#trying not to make it a whole THING like I did with regal

[simgerale]

Get attacked!! ✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈✨

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Hail to the King, Baby | Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson brought you into the Hellfire Club room on your first day of being new to Hawkins - you never expected to be on your knees for him. And Eddie never expected to see you the next day.

Warning: SMUT!!! Oral M!Receiving, Blow Job, Language, Public Sex, Cocky!Eddie, Reader is 18+, Innocence Kink, Praise Kink,

Rating: E - NO MINORS!!!

Author's Note: So I used to run a Stranger Things blog in 2022. I'm in a writing slump at the moment so I figured it would be cool to reupload my work from that time.

Word Count: 6.3K

How can the world fuse two people together who have not been on the best terms? Is it due to lack of understanding, or lack of care? It's funny when you think about it in depth. People are brought together everyday through different circumstances. Some work out and some don't, that is just how it is at the end of the day. But at the same time, those who don't have the intent on working out always do - for some reason or another. Opposite ends of the social spectrum - no matter social class or religion, they can make things work. Its the matter of setting your mind to the goal, to see where this whole ship can lead them - whether its a rocky start or a flourishing end. No one will ever know if there is no try. Life cannot strive forth without these instances. All you truly have to do is give the other a chance, and see how much they can change your world after all. it's easier said than done yes but, isn't that an adventure within itself?

That's always what you thought - no matter what walks of life you or others were in, the best and sometimes the strangest relationships/friendships formed. Each person you meet on the daily plays a role in your life, whether it is to be a background character for a moment, to stir shut up, or to even to bring you a whole new sense of living. All the ones you gave chances to are still around to this day within your social circle - whether they are rude and malicious, or caring and loving. You make space for everyone, and like to see the difference within each person. Sometimes it drained you to no extent, constantly having to feel the sense of putting your best front on or enveloping yourself within this person's life if they do not have the intent to stay. Maybe it has to do with you being such a people pleaser. There was something about having to have that acceptance with every walking creature on Earth - knowing where you came from, where you grew up - they never gave you the positive reinforcement you needed. Abuse laid in its wake; You wanted to break that cycle.

When Hawkins, Indiana became the hub of cursed activity - you thought it was in a metaphorical sense. The countryside almost, more greenery and wildlife than you were use to. Growing up in the big city didn't give you that freedom like this small town could. So, you did what you could in your 1978 Buick Regal - packed everything you had and made the trek close to 600 miles away. You always loved ghost stories, quaint towns, and lively people - Hawkins seemed to call you quickly. Graduating from High School, and College before the age of twenty was remarkable in cases, landing you great opportunities. But in a way it isn't what you wanted - you wanted to explore, to adventure - to do sporadic moments on whim. Exactly like you're doing to this day - Hawkins was your post-bachelor's trip, now becoming your permanent home. You had no idea what it was but, something about Hawkins just stuck out to you, a calling almost. As if a darkened voice invaded your ears to say come home, though you are not from there. It would be where you made your roots, you could tell. Away from the hustle and bustle - away from the world.

It's when you arrived in Hawkins that things took a turn - you couldn't tell if it was for the better, or for the worst. There was this oily sheen that ran over the city, masking it as if it once was, rather than what it currently is. Downtown Hawkins held strips of businesses directly next to one another, slanted parking spots and lively chatter. A normal, unconvinced small town. They were like everyone else - poofy 80's hair, jeans, windbreakers - the whole nine years. Everyone looked happy; Sane. The more you drove through Hawkins you got to see that it wasn't all business - but pleasure too. Lovers lake, the lush greenery of the roads. Hell, even the schools looked great. It reminded you that you were on your last year, and needed to graduate in order to move on with your life. Being as young as you are, its difficult to make a name when no one takes you seriously. You had to learn from the locals, the ones who everyone despises - how to get passed that tomfoolery of dismissing your achievements. You would make them see, how could you not?

A Wednesday night in Hawkins had to be bumping - considering the influx of cars maneuvering their way into the high school parking lot. Earlier in the day when you had taken a tour of Hawkins High, you didn't anticipate to be coming whilst in the midst of a tournament for basketball. Hawkins was in the semi-finals as of this moment, if they won this game they would move on to the finals. A big thing for a small town - a big thing for a town that has lost so much in the last year. What could have been a better way to see Hawkins, than in full bloom? So many of its residence were sporting orange and green - waving small pompoms as if they were the cheerleaders - their enthusiasm lighting up the world. You couldn't help but smile, to feel engrossed in the atmosphere of what this school holds. It was tempting, enticing, and gorgeous. Something caught your vision though, to your right as you made a descend towards the funneled doors everyone was flowing through. A tall, slender figure with leather and denim, a chain in their pocket and a bandana in the back pocket of their jeans made their way through the other set of double doors, disappearing into the school. For a moment you wanted to chase the figure, but assumed it was part of the curse.

"Welcome to Hawkins, kiddo," you sighed to yourself - knowing exactly what your dad would say if he was still on this Earth. You didn't know this whilst attending Hawkins but, this is where your dad grew up, where he laid his roots. The original family of the small, tempting town - that is why it drew you in close, and snuffed out your past. You slid into the large crowd gathering inside, schmoozing through the bunch as everyone got their ticket checked. You on the other hand did not have to thankfully - since the guard from earlier told you it would be fine. Walking through the metal detectors at the front you pushed your way into the halls - seeing how bumping they were with excitement, and readiness. It was nostalgic almost, never getting to experience this for your own - but now even with being a smidge older it was lovely. You smiled wide as you followed the crowd into the gym - standing on the side of the bleachers whilst everyone found a spot. You weren't much of a stands kind of person, you'd rather stand by the door in case anything happens. Luckily for you, the spot was wide open and not as confined.

The last of the crowd started to come through and stake their claim on the wooden seats, sporting the Hawkins school colors as face paint and clothing - the cheers echoing directly next to you. The cheering started to die down when the principle of the High School made his way to the middle of the court - halting the bands movements. "And now to sing our National Anthem, all the way from Tennessee, Tammy Thompson!" He cheered, causing everyone to erupt into applause. The woman was pretty, curled hair that was slightly pinned back and gelled on the right side, Her white puffy jacket, Madonna lace gloves, and dangly pearl earrings were a statement within itself - her singing on the other hand, no one was ready for. As she began to sing the National Anthem, within the first second it was atrocious. You'd figure if Hawkins made it to the finals they would bring Tammy out - but maybe she was there for the semi-finals due to how appalling her voice was. In all honesty she sounded like a Muppet, a cross between Kermit and Ms. Piggy for sure. That was enough incentive for you to leave before your eardrums bled.

You quickly shuffled to find the exit of the gym, pushing the double door open hard to make it known someone was leaving. As you approached the vacant hallway, you were met with a nice - chill vibe spreading throughout the school. With everyone shacked up int he gym, it was easy to roam and not get yelled at. Hawkins High wasn't too big to begin with, one floor mostly but still large enough to hide. As you made two consecutive lefts in the building - you were met with the Stereo sound of Die by the Sword by Slayer coming through, causing you to bop your head. The large blackened double doors were clearly to the auditorium - every high school had one like this, plus the little plaque next to it gave it away. If someone was listening to Metal music in this school - then you had instantly found your people. Though you may not dress like a metal-head, you most certainly were. It was that preppy, and quaint exterior no one expected with a music taste like that.

Placing your hand on the door knob, you steadily pulled the blackened door open - being met with the instant smell of marijuana, paper and cleaning products. It was a whole wave of smells you needed to acclimate to, but what made it feel creepy was the elongated table awaiting on the stage, what looked to be a board set up with little figures. At the end of the table was a large Victorian Gothic-esque looking throne, reddened velvet cushioned for the chosen one. You snickered as you mentally made the remark, starting to move closer towards the stage. Each pass of the rows made you weary, wondering if someone was going to pop out and scare you, especially with how hard it was. But of course nothing did as you hit the bottom step. The closer you got to the table you could see the Dungeon and Dragons manual propped up for whoever the Dungeon Master was. All these small customized figurines and die laid on the game board, causing your eyes to twinkle. D&D was a game you loved playing back home, ever since middle school. It was exciting to immerse yourself into such gnarly campaigns, and reign victorious. It made you happy seeing it becoming more mainstream.

"Woah, so fucking cool," you let out with a smile as you trotted up the steps, standing near the throne as you crossed the stage. Overhead lights dimmed orange for ambiance, the drones of Slayer progressively got softer as your mind drifted to what each character meant - what the campaign must have entailed and so forth. You ran your fingers over the sanded edge of the table, feeling how sturdy it was in your grip. As for the chair off to your side, it was beckoning you forth to sit - to claim this spot as your own, until the players did show up. It made you smile seeing the excellent craftmanship of the throne, the blackened wood carved so intricately and beautiful. The velvet blood red cushion looked so plush, so soft. You could nap in this chair easily, if given the chance. "Hey! Yeah, no. No, no normies in my Hellfire Club," a sharp voice sprang up near you, coming from behind the curtains with a whole twelve pack of Pepsi, and a few bags of chips. You jumped at the booming voice, clutching your chest as you squeaked.

"I-I'm sorry!" You responded without thinking, always afraid of being caught. As you looked up at the man who spoke, you were taken aback by who it was. A tall, lanky figure. Brown hair that was the same softness and length as a lion's mane. Dark, obsidian eyes that showed every emotion possible. Full, beautiful pink lips. Leather and denim clad his torso as the devil on his shirt stood out perfectly. Darkened jeans with a chain connecting to the belt loop and wallet, a pirate skull bandanna hanging out of the back of his pants. Your breath was hitched in your throat as you came to realize, this was the figure you saw earlier coming into the school. This is my Hellfire Club. It all made sense now - you heard about the D&D club earlier on in the day but never connected the dots. It made your heard waver knowing kids got to enjoy the game without the satanic panic to back it up, and to have such an attractive leader made all the difference. Your body was frozen as you stared at the man, truly incomprehensible in this moment. "I-I got distracted." It wasn't a lie, you did. Tammy Thompson's awful singing made you flee to the auditorium - and boy were you happy you did so.

"I heard Die by the Sword play and got excited because Slayer is one of my favorite bands and Show No Mercy has to be one of their best albums, I couldn't pass that up especially since its so nostalgic for me and Tom Araya honestly is a bass god-" you rambled, causing the man to hold his hand up, trying to comprehend the words you were saying. "You, like Slayer?" He cocked his brow, crossing his arms over his chest. It was almost as if he couldn't believe the facts you knew, or that someone dressed as preppy could possibly enjoy it. But it wasn't the truth - he was more or less wondering where you had been all of his life, and how someone so genuine could have just sprang up in his life today. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you nodded, shy and innocent all of a sudden. "I-I do, I love Slayer. Second favorite goes to Iron Maiden. Judas Priest a close third. I-I'm sorry for interrupting, I will go. It was nice to meet you, though." You waved softly as you turned your eyes from the man, ducking your head and keeping your eyes down as you headed towards the stairs. "You don't...have to leave, if you don't want to," he replied, his tone softer than before.

Spinning slowly to gaze over your shoulder, you bit your lip gently, toying with it in between your teeth. "Are you sure? I-I don't want to intrude." You didn't but at the same time you wanted to know this man, see where he came from and what made him loved D&D, along with Slayer. He shook his head with a softened gaze, tilting his head to beckon you over. "I'm Eddie." Eddie, perfect in person as his name is in your head. You shot Eddie a bright smile, returning the niceties with your own name which made the pale man blush - smiling over to you gently. That tough boy exterior you were expecting did fizzle out quickly, and instead was placed by a giant teddy bear - the softest of men in Hawkins. "So, big Slayer fan - have you ever played D&D?" The question caught you off guard, the intimate silence both yourself and Eddie basked in was dissipating. Processing the question as you had, you nodded with a gleaming grin, ready to spurt off on how you loved the game, but decided to reel it back in. "I have - it's my favorite board game! I haven't played in close to a year but, my stats are pretty good - not to brag or anything." That seemed to light a fire under Eddie as he plopped down into the throne, sitting back whilst his elbows rested against the arm of the chair. "Oh yeah? Amuse me."

"Well," you started, moving closer to Eddie's side so you could tell him, running your fingers over the mimic figurines. "So my name is Thia Sondrall. I am a level 37 chaotic evil rogue dark elf with a range attack of 120 feet, who also wields the sun blade which is basically just a bitchin' lightsaber." The passion and happiness you had for Dungeon and Dragons truly beamed within your voice, causing Eddie's eyes to widen with amazement. He was not expecting you to be so high of a level, nor was he expecting you to have such amazing stats. "My nickname is Nat 20, because I only go for high with attacks." There was a brim of cockiness in your tone, which you had every right to be. It was fun after all, creating these sheets and bringing such a wonderful character to life. Thia was your first ever character you created, birthed into existence, she was your golden girl. It was official, you had blown Eddie's mind out of the water. D&D player, metal lover, he was in whatever heaven was said to be. "Where have you been all of my life?" He retorted without thinking, eyes shooting wide at his own comment. The redness on his cheeks amplified.

Your own eyes went wide with shock, but the smile on your face spoke other measures. "I was thinking the same thing," you beamed - tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you made your eyes connect with Eddie's. There was something else cascading through those mocha eyes of his - glints of golden flecks swimming in his irises. But besides the admiration, there was more. Desire. Lust. You couldn't differentiate the two - but you knew that he could sense it on you as well. "I saw you earlier when I first came in - honestly I was tempted to follow you and not attend the game. I am glad my instinct was right about that one." It sounded creepy in your mind but, it was the truth after all. You thought Eddie would have been skeeved out by your revelation but, he was not. In fact, his eyebrow slanted upwards as he tried to find the hidden message between your lips - trying to coax what you really meant out. Tilting his head back against the throne, he shot you a sly smirk, eyes wavering over your face and body. "Just my satanic powers bringing new victims in," he joked with a snort, waving his fingers around whimsically. It was an obvious joke but, you decided to play along with it.

Showing the shock of your face, you pretended as if Eddie was dragging your body forward, stumbling comically as you latched onto his chair. At first Eddie thought it was corny, but as you grew closer he laughed out loud - thinking it was the funniest thing he has seen in a bit. If someone could be as outlandish and funny as him, he loved it. As you snickered with him, he waved his fingers again, making them dance theatrically around your head. The closeness you two had was unmatched; A zing of energy flying through you to Eddie. You could tell he felt it as well, the way his eyes gleamed and glimmered for you. Bringing your eyes down to his lips, then back up to eyes - you signaled for what you were craving. The gap between your faces started to lessen as Eddie leaned over the arm on the left side, sliding his right hand to cup your cheek. Your eyes closed instinctively as you felt his supple lips pressed against yours, his hair covering your field of vision on the sides - engrossing you completely to his being. It had been a long while since you were last kissed, and you couldn't imagine a better person to do this.

The kisses slid from soft, sweet and shy at first - to pointed, passionate and direct. Eddie's lips moved feverously against yours, holding your face just a bit tighter to steady you out. Your left hand came up to his denim vest, harshly tugging on the collar to bring him closer. It's when Eddie's tongue licked at your bottom lip that you let out the filthiest whimper you could, causing Eddie to pull back, breathless. "Fuck, that was hot." The lust lacing his tone caused your eyes to dilate wider; Your breath started to pick up as Eddie ghosted his lips over the juncture of your neck and jaw, nipping lightly at the skin. A mewl released from deep down within your lungs, pulling you closer and closer to him. You could see your arousal soaking your panties beneath your jeans, rocking your hips slightly to break up some of the tension. Your hand found purchase on Eddie's leg, keeping you steady and from falling over. But little did you realize, you had grabbed a completely different section of him. The thick length, buzzing and throbbing within your grasp, twitched slightly at your grasp. It caused Eddie to omit a low growl, biting at your pulse point. A gasp ripped straight out of you whilst Eddie suctioned his mouth around the bite - soothing it with tentative licks.

You laced your free hand in Eddie's hair, yanking him back to see his lips swollen and glistening from kissing. Both of your labored breaths melded as one, his eyes as dark as the night above. Still in your crouched form, you slid your body around to the front of Eddie, pushing yourself under the table. Doe eyes of yours met his with passion, wondering exactly what the plan is. A charming, sensual wink was sent up to Eddie - giving him a small glimpse into what he is getting himself wrapped into. All Eddie could do was nod rapidly, moving both of his hands down to put your hair into a makeshift ponytail. The eagerness he placed helped out a lot; Your fingers moved to grab at Eddie's belt, pulling the opposite end through the loop and letting it fall open - moving nimble fingers to undo his top jean button, and yank the zipper down harshly. Upon opening the unzippered flap, Eddie's cock was already threatening to jut out of his red briefs. The strain providing his erection caused you to whine, wanting nothing more than to stuff your mouth full of the brunette. Quickly you slid your fingers into the waist band of his underwear, yanking down the fabric enough to let his thick length release from its constraint. A sigh of relief came out of Eddie, ready for whatever you'd give him.

Making your eyes look as innocent as possible was the goal, Eddie needed to see how soft you truly are. As he gazed down into your gorgeous eyes, he couldn't keep his mouth closed - he needed you to know; "So beautiful." The praise had your eyes almost rolling back, a fresh wave of your essence sliding against the cotton of your panties. You placed your hands in a triangle around the base of Eddie's heavy cock, stabilizing the muscular flesh whilst darting your pink tongue out. As slow as you could go, you placed one solid lick from base to top, sliding carefully over the thick vein. The underside of his cock binged and purged to your will, sputtering out some of Eddie's own seed. Right as your tongue came to lick around the mushroomed head of his penis, you angled it precisely to slot your tongue around his slit - lapping his precome up like it was nothing. Never did you once take your eyes off of Eddie's, watching how his whole face contorted with pleasure. His mouth hung open , eyes narrowing to keep his only focus on you. His thick, ring clad fingers grasped your hair tighter, swirling your head slightly to envelop his whole tip. "Sweetheart, I need you." You were not able to let Eddie fall to his own suffices, especially when he needed you.

Grabbing the base of his cock with your right hand, you sank your mouth over his length completely, sheathing it in between your lips. You felt the tip graze the back of your throat before you pulled up once more, swirling the first inch of him in your mouth. As you watched Eddie, you saw his eyes rolling into the back of his head, hips threatening to thrust up as you bring your mouth down again. Eddie was a goner; If he didn't get it before he got it now. The feeling of your tight, wet, warm mouth on him was driving him crazy. To keep you from gagging he had to do some serious intense holding, tensing his stomach so he couldn't thrust upwards. Each time you would pull back he wanted nothing more than to chase the feeling, engulfing his being with all of you. Between Eddie's grip on your hair and his sweetened sounds, you didn't know what was better. It was better than any song you had ever heard - he was truly magical. His moans slipped into whimpers and whines when you'd pull back - hearty and real when you would swallow him down. No one, and he means no one, gave head like you did. Though Eddie has only gotten a blow job once when he was fifteen, five years later you were giving his first a run for his money.

