#it’s got to be. traumatic to watch all of it fall apart

[impossible-rat-babies]

sitting w lae’zel like oh baby girl you are becoming so painfully disillusioned to what you were raised in huh

[soggyriceee]

pt 1

when your period was supposed to come and it didn’t, you knew it was because you had a married man’s baby growing inside of you. you felt ridiculous. sleeping with a married man is one thing, but allowing him to cum inside you and give you a baby? that was another. and you felt even more stupid for allowing him to do you like your first baby daddy did.

you didn’t bother to take a test. within the following weeks food disgusted you, even your favorites. water was hard to keep down, and your back hurt more and more each time you thought about it. but you kept a strong, brave face for your son. now allowing him to see mommy fall.

“so, i set the appointment for the 10th.” you had said into the phone, walking past your sons room for the final time tonight to make sure he was sound asleep. “i feel so stupid Marie. how can i be so stupid.”

“well, i cant say you aren’t stupid. you thought you were in love. what’s important is your not making the same.. choice, as you did with your first born.” your friend replied over the phone.

you didn’t have Konigs phone number. heck, you didn’t even know his age. he never opened up to you about his life. all you knew was his wife was terrible to him, and he used the club and you as release. as a breathe of fresh air. you hadn’t bothered to go back to the club either. you let your manager know your situation, and he was nothing but understanding and compassionate.

you began to head up towards your room, when you suddenly got a knock on the door. acknowledging the fact it was 11 at night, you slowly walked to the door, making sure your friend was still on the line. the peep hole was blocked, only adding to the suspense. your neighborhood was known for nightly break ins, apart of the reason as you why having another baby right now was no good choice.

but when you got a second knock, following a familiar voice, you couldn’t help but wrap your hand around the knob and pull the door slowly, slightly, enough for your nose to peek out the crack.

“open the door Scarlet..” the voice would say. for a moment, you were filled with happiness. he wasn’t gone he hadn’t ghosted you, he had come back for you. but then, you immediately felt anger. because while he did come back, he still left.

“i’ll call you tomorrow girl.” you said, opening the door wider and pressing the red button on the screen. in front of you, Konig presented himself, eye bags darker than his skin tone, eyes hooded. he smelled of booze and cigarettes, his oversized hoodie covering his eyebrows as small strands of his black hair peeled through. you couldn’t ignore the bags that he held on his hand, some obviously for you, some obviously for your son.

“i hate you.” was all you could mutter.

~~

“i had a feeling that he would enjoy some ninja turtles pajamas.. you had mentioned how it was his latest hyper fixation.” Konig said, watching as your smile not once left your lips. “he’s gonna love it.”

you placed the pajama back in their bag, placing it beside the other bags he had brought in. the 15 minuets of happiness and gift opening was over, and he knew he had some explaining to do.

“i.. i know i disappeared. but it wasn’t because.. because of what we did.” he began, resting back on his arm. “i had to figure some stuff out. home stuff.. life stuff. i missed you every second. you.. you pushed me through these last two weeks Scarlet.”

you almost didn’t wanna hear what he had to say, still traumatized from your first relationship and how that had gone. “and i know that i was fucked up for doing that to you after what you told me..” his hand grabbed yours, forcing your avoidant eyes to now look at him. “what i said that night.. all of it every last word i meant. i.. i’m in love with you. im so in love with you, i’m willing to take you and your son and.. and our baby to a better place than this.”

you flinched at “our baby”, forgetting that you had another human growing inside of you. “i’m getting an abortion.. on the 10th.. it’s already scheduled.” you blurted.

the air quickly became tight, the only noises that could be heard was the crackheads and drunks outside the apartment. and it stayed like this until he sat up. “you were gonna kill.. our baby?” he asked, trying to make sense of the absurdity that came from you.

you cocked your head to the side, a small chuckle coming from you as you straightened your posture. “i’m sorry.. are we forgetting how you ghosted me for two weeks? the last thing you saying to me was your gonna take care of me and then you disappear? we haven’t seen each other since and you really expected me to go through what i went through the first time again?”

you stood from your bed, stepping over the gifts and walking to your bedroom door. as you began to open it, ready to tell him to fuck off, he grabbed your arm, pulling you to the bed. swiftly, you were beneath him, one hand enough to pin both of yours above your head. “get off me you think i’m in the mood right now? you-you left and i didn’t know if i was even gonna hear from you again.”

you weren’t even surprised that you began to cry, all of the emotions, anger hurt sadness from over the last few weeks coming up at once. you continued to curse him out as quiet as you could, reminding yourself you can’t fully freak out for the sake of your son. but you were hurt, so hurt you felt it in your chest.

but Konig didn’t say anything. he simply listened, his still drunken eyes locked onto yours. he was hurt to. he was hurt that he had hurt you. hurt that you were hurting. but he did it for you. for your, -no- both yours and his son …for your new family.

when you had finished cursing him out, tears still streaming down your face, all he did was kiss you. he pressed his lips to yours, sliding his tongue on easily. his other hand, grabbed your hip gently, pulling it up to meet his. and of course, you kissed him back.

as soon as he got your response, he kissed you harder. his grip on your hip tightened, a low growl coming from him. “i.. i hate you.” you said in between kisses, warning a soft chuckle from him.

he slowly pulled away from you, pulling your bottom lip with him. “yea? you hate me?” he asked, taking his hand from your hip, down to your thigh. grasping it, he pushed it into a butterfly pose, releasing your wrists with his other hand and hooking his pointer finger around your panties.

he had pretended to notice the lack of pants you’ve worn the whole night, nothing but a loose long sleeve on your body. he noticed the french tip toenails too, his favorite. if he hadn’t fucked up by, in your words, ghosting you, he would’ve already been working a third orgasm out of you.

his thumb grazed your cunt, before running his thumb through your lips. you let out a soft moan, your hips jerking back slightly as you remembered this was the first time you were gonna cum since he touched you. period. you were so hurt and confused, an orgasm was the last thing you wanted, remembering how much better it felt when it was Konig making you cum.

“doesn’t feel like you hate me, prinzessin” he would whisper, circling his thumb around your pulsing hole. he would moan softly, a smirk on his lips as he slowly dragged his thumb back up to your clit, massaging small circles against it as a gentle pace. he didn’t want you to cum just yet, but he could tell you wanted to.

your legs, quick to shake, parted more for him, your hips thrusting up. the pit of your stomach turned, your finger nails digging into Konigs poor muscles. but he didn’t care, not one bit. he loved how he’s only just started touching you, and you’re already almost on the edge.

his eyes wandered down to your breasts, noticing how pointy your nipples looked. and, he wanted them.

as his thumb kept massaging your thumping clit, he leaned down to the end of your shirt, gabbing the hem of it and pulling it up with his teeth slowly, taking in every inch of your body up until your breasts. that’s when he locks eyes with you.

“o-oh God..” you whimpered, grinding yourself onto him more, needing more.

he let your shirt go, licking his lips as he looks at your bare breasts. “play with them.. you wanna cum play with those pretty nipples.” he said, moving his thumb away from

almost immediately your hands went from his arms to your nipples, rolling the sensitive buds in your fingers. he moaned softly, placing his thumb right back on your clit. your eyes rolled back, the amount of stimulation your body was getting becoming almost too much.

meanwhile in konigs pants, he was sure he had potentially creamed his pants as soon as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, but he wanted to believe he wasn’t a loser and it was only pre cum. a lot of pre cum.

“open for me baby come here.. open that mouth.” he grabbed your chin with his free hand, hooking his thumb around your bottom row teeth, forcing your mouth open. almost simultaneously, he slid his noticeably empty ring finger inside your cunt, earning a surprised moan from you.

“oh this pussy is so tight baby it’s been waiting for me huh?” he moaned, his eyebrows furrowing as your wetness coated his finger within two pumps. “nobody else has touched it right? you’ve been a good girl and waited for me hm?” he asked, sliding in a second finger as you gave him a loud yes.

your stomach was doing turns, your orgasm coming quickly and you had no intention of loosing it. the way konigs thumb continues to rub on your pulsing clit as his fingers worked their way in and out of you, it was too much truthfully.

konig felt you clenching around him, you whimpers turning into long whines. more “pre cum” filled his boxers, surely leaving a large wet spot right around his red tip.

konigs hand pressed against your mouth, leaning down to your ear. “ cum prinzessin… you deserve it, you deserve it..” he praised, keeping that same pace as you shook beneath him, Konig desperately dry humping be bed between your legs, making himself cum, yes cum, in his pants yet again.

your eyes fluttered shut, konigs hand coming off of your mouth. his head rested in your chest as he kept his fingers inside of you, slowly pumping them as he too shut his eyes closed.

he was drunk. so drunk that he believed that he indeed had the energy to make you both cum again.

he slid his fingers out your still throbbing cunt, smiling at the small whine you make. he pulls himself off the bed, looking down at your lifeless body. it made him hard yet again, the feeling of the cold, sticky substance in his pants making him even more hard.

he pulled his pants down, taking note of the amount of his own cum covering up to the middle of his cock, his tip angry red. tossing them on the ground, he made work of your panties, tossing them somewhere in the same direction oh his.

crawling on top of you, your eyes slowly peeled open, looking down to his horse third leg cock only inches away from your hole, his tip kissing your sticky lips.

“koni i..” you swallowed, your mouth dry, “i cant.” you said, shaking your head. he laughed, grabbing his cock as he dragged his tip in between your lips. “off my fingers alone i’ve fucked you too well? you must’ve really missed me liebling.” he chuckled, pressing his tip to your hole.

it wasn’t at all that you were worn out. or maybe you were, he should give you a break! it’s been so long since you’ve had an orgasm at all. it was the fact you could never take him fully sitting up!

when you and Konig first had sex, you asked him if you could strictly be on top, and he understood 100 percent. “if i ever get you on your back, would you stop me?” he would ask, his hands on your hips as you bounced up and down on him, just enough for him to just barely be hitting your gspot.

you cant remember what you said to that truthfully, both you and konig so drunk, you were surely over your paid time.

slowly, be pushed his tip in, gasping as his tip plugged right into your hole. he pulled his hips back, and then forward again, just enough to be fucking his tip in and out of you alone. the mix of his cum and yours was enough to get an orgasm out of him, but he refused. he wanted to feel what all of you felt like.

he slid back out, repositioning himself as he grabbed the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer. your eyes watched as his cock rested on your lower stomach, his tip reaching the top of your bellybutton. “k-koni please just do it how we usually do.” you asked, pleaded really, taking note of how he was dragging his tongue across his lips, smirking at how far he was gonna fuck into you.

“it’s okay my love… m’gonna train this pussy to take all of me.” he said, taking your hand in his as he smiled down at your panicked face.

with his free hand he grabbed his cock, again pushing himself into you up until his tip. “you’re so wet.. it won’t even hurt.” he said, not even looking at you and instead where your bodies connected.

slowly, inch by inch, he pushed into you, stopping every time you winced out. it was going good until he he began to get greedy. he was impatient and truthfully, just wanted to absolutely use you like a flimsy little pocket pussy he bought off a sketchy website. the liquor in his body also had something to do with it.

his hand pressed your face to the side, his other hand holding your hip to the bed as his hips began moving back and forth, almost with no time to spare. his eyes crossed, feeling your warm, wet gummy walls sucking his cock back in, his tip never leaving your pussy. he was in heaven, his mouth hanging open, tongue slightly hanging out as drool collected at the tip of his tongue, slowly drooling down from him.

you, on the other hand, were fighting for your life. it felt good, way too good. of course, his tip hitting at your cervix felt like hell. but it felt so good at the same time. “k-koni it h..it hurts.” you panted, your hands gripping his wrist to move his hand off your head.

and he did. to instead wrap it right around your throat. he pulled you up by your neck, connecting your lips together. drool sept from both you guys’ lips, the both of you moaning into each others mouths as his cock abused your hole.

“i-i’m all the way inside you.. fuck i’m gonna c-cum so deep… so deep inside this pussy.” he moaned out, his eyes hooded as he kept his grip on your throat.

his other hand remained on your hip, making sure you weren’t moving at all as his hips rutted into you. “i-it hurts.. please slow-“ but konig pressed the hand that was on your throat back onto your mouth, pressing your head into the mattress. “shut the fuck up.” he would mutter, pushing your legs up to your chest.

immediately, his hips would slam onto your ass, his balls making contact with your skin. he was gonna cum without even having time to react, the feeling of your wet, warmth was too much for him. it was something he hadn’t felt in ages.

he had never told you, but him and his wife’s marriage truly was done years ago. but for the sake of kids and work. he stayed. the first time you both had sex, was the first time in 10 years he had sex. his wife didn’t touch him. and slowly over the last two years, stopped sleeping in the same room as him.

“l-liebling… oh i’m gonna cum in you i’m gonna cum.” he whimpered, looking down at your face. your eyes were squeezed shut, your legs shaking violently as your second orgasm made its way through your body. “w-wait for me my love wait for me.” he panted, quickly wrapping your legs around his waist, his hands on your hips.

“i c- i cant.” you cried out, your fingers rushing to your clit. but he slapped your hand away, earning a cry from you. “i know i know i know.. i’m so close my love i’m s-so… oh fuck.”

his body hovered over you, pressing your hips further to the bed as his jaw fell open. “come liebling come right now come… oh-oh yes~” his hips gave you one final thrust, his tip hitting right at your cervix as his come poured deep into you. your legs shook around him, your back arching up and off the bed as you came and pulsed around his own pulsing sex, your fingers digging into his back and dragging down as you both came over the high.

slowly he rocked his hips, giving small whines at his cock kept pulsing more come from him. “o…oh i cant breathe.” he mumbled, collapsing on top of you.

you both stayed like this, the sound of rain slowly starting to come down. you had begun to fall asleep until Konig spoke into your neck. “marry me.” was all he would say.

that’s when you remembered his empty ring finger. “i already have a ring at our new home. we can’t have it yet i’m still.. still in the process of things..but i promise you by the end of this year.. i’ll sign any papers i’ll take your son in as my own i’ll raise him like my own and. and well even have a new baby too.”

he say up, now looking at you. when you open your mouth to respond, all you could do was cry. and he didn’t even need you to say any words for him to know you meant yes.

would you guys believe me is i said i wrote this whole smoking a joint AGAHAHAG

[mistymisfit]

first off, I absolutely adore your writing!! It’s got me kicking my feet and giggling.

Can I please request a domestic Dick x reader where they’re having an at home date night (like watching a movie, doing face masks, cooking together - any of those kinda things) and it keeps getting interrupted by Dicks siblings?

thank youuuuu <3 and sorry this took too long (and if the ending feels rushed), hope you like it

warnings: no plot just fluff and batfamily cameos, established relationship, a few dirty jokes, suggestive content, Tim getting traumatized.

wc: 2,2k

You smile to yourself, finally you get to have a normal night with you boyfriend. He's staying at home, having a date night at home, ah the wonders of a dislocated shoulder. His injury would only put him out of action for a couple of weeks since it wasn't that bad, but you would still try to enjoy the time you get with him--even if hes puffing and huffing in annoyance. He's been a vigilante since he was 12 and he doesn't know anything else, so he's especially reluctant to accept the time off. Lucky for him, he's quickly convinced when you tell him how much he deserves a break and that you'll take care of him until he feels better.

"Here, just make sure it doesn't burn" You signal, putting the spoon on his good hand and letting him take care of the sauce.

"Sure" His eyes follow you as you move around his --not so big-- apartment kitchen. You wore one of his t-shirts, why he owned merch of himself was beside you but you couldn't ignore the smile that appeared on his face every time you wore it."So what are the plans for tonight?"

"We're having dinner, then we'll do some face masks," you list off "we could bake brownies if you're up for dessert, and there's this new movie I want to watch"

"Of course I'm up for dessert" He jokes, catching your arm when you step closer to him.

He has a devilish grin when he kisses you, forgetting he was supposed to be cooking dinner with you. You let him distract you, but not before your hand quietly lowers the stove to minimum heat behind him. The spoon falls, left behind as he walks you until you're trapped between the kitchen counter and him. The hand that's not caught in the arm sling cups your face, getting more demanding with the kiss. You sit on the kitchen counter before he asks and he nods, grateful. You're not sure he could lift you up with one arm, even if he's proven the past few days he didn't need both of them to manhandle you as he usually does. The perks of training your entire life.

There's a noise outside the window right when you wrap your legs around him. At first, you both ignore it, but as it repeats again and again, you realize it was not a random noise but someone knocking. There's not that many people who would be able to knock on an eighth story window.

"I'll go," He sighs, reluctantly letting go of you.

You nod, picking up the spoon and washing it on the sink as you try to listen to the hushed conversation. You can tell it was one of his siblings, even if you could only hear half of what they say. So when you finally take a look, hiding behind a wall, you are not surprised to see Damian in his Robin suit in the living room.

"Hi Damian, isn't it a bit too early to be Robin?" You wave

"Richard, you did not tell me that your beloved was here" He recriminates; you think it's adorable to see such a cute thing talking like an old man. He greets you, calling you by your last name as he usually does. Then his nose scrunches up,as if sniffing the air like a cat "are you making...?"

His question is not even finished as he walks past his older brother, who rolls his eyes saying"Yes, it's their gnocchi recipe, yes, you may stay for dinner"

You pout, silently telling him he's cute so he should be more forgiving towards his younger brother. He loves that you like his sibling, the one he raised for a while, but he also hates that all the little demon has to do is make a puppy face and you'd agree to anything.

