#i figured if it was all going down the drain anyway i might as well share it

[lindwurmkai]

I don't reblog a lot of Palestinian fundraisers because my reasoning is like ... those who have the disposable income to donate regularly know where to find them by now. And those of us who are broke aren't going to suddenly be like, "Damn, this one is particularly heartbreaking, guess I'll donate after all even though I can't really afford it." They're all equally heartbreaking. The situation fucking sucks.

I suppose there is a small chance that some people have the money but are relatively apathetic to the cause and may be suddenly moved to donate if they happen to see the right post at the right time?? Idk. I find it difficult to imagine someone like that.

Back when I had money for a few years, I donated to almost every fundraiser/mutual aid request I saw that looked more or less legitimate. Sometimes I wish I had gone about it in a more organised fashion, but ... I only had money, not spoons. You can't buy the ability to concentrate. (Unless caffeine works for you or you have access to a source of illegal drugs I guess. Congrats?)

Luckily there are people doing the hard work of vetting and collecting fundraisers for us now. Once I've finally got new glasses and don't need to worry about that looming purchase anymore, I'll take a look at those resources myself.

Maybe my assessment of the situation is wrong, but I feel like it wouldn't actually help anyone if all of us reblogged everything because people would just tune it out or blacklist keywords, right? Either because they're broke and knowing they can't help anyway makes them sad, or because they're jerks, or because they already know where to find the masterlist of vetted fundraisers and use it regularly, so the constant reminders are pointless.

I think the most important type of fundraiser/mutual aid request to reblog is the really small ones with no reach, especially when you can vouch for the OP being a real person or you're reblogging it from a trusted mutual who says they can vouch for them being a real person. 🤔

[girlgenius1111]

miscommunications + conversations

alexia x reader alexia has practically stopped speaking in the wake of her second surgery. it's stressing you out, but you don't quite know how to tell her. she gets it out of you anyway. mentioned this the other day, but changed the title :) angst x fluff

"Do you need anything?" You asked, rising from your spot on the couch a safe distance away from your incredibly grouchy girlfriend.

"No." She responded, barely turning her attention away from the old match she had playing on her ipad. You sighed, realizing that it was the match against Benfica. Again. She'd been playing it over and over since her injury, in an almost obsessive manner. You'd said something about it, but she'd simply fixed you with the glare you'd become quite familiar with, and you'd dropped the subject.

Alexia wasn't an easy patient. You'd known this before her second knee surgery, but you were still astounded at how stubborn she was being. She'd barely spoken more than a word to you in weeks, and even though she pulled you close into her at night when she thought you were asleep, you hadn't ever felt like such a failure in your entire life.

Alexia wasn't okay, and she needed something. Something that you couldn't figure out, something you weren't giving her. It was driving you crazy, this feeling of inadequacy.

You were tired, worried, tired of being worried, stressed, and in need of a break. From anything, any one of your responsibilities.

You'd had a lengthy double session today, followed by a long time in the film room reviewing the last match. You'd looked forward to coming home and relaxing all day, but now that you were here, the distance between you and your girlfriend felt suffocating. It was all too much; Alexia acting like a robot, half the team being injured, game after game scheduled for the next week. You felt so stressed you thought your bones might literally shatter under the pressure.

After another rejection of conversation from Alexia, you knew you had to get out of the house before you broke down and cried in front of her. It wasn't her fault you weren't doing a good enough job taking care of her. It wasn't her fault you were so exhausted, every movement was difficult, even though you couldn't, for the life of you, sleep.

You didn't see Alexia look up after you as you left, walking back into the bedroom and pulling your phone out. You clicked the contact you were looking for, hoping she'd answer, and hoping she'd be willing to help you out today.

"Hola."

"Mapi, can you come over and sit with Ale for a bit?"

"Sí, of course. Is everything all right?" Mapi replied, usual joking manner replaced with a sympathetic one. Mapi knew all too well how Alexia was acting.

'Yeah, yeah. I just need a break." You explained. Mapi said she understood, and promised that she'd be there soon. She didn't live far, and you took a few calming breaths in the bedroom, before stepping back out to where Alexia was sitting. This time, she did look up at you, her face scrunching in concern when she noticed just how drained you looked.

It wasn't the first time she'd noticed that you were struggling, but every time she brought it up, the only time you really got more than a few words out of her at once, you turned the conversation around, trying to get her to open up to you. She hadn't missed this, but she assumed that you'd tell her what was going on when you felt ready. Alexia didn't quite seem to realize the effect her cold behavior was having on you.

"I'm gonna go run some errands. Mapi will be here in a bit, and I'll be back in a couple hours." You explained shortly, pressing a kiss onto Alexia's soft lips, and slipping out the door before she could say anything.

Once you were out the door, all bets were off, and you felt tears pooling in your eyes. It was a good thing you hadn't waited for Mapi to arrive, because you wouldn't have made it that long without breaking down in front of her, and that would have just been embarrassing.

Although, getting in the car and driving to an empty parking lot to cry wasn't really any less embarrassing.

-----

You came back from your rather pathetic drive, and walked into the house, finding your girlfriend in deep discussion with her best friend. Though you felt marginally better, you realized you'd forgotten something rather important; crying in your car for an hour would leave you with red and puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks. You hadn't done anything to hide the evidence.

This was clear when both girls stopped talking and looked at you, faces heavy with concern. Mapi stood, crossed the room as quickly as she could on crutches, and pulled you into a hug. The words she whispered in your ear were only for you to hear.

"Talk to your girlfriend. She's going crazy not knowing what's wrong with you."

You sighed, nodding slightly as you led Mapi to the door, waving to Ingrid, biting your tongue to avoid telling Mapi that you hoped she enjoyed her playdate. You and Ingrid had been making the joke for weeks, driving your respective girlfriend's back and forth to each other as they couldn't drive, feeling like parents of 2 very grumpy children.

When you returned to the living room, to Alexia, she was sitting on the couch with her arms crossed over her chest, knee extended in front of her, looking carefully at you. She looked like Alexia again, her hazel eyes looking somehow both sternly and softly at you.

"If I left the house to cry, you would kill me in my sleep."

She wasn't wrong. You were on Alexia all the time about being more vulnerable with you. It was possible, you supposed, that you were being a bit of a hypocrite.

"I didn't leave to go cry, I left, and I cried. It was coincidental." You argued back, sitting next to her on the couch, and taking her outstretched hand. Hers was so much larger than yours, and it encapsulated it completely, the rough calluses and the tight hold she had on you making you feel inexplicably safe. 

"I do not believe you. You have been upset all week, and you refused to tell me why. You call Mapi to come babysit me, you make up an errand to run, and you go cry in your car. When you are upset, you are supposed to tell me, so I can help."

You looked away from her, the extent to which she knew you being slightly overwhelming. Of course she'd known you were upset, and of course she hadn't pushed too hard. Alexia was perfect in that way, always knowing what you needed.

"Mírame," Alexia rasped and you turned towards her, lip wobbling as you finally met her gaze. "Amor," she sighed, pulling you in until you collapsed against her chest. It was a familiar position, with your head resting against her sternum, her arms holding you close. It felt like it had been ages since she’d held you, and you curled into her, clutching tightly onto the green hoodie she was wearing, feeling her lips press softly onto the top of your head. 

You still weren’t fully sold on breaking down in front of her, not when she was the one who had every right to be upset and angry with the world. You had thought, too, that you were all cried out. Unfortunately not, as you took several stuttering breaths trying to stave off your sobs before they really even started. 

Alexia stroked your hair, scolding you very gently. “No, stop that. Cry if you need to, mi amor. You can always feel what you need to feel when you are with me, sí?” 

You tried to pull away, but Alexia was too strong, keeping you stubbornly pressed to her chest.“I can’t, Ale, you-”

“Forget about me. You need to cry, you need me to hold you. We worry about you right now. Not me.” The blonde insisted, her hand sliding up your shirt, blunt nails scratching lightly over your back. She was pulling out every trick she knew to make you fall limp against her, doing everything she could to get you to let go, let her be strong for you when you were always so strong for her. 

You spent the next few minutes almost crying, almost letting go, but not quite. Your hands were fisted in the fabric of Alexia’s sweatshirt, and even though she was telling you that it was okay, you couldn’t stop yourself from fighting against the flood of emotion rushing through you. 

“Mi niña bonita, it’s okay. You’re safe to feel what you need, amor, please.” 

“I can’t Ale,” you whimpered, allowing Alexia’s hand to tilt your chin up away from her chest, towards her face. 

“Why?” She asked, so gently, so adoringly, that you felt a piece of your heart stitch itself back together. 

“You need me to be strong.” 

Alexia shook her head. “No, I need you to be okay. And you are not right now, are you?” 

You responded hesitantly, although you had no argument against her. It was rather evident that you were far from okay. “No.” 

“No.” Alexia repeated, her thumb rubbing little circles into your cheekbone. “You do not need to pretend with me. You have been so perfect, so strong. Let me be strong for you now, okay? Please?” 

Something in her voice, the pleading edge to it, broke you, and you rested your forehead back against your girlfriend’s chest, body trembling harshly with sobs. You inhaled deep gasps of Alexia’s perfume in between your cries, and tried to let it wash over you, as her words were doing. 

“There you go, bebé. You’re alright. I love you. Te tengo, amor. Te amo y te tengo, mi niña bonita.” 

You weren’t sure where this Alexia had come from, the emotionally intelligent version of your girlfriend having been missing for weeks, but you weren’t complaining. Far from it, in fact, as you cried so hard you shook against her, so hard that you exhausted yourself within minutes, gasping breaths turning into quiet whimpers as your eyes fluttered shut, and you relaxed into a light sleep against the blonde. Alexia held you with an unmoving steadiness, even when her knee started to feel stiff from the position it was in. She knew that she’d played some role in whatever was going on here, and she was quite determined to make it up to you. For now, though, she was happy to let you sleep, looking more peaceful than you had in a while. 

------ 

You woke up when Alexia began to shift uncomfortably under you. She couldn’t help it, she’d been laying in the same position for an hour, and her knee was really starting to complain. The blonde had tried to keep still, not wanting to disturb you, but she was clearly not successful when your eyes fluttered open, swollen and red, as you gazed up at your girlfriend. Her jaw was set, but she looked at you apologetically, sighing when you shot up off of her, looking frantically at her knee. 

“I am okay, bebé,” she began.

You scrambled up off of her, practically running to the kitchen to get a new ice pack. 

“Amor, come back,” she called, really not wanting to let you out of her sight before you told her what was wrong. You did return, ice pack in hand but you ignored Alexia’s attempts at conversation, carefully stretching her knee out and adjusting it to a better position. She sighed in relief despite herself, and you gently wrapped the new ice pack around her knee, before giving her an unimpressed look.

“You should have woken me.” 

“I was fine.” Alexia argued, opening her arms to invite you back against her. You hesitated, looking between her face and her knee. “Ven aqui, amor.” 

You relented slightly, curling against her side again to rest your head on her shoulder. Her lips left a soft kiss on the side of your head, and you settled in closer, the feeling of your girlfriend’s arms around you being so perfect after such a tough few weeks. 

“Talk to me, please.” Alexia said quietly after a minute.

“About what?” You replied, partly because you wanted to avoid this conversation, and partly because you knew it would annoy Alexia. 

The blonde pinched your arm lightly, not needing to say anything for you to take a deep breath, and try to explain yourself. 

“I’m just stressed. Everything with the team, the amount we have to play coming up. I’m exhausted, and there’s no time for a break.” 

It was half the truth, half the story, but you deeply hoped Ale would buy it. You didn’t need her to feel like she was burdening you, not when it was your fault, and not when she was having a hard enough time as it was. 

It was quite on brand with how things were going that Alexia saw right through you. 

“And I am not helping.” She murmured, her hand grabbing yours. Her voice was filled with guilt and regret, and you couldn't stand it. 

“No, Ale,”

“Sí,” she interrupted. “I have been moody and quiet and completely unhelpful. That is stressing you out more, yes?” 

To be honest, Alexia wouldn’t have reached that conclusion an hour ago. While you slept, though, she’d been thinking long and hard, and came to the realization that in her attempts to protect you from how awful she was feeling, she’d shut you out. 

“Yeah.” You allowed. 

“I need more than that, bebé.” 

You gave an annoyed huff, but there wasn’t really anything behind it. “It’s not your fault, Ale. It’s hard that I can’t fix everything for you, but it’s not your fault, it’s mine.” 

“I do not need you to fix it for me, amor.” Alexia cut in. 

“It would make it easier if you could tell me how to help you, because what I’m doing isn’t working.” You continued, having worked up the courage to say what you were feeling, and were sure that if you stopped now, you wouldn’t be able to continue. 

“No no no. You have not done anything wrong, you have done everything right.”

You didn’t believe her. “Then why are you so upset with me?” 

Your voice was so small and so hesitant, Alexia shut her eyes for a minute, willing away her emotion so she could explain herself to you. 

“I am not upset with you, amor. I… I am miserable because I cannot play, and I did not want to put that on you. I thought that I was helping you, not stressing you out with my feelings.” 

You shifted against her, the look on your face causing Alexia to sink back into the couch. 

“Well that did the opposite. I was worried anyway. I’m always going to worry, baby. I worry less if you tell me what you’re thinking, though.” 

Now it was Alexia’s turn to shrug noncommittally. You had on that look, though, and Alexia knew she’d cave within a minute. 

“I am sorry, amor. I should have talked to you. I made you stressed and upset for no reason.” 

You sighed dramatically, leaning in to lightly kiss her cheek. “I forgive you. You better start keeping a journal though, and let me read it every night before bed. All of your feelings of the day, written down for me to look through. Then I won’t be mad anymore.” You joked, and Alexia snorted. 

“Fine, you write one too. All your feelings. We’ll trade, and never have to talk to each other.” 

“Perfect.” You smiled, leaning your forehead against hers. 

“Perfect.” She agreed, eyes shutting at the close contact. 

“I love you.” You mumbled. 

“Te amo mucho. Even when you get tears all over my car, and make me beg you to talk to me.” 

You pulled away rolling your eyes. “Fine. You can get your own ice packs, massage your own knee, and drive yourself to your grumpy playdates with Mapi.” 

“Playdates!” Alexia gasped, yanking you back down on top of her, and poking you in the side, making you giggle against your will. “You take away my massages, I take away yours.” Alexia warned. 

You turned to her, betrayed. “You like giving me massages as much as I like getting them.” You reminded her. 

Alexia smiled playfully, her hand creeping up the front of your shirt. You shivered at the contact, taking in the smirk on your girlfriend’s face, knowing exactly what she had in mind. “Do I like to give massages? I do not remember. You will have to remind me.” 

You rolled your eyes, but leaned in, Alexia dominating the heated kiss even as you hovered on top of her, though she was slightly breathless when you slipped your tongue into her mouth. That was Alexia, though. In control of every situation, except when it came to you. Evidently, Alexia didn’t always use her brain when it came to you, her heart took over, and she made decisions she wouldn’t normally make. It was hard to complain, though, when she looked at you like you single handedly made the earth spin on its axis. No, you couldn’t complain. You were her weak spot, and you knew how lucky you were to hold that position.  

-----

some angst and fluff for ya <3

[idontcaboose]

Haunted car Au part 14

So, it has been a week, and it feels like when you wake up from an unplanned 30 minute nap and have to ask 'What year is it?' While feeling like you have been run over by a whole procession of clowns, clown cars, and maybe a camel for good measure. Granted, that may be from the ragweed that is pollinating like crazy, but oh well... new part!

THIS IS YOUR WARNING! SWEAR WORDS! Plenty of cursing ahead! You have been warned!

Previous. Masterpost

It had been over 24 hours since Jason saw Danny. The most troubling thing was, there were no whispers of a trafficking group in that area. He couldn't fathom what had happened to the kid. Barbara couldn't find the kid on her cameras either, so he might need to go to the cave and look at the Batmobile himself. The footage Babs pulled were just as corrupted as the ally cameras were. Maybe the kid built himself a little jamming device, wouldn't be his first strangely useful creation. Whether or not he had a jamming device, he was still missing and none of the other street kids had seen him. He knew they were probably not harboring him with the bounty for finding Danny being as lucrative as it was. Jason knew offering to cook 3 meals a day for a week would get all of his street kids looking, some adults too.

Jason was a little surprised to see Duke looking at the Batmobile's underside when he drove in. Normally only Bruce and Jason worked on the cars since they had the most hands-on experience with them. Case in point, Duke had the car up on the lift with the front doors open. Did he have to sit Duke down and go through safety in maintenance 101? Maybe he could borrow little Timmy's version “The importance of Maintenance Safety: Or why you don't let Megan write safety plans.” It would hit all the important bits and sear the information in with neon yellow and blue comic sans font.

“So, Glowstick, mind telling me why the fuck you are trying to get yourself crushed?” Jason growled at the kid, the helmet making it even more menacing.

Duke gave Jason an unimpressed look. “B got a stick up his ass and thinks I somehow was involved with the Batmobile running weirdly." Duke sneered as he continued. "Last night when Red Robin activated his emergency beacon, the lead goon got in it and ran over some of his goons. The fail safes for theft didn't activate. Somehow, it was my fault. Perks to being the closest non-injured, I guess.”

Jason was surprised at the bitterness the usually sunshine-y kid had.

“Well, good news, we can swap for a bit, and I can teach you properly how to maintain this beast.” Jason offered.

“Why are you so interested?”

“I can't be nice?”

“You are here willingly, and no, you usually are not ‘nice’. So what is it?”

Jason was not expecting such hostility from Duke, but if Bruce had his panties in a twist and took it out on Duke, he could forgive some of the bite. Couldn't hurt to get Duke in on his hunt for Danny anyway.

“I… need help. One of my guys mentioned they bet a kid, named Danny, some money to put a sticker on the Batmobile. No one has seen the kid after entering the alley where the car was parked. Oracle said the cameras were corrupted at the time the kid was there with it. Figured I would check the car for clues.”

“Oh…. Sure.”

They both looked at the undercarriage of the car in silence before Jason gave a snort.

“The kid really did put a sticker on the oil pan. That is hilarious.”

Sure enough there was a Green Arrow sticker, one where he had his arms crossed and looking smug as all hell, positioned in such a way that eluded that when the oil was drained it would look like Green Arrow was pissing.

“That is amazing, if you find the kid let me give them a high-five for that. What does he look like anyway?”

“Adoption bait, pretty much a mini me with a more ‘polite’ mouth.” Jason was sure Duke could hear his smile when talking about the kid.

“No shit? You with manners? I don't think I can imagine that from a Alley Rat.” Duke teased.

“Watch it Narrows, us Alley Rats are all a little rabid.” Jason found himself teasing back before sniffing. “Besides, Alfie would have my head if I didn't have some manners.”

They went back into a more comfortable silence while working, Jason took to looking through the center, hoping to find some sort of clue of a struggle if Danny got nabbed. Duke was focusing on the engine compartment and any wirings that he could follow. It was rather relaxing until Duke went to move some rubber piping to get a closer look at a relay.

Neither person expected the car to shudder and produce a kind of creepy giggle. Duke froze and Jason reacted by tackling him away from the car and pulling one of his guns at the Batmobile.

“What in the ever loving fuck?” Jason screamed, the Batmobile responded with its own car alarm going off.

“Don't shoot! I'm sorry, I didn't expect that to happen, we are still trying to figure things out!” Duke had jumped back up and put himself in front of Jason, waving his hands and trying to keep attention on him.

“We? What the fuck Narrows?!”

“Just, both of you, stop! Hood, gun down, Car dude, stop the alarm. Please.” Duke all but whined the last word in desperation.

