#one does not simply leave the rooftop

[peachesofteal]

Can we please please please get some more Simon x single mother au? Possibly him helping in the garden/ keeping emmaline out of trouble while Mom works in the garden

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild sexual content

“Ow! fuck!”

Your hand jerks, drawing back to your mouth with a hiss. 

“What is it?” He forces himself still, staring daggers at where the tip of your finger has started to leak blood, a thick drop dripping down the side before you bring it to your mouth, lush lips wrapping around your injury. “Are you alright?” His tone is tightly controlled, even keeled, nonchalant, but on the inside, worry gnaws away at his stomach, chewing through the organ until it’s spilling free and running rampant through his body. 

“There’s a piece of glass in here.” In the garden bed? “Some of the other tenants, hang around up here at night. They usually leave bottles or cans behind.” The worry turns to anger, a simple plan slowly taking shape in his mind, a strategy to find the rooftop partiers, and ensure they never leave glass in your garden again. 

Emmaline cries, nose and brows wrinkled in irritation, and you turn to coo at her, finger still half in your mouth. 

“It’s okay, little pea. Just give me a second.” She continues to fuss, and you sigh, wilting like one of your own little flowers, left too long in the sun without water. You blink, and it’s like you’ve shed your sunlit skin for an exhausted shell. Oh, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore. 

I’m here now. 

“Can I?” He asks softly, warming at how your face lights with relief. 

“Yes, please.” You point to the bottle that’s tucked in the side of the backpack, and he unbuckles her from the bouncer that you lugged up the four flights of stairs earlier, even though he had texted you an hour before and politely suggested you wait for him to be finished his phone call, so he could help you. 

You went up anyway, much to his displeasure. Displeasure, that he had to swallow, permanently. 

You’re not his. Not yet. He can’t be disappointed by resistance or refusal when you don’t even know all the ways he can be there for you yet. He knows you’ll learn. You’re a smart girl. His smart girl. 

Emmaline lays nestled in the crook of his elbow, slightly elevated on her back, and he pops the cap of the bottle easily, rubbing his index finger against her cheek to trigger the reflex that will open her mouth. When it does, he keeps it at the right angle to ensure the formula doesn’t flow too fast into her belly. 

“You’ve done this before.” You murmur, reaching into the backpack for a band aid. You’re studying him, tracing over his face, his hands that are nearly the size of your baby, and he can feel the scrutiny, the curious intensity of your gaze. 

“Had a nephew. I was around a lot, when he was this age.” He had a brother too. And a mother. A sister-in-law. A family. 

Emmaline gurgles around the nipple, and he slips it free, sitting her mostly upright, giving her a gentle pat on the back amid her protestations, little grunts that he’s sure she means as ‘feed me’ and ‘more’. He waits for you to ask him the dreaded questions, the focus on the word had, the inevitable conversation about loss and family and pain, guilt and grief that can make a man feel like he’s been buried alive. 

You don’t.

Instead, you simply say, 

“Emmaline had a dad once, too.” 

It’s nearly 2100 when you knock on his door later, baby monitor in one hand, two amber colored bottles in another. 

“Hey. You busy?” His heart does a double tap inside his chest. Bad timing, the worst. Your sweet mouth is slightly open, hopeful, teeth parted just barely to reveal a flash of tongue, and his jaw clenches against the wild need that catapults through his veins to his cock. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? You motion to the monitor. “Just went down. Figure I have about an hour before I pass out myself and could use some adult time.” Shit. The duffel bag next to the door practically speaks for him, irritatingly reminding him he has a plane to catch in less than two hours. 

“I can’t, I’m about to head out.” Your brow furrows, confusion churning into understanding within a moment, disappointment flickering across your expression before it smooths out. 

“Right. Okay.” 

“I want to.” He hurries the words. “But I travel… for work and I have to be on a flight in a few hours.” You’re already half turning away, slinking off to your apartment, giving him a soft agreement as you go. 

“Sure, yeah.” 

“Wait, sweetheart,” You startle at the pet name, eyes going wide at the inferred affection. “when I get back, let’s… have a drink.” You nod, and he smiles a real smile, barely tugging his lips upward, probably hardly visible to you. The kind of smile he’s been wearing around you these past two weeks, the kind of smile he tries to give Emmaline when she stares at him. 

“Alright, sounds good then.” Your key finds your lock, and he steps out into the hallway, trapping your gaze with his own. 

“You girls be good.” He says, a parting instruction, and a bashful, bewildered smile of your own curves across your mouth. 

“We will.”

[eevees-hobbies]

ume devours pussy like he's been starved for days on end (he couldn't see you for a few days) and bonus points if you're actually a plaything for furin , so he'll do a pussy inspection first >-< - 💌 anon <3

Author’s Note: Hi, 💌 Anon! Welcome back 💕 I Just realized that I didn’t mention Sakura in this entire piece, and my heart hurts because of it, lol. Anyway, I’m snatching my bonus points thank you very much! I love the idea of being used by Bofurin; like sign me the fuck up! Trains go choo choo! Lastly, please don't clock me for the name of this little fic haha. I realized I don't have a banner with just Ume, and I was like, "might as well!"

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Hajime Umemiya. You’re Bofurin’s girlfriend to be shared and loved by all, mention of sexual activities with others, fem! receiving oral, mentions of eating ass, but I spared you THIS time, some dirty talk, pubic hair mention, sorry to the two Nirei fuckers out there, I’m sure he eats pussy like a champ—Tis smut. Minors Don’t Interact. 

Word Count: 1.9K

Divider by Saradika. Banner by me

One qualification for a good leader is being unselfish, and Umemiya embodies that virtue perfectly. 

When he took on the role of leader of Bofurin, he knew that it would involve quite a bit of sharing that had the potential to test anyone’s patience. But as though it’s his calling—and it most definitely is—Umemiya willingly shares wisdom with those ready to receive it and, most importantly, shares his most limited resource: his time. He’s never had a problem giving away so much of himself for so little in return. 

It wasn’t until Bofurin had gotten back from winning an intense match-up with a rival group across town, and you all were celebrating on the rooftop with food and beer, that the obvious occurred to him. 

As he watched over the joyous faces of his crew, he found himself studying you, like he always does, as you interacted with Hiragi, whose eyes looked over your form hungrily after you placed a piece of Gyoza against his lips and the tip of your finger touched his tongue.

He watched when you went to speak to Kiryu, who pulled you into his lap playfully and planted a kiss on your cheek, his hands resting under the curve of your breasts. 

And he watched as you crossed the space to turn up the pop-punk music crooning from the stereo. Suo reached out to you unprompted and tucked a stray hair behind your ear, his hand lingering for a beat too long to be considered innocent. 

It became abundantly clear to Ume that he would be doing a massive disservice to his team if he didn’t share you, too.

You thought he was suggesting an open relationship when he approached you with the idea. Your thoughts were in flux immediately. Was he unhappy? Was there someone else? Your heart sunk into your stomach at the idea and the hurtful implications of such an arrangement, but Umemiya simply shook his head.

“I have no intention of offering myself to anyone but you.” 

Admittedly, your new role as the official Bofurin Girlfriend had you just as busy as Umemiya. You weren’t only a sexual toy for them. You were Nirei’s first date, Suo’s confidant, Tsubakino’s shopping buddy, and Kaji’s and Hiragi’s third wheel at metal shows. You felt so lucky to be surrounded by so much love—and dick. But all those excursions—and dick—kept you insanely booked, to the point that you had to develop a shared calendar with your boy toys to not overlap on dates!

So it’s not to anyone's surprise that there are days when you and Umemiya don’t cross paths. You exchange texts frequently, asking how the other is doing and sharing inside jokes with cute gifs and memes, but the absence hurts and leaves you aching for him. And maybe it was also Umemiya’s intention to busy you with the boys because he knew he couldn’t give you as much time as you deserved, but it didn’t hurt any less. 

But fret not; on rare occasions, your schedules align.

You can feel him before you see him, an overwhelming presence that makes the air dense and clotted with an insurmountable pressure. You look up to the door, and just as your intuition hinted, he strides into the room where you all commonly loiter as a group—members strewn across the worn-out couch and others talking amongst each other immediately straighten and hush. 

Umemiya’s well-kept hair is slightly messy, with a few strands dangling in front of his face, and his eyes are smoldering as they scan across the faces in the room, searching until they land on you.

As soon as your eyes meet, the air feels as though it’s coursing with electricity—sexual tension threatening to boil over and scorch anyone who gets in your path. It doesn’t take long for everyone to get the hint to vacate quickly, knowing that you two are set on a collision course that they wouldn’t be able to stop even if they wanted to.

“Ume," you start but are unable to finish as he crosses the room. His heavy steps are the only thing that prepares you as his lips crash onto yours. As he kisses you, hands placed on either side of your cheeks, he breathes you in. His chest expands against yours, and you’re reminded at that moment how much you’ve missed him—missed this. You both wonder silently, but somehow aloud with your bodies, how you could go so long without the other.

And when you’ve been apart for so long, you don’t have time for pleasantries. Ume is walking you backward until your ass is pushed against the back of the couch, which previously housed Bofurin members, the indentations of their bodies still fresh in the cushions.

He smiles at you—one that you recognize because it isn’t his usual giddy grin; instead, it’s a smile that conveys, “I can’t help what I’m about to do to you.” 

Ume gently grips your elbow and spins you around. As he bends you over, you’re now painfully aware of the feeling of a breeze as he hikes up your dress and his fingers pinch at the exposed flesh of your ass.

“No underwear?”

“Suo doesn’t like it when I wear panties. He says it’s a hassle.”

Umemiya hums to himself in response to this interesting tidbit. He kneels, placing two giant hands on your cheeks, and spreads you down the middle. If anyone else were in the room, they’d be able to see everything, from your juicy, wet cunt to your winking, puckered asshole, and the fact that Umemiya can see everything makes you gush.

“My pretty girl is already so wet,” Umemiya muses, eyeing your pretty hole as it drools for him. You blush, knowing he’s not referring to you but having a conversation with your pussy instead.  

“Have you been a good girl for the boys?” His mouth leaves hot kisses and gentle nips along the curve of your ass, tongue darting out and leaving a trail of saliva across the expanse of your smooth flesh. You stiffen, wondering if his tongue will dip into somewhere more lewd—and Ume considers it, but he’s on a mission with one goal in mind; he’ll devour your asshole another time. 

“Y-yeah, Ume. I’ve been a good girl for them.”

His finger traces your entrance, spreading your freely-flowing juices onto your cunt’s lips. His eyes take you in with pride as you clench around the air simply because his finger is so close to being inside of you. He smiles at the physical way you show how much you crave him.

“For who in particular?”

“My god, Ume! Always with the questions!” You squirm under his touch. You know he isn’t being an intentional tease, but the line of questioning still feels invasive. How do you tell your boyfriend that Hiragi’s cock was breaking you in by noon, and Kiryu had you sucking him off under the table while he tapped away at this phone screen only a couple of hours ago? 

“Why are you shy all of a sudden? Here, I can check.”

Your thighs quiver as he slides two fingers inside of you without warning. You attempt to adjust, but his probing fingers are sweeping so deeply inside of you that you have to dig your nails into the soft fabric of the couch to keep yourself from reaching back and grabbing his wrist. 

“Sugishita, huh? I can tell.”

Oh, yeah. Sugishita, too. 

You cringe as his fingers pass over your clit, making you hiss and recall that you woke up to a particular someone’s head buried between your legs.

“And Nirei, too? Did it feel good when he sucked on your clit? That’s his favorite thing, right? Sucking at your cute little clit until you cum down his throat.”

You huff and wiggle against his hand, growing restless from being exposed like this and against his eyes with no release. 

“Does his tongue feel better than mine?” There’s no jealousy in his tone—just curiosity and a hint of ego because he knows the answer before you can say it.

You give him a quick head shake and mouth the word “No,” earning a smirk. 

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

He’s teasing you, and not saying what he hears means the unfortunate consequence of not having his mouth on you. 

“Your tongue feels better than Nirei’s, Ume.”

“Good girl.” And without further comment, and to your delight, Ume places a kiss against the back of your mound, soft pubic hair tickling his lips.

You don’t like to compare sexual experiences; every Bofurin member brings their own “talents” to the bedroom, but Umemiya has to be your favorite. He touches you with such fondness and devotion that it sets you on fire. Your head falls forward, and your shoulders slump as his tongue makes gentle work of your clit, as if to apologize on behalf of Nirei for making you sore.

“Did you miss me, Ume?”

“More than you could ever imagine. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you—done this—that I was starting to get restless.”

Umemiya’s words ring true. He feasts upon you as though what you have between your thighs is the only meal that can satiate his immense hunger. The way he rubs his nose against your sex, chuckling as you whimper against him, “Needy girl. What am I going to do with you?”

Umemiya’s tongue splits you open, his tongue solid and firm as it explores your cunt, his hands are placed on either side of your ass, with his face flush against your skin to leave as little space between you as possible. 

The way his hot breath fills you up and the way he moans with every lick makes your head spin. Ume and pussy-eating are synonymous. Eating you out is like breathing in air for him, and the way he’s pushing you forward, your stomach digging into the back of the couch from the exertion, is a clear indicator that he’s just as into it as you are. 

“You taste like heaven, baby girl.” Soft, gentle praises float through the air as he laps at you. Between hungry slurps and moans, your legs begin to tremble. If you weren’t holding yourself up against the fortitude of the couch, you’d surely collapse against Umemiya’s face. 

“This isn’t too much for you, right, baby? I’m so hungry; let me have a little more of your pretty pussy.”

It doesn’t matter what you say; Umemiya is set on devouring you regardless of your ability to stand.

“Grind back on my face, sweet girl. I want you to fuck my tongue.” 

And as someone who isn’t in the business of disappointing her king, you use what little energy you have by pushing yourself off the couch and grinding your pussy on Ume’s outstretched tongue. 

He goads you on with each bounce, and in between the soft, wet, smacking sounds from the collision your ass makes with his face, you can barely make out what he’s chanting. 

As you look back at him, curving your midsection to get as best of a view as one can in a bent over, ass-up position, you’re met with the intense, unapologetic, “dare you to look away” gaze of Umemiya’s over the top of your cheeks. 

Direct eye contact during cunnilingus is an unsung hero, and Ume remains the champion. Your walls clench around his tongue, squeezing the muscle as your pussy juices cascade into his mouth and down his chin. 

And despite the way you quake around him, Ume lets you ride it out on his tongue before pulling away and unbuckling his pants.

“God, I’ve missed ya.”

[biolumien]

hello!! I loved your rooftop smoke fic so much oh my goodness could I ask for literally anything hoshina I would love to read more of your works... It would make my day if hoshina fell first/if he was the one hopelessly in love but anything that is easier to write for you I would love to read

ALSO PLS FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS IF ITS NOT EXACTLY IT FOR U!!! TYSM IN ADVANCE

notes: bwahhhh omg… thank you for liking my first work…  i havent written hoshina before… but uh. i hope this is good. same reader-insert from last time for this one too!

hoshina falls first (or tries not to, because to love is to be known)

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader i turned it into kind of a character study, forgive me word count: 1103

let’s get this right off the bat, to clear any misconceptions. hoshina’s not a romantic. he doesn’t fall for anyone first. he’s built up the demeanor of a sly, wily little fox not because he wanted to, but because he had to. tread lightly around others, and they will never know what lies in your heart, the insecurities that bubble and eat at you alive. never let them know how you feel, because as soon as your inherent, weak-willed intent is shown, you’ll be devoured alive.

well.

that’s what hoshina tells himself, anyway. 

it’s what he has to remind himself of constantly when he sees you.

you’re not allowed, he reminds himself, to get under his skin. not in any mean way, not in the way where you play up his insecurities–except you do, don’t you? you don’t mean to, but he gets the impression that if he were conventionally stronger, more impressive, that he’d deserve your attention, the small smile that crosses your lips and lights up your eyes when you see him, the faint exhale of breath when you see him–he’d deserve that if he were better. if he were just simply better, he’d deserve it. he’d feel worthy of it.

hoshina’s not a romantic.

he signed up for a line of very dangerous, practically suicidal work knowing it might mean the death of him.

all to prove that he was worth something.

he’s not the ashes you throw away, he’s a brilliant ball of fire, can’t you see–but he needed to prove that he could shine alone, under his own merit. he didn’t need anyone, except he needed mina to get him into the third division anyway. 

he didn’t need you, except he kept making excuses to get close to you, and not even in any particular suave way. hoshina practically pines for your affections and attention, but the key thing about it is that he refuses, in a way that’s either very cute or insanely frustrating, to make it seem like he’s making the first move. fleeting kisses he shared with you, he never properly initiated himself–he’d stand there, make a big show of leaving, and you’d pulled him by the collar to kiss him. 

but at the very least you seem to be accommodating about it, in any case. you sometimes end up preparing him a cup of tea when you go on break, as if instinctually expecting him.

hoshina wonders if he’s pavlov’s dog in this case–drawn by you, trained to behave around you.

he doesn’t know how he feels about it.

