#pulling like a merciless tide

[shisasan]

Twin Tribes - Cauldron of Thorns When the flames begin to dance I see the glimmer in your eyes Answers to my prayers Prayers Fallen You 3:28 - or nothing 🔥 𓋹 🖤

[bucksanklescrews]

my hero- e.b. x fem!reader

if someone sets off the fire alarm one more time, its not going to be a false alarm next time (for legal reasons this is a joke)

warnings: fire alarm, kiss

Disoriented and still half-asleep, you blink groggily at the dim, early-morning light filtering through the blinds. The blaring fire alarm, screeching in the hallway, feels like a jackhammer drilling straight into your skull. Squinting, you grope blindly across your bedside table, fingers brushing against your phone, a crumpled tissue, and a half-full water bottle before finally landing on your glasses. You slip them on and wince as the room comes into sharper focus, the bright red glow of the alarm panel on the wall glaring back at you.

Please move to the nearest exits. Do not use the elevators. Fire alarm. Please move to the nearest-

“I get it!” you snap irritably, voice rough with sleep.

The alarm continues, merciless and unyielding, and you groan, pushing yourself upright. Your legs dangle over the side of the bed as you fumble for your shoes, finding only a pair of flimsy sandals by the door. You slip your feet into them, wincing as the straps dig uncomfortably into your socks, but you’re too tired to care. It's just for a few minutes, you reason. Besides, you can’t exactly go barefoot down the grimy dormitory stairwell.

Grabbing your sweatshirt off the back of your chair, you pull it over your head, the fabric muffling the sound of the alarm for a blessed few seconds. Once it’s on, though, the shrill beeping returns, echoing down the hallway as you crack open your door and step into the chaos beyond.

The corridor is a strange mixture of bleary-eyed students in pajamas, hastily thrown-on jackets, and, in some cases, just blankets wrapped around shoulders. They shuffle slowly, some yawning, others clutching phones with expressions of resigned annoyance as they trudge toward the emergency stairwell. You fall into line with them, yawning and rubbing at your eyes as you move with the tide of people heading for the exit.

The stairs are crowded, the steady clomp of slippers, flip-flops, and mismatched shoes creating an oddly synchronized rhythm. No one speaks, each person too wrapped up in their own tired thoughts and irritation, and the silence, punctuated by the occasional cough or sigh, feels almost reverent in a way.

As you reach the bottom floor, you notice the emergency lights casting a dim, ghostly glow over the lobby. The cool morning air hits you the moment you step outside, making you shiver and huddle deeper into your sweatshirt. The campus grounds are filled with clusters of students, all gathered under the dull glow of streetlights, clutching themselves for warmth or checking their phones with annoyed expressions.

Standing there, amidst the crowd of sleepy faces and muffled complaints, you find yourself hoping that whoever set off the alarm regrets it—immensely.

You shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself tighter as you wait impatiently. The thin sweatshirt barely keeps out the chilly morning air, and you can feel it creeping under the cuffs and up your sleeves. As you glance around, half-focused on keeping warm, you catch the sound of giggling from a couple of girls standing a few feet away.

“Oh, here come the firefighters!” one of them whispers, her eyes lighting up. “I hope they're hot!"

The other one snickers, her voice dripping with excitement and anticipation. “Last time, there was this one guy who looked like he walked straight out of a magazine. I’d take another 5 a.m. fire drill if it meant seeing him again.”

Rolling your eyes, you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wondering if the ordeal might at least bring some entertainment. The crowd parts slightly as the firefighters approach, flashlights glinting off their helmets. A few murmurs ripple through the crowd as people crane their necks to get a better look, and some students even take out their phones, subtly aiming their cameras at the approaching crew.

You cross your arms tighter, rubbing your hands along your sleeves to warm up, and glance up just as the first firefighter steps into view. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, a silhouette against the emergency lights, and, you have to admit, he looks every bit the part of the heroic first responder.

“Is it him?” one of the girls whispers excitedly, bouncing on her toes.

The second firefighter comes into view, a slight smile barely visible beneath the brim of his helmet. He catches the giggling girls’ eyes and gives a small, courteous nod. They immediately dissolve into more laughter, and you can’t help but smirk, despite the cold and early hour.

The firefighters begin to walk toward the entrance, and you hear one of them exchange a few words with the building’s RA, who’s standing by with a clipboard, looking every bit as tired as the rest of you. You shift back and forth, impatiently, hoping they��ll wrap this up soon so you can return to bed.

A few moments later, the lead firefighter steps forward, lifting his voice just enough to be heard. “Just bear with us, everyone. We'll have this sorted out as soon as possible."

You smile softly as you make eye contact with Captain Nash. He waves at you, tilting his head like he has something to say. You shuffle through the crowd.

Curiosity piqued, you navigate through the shuffling crowd of students, dodging yawns and half-hearted complaints as you edge closer to Captain Nash. He stands tall and calm amidst the chaos, his presence steadying, like a familiar anchor in the early morning haze. When you finally break free from the crowd and step up to him, he gives you a warm smile, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that’s both reassuring and mildly amused.

“Rough morning, huh?” he asks, voice low enough that only you can hear. He raises an eyebrow, gesturing subtly to your mismatched sandals and socks.

You stifle a chuckle, looking down at your half-asleep fashion statement with a shrug. “Yeah, didn’t think this was worth a full outfit change,” you reply, tugging on the hem of your sweatshirt for emphasis.

He laughs quietly, shaking his head. “No, I think you’re perfectly dressed for the occasion.” He glances over his shoulder as his team works near the building entrance, checking the alarm panel and taking down notes. "Buck's going to want to see you before we leave."

You hum. "I also want to see him. My hero," you say, dryly.

Bobby chuckles, clearly amused by your sarcastic tone. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll love to hear that,” he replies, with a wink. He gestures for you to follow him toward where the rest of his team is stationed by the entrance, and you weave through the crowd behind him.

Buck is easy to spot, standing a little apart from the others as he inspects the control panel with intense focus, his brow furrowed in concentration. You can see him muttering to himself as he examines the wires, utterly absorbed in his task. For a moment, you’re tempted to sneak up on him, but Nash clears his throat, drawing Buck’s attention. He turns, and the moment he sees you, his expression lights up.

“Well, look who finally made it out of bed,” he says, a wide grin spreading across his face. He raises an eyebrow, giving you a quick once-over and pausing at your sock-and-sandal combo. “Stylish as always, I see.”

You cross your arms, trying to keep a straight face. “Yes, I dress exclusively for occasions like these. Nothing but the finest for a 5 a.m. fire alarm.”

Buck laughs, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. “Ah, so you’re just here to admire my work, then?” He gestures grandly to the control panel as if he’s unveiling a work of art. “It’s a wiring malfunction. You were in no real danger, don’t worry.”

“Oh, good,” you reply, feigning relief. “I was ready to nominate you for a medal of bravery.”

“Only a medal?” Buck teases, pretending to look wounded. “I thought ‘hero of the year’ was more my speed.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you. “Alright, ‘hero of the year.’ Thanks for getting us out of bed and saving us from… an empty hallway.”

He grins, clearly pleased with himself, and leans in a little, lowering his voice. He passes you a small hand warmer. “Next time, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know if it’s a real emergency. Scout’s honor.”

“Oh, I feel so safe now,” you reply, laughing.

Captain Nash watches the two of you with a fond smile before finally breaking in. “Alright, you two, that’s enough flirting in the cold. Let’s let them get back inside.” He gives you a light nudge toward the entrance.

As you pull Buck into the small inlet by the Residence Hall Director’s office, the hum of chatter fades slightly, giving you both a rare moment of privacy amidst the chaos. His hands find your waist, steady and warm, and he leans in to press a quick, soft kiss to your lips. The kiss is gentle, a brief but familiar connection that melts some of the lingering chill from the early morning.

You smile, patting his arm affectionately. “I’ll call you when your shift’s over, hero.”

His grin widens, a hint of boyish pride lighting up his expression. “I’ll hold you to that.” With a final squeeze, he lets you slip past him, giving you space to rejoin the stream of students filing back into the building.

As you make your way toward the stairs, you can’t help glancing back just once to see him standing by the entrance, watching you with that same, soft smile lingering on his face. Turning forward, you find yourself sandwiched between the same two girls from earlier, still whispering to each other with barely-concealed excitement. You’re only a few steps up when you feel their eyes on you, glancing back and forth between you and the doorway where Buck’s still visible.

You try to focus on the climb, but you catch snippets of their hushed conversation, and it’s clear they’re talking about you.

“Did you see that?” one of them whispers, her tone tinged with awe. “She just kissed him! That’s her boyfriend! We need to be friends with her.”

“Shut up,” the other one murmurs, giggling. “He’s a firefighter! And did you see how he looked at her? Like, that’s movie-level romance.”

You bite back a smile, pretending not to notice as they fall into a fit of muffled giggles. The warmth from the hand warmer Buck gave you still lingers in your pocket, and for a moment, you don’t mind the climb or the chill. The girls’ words trail off, replaced by soft sighs and faint giggles as they shuffle up behind you, but you can still feel the amused, almost envious glances they cast your way.

As you finally reach your floor, one of the girls gives you a little nudge, her face lighting up with genuine excitement. “You know, that was seriously cute. I’d get out of bed early for a guy like that.”

You chuckle, shrugging as you make your way to your door. “It has its perks,” you admit, smiling to yourself as you close the door and finally, blissfully, crawl back into bed.

[necrotic-nephilim]

"I think you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to." - JayTim

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

god this one is so good. this idea just. sat in my brain goo for days until i had the time to write it. this takes place like. right around Search For A Hero and before Battle for the Cowl, i would say, with dead Bruce and all, but before Red Robin. very fucked up one-sided feelings bc Jason is Jason and i love him. it's like 3.6k words and my partner edited it for me so. enjoy <3

It took Tim longer than it should’ve to notice the change.

With Bruce gone, Gotham was in upheaval.

No matter how much Tim did, there was always more. A new villain to fight, a new gang to take down, a new murder to solve. Gotham knew that the Batman was gone, for good this time.

Which meant they knew someone, something, could kill Batman.

That made Tim the fresh meat to go after. If the Batman could be killed, it shouldn’t be any harder to take down his Robin. Tim knew that every villain would want a piece of him and he had to prove himself. And for a while, he did. Tim was personally targeted by rogues, ready to be the Joker to his Robin.

Then it changed.

No one was pulling their punches, necessarily. But there was a change. Gangs that once had no problem facing Tim down were running in the opposite direction. Rogues gave up too easily, with an amount of fear in their eyes that didn’t quite match Tim’s reputation.

He should’ve noticed it sooner.

Tim knew something was wrong, at least. But he’d been so slow to notice it; now he was scrambling for answers. He’d interrogated half a dozen thugs and none of them gave him anything. Tim used every trick Bruce had taught him and still. He had nothing. It was just confirmation that they were hiding something. He was missing something, and he had nothing to show for it.

It reminded Tim of how the tide receded right before a tsunami- a quiet, deadly calm rolled over Gotham.

Someone was pulling strings. Someone was going right over Tim’s head, probably planning a big attack to sweep Tim undertow to drown in the chaos. And Tim didn’t have a single lead.

Waiting was always the worst part.

And still, the fires in Gotham burned. Whatever was going on kept getting pushed to the back burner so Tim could stop everything from human trafficking rings to street muggings. He knew he was stretched too thin, too exhausted to hold himself up.

It was a matter of time before Tim got pulled into a merciless riptide.

He just didn’t expect it to be in some grimy alley, losing a fight to a second-rate mob that jumped him.

Tim should’ve gone back to the Batcave when his shoulder got dislocated an hour ago by Harley Quinn instead of just setting it and carrying on.

He should’ve called for backup an hour before that, when he had to face all the Gotham Sirens on his own, leading to the chase with Harley in the first place.

And he definitely should’ve stayed home from patrol altogether, with ribs that were still cracked from a run-in with Solomon Grundy less than a week ago.

But Tim didn’t do any of that. Because if he was going to carry on any part of Bruce’s legacy, it was this: fighting until his body gave out under him.

Tim just hoped if this mob killed him, they wouldn’t dump his body somewhere embarrassing.

Though it was starting to look less like if, and more like when. Tim didn’t like to be pessimistic in a fight. There was always something more to do, one final trick to pull out of his arsenal. Just like Bruce taught him.

This time, though. Tim wasn’t so sure about that.

There was blood in his mouth. Blood in his eyes. He could barely stand, let alone hold his bo staff. It took every ounce of worn-out effort to block the endless blows raining down on his battered body, let alone try to punch back.

Tim always figured he’d meet a violent end.

He wasn’t sure where his comm link had skittered off to. It got knocked out of his ear under a particularly vicious blow to the head, cutting Tim off from any hope of backup. He was in this one alone.

Someone kneed Tim in his already brutalized ribs. He doubled over and groaned, falling to the ground.

He needed to get back up.

Tim’s arms were too shaky to support his weight. He just collapsed again. A steel-toed boot was raised above his head, ready to come down. Tim just closed his eyes and covered his head as best he could with his hands. Better broken fingers than a broken skull.

The boot never connected.

Instead, Tim heard gunfire.

He knew some of the men had guns, but this was a different kind of gunfire. The automatic kind, coming from a different direction. All Tim could do was watch with wide eyes as his attackers started to drop like flies tinged with red.

The ones who managed to survive the first volley of bullets were scrambling around, yelling at each other in a foreign language. Russian, maybe? It was hard for Tim to tell with his head swimming from blood loss, eardrums pulsing to the infernal beat.

From the darkness, a figure jumped down, landing in front of Tim, holding an automatic rifle over their shoulder. Tim blinked hard, trying to make out who it was.

“I only gave you miserable fucks one rule,” a cold voice growled. “Who wants to remind me what it was?”

Damnit. Tim knew that voice.