Later in the evening, you found yourselves hyper focused on a backgammon game. You were both sitting on carpet in the living room, the game set on the coffee table. It was a hilarious sight for you, him competitive as always with his hair pushed back by one of your headbands and brows so furrowed you could see them under his blue face mask. Which he only agreed to do once you sat on his lap and offered to put it on for him; suddenly, all his complaints about "I'll break out" or "I don't like the way it feels on me" silenced. You know he secretly loves doing skincare with you, he just likes what you do to convince him more.

"Stop staring, you're trying to distract me"

"Am not!" You gently shoved his healthy arm, pretending to be offended at the accusation.

"Yes, you are" He childishly sticks his tongue out before moving his piece. You huff, taking the dice and rolling them in your hand but not letting go of them yet.

He moves closer to you, his breath fanning over your neck before you ask; "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you don't cheat"

"And how would I do that?" You turn your head lightly to look at him.

"That's why I'm looking at you" He shrugs

"Sure," You smile, amused,"and you're not projecting onto me, Richard"

He puts his hand over his chest, as if holding his heart, and pretends to be deeply disturbed by your words. Even going as far as falling on the carpet behind you. Done with his distracting antics, you finally roll the dice. Your lips tug in a big smile when you see the numbers.

"I got two sixes," you announce, and he quickly gets up.

"No way,"

"Yes way" This was your turn of sticking your tongue out to him.

He can't believe how much you're kicking his ass when he was the one who taught you how to play. He wants so badly to kiss that smug grin off your face, and he is about to turn your focus from moving the pieces when someone else surprises you both.

"How old are you two?" Steph jokes, closing the window she came in through

"Hi Steph," you smile "I'm winning"

She steps closer to high-five you as he shakes his head no, disapproving your celebration before adding; "Only 'cause you're cheating" as he gets up.

"Can I have your files on the Riddler, pretty please?" Steph asks, getting to the point of her visit.

He warns you not to touch anything before he gets up to find his secured laptop on his safe. He's going to be out of action for a while, so it's not like he could after him, might as well give them to someone else. When he returns a few minutes later with a flash drive full of the information she needs, he finds you both gossiping on his couch way too comfortably. You gasp as she tells you something, Steph clearly agreeing with your reaction. He waits, he doesn't want to interrupt just yet. His heart feels so full when he sees you get along so well with his family that he wants to save the moment for a little more.

"You got those files?" She asks when she finally notices him standing on the doorway outside the bedroom.

"Yeah," He throws the flash drive and she catches with impeccable reflexes"you're welcome"

"Thanks," She smiles before heading back out the window and telling you;"Kick his ass in that game"

You smile and promise you will, and he looks down to realize just how really over it was for him. So when you're distracted waving at Steph, he kicks the table to move the set. You turn back to see him, and before you can even get mad, he tells you he wants to cuddle up and watch a movie.

You let his little plan work, but not without calling him a sore loser. He pats the space next to him on the couch with a proud grin as he turns the TV on. You roll your eyes, settling down next to his good side so he can wrap an arm around you the way he likes. He may be a sore loser, but you're the one letting him get away with it. Halfway through the movie, you pause to take off the face-masks and catch him staring a little too much in the mirror.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," You raise an eyebrow, not believing in his reply"I don't have eye bags and I'm not used to it"

"Duh, you've been sleeping at night like a normal person recently"

"I'll give you a reason to stay up all night" He bites back, his hand skillfully landing on your hips to make sure you stay in place as he takes a step to stand behind you.

"Come on, I wanna see how it ends" You're fast to move out of his hold, God knows how easily you fall for his charm every time.

You cuddle back on the couch hitting play on the horror movie you watched again, the lights were off to help the mood. He liked when you flinched as held him tighter even if the movie was scaring him more than you. You relax with your head on his shoulder, both arms wrapped around his as his sat on your thigh.

"See? Your skin is so soft" You smile, a hand reaching to caress his cheek.

"You're the one who wanted to watch the movie," He puffs "now I wanna know if they exorcise the demon"

You roll your eyes, shifting back your attention to the screen. The movie was building up to a jump scare, the tense music and ambient, something scary was bound to pop up in seconds. What neither of you expected was that the scare was going to come from outside the movie. Cass stepped in front of the TV to get your attention, and you both screamed. Dick could swear the stitches in her mask moved up in a smile as you both held tightly into each other.

"Steph came by and left like an hour ago," He says, once he regains his composure. He's aware now of how down his guard was, it was not normal for him to be startled this easily.

She hums and nods, leaving as fast as she appeared. Giving you both a wave before jumping off your window. Now you're too freaked to go back to the movie. Suddenly, watching horror movies in the dark didn't seem like a good idea anymore, especially when he had a plethora of younger siblings willing to break in at any given moment. His hand rubs your back gently, and you giggle once the adrenaline worn down over how silly it was. He laughs with you, telling you that he's never going to live it down and how they're going to make fun as soon as he sees them again. You smile before pressing a kiss to his lips, he looked too handsome when he laughed.

"I don't want to watch the movie anymore"

"Okay, I can lock the window," he offers, grinning when you nod.

Some time later, you were still on the couch, though now your clothes were scattered around the living room. A sitcom plays instead as you rest on top of him with your head on his chest, the blanket covering until your waist while he has his arms on top of you, his hand tracing circles on your bare back. He was still all smiles and loopy from you riding him, maybe being injured had a good side. Maybe Gotham could afford not having Nightwing every once in a while.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You,"He replies, flustering you and making you hide your face in his chest. "maybe I could stay in with you"

You lift your head to look at him, eyes shining with joy before he says; "Once a month" You pout in response, even if it's better than nothing.

"Maybe I convince you to once a week" You flirt, your lips finding the spot in his neck he likes having kissed way too much.

"Once every two weeks," He smirks, his hand going from your back to your hips again.

"Dick!" A younger voice yells from a different room in the apartment, "Why did you give Steph your files?! I called dibs on them when you got inj-"

He's quick to react, pulling the blanket higher to cover you. He is almost as fast to scold his younger brother; asking how did he come in as the other profusely apologizes, covering his eyes and turning his back. Your face heats up, you have never been more embarrassed in your entire life. you hide under the blanket as he reaches for his underwear, which luckily was close enough that he didn't have to get up to get it. If any humor was left in you, you'd laugh at him showing Tim the way out as he teaches him a lesson on basic boundaries and the consequences of breaking into someone's place. You would've laughed at Tim's comment of needing therapy to delete the image from his head if it happened to anyone else.

"I'm never showing my face to your family again" You say once he comes back and he laughs, clearly taking this way better than you.

[cherrrydragon]

➤ reading between the lines

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SUMMARY ↳ Jason Todd loves nothing more than the sight of you with a book. The book's tension builds, your fingers gripping the pages a little tighter as the protagonist faces a crucial moment. You barely register the sound of the water shutting off or Jason stepping out of the bathroom. He stands in the doorway, towel slung low around his waist, shaking his head with an amused smirk. He slowly takes steps toward you, right up until his knees hit the mattress. He leans down, his arms coming to cage you. Finally, you really take notice of him. “Hi, Jay.” pairing: jason todd x fem!reader warnings: smut tags/notes: oral sex (fem receiving), domestic fluff, jason might be ooc sorry, lets just pretend its a less traumatized version of him wc: 2k

You think Jason has a thing for you and books.

You mean together, of course. Jason Todd’s affinity for literature is well known, and so is his affection for you. But you can see the way his lips curl up when he sees you curled up on the couch reading, wrapped in his favorite blanket.

The soft glow of the lamp casts a warm light over the room, highlighting the way Jason leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. He’s always been drawn to those quiet moments, watching you lose yourself in a world of words.

“Is that another tragic romance?” he teases, stepping further into the room. You glance up, catching his playful gaze.

“Not as tragic as your face.”

“Ouch,” he groans dramatically, clutching his chest. He falls onto you, plopping his full body weight and nearly crushing you. He buries his face in your neck and presses a chaste kiss there.

You huff and half-heartedly shove him away. “You’ll make me lose my place!”

“That’s why you should use those bookmarks I got you, honey.” He lifts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Bookmarks are for amateurs, Jay.” You gesture to the stack of books on the coffee table, a mixture of dog-eared pages and hastily folded corners.

He grimaces at the sight. “I should break up with you.”

“Who would read to you, then?”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Touché.” He presses a quick kiss to your lips and shifts so as to pull you into leaning on him. He wraps the blanket around both of you, plucking the book out of your hands in spite of your protests. “Can’t let you ruin this anymore. Lemme read to you, hm?”

You rest your head on his shoulder. “You can’t do it justice.”

“I’ve got the voice of a poet,” he retorts, arm wrapping around you. His voice is low, intimate and for your ears only. You move to rest on his chest so you can feel the way his chest rumbles as he speaks.

As he reads, you let your eyes drift shut, the sound of his voice becoming a soothing backdrop. Jason leans his down, pressing a light kiss on your head and effectively muffling his voice. Each word he reads intertwines with his heartbeat, spinning a cocoon of intimacy that cradles the both of you.

You notice the way he plops a bookmark on the page you were on just before you fall asleep.

“You’re killing me, honey,” Jason groans over the phone.

The smell of a home-cooked meal fills your apartment as you shoulder your phone. “Come home, then,” you chuckle.

“I swear I can smell it through the phone. Why’re you always cooking something good when I’m away, huh?”

You move to grab a pan. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be away so much.”

“Gotta do my job, honey,” he sighs. “To keep my beautiful girlfriend safe so she can continue to spoil me with her delicious cooking.”

You laugh, stirring the simmering sauce. “It’s just pasta, Jay.”

“Yeah, but it’s your pasta. That makes it gourmet.”

You can’t help but smile at his praise. “Dork. I’ll save you a plate. Just don’t take too long, or I might eat it all.”

“Don’t you dare!” His voice rises in mock horror. “I’ll be home soon, I promise. Just a couple more things to wrap up. You got dessert for me?”

You scoff playfully. “Pick it up yourself. I’ve got a book to finish.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawls, then his tone softens. “I’ll get you your favorite. Only the best for my girl.”

You exchange sweet goodbyes before hanging up, the warmth of Jason’s words lingers in the air, wrapping around you like the blanket he often claims. You focus on the pasta simmering on the stove, the fragrant aroma filling the kitchen. Your mind drifts to Jason, as it does a lot, and you can’t keep the stupid grin of your face as you finish cooking.

After plating the pasta, you set the table, stealing glances at the clock as you wait for him to come home. You flip through the book, and allow yourself to get lost in the words. The minutes stretch, the kitchen filled with nothing but your muttered words as you read. You’re just about to take a distracted bite of your food when there’s knocks on the door, the specific pattern Jason went over with you.

Jason steps in, Red Hood helmets already off and perched under his arm, a bag carried by his other. You perk up, unable to suppress the smile that spreads across your face. He steps in, shaking off the remnants of his day, and his eyes light up at the sight of the table set for two. “You’re making me fall in love with you all over again, you know that?”

You laugh, stepping forward to meet him in a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he greets back one you separate. He places the bag on the table, the logo of your favorite sweets brand greeting you. “As promised.”

“You spoil me,” you hum happily, parroting his earlier words. “Everything go okay?”

Jason nods, pulling out your chair for you before taking his own seat. He grabs his fork with an eager shine in his eye that makes you snort. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Jason, it’s that he loves to eat.

“Usual stuff.” He keeps it brief, for your sake. He doesn’t like you to hear about the stuff he deals with on patrol, once said, “pretty things like you shouldn’t worry about things like that.” Flattering, but it’s whatever.

“Dickhead mentioned this new bakery that opened up, though you might like it,” he mumbles, voice obscured by his chewing.

You smile. “Sure, let's make it a date.”

Jason goes on to mention little things about his day, and you do listen… at first. You love hearing Jason talk, and you love hearing about his day but… you also really wanna finish this book. It starts as subtle glances to the open pages. Then, it goes to skim reading while nodding along to his words. Now, you’re full on reading and have tuned him out. Whoops.

Jason pauses mid-sentence, a playful glint in his eye as he watches you. “Baby.”

“Hm?”

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, smirking.

You look up, feigning innocence. “Of course. You just mentioned the arcade you went to with Roy.”

He raises a brow and you know he doesn’t believe you. Damn detective skills. If he feels any type of way because of it he lets it go and continues talking. This time you do better to try and pay attention, but when he leaves to go to the bathroom your eyes wander right back onto the pages.

“You’re killing me again, honey.” Shit, he came back fast. To his credit he doesn’t look annoyed, just fond. Still, you feel guilty.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” you groan, shutting the book and throwing it across the room. Miraculously, it lands on the couch.

Jason raises a brow. “Nice throw.”

“Jay,” you whine. He snorts and comes around you, laying a hand comfortingly on your shoulder. “It’s so good. You’ll love it when I finish.”

“I’m not mad, honey.” He leans down and presses a kiss against your forehead, whispering, “Besides, I think it’s hot.”

You blink, watching him sit back down as if he said nothing at all. Well, that’s probably all you’re going to get out of him about it.

You are one of the many people guilty of not knowing when to put down a good read.

In your defense, however, it’s not bedtime yet. Bedtime is whenever you and Jason are in bed, and he still has to shower. Until then, you’re content to let him take his time, as you’re completely taken by your book. The gentle hum of the water running in the background almost becomes white noise to the whirlwind of words in your head.

The book's tension builds, your fingers gripping the pages a little tighter as the protagonist faces a crucial moment. You barely register the sound of the water shutting off or Jason stepping out of the bathroom. He stands in the doorway, towel slung low around his waist, shaking his head with an amused smirk.

He slowly takes steps toward you, right up until his knees hit the mattress. He leans down, his arms coming to cage you. Finally, you really take notice of him. “Hi, Jay.”

“Hi, honey.” His eyes sparkle with amusement as he takes you in. He smooches your cheek before his hands come to grasp at your hips, pulling you to sit at the edge of the bed. You don’t break your focus from your book (if we’re being honest, you’re kind of used to it…)

He knees at your shared bed and spreads your legs. You don’t pay too much mind, even when the feeling of your underwear sliding down your legs sends a familiar shiver down your spine. It is only when a hot wet feel slides against your core that you’re snapped back into reality.

Your body reacts instinctively, squeezing your thighs around Jason’s head. “Jay!” you yelp.

He responds with a hum that sends a buzz through your body. His hands massage your skin as he kisses around your thighs. Your heartbeat picks up and your chest starts to heave. Your fingers tremble around the pages.

A hand leaves your pressure book to grip Jason’s hair. Your hips begin to rock against his face. Your breathing becomes more labored. His thumb begins to swirl your clit, stimulating you to your very core. The room around you fades away, leaving only the rising tension in your body. 

Jason's hands move up your thighs, his fingers digging gently into your skin as he holds you in place. His tongue darts in and out, teasing you with gentle licks and soft kisses. You moan, your head falling back against the bed as you give in to the pleasure.

Suddenly, the book slips from your fingers, falling to the floor with a soft thud. You don't even notice, too caught up in the sensations coursing through your body. Jason’s hands pull you impossibly closer, caught up in your pleasure.

"Jason," you moan, voice laced with desire.

It seems that your voice sets him off, because his tongue starts moving faster along with his fingers to bring you to your peak. Your body trembles, and your hips rock against his face, seeking more of the pleasure he's giving you. Your toes curl, back arching against the bed as your moans get louder and louder.

White fills your vision, mouth falling open as a final whine leaves your lips. You take deep breaths as you come down from your high, thighs twitching. Jason’s eyes meet yours, slowly rising from his knees to meet you. His lips brush against yours in a gentle manner. You feel yourself melt once again, your body aligning itself with him.

“Good?” he mumbles against your lips.

“Good,” you affirm, breathing him in.

“Good,” he nods, breaking away from the kiss, before meeting you back for more. You smile against him as the two of you exchange chaste kisses. Your legs fall open to welcome him closer. You whimper at the feel of his bulge against you.

“Jay,” you moan, grinding against him.

You feel his smirk. “Yeah?”

“Please…” He’s only wearing a towel, all you have to do is hook a finger around it and pull…

You’ve never felt such disappointment like when he pulls away from you, tightening the towel. He bends down, picking up your forgotten book, and strolling out of the room.

“Wh- Jay!”

“You said I’d like it, might as well start now. Who knows when you’ll put this thing down again,” he calls from the hallway.

“Jason!”

