#I was a child for most of it. but I was around and picking up on things

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Recount Your Kids, Batman

[A loose continuation to this post]

Talia doesn't visit the Wayne manor. At least not regularly nor officially. All the batkids and Batman know she comes sometimes, just to check up on Damian and maybe bother Bruce from time to time, but this is the first time she has ever shown up to a dinner.

And, as they all take their seats, she gives Damian a long curios glance. Then, she looks to Bruce.

"Is that everyone?" She asks, easy and lighthearted. One might think she is simply not acquainted with the number of Wayne children or that she is teasing Bruce on the sheer amount of them. But Damian is looking down to his plate, and Tim knows for sure Talia keeps up with Wayne's head count, and Dick is fairly certain Talia would never tease Bruce, at least not so subtly.

It could have been some sort of a hint at Jason. If he was not here, that is. But he is, for once, so this is really all the family at one table.

"Yes?" Dick tries, looking around the table just to make sure. Steph and Babs are not here today, but that's definitely not what Talia could have meant. Bruce also looks just a little confused, which is a nice change of pace since he looked guarded and on edge from the very moment Talia showed up.

The woman hums, her eyes studying Damian. The youngest bat keeps his gaze down on his empty plate. No one really understands what's going on, but they all feel like there's something important and heavy hanging in the air.

Then, Talia stands up and turns to Alfred, "We will be dining later. It has come to my attention that kids are a lot more secretive than I thought," she explains cryptically and smiles at Bruce, "Beloved, will you come with me to the training grounds? I have something to show you."

Bruce doesn't move for a long moment, and Talia's smile becomes almost gentle, "It's about your son."

At least that makes the man move.

When they get down to the Cave - since Talia insisted this was not a matter that could be resolved in the manor's training room - it's not only her, Bruce, and the little bat there, of course. The whole family was way too intrigued, and some were even alarmed.

The most alarming part, though, was the fact that Damian had been uncharacteristically quiet on their way down. Yet, when Dick looked to Cass, she just shook her head slightly. The boy was not worried. To Cass, he looked almost resigned, if a bit displeased.

"Your sword, Damian," Talia commands, and the boy presses his lips into a thin line.

"This is not necessary, Mother."

"It is," the woman looks amused, but there's an underlying layer of concern to her tone.

"...Yes, Mother," Damian nods his head on what feels like surrender and takes his katana. Not the training one, the real blade. Bruce makes a soft, alarmed grunt, but Talia waves him off.

"Not to worry, Beloved. I will not harm our brethren."

She doesn't take a stance, nor does she pick out a weapon, simply lunges for Damian as soon as they are both on the mats. Two daggers seem to appear in her hands out of nothing, and, contrary to her words, her aim is towards Damian's neck. The boy blocks, jumps away, and blocks another attack.

Tim steps closer, "You can't just-"

"Step away, Drake," It's the first time Damian has spoken to them since they've sat down for dinner. His voice is tense, but not derisive. If anything, it sounds a bit tired.

Talia lunges for him again, faster, meaner. Metal clings against metal.

"You understand this can not keep going, my child," she tells the boy, startlingly gentle on the contrary to her definitely dangerous strikes.

Damian doesn't answer.

The rest of Batfam are forced to simply watch the encounter: Damian is mostly on defense as Talia goes for him, harder and harder with every hit. Until, without any warning, the woman strikes for Damian's arm, making him drop his katana, and-

A few things happen at once.

Talia lunges for Damian's throat. Bruce jumps onto the mats so fast that he almost trips. Tim yelps.

But Talia's blade doesn't strike.

A figure of another child, eerily similar to Damian and wearing the League of Assassins uniform, is standing in front of the littlest bat, two crystal clear blades in his hands, blocking the dagger.

Bruce halts midstep. The rest of the family holds their breath.

But Talia simply smiles and drops her daggers, backing away and looking at the boy between her and Damian with a fond gaze.

"Danyal," she greets, and the boy huffs, lowering his weapons. He doesn't drop them - they simply dissipate in the air, turning into tiny snowflakes.

"Mother," he greets back begrudgingly, and his voice is the exact replica of Damian's. A clone? No, because Damian reacts to him nothing like he had to the clones, simply clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes.

"You could have simply asked, Mother," he comments, taking a step forward and stading near the other boy. Danyal. When standing side by side, they look nearly identical - same facial features, same posture, same hair, even if Damian's is a little more tame.

But Danyal's eyes are just a few hues off. Still green but lighter than Damian's.

"I assumed if you have spent years living here and never bothered to mention your brother, I would need a little more than asking, my love," Talia doesn't laugh, but it sounds like she wants to. Both boys roll their eyes, perfectly in sync.

Hold the fuck up, brother?

"Huh. I thought you died," Jason mentions offhandedly, and the whole family whips their heads to him. Yet, before any of them speak, it's Danyal who answers.

"I mean, I did? Kinda?" He waves his hand in the air and shrugs, and he acts so unlike Damian while also simultaneously having his face, that it makes Tim shiver a little.

"You-" Bruce starts, seeming to finally find his voice, but the boy cuts him off.

"I'm not actually yours," he snorts at Bruce's facial expression, "Yeah, I know I look like I am. Blame the ghost sewers, Chronos, and my stupid ass for making decisions while not being fully awake."

There is so much to unpack in that sentence that no one has the barest of ideas on where to start.

Damian curves his lips down in a sneer.

"The longer you stay there staring, the colder the dinner will be when we return," he reminds them, and Danyal suddenly perks up.

"Dinner? Can I join? It's been ages since I've had anything home cooked," he smiles, like there's some kind of an inside joke in that sentence. Damian rolls his eyes.

"The food doesn't come alive in this household, Danyal."

"Bummer," the boy looks a bit disappointed, but not too much. "And it's Danny, for the thousandth time."

Talia picks up her daggers, hiding them somewhere in her clothes in an unnoticeable motion. Then, she gives Bruce a small, if a bit sly, smile.

"You can not call it 'family dinner' if not all your family is there."

[xomakara]

Bump and Trim

SUMMARY |  San helps you trim the hair around your intimate parts since you're pregnant.

PAIRINGS |  San x Reader

GENRE |  smut, established relationship, pregnancy, non-idol au

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (both f/m receiving/giving), praise kink, pet names

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

LENGTH |  2,285 words

TAGLIST | --

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚

“San! Honey!” You called out from the bathroom, waiting for you husband of many years to answer your beckon. It took only a few moments and then you were face to face with his handsome self leaning against the doorway, a smile plastered to his lips.

“Hmm?” he hummed at you and you tried really, really hard to not focus on how that particular little noise was going straight to the region you wanted to shave. Damn his voice for having so much control of you.

Instead, you held out the razor towards him and smiled. His brow raised in confusion and you wiggled the object closer. “San, can you help me shave? I can't reach down there and my belly is in the way and..."

"Love, why do you need to shave? Won't it affect the baby? Not to mention how bad it'd be if you got a cut." San interjected before you could finish.

"But it's a freaking forest down there." You pouted, letting your hand drop to your belly that housed your unborn child, his hand covering your own. You saw a spark of a firelight behind San's eyes as his attention fell to your belly and his hand rubbed circles gently across its surface.

"How about we trim it to keep it nice and tidy?" He suggested and then kissed the bridge of your nose to add emphasis to his desire to not harm you or your womb mate. "And then after you give birth, I will personally take care of the grooming of the forest that will reside between those heavenly legs of yours. Do you agree?"

You pretended to mull it over for a few moments, humming in feigned thought before giving a small giggle as San's hand cupped your ass and pressed himself firmly against your swollen midsection. A quiet moan left your throat and his fingers dug into the flesh. He needed you; his hormones were in just as much disarray as yours.

"Lovely idea, my dearest husband." You managed to rasp.

"Indeed it was..." his voice dropped several octaves.

He picked you up, easily and carefully, and then sat you gently on the bed, laying out towels and propping a pillow to lean against your back, keeping your pelvic region open to him. Carefully he separated your legs, just a few inches, before wetting the pubic area a little with a wet cloth he retrieved from the bathroom. He got the clippers ready and checked everything and you couldn't help but grin from ear to ear, eager to feel his tender hands between your thighs.

"What is so funny, wife?" He questioned, turning the clippers on before gently taking some hairs between the blades. He clipped them neatly, making sure none was too long or too short and didn't make a mess. Your skin tingle from the new sensation.

"Just your adorable concentration." You giggled softly, propping the pillow and yourself a little more and caressing San's smooth face while he worked on a very ticklish area. It wasn't an unusual task for him to do this, and you thanked your lucky stars every day that San was comfortable with things most males were shy with. He was gentle, loving and quite talented.

"I'm concentrating on an area that I have very deep appreciation for." He hummed happily as he snipped another tiny clump of hair.

"Oh, so you care more about my forest than about your baby and wife, do you?" You teased, playfully poking his cheekbone. He smacked your finger with his own finger, his lips quirked in a smile.

"If I don't tend to the forest, how else will you allow me access to the tree situated in the middle?" He answered.

The statement made you break into a loud burst of giggles. "You're so weird sometimes!" You snorted through a laugh, resting the back of your head on the pillow behind you. He looked up from his careful work, grinning from ear to ear, baring teeth, tongue stuck out slightly.

"Only for you, babe." He teased back.

"If only my husband would always stay between my thighs...all my stress would go away and the world would be right again." You stated boldly, feeling empowered in that moment to admit how much you craved your husband's attention and adoration. It felt great.

"Aren't you needy all the time?" He added.

"You're the one who made me like this, San."

"Guess I better hurry this trimming up so I can fulfill my wife's request..." He growled.

Once your lower pelvic region was nicely trimmed, he was going to pull back and stop there. However, that didn't exactly go according to plan.

You let out a small whine from behind clenched teeth and pouted at him, making a shoving motion between your legs with your hand. His gaze fell there and he knew immediately you didn't want any of this stopping now that you were feeling this aroused. "I'm waiting, husband."

It's been four months since you and San stopped having sex because of the pregnancy and it was really, really frustrating. Of course the doctor said it would be safe to have sex during pregnancy, but this was San and he was a worrywart for both yourself and your little one.

"Are you certain, my love?" His expression was that of longing. Longing to touch you. Longing to have you beneath his skilled fingers. Longing to claim what belonged to him and no other.

"The doctor said it was fine, San." You replied. He waited still. "I just...can you please, please get to business here? I'm fucking horny as fuck right now and I just need you like eat me out or something."

And that he did, slowly and deliciously dragging his tongue across every bit of skin from inner thighs to pubic bone. He enjoyed the tangy taste of your sweetness on his tongue and you enjoyed the way he groaned his enjoyment of it, the vibrations from his mouth on your sex, hitting you just the right way, sending hot sparks of arousal up and down your spine, leaving you breathless and clutching at the blankets. Your body trembled from all the stimulation he was sending through your being, tongue dipping into every fold and tasting every part.

