#am i (at least for the moment) going to bask in the fact that it was probably done just because it was funny? yes

[daegall]

☆ drunk confessions.

➷ in which a drunk person's words is a sober person's thoughts.

pairing: (opla!)zoro x (implied fem!) reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, slight crack, mutual pining, friends to lovers!AU (ish..?)

warnings: lots and lots of alcohol, none after that but if you find one i can add lmk!! (+ lots and love of love for smiley zoro!!!!)

word count: 3.4k words (SHEESH)

a/n: requested by @acupnoodle !! tysm bae for the request, i hope you like it!!!! my inbox is now open for requests for opla (mostly zoro tbh LOL) if anyone would like to request ^^ (make sure its sfw as i am a minor!!!)

This is sick. This is just so sick.

Okay, maybe Zoro could be exaggerating. But what else is supposed to think, when you, the you who he has feelings for, is in the kitchen with Sanji, the annoying cook who he bickers with at least 5 times a day?

And especially since the day Sanji got him to blurt out about his feelings for you while he was drunk?

Zoro never thought he'd say it, but maybe he should lay low with the booze.

The swordsman can only grumble and huff as Luffy goes on and on about something—he hears something about Shanks. But all Zoro can do, is replay the memory of you sitting on the counter, right next to Sanji, who was peeling a few apples, and with a small frown on your face at that.

First, he thought maybe the cook had hurt you in any way. Then he realized it couldn't be, you'd be marching away from him. Then he assumed it could be you, with some personal trouble. But then you would always, without a fail, go to Zoro for help in that case.

Then, Zoro came to his final conclusion.

He had hurt you in some way.

But how could he? He'd never even consider the thought—he'd kill anyone who'd hurt you, because he cares—

No.

There's no way.

Sanji didn't tell you about his feelings... right?

Indeed he didn't. But Zoro doesn't know that.

What he also doesn't know, is the fact that you went to Sanji to talk about your best friend himself.

"He's been avoiding me," You mumble out weakly, picking at a few crumbs left on the counter. Gross, but hey, it's a pirate ship. There could be much worse things than a few specks of food. "I don't remember if I did anything wrong,"

Sanji knows you didn't. In fact, it was all his fault that Zoro was avoiding you. At the moment, having the usually stoic, cold swordsman admit his feelings for you with a dopey smile, the most loving tone as he describes every little thing about you, it seemed like the best thing on Earth. The man who everyone thought would never break, broke, all because of you.

But now, Sanji thinks it's stupid. He thinks it's stupid that Zoro's avoiding you because one person knew about his feelings. How cowardly could he be? But then again, he has absolutely no experience in relationships.

Sanji offers you an apple slice, his voice comforting and soft. "I don't think it's you," He smiles when you take the apple, taking a bite. "you could never wrong him."

"Then what is it?" Your voice is laced with such helplessness, a tone of worry and guilt buried underneath. It breaks Sanji's heart to see you like this. You play with the bracelet on your wrist, something Zoro had bought you when you were at a small town. You hadn't taken it off since, and it's been 3 months.

3 months marks your feelings for him as well.

"Why don't you ask him?"

At this question, your head whips to Sanji's direction, shaking instantly. "No! Hell no, it'd make him hate me even more!"

"Y/N..." Sanji's hands are suddenly on your shoulders, his eyes glistening with genuine care. It shocks you how serious he is about the whole situation. "he doesn't hate you. You might be the only one he genuinely feels safe with, you hear me?"

It's silent for a moment, as you bask in his words, the words in which hit you unexpectedly deeply. Yes, there have been times you've patched him up after a particularly harsh fight, yes, you both have shed tears together, and yes, he lets you touch his swords and lets you use—holy shit, Roronoa Zoro does care about you!

You decide to ask him, just as Sanji had suggested you do.

Zoro, on the other hand, has a different plan.

Despite the wallowing pit in his stomach, occupied by the green monster labeled as jealousy, Zoro knows you wouldn't go for Sanji. He's like an older brother to you.

But alas, he cannot control his emotions. And so, he's come up with possibly the worst plan ever.

Roronoa Zoro is going to flirt with you. The same way Sanji flirts with Nami.

It's stupid, he knows it's stupid, but Zoro is desperate. He's never felt this way towards anyone, ever, and his pride is way too big for him to ask advice from anyone on the crew.

"Zoro!"

Said man's heartrate doubles the moment he realizes it's your voice, your sweet, sweet voice calling out to him. Oh, how special he feels now, to have you by his side, to have you care for him and make him smile, how has he not realized how blessed he was just in your presence?

Okay, maybe Zoro was exaggerating.

He glances over his shoulder, attempting to act cool with a neutral face, as he murmurs. "What is it?"

As cold as ever, his gaze pierces yours. But... there's something different in it. It's colder.

Of course, this wasn't Zoro's intentions, clearly just trying to act cool and not confess his feelings for you right then and there, but the ice in his tone, his gaze, his aura, has your heart sinking.

Maybe he really did hate you now.

"Do you mind if we could talk?"

God, just the thought of having a chat with you has Zoro's heart soaring, his whole mind and being flooding with tenderness knowing that you'd always talk to him.

"What's up?" He sighs, fully turning around to you. His body language is the usual, calm and collected, the usual hand on his swords. Zoro is thankful you can't get a look inside, you'd be seeing a whole zoo and his running thoughts about how pretty you look today.

You step closer to Zoro.

"Did... did I do something wrong?"

This time, Zoro's heart twists in confusion.

Wrong? You? How could you ever think that?

"Because if I have, don't hesitate to tell me—"

"—your face."

What?

Holy shit, Zoro thinks you're ugly?

"...Is this your way of telling someone they're ugly?"

To be frank, you're kind of glad it's not about anything that you did, that would break you.

However, him directly telling you you're ugly? You never really cared if anyone called you ugly, but Roronoa Zoro? The only man you'd every trust? Your own crush?

Your heart twists in pain.

"No! No, that's not what I meant,"

Zoro's heartstrings tug at the sight of your pained face, the frown curling on your lips, he should never open his mouth ever again.

"I-I just meant that... you..."

He feels his cheeks warm up. Is he blushing?!

"you look really pretty today,"

Those were the very last words you would have expected coming out of Zoro's mouth.

A silence envelops the air. It's... awkward, to say the least, but a little endearing, with the both of you shyly looking away.

Zoro thinks you're pretty.

Absolutely stunning with your pursed lips trying to contain a smile, the glint in your eyes known as relief, and a little hint of mischief.

"Thanks," You mumble quietly, shrugging, though you're a far cry from casual.

Zoro mirrors you, leaning his hip onto the ship railing. "Don't mention it."

And you don't. Not for the next few hours, at least.

To say Zoro's plan of flirting with you failed, was quite the understatement. Sure, he finally got to say what he's been holding in for months, but he was expecting Sanji level flattery, the teasing smiles and confidence, not whatever the two of you went through.

Zoro feels like an idiot.

You, on the other hand, quite enjoyed it. it was genuine, and unlike Sanji's flirting, it's left you thinking about the moment for hours after it's passed. It seemed so genuine, carefully thought out (though it wasn't) and soft, something you didn't know Zoro could be.

You like Zoro's flirting much more than Sanji's. Though, that may be due to the fact that you have feelings for the swordsman.

The sun sets, leaving the pirate ship quiet (for once) and calm, just like the ocean, with it's soft waves and tranquil energy.

What isn't tranquil tonight, is you.

Instead of going to sleep, you've decided to have a drink. Yes, you may have stolen from Zoro's hidden stash in which he only showed you. Yes, you may have had more than one drink.

3, to be precise.

Why? Well, how are you supposed to go on the night? Simply thinking over and over about Zoro's words? His words that have left a permanent place in your heart? Your mind and soul?

How are you supposed to spend the night thinking about a man who you were sure hated you, who called you pretty and set your heart on fire, without a drink?

Besides, what's the worst that could happen?

Maybe the fact that Zoro wants a drink tonight as well.

Okay, yeah, he did say he was gonna lay low with the booze. But bad habits die hard. He's bound to drink a little here and there.

The moment he gets to the kitchen, Zoro is shocked at the sight of you, sitting on the counter, with a bottle of his beer in your hands. Your eyes are droopy, almost sleepy, a stupid lopsided smile spreading on your lips. The bottle has Zoro's name on it, written on the tape and pasted lousily over the brand name, and seeing you eye the writing and mumble his name has Zoro's heart pounding, filling with such unexpected fondness for you, ready to burst as such a volcano would.

"That's my booze,"

Your eyes blink tiredly, with no energy, as they trail to Zoro, and when you spot him, he can't believe the way your frown completely transforms into a bright grin.

"Zoro! Hey! Yeaahh, it has your name on it,"

He's shocked when you extend your hand with the bottle in it, shaking it side to side lightly. "Wanna sip?"

Your 'p' pops, and Zoro can't help but find it utterly endearing.

"Don't mind if I do," He murmurs with a small smile, wrapping his fingers around the bottle. He doesn't miss the way you maneuver your fingers to brush with his, catching your smile once they've made contact. His fingers are warm, and slightly rough.

Life of a swordsman, you suppose.

When he takes a sip of the bottle, you scooch over on the counter, tapping the space beside you. "Come join me!" Under the low light of the moon shining through the window, you look unexpectedly elegant, despite your tipsiness, the rays settling on your cheek just right.

Zoro complies, but simply leans against the counter. He takes another swig. "Any reason as to why you're here alone? Drinking my booze?"

"Been thinking," you say simply, reaching over to fiddle with a bandage on Zoro's forearm. The action is an abrupt source of serotonin to him.

His voice is laced with care and curiosity, as he asks you, "Thinking about what?"

"You,"

Oh how you never fail to get him shy. His eyes grow wide, but with the little alcohol in his system, he supposes it could work as liquid luck for tonight.

"Yeah? What about me?"

You chuckle, drunkenly, your eyes flitting from the bandage on his arm to his own eyes, no hints of hesitation or doubt. "How pretty you are,"

"You think I'm pretty?"

"Mhm," You nod. A hand is placed on your cheek, as you lean on it and continue to gaze at Zoro, almost dreamily. "your smile is pretty,"

At the mention of his smile, it appears almost instantly, and causes you to swoon even more, if it were possible. "You like my smile?"

You sigh, your own grin joining his. "Always,"

You decide to elaborate even more, deciding your sober self will have to deal with the embarrassment of rejection later.

"And you've got these freckles on your cheeks and nose, from all the hours in the sun, I always tell you to use sunscreen,"

It's true, you do.

Zoro only chuckles lightly, growing fonder and fonder of you every time you speak.

"and I love how ambitious you are to become the worlds greatest swordsman. You're always the best. To me, at least."

God, Zoro might kiss you right then and there.

"And you're so caring for everyone on the crew, don't deny it, I always see the way you do! Helping Usopp clean the ship and tie knots, listening to Luffy's nonsense rambling and storing all the maps for Nami, even for Sanji! Always buying the right ingredients for him," You breathe out a soft laugh. "and you care about me too. I think. I mean, you're always there when I have a problem personally or not, sometimes I think maybe... we could have some connection, you know? And other days... it seems like you despise me."

What?

How could you ever think he could despise you? Sure, there are some instances where you disagree with each other, but he does not hate you. He could never even think about it.

Before Zoro could comment on it, you carry on, voice growing louder and louder.

"Did I mention I love your smile?"

Zoro can't help but chuckle, reaching over to brush a few strands of your hair from your eyes. Wow, that took him more confidence than he thought.

"Yes, you have, Y/N."

"Oh... then let me mention it more," A sheepish smile grazes your lips, as you lean in close to observe his smile once you realize he is.

"And your lips. They're pretty too,"

Your eyes squint as you lean in closer, so close that your noses brush against one another. Zoro doesn't find the will in him to lean in, neither to pull back either. He simply sits there, his heart growing softer and softer when you purse your lips and tilt your head, shaking it.

"they look lonely," you state. "wanna meet mine?"

Oh, you're cute.

With the confident, almost cocky smile on your lips, eyes growing wider and wider as Zoro starts laughing.

Through your drunken eyes, seeing him smile is one thing. One thing enough to set you rambling and rambling about how much you enjoy it. Hearing him laugh? You could talk about it for hours, but you'd have too many things to say at once, you'd be left speechless. And that's exactly what happens at the moment, as you're left gaping at the sweet melody of his laughs, simply keeping your loving gaze on him.

"I'm not kidding, Zoro." You mumble. "I love you, I do."

For months, Roronoa Zoro has been so unsure about himself around you. Is he enough? Will he ever be enough? But now, hearing you state that you love him, he's sure. He loves you too, more than he could ever comprehend, and he won't doubt himself anymore.

He leans in, bumping your foreheads together clumsily. Though it hurts for a moment, it's fond, caring, as he smiles softly at your drunk state.

You could just be drunk right now.

None of this could be true.

Zoro doesn't care. If it's true or not, there has to be a reason you're telling him this. He'll ask you when you're sober.

Speaking of, "I won't kiss you," He says.

Your heart plummets to the ground, you can feel it deep in your chest, crashing through the base of the ship and sinking to the bottom of the sea, buried under such hurt hearing his words.

It lifts a moment later, however, as he places his lips on your cheek lovingly, a kiss to your forehead following.

"not when you're drunk. Don't wanna take advantage of you,"

"But you're not—"

"—I know, but it won't feel the same,"

Really, all Zoro wants to do, is place just one kiss on your lips, your lips that pout as you look up at him, hold you so closely to him, finally accept his feelings and make a move.

But, he'll wait for the morning. He'd wait forever just for you.

And as he leaves, warning you to stop drinking his booze, you're left... with a half heart. Half full with love, knowing Zoro could very much feel the same way for you, half empty, sad to have made so much effort (getting drunk should not be the way to confess to your crush) just for him to leave you hanging.

That's on you, you suppose.

He makes a very good point about the whole 'taking advantage' thing.

You guess you'll be too much of a coward when you wake up sober, too scared to fully confess, too scared to even look at him.

Zoro could not disagree more. He swears, the moment the sun has risen and you're awake, he's going to make you his. All his to hold, all his to take care of and protect, all his to love.

And as the day starts, both your minds are instantly flooded with thoughts of the other. The moment you see him, yawning as he listens to Luffy's rambling, your heart starts racing.

You don't remember that much from last night.

All you remember is the feeling of Zoro's warm lips on your skin, his caring gaze, and the ridiculous amount of alcohol you had drank. Sure, it was a far cry from how much Zoro would usually drink, but it's still a big amount to you.

Zoro has last night's events imprinted in his mind, every lingering glance he sends your way, every shy smile the two of you share, the way you scurry away quickly with an embarrassed scrunch of your nose, it takes him back to the night.

And finally, some alone time.

You find Zoro in the kitchen, checking on his booze stash, the one you had invaded the night before.

"Sorry about that, by the way," You call out, announcing your presence.

Zoro's heart soars just at the sound of your voice, small, almost guilty, and when he turns around, seeing you sit on the counter, just as you had last night, he can't stop the smile from tugging his lips upward. "It's no problem," He shrugs. "you'd never bother me,"

Roronoa Zoro, the lone wolf, the harsh swordsman saying that to you says a lot.

He approaches your figure slowly, growing more and more confident once he's realized that's exactly what you want. It's exactly what he wants too.

Finally, he's stopped right in front of you, your knees brushing slightly against his shirt. You look down at your hands placed on your laps, too shy to say anything, nor even look up at him.

"Hey," A sudden touch at your chin shocks you, and you eventually melt against his hold as he tilts your head up to meet his eyes. Like a magnet, you grow closer collectively, up until Zoro has both his hands sitting by your hips, your noses once again brushing.

This scene seems familiar.

You conclude it's what had been done last night, when he had kissed along the skin of your cheeks.

"I'm not drunk anymore," You whisper out.

Zoro chuckles, causing your entire being to wave with warmth of safety and comfort. "Yeah, I can see that."

"So you gonna give me that kiss or—"

Zoro's lips feel much warmer than you expected. They feel complete, pressed against your softly, almost hesitantly. The moment your fingers graze against his jaw, he relaxes, leaning in deeper to not only kiss your lips, but your entire soul, with love and solace, finally coming to terms with his feelings.

God, does Roronoa Zoro love you so much. He loves the way your hands creep up to mess up his (already disheveled) hair, the sigh you let out against his lips, the way you chase his lips once he's pulled away.

"What exactly did I say last night?" You mumble against his lips once he's pulled away, grabbing at his hand to play lightly with his fingers.

"Well, you mentioned how much you loved my smile," Zoro chuckles. There he goes once again, with his pretty smile and laugh, leaving you speechless and starstruck. "like, a lot."

"Did I mention that I love you?"

Zoro feels a warmth bubble from his stomach, feeling it envelop his chest, his arms and fingers when you finally intertwine your hands in a lock, his cheeks as they redden, and his lips as he finally gives you one last flash of the smile you claim to adore so much.

It's love.

"Yeah," He leans in to press your foreheads together. "I think I love you more,"

[wraithlafitte]

bitchin'

pairing: dean winchester x reader

CONTENT: violence (hunting), SMUT, only one bed~ enemies to lovers (kinda), unprotected p in v (encase before you embrace), hate sex, Dean calls reader "princess" mockingly, manhandling, slapping, spanking, big dick!Dean has all the audacity, dirty talk, degradation, choking, cum eating, brat taming, edging, overstimulation, squirting

word count: 4.7k

To say you were unhappy to be working with Dean Winchester would be putting it lightly. A massive understatement, in fact. But, as luck would have it, you needed backup on a vamp case; and when you called Bobby Singer for help, it turned out that Dean was the only hunter nearby.

Your jaw set uncomfortably as you dialed his number and held the phone to your ear. Asking for help from anyone was hard, but from this man? Practically your mortal enemy? A feeling of shame, or maybe embarrassment, crept into your stomach as you listened to the phone ring.

He's probably just watching it ring, you thought cynically. Who's to say he would pick up at all? Maybe he won't, you hoped.

There was a laundry list of reasons why Dean was the last person you'd want to work with on a case. He was reckless, had no respect for plans, and tended to go in guns blazing without regard for his own life, which meant that you would constantly be saving his ass. And boy, was he a pain in yours.

