#I got used to it but it was still hard to listen to

[elssero]

overheard.

k.bakugo

-in which bakugo overhears you talking about him with the girls... super whipped bakugo. cute confessions.

he knows he shouldn’t have followed him.

when sero dared him and denki to listen in on your conversations during girls night he knew it was wrong.

he knew it was wrong when he got up to follow his friend, he knew it was wrong on the walk to the room and he knows that it’s wrong now- while his ear is pressed against the door.

he doesn’t know why he followed denki- all he knows is that he’s now found himself pressed up against the wall- breathing silently as to not alert any of you of their position.

he can hear the conversation surprisingly clearly- it’s something stupid about your celebrity crushes- he wasn’t aware that girls were so.. vulgur?

“wait okay i’ve got a good one-“ it’s mina he hears- her loud voice clear as day as she begins her question- “if you had to go on a date with one of the guys in our class- who would it be?”

gasps burst throughout the room at the end of her question- giggles coming from a few of you-

he feels denki nudge his side- when he looks to the left he sees a knowing look in the boy eyes.

it’s not a secret as to who’s answer he wants to hear- it’s yours. it just so happens that almost every single one of his friends had somehow figured out about his little crush on you- everyone but you at least.

“okay okay- i’ll go first-” he doesn’t make care for minas answer, she says something about kirishima before admitting she could never actually date him- they’re too close for that. so she settles on todoroki.

gasps of surprise seem to come from the girls after that answer- “it’s not an actual crush!- he’s just handsome!”

it’s hagakure who goes next- she makes a small comment about todoroki that mina quickly agrees with before making the final decision on ojiro-

uraraka refuses to answer- teasing questions are asked about izuku- or iida? bakugo is forced to hold in a scoff.

“cmon yn! you gottta tell us!” the mention of your name brings bakugo back to focus, ears perking up as to not miss your answer.

“okay- you guys have to promise not to judge.” the excited squeals of the girls are followed with an array of promises not to judge you-

“well if i had too- it would probably be bakugo.”

his heart is beating faster than it ever has before- you just said his name. his name. out of everyone in your class you’d want him.

oh. oh.

the laughs from the girls are completely tuned out as bakugo begins to take in what you’d said. squeals of excitement are quickly turned into a bombarding of questions.

“but- why? he’s such a dick?” laughs are heard from jirou as she questions you- bakugo is too infested in your answer to take note of the insult.

“well- i guess that’s kinda what i like about him?” confused murmurs are heard from the girls surrounding you- urging you to continue.

“yes he’s loud- and obnoxious- but i guess i can’t help but find that- almost charming?”

words of disagreement leave your friends mouths.

it’s only when denki taps his shoulder when he realises his friend is still stood next to him- his jaw is dropped as he looks at the blonde. it takes him a second before he realises he feels the heat in his face- a clear blush across his features.

bakugo turns away in an instant- making his way back to the kirishimas room where they had been previously hanging out.

he slams the door behind him and denki hard- immediately pressing his back against the door letting his head fall back as he gains his breathe.

“so? what did you guys hear?” he can’t even answer sero when he asks- far too busy thinking about what you had said-

“oh- just that if yn had to go out on a date with anyone in the class, it would be our bakugo-” he could slap denki right now- if he wasn’t so starstruck.

kirishima jumps up immediately- wrapping an arm around his friends shoulders. “bakugo- man this is great! you totally have a shot!”

he wants to answer- tell his friends to shut up- but his throat feels dry and the words won’t come out, still attempting to get ahold on his breathing he shoves kirishima away from him.

“i- i fuck i don’t know how to do this shit.”

“don’t worry about it man- we’ll wingman you-” kirishima’s words of encouragement are swiftly cut off by a knock at the door. despite not knowing who it is- a pit forms in bakugos stomach.

slowly and silently bakugo moves away from the door to allow his red haired friend to greet whoever is on the other side.

“hey- is bakugo in here? i need to talk to him.” he hears your voice from his spot behind the door as he sinks into the corner, his heart rate begins to sore once again.

“yeah he’s here!” the grip on his shirt is strong as it pulls him out of his hiding spot- now finding himself face to face with you as you eye him suspiciously.

you don’t say anything as you turn away- he watches you walk without moving, feet glued to the floor. kirishima pushes him out the door whispering a quick good luck.

he follows you down the hall- you take a look around you before taking a left, seemingly looking for an empty space.

his heart is beating out of his chest so fast he’s afraid you might hear it, he watches you walking in front of him in complete silence, it feels like torture.

you stop at the end hall and before turning around to look behind him- your making sure your alone before you finally turn to look at him again.

you stare at him expectingly and he feels his stress levels rise- he needs to know what you want from him and now.

“we heard you.” his previously ferociously beating heart feels as though it’s stopped- falling flat into his stomach.

“w-what’re you talking about?” if the stutter in his usually brash voice isn’t enough- you know that bakugo isn’t an idiot, and you know that he’s aware exactly what your talking about-

“earlier- you were eavesdropping on us.” the temperature in the hall feels as through its increasingly rising- he feels the tips of his ears getting warmer the longer you look at him for.

“i-ive got no idea what your talking about.” you take a step closer to him now- he has to stop himself from scurrying away.

“so it wasn’t you outside mina’s form earlier?” a lump forms in bakugos throat- he feels pathetic, how can he manage to be so strong but completely crumble when it came to you?

“we did some eavesdropping of our own.” bakugo watches as the look in our eye changes- casting a teasing look as you continue.

“what exactly was it that you and your friends were just talking about?”

he wants to answer you- he truly does. he feels the weight of the feelings he’s had for you since last year, he wants needs to tell you.

he remembers all the stolen glances he gives you, how sometimes he would catch your eye and it would plague his thoughts for days after.

the things he wishes he could do with you come to mind, the list of spots he’s found that he’s certain you’d love- that he’d love to show you.

he thinks about how he wants to be there for you, to be the person you reach for, your safe space.

he wants to tell you.

“you- we were talking about you” he blurts it out before he can think about it properly, your eyes widen slightly, clearly taken aback.

“it’s always you.” he takes a deep breath before he continues, deciding not to rush himself.

“your the first thing i think of when i wake up- and the last thing i think of before i fall asleep. i- fuck- i think about you all the time.” he holds your stare as he continues- hoping- praying you can reciprocate his feelings.

“i can’t get you out of my head and- i’ve never felt like this before-“ taking long breath- the tension in this stupid hallway seems to only be growing before he closes his eyes.

“i like you- alot.”

silence follows his confession- bakugos eyes still glued shut as his breathes deepen, hands slightly shaking as they rest by his sides.

he opens his eyes slowly- half expecting you to have walked away before he catches the first glimpse of your face. that stupid smile plastered on it.

he takes you in- his eyes now fully open as you looks in you in a daze, you finally begin to speak.

“i know.” it’s almost a whisper when you say it- the weight of your words not fully settled in before his initial confused disappears- he can’t help the way that the tone of your voice makes him feel instantly comfortable.

“i like you too.”

[yandere-daydreams]

Hear me out hear me out on this concept idea

Southern gothic small town pastor Geto AU

tw - non/con, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, financial abuse via organized religion, and implied kidnapping.

wait that would actually be so hot of him actually.

i don't know what is about geto but he just,,, radiates scummy religious figure energy to such an atrocious degree. like, couldn't you just imagine him moving from small town to small town, posing as a country-values pastor to scam his ever-growing congregation out of their life's savings and retirement funds before smuggling himself away and moving on to fresher meat? if he works quickly, the whole operation takes a little less than six months, and he's got such a charming smile and such a soothing voice - no one's ever so much as thought twice about trusting him, not really, not unless they wanted to be the next town outcast.

well, no one aside from you, of course.

it's cute - just how suspicious you are of the man who has your chronically truant parents sitting in the front row of his chapel twenty minutes early. you'll tell anyone who's got the time to listen that you don't like his hollow expressions, that you don't find his sermon-topics appropriate, that you don't trust how quickly he showed up after your last pastor suddenly went missing. no one listens to you, of course. you burnt that bridge when you decided to move away to some big, new-age city and attend some expensive, self-aggrandizing university. like him, you'll only be in town for a few months, just until the start of your next semester, but unlike him, you actually care about what's going to happen to your neighbors after you leave. the fact that you stopped going to church entirely after he took over doesn't help. in a town like this, you might as well be signing the warrant for your own social exile.

you make an effort to keep your distance, but he just can't seem to pay you the same courtesy. in a town like yours, it's can be hard not to run into familiar faces, especially when he seems to stop in at the general store where you picked up a summer job every other day, when he mentions to your mother that they could really use an extra pair of hands at the church's monthly bake sale or tells your father that he might want to bring a helper the next time he comes to fix up a few things around the sanctuary. you're always so flustered around him, always so brooding - like you think someone's going to believe you just because you cross your arms and pout. he savors any chance he gets to touch you - whether it's his hand ghosting over the small of your back as he moves past you in a narrow hall or your body pressing into his after he forgoes your offered handshake in favor of a nice, tight, neighborly hug.

and, when you come to him, he thinks he might finally know why people try so hard to get into heaven. it goes without saying that you're irate, shouting at him from the steps of his parsonage as you demand he return the tens of thousands of dollars that your mother so generously donated early that day, but it's not hard to convince you to come inside, to get a glass of wine into your hand under the pretense that, if you really drove all this way just to yell at him, it's the least you deserve. things devolve from there - your glass looks a little empty, why doesn't he top you off while you tell him what a terrible person he is? you've already finished that bottle, but he's got a gorgeous vintage red, and you're just starting to slur - he's sure it'll be fine. and, oh, well, you're far too drunk to drive yourself home, but don't worry, his bed's big enough to share. and oh, look at that, don't you feel lucky to wake up naked and sore in an unfamiliar bed, the handsome young pastor's cock still buried inside of you? he's sure your parents will be elated when you two tell them about your new engagement (because, of course, you can't just sleep with your local pastor and expect to come out of it without a ring on your finger, can you?), even if you seem a little upset right now.

it's only as he watches you sob into his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist and his cum still dripping out of you, that he decides he might be able to stay in this particular small town for a few more months. just long enough to find a way to take you with him, when he leaves.

[gilverrwrites]

A kiss for the caged bird

Tim Drake/Reader, 5K

AN: Please don't think too hard into any of the science-y crap I wrote, I was pulling it all out of my butt. Anyway, this was supposed to be a quick 500-1000 thing to clear up my writer’s block and here we are. Bon appetit my loves, I hope you enjoy ♥︎ Warnings: Dub-con (purely by the nature of sex pollen) | voyeurism | swearing | dirty talk | mean-ish Tim | minor slut-shaming ♥︎

His normally tender blue eyes are completely saturated with a dense shade of green. From the whites, to his pupils, they almost seem to be glowing. They've also been watching you like a hawk with a heated intensity that puts your hairs on edge from behind the glass of his cell since you’d entered the cave.

“It's just a shame the one person who could probably crack this in no time is the one person who can't help us right now.” Dick laments as he adjusts his bootstraps. “But I have complete faith that Oracle has got this.”

“Me too.” You agree as you stare at the projected screen, all of Barbara’s research thus far. Most of it made little sense to you but it all seemed technical enough, like she was on the right track.

“Right, so she's gonna keep working on that, Spoiler and Orphan are following the Narrows lead while Red Hood and I check out the Reservoir.” The words breeze through your head, you know you should be paying more attention but you're only half listening. Tim has taken his shirt off and is leaning against the cell door. His toned body gleaning under a layer of perspiration, as his venomous green eyes stay locked onto your frame, in all of its dragged-out-of-bed-at-2 AM-after-a-looonnnnngggggg-day-patrol glory. Seemingly noticing your distraction, Nightwing steps into your line of sight as he continues to relay the plan. “You just have to make sure he doesn't hurt himself or do anything stupid until we figure this out.”

“I know, I got it.” Dick doesn’t seem convinced, frowning as his eyes dart between you and Tim. Ignoring his doubts, you settle into the chair at the centre of the console, clicking away until you pull up the live feed from inside Tims's 6x8 prison. You can understand Dicks caution, the undeniable chemistry you and Tim shared had been evident to everyone for a long time, impeached only by your mutual reluctance to date on the job. If Bruce were here, he’d never allow for this, but Dick is doing the best he can with the resources available. Regardless, all doubts aside, you won’t allow your feelings to cause problems, not when lives hang in the balance. “Just go.”

“You’re sure?” He tries to place a reassuring arm on your shoulder but you both jump at the sudden sound of Tim’s fist needlessly hitting the wall. He’d need superstrength to break out of that thing, you're not concerned. Maybe a little more roused by the lack of restraint than you’d like to admit, but no less confident in your ability to babysit than you had been moments ago.

“Certain.” You wave off Dick when he turns back to you, lips still pursed. “Go. Who knows what that crap is doing to him, the sooner you find Ivy, the better.”

He knows it, probably better than you do.

“Buzz if you need anything.” At once you're relieved by his departure, and concerned for his safety, for everyone’s safety.

“Be safe.” You bid, watching as he straddles the Wingcycle.

“Be safe.” He echoes and without another word he's gone, leaving you alone to care for your caged Red Robin.

For a long time, you stare at the empty space Dick left behind, all too aware of Tim and the way his hot-blooded stare makes your skin burn but eventually you have to face him. Can’t monitor him without looking at him after all.

In an attempt to ease the mood, you offer him a smile. Apparently, it does nothing to reassure him or ease his tensions. He simply continues to glower at you. When that doesn’t work you play up your preceding frown, playfully pouting the way you would when you’re teasing his mid-mission stresses, but that fails too. Finally, you curve your left hand in a half heart shape, a common greeting between the two of you from rooftop to rooftop and for a moment you think it might work. He pulls the hand he has pressed to the glass back for a moment, but all he does is clench his fingers back and forth a few times before letting it fall to his side.

At a loss you spin around to the computer, tapping your fingertips on the desk as you consider Barbara’s research once more. The chances of becoming a forensic palynologist within a few hours with nothing but google and whatever research Bruce has backed up in the archives is slim, but it saves twiddling your thumbs, so you start by looking up any chemicals identified by the forensic scanner that you’re not familiar with.

It’s hard to sit still, knowing your every move is being scrutinised but by far the worst part is the silence. Tim and you are muted to each other unless you’re pressing the comms link located on the keypad by the cell door. The only sounds you can make out are the far away screeches of real-life bats located further into the cavern, and the drip, drip, dripping of the wet walls. It’s downright eerie when you’re practically alone, so when Oracle buzzes in about an hour later you jump to answer it, eager to hear another human, and anxious to find out if she has any updates.

“How’s he holding up?” She asks, and you’re glad she can’t see your worried expression. Tim hasn’t moved since Dick left. Except for when you’d crossed the bullpen to look for a fresh pen after the one you’d been using ran out of ink. You exclude that last part from your update, however.

“Okay, just tell him to hang tight, I'm getting closer.” You can tell she’s trying to sound more hopeful than she actually is, and your suspicions are confirmed when she begins to ramble about her findings. She often uses the team as a sounding board when she’s trying to wrap her head around something. “The pollen he inhaled is decreasing his plasma levels and increasing his testosterone.”

“If he’d touched the plant like she’d wanted him too it would re-level those hormones, presumably she was relying on him needing that to keep him under her control.”

“Right.” You’ll pat yourself on the back for impressing her at a more appropriate time. “And if that were it, we could just pump a bunch of oxytocins into him and voilà! But something else is messing with his nociceptors. Not to mention this stuff is packed with things I’ve never even heard of. Have you heard of horny goat weed?”

“Yeah, epi-me-di-um.” You sound the word out from your notes. “Only since tonight.”

“Where do people get these names from?” Babs groans, you can hear her tapping away at her keyboard. “I’m close though, I know it.”

“I believe in you.” She ‘awhs’ at your encouragement.

“Until I’ve got this, there is one thing he can try.” She trails off at the end. Her hesitation strikes you as odd. Surely whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. “If he’s really suffering… ejaculating might help ease any pain if only temporarily. Masturbatory only, obviously, this stuff can and will spread like hot gossip at one of Bruce’s galas.”

“Ah, okay.” You understand her aversion now, looking over at Tim as you consider how you’re going to tell him that. “I will pass the information along.”

The line goes quiet, Babs clearly sensing your discomfort, but however you’re feeling, Tim is likely feeling one thousand times worse.

Habitually, you tell each other good luck and be safe before hanging up, promising to get back to each other ASAP should anything change.

As you pass by the glass of his cubicle to reach the control panel on the other side Tim follows, falling into stride with you like a mirror image. When you stop, he stops, pressing his forearm to the glass and leaning his weight against it as he awaits your next move. Tilting closer when your fingers graze the comms button. Up close you can see that actually his irises are still blue, they’re just almost non-existent, drowned out by his green sclera’s and the sheer size of his impossibly blown-out pupils. 

Bzzt. The mic crackles as you activate it.

“Hi.” You test the waters, but when he doesn’t respond you press on. “Are you in pain?”

He silently gazes at you for so long that you start to think he’s never going to answer you. Dumbly, you tap your finger on the plane to try and coax him out of his head, instantly feeling bad as you remember all those signs in zoos ‘PLEASE DON’T TAP THE GLASS, IT MAY CAUSE STRESS OR HARM TO THE ANIMALS’.

Tim must feel the same, like a caged beast, because the seething in his response startles you. 

“No.” He taunts mockingly, mouth still twisted into a tight snarl. “I feel fantastic.”

At least his sharp humour is unaffected.

“Oracle said… that…” You can’t help allowing your eyes to trail down his body, shamelessly locking onto the subject matter, due to the distance and the darkness of his tights you’d hadn’t noticed until now that he’s rock hard, the length of his erection straining against the close-fitting fabric. Your face burns at the realisation, at your obliviousness. Of course he was, that’s what aphrodisiacs do. But mostly you're ashamed of how much you enjoy looking at it.  

“Wh-” Tim's voice makes you jump. Embarrassed, you inadvertently take your hand off the switch. An uninfected Tim would have rolled his eyes at that, would have laughed at you good-naturedly, but this Tim just tilts his head like he’s cracking his neck, eye still on you. It’s like he physically can’t look at anything else, can’t stop drinking in every inch and crevice of you, cuts and moles and all. When you push down the button again, he repeats himself impatiently. Bzzt. “What did Oracle say?”

