#like. he controls the needle now and can use it to make his body more appealing to himself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

haetrack · 9 months ago

Text

self control (m)

jung jaehyun x f!reader x mark lee

wc: 7.8k

warnings: smut (MDNI), fwb!jaehyun, mark has a crush on reader, fingering, light exhibition, light voyeurism, implied masturbation (male), threesome, oral (both receiving), doggy style, unprotected sex, reader is on the pill, jaehyun pushes mark around, possessiveness, barely there spanking, multiple orgasms, dom!jaehyun, switch!reader, switch!mark

a/n: this has been stuck in my head for so long and thinking abt jaehyun scares me bc i want him so bad. anyways i hope u find this a little hot… i did…

to say that you had an… interesting relationship with mark lee would be an understatement.

the shy glances, flushed cheeks, his stutters that come out while you both talk. it would be obvious to anyone that he has somewhat of a crush on you. you can see it too, but it’s not something you really want to acknowledge yet. you wouldn’t say there’s an obstacle in the way because that would be a little mean, but there is definitely a problem.

your friend (with benefits) happens to be one of mark’s own friends, jung jaehyun. to say the least, he’s certainly just a man. blissfully unaware of the tension between you and mark, oblivious to how he seems to ward away mark from coming near you. you can’t say it’s just jaehyun’s fault though, you don’t tell him to mind his business when mark tries to talk to you, you don’t shoo him away when he wraps an arm around your waist in front of mark.

it’s one night where you both are at a party, whispering in each other's ears. you’ve been teasing each other all night, no one making any moves to see who breaks first. it’s not until jaehyun tells you how mark is looking at the both of you, wishing that he could be the one next to you right now. you drag jaehyun to a bedroom upstairs, not missing how mark’s eyes follow the two of you.

so maybe jaehyun isn’t as oblivious as you thought.

“have you noticed how mark’s been staring at you more?” jaehyun questions, fiddling with the vinyl player in his room.

you pointedly glare at the back of his head, “mmm, not really? what do you mean?”

“the times i’ve invited you to come and hangout, he always just seems to be looking at you,” he finishes cleaning up his vinyl player, moving to choose an album from his vast collection.

you hum, seemingly uninterested, “at the party you did tell me that he was staring at us.”

his eyebrows furrow, “not at us. at you. he was staring at you.”

as much as you want to look disinterested, you can’t help the large grin that forms, “are you jealous, jaehyun?”

he huffs, messing with the needle of the player before the familiar tune of a frank ocean album begins, “not jealous. not when only i get to have you in my room like this.”

he moves to where you’re laying on his bed, a teasing smile adorned on your face. you move from your spot to kiss him, but he pins you back down, giving you a kiss of his own. his body moves to hover over yours, deepening the kiss, pulling away when you need a breath, “i’ll make sure mark never gets to have you fully like this. i’ll put him in his place if i need to.”

after jaehyun successfully makes you cum on his fingers, he lets you know of his plan. you give him a questioning look, but all he responds with is a proud smile on his face. “like i said,” he runs his fingers along your sides, “i want him to see what i do for you.”

as if he could be any more vague, he refuses to answer your question, deciding to cradle you in his arms instead. it’s not that you mind, but his words could mean literally anything. you think it’s quite obvious what kind of relationship you and jaehyun have, so what more needs to be shown? you have your question answered when your over at johnny’s apartment with a few other friends. on your way there, jaehyun tells you that mark is going to be there, and you just playfully roll your eyes at him.

“you seem too excited about this,” you hum.

“i have about fifty things i could do with you tonight, of course i’m excited,” he says, subtle excitement in his voice.

his words leave your mind when you approach mark while everyone argues about what movie to watch. mark didn’t join the arguing, choosing to sit back and watch everyone while laughing at their words. he promptly shuts his mouth when he sees you coming his way. you greet him, and he smiles at you, nervously laughing.

“can’t believe how you guys can get along so well when you argue like this over a movie,” you laugh.

mark clears his throat before speaking, “yeah, um, they’re always like this. i just got so used to it because i realized how funny it gets.”

at his words, you turn and see jaehyun criticizing every movie that is recommended, but when they ask him what to watch, he just stands there, mouth hanging open. you turn to look at mark, which causes both of you to burst out laughing. at the sound of your laugh, jaehyun whips his head around and sees the two of you hunched together. he doesn’t look angry, but there’s definitely an off-putting smile on his face.

in the corner of your eye, you can see mark straighten up at the sight of jaehyun. before jaehyun can turn around, you lean slightly into mark’s side, seeing how far you can push jaehyun. he just turns the other way.

they decide on a random avengers movie that you don’t really know. you don’t care, as you sit with jaehyun and mess with his fingers. you see that mark has moved closer to the tv, probably more interested in the movie than anyone else. he’s on a different couch than you and jaehyun.

the only reason you’re not asleep like almost everyone else is is due to the fact that around halfway through, jaehyun drapes a blanket over the both of you. it’s subtle, looking like you were just cold. you know what jaehyun really wants when he puts a hand on your thigh and squeezes. you try to send a pointed glare at him, but he’s making sure everyone is asleep or on their phones. you notice mark is the only one really paying attention.

he trails his hand higher on your thigh before whispering in your ear, “pay attention to the movie. try not to make too much noise, pretty girl.”

once his words register in your head, you realize that he wants you to make just a little noise. connecting the dots, you realize he wants mark to hear you in order to get him to look at you. he wants mark to see how good he’s making you feel.

heat rushes all over your body at the realization, and it only intensifies when jaehyun’s hand slides under the waistband of your pants. you give him one last pleading look before you try to focus on the screen in front of you. his hand cups your warmth, feeling the small patch of wetness already formed. out of the corner of your eye, you see him smile.

you become hyperaware of yourself when he starts rubbing your clothed clit, one of your hands moving under the blanket to grip onto his arm. you let out a shaky breath when he pulls your panties aside for better access. you didn’t realize how wet you were, not until he puts a finger inside with ease.

a small, broken whimper escapes you as he plunges his finger in and out of you, his palm rubbing your clit with the movement. you spread your legs more open, silently telling him you needed more. he complies, satisfied with your cooperation. he whispers to you one more time, “my baby is doing so good for me. so dirty, getting herself off in front of all these people. in front of mark.”

a whine escapes you before you can stop it, and you shove your face into jaehyun’s shoulder out of embarrassment. with you no longer looking around, he decides to move his fingers faster, making sure to curl them to hit that spot inside of you. you’re clenching tightly around his fingers, his hand slick with how wet you are. you keep making small noises, small slips of his name falling from your mouth.

moving his eyes towards the screen so that mark is in his peripheral, he continues. jaehyun wouldn’t normally do this, putting you on display for just anybody. he’s doing it because he knows mark wants you, thinking he could just take you away from him. his competitiveness comes roaring its head, having to show mark who you need more.

when a slightly loud whimper escapes you, jaehyun can see marks vision pulling away from the tv, looking back at you first. jaehyun moves to grab his phone, seemingly unconcerned. he can still see mark, him looking worried for you. it’s not until mark sees movement under the blanket, your face shoved into jaehyun’s side, and a small smile on jaehyun’s face that he’s able to piece it together.

jaehyun can tell you’re about to cum, your hips moving against his fingers. all while mark doesn’t turn to look away from the sight of you. you’re letting out small, jumbled words along the lines of please, need to cum, jaehyun please, hurry. jaehyun could never deny you, so he places a kiss on the top of your head and sighs out, “go ahead and cum for me, pretty.”

you let out a muffled moan, jaehyun lightly shushes you as you let go, cumming over his fingers. he helps you ride out your orgasm while mark rushes off down the hall to the bathroom. jaehyun chuckles down at the sight of you, all mussed up. once you come down from your high, you send him a pointed stare, “you’re such a jerk.”

he pulls his hand out from under the blanket up to his mouth, cleaning his fingers off from your cum. “i think mark saw us, he ran off to the restroom,” you gape at him, “think if you walked past the restroom you could probably hear him getting off to the thought of you right now.”

as much as you try to not let your curiosity get the best of you, you can’t help it. you reach over to johnny and ask if you could borrow a charger for your phone. he says there’s one in his room, that you could use it there. you thank him as you make your way down the same hallway, tiptoeing by the restroom. you carefully press your ear to the door. you can hear a low groan of your name followed by a whispered feels so good- fuck, please.

your face feels warm as you go and grab the charger, moving away from the pretty sounds that mark’s making.

the first time you see mark after the incident at johnny’s apartment, he couldn’t even look you in the eyes.

well, he could, but it was followed by a light blush coating his cheeks. it’s a rare scene to see you at a party without jaehyun attached to your side, but mark doesn’t really mind. he doesn’t feel too nervous, but the image of you cumming has been replaying in his head. he can’t mess this up, can’t let go of this opportunity with just you alone.

“so, where are your friends?” you ask mark, sipping on the drink you’re holding.

“i’m just waiting for them, they should be coming soon.”

you hum, “wished you could’ve kept me more company, mark. i like being with you.”

“y-yeah? i like being with you- like, i mean, just us two.”

“better without jaehyun, huh?” you provoke him. he laughs and looks away, too embarrassed to admit the truth. it’s not like he’s scared of jaehyun, it’s more of… a respect thing? he’s not really sure if you two are dating or just have something going on, but he doesn’t want to intrude. but he can’t really help it, not when you’re you.

he’s known you for a while now, and even then, it was jaehyun who introduced you both. the way you look at him, the way you always seem to know what you want, your presence alone makes him think of you. but every time he tries to get close to you, there’s jaehyun, attaching himself to your side. even now, mark’s eyes occasionally drift to the door to see if jaehyun’s walked in.

you lean into his side, whispering into his ear, “i think i like us alone like this, too.”

you see a pretty shade of pink wash over his face, leaning more into his side. he looks down, and you look like how you were during the movie night. this time though, you’re by his side, not jaehyun’s. he tentatively wraps an arm around your side, trying to will his hands not to shake. there you both are, at the corner of the room, just like how he always sees you.

he hears you softly call his name, and while looking at you, he sees an almost hazy look on your face. he realizes how warm you feel, looks at how you glance down to his lips, back up to his eyes. you look so tempting, there’s so many things he wants to do with you. before he can turn you against the wall to kiss you, he sees the door open out of the corner of his eye. there’s jaehyun, staring at the both of you.

against his own will, he pulls away from you. you smile back up at him before turning to jaehyun, who motions for you to join him upstairs. “maybe next time you’ll be able to join us, mark.”

before he can say anything else, you say, “promise.”

he nods and you walk away from him, weaving through other people. you wave at him before you disappear, and he’s once again alone, waiting for his friends. he lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, wishing once again that he was the one leading you upstairs. he can feel his self control slip away.

he downs all of the drink in his cup, the concoction too strong and burns going down his throat. he waits a bit before stalking up the stairs, finding the room you two were in. his hand reaches for the doorknob, but ultimately decides to stop when he hears the tailend of your conversation.

“...imagine if mark was outside the door, so desperate to hear your sounds,” mark hears a small whimper come out of you, “he’d be so hard, wishing he was the one who had you like this.”

the conversation ends, both of you too busy with one another to continue thinking about mark. mark can feel himself getting hard in his suddenly too tight pants. he brings a hand down to the front of his pants and squeezes, begging his mind and heart to stop racing. he can’t let this keep happening to him.

the next time you see mark, it’s a surprise for you and jaehyun. you’re both lounging around in your apartment, too lazy to actually do anything. as you’re scrolling through videos on your phone, you get a text.

mark: yoooo

mark: i was just wondering if you were busy or anything

you smile. and jaehyun, being too nosy for his own good, asks who just texted you. you quickly show him the messages you got from mark and jaehyun looks just as giddy as you. you type out that jaehyun is with you at your apartment.

mark: oh haha

mark: i wanted to see if you were alone

you: jaehyun says its fine with him if you want to come over

he doesn’t text back after that, so you assume that he’s given up on meeting with you. you assume he wanted to see if you really meant what you said at the party. you didn’t tell jaehyun what happened, but he did see you two together. it only makes it more exciting that there’s a small secret between the two of you. a few more minutes pass, and you don’t expect anything anymore.

it’s not until you hear a knock at the door that you sit up. jaehyun looks at you, and you tell him to go somewhere else. he sulks at you, but he obliges, opting to move to the bathroom. you calm yourself down before opening the door, seeing an almost apologetic-looking mark. it’s almost apologetic, save for the small twinge of emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite place.

“sorry for coming unannounced, i just wanted, um, to talk to you, i guess.”

“yeah, of course, come right in.” you let him inside, beckoning for him to sit on the couch with you. he looks a little hesitant before sitting down, opting to sit as furthest as he can from you.

“so… where’s jaehyun?

“in the restroom, he’ll probably be back in a bit,” you say, and he nods to your words. it feels awkward, and you’re not someone who gets awkward easily. mark turns to look at you, opens his mouth, and closes it. you laugh a little, “take a deep breath, mark. it’s just you and me in here.”

and jaehyun, mark thinks stubbornly to himself. he does take a breath, and faces you once more. it’s just you two, and the sight of you encourages him to continue. “i wanted to talk about what you said at the party,” he says, with no nervousness present in his voice, “just some clarification.”

“i meant everything i said, mark. i like being with you, even if it’s not always us alone.”

before he can respond to you, the bathroom door opens, and jaehyun walks over as if mark wasn’t sitting entirely too close to you (read: on the other side of the couch). mark looks back down to his lap, now too nervous with jaehyun’s presence. “how have you been, mark? haven’t seen you since the party the other night.”

jaehyun sits close to you, one hand making its way to your thigh, squeezing lightly. mark looks at the hand before looking to jaehyun, “i’ve been fine. just, kinda, wanted to talk to… to the both of you?”

“oh yeah? about what?” jaehyun says, a certain smugness in his voice that only you can detect. his hand moves across your skin, thumb rubbing the inner part of your thigh. you shudder, and mark doesn’t miss it.

“yeah, just about, like, the two of you?”

“well, can i be honest?” jaehyun starts, and you know he’s about to say something crazy, “to me, it looks like you like my pretty baby here.”

mark gapes at his words, mouth opening to stutter out denials and apologies. before he can do that though, jaehyun drags you fully onto his lap, pushing apart your legs with his own. mark’s breath gets caught in his throat at the sight of you, so pliant against jaehyun’s rough actions. “i saw you the other night, saw how you looked at her while she was cumming on my fingers.”

mark doesn’t say anything as he watches jaehyun drag his hands close to your core, stopping close to the place where you need him most. you squirm in his hold, a whimper threatening to slip out of your lips. you open your eyes to look at mark, finding he was already staring at you. the pink on his cheeks tells you all you need to know. he likes this.

“if you don’t want to see me get her off, you can leave. what do you think, baby?”

you whine, “i want mark to stay, want him to see me like this. want him, jaehyun.”

mark’s breath hitches, too affected by your words already. jaehyun chuckles lowly, and you feel the low vibrations against your back, “can’t believe you’re begging for another man when i’m right here,” he presses a kiss to the side of your face, “guess you’re gonna have to stay here, mark.”

you whisper out a please to him, and mark can’t say no, not when you’re looking at him with such need in your eyes. he’ll do anything in order to touch you, to feel you. “y-yeah, no, i-i’ll stay.”

“you can’t touch until either of us say you can,” jaehyun says while moving to rest on the arm of the couch, pulling you along with him, “gonna have to learn how to make my baby feel good, right?”

mark nods along, mind moving too fast to properly respond.

jaehyun pulls down your shorts, leaving you in just your panties and the loose shirt you have on. mark takes it all in, takes in how you’re already soaked through your panties, waiting so patiently to be touched, “my baby always gets so wet, she can’t hide how bad she wants you.”

before you can start whining louder, he circles his thumb over your clit, a moan cutting you off. jaehyun scoffs, “guess she needs two people to make her satisfied.”

mark’s breath gets heavy as he sees you writhing around in pleasure only from light touches. how badly he wants to reach and take over, giving you everything that you need. jaehyun doesn’t follow that line of thought, taking his time and dragging it out. “please, jaehyun. need you to touch me already, need you so bad-”

“what do you think, mark? do you think my baby should get what she wants?”

and for the first time, mark speaks up, “t-touch her already, she’s asking so nicely.” you thank him loudly when jaehyun moves to take off your panties. you look at him differently than how you usually do, your teasing eyes that are usually filled with confidence as you talk to mark. but here, your eyes are filled with compliance and neediness.

mark can now see your glistening folds, how you clench around nothing when you spot him staring. if it were up to him, he’d already have his hands and mouth on you. but with jaehyun here, he has to sit and watch, gripping onto his thighs, hoping he’ll get a chance to touch you.

jaehyun leans down to whisper something in your ear, causing you to nod fervently at his words. “my baby wants you to eat her out. think you can do that, mark?”

mark nods slowly. jaehyun moves to have you both seated properly on the couch, mark moving to sit on his knees on the floor. you’ve thought of the sight of him on his knees for you too many times since you heard him in the bathroom that night. to finally get to see him like this, just for you, has you letting out a small whimper.

mark takes the sight of you in, having you like this in real life better than anything he could’ve imagined. he scoots towards you, so close you can feel the heat of his face on you. he reaches forward, his tongue licking up your wet slit. “jesus, so fucking sweet, so wet.”

before you can register his words, his thumbs move to open up your cunt before he dives in, mouth everywhere he can reach. he slurps up the slick at your entrance, tongue prodding at the tight hole. he wonders if he’ll be able to fuck you, wonders if you’ll clench tightly around his cock like you’re doing with his tongue.

he moves up to suck on your clit, two fingers moving to your entrance. through your bleary eyes, you can see mark silently asking if he can finger you. he looks desperate through his hooded eyes, and if you focus a little harder, you can see how he’s straining against his shorts. you nod desperately, and mark responds by sliding his fingers slowly in, the feeling of your tight walls too much for his mind.

mark can’t really tell what he’s doing. it’s like he’s having an out of body experience, the sweet taste of your cunt being the closest thing to heaven. he can hear how messy he sounds eating you out, the squelch of his fingers moving inside you, the wet sound of his tongue sliding against you. it’s all too much, your mouth babbling out incoherent sentences to mark as he indulges in you.

you can feel yourself getting closer, every part of your body feels sensitive to the touch. you can feel the hard grip mark has on your thighs, hearing the small groans and whimpers he lets out from your sweet pussy. you can feel how jaehyun is hard behind your back, he softly presses into you, body betraying him. the warmth of their two bodies against you only spurring you on more.

“i’m gonna cum, needa cum so bad. please, jaehyun! can mark make me cum?”

you can hear mark groan out a jesus before jaehyun responds, “i don’t know if you deserve it, pretty girl. do you?”

“please! been so good, i’ll be so good. just need to cum-” your begging breaks off into a loud moan as mark digs his face as close as possible into your pulsing pussy, affected by the sweet sound of your voice. jaehyun tries not to smile at the sight of the two of you, so desperate to get each other off. “i guess you can cum. mark is just gonna have to put in more work.”

if mark’s mouth wasn’t so preoccupied, he’d definitely groan in annoyance at jaehyun’s words. he tries not to care though, because it’s his mouth that’s getting you off, not jaehyun’s. he wonders if jaehyun even does this for you, and if he does, mark knows he’s better than him. his thoughts are cut off by the harsh grip of your hands in his hair, pulling him close as you try to cum.

“i’m cumming! please- please d-don’t stop!”

as if he would ever deny you. he sucks at your clit, fingers prodding at the sweet spot inside of you as your thighs close around his head. mark feels how your body needs him, and it only pushes him further. he hears how you moan out his name as your hips grind against his face. he has to tell himself not to cum untouched like this, not to embarrass himself in front of you.

he helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping at your slit as he removes his fingers from you. you almost want him to keep going, not minding the slightly painful stimulation turning into pleasure. it’s not until jaehyun reaches over and threads his hands in mark’s hair, forcibly pulling him away from you. as much as you want to scold jaehyun for interrupting you, it’s more hot than anything seeing him so jealous.

mark sends jaehyun a challenging look, a small smirk playing on his face as jaehyun sweetly smiles back. how jaehyun can pretend to be so innocent baffles him, but mark lets it happen, more curious as to what will happen next.

“i don’t know about you, mark, but i’m gonna take her to the bedroom so i can fuck her,” you hit his chest at his vulgar words and he just laughs, “don’t know if my pretty girl would want you to join us.”

you look over to see how mark has reacted to his words, only to find mark staring back at you already. his eyes are pleading, hands gripping his thighs as you can see the noticeable bulge in his shorts. “mark helped me cum, wanna help him cum too, jaehyun.”

mark lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding while jaehyun contemplates on what to do. when he comes to a conclusion, he nods to himself while getting up, offering a hand to help you up. you both begin to move to your bedroom while mark just sits there, waiting for what to do. “are you coming, mark, or are you gonna keep her waiting?”

he rushes to catch up the both of you, seeing how you’re already laying in bed with jaehyun once again behind you. mark tries not to let it get to him, but jaehyun always manages to be right fucking next to you all the time. mark stands awkwardly at the door, not really knowing what to do. he feels your eyes staring at his bulge, his hands moving to cover himself as if he didn’t just eat you out.

“so here’s what going to happen,” jaehyun starts, looking at your body laid against him, “she wants you to fuck her, but i’ll leave it up to her if she wants you raw or not.”

mark has to stop the gasp trying to come out of his mouth. he never thought that he’d even get to fuck you, but now there’s a possiblity that he’ll get to fuck you raw? all he can do is nod at jaehyun’s words and look at you dazedly, tongue wetting his lips.

“come here, baby. come over to me.”

as far as mark knows, you don’t call jaehyun baby. the petname has his mind reeling, body unknowingly moving towards you. he sits at the edge of your bed, admiring the look of your body only covered in a t-shirt. he trails a hand up your thigh and sees out the corner of his eye that jaehyun’s watching him carefully. “will you take off your clothes for me? let me see all of you?”

mark mutters a small fuck as he turns away from you to undress. jaehyun has never seen you like this, more in control over mark. he lets it happen, doesn’t scold you for trying to take over. he can see how focused you are on watching mark, sees how your eyes glaze over at the lines in his back and when he slowly turns around.

mark’s cock slaps against his abdomen when he pulls his boxers down. his tip is red and leaking, and if it weren’t for the promise of fucking him, you would’ve already had your mouth on him. he makes his way over to you, kneeling down in front of your body. you sit up, hand reaching over to lightly stroke his cock. his hips jut forward as a small whine leaves his mouth, his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“please, don’t tease me. i’ve been hard for so long i- i just need you already.”

his words knock the breath out of your lungs as you sit up to deeply kiss him. he moans into it, cups your face into his hands as he pulls you closer. jaehyun watches silently behind you both, watching how mark grinds his cock into your lower belly. jaehyun’s own hand moves to palm himself over his boxers, liking how you’re enjoying yourself.

it isn’t until he starts getting annoyed with how mark looks like he’s enjoying himself too much to where he drags you back down by the hip. you lay over his lap once more, looking up at him through your eyelashes. he gives you an innocent-looking smile as you roll your eyes in return. you shift up a little, looking back at mark.

he’s looking at you again, your swollen lips, your glistening folds. he then focuses on your covered chest, eyes glazed over, wondering how your boobs look. you smirk a little, before shifting to pull off your shirt. he groans when he sees how you weren’t wearing a bra the whole time. his hands automatically move to touch you, but jaehyun immediately stops him with, “can’t touch her, not until we say.”

“but i-”

“be patient, baby. i’ll let you touch as long as you’re good for me.”

you can see how hard mark gulps at your words, his cock twitching in response. he shifts closer to you, hips flush with yours. he’s staring hard, eyes moving to take in the sight of you. you’re getting impatient, the feeling of his cock so close to you proving to be too much.

before anything though, you beckon him down to you, whispering in his ear, “i’m on the pill, baby. i’ll let you cum in me.”

you can hear how his breathing picks up at the small exchange of words. his hands grab onto your thighs, moving one up to hook around his waist. he teases his head along your slit, holding back a whimper that threatens to come out of him. you squirm under him, pulsing around nothing as you wait for him to enter you.

“better hurry up, mark. if you don’t fuck her right now, i’ll just do it for you.” mark ignores his words, giving you one last look before he slowly pushes into you. you both moan in unison, your warm walls wrapping around his thick cock. you move your other thigh to his waist in order to push him into you more, causing his hips to stutter against you.

he’s trying hard to keep himself up over you. his face is scrunched up, biting down hard onto his lip to try not to cum too fast. you’re no different, neediness taking over as you clench around him, encouraging him to move. he moves slowly, trying to get accustomed to how tight you are. he can hear the whines and whimpers you let out, but he can’t do anything, mind too preoccupied with you.