He was beyond screwed.

All the men froze. Stuttered apologies and pleas came out of half of them, messy and incoherent. They all sounded positively terrified, cowering in front of the figure.

“We didn’t know it was-”

“-just wanted to scare him-”

“He came to our territory first-”

“-but we weren’t going to kill him-”

Jason Todd fired a few shots into the sky, silencing all of them. Tim swallowed a mouthful of blood, his own heart reverberating against copper-stained teeth.

“I asked what the rule was,” Jason repeated slowly. He cracked his neck and pulled a knife off his belt, flipping it around for show.

One of the men was brave enough to step forward. “No one’s allowed to touch Robin. Sir.”

Tim’s breath caught in his throat.

What the hell?

Jason nodded slowly. “And last I checked-” he made a show of turning back to look at Tim. Under the helmet, Tim couldn’t begin to guess Jason’s intentions. “-there’s only one kid with a big R on his chest fighting with a bo staff. I was being pretty generous with all of you. Protection from the cops, from other gangs. All for one fucking rule.”

“Why are you protecting him, anyway? Vigilante freaks cause us nothing but problems-”

The man’s yelling was abruptly cut off by the bang of Jason’s gun and his brains splattering across the alleyway. A smear of pink landed on his bo staff; there was no coming back from that one.

“I guess I should’ve had two rules. No touching Robin and no asking questions,” Jason hummed lazily, as if he hadn’t just taken a man’s life. He shrugged. “I’ll add it to the tab.” He reloaded the gun.

Tim grabbed Jason’s ankle. “Don’t…” he coughed up a mouthful of blood, “don’t kill them.” It was pathetic. He could hold his own in a fight against Jason. He had before. But now, Tim couldn’t even stand and was left with barely enough strength to even grab Jason.

Like shooing away an insolent child, Jason pulled his leg free and clicked his tongue at Tim. “I’ll get to you in a second. Wait your turn.”

Then, he let loose. And there was nothing Tim could do but watch in horror.

Jason tore through every single one of the men like paper. their bodies dropped one by one because instead of the gun, Jason jumped in with his knife. For the fun of the fight, Tim guessed. Because it definitely sounded like Jason was enjoying himself, flipping through the crowd and throwing out a vile quip now and then.

In seconds, it was over. A pile of bodies with Jason as the indisputable victor, wiping his bloody knife off on his jacket. He walked over to Tim, perfectly casual.

Maybe he was saving Tim for the finale, to be killed by Jason’s own hand around his neck. That was the only reason Tim could think of for Jason being the reason rogues had pulled back so much over the past few weeks. Jason wanted Tim’s blood for himself, so he could make some kind of statement out of killing Robin. Or something like that, anyway.

“Up we go,” Jason said with a grunt, leaning over to Tim up like a sack of potatoes. Tim was hauled up with Jason’s hands under his armpits, then tossed over Jason’s shoulder, with an arm supporting him around his thighs.

At least the dead bodies couldn’t judge Tim for how utterly embarrassing he must’ve looked.

“Put me down,” Tim tried to say, but the words were so slurred they sounded like one long syllable. His head was spinning. Tim had heard of double vision, but never triple. Was that a bad sign??

“It’s pronounced thank you, actually,” Jason said, walking off with Tim in tow. Each step made all of Tim’s injuries feel far worse and he hissed, uselessly trying to claw at Jason’s back, the material of his gloves squeaking pathetically. “As in, thank you for saving my sorry ass, Red Hood.”

“Fuck you,” Tim sputtered. He was getting blood all over Jason’s jacket and it was the only thing he could see, as his vision got more tunneled by the second. “Where are you…” everything hurt and consciousness was slipping away from Tim.

Jason said something. Tim didn’t hear it. His hands went slack, followed by the rest of Tim’s body.

His last coherent thought was a long string of expletives cursing Jason Todd out.

It took over a liter of blood to stabilize Tim. Stitches on his arm, stomach, and forehead littered his battered body. He was still unconscious on Jason’s coffee table, with a makeshift IV drip giving him fluids, stripped down to his boxers.

Jason was torn between being supremely pissed off at Tim getting jumped and being sickly fascinated by the sight of Tim being bruised and bloody. Perfectly laid out for Jason.

Maybe he should’ve thanked that Russian mob before killing them.

Jason knew it was just a matter of time before that mob caused him issues. They were no real loss to his empire. He was lucky he caught them in the act before it was too late.

One simple rule and some idiots went out of their way to ignore it.

Tim was Jason’s meat and no one else’s. Jason hadn’t been ready to mark his territory yet. This sped up his plan. There were so many steps Jason had to skip to save Tim. He had been waiting for Gotham’s trust in Robin to grow secure and rooted down, putting Tim on top of the world. Then a new Batman would step up, probably Dick. It’d leave Tim aimless and vulnerable, quickly forgotten by his city the moment they had someone in a Batsuit to worship instead.

And that was supposed to be the moment Jason swooped in and claimed Tim. Protecting him from all the big mean supervillains who were salivating for Tim’s blood that Jason had been holding back for so long.

He would be Tim’s fucking savior.

But a no-name Russian mob had to go and screw it up. Leaving Jason sitting on his couch, feet propped up on the same coffee table Tim was sprawled out on. Every now and then Jason nudged Tim with his boot, just to check how out cold he really was.

The latest boot nudge to Tim’s hip actually got him to stir.

Tim groaned, trying to move. His attempt to sit up failed pretty spectacularly. His arm gave out and he slipped, head loudly bonking on the coffee table. With the concussion he definitely had, that had to hurt like hell. Jason smirked, lighting a cigarette. Another pretty groan out of Tim’s mouth before he managed to open his eyes, blinking hard to adjust to his surroundings.

Jason didn’t rush him. He just watched as Tim looked around the safehouse, craning his neck. He ran his hands over his body, feeling the neat bandage work. Finally, his eyes settled on Jason, widening slightly. Jason could see the wheels turning in Tim’s bright mind, remembering what had happened.

Tim opened and closed his mouth a few times, presumably trying to decide where to start. Jason took a long drag and blew the smoke in the direction of Tim’s face, making him cough.

“Why?” Tim finally said. His voice sounded a little raw.

Jason arched an eyebrow, playing innocent. “Why what?”

“You know what,” Tim snapped. He gestured to himself. “Why are you… doing this? Telling everyone I’m off limits and…”

“And saving you?” Jason finished, earning him a lethal glare. About as lethal as a kicked puppy could be, anyway. Jason snorted and shrugged. “Because I can.” No point in sharing a plan that was all fucked up.

“I don’t need your help,” Tim said through gritted teeth. He tried to sit up, slower this time. He still didn’t manage it.

Jason stared at him. “I’m sorry, would you have preferred Nightwing scrap what was left of you off the pavement after those asshats were through with you?”

“I can fight my own battles.”

“And lose them too. Clearly.”

An angry noise came out of Tim’s throat. “Did you just want to save me for yourself, or something?” Tim prodded, fist clenched at his side.

“Probably not in the way you’re thinking,” Jason said. He flicked ashes off of his cigarette onto Tim’s skin, pulling a hiss out of him.

Tim frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Figure it out yourself. Isn’t detective work your whole thing?” Jason made a show of adjusting how he was sitting on the couch as if he was getting comfortable. He moved to prop his feet up on Tim’s leg, one of the few places on his body that wasn’t covered in injuries. Using him like a little footstool.

Oh, that really pissed Tim off. Jason grinned wickedly, watching Tim try and fail to pull himself free. There wasn’t much weight on his leg, but he was still too weak to get his body to cooperate, leaving him to sluggishly struggle.

Tim’s face twisted. “If you think you could convince me to be your sidekick, you’re out of your mind.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a lap dog, actually,” Jason tilted his head back. “Much more submissive and obedient, that way.” He didn’t hide the obvious innuendo in his voice.

Tim recoiled. “Very funny.”

“I’m dead serious,” Jason shot back. “I don’t kill for just anyone.” Contrary to popular belief, murder was purposeful, with Jason. If he killed a lot of people, it was for a specific reason. It was a careful image of the unstable madman to make people fear him. But in reality, it was all planned. Every single body in the grave was carefully counted.

“You’re psychotic if you think I’d ever… submit to you.” Tim’s mouth twisted just having to say the words, utterly disgusted by them.

Jason scoffed. “I think there’s a misunderstanding here, Drake.” He pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket, flipping it open. “You already belong to me. Every criminal in Gotham knows you’re mine. You’re alive because I’ve allowed it. You’re protected because I called for it. It’s a done fucking deal.” He took his feet off of Tim’s leg and brought them to the floor so he could lean up close to Tim’s pale face. “Understood?”

Like a perfectly rational person, Tim tried to headbutt Jason.

Jason pulled back, more for Tim’s sake than his own. He caught Tim’s head with his hand, forcing it back down on the table.

“I didn’t ask for your protection,” Tim hissed, breathing hard. “You can go to hell, Jason. I can handle this city just fine on my own.”

“I don’t really care if you can or not.” Jason pressed the knife to Tim’s throat, a dangerous warning against any more stupid attempts to fight Jason. “You can be Robin all you want. You can crawl back home to that disgusting cave and play house with all the other bats. I don’t give a shit how you live your life, Drake. So long as you know you’re mine at the end of the day-” he shrugged- “we can take all this slow. I was planning to anyway.”

“You were planning to…” Tim echoed, turning the words over as it sank in for him. “You were planning… what? To make me fall in love with you or something?”

Jason gave another nonchalant shrug. “If that’s how you want to dumb it down, sure.” The plan was far more sophisticated than that. Jason didn’t just need Tim to love him. He needed Tim to crave Jason, need him down to the marrow, and dedicate himself wholly to Jason. Be by Jason’s side as a strategist and partner.

They would get there eventually. Soon Tim would see and understand things from Jason’s perspective. His approach just needed to be a little more head-on.

More fun for Jason in the long run.

It was hard to read Tim’s expression. Maybe Jason was too hopeful to believe there could be some kind of arousal or intrigue there, but he could at least tell there wasn’t nearly as much anger as he expected.

Nor was there any disgust.

For a split second, anyway. Then Tim seemed to snap back to reality, trying to pull away from Jason and the knife.

“Over my dead body,” Tim said with as much venom as it seemed like he could muster.

“You know, I’ll do you a favor, Drake.” Jason lifted one leg over the table so he could sit on Tim’s midsection, making him yell in pain. Jason was a heavy son of a bitch, and his body weight did no favor for Tim’s sore ribs.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tim tried to shove Jason’s chest. He looked a little panicked, like a caged animal.

“I think,” Jason dragged out the words, just for show, “you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to. So I’ll be nice, to make sure you don’t forget it.”

He grabbed Tim’s jaw and jerked his head to the side. Tim cried out and tried to get away. He hit Jason in the chest as hard as he could. Which given his current state, was about the same as being smacked by a toddler.

“You should probably stay still if you don’t want a knife in your eye,” Jason warned. He lifted the blade and pressed it into Tim’s cheek, going deep enough to scar.

He didn’t even have to think about it. Jason knew exactly what he was doing the moment he pressed the blade to Tim’s skin.

A mark that anyone would recognize.

A mark just like the one Jason had been given, years ago.

The letter J could stand for a lot of things. And right now, it stood for marking Tim as Jason’s territory.

Jason dragged the knife down and curled it upward. Then he went in for the second cut, dragging across Tim’s cheek.

Tim had the sense to stay perfectly still while the blade moved. Pained noises came out of his throat and he was giving Jason a death stare, but he stayed still.

A perfectly obedient lap dog.

Jason hummed in satisfaction when his work was done. He flicked the knife closed and slipped it back into his belt, watching fresh blood pour down Tim’s face.

Now they matched.

For good measure, Jason bent over and pressed a kiss against the cut, holding his lips there and feeling Tim’s breath on his skin.

Jason pulled away, licking the blood off his mouth. His first time tasting Tim. It definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m going to kill you,” Tim bit the words out through grit teeth.

Jason just smiled. “Don’t you have pesky bat morals about that?” He climbed off Tim, flicking more ashes onto Tim’s skin from the cigarette that had stayed between Jason’s fingers the whole time. He lifted it to his lips, breathing in. “Your suit is over there.” Jason gestured vaguely to the heaped pile of Tim’s suit.

“You’re-” Tim sputtered on his words. “You’re just going to let me leave?”

“I told you,” Jason hummed, wandering toward his fridge, “you can go live your life. I don’t care. You’ll crawl back to me when I want you to.”

“Like hell.” A loud grunt came from Tim and Jason looked over his shoulder, watching Tim slowly move. Every inch looked painful for Tim, but slowly, he managed to get his stiff joints to obey him.

All while Jason watched, offering absolutely no help.

Tim got dressed with a lot of swearing and groans of pain, occasionally shooting Jason a dirty look. He put a small bandage on his cheek, then limped away, leaving behind the shreds of his dignity.

Jason just smiled, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out on the floor with his heel.

Tim would be back. He would make damn sure of it.

[feyhunter78]

Among The Sun

Description: The Conqueror, the Ravager of Lands, He who deals in blood and war. Emperor Miguel and his armies have scoured the land, and now they have set their sights on your kingdom. Will you fall to the Demonborn's blade, or will a strange connection between you and Miguel turn the tides of fate? Ch 2

The castle is abuzz with gossip and fear, words passed along in secret, gates closed, doors bolted. You press your back to the wall, the heavy curtain hiding you from the servants passing by. No one will tell you anything, simply bid you to dress and make yourself presentable as if there was to be a banquet, or a ball, not a potential siege.

“I’ve heard he’s coming from the West, that he set fire to the River Atraites, that his men—his armies of demons marched upon the flames.” One says, her voice hushed and filled with fear.

“No, he is coming from the East, the mountains bowed to him and allowed him passage through.” Another whispers, stronger but still afraid.