“you keep coming here,” you say to him one day in the lab. at your desk is a wide variety of papers–notes on chemical formulas for bullets, the blueprints for one of mina’s new absurdly-large guns shoved haphazardly under a stack of notebooks, a coffee cup clasped between your hands, and you blow some of the fresh steam off. “i’m starting to think the captain’s going to find you slacking off.”

there’s a sardonic smile on your lips, but hoshina’s gotten better at reading you. you’re happy to see him–he can see it in the tiny way you fidget a little bit when he takes the spare coffee mug from your desk, finding it full of coffee already. does he feel his face softening, his drawn-up shoulders relaxing? no, surely not. he’s better than that. he won’t be influenced by you–and yet. and yet. 

“you have a lock on your door if you don’t want to be disturbed,” hoshina says simply, taking a sip of the coffee. black with a single spoonful of sugar in it, because as much as it was impressive to drink your coffee purely black, hoshina quite frankly couldn’t take it. and he’d built as much a complex around that, too, as if a simple coffee preference might define how worthy he is of love. respect. the works. he watches you, sees dark under-eyes from days of restless work and the writer’s bump on your middle finger, and feels his heart squeeze.

god, he hates it. does he? does he hate it? is he insecure about that? does he hate that he doesn’t hate it? does he hate that by pining for you, by forcing his way into your life, that he’s created the rumblings of his own downfall? no. the worst part of it all is that he can’t hate you. can’t hate the way you watch him, and he wonders if you’re watching him the same way he observes you–like a prey animal, almost, twitchy and nervous, in an attempt to grasp at feeble understanding. 

“if you keep coming back here, i’m going to assume you’re in love with me,” you say.

and you have no idea what those words do to him, really. you don’t know, because hoshina has learned to obscure most of his emotions, at the very least. 

so why does his face feel so hot?

“hm.”

he can’t even come up with a proper retort. you’re staring at him expectantly, as if waiting for the classic hoshina quip–a cackle or giggle, a casual slap on the table with a you wish! attached to it. but it doesn’t come. hoshina stands there, gagged for a moment–and suddenly his grip on his coffee cup feels a little weak.

“hoshina.”

he wishes the smile on your lips didn’t trigger some gut instinct of delight in him.

he’s better than this, damn it. he’s better than this.

your smile quirks up the corners of your cheeks, and there’s something like a shy flush across your skin. and–

“i wish i could take a picture of your face right now,” you say. “you look like you’re coming down with something.”

hoshina scoffs, the sound a little more high-pitched than he’d like for it to be.

“you wish,” he says. 

“so are you?” you press. “in love with me?”

hoshina stares at you–there’s a sudden tightness in your shoulders that wasn’t there before–you’re worried about his answer. and despite it all–his bravado, his hatred of the mere idea that he might rely on someone else–that he would ever need someone to know his heart, that he might be cowed and tamed like a dog–

he loves you.

he doesn’t want you to be worried about the surety of his answer.

“yeah,” he says. “i love you.” and when that sudden tightness in your body language disappears, he finally finds the strength to quip, “just don’t faint over me, alright?” 

and when you reach out to hit his shoulder, he grasps you by the wrist and pulls you in to kiss you.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 14

Tim was the best thing to ever happen to Danny.

He didn't mean that just because how much of a sappy romantic he was to Tim, but because he literally saved him from his own mind.

Danny was never going to leave Amity Park so long as the portal was open.

The portal would always remain open between his parents practically treating it like thier third child and thier ability to simply make another if anything would have happened to that one. Not to mention the super creep named Vlad.

So Danny would have stayed in Amity forever, cleaning up after his parents and being miserable.

Or ya know. Until they managed to kill him.

But then Tim came into his life and fixed everything. He befriended Danny over nightime rooftop rendezvous and groaning at his dumb (read awesome) puns.

As they got closer Sam and Tucker seemed to get both anxious and angry. Were they jealous? What right did they have after the Gregor incident?! Its true that they'd both been to busy to hand out with Danny for the past few weeks, leaving Danny with only Tim to turn to for company.

Tim pointed out that they may feel threatened knowing someone else knows his secret and Danny couldn't help but agree.

Tim pointed out that Danny was going to be stuck here cleaning up after his parent the rest of his life if he didn't find a way to stop the portal. Danny had nearly broke down at that and admitted he didn't know what else to do, so Tim devised a plan with that big beautiful brain of his.

They created a machine that ran on ectoplasm and magic that could wipe information from both technology and the human brain. They could remove all traces of ghosts ever existing in this town and erase 20 years of knowledge and research from Vlad and the Fentons minds, but it would come at a cost as magic usually does.

They would have to forget Danny existed as well. Tim offered that they could run away together.

Danny decided that was okay. The only person he had left in this town who had cared about him was Jazz and she was better off without him there to get her hurt.

Tim also had a plan to strip Vlad of his powers as well as his knowledge, and Danny was looking forward to not having to deal with him anymore

It was the day after everything went down, Tim was driving the GAV while Danny flew in the Ops Centers Jet form. They had made sure to swipe everything they could from the labs as well as everything the thought they needed to travel to Tims home dimension.

Danny had promised to help Tim uncover the secrets of his past and who he really was and to do that they essentially planned to travel around the Earth being wandering criminals.

Between Tims intellect and Dannys powers they were undefeated and unnoticed. They stole whatever they wanted and did whatever they pleased, making sure no one had to get hurt unless there was no other options.

Of course they stole cash from bank vaults as well as whatever else was in there. They couldn't stop Phantom from entering since anti-meta tech didn't affect him and couldnt track Phantom due to him being whatever he was plus the collar Tim had helped Danny design that covered up his ecto-signature.

They lived like this for over a year, breaking in to abandoned places, having waterfights in large city waterfountains (and running when they heard police sirens), tagging some of the places they'd hit when they wanted to leave a message, long romantic walks at night, lots of laughter, going on dates to restaurants (they never dine & dash. Some places make the wait staff pay which is bull and they might want to return to that establishment at some point), that one time they stole a $900 wedding cake from a homophobic bakery owner, lots of Fake out-Make outs to avoid getting sent to jail, ect.

They were having the time of thier lives up until they stopped in a little 24 hour diner in Bludhaven. They were doing what they usually do, flirting and laughing until the waiter takes thier order, when a guy approached thier table. Tim and Danny exchanged worried looks before the guy held up his hands in mock surrender, "I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise, I'm Dick Grayson." The man held out his hand to Tim, who hesitated before shaking it, "Tim," he answered honestly.

Danny nudged him with his foot under the table.

The man smiled wide, "Like Tim Drake?"

Tim and Danny looked confused, "Like who?" Danny asked and Dicks smile faltered

[salem-witch-slut]

These Trembling Hands(18+)

Sevika X Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Since Silco died, you hadn't seen Sevika after months of her visits nonstop. When she finally comes back to the brothel, you couldn't help but notice one thing... She looked so, so tired.

WARNINGS: Descriptions of past sex (very minor), breast fondling (also pretty minor), only rated 18+ because dirty things were mentioned. Pretty tame overall. Brief mentions of SA of a minor (TRIGGER WARNING)

WORD COUNT: 4K (EXACTLY OMGGG)

A/N: This is a sequel fic to my Prostitution kinktober prompt. I loved it too much to hang it out to dry. And damn, you guys are eating that fic up. Over 1K notes in 2 days. Bunch of whores, the lot of ya!

DIVIDERS MADE BY @cafekitsune

You had heard rumors of Silco being killed, but that was all you heard of it. You could see from your shitty home terrace deep in the underground of the Undercity. People were scared, things were chaos, and the gangs were at war with each other. Without their leader, the Zaunites were rogue and killed whoever they saw fit. Luckily for you, you weren’t exactly a target as a brothel employee. 

It was more valuable to keep you alive, and everybody knew you were loyal to one Zaunite in particular that even after everything, she’s still as powerful as ever. Still a force to be reckoned with, but does not act unless prompted to. 

Sevika hadn’t been back to see you since Silco’s confirmed death. You simply assumed she had far too much work to do as the leader of keeping the peace between the gangs. Which was insane, because peace talks were never her job.

You hated to admit it… Oh, fuck that, you would scream it from the rooftops. You missed Sevika so bad. You missed her touch like it was what kept you alive. She saw you nearly every single week before Silco’s death and now the only way you know she’s alive is from the whispers on the streets. 

Every day you would come in and hope for her presence, but you were never lucky. You never got to see her handsome face and your body begged for an actual release, or that cool metal from her cybernetic arm. You loved the chills you got from the sharp talon like fingers raking over your rear and leaving marks in your skin. 

God, you missed her. You missed her husky voice, how she held you when you came on her fingers, how she encouraged you to bite her, the praise she gave, mixed with degradation… You were addicted to Sevika, and it was embarrassing. 

The entire staff knew about your obsession with her. She once left a handkerchief of hers in your room after she used it to wipe the sweat from her face and you kept it. Oddly enough, it smelled just like her and you simply enjoyed having it in your presence. Sevika made you feel wanted. Was that so wrong to love?

You kept it with you all the time. You had it in your pocket even as you walked into work that day. 

It was just like any other morning as you entered through the backdoors and got set up in your assigned room that you had, over time, personalized to fit your personality. You had a thing for dark candles and burning herbs that had been known to have relaxing properties. It made your life much, much easier and Babette encouraged it so you wouldn’t need to call out of work once again for your bruised cervix. 

You chewed on your thumbnail as you sat yourself down, prepared to get dressed in your signature outfit of dark colors that the clientele loved, when the curtain pulled back to your room without warning. Your entire body went rigid as you looked up, and your breath got caught in your throat. 

She came back! You tried to not let your excitement show as you stood up from your seat, cursing at your frumpy outfit. Baggy sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt that kept you warm in the dark underground city. Your hair was a mess and you hadn’t done your makeup yet but she barely even blinked as she stood in the doorway. 

“S-Sevika, I–” You stuttered, looking at the cloak on her shoulder and then up to her face… Oh, she looked so, so tired. Her eyes had dark circles under them, partially bloodshot and her cheek was cracked, evidence from the overuse of shimmer from her cybernetic arm. She had a fading bruise on her brow, and healing cuts over her neck and near her cheeks. “Sevika?” 

The tall woman finally made eye contact with you and you watched her toss off her cape and throw it to the floor. You noticed her arm was missing, and there was a frayed wire sticking out of the socket. It looked like it was ripped out of the mechanics on her shoulder as she slowly approached you and made you stumble backwards until your legs smacked into the bed. 

Sevika watched you fall onto the bed, your face turning pink as she let out a long, big sigh and got down on her knees. For a second, you thought she was going to eat you out… But then you simply felt her head rest on your thighs and her arm wrap around your waist. 

“Sevika, are you–”

“I’m tired,” She said, her voice wavering and cracking. You could smell the alcohol on her body and you could feel your heart almost breaking for her. “I’m so… so tired…”

“Oh honey,” You cooed softly, your hands reaching up and gently rubbing at her scalp. The crime lord visibly relaxed, feeling you remove the hair tie from her brown strands as you slid it on your wrist and raked your fingernails over her head. “You must be just exhausted… You’ve been doing everything out there.” 

“Shit never stops,” Sevika pushed her nose into your thigh. “It’s always something… Someone is always getting killed, and I have to fix it. I used to be the one with the blood on my hands, and now I’m cleaning it off someone else’s.” 

“I know,” You said, combing your fingers through her hair. “You’re the best at what you do.”

“What I did,” Sevika scoffed. “Doesn’t matter now… It’s just me holding it together.” 

Words seem to fail you as you simply rubbed at the back of her neck, one hand sliding from her hair and down the back of her shirt, nails crossing over her skin and making the muscular woman shiver in your hold. This was completely different from what you two had grown used to. 

Normally, Sevika would be making you scream at this point. She would stretch you on her fingers and praise you as you pulled on her hair and called out her name like it was the last thing you would ever say. But now? Sevika was too exhausted to do anything… Why was she here then? Why not at her home, sleeping?

You sat there with her for almost ten minutes, simply playing with her hair and rubbing her back. After a while, you could feel her breathing get a bit heavier and you frowned, looking down and seeing how she was almost asleep in your lap. 

“Sevika,” You said gently, feeling her hand flex in your shirt as she looked up and then visibly relaxed at seeing your face. You smiled sweetly before scooting back on the bed and removing your sweatshirt. You flopped backwards in your plain white tank top before patting the space next to you. “Come here.”

“Y-You know, this isn’t what I pay for,” Sevika stuttered, her ears going pink for a second. You had never heard her stutter before! It was adorable. You simply rolled your eyes and reached out with both hands, undoing the fasteners on her shirt. The woman’s breath hitched as she went tense for a second, her hand reaching for your wrist out of instinct. “What are you–”

“Just relax,” You spoke softly, reaching up and sliding the shirt from her body down onto the floor. Underneath was a simple black stained shirt with tears near the collar. You scooted back once again and patted the mattress. “How long did you pay for this time?”

Sevika hesitated as she sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching down and undoing the buckles of her boots. “All day?” 

You chuckled, rolling your eyes and wrapping your arms around her waist. Sevika looked down, used to being able to reach down with her cybernetic arm but now it was simply phantom feelings. 

In seconds, you two were crawling into bed as Sevika immediately wrapped her arm around your waist and pushed her head against your soft chest, basking in your warmth and listening to your heartbeat. 

If there’s one thing you didn’t expect from today, it was this. You were expecting another hard, rough day with no rest and no breaks between clientele, but this was a very, very pleasant surprise. Your hands stayed put, rubbing at her back and holding her forearm that was draped across your middle. You could feel her breathing become more heavy, and you simply looked down before smiling.

She looked so peaceful… Her lips were parted slightly, the gap in her front teeth more prominent as she breathed heavily, a snore escaping her as she dug her fingers into your side. It was then that you realized something. Something that you definitely should have realized before after all these months with Sevika being your favorite client– No, favorite person.

You felt something for her. It went beyond simple affection or fascination with the woman. It was every time you saw her come in. You felt your heart skip a few beats and you were wrapped up in her arms almost immediately. Sometimes she stops by just for an hour, sometimes she’s here for almost four hours. But no matter how long, she never neglected your feelings. 

Sevika was a rough lover, but she was so good at taking care of you, even if her aftercare was slightly condescending. She would wipe you off while calling you a messy whore. She would wrap a blanket around your shoulders while gently slapping your cheek. She would laugh at you as you lay in the pile of pillows on the floor, but still managed to get you water if you asked nicely. 

And yet, even after all these months, there was one line you two had yet to cross, no matter how badly you wanted to. It felt too personal… A big jump between client and lover. Sevika couldn’t possibly see you like that. She pays for this. She has never attempted to see you outside of working hours, and you were sure she could easily find you. Not like you went anywhere outside of work and home and the occasional food stop. 

The thoughts plagued your mind as you watched her sleep on your chest, seeing her lips move as she mumbled something and pushed her face deeper into your tits. You raked your fingernails slowly over her back, being gentle enough to keep her sleeping, but not so light that it tickled and woke her up. You were fully content with being like this all day long. If she paid for an all day session, this would be more than enough to keep you happy. She didn’t even need to touch you to make you happy. Sevika being here was good enough for you.

As the time went by, you could feel your eyes growing heavy with every passing second. You wanted to close them so bad, but every moment with Sevika felt precious to you. You wanted to kiss her. You had never been able to do that before… you wanted to so badly, it was eating at your soul and making your heart race. Your stomach was filled with butterflies and part of you felt like you would throw up, but it was simply eating at you.

Would she push you away? Would she refuse to come back? Or worse, would she retaliate? It felt like Sevika liked you too beyond just a body to play with, but you weren’t sure… Well, asking was out of the question. You knew words would fail you and you would sit there stumbling on your sentences like a moron. This was your only option.

Very carefully, you slid down the mattress and felt her lift up her head so she could rest it on the pillow as you moved. Sevika made a face of disappointment as she opened her eyes and blinked a few times in order to readjust to the soft lighting of the room. From this close, you could see how the candles reflected off her irises and you could see the flecks of purple around the corner from when she would use shimmer. 