San held you gently, his hands cradling your swollen belly while he made slow love to you with his mouth. His tongue stroked and swirled across your clit and then sucked ever so slightly upon the bundle of nerves, smiling at each gasp, groan, and moan that escaped your parted lips. You clasped your hand on his hand that rested on your belly and gripped your other hand into the bed sheets.

"I can't believe that our daughter is growing in your beautiful body right now..." He murmured after another tender lick that ended at your sweet entrance. "She'll be the cutest little lady that anyone could ever meet, next to you, my love."

"Keep- keep talking, honey..." Your body spasmed, waves of heat pulsing through you, getting closer and closer to completion. He rubbed your belly with one hand and then made sure to find one of your own hands and laced his fingers with yours.

"So strong and gorgeous, aren't you, my queen." He breathed against the apex between your thighs, feeling them quake under his hold. You moaned a bit louder, losing your sense of volume, knowing you had a very sexy and attractive husband between your legs who was loving your pussy and teasing you to the point of almost being able to orgasm.

Almost.

"Please..." You begged him, pleading with him to help bring you that last bit further.

"I love you, y/n" he smiled from the spot where his nose was nestled among your trimmed, yet moist curls and licked a little longer, pressing his thumb against your nub, stroking at the sensitive flesh. His long fingers prodded against your cunt and slid inside without warning, giving you the opportunity you needed. He curled his fingers just right and pulled another loud groan from you. Your back arched off the bed, but he leaned down quickly, laying his head onto your belly and rubbing it a little firmer, so you were laid flush to the bed.

"O-oh!" Was all you could say, every muscle tensing, a feeling of euphoria washing over you in waves of hot pleasure, shuddering around San's fingers. As if on cue, he removed his digits slowly from inside of you, placing soft kisses and kitten licks on your clitoris, down along your slit. It didn't matter much, though because your body went slack against the bed, breath coming in gasps and your entire being trembling, dripping wet and covered in sweat.

"Done eating my forest?" You groaned out, trying to catch your breath, cheeks flushed from the wonderful moment he just gave you. He chuckled and kissed his way up your body, mindful of your pregnant belly, and claimed your lips sweetly.

"Most certainly. I can see my way through." San joked and nuzzled his nose along your temple lovingly. "You okay, my love? Was that good?"

"So, so amazing. Thank you so much, San." You blushed from your head down to your neck, hiding your face in your husband's shoulder, biting down slightly, wanting to return the favor, even if it couldn't be nearly as spectacular as his skilled tongue could do.

He flinched at the feeling and shivered, laughing at your bashfulness. "And how would you repay my deed?"

"How about my hands?" You suggested, a smile spreading across your face. He helped you move into a comfortable position and leaned down to kiss the bridge of your nose tenderly.

"As long as they're attached to an amazing wife, anything will do." San moaned softly into another kiss to your mouth.

His pelvic muscles quivered when you took hold of his heavy length and stroked carefully along the length and felt the hot length pulse in your fingers, a whisper of a name falling past his lips, mingling with his soft moan, filling the quiet bedroom. San bucked lightly into your hand, wanting more friction and you were quick to oblige by running your palm up and down a little faster, the girth twitching when you squeezed just enough around him.

His hands took hold of your free one, intertwining fingers, placing sweet kisses on your knuckles and panting loudly, groans of praise and excitement muffled with his sweet touches. The scent of his excitement, precum leaking profusely from his swollen cockhead, causing your hand to slide easily across his shaft.

"I love you so much..." San murmured in your ear. You hummed your approval of the lovely words, brushing your thumb over his tip, swiping more beads of precum from the tip. With a loud exhale, his brow furrowed, chest heaving with the breaths.

"Are you close?" You asked him, licking your lips and squeezing again, thumb brushing and feeling the blood coursing underneath the flesh. It throbbed under your hand and it made you want to taste him, even if the sensation wasn't quite the same.

"Gods...don't stop, babe...right there..." his moans grew higher pitched as he arched off the bed, movements growing erratic, jerking himself with your hand around his aching cock. You increased the pace a bit more and kissed his flushed cheek when he craned his neck to rest his head on the pillow behind him.

San couldn't quite form sentences anymore. Just pleas for more, to keep going. To milk his thick shaft for all its worth. And that was exactly what you did. In seconds his warm, sticky cum painted across his chest and spilled a little on your belly, pooling above your naval. The creamy white substance oozed from him, overflowing as you continued your slow, languid strokes, relishing the feeling of his climax in your fingers, his shaky, erotic expressions.

The moment his breathing slowed and his body relaxed against the bed once more, he let out a loud sigh. A satisfied sound that left no doubt he enjoyed every minute of that. Your lips found his own in a sweet and tender kiss.

"That was glorious." San grinned lazily from beside you.

You giggled a bit at the euphoria covering his face. He sat up, cleaned the two of you up a bit before pulling you against his frame, wrapping his arms around you lovingly. His attention turned towards the baby bump between you. He was silent for a few minutes, admiring the view he had of his future child in there and the feel of you cuddled in his arms, a glow about you he adored.

The baby kicked and moved in you, causing you to squeak. The look on San's face went from surprise to full fledged affection for both you and your child. His hand immediately came to your stomach and felt the baby shift about, the sensation a little uncomfortable to you, but wonderful all the same.

"Already so protective." You hummed and laid your palm across San's, helping him map your stomach.

"How can I not be? You and our baby are everything I've always wanted." San admitted, watching the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you laughed and how they closed when you were pleased with something he said or done.

"God, I hope the baby has your eyes, San." You whispered into the evening air, San kissing the crown of your head and continuing to caress your stomach as you two snuggled together in bed.

You would just have to wait and find out a few months later.

[gingiesworld]

Rover

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings : Just fluff

18+ MINORS DNI

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

Y/N and Wanda were indeed the perfect couple, the two had met when they both attended the same college course. Throughout the years, the two had come up with the idea of opening up their own cafe together. It was a dream that the two of them had shared, along with starting their own family, Wanda giving birth to twins, Billy and Tommy.

“I’ll close up tonight.” Y/N told Wanda as she served her last customer. “You take the boys home and I’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

“Are you sure?” Wanda questioned as Y/N nodded.

“It’s only a short walk.” They told her before helping get the two five year olds ready. “I’ll be home as soon as I finish up, I promise love.”

“Okay.” Wanda smiled before she leaned up to kiss them before taking the twins to the car. The last couple of hours of being open was extremely slow, giving Y/N the opportunity to start most of the closing chores before they locked the doors. As they took the trash out, they had heard a quiet whimper coming from beside the bins. Slowly, they moved closer towards the source of the sound, soon finding a small Jack Russel puppy.

“Hey there.” They whispered as they slowly approached it. “You look cold.” They took off their sweater to wrap it around the dog, picking it up and holding it close to them. “I think I should take you home. The twins would love you.” They smiled before they went back inside the cafe to finish locking up. Soon starting the journey home, they knew that the twins would indeed be excited about having a puppy, but they would have to convince Wanda. So, they decided that they needed to stop off at the store on their way home, getting the supplies needed for the puppy. Once they had entered the house, the twins were both sitting on the floor with their toys as Wanda was sitting on the sofa. The twins were both already ready for bed, but the sound of the door opening caught all of their attention.

“What’s all of that for?” Wanda questioned as she put her book down on the table beside the sofa.

“Well, I couldn’t just leave him there.” Y/N reasoned as Wanda rose to her feet, Y/N visibly gulping as she tilted her head. “He was whimpering and cold.”

“What did you do?” She questioned, watching as Y/N had a nervous smile on their face, removing their sweater and revealing the puppy. The twins both ran towards them excited as Wanda’s eyes remained on Y/N with an unreadable expression. “You brought home a stray?”

“Technically, yes.” They tried as they let the pup on the floor with the twins. “But look at him.” They turned her around to face the twins with the puppy. “Look at how happy they all are.”

“We can’t look after a puppy.” Wanda told them. “We have a cafe to run too.”

“Well, I can always make the office into a sort of den for the puppy.” Y/N told her. “Just for while the twins are at school, and we both know that Agatha helps some nights with either closing or opening.”

“It will cost a lot of money.” Wanda told them.

“Well, to be fair, the twins cost a lot of money.” Y/N teased, causing Wanda to laugh as she hit their arm. “Just look at their smiles, maybe this is the right addition to our family that we need.”

“Well, we could have always had another child.” Wanda told them, chuckling as Y/N shook their head.

“No, at least with the puppy we won’t need to save up a college fund for them.” They started. “Or need to pay extra because they have tried to do some sort of stunt from Jackass.”

“That was you.” Wanda reminded them, soon their attention was moved towards the laughing boys, watching as they found some of the toys that Y/N had bought for the puppy. “He needs a name.” Wanda stated as the twins looked between their parents.

“Rover.” The twins yelled in unison.

“Rover it is.” Y/N smiled before they picked the puppy up. “I am going to bathe this little guy, while the two of you go to bed.”

“But.” They both pouted.

“He will be here when you both wake up in the morning.” Wanda told them both, leading them towards the stairs.

Once the time came for both Y/N and Wanda to head to bed, Rover had joined them at the foot of their bed. Wanda rolled her eyes when she saw Y/N’s cheeky smile, they knew how she felt about animals on the furniture but this is the one time she seem to let it slide.

“I would have thought you would have had me take him to the pound first thing.” Y/N spoke aloud as the two lay facing each other.

“You were right.” Wanda smiled tenderly. “Rover could be the best thing for this family, and he could also help with teaching you and the twins some responsibility.”

“I am a responsible adult.” Y/N protested making Wanda giggle before she cuddled into them. “I have kept two five year old animals alive for their whole lives.”

“Those animals seem to be our offspring and you know very well that I did a majority of it.” Wanda told them.

“You know I don’t do well at the icky stuff, besides I don’t fancy carrying a bucket with me everywhere I go.” They told her, making her chuckle as they kissed her head. “Okay, maybe I’m not the most responsible adult but you are stuck with me.” They booped her nose before they lay their head back on their pillow, their arms wrapped securely around their wife as they both fell into a peaceful slumber.

[luvie-42]

Plush Thighs: Toji x Reader

ᥫ᭡💋its abt time i write of this handsome dilf 😔

ᥫ᭡⚠️WARNINGS: Biting, pussy eating, ass spanking, slick mention, smut below line.

~ ᥫ᭡🩷CONTEXT: Toji loves readers thighs!

ᥫ᭡🎀 MINORS DNI

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

-Where could he start?

-All of you was practically perfect for a man like him, he loved and desired you almost every second off every day. He sometimes wondered what he did in his past life to deserve you.

-The calloused hands rub over your flesh, his shaggy hair tickling the base of your thighs, his head resting on your stomach with both thighs on his shoulders.

-He didn’t wanna leave here, it was equivalent to two soft, lush pillows wrapped around his head. His eyes flutter, day dreaming and most likely about you.

-You look from your phone, smiling lightly at the sight below you, you move a hand down, raking your fingers through his hair, earning a purr like noise from him.