The Conqueror, the Ravager of Lands, He who deals in blood and war. He would be arriving soon if the rumors were to be believed, and you are no fool, you believe them.

You don’t know much about the Conqueror, your only information comes from rumors or war reports, neither of which are helpful. The rumors come from pleasurehouses, fanciful tales of the emperor storming in, scouring the establishment and searching for a woman with y/h/c hair and y/e/c eyes. If one cannot be found, he is said to destroy the place, leaving terrifying claw marks and scorched bodies in his wake. If one can be found, the rumors say her cries of pleasure can be heard throughout the town and that she emerges from the encounter with only faint pleasant memories.

The war reports tell a different tale. They speak of him as merciless, tearing through men as if they are parchment, his armies moving as a perfect unit, no breaks, no faults, only skilled, relentless ruin. He is said to have claws and fangs, some say he has horns like a ram, and his eyes glow crimson. He is a terrifying sight to behold, half monster, half man, an abomination that has set half the continent ablaze.

You wait until their footsteps pass then slip from behind the curtain, hurrying down the hall to the throne room where your father, mother, and three brothers are set to gather. Instead, you stumble upon a horrid scene. Your father and brothers lie on the marble floor, bloodied and unmoving, your mother is draped over your eldest brother’s body, wailing wretchedly.

“Traitors to the crown, they have done this.” She shrieks, clinging to his body.

You’re frozen, staring at the carnage before you. True, you had no real fondness for your eldest brother, the gap between your ages was too far to bridge, but the others at least made an effort.

“What—what are we to do? Mother, you are queen, the Conqueror will be here, he will offer you what he offers every other window, you must be prepared.” You tell her, rushing to her side and attempting to pull her from your brother’s body.

She refuses to budge, shrugging you off. “I will not, he will not come here, we have nothing to offer.”

Your kingdom is not small, in fact it’s quite large, a port town, but your mother is right, it holds nothing that the Conqueror doesn’t already have. He has already captured the agricultural kingdoms, the larger trade kingdoms, and those who boast their stores of wealth and gems. His own lands that far-flung empire that declared him ruler after a bloody and horrid event, is rich in resources, the soil, and cities still boasting the remnants of Arcana. It is a wealthy and powerful force, wielded like an obsidian sword by the Conqueror.

“You do not know that, please, either we stay, and you take up your crown, or we flee to the ships.” You’re tugging on her arm, already formulating an escape route. But would you make it in time?

Your mother says nothing, only continues to weep and holds out her hand for her fallen crown. She has made her choice; she will doom you both to die here.

Your kingdom has fallen, the gates forced open, the crowns of your father and brothers thrown to the ground, their bodies lying beside them. There is no time to clean the throne room, you’ve received the reports, the Conqueror is mere minutes away.

The emperor is cruel, monstrous, a vile, wicked man who care only for conquest. You have heard the rumors, the whispers as his armies march across the lands, leaving death and destruction in their wake. And now he would be coming here, to give your mother the very same choice he gave to each former queen. Bend the knee, pay tribute, or watch your kingdom burn. Dozens of kingdoms have refused and burned, but your mother is not a warrior, she weeps over your father and brothers, laments their loss as your kingdom crumbles around you.

When the Conqueror comes, you fear the choice she will make, fear the rumors of the horrors that await those kingdoms gifted to the murderous emperor. You do not wish for your land to become a territory of the ravager, a sacrifice to the blood-soaked demon, Miguel the Conqueror, the Relentless, the Merciless, but you fear your mother will have no choice.

Miguel is bored, his fingers tangled in the hair of another whore as she moans, her face shoved into the pillows as she helplessly tries to fuck back on him. He has her bent over the bed, thrusting mindlessly as he starts out the window at this kingdom’s castle.

She is skilled, he will not deny it, but Miguel doesn’t simply desire skill, he desires the woman from his memories and dreams.

He lets out a long sigh and closes his eyes trying to picture you, his soulmate, his horizon, with your soft skin and stunning smile, the lilt of your voice, your tantalizing smell. He groans as the image forms, crystalline fractured fantasies, flashes of you, snatches of memories.

“Fuck, mi vida, you feel so good, wonderful, you are wonderful, my empress.” He sighs, his free hand settling on your—the whore’s hip, steadying himself before he pounds into her, picturing how pretty you’d look, grasping at the silken sheets he’s procured for you, whining as he smooths a hand down your spine.

You’d be so sweet for him, clinging to him as he fucks you, your pretty eyes fluttering closed, your lips parted so perfectly. He misses when he would see you in his dreams, when he would hold you for a moment before you disappeared like sand slipping through his fingers. Now all he sees when he sleeps is darkness, exhaustion hitting him like a horse.

“Please, Your Majesty, harder.” She begs, lifting her head from the mattress.

Her voice rips him from his fantasy, and he pulls out, tucking himself back into his breeches. “I asked you not to speak.”

She looks back at him, and he regrets not compelling her. She looks so much like you, the closest he’s found, but he shouldn’t have taken the chance.

He grabs her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You will remember none of this, only that you did your job and was paid handsomely for it.”

She nods, her shoulders drooping, eyes glazing over as his spell takes hold.

Miguel sighs and arranges her comfortably on the bed before leaving more than enough gold for her rudimentary services.

As he trudges down the stairs of the brothel, he’s met by his advisor, Lyla. She’s still in full armor except for those oddly shaped glasses that cover her eyes.

“It’s time.” She says, nodding towards the door.

Another kingdom to burn or capture, another fruitless search. Have the gods not dammed him enough? Have they not stricken him with this unholy visage, with these demonic powers, with a life of misery and death? You, you are the one he searches for, in your arms he will finally find rest, and if not, he will ensure it is so. There will be no kingdom for you to run to, no lands untouched by him, no bounty great enough to pull you from him, no powers beyond the divine will separate you, and even then, he has always desired to fight the gods.

He will offer this kingdom’s queen the choice he offers all others, waiting as they cower in fear, his eyes searching their court for you. But you are never there, and his anger only grows.

Perhaps this time will be different? Gabi would be fond of this land, would enjoy the flowers and streams. He prays that is a good sign.

TL: @not-aya, @belos-simp69, @deputy-videogamer, @sxnasbitch, @maxi-ride, @minimari415, @syndrlla97, @gejo333, @lady-necromancer

[killmeprettypleasee]

EVERYTHING'S ALRIGHT..

This was requested by @xweirdo101x! Thanks sjiqoqkqnjeiebdvdbjs anyways enjoy<33

Warning: kidnapping, rape ment, gangbang, bondage, hint of mind breaking, mentions of double pent, comforted angst, mentions of PTSD, 141 comforting reader.

You woke up with a soft groan when you felt your head hurting like hell you couldn't remember anything before you got here.. the only thing you remembered is that you were assigned in a solo mission to get some information from the current enemy.

You noticed you hands were tide up with a rope attached to the ceiling, and the room was dark but accompanied by a small light bulb at the top.

Hissing at the pain in your wrist you can tell you've been here for like hours from how your wrist stings badly from the ropes.

A small gasp left your lips when you so a shadowy figure going up to you, as you walked up to your frame a large grin was a bit visible from the small lighting at the top "seems your awake now.. we've benn waiting" he said.. his body frame towering over your small frame. You cant help but let put a whimper.

He made you look up to him by lifting you head up by the chin and gripped it nice and tightly, you felt eyes on you as 4 people went out of the shadows. Their big figure towers you aswell.

Surprisingly the man behind you pulled you pants down and the man from the side helping him and take your gear off, you gasp in distress and tried to shake them away but sadly you head strikes up a sting making you stop your movements and panted heavily from how your head hurts badly.

Your bottom now naked and shown, slowly hands snaked down your ass groping them in a steel like grip making you let out a small whine and this made the man in front chuckled darkly.

You shivered when something cold and slick glides on your ass and went inside you making your body shook, mercilessly the finger shoves itself inside and began thrusting in and out and soon as that, a 2 more fingers got shoved inside and a painful cry passed through your lips as tears dripped down your eyes.

You cried helplessly from the pain, as the fingers violated your hole. Another hand slide down to your dick and began palming it, you bit your bottom lip trying not to let out any type of sound that would leave your mouth.

The fingers inside you finally left leaving you all empty and loose so it could take their cocks the hand on your cocks aswell left your touch all weeping and leaking pre, but they weren't finished yet.

Hands gripped your waist and felt something hard near your hole. You began to panic and shake him off but again.. Failed.

He suddenly shoved his cock inside making you arch your back and scream in pain as tears slowly flow down your eyes, he started to move in and out at a rough pace making you hic out a moan and whimper from how he pounded into you. The pain was unbearable from how huge his member was but pleasurable aswell.

"S-stop! Stop please!" You choked out from your quivering lips begging the man behind to stop, you gripped onto the ropes that tide your wrist when you felt your legs quiver then went limp. You swore you could feel your mind slip to oblivion from his merciless pounding.

The one infront, the man you talked to earlier lifts your legs up and smiled sadistically at you, the thrusting stopped to let him line his cock and rammed it inside and hit your prostate straight on making you see stars. Tears rolled down ypur puffy red eyes as you cried helplessly in their hold.

The feeling of two of their cocks ramming inside cant but feel so full of them, you swore your hole would be loose and stretched out after this. You feel such pleasure fro. Having 2 cocks inside your innards it felt to good, yu gave up fighting and let the use you like nothing but a little cockslut.

You noticed their thrust became sloppy, you whimpered and knew they were close.. "not i-inside please.." you cried softly but they just mocked you, the one from behind gripped your waist and the one infront gripped your thighs, both in a steel grip and shot their seed inside making you so full, you can feel some of it dribble down your thighs qnd it made your head dizzy.

They then take it out and leaving you leaking and head dizzy, yir weeping cock still leaked with pre.. you felt you were passed to the other, you looked up and was greeted with a big grin from the man above you, he held your thighs and lined himself up near your hole "p-please no more.." you pleaded weakly.

You whimper and gripped you hands on his shoulder feeling him push inside, some of the cum that was inside you leaked out when he pushed in and go down your thighs, you panted heavily trying to steady your breathing and he began thrusting inside at a animalistic pace and suddenly you let out a loud long moan of surprise and arched your back when he hit something inside that made you came all over yourself.

He grinned and gripped on your thighs more tighter and fucked you over and over again making sure to hit your prostate roughly, you cried from the feeling. It was to much to bare with and you lolled your head back.

The feeling of his cock hitting your prostate roughly made your head spin, you felt a tight knot in your tummy making your back cringe from the pleasure and tears fall, you regretted taking a solo mission.. you wish you didn't accepted it... But you have no choice but have your legs spread by your nappers and use you like a fucking Fleshlight.

Then hands start to wonder around you waist and caressed you dick with their fingers, they began jacking you off, you cant help but thrust you hips forward but end up having your dick gripped in a tight hold making you mewl out a whine.

Your head began to fall but was catched by someone else, and then a hard throbbing cock filled your vision "open up slut" you shook your head but when the guy fucking your ass shoved in in the most rough way it made you gasp out and tears fall, he quickly shoved his dick in your mouth making you gagged on his big cock.

The feeling of both your holes filled made stuffed to the brim and tear up uncontrollably..

This took for hours.. getting passed from one to another and getting your holes fucked again and again, this went on for days and you dont know if you could handle it anymore, your ass hole now stretched making an O shape as cum drip out glistening your thighs and the floor, you panted with your head resting on the floor with your tears staining dark puddles on the floor.

2 of the men stared at you and and 1 of them spit at your back and both left.. leaving you there in the dark, it was silent.. but not for long.. you heard gun fire and yelling outside the door. You tried to get up but failed, then you heard the door smashed open and dark figures of people that look quite familiar.

"(Callsign)!!" A Scottish accent yelled out from a man and ran up to you.. your eyes slowly get heavier and fainted as darkness consumed you.

You woke up, you hissed as a bright light cover your vision and covered your eyes with your arm.

"(callsign)! Your finally awake!" A voice yeld by the side and you looked to see who owns the voice, it was Price and he quickly hugged you tightly and embraced you.

Your eyes widen and began to break down and cried against gis chest, all the team hurried in seeing you both and Price hugging. You were shaking badly, scared and afraid, Price held you close to him and assuring you're okay now.. safe with them and theyre gonna take care of you.

Price looked at you with big worry and concern on your face and gently rubbed your back, he can see the fear and trauma in your eyes and it hurts him so much.. he regretted letting you go on a solo mission, he regretted everything that happened to you.

"im so sorry.. it must be alot to handle, i so sorry" he held you tightly in his arms as Soap rubbed your back comfortingly "must be scary aye.." Soap said softly behind.. suddenly a flash trained to your eyes and pushed Price away by insticts making him back off, the trauma was to much and you were breaking down and tears filled your vision.

"Y/n... Are you?" Gaz slowly approached but Ghost stopped him and told to leave you alone for awhile.. Soap step away giving you time to breath and calm down "i-im sorry.." you whimpered softly under your breath as your hands shake, Ghost let out a soft sigh "its okay.. its just us" he said in a calm manner making you look up to him i teary eyes "this is gonna be a long time.. Everything's Alright now.." Priced said sorrowfully...

IM SO SORRY I HAVE TO END IT HERE MY PHONES AT 3 %😭 i think this is the longest fic I ever made but do really hope you enjoy! Thank you<333😫

[andrea-writer]

Name: Asteria "Cassandra" Morozova.

Meaning of the name: Asteria- Goddess of falling stars and nocturnal divination

Nicknames: Star

Occupation: Freshman at Yale University, specializing in Pre-Med: Psychology.

Hamartia: Overreach.

Main routes: M or C.

For you, I would cross the line I would waste my time I would lose my mind They say, "She's gone too far this time"

( Power is magnetic.)

