#his heart was in the right place but they weren't

[somnoir]

Gotham's newest Crime Lord - part 4

Part 3 | Masterpost

Danny wasn't expecting for Red Hood to corner him. He would be lying when he says he wasn't panicking. First of all, they had quite literally strung up the bodies of prominent figures of the court of owls in very public places, then proceeded to order Technus to spread information about the court and their wrong doings.

The next step of the plan had been to publish a list of names—members of the court. Rich fruitloops that they were going to rely on the public to destroy. If the public and the GCPD couldn't do it, Danny had his ways to do so. Hauntings usually drove people mad if done a certain way.

But nevermind that!

His heart was practically trying to escape his chest—not that it was beating but it was there, in spirit (ha). He just wanted to see if little Emily and her sister were being fed by their mom and check if he needed to whisk the kids away and have them reside in one of their headquarters. Dan was more than willing to convert one of their facilities into a safehouse for children. Jeremy and some others were the ones who usually dealt with the house—others being parents are older siblings who got into crime for their family's.

"Phantom."

"Hood."

AAAAHH! The hot revenant really was looking for me! Thankfully, none of his siblings were there to witness how Danny was silently punching the air in absolute joy. Fuck yeah! Hot Crime Lord!

"Lemme guess... The big bad bat ain't too happy about the trouble we caused?" Danny chuckled, tilting his head as he narrowed his eyes. Organized crime was much better than his kingly duties, especially when it wasn't him playing the leader. Dan was doing pretty good as a boss, though Danny was reluctant to admit that in honor of his role as a younger brother.

"Sure as hell." Red Hood snorted, "But that ain't why I'm here, ghosty."

Danny rolled his eyes, gesturing for the other man to keep talking.

"You dealt with the court. Wraith led the mission... Personally. Not you. Not anyone else. It was Wraith, right?" Red Hood hummed, his helmet and modulator hiding everything. It frustrated Danny.

The mission was indeed led by Dante himself. But the operation had been split into three. Dan's team (Skulker, Amorpho) taking on the leaders of the court and disposing of them immed. While Danny's team (Wulf and Ember) were tasked to deal with the talons. Meanwhile, Elle's team (Johnny, Kitty, and Shadow) were tasked with saving the kids that weren't turned into Talons. But even then, Dan took full command of the situation.

It had been Dan who personally hung the Judge of the Clocktower and smeared his blood with some rhyme. It had been Dan who took charge of the remaining Talons once their leaders were dead and hung.

But it has been Danny who took the main Talon, dragged their body to Arkham, and painted a message in glowing, neon green paint. Maybe mixed with a bit of Ecto for better effects.

At the moment, all of the living Talons were in another one of their facilities—one outside of Gotham. Dan was a paranoid bastard, rightfully so, and had ordered the rehabilitation of these mindless soldiers outside of the Bats' territory. They didn't need anyone meddling with this. Not when it was Dan's first time choosing rehabilitation over elimination. In truth, these Talons were just innocent kids turned into weapons by the real monsters.

"Yeah, Wraith personally led this one." Danny pressed a hand against his hip, defiantly looking at the brick house that was the Red Hood. God, he almost didn't want a growths spurt if this was their height different. "Heard you've been snoopin' around, Red. What? Didya miss me?" It was teasing, a joke. He didn't expect much from it. He leaned in, grinning even when his mouth couldn't be seen, before pulling back as fast as he could.

But Hood sighed, letting out the hottest quiet laugh he could ever muster and tilted his head. "Yeah... Kinda missed you, ghosty. The kids were lookin' for yah. Emily was screamin' for yah on the roof two days ago."

Danny blinked.

Oh....

OH!

"Sure, sure." He immediately dismissed it, trying his best to make sure that his fast didn't go all purple, because apparently, that's the ghost version of blushing. Shit. "But the big bad Bat ain't too happy with us, yeah? I mean. Stringin' up the Judge and Talon gets you on his naughty list."

"Can't say he's pleased about it."

"Yeah, well, we ain't apologizing for that shit. The court wasn't on our radar before but they took one of our kids. Wraith is known for being one hell of a monster when it comes to kids." Danny scoffed, "They were turning them into weapons, Hood. I'd be okay if you want to throw them into Arkham, but the Judge and Talon? Somethings are more important than morals."

And Danny fucking knows that. He knows that some things should be out above morals, that they should be more important. His parents had failed to do that, failed to put their family above their morals and beliefs. The reveal was never going to be good. Not when Maddie Fenton fell to her knees, unable to accept that her baby died and demanded for him to give her back her son. It had hurt when she couldn't accept that Danny was Phantom and Phantom was Danny.

It got worse when they found out about Dan and Elle. They were hysterical. They stopped eventually. No more hunting, no more trying to protray ghosts as evil. They stopped helping the GIW. But they still couldn't accept it. They just vanished after that, leaving Danny and Jazz with Vlad, who had thankfully redeemed himself.

Danny knows what it meant to put something above your morals. Knows how valuable that is.

He shook his head, once again getting his head out of his heart and turning back to Red Hood. "Get to the point, Hood. You weren't looking for me for no reason."

"Well I've got someone who wants to meet the Wraith. The Court... They were almost involved in the court and was targeted." Red Hood tried to explain, making sure to sound as vague as possible. Danny could—kinda—understand why he was. Keeping someone anonymous until they couldn't. "Was wonderin' if you could set up a meeting. I don't think there's anywhere in Gotham that's basically neutral ground at this point but I'm willin' to bet on an area that you guys won't start a fight."

Danny paused, trying to simplify that damn request in his head. Hood wanted a meeting with Wraith, to introduce someone. And about the location? He was right. The entirety of Gotham was someone's haunt, every part of it was claimed. Even when the people were living, some were so damn liminal that certain areas were basically haunts now. Crime Alley being one of the biggest areas to end up becoming a haunt.

He could only think of three places that could somehow be considered their haunt: The Hill, where their main base was, the Narrows where Dan was trying to take over Arkham to make the security better, and possibly the Docks and Harbor. But there wasn't a solid claim on any of them, except for the Hill. It was one of the poorest and most crime-ridden areas of Gotham. The locals were hostile as hell when they first arrived, but after the Ghosts started cleanin' up the streets, helping people by offering a steady income, and keeping the kids safe, they eventually welcomed the Ghosts with open arms. It helped when Dan started weeding out people that were extorting the area.

That area was a no-go, obviously. Not their base.

"Gimme a second. Gotta ask about this before discussing a location." He whipped out his phone, modified perfectly by their resident technopath, Tucker-fucking-Foley.

D1: Got Hood here.

D2: Ew

D2: I don't wanna hear you moon about your revenant

D1: you're a bitch

D1: fuck you

D1: 🖕🖕🖕

D1: but that's not it

D1: he wants to set up a meeting. Said he'll introduce someone that Court tried recruiting

D2: Bet Vlad's castle that it's Nightwing

D2: he fits the Court's recruits

D1: what??

D1: all of the bats fit the MO

D2: yeah but Nightwing's the most flexible one. Idk

D2: Gut feeling

D2: Tell em I'm willing

D2: only on Sunday tho.

D1: K

"Good news! He's willing to show his ugly mug."

Red Hood snorted.

"Bad news—" and now he stiffened, "Wraith's only available on Sunday. Busy sched, see."

"Alright," Hood sighed, "Where are you guys willing to meet?"

Again, that was a problem. Danny might suggest the Bowery but that was too close to Hood's haunt. It wasn't until he felt the tug in his shadow that he goes stiff, blinking before he saw Hood's shadow move behind him. Instead of a hulking man, it was transforming into a classy looking woman—it reminds him of that lady from Resident Evil. The shadow moved, holding up what seemed to be a cigarette. The blankness of darkness morphed and now there was a white grin spread across her face.

Lady Gotham adored her knights but he was sure Red Hood was her favorite. Danny suspected that the city spirit had a hand in his resurrection—to which he was sure that had paperwork he'd need to process soon. But the city spirit was accommodating and welcomed them into her territory, with the promise that their intentions wouldn't turn malicious and destroy the city.

Danny couldn't help but laugh, eyes glowing green and Hood took a instinctive step back. "Heard you bats and birds got yourselves a cave." He tilted his head. "Gotham Cemetery. It's where you'll find ghosts."

The cemetery. The one area that was a haunt to all the dead and never the living.

Before Red Hood could even say another word, Danny floated of the ground, mockingly saluted the revenant, and phased through the wall.

NAILED IT!

"Lil' wing, I'm not sure about this. Doesn't it sound creepy that they want to meet in the cemetery?"

"I have a theory. I am 90% sure that the Ghosts of Gotham are actual ghosts."

"Why's you say that?"

"I had Tim and Babs help me investigate the other known members. All of them can't be detected by cameras cause the footage gets all fucked up. So we had to resort to teaditional means. Seriously, the demon brat and I had to follow that Johnny and Kitty duo around Gotham just so he could draw them properly! I kid you not, I saw those two phase through other vehicles when they were zoomin' around the streets."

"And?"

"There's a possibility that those two are from Gotham. But get this... All the matches are people who were confirmed to have died decades ago. Like... When B was a teenager."

Dick flinched. Okay. The new rogue organization might actually be made up of legitimate dead people.

"Shit."

"Right back at you."

The cemetery was already in their line of vision. Even if Dick Grayson was the target of the Court, Nightwing came with the package. Meeting Wraith as Nightwing was pretty reasonable if you had to ask him. And Jason had done his best to hunt down Phantom after Bruce forbade them from interacting with any of the ghosts unless they were starting trouble first.

Hopefully, this meeting would go well...

The cemetery is quiet once they start walking. The shadows seemed to be more lively, moving and rising like curious children wanting to catch a glimpse.

"BOO!"

His escrima sticks were already in his hands and Jason was already cocking his gun.

Phantom was floating there, upside down as Lazarus green eyes stared back at them. The obvious echo of laughter making the graveyard more eerie.

"Quit that!" Jason snapped, glowering at Phantom but slowly lowered his guns.

"Awww! C'mon now, Hood. You’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost—but a really good-looking one!" Phantom promptly runs his fingers through his hair, winking at Jason before laughing it off like it was nothing.

"You're horrendous."

"Hey, hey, hey! I'm supernatural and beyond this world!" Phantom proudly declared, clearly on the roll. But Lazarus green eyes fell to Nightwing. The reaction reminded Dick of a curious cat.

"Shit, it really was Nightwing you were talking about. I owe Wraith a hundred bucks now, birdie." Even though his mouth couldn't be seen, Dick was pretty sure that Phantom was pouting. "C'mon, birds. The boss is talking to some ghosts over there."

"So... You're really ghosts?" Jason asks, walking beside the floating ghost while Dick trailed back a couple of steps.

"Kinda? There are different kinds of ghosts, really." Phantom shrugged, going silent again. "We usually help out the other ghosts that can't meddle with the living realm. Lotta ghosts in Gotham with unfinished business."

"What kind of business?" Dick frowned.

Phantom turned to him, mischief in his eyes as he pressed a finger against the place where his lips should be. "Now, now. I ain't tellin' you, birdie. Client confidentiality and all that."