She stayed quiet, simply looking at you as you slowly reached down and grabbed at her hand. Her brows creased, seeing your slight distress and scooting herself slightly closer. Her body heat had your breath hitching. “What’s wrong, doll?” 

Fuck, that nickname made your heart flutter. It felt like a rabbit was kicking at your chest behind your ribs as your hand slid up the length of her arm. You could feel the muscles underneath flexing, almost like she was teasing you on purpose. Her body was solid muscle and all strength; with sharp edges and tough skin. You loved every single inch of her. 

“Sevika, I–” You tested your voice, and felt it crack like glass. Your face went pink as the smirk that did reside on her face slowly began to vanish. The silver irises glinted with confusion. She was genuinely concerned now as she saw, and felt your hand shaking as it slid up her arm and carefully rested on her cheek. 

“What are you doing?” Sevika asked, her voice barely above a whisper. You blinked slowly, biting your lip before scooting closer. 

A moment passed, and you simply couldn’t take it. “Screw it.” 

You grabbed the back of Sevika’s neck under her hair and pulled yourself upward, your lips finally connecting with hers. The woman went stiff, her entire body rigid against yours as her eyes widened and she made a noise of surprise. A noise you had never heard from her before. It made your legs press together as you refused to breathe until you separated from her. 

It scratched an itch deep in your brain that you didn’t know was eating at you. It felt like a hot shower after a cold day. It was like breathing after being underwater. It was everything you had expected… Minus Sevika not reciprocating… 

When you broke off from her lips, you saw that she was laying there in pure shock. Her eyes were wide and the hand on your hip twitched as you looked down, refusing to meet her eyes. You were worried now. She looked almost upset with you as you refused to meet her gaze, scared of the repercussions. 

“I’m sorry,” You said, close to sobbing. “I-I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to overstep and I was just– I don’t know what I was–”

Your words were cut off as Sevika gently tucked her knuckle under your chin and tilted your head back up to meet her eyes. And you saw her cheeks tinted a soft pink and her eyes were sparkling. And that was the last thing you saw before she was jolting forward and recapturing your lips like she couldn’t live without it. 

Instantly, your hands went around her neck and you pulled her close, drowning in everything that was the woman named Sevika. How intense she was with every aspect of her life and how she gave 100% with all her actions, and that included kissing. Her tongue gently teased at your lips and you responded with your own, pressing it against hers and slipping it passed her teeth. 

Sevika groaned, grabbing at your hip and pressing your entire body against hers, allowing you to feel how warm her skin felt on your own. It was like touching a livewire; you couldn’t break away even if you wanted. You couldn’t get enough, and you wanted more. So, so much more…

Your stomach twisted in your gut as you began sitting up off the bed and before you could stop yourself, your legs moved until you were sitting on Sevika’s hips, holding her down and breaking off from the kiss for a brief second. 

There was a look in her eyes, almost like she was challenging you. Her brows knitted together as she panted, her hand curling against the bedsheets and her chest rising with each harsh inhale she took. Dear fucking Gods, she was sculpted by deities you didn’t even know existed. Her taut abdomen sucked in with each breath and you saw the outline of her abs through the shirt riding up on her waist. 

Maybe someone else would have been put off with her only having one arm, but you didn’t care. It didn’t diminish her strength, and she could fair fine without it. Even with just a hand, she was able to break you and you would thank her. 

“Someone’s being bold today,” It was that same flirty condescending tone she used with you all of the time. You ate it up as your fingers traced down her chest, between the valley of her breasts before stopping to trace a few little patterns into the flesh showing below her shirt. You felt her abdomen tremble at your touch, and you smirked. “Get that smile off your face.” 

“I can’t help it,” You said, fingers twitching as you reached forward a little more and began sliding her shirt upward to expose her stomach and staring at her chiseled muscles in full view. Your breath hitched and you felt your toes curl up. “So perfect…” 

Sevika groaned, putting her hand over her face and covering her eyes. Almost like she was embarrassed of your words, but that would be silly. Sevika doesn’t get embarrassed. She isn’t capable of that. Is she? 

The veins almost popped in her forearm as she grabbed her face, feeling your soft, uncalloused fingers stroke along her ribs and slide up even more. You could feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second as you breathed hard, licking at your lips. This was a huge moment for both of you.

You had never seen Sevika without a shirt before. Never seen all of her and hardly ever got to touch her like this. You felt like you were in control. This was insane. 

“S-Stop me if it’s too much,” You said, voice wavering as you pushed the shirt up the rest of the way. Your insides damn near melted at seeing her breasts for the very first time. You had a feeling it was just as strong as the rest of her, but you didn’t have proof until now. And another suspicion you had? Yes, her nipples were pierced. You fucking knew it.

“You done?” Sevika snapped, looking down at you and narrowing her eyes. You blinked, not realizing just how long you were staring at her until she knocked you out of your stupor. “Not some sideshow attraction here, doll.” 

“Really?” You chuckled, reaching up and cupping her breasts with both hands. “Because I think I should be paying to see you.” Your fingers traced over her piercings and Sevika gasped, her body jerking towards your touch like she was desperate for it. 

Sevika was a vision. And you were desperate to see more. 

It wasn’t long until you were reaching down for her belt and unzipping her pants when she reached out with her hand and grabbed at both of your wrists. You immediately stopped, looking down at her and seeing the wild look in her eyes and how her body was almost on the offensive. 

“Wait,” She pleaded. Your heart broke. “Just… just wait, please, give me just a minute.” 

“Sevika,” You frowned, releasing her belt and scooting closer towards her. Something was off about this, and you just had to know what was going on. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.” 

“It’s just that… I just…” Her entire face fell as she sat up and dropped her head down. Her hair covered her face as you reached forward and pushed it away to look at her. “No one has done that before. I haven’t… let anyone touch me like this.” 

“Honey,” You cooed, leaning down and looking into her eyes. Sevika pressed her lips into a thin line and looked up through her lashes, the bruises under her eyes more prominent from this angle. “Talk to me.” 

The woman scowled. It was an internal battle for her to admit any of this, especially to you. Sevika knew how you saw her, and this was just crossing some kind of line in her mind. You saw her as a strong, unmovable force that could never be injured or taken down. You saw Sevika as a god, and she was about to shatter that illusion. 

“It was when I was a kid,” Sevika admitted. “I was a scrawny little shit, you know? A gutter rat… an easy target,” For a brief second, her eyes watered but she blinked it away. “I didn’t stand a chance back then.” 

There was a moment of confusion before the pieces clicked into place and you felt your entire body go rigid. You felt sadness, empathy, compassion… rage. Pure, blood-boiling rage as you pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. You couldn’t show your anger, but you wanted to hunt whoever it was down, and watch them bleed out slowly. How could anybody do that to her? To a child?

“I’m sorry, I–”

“Don’t,” Sevika looked away immediately, her lips curling into an almost snarl as she looked down at the sheets, trying to distance herself. You tried not to flinch as you scooted back in the bed and gave her space. “I don’t tell people shit for that reason. I don’t need pity. I don’t want it either.” 

“Okay,” You bit down on your lip, tucking your legs under your body and putting both hands on your thighs. Sevika noticed your sudden change of attitude and she stood up from the bed. Before you could ask what she was doing, she started pacing back and forth, rubbing at her jaw and trying to sort out her thoughts. You sat there silent, scared if you said a word that she would snap and the moment you two shared would be over. 

It was almost three whole minutes before she stopped pacing. You felt like you were trapped in a cage with a wild animal. So unpredictable and volatile, but just scared of what you could do to them and they feel the need to defend their existence. Your heart went out to her, and you wish you could take back your actions because now everything was shattered, just as you feared. 

“What the hell are we doing?” Sevika muttered into her hand. She turned to look at you and saw that you weren’t looking up at her, and almost like it was happening in slow motion, a tear slipped down and splattered onto your leg. You didn’t look up… until she said your name. Your real name, not a nickname or pet name. 

“Look,” Sevika said, sitting back down on the bed and reaching out to take your face in her hand. You leaned into her touch and held back a whimper. “This all got out of hand… Somewhere between us, the lines started blurring. Went beyond me paying to fuck you–”

“You’re not coming back,” You shivered. Sevika visibly recoiled at your words. “Are you? I ruined this, and now you won’t come back again.” 

“Hey now,” The woman immediately grabbed at your chin and forced you to look up. “Don’t put words in my mouth, doll. I never said that.”

You whimpered. “Then… What are you saying?” 

A gasp left you as she pressed her lips into yours once again and sighed, her hand tangling in your hair and rubbing at the back of your neck. It was just as fucking amazing as before and you were visibly upset when she broke off.

“I’ve got a reputation to keep up, you know? We just… have to keep this quiet, understand?”

“You mean,” You said. “Like a secret?” 

“See?” Sevika chuckled before kissing your cheek. “I knew you weren’t dumb, sweetheart.” 

[joi-me-hoi-me-noi]

Y/n with a extremely powerful cursed energy

Request from one of my friends who somehow found out about my writing obsession with different fandoms... thanks girl, you know too much now.

Gojo

"I really don't want to fight anyone. Please, stop."

He doesn't say anything, his feet moving his being toward you. He was only walking. He thinks you're weak.

"Please, stop. I-I really don't want to hurt you!" You saw what he did to Hanami, you wanted it to stop.

Geto wasn't there yet so you had to stop him. He's standing right in front of you now. He looks down at you with a frown and then sidesteps you, starting his walk past you.

"Wait!"

You reach forward and grab his arm; he slightly jumps at the contact. You breached infinity. How?

He pulls away from you and crosses his fingers in front of himself.

"Domain expansion..." He was going to kill you.

You hold one finger up as the domain started to expand around you.

"Void."

A black veil swallows up his domain...he's in shock how a weakling like yourself was able to disable everything. A single snap of your fingers and the void you created forms tightly around him, he would lose consciousness soon.

You feel his breathing stop and cease your void, now back at the train station. You approach his body, crouching down to make sure he's unconscious. You go to rise to your feet and his hand shoots out to grab your neck.

"Your cursed energy is quite impressive, sadly, it wasn't enough. Now you're going to die here."

"Satoru."

The guy turns his head, looking at Geto and dropping his hold on your neck in the process. You push his hand away, gasping for air and moving toward Geto. He opens the prison realm and watches the man get swallowed up into the small box.

A hand is placed on your head.

"After the rest of them, your duties aren't over."

★・・・・・・★

Choso

You heard the loud fighting from the bathroom nearby and immediately rushed in, finding a knocked out Yuuji and the person who hurt him.

"Jesus! Yuuji!"

You rush over to him, feeling a soft breath on your hand. You let out a sigh of relief as you turn your head to dodge the arrow coming your way.

"Interesting. You're the blood manipulation dude I heard about."

Another arrow shoots out of his clasped hands, but you simply touch the tip of it, watching it turn into a bloody puddle on the floor. He demeaner falters as he watches you.

"You better count your blessings and hope I don't hurt you that bad."

★・・・・・・★

Sukuna

You thought it was insane that some random kid found their way into a veil and swallowed the finger of Sukuna.

"Y/n, he just-" "Megumi, exit the veil. I got it."

He was about to talk you out of it but then complied with the request you made. Using his curses to help him get off the rooftop quicker. Sukuna turns to you, a crazy smile appearing on his face. His fingers swipe in front of him, obviously trying to cut you. Nothing happens.

He does it again and again, nothing happens.

"No matter how many times you try it, it's not going to work."

He, of course, continued to try to hurt you and then groaned in annoyance when it wasn't working.

You stand in front of him and quickly nullify Sukuna. You click your tongue and carry the boy out of the veil, seeing Megumi and Gojo. Did this man really go shopping?

"Satoru, we have a problem. This kid swallowed Sukuna's finger and now he is his vessel."

★・・・・・・★

TODO & ITADORI

You run in from around the corner, watching Mahito getting beat up. His body rolls in front of you and he looks up at you. You give him your hand and pull him up.

"Well, you look like shit."

"Shut up and handle these two for me."

"You know you're going to owe me for this right."

Mahito runs off and leaves you standing there with the two boys.

"Hi! I hope you two aren't as boring as the others." You stretch out your limbs and start running towards them.

Todo and Itadori runs toward you, trying to grab you, they both fail. You jump up, suppress Todo's energy and using your foot to kick him into the wall. Then you hold Itadori's punch, draining the energy from his body.

"Someone's getting sleepy."

A quick push and he falls over, still alive but asleep. Todo springs back into action, trying to restrain you in some way. Using the drain energy from Itadori, you deliver a hard punch into Todo's abdomen, sending him into the way and knocking him out cold.

"That fight was barely fun..."

★・・・・・・★

TOJI

He just sliced a deep cut on Geto's chest, leaving him in the rubble. When he's walking away from the body, Toji hears something stirring behind him. He quickly turns his head and points his gun at you.

"Y/-Y/n." Geto's hand reaches out shakily, trying to push you away from him.

"Shh... I'm here. Rest." His eyes close and you used your technique to send him back to Jujutsu High, someone will help him.

"I can't believe an old man, of all people, killed THE Satoru Gojo."

BANG!

You appear behind him, sitting on the rubble pile.

"Let me tell you, I'm not like Satoru and I don't die easily."

BANG!

Your hand is around the gun barrel, it starts to dissipate in your grasp. He lets go of the gun and moves away from you. A smile appears on your face and then you sigh.

"I won't get to fight you like I wanted to after all. He's awake now and ready for a rematch. Bye now."

With a quick wink, you disappear into thin air leaving him to walk out the same way he came.

★・・・・・・★

A/n: The way my creativity was working like a machine is fucking insane. My brain hurts and I'm going to bed...

[thewitchblue]

Death was her curse and her gift.

"Tim and I couldn't find out all of her abilities, but she's deadly both from a distance and up close."

Bruce told his children sternly. The Wraith was the newest vigilante and metahuman in Gotham. Her black bodysuit held concealments for her dual blades that release without a sound. She was as silent as a cat and as deadly as a hurricane.

"Avoid her at all costs. Until we find out more about her, she is a threat. Do not engage in a fight."

Bruce's voice was stern and worried. He hated having another masked vigilante running around in Gotham. He can't tell yet if she's a criminal or fighting on the side of good. Sure, she's been on their side so far, but that can change very quickly and very easily.

Unfortunately, his hunt proved fruitless. Every time he got close, it was like she melted into the shadows. She was gone before he said a single word. She did, however, wink at him before she vanished into the night. It was like she knew he wanted to question her, but she had no interest in talking while on patrol.

Jason, of course, didn't listen. He went out looking for her. If he stumbled across a criminal while on the hunt, he obviously took care of them, but his main focus was finding the phantom and questioning her himself.

After a particularly fruitless encounter, he found himself on top of a rooftop, sat down with his legs dangling off the ledge. This was becoming infuriating.

"Fuck! Why is it so hard to find her."

He curses, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. He's normally so good at tracking people down, but she's, well, a phantom. He's halfway convinced she's actually a ghost. How does someone just vanish into thin air like that? Does she hide in the shadows and simply walk away? Does she teleport? He couldn't be sure. How was he supposed to find someone who's untrackable? She leaves without a trace. No footsteps in the grime filled streets, no scent he can smell with his slightly heightened senses (he's no bloodhound but surely he'd smell something), even his trackers were removed nearly the second they are placed or straight up avoided entirely. It's like the shadows smack it away for her.

By the end of patrol, he's not happy in the slightest. He's sat outside the Batcave, not wanting to go home yet but not wanting to hang out with his family. His entire night was fruitless.

His head snaps up once he feels a hand on his shoulder. Before he could complain about it, assuming the hand was one of his family members, he stops himself. He notes the hand is much smaller than any of his siblings and certainly smaller than Bruce's massive hands. Then he feels it. A strong tug, almost as if he's been pulled towards a destination. Before he could even struggle, he finds himself in his apartment with a certain ghost vigilante sitting lazily on his favourite chair.

"I believe you have some questions for me, Big Red?"

Her voice was smooth, with a casual tone despite the very horrifying experience unfolding in front of him. He watches almost in awe as twin blades release from her suit silently with a flick of her wrist. She makes no move to threaten him, however. She merely cleans them with a nearby towel. Her eyes watched him with a calculated look as two shadowy hands disarm him with ease.

His brain finally catches up to his situation. He's disarmed, the vigilante knows both where he lives and where the Batcave is, and he has said vigilante on his chair with blades casually being cleaned.

"What do you know?"

Was the only question his dumbfounded brain could think of. What does he do in this situation? If she's a villain, she could've killed him, but if she was good, she wouldn't run away and avoid him.

"Everything, Jason."

Those two words nearly sends him into a panic. What counts as everything?

"Everything about me?"