Asteria "Cassandra" Morozova is a constellation of contrasts, a figure who embodies both celestial grace, and siren-like cunning. Her personality is akin to the moon—a radiant beacon in the night sky with an enigmatic dark side hidden from view. Her outer self is friendly and approachable, her demeanor warm and engaging with those she favors. Yet, there is an aloofness to her charm, a deliberate barrier that guards the deeper, more intricate facets of her being. She wears her charisma like armor, disarming others with her glowing smile, but the moment someone breaches her carefully drawn lines, she transforms, revealing a side as cold and unyielding as the moon’s shadowed craters.

Her ability to balance sarcasm with moments of genuine sincerity makes her a magnetic presence. Her sharp wit is as mesmerizing as blue fire—a beauty to behold yet undeniably dangerous. Asteria’s boldness enhances this allure, drawing people into her orbit, but this boldness is tempered by cautious calculation. She walks a fine line between risk and strategy, weighing every move to ensure it aligns with her ultimate ambitions. She isn’t impulsive unless the situation calls for decisive action; even then, her decisions are shaped by the finely tuned intuition that feels more like a sixth sense, a gift that allows her to perceive subtleties others might miss.

Her confidence leans toward arrogance, but this is not without merit. Asteria knows her worth and the power she wields, seeing herself as the architect of her destiny. Her ambition often outpaces her humility, though, and this relentless drive is her greatest strength and her fatal flaw. Overreach—her hamartia—is a constant threat, pushing her to the edges of morality and sanity in her pursuit of greatness. She aspires to touch the sun, but she believes she can overcome anything in her way and reach her goals.

Comparing Asteria to the moon reveals her dichotomy. The moon, luminous and serene, holds a darkness that the world never sees, much like her hidden ruthlessness. For those fortunate enough to earn her loyalty, she is all smiles and warmth, offering protection as steadfast as the moonlight guiding travelers through the night. But cross her, and her transformation is immediate—her warmth turns to an icy blaze, her sarcasm cutting, her wrath merciless. She burns as blue fire does, a rare and beautiful phenomenon, incinerating all who dare harm her or those she loves.

She is not only ambitious but also strategic, balancing her pragmatic outlook with emotional depth. She thrives on human connections and experiences, yet her curiosity and hunger for power often eclipse her softer traits. Like the moon governs the tides, she exerts an almost gravitational pull over others, drawing them in while maintaining the mystery of her darker self. In this duality lies her essence—a being of transformation, freedom, and wisdom, whose beauty and brilliance mask the thorns she cultivated in her relentless pursuit of the stars.

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

Asteria Morozova (My OC) in the incredible story of @childrenofcain-if ! Secret society, romance, suspense and mystery. I am hooked and obsessed... Can't wait for more.

[littlefireball]

ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄ ᴡɪᴘ (24/9-12/10)

(a/n: if you wanna to be added in the tag list, feel free to cm/dm/inbox me~thx)

ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ -- ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ(ᴍ) (24/9)

ᴘɪʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ꜰᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ)

Summary: The tranquil existence was shattered today by the merciless pirates. You surrendered to the overwhelming tide of despair, letting it engulf you. Yet, in that moment of darkness, a figure emerged to rescue you. But is this hero a beacon of hope or a harbinger of doom?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ -- ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴄᴀᴛᴄʜᴇʀ (ᴍ/ᴀ) (26/9)

ᴇxᴏʀᴄɪꜱᴛ (ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴀꜱꜱᴀꜱꜱɪɴ) ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ɴɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

Write about a dream assassin who is tasked with fighting a nightmare that disturb people's sleep.

Summary: As an exorcist, your mission was clear: eliminate the demon. Yet, destiny had other plans. You found yourself captivated by him. Even after vanquishing his true essence, his spirit lingered within you, refusing to be forgotten. The only way to find peace was to confront him once more. But could you summon the strength to do it? Or would you surrender to the pull of your heart and let yourself love him all over again? 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

ʏᴜɴʜᴏ -- ʟᴏꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ (ᴀ) (28/9)

ᴀɢᴇɴᴛ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x ᴍᴀꜰɪᴀ ʙᴏꜱꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: After you die, yunho becomes a monster and kills everyone who hurt you before. Of course, it includes himself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ --ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʟᴘ ꜰ**ᴋ ᴍᴇ? (ᴍ) (30/9)

ᴘʟᴀʏʙᴏʏ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜰᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

Summary: You hate him and he hates you. But what if the alcohol makes you beg for him? Well, that's not good.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ -- ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ʟᴜꜱᴛ (ᴍ)(3/10)

ᴇᴠɪʟ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x ꜰᴀɪʀʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Request: May I pretty please request A Yeosang X reader smut? She's a fairy and he's human or anything else you'd like, but she meets him in the woods and he notices how innocent she looks but can tell something is off. She doesn't understand what is happening as she grew up alone. Etc?

ᴡᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴛᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ (ᴍ) (5/10)

ᴘᴀɴᴛʜᴇʀ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x ᴘᴀɴᴛʜᴇʀ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Request: Request for a hybrid Yepsamg x hybrid reader smut where he knows her and it's her first time being knotted etc. But the rest of ATEEZ walks in on them knotted together and They get really Embarrassed?

Prompt: your protagonist is an assassin and their newest assignment is their childhood crush.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ 🐻

(a/n: some kind of kink series? haha)

ᴄᴀʀ ꜱ*x (ᴍ) (8/10)

ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ x ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Short story series No plot

ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ꜱ*x (ᴍ) (10/10)

ʜɪʀᴇᴅ ɢᴜɴ ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ x ʜɪʀᴇᴅ ɢᴜɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: Through drunkenness, you confessed your love to him. Huh? Are you really drunk or are you pretending?

ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴅ ᴋɪɴɢ(ᴍ) (12/10 00：00KST）

Happy birthday to our cute baby bear💕

ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴅ ᴋɪɴɢ ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ(ꜰᴀɪʀʏ ᴛᴀʟᴇ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ)

Prompt: Write a story where your hero is also a villain and your villain is also a hero

Summary: Jongho stands as your savior, the one who pulled you from the depths of despair during your childhood. Yet, to the outside world, he wears the mask of a villain—born of both demons and humans, his blood tainted, his temperament fierce and wild. Society has cast him into the abyss, but you refuse to accept this fate. You are determined to rescue him, no matter the toll it takes on your own reputation or even your very existence.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[slowd1ving]

Hi! I love your lookism fics, I would love to see your take on Seongji Yuk x gn reader. Something sweet and simple would be great!

I see that you like using science metaphors and im curious to how many can you use in one fic. I’m a complete chemistry nerd 🤓 😂

THE MUNDANE . 　⁺ ✦ SEONGJI YUK

In which an amateur stargazer finds that no, they do not teach biology in Cheonliang, and yes, gravity does in fact affect everything with mass. woah... gravitational fields.... woah inverse square law... woah, G.... ik you probably wanted more chemistry but I couldn't resist the physics gnawing away/// arghhh pairing: seongji yuk + gn reader warnings: prejudice (quite literally lookism) wc: 1.3k

LOOKISM MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

There’s a monster living in the Cheonliang mountains. 

A flutter of cloying kindness greets you when you first pull up to the rural village: tires burning on summer asphalt, senseless droning of cicadas, and warm rain seeping through your thin clothes. No rhyme or reason as to why you decided on this particular village to stop by; though, the rhyme might just be the hiccuping couplet of your pulse. Specifically, this pair of beats as your motorcycle drives past the tunnel; heavy, like two black holes encountering each other for the first time. Spinning, spinning. As the wheels on your bike do, naturally. 

Six fingers and toes, he’s cursed by the gods! Hark, my children—

Newton’s theory of gravitation dictates any particle with matter attracts any other with a force inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them. This is the inverse square law. It’s used for practical and theoretical applications, but it’s pretty useful when considering why people are drawn to something when they are close to it. Emotionally, physically, empathetically. Psychologically. See, once one begins to increase the proximity of two souls, there is a certain degree of attraction that occurs consequently. 

Pray should you ever encounter this one, for he is but a merciless, mad beast.

It’s a stagnated hum that twines through the fields. Little kids begin the verse, and their elders finish it while you leisurely drive past. Over and over. They play hopscotch to the rhythm in their secluded playgrounds, clap their small hands to the beat, and seem to have no eerie feelings behind their bright smiles. A distorted tale, wound through with the modest price of one person’s dignity. There’s a basis for every tale, after all—bitterly warped to suit the storyteller’s perspective. 

Do not pity the one abandoned by all. 

Thus, when you begin the winding slopes through the fields and up around the mountains, it reduces the distance between you and the epicentre. You trust your gut. You believe (mostly) that what compels you to park your motorcycle on this particular trail is no madness, but rather a tangible, logical reason. A scientific one, if you will. You’re a mass, the monster of Cheonliang certainly is a mass—thus gravity objectively binds you both. 

It’s not entirely implausible to suggest the rumours entice you as much as anything, but the heavy telescope bound to your vehicle is as good a reason as any to stop by this eve. And that: the buzz in your very cells, that seem to divide simply to tug you in the direction of the sprawled forest. Stargazing in Cheonliang it is, then. 

Despite your idle curiosity, you don’t go looking: quietly setting up your equipment in a clearing where the breeze flows cleanly, like fragile forgiveness in a peaceful room. It’s a saccharine solitude—as sweet as tanghulu when you close your eyes. 

“It’s dangerous.” Those are the first words you hear in this village that aren’t blighted by eerie insinuation. Here, where the mountain is solitary and sepulchral, that is the only time you find someone who isn’t the real monster in this mired town. Human, flesh and blood and warm. 

“Isn’t everything?” You peer through the eyepiece experimentally, focusing on the calm tide in his voice—

“No need t’be a smartass.” His cadence becomes slightly rougher as you hear a dull thump; by the movement of syllables, you’d judge he just leaned against a tree. “Was a piece of friendly advice.”

Hmm. You look away from the sky that’s somehow cleared up—miserable grey giving way to faint periwinkle, then atrament smattered with incandescent freckles—then at the stranger peering right back at you. 

“What should I be wary of, then?” There’s a relaxed sort of ease in your body, one you’re unfamiliar with. 

He stares at you askance, as though you’re an idiot. 

“Strangers,” he answers brusquely, pointing at himself. “Haven’t you heard the rumours about this place?”

“Oh.” You turn back to the equipment, leaning down to bring the height of the scope up comfortably. Stars, you think dreamily. “That stupid song? Here I thought you’d say boars or something.”

“Stupid song?” he echoes. “And you still went up?”

Six digits on his left hand as it sways downwards, six on the right hand nestled in his pocket. He’s tall, so much so that anyone would feel intimidated staring up at the guy. Close—he’s close by, which is perhaps why you gravitate towards him. Two masses, feeling greater force with greater proximity. This was the epicentre that drew you here. 

“Is biology class illegal here or something?” you counter incredulously. “Do I need to pay attention to fear mongering?”

“No,” he murmurs thoughtfully. “I guess you don’t.”

It’s strange. Your first encounter with Seongji Yuk can only be classified as abnormal. Gazing at the massive bodies scattered across the heavens, it’s perhaps common sense that the man next to you interests you as much as those heavenly giants. He’s closer, after all—kneeling down beside you so he can peek up at stars just as large as him. 

Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s simply science that ties the two of you together. He gives you his name, you offer yours in return. Seongji Yuk. Lying in the grass with damp seeping into your shirt, you ramble about astrophysics, while he carefully coats fruits in molten sugar. Shards as sharp as the words at the base of the mountain, though far sweeter. 

He’s cautious—you can feel his eyes on you as you sit on his wooden steps. In fact, his eyes trail after you when dawn breaks and it’s time to move on to your original destination. 

“I’ll come visit,” you vow, for the cycle of orbit has already begun. Two masses have drawn closer to each other, and naturally begin the spin round their counterpart. 

“No one told you about stranger danger?” You’re too damn trusting: haloed in ditzy stars, the type in cartoons when characters hit their heads. Except it’s permanent, and you don’t look stupid, but rather awash in their glow. 

“Everything’s dangerous,” you evade sheepishly, and that’s that. 

Summer comes and goes, but it’s fine not bringing your telescope in the chill of autumn. After all, you’ve found something equally as captivating to stare at. Inky eyes, dotted with such a shine that it looks like a star’s emerged rather than a pupil. 

It’s as if the year is put into distillation—monthly visits condensing into fortnightly ones, then weekly ones, before you’re driving the hour down to this place every few days. He’s made you a little space in his house: one where you can snooze on a spare futon with little worry for safety. For there’s no place more secure in a ‘monster’ lair than by the side of a so-called ‘monster’. 

“Quit staring,” he warns, matter-of-factly while the axe collides with the wood on the stump—cleaved neatly in two, almost too cleanly. 

“You’re pretty, I just can’t help it,” you sigh, leaning back on the creaky porch. There’s a book by your side: a thick text filled with particles and numbing quanta. 

You’re strange. He’s had this thought for a while, but especially today. In fact, you may be more supernatural than he, for each time you say such things, his heart skips one or two beats. Like clockwork, the mechanical nature of your spell is guaranteed: mouth going somewhat dry, ears seeping with a faint crimson, eyebrows creasing minutely. 

Why? 

“Have you seen yourself?” you counter incredulously, and that is when he realises he did not keep his thoughts silent. “You’ve literally got stars in your eyes, man. You….”

Ah. It’s moments like these where he feels so utterly ordinary; listening to you ramble on about things he doesn’t particularly understand, just like anyone else his age. 

It’s nice being bound to someone like this: close to another, experiencing the gravity that draws two people together for himself. 

Science is a perfectly plausible thing to believe in, after all. 

[doumadono]

Hii, I wanted to submit an emergency request. I got diagnosed with autism two years ago and for the past few months I struggled a lot with it. I moved out to go to art school, which I love but I'm having a lot of sensory overload (mostly caused by many loud noises) and meltdowns (caused by sensory overload and a lot of changes the past few months), where everything feels like it's too much and I cry for hours sometimes, which also causes a lot of anxiety of the outside world and makes me want to just stay inside.