“This is payback!”

notes: kinda hate this but what can ya do 🔥

[aimedis]

lovely & vincent headcanons 🧛⚡

“god, your kisses are fucking nuclear...”

for lovely's birthday one year, vincent bought them their dream car. he took them to the dealership and asked, "if you could have any of these cars, which one would it be?". he let them point at the car he knew they've always wanted, dropped the keys in their hand and said, "it's all yours." (lovely was in shock for days)

lovely always finds themselves falling asleep quite often around vincent. it's because they spend a lot of time in fight or flight mode subconsciously and he just makes them feel safe

literally saying "vincent, i'm tired" every time there's five seconds of silence

lovely and vincent are both horror movie/game wimps (grown ass vampires scared of pixelated ghosts)

vincent is always incredibly empathetic with other vampire's turnings (especially lovely's)

vincent was 100% ready to let lovely go if they didn't want to be turned. he would rather grieve them than have them talk to him the way he talked to william

their song is rewrite the stars by james arthur & anne-marie

lovely and vincent are always always around each other. where one is, the other is not far away even if you can't see them both (aside from work and stuff ofc)

they are always looking for one another in a crowd when they're rarely apart for two seconds

always touching too, even if they're arguing or not speaking to each other they're always holding hands or touching some part of the other's body

they wear each other's crowns sometimes

vincent is always slapping lovely's ass. and whenever lovely gets caught off guard, they release electricity from their body (even post turning) so vincent is always getting shocked but he refuses to stop

vincent's favourite hobby is kissing all over lovely's face or being corny to them (especially in public) just to embarrass them (because they get embarrassed very easily)

lovely hates it but they can't help but laugh when they're done hitting him

lovely loves ignoring vincent as a joke. not responding when he's being clingy or talking to them, pushing his face away when he's trying to kiss them, and saying "what's that noise?"

vincent enjoys finding new ways to get their attention, both innocent and nefarious

whenever lovely has nightmares, vincent always wakes up before they do. he can just feel their distress like it's his own, not even just because of the maker/progeny bond they have

vincent puts lovely's shoes and jewellery on for them whenever they're going out for date night, outright refuses to let them do it for themselves because he loves doing it so much

in turn, lovely always does vincent's eyeliner for him on a daily basis (he says they do it better than he ever could) ((bonus if lovely can never do eyeliner on themselves))

lovely and vincent are so obsessed with each other, they literally get jealous so easily. not because they don't trust each other, they just hate the idea of anyone touching/talking to their partner the way that they do

when lovely gets really excited they either start hitting vincent a billion times or they jump into his arms and he has to spin them around to get the zoomies out while they both giggle loudly

they love playing minecraft and animal crossing together in bed

after the summit, lovely was reliving the trauma that came with watching another vampire get their head ripped off/adam's name being brought up and they had a panic attack in vincent's arms the second the two could get a moment alone

the entire time the queen of the house of baz was talking to vincent, lovely was just staring at the ground while squeezing vincent's hand as they tried to fight off the panic. but when vincent finally got away from people, he pulled them outside to the car to get some fresh air while they cried and shook in his arms

their way of dealing with traumatic events/stress is just holding each other for a long time after it's over

vincent definetly gives lovely princess treatment (gender neutral) ((opening doors for them, putting on their shoes, foot massages, kissing them all over etc.))

vincent carries lovely around the house more than he lets them walk unless they have people over (they’d never walk anywhere again if vincent had his way)

they rarely ever ever fight. during one of their first and fights, lovely started crying because they got overwhelmed and vincent immediately backed up and started apologizing (and that only made them cry harder because they've never really been apologized to before)

vincent felt really bad for making them cry and held them while they did because that was the only thing they wanted (they finished the argument later without any tears) 

now, they argue once in a blue moon whenever they can't probably regulate their feelings about the situation. but they usually make up within ten minutes

vincent tickles lovely's sides whenever they're stretching (lovely is crazy ticklish)

lovely before they got turned was really prone to nosebleeds

lovely calls vincent ‘lovebug’ 

lovely loves painting vincent's nails (even though the smell is overpowering for both of them, it’s something lovely enjoys doing so he likes it too) 

lovely kissed vincent in the car before some fancy clan gathering for a little too long and he got hard immediately so they had to wait in the car for it to go down before they could go inside. lovely was making fun of him the whole time

vincent used to heal pre-turning lovely’s every cut and bruise even before they themselves noticed they had it (he still heals them if they haven't fed recently and can't heal as fast)

vincent really really likes pining lovely to walls (they can barely walk down the hall without him zipping up to them and pressing their hips into the wall before kissing them hard) 

vincent and lovely are both korean (they also both did dance and figure skating)

vampire don’t get sick easily (it’s actually quite hard for them to get sick) but when they do it’s bad. vincent and lovely are both babies with being sick

vincent and lovely cry about everything together (happy? tears. sad? tears. angry? tears. excited? tears. bored? you guessed it, tears.)

lovely's favourite thing ever is how dazed vincent gets whenever he says they smell good (which is basically all the time) he's literally sniff kissing them all over and pulling them closer to him

vincent loves kissing lovely more than anything ever

blowing each other kisses whenever one of them leaves the room

vincent was away for two days on a work trip and everyone who saw them said they had never looked so sad

clingy mfers

both of their love languages are physical touch and gift giving (+ quality time)

they bicker a lot about the most random things

always texting each other random little updates with no context like "porter's pissing me off" "what the actual fuck does _____ mean?" "are you coming home yet? hurry up" "i'm tired" "i need to punch someone" and sometimes it doesn't even lead to an actual conversation

always on the phone if one of them is away, sometimes not even talking or looking at their phone but it's comforting to know that the person they love is with them in some way

vincent took lovely to italy for their birthday because they mentioned wanting to go there all the time

lovely rented a huge mansion in the mountains for vincent's birthday so they could just. relax. and get away from everyone

they're THAT rich couple

[poppy-metal]

the boys not men……. thinking….. having the most traumatic break up of your life and deciding you have to reconnect with nature so you go to stay with your relative who owns a ranch out in the country. art works there as a farmhand, your uncles right hand man. worked there since he was a boy, grew into a man. a real fine man with a long strong body accustomed to hard labour, made by it and for it. he don’t think nothing of you when you first come in. city girl, spoiled, precious. hair too nice, nails too pretty. he don’t think much of city girls. you’re pretty. very. but pretty won’t pay the bills, and he’s not risking his lively hood on you. you’re miserable. inconsolable. you thought your ex was the love of your life. you don’t speak to anyone for the first few days, your uncle just happy to have you around, so art only catches glimpses of you off the veranda, wrapped in a shawl, looking forlorn like a lady in the old black and white pictures they play at the drive in. each time you lock eyes you turn with a flourish and go inside, like you were always a figment of his imagination and you were never really there. just a pretty ghost. as the days go by your uncle introduces the two of you, telling art to show you the ropes of what he does. good to keep busy he says. art holds out his long hand for you to shake, and you take it gingerly, but his fingers grip your hand tight enough that you grip his back and really shake. an electric chill runs through you. over the next few days, art tries to teach you things but you periodically break down, over something in some convoluted way relating back to your ex. arts surprisingly good at comforting you, but that’s not what he really wants to do. he wants to show you that men, real men, don’t make girls like you cry. from sadness at least.

RAHHHHHHH need country art on his knees eating my cunt the way none of those city boys do - long laps to your pussy like he's truly enjoying himself down there and he is - broad shoulders holding your legs apart on either side of him - he makes you watch the way his lips seal around your pussy - can fit the whole thing in his mouth - lips and all - makes you leak into mouth an embarrassing amount, but he just sucks it down. languidly and lazy like he has all the time in the world to spend between your legs - eating you until you're all puffy and swollen and your little clit is damn near ready to fall off she's so sore from his tongue running circles over her again and again -

you think you're done when he's made you cum twice down his throat - when the tears staining your cheeks aren't from your dumb ex back home but from how good art donaldsons mouth is - but he tells you that's just the beginning, sweetheart. licks you off his lips like you're honey and kisses your tremblin' thigh.

"nowhere near done with you," is what he says, dragging your legs off his work bench, until your ass is hanging off the edge. forces you to wrap them around his trim waist as he reaches down to unbuckle his belt. the heat in his eyes enough to melt your body right to liquid. "got something else this little pussy needs." and you've never been impressed by a cock until you'd seen his. flushed and hard in his hand - pink tipped and swollen. you think he had it about right, you do need him - how is it that he knows what you need better than you ever could? is that what makes him a man?

regardless - you're biting your lip and watching him feed himself inside you - your tender cunt sensitive but greedy to pull him in - "just like that." he groans when the head slips in, slick and easy - "look at you take it - you ever wanted a dick this much?"

and you have to be honest. you haven't. and so you shake your head and he groans - and you whine when he rocks even deeper - sinks more inside. the spread of him so thick inside you. fuller than you've ever been before. makes your toes curl right up.

"and you won't again." art tells you. "cause whenever you need it, you come to me. understand?"

this pussy is his to take care of from now on, he says, and you can do nothing but nod and let widen your legs to allow him even deeper inside yourself - ready to give him whatever he wants of you, if it means he'll keep making you feel this fucking good.

[frvnkcastles]

THE BEAST INSIDE OF ME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank doesn’t think he deserves you.

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped, reader has unspecified trauma, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: This is 1000% inspired by Type O Negative’s ”Love You to Death” which is one of my fave songs and in my opinion very Frank-coded (maybe that’s why I love it so much). Hope you enjoy!

Frank didn’t deserve you. That was what he firmly believed — that you were too good and he was too fucked up to be worthy of you, that everything he touched fell apart and he didn’t want that to happen to you. He wanted nothing but the best for you, and he just couldn’t believe that he could be that.

But when you were tiptoeing the line between friendship and dating, he allowed himself to be selfish. He tried to let go of his fears and give himself a chance to be happy. You were the first person after Maria he thought could actually make that come true, the first person after her that gave him hope and a glimpse of what it was like to care for someone again. Getting to know you was exhilarating, the thrill of falling in love caught him by surprise but for the time being, he didn’t resist the feeling.

Then the fateful night of you opening up to him came, and he realized that he’d just end up hurting you.

”So, yeah, I don’t really have a great track record with loved ones. It’s hard for me to trust people, but I really like you, Frank”, you shared with him, having explained your family history and past relationships that had all ended up poorly — you seemed to be a magnet for bad people, but Frank had made you believe there was someone for you, too. He made you feel special, in a way that no one ever had before, and you couldn’t help but smile as you gazed at him from your end of the couch.

He shifted uncomfortably on the cushions, casting an ashamed look down at his calloused hands. He had let himself get close to you, and the regret was starting to seep in. Not because he saw you any differently now, no, you were still beautiful and strong to him, and he adored that. But he feared he’d only hurt you further, that he’d break what you had worked so hard to put back together, and he refused to watch it all unfold.

So, he began to pull away. Slowly, at first, in a way that you didn’t really even notice. But eventually it became too obvious, from the way he dodged your calls to his blatant absence in your life. He no longer knocked on your door in the middle of the night nor did he stumble through your window, and when you tried to meet him halfway, you couldn’t find him at any of your usual spots. You sent him countless texts, and he… he just stopped responding.

You felt so stupid. You cried for days but it didn’t soften the ache in your heart in the slightest. You had let your guard down and fallen for the one man you had deemed worth your trust, and you had opened up to him, only for him to leave you in the dust. You connected the dots — clearly, what you had told him about your traumatic past had been too much for him and your baggage too heavy to carry. It was a fault in you.

Maybe it would have made you feel better to know that he was suffering, too. He hadn’t expected severing ties with you to be so difficult, but every night, his finger hovered over the call button, and every morning he woke up to the thought of you. He had fallen for you hard, but he was convinced that contacting you would only be selfish. He brought death and destruction wherever he went, and he didn’t want the violence surrounding him to touch you.

Turns out, even if he distanced himself from you, the chaos in his life could still reach you. That was confirmed for him when he got a message from you and he, against his better judgment, opened it, only to see a video of you tied up to a chair and gagged, tears running down your face. With the message came an address — an obvious trap, but Frank didn’t hesitate to pack his guns and hop behind the wheel.

Your captor snatched the rag in your mouth and loomed over you menacingly, a sick grin twisting his lips. ”You’re making our job easy for us. Castle made a mistake getting attached to a girl”, he taunted, and bitterly, you barked a laugh at him.

”He’s not coming, asshole. He doesn’t care about me”, you spat at him, your heart breaking all over again as you processed your situation. One second you’re getting into your car, the next you’re in the back of a van. And these men were counting on Frank to come and rescue you. Well, you weren’t holding your breath.

To Frank, it was a no-brainer. This whole time, his one objective had been to keep you safe — of course, he was coming to get you. In no time, he was kicking down the door, guns blazing, and your captors left you alone to duel with the man. They tried their best, but Frank was unstoppable when it came to you.

All you could do was watch in shock and amazement as he slaughtered them all, unfazed by the bloodshed but certainly moved by the fact that he was actually there. After weeks of radio silence, you hadn’t expected to see him ever again, but there he was: homicidal and glorious, stained with his enemies’ blood as he gunned all of them down in his path to you.

Tears blurred your vision when he finally reached you, kneeling in front of you with his bruised hands tenderly cupping your face. ”You okay, sweetheart?” he rasped, and with an unbeatable lump in your throat, you managed a nod. With his knife, he cut you free and your tired body keeled forward into his arms, and he quickly wrapped them around you to support you.

He helped you up to your feet and together, you walked back to his truck, past all the dead bodies. You didn’t feel bad for them, but in some weird way, you were anxious about being in Frank’s presence again. You had begun to accept that he didn’t find you worthwhile, yet he had come to your rescue, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he was just trying to alleviate his own guilt, not wanting your death on his conscience, but regardless of the reason, he was there.

He was there and he was real. And you wanted nothing more than to cling onto his broad chest and never let him go, to beg him to stay, to cry out all your frustration and slap him and kiss him all at the same time. He had never been more beautiful yet more infuriating, and it drove you crazy.

All you did, though, was climb in his truck and sit in silence as he drove you home. You could feel him stealing glances at you, but you didn’t meet his eye, not sure how you’d react if you gave yourself the chance to get lost in the charming darkness of them. You didn’t want to forgive him but at the same time you felt like you should have been the one to apologize and you didn’t really know what to do about that sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Once home, he helped you inside your apartment and awkwardly watched you wrangle your shoes off and your coat off of your weary shoulders. ”Sure you’re aight?” he asked quietly, and still avoiding his gaze, you nodded to confirm.

”They didn’t really do anything. Just snatched me and tied me up”, you explained while rubbing your irritated wrists. You could handle the burn of a rope — what was harder to stomach was the tension between you and Frank.

He sensed it, too, and supposing he didn’t really have a place in your home anymore, he took a step towards the door. ”So, you’re just gonna leave me again?” you asked, not pulling any punches as you called him out. He turned back to face you, and you finally had the courage to look up at him. ”You know what, I’m not okay! You broke my heart, you asshole”, you proclaimed, throwing your arms around in exasperation.

”I had to”, was all he gave you in return, and it made you laugh in disbelief.

”You had to? Is that how terrible it would have been to just be with me? I opened up to you and the next thing I know, you’re avoiding my calls. I thought I could trust you. I thought you could understand what I’ve been through”, you cried out, burying your face in your hands as the tears broke free. You had to fight back a sob, and not wanting to seem weaker than you already were, you turned your back to Frank.

Your words sank in, and regret immediately flooded his systems. He hadn’t thought of it like that, too caught up in his own anxieties to consider what it would look like to you. ”No, hey, listen to me”, he started, gently grabbing your shoulder to turn you back to him. ”I wasn’t… It wasn’t me rejecting you ’cause of what you told me. Everything you shared was just proof of how strong and amazin’ you are”, he insisted, crouching down to be eye level with you, his hands soft on your shoulders.

”Then why did you leave me?” you sobbed, the pain of his abandonment still aching within you, sore to the touch.

Frowning, Frank came to the painful realization that his attempt to keep you safe had come with a greater cost than he had anticipated. Of course, he hadn’t expected you to be okay with him withdrawing from you, but he hadn’t thought you’d gotten as attached as he had. He was completely in love with you, but the idea of you feeling the same way? Completely foreign to him, right up until now as you cried in front of him, evidently stabbed in the heart by his actions.

”I did it ’cause I’m no good for you, sweetheart. I’m… I’m too damaged, too broken and I can’t be fixed. You deserve someone who won’t drag you down with him. I just wanted to give you that chance”, he attempted to reason with you, his own heart shattering at the sound of your sobs.

”I’m damaged, too, Frank. I thought you’d see we could be equals. I felt—I feel connected to you. I wanted to face all those ugly demons together with you”, you managed to get out, trying to calm your breathing as you frantically wiped your eyes with shaky hands. ”I love you, Frank. And I accept you just the way you are”, you sighed, not able to hold it back any longer. In some sick and twisted way, all the time away from Frank had only cemented in the fact that he had stolen your heart.

Acting on impulse, Frank pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You wrapped your own arms around his strong frame, craving the contact, and buried your face into his shoulder. He placed a kiss on your temple, and it made you melt.

”I never shoulda left you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I—I do want you. So badly, you have no fuckin’ idea”, he confessed, his admission making your heart soar.

Gently, you pulled back so you could lock eyes with him. ”I’m right here, Frank. All you have to do is stay with me”, you whispered, and slowly, he nodded.

He took a careful hold of your jaw and leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a deep kiss, one that took your breath away. You closed your eyes and leaned into it, letting him guide you through it, and he did so with admiration and genuine care. He let go only to kiss you again, passionate and slow as he moved, desperate to feel you and taste you.

”Fuckin’ perfect”, he breathed out when he finally broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. ”Been wantin’ to do that a long time, pretty girl.”

Blushing, you leaned in for one more brief kiss. ”Me too. So… are you gonna stay the night?” you asked cautiously, the anxiety in your chest slowly releasing its hold, even more so when he nodded.

”I’m gonna stay as long as you want me to.”

[pshbites]

LOVE ON AiR: 39. YNXOXO VLOG: ice skating | grwm & vlog, w/ a special guest!

WARNiNGS » profanity, ynhoon cuteness, kissing, mentions of falling (not proofread)

wc: 1.4k

video desc: hi babes, welcome back to my bubble! today i filmed a grwm and vlog with a special someone, watch to find out who! we went ice skating and he taught me how to skate! hope you enjoy! 

you propped your camera up, smiling at it. “hi guys, welcome back to my bubble” you leaned closer to your mirror to fix up your makeup, blending out your products. “today i am going to be ice skating, i've never been so this should be fun” you set your beauty blender down, moving to the next step of your routine. 

