#THE REAL SCORCH WOULD FUCKING NEVER DO ANY OF THIS AND ALL HE GETS FOR HIS OUT OF CHARACTER CONTENT IS DEATH???????????

[slutcoded-mandogirl]

hey

wait a second

THEY FUCKING KILLED SCORCH

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Run Rabbit✨

A/N: This idea literally came out of nowhere today, so I had to hurry and write it real quick! This idea is based off the song “Run, Rabbit Run!” by Flanagan and Allen. The song would not leave my head, and then I got this image of Joel chasing reader through an abandoned mansion. This one is a tad bit dark, but I hope you enjoy! If you liked this work, please think of reblogging and leaving me comments 🩷 Thank you to @ozarkthedog for being my beta 🥰

Summary: At the beginning of every month, you meet Joel to play a little game of hide and seek at the abandoned mansion near Jackson. It’s not just any game of hide and seek though. It’s dark and it’s twisted. If he catches you, he gets to do whatever he wants with you.

Pairing: Dom! Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Possessive Joel, hide and seek, cat and mouse, Joel chases reader until he finds her, Jackson! Joel, outbreak! Joel, smut, fingering, oral, unprotected p in v, cream pie, dirty talk

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The air is suffocating, the black walls are covered in regret and years of cigarette stench. The dim lights seem to shine down on you like a spotlight as you run as fast as you can through the lavish house. You can hear him calling you, stalking you in the dark shadows like a starving dog hunting to devour fresh meat. 

   “Can’t run from me forever, darlin’. You keep on runnin’, but I’ll eventually find you,” he chuckles as his deep voice reverberates around the echoing halls. 

   You cover your mouth, keeping your body down as you run run run past the expensive statues and monumental paintings of the abandoned mansion. Your throat is on fire the longer you run, your body aching like that of a dying man on his last breath of life. Your legs feel like they’ll give way at any second, but you have to keep going. You can’t give up. Not yet. Not when he’s right on your tail. 

   Tired. You’re so very tired, yet you keep running. Dragging your hollow body down the vine covered corridors of the wide hallways as you gasp for fresh air in your watered down lungs. 

   You fly around a narrow corridor and nearly trip yourself on a bed of dark green vines that bite at your ankles, threatening to take you down as Joel draws closer to you. 

   You can feel his overbearing presence, can taste the whiskey that bleeds inside his thick veins, can feel his large body already crowding yours as if he’s already caught you. He hasn’t caught you yet, but you know he will. He always catches you. 

   This was all a game. A dark, twisted game that started on a cold night in December. You remember the first time he chased you, the first time he tore through all your clothes the minute he captured you and devoured your entirety on that pitch black night. Now, every first Saturday of each month you’d meet him back at this abandoned mansion to play his little game. He called it hide and seek, you called it a deadly game of cat and mouse because you were the mouse, and cats always caught their prey. 

   It’s like you two are stuck in a never ending dance, two souls completely consumed in the other as you spin in circles until one of you collapses. You shouldn’t keep coming back, shouldn’t want to play his dark little games, but yet you come. Every single time, you come, unable to face the reality of a month without his touch, his taste, his growls. You’d let the man do as he wanted because how could you resist those charming, big brown eyes? You couldn’t, you just couldn’t. You were a moth drawn to a flame, and he was the brightest, most dangerous flame of all. Something you wanted to forever be branded by.

   Joel Miller was a fucking menace of society, but he was your menace. So you’d continue the game until one of you stopped breathing. 

   “Where are you, little lamb?” he calls as your breath scorches the vine covered walls. You continue running, twisting around dark corners, running down stone steps, and hiding behind crimson curtains. 

   The next wooden door you come upon is locked tight. No amount of shaking the golden handle or hurling your body into the door will make it budge. You turn your head from side to side. The only way out is from the way you came. The hallway that he is in. Fuck. 

   You gulp down a silent breath and make a run for it, even though you know he’ll be there waiting like a prowling wolf. 

   You take careful steps down the marble hallway and sneak around the cold corner until you see his dark silhouette shining against the reflective flooring. You gasp as your eyes go wide, but before you can run he reaches out a long arm and clasps tightly to your wrist. 

   “There ya are, little lamb. Thought you’d get away from me this time?” he smirks as he wraps his calloused fingers tightly around you and tries to pull you in. 

   “Haven’t caught me just yet,” you laugh as you somehow manage to slip out of his grip and make a run for it. 

   You run down some slippery stone steps and end up at the back of the mansion with vine covered long corridors and twisting mazes of green bushes. You run as fast as you can as the wind sweeps through your long hair, letting the brisk wind set your adrenaline on fire. 

   You manage one glance back and see just how fast he’s creeping up on you. He’s like a lion running after a gazelle, the hunter about to attack the prey with its bare claws. And he will destroy his prey. 

   You take a few more steps, but then you feel a hand claw at your shoulder. He takes you down on the hard floor as you come crashing down to the pit of your doom. Pain radiates through your body, but you brush it off as you crawl forward, trying to escape the man that will take you as his own. 

   “Where do ya think you’re goin’, pretty thing?” he asks darkly as he wraps a hand around your ankle and tugs you in his direction. You hear a squeak escape your mouth like a trapped mouse that just got caught by a giant cat. 

   “I’m running away from you,” you answer back as you kick and try to squirm out of his reach. 

   He obviously has other plans because he drags you back underneath him and turns you flat on your back as he pins your hands above your head, his hips and large thighs caging you in so you can’t break free. He won this round, like he always did. 

   “Didn’t think I’d catch you so soon, little lamb,” he chuckles deeply as the weight of his body hangs over yours entirely. 

   “You just caught me off guard,” you sigh as you see his dark chocolate eyes honing in on yours. They’re so captivating, so damn pretty that you can’t look away. He’s so gorgeous even when you should find him intimidating. 

   “Now you’re mine,” he smirks as his chocolate eyes become darker, more blown out as he hovers his plush lips over yours. “Just what am I gonna do to you tonight, hmm?” he asks as lust fills the void of his dark eyes, making you squirm with anticipation already. You know what you want. You want him. 

   “Maybe I should be a little rough with you, hmm? That what you want?” he asks with the tick of his sculpted jaw, his thick eyebrow raising as he looks at you like he just won the most valuable prize in town. 

   You shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t be feeding his sick mind as he plays his dark games, but you can’t help it. You want it just as bad as he does. You want him to be rough with you. 

   You look at him with wide eyes and smirk right back at him, challenging his dominant side to give in. “So be rough with me,” you whisper back. 

   You see his dark eyes grow large with need as he huffs out through his nostrils. “Open,” he demands as he grabs a hold of your jaw and squeezes, just enough for your lips to part open slightly. He bends his head down and inhales deeply as he spits into your mouth as you feel the warm spit cover your tongue. 

   “Swallow,” he growls as you fully oblige. You close your mouth and swallow as you taste his spit slide down your throat. All hot and moist as you taste him in the back of your throat. And somehow you think it’s so goddamn hot. 

   “Good girl,” he praises as he shifts his weight down and starts unbuttoning your faded denim jeans. 

   “Now, you’re gonna be a good girl for me, right?” he asks as he starts to drag the denim down your legs, feeling a wave of slick slide down your lace panties as your adrenaline kicks in. 

   “Mhm,” you nod as you watch him strip your legs bare, next going to tear off your sticky pink t-shirt while he hovers over the fine lace of your bra, his calloused fingers circling your back as he slowly undoes the clasps. 

   “Gonna let me taste every inch of you, little lamb? Gonna let me fuck you till you can’t take anymore?” he asks as he undoes the last clap and slowly starts to slide the bra free, leaving your full breasts exposed to the chilly night air. The only thing left is your slick covered panties, and then you'll be completely bare. 

   “Yes,” you breathe as he cups your breasts and slides his tongue along the crook of your neck, all teeth and tongue as he nips and bites at your flesh. 

   You can’t help the burn, can’t help the absolute need that courses through your body as his weight encompasses your chest. His hot breath bleeds into your lungs and it’s as if you can breathe fresh air for the first time. His woodsy, whiskey scent makes you dizzy as he slides his wet tongue along your bottom lip as he hovers his weight above you. He’s like a wolf that comes to feed on you in the night, and you’ll gladly let him devour you whole. 

   He snakes his hand down your abdomen and slides his hand underneath your ruined panties as he presses his thumb in between your folds, collecting slick as you groan at the feel of him spreading you wide. 

   “Open up, darlin’. Wanna give you a taste,” he whispers. He slides his thumb in your mouth, and you press your tongue around it, tasting the sweet saltiness of your own arousal as you let it slide down your throat. 

   He opens his mouth and sucks the rest of the slick off as he moans at the taste of you in his system. “You taste so fuckin’ sweet, darlin’. Wanna just eat you up,” he groans as he hovers his lips back over yours, inching closer and closer until you’re practically begging him to drop down on your lips. 

   “Please,” you whine as your hands fist at his green flannel shirt, desperate for him to get closer to you. 

   “Please what?” he smirks as his dark eyes weigh into yours, pools of lust overflowing the edges as his pupils now expand into complete darkness. A predator about to eat his prey up entirely. 

   You have to use all your strength to get any words out, desperate for his touch. “Take me, all of me,” you plead as your eyes search his black pits that burn you alive. 

   “Oh, sweetheart. I’m gonna take it all,” he smirks. 

   Before you have time to respond, he drops his lips on yours and fists your hair as he tugs hard and pries your lips apart as he slots in his wet tongue. He glides his tongue against yours and circles your mouth as you moan against him and drink his whiskey breath down. 

   He breaks apart from your mouth and nips playfully down your neck as he kneads your breasts together. His tongue comes down to circle each nipple, bringing them to life as they harden and pebble for him as you writhe underneath him in pleasure. 

   His experienced hands are everywhere, burning your skin alive as he skates his calloused fingers up and down your glistening body that’s now caked in sweat. He shoves your legs apart and slides the lace down your legs as he sits back and examines your entire naked body that’s on full display just for him. Glistening skin and slick coated folds splay out in front of him, and he looks like a mad man the way he’s looking at you. 

   His nostrils flare as his eyes grow wide, the big black pits scavenging your body as he drags a hand through his thick salt-and-pepper scruff as he groans out a heated response. “Goddamn, little lamb. You’re so fuckin’ wet and ready for me. I can hardly stand it,” he moans as he slides between your legs and pushes your thighs apart, his calloused fingers spreading your folds apart as he spits down in between them and starts running meticulously up and down your open folds as he starts circling your clit slowly. 

   You moan and writhe underneath his fingers, but he just presses a big hand to your stomach and holds you still as he works his fingers up and down your soaked pussy. And it feels so good that you want to crawl out of your own skin as the flames alight in your lower regions. 

   “Fuck,” you moan as he licks a thick strip from your dripping hole all the way to the top of your clit as his nose brushes against the coarse hair that sits above your clit. He inhales a large whiff of you as he groans and wraps his arms around your thighs as he holds you down against the cool ground. 

   “That’s right, little lamb. Gonna have you screamin’ my name by the time I get done with you,” he chuckles darkly as he dives back in. 

   His tongue devours you as he slides it up and down, drawing tight circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves as he sucks you deep into his mouth. He glides his middle and ring finger into your dripping hole and works them in and out as he curls up and hits your spongy walls again and again as his tongue feasts on your clit and his fingers go knuckle deep into your pussy. 

   Your eyes start to roll back as your head hits the hard floor, your body feeling like it’s floating on a cloud as hot heat starts to slide down the base of your spine. Close, you’re so close. Almost there. 

   He growls up at you as he demands your attention right now. “LOOK AT ME,” his voice echoes off the vine covered walls as his dominance sheds through the dim light of the hallway. 

   Your eyes snap up to find blown out dark pupils looking up at you as he sucks you in his mouth expertly. His nail beds dig into your thighs as one of his fists sit knuckle deep in your pussy. You’ve never seen him so wild, so much like a starving wolf that it makes more slick slide down his fingers as he pumps in and out of your drenched walls. 

   He pops your bundle of nerves out of his mouth as he gives you one more long lick as he growls up at you with pure dominance in his words. “Come for me, little lamb. Want ya to scream my name, tell me just who’s makin’ you feel good. Come on, darlin’. Show me how you break,” he smirks as he quickens the pace of his fingers and drops back on your clit as he circles circles circles until you’re seeing stars in your vision. 

   “Joel, I’m gonna… gonna,” you whine as you feel your orgasm start to break apart. 

   “Go on. Come for me. Be a good girl now and obey,” he growls as he pulls you back into his mouth while his fingers press up into the spongy walls as you feel yourself coming hard for him. 

   You clench up around his fingers and feel slick start to rain down his fingers onto your thighs as you throw your head back and scream his name as your moans echo through the long, dim lit corridor. Your body feels like white noise washing through it as your toes curl and your fingers slide through his tousled curls. 

   He groans as your fingers dig into his scalp while he licks up every inch of spilt slick in between your thighs. You feel your high start to come down as you take nice, deep breaths and focus on the buzzing in your ears. 

   Joel sits on his knees and views the mess that he made in between your legs as you splay across the floor with your legs still wide open for him. He must enjoy the view because he can’t keep his hungry eyes off you. 

   “Such a good girl, you know that? Now, gonna let me take ya all the way? Gonna let me fuck ya now, sweetheart?” he smirks as he starts unbuttoning his green flannel shirt, undoing the buttons quickly as he slides it off his thick arms and throws it in a heap next to the vine covered wall. His rock hard abs sit glistening in the night light while a happy trail of dark, coarse hair sits just above the waist of his jeans in a v shape. It makes you want to get on your hands and knees and crawl to him as you beg to have just a little taste of him.

   “Yes, please. Fuck me,” you moan as you push your breasts together as your center feels on fire for him. 

   “Oh, I’m gonna fuck ya deep, little lamb,” he smirks as he knits his eyebrows together in concentration. 

   He unbuttons his dark jeans and threads the leather belt through his belt loops while he shoves his jeans and boxers down his legs while he stands and hovers over you with his hard cock hitting the base of his hairy stomach as the tip sits weeping and swollen, just waiting to get inside you. 

   You lick your lips together and stare at the swollen tip as saliva starts to coat your mouth. You can practically taste the salt on your tongue, can almost feel the precum sliding down your throat as you beg him for just one more taste. He looks so delicious, and you want to just eat him right up.

   He smirks down at you as he sees you staring at his thick cock that screams your name. “Want a taste, little lamb?” he smirks as you nod your head mindlessly. 

   “Get over here then and do somethin’ ‘bout it,” he demands as he pulls you up by your hair and plants you on your knees in front of his large body. 

   “Go on then. Let me see how good you can choke on this cock, darlin’.” He flashes his pearly whites at you and wraps his fingers around your hair as you take your hand and start sliding it up and down as you spread the precum all over his thick length. 

   You lick the tip lightly and swirl around slowly as you tease him while your hand works up and down the base of him. “Fuck, there ya go,” he groans as you take him inside your mouth as you taste salty goodness drip down your throat. You take him deeper as you choke on him, feeling the drool coat his cock as you go back and forth on him slowly. 