Can I request Dabi comforting the reader through a meltdown and trying to ease their anxiety?

Blanket - Dabi x Reader

A/N: it’s absolutely okay to feel overwhelmed, but remember, you're doing incredibly well by facing these challenges every day! Please, don't be so hard on yourself!

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

In the shadowed confines of the League of Villains' hideout, a place as cold and unforgiving as the hearts of those who frequented it, your senses were under siege. The world outside seemed to spin uncontrollably, the cacophony of city sounds seeping through the walls and overwhelming your senses. The sensory overload was suffocating, a merciless tide that pulled you under its waves, and tonight, it had dragged you down into its darkest depths.

Dabi found you in the less frequented back hallway, a place you had hoped would offer solace from the storm.

Your back was pressed against the cool wall, your knees drawn up to your chest, and your hands clamped over your ears in a futile attempt to block out the world as you rocked bath and forth. Tears streaked your cheeks, unnoticed by all but the keenest of observers.

As Dabi approached, his steps deliberately soft, he cleared his throat to not startle you. "Hey," Dabi's voice cut through the haze of your thoughts, instantly more effective than any other sound in the room. He crouched beside you, his presence a strangely comforting shadow. "Too much noise, huh?" Dabi's voice was a low rumble, barely audible over the hideout's usual din, yet clear in your ears. "Let's tune it out, just for a while."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

"Look at me," he instructed gently.

You slowly lowered your hands, meeting his gaze.

The turquoise of his eyes was like ice but offered a focus in the whirlpool of sensory overload. "We're going to breathe through this, just you and me."

His words, softly spoken, were a directive that you clung to amidst the chaos. As you matched your breathing to his slow, deliberate inhales and exhales, the background noise began to fade, muffled by the growing calm between your shared breaths.

"I know it's loud here, too much going on all the time," Dabi continued, his voice steady. "We all have our moments. Even Shigaraki has his days, though he'd never admit it."

At the mention of the others, you realized that your struggles were not so alien here. These villains, though hardened and chaotic in their own ways, also battled their demons - albeit different from your own.

"Let's find a quieter spot," Dabi suggested, helping you to your feet with an unexpected gentleness. "Somewhere you can get back your footing."

He led you to a small, seldom-used storage room. The light was dimmer here, the sounds muffled by stacks of old, dusty supplies. Dabi settled beside you on an old, rugged couch that had seen better days. "Here, we can set up a little hideout for ya," he said, scanning the room thoughtfully. "A place where you can escape when it gets too much."

The idea of a sanctuary within the chaos of the hideout was a balm to your frazzled nerves. "T-Thanks, Dabi..." you stuttered, wiping the remnants of tears off your cheeks.

Reaching over, Dabi pulled a thick, heavy blanket from a nearby stack - stolen goods from one of their escapades - and draped it gently over your shoulders that were still trembling. "It’s like this sometimes, isn't it? Everything just piles up until it’s too much to handle," he said quietly, his voice steady and reassuring. "Found that sometimes, all you need is a little space to breathe."

"Maybe, in time, I'll learn to manage better," you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

Dabi's response was a rare, genuine smile. "That's the spirit," he affirmed. "You're stronger than you think. But until you feel that strength yourself, you’ve got me."

[born-of-flames]

Entry Three...

(From Her Perspective...)

The bark of the tree was digging into my back as the stars began to twinkle in the dusky evening glow. Bugs were humming and birds still singing, unaware of my agony, my ecstasy.

The hands perusing my body as if I am no longer my own were human, rough and callused, and none too gentle with my skin, already pink and stinging from my hasty tripping and stumbling on the forest floor.

The chuckle he produced was so low that I can feel it rumbling in my own chest. I felt the vibrations in my bones, and an ache as deep and primal as time itself guided my hips to rock into his, no matter how merciless the eyes boring into mine were. I closed my eyes and surrendered to this tide. Every touch of his fingers on my skin filled me with an apprehensive, dreadful need for more.

When I was sure I would combust from the desire for more stimulation, burning hotter and hotter, dying for more of his touch on my skin, he broke away and the whine that escaped from my lips was eerily high-pitched as it echoed around the empty hills.

"Patience, lamb." And just as I reopened my eyes, the world flipped upside down and the blood rushed to my head. I've been thrown over his shoulder like I weigh nothing at all and I know my destination. My mind is racing with the terror of disorientation and my wordless cries are only met with silence. Some madness gripped me, and I fought. I kicked and struggled and scratched but none of it seemed to make a difference at all. Eventually, my squirming faded and the weak hits came farther in between until I was limp and exhausted.

Was it minutes or hours before I was placed on my back before that stone altar? The stars were finally twinkling alone in the dark sky, and the full moon just peeked over the trees.

I was alone for this moment, but not completely, I could hear the rustle of leaves and the striking of a match. Besides his ominous presence to deter me, I had no energy left to spend leading another ill-fated chase through the dark this time.

Was I imagining the shadows darting around the trees past the braziers, lit one by one from the candle in his hand? Surely the drum beat was only my own blood pounding in my ears. The blood on my back felt dry and sticky, the cool night breeze left goosebumps where it brushed over my skin.

But the masked silhouette approached, backlit from the firelight, the goosebumps morphed into a shiver and then a quaking as your one of his hands trapped my wrists, and the other dipped into the soaking wet apex at my thighs again, and the sound that fell out of his mouth was part sigh, part moan, and part growl.

Then the tears began to fall, products of my aprehension and desire, my humiliation at being exposed and wanting, nay, needing more of his touch. Closing my eyes did nothing to stop the warm tracks running down my cheeks.

"Please!" Is the only word I can think of to say, and it tumbled out of my mouth over and over and over as his fingers work me into a frenzy. I didn't know if I'm begging for a release or relief.

When he pulled away again, my eyes flew open, and even through the blurred tears I could see the danger and lust in the distinctly familiar eyes under the mask. Testing my hands, I realized in horror that while he toyed with me, he tied my to this tree stump.

And then I saw the candle in his hands. There was only a split second to anticipate the burn before he tipped the taper sideways and dripped a long line of red wax between my bared breasts.

I howled from surprise and struggled against his weight pinning me to the ground and my restraints, but he only chuckled again.

I felt the flames licking at my nipples and down my sides. Then he moved downwards, and my squirming did nothing to stop the stinging, now on my stomach and thighs. My pleas for mercy were swallowed by the starry night sky.

"Why are you doing this?" I cried into his chest as the wax fell like rain onto my thighs, and I felt my clit throb, still aching from the way he touched me before.

There was no reply, but the hand restraining mine tightened and the braziers glowed brighter, just as his teeth sank into my neck and surprised me. My back arched involuntarily, inadvertently pressing my wax covered body against his.

"I already told you, lamb. Because I know you want it."

[bookloover35]

Shanks- Beneath the crimson tide.

The sea was calm tonight, its surface shimmering like black silk beneath the crescent moon. In the depths, hidden among the coral reefs, you—[Y/N], a mermaid—swam quietly, the cool water a familiar embrace. The open ocean had always been your home, far away from the clamor and chaos of the human world. But sometimes, even the deep blue brought its own surprises.

Tonight, the scent of blood drifted through the water.

Curiosity piqued, you glided towards the source. It wasn't uncommon for ships to clash on the seas above, but the aftermath often led to debris—and sometimes bodies—floating down to your realm. As you broke the surface, you squinted to see a wooden wreckage drifting in the moonlight. Among the shattered beams and broken barrels was a lone figure, barely clinging to a piece of flotsam.

Red hair gleamed under the silver light.

Your heart skipped. You recognized him: Shanks, the infamous pirate captain. Stories of him had spread even beneath the waves, tales of his laughter, his daring exploits, and the way he carried himself with that relaxed yet dangerous aura. But right now, he was no more than a wounded man lost to the sea.

Without hesitation, you swam closer, your iridescent tail cutting smoothly through the water. His eyes fluttered open as your face came into view, his usual confident smirk replaced with a dazed expression.

"A... mermaid?" he whispered hoarsely, eyes widening slightly.

You simply nodded. "Hold on," you murmured softly, your voice carrying a melodic quality that had always fascinated the surface dwellers. With a swift flick of your tail, you maneuvered beneath him, guiding his weight onto your back. Despite his injuries, he was surprisingly heavy, but you pressed on, propelling the both of you towards the closest island.

The journey took longer than you'd anticipated. Shanks drifted in and out of consciousness, his grip on you weak but determined. Occasionally, he murmured something—fragments of dreams or memories. Each word was a glimpse into a life you could never fully understand.

When you finally reached the shore, you carefully laid him on the sand, the waves gently lapping at his feet. His eyes cracked open, and he let out a low groan. Kneeling beside him, you pressed your fingers to his forehead, feeling the heat radiate from his skin.

"Why... did you save me?" he asked, his voice barely more than a rasp.

You tilted your head, considering the question. "The sea may be harsh, but it is not merciless," you replied softly. "Besides, I've heard enough stories about you. It would be a shame if they ended too soon."

He chuckled weakly, a shadow of the vibrant laugh that was said to echo through pirate taverns. "A mermaid with a sense of humor. I must be dreaming."

"You're not," you replied, flicking your tail playfully. You leaned down, inspecting the wound on his side—a jagged gash, likely from a sword. Without another word, you retrieved a pouch of seaweed from a hidden satchel around your waist and pressed it to the wound.

A hiss of pain escaped Shanks' lips, but he didn't pull away. "You're full of surprises," he said through gritted teeth.

"You haven't seen the half of it," you teased, your fingers deftly working to wrap the makeshift bandage. As you finished, your eyes met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade into the gentle whisper of the waves. His gaze was intense, a mixture of curiosity and something else—something that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Thank you," he said, his voice softer now, more sincere. "Not everyone would've bothered."

You shrugged, trying to play it off casually, but his gratitude warmed you in a way the sun never could. "The ocean has its ways," you said, flicking your gaze to the horizon. "It brought me to you."

Shanks chuckled again, this time with more strength. "I'll have to repay you someday," he said, attempting to sit up but grimacing in pain. "What's your name, mermaid?"

You hesitated. Names held power among your kind, but something about this man, this pirate who stared at you with those sharp, warm eyes, made you feel... safe. "Call me [Y/N]," you finally answered.

"[Y/N]," he repeated, testing it on his tongue like a sailor tasting a fine rum. "I won't forget it."

You offered him a small smile, a rare gift in itself. "You better not, pirate," you teased, flicking your tail playfully. "I'll be watching you."

As dawn began to break, you knew it was time to return to the sea. But before you could slip back into the waves, Shanks caught your hand, his grip surprisingly strong despite his injuries.

"Will I see you again?" he asked, his voice low, almost vulnerable.

You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, "Perhaps... if the tides are kind."

With that, you slipped beneath the surface, leaving only a ripple behind. Shanks watched the spot where you disappeared, his grin slowly returning.

He would recover, of that you were certain. And perhaps, one day, the sea would bring him back to you.

For now, you would swim beneath the waves, carrying with you the memory of a crimson-haired pirate and a promise made beneath the moonlight.

[chvoswxtch]

perv!billy russo watching, peeping as you and your boyfriend frank has sex. he just loves to watch frank work, that’s just canon.

nonnie, you are absolutely goddamn right.

thank you for putting this sinful image in my head. I got a little carried away (what's new) and made billy a little bit more...involved if you will. ;)

warning: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors pls dni) word count: 2k

love to watch you work.

Billy didn’t want to touch himself. Not yet. He liked to draw out the excitement, let the anticipation build up in his chest slowly, like a roller coaster languidly rising up the track to its highest peak. He liked to let his cock swell on its own with need from the external stimulation, seeing just how long he could hold out, granting himself tiny slivers of relief before diving fully into the lust that pooled in his eyes. He liked to make it last.

But it was getting increasingly harder when you were making noises like that.

Your wrists were bound to the headboard with his silk black tie to keep you from being able to move, Billy’s idea that Frank had happily obliged to, and had made your thighs clench together as soon as the words left his mouth. 

Told you she’d like it, Frankie.

The way you had stared up at him with those big doe eyes as he bound your wrist with his own tie had nearly made him come on the spot.

He watched in awe as you writhed on the bed, your hips having to be held down by Frank’s strong arm, because you couldn’t stay still while he worked you over with his tongue. One of the things he loved about Frank was that he liked to take his time too. He wasn’t impatient when it came to pleasure, didn’t rush or go in without a plan. He was methodical, tactical even, and everything had a purpose. Every single touch, the way he undressed you, the placement of his kisses; every action was precalculated to get you as worked up as possible to ensure you reached a level of gratification you knew only he could give.

Frank knew how to make people beg, and Billy loved it.

Billy gripped onto the arm of the chair he was sitting in so tightly, his knuckles turned completely white. Frank had been eating you out for half an hour now, sending you rushing towards the edge only to slowly drag you away like a merciless tide flirting with the moon. Frank had told him that you never put up a fight, and that it never took much to get you to beg for him, but Billy had requested that he edge you to see just how far they could push you. A low groan sounded in the back of Billy’s throat when he noticed Frank had began to rut his hips against the mattress, searching for his own relief as he fucked you with his tongue.

Frank had rendered you a whimpering, pathetic mess so easily, it made Billy rock hard within a matter of minutes. He watched almost in a trance as you weakly tugged at the restraints, whining as you tried so hard to rock your hips against Frank’s face, begging relentlessly for mercy. Billy liked that you were greedy. But more than anything, he liked how submissive you were, so willing to surrender as long as you got what you wanted. He clenched his jaw as he moved his hand over the bulge in his jeans, palming himself lightly to get just enough relief to placate himself, a soft sigh leaving his parted lips.