The cherry on top of the Dean Winchester disaster cake was that he hated your guts. You never really figured out why, but you assumed it was his misogynistic tendency to be completely contrary to any woman he met who didn't fall all over him. God forbid a woman doesn't care about his rugged good looks or roguish bravery!

When he finally picked up, you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, dripping with self-righteousness. "Well, well. What do you want?"

You decided it would be best to cut to the chase and just get it over with. "I'm working a case in Nevada," you said calmly. He would not get you riled up. "Vegas. There's a vamp nest, been snatching homeless people. Tunnel dwellers," you added. "Not that it matters. People are people, vamps are vamps."

"What are you tellin' me for?" Dean asked gruffly. He was gonna make you say it. Of fucking course he was, because he just had to hold it over your head.

"Need backup," you said curtly. "There's at least five of them."

"So what you're sayin' is...." The smugness in his voice was unmistakeable.

"I need your help, you dick."

"Oh do you now."

You huffed, already fed up with him. "Bobby says you're the only hunter he knows nearby. Said you're in Flagstaff."

"Maybe I am," he said vaguely. "Bobby should know not to tell you anything about where I am or recommend me as reinforcements for you."

"He didn't want to, but I made him. Are you coming or not?" you said sharply.

I'll be there by nightfall. Don't wait up," he said teasingly and hung up, leaving you to listen to the tone, steaming.

Why does he have to make everything so difficult?

Rough pounding on the door of your motel room startled you up from your chair at midnight. Dean wasn't even in the room yet, and he was already tormenting you. You went to the door and jerked it open, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could feel the headache coming on.

"Honey, I'm home," Dean said wickedly. He pushed past you into the room, dropping his duffel bags in the middle of the floor. He dropped into the chair you had just vacated and looked up at you with a shit-eating grin.

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," you warned him, eyes narrowing.

"Hey, I'm just excited to kill some vamps," he said, jabbing a finger towards you.

"Give it up. We both know you would rather be anywhere else."

"True," he conceded. "But let me just bask in the moment real quick."

You roll your eyes and return to your task, packing up your stuff. "Don't get too comfortable. We can't stay here. I was followed earlier."

"Perfect," Dean said sarcastically. "Of course you were."

You turn on him. "It can happen to anyone."

"Sure," he mocked. "So what's the plan, genius?"

Your face hardened. "We take the fight to them."

"Say no more."

The vampire's nest was in an abandoned warehouse (real original) that was a few streets away from one of the tunnels that the homeless had set up camp in. Chain link fence, corrugated metal, broken windows, the whole deal. And of course Dean wouldn't wait to make a game plan, sliding open a side door like nothing bad was waiting to jump him. In a vampire nest. At night.

All you could do was follow him, machete at the ready, and hope that the scuffing of his boots on the concrete floor wouldn't alert any vampires to your presence.

Dean ducked down, holding a fist in the air. You hurried behind him and crouched behind a shelf just in time to miss a patrolling vampire rounding the corner. Without missing a beat, Dean jumped out behind it and chopped it at the neck soundlessly. The body fell to the floor. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good.

You crept in the direction the fang had come from, Dean hot on your heels. He was so close you could hear his leather jacket creaking, smell his cologne, feel him practically breathing down your neck. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, then suddenly you hear voices. You stopped abruptly in your tracks, causing Dean to bump into you. You elbowed him and gave him a look.

Peeking around the doorframe, you saw what appeared to be the vamps' main hangout room. And there were a lot more than five of them, lounging around the walls, circling victims that were hung by their wrists from a beam.

"We can take them," Dean whispered in your ear.

You looked at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" you hissed back. You tried to count the dark shapes in the next room. "There's at least ten in there. There's only two of us."

"We can do it." Without waiting for a reply, Dean busted down the door and started swinging. You had no choice but to follow as the vampires started coming out of their startled stupor and attacking.

Dean cut down two of them easily, their heads rolling on the floor before they knew what hit them. The rest, however, had time to react.

One of the vampires rushed you, just managing to avoid your blade as you swung it. She snarled and leapt towards you. You slashed her across the chest and she howled, clutching her shirt. You took the opportunity and decapitated her.

Someone grabbed you from behind, claw-like nails scratching your neck as it was forced to the side, baring your skin. You stabbed behind you, blade finding purchase, and used the distraction to cut off the fang's head.

Another vamp rushed you from the front. You swung your blade out in defense, but he just grabbed it and ripped it from your hand. Then, as if they could smell your defenselessness, you were suddenly swarmed, vampires clawing at your skin, your clothes, pulling your hair. Several hard punches landed to your gut and your face and the wind was knocked out of you as you fell to the floor, smacking the side of your head into the concrete. You yelped in pain and shock.

A boot pressed into the side of your neck and your vision was suddenly obscured by a heavy-set vampire bearing down on you, grinning. "Not so tough now without your little sword," he sneered, fangs descending. His mouth was smeared with blood and you could smell the tang of iron on his breath. You struggled to breathe as the pressure on your neck increased, your vision getting spotty.

Great, this is how I die....

As if in the distance, you heard Dean shout. The looming face of the vamp was promptly detached from its body, hitting the floor by your head. His body fell on top of yours, his gross bloody neck stump right in your view. The boot left your neck and charged in the direction of Dean's voice.

You struggled to free yourself from beneath the former vamp, ears ringing from your near-suffocation. You could hear the ensuing scuffle, all grunts and wet slices and heavy footfalls, but you had no idea who was winning.

Then, it was silent.

You held your breath instinctively, listening to a lone pair of footsteps approaching you. You found yourself realizing for the first time that you hoped Dean was coming. Better than the alternative.

Sure enough, Dean's hunt-beaten face appeared above you, screwed up with effort as he pushed the large vamp's body off of you. You sat up quickly, surveying the carnage, slapping away the extended helping hand. The shock of your near death experience wore off quickly, but the adrenaline from the fight did not, so your energy turned towards Dean.

"What the fuck, Dean?" you yelled, rising to your feet, wincing from the pain in your sides.

"What do you mean what the fuck?" he returned angrily. "I just saved your goddamn life!"

"After you endangered it!" you shoved him, scowling furiously. "Ten to two are not good odds! We could have fucking died! I almost did!"

"Hazards of the job, sweetheart!"

"There's hazards, and then there's suicide," you replied, fuming.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't have to thank me."

"I won't." You shoved him out of your way and made for the door. "Don't you ever fucking do that again."

"Not so fast, princess," Dean called after you. "Hunt's not over."

You froze in your tracks. "What."

"I didn't get all of 'em." You whirled around to face Dean, who was looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

Your voice was dangerously quiet. "What do you mean you didn't get all of them?"

He made an attempt at a self-confident grin. "They saw me ganking their buddies like nobody's business, turned tail and ran. I was more concerned about saving your life than to chase."

You smirked tauntingly. "Oh, you cared about my life?"

Dean just shrugged. "Couldn't just leave you there."

"Whatever." You started walking to the entrance again. "Since you let some get away, I say we get a night's sleep. They'll probably be expecting us to come after them, so they won't hunt again tonight. We can pick up the trail in the morning."

"What do you mean you only have one room left?" Dean asked angrily, slamming his hands down on the motel counter.

The clerk looked at him blankly. "Just what I said."

You were at the cheapest motel you could find in the city that was built on tourism. You and Dean were both short on cash, so it seemed like the best option. It was this or take shelter with the junkies in the tunnels.

"I'm not spending the night in the same room as her!"

You hit his shoulder. "Hey!"

"Like you don't feel the same," Dean said exasperatedly, digging out his wallet. "Next cheapest is still too expensive. I'm basically broke," he whined, rifling through his meager collection of bills.

"What happened to all your credit cards, Mr. Fraud?" you sneered.

Dean glared at you. You glared back. After a few moments, the clerk cleared his throat.

"So, do you want the room or not?"

You dropped your bags just inside the door of the room. "You're fucking kidding me."

Dean pushed past you. "What- oh. Oh my goddd." He ran his hand down his face tiredly.

Staring you in the face was the decidedly lumpy surface of a double bed. One. That fucking clerk could've warned you.

You and Dean slowly looked at each other, then you made a mad dash to claim the bed, shoving each other out of the way, kicking, tackling, until you both lay tangled on the floor, still not in the bed. You had his arm pinned behind his back, but he was pinning you to the floor with his weight.

You jerked on his arm, panting, and he grunted painfully, digging his knee into your side.

"Say.. uncle," you gritted out.

"You first!" Dean rasped.

"No!"

You laid there for a few more seconds, then, almost as if it was painful, Dean asked, "Should we- call it a draw?"

You rolled your eyes and released him. He rolled off of you, getting to his feet. He didn't help you up, of course.

"I'm not sleeping on the floor," he said spitefully.

"Well, neither am I." Your eyes narrowed.

You laid on the bed stiffly, positioned all the way at the edge of the mattress, as far away from Dean as possible. He was doing the same, and the blanket was pulled taut between you as you wordlessly battled over it.

You were steaming. You should have known that everything would go to shit if you called on him. He completely ruined what should have been a one-hour job, endangering your life and letting a few vamps go. He did, technically, save your life though. You were grateful, but you wouldn't tell him that in a million years.

Adrenaline from the hunt and your constant fighting with Dean coursed through your veins, keeping every sense on high alert. Every tug of the sheets from Dean lit a fire under your skin. His weight behind you on the bed filled you with a painful awareness of how touch-starved you truly were. As much as you tried to suppress it, tension began building in your core.

You shifted uncomfortably, squeezing your thighs together. "Ugh," you let out before you could stop yourself.

"Shut up," Dean grumbled through the darkness.

The sound of his voice, rough with tiredness, intensified how extremely horny you felt. You felt your underwear getting damp in spite of your hate for the man.

"God dammit," you said frustratedly, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

"What?" Dean said, throwing the covers back and sitting up too. "Why can't you just let me fucking sleep?"

"Nothing," you snapped, taking a swig from your water bottle. Hydrating would calm you down, surely.

"Yeah, right," he snapped back. "What the fuck is wrong?"

"I'm really fucking horny, Christ!" you blurt, whirling on him.

"If I fuck you, will you stop bitchin'?" Dean demanded, fire and a deadly seriousness in his eyes.

You opened and closed your mouth, stunned.

He just smirked at you. "Is that what it takes to shut you up?"

You stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"You want me so bad, huh." He moved across the bed and settled right behind you, his face in your neck, inches away from your own.

"Shut up," you say, flustered, still trying to keep some semblance of control. But you couldn't deny the arousal pooling in your gut.

"Say the word," Dean said smoothly, breath fanning over your exposed shoulder.

"Fuck," you whispered, cursing what you're about to do. You turned your head and smashed your lips to his.

Dean responded immediately, pulling you backwards and into his lap. He bit at your lips, forcing his tongue inside your mouth. You made an indignant sound, battling him for dominance, teeth clashing in a messy display of pure desire.

Your lips only parted to rip off each other's shirts. You dug your fingernails into Dean's bare shoulders as hard as you could, trying to elicit some kind of reaction from him, which came in the form of a deep groan into your mouth. He broke away, panting, and flung you onto your back on the mattress.

Leering down at you, he placed himself between your legs. "That's how you wanna play, huh princess?"

He yanked your leg up by the knee and slapped the back of your thigh. An involuntary moan escaped your mouth, and Dean chuckled darkly. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

"Just shut up and fuck me," you whined, hitting his side with your foot.

"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Bad girls don't get what they want."

You sat up and came nose to nose with him. "If you think for one second that I am going to sit here and play submissive for you-"

Dean laced his fingers through the back of your hair and sharply tugged your head back. You moaned in response. A smile slowly grew over his face and he let go abruptly and shoved you back down. Your back barely hit the mattress before he was yanking off your sleep shorts and underwear in one go, tossing them to the far reaches of the room. You gasped as the cool air from the room hit your core, driving home the fact that you were now completely exposed to him.

"Aw, already so wet for me," Dean jeered, running a finger up your slit roughly. You flinched away from the sudden contact, heat spreading to your face.

"Don't flatter yourself," you gasped as he shoved a finger inside you, curling it vigorously, relishing the wet sounds your pussy produced.

Dean palmed himself through his pajama pants, groaning. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, he added a second finger inside you, scissoring you open. At least he has the decency to prepare me, you thought.

He yanked his fingers out of you, giving your pussy a quick slap, and you whined at the sudden empty feeling.

"Don't whine," Dean said roughly, getting off the bed and kicking off his pants and boxers. You looked down, unable to help yourself.

You saw where he got all his confidence from. He was big. You practically quivered with anticipation. You loved a good stretch, and you liked it rough, and this was about to be both.

"Like what you see?" Dean mocked, shaking his cock.

"Looks like maybe your confidence isn't completely unwarranted," you admitted dryly. You could feel your combative spirit giving way to lust, but you weren't giving up that easily.

He winked, grabbed your ankles and jerked you to the edge of the bed, your thighs around his waist, your hair fanned out on the blanket behind your head. Dean took hold of your calves and pressed your knees up by your face, leaning over you and pinning you down with his weight again. Only this time, it was way hotter.

"Gonna be good for me?" he asked, voice dripping with mock sweetness.

"In your fucking dreams," you spat.

In one fluid motion, he backed off of you, grabbed you by the waist, and spun you onto your stomach. You squeaked as a heavy hand landed on your ass, much harder than he hit before.

You used your feet, barely touching the floor, to push yourself back towards him, hoping he would get the point and just fuck you already without you having to ask him again.

"So fucking needy," he murmured in your ear. "Use your words, princess."

"Fuck you," you moaned, feeling his cock jerk against your leg.

"Mmm, that's not right," Dean warned, fingers digging into your hips.

You grit your teeth. "Fuck me."

Dean splayed his fingers over your ass cheeks, spreading you open for him, and thrust into you roughly, filling you in one go.

You gasped, feeling his cock throb inside you as your pussy complained against the intrusion and desperately tried to adjust to his size. He groaned as you clenched around him, pulling out slowly and slamming back in.

"Dean," you gasped out. "Don't be such a fucking tease."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want, princess," Dean growled, his thrusts becoming faster. "You asked for this."

"Technically- you offered," you corrected, eyes screwing shut at the pleasure building inside you with each thrust.

"God, shut- up," Dean griped, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that hit just right, eliciting an embarrassingly loud moan from you.

He just grunted, hips colliding against you, now just chasing his own high. You pressed your face into the bed, clutching the blanket with both fists, fortifying yourself against Dean's relentless pace. His fingers pressed deeply into your hips, carving out a place for him, letting you know you wouldn't be coming away from this encounter unbruised.

"God, you're so fucking tight," Dean rasped, slapping your ass. You moaned in response, unable to think of a witty retort. "Bet it's been a long time since you were fucked, huh?"

When you didn't reply, he slapped your ass again, on the other side, sending fireworks through your core.

"Bet that's why you're so desperate for me," he groaned. "Haven't gotten laid in a while. Bet that's why you're such a bitch, too," he added snarkily.

"Oh, fuck off," you mumbled into the mattress.

Dean pulled out, much to your chagrin, turning you onto your back again. "If you want," he said, eyes glimmering with mischief.

You pouted and whined, hooking your feet around his waist and trying to pull him back. You were rewarded with a sharp slap to your pussy. You cried out from the stimulation.

"Don't whine," he growled, pushing into you again on the last word.

"Sorry," you whispered in spite of yourself, gripping onto his arms as he cages you in with his body.

"What was that?" Dean said, grinning wickedly and thrusting into you sharply.

"Fuck-" you moaned instead, refusing to cooperate.

He wraps his hand around your throat loosely, putting slight pressure just under your jaw. Your eyes widened as he slowly increased the pressure, jeering down at you, still slamming into you at an incredible pace. Your body started to become overwhelmed with all the sensory input and your core tightened.

You knew Dean felt it, because he grimaced. "Gonna come, you little slut?" he taunted, reaching down with his free hand to rub harshly at your clit. A low whine released from the back of your throat.

His grip tightened around your neck to see your reaction. You gasped, straining to get a full breath in, your pussy clenching hard around his cock.

"Such a fucking slut that you're gonna come from being choked out," Dean said through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

"Fuck- Dean," you choked out, both hands wrapped around his wrist. He eased up on the pressure some (he didn't want to kill you) and your hands moved desperately up his arm, gripping him tightly.

Dean was getting close, you could tell, but the question remained: would he come before you? And if he did, would he still take care of you? Somehow you doubted it. The self-absorbed jackass was probably going to cum inside you and fall asleep, like almost every other man you'd slept with.

Suddenly Dean lurched forward, shoving his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, breathing heavily in your ear. You clenched in surprise (and also because a man getting desperate was one of the hottest things on the planet).

Dean groaned deeply in response and bit down on your shoulder, hard. You cried out, half from pain and half from the surprising pleasure it sent roaring through you, causing your cunt to squeeze down on him tightly. He practically whimpered, detaching from your skin and pulling out, pumping himself a few times before spilling onto your stomach with a moan.

He looked down at the mess he'd made of you, dragging his fingers through his cum. Then he brought those fingers up to your mouth and pressed them against your lips. "Open."

You scowled at him, once again determined to be contrary.

Dean glared back. "Open, or you don't get to come," he said harshly, forcing his fingers between your lips and teeth.

So he was planning to take care of you. Your neediness returned in full force, and you opened your mouth to allow him to shove his fingers deep into your mouth. You gagged as his fingertips hit the back of your throat, the taste of his cum filling your mouth. He pressed down on your tongue and you dutifully sucked on his fingers as he smirked down at the sight.

"Good little slut," Dean said nastily, obviously feeling proud of himself. He started to pull his fingers out and you closed your teeth, scraping his skin as he did. He slapped your cheek lazily once his hand was free. "Swallow it."

You glared, but did as you were told, sticking out your tongue to prove it.

Dean grinned. "Ready for your reward, princess?"

You moaned needily, throwing your head back and bucking your hips up towards him.

"Such a fucking whore," he chastised, bringing his hand to your clit and stroking around it lazily. A pang of arousal shot through you as you quickly approached the edge again. All thoughts of defiance went out the window as you grinded against his hand.