Jason grumbled something unintelligible.

"Now that ain't nice, Hood."

And then Jason grunts in response.

"C'mon, Hood!" The way Phantom whined, Dick was very sure he was pouting. "Tsk, tsk. Stop ghostin' me, wouldya?"

Dick held back a snort. While Jason's glare could be felt through his mask.

"What? That wasn't so bad! Wow... This crowd is dead."

Jason groans and Dick didn't even hide his laugh. Okay, maybe Phantom was pretty okay if you could ignore the fact that his group was pretty homicidal if needed.

"And there he is!" Phantom sounded almost mocking, the tone so strangely familiar to Dick. (Twas the sound of a younger sibling rolling their eyes). "Wraith! Brought the birdies!"

"Seriously?" Jason groaned again but stopped. Dick didn't think he was being unreasonable because holy shit!

Wraith had the same white hair as Phantom with skin paler than the damn moon. But unlike Phantom, the ends of his hair looked like fire. Red eyes instead of green... And built like a brick house, because what the fuck was that?! He was taller than Jason and Bruce! Maybe even standing taller than Superman if he stood a little straighter.

He wore the same monochrome outfit that Phantom wore and a mask that covered his mouth. With round, red tinted glasses over his eyes. Wraith was talking to the air, well, the dead. Dick could see the faint outline of a young woman.

The fucking fridge, Wraith, turned towards them once Phantom called for him.

"You fuckin' twerp, can't you see I'm still talkin'? Rude little shit."

And Dick may have realized something else. Oh. OH! That's why it was so familiar, that behaviour and mocking tone! Fucking shit, were Wraith and Phantom brothers?

Red eyes were soon trained on him. Wraith looked him over once, before humming with a smirk.

"So I was right... Nice to meet you, birdie."

Masterpost

[bunny-jpeg]

sundays off

toto wolff

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), power dynamic, poorly translated german, lap sex/cowgirl position, oral sex (toto receives), couch sex, unprotected sex

a/n: *makes vague gestures* i wrote this in a back corner of a train heading to see my beloved <3

nothing felt better than a sunday night with no racing. at least that was what you told yourself. the season seemed to stretch on and ended in heartbreak as this was the final races with lewis. while the wound of departure still stung. you were happy for toto to be home.

the place you shared in monaco with your beloved partner. he wasn't your husband yet, and he was far too old to be your boyfriend. so, you were partners. it made you seem like you were crime fighters. but you were certain most crime fighting duos weren't doing this on a sunday night.

"that's it, geliebten. take me as good as you do." his voice tinged with a certain want that made you toes curl as your nose dug into his pelvic area in an attempt to deep-throat him.

you were toto's beloved, underneath all the pet names and heavy touches, you were the center of toto's universe. it was to such a degree that he couldn't have you on the track too often. it was fine at monaco or austria. that made sense, but if you lingered on the track for too long toto couldn't focus. but that meant the was pent up by the end of the season.

and when toto came home, he wanted to make up for lost time. and that usually started with re-training your throat. between his legs, your mouth around his cock as you pleasured him. eyes fluttered shut as you took him as deep as you could. you could feel the pleasure thump in the back of your head as your spit clung to your chin.

toto held your hair in his hand and his other hand on his thigh as he leaned back into the couch. he admired how you look as the pleasure coursed through his body. the feeling was something else, he could feel the thump of his heart in his ears as your nose rubbed up against his trimmed pubic hair. he was impressed with himself after all the time he could still keep up with a young thing like you. he said in that low voice of his, his accent heavier with lust, "was für eine wunderschöne prinzessin." the words burned in your brain and soaked your core as you continued to orally pleasure him.

you'd get yours soon enough, toto wasn't the type of man was satisfied with one round. a man like him only reached the heights he did because of an insatiable greed.

you continued to orally pleasure him and the pleasure grew with a fire in his gut. he shifted a little on the couch and held onto your head a little tighter. his grip could be so hard it could bruise, but he'd never hurt you like that (unless you begged very nicely).

"a beauty." he said lowly, "i missed you every weekend. the photos and videos don't do your beauty justice, prinzessin. i did like the one with you on our bed, you in my shirts and trying so hard to get yourself off... but it's impossible without me, right?" he heard you moan in response at his question.

he guided your head a little faster and he could feel you choke a little bit at the feeling of his cock intruding further down your throat and it made something race through him. double header after triple header, race after race, he yearned for the softness of his lover. he wished you didn't blind his focus so much or else you'd be in his lap during the race. but it would be hard to direct the likes of russell or lewis with a hard-on.

your throat tightened around his cock as he gave the back of your throat a few more thrusts before he came inside of your mouth. he groaned under his breath was he let go of your head and relaxed against the couch. the white leather was a place of such debauchery when the older man got his hands on you.

you swallowed dutifully and took your mouth off of his still hard cock. you looked up at him with a needy look in your eyes. you needed your pleasure met too. it was hard to give head and not get so sexually wound up. and toto was more than happy to give his princess everything she so desired.

he stroked his hard cock lazily, it slick with your spit. heat in his cheeks and his dark eyes took in the sight of you before he said, "if you want it, geliebten. you're going to have to work for it. i work hard to give you everything you want, but this, you're going to have to actually work for." then smiled like a mad-man when you scrambled up on shaky legs and got into his lap. your wet cunt took him beautifully.

he tensed up for a moment and swallowed from the feeling on his already overstimulated cock. he placed both of his large hands on your hips and guided your down. his cock nudged against what felt like your womb and toto loved the feeling. your warm walls made him feel the sharp feeling of pleasure in his body. and then when you started to move up and down his cock.

"oh, geliebten." he purred, "i see you haven't forgotten the lessons i've taught you. how to please a man." you barley had given a blow-job by the time you met. toto spent a summer break making sure you understood how to drive a man wild.

"how could i forget, toto." your hands were across his clothed chest. he was still mostly clothed while you were naked. save for the anklet on your left leg with toto's name on it. you giggled, heat risen in your cheeks, "i think you fucked all my university knowledge to make room for what you taught me."

he chuckled lowly as his hands roamed your hips and a little more north, his eyes trained on the jiggle of your breasts, "well, a lover can be a good teacher. especially when the student is so eager to please." his voice was like honey in your brain and it made you only more needy for him. he kissed at your breasts and held the fat flesh in his hands and dragged his teeth and tongue across it.

you continued to move against him. you felt the excitement run through you. his sole attention on you made your body heated. there was a fire in your core that yearned for him. you wanted him, you needed him. you were his world and he expected nothing but loyalty.

"please, toto. fuck, it feels good. it left impossible to cum when i was home alone. nothing beats you." and then yelped when toto slapped you on the ass which only made you tighten around him.

"i know, prinzessin. i think i may have broken your brain with sex... my apologies. but, don't worry, i won't even make you go without." he chuckled lowly as he continued to meet your pace. he watched your body move with each heavy thrust and he felt the excitement in his bones. weeks apart, the rush of the race. despite it all, toto thought of you. he loved you. he adored you in ways that he could never put into proper words. how could he? if one met an angel, they couldn't simply put the experience into words. it was the same with you.

his voice was heavy as the words tumbled out, there was a slight ache in his hip from your movements and the position. but that could be dealt with after, you cunt was soaked for him. he even slipped out a few times, but with a little help you managed to sink yourself back down onto him. he let out a groan and you arched your back a little.

"you feel so good, geliebten." he said with a heated lust in his tone as he gripped onto you a little tighter. you felt good, your cunt was perfect around him. the fire only grew in his core as you continued to fuck him feverishly.

there was a pain in your hips as you rode him, but it was overwhelmed by the feeling of pleasure in your body which kept you moving against him. the thump of your heart could be felt in the back of your mind with a heat in your cheeks. you loved him, you loved him so deeply. you missed him, the weeks apart made it hard for you to deny yourself him. to let yourself fuck him with wild abandon. it was hot. you knew you wouldn't last much longer, not while you were riding him so well that it short circuited your brain.

your pants were heavy, your tone low as you said to him, "toto, please, honey. i'm close." the thump in your soul was a raging fire as you continued to move your hips against him. you felt the fire through your blood as you kept your pace. you fucked him through your climax, you tensed around him which only made him more turned on.

"cum for me, angel." he said lowly, "cum like you've been meaning to." then kissed at your jaw as you gave it a few more heavy thrusts before he finished inside of you. he tensed up as he held you close and let you work his body through his climax.

eventually you slowed to a stop and you slumped against him. you wrapped your arms and held onto the soft material of his t-shirt. you knew he could keep going, but you were spent. surprising that even at his age he could happily keep going like a real stallion. you held onto him and kissed him until your lips were raw. it felt amazing, good in a way that made you excited all over. it was heated, a sense of euphoria rushed through you.

"got your fill, geliebten?" he asked softly, "i see that you missed me."

"i always miss you, honey." you exhaled deeply, "missing you is like missing a part of my soul. i always need it."

he kissed the side of your head as he held you. maybe next season you could visit a little more. it would be good for the team, bring up the morale. toto just had to think of a way to keep himself from getting distracted, but he had an entire off season to come up with a plan <3

[jayhyunglover]

Send my love to your next lover

Zayne x non mc! Reader (reader is Zayne's wife )

Synopsis: you've been married to Zayne since 2 years now but you knew you weren't the one he longed for . You weren't her and you will never be.

Zayne's hand tapped restlessly against the steering wheel , eyes flickering from time to time to the bouquet of spider lilies on his passenger seat . They were your favorite when he asked why you said it was because they symbolized Goodbye and that you always end up saying Goodbye to the things you loved the most.

He really hoped this would pull out a smile from you at least . You've been distant those days , argument after arguments piled up combined with his busy schedule who didn't make things easier but he promised himself he'd make it up to you. Tonight at last.

When he finally pulled in your shared house hallway he hastily got out the car , grabbing the bouquet of flowers to make his way inside but strangely every lights were off.

Haven't you came back from work already? His eyebrows furrowed in confusion

Opening the front door he called out for your ne but no response came. He was starting to get worried, searching frantically through the house but there were no trace of you anywhere.

No this couldn't be . You couldn't have left him. You would never right?

But as he stood in the painfully empty house even him was starting to doubt his own words.

Losing hope he plopped himself down on the couch, running a nervous hand through his hair when the corner of his caught a faint glow

Your wedding ring.

Zayne abruptly picked it up on the coffee table . It was resting against a pile of papers.

What the hell are those ? He fiddled with the papers. Eyes scanning over them

No no no this couldn't be.

Opening the letter his eyes bulged out of his sockets ,heart dropping in his stomach.

"I am giving you up."

No hubby , no my lil snowman no nothing straight to the point

"You weren't mine in the first place, even if I was the one you wake up with every morning,  your heart belongs to her . Even if I was the one you spent time with , your heart longed for her.

I am not sad , do not worry . I knew what I signed up for .

Be happy Dr Zayne with your Jasmine,  your love and I'll be happy with my freedom. Even if my heart will always belong to you at least now I won't have to look at you and wish I was someone else.

I am giving you up and forgive it all. So please set me free.

Goodbye Dr Zayne, be happy and send my love to your next lover ."

                      Your dear (ex) wife.