You created a steady rhythm with Eddie's hand movements and minuscule thrusts, meeting each one in tandem with the next. Sweat started to line the brow of Eddie, making his bangs stick thickly to his skin. The lights were warm around you, but your sexiness was making him clammy. He had never laid eyes upon a more perfect woman than yourself, and he was going to show you all the ways he saw your beauty. "Good girl, you are driving me crazy," Eddie let out a chuckle that slipped into a wholehearted moan the second you swallowed around his tip. That movement in itself made his hips snap forward, shoving his girthy length further down your throat. Due to rubbing against your uvula, it made you gag harshly as you pulled back, your eyes brimming with tears. You should've panicked but, you had to admit you loved it. As did Eddie, now holding your hair tightly to move at his pace. Your softness and delicate side was no match for him, it teased him, edged him beyond belief. Eddie promised himself he would make it up to you later, hearing the howls of Jeff and Gareth coming up the hallway. He realized in that moment, he was close to busting, but close to getting caught as well.

"Fuck me, sweetheart I'm so close-" Eddie let out before cutting himself off, gripping the back of your head. surging his cock deep down your throat. The action of Eddie made you moan quite loudly around his length, head so close to bumping against the top of the table. You loved the feeling of him deep within your mouth, using you for his own personal pleasure. You did not expect your first day in Hawkins High to be so dirty, but you were thanking whoever was listening for bringing you two souls together. Both of your hands rested flat against Eddie's parted thighs, digging your fingertips into the hardened flesh. You were willing to let Eddie ruin every hole your body had, marking them as his for all eternity. One day he would, after Hellfire he was going to show you what he was made of, and you would gladly accept. Hollowing out your mouth as Eddie's thrusts started to speed up, you were aiding in his release. He knew he would not be able to last; He needed you.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" Eddie screamed, holding your head over his cock as his high erupted. Digging your whole palm into his thigh you felt your throat contract around him, forcing you to breathe through your nose. Garbled moans and mewls slipped around Eddie's thick cock as he worked himself through his high - the salty musk of his seed coating your tongue and belly. Looking up at Eddie with tear stained eyes, you were drinking in his orgasm face - the perfect O his lips created as his eyes fluttered shut. His labored breaths only made your nipples perk, wondering how they would sound at his home instead. Each spurt from the tip of his cock was immaculate, gathering his seed on your tongue. Once Eddie had started to feel himself soften he carefully removed himself from you, watching how a few drops of his spend dribbled down your chin, taking his thumb he cleaned up the mess, and pushed it between your lips. But what took him by surprise was how he felt his sticky seed coating your tongue, bringing your lips further in to capture his ring as well. A wink was sent his way under the table as you swallowed down all he gave you, listing his thumb clean as well.

"You naughty little thing," Eddie smirked, a bright - whimsical smile on his lips, wide and proud. Licking your lips to relish in the taste of this dungeon master, you pushed forth to give him a short, sweet peck on the lips, bringing it over to his cheek and slightly stubbly chin. At his words you pulled back and nodded innocently, puffing your bottom lip out as you tucked his softened member away. "Maybe you should take me back to your place, and teach me a lesson." Eddie was tempted to say the least; If your mouth was that good he knew your cunt would be even better. He almost said fuck it and dipped from Hellfire but, he would never leave his brothers hanging. "Holy shit - Eddie fucking Munson - you dog!" A somewhat high-pitched voice let out, causing you two to look over to stage right. Standing in the doorway were six guys, ranging in age. Your eyes went wide, as did Eddie's, as you saw the others of Hellfire club gawking. "You absolute legend!" One of them cheered, as the other whacked the kid named Mike. Smacking him was the one named Dustin - who just so have happened to spoke first.

"Gentlemen, meet Lady Thia - our new teammate," Eddie smirked, pushing the throne back so you could step out from under the table. With your hair slightly disheveled, you patted it down as much as you could, waving to the six men standing before you. It was your turn to now be smitten, as Eddie once was. Watching you take his cock like a champ, then use that filthy mouth to speak to his friends, turned him on once more. But as he buckled his pants back up, he puleld over a chair just for you, sandwiching you between himself, and Lucas. To say the least, it would be an interesting night.

-----

To say the night went by in a blink was an understatement - it flew by so quick you could've sworn you were in hyperspace. After the epic win that was D&D with Hellfire, Eddie had shucked you into his van - wanting to pick up where you both last left off. The trek down to the trailer park wasn't too far - and with his uncle working nights at the plant it meant you two would be undisturbed for the night. Eddie kept on his promise and showed you fifteen different ways he could make you come undone; On him, beside him, over him - it was the best night of your life. When you both were too sticky and sweaty to do anything else, he curled right on into your body, letting you look your arms around him. Going to bed holding Eddie was special, but waking up being held by him was way better. Though his alarm blaring into your ears was not the best wake up call - but him giving you head was. To that, you wrote down your number for him, and told him when you'd be free next. He couldn't wait to take you out, learn more about you, and show you how serene Hawkins can be.

You wished that you were still in bed with Eddie, instead of putting your lunch away at your first day on the job. Lucky for you to find such a great position for the money - and hours as well. The teachers lounge at Hawkins High was definitely spacious and breathable, you know when teachers weren't chain smoking. Covering your mouth so you didn't have another coughing fit, you proceeded to shut the fridge and make your way to Mr. Jefferies classroom - ready to help the senior level botany class. It was exciting, the tingles spread throughout your fingertips as you started to cement yourself within Hawkins. You could see yourself settling down here, now having a reason too with this job, and of course Eddie. As the bell rang to switch classes, you finally made your way into the botany class, waving to Mr. Jefferies as you wrote your name on the board. Body after body started to file in; You were told the class only had about twelve students, so it would be a great start. Still, the nerves bubbled up within your stomach.

"I told you Jeff, I am not spilling shit about last night - that stays between her and I." You heard the conversation ring out with a familiar voice, but decided against it. You just missed him too much, that was it. Plus, you could still feel the pulsing of his mouth on your neck, branding a perfect purple o - that was a bitch to cover with concealer this morning. The warning bell sounded as the door shut with the last student, causing you to place the chalk down and clap the dust off of your hands. "Good morning class - we have a special guest here with us for the rest of the year," Mr. Jefferies began, motioning over to you, and the board with your last name on their. "She will be joining us as my teaching assistant, while she finishes out her masters degree in Education over Indiana State University." You were lucky Hawkins High was about fifteen minutes away from ISU, making it easier to wrap up your last year in school. This was going to be it, the start of the rest of your life.

"Hello everyone!" You beamed as you spun around, looking over the fresh faces in your new class. Instantly your eyes were drawn to the back of the class where one Eddie Munson sat - eyes wider than they were the day prior, mouth hanging open in disbelief. You felt the same gut punch as you stared into his beautiful eyes, not realizing that he would be one of your now students. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you pressed on; Eddie watched you like a hawk as you spoke. Jeff on the other hand found that to be so rich, snickering as he punched Eddie's shoulder. "Eddie you are a fucking legend! You banged the hot TA! Dude no one will ever live up to this!" It should have felt like a notch on Eddie's belt, knowing he was sleeping with the hottest person in Hawkins High now. But he felt more tension approach, wondering if this meant you wouldn't want to see him again. That was until you made your rounds with the pop quiz for the day, leaving Jeff and Eddie for last. "Mr. Munson, I am advised you are needing a tutor for Mr. Jefferies class this year?" You hummed as Eddie looked at you in disbelief, slowly nodding his head to not seem rude.

"Good, follow these directions. We have a lot to learn about each other, and botany," you sent a wink inconspicuously to Eddie, pushing the index card with your office hours, and your sticky note for him closer to his hand. He got the gist quickly, slipping it into his pocket without anyone noticing. As you slipped back to the front of the class, Eddie spun sideways in his seat to open the sticky note, wondering what it could possibly say. Your delicate handwriting filled out the entire page; The first line making his cock twitch. "Eddie the Banished - for your first quest this school year, I command you to answer my question. Am I wearing anything under my skirt today? If you think you know the answer, meet me during study hall in Room 211." His eyes were bugging out of his head, desire-filled and staring directly back at you. With a devilish smirk he flashed his eyes over your legs, trailing to the curve of your backside, knowing for a fact your panties were currently in his jacket pocket.

This wasn't the end of what you two had created last night, but only the wonderful beginning.

[felassan]

Letters from Lovers

Transcriptions of the letters from the various gear store items. under cut for length.

Isabela:

“My dear Hawke, Do you know anyone with a flock of parrots? I'm trying to cheat on a bet with Varric and the stakes are exceedingly high. If you help me, I shall take you to that breathtaking beach you so crave. Free of ancient horrors, too. I think. I'd hate to take respite from all my adventures, but there are other ways to make the heart flutter. In fact I'm already imagining a few. Aren't you? Sailing there can be fatal, but Admiral Isabela will keep you safe. Are you interested? I would love to see you again. Yours, Isabela”

Morrigan:

“My love, Now before that grin reaches your ears, perish the thought that this letter was my idea. 'Tis Kieran who would not give me peace until I wrote to ask how you are faring. Regale us, if you please, with another of your tales that I might read to him in bed. He is particularly fond of those wherein you spur mischief whilst you save the day. Thank you for your most delightful gifts. I shall make certain to wear them the next time you come home. Dream of me until then, my Hero of Ferelden, and have a care. Morrigan”

Dorian:

“My dearest Amatus, Home is ever as it was: a glittering whirl of dancing, politics, and murder. I'm used to people staring daggers at me - I quite relish it, actually - but the glares seem to possess a new intensity since my return to Tevinter. Do they disapprove of House Pavus freeing its slaves while I work in the Magisterium to end slavery across Tevinter? Perhaps they simply covet my cheekbones, and who could blame them? Real reform will take time, but we're making inroads. I miss you terribly, Amatus, perhaps almost as much as you miss me. I treasure you and your belief in my work here. Yours always, Dorian P.S. I wouldn't take it amiss if you might send me another barrel of that dreadful Fereldan beer?”

Alistair:

“My love, How are you? Is it true that you recently killed darkspawn with only a mean glare and a pointy stick? Ferelden is ablaze with this rumor! You do give people so much hope. Tales of your heroism never fail to astonish me and almost ease the pain of going to sleep without you by my side. Almost. I can't wait to be with you again. I'd bring you some roses, you could give me a tour of the keep, we'd drink with the new recruits and then cuddle in a tent. Without the new recruits! Tent time is just for the two of us. I want to make that clear. Now excuse me while I practice my death glare and rummage through the dog's stash of sticks. I love you. Yours forever, Alistair.”

The Iron Bull:

“Kadan, You won’t believe what I did today. I got a guy to flip! Twice! So yes, all is well. Except for all the demons. And this whole thing in which I’m far away from the love of my life. Really keeps me up at night. Anyway, you hearing these rumors of a dragon on the loose? Yeah! The boys and I are on its trail. Last I heard, it was flying toward the Frostback Mountains. Can you join us? I hope you’re not uh… all tied up. Don’t worry, I’m fairly certain it’s not a Ben-Hassrath trap. And if it is, you know I’m prepared. Ataash varin kata! I love you, Kadan. See you soon. The Iron Bull.”

Tali:

“By the way, I left something for you up in your cabin. Go have a look.” - Tali’Zorah  --- “Dear Shepard,   As you may remember, I presented this picture frame to you as a gift on the Normandy. It was my way of expressing my admiration for you and our bond as comrades-in-arms. On the back of the metal frame, I've emblazoned a promise that will never fade - 'Shepard, wherever you go, I'm with you.'  I know it's not much, but...this is what I look like under the mask. I'm sorry if it's not what you were expecting. I know Quarian faces can be a bit...different. Every time you look at my picture, I hope you will be reminded of our adventures on the Normandy, from our battles against the Reapers to our intimate conversations in the privacy of our quarters.    I am not one to express my emotions openly, but thank you for being my friend, my confidante, and my inspiration. I look forward to many more adventures together.  Keelah se’lai,   Tali’Zorah”

Another letter from Tali:

"Whatever the galaxy throws at us, I'll be at your side. - Tali" --- "Shepard It's been a while since I last struggled to sleep. You must be dreaming of falling through a fish tank or starring in a hanar vid? I can hear you muttering about jellyfish. It's funny. I've spent my whole life hoping for the future, but these days nothing scares me more. Keelah, why can't we stop time? Even for just a little bit? No war, no Reapers, nobody counting on us. Just you and me, as free as the dust in the solar wind. When this is all over, will you settle down on Rannoch with me? I love you. - Tali"

Bonus:

Shepard's N7 acceptance letter, from Anderson:

“N7 Congratulations on your graduation From Captain David Anderson Shepard, When I graduated from the N7 program I had the honor of meeting Admiral Grissom, the man who inspired me to pursue a career in the service, and I never thought I’d feel prouder in my life. I was mistaken. Don’t get me wrong, it was a big day. An important day. But there’s something about welcoming driven young people like yourself into the ranks that’s also pretty damn satisfying. Your distinguished service record may have gotten you into this program - but it was your courage, integrity, and tenacity that’s enabled you to join an elite few. You represent the best of humanity, and I feel certain you’ll make the galaxy a better place. And I’m not the only one who feels this way. Becoming an N7 means the entire Systems Alliance is telling you one thing - we believe in you. Let me end by saying this. Welcome to the team Shepard. We know you won’t let us down. David Anderson Systems Alliance Interplanetary Combatives Academy N7 N7 Acceptance Letter”

[candycandy00]

Character: Sukuna

Theme: Pirate Ship

Spice: NSFW (I wanna SMELL the smut)

Mood: Dark with flickers of ligt

Kinks: Beautiful shy virgin reader, size difference, a bit of pain, bondage, a bit of spanking, a sprinkle of non-con

Please and Thank you

The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Noncon/Rape! Very rough sex! Bondage. Violence. Blood. Mentions of suicide. Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned! 

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be two (possibly three) parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!

Relentless cannon fire from above leaves your ears ringing as you cower below deck with the other passengers. This was supposed to be an uneventful trip to the island, where you intended to take a job as a maid for a rich noble. The voyage should have lasted four days, but two days in, this happens. 

This being a pirate attack. The crew of the ship you’re on commanded all the passengers to hide below deck while they tried to outrun the pirate ship that was rapidly approaching, last you saw. In the dark of night, the pitch black sails of the massive ship were terrifying in the flashes of light from the cannons. 

Now you can only tremble as you and the others cling to each other, listening to the sounds of men shouting and cursing above. Cannon fire gives way to rifle and pistol fire, and that can only mean one thing: the pirates have boarded. 

A fight breaks out. You can hear bodies falling, people screaming. The woman beside you is crying. “It’ll be alright,” you tell her, trying to force a smile onto your face. “They might just take our money and belongings and leave.” It certainly isn’t unheard of. 

She gives you a pitying stare. “They’ll kill us all. Well, maybe not you, with your looks. But you’ll probably wish you were dead.”

You’re not stupid. You know how this will most likely play out. But you were trying to comfort her, to give her a little bit of hope. You wish she’d done the same for you. Maybe then your hands would stop shaking. 

The door leading up to the deck is suddenly ripped open, making several passengers scream in alarm. Two unfamiliar men with guns climb down.

“All of you, get up there,” one of them says, waving his rifle around and pointing toward the deck. 

Like lambs marching off to be slaughtered, you and the other passengers grimly climb the rickety wooden steps to reach the deck. What you find is a nightmare come to life. 

Bodies litter the whole ship. Blood has splattered everywhere. The captain of your vessel is being held by two brawny pirates, their swords at his throat. He’s covered in bloody gashes and has a black eye, his regal looking coat ripped and dirty. 

Many of the pirates are holding torches, so many that the deck is well lit. You look around in stunned silence, your eyes shifting from one horror show to the next until you and the rest of the passengers are all lined up single file. Then several pirates step behind the line and begin tying everyone’s wrists behind their backs. The man tying yours gropes your ass through your dress, making you squirm. 

Once everyone is tied up, one of the pirates yells out, “All ready for you, Capn’!” 

Another man, standing close to the passengers, says, “Look lively! Captain Sukuna’s boarding the ship!”

At the sound of the captain’s name, you feel your heart sink down your body, settling somewhere in your feet. Some of your fellow passengers cry out in despair. One woman, in a panic, breaks the line. She runs straight to the side of the ship and throws herself overboard. You understand why she did it. 

Captain Ryomen Sukuna is notorious for his cruelty, for his complete lack of mercy when it comes to women, whom he treats just as (if not more) brutally as he does men. You’re still haunted by stories you’ve heard about the bodies found on ships he’s plundered. Women and men alike stripped and skewered, cut into chunks, ripped apart. There were even rumors that he ate some of his victims! 

Naturally, you’ve never seen him before. His wanted posters only have his name and a vague description: a tall, muscular man with black tattoos all over his body. That could describe a lot of pirates. 

But now, you’re about to get a crystal clear image of him. You hear heavy footsteps walking across the deck from behind you, and then he finally steps around the line of passengers and comes into view. 

The words “tall” and “muscular” do not do him justice. He’s huge, with broad shoulders and a chiseled torso visible beneath the white shirt unbuttoned to his waist. You can also see the lines of black tattoos, on his face and chest, drawing your eye toward his toned abdomen. He has pink hair, slicked back away from his face, and intense red eyes. 

Something about his appearance captivates you, makes it impossible for you to tear your eyes away. He’s objectively handsome, in a rugged, masculine way. But he’s also terrifying. You can almost feel the bloodlust radiating off him. 

He begins walking down the line, stopping in front of a pretty young woman to look her over. “This one,” he says, and another pirate pulls her out of the line, dragging her off to the side to wait. Sukuna continues, occasionally pausing to regard a woman. “This one,” he says again, and another lady is dragged over to stand beside the first one. 

When he reaches you, he stops and faces you, his eyes roaming up and down your form. Your heart is racing, your breaths coming fast and shallow. There’s a hunger in his expression as his gaze burns into you, lingering on your heaving chest. “This one,” he says, red eyes glinting in the light of the torches, a grin on his face. 

A pirate pulls you from the line and shoves you over to stand with the other two women as Sukuna continues his walk. In the end, you and six other women are chosen. You all huddle together, still bound, while Sukuna turns to his crew. “Take care of the rest!”

At those words, a frenzy of violence begins. You can only watch in horror as the rest of the passengers are stripped of all clothing and belongings, the women screaming at the indignity, and then systematically murdered by the pirates. Most are stabbed with swords or daggers, some have their throats slit, and a few are simply thrown overboard. 

The woman you spoke to below deck cries out as a pirate stabs her repeatedly in the stomach. You close your eyes, no longer able to bear the sight of so much spilled blood. 

It’s almost as if you’re in a daze as you and the other six women are taken over to Sukuna’s ship. There’s no fight in you, no hope. Your arms are tied behind you and you’re totally surrounded by large, armed pirates. There’s no chance of escape. You can guess why you seven were chosen, and you’re starting to wonder if you should throw yourself overboard like the desperate woman you saw earlier. Death by drowning would be preferable to the fate that awaits you. 

Sukuna walks over to the group of terrified women and points directly at you. “Take her to my quarters. You men can share the others.”

The men cheer and the women scream. You look over at Sukuna, and your eyes meet his. Again, he gives you a grin, and the look on his face says it all: this man is going to enjoy destroying you. 

You’re dragged down a small set of stairs and through a heavy wooden door. You find yourself in a lavish cabin, full of rich furnishings like a glossy wooden dresser and deep red velvet blankets on a huge bed. There are lanterns lit all around the room, giving it an opulent atmosphere. It smells of fresh wood and sea breeze and some sort of incense. 