“please, mark, need you to move already. need you to fuck me so bad.” he nods, but just swirls his hips against you, only making you needier. you can feel the low rumble of jaehyun’s laugh through your body, and it adds on to your pleasure.

“baby,” his moan cuts you off, “please?”

he opens his eyes to look at you, and despite the bleariness, he can see your pretty face, the tears in your eyes as you fight back against how good he feels. he moves himself back up, ignoring how shaky his arms are, and starts to pull slowly out of you. you whine at the emptiness, before he slams right back into you.

he tries to focus on your reactions, tries to see what exactly makes you feel the best, but your tight walls make it hard for him. when he does eventually find a pace that works for you, he continues to push himself into you, your previous orgasm helping him slide into you with ease. when he angles his hips a certain way, he can tell he’s hit your sweet spot, your hands moving to his back to claw at him.

he seethes at the pain, but refocuses his attention to you when you moan out his name. he moans when you mke eye contact, dick twitching inside of you as you let out an airy laugh, “you f-feel so good, baby. bet you wanted this for so long.”

he quickly nods, “thought about your pretty pussy so much, thought about you around me. like you so much, couldn’t help but think about you.”

against mark’s better judgment, he looks down to see how well you’re taking him in, how your pussy just sucks him in further. he moans out, and you laugh again, threading one of your hands in his hair to get him to look at you. “should’ve told me how much you needed me, could’ve helped you out a lot sooner.”

he lets out a small whimper, to your satisfaction. mark can’t look at you anymore, he feels himself getting too close already. his eyes look at your chest, how your boobs bounce every time he thrusts into you. before he can move a hand to you, he sees jaehyun’s larger hands move to your chest, groping at the flesh. you moan out loud, the added stimulation making you clench harshly around mark’s twitching cock.

if mark didn’t feel so weak right now, he’d move jaehyun’s hands out the way to replace them with his own. but with the way he feels himself getting closer to the edge, all he can do is let out small whines. “can’t believe i get to be here, can’t believe i’m the one fucking my girl right now.”

mark can’t see the way jaehyun’s eyes bore into him, but mark can feel you clench around him when jaehyun tweaks your nipples. mark’s getting fed up with jaehyun, the ache in his cock not helping his actions when he sees your eyes focused on jaehyun. mark can tell jaehyun feels the same way too, or else he wouldn’t have been touching you like he is now. in an almost out of character way, mark pushes himself up to kiss you, distracting you from jaehyun.

it’s messy, drool slipping down both of your chins, moaning in each other's mouth. mark mumbles into you, “wanna cum for my girl, wanna show you what i can give to you.”

you quickly nod along to his words, “please, baby. please cum in me, wanna feel you fill me up.”

he curses under his breath, your words filling up his head. he moves one hand down to your aching clit, wanting you to cum with him. you moan a mix of his name and pleas, your orgasm threatening to rip through you. mark can feel how hard you’re clenching around him, he can feel how he’s shaking, how jaehyun’s eyes focus on you. he’s rubbing against your clit messily, too overcome by pleasure, but that’s all it takes for you to cum around his cock.

it feels so tight, nothing has ever compared to this before. all the days and nights he’s spent fantasizing about this moment could never compare to how he’s feeling now. he cums quickly after you, hips rutting against your cunt as he spills his cum deep into you, cock throbbing. he tries to help you ride out your orgasm until he feels too sensitive, slowly slipping out of you.

he tries to ignore how his cum is slipping out of you, mixed with your cum. he can’t look away, and if he had the chance, he would eat you out again, his tongue slipping against you as he cleans up the mess you both made. before he can reach down though, jaehyun pulls you up next to his side and pushes mark out the way by his shoulder.

it’s embarrassing to be pushed around by jaehyun, but mark sees how your eyes follow him, filled with a lustful gaze. he blushes and looks away, trying not to think about the current dynamic you both have him in. mark now looks at jaehyun, who looks down at the sight of the both of you. no matter how much mark felt like he was in charge, jaehyun will always be behind it all.

jaehyun coos at you, “did my baby enjoy herself? did you like having another man inside you?”

you try not to nod, but you can’t help yourself, smiling to jaehyun with a challenge on your face. you can see the small smile mark has on his face as he moves to your side. jaehyun just stares at the both of you before he suddenly grabs you and pulls you closer to him, flipping you over. he has you bent over, ass in the air as you’re faced with mark, face dangerously close to his cock.

it’s embarrassing to be in this position, but you can help how you clench at the sight of how mark is looking down at you with pink cheeks. “i think i need to show my baby what she’s missing out on,” jaehyun starts, grabbing at your ass, “show her what she needs.”

jaehyun’s pants have been pulled down, his cock free from restraints as he teases your sensitive slit. you whimper out as he does, your head resting on mark’s thigh. he bring a hand to your cheek, thumb rubbing across the skin. jaehyun taps his dick at your entrance, teasing his head in before pulling it out. you’re sure he can see how messy it is, a mix of cum slipping out of you.

“didn’t realize you can be such a slut, didn’t know you needed two cocks to satisfy you.” you whine out in response, shaking your head at his claim. he just laughs as he enters you, “i know you better than you know yourself.”

you moan out at the stretch, the angle making him hit spots you’ve never felt before. you arch your back, and jaehyun takes in the sight of you as he lets out a low groan. mark feels it too, despite the fact that he came only a bit ago, he can feel his cock grow hard again. you lazily grin at him, and he can’t look you in the eye for more than three seconds.

jaehyun thrusts into you quickly, a harsh grip on your waist as he soothes a hand over your ass before slapping it. you let out a weak whine, and jaehyun roughly thrusts into you.

“you know, mark, we see- no, i see how much you look at her.” jaehyuns hips buck into yours, “and every time, i can see just how much she looks at you back.”

mark’s whole body feels hot, and he realizes that he’s fully hard again. you look up through your eyelashes to see mark’s cock standing tall, and you discreetly move forward to lick up his length. mark lets out a sharp whine, still sensitive from before, but pushes his hips towards you. jaehyun eyes both of you, not stopping your actions. “didn’t realize how needy she can be, she’d probably let you fuck her again if it weren’t for me,” he mumurs out.

you lick up mark’s cock, pressing a kiss to the tip before hovering over it, letting your mouth swallow around his head. he tries not to buck up into your mouth, but he can’t help the heat that envelopes his cock, hips pushing into your warm mouth. you try to fit as much of him you can in your mouth, proving to be hard with the man trying to fuck you into the sheets.

“sweet girl, go ahead and tell mark how bad you wanted him,” when he gets no response, he pulls out of you, causing you to whine out, moving away from mark. “look mark in the eyes and say it.”

“n-needed you, baby. even if i fucked jaehyun, still wanted you.” jaehyun hums behind you before slamming into you again. all mark can hear are your words repeating in his head and loud squelch of your wet pussy. he tentively pulls you towards his cock again, letting you swallow around his dick. he whines when you moan around him, the vibrations causing his whole body to shudder.

“even though she wanted you, she still came to me, begged me to fuck her pretty pussy every time.” you bob your head around mark’s cock, looking up at him to see hooded eyes peering down at you, struggling to keep them open. it’s like you came out of his dream, such a pretty girl who was made just for him.

you can feel jaehyun slip an arm towards your clit, fingers applying pressure to your clit in the exact way you like it. you have to pull off of mark completely in order to moan out, your hand replacing your mouth as you jerk him off. you clench around jaehyun, hips pushing back against him to get him deeper inside. he reaches down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder, encouraging you.

“will my pretty girl cum for me? gonna show mark how good i make you feel?” jaehyun says as he pushes your head down into the bed, his own movements losing control.

as much as mark wants to scoff at his words, he’s too close to cumming again, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels himself throb. your grip around him tightens around his tip as you lose yourself, and mark ruts up into your hand to help you out. with one last look, he sees your dazed look, sees how you mouth cum for me, baby.

he does, hot cum shooting over your hand and some onto your face. your hand moves slowly up and down, helping him ride out his orgasm as he lets out a groan of your name. jaehyun takes this as a sign to focus on you, angling his hips in a way he knows will get you to cum. you’re babbling now, a mix of both names tumbling out your mouth as you beg jaehyun to let you cum.

you can feel him throb inside of you, his lack of composure showing when there’s no rhythm to his thrusts. “i’m so close, jaehyun. so close! please, wanna cum for you!”

he sees you turn your head to look back at him, your eyes filled with only pleasure as he gives you what you want. he slows down, fingers moving quickly on your clit as he says, “show us just how good i make you feel.”

at his possessive words, you let go around him, loud moans as you mvoe against him. jaehyun can feel you clench around him, unable to fight off his orgasm as he fills you up once more. mark moves to hold your hand through your orgasm, the pretty sight of you cumming almost making him hard again.

jaehyun thrusts deeply into you a few more times, letting his cum sink deep inside of you. he pulls away from you, eyes following how his cum seeps out of you. he moves to push his cum back into you, and you whine out at the sensitivity. he laughs at you, moving to lay down next to your collapsed figure.

“i thought you could take the two of us?” he says, trying to hide another laugh.

“shut up, jaehyun.” you say into your now ruined bedsheets.

you push yourself up to his side, jaehyun wrapping an arm around you as you cuddle into his chest. through tired eyes, you can see how awkward mark looks, not really knowing what to do in his post-orgasm state. you smile at him, a hand reaching out to him as you pull him closer to you.

“i’d let you cuddle her-”

you cut jaehyun off, “don’t be rude jaehyun. my sweet boy did so well for us today. right, baby?”

mark blushes as he nods, cuddling up to the side of your body. his face nuzzles closely to your chest, enjoying the warmth of your body and the glow you seem to emit. with enough space, jaehyun cuddles the other side of you, letting you press your head into his shoulder, slow breaths being exchanged between you all.

in the silence of room, you hear jaehyun speak up, “so is mark just going to join us now, or…”

“jaehyun, please, just this once, stop being jealous.”

jaehyun huffs as mark laughs into your side.

taglist: @froggyforyoongi @mwahaechz (OMG ur new user is so cute)

sidenote: who would you guys end up dating, mark or jaehyun? i was debating the whole time but like... i seriously couldnt figure it out... but like... u know..

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct fic #jaehyun smut #nct jaehyun smut #mark lee smut #jaehyun x reader #mark lee x reader #jaehyun imagines

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yawnderu · 1 year ago

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Living Dead Man - Zombie!Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

What is a husband but a man with a rotting body you can barely recognize?

CW: body horror, gore, tongue kiss with a dead man(?), is she wrong? morally, angst with a happy ending.

You examine the man as if he was under a microscope, milky white eyes staring back at you with the same intensity they always did. His balaclava was ripped off halfway, revealing a dislocated jaw, the bits of skin you could see while he was wearing his uniform were now all mangled up and pale, a contrast to the surprisingly soft skin Simon had before.

''Don't bite me.'' You warn and the zombie simply lets out a grunt in response. It has been a week since he turned, and it took hours of convincing the rest of the 141 to let you keep him— with the pretext that you could use him to try and find a cure, and maybe that was true. There was nothing you wanted more than to find a cure and turn your husband back to who he used to be. So far, nothing was working.

''I'm going to draw some blood, okay? It might sting a little bit.'' Your tone is gentle and so are your hands, carefully lifting off his uniform sleeve to reveal his forearm, needle penetrating one of his protruding veins until the blood collection tube was full of his dark, purple blood. You removed the needle, grabbing a cotton ball and taping it with medical adhesive tape. You sigh as you put down the materials, sitting down in front of your former husband... does it count as former if he's not completely dead?

''I miss you a lot...'' You start, speaking to him the same way you have been doing ever since he went nonverbal, unable to speak due to the zombification and broken jaw. Based on the grunts and the way he looks at you, you convinced yourself he can understand and knows who you are.

''I'm trying hard to find a cure. I mean, I like to believe I'm sort of close... but I don't know if it'll do much since the necessary organs are already decomposing. I'm sorry, I feel like I failed you.'' Your voice is strained as your gloved hands hold his, tears rolling down your cheeks as you silently sob, bringing his hands to your face and giving his knuckles soft kisses, the same way you did back when he was alive.

''I don't think I can go on without you, Si... I don't want a life without you.'' Your heart breaks more when you hear a soft grunt, a noise you became familiar with, the same sound he made before, comforting you when he knew you were down. Your head snaps up and you can see a small tear roll down his pale cheek, your eyes open wide as you bask in on the discovering.

''So you are sentient to some degree.'' Fuck Element 115 and fuck the zombie who bit your husband, the bastard is sentient! A scoff of disbelief escapes your lips as you smile up at him. You may not have a cure yet, but at the very least, he's not fully gone. Your hands gently caress his decomposing cheeks, testing the waters as you slowly lean closer.

Closer...

Closer, until your lips are touching his bloodied, decomposing mouth, the broken jaw forcing you to have an awkward angle to make it work. His mouth parts slightly and you take the chance to slip your tongue inside, holding in your breath to not throw up at the smell of his rot. Surprisingly, you feel his cold tongue wrap around yours weakly, his poor attempt to kiss you with the little control he has of his motor skills. You break away for a second to take a deep breath, hands cupping his cheeks while you look deep into his eyes.

''I love you. I wish... things were different. I heard they'll bomb the entire country to get rid of the evidence of the virus.'' A small chuckle escapes your lips as he simply stares at you, tears blurring your sight while you lean your head on his shoulder, tears rolling down your cheeks while you try to stay quiet.

''I don't know what to do, Si... There's really no hope. Even if I found a cure for you, we don't have access to any planes to get out of here, and any neighboring country would kill you if they see you.'' You feel cold hands attempting to hold your waist and you look up just to find he was already looking down at you. Perhaps you're that delusional, but you could swear his milky white eyes softened. You try your best to put on a small smile, even if it doesn't reach your eyes.

''At the very least... we're together. I'll see you in the next life, my love.'' He grunts softly in response and you let out a soft laugh. You ignore the panicked screams ringing through the base, closing your eyes as your forehead rests against Ghost's, one last display of love before the bomb hits, wiping out of everything you ever loved.

''Hey.'' You call out softly to your colleague, holding a skull glove that slipped out of his uniform. He turns to look at you for a few seconds, his expression unreadable even when he remains unmasked.

''Earth to Simon?'' You tease, waving the glove around for a few seconds before he gently takes it from you.

''Thank you... Stray, was it?'' He asks, one of his thin blond eyebrows raising slightly as he looks down at you. You nod your head, offering him a warm smile. You were just introduced by Captain Price, yet it feels like...

''Do I know you? You look familiar.'' A small smile is seen on his lips before he looks away, trying to keep his emotions in check. He thinks about his answer for a few seconds before it all hits you. He's...

''Ghost?'' You ask, tears rimming your eyes as soon as he nods, his arms wrapping around you tightly while he holds a hand on the back of your head, not wanting to let you see the tears escaping his eyes as well.

''Found you, love.'' A second chance at life with him.

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maybe-im-dark · 9 days ago

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Alright, let’s talk about Logan’s PTSD. People throw around the term “bad memories” or “scary flashbacks,” but for him, PTSD is much more than that. His trauma isn’t just something he can brush off or ignore—it’s embedded in him, in every single fiber of his being, and the triggers are painfully specific.

Imagine needles. For most people, needles are a brief discomfort. But for Logan, they’re a brutal reminder of the agonizing, torturous hours he spent during the adamantium bonding process. Think about it: needles didn’t just prick his skin; they drilled into his bones, pumping molten metal to fuse with his skeleton. It’s like he’s reliving those moments every time he sees a needle. It’s not just a shot—it’s the memory of lying on a table, helpless and immobilized, as they drilled deeper and deeper until he became Weapon X. When doctors suggest anything that involves needles—like an IV or drawing blood—he has to fight the urge to lash out because it throws him right back to that table.

And the thing is, it’s not just needles. Medical procedures, in general, set off alarm bells for him. Even something as routine as an EEG, where they place electrodes on his head, is a complete no-go. Why? Because it looks too much like the mind control helmet Stryker and the scientists used on him, the one that allowed them to twist his thoughts and make him an unfeeling weapon. It doesn’t matter that it’s safe; Logan’s mind is hardwired to associate it with the moments when he lost control of his own mind and body, forced to do unspeakable things.

Then there’s the ever-present sense of vigilance. Logan isn’t just “hyper-aware” like most superheroes; he’s hyper-aware to the point of exhaustion. He’s constantly on alert, watching his back, assessing threats in every room he walks into. His senses are razor-sharp, which makes it impossible to ignore any sight, sound, or smell that might bring a painful memory flooding back. Smells, in particular, can set him off. The sterile smell of hospitals, or the faint chemical scent in labs, can bring him back to moments he’d rather forget. And he can’t just shut his senses down, so every little trigger feels amplified, making it a battle just to stay grounded.

And let’s not forget nightmares. Logan’s sleep is a minefield of traumatic memories. We see him wake up in sweats, sometimes even with his claws unsheathed. He’ll wake up clawing, gasping, fighting off shadows of the past that linger long after he’s woken. For him, sleep isn’t rest—it’s another battlefield, where memories become physical sensations he can’t escape. And he’ll never fully let his guard down, even around the people he loves, because he knows that one misstep could mean hurting them, especially when his subconscious doesn’t recognize friend from foe.

Logan’s need to protect his food is something that catches people off guard. But when you’ve spent years in wars, surviving on scraps, and when you’ve gone hungry as a kid running through the wilderness, that survival instinct sticks. Logan has real food insecurity—even if logically, he knows he’s safe now.

Logan will often stash food in his room, even with Wade assuring him there’s plenty in the kitchen. He needs to see that food, to know it’s there just in case. And god help anyone who takes food off his plate; he’ll instinctively react, growling or baring his teeth. It’s not about being rude or greedy; it’s a primal reaction, a reminder of times when he didn’t know when his next meal would come.

So, no, Logan’s PTSD isn’t just “bad memories.” It’s physical, it’s mental, and it affects every part of his life—from how he interacts with doctors and hospitals to how he navigates relationships and even his own body. For Logan, trauma isn’t just something he “deals with” or “works through”—it’s something he lives with, in every moment.

#hugh jackman #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #ryan reynolds #poolverine #deadclaws #this doesn't get talked about enough #people mention his PTSD but not what it actually entails what it means #don't mention his trauma without explaining what exactly his trauma is #make it mean something

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gayhoediaz · 6 months ago

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of backshots and blunders

3.2k || E

“Fuuuuck.” The thick, long moan pours out of Buck’s throat as Tommy slowly sinks inside of him, stretching him out on his thick, long, perfect cock. It’s only the third time, but Buck is already completely and utterly fucking addicted. It’s as if he ceases to be human every time that he gets to have this - it’s just him, and Tommy, and a hot, roaring fire inside of him, craving more - nothing else matters. “Feel good, baby?” Tommy asks from behind him, his large, warm, callused palm caressing its way up his spine until it finally reaches his hair, massaging his scalp as he gives a slight grind, a sharp bolt of pleasure zipping up Buck’s spine as he pushes up against his prostate. It’s the first time they’re doing it this way - the first two times, Tommy insisted on having him on his back so he could check for any discomfort - and Buck certainly wasn’t about to complain about looking his hot pilot boyfriend in the eyes as he took him apart - but now they both know that Buck can handle it - beautifully, according to Tommy, which makes Buck feel all kinds of things - so for the first time, he’s on all fours, Tommy’s other hand keeping a firm, steady grip on his hip - and fuck, Buck thinks that this angle might be even better. “Fuck, yes,” he nearly laughs, rolling his hips back, pressing his ass into Tommy’s pelvis as he flexes his muscles, squeezing him tightly, using his insides to massage his beautiful cock. “Feel so good, Tommy,” he praises - and then, because he’s craving what he knows Tommy will grant him in response; “How do I look?” he asks, giving another roll of his hips, deliberately arching his back. “God, Evan,” Tommy sighs at that, the hand in his hair growing slightly rougher as he continues massaging his scalp, Buck practically purring like a cat, chasing the attention as he feels his other hand drift away from his hip, and down to his ass, gently pulling his cheek to the side. “Like my own personal porn star, fuck, kid, I can’t believe I get to have you in my bed,” he grunts, as he slowly pulls himself out - and then rolls back in, both of them grunting in unison, Buck’s sound trailing off into a whine. “So beautiful stretched out on my cock,” he adds on the second thrust - still keeping things somewhat slow as Buck feels his thumb drift down to his rim, pressing down lightly. Buck mewls. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he says. “Always so good for me, that’s all you ever want, huh?” “Yes,” Buck huffs, nodding sharply as he rocks his hips, enthusiastically meeting Tommy’s steady thrusts. “Can you pull my hair?” Most of their exploring has been fairly plain so far - which is not to say that it hasn’t been fucking fantastic - but they have both been a little bit more focused on Buck learning how to not choke on Tommy’s cock rather than whether or not they like having their hair pulled. This morning feels different, though - it feels as if they’re finally settling into each other, growing more comfortable. “Like this?” Tommy asks, immediately getting with the program, hand tightening into a fist, craning Buck’s neck just a little bit backwards. “More,” Buck pants, and then he swipes his tongue out of his mouth to wet his lips, but he doesn’t quite end up putting it back, instead he leaves it resting out over his bottom lip, eyes closed as he lets himself be controlled by the pleasure coursing through his veins. “Oh, more, huh?” Tommy pants, amusement painting his tone as his hand grows tighter once again, the pins and needles sensation tingling all over Buck’s scalp, just on the right side of pain as his neck is twisted even further back. “Yes, fuck, that’s it,” he praises, allowing his hips to grow even more enthusiastic as he slams them back into Tommy’s body, the thud thud thud soon echoing beautifully around the mezzanine.

continue reading on ao3

#bucktommy #911 abc #fanfiction #buck x tommy #brewrosemilk #niesfics #writing tag

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sommerregenjuniluft · 7 months ago

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the jirgin chronicals — aka tumblr user sommerregenjuniluft’s take on how it all started

for @veryinnovative & @messymoony

cw: making out, dirty talk, erections (1296 words)

Their lips part with a wet noise when they’re startled by the banging on the door, Evan’s voice droning through the wood, “Seven minutes are up, lovebirds.”

Regulus tuts, sneering over his shoulder at the interrupting, lips kiss bitten and face flushed and it makes James go even weaker in the knees paired with that annoyed look on his face.

The whimper winds itself out of his throat on its own volition and James feels Regulus smile into the next kiss. A mere five minutes ago he’d started praising James about making such pretty noises and James has been hard in his jeans ever since.

More knocking and James eases Regulus back by the jaw gently, chuckling breathlessly, “I think they want us to rejoin the party.”

Regulus clenches his fingers in James’ hair, displeased, and James’ knees attempt to buckle, “Wanna get rid of me so soon, Potter? What, am I not up to your standards?”

“No,” James’ voice cracks in his rush to reply. “No no, been wanting this forever,” he murmurs heatedly before reeling Regulus back in.

But Regulus only indulges him for a moment, tongues tangling, but apparently not done with his arguments yet, “Wouldn’t want to deprive the crowd of their star then, huh?”

And he’s pouting now, face twisted into a frown, never missing an opportunity to remind James that he’s after all their uni’s popular star athlete, that there’s miles of differences between the two of them.

Now it’s James’ turn to tut. “Regulus,” his tone stern, “I meant what I said. I really want this and you make me nervous, ok? I don’t want to rush things because it’s important to me. You are important to me.”

The younger man blinks up at James with eyes wide as saucers, expression slack, before he blinks violently, “Shut up.” He’s back on James before he’s even done speaking, gasping into his open mouth and groaning happily when their midriffs press together more tightly as James belts his arm around Regulus’ back.

After a while Regulus pulls back, smirking and wiping at the spit caught in the corner of James’ mouth. Christ.

“Is that why you acted like a fool last weekend when I came to that bonfire with Barty?”

“He cheated at that arm wrestling competition, right in front of you! And also—”

“Okay, James,” Regulus interrupts him, immediately shutting him up by the use of his first name. The look he blinks up at James through his lashes is equal parts careful curiosity and unbridled desire and James’ heart beats faster on the receiving end of it. Regulus clears his throat, “Ready to go?”

James quickly scans his own body, shuffling his feet to righten himself in his briefs.

“Oh?,” Regulus makes and James does decidedly not appreciate the drop of his voice when he’d just gotten his predicament back under control, “That how nervous I make you, hm?”

“Reg, love,” James admonishes, voice strained, letting his head loll back. “I thought you wanted to head back?”

Regulus hums, “It’s just so easy to rile you up—it’s kind of doing things to me.”

James immediately swells in his briefs again. Someone bangs at the door again. He groans, “You know I can’t go like this.”

“Guess you’ll have to conceal your lap with something,” Regulus purrs, turning the lock.

Before he can make it far, James snatches him around the hips with a little growl, pressing Regulus’ ass in front of his crotch to cover the visible bulge as they walk awkwardly over the threshold. James doesn’t have to see Regulus’ face to know he’s preening.