Jason took a Very deep breath, and growled out in the now silent cave.

“Car. Dude?”

Next

@kizzer55555 @sebas-nights @candeartist422 @trappednyourheart @fandom-life-corrupted-me @tkiesai @2lbballpeenhammer @admiralwidow @rewrittenwrongs @whotfevenknowsanymore @symmetricalastigmatism @thespacedragons @atinygracie @okami-love @lesbian-spider-drone @1n0sss @forgetmenot-bluepurple

[oskea93]

Kansas Anymore (1)

Tyler Owens x OC

Summary: In which Riley Owens, the ex-wife of the infamous Tornado Wrangler, has 36 hours to come to terms if moving to a whole new country with their small daughter is something she truly wants to do.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, suggested smut, fluff.

If you would like to be tagged, just drop a comment ❤️

“Darling, I don’t understand why he’s making you come to him when he’s perfectly capable of flying out to see her. Is he afraid he’s going to miss a gust of wind and all his little cronies on the internet will stop following his every move?” My mother’s frustration was palpable, her voice cutting through the hum of the car engine.

I stayed silent, the roar of the car on the two-lane road answering in my place. My mother’s loud sigh sounded through the speakers; a noise filled with years of pent-up exasperation. “I’ve never seen a man so self-centered as that one – going around chasing tornados like some kind of deranged jackass.”

An innocent chuckle sounded from the seat behind me. I glanced in the rearview mirror to see Caroline’s little hands folded in front of her face, her bright eyes staring out the window at the passing scenery. The sight of her brought a small smile to my lips, even as my mother’s words lingered in the air.

“Mom, it’s just how he is,” I finally said, my voice tinged with resignation. “Tyler’s always been about the thrill, the excitement. He’s never been one for settling down or thinking about anyone else’s needs.”

“And yet, here you are, always the one making the effort,” she replied, her tone softening slightly. “It’s just not fair to you or to Caroline. She deserves to have her father in her life, not just in fleeting moments when it suits him.”

I leaned my head into the headrest, feeling the weight of the conversation starting to drain me. “Yeah, well, that’s the way we decided, and it’s worked so far,” I replied, my voice lacking its usual conviction.

Mom’s response was immediate, her concern piercing through the speakers. “Well, are you going to tell him that this might be the last time he gets to see her for a while? You have to let him know about your promotion – you can’t just drop that you’re moving to another country with the man’s child over the phone or in a message, Riley.”

I sighed deeply, frustration washing over me. “I know, Mom. It’s just... complicated. Tyler’s never been good with this kind of news. He’ll probably accuse me of trying to take Caroline away from him, even though he’s the one who’s always too busy to be around.”

Mom stayed silent for a moment; her pause filled with unspoken thoughts. “Well, it’s his loss anyway,” she finally said, her voice matter of fact. “I know of plenty of children that grew up without a father and they are doin—”

“Tyler’s always gonna be in Caroline’s life, Mom,” I interrupted, my voice raising just a bit, careful not to get too loud in front of my daughter. “I would never take her away from him – no matter how far away we are from each other.”

My mother sighed on the other end. “I’m just looking out for my granddaughter is all.”

“And I appreciate that, but this is between Tyler and me – not you or anyone else I’m sure you’re gonna blab to.”

My mother huffed on the other end, clearly taken aback by my bluntness. “Riley, I’m only trying to help. You know how much I care about you and Caroline.”

“I know, Mom,” I said, rubbing my temple as I tried to keep my frustration in check. “But I need to handle this my way. Tyler and I need to figure this out ourselves.”

“Fine,” she relented, though her tone still carried a hint of disapproval. “Just promise me you’ll keep me updated.”

“I will,” I assured her. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Don’t forge-,” The call ending before she could finish the sentence.

The car returned to a peaceful state – the only sound heard being that of the show playing on the monitor built into the driver’s seat. The same cartoon that Caroline had been watching for the past two months. Her laughter and the occasional gasp of excitement were the background music to my thoughts as I navigated the familiar streets.

“There’s Daddy’s sign!” Caroline’s voice pierced through my reverie, her little finger pointing eagerly at the familiar landmark.

The fueling station’s parking lot was filled with vehicles that strived to get on the same level as Tyler – the amateurs were always my favorite to watch – trying so hard to get to his attention but backing down once the storm got too close for comfort. Most of them just crowded around him and the gang to witness the spectacle that they displayed. Tyler was the Tornado Wrangler – a title that nearly cost him his life on multiple occasions and demolished our marriage in an F4 fashion.

Tyler’s passion for chasing storms had always been a point of contention between us. The danger, the unpredictability, the constant threat – it was a lifestyle I could never fully accept. And yet, here I was, bringing Caroline to see her father, the man who danced with tornadoes and lived to tell the tale.

I slowly pulled behind a group of professional vehicles, a far cry from noticeable red truck that sat feet away as the man of the hour towered over those in attendance – Boone and Dani passing out t-shirts to those around.

Caroline’s smile never faltering as she kept her eyes on her father, “Daddy’s being silly.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her reaction – a reaction only Tyler could evoke. “Daddy’s always silly, isn’t he?” Her head nodded enthusiastically. I placed the car in park and started gathering my purse, the sound of Caroline’s car seat buckles clanging as she hastily unbuckled herself. “Hold your horses, munchkin.”

She was already halfway out of her seat, her small hands fumbling with the door handle. Her excitement was infectious, and despite my reservations about Tyler’s lifestyle, moments like these made it all seem worth it. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, the warm summer air wrapping around us.

Caroline bounced out of the car, her eyes wide with anticipation. She grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the crowd where Tyler was still holding court. Boone and Dani noticing us first, their faces breaking into welcoming smiles. It had been over a year since I had seen them in person, their kindness towards me never faltering even after the divorce was finalized.

“If you feel it—” Tyler’s bright smile beamed out to the audience, a real showman.

“Chase it!” The crowd shouted back, including the four-year-old at my side, catching her father’s attention in a matter of seconds.

I watched as he hopped down from the truck, the sea of onlookers parting like the Red Sea as his arms wrapped around her small body.

Caroline squealed with delight as Tyler lifted her into the air, spinning her around before pulling her close for a tight hug. Her laughter echoed through the parking lot, a sound so pure and joyous that it made everything else fade into the background.

"There's my little storm chaser," Tyler said, his voice filled with warmth. He gently set her down, and she looked up at him with wide, excited eyes. "Did you have a good flight?"

Caroline's head nodded excitedly. "Mommy yelled at the man sitting behind us because he kept hitting the back of her seat," she blurted out, her eyes wide with innocence. Tyler chuckled, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow. "Is that so?"

I sighed, a bit embarrassed, but unable to suppress a smile. "Well, he was being rude." My shoulders shrugged. "Someone had to put him in his place."

Tyler shook his head, the smile I had fallen for years ago plastered on his scruffed face. "Riled up Riley," he teased, his eyes connecting with mine. "Glad you're sharing that with others and not just me."

I rolled my eyes playfully but couldn't help the warmth that spread through me at his words. "You know me, always fighting the good fight."

Tyler nodded, his gaze lingering on Caroline for a moment before he turned back to me. "Thanks for bringing her out here."

"No problem," I said, watching as Caroline laid her head on his shoulder, her tiny fingers gripping his shirt. "She’s been talking about it all week – about drove me crazy, to be honest." We both chuckled, sharing a moment of amusement.

Tyler's eyes softened as he looked down at Caroline, who was now playing with the collar of his shirt. "I'm glad she's excited. I’ve missed her so much." He gently kissed the top of her head, and she giggled softly.

“She missed you too," I said, my voice quiet but filled with emotion.

The unavoidable conversation of Caroline and I leaving the US for dreary old England was pushed to the wayside for the moment. This was Tyler’s moment with her – I didn’t want to ruin it before it truly even started.

[onyourhyuck]

Bad Habits. | H.RJ

— Prologue: “You have no idea, how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

— Summary: Your boyfriend Renjun offered to blow dry your wet hair, what could go wrong?

— Genre: Smut. Smut. Smut. Boyfriend!Renjun. Kind of cute. Renjun has an obsession to kiss y/n’s neck. Blowdrying hair. Protected sex. Renjun’s love for y/n’s chest. Teasing. Soft mild choking. Fingering receiving (f) Consensual. many many climaxes. Nickname used ‘Baby’ a lot.

— Notes: I might be in my renjun smut era rn.

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You let the hot water run down your back all the way from your short thick hair. You enjoy the warmth and the steam building in the bathroom. It’s always nice to come home and have a relaxing evening showering especially after such a stressful day at work. Your boyfriend, Renjun, prepared the shower for you actually. He let it ran so you can have the hot water running. He even got the towel and clothes ready and then he left to let you have your own privacy and time to shower properly. Renjun loves to do a lot of things for you even though you don’t ask him to do anything he just ends up doing it for you anyways.

You tend to appreciate these small gestures the most whenever you’re feeling drained and tired. You don’t really like to show or express that you’re having a hard time. So when your boyfriend can sense your feelings through your moods you find it easier to show you’re struggling.

Your job can be very time consuming which then puts a slight strain on your relationship with Renjun. He wants to do many things with you but your job tends to prevent that. You’re a very dedicated worker to your job.

You may love your job but sometimes it can be hard to keep up with it. Even if it is just paperwork. It’s still a lot to do even if people assume at first thay papers aren’t that much of a hard thing to do. It’s more or less time consuming.

Either way you’re home now and you don’t want to think about work anymore so you finish your shower and head out with the towel wrapped around you. You would change in the bedroom. You take your time applying body lotion and then your own skin care routine on your face. You need to moisturise your skin with the products you bought. Once the pyjamas embrace your beautiful curvy figure you sat down on the bed looking in the mirror. You feel refreshed from the shower. Renjun really was right it did help you feel better. As if the weight was lifted off your chest.

The bedroom door opens with Renjun peeking in a little and when he saw you and your damp hair he tilts his head a little. “You still haven’t blow dry your hair Y/n. You’ll get sick if you leave it like this.” You heard him say with a small nagging voice but you didn’t mind it.

You knew he cared for your well-being slightly more than you do for yourself. You gently roll your eyes. “I’ll get on it now then.” You stand up to get the box out with the hairdryer however a hand stops you from moving any further from the bed.

Renjun shakes his head. “I’ll do it for you.” He then said getting the box out putting it next to you on your bed and you look up with a little smile. He really doesn’t want you to work too much at home knowing you’re tired. “Can i blow dry your hair for you?”

Now he was asking you with something glistening behind his eyes and you’re not sure what that was. It almost resembles a fallen star in his eyes that you saw glisten away. Your expression of surprise makes Renjun feel like his words took you to another level of comfort and happiness when he asked if he could blow dry your hair for you. It’s like you didn’t expect him to go the extra mile for you. Renjun would do anything if it can mean you didn’t have to do anything. Heck. He would do everything and you can just be taken care of like the princess you are. Renjun wouldn’t want it any other way for you.

You take a while to figure out what to say but you reckon you can just give him a nod and he would take it as a yes. “Sure you can.” You say with a small shy smile. You never really had anyone drying your hair for you so this might be an experience you think. Renjun saw your permission and his face lit up.

It’s like he’s been waiting to do this for you before. Renjun plugs everything in. The blow dry device powers up and Renjun softly runs his hands through your wet short damp hair. He enjoys to run his hand through it because of how silky and thick it feels when it’s dry. But when it’s wet it’s a clump that he still find’s beautiful. Every inch of you feels responsible for the way his love grows for you even more. Renjun was only bewitched when the cold wet hair slides down the fingers as he starts to now turn on the hairdryer. The hot air blows your hair in different directions, his hands slid up to your roots and down the edges of your strands.

Your eyes close in the pleasant breeze that feels like a valley passing in your mind. The sensation of someone else stirring the arms rotating around the hot air to your damp hair as their fingers slip like growing spring around your scalp makes you feel some type of way; relaxation? Maybe. Perhaps it was the fact that you feel like you are being treated with care. The way your boyfriend’s wrist was so gently when it moved and pushed your hair aside to get every part of your hair to dry up and not be wet from your shower.

It felt too good. You never thought a simple thing like this could make you feel even more at home than you already were feeling like.

Renjun might be your home. Maybe he makes home feel like home to you now.

Your boyfriend smiles when he saw your smiling expression as your eyes were closed shut enjoying how his hands feel around your scalp trying to massage every area so they can dry up. He doesn’t want you to go to bed with damp hair at all. It’s not the most comfortable thing either. Nor is it healthy. Renjun’s smile mimics yours and he cannot help but watch and observe you. He takes every chance to admire you no matter what even when you’re not looking at him, that’s when Renjun takes his opportunity the most.

The eyes fell down like a marble stone falling on the ground between two drainages pipes when he saw the sight of your beautiful glowing neck. In his eyes he feels like this was his favourite part of you. Your neck. Renjun might have a slight admiration for it to the point it might be like he has a massive crush on it. Not because of how beautiful it looks. It’s because he knows how much it gets you going with a rollercoaster of emotions.

The most simplest of touches he could do to your neck would feel like he had you pinned against a brick wall. That’s how much you react whenever your neck comes into contact with something.

Renjun love it though. He can smell your hair and your body lotion you applied from your neckline. He was very close and it makes his heartbeat a little knowing you’re relaxing right now and he’s here trying to not get any urges and thoughts right there and then.

You look too irresistible to not be kissed though. Renjun eventually said screw it in his head and when your hair was a little more dry now, his lips found a way around the back of your nape and placing a small kiss on it. The small kiss was very soft and noticeable. It feels like lavender sprouting from the roots.

Then the kiss on the nape turns into more kisses on the sides of your neckline and then eventually spreading even more across your neck to the front which had your heart skipping a beat from the first pointer kiss he did.

Your voice came out a little better though slight hitch to the tone which your boyfriend took heard notice of. “Renjun…?”

It was a mixture of confusion and surprise. Renjun kissed now a little more deeply but still keeping the relaxed vibe you guys are in. The whole bedroom had a very chill atmosphere and he wasn’t doing anything too much to scare you off. He knows you’re tired. Renjun can feel it on your body muscles. They’re finally relaxed and no longer tense, he wouldn’t want to do anything else than to have you feel loved in the moment.

All Renjun was thinking about was how pretty you sound when he continued to kiss you. He travels up kissing your jawline as he’s still sitting behind you with the warm hairdryer on his lap attached to the nearby plug on the wall next to your bed that you both are on.

He whispers to your ear as he gently and lovingly placed a kiss on it too. “You have no idea, how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

Your boyfriend drag alongside your neck his lips whispering series of sweet nothings. The sequences had you rolling your tongue at the top of your mouth roof when he pressed another sweet and peppering kiss on your smooth skin. “To kiss and to be close to you like this… I’ve missed you.”

Your body betrays you quickly knowing it was your boyfriend making you feel this way, so out of breath as if you ran for miles upon miles. It was one of those things that your body could never get used to. Renjun’s kisses, words, the way he spoke to you with the tone of his voice. It’s too much you found yourself loving it all too well.

You found yourself giving in too quickly than you’d like to imagine. It wasn’t long till Renjun’s lips kissed the corner of your lips which then made you fully engulf yourself in kissing him back now. You closed your eyes and breathed in as he lets out a sigh practically groaning now that you kissed him. It felt so foreign to him nowadays. It’s been too long than he’d like to admit since he kissed you like this. You pull yourself around and Renjun’s hands slither round your waist dragging you across the bed as you let him pull you down on your back, the kiss never once breaking away.

It’s been too long because you swore you neglected him to the point he didn’t give you a single break from the kiss. It was too long that it had your face feeling like you might melt like magma. Or until the point you’re seeing stars written on the ceiling. Renjun nibbles quietly on your bottom lip while finally he pulls to give you a fresh new look on his face as he saw your eyes closing to regain back your view. You were too close to nearly passing out from the lack of oxygen he stole from you.

But he pulls at the right minute to keep you asking for more. To keep you guessing for more. Renjun lowers himself down just above your chest as he kissed your cheek now beginning to ask you. “Baby do you think i have to stretch you out? It’s been too long since we did it.” He lets his eyes practically eat you alive when he’s watching your body like this. You let out a soft groan, his hands run down your spine and under your shirt ready to strip it away from your wonderful figure.

Renjun’s bad habit is definitely not being able to be patient enough for you. When he wants something he needs it immediately. You’re one of those things that Renjun cannot be patient for enough because he wants to experience it with you. And let you experience him as much as possible too. This might be the result of his feelings for you however, they’re far too intense you can barely stand in front of him.

You groan in reply. “Maybe stretch me out with your fingers.” Your hands slip off your lower pyjamas and Renjun took the host pleasure to position his finger around your straps to the panties and slid them down to your ankles. He smiles looking down at your pussy region as he strums his thumb on your clit before pushing in the index finger now. He saw you bite your bottom lip already and Renjun can feel how tight you are. He definitely needed to stretch you out. It felt too much already that you feel like consuming all of Renjun’s pleasure. Renjun didn’t stop until he at least give you one orgasm by his fingers. He never continues and puts you above himself too.

Even though he is very impatient he’s never impatient when it comes to putting you first above his own pleasure and needs.

You felt your eyes clench around the ceiling above as you’re feeling the pleasure reach to your own bones. It pulses you to leak and now your own high washed over you. Renjun was satisfied to hear you moaning his name and practically plead him to already take you. He whispers reaching with his face to kiss your own mouth again. “You did so well for me, baby.”

You’re so weak to him and his praise.

Your boyfriend slips himself inside your folds and your heat once he put on the condom wrapping around his shaft that pumps inside and outside of your velvety bars has him feeling like he was on cloud nine. Your expression was scrunching up as you reach enlightenment with your boyfriend thrusting inside and outside of you in such graceful ways. Renjun’s pelvis reaches your inner thighs as he grabs around your waist wrapping his arms on your back as he pulls you closer to the lavishing light he caused your body to feel. This feeling couldn’t be described in words just like how Renjun cannot describe such a perfect girl like you beneath him getting her hole fixed with his cock deep inside you looking so incredibly beautiful.

How can anyone compare to you? No one can.

Renjun vows you’re going to get him hooked more and more. Your folds squeezing and squelch which has his eyes roll and your boyfriend slips out a groan between your perky breasts as he licks round his tongue teasingly around the very top. “Do you feel good baby? Is this what you needed after a long day of work?” He spoke so kindly though his body wasn’t matching it. Your body was squished between his ruthless thrusts.

You neglected him for too long because you can feel this was almost like his way of releasing all the pent up frustrations.

You bury your head further into your pillow as your spine arches like a bridge. Renjun loves when you do this between his fast and jabbing thrusts. It feels like you were feeling everything tan times more intensely. Your lips fell apart like ice. “S-So good… oh please don’t stop.” You now plead.

You’re not sure why you’re pleading because your boyfriend wasn’t planning to stop anyways.

You must’ve been seeing stars when your many orgasms has been approaching. Perhaps you already came too many times you didn’t even realise it. It was so good that Renjun must’ve had your hole screaming at him to slow down but he couldn’t as he was taking everything in too fast with his brain.

Your hands clench in a balling fist and your toes curl when Renjun whispers to your ears. “You know this is your fault I’m acting like this.” Your eyes widen when he told you it’s your reasoning for all of this happening and you wanted to speak, but the many moans you swallowed came out.

He trails down the kisses from the forehead and down your temples. “You wanna know why? Because you’re my Bad Habit.”

Your neck was looking too good from the angle he was in pushing inside of you deeply where he knew you had limitless space. His hands sweep their way in holding and caressing your neck as he continues to thrust within your pussy that you find yourself getting addicted to how his cock was making you feel; utterly weak and high.