   He grabs tighter to your hair and starts to fuck up into your mouth as you feel him bottom out at the base of your throat as it constricts around his thick length. You choke and gag around his length as he deep throats you over and over again. Your vision blurs as the tears lick at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t care. You love when he chokes you out, when his cock is deep in your throat as you hear his stifled moans get caught in his throat the more your mouth deep throats him. 

  “Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel growls as his thrusts become rougher and deeper, enough to where you’re gagging on your own drool as it coats your mouth as he slips deeper inside. 

   Before you think you can’t take anymore, he releases his cock from your mouth as a bead of drool connects from his tip to your lower lip as you choke for air with his fingers still firmly wrapped around your hair. 

   “Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises as he releases you and shoves you back to the ground as your back his the cold floor. “Now spread those legs, sweetheart. Gonna fuck ya nice and deep now,” he instructs as he spreads your legs and gets down on his knees.  He throws your legs over his shoulders and lines his cock up with your folds as he slowly slides the tip up and down your folds as your spit on his cock collects with the messy slick in between your legs. 

   “Jus’ relax now, darlin’. Let me help fill this pretty pussy up,” he smiles as he shoves his cock through your folds and fills you up. 

   You gasp at the stretch, he’s so fucking big that you never quite get used to the stretch. There’s a tinge of pain, but mostly you’re so full of him that all you can focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He fucks up into you deeper as he bottoms out inside you over and over again. 

   His body hovers over you as his lips nip against your neck as he slides in and out of you faster faster faster as you start to feel wildlife burn through your whole body. He folds your legs in half like a pancake as he fucks deeper inside you, making your walls squeeze his large length tight as you get close to your second orgasm. 

   You study his appearance, focusing on his knit eyebrows that are sewn together in concentration as he loses himself in you entirely. Sweat sticks to his forehead as his curls stick together in the glistening sweat. His broad back is flexing and tightening around you as your nails claw his tan skin, making him moan into the shell of your ear as he licks against the edge of your ear with thick pants leaving his mouth. 

   You kiss along the edge of his jaw, nipping at his scruff as you moan his name eagerly into the base of his ear as he speeds up his thrusts, bottoming out again and again until you can’t take it anymore. 

   “Joel, I’m gonna… fuck, I’m gonna come,” you pant out as he presses his forehead against yours. 

   “Come for me, pretty girl. Let me feel ya,” he commands as he thrusts up inside once twice three more times until you’re squeezing his cock with your walls and pouring yourself all over him. You moan his name and scratch your nails down his back as he moans back in satisfaction. 

   “Oh, that’s a good girl,” he praises as he continues rutting up inside you until he’s choking for air with his own tongue. 

   “Christ, I’m gonna come. Fuck, I’m gonna…” He doesn’t take long till he’s shooting thick ropes of come inside your walls as you feel warmth bubbling all inside you. He takes a minute to let it all out, releasing all his spend inside you as you breathe in his whiskey coated scent. 

   “Fucking hell, sweetheart. Can’t get enough of that sweet pussy,” he groans as he pulls his cock out of you and lets his spend slide down your milky thighs. 

   He collapses onto his back and pulls you into his side as you wrap a leg around his waist and inch your head up to the crook of his neck as your arm wraps around his broad chest. 

   “Some game, huh?” you pant as your exhausted body splays over the entirety of him. 

   “Some game,” he agrees as he rakes his fingers through your messy hair and kisses the top of your forehead as you relax all your weight into him. 

   “Think there’s ever gonna be a day where you won’t catch me?” you ask curiously as he smiles down and shakes his head at you. 

   “No, sweetheart. I’m always gonna catch you. Even if I have to run a couple miles to get to you. I’ll always catch you, my pretty girl.”

   You smile as he pulls you tight against his body, and you spend the rest of the night just lying on the floor in the abandoned mansion where this all started in the first place. A twisted game that ended in two lovers running back to each other again and again. 

   Maybe some games aren’t meant to be played, but this one was specifically made for you and Joel. The cat and the mouse who started off running away from each other, but it ended with both of you falling apart together. 

Tagging some mutuals who might want to read🩷 @milla-frenchy @vividispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @jasminedragoon @morallyinept @mountainsandmayhem @dugiioh @pedrostories @syd-djarin @laurrrra @joelmillersblog @joelmillerisapunk @amyispxnk @msjarvis @lotusbxtch @untamedheart81 @littlemisspascal

[tatertotsafterdark]

Teratophillia Fic - Ghost/Female Reader

18+, NSFW. Minors please DNI.

Contains: Getting freaky with a ghost, male ghost/female reader in terms of anatomy, P in V, no real aftercare, written while I was half asleep and not beta read or editted (AKA don't complain about the quality please)

The hot shower water drenches your skin. The perfect way to distract yourself from working a double was to scorch yourself. It worked, too - you can’t feel the soreness when you’re practically burning your skin off. You wrap your body in a towel that’s just big enough to meet in the front, and step out of the bathroom after giving your head a lazy shake to get rid of some of the water. If it works for dogs after getting out of the bath, it must be good enough for you. 

Slinking into your bedroom, you catch a slight indent on the comforter you left bunched up at the foot. Your friendly ghost. He was certainly no Casper by any means, but at least he was nice enough to not throw your favorite mugs around. You decide to pay him no mind since you can’t technically see him. 

Your towel hits the floor as you walk over to your closet, deciding on a tank top that would at least cover your nipples and a pair of old sweatpants. You toss them on the bed, gazing at the imprints on your blanket. He’d shifted. There was a new set of imprints, indicating he’d sat with his legs out and somewhat spread while looking at you picking out your night clothes. You roll your eyes, declaring that he was a pervert. You receive no obvious response, but you notice from dips in your mattress that your ghost friend had lifted himself up. 

Perhaps you’d offended him so bad that he decided to leave - though you weren’t sure he could leave. Making a few assumptions, you bend over to work your way into the sweatpants. That’s when you feel your cunt stretch. A little gasp escapes you, and you lean up against your bed for a little more support. 

You weren’t necessarily surprised. You always felt someone watching you when you used your vibrator, but you never felt any particular way about that. Your otherworldly friend was proving to truly be a pervert, and you take a little bit of pride in your assumption being affirmed as he begins to thrust into you. You aren’t particularly sure what to do - having sex with a physical being is much different when compared to sex with a supernatural being. You reach down to play with your clit, rubbing circles lazily as you allow your guest to slowly thrust in and out of you. 

That doesn’t last for long. You feel him grab your wrist, in a somewhat rough manner, and move your hand to the bed. You feel a cool sensation on your clit, paired with some friction. The contrast in temperature makes you moan, your back slightly arching as you allow your mind to slip away. The ghost, who seemed to be in no rush before, increases the pace of his thrusts, as well as how hard he’s thrusting into you. 

This was much more on par with your style. You moan and whimper as he continues to fuck you, surprised that he’s able to hit all the right spots. You’re a bit less surprised when you remember that he’d watched you fuck yourself silly, for an undescript amount of times. Still, having something other than plastic inside of you was something you weren’t going to take for granted. 

Your visitor must’ve taken notes during your self-pleasure sessions - he manages to hit all the right spots, inside and out - he rubs your clit at just the right pace, uses one of his hands to pinch your nipples, and slams into you just perfectly. 

Just before your orgasm, you begin to doubt yourself - are you really going to let a ghost make you cum? You answer your own question through actions rather than words as your invisible lover bucks his hips, making you unravel. You nearly scream as you finish, clasping a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. You wouldn’t want to be disruptive to your neighbors, after all. 

Within seconds of you finishing, you feel an icy sensation pressed against your pussy, cleaning you up. Within a minute, the sensation leaves. The room warms up by a few degrees and you know you’re alone. The tired, heavy feeling hits you again and you don’t even bother with pajamas as you crawl into your bed. As you wrap yourself up in a blanket, one satisfied sigh leaves your lips. A small smile is plastered to your face as you drift off to sleep, satisfied by a lover that you couldn’t even see.

[namis-gf]

Hii can I get Robin x Reader, where Robin wakes up from a nightmare and reader comforts her? I'd imagine it's set after Enies Lobby

ANON ILY THIS IS SUCH A GOOD REQUEST!!! i was kicking my feet and giggling while writing cause robin is best girl ever and hurt/comfort is my jam

summary: fem!reader and robin sharing a bed for the first time after everything that went down in water 7/enies lobby. for context, reader worked for sir crocodile in alabasta and robin took her along when she boarded the merry (but she was unaware of robin working with the government)

word count: 812 words / 0.8k

cw: none!

there are three beds now, in the girls' cabin on the sunny. you aren't sure if you're relieved or disappointed. the shipwright luffy picked - franky is his name, you think - had done a headcount of every member of the crew before getting to work.

the gulf between each bed feels even larger at night. for the first few nights back at sea, you can hear soft, heart-wrenching noises from across the room. your heart sinks into your stomach from the guilt, making you almost nauseous, but you can't work up the courage to get up and check on her.

robin had lied to you.

yes, you know she'd done it for the greater good. yes, you know she didn't mean any harm by keeping you in the dark. but nico robin has been by your side for as long as you can remember, on the sea and in the scorching sands of alabasta. she was there in your worst and weakest moments, and you cherish her. part of you wishfully thought that she too, felt as though she could confide in you just as equally.

she's crying again tonight. robin has always had issues with sleep, though she used to be much more cryptic and closed off about the origin of the problem. sometimes, back in your homeland, she would crawl into your bed after night-watch. never touching you directly, but her presence was warm and comforting.

you get to your feet and slip past a sleeping nami, heading toward the bed farthest from the door and shrouded in darkness. by the time you attempt to make an awkward approach, she is already awake and silently watching.

"i missed you," you whisper quietly, extending the olive branch.

before you can try and come up with something else to say, two hands brusquely push against your back. the motion sends you falling forwards, a familiar laugh and the scent of flowers awaiting. she pulls you close, your face red red red from embarrassment.

"it was about time you came to check on me," robin hums, an errant hand summoned by the devil fruit's magic combing through your hair. "one would almost think you were angry."

"i'm not angry," you grumble. "i was worried. for a smartypants, you've been making real stupid decisions of late. that new captain must be a bad influence."

"it wasn't stupid," she replies, sounding lost in thought. "i did what i had to do. if it came down to it, i was ready to go."

"that's the fucking problem! you convinced yourself you were ready, and-"

"i wanted to live, yes."

"well thank god," you huff indignantly, rolling over so you can face her properly. "i would've been pissed if you dragged me all this way just to go and die like a loser."

she chuckles again, the sound music to your ears. "what was it, mr. 0 used to say all the time? right, yes. we don't lose."

"and die winners?" you finish the familiar saying, "he was always so full of shit. the hell does that even mean? If you're dead, you lose. game over."

robin's breath seems to be evening out, and the throes of sleep are working to snare you too. but you came here for a reason, and you won't just let her ignore the problem any longer. "what were you dreaming about?"

"oh, i don't know," she says, flippant. if you could make out her face in the dark, you're sure she'd be smiling at your imminent frustration. "i never really remember my dreams."

“ever?" you echo disbelievingly, "that's nuts. just yesterday i woke up from an awful nightmare about the captain trying to boil my hair like spaghetti."

"sounds yummy," she presses close to you, now, and her two real arms circle around your shoulders. "but i'm afraid my dreams are top secret, frontier agent miss thursday."

"don't pull that garbage rank on me! you know i'm worth more than... eleventh," you say the last word with enough distaste that robin starts giggling again.

"no offence," robin says, in the voice that means she's about to be totally mean. "but i think your former rank had more to do with uh- how do i put it- your tendency to dispose of your partners."

“it's not my fault he was a dummy and couldn't defend himself," you argue back, mostly for the fun of it. "i really think they underestimated my grand potential."

"well that's why i took you with me, of course," she soothes, and you laugh a little yourself at the insincerity. "i'm serious though, i sleep better with you around. so you are hereby forbidden to leave."

"aye," you snort, raising a wobbly arm in mock salute. nico robin may be a total mystery, but you were raised persistent. and persist you fucking will, until she lets you into her heart.

[onlyvrse]

the real thing

“figured i'd do some charity work, you know, let you fuck the real thing before training ends?”

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x female!pilot reader

summary: rooster can’t help himself in the shower rooms.

genre: smut, fluff if you squint

warnings: masturbation, unprotected sex, fingering, oral m!receiving, dirty talk, praise, semi public sex, idk jackshit abt the navy so if anything’s inaccurate sorry!

a/n: the rooster smut saga continues.. c/s = callsign. both reader n rooster are pervy lmao, very lightly proof read.

word count: 4.1k

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rooster knew he had it bad for you. really fucking bad. but somehow it just keeps getting worse every little flirty interaction the two of you have, every time you'd call him by his name instead of his callsign- or any time you called him “roos” instead of rooster. the subtle lingering touches on his shoulder, when you’d bump into him on the way to the bathroom at night, smiling sleepily with tired doe eyes. any time you’d teasingly joke about how you were able to fly better than he could, everytime you called him lieutenant. every little interaction he had would get his mind racing, so confused whether you reciprocated his feelings or he was just in his own head, most instances however, end with him fucking his fist in the showers after training to the thought of you. he had it real bad. 

it had only been around a month since the two of you rekindled your questionable fling. both of you graduated in the same top gun class a few years back, and you were being called back for an undisclosed mission. he had feelings for you back then, but seeing you almost three years later, you’d grown more into your frame and your facial features were more defined, the resurfacing emotions hit him like a fucking truck. every time you were called to attention, you’d somehow end up next to him, wavering his focus and making him laugh- but quickly change his expression to stoic when he felt the admiral’s eyes on the two of you. so when training started and your mannerisms continued just the same as years ago, it just got worse and worse for him. and to his never ending misfortune, fanboy and payback decided 200 push ups would be the punishment for getting shot down first by maverick. so there he was, in the scorching sun with hondo yelling out consecutive numbers everytime he pushed himself back up. “aw roos,” you coo, fixing your hair after having taken your helmet off. you crouch down next to him, hearing his heavy breathes as he continues to push himself through the exercise. you put a finger under his chin, and he swears he almost chokes at your touch, you force him to look up at you and you smile when you make eye contact, “doesn’t this prove that i’m better in the sky than you, lieutenant? got shot down by mav, poor baby.” he scoffs, flipping you off while you giggle and walk away. unbeknownst to the both of you, the entire squadron was watching from the window, placing bets on when you two were finally just going to admit your feelings for one another.

hangman is the first to speak, “what’s the bet they’ve fucked already?” he smirks, and phoenix shuts him down, “oh come on, c/s and rooster? you’d have to push the two of them in a bedroom before anything even happened.” bob laughs behind them before joining in, “even so, they still wouldn’t do anything.” “hey what’s the bet i can get’er before bradshaw does?” hangman speaks out and the entire room just glared at him. no one even needs to say ‘really?’ their eyes say it all. the group quietens down when you enter, quipping an eyebrow as they all meet your gaze. “what?” you ask, completely oblivious. “don’t you worry about it, gorgeous.” hangman chirps up and you roll your eyes at the cocky blonde aviator before taking a seat. rooster joins the rest of the squad shortly after, sweat still dripping from the tip of his nose. you give him a sympathetic smile when a voice cuts through the air. “training’s over for today, rest up for tomorrow. oh, and don’t forget to shower too. you guys stink.” you hear chuckles arise throughout the room, you make eye contact with phoenix, who sends you a wink and you look back in confusion, blinking profusely as if that would fix anything. what the fuck’s going on? people start filtering out of the room to their respective dorms and you take the opportunity to slip into your room and gather your things to shower.