"Please," you whimpered, squirming under his touch.

"Since you asked so nicely," Dean mocked. He stuffed your pussy with three fingers at once, thrusting and curling them inside you. "Fuckin' dripping, princess."

He brought his other hand to your clit, thumbing it in figure eights in time with his fingers. You gasped as your core tightened. His fingers were bringing you so close to the brink and just keeping you there, never increasing the pressure just enough to push you over.

"Fuuuck," you moaned, panting. "Please, Dean! I need- I need-"

"You need what?" he teased. He twisted his fingers up to your g-spot, simultaneously ceasing his movements on your clit to press down on it hard.

"Oh, God!" you cried out, almost hyperventilating. The feeling of your orgasm building up was almost too much to bear. A dry sob wracked your body.

Dean nipped at your chest, gazing up at your contorted face with eyes so innocent looking you could've sworn, for a moment, that this was not a man you hated with your entire being, who was not currently doing the most sinful things to you with his hands.

You whimpered pathetically. "Please," you said in a small voice. "I need to come so bad." Your face flushed with shame as you finally admit what he's done to you, both with your words and body.

"All you had to do was ask," Dean said, sickly sweet. His hands sparked into motion again, redoubling their efforts. You let out a strangled scream as you were brought right back to the precipice, only this time, surely, he's going to let you?

It was like a pot boiling over, overwhelming heat spreading from your core out through your stomach, making your legs shake and your abs tighten. You made another strangled, desperate noise as you grinded down on his hand.

"That's it, princess, fuck yourself on my fingers," Dean goaded.

You struggled to catch your breath, eyes wide. Your face was hot and wet, and you realized numbly that tears were streaming down your face, running into your hair. He started to take his hands away, but your hands chased them, seizing them and bringing them back to your core.

Dean seemed surprised, but more than willing to fuck you past the point of no return. "Fuck, you just can't get enough, huh," he said, sounding mildly impressed. Your body shook as he all but stilled his fingers inside you, just rubbing your clit slowly until it became too much to bear and you pushed him off.

You laid there panting quietly, your body shivering from the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms you'd had in a while. For once, it seemed like Dean didn't know what to say.

You closed your eyes for a moment, then suddenly felt his hand on your clit again, rubbing vigorously. Your eyes flew open and you looked down to see Dean's face set in determination. You clutched at his wrist, trying weakly to get him away, knees trying to close around him, but it didn't take long for you to cum again with a shriek, heels digging into the mattress to push yourself away. Your cunt pulsed around nothing, and you felt a gush of arousal leave you. Dean looked delighted.

"I fucking knew it," he said triumphantly, holding up his hand to survey the mess.

"What?" you asked feebly as another shiver ran through your body.

"Knew you'd be so touch-starved I could get you to squirt," Dean explained smugly. He licked some of your arousal off his hand.

You threw your head back onto the bed exasperatedly. "God, I hate you."

"Could've fooled me," he returned, displaying his hand to you and smirking.

dividers once again by @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ｗａｎｎａ ｂｅ ｙｏｕｒｓ♡

♡ Pairing: bouncer!bang chan x stripper!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: You've had your eye on a bouncer who works at your club for the longest time. Tonight may just be the night that you get your chance with him

♡ Genre: smut/angst-ish

♡ Word Count: 1.5kish

♡ Warnings: light violence during fight scene, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, dick riding (in the fun sense)

If years of being a dancer have taught you anything it’s how to pretend to give a shit when you’d much rather be at home vegetating. It’s not that you hate your job. You simply aren’t always in the mood to socialize. But the club’s packed tonight and bills need to be paid.

At least the customers are generous, the music’s tolerable, and your best friend’s scheduled to work with you. Spinning around on the pole, you spot her over by the bar lighting a sparkler inside a bottle of champagne. She waves to you, blowing you a kiss. You blow one right back at her.

A sweet moment's swiftly interrupted by the thud of a body crashing onto your platform. With the music blaring overhead, you hadn’t noticed the fight breaking out behind you between bouncers and a few frat boys who’ve clearly had one too many vodka shots. The frat boy laid out at your feet has blood gushing from his nose, ruining his shirt and risking the safety of your brand new stilettos.

He sees the bouncer responsible for his broken nose headed in his direction and so do you. Both of your heart rates increase for opposing reasons. His because, despite his blurred vision, he’s ready to go another round. Yours because the bouncer in question is Bang Chan or Channie as he lets you call him.

You’ve had an embarrassingly heavy crush on the platinum blonde haired Aussie since your first night working here. Somehow you’ve managed to remain oblivious to the fact that the feeling’s mutual. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of the frat boy sneaking a knife from his pocket.

You stomp down on his wrist, applying your full weight, and you feel something crunch beneath your heel. He cries out in pain, the knife falling to the floor. Now his nose isn’t the only thing that’s broken.  Chan grabs him by the shirt, tossing him into the arms of two other bouncers waiting nearby.

You’ve never seen him this angry before but his rage is fleeting when he rises from retrieving the knife and lays eyes on you. He smiles up at you, basking in your beauty like you’re one of those goddess statues in a museum. Masterfully carved in marble and perfect in every sense of the word.

“My hero” he gasps, hand over his heart. You roll your eyes, “Dramatic much?” Chan takes your manicured hand, kissing it so gently that it sends a chill through your body. “Thank you. I mean it. I owe you one.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand, your gazes lingering on each other as the rest of the world fades away.

It returns with a roar as the fight erupts again. “I, uh…” he stutters, torn between the longing to stay with you and his obligation to fulfill his duties. “Go. Do your job. No slacking” you tease, shooing him away. Chan blushes, grateful that the darkness of the club conceals it, and disappears into the crowd.

Being the professional that you are, you immediately go back to dancing. Your mind’s even farther gone than before, floating somewhere in the clouds treasuring the tingle left behind by his kiss like it’s gold. 

“Absolutely not” you sing, slamming the door to your locker. In the dressing room girls crowd around a half dozen vanities, dashing between clothing racks, hurrying to put the finishing touches on their looks before they’re called to the floor. You, on the other hand, have already changed into a hoodie and a cozy pair of sweats.

The night’s over for you. At least it was before your best friend cornered you, begging to borrow your car. “Oh, come on. Please, please, please” she pouts, “It’s only until tomorrow and I’ll give it right back.” “And how exactly am I supposed to get home?” The grin that spreads across her glitter speckled face is adorable and concerning all at once.

Throwing her coat on, she takes your hand and drags you through one of the side doors where Chan leans against his car waiting for you. With the sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled up and a few buttons undone, you get a peek at the tattoos covering his muscular form. Whatever workout this man does has done sinfully good things to his body. 

Your best friend plucks the car keys from your hand, nudging you forward, “You look out for my girl, Bang Chan!” “I’ll take good care of her” he promises, opening the door for you. There’s something sensual about the way he says that. “I’ll take good care of her.” You throw the bag on your shoulder into the backseat, hesitating to get in yourself.

“You really don’t have to do this.” “I owe you, remember?” Unable to argue with him, you hop in and put your seatbelt on.  As sexy as he looks walking around to the driver’s side, you wouldn’t object to being taken care of by him.

You pinch yourself on the arm, shaking off the thought of anything happening between the two of you. He probably doesn’t want it to. Even if he did, you work together. Something like that would never happen. It can’t...

An hour’s passed and you’re thrown across your bed, knees pressed to your chest, breathing like a pregnant woman in a Lamaze class. You have no clue where your clothes went but honestly, who the hell cares? Chan’s face is buried between your legs, slurping at your pussy like it’s the only thing he’s eaten in 48 hours.

Though that may not technically be true, you definitely taste better than any meal he’s had in recent memory. Your bed’s soaked from how wet you are, a year’s worth of anticipation dripping from his chin. He sucks your clit between his lips, circling it with his tongue and pulling away.

He repeats this over and over again, edging you to the point that you’re a trembling, overstimulated wreck. “Channie…” you whine, your eyes falling close as your nails dig into the sheets below. Chan grabs onto your lush hips, lifting you away from him, “Keep them open.

I wanna see those pretty eyes when I make you cum.” You pry them open and catch him staring up at you with nearly the same look he had at the club. Only now there’s an insatiable hunger behind those eyes. Grinding you down against his face, his tongue plunges into the depths of your warmth.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” is all you can say when he has you coming apart at the seams. “Mmm” he hums, sensing how close you are by the way your walls clench around his tongue. He flexes it along your g-spot and you’re cumming harder than you ever have. Your body’s twisting, pitiful moans fill the air, fingers grasping at his hair.

This must be what it feels like to have a demon exorcized or to be possessed by one. Either way, there’s nothing in this world like it. Even as your body goes limp, your mind going cloudy, Chan’s still kitten licking your slit to gather every drop of your juices. When he finally stops, he straightens your legs out, massaging them as he trails wet kisses up your stomach.

He takes the hand previously responsible for breaking someone’s nose and delicately toys with your nipples. They perk up for him, making each graze of his fingertip twice as intense. He drags his tongue over your bud. Up your chest. Along your chin. You open your mouth to catch your breath and he’s pulling you into a decadent kiss, laced with the sweetness of your arousal. 

“I knew you’d taste amazing but that was…” he groans, using two fingers to stroke between your folds, “I could stay between those thighs all night.” “You’ll have to come up for air at some point” you tease. Chan wraps his arms around your waist, hooking an arm behind your knee, “Breathing is overrated.”

In one fluid motion, he’s rolled you over on top of him, his thick cock resting against your twitching clit. Your legs are as structurally solid as jello but you manage to prop yourself up on them, fingers running along his length. “Is this all cause of lil old me?” you ask, dipping your thumb in the precum leaking from his tip and licking it off. 

Chan cups your cheek into his palm and you nuzzle it, kissing his palm. “Can I keep you?” You giggle at the question, raising your hips and sinking down onto him. “You can'' you moan, rotating your hips in graceful figure eights that have him ready to implode. A mixture of pleasure and panic floods his system.

It’d be embarrassing to cum this quickly but you’re making it impossible. It takes everything he has to hold back watching you have this much fun using his dick to make yourself feel good. 

Chan gets it, how men can throw everything in their pockets at you when you’re on stage. He’d empty every bank account in his name to have you sit on his face. Just sit there. Not even move.

[momobani]

Like Tonight’s Your Birthday | Nicholas | 1.6k

warnings: smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), afab reader, semi-public sex (at the beach), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be safe! this is fiction), established relationship

Title reference to Birthday by TEN (aka the birthday sex song of our generation lmao)

a/n: surprise! Another nicho fic cuz this boy is running circles in my brain and it’s his birthday today, happy sunday y’all, join me in my madness <3

“Where are you taking me?” Nicholas whines in your passenger seat. “C’mon, at least give me a hint.” He begs.

“Nope, it’s a surprise.” You insist. “You’ll love it.”

“You’re lucky I trust you this much. I’m practically being kidnapped.” He huffs, crossing his arms. You crack a smile.

“Oh calm down, you dramatic bean. It’s somewhere we’ve been before.” You reassure. You were almost there in fact. “Close your eyes.”

“Fine.” You can hear the pout in his voice but he complies.

You park the car and rush to the passenger side to open the door before he trips over his own feet. The night breeze is cool as you guide Nicholas a few steps forward. You were sure he could tell by his surroundings, the sound, the smell, where you were.

“Okay, open your eyes.” You say. Nicholas blinks slowly and looks around.

“The beach?” He asks, as if it wasn’t obvious from the view and the crashing of the waves some distance away.

“Yeah, I thought we could have a date.” You say. You’d already had dinner but that had been only part one of your plans for Nicho’s birthday. “Do you like it?”

“I love it! Let’s go.” He grins, taking your hand.

You stop him so you can get a towel out of the car, just in case you wanted to sit down. You definitely didn’t want sand everywhere. You kick off your shoes and step into the cool sand, hand in hand.

It’s a warm night, the moon out in its gibbous state, shining in the darkness. You walk for a while, dipping your feet along the shore and yelping at how cool the water was during the night and laughing as you ran away from the oncoming waves.

You settled on your towel after a while, just looking up at the sky, huddled together under the stars.

“This is a great end to a great day.” Nicholas says after a while. He turns to you, a sweet smile playing across his lips. “Thank you.” He says and brings you in for a kiss.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” You reply, smiling back. You kiss him again, but linger, your mouth growing far too attached to his.

You kiss gently at first, basking in the romanticness of the moment but you can’t deny how the hunger begins to gnaw at your core. Your hands get busy, playing with the hair at the back of Nicholas’ head, travelling to the hem of his shirt and pulling.

Nicholas helps you out, whipping the item off and barely taking a breath before his lips are attached to yours again. Your tongue is down his throat, his hands caressing your thighs and ass, looking for a way to slide your shorts off. You lift your hips, assisting in the quest, all without breaking your intense kiss.

Making out had only been half on your mind when you’d sat down, but now you were here, you found yourselves wanting to go beyond that. The ache in your pussy was overpowering your judgment of the situation. Suddenly the sand didn’t bother you all that much.  

“Are you sure you want to do this here?” You asked, panting but barely pulling away an inch while your hands were busy trying to get your shorts down your legs.

“I am if you are.” Nicholas replies, equally as breathless, discarding the item to join his shirt.

“I definitely am.” You say, catching your breath, but it doesn’t last long before Nicholas is on you again, tongue in your mouth.

You make a move, trying to get onto his lap and even before you straddle him, you can feel the hard outline of his cock against his jeans. There’s a momentary fumble with his jean buttons and zipper but you manage to get it open and your hand goes straight to tease him over his boxers.

It makes Nicholas sigh against your mouth and you take the opportunity to kiss down his cheek and jawline, to his neck, nipping slightly at the soft skin there but not enough to leave a mark. He closes his eyes, savouring the waves of pleasure that run through his veins as you work his cock out of his underwear and start to pump his shaft, spreading the precum that had collected over the head of his cock.

A low groan escapes Nicholas’ lips and the sound zaps straight to your core, reminding you that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you and you should do something about it. So you let go of his cock and shuffle closer to Nicholas, reaching to pull your panties to the side. He helps you balance by holding your hips but you don’t attempt to do anything, instead opting to grind down on his shaft, teasing him (and yourself) some more.

“Fuck, baby, I don’t know if I can last when you keep doing that.” Nicholas warns you, voice gruff and chest rising and falling rapidly as he catches your eye. You give him a breathless smile, smirking because you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Well, you have a mouth, honey, tell me what you want.” You hum, feeling particularly smug when you saw the fucked out look on his face. His lips were parted and swollen, and his eyes glazed over.

“I want you to hurry up and let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours, or I’ll make you regret ever teasing me, sweetheart.” He replies, somehow sounding sober unlike two seconds ago.

You slide across his cock one last time before reaching down and trying to line yourself up with him. “You got it.” You whisper before burying his head between your folds. There’s instant relief in being filled though slowly as you sink down onto his cock. Nicholas hums in approval when he’s sheathed fully inside you, whereas you feel too full to even speak.

It takes you a moment to adjust before you start to grind your hips down again, your legs starting to burn immediately but the pleasure overrides your screaming muscles. That and the way that Nicholas looks at you - as if he wants to devour you whole - only spurs you on to move your hips in a steady rhythm.

“That’s it, just like that, baby. You’re doing so well for me.” He praises in a quiet voice. “Fuck yourself on my cock.”

You can only just groan in response, far too preoccupied to string together any coherent sentences.

Nicholas holds your hips, squeezing lightly while helping you balance. His teeth graze your neck and you can’t help the way your head falls back, exposing your neck further. He knows exactly which spots to pay special attention to and he has you moaning, your voice lost in the wind as the waves crash down on the shore, far away from you.

Your pace slows significantly, your body finally running out of juice and Nicholas senses your fatigue, deciding to take matters into his own hands. Suddenly, you’re being pressed against his bare chest and you instinctively curl your arms around his frame as he holds you close and starts to snap his hips up and fucking into you.

You yelp slightly in surprise when he starts a punishing rhythm to make up for your slack and you hold on to him tightly, letting your whines and whimpers fall right to his ears. The pleasure shooting through you starts to fog your brain and your eyes snap shut, savouring every single thrust while you grip onto Nicholas.

There’s no mistake about how incredibly close you are, your walls starting to tighten over his cock but he doesn’t let up the pace.

“Nicho!” You moan, as if that would be warning enough. He seems to understand and uncurls one arm from around your frame and reaches between your bodies, barely millimetres between you. You feel his fingers trace gently at first over your underwear, trying to tease your clit before starting to really circle them over the fabric.

That really is the cherry on top and you feel your body finally reach its peak, your orgasm hitting you full force, crashing down on you like a wave. You almost scream in pleasure, your voice barely coming out of your throat while your cunt goes into overdrive. Nicholas slows down thankfully, still fucking into you but more gently, chasing his own high while your walls contract around him deliciously.

You hum contently as the waves of pleasure diminish to light ripples before you’re being pulled back into a harder pace again by Nicholas.

“Cum for me, birthday boy.” You coax him gently, running a hand through his hair, pulling on the strands at the back of his head slightly. You put your mouth to his ear again. “Fill me up, baby, I want your cum.” You beg, knowing that it would absolutely obliterate any sane thought left in your boyfriend’s head.

Sure enough, your encouragement got through to him and he groans loudly, face buried in your neck so you feel the vibration, as his cock twitches inside you, filling you up as you wished. If it’s possible you feel even fuller in your guts, overwhelmed by how deep inside you he was.

You take a moment to recover, the both of you panting under the moonlight and coming down together. You rest your forehead against Nicholas’, breathing in each other’s breaths, a smile pulling at your lips.

“Happy birthday.” You mumble. Nicholas presses a firm kiss to your mouth and you know exactly what he’s thinking.

“Thank you.” He whispers back. He kisses you again, lingers for a moment. “I love you.”

You could never get tired of hearing that. “I love you too, honey.” Or saying it.    