You are the very bad habit he has. Renjun cannot do anything without you anymore and it’s all because of you making it hard not to fall in love with you even more.

He blames you for this, he cannot get enough now. It was like a trap all along and Renjun was your fallen victim. You clench around his shaft as he said this. He reminds you how deep his love is for you and your eyes dilate when you feel his member twitch deeply within your folds.

Through the condom fabric you sense a filling packet now and you just knew he had a sudden climax when Renjun hung his head between your shoulders. He took a moment to final thrust within you and his voice was breaking like a broken tape on record player.

He grunts and you feel his hands tighten around the embrace has you inside as if you were his precious jewel.

“Fuck fuck fuck…” You heard your boyfriend say quietly as the voice was trembling by how good you consumed him all.

You feel Renjun letting out a deeply mournful sigh full of enchanting pleasure when he pulls out off you with the condom. You watch him wrap it up and he looks back at you finding your gaze to be watery and dilated pupils, it makes you look like a princess in his eyes though.

He could tell he did a good job pleasuring you and it makes him proud. And your beauty never leaves no matter what state you’re in.

You whisper. “I’m your bad habit?” You let out a little giggle though because you find yourself liking that you’re his bad habit in a way.

Renjun grins leaning down. “Mhm that you are.” You watch him hover above your figure now as you guys were resting now with your steady heartbeats returning to their normal pace. He looks down at your kissable lips and so he lowers down only a little to give it a peck. You hear him speak as he did this. “You’re all my Bad Habits.”

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this Fic and Follow me for more it helps a girl out. <3

[luveline]

this is kinda self indulgent but a few hours ago i was trying to fix some problems with my email and im not tech savvy so i was frustrated and at that point i just cried and gave up LMAO can we get that with a comforting remus☺️☺️ i totally get if you'll refuse this request but if ever you take the time to write this thank you so much🫶❤️❤️

modern au

“I don't know how to do it,” you say. You're walking that fine line between frustration and upset, paralysed, and when you talk the emotion in your voice is obvious. 

Remus perks up, which is to say he hears it and immediately comes to attention. “Do what, dove?” 

“I can't fix this email thing, I thought I fixed it, but it's still broken.” 

Remus is about as tech savvy as you are, which isn't very. He uses his laptop for Microsoft Word and Scrivener; he barely opens his emails. “I can have a look?” he offers anyways. 

Remus sits on the bench beside you at the kitchen table and pulls your laptop toward him. You have a hard time telling him the problem, all choked up with heat and wishing it would fix itself, “I probably messed it up myself but nothing comes up when I search for it and I just don't understand it.” 

He does a couple of the things that you'd already tried with no success. At your wits end, you stand up from the bench thinking you'll make yourself a drink, a burning lump in your throat as you grab a glass from the draining board and fill it with water. 

“I'm sorry, dove, I don't think I'm gonna do it. I'll ring Mary.” 

“It's okay.” You press your hand to your eyes. It's not okay, you're fed up and tired and you hate using the laptop. “Why is everything so difficult?” 

“Dove–” 

“I don't care, it can stay broken.” Unbidden, a furious tear races down your cheek. 

You glare at the glass of water in your hand and put it down in the sink. Remus makes his sound, that loving hum of sympathy as he stands to sidle up behind you. “It's alright,” he says, testing the waters with a hand on your shoulder.

You slouch at his touch and he takes it for the go ahead, wrapping his arms around you from the back, his chin pressed to the skin just shy of your eye. “Don't be upset, lovely,” he encourages, hands roving up and down the front of you gently. “We'll fix it. Just take a breath.” 

“I don't know why it won't work,” you say, trying to be more angry than upset. 

“I'm sure we'll figure it out. You've been on the laptop for hours, why don't we go sit down and watch the telly for a bit?” He takes one of your hands, holds it to your chest as he curves in around you. “Please don't wind yourself up. I'll get someone to fix it, okay? It's not the end of the world.” 

You know it isn't, but this is nice. You turn in his embrace for a proper chest-to-chest hug, wiping your tears dry in his shoulder. “You sound so sad when you sniffle,” he whispers, chuckling fondly as you do. 

“Sorry. I'm just annoyed.” 

“I know. It'll be fine, don't stress out about it.” His hands fan out over your shoulders, an encompassment physically that mirrors the warmth of his vocal comfort, the mild roughness of his voice and the care put into each word. 

He always cares about things, even when they're small in the grand scheme. “Thank you for trying to fix it,” you say into his shoulder. “I feel better knowing there wasn't an easy solution.” 

“Well, there might be. Or we're both idiots,” he jokes. 

You laugh wetly, hooking your chin over his shoulder. “Maybe.” You sigh, feeling much less heavy than you had. “At least we're idiots together.” 

[xuchiya]

"golden hour" || kim hongjoong || one-shot

| genre: non!idol ateez. fluff. slice of life | mentions: teasing. fainting. jewelry gift. | This is literally my high school delusions. My old school is literally an 'old school' school like no phones and computers, being in a relationship is not allowed, and big ass windows as our source of fans--- i mean we do have electric fans and ceiling fans but with the weather and a very old, close to dying, e-fans? We really have to depend on the wind from our windows. Anyways, this list is basically a true experience. My personal favorite? Song Mingi's.

It was the last subject of the day, and you were busy jotting down notes. One leg was folded beneath the other, lightly swinging in the air as your hand moved swiftly, keeping up with your professor’s dictation. Suddenly, the sharp sound of the bell echoed through the room, signaling the end of class.

The professor glanced at the time before closing their notebook. "For those participating in the festive dance, you may leave. The rest, stay behind to clean!" Your classmates erupted into chatter, some eager to rush to the computer shop, while others shrugged and left without a care. You rolled your eyes, your attention drawn to your friend, who approached with a smile—she was part of the festive dance.

“Hey, you know you can always skip. You look pale—”

You smiled faintly at her. “As much as I want to, I’m gonna save your butts from another earful from the professor.”

She sighed, placing a cold drink on your desk. “Please rest, okay?” You nodded in thanks as she waved goodbye and closed the door behind her.

You were seated by the window, alone since your seatmate had been absent due to a cold. As you packed away your things, you noticed the last few students leaving, their laughter and the distant sound of music drifting in from the auditorium. You sighed, your gaze lingering on the window. You always seemed to be the one left behind to clean up everyone else’s mess. Literally. Sure, you could skip it, but that would only bring scolding and deductions from your moral merits—a consequence you couldn’t afford. So, you chose to face it.

The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow across the room as a gentle breeze drifted in. You were tempted to head home, but the messy classroom held your attention. With a resigned sigh, you stood up and started cleaning. One by one, you flipped the chairs onto the desks. With thirty desks to handle, the task felt overwhelming.

By the tenth chair, you leaned your forehead against it, sighing in exhaustion. Sweat clung to your skin, your eyes burned with fatigue, and your entire body felt weak. You couldn’t understand why you were so drained, so easily worn out.

“Come on, just a few more,” you whispered to yourself. But "a few more" meant flipping eighteen more chairs and then sweeping and mopping the floor. Despite your exhaustion, you pushed through, focused on finishing the task. You didn’t notice when the backdoor quietly slid open, and a figure stepped inside, watching you with concern.

Hongjoong had returned to retrieve Seonghwa’s bag, as his best friend had been called in early and hadn’t been in class all day. He expected the room to be empty since it was well past dismissal, but he froze upon seeing you struggling to lift another chair. He tilted his head, watching you until you suddenly tripped over your own feet, the room spinning around you.

Before you could fall, Hongjoong moved quickly, catching your wrist and steadying you as you leaned against him.

“Whoa… take it easy. You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t slow down.”

You blinked, trying to shake off the dizziness. Your gaze landed on a silver nameplate, engraved with the name ‘김홍중.’ If you weren’t so exhausted, you might have panicked or made a fool of yourself. But you were too tired to fully grasp what was happening. Dark spots clouded your vision, and before you could react, your body went limp in Hongjoong’s arms.

His eyes widened in panic as you collapsed against him. “Y-Yah! Wake up, hey!” He gently tapped your cheek, but you didn’t respond. With growing urgency, he picked you up and kicked the door open, the force sending it slamming against the wall. He rushed toward the infirmary, his heart pounding.

Hongjoong flipped his phone open, the keychain of an old disc jiggling as he punched in the letters to send a quick message. When he arrived at the infirmary, the nurse informed him that you had been running a fever for three days, and the stress of upcoming exams had taken a toll on your health.

“I’ll be back, ma’am,” Hongjoong said, nodding at the nurse, who smiled sweetly at him. He hurried out of the campus and headed to a nearby convenience store, where he bought snacks, drinks, medicine, and a cool patch before returning to the infirmary.

When he arrived, the nurse was tidying up the now-empty bed. “She woke up and insisted on leaving,” she said with a small, apologetic smile. Hongjoong sighed, his nose flaring slightly, confused by the concern he felt for someone he barely knew. He knew who you were, but the two of you had never interacted before this.

“Please take care of her, Hongjoong-ssi!” the nurse called as he turned to leave. He considered just dropping off the bag and walking away, never mentioning the encounter again. But something pulled him toward you.

Was it because you were so persistent that you did not need help? Was it your way of saving people’s butt that you have to sacrifice something not even close to benefiting you?

Or was it the way the wind blew on your hair that it mesmerize him everytime he passed by your classroom? Or the way you look so innocent yet fierce underneath the golden hour of the day?

Just as he was lost in thought, you appeared at the doorway, one strap of your bag over your shoulder, running a hand through your hair. “Hongjoong-ssi? What are you doing here?” His breath caught in his throat as he gazed at you, bathed in the warm, golden glow of the sunset. You looked both delicate and fierce, and it left him speechless. He felt his heart race as his eyes lingered on your face, noticing every small detail—the patch of acne scars on your cheek, the natural curl of your eyelashes, the rosy flush of your cheeks from your recent illness.

You both stood in front of each other by the door, standing awkwardly as Hongjoong felt his entire body on fire.

 Your head was tilted to the side when you eyed his lips opening, the sound of confusion before he pushed the plastic bag to your chest and scrambled away to the other end of the hallway. You ‘oof’ in surprise, stumbling a little bit before your eyes flutter a few times; just comprehending what happened before your fingertips felt a cold and wet on the plastic bag.

You frown in confusion, taking the plastic bag in your hand then opening to see several snacks and drinks inside with another plastic inside. Your hand dive in to get the other container to realize that it is a cool patch and a sticky note attached to it.

‘The sun hides behind the clouds, not because it’s gonna rain but they rest too.’

You couldn’t help but smile, a small laugh escaping your lips. You glanced down the hallway where Hongjoong had disappeared before you quietly closed the door and walked away. The memory of passing out in his arms might have been embarrassing, but the thought of him taking care of you and buying you snacks made it worth it.

You walked away, a smile on your lips.

Around the corner, Hongjoong leaned against the wall, clutching his chest as he tried to calm his racing heart. His uniform crumpled in his grip, but a small smile tugged at his lips.

[foundtherightwords]

Fallen Empires - Teaser

So remember last week, when we got the confirmation that Joe plays Geta and not Caracalla, I was lamenting that all my work on this Caracalla WIP may have been for naught? Well, I figured out a way to make it work! It was always going to be canon divergent from the movie, and now I'll have to slap the alternate history tag on it as well, but... hey, at least I didn't have to throw away 30k+ words!

Anyway, here's a teaser/preview to celebrate the release of the trailer: (1k, mentions of blood and injuries)

Chapter 1

The smell of blood was in the air.

As he staggered over the rocky ground, he could smell it all around him, on him, in him, and there was no escaping it. The sharp metallic tang of it brought back unpleasant memories of battlefields, of death and screaming and decay. But this was no battlefield. It was quiet, far too quiet; there was none of the clashes of swords and armors, the panicked whinnying of horses, or the groans of dying men. The only sound was his own ragged breathing and the hammering of his pulse in his ears. There were stabbing pains on his back and between his ribs, and it hurt every time he drew a breath. There was a pounding somewhere on the back of his head—he must have hit it when he fell down the slope, though he no longer remembered where that slope was. He no longer remembered anything except for a burning feeling of anger and hatred, almost stronger than the pains of his body, though at whom or what that anger was directed, he didn't know. And underneath it all was a threat of fear. He had never been afraid of anything, he knew that much. Yet now the cold breath of Phobos was on the back of his neck, forcing him to get away, as far away as he could.

His head felt heavy and light at the same time. More than once, he stumbled over a rock and went down on his hands and knees. That was when he realized he was clutching a dagger in his hand, a dagger sticky with blood—his own or someone else's, he no longer remembered either. He pushed himself up by the handle of the dagger and continued on. His lungs burned, and his skin was icy cold despite the warm spring sunshine, and his limbs were so numb he was afraid the dagger might slip from his fingers. He must not let that happen. That dagger was important somehow. And he walked on, over the rocks and the uneven ground and the thick undergrowth.

He came across a stream, its banks overflowing from the winter rain. He still had the presence of mind to tuck the dagger into his belt before plunging in. The water was much deeper than he'd expected. His feet went out from under him. The pains in his back and his ribs melted into one scorching spear that went through him from chest to shoulder blades, and he had no strength left to fight the current. A branch of driftwood floated past. He held on to it, by instinct rather than a conscious desire to live. Doing so hurt his chest, but the water cooled his pounding head and washed away some of the searing pain and the blood, so the smell no longer assaulted his nostrils. He let the stream carry him away. So this is how it ends, he thought, feeling blood and life drain out of him. This little stream was to be his River Styx. Not for him the glorious death of the battlefield. Not for him the quiet, peaceful death after a lifetime of ruling and conquering. Not for him even the sudden, tragic death of a great man cut down in his prime. No, for him would be an ignominious death, befitting an ignominious life. Somehow he'd always known it. This was what the Fates had in store for him.

He never quite lost consciousness, though he didn't know how long he floated. At some point, the light shining through his eyelids lost its brightness, but he didn't know if it was because the sun was going down or he was dying.

Hands came down on his shoulders. It brought the pain back, and that was how he knew he was still alive. He'd stopped floating. Someone was hauling him up the bank of the stream, dragging him by the arms. So they'd found him, then. He was dropped unceremoniously onto the ground, where he lay motionless, waiting for the soft whisper of a sword being drawn from its sheath, for the final blow to end his misery, for eternal darkness to engulf him at last.

When it never came, he opened his eyes.

For a moment, he thought he really was dead, and he was facing Charon—a dark shape loomed over him, with fire for eyes and a hairy, oddly-shaped head. The words of the Aeneid, learned from his youth, came to his mind unbidden.

A sordid god: down from his hairy chin; A length of beard descends, uncombed, unclean; His eyes, like hollow furnaces on fire; A girdle, foul with grease, binds his obscene attire...

Now he knew he was dying. Since when did he start remembering poetry?

Something warm and moist brushed his face, a snort stirred his wet hair, and the illusion broke. It wasn't Charon that stood over him, but some sort of animal, perhaps a horse. The fiery eyes moved, and he realized they were a torch, held in the hand of a person—a real person, with a cowl covering the head, keeping the face in the shadow. Savior or executioner?

He twisted his head to avoid the horse's inquisitive nose. Even such a small movement hurt. A pair of small feet, clad in old leather sandals, stood beside him. A pair of slim ankles, brushed by the long hem of a dark gown. A woman's feet.

Gentle hands turned him over. He tried to focus. In the light of the torch, he found himself looking into a pair of green eyes, as green as the hills of Caledonia, as green as the forests of Germania, as green as the water of the Euphrates, eyes that soothed and calmed and took away his pains. 

And, as he looked into those eyes, Emperor Geta, the Imperator Caesar Publius Septimius Geta Augustus, uttered the one word he'd never said, never thought he would say, in all twenty-eight years of his life.

"Help."

Darkness took him then.

I'm still slowly working on this, but I'll wait until the movie comes out to tweak some of the characterizations and hopefully finish it by then. If you want to be tagged when I post it, let me know!

[sunny-mercya]

Grievance

Shikamaru Nara x Male Reader

Fandom -> Naruto

Masterlist

With all these dark clouds—so full, like soaked sponges or washed sheets, with gallons of water stored in them, already dripping with leaks and ready to be drained empty—clustering up the once clear blue sky with its formable bricks, Shikamaru wonders—more like a bet with himself—if it was either you or mother nature, which had released such heavy downpour of thundering rain.

Perhaps—Shikamaru thinks, going over his self placed bet and coming to a truce—it was the both of you, who caused such weeping havoc upon the realm above and brought it down onto the earth—sending the riverbanks into a flooding and causing more corp losses than necessary.

Puffing out another cloud of smoke—tobacco still tasting bitter and unpleasant, even after it being the third cigarette already—Shikamaru looks at its form, trying to make out a deeper meaning of it—a sense to life and the supposed way of Ninja, if there even is one.

Another loud rumble of thunder, followed by a unusual lightning and Shikamaru knew it's solely you who causes such chaos filled weather.

You still were grieving and Shikamaru could understand your pain as he too grieves the loss of Sensei Asuma—whose death Shikamaru (with Ino and Choji) had witnessed firsthand and heard his last few words of dying breath—but it had hit you the hardest.

After all, Sensei Asuma was your Uncle and the closest—besides the Oni Demons, Sensei Isamu and former (rest in peace) Hogake 3rd—of being family, a parental figure, than your actual family, to you—so with Asuma being gone now too, the last few remaining chains of stability—to hold your sanity together—were starting to break into crumblings and if these chains ever happen to snap, a monstrosity of destruction would come free.

Shikamaru doesn't know what to do—neither how to comfort you either—he doesn't feel sad anymore, not like before when he cried with the rain—because he doesn't want his friends to see such weakness—only a slight grievance with philosophical thoughts remains and yes, perhaps a slight twinge of sadness was indeed still bedded in his heart.

He know grief is important to feel and death belongs to the life of a Ninja, but Shikamaru—if being honest—doesn't want to, because if he really starts the process of grief properly—like you're doing right now, although you're definitely a bit way too emotional and Lady Tsunade might send you under heavy medical supervision if you keep going like this—because if he does, he would feel a sort of pain, way worse than a stab or chopped off limp, he never wants to experience.

Another released puff of cigarette smoke, the first drops of new upcoming rain—like baby teardrops—tapping gently on his face and one of Asumas last lines echoed in his thoughts—nagging at him like Ino had done an hour or so ago.

„You and [Name] are like two shogi pieces, meant to be together. I give you my blessing.“

Shikamaru sighed loudly, such a bothersome hassle—this whole human complex concept of emotions—he thinks—but extinguished his cigarette anyway, getting up from the roof he's laying on.

Time to crease the storm into a pitter patter.

~~~

Walking through the graveyard, you were easily to find—as you still haven't left the spot, even when the funeral ended hours ago, kneeling down in front of Asumas grave and weeping your soul out, the darkest clouds of rainy thunderstorms hung directly above you like a unlucky thread.

Shikamaru, when stopping behind you, looks up to Raikou—who stood with crossed arms, like a bodyguard, next to you—barely giving a glance of acknowledgment back, only nodding curtly at Shikamaru and ascending back into you.

»I think it has rained enough.« Shikamaru holds his umbrella above you as well, but you only shook your head as if to tell him otherwise.

»There can't be enough rain for Uncle Asuma. Heaven should weep as much as I do.«

»You're right. It never is enough, but for today it is.«

It had been a saying, which Shikamaru had heard Asuma often say to you—whenever you caused too much weather troubles or going stubbornly overboard with the training—and it seemed to work once more.

You turned your head, looking up to your boyfriend—the umbrella he holds, it's black colour, reminds you of the of vague face of death itself—and Shikamaru, upon seeing your tear soaked face with the aching hurt expression written on it, had to bite onto his lower lip—feeling a upcoming choking sob tingling in his throat—as it pains his heart as well (just like Asuma's death had and still does) to see you, his boyfriend and fiance—so broken, so emotional vulnerable and sadness filled—like this.

»Come on,« Shikamaru begins, bending down—discarding the umbrella—wrapping his arms around your midsection and pulling you up, holding you in his arms,

»let's go home. It had been a long day.«

~~~

Within the comfort of the bed and under the warmth blankets, Shikamaru's and your limps a tangled with one another—creating a proximity only lovers are able to do so.