-You look back at your phone for only three seconds, feeling a sudden sharp pain on your right thigh, looking down at your mischievous boyfriend who has a chunk of your fat against his lush lips, the scar on the corner of his mouth turns up, a smirk playing his lips. “Too rough, doll?” He coos, giving your thigh a light swat.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

-You gasp and sigh, gripping the sheets tight, feeling the sensation of his skilled tongue catching all of your slick dripping from your hole.

-One hand holds your hip gently, the other holding your thigh and occasionally smacking your plump ass. “Don’t ‘cha try runnin’ from me baby…” He says muffled, landing a wet kiss mixed with your fluid on your thigh before going back to work.

-“Tojiii… ‘M close..” You whine out, fisting his hair lightly. “Go on dolly.” He instructs, you obediently cum on his tongue, letting him swallow it all down.

★☆★☆★☆★☆���☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

-You sleep secure in your boyfriends arms, your head snug in his chest with your limbs attached around his torso. The familiar feeling of those calloused hands rubbing in an up and down motion from your ass to your thighs, grasping them every once in a while.

-He’d never let you leave, he’d try pay rent, or pick up Megumi from school, and even wash the sheets after fucking you dumb.

-Anything just to have you in his arms and those thighs in his hands at the end of the day…▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

mfmgmgmfmmggm giggling n kicking my feet at my our big tiddy dilf who can’t pay child support

[victorbutnotreally]

Academic Validation - Lee Minho x Male Reader

A/N: i'm back!! heavily inspired by myself. to all the people struggling with their studies, you got this! your grades only define a part of you, a part of you that can be molded however you want.

warnings: thunderstorms, mental breakdown, mentions of dying, unrealistic expectations from parents, min's parents are horrible in this.

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

"You have so much potential, Minho! Where's that little boy who's always eager to learn, huh?? You got an A in maths instead of your usual A*. I can't believe this!!"

"Mom, let me-"

"No!! You're in university, for god's sake! Pull yourself together! Stop hanging out with your friends and you better study, young man-"

"I-"

"Or do you not want to achieve anything? Do you want to be stuck somewhere with part time jobs, barely making a living??"

An A is still a good grade, Mom! he wanted to say, but he didn't dare to. He wanted to scream and shout and defend himself, but he wasn't allowed to. The words were just fading echoes in his ears till the sound of the call ending snapped him back to reality.

His parents see his mistakes, but only that. It wasn't an easy exam, and only one person got an A*. But of course, his parents wouldn't understand that, because he used to get full marks for everything without even studying as a child. And even now, he's mostly relying on his memory and math skills. He doesn't know how to study. Why would you know how to study when you're "gifted"? God, he hated that term. He would beam with pride when he got called that till middle school. Things started going downhill in high school, but he picked it up somehow. Mostly to compete with Mn. And now, in one of the most prestigious universities in the world, he was doing well. Very well, actually. But his parents won't understand. Why would they, when their son is "gifted"?

Sobs wracked his body as he threw his phone onto the bed and slid down against the wall. He wished the wall had arms to hold him, since his parents never did. He wished his wall would come to life, talk to him, kiss his hair and wipe his tears away. He sat with his legs to his chest and his arms on his knees, but that wasn't comforting enough. He curled up into a fetal position on the ground as he sobbed. He didn't have friends. He was always alone growing up, and he was fine, since life wasn't so cruel back then. His comfort was being alone, but he wants to be held right now.

He pulls himself up somehow, going to the bathroom to wash his face. He had an image to maintain. The thunder seemed to rattle the windows and the lightning struck. On any other day, he would've admired thunderstorms, but the sounds and the light overwhelmed him at the moment. He opened the door to his dorm room and walked down the hallway. Mn. The only one who got an A* in the maths test. He wanted Mn. Sure, they wouldn't exactly be termed as 'friends', but he's the closest thing Minho has to one.

Mn heard the knock on his door and wondered who it was at this time of the night. It was 1:03. He went up to the door and and looked through the peephole. Minho? He opened the door, and before he could say anything, Minho threw himself into his arms.

"Min-"

The moment he felt those strong arms wrap around him, Minho lost control. He clung onto Mn like a lifeline, burying his face in the crook of his neck. His sobs echoed in the quiet room, his body shaking from the force of his emotions. And to Mn, the sound of his sobs seemed to pierce him deeper than the lightning. He buried his face into Mn's shirt, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He's never cried like this before, but something about seeing his calm, collected expression makes the floodgates open. The last time he broke down like this was…well, he didn't remember.

"I-I'm sorry," he chokes out between hiccups, voice muffled against Mn's chest. He's too embarrassed to meet those piercing eyes, but at the same time, he craves his warmth and stability. "Just needed someone…"

He takes a deep breath, trying to regain some composure. When he finally looks up, his dark eyes are puffy and red, and filled with vulnerability rare of him. "Please don't think less of me, Mn."

Mn's expression softened, his hand went up from Minho's back to his face, wiping away his tears.

"Of course not…not for this. Come inside," he says, pulling Minho inside the room once he realized they were still in the doorway. The door clicks shut behind them, loud thunder accompanying the sharp sound.

"What happened, Minho?"

The soft gaze, the gentle tone of someone who's supposed to be his rival, opened the floodgates once more. Years worth of bottled up emotions came out at once as he broke down in his rival's arms. Mn could do nothing but rub his back and hold him close. Minho didn't need anything else. He just wanted to be held. Minho's arms squeezed him tighter as his sobs grew louder. He buried his face in his chest so deep as if he wanted to be lodged in his ribcage, right next to his heart.

"They- they think I'm so smart…I'm not…I'm not smart or anything.."

More sobs.

"I can't do this anymore, Mn, I can't…I'll die at this rate. I just wanna disappear and stop worrying about all this."

"Oh, Minho.." Mn felt a strange protectiveness over the boy nestled so comfortably in his arms. His heart felt warm knowing that Minho came to him out of all people, but at the same time, he felt sad, knowing that Minho didn't really have anyone else.

"What if I don't get a job? What if adulting is harder than I thought? What if…what if I don't graduate?"

The last question was followed by hysterical sobs. If it weren't for the thunderstorm, Mn was sure he would've woken up the whole floor with his cries.

"I-I c-can't do this anymore, Mnie…I can't..p-please.."

"Okay..okay..we'll take a break for a while, yeah?"

"C-Can't…have to..study..I have to-"

"Minho."

Minho looked up from Mn's chest, eyes teary and red.

"How long has it been since you slept?"

"I- I don't know, Mn.." He said Mn's name with such softness, such…vulnerability.

Mn reached to wipe away Minho's tears and reached out to grab some tissues for him.

"Here."

Minho shakily took the tissues, mumbling a small 'thank you' as he wiped his face. He slowly got up, his feet somehow being able to carry his weight now as he went to the bathroom and washed his face. He came out of the bathroom to see Mn making tea.

"Y-You don't have to," Minho said, his voice sore and shaky from all the crying.

"Sit down, Min. Talk to me, okay?"

He obediently sat down, quite unusual for him. But right now, he just wants to hand everything to someone else. And he didn't think he'd be so open with Mn.

"I just..I got an A instead of an A*. I wasn't disappointed with it because it was a super tough exam, but my mom called and said a lot of things. Like I'm wasting my potential. I didn't hear the rest, I was so tired. Don't…pity me. Please."

"I won't. I don't. And you're not wasting your potential, okay?," Mn started, handing Minho a cup of tea. "You're one of the best students here. And one slight drop in your grade doesn't make you stupid. Besides, A is such a good grade."

Minho sips his tea, the warmth of the teacup a comfort to his cold hands. He listened intently to Mn's words, as if memorising them. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, a small smile finding its way to his lips.

"You're good enough. I'm proud of you."

"You're good enough." The words rang in Minho's head, louder than the thunderstorm outside. He felt safe. He felt like he could admire it again. He sets down the teacup and hugged him again, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

"Thank you."

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

taglist:

@forever-atiny

[tulliok]

we stopped watching around the later seasons and barely remember what happened in them so we're encouraging you to talk about what you dislike or want to criticize

Got asked, so here’s my abridged season 8-9 thoughts.

As someone who grew up watching the show from the beginning, I have a lot of gripes with how “friendship” is defined as a power-up or a material resource. However, it really wasn’t that big of a deal because I understand that MLP is a show targeted towards young girls that enjoy playing with toys, and the show was able to still portray realistic and educational lessons. 

The introduction of a friendship school in season 8 was a poor decision for so many reasons. Narratively, it locks our main characters into a single location, and we go from having a cast with unique occupations and storylines… to one where all six share the same responsibilities as an instructor and tackle the same lessons. Especially when some of them don’t seem like the type to enjoy teaching at all.

But the biggest issue I have is that the school validates the show’s idea that friendship is a unique resource that has to be taught, and that comes with a load of problematic implications. To get to the worst one right away, the school came packaged with a storyline about xenophobia and Equestria’s prejudice against their foreign neighbors. The coding of non-pony species in the show has always had weird racial implications (yaks and dragons being depicted as loud, unintelligent barbarians, the buffalo and Zecora representing members of real marginalized groups), but it is made even worse in this season by depicting them as people that are uneducated and need to be taught basic social skills and lessons in a foreign land. The Friendship School is literally a project designed by Twilight to spread Equestria’s idea of friendship to other countries! On top of that, they introduce what is essentially a conservative, white supremacist pony as a villain, and to beat him Twilight needs to prove that the exchange students are worthy of being taught. I really don’t think I need to explain why this is extremely weird and shouldn’t even be in the show in the first place.

I love the show because of episodes like Amending Fences, Leap of Faith, and No Second Prances—episodes that teach children that relationships aren’t big battles of morality and power but are complicated experiences that everyone has a unique response to. These experiences cannot be taught in a school with sewing lessons and apple picking and taking exams. They are also not unique to any particular community or race—that is a fact of life that most children should immediately understand. It’s extremely disheartening watching the show regress to the point where Rarity is telling a young girl that her cultural costume isn’t pretty enough and she’s dolling her up in wigs to cover her braids and giving her etiquette lessons to “fit right in." I don’t care that the moral was that she was wrong; what’s wrong is that the show even bothered making episodes like this at all. 

Season 9 concludes with a happy ending where all is well, but it isn't because the young child villain, the one character that needed friendship lessons and the grace to grow up, was turned into a garden accessory without a second thought. All while surrounded by the redeemed villains that the series arbitrarily decided were more worthy of our sympathy.

I don’t want to overwhelm anyone with my opinions and I want to be as fair as possible about what made me so uncomfortable with the show’s conclusion. I am a longtime fan, but I also care a lot about children’s media being responsible with their messaging, especially when they tackle subjects that require a great level of care, such as race and relationships. MLP (whether older fans like it or not) is ultimately a show about teaching children valuable social skills and providing moral lessons with every adventure.