They plop down on James’ previous seat on the couch, Regulus dutifully propping his long legs into James’ lap. There’s a bit of heckling and needling at them staying in the closet for longer than necessary but it dies down quickly when the game continues.

Shots get handed out, Barty has to perform a card trick on Emmeline—which he fumbles, much to James’ delight—Dorcas gets her ass grabbed by three different people blindly which she then has to associate to their respective culprits, Lily performs a heated lap dance to some girl James thinks is named Amelia and then they’re back at Regulus.

“Careful, Meadowes,” he warns.

Dorcas hums innocently, giggling tipsily into Evan’s shoulder, and then, “I dare you to talk dirty to James for the remainder of the round. And convincingly! I know you have it in you, Regs.”

Regulus rolls his eyes, sighing like it’s the greatest inconvenience in the world but James notices the barely there uptick in the corner of his mouth. The younger man scoots closer, stuffs a pillow under his bottom so that he can comfortably wrap one arm around James’ neck and pull him close.

“Hi there again,” he says, grinning warmly up at Regulus. His head thumps pleasantly into the back of the couch and James thinks there’s some kind of witchcraft in the way that Regulus looks impossibly handsome from that angle too, smiling down at James.

“Hi, James,” he purrs quietly and uh-oh.

Uh-oh, because Regulus hasn’t even started yet and James is already squirming.

James winces, “You won’t go too hard on me, will you?”

Regulus’ grin turns razor edge sharp, “No, but you might.”

Oh god.

The next minutes are absolute torture for James. Regulus is murmuring about how easy he is, taunting him about the erection in his jeans right under Regulus’ thigh, telling him how thick and warm he feels, admitting how Regulus catches himself wondering about how it’ll feel elsewhere. You’re big, James, aren’t you? I can feel it—makes me want to have you all the way on the back of my tongue.

James nearly leaps out of his seat at the last comment, gripping at Regulus’ leg over his knee tightly, fingers clenching and unclenching, a strained smile on his face.

“Oh, baby,” Regulus coos and James has to swallow a whimper, “So responsive for me. You’d bend right over if I asked you to, wouldn’t you?”

Deep breath in, hold one…two…three…four, deep breath out. James’ sole focus is the spot on the wallpaper across from him.

Regulus hums calculatingly and then he starts carding nimble fingers through the mess of James’ dark hair, making him shudder through a shiver. “Look at me.”

Deep breath in—

Something wet, hot touching the lobe of his ear, suckling gently and James wheezes sharply.

“C’mon, James, don’t be difficult,” Regulus whispers heatedly.

With a gulp, James turns his head. He’s sweating, he realizes. Palm clammy where he’s absently kneading Regulus’ thigh as well as fisting the cushions.

Regulus is staring back at him from under lidded eyes and James manages a wobbly smile.

“Are you going to tap out?” Regulus rasps. His other hand is now fiddling with the thin golden chain around his neck. Paired with the slight recurring tug at the roots of his hair, it’s horribly distracting.

“What?” James blurts. His mind is nothing but soft static. Nothing matters but the warm weight of Regulus on top of him.

Regulus coos again and, much to James embarrassment, it goes right to his cock once more, “Poor, pitiful, pathetic man.”

James has to trap a strangled noise behind his teeth, “Reg, I’m– my head’s getting dizzy.”

A thumb at James’ bottom lip, “Overwhelmed, are we?”

He grunts in response, managing to nod once.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Regulus asks, putting more pressure behind the digit, letting the tip slip right in.

“Wanna kiss you,” James mumbles deliriously around his thumb.

“Not here,” Regulus reprimands softly.

Regulus makes up some bullshit excuse to see James’ room and James blinks dumbly and concentrates on not letting his knees buckle when they start making their way upstairs.

#virgin!james #the jirgin adventures #this is also for anna and lane and CASS ofc!!#jegulus #jegulus microfic #lune’s tiny fic #jegulus fic #james potter #regulus black #starchaser #sunseeker

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mysicklove · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

Paring: Sub! Akaza X Dom! Gn! Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Threatening, heavy power dynamics, edging, pillow throwing lol, growling, teeth baring, heavy praise and petting, soft dom reader and confused akaza

A/N: This was a blurb, and then a drabble, and then it hit 1k words and I turned it into a fic. Honestly, mostly akaza trying to manage power dynamics, not alot of smut.

He can’t do it anymore. He physically can’t. It’s even taking a mental toll on him.

How has he let a mere human like you take control over his body?

He has been edged for thirty minutes now. It was a long time for most people, but to him it felt like hours. He has been biting his tongue to hold back threats.

Akaza knows he likes being submissive to you, he knows for complete sure he does. He was the one to ask you to take the lead. Sure it came off as a complaint of a demon commanding a human, but you knew what he meant. He hated that you knew. It made him feel weak.

But in these moments where you deny him pleasure, he hates being submissive. He wants it all, every touch, graze, or caress. How could you deny it to him when he was the one who originally commanded you?

But you don't seem to care. You leave him hanging dry, with no fear of consequences. He could kill you in a heartbeat, but still, you torment him.

Akaza lunges for your hand when you begin to pull away from his leaking cock. Second time this has happened and he cannot be denied an orgasm any longer. He has played your good pet for too long.

He bares his teeth at you, the needle-sharp canines exposed in all their might. His face scrunches up in a glare and he can feel the rumbling of a growl in the back of his throat.

You watch as he squeezes your wrist and begins to pull it back to his now leaking dick. “Touch me.” He hisses and you raise your eyebrows at the tone.

Your hand goes limp in his hold and he tries to rub himself on it, the growls keep picking up in volume at your defiance.

He meets your stare, ready to threaten you some more, but when he sees you innocently blinking up at him, he knows how he is doing this is wrong. He knows that having a tantrum will not get him anywhere.

You always have those eyes when he acts out. When he doesn't get his way. You stare at him like you looking at a small child. It was humiliating.

You only did it when he plays the demon card on you. When he uses the strength of his body to overpower you. When he threatens to kill you.

It’s like you know he would never hurt you, you know that after all of this, he is still sits in the palm of your hand ready to be manipulated for your every need.

In the beginning it made him even more angry. He would yell and scream all the while you would sit there and take it, petting his hair and rubbing his body like you were coaxing a child to calm down. It would take him hours to let down his walls. He was afraid to be seen as weak to a human.

But now almost instantly he seems to relax. Sees those eyes and knows that no matter what he says or does you’ll always be there to bring him down. He enjoys that you make him feel small. It was sickening.

So, he drops your hand with much hesitance. You sit and wait patiently through it all, blinking up at him with such innocence eyes when he knows that you know how much power he has over him.

Just for one last release he grabs the pillow next to him and chucks it at the door. It lands with a small thud and he heaves, baring his teeth at the door while you follow the pillow with a small hum.

You bring your hand up to the top of his head and his eyes snap to you, his canines still exposed. “That’s it, let it all out.” You coo, petting his hair, and he stares in silence. His chest rises and falls in deep breathes, and his cock still pulsates against his stomach.

“Are you with me?” You whisper, tracing the lines on his face.

He begins to relax his face, his breathing goes back to normal and he gulps at you, looking away from those eyes. “Sorry.” He mumbles, clenching his fists in embarrassment. He knows you are kinder when he is polite, he has to suck up his pride.

The cooing picks up again and he feels his face burn. “That’s alright. Look how much better you are doing. Aren’t you being such a good boy, Akaza?” Your hand comes back to his cock and he jumps. You rub the tip and he has to grit his teeth to hold back a moan. “Say it, Akaza.”

Will you let him cum now? He didn’t freak out this time and he apologized. If he says what you want him to say will you finally touch him?

He can’t even look at you in these moments. “I’m a good boy…I want—Will you let me cum? Please.” He whispers so silently that you almost missed it. His face flushes under the marks and he grabs at the sheets beneath him. He listens to the satisfying tear of the fabric.

You smile ecstatically and he flinches, still getting used to the praise. “Just three more. Can you withstand it three more times? For me, baby?”

Another humiliating nickname. If anyone knew that he let you call him this he would have to kill them.

But he wasn’t focused on the nickname. He feels your hand drawing back. He can’t do it three more times. He is bound to get frustrated and yell or break something, accidentally break you. He can't help it. It hurts.

But he can’t seem to find the words for his complains, so he does something for the first time since he met you. He whimpers.

The sound makes his widen eyes snap back to you, hoping you didn’t catch it, but with that grin on your face he knows you did. He tries to pretend it didn't happen for the sake of his pride.

Your hand is back on his cock in an instant.

After the first two denials he begins to sweat, his heart hammers in his chest and he is clenching the sheets with eyes screwed shut. He feels the urge to yell, to command you to touch him, but he holds back. For both your sake and his own. His tongue is covered in bite marks from his very own teeth.

The third denial was the roughest by far. You tricked him, saying stuff like, "Now I'll let you cum." and "It's going to feel so good, right love?" Which made him believe that you missed counted. He didn't say anything, he wanted to let you think this was the third one. He wanted his high desperately.

You pull away at the last second and he wants to yell, scream, do something, but instead he cries in pure frustration. Globs of tears drip down his face and he continues to tear through the sheets as if they were nothing but paper.

"Please!" He begs for the first time tonight. His body racks with the sobs and he leans forward to lean onto your chest as if he really was a small child. His whole cock is covered in his pre cum. It makes him feel sticky and gross. He wants you to make it stop.

You run your fingers through his buzzed hair and murmur sweet nothings into his ear. Finally, you give in, bringing your hand down and begin to set the pace once again. He lets out his moans and whines now, too sensitive and overstimulated not to. His mind is disoriented from the praise dripping out of your mouth like honey.

It only takes him five pumps for him to cum. His back arches and he has to quickly remove his hands from your body so he doesn't accidentally dig them into your skin. He doesn't moan, instead, it comes out as long shaky gasps and rapid muscle contractions. White liquid lands on his chest and your leg.

When he comes down from his high, he doesn't speak. He sits and listens to your praise, no longer feeling embarrassed about it. Instead, basking in the warmth of your words that makes him feel lightheaded.

#dom! reader #smut #kny smut #akaza x reader #x reader #reader insert #sub kny #sub! kny #sub akaza #sub! akaza #akaza smut #demon slayer akaza #akaza x you #Akaza x reader smut #demon slayer smut #kny akaza #akaza demon slayer #dom reader #dom reader kny

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pascallllllll1 · 2 years ago

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Dizzy Spells

Pedro Pascal x Reader

Word count: 1K+

Description: Pedro being the caring and loving boyfriend he is forces reader to get looked at after experiencing dizziness and fainting.

Warnings: Mentions use of IV’s/needles and unplanned pregnancy. Age gap relationship (very legal)

Pssst!

“Hey! Don’t play with that!” Hissed your overbearing boyfriend who currently resides at your bedside while reaching to stop you from fidgeting with the tape holding the IV in place. You’ve never been a needle person, your parents always scheduling appointments with your family doctor growing up for vaccinations and shots to save you the embarrassment of having a melt down in front of school nurses through the years. Now coming into young adulthood needles continue to make you very nervous, but you're not a blubbering baby that needs to be held down anymore. Some might call that growth. Right now you’re just thankful to whatever higher power is out there that Pedro won’t have to witness hysterical sobbing caused by a tiny needle, all because you’ve been light headed lately and may have fainted a few times. Which leads you to now, where you lay attached to an IV keeping you hydrated while reclined in the stiff bed, your boyfriend of only 5 months by your side stressing over every little thing while waiting for the doctor to come back with test results from your blood work.

“I’m sorry! It’s just really itchy. I wanna go home babe, I really don’t see why we had to come there’s nothing to worry about! It’s probably low iron or something.” Whining you poke out your bottom lip and look up at Pedro with big doe eyes and rest the side of your cheek on his broad shoulder. With a deep sigh Pedro opens his mouth to begin his speech on how it’s better to be safe than sorry and how he cares about you taking care of yourself when two short knocks come from outside the waiting room door. You're quickly repositioning yourself and begin sitting up eager to get this over with and calling out whomever was waiting on the other side of the door to come in. A tall busty woman walks in, clipboard and files in hand looking about Pedro’s age if not older, she looks over to you both when crossing the space to the end of the bed and does a double take when looking to Pedro then back to yourself. You can hear the hesitation in her voice before she asks,

“So who have you brought in with you for support today… Y/N?” She glances down at the now open file to double check your name before her eyes meet yours again waiting for an answer. Nervous, you look to your left hoping for Pedro to speak up for you. Suddenly realising how the question may have come across to you the doctor clarifies her meaning.

“I’m sorry, it’s just your results have come back and due to the nature of them I wanted to confirm you wanted him in the room to hear or if you’d like privacy and for him to step out a moment.”

“The nature of them?” Speaks up Pedro worriedly, concern deeply etched across his face. The doctor looks to you for confirmation that you’d like him to stay. Your mind is spiralling out of control with ideas of what’s wrong with you, what could possibly be going on inside your body, and already searching for ways to solve these hypothetical scenarios reeking havoc in your head. Needing Pedro now more than ever for moral support and comfort you nod to the woman to continue on with the test results.

“Ok. First and foremost I’d like to make it clear that you are healthy and nothing is wrong with you.”

Pedro exhales shakily at the new information and pulls you against his chest with his left arm around you, he kisses the side of your head and takes a moment to breathe you.

You look up to the doctor and ask,

“So what's going on with me then? How come I’ve been so dizzy and fainting?”

“Because you’re pregnant, about 3 weeks along.” Your body tenses up when you feel Pedro quickly release you from his embrace and shoot up out of the bed towards the doctor. The sound of a file opening and paper being hastily sorted through fills your ears. This is way too early in the relationship to be happening. Does he want a family with you? To marry you? A future? Does he see you as his end game? For crying out loud you weren’t even together publicly yet- HIS FANS! How would they react? Would they hate you over such a large age gap? Would they hate you for taking him off the market? Would they hate you for trapping him with a baby? Would he still have a career or would his fans drop him because of who he’s with? You couldn’t live with messing up his life. His dreams and achievements he’d worked so hard for. A large familiar hand pulls you out of the black storm of doubt and back to the present moment. The other comes up to cup the side of your cheek and trace a delicate thumb over your trembling bottom lip. Shifting your focus to the man now kneeling on the bed in front of you, your eyes are met with tearful brown ones staring back at you, undeniably full of love and childlike amazement.

“Baby,” Pedro pauses and takes a moment to clear his throat and sniffle,

“I will support ANY decision you make, and YES this is all 100% your decision to make,” closing his eyes as his voice breaks Pedro exhales loudly and wipes at his eyes before his hands resume to their previous spots.

“But I want to make it so very clear baby, I will stay by your side and support you and our child, I love you Y/N. I want our family if you’re willing to give it to me.” Looking at the man across from you now, there’s not a doubt in your mind that he’s the partner you want to have in life. You and him. Seeing the love he has for you, for your unborn baby who you’d literally just learned about triumphs any previous worries you’d had initially. He’s your person and your his, together you’ll share the most special experience two people can share, raising a child.

“Our family.” You whimper out.

“Our family.” Pedro confirms wrapping you up tight in his arms.

Thank you for reading!! I’m still learning and figuring this all out so any comments are more than welcome! I’d also like to mention that yes I’m writing about Pedro Pascal himself but I’d like to make it clear this is all pretend and a fake fantasy. In no way do any of us know who he really is as a person and this isn’t me trying to make him something he isn’t just sharing my personal daydream fake scenarios with y’all! Hope you enjoyed:)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction

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atzfilm · 1 year ago

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— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [3] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader, mxm (this chapter); yunho x reader; 10.9k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind. also note: these chapters are very much introductory of each character & their roles, so smut is further down the line ♡.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping, emotional turmoil, injuries, descriptions of gore, needles

Chapter 3:

The days seem to drag on. Rarely do you run into anyone else in the home. Awake at early hours of the morning, grab something from the kitchen, stay in your designated room throughout the day. It's a routine you've made for yourself; none of the Unseelie bother you. They leave you alone to your thoughts, even Wooyoung, surprisingly. So here you are, peeling off the skin of an orange as you sit on the balcony. Tossing it to the ground below, taking slow bites. Do the townspeople worry? Now that you're gone, do they wonder what happened? Has anyone seen the aftermath of your shop – back door ripped from its hinges, bookshelves broken, piled on top of one another? Do they care?

Has Soobin come back yet?

Your eyes move to the loud steps on the porch to the left of you. Yunho stands there with someone. You're not too sure, you've never seen this faerie before. Height matches Yunho's, arms crossed as he speaks. You can't hear what they're arguing about, their eyes flicking up to you. You pause in your eating. Yunho nods, a small smile on his lips. The other doesn't say anything, giving you his back. He leaves the house behind, ignoring the yells of Yunho. Your teeth almost puncture your bottom lip at the sight. You expected him to walk through the barrier they've created, but his clothing shreds in an instant, body disappearing from view. The pieces slowly float to the dirt.

There's no reason for you to be shocked at all since they are Unseelies, but seeing someone dissipate, just like that?

What have you gotten yourself into?

"He's having a moment, no need to be alarmed," Wooyoung says. You jump at the sound of his voice, looking to the side of you. He sits on the railing, leg swinging. "Mingi doesn't like to be put in a situation he can't take control of. Yunho just told him about you staying. He isn't exactly happy about it."

"I didn't choose this," you murmur.

Wooyoung shrugs, "And that's what makes him more angry. You didn't choose to stay so he can't be angry with you. He trusts us, our opinions. So when his own thoughts conflict with ours, it's a lot for him. He then turns into that raven and leaves for a while."

"Hm."

Wooyoung turns to you. His clothing is loose, a brown, sheer robe draping over his lean frame. The shoes are long gone, tan skin shown. You can see the outline of his chest, the transparent material not leaving much to the imagination. If you squint, you're sure there's tattoos decorating his skin. But you look away after the brief silence, not wanting to let your eyes linger on him longer than they have to.

"We're having a harvest celebration soon," he begins. "Other faeries and Unseelies will be joining."

A party at a time like this? And while you're out and about in the hallways? Unseelie aren't tolerant of humans from what you can see. This occasion will only lead to terrible things.

"When?"

"Tonight," he smiles. "Right in our dining hall and parlor. It'll be fun. Happens once a year. You should join, pretty."

"A human celebrating with faeries? Sounds like a recipe for a disaster."

His grin widens, "Even better, no? Everyone in our spark will be there. You'll get to see all of us at once. Instead of avoiding us at every chance you get like you've been doing for the past couple of days. We've all noticed by the way."

"I'm here for Seonghwa’s tests and nothing more. I don't have a reason to go to that party."

"But you do, solaris." The nickname slips off his tongue with ease, as if you didn't yell at him days prior for it. Again, another silly mistake on your part to think he'd ever stop. "Trust me when I say it'll be advantageous to not try to avoid this one. Luck won't be on your side." He waves, sliding off the banister. You look down to see if he landed but he vanished from sight completely. Another thing you haven't exactly gotten used to. Knowing they're Unseelies is one thing, but seeing the magic first hand is another. You stand up from your spot, stomach growling.

This time of day is what you dislike the most – the Unseelie are roaming, doors opening and closing, laughter echoing through the hallways. Instead of it being comforting it only causes you anxiety. Their promises of not hurting you fall on deaf ears. You don’t doubt that whenever they are finished with their experimentation, they will end your life. It is mindless for you to even stick around here.

“Not like I have much of a choice,” you murmur, glancing at your bedroom door. A soft knock startles you, but you walk to it anyway, swinging it open. Seonghwa stands there, eyes flicking over your attire before meeting your eyes. The Unseelie provided you with sleepwear – which you vehemently refused. So you soaked your own clothing in soapy water last night and let it hang dry until early dawn. It’s more than wrinkled, still a little damp from the lack of sunlight in the forest.

“You didn’t take the clothing.” he states. It’s not a question, so you don’t bother answering. His eyes narrow. “You look unkempt.”

“You would say that even if I wore what you gave me.”

“Being stubborn will only get you so far, human. Here,” he holds out a small container, filled with breakfast food. Why it bothers you that he did not deny your words is beyond your own comprehension. “I need you to eat before I pull more samples. Having you faint is not ideal.”

You hesitate. The rules you’ve written down play over and over in your head. The first one on the list that you have no choice but to break. Do not eat what they offer. You take it from him, thanking him quickly. He merely shrugs, turning on his heel.

“Follow me. Close, please. The others are around all late morning into the afternoon and I’d rather not have any distractions pulling you away.”

You take his word for it, sliding an apple slice between your lips as you follow. A loud crash echoes around the hallway and Seonghwa glances to the side for a moment. His brow quirks in irritation, looking back at you. “Ignore him, he’s starting trouble again.”

“I’m not,” Wooyoung’s loud tone echoes through the hallways and you definitely take the advice of Seonghwa, stepping a bit closer to him. Seonghwa enters his lab, holding the door open for you. You step inside and he takes the key from the lock immediately, slipping it into his pocket as he closes the door. He sees the questions in your eyes, and nods.

“If I didn’t we’d have another surprise guest. Yunho will be back soon, so while we wait we should continue with testing. Please take a seat across from that table,” he points further into the room. Just like his library, the lab is neatly organized, books of equal height shelved next to each other, binders of what you can assume is research, labeled and placed in height order. Vials line the wall as you sit, Seonghwa’s steps silent as he sinks in the seat across from you. Between the door and you sitting he somehow changed his clothing, a lab coat covering his attire, sleeves lifted and gloves stretched over his fingers. He holds out his hand, palm up. You place your hand in his, and he thanks you, reaching for the syringe.

“I didn’t think I’d need more blood from you,” he starts, pulling off a tab. He curses to himself, placing it on the table and reaching for a small alcohol pad, wiping off your skin. “But one of my spark took some blood off my shelf, mistakenly with your sample as well.”

You’re not too sure how to feel about your blood being stolen.

He senses your perturbation as well, continuing. “We prefer not to conjure blood curses unless absolutely necessary. Despite us being Unseelie, the process to perform creates a heavy burden on our bodies. As to your blood and well, human blood overall, we use it to aid in potions and other things. Nothing with much substance. San used it to assist with something he was practicing with Yeosang.”

“Your explanation only makes me worry more.” And you haven't the slightest idea on who these people are that he's mentioning.

“No need to, we can’t truly bind you to anything if your mind and soul are not willing,” he lifts a tub, inserting another into the holder. His hand holds your arm, eyes glancing at your upper arm. You cannot see it, but something wraps tightly around it, lifting your skin. He presses his finger against your vein again, before slowly sliding the needle beneath the surface. The pressure is gone as you watch him fill the vials.

“Wooyoung told me you were displeased with the nickname he uses for you,” he glances at you, placing another tube in the holder. “You should be thankful. It’s rare that he cares for something enough to create one.”

“Is it necessary? My name is y/n, nothing more,” you say. “My partner didn’t even call me anything other than my name.”

"He never used nicknames with you." He states matter-of-factly.

"He always thought they were a bit silly," you murmur. You notice Seonghwa gaze lingering on you in the silence. "What? Is that so strange?"

Seonghwa furrows his brows. "Not quite. But I've seen how humans interact. How they create nicknames for ones they are fond of. It seems strange that your partner of several years wouldn't make up something endearing."

His observation makes your thoughts muddle. Soobin cared for you in ways you can’t quite describe. Did it ever bother you that he only called you by your name? Not at all. But the more you dwell on it, the more your stomach turns. You decide to change the conversation. "Are you saying you are fond of me, Seonghwa?"

“I’ve never used a nickname for you.”

You widen your eyes, “Did an Unseelie just lie?”

He scowls. "I’m not lying. Why would I call you anything else?"

“You call me human almost every time you see me. Is that not a nickname?”

Deadpanned, he continues, “Calling you what you are isn’t exactly what I’d consider a nickname, y/n. As I have said before, you are just an experiment.”

"And if I weren't?" you tease, leaning forward. "What's the first thing you think of when you see me? An annoyance? Irritating?" It's only a way to poke his buttons, but he just stares at you, thinking. Quite hard. The silence is long enough that you lean back, clearing your throat. "I was kidding."

"I wouldn't be able to call you anything other than beautiful, y/n, if I were so fond of you. You are kind and merciful, proud and resilient. Human words cannot describe it. I can see why your former partner adored you; it's hard not to."

You're not sure what else to say, his words more than shocking. He cannot lie. He believes everything he just said. And that scares you.

"You're afraid," He says simply.

"Yes."

"Of?"

What a hard question. "This. What you just said."

"I can't see why. Beauty comes in many forms," he explains, sliding out the needle. He grabs a small square of gauze, pressing it lightly into your arm. "It would be foolish of me not to see it in you. Have you forgotten that before all of this that us two were friends? Even if it was manufactured by me at the time, it shouldn't be surprising that I feel this way. I've seen how you've interacted with other humans. You are kind, patient, soft spoken. You fear what you cannot predict, but you don't let it stop you from continuing. Even now, you are worried about a bookstore that is not even yours. I am not lying when I say that I find your existence beautiful in itself. Humans are often selfish. But you, you seem the opposite."