“small update: obviously as you all know i moved into a new apartment, but aside from that this place is super nice, you know it’s like such a great community and really pretty” you spoke to the camera, applying your blush as well as your bronzer. as you spoke your phone buzzed, you peaked over and smiled at sunghoons text. 

you kept smiling, continuing to do your makeup. “i wanna go for like a natural look today, because i'm pretty sure we’re just going ice skating then hanging out for the rest of the day” it was clear to the camera that you had this glow on your face, of course the audience wouldn’t know yet, but it was of happiness. 

that was nothing less of the truth, you and sunghoon were happy. everything was finally coming to full circle after a couple months of hardship and it was all worth it, out of that traumatic experience you gained a loving and doting boyfriend, as well as amazing friends. what more could a girl want? 

you finished your makeup off with setting spray, hearing your apartment door open, you smiled. you fanned your face dry, then began to do your mascara. you heard sunghoon approaching your room and peaking in the door. you smiled when you saw him, your face clearly brightening up. 

“hi pretty” he said, walking closer to you to kiss the top of your head, he was clearly in the frame now but neither of you cared. “hi hoon, i’m just finishing up my makeup and then i’ll change” you replied, smiling up at him. he nodded and sat down on your bed, watching you through the mirror as you did your finishing touches on your makeup. you made eye contact with him and smiled. 

you stood up from your vanity, catching notice of how sunghoons eyes followed your figure. you pushed his shoulder playfully, “quit it you weirdo” you spoke, not being able to hold back your smile. “i’m the weirdo? don’t get me started on your weird food combos” he replied, making you roll your eyes as you shut the door to the bathroom. 

sunghoon walked over to your vanity, picking up the camera now. “i’m taking her ice skating i don’t know if she told you guys” he stared into the camera, not knowing what else to say. it was silent for a couple seconds until you got out of the bathroom. sunghoons face brightened and he turned the camera to show off your outfit. “you look so pretty” he mumbled, smiling as he saw you in the cameras viewfinder. 

“it’s just a sweater and leggings hoon” you sighed out, still smiling at the compliment. “yeah but i think you look so pretty no matter what” he looked at you, his eyes twinkling. you cupped his face, patting it. “cmon let’s go, and give me the camera silly” he smiled, handing you the camera and following you out of the room. you looked into the camera smiling, “hoons gonna drive us there so i will see you guys when we’re at the rink!” you waved to the camera and shut it off. 

you propped up the camera, moving back to check if it doesn’t fall. once you saw that it was stable you smiled, “we’re on the rink!!” you exclaimed, balancing yourself on the skates. sunghoon was behind you in case you fell. “you’re saying that as if i didn’t hold your hand to get you on here” sunghoon smiled, holding back a laugh. you glared at him for a couple seconds then looked at the camera. 

“i’m gonna leave you guys over there because holding a camera and skating seems hard” you said, slowly trying to skate. sunghoon came up behind you, holding the small of your back. “don’t walk, just try and glide” he mumbled, trying to steady you. “yeah i don’t know how to do that” you mumbled back, feeling the warmth of his hand on your back. you try moving forward and almost fall back, sunghoon held you by your hip, catching you. 

“maybe lets try this” you feel his hand leave your hip and he skates in front of you for a demonstration. currently the camera can see both you and sunghoon, your side profiles. “just watch, move with your legs not your feet. it’s not like walking just relax and glide” he demonstrated, moving slowly in front of you. you nodded, trying his method. your face brightened as you skated forward with ease, sunghoons hands reaching out to hold yours in case you fell. he smiled at your reaction. 

“okay now, push with your knees to skate farther” he spoke, backing away to show you. sunghoon skated a little bit farther from you and stopped, waiting for you to come his way. you pursed your lips and skated towards him, losing your balance once you got closed, making him reach out and grab your arm. “look i did it!” you looked up at him, smiling. he giggled seeing your expression. “you’re a natural pretty” he tilted his head, still smiling. 

you and sunghoon skated back to where the camera was, you picking it up. “i sort of got the hang of it so now lets just skate!” you smiled at the camera, the two of you skating slowly but surely now. sunghoon skated in front of you, skating backwards. you turned the camera to face him and sighed. “he’s just showing off now” you mumbled and he smiled, “ yeah but you like it” he slowed down to get back in pace with you. 

soon enough you two got to another corner of the rink and you propped the camera up. “okay now teach me to like do a spin” you looked at him and he only smiled, sunghoon nodded and stood in front of you, for another demonstration. “think of it like as a pirouette, just steady yourself and push yourself off from your foot.” sunghoon said, moving back so he could show you a spin. you stared at him, jaw dropped as he spun perfectly. “this isn’t fair” you groaned, making him laugh. “just try, it'll be fine” he reassured you, smiling. 

he moved back so you had room and nodded at you, as if saying you’ll be okay. you skated forward and attempted a spin but instead, lost your balance. you grabbed sunghoons arms which then resulted in the two of you to fall, you on top of him. you picked your head up and the two of you started laughing. you were still the camera frame as you laid basically on top of him. 

you kept laughing for a couple minutes, then both of you sighing out. sunghoon reached his hand to your face, moving a couple stray hairs out of your way. he stared at you like this for a while, down to your lips, then at your eyes again. “can i kiss you?” he breathed out, feeling like his heart was in his throat. you nodded, feeling him lean closer to you. he broke the gap and attached his lips to yours.

the kiss was soft and slow, his lips were just as you imagined, soft. he was gentle with his touch, his hand now moving to the back of your neck. sunghoon felt you smiling and his heart melted. you were just so so sweet. you pulled back, now looking at him. the two of you smiled and blushed like a couple of teenagers.

you attempted to stand up, sunghoon stood up as well, quick to give you a helping hand. the two of you turned around to see the camera which you coincidentally forgot about. you both looked at each other and nervously laughed. “well guys, fun’s over now that I fell” you skated toward the camera, picking it up. sunghoon right behind you. “thanks for joining me in my bubble, till next time!” you and sunghoon both waved bye to the camera. 

previous masterlist next

AUTHORS NOTE » heheh double update today pls like n reblog!! <3

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[yunwangja]

undercurrents | yn’s council

masterlist

character descriptions !

y/n

after a failed relationship that traumatized her, she decided that fangirling is better than actually falling in love

her ex broke up with her saying they got “tired” of them and they’re not a match

she felt nothing but insecure in the relationship, her ex was always disappointed for her not “living up” to being a girlfriend

“you should be less demanding” or “you should be more ‘happy’ when we’re together” or “you’re too tense (said annoyingly)”

the final punch was “you’re not acting like a girlfriend”, and “you’re not cut out to being in a relationship”

since then, she’s coped by liking guys that are “out of her league”

she actually liked them anyway though

but never actually romantic !! always an admirable and happy crush

that’s why when she was invited to a volleyball match by samu, she noticed oikawa right away

but someone else found her interesting ;)

is not completely weird with tooru, she can be aggressive lol but in front of him, more of a shy fan

and tooru responds well (wholesomely) to yn

uni student

goes to yuu for diabolical plans

goes to yams for advice

goes to osamu if she needs a peptalk

osamu

calm, except for when he’s with his twin ,,, or stuck in a room with noya

more like a … yn handler

tolerates her; but he’s also the one who keeps her in check and makes sure she’s not going insane

in the first place he has no idea how people knew he had a twin because he never told that to a soul

as per his bio, tsumu is an extra character who pursued vball professionally and didn't go to univ (so diff from kuroo's team since they're all in univ as well)

former volleyball player but chose to go to univ after they graduated high school

good friends w bo since high school (but both got busy and spent some time apart when univ started)

always says yes to eating out for the food

especially when yams bakes cookies

sometimes he uses the lamest excuse to act “sad”

samu: it rained today… that’s depressing

yams: OKAY COOKIES FOR YOU (he knows, he just loves to bake for his friends)

yams

a very good friend of yn from her first day in uni

a yn protector at all times !!!!!!

he will not use violence but will instigate nishi into doing so

in this smau, he has no background of being a vball member

yn’s kindest adviser

would bake cookies whenever his friends are down or stressed

noya

loves to be painfully cringe

50% because its funny, 50% because it gets on his friends nerves

a yn protector !!!!

will use violence if that’s what it takes

the most annoyed one when yn has a new “crush”

yn: there’s this guy-

SHUT UP

so watch his reaction when she got a crush on oikawa <3

also has no background of being in the vball team

note: these are how i envisioned them to be when i started forming this smau. but along the way, there might be times their personalities may shift a little and/or expand more. just wanted you guys to take note of this in case i forget some of the details i wrote down here or make something along the way that might not be written here. idk, in my past smau i thought about this a lot so i wanted to say this lol, but rest assured the core of their personalities will be consistent throughout !

taglist: @lvtilzs @rarararararq @iamfontenlos @kurooswifeyy @secretsunsetsociety @kagsnumnine

[sematarygirls]

God Complex — Sonny Carisi.

pairing: sonny carisi x fem!suspect!reader (sort of in a clarice and hannibal lecter sort of way)

summary: the special victims unit finally catch the woman who has been wreacking havoc on new york city by targeting convicted rapists and brutally killing them. detective carisi is assigned to interrogate you, and he can't help but find your mind eerily fascinating.

warnings: very dark; viewer discretion advised, graphic depictions of murder, mutilation, castration, and torture, mentions of rape, mentions of dead animals, mentions of suicide

word count: 6.1k words !

a/n: i feel like i wrote a shit ton, but it still somehow feels rushed??? also i accidently wrote this whole thing in lowercase, and i don't feel like going through and fixing it all, so my apologies 🙏

  ／ your bare feet padded against the cold tile of your apartment as you made your way to the kitchen sink. a blank expression settled onto your features as you listened to the constant plop, plop, plop of water droplets falling from the faucet.

the paint was peeling, the walls dingy and grey, which only added to the lifeless atmosphere around you. the air was cold, goosebumps raising on your skin as you stared at the leaking sink. your grip on the counter tightened, knuckles going white under the pressure. you felt your control slipping, and that was never a good sign. you would get careless, sloppy, and that just wouldn't do. you had to act before the urges consumed you completely.

you'd always had these urges, always had a sick fascination with death. when you were younger, you would seek out roadkill, watching with curious eyes as maggots devoured decaying flesh while the scent of death permeated the air. It shouldve sickened you. you shouldve screamed and covered your mouth in horror like any other little girl would have—your heart breaking for the poor little animal sat at your feet—but you never did.

as you got older, that fascination extended from just animals to the human body. you wondered what it would be like to wrap your hands around someone's neck and feel the life leave them. you wondered how it would feel to plunge a knife into someone and feel the hot, sticky blood on your skin. you fantasized about it, about what it would feel like to be completely and utterly in control of whether someone lived or died.

you took a deep, shuddering breath as you released your grip on the counter. you turned the sink on, splashing some water on your face. the ice cold water felt like it went directly into your veins, shocking you from the walking haze you'd been in.

you sighed, running your wet hands over your face. it was too soon to kill again, but you needed to. your hands were growing restless, aching to feel the handle of your knife as you stabbed your helpless victim over and over again, their pleas and cries for you to stop like a front row seat to a symphony meant just for you.

"god dammit," you muttered, turning the sink off and spinning around. you squeezed your eyes shut, the sound of the water droplets continuously hitting the metal basin reverberating in your ears. you needed out of this apartment.

your eyebrows furrowed, a frown pulling at your lips as you headed to your bedroom. you pushed inside, shoving the door so hard that it smacked against the wall and bounced back. you didn't pay this any mind as you went to your closet, removing the false back you'd installed and grabbing your murder kit.

it was a large black purse, fairly unassuming for someone in new york, and especially unassuming with an innocent looking girl like yourself holding it. inside, however, was an assortment of items including knives, pliers, a small hammer, duct tape, and rope, among other things. you threw the bag onto your bed, slipping your shoes on.

you knew exactly who your target would be. dennis hellerman had just been released on parol for the rape of a fourteen year old girl whom he'd left so traumatized that she needed to be admitted to a mental institution after a suicide attempt.

just thinking about what he'd done—let alone the fact that he was released on parol after serving just two years in prison—made your blood boil. you wanted him to feel the fear that she had undoubtedly felt. you wanted him to beg and plead for his life as you pulled each fingernail from his fingers at an agonizingly slow pace, and then, you wanted to kill him.

you stood up, grabbing your purse and heading toward your bedroom door. your boots echoed across the floor as you walked to the front door. you unlocked the deadbolt and the various other locks that you'd installed lining the wood before pulling it open and stepping out. the door slammed behind you with more force than you'd intended, but you didn't care. you simply stuck your key in the lock, turned it, and headed toward the elevators.

the man was living in a homeless shelter for sex offenders which made him extremely easy to find. he was also working a job at a small, understaffed autobody shop. it was almost too easy.

"what's a sweet thing like you doing out this time of night?" his voice came from behind you as you stood bent over behind your car, pretending to be confused.

you had spent a while tracking his every move and devising the perfect place to lure him into your trap. you'd learned that the cameras outside the rundown autobody shop and most of the surrounding buildings didn't work which was oh so convenient for you. it was like the universe was begging you to take care of him.

"oh, hello there," you giggled, putting on your innocent act. "gosh, i am such a ditz when it comes to cars, but i think something's wrong," you pouted, turning back to your car and propping your hands on your hips.

"let me take a look and see if i can fix that for you, darling," he said, flashing you a sleazy smile. "but, it'll cost you."

"oh, sure, anything," you nodded, pretending to be oblivious to his innuendo. if you had any reservations before about what you were going to do—which you didn't—you sure as hell didn't now. "just, please, i really need my car."

he grinned, leering at you in a way that made you want to kill him right there, but you held back. instead, you pointed vaguely to a spot on the back of your car. "i think i see something leaking there."

he hummed, stepping forward to take a look. he leaned down, squinting. "i don't see anything."

"no, i promise just look," you insisted, reaching into your pocket and pulling out s syringe. he kept looking, too preoccupied to notice that you'd stepped behind him. just as he was about to turn around, you stuck the syringe into his neck and pressed down the plunger to send the paralytic into his bloodstream.

he let out a yelp of pain, his hand covering the spot on his neck as you pulled the syringe away. as his limbs started to turn to jello underneath him, you gave him a hard shove forward, making him collapse halfway into your trunk.

you groaned softly as you picked up his lower body, shoving the rest of him into the trunk and closing it. you looked around briefly to make sure no one was around before hopping into your car and driving off to your destination. this was going to be fun.

  "wakey, wakey," you taunted menacingly, slapping his cheek as he stirred awake.

he groaned, his face jerking at the contact. his eyes widened, seeming to sober up as he realized he couldn't move. "what the fuck," he said, his voice urgent as he tried to pull against the ropes.

"how's that working out for you?" you grinned, your eyes gleaming with a sadistic pleasure, and this was only the beginning.

"you bitch," he spat when his eyes landed on you. he tried to lunge at you, but he got pulled back.

you tsked, shaking your head. "you really shouldn't insult someone who holds your life in their hands," you scolded him, motioning to your table of torture equipment that you had laid out.

the man's eyes widened, and you watched as the panic seemed to set in. he was realizing the situation he was in, and you were witnessing it in real time. the sight almost made you groan in pleasure. you loved this part and everything that came after.

he started screaming, shouting for help at the top of his lungs. you rolled your eyes. you did not care for this part.

"god, shut up," you complained, as if his fear was an inconvenience to you. "it's no use. no one can hear you out here."

you had set up shop in an abandoned warehouse near the docks. you did your work here and had your fun, and then, you disposed of the body in a dumpster in the city, discarding your victims like the trash they were.

he stopped screaming, his chest heaving as he glared at you. he was clearly trying to maintain some semblance of control by pretending not to be afraid. "what the fuck do you want?"

"hm," you hummed, picking up a knife and examining it as you pretending to think. "what is it that i want?" you put the knife back down, turning to him as you leaned on the table with your arms crossed. "what do you think i want, dennis?"

"money, drugs, sex? fuck knows," he spat angrily. "you're fucking crazy!"

"maybe," you shrugged, grinning wickedly. "but it's a cruel, cruel world, isn't it?" your smile dropped as you stepped closer, a dark look in your eye. "a world where sick fucks like you get to prey on the innocent and vulnerable without hardly any repercussions for your actions."

"shut up," he glared at you. "you don't know shit."

"oh, please," you laughed humorlessly. "you plead guilty. the whole world knows what you did."

"i was force-" the sound of skin on skin echoed throughout the warehouse as you slapped him. his head whipped to the side, stopping him in the middle of his sentence. he sat there, completely stunned, as a warm, red mark in the shape of your palm started to form on his cheek.

"don't lie to me," you gritted out, stepping back and turning to your table of equipment again. you hummed, deciding which instrument to use first. you were tired of all the talking. you wanted to get to the fun part.

"you little bitch!" he yelled, finally snapping back to reality. he felt the sting on his cheek and fought against the ropes once more. "i'm gonna get out of this, and when i do, you're gonna regret ever meeting me."

"oh, i'm so scared," you said flatly, deciding on a pair of pliers and turning back to him.

his eyes widened at the sight, and you saw his adam's apple bob up and down with the force of his swallow. "w-what are you going to do with those?" he asked, all conviction gone from his tone.

"teeth or nails?" you asked, tapping the pliers lightly against your chin as you raised a brow at him.

"y-you're fucking nuts!" his voice trembled. he thrashed against the restraints, trying desperately to get away, but it was no use.

"pick or i do both," you said coldly, stepping forward until you were right in front of him, so close he could feel your breath on his skin.