I doubt this mixed messaging was intentional on the writer’s part. Rather, the last seasons were recklessly handled. To a viewer’s eyes, there isn’t a difference between these two.

[haveihitanerve]

Steph and Bruce things-

Bruce once said- “when I die I want you to be the one who lowers me into the grave so you can let me down one last time” and dick gaped at him in horror, jason exploded into laughter, and steph glared at him before giving him a high five

Steph ends every argument with him with “i won this argument” even if she- especially if she very clearly did not

When she gets injured Bruce forces her to stay at the manor. Its the only time he is permitted to actually parent her because she is injured and needs to recover, but thats not to say she doesn't break into the cave and annoy him during work and force him to take her with him everywhere

Steph has all the codes and keys for everything in Wayne Manor/Batcave, but still breaks in everytime she comes over. It drives Bruce insane

When bruce gets injured shes one of the kids who sits at his side the whole time, especially if its because of her or its a big injury(dick is usually the other one)

When he gets sick she forces him to sit on the couch with her all day and folds him into a burrito blanket and eat junk food and slightly burnt soup with bread and watch trashy tv

When she gets sick bruce wraps her in a blanket burrito that she actually cannot escape from and takes her everywhere with him, just carting around his technically not daughter who is forced to be there and take the medicine he gives her and food and everything because shes wrapped in a straight jacket blanket

He picks her up from school and will have the most embarrassing songs ever playing, or will call out something awful like “is that the boy you have a shrine of in your room?”

Will lecture her in front of her friends

Steph changes all his contacts frequently so he always has to spend some time deciphering who it is based on what she called them, or he just starts every conversation with “who is this?”

She once forced him to come to a concert with her and buy matching t-shirts and merch and whenever shes feeling down he wears the shirt as like.. Solidarity and it makes her feel better

Every year for her birthday or christmas or something he sends her a bat symbol, either in purple or black or some other color and every year on his birthday she actually wears it for one day and lets him “claim” her as a bat

She was the first one to visit the League and gave everyone whiplash and made Batman actually break composure

Bruce will actively go on the patrol route she goes on and throw water or like snacks at her while screaming “Hydrate or diedrate!!!” and it is common to see a screaming Spoiler sprint away from Batman across rooftops

They have a snowball fight every year and she recruits every batkid to help

When shes on her period bruce “grounds her” from patrol and forces her to accept his mother henning just once a month. Steph doesn't actually mind. 

Steph gives him actually useful dating advice

Since shes not actually his daughter she lacks the baggage of being his child and tells him when hes messed up and he and Babs have like meetings with him to explain what hes done wrong with his kids and how to fix it/be better. Dick is also sometimes involved in these meetings when he is not the offended party

thats all i could think of rn but please feel free to add more 💗

[beforetimes]

my thoughts on the trans charles headcanon!

let me just start off by saying i love it. just to make that 100% clear at the beginning of this.

ok i think that charles being a trans man would change his relationship with the characters in the movies + his relationship with his mutation in the films as well. for one, i think that his first encounter with raven would hold more weight. because raven would be his first look at someone like him—a mutant—but also his first look at someone who was able to defy gender norms in a way he was unfamiliar with. i'd imagine that as a child he would be so isolated that he would assume his feelings in wanting to be anyone but himself [pre-transition] were inherent to everyone. and encountering raven changed that perspective but also drove home the fact that his expression of himself didn't change who he innately was. as raven changes how she looks frequently but at the end of the day, is still raven. i feel he would get his first realization that, ah, just because i look like a girl doesn't mean that i am one.

(i also like to imagine that his telepathy would be a tool for him to use before he's given access to the resources he needs to medically transition. it would work as a way to help along his social transition, maybe by subtly changing people's surface level perception of him if they were interacting in his youth. when he grows older and he does have the ability to medically transition, he would stop purposely affecting people's perception of him but that habit would be so engrained that it would subtly colour his interactions with the general public unconciously.)

anyway, i think the way this plays into his relationship with his sexuality would be fun, too! the flings he's implied to have in first class are obviously just superficial (as he repeats the same routine to pick up girls multiple times). we could argue is his version of comphet, if we're assuming he's gay, but the way he was raised makes him want to strive to be the person his parents wanted him to be. or the relationship of his sexuality with his gender identity and how he feels slightly invalid in his dual identity as a gay and trans man, because, to him (with internalized queerphobia), he would assume he's just taking extra steps to come around to liking men as a cis women.

besides that i think his relationship with erik would also change. because, like, i like to work with the idea of erik being a bisexual man (as he does have a relationship with a woman a decade long in canon and i'm not opposed to it in the context of the story) but him still interacting with charles as a man would still be pretty validating to charles. because, i imagine in first class, charles would still be welcome to float around the periphery of erik's thoughts (as erik wasn't opposed to charles' mutation as most people try to say he is—as far as i remember, erik lets charles into his head during first class multiple times without becoming angry!) and charles would see (at least on the surface level) that erik's attraction to him isn't because he sees him as a woman but moreso that despite being attracted to both men and women he still respects charles' identity as a man and builds a relationship in that context.

i have more thoughts about this that i'll probably add to later but this is just a summary of a conversation i had with someone in my discord server that i thought had enough substance to make into a proper post. thanks for reading!

[yanderes-galore]

Romantic Misa Amane with prompts 17 and 29 from your own prompt list? Misa is basically a canon yandere anyway.

She definitely is. Plus, I can totally see her playing dress up with her darling.

Yandere! Misa Amane Prompts 17 + 29

"You look so cute in those clothes! I think I picked well...."

"I want to be this close... forever...."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Post-Kidnapping plot, Delusional behavior, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Isolation, Murder mentioned, Dehumanization, Forced relationship.

"I saw these at the store and thought you'd look so cute in them!"

Misa's voice is sickeningly sweet like usual. You've grown used to her voice ever since you were brought to her apartment. Yet you still can't stop flinching back when you hear her.

You're scared of her and you think she notices.

It wasn't new for Misa to buy clothes before coming home. As a famous model she naturally gets money and access to fancy clothes. So, you're used to Misa coming home with bags full of clothes.

Unfortunately, you also know it means she gets to play dress up with you for the next few hours.

Dressing you in clothes is Misa's love language. She enjoys dressing you in pretty suits and dresses. To her, it's bonding.

You feel like a human doll... but it's not like you can convince her otherwise.

"Took me forever to find your size but... here they are!" Misa chirps, dropping full bags on the bed beside you. You blankly look between them and Misa, noticing the excitement glinting in her eyes. If you ignored the fact you're a captive... maybe it would be cute.

If you weren't trapped in this apartment, perhaps Misa could be a good girlfriend. She's cute... but you know better. A cute face can allow someone to get away with many things...

But not kidnapping and murder.

No, you know what Misa is capable of. She may act like the cute supermodel she usually is now. Yet this is the same woman who just needs a face of someone she doesn't like... just to get rid of them.

You aren't sure how she does it but what you do know is she admitted it. When you first were dragged here, Misa admitted she's been planning this. Your friends disappearances were no accidents.

That's what kept you scared of angering her. You've seen her snap by this point. When you don't reciprocate... She gets irritated....

So playing doll is your best bet.

You don't bother fighting when Misa pulls out an outfit from the bag. It's black yet on closer inspection you can see what looks like glitter. You don't comment on it, simply scooting closer so the model can dress you.

There isn't much talk between you. Well, talk you reciprocate as most of it is Misa cooing over you as she compliments how you look. You silently resign yourself to playing dress up with Misa as she puts the first outfit on your body.

"You look so cute in those clothes! I think I picked well...." Misa finally squeals as she pulls back. She pulls down the outfit to properly fit you. You internally grimace... not enjoying how tight the outfit clings.

You wonder if she did that on purpose.

"Aren't you cute?" Misa chirps, looking at you expectantly. You hesitate, watching her nervously. Yet when you see a familiar darkness in her gaze... you answer with a quick nod and hum.

Misa appears pleased at your response. Pleased enough to squeal again and tug you into her arms. Your breath hitches, panicking before forcing yourself to calm down as Misa cradles you.

She babbles childishly towards you as she squeezes you tight. You feel her nuzzling into your neck, softly kissing your skin as she holds you. You lean limply against her... like the doll she wants you to be.

"I want to be this close... forever...." Misa murmurs hopefully as she holds you like a child with a toy. You squirm a bit when she sits on the bed and pulls you on her lap. However, a tight squeeze around your hip is enough to prevent your fight.

"If you look cute in this one... I bet you'll look cute in all of them!" Misa comments, mostly to herself as she looks over the clothes she bought. You reluctantly sit on her lap, hiding the fatigue in your eyes.

The way Misa holds you... the way Misa dresses you... it make you feel less than human. You feel like a pet, coddled and held... always waiting for their owner to come home. The thought makes you want to cry but you've learned to hold it back.

Having Misa come home and pay attention to you like this reminds you of what she's forced you to be...

A pretty doll for her to caress and coo over... a toy for her to love... yet not a proper partner with the freedom you wish you had.

[brightlotusmoon]

As a child in the 1980s, I'd read a science fiction story about I think the 2020s. Online shopping, telehealth, telecommunication overall was so embedded that most people didn't need to leave their houses, which had robots and machine learning and futuristic furnishings including weather control. Kids went to school via screens and computers.

A little boy gets sick with a cold (he breathed into a tube for the computer) and while his parents care for him, they decided to buy him a new bicycle. And they decided to go to the physical store to pick it up and drive it home. When they got to the store, everyone stared in shock, especially when they touched the bike. When they brought the bike home, they explained that when they were kids they could go to the store all the time.

I think it ended with the boy riding his bike around his backyard and thinking about The Old Days.

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 19 Taken

(Violence, fantasy racism, kidnapping, death)

His side twinged, but he winced and kept tracking his quarry. It was not difficult, given their vehicles and the way they marched the troops and their prisoners.

A surge of anger rolled through him and he pressed on, the pain in his side forgotten. It had been his own fault, when his mentor had pushed him out of the way of the attacking soldiers. It had saved his life, but his mentor’s had been lost.

Along with most of the village they protected; the warders had failed. His shame in surviving could only be alleviated by finding the children that had been taken.

In the smoldering wreckage he had found his dying mother. She had weakly cried out for his sibling, using their diminutive nickname for the child—Ijna. When he made his occasional visits to the village—as a young man, he made more frequent trips than his elders tended to—he would be sure to visit his mother, and had been fond of Ijna, with skin as coal-dark as Mother’s. Their dark hair had turquoise streaks to match their bright eyes. A small, slight child, but he had once been, too, and had often assured the little one that someday they would grow as large and strong as himself—perhaps moreso, if they were a girl.

His sibling was among those stolen.

His nose caught the stench of ceruleum. His lips twisted in a snarl and he took to the tree branches.

The chief had defied the imperial officers who came to make demands, and the warders had harried them. They thought they had made the Garleans leave their valley. They had been terribly wrong, as the invaders had returned in force.