You only have a few minutes alone before the door swings open and the captain walks in. He closes the door behind him, sealing your fate, then shrugs off his long black coat. He’s left in black leather pants that fit him a little too well and the thin white shirt that’s mostly unbuttoned. You’ve never seen a man with such a well built body before, and it almost distracts you from the terror you feel at being alone in a room with this monster. 

He looks at you, eyes freely drinking in your entire body. “I’m sure you know what’s going to happen to you,” he says, standing a few feet away, “but just in case you’re stupid, I’ll make it clear. We’ve got a two week voyage ahead of us, and you’re going to be my entertainment. If you don’t please me, I’ll toss you to the crew to be passed around until you die.”

You shiver, tears welling up in your eyes. How are you supposed to keep him pleased? You’ve never even touched a man in a sexual way before. 

He steps closer, and you step further back, shying away from him. He looks slightly annoyed. “Did you understand what I said, woman?”

You sniffle, trying to hold back your tears. With your hands behind your back, you can’t even wipe your eyes. You’ve truly never been so helpless. “I… I understand,” you finally say, afraid of angering him. “It’s just… I’ve never…”

His eyes seem to glow with excitement. “Oh? An innocent maiden? In my quarters? You’re like a baby lamb that’s been thrown to the wolves.” He laughs and moves closer. You’re frozen to the spot, remembering his annoyed expression when you stepped back before. When he’s right in front of you, you’re again struck by just how tall he is. He completely dwarfs you. This close, you can feel his body heat, can smell the heady mix of blood and sea water on his skin. 

You’re terrified. You want nothing more than to flee, even though you have no idea where you could possibly flee to. But your eyes keep being drawn to those tattoos trailing down his torso, disappearing below his belt. “Please,” you say in a small quivering voice, “if only the first time… please don’t hurt me.”

That frightening grin spreads over his mouth again as one large hand moves up to touch your teary face. “My poor little maiden, I’m going to hurt you. And I’m going to enjoy hurting you.”

You draw in quick shuddering breaths as tears streak your face, drizzling over his fingers, your eyes large and glassy as you stare up at him. 

His hand moves down to your neck as his other hand rests on your shoulder. “I’m going to thoroughly break you, split you in two on my cock, make you scream until your throat is raw and bloody. Well, more than just your throat will be raw and bloody.”

Your body is shaking with held back sobs. How could he be so cruel? But you don’t have time to think more on it, because his hands are suddenly on the front of your dress. In one savage motion, he rips it completely open with his bare hands, totally exposing you down to your waist. 

******************

Sukuna laughs as the sweet little maiden shrieks and draws back away from him, trying to turn her body to hide her nakedness. With her arms bound, she can’t even try to cover herself. He grabs her shoulder and forces her to face him, drinking in the sight of her bare, heaving breasts. It’s been a while since he’s had a woman so shapely, so perfectly formed to his taste. He can’t wait to see the rest of her. 

Wasting no time, he tears the rest of her dress off, as well as her thin undergarments. She’s left cowering before him, trembling, trying to clamp her legs shut. How adorable. 

Ah, such a lovely, delicate little flower, just ripe enough for him to pluck. But he doesn’t just want to pluck her. He wants to take this beautiful, tender blossom and grind it into powder. 

With one hand he grips her chin and lifts her face up, forcing her to look at him. Nothing arouses him more than a pretty face wet with tears, terrified eyes peering up at him, quivering lips unable to even form words. 

The thought of destroying this pure, innocent creature has him rock hard. 

His hand moves to the side of her face, his thumb tracing over her plump lips. Her eyes shift down, and he realizes this has happened multiple times since he entered the room. What does she keep looking at? What could be so distracting in a moment like this? He follows her gaze, and it leads to his chest, the tattoos clearly visible beneath his unbuttoned shirt. 

Is she… staring at his body? A virgin that’s about to be violated is distracted by his tattoos? Oh, this is delicious! 

He releases his hold on her and steps back, then pulls off his shirt and tosses it aside. As he suspected, her eyes widen as they roam over the black ink lining his torso. Her lips part and the fear on her face gradually shifts to something else. 

“See something that interests you?” he asks, smirking at her. 

She shakes her head, looking embarrassed. “N-no!”

His hands move to his belt, and she watches as he unbuckles it, then opens his pants. He hears her breath hitch slightly when she sees that the tattoos continue down, and when he pulls his fully erect cock out, she lets out a small scream. 

Sukuna grins to himself. He’s certainly used to women screaming when they see it for the first time. He’s very aware of the fact that his cock is unusually large. To her virgin eyes, it probably looks like a beast ready to attack her. 

The fear has returned to her face, and it makes him want to ravage her immediately. He looks at her lovely mouth, at her lips as soft as rose petals, and pushes her down to her knees in front of him. 

********************

You’re so scared you can’t even speak as Captain Sukuna forces you to your knees, his monstrously huge rod right in front of your face. It terrifies you, but even it has two black lines tattooed around the base of it, demanding your attention. 

“Open your mouth,” he commands, and you hesitantly obey. 

The tip of his meaty cock touches your tongue. “If you bite,” he says, staring down into your eyes, “I’ll rip every tooth out of your head and then fill your bloody mouth with my cum. Do you understand?”

You’re afraid to nod your head, afraid to move at all, so you murmur out, “Mmhmm.”

That’s all he needs to hear before he shoves himself into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you gag and choke. He pulls out slightly, then shoves in again, going partially down your now sore throat. He repeats this, in and out, mercilessly fucking your mouth as tears flood your eyes. You barely get a chance to breathe when he pulls back, and at some point he grips your hair, holding your head steady.

“You’re not trying to please me at all,” he says, frowning down at you. “Use your tongue, your lips, your whole mouth. I’m not stopping until you make me cum.”

Fresh tears sting your eyes. This torment will keep going? You look up at him pleadingly, hoping he’ll have mercy on you. He has to know you’ve never done this before. But he just keeps thrusting ruthlessly into your throat. 

When he pulls back again, you press your lips tightly around his shaft, slowing his motion. This gives you the chance to lap at his tip with your tongue. You taste a salty, sticky fluid, and feel it smear around the inside of your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens, and you whimper around his cock as he continues thrusting, just a little slower so that he can rub your tongue with his leaking tip. 

Your jaw is aching, your throat raw, but you keep your tongue moving, trying your best to please him. It feels like it goes on forever before he finally pulls out most of the way, leaving only the tip inside. Then he shoots his hot, gooey load onto your tongue, filling your mouth. Your first instinct is to spit it out, you’re already gagging after all. But you know that would anger him, so you force it down, letting the thick gobs slide down your throat. 

When done, he finally removes his cock from your mouth, leaving you panting for air, your lips bruised and trembling. You look up to find him grinning down at you. “So?” He asks, his tone mocking. “Ready for me to shove this into that little virgin pussy of yours?”

“No, please! You’ll break me!” you cry, trying to scurry away from him.

He grabs one of your bound arms and jerks you to your feet, not caring how much he hurts you. He pulls you to him, forcing your bare body against his. He’s so very firm, so rock solid. His appearance is so alluring to you, his self assured attitude so attractive, if you had met him under different circumstances, you would have slept with him willingly. 

“I’m going to shatter you,” he says, crimson eyes shimmering, “tear you apart, crush you into dust. But don’t worry, I’ll keep you alive until I’ve had my fill of you.”

You shudder in his arms, your eyes still full of tears. He steps toward his bed, dragging you with him by the arm. He throws you onto it, on your back. With your hands still tied behind you, the position is highly uncomfortable. He pulls off his pants, kicking them aside and standing beside the bed for a moment, giving you a clear view of how the black lines circle his muscular thighs. Once again, they almost distract you from your terror. 

But it returns full force when he climbs onto the bed and shoves your quivering legs apart. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head to the side, feeling your whole body heat up with embarrassment. No man has looked upon you this way before. 

“It’s no fun fucking sandpaper,” he tells you. “So let’s get this pussy wet.”

Your eyes snap open in alarm when you feel his large, warm hands on your spread open inner thighs, rubbing upward. His thumbs reach your soft folds and part your flesh, the cool air of the room hitting your most private place. You hear him chuckle, and you glance at his face. He’s smiling so smugly. “Are you sure you’re a virgin? You’re already dripping.”

You feel shame immediately fall over you. In a panic, you try to rise up. “What? No! I’m not! I-“

Suddenly his thumb rubs over your clit, and you forget how to form words. You inhale a sharp breath, trying vainly to scoot away from his touch. He keeps rubbing, and you can feel your own wetness smearing around. Your body has betrayed you.  

Humiliated, you close your eyes again, wishing you could at least wipe your tears. The motion of his thumb intensifies, his nail scraping over your delicate nub, and your body jerks. You’ve never felt this way before, never felt such electric pleasure. 

You hear his smooth voice. “Already a whore for me before I even make you my woman.”

A pitiful sob escapes you. Reflexively, your legs try to close, but he’s between them, holding them far apart. The shameful pleasure builds and builds, your body shaking, and just when it feels like something is about to break loose, he suddenly stops. 

You lie there panting, not knowing if you’re thankful or disappointed that he moved his hand away.  But then his hands slide under your hips, and pull your lower body into his lap. You can feel the weight of his heavy cock on your pussy, can feel its heat. 

He moves it so that it’s pointing directly at your entrance. You rise up as best you can to look him in the eyes. “Please… don’t!”

But he grins again, enjoying your fear, your desperation. You were foolish to think this monster has any mercy within him. He doesn’t give you a chance to prepare, even to take a deep breath, before he ruthlessly shoves his entire cock inside you. 

You scream, the pain blinding as he tears into you, slamming into your cervix on the first thrust. It feels like he’s ripping you apart. You feel something warm and wet coming out of you, and realize it must be blood. At that moment, you genuinely fear he’s going to kill you. 

He quickly begins moving, thrusting in and out, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise them. You look at his face, at the pleasure evident in his eyes, and it horrifies you. Turning your face to the side, you try to block it all out, his cock invading your body, his hands upon you, his toned, tattooed body hovering over yours. 

All you can do is whimper and cry as he takes you, trying your best to hold back your sobs so that he doesn’t enjoy this even more. Your body feels like it’s on fire, but you’re completely helpless to stop him. 

“Hey,” you hear him say, his fingers squeezing your hip harshly, “don’t fade out. Stay focused. You’re under me right now, my cock is inside you.”

This cruel beast won’t even allow you the luxury of blocking this all out! He’s keeping you in the moment, making sure you’re aware of everything that’s happening. 

One of his hands moves down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit. Your body spasms with pleasure as he rubs circles into it, bringing you back to the edge you were on earlier. 

You shake your head. “No, please… stop!”

He ignores your pleas, rubbing relentlessly, making your breath hitch and your legs tremble. You look down, your eyes drawn to the way his muscles flex and move beneath his skin, the way his strong hands hold you, and you can’t resist any longer. 

The pleasure explodes within you, spreading from your core out to the ends of your limbs, leaving you gasping. Above you, Sukuna laughs. 

“A virgin cumming while being raped? I made an excellent choice tonight!”

You try to ignore his cruel taunts, just feeling the pleasure of your orgasm. It’s the only thing dulling the pain. Because Sukuna keeps fucking you, hard and rough, until your pleasure fades and you finally feel him stiffen inside you. He presses in deep enough to make you see stars, and then you feel his hot cum filling your womb. 

****************

Sukuna eventually pulls out of the maiden, leaving her sprawled out in his bed, too exhausted and sore to even close her legs. She pants, her lovely breasts heaving, as blood and cum leak out of her. She’s crying softly, turning her face away from him. 

She’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on, like a rare jewel. So soft and fragile, it only makes him want to defile her even more, to ruin her even more. 

Fortunately for her, that was the best fuck he’s had in years. The way her pussy clenched his cock when she came, the way her body trembled against him… it was exquisite.  He’ll definitely keep her alive for a while longer. 

[strangerstilinski]

𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers

It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.

And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.

Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-

You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.

“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It's like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.

His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.

“What are you even talking abou-”

“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.

You huff, “Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”

“God, you guys 're hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”

Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and his chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.

“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”

“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I'm not sure any of us were that invested hearing you drone on about the ‘big tip’ some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”

“Steve. C'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.

“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.

“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugs, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet, alright? It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”

“What, and just because you're a jackass, that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.

“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”

“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you. The rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background, the rest mist of your rage yet again blinding you to anything that isn't Steve fucking Harrington. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”

“So what, if I don't care that some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “Sue me. If that makes me an asshole-”

“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, except I'm able to do so without acting like such a fucking-”

“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”

The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? He'd been the highlight of your god-awful day. The rest of it had been a fucking disaster.

You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. Subsequently, you'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks that squelched wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit for the whole mess, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd proceeded to burn yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had little choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.

“Y'know what?” You grumble in defeat, “Fine.”

You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your half-finished beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of your own emotional state.

“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”

“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, as if he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”

There are scattered protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.

“Hey! Wait up.”

You're not sure why, but Steve's voice makes you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around to face him. He calls out to you again as he finally catches up with you. He all but throws himself into your path and at the risk of running straight into him, your steps finally come to a stop.

“C'mon, honey. Wait, wait, wait-”

You blow out a frustrated breath, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.

“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that's begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”

You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back. You nearly lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.

The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. Warmth seeps into your palms from beneath the thin cotton of Steve's tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from back inside the house. Your eyes are level with Steve's chin, your wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You're still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.

“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly — unexpectedly earnest.

It's only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face, smelling of the gum he's always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he's leaning in-

The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can't think, and you're not entirely sure you're even breathing, but Steve's lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You're gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve' arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.

His tongue brushes warmly against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.

Your head is a little fuzzy when you separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you're gasping almost comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve's quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the nape of your neck.

“You kissed me.”

The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.

“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”

His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — Casual and tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he's kissing you just because he can.

“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”

“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.

“Why-”

Kiss.

“Are you-”

Kiss.

“Kissing me?”

Steve's breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D'you want me to stop?”

“No, no, I- Hell no.”

And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.

He looks so pretty like this, you think. The streetlight light at the end of his driveway catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.

You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.

“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to get you to shut up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”

You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Yeah.. Yeah, Maybe we will.”

When his lips descend on your own again, it's ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.

It's like there are hearts in his eyes.

[butmakeitgayblog]

god that gif set goes so crazy every time, no one is doing it like them. Heda wanted her SO. BAD. ‼️

Listen I get it ok. I was there in the camp of losing my fucking mind when this happened. But man I just... it's a shame that we get so lost in the gay sauce over this moment —

— that we really don't give enough credit to the rest of what's going on

Cuz like,,, at no point was Lexa actually afraid of Clarke. She'd just had her storm her ass into her tent in the midst of a hissy fit while holding a gun to a warrior's back, and Lexa's only response was to be offended that her makeup regimen got interrupted

Literally the girl was not fazed beyond just, "... what the fuck 😒?" And you know that because Clarke continued following her around the tent while they argued, HER PISTOL STILL VERY MUCH IN HAND, and the whole time Lexa is just flat out sassing tf out of her.

I just cannot stress enough how not at all intimidated by Clarke Lexa was.

But when Clarke called her out on her facade of having no feelings? When she blatantly called her a liar for pretending that she didn't care about the losses of her loved ones as deeply as she clearly did???

That's when Lexa's demeanor changed.

That's the moment Clarke became a danger.

Not because she ever thought Clarke would physically hurt her, but because she knew in that moment that Clarke actually saw her.

And it terrified the hell out of her.

Because you have this strong, fearless warrior. One who has accepted the reality of her own death since she was a child. One who has done everything she can to push away everyone and anything that makes her feel vulnerable. One who has spent years trying to bury all these feelings that she's convinced herself are a weakness.

And then this smartass, reckless, blonde little 👏menace👏to👏society just takes the very boot that Lexa had given her, and kicks the whole thing down.

And you see that in that moment. Not a fear for her safety or any intimidation of Clarke. You see that brave little toaster trying to keep it together while feeling the entire house of cards come tumbling down.

Because she already cared about Clarke. She admits that only a moment later. Because she is emotionally flailing here.

Desperately clinging to this mask with her normally regal tip of her chin that now only manages to come off shaky and unsure.

Every step she backs up is another piece of that facade falling, but she can't stop it because if she lets Clarke actually touch her, then that facade wouldn't just fall.

It would completely shatter.

And oh, oh this sweet summer child. She tries so valiantly one last time to save herself. Back pressed against the table, and clinging to her belief that to be alone is to be strong. But that snarled "Get. Out." through beared teeth and trembling lips is nothing more than the death rattle of that mantra, because the damage has already been done. Because the second Clarke even begins to include herself in that people that Lexa says she doesn't care about, Lexa immediately has to correct her.

Cuz the jig is up, and she knows it. Clarke has invaded her lands, stomped her way into her personal space, and terrifyingly made a place for herself in Lexa's very fragile heart.

And there was just nowhere left to run.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 35

Part 1 Part 34

The shower Eddie finally takes, after over a week of rotting in Steve’s clothes, should be a relief. His head is no longer itchy. He washes the ash out of his eyes, and Steve’s blood out from beneath his nails. Replaces grime with the smell of the clinical nothingness that is the toiletries the hospital provided.

His breath no longer feels like it’s wilting the air around him after he brushes his teeth. The scrubs he changes into are stiff, but clean and dry.

It should be a relief. But, Steve is out of his sight, quiet and small in his hospital bed.

Wayne will keep him safe, he knows. But who will hold his hand if he wakes up again, delirious? Who will sooth him back to sleep?

He hurries the whole process, bangs plastered to his forehead, hair dripping down the back of his borrowed scrub top.

When he rushes out of the bathroom and into Steve’s hospital room, Wayne’s closer to Steve’s bed then he was when he left him, hand clasping Steve’s own, and staring down at him with a look on his face that Eddie’s only ever seen directed at him before. 

It’s just like when Eddie’d kicked the hole in the plaster of the trailer. Or when Wayne had been called in by Hopper after one infraction or another. Or when he comes home after a session of Hellfire, and regales his uncle with the beat-by-beat replay of the action. 

Like fondness and exasperation are warring for space in the purse of his mouth.

“What happened?” Eddie asks. The linolium is cold on his bare feet as he walks over to retake his own seat at Wayne’s side. 

“Your boy woke up just long enough to ask how you were and then pass back out,” he says, glancing at Eddie, eyes twinkling.

“Did he seem–” Eddie starts, looking down at Steve’s relaxed face. “Is he okay?”

The doctors won’t tell them anything. They’re not his emergency contacts, not family. No one seems to care that no one’s been able to contact the Harrington’s for the two days Steve’s been rotting away in the hospital, alone, save for them. Eddie’s mind drifts back to the way Steve had hid so instinctually in his closet, like he needed a safe place in what should have already been safe, and wants to wring their skinny necks. 

Wayne gently maneuvers his hand out from beneath Steve’s own. Steve’s fingers curl into a loose fist, grasping at air, like he’s seeking the warmth of Wayne’s skin even in his sleep. Wayne sits back in his seat, crossing his ankles as he settles with a sigh.

“He’ll be just fine,” Wayne says, turning in his chair to try to catch Eddie’s eyes. “That boy cares about you.”

He says it like it’s a revelation, but Eddie’s not surprised. He can feel it in the tug at his sternum. The way Steve’s eyes had looked through Eddie’s tears as he’d pressed his forehead to his. Like recognizes like.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “He does.”