"n-nails," he managed to say, and you smirked, reaching out to grab his jaw tightly. you pulled it open, your fingers digging harshly into his cheeks. he yelled out protests that weren't quite decipherable because of his mouth being open, but you were sure you understood the general gist.

"oh, what?" you asked mockingly. "you thought i'd actually let you choose?" you laughed, bringing the pliers up to his mouth and clamping down on one of his molars "this is definitely gonna hurt," you grinned before ripping the tooth out of his mouth forcefully.

he let out a blood-curdling scream that had you smiling even wider, a sick satisfaction washing over your body. it made your nerve endings buzz, the ends of your fingers and toes practically tingling with excitement.

he spat out the blood that was rapidly filling his mouth, the puddle falling at your feet. "please," he begged. "please, stop. i'll do anything!"

"begging already?" you asked incredulously. "i've barely even started." you rolled your eyes, grabbing his hand and holding it still as you clamped the pliers on his fingertip.

"please, don't! please!" he cried out, tears starting to fall from his eyes.

"how pathetic," you scoffed, pulling the pliers up swiftly. a soft crack filled your ears as his bone snapped, causing another loud scream to fall from his lips. you sighed in content. "isn't this so much fun?" you asked, grinning at him.

"you sick bitch!" he cried, his body trembling.

"i'm sick?" you asked, a fire igniting in your eyes as you tossed the pliers to the side, grabbing a knife. "tell me, dennis, did she plead and beg for you to stop?" you sneered. "did she call you a sick bastard, and did you keep going anyway?"

you had intended to save this part for after you were done because you knew he'd bleed out very soon after, but you couldn't help it. your little game of foreplay wasn't satisfying you anymore. you needed to skip right to the main event. his words mixed with the fact that you were already antsy and practically jumping out of your skin to kill again sent you over the edge.

you knew you weren't right in the head. you knew something was wrong with you; you'd known it since you were a little girl, but the implication that you were somehow worse than he was made the little spark of self control you were holding onto fizzle out.

you brought the knife down to his pants, cutting away the fabric. it took a bit of effort to slice through the rough denim, but eventually, you were able to pull it apart, his boxers on display.

"what the fuck are you doing?" he asked, looking down at his lap before looking back up at you. fear was evident in him from the way his voice trembled, his body shook, and the look in his eyes.

"my favorite part," you grinned sinisterly, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his dick. in one practiced motion, you sliced the knife through the base of the sensitive skin, cutting it off of him.

he screamed like he had never screamed before as a white hot, searing pain enveloped his senses. blood poured from the wound, coating his jeans and making them stick to his thighs as it ran down to the floor.

you watched in pure satisfaction as he screamed and jerked against the ropes. a thin layer of sweat formed on his entire body, his face paling as he lost blood at an alarming rate. you knew he'd be dead any minute now, and it made you feel like a god.

you watched as his screams died down to small whimpers and sobs before fading out completely, his mouth hanging open as his eyes glossed over, a faraway look in them. you grinned, taking his appendage and shoving it down his throat before closing his mouth.

you stepped back, admiring your handiwork for a moment before beginning to clean up, just as you had done so many times before. this wasn't your first time, and you intended for it to not be your last, but sometimes, life has other plans.

you discarded him in a dumpster as you usually did before heading home to clean yourself and all your tools off.

it was just like any other kill. you didn't think of it much afterwords; you simply went back to living your life as normal. you went to your boring 9 to 5, and then came home and made dinner while trying not to let that incessant dripping drive you mad. it had gone perfect, just as it always had.

you should've known that your restlessness would have caused problems. your impulsivity had never gotten the better of you like it had that night, and you were going to pay for it.

you thought you had gotten away with it until you opened your apartment door and found three cops with guns pointed at you. it was clearly an inopportune moment to leave. it seemed as if they were planning to kick your door down or something, but you'd caught them off guard.

"problem, officers?" you asked innocently, raising your hands to signal that you weren't going to cause any trouble. there were two women—one with brown hair and the other blonde—and one man, who had his hair cut close to his scalp.

"turn around, slowly," the male officer ordered, his gun and stern expression trained on you. you slowly turned your back to them, keeping your hands up.

you felt someone grab your wrist, pulling it behind your back. cold metal locked around one wrist and then the other. "you have the right to remain silent..." one of the female officers began reading you your rights.

"yes, yes, i understand," you said as she finished reading them off and pulled you out of the apartment, leading you to the elevator. the other two went inside your apartment, presumably to search for evidence.

you played through the events in your head. how did they find you? none of your victims ever had any personal connection to you, and you were very careful to prevent any dna contamination.

though, truthfully, you knew that was impossible. locard's principle stated that when two objects came in contact, there would always be a transfer of material, so there was no way to ensure without a shadow of a doubt that you hadn't left some kind of evidence behind on the bodies.

you sat alone in the cop car for awhile, more police and crime scene techs showing up to use their fancy little black lights on your apartment.

you knew you were probably caught, but it didn't bother you much. you knew you couldn't get away with it forever. it was only a matter of time until you got caught, and to be honest with yourself, you were surprised you lasted as long as you did.

finally, you were driven back to the police station. you got your mug shot taken and got fingerprinted, all the while maintaining a calm and collected demeanor that had the police around you on edge. you had, allegedly, killed upwards of twenty men, and here you were in police cutody, brushing this whole situation off with an eerie ease.

one of the officers in uniform grabbed your arm, pulling you toward an interrogation room. your eyes swept the station as he did so, taking in every detail that you could manage. the brain receives about 11 million bits of information per second but can only consciously process around 40 to 50, meaning you had to try and focus to obtain the important things.

you saw a board with various pictures of your victims plastered on it. one picture in particular caught your eye. it was of your license plate. it was taken far away and undoubtedly at the same location that you'd dumped your last body. that was where your recklessness had screwed you.

he pushed you into the interrogation room, telling you to sit down and wait before leaving quickly. you rolled your eyes, taking a seat in the uncomfortable metal chair. you had seen movies and tv shows. you knew they were going to leave you in there for a while to try and make you sweat.

of course, it didn't work. you had accepted your fate. besides, you had an odd ability to be calm and collected in situations that normal people otherwise wouldn't be.

your head was tilted back, gaze staring up at the ceiling with a bored expression on your face. the sound of the door opening had you immediately looking toward the source, watching as a man entered the room with a manilla folder in his hand—a file.

the approached the table, his tie slightly loosened, and his sleeves rolled up. he wordlessly pulled out the chair across from you and sat down, placing the folder on the table between you two. he examined your expression and body language curiously.

"detective," you greeted him with a small nod. you scanned him appreciatively. you hadn't expected to get grilled by someone so attractive. his brown hair was gelled neatly to the side, and his rolled up sleeves showed off his forearms. he had piercing blue eyes that studied you with an intense gaze. you figured that if you were anyone else, that stare would unnerve you.

he met your gaze, those hardened baby blue eyes searching yours for some hint of remorse, madness, anything, but all he saw was cold calculation and a hint of amusement.

he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. "why don't you tell me why you did it?" he proposed, scanning every inch of you that he could see with an intrigued expression.

"did what?" you asked innocently, mirroring his actions of leaning forward and resting your elbows on the table. you furrowed your brows in faux confusion.

his eyes narrowed slightly. "you know exactly what i'm talking about. the murders. the bodies. the fact that every single one of your victims was a convicted rapist." he opened the folder and pulled out a photograph, slamming it down on the table in front of you.

you raised an eyebrow, gaze drifting down to the photograph. it was of one of your earlier victims—gerald windsor. he had been a serial rapist whose conviction was overturned after only six months because of a technicality with the dna evidence.

you let out a low whistle, leaning back against the chair and crossing your arms over your chest. "that's brutal. i hope you find who did it." you looked back at him, a smirk tugging at your lips.

he felt a shiver run down his spine at your nonchalance, your calm acceptance of the horrors you'd committed. he studied your face, trying to understand the motivations behind your actions. "you're not even sorry, are you?" he asked incredulously.

"well, hypothetically, if i had committed these murders," you grinned, skirting around evidence of a confession by calling it a hypothetical. "no, i don't suppose i would be sorry. i mean, you did say they were rapists, right?"

his jaw tightened, a muscle twitching. he couldn't help but feel a sense of fascination, a morbid curiosity that pulled him in despite his best efforts to remain professional. "and that gives you the right to play judge, jury, and executioner?"

"technically, if i killed them, i would've just been playing executioner because they were already convicted rapists," you shrugged nonchalantly, as if you were just talking about the weather or your weekend plans. "but, you know, semantics."

he felt a surge of anger, mixed with a dark, twisted admiration. you were playing with him, toying with his emotions and his sense of justice. and yet, he couldn't look away. "so, you're saying you think you're doing a public service? like-like some sort of hero?"

"not a hero, no," you shook your head. you did understand the difference between right and wrong. you knew you were no hero, that you were a cold-blooded murderer. you just didn't care. "but a public service? absolutely."

he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. you were a dangerous game to play, and he knew it. but, he couldn't help himself. he wanted to understand you, to peel back the layers of your psyche and see what made you tick. "and you have no remorse? no guilt? nothing?"

"bad people deserve it when bad things happen to them," you replied cryptically, your gaze unwavering as you stared him down.

his brows furrowed, a sense of frustration building inside him. he wanted clear, concise answers, not riddles. "and who decides who's 'bad', huh? you? you're playing god, doling out punishment as you see fit. how is that any different from them?"

"don't compare me to them" you said sharply, your calm demeanor slipping slightly, allowing anger to rise to the surface. you may not have been a saint, but you were nothing like those monsters. you didn't hurt innocent people, and murder was a far cry from rape.

he zeroed in on your reaction, filing it away for later. he knew he'd touched a nerve, and he intended to exploit it. "then explain to me the difference because from where i'm sitting, you're no better than the men you've killed."

your jaw clenched as you glared at him "allegedly killed," you corrected him, trying to maintain some semblance of control. you knew what he was playing at, and you didn't want to let him win. you would tell him what he wanted to know... eventually, but it had to be on your terms.

he leaned forward, his eyes locked onto yours. he could see the anger simmering beneath the surface, the barely-leashed fury, and he felt a perverse sense of satisfaction in knowing that he'd finally gotten under your skin. "alright, then. allegedly," he conceeded.

"rape and murder are two very different beasts," you responded ambiguously, once again giving a vague answer to a direct question.

he sighed, running a hand through meticulously styled hair in frustration, slightly tousling it. your vague answers were driving him crazy. he needed concrete evidence, something he could use to build a case against you, but you seemed determined to keep him guessing. they had an eyewitness that took a photo of your license plate, but she didnt actually see anything that would help the case tremendously. "let me put it this way then."

"put it any way you want, pretty boy," you grinned confidently, his frustration making you feel extremely satisfied.

he bristled at the nickname but pushed through. "if you didn't murder these men, then prove it. give me an alibi, something that'll take you out of the equation. anything."

"well, i'd have to know when the murders were committed to be able to provide an alibi, wouldn't i?" you asked, smart enough to not let his question trip you up. if you didn't kill them, you obviously wouldn't know which days to have an alibi for.

he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. he knew you were stalling, but he was willing to play along—for now. "the first murder was on a tuesday night in december, around ten pm. the second was a thursday morning in january, around six am."

you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table as you hummed thoughtfully, pretending to dig through your memory for those days. "i'm afraid my alibi won't help much. i was home, alone, as i am most days and nights" you gave him a sympathetic look. "sorry i couldn't be more help."

his face darkened, and he felt a surge of annoyance. you were toying with him, and he didn't like it. "you expect me to believe that you have no witnesses to confirm your whereabouts? no neighbors who might've seen you come or go?" he pressed you, eyes narrowing with skepticism.

you shrugged, your lips curving into a small smile. "i'm not a social gal."

he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he regarded you with a critical eye. he didn't believe you. hs knew you were hiding something, and he was determined to uncover the truth. "so, you're telling me that there's nobody who can vouch for you?"

"nope," you answered simply, shaking your head. the fact that you had no alibi did little to rattle you.

His jaw clenched, and he felt a growing sense of unease. you were too calm, too collected. it was almost as if you wanted him to think you were guilty. "you know what i think?" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "i think you're enjoying this."

"now that's just crazy," you gasped softly, feigning shock. "who in their right mind would enjoy getting interrogated for murder?"

he ignored your mock innocence. "someone who likes playing games. someone who gets off on the thrill of skirting the line between right and wrong," he leaned forward, his eyes boring into yours. "someone like you."

"well, you've just got me all figured out, huh?" you asked, grinning as you leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest again.

he felt a wave of frustration wash over him. you were enjoying this, reveling in the back-and-forth game, and he hated it. he hated being played. "this isn't a game," he said through gritted teeth.

"life is a game, sweetheart," you said condescendingly, rolling your eyes. "you just have to know how to play."

he slammed his fist on the table, making you jump slightly, but not out of fear, just surprise. the sudden outburst caught you off guard, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the anger and frustration he'd been holding back. "listen to me," he said, his voice low and intense.

"now, we're getting somewhere," you grinned, enjoying his surge of emotion. you sat up straight, suddenly very interested.

he took a deep breath, struggling to regain his composure. he couldn't let you bait him like that. he had to stay focused, no matter how infuriating you were. "i'm not going to let you toy with me," he said, his voice measured and controlled.

"oh, but you already have." your smile widened as you observed him trying to reign in his anger. "i've been toying with you since the moment you walked in that door."

his jaw clenched, and he could feel the anger rising once more. but then, he saw it—a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips—and it hit him. "you want me to lose my temper, don't you?"

"and you want me to lose mine," you shot back, tilting your head as you stared at him.

he unclenched his jaw, relaxing his face as he mirrored your pose. "it doesn't matter if i lose my temper. you're still going away for the rest of your life."

you shrugged nonchalantly, seeming completely unperturbed by his threats. "maybe, maybe not"

he bristled at your nonchalant response. you acted as if you had some ace up your sleeve, some secret card you hadn't played yet, and it unnerved him. he had to press on, had to break through your smug facade. "you're running out of time."

"I think you're the one running out of time, detective," you smiled, like you knew something he didn't. "see, once this game of ours gets boring—which it's starting to—well..." you sighed for dramatic effect. "well, then, i can just say those four little words, and your little interrogation is over." you knew you had the upper hand with being able to request your lawyer and stop his questioning at any time.

"you're not going to say them," he said confidently. you needed this. this little cat-and-mouse game was a different kind of exhilarating to you, and he knew you weren't ready to let it go just yet.

"oh, i'm not?" you asked, your eyebrows raising at his boldness. he truly was an intriguing man, and you were enjoying your little chat just as much as he thought you were.

he sat back in his chair again, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied you. he was calling your bluff, and you knew it. "no. because you're having too much fun," he said, a small, smug smile playing on his lips. "you like this."

you grinned, impressed by how well he had read you. "well, done, detective," you praised him. "you're smarter than you look."

he felt a surge of satisfaction at your praise, which only annoyed him further. he shouldn't care whether you thought he was smart or not. this was a power play, nothing more. "and you're not as clever as you think you are," he shot back.

"ouch," you said, placing your hand over your heart and feigning hurt. he watched, irritated, as you exaggeratedly winced, dramatically clutching at your chest. "oh, the pain. shot down by the nice detective. how will I ever recover?" your mocking tone only served to fuel his frustration.

he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. he couldn't let you get to him like this. he had to stay focused, had to break through your defenses. "you know what I think?" he said, his voice steady and controlled. "i think you're scared."

"scared?" you laughed, taken aback by his claim. you couldn't imagine where he could have possibly got that idea. "oh, you could not be farther off the mark"

"you're scared that i'll figure it out," he continued, leaning forward. "you're scared that i'll solve this case before you get bored of our game. because then, you'll have nothing. no more cat-and-mouse, just a life sentence in prison, and you're terrified of that."

"oh, detective," you grinned, shaking your head. "i'm not scared of anything. i accepted my fate a long time ago."

his eyes narrowed as he studied your expression, searching for any hint of weakness or dishonesty, but you seemed entirely too calm, too confident. he didn't like it. "accepted your fate, huh?" he repeated, his voice dripping with skepticism. "then why are you still denying what you did?"

"you really want me to do your job for you?" you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "where's the fun in that?"

he sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. you were playing with him, dancing just out of reach, and it was driving him crazy. he opened his mouth again to speak, but a knock on the two-way glass stopped him. that was his signal to leave.

"aw," you pouted, feigning sadness. "looks like our time is up."

"for now," he said curtly, pushing his chair back as he stood up, the sound of the metal legs scraping the floor echoing through the little room. he straightened his tie, giving you one last look before turning to leave.

you watched him go, gaze lingering on his ass as a smirk tugged at your lips. you knew his squad was watching from behind the glass. they had pulled him out because you were clearly having too much fun with him.

as he walked out of the room, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just been outmaneuvered. he glanced back at you through the glass, his expression unreadable.

"think she's gearing up for the insanity defense?" detective fin tutuola asked, staring at your calm, almost bored expression.

he shook his head. "she's just playing us," carisi said, his voice tight with frustration. "and she's good at it." he watched as you leaned back in your chair, your eyes closed. "too good." he paused, then added, "we need to be better."

"alright, well," lieutenant benson sighed, turning to the blonde detective. "rollins, you're up. see if you can get her to give anything up."

he glanced at rollins, then back to you. he didn't like the idea of someone else taking over the interview, but he knew benson was right. they needed to switch things up, keep you off balance. "be careful," he warned rollins. "she's slippery."

you opened your eyes at the sound of the door opening again. your head lolled to the side, and you regarded the blonde with disinterest as you watched her enter, closing the door behind her.