Zayne felt the bile rising up his throat.

This has to be a joke , some prank. You'd never leave like that , not after all this time. You made vows , he vowed to keep you safe , protect you , love you. He couldn't send your love to his next lover because there wouldn't be any.

You were always the one , even when he makes you feel like you weren't. He always knew deep down.

He didn't even realize at first he was crying just small droplets falling on the paper blurring his vision.

True you will never be his Jasmine because you were so much more, his wife , his love. Sure you weren't his first but you will always be his last , there won't be any next lover to send your love to.

Tag list: @mangooes @jinwoosbabyboo

------------------------------------

A/N: I am procrastinating so much on his Snow White fic that I had to post something to make up for it.

Also I couldn't stop listening to Send my love by Adele and Zayne angst is my favorite snack soooooo. (Eat up y'all)

[aayakashii]

Haru doesn't think you two are dating after you two kiss.

Actually, he doesn't think you two are dating after you two kiss for the hundredth time. You've slept in his bed almost every day ever since your first date, and when you didn't, it was because he was sleeping at yours.

But he still doesn't think you two are dating.

You've sent him plenty of cheesy texts with a staggering amount of kaomojis (a habit you’ve picked up from him). Neither of you have ever missed a good morning text, nor a good night text, not even a "just checking in" text. You put a few hearts right beside his name when you added his contact info.

And he still doesn't think you two are dating.

You keep a list of the things he loves in your notes app, and he does the same with your tastes. All to give each other little gifts and plan cute dates (even if Haru needs a little convincing when it comes to doing things that aren't strictly Jabberwock-related). Ren thinks you two are disgusting for being so stupidly whipped.

AND STILL—

In fact, Haru has the gall to suffer. To mull over in his head whether or not he'd be overstepping if he asked you out, if he'd be ruining things with you once he outright said he's in love with you (as if you two haven't said it before time and time again).

Imagine his surprise, then, when you introduce him as your boyfriend when you two meet some new GA students.

Haru's head turns towards you in a comical fashion and he just stares at you, mouth agape, while you make small talk with the students. As soon as they leave and you finally look at him, however, he all but shrieks:

"I'm your boyfriend?!?!"

You place your hands on your hips and shake your head. Bless his heart. He's so cute but so slow sometimes. Bahnti definitely doesn't work on his neurons.

"Yes? We have been dating for the past months?" You raise an eyebrow at him, a smile almost breaking your deadpan façade.

"Wha- but- we- whe- wha- I- wh- uh-" he stutters, hand clutching his chest as his face, neck and ears burn with a pink shade.

"Take your time." You finally break and end up laughing. Haru takes a deep breath and swallows thickly.

"So- so... I'm your boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"For a few months now?"

"Yes."

Haru stands still for a second, and you can almost watch the gears turning inside his mind, before breathing out a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness, I was so worried about how I should ask you out!" He lets out a laugh, leaning backwards with his hands on his hips.

You slap your forehead and sigh.

"You really thought we weren't dating?"

Haru pouts and looks to the side, scratching his cheek. He keeps on rocking from side to side, shifting his weight on his feet, just like he always did when he got embarrassed.

"We-well... we never asked each other officially, I guess..."

You roll your eyes, smiling, and grab his hands with yours.

"Okay then. Here it goes. Haru, will you officially be my boyfriend?"

Haru's face lights up and he beams with the biggest smile you have ever seen on his face. And that's a feat you never thought would be possible.

"Hell yeah! I'm your boyfriend!"

[sosa2imagines]

My queen!

Warnings- Fluff. Disclaimer- Here's the winner of my birthday treat poll.

The grand mahogany doors of Bucky’s office were closed, muffling the faint voices of his ongoing meeting. You leaned back in his chair, running your fingers over the polished wood of his desk.

Bucky's empire was always bustling with activity and the grand office was the heart of it all, a place that exuded power but was comforting at the same time. It had become your favourite spot in his empire, a place where you had found solace amongst the chaos.

You had come a long way since the day Bucky slipped a ring onto your finger. The man who could command armies and strike fear into the hearts of his enemies, made you feel like a queen. You had witnessed the world tremble at his feet, but when he looked at you, it was as if nothing else mattered.

Your confidence had grown in leaps and bounds since you had become his wife. You were no longer just Bucky's wife, you were the queen of his empire, standing by his side amidst the chaos.

The first time you bumped into him on the streets. It was as if fate had brought you two together, even though you had no idea who he truly was. You weren't even fazed by the imposing presence of his bodyguards, which was unusual. The second time you had come into contact with him was in a club, where you had boldly strolled into the middle of the meeting, not knowing that you had just interrupted something incredibly important.

Back then, something about you caught Bucky’s attention.

Despite discovering who Bucky truly was, you didn't show any signs of fear. In fact, you had even complimented his precious gun, demonstrating not only a lack of terror but also an air of confidence that was uncommon for women in his world.

From there, an unlikely friendship blossomed, eventually leading to a romantic relationship, and finally, to marriage. It wasn't an easy journey. Along the way, life had thrown countless challenges at you both. People assumed you were only with Bucky for his money and power, but in reality, you had no interest in any of it.

You were quietly flipping through a book on Bucky's desk when the office door suddenly swung open, breaking the peaceful silence. A man in a sharp suit, his face portraying a mix of arrogance and impatience, strode in without even bothering to knock.

His eyes landed on you, sitting in Bucky's chair, and his brows furrowed with disapproval. Without hesitation, he addressed you in a sharp tone, clearly annoyed. “What the hell are you doing here?” he barked, his voice laced with authority. ��Get out of the boss's chair! Don't you know who I am?”

You looked up, meeting his gaze with a calm expression. Even if you didn't know who he was, his demeanour was clear enough. He was either a significant figure within Bucky's organization, or possibly a right-hand man or a high-ranking member. But one thing is for sure, he was clearly angry at you being in Bucky's chair, something he probably perceived as a mark of disrespect.

You spoke with a steady voice, holding your ground. “I don't know who you are,” you replied, “but talk nicely.”

Your calm demeanour contrasted with his impatience, and it was clear you wouldn't let him be disrespectful to you.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “A bold mouth for someone who’s clearly just here to warm his bed. Do you even understand what kind of business this is?” His words were dripping with disdain, and the condescending smirk on his face made your blood boil. Before you could respond, his tone turned vulgar. “Women like you should learn their place. What did he pay for you to…”

The atmosphere in the room grew ten times heavier when the office doors swung open once again. The man's words faded into silence, as Bucky stood there, his face a mask of cold fury. “Finish that sentence!” His voice, a low growl, sent shivers down your spine, though not out of fear.

His icy blue eyes locked onto the man, who now appeared as if he wanted to vanish into the floor, completely intimidated by Bucky's presence.

“Mr. Barnes…I” the man stammered, stepping back, his confidence completely shattered.

Bucky's voice dripped with a venomous tone. “She's my wife!” Bucky said, his words holding a deadly edge. “The queen of this empire. And you dare to insult her in my kingdom?”

The man's face turned pale, fear evident in his eyes. But Bucky didn't give him time to respond or apologize. In a split second, he crossed the room, slamming the man against the wall with such force that the paintings on the wall shook.

“Nobody,” Bucky hissed, his tone dangerously low, his voice dripping with anger. “Disrespects my wife and walks away unscathed.”

You leaned back in the chair, watching the scene unfold, a mix of satisfaction and concern welling up inside you. However, beneath it all, you still felt a sense of pride and admiration for Bucky.

In that moment, you saw a side of him that you both loved and respected, his fierce protectiveness over you.

The man fumbled over his words, trying to apologize, but it was far too late. Bucky's wrath was as swift as it was brutal. He delivered punch after punch until he had finally had enough. Turning to you, his expression softened immediately.

“Are you okay, doll?” he asked, his voice a complete contrast to the icy fury you'd heard moments before.

You smiled, standing up and walking over to him. “I was…” you replied. “But it's nice knowing I have my own personal avenger.”

Bucky chuckled, pulling you close and embracing you. “Always, doll. No one messes with my queen.”

You kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “Remind me to sit in your chair more often.”

He gave you a wicked grin, replying, “Oh, you're not leaving it anytime soon. It suits you.”

Later that day, Bucky came home with a proud grin, surprising you by telling you that you were the new owner of a posh restaurant. You looked at him in confusion, unaware that there was a restaurant owned under your name. Bucky smiled, explaining that the man who had insulted you earlier owned that restaurant and now it belonged to you.

Before you could protest or ask questions, Bucky quickly kissed you, effectively silencing you. You knew better than to challenge him now, so instead you just relaxed into the kiss, enjoying the moment.

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss

[tomssexdoll]

Under the Mistletoe

PAIRINGS: Tom 2014 x Female reader

CONTENT: SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: It was you and Tom's 1st proper Christmas together, since he was away for the last 2 Christmases due to demands of tours and interviews and so on. He wanted this Christmas to be extra special for you, to show you how much he truly loved and appreciated you, little did he knew though, you were 2 steps ahead of him.

A/N: tysm for all the support this year, I love you all so much, it means so much to me that people take interest in my writing because I work really hard, merry christmas and happy holidays :)

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (doggy), eating out, LOTS of teasing

It was me and toms 1st proper Christmas together, I started dating the famous rockstar 3 months ago. He wanted to make this Christmas special though, to let me know how much he truly loved and appreciated me since he couldn't spend the last 2 with me due to the demand of him being on tour.

Our relationship was like something out of a movie, he was like my prince charming. He was kind, caring and protective. That morning he snuck downstairs into the kitchen at 6am, wanting to surprise me with a hearty breakfast.

He was up for hours, making sure everything was perfect for my special Christmas breakfast. He had cooked bacon, eggs, toast and even made some homemade pancakes with a side of strawberries and syrup. He prepared a cup of hot cocoa (or chocolate if you're aussie) with just the right amount of sugar and whipped cream. He stuck a candy cane inside the hot cocoa and placed everything on the coffee table.

It was on a beautiful, red and white swirled tray. The one that I had picked out for Christmas dinner, the one I was raving about for months. I yawned and woke up, I rubbed my eyes and noticed Tom wasn't in bed. I figured work had suddenly called him and sighed in disappointment, putting my fluffy slippers on and going downstairs.

As I walked into the kitchen my eyes widened, Tom turned around with a big smile on his face. "You weren't called in for work..?" I asked, confused. He looked so handsome in his apron, his muscles flexing as he held a small vase of roses. My favourite red roses.

"Of course not, I wanted to make this Christmas special my love.." he smiled, leaning in close and kissing me gently. I smiled brightly and grabbed the roses, my eyes rolling back as I smelled the sweet scent. He took the vase out of my hands and held my hand in his, "close your eyes baby, there's more.." he mumbled.

I closed my eyes and let him guide me. He came to a stop and came behind me, "open!" he said, as soon as I opened my eyes my heart fluttered, the beautiful tray with the amazing smelling food, the mug of hot cocoa resting beside it.

"Oh Tom.." I said, my voice shaky as I registered everything in front of me. I turned around and smashed my lips into his. "You're amazing.." I whispered against his lips. "Merry Christmas my love.." his eyes softened, his love for me evident in his gaze.