He places a bandaid over the hole, "Done for now."

You nod slowly, holding your arm close. Seonghwa pushes the food closer to you, standing up and taking the vials. Not often are you left speechless. From what you know, what you've read, Unseelie do not love the same way as humans. He probably doesn't understand how words like that could affect you. Yes, that's right. It's an objective look, an affirming statement. Nothing more than observations.

Seonghwa moves to the door, opening it. Yunho enters, resting his jacket on the coat rack. His eyes relax when they meet yours, waving. "There you are, pretty girl. Sorry for my late arrival. Our meeting lasted longer than deemed necessary. Quite annoying," he glances at Seonghwa. "The tests are what we talked about, correct?"

Oh.

The two of them talk to each other, but your mind is stuck. Glued even. How could he let those two words just slide from his lips? Pretty. Girl. No. Your mind is playing tricks on you, you decide. Yunho is kind, sweet even. But that? That.

You can't even begin to fathom the reason.

"y/n?"

You're pulled out of the depth that is your thoughts, Seonghwa waiting. "Do you feel faint? Should we wait until you've eaten more? You look as if you've seen a specter."

You shake your head. "No. I'm good. Perfect even." The grin you plaster on your cheeks must be horrendous, Seonghwa’s lips forming a scowl.

"We'll continue, then. You would think that a human being able to lie meant that they could perform it with ease. That doesn't seem to be your case, though."

This time you frown. "Thanks for that, Seonghwa."

He shrugs. "Truth hurts. Yunho will perform his tests now with you. I'm not needed for this, so I'll be in my library. Hesitate to bother me, please." He exits, tossing the key to Yunho. Said man locks the door, turning to you.

"Is he always this grumpy?" You ask.

"Unfortunately yes. Shall we begin?"

The test is simple.

Yunho holds out his hand, you take his. His eyes rest on yours as he tries to listen to your thoughts. It's easy enough, not much that you need to do. The others have said it failed previously, so it's very likely that it may fail again this time around. The likelihood of it does not settle your heart though. It still thumps against your chest as it always does when any of them are around. A defense mechanism, sure. No way for you to control it. Your palms aren't free from the nerves either, clammy. You wipe them on your pants for the nth time.

"If I can listen it'll prove enough. My perception abilities only go so far. I'm not as majikly inclined compared to San or Mingi. Rarely do I ever use it, I won't linger longer than I need to."

"Do you promise?" It may be an empty one, but you must be sure. It'll help your heart stop hammering against your chest.

"Of course. A test now and nothing more," he assures you, palm resting on the table, waiting for your hand. The moment is slow, your palm dropping onto his. He lets his long fingers curl into yours. "Look at me, pretty girl."

"...Can I talk?" You ask, and he nods.

You meet his gaze. The brown of his eyes and hair begin to slowly change. Brown darkening into a deep burgundy, lighting up the more you look at him. The situation is strange in itself, but his eyes are still kind.

"Why do you call me that?" You ask.

His lips quirk, "Pretty girl?"

Your fingers tighten slightly in his hold, before nodding. "Yes. That."

"I overheard the conversation between you and Seonghwa. How your former partner never called you anything special. I thought it was… weird, I suppose. Since I first saw you, I thought you were pretty. And," he glances away from you for a moment. Your mind must be playing games – pink begins to dust his cheek. No way. He wouldn't be blushing, would he? No. Just a trick of the eye. Probably because of his red hair. "It's the first thing that came to mind when I saw you sitting here waiting for me. I couldn't help it. I do find you pretty, y/n. It shouldn't be that strange to you."

You use your free hand to rub the frown lines on your face. "Ah. No. I'm just surprised, that's all."

"Why?"

"I mean, Yunho…" It's hard to explain when he's looking at you like that.

Guilt begins to rise. You shouldn't be this way. But the more you listen to him, the more wrong you feel. It's only been a few months without Soobin. Entertaining someone, especially a faerie, an Unseelie… you can't. Not when you really haven't moved past your ex-boyfriend. You still think of him daily. No matter how warm someone else looks at you, you just can't. Not now.

"I hope you keep that nickname to yourself," you say. "I don't think I want to hear it from you."

"Oh," you don't notice the change in his expression. It's subtle. Brows slightly arching, an irritated twitch of his lips. It disappears when you look at him. "I never wish to make you uncomfortable."

"You don't make me uncomfortable," you state this plainly, sure to keep your tone neutral. "But I'm just not used to things like that. I hope you understand."

"I do," he nods. "But if there comes a time when you're not so hesitant, please tell me. I wouldn't mind calling you that instead of your name, y/n."

It's no surprise his simple words make your heart skip a beat.

"Okay. Thank you for listening to me," you say. His head tilts, eyes still on yours.

"No need. Still can't read those thoughts of yours," Finally looking away, he sighs. His fingers slip from yours, the warmth gone. "I guess we'll have to try something else. Or just wait and see what Seonghwa has found."

Just like that. You pull your hand back into your lap and enclasp your fingers. Hoping that same warm feeling will come back somehow.

Silly.

"What will you do when you find out?" You ask.

He thinks. "Figure out a way to stop humans from having your trait, ability, whatever it may be. Your existence is one thing. If you're one in a billion, a slip in the evolution process, then that's fine to us. We just can't have it happen over and over again, you see. But I'm sure you know the reason why. You're not a selfish one."

He stands, adjusting his shirt. "You didn't eat much. May I…?"

You look at the assortment of fruit Seonghwa gave you, most just picked at. You nod, expecting him to grab the ones you haven't really touched. Instead, he takes one of the apple slices you've bitten already, sliding it between his lips.

"Tasty," he grins. "You taste good."

You can't control your blinks, confusion etched into your features. No, you couldn't have heard that right. No. So many thoughts cross your mind, many not too appropriate for the situation you're in at this very moment. Yunho grabs another fruit you bit into, humming. "Sweet."

Your eyes widen.

"Something wrong?" He asks, darkened eyes staring unrelentingly. The air in the room feels denser, thickened with his mere look. You can't look away even if you want to, fingers digging into your pants.

"I put the samples away," Seonghwa enters the room. Yunho breaks eye contact with you and you let out a long breath, chest throbbing from how hard your heart was racing. Yunho's expression is back to how it usually is, soft eyes following Seonghwa’s walk. As if he did not just freeze you into this very spot. If Seonghwa notices anything he doesn't say a word, grabbing his fleece off a chair and sliding his arms inside.

"Hongjoong wants to see you." He looks to you, gaze roaming over your clothing. "I would prefer if you wore something more appropriate when meeting him. Dressing as you are now is a bad look."

"He wouldn't care if she wore nothing, Seonghwa," Yunho shrugs. "You know that. And there's nothing wrong with her attire now. You cannot expect her to scroll around with those horrid faerie clothing you've given her. None of it fits properly."

"I said that I would prefer it. Hongjoong is a different character," Seonghwa rolls his eyes. "But it doesn't matter. He wants to see you now, so there's no use in trying to change. Come, human. Yunho, San needs you to help with the decor. Jongho is having another fit."

Yunho's jolly expression breaks for a second, an irritated twitch in his brow. "Has he broken the lighting again?" He nods, a groan escaping him. "Perfect." He bows his head at you before leaving.

"Come," Seonghwa turns to you. "Or would you rather help with the mess?"

"I'd rather not be here at all."

Seonghwa cracks a smile, "Don't we all?"

You stand from your spot. Just as you're about to leave, Seonghwa hesitates. You cannot utter a word because he starts first.

"Take his words with caution. Hongjoong is a character to say the least. Though most of us are straightforward with our words, Hongjoong likes to play a lot with it. You cannot be sure of what's next to come out."

"What are you telling me this for? To run?"

He turns around. The solemn expression makes your own mask slip. "If needed, yes. I will not be far unless someone pulls me away. But on the off chance that I'm not around, don't waste time to leave. The barrier is gone right now. You'd have a better time escaping the woods than staying with him."

"He's your leader, no?"

Seonghwa nods, "And this is why I'm telling you what I am. Be careful, y/n. You are a mere rabbit in his eyes. Nothing more than that."

—

Seonghwa’s words repeat over and over in your head. A mere rabbit. Prey. You're not foolish to know that your stay here is temporary. Hiding your anxiety at the situation is what you've done, what you've been doing. But having to pretend in front of the leader, holding back your fear? You don't even know what he looks like.

Why did Soobin make you go to that stupid festival?

He is just on the other side of that door. All you have to do is knock. That's all. Your hand hovers over the wood.

The door swings open. You expect to see someone standing there but instead, there's no one. You slowly enter, glancing back. Seonghwa left you alone to deal, unfortunately. Just as you move out of the door's proximity, it closes itself, locking. You can help but let out a low laugh. Mythical creatures being real is something you'd never wrap your head around. The hallway is dark, luminescence peeking from underneath a door further away. You take another long breath, before opening it yourself. Immediately, your eyes move to him.

He is Unlike the others, that you can see. When you first learned of him, you thought he would be stern, rigid. Instead, you stand at the doorway to his spell room – a clap echoing as he stares at the table filled with vast ingredients.

"Finally," he breathes. "Took three hellish hours. Ah," He pauses.

He turns to you, wholly black gaze blinking away into a softer brown. The sight isn't terrifying in itself – it just scares you that you cannot distinguish him from another human, aside from his quiet beauty. He hides his potions away, leaning against the tabletop. You do not say a word in fear of upsetting him. He seems to notice this, head tilting as he stares at you.

"Oh, so you are the dear, pitiful human that has gotten my spark all ruffled up? What to do with you?" He smiles.

It is all but friendly.

His stature is on the shorter side compared to the rest of the Unseelie you've met thus far, about Wooyoung's height. His black hair is wild, strands scattered about, some tucked behind his ears. A seemingly permanent sly smile coating his lips. You can see why he's their leader. Charisma oozes from him despite having said no more than two sentences. Two sentences that have left you utterly speechless. Choosing your words carefully, you finally speak.

"I've heard some things about you," you say. A sleek brow of his lifts at your words, daring you to continue. You take the challenge. "Hongjoong, leader of your spark."

His grin is slow, eyes flicking between yours as it widens. His tongue drags across his lips, playing with the piercing hooked into the bottom one. A quick glance and you see several – studs lining his ears, fingers covered with golden jewels. A small amulet resting on where his pulse beats on. "In the flesh. Humans haven't seen me in centuries. You should be proud to even grace my presence, my pretty star." He glances behind you. "Everyone else seems interested in you as well. It took many of months to finally see you for myself. I have to admit, I do see the unwavering appeal. Ordinary looking, but there's something," his eyes roam over your outfit. "Your aura, maybe. What do you think, Mingi?"

"I think we should get ready, Hongjoong."

You tense up at the deep voice, looking back. Well, looking up. Mingi stands not a breath away from you, barely giving you a glance as you stare up at him. His golden clothing is as wispy as Wooyoung's, sheer against his chest and darkening as it flows down. You take a step to the side to bring some distance between the two of you, heart racing. You're only startled every time one of them pops up. And from the disappearance act you witnessed earlier, Mingi can make himself do it with ease. You would expect someone of his size to at least make a bit of noise when he enters a room. His blonde hair is neatly slicked down, mossy green markings starting at the curve of his jaw, covering the rest of his body. Mingi clears his throat and you look away from him.

The tales didn't mention that Unseelie were all unnaturally beautiful. Though it does make sense. You can't see how humans will follow them to their deaths otherwise. Even you, knowing what you do, are already falling without trying.

Falling for their traps, you correct yourself. Nothing more than that.

"Ah, and I assume that she will be joining us?" Hongjoong glances at you. "It'll be a very interesting gathering."

"Chaotic to say the least," Mingi sighs softly. "We should just lock her in her room until sunrise. The others will smell her, but there will be spells and other spoils to deter them. I'd hate to have to care for the human all night."

"I'm not a child," you frown.

Mingi does not bother looking in your direction nor acknowledge your response, "Wooyoung should watch her, not I."

"Neither of you are watching her. Yunho will be by her side most of the night."

Mingi's eyes widen briefly, "Hongjoong, is that the best choice at this time–"

"Take her back to her room to get ready," Hongjoong turns to you. "We've prepared a few outfits for you to try. It'll help you blend in more with the rest of us. If any are unsatisfactory, I'll have Yeosang conjure up another. Until you are satisfied with your choice."

You shake your head, "Not needed–"

"I want my star to shine bright tonight, y/n. You will not be dull when everyone else is watching. I bid you adieu–" He giggles. "I've always wanted to say that." He looks back at Mingi. “We’ll talk after you drop her off and get ready yourself, there’s much to do to prepare."

"Hongjoong…" He sighs. The leader does not bother saying anything else, turning back to his assortment of potions. Mingi finally looks at you. "Please follow me."

"I know where my room is," Your words are neither heard nor acknowledged, Mingi disappearing back into the dim hallway. You follow after swiftly, his pace much faster than yours.

You stumble after him through the hallways, passing by your designated room. "Hey, Min…"

He stops. His steps are quick, barely a breath away from you. You step back as he steps forward, your back hitting the wall. Anger resides in his eyes as he stares down at you. "You do not utter my name. You do not acknowledge me outside of forced interactions by one of the others. We do not speak to each other unless absolutely necessary. Do you understand?"

Your fear is a good enough answer for him. He moves back, gesturing to the door behind you. "Yeosang prepared your outfit in a different room since the others are lurking around yours right now. Get dressed, Yunho will be here promptly to explain how to act properly in front of the other faeries." He leaves you, dissipating right in front of your eyes. You can feel how your heart beats against your chest. You blink, hand reaching for the knob and turning it open. You close it behind you, back against the wood.

It's too much. All of this is just. too. much.

—

"What is your goal?"

"I am just trying to have a successful gathering. Is that too much to ask for, Mingi?" Hongjoong stares at the potions on the table, deep in thought. "She will be here for quite a while anyway. It's better to show them that we have everything in order rather than attempting to hide her."

"You told Seonghwa you did not care for her and wanted her gone. And now you're compromising Yunho's sanity because you want to get back at us, is that it?"

Hongjoong’s brow twitches at Mingi's words. "You know I would never put you in danger. Any of you."

"Then why are you now?"

Hongjoong finally looks away from his table, eyes flicking up to Mingi's. "You question me?"

He sighs, rubbing his face, "I just want to know your reasoning. You know well what he means to me."

"I am beginning to wonder," Hongjoong steps closer to Mingi. He lets his hand rest on his cheek, thumb rubbing the skin slowly. Mingi's eyelids flutter at his touch, leaning into it. "If any of you truly trust me. Yunho has been so misguided, removed from modern society. We all know how he tore that Seelie apart. It wouldn't have happened if he had the chance to leave, to experience things like us. We isolated him to the point of inner destruction. Him keeping by the human’s side is a test, yes. One of self control. I need to see how he will fair when he is beside someone he desires and yet cannot have. I have to test his temperament before I decide what to do next, Mingi. This is for him."

Mingi covers Hongjoong’s hand with his, "I trust you. I just have one more question."

"Speak it."

"What is your plan? With the human?"

Hongjoong bares a sliver of his teeth, black irises only deepening. "Everyone is enthralled with her. It's my chance to have my own fun."

—

You stare in the mirror at yourself.

Right as you pulled the slacks over your finger, it adjusted itself to your body. The Unseelie you've met have only worn sheer clothing around you and this is no different. It would make you uncomfortable if you didn't see how it clearly hides sensitive parts of your body, leaving it to the imagination. Still, it is unlike you. You're used to something different. Your pile of clothes next to the bathroom door is all the more alluring as you gaze at yourself. Heavy bags beneath your eyes from lack of sleep, hands that are endlessly shaky. You look tired.

Exhausted.

A light knock on your door pulls you away from those pesky thoughts that were soon to move to your Soobin. You clear your throat, giving yourself a look once more before rushing to the door after a second knock.

You open it to Yunho. He looks cleaned up, hair neatly tossed, a small curl resting on his forehead. He wears an outfit very similar to yours but much more sheer and revealing, your face glued on his. His flicks over yours briefly. You think you see a light blush coating his cheeks.

"Faerie clothing suits you," he says softly. "I will respect your wishes and not say anything more."

You let out a breath, "You think? I feel like it looks silly."

True shock coats his face, "No. You look fine. You," He struggles with his wording and you can only smile at him. He sighs, rubbing his cheeks. "You are … breathtaking."

“You’re flattering me,” you look away from him, quickly coming up with something else to pull him away from those thoughts. “When is the party?”

“It started an hour or so ago,” Yunho says simply, taking in your shocked expression. “They are all awaiting your arrival, y/n. It should be quite fun.”

If your heart could sink any further, it would. “Waiting? I’m not a special guest, I just found out about this tonight. I –” You barely ate breakfast, but it feels as if your insides are about to come out. It only makes sense that Hongjoong would catch you off guard like this. It makes complete sense, but why would he? Does he expect you to fail this test, or whatever it is?

“You’re letting your thoughts run from you,” Yunho says. “Don’t leave yourself behind.”

“I don’t want to do this,” you admit. “At all.”

“Neither do I,” he sighs simply, glancing behind him. “But it’s out of my control. This Gathering of ours has been planned for months on end. Hongjoong loves masquerade balls to discuss important matters with other Unseelie and Faeries. In fact, pardon me – ” Yunho steps inside the room, closing the door behind him. “Wouldn’t want unsavory ears to listen to my words.”

You notice the masks in his hands now, “Masquerade?”

“Yes, a lot of faeries are shy without it, believe it or not,” he glances between your eyes. “Do you mind if I place yours?”

You shake your head, and he smiles. He takes his time, making sure it fits comfortably over your eyes before tying it in the back. “Too tight?” he asks softly. His lips barely hover over your ears as he asks. With a quick swallow, you shake your head. “Perfect.” He ties it with ease, moving back. Somehow between that time he’s put his over his eyes, looking over you once.

“Unrecognizable?” You tease.

“I’d recognize you in any room. As Mingi told you, I'll explain briefly what will happen. Since you are the only human that will be there, eyes will follow you. I won't be leaving your side all night in the event one of them tries something unsavory. And though I will be watching, please don't hesitate to tell me if you feel that something is wrong."

"Is this dangerous, me being around them?"

"Our spark isn't dangerous, but many others are. We all use humans in many ways, y/n. We as a species aren't the kindest to yours."

You're glad he's explaining it all to you. But it doesn't lessen your fear at all. "You won't leave me alone?"

"I won't. Be yourself, y/n. It'll go well. Shall we go?” he holds out his arm. You slip yours beneath his with ease, fingers lightly touching his sleeve. His outfit isn’t transparent like the rest you’ve seen, a solid satin blue. Still it leaves nothing to the imagination, securely fit to his body. Your nerves catch up to you as you walk through the hallways to the opposite side of the house you haven’t been to yet. All doors are ajar, many attendees you have yet to set your eyes on. Most shift their gaze to watch Yunho escort you to the main hall. All of this is too much too soon, your nails sinking into his arm without you noticing. Running is not an option. No matter how much you want it to be.

No matter how close he stands to you, how much they speak to you, you are alone.

“Hey,” Yunho stops walking. You look up at him. “You’re holding on a bit tight there, y/n.”

You look at your grip, noticing that it’s tight enough to break skin. Just as you begin to pull back he covers your hand with his free one, shaking his head. “Hold on to me if you need to. It doesn’t hurt.”

“I’m sorry–”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all. Hold on to me, y/n. I’m here.” You feel the stares, feel them glued to your back as you look up at him. “Hear me?”

“…Yes,” you whisper. You close your eyes for a moment. “Okay. We can go.”

He squeezes your hand before letting go, moving forward. The gazes are still burning into him and yourself, but you pretend not to notice. Ignore how much it bothers you. How silly it is – trusting an Unseelie, a man you barely know. How much you’re relying on his arm to steady yourself, his words to keep you calm. How with just a few months, you’ve let someone else other than Soobin help you.

You enter the grandeur hall.

It’s massive; chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, jewels and cold everywhere you look. Tables filled with faeries speaking amongst one another, laughter throughout the area. Yunho pulls you forward through the crowds. He seems to command a presence here – faeries without prompt giving him a pathway. They continue to talk but you hear whispers in languages you cannot understand. The word human sticks out. Still he pulls you along to the front of the room. There a banquet table sits, nine seats lined side by side. Hongjoong sits in the middle of the table, literally. He rests himself on top of the table, legs cross as he speaks to an unfamiliar faerie in front of him. You barely get a chance to look at the rest sitting there, one at the far end startling you. He stares at you with such disgust, a scowl seemingly permanently carved into his face.

“You’ve made it,” Hongjoong says, tilting his head around the faerie to look at you. “And how lovely you are.”

“I would say the same, but it will only boost your ego.”

The faerie in front of him widens their eyes. Hongjoong smile slips, waving them away. They leave without a second thought. He stands, brown eyes dissipating within an instant. The black stares at you as he moves closer. You shift your body towards Yunho, his head slightly shifting to the movement.

“You will hold your tongue in front of me,” Hongjoong says. “Do you understand me, human?”

“Yes.” You say, looking away. Not missing a beat, his smile slides back.

“Perfect, I hope you enjoy the rest of the party. It will be more than entertaining. I must leave now to tend to the other guests. Please let the others introduce themselves to you – we all will be seeing a lot of you for quite a while.” He bows to Yunho. Yunho bows, stepping to the side to let Hongjoong mingle.

“You could draw blood from that fearsome gaze of yours,” Yunho whispers, nudging your shoulder. “Even I am petrified.”

“I, sorry,” you say again, sucking in a breath. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing for your expressions y/n. Hongjoong was just…” he thinks for a moment. “You know of his status, no?”

“He is the leader of your spark.”

“Yes, but he is not only the leader of the eight of us. He is the head of Unseelie, y/n. There is not one faerie within this room who would defy him. So those words in front of another faerie, challenging his status at an event,” he quirks his brow.

Oh how you wish you could crawl out of your skin. You turn back, watching as all the masked party guests bow as he passes, his laughter echoing around the room. Charisma oozes from him, yes, but so does pure unrivaled power. A passerby gives him a glass and he takes it within a breath. You look at Yunho.

“He’s going to kill me.”

Yunho snickers, shaking his head, “He will entertain himself with the others. Worry not.”

“Solaris!” An irritating familiar voice echoes through the hall. Without a second to beat he throws his body into yours, wrapping his arms around you. His giggles echo around you, squeezing quite tight before letting go. He pulls back, the same grin still on his face. Wooyoung steps back for a moment, eyes flicking over your attire. “As always you are a beautiful sunset.”

“You cannot calm yourself even at a party?” Yunho frowns. He feels the emptiness of your arm since you’ve let go to steady yourself from Wooyoung’s attack. The absence of your warmth is not comforting. Only annoying him further. You seem not to notice at all though. Between your exasperation at him slamming himself into you, Yunho can see the tension in your shoulders ease. He just wishes that he were the one to do it, not him.

“My pretty solaris is shining, Yunho,” Wooyoung sticks his tongue out at him. “I cannot believe that Hongjoong made him your bodyguard when I am here!” He sighs, sitting in the spot Hongjoong once was. His mask rests on the top of his head. He holds out a drink for you and you take it, eyeing it.

“Is it alcohol?”

“Faeries do not really enjoy it since we don’t get intoxicated like humans. And it tastes disgusting,” Wooyoung murmurs. “This is a tonic of concentrated fruits. Sweet, but does nothing to humans.” He encourages you.

You trust his words only because you know he cannot lie, taking a sip. It’s sweet, but not off-putting. “Tasty,” you point out. Yunho takes the other resting on the table, sitting next to Wooyoung. He widens his eyes, digging in his pocket.

Yunho smiles at you, “I almost forgot. Hand.”

"Hand?" You shoot him a quizzical look. He holds out his to you, waiting. You're sure he'd wait forever until you place yours upon his so you do so, his large hand covers yours entirely. At first, you feel a soothing feeling across your skin. The warmth rises in temperature, just enough to the point where it's bearable, but sweaty. He stares at your enclosed hands. With a small whistle, they begin to illuminate in the dark, swirling around your skin before disappearing into the air. His eyes flick to yours, a sunset staring back at you.

"Pretty, no?" He grins, squeezing your hand once. "It took me a bit since I'm not an expert at majik like the others. Yeosang helped me with the spell, and San helped me cast."

Their names mean close to nothing to you now. You're very sure they will in the future, though. Close future, from the gazes around you.

"What's it for?"

His grin widens, then. "To impress a pretty human. And it will help me keep an eye on you if you ever leave my sight tonight. I will take it away once this gathering ends."

You tuck it in your front pocket.