you’d always waited a good half an hour for everyone to shower, or literally when everyone was going to bed. communal bathrooms were never your thing. you’d rather not have to see all of your colleagues half naked if you didn’t have to, saves from overhearing the boy’s locker room talk as well. you gather up your toiletries and walk towards the your locker, grabbing a fresh towel before beginning to strip.

today was no different for rooster, relieving himself in the showers after training. especially after the stunt you pulled today, it was so so subtle, but it set him ablaze. “got shot down by mav, poor baby.” your devious grin, with a finger under his chin forcing him to look at you. what he’d do for you to call him that unironically. god he had it bad.

you hear faint groaning as you’re untying your hair, completely stopping your movements out of curiosity of the noises. you hear a faint curse and your entire body heats up when you recognise the voice. rooster. you innocently assume he’s stubbed his toe or some dumb shit like that, so you dismiss it, wrapping a towel around your bare body as you make your way closer to the showers. “shit,” you stop in your tracks hearing the soft moan, selfishly biting your lip and walking towards the only occupied stall, a damp shower curtain between you and the man you’d been pining over for as long as you’d set your eyes on him. except this time, he’s bare- wet, and fucking himself. you wonder if it’s just a random jerk-off or if he’s got someone in particular in mind, so your curiosity gets the best of you and you lean back against the cold tiled wall, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for any sort of noise to come from the pilot.

he pumps his hands up and down his length, at an agonising pace. too caught up in his own head to even hear your faint footsteps walking around right outside. his bottom lip is between his teeth, his arm leaning against the shower wall, head resting against said arm while the warm water runs down his skin. he teases the head of his cock with his thumb, muttering out an expletive at the sensation.

your answer comes shortly after your half-joking thought. “god, y/n.” you freeze. hold the fuck up. huh? sorry? your eyes widen hearing your name, not even realising how tight your grip was on the hem of your towel. bradshaw, was jacking off, to the thought of you? no, that couldn’t be right. but there it was again, a faint grunt of your name. what the fuck is happening right now? you feel yourself growing wetter as you continue to listen in, albeit feeling slightly pervy about the entire confusing fucking situation but the arousal that was bubbling up inside of you put you past the point of caring. and so, for a reason you can’t really put an excuse to just yet, you push the curtain to the side, your eyes meeting his bare back. “whoops, wrong shower.” you quip, and his head snaps in your direction, wide eyed and startled like a deer caught in head lights. “y/n? what the fuck are you doing?” he squeaks out, desperately clutching for anything to cover himself. “what you think i didn't hear you? oh, fuck y/n, just like that-” his hand covers your mouth abruptly and you giggle against his skin, which sets his ablaze. “is this to torment me? are you going to blackmail me so i never live this down?” he rambles, eyes on the floor. “figured i'd do some charity work, you know, let you fuck the real thing before training ends?” you glance down at the hand covering his crotch. “y’know, instead of your right hand.” he hangs his head in embarrassment, “i'm kidding, dumbass. you’re not the only one having those thoughts.” “what?” “holy shit, you’re clueless. i like you, bradshaw. wasn’t it obvious?” you breathe out before closing the shower curtain and draping your towel over the shower wall and standing under the water next to him, completely bare. he cocks his head to the side, visibly and oh-so utterly fucking confused. “huh- what? what the fuck are you doing?” he says, completely exasperated and no clue where to leave his gaze. he curses himself as he feels his dick getting painfully erect again with the sight of you naked in front of him, water dripping down your skin. “what’s it look like i’m doing, rooster?” you quip, placing a hand on his chest, the other skimming over his bare shoulder. “what the fuck is happening?” rooster mumbles out quietly and you giggle, looking up at him. “y’gonna kiss me or what, bradshaw?” you didn’t have to ask him twice.

he crashes his lips onto yours, pushing you against the wall- you moan into his mouth and he swears it sounds like heaven. both of his hands are cradling your face, gentle, contrasting to what was happening with his lips. he bites your bottom lip and you gasp, slightly digging your nails into his shoulder. “y’dunno how long i’ve waited for this.” he mumbles against you, you smile before pressing a quick peck against his lips, “i’ve got somewhat of an idea.” you kiss him again, hungrily, and you whine when you feel one of his hands kneading the flesh of your ass, the other hand braces up against the shower wall. you both pull away, breathless, and you take a second to admire how pretty he looks like this. lips slightly reddened, face flushed, water dripping from his soft curls, the way his muscles ripple with every little move he makes. “hey, pretty girl, y’done staring?” he smiles at your eyes flickering all over his body, placing his pointer finger under your chin to make you look at him, the same thing you did to him earlier. you hum in response, grabbing his face to bring him in to kiss him again, you slide your tongue into his mouth and and arm snakes around your waist in response to this. you moan when you feel his dick brush by your lower stomach, deciding to lazily slide your hand up and down his length as he kisses you.

he groans into the kiss, relishing in the feeling of your hands on him, and you take the opportunity to situate yourself on your knees in front of him, staring up at him with doe eyes as he caresses the side of your face with his thumb. you teasingly lick at the slit of his dick and his hips thrust forward, looking up at him, when your gaze meets his fucked out state, smirking when he rests his hand on the side of your cheek, mumbling a ‘please’, and, fuck. who are you to deny such a polite request? “easy lieutenant.” you drawl out, before circling your tongue around the tip of his dick, a low moan coming from above you and you swear you get wetter just hearing him come undone. and so, because you can never say no to bradshaw, you take his length into your mouth fully, using your tongue to trace the pronounced veins as you bob your head, maintaining a rhythm as a choked moan leaves bradley. you use your hand to work at what you cant fit, although removing it when you attempt to deepthroat him, you did it occasionally, just to marvel in the sounds he makes. you take a breath, your lips leaving his cock with a lewd pop as you stare up at him, smiling, lips reddened and puffy. he cocks his head to the side, quipping an eyebrow as he smirks. “c’mere.” he whispers, his finger under your chin again, beckoning you to stand.

it’s not long before his lips are on yours again, but this time, you feel a finger running up and down your slick folds, causing you to let out a strangled moan at the sudden sensation, maybe a bit too loud of a moan now that you can hear it reverberating around the tiled walls. a hand wraps around your throat, his other hand still toying with your heat as he looks you in the eye, “as much as i wanna hear those pretty noises, not too loud, doll, okay? don’t want anyone knowing what we’re doing in here, hm?” you nod, shyly, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth as he toys with your bundle of nerves, causing you to flinch when he pinches at your clit, you yelp and smack him- he chuckles, asshole. “sorry, s’too tempting,” you look up at him, trying to glare but smiling when you meet his gaze. at least he’s a cute asshole. he starts drawing delicate patterns against your clit and you moan into another kiss, tongue sliding into his mouth as you tilt your head, feeling the familiar white hot pleasure building into a coil in your stomach. you throw your head back against the wall when you feel a finger enter you, surprised by the sudden intrusion. his lips latch onto your neck, surely leaving bruises in its wake. you just hope your flight suit covers them. “feel good, princess?” he drawls and you nod eagerly, gasping out when you feel another digit inside of you, pumping in and out of your core selfishly, his thumb still lazily working at your clit. he quickens his pace, your senseless babbling noises of pleasure filling his ears like his favourite songs. your thighs are tensing already, god it's embarrassing how long it’s been since you’ve gotten any. he notices this, and of course switches his position to be kneeling in front of you, placing one of your legs over his shoulder as he begins to lap at your cunt- your hand flies to grab a fistful of his hair, a choked moan leaving your lips. he groans into your heat at the tug, sending vibrations throughout your core which only causes you to let out a string of curses. you cry out when you feel his fingers enter you again, thrusting at a relentless pace as he continues to flick his tongue against your clit.

he looks up at you and holy fuck, did he look good.

you could get used to this.

so, so used to this.

“holy fuck, shit-” you moan out, so lost in your own pleasure you don’t even feel the pain when you accidentally throw your head back too hard against the tiled wall. his stupidly gorgeous pornstache is adding a whole new sensation to this that you’ve never felt, and you grind against his mouth selfishly, the knot in your stomach tightening, “mm-fuck roos- gonna,” you cant even finish your sentence, a moan leaving you again when he sucks harshly at your clit and it’s all you need to topple over the edge. your entire body spasms, pleasure running all throughout your body as he never ceases his movements, his free hand is on your waist, drawing soft circles with his thumb as a way to signify he’s got you, helping you ride out your orgasm with his head between your thighs. but now he’s almost eye level with you, quick to stand up after finishing you off. and of course, him being quite a few inches taller causes you to tilt your head up to look at him, but you grab his face and kiss him hungrily, tasting yourself on his lips.

“what were you thinking of before i interrupted you, roos?”

he breaks away, forehead resting against yours, his hand tracing delicate circles along the small of your back. “what’dya mean?” he mumbles out, “when you were fucking yourself, what were you thinking of?” you drawl out, confused at where the sudden brashness came from but oh well, no take backs. “y’wanna know?” he questions and you nod slowly, biting your lip in anticipation.

his hands are on your hips, backing up so his back hits the wall instead before he spins you around, a hand guiding your back to bend over. you brace your hands against the wall instinctively and gasp when you feel his cock hit your ass. “sure you want it, princess?” he asks, and you’re too desperate to make a sarcastic remark. “just fuck me bradshaw, please.” you don’t have to turn around to know he’s grinning, “yes ma’am.” he lines himself up, teasingly running his length up and down- brushing against your already sensitive clit, which causes you to shiver. “bite your hand.” he says, and you look back, confused. “what? why the fuck would i-” he rolls his eyes before covering your mouth with his hand, before bottoming out inside you completely. there’s a muffled scream of “oh, fuck” that can still be heard despite his last-minute countermeasures, he’s just happy he dampened it, even if it was only a little bit.

“that’s why, darlin’.”

he says, giving you a second to breathe and adjust. you felt and saw it before, but having it inside you was a completely different experience, he was practically stuffing you full. and you didn’t mind one bit. you look back at him, and he winks at you. you can’t help but scoff that he’s so goofy even in moments like this. “permission to go?” you squint your eyes at him. “really?” he nods, amused grin on his face. now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “permission granted.” you barely have a second to process before his hips snap back against your ass, your mouth ajar as he ruts into you at a relentless pace. you could tell by the way he was just thrusting into you, this’d been building up over so many years. all the times you’ve unknowingly gotten him hard by addressing him by his last name with a desiring lilt in your voice, all the lingering touches after training. “y’dunno how long i’ve waited for this.” well. you could definitely feel it. your hands are flush against the wall, but your legs feel like jelly- your brain is so overwhelmed by the immense pleasure you’re feeling. “so pretty like this, c/s.” you hear him mutter, a hand placed on the small of your back while the other holds a steady grasp on your hip. he notices your absence of a response, constant moans leaving your lips every time he hits the spongey spot inside of you. “too cockdrunk to speak? who knew you’d be so needy for me?” you whine out again at the accurate accusation. “just for you,” you manage to get out, despite him never ceasing his movements. “you’re all snarky and sarcastic out there but you’re making all this noise just for me? if i’d known this’d shut you up i’d have done it ages ago, princess.” you’re about to let yourself be a little louder in response to this, but his hips come to a disappointing halt. 

you look back at him and he places a finger over his mouth to signify you to be quiet. once he’s certain he’s heard footsteps he wraps an arm around your waist and hoists you up against the wall, you look down amazed how he’s holding you with one arm. he notices this, and smirks. “rooster? that you?” he makes eye contact with you when hearing the familiar voice of payback, slightly grinning. “yeah s’me, what’s up?” he responds, the sound echoing slightly. your eyes are wide when he lines himself up and starts thrusting into you again, a slow pace but he goes hard. this causes you to bite down on his shoulder to stop yourself from making any noise, making him wince a little as he continues his agonising teasing. “yeah once you’re done jacking off we’re going to the hard deck.” “yeah, yeah, i'll be there, piss off- wait why’re you in here anyway man?” rooster inquires, hips somewhat speeding up, your nails digging into his back, so sure to leave crescent moon marks the next day. “left my keys, i’ll see you there man.” he mutters a curt reply before facing your direction again, smirking when your head is still buried in the crook of his neck, arms draped around his neck lazily. he waits a few seconds, going at an antagonising pace to assure the unexpected visitor has left the showers before holding your legs up and rutting into you at the same relentless pace as before.

you cry out into his shoulder, tears prickling at your eyes. “you’re doing so well baby, taking me so well.” he comments, marvelling at the way your cunt sucks his length in everytime. you let your head rest against the wall, grabbing his face for him to look at you. he smiles softly at your fucked out expression, kissing at the tear that’d made its way down your cheek. “you’re so pretty, doll. you okay?” he asks, watching as you nod, your eyes dazed and glossy. “i’can take it.” you mumble out and he smiles softly. how is this man rearranging your guts and being so sweet at the same time? while you’re having these thoughts, he’s amused at the duality of you. how snarky and witty you are during training and in the sky, and the whimpering mess that was coming undone infront of him now. how cute. you both thought.

a hand attaches to your clit again and you bury your face further into his skin to muffle the choked moan, sensitive and eagerly awaiting your release. his hips still pumping into you relentlessly. you cry out in pleasure, feeling the knot in your stomach about to release after the constant abuse to the spongey spot inside of you. “roos, g’nna- fuck-” you babble out into his shoulder, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head. “i got you princess.” you cum, hard, accompanied by a string of curses that leave your kiss-bruised lips. you’re practically limp against him now, relishing in the feeling of him filling you to the brim- his hips faltering slightly, signalling he’s not far off himself. “fuck, can i finish in you?” he grunts out, a loose strand of hair hangs in front of his eye. you nod taking your lip between your teeth again, “give me all of it, roos. please.” he moans lowly hearing you say that, throwing his head back as he lets himself go inside of you, an almost-forgotten warmth settling at your centre. “holy shit,” he whispers out, his forehead settling against yours. you kiss him tenderly. 

“we should do that again some time.” 

“really? you think so?” you giggle back, toying with the short strands of hair by the back of his neck. “please don’t tell me that's a one time thing- cause i actually really like you, i have since we first met and it’d suck balls if-” you cut him off with a kiss, feeling him smile against your lips.

“you’re an idiot, bradshaw. did you not remember me saying i was into you before you fucked me in a shower stall?”

he cocks his head to the side, a sheepish grin playing on his lips.

“definitely,” he starts, scratching the back of his neck. “yeah, no i totally remember that.” you both laugh as he sets your feet back onto the ground, an arm wrapping around your waist when your legs almost give out on you. “don't let that get to your ego, bradshaw.” he wipes his mouth with his hand to cover his smile, nodding his head in amusement. “let’s get you cleaned up.”

he’s gentle with you, lathering soap over your body and showering you with praise as he also washes your hair for you. you melt into his touch, the water changing into a less than comfortable temperature. “roos,” you mumble out, he looks at you with a questioning look. “water’s gone cold.” he runs his hand under it, confirming your statement before wrapping you in your long forgotten towel that was draped over the tiled wall. he places a kiss on your temple as he places his own discarded towel around his waist.