After a heated mini make out session he guided me to sit on the floor, feeding me bites of pancake and bacon. He fed me tenderly, he'd ocasionally steal a kiss between bites, his eyes bursting with affection.

"You're the best Christmas gift I could ever ask for.." he murmured softly, gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Would you believe I've been practising my serving skills..?" he smirked, making me giggle "definitely, you've improved so much from our last...date.." the last date was a disaster, he burnt the food and ruined my dress by accidently spilling wine on it, but I didn't care because at least I got to spend time with him.

He chuckled, his cheeks flushing at the memory, "yeah..well..let's just say I've learnt from my mistakes," he fed me another bite of pancake, his thumb gently wiping a bit of syrup from the corner of my mouth.

As I finished my delicious bite of the syrupy pancake, I reached behind me and smiled, giving him a small box. "Here, open it baby.." he smiled "you didn't have to get me anything..thanks baby.." when he opened it all there was, was a small silver key. He raised his eyebrow and looked up at me as I stood up, outstretching my hand, "come..follow me.."

His heart raced with excitement, he quickly took my hand and followed me. "You're spoiling me too much.." his curiosity piqued. "Where are we going baby?" he said, his mind was already racing with possibilities.

I lead him into the garage, I made him stand far back as I walked to the covered present. I carefully tore the cover off to reveal the 1970 Harley Davidson Shovelhead motorcycle he had wanted for so long, the one he had been dreaming of and that had been sold out everywhere at every pawn shop or second hand motorbike store.

His jaw dropped in shock and awe as he took in the sight of the beautiful vintage motorcycle. "Holy shit.." he walked closer, running his hand over the chrome and checking the license plate. "This is the exact one I've been searching for..how...how did you even find it?!" he said, his hands slightly shaking.

"Just from a friend," I smirked and winked. Without warning he spun me around and kissed me passionately, pressing my back against the motorcycle, "you're incredible.." he whispered against my lips and lifted me up, carrying me to the bedroom.

His strong arms cradled me close to his chest as he raced to get to the bedroom, as we got inside he practically threw me on the bed. I was wearing a robe so he couldn't see the surprise I had underneath. He started to unbutton his shirt, his mind racing with dirty thoughts but also wanting to show his gratitude.

"Wait.." I smirked, my hands going to the robe belt and gently untying it, letting the robe fall off me naturally. His eyes widened and his throat dried up as my sexy red lingerie was revealed, set to fit the theme of Christmas.

His eyes darkened with desire, "fuck.." he mumbled, quickly undoing his shirt buttons and throwing it off. "You're absolutely stunning.." his voice came out husky and low, completely overcome with desire. He slowly crawled onto the bed, his lips finding mine in a slow passionate kiss.

Slowly he gravitated his lips to my jawline, then my neck, "you're such a little shit..always one step ahead of me.." he chuckled, leaving small dark purple hickeys on my neck. "Mhmm..watch out.." I giggled and ran my hand through his hair.

His hands gently traced the curves of my body through the delicate fabric of my lingerie, appreciating me. "I'm gonna unwrap you like a present.." he whispered against my skin, his breath warm and gentle. Slowly he peeled off my lacy panties, dragging them down my legs and throwing them to the side.

He dipped his head in between my legs and gently kissed my inner thighs, inching his way to my aching core. "Santa tells me..you've been a good girl..should I reward you?" he smirked, looking up at me. I nodded, gently biting my lip, trying to not show him how crazy he was driving me, knowing he'd use that to tease the shit out of me.

He kissed and nuzzled my inner thighs, inhaling my sweet scent before finally reaching my dripping pussy. He looked up at me again, his eyes locked with mine, before pressing his mouth against my pussy and sucking gently on my clit. "Merry Christmas to me.." he mumbled against my core.

"Oh fuck.." I moaned softly, my mouth slightly agape as his tongue circled my clit, applying the perfect pressure as his hands gripped my thighs firmly. "You taste better than any sweet this season.." he chuckled softly, his breath hot and tantalizing.

His fingers joined in, slowly sliding in and out as his tongue worked my clit, "you like that baby..?" he whispered between licks, maintaining his strong eye contact. "Mmmh.." I moaned in response, my eyes rolling back as his fingers prodded at my g spot.

He smiled wickedly at my reaction, knowing exactly what spots to hit. "That's it.." he kept his rhythm steady, his tongue and fingers working in perfect coordination to drive me closer to the edge. His free hand moved up my body, gently teasing my breasts through the lingerie.

I was so turned on at this point, my vision going slightly blurry as the pleasure reached an ultimate high. "Faster.." I whimpered, my hips bucking for more. Obligingly, he picked up the pace, his fingers pistoning in and out of me at a faster rate while his tongue flicked back and forth over my clit wildly.

"Fuckkk!" I whined loudly, gripping the sheets beside me, he growled against my pussy, "like this, baby?" the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through me. "Fuck yes! Keep going, so close!" I rolled my eyes back, throwing my head against the pillows.

He smirked, feeling my muscles tensing, my climax building and it only spurred him on. "Come for me, beautiful..come all over my fingers.." he a doubled his efforts, curling upwards to hit that sweet spot in me perfectly. His mouth suctioned onto my clit, sucking harder as his tongue flicked repeatedly.

I yelped out in pleasure, "oh fuck! Cumming!" my body shook as my orgasm crashed down, my release spilling onto his fingers. He gently brought me down from my high, kissing my inner thighs again while slowly removing his fingers. He licked all the slick off, feeling my legs trembling from the intensity of my orgasm. "Fuck, you're gorgeous when you cum.." he mumbled, leaning down and kissing me roughly.

He chuckled lowly, his sweat glistened muscles flexing. He crawled up my body, his muscular chest pressing against my heaving breasts. "Turn over.." he grumbled, grabbing my waist and flipping me over, making me go on all fours.

From behind, he ran his hands along my curvaceous ass, squeezing playfully before trailing his hands on my hips. "Mmmh.." he whispered, his breath hot against my ear as he positioned himself at my entrance, "you're still so wet from cumming.." he smirked

"Put it in.." I whined, "I can't wait any longer", my patience was cracking and he loved it, loving how eager I was. "Such an impatient girl.." he whispered before pushing his hard cock against my wet entrance. He ran the tip up and down my slit, coating himself in my arousal.

I whined loudly, sick of him teasing me, "Tom! Just put it in!" at my desperate plea, he finally gave in. He gripped my hips tightly and thrusted forward, burying himself deep inside my tight pussy with a loud groan. He started moving, setting a fast, hard pace as he pounded into me from behind.

"Fuck!" I moaned loudly, desperately gripping onto the sheets. He slapped one hand firmly on my ass cheek while the other gripped my hip tighter, "take it baby.." he mumbled, his hips slapping against my ass with each thrust, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room along with our moans.

"Scream my name..." he growled, when I didn't comply straight away he smacked my ass again, harder this time, making me yelp in pain. "T-tom!" I whined, my legs trembling under his touch. Hearing me scream only spurred him on. He bent over my back, wrapping an arm around my waist and using the leverage to thrust even deeper, his other hand snaked up to wrap around my throat possessively, "louder! Let me hear you!" he screamed, he was turning my brain into mush, I could barely think.

"TOM!" I yelled to the best of my abilities, the word kind of slurred. In the heat of the moment he wrapped his hand tighter around my throat and lifted me up to be against his chest, fucking me mercilessly and kissing my neck hungrily, leaving marks wherever he'd go.

One hand firmly gripped my breast, pinching and teasing the nipple while he continued to hold me against his chest. "Look down at how fucking sexy we look together.." he forced my head down, making me look at his cock slamming in and out of me, my tight pussy barely able to handle all of it.

His pace was relentless, driving us both closer to the edge with each perfect thrust, my moans only got louder as he slid his hand down my body and reached my clit, rubbing furious circles to bring me closer to my climax, wanting it to be intense.

"Mmmh! Close!" I mumbled, my legs now trembling more than before, his support the only thing that was keeping me from falling. His free hand reached up to grab my face, turning it to the side as he looked in my desperate eyes. "Eyes on me, baby..." his voice was low, commanding. He picked up the speed, slamming into me with brutal force, never letting go of my face as his dark eyes looked into mine.

I felt a knot scrunch up in my stomach, signalling my orgasm. He used his hand to rub my clit again, feeling my body tense up. "Come on baby!" he yelled, "cum for me, cum for me!" he repeated, his orgasm also very near.

I practically screamed as my orgasm washed over me, my walls tightening around his cock and triggering his own orgasm. He roared, his hips jerking as he flooded my pussy with his cum. He held me against him, his arms wrapped tightly around me as he rode out his climax.

"Fuck...so perfect.." he groaned, finally collapsing backwards, pulling me down with him onto his chest as he caught his breath. Our chests both heaved in unison, looking into each others love filled eyes. "That was amazing.." I gasped.

He chuckled, "what a way to start Christmas.." he panted, gently running his fingers through my damp hair. After we both calmed down he spoke up again, "how about we have a shower, get changed and open our presents, hm? Maybe start on Christmas lunch for the family?" I nodded and smiled, "sounds perfect.."

tags: @ballhair @bills-wife-1 @bkaulitzlover

tags: @ella1289 @billsdolliest @tomscumdoll

tags: @tomsfuckdoll @tomkslut @miyukafujii

tags: @itsangelll

[leftoverghosts]

the weight of it all

divorcelawyer!patrick zweig x divorcelawyer!wife!user

or, patrick teases you with a paperweight. nsfw teasing under the cut.

PLAY MY XMAS GAME AND REQUEST A BOT/BLURB HERE!

"I can’t believe you thought that was okay—what the hell were you thinking?" Patrick snarled.

Your heart raced as Patrick pressed against you, his rage palpable, as he stood between your spread thighs. You'd been arguing in circles, when he'd hoisted you onto the desk unceremoniously. "I was trying to do what's best for our client," you shot back, meeting his furious gaze. "Art deserves a fair settlement."

"Fair?" Patrick scoffed, his hot breath on your face. "You call handing over half his assets to that gold-digging bitch fair?" He slammed his fist on the desk, rattling the glass paperweight behind you. You glared at him, not appreciating how he referred to Tashi.

“Fuck you. Taking on this case was a conflict interest anyway.” You stood your ground, staring down your husband as if he were the most foolish man on Earth. The Donaldson's divorce was in danger of causing your own, and you had spent countless hours trying to untangle their messy assets.

Between this case and all the others, you and Patrick barely had time for anything other than work - let alone to release any of the pent up aggression building inside both of you due to lack of intimacy. You weren't nice when you were horny, and neither was he. "If you'd just listen to reason, you God damn moron-"

With a snarl, Patrick grabbed the heavy crystal paperweight and shoved it roughly between your legs. You gasped as the cold glass pressed against your most sensitive area through your panties. He moved it in slow, deliberate circles, glaring at you with a mix of anger and dark lust.

"Is this what you want?" he hissed. "You uptight cunt. You need to loosen up. You’re driving me crazy."

A moan escaped your lips as the smooth paperweight rubbed against your clit through the thin fabric. You were appalled at his crude actions but your body betrayed you, automatically grinding against the hard glass.