“You’ve made it,” Wooyoung says, looking behind you. You don’t exactly need to guess who it is, the quiet movement enough for you to pinpoint. His conversation, well, threat, from earlier is enough for you not to acknowledge him at all. Instead, you move a bit closer to Yunho’s side. “You said you hate parties.”

“I do,” his deep voice murmurs. You take a quick glance at Mingi. He avoids your gaze entirely, hands tucked in his pockets. “But Hongjoong insisted. No matter how much I tell him my presence here will only put the others on edge.”

You look behind him. Still the eyes are on yours, but you see others observing Mingi. Many look away quickly. How much fear does the Unseelie resonate?

“They would be on edge anyway since they are in our residence,” Yunho shrugs. “y/n’s presence along with ours brings more questions than answers. None are brave enough to speak about it though. Secures our status.”

You speak, “Even if they asked, I have nothing to say.”

Yunho smiles, “I can pick one thing you’d be able to shock them with.”

Ah, right. Resistant to faeries. Your eyes flick over to one Unseelie who sits at the table. He’s beautiful, to say the least. Black hair in wisps, resting at the bottom of his neck, silver jewelry wrapped around strands. A peak of what looks like a birthmark on the side of one of his eyes, stretching to his temple. His brown eyes are not looking at yours at all, focused on your lower face. As you stare, it looks like he’s watching your lips. You look away.

His head rests on his hands as he watches you speak to Wooyoung. Your words are quick, annoyance drawn on your face when he twists your words, often vulgar. He only laughs at the expression, continuing his rant. Yeosang himself and the others are used to his antics, his quick words and joking tone. He quite honestly thought you'd be deterred by it, but you match his wit in an instant, sometimes causing Wooyoung to falter, skip words. Yeosang can't help but grin, eyes steady on yours. You look to the side, meeting his interested gaze.

"Yeosang doesn't speak much," Wooyoung starts. "Especially when I'm talking."

"Maybe because you can never stop," Yunho hums from behind him.

"Nice to meet you, Yeosang," you hold out your hand. Yeosang's brows furrow at the gesture. Humans are often disgusted with faeries, especially one of the Unseelies. You extend out your hand with such ease, well, it makes him confused. The time must have passed long enough for it to be uncomfortable, your hand sliding back away.

He reaches out before you place it back on your side, his fingers gripping yours softly in a quick shake.

Your skin is quite soft, he thinks.

“You are not afraid of me,” he states, his hand dropping from yours. “Why?”

“Should I be?” you question. It lingers in the air, eyes briefly moving to Yunho’s for assistance. He merely shrugs, your gaze moving back to Yeosang’s. “I’m not immediately afraid of an Unseelie. Not anymore.”

“That’s delightful! It’s all me, by the way,” Wooyoung grins, interrupting. Mingi meets his eyes for a moment, gesturing to the side. He sighs, hopping off the table. “I would love to mingle more, but Hongjoong needs me. I’ll see you all soon enough. Yeosang, he needs you as well.”

“Just a moment,” Yeosang waves him off. He pats his pocket, putting out a small map. “Can you read this?” he holds it out to you. He seems insistent on it, gaze sharp. “Humans are able to, not Unseelies.”

“Oh…?” You take it from him. You can read it easily, some words more advanced than you’re used to, but it’s all legible.

“Now is not the time, Yeosang,” Mingi murmurs, rubbing his eyes beneath the mask. “Not at a party.”

“It is just for a moment. If she knows, then she’ll be able to assist me. So, human?” Yeosang asks, turning back to you. “Can you understand the writing?”

–

A threat.

That's his first thought as he stares at you across from the room. The reason why the others are on edge, wary. A human with a strange allure. He would have eradicated you immediately if it weren't for their affinity towards you. His frown only seems to deepen when he sees Yeosang's lip quirk at something you've said. His eyes widened at the look, silent shock. His friend isn't one to attempt to grow closer to anyone. In fact, he's even more surprised that Yeosang is here in the first place. The Unseelie hides in his room often, rarely interacting unless necessary. The smile on his lips confuses him.

His fingers dig into his forearms. Despite how exhausting it is to be around you, he can't help it. The looks you send the others, the shaking of your hands as you point to the map. The smile that is barely there.

Why is he aching to touch you?

“Sulking in the corner is not a good look,” Jongho appears next to him, arms crossed. “You know that she can see you. You’re not so far away to go unnoticed.”

“She’s infuriating,” San frowns, watching as Mingi pulls Yeosang away from the rest of them, into the direction of Hongjoong. “Why bring her around all of these faeries? Some are bound to realize that she is not like any other human. I don’t doubt that they might already know. What is the endgame, the solution? Why is he doing this?”

“Hongjoong has a strange way of thinking,” Jongho says, watching you with the others. “But he is wise above many. It took me a while to determine exactly why he would introduce a human to this world of ours. And I’ve finally figured it out.”

“Don’t keep it to yourself.”

“Not even a small guess?” Jongho frowns.

“Jongho…”

“Fine,” he sighs. “He wants to show them that our position will not be challenged nor should ever be. If we have a human captured that is not affected by any of us and still fears us, yet joins us on these events. They will see where we stand. They will start to question if we know of more, if she is a halfling. So many inquiries and yet all are too afraid to speak up. It will keep them subdued for now. Delay their anger for the incident from the other night. Distract them enough to keep it calm.”

"Is there any news on the Seelie?" San asks.

"Much. Yeosang and Wooyoung are on their way to take care of it. They will be gone for quite a bit until it's solved."

San watches Yeosang leave the room after Wooyoung. The Unseelie seems to sense his gaze, turning around to meet it. Neither of them say anything, but Jongho sees San's expression shift. Worry. Yeosang merely nods at the look, disappearing from view. It is what he has always done to calm him down. But San's worry just continues to pile on as it continuously has.

"We should have gone with them too," San murmurs, looking back at you. "A trio at least. If one of them were injured the other one wouldn't be able to leave."

"Hongjoong made the call. It will be fine."

"As fine as a human resistant to our charms waltzing around faeries that want to consume her, fine? Something will happen tonight."

Jongho grows serious at his words. "Have you seen it?"

"No. That's the issue Jongho. I can feel everyone else's in this room. But with her, there is nothing. Not even a hint. That only happens for me if the person is destined to die suddenly. If that doesn't worry you, I don't know what will. It makes me think of that movie, the one with the blood sucking faeries. How the main character couldn’t penetrate her mind because she had a shield."

Jongho deadpans, "You really need to stop consuming human media. It's making you lose your mind and credibility."

San sends him a toothy grin. "You're just upset you don't understand my references."

"Oh I do, a little too well unfortunately. There's only so much of it that you say that won't stick. I'm still upset you made me watch that movie. What was it, Dracula?"

San looks away, momentarily distracted. "Yes! We should watch it again."

"And this is why Hongjoong didn't tell you to go with them," he murmurs, easily maneuvering out of San’s shove. "In all seriousness, I am worried. You cannot witness the future because she is in it. I don't like the odds." Jongho looks to the side, eyes narrowing. "So much for the delay of anger, especially since some uninvited guests arrived."

—

"Stay close and don’t say a word," Yunho stands up from the table, shifting you behind him. Mingi turns around, relaxed expression tightening. You can’t quite see over their shoulders, most of the crowd hiding your view from what’s exactly going on. Mingi's hand slips to his side. You notice the handle of what you can only guess is a sword, his fingers wrapped around it as he stares forward. The crowd is hushed now, bated breaths. What exactly are they facing, and why is everyone on edge?

The familiar smooth voice of Hongjoong breaks the silence, “You show yourself here?”

“We were not invited, we presumed it was just a mistake.” The person responds slowly, deliberately. Yunho’s arm wraps around your shoulder, pressing you tightly to his side. “We heard that you have a human within this area.”

“Is that any of your business?” MIngi hisses. Your gaze shifts to the side, seeing the angry Unseelie that was standing in the corner appear next to Mingi. “You were not invited for a reason, Seelie.”

“Is that the way to speak to your brother?” The voice laughs. Hongjoong appears in front of you in a blink, standing next to Mingi. He does not acknowledge you behind him, but your eyes flick down. His hand waves slightly, as if gesturing for you to leave. Yunho stands still, a slight shake to his head. “You protect it from my sight?”

“Yeonjun, you know your kind is not allowed at these events, why appear? Everyone in this room is disgusted by you,” Hongjoong says simply, a small smile on his lips. “Uppity faeries who believe they are above us all. You stink up the place.”

The air feels tender, your heart beating quicker. No matter how much you try to control it it just hammers on and on. There is little doubt that the Seelie cannot hear you. The Unseelie around you seem to know it as well, all of their hands shifting to weapons that rest on their sides.

“Let me see the human.”

“No,” Hongjoong raises his brow. “You have no presence nor authority here.”

“Is it wise to hide it from me after you have butchered my people? Wooyoung was his name, yes? And Yunho is lucky that I am being so kind despite the massacre that he created.”

Yunho’s hand around you loosens slightly at his name being uttered.

“Seelie attacked the human unwarranted and without notifying us. They were in our territory. It was our right,” Mingi states simply. “He did what needed to be done.”

“Did he? We visited the location shortly after, Mingi. It was utterly drenched and soiled.”

“Enough,” Hongjoong holds up his hand, “What is it that you desire? To see the human? Is that all?”

“That is all,” the Seelie states.

“Fine. Mingi, move. Yunho, let her go.”

Questions rise in Yunho’s eyes. With great hesitance, he lets his hand drop from your arm. Hongjoong slides his hand into yours, stepping forward. Your momentary shock at him touching you all vanishes when you meet the eyes of the Seelie in front of you. You expected the grotesque figure like before, but he is anything but. Matching the height of Mingi, he stands. His hair neon green, slicked back. Small strands brush his cheek as he looks down at you, white eyes alarming. Despite that, he is beautiful. Ethereally so. He holds your gaze, a smirk forming.

“You are the human they have started a war for?”

“It has not come to that, Yeonjun,” Mingi starts, hushed immediately by Hongjoong.

“Oh but it has, Mingi. Unless you provide me with a small favor.”

“No,” Yunho says between his teeth, standing by your side. “I will not allow you to take her away.”

“Why? What is so special about the human? Why are you risking your people for its existence? Does it have something I cannot see with my eyes? Or does it have to deal with her being resistant to our charms?”

Hongjoong shrugs, “Whatever do you mean?”

Yeonjun’s smile drops. “I have coerced her to let go of your hand several times but she looks at me as if I’m a ghost.”

“How unfortunate that not every being will drop to their knees for you. You must truly be disappointed.”

Yeonjun merely rolls his eyes, hands tucked in his suit jacket pockets. He glazes over the crowd, stepping forward. The crowd backs up from his movement until they can no longer. He stands in front of a small child, bending down to stare at them. “I can read between the lines, Unseelie leader. I can see how you avoid my inquiries. So if you will not allow me to take the human, perhaps I will take one of these other things for my use.” Just as he is about to touch the child, you move forward slightly. Hongjoong’s grip on your hand tightens tenfold, a bruise imminent.

“Let the child go,” you say.

Yeonjun turns around, grin widening. “Oh, she speaks. It is all too bad, though, you did not speak up quickly enough.” He raises his hand. All of your gazes turn. An adult faerie rises in the air. Before any of the Unseelie next to you can move, Yeonjun snaps his fingers. You look away from the sight, a cry falling from your lips at the mere sound. Flesh splatters across the walls and guests, their cries much louder than yours.

“Yunho, go!” Hongjoong says above the shouts of the crowd. “Take her out of here,” he lets go of your hand, throwing your body into the trembling Yunho’s. You look at him, eyes glossed over. His eyes flick up to yours, shaking his head.

“I can’t.”

You barely get the chance to convince him to go, Yunho grabbed by a Seelie in the crowd. This one as horrid as the others you’ve witnessed. You look around for an escape, the ajar door too far away for you to go. So instead, you turn to the side, shoes sliding against the hardwood as you navigate around everyone running every which way. The sound of bodies exploding fills your ears, tears running down your cheeks. It is all too much to take in now, but your body does. It barely holds itself together as you push through the people. Someone grabs the back of your shirt, dragging you to the floor. Your head slams against it, eyes losing focus.

“This is your fault,” The Seelie spits, stepping harshly on your hand. It grabs your face, pulling you up from the floor. “My people have died for such a silly little human. You have started a war, don’t you know this?” You look down, leaves slowly rising from the floor. The moist leaves begin to rise, wrapping around your wrists.

“I didn’t.”

It drops you to the floor, turning around. It’s too late, another Unseelie appearing. He grips its neck, slamming it against the wall. "Beg."

His grip on its neck is tight as he holds it up against the wall, other hand stationary on his side. His eyes narrow as they stare into the Seelie's. You can only stare, hands still entangled in the tightened seaweed. His lip curls, a glint in his eyes. The Seelie makes no attempt to utter a sound. He hums, fingers digging into its neck.

"Look away, y/n," his voice is softer as he acknowledges you, eyes flicking to the side. "Unless you want to see its death." A crack echoes in the air just as you close your eyes. The body makes a loud thump, hitting the concrete. He steps to you, pulling the leaves off your wrists with ease. He wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the ground. You hiss at your wound pressing into him slightly.

"You can open your eyes now," he says. "Sorry about that. Didn't expect any of them to be hanging around you when there’s a lot more chaos to be dealt with. Thought we killed them all off, to be honest," he glances behind him.

His gaze moves to yours. Blood covers your cheeks, scrapes and scabs already forming. His expression hardens, until you look into his eyes. He should be angry right now. furious that your presence has led to this. But perhaps Mingi was right.

There's just something so strange about you.

You flinch when he tries to touch you. He pulls his hands back promptly, holding them up in defense. “Hey hey, I’m not a Seelie. You saw me earlier, didn’t you? I was talking to San, the guy that was shooting daggers across the room. I’m with Hongjoong, y/n. My name is Jongho.”

His name sounds vaguely familiar. You nod, and he helps you up. The screams have died down now. You keep your gaze on the floor, the smell already rising. You wouldn’t have guessed how familiar that scent of death would be. Jongho pulls you along, navigating you around the bodies and blood, and out the door.

“Yunho…?” You murmur, thinking back to how he was grabbed by a Seelie. “Is he okay?”

“Fine. Poor guy who grabbed him though, he’s shredded to Hell,” Jongho snickers, turning down a hallway. “Seonghwa isn’t in the lab, but one of us will be around soon. Stay there for a bit while we deal with this, okay?” Jongho stops in front of the door. It’s already open. You still haven’t looked up from the floor, too overwhelmed with what you’ve just witnessed. “Hey y/n, you okay there?”

“This is all my fault, isn’t it?”

Jongho does not answer. He pats your shoulder once, "We will solve this. Stay quiet." He closes the door, leaving you alone.

“Is Yunho alright?” Jongho enters the room, glancing to the side. His nose wrinkles at the devastation surrounding the area. Tables flipped over, masks scattered about. Dead faeries in pieces. No one answers him. Hongjoong stands in the middle of the room, staring down at a body. Jongho begins to look around and spots Yunho in the corner. He’s still, gazing down at his trembling blood drenched hands. Mingi is near him, crouched in front of him as he whispers. Jongho isn’t particularly interested in hearing anything he has to say, moving closer to his leader.

“We looked weak in front of them all,” Hongjoong says. “Pathetic.”

“It was the best choice at the time-”

“Was it?” He looks at him, brows furrowed. “Was it a good choice to allow a massacre to happen because they wanted a human? Our people saw me defend it over everyone else. They will remember this day.”

“They know the stakes well enough. They understand that you had a reason for it. Anyone with eyes could see that she is different. That’s why Yeonjun himself wanted her so badly-”

“You should have given her up,” San grunts, lifting a table back into its place. “Now we have to deal with Seelies following us wherever we go. It will be a hindrance.”

“I already have Yeosang and Wooyoung dealing with that,” Hongjoong waves him off. “But I have lost favor. It will take a while to gain it back.”

“We are all faeries, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa’s hand hovers over a body. It slowly dissipates, his gaze shifting up to look at his leader. “We took the risk in keeping her because we know of the influence she has. Despite what I have been saying, I do think it is best to keep her around. At least until we find the cause of her resistance. Once we do, that information would be more valuable than anything that has happened tonight.”

Jongho frowns. “Life is less valuable?”

Seonghwa shrugs simply, “They will be remade. It is nothing.”

“You’re beginning to sound like the Seelie,” Jongho murmurs, his spark’s gazes shifting to him. “We are to be better.”

“We are Unseelie, Jongho. We are nothing better. But speaking of the human,” Seonghwa stands, wiping his hands on his pants. “Where is she?”

“In your lab.”

Seonghwa’s eyes seem to widen comically, pushing past Jongho.

"What's wrong?"

Mingi looks at Jongho from his spot, “None of us looked around to see if it was clear, Jongho. You may have just killed the human. All of this bloodshed for nothing.”

Several of the others follow behind Seonghwa, Jongho running after them. He arrives at the lab just as Seonghwa slams open his door. The sight startling to behold. Seelie blood coats the walls, tables destroyed and medical supplies scattered about. But it is almost the least surprising thing in the room.

In the middle of the carnage sits you, fingers wrapped around the handle of a dagger Seonghwa stored on the wall for decoration. Wounds cover your body, leg twisted at an odd angle. But your eyes are away from them. Glued to the pieces of Seelie below you.

“y/n?” Jongho whispers.

You hand trembles at the sound of his voice, dagger dropping from between your fingers. You look up, passed Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Directly at him.

“I didn’t mean to.”

#fic: wonderwall #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez fic #ateez series #ateez yandere

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assmaster-8000 · 1 year ago

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no because what if gojo satoru had found another special grade child. a child whom the jujutsu higher-ups wanted satoru to mentor because they'd be a useful trump card to the jujutsu society so naturally they'd want this child's talent to be honed till they potentially surpass satoru and be used. but satoru had seen too much of what this world had done to the person he'd love the most and he wouldn't ever be the one to subject another person to it like a tool. like a weapon. like a machine. so of course he takes them under his wing and gives them the guidance he never had, suguru never had. a 20 year old prodigy fresh with wounds of loss and grief taking in a child with greatness sitting on their head like a heavy crown cutting into their skin underneath his cape of power and blood stains. satoru is an enigma and even he himself doesn't know if it's because he wants to mold more strong jujutsu sorcerers who will change this world (because what greater irony than the child you wanted to utilize like a cold knife being the one to bring reform right to your door?), or if he wants to give them everything everyone else didn't have (please, he can't have someone follow in suguru's footsteps.), or if being number 1 was too tiring for him (but he doesn't know if it's selfish bringing them up to this blinding spotlight.)

years pass and he vehemently denies the higher ups control over his protégé, his student, his brat. he'll give them control and the means to break out of the shackles of this damned hierarchy. and even if satoru cannot outwardly say it, they're his child. as though he was there at their birth and has been ever since. his child and his best friend and he's their father and their best friend. it's either he sees too much of himself in them or too much of suguru because they're rising to the top fast and he's proud of them and so full of dangerous hope their wings aren't made of wax. (but he'll be there to catch them if they'll ever fall, of course!) they're so strong now. if he was blessed by the heavens and the earth then perhaps they were born of it because look at them go! giving the great gojo satoru a run for his money! not everyone can do that, you know? they're such a great student and person! isn't he such a great mentor?!

so he decides to have faith in them. bring them along with him to shibuya to deal with those reports of special grade curses he was being told about. this is how your teacher deals with these curses! better watch closely because you'll probably have to do it too! he has them positioned on the sidelines to ensure the civilians aren't hurt and if anything, to aid him because they're gonna be the strongest some day too so they can't be lazing a round on their ass all the time.

and they're doing so well until kenjaku comes along. satoru's breath stops and his heart rattles against the prison bars of his ribcage but it isn't the stupor of seeing his lost love that doomed him to the box. his special grade student lurches to -- what, attack kenjaku? pull satoru away? run? it didn't matter what. it was all a blur -- wards him and his body moves on an instinct that's even stronger that the compass needle pointing to suguru's body.

no, no.. that isn't suguru. it's his body and that's not him. somethings not right. but his student is right infront of him and that's them and he can't let anything bad happen to them now. flexing infront of his student can be saved for another day. but it's this mistake that ends up setting him right into kenjaku's trap and the box. the moment his gaze snaps to them and his body is torn between suguru infront of him and them kenjaku sees an opportunity and snaps it up like it's golden.

satoru doesn't even get the mere moment of chained freedom before he's fully trapped in the box. with the special grade student there, kenjaku needs to make it quick. make it count. he does. satoru is pulled into the box and satoru can't even say anything to his student. and he worries in his infinitesimal prison. satoru never usually worries unless if it's his leftovers have gone bad in the fridge.

they'll be alright.

they'll be alright, won't they?

they're strong.

they're capable.

they're smart.

he's raised them well they'll be okay they've got friends.

they'll do the right thing.

...

and when satoru finally exits the box he's sees faces changed. they tell him a lot about what they've been through, about what has changed since he's been gone, what changed about them.

he sees yuuji has been weathered with pain and a unique sense of hope.

he sees megumi has been puppeted with the strings of despair by sukuna.

he sees maki has faced the fiery trials and tribulations of this cruel world and bears it like her trophy.

he sees...

he sees nothing of his student. his special student. where are they? injured? somewhere off in the game? will they be back soon? time's a-running out, you know.

he sees the looks his students exchange and his heart drops. he knows. he knows. he knows what must've happened.

they're dead, aren't they?

and he's brought back to the time he carried riko's dead body in his arms and he was met with the disappearing suguru in the crowd and suguru slumped against the wall.

it's happened again.

they tell him they were a hero. that in satoru's absence, they did the heavy lifting and protected shibuya from the full-on destruction it would've suffered if not for them. that if not for them, the jujutsu world would've been left in even deeper disrepair. they saved some of their fellow sorcerers from certain death and suffering! they were the one to grapple with sukuna when he let all havoc ravage the city.

they paid with their life.

all because they were too worried about getting these normal civilians back home safe. about keeping their friends and mentors safe. and satoru wonders if there was someone else worrying about keeping them safe.

... atleast he didn't have to worry about them following in suguru's footsteps and the hatred of regular civilians. they were good of heart and soul. they were strong.

they did the right thing.

and satoru has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that the person he's raised for, what, 10 years? is dead. gone. deceased. that's just preposterous! he was there when they were a snobby little kid and he was there when they were going through that awkward phase and he was there when they were learning more and more as a teenager and where are they now?

sukuna asks him that. "where's that miniature personification of yours? hah, don't tell me they died the last i saw them. have the special grades of this era started to slack off?"

satoru has all the more reason to kill sukuna now. he has to show his students who are watching that he can do it.

even if they will no longer watch him do anything.

#sorry this is really niche and short but like IMAGINE #im sick and tired of teacher satoru and student reader smuts #found family.#teacher satoru who sees so much in this child this prodigy this person who was born to walk the painful path he tred #and he knows he has to give them a better life and a deeper hope #the parentification of gojo satoru #and his deep despair he hides away and his emotional constipation and his jovial front and #he's far from the best parent but god. he's got to try. he needs to try.#the imperfect character of satoru and the grueling nature of parenthood is perfect #why isn't there more familial stories of him and reader #or an oc who has him as a father figure #FOOD FOR THOUGHT. WHY DONT MORE PEOPLE MAKE OCS LIKE THIS #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk spoilers #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk oc #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x reader platonic #gojo x reader familial #teacher!gojo x student!reader #idk id love to see an oc with a premise like this. they don't have to die they just have to be fucked up beyond repair #that it's almost like a death of their self to satoru. his golden student. his beloved.#jjk oc x character #jujutsu kaisen #oc ideas #sorry if this is ooc im chronically insane #im so sorry this is so badly written in my defense it was 5 am and i could not sleep unless i exterminated this thought

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twilightkitkat · 6 days ago

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I'm so sorry if i'm annoying you. But like do you think in the movies he had some prepping before the bonding? We see him getting drawn on with sharpie by Dr. Hines and a shot of him getting injected with contrast agent for the X-rays. But i like to think they also coated his teeth in a clear liquid to strengthen them so he wouldn't break them biting down on his mouth guard during the adamantium bonding. That's why he avoids dentists now. Also he probably was injected with prepping fluid as these pictures show. And now he is afraid of needles and when Wade wants to take him to the doctor for check up routine he is nervous like a dog going to the vet. Thoughts on this?

You aren't annoying me at all, I really enjoy answering your questions because I love talking about science. If I don't get to it immediately, it's just because I'm thinking of an answer or I need to find time where I can go through and respond to my asks.

I actually used this same image as a basis for my knowledge about Logan's procedure. He definitely had prepping before the bonding. We see clearly how adamantium slices straight through regular bone, drills would cause his bones to break under pressure at the wrong angle.