"hey," rollins said, pulling out the chair carisi had just vacated. she sat down, her blue eyes studying you carefully. "I'm detective rollins. i'll be talking to you today." she paused, waiting for your response.

"uh huh," you hummed. you seemed completely indifferent to her presence, your body language languid and unconcerned.

rollins frowned, noticing how easily you seemed to brush her off. she tried a different tactic, pulling out a photo from the evidence file. "i want to show you something," she said, setting the photo on the table in front of you. "recognize this person?"

"nope," you said, not even glancing at the photograph. you weren't interested in playing with her. you had your sights set on that other detective, and if you weren't going to be allowed to talk to him, you didn't want to talk at all.

rollins gritted her teeth, annoyed by your nonchalance. she slid the photo closer, insistent. "look at it," she demanded. "it's important."

"yknow what," you hummed, smiling confidently. you leaned forward, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "i think i'd like my lawyer now."

rollins sighed, frustrated. she hadn't even gotten anywhere with you, and now you were invoking your right to a lawyer. she gathered up the photo and the file, standing up. "fine," she said, her voice tight. "we'll do this the hard way."

you watched as she left with a smug smile, leaning back in your chair again and closing your eyes as you waited for your lawyer to arrive, satisfied with how you'd sufficiently pissed off the new york police department.

[stardust-poet]

Stars.

Pairing: percy jackson x gn!reader

Warnings: slightly vivid gore descriptions, not proof read

A/n: wrote this at midnight, so... might be a little incoherent

Enjoy!

You and your friend percy sat next to each other, percy sitting with his legs crossed and you with your legs dangling off the side of the rooftop of cabin 3, watching the stars peacefully.

You were the one who invited him to do this at such a late hour. Percy didn't mind much, though. He was a little concerned about getting too cold and turning into a perseus-popsicle. And the harpys tearing the both of you to bits.

You had called percy on the demigod-safe phones Leo Valdez had made for Camp-Halfblood as well as Camp-Jupiter all the way in California.

Your voice was shaky, and your words were stuttered over and repeated. That was when percy knew something was wrong.

Percy had always been plagued with nightmares since he had been thrown into the demigod life. That's what he suspected happened to you tonight. You might've been plagued with the horrors of both wars or some of the quests you've been on with other campers who may or may not have made it back in one piece.

Either way, he was here for you.

Percy had a crush on you. It didn't affect whether or not he would've come. He would always come when you called.

His little crush started out small. Holding stares just a little longer, more aware of how warm hugs from you were, admiring your appearance.

But soon, it got deeper and more passionate. Noticing every little quirk you have, memorizing your 'system' whenever you perform a task, slowly falling in love with every part of you. Your eyes, your smile.

Gods, he loved that smile.

Percy hardly focused on the stars tonight. His entire focus was you and you alone. You were the only star he ever needed. Until his own brain reminded him that you might not have the same feelings, and as of now, you aren't in the greatest condition to confess to. He had planned to confess tonight.

The silence was deafening yet peaceful. You felt like everything was crashing down on top of you. You felt the weight of it all, but you weren't crushed. You couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Earlier in the night, you woke up from a nightmare.

Not the usual kind, where it was maybe a monster chasing after you and having to run for your life with the overwhelming fear that it might catch up to you.

This time, it was memories.

Memories of the wars, bloodied guts, and other bodily parts everywhere from countless people you knew and some you didn't, mangled bodies spread throughout the area, people who were barely alive and hoarsely crying for help.

It felt as if everything was a thousand times worse in the nightmare then it had been in the actual moment.

Was it like that because you were so desensitized to this stuff? That you had to re-experience it in a dream for it to kick in?

What if you can't change this? What if every single bad, traumatizing, gut-wrenching thing that happens to you is something you'll blow off in the future?

What if you go cold?

What if you go numb?

What if—

"Are...you okay?" Percys soft whisper broke through the silence. Breaking you out of your downward spiral.

You hadn't realized it, but hot tears were streaming down you face. You hated the fact percy had seen you like this ... unless he didn't.

It was dark enough, right? Maybe he couldn't see you falling apart from your own thoughts.

And, percys whisper was just quiet enough for you to ignore it. You could blow this off, right?

"The stars look lovely, don't you think?"

Wouldn't this be confirming the one thing you feared?

"...that doesn't answer my question." Percy whispered, looking to you with a frown.

When he heard you faintly sniffle only a few moments ago, he got a wave of panic and fear flooded through him.

Were you alright? Were you crying? What had really happened?

That was when he saw the tears and asked if you were alright, resisting the urge to hold you.

"I don't wanna lie to you, percy." You whispered, your voice cracking as tears threatened to stream out of your eyes.

You wiped away the few tears that spilled out, feeling colder and alone despite a human next to you.

Then, percy pulled you into a close hug.

It was warm. You nuzzled into his chest and sobbed quietly, not really caring if anyone would hear.

Percy smelled like the ocean breeze and the beach. His hug was comforting and not like anything else you've ever felt.

Percy held you closer when he saw your shoulders heaving in rhythm with your sobs, pressing a small kiss to your forehead.

"It's okay, I'm here. It's okay, I promise you're safe. It's okay, you're safe. You're safe." He whispered sweet nothings that meant everything to you.

After your sobs had died down and been reduced to sniffles, percy asked:

"Do you...wanna talk about it?"

You shook your head against his chest.

"Okay. Okay, that's okay." He whispered, placing another kiss to the top of your head.

Maybe someday he'll get to confess, but surely not now.

Someday.

°•~《☆》~•°

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.

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Kinda mad at myself for not making them kiss ngl :/

Based on a writing prompt from (I think) Bookingitonthedaily on Instagram

[writingforstraykids]

Pretty Please

Pairing: Minho x Chan x fem!reader / Minchan x fem!reader

Word Count: 2953

Summary: You've ended up in bed with Minho or Chan as friends with benefits a few times by now. Chan and Minho had a similar agreement for quite a while themselves. After proposing to Chan to all spend some time together, he promises to talk to Minho. Coming home from an event Chan can't keep his hands off Minho, completely ignoring Minho's concerns about you still being home.

Warnings/Tags: yearning, teasing, dom!chan, sub!minho, smut (minchan focused)

A/N: I hope you like it, let me know if you'd be up for a part two🤭~Moon🌙

Minho chuckles softly as Chan buries his face in his neck, wrapping his arms around his waist as soon as he closes the door. Chan’s lips travel all over the back of his neck, hand fondling down his shirt until it reaches the hem of his suit pants. Minho’s breath hitches as Chan palms him through layers of fabric and melts back against him. “Channie,” he tries softly.

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me tonight,” Chan growls lowly, leaving tiny bites all the way up to his ear. 

“Didn’t do anything,” Minho tells him, hand reaching back to bury itself in Chan’s curly hair. Chan lovingly rubs the growing bulge in his pants, his other hand slipping up beneath his shirt. Minho has trouble holding back a moan at the eagerness of his older friend. “She’s right upstairs, behave.”

“Isn’t she at some birthday party?” Chan asks, turning with him in his arms and glancing into their empty living room.

“Not sure,” Minho shakes his head, hissing softly as Chan sinks his teeth into his neck. “Wait a damn minute,” he giggles, gently freeing himself of his grip. He slips out of his shoes and bends over, putting them on the small shelf in front of the mirror. His eyes widen as Chan grips his hips, pushes his crotch against his bum with force, and makes him stumble at the impact. Minho blindly braces himself on the shelf and raises his eyebrows at him through the mirror. “Fucks sake, Channie, I got the message,” he laughs breathlessly, pressing back against Chan.

Chan buries his hand in his hair and pulls him up, marveling at the soft whimper leaving his friend’s lips. Wrapping his hand around his neck, he meets his eyes through the mirror. “I don’t think you did,” he rasps into his ear, smirking in success. Minho is shivering against him, leaning into his touch subconsciously, and stares at him for a moment. Chan knows that look all too well. He knows Minho is trying to gather his thoughts, trying to get himself together and pretend he isn’t dying for his touch. “What makes you think I was asking, kitten?” he asks, his voice growing low.

Minho can’t stop the moan tumbling from his parted lips this time. “Channie, please,” he whispers desperately. 

“Please, what?” he asks impatiently. 

“We should check if she’s there first,” he tries to reason with him. 

“Afraid you can’t keep quiet?” Chan asks, smirking. 

“I’m afraid of traumatizing her,” he gives back.

“I bet she’d love the sight of you falling apart on my dick,” he grins, and Minho’s eyes widen. “Those sweet little whimpers of yours, eyes fluttering close and all while you're trying to be good for me.” Minho’s knees buckle, and he grows heavier against his grip for a split second. “You’d like that? I know you’ve been thinking about her watching us before.”

Minho’s eyes grow even wider, and he frantically searches Chan’s, swallowing hard. “I want to make you both feel good,” he whispers, a little irritated that there doesn’t seem to be a single hint of jealousy or anger in Chan’s chocolate eyes.

“Don't be a dick, Chan,” you giggle, and Minho flinches heavily, staring at you bewildered. You casually lean against the door to your kitchen, watching them with a knowing smirk. When you were with Minho, he loved being in control, but that seemed to change as soon as Chan was around. You can't blame him; Chan has a similar effect on you, but watching the man dominating you in bed is very intriguing, practically dropping to his knees for his hyung. 

Minho swallows softly at the sight of you in a shirt he lent you. He gets lost in admiring the form of your body, the way your eyes light up as you smile, and the softness of your hair. 

He had been very attracted to Chan the moment he met him, and after years of working and growing together, they became friends with benefits. Minho would be lying if he'd say Chan doesn't mean a lot more to him by now. He helped discover a side of himself he hadn't known before, always making sure he felt comfortable and safe. You met the two of them a few years ago, and once you became their roommate, Minho found himself surrounded by two very beautiful and teasing people. He knows that Chan and you have been sleeping together occasionally as well, but he never dared to think you'd ever consider doing the same with him. Until you did…and god, he loves the different types of attention he gets from the two of you. Chan is a passionate lover, pushing him to his limits and making him experience a need to be ruined he didn't know he had. He knows that Chan only gets as dominant as he is tonight when he can't handle the sight of him. Minho knew he was in for something the minute Chan saw him stepping out of his room before their event. And then there's you. The sweet girl he loves seeing falling apart beneath him, longing for his touch at all times. You know how to wrap him around your finger, and he lets you every single time. He can't help it. 

You tilt your head at him as Chan turns with him in his grip and hums gently. "You do look pretty like that, Minnie baby." 

Minho's lips part with a tiny gasp at the all-too-familiar pet name. Chan smirks and tightens his grip around his neck a little. "What do you say, kitten?" 

"Th-Thank you," Minho stammers nervously, completely overwhelmed by the sudden developments. It's messing with his brain, not fully knowing how to behave. Chan's hand wrapped around his neck tells him very clearly to do as he says, to offer his all to him. You wearing nothing but that damn shirt makes him want to tell you how beautiful you look just for him. 

You push yourself off the doorframe and make your way over, locking eyes with Chan, who nods. You've opened up to Chan about a possible event, including the three of you, and Chan seemed intrigued. So, after a few talks, you've decided to have Minho decide if he'd be up for it. Minho gulps softly, pupils blown wide as you step in front of him, meeting his eyes. "Breathe, Minnie," you say and soothingly caress his cheek. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes as you kiss him tenderly. You can tell he's confused. Chan hasn't talked to him yet in that case. 

Chan's hand releases its hold on Minho's neck. He quickly wraps his arms around him as Minho stumbles a little, losing his balance at the sudden loss. Chan plants a sweet kiss on the back of his neck. "I got you," he promises, and Minho hums softly in response. 

Minho gasps at the loss of your lips against his and presses himself even closer to Chan to make up for it. You lovingly wipe your thumb across his lips before leaning forward. Minho chases your lips, wincing softly as you kiss Chan instead, right next to him. He watches as your mouths collide, unable to stop watching the two people he loves kissing each other. 

You moan softly as Chan buries his hand in your hair, pulling you back. "Babygirl's wearing my kitten's shirt, I see?" 

"It's comfy," you tell him, and Minho's eyes widen at the combination of your pet names. 

"Isn't our girl pretty?" Chan asks, lovingly kissing Minho's cheek. 

"Very pretty," Minho nods, smiling at you sweetly. 

"Mhm, thank you," you chuckle, glancing at them. "I'll be off in a bit, I'll sleep at my friend's place." 

"But not because of us?" Minho asks caringly. 

"No, dummy," Chan chuckles lovingly, and Minho bites his lip, trying to resist the urge actually to play dumb for him. "Remember that birthday party I told you about?" 

"Right," he nods, barely able to focus on anything else than Chan's growing bulge pressing against his bum. Minho subtly presses back and almost winces at how hard Chan grips his hip. He does it again, knowing he's playing with fire by now. Chan's grip on him gets even harder, making a low whimper fall from his lips. "Fucks sake, Y/N, get moving already," he presses out shakily, unable to hide the need lacing his voice. 

"Be nice," Chan cuts him off sharply, and Minho closes his eyes in defeat. "Go sit on the sofa, and don't you dare start without me." 

Minho scowls but does as he says, watching the two of you suspiciously as you go upstairs. He bites his lower lip hard, sitting on his hands to stop himself from giving in to the pure need pumping through his veins. Fucking Chan with his teasing and letting him drool.

You chuckle softly as Chan kisses you lovingly and accompanies you to your room. "Channie," you say gently. "Don't make him wait." 

"Someone's compassionate tonight," he teases you. 

"I know what a tease you can be," you giggle and grab your clothes. 

"Call me when you get there," he tells you, letting you change. 

You laugh but nod. "I will." 

"And if something's wrong. We'll pick you up," he assures you. 

"I know," you smile fondly. "I'll call once I'm there. I'll text you guys good night, and I'll call the second something's off."

"Good girl," he smiles and winks at you. 

You blush a little and wave him off. "Go, your kitten's waiting." 

Minho shoots up from his seat as Chan finally comes back downstairs. "Channie," he whines and makes grabby hands toward him. 

Chan smirks and pulls him into his lap as he sits down. "I'm here," he assures him gently, rubbing soothing circles on his hips. 

Minho's getting more desperate with every passing second. Suddenly, his suit feels uncomfortable, keeping him away from his lover. "Need you," he whispers, blushing heavily at Chan's intense gaze. 

"Need me?" Chan asks curiously. 

"So bad," he nods. 

"How bad?" he asks, raising his brows at him. 

Minho's blush deepens, eyes darting down as he starts feeling shy. "I-." 

"Look at me when you speak," Chan reminds him. "You've got such pretty eyes, it'd be a waste." 

Minho squirms a little before lifting his gaze. "Need you so bad, Channie," he says shyly. "You always know what I need."

Chan hums before burying his nose in Minho's neck. He grabs his hips, grip growing tight as he pulls him closer. Minho whimpers at the sudden but very needed friction. "Shh, pretty boy, she's still here," he warns him before licking up his skin agonizingly slowly. Minho's mouth falls open with a weak moan, and the slap on his bum that should serve as a warning isn't helping. 

"You're killing me here," Minho breathes out as Chan lazily kisses up his neck. He buries his hand in his hair in an attempt to steady himself. 

"Patience," he says gently. 

"You're one to speak," Minho groans in protest. "If you would've been patient, we wouldn't - I'm sorry -," he squeaks as Chan pulls back and raises his eyebrow at him warningly. 

"You're testing me today, kitten," Chan says calmly, and Minho's eyes widen in shock. 

"I'm sorry, Chan hyung," he says and starts planting tiny kisses down his jaw and neck, hands roaming his chest in an attempt to calm him. "I'll be good, I promise," he continues, smiling as Chan leans back, exposing his neck for him. He knew that would work. 

"You better," he says, already forgiving him as he litters his neck with small bites and heavy kisses. Minho scoots back on top of him to reach more of him, making them both moan at the friction. 

"Fuck, Channie," Minho breathes out. "Can I - just until she comes downstairs," he begs, and Chan hums in agreement. Minho doesn't waste a second, dragging his hips all over Chan's lap. A few slow, practiced rolls of his hips later, Chan's head drops back against the sofa. 

Chan's eyes flutter close at the relief flooding his system with Minho moving on top of him. "Such a good kitten," he praises him, biting his lower lip hard as Minho mewls. Fucks sake, this boy is driving him crazy, and it takes everything not to take him right here and now. Chan pulls him into a heated kiss, humming at the feeling of their lips meeting. "Gonna fuck you so good. Mark you up so everyone knows who you belong to," he promises against his lips, and Minho takes it all in like an addict. 

"Call me yours?" Minho gasps softly, eyes fluttering as his movements fasten up. 

Chan groans and moves with him in his arms, making Minho lie on his back. He hovers over him now, pressing down against him and chasing his lips. "Mine. You're all mine, Minnie," he rambles and forgets about his promise to wait until you're gone. He pulls down Minho's pants to his knees and pushes his fingers into his mouth. Minho eagerly sucks at his fingers, moaning around them heavenly. Chan returns to kissing him as he opens him up gently but quickly. Minho fumbles with Chan's belt, pulling down his pants enough for him to push into him as soon as he can. 

Minho groans as Chan pushes into him, squeezing his eyes closed at the sudden burning but pleasurable pain. "Fuck," he whispers, realizing Chan was too far gone himself to think about anything else than the two of them. He eagerly pushes back, pulling Chan close to him. 