You take a deep breath, staring at the wall behind his head to help you concentrate, determined to get the words out no matter how awkward you feel saying it. “She said that masturbating, specifically ejaculating, won’t fix things, but it should… alleviate some of your discomfort, for a while.”

It’s his turn to drum his fingers on the glass, jaw growing tight as he seems to mull on what you’ve just told him. You chance a glance back down to his crotch just long enough to see him palm his hard-on through his pants. You’re unable to keep from imagining what he looks like down there or how he might go about pleasuring himself. Feeling bad for having such depraved thoughts about him while he’s suffering and vulnerable, you remind yourself not to gawk at him.

“No, I’m not doing that.” He states sternly.

“It might help.” Your objection comes purely from a place of concern.

“What would help me is if you’d fuck off.” His response is like a slap in the face, hitting you out of nowhere. You’re only trying to help, had your wondering eyes really prompted this level of ire?

“Wh- “

“It’s bad enough that I can’t control my body and that I’m stuck in here unable to do anything worth doing, but I have to watch you fucking slutting around in those f-.” Shocked by his sudden outburst, you instinctively pull your hand back. You know he’s just trying to let off his frustrations, but it still stings a little. Feeling bad for silencing his partly warranted rant, you tune back in, unable to keep yourself from flinching and jumpily flailing your hands around every time he gets under your skin. Bzzt. “Should be making an antidote or tracking down Ivy but instead all I can think about is bending you over that-”

Bzzt. “-out there trying to help me and I wanted to punch him for touching you like some macho i-” For the first time since you’d started supervising him, Tim finally looks away from you. Throwing his head back and tugging on his own hair as he tries to compose himself. It doesn’t work. You hadn’t thought it possible but when he finally comes back to you, his face is flooded with even more ferocity, like he wants to eat you alive. Bzzt.“-elp me, if you want to help me then fuck me yourself or get out of my sight!”

There's no way you’ll let him get away with talking to you like this, but now is not the time. Swallowing your pride and clenching your fists, you leave him be, hurrying back to the desk, cursing him under your breath as you pull your feet up into the chair and turn your back to him in order to try and make yourself as small as possible. You hate to admit it, but if it weren’t for the risk of infection, his parting words might have worked. Fuck. The thought of opening that door and letting him bend you over whatever he’d had in mind makes your blood rush. 

To distract from the thought of Tim’s cock being buried tight in your walls, or how hot he’d look, panting and red faced beneath you as you fucked yourself on his length, you return to your research, glancing at the live feed to Tim’s cell every few minutes purely to confirm that he’s still alive. 

You consider changing into something more conservative, this might be the one and only time you could consider slut-shaming somewhat okay, but to do that he'll be forced to look at you, so ultimately you elect not to.

Filthy thoughts continue to plague your imagination as you try to work, and the knowledge that Tim is thinking them too, only makes it worse. You’re so tired and tense and horny that after a while it becomes difficult to focus. You’re pressing your palms into your eyes when you hear a ping; A message from Spoiler to say that The Narrows was a bust, they’re moving on to another location. Another ping from Red Hood reporting a similar issue with their own intel. One more from Oracle to say that she’s pinpointed 90% of the formula and should be able to start reverse engineering soon. 

You chime in to state that Tim is holding up. The computer pings once more, a private message from Oracle asking if it helped. You’re part way through typing that he refused when you glance at the video feed, Tim still has his back to the camera, his body pointed toward you the same way he had been all night. You freeze as you notice his bare ass.

His hose are around his knees, back bent in a hunched position, one arm jerking rapidly to and throw as he presumably strokes his cock. Without thinking you turn to face him, and he brazenly stares back at you. Once your suspicions are confirmed, you rapidly swing back. 

He’s working on it. You amend. Unsure what to do from there you needlessly stare at the jagged ceiling, restlessly pulling at your fingers as you try to calm and distract yourself from the fact that Tim is currently playing with himself, and using whatever 2-inches of your skin he can see to fuel his fire. Brain and libido at odds, you force yourself not to look at the spectacle he’s putting on.

He’ll be mortified when he’s cured, don’t make it worse, you think. Yet ultimately you crack, too intrigued not to sneak another peek and once you give in to the temptation it becomes impossible to stop.

You could watch him like that all day. Watch the fierce look of concentration on his face, the bulge in his cheek where he’s biting his tongue. Watch the pink crown of his cock, and the way his balls tighten with each brutal thrust of his fist. Watch the way every lean muscle in his body tenses and twitches as waves of pleasure roll though his body. The way his green veins grow more pronounced as he chases his climax? Wait. That can’t be good. 

Had they been green this whole time and you just hadn’t noticed? You've only seen one thing like this before. Venom. Could that be the missing 10%?

As though you hadn’t just been ogling him, you cover your eyes as you approach. This time he doesn’t follow you, legs firmly planted on the ground, but when you glimpse through the cracks in your fingers his head is turned to watch you still and you hastily snap your digits closed again before you speak to him.

Bzzt. “Tim, your veins are turning green.”

At the sound of your voice his knees buckle, your hand falls away to watch as his weakened muscles cause him to fall forward. His weight rests precariously against the glass as he hangs between standing and kneeling.

“Tim. Y- “

“I know.” The aggressiveness in which he snaps at you makes your skin run cold, but he follows it with the most pained, puppy dog eyes that you immediately forgive him. As if you have ever been able to hold anything against him for a substantial period of time.

“It hurts.” His teeth are gritted as he explains. “Hurts when I stop.”

You’ve no idea what to say. You wonder if there’s a painkiller on earth that could help him right now but he speaks again before you can suggest it.

“Help me.” He sounds so solemn, despite the fact that he hasn’t once stopped stroking his dick, closely staring at every curve of your body.

“We’re trying.” Your words barely seem to register with him. “It won’t be much longer.”

“No. Help me.” The repeated instruction does nothing to clarify what else he could mean until he continues. “Your voice sounds so sexy, fuck. Talk to me.”

Oh. “And say what?”

“God, fuck. Do I have to spell it out for you? Anything!” He barks, simultaneously carnal and irritable. Each word out of his mouth is more breathless and desperate than the last.  “Fucking anything. Tell me you want me, that you want me to fuck you. Come on, please do this for me.”

“Okay, okay.” You can do this. “I do want you. I want to fuck- I want you to fuck me so bad, Tim.”

Despite it being true, you feel lame, clumsily parroting him, but Tims full bodied reaction spurs you on. He takes the final plunge, dropping onto his knees, leaning back on his haunches and practically presenting his engorged shaft to you. From here you can see how his skin is tinted several shades of pink and red. His blush seems to stem from his chest, running along his neck and shoulders, highlighting his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. You’ve never seen a prettier sight. It’s so enchanting, it almost diverts from his unnerving blood vessels.

“You’re so beautiful.” You purr, finding more confidence with every quiet huff and moan that spills from his lips. “I wish I could do this for you. I want to make you feel so good, I’d let you fuck me anywhere.”

He nods rapidly at you, encouraging you to continue while bucking his hips forward.

“I know your cock would fit just right in my mouth and feel so good, would make me gag until you came down my throat.” You open your mouth and stick your tongue out to show him, feeling silly until he replies.

“Fuck. Yeah. You’d look good sucking on my cock.”

“Yeah!” You agree, just the sight of him is enough to make your heartbeat race. But the thought of taking him in your mouth, slobbering all over his cock and watching him enjoy every second of it makes you rub your thighs together. You want so badly to get yourself off too but the little voice of conscience in the back of your brain is telling you not to, that it would be taking advantage. “Or you could bend me over, rip off my clothes and fuck me. I’d love to feel you pounding into my tight pussy.”

“Oh, pleasepleaseplease.” The words are slurred as he sinks his teeth hard into his tongue.

“You don’t have to beg, Timmy.” He hangs on your every word as you vocalise the thoughts and fantasies you’ve only ever indulge in when you’re alone at night. “You can have whatever you want. Fuck me however you want, you can fill me up over and over. We’ll make sure everyone knows who my pussy belongs to. Would you like that?”

“Yes.” The confirmation is instant, no-nonsense. Followed by him closing his eyes and slamming his spare hand against the window to steady himself. 

“Mine…” When he opens his eyes again, they unsurprisingly immediately lock onto you once more, zeroing in on your throbbing centre as he tells you. “Let me see it.”

“What?” The saliva in your mouth turns dry in an instant. Despite Tim baring all to you the thought of getting your whole pussy out in the Batcave scares you. In a strangely invigorating way.

“Need to cum and I fucking can’t.” Tim explains weakly, punching the wall again, this time with less vigour. “Show me your cunt.”

The c-word sounds so strange on Tims lips, so filthy. He’s frantic. You’re no closer to understanding how to cure him, and apparently your presence has only made things worse but maybe this is how you help him.

Hurriedly, you scurry over to the Batcomputer, Tim asserting his discontent by hammering his open palm on the wall repeatedly until you return moments later with the desk chair.

You waste little time shimmying out of your sleep shorts before you lose your bravado. Falling back into the chair, you adjust the height until your now exposed pussy is level with Tims eyeline. His demeanour changes in an instant, lips morphing into the first semblance of a smile he’d given you all night as he shifts closer.

Emboldened by his enthusiasm you spread your legs wide, resting your feet on the glass and using your fingers to spread apart your folds for him to get a real look. You’re not sure how he’ll feel about the shameful amount of moisture you’ve produced later, but for now his mouth very visibly waters. You don’t think he’s blinked since you sat down.

Uncurbed, you brush your finger over your sensitive clit, toes curling in response. You’d love to say you did it to put on a show for Tim, to help him find relief but in actuality it’s entirely self-serving. Unable to resist touching yourself at the sight of him on his knees for you, mercilessly fisting his cock in frenzied, rhymeless strokes. Regardless of your motivation, Tim seems to appreciate it.

Strands of his dark hair fall into his face as he leans forward, partly hiding his glassy eyes and reddened cheeks, but he quickly whips them back once more ensuring he maintains an uninhibited view of your fingers as they rapidly paw at your sex. Angling yourself so that Tim can see every minute detail, every roll of your hips as you lower your hand and sink two fingers into yourself. All the while you keep massaging your sensitive bud, Tim’s name a prayer on your lips as you watch him, watching you, fevered and hungry. 

It comes as a surprise when your orgasm hits first, walls convulsing and spasming as you objectify yourself for Tim, acting like his personal pornstar. It’s a shame he can’t hear the wetness of your hole or the strangled, lewd gasps and moans that escape your throat as your body trembles from the intensity of your climax.

The slick of your release leaks from your sex, trickling between your legs, down the chair, and onto the metal floor. Like a man starved, Tim slams his face into the glass, finally closing his eyes and lapping at the pane with a flattened tongue.

Whatever vision he’s conjuring works, his lids twitch, eyes darting open to watch your panting frame. He looks sacrilegious, full body blushed and sweating. His face softens, mouth slack and drooling as rope after rope of cum spills from his reddened tip and hits the pane.

You’re only able to enjoy the sight of him coming apart for a moment before you notice that the viscous fluid is unsettlingly coloured. Not milky white as it should be, but a strange, luminous green colour.

Tim slumps downward once he’s spent, and you watch the rapid rise and fall of his chest while he comes down from his high. Your heart aching as you wonder whether his pain has been even slightly alleviated. The fact that the swelling of his veins seems to have subsided bodes well. Eventually he comes too, enough to also notice the puddle of green excrement between his legs and it’s your turn to all but lunch yourself at him. You shout falls on deaf ears until your kick’s echoes into his cell. His hand freezes and he watches, still hunched as you stumble to the control panel on unsteady legs.

“Don’t touch it.” Tim nods sheepishly in agreement. It probably won’t hurt him, having come from inside him, but better safe than sorry. “I’m gonna grab you some gloves and slides to take samples with.”

Before he can concur, you’re gone, inelegantly hiking your bottoms back on as you go. You feel bad, jumping straight back into business without so much of a ‘how was that for you?’ but these are strange circumstances, and whatever freaky substance he just shot out of his balls might be the missing puzzle piece in treating him.

Eventually, once you’d collected everything you’ll need and updated the Team, you do ask, holding the mic down with your elbow as you pull on a pair of rubber gloves, waiting to take the samples from him. “How do you feel?”

“Hot, and sore.” He tells you. He’s pulled his trousers back up, but you can still see the outline of his half-hard penis. “It’s still in me, I can feel it, but it doesn’t hurt as much. I can think. Which is something.”

“I’m glad it helped. Hopefully we’ll get you back to normal before it gets bad again.” He offers you a smile then. A genuine, none-hedonic one that makes you feel fuzzy. You’ve missed that smile.

“Yeah, hopefully.” He places the slides, tools, and used gloves in the containment slot and closes his side of the two-way mechanism. You offer him a half heart which he returns before you start sorting and bagging everything.

You’re about to turn your back when he taps gently on the glass, gesturing for you to open the comms line again and you oblige with your elbow once more.

“Listen, I’m really sorry for being an ass earlier. You didn’t deserve what I said to you.”

You can tell he’s stressing about it from the gloomy look in his blue-green eyes and the way he tugs at his waistband. Normally he fidgets with his gloves or his collar, but needs must an’ all. You’d give anything to be able to hug him right now.

“Don’t worry, I know you didn’t really mean it.” Admittedly it had shaken you, for all of five minutes, but you’ve never been able to stay mad at Tim, even at his worst, and you’ve seen him do far worse. “You weren’t really mad at me, right? Just the situation?”

“Yeah. Mostly myself but that doesn’t make it okay.” He’s still fiddling, still looking at you mournfully. It means a lot that it bothers him so much, but you need that to stop. You need him to be normal for like half an hour so you can get some work done without worrying. And you need to get the work done so you can make up for your own misdeeds.

“No really, it’s fine I don’t care.” You stress, hoping if you chide him a little it will absolve him of his guilt. “Just don’t do it again.”

“I’ll try not to.” He promises. You can tell by the way he works his jaw back and forth that he’s working up to say something else, something that has his ears and cheeks turning pink. That or the absolved symptoms are coming back already. “And thank you. For the other stuff.”

“Oh good, I was worried you might regret that part.” You hadn’t realised how badly you needed to hear him say that until it happened. It’d kill you and whatever situationship you have going on if he’d considered your actions exploitative.

“No! Not at all. I mean, I always kind of hoped that one day we might end up…” He vaguely gestures into the air which doesn’t help his point, but you understand what he’s getting at and nod, urging him to continue. “You know? But I never would have imagined it happening like this.”

“I know what you mean. I always figured something might…” You’re floundering. This is not the time or place for this conversation, you’re completely unprepared and as badly as this conversation needs to be had, you really don’t have time. “I mean, I wouldn’t wish what’s happening on anyone, but if it had to happen, I’m glad it was you. Because you’re the only person I would have done that for.”  

You can’t imagine having done that for Dick, or Barbara, or God forbid Bruce. Just thinking about it makes your stomach churn.

“Good.” He seems more relieved now than he had when he’d cum. “I’d hate it if you’d done that with anyone else.”

If this were a movie or an action-romance novel, this is the part where you’d kiss, you think. But it’s not, and every second the two of you spend stammering about your feelings and making go-go eyes at each other is a second that could be spent on finding an antidote.

“We’ll talk, later.” You promise.

“I’d like that.” Tim replies before you pull away from the keypad. In a moment of whimsy, you blow your hot breath against the glass until it’s steamed up before pressing your puckered lips on it. No sound escapes the barrier between you, but you can see Tim laughing, his cheeks still palpably pink. He returns the gesture just moments before the Batcomputer begins to buzz.

Hi friend! I just wanted to let you know that I'm glad you exist. ♥︎

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Lady Vampire (with a brooklyn accent): I gotta tell ya, bein' immortal and a vampire has it's perks, but the one issue is that sex with the opposite gender gets borin'. You can only have so many men inside ya before they feel the same. I've lived a long time too. The amounts of guys who've been like 'I'm the one that can make you feel like a natural woman' and then don't have left me more hungry than me on a blood lust. Then I met up with this woman in the 60s who was a repressed lesbian because 1860s. Took her home, next thing I know we're sweaty and layin' in the bed-

Spoiler: Why are you telling us this?

Vampire: I'm gettin' there. I'm into many genders, but women's is what I enjoy. They soft, they listen, we both like cuddlin', but they're still a challenge.

The vampire looks directly at Spoiler as Red Robin and Red Hood step away a few inches.

Vampire: It is actually hard givin' them an orgasm. I thought it was me. My point is, I don't want any of the mens you're with. I want you blondie. You got the look I like, reminds me of this old pirate back in 1865 and your body is bangin'. What do you say, one night of passion?

Spoiler remains silent as her entire face turns pink unsure of what to say.

Vampire: I'll release your friends from my thrall if you do.

Red Hood: Spoiler, go on over to her. Have that night of passion.

Vampire: I've got vanilla scented candles.

Hood: That's your favorite.

Spoiler let's out an angry growl directed to Hood. Red Robin, standing next to the two, chuckles slowly which grows more and more until he falls on the floor in hysterics.

Vampire: What- What did I say?

Spoiler: I- Y- I need a moment- you said a lot things that I'm trying to process. Is anyone warm? I am gonna just walk for a second.

Spoiler walks away.

Red Hood (chuckling): Are you thinking about it?

Spoiler: Ignoring you!

Red Robin, on the ground laughing, starts snorting as well.

Red Robin: Oh God, oh God, that was the- Oddly enough I agree with your thinking, but with men.

Vampire: Oh you're pan or bi?

Red Robin: Bi.

Vampire: Wow, good for you. Blondie, do it for your friend, he understands.

Hood: I'm on board with this as well. Spoiler, you can cross it off your bucket list.

Spoiler: I am not banging a vampire- Would you just let our friends go for a different reason! Have sex with one of them!

Vampire: Come on, I'm gentle. Won't even bite ya.

Spoiler: I am not banging a vampire! Man or woman, not happening!

Vampire: I swear, some of them are hard to win over.

Hood: Preaching to the choir. Give me a second.

Hood walks over to Spoiler and carries her back to the group.

Spoiler crosses her arms angrily.

Vampire: All right, all right, no sex. I respect the boundary. How about a kiss, no tongue, just lips.

Spoiler: I-

Hood: Nightwing is a vampire, do it for him.