He was almost hopeful. He desperately hoped she didn't know anything about his family. She lazily hung her legs off the arm of the chair, leaning back while still facing him.

"I know everything about everyone in your vigilante family. You became part of the family after nearly stealing the Batmobile wheels and you died because of the Joker. You've been revived, and honestly you've been through the wringer. Disowned for a moment, with mommy and double daddy issues. Your best friend is named Roy and you are about to have a secret girlfriend."

She said everything with confidence. She really did know everything. Then his brows furrow in confusion,

"Did you just ask me out after telling me my entire life story?"

He was equal parts flabbergasted and flattered. She was bold, that much he can tell. She swings her legs back to the front of the chair to face him normally. Calmly, she replied,

"That depends on what your answer to the question is."

He doesn't even know her name. He said,

"I don't know anything about you."

As if she could tell what he was thinking, she said,

"I'm Y/N. If you kiss me, I might let you take off my mask."

As silent as a tiger, she stalked towards him with a grin, her blades returning to her suit as smoothly as they came out to lower her threat level in his mind. Shadows swirl around her, almost clinging to her like an overprotective best friend. She really isn't here to threaten him. He knows she could skewer him like a kebab or sap away his life force, but he coyly asked,

"How am I going to kiss you through my helmet, punk?"

She smirked, pulling off his helmet in a shockingly gentle manner. He wraps his hands easily around her waist and pulls her closer. She was so close that he could smell her perfume and feel her body heat.

"Well, I am good at keeping secrets."

He said with a sly grin before kissing her. To hell with whatever the others think about their relationship. Sometimes, it's a good thing to take risks.

[henrycangelbaby]

In which: “It's not that the amount of love I had changed, but I feel so proud about it now, like that I want to shout from the rooftops and tell everyone of my loved ones how much I love my wife, MY wife, ya know?”

Or

An interview gives unique insight into Pedro Pascal and his vast amount of love for his wife

I make my way through meeting the cast of HBO's unexpected hit “The Last Of Us” rather easily.

Bella Ramsey lives in a far nicer apartment in London than anything I would have been able to afford at the same age. Despite their fame and talent, they remain settled and down to earth, dressed in an outfit a little too cool for me to understand and eager to show me around their lovely apartment that is decorated in a way that I quite liked but I'm sure my baby boomer father would find offensive. I even end up meeting Ramsey's girlfriend, a fellow actor (who I admittedly had never heard of) who is equally as young and pretty as Ramsey is. They are both lovely and down to earth, a sentiment I don't often find relatable working with celebrities.

Kaitlin Denver is in her late 20s and still looks like she could be in high school. She lives in a shared house with her sister, whom she also shares a music career with. Despite the controversy surrounding her character in the show, she seems to remain completely unfazed by the backlash and threats that surround Abby Anderson. Denver merley shrugs when I ask her how she deals with it, leaving me to assume her vices when it comes to dealing with unprecedented hate.

I meet other stars of the show too. Gabriel Luna has all the southern charm of Tommy Miller and more, making me question whether he really does any acting when playing the sweeter, younger Texan brother. Isabela Merced is very beautiful in person and is also far shorter than I had imagined. What she lacks in height she makes up for in personality and charm.

Of course, when you think of the stars of The Last Of Us, there is probably someone else that comes to mind. Securing an interview with Pedro Pascal is probably one of the harder things I have had to do in recent years. It's not that Pacal is hard to come by; in fact, in recent years we haven't been able to escape him. I originally doubted that I would even be able to secure an interview with the internet's "daddy." Pascal has had a busy few years, and this one is no different. With multiple projects coming out this year, including the new season of The Last Of Us and his highly anticipated entry into the MCU as the iconic Richard Reed, it seems that everyone wants a piece of him. While all the other actors on this list do have notable careers outside of the show, the point of this interview series was to be able to interview the main cast members of the show in anticipation for the new season; however, I found that same sentiment hard to carry across when interviewing Pascal. I don't want to spoil the show for anyone, but I will just say that he won't be back next season. Whether that's due to internal conflicts or simply being too booked, we’ll never know.

I was rather ecstatic to receive a phone call from someone on his team letting me know the time and date for our interview. Like normal, I'm given an NDA to sign before receiving any personal information, such as his address (which I did require for the purpose of the interview). But everything else seems to go off without a hitch. 

I was admittedly nervous to meet him. In the best way possible, his reputation definitely proceeds him. Pascal is only ever described as kind, loving, funny, and any other positive synonyms for a massive sweetheart that you can think of. I personally have been a big fan of his work since he played forever thirsted over narcos agent Javier Paner. I know they say you shouldn't meet your idols (and trust me, I've had my fair share of heartbreaking realizations that someone I once admired is actually a piece of shit), but I had high hopes for meeting Pedro. And I am happy to report that it did not disappoint. 

I arrived at his home in Los Angeles ten minutes earlier than I should have. Not that I'm kept waiting, as before I can get a second knock in on the door, a young woman flings it open, smiling at me tightly. She quickly lets me in, introducing herself as Pascal's assistant, offering me tea or coffee, and ushering me to sit down on the comfy-looking couch while I wait for her boss to arrive (which she insists should not be too long). I take a moment to look around the room while I'm waiting. The room is sweet and welcoming, much like the rest of the home, which feels very well... homely (like stepping into your best friend's house and chatting with their parents at the dinner table). It's a hard feeling to describe, such a sense of nostalgia from a place that I had never been in before. It feels fitting though that a man so beloved as Pedro Pascal should have a home that feels so nice. I snoop to get a closer look at the photos that hang up on the walls and sit on cabinets. Most of them seem normal. There are a few faces I recognize within the photos; Oscar Iscac can be spotted alongside a younger-looking Pascal in one of the photos on the wall. I spot John Favro amongst a few people in a photo that looks to have been taken on the set of The Mandelorian, but apart from that, the photos seem normal. They depict family and friends in various places over various years; it appears that Pascal cherishes his relationships with loved ones above all else. 

I'm stopped in my snooping by another face in one of the photos, a face I recognize instantly, a face that has been all over the internet and tabloids for some time now. Pedro's wife. The photo is the first one in which she features prominently, sitting alongside what I can only assume to be one of her husband's sisters. It's a sweet photo, one that I can imagine Pedro was on the other side of, grinning wildly while taking. Y/N Pascal is an elusive figure that the media and her husband's fans have been trying to know better for a few years now. She is what is best described as a "normie," that is to say that she is just like you and me; that is perhaps what makes her so interesting to fans. She doesn't appear to have any ties to the industry; she isn't some big-wig producer's daughter; in fact, despite their insistence, fans have been unable to find anything on her. She has no public social media accounts, no company profiles online, and no one she went to high school with has come forward with a tik tok horror story (yet!). The couple are shrouded in mystery; no one seems to know how they met, where Y/N is from, or even the highly shrouded question of her age. She certainly appears younger than Pascal by a good few years, and I'm sure that I could find thousands of posts online speculating (or being downright nasty) about how young she is. But out of respect for the happy couple, I leave it a mystery. 

The sharp heels of the sensible shoes that Pascal's assistant is wearing suddenly come back into earshot. She warns me to be ready with my stuff as “they” will be home soon. I don't think twice about her words before hauling ass back to the couch and trying to pull myself together. It's not long before I hear the front door open. Amy (Pascal's assistant that I had only just remembered the name of) runs to the door. I walk slower behind awkwardly, not wanting to intrude (despite the fact that I had spent the last ten minutes snooping around what was essentially a stranger's house). I peek round the corner to be greeted with Pascal's broad back. He is facing away from me, talking to his assistant lowly. His assistant finishes speaking and moves past me, wishing me luck in passing. Pascal doesn't turn around to greet me yet; in fact, he drops down onto one knee to reveal to my utmost shock his wife. Neither of them pay me any mind as he begins untying her shoes for her, ever the gentleman everyone believes he is. 

It's not a second later that the man of the hour turns around to greet me. He smiles widely at me, and I find myself blushing slightly at his unwavering eye contact as he introduces himself. He only introduces himself by his first name, not something I find often when meeting famous people; they are often eager to give me the name that everyone knows and loves them by. It seems a bit of a strange phenomenon in Hollywood that has missed Pascal. His wife then steps forward to introduce herself. I hate to be the bearer of bad news to the millions of jealous fans, but Y/N Pascal is strikingly beautiful; even as I meet her in her own home with no makeup, she glows ethereally with a striking smile that looks like it belongs on the cover of a magazine. In that moment meeting her I quickly see why Pascal holds her in such admiration.

Much to my disappointment, that is the first and last time I see her during the interview. Pedro ushers her away somewhere out of sight with a protective arm around her shoulder. I can hear him mutter to her lowly, promising to be quick. Before kissing her goodbye with an "I love you." It makes my heart ache with a longing. Much like the rest of the internet, I wish I had a man like Pedro Pascal. We chat for a while, while exploring his house, he speaks passionately about his career, which he clearly loves. He has a flame behind his eyes as he speaks about his long-winded love for the cinema. He tells me stories of his famous friends that are featured on his walls. We laugh together, and he very much reminds me of an old friend. Even though I should be interviewing him, I let him talk, rambling on about things that I didn't find important enough to put in this interview, but they certainly put a smile on my face. 

The house is beautiful; it's decorated nicely and feels authentic and homely. It's not massive, not overly obnoxious in the way many celebrity houses are; it's still big, the kind of size that screams loving family. I don't mean to make assumptions, but it almost feels like it's been brought with the idea of a growing family in mind. I complement the house easily. Pedro smiles at me. For the first time in the interview, he refers to his wife. He tells me that he hadn't cared where they lived; “anywhere is home when you are with someone that you love,” but insists that she had loved the house the moment they first saw it. "She has better taste than me,” he tells me with a loving glint in his eye. "She did a good job.” I compliment, he nods and smiles, "always thought I was biased 'cause I’m married to her, but glad to know it's not just me." I feel awfully privileged to get an insight into Pedro's fondness of his wife. It's not often that he speaks about her publicly; she gets mentioned in passing during interviews and is often spotted at events with him, safely away from the cameras, but it's clear to the general public that his marriage is a part of his life that he wishes to keep away from public scrutiny. 

Its towards the end of the interview that I do ask him about his marriage. We walk past a wedding photo that depicts him and his lovely bride squashed together on one seat, smiling widely at the camera. He doesn't say anything when he notices me peering at the photo. I ask him carefully if he thinks being a married man has changed him. He ponders for a second. "Probably,” he answers me carefully. It's not the response I had expected from him, so I quickly encourage him to go on. "I suppose it has in a way,” he continues. “It's not that the amount of love I had changed, but I feel so proud about it now, like that I want to shout from the rooftops and tell everyone of my loved ones how much I love my wife, MY wife, ya know?” I smile and nod at his explanation. I understand what he is saying—such a sweet sentiment that it makes my heart warm. 

We don't speak for much longer after that; he briefly mentions a few upcoming projects, which he seems excited for. I ask him what he has planned next, after his next few big projects are done. He hesitates for a second. “Truthfully,” he says, “I plan on taking a step away for a bit.” I ask if he wants to settle down more. “Yeah, that's part of it; I mean, I’m not getting any younger.” He tells me, “Things are changing soon, and I just want to be settled with my family.” He finishes. I wonder for a moment what he is referring to when he mentions these soon changes; I don't ponder on it too long; much like a crazed fan, I have a few theories floating around in my head. 

We wrap up the interview from there; he is as polite and gracious as he has been the entire time, shaking my hand and thanking me for my time. I try to thank him for the interview and for letting me into his house, but he simply shakes his head at me, insisting it was his pleasure. He disappears soon after that, saying he has something to attend to (and speed walking in the direction that his wife disappeared to). I'm left to see myself out; I don’t snoop too much after I’m left alone. I make my way back to the front of the house, peering around as I go. I peek inside one room that appears to be in the middle of some kind of renovation or do-over. There are multiple pieces of yet-to-be put together furniture on the ground as the walls look to be in the middle of being painted a pastel purple color. 

I’m about to leave when something catches my eye—on the table by the front door, which has various bits and bobs scattered over it, but none of these catch my eye. I step closer to get a clearer view of what appears to be a small black and white photo. I quickly realize what it is: tucked beneath the wallet I had seen Pedro place down before our interview began is an ultrasound. I smile knowingly as my theory is proven correct; the Pascal family is about to be adding another member. 

Congratulations to Pedro as his wife on the upcoming addition to their family.

[cheesus-doodles]

i wonder how izana is like if he had a s/o during the time when he was the black dragon leader

Red Dragonflies Masterlist | Masterlist

‎‎‎

i have actually answered this previously in these Relationship HCs ! and this is also the case in my red dragonflies AU, former gang leader reader is actually Izzy's s/o when he was the black dragon leader - have linked the masterlist up top cough

but because I like to rant, here are some more thoughts about yan black dragon-era Izzy and you, which can apply to both regular reader and gang leader reader!

Izana was probably already very unstable and jealous during his time as the 8th Gen Black Dragon leader, what with the entire situation between Shinichiro constantly talking about Mikey, and learning that the Black Dragon gang would go to said boy instead of him. Combined that with him having found you as an s/o, someone that Izana would see as his, something that he could finally own and keep to himself without having to share (unlike the whole situation with Shinichiro), no doubt that it wouldn't take long for Izana to swing into yandere tendencies, becoming extremely overbearing and overprotective over you.

‎

With you around, there is a very clear difference in Izana's mannerisms and general behavior. Almost a personality flip in fact, it's night and day how he acts in your presence and when you aren't present. After all, there's a certain way that Izana wants you to perceive him as, and then there's everything else - so this white-haired boy would be sure to carefully tailor and adjust how he acts around you to what he knows you like (to a certain degree of course). As long as you don't threaten the status quo, as long as you keep by his side and his side only, your precious Izzy is whoever you want him to be. Loving, kind, doting, he can almost seem to read your mind and predict your moods.

Knows how to make you feel better after a shitty day, knows what to say and what to do to get you falling heads over heels for him over and over. But don't let that fool you into thinking that you were beyond his manipulation, because nope, not a chance. If he even has the slightest doubt that you were drifting away from him, or worse, thinking of leaving him, expect for Izzy to start subtly tearing you down. He wouldn't sound any different from what he usually does, cooing, low, soft murmur, but the things that slip from his mouth; it pokes at your insecurities, stirs the doubts you have about yourself. Yes, you were the most beautiful person he had laid eyes on, but did you think that really extended to everyone? Surely, surely you know that only he can love you like this? You couldn't possibly survive away from his side the way you are, right?

In his mind, Izzy is only doing it because he loved you as much as he did - you were made for him, like he was made for you. He couldn't live without you, so even if he had to hurt you a little, it'll all be worth it. You'll see that it was all for you.

‎‎

Wouldn't be uncommon to see him roaring down streets, both city and mountain ones alike, on his motorbike with you clung to his back and with no specific destination in mind - just likes to spend time with you, brings you anywhere that you want to go. Besides, the delinquents in the city, be they Black Dragons or rival scum, know better than to stare at the two of you. Loves light, airy places, so be prepared to spend a lot of time just hanging out together on rooftops and mountains, somewhere where you can feel the breeze through your hair, where Izzy can get you all to himself. All your attention being on him is the best kind of date.

There's no such thing as privacy, period. He absolutely needs to know everything that happens in your life, and anything less would earn you a full tantrum and fit. Put simply, its either Izana is there, hovering next to you and keeping one violet eye on all your ongoings, and no doubt this baby boy has someone (cough Inupi cough) tagging you from a respectable distance when he isn't free. That is, on top of having unfettered access to everything on your phone; call logs, messages, photos. Nothing is secret from him, why would it be? What do you have to hide from your partner?

You don't go anywhere new without Izzy. Why do you have to? What were you hiding? Your future husband would be happy to take you anywhere you have to go: cafe, the new department store downtown, even festivals. So unless you were trying to hide something from him, why wouldn't you want him to go along? Don't you know how dangerous it is out there? What if you get jumped by a rival gang? Needless to say, keeping presents a secret from this boy isn't a walk in a park.

‎‎

Everything else that Izana doesn't think you would approve of seeing would be done out of your sight. He doesn't like having you see the darker side of your boyfriend, the one that deals with weapons and drugs, the one that beats people, both civilians and his own gang members alike for the mildest of perceived infringements against you. You were too soft, too delicate for that. What if you got scared off? What would he do if you became frightened of him?

Instead, all his rage, all his hatred, he poured into the Black Dragon gang, leading them down darker and darker paths. The entire world was scum as far as he was concerned, trash that he had to beat and flatten into perfection so you didn't have to foul your hands and feet.