"Taking me so well, baby," Chan grunts, burying his face in his neck. "So good for me." He thrusts into him quickly and roughly, his need taking over. 

Minho holds onto him, loud moans falling from his lips freely now. "Feel so good, hyung," he whimpers deliciously as he gets pushed deeper into the cushions with every thrust. 

"My pretty boy," Chan praises him, kissing every bit of his neck he can reach. 

"Say that again," Minho begs breathlessly, stomach flipping already. 

You grab your handbag and carry your heels in your hand as you make your way downstairs. You stop in the middle of the stairs, too stunned to move at the sight in front of you. Apparently, they gave up on waiting. Your ears burn up as you try to make yourself leave but can't. 

Minho's gripping the back of Chan's jacket, arching into him and shaking beneath him. His shirt is ripped open messily, and Chan's planting open-mouthed kisses on whatever part of his skin he can reach. Minho's eyes roll back with a delicious moan, and the way he whimpers is new to you. Chan's pounding into him at a desperate pace that tells you just how fucking needy your hyung had gotten. Low groans leave his throat as he pushes them both closer to the edge, and he has trouble holding himself up on his arms. 

"You're mine," Chan tells him, hitting his prostate and making him arch against him. "My beautiful kitten, my sweet boy, my pretty baby," he babbles as Minho melts more with every praise. "One day, I'll make sure everyone knows you're mine. Taking me so well, baby boy." 

Minho can't even warn him anymore, painting their expensive suits as he comes hard. He moans his name obscenely loud, hand shooting up to cover his mouth in shock, eyes rolling back and toes curling as his body shakes. 

"Fuck, kitten, who told you you can cum," Chan growls, hips stilling as he follows only seconds later. He pulls out a little, smiling as Minho makes a protesting sound. 

"Stay, please," he says sweetly. "Want to feel full a little longer." 

Chan smirks and pushes back inside, getting comfortable on top of him. He mindlessly rubs his hip, closing his eyes as Minho plays with his hair. 

"Seriously? On the sofa?" Your voice suddenly rings through the silence. 

"Don't make me mention what happened on that kitchen island," Minho simply replies, still catching his breath. 

"Or that carpet down there," Chan pants softly. 

"I hate you two," you groan, knowing you lost. 

"No, you don't," Chan snorts. 

"It'll change once you're needy," Minho smirks. 

There's a deafening silence after that, which makes both of them look at you confused. Chan picks up on the way you're gripping your heels and subtly pressing your legs together first. "Huh," he snorts. 

Minho raises his eyebrows, noticing your lips quivering as you exhale shakily. "That soon, honey?" he asks sweetly. 

"That's not fair, you know," you pout. 

"What isn't, baby girl?" Chan asks, amused. "That I'm fucking him instead of you?" he adds, pulling back and pushing back in. 

"Fucks sake," Minho moans out, surprised. 

"Or is it that he's not doing anything to help you out either because he's busy doing as I say?" he grins. 

"You're being mean," you whine and look at them, forgetting completely about the party. 

Chan raises his eyebrow at Minho, who meets his eyes, almost looking a little confused. “Should we make her wait it out…or take care of her?”

Minho’s jaw drops a little, blushing heavily as he searches for words. “You mean…together?”

“Yeah,” Chan nods. 

Minho glances over at you, and the look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know. You’re dying for their touch. How could he deny you that? “I-uhm.”

“Minho, please,” you beg softly, and his stomach flips at the need dripping from your voice. 

He clenches around Chan in the process and closes his eyes in defeat as Chan gasps softly, noticing. Fucking hell, he’d die tonight.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies

[chloe-skywalker]

Be Safe - Bucky Barnes

Bucky x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mention of Bucky losing his arm

Word count: 1,138

Summary: 1940’s - What if they found Bucky after the fall? What if HYDRA never took him?

Authors Note: Neat little idea I had and I LOVE it!

Masterlist

Avengers Masterlist

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“You promise that you’ll both be safe?” Y/n was worried about her boys. Y/n and Peggy were very similar in the way they fought alongside the men. But they weren’t allowed to go on every mission. When they couldn’t be there it made the two women more anxious. Peggy worried about Steve, and Y/n worried for her friend Steve, but mostly for her husband Bucky. Jame Buchanan Barnes. The love of her life.

“We’ll try.” Steve smiled at his lifelong friend.

“We’ll come back, doll.” Bucky stated reassuringly. He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. “Promise.”

“You can’t promise that.” Y/n wished she could just believe him but that's not how war works.

“I’ll come back to you, doll. I promise and I’ll bring this punk back with me.” Bucky rested his forehead to her’s, not a worry in his eyes. He truly believed the words he was telling her.

“We gotta go back.” Steve spoke up standing next to Peggy. Steve smiled at Y/n as the couple pulled apart. “Bye, y/n/n. We’ll be back soon.”

Peggy and Y/n stood next to each other as the two women watched their men leave. Y/n couldn’t help the feeling that something was gonna happen.

^     ^     ^

Y/n tired to keep busy, keep her mind off the fact that Bucky was in danger.

Luckily they came back before nightfall of the next day. Peggy and Y/n smiled as they saw Steve, knowing Bucky wouldn’t be far behind. But when Y/n saw him on a stretcher that's when her heart rate picked up drastically.

“Bucky?” Y/n said out loud in shock at his state before her eyes. “Oh my God.” she covered her mouth at the site of him missing his arm.

“He’s stable, okay? They're gonna help him.” Steve pulled y/n into him, comforting her the best he could. Steve held her tight hoping to calm her, knowing how scared she must be. Bucky was covered in blood and missing his arm.

“What happened Steve?” Y/n asked pulling back some to look up at the blonde. Peggy rested a comforting hand on Y/n’s shoulder. Y/n was trying to keep her emotions in check. Be strong but it was getting increasingly harder.

“He got shot out of a train. I-I couldn't grab him in time and he fell.” Steve stuttered as he explained, telling it just made it feel more real. Scarlier.

“It’s not your fault.” Y/n reached out to hold Steve’s hands tightly, trying to comfort him. Knowing Steve he was taking all the blame for Bucky being hurt.

“It feels like it.” Steve dropped into a nearby chair, putting his head into his hands.

Y/n sat beside him worried for Bucky as well, but also staying strong for Steve.

^    ^    ^

“Y/n?” Bucky said in a rough voice but loud enough for her to hear.

“Right here Bucky.” Y/n spoke up scooting closer to his bed. Bucky had been out of it for a couple days. They had transferred him to a hospital in the city back in brooklyn the morning after they got back to base. Y/n hadn’t left his side since.

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky asked, turning his head to look at his wife.

“He’s right outside.” She told him lifting his hand to her lips.

“He’s blaming himself isn’t he?” Bucky grimaced, feeling more pain the more he woke up.

“Yeah.” Y/n nodded sadly knowing Bucky doesn’t even blame him for what happened. But Steve doesn’t want to believe it.

“What do you remember?” Y/n questioned him, secretly hoping he didn’t remember to much of the traumatic accident.

“I remember being shot at and hanging off the side of the train. Then nothing.” He told her with a shake of his head and watery eyes.

Y/n explained to him what  Steve had to her in the last couple days of what exactly happened. There were lots of tears shed. Y/n had Steve come in when Bucky was ready. The two talked and Bucky tried to assure Steve there was nothing he could have done.

Bucky had to say in the hospital for a couple weeks but once he left Bucky and Y/n had gotten a call from Howard to come to his lab. So the couple headed to Stark’s  lab to find out that Howard had been hard at work making a bunch of different prosthetic arms for Bucky that were incredibly advanced. He wanted Bucky to be able to have finger control, and to possibly have feeling from the arm, so he could feel hot and cold and touch almost as if it had nerves.

“How’s it feel?” Howard asks, biting his thumb anxiously.

“Good. I can feel heat, cold, touch, just like you said.” Bucky nodded honestly, he was really impressed and immensely grateful. Grateful for everyone's support, and all their hard work to help him.

“Great! That was the goal.” Howard clapped with a huge smile. He felt relieved it had taken a lot of tries and hours to work it all out. But he wanted to give Bucky so normalcy back.

Howard walked away to give Bucky a moment.

Y/n walked closer to Bucky. “You okay?”

Y/n noticed Bucky’s demeanor had dropped once Howard walked away.

“Hmmmhmm.” He hummed not looking at her but at the metal arm now attached to him.

“Bucky I don’t want to push but you have to talk to me.” Y/n pleaded talking lowly so no one would hear her.

“Its not the same.” Bucky mumbled, sadness evident in his voice. He honestly didn’t expect it to be like his real arm, but still it was odd to feel things but feel them in a new way.

“It’ll never be the same. But at least it’s something and Howard is doing everything possible for it to be as much like your real arm as it possibly can be.” Y/n felt bad for him but knew he didn’t need pity. He needed support and someone to tell him the truth in a kind way.

“I know.” Bucky nodded knowing she was right. The arm was made out of the same metal as Steve’s shield, and it had a lot of features that wouldn’t be around for many many decades.

“I still love you. Arm or not my love for you will never change.” Y/n smiled, leaning up to kiss his lips lovingly, hoping to ease some of his insecurities that he is not used to having.

“I love you too. Thank you for sticking with me.” Bucky smiled at her, grateful to have her with him. Staying by his side through everything.

“Always.” Y/n promised. Nothing would separate them. Nothing.

Taglist:

@gruffle1 @padawancat97 @starkleila

[muzansfangs]

Guilty pleasure.

Starring: Muzan x f!reader; Yoriichi, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, Gyomei (mentioned).

Warnings: fluff, implied sexual content (although nothing descriptive), mention to death, murder, attempted murder, traumatic events, partial loss of memory, use of gun, adoption, use of alcohol.

Plot: after the shower, you find yourself face to face with Muzan. Words meant to be unspoken finally slip from his mouth and, for the first time ever, there’s not just lust in his actions. You come to terms with your feelings and, while you bend your knee to him, he does the same. In the meanwhile, Kagaya, your real father and Yoriichi meet up for a confrontation. Yoriichi will do his best to bring you back to your “real” home and Kagaya wants Muzan’s head.

part 1| part 2| part 3| part 4| part 5| part 6| part 7| part 8

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

SUBMISSION.

The moment you stepped into the shower with him, you knew it was going to be a long night.

Everytime your eyes locked, your back hit the white marble wall behind you and his mouth chased yours in fervent kisses. The warm water cascaded over your naked bodies, running down your backs, drawing irregular patterns down your legs. The sweet scent of vanilla and honey filled the steamy atmosphere, piercing your nose and entering your lungs through the breathtaking kisses.

As long as you were enjoying it, your heart ached. You had told yourself a million times, from the day you first moved into his manor, not to fall for him and deceive yourself, for Muzan Kibutsuji was no good.

He left the shower before you were finished washing away the soap from your body. His lips planted one last kiss on your forehead, before he turned his back at you "Join me in the living room, once you are done" he said calmly on his way out, exiting the shower cubicle and grabbing a black towel from the towel horse beside the sink.

You watched him leave from the foggy glasses, the sound of the door closing behind his back signaling you that he was no longer in the bathroom and you were left alone with a fire burning into your heart, a fire you could not bring under control.

Muzan Kibutsuji, the man you had fallen for through the pages of the magazines, the one you did not believe you could ever meet in your whole life, was the one you had blindly said yes to. Why did you do it? Why did you leave your life behind and decided to start a new fake one with him? And, above all, what you were feeling for him was even real? The things he said and the things he did for you were part of his wicked scheme too? Probably. Still, he was addictive and you kept on forgetting not to give him your heart too.

The main reason why you had left your apartment without hesitation was because you were utterly alone. You had no brothers or sisters to come back to, you were an orphan. Of course, you had some good friends by your side, and your uncle Gyomei, but they had their own lives to deal with. You had nothing to lose.

You were kind of tired to be a lone wolf.

Searching comfort into the arms of a stranger, of a dangerous man, was not the smartest choice to make.

Why did you have such a bad taste in men? Muzan Kibutsuji was undeniably hot, but he also was a psychopathic killer.

While you naturally blamed it on the years of loneliness spent dealing with your problems alone, you also thought it was the feeling of being around someone who could protect you that made you so attracted to him. Your parents's murder had permanently left you scared of being chased down by the same person who had killed them.

You often asked yourself why he had not come back to finish what he had started. Did he think you were dead? You remembered someone had shot you. You remembered running into the darkness, feeling his hot breath on your neck as he tried to catch you. He did not succeed in it though. Someone had stopped him. You had even got a glimpse of your savior, in your peripheral. He had a high ponytail and some peculiar earrings you had never seen before.

Obviously, they started fighting, but you still asked yourself what had happened to them. The last thing you remembered was falling downstairs and banging your head against the cold floor.

You had fainted, or so you had been told at the hospital. You had to spend a month in there, crying yourself to sleep and cursing your stupid, compromised memory for not recalling the monster's features. Then your uncle came to pick you up and you lived with him until you got that job at the restaurant and you were finally able to claim your independence.

The same independence you had kind of lost with Muzan, though.

You sighed, wrapping yourself into a towel and drying your hair. Before you had even realized it, you were heading barefoot to the living room in a oversized, black t-shirt of the Rolling Stones. It was a gift from Giyuu, something you were deeply attached to. Every time you slept over at his house and you forgot to bring your pajamas over, he gave you this t-shirt. Three years ago, he had ultimately decided you could keep it. It had become a sort of 'comfy outfit’, as you liked to call it.

And, as a matter of fact, you were looking for comfort. It was better being in a cozy shirt for the incoming fight and you had even mentally prepared a detailed speech to declaim.

A speech that you forgot, as if it had disappeared from your head, died on your tongue, as your eyes landed on the scenery before you.

The first thing catching your eyes was Muzan, who was sitting on the large leather sofa wearing a simple silky dressing gown. He had popped up a bottle of champagne, the finest of course. Two flûtes were settled on the glass coffee table at his feet, inviting you to drink it and enjoy yourself. Next to it, there was a silvery tray filled with a variety of sushi you had never seen before in your whole life. The cherry on top were the two basins in the middle of it: one of them was filled with strawberries, the other with melted chocolate.

Why? Why did he have to make it so hard for you to hate him? Why was he acting like a caring boyfriend, all of a sudden?

Muzan darted his eyes on you, his gaze scrutinizing your frame up and down for a few seconds, before he reached his hand out and grabbed the two flûtes of champagne "I did not know you were into the Rolling Stones" he noted, standing up and ambling towards you carrying a suffocating charm with him.

It was crazy. He knew everything about you. How could he forget your favorite band? It sounded so wrong. Apparently, he did not have anything under control, as he thought.

Your answer, however, soothed his nerves "I'm not. – you murmured, grabbing the flûte he was offering you – I just liked the t-shirt" you shortly added, watching the way his crimson hues twinkled even so slightly, as if he had just heard something pleasing coming from your mouth. You blamed it on your infatuation, though.

He nodded his head and gestured for you to take a seat "You have plenty of questions to ask me, right?" he stated, taking a small sip of his drink and following you back on couch.

"Of course, I have. – you agreed, propping your chin on the palm of your hand – Here's the first one: who are you and what you did of Muzan Kibutsuji?" you joked, cracking up a faint smile to ease off some nervousness engulfing your stomach.

The raven-haired man rolled his eyes at you "I'm unique and irreplaceable, darling. Untouchable too, if I may remind you of who I am" he remarked, glancing at you with a captivating, mischivious smirk.

You scrunched your nose and leant over to grasp the set of chopsticks on the coffee table, your eyes trailed on the assorted sushi tray in front of you. The nigiri looked absolutely inviting and, careful not to mess up the plate, you grasped one. As you brought the delicious food to your mouth, you could feel his eyes on you and, turning your head towards him, you ended up losing yourself into his red hues. You blushed and shoved the nigiri into your mouth, sighing as your taste buds exploded in ecstasy for the delicacy you were being fed with.

You had never eaten such a tasty nigiri. You hated to admit it, but Muzan only offered you the best.

"You are acting weird" you casually said, averting your eyes from him and staring at your lap. This romantic dinner was literally going to be agonizing, the equivalent of being skinned alive.

Muzan quirked his eyebrows up, taking another sip of his drink "Am I?" he curiously asked you, twirling the sparkling drink into the glass.

"Yes, you are" you piped out, before reaching your arm out to grasp another piece of sushi. His flirtatious and careless antics were not going to ruin your tasting.

Muzan did not reply at first. He watched you eating for a few minutes, the flush on your cheeks tickling his ego and forcing him to swallow his pride. You looked beautiful like that, but you were beautiful in a way only a man in love would see you as. You were cute.

Just before you could assault another uramaki, his hand latched around your wrist with a firm, but gentle grip. Your gaze flicked up to him, brows furrowed in the vain attempt to see past his impassible face. It was hard assuming his thoughts. It was like he never let anybody him. Muzan Kibutsuji was just like an ancient book, written in a language yet to be deciphered by linguists and archaeologists, that kept back a ominous prophecy. He was a disastrous, cataclysmic mystery no one could ever be prepared for.

He shifted his position, scooting closer to you, until your naked knees brushed and you were forced to struggle to steady your breath. You watched him attentively, you followed the way his hand reached into the bowl of strawberries and picked one, only to dip the bittersweet fruit into the melted chocolate, coating it almost in the middle.

Half-lidded eyes boring into his ones, you parted your lips as you realised what he wanted to do. Your grip on the chopsticks loosened and the thin sticks clattered on the floor. You flinched, scared of having ruined the moment, and lowerd your gaze to your lap, but he grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Open your mouth for me" he purred, an ounce of authority still resounding in his words.