Spoiler: Frick it, fine. Pucker up!

Vampire: Yes!

Five days later:

Dick: How were you able to defeat her again?

Stephanie: I stuck a dagger in her heart and nothing else!

Dick: Um okay.

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Make you mine - Part Two- Lucifer x fallen angel!fem!reader

Go to part one Words: ~2250 TW: swearing, mentions of sex

"You don't stay?" you asked, as you watched Adam getting dressed, your breath still feeling heavy. You've heard many angels say he was a busy man, but you at least hoped he'd spend the night with you.

"Nah. Got better things to do than watching you sleep, sweetheart." He gave you a cocky smirk as he got up, pulling his shirt on over his head. He took a couple of steps towards you, his gaze drifting over your body for a moment longer. Your heart ached at his words, a feeling of vulnerability washing over you, your eyes getting a bit teary.

"Hey, hey, what's with that look? You didn't seriously expect me to cuddle up with you and stay the night, did you?" he asked.

"Well... I hoped you would stick around for a while..."

He sighed at your words, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Ok, here's what we're gonna do. Extermination Day is in two fucking days, babe. I have a lot of things to do." he explained, studying your reaction for a moment, before speaking again. "I might be able to stay longer after that. Just two more days. I'll stay a little longer afterwards, okay dollface?"

You smiled a bit at his words, nodding slightly as you covered your body with your wings. He turned around to leave, but something still bothered you, something you desperately needed an answer to.

"Adam?" you asked your voice low, almost a whisper. His hand stopped on the doorknob as he turned to face you, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"Yes?"

Your wings wrapped tightly around you, almost like a protective shield as you thought about the right words to ask him.

"What are we?"

He raised an eyebrow at your question, a bit taken aback by it. "We're... having fun, you know," he said with a forced smile. "Does it really need a label, doll?"

You thought for a moment, not really knowing what to make out of it, but the sickening feeling in your gut surely told you it was not the answer you expected. "I... I guess not?"

"Right. Then there's no need to complicate things, is there? We're having a good time, and that's all that matters, right?" You nodded slightly, trying to force a smile so he wouldn't question you anymore, so he would finally leave you alone. "You sure you're fine? You look like you're about to cry or something," he teased, his tone more playful than concerned. You nodded again, the answer good enough to make him leave you alone in the cold room.

You weren't sure if you expected this to happen or not. You weren't even sure if he was gonna come back. But even if you expected it or not, it still hurt you like hell. You pulled your wings closer as if shielding yourself from the cold emptiness he left behind. You told yourself it was just a fling, but it never felt like that to you.

You couldn't wait for the day to become a proper exorcist. Maybe just then he'll finally give you some more credit...

You couldn't help but smile as you listened to Charlie explaining the whole purpose of her hotel. Adam did tell you some things, but you just now realise how much he kept you in darkness.

"I want them all to have a chance to redeem!" she said excitedly, but a sudden hint of sadness replaced the look on her face. "If only Heaven would listen to me..."

Her eyes widened as you placed a hand on her shoulder, your smile genuine. "I didn't know all these... They... kind of keep us away from the truth up there..." Her smile returned slightly. A part of her knew this would be the case. It was kind of hard to believe that no one in Heaven would share her dreams if they knew.

"Yeah, they usually like doing so..." Lucifer's voice echoed in the room, making your body tense slightly as you both turned to face him. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at the two of you. There was a hint of a smirk on his face as he spoke. "I see the two of you are getting along." He said, his tone slightly sarcastic.

"Dad, I have the perfect idea!" Charlie said, the stiffness in your body slightly disappearing. "I have that meeting with Heaven tomorrow. Why don't we tell them (Y/n) is here? She told me she had some friends there so maybe-"

"Absolutely not." He said bluntly, the smile on both of your faces disappearing completely.

"But... maybe they'll take her back to Heaven..." Charlie protested.

"And punish her for betraying them?" You and Charlie looked at each other, the hope you might have had left slowly fading. He sighed, stepping closer, his eyes fixed on you. "Look... I know this place is... not your cup of cake, but trust me when I say it is better than what those exorcists would do to you." He said and you could tell there was a hint of remorse on his face. "Besides, Adam-"

"Adam?" you asked quickly as you heard his name, a glint of hope reappearing on your face. "Will Adam be there too?"

Lucifer looked at you, his expression hardening as you mentioned Adam. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he didn't like it one bit. "Unfortunately, yes." He said with a slight sneer. "He'll be there. All the higher-ranking angels are obligated to attend those meetings."

"Adam will listen!" you protested, the sudden pain in your back as you tried to move, making you calm down a bit. "He will tell them to get me back."

Lucifer chuckled darkly at your naive belief. "Oh sweetheart, you're quite naive, aren't you?" He said, his tone condescending. He leaned closer, his eyes studying your face intently."Do you really think Adam—or anyone up there—cares enough to even notice you? You're a deserter, a traitor to them. They won't hesitate to destroy you if they get the chance."

"No... you have to listen!" your gaze shifted between them, frustration building up inside of you. "I knew Adam. We... We have a history." you said, even though a part of you wasn't sure if you could call it that. But you really hoped he cared about you enough to take you out of this place... He used to say it, at least. "He'll come after me, please!"

You noticed his eyebrows furrowing slightly at your words, as he sighed."Even if Adam were to care about you, and that's a big 'if', what good do you think it would do? The Archangels would never allow your return to Heaven, and Adam certainly has no power there."

"Dad... I'm sure Adam defending her will surely... have some impact." Charlie said, knowing this might be your only way out. "We have to try at least."

Lucifer's irritation only seemed to grow, but his face slightly softened as he saw his daughter so determined. His eyes met yours once again. He saw hope in them - a very naive, but honest hope. He knew it would be in vain, but he couldn't help but think - what if you were right?

What if Adam changed and actually cared about someone? He knew he was very much able to, but were you, a simple exorcist, this important for him?

He sighed, clearing his throat. "Fine. But I will do the talking." his eyes shifted to Charlie. "You two stay here. This is a... delicate subject and I need to think how to approach it."

Charlie smiled, and you couldn't help but feel extremely grateful too. Your mind already wanders at how you will return and how the pain will disappear. But something in Lucifer's eyes intrigued you. It was a look that crushed your soul just a tiny bit. A look of doubt. And for a moment even you stopped to wonder -

Did Adam really care?

Adam stood in the chair in the meeting room, when he heard the door opening. "You're kind of late, Princess Morningstar," he said, a pinch of annoyance in his tone as his eyes were still concentrated on some golden papers.

Lucifer walked into the meeting room, his steps measured and deliberate. He took a few steps toward Adam, a hint of disgust on his face as he eyed his 'old pal'. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Adam." He said sarcastically, his tone dripping with false pleasantry. "You know how it is. Royal duties and all that."

Adam's eyes opened wide as Lucifer's voice echoed in the room. "You? What the fuck are you doin' here?!"

He smirked at Adam's reaction, clearly enjoying the look of surprise on his face. "Oh, I just thought I'd grace you all with my presence." He said, twirling his cane in his hand. "After all, it's not every day that Hell gets a chance to chat with Heaven's finest."

"You fucker! You're lucky I'm not actually down there or else...." he began, his hologram glitching slightly as the frustration built up inside of him. He stopped, a bad feeling coming his way. "This is not about your brat's hotel, is it?" he asked, sensing something more behind this meeting.

Lucifer chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Adam. "Oh, you know me too well." He said sarcastically. "But no, this isn't just about the hotel. I have a different matter I want to discuss with you."

Adam took a bite of his ribs, as he sat back down into his chair. "What is it?"

"I think you miss an exorcist, Adam."

Adam's eyebrows furrowed as Lucifer's words sunk in. He was about to take another bite of his ribs, but he froze midway. "What the hell did you say?" He dropped the ribs onto the table, his gaze turning sharp and focused on Lucifer. "Lute! Get yo ass here!" He shouted and the exorcist quickly entered the room, tightly holding her spear. "Are any of the exorcists missing?"

Lute shook her head firmly. "Absolutely not. I had them all assembled this morning for inspection. They all-" she stopped for a moment, thinking. "Shit..."

Adam's eyes narrowed as he saw Lute hesitate. He sat up straight, his mind racing. "Spit it out. What's going on?" he demanded, his voice harsh and impatient.

"There was one rookie missing..." She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, realising she'd been so busy in the past few days that she completely forgot to announce your disappearance.

"And you forgot to mention this until now?" he said, a hint of frustration present in his tone.

Lute winced. She hated to admit that Adam was right - she was slipping on the job. But she straightened up, trying to maintain her composure. "I had a lot on my mind, okay?! I've had to keep all those rookie exorcists in check while you've been busy with those Virtue chicks!"

"Not the point!" Adam intervened, his attention back on Lucifer. "So what if there's a rookie missing? We have plenty of more," he said, his voice nonchalant about the whole situation.

Lucifer smirked as he saw Adam's reaction. He had a feeling this would play out exactly like this. "Ah, but this isn't just any rookie." He said casually, a hint of mockery in his tone. "She told me that you were quite... acquainted."

Adam thought for a moment about all the rookies he talked to recently... too many possibilities. "Who exactly are we talkin' about here, Lucifer? What's her name?" His voice was now filled with a mix of intrigue and tension.

"Oh, you know her quite well, actually. She goes by (Y/n). Sounds familiar?"

"(Y/n)..." he repeated, a lightbulb lighting up. "Oh... Yeah..." he said, giggling a bit. "Eh, whatever."

"W-What?" Lucifer said, surprised by his nonchalance.

"Look, don't get me wrong. The chick's fine. We fucked a few times, but, hell-" he snorted, an amused smirk on his face. "I ain't gonna come down there for her."

"Is that so?" He said, his voice laced with a hint of anger. "You don't care about what happens to her? Despite your... history?"

"History? Slow down a bit... Did she tell you all these stories? About us?"

"Well, I-"

"Um, no." Adam interrupted. "Tell her I'm not coming down there to get her ass. If she survives until the next Extermination... I might consider it, but still, no." he said, getting up to make his way out of the room.

"Wait! You... You really don't care?"

Adam stopped for a moment, thinking. "Nope, not really. I have plenty of others up there." He turned to face him, a smirk on his face. "See? Take it as a gift. I know you have a kink for things that I fucked." His laughing echoed through the room as he disappeared, leaving Lucifer alone in the darkness.

"You little... insufferable..." He clenched his hand tightly around his cane, the veins in his forehead standing out.

The words Adam spoke echoed in Lucifer’s mind, gnawing at him. He’d seen it before—angels who cast aside loyalty like old robes. But there was something about you, something familiar in your heartbreak, that made it sting even more.

How was he going to tell you? How could he tell you that the only person you seemed to trust discarded you so easily?

How could he possibly look into your eyes, just to see the hope leaving them? How could he do that when every time he looked at you...

He saw himself.

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @diffidentphantom @helreyy

@athanasthos @selfship-and-fandom-shenanigans

@xghostnuggsx @vxllys @ustulia

[wolfsteax]

Grief is such a weird feeling.

It's been 3 days since we had to put Smokey down and I still can't put a finger on what I'm feeling.

At times, the broken routine and absence are so loud. I'll go to put food in his dish or call him onto the couch and then flinch when I remember he's not there. I see him everywhere, and nowhere at all. He exists in empty spaces where I can't touch him and I start to cry. Suddenly, I feel the day we adopted him feel like yesterday. How could 5 years ever be enough? He was meant to die elderly on his favorite spot, body healthy and simply old. I crave what I didn't get to see. I mourn memories I didn't have. Not only are his places here empty, but all his places in the future are as well. The absence is screaming.

Sometimes, I feel it's already been years since he passed. It was this week it happened, but i feel like it was ages ago. I feel so far ahead with the pain becoming a dull ache. I almost feel I start to forget him, like feeling so far away has put me in a fog. I feel I've drifted so far away I'm able to fake cheerfulness riddled with guilt. It's like a mania, a twisted joy fueled by a constant hurt.

Then, I feel a bittersweet comfort. Smokey is all around me. I believe in his little spirit still being here, relaxing in the sun. I swear I see him at his food bowl out of the corner of my eye or sitting on the back of the couch. I have dreams of him laying on me, purring deeply and warming me. They're so vivid and tangible. We saw a cat-shaped cloud in the sky the day we said goodbye. It was there when he got home from the vet. It looked so happy on that cloud, a sign of peace. I feel a sad relief knowing we prevented a miserable death from his end-stage cancer. I feel his thanks and freedom all around the home, radiating off the places he would sleep.

Grief feels like the epitome of "will happen, happening, happened". I cry, laugh, hurt, and yearn. No matter what, my heart aches. I know it always will. I'm glad it always will. It's the mark of intense love. The deep scar of surrendering your heart to another soul.

I don't regret listening to Smokey's needs. I don't regret letting him fall asleep surrounded by us, before cardiac arrest took him. I would do it all over again, all 5 years, in every life. He was worth it. He will always be worth it.

I know I'll slowly accept what happened. It's just really hard and confusing right now.

So, I'll continue to walk the road. And, everyday, I'll put a bit of food in an empty dish. The one where a fat, grey cat sits purring. Unseen, but not absent.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Checo taking on you the frustration of the race result, in front of the mirror doggy style meandom!checo

“Fucking Baku” — Checo Perez x reader

Warnings — smut mean!dom!checo p in v unprotected sex doggy style mirror sex degradation + some praise slight pain kink and fear kink humiliation kink? Checo also calls reader a good girl,toy and outlet… so hint of free use name calling and objectification probably some other things to I can’t remember.

You can also pin point the exact moment I got bold and said fuck it.

Word count 3.3k

@selfishpresley

Your smile dropped as you and everyone watched as Checo, your husband, and Carlos collided on the second to last lap of the Baku Grand Prix. “Holy shit,” you said out loud as you listened to the angry radio message that came from Checo. Checo has had a bad season for racing and today was somewhat of a redemption day for him all up until the crash.

Checo arrived home, a look of anger on his face, slamming the door behind him and throwing his bag on the ground. He knew you’d be waiting for him and he made his way over to you. “That race was going so well. Why? Why did he have to ruin it for me?”

“It was an accident, Checo,” you said, attempting to calm him down, but he just wouldn’t budge. “I know it was, but still... It's so damn frustrating. He ruined everything.”

He leaned against the kitchen counter, his hands gripping the edges tightly as he continued to rant. “I was doing so well and I was so close to getting onto that podium again. But then he had to go and screw it up.”

You approached him, placing your hands on his chest in an attempt to soothe him, but he shrugged you off. “I just wanted a good race. Just one good damned race, but it didn’t happen. It never does.”

Frustration was seeping through his voice as he ran a hand through his hair, the stress getting to him. “I work so hard, but nothing ever goes my way. I’m stuck in this constant cycle of disappointment and it’s driving me crazy.”

You understood his feelings, you did; the long hours spent training, the sacrifices he made to achieve success, only for it to slip through his fingers time and time again. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t let it get to you like this,” you said gently, trying to reason with him.

“Is there anything u can do to help?” You asked.

He let out a heavy sigh before answering, “I don’t know, maybe I just need to hit the gym, blow off some steam. Or I could just go for a drive…” Then, a cheeky look appeared on his face. “Or there is another way you could help me relax…”

His words were laced with a hint of suggestion and a devilish smirk played on his lips. He pushed himself away from the counter and sauntered closer to you, closing the distance between you two.

His hand came up to caress your cheek, his gaze intense and filled with a mix of frustration and desire. “You’re always so good at helping me forget, you know that?” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

He stepped closer, his chest nearly touching yours as he continued to speak. “And I’ve been really stressed lately... maybe you could... help me relax,” he whispered, his eyes darkening with a smoldering look.

Your heart skipped a beat as he continued to lean in, his hot breath on your skin sending a shiver down your spine. He was so close, you could feel the heat radiating off his body, the tension in the room electric. He leaned down, his lips just barely brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I’m sure you know exactly what I need right now…”

Then, he pulled back, his eyes meeting yours as he waited for your response, his hands resting on your hips. “Oh yes, I have a few ideas…” you replied, your voice laced with a sultry tone.

He grinned, clearly pleased with your response. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

He leaned down again, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, and you melted into him. The kiss was intense, filled with pent-up frustration and desire. He pulled you flush against him, his hands roaming your body as he deepened the kiss.

He spun you around, pressing you back against the counter, his body flush against yours, the hardness of his muscles against your softness. His lips left your mouth, trailing hotly down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bite marks in their wake. You gasped, arching into him as his hands reached the hem of your shirt, quickly pulling it over your head.

His eyes roamed over your body, taking in every inch of you, his gaze filled with hunger. “You’re so damned beautiful,” he breathed, his hands sliding up your sides, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He leaned back in, kissing and biting at your neck, his mouth moving down your collarbone and along your chest. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, needing to feel more of him.

He shifted position slightly, his thigh sliding between your legs, pressing against you, the pressure sending a wave of pleasure through you. A shiver ran down your spine, your fingers threaded into his hair as you let out a soft moan.

He chuckled against your skin, his lips curving into a smirk. “Mmm, I love the sounds you make for me,” he said, nipping at your earlobe. “I think I could make you make even better noises though…”

His hands slid down your body, stopping at the waistband of your pants, his fingers brushing against your skin, teasing you. “Let’s see if I’m right, shall we?” he said, his voice dripping with desire.

You let out a soft gasp as he slowly pulls your pants down, his fingers tracing the lines of your underwear. He pauses for a moment, his breath hot against your skin, before he slips his hand inside your panties, his fingers brushing against your wet folds. "Fuck, you're so wet already,"

He looked up at you, the look on his face was filled with pure hunger. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said, his fingers tracing over the fabric of your underwear. “I’ve been imagining all of the things I’ve been wanting to do to you…”

Your breath hitches as he slowly slides your underwear off, baring you to his gaze. "Spread your legs for me, beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. You comply, parting your thighs as he settles between them, his warm breath on your most intimate area.

A whimper escaped your lips, and you pressed yourself against him, needing more. “Checo,” you gasped, your fingers gripping onto his shoulders. “Please... don’t tease me like this.”

“I’ll do what I want you're not in charge here and you should remember that” Checo responded standing up changing his mind at the last second. Your breath hitched in your throat as he stood up, the commanding tone in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You swallowed hard, your heart racing. You knew he was right; you weren’t in charge here, and he was clearly in control.