*

a/n: thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated <3 (read: scream with me into the void). tbh this was unplanned, spur of the moment, got possessed by something and had to write it down thing. anyways, i’m going to sleep, happy nicho day :D 

*copyright 2021- © momobani 

momobani masterlist

[littlee-sparkle]

First meeting with Amala through Amrit's eyes:

"Since childhood, I have heard so many conversations about her. About the ideal bride who was suitable only for me. About the one who was born just to rule next to me. I have never met in full at least powerful women who would stand on the same level with the Doobays. There is a lot of talk about Basus, but I have never seen them. I didn’t have time. The heirs fled and killed everyone else...

Vimal, my uncle, was a lover of his wife. But this was not for me. I don’t want a liar. I don’t want a beautiful doll that will only raise my children and obediently remain silent next to me. I need equal. I need Basu. Of which there aren't more on our land. What is she like, my betrothed? Is she willful, as they say about Basu? Is she as beautiful as they are described in the book in the family library? Is she looking forward to meeting me as much as I am looking forward to her? Or did Basu not only betray us by running away, but also keep silent about one of the most important prophecies? I wanted to find her a gift for the first meeting, although Rishi said that they don’t do that anymore. When did male generosity stop being the norm? It is true that there is nothing sacred left in Kali Yuga.

I don’t like women lower than me. I just can’t perceive them as equal partners. They look at me with that sticky dreamy or infatuated look, which only causes disgust in me. It's all about the strict hierarchy that forced them to obey me, and the same gave rise to reverence for the great name of the Doobays. Someone “I enjoyed it, basking in the attention."

When the avatar of order announced that he had found her, the peace came to an end. All I could do was wait and imagine our first meeting. It seemed that I had become accustomed to the fact that I would not find the wife I needed, and was almost ready to settle for less. But the thought that my betrothed would soon be near me erased any doubts into dust. I didn't wait in vain. I don't need anyone else. A dozen tried to persuade me not to look for her first, Vaish promised to bring the girl to the temple so that we could meet. And I had to agree. Standing in one of the shops and looking for a gift for my future wife, I suddenly felt a strange turmoil in my chest. Something was aching inside, pulling out. I began to think through possible causes in my head. Forgot something? Or maybe I had an argument with someone in the morning and a nasty aftertaste overtook me? I went outside and felt better. But a strange tangle of feelings that was gripping me more and more, pulled me further. And when it suddenly reached its peak, it was as if an electric discharge struck me. I was literally disoriented... and at that moment I ran into her. When we touched each other, we both experienced something similar to the same reverence with which the dozen girls looked at me... Only with this reverence I now looked at her. It can't be otherwise. And I saw that she was no less surprised than I was. Now I understood what connection the avatar of order was telling me about. You can't confuse something like this with anything. I found you, my betrothed. And I won’t let you go anywhere else."

SOURCE

[ohnococo]

Between Water and Wind | Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

“He’s not good for you, baby.” You don’t say anything to that, there’s no reason to. He knows you don’t need to be told that, he knows the same things everyone knows. That Sukuna cheats on you, that he barely tries to hide it, that he’d lose his mind if he knew that you did the same.

Sukuna isn't good for you, you know this, Gojo knows this. You can't leave him though, so instead you'll seek comfort in Gojo's arms in secret, even as he asks you to want better for yourself.

Warnings: angst, unhealthy relationship, cheating (both getting cheated on and cheating), Toxic!BF Sukuna, vaginal sex, crying, revenge sex, pining gojo

WC: 1.2k

Satoru Gojo can never stop running his mouth. You’ve loved it in the past, laughing at his antics, giving him the same back, but it’s the last thing you want right now.

“He’s not good for you, baby.”

You don’t say anything to that, there’s no reason to. He knows you don’t need to be told that, he knows the same things everyone knows. That Sukuna cheats on you, that he barely tries to hide it, that he’d lose his mind if he knew that you did the same. It’s different for you, though. You would have never done it if he hadn’t cheated on you first, and you didn’t do it. Not the first time he cheated at least, nor the second, but the third was the last straw for you. You’ve stopped counting at this point, because you know for every one you find out about - by going through his phone, or being told by a friend, or just knowing he’s lying about where he is and what he’s doing - that there must be more. Now you just take the heartbreak, knowing you’ll go where you always end up when he does it again:

In Satoru’s room, fucking all your worries away, if only for a moment.

“I am.” He looks up at you, pleading, before your pussy squeezing at his cock has him burying his face in your chest again, moans barely muffled for a moment before he’s back to begging you for more with those icy eyes. “I’ll be so good to you. So, so good.”

Sometimes he saves this for afterwards, when he’s made you cum until you’re almost convinced fucking him behind Sukuna’s back is an appropriate form of vengeance, even if he doesn’t know about it because he can’t. When he’s tracing patterns over your bare skin, almost pouting as he tells you all the reasons why you have to leave Sukuna. It makes it easier to snap out of that warm afterglow. The pit in your stomach that forms at the thought of trying to be without Sukuna helps push away that budding affection you try to ignore for Satoru.

Because it’s not easy. It’s far, far too complicated, and Satoru just can’t understand it. For him it’s obvious: Sukuna is a bad man. Sukuna hurts the people he cares about. Sukuna doesn’t even care that he’s doing it. So he hates him.

Unfortunately, the math doesn’t quite work out the same for you. You’d never felt as awful as Sukuna made you feel, but you’d also never felt as good, because when he loves he does it with his whole body. His whole soul. Like there’s no option other than being bound together forever because it would always be you. You didn’t think you could live a life where you didn’t get to bask under his glow when he happened to see fit.

Satoru almost makes you think you could, though. Especially like this, with his cock buried deep, because he’s got to fill you with as much of his love as you’ll let him, and this is the only time you let him. In secret, in the centre of his bed and on his lap, rocking your hips against him while he holds you close and pleads his case. He’s pleading your case too, really.

“He’s never gonna change… I’d never do that to you.”

You thought he understood what this was. That you couldn’t leave Sukuna. That you couldn’t even stand up to him. It was why you were sneaking around behind his back, seeking a hollow replica of strength to make up for how weak you were to him just as much as you were seeking comfort for what he kept doing to you.

The fact that Satoru let you seduce him time and again, knowing he was already yours from the day you met, wasn’t a revelation you could take. Not while he was thrusting up into you like that, wet mouth kissing and sucking on your breasts as he pleads and pleads until he’s breathless. He tells you every single time that he’s waiting for that moment, and would keep waiting for that moment, but you can’t let it come no matter how often he picks up the pieces Sukuna’s actions leave you in.

It makes you weaker, it makes you cry, and your tears are hot as they roll down your cheeks. You tilt your head back as you moan, hoping Satoru won’t notice and will assume your gentle trembling is just the orgasm that was steadily approaching as he fucks you tenderly. His perception is keen, though. Especially when it comes to this.

“See? He makes you cry.” He kisses at your tears as they reach your jawline, unable to unwrap his arms from you to wipe them away as he had so many times before. “You can’t love someone who makes you cry.”

He knows that’s not true. Unfortunately, so do you.

“I’ll never make you cry, I promise.”

He was already breaking that promise, but you can’t tell him that. You were hurting enough for the both of you, enough for Sukuna too because you know why he’s the way he is, even if Satoru won’t hear it. He won’t hear a lot of the things you tell him, or the things you tell yourself. He’s only listening for certain words from you: that you’ll leave Sukuna, that you want him instead, that you love...

You can’t even think it, much less say it, and you can’t hear anymore of his pleas while you were so close - so you tangle your hand in his soft hair and pull him into your crushing kiss. Deep enough to make his talking stop, deep enough to make your tears flow faster. It doesn’t matter right now though, with Satoru throbbing inside of you. He lets go of you for the first time since you’d entered his home, only to bring his hand between your bodies to slide skillful fingers at your bundle of nerves, and you’re breathing each other in as you let sounds instead of words convey your feelings.

It borders on too much, like it always does, body clenching, milking him dry, til you’re shaking and panting and able to push all of your worries aside for one brief moment with Satoru Gojo.

But all of the things that don’t matter right now will in due time. The confidence Satoru has in thinking he could pry Sukuna from under your skin if he tries hard enough. The glimpse of your heart that you give him even when you’ll have to hide it away again because it’s not his. The lies you tell Sukuna when you leave to see him, much more believable than the lies he tells you - if only because he wouldn’t even dream that you would do to him even half of what he’s done to you. And he’s right, in a way. He would lie, cheat, ruin you heart and soul, but he would never ever go and fall in love with anyone but you.

All of these things will catch up to you eventually, because Satoru Gojo can never stop running his mouth.

You know this, and it makes you scared for Satoru. It makes you scared for yourself.

[bucketsofmonsters]

The Shapeshifting Detective - Part 7

cw: parental death, grief, referenced murder, allusions to sex work, slow burn, more tags will be added as the story continues

male shapeshifter x fem character

word count: 4k

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Kate had been awake for what she was certain must have been hours, just lying there. Too afraid to break this sliver of peace she’d stumbled upon. 

The steady rise and fall of her chest naturally mimicked that of Vincent's as she felt it against her side. 

The quiet couldn’t last forever. He shifted away from her with a groan. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d just awoken or if he’d been basking in the moment like she’d been. 

“C’mon,” he said, his voice soft. “We gotta go, just follow me.”

She let him pull her to her feet without protest, following quietly behind, the lingering peace of sleep still blanketing her in a calm that she desperately needed. 

As she followed behind him, one hand clasped Vincent’s while the other still carried Anne’s dress, cradling it close to her chest as he led her through the streets. 

“Where are we going,” she finally asked, feeling disoriented by his route. She was used to main streets and grand entrances, not the back alleys that she was being pulled through now. 

“Somewhere safe,” he said plainly, and as her drowsiness began to fade, the evasiveness of his answer struck her. 

She was on alert once again and although the streets weren’t ones she was used to, it didn’t take long before some of them became eerily familiar. 

As soon as she realized she stopped in her tracks, staying firmly planted in place as Vincent attempted to tug her onwards. “What do you mean somewhere safe? You said she was dangerous.”

“She won’t hurt you, don’t worry,” he tried to reassure her, but the fact that he’d attempted to hide it overrode the sincerity in his tone. 

“I don’t even know what she is!”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, but I need to find somewhere safe to bring you and Evelyn is one of my only options.”

A few days ago that wouldn’t have been nearly enough to convince her but a few days ago she had a lot more freedom. “Fine, but you have to tell me what she is. No more vagueness and secrets, I want to know.”

“Do you promise you won’t freak out?”

Kate nodded solemnly.

“Alright, well the closest thing you have in human lore is a vampire.”

Kate gasped, her eyes widening as her hands flew to cover her mouth. “She’s a vampire? Hold on, vampires are real?”

“You promised not to freak out, this looks like freaking out.”

Her mind was already darting through the implications. “Wait, so how many of the creatures in folklore are real?”

“I don’t know, most of them. Can we talk about this later?” he asked as he glanced around. 

“That’s wild, that’s… you know, in hindsight, I think I should have seen that coming, she fits it perfectly. She isn’t doing much to hide it, is she?”

“No, she most certainly is not. Can we please go now?”

The new information hadn’t done much to soothe Kate but she let Vincent pull her along once more. She’d already decided to trust him, if he said she’d be safe here she knew that it was true. 

Or at least that he believed it. 

It was much easier to enter Evelyn’s home through a doorway. Not that she would have had the option. She noticed with a twinge of misplaced pride that all the windows that had previously been left open to air out the rooms were now firmly closed and locked. 

Vincent walked in ahead of her and she let him take the lead. As eager as she’d been to run into situations head first, this seemed like one where it was wise to stay back. 

She heard the clicking of heels and a familiar voice said, “I swear to god if you’re bringing me another unconscious human I am going to…” 

Evelyn stopped in her tracks the second she laid eyes on Kate, her expression shifting from that of vague amusement to a distressed sort of fury. 

Vincent gave her an apologetic smile. “Well, she’s not unconscious.”

Her eyes flitted back and forth between you, the moment of angry panic fading back to her practiced lazy confidence. “Vincent, I swear to god, you cannot keep doing this.”

“She needed help!”

“Odd, feels like you can’t seem to stop running into people who need help. I don’t know how I seem to keep missing them. Actually, maybe I prefer it this way. You’re getting too trigger-happy lately. At least this one seems like she’s been invited here, although why you’d do such a thing is beyond me.” 

“For the record, I am not trigger-happy. The Daniel thing wasn’t even my idea! She’s the one who knocked him out!” he said, gesturing vaguely in Kate’s direction. 

That seemed to pique Evelyn’s interest, her gaze shifting for the first real time, to Kate. No longer was she regarding her like a stray dog Vincent had brought, now she was looking as if she was a real person standing before her. 

“Did you?” she prompted, looking Kate up and down, making her squirm a little under the unrelenting inspection. 

“I needed to. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

That earned a wry chuckle from her. “Well, at least this one’s more interesting than the last one. She’s got more bite to her. Maybe we will get along.”

Kate winced at the word bite. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

Kate hadn’t thought that Evelyn could get any more irritated with Vincent but in that moment she was genuinely concerned for his wellbeing. 

“Now why would she think that’s a joke,” Evelyn asked through gritted teeth. 

It was his turn to squirm as she glared at him. “We may have discussed some of your… proclivities.”

Her jaw tightened as she stared Vincent down. “And what else might have you discussed?”

“On the bright side, you don’t need to worry about calling them humans when she walked in. There’s no more game to give away, use all the weird language you’d like.”

Evelyn did not seem to view this as the positive Vincent was attempting to spin it as. 

“I am counting the days until you either figure this shit out or give up and frame someone. I can’t even get gray hairs but I swear every time we talk I get closer.”

That perked him up. “About the figuring it out situation…”

Kate cut him off. It was her decision now anyways, he didn’t need to flounder in an attempt to explain. “It’s done, my mother confessed. She hasn’t been arrested yet but it’s only a matter of time.”

“You solved it?” Evelyn asked, giving Kate a once over as she did.

She nodded. “Should’ve done it sooner. It’s my fault it even took as long as it did. But this case will be closed soon, I will make certain of it, do whatever it takes.”

Evelyn raised an eyebrow at her statement. “Whatever it takes, huh?”

Kate nodded, her absolute determination refusing to waver. 

Vincent cut in, adding, “Also, everyone might currently think Kate did it so that’s a minor roadblock we need to handle. In related news, I’m just gonna leave her here for a couple hours. Just like… 12 hours. Maybe 14.”

Her attention snapped back towards him, losing whatever interest she’d had in Kate. “Vincent! I have appointments tonight, what am I supposed to do?”

“Postpone them?”

If looks could kill, he would be long gone. “You aren’t doing this. I know you aren’t. What has gotten into you? You said you figured it out! That’s it. It’s done, case closed, just go arrest her. We can all celebrate no longer being murder suspects and you can take Kate along as you clear her name.”

“I have to figure some stuff out first.”

She rubbed her temples. “Vincent, I went along with your stupid little plan to unravel all of this instead of just pinning it on someone, please don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t. Just give me a few hours, that’s it.”

“14 hours is not a few hours.”

“You’re the best, thanks!” he called back, already heading towards the door as Evelyn continued to scowl at him. 

She spent what felt like an eternity just glaring at the door that was slowly swinging closed with a squeak that seemed deafening in the otherwise quiet room. 

Finally, with a huff, she turned her attention back to Kate, saying, “I know this isn’t your fault but I think I might blame you anyways.”

Kate managed a weak smile. “Shame, I thought we could both blame Vincent.”

“I might take you up on that when he gets back. He’d rather listen to his human of the week than me anyways.”

Kate wanted to press that statement and learn more about Vincent but it seemed wise to leave that particular topic alone, at least until Evelyn calmed down. 

“Who were you going to pin it on?” she asked instead. It took massive amounts of restraint to not tack a ‘was it me?’ onto the end of her question. 

“I couldn’t have cared less. You were at the top of the list until Vincent started fawning over you. Your little fiance was a close second.”

“He’s not my fiance. And the motive isn’t there, it wouldn’t have made sense.”

She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter if it makes sense, just matters that it’s not me.”

“Speaking of my non-fiance, where are they? Him and that detective?” Kate asked as she glanced around, looking for any signs of a makeshift prison. 

“Blindfolded and handcuffed to a pipe in a closet. They’re very annoying to take care of, I wanted nothing to do with the matter but the alternative was Vincent taking care of them and I wasn’t about to let that happen.”

“Because they would have escaped under his watch or because he would’ve let them go?”

She waved the question off. “One or the other, impossible to know with him. Although those two don’t really seem like his type, especially not after he met you.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t help but wonder what would it have been like if he’d met one of them first. Maybe he would’ve been by Daniel’s side instead. The thought made her feel a little sick, though she couldn’t fully place why. Pushing it aside, she continued on with her neverending questions. 

“What appointments are you missing?”

“I’m supposed to be drinking people’s blood, dear. Amongst other things. Why all the questions, are you interested?”

She smiled and Kate couldn’t tell if she was flirting or teasing her. If she had to bet, she’d put her money on both.

“Do you… kill them?” she asked hesitantly. 

“God, you’re so dramatic. No, I don’t kill them. You’d be surprised how many people are ready and willing to participate.”

“You get men to willingly sign up to get their blood drunk?”

“Did I say men?”

“Just any old person then?”

She shrugged and gave Kate a knowing smile. Every smile from her felt almost antagonistic. Like it was meant to be a little frightening, an active attempt to make herself as offputting as possible. “I don’t discriminate. Bloods blood, after all, and a humans a human.”

One thing was missing from her menacing smile though. “You don’t have fangs. Don't vampires usually have fangs?”

The question seemed to catch her genuinely off-guard, reeling back a little before regaining her composure and putting on her imposing little performance once more. “I did. They got filed down, it’s standard practice nowadays. Hurts like hell but they say it's better than being so recognizable, that there are less suspicious ways to draw blood. It’s a shame, I wish I still had them. Fuck what the humans think, I can fend for myself.”

“Wouldn’t that just make everything harder? I imagine the clothes do,” she said, looking down at the intense black that even Kate couldn’t match in her funeral garb. 

“It does. I don’t give a shit. We’ve hidden for long enough if you ask me.”