The Eddie of two weeks ago would’ve been standing on a table top about it. Saying jocks are a monolith, and Steve is the most jock of them all. He would’ve rioted about King Steve Harrington and his corrupt court of lackeys trying to buy his way into Eddie’s good books. For drugs. Or clout. Or something fucking stupid. Eddie would’ve raged against the machine, a riot in the making. 

But that’s not his Steve. Maybe it was never Steve at all. Things look different from up close, and their lunch tables were always so far away. 

Will Steve sit with him at lunch? He doesn’t look much like Steve the Hair Harrington anymore. His hairs been shaved down to the quick. They’d had to, just to get to the wound trailing up Steve’s forehead and into his hair. He can’t imagine this Steve, hurt and small, sitting with the jocks, throwing fries at Tommy Hagan. 

The thought of school after all of this is like hives crawling up his spine. They’d died, risen back up again to end up back at fucking high school. 

“I want to go home,” Eddie says. But he means his trailer a week and a half ago, before he was split into thirds. Before Steve Harrington and Will Byers. Before.

“You can,” Wayne says, scooting over in his chair so he can wrap his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, dragging him uncomfortably over the arm rest for a pseudo hug.

Eddie looks down at Steve’s sleeping face, wonders when home stopped just being a trailer and Uncle Wayne. Things change so fast when you’re running.

It’s a long night.

Eddie sleeps uncomfortably, propped up in his chair. Wayne drapes a scratchy blanket over him on his way out the door, off to work. 

His dreams are full of shadows spilling out of the ground. Chasing him, and he’s always running but never getting anywhere. Of Steve’s back and Steve’s blood and Steve’s vacant eyes. 

He wakes up to fingers combing through his hair, head pillowed on Steve’s hospital bed, blanket slipped off and onto the floor. It’s dark. One of the nurses must have turned off the lights.

The first day Eddie’d refused to leave, they’d given him his own oxygen mask and deluge of tests, propped up in his seat with Will similarly chained to his side. The second day, they’d tried to get him to go home, get out of the way. 

They’d stopped trying to kick him out the day before. 

The fingers move through his hair, pulling at the knots Eddie hadn’t bothered to comb out. Uncle Wayne must be back from his shift. Or maybe, it’s Mama Byers again, checking up on him again, as if she owes him anything at all.

“Hey.”

His heart ba-thump, ba-thump, tugs. He turns his head, smooshing it into the rough sheets to look up at the head of the bed. Steve’s eyes are open. He smiles hazily down at Eddie, uncoordinatedly petting at his head.

Eddie’s lungs heave, trying to vacate his body all together with the pressure of their seizing. He sobs, raising his hand to trail up across Steve’s cheek, impossibly soft after everything. “You’re such a fucking prick,” he says, heat lost in the way he’s blubbering into the sheets.

Steve smiles, like he’s never seen anything as great as Eddie Munson making a mess of himself at his bedside. It’s probably the morphine. “I know.”

“I dared you to stay alive,” Eddie says. “And then you just–”

He’s choking, too much to finish, like Steve’s not breathing in front of him again, or bleeding out in front of him. Steve’s always dying, and Eddie’s always crying about it. 

“I did,” Steve says, still petting his head. It hurts a little. Eddie’s hair’s a mess of tangled curls atop his head. He never wants Steve to stop touching him. “I said I’d come home.”

Eddie cries. He’s not a cryer, but something’s flipped in him, making him weepy. Like the expectation of grief unrealized keeps bubbling up his throat and bleeding out his eyes. Steve Harrington, his own living ghost, smiles down at him. 

“I’m so tired,” Eddie says. It’s a whine, the consonants drawn out and wet at the edges. 

Steve’s still smiling, dopey and tired and perfect. He pats the spot next to him. “Come here.”

It’s a bad idea. Steve’s hurt. But Eddie’s so weak. The thing in his ribs tugs. Eddie follows it.

He crawls under Steve’s shitty hospital bedding, tucking his wet face into Steve’s neck, arm slung carefully over his chest. “You’ll still be alive when I wake up?” Eddie asks, trying to make it a joke. As if Steve’s lifeless eyes aren’t still looking at him from dreamland.

“Promise,” Steve says.

It feels like Steve’s lips on his forehead, quick and fleeting. In the wee hours of the morning, Eddie and Steve fall asleep.

Part 36

[hailsatanacab]

I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year. 

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..." 

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he... 

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb. 

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

[futureplayboibunnie]

i rewatched the godfather and listened to the entirety of honeymoon by lana del rey so here’s another mafia Miguel O’Hara drabble

-

Objectively, there were so many things wrong in the lifestyle that was gifted to you, but you didn’t feel any kind of way about it. You weren’t the type to fill the silence with empty words.

In this line of business, talking could get you killed.

Your husband wasn’t a good man and he often treated you well. He was the most powerful out of all the 5 families that ruled the underworld and he so happened to have a liking to you. You did love him once, that space where your love for him filled is now blank, a white space etched with a question mark. You didn’t know how to feel about all of it since you were his best kept secret, his secret weapon.

He used you to gain intel on his enemies, being a woman was one thing but being as cunning as you was another. You’d go undercover for him, he’d create an alias, a new passport, a new birth cerificate, a new drivers liscense. Your husband was nothing but thorough. And he needed to be thorough when the O’Hara brothers showed up out of nowhere.

The O'Hara brothers were very successful hitmen, but their business ventures were quiet, they moved in brooding silence in an effort to not draw public attention. Gabriel was more about the tech and was often out of town. Miguel, on the other hand, was dark, moody, he was the brawn, the muscle, the one that had to make all the hard choices all his life.

He couldn’t make heads or tales of who they were and how they so quickly got accepted into all of this and how the 5 families didn’t notice them on their radar. You had never seen your husband this anxious when it came to them, so he needed you to scope.

You were his crown jewel, he knew you could handle yourself. So he created a new alias: you were his new suit tailor. It was supposed to be a two month operation but Miguel took longer than expected to try and get close to you. Probably because you forgot to take off your wedding ring and now you had to make that part of your story. A stupid mistake on your half and now you’re reaping the consequences.

But here you were now.

Waiting for him at dinner at the most regal restraunt you have ever been in, you felt a little intimidated that there were a few security gaurds looming over you slightly as you sat and waited. Jesus, they cleared the whole floor out just for the two of you.

This is the type of intel your husband wanted. Intimate.

-

Miguel saw you through the window before he walked in, there you were sitting so prettily, waiting for him. Pretty silk dress, showing off your legs with those heels that he was surprised you could even walk in.

You were married. He noticed the massive rock on your finger while you pressed down on the lapels of his suit when you first started

Miguel knew you were married and it took a lot of time to prented he cared about it, but he didn’t. Not one bit. He always wanted what he couldn’t have.

He watched as your eyes shot up to see his figure walking towards you, a twinge of nervousness struck at your chest and your fingers started twitching as you felt his gaze simmer into yours. He was wearing the all black suit you made him last week. The sight made your legs buckle but you immediately dismissed the action.

“Salir.” (Leave) Miguel waved his hand and dismissed the guards so that you could both be alone together, the thing he’s wanted to do since he first saw you but you were so…unreadable. So polite and nonchalant, it was galling.

He waited long enough for you, now he wanted to see what your mind held.

“I apologize for being late. Business as usual.” He said coolly as he pulled out his chair to sit down.

Oh? Business?

“Such as? Nothing too serious I hope.” Your replied simply, expertly not giving away that you were digging.

Miguel contemplated your purpose, you were sat there so graceful and poised, so…fucking polite. He almost hated it. “An arms deal, a few of my guns went missing.” He stated huskily, trying to get past this conversation.

You let out an appreciative hum, letting a beat of silence cover you as you retained that knowledge “My husband doesn’t like me playing with guns, we argue about it.” You find yourself explaining your real life issues before your brain could even check it. “I told him men have endless distractions…while we ladies only have shopping and tailoring.” You chuckly dryly, giving him a shy crooked half smile, playing into whatever role of femininity you needed: this time, traditionalist. You wanted to roll your eyes back into your skull. “At least it keeps me at home.”

Miguel couldn’t help but squint his eyes and keep himself locked on you. He thought you were so sweet…and definitely unhappy at home with your husband. He sat quietly for a moment, the tension already laying thick into the atmosphere.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called today.”

“Oh…my husband’s away on a trip. So his friends came over to keep me company. More like keep an eye on me. Your call was the perfect excuse to leave.” You say whistfully, not giving too much away.

Fuck, that was just your knack. You never gave anything away, you were so….puzzling. Miguel traced his fingers over his lips as his stared at you.

Hm.

“Is that right?” He muttered but it definitely wasn’t a question.

“Mhm. It’s a beautiful night tonight, I didn’t want to be surrounded by men who don’t care but a glass of wine would be nice right about now.”

-

You and Miguel ate and talked into the night, the soft piano playing in the background only added to the tension Miguel could barely touch his food, all he could do was stare at you across the candlelit table, urging you, contemplating you. He hadn’t wanted a woman in so long, it was like you were placed in front of him by God himself.

You sipped at your wine as a slightly concerned and defeat look spread across your face. You told him that your husband is a broker with a fraying temper and you were surprised he believed you.

“He asked me about kids. A daughter. He’d always wanted a daughter.” Although you were playing into your character, you couldn’t stop yourself from telling him the issues that were plaguing you in your real life. You disguised it well but it just fell so naturally.

Miguel frowned when he heard the mention of children.

“And?” He tilted his head urging you to continue as he took a sip of his whiskey.

“Well,” You sighed. “With all due respect, she’d be his daughter. And that affords her a certain amount of protection I don’t enjoy.” You pursed your lips as the words strained heavily, seriousness etching at your features. “He’d never hurt a hair on her head. I can’t say the same thing for myself. I won’t leave her alone in the world with him.”

Now this really was getting intimate.

Miguel felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him, he really didn’t like the way you were describing the way he acts and talks to you. He would beat him bloody for the way he treats you. He shook the thought out of his head, he needed to get a grip.

“In my work, moral codes rarely exist but I have one. I don’t hurt women or children, they are absolutely off limits and my men know this and it’s one or the only rules I expect to be firmly stood by.” He said calmly, trying to calm his temper at what you just told him.

Now this is intel. The mental list was getting bigger and bigger.

You smiled shyly as you placed your elbows on the table, looking as whistful as ever. “I sometimes think I’d rather do things on my own. The things I like don’t interest him.” You hated the fact you were telling the truth.

Miguel watched you, his eyes scorching and heated yet cold and steely. A paradox of a man as he listened intently, his ears pricked up.

“What do you like?” His voice was as rich as blue velvet.

Your eyes shot up and blinked for a moment, stilling as you finally registered the words, Miguel felt you swallow thickly. “I like the movies.” You gave him a crooked smile. “He doesn’t go with me so I go by myself. He and his friends only talk business.” You chuckled lightly.

“I don’t like movies either.” Miguel replied gruffly as he downed the rest of his drink. The look on your face spread into contempt, he caught a glimpse of you under all that politeness. And then you snapped it back on like second instinct as you smiled.

“Mr O’Hara you’re too busy to go to the movies. Even this dinner took you about 3 months to schedule. Movies are for people who have far too much time on their hands.” You teased.

Damn.

Miguel just kept staring.

“No its not that….It’s too dark. I’m not a fan of too much darkness.”

Oh?

He doesn’t like the dark?

Your lips parted as a palpable silence settled between you, Miguel was eager to dismiss the situation.

“Would you like another drink?” He grabbed the wine bottle to top you up.

“To keep you company. Alcohol…” You tisked. “Such trivial things…” You muttered quitely.

“If you play close attention to it enough, nothing is too trivial.” Miguel was laser focused on you and all you could do was give him a blank and slightly rattled look.

It was making you feel….things. You can’t feel it, you’re not allowed to feel it.

Miguel watched you as you raised the glass to your lips and took a sip, his eyes travlled to the lipstick stain on the rim as you set it down.

Fuck. Blushed red, a little glossy.

You rotated your head around to still be surprised that no one was actually here.

“Cleared out huh?” You questioned knowingly.

“I value my privacy. And it’s a nice place to talk so no one disturbs us.” He replied back as sauve as ever and you hated the feeling swinging in your chest as they fell from his lips.

The gaze you shared felt like it could last a lifetime, you were both practically eyefucking each other, neither of you blinked until he spoke.

“Your husband works a great deal, eh?” Now he was the one that was prying.

“At what I have no idea. He won’t tell me. I’ve always said that having a man is fine as long as he’s far away from home, right?” You raised an eyebrow, a cunning look filled with hubris and quiet flirtation.

It was like you weren’t even trying to be this sensual.

Miguel’s lips parted as his mouth tugged upwards a little. “Your husband is a broker, yeah?” He wanted to know more about you, about your life.

“If you wanted to know more about him, I’ll bring him along next time. You men always have something to say to each other.”

Miguel hated the idea. Absolutely not. He stayed quiet

“But with women you just make small talk.” You breathed and it halted him in his tracks, the small smirk, the look in your eyes- he wanted what he couldn’t have.

The silences that surrounded you was beating with tension that you thought you once forgot.

You swallowed.

“Small talk like this to me….is a rare treat.”

-

The night went on. Talking. Slight flirting. An ache started to form between your legs and your cunning was also turning into a mix of that and attraction. Your fingers grazed your arm slowly, your lips were getting wettet and your eyelashes seemed to flutter as you watched Miguel talk.

“The men I work with are high ranking officials and lowlives. But they all have the same look in their eyes.”

Yes. This is exactly what you needed to hear.

“And what is that?” You reply simply.

“Fear.”

“Of course.”

“But you’re different, aren’t you? You’re not afraid.” Miguel couldn’t help but comment on you, in this business a woman as polite as you should be on the chopping block but no, there was something about you.

“How about you?” You shot back and as always you disarmed him immediately but he didn’t like to give anyone that sort of power.

No one can catch him off guard.

“You’re smart but not smart enough to know how to catch me out.” Miguel smiled wickedly as he reached for his pack of smokes and pulled out a tab.

Your lips parted as you scanned his face up and down as he put it inbetween his lips. He noticed your mindless yet intent gawk and raised his eyebrows, he took another one out and extended his arm out as his fingers brushed your skin. You stilled and blinked up at him dumbly as his thumb brushed your lips and opened your mouth wider for him to put the cigarette.

His touch was like liquid fire.

You finally caught it and then he took his lighter and lit his and yours up, watching the way your lipstick stained the butt. When you fingers held it, he caught a full view of your wedding ring, it was massive diamond rock held together by golden pearls. His face grew embittered by the sight, his frustration fanned into anger and now his sentiments remained the same.

He always wanted what he couldn’t have.

[yesihaveaobsession]

Deer Demon and The Hunter

Alastor x female reader x Dean Winchester (Sam and others mentioned)

Summary: Alastor flirts with you well by being himself and Dean isn't having it.

A/N- I'll do another part if y'all want and if this does well. Let me know Dean and Alastor are both mu husbands so I would LOVE to write more of the two of them together.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the dilapidated streets of Pentagram City, you followed alongside Dean, with Sam shortly behind. Surprisingly, there was a lot of crime in this hell. It was a different hell that none of you had ever come across before, nor had the Trickster even talked about it as part of his fantasies. The relationship between you and Dean was complicated; you both felt strongly for each other, but due to the life that both of you put your heart and soul into, it just would never work.

After trying to avoid all the killings and other crimes on the streets of the new Hell, you came across a very large hotel. It was so big that you could probably see it from miles away. In fact, almost like a beacon of twisted hope amidst the chaos. Deciding that it was late and you needed to find some vacancy, the three of you walked into the doors of the Hazbin Hotel. As you stepped in, you didn't notice Dean was standing much closer to you than before, as you all took in the very... red... scenery. Putting down your duffel bags, which you had no idea how they got there with you, but they did.

You couldn't help but feel a shiver of apprehension run down your spine. Suddenly, in the shadows, a figure stood. He was much taller than both brothers, surprisingly, because in your world, no one was taller than the two brothers. Standing proud in the center of all the red chaos stood Alastor, formerly known as The Radio Demon.

"Ah, a trio of hunters coming into our LOVELY humbled establishment, which we call a hotel," Alastor said with animated hand gestures as he apporched you all. you noticed the deer features instantly, as did the two brothers. You also noticed the Joker Ish smile that graced his face. In fact, it never seemed to fall. His claws rested on what seemed like a cane, which had a microphone and an eyeball on it.

Dean, the protective one out of the group, shot him a distrustful glare, and he stepped closer to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you back gently to shield you from this thing. He knew you could handle your own, that's how you two met, but he couldn't shake the fact that if anything were to happen to you, he would never forgive himself for it. "We're just passing through," he grumbled, his voice dripping with skepticism. Throughout this interaction, you realized that the deer demon's red eyes were on you the whole time, not even paying attention to Dean's glares. Your heart sank, and you got a bad feeling. Alastor pushed passed Dean and over to you.

"Ah, but a lady such as yourself deserves a warm welcome," he crooned, offering you, his arm. "Allow me to show you around, my dear." You hesitated for a minute, holding out your hand towards the tall man, although accepting his gesture. He then kissed the back of your hand, making you blush. Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. As Alastor led you through the corridors of the hotel, his charm and wit were impossible to resist. He regaled you with stories of the underworld, his words weaving a seductive spell around you.

Dean's jealousy simmered beneath the surface, his jaw clenched as he watched Alastor's blatant flirtation with growing irritation. Sam attempted to diffuse the tension, but it was too late—the hunter and the Radio Demon were on a collision course. Dean saw Alastor place his claw on your lower back, which sent him over the edge. The hunter confronted the Radio Demon, his lips snarled, and Alastor seemed to enjoy it. "Back off, Radio Freak," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "She's not interested in your games."

Hoping Alastor would take the hint, he didn't. His smile only grew bigger, a hint of challenge in his eyes as his neck twisted, then his body faced Dean head-on. "Ah, seems you're the one playing the game," Alastor said, and you winced, as did Sam. You both knew that this wasn't going to end well. The tension between the two men crackled in the air, the atmosphere charged with primal energy as they squared off. It was clear that neither would back down, their rivalry fueled by pride and desire. Dean's nostrils flared, and Alastor just continued to smile down at him.

You sadly found yourself in the middle of the two tall men. After the Princess of Hell broke the two apart, Dean didn't think twice and pulled you away to calm down. Dean grumbled something under his breath as he rummaged through his duffle bag.

"Dean?" You began but soon were stopped.

"That demon, or whatever the hell he is... he's getting under both of our skins."

"Well, I—" You shut up after the glare Dean had sent you. There was a knock on the door.

"It's fine, Dean, he's just being sweet," you shrugged and opened your hotel room door. The Radio Demon stood there proudly.

"Evening, my dear," he said, looking over at Dean who was fuming, then back at you. "I was hoping you'd join me for some tea."

[whenmemorydies]

Breakdown of a racist microaggression in Ice Chips 3x08

This title is misleading because any scene with Donna in it is likely going to be one gigantic macroaggression of some sort lol but I wanted to talk about this scene in Ice Chips and how subtly but impactfully it was played by all the actors in it:

Recall the beginning of 3x08 Ice Chips. Donna has just done her narcissistic thing in the parking lot of the hospital, ignoring-a-very-pregnant-and-about-to-give-birth Natalie's pleas to "shut the fuck up" and we are now in the hospital room with the two of them.