“Y-Yes, Checo,” you managed to stutter out, a mix of fear and excitement in your voice. A smirk appeared on his face as he saw the effect his words had on you. “Good girl,” he said, his hand gripping your chin and tilting it up to meet his eyes. “You’re going to do everything I say, aren’t you?”

You nodded, your eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and arousal. “Yes,” you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. “Anything you want, I’ll do anything.”

A wicked gleam appeared in his eyes, a look of satisfaction on his face. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

He leaned in, his lips moving to your ear, his voice low and husky. “Now, be a good girl and get on the bed. I want you facing the mirror on your hands and knees.” Your heart pounded in your chest as you obeyed, moving to the bed and positioning yourself as he instructed. You felt exposed and vulnerable, and it was both terrifying and arousing. You swallowed hard and glanced into the mirror, seeing your reflection staring back at you, waiting for his next command.

He came up behind you, his hands on your hips, his touch firm and possessive. He leaned down so his lips were next to your ear. “Look at yourself,” he growled, his voice low and rough. “Look at how beautiful you look, waiting for me.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror; your hair messy, your cheeks flushed, your chest heaving. You did look beautiful, but also vulnerable, and a shiver ran down your spine as you waited for his next move. He pulled away from you for a moment, and the sound of him quickly removing his clothes could be heard. Then he was back behind you, his body pressing against yours, his hands roaming over your body.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “All yours.”

He chuckled, his fingers trailing over your side, his touch sending tingles through your body. “That’s right, you are mine, and I’m going to remind you of that over and over again my slut to ruin.” His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through you. You were completely at his mercy, a submissive plaything for him to do whatever he wanted with. He stepped back momentarily, and then his hand was on your hip, his touch rough and possessive. “Keep looking at yourself,” he ordered, his voice a deep rumble. “Don’t take your eyes off the mirror.”

You couldn’t do anything but obey, your eyes fixated on your reflection in the mirror. You saw how vulnerable you looked, and how your body was responding to his touch. It was a mixture of humiliation and arousal, and you couldn’t do anything but submit to his will.

He stepped up behind you once again, his body pressing against yours, his chest against your back. You could feel the hardness of his body, the heat from his skin, as he aligned himself behind you. He leaned down so his lips were near your ear. “Are you ready for me, baby?” he asked, his voice huskier than usual. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice shaky as you braced yourself for what was to come. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Without another word, he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of him just pressing against you, sending a wave of anticipation through you. “You look so good like this,” he muttered, his hands holding onto your hips tightly, steadying you. “So ready for me.”

Your heart was racing, your breath coming out in quick, shallow gasps as you waited for him to move. “Please,” you gasped, your voice pleading. “Please, I need you.”

“Shhh, I know what you need,” Checo replied softly, his hands tightening on your hips. With a slow, deliberate motion, he began to push inside you, inch by inch, allowing you to feel every hard ridge of his erection as he stretched you to accommodate his size.”

“Good girl.” His grip on your hips tightened, and he slowly, tantalizingly, pushed himself into you. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips as he filled you, your head falling back momentarily before you quickly looked back at the mirror, remembering his command. “Eyes on the mirror,”

he reminded you, his tone firm. “Don’t take your eyes off yourself.” You obeyed, your eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror, taking in every detail. The way your body was pressed against his, the flush of your skin, the way your body responded to his every touch. “You like that?” he asked, his voice filled with a smug satisfaction.

His hands roamed over your body, caressing your curves, squeezing your full breasts, his touch possessive and demanding. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your shoulder blade as he began to move within you, pulling out almost completely before slamming back in.

You nodded, all you could manage was a desperate “mhm” sound in response, too overwhelmed by the sensations flooding through your body. He chuckled, the sound a mixture of amusement and pleasure. “I love hearing how desperate you are for me,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips even tighter. “It’s so beautiful, the way you submit to me.”

He started moving, his pace slow and torturous, driving you to the edge of ecstasy. Every thrust sent jolts of ecstasy through your body, your eyes fluttering closed as the pleasure became too much. You were completely at his mercy. He suddenly leaned forward, stopping his movements, and grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking it back roughly. “I said, keep your eyes open,” he reminded you, his voice rough and commanding. “Don’t you dare close your eyes?”

With a swift motion, he began to move within you again, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming more powerful. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

You gasped, your eyes fluttering open again as you forced yourself to look in the mirror. The sight of yourself, completely under his control, was both mesmerizing and humiliating. He let go of your hair, but his grip on your hips didn’t release. “I want you to watch yourself as I make you lose control, " he growled. “I want to see you fall apart for me.” He adds pounding hard into you.

You couldn’t do anything but obey, your body shaking with the pleasure coursing through you. Every time he moved within you, every touch of his fingers burned hotter on your skin, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Maldito Buka, Maldito Sainz arruinando mi puta carrera” Checo seetha his grip on your hips tightened his nails dug into your skin sending waves of both pleasure and pain through your body causing you to fall onto your forearms and your head hung low.

He continued to fuck you mercilessly, his words a constant stream of profanity and abuse as he lost himself in the moment. "Fucking useless piece of shit, can't even win a race without fucking up," he spat, his hips slamming against yours with renewed vigor.

You groaned, your head dropping down as his words and actions hit you. “I know, baby, I know,” you pointed out, your body trembling with need, your voice filled with both sympathy and arousal.

“I’m so furious,” he growls, his voice deep and guttural. “I was doing so well, and then that idiot ruined it all…”

His fingers dig into your skin, a mix of anger and lust fueling his actions. The pain and pleasure mix, sending tremors down your spine. You can feel his frustration, his anger radiating through his touch. It’s both terrifying and exciting, knowing that he’s taking it out on you, using your body to release his aggression.

His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more forceful as his anger took over. He let out a low, animalistic growl, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he continued to drive into you. “Look at yourself. Look at how beautifully you take my anger.” He grunted.”

“Uh-uh,” Checo says, yanking you back up by your hair, your back flushed against his chest, his now around your neck as he whispered into your ear. “I thought I told you to keep your eye on the mirror?” Checo says.

“See,” he growls, “see what I’ve been reduced to?” He tightens his grip on your neck slightly, a possessive gesture that makes your heart race with a mixture of fear and pleasure. “Because of that idiot.” You can feel his breath on your skin, hot and ragged. He’s completely enraged, and you’re the outlet for all his anger and frustration. The feeling of his grip on your neck, the sound of his voice in your ear, it’s both terrifying and thrilling.

“You’re mine,” he mutters, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a possessive whisper. “My outlet, my toy. I can do whatever I want with you, however I want. You won’t disappoint me right?” he asks. The question hangs in the air, a threat as much as a statement. You know he expects obedience, that you’re here to serve him, to fulfill his needs, no matter how rough or rough or intense they may be. “No, Checo,” you reply, your voice shaky with anticipation. “I won’t disappoint you.”

He chuckles, the sound dark and sinister. “Good,” he says. “Because if you do, I’ll make you pay for it.” He pauses for a moment, his grip on your neck tightening slightly as he continues. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He knows the answer, and you know he wants to hear you say it. The feeling of his power over you, the knowledge that he can make you submit to him utterly is a thrill that you both share. “Yes, I would,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckles again, a deep, pleased sound. “I knew you would,” he says. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” He releases his grip on your neck, his hand moving down to your hip again, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“Yes,” you reply, your voice a mix of submission and arousal. “I’m your good girl, Checo. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Anything?” he repeats, a hint of challenge in his voice. “Anything at all?” You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Anything,” you reaffirm, the word coming out in a trembling whisper. “Whatever you want, I’ll do it for you.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice rough and gravelly. “Because I have plans for you, mi niña. Things I’ve been thinking about all day, ways to use you, to break you but first I want you to come.” “Good,” he murmurs, his voice rough and gravelly. “Because I have plans for you, mi niña. Things I’ve been thinking about all day, ways to use you, to break you but first I want you to finish for me,” he says his hips still thrusting into yours.

“I want to watch you come apart, want to see your pretty face twisted in pleasure as you coat my cock with your release.” his hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he continues to fuck you hard and fast. “Come for me, mi niña,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your core squeezed Checo's cock.

"Good girl," he hissed, his control unraveling as he felt your warmth pulsating around him. He grunted with each thrust, his voice growing hoarse as he chased his release. "Keep squeezing, just like that, mi vida." checo groans and you could feel his cock twitch inside of you letting you know that he was so close to cumming. "Yes, just like that, my sweet girl," he hisses, his hips stuttering as he neared release. His fingers dug into your hips painfully, his body tensing as he tried to hold back.

A few more thrusts later the two of you cummed at the same time. You felt Checo's cock throb inside you as he unloaded his seed deep within your pussy, his hot cum coating your walls. At the same moment, your orgasm overtook you, your cervix clenching and unclenching as your clit throbbed with pleasure. You both let out a chorus of moans and groans.

"Oh... mi amor... That was... amazing," Checo panted, burying his face in your neck. He stayed inside you, his weight heavy on top of you as he caught his breath. "You're so perfect for me, mi vida." He peppered your skin with gentle kisses.

“That was..that was just wow just wow,” you said laughing breathlessly. Checo chuckled, his arms wrapping around you as he gently rolled onto his back, taking you with him so you were sprawled on top of him. "I'm glad you liked it, mi vida," he murmured, his hands slowly caressing your back. "But we're not done yet."

“no?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," he said, his voice firm with intention. His hands gripped your ass, lifting you slightly before guiding you back down onto his still-hard cock. "I told you, I have plans for you tonight. And I always keep my promises oh and one more thing when we’re done I want you to call your brother and tell him that he needs to learn how to drive.”

[guppygiggles]

Let's Get Physical!

What: Tickle fluff with a dash of mild hurt/comfort.

Word count: ~2.3k

Universe: Sea & Sky AU

Who: Avery, Casper, Finnegan.

Description: Avery gives Finnegan a physical. Emotional bonding and cuddling between the three of them. Just a little oneshot with a bit of tickling for everyone!

Friday afternoon couldn't have come soon enough.

As I made the short trek home from the bank, my eyes trained on the lighthouse as it stood tall against the afternoon sky. After glaring at my computer screen and paperwork for eight hours, it was a relief to stare at something beautiful and distant. I rolled my tired shoulders, wincing in pain as I did. Maybe I could talk Avery into giving me one of his expert massages… Not that I deserved it, I thought, after how neglectful I’d been him and Finn all week. I frowned, remembering how many times I'd fallen asleep watching TV with them -- I definitely needed to make up for lost time this weekend. I shuffled up the stone steps and turned the lighthouse’s antique doorknob, wiping my feet on the strawberry-print mat as I entered.

“Caspeheher! Hehehehelp!”

No sooner had I walked through the door – key still in-hand – than my arms were full of triton as Finn crashed into me, nearly knocking us both over. He squeezed me as if he hadn't seen me in weeks, giggling as he nuzzled his face into my neck. With some effort, I deposited my keys and wallet into the plastic tray and shuffled out of my shoes, just in time to watch Avery appear in the foyer. He was grinning in that characteristic, long-suffering way of his as he shook his head.

“What are you doing to this fish?” I asked, chuckling as Finn scrambled out of my arms and hid behind me.

“Well, I was just trying to give him a routine physical,” Avery replied, “but as you can see, it isn't going well.”

“He’s lying!” Finn protested, laughter riding beneath his words. “He was tickling me!”

I quirked an eyebrow at Avery, who rolled his eyes upward, offering a sheepish grin-and-shrug combo that told me everything I needed to know. For the first time that day, I giggled.

“Do you need an assistant to help with this patient, Dr. Nimbus?” I asked playfully, reaching back to pinch Finn's side without taking my eyes off the cloudman, eliciting a ticklish squeal.

“Why, yes! Thank you for offering, I believe that would be quite helpful!”

“What?! You traitor!” Before I could snatch him, Finnegan darted past me and was scampering back up the stairs with a gleeful laugh. I wondered why Avery didn't stop him… until the elemental floated gracefully over to me, pulling me into a deep and comprehensive embrace. I sighed with relief, my eyes automatically closing as I laid my head on his chest, listening to the quiet storm inside his body. Bergamot and old paper wrapped around my olfactory nerve like a warm blanket – I was finally home.

“Hi, dewdrop.”

“Hey, peach.”

“How was your day?”

“Tiring… This audit is wearing me out. I'm really sorry I haven't been much fun to be around this week… I promise I'll make it up to you and Finny.”

“You know you don't have to apologize for that, sweetheart. We're both so proud of how hard you work, and we understand when you're tired.” Avery's large, soft hand stroked my upper back. As it did, I felt his fingers get curious around my shoulders, pressing and palpating my achy muscles. I flinched through a cocktail of ticklishness and pain. “Oh, oh… Sorry, did that hurt? My goodness, you are tense. You've been hunching over your desk again, haven't you?”

I blushed a little. No matter how many times Avery tried to correct my posture, I always fell back into old habits as soon as work got too stressful.

“Aheh… Maybe a little… Sorry.”

“Oh, Casper… Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he chided, his touch turning softer and playing around my shoulders and neck, making me laugh and squirm.

“Ehehe~! Okay, I'll- ahaha! I'll w-work on ihihhihit!”

“You'd better, or you'll be in for a much more serious tickling than this!” Avery teased, continuing to tickle a bit more before stopping, his eyes tender as he looked at me. “Really, though… I'll give you a nice massage later, okay? I don't want you to be in pain.”

I felt my ears flush as I turned my attention to the foyer wall, my mind wandering to Avery's cool, pillowy doctor's hands coated in massage oil, squeezing and kneading my bare shoulders…

I cleared my throat, meeting his eyes only briefly, as if staring too long would allow him to read my mind.

“Don't we have a fish to torment?”

“Ah, yes! I'm sure he's up there getting impatient… which makes me worry for the state of our home. Shall we?”

He gestured to the stairwell. I took a step forward, then halted, eyeing him warily.

“... After you.”

Avery grinned. “No, really. I insist.”

“You’re a doctor; such a title affords you the right to go first, don't you think? Please permit me to offer this token of my respect.”

I watched him try not to laugh. So was I, but I was better at it.

“...You flatter me. Very well, I'll lead on.”

I let Avery believe I wasn't going to do anything. I was certain that by the time we’d passed the halfway point, I'd convinced him of my innocence. Surely if I'd planned on doing something, I would've by then. Right?

Right…?

Wrong. With about ten steps in the winding staircase to go, I reached up and gave the elemental a quick scribbling along both of his sides. Avery gasped in surprise, followed by a flurry of defeated, yet joyful laughter.

“Oh, you cheeky little-”

Just like Finnegan had done to me earlier, I ducked under Avery's hands as he reached back to snatch me, clambering to pass him on the staircase. Unlike Finn, though… dodging Avery's hands didn't guarantee my safety, as a forceful gust of wind knocked me backwards and right into his arms. I screeched with laughter as he lifted and tossed me like a sack of potatoes over his soft shoulder, my legs kicking as he easily carried me the rest of the way.

“Oh, no you don't,” he admonished, reaching up to tweak the crease at the top of my thigh with his thumb and forefinger. Panicked laughter filled the living room we now stood in as I thrashed, but none of my wriggling did any good; he was simply too strong. Avery chuckled as he gently pinched, forcing a torrent of squealing, frantic laughter from me, until he deposited me carefully on the couch.

“Did you know I was going to do that?” I asked, still giggling.

“I had a suspicion… but I will concede that you lulled me into a false sense of security.”

“Yessss!” I cheered, earning another lighthearted glare as he reached down with both hands, quickly wiggling his fingers along my sides and belly. I curled into a ball on the couch, filling the room with my hysterical squawking as he tickled any spot he could reach.

“You might be a systems admin, but you moonlight as a troublemaker, don't you?”

“NOHOHOHOOO!”

“I think you doooo~” He lilted, worming his fingers under my arms, between my neck and shoulder, and any other ticklish creases I created with my defensive posture. I was still screeching as Finn appeared in the doorway.

“Don't worry, Casper, I'll save you!” His bare, webbed feet made a sound like a duck running as he charged Avery, who whirled on him before Finnegan had a chance to try anything, easily scooping the triton into his arms and nuzzling into him.

“EEEEEHEhehehee!” Finn laughed, his fingers squishing Avery’s soft head as the cloudman kissed his neck.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Avery tittered, taking a seat on the sofa beside me, Finn still in his arms. “Will you please let me finish your physical, brave warrior? I'm almost done, I promise... I just need to check your belly, now.”

Finn sighed dramatically, then sprawled across Avery's lap, adjusting his body such that his head rested on my thigh. I grinned down at him.

“Hi, Finny-Finn-Finn.” I swept his hair back and leaned down to kiss his forehead. The warmth of his scales was always a bit of a surprise, especially compared to Avery's chilly skin.

I was expecting Avery to go in for the kill, but as I watched him methodically inspect Finn's abdomen, I realized he was conducting a legitimate physical. He gently pressed and palpated the softer scales of his belly as he used his free arm to keep the merman’s squirmy legs still. Finn giggled, and I couldn't blame him; I'd been on the receiving end of plenty of physicals from Avery, too, and I knew those fingers tickled no matter how professional he tried to be. In the back of my mind, I knew it was likely a conflict of interest for Avery to treat us… but since he was the only doctor in Port Oleander – and more importantly, one of the few on land who could treat merfolk – I supposed an exception had been permitted.

“Does any of this hurt, Finn? Has your belly been hurting at all, lately?”

“N-no, it's not hurting. Uhm… my belly hurt last night, after dinner, though…” He admitted.

I frowned, unable to recall him saying anything about a stomach ache. Last night had been my turn to cook. I wasn't a great cook to begin with, and admittedly… it was difficult to prepare meals that both Finnegan and Avery could eat; the elemental couldn't digest any food that was too dry, and Finn’s rainbow trout biology was primarily carnivorous. Soups, stews, and curries were common in our house – dinner last night had been red curry with chicken.

“What kind of hurt? Was it stabbing, dull, hot, achy…?” Avery asked, concerned.

“Hot, especially when I was laying down in bed.” Finn looked away from me. Avery and I exchanged a glance.