Kate couldn’t help but smile at the thought. She’d spent her whole life hiding and lying, not knowing there was any other option. And then these monsters, these creatures of honesty and bravery appeared and it somehow felt more foreign than anything else they ever could have shown her. 

It was overwhelming, being faced with people with so much to lose being so much braver than anyone she’d ever seen, than anything she could ever do. 

Now when she thought of returning home, back to normalcy, it wasn’t just dread of the inevitable that filled her. There was something else sneaking in, this sense that she would be choosing this, that she could escape the endless lies and the hiding. After all, they did.

Her breathing got shallower and her chest felt tight right under when she was holding Anne’s dress. 

Looking down at it, she came to a decision and the tension dissipated. The dread and the grief couldn’t catch up with her if she just kept moving so that's what she’d do. 

“I’ll get out of your hair,” she said with the politest smile she was still capable of. “Do you have somewhere I can change?”

“Where ever you’d like, I don’t mind.”

Kate got the distinct impression Evelyn wouldn’t have minded if she started stripping right there and then but still she wandered off until she found an empty room. 

It had a bed in the center with some suspicious stains on it that she tried not to think too hard about and dozens of mirrors lining the perimeter of the room. It wasn’t exactly ideal but it would do for the short time she’d be here. 

She had absolutely no intention of staying put, but she knew she couldn’t show up as she was. Even now she wasn’t that reckless.  But Vincent had unintentionally given her a disguise and she’d be amiss not to use it. 

It was a good bet, no one really noticed the servants, especially if she stuck to herself. The hardest part would be getting out without Evelyn stopping her. 

Her attempt to get out of her mourning clothes was not going well. She hadn’t noticed how much she was shaking until she was face to face with the buttons and lacing of her dress. 

A familiar, looming presence arrived in the doorway. 

Kate could feel her gaze even before she turned to meet Evelyn’s eye.

“It’s polite to knock,” she said, not allowing the woman’s presence to stop her from attempting to free herself of the endless black clothing.  

She watched, an amused look on her face as she watched Kate struggle to undo her clothes on her own. 

“You need help with that?” Evelyn asked, not even attempting to hide her smile. 

“I’m fine,” Kate replied with a huff. 

“Seems like it.” She watched as shaky fingers struggled to untie a bow for a few moments more before pacing over and swatting Kate’s hands away. 

She pushed Kate’s tensed shoulders down and added, “Relax a little, I don’t bite. Well, I do but that’s beside the point.”

Somehow that didn’t add to Kate’s trust in the woman. 

She continued on, barely paying any mind to the rising tension of the girl below her fingertips. 

“What do you think of him,” she asked as Kate felt the garment loosen. 

“I don’t know. He’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, I guess. Haven’t had much time to think about anything at all lately.” That wasn’t quite true but she was sure Evelyn didn’t want to hear about the neverending flurry of thoughts that plagued her. 

Evelyn guided the dress down her arms, the corset loosening around her a few moments later. 

She kept talking as she worked. “That boy has a real bleeding heart. I try and get him to loosen up and have some fun and he brings home a handful of strays with sob stories.”

“Is that what I am?” she asked, trying to get a good look at the woman behind her through the mirrors. “One of his strays?”

“I don’t know. Usually, he moves them along pretty quickly, tries not to get too attached. With you, well, I think it might be too late for that. Good luck getting rid of him now, I certainly haven’t had any luck with it.” 

The last remnants of her mourning garb fell to the ground and before Kate could protest that she could take it from here Evelyn was already helping her into Anne’s clothes. 

“Are you trying to?”

“Not really. But don’t tell him that, I have to keep up pretenses. I would ruin my brand if people found out I wasn’t a heartless bitch.” 

“Don’t worry, I don’t think there’s any danger of that.”

“Be careful. What is it they say about glass houses?”

As Evelyn finished, Kate looked at herself in Anne’s clothes in one of the many mirrors lining the walls, but Evelyn didn’t seem interested in leaving. She hovered just behind Kate, eyes roaming her without so much as a care about Kate’s feelings on being inspected. 

Her head cocked to the side as if trying to get a new angle on Kate. “Your mind is elsewhere. What’s going on up there?”

“I need to go back.”

“I know. That’s why you’re getting dressed, isn’t it?”

“Vincent wouldn’t want me to go,” Kate blurted out. 

Evelyn looked around the room. “Huh, I had no idea he’d snuck back in here. Making decisions for you before I could even lay eyes on him, how does he do it? Go. Do what you need to do. If he comes back early I’ll handle it.”

“Promise?”

“In regards to you sneaking out? Sure. I make no promises about anything else you might do. I have evidence of how easily you get carried away tied up in the other room, I’m not that foolish.”

“Thank you,” she said, and she wondered if Evelyn could hear her sincerity or if she’d gotten so used to faking it over the years that no one could tell any longer. 

Getting home was easy. She lived in this city her whole life, lived there for so long, she could find her way home from anywhere. 

It filled her with unease the second she laid eyes on it but the emotion didn’t feel out of place. It had always been there, bottled up with every other emotion. 

She managed to make her way past people of various stations as she slipped inside, avoiding eye contact and keeping her head down as much as she could. 

She was so set on keeping her head down and out of trouble that she didn’t even see her coming until she heard the faint gasp. 

Her head rose to see Anne backing away from her, hands raised in a quiet surrender, like she was a wild animal who could pounce at any moment. 

“Kate,” she said quietly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She hadn’t been certain why she was coming back until this moment, with Anne in front of her. Before it was just the need to keep pushing forward propelling her, sending her back again. But now, staring down the person who’d been her only friend, she knew exactly why she was here. “I needed to come back.”

Anne kept backing slowly away, edging towards the door. “No, you didn’t. There’s nothing left here. Now I know we didn’t leave off on the best terms but you shouldn’t do anything rash.”

“I didn’t… you’re scared of me.” The observation felt like a punch in the gut, all of the air being sucked out of her. 

“No, I’m not,” she said too quickly in a voice a little higher than it should’ve been. 

“Please don’t do this. I’m still Kate, I’m still…”

But was she? She wasn’t even sure she could recognize the Kate that Anne knew anymore. For so long, that was the closest to honesty she’d gotten, and yet now that girl felt like just as much of a stranger as everyone else did with their own unique set of lies. 

“Yeah, of course you are,” she said, in a desperate attempt to placate her. 

There was nothing she could do to fix this. Not this version of her, not this person who Anne didn’t know. Kate had pushed her away at just the wrong time and now Anne was scared of her and there was nothing she could do to change that. 

Anne finally seemed to decide she’d edged close enough to the door, turning heel and running through the doorway. 

A few moments later, a familiar detective walked through the door, presumably retracing Anne’s panicked steps. 

Worry creased his brow as he laid eyes on Kate. “What’re you doing here?” he asked, rushing to her side. He pulled her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet his in an attempt to ground her. “You shouldn’t be here. I’ve got this, you’re going to get yourself hurt.”

“No. I… I needed to be here.”  

He glanced nervously behind him as he spoke. “Alright, we have bigger problems right now. Is she going to tell someone you’re here? Do we need to run or can you just hide?”

And she didn’t know. She has no idea if her best friend in the world was turning her in as they spoke.

The most she could manage was a shrug and then they were off, Vincent dragging her behind him. 

This time there were no arguments as he took her back to Evelyn, shouting, “I told you to keep her here,” as soon as he entered. 

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “She wanted to leave, what was I supposed to do, lock her up?’

He was wide-eyed and disheveled, looking more frustrated than Kate had ever seen him before. Evelyn stood as confident as ever.

Kate just let them bicker, Vincent furious and insisting she could’ve been hurt while Evelyn tried to remind him that it wasn’t his choice to make. 

“What were you even doing there?” Kate finally asked, cutting off their fighting in an attempt to make sense of as much of this as she could. 

“Talking to your mother, trying to get her to recant her statement. To give you an escape route, if you needed one. I think if you let me try for longer, I might be able to-”

“Please stop.”

He shook his head, “No, I really think it’s possible.”

He didn’t get it. She had to make him get it. “And who then? If not her, then who? What innocent soul are we sacrificing if it's not my mother? “

“I don’t know, we’ll figure it out.”

“No, let’s talk about it right now. Maybe Evelyn, what about that? She’s an easy target.”

He looked like a kicked puppy but she couldn’t stop. She needed him to understand. “You’re not being fair…”

“Okay, not her. Blame it on one of the staff then. They had easy access, I’m sure we could come up with a motive. I’ve got an easy one, just say it was Anne. Everyone knows we’re close, it would be an easy sell.”

“Stop it.”

“I can’t. I can’t stop until you understand.” She got more and more frantic the more she spoke. “ It has to be her. She did this. I know she’s my mother and I know you feel for her but I also know that we can’t just leave this be. He’s dead and she did it and that has to be it. I need that to be it.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay, that’s it then.”

“That’s it?” she asked, and she hated how small she sounded.

“That’s it. Your call.”

She expected to have to fight harder but he backed down. He’d been telling the truth, she supposed. It was up to her, her choice to make. 

She opened her mouth to thank him but before anything could be said, a knock on the door echoed through the room. 

Kate and Vincent turned to look but Evelyn sprung right into action. She manhandled Kate into the closest cupboard, shutting the door after hissing at her to stay absolutely quiet. 

She held her breath as she stood in the wooden box that was barely big enough to fit her. The front door swung open and Evelyn alone greeted the people at the door, Vincent off somewhere. Maybe he was hiding in some other equally cramped space. 

Her blood ran cold as she heard a few words through the door, muffled talk about warrants making its way to her. 

The police were here. If they found her she would be arrested but worse than that, there were two kidnapped people in this house, kidnapped people who knew far too much. 

If they found and freed them, that was it. Evelyn would be arrested and what would Vincent even be able to do? Harvey and Daniel would hear tales about all the things they managed to do despite having been kidnapped and they’d all know. Vincent would have to just go, leave the two of them at the mercy of the law, or worse, he’d try something stupid and all three of them would get hurt. 

Kate did the only thing she could think of. She took one final, deep breath as she stepped out of the cupboard  

“I’m in here,” Kate called, praying she could convince the police that Evelyn had no idea she was hiding here, that at the very least she could protect someone. 

It certainly got their attention. Barely a moment had passed before she was being restrained and hauled towards the door. 

On her way out she passed Evelyn, giving some sob story to the officer in front of her. 

In one fleeting moment of eye contact, as Kate was pulled out, she saw a gleam of acknowledgment in her eyes, a quiet thank you that turned to fear once more before any of the officers even had time to notice. 

It was in Evelyn’s hands now. Kate was shoved into the back of a police wagon as she sent a silent ‘good luck’ to the pair she was leaving behind. She had a feeling they’d all need it.

[mistiell]

Nobody Better than You

Eddie Munsons x GN! Reader

Summary: Eddie gets a little insecure after some asshole says something about your relationship. You, being the lovely partner that you are, assure him that he’s the only one for you

Warnings: Established relationship, insecure Eddie, tooth rotting fluff

A/N: Yes, I did use one of my own prompts for this fic. No, I am not sorry.

Challenge for you: Try to find the prompt. The list of them is here. Go nuts

__________________________________________

Eddie Munson is not an insecure person. In fact, he’s one of the most confident people you know. He’s always been unapologetically himself and if someone didn’t like it, well then they could just look away. That’s one of the many, many qualities that attracted you to him.

However, that doesn’t mean that other’s words don’t hurt.

You’ve been dating him for just over six months at this point and people at school have had plenty of not so great things to say. You and Eddie are total opposites in their eyes, an odd couple to say the least. He’s perceived as this big, bad metalhead “freak” and you’re the goody two shoes of Hawkins. Flawless grades, honour roll since freshman year, never rebelled against anyone or anything as far as anyone else knows.

What they don’t know is that you and Eddie have a lot more in common than they think. You like the same music, the same movies, and even have some of the same hobbies. He’s corrupted you a little, sure, but nothing like what everyone else suspects.

Most of the time, it’s easy for him to brush off the comments your peers make about your relationship. They don’t know him and he doesn’t know them, so why should he care what they think? Sometimes, though, certain comments can get under his skin.

Which is why you currently find yourself with your boyfriend laid between your legs, his head on your chest while you play with his hair. You know something’s eating at him by how he’s been acting all day. The first thing that tipped you off was that his usually playful and upbeat demeanor is more sullen and lethargic than it should be. The second was that tonight was supposed to be date night. However, he insisted on staying in, blaming the sudden change of plans on the rain despite the fact that it was drizzling at most.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Your voice seems almost deafening when it breaks the silence despite how soft it really is.

“Mhm.” He hums, nuzzling his face into your chest and sliding his hands under your shirt, thumbs brushing lovingly against your skin.

You sigh and chew on your lip, staring at a spot on the ceiling and running your fingers through his hair before speaking again, “I don’t know how much I believe that.”

He’s quiet for a moment. You can almost hear the gears turning in his head as he contemplates what to say, “S’nothing.”

“If it’s got you upset, it’s not nothing, Eds.”

He lifts his head to look at you, big, brown doe eyes boring into yours. His gaze roams your face for a moment and you let him stare, hands coming up to brush his bangs out of his eyes before settling on his cheeks. He sighs and his eyes close as he leans into your touch, basking in the silence before hesitantly breaking it with a question that makes your heart clench, “Why do you love me?”

“Why do I love you?” You echo, brows furrowing as you caress his face, “Eddie, why wouldn’t I love you?”

“I dunno.” He mumbles, averting his gaze, “Some people at school were saying you could do so much better than,” He huffs a sharp, bitter laugh, “Than an idiot like me. I can’t help but wonder why you choose to stay with me when you really could find better.”

“Look at me,” He doesn’t and you soften your voice even further, “Eds.”

He finally meets your gaze and you can see tears collecting on his waterline.

“I choose to stay with you because I don’t want anyone else. I want you. Always.” He doesn’t look convinced so you keep going, “Do you remember the day we first met?“

He nods, a tiny smile tugging on his lips, “I wasn’t paying attention in the halls and I accidentally bumped into you.”

“You knocked all of my books onto the floor.”

“I almost knocked you onto the floor.” He chuckles and your heart sings at the sound.

“Almost, yeah.” You laugh, “You know, I never told you, but the second you knelt down to help me pick them up, I had already decided that if you didn’t do it first, I was gonna ask you out one day.”

“Really?” He smiles, that familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes, “Damn. Wish I had waited to ask you out for ice cream. I would’ve payed to see you try to ask me out,” He presses his lips to yours, “All flustered ‘n stuttering,” another kiss, “Would’ve been cute.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” You smile against his lips, fingers threading in his hair, “Saved me from embarrassing myself.”

He chuckles at that, resting his forehead against yours and brushing your noses together as you both settle into a comfortable silence.

“Y/n?”

You hum.

“I love you.”

You smile and tilt your head up to press your lips to his forehead, “I love you too, Eds.”

[revelmaven]

i started this comic about two years ago, based on something i said to my partner in the midst of that era of my life's worst tragedy. because it seems like every time there is some kind of tragedy, people respond with this same idea of looking for the light at the end of the tunnel - and as someone with an extensive backstory of pain, i feel like i've spent my whole fucking life in tunnels.

i got so tired of hearing it - and i know it was well meant, i do. i don't hold it against anyone. there's nothing good to say in a tragedy, there's no words that unmake pain, but you want them to. and you can only offer what comfort you have. but after so, so many tunnels, the idea that this newest one might have light for a little bit offers me very little comfort.

in the time since starting this comic i have taken on a handful of chronic conditions, that will never go away, and will only ever break my phsyical body down more. i've had to wrestle with the fact i was the healthiest i'll ever be again probably five years ago. i've had to age a lot of years prematurely. i've had to lose a lot of things before i even tried them. i've sustained a lot of new horrific hurts. and i've lost so many people.

i'm beginning to think it'll be dark forever. i think that's just the way the world is these days, and i don't think i'm particularly special for noting that; the world is darker and harsher and scarier than it's ever been, not only for me but for everyone. certainly everyone i know.

but i made the decision when i said this - the idea of waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel felt, after so long, to me like just gritting my teeth in silence and doing nothing to push back against the darkness surrounding me. the light was something that would come to me eventually, for a little while, before it inevitably got swallowed by the tunnel again. and i said fuck it. if it's gonna be dark forever, i am not living in this place. i'm done with the tunnel. if it's dark forever and dark everywhere, i am at least not going to stand in a cave begging for scraps of brightness to come and find me. i'm going out there into that neverending night and i am going to surround myself with every tiny speck of light that i can possibly see, in the hopes that one day that light everyone has told me so much about might be a sunrise that completely engulfs me, not just a little moment of brightness from within my hiding place. i will fill my life of night with stars in the form of people, and places, and experiences, and love. it's never going to get rid of the darkness. i think that's where so many people lost me in their sentiment. i am choosing to hang onto this life and love it despite everything, but i do not live in situation in which the darkness ends. for some people it does. please understand how overwhelmingly glad i am if that is the case for you. but not for all of us. for some of us, for me, the darkness is something that will forever hover over our journey, and i'm not afraid of it, not after so long. it's going to be there. it always has been. but i'm not going to sit blind in it anymore. i'm going to go out there and bask in starlight for as long as i can. the stars don't ever remove the darkness. but aren't they so much nicer to look at?

[malemacrofics]



Ever since Bolin forced Zaheer to "put a sock in it". I've imagined what it would be like to be a pet or toy to that big, himbo lug.

The Side Effects of Spirit-Bending

Content: Gentle Giant, Underwear Entrapment, Cum Eating, Forgetful Giant, Musk, Bolin's just doing his best tbh

A/N: Probably the smuttiest thing I've written yet, I'm not gonna lie. But I am happy with how it came out! Hope you guys like it and, as always, requests are open even if I am kinda slow to get around to them. Also, if you guys have any macro headcanons or blurbs you wanna share, please do! I love talking macro, haha

I wasn’t sure what had happened, if I’m being honest with myself. I am (was?) part of the ground forces attacking Republic City with Kuvira. Her gargantuan machine marched alongside my regiment. My team had been briefed on all the things that might have happened. Everything from the Avatar throwing boulders large enough to fit in my apartment, or the Beifong family joining the fight and attempting to drop entire buildings on the machine. Even that, admittedly handsome, earthbender turning the streets to lava in an attempt to trap the mech was all in the briefing. However, the large purple mushroom cloud that erupted in the middle of the city once the mech fell? Or the resulting energy and shock waves that raced outwards from the epicenter? Those were new. I doubt any briefing could have prepared me for that.