I also think that they probably messed with his mouth some, whether it was a protecting or superpowered numbing gel. Logan has sharper teeth than the average person and a higher bone density, so they also would want to make sure they didn't break through his mouth guard.

Logan would have trauma around all doctors, honestly. It doesn't matter if it's a dentist or surgeon or just a check-up, he's immediately on guard.

Every part of him was violated in that procedure. His trust, his mind, his body, and his memories. He can still feel the uncomfortable itch as fluid was injected into him and the searing pain when the adamantium was bonded to his bones.

Being in any kind of medical situation reminds him of that pain and headspace and the panic he felt. He was screaming and thrashing and nobody fucking helped him. They tried to turn him into a weapon against his will. His body and mind will never recover from that.

I think that the best Wade is gonna get is an agreement for an at-home family doctor checkup. The thought of going into a doctor's office makes Logan anxious as hell, and he'd rather do it on his own terms where he feels more comfortable and in control. And Wade has to be there the entire time or he won't do it. Wade would lightly tease him if he wasn't touched by the thought that Logan trusted him enough to want him there for something tied to his trauma.

#kitkat #poolverine #deadclaws #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool movie #wade x logan #wade/logan

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captain039 · 5 months ago

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PART 2 Predator grounds (Cooper Howard)

Alpha!Cooper Howard (pre-war)x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB dynamics, vault tech things, forced heats/ruts, eventual smut, age gap, angst? Experiments, needles, drugs, talks of pregnancy, first times, anxiety attacks, anxiety, forced claiming

Previous part <-

Has it even been a day down here? You remember falling in and out of sleep on the edge of the bed, almost falling off at one point. You know the lights went dim twice so far and the music stopped when it did. You wish you could put those damn speakers up the vaults overseers ass if he was even around. Hell the only person you saw was the man bringing the food everyday. His overly cheery voice making you want to reach through the food slot and choke him. You think you’ve used too much water considering you’ve had five showers now, well you weren’t really washing yourself more like sitting on the floor in despair trying to relieve yourself quietly so the alpha outside didn’t hear. He hasn’t said a word, he’s been quietly brooding in the corner for the last few days. You’re worried about him, he always looks tense, you swear he never sleeps and he’s always twitching at every sound he hears. You feel sorry for him, feel sorry that he isn’t with the one person he married even if they did seperate he deserves that familiarity. He wouldn’t be in this harsh rut too, someone to take the ease off. God you’ve imagined too many times about how he could take you in every single inch of this vault room. He’s moved the couch to the corner, pushed the TV out of the way, he moved it while you were in the shower the second time.

You haven’t drawn the curtains back so you can’t see out into the hall way, hell you don’t want to, that couple across from you probably still going at it. You sit on the floor on pillows and a towel reading a crappy book they supplied on the book shelf. You haven’t explored all the shelves and cupboard, hell you probably wouldn’t mind watching a movie but it’s on his side of the room. You’ve never seen Mr Howard like this, so tense and caught up in his head, he’s usually a care free, kind, charcmismic man. Guess being frozen for 200 years will do that to a man. You glance at him hesitantly and gulp a little.

“Mr Howard?” You finally speak and he hums looking to you. His stare makes you falter and you nervously glance at the wall behind him before focusing back on his eyes.

“Are you- are you doing ok? Do you want a book? I think the Video tapes are on the bottom shelf too” you gesture to the light brown shelf filled with books and tape holders.

“I’m ok, sweetheart” he says his lips twitching slightly and you just nod a little saddened. You say against the wall head leaning on the mattress cursing the ache in your lower stomach.

“Room 236” a woman’s voice calls over and you frown.

“You’re not completing your functions!” She says cheerily and you raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Go fuck yourself and do it yourself asshole” Cooper yells and you flinch a bit at the tone but smile to yourself.

“If this continues we will seperate you to more appropriate partners! We want to save the America and you can help!” Coopers statement goes ignored and her words make your whole body tense and into a panic. You can’t go to someone else, you can’t be with someone else you’ve never done this, what the hell? They can’t just move you to get impregnated. You don’t want kids, the thought of a baby terrifies you.

“Sweetie look at me” you can hear Coopers voice briefly but your heart is pounding in your ears. He yells your name and you flinch and look at him.

“You’re alright, they’re not gonna take you from this room ok, I promise” he says so sincerely but he can’t control them, can’t control if they do take you, they’re in control here.

The lights dim signalling night time and you’re curled up hiding under the covers like it’d save you. The speakers words scare you to death, this whole situation seems to be dawning on you. Tears roll down your face silently and you suck in a small breath. You don’t hear the footsteps till you feel the bed dip and your heart rate rockets into panic.

“It’s me” Cooper mutters and you let out the breath in a shudder that you were holding.

“I keep my promises you know this” he speaks softly in the darkness and you nod your head despite him not being able to see.

“I know” you croak cursing yourself silently. He always did, he was that kind of man.

“Get some sleep” he mutters after some silence and walks back to his side of the room.

Morning comes, the lights turning on brightly making you wince. You didn’t sleep well at all last night, tossing and turning, fleeting nightmares. Alarms blare and you’re suddenly wide awake and standing up by the bed on wobbly feet. Your door is opening, Cooper is up quickly as well. You see two men in hazard suits and two people behind them with guns. You tense realising they were here to take you away. You see a scared woman being held behind the four people, she’s cuffed and held by two others in hazard suits.

“You aren’t fulfilling your duties in room 236, we are to remove the omega and replace her” his words sound automated and suddenly you’re wrapped up in strong arms.

“You won’t take her” Coopers voice is low, his breathing is coming out almost in a harsh snarl, he’s got one arm across your upper chest the other over your stomach.

“Sir, let the omega go” the people in the hazard suits are unbothered by the smells and tone he’s using.

“You. Won’t. Take. Her” he breathes harshly between each word and you swear he’s a man possessed.

“I’m so sorry” he whispers softly in your ear and suddenly there’s like an electric shock of pleasure going through your body as blunt teeth clamp on your shoulder. You let out a strangled noise as a mating bond clicks into place, you’re flooded by him and feelings making you stagger but not fall in his embrace.

“You won’t take my mate away” he challenges after he stops biting and you’re in a daze. They halt there advances, a mate bond is strong, he won’t touch another omega now. They step back hands up and the door slides shut. You breathe deeply, having held your breath majority of that time as you finally process everything that happened. You place a hand on your neck feeling where he bit and stutter. You hear him apologising feel him move in front of you but you’re in overload right now. You don’t look at him, you turn, grab a chair and head to the bathroom. You force the chair against the door and collapse to the floor in a heap. What just happened?

Next part ->

NOTES:

To continue Wasteland heat I gotta watch the episodes again I think I got like episode five? While writing and then had this idea xD but I’ll continue Wasteland heat after xD

#x reader #aob #fallout tv series #cooper howard x reader #cooper Howard #pre war cooper howard #vault

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her-satanic-wiles · 4 months ago

Text

Dawn Chorus - IV

Dracopia x Fallen Angel!Reader

When you question the Almighty for a third time, you find yourself on the run and escaping a horde of wrathful angels ready to punish you for your insolence. Whose garden should you fall into than Cardinal Copia’s? And he has more nefarious plans for you.

Masterlist ⛧ Commissioned by anonymous ⛧ Series Masterlist

Words: 6.1k.

Reading Time: 25min.

Warnings: blood extraction, body control, corruption kink,finger sucking, forced sexual activity,gaslighting,irrelevant character death,mentions of death by sun exposure, non-consensual sexual activity,objectification, religious disillusionment, religious trauma, sexual harassment, taking advantage of innocence, use of needles,use of the word “bitch” unkindly

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @dopey-fandom-girl @ravensbars @copiaspet622 @onlyhereforghost @ultrahalloweengirl @ad-astra-per-aspera-1976 @whitepawfics @dolceterzo

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this fic is quite dark, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my decision. Thank you.

“I feel as though thou hast drained all my blood and brought me to the brink of death.” You tried to stand but your body was too weak. “For how long hath I been in slumber?”

“Five days,” the Cardinal looked back to his book, “your recovery time is getting longer. We’re going to have to start rationing if this keeps up. Or get another angel. Say, do you think we could use you as bait?”

“I pray thee choke and perish upon my blood.”

The Cardinal laughed. “If that happens,” the door to his bedroom knocked, then opened, “you’ll be stuck in that cage forever - ah! Brother López. Come in, please!”

The Brother opened the door wider and stepped inside, looking polite as he watched the Cardinal stand to greet him.

“Angel,” the Cardinal addressed you, “this is my new cleaner, Brother Santiago López.”

You couldn’t help the wave of disappointment and fear take over you. But as you spoke, you tried to keep your voice level and nonchalant, “Oh. What befell thy previous caretaker?”

“I found out he was trying to help a certain prisoner escape, and so he needed to be punished.”

“If thou has slain him, I swear by the Almighty I shall smite thee!” Your anger bubbled up far too quickly for someone who was supposed to remain nonchalant.

“Oh relax, you crazy bitch. We sent him to an abbey in America to shovel pig shit.”

You exhaled a sigh of relief, feeling your muscles relax knowing that he was okay. “For what reason?”

The Cardinal tapped Brother López on the shoulder and gestured for him to leave, which he did promptly, fearing what he was going to see. “You know why.” The Cardinal said, simply. His voice quieter than usual.

Your voice was less sharp, but still loud. “I can assure thee, I do not.”

“You mean to tell me that you weren’t trying to escape? That you and Brother Hayward weren’t attempting to break you out of that little cage to get you to freedom, hm? Come on now, Angel. I’m more than happy for my pets to have pets, but when they start rebelling against me, lines must be drawn.”

“Thou wast aware he visited here?”

He took in a long breath through his nose, so sharp his nostrils retracted with the inhale. “Could smell him Every time I came home and his scent was stronger than usual - knew he was here a while. And then when he was under the bed, his heartbeat was so loud.” The Cardinal walked over to the cage and rested his hands on the bars, leaning his whole body on it. “His fear would have tasted so good.”

You spat in his face, hearing some of your spittle sizzle against the metal bars. The Cardinal sighed, and wiped it away before hitting the side of the cage.

“The next time you pull something like that, Angel,” he began, his voice loud and so enraged, “I will personally make sure your little pet dies in front of you, and I’ll make it slow and painful. Do you understand?”

When you didn’t answer, he hit the cage again. “Understand?”

“I understand.”

He stood up to his full height and straightened his hair, then began fiddling with his clothes. “I don’t like getting angry with you, Angel. But sometimes you leave me no choice.” He turned to walk away, but stopped at the door. “Oh, and angel?” He said, his voice soft and sweet like butter wouldn’t melt. He looked at you, mismatched eyes piercing into your soul. “Brother Hayward may be in a different country, but one word from me and all 6 litres of his blood gets delivered to my fridge, and his corpse will be buried beneath abbey soil. I’ll be back.”

The threat of his return felt even more sinister with the tone of voice he used, and for the first time since this whole ordeal started, you felt the sharp pang of fear that had the small amount of blood inside you run cold. Your safety didn’t matter. You were just you. But now Thomas’ life was in jeopardy and it was entirely your fault. Memories of Brother Thomas’ kind eyes and gentle words flooded your thoughts, each one a painful reminder of the danger he now faced because of you. Guilt gnawed at your insides like a ravenous beast, twisting and clawing at your conscience until it threatened to consume you whole. You had thought yourself strong, resilient in the face of the Cardinal’s torment. But now, faced with the consequences of your actions, you felt nothing but fear and despair creeping in, threatening to engulf you entirely.

As the Cardinal’s footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving behind an oppressive silence, you couldn’t shake the weight of his threats echoing in your mind. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. For though you may be trapped in this gilded cage, your spirit remained unbroken. And as long as there was breath in your body, you would fight tooth and nail to protect those you held dear, no matter the cost.

Your own body continued to repair itself, slower than it usually would. The five days it took you to regain consciousness turned into twenty more of total healing time. The Cardinal kept a monitor of your levels based on how you smelled, which meant every day, his long, rodent nose would poke through the bars as he inhaled your scent, making sure his tavern was restocking perfectly well. He didn’t try and pry any information from you in that time, which you hated to admit that you were grateful for. But he had developed a habit of sitting and staring at you, taking joy in watching you squirm uncomfortably. He’d brought in a red, velvet armchair from the living space to do just that. Every evening, he’d waltz into his room with a glass of your blood, now tainted red from your essence, and sit and observe you, like an animal in a cage. You never said anything: always believing he wanted you to start a conversation, but you’d never let him win.

At first, the Cardinal’s constant scrutiny had been unbearable, like a stifling weight pressing down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. His presence had been a constant reminder of your captivity, of just how at his mercy you truly were. But as the days stretched into weeks and the Cardinal’s routine became an unsettling rhythm in your life, something shifted within you. You found yourself growing accustomed to his gaze, almost welcoming it in a twisted sort of way. Not that you enjoyed it, by any means. Just that a routine was being established and the Cardinal became the only constant in your life. The only entertainment, too. And so, instead of shrinking away from his viewing, you began to meet his eyes head-on, a silent challenge in your gaze. You refused to cower under his oppressive stare, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. You found yourself seeing him in return, studying the lines of his face, the way his eyes glinted with a predatory gleam. There was a darkness lurking behind those mismatched orbs, a darkness that chilled you to the bone. But even as you studied him, a sense of defiance burned within you. You refused to let the Cardinal break you, refused to let him strip away your dignity and humanity. You were more than just a prisoner in a cage; you were a warrior, a survivor, and you would not be defeated so easily. Heaven couldn’t get you, neither could he.

So, you met the Cardinal’s gaze with steely determination, a silent reminder that despite his best efforts, you would not be broken. And as you stared back at him, you couldn’t help but wonder what secrets lay hidden behind those calculating eyes, what darkness lurked within the depths of his soul.

The Cardinal’s entrance into the room that night was accompanied by an air of smugness so thick you could practically taste it. His smirk was evident as he sauntered in, a book tucked under one arm and a glass of your blood held casually in the other, a smile so wide, you could see his fangs underneath the skin. You watched him with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, wondering what had put that self-satisfied gleam in his eyes. It was rare to see him so openly pleased with himself, and it set your nerves on edge.

As he approached your cage, he made no attempt to hide his triumphant grin, relishing in the power he held over you. He settled into the red velvet armchair with an air of satisfaction, taking a leisurely sip from the glass of blood as if it were the finest vintage wine, because, to him, it was. His eyes flicked over to you, and you met his gaze with a steely resolve, refusing to let him see any hint of fear or weakness. “So, Angel,” he began, his voice dripping with arrogance, but his words slurred slightly from the drink, “I’ve been doing some reading lately. Did you know there’s a whole chapter in this book dedicated to angels like you?”

Your stomach twisted uneasily at the implications of his words, but you kept your expression carefully neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“It seems there’s quite a lot I didn’t know about your kind,” he continued, his tone laced with malice. “But don’t worry, Angel. I plan on remedying that very soon.” With a chilling smile, he opened the book in his hands, his eyes gleaming with a dark intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “Do you know this book?”

You shook your head.

“It was written by Lorenzo Giovanni during the Renaissance, the last time an angel knowingly fell to Earth. A vampyre, like me. Spent most of his days studying the angel, finding out what makes you tick - turns out, he got pretty far. Unfortunately, his work was unfinished. A mob found out what he was and got to him in 1492, tied him up and let the Sun do all the work. But, do you know what he did find?” He didn’t wait for you to shake your head this time. He cleared his throat, and began to read aloud. As he began to read, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something far more sinister. “‘In celestial governance, once the manner is known, it is a simple matter. The heavenly messengers utilize the dread of the Almighty to manage their subordinates. However, those angels who have questioned the supremacy of the Lord are subject to the influences of their sacred radiance, the origin of which is their halo. Thus, one who attains an angel’s halo possesses the capability to command the entity, as well as the sacred radiance enveloping it.’ This we know, correct?”

You remained silent. So, the Cardinal continued, “‘This process assumes two guises: one to govern the physical form, the other to govern the intellect. To command the physical form, one must initially acquaint themselves with the name of the angel. As is observed with infernal entities, names possess a potency beyond human comprehension. Consequently, an angel bearing a name can readily relinquish control of their physical form merely by disclosing this fragment of information. Subduing the intellect, however, presents a greater challenge.’

“Basically,” he said, closing the book shut for dramatic affect, “I know your name, your body becomes mine.” He sighed, “Giovanni then goes onto say your mind is fully intact during this process, that you’ll feel your body moving but have no control over it.” He set his glass down on the dresser and walked towards your halo in its cage.

He grasped hold of it and you notice his hand was gloved, taking note of the care he was using to touch it. Your halo was just as dangerous to him as it was to you, but for different reasons. Without your halo, you were dead. Without your halo, you were controlled. For him, his skin would burn at the touch of it, like yours did with hellfire. For him, one wrong move and he would evaporate in the holy light. There was a part of you that wanted that to happen - wanted to see him perish in one of the most painful ways you had ever known. Yet there was an overpowering guilt that ate at you when you thought about it - knowing that the Almighty wanted you to love everyone, even at the detriment to yourself.

He took a step back and looked at you, smugness oozing from every pore. “I haven’t told Sister yet,” he mumbled, sitting back down on the chair. “I wanted to find out if it worked first. Tell me your name, Angel.”

“Thou must deem me a fool to willingly disclose such information.” You retorted, your voice barely above a whisper. Your mouth was dry.

He chuckled, a dark sound that shook you to your core. He nestled into the armchair, becoming comfortable in his throne of power. All of his movement was in his hips, lifting himself off the velvet to help him slide down it a little more, legs spread wide to exude his dominance. He was disgusting. “I thought you might say that,” he commented, his grin widening, “but you forget who I have.”

Thomas.

“You’ve experienced firsthand what I can do, Angel,” he continued, “except, I’ll make sure I’m much worse with him.”

“Thou would not.” You protested, trying to quell your panic. “The constabulary would be aware. Thou would be compelled to answer to the authorities.”

“I never said he’d survive.”

A chill ran down your spine. Your mind raced with fear and uncertainty as the Cardinal’s threat hung in the air like a dark cloud. Thomas was now in grave danger, and you were faced with an impossible choice. Would you sacrifice your own identity to save him, or would you stand firm and risk his life? You did know what the Cardinal could do - you’d been subjected to it since the moment you met him however long ago that was. You knew you could survive going through that again, especially if you had nothing to lose; but you couldn’t be sure about Thomas. He definitely didn’t deserve to feel the Cardinal’s wrath any more than he already may have. And could you live with yourself knowing you’d condemned a man to death just to save yourself, even if he did belong to the Satanic Church? By robbing him of his life, he’d never get the chance to return to God, to see the light and repent. You’d never get the chance to meet him again in Heaven. You’d rob him of his salvation, but you’d save yourself from the Cardinal’s damnation. Either way, you lost.

“If I divulge,” you began, puffing your chest to sound more confident and unafraid, “can thou ensure his well-being?”

The smugness faded from the Cardinal, if only for a moment. “Of course.” He responded, genuinely. “How else would I get you to do things I wanted?” He let the second sentence slip out, but paid it no mind once it had been released. He planned on using Thomas’ safety to continue to control you. You never should have let yourself get close to him - it allowed the Cardinal to win.

“And wilt thou demonstrate that he is unharmed? Wilt thou prove that thou speakest truthfully unto me?”

“I’ll get him to video chat you every week.”

You frowned, “I comprehend naught of thy words.”

“Video chat? FaceTime? Angels have no technology up there at all?” The Cardinal sighed at your blank expression and rummaged in his pocket to pull out the device you first saw him use. “This thing lets you have conversations with people that aren’t there with you. It shows you their face and hear their voice and, boom, conversation.”

“And thou wilt employ that contrivance to contact Tho- Brother Hayward?”

“Yes.”

You sighed. “___.”

“What?”

“My name. It is ___.”

“___.” The Cardinal nodded and set down the device next to his glass. He stood and unlocked your cage, before returning to his spot on the couch. He gently maneuvered your halo into the palm of his right hand, and brought it up to his mouth. “___, I command you to exit the cage.”

You laughed. You laughed at him. He lacked conviction which was why it failed, and it was so funny to watch him fumble. He cleared his throat, and now, with more confidence, repeated his order. Your body tingled in response, and despite you fighting it with great strength, your legs moved of their own accord. Your bare foot stepped out of the cage and onto the floor, barely feeling the textures beneath your feet. Your body ducked around the metal, wings tucked tightly to your body to stop any part of you from getting injured. Even under control, your body still did what it could to preserve itself. This was a new sensation to you, as you’d never been under someone else’s control before - you’d never needed to be because you were always a good soldier, even when you had your doubts. You’d never known anyone be subjected to this, either. Within seconds, you were out of the cage, standing in front of it with your wings outstretched. He hadn’t ordered you to stay still, to wait for the next instruction. But you did anyway, fearing that defiance would bring a painful end to Brother Thomas.

“___, I command you to spin on the spot.” The Cardinal ordered, a mischievous smile on his face and a glint in his eye.

When you did as he commanded, he laughed. It was a guttural laugh, hearty and jovial, clearly he was having fun with this. “Like a game of Capitan Giro. Capitan Giro dice stand on one leg.”

You did as commanded, and the Cardinal screamed in delight.

“Wait, I don’t need your name? I don’t need to be so formal? What if… put both feet to the floor.”

You did as commanded.

“Incredible. I wonder what else I could get you to do. How else I could humiliate you…” He stopped and thought for a moment, eyes darkening. “Come here.” This command was lower and deeper than the previous ones, quieter and somehow more intimate.

You fought against this command, but to no avail. Your feet, slowly, dragged you towards the Cardinal and only stopping when you were right in front of him, between his open legs. “On your knees.”

You obeyed. The whole time you made eye contact with him, staring daggers into his face and still hoping that the halo hurt him.

He held out his left hand, the one not holding the halo, and said, “Remove the glove.”

Your hands immediately sprung into action, grasping onto the hem of the leather and peeling it gently off of his hand, exposing the skin beneath.

“You know,” he grumbled as you pulled the final finger of his glove off him, “the Sister told me about you.”

He moved his hand to your face and tried to caress your cheek, but you moved away. “Come back, don’t fight me.” Slowly, you moved back to your original position, feeling your cheek meet his fingertips. His hand was large, taking up most of your face as he stroked it with such gentility, you weren’t entirely sure that this was the same man who had caused you great pain for so long. His thumb sat beside your nose, and gently stroked your skin.

“She told me about your purity,” he continued. “How you’re still the good angel Yhwh intended.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Open your mouth.”

You did. You opened it a small amount, but it was enough for him. He slotted his thumb inside and rubbed the pad over your tongue, as if he was studying your mouth. His knuckle, briefly, hit the tip of your small fangs - not enough to hurt him, but enough to have him fascinated by them.

“Suck on my finger.”

Your mouth closed around the digit in your mouth, lips stretching just a little over his skin, and you heard the Cardinal exhale a shaky breath. He watched the obscenity in front of him, how your cheeks hollowed around his thumb that he slowly began to move in and out of your mouth. His cheeks were flushed, partially because of your blood, but also because his own was rushing around his body, still pumping life into it despite his insides being almost dead. His pupils were blown, and his eyes were hooded, making him look a little crazy. His lips parted, and his breaths were laboured, chest rising and falling as though his lungs still worked - a force of habit, you thought.

You didn’t understand this - what he was doing. You’d never seen anyone do this before, but your mind was racing with possibilities. Perhaps he was testing your mouth, making sure your health was good. Or maybe it was some strange form of comfort for him, you pondered. Perhaps he found solace in this bizarre act, a fleeting moment of intimacy amidst the chaos of his life. As his thumb moved in and out of your mouth, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease mingled with curiosity.

You should bite down.

You couldn’t. Not that you weren’t trying, but you were under the influence of the halo. You just couldn’t get your teeth to clench around his thumb.

Despite your confusion, you continued to suck on his finger obediently, just as the Cardinal had ordered. You focused on the rhythm of his movements, trying to make sense of the strange sensation in your mouth.

“Cazzo.” He let out a whisper, barely audible but because of the quiet of the room, the humming of technology barely covered the sound.

As time passed, it couldn’t have been more than a minute, you couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort that gnawed at you. Yet, you dared not speak up, afraid to disrupt the fragile peace that enveloped the room. So you remained silent, your mind still racing with unanswered questions, as you obediently continued to suck on his finger.

Suddenly, the Cardinal’s eyes widened, a look of shock appearing on his face. He yanked his thumb from your mouth and physically pushed you away, grasping onto the halo a little tighter than he should have. “B-back in the cage.” He said quickly, standing up and walking over to your halo’s cage.