He did not know what he would do, when he rescued the children. He would figure that out once safely away from the camp.

They had stopped for the night, a pavilion set up for the officers to dine and sleep in. Troops who were not attending to their superiors patrolled the perimeter, or guarded the vehicle where the children huddled. They had been allowed to relieve themselves in a trench, and given some rations to eat the same as the soldiers. Then returned to the bed of the truck, where they huddled together for comfort and warmth under not enough thin blankets.

“Wretched little beasts,” one of the soldiers under his chosen branch said to a fellow. “And the Praefectus thinks they can be citizens?”

The other shrugged. “That’s the Emperor’s idea. If they will not submit, make them wish they had, as one way or another, they will be civilized. These brats shouldn’t be as feral as the adults, and there’s a school where they’ll be tamed of their savage ways.”

The first made another derogatory sound. “Even so, no one will mistake them for anything but beasts with those ears.” The two laughed and continued on their patrols.

He grit his teeth and waited.

Eventually the camp settled in for the night. There were soldiers taking their turn at patrol, at guarding the children. They were more lax than they could have been, thinking they had dealt with all of the village’s adults.

He handled the wandering patrols first, with careful, silent arrows for the first, and a dagger across the throat of the second. The high collars of their lightly armored uniforms, in addition to the rounded helms they wore, made it difficult, but there was hardly any sound, and no one came to investigate. He deposited the bodies in the woodline and crept toward the truck.

The children heard him coming, even if their Garlean guard did not. He gestured for them to keep quiet, uncertain if they could see him in the dark. Even silent, their stirring and looking around put their guard on alert. He would have to be swift. He drew his bow and—

A light snapped on, blinding him as he was exposed. “I knew it!” one of the officers growled. “Kill him, and search for more! He may be a scout for a war band!”

They were already firing their weapons as he dashed into the woods. The children screamed and shouted, their guards yelling at them. His ears picked up Ijna’s particular keening cry before it was cut off, the child struck by a guard.

A bullet hit his calf, another his bicep, and one tore a long graze along his side. He cried out as pain erupted through him and he fell, tumbling down a bank, bruised and cut from the fall. The soldiers were above him, he had to move but gods help him everything not bruised was on fire, and his older injury had reopened.

“Been awhile since I’ve been on a rabbit hunt,” a distant voice said, cruel laughter answering.

He tried to crawl forward, into the thorny bramble and the swift stream he heard on its other side. He had to get away, had to heal, had to pick up the trail later and find the children. He owed it to his mentor, he had promised his mother…

More gunshots, more fiery pain blooming across his body. His blood flowed freely, pooling around him, his leathers and green clothes stained. He couldn’t move, no matter how he wanted to.

He had failed.

Boots tromped close. His vision faded.

“Ijna, I’m sorry,” he tried to say, hardly enough breath for it.

“Damned savages,” a soldier said, pressing the muzzle of a weapon against his head.

[gibbysoup]

🌙 𝓗𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼 🐈‍⬛

Chris x reader

“Oh come on, it’s just a bunch of hocus pocus”

Chapter 2

The cold October wind blew in y/n’s face as she followed the boys to the Sanderson Cottage. Nick and Chris seemed to be arguing as they didn’t agree on which way to go.

“I told you, you idiot we have to go this way, it’s quicker and not totally in the woods..” Nick argued at Chris.

Chris shook his head as he listened to Nick yap about not going the right way. “Whatever man..besides we’re gonna end up on the Forrest anyway…” he told him.

Nick eyes practically rolled to the back of his head with Chris’s response. “Whatever, hope you get a fucking tick well you’re walking through all that tall grass.” Nick shot back.

This caused you to snicker, and Dani to look up at you. “So, which one do you think is cute again?” She asked y/n. “It’s Chris right?”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she looked down at her sister, hoping that the boys were too caught up in arguing to notice the two girls behind them talking. But non the less y/n shushed Dani. “Would you keep it down a bit?” She asked, but then answered her question. “And yeah..it’s Chris.” She said.

Dani shrugged a bit. “I think nick is my favorite..he said he liked my costume..and he likes purple.”

—————

Y/n, the triplets, and Dani walked up to the outside of the Sanderson cottage. Dani grabbing her older sister’s hand tightly as they approached it.

“Legend has it that the bones of a hundred children are buried within these walls.” Matt said, taking the keys from his pocket and going to unlock the door.

That definitely didn’t help Dani’s worries at all. “Oh, great.” She said. Before they entered, Chris went up to y/n and Dani.

“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna let anything happen to guys okay?” He said, glancing down at Dani to assure her that she was gonna be okay. He then caught a glimpse of y/n. “I’ll protect ya..”

“Well, I don’t think anything is gonna happen in there, but thank you for offering your services..” she told him, a slight smirk on her face as she still held her disbelief for the supernatural. She knew she had to play it cool.

Matt was finally able to get the door open by jamming his shoulder into it. “Alright, it’s open..” he said, signaling the others to come in.

As the four teens and on child enter the collage, it’s pitch black. “I can’t see a thing.” Dani stated, her eyes trying to adjust to the darkness.

“Well there’s a light switch around here somewhere.” Matt said, carefully trying to find his way around the place.

Y/n found a display of lighters and picked one up, flicking the light on, giving them a small glow so they could see a little. “I found a lighter.” She said, going over to Matt to help him find the light switch. Once it was found, Matt turned it on.

Y/n blinked a couple times and let her eyes adjust to the bright lights of the cottage. “That’s better.” She said, flicking the lighter off then pocketing it.

As the group looked around at the Sanderson sister’s old things, unbeknownst to them, Something watches them from outside the house, watching every move they made. Almost as if it was guarding the house.

“Here’s the original cauldron, and upstairs is where they slept.” Nick said, playing tour guide as he pointed to each thing. They move over to where the ‘book’ is in a display case.

“This is the spell book of Winifred Sanderson. It was given to her by the devil himself. The book is bound in human skin and contains the recipes for her most powerful and evil spells.” Nick explained. It was obvious he was the most knowledgeable about this stuff, so Chris and Matt let him play the lead. He just got so excited about this stuff.

Dani on the other hand, seemed to be a bit freaked out by all the which artifacts. “I get the picture.” She said. As Nick continued to explain the stories to her, a certain candle caught the attention of y/n.

“What’s that?” She asked, looking at Chris.

“Oh.” He said, the leaned into y/n and whispered. “that’s the black flame candle.” He said, trying to freak her out a bit.

She went over and read the sign by the candle “Black Flame Candle. Made from the fat of a hangman. Legend says that on a full moon it will raise the spirits of the dead when lit by a virgin on Halloween light.” She then pulled the lighter out of her pocket. “So let’s light the sucker and meet the old bats..” she turned to Chris. “Wanna do the honors?” She asked him.

“No thanks.” Chris said, immediately shaking his head. Nick turned his head and looked over at y/n, who was standing by the candle and messing with the lighter.

“Hey don’t go messing with that are you crazy?” He walked over to her as she was still holding the flame a little too close to the wick of the candle.

“Oh so you’re saying I shouldn’t put it any closer?” She egged on, moving to light the candle, but then her arm was immediately attacked by a black cat. She shrieked in shock and pain as the cat’s claws scratched her.

Chris immediately grabbed the cat and was able to get it off her, then putting them down, making them scurry away. “Where the hell did that come from? Jesus are you okay?” He asked, walking over to y/n to see if she was alright. He took her arm into his hands gently, seeing the claw marks on the sleeve of her jacket.

She couldn’t help but feel her cheeks heat up when he touched her, but it wasn’t just that he was touching her, it was the genuine concern that he had for her that was making her fall for him more than she already was.

She snapped out of her thoughts and nodded. “Yeah..I don’t think they drew blood so we’re good.” She said, catching her breath a little. He nodded, taking his hand away from her arm.

Dani, on the other hand, was now slightly panicked. “Okay, y/n, you’ve had your fun. It’s time to go. Come on, guys..” she said to the group.

The boys looked at one another and seemed to agree.

“Y/n, she’s right, let’s go.” Nick said.

“Yeah and we’re technically not even supposed to be here..” Matt interjected.

Y/n scoffed, flicking on the lighter once more. “Oh, come on, it’s just a bunch of hocus pocus.”she lights the candle and the flame turns black. Her face immediately dropped. “Uh oh.”

Suddenly the flames of the chandelier pop. The floor boards under their feet begin to move as a green light shines from below. Suddenly it stops. Once it was quiet, everyone looked at each other, unsure of what to say next.

“What happened?” Y/n asked, wondering if this was all just some sick prank, that the boys had set up.

“A virgin lit the candle….”

Taglist: @keerahsturn @fratbrochrisgf @izzykinzz678 @st7rnioioss @jamiesturniolo @v33angel @kaisturni @valkatriee @sturnschrissy @moonk1ss3d @bsham14

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Diesel Is Desire, You Were Playing With Fire

A/N: It's still day six of @nessianweek, right? Just posting a teensy bit later than I intended! 😬 Anywho! What better way to celebrate Lady Death and the Lord of Bloodshed than the two of them being hot and covered in blood? And simping about it? Am I right? Hope everyone enjoys!

Read on AO3

The pounding in his head seems to radiate from the left side, a constant thrum near his temple and gnawing straight through his mind. It has a low ringing still niggling in his ears, has pressure building behind his eyes, as Cassian slowly opens them. The instant flare of light leaves him wincing, but as his eyes adjust, he realizes just how dim it actually is around him, most of the light spilling in from torches in the hall beyond.

Dim and damp.

There’s a cool dampness that clings to the air around him, to the stone pressing against Cassian’s cheek. With a soft grunt, he tries to push himself up into a seated position, only to find his hands bound, metal scraping and tugging at the skin of his wrists when he tries to move. He rolls over enough that his gaze can follow the chain of the shackles up and into the stone wall. Some more shifting brings his attention to the rope tightly bound around his wings, and he dares to test out the strength of the restraint, grunting in frustration when there's no give.

“Well, look who’s finally awake.”

A hand digs into Cassian’s hair, tugging against the wound there until he’s yanked up and into a seated position. He blinks a few times against the pain and comes face to face with the hard, brown eyes and arrogant sneer of Maelor.

Of course.

Of course, this male decided to pick back up the mantle that Kallon and his little band left behind. Cassian still remembers when Maelor was a youngling in the rings, over throwing punches and refusing to follow any orders.

“Are you finding your accommodations comfortable, General?”

Cassian hums, making a big show of looking around the room. He notes just how small the room is, the single exit along the opposite wall. The metal bars of the door look sturdy, but the rust on the hinges look promising.

“You could consider hanging some art on the walls,” Cassian drawls, flicking his gaze back to Maelor.

The male looks unimpressed with the comment, eyes flashing and teeth pulling back over his bared teeth. Cassian bites back a smirk. It’s too easy to get a rise out of the male. Barely through the Blood Rite means the male is still too green, still unseasoned about this sort of thing. And probably too stupid to have really thought through this little plan beyond the rage Maelor is letting get the better of him.