Donna is continuing to do her narcissistic thing and has begun to regale everyone in the room (which at this point is Natalie and a nurse) with stories about being a mother, asserting herself as an expert on the journey her daughter is about to embark on.

She tells Natalie and the nurse (who happens to be Black) about how badly she wanted to be a mother. She said its because:

I wanted someone to love me the way I had seen.

So yes, alarm bells. Wanting a baby so you can feel loved? Probably not the best reason to bring a whole other person into the world.

Note: Mikey entered the world with so much of Donna's expectations and trauma waiting to receive him like his first swaddle. No wonder he knew from a young age that pursuing a singular passion of his own was not going to happen for him because he had people to look after (recall his discussion with Tina in 3x06 Napkins). Parentified, eldest siblings unite /sob.

But back to Donna, Natalie, the nurse and the hospital room.

Donna then hits us with this curveball - her feelings about the exact parent/child relationships she had seen:

You know, all those smug mothers down at the Jewel, blocking the aisle with their strollers.

Yikes.

Donna is jealous of those mothers. She wants to be one of them. She wants to block the aisle at the Jewel (which a quick google tells me is probably short for Jewel-Osco - a chain of grocery stores in Chicago). She's so resentful of mothers with children, that she calls them "smug" for no other reason than they're probably not yelling at their kids in public (lol, also more yikes). She wants to be smug too. It's almost like Donna doesn't want a child, but what she thinks a child will give her: love she clearly hasn't experienced either as a child herself or as an adult . And also the power to be smug and take her place at the Jewel. Its almost like, to Donna, a child is an object, a means to an end.

But we're not done.

Then Donna says:

Do you know what Gina said to me? Gina fucking said to me - she looked down at my stomach - she says to me,

'You know, Donna, there are lots of good Chinese babies, honey.'

And then Donna turns to the only racialised person in the room, the Black nurse and says:

I mean, can you imagine?

And to her credit, that nurse did not kiss her teeth (she has so much more patience and professionalism than me lmao) but I felt her reaction to my CORE:

The biting of tongue, the looking up for divine intervention to get the person speaking to shut the fuck up, the looking down and pursing of lips when you realise no such help is coming, lmao.

I felt that reaction because I have been in this situation so many times as a racialised person (specifically as a non-Black POC). What is the situation exactly? The situation is a white person making a racist comment or "joke" in front of BIPOC folks in order to feel validated in their racism. The situation is getting BIPOC folks to collude/cosign in racism by doing it in front of them and trying to get them in on the "joke" too. This nurse was not having any of it.

For folks who are unsure about what was racist about Donna's comment: the "Chinese babies" Donna is likely referring to are the wave of Asian-American adoptions (where largely white Americans adopted children from China, South Korea, Vietnam, Cambodia and other East Asian countries) that began during the Cold War. The racism is the exporting of Donna's previously discussed objectification of a child, to the East. If she can't make a baby to fill the emotional vortex of her heart, Donna can buy adopt a "Chinese" one (the use of "Chinese" to refer to a myriad of nations and people is also racist). To be clear: white people treating BIPOC folks as objects to fill their needs and not as humans deserving of dignity and respect, is racist.

And yes, this is Donna recounting what someone named Gina has said to her. Its not technically what Donna has said so she's innocent right? Wrong. Donna is recounting a racist incident in front of a BIPOC person whom she has no relationship with. She's not condemning the racism of her friend so for all we know, she may have the same views as Gina - that Asian babies are fine to be adopted if you're a white woman who's feeling very lonely and just wants a baby really badly. This is deeply uncomfortable. My skin was crawling during this scene.

Natalie, observant woman that she is, clocks the nurse's discomfort right away:

And then Donna says:

The joke was on her. God rest her soul. I was two months gone with Michael at the time.

So we know Donna is not condemning Gina for her racism. She's condemning Gina for assuming Donna couldn't get pregnant on her own. Great. So now we and the nurse have a better sense of Donna's position here (Natalie being Donna's daughter surely already knows her mother's position).

Understandably, the nurse does not take Donna's bait and does not affirm her statements. So Donna doubles down in her condemnation of Gina, trying to get the nurse to affirm her any way, any how.

Natalie can see where this may end up going (when JLC does that upside-down-smile-grimace, even I know this is about to get messy lmao) so, being the well-practised parentified daughter that she is, she intervenes:

Then Donna reassures Natalie and the nurse that she did call Pete and she did leave a message and that everything is good. Still Donna needs affirmation from the nurse (can we talk about white folks needing BIPOC folks, in particular Black women, to affirm and hold their feelings for them? Can we talk about the demands of emotional labour?) so she tries another tactic:

The nurse can see right through Donna's posturing:

But she remains respectful and professional, politely responding: Wow.

(which wasn't as sarcastic in the scene as it might read here lol)

Natalie, like the nurse, can also see that her mother is, in fact, on one:

When the nurse does not give Donna anything more than "wow", she gets visibly pissed off. She pulls a face like "That's it?! Wow? Don't you know how hard it is to walk while being in labour?!" JLC goes FULL upside-down-smile-grimace:

But before Donna can embarrass herself further, she gets interrupted.

By a visibly Asian nurse:

And proceeds to shut the fuck up:

The way I CACKLED at the end of this scene lol.

Anyway, I was rewatching this episode for another meta but as is often the case with this show, something else revealed itself in the rewatch, so here we are.

This scene in Ice Chips is literally only one minute long. But the subtleties of facial expression, the looks thrown, the silences, the script choices were *chef's kiss* for so accurately depicting a racist microaggression and the inherent narcissism of racism itself - above and beyond any other mental health diagnoses that Donna might have. This scene was a perfect example of someone having mental health issues and also doing tone-deaf and racist shit, and how blurry those things may appear when you watch them in action.

As humans, we can have multiple things be true of ourselves at the same time. Donna can be mentally unwell and can say and do racist things. Natalie can love Sydney - an unambigiously Black woman - like a sister and also love her unambiguously offensive (lol) mother Donna. Carmy can love his largely BIPOC staff but then treat them like cogs in a machine at work.

I'm not saying that humans contain multitudes, the end. If some of those multitudes are harmful to BIPOC folks or other groups that face systemic discrimination then it is imperative that we try to change the behaviours we have that are harmful. Donna has work to do, so does Carmy and so does Nat. But I'm also saying this shit is messy and its complex. I just thought I'd point out that 3x08 Ice Chips did a great job of showcasing a bit of that mess and a bit of that complexity.

[hillbillyoracle]

How to Create Downtime Menus

As a lot of my posts are, this one was inspired by a conversation with my partner. She seemed to think some of my ideas were helpful so I thought I'd write them up and share them here.

I use a combination of these ideas to do two things - redirect myself when I get stuck doomscrolling/freezing/obsessing and redirect myself when I'm stuck on the "must be good, must be productive" hamster wheel and can't seem to stop doing chores until I'm fucking exhausted or have pushed/hurt myself. Knowing you need to stop is one thing - knowing what to do instead is another.

Not all of these will work for every person at every time. Pick one or two that seem interesting and give them a whirl.

Habit of the Month

This is a small habit I can do in about 5-10 minutes a day. These are sometimes habits that I want to audition for my lineup or just want to focus on as a way of rebooting a given area of my life. Physical habits have been things like stretching, a walk, putting on moisturizer, drinking water, making tea, etc. Emotional habits have been things like stream of consciousness journaling, bullet journaling, recording myself venting, etc. Spiritual habits have been things like meditating, altar work, reading sutras, tarot readings, etc.

If I'm stuck in a loop and I haven't done that task yet, it serves as an easy win that feels moderately meaningful to accomplish. This is easier to do than longer or less interesting tasks.

Side Quests

These are little challenges I'd like to accomplish that are 100% fun and completely optional. They are specific and can me completed within a given time frame - usually a month. They usually aren't the most meaningful to keep them more fun and so I'm not letting myself down if I don't opt to complete it.

They've been things like:

The Minor Expert Challenge - read three books in one subject

The Kanopy Critic Challenge - use up all of my Kanopy credits that month

The Regal Freegal Challenge - download all the albums/songs I can on Freegal that month

The Monthly Playlist Challenge - create a playlist of the month where each song represents something about each day of that month; like a playlist diary

The Reverse Tarot Draw Challenge - pick/list a tarot card you best think represents each day of a given month or other time period; like a tarot card diary

The 100 Words Challenge - learn 100 words in a foreign language

As you can see, I prefer things that are pretty low energy friendly so I can work on them on days I'm super tired. Just little chronic illness things.

Alphabet Lists

I use these for my cleaning routines actually but I also have been trying them with my downtime. The way it works is you list out the alphabet and choose one self care or hobby task you'd like to do for each. They don't have to start with the same letter, it just serves as an easy way to limit how many you pick and keep track of what you've done. It's satisfying to cross off the whole list.

Tasks I put on these are things like

A - paint my nails

B - crochet a charity hat

C - write 5 letters for Letters Against Isolation

D - send a letter to a friend

E - play a solo rpg

F - play a solo board game

G - complete a puzzle

etc

They're fun tasks I'm not currently doing as often as I'd like but chill enough that it doesn't matter when precisely I do them more often. I try to pick tasks that are roughly 30 minutes to an hour long though some definitely take longer. I like to complete these roughly monthly but I try to complete a whole list before I start it again. Anything I just did not feel like doing and kept skipping gets scratched out and I rewrite a new list with new item to replace those. And I start again.

Whenever I'm like ugh I don't know what to do with myself, I try to pick at least one thing on the list and give it a try for 5 minutes. If I don't like it after that I can just put it away and pick something else.

10x10

10x10 lists are a different take on a similar idea. It's a list of 10 things you'd like to do at least 10 times in a given time period. Mine tend to be on the seasonal or annual timescale but maybe you're intense and prefer a monthly one. If I don't complete them in a given time period, I just continue with it until I'm done. Better to complete it on an altered timeline than not at all.

For me these tend to be slightly bigger tasks that take a little more planning or energy. I'm not totally sure why I use them this way since you could definitely use them for smaller tasks but that's just the space they occupy for me.

So examples of what would be on my list would be things like:

Grab a hot chocolate from the coffee shop (x10)

Complete a PokemonGo event (x10)

Have a spa night and watch a movie (x10)

Do something extra nice for my partner (x10)

Try a new game (x10)

Find a geocache (x10)

etc

Filing up a little 10x10 grid is pretty satisfying. Much more so than anxietying myself into my bed for the equivalent amount of time.

Seasonal Bucket Lists

I really enjoy making these though I really struggle with the current season (Spring) given my allergies. There's this idea my partner has told me about in DBT where you try to recall positive moments to help "build a life worth living". I think seasonal bucket lists are really good at helping with this for me. I look back on the seasons I made these lists way more fondly than the ones I didn't.

They generally center on seasonal activities I don't want to miss out on. So for summer that's stuff like going for a night swim/skinny dip, getting 5-10 good cloud photos, playing a yard game (like cornhole), seeing a street concert, etc. I also try to take pictures of those (if they don't already involve them) so I can reflect on them later and enjoy the residual happiness.

Conclusion

The point of these isn't to overwhelm you with options. It's just to have enough ideas prepped that you can find something no matter your energy level or time you're working with.

Remember - rest and enjoying yourself is necessary for human health. Folks how get good rest and experience flow states more regularly tend to heal better. People who spend time on what they enjoy are often more enjoyable to be around.

It's never a waste of time to make yourself happy.

[auspicioustidings]

The Wild Prince

Blue Blood Part 1

Summary: You are the Duchess of a small Kingdom and your father trades you away for military aid.

@chai-isms made the mistake of saying they liked a royalty AU and this... sort of didn't turn out anything like I had actually planned 😂 So sort of royalty AU ish? Maybe? IDK it's basically just shameless smut.

Word Count: 2.6k

CW: Mention of abuse, smut

Part 2

At least they hadn't put you in a dungeon you had thought at first, but after a month this room was driving you mad. The servant that delivered you food would not talk with you, would not answer any of your questions about what was going to happen to you.

The war had been raging for two years, but it had been a far away thing at the start. It was something so totally removed from your life in your father's castle that you weren't even fully aware that your side had been losing. It was only when he had returned six months ago and the way he looked at you had changed that alarm bells sounded in the back of your mind. While you may have not had a mother to tell you of such things, you knew enough from the gossiping of the servants when they thought you were not listening that you were of age to marry and as you were on only child, your father should try and make a match.

It made you bristle a little to think of. You managed the household well, was it so important that it must have a man at the head when he was gone? 

And then the war had come to linger in your home, blanketing your days with the unease of something being kept from you. When your father had them pack you up into a carriage you raged at him, only earning a backhand straight across your cheek that left an angry mark, a thin line in the middle of the bruise from his ring having split the flesh. He had growled that this marriage was how you could finally be good for something, informing you then that he had remarried and his new wife was expecting a child. It had put you in a state of numb shock that lasted for the whole week of travel.

You had tried your whole life to be worthy of your family name, to be a good daughter. It had been for nothing. Your father was sending you off as some sort of bargaining chip to give him an edge in this war and there was not one thing that you could do about it. 

Now you could only pass your days gazing out of the window and wondering where on earth you were. If only you hadn't been in such a daze, had actually taken some study of your surroundings when you had arrived. You had been taken to the room in this tower immediately on your arrival, hardly able to discern what was happening through your hazy misery. There had been people around you knew, you remembered somewhat foggily a thumb dragged across the fading mark on your cheek. A low growl, a bitten off curse. 

As the night fell you sighed at the sound of the bath being drawn for you in the other room. This was the routine, every second night a bath was drawn for you, candle light dancing across the water when you sunk down into that wet heat. The servant would be gone and you would bathe alone. After a lifetime of having maids scrub at you it was strange at first, but peaceful in a way. 

Tonight was much the same, your muscles relaxing as you let your head roll back and closed your eyes. The sound of someone entering startled you, opening your eyes slowly to look over. You had been prepared to see the meek servant, not a young man dressed regally who did not seem the least bit concerned that he had walked in on you in such a vulnerable and improper state. 

You didn't yelp, the noise caught in your throat. Instead you curled in on yourself, trying to hide any view of the delicacies of your body from his gaze. He walked closer, kneeling by the bath so he was so close that you could smell the orange oil from his fingers. 

"Do you know who I am?" he asked with a gallant smile. It was as if he was some potential suitor at a revelry instead of a stranger in your bathing chambers.

You shook your head, feeling like the water had turned to freezing and locked up all of your muscles. He was handsome in a way that bordered on overwhelming, the brown of his skin and eyes catching the light from the candles to make him almost seem holy in the way he glowed. 

"My name is Kyle Garrick" he said and you felt the panic you had been holding down burst out of you.

Kyle Garrick, the 3rd Prince of the largest Kingdom on the continent, the one that bordered your tiny Kingdom to the East. People called him the Wild Prince, the one who should never have been legitimised. Prince Garrick was not the Queen's son, his mother was a Princess of a conquered kingdom who the King had grown fond of, his favourite concubine. They said that the war hero and King's right hand, Duke John Price, had trained the Wild Price himself. The Duke had won countless battles that changed the fortunes of the Kingdom with Prince Garrick by his side. They said the Duke's men were all monsters of some sort or other. The Wild Prince. The Ghost. The Blood Druid. The men were practically fairy stories to someone like you, not living and breathing people that you might one day meet. 

"Y-your royal highness! Please forgive my rudeness" you cried, head snapping down in supplication. You were a nobody to a Prince, some minor Duchess in a tiny bordering Kingdom. To be naked in front of him was wrong on so many levels. 

He laughed and the warmth of it sent shivers down your spine and tears to your eyes. Your eyes were fixed on the water as his fingers started to dip into it, moving back and forth and coming dangerously close to your legs still pinned to your chest.

"Look at me Duchess" he said and you found yourself giving a quick shake of your head. How could you look at him? You were shaking, naked, completely unworthy to be in his presence. 

"I said look at me" he ordered, your chin roughly pulled up with the hand not playing with the water near your legs. Gone was the gallant smile, his eyes now dancing with the amusement of a predator playing with their prey, your own eyes widening when you felt the brush of his fingers on your bare shin. The hand on your chin moved your head to the side.

"Good, your cheek has healed up. Couldn't have you getting married with a marked up face now could we?"

You didn't know what he wanted you to say. You were desperate to be anywhere but here, his presence was oppressive, bearing down on you and making your insides feel like they were fizzing. You had never felt so vulnerable. He didn't seem to mind your silence, only smirking and running his fingers up your shin more deliberately, taking delight in the way your pupils dilated and your breathing hitched. 

"That little bitch on the throne is blocking me from granting Ghost a proper title, I can imagine her face when she realises he's married the sole noble of the Western territory."

You could barely concentrate and he ran his hand up and down your leg, cresting over your knee occasionally causing the brush of his pinky against the swell of your breasts. That fizzing heightened and you involuntarily shifted, feeling a jolt between your legs from the friction of squeezing them together. You tried to focus, to keep your eyes on him and actually find out what was going on. If the whole situation wasn't already wildly improper you were sure you would have reacted with more horror at him addressing the Queen of this nation as a little bitch.

"I don't... Western territory? I am sorry your Royal Highness, I'm only a Duchess of the Kingdom to the West. I'm not a noble of any of the territories here," you said, not able to keep your voice even and instead hearing the breathlessness of it floating through the steam. 

"There is no Kingdom to the West Duchess, not after the Duke dared to mark what wasn't his to touch," the Prince cooed, as if it wasn't something world shattering to have said. Your Kingdom had been fighting a war with another small Kingdom for years only to be conquered in the space of a month. For you. They had conquered a whole Kingdom because of a mark on your cheek. 

You were overwhelmed, heart beating violently fast and frozen muscles going pliant. Plaint enough for him to apply pressure and shift your legs a little so they weren't completely pinned against your chest, allowing his exploration to continue past your knee and to your thigh. You heard a desperate whimper on the air, confused when you realised a second after it must have come from you. 

The Prince chuckled, shifting his body so that he could guide your head to his shoulder, holding a hand to your hair to keep you there. Your hands came to cling to his shirt, soaking it. You didn't know what was happening to you and it was grounding to be able to bury your face into him, cutting off your sight so you could try and get a handle of your other senses.

"That's it Duchess, just relax yeah? Ghost doesn't want to break you on your wedding night, so we're going to work on getting you nice and ready for him until then" he whispered right behind your ear. 

You didn't know what he meant. Nobody had ever prepared you for what happened on the wedding night, until a month ago you hadn't even known you were to be married so soon. When his hand finally dipped between your legs to cup at you there you cried out, tears spilling over at the new sensation. 

"Gods you've never-" he growled lightly, only stopping himself when he felt you tense to pause and readjust his voice to be gentler as he carefully ran a finger up your slit. "Bet they told you it was a sin, that you couldn't touch yourself here" he groaned when he felt the change in texture from water to arousal. 

They had their work cut out for them getting you ready for the Hunt. MacTavish would oversee the ritual of it obviously, would massage the divine oils into your flesh and dress you properly to be released into the woods after the wedding ceremony. When Ghost hunted you down and took what was rightfully his it would seal the marriage in the eyes of the old Gods, but he would be in a frenzy from the incense, incapable of preparing you properly in his pursuit of sinking into your heat and marking you his from the inside. So they would have to do what they could for you beforehand, spend the next week before the ceremony doing everything to keep you wet and wanting.