“Fuck, you weren’t kiddin’ about her.”

“Told ya, Bill. She gives in easy.”

“Oh, and you don’t? You ever tell her no?”

Frank paused as he pulled his head away from your pussy and turned his head to the side to flash Billy a cocky grin. His entire mouth, nose, and chin were completely covered and shining with your slick.

“Would you?”

Billy tore his eyes away from Frank when a frustrated whine left your mouth due to the lack of attention where you wanted it most. He glided his tongue slowly along his bottom lip when he caught your bashful gaze, inhaling slowly through his nose before letting out a deep exhale from his chest as he stared you down with a wicked smirk.

“No. I’d give her whatever the fuck she wanted.”

“Frank…please…”

You sounded like you were on the verge of tears, and to his exhilaration, Billy swore he could see a few building in the corners of your eyes. Frank turned his attention back to you, gently rubbing his large hand over your spread thigh as he licked his lips and flashed you a charming smile.

“What is it, sweetheart? You wanna come?”

A loud whine of desperation tore through your chest as you nodded frantically, tugging harder at Billy’s tie as you let pleas fall from your lips like raindrops in a storm.

“Well don’t ask me, baby. You gotta ask Bill. Bet he’d say yes if you asked real nice, yeah?”

Billy nearly combusted when you turned your head to look at him. Your eyes were heavy with exhaustion from the edging, but wild with a hunger that could only be satisfied with his permission. Your full lips were parted as you panted heavily and he watched as your perfect tits bounced ever so slightly with the heavy rise and fall of your chest. That look in your eye had him ready to unload in his jeans, and he understood perfectly why Frank could never say no to you.

“Please Billy…please…please let me come.”

He knew he wasn’t going to deny you, but he feigned contemplation so that he could hear the way you moaned his name again. It was drenched in need, and had him palming harder at his aching cock. Billy could’ve come just from hearing how good you sounded when you begged. He loved to hear people beg. It caused a power to surge through his veins, being the only one to be able to offer what was needed so badly; being the one that was needed so badly. But getting to hear you beg? It was his new favorite sound.

“Russo ain’t as nice as me, sweetheart. He’s gonna make you work for it, ain’tcha Bill? I reckon he likes how pretty you sound though. Don’t be shy, angel. Let ‘em know how bad you need it.”

Frank rested his cheek against your thigh as he smiled up at you, glancing over at Billy with a knowing look as he chuckled lowly. Billy narrowed his eyes at Frank, knowing exactly what game he was playing, and let out another deep exhale as a whimper of his name from your lips caught his attention.

“Please…Billy…please let me come. Please, I need it-”

“You think you’ve earned it?”

“Yes…yes I’ve been good, Billy-”

“Yes you have, babygirl. You’ve been very good. You’ve been so generous, letting Frank share you like this with me. You wanna paint his pretty face? Bet he’d look even better covered in you. Still wouldn’t be as pretty as you, though.”

“How’s it feel not bein’ the prettiest one in the room, Russo?”

Frank’s lips were stretched in a wide smirk as he rubbed slow circles on your inner thigh, lifting his brows in playful inquisition as he stared at Billy. Shaking his head slowly, Billy undid a few more buttons on his shirt, tugging at the leather of his belt as a smirk curled at the corner of his own mouth.

“She’s been so kind as to share with me, I don’t mind my competition being her. Now put that fuckin’ smart mouth of yours to work, Castle. Give her what she’s earned.”

Frank broke out into a toothy grin as he chuckled, saluting Billy with two of his fingers and a wink before grasping your thighs in his large hands and throwing your legs over his broad shoulders. The sounds that he made while eating your pussy were obscene, and Billy groaned lowly at how loud you got the closer you got to the edge. After unzipping his jeans, he slipped his hand into them to grasp his cock through his briefs, hissing quietly at the contact before giving it a gentle squeeze. Billy was having a hard time settling on what to focus on more; the way Frank’s head moved between your thighs or the looks of absolute fucked out euphoria on your pretty face.

“Be a good girl and come all over his face, darlin’. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes Billy…”

“Good, that’s a very good girl.”

Billy sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he watched your face, subtly moving his hips up against his palm as he groaned lowly. He still wasn’t ready to come yet, even though he really wanted to. He wanted to watch Frank stretch you out with his cock, see just how much you let him get away with when he fucked you stupid, and then he’d get to have his own fun. 

The second your orgasm crashed into you like a wave colliding into a cliff, your back arched off the bed, and your loud moans filled the bedroom entirely, luring Billy further into his own greed like a siren’s song. He grunted loudly as he practically forced himself to pull his hand out of his jeans, gripping onto the armrests tightly as he panted, slowly rolling his hips upwards into nothing as Frank stubbornly cleaned the mess between your thighs despite your breathy protests.

Frank didn’t give you more than a minute to calm down before he was kissing his way up your stomach, pausing at your chest to give each of your nipples a gentle bite, before untying your hands from the headboard. He looped the extra fabric around your wrists tightly to keep them bound, wrapping his arm around your waist to manipulate you onto your stomach, grasping at your hips to pull your ass up into the air. Frank’s large hand came down against your ass in a rough smack, and Billy’s eyes lit up as you surged forward and let out a soft whine. Frank had positioned you directly in Billy’s sight, giving him the perfect view of your face and tits.

“Her eyes open?”

“Nah. Think she’s still comin’ down.”

Frank reached forward to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head backwards gently to get you to lift your head up, grunting softly as you pressed your ass further into his hard cock.

“There ya go, sweetheart. Look at Bill.”

“Open those pretty eyes, doll. Let me see ‘em.”

Billy’s lips stretched into a wide grin when your eyes fluttered open, sinking back further into the chair to get comfortable.

“There she is.”

“Told Russo we’d give him a show, yeah? You’re gonna keep those eyes open. Want you to watch him while he watches you. You close your eyes, even for a second, he’s gonna tell me, and then I stop. You understand?”

You nodded your head as best as you could, whining softly as Billy shook his head and clicked his tongue against his cheek.

“Don’t tell me he’s fucked you dumb already. You’re a smart girl. Use your words. Do you understand what he said?”

“Yes…understand.”

“Good.”

Billy gave Frank a nod of his head, licking his lips as he finally pushed his jeans and briefs down his thighs to finally let his cock spring free. A soft moan flew past your lips as you watched, and Billy smirked as he collected some of the precum that had leaked onto his stomach to lubricate his palm. 

“Like what you see, darlin’?”

“Yes…oh-”

As Frank slowly pushed himself into you from behind, your eyes fluttered closed for a second as you adjusted, only snapping them back open when you heard Billy clear his throat. He arched one of his dark brows in warning, and you gripped onto the sheets as you pleaded with your eyes. He gave you a quick ‘i’ll let that one slide’ wink, wrapping his palm around the base of his needy cock that was begging for attention. He let out a deep, satisfied moan when Frank started to fuck you from behind, moving his hand in sync with Frank’s rhythm.

“Goddamn Frankie, I love to watch you work.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

[agattthaa]

Softly

Paring: Anna/Lane

Word count: 1.006

Rating: T

Summary: Anna's worries made her touch to be soft.

Tagging: @rc-catalog

Anna stroked her chin with her thumb while the rest of her fingers cupped Lane’s face. Her hold was almost weightless, as if she believed that her touch could hurt Lane even more than her little run she already had.

As if Anna’s touch could ever hurt her.

But what could and did hurt her was Anna’s gaze. She could feel the microbiologist's worried eyes scanning her entire body, the lines on her face becoming deeper each time she noticed a new bruise blossoming into Lane’s skin.

She leaned her face deeper into Anna’s soft hand, desperately wanting nothing other than to drag the other woman’s eyes back to her own or to simply pull them away from the growing purple that tarnished all over her skin. Because seeing the pain in Anna's eyes and knowing that she was the one to blame for all of it was worse than any physical pain that Lane could ever feel.

-I need to get dressed.

Anna simply nodded, quickly grabbing the clean clothes from a nearby chair and handing them to the other woman, and slowly helping her to get dressed. Lane probbably could have finished it sooner if she had done it by herself. But she didn’t. She couldn’t deny that to Anna, not while she had that devastated look into her eyes, watching over so that she didn’t accidentally touched any sore spots.

When she was finally dressed, Anna came even closer to her, and taking a clean gauze, she started to wipe clean the scrapes on both of Lane’s hands.

Her touch stayed as careful as possible. The gauze glazed so softly that it almost didn't touch her skin at all and Anna's eyes were still scared, as if she believed that any moment now, Lane would simply vanish from her fingers.

Lane wanted to wipe that pain and fear away like Anna was wiping her dried up blood. Carefully, softly, slowly.

But she had never been that type of person.

The type that knows how to bring comfort.

The type that knows the right thing to say and that could make people feel better just with their presence.

Lane was actually the opposite.

She could solve any type of puzzle if the puzzle wasn't the human mind.

Comforting words had always sounded like empty lies to her.

She couldn't tell Anna that she regretted running alone and as quickly as possible from the car, because that decision had saved Lester's life.

She couldn't say that she would be more careful in the future because it was a blatant lie. If the Book was in a field surrendered by anomalies and any other type of danger, Lane would run towards it without even looking back.

She couldn't say that it wouldn't happen again because if Anna had been the one in danger instead of Lester, Lane would've jumped from the car even quicker, she would've ran even faster.

So, since any try at comforting words would result in a lie, Lane stayed silenced, waiting as patiently as possible. Anna could feel her gaze, taking her time to finish cleaning up Lane’s hands and applying a solution to it, leaving a long sigh before raising her eyes to look into Lane's again.

-When you broke out of the car and ran into the fog, I screamed at you, I called for you, but you didn't hear… I was afraid. Afraid that whatever took Lester would take you too.

And Lane could read her eyes like a book. All that worry, fear, care and affection and love overflowed from her blue eyes like a high tide, strong and merciless and overwhelming, taking everything with it. Taking Lane with it. As if Anna hadn't done it already every single day since the very beginning.

There were no need for any other words besides that. They both pulled into each other in a tight embrace. Anna was still clearly afraid that someone, or something, would crash into the old manor and take Lane from her, and Lane wanted to prove her that it wouldn't, that no force would ever be strong enough to tear them apart, not while Anna was the air on her lungs and her sole motive for everything.

Their lips meet in a sharp contrast of their touch. While their hug was almost bruising, the kiss was slow, soft, careful. Too different from any other kiss that they ever shared. As if it was the ultimate evidence that Lane was indeed okay. As if sharing the air on their lungs was the only thing that could assure Anna that Lane was still there, still with her.

And it ended almost as suddenly as it began, leaving Anna confused.

-We should go help them search the house. There's people outside the room, and the door is also broken and unlocked.

-That never stopped you before.

-I just think that is a bad idea being caught making out with the boss’ sister on the same day I lost the book.

And for the first time since they left the car, Anna smiled. And even if it was her wicked side smile that was a clear warning that Lane would be teased, she almost sighed in relief. She could endure any teasing for that pain to leave Anna's eyes and for Anna's smile to always remain on her face.

-Oh, I didn't know that you were scared of the General. And after he stopped trying, too. I can't tell if he would be pleased or disappointed.

-I am more scared of your brother than of the the general. I don't think he would find me a good… option to be with you.

-Well, if he hadn't noticed yet, we definitely should get a new General, because it's clear as the day. You've gotten soft. Just for me, though.

And there was nothing to argue about that, so Lane simply pulled Anna close, holding her carefully on her arm and resting her head on Anna's shoulder.

-Yes. Just for you.

[btssunnyboy]

Tides of Deception - PJ, JJ - Part 1

-The water was always somethings townsfolks talked about. What's happens when you find out the myths were a whole lot more than what you had been told?

-Use of curse words, hyperventilating and being tormented by a demon.

-Word count - 4.3K

-Jimin x reader Jungkook x reader

-Request open!

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

The crystal blue waters were always something that mesmerized you, almost as if the water itself was sending you into a trance. Shining as bright as a diamond in the sunlight, the moon seemed to bounce itself off the small waves that crashed against the beach's shore. Memories like this were rare nowadays thanks to the merciless creatures that lurked in the shadows of the oceans. Thoughtless actions were the only things that they seemed to understand, no matter how much damage it did along the way. As long as they got the creatures to live a live moment they didn't care whether the humans lived or died in the path. 

“You know they say the closer you stand to the edge of the water the more tranced you'll become,” His voice held a hint of mischief as his eyes darted between your curious face and the dark waters that seemed as if they went on for miles. “But this town is littered with myths. Old wives tales about the things that lurk in those waters as we speak.” The way his eyes mimicked  the light bouncing off the waters it made your stomach churn. Why was he all the sudden worried about things that lurked below? For as long as you've known Jimin, curiosity was something he never even dipped his finger into, the old saying curiosity killed the cat was something that he definitely took to heart. So why was the water something that intrigued him now, of all the times you two have lived in this small town. 

‘Don’t tell me you're actually thinking about going on a late night swim.” Your voice came out in more of a mocking tone than you had planned. His head tilted the left slightly as he stared at you. For a second there you could have sworn they went almost dead like, all the color drained from his iris. When he saw your eyes widen he quickly shook his head , trying his best to cover it up with a cough. “I'm just joking you know, I'm glad you're beginning to have adventures, but do you really want your first brave moment to be facing the sirens or whatever they're called face to face?” 

A small laugh that sounded almost robotic came from the depths of his throat, it was odd to say the least. Before you even had a chance to say another word you saw him take slow steps towards the small waves that were crashing on the beach. Almost as if he had an invisible rope tied around your waist you began to mimic his steps. Left and right until the cool water had touched your knees. As much as you didnt want to admit it, the cool water was a wonderful contrast from the heated night that was making sweat beads form on your forehead. “It's nice isn't it.” 