“But I suppose I’ve seen worse,” Cassian continues, shrugging his shoulders as much as his restraints will allow. “Than wherever here is.”

Maelor snorts. “Nice try. As if I’d tell you that. I’m not stupid.”

Cassian bites his tongue around his disagreement, against pointing out the obvious. “Can’t be too far from the western steppes where I was patrolling. I presume that’s where you attacked.”

“You didn’t even hear me coming,” Maelor tells him, puffing out his chest like a preening child. “You’re losing your touch, Lord of Bloodshed.”

“Still, we both know you don’t have the strength to carry or fly me that far, so let me guess, an old converted cellar in the deserted Wirmlowe camp?”

Maelor’s fists clenching is the only confirmation that Cassian needs. “It doesn’t matter. You’re still the one in chains. Still the one who will pay for your crimes against the Blood Brothers.”

“Blood Brothers? Really? That’s the name you decided on.”

The sound of the back of Maelor’s hand across his cheek is loud in the small space, ringing off the stone walls around them. Cassian chuckles at the display, another blatant show of the untampered emotions from an inexperienced warrior.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Cassian tells him, working his jaw against the sting. “Nes likes my pretty face.”

“I don't have time for this,” Maelor mumbles, spinning on his heel and stalking back toward the door.

“There’s still time, you know. To let me go and pretend this whole thing never happened,” Cassian calls after him, shaking his head solemnly as he leans casually against the wall. “I mean it's your life on the line, but…”

Maelor whirls back around, that sneer back on his face. “Your precious High Lord isn’t coming for you.”

Cassian chuckles again. This male really is more stupid than he looks. “Oh, it's not Rhys you have to worry about.”

As if on cue, the door behind Maelor’s back explodes off its hinges, the force sending the male flying to the ground, the metal bars crushing him against the stones. Silver flickers and floods into the room, those flames echoed in a pair of eyes now standing in the open doorway. Now narrowed firmly on Cassian.

There’s no stopping Cassian’s grin at the sight. He’d felt that familiar warm thrum in his chest as soon as he’d come to. Felt that gentle tug that informed him the other end of that golden thread was drawing closer. And now here she stands, silver still simmering and weaving at her fingertips, leathers clinging to her frame, and hair pulled away to show off the sharp angles of her face. To give Cassian the perfect view of one of his favorite expressions painted across her face.

“One night. One date night, and you had to get yourself kidnapped.”

“Hello to you too, sweetheart.”

Nesta steps further into the room, moving lithely over Maelor’s body with ease. “If you didn’t want to go to the ballet tonight, you could have just said.”

“You really think this was my doing?” Cassian asks, holding up his bound wrists in emphasis. “Think this is what I want?”

The left side of Nesta’s lips lift up into a smirk, the blue of her eyes sparking in that way Cassian’s always loved. “Well, we both do know how much you love to be tied up.”

“Only when it’s you doing the tying.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, but there’s no hiding the fondness in her expression. It has Cassian’s grin stretching wider across his face, has warmth bubbling between his ribs. She finally turns her attention toward Maelor’s body, crouching down and rooting around until she locates the keys on his person. As she focuses on unlocking the shackle around each of Cassian’s wrists, he can’t help but stare at her face, especially so close to his.

All these years and it’s still such a problem for him, tracing the planes of her high cheekbones, the faint freckles that he knows are echoed more prominently across her shoulders, each dark eyelash framing a pair of icy blue eyes. Gods, he’s truly the luckiest male, and he’s sure his dopey smile only reflects the sentiment.

The shackle on Cassian’s right hand releases, and he winces slightly, taking a moment to flex his fingers and turn his wrist. It’s at that exact moment that shouts echo from above them, what sounds like thundering steps growing closer and closer.

“Didn’t you check the whole perimeter before storming in here?”

Nesta sighs through her nose, pressing the key into Cassian’s freed hand. “If you’re going to critique my rescuing, then you can rescue yourself next time.”

She pushes back to her feet, unsheathing Ataraxia. She resets her stance, lifting her sword aloft and readying for the rebels that come storming into the room. Four males by Cassian’s count, and the Mother only knows how many more there could be on the way. Each one wears a sneer, wears a look of pure rage and blood lust, and it’s all directed at Nesta.

Directed at his mate.

Cassian swears softly under his breath. He focuses his attention on unlocking the shackle around his left wrist, even as the clanging reverberation of metal on metal bounces off the walls around him. When he’s finally free, he scrambles toward Maelor’s body, unsheathing the male’s blade and jumping to his feet.

He’s quick to turn his attention toward the first male he sees in front of him. He’s as unseasoned and undisciplined as Maelor, the male’s tell before he strikes forward obvious. It’s almost too easy the way Cassian is able to parry the strike, and he sends the male’s sword skittering across the stone before he sinks his own into the Illyrian’s gut. When the male drops to his knees, Cassian finishes the job, the feel of warm blood across his knuckles all too familiar.

His eyes flit around the rest of the room, finding Nesta squaring off against two males. For a moment, he can do nothing but stare, but watch his gorgeous mate. Her feet move with all the grace and lithe speed of a dancer, parrying and dodging each male’s attempted strikes against her. Ataraxia arches through the air as she slashes across one of the male’s chest, blood splattering across her leathers, her cheek. She turns fully toward the other male, preparing to square off solely with him, but it means she doesn’t see the third male now approaching her from behind, in her blindspot.

There’s no stopping the red that floods Cassian’s vision, instincts roaring through his veins and clawing through his chest.

He rushes forward, the weight of the sword in his hands, the swing of it, second nature to him even with the unfamiliarity of this particular blade. The male crumples into a pile of limbs and blood, and Cassian turns back toward Nesta with a winning grin, his mate having already disposed of the other Illyrian male.

“You’re welcome.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at his teasing drawl, but then those eyes are widening. She lunges forward, and there’s a soft, gurgling grunt right by Cassian’s ear, the distinct sound of metal sinking into soft flesh. He turns his head and meets the unfocused gaze of a fifth male, Nesta flicking Ataraxia upward to finish the job before pulling it free.

“You’re welcome,” she mocks back, that teasing smirk back on her face. “You’re losing your touch in your old age, General.”

Cassian chuckles, reaching his non-sword hand up and trying to wipe the blood from Nesta’s cheek. It’s unfair really, the way she looks even more beautiful with the streak of red across her skin, the splattering that reaches up toward her brow. With the silver still simmering in her eyes, Cassian thinks he might be falling in love all over again.

He leans down, bumping his nose against hers. “Careful, Lady Death.”

“What the fuck?”

Cassian pulls back, turning just as three more males come rushing through the door and into the room, more footsteps still echoing from above. Cassian almost wants to laugh. How big could this rebel group be? There couldn’t really be that many males that wanted to follow Maelor of all people.

Either way, Cassian and Nesta reset their stances, settling back to back with their respective swords raised. It’s a practiced dance between them, the way they move so in sync. With every offensive strike forward that Nesta takes, Cassian takes a defensive parry back. They spin in place together, taking on and felling each Illyrian that dares to raise a sword against them.

Despite the familiarity of a sword in his hand, the weight of the borrowed one is not, the balance not quite right either. One lucky swipe by the male he’s facing, and the sword in Cassian’s hand goes sailing out of his grip. He quickly switches to hand-to-hand, landing a strong uppercut that knocks the male unconscious. Shaking out the throb in his knuckles, Cassian spins back toward Nesta, placing his hands on her shoulders to hold her steady.

“What are you doing?” Nesta gets out between gritted teeth, still swinging Ataraxia.

“I need a weapon. Hold still.”

Cassian shifts his hands up into Nesta’s hair, finding the dagger disguised as a hair pin that he knows is always hidden out of sight there. He pulls the dagger free, the golden brown strands of Nesta’s hair tumbling free down along her spine. Her hair sways and glints from the torch light with her every movement, and Cassian has to remind himself of the situation they’re currently in before he gets distracted again.

“You know,” Cassian begins, whirling back around and using the dagger to take down another male. “As far as date nights go…”

“Don’t you dare,” Nesta seethes, sweeping out a male’s feet from under him and driving Ataraxia into his chest.

“I’m just saying that–”

“Mother save me, you would be enjoying this.”

Cassian sinks the dagger into the neck of the Illyrian in front of him. “Can you blame me?”

With the last of the Illyrian rebels a crumpled heap against the stone floor, Cassian is able to return his attention to Nesta, to sweep his eyes over her and really take her in. Her hair hangs like a curtain around her face, framing it the way Cassian loves best, even with the blood now making a mess of the strands. There’s still blood on her face too, contrasting with the bright blue of her eyes, sparking and flaring with the adrenaline and magic still coursing through her. With Ataraxia still clutched in her bloodied hands and the Illyrian leathers clinging to her frame, she’s a dream. And with the half a dozen males slain by her hand at her feet, Cassian is almost embarrassed to admit how aroused he feels.

His mate. His wife. His Nesta.

“I’m only a male after all.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she sheathes Ataraxia, stepping closer into Cassian’s space and pressing up onto her toes so she can wrap her arms around his neck, pushing the rope from his wings and finally freeing them.

“Just so you know, this doesn’t actually make up for tonight.”

Cassian chuckles, sliding his own arm around her waist and tugging Nesta’s body flush against him, right where she belongs. “I’ll have Rhys see if the ballet can do an extra performance. Just for you, sweetheart.”

“Good. It’s the least you could do after I rescued you, you big bat.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata

[makelovetomebypeach]

art donaldson is reader’s ex from college, except you two never really broke it off. at least not properly.

a/n: this isn’t proofread lmfao this was written in the middle of the night i was bored but enjoyyy

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you were looking around a gift shop for a friend visiting the city. it was nearing the end of her trip and you wanted to give her a goodbye gift to remember the moment.

the day was cold, snow falling on the streets as cars honked by. thick jackets, winter festivals, christmas trees in the windows of random houses on the street. the entirety of earth settling down to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year.

you knelt down, scanning the shelves for mugs, keychains, you name it. picking out a gift for a friend was a great art you took specialty in.

“lils, don’t run around like that with glass in your hand. drop it and i’ll have to pay.”

you nearly dropped the item in your hand at the sound. a voice that haunts you each day, one that never left your mind. what was his presence doing here?

you were cursing yourself in your mind, putting down the item almost immediately. you didn’t want anything to do with him or his life.

suddenly, a tap on your shoulder causes you to turn around. your gaze meets his beauty, the sculpture of a face he owns. he was a piece of art. literally.

the first exchange of awkward glances soon turn to smiles. past experiences flooding back in a couple seconds of silence.

“i knew it was you.” did you really know? i don’t think you remembered me at all. unless i was stored in the back of your mind like i had always wished. did you miss me too?