“I felt like a perv doing that.” “you felt like a perv? I was outside listening for like a solid minute.” he grins, “you were?” you regret your confession immediately. “oh, no wait fuck off i wasn’t, i wasn't! i take it back.” he bellows out in laughter before placing a hand on the small of your back. “you can’t take that back after my dick was in you, c/s.” you smack his chest, hard.

“shut up you fuck! what if someone heard that?”

“you’re worried about someone hearing that bit? of all things? really?”

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i’m so sorry this took so long to get out ;-;

likes, reblogs and comments appreciated! tag anyone who you’d think would enjoy this :)

tag list: @mandoowhorian @luckyladycreator2

[skazoo]

slow and blue and endless.

↳ kim taehyung x f!reader

someone stared at you through the window. you had always felt safe in your own home, shutting out the scary, real world. but a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily.

length. 1.7k

genre. angst, yandere

warnings/tags. language, obsessive behavior, implied stalking, yandere themes, mind break, emotional manipulation, love bombing(?), mention of mental illnesses, physical violence, kinda gruesome allusion to murder, dark themes overall, minors advised to dni.

networks. none for this.

notes. [THIS IS A REPOST BC TUMBLR TAGS WON'T WORK AND I ALMOST CRIED<;3]

GAH these photos are so 80s serial killer making a creepy videotape that's gonna get edited in a true crime documentary coded...... i know you're seeing my vision, i KNOW it.... anywayyyyyy this is kinda not proofread, and i wrote it while i was supposed to be studying for my exams a while back!! because when am i inspired if not when i shouldn't be?? i hope you like it and i swear something is almost ready for me to publish please wait a little longer (for my engenes and atiny besties)

⚠️ it goes without saying that i in no way condone any obsessive/stalking/creepy/violent behavior and despite this being "x reader" i'm not in any way romanticizing anything i'm writing. also this, as you all know, is fiction and names are merely a narrating mean. ⚠️

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

in a way you’ve always loved him. he knows. you don’t even have to say it out loud for him to be happy. 

but sometimes it feels like you take him for granted. sometimes you make him really, really angry and that, he can’t let pass. and it's not for his sake but for yours. always everything for you. he has to make you understand that there are things you can’t do if you want to stay safe from the outside world. safe from him, sometimes.

running away is one of those ugly, wretched things you know well he hates, and he slams you against the wall and drags you back through the front door into the house by your hair, he bashes your head on the kitchen counter, near the fire of the stove he’s been preparing lunch with to make you understand a concept you're apparently too dumb to grasp.

“what the fuck did i tell you about running, uh?” seething with undiluted rage .

“i just wanted to go outside, tae. i swear!”

“i said what the fuck did i tell you about running!? do you understand how much it would hurt me to see you go?!” his voice booms inside the walls of your head, an endless echo that makes bitter tears gather at the back of your eyes and spill over.

your face is burning. tongues of fire lick at your cheeks, a scorching caress that reminds you of taehyung's. his palm always leaves a brand behind, reminding him and yourself that he’s there. 

your hands scramble for his in a miserable attempt to lessen his hold. “i’m sorry, tae! so sorry, please! please!”

his closed fist in your hair pushes your head closer to the heat. “i’ll fucking kill you if i have to, you know that right–” it’s not a question, merely a promise, but you nod anyway, frantically, desperately– “they’ll never stop finding your body, baby. do you understand?” he screams and shakes you with his hands tight in your hair when you only cry in response.

“i said,” leaning in, mouth brushing over your ear. chills go down your back as his voice turns sickeningly mellow as if he’s whispering sweet nothings instead of threats, “do you understand?”

“yes! yes! god, yes i understand! tae, i’m so sorry! it’s all my fault! it’s all my fault!”

your mindless babbles seem to humor him and he moves your head at a safer distance. “and why is that?”

“ ‘twas my fault! i put myself in danger if i run. tae, please! i’m so sorry!” 

and you cry and cry and cry until you have nothing to give. until there’s only emptiness in your head that’s resting on his shoulder. until his shushes really feel reassuring. until he sits you down at the table to eat the lunch he prepared, the one that was so close to killing you. you nibble on it, too weak to really even taste the flavors.

he breaks the empty silence between you with a question. you startle at the sound of his voice and force your heavy eyes to focus on him.

“aren't you curious? about why i chose you?”

“no.”

he scrunches his eyebrows and regards you with a slightly displeased look that has you shrinking back on your chair. 

“but i want to tell you…” he whines.

you don’t say anything about his antics. despite him behaving like a child you’re terrified of what his reaction would be if you actually treated him like one, so you press your lips together and wait. 

“i like people that like me.” and it’s so simple how he says it. obvious, even.

“but why do you think i like you?” quietly, meekly.

he seems to like the question, his boxy smile one full of teeth that in other circumstances you would have found endearing. now it only makes him look like a predator, an animal, drool dribbling down his fangs, jaw ready to snap close around your neck if —and ultimately, when— you say or do the wrong thing. 

“oh, i was so happy, Y/N,” he coos, your name curling in his mouth with ease, as if you’re always been around each other, as if it belongs there, “that when i chose you, you came with me.”

your mouth gapes open at the absurdity of it all. you wonder if he really thinks that you wanted all of this, that you wanted to be taken from your home. you’d ask your old psychology professor if you’d be correct to label him as a narcissist of sorts. a man with too much power, and free time, and loneliness to exhaust all on himself that he had to go around looking for a scapegoat for his secret misery.  

“i didn’t– i didn’t come to you, taehyung. i didn’t have a choice.”

“so you were almost forced to come?”

“no,” it comes out more as a question than an answer and you lower your head in search of a way to rationalize the conversation at hand, “i was completely forced–”

“that’s what you tell yourself,” he retorts before you can even finish your sentence.

“it’s what i know is true,” you spit somewhat offended by his insinuation.  

his smile is a sick thing when you raise your head from the food on your plate —cold and uninviting. the smell alone makes you want to throw up. 

“are you sure?”

your anger leaves space for an unnerving sense of confusion. “what does that– what?”

your frown deepens as you watch him play around with his lunch. you follow his hands pushing back his glasses on his nose. the sick look of complacency that dances on his face seems to speak words that make the hairs at the back of your neck raise in dreadful anticipation. i know something about you that you don’t, his eyes say, and that alone is enough to make you want to scream.

he knows nothing!, you’d be shouting to the usually calm neighborhood, i haven’t told him anything about myself. he can’t know anything! he knows nothing! he knows nothing! you’d holler to the kids walking home from school hand in hand with their mothers who’d be looking at you with contempt, unaware of who lives among them. a wolf in sheep's clothing that could easily make you look like a psychopath. 

you’d do it, you swear to yourself that you’d do it all if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve got the inkling fear that you’ve truly gone mad. the doubt that crawls on your back and makes its way in your ears, slithering then, with much glee into your delusional brain.

how long have you been in this house? his house or the one you bought together once you finished college? did you meet him on a slow rainy day outside a coffee shop or did you catch him staring at you from the window before he broke in and took you from your bed, leaving behind torn sheets and a broken frame with a picture of your friends? does your mind deceive you? are you sane? is he?

it feels like you've had this exact same conversation with him an infinite number of times, always stuck in a loop of unease and sadness that you really can’t explain. loving looks sent your way melt into scary grimaces sometimes and all you can feel is guilt because that’s tae. your tae. the man you chose, the man that chose you.

you realize your vacant eyes are crying when you feel a thumb swipe your cheek with a gentleness that makes your stomach churn in disgust and again a voice tells you that there’s something wrong with you.

“baby, are you alright?”

the way you look at him does nothing to the sick warmth brewing in his stomach. your shiny little doe eyes peeking up at him from under wet lashes, asking for forgiveness that taehyung would never deny you. nose red from the frustration of being lost in your own mind and mouth parted as if to ask him to show you the way, the truth that you seem to have lost.

he stands up and rounds the table to you for you to bury your head in his chest. sobs shake your tired form.

“shh, it’s okay, baby. i swear everything it’s okay. it happens to forget.”

“i’m sorry, tae,” you plead through broken breaths. “i’m so sorry, please.”

he shushes you. lips plant themselves in the crown of your head, a hand rubs at your back soothingly.  

later, in the late evening, you lie in your bed. a bed. the sheets smell of him and the air you breathe does not feel like the one you're used to, but you’re calm. you think you are. maybe.

soft snores sound from behind you and you attempt to turn your head to make sure it’s him. 

“tae?” you let out a whisper. not one that expects itself to be heard.

“yeah?” voice hoarse from sleep.

“nothing.”

he buries his nose in the hair at the nape of your neck, inhaling the shampoo he bought for you. “what?”

“just wanted to make sure you were still here.”

“i’m always here, baby.”

you hum.

minutes pass slowly, like molasses, as if the hand of the seconds inside the alarm on your nightstand is fighting an invisible force, a wall of rubber that threatens to bounce time back. you think he’s fallen back asleep. breath slowing, chest heaving, lulling you to slumber.

you close your eyes. “tae?”

he doesn’t answer. a car alarm sounds from outside the closed curtains, its prolonged blaring bringing a certain agitation in your otherwise silent night. a breath of summer wind leaves bumps on your skin in its wake. you sigh and his arms tighten around your torso. an unconscious gesture, soft, loving.

“i dream of you–” you let your words sink into the air, into the boiling water you carry around in your lungs that doesn’t let you breathe properly, and you shiver again but not from the chill bite of the wind “–and it’s slow, and blue, and endless.”

behind you, taehyung’s mouth stretches into a smile.

in a way, you’ve always loved him. he’s certain of it now as he was before. and even if you didn’t, he will always make sure to make it a reality, one way or the other. wether you want it or not.

taglist: @taevestr @fa1ryjoons @vcutvante

[wroteclassicaly]

ur piss kink thoughts. oh my god /pos

— @inkluvs (ivy)

Oh my god… Well, this took on a mind of its own… I’ll have to release my other full length fic w/ this kink someday! I hope you enjoy it!? Tysm for the ask! And these are just some headcanons of what I think. Idk if Steve would be as into it as Eddie, but I think he’d be down for it in the long run, especially if his partner is! And there’s something so much more wild about this kink with Stevie boy!

I’m so going to hell… 🙊

~*~

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal fingering, references to masturbation, oral & vaginal sex, piss kink/watersports, and overall NSFW content!

The first time that it happened, it was an accident. Steve was fucking into you at a relentless pace with his fingers, curling into that spot. Having been unable to wait to have you, and you thinking you’d be able to get home and pee, then shower, before seeing him later in the evening — to say you had been shocked when he showed up to give you a ride instead of your coworker, that was an understatement. You couldn’t deny him, as you wanted him just as bad. However, you were clenching and holding vice onto muscles in your pelvic floor and thighs, berating yourself for not going before you left the building. And there in an abandoned parking lot, with your boyfriend’s insanely thick fingers inside of you — you were about to have a big problem.

“Steve…”

“Mhm, honey. So wet and warm for me. Waited all day for you, for this. Never can believe it’s real —“

“Steve, stop,” you’d warned him.

That throaty laugh occurred, but he then looked at you in concern. Your eyes were still glazed over, your legs wide open. But something was off. He makes the mistake of moving one finger against your sopping walls, meaning to pull his digits out, and it was happening.

“Please, I —“ Is all you got out before the first spray of yellow liquid is coating his hand and the leather of the seat below, even splashing onto your panties and jeans around your ankles, pooling onto the floor board.

With the fabric of your clothing in the way, you couldn’t close your legs fast enough, so you attempted to bear down and hold the rest, eyes glistening with tears, throat damp with embarrassment. It’s silent, the lights glittering from the street lamps and reflecting the crystal of his car’s windshield. And… part of the mess you had made. You didn’t waste a second, trying to reach for your clothing in hasty retreat.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I tried to stop it. I’m fucking disgusting, I know. Just take me home now, or I’ll walk —“

“Honey. Can you calm down for me for a minute? A second, maybe?” The raspy break in his voice had you looking through your panicked babble, directly at him.

You weren’t prepared to see him with a palm over his swollen denim bulge. He was hard before, yeah, but seeing you let go like that, it was so… raw. He was aching tremendously against his zipper, finger hovering above his belt buckle. Wait, was he… He was into this?

“You’re not mad?” You swallowed harshly, watching in slow motion as his hand moved to cup your damp cunt, not oblivious to the mixture of piss and cream that had dripped out of you.

He shakes those beautiful tresses. “You didn’t finish, did you?”

“I didn’t come, no, but that’s okay —“

“Baby. S’ not what I mean.” His jugular bobbled along a harsh intake of air, then he questioned you. “You still have to pee, right?”

“Well… Yeah, but I can hold the rest —“ The burning inside your body was scorching you. Unprepared is a comedic term for your reaction to his next wonder, your jaw nearly unhinging with a snap.

“Finish for me. Can you do that? While I touch you some more?”

Your eyes had widened and he almost backed out, but didn’t. He trusted you, both of you mostly in synch on things, especially in the bedroom. You were into this too, if any indication by your expelled pant and thighs trapping his wrist.

“But your car —“

“Can be cleaned, baby.”

And that was how it started, more or less. His hand fisting his fat cock as he fingered you to orgasm, all the while you pissed down his wrist and soaked the car his daddy bought for him when he was King Steve, and you were in different circles.

~*~

- King Steve would’ve been into it too, let’s be honest. Marking you, claiming you, humiliating you. He’d have you begging him to piss on or in you — your cunt, ass, and mouth. He owns you.

- When Steve became softer, he was so much more open about liking it, about how it turns both of you on.

- He would piss on you in public settings, have you pee on him, followed by orgasms that left you both breathless after.

- If you acted like a brat, you knew the special punishment he was concocting, what it would contain.

- He loves to make you hold it and watch how he can test your limits before your burst. Your cute shame makes his balls drawl up.

- Isn’t afraid to lick you clean. If he’s feeling bold, if you’re both comfortable — he’ll let it come directly from the source. (This man bit into the flesh and blood of an underworld creature, so who cares about a little piss from the partner he simps over?)

- Asked you to soak his parents staircase and bed before.

- Asks if he can watch you go.

- Gets this look in his eyes when he wants it. “Brought some stuff.” And it’s a towel and wet wipes. That’s the tell-tale sign.

- You peed on his chest and soaked the chest hair and he came untouched one time… Then asked him to piss on your tits.

- Your favorite thing is holding yourself open as he relieves himself on your clit and wet cunt. He uses it to rub you to your climax after.

- Another thing you both favor, is when he pisses inside of you (his personal favorite), as he’s fucking you, and when you go as he fingers you or touches you.

- Likes to come in and pee through your legs while you’re using the restroom. One time, he even had you straddle him as you both went. It was messy, but you tried, and you loved it.

- Jerks himself off beneath the spray of you. You touch yourself as he uses you too.