There it was, the soft, velvet voice you remembered him having. All the worries that were filling your head slowly washed away with the tide. His arms wrapped around yours as he pulled his body closer to yours. Those eyes were his again, they were your best friends eyes. You've seen them a thousand times, but something still felt off. That hand that was wrapped around yours didn't hold you with a delicate touch, now you could feel his fingertips beginning to break the skin on your forearm. 

“Jimin, I want to go back to the shore.” it was a desperate plea, and you wanted to leave the waters. The waves were beginning to get rougher almost as if the waves themselves had million tiny fingertips that were gripping you and pulling you further out into the current. “I'm not messing around, I want to go back now.”  

“I don't know what youre talking talking about y/s, you've always told me you loved the water. What makes this time any different.” His head tilted again and you could've sworn his body glitched as the moonlight started shining upon him. Small jerks of his head were highlighted in the light. Fear felt as if it was running through your bloodstream at this point. This point it wasnt Jimin, you were that. Yet he seemed real, he didn't seem like a holograph of your best friend. He was touching you, his skin was warm, how could he not be real? 

“Y/n get out of the water!” that voice, you know that voice. Before you could snap your head in that direction the other jimin gripped your chin so hard you could feel his now shaper nails dig deeper and deeper into your skin. Those dark dead eyes were back, but the person standing in front of you wasn't jimin. His height has changed, his hair has changed, everything about him has changed. Those sharp fangs were prominent as the thing in front of you gave the most devious smile. 

“He's not real and you know that, doll. The only thing that is real to you right now is me. Can you feel my warmth?” His other arm that wasn't gripping your chin wrapped around your waist again. Those dark eyes were intriguing, but sirens were going off in your head. None of this could be real right now. The man standing in front of you, his warmth, anything. “You know this is real, but do you want me to show you how real this actually is?” 

It didn't seem like a question when it fell from his lips, it seemed like a statement. You needed to know this was real, the creature standing in front of you needed this. The thing leaned his head down towards yours. Those cold lips blowing his breath against them. “All you gotta do is say yes, and I can show you my world.” A sharp and rough material had draped itselfs over you, with sharp tugs you were suddenly under the shallow water. You could feel your skin rubbing against it in fast motion, the burns mixed with the salty sea water brought you back to reality. He was real, but that wasn't the real jimin. Once again sharp nails dug into your forearms as you were finally pulled from the ocean. 

Sharp breaths entered your ;lungs as you stared into the dark night his figure glitched again as he went back to his true form. The moonlight lit his devious smile up one more time before he turned around and drove back into the dark waters that were about to take your last breath away. “Oh my god, I think you're the stupidest person I have ever met!” 

“I'm the stupidest person you have ever met! Jimin you threw a dam fishing net at me, did you even think that plan through!” You huffed as you tugged at the mesh wire that still had you enclosed. A sharp huffed pushed itself out of your mouth as you finally freed yourself. “And don't call me stupid i didn't know that it wasn't the real you!”  

“Now I know you're stupid, you know I don't even like coming to the ocean in the daylight, do you really think I'd be willing to come here at night!” Jimin exclaimed as he helped you up to your feet so you could dust off the sand that cling to your wet body. “I'm only here right now because you sent that stupid picture of the full moon!” 

The moon was always a fascination of yours, even if you knew how dangerous it was. Those creatures are powerful anytime of night, but during the full moon everyone knows their powers become almost more unearthly than they already are. You knew better, but the beach was so pretty at night and you knew to never get that close to the water. “Look, I'm sorry, but it felt real. It really felt like it was you.” 

“That's how they get you, they are able to shapeshift, if you ever listened to me i told you that. They can take the form of anyone they have never seen before, so do you know what that means?” Sudden realization hit you, those things have been watching you for god knows how long. Long enough to pick up on details specifically about you! Your fascination with the moon and the water, even the idea that you know about them. You've been coming to the beach for a long time so it's untelling just how much these things know about the two of you. “Y/s when i ask you this you have to be completely honest with me, alright” 

You sucked your teeth as you shook your head slightly, “What jimin? Can't we talk about this on the walk back home?” you didn't want to spend another minute next to that water right now. That thing almost got you, it almost lured you into the deep waters never to be seen again. 

“Did you let it kiss you, hell y?n, did it get any of your blood on it?” you stared at him dumbfounded, of course it didn't kiss you he threw a fishing net around your body and drug you back to shore before it could even get its lips a centimeter closer to yours. “You gotta tell me the truth.” 

“Of course it didn't kiss me, the only thing I got is rope burns from you tangling me up like I was the damn catch of the day!” You threw your hands up defeated, the only thing on your mind was that you wanted to go home and rest. Forget this night ever happened. Jiomin eyebrow raised as he swiped his rough thumb across your chin, it felt like sandpaper was rubbing on an open wound. He held his finger up and showed the crimson liquid that was fainting staining his fingertips. “Oh god,” 

“Oh god is right dumbass, that thing knows the scent of your blood now, And if you ever go back to that water it's gonna make sure you end up on the bottom of the ocean floor.” Jimin wiped the blood on his shots as he wrapped you up in his jacket. “I need to go ask my dad what can they do know that it has the scent of your blood.: 

“As long as I don't go near the water it can't do much can it?” The worry was evident in your voice and it made Jimin's features soften. The hair on the back of you next was started to stand up as if it knew you were still on that things radar. “You're not answering me and it's really starting to freak me out!” 

“I wanna say it should freak you out, because i told you a thousand times you needed to stay away from the water but as usual you never want to listen! Bit i'm just worried because my dad told me along time ago if so called merfolk get your blood it's like a blood tie,” 

You rubbed a rough hand down your face as you stared at him. He can call it a blood tie all he wants, but that doesn't do anything when you want him to explain whatever the hell that is. “How about you stop treating this like a big" I told you so” moment and tell me what the hell is gonna happen to me!” 

His paced quicken as he wanted up the start of the house and he ushered you in, “it's like a soul bond now, that thing is gonna torture you psychology until it compels you to go back to the water. It's gonna make you see things that aren't there, and it can manipulate water so anytime you're around it it's gonna know. It’s almost gonna be jealous that you're not in the water with it.” 

“Your dad has studied these things since we were little kids, he has to know of a way to stop it, or at least make it so that i'm not compelled to go on anymore late night walks to my doom!” 

“I swear i'll call him, but for right now go take a shower, and before you get scared im gonna stay right down the hall so i'll hear you, but that sand is killing me.” Jimin gave you a soft shove through the bathroom door, he left it open with just a crack so he'd be there in a heartbeat if he heard anything. This was all new to him no matter how much he didn't want to admit that. The countless times his father would set him down and describe the dangers of the water, Jimin having only one thought on his mind, would let all the information flow through one ear and out the other. A heavy sigh passed through his li[ps as he stared at the worn out books on the shelf. Each chapter is filled with his father's annotations on all the subjects. Everything was colored coded, as his father was still figuring out all of the information that he could on the topic. 

Green, he knows anything and everything there is to know about that subject, Yellow, his grasp was not as good on those concepts as they were with the green color coded notes. Finally, red for the things that are still not in his realm of knowledge at this time. Thankfully the color red was scary, but that does not mean the color was not used. Jimin just prayed whatever knowledge that was unlearned was not the answers to the questions he has racing through his mind right now. The thought of going to his father was heavy on his mind, but he knew that it would come down to a lecture that Jimin was not prepared for. He could have been helping you this whole time had he just listened for a few minutes when he was first getting told all of the information that filled these books. Now in order to help you he has to sit down and make sure that he learns all he can before he could potentially lose his best friend. The heavy thud of the book etched in the house as he slammed it against the wooden table, time is not on his side and he might have bitten off more than he can chew. 

Steam filled the small bathroom as you let the warm water wash away the sand that still littered your body. It was all a stupid mistake you should've never made, and you know that. But for some reason it doesn't feel like a mistake. Going to that beach felt like the right thing to do, seeing that thing was the only thing on your mind. With so many questions racing through your troubled mind, you tried to think of reasonable answers for them. How the hell did he look just like jimin, how did the thing even talk like him? Standing on the shore it felt like you two belonged there, he was warm and counting almost. In the water it was a different story, h8e turned cold and demonic almost, but that was where most of the dangerous creatures lurk. In the dark and cold there was almost no one willing to go, yet you went. You were vulnerable and it knows that. Maybe you were just an easy target, standing at the edge of the shoreline,hypnotized by the moon's beautiful glow. You were the perfect target. 

“Why am I so stupid?” You huffed as you dragged the soap down your body. The sweet smelling bubbles gave your mind something else to wonder too. The rose scent soap was a nice change from the salty air that was lingering in your nostril. Even in the warmth of the steamy shower something felt odd, like a cold hand smoothly gliding itself up your spine. Those nails felt familiar and before you knew itr it felt like daggers were digging into the base of your spine. The nails themselves felt like they pierced through the skin and hooked themselves directly to your bones. Sharp shooting pain made you drop to your knees in the bathtub. The soon warm water was slowly gaining heat, Steam was filling the room making it even harder to breathe with hook like fingernails keeping you trapped against the floor. Your mouth opened to scream fro jimin in the kitchen, but nothing was coming out, 

Even with all your strength mustered up, your body physically couldn't release any sound. The skin on your back was burning hot as the water continued to beat down upon it. They felt like razor blades digging deeper and deeper into your skin. The skin on your back was becoming raw with all the scoldering heat that was being thrown at it. Soft whispers were heard over the booming sound of the water. The voice was slowly getting louder and louder in your ear. 

“Go back to the water with me” You tried to keep your breathing slowly, but it wasn't working. You were hyperventilated and there was no sound. No one could hear you, but you could hear everything. The voice sounded as if it was echoing out of the tiled walls. It felt like it was getting closer and closer to the point that you felt like you could feel the things lips against the shell of your ear. Just as you felt like you were about to pass out from heat exhaustion the curtain of the shower ripped open. At that moment you felt like your world was ending. The creature was back. 

There it was standing tall as it stared at your pitiful form at the bottom of the floor. Its head tilted once more and he leaned in eye to eye with you. Those dark eyes once again staring holes right through yours. Its sharp teeth grinning and glowing just like it in the moonlight. Just as it was standing in the light you could see all around you the lights themselves were starting to dim, the dimmer they got the closer the creature came to you. The slower it bent down to its knees you could feel your heart start racing even more. 

The tension in the air was slowly suffocating you, what was it about to do? You couldn't do anything besides shut your eyes and pray this was all a nightmare, but you were helpless. “Don't you wish you had listened to me?” That soft sweet voice held a tint of malice that made your stomach churn with uneasiness. You knew it was mimicking Jimin, and all of the sudden realization struck within your core. That thing was listening all along, from the moment you left the beach to the moment you stepped one foot into the house. Everything in your body was telling you to run, get help, but you couldn't. You were paralyzed with fear and the piercing pain in your back that made you unable to move. 

You clenched your eyes shut as hard as they would go, and you felt the bathroom air grow cold. The steam was dissipating as if any warmth was being sucked by the creature, but the pain was growing more unbearable the longer you resisted to look into its eyes. You could feel the creature's hungry smile as he leaned his head down, its lips brushing against your ear. 

“All you had to do was stay away from the water tonight, but I knew you wouldn’t.” 

That sentence made everything crystal clear, this thing knew you. It knew you would go to see just how beautiful the moon looked at night. It acted as if it knew every little detail about you. It's like it was lurking in not only the dark part of the water, but the dark parts of your mind. This is what jimin warned you about, the blood tie effects were starting. But just as the dark presence felt as if it was about to swallow you whole there was a sudden burst of light. It was Jimin standing in the doorway with a flashlight shining at you. Within a second he was rushing to your side kneeling at the tub. The creature hissed loudly as its body glitched and construed in the lights. Disappearing within the same instant that it had appeared. 

“Y/n are you okay!” That wasn't his voice, but the other worldly voice that was just with you. The creature was still with you, lurking in your mind. Its hold on you still stood firmly as you were unable to move from your current state. You could still hear the faint whispers faint but unmistakable as it loomed around.  

“Y/n! Answer me!” there it was, that soft voice you knew was his. His hand merely touching your shoulder made you flinch as you were still disoriented from the encounter. 

“im..im fine,” You gave a half hearted smile to your best friend. His brow was raised in question as he was wondering what was going on. Truth be told you didn't know what was going on, but if the creature was willing to do all of this to scare you, you knew the game had just begun. It had tasted your blood and you knew deep down it wasn't going to stop until it finally had you back within its grasp.  

You gripped Jimin's shoulder tightly as he held a firm yet gentle grasp on your arm. After all of this you knew this wasn't about the water anymore, this was simile about surviving and finally the key to breaking the bond between you and the creature. 

“From now on you need to stay away from the water.” Jimin tried to state it firmly, but you could still hear the fear in his voice, “I'm being serious, this thing is playing games, but i don't know exactly what game it's playing.” 

You nodded as you nudged your head towards the towel behind him. Jimin doesn't understand, but you do. That creature has its hooks within you, if anything you know the compelling urge to get back to the water is gonna be stronger than ever. And you know until you find the answers you're looking for that thing is going to wait, and watch for the perfect time to strike, and you're scared you're not gonna be ready for air. What if at the end of all of this that creature gets its wish? 

“Should I even ask what those marks are on your back?” 

It was an innocent question and you knew that, but you couldn't help but flinch at it. It was making your heart pound as Jimin's voice sliced through  the thick tensen. All of these marks on your body were not just physical mounds but remnants reminding you just how much of a hold that creature had on you. After everything you had hoped the water would wash away any remnants if the creature, but you could know seen the bonded was forged deeper than you expected it to be. 

“It's nothing,” You lied through your teeth and you knew Jimin always knew when you were lying. The mark from the creatures, and the burns from the creature were more than just marks, but you knew the impression they had left was something deeper than you could explain to him. You were ready to admit that these were something real, no matter how much you didn't want to. Letting Jimin know that you were terrified was not something you could bring yourself to do right now.  