“oh my gosh, i haven’t seen you in forever.” you pried a smile on your face as he gave you a side hug. the proximity of your faces sickening knowing that if you’d lasted it would’ve been different.

art took a glance at the girl standing cluelessly beside him. her hand tugging on his jacket as she held up a keychain with a smile. he knelt down, nodding his head and setting a kiss on her curls before she continued her adventure. art’s attention turning back to yours after a huff from the parenting.

“that’s my daughter lily.” “that’s nice, how old?” “seven.”

seven years, and more, he spent getting over me. i never really let go. you keep a leash on my neck even though you’ve got your life together. a child? a wife? a fucking career? why do i feel so magnetized by your invisible presence? why do i, after all these years, hold so much against you, but in reality, there is nothing at all?

“are you and your family just visiting?” you wanted him to come over sometime so that you could excuse yourselves to the bathroom and make out and possibly find your spark again. would that be so evil? you didn’t think so.

he puffed his cheeks, nodding as his hands stuffed into his pockets. “just for a bit, yeah.” the signature side smile that tugged his lips made you have déjà vu.

you were proud of him for doing what you couldn’t, moving on. he found himself a life, one without you, and definitely more successful. did his wife know that you were the one he slept with at night before her? you were the one who ran your fingers through his blond curls? how did he throw you away so easily as if you were never there?

“i missed you.” “i did, too.” “no, i mean like, i really fucking missed you.”

your eyes glistened with something more. yearning, the unresolved question that hung in the air. you didn’t know whether to cry on the spot. everything was full with question marks, anger, sadness, mixes and mixes of emotions that took too much mind to handle. your breath hitched with hesitation. a reassuring smile from art, wiping the tension away.

his smile signaling his acceptance of my thoughts before speaking. “it was real, all of it. and i’m sorry for throwing it under the rug like that. we’re both well past that now, i hope. please forgive the immature mess i was back in college,” his voice paused, like a barrier to the words that were urging to come out.

his hand slipped out the pocket of his jacket, setting it on your shoulder. please, console me, my lover. help me leave the role of being the biggest fish in your sea. no matter how many hooks go through my body, i will always come back to the surface to show you my scales.

“i have to go, but i wish you a happy holidays from my family. you’ll find the one, alright?”

your breath shuddered as you saw art walk away with his daughter hand in hand. their presence disappearing like the intimacy that once remained. the bells ringing as a sign that he was gone, that was his exit. the closure that you so desperately needed all those years.

your story was always destined to be tragic. you were left behind in a dusty cloth, an heirloom soon to be found near his deathbed.

it hurts to know that you will never be loved by anyone like art donaldson again. he was only temporary to your story. you still have a journey that continues, why shed on the past if he’d already moved on?

it was worth knowing that the love was there, and it might still remain, just left unspoken.

you won’t welcome him back anymore. you won’t stay on his doorstep, scratching on the door to find your place again. instead, you’ll be waving goodbye to him from the dock, watching him getting shipped off to sea.

this is our goodbye, art. thank you for stopping by.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Because I think I might get around writing for most of the men at some point for the future au I wanted to see or already arrange how many kids they would have

Jin would have two kids in complete accident, he was very happy by his father's discontent at his heir's lack of kids but things happened, the person who celebrated them the most was the grampa. Maybe two boys or a boy and a baby girl.

Thoma screams girl dad, doesn't he? Just imagine him braiding her hair for evening tea and being a menace to any boys she brings home with Alan if they break her heart, he is still a delinquent at heart.

For Luca I'm split between wanting him to have two boys to mirror him and his brother or a spoiled girl he plays knight for, sigh, such a hard decision...

Kaito, how did he reproduce?

Alan, two kids, one of each, no hesitation, he has a ‘little princess’ who he is nervous of hurting accidentally when he holds her but is as much of a wild beast as his brother. They like going hiking and getting chased by their dad when they get too close to a lake or too far away from the path.

In Leo’s scenario i see him with a daughter that managed to soften out his meanness (while she is around so she doesn't pick up on much of his sass, kids don't make miracles) and left him with another on the way that I also feel would be another girl. He is just a bit annoyed he doesn't have to redo the nursery for content but whatever.

Sho I KNOW that in his fic I said ‘nephew’ but imagine a baby girl that was playing with her family before she was even born and had you two scattering to find a girl's name at the hospital. It's just the beginning of her mischievous streak. Sho thinks it's his karma from being a thug as a teen.

I don't know why but I can see Romeo having three kids? Maybe because Gucci had like five kids or it's to a certain degree to assure himself the MC wants to stay with him and wouldn't leave out of the blue 💔 attachment issues bb.

Ritsu originally only wanted one child, he was an only child and was happy getting all the attention, but not everything went as he planned so he got twin boys.

Taiga, why would you do this to yourself??

Haru already has a son, peekaboo, but when he grows up he accidentally has a boy who he starts giving some minor tasks around, separating some leaves for the animals, brushing peekaboo’s hair, plucking weeds, etc etc. Don't look at him like that! He need all the help he can get.

Towa has girls! They like fairy tales with happy endings and always bother their dad to tell them your love story. When they become toddlers they go through a vegan phase to mimick him and will cry if they have meat or egg on their plate.

Ren was 99% sure he was going to die a virgin. He ends up with a girl he plays games with everyday after work. Borderline ipad kid.

Can grandpa Ed even have kids? Lol if he has I think I could see him with just one vampy baby that sits next to him and drinks tears off a sippy cup while his dad watches iceberg videos. Another ipad kid.

Rui (if somehow you broke his curse) is someone who I don't think would have kids, or at least not planned jajs but maybe one girl that he ends up overprotecting from playboy men like him in his youth.

Lyca I want to say they have a litter just for the joke of him being a werewolf but he doesn't seem to have any siblings so the joke doesn't get far :(

I see Subaru with only one child if any. He loves the little thing but feels he is intruding on their privacy, whenever he touches his preteen/teen kid he feels sorry enough to apologize.

I see Haku as someone who would be pretty chill with his life after Darkwick and go along with it as it happened. If you two had a child, great; if you didn't, great too. Very go with the flow parenting too.

Zenji he is dead wth jajajaj

Yuri NEEDS a little child that is always so impressed with their papa and he gets to brag about being the best or something. Please just don't let him be a strict teacher so your kid will follow his steps, he thinks it's for the best of their future but you can coerce him into just giving a very lengthy lecture about anomalous medicine without tests.

Jiro HAS to have a boy that is so similar to his uncle 🥹 always cooing since he is able to vocalize and chasing his dad around to get uppies while he tends to the backyard filled with herbs.

[miss-bushido]

our bodies are oh so close and tight

written for @steddiesmuttyseptember week three, using the prompt 'rough' Title from the song 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light' by Meatloaf

Also inspired by this tweet from @_cydonic: “young, bratty Steve who always calls for his father's car when he's working so that Mr Harrington's long-time, trusted driver Eddie can fuck him nasty in the back of the rolls 🥰”

Rating: E

“Going somewhere, Steven?” his Mother asks as he walks past her in the living room, adjusting the sleeves of his navy blue blazer. She doesn’t look up from her latest bodice-ripper romance book, so he knows he can be vague in his response.

“Yes, Mother. Just out to meet the guys.”

“Mmm, make sure you drive safely.” He can see her interest in the conversation is waning as her eyes keep moving over the words on the page. She even reaches for her glass of Chablis. It must be a very interesting passage.

“Eddie will make sure that I get there in one piece,” Steve answers. There is no response to that. His Mother sips her wine, and is now fully engrossed again in her story.

It’s just as well. He doesn’t think she’ll even wait up for him. She never does.

And he doesn’t know what time he’ll come back home. Not that the Harrington’s ever cared when their son came home. He tested it once: stayed out for three days, sleeping in a different girl’s bed every night. When he finally came home, they barely registered it.

This kind of parental neglect has been going on since Steve can remember. Their wealth let them spoil him with all the toys, experiences, cars and vacations a young man could want. There were a myriad of tutors, nannies, personal assistants as well. Their boy would never want for anything.

Except for affection and love from his parents. The Harrington’s did not give this to their only child readily, and on some level they must have felt guilty over it, because they let him do whatever he wanted. Steve was spoiled and willful and bratty, and no one was around to check him on this attitude.

Until the Harrington’s hired their chauffeur, that was.

Eddie Munson was like nothing and no one Steve had ever encountered before. He was in his mid-twenties, with dark hair and deep brown eyes. He had an air of something about him: a hint of danger that only Steve picked up on.

He also didn’t take any shit from The Brat, as he had christened Steve.

The first time he’d tested Eddie was about six months after he’d been hired, almost three months ago now. He’d walked over to the garage where the Harrington’s cars were kept, just as Eddie was finishing wiping down the interior of the Rolls, his tongue poking out in concentration as he moved the damp rag over the steering wheel.

“I want you to drive me somewhere,” Steve said by way of greeting, brushing a piece of imaginary lint off of his blazer.

Eddie moved out of the driver’s seat, rag in hand. His hair, usually kept hidden by his chauffeur’s cap, was loose and long, brushing the tops of his shoulders. The white tank top he wore showed all the tattoos he’d kept hidden under his chauffeur’s jacket, along with the strong arms he had. “I just finished detailing the car, so it’ll have to wait-”

Steve sighed heavily, as if this was the most inconvenient thing in the world. “I don’t care. I want you to drive me-”

“No,” Eddie said.

“No?” Steve repeated, hazel eyes wide. No one had ever told him ‘No’ before. “Who do you think-”

“I don’t know who you think you are,” Eddie cut him off, voice even with a hint of anger, “but I’m not the one.”

“I’m your boss’s son, is who I am,” Steve answered, eyebrows furrowed as he came closer to Eddie.

“You’re a brat, is what you are,” Eddie retorted.

Steve blinked dumbly, not sure what to do. This conversation was not going how he’d expected it to go. “What did you say?” he asked, moving so he was in Eddie’s personal space.

Eddie stayed where he was, which was also unexpected. So the two were almost chest to chest. “I said that you’re a brat.” He leaned in as he spoke. “Just because I drive you and your family around doesn’t mean you get to treat me like shit.”

Steve blinked again, but this time at the closeness of their faces. He could see a spray of freckles across Eddie’s cheeks, how pink his lips were, the hint of red in his cheeks from his anger. It made something stir in his gut, an unexpected feeling of arousal.

It wasn’t that Eddie was unattractive: he was actually pretty gorgeous to Steve’s mind. It wasn’t even that he was a guy: Steve had experimented with a few guys in the past. He just hadn’t ever expected to be attracted to someone who would speak to him like this. Like he wasn’t important. Like he wasn’t the spoiled and bratty son of the richest man in town.

“Get away,” Steve managed, pressing his hands on Eddie’s chest to shove him back. He managed to move the chauffeur about an inch before Eddie recovered and grabbed both of Steve’s wrists in his strong hands and pivoted so that he shoved Steve’s body up against the car. Eddie’s left thigh was between Steve’s legs, unaware that he was pressing against Steve’s crotch.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Eddie growled, tightening his grip on Steve’s right wrist. “Do you understand me, brat?”