While you two laid in bed, reminiscing in memories of Asuma—Shikamaru couldn't hold it off any longer, his own aching heart sank itself finally into the grievance and the first sobs escaped over his lips, followed by more till he too cried himself free of the painful sorrow.

And Shikamaru came upon the realisation of why grievances were so important to experience.

[dairy-farmer]

Jaytim where Jason gets cucked by.... *gasp* Willis Todd!?

Instead of dying he simply served a long sentence and was released shortly after his son's marriage. Of course he wants to reconnect!

One of my favourite headcanons is that Jason has a mommy kink, so it would fit well if Tim shared some traits and mannerisms with Catherine.

Anyways idk if Tim would ever willingly cheat with Willis, or if this is some dubious/non-consensual scenario, but it might end with patricide, a retraumatized Jason and Tim giving birth to at least one of Jason's siblings. Not neccessarily in that order.

yes yes yseby yes ye sye s YESRESS YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i LOVE this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

where willis was never killed he just got sentenced to serve a long sentence. when he gets out its been years, a lot of his old stomping grounds have been bulldozed, crime has been severely cracked down upon due to batman's presence. a lot of the simple "honest" work that willis used to be able to use to get by has been all but made oblique. plus he's behind. since getting locked behind bars the world has essentially left him behind. his wife who used to put money on his books had stopped, not because she'd met another man but because she'd gone and died.

when willis gets out he has nothing, no one. but the rule of his probation was that he needed a permanent address where the officer could roll by and check on him at any minute.

all of willis' old contacts, mainly women who he'd messed around with, had either changed their numbers, disappeared, or moved on from him.

willis' options are limited. he'd been born nothing into nothing but he'd still made use of what he had to crawl himself up. decent looks and enough charisma to power a steamboat had been his saving grace. it was what had landed him a nice loyal woman that always put up bail money and raised his bastard.

but willis wasn't so young anymore. that dark hair had faded to streaks of gray, his features had weathered due to age. he was still good looking but not young enough to get stupid little girls to offer him anything he wanted in exchange for a little attention.

but willis was lucky. the gotham prison system had under gone revisions in recent years and a database had been established to help recently released felons reconnect with family and friends to keep them off the streets and therefore away from re-offending.

it's how willis manages to find out his son was alive and not dead in a gutter or rotting in some prison upstate.

what a pleasant surprise!

the little shit had never deigned to visit willis and the address the secretary gives him is in one of the nicer parts of crime alley.

willis can't say he didn't resent the kid a bit. getting a baby dumped on him by a girl he fucked once or twice was a pain in the ass. moreso that when he brought the baby home to catherine she'd cried.

hurt and betrayed that willis had cheated on her.

willis would admit that beneath the hard exterior, part of him had felt a churn of something in his gut at making his cathy cry. she was different from the other women, from the girls he fucked and dumped. it was why he'd kept her around, married her.

she was genuine. sweet. she looked at willis with a look of concern his own mother had never given him. she worried about him, patched him up when he'd return bruised and cut up. she was the only one who ever believed willis would make something of himself, citing willis' head for numbers which had landed him pretty decent jobs as a number runner and accountant that had given them a comfortable life.

until the baby arrived. then all of a sudden willis' meager pay was going towards diapers and milk and all the million things babies needed.

willis would admit the kid had single-handedly ruined him and cathy by draining their finances. cathy had tried to assure him it was alright, that they'd figure things out. she'd even tried going down to the welfare office to get help paying for the kid.

but she'd been rejected. both their criminal records made it so they were on their own.

it meant willis had been made to start taking riskier jobs from shadier employers. cathy had to call up old contacts and start working as a courier again just so they could make ends meet.

so willis hated the kid.

oh he pretended he didn't. for cathy's sake. she'd grown attached and willis had lost the opportunity to suggest they dump the kid at the firehouse or an orphanage.

willis admitted he'd smacked the kid around a bit. mostly when he'd cry that cathy wasn't around.

when willis had gotten the rotten end of stick and landed himself nearly 20 years in prison on a trumped up charge it hadn't felt real.

he'd felt like he was in some sort of waking nightmare as his bumbling public defender fucked up his case.

20 years was a long time to spend behind bars. some of the guys willis got locked up with turned to religion, others tied their identities to the prison gangs and sank deeper into the tar pit of crime.

willis did what he could to maintain his sanity.

until the day of his release when he's handed back the clothes he was arrested in along with his belongings. a wallet with a wrinkled 5 dollar bill, a receipt from the bus, his old house key, and a notebook of addresses that'd landed him in lockup.

willis feels lost when the prison bus dumps him on some random street corner in gotham, a pamphlet of resources in hand, alongside about 12 other inmates.

unlike most of them, willis was literate enough to actually read what was printed and made his way to the listed office. the office which directed him to the home of his estranged son that he hadn't seen since the day he got thrown over the hood of a police car for entering the wrong damn building run by the wrong damn people.

willis may be old. he may have spent the last 20 years of his life in prison. his wife may be dead, his old apartment bulldozed to make room for some gentrified apartment building, and he may have nothing but the clothes on his back- but willis still had his mouth. and that opened a world of possibilities.

jason was taller, broader. he looked disturbingly like willis' father which meant he probably looked a lot like willis.

his hands were thick and calloused, scarred over from hard work as he stood in the doorway in a wife beater and low hanging sweatpants.

willis knew what it felt like to have no lost love for a father. so he just says what it would've taken him to open his door to his father if he'd somehow come back from the dead.

jason's home is cluttered, stacks of books and knickknacks littering shelves and low tables. it's full. but full in a way that willis can tell the home is well loved and occupied. there are paintings and posters on the wall along with pictures. little details are scattered throughout the home that tell willis his son does not live alone. and he's right when he spots the curious figure lingering at the entrance to the kitchen.

willis nearly feels his breath hitch at the sight of the other person. from a certain distance, from an angle...they almost looked like cathy. short dark hair, small figure, soft sloped hips, pretty pink lips, big wet doe-like eyes, long curled lashes...

looks like his son had gotten himself a nice little woman to keep him company in this cozy little house of his.

a clench of something warm and wanting swirled in willis' gut but he pushed it down. no. he could think more on that once he was comfortable and secured a bed.

jason was reluctant. he was recently married, had started some new job at a city planning office, and had just started settling down with his little wife that introduced himself as 'tim'.

saying the right words to squirm his way in comes natural to willis, no amount of time locked up could change that, and jason's little wife also helps.

just like cathy. having faith in a stranger's words, believing that people were better than they actually were.

jason doesn't give in too easily though. willis wouldn't have either.

but willis gets the spare bedroom in the apartment and jason warns him its temporary, just until he gets on his feet and so the parole officer doesn't get on his ass about it.

willis would admit it was nice to have the privacy of a room. a bed that wasn't more of a gym mat than mattress and running hot water whenever he wanted. jason rarely left the home those first few weeks, eyes always locked on willis when he'd come out of the room. more than once he'd dump a newspaper on willis' lap and tell him to start searching the classifieds, that plenty of people were willing to hire ex-cons.

apparently jason's little wife knew better than anyone since he worked for a charity helping underprivileged youths. it must have given him some divine need to help because he often helped willis fill out job applications after willis pretended to struggle reading the words printed on the newsprint.

the night after willis' perceived illiteracy some part of jason seemed to have lightened up. he and jason are washing up the dishes when jason quietly inquired.

"can you really not read?"

of course willis could. he wasn't some kind of fucking moron.

but it seemed to earn sympathy points from people. after all there was nothing more uncomfortable seeing a grown man struggle to read. it makes people not view someone as much of a threat.

its probably part of the reason why jason starts lightening up a little. starts making short trips out of the apartment to do errands while willis remained on his best behavior.

willis was good at maintaining the facade. he'd done it for 20 years in prison, pretending to be a browbeaten, meek, mouse of a man that stuttered so hard he nearly passed out when confronted.

it had been a different kind of humiliation to endure that for 20 long years. being used as entertainment by bigger fish who'd chortle and laugh as willis had to pretend to nearly piss in pants in fear just at being spoken to.

but he'd done it. so he could survive.

being demeaned and degraded day in and day out did something to a man''s brain.

it changed him biologically. made it so the minute he got something he wanted he did anything he could to keep it.

willis was still living under his son's roof, was still at the mercy of his benevolence. was still stuck in a little room without any real freedom.

his son might believe they were reconciling to an extent but jason was still a man in his own home and that meant he couldn't help but try to make willis prostrate.

willis listens to his son fuck his little wife from the next room with a throbbing cock in hand.

20 years was a long time to go without pussy. cathy was long gone but there had been no one who compared to her hot little cunt that had stretched so good around him.

willis pumped his cock listening to breathy moans and high pitched whines of jason rocking into his whore, imagining the stretch of little timmy's cunt over his cock, thinking of fucking him so hard that tender pussy would be bruised and red from the force of it all.

willis can feel his self control start to slip.

going in and taking his son's woman was highly risky and could land him out on the streets again.

but willis didn't know how many more nights he could take before his hand wasn't enough.

then willis reconnects with old acquaintances. ones who haven't changed at all.

no suspicion is drawn about him going out for a beer with old "friends". not that willis would ever consider any of the trash he surrounded himself with as anything more than 'associate'.

but they do have their uses. like one of the men who mainly dealt near the colleges and financial areas.

its not hard to score a few pills from him.

willis crushes them to a fine powder in his room using two heavy books until he had a baggy small enough to fit up his sleeve. from there it was a matter of waiting.

waiting for the next time jason would go out for a few hours.

the gods must be smiling down on willis because he catches a break.

a problem at one of the sites jason works at has had a problem and he'll be gone until the next morning fixing it.

willis doesn't act immediately even though every part of him wants to. he waits until it's lunch and prepares a glass of fruit juice for tim as usual, bringing it to him with every bit of forced casualness as he can.

tim is working and takes occasional sips of the juice and bites of a sandwich while willis hovers nearby, waiting.

eventually the pills kick in.

tim starts shifting. his head starts lolling side to side as tim massages the back of his neck. hands start scratching at the edges of his clothes and wiping away sudden sweat.

when tim stands up with a low call of 'bathroom' but then stumbles- that's when willis swoops in.

bootleg pollen was stupidly easy to obtain. it was untraceable in a tox screen, had a half life of 45 minutes, could be ingested orally, snorted, or absorbed through the skin, was borderline impossible to overdose on, increased body temperature, and made sex so much hotter.

willis had only heard whispers of it, mostly from men who were serving sentences for having used it and how they said it was fully worth it with wistful looks.

willis couldn't help but agree with them as he sank with ease into a dipping little pussy with a relieved gasp that ripped out of him. willis had to just sit there for a little, eyes closed and just feeling the vice of a hot cunt all around his cock. jason's woman let out a soft whine and little murmurs under him, his limbs lax and heavy as his head tilted one way and the other. his brows were furrowed and eyes closed as he softly squirmed, soft bottom inching away until willis reached down and pulled him closer, forcing more of his cock in until he was fully bottomed out. willis felt his pelvis be pressed flush to soft little baby cunt and how nice of jason's woman to keep himself so beautifully waxed.

willis started slow, grinding and grunting against the neck of jason's woman, trying to hold him back from going too fast for fear of cumming too quickly. but that thought left just as soon as it came and willis started furiously fucking the hole under him, insides desperate for release. willis had all day to take his time but for the moment he was going to make up for 20 years worth of fucking.

jason's woman was quite the champ. usually after a few rounds willis was getting pushed away by exhausted broads who'd whine about being too tired to keep going.

not cathy though. never his cathy, no she always let willis go for as long as he wanted until he was satiated. she'd wrap her arms around him and hold him to her while willis fucked her cunt full of load after load. even if she wouldn't be able to move in the morning, even if her cunt would be bruised to the heavens- she'd just press a kiss to willis's forehead and thank him.

god he fucking missed her. 20 years and he hadn't even known they'd buried her in some nameless fucking plot under a number instead of her name.

jason's woman looked so much like her. those pretty eyes, that soft hair, those full cheeks.

god his cathy hadn't aged a day.

willis snapped his hips into a whining cathy a little faster, letting her tilt her head back while he panted over her, nowhere near as young as he used to be.

willis pressed their faces together just like he used to when they'd spend all of saturday and sunday just fucking in their shoebox apartment. willis felt his breath grown heavier as he pumped his cock into cathy, her cunt letting out a wet thick noise everytime he tugged out.

"gnnn, cathy baby i missed you-" and he had, god willis had. he'd never had a good thing in his life but cathy oh fuck his cathy was the only worthwhile thing he'd ever had.

he's borderline lightheaded as his hips stutter, chest tightening and jaw clenching as he tightens his bruising grip on the hips of the hole under him until he's spilling and flooding hot cum into the welcoming womb below him.

willis isn't sure how long he lies there, fucking and cumming and filling a womb with his cum. it must be hours, maybe the whole the day. everytime jason's woman starts struggling a little harder, willis reaches under the couch for the baggy and dumps some over his face, pinching his nose so he has no choice but to swallow and then he's wet and loose all over again.

willis is so focused on it and lost in the sensations he doesn't hear the key in the front door turning. doesn't hear the boots and the steps. doesn't hear how they freeze, how they pause and then start moving rapidly in his direction faster and faster.

willis didn't know jason kept guns. he just assumed his son was too much of a pussy about them. but he was wrong. if he'd checked the closet beside the door or underneath the table by the kitchen he would've found the legally registered, fully loaded fire arm.

willis only sees it when he's ripped back and off tim, the glint of the metal the last thing he sees before jason empties the clip into his head.

willis is not present for the fallout, to see the way he has permanently re-traumatized his son.

his son who had believed his piece of shit father's words about reconciling, the piece of shit father he invited to his home, the piece of shit father he left with his wife, the piece of shit father he arrived home to find raping his wife.

jason is not alright. he's only ever been disappointed by father's his whole life- he should've known better. the moment his father refused to get revenge on his murder should've been the only sign he needed to know better. but jason was just determined to shoot himself in the foot everytime.

and now tim was paying the price for jason's stupidity as well.

jason is meticulous in cleaning the apartment. tim was already unconcious by the time jason arrived, pollen was scattered all beside his head.

so jason rests him on the couch and covers him with a sheet, careful to wipe between his legs to catch...emissions.

tim will awake from the pollen and remember nothing from it and maybe that will be a mercy. the only one to remember what happened will be jason whole cleaned his father's splattered brains off the wall. jason gathers what's left of the corpse and takes it out to an abandoned bridge overseeing one of the rivers in gotham that drains to the ocean.

he weighs each of his father's limbs down with a cinder block and pushes him off the railing. when his parole officer passes by jason will tell him he hadn't even known his father got out of prison.

jason cleans tim carefully, tenderly. he only has to hold himself over the toilet to dry heave once after he'd finished scraping his father's cum out of his wife.

in the morning tim wakes up in pain and delirious with a fever from the pollen.

jason tells him what happened and holds him while he cries but its hard to be traumatized over something you can't remember. its more the paranoia and the thoughts of wondering what happened that drive the depression.

weeks later the parole officer arrives looking for jason's father and it takes everything jason has to remain calm.

another few weeks and jason and tim decide they can't continue to live in their little apartment and they move. another few weeks and tim's period doesn't come and dread fills them both as they realize that it's unlikely that willis was able to get real pollen that it was likely bootleg pollen, the ones that had the effect of forcing people into ovulation.

they think about getting rid of it, they think about ignoring how they've been trying for a baby but have had no luck because jason was essentially a cadaver powered by kiddie pool magic.

they think of not going through with it.

but in the end they can't bring themselves to. they've wanted a baby so badly for so long. they can't do it.

its hard to come to terms with. they tell no one about willis, its easy because they'd told none of the family he'd been staying with them.

they assume jason is the father and he is. jason has been slowly training his mind to disregard the technicalities of genetics, to ignore how if bruce or anyone ever ran a scan on his and tim's baby they'd find he's closer to jason's half brother than son.

they ignore it. they celebrate tim's pregnancy and prepare with all the joy they were holding in for their baby.

and they're happy.

it takes awhile but they are.

their baby is born pink and screaming with a thick head of hair and the most gorgeous little eyes. she has the same little dimple as jason does when she smiles and dick coos over it when he comes to visit them.

"oh she looks so much like her daddy!"

the words only cause the slightest of aches but it fades when jason hears his daughter giggle.

they were good. they were happy.

at the very least willis had been good for one thing in his miserable life.

tim heard him say that and gave him a small, soft look before leaning up to kiss him.

two things, tim would whisper before bending down to give their baby another kiss.

jason pretended like the words didn't choke him up and rested his head on tim's, holding him close while they listened to their sleeping baby take soft, slow breaths.

[aettuddae]

hole in one — chapter 76.

⌕ synopsis: at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, where everyone is battling to be the center of attention, yu jimin is just a regular. people want her because of her beauty, but all she cares about is sharing her freaky stuff with her friends and passing her subjects. although there's one thing that might push her out of her comfort zone, revenge. when nakamura kazuha, one of the richest and most well-known students of NCU, starts to spread gossip about her for thousands of followers to see, jimin decides to get back by taking away the thing kazuha cares about the most: her perfect girlfriend, the young golf star, kwon haru.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

kazuha had been looking for haru for a few minutes, but she was nowhere to be found. she looked outside, the rain was pouring down unrelentingly, even under the roofs that surrounded a small portion of the events hall, the water could reach you.

she contemplated it for a moment, could haru be out in the rain? she had been acting erratic for some time anyway.

she made her way to one of the glass doors leading outside, looked both ways, and at last came upon the figure of the girl, who was leaning against one of the brick walls, watching the drops fall. the water was coming through the short wooden ceilings and falling on what little sidewalk one could take shelter on, which was why the girl had wet hair, some of her clothes moist, and her shoes completely soaked. between her fingers, a lit cigarette rested elegantly, which at times traveled to her mouth and left smoke there.

haru hadn't touched a cigarette in years.

"haru!" kazuha called in annoyance, approaching with quick steps. "what are you doing? throw that away." she pointed to the white stick on the older woman's lips.

she only responded by breathing in deeply, taking the nicotine into her body, as she watched her partner with vacant eyes, lost.

"baby..." the chestnut dropped her head in reluctance. "why are you smoking? you haven't smoked since you started your degree." she reached out, placing her hand on the other's wrist, holding it delicately.

"i'm feeling a lot of stress," haru's bored expression suddenly dropped, replaced by a sad, worried frown. she pulled her arm away from her girlfriend. "a lot of anger." she slurred her words due to the high levels of alcohol in her blood. "i'm incredibly draining to be around." she flicked the cigarette to the ground in annoyance, taking advantage of a silence between the two to reach over to stomp on it and put it out.

"love, you're just having a bad time." she rubbed her own face with her hands in frustration. "you don't need to smoke again, less so close to the championship."

the younger girl approached her partner, who was thinking looking out at the field being torrentially sprayed. she slid her hands around the girl's waist, bringing them back together on her front, hugging her. rested her head on her shoulder, and given the closeness, couldn't resist leaving a chaste kiss on her neck.