“I'm sorry, Finn… I probably made it too spicy. I won't make that again. Why didn't you say anything? I would've gotten you some medicine to help you feel better.” I stroked Finn's hair back again, my face etched with guilt. Now that I was thinking back to the previous night, he had seemed more quiet than usual… but I had been too tired to comment on it, chalking it up to him being tired, too. I kicked myself; Finn was never tired. The only time the triton lacked energy was in the five – maybe ten – minutes wherein he would go from bouncing off the walls to being dead asleep. Had I been more observant, I would've realized that.

Finnegan's eyes were serious as he looked back at me, an expression that seemed foreign on his gamine face. He looked away again, though, as he started to speak.

“It's just… you've been working so hard this week, Caspy, and I didn't want to hurt your feelings or make you worry about me.”

I couldn't bring myself to meet Avery's eyes again as an arrow of regret pierced my heart. I really had been disconnected from them all week.

“Finn… nothing is more important to me than you and Avery, okay? I’m sorry I've been so busy this week, I should've paid more attention to how you were feeling. Please don't suffer in silence again, okay? If your tummy hurts – or anything hurts – please promise you'll tell us from now on.”

Finn's tail swished uncomfortably… but he managed a smile, looking up at me again.

“Okay, I'll tell you from now on… I promise.” He shifted his gaze to Avery, whose hands were still resting on his scaly belly. “Am I done, now?”

It occured to me then that the part of the physical Finnegan disliked wasn't the tickling, it was staying still. Avery's concerned expression relaxed; a rainbow after a storm.

“Yes! You're a very healthy fish, Finn. Just keep remembering to soak in the tub at least once a day when you can't go swimming, so your gills stay healthy and your scales don't dry out.”

“Okay!” He was already off the couch, stretching his arms over his head and swishing his tail, as if laying across our laps for ten minutes had made him stiff. I shook my head, grinning. “I'll go for a swim right now, actually! Love you, Caspy! Love you, Avery! Bye, bye, bye, bye!” Each ‘bye’ grew progressively quieter as he descended the stairs, tail thumping clumsily the whole way down.

Once he was out of earshot, I looked down at my hands.

“I feel so bad… he got sick because of me, and he didn't even say anything.”

Avery shifted, pulling me into his arms again. I rested against his soft, cool body.

“He got a bit of a tummy ache from eating something too spicy, not an incurable disease, hehe. You won't make that dish again, and he'll tell you next time something doesn't agree with him. No need to worry yourself sick, okay? Life is unpredictable and stressful, sometimes… but we're your family, Casper. We understand.”

I snuggled against Avery's side as he held me, my throat constricting as he said the last few words. He looked down at me, and then I felt my favorite little tickle under my chin, coaxing me to look at him.

“Now… I believe I need to tend to my other patient, hm? Why don't we start your weekend with a little physical therapy on those shoulders? I swear, you're wound up tighter than an eight day clock.” He brought me up with him as he stood, strong arms carrying me bridal-style in the direction of the bedroom, giving me no room to protest.

Not that I would have. My fingertips fiddled with the collar of his shirt, the ghost of a coy smile dancing across my lips.

“Alright, doctor… but you'll have to let me return the favor, afterwards. After all, I've got a whole week's worth of lost time to make up for. Think you can handle that much…?”

The shade of cerulean that rose in his cheeks told me he caught my meaning, and I watched his wisp of surprise turn into a bashful giggle.

“Can't wait, dewdrop.”

[cinnaleaf]

Wildflower | One Shot

Anon Request: Trent x best friend!reader "Wildflower - Billie Eilish" | MASTERLIST

genre: pure angst wc: ~1.6k a/n: thank you for all your requests, i hope my interpretation fuels your angsty little hearts!

You never meant to love him like this.

Being his best friend wasn't supposed to hurt this bad. You were always in the background, like the wildflowers that grow on the side of the road. Delicate, yet resilient and waiting to be seen. You were always right in front of Trent, ready to give him everything but he kept looking past you and you hated it. Why were you still standing there, loving him when he already chose someone else?

Zoë.

You didn't hate her even though you really wanted to. She was pretty much everything you weren't. Her presence lit up any room, like a sunflower basking in the sun, drawing everyone's attention without doing much at all. Then there was you..a little wildflower growing in the shadows. Unnoticed. It wasn't Zoë's fault Trent treated you the way he did and you knew that, but you couldn't help feeling a little jealous every time you saw them together. You tried to ignore it, but you could feel Trent pulling away from you. He was being cold, distant, and mean. You didn't understand why and it hurt.

“I dunno why you're still here, Y/N,” Trent muttered in a sharp tone, pulling his hoodie over his head as he glanced at you. You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through your phone like you always did. The two of you grew up together and were practically inseparable, until now.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” you asked, feeling knots in your stomach. “You're always around,” he said, his gaze not quite meeting your eyes. “like I need you here or something.” His words slapped you in the face. You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. “If you want me to leave..just say that. You don't have to be so damn rude about it.” Trent scoffed, running his hands over his face before looking back at you with cold eyes. “I'm saying it now, yeah?”

Something had changed, and you didn’t understand why.

“I know you don’t mean to hurt me, so I’ll keep it to myself” was like a mantra you kept repeating to yourself, willing yourself to believe it. You wanted it to be true so badly. You loved him but you wouldn't date admit it to him, especially not now.

You didn’t know he loved you just as much as you loved him. He tried so hard to avoid the feelings he had for you, even if it meant pushing you away. It wasn’t something he was ready to tackle yet. He was dating Zoë in an effort to distract himself from the way he felt about you. 

A couple of weeks later, you were at a random bar. It wasn't your usual spot, but Zoë invited you for whatever reason. She was sitting next to you, stirring her drink with a paper straw that was clearly getting soggy. You weren't close to her like you were with Trent, but she asked you to meet up and curiosity got the best of you. She was complaining for the last fifteen minutes, but you weren't really listening until something she said cut through the noise in your head.

“I don't know what's up with Trent,” Zoë said, sounding frustrated. “He doesn't even touch me like he used to anymore. He's there but he's not at the same time. I don't get it. He'll kiss me but then it's like his mind is somewhere else. It's so frustrating.” You froze as your fingers tightened around the glass in front of you. Every time Zoë told you something about him, it stung. He had been pulling away from you for months, but why was he pulling away from Zoë? Your heart did a stupid little flip, thinking maybe the reason he was acting so weird had to do with something else and not you.

“It's weird though,” Zoë added, not noticing the way your face went stone cold. “Sometimes he'll be staring at me and it's like he's trying, but then he just...doesn't.” Her words lingered in the air, you hated how much they made you yearn for something you never had. You wanted to know what it felt like to be held by him the way she did. You wanted to feel his lips on yours, his hands on your waist. You wanted him to really see you. But you weren't her. You weren't the sunflower in his life and it was crushing you.

“Maybe he's just stressed with the season? He gets intense sometimes…” you offered, knowing that probably wasn't it. All of you were lying. To yourself, and to each other. There was no good answer for any of this. Zoë nodded, continuing to swirl her drink as she pondered. “Maybe,” she sighed, resting her chin on her hand. “I really miss how it used to be when he’d come home from a match and kiss me like I was the only thing he cared about.” 

The thought of Trent kissing her and holding onto her like she was everything he needed made your chest tighten. You spent years being his best friend, hoping for scraps of affection just to not get any at all. Meanwhile, Zoë got all of it, even if it seemed to be fading.

It wasn't fair, but life never is. C'est la vie.

You stood in the stands of Anfield, surrounded by cheering fans. You shoved your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. It was cold but Zoë's words still swirled around in your head, making you shiver. You didn't even know why you were at the match, but you were. You always went to every single one. Watching Trent move across the pitch was fun to look at any other time; he was a force out there. Would he even acknowledge you or look in the crowd for you like he used to? Or would you just be another face lost in a sea of red? You caught sight of Zoë a few rows in front of you, looking picture perfect as always. She was laughing with her friends, showing not a care in the world. Maybe they fixed things?

For the next 90 minutes your mind kept drifting, not focusing on the match at all. You wondered what it would be like having Trent come home to you, kissing you and telling you how much fun he had on the pitch. You used to be that person, albeit not in the way you wanted to be because there were never any kisses shared. Suddenly, it hit you in the middle of the match. You weren't jealous of Zoë, you were jealous of the version of Trent that was open and affectionate toward her. The version you never had and probably would never receive.

The crowd erupted into cheers after Liverpool secured the win. You should've been celebrating along with them but instead, you felt hollow. Your eyes followed Trent as he jogged off the pitch, he was in celebratory mode, joking with the team and laughing. He glanced at the stands for a quick second, and you thought maybe he was looking for you. Your heart did that stupid little flip again, even though you knew better. His eyes landed on Zoë and your stomach dropped. 

You couldn't do this anymore.

Without taking a second to think, you slipped out of your seat and headed to the exit as the noise of the stadium faded into the background. You didn't want to be there when he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. You can't look. Not tonight. Not ever again.

Your phone pinged as you made your way through the crowd but you ignored it. It was probably just a group chat about the match or a text from someone checking to see if you were still at the stadium. It really didn't matter anymore because you weren't coming back. You pushed through the exit, walking for what seemed like forever. You didn't want to stop because stopping meant thinking, and you did not want to think about Trent right now. He was never going to see you the way you saw him and you were done waiting for it to happen. Did he even notice that you were gone?

He noticed. 

The seat you always sat in was empty. He got used to scanning the crowd for you, it was his usual routine. You would always give him a smile or a thumbs up, but tonight there was nothing. 

Zoë was next to him talking about dinner plans, but he wasn't really listening. He couldn't stop thinking about you, and he knew he messed up. Something in his heart tugged, it was a feeling that had been there for a couple of months now. He kept ignoring it because it was easier that way. Pushing you away and acting like nothing changed was easier than admitting he loved you. And now you weren't there.

He glanced at Zoë, who was on her phone posting a picture they took post match. She didn't notice he was quiet, but he knew you would've noticed. You were always there through everything. The good, the bad, the ugly, the wins, and the losses. You were his rock, his constant. But he was so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he was scared to admit you were more than a friend to him. 

You were his wildflower, always there, waiting for him to see you. For the first time he realized he was too busy chasing the sun to notice the beauty growing that was right beside him for years. 

You were his everything, and now you were gone.

[unapologeticpippin]

Storytime on my ATLA reality (p. 1)

I’m really darn shitty at aesthetics, so buckle up you gorgeous asses, because I’m about to tell you the absolute mess that was my life in Avatar.

So I got inspo from a fanfic that I read a while ago, it’s called “Avatar: the Lost Airbender” on wattpad, although I forgot who the author was.

Anway, the gist of it is that I survived the airbender genocide, and I was in kahoots with Koh the face stealer, who allowed me to remain 16 years old physically until I was able to help the Avatar stop the war. (My hair grew white streaks, though.)

Koh only agreed to do that when I promised to bring him something, which I will not disclose because it’s a bit too personal. I also made a deal with a spirit who so desperately wanted peace.

This spirit amplified my airbending powers in exchange for an oath. I had to seal the oath with my blood. The oath consisted of me having to help the avatar stop the war, or else I’d be crippled for the rest of my life. (Not that I minded being crippled, the Spirit just really wanted leverage)

I was left physically unable to interfere with the plans of the Fire Lord. But of course, I tried anyway. Just to be clear, I only get crippled if I DON’T help Aang stop the war.

I wanted to kill the fire lord. Of course I did. He literally commited GENOCIDE on my people. I was angry, and I wanted revenge. So of course, I snuck into the palace (if “snuck into the palace” meant breaking down the doors and flinging guards away with airbending)

I confronted the Fire Lord, and surprise surprise, I was imprisoned. At the time, the show and comics were never really clear on wether Sozin had a wife or not, so I scripted in a wife for him.

She was pregnant, and took pity on me. She released me from prison. We grew rather close, and she often relied on me for a lot of things. A few months later, she gave birth, and died 3 weeks later. (I was devastated)

Sozin decided to keep me around, and he soon came to trust me. I raised Azulon, and watched how his father manipulated his beliefs. The poor innocent child became corrupted, just like his father.

I was sad, of course. The little kid who I used to chase around the fountain became a monster who I couldn’t recognize anymore. He used to call me “auntie”, smile at me brightly, and ask for my advice. Honestly, I was a bit depressed. But I had to pull through if I wanted to help Aang restore what once was. So I did.

I raised Azulon, Iroh, Ozai, Lu Ten, Zuko, and Azula. Iroh was my favorite little sucker. It was really hard to witness when Lu Ten died. Iroh broke. Of course, I was also emotional because I babysat Lu Ten very often.

I’ll have you know that I tried advising the royals many times that their actions had consequences, and even though I was already considered part of the royal family, they had their own agendas, and were often too stubborn to listen.

About bending

Bending is both very physical and spiritual at the same time. I have multiple ATLA realities which I shift to, so I notice that it feels especially flowy when you’re an airbender or waterbender, but all the bending styles have some type of flow that’s very unique, yk?

When you’re waterbending, it’s like a serene experience, letting the water flow through your body. It’s basically like an extention of yourself.

In airbending, It usually works to deflect, so it’s a lot more defensive than offensive. When airbending, it’s best to melt into the feeling and allow the air to guide you (if that makes sense)

While in earth bending, you really have to have a solid form. Stiff like a rock, but still a bit lenient toward your movements. Other bending styles are usually more light footed, but as an earth bender, you have to stand firm. And it feels a lot more like kapow kachow rather than flowy flowy.

Concerning fire bending, it’s really like sudden bursts of energy, but in reality, you have to regulate the energy inside of you. Fire benders are very precise.

Okay this is probably too long, Lmk if you guys want part 2 (if you even cared to read this 😭)

Ty for the request, darling @a-fish-learningtowalk I’ve been DYING to talk about the other realities I live in 😭

[nocturnesanomaly]

Chapter 7: Keep watching the skies

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series: The Divine Violence - chapter 7: Keep watching the skies

Wordcount: 6.4k

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Grooming, Implied sexual assault/rape, non-consensual drug use,

Description: You follow up on your own lead, convinced it's the only way, leading the rest of the 141 on a hunt to find you.

A/N: Not sure I got all the typos, let me know if you find any <3

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

If Price was ever going to grant any of their wishes, Johnny prayed to the lord that it would be to get better beds. Even if he and the taskforce had slept in worse places than this, on the ground in half fallen buildings, in bundles of hay or random items, it didn't keep Johnny from being grumpy about the lack of space and stiff mattresses.

He wasn't sure why Laswell hadn't accounted for the one missing bed. Sometimes he thought that she expected one of them to take the janky couch, but she couldn't really, could she? It was what Simon did most nights, or at least Johnny was pretty sure he did. He typically didn't come into the room during nights, letting Johnny snore away on the little space there already was. Then again, that man never truly slept much on missions.

Simon got the optimal amount of sleep he needed to function for a day, and not a second longer. It was a habit that was hard to coax him out of when he and Johnny went back home. When they had first bought an apartment together, it even took a few weeks before Johnny managed to get Simon into a somewhat normal sleep rhythm.

One thing he found that worked, was letting Simon listen to his heartbeat. It seemed to calm the man for whatever reason. Johnny supposed he understood, it was something consistent, a lifeline in the most literal sense. It assured someone that the other was still alive, that their heart was still beating and their lungs still breathing.

They had both spend a lot of long nights like that. Nights after missions with too close calls, nights fuelled with terrors and horrid images on their minds, nights where it was as simple as the fact that one of them couldn't fall asleep.

Johnny didn't know when Simon had moved from the couch to laying on top of him and squeezing half the air out of his lungs, but he was sure woken up by it. The first rays of the morning sun peeked through the blinds of the window, and highlighted the dust particles floating around in the room.

Simon was a steady weight on top of him. His breathing the only thing inconsistent from his otherwise still form. He reached out, smoothing his hands over the muscles of Simon's back, feeling him sigh further into his hold.

He was still awake then.

"Mornin' wee lad," Johnny whispered teasingly into Simon's ear, conveniently placed right next to him from how he was hiding his face in his neck.

Simon grumbled something unintelligible against Johnny's skin. "Shut it MacTavish..." was about the only thing he could make out of it. It was enough to incite a round of his personal infectious laughter.

The sheets were jumbled between both of their legs, creating an odd display of tangled limbs probably resembling some deformed eldritch horror from an outsider’s perspective.

"Didn't think ye would actually join me...thought ye didn't want affection when spider's around," Johnny mumbles cheekily yet still pulls the massive man even closer. He closes his eyes again, enjoying the weight on his chest, the comforting assurance he'd been craving for all too long.

"They're not here..."

Groggily, Johnny opens his eyes again to catch a peek of the other bed. Surely enough there was no form occupying it, the bed made with military precision. "Mh...got an early start then..." a way too early start even for his own standard.

"They barely sleep..." Simon grumbles and let's out a long huff, resigning to the fact he isn't falling back asleep anytime soon.

"Ye alright love...?" Johnny reaches up to rub his hand through Simon's short hair. A rare occasion for him to take off his mask, even here. Johnny would enjoy every second of it. With gentle movements he guides Simon's head a bit further up so he can place soft kisses to his face. Over his scars, his nose, his cheeks, his lips.

Simon let's out a sigh, lazily kissing him back. "M'fine...jus' exhausted," he did sound it.

Johnny nods quietly, pressing another kiss to his forehead. It had been a long time since they'd taken time just for themselves, their apartment was practically just sitting back collecting dust from how little they managed to actually use it.

"We should take a vacation when we're done here," Johnny suggests.

Simon doesn't get any time to reply before the door is thrown open. Johnny shoots an arm over his shoulders, to shield his face with his arm just in case. The both of them relax seeing Kyle's face linger in the doorway, he looked around the room settling on the two in a pile with a sigh.

"Would you two lovebirds get a move on," Kyle huffs and crosses his arms.

Johnny groans dramatically, making a show of how exhausting Kyle's request really is. "You could always just join us Garrick," he suggests instead, wiggling his eyebrows long enough to make both men groan.

"I'm good," Kyle shakes his head but can hardly hide the smile on his face, "any of you seen Spider? We can't find 'em."

"The fuck do ye mean ye can't find 'em, they can't have gotten that far out," Johnny paces around in the kitchen. His usual energy spiking at the odd occurrence of an unpredictable event. The facts were staring him the face. You were nowhere in the house, nowhere around the house, told nobody and left no note. You were just gone.

You wouldn't just have run away, would you?