Patrick watched your face with grim satisfaction as he continued to torment you with the makeshift toy under your skirt. "Not so high and mighty now, are you?" he taunted. “Who’s a moron, baby?”

You hated how your body responded to Patrick's aggressive touch, but you couldn't deny the electric sparks of pleasure racing through you. The glass was unyielding against your sensitive flesh, stroking you in just the right way.

"Stop..." you whimpered, but your hips bucked traitorously against the object. Your panties were drenched, desire coiling hot and tight in your core.

Patrick leaned in close, lips brushing your ear as he spoke in a dark, honeyed voice. "You need this. Need to be put in your place." He increased the pressure and speed of the paperweight, the glass growing slick with your arousal.

A cry tore from your throat as the blunt tip found your aching entrance through the soaked fabric. Patrick nudged it rhythmically against your opening, teasing penetration. You clutched his shoulders, head thrown back, panting as he worked you into a frenzy.

"Beg me for it," Patrick commanded gruffly. "Beg me to fuck your bratty little cunt." He licked and nipped at your neck, marking you as his.

"Please..." you whined desperately. This was so wrong, so unprofessional. But the taboo of it all only heightened your arousal. Your hips rocked shamelessly as Patrick worked the paperweight faster.

"Fuck, look at you," he sneered. "You love this, don't you? Such a dirty little slut behind that prissy act. It’s not even inside you."

His filthy words sent you over the edge. You came hard, shuddering and muffling a cry against his shoulder as your cunt clenched around nothing. Patrick held the paperweight firmly against you, drawing out your climax until you stopped mewling.

Panting, you sagged against the desk, thoroughly debased. He set the paperweight down with a clink and straightened his tie, a smug look on his face.

"Now then," he said coolly, as if nothing had happened. "Let's discuss the settlement terms again, shall we? And this time, I expect you to see things my way."

Cheeks burning with humiliation and fading pleasure, you had no choice but to meekly nod. Patrick had won this battle. And you hated how much you'd enjoyed it.

[killerpancakeburger]

BABY SAID—

Soap eating you out in a closet to relieve the tension of your workday.

Until your legs give out— no, scratch that, he can carry you.

Tags: smut, oral f!receiving, soap x reader, established relationship, 0.6k words.

Head tilting back against the wall, you suck in a gasp. Your gaze lands on the closet's ceiling and the cheap light bulb attached to it; you could not believe you let Soap drag you in here again.

At least this time, the door was locked and your shenanigans weren't encroaching on your work hours.

You didn’t see yourself as someone so easily swayed, but the Scotsman had very convincing arguments— mainly his puppy eyes and his skillful tongue.

Today had been more stressful than average, and if there was one thing that Johnny had learned during your relationship, it was that a sure way to soothe the strain in your shoulders was through an orgasm or two. You couldn’t even try to hide your tension from him when there was always one of his hands affectionately wandering and squeezing your shoulders.

Sometimes you wonder which one of you two is getting the better end of the deal; which one is reaping the most pleasure from the zeal he was manifesting between your thighs. You hadn't come up with an answer yet.

Your anxious self would have normally been on the lookout for interruptions, but Johnny was doing too good between your legs to not distract you.

Kneeling, he has you sandwiched between the wall and himself, trousers and underwear hanging off one of your ankles, one foot placed on his shoulder to grant him better access.

As the band of arousal in your lower stomach tightens, your toes curl and your back arches, and you find yourself helplessly grinding against his face. Your teeth sink harder into your forefinger— pressed into your mouth earlier to muffle your moans. Your free hand uselessly claws at the wall for something to hold onto as pleasure radiates through your body.

Knowing your telltale signs by heart, the Scotsman redoubles in fervor his ministrations. His grip on your thigh and hip hardens, betraying his excitement at the thought of your impending release.

Fuckfuckfuck—

His renewed, blatant eagerness, coupled to the proficiency of his tongue, sends you tumbling over the edge.

You swear in a hushed voice, panting, while your favorite sergeant proceeds to gently clean you up, occasionally halting to press his lips reverently against the soft skin of your inner thighs, his calloused hands caressing any bare part of you within reach.

Later, once you're done catching your breath, and he's done worshipping your plump flesh, you’re about to remove your foot from his shoulder when he dives right back in, like you didn’t just come.

It's your fault, in a twisted kind of way. You were a fool for sincerely thinking that one orgasm would satiate him.

It's not that you don’t absolutely love this, and him, but your legs strongly disagree, and they let you know it.

Twitching and quivering, your now feeble limbs struggle to keep you standing.

“Johnny I— I can't…” you croak.

The result of your plea is instantaneous, practiced tongue retracting from your walls.

He places a tender kiss on your sex. Then he looks up to meet your gaze, not without hungrily licking his lips, a gesture reminiscent of a wolf lapping  the last remnants of his meal. In the half-light, his blue eyes are almost glowing.

“Want tae stop?”

The sight of his stumble glistening with your release sends a throb between your legs— he won't be able to clean himself properly without walking out of your hideout to reach the bathroom, out in the open, where anyone could see. Worse is, you know he won’t mind; hell, may even have counted on it.

“No, but… my legs are giving out.”

“S'that all? Should have said so from the start, hen. I've got ye.”

He grabs the back of your knees and settles your thighs on his shoulders, effortlessly keeping you up in the air.

You would protest that you were too heavy for him to last long in that position, that he was going to hurt himself, but you knew better; after he proved time and time again that he was more than capable of supporting your whole bodyweight.

[glitter-stained]

Another day another ask mysteriously disappearing from my inbox when i'm about to hit post on the reply

Anyway the question was basically "what do you think of the "Jason isn't able to get over his death while bruce is capable of forgiving joe chill and sitting by him as he dies" take and doesn't it sound a little like the "everybody died he ain't special " take?"

Why yes. Yes it does sound like that. My thoughts on that idea, in no particular order:

- it's almost 2025 are we still placing moral judgement on characters based on the comparison between how they're enduring their trauma what happened to the universal singularity of human suffering what happened to not comparing apples and bananas weren't we taught not to do that in elementary school

-Is this about the Three Joker comics? It sounds like it is, anyway uh that comics is not mainline (and has pretty shitty writing imo), in mainline even in his least flattering runs (ie Battle for the Cowl) Jason hasn't gone postal because of his death in a while (in BTFC it was Bruce's death and the mention of the "unresolved dark horrors of his childhood" triggering a bad parody of some sort of psychotic break) so like i guess criticizing Jason for something he isn't doing is kinda strange

-if anything Bruce is the one "not over" Jason's death considering the flashback he had right at the beginning of Failsafe arc (though of course demanding he just gets over the trauma of holding his dead son's corpse is just as absurd as demanding Jason gets over the trauma of having died)

-honestly staying by Chill's side as he died was pretty cool and heroic on Bruce's part, totally agreed, that was badass of him to not let him die alone despite his trauma. That being said can we please stop tying morality to the concept of forgiveness? Implying there's a goodness of heart to forgiving/getting over your trauma is weird, it way too puch pressure on the victim, we should stop with the "good victim/bad victim" narrative, martyrdom culture is harmful. If forgiving Chill helped Bruce, cool for him, Jason is in no obligation to forgive Joker, and also Bruce forgiving Chill =/= staying by his side as he died, those are two separate things

-if we're comparing coping we have to compare resources, what does Jason's support system at that time compared to Bruce? Should we make a tally to see who has more friends especially close ones? We both know who will win but also that it's a completely stupid and pointless arrangement, how many apples and oranges must we compare before we conceptualize that it's not the same fruit?

-in terms of personal taste, I find placing moral judgement on characters is about the least interesting analysis angle I can imagine, like, congrats, you've established Angel McPerfect is a better person than Asshole McInteresting! Now multiply me by one and subtract zero.

-kinda hilarious to criticise Jason for not getting over his death and compare that to the coping of a man who dresses as a bat to cope with something that happened thirty years ago. Like if he's so over his trauma why is he wearing pointy ears

-also, obviously, the idea that characters should just "get over their trauma" is insanely dumb. Trauma is like a wound. It can scar, if treated properly, and then the scar will always be there. Imagine telling someone they should get cosmetic surgery because "we get it, you got stabbed, you don't have to shove it in my face every time I look at you." Or telling someone whose wound got infected "why can't you be more like this guy? Look, his stab wound is all healed nice and clean by now. It's like you're not even trying !"

Anyway I hope that answers your question and you have a good day anon, I agree with you that that take is weird, I truly don't understand the reasoning beside "i don't like jason". Idk maybe these people just need to...chill.

[makoredeyes]

(are these still open?x) 30. Misraaks and Saint x

YESSSSS thank you for sending me probably one of my favorite prompts! <3 <3 <3

#30 - as a comfort

The Market District was a bright place full of color, movement, light, and sound. Life moved all around Saint as he ambled carefully around shoppers and booths alike, admiring the people as much as the wares on display.

There were enough humans here mingling with the Eliksni of House Light that Saint almost blended in, if it weren't for his significant stature, and that, for the moment at least, he was the only Exo in the crowd. It warmed his heart to see Humanity and their once enemies mixing peacefully. It was a beautiful day. The sun was out, the sky was clear. The scent of flowers mixed with sweetly with roasting meats and breads. A pair of Drekhs plucked away on acoustic guitars in the shade of a tree, the couple tinkering on a duet together. Saint shot them a smile as he passed and one raised a secondary arm in greeting. The other, a transplant from another house, was still regrowing docked arms, but tipped its snout up instead. Saint's smile brightened as he passed along, ducking under low-hanging flower pots and through an archway.

Eido's grotto was cooler, but no less bright than outside. There were flowers everywhere, and butterflies danced in sunbeams filtering down through the ceiling. Saint reckoned they must be drawn to her sweet demeanor because he'd seen them nowhere else outside. One curious, sociable creature knew another, he reasoned warmly.

The young Scribe was nowhere to be seen, but her concoctions burbled and bubbled quietly on overladen workbenches, so Saint thought she must not be too far away. She never was.

She didn't like to leave her father out of her sight for too long these days.

Neither did Saint.

Unconcerned with examining Eido's work too closely, Saint turned away from that patch of sunshine to the shadow in the corner, his eyes dimming.

Misraakskel sat slumped in his throne, arms folded tight around his carapace, head lowered, the lights of his helm dim as he slumbered. For a minute, Saint stands planted where he is, watching. Misraaks is shrinking, his armor loose on his body, his limbs slim. The seat of the great chair supporting him seems to swallow his body instead of surround it.

There is no ignoring that the Kell of the House of Light is ailing.

As Saint watches, Misraaks' head tosses, the Kell hissing audibly with a hard vent of Ether. His legs twitch, and the claws of his hands scrabble against the armor covering his thighs. He jerks, moaning. The shadows surrounding him have grown longer. Darker.

Saint knows the evil that haunts him.

Looking around and confirming they are alone, he strides across the room and right up the dias, squaring his shoulders as he walks.