You shivered, his hand guiding the fruit towards your lips as you obediently executed his command. But as he fed you the strawberry, as you suppressed a moan at the taste of it, and his eyes bored into yours, you realized that you did not just want to please him. No, it was something boyond your mere submission. You did it willingly. Your lips had parted before he had even asked you to do it. You were doomed, he had casted his spell on you and, now, as he pushed his thumb past your lips, you were absolutely certain that you would have not been able to break free from that curse.

You blushed, as he tugged at your arm, pulling you closer to him. Your hands planted on his exposed chest, his lips hovering over yours and the electricity sparking around you took your breath away.

"What are you doing?" you breathed out, batting your eyes close.

"Isn't it obvious? – he whispered, one of his hand finding its way on your hip – I'm trying to make you like me" he said, stroking his nose against your cheek.

You scoffed "You are just messing with my head. You seem to care about... About this, about me. It feels real, at times" you replied, lifting your eyelids to argue something back.

He cupped your cheek in his hand "Perhaps, I do care".

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected confession, your will to build a wall around your heart wavering for a few seconds. Despite that, you tried your best to resist him.

"See? Stop this play, please—" you retorted, but you choked on your own words as kissed you, pushing you down onto the couch.

His lips devoured yours, his hand tracing the outline of your breast, letting it travel down your stomach and slipping past your worn-out t-shirt. You moaned into his mouth as he ground his groin onto yours, eliciting soft whimpers from your now rosy lips. You hated him, God, you really did. He was probably a master of manipulation, yet it was your fault if you had this power over you.

You had bent the knee, he had simply made you his faithful vassal.

"I'm not fucking playing, dear" he rasped, biting on your lower lip softly, after the last fervent kiss.

"Muzan... What are we?" you blurted out, his dark locks tickling your nose. You were still dazed for the thrill of the lustuful kisses he had gifted you with, therefore you had troubles in processing the words he said afterwards. But the inner, burning desire you felt for him made your tongue act on its on will.

"You are the frustrating woman who is driving me crazy, Y/N. – he said through gritted teeth, pinning your hands above your head – I am the man who is holding back not to cross the line. You are the one that I ultimately desire to have by my side" he said, watching your chest raise and fall erratically through the pants.

You looked so innocent, he almost did not want to ruin you further. But you just had to make it hard for him not to, right? You stared at him in defiance, your eyes glowing as if you wanted him to break you.

"What do you want from me?" you spat, seeking an admission from him.

"Your genuine love".

You blushed, biting the insides of your cheeks not to expose yourself too much. However, you royally messed up with three simply words.

"Court me then" you murmured, only to see how Muzan froze solid for a few seconds. You, you were the one messing with his head. You were the devil dragging him down to Hell. You had just had the audacity to ask of him something he had never done out of pure love in his own life. He courted people for business, to lure them into his trap, not to love them.

But with you it was different, right? With you, either you loved him or not, it would have been forever.

Therefore, raising on his knees, he smirked down at you "So be it. – he mused, unting the already loosened knot of his dressing gown – But I demand one last thing from you. Your complete submission".

The night was far from being over and before you could even nod your head at him, he had already flipped you over your stomach. Muzan Kibutsuji, the soon to be President, would have not left a single part of you unclaimed. You could bet your head on it.

♚

"I should have killed him when I had the chance" the tall Slayer said, pouring himself a glass of whisky. Anger, rage, he was consumed by the idea of you, the kid he had rescued that night from Muzan, currently being his newest follower. He wondered how he had failed in chopping his head off of his shoulders, or how he had failed in penetrating his heart with the blade.

Maybe, he would have missed the heart because he did not have one. Still, that man was alive and you were gone.

Kagaya joined him, their eyes scanning the cityline as they sipped on their drinks silently. There were things he wanted to say. Not only to Yoriichi, or Muzan. There were things he wanted to tell you, but he could not. How can you tell someone their entire life has been a complete lie? How could you tell them the parents they cried for every year, kneeling on their graves, were not their biological parents? You were a mistake, according to his father. You had to disappear from his son's life.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki, your father, had never gotten the chance to hold you in his arms.

Despite that, he had forgiven his father. Kindness had be instilled into you too. He had watched you grow up, rooted for you from afar. You were his daughter, no matter where you were.

"We all make mistakes, Yoriichi. We are humans, imperfect creatures failing relentlessly. – he started, clearing his throat – But there are good people out there who can forgive us, who love us despite our flaws" he calmly said, saddness dusting his pale purple eyes.

It occured to him that you could be so kind, big-hearted and good that someone would have risked it all to have you. He did not imagine it was going to be Muzan, though.

He had to kill him to have you back. For his daughter could not love such a monster. For his daughter, you, his snowflake, would have forgiven his father a second time.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there! As promised, here we are with another chapter. Yoriichi is pissed and, to be honest, we all know what a pissed Yoriichi means… Also, Kagaya is finally making his official appearence. But, above all, Muzan is slightly becoming submissive, don’t you think? Well, Y/N is clearly challenging him!

Until next, I love you!

Tags: @tired-writer04 @hjjks @kakuchosbff @yazzzmints @bookandstar @z3r0art @cherrymanhuas @kazuhaslvt @selenenyx0124 @infinitedilf @yunixkill @shigarakithings @i-loveyou013 @yoriichi-second-wife

[drearycrow]

༺ꔛ❀🦝❀ꔛ༻

Notes:I got inspired to write this fic from that one scene from The Grudge 2 where that guy is in the dark room and the ghost comes out of the stop bath. I hate that movie with a passion. It traumatized me as a child and I refuse to watch any of The Grudge movies. I hope you enjoyed the fic :)

Poe enters the darkroom and closes the door behind him. He sets down the folder filled to the brim with your photos. Some of the photos fall out of the folder and Poe desperately grabs them before they get ruined. He picks up the photos and starts to hang them up on strings above him. He sighs, admiring your beauty in the photographs.

As he is hanging the photos, his camera falls onto the floor. He gets startled by the sudden noise and goes to his camera to make sure it's still functioning. "Oh good it still works." Poe mutters to himself. He sets the camera back onto the table. Karl starts to scratch the door in order to be let in. Karl runs into the darkroom and sits on Poe's shoulder.

Poe starts to feel uneasy all of a sudden. He feels as if someone is watching him. He shrugs it off as nothing and continues to work. Karl jumps off of his shoulder and runs to hide behind a cabinet. He is shaking in fear in the corner of the room. Poe immediately noticed in crouches down to see what was wrong. "Karl are you alright? Come here let me give you a hug." Poe stretches his arms out for Karl to jump on. Karl eventually jumps on his arms for comfort. The poor raccoon is shaking in fear despite the comfort he is receiving. Poe opens the door to let Karl out.

He goes back to admiring your photos. All the photos he took are perfect. Not once did you notice him in the background stalking you as if you were his prey. He's been following you for 2 years now. Not once have you noticed his presence nor the belongings he stole from you. He took photos of you doing the most mundane things. His favorite photos are of you sleeping peacefully, unaware of your stalker standing right above you.

Poe grabbed all the photos that were blurry and low quality and threw them away. He stopped when he saw the stop bath moving on its own. He walks up to it thinking that a bug must have fallen in there. The picture of you starts to move and you start rising from the stop bath. You peek through the liquid before crawling out. Poe starts to freak out and backs away from you. Your hair covers your face except for your left eye. You crawl towards Poe in a creepy and unsettling way. Poe gets backed towards the wall unable to get away from you. He shuts his eyes in fear of what you might do. When he opens his eyes again, you are gone. He gets up immediately and goes to the stop bath. He sees the photograph is completely normal and nothing changed. He sighs in relief. He grabs the photo with some tweezers and tears it apart. He throws it into the trash. He exits the darkroom and makes sure to lock it from the outside. Poe makes sure that nobody enters that room again. He is not sure whether or not what he saw in there was his figment of his imagination. It doesn't matter in the end. He will continue to stalk you and maybe even kidnap you when the time is right. One day you will be his precious wife. He can't wait for the day to arrive.

༺ꔛ❀🦝❀ꔛ༻

[hollewdz]

Quinn and Jaz: Ch2

Chapter 1

word count: ~2k

_______________________

The street lamps buzzed to life, with some flickers of indignation at being awoken for yet another tedious shift. They waited patiently, as they always did, for one very busy college student- who was particularly late tonight. Just as Quinn turned the corner to enter the sprawling parking lot of her apartment complex, the nearest street lamp gave out, dusting her in the growing shadow of the evening. 

Still cursed, then, she half-joked. Quinn’s eyes burned and her nostrils were iced with the sharp pain of the cold winter air. She was lucky enough that her jacket could cover her mouth a bit, if she tugged at it the right way; but it only did so much when the whole back-half of her was totally drenched with ice water. As she finally approached the stairs to her apartment, her mind briefly wandered to the warm lump of a guy in her pocket. 

She felt lucky, because she’d been able to not think about it too much for the walk home- the bitter cold helped with that. But she knew that the second she got inside she’d have to address reality; And reality, right now, was that she had an entire person, on her person. Just chilling. She shivered hard at the thought, the anxiety fully overpowering any pre-existing chills. 

That feeling from earlier came clawing back, fast. The memory of seeing how her hands dwarfed Jaz, seeing him fit entirely into her glove, how that implied he wouldn’t even be hard for her to hold his entire being in one hand. She felt ill at the implications of it all, and shoved the thoughts away for Quinn-Of-Not-Right-Now to deal with. The walk home had been traumatic enough, even before all of this tiny guy shit happened, she didn’t need to process anything while her body temperature was still below average.

Finally reaching her building and trudging up the stairs to the third story, Quinn fumbled numbly for her keys and shouldered the iced-shut door open with a loud crack! Warmth kissed her cheeks and eyelids, much to her relief. Waddling through the threshold, Quinn hurriedly footed off her ice-filled boots. Not even caring about getting a noise complaint, she slammed the door shut and let both bookbags fall heavily to the floor where she stood.

Numb fingers tried desperately to claw the zipper of her coat open, but failed to get a proper hold on the slick metal tab, wet with snow. She briefly gave up on the tab, opting to undo her old leather belt and tug off her oversized, worn jeans, down to her long underwear. Fingering off her sopping socks and leaving the shedded articles at the entryway, Quinn shuffled the couple of feet to her kitchen and started her electric kettle. Running the tap hot at her sink, she held her hands in the water for some time until it was painful from the heat, reluctantly withdrawing from the temporary comfort.

With now-dried hands, she shakily pinched at the zipper near her chapped lips. A long, fluttering breath entered and slowly exited her lungs- she had to mentally prepare. Maybe the cold actually had gotten to her, and she was truly losing it from exhaustion. In a way, she hoped that was the case, because then she could just sleep it off and go back to normal. 

Oh please, respect yourself, Quinn, she internally chided, The ID, the bag, you literally have that shit defrosting 3 feet away from you. Be a big girl and get this over with.

Quinn laughed in spite of herself at that. 

With a sturdy, deep breath, she unzipped the coat and hastily tugged out the glove into the air in front of her face. A muffled Holy- Watch it!! from the contents told her that her passenger was not only real, but also had survived the oh-so-perilous journey. Slightly guilty at the jostling, but mostly cold and annoyed, she laid the glove down on the counter as gently as she could manage. 

The kettle gave a shy click to show it had done its job, and Quinn happily accepted a distraction for her hands. She readied two mugs; A pretty yellow flowered mug equipped with her favorite sleepy-time tea, and then the second mug- a wide, plain, chipped old thing that she set next to the glove, full of nothing but the hot water.

“Oh, and these might be helpful…” She thought aloud, getting two fluffy dish towels from one of the drawers below. Quinn dropped them quickly next to the glove and mugs.

“So, uh,” She started speaking to the air above the set up, not exactly sure how to interact with some guy she just taxi’d into her home, “I’m gonna go take a shower- and uh, warm up- whatever. I’m leaving for 15 minutes. You have 15 minutes to get yourself into a better state, and also to not be naked.” Wait, is that possible? her face twisted, and she started making hand gestures to no one in particular. “Just make sure you’re not… exposed… when I come back to talk, in fifteen. Eugh. Whatever, bye.”

Throwing her hands up and taking a deep, shaky breath, she spun around and eagerly shed the rest of her clothes on the way to her shower. If hypothermia doesn’t get me, cringe certainly fucking will. My god.

—--

Jaz’s head had never hurt so bad in his entire life- which was actually quite impressive, considering how many hangovers he’d dealt with. Jaz ranked this headache particularly high on his list of awful headaches not just because of the splitting pain between his ears. This headache had come with one tiny side effect, and it was bothering him to no end. 

The constant friction of the too-thick fabric rubbing his bare body was getting to be overwhelming, and going from truly freezing temperatures to a sweltering, inescapable heat was nauseating. I might actually need to buy this bitch new gloves, that’s hilarious. Whatever, she needs a new set anyway, this brand sucks. Commenting on Quinn’s gloves was all Jaz could do to distract himself.He might have been able to lie to himself and say this was all some twisted nightmare if not for how sickeningly real it all was. 

The night prior was a blur. All he knew is that he had a few shots, slept with a few girls and had a good time, like any other night. Like normal. He woke up in one of the girls’ beds around dinnertime and was kicked out before he could even ask what they were cooking. 

They were embarrassed they couldn’t cook for shit. Yeah. I would have just ordered us all whatever if they didn’t go all psycho, kicking me out. Jaz absent-mindedly ran his hands slowly up and down his arms, and shut his eyes. He focused on his breathing, and tried not to feel the heat emanating from the wall beside him. Those bitches just didn’t know I would have covered everything- gotten maids for the cleanup, had my secretary manage any absences. Damn, I should have started the night with that- ‘Everything’s on me tonight!’ Then I wouldn’t be in this fucking mess. 

Between jabs at the group of girls he had partied with, the thoughts of how unendingly vast the world felt from his nest of clothes silently fogged into his head. Flashes of seeing his fingers poke through the stitches of his own scarf, at just the amount of time it took to get a full view of Quinn. Bubbling visuals of the hole in the toe of her boot, only a couple yards from him at the time- big enough for him to walk into, with clearance. The way her shins trailed into her knees, peaking at the height of small buildings. He thought of her face; blurry and dulled, like a billboard you’re just too far away from to make out the smallest lettering. 

He very nearly retched at the thought of it all. He didn’t even realize his fingernails were leaving raw, throbbing circles now, swirling across his biceps. A sharp, thin whine loosed itself from somewhere outside, and all of a sudden Jaz didn’t have time to worry about retching, he may just start blowing chunks right then and there.

The only way he could describe the feeling was like that of the world’s least fun rollercoaster- something close to the Tower of Terror, but in reverse. His insides lagged behind whatever unnatural force was yanking him into the air.

“Holy- WATCH IT!!” He spat, hoping desperately he could be heard through the polyester and fleece. A pause told him he was heard, and he gladly accepted the much slower descent to a floor. 

Damn, who the hell let this roid-rager out around normal people? Doesn’t she know that I’m literally- 

Jaz suddenly became quite aware of how deeply his nails could go into his arms. He flinched and loosed his grip on himself, seeing pinpricks of blood on a few of the impressions his fingernails had left behind. Outside the tent of a glove, Quinn was somewhere far off giving a long spiel about showering or something. 

Showering… ‘something something naked’... Damn, is now really the time for this? Jaz was exhausted, he felt he had enough of women for the next few days. Preparing his usual script, he emerged to politely shoot her down and give her a proper rejection. Quinn, however, had scurried away. Out of sight, to some distant closet all the way on the other side of the kitchen.

Jaz felt strangely about such a massive woman truly scurrying, the way Quinn just had. Maybe she’s not as godzilla as previously thought. But looking around, he had a lot more than that to feel unsettled by than just the girl who uber’d him. 

Everything. All of it was huge.

This apartment was a stadium to Jaz- no, even bigger. A colosseum, made of plywood and layers and layers of landlord-special paint. There was so much to take in- the mural-sized art pieces on the miles-away walls, the countertop longer than a nascar track, the floor, all the way down there. That nauseous feeling came clawing back, pinching Jaz’s throat and behind his nose and cramping his stomach. 

He had to look away. 

Turning eagerly to look at what was right in front of him, he found a steaming ceramic tub was waiting patiently with two thick towels, the size of tennis courts, flung to either side. 

The realization of Quinn’s actual intention now finally dawned on him, “Oh, shower.”

Eager to get out of the stuffy tent-glove, Jaz kicked his way free of the damp, beaded, fleece lining. A cold chill hit him, and he was forced to remember why he was in that glove to begin with.

Jaz had never been shy about his birthday suit- he worked very hard for his toned and fit physique, and was known to half the campus to jump at any chance to put it on display. 

In that moment, though- standing on a countertop, the nearest “floor” being a hundred foot plummet away, and the closest exit truly impossible for him to access or use…

Jaz felt naked. He felt utterly exposed.

It was a new, supremely unpleasant feeling. His hands went back to his biceps, and he quickly recoiled at the sting. His eyes flitted to the scratches and his gaze lingered. Ever so slightly, his shoulders rose and tensed, an almost unnoticeable flicker of weakness breathed through his knees. 

Fuck it, I can clean up if I’m staying the night. Jaz clambered into the mug, steeling himself. He silently begged the near scalding water to burn out the unpleasantness- trying to find a distraction in this new sting.

A nebulous sort of respite tentatively descended upon him.

“Besides, I haven’t even really introduced myself.”