He looks over at Simon. He'd put his mask back on, his eyes closed behind it. He still seemed half asleep, nursing a cup of hot tea in his hands.

"They could have gone to town, taking a look around and forgot to tell anyone?" Kyle throws one option on the table. He'd prepared breakfast for himself, sitting opposite of Simon munching down on it.

"We need tae go find them," Johnny says and rubs his nose. There's something uneasy settling in his system, not knowing where you are, what you were up to. He was sure you were capable, that you knew what you were doing, but you had told no one. Even if you were fine, there had to be some stern talk to make sure you wouldn't pull a stunt like this again. Not even Price was liking this at all.

And speaking of Price. Johnny's attention sharpens when the captain comes back into the kitchen. "Laswell heard nothing either, but she mentioned they talked of the mountains" Price shakes his head lightly. "They likely went for them, but we have the town to look into as well."

"We'll split up, cover more ground, they are likely fine on their own but I’d like to have a talk with them so bring them back. Ghost, Soap you take the surrounding area, follow the trail towards the foot of the mountains. Me and Gaz will take a visit to the town, sniff around and see what else we can figure out about this community."

Simon is already on the move, abandoning his still steaming tea at the table. Johnny is hot on his heels, refusing to let him go and make some stupid choice in the heat of it. He still didn't fully understand it. The lingering connection between the two of you, but he knew that it was important. He wasn't going to let him down.

"Listen up My Angel, this is one our newest members. My very own brother, Graham," The Father introduces you to the buffer man standing in front of you. He's taller than him, keeps a short buzzcut you've come to expect from anybody here. It didn't take long before it was enforced on both the men and women, didn't matter what anybody said to it.

The collective has grown significantly and fast. Michael even insisted on being called The Father. You didn't quite understand why. He never explained himself, merely enforced it like he enforced the haircuts. You guessed it was to keep a resemblance between him and God, but you found it more creepy than holy.

His connections expanded a lot more over a very short time. People from far and wide was informed about what you all did here, and they travelled all the way to join you. It was a great feeling. You quickly received a lot more responsibilities for the younger sheep, but you found a lot of the exercises were more cathartic than anything.

"It's good to meet you," Graham speaks your name with a cold indifference. He wasn't very interested in anything that wasn't his brother. He crossed his arms over his chest, looked expectantly at The Father.

You're distracted. That much is obvious to both men on either side of you. Despite doing your best to keep your focus, you keep drifting towards different thoughts. Your gaze continuously looking towards the gate where the mail picked up from town would usually come through.

It's been several weeks, almost two months.

Simon still hasn't answered you.

You felt The Fathers hand gently push against your back, guiding you forward. "Graham trains more unorthodox K9's," he explains while making sure to place you between the both of them, "he specialized in dogs and wolves before he transferred here."

"Don't oversell it Michael," Graham grumbles. He looks off to the side, observing the newer recruits running drills around a makeshift obstacle course.

The Father clears his throat. In all the time you've known him, you've never seen him even close to nervous. "Point remaining...he's going to...train you...afterwards you're going to help him train up the rest," he sounds as if he isn't sure. The final details not yet decided.

Your eyebrows furrow at that. You already have the formal training; you're learning rapidly from shadowing The Father and you don't think you're doing half bad. Still, you needed more training? What else did you have to learn?

"Don't worry your pretty head angel," his hand finds a firm grip on the back on your neck, "just be good, follow orders and everything will turn out just fine."

"Good, again."

Your head was spinning from the pain. He'd had you going for hours at a time, didn't let you stop till you lost consciousness. Your thighs ached, your heart pounding out of your chest. The objective was simple. Shoot the targets he'd set up.

You'd finally completed a full round, and Graham's expression hadn't even changed a bit. He didn't care.

It's not like he was making it any easier on you. Whatever medicine he'd shot into your blood at the start was starting to make your head throb. You could still see the broken glass of the syringe laying amidst the sand and dirt. It glinted in the lowering sunlight.

The wooden targets were starting to get this bad habit of taking form, of looking more and more like moving people. People with angry faces, people with hurtful words, people with guns and ill intent. Around them the shadows crept, licking up against the figures and swallowing them hole. You weren't given much time to question as you were flung through the obstacle course another time.

In the beginning he put on a song on a speaker. An older one, slow and rather beautiful, a love song you think.

It's been on loop ever since. He seems obsessed with it, humming along with the tune for the hundred time as you run through the course. You hit your targets with a shake in your arm, making you miss a few a couple of times. It staggers your progress, and it's like you can feel his displeased look in the back of your neck.

You keep going, shooting at the shadowy figures that remain stationary. He's not saying anything you don't think, but still, you can hear his comments in your ears.

Do better

You're better than this

Wrong

Follow my orders

You miss the last target, by a stroke of bad luck. The ground comes closer all too rapidly when your body decides to give out. It refused to remain standing, to continue the strain that could no longer be received properly.

You heave for air, your grip on the gun all too lose. It falls to the ground and you just manage to push it out of the way before you collapse all the way onto your back. The air is too warm for this, your body already drenched in sweat.

He comes to hover above you.

You don't have time to squirm away.

Graham pulls up your shirt, takes his knife and adds another cut next to the other five. Your scream falls on deaf ears. He was ruthless in his violence. He knew exactly where to cut, knew exactly how deep to make it so you'd lose blood without dying. He timed the seconds in your blood loss, he kept an obsessive eye on your movements, your expressions, until he knew your tells better than you did.

He was lethally precise.

Graham hauls you back up to your feet, shoving the gun back in your hand and turns you back to the obstacle course.

"Cull the herd."

Somewhere along the way, the vials became less mandatory. Mr. Graham stopped forcing them on you one random night. It should've relieved you, no longer being woken up before you normally did with violent movements and a syringe pressed into your skin, but the abrupt change dysregulates you.

You still didn't sleep easy, expecting to be unnaturally woken up by either Mr. Graham or The Father with whatever they had decided they needed from you. Not having the altering substance in your system started feeling weird. You began to crave it again, the precision you had with it, the strength and clearness in your mind. You missed how clearly your targets would be highlighted for you.

So, you started injecting it on your own.

Mr. Graham never objected to it. He supplied you whenever you were low with nothing more than a knowing smile and a strong hand on your shoulder. Whether he ever regretted it, he never told you, but he did notice the change in your mental state. The rapid decline like falling down a ladder, you'd grab unto it, try to save yourself, only for it throw you off once again.

At first, he didn't mind it, even gave you an extra length of patience whenever you'd start to space out outside of fighting, or when you'd take longer to process his words when things were too calm for you.

But then you started to get snappy, too eager for the fight your body ached for.

You hadn't even realized it was the wrong thing before you had done it. Maybe the day had been too long, maybe you were overworked, too tired. It didn't matter, it was you that fired the shot. You had taken the injection earlier than usual, double the dose so it would last until training.

As always, Mr. Graham had met you on the field but he wasn't alone this time. The Father, being ever so gracious, decided to observe you both this time. You had stood dutifully next to Mr. Graham, your head bowed, posture straight, your mind a strange mix of muddy and sharp. Shadows crept at the corner of your vision, making you twitch.

You felt unsteady. Your trigger finger twitching with an odd need to hunt, to expel the uncomfortable energy swirling in you, an energy that needed to be used. All the excess adrenaline seemed to even be noticed by The Father.

"Are you alright, My Angel?"

Mr. Graham gives you a look that's hard to discern. Like he's trying to figure out where on the scale you are from collapsing and going rabid. He gets his answer in the worst way he'd have wanted it.

Something too real moves in your vision, rounding the corner of a building. A small shadowed figure, too stark in the contrast of the white wall. It smiled cruelly, moved erratically and it triggered every sensor in your brain. You act without thinking.

A loud squeaking sound comes from the creature. It collapses to the ground like a dying animal. The shadows slink away revealing the silhouette of a dog, laying gasping on the ground, whimpering and clinging to the life you took from it.

None of them react at first.

Three pairs of eyes watching the life drain. One shocked, one calm, one furious.

You don't even hear the angry words coming out of Mr. Graham's mouth. Your world is spinning, your head is buzzing and you still haven't quite recognized what you had just done. Which of them you had just killed.

He grabs your arm, drags you along to no protest from The Father. You don't remember the way, or where he took you. You only remember the pain of being thrown into the dark room of stone walls. There's no window, no light, and nobody else.

"I'll come get you once you've learned to calm the fuck down."

Those words are all he leaves you with before closing the door. Your breathing is unsteady when you lean against the cold wall and slowly lower yourself to the ground. It's unnerving. You know they're there. They're always there. Watching you, taunting you, baiting you into doing something.

They didn't make noise before; they didn't talk before but now in the darkness they still feel the need to make their presence known.

Calm down calm down calm down

You don't know whether it's you or something else that keeps repeating it. Your heart rate elevates, your body starts to shake. You try to scream out for help but your lips don't move. You don't even hear the little whimpers coming from your throat.

They creep around in the dark. They inch closer. They caress your skin. They fester inside your head.

Spider?

You freeze up in your corner at the familiar voice inside your mind. You don't want to look because you know who you'll see.

"No no no no no no."

Your hands clutch around your head, pulling at your hair.

"Go away!"

I brought food

"No go away! Please! Don't- don't do this."

Go on, I could hear your growling stomach from the gate

"Please!"

I made it

"You're not- you're- not- not-"

Did you hurt yourself?

"Leave me alone! You're not real!"

Whenever you're ready, little Spider

The snow has a blinding purity that's always mesmerized you. It stains so easily, the slightest touch disturbs the perfectly laid coat, creating chaos in the pillows of comfort and sanity. You'd spent most of the morning, most of the day, trekking through that purity and soiling it with the dirt underneath your boots.

There had always been a specific kind of thrill in your chest when you defied orders directly given. A small part of you taken back in your own hands, for better or for worse. You used to thrive so well under watch and order. Even if that's not the case anymore, you'd really ought to listen to the words of your betters.

At least then maybe you wouldn't be here. Standing as still as a statue, having a staring contest with a wolf and its red eyes. They're terribly vibrant. Reminiscent of the blood you could spill now.

Your hand clutched around your gun, ready to move at the order of a split-second decision. You're not here to hunt, you have to remind yourself. Never mind the wolf, never mind your thoughts. It doesn't matter that you used to hunt with them, that they used to sniff out your target for you.

It doesn't matter It doesn't matter It doesn't matter It doesn't matter it does-

The thing isn't even full grown. You'd have been more inclined to leave it alone if it wasn't for the bleeding cross running down it's snout. The red mixed with its fur in a beautiful symmetry. It's growling at you, you think. It makes you wonder if this is what your old targets used to feel when the wolves would corner them. Unlikely. They usually kept a face mixed with fear and hopelessness. Runaway members of the collective never lasted long under the knife.

There's a part of you that doesn't dare look away from it. The fatigue in your eyes almost do it for you, the snow around the creature makes it melt into the surroundings. The wolf was too focused, too interested in the way you looked, in the way you smelled.

He's still training them

They were likely right. If Mr. Graham was still alive, still with the collective, he'd be doing what he'd always been doing.

Cull the herd

Be the guide, the cold example

Cull the herd

And if that was the case, it wouldn't only be wolves lurking around out here. You'd need to relay this to Price, or Laswell, without rousing too much suspicion. It was a mere hunch, a feeling in your gut, but one you'd learnt to trust long ago.

You start to slowly move backwards, if you were tactical about it, you could still come out of this unscathed. Something flickers in the corner of your vision. All it takes is a moments distraction and the creature lunges at you.

The gunshot echoes in your ears. Your instincts took over, fired for you, and in a rare moment of luck you actually manage to hit. The wolf falls to the snow, its left eye is half gone and blood oozes out of it. The snow becomes dirty in its blood.

You take a step closer to it, observing the dead creature. The cross is gone. Something else flickers in the corner of your vision, something bigger and a lot faster. Luck doesn't strike twice, favouring others in a moment of misfortune.

Sharp teeth sink into your shin. You cry out, despite the second wolf only managing to hang onto more clothes than skin, it still penetrates. Scalding pain shoots up your leg. A second gunshot sounding out. You're not sure how you managed to hit it properly this close, but the wolf falls to the ground next to its mate.

You sink to the ground next to them, breathing heavily as if you'd run half a marathon. Your brain runs loops around itself trying to understand what had happened, why both of them had attacked like that, and why the bleeding crosses on their heads were no longer there.

Was it a trick from him? A trick of your mind?

It would take a lot for you to even attempt to call yourself sane any longer but this felt out of hand. Despite your own distorted reality, when it came to the cult you could usually rely on the rampant voices in your head. Were you really turning this paranoid?

With groans and sputters, you manage to move yourself around enough to take a look at your leg. It could've been worse; the damage wasn't deep but you wouldn't be making it to the mountains like this. You let out a curse to the heavens. You'd been so close to achieving your goal before somebody came looking for you, and now you'd have to backtrack.

You had the two options, and you knew you had to choose the boring one.

A higher pitched scream in the distance catches your attention, followed along with a loud splash and arguing not that far from you. The snow carried the sound a bit further than normal but it wouldn't be more than a minute’s walk from your location.

And just when you thought you could make your way back with no complications.

You hoist yourself back on your feet, letting out a hiss as your leg protests to the movement with more pain shot up all the way to your thigh. You lean on a nearby tree, perking your ears to listen to the nearby voices.

At first you can't make out what they're saying but...they're familiar.

Simon and Soap.

Your stomach drops.

Price must have sent them out to look for you. Part of you scolds yourself for not leaving some sort of note or message. No matter how elusive. At least then they might not have come out for you. You could've gotten further, if it hadn't been for the sake of those pesky wolves.

You run a hand over your face, the gloves taking some of the fallen snow off your eyebrows. You walk in the direction of their voices, using their argument to steer you in the right direction.

There was safety in numbers now that they were out here. You weren't keen on being mauled over by another pack of wolves.

"For fucks sake Johnny, I told you to watch where you're placing those feet of yours!"

"Not my fault the bloody stones are so slippery in this weather!"

"Bloody hell just get your arse up!"

You peek out between a set of bushes, the thicket giving you enough cover to observe the situation before you approached them. You tilt your head, your eyebrows turning a bit up in surprise at the sight.

Soap, coming out the water from one of the deeper creeks, completely wet.

Your lip twitches, and you feel the urge to bubble up with laughter. You don't know how he fell in, and you don't really need to know to see the entire event as hilarious.

"Bloody river, stupid weather, stupid snow" he grumbles angrily as he tries to dust off the water like it was a simple speck of dirt.

Simon sighs heavily, his entire gear moving along up and down with him. "You need to go back, gonna get hypothermia if you stay out here," he says sternly. There's concern laced in the order, but it's an undeniable order nonetheless.

"No way...am not letting you stay out here alone, Price told us tae look for 'em together," Soap protests.

"Don't need to look much further," you sigh and speak up.

You emerge from the thicket, startling the both of them at the same time. They're drawn guns are trained on you in an instant, and in return your own gun is trained on Soap. Force of habit and all that.

Simon relaxes when he gets a proper look at you. Soap following soon after.

"Good, you're not dead then" he speaks in a relieved manner. Did he really think you'd act that recklessly? Probably.

"You really think I'd let myself get killed over something that idiotic?"

He looks at you for a moment, but not because he needed to give it any thought. No, his eyes aren't displaying a complex need for that, because he knows the answer. He's giving you the chance to take it back, to explain the limp in your walk. You don't.

"No," he says just as sternly in the crass voice of his.

"Ghost is right," you say and turn towards soap and his half assed attempt at squeezing water out of his gear, "we need to get you back home...get you warmed up."

"Aye."

The entirety of the town is already giving Price the creeps. He's seen his fair share of things in his time, the awful, the creepy, the monstrous. But the feeling this town gives him? Unlike most things he's encountered.

There's no hostility, nothing but the purest of hospitality even for mere tourists. There's something wrong with the smiles, their incessant need to accommodate practically anything he asks for.

He opens the door to the car, holding the two coffee cups against his chest. Garrick reaches over, takes them from him when he gets himself comfortable in the front seat. "I think I got your order right...don't kill me if it isn't, got a bit distracted in line," Price grumbles and leans back in his seat.

Garrick takes a sip of his own, then handing back Price's cup to him. "It's just fine cap, thanks" he mumbles and drinks some more. He let's out a satisfied groan and relaxes back into the seat. "Despite how weird this place is, at least they know how to make coffee."

"Hm that we can agree on," Price takes a sip of his. It's not bad, but he's definitely had better. The shop he went to would do better serving tea on the menu as well.

He'd parked the car in one of the open parking lots, not many seemed to come here. Most of the day it remained practically empty except for the few people coming to and from town. They'd spent the last two hours walking through town, posing as the tourists they undeniable were today. They hadn't learnt much, except for the fact the locals remembered faces too well for comfort.

Though it was to be expected, the town wasn't too big.

"Walked by the church..." Price says with a sigh, "struck up conversation with a few of the locals changing up the sign outside."

"Got anything useful out of them?" Garrick asks as if he'd conducted a whole interrogation.

"They've got daily mass...but most people come on Sundays as to be expected," he tells him before taking another sip, "a few of us should attend on Sunday."

Garrick let's out a louder groan, likely already picking up what he's putting down. The man clearly didn't want to, but like anything else they'd do here in this town, it was all work. Just work.

Price takes another long gulp of his coffee. The energy barely ever worked for him these days, the stress getting to his bones. He looks out towards the bustling little market a bit further up the long road. There wasn't many, but most of them would come through the market at least once a day. Garrick had mentioned a few familiar faces he'd spoken to in his other trips to town.

"Captain, do you think they'll...." he goes quiet, hesitating to finish his question.

"They'll find them," Price says assuredly.

"That's not..."

The captain doesn't bother looking at him, gives him a moment to think his question through. "Speak your mind, Garrick," he urges.

"How much do we actually know about them?" he knows why he's asking. Price had his own doubts, his own concerns, when Laswell first presented your file on his desk and insisted this was the only way.

He hadn't fully shed his doubts yet.

"We know enough, sergeant" it's not the answer he wants nor the answer he needs but it's the answer Price has for him. He'd have to do more digging, for the safety of the team, for the prosperity of the mission itself. You were too big a mystery, one where the only thing he could rely on was Laswell's word.