Kyle, clear headed and not under the influence of any of Johnny's bloody Druid smokes or potions, already found it hard to keep calm. The noises you were making, it was like a challenge being presented to him to get you to make more. Get you boneless and begging for it. When he started to make firm circles on your clit he got unbearably hard at the broken moan spilling from your lips as your hips started to move.

You felt like you were standing on the top of a tower looking over the edge, your stomach in knots. You had been told it was sinful to touch yourself in this way and in your efforts to be only the best daughter you could be you had taken heed and never tried. But this? Gods it was setting you ablaze. You could feel your insides clenching on nothing, feel your hips lifting to push against his fingers. He was speaking absolute sin into your ear and it made every sensation more intense, sending pulses of pleasure straight down to your core.

"Doing so well Duchess, pretty little clit taking it so well. Doesn't it feel good?"

You whined incoherently. You were desperate for something you couldn't name, feeling incomplete.

"I know Duchess, I know. Beautiful cunt wants something to clench on, greedy little thing" he said, fingers leaving your clit to trace down and circle your entrance, teasing with just the tip of his finger pushing against you before he growled and returned to your clit with renewed vigour. "You're going to cum for me. You're going to cum just like this tonight and tomorrow I'll make sure you get a finger inside to squeeze yeah? Fuck love going to get you to beg for my tongue, get Price to teach you how to ask real nice for it."

You couldn't really focus on the words anymore, too lost in the approaching crest of this wave. Kyle was mostly saying them for himself now anyway, hips rutting away against the side of the tub to try and get some relief. 

The orgasm was the most intense thing you recalled ever feeling, body going taught like a bowstring as the Prince brought you through it with his fingers. Your whole body felt like it had been flooded with sensation and then all at once you were boneless, limbs dead weights.

"Good girl Duchess."

You were shivering now, the water having cooled. When his hand left the water you went to move your head, but his other hand kept it there. You could hear the sound of skin on skin, his hot breath at your ear getting heavier and more strained before the sound stopped after a loud groan from him. You weren't sure what was going on, but it made you tingle a little again between your legs. 

His hand returned to the water, dipping in and out a few times before he finally let your head out from his shoulder. The dim light hurt your eyes after so long in darkness and before you could try and ask him what had just happened he scooped you out of the tub, not caring that he was getting his clothing completely soaked in the process.

The next 10 minutes were confusing and blurry in your mind, him drying you off and dressing you for bed like he was a servant rather than the Prince of a Kingdom that had just conquered yours. He tucked you in, bade you goodnight and made his way to the door. 

You thought that was it until he paused, tensed. Was he going to reveal that this had been a test and you had failed? Were you about to be thrown out? You had never felt so thoroughly ruined and anxious before. What did he want from you?

Kyle knew he shouldn't, but fuck it, what was the use in being a Prince if he couldn't indulge in the small things every once in a while. He whirled around, marched back to you in the bed and pressed a hard kiss to your lips before leaving again, making sure to lock the door behind him. Price was leaning on the wall in the hallway waiting for him, raising an eyebrow when taking in the absolute state Kyle was in.

"Fine" Kyle sighed, "I admit that this was a good idea, you were right and I should never have doubted you and your magnanimity. Happy?"

"Cheeky today Gaz?"

"Nah, just taking the piss. It was a good call Sir, she'll be good for Ghost."

He licked his lips on his way to his chambers and felt a rush of heat at the taste of you lingering there. Not just Ghost he thought.

[not-my-final-account]

Danny is Gotham

PS most of the ghost stuff in this is fannon

Most ghosts had haunts. Technically Danny Phantom had the whole world, but it wasn’t his haunt.

Most cities had ghosts. Technically Gotham had loads of ghosts, but Lady Gotham was fading.

-

I went incorporeal as the beam of energy flew at me, then laughed “What?” Tucker asked, my hands flew over my key board as I beat the noob who had shot at me in the first place.

“I got shot at in game and disappeared in real life.” I said

“That’s you- Danny Clueless Phantom.” Sam said

“Hey!” I retaliated, but it was affectionate.

I didn’t fully understand this whole ghost thing yet. But I had figured out that ghosts had cores, and haunts, and ‘fraids. Cores were essentially the soul of a ghost and that’s pretty much all I’ve figured out. No one seems to remember that I have no clue how any of this stuff works! I’m still a new ghost.

But anyways, ‘fraids were… the best word I could think of was ghost families or animal packs but ghost, and like it or not Sam and Tucker had been accepted into mine. I wasn’t sure quite how it happened but now I seemed connected to them, and when I was happy with them (and/or we were laughing together) my core hummed happily.

Haunts however, I had none of. Haunts were basically a ghosts house or an area the ghost claims as their own or protects. I dunno if they represent status or anything but being a ghost king without haunt seemed pretty bad.

“Yeah!” Tucker yelled as we got another key.

“Only a trillion more to go.” Sam said sarcastically,

“Five actually.” I said. Suddenly I felt a tug on my core “Guys I gotta go.”

“Bye!” Sam and Tucker called in unison. It made me smile as I powered down the game and then my computer, I gave into the tug and let it pull me to where the summoning was.

I had already transformed into my most regal form on the short journey there, so I didn’t hesitate to grab the edge of the circle. What did worry me though was the screaming that started the second I reached my hand up. I cursed whoever made these things for making you pull yourself up and not just be able to fly out, but I got up due to Sams pull up training.

The second I got out I flew up and hovered above the circle ready for battle. I actually blinked when I saw three kids standing in front of me- well one was standing, the other two were lying on the floor and hugging each other.

“Ehh.” I said as I took in what they were doing. The two on the floor were shaking and in hysterics and the standing up one was staring up at me with wide eyes, I think he’s in shock. I reached out slightly and his mouth fell open and he dropped the book he was holding then passed out.

The books title was ‘ghost summoning’ oh my god I’ve been summoned by idiots. I gave them a growl so they wouldn’t try to do this again and prepared myself to dive back into the summoning circle and into the phantom realm where I could quickly fly back to my house and start playing DOOM again. Then I felt a tug in my core. It wasn’t like a summoning which tugged at my core from the outside, trying to pull me somewhere, this was part of my kingly duties; a ghost was in trouble and/or calling for me.

I flew off towards the ghost without a second thought about the party I had probably ruined just by existing and got there in seconds. I landed atop a hill and wind swept my hair away from my face, a skinny grey ghost who seemed like someone you’d spot it old movies looked at me.

She had straight black flowing down her shoulders, a large light grey hat with a grey peacock feather on it, a grey dress and a shade umbrella, she was clearly old although still beautiful and she moved with grace as she stepped before me and fell to her knees

“King Phantom.” she said, how weak her voice was worried me “I am lady Gotham. However Gotham is no longer the beautiful city I knew it to be, it is not close enough to my home and I fear that it has changed too much for me to be strongly connected to it, my power to protect it is fading. Please my King, I have heard you are strong and kind, protect my city, both from what’s outside and what’s inside.” she begged, she was clearly dignified and her begging meant this was truely important. Well, I did need a haunt.

“Okay.” I agreed, relief flooded her face and something else flooded my, I couldn’t name it if I tried but at least it filled an emptiness that had been resident there for a while.

The Lady Gotham fell to the ground, her body faded rapidly

“Please.” she rasped breathlessly “Take good care of them. Protect my city, protect my knight and his sons.” those were her final words.

“I will.” I said, and upon hearing that she slumped down and let herself fade.

I looked up at the city and went incorporeal and invisible. Good thing it was the school holidays, I think I’d need to spend a few days here and find Lady Gothams knight.

-

I sat down in a corner. I had found out that here I more or less was the city, not body horror or possession though, in a weird way. But it let me sit here fully visible and still be hidden, the shadows wrapped around me and nothing part of the city- my city would hurt me.

I watched as he fought. He was strong, smart, and had resources. I had read the news papers and this was the Dark Knight, he has multiple side kicks who many believed were his family, and even without my help he blended in with the city and knew it like the back of his hand. The blend wasn’t seamless anymore though, he had noticed something was different but didn’t know quite what. I knew though, I knew I had found Lady Gothams knight.

I let him tie up the criminals and he jumped onto a roof top. I followed him and and let the fog hide me, then I landed and let it fade. “Hello my knight.” I called because he was my knight now. He froze and spun around to face me but didn’t attack

“My name is Batman and I am no ones, if you’re some high ranking government offical I assure you I don’t work for the police either.” Batman said, he glanced at the inches between my feet and the ground “Who are you?” he asked, I hesitated.

What title would be best here? Danny Phantom? Danny Fenton? King Phantom? I thought about Lady Gotham and decided.

“You would know me as Gotham.” I introduced, wow that sounded more cryptic that I meant it to. Batman scoffed and I reached out and told the city to curl around him, to protect him and hide him and power him like it did with Lady Gotham.

He froze then relaxed slightly, his cape blended into the shadows instead of ending, his face became almost fully obscured, his eyes glowed in the dark menacingly, his form became something less human.

“Why reveal yourself to me now Gotham?” he asked, for once there was nothing hostile in his voice.

“Gotham has changed too much in the past years for Lady Gotham to have power anymore, she is too weak to be anywhere but the ghost zone.” I explained “She was the Gotham you knew. She called for me to protect the city and protect you.”

Batman looked wary again, I could understand why he wouldn’t trust me. New leadership could suck (or be evil) and it took a while for them to gain respect, especially if you didn’t know them.

“I’ll protect you in a general sense, but if you ever really need help, like life or death help, call for me.” I said, then I let a wave of fog swallowed me and disappeared.

[badgerbl00d]

one piece boys falling in love at first sight

☆ characters: ace, rayleigh, marco

☆ up next: one piece characters with a jealous gf

☆ a/n: my last post generated a lot of new followers and requests! i'm so happy and am excited to start working on all the requests. i also will be posting a master list soon so thank u for being patient with me on that front haha. enjoy! <3

ace

1k words

“Welcome aboard!!”

Cheers erupted from the crew, as they all swarmed the deck.

Joining the Whitebeard Pirates was always celebrated with an enormous party. 

The sun had started to set but it still beat down relentlessly on the ship and Ace craned his neck to try and get a better view.

You were all the crew had been talking about for weeks. 

Some thief who had managed to steal from the Whitebeard Pirates and get away with it. 

He remembers how Whitebeard laughed when Izo and Thatch came moping back from inventory, nearly pissing themselves when they were forced to admit they’d been got by an amateur. 

Whitebeard had ordered that you be tracked down immediately because anyone who stole from him with that much skill and audacity deserved a spot on his crew. 

After a few weeks of searching, Izo came back with you. 

From what he’d heard you weren’t easy to convince. 

There was alcohol being passed around and the spray of champagne bottles being opened left and right misted his neck. 

He pushed through everyone and began making his way toward the front.

He eventually bumped into Marco who’d secured a front-row seat, downing beer as your fellow pirates all came to get a look at you. 

“What’s the big fuss? Can’t get any damn sleep around here,” he groaned. 

Marco laughed, “Jealous that you’re not the shiny new toy anymore?”

“Barely.”

Both men had given up on trying to get a look at you and decided they’d wait for everything to die down.

“Want a beer?” 

Ace nodded and readily accepted the cool can, chugging it within seconds.

“It’s hot as hell out here.”

Marco took another sip of his drink, “If you feel hot how do you think I feel.”

“Well you’re kind of fire too, you know, like- the whole phoenix thing is-”

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s different though.”

“I mean, you could argue that the blue fire is hotter than the red part.”

“Yeah, dumbass, but the point of my devil fruit isn’t fire.”

“Okay well, they’re close enough.”

The heat got the better of the both of them and they gave up their argument, both fairly moody at the heat and the noise. 

“When’s the food part starting.”

“Soon probably, apparently Thatch has the hots for the kid.”

Ace choked a bit on his drink.

“What do you mean? Like he thinks he’s hot?”

“She.”

This caught Ace even more off-guard. 

“She!?”

Now he really wanted to get a look at you.

After another few minutes, the crowd relented, and people started making their way back to the rest of the ship. 

As the group of cheering pirates around you thinned, you felt relief flooding your senses. 

You took a deep breath and walked on board the Moby Dick.

It was massive. Now that you could actually see it, you realized just how intimidating of a ship this really was. Of course, you’d had a general idea since you did rob it blind, but still. It was different when you were a welcome guest. 

Ace took his chance now, and as the last of your welcoming party dissipated he made his way over to you.

As if on cue, you turned to look at him. 

The sun was positioned perfectly behind your head and framed you in a sort of angelic light, it poured up and over your frame from behind you, casting golden hues through your h/c hair. 

He stopped in his tracks, one foot still caught mid-step, trailing behind the other.

You were… pretty.

The slight breeze that had been brought with sunset, swept through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open.

Your lips were slightly parted, had you been saying something?

He didn’t know, he was too enraptured with everything else. 

You stood tall, it was clear you had pride to spare.

Your tan skin glimmered with the same regal hue as your hair, and never in his life had Ace felt that something- someone had commanded his attention so thoroughly with just their presence. 

You walked toward him, Oh my god she’s walking toward me.

He was proud and he had abundant confidence in his worth but if he’d ever doubted that, it was now that he did. 

You extended a hand towards Ace, and as if moving through honey your movement was gentle and smooth, but certain. 

“Hi! I’m Y/n, I think I’ve seen your wanted posters before. You-”

Whatever else you said wasn’t registered by the freckled boy in front of you. 

His cheeks were red and his eyes set.

He was breathing deeply, hanging onto everything you did, drinking in the magnificent sight of you.

He instinctively reached his hand up toward his head to take off his hat and hold it against his chest.

Your voice was silky and hung in the air like cigarette smoke. 

The way you looked at him, your eyes intensely focused and direct, had his knees feeling shaky. 

Any ounce of ego left in his body from the first sight of you, drained out of him as you spoke.

His brain was flushed with sudden anxieties.

Had he come across as a creep? What if you took to the other guys? He was young and maybe you wanted something else? Maybe you didn’t even want a guy at all and your ambitions involving piracy had nothing to do with men! 

You looked at him with a puzzled look, your nose wrinkled slightly.

“Are you okay?”

Fuck, she’s so cute.

If he had been less out of it, he would have heard Marco’s cackling in the background.

“Real smooth, Ace!” Thatch yelled from the balcony outside the kitchen.

You laughed, She laughed!

Ace blinked back the muddled thoughts and premature anxieties that had started fuzzing his thoughts. 

You were giggling to yourself and seemed nearly ready to try and introduce yourself to the next person. 

Ace had a million things he wanted to say to you, but he had time. You both had all the time in the world. 

So he instead opted to tip his hat and flash you a smile. 

“Hi.”

rayleigh

1k words

A quick stop, Roger had promised.

No more than two days, he’d said.

Everyone knew he was lying, and that they’d be landbound for at least a week, but no one was going to complain.

Almost no one.

“Roger, we should get going,” Rayleigh urged, but the Captain was three beers and ฿3,000 into a game of poker. They wouldn’t be leaving until morning.

Roger laughed loudly, earning stares from the bar's patrons. 

“What’re you in such a rush for?! There’re women and booze all over the island, go find some to your liking and quit complainin’!” He laughed again and Rayleigh gave up and decided he’d just head back to the ship for now. He’d send someone to pick up the captain in the morning. 

He didn’t mind the island itself. It was a spring island, and the clime sat at a gentle temperature, with easy-going winds. Tall grass covered the majority of the island and flowers were in bloom all over. 

Yellow daffodils and pink tulips littered the island, dotting the hills and fields with spots of color. 

He made his way slowly back toward the ship, taking more time than usual to enjoy the scenery. If he was going to be stuck here he may as well enjoy it. 

The sun was just about the set, and vibrant hues of orange colored the sky and with his hands in his pockets, he wandered through the hills back to sea. 

The island had no real port, there was just a bay where ships parked. There weren’t any walkways or built-in passages from which to disembark from the ship, you simply had to drop the anchor and paddle or swim to the rocky shore. The grass grew right up to the edge of the ocean, and he sat down in it, deciding he’d wait until it got dark. 

A soft rustling to his left caught his attention.

Tucked in the grass, was a girl sleeping, a book in her hands. 

She was wearing a white dress, and it moved together with the grass, back and forth, pushed by the wind.

A cool breeze ran through your body and with a slight shiver, you slowly blinked your eyes open, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, rolling onto your stomach. 

You flipped through the pages of your book, going back and forth a few times before deciding to close it altogether. 

You sat up, stretching your arms out over your head, letting your hair fall over your shoulders. 

Rayleigh was, for lack of a better term, entranced. 

He was completely hypnotized by the sight of you. 

He felt as though you’d materialized before him, a beautiful fairy or something similar.

He’d heard stories of sailors coming across women whose beauty stopped them in their tracks. Women that they thought about every night after those initial encounters, held a complete hold on their minds.

He thought that now he felt something similar. 

He felt awkward just sitting and watching you, and thought he might say something. 

A tug in his chest urged him to stand up and try and present himself, but he felt an irritating nervousness spread throughout his body.

C’mon, Rayleigh.

He was usually so… good at this. 

If he saw a pretty girl at a bar or a port or an island he would just talk to her. 

Everything after that came naturally. 

He was a Roger pirate for god’s sake, people around the globe feared him and revered him, and yet… and yet with every breath, he took to try and start a sentence he came up blank. 

The thirty seconds he’d spent trying to speak to you felt like an hour and he thought his heart might stop when you’d turned around to look at him. 

“Oh! Hello!”

He drew in a breath. 

The colored sunset light fell on your face and illuminated your features in soft hues.

Your eyes widened slightly at the man standing before you and you gave him an awkward smile. 

“Have you been standing there a long time?”

An accusatory look settled on your face, and your lips settled into a frustrated pout.

“I, um, yes,” he admitted, a blush creeping onto his face, “I wasn’t- I mean- I had just sat here to enjoy the, um-”

“Yeah, yeah, you creep, I get it.”

You laughed as you said this, and he relaxed a little.

“You’re not from around here are you?” you asked.

“What gave it away?”

“You seem surprised that someone was sleeping outside. It’s normal here, I swear I’m not some weirdo or anything. Our grass is known for being soft.”

He sat back down, slightly closer to you this time.

“What’s that?”

You sat closer to him, pointing to the log pose on his wrist. 

“It’s a compass. Pirates use it on the Grand Line, it works by using the magnetism from each island to route the way toward the next one.”

“You’re a pirate! You don’t look like one! Or act like one.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

You giggled, and he felt completely swept up by your presence. How quickly you started trusting him, the curiosity in your voice that only grew with each question he answered. 

You continued asking him questions, what being a pirate was like, why he was a pirate, and who else did he know that was a pirate. Had he killed anybody?

The more you talked, the more he started feeling like himself. His wittiness and sarcasm started slowly coming back to him, he was able to put aside his awe for your beauty in exchange for his usual flirtiness.

The dynamic between you seemed to shift back and forth between who felt bold and who felt shy. 

“Do you drink?”

“Do I look like I drink?”

Rayleigh laughed, and you joined him. 

Night had set hours ago, yet you kept talking as though you had all the time in the world.