I was one of the unfortunate sods to be close to the epicenter. Everything was basked in a strange, unnatural purple light for a few seconds. The light was quickly followed by an immense burst of heat and force that knocked me horizontal onto the road. Finally, in my last moments before I lost consciousness, I could feel immense amounts of electricity coursing through my body. Almost as though I had stuck my tongue into an electrical outlet. When I finally came too and everything wasn’t surrounded by a constant haze, I looked around to survey my situation.

There were relatively large pieces of debris surrounding me, and the roadway beneath me seemed to suffer a few cracks. However, the buildings on either side of me still reached high into the sky, in fact they seemed higher than they did moments ago. You did just probably suffer some kind of hit to the head. I reminded myself, trying to remain logical despite the rising panic I felt. At least I wasn’t trapped under some debris. I could feel slightly rumbling behind me, however I assured myself it was either an aftershock of whatever caused that shockwave, or a far off building collapsing under its own weight. Now wasn’t the time to get too caught up in worry of what ifs. At least, it wouldn’t have been the time for the panic if not for the massive shadow that began to loom over me. I quickly turned only to see a giant, large enough to eclipse the sun.

I had attempted to bend a nearby rock and blast it towards the giant’s leg, only for it to immediately grab its shin and yell out due to the sudden pain. However, as the giant bent over, and its face got closer to me, I could see who it was, clear as day. It was that lava bender from earlier. However, just as I was able to more clearly make out his face, his eyes fell on me with sudden recognition. I could see his large, green eyes quickly pass through emotions ranging from anger at the pebble I launched his way, to confusion at what I was, before settling on concern. The giant reached out a hand for me. My attempts to evade proved fruitless due to the sheer difference in size between us, as he was able to easily wrap his fingers around me before bringing me up before his face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, little guy. I don’t want to hurt you! What happened?” He asked

“Let go of me, you big lug!” I responded, trying to thrash against his grip.

“Hey, I genuinely mean you no harm.” He said, opening his hand so I could stand on his palm, “See?”

I warily stood up before eyeing him suspiciously. “So, what do you want?”

“What happened to you? You’re like… five inches tall! Are you a spirit or something?”

“I’m not a spirit. And what do you mean, five inches tall?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, little dude, but you’re standing on my hand. Look around, everything’s giant compared to you!”

I took a look at my surroundings for the first time since the blast, and his words finally set in. The debris I was surrounded by wasn’t actually large. To a normal sized person, it would’ve looked like fist-sized rocks. I must have had a look of concern on my face, as the giant earthbender piped up. “Hey, little guy, don’t panic! Once this is all over, I’ll try to help you get back to normal, alright? My name’s Bolin, by the way.”

Hearing his giant voice grounded me back in our reality. “Right, thank you, Bolin. My name’s Arik. What do we do now?”

Before Bolin could answer, a voice behind him called out “Bolin! Where’s Korra?”

Bolin’s eyes went wide with concern yet again as he frantically tried shoving me into his pocket, only to find his pants lacking them. Then, I could see an idea cross his mind as he mouthed “Sorry” to me before pulling open the waistband of his pants. I didn’t have enough time to grasp what he was doing until I was unceremoniously dropped in and the waistband closed. I fell for only a few seconds until I hit something warm.

I had no light in my new environment, but considering what had happened, It didn’t take much effort to figure out what had happened. I was now face to, well, dick with Bolin. My entire body pinned between his member and the fabric of his underwear. My nose filled with the scent of his musk. I attempted to wriggle free from the confines, only to be met with the giant dick to slowly harden. As it got harder, I found myself with less and less space. Deciding it was better to at least be able to move somewhat, I stopped trying to free myself and instead just wait. Hopefully I wouldn’t be in here long.

—--

Bolin had an exhausting day. He and the rest of Team Avatar, as well as the air nomads, had to deal with Kuvira’s invasion of Republic City, which ended with Korra managing to bend a beam of spirit energy from almost point blank range. And if that weren’t enough, the sheer amount of that energy managed to rip another portal into the spirit realm. After all was said and done, Bolin just wanted to lay down and relax for a little bit. Luckily, Tenzin was more than willing to let him use a guest room on Air Temple Island.

Bolin opened the paper door and saw the room he’d be staying in for the night. A bed pushed against the corner with a wardrobe in the neighboring corner, and between them a large, hexagonal window to let in plenty of wind. He collapsed on the bed, initially face first before turning onto his back. All he really wanted to do was fall asleep, but after the day he was coated in so much sweat he knew he should shower first. But before he could begin to get back up and head into the shower, he could feel his blood begin to rush towards his manhood and feel it begin to harden. He placed his palm on his bulge and began playing with it through the fabric. “What the hell,” Bolin thought to himself, “I deserve it after the day I had.”

As he finished his thought, he pulled down the waistband of his pants and boxers and put his dick in his hand.

—--

Arik felt like the day might never end. He could feel each footstep Bolin took, causing his surroundings to constantly shift. It wasn’t terrible until Bolin began walking up and down some slope. The fabric and skin around him began to shift until he was pinned under looser skin, which Arik quickly identified as Bolin’s testicles. Their wiry hair coiled around his limbs until he was plastered to their surface, and his face now inches away from the tip of Bolin’s penis. As Arik tried to free himself from the hairs, Bolin’s dick would harden again, but with his new position, all he could do was watch as it also leaked small amounts of precum, coating Arik’s face, even forcing him to attempt to eat it if he still wanted to be able to breath. Ironically, the part of this whole experience Arik hated the most wasn’t being trapped against a sweaty crotch, but it was feeling his own dick harden at the experience. At least Arik could take solace in the fact he already had a crush on Bolin after seeing him in those moving pictures a few years back.

Eventually, Bolin began to move more slowly, and he heard some talk through the fabric of Bolin asking someone to stay on Air Temple Island. As Arik was feeling more excited at the prospects of getting out of Bolin’s boxers, he was met with a massive force pushing him closer to the giant earthbender. He was completely pinned against the fabric. Once the pressure alleviated, he attempted to untangle himself one final time in hopes of getting out. Once again, all he did was cause the giant member to grow harder. However, before it could leak any more precum on him, Arik saw light as the waistband of the boxers were moved. However, his hopes were quickly dashed as he watched Bolin grab his own dick in his hands before trying to jack off. Arik wriggled more out of rage, doing anything he could to free himself, but only causing faint moans to come from Bolin.

I finally managed to free one of my arms, using it to free the rest of my limbs. As soon as I freed myself, I began to climb the massive balls I was pinned under for the better part of the day. I finally stood tall at the base of Bolin’s penis. His eyes were closed as he continued to jerk himself off, and I knew he wouldn’t hear me at this distance. I summoned the rest of my energy to begin running along his torso. At first, the run wasn’t terrible. His muscular build granted me enough traction that I wasn’t too worried about slipping, despite the… activity he was currently doing. However, as I began to reach his mountainous pecs, I felt a massive force hit me from behind, throwing me down onto the earthbender’s skin. A white, salty liquid covered my body, and in only a few moments more drops of it hit where I was, all the while I could hear Bolin moan in pleasure. After I picked myself up and wiped off my eyes, Bolin’s eyes fell on me. He quickly grabbed me before sitting up. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry Arik! I completely forgot you were down there!” He apologized. “You’re like, totally covered with my cum now huh? How about we shower and I can try to make it up to you, sound good little guy?”

I simply nodded, as any attempt to open my mouth caused the earthbender’s cum to enter my mouth, forcing me again to swallow it. Bolin stood up and entered the bathroom attached to his guest room. He disrobed after placing me on the counter of the sink. I could see his full body in all its majesty, from strong arms and muscular torso, to his thick cock and tree-like legs. He was built like an adonis. He reached behind me and slowly turned on the sink, just enough to let the waterfall in a single stream rather than a few pitiful drops. He let me climb back onto his palm so I could more easily climb into the basin. He even used his finger nail to cut me off a little chunk of soap to wash myself up with. Meanwhile, he turned on the water for the actual shower and entered. I wasn’t able to see him in any detail through the frosted glass. However, once he was done, he looked just as stunning as the remaining water coursed over his skin. He walked over to the sink and turned off the water. He quickly dried himself off with a towel and wrapped it around his waist before grabbing a small cloth, likely for people to dry off their hands after washing them, and gave it to me to dry myself off with.

Once I was done, he let me climb back onto his palm and took me back into the main room. He placed me onto the table beside the bed, before walking over to the wardrobe and looking through the extra clothes in there. He finally settled on an outfit, it’s orange, yellow, and red fabric making it clear it was an air nomad ensemble, however it still looked natural on him. “I doubt there’s anything in here that’ll fit you, little guy.” Bolin said in an apologetic tone. Before I could even try to reassure him, he turned on his heel and faced me “But don’t worry! I have an idea. Just stay right there, alright?”

Bolin quickly left the room after finishing his thought, only to return a few minutes later, a bundle of fabric being held in one hand, and what looked like a few cookies in the other. He set it all on the bedside table right next to me. “I figured Tenzen’s kids might still have their doll clothes, and I was right!” Bolin said, proud of himself. “Any of these suit you?”

Bolin then began rummaging through the pile of doll’s clothes. There were an assortment of clothes, many reflecting clothes of the different nations. Finally, I settled on an outfit that somewhat resembled Earth Kingdom fashion, with deep greens contrasted with brilliant gold. Unfortunately the pants were a little big for me, but Bolin quickly fixed that by pulling a thread from a shirt I didn’t like and tying it around my waist like a belt. “You look so cute like that, Arik!”

“T-thanks” I sputtered, a blush quickly coming to my cheeks as I looked away from Bolin’s face. I was then nudged by one of his fingers, atop it a small piece of a cookie he had brought back for me. I didn’t want it initially, until I felt my stomach rumble and remembered that the only thing I’ve eaten all day came from Bolin in a more… intimate manner. In the end, I graciously took the crumb and sat closer to the edge of the bedside table. Bolin and I talked for the rest of the night, him trying to get to know me better. Eventually, as we were preparing to go to bed, he said to me “I promise, starting tomorrow I’ll talk to Korra to try to get this fixed.”

“Bolin, can I be honest with you?” I asked, slightly nervous about his response.

“Yeah, of course, little guy! Glad to see you beginning to trust me more.” He responded with a small chuckle.

“I don’t know how much I want to go back to normal…”

“What do you mean? You want to stay like this forever?” “I don’t know about forever, but after getting this tiny and being found by you, things have been kind of… nice, I guess.”

“Even after I accidentally hit you with my cum?” “Weirdly enough, yeah. I had a massive crush seeing you as Nuktuk, and now getting to be taken care of by you? I don’t know, it’s kinda nice. Even if I did spend most of the day against your sweaty crotch.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, it was kind of nice getting to take care of you. And I promise it’s not normally that sweaty.” He said, with another small chuckle to himself. “But I want you to know, if at any time you want to grow back, I’ll talk to Korra and see what we can do. But until then, how about you be my little pet?” “Deal.”

With that, Bolin stripped down to just a pair of boxers and laid on the bed, pulling the covers over him. “So, Arik, where do you wanna sleep? Wanna try laying on my chest, hearing my heartbeat? Or maybe you wanna go back into my boxers? Bolin Jr. is already beginning to miss you.” Bolin said. And sure enough, you turned around and began to see a small bulge growing under the blanket. “No pressure, though” Bolin reassured you.

A/N: Sorry for the vague ending, but wanted you guys as readers to decide where to sleep for the night, lol.

[hotchs-bitch]

Fluffy Feb Day 24- Candle

Warnings: established relationship, reference to getting together in college, very old married couple vibes, aging

Pairing: Hotch x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 767

When it happens, you’re in the bath of all places. You’re half-submerged, your eyes fluttering between open and closed as you relax to the sound of music playing from your phone. It’s been a long week, it’s getting late, this is exactly what you need.

And then the power goes out.

“Shit,” you curse, standing up and fumbling for a towel. “Honey?”

“In the kitchen!” Aaron’s voice rings out, and you wrap a bathrobe around yourself before emerging from the bathroom into the dark hallway. You follow it to the kitchen, lighting the way with the flashlight on your phone.

And then the phone dies. Because, of course it does.

In true Boy Scout fashion, Aaron is shakily illuminated by a pocket flashlight that he holds between clenched teeth while he rummages through the junk drawer. “‘Ookin’ ‘or ‘ands’,” he says around it, and even though you don’t know what he’s saying it becomes obvious a moment later when he pulls out a few half-melted candles and a small box of matches.

“Here, let me.” You secure the robe and take the flashlight from his mouth, aiming it while he lights the candles. “What happened?”

“Probably blew a breaker, if no one else’s power is out. I’ll talk to the neighbours in the morning and take a look at the fuse box,” he promises. “Go get dressed. I made dinner.”

You kiss him, grateful as ever for his willingness to take care of the around-the-house dirty work that you could learn to do, but would rather not. “Be right back.”

When you come back to the kitchen a few minutes later fully dressed, Aaron is setting two plates down next to a deck of cards. “The chicken wasn’t finished cooking. I thought it would be better not to risk it,” he says guiltily, and you snicker when you see that the only thing on the plates are salad and mashed potatoes.

“Better safe than sorry,” you agree, turning off the flashlight that had led you back from the bedroom. “And the cards?”

“That’s what you do when the power is out.” He says it like it’s a simple fact, like the idea of reading a book by candlelight or doing any sort of individual activity during a power outage is a bad idea. “Crib, or crazy eights?”

“Hmm…” you tap your chin as if you’re in thought, basking equally in the warm candlelight glow and the smile he gives you. “My crib skills are pretty rusty. And you’re a sore winner.”

“I am not,” he laughs as he takes a bite of salad, “But fine. Crazy eights, it is.”

While he deals out cards and you eat, you take the opportunity to study his face. The angle of the light enunciates his age, highlighting wrinkles and crow’s feet that you’ve never noticed until now.

The laugh lines around his mouth are proof of a happy life- the happiest you can give him, at least- and you’re just thinking to yourself that he looks handsome like this, a little older, more distinguished, when he looks up and catches your gaze.

“What are you looking at?” He asks, chuckling as he picks up his cards. 

“You.” Your response is simple, blunt, and the endearing lift of one side of his mouth- the smile you’ve gotten intimately familiar with over several years- makes an appearance and makes you want to say, fuck the card game, and kiss him stupid until the lights turn back on. “You look good.”

“Yeah? Well, you…” And here he does what you’re thinking about doing, leaning over to capture your lips against his own in a chaste kiss, “look better and more beautiful every day. Cut the deck.”

You listen to instruction, flipping up one card to start the game, still entranced by the age on Aaron’s face. It’s impossible to know when he started to look like this, when those lines developed. In your mind’s eye, he’s still the boyishly handsome college senior who asked you out on your first day of junior year.

Maybe that’s what growing old- no, older, because you’re certainly not old and you aren’t too far behind him- is, you muse to yourself as you flip through the cards he’s dealt for you. 

Appreciating each other, loving each other through all of it, and- no matter his age, physically, mentally, or in experience- never losing sight of the boy you fell in love with.

The candles flicker on, and the game begins, and you think that you’re a little bit more in love than you were an hour ago.

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Fluffy Feb tags: @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb @iammirrorball @hausofwhores @allthefandomstogether @myweepingangel @hotched @spacecowboyhotch @chibsytelford @honeybrowne @formulapierre @nd264 @hotchnerxnegan1017 (send me a dm or ask to be tagged!)

[andreafmn]

Bound | Chapter 3

Word Count: 4.2K Warnings: implied/reference SA, torture, murder, bodily harm

Summary: Rosalie always carried the resentment of not being able to fulfill the image of the perfect family she had in her head. But the universe had set out to grant her everything she could've hoped for in the most unconventional way and in the form of a witch. Can their love withstand the promise of forever, or will Rosalie and (Y/N) succumb to the grapples of time?

A/N: well, we continue with Rosalie's revenge. Still one more chapter to go for the murder I am sure we are all waiting for. The next chapter will also be from Rosalie's "POV" since I want to show the parallel time frames for both the reader and Rose, and there's a time frame when nothing important is happening for Reader, but it does for Rose. I literally made an entire timeline to make sure things add up. Anywho, hope y'all enjoy! Also, I want to say to any and all survivors of SA that you are not alone and what happened to you is not your fault, it never will be. I hope you have healed or are healing. And if you ever just need an ear to listen, I am here. 🤍

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It was astounding how different two lives that were connected could look so different in the same time span. Whilst (Y/N) basked in the presence of her best friend, in their love and closeness, Rosalie was going back to the Cullen residence after taking the lives of two men, with no knowledge that the witch that would change her life was less than four hours away. Had life turned out any differently, that was the closest their souls would have been to meeting. So close, yet so far. 

Alas, neither knew of the existence of the other. Not yet, at least. 

The blonde was angsty with revenge. Her veins itched with the need to rid the earth of those demons, to make sure no other woman ever fell victim to their claws. Her entrails churned and tightened. She needed them gone in order to finally sit with her thoughts, to allow the weight of everything that had happened to her to sink down her body. 

“So you really killed them?” Edward’s voice broke through the silence of the room Carlisle had designated as hers days after the murders. “News is spreading about a psychotic killer that took the lives of the Hubert brothers. Essentially tortured them both without spilling a drop of blood. And apparently, some men have been receiving threatening letters from this killer.” 

“What do you want, Edward?” 

“Don’t you think it’ll serve you better just to move on? Killing those men will accomplish nothing in the long run,” he said. “Even if you think you’re ridding the world of these monsters, they will be replaced by three more. That’s the world we live in.” 

“Just because you can hear my thoughts doesn’t mean that you know me,” she spoke through gritted teeth. “If you’re here to stop me from going through with my plan, then I will save you time. Carlisle could not get me to desist, and you certainly would not be able to.” 