He didn’t need to use the halo to order you back behind bars, you were already scrambling to your feet and rushing to fit yourself in through the bars. He refused to make eye contact with you, noticing that he was feeling shame. Shame for what, you couldn’t say, but he spent most of the time staring at the floor as he locked you back inside. Your eyes wandered, too. From his face, over his body, until you saw the tent in his crotch every time he stood side-on. You weren’t completely foolish, you knew what that meant. You’d spent enough time with mortals, and saw a varying degree of sin that they would commit regularly. But you still couldn’t piece together the correlation between his finger in your mouth and the reason for his body’s reaction. He didn’t say a word, instead grabbing the glass and all but running out the door.

Perhaps you were feeling some of his shame now that you knew he’d used you to sin. He’d sinned with you before, every single time he caused you pain was sin enough, but this felt different somehow. Before, it was all the sins that were done to you; because of your implicitness due to the halo’s control, it felt like he was sinning with you. Shame, anger, and a deep sense of discomfort gnawed at your insides, making you feel vulnerable and exposed.

You had been subjected to a degrading and humiliating act, one that left you feeling powerless and violated. The Cardinal’s actions had stripped away your dignity and autonomy, reducing you to nothing more than a mere object for his pleasures.

Anger simmered within you, fueled by the injustice of being treated in such a deplorable manner. You resented the Cardinal for his blatant disregard for your dignity and for his abuse of power. How dare he manipulate and exploit you for his own perverse desires?

The deep sense of discomfort stemmed from the violation of your boundaries and the invasion of your personal space. His unwelcome advances had left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if your very essence had been laid bare for his scrutiny.

But then, the feeling dawned on you, was this not a similar way the Almighty had treated you? How He would get His subordinates to send you down to the mortal realm and commit atrocities on His behalf. In Egypt and Canaan, and even the shores of Italia, in His name you enacted awful things, bore witness to tragedies no person should ever see. While the Cardinal used you for some kind of sexual gratification, the Almighty used you for egotistical gratification, and either way, you were a pawn in someone else’s game, an object to be used at will regardless of your own opinions. You could never condone or justify the Cardinal’s behaviour towards you, but you’d also never had autonomy over your own person, so was it any different?

In some weird twist, you had come to realise that despite being trapped in a cage, your mind was freer than it ever had been in Heaven, your thoughts were your own, and your feelings went more-or-less unpunished. And in comparison, who was truly the Devil? Lucifer, or the Almighty?

The Cardinal didn’t come to visit you the next day, or the day after that, or the subsequent week that followed. He wouldn’t even come back to his chambers to rest, opting to spend his time elsewhere and avoiding you - an easy task, you were sure, given that he had kept you in the cage the whole time. You were unsure how to feel about this, whether this was something you should be grateful for, or if you should be afraid.

The longer you were around the vampyres, the more you’d begun to understand them and their ways; their thoughts and feelings, and what made them tick. Given that you’d not seen the Sister in so long, you could assume that the Cardinal hadn’t told her about his discovery. If he had, she’d have charged into his chambers, gripped hold of your halo, and practiced on you herself. Her insatiable thirst for power and control outweighed her thirst for your blood, and thus, if she knew your secret, you’d know too.

But then, why had the Cardinal kept that secret? Both he and the Sister wanted power, specifically power over you. They had been working together from the start to make sure they got what they wanted, your health and safety be damned. So why hadn’t the Cardinal told her everything? You pondered these questions in the silence of your cage, the only company being the dim glow of your halo, a sense of unease washing over you in more ways than one.

By the time you had healed completely, the Cardinal had returned with the empty bottles, but still found it difficult to look you in the eye. His gaze flickered with a mixture of guilt and apprehension, a silent acknowledgment of the unspeakable acts he had committed in his pursuit of power… or pleasure?

You watched him closely, noting the tension in his movements and the weariness etched into his features. Despite the disguise of indifference he attempted to show, you could sense the conflict raging within him, a storm of inconsistent emotions that threatened to consume him whole. He’d not rested well enough - you wondered if he’d even eaten properly. Then you wondered why you cared.

As he went about his task of arranging empty buckets around his bed, you remained silent, studying his every move with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Why buckets, this time? There was an obvious shift in the air, a tension that hung between you, heavily shrouding you both an an intense suffocation.

With each passing moment, the weight of his silence grew heavier, a burden that bore down upon you with unbearable force. You longed to break the oppressive stillness, to confront him with the questions that burned in the depths of your soul, but you held your tongue, wary of the consequences of speaking out.

In the end, it was the Cardinal who broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper as he addressed you. “I won’t bind you when I let you out… I’m trusting you to be on your best behaviour.”

You simply nodded in response.

“No funny business, no trying to escape… no attacking, got it?”

“I shall not undertake such actions today,” you told him, “yet I offer no assurances for the morrow.”

He laughed as though you were telling him a joke. His laughter echoed through the chamber, a hollow sound that reverberated off the walls. Despite the tension that lingered between you, there was a sense of relief in his amusement, a fleeting moment of levity amidst the heavy atmosphere that surrounded you. “Well, I suppose that’s better than nothing,” he replied, his tone lightening slightly. “Just remember, Angel, I’m not afraid to put you back in that cage if you step out of line.”

You met his gaze with a steady stare, your eyes alight with a quiet defiance. “I understand,” you said, your voice firm and unwavering. “But mark this, Cardinal - I shall not be imprisoned anew, not without resistance.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a spark of recognition that mirrored the fire that burned within your own soul. In that moment, you saw a glimmer of respect in his gaze, a grudging acknowledgment of your strength and determination.

“Very well,” he said, his voice tinged with resignation. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

He moved towards your cage, unlocked and opened the door, and took a step back, still holding it as though he were a gentleman holding the door for his wife. With apprehension, you climbed out, wings cocooning your body again until you were completely free of the metal. You chanced a glance at your halo, which was still locked up tight in the cage, and somehow you felt relieved. You stretched your entire body out, wings included, grateful for the feeling. All the while, you still watched the Cardinal potter around the room until he invited you onto his bed again.

You hesitated until you saw the plea in his eyes. “What dost thou withhold from me, Cardinal?”

He shook his head, “If you don’t let me drain you now, things will end up worse for us both. Just do as I ask this one time, please.”

You regarded him with a mix of wariness and resignation, knowing that you had little choice but to comply with his request. With a heavy sigh, you moved towards the bed, your movements slow and deliberate as you approached him.

As you settled onto the plush mattress, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled over you like a heavy cloak. The Cardinal’s intentions were clear, his desire for your blood palpable in the air, and yet you found yourself unable to resist his command. You felt the first needle prick into the crook of your arm, and watched as your blood began to pour into the bucket. Then you saw him prick the second needle in, and the cycle repeat. Usually, the Cardinal would stand back and watch menacingly. But this time, he gently crawled onto the bed, lifted you up, and slotted you on top of him, so you were using his body as a pillow instead.

As the Cardinal cradled you in his arms, using his body as a makeshift pillow, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of discomfort wash over you. The intimacy of the gesture was unsettling, a stark contrast to the usual brutality of your interactions with him.

With each drop of blood that left your body, you felt a sense of vulnerability creep in, the realization dawning on you that you were completely at his mercy. Despite your instinctive urge to resist, you found yourself unable to muster the strength to pull away, trapped in a state of submission that left you feeling powerless and exposed.

You passed out, despite your body fighting it.

You were barely conscious when you woke, the needles still in your arms and the Cardinal still behind you. This time, you could feel his hands running up and down your biceps and stroking your hair, as if he was trying to comfort you. You wanted to recoil from his touch, to push him away and reclaim the boundaries he had violated so mercilessly more than once. And yet, a part of you couldn’t help but crave the warmth of his embrace, the fleeting sense of connection that offered a brief respite from the cold reality of your captivity.

Your body lost consciousness again, the last thing you felt were his fingertips tracing light patterns into your skin.

You roused from your uneasy slumber, disoriented and groggy, the memory of the Cardinal’s touch haunting your exposed flesh. As your senses slowly returned, you realized that the needles were no longer piercing your skin, their absence bringing a faint sense of relief amidst the lingering discomfort.

You looked around the room, heart heavy, seeking any sign of the Cardinal’s whereabouts, but all you saw was the empty space of his bed and the stifling silence that enveloped the room like a blanket. Feelings of fear and panic started to seethe at the borders of your mind as you struggled with the disconcerting realisation that you were alone in the room, and not trapped up in your cage where you’d normally be after such an extraction.

You strained to get yourself upright, your muscles protesting with each movement as you forced yourself to look around more closely. However, no matter how hard you looked, there was no sign of the Cardinal, no clue of where he had gone or what he was plotting next.

The sound of voices coming from the living room sent shivers down your spine, breaking the strange calm that had encased the Cardinal’s quarters. You strained your ears, nervously attempting to figure out who was talking and who was there.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened closely, the murmur of voices becoming louder and clearer with each passing instant. Their tones conveyed a sense of urgency, a palpable tension that appeared to linger in the air like a building storm.

For a tiny moment, you cherished the hope that Brother Thomas would return to liberate you from your captivity and deliver you from the Cardinal’s tyranny. But deep down, you understood that such dreams were nothing more than desperate illusions created out of your own sorrow.

One of the voices belonged to the Cardinal… the other… the Sister.

You strained to catch every word of the furious discussion between the Sister and the Cardinal, their voices rising and falling in a chaotic symphony of wrath and frustration. From your position in the bedroom, you could feel the tension crackling in the air like electricity, heavy and stifling.

The words they exchanged formed a bleak picture, indicating a flaw in their carefully crafted relationship. It became clear that the Cardinal had acted with purposeful intent by draining you of your blood before the full moon night, undermining their plans to perform the second ritual.

Confusion blurred your mind as you tried to make sense of the Cardinal’s strange choice to sabotage the ceremony. It didn’t make sense; why would he go to such extent to foil plans that he had personally set up? You felt lost and confused, as if the puzzle pieces would not fit together in your brain.

You couldn’t shake the notion that the Cardinal’s acts were more than just what they appeared to be. His intentions remained a mystery, and you couldn’t help but wonder what underlying agenda drove his betrayal. Was he behaving in his own self-interest, or was he motivated by something else that you couldn’t figure out? Or was there a deeper, more nefarious motive at work?

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 10 months ago

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I Can Fix That... Pt. 2 | Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

author's note: I decided to make a pt. 2 purely for my own enjoyment, though I hope there are others out there as sadistic as myself. I finally watched the Batman trilogy and did research on DC fan pages to write this. It follows the plot of Nolan's DC adaptation so all characters mentioned (like Ra's Al Ghul) are from the comics and movies.

Summary| She gave into Crane because she needed to survive, at least that's what she's tried to tell herself, but there was something about this man that just felt so painfully... right. Now Crane has a proposition and he doesn't intend to take no for an answer because he's starting to like her -- uh oh-- too much. Where will their new agreement lead them when Gotham devolves into chaos?

Warnings| Based on an DC action movie- drugging, slut shaming, fear and terror, dubious kidnapping, restraints, drugs, physical violence, spitting, toxic relationship, mentions of a gun, chaos, and needles. I know- it's a lot.

word count: 8596k (lol oopsies?)

Wires- The Neighborhood 🎶

Where did you sleep last night- Iridium, Salazar, Liam Marks 🎵

Caesar on a TV Screen- The Last Dinner Party 🎶

The detective nodded her head, surprised that she’d so easily forgotten her plan. Dr. Crane sniffed and spun his set of keys around his finger casually.

“Now the best thing about being the creator of my fear serum,” he started, moving to the shelf of vials he had previously sorted, “is that I have an endless supply and every opportunity to use it whenever I want.” She could hear him smile but she could no longer see him. Crane admittedly liked the girl and he’d fucked her as a minor pivot in his original plan for the night. Now, it was time for business. He pulled a dish of powder from a locked drawer and hid it away from sight as he crossed back into the girl’s view. “You may think you understand what my serum can do, but you’ll never truly know until you try it.” She furrowed her brow and shook her head, wishing that she could back away from him but she couldn’t move. He changed the subject swiftly, not giving her a moment.

“I applaud you for your performance tonight. I was more than willing to humor you and of course, your present state did you many favors. I like my women tied down…” he joked and chuckled darkly. “But now, we need to get practical.” He removed his glasses and folded them slowly. He slipped them into his breast pocket. “You know too much, Miss —, and we both know that your current allegiance to your job would prioritize a crude sense of justice over your affection for me. We can’t have that, can we? So, I’d like to propose a solution or a treatment of sorts.” He clenched his jaw, angling his head down so that he was looking up at her through his eyelashes. “You’ve already proven to yourself tonight that the mind has complete control over the body. Desire rules judgment… and I want to rule you.” He smiled darkly. Before she could speak, powder was thrown into her face, blocking every orifice with a sickening gas.

The anxiety was immediate. She saw strange creatures approach her from all sides, poking and prodding her with dirty nails. She saw the walls leak a disgusting fluid, like blood and fecal matter and it spilled over the floor. People sorted through the liquid for scraps, children screamed and cried around her. She’d been one of those children, raised in an orphanage because her parents couldn’t afford to keep her. Strange men swarmed the children, offering toxic treats and money for favors which the children shied away from. She screamed, pulling at her restraints as she tried to fight off the assailants. She shook her head violently side to side, and she screamed involuntarily with raw terror at what she saw. In the midst of a nightmare of Gotham’s poverty and dark underbelly, Dr. Jonathan Crane stood calmly before her. He watched her, his arms crossed against his chest. He cocked his head to the side.

“What do you see,” he asked calmly. She turned her attention to him like he was a beacon of light in a horrible storm.

“Jonathan, help me!” She cried.

“Tell me what you see,” he said again and clucked his tongue to calm her. She looked around again at the people she saw, rummaging through mountains of trash.

“Horrible… horrible poverty. The things… the things I saw as a child. People starving, children crying…” she whimpered. Rats scrambled across her body and she screamed again, shaking against the table. “Jonathan, please!” She called for him and he waded towards her, oblivious to the horror around him. He stood above her and stroked her face. He removed the restraints from her waist and her wrists and helped her sit up. The things she saw darted out of her peripheral vision, distorted now and hard to understand. She couldn’t run because she couldn’t tell where she was anymore, where her body was in relation to her perspective. Did she even still have a body?

Dr. Crane grunted as he helped her off the table and held her up beside him. She fainted in his arms and he carried her out of the secondary lab into the corridor. He punched the elevator’s call button with his free hand and dragged her inside. As the large steel doors closed, he fished for his cellphone in his pocket and called his driver, telling him to meet him outside the hospital immediately. Crane hushed her, gently patting her head though she was still unconscious. The elevator dropped them at the floor she’d entered on originally and Crane carried her to the side door, ignoring the looks the night attendants gave the strange couple. A sleek black car waited outside in the alley, the engine running and dispelling smoky exhaust into the air around them. Crane opened the car door and helped her inside, smirking at the security guard at the door.

“Our meeting was successful, thank you officer.” He waved goodnight to the security guard who shifted awkwardly in his seat at the side door. Climbing in after her, Crane leaned over the console to speak with his driver.

“My apartment, please.” He gave the order sternly, even with the addition of the ‘please,’ and the driver nodded, speeding off into Gotham’s dark streets. His hand rested comfortably on her thigh as he watched her. She started to come to in the backseat, though the effects of the drug had still not worn off. Her breath was fast and she leaned deliriously into Crane’s shoulder, seeking protection from what she saw outside the tinted windows. She was so afraid that she felt safer in the arms of the man that had drugged her, and it would take hours to realize that, but by the time she did, the psychological effects would have already taken root.

The car stopped outside of a dark apartment building in one of the only nice parts of town in Gotham city. It was raining as he helped her back out of the car and into the large lobby of his apartment building. She clung to his arm as he led her into an elevator, playing a soft melody that sounded like shrill screams to her intoxicated mind. As the elevator doors opened, effects of the drug began to wane though her heartbeat was still racing. She looked up at Crane’s sharp jaw and how he clenched it as he opened the door to his apartment and pushed her gently inside.

“I pay my people extra to turn a blind eye to everything that I do. I understand these circumstances appear even more nefarious, being that I have admittedly drugged you and brought you to my apartment. What can I say, I’m a bad feminist.” He smiled darkly and locked the door.

“When do I stop seeing… these things?” She collapsed into a chair behind her and cradled her head in her hands.

“The effects will be gone in an hour,” he responded coolly and switched on some of the lights in his modern apartment. The apartment was two stories with a spiral staircase and an elevator that led to the upstairs. She looked around, trying her best to ignore the hallucinations and study the actual apartment itself.

“You’ll be disappointed to know that I don’t have a lab here, it’s against the building’s codes. I spend very little time here actually, I’m always at Arkham or dealing with detectives… like you. I’m a busy man. Like I already told you, I have plans to ‘treat’ Falcone tomorrow so I’ll need that room free. This is the next best option and I think you’ll find it more comfortable in comparison.” He smirked and flicked a switch, immediately two restraints looped tightly around her wrists, emerging from a panel in the arms of the chair that she hadn’t noticed. Second restraints looped around her ankles, reminding her as her ankles were spread apart that he had removed her underwear. She turned her knees inward, hiding her crotch and scoffing with frustration.

“Again?” She groaned and pulled at the strong leather material holding her to the chair.

“You sound disappointed,” Crane observed with a small smirk. “It’s only temporary. I didn’t get a chance to question you back at the lab, so we’ll do that here.” He gestured to his empty apartment and started to walk toward her slowly. His lips curled cruelly as he looked her up and down, strapped to the chair. “So tell me, what do you know?” He whispered and she stopped struggling for a moment. She still felt jumpy and nervous but having him so close relieved some of those feelings. The effects of the drug wore off more but the underlying sense of anxiety and loss of control prompted her to answer honestly.

I know that you are trying to make a powerful drug that mimics fear and so far, you’ve put it in a powder form. It works when ingested in some ways and immediately elicits a response that incapacitates the victim. You want to use it widely, to control Gotham…”

“Right, what else.” He leaned on the arms of the chair, his hands grasped around her wrists.

“You don’t work for Falcone but you work with someone else. You’ve just been using Falcone’s drug operation to move your own prototypes of the fear serum. You want to be in charge and you know that fear can do whatever you want it to. The mind controls the body,” she recalled a sentence that he had used before he had thrown the powder in her face. “You’re also somehow connected to the missing micro-wave emmitter. I don’t know why but it may help you in some way, how?” She was breathing heavily like she was going to fall asleep.

“Good work, detective.”

“What are you using the micro-wave emitter for?” She asked. He chuckled and removed his hands from her wrists, backing up. He approached a small liquor cart and poured himself a drink, straight gin. She continued as he drank.

“Who are you working with and how do you expect to control Gotham when everyone loses their minds?” She could barely contain her voice, anger and confusion rose into her throat like bile.

“So many questions…” he swallowed and set down his glass, turning back to her slowly. “Aren’t you supposed to figure that out for yourself?” He raised his eyebrow.

“The mirco-wave emitter would dry out any water supply that it comes into contact with. Wouldn’t it be easier to poison the water supply, you would reach more people… unless it doesn’t have the same effect when administered in water.” She looked up at him but his face was hard. “That’s why you’ve been using it in a powder, it only works in a powder form. If you dry up the water supply and release the powder into the air, there isn’t a way to combat the effects, is there?”

Crane smiled and nodded slowly, “right again.”

“How can you control people who have lost their minds on the serum? You can’t control chaos.” She furrowed her brow and leaned forward, questioning him. Crane cocked his head and studied her for a moment, noticing the last traces of the fear serum leaving her body.

“Control has many forms, Y/N. The chaos that will come from my serum is planned, its existence is strategically executed.”

“But why are you doing this?”

“I love it when you get flustered,” he chuckled darkly at her and licked his lips, his eyes rolling before returning to her face. “It’s not just me, I work for a large organization that has been responsible for all historical catastrophes throughout history. We deal in balance, balanced chaos. They hired me because I can control fear, I know how to use it and weaponize it. Gotham needs to be balanced and it cannot be balanced without it first destroying itself. Create a closed environment with the population’s problems and confront them with chaos, the balance will soon be restored.”

“Who do you work for?” She whispered, her eyes wide.

“Don’t you mean, who do we work for?” He crouched at her feet and placed his hands on her thighs. He smiled crazily up at her and she leaned away from him.

“What?” She whispered.

“I work for the League of Shadows, and now, so do you.�� He dug his finger into the soft bottom of her chin and pushed her head up so that she could see the second floor more clearly.

Standing at the rail were men clad in dark armor. One man stood out from the rest. He wore a black suit and carried a gold-tipped cane. He had long whiskers of gray hair like a mustache and steady cool eyes, deadlier than Crane’s.

“Good work, Dr. Crane.” The man kept his focus on her and her blood went cold. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Miss —. We’ve heard so much about you and of course, you’re the one that has caused us so much trouble!” He laughed sarcastically and descended the spiral staircase.

“Who are you?” She growled.

“Ra’s Al Ghul,” he smiled and the wrinkles on his face creased, pulling against his eyes. “I see you’ve already become acquainted with Dr. Crane, our very own criminal mastermind.”

“You’re too kind,” Crane smarted back, watching the girl’s face as she tried to take in all of the new information.

“Now, I have a job proposition to offer you, Miss —. You seem to have figured most of our plan out but I don’t think you understand the complexity of our organization. You see, the League of Shadows is an ancient organization that has balanced the harmony of every major city in the world since the beginning of time. Gotham has gone bad, to the point of no return. Your ‘Batman’ as you call him can’t reverse what has been brewing for years. He never saw what you did, how the people of Gotham live in filth and poverty while the elite few enjoy the spoils. This city needs to be reborn, it needs chaos to restore the balance.”

“But wouldn’t you be killing thousands of innocent people?” She interjected and Al Ghul shrugged slightly.

“Nobody’s innocent,” he answered quickly and then inhaled, clarifying, “Anyway, that’s not what we want to do here. If we take control of the city and hold it for ransom, we can work out a deal to replace the crooked government with some of our people. I’m offering you a role alongside my people. You’re smart, all that evidence you collected against Crane- none of the senior officers could have held a match to it. We destroyed it of course, as soon as Crane told us about your little visit.” She looked past Al Ghul to Crane who leaned against the wall calmly. Had they destroyed the copies? How could she be sure that they were telling the truth? “The box of evidence you had put aside for Sgt. Gordon was the hardest to find but we found it. What made you suspect Dr. Crane? Was it a gut instinct?” He drew on before she interrupted him.

“You want me to help you kill people?” She furrowed her brow and nearly laughed in disbelief.

“We want your help to save Gotham from itself and establish a new and better government.” He corrected, fixing his posture. Crane watched her closely and spoke up from the back of the room.

“She’ll do it,” he answered and she opened her mouth to interject but his smirk silenced her. “She’ll do it because whether or not she wants to admit it, Miss —, is like us.” Crane reached into his breast pocket and removed his glasses. He cleaned the panels with a dish towel and pushed them onto his nose. She looked between Crane and Al Ghul, her heart beating quickly in her chest.

“Will you join us, will you help us save Gotham?” Ra’s Al Ghul placed both of his hands on top of his walking stick and shifted his weight evenly between his feet. Crane folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side, a knowing smile played on his wide pink lips. Her decision surprised her but the serum had already changed her chemistry, Crane had revealed her true self to herself and there was only one choice left.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Crane nodded, “good girl.”

iii

She was released from her restraints and she rubbed her wrists where the leather marked them. Ra’s Al Ghul snapped his fingers and a map was rolled out on Crane’s dining room table. The map was of the entire city of Gotham, showing the sewer and water lines. They explained the plan, showing her where the micro-wave emitter would be placed in the city and how it would be moved through each neighborhood.

“What about the police?” She asked and gestured to the map of the city. Crane laughed and shook his head.

“You were the only cop that suspected this, the rest will have no idea until it's already started. The person we really need to worry about is Batman,” he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced up at Al Ghul, “luckily for him, an old friend is coming by to visit.” Al Ghul nodded and smiled kindly at her.

“Batman and I go way back. I’ll take care of him.”

“What am I supposed to do?” She asked, her arms crossed beneath her breasts. Crane caught himself staring and cleared his throat.

“You’ll help me with the production of the powder, ensuring that your cop friends don’t figure out too much and keeping Sgt. Gordon away from Arkham or leading him astray… anything,” Crane answered, setting his face as he spoke. She nodded.

Though they had asked her to join their efforts, they also obviously didn’t trust her completely. They wouldn’t tell her everything, she knew. Her night had gone in a completely different direction than how she had imagined it. Everything had changed after the fear serum, it had shown her that what she feared most had already happened. The police were corrupt, run by small-time gangsters and criminals and crime continued to run rampant as the state lost more and more money, forcing social service organizations to close and more families out on the streets. This whole time she thought that the police could solve the problem but they only caused it. Crane was right, she was like him and she would do anything she could to change the city. After the meeting, Crane poured her a drink and dissolved a packet of powder into the liquor. He stirred it in front of her and Al Ghul before sliding it across the table’s surface.