Sure Izana couldn't keep Shinichiro to himself as much as he desperately wanted to, the first time he truly found family - the source of a lot of his anger and jealousy. He hated Mikey, and always will, for stealing his older brother. But you were perfection, divinity, and you filled the hole in his heart; you didn't have to see that side of him if you just stuck by his side and returned his love. You were the only thing giving stability to a very fragile Izzy, and god only knows what would happen to him if that stability ever left. Izana would give you the sun and the moon if you wanted them both, all he asked for in return was your loyalty.

[chrlvctius]

clandestine meetings

Alexia putellas x williamson reader!!

It was late afternoon, probably around 5 p.m., and the sun was setting. It was October, the fall season. The air smelled like leaves, almost like pumpkin. I was so focused on people walking down from the rooftop that I didn't notice someone joining me.

I didn't have to turn to see who it was since I knew who it was right away. Just by her hair, her height, and the vibes she radiates. I couldn't be wrong, I knew it was her. Memorising those small details about her makes me hate her because I can't seem to get over her.

She moved closer to me, leaving a small distance between us. She took out a cigarette, lit it, and went on about her business while I was at a loss for what to do beside her. I don't think starting a conversation with her would help either, so I just stood quietly, admiring the view and watching the sun set as the wind blew through my hair.

There's something about that comfortable silence. We didn't have to say anything to one other or anything like that. Or, if we did talk. We didn't have to worry about running out of topics or being awkward since simply being with her in silence is plenty; her presence is enough. Being together felt like home; it made us feel complete.

Leaning over the rail, I turned my head to check on her, and she was as lovely as ever. She was always beautiful. She was the first person who caught my attention when I moved to Barcelona. I've kept an eye on her ever since.

She continued smoking and admiring the view, while I got lost staring at her. She sighed and smiled, "You know I can see you staring, right?" she asked, turning to face me.

I couldn't think of anything to say so I just chuckled and shrugged it off.

She turned to face me, tossed her cigarette in the trash can, and moved closer to me.

"Why did you stop smoking?" I asked as she approached me.

"I don't want you to smell like smoke, plus i don't think you like it when people smoke near you" she went on to say

"That's very thoughtful of you, ale," I comment, laughing at her.

She was taken aback for a moment because she had never heard me call her by her nickname. It was my first time addressing her as such. I usually refer to her as "alexia" or "cap"

She paused for a bit before clearing her throat, "Is your sister okay?"

she said, seeming nervous

She seems to have gathered up enough courage to ask that question. Leah and Alexia weren't on the best of terms, so hearing her ask this makes my heart melt.

"She'll be fine; I'll be back home once the breaks come," I reassured her.

"I know she was against you going to Barcelona," she said as she drew closer to me than she had ever been.

"Um, yeah. She was," I answered nervously, hoping to keep it hidden because she was closer than ever right now.

"I'm pretty sure you know why she didn't want you to come here, right?" she asked, with a slight smirk on her face. She was clearly having a good time.

"Of course," I answer, trying to cover up my nervousness. Having her so near to me makes my knees shaky, like jello. Her stares make my knees wobble.

"She didn't want me coming here because she'll be alone, and we've never been separated this long, it'll be new to her, to me as well," I reply, looking wherever I can to avoid facing her because I know it'll be a dead end for me if I do.

"Come on, that's not all of it, isn't it?" she nudged me

"I'm not blind, I know the main reason why williamson doesn't want you to come here is because of me" she said with that annoying smirk on her face that I desperately wanted to erase

I just nodded and tucked my lips because she got it right

"What does she say about me? I bet she told you I was bad influence" she said and laughed

“You should surely take your older sister's advice, don't you think?"

"Like the good girl you are," she said, smirking.

We fell silent and let the breeze wash over us.

She drew nearer as I walked toward the doorway, placing both of her arms on either side of the rail to enclose me.

"Do you think I'm a bad influence? Do you agree with your sister?"

I look at her and see her eyes piercing at me, green with a tint of brown, she looked breathtaking. I felt like I could drown in her eyes.

"I don't think you are," I responded, swallowing hard.

"I'm your sister's rival, and yet you still stick with me?"

"I don't think you'd like it if I ignored you, though," I muttered, glancing down because just looking at her makes me want to pass out.

She tilted her head in such a way that it gave me butterflies. Lord, when will this end?

"Why so?" she inquired, completely teasing me.

"Would you like me to ignore you for the entire season, ale?" I said back.

She pouted at me, seeming to think about what she was about to say.

"Hmm, no. It would make me sad," she teased, smiling.

"Sad, why?" I inquired, still smiling.

"Because if I were to ignore you, that would make your sister feel relieved that I'm not circling you. I want her to be mad at me and for her to feel annoyed because it makes me happy." She grinned and moved closer to me.

"You're really messed up in the head, ale," I joke, pushing more against the rail because if I don't, you know what would happen.

"I want her to be annoyed, I want her to be angry at me, I want her to feel all the emotions," she said as she locked her gaze on mine. Her eyes seemed to want to express more, as if there was more to what she said.

"Which is why i won't be leaving you"

She whispered and stared at me for what seemed like hours. She was just staring at me, as if she was trying to memorise my face. I felt very vulnerable.

"Is that the only reason you don't want me to ignore you?" I asked, leaning closer to accept her challenge.

"Do you think there's something more?" she replied, edging closer to me until our faces were almost touching.

"I know there is"

I'm so sorry for leaving u w a cliffhanger 😭😭 i promise you there is a part 2! THERE WILL BE A PART 2 👹👹

Dm me if u wanna know some bits of the next part 😎

[sashi-ya]

𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑫𝑺 ⛈ [chapter 1: introduction] 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭! 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐅! 𝐂𝐄𝐎! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

⇝ Interactive fic format welcome to the first chapter! as mentioned previously this will be an interactive fic! how does it work? by the end of every chapter you will find a poll section where you will be able to vote for what's coming in the next chapter! what will reader do? what will be the consequences? have fun! ⇝ tw: the story is set to be an awakening for reader. you will find topics as loneliness, hints of depression and suicidal tendencies. be specially careful if this topics are triggering for you. there is no smut in this chapter, but it will be in the following ones. ⇝ don't forget to vote at the end of every chapter! ⇝ masterlist

Nobody, never, told you no. And nobody, ever, will. Miss Independent. Miss Successful. The Boss.

“I don’t care about a stupid storm, get me a damn ticket NOW” you order. The sound of your voice echoes against the many glass windows of your rooftop office. You don’t mind, nor care for your safety… all you have in your life is your job. Biggest enterprise that leads many markets and won’t ever stop growing. At least not on your watch.  

Your hills click harder against the cold marble of the floor, a tuft of hair gets curled around your finger, the insides of your mouth are heavily bitten. Nobody, however, knows you can get anxious. And nobody should, either.

“The… the airport is closed, Miss” your assistant, Usopp, informs.

Your eyes are glued to the blurred image of the city. You can see almost all of it from your position. And it’s that, exactly, what money and power makes you feel; like you are above them all.

“Then get the jet” you venously spit, as if your assistant was stupid enough not to think of that already. “I don’t give a fuck if it’s closed, we are taking off from the vineyard runway”

You notice your secretary nervously trying to find any type of words that could stop you from doing such stupidity, but he finally gives up and simply says “yes, boss...”

He walks away, already with his phone in his hands. He needs to call the private pilot on a Thursday night, with a cyclone outside, just because you couldn’t wait.

The tuft you’ve been playing with around your finger is now behind your ear. You tucked it. As always, your hand did it. Your long red nails did. Loneliness never made you less successful; in fact, quite the opposite.

Through the glass wall, covered in uncountable raindrops, your blurred vision finally fixes into the many buildings around. All of them, so late in the evening, begin to show candid lights throughout them. Families that join and play together. Lonely people hugging their pets. Couples dancing and kissing, or even looking through their windows. None of them, but you, show a single silhouette tonight.

“Boss, I’m- I…” your assistant breaks your bubble of hate and self-awareness. “The pilot says he is not flying tonight. It’s too dangerous” he excuses himself. In fact, his head bowed down exposes how mortified he is by not being able to accomplish your orders.

You turn around and massage your temple. There is a very important meeting you need to attend tomorrow morning. You can’t wait.

“Put Doffy on the line and leave me alone” you straight and coldly say.

He nods, leaving immediately, closing the heavy doors behind him. Not even five seconds after, the sound of your phone announces  Mr. Donquixote is waiting on the line.

“My sweet (Name), to what do I owe the pleasure of your call? Are you feeling lonely tonight? You can come home whenever you can” the excentric billionaire, who you sometimes fuck with, sings through the phone.

“I need your private pilot. Now. Flying my jet from the vineyards” you say, not much information is given. He probably understands.

He laughs. Extremely loudly.

“No pilot will take you anywhere tonight but let me see if my nephew wants to risk his life. The kid wants to die often, and apparently you too” he keeps laughing while telling you such terrible statement.

“I need a pilot, not a kid Doflamingo” “He is, indeed, a pilot. Give me twenty minutes, I’ll send it to your vineyard. But you owe me one… you know exactly those lips are my weakness”

Done. Problem fixed. You always know who to call when you need something; you know nobody really cares about your wellbeing but only the things they could get in return if you owe them something.

A carry on is always packed with essential stuff on your office; many are the times you spend travelling compared to those you spend at your own house. You grab it along with your coat and your keys.  You don’t wait for your chauffer; you don’t want to hear blabbering about safety.

“It’s just rain. What’s gonna happen? Am I getting my stilettos wet? So what?”

There isn’t much traffic, the many lights are indeed going the opposite way to yours. Everybody seems to be returning home, while you are driving straight to the outside of the city. Your vineyards aren’t that far but are certainly on a much rural zone.

Thunder roar in the open sky, the darkest night seems to be only illuminated by the power of those flashing lights inside growing grey towers of fluff.

“Bet is gonna be a very fun flight ~” you hum, as you imagine the little powerful plane crossing the menacing clouds ahead.

It takes you little time to arrive to your destination, the engine of your car is way more powerful than most of the automobiles out there.

Right by the door of your vineyards, a man that seems to be on the bones, salutes you.

“Yohohoho! What are you doing here, Boss? Welcome! Do I prepare a glass of Merlot or maybe a Pinot Noir for you tonight? ” he asks, taking his hat off, revealing an amazing afro underneath.

“Brook, take this to the jet. The pilot will be here at any minute, he is a new one so let him pass the door” you instruct your housekeeper, throwing your carry on at him.

His eyes, deep into the sockets of his skull, open wide. Of course, nobody expects you to fly with such storm outside… but that’s just you, and exactly how you are.

“Sure, Boss. I’ll sort everything out for you right away”

You take a swift look at the main house of your vineyards. Everything is perfectly clean and well kept. You are satisfied; your personnel works perfectly well. Except your private pilot, that one is already fired.

You sit down, flopping maybe onto a fancy couch. Nobody is watching, you are allowed to rest for at least just a moment. However, the calm lasts no longer than a couple of seconds.

“Miss (Name), the pilot is here” Brook comments, making your shut eyes to open slowly and -mostly- annoyed. You didn’t expect to see a man standing right next to your employee, but there he is.

“Who are you? why aren’t you on the plane already?” you ask, not even standing up but crossing your legs as you stiff your back muscles. Your thighs, flash a little bit of them underneath the cut of your pencil tight skirt. Your red nails carve on the sides of the armchairs.

The man, of steel eyes and dark hair smirks just a little with defiance and superior demeanour. Something you most likely don’t fancy but makes your insides… anxiously alive.

Wearing nothing but a private pilot uniform, he stands right in front of you. It shows that he is clearly not used to serve, but to be served. And you soon remember this man, who’s been called a “kid”, is in fact Donquixote Doflamingo’s nephew.

“You must be Doffy’s nephew; you are just like him; you don’t bow before anyone. Don’t you?” you ask, this time standing up. Not even your high heels are enough to surpass his height.

He hums. “Trafalgar Law, and I’m not like him” he spits. Apparently he is not only spoiled, but also hates his own family. “I’m not here to work for you, I am here because I’ve been told you needed a favour. You should know how to fly planes by now” he states.

You burn. How dare him tell you are not independent enough.

“Indeed, I do. Apparently you aren’t aware of the fact that I can’t fly without another pilot because of stupid laws and regulations. This isn’t a helicopter; this is a jet” you inform him, walking right pass him and asserting dominance with your hand on his shoulder.

You look him in the eye with a side look. Law, does the same. You are close, so close you can hear his breathing. And your image, imponent and beautiful, reflects on the golden hoops that hang from his right ear.

Both, intensely fight in silence. For what, however, none of you exactly know. And the energy between you two, could probably alter the weather, and the world itself…

“Come on, I have no time to waste. I need to be in London by tomorrow morning” you break the silence. Walking towards a big hall that takes you to the hangar, you turn around just for a couple of seconds to give a last lethal look at your new young companion.

Just a hint of flustered cheeks show in his face, but it’s enough for you to feel like you have won the battle of dominance. Or that’s what you thought.

The heavy steps behind you, makes you internally smile. You are used to be followed by almost mute employees, walking on eggshells not to piss you off. But Law is different; he is not doing this for the money, nor status. He is as suicidal as you, flying in this weather should be prohibited… in fact, it is. But the rich never ask for permission. You are know you are above everything else. And that includes the clouds, too.

“Give me a second, let me sort the charts” Law says, taking a look at the papers in his hands before climbing into the jet.

You nod, as you do the same with your laptop. Something inside you tells you to stop; that those conditions will bring more than mere turbulence. Yet, your cold heart, tells you something louder than your reason; “who cares if something happens, after all? Just do it”

Half an hour after, and a couple of swift looks at each other, Law and you are already set to departure.

For the first time since he arrived you notice the tattoos on his hands; knuckles inked with the word “D.E.A.T.H” rip a scoff from you. It is quite funny to you, that those hands could most likely either fly you to death if you aren’t lucky enough, or to London if you are.

“We don’t need to fly now, we can wait until the conditions seem better” Law murmurs, as those inked fingers turn on every button of the plane. “Your plans aren’t more important than any life”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOh. So, he is not that willing to die as Doffy said…

[elixrr]

Cuddles With Them:

ft. Kazuha, Xiao, Venti, Lyney - (headcanons + SFW)

Genderless reader <3

Kazuha –

An absolute darling as a lover, and still that absolute darling when you both lay together, whether it be a cozy night to a lazy morning in bed, or a comfortable afternoon on a warm rock in the wild.

He's an absolute master in the art of making you feel comfortable. When you both hold one another, his hand finds its way to your hips and waist, and the other traces against an invisible trail against your skin, usually from your face, down to your collarbone— not wishing to make you feel discomfort, he stops before going along and beyond your chest.

He enjoys simply looking at you too, every feature that you bear, gazing— so obviously mesmerized by each and every detail, and every time he catches his gaze lingering in a certain area, he kisses it. Your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, lips— every piece and part of you— is pure beauty to him, and so he kisses you.

Kazuha doesn't talk too much when cuddling with you; He often listens to you ramble on about anything and just about everything, but when/if you have nothing to say, he will either do the talking, or he will stay silent with you, focusing less on a conversation, but shifts all his attention to your features. Oftentimes, he'll stare into your eyes and, with a soft smile and the scent of the wind and leaves whirling around him, he'll let out a relaxed sigh and accompany the exhale with an endearment,

“You really are amazing, my dove.”

Overall, Kazuha is a wonderful cuddler. Every second you're there beside him is an utmost comfortable moment, no matter the place or time.

Xiao —

Quite an inexperienced and unsure cuddler. Half the time, he'd be flipping his hand from place to place, trying to find a comfortable position for the both of you (though mainly for you), and he ends up settling on hesitantly holding you at your hips.

However, cuddles with him are rare, and the adeptus oftentimes gets flustered and teleports away to cool off. Try not to tease or poke fun at his nervousness.

Xiao would always check in with you to see if he's making you feel safe and comfortable. You're his top priority, and that's shown by him constantly checking if you're okay. He knows you're safe since you're with him, but he wants to make you feel that you're going to be okay... He may also need the reassurance that he's doing good and that he isn't, by any means, going too far or making your uncomfortable.

He's not very knowledgeable in physical touch, nor has he experienced such affectionate and comfortable touch in his life, so forgive him for being inexperienced. That said, the more you do it, the more comfortable he gets with it, and even sometimes— very rarely— he may be bold enough to snuggle just a bit closer to you.

Speaking of his comfort, he refuses to cuddle with you in the open public. Affection is one thing for him, but a public display of it is a whole other thing. He will only agree if it's on the ground in a plain field without anyone on it, but chances are a bed or the rooftop of Wangshu Inn are more likely.