"They've been helpful, they'll continue to be helpful, it'll have to be enough for now." Price adds on shortly after.

 Garrick says nothing in return, simply continues to drink his coffee dissatisfied.

Price starts up the car, intending to have the rest of the way home in silence. And it was, much to his admiration. The sergeant could have a talkative tongue when he got excited about something, he'd think this whole situation would give him a few things to say.

Instead, it leaves him a quiet contemplating mess. Much like the rest of them.

He only ever speaks up in a low grumble when he sees the tip of the house revealing itself in the distance, only to render himself quiet once again.

The silence stretches on until Kyle sees the three figures bickering at the front door. "Isn't that..." he trails out as he realizes they probably don't have the key for the home. He does his best at holding back his laughter. It earns him a side glare from Price.

"Seems like they found 'em."

Price turns the car around and parks it in its usual spot next to the temporary home. "The fuck happened to you?!" Garrick says bemused by the sight of Soap.

Price does raise a questioning brow as he exits the car after Garrick. They were only supposed to go get Spider, why the man was wet as a dog was lost on him.

"Fell in the river..." Soap grumbles.

Garrick fails to hold in his laughter this time around, snorting on the spot. "I know you like water but maybe you should stay away from the literal ice water mate," he claps Soap on the back a few times.

Soap pushes him away annoyed, "agh away n' bile yer heid!"

Price rolls his eyes, pushing past the two to unlock the front door. As soon as it's open, you dart past him to head inside in the warmth with a surprising urgency. He looks to Simon, coming to stand beside him to move inside as well.

"They're fine...mostly fine...we're all fine," he assures him.

He eyes you suspiciously. His boys might've said you were fine, you might've said you were fine to them. Little observation told him that your limping leg wasn't all that fucking fine.

He followed you out back, the rest remaining in the living room to keep MacTavish warm. "Spider, slow it up" he spoke up causing you to freeze in place. He walked with steady steps until he could place himself in front of you.

"Come, I need to talk to you, and we need to take a look at that," he gestures to the leg that has a stained pantleg. He turns back around to walk to his and Garrick's room. He doesn't bother looking back to see if you're following, he has a deep-rooted feeling that you will.

You may be a rulebreaker when you get the confidence, but there's still obedience in you. From where he doesn't understand just yet, but it doesn't take all of his wisdom to gather a lot went down when you were hunting the cult on your own.

He holds the door open for you. Your eyes meet as you make your way inside, there's that stubbornness he's used to seeing in Simon. "Sit," he points to one of the beds pressed into the corner while he closes the door.

You do as he says, your voice stuck in your throat. He rummages through the cabinets, finds the first aid kit he always saved a few of. He didn't even need to tell you to roll up your pantleg, you'd taken the hint way before.

The wounds weren't deep, but whatever you'd been bitten by had been out to be vicious. "You'll need to get a doctor to look at this...lucky for you the town's got a local practice."

You tense up at that, dodge his touch as he tries to keep your leg steady enough to clean. "It's fine..." you say hastily, "It just needs to be cleaned I don't need to see anyone."

"Yes you do and that's an order," Price is stern in his voice.

One thing was to go out of your way to disobey the laid-out deal between the two of you, to run away to look for clues on your own, but this? He wasn't about to let you walk about with an injury that'll make you hurt yourself even more.

You go quiet at that. It's enough for him to grab your calf and put a wet rag against your wound. You flinch but make no sound. Your muscles are tense under his grip and your eyes shut tight.

He allows you the moment of silence, understanding the discomfort of it. He doubted you'd be able to answer anything if he even asked you right now. He cleans off the excess blood, checking the toughness of the teeth punctures. It wasn't as serious as it looked, but you still needed a checkup, he wasn't changing his mind about that.

He removes the rag, and binds the wound. "Did you find anything?" he doesn't look at you as he asks, merely focusing on cleaning up the opened supplies.

"No..." you speak in a low whisper; he wouldn't have heard unless he was this close.

You don't elaborate, and he doesn't find the energy in him to ask.

"Next time you want to go on an adventure like that you take someone with you, or at the very least inform me," he's back to speaking sternly, the voice of a captain that's been carefully crafted over the years in service.

"I can't have rogue soldiers running around, is that understood?" he looks up to catch your eyes.

You hold his stare with an uncomfortable intensity, trying to be as intimidating as he is.

"Yes sir."

He pats your calf, tugging down your pant leg once again. That time you held back your flinch, but it was obvious in your eyes to him. He takes a moment to observe you, trying to dig through your rougher exterior, to see if you were really softer under in it all.

Had you been soft once?

He calls your name in a quiet voice, makes a point to use a softer voice with rounder edges.

"There's parts of your file not even I have access to," he starts slow, careful, then pauses. You're wary of him, more than the others. He chalks it up to his authority over you, the one you can't quite find your place underneath.

"What's haunting you that much...that you won't even let me in on surprise plans...we're all a team here we-"

You rise from your seat with no warning. You're quick to make your way around him, careful to not step on any of the scattered things on the floor. He doesn't stop you nor does he continue what he was about to pry out of you.

He understands in some underhanded way. He'd dealt with Simon a lot longer than he'd dealt with you. There were undeniable similarities yet still something entirely different between the two.

"You'll go to town first thing tomorrow morning, I'll get Ghost to take you" he speaks up from his seat on the floor. You stop somewhere close to the door, listening to his words, his order. You don't answer him, but he knows you heard him, that you'll heed him this once.

You leave the room, closing the door with a care for potential noise.

Likes, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, love ya! <3

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[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

Promises I Intend To Keep 3

Nanami Kento x Reader

Previous Next

Song: End of Beginning by Djo

Nanami’s eyes never left the screen of his computer. He listened to the familiar footsteps inside his office. He didn’t have to look up to know it was his high school friend, Haibara Yu.

“Anything?” Nanami asked. Haibara shook his head with a frown. His frown deepened when Nanami slammed his fist on his desk hard. “It’s been 9 years!”

“We’ll find her,” he said swiftly. Nanami just nodded, eyes remaining on the chord bracelet you gave him years ago. “Are you sure she’s still in Japan though?”

“Yes,” Nanami said as the two walked to the parking garage. “She was sent up north, hours away from where we lived. My mother paid an absurd amount of money for their house.” Haibara nodded.

“Her father passed away five years ago,” he mentioned.

“He was involved in a car accident. His fault though since he was drinking. God, it was all I’ve seen him do.”

“You met the man?” Haibara asked curiously. Nanami nodded.

“He was always nice around me,” he answered. Haibara nodded and flipped through the files in hand.

“You never saw her in Todai.” Nanami shook his head. “I’ll do more investigating. Unless you need me to do something else? I think we’re caught up on schedule with meetings and what not.”

“Find her. Please.” Nanami’s voice softened at the end with vulnerability.

“I won’t disappoint. I’ll call Gojo-san and Geto-san.

“Tell Geto-san to help out when he’s done interviewing the new recruits. Have him send me the files immediately once he’s done.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, Yu.”

“No problem, Kento.”

Nanami watched Haibara leave the office first. He stared at the chord bracelet on his left wrist. He remembered you putting it on him. A night where his mother was out of town and you slept over while she was away. He checked his phone. Old photos from before that he never got rid of. Photos of you and him before you left. The smile on your face that gave him constant motivation to find you. The smile he has been longing to see for the past 9 years.

“I’ll find you, sweetheart. I promise.”

He sticks to his normal routes around Tokyo. He refuses to explore more and find a whole bunch of new restaurants and stores. He needed you around. He wanted to get lost with you like he planned to years ago. He parked at another parking garage to quickly grocery shop before he went back home.

He can’t help but to always remember the times when his mother was out on business trips and the two of you would grocery shop together. You were always determine to cook him dinner. And he was always eager to help you.

“Wait! I promise! This will taste good!” you exclaimed as you tried to add Cajun seasoning to the Alfredo sauce. Nanami laughed, gently and slowly letting you go. “Okay, a little bit at a time won’t hurt.” You gave him a small spoonful to try and Nanami nodded with approval.

“Fine, put more.”

“Told you so, Kento!”

“You’re here. I know you’re here,” he kept muttering to himself. He looked back at his phone, finding you in places that he ever thought he would see you.

He was used to the stares. It was like high school except this time it was around the world. Everyone knew who he was. A young and successful CEO of 7:3 Security at the age of 27 that he built from the ground up. A man with ambition. His goal to make it to the top so he could find you.

“Nanami-san, can we have an autograph?” Nanami gave the group of females a small smile and nodded. He signed their small note pads before giving them a bow before walking away.

He grabbed a cart, starting off in the produce section of the store. He made mental checks of everything that he needed for home. Onions. Garlic. Pepper. Potatoes. You name it. But his mind went blank. The familiar chime that he loves to hear years ago.

“That’s such great news! I think you’ll get the job, Shoko.” His ears perked. He was sure of that voice. He looked around, but the grocery store was crowded. “I mean, as long as I’m allowed to just sit around and hang out I’ll stop by every now and then. Ieiri Shoko, quit being nervous. You’ll get the job.”

He shook his head. He had to be hearing things. It was almost too easy. His eyes wandered until they landed on a woman on the phone. His eyes remained on her. He really looked at her. The features he studied everyday, there was no doubt that it was you. He abandoned his shopping cart, striding his way towards you. But he suddenly stopped when a a male of average height and dark hair approached you. He raised an eyebrow. He knew him. And you knew him. You smiled and spoke happily to him. He felt a quick and tight squeeze in his heart. But nonetheless, he approached you two.

“Higuruma-san,” Nanami called. Higuruma looked up, his aloof expression mirroring Nanami’s as he nodded in response.

“Nanami-san,” Higuruma responded. You turned to look up at Nanami. You didn’t know how to explain it. Your heart was suddenly racing while an intense feeling coursed through your body. Your mouth felt dry, your body also numb.

And Nanami saw you. He paid attention to your reaction. The dumbfounded and puzzled expression you held. He never expected it unless his appearance changed throughout the years. But he knew he didn’t change much, just like you. Softly, he called your name. And your eyes widened. You bowed deeply.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nanami-san,” you said softly with your soft smile. His heart stopped.

Meet?

“You two know each other?” Higuruma asked. Nanami nodded but you shook your head. It only made Nanami frown.

“You’re…familiar,” you admitted slowly. You knew you did. You had a good feeling that you do know. Nanami nodded and cleared his throat. His eyes scanned you again. The golden, infinity necklace remained around your neck and the diamond ring he gave remained on your left finger. He felt a bit relieved.

“We went to the same high school,” Nanami answered. You giggled.

“We did?” Nanami nodded.

“But you moved.” You felt a hard tug on your chest and Nanami caught the split second of your pained expression. It was as if he could feel your pain. It urged him to hold you, but he knew that he couldn’t at the moment. He watched you give him a small yet soft smile.

“I heard you hired Hiromi-kun as your defense attorney,” you said brightly.

Hiromi-kun…

“Good choice, Nanami-san. He’s one of the best.” Nanami gave you a tight smile and nodded.

“Yes,” Nanami said and looked at Higuruma. He hated the affectionate look Higuruma was giving you. He respected the man, but, at this moment, he couldn’t respect him. “Top of Japan.” Higuruma nodded.

“Thank you, Nanami-san.” A phone suddenly rang. Higuruma suddenly took a step to the side and answered his call. “I’ll be right back, sweetie.” You nodded before turning back to Nanami.

Sweetie…

“You two are…?”

“Ah, h-he just calls me that,” you said nervously as you fiddled with your ring. “When I moved, he became my only friend in high school. When I came to Tokyo, he hired me on the spot as a secretary at his office.” He felt relieved. But it bugged him to not know your feelings for him. He could easily see it through Higuruma.

“Just friends?” he blurted out. He mentally winced at himself.

“Just friends,” you said reassuringly with a smile. You had a far away look, leaving Nanami mesmerized. “He reminds me of someone important. You know what? You two remind me of each other. It’s almost like a coincidence.” You giggled. Nanami softly smiled. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned around to see Higuruma.

“My client wants to meet right now,” he said. “You’ll be alright?” You nodded.

“I’m okay. Thank you, Hiromi-kun,” you replied. Higuruma gave you a soft smile before looking at Nanami expressionlessly.

“I’ll see you around,” Higuruma said. Nanami nodded.

“You as well,” he replied. The two of you watched him walk out of the store. You turned back to Nanami. His eyes were soft and warm, making you feel warm as well. You felt your heart race that you almost felt dizzy.

“Maybe I’ll see you again one day,” you said. You were about to walk away when he didn’t respond, but Nanami immediately reached out to you and held your arm. You inaudibly gasped. The warmth of his hand felt so familiar, warm, and safe. It made your thoughts go haywire.

How will it feel to be wrapped in his arms?

“T-The necklace and ring. They look beautiful on you.” Your cheeks turned pink. The compliment coming from him. It didn’t seem like it was said to be polite because he is the CEO.

“Thank you, Nanami-san,” you said with a soft smile. “I don’t remember who gave them to me. But, I know deep down that it’s the most important things I have. Is that strange?” Nanami felt his heart skip a beat that he smiled.

“Not at all,” he said softly. He loves the blush on your cheeks, knowing that he was the only one able give you that effect. Back then and right now. Not Hiromi Higuruma. Just Nanami Kento.

And you enjoy his presence. All you want to do is to spend more time with him.

“Want to grocery shop together?” you asked curiously. So yes, you decided to keep him around. Nanami chuckled.

“I would love to. Follow me. My cart is over there. What do you need to get?”

“Ingredients for Cajun chicken and broccoli Alfredo.” His heart skipped a beat.

“That’s my favorite.”

“Mine too! It’s one of the best meals I can cook, Nanami-san!” It bothered Nanami to no end. It felt too easy. Finding you was too easy. But as it was, he found you a challenge. Not knowing who he is just became that extra obstacle he needed to take care of.

“So…you don’t remember me?” he asked. You shook your head. “I guess since there’s a bunch of us at the high school.” You nodded.

“Ever since I got into a car accident, things have been different,” you said as you picked up items for dinner.

“Car accident?” Nanami questioned, worry evident in his voice. Again, you felt a skip of your heartbeat.

“Five years ago,” you answered. “It killed my father. It was a pretty bad accident and the doctors and nurses were surprised that I survived. I couldn’t remember anything at first, but memories were slowly coming back. But I know they’re not all back. I can feel it.”

“I’m sorry that happened.”

“And it sucks because I don’t even remember where I actually grew up. I don’t know where my mom is or where I got the jewelry. And this note. I have the most encouraging note and it makes me love the person who wrote it.” You don’t know why you were telling Nanami this. It felt so easy to tell him. “I’m sorry, I’m ranting so much about it.”

“N-No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he said. You gave him a shy laugh. “What made you come to Tokyo?”

“I just knew that I needed to go to Tokyo. I paid off the loans that my father owed and refused to pay, quit my job at the cafe, signed up to Todai, and got a job with Hiromi-kun before I left. I have a purpose here. I just know it.”

“If you need help, I’m willing to help.” You blushed again.

“I-I appreciate it, Nanami-san. But I should be okay.” He nodded in response. His mind was still swirling with the fact that you were right here next to him. It felt both like a dream yet a nightmare. You didn’t know him. You forgot about him.

“At least let me drive you back to your place,” he said.

“I live close by, Nanami-san.” It frustrated him, feeling useless as usual. “But, I would love one! I am pretty tired. Thank you so much.”

The car ride was quiet but you liked the silence. It felt comforting. You gave him the quick directions to your apartment building. You felt hesitant once he parked at the front. He felt compelling. It was like your body had a mind of its own that you couldn’t leave his side. Your heart was racing.

“Is everything okay?” he asked worriedly. You nodded.

“It’s just…I—Come over for dinner? Since you drove me home, it’s the least I can do. If you have the time, of course. Maybe a rain check on it? You’re a busy man and all,” you blabbered. You blushed and felt very flustered from your sudden request. You shyly stared at your lap as you rotated the ring on your finger.

“We’ll do a raincheck,” he replied softly. “I want to try that Alfredo dish you’re planning to make.” You looked at him with wide eyes. A smile appeared on your face and you nodded.

“Yeah! I can do that! I-I’ll see you soon, Nanami-san!”

You grabbed your bags from the back. With one last wave, you entered the building. He waited until he couldn’t see your figure. You were safe. You were okay. And for that, he can rest easy for now. Immediately, he pulled his phone out. He dialed Haibara’s number.

“I need hospital information from her five years ago,” Nanami ordered.

“Yes boss. Geto-san sent you the files of the best candidates, as well.”

“Perfect. By the way, you guys don’t have to search for her.”

“Oh? Why not?” Haibara heard a soft chuckle from his end.

“I found her.”

“Kento! That’s great news!”

“It is but…she doesn’t remember me,” Nanami confessed. “She was involved in the car accident with her father. She admitted to memory loss.” He heard a sigh from his friend.

“Alright boss. I’ll get on it after dinner if that’s alright.”

“Of course. There’s no rush.” Nanami went through the files. A certain name popped up that caught his attention. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nanami immediately dialed the number. At the same time, he watched a woman with long brunette hair, straight navy blue slacks, a blue turtle neck, and low heeled shoes stop at the front entrance.

“Nanami Kento of 7:3 Security. May I speak to Ieiri Shoko?” He mentally chuckled to see the shock on the woman’s face.

“This is her,” she said a little too quickly and excitedly.

“I would like to offer you a job at the company. You will be receiving full benefits by the time you start working. Vacation and sick time is fixed and resets every year—-“

“I would love to accept the offer, Nanami-san!” Nanami mentally chuckled.

“Perfect. You can call or text me back from this number. I will send you onboarding paperwork through email and you can email everything back to along with questions that pop up to mind.”

“Y-Yes, sir! Thank you so much! I promise you, I will not disappoint you!” Nanami softly chuckled.

“Alright. Have a goodnight, Ieiri-san.”

Shoko immediately dialed a number on her phone. The sound of your name escaped her lips rather loudly before she entered the building. Nanami smiled. Did he become biased? He didn’t care at this point.

[blueishspace]

Looped Sun 12

Loop #380

Mumbo: Ok, it is done!

Scar: What is- WHAT IS THAT!?!

Grian: Is that why you needed the power stone?

Mumbo: It sure is mate. I present to you the new and improved powers stone powered Buttercups mech.