“I can see it in your eyes, y/n, i know you're lying,” His hesitant hand brushed the small of your back where the marks were embedded into your skin. Out of shock your body flinched and you felt him tract his hand within the second. Your skin was still raw and tender from what happened. “I promise i'm not going to hurt you.” 

You didn't mean to scare him, but this was becoming too real. Your mind was in a constant turmoil. Everything felt as if it was amplified, the hushed whispered from before, to the robotic voice that sounded like Jimin. “I promise it's nothing, but let's just focus on figuring out how to fix this.” 

Jimin knew he didn't want to push any further, but he was just worried. He pushed a heavy sigh from his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I know..but I just don't know what to do right now.” His hands rubbed small circles on your shoulders and he pulled you into a hug, “Y/n you're my best friends, i just can't stand the thought of losing you.” 

You sighed as you squeezed him tight, you don't know what to do either. That creature had physically marked you, taste for your blood seemingly growing at this point. This was all beginning to get too real, and you didn't know if you were gonna be able to protect yourself alone. 

“You've known me my whole life, I'm not backing down without a fight,” You playfully patted his back as you tried to lighten the mood. You needed to seem reassuring to both of you. “But you have to promise me that you're going to help me beat this.” 

You pulled back from the hug and you could see the determination, with a hint of worry in Jimin’s eyes. “I promise we will get through this together. No matter what.” 

His hopeful tone felt like a  drastic difference from the horrific situation, but you knew deep down this wasn't going to be easy. That creature was already plotting its next move, and you two had to be ready. No matter what.

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Quotes that speak to me on this really fucking shitty day

Hey, have I told you lately that you're brave? I still remember what you said to that little girl in the hospital about Luke Skywalker:"He's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is." Sweetheart, you're proof too.

It is, indeed, bullshit. It's all I can do not to pack a bag and be gone forever. Perhaps I could live in your room like a recluse. You could have food sent up for me, and I'll be lurking in disguise in a shadowy corner when you answer the door. It'll all be very dreadfully Jane Eyre

I'm afraid, though, I'm stuck here. Gran keeps asking Mum when I'm going to enlist, and did I know Philip had already served a year by the time he was my age. I do need to figure out what I'm going to do, because I'm certainly closing in on the end of what's an acceptable amount of time for a gap year. Please do keep me in your- what is it American politicians say?-thoughts and prayers

It drives me nuts sometimes that you don't get to have more say in your life. When I picture you happy, I see you with your own apartment somewhere outside of the palace and a desk where you can write anthologies of queer history. And I'm there, using up your shampoo and making you come to the grocery store with me and waking up in the same damn time zone with you every morning.

Have you ever had something go so horribly, horribly, unbelievably badly that you'd like to be loaded into a cannon and jettisoned into the merciless black maw of outer space?

I wonder sometimes what is the point of me, or anything. I should have just packed a bag like I said. I could be in your bed, languishing away until I perish, fat and sexually conquered, snuffed out in the spring of my youth. Here lies Prince Henry of Wales. He died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

Specifically, we were discussing enlistment, Philip and Shaan and I, and I told Philip I'd rather not follow the traditional path and that I hardly think I'd be useful to anyone in the military. He asked why I was so intent on disrespecting the traditions of the men of this family, and I truly think I dissociated straight (ha) out of the conversation, because I opened my blasted mouth and said, "Because I'm not like the rest of the men of this family, beginning with the fact that I am very deeply gay, Philip."

Once Shaan managed to dislodge him from the chandelier, Philip had quite a few words for me, some of which were "confused or misguided" and "ensuring the perpetuity of the bloodline" and "respecting the legacy." Honestly, I don't recall much of it. Essentially, I gathered that he was not surprised to discover I am not the heterosexual heir I'm supposed to be, but rather surprised that I do not intend to keep pretending to be the heterosexual heir I'm supposed to be.

Sometimes I imagine moving to New York to take over launching Pez's youth shelter there. Just leaving. Not coming back. Maybe burning something down on the way out. It would be nice.

9. How hard you try

10. How hard you've always tried.

11. How determined you are to keep trying.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

They all turn to look at him, and Alex feels a wave of something so much bigger than himself sweep over him, like when he was a child standing bowlegged in the Gulf of Mexico, rip-tide sucking at his feet. A sound escapes his throat uninvited, something that he barely even recognizes, and June has him first, then the rest of them, arms and arms and hands and hands, pulling him close and touching his face and moving him until he's on the floor, the goddamn terrible hideous antique rug that he hates, sitting on the floor and staring at the rug and the threads of the rug and hearing the Gulf rushing in his ears and thinking distantly that he's having a panic attack, and that's why he can't breathe, but he's just staring at the rug and he's having a panic attack and knowing why his lungs won't work doesn't make them work again.

He's faintly aware of being shifted into his room, to his bed, which is still covered in the godforsaken fucking newspapers, and someone guides him onto it, and he sits down and tries very, very hard to make a list in his head.

One.

One.

One

Once upon a time, there was a young Prince, who was born in a castle. And there had never been a prince quite like him: he was born with his heart on the outside of his body.

Whereas the other princes and noble children could withstand the slings and arrows of childhood, the Prince felt everything acutely. Everything seemed to touch and threaten his unprotected heart.

Oh for Christ sake Alex, for once! I wish you could see me for who I am and not who you want me to be! Sometimes, I don't think you know me at all!

I wasn't raised by a loving, supportive family like you were!

Nothing will ever happen to you.

I don't want your protection, I want your support.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Under The Water

Pairing: Hook x Reader

Warning: +18, smut

Beta’d by: @writtingrose

A/N: This is a birthday gift to Cami, one of the most important people in my life. I’ve known her forever and nowadays she’s an extension of my own self, so happy birthday to you, the lost half of my soul 🌹

Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl

Every once in a while something changes

And she's changing me

It's too late for me now, I am altered

There is something beneath

A thrill of emotions, whether it be because of the anonymity or because she wasn’t part of this industry, she wasn’t like the women he usually goes for. Maybe because of their secrets and intriguing traits about her, or even because the few hours Tyler spends inside a random hotel room in her company as well as inside her were the only moments where he allowed himself to just feel.

She's not acid nor alkaline

In his mind, she could only be compared to a tsunami: unpredictable, surprising, a fast-rising tide powerful enough to both destroy and fascinate. It was nothing like the familiar and calm everyday waves, it was chaotic.

Caught between black and white

A wall of water that traps you within it, cold and powerful enough to kill. Merciless, unforgiving, it had no thought, no emotion, nor rationality.

Not quite either day or night

It didn’t hesitate or stop, it was this ongoing flow of emotions of the rawest kind. It was life-changing, the kind that either made you be killed by it or reborn from it.

She's perfectly misaligned

Similar to drowning, she granted you a few spare seconds of fresh air before she wrapped you in her scent, in her chaotic yet pure essence.

I'm caught up in her design

Your lungs try to take in the oxygen, but they can’t. And then the panic, pure fear glazed with panic, the certainty of never floating up the surface again takes over your being.

And how it connects to mine

Fear and panic become acceptance and conformity, and you allow yourself to embrace whatever is to come, the unknown for once sounds so welcoming.

I see in a different light

The unfamiliar feeling of peace and quiet, one you cannot feel whilst living, finally engulfs your spirit. It’s liberating, tragic yet beautiful that something so dark, life-changing, and scary can feel so amicable and intimate. It’s the point of no return, you either surrender yourself to this experience and accept what it will bring you, or you fight against it and suffer until it finally releases you. In the beginning, it felt right to not give in, “survival instinct” is what they call it, but when the need for survival becomes toxic and does more evil than good you eventually stop fighting and start to see for yourself what embracing the unknown feels like.

There’s calm and silence beneath the water, you can’t hear anything or anyone, it’s as if there was only you in this world. And that’s how Tyler felt about it as if he was the only one who existed within her presence, and that’s how he wished to stay. Until someone eventually comes and unwillingly pulls him out of the water, giving him a chance to breathe in the suffocating fresh air once again.

The objects of my desire

���Ty” She called for the third time in a row “Your dad is calling you. You’re not gonna answer?”

His brown eyes fixed on her features, memorizing every detail of her face, imprinting it in his mind like a picture he had forever stared at.

“I’ll call him later” He sighed heavily, before turning off his phone and tossing it on the floor.

“Hey, are you ok?” Her hand cupped his smooth cheek, and Tyler felt the water embracing him again.

“Yeah, I’m fine” He briefly answered and allowed himself to float on the dark waters, he wasn’t ready to drown again, at least not yet.

“You don’t look fine. You’ve been acting weird since I told you I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again” She stated matter-of-factly

“I’m fine, tiger. Jesus fuck!”

Annoyance swept over him like a low tide, not powerful enough to cause any damage but it was still there, making its job of wetting the shore and turning the firm, secure ground into a mushy, soggy land that kept you in place, unable to move.

“Alright! I was just asking” She huffed while turning around so her bare back was now facing him.

His eyes traveled through her body, and his brown eyes stared at her soft hair spread out on the white pillowcase. Splashing some color, some life, on the white linen. Then he allowed his eyes to sink further down, they stopped at her tensed shoulders before they roamed down to her soft curves, and round hips, and eventually made their final stop on her exposed ass. Tyler could feel his body sinking, the floating would soon become drowning and he yearned for it.

He scooted closer to her on the bed, his strong chest pressed against her soft back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you like that”, he placed his chin on her shoulder before tilting his head to the side to place a sensual open mouth kiss on the pulse point of her neck.

Tyler’s nose inhaled deeply, taking in the natural scent of her skin mixed with her shower gel, and the remains of their wild sex. It lingered on her skin like the most expensive perfume, a sophisticated smell that belonged to her and her only, and that his system craved for it like a drug.

The warmth of his body caused the tension to leave her body through a deep sigh, her hand came to rest on his forearm - which was tossed around her waist - as he continued to speak:

“I’m just stressed with a few things that’s all”

“You know you can talk to me, Ty. Before anything we are friends, no?” Her eyes searched for him, needing to double-check her suspicions at the same time he scoffed “We passed ‘just friends’ about 20 fucks ago, tiger”.

Something crossed her eyes, it was either fear, despair, or uncertainty. Tyler wasn’t sure yet since she came across as extremely hard to read at times, and his own frantic heartbeat wasn’t helping his rational thinking at all.

A small laugh escaped her lips, and the light sound somewhat seemed to brighten up the room. Before he could stop himself, Tyler laughed along. Only being stopped by her lips covering his.

“Is that so?” She smirked, eyes glimmering with mischief as her hands traveled down his torso until they stopped below his navel.

Ooh, let's talk about chemistry

'Cause I'm dying to melt through

To the heart of her molecules

'Til the particles part like holy water

“Yeah” He nodded vigorously, teeth biting her jawline and causing her to giggle loudly, “It tickles” She giggled again when his next bite caused goosebumps to rise on her skin.

“You don’t want it to tickle? Should I make it hurt instead?” Tyler teased, biting harder only this time his teeth were on her neck.

The harsher action caused her to moan, but the sound was muffled by his hand a few seconds later.

“You’re being too loud, tiggy. Not that I care but your sounds are for me and me only. So next time you wanna moan, make sure to do that in my ear. I wanna be the only one to hear you tonight”

Something shifted in her eyes, the light innocence was quickly replaced with malice, and the chaste girl stepped aside for the little vixen to play. Her hands stopped at his groin, one hand closing around his hard cock while the other cupped his balls softly. The hand that covered her lips lost its power as soon as she began to pump her hand up and down his length.

She captured his pointer finger in her mouth before his hand could leave her lips, she sucked on the digit like a lollipop, tongue tracing the bones and humming at the taste of his skin. She let his finger slowly slide out of her mouth before she could tease him:

“Not so talkative anymore, huh? What happened, Ty? Can’t function with a hand around your cock?”

If anything, she's an undiscovered element

Either born in hell or heaven-sent

But either way I'm into it

“You’re lucky you’re so good at this” He groaned against her chin, open mouth momentarily covering her skin as he pulled back and darted out his tongue to lick a stripe across her lips.

Her smile grew into a pretentious one “Oh baby, don’t be coy. You know I’m good at everything” She chuckled before pushing him to the side so he was now laying down on the mattress.

Her thick thighs straddled his hips, not before she pressed his tip against her entrance. The burning feeling of being stretched by Tyler was always a welcome feeling despite the brief discomfort.

His hands gripped her hips, kneading the flesh beneath his palms and reveling in the feeling of having his hands full of her curves.

“Move, tiger. I need you to move” Tyler groaned, this was a sweet kind of torture he couldn’t take at the moment. Not when he was so close to drowning in her.

“Cockwarming is not your thing?” She teased with a smirk, trying so hard to keep as still as possible just to keep him on the edge.

“Not with you, no” He groaned again, sinking his nails into her flesh in the hopes that the pain will make her move

“And why is that?” The tentative smirk was still plastered on her lips as she managed to settle him even deeper in her

“Because you feel too good for me to not fuck you” Tyler’s hands rapidly left her hips so he could push her torso down until her breasts rested on his face. His mouth instantly opened, capturing a nipple between his lips and sucking on the small flesh until it hardened enough so he could softly bite into it. “Now move, tiger. I wanna feel you pulsating around me”

“So bossy, aren’t we?” She giggled as her hips slowly moved up and down his length. “Should I go hard enough to break the bed?” Her teasing tone caused him to pull back from her breast with a chuckle, “No, but you’re not allowed to stop until you’ve killed me” Tyler joked, and the minute he felt her purposefully clenching her walls around him, he had no doubts she could actually kill him, but shit isn’t this a sweet way to go. He placed his hands behind his head and took a deep sigh as she picked up the pace of her thrusting.

This was it, he was ready to drown again.