• I’m sure I have more, but my brain is on nasty overload rn. I’m hiding in shame now 😭

[fandomfluffandfuck]

for your consideration: super soft close sex when bucky gets shivery and cold despite blankets or heaters. he used to be the one wrapping himself around stevie, keeping him from death one long winter day at a time. but now his internal temperature is all messed up from being frozen and unfrozen and electrocuted, sometimes his body just won’t work. but now steve is big and broad and soft and warmer in a way that a heating pad or hot shower doesn’t come close to.

his man pours out heat, some scorching summer nights bucky can’t even touch him without starting to sweat. and him and steve learn to use that to their advantage, starting slow with steve rubbing his giant hands up and down bucky’s arms and keeping him hugged up to his chest for hours at a time. it moves in to kissing, then making out, then one night when steve can feel bucky getting hard against his thigh he says ‘you know, buck, i bet i’m even hotter inside.’ and never in his life has bucky stripped him or steve down faster (save for the socks because he is still cold, dammit).

steve preps quick, a nice side effect of the serum that makes tearing or real painful discomfort almost impossible if there’s lube and a couple fingers involved. and by the time he’s ready, bucky’s started shivering again and that just won’t do. steve pulls bucky down onto him and guides his dripping cock inside and feels it in his toes when bucky lets out a deep, happy moan.

steve quickly pulls the blankets up around them and just holds bucky against him while he ruts into him with sharp little movements of his hips. bucky’s face is buried in steve’s neck and he’s clutching onto his sides and back as hard as he can, just letting steve’s warmth take over his body. it takes them both a long time to cum, but nothing could matter less. bucky is warm and safe and feeling nothing but pleasure and steve, steve, steve.

(i wanted this to be mostly sweet but i also think it would be really really funny if bucky developed a pavlovian response to being cold and just got a boner whenever he started shivering lmao)

THIS. IS. SO. FUCKING. SWEET.

Like, it's sad too because I don't want Bucky or Steve to be sad or cold or fucked up from being cryogenically frozen or any of that, but the way they 🤌🏻care🤌🏻 for each other. They provide. They more than make do, they make the most of everything. It's so sweet.

Thank you for these thoughts. They're wonderful (and also very amusing, yeah, haha. They'd much rather Bucky have a sexy pavlovian response to the cold than a traumatized, triggered response anyhow)!

[kimakento]

fool in love

synopsis: as you tried your hardest to get over byun euijoo and his bad habit of drinking, you realised that he will never get over you. ⌙ 0.8k

pairing(s): ex!byun euijoo x fem!reader

genre(s): angst

warning(s): swearing, drinking problems/alcoholism, infidelity, mentions of cheating.

tags: ex!euijoo, previous established relationship, persistent euijoo, non idol!au

author’s note: i wrote this so quick wtf, i hope ej lunès enjoyyy!! disclaimer: this is not an in real life depiction of euijoo.

part two of intoxicated

since your meet-up with jo, you’d been visibly getting better; you had stopped yourself from listening any of euijoo’s voicemails or reading any of his messages. to be honest, this was the best you’d ever been. in a long while.

but still, you tossed and turned at night; still worrisome over the situation. with a big sigh, you turned on the night light. it’s blinding rays caused you to blink uncontrollably. that was until you heard a knock on the door, paired along with a buzz from your phone, notifying you of a message. reaching out to your phone across on the dresser, you saw who sent a message.

it was byun euijoo.

your steps felt heavy as you stripped yourself of the warm embrace of your duvet and left your bed. another knock echoed in your ears as you opened the peephole, noticing euijoo standing there himself.

his appearance was most peculiar, his hair was dishevelled, he seemed as if to be stumbling around and euijoo looked visibly disoriented.

“open up, please.” a murmur came from his pretty lips.

worried, and with trembling hands, you got to unlocking your doors. that was when his head fell on your shoulder. somehow, you managed to pull him in and lock the door. the smell of liquor deepened as he picked his head up and walked to your couch and took a seat.

“take me back, i’ll do anything. i just need you. i….,” euijoo’s eyes were partially bloodshot, as he gripped your couch; his knuckles turning a deep shade of white. “i miss you.”

as you balled your fists, you couldn’t stop the sadness turning into raw anger. tears threatened to fall and your chest tightened. that familiar lump in your throat refused to dissipate as you turned your head away from him, avoiding his hazed gaze.

“get out.” was all you could reply. you weren’t sure if you meant it or if it was just the heat of the moment. maybe it was a way of coping.

you didn’t know.

you raised your voice once again, “i can’t believe you’re drunk right now. byun euijoo, i hate you.”

‘i love you’ you wanted to instead blurt out.

confusion took to his facial expression as he pleaded against it, “you know i never meant it. i really thought she was you.”

euijoo took hesitant steps towards you, reaching out his arm to touch yours. he needed to feel your warmth, you were slipping through his fingers every second he didn’t.

a lone tear ran down your cheek and as you backed away from his touch like a scorching flame that blistered at a single touch. “no, no, no. you don’t get to do that, byun. i’ve had to deal with your drunk ass constantly, i can’t believe you would do something like that. and with my best friend too?”

the emotions seemed to pour all out as you continued.

“you’re never sober when with me, i’m so sick of it. you just don’t get me, we’re so different and it hurts. when i first met y—“ a sob wracked your body and interrupted your speech. “when i first met you, you were kind and friendly and—you know… just the man for me. and now; look at you. i can barely stand to myself.”

his glazed eyes weren’t looking at you, they seemed to be looking through you. it was always like that, though. same thing each time, but just in another situation.

byun euijoo was drunk, again. just like he always was.

“we’re done, euijoo. didn’t you hear me the first time?” you held an accusatorial tone in your voice. “i never want to see you ever again.”

this time, he spoke clearly. “i’m so fucking sorry, i’m so sorry. this is all my fault.”

as much as you were mad at euijoo, you hated how his voice broke right then. yearning and longing consumed your heart, making it impossible for you to tear your watchful gaze away from the man.

the man you thought he was had disappeared, leaving a worser version in it’s wake.

his gaze met yours, and you interjected.

“i’m glad you finally know it’s all your fault. shit, i can’t do this right now. you’re shit-faced.” you stated again. “not once have we had a genuine conversation without you being drunk.”

with hitched breath, you placed two fingers on your nose bridge.

the silence was killing you inside; you just wanted to scream, to cry, to rage — to do anything. your emotions swirled like a hurricane inside as you felt the pent-up frustration build up. it was overwhelming your mental and physical being.

euijoo’s pleas went unheard but still listened to, “let me prove myself, huh?” his hands found yours, resonating with your warmth. he ran his finger over your knuckles, rubbing them as a way to assure you. “you know i love you so fucking much. everything i do is for you. i can’t live without you.”

yet, his hands were cold. very much unlike the searing love you had for him. you still envisioned the man euijoo could be, not the man he was. hesitantly, with his arms spread; signalling he wanted you in his embrace.

maybe it was that you missed him, or that a part of you still loved him.

because like the complete and utter fool in love you were, you accepted his shallow welcome.

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[strayheartless]

The edge of no return: a Sephgen ficlet

Inspired by this piece of art by @00000133330311

⚠️ warning for: slight blood; canon typical descriptions of war, nothing graphic but you have been warned; illusions to human experimentation but now explored; mentions of a panic attack; hyperventilation.

I think that’s it but let me know if I’ve missed something.

***

Genesis doesn’t admit to being afraid of Sephiroth very often. The knowledge that he almost always is is sickening at the best of times. It feels weak, pathetic. He is Genesis fucking Rhapsodos he is not weak. Even still… outside of his prideful stubbornness there are times when Sephiroth truly does frighten him.

This… is one of those times.

The battlefield in-front of them is cluttered with bodies. Some dead, some alive. All covered in a thick layer of mud, blood and sweat. Soldiers both Wutai and Shinra picking through the dead to make note of the families they will have to inform of their own loss.

Genesis knows better than most that he has no right to mourn the dead. He is their commander. He, in many ways, is their executor. Yet mourn their loss he does. Even after years of distancing himself from his fellow men to ease the blow. It never gets easier.

Above the scorched field, stood on the rising mound of destroyed tanks and ATV’s Sephiroth surveyed the scene, Masimune in hand; blood splattering his face. In the heat of the battle Genesis had lost track of him. It hadn’t mattered at the time; Sephiroth was an immovable force, he would not be struck down. Now however Genesis felt that loosing sight of him had perhaps cost too many their lives.

“He’s been stood up there for at least an hour, “ said a deep voice behind him. He didn’t have to turn to know it was Angeal.

Genesis hummed, slightly too afraid to move.

“You know he won’t come down from the high unless you bring him down Gena.” Angeal moves to brush some dirt from his friends face. A reassurance that falls on deaf ears.

“You assume I wield any kind of power over him at all…” he resorts, but there’s no real bite to his words. Angeal knows as well as Genesis does that Sephiroth has only and will only come back to reality if Genesis is the one to guide him there. It had always been that way. Genesis doesn’t ever want to think about what would happen if he were to use that ability for evil. That power of his could level planets.

Years from now the irony of that thought will haunt him to his dying day. Years from now he will be slapped by the goddesses chosen for how he chose to use his power over the Demon of Wutai in the end.

Right now though, he didn’t feel powerful… he felt afraid.

“You give yourself too little credit.” Angeal places a hand on his shoulder. “He has only ever listened to you,”

“How is the puppy?” He hedges.

Angeal snorts softly. “Kind of you to care,” he’s not letting Genesis get away with it but he is indulging him for at least a second or two.

“I’ve always cared,” Genesis snaps. “I know I don’t engage! I know they all think me rude and self centred, but I care!” Angeal hushed him, placatingly.

“I know Gena, I’m sorry.” He grips the back of Genesis’ neck and some of the tension leaks out of him. “He’s a little traumatised I think. You remember how it was, the shock of capture that comes after your first battle. He’s dealing with the shattered hero illusion, but he’ll be okay,”

“Keep an eye on him,”

“I always do. Now stop stalling,” with a shove Angeal pushes Genesis in the direction of the vehicle mound. He knew he wouldn’t get away with it long.

There was nothing else to concentrate on but Sephiroth. His eerie, deadly, stillness; his piercing gaze as it presided like a hawk over the landscape, looking for a single twitch or spasm in the mound of bodies to descend upon. To snuff out.

It hadn’t always been this bad. Genesis remembered a time when they were fifteen (perhaps Sephiroth had been a shade younger,) when the deadened staring had held great grief in it. When Genesis had more so had to stop the shaking than claw him back from the murderous haze.

Something had changed around nineteen though. He and Angeal had not long made FIRST class when Sephiroth had been ordered into the lab for a week and comeback different somehow.

He still slept by Genesis’ side, still flirted in that awkwardly adorable and very Sephiroth kind of way. He was still Sephiroth, he was still the man Genesis fell in love with. But every now and then there was something, a dimming of sorts in the back of his eyes that turned into a void when he had a weapon in his hands. There had been training room incidents that had left many injured at best.

The only person he had never hurt had been Genesis himself. There was no explanation to it, and if Hojo were asked it was a defect in Sephiroth’s training, but he never got that voided look when he was focused on Genesis. One day, that wouldn’t save him from Sephiroth’s blade. But that day will be his own fault.

“My love,” Genesis called softly, picking his way up sharp blasted out metal. “My love can you look at me?”

There was no reaction from Sephiroth, not to Genesis’ words at least. A movement to the left of him made him twitch and swivel his head to the noise. In any other situation it would have amused Genesis. He could always imagine Sephiroth chittering like a cat watching the birds when he was intent on watching something. Now he looked larger more dangerous. One wrong move and he’d pin Genesis under his paw.

“Sephiroth,” he says closer now. His voice wavered and he cleared his throat. “Look at me,” Genesis took Sephiroth’s face in his hands.

“Listen to what I’m telling you. The battle is finished, you can come back.”

Nothing.

“SOLDIER first class, Sephiroth!” Sephiroth jerks. Genesis hates ding that to him, but it gets the job done. Sephiroth looked at his face but didn’t quite see it.

“The battle is over dear heart. Come back to me.” Genesis ran his thumb through the blood on his face. None of it was his own. It did not take the once over Genesis gave him anyway to know that he wasn’t hurt.

His lovely hair was drenched in red, it would stain for a day or two, but that just meant more time helping him wash it. It was something Genesis always liked doing.

“Gen?” Sephiroth murmured to him. his eyes were still clouded, but it was now with the confused depersonalised terror. “What did I do?” He asked and as he did he started shaking.

“Nothing you were not supposed to,” Genesis said evasively. It wouldn’t do to further distress Sephiroth here. Sephiroth however, was insistent as ever.

“But I did do something?!” He started to breath heavier. “Please Genesis, please, what did I do.”

Genesis moves a hand to Sephiroth’s neck and pulls him down to touch foreheads.

“Shhhh, shh my Angel,”

Sephiroth did not cry. He never did. He did not cry, or make distressed noises, he just shook. Shook and stayed silent as Genesis tried to guide him back to himself.

***

From the ground, Angeal looked up at them, Zack under his arm as the boy came down from his second panic attack since the battle ended.

“They look like Angels of death,” he whispered to Angeal solemnly.

The man could only sigh and squeeze the boys Shoulder. He couldn’t blame Zack for viewing them that way. Had they not been his friends he would have seen them exactly the same way. They were both the strongest SOLDIER’s Shinra had to offer. If Angeal was being truthful, they both had the potential to burn the world down.

But to him they were as they had always been. Two broken boy soldiers, too traumatised and broken down by the president and RnD to do more than cling to each other through the storm.

He feared the day one of them let go…

[spookyxsprinkles]

🍦 Freezer Burn [oneshot]

todoroki touya × gender neutral and poc friendly reader.

-> not safe for work // 6.3k words // AO3. -> warnings: angst, break up, arguing, crying, touya has an avoidant attachment style, dialogue heavy, poor communication, nipple biting, oral, possessive, fingering.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"Don't be so melodramatic. We weren't even dating," Touya said, taking his keys out of his pocket.

"I--I know but... you know what I mean."

"What do you expect me to say?" He scoffed. "That I'm sorry? 'Cause I'm not. I don't want this."

"Liar."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." He opened the door of your apartment and walked out towards his car.

 "You think I don't know you're pushing me away on purpose?" You follow him out, not caring that you had different shoes on. "As much as you like to pretend you don't care, I know you--"

He interrupted you with an angry laugh, before turning to face you as he reached the sidewalk in front of his car. "You must be delusional if you think you have me all figured out. Don't tell me what I feel. You don't fucking know me."

His car's lights flashed as it unlocked and he opened the door, standing there and glaring at you like if you had spit in his face. Maybe, in his mind, you did.

"I don't need to know every little thing about you to know that you're lying to yourself because you're afraid."

"Afraid of what, huh? Afraid that I'll actually start to care about you as more than just a hole I use to get my rocks off, before ghosting you like all the others that came before? Yeah, you're not special, sweetheart," his hands trembled with fury.

You visibly flinched at his words.

You knew he was right. You were acquainted with him through mutual friends for quite some time before getting physically involved with him. You knew of his non-committal self-sabotaging tendencies. You knew, but it didn't make his words hurt any less.

A flash of guilt flickered in his icy eyes but it disappeared just as soon as it came thanks to the scorching heat of his emotions. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, trying to keep your voice steady as you spoke quietly with stinging eyes.

"Maybe I'm not special, but at least I can be honest with myself. Which is more than you can say about yourself."

He threw his hands up in the air, laughing. "Real cute coming from you. I'm not the one that's so desperate for attention I start writing sappy love stories in my head. Maybe someday you'll find someone who wants to deal with this shit, but it's not gonna be me."