"yes, i'm going through a bad time." agreed her, her voice almost a whisper. "and i think it's not something i should be putting you through." the words seemed to struggle to break free from her throat, they were almost impossible to hear.

kazuha's grip was undone in an instant, her limbs untied from her girlfriend's body and she took a few steps in reverse away from her back. the lack of things to say, or the inability to let them out, took over the atmosphere again. the japanese woman shifted, heading back inside.

"come on, i don't know what you're doing in the rain. you're wet from head to toe." she ordered with a dry attitude.

"didn't you hear me?" she turned her body abruptly towards the other, desperation taking over her. "or didn't you want to listen to me?"

"yes, haru, i heard you. but i don't know what you're talking about."

"i'm saying maybe we should take some time, zuha."

both pairs of eyes met and held each other. the older ones denoted chaos, catharsis, pain, the younger ones were dull, there was nothing inside.

"i'm not well, and i'm hurting you, i can see i'm hurting you, love." she proceeded. "i was thinking maybe taking some time away from each other would be good. we could think about what we want from this relationship, or from each other."

"what is 'taking some time off'?" attacked kazuha, anger making a way in herself. "what are your intentions? do you plan to leave me for a few months until you decide whether you can discard me or not?"

"kazuha, no." she put her hands on her partner's shoulders, but this one slapped them, pushing them away. "kazuha, you are not an object i can discard. if i'm asking you for some time, it's because i genuinely feel we're hurting each other, and i want to avoid that." she explained, nervously. "a break doesn't have to be a bad thing, okay? it's just that we can't think clearly if we don't get some distance."

"what are you guys doing out here in the rain?" eunseo's voice came from behind, interrupting the discussion.

a haru on the verge of collapse, drowning in guilt and sadness, and a kazuha burning with fury turned their heads in the direction of the newcomer. next to eunseo stood giselle, karina and seungkwan.

the gaze of the least experienced of the golfers fell on the friend haru had recently made. from behind, the oldest could still notice how the tissues covering her jaw were tightening from how hard she was clenching her teeth. up and down, the brunette analyzed jimin, saying nothing, but creating a dense tension in the air.

"is it because of her that you want to leave me?" she spat out her words as if they were laced with venom, her eyes resting on karina with such intensity that it seemed like she would set her on fire.

"what? no, zuha this is betw-KAZUHA!"

kwon's sentence had been cut off by her girlfriend running towards the one who, according to her, was the cause of all her problems.

jimin tried to step back, but kazuha was quicker and, when she was close enough to have her within arm's reach, grabbed her by her clothes, holding her in place, then moved sharply until she had her fingers completely tangled in the girl's hair and began tugging at it.

the attacked girl tried to push her away while screaming at her to stop, using her palms to press her chest trying to get space and her nails to scratch her, hoping that the pain would bring her to let go.

but kazuha was a professional athlete, and karina only knew how to fight in her favorite videogames.

her friends were doing their best to help her. meanwhile aeri was screaming at her in horror, juyeon and seungkwan got in between the two, helping jimin push her off, but the crowd of people only made it easier for the sportsplayer to knock the gamer down, then position herself on top of her and continue to cause damage to her.

"it's your fault!" shouted the instigator euphorically.

"she had nothing to do with it!" haru tried to calm her down with her words while tugging her body to separate her from jimin, although this last part was really difficult for a person as drunk as she was at that moment.

"you stole my haru away from me!" she cried out as with one hand she kept forcing the girl's hair, and with the other, she was doing her best to hurt her in other parts of her body.

"kazuha!" kwon called again unbridled, and after that helpless cry, she finally managed to gather enough strength to pull her girlfriend's waist and lift her into her arms, managing to detach her from the other girl.

"enough! enough! calm the fuck down!" perhaps as a result of the mixture between the alcohol and the rage she felt, haru shouted at kazuha with such anger that it seemed as if her throat might tear. "can't you see it!? it has nothing to do with jimin, it's because of this kind of thing!" she explained without being able to calm down. "how does it even cross your mind to attack someone physically, kazuha? you do something like that and you still think there's some reason external to you why i want to leave you?"

"what happened here!?" an elderly man came to where they were. it was the owner of the club.

the couple watched as karina walked away, until she disappeared from the room, leaving them alone.

"remember what i said about taking some time?" the older one resumed.

the office was dark, despite having the light on. kazuha didn't dare say anything, afraid to act in reality and have the world go on, as if by staying still and quiet maybe she could keep herself in pause and stop haru from doing what she was about to do.

"i think we should take it up a level." the girl sentenced, the alcohol partially gone, eyes on the ground, discouraged, with a sour tone. she said it with disappointment.

haru didn't want that to happen either, but inevitably, kazuha brought her to that point.

"are you going to leave me for this?" the brunette moved her head, which was leaning against the wall, just like her partner's, so she could look at her.

"for this?" kwon abruptly straightened up on the small couch they were on. "you minimize it like that?"

"i don't think it's serious enough to leave me." she spoke dejectedly.

"kazuha." she stood up. "it's not just this." she shook her head, annoyed. "you talked shit on the internet about someone you didn't know just because she spilled her drink on you." she raised her hand, so that she could show it to the girl, and held two of her fingers with her opposite hand, meaning 'second'. "you said horrible things to her in front of the whole club just because you got jealous that she was standing next to me."

"haru, stop it..."

"third!" she exclaimed angrily. "you got her expelled from the university and you got an innocent teacher fired, all because of that same fit of jealousy." her breathing was too hitched. "then fourth, is this!" she pointed at the girl, accusing her.

still sitting, kazuha had begun to cry, her gaze to the side because she couldn't look at the older in the face at the moment.

"how can you think there's any other reason why i would doubt our relationship other than yourself?

"how can i not think it is because of that girl if you chase after her and defend her as if you were her dog?" exclaimed the defendant, rising suddenly.

"are you talking about the girl whom you, my girlfriend, just beat up?" she asked ironically. "i defend and chase jimin because you make her life miserable and i've had to sort it out for you over and over again." she recalled. "ever since jimin showed up, you've shown me your true self, zuha. the expulsion should have been enough for me, but i let you go to this extreme."

"if only you'd let her walk away from your life, if she'd leave you alone..." she pleaded, tears running down her cheeks with the same intensity as the storm was falling outside.

"she doesn't have to stay away from me because she never did anything wrong." she clarified, her countenance serious, sure of what she was saying. "karina has done nothing but spill her drink on your dress and be my friend."

"she's pushed you away from me!"

"you have pushed me away from you!" haru exploded from helplessness, finally bursting into tears. "zuha, you have to understand that no one has pulled me away, no other than yourself."

the crying didn't let kazuha say anything more, she could only find the strength in her to raise her hands and cover her face. haru, also with eyes flooded with pain, moved closer until she could wrap her arms around her and hold her close, so she could leave a simple, but long kiss on the top of her head.

"please, don't think this doesn't hurt for me." haru expressed, her voice completely broken. "i feel like i'm ripping a part of my soul out of myself."

the younger girl moved her hands and slid them down her now ex-partner's body, until she hugged her waist tightly. she sank her face into her neck, unable to stop the anguish that was choking her.

"some people just don't go together." continued kwon. "and i love you infinitely," she swallowed hard to try to erase the pain she felt in her throat. "but i don't like you anymore."

no other words were spoken, they were no longer needed. there was no speech, prayer or rambling that could mend that moment. haru and kazuha were no more, and perhaps would never be again. they could only hold each other one last time, try to seek comfort and refuge in those arms that had provided it for them for so long, before they could no longer return to that place. they embraced for one last moment the other half of their souls before losing it.

eventually, haru's friends went to pick her up to leave the event together. it was the first time haru would return home from the anniversary dinner without kazuha by her side. she offered to walk her to the hall with the others, but she said she would rather stay in that office for a while longer. "go home safely" was the last thing she said to her before leaving.

(!)

— taglist: @runawaymazola @chaenniefirst @livelaughchoerry @rinapomu @jeindall777 @petruchiosstuff @winieter @sewiouslyz @minjeongswife

[bomberqueen17]

cellulitis adventures

So on Friday I was cleaning in the barn, hosing rotting meat out of a floor drain. I tripped over the hose, and fell on the hand holding the hose sprayer, in a pile of moldy rat shit I'd tried to clean earlier but hadn't done a great job on. The hose sprayer scraped my thumb, opening up a little cut and tearing the skin, which was annoying and hurt a lot.

Naturally I was like, listen I need to clean this really well, so I did. But I was busy, so I washed it really well and then didn't bandage it, because I had a lot more grubby shit to work on and a bandage would just get soggy. I cleaned it again when I was done, but still forgot to bandage it. it was not a serious cut, it was more of a scrape, and it hadn't really bled much, it was mostly just sort of scabbed over. Not a big deal.

Drove home to Buffalo on Saturday, and noticed it was a little sore, maybe a bit puffy. Ah, not great. I cleaned it again, put neosporin on it this time. Went to bed. In the morning I reapplied antibiotic gel and put a band-aid on it, and went off to work, off to Dude's aunt's house where his mother is clearing it out. (Aunt had to go into a long-term-care apartment downstate near her daughter, after a stroke left her with poor working memory, and nobody's happy about this but the house needs to be gone through and her sister is the one to do it. And we are the ones to help her; her children live a few hundred to a thousand miles away, and wouldn't know what to do with the things in Latvian anyway.)

Anyway. Finished with that, took a nap, ran some errands. My thumb was a bit achy under that band-aid, but I was busy. It wasn't until I was making dinner and noticed a red line on my wrist that I realized I ought to give this more attention.

I finished making dinner, sat down, took off my watch to look at the red line a bit better. Now, I have really pale skin, and it shows red marks from everything; I expected it was red from steam from the cooking. But no, the line curved and went unaltered under where the band of my watch had been, and out the other side. It was under my skin, not the surface of it.

So I took a picture of it and sent it to an online buddy who is a nurse, who said immediately to go to urgent care, not to wait and see if it cleared up overnight because it was not going to. And now that I've come out the other side of this with some antibiotics, I thought I would write a little post and tell y'all what to worry about, because it was no big deal in my case but if I had waited it might well have been. So behind the cut will be a very non-gory photograph, which possibly will look more dramatic than it would on your skin because I have so little pigment in mine. But mine was a very clear textbook case, so I figure it's a good example. Again though, no gore, so I do encourage you to look even if you're squeamish, because it's really good to get an idea in your mind about danger.

For the record, urgent care turned me away so I went to the ER and while I waited a long time, the staff, rushed off their feet and far too busy, was still kind and reassured me I had done exactly the correct thing in coming in. This is the kind of thing it's trivial to fix up with a routine course of oral antibiotics if you catch it, but if it goes too long it can get into all kinds of bodily systems and become very difficult to safely eradicate, and can cause lasting, even permanent complications.

So I thought, for other dumbasses like me who would ignore a throbbing cut, here is a little PSA about Shit To Definitely Not Ignore, and thanks times several million to my online nurse buddy who told me so.

Behind the cut, a photo that does not include the actual injury or any gore or disfigurement, but very clearly shows the telltale sign, which is redness from inflammation from the infection traveling through the lymphatic system, and is like, a prime time danger sign and if you see this seek care and do not delay. I haven't been able to find good pictures of what this looks like on darker skin, alas, but here it is on me.

[Image description: the right forearm and hand of a pale-skinned person, lying on the edge of a table with the fingers loosely closed, thumb upward. The thumb goes off the top of the frame, and a bandage is just visible circling it. A red line wavers from the side of the thumb down along the back of the heel of the hand, curves down along the inner edge of the wrist, and then curves down to the underside of the arm. Several blue veins are also dimly visible through the skin, not following quite the same path as the red line, which is wider and blurrier than they are. The red line is quite blurry and hard to see in some places, clearer and more distinct in others, and in one place clearly but briefly splits to follow two channels before reuniting into one. There's also a faint dent visible in the skin at the side of the wrist, where the buckle of a watch was; the red line is not otherwise interrupted by where the skin had been covered by the watch.]

Again, the injury itself was a little gnarly but not anything I would have sought treatment for on its own; it was a bit sore to bend my thumb, it was getting a bit red and swollen but I had it under a bandage and wasn't monitoring it. The red streak was what made me look, and it's good I did. For the record, i don't know if this is typical, but pressing down at the point right on the side of my wrist where that red streak was widest was tender, like pressing a bruise, and isn't this morning; that was what really convinced me this was something from the inside and not a weird mark left by touching something from the outside. I don't know if that would be universal, and it wasn't tender along the whole length of it, but right there it's going over bone so I could really feel it. It's not raised at all, not a rash, it felt like bruising deep under the skin but if you pull your finger across it didn't fade or change color or have any kind of texture to it at all. This morning it's not tender anymore either, though the injury itself is a bit more painful than it was.

They gave me a dose of antibiotics last night around 10pm, and the streaking has faded, but the injury itself is more angry and swollen and is affecting my grip strength with that hand. I plan to follow the course of antibiotics, of course, and am grateful for modern medicine, which makes this mostly just an amusing anecdote. Who knew scraping your hand in a barn full of rat shit was dangerous! (Well, I did.)

Anyway-- off to see about filling this prescription. I gotta take it four times a day but like, y'know, I can handle that in exchange for not having sepsis, LOL.

[harlowsbby]

My Everything?

“I only keep her around because she’s beneficial.” Jack chuckled and took a sip of his drink before placing it back down.

“Beneficial how?” Ace asked.

“I mean she cooks and cleans and when I’m craving you know what she’s always right there to give me some.” He chuckled and you heard the sound of hands smacking which meant he gave one the guys a high-five.

“That’s kinda messed up don’t you think? I mean come on Y/N really loves you and you’re out here just basically saying you’re keeping her around for your own needs, isn’t that a bit selfish?” Urban defended you which you were grateful for.

“If you put it that way I mean yeah it’s a bit selfish but I’m planning on breaking up with her before tour starts anyways.” Urban shook his head at Jack.

“What Urban? You can’t say shit.”

“I’m not even saying anything Jack.” Urban was disappointed in Jack. “She just isn’t fulfilling my needs anymore and I’m a guy with many, many needs.” He chuckled.

Unbeknownst to Jack and the guys you were standing outside the door after coming home from shopping with your friend Avery & Ace. It honestly wasn’t your intentions to stop what you were doing and ease drop on their conversation but when you heard your name being brought up you figured it was best to stop and listen right?

You swore you heart felt as if it was going to rip out of your chest any minute now especially as Jack kept talking about you and how he’d be on tour sleeping and seeing many other women that weren’t you.

To say you were feeling disappointed was an understatement. Your head spun as you tried your best to make your way out the front door. You mentally cursed yourself as your vision started to blur due to your tears and the lump that has now formed in your throat wasn’t helping either.

If Jack was planning on breaking up with you before he left for tour you figured you’d spare him the trouble and do it for him. When you finally managed to make it outside you took out your phone and texted him.

Jack 💘

- I overheard you talking to the guys. I’m sorry I couldn’t fulfill your needs within this relationship, I hope you’re able to find better.

Xo, Y/N

With that you went ahead and blocked and removed him from your messages and any other social media site you had him on. You weren’t sure what was going to happen now but you could only pray that better days were ahead.

————————————————————————

It’s been about 3 weeks since you last seen Jack and honestly it’s been the hardest 3 weeks ever even though he spoke wrongly of you, you still missed him and loved him. At times you wondered if he was thinking about you.

You went back home to Atlanta to bury yourself in work you needed to do something to distract your mind from Jack but all work and no play was draining. Which is why your friend Avery suggested you all go to the club later on that night.

“And you’re not wearing jeans you’re wearing something short like your ex said, I wanna see some ass.” You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at Avery.

“I’m not going to a club Avery the only thing at a club is a bunch of desperate guys that just wanna get laid for the night and I’m not that desperate for a good time.” Ace snorted. “You might not be but I most definitely am.” He said.

“Look I just don’t think I’m ready to go out I’m still healing.” You expressed to them you knew they meant well but you felt like it was too soon. Ace frowned and came over to you and rested his hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N, look that man didn’t deserve you he never did and never will he said out his own mouth that he only kept you around because you were beneficial to him when needed, because I’m sure he isn’t sitting around moping for you.” Ace was very brutally honest at times but his speech is exactly what you needed to hear.

“You’re right.” You smiled and took the outfit Avery bought. “It’s time I get dressed up and remember who I am.” Ace and Avery high- fived one another.

“It’s about damn time now come on let’s get ready.” For the first time in awhile you were actually enjoying yourself and you weren’t thinking about Jack but Jack on the other hand was certainly thinking about you.

“I feel fucking horrible she hates me I know it.” Urban rolled his eyes. “Weren’t you the one that said you were going to break up with her anyways? So why are you even worried.” The sarcasm evident in his tone.

“Yeah I did but I didn’t mean it I just I don’t know I fucked up alright.” He ran his hands through his curls. “How about we just go to the club that opened up? I think it’s called Peaches & Creme.” Druski said.

“The last place I wanna be seen at is a club I just want my girl back.” Jack confessed, Urban couldn’t hold in his anger anymore he hated that Jack was actually upset over you leaving him.

“I don’t get it why are you upset? Are you upset because she’s no longer in your life? That she’s no longer available?” Jack was taken back by the anger in Urban’s tone.

“She was my everything Urban.” Urban scoffed. “Your everything?” He stood up. “She wasn’t your everything till she was no longer around and now that she’s gone suddenly she’s your everything?”

Druski stood between the two of them looking left to right while munching on some popcorn.

“Now this shit is interesting.” He said and Clay rolled his eyes before stepping in.

“Look let’s just drop it alright? I came back home for us to have a good time now let’s get ready for tonight.” Urban shook his head. “I’m not going but I hope you all have a good time.” Urban walked past Jack but not before bumping shoulders with him.

Jack sighed and starred at the spot that Urban was once in he knew Urban was right but he was going to prove him wrong, Jack was going to get you back tonight at the club, he seen on Avery’s story that she was going to the club tonight and he prayed that you’d be there as well.

————————————————————————

You were never really one for clubs so when you finally got inside the club you were a bit taken back by how many people managed to fit inside the club, outside it looked very large but in reality it was very, very small.

“Where are we sitting? I’m not standing here all day!” You yelled over the music meanwhile Ace was off with who knows who and Avery well her attention was drawn on some man.

“Uh I don’t know I didn’t really reserve a booth they wanted like 10k for a booth so I said fuck that I’ll just stand all day.” You groaned. “Are you kidding me? I’m supposed to be squished between a bunch of sweaty bodies all night?!?”

Avery raised her hands in defense. “Look just have fun and enjoy yourself now if you don’t mind ima go have a little chat with my friend over here.”

“You’re kidding me.” You watched as Avery made her way over towards her next victim leaving you alone in the middle of the floor. “I gotta get out of here.” You pushed past the sweaty bodies till you finally managed to make it to the bar.

“If you’re gonna sit here you need to order a drink.” The very much irritated bartender said. “What? How much is a drink.” He handed you a menu and your eyes widened at the prices. “$25 for a drink? You’re kidding?”

He looked at you with a straight face. “Well it’s July 1st not April 1st so I’m very much not kidding it’s either you order or get away from my bar.” You mumbled a few not so friendly words under your breath but still ordered a drink.

You sat at the bar watching as Ace flirted with a few men and watched Avery well ruin her chance with a man you smiled softly and shook your head at her as she shrugged her shoulders at you.