You inched even closer to him, he sat with his legs crossed, and you sat on your knees, feet tucked underneath you. 

You were facing each other and you leaned forward, bringing your lips closer to his.

“When do you leave?”

He tucked some stray pieces of hair behind your ear, trailing a hand down your face.

You rested your head against his palm, looking up at him. 

“Soon.”

“That’s too bad. I like you a lot. You’re more than a pretty face.”

Rayleigh smiled at that, “I haven’t heard that one before!”

In a burst of energy and eagerness you pressed your lips to his, and just as quickly retracted. 

He smiled again, bigger this time, and brought his arms around your waist, holding you in place. 

You pressed another kiss to his lips, still too quickly for him to reciprocate. 

He laughed and you felt proud at the blush you saw coloring his cheeks. 

“Tell me, pirate, are you busy tonight?”

“Not at all, pretty.”

“Would you like to be?”

“Very much.

marco 

1.2k words

“Why can’t you send Ace to do it?”

“‘Cause I sent ‘im to go get fish from the market,” Thatch explained, “And before you ask, I can’t go either ‘cause I’ll be here. Cooking.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll be back soon.”

Marco threw on a sweater and made his way into the town they were staying in. Thatch was all worked up and excited since they’re known for their produce and food quality.

Naturally, everyone had been sent out to get different ingredients for him.

Marco looked down at the short list he was given, ‘Apples’. 

‘Very concise,’ he thought to himself. 

It was midday and the sun was shining. It was fairly warm on the island, and it was covered in trees. 

There were several signs that pointed him towards the location of the apple farm your family owned. 

He found it with ease and walked around for a bit when he didn’t see anyone out front. 

Every tree was teaming with ripe apples of all kinds. Overripe ones littered the floor and there were some chickens walking around. 

He had been walking for no more than five minutes before he saw you.  

You were reaching up to try and grab the apples that were up on the higher branches of the tree.

You strained your arms upward, using the trunk of the tree as support, your long legs balancing on the tips of your toes. 

Your short dress slid up against your thighs, revealing a soft tan line. 

A few beads of sweat formed on your forehead and after your third reach with no success, you gave up. 

He could feel the pace of his heartbeat start to pick up slightly. 

You looked so calm and at ease. The line of your body as you stretched upward was tantalizing and he couldn’t look away. 

He didn’t want to scare you so he gently cleared his throat.

You turned around in a panic, knocking over a few of the apples in the full baskets that were on the floor next to you.

“Oh! Welcome! Sorry! Sorry- I’m the only one in today and I was trying to get a few more baskets full,” you explained to him. 

“No worries,” Marco said. His voice was deep and he sounded so laid back. 

You were still a bit too far to converse at a normal volume so you walked to him, caught off-guard by how handsome he was. 

He wasn’t wearing anything surprising, nor was he doing anything that was out of the ordinary but you could tell that he wasn’t from around here. 

His hands were calloused and he had a few visible scars spread across the visible parts of his skin.

“What can I get for you today,” you smiled at him. 

“I was sent out for apples! I suppose I’ll take two baskets pleas-”

Marco’s voice trailed off and he cut off his own sentence as he looked and actually made eye contact with you. 

Oh, god. 

He knew you’d probably be hot based on what he’d seen earlier but you were… unspeakably beautiful. 

Your cheeks were full and bright.

Your lips were a lively pink and your eyes caught the shifting glimmers of sunlight in them.

Your hair was pulled back into two messy braids and your loose strands of hair swept back and forth over your face. 

You were unbelievably flattered. 

Naive as you were to love and its complications, you knew what a tempted man looked like. 

An unfamiliar sensation tugged at your chest. You felt like the tendons and muscles around your heart were opening and contracting wildly. 

Your breath hitched in your throat and settled itself right on your vocal cords, you couldn’t say anything. 

You both held a hilariously awkward form of eye contact for several moments. 

Marco swallowed and cleared his mind, regaining his composure to the best of his ability.

“Two of these,” he said again, blinking his gaze down toward the floor as he gestured down toward the basket. 

You took a deep breath and nodded, grabbing another basket for him. 

They were heavier than they looked and after watching your two failed tries at lifting the baskets, Marco offered some help. “Oh, y-yes, please! Thanks,” you said, stepping back as he walked over and picked up the baskets with ease.

“How much do I owe ya?”

“Um.. j-just ฿15.”

“Fifteen?! That’s it?”

“We have, um, a discount going on right now... For handsome travelers.”

Why would I say that? Oh my god, why would I say that!? your cheeks started to rapidly heat up and you shuffled your feet nervously.

Your heart started beating faster against your chest when Marco responded, “How sweet. Take this as a tip then.”

He had a devilishly handsome smile on his face, and you looked at the money he was handing you. “Oh fifty is way too much- I can’t accept that, that’s more than the two baskets would normally be anyway.”

“Well, this is what I always tip beautiful girls.”

You laughed, trying to ignore the rising temperature of your face. 

How embarrassing to be this easily flustered. 

He smiled at you, clearly enjoying himself. 

“C’mon, I insist,” he closed your hand around the money and gently guided your hand back toward your chest. 

You pouted, feeling guilty that he gave you so much money.

“You’re sure?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a pirate,” he said, “There’s a lot more where this came from.”

His voice was full of confidence but he was so relaxed. 

It made your stomach twist.

The way he carried himself- you could tell he was dangerous, but he was so laid back. 

“A pirate?”

He nodded.

You put the money away, and played with the ends of your braids, unsure of what to say to him. 

He bent down, one arm on each side of you.

Your breath caught in your throat and you stood frozen still.

He picked up the baskets, one in each hand, from your sides.

“As much as I’d love to spend the rest of my day here, I’m afraid I have to report back soon.”

You nodded, sheepishly looking down at the floor. 

He smiled at you again, winking this time. 

He turned and started walking back toward the entrance.

You knew you’d probably never see him again and a kind of unknown anxiety made its way to your chest. 

“Wait!” you called out, running after him.

He turned around.

“Will... Will I see you again?”

This time a less nonchalant smile spread across the Commander’s face. 

“Oh, absolutely,” he teased, “I’ve got wanted posters in every town from here to North Blue.”

You pouted again.

So cute! Marco thought to himself.

“You know what I mean.”

“I can work something out.”

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Marco,” he answered, “What’s yours?”

“Y/n.”

“Pretty name for a pretty face.”

You smiled. 

He couldn’t help but stare. 

It suddenly dawned on Marco the Phoenix, First Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, that he was positively, undoubtedly fucked. 

You stood in front of him, waiting for him to say something else. 

“You’ll see me again,” he said, this time with unwavering certainty,

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6. Don’t make plans for the next morning.”

[springseasonie]

Two worlds apart | JJH (M)

Prince Jaehyun x maid fem reader, arranged marriage trope, forbidden love trope

Part 2.

Summary: Jaehyun can't stay away from you, even on his wedding night. And his new wife knows about the fondness you both have for each other, but is willing to rip it apart. However, the last thing Jaehyun wants is to be a part from you, for better or for worse. (This is based in 19th century england, regency era fashion bc i love bridgerton and used it for inspo for this fic.)

Warnings: sexual content, angst, unprotected (it's literally the 19th century), standing sex, infidelity, historically inaccurate but idc, proofread but there may be little mistakes here and there

Word count: 7,2k

Song recs: cool with you by new jeans

A/N: this was requested but I loved the idea so much that I had to write more than needed lmao. Wasn't intending to write smut for this but sometimes shit happens. Feedback is loved and appreciated as always 🩷🩷

"Jaehyun?"

You rubbed your eyes, voice groggy from just being woken out of your sleep. The prince was in the maid's quarters. Why was he in the maid's quarters? It was the night after his wedding and was spending it on one of his family's many estates, but why was he not spending his night with his new wife and looking for you?

"My grace, what are you doing–"

He pulled the covers off you quickly, wild eyes looking between you and the other maid that was fast asleep on the other side of the room. The oil lamp was bright, shining in your eyes in the pitch black room. "Come on," he said quietly, pulling you up from your bed.

You shook your head, trying to get away from him, but his grip was too strong. Before you knew it, you were out the door of your room and being pulled down the hall of the basement. "M-my grace, you shouldn't be doing this right now," you said, trying to remain calm as your heart basically beat from your chest.

"Y/N, I tried, I really did." Jaehyun led you up the stairs, looking around for any guards or any of his wife's staff.

His hold on your hand was strong as he sped walk through the hall, wanting to avoid the lurking eyes of anyone who might ruin his plans for the night. Jaehyun was the prince of Florin, a small but wealthy country. His whole life, he was mentally beaten with the responsibility of continuing the family line, marrying a princess from another country to join Florin and make it richer and more powerful. His parents were never in love, his mother only fulfilling her responsibility as a woman and bearing a child for the king.

His whole life he thought love wasn't a real thing, that's what his father told him anyway. "Love is weak. It makes you weak, and you can't be weak in a world where weakness gets you nowhere." He believed these words for a long time, never having a reason to care about anyone, or even himself. That was true until he met you. You were his first love, and possibly his last. Jaehyun couldn't even tell you when and why he loves you so much he just did and he wanted to be with you forever, but he knew that couldn't be. Both of you did.

You couldn't say you were in love with him, but you definitely fell first. Maybe it was his handsome face, regal demeanor, the way he carried himself. You didn't know. But what you did know is that your feelings crossed the line. You remember the first time he kissed you after making you confess your feelings, the smile on his face, the way he looked down at you in his fancy clothes. At that moment you knew you couldn't get yourself out of the hell hole you were in now.

You and Jaehyun have been flirting around for years, him always pulling you away from your responsibilities. He often snatched you from your duties in the kitchen, taking you into the pantry to kiss and talk to you. The other maids saw the way he looked at you, but never said a word about it. He would watch you around the castle, eyes lingering and never looking away even when they should. His parents knew how much he liked you, but never said anything. But one day, his mother did catch the both of you. She threatened to have your head on a stick, but Jaehyun convinced her it was all him and she let you stay.

Jaehyun pulled you to the back of the estate, opening the door as he walked you through the rain.

"My grace, it's storming. We shouldn't be out here," you shouted, covering your head as much as you could. Jaehyun didn't care about the rain, he didn't care about anything. He just needed to be alone with you.

Jaehyun didn't say anything, his face remained completely stone cold as he pulled you under the cabana a ways from his home. He stood in front of you, staring at your bewildered face. Your hair was wet, moist eyes shining in the moonlight. The fabric of your clothes were clinging to your skin, the now wet gown going see through.

You hadn't even noticed, but Jaehyun did. He was right to always be a gentleman, to never let his desires cloud his eyes, but goodness. Your chest looked so good through the fabric. However, he has to remain calm and collected. Jaehyun took a deep breath, gulping before speaking.

"I want to be with you Y/N."

You truly did not know what to say. He pulled you out of your bed in the middle of the night out into the rain just to tell you this? "My grace, is this what you woke me for?"

Jaehyun took your hands looking down at you, eyes shifting between your eyes and lips. "I don't want to be married to her Y/N." His eyes shook, grip on your hands getting tight. He needed to be near you, close to you. For the past couple of months, you were his world, his only concern. But being forced into a marriage with a woman he barely knew for a week crushed him. He knew he couldn't be with you, but it hurt nonetheless.

"We should not be out here. It is your wedding night and you should be with her right now," you said sternly. Jaehyun noticed the way you looked around frantically. You were scared of being caught again, he could tell.

"Don't be scared. There is no one out here on a stormy night like this," he said softly.

"But the queen– she'll kill me if she sees me. She'll kill you if she sees me. Jaehyun we cannot continue like this," you said, brows furrowing. You didn't want to see him in a loveless marriage. You cared for him too much, but you couldn't keep putting your safety on the line. You always felt like he didn't understand you. Jaehyun had always had everything his whole life, never having to live with fear of losing anything or anyone. Of course, his responsibilities as a prince were different from yours – you were just a poor maid after all. But he seems so oblivious to your life and what you do, and this is one of the moments when he thinks life is easy for you just as it is for him.

"My mother says a lot of things. You do not need to worry about her. Her threats are empty," he said with a small smile.

"My grace… you are very naive," you sighed. "I am not safe here. I am not safe with you."

Jaehyun's happy expression slowly fades after hearing your words. You weren't safe with him? "You'll always be safe with me," he said, letting go of your hands.

"We are from 2 different worlds. I can never be safe with you. Even if you shield me with armor, I still wouldn't be safe," you said, taking his hands softly. "Please don't make that face at me."

"I'm not making a face." Jaehyun looked angry and hurt. He couldn't even lie to you even if he tried being the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. But he wasn't hurt by your words, more so the fact that everything you said was true. "I love you Y/N."

You've heard him say he loves you many times, but never like this. This time wasn't like a lovestruck puppy, he said it with conviction. Jaehyun was seriously in love with you. You didn't say anything, the storm getting worse as the big rain droplets fell onto the roof of the cabana, filling the space. "My grace–"

"Please just say my name," he sighed. "Right now it's just you and me. Just say my name, there is no need for formalities."

"Jaehyun," you started, "you can't love me. You must love your wife in the house."

The words stung his heart like needles. The reality of this unwanted situation kept coming through the light over and over again. He did not want to be with anyone that wasn't you and he knew he was in too deep. Just look at him – in the rain with you and not consummating his marriage with his now wife. He hated himself for falling so deeply for you, but was addicted to the fuzzy feeling in his heart, the butterflies in his stomach when he saw you. He wanted it all the time.

"Do you love me?"

You always pushed the thought of loving him to the back of your mind knowing it would get you nowhere, but at the moment, maybe you really did. You would never tell anyone how badly his marriage hurt you, watching him be wedded to a woman he barely knew for a week and expected to have a child with her. It was supposed to be you. In another world or another life it would've been you. But there's no point in suppressing your feelings anymore, not when his pretty brown eyes are looking at you like you're his whole world.

"Jaehyun, I cherish you alot," you answered, not wanting to confess yet. "I'll always cherish you."

"I..I want to be a good husband to her, but I don't think I can," he said. "I don't want to be like my father and have a mistress, I don't think I can live without you."

You hadn't realized you were crying until Jaehyun reached a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"Please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry," he said softly. Jaehyun pulled you closer to him gently, kissing your forehead.

"I'm tired Jaehyun," you sighed. You didn't want to talk anymore. The more you talked, the more you wanted to cry in his arms. You already had a long stressful day doing whatever task you had to do, so you would rather not create more stress for yourself. "You have a ball tomorrow, and I have to help set it up and help your– my princess."

Jaehyun gulped, reluctantly letting your hands go. Nodding, he took a step back. He did have a ball that he completely forgot about. Instead of getting rest, he was out in this stormy weather with you. "I understand. We will talk again tomorrow."

"Jaehyun–"

"We will talk again tomorrow," he repeated, tone dominant and a bit loud cutting you off.

You shook your head at his persistence. "Fine. We'll talk tomorrow. Goodnight, your grace.

"Goodnight." Jaehyun watched you run off into the rain, covering your head as much as you could to protect yourself from the rain. He wished he could just run away with you far from this place, this country, the palace. But for now all he could do was whisper the words he meant dearly as you ran.

"I love you."

"And are all the decorations ready?"

"Yes, your grace."

"And the invitations have been sent out?"

"Of course your grace."

Princess Rose stood tall as you pulled and tightened her corset, disposition remaining unphased as the garment squeezed her waist without warning. She was beautiful. Many people said she may be the most beautiful woman in the world. When you first met her, you wondered how long it would be until Jaehyun fell out of love with you. Her skin was as clear as a lake, eyes big and brown, body made of soft curves. Her smile lit up a room, but even with her image, Rose demanded respect and power anywhere she went. The perfect princess. The perfect queen.

She cleared her throat, making you glance up to look at her through the mirror. You almost stopped breathing realizing she was staring at you through the reflection, face stone cold. "Everyone out. Except you miss Y/N. You stay."

You tie the string tight in a bow, removing your hands from her body as soon as you are done. All of the other women in the room left in a hurry, not turning back to even get a glimpse of you or her.

The door shut, a loud echo making its way around the room. Rose turned around, her beauty becoming even more evident in the sunlight that peeked through the curtain. You stood there, hands folded in front of you as the both of you stood in silence. Rose looked you up and down, blonde brows scrunching as her mind raced with thoughts.

"I'm not jealous of you, you know," she said, breaking the silence.

You stared back at her confused. Jealousy? Where did that come from? "Jealous? I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean my grace," you said softly.

"I mean I'm not jealous of you," she repeated, a small smile tugging at her lips. But this wasn't a normal smile, it was condescending. "I was told that the prince and I would have some issues to work through in the early days of our marriage but I had no idea that said issue would be his very obvious relationship with his maid."

You stood there completely still. She knew. She knew about you and Jaehyun. Was it last night that she found out? Or did she see something the week she was in the country? You and Jaehyun had been so careful, or at least you tried to be. Jaehyun never cared as much as you did. "Let them find out. I don't care," he would always say.

"Calm down, you looked like you've seen a ghost," she said, laughing dryly. "It's alright that you and him have a secret relationship. I find it cute."

Your once shocked expression slowly turned hard, jaw clenching at the tone of her words. Cute? You didn't like that she called what you and Jaehyun had cute, especially not in that belittling tone. "Are you going to punish me for it?"

Rose suddenly burst into laughter hearing your question, her pretty smile making your stomach turn. "No. Why in the 7 seas would I do that," she said between giggles. "I don't care that he loves you and that you love him. In fact, I'm happy for you. It's hard for the poor to find happiness."

You winced at her statement. So this is what she was really like. Underneath the money, fame, clothes, face, body, she was just like every other royal you ever met. It wasn't surprising, but you didn't think she would shed her skin so quickly.

"I thought he would at least have some sense last night to consummate our marriage." The smile faded from her face, now being replaced with irritation. "A marriage means nothing if you can't produce an heir."

She was right, and it hurt you that she was right. Deep down you wanted all these things with him. The wedding, the wedding night, the honeymoon, the ball – just all of it. It was starting to feel like the princess was throwing all these things you couldn't have in your face. Rose took a step forward, looking at you deep into your eyes with an emotion you couldn't read.

"I know his mother must've caught the two of you at some point," she said quietly. "I'm not his mother, so there is no need to be scared of me."

You let out a small sigh of relief, but the small positive feeling was completely crushed under her feet. "But one thing about me is that I strive to be the best person possible at all times. I will be the best princess, queen, and wife. And the last part doesn't consist of you being with him within these walls."

"So what are you saying?"

Rose squinted her eyes at your sudden drop of honorifics, frown tugging on her lips. "Jaehyun is a very stubborn man, I'm sure you know this. Unless you release him from this mental anguish, he will never be happy, and I'm sure you want him to be happy don't you?"

You did want him to be happy. The only thing you ever wanted from him was to be happy. And your life has taught you that sometimes happiness takes sacrifice. "So you're saying that you want me to end things with him?"

"I knew you were smart," she said with a slight nod. "End things tonight. If you don't, just know things will be painful for the both of you from this point on. Now, do me a favor and let everyone back in."

You hurried to the door, opening it quickly. The other maids all walked back in a hurry, continuing what they were doing like they never stopped. Rose turned around, moving her hair to the front. You've never been more excited to work more than right now. All you wanted to do is delete the conversation you just had from your mind but it weighs heavy.