He moved to get in his car, so you took a few steps forward which was enough to catch his attention and stop him from getting in.

"You were just as lonely and desperate for attention as me when we first met, Touya. You parade around all day acting like you don't care about anything, you can't feel anything, but if that was the case you wouldn't come back. You always come back home."

It was a slip up a few months ago. The two of you were out with some friends at a karaoke room and he said he wanted to go home. You never brought it up to him, but he could tell from the way you nearly choked on your food, that you heard him. Since then, every time he heard the word 'home' he'd think about that moment and regret letting himself drink enough to forget his common fucking sense.

And now you had acknowledged that it was a real moment that actually happened when he'd much rather shove the memory away and pretend it was something someone else said. Someone not him.

You stood a few feet in front of him, sniffling and staring down at the tires of his car that he had taught you how to change and fill with air without you asking him to.

"You're the most stubborn person I've ever met. You never do anything you don't want to do, but you kept coming back." You wiped your nose, ignoring the feeling of the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. "Even now, you're still standing here, talking with me instead of leaving. If you didn't care, you would have already left."

He froze as if you had pushed the pause button on his anger. He stared at you intensely. The only sounds breaking the silence was a dog barking at sirens in the distance and your sniffles.

He hated that you were right.

"So what?"

He got in his car, slamming the door in anger and started the engine.

He buckled his seat belt and turned in his seat to look through the rear window as he slowly backed out of the parking space.

You panicked, suddenly shoving your upper body inside his open window.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" He hit the breaks immediately, causing you to flail as you lost your balance and he swiftly grabbed your arms to keep you from slipping and busting your head on asphalt.

"W--We haven't finished talking..!" You gasped, feeling your heartbeat pounding in your chest. "If you leave now, you'll only feel worse later!"

He simply stared at you in disbelief. His mind was screaming at him to get the hell out of there. The only thing stopping him from flooring the gas pedal was the fact that your legs still dangled helplessly outside of the car as you struggled to get inside.

You looked ridiculously stupid as you clung to the window with a tear streaked face. You also seemed so determined…

"Get out of my car," he snapped. "Right now."

He released a hand from you and moved it towards the handle of the door, but you caught his wrist with your hands.

"No," you said as firmly as your grip on his wrist.

His eyes watched as you continued to struggle to balance your body on the door comfortably. He had no idea what your endgame was here.

"You're fucking crazy."

"I love you, Touya," you gasped out. "I'm in love with you and I know you're afraid. I know you've been hurt before. I know you hate everything that's happening right now, but I can't let you leave like this." You tried wiping your eye by rubbing it against your shoulder, before looking back at him.

"I won't force you to stay with me and I won't force you to share things you don't want to share, but I also won't let you run away without us properly talking things through. If we're gonna break up then I don't want to let it end with that as one of our regrets."

He hated that you weren't giving up on him so easily.

Touya stared at you as you spoke. You were so calm and reasonable in spite of the ridiculous position you were in. There was no anger or irritation in your voice, just sincerity and...

He let out a deep breath in an attempt to stay calm.

"That's very big of you," he said defensively. He was always so defensive. "Trust me, it's better this way."

Your eyes studied his face before you decide to take the plunge and vocalize the thoughts that had been swimming around in your head recently. "Is it better or is it just the easiest way to avoid your feelings of inadequacy and fear of rejection?"

You watched as his eyes widened a minuscule amount that likely would've gone unnoticed if you hadn't known him for so long. You could feel the flames of his rage from the way his face contorted, his mouth opening to set you ablaze.

Your hands slipped down from his wrist to hold his hand gently in yours, your thumbs resting on the back of his hand.

Your grip was loose. He could easily pulled himself free if he wanted to.

But he didn't.

And that's all you needed.

"I've seen you be blunt beyond the point of just being rude to others and to yourself. You have standards that make it easy for you to look down on those who don't meet them yet even the ones that do fit them get pushed away. You easily say whatever's on your mind, unless what's on your mind risks leaving you vulnerable."

Your thumbs delicately drew circles into the dark marks on the back of his hand that were uniquely his. A sad smile marred your face as you continued to speak.

"I'm always watching you, always listening." Your eyes looked up into his, persevering through his gaze that scorched anything he deemed a threat. "You'd rather be alone than feel alone."

He was speechless as he watched you speak. You read him like an open book. A book he routinely burned whenever someone poked and prodded in a pathetic attempt to get closer to him. How had he let his fire get extinguished so easily? How did it not burn you like it did everyone else?

Like it burned him.

Even he was unable to escape his own flames unscathed.

The fantasy that played in his mind's eye was one where you patiently stood before him as the smoke cleared. His eyes stung and his breathing hitched at the thought.

He sighed deeply, looking more tired than you'd ever seen him before.

"I was serious," his words and tone contrasting with the heavy look he carried on his face. "You're wasting your time if you expect me to tell me what you wanna hear."

You shook your head, "I'm not asking you to say it back. I don't need words when your actions mean more to me." I bring his knuckles to my lips, pressing a soft kiss before looking into his eyes, "Besides, if it's time you're worried about, I wouldn't mind wasting it together."

His entire body reflexively ached to leave at the display of vulnerability, yet he couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

Words escaped him as he stared back into your eyes with a confusing mix of fear and hope swirling in his icy blues.

He swallowed hard and finally spoke, "So, all this time," he started as he gathered his bearings, "you've been watching me like some kind of weirdo?"

"Of course," you laughed softly. The movement set a jolt of pain to your abdomen that reminded you of your current position. "Can we go back inside and talk? My stomach hurts from hanging out in your car like this..."

You hissed as you tried to remove yourself from the car. It was definitely gonna leave a mark. He waited until you moved back to the sidewalk before he parked and got out.

"I didn't tell you to jump through the window like a maniac. Seriously, what's wrong with you?"

"Desperate times call for--"

"Dumb ass fucking measures?"

"Yes, precisely. Glad we're on the same page."

He rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, walking back to the apartment. "Masochist."

"Sadist."

"You know the door was unlocked, right? I was gonna show you 'til you started manhandling me."

"Never let them know your next move."

"So, just dangle like an idiot and hope you don't get run over?"

"I'll admit I'm not good under pressure."

He snorted as you opened the door. He just realized you had chased him out in different shoes. Desperate times, indeed.

"Anyways," you continued as you shut the door behind you and removed your shoes, "You liked it. Thought it was super cool and hot when I was flailing around like an idiot."

"Yeah," he said genuinely, catching you off guard and nearly causing you to trip over the entryway step, but you caught yourself against his arm.

You looked up at him with hopeful eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he repeated sincerely, his eyes staying on yours. "I did."

You swallowed, feeling your eyes prickle with tears as your mouth gaped at him.

He pinched your cheek.

"C'mon," he said as he walked away from you and further into your home to take a seat on the couch. "Let's do this talking thing. We can watch a movie after or whatever..."

You couldn't see his face as he walked away but you could hear his uncharacteristically breathy inflection and stiff tone when he spoke. Was he feeling nervous? Shy..?

The fact that he was the one trying to get the conversation started rather than avoiding it made your chest bloom with warmth. You had expected him to come up with other things to do first in order to put off the awkward and uncomfortable feelings for a bit longer.

You hopped over to him with a blindingly bright grin, sitting near him on the couch to give him some space for this conversation. However, he pulled your body closer to his so that your sides were pressed up against each other. He wrapped an arm around you while you leaned against his chest.

"So..." he started and you could hear something akin to timidity in his tone so you hugged him, letting your hands affectionately stroke his sides. "I'm shit at feelings."

You wanted to laugh at his blunt word choice but didn't want to come off as mocking and discourage him from speaking. "You are not shit at feelings. You seem to feel things quite strongly. We just need to work on helping you feel more comfortable with letting them out in a healthy way, rather than boxing them up and defaulting to avoidance."

"So, I'm shit at feelings."

"If you say that one more time I am going to bite you."

"I'm shit at-- what the fuck!"

"You were warned."

"My fucking tit--"

"Not my fault it's so chewy."

"I'm shit at-- don't you bite me you fucking animal. Hear me out." He had pinched your cheek again to stop your open mouth from it's impending attack. "I'm shit at this. I know. Don't… laugh at me."

Your eyes softened and you brought your hand up to cup the one he had squeezing your cheek. He released his hold on your skin but you kept it held as you let it slide down to your lap.

"It might feel a bit awkward for you but I promise I won't think less of you for sharing your feelings. I appreciate that you've been trying."

"'Been trying?' I've done jack shit."

"No, you have done 'shit'." You reassured him as your fingers drew circles into the skin of his hand. "You came inside--"

"I always come inside," he smirked.

You bit him again.

"What? No complaint for me this time, Touya?"

"I deserved it."

"Masochist."

"Sadist."

Your lips pursed for a moment as you tried to remember where you were.

"Ah, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," you glared at him playfully, "You've already shown me that you're trying. You came back inside, initiated our talking time, and you're participating, too. I know emotional stuff feels hard, but I'm really, really proud of you."

He let out a 'tch' in jest, before leaning down to whisper into the side of your head. "In case you forgot, I also listened to you while you tried playing leap frog on my car."

"Very true, but I didn't forget. I didn't want to include it since I was practically holding you hostage at the time."

"Hostage?" He laughed haughtily, "If I really wanted to leave you I would've ran you over."

"Why is that strangely sweet..."

"'Cause you're a damn masochist. Get help."

"This, coming from the sadist..." The room was quiet as I rubbed his chest lightly with one hand. "I was really scared you were going to leave earlier, Touya. Like, for good."

He clenched his jaw but didn't say anything, opting to listen since he knew she probably had more to say on the matter. And she did.

"I was afraid that I scared you off by talking about-- about whatever menial domestic thing it was we were talking about before. I can't even remember what it was." You clutched his shirt without thinking as you struggled to remember what could've been the catalyst to losing the person you loved.

"Toilet paper," he stated after a pause. "You read about some sale at the store and were talking about how we should go before the weekend so we could stock up. Then you mentioned wanting to buy me strawberry ice cream."

Silence.

"It all sounded so permanent, so easy to you." You could feel his body tense as he struggled to force himself to speak. "Seeing a future where we go grocery shopping for toilet paper and you buying me something. Something that'll sit in the freezer waiting for me even when I'm not around. Something just for me." His last words were barely a whisper.

Your mouth felt dry, it made sense. He had a hard time staying in one place for too long if it felt like he was being smothered or expected to do things he didn't want to do. Your apartment was no exception, even if he clearly spent more time here than any other place.

"Yeah, you're not special, sweetheart."

You felt a cold ache in your chest at the thought of his angry words from earlier.

You told yourself they were just that, angry words. If they were true, would he have bothered to come back at all? No. You knew Touya was good at lying and even better at emotional warfare. It's how he protected himself. He hadn't done it to you since before the two of you were friends, back when you were just another random person trying too hard to get to know him. Today was the first time in years he had said something that caused you to feel bad about yourself.

You would need to talk about it with him later. Right now you wanted to hear him out, so you shove the memory away for now. You can worry about it later.

As painful as it was to hear him speak of his troubles with having a place to call home, you were grateful to him for really trying. Really, it was incredible just how far he's come already. You always knew he was a fast learner if he wanted to be and this meant so much to you. He had never let himself get this vulnerable with you before.

You wanted to tell him something in response but why did it have to be now, of all times, that you couldn't find the words to speak?

You forced yourself to swallow and nodded at him in encouragement. You didn't want to cry and risk him getting cold feet about the feelings thing. You didn't want him to think this was a mistake and that you couldn't handle the truth, because you could, you just felt deeply for the inner conflicts that took place inside of his head. His fears, his happiness, his efforts... it all meant the world to you and it was really getting to you.

You quietly cleared your throat and with a hoarse voice said, "I can see how that would have caused you to react the w-way that you did."

You mentally cursed yourself for the way your voice broke pathetically mid-sentence. "Sorry about that." And you were. You knew he got flighty over things like that but in the moment I just wasn't thinking.

"Hey, don't wimp out on me now." He pinched at your cheek again. "If I'm gonna bare my damn soul or whatever the hell, you sure as shit better not hold out on me. If you gotta get weepy, then get weepy. I'll save the laughing for later."

Your lips trembled at his words and you can feel your face crumple as you bury it into his chest and wept.

"I was so scared I lost you, Touya."

He stared down at you, committing the sight to memory.

His carelessness did this.

He pulled you in closer to him and placed his cheek on the crown of your head. A little while later you calmed down, sniffling and apologizing for accidentally turning his shirt into a tissue.

"Sorry, this is really embarrassing," you sniffled out with a stuffy nose.

He took in the sight of your puffy eyes and runny nose, before looking away. "S'whatever. I know you, too, you know. That thing you said earlier? About you always watching and listening? I do the same shit with you. If being a crybaby helps, then do it unless you wanna be shit at feelings, too."

Sniffle. "We're both not the best at handling our own feelings, huh..."

"An understatement, in my case."

"It's good that you're acknowledging the areas where you could use some improvement." You say as you reach up to cup his cheek and kissed the corner of his lip. "You're doing so well, Touya."

The way your thumb gently rubbed the pale skin of his cheek while you looked at him with honey in your eyes made his chest ache.

"You--" he swallowed as he held your gaze, "think so?"

You nodded and leaned in to press another kiss on his lips. "I know so."

He felt that familiar urge to run away when shit got too personal, but he yearned for more of the pure warmth you offered to his cold, sorry existence.

"I can't promise to always be better. I'll fuck up. I know it. Just don't give-- don't give up on me."

Sharing feelings was embarrassing, painfully so. At least, that's what he told himself to explain the lump in his throat when he struggled to say the words out loud. His hand moved to your thigh and squeezed it, "I'm stubborn but I don't want to fuck this up. When I fuck up, I'll need time to get my head out of my ass."

You felt like crying again seeing how desperately he tried to let you know he wasn't going to always be good at the communication, but he wanted to be and he was trying.

"I'll sit in the freezer waiting for you."

"I-- what? The hell?"

You laugh softly at his dumbfounded expression. "I'll be the ice cream sitting in the freezer waiting for you. So, don't worry about having to rush the process. Do your best. I believe in you, Touya."

He stared at your face for a moment.

"You have low iron. The freezer would kill you."

"I'll be fine 'cause you're always warm."

He once again felt that familiar ache in his chest that he usually got around you. "Wait too long and you'll get freezer burn."

"Are you saying a little freezer burn would keep you from eating your favourite ice cream?" You paused when you noticed his amused expression. "Okay, I walked myself into that one."

"Yeah," the corner of his lip twitched as his eyes darkened. "You did."

"Hey, I know that look. We need to finish talking first-- T-Touya!"

He grabbed your legs, flipping you on your back against the couch with him crawling over you.

"Don't you wanna reward me for doing well so far?" He asked in a low voice. You whimpered at the sight of his heavily lidded eyes looking down at you, amused with your flustered face.

"W-Well, positive reinforcement is a good way of encouraging good behavior, so yes we can, but you have to swear we will talk about this right after-"

He expertly rolled his hips against you, making you gasp. "I'm feeling pretty encouraged right now. You can feel it too, I bet."

You definitely felt it.