“You need to go mingle or something shit stop sitting up here pouting like a baby.” Druski told Jack. “You’re messing up my vibe I need to attract the ladies.”

“I just miss Y/N.” He whined. “Well you need to find a replacement.” Clay scanned the club and noticed a women at the bar. “Look you see her at the bar she’s alone which mean she probably doesn’t have a man now go mingle.” Clay pushed Jack over to the direction that you sat.

If flirting with some random women at the bar was going to help Jack get over you then so be it.

“Here alone?” You froze hearing that familiar Kentucky accent. “Jack?” He immediately froze.

“Y/N? What are you doing here.” He asked. “I’m here with Avery why are you here? Don’t you have a tour to get ready for.” You stated blankly. “Or another women to get ready for.” You mumbled.

“Look I’m so sorry Y/N I didn’t mean anything I said.” He tried apologizing. “Are you? Or do you only want me back because I can clean and cook for you and be available when it’s convenient for you.” You spat back at him.

Jack knew you weren’t going to forgive him easily but without you being around he realized just how much he missed you and loved you. He grabbed your face and forced you to look at him you made eye contact with him for the first time in awhile.

You forgot how memorizing his eyes were and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss his freckled nose.l

“Please baby I’m not asking you to take me back just yet but can you please forgive me so I can show you that I am sorry.”

What he said hurt you the other night but you did miss him and you were open to giving him another chance but this would be his only chance.

“Fine I forgive you and I’m willing to give you another chance but God so help me if you mess this up or I hear you talking about me I’m shredding your Pokémon cards.” You laughed while his eyes widened.

“Please baby anything but my Pokémon cards you know all of those are collectables.” You shook your head at him.

“You’re something else Jack.” He laughed.

“That’s very much true but you know you love me.” He grinned and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “That I do.”

Requested by @harlowcomehome

[n3wstxd]

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊/𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍

warnings: psychological torment, non-consensual biting (at first), slight blood kink, begging, anal fingering, rimming, anal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, graveyard sex, sex on top of a literal grave but it’s okay cus it’s Kirk’s

Happy Halloween! I tried my hand at writing about (Jason) being scared, and there are first times for everything :)) anyways enjoy! (What I mean by crypt btw)

word count: 7.4K words (you were warned)

nsfw under the cut :)

Halloween. Kirk’s favourite holiday, where he could go out and mingle at parties without having to obscure his vampirism. He was starving, aching for fresh meat to sink his fangs into. The party he attended this year was wonderful—so many lovely choices of men and women, all dressed to the nines.

He scans the room, red eyes settling on the forms of Lars and James, dressed as a mummy and a shitty werewolf respectively. His friends spot him too and beckon him over. 

“Settling on the vampire look again?” Teases Lars.

Kirk rolls his eyes, adjusting his hair to stay out of his face. 

“And you’re a goddamn Mummy,” he retorts, shaking his head. “You two look like shitty actors from one cheap horror movie.”

Lars laughs and pats Kirk’s shoulder.

“At least we try something new,” he says cheerfully. “You wear the same thing every year and you’re only in disguise because you don’t want people to know you’re a blood-sucking monster.”

“And your costume is what exactly?” Kirk shoots back, not amused. “You look like a dollar-store bandage come to life. Not very scary.”

James snickered and leaned against the wall.

“You both look ridiculous, alright? But it’s a good night for hunting,” he says with a grin, a sly look on his face. “A lot of people here look very…tasty.”

Kirk smirks and looks around the gathering, taking note of some of the more delectable candidates. His gaze lands on a beautiful young man, standing by himself and looking rather lost. 

“Yeah…I guess there are a few options,” he muses, licking his lips absently. “I might go over and introduce myself to the pretty one over there.” James whines. “I was gonna go for him.”

Kirk snorts and shakes his head.

“You? You wouldn’t know what to do with him. He looks like the kind of man who’s sweet, polite, innocent. You’d scare him away with one dumb sentence, you big brute.”

James laughs at that. “And you’re going to be the charming prince swooping in to save the poor, innocent damsel?” Kirk rolls his eyes and grins arrogantly. “Of course. I’m far too charismatic to drive him away. I’ll charm the pants right off him.”

James snickers and pats his shoulder. “Well, alright. He’s all yours then. Try not to drain him fully when you finally sink your fangs into his pretty neck.” 

Kirk rolls his eyes and straightens his getup, adjusting the velvet cape around his shoulders so it drapes well down his back. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be back in a bit. Or not.”

Kirk eyes the man—dressed as an angel, a reflection of the characteristic innocence of the holy beings in those baby blue eyes. He can’t hold himself back—he has to have him. 

As he approaches, it’s like the angel senses his presence immediately, those stunning blues locking with his dark ruby eyes. A faint blush rises on the angel’s cheeks, lips curving faintly into a shy smile. 

Kirk can’t help but notice how he’s almost trembling faintly in his pristine white outfit. He’s like a porcelain doll, so delicate, so sweet, so innocent.

Perfect prey.

His figure is sleek and lean, akin to a dancer, and he moves with a certain grace that has the vampire captivated. He’s only slightly taller than Kirk, and he’s got tufts of auburn curls messily resting on his shoulders, flowing down his back. Kinky bangs frame his captivating eyes, and the fake halo that sits amongst his curls is a shiny white. 

He’s like walking, talking temptation, and Kirk can’t stop staring. He’s so damn beautiful, his scent so very appetizing. He feels the hunger in his chest burning, but he controls it and smiles charmingly instead. 

“Hi there,” he greets the boy, his eyes wandering over the tight, silk material of his white robe, two small slits on either side of his legs for more leeway. His top is more snug, a sleeveless silk top with a banded collar and some little gold accessories to match.

The whole costume looks expensive, or took a lot of time to make at the very least. “Hi.” The man responds, friendliness clear through his toothy grin, a beer in hand.

Kirk can’t help but stare for a beat longer, taking in the pretty smile, the beautiful gleam of those eyes…and the delicate, elegant long lines of his neck. 

So slender, so inviting. 

Almost as if sensing the thought, the angel tucks his chin down, hiding his neck ever so slightly, as though shy. It’s an utterly charming gesture that only serves to fan the flames of Kirk’s desire. He swallows, snapping himself out of his thoughts and grins. 

“So, enjoying the party?”

“It’s nice…though I’m looking for my friend. He’s supposed to be here.”Kirk tilts his head to one side. “Is that so?” He asks, feigning mild interest. 

“What’s his costume?”

“He’s a ghost.”

“A ghost, huh?” 

Kirk’s eyes twinkle a bit with a hint of mischief. “And where exactly is this friend of yours? Off haunting the punch table or something?”

“Beats me.” 

The man’s phone dings, and Kirk can’t help but watch how his bangs frame his face when he cants his head. 

“Oh. My friend couldn’t make it. Great, now I’m stuck here alone.” He sounds less than thrilled, probably after having to go to such lengths to make his costume. 

“What a waste of a night.”

When the beautiful creature pouts, Kirk’s mouth dries up instantly. Christ, he’s adorable. “Hey, there’s no need to look so disappointed…” He says with a coy tone of voice, taking a few steps closer to the angel. 

“I could take you out somewhere else…” He offers tentatively. Jason’s interest piques, and he tilts his head to the side. “Like where?”

Kirk grins and takes one more step, their chests almost flush together. “The night is still young,” he purrs. “There’s so many more exciting places to go to before closing time…unless you’d rather stay at this boring party, of course.”

Jason thinks for a moment, considering his options. And his cerulean eyes lock with crimson ones, his resolve determined. 

“Where to?”

Kirk can’t help the shiver of excitement that runs down his spine. He grins, fangs gleaming in the faint light. This beautiful, sweet, gullible man was willingly walking into the jaws of a beast—a predator. 

“Follow me,” he says, almost huskily. “I know a spot.”

Jason’s holding onto Kirk’s arm as they creep through the graveyard. Kirk’s all too familiar with the place, but Jason’s like a scared little mouse.

“Are you scared?” 

Kirk purrs, a smug note audible in his tone. He can hear the rapid beating of Jason’s heart, the way his breath comes quick and shallow with nerves as they walk through the dark, silent graveyard.

“A little…” He gulps, glancing around in case anything were to jump out at them. Angels were supposed to be beacons of fearlessness, and here Jason was, shaking like a leaf, clinging to Kirk like his life depended on it.

Kirk bites his lip, holding back a chuckle. The angel was absolutely adorable when he was nervous like this. It made him seem so small and fragile, almost like a little puppy. 

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” he assures, resting a hand on Jason’s lower back and rubbing it in a comforting gesture. “You’re safe with me.”

Jason glances down in surprise when he steps on a twig, his halo falling to the ground. He lets go of the ravenette’s arm to pick it up, and when he stands back up after readjusting its position on his head, he finds himself alone. 

He glanced around once, twice, thrice, and Kirk has vanished. Fear spikes through his heart like thorns, and his big doe eyes are wide in fear. 

“Kirk?” He asks, voice so shaky, fear rolling off him in waves.

Jason’s all alone in this creepy graveyard in the middle of god knows where, it’s coming close to midnight, and he swears he’s not alone. 

Fear gripes his heart like a vice, panic settling in as he swerves left and right to try and catch a glimpse of the man. He takes a few steps forward, oh-so paranoid, watching the tombstones and the shrubbery and the forest nearby. He might just believe in the supernatural now.

“Kirk!?” 

Jason calls again, panic rising. He can feel himself trembling from fear, the silence around him suddenly deafening. “Where are you?” 

He scans the area around him, looking for clues of Kirk’s whereabouts. His heart is beating out of his chest, his muscles taut with tension as he takes a few halting steps forward, almost afraid of what he might stumble upon.

Nothing. 

Not a sound, not a glimpse of that dark hair or sharp smile, or even the flicker of that velvet cape. He’s well and truly alone now, a sitting duck in the middle of this dark and seemingly haunted place.

“Kirk..?” 

He says weakly, no conviction left in his voice. His breaths come in short puffs, vision going slightly hazy from fright.

He glances to his right at the sound of a twig snapping, whipping his head around and finding….nothing. Not a single soul. 

“Who’s there…?” 

Jason asks shakily, looking around in a frenzy for the source of the sound. His heart is beating madly out of his chest, panic clawing his throat with icy fingers.

The fright is swallowing him whole, and he can hear another twig snap closer to him, only a few feet behind him. He spins around—nothing. So he does the only thing he knows how to do. 

Run.

He takes off running with sheer panic, heart in his throat. He can’t bring himself to look back, can’t hear anything over the loud beating of his own heart and the rush of adrenaline. His mind is empty, focused only on the single goal of getting away from whoever or whatever is behind him.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, can’t see clearly in front of him, and stumbles over the uneven ground numerous times, twigs and leaves grasping at his ankles in his hurry. Adrenaline is roaring in his ears, fear driving his legs and fuelling his panic.

There’s a faint voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him to slow down before he falls and breaks his ankle—but it’s soon drowned out by the fear of being hunted or chased down. 

His breaths are harsh and ragged, lungs screaming and muscles aching with the effort to run, panic driving him on. 

He can hear footsteps behind him, heavy and loud and gaining on him fast. He can’t even see what’s after him now—his vision swimming and chest clenching from fright.

He’s in hysterics, tears muddling his vision and his breathing is erratic—his lungs burn and so do his calves, but he keeps on running. The graveyard is a maze, and he can’t seem to find the exit.

And then he falls. 

His foot tangles up with a root sticking out of the ground, and he’s sent careening to the grass. Pain blooms in his ankle at the impact, sharp and sudden, and he can’t supress a cry of pain. He tries to scrabble and crawl away as he hears those footsteps coming close—almost upon him. 

He drags himself behind a large oak tree and muffled his breathing. The footsteps stop, and they sound confused…where did he go? 

The footsteps finally fade into the night after moving around a little more, and Jason breathed the tiniest sigh of relief. He peeks out from behind the tree to catch a glimpse of whatever had been chasing him. 

Still, nothing.

Just when he thinks he’s safe, there’s an overwhelming aura emanating from behind him. His breath catches in his throat, and he’s far too scared to even turn around. He’s cornered like a dog, and he musters the courage to look behind him.

But before he can do so, a strong hand wraps around his shoulders, pulling him back against someone’s chest. Jason’s wracked with sobs. He thinks it’s all over for him, this is how he’ll die. 

“Found you.”

Kirk does feel a pang of guilt at the sight of Jason like this—scared and crying and looking at him like he’s the devil himself. But he’s starved and he’s owed a meal, but not before playing with his food a little.

Of course, this is all part of his game. He needs to get the boy scared, get his blood pumping, and draw out that sweet fear pheromone. God, he's even more beautiful when he's so utterly petrified. Still, he has to admit to himself there’s something about the angelic boy’s frazzled and hysteric state that twists something in his chest slightly. God, he's even more beautiful when he's so utterly petrified.

Jason goes completely still when he feels the arm around him, tears streaming down his face as terror seeps through his very core. He’s trembling like a leaf even as he tries to keep quiet, scared of what will happen next. 

He swallows back a sob, trying to get his breathing under control. “Please…please don’t hurt me…” He whispers out brokenly, looking up at Kirk desperately, begging for his life. 

And he looks so, so beautiful in the dim light of the night, tears marring his soft features and eyes wide like a doe’s.

Kirk almost feels bad for having to scare him so badly, but he's also starving, and the fear makes his blood pump faster and his sweet scent even more potent. It makes his fangs ache in his jaws, and it's taking all his willpower not to sink them deep into that slender, smooth neck. 

His eyes gleam sadistically, leaning down so close that his lips brush over the shell of Jason’s ear. Jason’s chest heaves, his eyes sparkling under the moonlight. His gasps stutters and his breath shudders.

Jason’s body is rigid, frozen in fear as he feels the vampire breathing in his scent, that hand on his neck doing little to quell the panic that’s coursing through him. His lips are trembling, and a wave of dread courses through him. This is it. This is the end. 

“Please, please don’t hurt me…” He whispers pleadingly, a new wave of tears leaking from his eyes.

Kirk feels a pang of guilt again, but it’s quickly overridden by hunger and need. He grins and runs the tip of his nose over the pale, slender column of Jason’s neck, breathing him in greedily. He can feel the rapid beat of his pulse as he nuzzles over the skin on his neck, just shy of touching the sensitive skin with his mouth. 

He can feel the fear coming off Jason in waves, the scent of it strong enough to leave him heady and almost drunk.

Jason’s breaths are coming in short, sharp gasps, every exhale a small whimper of fear. He can feel the press of that mouth on his skin, feel the hot wet puff of breath tickling his collarbones, and he can’t stop the tears from streaming down his face. 

“I-I’ll do anything…please—whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me. Please.” He whimpers out, tears running freely down his face. It’s so pathetically arousing to Kirk.

Kirk feels it as a shiver runs through Jason’s entire body with that utterance, and it causes a jolt of excitement and arousal through him, too. The sheer begging and pleading would’ve been enough to get him all hot and bothered alone, but the fear pheromone emanating from those words, mixed with the tears on that smooth, porcelain face, was like an electric shock to his body. 

He groans softly, unable to hold back the sound.

Jason can hear the groaned out sound from the vampire as well as feel his breath on his neck, his entire body trembling in fear, pulse racing. He closes his eyes, almost praying to whatever god is out there that he’ll get out of this alive somehow. 

He can’t stop the tremors, can’t stop the tears, and he can’t help the pitiful whimpers that escape him as he continues to cry. He knows he looks a mess right now—terrified, pathetic, hysterical…

It’s taking all of Kirk’s restraint to hold himself back. The tears, the smell, the whimpers—he’s holding back the animalistic instincts within himself in a battle of restraint. He’s not going to pounce on the beautiful boy here and now—he’s going to drag this out a bit more. 

He can’t help the way he nuzzles his face into the crook of Jason’s neck, letting out a shaky breath at how close he is to tasting this angelic creature. As much as he’d like to take him right there and then, it would be more enjoyable if Jason could derive pleasure from this too.

Jason can feel everything—the press of that mouth on his neck, the cool breath of the vampire on his heated skin, the heat from that body pressed flush against his back. And then, suddenly, he feels a sensation that makes his brain come to a screeching halt. 

He can feel the vampire’s tongue licking a slow stripe over his neck. He freezes instantly, heart in his throat, body trembling.

Jason’s reaction to that one gesture is the final nail in the coffin. 

Kirk’s restraint snaps, the desire and hunger becoming too strong to hold back. His breathing huffs out in ragged gasps, and he pushes the boy’s head to the side with his nose, baring that lovely neck even more. 

He lets his lips finally press down over the soft, sensitive skin of his neck, mouthing over it eagerly.

Jason groans, and Kirk’s free hand slides down his body, sensing his now growing arousal, and holding onto his hip with a firm grip.

Meanwhile, the angel is having a terrible time with his unwarranted arousal, how could he be getting hard when there’s someone, something, that could kill him any time?

That faint sound of pleasure from Jason sends a jolt of heat through Kirk’s body. So, the boy does want this. Interesting. He grins against the crook of his neck at the Kirk is absolutely addicted to the sounds the boy makes. 

He can’t stop himself from touching as much of that lovely skin as possible, his touches gentle as his fingers slide up the inside of Jason’s thigh. 

Kirk nips at the angel’s ear, licking softly at the skin. He can also feel his own arousal growng, pressed against the red-head’s thigh as he continues to lick and mouth at Jason’s neck. He can’t stop the soft guttural growl that comes from the back of his throat.

Jason can feel it too, digging into his leg so shamelessly. And as much as he wishes he wasn’t, his briefs started feeling tighter. This was the worst—getting hard by someone you don’t even know, in a situation that meant life or death.

He can both feel and hear the whimper that leaves Jason’s lips as he realises the boy’s growing arousal as well, and it makes his grin grow even wider. The whimper also causes him to give a hard press of his hips against the thigh, the friction making him shiver a little. 

His tongue continues to lap and lick along the sensitive skin of his neck, before he nips the skin gently, fangs just barely scraping over the surface of it.

By now, Jason’s well aware the person behind him has some sort of fangs, so it’s some sort of unnatural humanoid creature that’s marking up his neck like a lover.

Jason’s neck is absolutely bruised from the vampire’s lips and teeth, marked so pretty that there’s no doubt of what caused it. Kirk continues to mouths along his neck, moving up and biting at the skin just below the ear. The hand on the angel’s hip slides down further, the other still gripping firmly at his throat.

“You taste so good, pretty boy…” 

Kirk speaks against the skin of his neck, lips moving back and forth over the flesh. His tongue occasionally laps over the surface to gather more of that sweet taste. He loves those whimpers and soft gasps the boy’s letting out and the way he’s pushing back against him ever so slightly. 

His tongue and lips slowly move up towards the boy’s ear and he grins. 

“Just wait till I taste you elsewhere….”

A jolt of arousal runs up Jason’s spine, his cheeks flushing. Kirk thinks it’s divine intervention that Jason doesn’t recognise his voice, but then again, they’d only met that night. 

Despite the unfamiliarity, the reactions he’s getting from the angel is making it more fun by the second. The flushes across his face that he can’t tell apart from the fear, those delicious whimpers and gasps, and the hardening of his arousal against his own body. 

He decides he wants more of these reactions, so that’s where he’s going next. 

His hand on the boy’s neck slides down, fingers skimming along the buttons of his shirt and popping them open slowly, down until his sternum.

Jason shivers—this predicament he’s in is surprising, but he only wished that it wasn’t some creature that wished to fuck him.

More and more of the angel’s skin is revealed as Kirk pushes the fabric of the shirt to the side, exposing those lovely collarbones, those soft and smooth shoulders, the skin that he could just devour. 