“I’m just saying, Rosalie. It won’t help you in the long run to take their lives. You’ll live with them in the back of your mind for eternity. It’s not an existence you’d want.” 

“This is already an existence I don’t want, Edward. And their faces are already embedded in my head because of what they did to me. They took everything I hold dear. They took everything from me! The least I can do is take their lives. And I certainly don’t need a morality course from you.” 

Edward’s words died in his throat at that moment, and Rosalie was thankful for that. The last thing she wanted was to listen to a man who thought he was better than everyone around him because he could hear their thoughts. It didn’t take long for her to figure him out. He believed he was above scrutiny. He was arrogant and entitled. And he made it all that easy to get over the fact that he did not find her attractive –not that she’d let him know. It was the thought that would protect everything she really felt.

“Well, then. If that is all, I will ask you to leave,” she smiled. “I have better things to do.” 

Rosalie had nothing to do, in reality. As she let fear fester in the other three men, she did not know what to do with her days. She couldn’t leave the house because she was meant to be missing. She felt no desire to do any of the things she loved. Not even work on the 1928 Series 341-A blue Cadillac Carlisle had bought her to fix up. The only thing she could do was grow the fear inside the surviving monsters. To make sure they were sleeping with one eye open as they awaited their reckoning. Once that was over, she truly did not know what she would do with her life after. 

What Rosalie did know was where Ulysses Levitt lived. 

The boy came from new money, but he thought he was larger than life. Everyone in town knew where his family’s money had come from, and it wasn’t through the most legal of methods. Still, they were untouchable. Their money and their reputation made sure of that. They were safe from humans. Safe from the law raining fire down on their house and their businesses. But it didn’t protect their child from an immortal beauty dressed in the finest clothes. It didn’t keep him from becoming the next name on her revenge list. 

It was still morning, but it was a cloudy day in Rochester, New York. The darkness in the sky cloaked the rains of the sun, allowing her to walk freely through the streets. Ulysses’ apartment was in the town center. And where it was usually bustling with people, barely a soul was walking the streets. The town was still reeling from the murdered Hubert brothers,  the case too important to fall into the pile of cases that littered the station. There was too much money and too much influence surrounding these murders, and they needed to be solved so the people of Rochester could sleep in peace at night. 

And they should have. But they did not know that the danger that lingered in their city was directed onto a very specific group of men –boys. Death had kissed the eyes of five men and had given Rosalie the power to execute Her will. If others got in her way… well, every war has its odd casualties. 

Ulysses was her prey, and she was ready to go hunting. 

In a sense, she pitied him. The boy had spent his entire life trying to belong. Old money mixed with new money like water and oil. It didn’t matter how much money his family had. It would never be enough to gain the same power the other families had. So, the boy –only a few years older than Rosalie– had done everything he could to fit in with the world around him. And when the events of that night were taking place, he had gone along with what his friends had told him to do. He had ravaged her body without her consent.  Still, the Levitt boy was the only one of the five who had not even been able to look her in the eyes when the deed was done. He was the quickest to finish and the first one to go. And she remembered that grain of mercy. 

But he had still done it. Ulysses Levitt was still the worst kind of monster. 

She would grant him the same amount of mercy when it came to his death, though. Rosalie would grant him a quick and clean death. Well, with a hint of taunting. What fun would it be to simply kill him? His death would be swift, but that had nothing to do with the foreplay. 

She wasn’t surprised when she found his apartment to be locked. An anxious Ulysses was talking to his father on the phone, asking if he had heard anything regarding the Hubert brothers’ killer. Telling the man that he was terrified about the threatening letters he had received and how he feared whoever had sent them would be true to their word.  Unbeknownst to him, she was standing right outside his door. Granted, they were looking for a him, and they were looking for a human. Two things she was not. 

Rosalie granted him the decency to end the phone call. For him to promise his father that he would call Mrs. Levitt later in the week. That he would go home on Friday for a family dinner. Things he would never get to do. But there were so many things she couldn’t do either. Not anymore. Because of him and his friends. 

Just like him and the Hubert boys, she would no longer be able to have dinner with her parents. She wouldn’t be able to take a stroll outside in the daytime, feel the sun warm her skin, or even breathe the fresh air. She wouldn’t be able to plant roots in any city she would live in. And she would never be able to have children or grow old –what she had wanted most in the world. Well, that and her beauty. The only thing she would have for eternity. 

But it was starting to taste bitter. Her beauty had gotten her everything, and her beauty had taken it all away. Still, she couldn’t dread on that just yet. Not until her job was done. 

When Ulysses hung up the phone, she knocked softly on his apartment door. The sound of the wood echoed deep inside her ears. She covered the peephole with her hand in case he decided to look through it and ruin the surprise. But a man like him had no fears. At least, not ones he knew of. 

“Hell… oh,” he choked. His eyes grew big, all the blood draining from his face. “Wha… how…?” 

He tried to close the door on her, but just by reaching her hand out, Rosalie stopped it. She wanted to laugh at how scared he looked. He tripped going backward, scrambling on the floor for something to defend himself with. “What’s wrong, Ulysses?” she smiled sweetly. “Cat got your tongue?” 

“Y-y-you were dead,” he stammered. “We… you were dead.” 

“And I still am,” she said. “Don’t worry, you’re not going crazy, nor do you see a ghost. I can confirm that I am very much here in your presence.” 

“B-but how? If you are dead, there’s no way you could be here. It’s not possible.” 

“There are so many unexplainable things in this world, Ulysses. My new and improved life is one of them,” she grinned, though the words tasted bitter in her mouth. She hadn’t improved. She didn’t even want that life. But, it gave her the upper hand. It gave her just enough power to end the ones that had given Doctor Cullen no other choice but to turn her into what she was –for her body not to be a waste. “But I won’t bore you with those details. We have other things to attend to… well, we is too many people. I have other things –people– to attend to.”

“You killed Andre and Buck,” he gasped silently. “It was you that murdered them that night. And the letters… oh my god, the letters were from you too.” 

“Guilty as charged,” Rosalie chuckled. “And after I am done with you, John and Royce will get what’s coming for them.”

Ulysses kept silent for a moment, his green eyes staring into the crimson red of hers. His heart had steadied, and his breathing was no longer sporadic. Somehow, being faced with inevitable death was calming him. “I deserve that,” he said. “So did the Huberts, and so do John and Royce. What we did to you was unforgivable, so I won’t stand here and apologize. I know what I took part in, and I know just how despicable my actions were. If someone had done that to my sister, I would have gone to the ends of the earth to make the ones who had done it pay. But, can I just ask for one thing?”  

“And what makes you think you are deserving of a last wish?” she questioned. “I surely did not receive that commodity.”  

“I know I am in no place to ask anything of you, nor do you have to grant me this request,”  Ulysses responded as silent tears fell down his cheeks. “But, my mother, she’s sick, and I know it will kill her to find me here. All I want is to write her a letter. Tell her I’ve left town too ashamed of where our family has made its money. When she calls tomorrow, and I don’t answer, she will surely come here and find the letter. Then, I ask that you hide my body where she will never find it.”  

“Why should I grant you this? What convolutes you into believing that you deserve that?” 

“I don’t.” 

His candor took Rosalie aback. All he wanted was to ease his mother’s pain because a runaway son was better than a dead one. And the look in his eyes, the way they pleaded without any more words, twisted something inside her. Maybe she was pitying the boy. Maybe she wished she could have done something like this for her own parents. Maybe it was the fact that he truly seemed to repent for his actions, unlike the empty apologies of Buck and Andre. 

“Alright,” she asserted. “I will grant you that request. For your mother’s sake.” 

With a sad smile, he scurried to his phone table. It took him maybe a minute or two to scribble down what he needed to say. Her eyes followed him as he packed away clothes and papers to make the lie even more believable. When he was done, it truly seemed like he was ready to journey out of New York rather than to the afterlife. 

“Okay,” he sighed, tears still streaming down his eyes. “I’m ready.” 

Rosalie stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She placed one hand on the back of his head and the other on his jaw. The coldness from her hands seemed to make him shiver, but other than that, he was as still as a statute. 

“May your god have mercy on your soul, Ulysses,” she whispered, her eyes trained intently into his. 

“Amen,” he seemed to say before the cracking of his neck filled the air. 

His body fell limp onto the floor, thudding against the wood. But it was done. His green eyes were now empty, and his chest no longer breathed. Wherever his soul was sent to, she wished it a safe voyage. 

The mere thought made her want to burst out in laughter. How she was wishing him a pleasant trip into the afterlife after what he had done. Even more, how she was fulfilling his last wish so that his mother could die with the hope that one day her son would come back. Those were the kinds of ironies the universe seemed to like to play. 

It wasn’t hard to disappear his body. Dirt in the cemetery had recently been overturned, and it was easy enough to lay his body to rest there. The name on top of the grave would not be his, but at least he had been buried. No family to sob over his corpse, no missing posters littering the town, no one to mourn over. It was clean. It was easy. And it was much more than he deserved. 

Rosalie discarded the suitcases in a garbage pile she walked by a week later on her way to the Cadillac Hotel, where John Harris was probably nursing a glass of whiskey in his room, packing his bags to head back home to Atlanta. Unfortunately, he would not return home to his money and family. He wanted to leave his mark in Rochester, and she would make sure it was a corporal statement. 

Getting into the hotel was easy. As the day transitioned into night, more and more people trickled into the bar, hoping to settle their nerves while a killer ran free in their city. Unknowingly, that same killer walked amongst them in a place they thought they were safe in. And they were, technically. There was only one man amongst them who should have been trembling in his shoes, terrified of all she could do –all she would do. 

She spotted him across the bar, trying his luck with a couple of girls not much older than her. And it irked her that he was not as scared for his life as he should have been. But they were paying him no mind. Thankfully, in there, they were safe. He was alone, and there were too many people around to reveal the monster that lay dormant beneath his skin. After they said no too many times and laughed in his face, he left his glass on the mahogany counter and headed for the elevators. 

Rosalie thought she would lose him, but his scent had already permeated her nostrils, and she could hear the gears of the elevator clanking to a stop on the third floor. She sped up the stairs, quick enough to see him sway into room 314 and hear him lock the door behind him. Not that it would help him in any way, but he would open the door willingly. 

The vampire ensured the coast was clear before she knocked on his door, standing just out of sight from the peephole. 

“Who is it?” he called from the other side. 

“It’s Clara,” she spoke in a higher pitch of voice. “Thought I would take you up on your offer after all.”

“I knew you’d change your mind,” he chuckled. “You girls always do.” 

“Well, I couldn’t give you the wrong impression of us Rochester girls.” 

“Sounds good, darling,” he said as the door clicked open. “Hel…” 

His voice died in his throat as Rosalie pushed him inside. She sped until his body slumped against the armchair, and the light could hit her face. “Hello, John.” 

“You’re… you’re… not…” 

“I’m not Clara,” she grinned deviously. “Luckily, she was able to escape your disgusting claws. You get me for the night instead.” 

“No, no, no!” John stammered. “You’re dead. I saw you… on the street. You were dead.” 

“I’m honestly getting tired of people saying that,” she laughed dryly. “I am dead –in a sense. My heart is not beating, my lungs are not breathing, and my appetite… well, let’s just say it’s out of this world.” 

“W-what do you w–want? I’ll give you anything,” he pleaded. Tears fell down his eyes, and it made her scoff.  “Please, I am a good man.” 

“It’s hard to say with all those clothes on,” she grinned. “How could you ever measure the caliber of a person with a simple look? Especially when your vision is shielded with so many pieces of clothing.” 

“I’m sorry I said that,” he cried. “I was drunk and off my head. I promise I have never done anything like that before.” 

“Somehow, I highly doubt that, John. See, you paint me as the type of man that takes what he wants when he wants it, regardless of who you hurt. You take, and you take until you are satiated and leave others to deal with the aftermath of your actions. You took everything you wanted from my body and left me there to rot on that street.” 

“And I know how wrong it was of us,” he rambled. “But we were drunk out of our minds, and we weren’t thinking straight. We should have come back for you. At the very least, we should have left you at the hospital.” 

“You shouldn’t have touched me in the first place,” Rosalie spat. “You should have let me go home to my family. You should have allowed my marriage to go through. You should have let me have the life that I deserved. Instead, you took everything from me.” 

“Then, tell me what to do to fix this. Please, I know I can fix this.” 

Rosalie smiled, unable to shed tears of anger. There was something he had to do, but it would not spare his life. No. It would only gift him with a few seconds more. “What you will do is pick up that phone,” she said, pointing at the ivory-white device. “You will call your pal, Royce. And you will warn him that someone is coming for him. That somehow, a man found out what you did to me and is picking you all off one by one. You will tell him that he should hide. To burrow himself in the deepest corner he can muster. And then, you will hang up.” 

“And after, will you spare me?” John questioned, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

“Oh, John, of course not,” she laughed melodiously. “But I’m saving Royce for last, and I want his death to be delicious. At least make my death count for something.” 

“W-what if I called the police instead? They will tear down this door and stop you.” 

“I’d be long gone before they even had a chance to step foot into the hotel. And you’d still be dead as well as Royce. Because, thanks to your brutality, I have become faster and stronger than any human in existence. I am invincible, John. Something I wasn’t that night. So, pick up that phone and call your friend before I lose my patience and snap your neck earlier in the schedule.” 

With trembling hands, John lifted the receiver from the stand, rotating in the number she dictated. She could see the beads of sweat that were forming on his forehead; she could hear the way his heart beat frantically; she could almost feel the way his bones rattled inside his skin. It was an addictive feeling. The power she had over him, and she didn’t even have to move a muscle. All she required was the way she looked and the words she spoke. Maybe that was why they had done it. Simply because they could. 

“Oh, hello, Mrs. King,” John said as the other line picked up, panic deeply laced into his words. “Yes, it’s John. I just had some quick words to say to Royce… I did hear about the Huberts. Such a shame… I didn’t know that Ulysses ran away… Yes, maybe one day… Yeah, I don’t have much time. Is Royce there…? Of course. Thank you, Mrs. King.” 

Rosalie listened to every syllable he spoke, making sure he did not step out of script. She wanted to terrify Royce King with an invisible threat. She wanted him to feel like he was being watched –like he was being hunted. She wanted him to cower into despair, even if only for a few hours. She wanted him to feel weak. 

“Listen, Royce,” John’s voice spoke again. “I don’t have much time. But someone found out about Rosalie just like we thought… I don’t know how, but they are picking us off one by one… He tried to get me tonight, man… Listen, just… you have to hide, okay? Find someplace secluded and stay there until shit dies down… Ulysses didn’t leave, Royce. He’s dead… Just hide. Tonight!” 

The receiver hit the base with a loud pang, and John’s gaze fell back on Rosalie. The devilish smile she wore made his insides shiver; she could perceive that much. He looked frail and weak. Nothing like the monster that had ravaged her body without her consent. The creature that had used fangs and claws to take from her something that she was not giving. 

“Good,” she applauded. “It’s nice to see a man that can follow instructions. Now, John. This won’t be messy, but it will be rather slow. And I’ll tell you exactly how I’m going to do it.” 

“God, please, just spare me. Royce is the one that you want,” he begged, falling onto his knees before her. “He’s the one that should have protected you. Please, just let me go back home.” 

“Do you think I can go home, John? Did any of you spare me and grant me the mercy of going home?” she asked through gritted teeth. “You didn’t. No. You took my life into your hands and watched as, minute by minute, it drained and slipped from your fingers. And that’s exactly how you’re going to go, John. I will wrap my cold, dead hands around your throat and cut out your life source until there is nothing left. I will look into your eyes until your soul leaves your body. And I will make sure I am the last face you ever stare at on this earth.” 

John scrambled backward on the armchair. The piece of furniture clattered onto the ground as the man made a futile attempt to escape to his balcony. There was nowhere he could go. No one he could call.

“You can’t do this!” he wailed. “Not to me. You can’t do this to me!” 

“Don’t you get it? The time for clamoring is over, John. Now, say your goodbyes to the world.” 

In an instant, Rosalie stood before him. Her pale hands wrapped around his neck, just as she had described. He tried to claw at them, to hurt her enough to run. But his nails were met with stone-like skin –impenetrable. He could not even move his head at the grip she held him with. Only his arms and legs could reach for a desperate attempt at freedom. Something that would never come. 

She knew it hadn’t taken long. But time seemed to have slowed as she watched the colors change on the man’s face. Her fingers barely squeezed, but his skin turned an array of reds and purples until it finally paled. And she swore she could tell the second his soul finally left his body. His eyes turned lifeless right before her own. They had emptied themselves, confirming the void that had been created inside of his body. There were no more pleas, no more tears, no more anger. He was simply another body. And just like he had done to her, Rosalie left his body on the ground for someone else to find. 

He wasn’t the death that would satiate her. No. Royce was on his way to dig his own grave. He just didn’t know it yet.

Next ->

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[finniestoncrane]

28. Arkham Riddler! "Tell me you love me." He's had it with hero!readers shit and getting pissed off. TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM BEFORE HE POPS OFF AND BLOWS UP THE CITY OR SOMETHING.

ok omg this one was hard because i honestly can't imagine having to be forced to tell arkham!ed that i love him, it would be harder for him to get me to stop because he is baby (also ty ily omg vanity my bb pls everyone stop reading my trash and go read hers)

Tell Me You Love Me, Arkham!Riddler x Hero!Reader, word count: 688 (just a lil ficlet, a baby if you will)

request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 sfw, no big warnings

“You have…” you watched as the Riddler, standing in front of you on the roof of the apartment building you were on, checked his watch. “…just over three minutes to say it.”

“Well then, we’ll die together in three minutes and take a lot of innocent people with us.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the hero?” He chuckled lightly, scoffing at your callous attitude.

“I suppose… but you’ve underestimated just how strongly I dislike you.”

“Oh, you’re seriously testing my patience! How hard could it be to just admit it!?”

“Because I’m not willing to lie in order to inflate your ego.”