"Leave him alone, you vile wretch," he hisses, his voice low. He is looking at Misraaks, but he is addressing someone - something - else. He knows what is there, even if he cannot see it, and he is not afraid. "You are not allowed power here this day. Be gone!" He reaches Misraaks, and a distinct chill, wet and slippery like an ice cube, slides right down his spine to settle uncomfortably low in his gut, but Saint ignores it.

"Misraakskel," he whispers, bending low over his friend. "You are strong. You are loved. And today, you are safe with the Saint." He bends at the waist and kisses the knuckles of one of Misraaks' hands gently.

The shadows seem to ease, and Misraaks heaves a sigh, his slumber becoming restful as soon as Saint touches him. 

Saint pulls back, surprised that was truly all it had taken, but then nods curtly to himself, satisfied with the results.

"Good," he murmurs to himself. "Then I will stay."

With that, he folds himself up at Misraaks' feet and settles down to stand guard for as long as it takes.

It was the least he could do, after all, after everything.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[11:19 am]

(cw: f!reader, surprise genre hehehe)

Doyoung's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. You looked gorgeous, he always thought so but today... today you looked ethereal, like an angel. The flowy material of your dress makes you look like you came down from heaven to grace him especially with your presence.

"Doyoung," you breathe out, looking up at him through your eyelashes. Your eyes are wide with surprise, eyelids sparkling with the glitter dabbed across your eyelids.

Doyoung feels his breath hitch in his throat, his heart pounding so hard and fast he fears it might jump out of his chest. "You look... you- wow." He stutters out, his cheeks flushing with surprise and admiration.

The bridal party hustles around the small room behind you, a flutter of sage green chiffon and small bouquets of flowers. You step outside the door and shut it quietly behind you, not wanting your bridesmaid to know you're with him. "What are you doing here?" You ask nervously, fingering fumbling with the lace of your veil.

"I wanted to see you," Doyoung answers softly.

"No, Doyoung. I mean what are you doing here. You weren't invited," you reply coldly.

Ex-boyfriend!Doyoung sighs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be out of the country by now or at least 10,000 feet in the sky. He didn't want to be anywhere near this event! Yet, here he was. After hearing that one of your mutual friends was coming last week, he'd known he wasn't going to actually be on his flight.

He found the same friend, found a selfie they'd posted on their story, and narrowed down the venue to a few different places. He got lucky that he got it right on the first try.

He runs a hand down his face, "I wanted to talk to you. See how you were doing, hopefully- hopefully..."

"Hopefully what? Change my mind? Convince me to leave my fiance?" You question while crossing your arms across your chest defensively.

"Not that, I just... I can't let you do this. I can't let you marry someone else, we belong together," Doyoung explained, reaching for your hands with a hopeful look in his eye.

You pushed his hands away, "no, you don't get to let me do anything. We're not together and we haven't been for 4 years. We've barely talked in all that time and you decide that the day I'm getting married is the day to try to make amends? What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" Doyoung repeats as he feels his throat get thick, "What's wrong with me is that I've been miserable since we broke up!"

You sigh tiredly to keep yourself calm, "I broke up with you. Do you know why?"

"It was the wrong moment for us. We were always going to come back to each other. We're soulmates," Doyoung stammers out.

"No, I broke up with you because you couldn't compromise. You refused to make changes in the life we were building together to benefit the both of us. It was your way or the highway and I was tired of forcing myself to be who you wanted me to be. I'm not leaving with you, I'm not leaving my fiance for you, I'm not ever going to force myself to make a decision that you've already made for me ever again. I'm happy, I'm marrying the love of my life and he's not you," you tell Doyoung in a calm, collected voice.

You'd dreamt of this moment since you both broke up and he refused to acknowledge the truth. He refused to believe that he was the problem or could ever be a problem in general. Every couple of months he'd reach out, trying to rekindle things, but when you tried to address the issue, he deflected and the conversation became useless. After a couple pointless conversations, you stopped replying, stopped holding out hope for change. You allowed yourself time to heal, to get out there, meet new people, and fall in love with someone who was the human embodiment of your better half.

One of your bridesmaid opens the door, a surprised, "oh" ringing out in the tense silence between you and Doyoung. "It's time to head out for the first look," she tells you quietly.

You nod, looking Doyoung in the eye, "Bye, Doyoung."

He knows that if he speaks, he'll barely be able to get any words out with the knot he feels in his throat, so he just nods. He walks away, blinking rapidly to try to keep himself from breaking down and bawling like a baby. As he leaves, he spots your fiance with his groomsmen. He can see the radiant smile on his face and hear how excited he is, hear the way he gushes about you in a way Doyoung doesn't remember doing himself.

[maomiscorner]

Holding on to You - short ff

Background: In this romantic fanfiction, Y/N, a girl battling depression and anxiety, finds comfort and hope in her relationship with Jake, a member of ENHYPEN. Through his love and unwavering support, Y/N learns to see the light in herself, even on her darkest days.

Pairing: idol!Jake x f!reader

There was a calming stillness in the small café tucked away in the alleys of Seoul. The soft, warm lights illuminated the pastel-colored walls, creating an intimate and cozy atmosphere. Y/N sat by the window, watching the light rain fall gently on the glass. It was her favorite spot, the one where she often retreated with Jake, far from the eyes of the world.

But today, she was alone. Jake was still busy with rehearsals for the new album, but he had promised he would come soon. Despite that, a slight sense of anxiety started creeping into her chest. Y/N wrapped herself in her oversized sweater, seeking comfort. Ever since she started dating Jake, her days had become brighter, but sometimes those dark moments came back. Depression and anxiety were like old ghosts that never fully left her in peace.Lost in those thoughts, the familiar sound of the door opening brought her back to reality. Looking up, she saw Jake walk in, his hair still a bit damp from the rain, and that smile that always made her heart beat a little faster. He quickly made his way to her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before sitting next to her.

"Did I make you wait too long?" he asked, his voice soft and concerned.Y/N shook her head, trying to hide the lingering restlessness inside. "No, everything's fine. I'm just happy you're here." Jake watched her carefully, as if he could read her deepest emotions without her needing to say a word. He had always been so attentive, so caring. Even when she felt lost within herself, he was there, with that gentle smile that seemed to pull her back to the surface. "I brought something for you," he said suddenly, pulling a small package from his jacket pocket.

Y/N looked at him curiously, her eyes widening. "What is it?" "Open it and see." With slightly trembling hands, Y/N opened the package to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a small star-shaped pendant. It was simple, elegant, yet incredibly meaningful.

Words struggled to come out. "Jake... it's beautiful, but why?" Jake smiled, taking her hand tenderly. "Every time you feel lost or sad, I want you to look at this star. Because even in the darkest nights, there's always a light shining for you. And that light, Y/N, is you. Even if you don't always see it."

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion. There were times when the world felt too heavy to bear, but Jake always managed to remind her of her worth, even when she forgot it herself.Tears filled her eyes, but they weren't from sadness. It was as if Jake's love could melt away that invisible grip that often held her captive. "Thank you," she whispered softly, squeezing his hand. "I don't know how you do it, but you always make me feel better." Jake gently stroked her cheek, his gaze full of tenderness. "You don't have to thank me. That's what people who love each other do, right? They take care of one another."

Y/N nodded, feeling surrounded by a warmth that went beyond words. In that moment, with Jake by her side, the world seemed less frightening. He was her safe harbor, her light in the dark. "Just promise me one thing," Jake said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them."What?" "That you'll keep fighting, even on the days when everything feels harder. I'll always be here, but you're stronger than you think."

Y/N smiled through her tears, feeling the bond between them grow even stronger. It was true, her battles weren’t over, but with Jake by her side, she knew she could face anything.

Because love, true love, was the greatest strength of all. And in that moment, with the sound of rain in the background and Jake's warm hands in hers, Y/N understood that she wasn't alone. She never would be.

Jake kissed her gently, a simple gesture yet filled with promises. A promise of love, of support, and of a life to be lived together, despite everything.

[sturnswrites]

fragments of us - pt.1

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

⤳ you and chris get in a car accident not only testing your relationship but also your memory…

⤳ car accident, angst, sadness, memory loss, hospital

----------------------------------------------------------------

The highway stretched before them, a ribbon of asphalt illuminated by the car’s dim headlights. Rain pattered against the windshield, a quiet rhythm that did little to quell the storm brewing inside the car.

“Why do you always do this?” your voice cracked as you threw your hands up, frustration and hurt lacing your words.

Chris’s jaw tightened, his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “Do what, Y/N? Tell me, because apparently, I’m just the worst, right?”

“You shut me out!” you snapped, your tone sharp but trembling. “I’m here, Chris. I’m trying to be here for you, but you act like it’s some kind of weakness to let me in.”

Chris exhaled harshly, his gaze fixed on the rain-slicked road. “It’s not about shutting you out. I just don’t think every little thing needs to be turned into some huge conversation. Not everything is a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” your voice cracked, the raw emotion in your tone cutting through the tension. “God, do you even hear yourself? You think me wanting to understand you, wanting to know what’s going on in your head, is me making a big deal out of nothing?”

He finally turned to glance at you, his face a mixture of frustration and regret. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” you challenged, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Because all I hear is you making excuses to avoid being vulnerable. You think I don’t see how hard it is for you to let people in? I get it, Chris, but you can’t keep pushing me away like this.”

“I’m not pushing you away!” he snapped, his voice louder than he intended. The words echoed in the confined space, leaving a charged silence in your wake.

“Yes, you are,” you whispered, your voice barely audible now. “And I’m so tired of fighting for a place in your life when it feels like you don’t even want me there.”

Chris opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. The road ahead blurred as his mind raced, trying to process your accusations and his own inability to counter them. His heart was pounding, not just from the argument but from the creeping realization that maybe you weren't entirely wrong.

It all happened in an instant.

The headlights of an oncoming car veered slightly into their lane. Chris’s eyes snapped back to the road, and he swerved to avoid it, the tires screeching against the asphalt. ““Chris, look out!” you screamed, your voice piercing through the night. 

His instincts kicked in as he jerked the wheel to the right, the car skidding on the slick pavement. Time seemed to slow as you spun out of control, the world a blur of rain and headlights. The screech of tires, the crunch of metal, the shattering of glass—all of it collided into chaos.

Your scream was cut off abruptly. And then there was nothing.

-

Chris’s eyes fluttered open to the blinding brightness of hospital lights. His head throbbed, his body aching with a dull, relentless pain. He blinked, his vision swimming as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

“Chris,” a familiar voice called softly, breaking through the haze.

He turned his head to see Matt sitting beside him, his face pale and etched with worry. “Hey, you’re awake,” Matt said, his tone gentle but strained.

Chris tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in his ribs forced him back down with a grimace. “What… what happened?” he croaked, his throat dry and raw.

Matt hesitated, his expression torn. “You were in an accident. The car flipped. You’ve got a few bruised ribs, but you’re okay. That’s what matters.”

Chris’s eyes widened as the memories came flooding back. The rain, the headlights, your scream—“Y/N,” he gasped, panic seizing him. “Where is she? Is she okay?”

Matt placed a firm hand on Chris’s shoulder, trying to steady him. “Chris, listen to me—”

“Where is she?” Chris demanded, his voice rising. He pushed Matt’s hand away, his heart pounding. “Is she okay? I need to see her!”