“This will put you to sleep for a few hours, twelve at most. It’s only a precaution to make sure that you have truly promised your allegiance to us. Everything that you say will be monitored from this point on.”

“Everything?” She looked at Crane who clenched his jaw, a faint tease of blush spread on his cheeks.

“Everything. Do as we say and follow our rules and you stay alive,” Crane finished and tapped the rim of the glass. “Now drink.”

“How do I know that you aren’t just poisoning me?” She asked the men around her.

“We’re learning to trust each other, but you have to go first.” He smiled and when Al Ghul said nothing, she took the glass and drank it slowly. The last thing she saw were Crane’s eyes, set perfectly on her.

She was conscious enough to set her glass down before falling back onto the couch. Crane approached her quickly and checked her pulse, monitoring her reaction to the drug.

“Did it work?” Ra’s Al Ghul asked behind him and he nodded.

“Yes, she’s out. Because of all the drugs in her system already, this one may take longer to wear off.”

“All the other drugs?” Al Ghul raised his eyebrow and Crane chuckled.

“I couldn’t help myself and besides,” he turned to Al Ghul, “you wanted her alive.”

“I’m not convinced that we can trust her,” Al Ghul shook his head and pointed at the map for his men to clean up.

“Oh, I’ll make sure we can.”

“With your mind tricks?” Al Ghul teased and Crane sighed, rolling his beautiful eyes.

“Don’t insult me, Ra’s. I know what I’m doing.” He warned the man calmly and nodded to the men. Two men helped carry her body as Crane led them back down the elevator into the lobby which was deserted at that time in the early morning. They climbed into Crane’s waiting car and pulled away from the curb. The girl’s body was limp against the seat and Crane resisted the urge to stare at her, fascinated by her sleeping body. The men carried her up to her apartment on the third floor of a small walkup. Crane rummaged through her coat pockets for the key into her apartment and unlocked the door.

Her apartment was small and cozy, furnished with minimal couches and chairs. Books and art decorated the walls. Crane pushed through the door and directed the men to lie her down in her bedroom, the small room off of the main living area. They men looked back at him expectantly as he stood by the doorway, watching her sleep. He rolled his eyes and shooed them away. What did they think he was going to do? He’d already fucked her. Alone in her apartment, he stood by her bed and stroked her cheek. She slept on, engulfed by unconscious darkness. He leaned over her slowly and grasped her throat gently, exhaling across her face. He said nothing but looked her up and down and smirked, pleased at the sight of her. He’d won another spoil: her.

She woke up in her bed, twisted in the sheets as if she had been restless all night. She was sweaty and hot, the air stuffy around her. Crane and Al Ghul were nowhere to be seen. She checked her watch and hurried out of bed, stripping off her clothes from the night before and into black trousers and a dark blue sweater. She stumbled into the living room and wound her hair up into a claw clip, moving towards the door when a voice startled her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dr. Crane spoke from the couch. He was in a fresh suit and looked well-rested. He was taking notes in a file on Falcone, his briefcase sat on the coffee table in front of him. She jumped, gasping from shock.

“Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?”

“I was waiting for you to wake up. We have work to do today. That bitch at the DA’s office wants to speak with me. I'm supposed to meet with her this afternoon. She’s questioning Falcone’s transfer.”

“I ordered the transfer after you did Falcone’s interview, maybe I could meet with her instead.”

“No, I need you to take this file to the judge on Falcone’s case. I can handle her questions.” He stood and held out Falcone’s file. “I already gave my statement at the hearing but this file will confirm my medical opinion, hopefully that will get her off my back.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Do you think Falcone will talk if she speaks with him?”

“Possibly,” he bent his head side to side and shrugged, “but we aren’t going to find out. Let’s go,” he snapped his briefcase closed and made for the front door. She glanced from the couch to her bedroom.

“Were you watching me all night?” She flushed angrily and followed him. He closed the door suddenly and spun her around, forcing her back against the front door.

“I can only say this once because they aren’t listening now but as soon as we get in the car, they’ll be monitoring you. I am keeping you alive, Miss —. I will do everything in my power to keep you alive but the second you step away from me, you’re on your own. I know we have an understanding so believe me when I say that I would prefer very much if you didn’t die. Follow my directions because they’re following you.” He said in a harsh whisper, a strand of hair falling into his face. They stared at each other in silence, exchanging breath when he kissed her harshly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned softly against his lips. He bucked into her hips and she gasped softly against his jaw. And just as quickly, he pulled away, breathing heavily and led her out the door and down the stairs into the waiting car.

“I’ll need my gun back,” she pointed out as they settled on the backseat. Crane sighed, unbuttoning his suit jacket. He opened a small compartment in the car door and retrieved her gun. As he held it out, he took her jaw in his other hand, his thumb pressing into her fleshy cheek.

“This is where that trust would come in handy, detective.” He whispered darkly. She looked at his lips and then up to his eyes, speechless around him. He watched her struggle for words and chuckled, handing her the gun. “Be careful, Y/N, and remember Ra’s plan.” He looked at her lips and sniffed, slapping the roof of the car. “This is her stop.”

She met with the judge who oversaw Falcone’s case and gave him the thick folder. He looked at it briefly before recognizing the information.

“I appreciate you coming out to speak to me about Falcone’s transfer to Arkham but I cleared everything with Ms. Dawes yesterday. She’s already scheduled a second psychiatrist to meet with Falcone first thing tomorrow morning. She mentioned that she’s also requested Dr. Crane’s case file. Has she seen this?” He waved the folder and she clicked her tongue, shocked that she had scheduled a second opinion and that Crane didn’t know about it.

“I’m not sure, sir. I was the detective working with the prosecution and I was the one who oversaw Dr. Crane’s examination and request for transfer. I can attest to Falcone's mood at the time as well. He screamed nonstop as Crane was trying to conduct a test of sanity. Anyway, I wanted to make sure that you saw Dr. Crane’s diagnosis in the aftermath of his transfer. This has updated notes that Dr. Crane shared with me. It might be useful in your deliberation.” She smiled and the judge looked down his nose at the folder.

“Good point. Thank you, detective. This is helpful.” He opened the folder on his desk and put on his rounded spectacles.

“Well now that we’ve spoken, I’ll try to catch Dawes and save her the trouble.” She pushed back her chair and brushed off her trousers.

“Miss —?” The judge called from his desk.

“Yes, sir?” She looked back.

“Dr. Crane has committed many of Falcone’s men to Arkham in the past few months, is that correct?”

“Yes,” she nodded and her heart raced.

“That must be a pretty crazy group.” The judge laughed and went back to the folder, completely missing the pattern. She sighed in relief and left quickly. She started to walk to Arkham, moving so quickly she felt like she may have been running. Dawes had already scheduled a second opinion, meaning that she was probably at Arkham pressuring Crane for his detailed diagnosis. It would take Dawes one second to figure it out so she hoped she could get there quickly enough to do something. She had no plan which she knew was stupid but whatever was bound to happen in the next few hours would be bad and she needed to help Crane. Her phone began to ring and she put it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.”

“Ra’s?”

“Are you on your way to Arkham?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Turn around and go back to your precinct. I want you to stick close to Sgt. Gordon, go where he goes. You’re his top detective so run with it. If anything happens at Arkham, he’ll be there and I want you there with him. Crane will be fine.”

She slowed to a stop, skeptical but wanting to believe what her new boss was telling her, “ok, sir.”

After a second of silence, Ra’s added, “It’s Batman’s birthday and what better way to celebrate a playboy than with chaos?” The call ended before she could respond.

She spun around and headed straight for the precinct. She spotted Gordon at his desk, working on paperwork. She hurried over and knocked on the door, letting herself in when he waved.

“Good, I’m glad to see you. I need to run some ideas by you for the Falcone case.”

“I just dropped off Crane's diagnosis for the judge but he said that Dawes may be seeking a second opinion.”

“About that -” The intercom went off with a loud screech.

“Attention all units! Attention all units! Batman was spotted at Arkham Asylum. He is believed to be armed and dangerous. Backup is requested at this time.” The voice repeated with a robotic drone. Sgt. Gordon looked from the speaker to her and grabbed his coat from his chair.

“We need to get to the asylum right now.” Gordon yelled and she followed him closely, checking that her gun was still secured to her hip. She clipped her badge to her front pocket and pretended to sound confused.

“Why are we going, Sgt? Do you think this is about Falcone?”

“It might, I’d feel better if I was there to find out; and if Batman is there, someone’s in trouble.” They hurried down the stairs and climbed into a car. Gordon sped away from the precinct and ran red lights. The tires bled across the roads as they came to a screeching halt behind a row of police cars parked outside the Asylum.

“Why is everyone waiting outside?” She yelled over the noise. An officer standing with his gun aimed at the building yelled back.

“We’re waiting for backup!”

“They’ll be here soon, sir. We should wait!” She yelled over the noise at the Sgt.

Gordon looked up at the building and pulled his gun from his holster. He started moving towards the building, looking back to wave her on.

“I’m going in. You coming?” He called.

She groaned anxiously beneath her breath before responding, “yes, sir!” They raced up the stairs into the lobby which was left completely vacant. Gordon held up his gun and she followed suit, staying close behind him. She felt the urge to kill him now and find Crane but her gut warned her that someone else was in the room, watching. They walked slowly through the main corridor, past the abandoned security checkpoint, creeping closer to the wide atrium. When they stepped beneath the enormous domed ceiling a loud noise broke through the top of the building. She looked up and covered her face with her forearm to protect her eyes from large shards of falling glass. She saw a large dark blur surround Sgt. Gordon and pull him up to the roof.

“Sgt. Gordon!” She yelled after him. She knew immediately that the blur was that bastard Batman. A small laugh escaped her mouth as she shook her head and lowered her gun. A group of SWAT ran in seconds later. She pointed at the ceiling with her gun and called them over.

“He came down and took Sgt. Gordon!”

“Who?” Someone yelled at her and she shook her head, pretending to be unsure.

“I don’t know! I think it was Batman.” She yelled, adding to their panic.

“Batman!” Someone shouted and in the moment of distraction, she slipped away into a side corridor. She bolted towards a staircase and stopped at every floor, looking for signs of activity. Her body burned with soreness as she sprinted down each corridor. She wanted to scream his name but her lungs wouldn’t allow her the extra air to do so. She rounded a corner and ran into a group of police. They all started shouting at her until she showed them her badge.

“I’m a detective- What the hell is going on here?” She yelled.

“We’re looking for Dr. Crane!”

“Have you seen Sgt. Gordon?” She asked, panting and trying not to panic when they mentioned Crane’s name. “He disappeared and I've been looking for him.”

“No, we haven’t. We got a call that they found drugs in the building and then Batman showed up. Crane was running the operation.” One police officer responded and jerked their head to the side where they were going to run next. “It's down this corridor!”

“I’ll come with you,” she shouted and led the unit, her gun pointed at the ground. Two large doors were falling off their hinges further down the hallway. The room itself was smokey and gaseous. She looked down from the doorway where there were stairs leading into a cement lined room like an empty indoor pool. Tables were littered with Crane’s fear serum and men that she assumed were dead. Huge vats of liquid marked with a toxic symbol sat on their sides by an open waterline.

“This is it,” she said to the officer beside her and started to descend the staircase. The smoke made it hard to see so she moved slowly, looking around the floor for Crane’s familiar face. The men she saw were all part of Falcone’s posse who had been hired to help the drug operation run. Something snapped beneath her food and she looked down, seeing Crane’s scarecrow mask which she recognized from his drawing. She picked it up and looked around anxiously, her fingers around the gun shook. Then she saw him. Crane was propped up against a wall and bleeding slightly from the head, a thin trail of blood oozed on the wall behind his head. He was panting and flailing around, his pupils were mere penpoints. He’d been attacked with his own fear powder. She looked around before dropping into a crouch beside him. He recognized her but continued to shake, his eyes darting around her head.

“Jonathan,” she whispered, “it's me.”

“Did you find him?” Someone shouted and she yelled back that she had. He raised a judgemental eyebrow, his mouth forming a cuss word. His glasses were gone.

“Trust me, Crane.” She whispered against his ear and held his wrists together. She took her handcuffs from her belt and handcuffed him.

She leaned against the wall and tapped her foot anxiously as they strapped him into a white straightjacket. She crossed the room and helped the officer secure the last belt, thankful for any excuse to touch him and remind him that she was still there. Looking up at her, he spat and she flinched slightly. His light eyes were ringed with red swollen skin and she wondered if he really felt betrayed by her. She wiped his spit from her cheek and returned to her place by the wall.

“So this is the scarecrow,” Sgt. Gordon entered the room and let the door slam shut. Crane jumped from the noise and closed his eyes, taking a deep shaky breath.

“Scarecrow… scarecrow.” Crane whispered with his eyes closed and shifted within the straightjacket. Sgt. Gordon pulled up a chair, the metal scraping against the floor, bristling Crane into opening his eyes.

“What was the plan, Crane? How were you going to get the toxin into the air?” Gordon asked calmly and fingered the scarecrow mask. Her stomach turned watching Crane struggle to regain control over his mind. He shook and his eyes darted around the room, landing once or twice on her. She kept a straight face, giving no sign that she was terrified that something would happen to him or she would accidentally reveal something about him that they didn’t already know. When Crane didn’t respond, Gordon continued, his voice rising.

“Who were you working for?” Gordon pressed and Crane’s eyes snapped to his, a crazy smile pulling at his lips.

“Oh, it’s too late. You can’t stop it now.” He spoke through shivers, cutting up his words. He smiled at the end and Gordon shook his head. He stood and shoved the mask into her hands.

“Here. Stay with Crane.” He growled and left the room, his footsteps echoing through the heavy steel door. She looked down at the mask in her hands and hid her smile. There was only one officer left in the room with them and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to come up with a quick plan.

“Are there any officers outside?” She asked the cop by the door who peeked his head outside the door.

“No, ma’am.”

“Good,” she smiled and raised her gun when the door snapped behind him. “Then this should be easy.” She cocked the gun and cornered the officer. “Face the wall,” she ordered and when he turned, she hit him over the head with the butt of her pistol, knocking him unconscious. She quickly handcuffed him and checked outside one last time before running over to Crane. He was still recovering from the toxin, his face set in a deep frown. She began to free him from his restraints, glancing at the door every few seconds. His eyes stayed on her face and he kept muttering things below his breath. When she undid the last restraint he jumped up and it fell from around his shoulders to the floor. She started to smile when he lunged at her and pushed her up against the tiled wall. Her hair clip cracked against the tile and clattered to the floor in pieces. She gasped beneath his hands, one holding her throat and the other grabbing the slack in her sweater, exposing her navel.

“You betrayed me,” he growled, “you told Gordon... I saw you.” His eyes were wild and glazed, he looked right through her.

“What?” she gasped out though his hand was crushing her windpipe.

“I saw you two! You fucked him. You fucked him!” He yelled, his body shook with anger like he was coming down from an adrenaline high.

“No, I didn’t!” She struggled beneath his hands, “this is the toxin talking, Jonathan! I didn’t betray you-”

“But you fucked him,” his voice twisted into a heatbreaking whine, an image flicked before his eyes and he closed them quickly, shaking it from his head.

“No!” She coughed and she could feel herself getting light-headed.

“You love him,” his voice was breaking beneath him and his eyes darted between hers as the toxin showed him more and more; everything of which included her.

“Jonathan!” she screamed and hit his chest hard with closed fists, “I can’t fucking breathe!”

His eyes snapped open wider and he released his grip around her throat. Her feet landed on the ground and she coughed, sinking into a crouch against the wall. Crane stepped back and watched her silently. He was still shaking as he ran a hand anxiously through his hair.

“Why would I save you if I loved him?” She cried in frustration, rubbing her bruised throat. “It’s the toxin, Jonathan… I didn’t do the things you think I did,” her voice softened. She looked up at him and stood slowly, grabbing onto the wall for support. Crane cradled his head in his hands and whimpered.

“What do you see?” she asked quietly and stepped closer. He shook his head and created more distance between them. “Jonathan, tell me.” She pressed and he exhaled with a soft shutter.

“You… fuck,” he started through heavy breaths, working himself up again. “I see you and Gordon…” He rubbed his eyes and looked back up at her. “It’s been so long since…”

“Since what?” She furrowed her brow, questioning. His eyes darted away into the corner and he shook.

“Since my father last used it…” he took a deep breath and finished his sentence with a lengthy exhale, “on me.”

“The fear toxin?” She whispered, slowly starting to understand what he was suggesting. He nodded and flinched as if something had attacked him. Was he saying that his father used a prototype of the fear toxin on him? She grabbed onto the sleeve of his suit jacket and tugged his attention away.

“It’s just me. There’s no one else- nothing else in here except for me,” she gestured to the nearly empty room (the officer was still unconscious in the corner). “And I’m here for you,” she whispered and closed the distance between them, her hands slipped around his small waist beneath his suit jacket. She felt his body tense beneath her embrace before slowly (very slowly) releasing its tension. He didn’t hug her back but rested his forehead on her shoulder. She stroked his hair, and found the shallow wound on the back of his head. She ducked her head as she pulled away, finding his mouth and kissing him gently. The toxin was slowly wearing off and she could tell he was only beginning to return to his normal self.

“We need to get up to my office,” he muttered and looked at the door. “They’re releasing the patients.”

“What?” She furrowed her brow. Crane sighed and shook his head.

“Ra’s gave orders to open all of the cells. The patients will be let loose into the city.” He licked his lips and looked down at her. “We need to get upstairs.” His expression was tense as she could tell he was trying to fight the lingering effects of the toxin. She nodded.

“Show me where to go.”

He pulled her through the door and they ran down the corridor to an elevator. When the doors opened, Crane used his key to override the system, preventing anyone else from calling the elevator. He pressed the button for the floor with his office, not realizing that his other hand was squeezing tightly around hers. When the doors opened again, they rushed down the hallway and into Crane’s office. He sighed when the door was locked and the blinds closed.

“What are we going to do?” She asked him quietly and he inhaled slowly.

“I need to inject you with the antidote so the toxin doesn’t affect you when we leave the building.” He murmured, more to himself.

“We’re going out there?” She tried to keep the fear from her voice but he detected it instantly, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you scared?” He asked automatically.

“Of both of us dying out there at the hands of one of your old patients, yes, yes I am.” She nearly laughed.

“Don’t you want to be part of the fun?” The Jonathan Crane she knew was definitely coming back.

“I’d rather not become the ‘fun’,” she quipped and he smirked.

“As you wish.”

She followed him into his lab and he rummaged through a collection of vials arranged on one of the counters. Finding the right one, he slipped it inside a cartridge of what looked like an epipen.

“Pull down your pants,” he ordered and then it was her turn to raise her eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that and do what I tell you,” he said sternly and she did as he asked, pulling down her trousers where he had access to her thigh. “This will hurt,” he warned her before immediately plunging the needle into the fat around her thigh. She hissed in pain and heaved out a breath.

“The good news is that you don’t have to ever do this again,” he patted her leg and buttoned her pants for her. “Now me,” he changed the vial and unbuckled his pants. He raised the hem of his boxers and punctured the needle into his upper thigh. He grunted in pain and closed his eyes for a moment and whistled out a tight breath. A large explosion shook the ground below their feet. She jumped and winced as she landed on her sore leg. Without opening his eyes, Crane nodded.

“And that would be the patients leaving the building now.” He withdrew the needle and tossed it to the side, buckling his pants.

“Let me see your head,” she touched his arm and he leaned forward slightly, turning his head where she could see it clearly. She carded her fingers through his dark hair and parted the dark roots away from the shallow wound. “It's a small cut, you’ll live.”

“Thanks, doctor.” He smirked. Her fingers shifted through his hair as he straightened and she tried not to look disappointed when they were no longer twirled around his black locks.

“Are you back now?” She looked up into his eyes, looking for trances of fear.

“I think so,” he responded and traced his index finger around the collar of her sweater. There were small bruises where his fingers had been when he forced her against the wall in his state of panic. “Was I terrible?” He whispered.

“Not more than usual,” she laughed lightly and covered his hand with hers. “I’m ok.” She insisted and he furrowed his eyebrows and licked his lips.

He was going to apologize, he was going to tell her how much he loved her and that was why he had reacted so strongly to the toxin, but the words died on his lips so instead he said, “We should leave before the city goes all the way under.”

“They’ll raise the bridges so no one can leave, it’s too late.”

Crane chuckled and leaned against the lab table behind him, his fingers grasping around the edge. “And once again, you severely underestimate me. Come on.”

“Get on,” Crane held the bridle and gestured for her to mount the large black steed.

“You’re kidding right?” She looked around at the burning city and then back to the police horse who’d lost its rider.

“I wish I was,” he sighed and tugged her closer by her waistband, “now giddy-up, Miss —.” He joked flatley and pushed her up onto the saddle. He hoisted himself up after her and sat in front, taking the reins in his hands. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed her thighs around the horse's stomach, holding on for dear life.

“Where the hell did you learn to ride a horse?” She yelled over the panic and she felt him chuckle.

“Oh, there are a lot of things that you don’t know about me, detective.” He smirked and kicked the horse into action. She gasped and held him tighter as they flew through the violence-strewn streets. She couldn’t imagine how ridiculous they looked to the people of Gotham but under the influence of the fear toxin, she hoped people were more afraid than amused seeing a man in a full suit riding a horse. Crane focused on the route ahead, navigating them through the broken city.

“Where’s Ra’s?” She yelled into his ear.

“Forget about him.” He growled and urged the horse faster.

“Why? What happened?”

“He tricked me. He didn't just want to impose an arguably better government, he wanted to kill everyone and to kill us too. He tipped off Batman and that’s how Batman found me. He didn't need me after the toxin had been released. He kept you away from me, didn’t he?” He called over his shoulder, leaping over a crashed car.

“Yes, he told me to go to the precinct instead when I tried to warn you about the DA.”

“He wanted Batman to find me and he assumed that you’d get stuck here after you followed Gordon. Two birds with one stone. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” He growled and turned the horse onto a side-street and into an alley.

“Where are we going?” She asked, her grip tightening around Crane as she saw people screaming in the streets.

“To my father’s house.”

“How?” His father’s house? After his father had probably done something horrible to him?

“Just hold on,” he warned and flicked the reins again. She closed her eyes, wanting to block out the terror in the streets. While some of it gave her pleasure to see the raw side of humanity express itself, it reminded her of what she had seen as a child- the side of people that came out when they needed to survive.

They rode to the edge of the city and Crane slowed the horse to a stop beside a tall building that looked abandoned. He hopped off of the horse and helped her down, catching her as she forced herself to slip over the saddle. The building was far enough away from the inner-city that it looked like it hadn’t been touched yet by the chaos, though the toxins had definitely reached it.

“We need to get to the roof,” he informed her calmly and pointed her to the elevator.

“Another elevator…” she whispered beneath her breath, knowing it wasn’t the right time to mention how much she hated the idea of going into one when the world around them was ending. Crane pressed the button labeled “20R,” and the elevator began to soar up. The elevator had windows that opened into the city. As the elevator climbed, they could see the destruction of Gotham and right across the bridge, normalcy.

“Ra’s is moving the micro-wave emitter by the high speed rail. If his plan goes accordingly, the emitter will poison the other side of the city beneath Wayne tower.” He pointed out the tall Wayne building from their vantage point. “I hate Gotham and I hate Batman, but I think I hate Ra’s Al Ghul more.” He sneered distastefully. “We could have run Gotham…” he sighed and shrugged, “maybe another day.”

She couldn’t help herself but laugh. Being with Crane had opened her eyes to a new side of herself, one that was dark and masochistic. She liked this side better, way better. She liked thinking that one day she could be in charge, force out all of the government officials that were too dumb or sexist to listen to her. She could lead beside Crane…

When the elevator doors opened a gust of wind met them. The doors opened onto the roof of the huge building. A helicopter stood in the center of a large bull’s eye, its blades running in circles above their heads. Crane’s hair ruffled in the wind and he squinted his eyes against it. Her mouth fell open in shock and Crane chuckled at her reaction.

“That’s the funny thing about, trust, detective. I don’t believe in it,” he smirked and beckoned her to the helicopter’s doors.

“You planned this?” She yelled as he gestured her to climb onto the landing gear.

“Of course,” he smiled, "I always have a backup plan." Her mary janes slipped across the bars as she climbed and Crane supported her back, guiding her back into the body of the machine. He pulled himself inside after her and collapsed in one of the seats. She tried to orient herself, looking around the small helicopter, landing on the pilot. The pilot nodded at Crane, he was wearing a thick mask and goggles to keep the toxin away.

“Ready doctor?” The pilot called from the front and Crane nodded breathlessly. He looked at her and clenched his jaw, returning to the version of Crane she knew so well.

“Yes.”

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