Ed raised an eyebrow at you, his face screaming ‘seriously?’. You took a moment to reflect as the timer he held ticked down with irritating, pulsing little beeps. Of every villain you had encountered so far in your desperate bid to at least chisel away at Gotham’s crusted layer of crime and tragedy, from a low level thief to extravagantly dangerous rogues, Edward Nygma had so far proved to be the worst. Not in action or methods, far from it actually. He was handsome, oddly muscular and with a unique and intriguing smile. Charming, somehow, beyond his grating need to turn everything into a puzzle, a challenge. And his irritating self-confidence and boastful nature only inspired some awkward feelings of reverence and a desire for him to pat you on the head and tell you that you were clever for finally catching him.

“Time’s ticking! Are you ready to admit I was right yet? I mean, I always am. I’m The Riddler for God’s sake.”

“I can’t! It’s not my job. It’s the antithesis of it, actually.”

“Oh, what a fancy word! I’m surprised that someone dumb enough to let themselves and hundreds of others die in a horrific explosion would have been too stupid to know what that meant.”

You scowled at him, but he offered a softer smile than usual in return. There was no unpleasant undertones of mockery or self-importance. It was sincere.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to admit it. But then again, you’d be the laughing stock of the city, never trusted again among your peers. What kind of hero falls for the villain? A weak one. One that can’t be trusted to do their job right. But if they knew him like you did. If they’d spent the time you had learning about him, conversing with him, basking in his charm, his humour, and his intelligence. Would they understand a bit better? Or, more likely, would they come to the conclusion that he was in fact more of a nuisance than they originally though and come after you both with fire and pitchforks.

“Listen, Riddler…Eddie. I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“No, you can. You shouldn’t, maybe. But that’s a whole other matter. You know I’m right.”

“Even if you did, I doubt much good would come of it.”

“Ah, that’s a risk we take though. And what is life without some risks, some challenges?”

You looked at him, deep into his eyes for the right answer, since he seemed to always have it.

“Time’s almost up. Just say it. Stop trying to play games with me, to best me. I know it, and I know that somewhere in that silly little brain of yours you know it too. It’s impossible to miss the signs, and I’m growing tired of your attempts at ignoring them, and me. Now quickly. Tell me you love me.”

You watched as the timer ticked down, quicker than seconds usually passed, six, five, four, three…

“I love you!”

He didn’t move, and the timer continued. You squeezed a few more out in the last remaining seconds of your life and his, and the hundreds below you in their beds or watching tv, blissfully unaware.

“Ed! I love you! I love you! I LOVE YOU!”

Zero.

Nothing.

You opened your eyes, which had instinctively but uselessly scrunched close to protect themselves from the blast. Ed was smiling at you, a smug, self-satisfied grin spread across his face.

“I knew it. I’m right. I’m always right.”

[unbiasedarmy]

ℋ𝓊ℯ𝓈 ℴ𝒻 ℐ𝓃𝒹𝒾ℊℴ ₊˚.༄

❀ ✿ ❁ ✾

Namjoon has left me in a puddle of emotions as his solo album finally dropped last night. #Indigo Having felt such deep emotions, I couldn’t help the inspiration that grew from within and led to me creating my own little piece of Indigo.

But while I was in the process of painting in all of these different shades of blue, an intrusive thought crept into my mind… What if Namjoon walked into my room with a super heart warming smile on his face cause he loved my painting…

Aaaaand now we’ve got a little drabble because I couldn’t let this beautiful, comforting thought go to waste. :) I hope that you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. 💙

✿ミ★♡︎⁂𑁍☆彡❀༄✧♥︎𖧷❄︎☾彡⁂❁

~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.

It has been longer than I would like to admit since I felt that creative pull to start a painting. So long in fact, I had actually forgotten what that spark of inspiration felt like. That is until last night.

I really wasn’t doing anything special, I was hanging out with some friends, grabbing a couple drinks when I realized that RM’s new solo album would be dropping at midnight. Once that realization dawned on me, I was so giddy and excited that I set an alarm for midnight immediately. After that, I resumed catching up with my friends as I waited for the moment that I could experience that deep color blue.

Flash forward to midnight, I am quite literally skipping with glee out onto the patio to be clear of all the noise from within the bar, waiting with baited breath for the first song to play. (Absolutely not grinning like a mad person, could never be me…) Thankfully for me, after trying to listen to the first two songs from the album, my friends had decided to call it a night, and after bidding them goodbye, I hopped right in my car and cranked the volume as Change pt. 2 began to play.

Having a wonderful jam session filled with soul, sadness, sexuality, peace, and chaos, I finally arrived home with this feeling of completion. With my endorphins flowing freely, thinking of the sheer pride I carry for the man who put out his heart and soul for the whole world to see, I decided to call it a night (but not before putting the new album on repeat of course).

⁂☆彡☾☁︎︎༄✩ミ★☁︎︎༻⁂☽☁︎︎༺✧

As my alarm goes off the next morning I bask in the morning light and the after glow of the previous night, unable to kick this need to create something. It was like an itch that needed to be scratched. And so, scratch I did.

Once I was ready for the day, I finally decided to pull out all of my art supplies, cringing inwardly at the amount of dust that had gathered on top of everything. As I get my mini easel set up on my bed, I cannot get Lonely out of my head, so I decide to que up the playlist I had already created: 🧵🐋🌏🦋🌧️

I grin to myself with excitement for what is yet to come, ready to create something with so much meaning, not just for me, but for so many people around the world. As the music plays in the background I hum along to the parts I’ve already committed to memory, and listen openly to the parts I have not as I get several different shades of blue prepped for my painting.

I decide to create something simple, since there is already so much meaning behind just the color alone, the painting itself didn’t need to be complex in order for it to make sense. At least not for me, and this is a painting I wanted to keep. I take my brush and run it through the darkest blue first, nearly black, like the color of an abyss.

With the music so loud, I didn’t even hear the front door open, or close, nor did I notice when a large man walked down the hallway to the open doorway of my bedroom, leaning there quietly. Only when I’m about to dip my brush into a lighter shade of blue do I notice his relaxed frame standing there as he watches me. Once I realize he’s there I nearly jump out of my skin, a blush immediately beginning to overtake my cheeks, flooding down my neck in a blotchy trail of pink and red.

“Oh, hi! I uhm, didn’t hear you come in.” I speak once I’ve turned down the music significantly, fiddling with my paintbrush with a sheepish grin.

There’s a smirk that quirks up the corner of his lip for just a moment, realizing the effect he has on you, before it’s replaced with eyes filled with wonderment.

“Yeah, that music was pretty loud, huh? Must be pretty good whatever it is..” He trails off with a cheeky grin, putting his fingers to his chin as if to contemplate whose music you were listening to.

I couldn’t even scold him for being so witty when my mind was filled with all of the praises that were nearly falling off of my tongue.

“Namjoon.. The album is.. Beautiful. And that in itself is such an understatement, you really, truly, put your heart and soul into it and it’s so evident in your lyrics, your flow, just everything. It’s perfect. I’m so proud of you.”

A shy smile begins to form over his lips as he walks over to you, still sat on the bed, taking a seat next to you. His eyes scan your painting and it’s hard to decipher what he’s thinking. Until he tells you of course.

“This, is beautiful y/n. These colors are so vibrant. And it looks like you really captured that feeling of drowning in the abyss but swimming towards the light. When did you make this?”

I feel my heart swell and my eyes begin to water at the unexpected praise, making me bite my lips to try to keep my composure.

“I started it this morning, I just couldn’t shake this feeling of inspiration and creativity after listening to your album last night. You made me feel so many feelings. And I guess I wanted to do the same, even if this particular piece of art will be kept within these walls.” I finish speaking with a smile as I recall all of the different emotions Indigo has made me feel.

Taking a glance at you before he focuses back on the painting he just sits there, like he’s admiring a work of Van Gogh. There’s a comfortable silence that settles before he turns to you fully, gently placing one hand on your cheek and one on your waist.

“This is one of the most beautiful pieces of art I have ever laid eyes on. It’s been so long since you’ve painted and I am honored to be your muse. I want to get a frame for it as soon as it’s finished, I wanna take a picture of it for the whole world to see.” He punctuates his deep feelings by pulling you closer, nudging his nose against yours, looking deep into your eyes with his own dragon like ones.

As I look into his eyes which are like two unending pools of emotion, my cheeks feel warm once again. I shyly wrap my arms around his neck, snuggling closer to him.

“What could I have done in my past life to deserve such an amazing man like you, Junie?” I whisper, feeling like if I speak too loudly he’ll be blown away, like a dream fading away far too quickly.

At this he leans closer, barely pressing his lips against mine, but just close enough that I can feel them curve into the shape of a beautiful smile, one that is sure to make his cheeks dimple.

“You know, I was going to ask you the same exact thing..” He speaks quietly before slowly pulling back to move the paint supplies and painting off of the bed.

Once the bed is cleared off Namjoon kicks off his shoes and gently lays me down with him, side by side, my head resting on his chest as he slips his legs between mine. We both release a deep sigh in sync with each other, resulting in us both breaking out in a fit of giggles. The kind that makes your cheeks hurt. But once the laughter dies down I gaze up at him, feeling nothing but peace.

As he peers back down at me he runs his fingers through my hair, making me all the more relaxed, causing a lopsided smile to appear on my face as I’m transfixed on his beautiful features.

“Namjoon-ie, you’re so beautiful..”

Hearing this compliment, he can’t resist the smile that invades his features. He shakes his head ever so slightly before speaking.

“No baby, that’s you. My beautiful y/n.” His voice sounds more husky as sleep threatens to take over, but he fights it off by planting a gentle kiss to your lips.

I smile against his soft, full lips, unable to contain my happiness as butterflies invade my stomach. Our lips move together very slowly, like we have all the time in the world. Yet like there’s no tomorrow. Finally pulling back from a kiss that I can only imagine feels like heaven, I bury my face in his chest with a small grin.

This makes him chuckle as he continues to play with your hair. He then places another kiss to the top of your head, pulling your body closer to his.

“I think that your painting is so cool babe, I seriously can’t wait to frame it and post it on Insta.”

I can’t help but giggle as he continues to gush over my painting. I decide to take a peak up at him with a questioning brow.

“You really think it’s that good..?” I ask hesitantly.

His mystical eyes meet mine before he speaks with the most genuine smile.

“I know it’s that good, love. I think ARMYs will absolutely love it. But we have to keep it here, I wanna keep it.” He finishes with a small pout.

I lean up and kiss his pouted lips before reassuring him.

“No worries, I actually painted that for myself. To remind myself that when I’m in those dark times, that there will always be light at the end, and that I just have to keep swimming towards that light.”

He seems satisfied with that answer as he simply rests his head on top of yours with a small nod, snuggling closer to you. He then places one final kiss on your forehead, bidding you goodnight and wishing you the sweetest dreams.

~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.~*•.

Okayyyyyyy! I just want everyone who reads this to know that this is my first ever drabble! I have tried to write novels in the past, but I’ve never done like a one scenario kind of situation so I really hope that if you read it, you enjoyed it! But if you didn’t I am 100% open to any constructive advice you all have for me!

Either way though, thank you so much for giving this little read a chance, and I hope if nothing else it gave you the same comfort that it gave me to write it! 💙 . ♡︎ Much love ♡︎

[alynnl]

Dance of the Automaton cleared! (Triangle Strategy)

Two attempts.  That’s all it took for me to clear the final map.  Going by my “number of tries” metric, this makes it officially Easier than Galdera, the Fallen One. (That took me six.)

First, gameplay commentary! 

Oh my God.  The Heirophant was terrifying as an opponent!  That one skill where she is able to just smite your teammates with Aelfric.  That was so unfair it was nigh game breaking!  And then you have mages with thunder magic ready and willing to ruin your day too.  Not happy fun times, not at all.  My first attempt was an outright massacre.  But then my second attempt I was more careful in keeping a good distance, using healing items like they’re candy, and overall just taking the slow and steady approach to the maps.

Once I whittled down the numbers to just the Heirophant though, she was easy to take down.  I also thought it was suitable that Frederica dealt the last blow to the puppet.  Her speech at the end was pretty epic too.

I do like how Geela and Corentin (who are from Hyzante) comment on how their own research was used to create such an abomination.  I have a feeling if I had Medina and Milo in the party they would’ve had something to say but there simply wasn’t enough spots!

But yes.  Only two tries and the map was beat...

But again, I ask, at what cost?

Which leads me to the story commentary!

At what cost indeed.

At first it seems like everything is going well after Hyzante’s defeat.  it’s only right that their false teachings are no longer carried out and that the Roselle don’t have to toil at the source anymore.  And then giving the salt crystals to the people seems like it would be the right thing to do.

(I’m unsatisfied that Gustadolph basically pulled a Karma Houdini in all this and didn’t get any comeuppance whatsoever for starting the first war and having Dragan killed.  Again, I thought Svarog was going to rebel against him for revenge, but instead he uses his son’s inventions to make a weapon of mass destruction!)

And then more reveals...

Much like what I know of Aesfrost itself, there is a clear divide between the rich and poor in this new Norzelia that Benedict and Serenoa have created.  Also... for all the fondness and adoration that Frederica and Serenoa once spoke with when they were on their journey, there was a distance between them that I noticed.  I know that Frederica is not happy with what’s happened to the Roselle (who struggle in the new society), and she seems more or less resigned to remain with Serenoa and watch as her people suffer more.  These two both became colder as a result of the world they created.

I can’t help but think that I accidentally threw away the Golden Ending for probably the Worst Ending!

“You Live but you become calloused.”

That’s a little too close to real life.

And then who’s helping the needy who feel left out in the new Norzelia?

None other than Roland of course.

Except it seems like he’s going to use the people’s dissatisfaction as a means to fan the flames of rebellion!  And he’s allied with the remainders of Hyzante’s faith, no less.

As interesting as all this is, it’s kind of... well?  A Pyrrhic Victory of sorts?  Like, I fought my way through some very difficult maps and then All Is Not Well in the End.  I guess that is to be expected in a game with a darker tone, but even FF Tactics had some form of hope in the ending and that game had a very dark atmosphere!

 If you were to ask me though, I am still glad I picked this game up, regardless.  The plot, characters, gameplay, music, and ... everything else that makes up the whole package was not only worth my money, but also worth my time.  It has been equal parts fun and frustrating diving into it every evening, and now at last, I can say I have completed one route!

Will I dive headlong into the others using New Game+?

Right this moment, it’s too early to tell.

But for now, I’ll bask in my gameplay victory, knowing that at least, my abilities in S-RPGS are in fact, more solid than I gave myself credit for.

[violentivy]

Day 1: Photo 1.  REEL FEELS 1 of 365

A bitch needed a project.  It’s me, I’m a bitch! 

Stream of consciousness blog entry to follow!

As I sit here listening to the brilliant album my son released today, I am reminded of the fact that I have not, in quite some time, taken on an artistic project outside of video.  Think of this like a bereal, but I’m the only one doing it.

As far as I know.

But you get an additional journal entry.

Something broke in me a few days ago.  I haven’t been able to get a handle on my feelings of affection.  I just feel like I have to tell everyone how I feel about them.  Luckily for the most part I’ve chosen people who at least kind of sort of get that I’m an odd bird.

Sadly, I don’t have that many people in my life that I can trust to tell them how I actually feel about a thing.

and that’s a first.  Not a first I want to be a trend.  I have a lot of feelings and they are big.  People get sick of me talking.

I am too much for a lot of people.  I am always going to be, at my core, too much.

Some people are ok with my too muchness.  My friends from work, my two besties that I don’t talk to outside of work for the most part.

These are my people.  These are the people I would like to attract.  But, I’d like to be able to spend time with them outside of work.  That’s my only critique

My too muchness can be traced back to the first time my mother paid attention to me at the grocery store after summarily disregarding me when I would ask for things.

Then, I realized that if I tap danced in front of something in the goofiest and loudest way possible, Mom paid attention and LAUGHED.

My Mom didn’t laugh a lot in my memory.  She didn’t do a lot of things in my memory.

Which is part of why we are here now.

This REEL FEELS project to serve as an reminder to myself to check in and allow my big stupid feelings to come out of me before I end up professing my undying love to a toaster or some shit.

I feel deeply alone.  I feel like the whole world has told a joke and I am not in on the punchline.  I don’t know that I need to know what the joke is, nor the punch line so long as we aren’t all laughing at ME.  I mean, you can laugh at me but please don’t do so in a mean way...

Too much.

I know.  I’ve heard that before.  Tell me before I become a problem.

As yet another fucking tear falls out of my face over wasted interactions that I do not comprehend.  If only I were competent at reading emotions over text.

When in person and the energy is wrong, I run for the hills.  And his was WRONG for the interaction I expected but right for so many other reasons.

but I’ve given up, because I became too much.

At least I’m guided and protected.  At least nothing will harm me.  I didn’t cross any lines, YET.  But my energy and emotion is becoming too big and will swallow me whole by the time you read these lines.

And the beams come out through words from my fingers typed, and emotions felt.  But I don’t want to scare anyone.

Gods forbid.

I’m sick of it.  I’m sick of always being too much for everyone.  but really honestly and truly guys I am this excited about everything.  I am this hype about seeing my friends, and hearing songs I recognize on someone else’s radio, and the world when it’s green, and brown, and white...  and when I stood with him for a half an hour watching the snow...

and I have all of these feelings that I can’t express.  but how could you not feel the magic there.  The energy thick, expectant.  I thought at least 30 times he was going to turn and kiss me.

It’s been a year, and I still remember the way every goosebump stood taught in the tension of the moment.

I live for that tension.  I bask in the discomfort.  As long as I know I am safe, and my friends got me.  and they don’t mind my muchness in that moment.

Some days I get so excited I just want to throw my arms around myself, and my friends.  Especially my friends.

Not everyone is ok with that and I am ok that they aren’t.  Consent is important and no is a sentence.

Being asked is nice, and can be much nicer if it’s done correctly.  

I view my too muchness like a penis.  It’s fine to have one and wag it about if people want to see it, but good gods man, put that shit away, have some modesty.

and I believe I will not exceed that line above tonight no matter what I say so, let me just leave this here.  

And let me know if you’re gonna follow this.  Let’s use tag #Reel Feels