“She’s alive,” Matt said quickly, his voice breaking slightly. “But, Chris… she hit her head. She’s hurt. They’re running tests to see the extent of it.”

Chris’s stomach dropped. “I need to see her,” he said again, his voice trembling.

“They’re not letting anyone in yet,” Matt explained, his tone heavy with sympathy. “She’s stable, but they need to monitor her.”

“I don’t care,” Chris said, his voice cracking. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the searing pain in his chest. “Take me to her, Matt. Please.”

Matt sighed, his hand tightening on Chris’s shoulder. “Chris, you can barely stand. You need to let the doctors do their job.”

Chris’s eyes filled with tears, his hands trembling. “I was driving,” he whispered, the weight of the guilt crashing over him. “This is my fault.”

Matt knelt beside him, his voice firm but kind. “It was an accident, Chris. You didn’t do this on purpose. Stop blaming yourself.”

But Chris couldn’t hear him. The image of your terrified face as the car spun out replayed in his mind, a haunting loop he couldn’t escape.

-

When the doctors finally allowed him into your room, Chris’s heart broke all over again. You lay motionless on the hospital bed, your head wrapped in bandages, your face pale and bruised.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice shaking as he stepped closer.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, unfocused at first. Chris held his breath, waiting for recognition to dawn in your gaze.

But it didn’t.

“Who are you?” you asked, your voice weak and disoriented.

Chris froze, his heart plummeting. “It’s me,” he said softly, his voice breaking. “Chris. It’s Chris.”

Your brows furrowed, confusion clouding your features. “I don’t… I don’t know you,” you said, your voice trembling.

The words hit him like a physical blow, knocking the air out of his lungs. He stepped back, his hands shaking.

The doctor stepped in, his tone clinical and detached as he explained, “She’s suffered memory loss due to the trauma. It’s not uncommon in cases like this. Some memories may return, but it’s uncertain how much.”

Chris barely heard him. His eyes were locked on you, who stared at him with a mix of fear and confusion. The love that once shone in your eyes were gone, replaced by emptiness.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chris turned away, his chest heaving as he fought back tears. The weight of his guilt was suffocating, the realization that he had lost you—not just to the accident, but to the void in your mind—crushing him.

And as he stood there, watching you, the woman he loved slip further away, he silently vowed to do whatever it took to bring you back to him.

-

The doctors explained it clinically, their words detached and matter-of-fact. “The traumatic brain injury has caused significant memory loss,” they said. “It’s not uncommon for patients to forget certain people or events, especially those tied to recent memories. There’s a chance some of her memories could return with time, but there are no guarantees.”

Chris barely heard them. The words swirled around him, meaningless against the pounding in his head.

He sat in the hospital chair, staring at your sleeping form, his chest heavy with guilt. He replayed the argument in his mind—the things he said, the things he didn’t say. If he hadn’t been so distracted, if he’d just kept his eyes on the road, if he’d been paying attention…

Matt and Nick arrived not long after, their faces pale and drawn. Matt crouched beside Chris, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” he said gently. “This isn’t your fault.”

Chris shook his head, his eyes fixed on you. “It is,” he said quietly. “I was driving. I should’ve been paying attention. She was upset, and I didn’t…” His voice cracked, and he looked away, swallowing hard.

Nick knelt on his other side, his voice firm but kind. “Chris, you didn’t cause this. It was an accident.”

Chris didn’t respond. The weight of his guilt was suffocating, pressing down on him like a physical force. He couldn’t shake the image of you looking at him with confusion and fear, couldn’t stop hearing your voice saying, “Who are you?”

And for the first time in a long time, Chris felt completely, utterly helpless.

----------------------------------------------------------------

I wrote this idea before chris got his license just ironic timing

----------------------------------------------------------------

@mattsdillon @hesvoid3434 @admeliora94 

[palmastrings]

Mephisto brain rot

To be born for someone else.

Mephistopheles knew his place in the world from a young age. Being part of nobility, no matter how privileged he was, didn't mean he ever had the freedom to choose what he wanted in life. It was only whatever reflected well on his family. The silver spoon in his mouth could never cure the emptiness in his soul nor the realization that he could never be what he was made for.

From the moment he learned to utter words, before he could recognize food, he knew Diavolo. The crown prince was born just a little earlier, the sole heir to the gilded throne of hell, fated to be alone following the sudden passing of his mother. The young prince was a mysterious face, even to the demons closest to the royal family. Mephisto was special though. He was conceived to be Diavolo's playmate. He could be the key to reconnecting the king and his son to the rest of the Devildom.

For many years he felt gratified. He grew up next to Diavolo, orbiting to his side at every opportunity. His purpose was destined to be fulfilled, a promise whispered to him. The pair grew powerful and hallowed. When the crowds sang Diavolo's praises, it was as if they praised him too. Mephisto was so content, he failed to miss the distant gaze in Diavolo's eyes, or the growing ambition in Diavolo's heart to do more in life than just this.

Mephisto knew his place in the world from a young age. Nobility was above common demons and were expected to affirm that authority when they saw something out of line. Mephisto thought he knew Diavolo's place too. The next king of Hell, to rule with an iron fist and affirm the power of the Devildom to any adversaries foolish enough to question the power of demons. There was always an imaginary script Mephisto felt the world followed, nobody had taught him differently. So, imagine his utter disbelief when, out of the blue, Diavolo confided to him that he'd had a diplomatic meeting with the Morning Star himself, and it went FABULOUSLY? Watching Diavolo ramble on and on about the world outside of the Devildom, about peace and understanding, almost sent Mephisto into cardiac arrest on the spot. Where had this come from all of a sudden? He knew Diavolo like the back of his hand. He knew what he did and didn't eat, he knew his routine from morning until night, he knew what made him smile in approval. So how could he have missed it? His purpose is to be Diavolo's right hand, his support and advisor, his best friend.

Nothing could hide the growing swell of resentment and pain in his heart.

Mephistopheles though he knew his place in the world. He was confused, confused how quickly Diavolo turned his back on him to sing the praises of those damned angels. How Diavolo could only spare a polite smile at him whenever Mephistopheles brought news of the good work he had done to keep order in the rising chaos of Diavolo's new rule, or of the growing wealth of their class? Be that as it may, Mephistopheles chased to be in Diavolo's space anyways. He observed from as close as he could. He felt a growing twinge of disgust as the crown prince resigned himself to keeping the traitorous rebels comfortable.

Which now brought him to them. Seven shooting stars, seven enemies of the realm. Seven freshly banished doves stripped of their pristine feathers, come to mingle with the prince. Mephistopheles kept his chin up high, just as he was raised to do. They weren't worth a sparse glance, not from someone like him. The more sadistic part of him reveled in how frightened they were. Those brothers, who bathed in the warmth of the sunlight and the sweet breeze of the Celestial Realm's winds, now found themselves enveloped by the predatory night of the Devildom. Their steps were cautious, afraid to step into the awaiting teeth of Hell's denizens and monsters. A fish out of water indeed.

His glee was short-lived when they quickly climbed the ranks of the long-established hierarchy of demons. They swallowed their fear, pushed it down their throats into their stomachs. Mephistopheles made the mistake of believing they would just be content with being seen as meek fallen angels, unable to crawl out of Diavolo's fenced yard. But they were rebels after all, intolerant to mistreatment. They struck fear into the hearts of demons everywhere, a sinful song they sang that sent everyone reeling back into their homes. Even as high-ranking as Mephisto was, he couldn't look down on them anymore. Finally, the day would come when they would outrank even him.

The path carved out for him was now trampled. No longer was Mephistopheles revered, but mocked. Every attempt he took to fall into Diavolo's circle was in vain. He became even more desperate when his own family wouldn't spare a glance his way either. His one purpose in life was to be of service to Diavolo, and he failed. Every prestigious family was now more distant from the crown prince than ever, replaced now with seven fresh faces, and Mephistopheles was to blame.

He starved for purpose. Longed for validation. He stood alone now. Of course, he is respected for his title, but he was missing the closeness of family, no- friendship.

To be more.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Mephisto held the little hand close to him. Nothing in any of the three realms could ever tarnish a moment like this. His little brother. A few fires alight in the palm of his hand. Suddenly nothing in the world mattered anymore, every problem melted away. When he looked in his big eyes, Mephisto saw a piece of his own soul peer back at him. Nothing could ever truly take away from the inner turmoil he felt inside himself, not forever at least. But in the meantime, he could promise one thing. He'll do his brother right.

[sams-butt-dem0n]

i loved ur hc about breaking up with the gang! could you do the gang breaking up with reader?

The Gang Breaking Up with Reader

DARRY would have the simple excuse of not having enough time for you due to his busy work schedule and taking care of his brothers in the small amount of spare time he had at the end or beginning of each day. You had tried to convince him that you didn't care that the only time you got to spend together was in bed after a long day, but he wasn't having any of it. "I'm sorry," he says. "I really am. I don't want to do this but it's only fair." "Darry, how often do I have to tell you that I don't care about you not being here all the time? I enjoy the time we have together already and I know that you're busy and stressed but that's okay. I love you. Please don't do this to me." "I'm sorry," he repeats, turning to look away from you. "I'm heading off to work in five minutes. I want you out of here before I get back."

SODAPOP would hate to have to break up with you but he feels like it's the right thing to do. It's definitely due to his lack of self-confidence in a relationship since he found out about Sandy cheating on him and moving away. Don't get me wrong, he's confident in his looks and everything but when it comes to relationships, he tends to beat himself up about every tiny detail. "Y/n, I gotta tell you something," he says, his voice quieter than usual as he stands at your front door. "Yeah? What's wrong baby?" You ask, confused as to why he was at your house when you were supposed to be at his place in less than an hour. "Please don't call me that. It'll only make this harder." You were really confused now. "Huh? Soda what are you talking about?" "I can't do this anymore." He says, straightforward as ever. "What?" You ask, tears welling up in your eyes. "Why? What are you doing/ Did I do something wrong?" "I don't know. I don't know if you did something wrong. Tell me if you did won't you?" "Soda, you sound crazy right now," you say. "Talk to me, don't do this." "I can't. I just can't How do I know you aren't two-timing me, huh?" You were shocked at what he just said to you; appalled even. "You think I'd do that to you? You really think that low of me?" He stays silent. You nod, close your eyes tightly and when you open them again, a single tear rolls down your cheek. "Stay there," you say, walking away from the door and leaving him standing there for about 5 minutes, wondering if you were ever going to come back. You dump all of the shirts and jackets and little crafts he'd given you in front of him on your patio and throw a plastic bag at him afterwards. "I can't believe you think I'd do that," you said. "So much for trust."