His lips and tongue are all over that skin now, leaving behind a trail of bruising kisses and faint marks of his teeth, moving and sucking up to the boy’s ear. 

“You’re gorgeous…” He murmurs hotly, breath tickling the skin of the boy’s ear. He spots his own single crypt nearby—black delight violas pooling around the base. His plan is simple: to have Jason on top of his own coffin, on the sleek greyed marble, untarnished through the years.

He slowly maneuvers Jason back towards his own crypt, mouth continuing to bruise up the skin beneath his lips, leaving behind a pretty trail of marks that’s almost hypnotising to himself. 

His nose nudges the boy’s head to the side, exposing the crook of his neck, and Kirk can’t help it. He needs to taste this sweet skin once again, needs to taste the blood pumping right underneath the surface. 

That neck is exposed so willingly now, and Kirk runs his lips and tongue right over it again.

Jason is flipped around to face him—and the angel expects to see some horrible, ugly creature of the night, but is met by a familiar face buried in his neck…

“Kirk?”

Kirk lifts his head from Jason’s neck at that sound. He’s surprised that the boy hadn’t recognised him already.

“You…I thought you…” He’s speechless. He doesn’t know what to say. Was he supposed to be mad? That Kirk had left him and chased him around and held him hostage like it was some funny little game? Or was he supposed to be even more aroused, that the pretty Californian man had hunted him down like he was some sort of rabbit and marked him up like he owned him?

Kirk can see and hear the conflicting thoughts running through that pretty head. He can smell the confusion in the pheromones that are still being released from his body—arousal, confusion, a little bit of hurt. 

He grins at the sight, a mix of amusement and hunger, feeling a dark thrill at the way Jason looks right now beneath him. He can’t decide if it’s adorable or arousing that the boy is so confused, so conflicted. 

He’s holding Jason prisoner, pinning his slender body against the thick marbled gravestone of his very own resting place…

Kirk presses forward some more. He’s leaning forward, keeping that body pinned against the marble, watching the way Jason looks back up at him with wide eyes, full lips parted. 

“You look so beautiful like this….” He murmurs lowly, eyes running all over the slender figure, taking in every little bit of skin that’s exposed and every little mark he’s left. 

Now, Jason’s sat on the crypt, Kirk standing as he mouths desperately at his neck, tracing his lifeline with his tongue. Jason’s robes are hiked up for his legs to have more room to move, pooling around the marble like a veil. 

Despite all his questions and all, Jason can’t help but let Kirk do what he wants, clutching his costume as he groans softly, eyes screwed shut. Kirk’s free hand moves lower, under Jason’s robes to trace his thigh.

Jason’s skin is so smooth under his fingers that it has him shivering, and when that lovely moan comes out, he almost buckles at the knees. He’s never heard anything so sweet. He continues to run his tongue and lips along the boy’s neck, sucking harshly at the skin occasionally to leave behind marks of his own. His other hand is on his pale thigh, running up and down that bare skin.

Jason’s skin is addictive to the touch. It’s so soft and smooth, like supple porcelain, and Kirk absolutely craves more of it, just to explore, to devour, to claim. 

He nips at that delicious neck again, sucking at the skin roughly, and he can feel the moan of pleasure that vibrates through Jason’s body. His teeth graze over the bruised skin, just a hint of fangs in the gesture.

Then, as quick as lightning, he sinks his teeth into Jason’s jugular, and those ice blue eyes fly open. A pained cry escapes his lips, and his neck throbs. He claws at Kirk’s clothes, the sharp pain almost numbing.

When the blood hits his tongue, it’s absolutely heavenly. It’s a rush of pleasure and ecstasy and sweetness that floods through his veins, leaving him euphoric. He could get very used to how this boy tastes, how he feels and sounds and smells. He grips Jason’s thighs, keeping them open and spread to fit him between, taking more and more of the blood from his neck.

“Stop—what the hell-!” Jason tries to pull Kirk off, eyes wide in fear and betrayal. 

There is no stopping now. Jason can only watch as Kirk continues to drink and feed from his neck. But he can sense the panic and the fear and betrayal rising in Jason, and a small part of him does feel guilty for not telling the boy the truth, for leaving him in the dark like this. 

So he pulls back reluctantly, licking over the wound he’s made.

Jason’s staring at him like he’s a serial killer drenched in gore, and he feels the puncture wounds in his neck with horror. 

“You—”

The look in Jason’s eyes makes something in Kirk twinge. Those beautiful pools of blue staring at him like he’s some kind of monster. 

He is a monster, isn’t he? 

He stares back, watching those eyes widen even more at the dark stains of red on his lips and the fangs that are visible.

His breath shudders, and Jason curses himself for being so naive—who goes to a graveyard with a person they’d only met that night? 

“You’re a vampire!”

He can see the horror, the fear, and the realization in Jason’s eyes. It makes some part of him cringe, knowing this is not how he would have wanted the night to end. But there’s no denying the truth anymore, so he nods, a soft exhale escaping him. 

“…I am.” He replies quietly. Of course he is. 

He’s still standing between Jason’s legs, hands resting on the tops of his thighs, pinning him to the smooth, grey, polished surface of his resting place.

“You bit me!”

It’s a simple statement. He did bite him. 

His lips are still tinged a deep red from the boy’s blood, and there’s small drops of the liquid in the corners of his mouth. He stares back at Jason, guilt settling like ash in his lungs. 

“I did.”

“I’m going to die!” He shrieks, and Kirk thinks he’s louder than the banshees that used to be his neighbours.

There it is. The panic and the panic-induced hysterics. Jason’s going to think he’ll die and then go on a rampage. 

“No—No! You’re not going to die—I only drank a little…and besides, I’d never kill you.” Kirk reassured, and Jason can tell Kirk’s panicking a little too.

“Relax…I only drank some. You won’t die, I won’t let you. I’d never kill you…I only drink from people every once in a while, usually when I’m hungry, but you, you just taste so damn good…I couldn’t resist. But you’re fine, you’re not dead, you’re going to be okay, I’m telling you..” 

He’s rambling by now, desperately trying to keep Jason’s attention and calm him down, hands gripping at his thighs soothingly.

“You’re a vampire—you’ll drink me dry and-and leave my body here!” Jason’s making up scenarios in his mind, which in turn make him even more panicked and scared. And now the boy’s even making up scenarios in his mind. Kirk frowns, knowing it’s only making this situation even more difficult. 

So he does the only thing he really wants to do at that moment. 

Their mouths clash together, Jason’s own blood filling his mouth, coppery and tangy. Kirk is desperate, their lips moving together in a heated, passionate manner.

Jason stares at him, taken aback, but Kirk’s so tender and gentle that he almost wants to believe him. If Kirk wanted to drain him, he would’ve done so by now, right?

Kirk pulls back, leaving Jason breathless and wide-eyed and confused once again, and he leans his head forward until their foreheads are pressed together, his hands still holding softly onto the boy’s shoulders.

He can’t help the desperate plea that leaves his lips. “Please…trust me. I won’t kill you, or drain you, or anything of the sort. I swear. All I did was drink a few drops….”

Jason hesitates. He seems so genuine, and those wine red eyes look up at him pleadingly, like he was an innocent creature that just wanted a meal. Kirk can see the hesitance in Jason’s eyes, but at least there’s something other than fear in them. He gently touches the underside of the boy’s jaw, tilting his head to the side so more of that lovely neck is exposed to him once again. 

“I swear, I won’t kill you.” He repeats in that same pleading voice, hands gripping slightly tighter at his shoulders. He doesn’t want to accidentally bruise those beautiful shoulders. “I’d rather do something else to you, anyway..”

Heat floods Jason’s cheeks at the admission, and without prompt, Kirk leans in close, a hand sneaking up Jason’s thigh, creeping past his briefs. Cold hands cup Jason’s growing erection, a shudder running up the angel’s spine, a soft gasp escaping his lips. 

Having a literal vampire fondle him shouldn’t make him this aroused, but somehow it does. He’s not quite sure if it’s the fact that Kirk could kill him any second if he wanted to, or that he chooses not to, that has him so turned on.

Kirk is absolutely addicted to the sounds Jason makes. He nips at the boy’s ear, licking softly at the skin before speaking in a soft and pleading voice. 

“I want you so bad, baby…” His voice is low, breathing in Jason’s scent and licking up the blood trickling out from his wound. 

Kirk’s hand slides under Jason’s underwear to stroke softly at his hardened cock, marveling at how big it is. Jason stifles a moan, holding onto the lapels of Kirk’s cloak. He gazed at the human adoringly, like he was a prized painting in an art gallery.

He frees Jason’s shaft from its confines, shoving his robes up to gather around his hips. The vampire spat into his hand and pumped the angel’s cock with fervour, drawing a sigh from Jason. Precome pearls at his tip, leaking down the underside of his engorged dick, further helping Kirk’s hand slide up and down even faster. 

“Fuck—like that…please..” He murmurs, resting his forehead on Kirk’s shoulder, fingers digging into his cloak. Kirk’s hand moves quick, Jason’s mind spins in pleasure from the pace, praises spilling from his lips like holy words.

Leaning onto Kirk as his toes curl, Jason whimpers incessantly, quivering in the ravenette’s hand. He can feel himself drawing close, balls growing tight as his climax builds. 

He’s so, so close, and just as he’s about to hit his release, Kirk pulls away with a sly grin, leaving him high and dry.

“Wait—please..don’t stop..!” Jason whines into Kirk’s clothes, lifting his head up to meet him. His eyes are glassed over and hazy with pleasure, need welling in his powder-blue orbs. Kirk almost wants to give in, to give Jason exactly what he needs, but he restrains himself.

Instead, he pushes Jason onto his back on the crypt, his legs hanging over the edge. He kneels between his legs and tosses Jason’s briefs to the side mindlessly, focusing on the haven presented to him. 

Teasingly biting and sucking and marking up Jason’s inner thighs, Kirk lets his fangs scrape his thighs, goosebumps trailing up his skin. To his surprise, Jason mutters something so soft, he can barely hear it. 

“Speak up, darlin’, I can’t hear you.” 

“Bite me again. Please.”

He whispered it in such a needy tone, Kirk’s length jumped in his pants, straining against their confines, begging to be free and to have at Jason. He nearly gives in to Jason’s request, yearning to sink his jaws into his lovely pale flesh. 

But he had self-restraint, even in a time like this, and instead nibbles on his skin, leaving little indents of his teeth. That satisfies Jason enough, whining softly, begging for more stimulation. 

Eager to get to work to pleasuring Jason, he grips pale hips and lifts Jason’s pretty little pink pucker to mouth level, resting the crook of his knees on his shoulders. He’s buried between two muscular thighs which are trembling with anticipation, dipping his tongue into that tight wet heat, licking and sucking.

Jason grunts, Kirk’s tongue teasing around the rim, tracing the it with long, flat licks that has his cock leaking down his front. He stares up at the black sky and the stars, and he’s sure if God’s real he’d be looking back down at him disappointedly. Dressed as an angel, getting his ass eaten by a bloodsucking supernatural creature. How shameless he was, in a graveyard, a resting place for the deceased, no less.

And yet, the thrill of it all is intoxicating, getting chased around, bitten and fucking a super hot vampire. Kirk’s tongue dips deep into his hole, and it’s unnaturally long, prodding against a rubbery bump that has him crying out  unintentionally. 

“Shit—oh god..” He breathes, his leg muscles pulling taut as he stiffens in pleasure, thighs clamping around Kirk’s head. He merely hums between Jason’s legs, eating him out like a man starved. 

If this was how he’d die, Jason wouldn’t really mind it. 

The pressure in his belly builds up again, his cock pulsing. Kirk takes notice and somehow manages to speed up his movements, bringing Jason over the edge far sooner than he’d expected. 

Come spurts out of Jason’s throbbing cockhead, dribbling down his chest and dirtying his lovely silks. A skilled hand wraps around his sensitive shaft, milking him while working his fluttering hole. Jason squirms in oversensitivity, spasming around Kirk’s tongue. Cold hands knead the flesh of his ass soothingly, as if trying to ground him.

When every last drop is squeezed from the human, Kirk releases him and rests him back on the smooth marble. Jason’s chest heaves, body still coming down from the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

Kirk climbs onto the sleek crypt, admiring the sight before him. He’s a little distracted for a moment. Jason’s shirt is in disarray, sliding off his shoulders, the first three buttons of the shirt ripped open to expose miles of creamy skin. The pale flesh is littered with a trail of marks from his own lips, bruised and tender looking. His hair is in disarray, and those big doe eyes are staring up at him wide with satisfaction.

He’s absolutely mouthwatering like this.

And soon he’ll have his fill of the man, settling between those pliantly spread legs again. He drags a finger through the puddle of cum on Jason’s abdomen, tracing around his hole. Their eyes meet again, and Kirk’s carry a silent question, to which Jason responds with a bite of his lower lip.

Jason jolts as a long finger slides into his warm walls. It’s been a while since he’d fucked anyone, and it’s obvious to Kirk from how he felt like a vacuum around his finger. Kirk moved to quickly push into Jason’s tight hole, hearing him whine loudly and rock back onto his fingers.

Another finger is slipped in, pumping in and out of Jason, fingers curling and uncurling. His fingers search for Jason’s prostate again, feeling around and spreading his fingers. 

“Another.” Jason croaks out, and Kirk complies, slipping another finger past that tight ring of muscle. He sighs, letting Kirk do the work as his dick worked to half-hardness again, jolting to a near-full erection when Kirk presses down on his g-spot. 

“There?” Kirk asks simply, working his fingers over that spot in a repetitive poking motion. “Right there…” Jason breathes, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure overtakes him.

Once deemed prepared enough, Kirk pulls out his aching shaft and spits in his hand, gobs of salvia mixed with the remnants of Jason’s blood. He jerks himself off a few times, slicking himself up all while making eye contact with Jason.

Jason catches sight of Kirk’s beautifully hung length; the auburnette’s form tremors in anticipation, eager to be stuffed full like it was thanksgiving all over again. “C’mon…don’t make me wait..” He whines, arousal bleeding out into his voice. 

Kirk merely chuckles and aligns himself with Jason, giving one last glance of confirmation. 

“Please.” 

And that was all Kirk needed before he’s pushing the tip of his flush cock into Jason, ramming his whole dick into him without warning. Jason cries out at the sudden intrusion, his legs clamping around Kirk’s hips as if to still himself. 

Kirk is kind enough to let him adjust to his size, and Jason flutters around him to try and accommodate. His cold, clawed hands settle on the warm and soft flesh of Jason’s hips, which are narrow with his ilium jutting out slightly. Kirk admires how sleek the mortal’s figure is, build akin to a dancer’s, and how his crimson blood has dried around those pretty puncture wounds.

Meanwhile, Jason breathes deep. Kirk is a lot to take, and while he prides himself on being more of a size queen, Kirk’s more girthy than his previous hookups. Soon enough, he’s shifting his hips back into Kirk as he seeks more friction. 

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirk, who gladly starts to fuck in and out of him at a not-so-slow pace. Nonetheless, Jason’s blinded by ecstasy, his loud cries of satisfaction ringing through the graveyard. Kirk pats himself on the shoulder for finding such a secluded spot—there’s no way he’d be able to keep Jason silent if it were closer to town…

Kirk’s cockhead draws back before snapping back into Jason and ramming against his prostate, drawing choked moans from the latter. “Don’t stop—!” He cries, fingertips digging into Kirk’s shoulders. The bite of his grip only serves to get Kirk further more aroused, rutting into his partner with even more vigour.

Jason doesn’t think he’ll last long at this rate, Kirk’s cold hands roaming the exposed expanse of his body, a cheeky hand tweaking one of his nipples, pulling on it just to hear him whimper. The other moves to circle Jason’s engorged tip, spreading his precome around while dipping his thumb into his slit slightly.

Face burning, he holds onto the edges of the crypt for stability as Kirk ruthlessly pounds into him like he’s got something to prove. It’s so good that it sends shivers up his spine.

If something like this happened every year, Halloween would be his favourite holiday. Not even his birthday would beat getting fucked by a super hot vampire on a tomb in the middle of nowhere.

Kirk’s analysing Jason’s every twitch and facial expression, trying to take note of what he liked and didn’t. Sweat beads on his brow and yet his boundless stamina contributes to his lack of tiredness. 

On one hand, his stamina was perfect for pleasuring people who took a while to come. On the other, it wasn’t as good for individuals like Jason, who’s now come once already, but is still getting fucked at the same pace. 

Overstimulation starts to overtake Jason, his chest heaving as his shaft pathetically spurts any remnants of come left from his orgasm. His hole is still being used like a fucktoy for Kirk’s pleasure, and he just pathetically clenched around him. All he could do is hang on for dear life as Kirk splits him open. 

To Jase, Kirk’s not really close to reaching his climax, focused intently on the sensations of Jason around him as he tips his head forward, raven curls hanging forward, wet with sweat. 

The pleasure now borders on pain as Kirk continues to tease Jason’s energy-drained body, jerking off his dick with a talented hand. Tears spring to his eyes, and he feels sensitive to any little touches, even as he feels his third climax of the night start to build. He bites his lips, hard, eyes screwing shut. 

Jason’s third orgasm hits him hard like a ton of bricks. He whimpers pathetically, squirming in Kirk’s grip as release splatters over his chest like some sort of abstract painting. His chest heaves as he’s now shifting about in Kirk’s grip, trying to find a little relief from the constant assault on his prostate.

Kirk can just about feel his own high coming soon, looking at how messed up Jason was from him certainly brought it much closer. His hands shift to Jason’s hips, bruisingly tight, thrusting into him with reckless abandon, chasing his pleasure down like a hound. 

Weakly, Jason’s fourth orgasm comes around the same time Kirk’s does, splattering over his already ruined silks, even reaching his own chin. Kirk throws his head back, shooting his load deep into the warm confines of Jason. The latter is surprised by how much Kirk came in one go, his own dick twitching and going limp against his come-coated chest.

Jason can feel Kirk’s hot spunk leak out of his throughly loosened hole even while he’s still balls deep in him. Christ, he really was ruined, wasn’t he?

“That was amazing.” Kirk pants, lying next to Jason on his crypt. Jason’s dazed and he barely registers Kirk’s words. “Huh? Oh, yeah. It was…the best sex I’d ever had. What a way to spend Halloween.” He murmurs, glancing at Kirk, his body feeling like lead. Kirk scans his form with a soft smile.

“Let’s get you cleaned up…”

“Y’know we still have some time until the sun comes up.” Kirk grins, fangs gleaming as Jason huffs, blowing a piece of hair from his face. “What, will you burn in the sun or something?” 

Kirk merely laughs, and Jason wouldn’t mind seeing that everyday. “No, not at all. But I’d rather show you my home.” “Better not be a stupid castle or coffin.” 

Kirk rolls his eyes, but what could Jason really expect from a vampire of all things?

“Trust me, it’s a lot nicer than that. Who do you take me for?” “Nosferatu?” Jason offers. Kirk gasps in faux outrage. “Am I that ugly?” He pouts. “Certainly not.” Jason grins up at him, leaning into his cold grasp like it was the warmest place on earth. 

“Just take me to your home and bandage me up. And how do you suppose I hide the bite marks?” He hadn’t really thought of that. Neither of them had.

“Say that killer vampire stole your heart.”

“And my blood?” 

“Sure.”

“…I can work with that.”

[shadowmaat]

Finders Keepers

Corrie Week, Day 6: Force-Sensitive Clone

-

"We get a lot of requests like this, unfortunately," Trooper Hound explained. "CorSec isn't big on helping the common folks unless there's something in it for them."