Xiao would only kiss you once or twice, in contrast to lathering you in a hundred kisses. Intimate moments like these are extremely new and rare when it comes to Xiao, so he's always unsure and too scared to make a move, but when he does, he may faintly blush, lean the slightest bit closer, and whisper with softness in his voice,

“Is it.. okay, if I kissed you?”

Overall, his cuddles are rare but always amazing. He's unsure at first, but he sinks into it towards the end— melting into your touch and opening up to the comfort of you in his arms, perhaps talking the days and nights away, or just laying with him, silent and tranquil like water.

Venti — [Fluff + Slight Angst]

Even if his breath smells of the sweetest of apples and the finest of wines, even if you're out and about and just busy overall, he'll cling like a cutie, latching onto you and begging for a cuddle or so.

Venti will always promise it'll be quick, always assuring you that he won't take long. Maybe he'll even say it's just a swig of a hug that he wants— but you both know that even five minutes turn to fifty, or even an hour, two hours, sometimes beyond it.

Still, in spite of the clinginess, he knows just what makes you give into his touch; he knows you well enough to know what position his arms should take, where his hands should hold you, and how tight you usually like him holding you. When he knows you're comfortable enough, he knows he's already won.

He's quite the opposite of Xiao when it comes to cuddles, and he's just a tad more bold than Kazuha. He lathers you in kisses and always makes sure to let you know that he loves you every ten seconds. It's endearing how he's so freely affectionate with you, and as long as he understands you're okay and absolutely comfortable with it, he will not hesitate to display all this affection for you.

As bubbly as Venti is, he can be serious too, and sometimes his cuddles aren't filled with joyous laughter or cheesy love poems and songs— sometimes, in the dead of night, when the lights of Mondstadt have blown out and all the stars have twinkled the citizens to a slumber, the bard may stumble out of a bar, drunken with wine and solemnity— accompanied with a slight frown on his face— he will seek you out for the reassurance and comfort of your heavenly touch.

Still, after a cuddle session, whether full of funk or full of drunken, drowning tears, he will always thank you for your time. It seems rather uncharacteristic, but he really means it. Intimate moments with you are not rare, but even so, he will never fail to realize just how much you mean to him when you return each hug, cuddle, kiss, and tolerate the childish, playful behavior of his. Venti will never forget that he is yours and that you are his, and he is forever grateful.

In such moments, he will tuck a cecilia behind your ear and place a kiss on your cheek. With sparkles in his eyes, he'll brighten himself even more and cheer,

“In my utmost respect, allow me to raise a glass to you and my gratitude for everything about you!”

Overall, playful usually but serious every-so-often during his cuddles. He's cheery. He'll go on and on about whatever, and you'll listen to him, and he'll be super kissy and clingy with you whenever he possibly can be.

Lyney —

One of the most, if not the most, romantic and bold cuddlers in this headcanon list. Good with words and flirts, he won't hesitate to gaze into the features he finds to be the most mesmerizing on you, and he'll send over a wave of compliments in an attempt to fluster you.

Cuddles with him really aren't rare. They're quite common. He probably prefers to cuddle with you at night, considering his schedule as a well-known and famous magician around Fontaine. Still, he'll definitely be lazily wrapping his arms around your waist, sometimes your neck, and sometimes he'll just pull you close and simply lay close to you with almost no space to separate you both.

Even when you're groggy and ready for sleep, he'll still ask if he could perform one last trick for you, only one! Despite your answer, he'll still do it anyway because he wants to see your eyes glimmer with wonder again, even if you were at his magic show a few long hours ago.

Lyney would always use rainbow roses for these late night magic tricks, always finding some way to place it on you, tucking it in your hair, magically teleporting it into your hands, perhaps it even appears next to you on the bed. He'll always find a sneaky way to give you a rainbow rose, and it happened so frequently that you keep a vase next to your window to place every rainbow rose into.

Whenever you cuddle, Lyney won't hesitate to be as physically intimate as possible, tracing his hands around you, holding your face to place several kisses all over. His charm never ceases to make your heart flutter, and it also never fails to make you blush, like whenever his eyes linger and gaze into yours for a little too long, or whenever he leans in close and whispers all sorts of compliments and flirts into your ear.

What still drives you crazy is when he smiles with his hands in yours, only to let go and hold your waist instead, pulling you closer and almost, almost placing a kiss next to your ear, but instead he brushes his lips against your ear and whispers,

“Your eyes are just so mesmerizing.. I want to stay up all night and gaze only into those eyes that I adore.”

Overall, the most flirty, bold, and romantic cuddlers of all these characters. Beware of Lyney's cuddles, for it's so easy for his touch to melt you— and it's so easy to just get so caught up in his charm that you might not even be able to sleep later into the night.

Take that as you will.

[gaysindistress]

Limits of a Fae Heart - four

Pairings: Azriel x Reader Summary: With war looming over their heads, the Inner Circle is desperate for a solution. The one they found comes in the form of a resurrected female who’s fated to not only their Shadowsinger but once to their enemy as well. Word count: 3.9k Warnings: mentions of past abuse (but no detailed descriptions), suggestive themes, things are heating upppp. One | two | three | five | six taglist: @dr4g0ngirl @isa1b2h3

Stern and tight voices make their way from downstairs to my room. I try to ignore them however the high pitches of their concern makes it hard to drown them out. Having finished bathing and scrubbing the blood from my skin some time ago, my hair is mostly dried so I leave it down as I dress. Clad in a pair of fitted high waisted black trousers and a simple black halter top, I make the awful decision to find out what the voices are talking about. 

Elain, Nesta, and Mor are sharing the sitting room couch while a red haired male stands by a window. Rhys and Feyre are against opposing doorways while Cassian and Azriel are between them. The sight of Rhys makes my skin crawl after my encounter earlier but I push down as I quietly descend the stairs barefoot. The shadows take notice of my entrance and start to grow restless causing a scene as Azriel hisses under his breath at them to behave. 

Feyre smiles at me and turns to face me while the rest of them simply watch me. While some are pleasant, they all view me with red tinted glasses and are guarded around me. I know the sight of me being so casual in their home makes them uncomfortable and even more so as my wings and scars catch the light. The red haired male peers at me through one russet colored eye and one golden mechanical eye. Nesta is stone faced and tight lipped as usual while Elain drifts from being a life sized doll to an unsettling wise woman. Mor lounges while Cassian watches his brother who is staring with a purpose at the wall. 

However none bother me more than Rhys at this moment.

With his Daemati talons, he’s trying to find a crack in my mental shields but to no avail. Add my earlier run in with the Ravens and to say I’m on edge is an understatement. The grating feeling of those talons against my mind is enough to make me forget my impulse control for half a second. I send him flashes of what happened on the rooftop as well as my time spent in between life and death. His violet eyes wide with what I think might be the closest thing to fear he’s let anyone see in years. If he wasn’t leaning against the doorway already, I’m sure the stumbling step back he takes would’ve sent him to the ground.

The entire room tenses and Feyre is at his side in the blink of an eye. She shoots me a fury filled look before her own caress touches my shields. The other three males have turned and are ready to attack if needed although it seems to pain Azriel to do so. 

I decide it’s better to not do the same to Feyre and simply shove her out. I take her place against the doorway, leaning against it with my arms crossed and wings drawn in tight. No one says anything and with how thick the air is, it appears that they’re all waiting for my explanation. 

“Next time I won’t be so gentle,” I inform Rhys with a saccharine smile while inspecting my nails.

“You were attacked and didn’t tell us,” he states, intentionally choosing to ignore my comment. Shadows dance nervously around the room and a few brave their way towards me. I let them come closer but my arms remain crossed over my chest and offer them no welcome to climb further. It concerns them more than anything and their chirping silence fills the room with unease.

I rolls my eyes at the way that everyone stands on even higher alert, “I handled it didn’t I?”

“That’s not the point.”

“So what is then?” I casually ask and the shadows curl around my legs, acting as a sort of armor. “You all knew already so why does it matter if I wasn’t the one to share that information?”

Rhys’ jaw tightens at my words and and so does the thread in my chest. My eyes dart to Azriel and there’s something sharp to his silence. He’s usually quiet and reserved but there’s an edge to the utter stillness and silence about him right now.

“We need to have trust between us. We can’t let…”

I cut Rhys off, “Trust? That’s an awfully big request considering our situation but the wrong one nonetheless. We don’t need to trust each other, we don’t even have to tolerate each other. All we need is an understanding; if you get what you want and I get what I want, then we’re all good. You brought me here to kill the King of Hybern and I’ll do that but only if you agree to leave me the fuck alone afterwards. I don’t think that’s too much to ask now is it?”

“You can’t…”

“I don’t think that’s too much to ask now is it? Or is this your way of telling me that you’re the one that can’t be trusted? I hope that you’re smarter than to try to pull one over me because the moment that I catch wind of anything untoward, I will make Velaris bleed.”

Cassian steps forward but Rhys holds his hand out and stops him. They share a look, more than likely speaking to each other via Rhys’ daemti abilities and stand down. Feyre steps up beside him, the perfect image of the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court.

“Do not threaten my city or my family. You are not as irreplaceable as you’d like to think.”

“The same can be said for you.” I almost laughed as I said those words but Azriel kills the sound in my throat. The bastard tugs on the thread that connects us and sends a shiver through my body. The shadows around me hug closer as my wings flare out against my will and I hit my back hard against the doorway. 

He’s moved to stand in front of me as well as moved his shadows to do the same, effectively blocking us from everyone. 

“What are you doing?” I hiss at him although it sounds far more breathless than I intended. My body feels foreign; tingly and warm while fighting to remain frigid and distant. The heated memory of our kiss is still fresh on my lips while the image of his disbelief face flashes in my mind. 

“Stand down,” he whispers to me like I’m a cornered feral dog, “I don’t feel like cleaning up Cassian or Rhy’s blood.”

This infuriating male gazes down at me with all of the tenderness that I don’t deserve….i don’t… I don’t want it.

“Bold of you to assume you can command me,” I hiss at him and my wings twitch against the door frame. While he’s significantly taller than me, our wings stand at the same height. They’re almost perfect mirror images of each other, as if we were meant to be mates.

Shit.

Now staring at him, trying to be irate with him, the bond finds a way to make me want his tender heart and his sweet lips. It makes me want his coy smile and gentle touch. It forces me to want it all and it vibrates with joy. 

It’s rather quickly ruined by a wave of concern and subtle anger as Azriel’s eyes move from my face to my exposed skin. Raised red marks and indented brown ones litter my shoulders, arms, and back. His matching hands reach out for my arms. 

Our shadows fall away and reveal my room instead of the crowded one downstairs. The dark creatures find their place against the door, acting as a barrier between us and them. The male before me grasps my arms with such care and affection that it threatens to make my anger melt. He holds my elbows and turns my arms so they face up and he can actually look at the scars. A poignant sadness is etched into his features as he memorizes every little blemish. 

My wings quiver nervously when we make eye contact. I have to crane my head up to look at him with how tall he is. He’s taller than any other fae I’ve ever met and far more handsome as well. The beauty that lays effortlessly in his features makes even the world’s natural beauty look dull. His brothers are handsome but this male, Azriel, is ethereal and my soul is inexplicably tied to his. 

“Did he do this to you?” He finally asks with an intensity I wasn’t expecting. 

I can only nod, suddenly feeling the will to be stubborn and hardened fall away. He shakes his head and his grip grows firmer as he steps closer to me. I expected him to pull me into him but the fact that he was the one to close the distance feels too intimate. I make a half decent attempt to pull away and he loosens his grip, still keeping our eyes locked. There’s another lighter tug on our bond, this time it’s more of a question than a distraction. 

“Is this okay?” It seems to ask. 

Shaking my head, I pull away entirely but stay in my place. “No amount of kind gestures will convince me to accept the bond.”

“Reject it then.”

Confused hurt flashes across my face, “excuse me?”

“Reject the bond then. If that’s how you’ll accept my ‘kind gestures’ as you put it, then reject it.”

“You asked me not to only a few hours ago.”

“And I’m seeing now that I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t right of me to ask you to do something that’s already caused you so much pain,” his voice cracks slightly however he remains strong in his certainty. 

I can’t help the green envy that licks up my spine, “I suppose the youngest sister has nothing to do with your sudden change of heart.”

Azriel has the audacity to look offended. “Elain has nothing to do with this.”

“Elain,” I sneer at him and take that damning step towards him. He stays quiet and allows me to say whatever cruel thing I can think of to push him away. He takes my anger and makes it into light that spreads across our unaccepted bond. The fact that we can feel so much more than I did with the King spins webs of confusion in my heart. Nothing with Azriel feels the way it did with the King and I don’t know why. 

“I thought I might’ve felt something for her before I met you but I’ve realized that it was nothing more than platonic feelings. She knows that and she understands that nothing will ever happen between us.”

“Friends don’t rush to your side like that.”

His face breaks into a small smile, “maybe not but I didn’t notice. You were the only one I was looking at.”

That takes me by surprise. I find my resolve starting to crack even more as he continues to shock me. My mind races with a thousand thoughts and I can’t pick a single one to focus on. Instead what falls out is something I wish wouldn’t have, “Rejecting it could drive you into madness.”

Azriel steps closer, bridging our gap so we’re almost chest to chest now. He brushes my hair over my shoulders and cups my neck as he brings out foreheads together. My hands fly up to his chest, ready to shove him away if needed. 

“I’d rather live in madness than see you suffer like this.”

“You can’t mean that,” I breathe out as my eyes flutter closed to stop the tears from falling. 

“I already told you that I want only what you want. I will do anything you ask of me without any questions. If this is what you want, then it is what I want.”

The this feels like a double edged sword; this as in accepting him or this as in rejecting him. 

Our noses bump against each other and Azriel lets out a content sigh. I can feel his eyes close as his lashes brush against my cheek bone. The hand on my neck slides up until his thumb is under my jaw and is gently rubbing against my jaw bone. The sensation causes a tingling shiver to overcome me and my skin breaks out in goosebumps. I wasn’t aware of my hands sliding up his chest until they found their home playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. I didn’t feel his free hand on my hip until it digs into the soft skin there and urges us impossibly closer. 

“What do you want, sweet girl?” He whispers against my lips. They’re warm and soft and teasing and oh by the cauldron my brain ceases to work. I’m not even sure how my lungs are able to function either. All I know is that I can’t say the words so I push up on my toes and smash our lips together.

As if this male couldn’t get under my skin anymore, he moans into our kiss and drags me flush against his chest. The leather of his fighting gear is cold against my skin but it does nothing to soothe the feverish burn I’m starting to feel. 

Azriel lets me lead, keeping his kiss gentle but no less firm and passionate than mine. The hand on my waist drifts to my lower back and brushes past my wings in the process causing them to writhe in its wake. My own pathetic moan slips out and my hand grips at his hair, tugging it as I kiss him harder. His tongue finds its opportunity to slip in and I gladly welcome it by opening my lips to allow our tongues to mingle. 

Breathing feels more like a burden as it forces us to part and we reluctantly pull away. I let my hands fall from his hair and rest them on his chest. He softly guides me into his chest, letting the hand at my jaw slide back to my hair and the one at my back to wrap around my shoulders. I slide my own arms around his middle and cling to him as if we’ve been mated for years. He drops his head to rest on top of mine and I can feel his labored breaths against my hair. 

Our bond feels full and complete as we hold each other. 

Once, many years ago, I had dreamed of finding this and thought that I did in the King. I had been so full of hope and patience to make it work no matter how painful it was for me. For every token of affection I gave him, he returned it with insults, actions, and looks that were tenfold worse than before. I don’t know when I lost that part of me but I lost it so easily. It felt like it happened in a matter of days. One day that bright eyed and hopeful young Fae was there and then the next, gone. She slipped from my fingers like water does when you try to cup it. I hardly even noticed that she wasn’t there until it was too late and I couldn’t get her back but then I realized I didn’t want her back. She fell from me like a teacup that dropped onto an unforgiving kitchen floor. One day we were laughing and smiling at the sky and the next day, gone. It was like she was never even there to begin with. She walked right out and never turned back, leaving me to try and cope with the aftermath of her dreams. She left me when I needed her the most. I needed her to guide me through the years of abuse that I suffered at the hands of a male I thought I was Fated for. I needed her to stay and help me push through so that I could find a way to have the life she planned for me. 