PONYBOY was nervous when he realised he wanted to focus more on school than on his relationship. He didn't want to disappoint Darry with his grades dropping since he was with you. He felt as though you held a restriction against him from succeeding even though he knew you weren't in his heart. "Y/n," he says to you as you're walking him home. "Yeah?" You ask, turning your head to look at him. "I- um. I have something to say but I know you won't like it." "What is it?" You ask. "You can tell me anything, I promise I won't get mad." "I want to break up." He says, bluntly. "What?" You ask, stopping dead in your tracks, his house is only a few hundred yards away. "I need to focus on my schoolwork and you're not letting me do that," he explains, angering you more and more by the second. "What do you mean I'm not letting you do that? Pony, all we ever do Is read and study whenever we're over at each other's houses," you reply. "And the one day a week where we aren't studying, we spend some time together and out with the gang. Just like everybody else on a Saturday." "Just respect my decision," he says. "Respect? Why should I?" You ask, getting angrier by the minute. "You want me to respect you breaking up with me for pretty much no reason because the one you 're giving me makes no sense." "Just go home," he snaps before turning around and walking away, leaving you standing there, tears rolling down your face.

DALLAS would break up with you right after he gets out of the cooler. He had convinced himself you were cheating on him with Sodapop, similar to Sylvia. You had gone over to Buck's the second you had found out he was free again and walked in with a huge smile beaming across your face. However, when you opened the door, Buck gave you the dirtiest look he could before mumbling something under his breath and watching you walk past him and up the stairs. Weird. "Hey, Dal!" You exclaim, opening the door and jumping onto his, wrapping your arms around him. "I missed you." Usually, he would hug you back and kiss you on the head, telling you how much he had missed you too; even when he was only in there for a couple of nights. This time, he shoves you away from him, anger displayed across his face. "Dal?" You ask, confused. "What's wrong? Did something happen while you were in the cooler?" "You tell me, y/n. You tell me what happened," he says, snarling at you. "I- I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't done anything. at least, I don't think I have," you say, trying to think if you had done anything wrong in the three weeks he had been gone. "Don't pull that's hit!" He yells, scaring you and making you jump a little. "I know what you did, you little whore! I know you fucked him!" What the fuck was this guy talking about. "What!? I didn't fuck anybody! I haven't had sex since a few nights before you got done in, and that was with you." "Oh, bullshit!" "Who did I fuck then, huh? Who are you convinced that I slept with?" You ask, yelling in his face, hurt in your eyes. "Soda." You almost laugh in his face but remember that probably would be the smartest thing to do. "Seriously? Soda?" You say. "You really think I would do something like that? How could you?" "How could I?" He yells. "How could you! You fucked my friend!" You shook your head and scoffed. "I don't know why I bother. You're clearly not listening to me and you don't want to believe me. Ask Soda about it and then you'll see that I have not laid a finger on him."

JOHNNY breaks up with you after weeks of weighing up the pros and cons. He felt that you were too good for him and someone with a life as messed up as his doesn't deserve someone as perfect and as gorgeous as you. "Johnny?" You ask, seeing a figure lying on the concrete in the lot as you're walking home late from the drive-in. "Is that you?" "Y/n," he says. "I'm sorry." "Why are you sorry?" You smile, helping him up onto a bench, sitting beside him and holding his hand. "You have no reason to apologise." "I do, though," he says, hesitating before continuing. "I can't keep doing this." "What do you mean?" You ask, worry clouding your eyes. "I can't keep doing this. I'm constantly embarrassing you when we're out together; I can't tell that people make fun of you for dating me. I'm nowhere near good enough for you. I can't sit here and watch you waste your life away for someone like me. You deserve some rich fancy soc like Rndy or Bob." "Johnny, what the hell are you talking about?" You say, letting go of his hand. "I love you more than anything. I don't care what anybody else thinks and if you think that I should then why? Why should I care? if they saw you the way that I do then they'd all understand." "I've made up my mind," he says, not bothering to look you in the eyes as he gets up, his back facing you. "And there's nothing you can say to change it." With that, he walks away, leaving you sat on the bench with hot tears streaming down your cheeks, leaving red lines on the skin. Cold. Lonely. And confused.

STEVE has some trouble with girls. He always ends up saying the wrong thing and, similar to Johnny, he feels that you are way too good for him to treat you the way that he knows he eventually will. He knows damn well that one day, you'll get sick of him being a dick and leave him anyway, just like everyone else. So why bother waiting until then when he could just end it right now? The phone rings. "Hello?" You say, picking it up after a couple of dials. "Hey, babydoll," Steve says, his voice making you smile. "Hi, handsome," you reply. "What can I do for ya?" "I have to talk to you about something," he says. "But I want you to hear me out first." "O...kay?" You say, confused about what is about to happen. "Am I in trouble?" "No," he chuckles. "But I know I will be soon." Your smile drops. What is he doing? "Firstly, I want to tell you how much I love you. I think you are the most amazing woman I have ever met and I want you to know that this is not your fault and I have loved every moment with you." He says, making a tear form in your eye. You know what he's doing. "Steve," you whisper. He never shows his emotions like this. the most he's ever said to you is that he loves you and thinks that you're the most gorgeous broad he's ever seen. He has never admitted his feelings this extremely before. "I can't let you be with me anymore. I don't want to be a part of your life anymore. I know I'll just ruin it. I'll be over tomorrow morning to pick up my stuff. I love you, y/n." He hangs up. You hold the phone to your ear and drown in the continuous beep of the ending line. You had never been so hurt in your life.

TWOBIT breaks up with you because he finds someone else. I know this makes him out to be a bad person but I feel like he has so much love for you but when he meets this other girl, he knows that if he loved you as much as he thought he did, she wouldn't have sparked so much interest. "Two," you say, looking up at him. "Who's Kathy?" He lowers his head, looking at his hands in his lap. "Shit, baby." "Just tell me," you say, a tear falling onto your cheek. "She's a girl I met a few weeks ago," he admits. "I bumped into her at the dingo while I was waiting for you and the gang and I realised that I liked her. I'm so sorry" "Do you love her?" You ask. "What?" He says, looking at you with watering eyes himself. "You heard me," you say. "Do you love her, Kieth?" You only ever called him Kieth when you were upset or angry. Right now, you were both. He nods, "I think so." You say nothing and stand up, picking up your bag, putting your shoes on and taking one last look at him. One last look at the man you thought you would spend the rest of your life with. The man who had made you so much happier in the three years of dating you had been through. And you leave. Never to speak to him or your friends, the gang, ever again.

[ferrari55lover]

*𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐞*

Lewis Hamilton X Reader *WARNING*- Smut, Oral sex(M receiving), Fluff MINORS DNI

It was an unusually hot summer day in Singapore but more importantly it was race day meaning that you would be watching Lewis race from the Mercedes garage as usual.

But one thing this week wasn't usual, Lewis's performance on the track. You weren't sure whether it was the disappointing race or the inescapable heat but you could tell that Lewis was frustrated from the moment you saw him climb out of his car.

Once Lewis had his helmet off you could see the frustration in his eyes along with a hint of something else... Desire. Once Lewis is standing right Infront of you he wraps his arms around your waist and says "I need you." His voice is low, almost hoarse, as his arms tighten around your waist. His words are raw and unfiltered, carrying a weight that catches you off guard.

You then reply with "Lewis you are aware that we are in public right" this makes Lewis smirk and then he says "let them stare" he says referring to the Mercedes team all around them. His hands tighten slightly on your waist, anchoring you in place as if the world beyond the two of you doesn’t matter. "Right now, you’re all I care about."

You raise an eyebrow, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "Lewis, you’re pushing it," you reply, glancing around at the busy garage. The mechanics and engineers are preoccupied, but you’re all too aware of how visible the two of you are.

His smirk deepens, but there’s a flicker of tenderness in his gaze. Leaning in closer, he murmurs, "Then let’s go somewhere they won’t stare. My room—five minutes, just you and me." You hesitate for a moment but the look in Lewis's eyes made you cave instantly "Alright fine lets go" you say. Lewis took your hand and led you into his drivers room.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Lewis turns to you and pins you against the wall. His desire is palpable, his body pressed against yours as he captures your mouth in a hungry kiss. His hands roam over your body, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake. You can feel his pulse racing, his heart pounding against your chest, and his breathing growing ragged.

As Lewis's impatience grew, he guided you towards the couch in the corner. Without breaking the kiss, he pulled you onto his lap, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he settled you over him. He pulled away from the kiss just long enough to murmur "I need you, now" the heat in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

As you straddle him you can feel his hardness pressing against you through his racing suit. You run your hands up his chest and begin to undo his racing suit slowly pulling it down. Once you've striped Lewis of his racing suit and his fire proofs leaving him in only his boxers you begin to tie your hair up as Lewis watches with desire filled eyes. Then your hands begin to wander lower and... lower on Lewis's body until you reach the waistband of his boxers.

Lewis's breathing hitches as your hand brushes against the waistband of his boxers. His eyes are locked on yours, his gaze intense and filled with desire. He bites his lip as your hand slides behind the fabric, your touch tentative and teasing. Then you slowly begin to slide his boxers off of him

As you slide Lewis's boxers off, his breath hitches once more and he groans in the back of his throat. He grips your hips tighter, his knuckles turning white as he tries to steady himself. The heat in his eyes is searing, and you can feel the intensity of his desire in the air between you two.

"God, I've been wanting this all day" he says between ragged breaths. "tell me where you want me" you say in a seductive tone making Lewis grow even harder "On my knees?" you ask looking up at him.

Lewis's eyes darken with desire as your words sink in. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"Yeah," he replies, his voice strained with restraint "get on your knees then"

You drop down to your knees in front of Lewis, your eyes looking up at him through your lashes. He lets out a shaky exhale as he looks down at you.

"God, you look so good like this," he mutters, his voice rough with need. "So perfect for me"

then you open your mouth for him waiting for him to take charge. Lewis curses under his breath as he looks down at you, your mouth open and waiting. "You're such a good girl," he praises, bringing a hand to your cheek. "Tap my thigh if you need to stop, okay?" You nod up at him, your eyes wide with anticipation. He smirks, his hand still resting on your cheek for a moment longer before it slides down to the back of your head, guiding you forward. "You ready for me princess?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly. You nod again, your eyes still locked with his, and he grins in response.

Without any further warning, he gently pulls your head forward, bringing you right up against his hard length. He lets out a low groan as you take him into your mouth, slowly you start stroking and sucking his length as he moans and groans "yeah, just like that baby" he murmured, his grip on your hair tightening as he began to slowly rock his hips forward pushing himself deeper into you

Lewis's breathing grew even more ragged as you continued to take his length into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him. He groaned again, his grip on your hair tightening as he began to thrust his hips gently, matching your pace. "That's it," he murmured, his voice low and hoarse. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge

Lewis's grip on your hair tightened even further as his muscles started to tense. He was getting close to the edge, and his breathing was growing ragged. "I'm close," he grunted, his voice rough with need. "Are you ready for me?" You nod up at him, trying to communicate your agreement through the current situation. Your eyes lock with his, and you can see the intense desire written all over his face as he growls, his grip on your hair almost painful. "I can't hold it back anymore," he gasps. "I need to… I need to… oh god." he says as he releases into your mouth you moan and swallow.

Lewis then collapses against the back of the couch, his breathing heavy and ragged. He looks down at you with an incredible mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction. "That was… incredible," he gasps, his voice still rough from exertion "but I'm not finished with you yet." you laugh and say "Later baby, you have interviews to go do" this makes Lewis groan and say "Ugh fine... but your mine when we get back to the hotel".