Grian: It's great!

Mumbo: Doc stands no chance against it!

Scar: Wooho! big and large! My favorite combo!

Mumbo: ... U-uh. R-right moving on.

Scar: What!?

Loop #383

Scott: Thomas sanders, right?

Thomas: Yeah? A looper right? Whose place did you take?

Scott: Oh right right, I'll be your Creativity for this loop.

Thomas: Oh... can you tell me why my friends had animal features this time around?

Scott: Oh that is a thing from our loop that seems to have carried over.

Thomas: ... Wait...Ours?

Scott: Right! Morality!

Jimmy: Hello! First fused loop for me so I'm a bit nervous... Why didn't you just call me by name though.

Scott: Easiest way to introduce your role. Next, Logic!

Mumbo: H-here! I uh... I really should have been anxiety though.

Jimmy: Eh, I see it. You are like, really smart Mumbo.

Mumbo: Oh... thanks.

Scott: Well, since you mentioned her, Anxiety!

Pearl: Hello mate.

Thomas: My anxiety being australian I didn't expect.

Pearl: Yeah... did you know about this australian spider that can kill you and is basically impossible to see?

Thomas: This is going terribly.

Jimmy: Listen It's not that bad, right?

Thomas: ...

Scott: It is pretty bad... Thomas' sides are all fragments of his personality but we aren't...we are complex people It's difficult to do their job.

Thomas: ...

Scott: Take me, sure I'm colorful and creative and prideful and all about that jazz but I'm also rational. I can't give Thomas the same delusional and completely fantastical type of pure creativity and imagination that he needs.

Jimmy: Well I think I'm doing a good job as morality!

Thomas: You are It's just...

Scott: You are also prideful and get weird when you feel insulted so your flavour. morality is too emotional, you also aren't used to killing being a bad thing as the life series has multiple respawns and Empires has infinite which means that the most basic morals of don't kill and don't steal don't really come to you naturally.

Jimmy: O-oh... well, I'm trying.

Scott: And Mumbo?

Mumbo: Y-yeah?

Scott: I mean it in the nicest way...Logic is supposed to reign Anxiety in, not akwardly stutter whenever Pearl makes a point.

Pearl: What can I say, I'm right.

Scott: And Pearl, I know you are having fun with this but you are treapassing into intrusive thoughts territories way too often.

Pearl: Do I? I'm sorry mate, I didn't mean to.

Thomas: It's...it's fine, I understand It's hard I just-

Mumbo: U-uh can I say something?

Thomas: Y-yeah?

Mumbo: Uh...you do know Scott scottish accent is not really that strong right?

Scott?: ... Frick... Well, I knew it wouldn't last forever.

Thomas: Huh!?

Grian: Hello Thomas, I just couldn't stay back while...this happened.

Pearl: G! You cunt! You didn't tell us you were here!

Grian: Sorry, sorry, just wanted to keep the surprise a surprise.

Mumbo: Grian!? You are here!

Grian: Sure thing Mumbo.

Thomas: How did I not-

Grian: What can I say? I'm a looper, I'm really good at lying. Now, I have a few ideas to fix these issues.

Thomas: Ok, ok this is fine Scott I need some ideas for the video-

Scott: Already on it! Are you-

Scar: Have you ever tought about tasting human flesh? I heard and totally have no experience with it that it tastes like pig.

Thomas: What!? No!

Pearl: Scar!?! Grian, did you know about him being here too!?

Grian: Yep, sure thing.

Pearl: And you didn't say anything.

Grian: Funnier this way.

Scar: Ok, ok, what if you stole a bone from a grave and sold it to one of their family members!

Thomas: Nooo!

Scar: Hm...

Scott: Got anything else?

Scar: ... Uh...murder?

Thomas: Not happening.

Loop #387

Jimmy had known about this type of loop from Grian, still waking up with healing powers and stuck in a tower was a lot. Still Grian said he just needed to reach the castle, reunite with this loop's version of his parents and get mother gothel apprehended. Which he did, in record time he might add which meant he was surprised when the loop didn't finish immediately when Grian said it would. It lasted a while more actually, he even got a special guard-

Jimmy: Pearl!?

Pearl: Jimmy!?! Of course you are taking Rapunzel's place.

Jimmy: You are my guard now?

Pearl: Yeah, It's my sworn duty to protect you.

Jimmy: So... why did the loop not end?

Pearl: This is the extended version of the loop mate.

Jimmy: Oh. Oh! Ohhhh.

Pearl: ...

Jimmy: I don't know anything about it.

Pearl: Oh right, well... follow my lead, mate and you'll be good.

Jimmy: Ok!

Jimmy: That's...different from the healing incantation.

Pearl: Yeah, don't read it.

Jimmy: What why not?

Pearl: It's not going to be good.

Jimmy: Well now I want to read it!

Pearl: Jimmy no-

Jimmy: Wither and decay... see nothing bad.

Pearl: Don't the words not make you think about it!?!

Jimmy: Hmm... End this destiny... no! Break these earthly chains and set the spirit free.

Pearl: Ok then, I'm just going to wait here to tell you I told you so.

Jimmy: Nothing is happening. Wither and decay, end this destiny. Break these earthly chains and set the spirit free.

Pearl: Guess It's happening.

Jimmy: Wither and decay, end this destiny. Break these earthly chains and set the spirit free. Wither and decay, end this destiny. Break these earthly chains and set the spirit free.

Pearl: ...fuck.

Jimmy: The moonstone? It's pretty.

Pearl: Yeah.

Jimmy: So do I just grab it?

Pearl: About that, plans have changed.

Jimmy: Uh?

Pearl: Listen, I'm the PearleascentMOON, I have a bit of a thing going on.

Jimmy: Don't -

And then light enveloped the room.

Jimmy: I can't believe you tricked me for the bit!

Pearl: Oh C'mon, it was funny.

Jimmy: ... Power of the sun, gift me with your light-

Pearl: And that's my cue to go.

Loop #393

Jimmy: Wait, why did I get Mabel's place and you Dipper!?

Pearl: You tell me mate.

Jimmy: You know what? I don't care. This is going to be great anyway.

Pearl: You do know what happens in gravity fall, right?

Jimmy: Not really! Just the basics!

Pearl: ... Right. Don't get your hopes up too high.

Jimmy: Wait, what happens!?

Pearl: ...

Jimmy: I hate gnomes.

Pearl: Big L.

Jimmy: Not even king! Queen! They tried to make me wear a dress!

Pearl: Nothing wrong with a dress.

Jimmy: There is when I'm forced into it by small creepy men.

Jimmy: How do people deal with so much...this!?!

Pearl: Probably used to it, they live here. It would be weirder if they didn't.

Jimmy: I- I guess!? You know what, I'm going to make more sweaters.

Jimmy: Oh, we can't just leave Pacifica there all alone.

Pearl: But she's a-

Jimmy: You said she gets better though.

Pearl: ... Yeah but-

Jimmy: Pacifica! Do you want a ride?

Gideon: EGASSEM SDRAWKCAB EGASSEM SDRAWKCAB EGASSEM SDRAWKCAB!

Grian: Oh It's nice to be here! You must be Gideon then?

Gideon: What are- How do you know my name?

Grian: Oh, I know lots of things. Lots of things.

Jimmy: Grian!?!

Grian: Hey there Timmy, I told Pearl this would happen eventually.

Jimmy: Why are you talking to me?

Grian: Well, it is near the time when the puppet show happens, you just didn't make them.

Jimmy: ...What?

Grian: Doesn't matter, at this point Bill would posses Dipper but I don't really want to posses Pearl, a bit unconfortable for me.

Jimmy: I'm not letting you posses me G.

Grian: Oh C'mon, it would be funny!

Jimmy: Why do even want to?

Grian: The nightmare realm is just so boooring. I promise I won't embarass you.

Jimmy: ...I want control at least 75% of the time.

Grian: no way, 50%.

Jimmy: 70%.

Grian: ... 60%.

Jimmy: ... Fine.

Grian: It's a deal then?

Jimmy: Yes.

Pearl: Grian you-

Grian: What? I didn't do anything!

Pearl: You caused Weirdmageddon!?!

Grian: Oh come on, It's so much tamer then canon, i'd call it Tamemageddon even.

Pearl: Grian.

Grian: I even turned infinte respawns AND keep inventory on.

Pearl: Grian.

Grian: Look at Timmy, he's having a blast! Aaaand I know for sure someone wants to pratice using the moonstone and chaos magic together.

Pearl: ...

Grian: I'm not going to hurt anyone Pearl, this is all innocent fun.

Pearl: ... Fine.

Prev Next First

[yanderes-galore]

Hiii! Absolutely in love with your writing! Never thought you'd ever write for Helluva Boss or Hazbin Hotel. Out of your top fandoms, may I propose that the reader is immune to Vox's hypnosis? Having this rare ability, they try escaping the V tower but it ends up being the biggest mistake. This TV seems to be possessive and canonically a control freak like a lot of TV based characters (looking at you Mr. Puzzles) lol! I know you're a busy person with their own life in the end of the day so I won't be mad if you refuse to write this. I love the content you provide us with already <3

Sure! I wasn't sure if you wanted a concept or a one shot, so I just focused on rambling out my thoughts on it. It could work either way though so maybe I'll follow this up sometime.

Yandere! Vox with Darling immune to hypnosis

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Violence, Anger issues, Kidnapping/Post-Kidnapping, Stalking, Possessive behavior, Mentions of Val's smoke/Drugging, Forced relationship.

It's hard to say who, at this time, has immunity to Vox's hypnotism.

It's currently only known to grab the attention of people who are... paying attention.

So, maybe you're oblivious or just never paying attention to his hypnotism.

Which in itself is incredibly frustrating to Vox.

However, another method is natural immunity.

I'm thinking maybe you're also an Overlord that has to, unfortunately, have meetings with The Vees due to a partnership.

Vox probably still outranks you, yet you're strong enough to resist his powers.

Another option is simply having a specific type of gear or tech you created that blocks his hypnotism.

Regardless... One way or another Vox can't use one of his most powerful tools on you...

Which naturally makes him pissy.

He can't do his usual subtle charms against you, carefully manipulating you into listening and being his.

Even when he captures you, you never seem to listen.

Normally it's easy for Vox to make other demons listen to him.

Unless they're Valentino or Alastor.

But now he has yet another demon who can just... ignore it.

He has so many fits when he tries to trick you into something, only for you to shut him down.

It's humbling and he hates it.

So, if Vox wants to keep you in the V Tower, he has to expect more resistance.

In fact, normally escape attempts would be amusing as he can just charm you again.

But now he can't do that.

I feel your immunity would stress Vox out at times.

Even if he manages to manipulate you into V Tower, keeping you there is difficult.

Vox is naturally charming, so you may agree with what he says at first.

Hell, maybe you two were dating before things went wrong or at the very least on friendly terms.

Then he goes crazy and locks you in your own personal room with high security and everything.

Vox was once drawn to (and frustrated with) you due to your immunity.

That was what got him obsessed in the first place before he started having all these... feelings.

Sinful feelings.

You're distracting, even more so when he can't charm you to give him attention.

So what better way to force your attention than manipulate you into the tower.

Maybe you were meant to be another V, but once you had enough of Vox and his obsessive behavior, you tried to leave.

Only for Vox to lock you away.

As he can't charm his way into making you listen, now he has to keep you by other means.

Such as cameras, screens, electronic locks, all sorts of security.

Fine... You may be able to bypass his hypnosis...

But he has other means to keep you his.

The issue he ends up finding though is a lack of affection.

He can't charm you into giving it to him.

You ignore him and no matter how hard he tries... You never pay attention.

Considering how Vox thrives on attention...

This is devastating and leaves him screaming in frustration.

One way I can see him forcing you to be more... attentive is using Val.

Vox would probably somehow get Val to give him some of his smoke/spit.

Disgusting and disturbing? Yes... but that's the point.

Vox seems like the type of person to control you in other ways, since he loves control.

If you tried to escape your high security prison, or withheld affection from Vox, you're essentially getting gassed/drugged.

He most likely would test it with just a bit.

Then afterwards, depending on his mood, would up the dosage.

(This makes my skin crawl-)

Of course, escape was never going to end well for you.

Vox will find some way to break you.

Be that showing you his security, using Val, or isolating you...

Vox is going to force your attention to make you rely on him.

There's no genuine love with him.

Only ownership.

Escaping is near impossible with his coworkers, employees, and security.

At some point, you'll break and only have him to greet you...

Leaving Vox to embrace you with eager arms, his claws digging into your skin once you're finally his.

[witchofsparkles]

Simon was having a fairly quiet evening. In a bar like theirs, it was mostly empty anyways. The place was hidden at the end of a dark alley, making it hard for people to find and the ones who found it would turn around and leave because of its place. Who would open a bar there? Probably people who are not up to no good.

And like that, in time, the place became somewhere really shady. They offered them a silent environment and a promise to be not listened and watched. For that, Price put Simon as the bartender. He wasn’t a talker and would wear a black balaclava all the time. The business people wouldn’t know him if they saw him outside and Simon didn’t care what the hell was going on between them. He eavesdropped once passing by a table and heard a rugged man asking for a hitman to hire.

Simon left the table almost running.

Price, the owner of the bar, Simon the Ghost and Gaz the upright man were all friends from military. They served together and they got expelled together when the big brother heard that they went against the orders trying to rescue a bunch of kids from the warzone. To Simon, it was an honor of badge, but military saw it as a dirt under their shoes and kicked them out. The whole thing was infuriating but they were also happy to be out. Simon got his share of horror for a life time.

Simon raised his head when he heard the door opening. It was only 8 pm and he knew they weren’t expecting anybody. No hitman bargain, to his knowledge. And the bar was completely empty other than himself. Then he saw the man coming in.

He was looking no more than a college student, really. He wasn't young, no. But there was an air of carelessness on him. His hair was wet from the rain, which Simon only noticed now, and he used to have a mohawk. Before it got glued into his head because of the wetness. Then he noticed the sea blue eyes looking around like he’s searching for something. Simon stared at them an ungodly amount of time and averted his gaze before the man could realize. Simon’s eyes moved down to his face, stubble around his cheeks and a pair of purple lips -which probably because of the freezing cold. Then he, with sort of amazement, saw that the man was give or take a head shorter than him but broader. In what universe? Simon thought cheekily.

“Hey, mate. Have something to warm me up a bit?” Simon narrowed his eyes with suspicion. He had a Scottish accent under that soothing voice. He didn’t answer. The man was in a bar, he should know that he could order every kind of warmer there.

Instead he just walked up to the counter while leaving wet footprints and scattering water droplets around. Simon felt his eyebrow twitching, he was the one who going to clean these.

“Not much of a talker, are ye? Well, it’s pishin it doon out ‘ere and I’m freezing. Scotch?” Simon hoped he didn’t show it on his face but the only bit he got from this man’s talking was his order. He turned to fill the glass and heard the man talking again.

“I mean it’s raining hard. I could see the gears turning through your eyes. Well, that’s about the only thing I can see. Is wearing a mask come with the bartender job or did I walk into a robbery?”

Simon rolled his eyes while his back was still turned to the man. He served the drink and turned to leave but the man stopped him again. “How much?”

Simon pointed to the board. The man clicked his tongue. “Even the money doesn’t get you talk. Are you mute? Am I being inconsiderate and rude?”

Simon thought about playing mute. He wasn’t planning on talking to customers soon. But he shook his head to indicate that he could talk but he chose not to. Not to him, anyways. And that found its way to the man too. He downed the Scotch and put the money under the glass. There was a crooked smile on his face. “Well, till the next rain then.”

[mcflymemes]

ALIEN (1979) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

the other members of the crew are dead.

this is the worst shit i've ever seen.

anybody ever tell you you look dead?

alien life form. looks like it's been dead a long time.

i should reach the frontier in about six weeks.

can you hear me?

what was your special order?

you read it. i thought it was clear.

what about our lives, you son of a bitch?

how do we kill it? there's gotta be a way of killing it.

that's bullshit.

you still don't understand what you're dealing with, do you?

you admire it.

look, i've heard enough of this, and i'm asking you to pull the plug.

i can't lie to you about your chances, but... you have my sympathies.

something has attached itself to him.

we have to get him to the infirmary right away.

wait a minute. if we let it in, the ship could be infected.

you know the quarantine procedure. twenty-four hours for decontamination.

listen to me. if we break quarantine, we could all die.

look, could you open the goddamned hatch?

i can't do that, and if you were in my position, you'd do the same.

this is an order.

the ship will automatically destruct in t-minus five minutes.

you bitch!

you are my lucky star.

i find that hard to believe.

what would you like me to do?

i'll get my own answers, thank you.

some of you may have figured out we're not home yet. we're only halfway there.

what kind of transmission?

you were gonna leave us out there!

when i give an order, i expect it to be obeyed.

unless somebody has got a better idea, we'll proceed with [name]'s plan.

oh no. you're out of your mind.

i say that we abandon ship!

we take our chances and just hope somebody will pick us up.

i'm for killing that goddamn thing right now.

will you listen to me, [name]?

you don't know that.

that's the only way.

we'll go step by step and cut off every bulkhead and every vent until we have it cornered, and then we'll blow it the fuck out into space.

is that acceptable to you?

that's amazing. what is it?

please don't do that. thank you.

you let him in.

by breaking quarantine, you risk everybody's life.

maybe i should have left him outside.

maybe i've jeopardized the rest of us, but it was a risk i was willing to take.

i do take my responsibilities are seriously as you, you know.

you do your job, and let me do mine.

you remember anything about the planet?

what's the last thing you do remember?

we're on our way home!

i don't trust him.

i don't trust anybody.

it's a robot!

let's get the hell out of here.

there is an explanation for this, you know.

i'm sorry, can i say something?

we don't know if it's intelligent.

i wanna go home and party.

you don't dare kill it.

how long before the ship blows?

why don't you just fuck off?

it looks like a warning.

i can't see a goddamn thing.

get out of the room!

the first thing i am going to do when i get back is get some decent food.

open the door!

oh god, it's moving right towards you!

get out of there! behind you! move!

this place gives me the creeps.

whatever it was, it was big.

i'll get the shuttle ready.

wait a minute. there's movement.

where's earth?

something's different down here.

it's got to be around there somewhere.