I had resigned myself to a life of agony and caring for scars that would never truly heal. That was until the moment I saw Azriel. That was the moment I realized that everything I had believed for so long could’ve been wrong. When I saw this beautiful creature with twinkling eyes, soft lips, delicate cheeks, a perfect nose, and glowing skin emerge from the shadows, my reality shifted. When that bond snapped, I couldn’t imagine that this magnificently and terrifying beautiful male felt it too. I knew that I would never be satisfied with just being near him. I need him more than I would need myself. 

But when I so awfully told him that we were mates, I saw that look in his eye; it had snapped. There was a chance I could have him and he could have me. I could love him and watch the sunlight dances across his skin as he looks at me with the same adoration in his eyes. I could tell him about the admiration that runs so deeply that I don't know where it ends and I begin. The moment that that realization hit me, it shattered my reality and ran away to lick my wounds in isolation. 

Now as I hear his heartbeat and feel his breath in my hair, I can’t fathom why I would do such a thing. 

“It’s time to wake up.”

Blinding pain bursts through my body as I take my first breath of air after waking up. My lungs seize for a moment and I gasp for breath while I shoot forward on my bedroll. The calming scent of the forest and mist wrap itself around me as I slowly regain my senses. A small chuckle drifts from beside me and its owner makes a poor attempt to hide his smile as he pretends to dig around in his pack. 

“Say another word and I’ll slit your throat,” I mumble as I sit up and drag a cold hand over my face. 

“Wow you’ve just woken up and you’re already snapping at people. That’s a new record for you,” Cassian says with a sarcastic chuckle as he enters the pathetic excuse for a tent. 

I’m blinded by the sunlight that he lets in but I welcome its warmth after having slept on the freezing ground for the last couple of nights. Azriel moves to sit beside me and offers a thick sweater as well as some food to me as he tells his brother to kindly shut up. 

“Unless you want her to snap you, I’d suggest you leave her alone until she’s had time to…” he pauses for a second and glances down at me with a breathtaking smile, “to process that you’re real and not a figment of her imagination.” 

“You know, I thought when you found your mate that she would make you friendlier and generally a warmer person but this one has had the opposite effect on you.”

Azriel is still smiling at me and I can only handle his open affection for so long. Quickly, I pull the sweater that is absolutely his as it smells just like him and settle my bored gaze on Cassian. 

“Or you’ve just gotten more annoying and he’s fed up with it.”

Cassian gaps at me and looks at Azriel for help who just shrugs his shoulders. “I’m deeply wounded that you think I’m annoying. I’m a pleasure to be around. I am a delightful person once you get to know me.”

“As I am,” I throw back at him with my own small smile. Cassian doesn’t catch it as he leaves us but the male next to me does.

Azriel doesn’t say anything but his gentle actions towards me tell me that he saw it. He takes my hands, rolls up the sleeves of the sweater, and pulls my hair out of the collar. A shiver races down my spine as his fingers brush against my skin and his smile grows into a smirk. It falters as he catches a glimpse of the raised lines that trail across my shoulders and neck before disappearing under his sweater. I thought it would be better to hide my wings while we were on our little mission. I refused to let Rhys or Feyre near them, choosing to use an elixir that a healer made for me in Velaris. The effects would only last for a few days but having them visible and therefore vulnerable isn’t something I want. Besides that the only one I’d even let come within a ten foot radius of them would be Azriel; a fact I haven’t told him but one he knows to be true in his heart.

The mission that we are on is one that I reluctantly agreed to. Rhys was given permission to search my mind for any information that they could use against the King but as I’d already told them, he found nothing of use. The Ravens that attacked me had not been the only ones in the city and they had unintentionally left a trail of breadcrumbs back to a war camp about 20 miles outside of Velaris. Rhys thought it would be worthwhile to send Cassian, Azriel, and myself to investigate and gather what information we could. I knew that it would be pointless and I tried to tell Rhys that but he didn’t seem exactly interested in hearing what I had to say.

Although I agreed to his mission, I made it clear that I would be calling the shots and that included having authority over his brothers. Cassian had a fit while Azriel didn’t seem to have a problem with it. Of course that incited teasing and banter from both Cassian and Rhys but Azriel held strong in his approval. 

“She knows the King the best. I’d trust her judgment more than anyone else’s,” he told them and my chest swelled with pride. 

Cassian challenged him by asking what if he didn’t agree with it and Azriel repeated his statement. 

“If I didn’t think I could fully trust and rely on her to do this, then I wouldn’t have bothered even telling you she existed.”

A part of me wanted to believe his sweet words but the other side told me that it was all an act to manipulate me. The bond between us, however, preened with warmth unlike before.

I find myself smiling as he softly calls my name and brings me back to the present. 

“Are you ready?” 

“Yeah,” I sigh and pull on my boots that were waiting for me next to my bedroll. After I finish tying the last one, I turn to see him still watching me with those twinkling eyes. “Can I help you?”

“May I kiss you?” 

My brows shoot up and I stare at him skeptically. He repeats his question as if I hadn’t heard it. 

Shaking my head, I tell him, “No I heard you. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Azriel dips his head down and tilts my chin up with his forefinger so he can look me in the eye. “It surprises you that I’d ask to kiss you?”

Words fail me as I search his face for a hint of something, anything at all that would tell him he’s being disingenuous. There’s nothing but those tempting plush lips and a hooded look to his eyes.

His smirk returns in full force and he draws me closer to whisper against my lips, “Why wouldn’t I want to kiss my sweet girl?”

“Because I’m not your sweet…” my thoughts trail off as my eyes flutter close and I take in a sharp breath at the feeling of his lips ghosting over mine. 

“You’re not what?” He pulls away just as I start to lean in and I nearly growl at him. 

“I’m not your sweet girl,” I growl as frustration grows inside of me.

The bond even sides with him and waves of several emotions flood me but the one that hits me the hardest is his desire. Flashes of white hot pleasure crash into me and I surge forward to capture his lips. He reciprocates eagerly and we both immediately get caught up in branding each other’s lips. I barely notice him leaning us backwards until my back hits my bedroll and he’s between my legs.

I become too preoccupied with the overwhelming feeling of him all around me and without thinking, I arch up into him drawing a heated moan from both of us. Azriel’s hands were firmly planted on either side of my head but after my moan slipped out, he dropped down to his forearm and is now holding my thigh against his hip in a bruising grp. He tentatively rolls his hips against mine, pressing his growing bulge against my core, and on instinct mine meets his and so begins the desperate dance of grinding hips. I feel a smirk tug on his lips at the wild movements of my hips. 

Arching my back and tightening my leg around his waist, I bit down on his bottom lip and as his hips stuttered with a drawn out moan, I smirk back at him. Before he can get his revenge, Cassian calls out for Azriel. He pulls away from me with a heavy sigh and drops his head into the croak of my neck. 

“Your dog is calling for you,” I say with a breathy chuckle and playful shove at his shoulders. The male above me groans but climbs to his feet and pulls me up with him. 

“He’s not a dog.”

“Fine your bat is calling for you.”

“Don’t let me hear you say that,” he chuckles while gazing down at me with desire. He presses a quick but powerful kiss to my lips with a promise “We’ll finish this later, sweet girl.”

“I’m not your sweet girl.”

“We’ll see about that.”

[hai7ani]

橘 (TACHIBANA/JÚ) haitani rindou

nsfw (smut) mdni

masterlist | playlist

part i / what would you do for love?

You think the summer of 2008 is bittersweet.

You did a lot of things back then -- finishing your gap year after graduating last summer and working a part-time job at a Family Mart in central town. Applied for countless of universities in Tokyo while questioning if it was really what you wanted to do. Experienced your parents' divorce and watched as your father cut ties and left you and your mother alone to pick yourselves up piece by piece. Lost your virginity to a boy you liked a lot and got your fragile heart broken by him after.

Not everything from that summer was bad -- you just don't like thinking about it a lot. There were good times and new experiences; yet the memories of you and Rindou will forever over-shine them and it always gets so awful that you'd prefer not to think about it so often because it only does nothing but makes your heart ache whenever you're reminded of that day and the day after.

A random afternoon in July and the two of you are spending the day kissing each other stupid in his childhood home. Rindou tastes like peppermint and tobacco and you cannot get enough of his lips -- so you keep on kissing him until your lips are tired and sore and he decides to pause for a moment to look into your ocean eyes.

You both come from a small town located in Kanagawa Prefecture. The people living there are warm like summer and were never cold like the winter; families care for each other as their own and that's also how you've come to know these two boys.

You grew up with the two sons of Mr and Mrs Haitani -- just born a year after their youngest and you follow them everywhere they go; from watching them play basketball at the park to climbing rooftops together of random shop lots in town.

One particular activity you enjoy doing with them is having competitions on picking mandarins at the nearby orchard, and you will always hold those moments dear to your heart despite everything else -- because you were never good at picking mandarins but there will always be Rindou beside you sneakily throwing in a couple extras in your basket when the time's running out and Ran is loudly boasting about his basket full of the citrus. And you'll look into Rindou's and notice there isn't anything inside, because what was once in there were now in yours and he ends up having to clean Ran's room for a week as his punishment for not getting any. And the two of you will meet eyes when the older boy isn't looking -- he'll fist bump you, "I got'chu," with a bright, handsome grin and you'll always blush in return.

The boys left for Tokyo as soon as they turned 14 and 15 and they seldom come back home for visits. You don't see them a lot, just during the summer when they spend a few weeks over with dyed hairs and different piercings and when it happens you always get so happy because you get to leave their house after with a few gentle kisses snuck to you in the kitchen while your families are busy chatting on the dinner table.

This summer, you're 19 and Rindou will be turning 20 soon. Ran had just turned 21 in May and it makes you feel a bit sad when you think about it -- the three of you used to hang out every day while fooling around at the park and talking about the future and now all of a sudden they're in their 20s and you don't talk a lot.

The brothers are spending the holiday back home and when the news broke you immediately ran over to their house, your flip flops loud against the tar road and the boys hear you before they see you. You hug Rindou first, Ran next and the older boy says he got you something and you grin brightly at his words. Rindou tugged you behind when he made sure Ran is walking ahead and is not going to look back and he kissed your rosy cheek as a greeting. You giggled into his back and he simply pulled you along by hooking pinkies and he'd only let you go when his parents were in sight.

Then on, you stop by whenever your hands are free and you always bring something with you whenever you visit -- their mother has always loved a good gift and it never fails to have your heart warm and flutter when she pulls you close and kisses your cheek for your sweetness. You brought watermelons today -- Grandpa got a good deal from a family friend and said to take some along and give it to the Haitanis when you go.

Two empty cans of Asahi and neatly cut triangles of the fruit sits in a porcelain plate on Rindou's desk, all left untouched and soggy because neither of you thinks that watermelon is sweeter than each other's lips.

And they're chasing each other -- yours and his. Red, swollen, and a bit purple too from the teasing bites and harsh sucks you give to each other, but you don't seem to care and he pulls you close to his face again to sigh dreamily into your mouth when you sit on him just right.

If his mother were to come up here and ask for the plate back, you're sure she'd scream and yell and hit the both of you when she finally finds out what the hell is actually going on with her youngest and the girl living down the street who have been hiding in his bedroom with the door locked all day. You figure it'd be considered filthy -- you're sitting on top of Rindou who so obviously has a very difficult boner that's needs to be taken care of and you're grinding your hips on it slowly.

He moans when you press down harder and his hands fly down to your waist and he grips your meat tight. He holds and keeps you there and he rests his head on your shoulder.

You think it's a bit complicated between you and him. It's not like you're dating. You're nothing like a boyfriend and girlfriend relationship -- you've never had that talk before. You've never confessed your feelings either. And yet he treats you so differently than he does to the other girl living down the street -- Himeko, who have always treated him nicer than usual. She's nice to Ran, she's nice to you, but she is so much nicer to Rindou and it makes you see red sometimes whenever you spot them both standing in an alleyway and she passes him a bento box she prepared that morning or some handmade keychains she learnt at a workshop in school.

But Rindou will reject them every single time and you'll always get giddy when he walks over to you and ruffles your hair. "Let's go." And he pushes you forward with a hand pinching your nape.

Rindou sends you a gift every spring without miss and he writes you letters sometimes because you've told him before that you don't use the Internet often. There will always be a few snacks and keychains attached in the parcel; sometimes it's box and sometimes it's a big brown envelope. It depends on what he sends but big or small, you don't mind. You don't care. Because they're from him -- the letters are handwritten, gifts are handpicked and his hard-earned money were spent. It is all that matters.

You hide and kiss each other behind doors or when you think people aren't looking. You were 15 when you gave him your first kiss in your bedroom after you both had a little bit too much of his father's stolen beer to drink but he tells you he doesn't regret it the next day. You shook your head with a smile and said that it was never a mistake. You're not too sure if the kiss was his first too, but you remember that he was blushy when he inched closer to your lips and stamped a firm kiss on it. Rindou was 16 when he kissed you for the first time and you always hold it dear to your heart.

Since then, Rindou kisses you whenever he can and you always return it while pressing a thumb into his bicep as affection -- he's told you once he doesn't like it when people touch him there because he is training but he never pushes you away when you do it. Instead, he smirks and wraps a hand behind your neck.

Rindou never does those things to Himeko; he only does them to you.

And it makes you feel so special even though you've never established anything -- you're not exclusive. But he always holds your hand when he walks you home after waiting for you to finish summer school and he carries your bag on one shoulder while your swing your hands back and forth.

You're straddling his lap and Rindou lips part to say something but you're feeling a bit cheeky. You feel like teasing him because he's got a stupid smirk on his face. So you jerk your hip forward just a little and he moans. All the smugness on his handsome face disappears and a mouth-opened moan breaks through his lips so loud you had to clamp a hand over it to make sure his pretty noise doesn't travel any further -- you definitely don't want anybody to be catching the two of you like this right now.

He rests his head on the headboard and half-lidded eyes peer at you. He sticks his tongue out to lick your palm and you wipe it on his shirt with a scowl and he laughs. You're busy getting his saliva off your hand and he takes the chance to admire you -- his pretty girl who he thinks is so sexy right now with a strap of her tank top falling off her shoulder and the hem of it run up beneath her breasts, bun loose and stray hairs framing her pretty face.

And despite the rough and brave demeanour he presents to all the people who aren't you, Rindou is nothing but putty in your arms when he slides sneaky hands under your tank top and squeezes your mounds. You're shy when he fondles them like stress balls and you gasp when he pushes them up a little and squeeze even harder.

Rindou feels as though he's falling in love with you all over again.

But he doesn't tell you that.

Instead, he dips both thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and he pushes it down. He's blushing when the red of your lace is exposed and you're bold when you reach for the condom on his nightstand and put it to his mouth. He takes it as a cue to bite down on the packaging and rips it open. It's torn and you see the condom inside, but you don't take it out -- not yet.

A hand moves down to his exposed dick and your touch is electric when your pointer grazes along the vein running up to his angry tip and it turns dangerous when you wrap your hand around and give it a few pumps and strokes. He moans at the stimulation and pre-cum leaks from the slit and rolls down his shaft.

You think his dick looks so pretty.

You finally let go when you're satisfied at teasing him to take the rubber out with shaky hands and he watches with cloudy eyes as you roll it down his thick length. You drooled a little when you first saw it -- it's big and long and thick and you weren't sure if it was gonna fit. But he kisses your concern away and tells you to trust him -- and you trust him the most -- so you do. And you believe him when he tells you it wouldn't hurt so bad if you relax and let him do all the work.

And it didn't. It really didn't hurt at all when he pushes it in -- just a bit breath-knocking when he bottoms out and you whine into his ear that it feels good when he moves his hips like that. Rindou continues fucking you that way until you feel something funny bubble up in your abdomen -- you've touched yourself before and you're sure every other girl of your age has, but you've never felt anything like this while doing that and it makes you panic a little when it gets stronger and you doubt you can take it anymore.

"R-Rin, feels weird." Your mouth is ajar with soft gasps escaping and you tilt your head back on the soft pillow. He slows down a little to observe your body and control his strength to make sure you're not in pain, that he's not hurting you, but when he sees the pretty look on your face he smiles a little and continues. You roll your eyes back and grip his shoulder tight, nails digging into his skin and he hisses at the sting.

"Got'chu, pretty."

And you let everything go at it. Your thighs feels sticky and wet and you're so tired but you don't care because it felt so good -- he felt so good.

Rindou takes you in his bed again and again that afternoon; bending your bodies in different positions and kissing your lips so sweetly until there's not a single coherent thought going through your brain despite it being your first time because you think it was so magical. He made you feel so good and you know you want to do it with him again. So you don't stop until you're all spent and he loses it -- and by that he means moaning uncontrollably until his mother gets up to knock on the door and ask what is happening inside.

(She doesn't find out.)