He kissed your lips as he removed your bottoms, pushing the backs of your knees as far against as he knew you could comfortably take, exposing the entirety of you in your underwear.

"I swear," he licked a slow stripe against the fabric before pushing it to the side and staring hungrily at your flesh, "on my god damn dick, we'll talk right after I make you come at least four times."

"F-Four?" You could feel his thumb teasing you as he swiped up and down your flesh.

"Five now," his lips wrapped around your sweet spot. He sucked while rubbing his tongue against it at the same time, making your body shudder.

He needed to make up for making you cry so much today.

Your hips bucked against his face, then his fingers.

"So fucking eager after all that talking, huh?" He gave a lopsided grin as he licked the taste of you left behind on his lips. "Yeah, we're definitely talking more often."

He soaked his fingers with the bottle of lube he liked leaving between the seat cushions for times like these. You felt one of his slick fingers tease your tight hole.

"Tell me who fucks you better than me."

"N-No one!"

"Weak shit. Say it again."

"You're the only one who fucks me t-this well!"

He slowly pressed his finger in, the stretch making you sing. He took his time prepping you before inserting another finger and moving in and out of you. He lapped you into whines, working his hand at the pace he knew drove you wild. You cried out praises for him, which he liked almost as much as he liked fucking you to tears.

"And who does this hole belong to? Who owns the rest of this pretty body?"

"Y-You do, it's yours, Touya! It's all yours for you to use as you please!"

You felt your legs trembling as he kept his hands busy with fucking you. The coil inside of you tightening as he vigorously pumped and sucked.

"T-Touya..!" You voice broke as you wailed.

He smirked, feeling satisfied at how fervently your hips bucked against him. You were a needy mess and he hadn't even stretched you with his fat cock yet.

Soon.

"It's mine. You're all fucking mine." His head dived back in and you felt yourself on the precipice of-

"Yeah, you're not special sweetheart."

You shook your head and looked down at him as he looked up at you. He sucked you hard, making your back arch. You were so close.

You stared through half lidded eyes, throat already sore from the sounds he'd easily pulled from you. You tried to focus on the view of him pleasuring you with expertise. Your was mouth open as you shut your eyes and leaned your head back against the couch. You were so close.

"Afraid of what, huh? Afraid that I'll actually start to care about you as more than just a hole I use to get my rocks off, before ghosting you like all the others that came before you?"

You grit your teeth.

Now was not the time for this.

Your eyes shut. You forced the memory away from the forefront of your mind. It doesn't matter right now, you'll tell him how you feel about it later.

Now wasn't the time.

Later.

Later.

...

"Fuck!!" You felt Touya pull his body away from you. "Did I not hear you say the safeword!?"

You opened your eyes and Touya's blurry face had moved from in between your legs to kneeling on the floor beside where you laid on the couch. You blinked your eyes and wiped them with your hands. Oh.

You were crying again.

The realization brought more tears and you looked over at Touya who stared down at you fearfully.

"Maybe someday you'll find someone who wants to deal with this shit, but it's not gonna be me."

"Hey, what--" his voice cracked.

Your body shook as you sobbed into your hands.

A sinking feeling had found it's place in his stomach. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't-- I didn't hear you-"

"T-That's not it." Your voice muffled by your hands and your stuffed nose as you continued to sob. "The sex was consensual the w-whole time."

He looked down at you confused. Relieved that he hadn't hurt you in that way, but stressed since he didn't know what happened to you. His chest burned with anxiety and it made him feel restless. He grabbed your throw blanket and pulled it over you, which you used to hide your sloppy face as you tried to calm yourself down.

"Touya," you cried quietly and he stared down at you frozen with fear.

It was him.

"Tell me what I did." He knew he'd fuck up. He just didn't think it'd be this soon.

You didn't want to hurt him. You wanted to protect him but how could you protect him from the very words he spat at you in a desperate rage? Not speaking up about your own feelings fully and pushing them aside for someone else's sake is how you got here in the first place.

You needed to practice what you preached.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you said to me."

The parking lot. He already knew. He hated himself when he said those things and he hated himself now.

It was only a matter of time until he'd ruin things here.

You saw him grab his phone from the floor before standing up and walking across the living room. It must have fallen during your activities.

"I'll text Toga to come by. I'll stay until then."

"Don't go."

"I shouldn't be here."

"Because you hurt my feelings?"

"Yes!" He snapped. "This isn't masochism, it's straight up fucking delusional if you can't see the problem with me staying."

"You hurt my feelings," you sniffled. "It's going hurt whether or not you leave. Stay and talk with me about it."

"This talking shit clearly isn't working. One second you're telling me I fuck you the best then suddenly you're crying in the next. I already ruined whatever we could've had before it even started. We already know how this ends, so don't waste your time."

"If you leave then we will know how this ends." You sat up on the couch, clutching the soft blanket like a lifeline. Your voice was firm, but not enough to cover your soft determination. "You're hurt and so am I. So, sit with me instead of running away. Leaving things the way they are now is the sure-fire way to ruin this."

His jaw tightened as he stayed where he was.

"We talked a little bit earlier, but the issue just now wasn't your fault. It was mine-"

"You're not the one who said all that nasty shit to the person you-" He turned away and glared holes into an innocent plant. "It's over. We're not even fucking dating and it's over." He ran a hand through his hair and laughed.

"You did say horrible things, but I kept brushing off my feelings. We talked a bit earlier, but I still had feelings left unsaid." You stood up, the sound of your feet padding against the floor behind him made him stiffen. You stood in front of him, with your arms loosely crossed on your chest. "How are you supposed to know that stuff was still bothering me? It's not like you can read my mind."

"Don't be fucking dense."

"I seem to recall us wanting to work things out. You told me not to give up on you, remember?"

"Before I realized I traumatized you by saying a bunch of shit!"

"You didn't traumatize me, you hurt my feelings. There's a difference."

"You know the reason you had 'feelings left unsaid' is 'cause I basically mounted you before you could finish saying them, right?"

"No, that's not true and don't demonize yourself like that." You reached for his hand that was balled into a fist at his side, but he pulled it away.

He wasn't worthy of your compassion.

You frowned but didn't let it deter you. "I said it was okay --and before you say anything-- I wasn't coerced into it, either."

His eye twitched at her already knowing what he was going to say before he said it.

"You tease and mock, but you've shown me time and time again that you respect me and my body. You waited until I gave consent and I know that if I didn't give it, you would've let it go and let me talk about my feelings instead. You didn't take advantage of me. I disrespected myself by not prioritizing my own feelings. That's what the main issue was here."

"You said you couldn't stop thinking about what I said. It's my fault, they were my shitty fucking words."

"I'm not trying to say your words weren't a part of it, they definitely were, but I know you were just... saying what you could to put distance in between us."

He sneered, "Is that what you're telling yourself? Doesn't matter why I said it. Intentional or not, lies or not: it still fucking hurt you." His lips curled bitterly as remorse stained the cool blue of his eyes. "It'll be what you think of when you see me from now on."

You took a small step towards him, careful not to invade his personal space but enough to momentarily satisfy your need for physical closeness. Your need for the comfortable heat he offered to you as you both stood together in silence.

"I won't lie..." You started.

He knew that you never lied to him. Your stupidly sincere approach to interactions with him were probably what got him wrapped around your finger in the first place.

He did wonder if you ever lied to yourself about him, though. It'd explain why you let him stick around even while knowing he was a jackass.

He also recognized there wasn't any actual weight to that way of thinking. If anything, the times where your feelings felt so real outweighed those paranoid thoughts of his. Sometimes he'd catch you looking at him. The sweet honey dripping from your eyes at him doing fuck all felt so raw that he'd panic and have to leave for a while.

Whenever you smiled at him, even the soft little ones, you beamed bright enough to burn him to cinders if he let it. Lately, he had found himself simmering under your heat longer and longer, letting himself get singed by you.

Seeing you fidget with the hem of your top snapped him out of his thoughts. You were still in your underwear and it reminded him that he'd burned you. Not with the heat of patience and kindness that you regularly thawed him with, but with flames full of his own agonizingly self-sabotaging wrath.

"I won't lie," you repeated after taking a couple seconds to gather your thoughts. "I'll probably always think about what you said."

He already knew it yet it still made him hate himself more.

"The same way you'll probably always think about it, too."

You sweet, merciful, stupid fucking angel.

"Stop."

"No. You need to hear this."

"Just fucking stop."

"Don't interrupt me, Touya."

He glared at you in irritation as he clenched and unclenched his hands in an attempt to keep himself grounded. Mentally and literally. If he ran away now, you wouldn't be able to share your thoughts. He owed you that and so much more.

"It's something that effected the both of us and it'll change the way we are, but we don't have to let it change us in a bad way. We can use our hurt to help us grow." You said while looking at him with eyes full of hope. "We won't forget it happened and we shouldn't."

"We-- you--," he stammered. He could see the patience in your face and logic, feel the tender touch of your words. He was concurrently immolated by your steadfast mercy and by his venomous wrath. "We need to end this before you get hurt again."

"'Before I get hurt again'? I am going to get hurt again. By you, myself, or some other thing. It's what happens as we live and grow. The difference is learning from it. This is our 'before', and if you let us, we can work on moving on towards our 'after'."

"You know how ridiculously optimistic that sounds, right? Stupidly sappy, too. You really think it's as simple as that?"

"Can I hold your hand?"

He blinked in confusion at the randomness of the question but gave a small nod. You took ahold of it with both of your own.

"We both know it won't be simple. We both have baggage and hurt we'd need to address if we want to be something. It's going to be really hard, but if you stay I know that we'll both put in the work to reach our 'after' and every 'after' after that."

He stayed silent as he took in her words. You really saw--

"--Lots of 'after's, huh?" He quietly spoke as he tried to drown out his nerves with a teasing tone.

He looked at you with hopeful eyes that brought a small smile to your face.

"Lots of 'after's. I am your ice cream sitting in the freezer, remember?"

He'd scoff if he hadn't just gotten the wind knocked from his lungs.

You raise his hand to your lips before pressing a little kiss on the scars on the back of his hand before tugging it gently so he'd follow you to sit back down on the couch.

"I'm not eating freezer burnt ice cream."

"Hey! That's so mean…" you pouted. "And wasteful. You're way too picky of an eater, no wonder you're always grumpy."

"I'm fucking with you."

"Oh, I know. I'm fucking with you, too."

"Sadist..." He affectionately played with the shell of your ear while resting his cheek on your head. The gesture filled her with elation as they sat in comfortable silence.

"Look, I'm..." he started, struggling with his words.

"I know."

"I shouldn't-- I shouldn't have said those things earlier."

"I know."

"You didn't deserve it," his voice was softer.

"I know," you wrapped your arms around his firm torso, squeezing a little tighter.

"You're clingy. What're you thinking? Don't skimp out on me again, I wanna hear all the ugly shit, too." He lightly pinched at your cheek, "This shit ain't gonna work if it's one-sided. Start talking."

You smiled as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

"Okay, Touya."

[bhawk-goose]

I've just started watching the Pokemon anime from the beginning for some reason and I already have some thoughts. I'm just using this post as a journal.

Firstly, Professor Oak is a cruel man, he knew all the pokemon other than Pikachu were taken and still made Ash go through the process of picking up each.

Also, this show is like 30 years old so you'd think comedy would be different, but for some reason Pikachu playing baseball with is pokeball is the funniest shit ever to me.

Pikachu has already shown it is far too powerful. I get that pokemon are generally more powerful than humans, there's a reason trainers have their pokemon beat the shit out of wild pokemon on their behalf instead of just doing it themselves, but god. Pikachu knocked out twelve people, most of which were probably adults. AND Ash is also godlike, he was the closest to Pikachu. He was the one that the electric current went through to knock out the twelve people in the crowd, but he was fucking FINE. Just some scorch marks, that's it. This is a ten year old child, with that level of current he should be dead. He should be just a charred skeleton.

Has Ash done no research or is only being able to say their name specific to Pikachu? It's an animal, what the fuck did he expect? Does he also expect a response when he asks a dog who the goodest boy is?

Next, Pikachu hates being confined, so removing the waist-leash made sense, but why the gloves? They weren't even touching Pikachu, they were on his hands.

why is there boss music playing when Pidgey appears and Ash thinks he's gonna fight it? He's specifically fighting it because it's easy. Also I'm putting it on the same line cuz it's the same scene basically, what kind of yawn was that? Pikachu's "cha" was clearly supposed to be a yawn, but that did not sound tired at all. That is what yawns would sound like if we did them when we had too much energy.

remember when I said trainers have their pokemon beat the shit out of wild ones on their behalf? Apparently not Ash. I'm convinced that Ash is from our world, but doesn't know much about Pokemon, so he's just heard of it in passing and knows nothing. And when he was in our world he never encountered any non-human life.

"enjoy your last moments of freedom"? Ash isn't even trying to be a caring pokemon master, he is just straight up has no sympathy for them. I'm glad this kid never met an animal in the real world, at least pokemon can fight back a lot better.

What was that laugh at Ash's failure? That was far too human. I hate that. Pikachu is a straight up demon. New theory, ontop of Ash being from our world, there are demons(or some kind of demon equivalent) in the pokemon world. Pikachu is one of them, and pokeballs are like holy water to them. That's why Pikachu doesn't want to be in the pokeball.

I know this is pokemon, and there are tank turtles with no clear sign(to my knowledge) of how they get the water they shoot, and rats with unlimited supplies of electricity, and sentient magnets, but Pidgey is none of those. Pidgey is a normal fucking bird, nothing special about it. Where the fuck did it get that sand from??

the pokedex is fucking amazing. Earlier I thought it was just coincidental that it was a bit late, but no. That thing is alive, and it fucking HATES Ash.

why the hell do wild pokemon get jealous of trained pokemon? Just get in the ball and you'll be a trained pokemon. And trainers openly do not care about the pokemon they catch, Ash already showed that.

the way it cut straight from Ash and Pikachu passing a Magikarp in the river to a gyarados makes it look like that thing just evolved on the spot.

Misty not caring about Ash at all is completely fair. I don't care if she doesn't have any context to know what happenned, there is a hurt animal.

"Pikachu, this can't... happen" he's not wrong, it can't, it's only the first episode of the show and Pikachu's a main character.

"the town of pallet" sounds completely different from "pallet town", and why does Ash think he's a noble defender, he's ten, and he's defending a rat that kocked out twelve people.

Pikachu just created a giant sky beam. That was not a lightning strike, it was like a mile thick. Pikachu is not a demon, it's far too powerful, it is satan himself.

anyway, those were my thoughts on the first episode of the pokemon anime. It was like 11 minutes long, but I took like 30 to write about it. If I get any likes on this I'll keep posting my thoughts as I watch it.

[idabbleincrazy]

More red!k clex:

“Please. Kal, don’t tease.”

Kal nipped at Lex’s lip before dipping his head to trail a path of scorching, wet, kisses along his throat, stopping to worry the skin where he’d bitten a faint mark into him earlier. Lex gasped at the suction over his pulse, knowing that even with his sped up healing, he would have a mark there for a couple of days, impossible to hide, an obvious claim on his body. Like Clark had already claimed his heart, his soul. Kal eased up when he was finally happy with the deep purple bruise blooming under the pale skin, his cock throbbing against his zipper at the possession of this beautiful man. Why had he waited so long to take what was rightfully his, what had been his since he’d breathed new life back into him?