You have to do it tonight. You have to end things.

All you could hope is that he doesn't make it harder for you.

-

You stood in Jaehyun's office, the lamp softly brightening the space. It smelled of oak wood and lavender, two of his favorite smells. It was such a small space, completely closed off from the rest of the mansion. His office was his favorite place to be. It offered him lots of privacy especially in these days of high stress. He couldn't stand being pestered with all his royal duties, running away from everyone almost immediately.

You stood in the middle of the room, hands toying with the waist of your apron. You were on cooking duty for the rest of the night, so you were covered in all kinds of food and powders. Jaehyun was supposed to be outside with friends, family, acquaintances , her, but the moment he saw the note from you to come to his office he dropped everything to be there.

The music was blaring through the windows, all you could hear and see were expensive people drinking expensive wine in the most expensive clothes. It was traditional for the bride and groom to just simply be on a honeymoon by now, but because this was a special occasion of joining 2 kingdoms, there was a ball for the night.

You jumped, turning around instantly when the door opened. There stood Jaehyun in the most gorgeous suit you've ever seen. This was going to be very hard for you. Your heart pounded right out of your chest excited to see him but saddened with the thought of breaking his heart.

"I got your note," he said, walking up to you. Jaehyun looked you up and down, a smirk on his face at your messy appearance.

"Don't look at me like that," you said, face growing hot.

A deep chuckle erupted from his throat as he stepped to you, placing a hand on your waist. "I think you look very pretty tonight."

You didn't want to blush but you did, he was far too nice especially when you were covered in food, practically smelling like a bakery. "You should be saying that to your wife."

Jaehyun frowned, sighing at your response. "I did, but she didn't appreciate it as much as you did." He loved your shy, timid attitude. He loved the way you would look at the floor when you were embarrassed or nervous, like you were doing right now.

"J-jaehyun, we cannot continue this," you spoke softly. You needed him to listen to you, but you could tell he wasn't. The man was too busy staring at your lips, eyelids getting heavier the more he stared at you. "We cannot keep seeing each other like this. You are married now and-"

"Please. Can we not talk about this right now," he said softly.

"No. We have to." You removed his hand from your waist, but all he did was put both of them back. At this point, you were internally panicking. Knowing yourself, you can't become assertive with him. Every little touch, look, mention sent you into a spiral. "I want you to be happy and I'm sure you want to be happy. I don't want you to be miserable because of me."

Jaehyun pulled you closer to him gently, staring down into your eyes. "As long as you're around me, I won't be miserable." Jaehyun took your chin gently, tilting your head to look at him. You begin to feel yourself melt into his touch, resolve slowly melting away as he leans in. But you quickly regain your mind, shaking your head as you remove his hand.

"No. I will not do this. I will not be your mistress," you declared, stepping away from him.

Jaehyun stared at you without saying a word, looking at you with an unreadable expression. He knew you better than yourself at this point. When you were nervous or hiding something you would bite the inside of your cheek. Something definitely happened that he didn't know about, and he wants to find out.

"And why not," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Because you deserve to be happy. You deserve a marriage full of love and happiness and I don't intend on stopping that," you said. You could tell he wasn't listening to you since again, eyes trailing up and down your fully covered body.

"Fine."

Fine. Is that it? "Fine? Is that all you have to say?"

"Yes. I agree. I deserve to be happy."

You didn't understand, lashes fluttering in confusion. It was safe to say that you were a bit hurt, his soft stare turning intense, hands never leaving his front. But nonetheless, you nodded despite not wanting to and gathered your dress in your hands. Walking quickly to the door, you grabbed the knob when he spoke again.

"I don't want you to leave," he said.

You gulped, still turning the knob in silence.

"I said I don't want you to leave." Jaehyun's soft tone switched into a deep dark one, walking up to the door, holding it shut with force. He clearly shocked you and watched you remove your hand from the knob startled. Jaehyun had a million things going on through his mind at the moment, all of them having to do with you. "You aren't being yourself. I want you to tell me why."

"What are you talking about," you said quietly, not knowing if you were going to upset him or not.

"I'm saying that there is something you aren't telling me about and that's why you told me to come here tonight."

You couldn't tell him. Not tonight. Maybe another day or night where his reputation isn't solely based on the way he looks at his new wife. You know how he can be when angry, living and taking care of him and his family for many years now. Jaehyun is horrible at hiding facial expressions, even worse when he has to speak. His words have a bite to them, attitude on full display. You didn't want to ruin his night, be the blame for another reason he won't be happy in the future.

"I don't know what you're implying." You placed your hands behind your back, nerves now affecting your once still hands. You were shaking. This situation was a bit dire. You were only a maid, now being stuck in the middle of relationship politics you wanted nothing to do with. Jaehyun was growing ever more irritated with your persistence claiming there was nothing wrong. You looked like you saw a ghost, eyes continuously shifting between him and the window behind him.

Jaehyun likes to think he was a man of great intuition, always able to read people well. He knew right away it had something to do with Rose. "Did she say something to you?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Rose," he said, making himself more clear. "Did she say something to you? Does she know about last night?"

You didn't answer, but your silence was everything he needed. He was angry, face turning red, lips pursing into a thin line. You've seen him mad, but never this mad. He was a smart man, but very impulsive, so when you saw him reach for the doorknob, your heart stopped for what felt like a million years.

"Please don't," you choked out, looking at him with pleading eyes. "We don't need to make this harder than it already is."

"I will not allow anyone to make any threats towards you, especially not on my property," he growled angrily through gritted teeth. Jaehyun grabbed the knob about to turn it, but stopped feeling your hand on his.

"Stop. Just stop." Your voice cracked, tears on the verge of spilling over. "This is why I agreed to do this. I don't want this, Jaehyun."

"Agreed to do what? Tell me. I demand it." His voice boomed through the room. You were certain people outside the window could hear him, like always he didn't care.

"Rose talked to me today in her room," you said, wiping your tears and sniffling. "She said to end things with you."

"And you agreed?"

"Because I had to," you sobbed. "I just want you to be happy. I don't want to be the reason you can't be happy. I don't want to be your mistress, I want to be your world, but if I have to give that up, I will."

Tears spilled down your face, hot and heavy as you cried. Jaehyun was still angry, but his expression softened as he watched you cry. The man wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, trapping you in the warmth of his arms. No one has ever cried for him like this. No one has ever cried because of him like this. Jaehyun starts to feel the weight of the situation and regrets all his last actions. Nothing he has said or done has been in an effort to figure any of this out while you're left with the burden.

"It's okay Y/N. I'm sorry," he whispered, stroking your hair gently as he kissed the top of your head. "I'll never let anyone or anything come between us. I don't care what it takes."

You looked up at him, brows furrowing in worry. "But Jaehyun-"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes. Of course I do."

"Do you love me?"

Yes, I love you. You said the words in your head, but you couldn't get them out. "I.. I.."

Jaehyun sensed your worry, moving his hands to your face, cupping you by both of your cheeks. "I need you to forget about everything that happened today. Forget about whatever she said to you. Just tell me one thing. Tell me if you love me."

"I do love you," you answered sniffling. "I love you Jaehyun."

He wished he could contain the feeling that swelled in his heart finally hearing you say those words but he couldn't, smirk plastered on his face as he wiped your tears with his thumbs softly. Even when you were crying, you were so pretty. He admired you in the silent room, the sound of people chatting and the string instruments being played outside filling the air.

You wrapped your arms around him, huffing his body tight. Jaehyun didn't mind that all the flour was getting on his clothes. He didn't care, as long as you were okay. But Jaehyun wasn't perfect even though he was a prince, he was only just a man.

As much as he hated seeing you sod and cry, there was a tiny voice in the back of his head going on and on about how pretty you were with tears down your face. Your shiny, wet eyes looking up at him wide, brows furrowed. You and Jaehyun had been close before hugging each other or kissing each other when you got the chance, but you've never been close. Jaehyun thought about it all the time, the thought of you pressed against him, hands molding your skin like dough and touching you anyway he wanted. not just telling how much he loves you but showing you.

He was so deep in thought that he never realized that you were staring up at him. "What are you thinking about," you asked softly.

"Just you. Only you." Before you could respond, he leaned down cupping your face as he kissed you deeply. You didn't expect it, stumbling against the wall a bit. Your back was pressed against the wall as Jaehyun pressed his body against yours, lips never leaving yours as he kissed you over and over again. You and Jaehyun have kissed many times, but nothing like this. When he kissed you before, it was sweet and innocent, but this time it's hot and desperate. You've never seen him act this way,

"Jaehyun wait," you painted softly, pulling away from the kiss. Your words went right through him, lips going right to your neck when you pulled away. You grasped his clothed arms being completely taken back by how fast everything was moving.

"I love you Y/N," he said against your neck. "I love you to the moon and back. Just let me show you how much I love you." Jaehyun locked lips with yours once again, almost knocking the air out of your lungs as his hands slid onto your back, undoing the tie that held your apron on your waist.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you held him close, lips molding with his slowly as he let the fabric drop. Jaehyun's hands moved up your body slowly, cupping your chest through the top of your dress. This sensation was new to you, his touch barely there but you could still feel his fingertips pressing against your nipples. Your hands fell slowly from his shoulders onto his chest, wanting to just take off his jacket, but you were so nervous.

"Don't be nervous, okay," he whispered, taking your hands in his. You hadn't realized it yet, but you were shaking. You opened your eyes only to see him looking at you with the purest expression. "Let me take care of you."

He let go of your hands, placing them on your chest as his fingers toyed with the buttons on the front. You watch him, buttons coming undone one by one in what felt like forever. In this day and age, there are so many layers of clothing before you can see someone's skin. Jaehyun usually becomes irritated with these circumstances, but for some reason they were all the more exciting for him. You on the other hand just wanted to get it over with, anxiety taking over your mind as your thoughts jump from one thing to another.

Jaehyun pulled the sleeves off your shoulders, helping you remove your arms out of the grasp of the fabric. Your dress finally fell from your body. Jaehyun gazed at your figure, you being in nothing but a slip and corset. You were beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman he ever laid his eyes on. "You're so perfect," he sighed, a small smirk on his face.

"Please Jaehyun," you whined quietly. Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, kissing you softly. Jaehyun made quick work of his coat, taking it off and throwing it in the chair next to the fireplace. Next went his waistcoat, lips now moving against yours feverishly. He pulled away for just a second to look at you, but smiled to himself as he watched you fumble with your corset.

"Do you want me to help you with that," he muttered.

You gave him a silent nod as you turned around. Jaehyun skillfully helped you, chuckling to himself. "What's so funny," you asked.

"I just love you so much. That's all," he answered. "I never thought I'd get this close to you."

You smiled to yourself, nodding at his words. "You're so sentimental, it's endearing."

A soft deep chuckle erupted from him, making you shiver. He loosens up the strings and helped you out of the constraining under garment. "I hope I'm still endearing when my cock is inside you." Jaehyun could tell how flustered he made you when he turned you around. You couldn't contain your emotions, palms clinging to your slip as you stared at your feet. "Don't get shy on me now. I want you to watch me. Can you do that?"

You looked up, watching him unbutton his shirt. You have always tried to be the best maid possible, but that never stopped you from having fantasies about him. You always thought about what he would look like under his shirt, or what he would look like on top of you. Now that it's about to happen, there are too many emotions flowing through you at once. One of them was excitement, his chiseled toned body against the dim light of his office, the way he looked at you as he let the shirt off his arms and onto the floor behind him.

"You must really want me don't you?" He took your waist, holding you tight. Jaehyun felt better than he did all day hearing pleasured sighs leave your lips, brows knitting at the feeling of his strong grasp.

"Do you know how pretty you look right now? How pretty you sound when you gasp like that?" Jaehyun began hiking your slip up, watching you gulp, the dress getting shorter and shorter below you. "I will never let anyone take you from me. You're mine, all mine."

"All yours," you whispered, nodding as his fingers trailed from your stomach to right above your soaking wet core. "Please touch me."

Jaehyun obliged, teasing you as his fingers ghosted right above your clit, softly gliding them in the sensitive bud. He watched you, eyes glossed in pleasure as your body twitches, haven't felt this feeling in a while. "So pretty," he whispered, rubbing the bud slowly. "Every part of you."

Soft sweet moans filled his ears as he touched you, gulping as you held onto his arms. Your eyes shut, taking in the pleasure he was giving you.

"Does it feel good?"

"Y-yes," you moaned quietly.

"Look at me my love." Jaehyun's cock jumped in his pants when you did as he asked. You even follow directions perfectly, it's unbelievable. He maintained eye contact with you as he began to rub you faster, evoking whines from your throat. Your nails dug into his skin, not hard enough to scratch it though.

"Jaehyun," you whimpered softly. "M-more, please."

Jaehyun nodded fast, heart growing tender at your cute pleading. He moved from your clit to your wet entrance, fingers rubbing and tracing the hole. Jaehyun slowly pushed his fingers into you, the long thick digits giving you the stretch that you needed. You threw your head back slightly, resting it on the door as you moaned.

"Oh God.." You were already squeezing around his fingers before he started moving them. But you had to hold out, this could be the first and last time you got to do this with him.

"I love you so much," he muttered against your neck as he started pumping his fingers in you slowly. The noises coming from you were astonishing, the slow sounds of your wet cunt bouncing off the walls. Your expression and moans made his cock rock hard, all he wanted to do is make you cum.

You leaned in, kissing him deeply as he moved his fingers in you. "Feels so good," you whispered against his lips. You closed your eyes, lips still ghosting above his as you pant into his mouth.

He sped up his hand, fingers digging deeper into you as he thrusted them fast. The friction of his fingers set your body on fire, hands gripping his arms hard. "You're so beautiful like this, melting into my hands. Do you know how much I've thought about this moment?"

You could barely hear him though he was right in front of you, brain not being able to concentrate due to the feeling between your legs. Your soft whines and moans filled the air, quiet cries of his name falling from your lips. Jaehyun pressed you against the door even more using his other hand to lift your leg to thrust his fingers deeper in you.

"Oh my god," you whimpered, clinging to his body.

"I know, darling. I know it feels good," he cooed in your ear. "I want you to make a mess of my fingers."

You were now grinding on his hand, clit lightly brushing against his palm driving you to your orgasm with every movement of your hips. Your whines were getting louder in pitch, but you tried to hide it, being right behind the door. Anyone could walk past and hear you, and you really didn't want that to happen, but Jaehyun didn't care anymore. He didn't care about anything but you at the moment.

"Lose yourself. It's just me and you and no one else. Cum in my hand." His deep raspy voice guided you to your first orgasm in a while, squeezing around his fingers tight as you moaned into his neck.

"J-jaehyun," you whimpered. He kept pumping his fingers in you as you came, making the leg you were balancing yourself on shake. Growing impatient, Jaehyun stopped fingering you, slowing down his fingers and pulling them out of you slowly.

"I need to be inside you, Y/N. Do you want that," he questioned, resting his forehead on yours.

"Yes. Yes, I need you," you said breathlessly. You kissed him, cupping his face as he kissed you back. The two of you quickly fell into a rhythm, tongues dancing with each other as he undid his pants, fingers skillfully undoing the buttons.

"Let's get this off of you, hm?" Jaehyun lifted your slip, motioning his head for you to put your arms up. You obliged, easing them above your head allowing him to take the undergarment off of you. You kicked off your shoes right after making him smile to himself. Jaehyun couldn't keep his eyes off your body. He dropped the fabric to the floor, hands attaching to your body like a magnet. You let out soft gasps at every touch, squeeze, pinch he gave you, his hands all over you for the first time. Your skin was so soft, every scratch or scar lighting a flame in him. Even your imperfections were beautiful.

"You feel so good in my hands," he muttered, making you smile to yourself.

"I like the way your hands feel on me," you say, kissing him softly. You let out a small sigh as he moved his hands from your ass to your chest, watching as he leans down, mouth attaching to your nipple. Licking and sucking your nipples all while squeezing the flesh in his plans, maintaining eye contact with you as he plays out the sinful actions you dreamt of.

"God I can't wait any longer," he mumbled. Jaehyun kissed up your chest to your neck and jawline, finally making it to your lips, biting your bottom lip softly. "I need you to take all of me, but you have to be quiet."

He placed one hand on the bottom of your back and used the other to lift your leg. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply as he took his cock, rubbing the tip between your legs slowly.

"I can be quiet," you muttered in his mouth. "Quiet as a mouse."

"That's my girl." Jaehyun lined himself with you, slowly pushing himself in your wet entrance. A soft sigh fell through his lips, the warmth of your wrapped around him. He wanted this for so long to feel close to you, to be this close to you.

"My god," you whined, fingers running through his hair. You let out soft moans every time he thrusted in you, deep and slow. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head back against the door taking in the pleasure he was going to you. But Jaehyun kept his eyes open, staring at your pretty face, listening to your pretty moans as he rocked his body into you. His grip on his leg gets tighter the deeper he thrust into you, fingertips digging into your skin.

Jaehyun wouldn't be surprised if there were people running around looking for him right about now. He's been in this room with you for almost an hour, leaving his new wife to look for you. Not even he himself would've guessed he'd be deep inside you right now, fucking you on the door where anyone could come buy and easily tell what was happening behind it. He'd always been reckless, but at this rate he didn't care. Everyone in the world was trying to keep you away from him, and he had enough. If you had to crash and burn for loving him, you were going to take him with you whether you wanted to or not.

Jaehyun's face was now in the crook of your neck, groaning softly against your skin as he kissed it softly. "You're so beautiful," he mumbled. "So perfect, I love you so much."

"I-I love you," you whimpered softly, brows furrowing feeling him thrust harder. "Oh my god, don't stop."

And he didn't. He kept going, hand leaving your back and moving to your hip. You haven't felt this good in ages, almost completely forgetting about the kind of situation you were in, until there was a knock on the door.

"Prince Jaehyun? Are you in there," a guard called out. More voices were heard from outside the door, footsteps all over the hallway.

Jaehyun halted his movement for a second, glancing at you who was making a panicked expression. "Quiet," he mouthed. Jaehyun started thrusting in you, staring at you intensely. He was lost in the sight of you, your head falling back, jaw dropping in pleasure once again. You felt so fragile at the moment, so vulnerable under him.

"You're doing so well for me, beautiful," he whispered.

"Am I," you whispered with a small smile.

Jaehyun nodded as he kissed you. You immediately moaned into his mouth, making him go faster. At this point you were far too gone, you were going to cum all over him once again. "I'm so close, my prince," you moaned breathlessly.

My prince. Those words sounded so good coming from you. So pure, innocent, loving. He would love to be yours forever. "Me too Y/N."

He kept going, ignoring the knock on the door once again. He just wanted to make you feel good. Jaehyun swallowed hard, face back in the crook of your neck feeling you flutter around him.

"Jaehyun, I'm cumming," you whimpered, trying to keep your voice as low as possible. You came on him, orgasm so hard you saw stars as you screwed your eyes shut.

But Jaehyun kept going, his orgasm getting closer and closer. He should pull out of you. He should really pull out. But self control is not his strong suit. The both of you are so wrapped up in the amazing feeling that when Jaehyun cums inside of you, you didn't even feel it. All lines become blurry, nothing makes sense, the room is just hot and stuffy filled with the smell of sex.

That's when it hits you.

"Jaehyun, what did you just do?"