Seek nodded agreement, only half-listening. There was a young Nautolan girl missing, likely kidnapped by her estranged father. Hound had been approached by the distraught mother while showing Seek the basics of patrol-work.

Grizzer had her snout to the ground, sniffing the girl's trail, but Seek already knew they were on the right track. He'd always had a good sense for finding lost items. And people. And the occasional secret, like Commander Thire's hidden chocolate stash.

One alley they approached smelled strongly of lemons, as if someone had gotten the urge to try and scrub it clean, except there was no evidence of it. Seek took the turn and was halfway down it before Hound called out to him.

He looked back to see Hound consoling Grizzer, who was pawing at her nose and keening.

"Fucking scent bombs," Hound complained. "Bastard was prepared. I'll see if Grizzer can pick up the trail again, but it isn't looking good."

He sounded mournful. Seek knew they wouldn't give up the chase so easily, but without Grizzer's nose to lead them...

He hesitated. His finding ability was usually seen as either a cool party trick or a sign of dangerous mutation. He'd only been with the Guard for a week and had only met Hound at the start of shift, but he had a good feeling about all of them. More importantly, a little girl was missing and he could feel a clock counting down in his head.

"I think they went this way, sir," Seek said. "I'm really good at this sort of thing. It's how I wound up here."

The less said about that, the better.

"You think so?" Hound didn't sound skeptical so much as hopeful? Maybe?

Seek nodded. "I can't be sure," he lied, "but I think this is the way we need to go. She... she might be in trouble."

"Right. C'mon, Grizz." Hound scooped up the still whining massif and carried her into the alley past the worst of the lemon stench before putting her down again. "Lead the way, Seek."

Seek did, trusting his instincts to guide them. Through the alley, down another road, and then a shortcut through a building full of tents and wary-eyed locals.

As they were exiting through a hole in the side of the building a figure landed in front of them in a swish of blue robes.

Hound swore, blaster out and leveled while Grizzer growled a warning. Seek's hand drifted towards his blaster, but he wasn't sure it was needed.

The figure straightened, revealing a dark-skinned humanoid in a mix of blue and cream embroidered robes. Where their eyes should have been there was just skin, and an elaborately painted pair of eyes that seemed hawklike, given the feather patterns around the edges.

"Hands out and step back!" Hound ordered.

"Sorry," the figure said, complying. "I could have planned that a little better. I thought you might be someone else. Anyway! I'm Knight Naremi Twiss! I'm here to help!"

The raised arms revealed a tooled leather belt. And a lightsaber.

"Fuck! I mean, sorry, sir," Hound said, reholstering his blaster. "You surprised me."

"I do seem to have that effect on people, for some reason," Knight Twiss mused. "Anyway, no worries! Although I'm more of a she/her if that matters."

"Yes, ma'am." Hound introduced himself, Seek, and Grizzer, who was already happily accepting scritches from the Knight.

"Well met!" Twiss stood again. "I take it you're hunting the Blood Drinkers, too?"

Horror washed through Seek. "The... what?"

"Blood Drinkers?!" Hound's voice went up an octave.

"Well, that's what I call them." Twiss waved a dismissive hand. "Maybe you call them something else? They go around grabbing people and draining their blood to sell on the black market. Sometimes a little bit, sometimes all of it."

Seek shuddered.

"I think I might have heard some chatter about that back at the base," Hound said slowly. "But I didn't think it was that widespread. Or this high up the levels."

"We think they're increasing their operations." Twiss motioned for them to follow her. "And they have been sticking to the lower levels. That's why I'm not sure if this is them or something else."

"We're just trying to locate a kidnapped girl," Hound said. "But this sounds... bad. Should I call it in?"

Seek was relieved to see the Jedi was taking the same route he would have, although how she could see without eyes was beyond him. The Force, maybe. He also had the uneasy feeling that their case and the Jedi's might be linked. Somehow.

"There!"

He and Twiss stopped at the same time, pointing at an abandoned diner with blacked out windows.

"Jinx!" Twiss nudged her shoulder against Seek's. "C'mon, let's check it out!"

"I think we should wait," Hound said. "I called for backup. If this is more than just one missing kid or a couple of criminals trying to start a new medical scam, then it's going to take more than four of us to do this."

Grizzer huffed, as if agreeing.

Twiss nodded. "Okay, sure! That's probably a good idea. But let's go wait over there." She pointed toward the side of the building. There was a narrow passage and a propped-open door almost hidden in the dark.

"Can we, sir? Please?" Seek looked at Hound, fidgeting. The clock in his head was getting closer to running out.

"No going in!" Hound warned. "Not til backup arrives!"

"Yessir!"

"I mean, if you want to be logical about it, that's fine," Twiss agreed.

As they approached the side of the building, voices could be heard.

"-part of the deal! She's my daughter! You said I could keep her!"

The first voice had a swirly accent that reminded Seek of the missing girl's mother's voice.

"You didn't tell us she had a rare blood type."

The second voice sounded modulated, and much deeper than the first.

"Screw you, Nusk! I'm taking Tem and-"

Blaster fire erupted.

"DADDYYYY!"

Seek was already in motion without consciously choosing it. He and Twiss burst through the already-open door with Hound and Grizzer hot on their heels.

The inside of the derelict diner was surprisingly clean. There were a lot of medical-looking equipment around, including exam tables and IV stands with empty bags and tubing.

A scrawny, dark blue nautolan was on the floor, smoke rising from a blaster wound in his chest. A much younger, purple Nautolan was being dragged back by a long, furry brute while a Nemoidian ordered another one to "drain the dead one."

Everything seemed to speed up after that. Twiss launched herself at the one holding Tem. Seek fired a stun round at the Nemoidian, who dodged it. Hound was barking orders for the criminals to stand down and Grizzer was just barking.

One of the furry brutes fired a shot at Seek, only for Twiss to deflect it. Using some Force move, she launched one of the IV stands at them. They went down, tangled in the tubing.

The one holding Tem hauled her up into their arms, only to yell and drop her as she bit him. She scrambled back toward her father as two more figures burst through the doors of what would have been the kitchen area.

Seek was lining up another stun shot when the Nemoidian pulled something from his pocket and threw it.

Thick smoke filled the room, obscuring everything. Despite that, the blaster fire continued. Seek paused, lined up a shot, and fired.

There was a yell as someone hits the ground. Twiss's pale blue blade cut through the smoke, followed by the scream of whomever she'd hit.

A snarl and a yelp indicated that Grizzer's caught someone, and Seek can hear the clink of binders as Hound reads them their rights.

"Bright Guy! Catch!"

Seek holstered his blaster and turned, knowing where and when to hold out his arms. He caught the wailing, coughing Nautolan girl and headed for the exit.

"I've got the girl," he told Hound over internal comms. "Taking her out of the smoke."

"Copy."

As he rounded the front of the diner he saw a squad of fellow Guardsmen approaching.

"Trooper! Report!"

Twiss staggered out of the smoke, coughing, followed by Hound and Grizzer, who was wheezing, but looking satisfied with herself.

Hound and Twiss are the the ones to fill in Thorn and his squad. That left Seek free to remove his helmet and try to comfort Tem, who wanted absolutely nothing to do with Clicker's attempts to check her for injuries.

Eight underlings were captured or dead, including Tem's father. The Nemoidian in charge, unfortunately, managed to escape.

"I'll be able to find him again," Seek said. "I know it."

"That's why I like you, Bright Guy." Twiss appeared at his side. "And it's also why I'm taking you home with me."

Seek stared at her, bewildered.

"Look, General," Thorn started. "We're grateful for-"

"Not a General," Twiss corrected. "They don't trust me with troops. Except this one." She grinned at Seek.

"Uh..." Seek said.

Her eye makeup had smeared a bit during the fight, almost making it seem like she was winking.

"We're grateful for your help," Thorn continued. "But you can't simply take a trooper home with you to celebrate."

Seek's whole face burned, and he could feel it spreading down his chest.

Twiss laughed. "If that's what I was doing, you'd be absolutely right," she said. "But in this case I need him for Secret Jedi Reasons related to Secret Jedi Things."

Seek could almost hear Thorn grinding his teeth.

"It's okay, sir," he said. "I'll go."

Thorn tipped his helmet. Taking the hint, Seek put his own helmet back on. Tem's mother had arrived on scene shortly after the Guard, so she was in safe hands.

"If anything happens, Fox will have both our heads," Thorn warned.

Seek swallowed before answering. "I know, sir. But she's a Jedi. And I think... I think this might help."

Torn's helmet glared at Twiss.

"His shift ends in three hours. If he isn't back by then..."

"I promise I'll do my very best, Commander," Twiss said. "Now, if you'll excuse us, soonest gone is soonest returned."

As they headed for the nearest speeder dock, Twiss smiled at him.

"So, Trooper Seek, what do you know about Force sensitivity?"

[pierofilm]

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬: 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | Teaser One

2023 | 18+ | Series | ENHYPEN OT6 × READER | MASTERLIST

SUMMARY with the absolute order from the highest celestials, six high ranking angels were sent to capture and condemn you—an exceedingly sinful and overpowering succubus to the holy tower for eternity. Capturing you might not be so difficult with them outnumbering you, but the question is; would they be able to keep ignoring your irresistible charms while staying firm to their principles, abiding by the rules, and reciting their prayers forever?

GENRE angels and demons au, romance, reverse harem, angst, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT 1.7k

"Aaah~ aren't you a pretty little dumb thing?" You sang a song as you approached the cowering human, pressing your heels on his back which caused him to whimper in downright fear.

Your eyes fell upon an unconscious lady against the wall, her lips hanging apart with bubbles dripping from the corners of her lips. And then at the half unzipped pants of the middle-aged men beneath your heel.

What a cute sight, you thought. You only came to the red district to have some little fun with your favourite humans, to feed on their energy and so on. Your eyebrow raises at the thought of meddling with the humans committing sins, you shouldn't have to stop the man from forcing the lady against her will, yeah? The amount of pitch dark energies it would give you would be tremendously high and sufficient for your cultivation as a succubus, so why did you even bother?

At the back of your mind, a tiny voice called out in a moderate volume among any others. Maybe you could save her just for today, she ain't that strong enough to survive but maybe you could let her live one more day free of pain.

"Hm, why, why. Aren't you a big brave baby boy, why don't you show me how hungry you are?" Your finger swayed in a circular motion, casting a dark crimson spell within the man's orb which turn him into madness; his nails grew longer and sharp, screeching against the wet ground. His back arching to the point his lower spine grew out.

Your eyes mesmerised by your creation, you hushed the monster inside the club. "Go ahead, and have your feast."

Pitch darkness engulfed the sky, the city bustling with all sorts of noises and the road heavy with passing vehicles, crowds roaming around the street and alleys.

Walking down the street with your succubus' aura oozing too much with the hot crimson dress hugging your figure had all eyes regardless of gender thirsting over you, even though you didn't try that hard. You smirked at that, you never fail to make them fall for you anyways; asking you for a date that you very well know what it leads to, you politely declined them as your appetite has gone to the drain for no reason.

Pushing the glass door opened, the chill air inside the shop enveloped your bare arms—blending with the red dust particles around your body, replacing the crimson dress hugging you hips into a plain blue shirt with a full covered cardigan and a black skirt.

"(Name)! What are you doing so late outside, don't you have no idea how dangerous it is?!" The old lady with the round glasses on top of her nose, smacked your shoulders with a long sigh.

"Gosh, aunt. Nothing to worry about, I took the cab."

"Still! That's no excuse, didn't you hear that a pervert is roaming around the neighbourhood and a few female students have gone missing?!"

You shook your head in amusement, letting her rant on and on. Oblivious she was to your real identity, as you had kept it as a secret for a couple of years already, moulding your human skin to that of a simple human girl. You tied up your hair to a messy bun, putting your apron on as you went to your daily routine.

Arranging the costumes.

This place belongs to the aunt who had scolded you a moment ago, it's a shop that stood upon the business of embroidering all sorts of costumes or cosplays. It stood firm before the busy street, customers spilling in and out from the entrance every single day as soon as the sun rises. You surely weren't the only worker here, as there are other three that weren't currently present. None of them knew your real form.

It has been nearly a thousand years after you've been banished from heaven, looking back to the night sky—you snickered at memory flashing through your mind; of your fragile form weeping on the heaven's holy entrance. Not that it's important anymore, but surely it's chaos above there isn't? A lot more chaos, you wish rather than pray, for what is there use to pray when the gods above loathed your very existence.

You loathe them too, tremendously even, for what did have they done but threw you out? They didn’t even bother to hear any words from your lips, only sealing it with their powers that you’ve come to hated so much.

The bell rang slightly, unnoticed by you since you were in your thoughts, and your hands weaving the threads altogether. A couple of light taps on the counter had your attention, turning your head to the customer. “Oh- welcome to-”

A bright, prince charming of an image stood before you, taking your breath away instantly as you stuttered along each word you uttered. “What can I help you with, sir?” suppressing the inner smirk threatening to raise the corners of your lips, he sure is damn dashing as hell enough for you to feed on later.

“Um, hi.” He paused, his eyes looking away every couple of seconds. You obviously can see how struck he was at you, by your charms and so on. You wish you could grab a popcorn as you watch his eyelashes fluttering and the roses dusted on his cheeks. “I-ah, cosplay? I had a halloween party this weekend, so I would like to have some customised angel costumes for me and my friends.”

Angel. How cute. He wants to cosplay as an angel? You snickered at that particular word, sure he does look dashing enough to resemble an angel but you sure hope that he atleast doesn’t possess the filthy traits that one particular god had.

“Sure, is there anything you would like to add on your costumes?”

You guided him through the boxes filled with dozens varieties of materials, and you watched him as he took his time in each one of them with the notes flipped open on your hand and a pen on your other, you didn’t need it all, to be honest. Names, words, places and every word you heard are fully ingrained in your mind, never to be forgotten once uttered. That’s why, you had so much trouble with the downside of this ability despite the wonders of it. But the veil of deception you lifted upon you are to be carefully and meticulously tweaked to utter perfection, what is there to complain anyways?

You caught him stealing a few glances at you, a bit amused at his childish actions—you approached him as you wore the seductive smile on your lips. “Is there anything you want help with, sir?” Oh, how bad you want to take him right now. But darkness hasn’t enveloped the sky, and it would be inappropriate to the owner of this shop. Huh? You held the need to laugh at the word, “inappropriate” as if there's anything “appropriate” left in you though?

“See, I’m only asking this since.. Never mind.” he voiced out.

“Go ahead, sir. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Would you like to be my partner to the party?”

Sure, why not? You happily agreed to his request without any hesitation, what is there hit around the bush for nothing? That ain’t your style; first come, first serve—the golden rules remain the same no matter how many a thousand years had passed.

Yet..

"M-mister, I haven't done nothing, have I? P-please don't hurt me! I'm only a weak girl! There's nothing I could have done to anger you, did I?!" Your arm accidentally slid on the edge of the table, causing you to drop to your knees. Letting out a yelp in the process, your eyes begun tearing up. Lips trembling, you shook your head. "Who are you two?!"

The bustling noises of Halloween party oddly turn into a piercing silence of nothing, all the sounds of life had flee away from the space and only you remain. An ability that you recognise from someone in particular, someone that belongs to a particular kind of creature.

"Quit your act, we know who you are." Sunghoon approached you, the man who is supposedly your customer that asked you to be his partner a week ago. "Lady Succubus, isn't?"

An excruciating silence engulfed a couple of seconds after he uttered those words.

"Ugh, what a bummer. Let me act for a little awhile, yeah?" Your weeping face was replaced with amusement, a low disinterested tone enveloping your voice as you wiped off the tears from the corners of your eyes, getting up on your feet you did as you lazily look at their way. "Angels? It's been awhile since I saw one. I thought they had given up on tying me down. But.." pausing in getting a better look at the two.

They remained silent, not uttering anything yet highly alerted at your presence which has you a tad bit annoyed but after awhile—curiosity arises inside you which had you wondered how many did the angels did the gods sent to you this time? What kind of rules do they had amongst each other or who had the upper hand or who was the weakest?

"—didn't know the gods had such adorable baby angels with them?" You shrugged. "Couldn't they send a much bigger one with muscles or something.. but I'm not complaining."

“B-baby angels?!” Sunoo scoffed in return, “Please, for your information, we’re almost a thousand year old.”

“A thousand years?” Tapping your tongue inside your cheek, you winked at them. "Dom, or sub?"

Taken aback at your bold flirty gesture, Sunoo shook his head along with Sunghoon, tilting his head downwards in attempts to cover the light blush on his cheeks, whispering. "Ugh, she's so-"

‘Why are you even blushing?! Take control of yourself, you’re a high ranking angel!’

‘I know, I know!’ Sunoo screamed telepathically at Jay who interrupted him.

"We're here to capture you, I believe there's nothing to say anymore." said Sunghoon.

"Aw, baby boys like you are gonna do what? Capture me? Might as well tie me down with some rope or something?"

“That’s what we intended to do, actually.” Sunghoon lifted his index finger, taking one last look at Sunoo. "Bound her to the holy tower."

A neon blue light engraved in the speed of light on the ground, patterns of whom you recognised forms into chains and flew out from the ground before your very eyes, entangling your wrist and your neck in a thick metal collar which tightens almost immediately at your resistance.

"Tsk, this is not the rope I was asking for though. But how cute, you think this could do anything to me?" you snapped your thumb against your index finger, particles of crimson dust emerging from the tips—forming into a giant dust creatures that flew around their form, the horrendous long fingers of those creatures tightened around their neck which causes their spell to lose it’s activation on your form.

Something flashes across your line of vision, before you could react—a man in a white shirt and pants, black slicked hair and a tall frame hovering yours—raises his hand up the air, slapping your right cheek that it caused your line of vision pointing towards the ground.

Wiping the blood on the corner of your lip, you scoffed as your eyes fell on the man, seemingly unfazed. "You hit like a bitch, try harder."

Your words alone had his eyebrows twitching in utter annoyance, “I could hit you harder, brat. Sluts like you–”

“Oh, I didn’t know the recent generations of angels got such a feisty tongue. And how so? I’d prefer it... in another way tho.” Your words dusted off cherry hues on the boy's fair cheeks. "Aw, are you blushing?"

“Blushing for a slut like you? The goddesses above are more worthy than you who use such words in order to gain the favour of men.”

"Taking such tremendous pride in your status as an angel, what an awful thing to do."

"Unlike you, who are ungrateful. Drenching yourself in filth despite being given the opportunity by the gods to cultivate yourself to the highest rank of angels, that's what I call an idiot would only do." Jay raised his eyebrow.

You licked your tongues against your fangs, amusement laced in your voice. "A feisty angel indeed, what kind of training did they put you on to be this harsh? Why don't you come to me and see that I can do better?"

"You're nothing but filth, I would never lay my hand on you. Look at yourself."

"Ouch, am I supposed to get offended?" You raised your eyebrow at the boy whose piercing gaze never ceases. "Try harder."

"Quit reasoning with her, Jay." Jungwon appeared behind him, placing his palms on Jay's back. "She's a powerful succubus, remember. Stick with the mission."

"Fine." never breaking his glare at your soul, “No one’s going to save you anyways.”

Forming their hands into patterns were ultimately interrupted with a smoke emerging right before their eyes, your silhouette appearing out of it causing Jay's eyes to widened and his lips hanging apart by the close proximity between you and him; your nose almost brushing against his.

"Cinderella's dead, everybody." You muttered with a bored look on your face, clapping your palms together as you gaze deep into his soul. “Bold of you to assume that she’s still alive.”

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