Steve breathed heavily but didn’t answer. No one had ever been this rough with him before. And he found he kind of liked it. In response to Steve’s lack of one, Eddie pushed his body against Steve’s. The motion of him doing that produced delicious friction of Eddie’s thigh against his crotch that made Steve moan, closing his eyes at the feeling.

Eddie’s eyebrows raised at this development. “You like that, huh, brat?” He asked. When Steve didn’t immediately respond, Eddie moved his thigh again, feeling Steve’s erection clearly now. “You like it when someone corrects your behavior?” He was whispering in Steve’s ear now, his whole body pressed against him.

“Maybe…” Steve managed, his voice already sounding wrecked. He turned to look at Eddie, and felt a shiver run through him at the predatory look the chauffeur was giving him. “Maybe I do.”

“You want me to correct your behavior, huh?” Eddie asked. “Put my hands on you? Punish you?”

“Fuck,” Steve breathed, biting his lip at the imagery.

“First things first,” Eddie said, his left hand moving off of Steve’s right wrist, sliding down Steve’s body before he cupped Steve’s erection. He squeezed lightly, making Steve moan filthily, the sound echoing in the garage. “You don’t get to shove me around. Only I get to do that to you.”

“Yes,” Steve breathed, hips moving against Eddie’s hand. “Yes, God, I want that so much.”

“Good boy,” Eddie said, continuing to palm Steve through his pants. “Second thing: if you piss me off, if you keep acting bratty, I’m going to take it out of your ass.” As if to prove his point, Eddie moved them away from the car so he could give Steve a hard slap on the ass.

“Oh my God,” Steve shouted, his cock kicking in his pants. He’d never been spanked before, and didn’t know if it was because it was new or because it was Eddie doing it, or both, but he felt like he could come in his pants from just that by itself.

Eddie bit his lip at the display before him. He had his boss’s son in the palm of his hand, quite literally. He didn’t know Steve had it in him to be this pliable, this slutty. He found he really liked the power he had over him. “Third thing,” he said, his right hand moving in circles over Steve’s cheeks. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you from now on. I’m the only one you’ll spread for. My pretty little whore.” He punctuated this by giving Steve’s earlobe a bite at the same time as he slipped his hand inside Steve’s pants, stroking his thick cock quickly. “Say it,” Eddie demanded, spanking Steve again as he stroked him.

“Only you,” Steve panted, head tilted forward, his right hand gripping the driver’s side mirror. He shoved his pants down with his left hand, his cock and Eddie’s hand wrapped around it springing free. The slick sounds of his precum sliding up and down his cock could be heard. “Only you get to fuck me,” he continued. “Eddie, fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”

“I can see,” Eddie breathed. He pushed his own pants down so his erection could be taken care of too. He wrapped his right hand around his cock and began stroking himself, getting off on getting Steve off. “Next time, I’m going to fuck you in the backseat, and you better not get cum all over the leather, or I’ll have to punish you.”

“Eddie!” Steve shouted as he came hard, gripping the mirror tightly as he bent forward. His cum dribbled over Eddie’s hands, some of it dripping onto the garage floor.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” Eddie groaned, forcing himself to stop stroking himself. He brought his hand up and licked all of Steve’s release into his mouth.

“I want more,” Steve pleaded. He looked up at Eddie, lust and longing written all over his face. “I want to be in the backseat with you now.”

Eddie pulled Steve in for a kiss, his tongue sliding into Steve’s hot mouth. “You ever been fucked before, brat?”

“Once,” Steve breathed, gripping Eddie’s tank top as they kissed. “I think you’ll be better at it, though.”

Eddie smirked. “Damn right.” He slapped Steve’s bare ass again before he said, “Get in the backseat and bend over.”

Steve kissed his once more before he complied, opening the back door and sliding in so he was facing the passenger side door. He grabbed the edge of the leather seat, and arched his back, waiting for Eddie.

Eddie slid in after Steve, closing the door behind him. “Fuck, your ass looks so good.” He ran a hand over his cheeks, pleased to note the pink spots where he’d spanked Steve. “I have to have a taste.”

Steve cried out, gripping hard to the seat as Eddie spread his cheeks and began tonguing his asshole. No one had ever done this to him, and it was a revelation in pleasure. He felt the wetness of Eddie’s spit, his tongue working inside Steve, punching in and out of him. “Eddie!” he moaned. “God, fuck, it feels so good!”

“This is just the warm up,” Eddie murmured, almost losing himself in eating Steve out. “You taste so fucking delicious. Some day I’m going to eat you out all night.” He felt Steve’s hole clench around his tongue at this. “Sounds like you want that too, huh?”

“Want that, want you, want all of you. God, please, Eddie. Please fuck me!”

Eddie grinned, giving Steve one final lick before he straightened up. “Since you asked so nicely…” he murmured. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the little tub of Vaseline he kept there. It helped keep his hands smooth and soft after he worked on the car. Eddie uncapped it and scooped out a generous amount on his right pointer and middle fingers.

“This’ll be cold,” he warned Steve as he rubbed the lubricant over his hole. He slid both fingers inside Steve slowly, adding lubricant and getting him adjusted quicker. He heard the little hiss of pain Steve made and removed his fingers as quickly as he could. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Do you want me to stop?”

“If you stop, I’ll shove you again,” was the answer. Steve turned his head from where it was currently pressed against the seat, giving Eddie a knowing grin.

Eddie grinned back, returning to the task at hand of getting Steve’s hole nice and lubed and stretched for him. “There’s that brattiness we talked about,” he said, adding more Vaseline to his fingers as he slipped a third one inside of Steve. He slowly fucked Steve on his fingers, feeling him clench each time. “Someone should fuck it out if you.”

“Is that gonna be you?” Steve asked, practically drooling all over the leather.

“Does my little brat want that? Maybe I want to hear you beg a little first,” Eddie said, pulling his fingers out. He rubbed some Vaseline along his cock, which was red and aching from being ignored for so long. “And loudly. I want to make sure I hear you.”

“Please fuck me, Eddie,” Steve begged, the desperation in his voice taking on a fever pitch. Part of him knew that begging was part of the roleplay they’d stumbled onto, but he also was desperate to feel the other man inside him. “Please, please, pleas- oh fuck, yes!”

On the last ‘please’, Eddie began to push inside Steve, groaning loudly at how tight and hot he was. He slid in slowly and then slid back slowly, almost pulling out. “Is it good? Is it okay?” he asked, his own voice ragged, his hands clutching desperately at Steve’s hips.

“Don’t stop!” Steve begged, pushing back.

It was all Eddie needed. He thrust back inside of Steve, setting a rough rhythm as he fucked him. “You’re so tight,” he breathed. “Such a tight little whore. Can’t get enough of me, can you?” He heard Steve gasp, felt him clench around him. “Say it,” he ordered, delivering a slap to Steve’s ass again.

“I can’t get enough!” Steve yelled, a desperation in his voice. He was leaking precum everywhere all over the seat. Eddie’s words about punishing him if he got cum all over the backseat reverberating through his head. “I want all of you. Only you, please. Please Eddie!” He didn’t know what he was begging for at this point, but that didn’t matter as long as Eddie didn’t stop fucking him.

Eddie felt a shudder run through him, his hips snapping hard against Steve’s as he kept fucking him. “I’m gonna cum in your tight hole,” he panted. “I’m gonna fill you up, make you mine.” He reached between Steve’s legs and began stroking his hard cock, trying to match the rhythm of each stroke to each thrust. “I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

“Only want your cock, your hands, your mouth, oh fuck, Eddie! Eddie, I’m-!” Steve’s words cut off as he came hard while Eddie stroked him, thick ropes of cum spurting out of him.

Eddie gripped Steve’s hip tight with his other hand, the rhythm he’d built up beginning to falter. “Take all of it,” he groaned as he went over the edge, coming so hard inside Steve that he saw white. His whole body shuddered at his release. “God, Steve,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“So are you,” Steve panted, trying to catch his breath. He liked the way his name sounded in Eddie’s mouth. “I want some more.”

Eddie groaned as he pulled out, licking his lips at the sight of his cum leaking out of Steve. “You’ll get some more, brat.” He pinched Steve’s cheek, grinning at the outraged yelp he gave. “First, I gotta clean the car up before this becomes an issue.”

Steve pushed himself up onto his knees, a dull ache in his backside. “So much for the detailing. I got cum all over…” he trailed off as he felt Eddie’s arm wrap around his waist.

“It lets me know I did a good job,” Eddie whispered in his ear, giving his earlobe a light bite. “And I lied: I hadn’t finished detailing the car.”

Steve turned his head to look at Eddie. “Why’d you lie?”

“Because you were being bratty like usual,” Eddie answered. “Are you mad that I lied?”

“No,” Steve said, fully turning to kiss Eddie on the mouth. “Especially not after this.” He deepened the kiss, placing his right hand on Eddie's face.

Eddie broke the kiss to ask, “Did you actually want me to drive you anywhere?”

“I did, but I think I can have a better evening if I stay here with you,” Steve said, giving Eddie’s lower lip a small bite.

“Brat,” Eddie replied, spanking Steve on the ass again, a grin on his face. “Go upstairs and get washed up. Once I clean the car, I’ll be up.”

“But don’t you want to shower with me?” Steve whined, kissing Eddie on the neck, the jaw, everywhere but his mouth. He gasped when Eddie gripped his hair and tilted his head back.

“Do what I say,” Eddie growled, licking a line up Steve’s neck. “I haven’t finished punishing you yet.”

Steve groaned with longing. “Okay,” he breathed, following Eddie out of the car after they both pulled their pants back up.

He was about to go upstairs when Eddie grabbed him by the blazer and pulled him in for a blistering kiss. His hands roamed everywhere on Steve, and when he pulled back, nuzzling their noses together, he started to say, “If it’s too weird or too much…”

“I guess I’ll wait to shower with you after all,” Steve quipped as he pulled out of Eddie’s grasp, a big grin on his face. As he walked upstairs to Eddie’s apartment he heard behind him: “That ass better be on display when I come up there.”

“Why don’t you make me?” Steve called back as he hurried up the stairs, already beginning to shed his clothes.

-

Now back in the present, Steve waits outside at the edge of the walkway. Soon enough, he sees a pair of headlights coming down the driveway, circling and pulling to a stop right in front of him.

Eddie, his Eddie, steps out from the driver’s seat and walks around to the other side, opening the right back passenger door for Steve. “Your chariot, my liege,” he jokes.

“Cute,” Steve replies, running his fingers across the waistband of Eddie’s pants. He is rewarded when Eddie bites his lip, trying to keep his composure. Steve slips his hand further down to palm him over his pants.

Eddie gasps loudly, glaring at Steve as he slides coolly into the car. “Brat,” he hisses. It is said with all the love and affection Steve has always craved.

And it solidifies his decision to tell Eddie he loves him tonight.

After a few spankings, of course.