“Kal.”

“Fuck, so pretty when you’re needy. How could Clark have never realized what perfect little submissive you really are, deep down? All he has to do is ask, and there you are, ready to do his bidding. So eager to please him. To please me.”

“Yes…Kal, yes, please. Take your pleasure in me, from me. Use me, Kal.”

Kal groaned against Lex’s collarbone, teeth sinking in just a little deeper as his arousal spiked higher at Lex’s moaning plea. Feeling magnanimous, he let his hand finally wrap around Lex’s erection, stroking the thick length slowly, a dull thud sounding in his ears as Lex let his head fall back against the wall with a broken moan. Metropolis’ most favored son, putty in his hands; all that power, given over willingly to him. It was a high all of its own, more thrilling than even the red.

Still stroking the cock in his hand, Kal continued his exploration of the miles of flesh offered up to him, licking and biting over any spot sensitive enough to elicit a shiver from the older man. He traced his tongue around the pretty, swollen nub of a flushed pink nipple, teeth tugging harder when Lex writhed in his grasp before laving his tongue over the areola to soothe the sting. And still his hand stroked, the way eased now by the spurt of pre-come that slicked the ruddy head and trickled down the shaft.

“Oh, God, Kal!”

“Years of fantasies have nothing on the real thing, Lexy, do they?” Kal kissed and tasted his way down Lex’s body, tongue swirling into his navel, fucking the wet muscle into the indent like a preview of things to come. “Fuck, baby, never thought skin, just bare, simple skin, could taste so sweet. I plan to taste all of you, Lexy.”

Lex lifted his head from the wall to watch as Kal sank to his knees in front of him, only the firm grip around his cock keeping him from tipping over into oblivion at the sight. How many nights had he spent in an empty bed with this image as his companion? How many other faces had morphed into Clark’s as they bent themselves into this position? Nothing compared to reality. Not with that perfect, golden face looking up at him, green eyes bright and glinting red, lips parting as he started to lean forward. Only to stop just an inch away, breath ghosting over heated flesh as he spoke.

“Tell me, Lexy, does that accelerated healing of yours apply to recovery time? Can you go another round if I make you come down my throat?”

“Ah, fuck, Kal! Jesus, do you have any idea what it does to me to hear you talk like that?” Lex bucked forward in Kal’s grip, straining against the chains holding him up in search for leverage. “Do it, please, suck me. Trust me, as long as I’ve waited, I could come three times and still get hard for you. You could fuck my mouth, and I would come just from the taste of you, Kal. I want everything.”

“So do I, Lexy. And I intend to have it.”

@leatafandom

[medicdoodles]

DRAtchet Week 2022 Day 4: Great Things do Happen.

(First Day)||(Day 3)||(Day 5)||(Last Day)

Deadlock knows that the war will shift soon. So he goes and looks for work with no strings attached.

The war is going to escalate soon. Deadlock had no real prove of this, but last time he ignored this feeling he ended up left behind. High command is going to have him sign a contract to only do work for them. While a long time ago he would have liked that. To have one guarantee.

The truth is he has Ratchet to think about, not that the mech has said anything about wanting to bond or anything. Deadlock still has to take care of his lover. He knows that Ratchet would not want to join any side of this conflict. Having other bots dictate who he is and isn't allowed to fix is against his coding.

That means that if he wants to keep Ratchet, he will have to find honest work. Easier said than done, honestly he's tried that before. However, this time he won't take no for an answer. If he has to he will threaten bots to give him the work.

Damn, if he hadn't bought Ratchet that nice house he would have a good amount left over, but it's not a regret he has. Ratchet likes it, likes it enough to stay there even if Deadlock has offered his nicer appartment.

There's still time for him to take up more contracts. At this point he will even agree to the Senate's dirty work that pays less than a cube of energon just to save more. Doing all of the bounties also gets him in the spotlight of other assassins, who normally took the scraps he leaves behind. Now he has to time the last job he'll take and when he will excuse himself from the Decepticon army.

"17000 is starting pay. All you have to do is stay in alt mode and follow the directions of the stunt director." The recruiter he ran into while staying at the motel parking lot in between jobs says to him.

"17000, no insurance?" Deadlock should be angry about risking his life for less than two meals, but it sounds like steady work and anonymity. Really the only downside so far is that they expect him to tour with the group.

"No we have one mechanic on site but the talent is top priority, get it." An opening.

"So what if I wave my right to go to him for repairs, could you up my pay?" The mech isn't surprised. He supposes that the other bots who are dumb enough to take this job are also desperate.

"It goes to 30000." The bot sighs as he scratches the build up in his microphones.

"Deal." Deadlock holds his hand out to shake on it.

"Deal. Your first day is in a week. If you're late on showing up your fired." Should he be intimidated, his Ratchet has a remote ground bridge he sure he can ask to borrow it.

----

Fuck, they didn't tell him that the mech they hired to preform the stunts had never done any before. No it was only after he crashed into him and five other cars in the fire pit that they tell him. Most of the performers were a bunch of pretty looking younglings, who were easily preyed upon or hatchlings that had just grew up around the stunts.

Really only the bot from Nyon with a fire outlier ability has any control over his performance. Which Deadlock has a lot of issues with, and now has to make sure all these kids don't get hurt. He also takes up teaching the sharp shooters how to properly fire their own blasters.

All that work and he gets to go home with three new scorch marks, a broken fender, and a twisted back tire. At least they are off for the next two days due to bad weather. So he's going to get home rest on the couch and call Ratchet tomorrow.

That was until he gets into his appartment. Opening the door with a physical lock is a pain in the ass but it was safer to have two locks instead of the standard code lock. Walking into the room Ratchet is asleep on his couch. One arm wrapped around the blanket that he uses. Another one is holding the wax, theres now a new dent in the center.

His spark is about to give out. Ratchet has chosen to be here, in his hovel because he missed him. That he is the one that comforts him and trust him. How couldn't he, when Ratchet has had just as much hardships as he, how couldn't he. It's almost a shame to wake him, but the faster it's done. The faster he can sweep him off his feet and carry him to the bed.

"Hey." He shakes Ratchet's leg, gently nudging him to wake up. "I just got home.", he watches as Ratchet's eyes blink back on and synergize to his processor.

"Huh, Deadlock." Ratchet doesn't move but he does follow his movements aroubd with his eyes.

"Yeah I got off of work. So I'm going to go to bed." He can feel the smile burn onto his face. Primus imagine getting to spend the rest of his life waking up to this kind of Ratchet. He truly would be blessed. "I was hoping to get you to join me."

"Oh." He lets go of the blanket to wrap his arms around him. "Fine, but you have to pick me up."

"Of course." Like that was some kind of punishment. He scoops up both leg in one arm, the other grabs his shoulders. Or he would have, if it wasn't for the shots that got his left side.

His leg gives out and make sure Ratchet is okay he drops him back on the couch. He falls to the floor and sees the legs of the seat snap. It hits the floor hard, kicking up all the dust coating both their frames. Now his wonds are stinging.

"What happened?" Ratchet is now climbing off the couch and examining the damage. He's on his frame, legs lock around his and it's starting to get hard to think.

"It's nothing to serious I just got a bit ding up at work." That has the opposite effect as Ratchet is now digging deeper into his frame, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. "I was going to tell you tomorrow over diner but I got a job at the circus."

"The Circus?" Ratchet then runs his hands on the bent fender and twist it back into place. "What about the Decepticons? Are you not getting paid enough?" He looks back at him. "Do you need help?" They've been this close before, but never did Deadlock take the time to notice how sullen his eyes are.

"I'm planning to leave the Cons." That now gives him a bewildered look. That's a new one and damn if it doesn't look cute. "I just have to submit my two weeks."

Ratchet is shocked, so much so that he stops his examination. One hand steadies them, the other is hovering right above the bullet wound. "Really?" He doesn't move, so expressionless that Deadlock is starting to worry.

"Yes. In the next two weeks I will officially be apart of the stunt act and out of the Decepticon army." Ratchet still stays silent, and he moves to comfort him. Or he would have if Ratchet didn't suddenly push him to the ground again and kisses his face. He would like to return it but fingers dig deep into his wound and it hurt like hell again.

He wouldn't trade it for the world, he even starts to see his vision pixelate. Great things do happen, and for a while Deadlock was sure that he found happiness. It would be the law of the universe that he will drive into the worse sadness of his life.

[justinewrites]

Yo I don't really post snippets in public because I have a hard time thinking any one bit of writing is good enough to post on its own but

listen

you can have this one. First pass at a scene between Lucy and Nate (if you've seen me post about my pirate blorbos at all you know they CONSUME ME) after they've fucked nasty for the first time. Not explicit. Suicidal ideology within. Utter devotion ahead. Simping? I think the kids call it simping.

---

Nate did not sleep.

He dozed for a moment, succumbing to weariness and the alluring warmth of the bed. When he jolted awake, there she was -- alive and real and naked and next to him. Moonlight lanced through the curtains and fell upon her slumbering visage, illuminating the angelic nature of her features: wild, holy enough to burn his eyes out.

The desire to self destruct, a constant and once humble companion, had never been so strong. He shouldn’t have done this, allowing himself one night to experience the best this life had to offer only to finally, truly experience its absence. But what was the fucking point of living otherwise? He’d drown himself in the ocean come dawn. A happy death.

He could have been content in the wanting. The wanting, like the need for dying, had been with him his whole life and this was no different. It was the having that he couldn’t abide, not when he could not have it forever. The truth of it lying on the bed before him hurt so much more than anything his imagination could conjure. A vast emptiness yawned ahead: life after Lucy, not simply without.

Because this? Could not be real. It could not be constant — his usual companions were never so sweet. Lucy tossed her lovers aside like the bones of the animals she’d eaten and Nate was bloody grateful but also his life was over. She’d eaten her fill.

Given the slightest chance, he’d crack himself open and show her there was still marrow left, just for an extra minute, a moment more of her lips on him, before he was cast out to sea.

She blinked her eyes open, her lashes the wings of a dark butterfly stirring from the bloom. The corner of her mouth pulled in a slow smirk. “Already up?” she murmured, stroking a scorching finger over his cheekbone. “Haven’t I run you ragged?”

“I’m still breathing,” he said. A boyish hope blossomed in his chest, seized immediately by cynicism’s wicked vice. “There’s some life left for you to ruin.”

She examined his face, held his unwavering gaze. “You liked it.” Nate found himself at a rare loss for words. The statement would have been insulting, infuriating, had it not been uttered by those specific lips. He opened his mouth and a prayer almost tumbled out. The confession of his suicidal contemplations fought to escape. Liked it? He was bereft of purpose without it.

“I like how you kneel,” she said when he only gaped like a fish. “I like how you look at me. I’ve never been properly pleased by a man and not seen shame in his eyes.”

Shame? Shame? Shame was for Adam in the garden weeping at his own nakedness. Nate had always been the serpent, crawling on his belly and greedily devouring the remnants of fruits falling to the ground. Now the fruit, the whole bloody tree, came with his name on her lips and God would have to kill him Himself to make him stop crawling back for more.

“You’re such a good boy,” she murmured, just the way she had last night, the way that broke him into a million fiery stars. “You’ll be good for me on the ship, too, won’t you? If I call you to my cabin? Sometimes when you’re being good at your job I just want to do the most terrible things to you.”

Nate laughed, a wheeze, and then couldn’t remember how to get the air back for a moment. “Love, you could rise to Heaven and I’d find a way to break in just to hear you say my name. You’ll never be rid of me.”

She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with equal parts salvation and doom. “I’ve heard of worse curses,” she said, her lips so close the words branded themselves into his skin. “And I don’t think you’ll need to worry about Heaven.”

He’d die for her. He’d kill for her. And now it seemed that the least likely of all was before him: he might get back on that ship tomorrow and live for her.

[sapphire-weapon]

real talk i’m actually terrified of how capcom is going to end the personal storylines for the legacy characters, because like

most media with a long-standing cast ends by pairing them up??? and GOD do i not want that.

like chris/jill is a given and that’s fine and absolutely no one would be shocked if they did that, and honestly they should’ve just pulled the trigger on it years ago, but like.

resident evil has switched hands through so many different dev teams over the years, and it feels like every single different team has had a different approach towards leon and ada, which is why their relationship is such a huge fucking mess, like.

i remember when degeneration was first coming out and people were bummed that leon was going to be in it but not ada, and the director’s response to fans re: ada was “she can’t be in everything.”

so then damnation and RE6 hit and they both went WAY WAY WAY OVER THE TOP with their relationship and then got HUGE backlash for what it did to leon’s character, so capcom just went back to fucking ignoring ada all together.

vendetta, infinite darkness, and death island just... straight up don’t even acknowledge her. she’s absent from them completely, the same way that she was in degeneration.

and then RE2make and RE4make happened, and the team working on those games completely reshaped what their relationship looked like and made it more realistic, which will make it much easier to write out a progression for it that makes sense

but because it’s realistic, it’s 100% incompatible with how OG canon has played out, so they can’t really use it as a baseline for ending their story officially in the OG timeline and like

god what a fucking mess. if they make leon/ada the endgame, people will be pissed. if they don’t make leon/ada the endgame, people will be pissed. there’s no winning. but this is a mess of their own making for tailoring their relationship solely around fan response from installment to installment, instead of just like. writing a fucking story. honestly they should just let leon die a hero’s death and be done with it. it’s what he really wants, anyway.

jk they’ll kill off ada long before they kill off leon because leon is the moneymaker they can keep in their back pocket for cameos.

and then what do you do with claire and rebecca? do you bring back billy at the zero hour so that rebecca can run away with him? and capcom can be like, hey late 40s rebecca, remember that guy whose dick you thought about sucking when you was 18? yeah he’s your endgame after 30 years of radio silence enjoooyyyyy!!!

DO YOU KNOW HOW PISSED I’D BE IF THE GUY WHOSE DICK I WANTED TO SUCK AT 18 JUST SHOWED BACK UP AND THE UNIVERSE DECIDED WE WERE GOING TO GET MARRIED well i guess it depends how well that dick has aged, i haven’t seen him since i was 20

and claire has never had a single prospective romance go well for her. so, again, they’d just have to introduce someone at the zero hour and go with it.

what they SHOULD do is just put claire and rebecca together, but they won’t.

but you know

i’m no cleon fan but

i would actually laugh REALLY FUCKING HARD if capcom went full scorched earth and killed off ada and then paired up leon and claire, because holy shit. holy shit that would take balls bigger than yoshinori kitase’s, and y’all saw what he did with FF7 remake and how huge his balls had to be to do that.

like, i’m not into the ship, but i would become into the ship if they did that.

and that’s not at all a slight against ada. i like ada. i like ada more than most people who hate aeon do. but i always respect any creator that commits to a massive subversive rug-pull that is guaranteed to piss off the vast majority of their fanbase just because it’s their story and they’re going to do what they want with it regardless of how it’ll be received. like. end of evangelion is among the highest art for me. i love that shit, man.

anyway.

tl;dr i don’t envy the position capcom is in, but at the same time, it’s their own fault for fucking around for so long without committing to any one single idea for three of the five of their main fucking characters.