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

You sit with him side by side on a bench at the park later that evening after getting cleaned and sneaking out through his window. You're holding a plastic bowl of kakigori in your hands and he's sipping on another can of Asahi despite you telling him to knock it off -- alcohol is bad and he'll become addicted (you say that as if you don't drink as well) but he simply wraps an arm around your frame and forces your head to rest on his shoulder. "I'll be fine." He smirks and you smack his thigh as a warning.

A bunch of young children are running around the playground, chasing each other and giggling happily while you kick your feet in the air and feed yourself another spoon of the sweetened shaved ice. Rindou crushes the now empty can and aims it to the nearby bin -- it circles around the mouth and slowly, it lands to the bottom with a clang and he claps with a cheer.

You knee his butt with a laugh and he bends to pick a wild flower from the bush. "Did Waseda reply?" He asks in a soft voice while dusting dirt off the petals and shuffle closer to you. You lick the spoon clean and blink dumbly when a hand reaches up to tuck your hair away and slot the flower on your ear. He adjusts it with a smile and he thinks you look real pretty like this. "No. Not yet." You reply, a bit stunned from his actions and you grin when he ruffles your hair. "Todai replied, though. But I wanna make sure I have all my options laid out first." And he listens as you continue to ramble about the other letters of acceptance you've received so far.

"I hope I don't make the wrong choice. Can't imagine losing myself studying something I don't like or at a place I don't find peace in."

"You won't."

He lifts your chin with two fingers.

"Look up."

Instead of the bright orange sun and pretty sunset in the sky, all you see is a camera pointed at your face and the next thing you hear is a loud click.

"Hey!" You smack his elbow with an angry red blush and he cackles while shoving the camera back into his pocket. "What? You're pretty. Wanna look at you forever."

"'M not." You fix your hair out of embarrassment from his praise while making sure the flower is in place -- he gave it to you and you don't wanna lose it. It's a pretty one too. "You are. You're the prettiest girl in the world." Rindou says it loudly and you pout when a lady walks past while looking at the two of you with judgemental eyes. But he ignores her and he makes you ignore her too when he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead, hands snaking around your neck and your eyelids flutter at his gentleness. You wrap yourself around him when you stand up, the plastic in your hands tossed at the ground to engulf him in a bear hug. He blushes when he feels your boobs press against his chest but you press your lips on his neck, feeling his quick pulse against them and he thinks he feels a bit more normal now.

"I never wanna lose you." He murmurs it to your ear and your heart tightens a little at it. But you hear some kind of hidden message in his words and you rub his back.

". . . My money is tight, so Tokyo isn't confirmed. Waseda and the others are just options. I also applied to the community college just in case. And you leave tomorrow. If things don't go as planned and I don't go to Tokyo, I'll have to wait another year to see you." Your lips wobble a little when you say it. Waiting for Rindou to come back home every summer was never easy and you can only count on the letters and merch he sends for you to feel closer to his heart.

". . . I'm staying here another week. Ran is going back alone tomorrow." You loosen your grip on him and look up into his eyes to search for any lies and uncertainty in them -- but all you see is sincerity and warmth and love. There's a certain look on his face that you can't decipher, though. You don't know what it means and what he really wants to say but you choose to brush it off when you're reminded that he called you a pretty girl and cup his cheeks with a grin.

"Really?" "Yeah." "Stay the night then. Ma won't know if we're quiet." "'Kay."

Ran stands behind the two of you under a tree and watches with betrayed eyes as you kiss and hug each other under the 6pm sun. He stares down at the taiyaki in his hand and angrily dumps it away in a bin. Ran knew you liked taiyaki. But Ran never knew that you liked Rindou more. And he walks away with that newfound knowledge as a long and sharp knife to his chest.

"Idiot Rin." Ran scoffs and shoves his hands into his pockets. "So much for saying you don't like her. Where does that fuckin' leave me?" He tuts and doesn't look at where he's going because he bumps into Himeko on the way back. He looks at her and notice that she's crying, face red with tears running down her cheeks and she brings an angry fist up to hit Ran on the shoulder. "Didn't you like her? Why is she with Rindou?" She yells and pokes a finger into his chest and Ran doesn't push her away. He doesn't call her names when she starts getting violent by kicking his leg. Instead, he lets Himeko release all her anger on him and he can only bite his lip and look up at the orange sky. ". . . Beats me, 'Hime."

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

You wake up at 2 in the afternoon the next day, head throbbing from a migraine and you pat on the area beside. It suddenly comes to you that Rindou isn't beside you in your bed. Though it makes sense, because it is halfway through the day and Rindou has always been a morning person.

But when you look around your room you realise that his stuff is all gone -- the Nirvana t-shirt that was hanging on the wall last night is not there. His metal glasses isn't on your nightstand. You don't smell his cologne in the air. There are no traces of him in your bedroom and you grow confused.

So you trot down the stairs with sore legs and cover your neck with your hands to ask your mother if she's seen him or Ran around. But she simply shakes her head and says that Ran took the first train back to Tokyo alone early in the morning. "Ran dropped by to say farewell. And he also left you something, it's on the table." She nods to the coffee table and you see a box on it. It's a bit big but you nod and look back at her.

"I didn't see Rindou, though. I asked Ran about him earlier and he said that Rindou will be gone for quite some time after this visit. I don't know what he meant by that but the boy looked sad when he said it. Maybe Rindou's already went back to Tokyo, I don't know. Or maybe he won't be coming back here anymore. Beats me. But I wish him the best, though. He's always been a bright kid with a bright future."

You run back to your room before your mother can finish her words and you call Rindou's number. You press the phone to your ear with shaky hands and it goes straight to voicemail. You dial his number again and again and pull at your hair when he doesn't pick up. So you spit it to his voicemail to go fuck himself for leaving you. You tell him that you never want to believe him anymore for lying to you. You cry that you are a fool for loving him. You love him. You loved him. "Don't ever let me see you again, Rindou." And you throw your phone at the wall angrily.

26 July 2008. Rindou was gone.

You went from seeing him every day to waiting for him to come home every summer and to not seeing him ever again.

And you laugh to yourself whenever your intoxicated mind travels back to the moment of you and Rindou in the park 7 years ago now that you're 26 and a working adult living alone in Tokyo. You don't bump into any of the brothers in the city. You lose contact with both and also Himeko.

Summer of 2008 is bittersweet.

And you weren't the only one who felt that way.

٩ ˊᗜˋ reblogs are appreciated & thank you for reading <3

[theyungihven]

The Demon's Infatuation • Sex Demon Yunho

CHAPTER 1

↬ pairing: dom demon yunho x sub female reader

↬ genre: smut, romance

↬ warnings: breeding kink, cream pie, pain kink, unprotected sex, hip bruises, biting kink, slut-shaming, choking kink, hard core dom yunho, yunho is OBSSESSED,

↬ word count: 1.2K+

↬ author’s note: this full novel length fic is a dedication to my boyfriend alex and the demon that visited me at night two years ago every full moon night

Summary :

It might sound crazy to say that I've become a demon's infatuation and you might ask me, 'how did you even end up in this place?' Well well, even I don't know how it happened and whenever I ask him or confront him about our first meeting, he avoids the topic by sensually kissing me and making me forget about the question with an orgasm. I can't leave him because I can't live without him either. He is as if an intoxication I cannot get out of my body and desperately need in order to stay sane. He says, 'no one will love you like I do, darling' but how do I tell him that no one has ever loved me and no one ever can because my soul belongs to him, so does my heart and they worship him day and night.

She's just an innocent heartbroken girl who just wants to be loved for once despite her flaws and imperfections and he's a wicked demon who wants nothing but to corrupt her soul to till all she can think of him. What can go wrong if he takes a little interest in her? Heaven along with Hell are not going to collide with the Earth, or will they?

What could exactly go wrong if I sit alone under the full moon at midnight?

What could exactly go wrong if I sit alone under the full moon at midnight? Nothing. So I don't give it a second thought and make myself comfortable in the chair placed out in the balcony, bathing in the moonlight. The faint melody of my favourite song plays in the background through my phone as it echoes through the balcony.

The balcony is my only safe space these days. It provides me comfort and solace when I desire it the most, in moments of utter hopelessness. It sports a pretty popular viewing and gossiping spot for my family on the first floor as it opens up towards the roadside. It also serves as a common concrete stairway to the rooftop.

The moon attempts to brighten up my gloomy mood as I dwell into my sadness. The cool breeze, which is as light as a feather, ruffles the tall green trees lining the streets and also caresses my cheek. It reminds me that I haven't been completely abandoned by this world and also that there are still some forces which appreciate my existence. 

Now, I cannot hope but wish that someone touched me in a similar manner. I wish someone held me like a mother holds her dear child, like a lover holds his significant other, like a child holds onto his dying pet. 

However, no matter how much I try to forget the incident that happened this afternoon, I can't seem to get it out of my head. I cannot get that picture of the people I once considered to be my friends, mocking me for liking a guy. I cannot forget the words they called me just for daring to like the most popular guy of my grade. 

They make me feel as if having a romantic interest in a boy or just simply liking someone is the biggest sin one could commit on the Earth.

My body shakes as the turbulent storm inside me rises to the surface and brews a great tsunami. It drenches my cheeks and my face as it brings destruction and mayhem along with it in the face of a heart-wrenching pain in my chest, hopelessness and a wave of absolute sadness which hits me like a speeding truck. Somehow, the hopelessness inspires me and convinces my mind to beg whoever deity is willing to listen to me. 

So, I do. 

“To whoever is listening,” I manage to say despite the water rising in my chest as it tries to suffocate me by drowning me in the lake of sadness but I need to beg the deity. So, I continue with my remaining energy, “I want a guy, who will love me for who I  am, despite my flaws and imperfections.” 

The dam breaks as the sea of sadness drowns me in it and finds an outlet through my eyes and the salty water flows along with my last words, “I don’t care about how he looks, or even if he’s a human!” At the end of the sentence, I end up on my knees, upon the cold white marble of the moonlit balcony, as the still water gushes out of my eyes and my body trembles like a tree against strong winds. 

An eerie silence follows, as I recover from the tsunami’s devastating damage but it isn’t long when I hear a deep chuckle, which is so crisp and clear as if the person is sitting right beside me. I look up and around to identify the potential maker of the noise, but end up meeting with disappointment when I fail to do so, but it doesn’t fail in sending a chill down my spine and my body on high alert. 

“Hello? Anyone here?” I say, but come to regret the decision of doing so in the next second when a shadow appears out of nowhere, sitting on the stairs leading to the rooftop. It leans back, placing its hand on the step as its lips curve up in a creepy smile. 

Its eyes glow a bright red and just one look at them is enough to send chills down my spine. When my body registers its glowing red eyes and black shadowy figure, its first instinct is to recite holy verses. I do as my mother taught me to wherever I encounter the child of the banished angel. However, I fail to pronounce them properly, as my tongue fails at cooperating with my mind and my body screams RUN. 

I do. I run, for my dear life.

I run inside as my fight or flight system takes over with the adrenaline coursing through my veins, at the highest concentration ever in my life. My poor heart tries to keep up with all the sudden increase in cardiac output, but the picture of his creepy smile still lingers in my mind,   as if imprinted onto my neurons. 

The first thing my itsy bitsy brain thinks of as a distraction is the radio my grandfather made for me. I turn it on, tuning the dial to search for stations while expecting some soothing tunes to play and it does. I breathe a sigh of relief when the radio plays Sparks by Coldplay, my all time favourite.

However my peace evaporates into thin air when the radio goes off tune and randomly switches channels only to land upon the frequency 66.60.

An eerie voice follows, which says, “you cannot run away from me, kitten.” 

I don’t even dare to touch the radio and follow my instincts this time. I run downstairs to my family who look at me as if they saw the stars when the sun rules the skies. I am breathless as I stand in front of my mother, who looks at me in surprise while I struggle to form sentences in my head as I sweat ridiculously.

“You look like you saw a ghost.”

“A cat.”

“Yeah, yeah, a shapeshifting cat.”

“As if anything of such kind exists in this world.”

“Dumb humans”

TAGLIST

@yunhogrippers @strbryjoonie @haram-monbebe @atinism @yvnhoos @st4rhwa @lomons

[666writingcafe]

New Voice Messages (Part Three)

Lucifer

"Hey. I know it's late and you're probably asleep, so you don't have to respond to this right away. I should be asleep, but I keep tossing and turning whenever I try, so I gave up on that hours ago. I'm currently sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the night sky. Well, and recording this message, but that's self-explanatory, I feel. *sighs* Don't mind my rambling. I'm both incredibly tired and slightly tipsy. I finally got around to trying the bottle of Demonus that Diavolo gave us as a housewarming gift, and it's pretty decent. I had a couple glasses of it before coming up here, thinking that it'd help put me to sleep. Obviously, it hasn't, but it was worth trying, I suppose. I at least feel like I can respond to your note without choking on my words or banging my head in frustration. *briefly pauses* Given the way you signed off on it, I'm going to assume that you trust me enough to not abuse your old name. That's also why I'm outside. Less likely to be overheard using it by my brothers. If that's okay with you. If it's not, feel free to tell me off for it the next time we meet. So, MC. *pauses again before lightly singing MC's name* Have I ever told you it's a pretty name? Saying it is comforting somehow. *clears his throat* Sorry. Like I said, I'm a bit drunk."

"Feeling more in control now. Might still ramble a bit, but hopefully not as much as before. *takes a deep breath* The first time I read your note, I ended up crying. Not because you said something wrong, but because it was...sweet? Is that the word I'm looking for? *briefly pauses as a gust of wind gets picked up on the mic* It'll have to do for now, I guess. Anyway...it's interesting how you and Diavolo said more or less the same thing, and yet I'm more inclined to listen to you than I am to him. Perhaps it's the difference in tone? I could definitely tell that he was getting frustrated with me towards the end of our phone call. I know there's a part of him that sees me as a really shiny toy, one that he's quite territorial over. If I were to leave his side, he'd throw a massive fit, I'd imagine, and he might start a war over it. Which is silly. I'm not worth fighting over. *pauses* And yet everyone seems to for some reason. It's like I cause people to lose their minds. I don't know if it's due to the amount of titles and prestige I've had or my physical appearance or something else entirely, but they seem to all go into hysteria after spending any significant amount of time with me. Except for you, MC. You don't care about Lucifer Morningstar, former Lightbringer, Avatar of Pride, yadda yadda yadda. You simply see me as me, if that makes sense. You want to make sure that I'm okay, and you don't expect anything in return. It's a way of repaying back the kindness bestowed upon you in your situation, I suppose. And it'd be cruel of me to ignore all of that and still plunge to my death. So I'm staying. *pauses* You're right. This does feel weird. You better make good on your promise, MC, or I may end up changing my mind again. *chuckles* Don't take that last part too seriously. I'm merely messing with you a bit."

"You know, I wonder what my brothers are thinking about this...offer being made to us. I already know Mammon and Beel would stay, and Belphie's going to do whatever Beel does, but I'm not sure about Levi and Asmo. I mean, you were there when Asmo was yelling at me about leaving the Celestial Realm. Do you think he's eagerly packing his bags as we speak, or--"

A Few Hours Later

"Sorry about the abrupt ending of my last message. Mammon caught me on the rooftop. We ended up talking for a while. *pauses* The two of us have an interesting relationship. Kinda similar to the one I have with Satan. Mammon's sort of my brother and sort of my son, except he didn't spring out of me like Satan did. He's the first angel I felt the need to protect. Everyone else was prepared to throw him away, even though he was merely a child. I couldn't sit back and let them treat him like that, especially not after I held him in my arms as he was crying. He was around the Chihuahua's age when that happened. *clears his throat* I apologize. I know you don't like me calling Luke a chihuahua. I really am trying not to. *pauses* So yeah. Satan's technically the third oldest, since he came into existence in my mind shortly after I took Mammon under my wing. Levi came into the picture when Mammon was a teenager, and the others when he was just becoming a fully-grown angel. *pauses again* It was actually Mammon that insisted that we take care of them, and he was so earnest about it that I couldn't say no. I mean, the fact that he was willing to do for others what I've done for him...I was quite proud of him. Still am, even though he insists on putting on a persona these days. I know deep down, he still cares about everyone. *pauses yet again* Is it weird that I feel comfortable sharing all of this with you, MC? It might be the alcohol still affecting me, but somehow I don't think it is. I...I think I've come to trust you. Completely. I haven't even gotten there with Diavolo yet, and I've known him a lot longer. *chuckles* You truly are special, little lamb. *silence* Shit. That wasn't supposed to be said out loud. I better go before I start calling you more silly nicknames. Good night, MC."

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