#but ime learning to move past them before they sink in deeper

[iftitah]

i think im getting better at living in the moment

[nerdyfangirl67]

One and One and One Makes Three - NCIS Reader Insert

Pairing: Gibbs x fem!reader

Warnings: pregnant reader, pregnancy symptoms, age gap between reader and Gibbs, mentions of anxious/nervous feelings, fluff! (Wow! It's been a while)

Word count: 1104

Request: anonymous “can i request an “im pregnant” au with gibbs?? And how good father he is!!”

A/N: I know you requested an au, which in my head means a headcannon, but this idea is actually in my list of fics to write 😉, so I decided to give you a one-shot😁 Enjoy!!

It feels like your whole body is jittering as you wait in front of the small vanity in your bathroom. The cheerfully bright pink and white pregnancy test sitting on the marbled countertop is the only thing keeping you from knowing whether your life had just changed forever. Or rather, the three minutes until the test is complete is all that stands between you and the unknown.

You start drumming your fingertips along the edge of the porcelain sink, trying desperately to find some way to release your anxious energy without somehow catching the attention of your NCIS agent husband, who was known for knowing exactly what was going on at all times. The drumming of your fingers turns into tapping your feet which leads to you nervously hopping around the small bathroom, trying to distract yourself from the seconds that are slowly ticking by.

As you impatiently wait, your energy pouring out into short, vigorous strides as you pace the length of the bathroom, you can’t help but wonder what a baby would do to your life, to Jethro’s life, and the life the two of you shared together.

You hadn’t thought that children were ever going to be in the cards for you. At first, you’d thought that it was because you hadn’t found the right guy, only stumbling upon Jethro after years of dating one wrong guy after the other. In fact, you’d only met Jethro because the guy you were supposed to be meeting for a blind date stood you up. Your frustration and disappointment had led you to the ice cream aisle in the grocery store, where upon leaving, you’d accidentally bumped in a certain silver-haired, blue eyed man. You had apologized profusely, even insisting on buying the man’s groceries (a sparse selection of items that made up a bachelor’s dinner if you’d ever seen one). He had quietly refused and before you could even protest, he was asking you out to dinner that night. You had said yes without thinking, something within you calling you to get to know this man.

Then, as the two of you moved forward in the relationship, you hadn’t thought much about children because Jethro was a good twelve years older than you. You figured he’d had the chance and decided not to go that route in life.

Then, you’d learned about Shannon and Kelly and you’d buried deep within yourself that part of you that had started fantasizing about having a little boy or girl with Jethro. You couldn’t ask that of him knowing he’d lost his first, his only, child and had effectively closed the door on that part of his life. You wouldn’t ask him to confront the demons that came with having a second child that lived long past the life of his first.

As you fell deeper in love with Jethro, you began to view your dwindling chance at children as something of a sacrifice to keep Jethro in your life. It hurt, but the thought of living life without him, after you’d seen just how great life was with him, hurt more. So you threw yourself into the lives of the children around you, the number of nieces and nephews (many of them honorary) making it easy. You attended plays and concerts, ball games and parties, and freely offered up your babysitting services to all of your friends. And although Jethro raised a few eyebrows at the number of events you went to for the children in your life, he never asked why you’d started throwing yourself whole-heartedly into their lives.

A loud beep echoes throughout the bathroom, pulling you from the downward spiral your mind had been sucked into. You take a deep, slow breath before looking at the test. Two faint pink lines stare back at you, ripping the breath away from your lungs.

Positive.

In an instant, a new life flashes before your eyes...

Tiny hands grasping your finger.

Bright blue eyes staring up at you.

Tottering steps taken towards outstretched hands.

A small body cradled between you and Jethro as Jethro whispers fantastical nighttime stories of dragons and knights in shining armor.

Chocolate chip pancakes and Saturday morning cartoons. Ball games in the yard, little feet chasing after a wayward ball as Jethro’s rich laughter fills the air.

You realize with a start that you’re crying, the tears rolling down your cheeks, the pregnancy test long since forgotten on the bathroom floor. The need to tell Jethro seizes you and you’re up off the bathroom floor and into the hallway before you even have time to process what you’re doing.

“Jethro?” You call, your voice echoing out in the lowly lit house. He doesn’t answer, so you head towards the basement. The steeps creak as you make your way down into the cool basement, the heavy smell of wood calming your nerves even before you make it to the bottom.

“Jethro?” You ask, standing awkwardly at the bottom of the steps as your eyes scan over the room.

A head appears from behind the wood planks of a half finished boat, the yellow light making his silver hair shine. “Y/N? Is everything okay?” His voice is rough as he steps around the front of the boat and closes the space between the two of you. His hands are outstretched, reaching for your face as he wipes away the remaining tears with his fingers. “What’s wrong Y/N?” He asks quietly, his blue eyes searching yours for some sort of answer.

“I’m-we’re…” You stumble over the words, another lump rising in your throat as you try to form a proper sentence. “I’m pregnant Jethro.” You whisper, your gaze dropping to the floor as anxiety rises in your chest. You had no way of knowing what he would say, after all, you’d avoided the topic your entire relationship with him.

A warm, rough hand slides down your cheek, to your jaw as he delicately lifts your chin until you’re looking at him. “You’re what?”

“I’m pregnant.” The words are a little easier to say the second time but the look in his eyes prevents you from saying any more. He stares at you a beat longer, his ice blue eyes boring into yours, the emotional tides within them threatening to pull you under. Then, his arms are wrapped around you, bringing you in close, his lips pressing a faint kiss to your temple.

“Best news I’ve heard all day.” He murmurs and you let out a laugh of relief as you lift your lips up to his, giving him a long kiss.

“Me too.”

Tagging:

@madamsnape921 @fanfictionwr1tin @thisiscalm-andits-doctor@leroyjethrogibbsgirl @captainxholmes @wolviesbabes​ @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​ 

[fandomlit]

neutral, chap. 6 (dream smp x reader)

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary technoblade leaves the next morning, turning tommy and y/n back to their usual business of bow work and baking. but tommy lets his usual curiosity get the best of him and questions y/n about the war, leading to a solemn result and revealing some terrible truths.

warnings mentions of war, death, and murder

previous | series masterlist | next

gif cred belongs to @herobrine​

tommy woke up late the next morning, which he presumed was understandable. he had stayed up late last night talking with y/n and technoblade, watching as they laughed and reminisced about the past, enlightening tommy with old tales and teases. he appreciated that they had made sure to include him in the conversation, but he couldn’t help but feel.. invasive. the two were obviously very close..

that thought was only further proven to him when he made his way to the kitchen in the morning. he was met with the smooth sound of y/n humming, and when he peeked into the room, he saw her smiling as she braided back technoblade’s long hair. tommy didn’t speak a word, fearing interrupting the seemingly intimate moment.

but y/n, without looking up, had noticed him. “good morning, tommy.”

he cleared his throat, stepping fully into the kitchen. techno, who had had his eyes closed in peace, opened one to glance at the kid. “morning.”

“there are some berry muffins left warming in the oven if you’d like,” she hummed, still working intently on braiding the hybrid’s pink hair. tommy immediately perked up at the mention of food.

“berry muffins, you say?”

y/n smiled. “i’ll teach you to make them, if you’d like.”

tommy picked the remaining couple muffins out of the warm oven as he considered her words. “sure.”

“how much have ya learned to cook, tommy?” techno asked him as he took a bite out of the delicious muffin. tommy shrugged.

“not too much,” he answered. “i can make steak, potatoes, pork chops, cookies, and pumpkin pie. enough to hold my own, i think.” y/n nodded.

“well, that’s another thing you’re learnin’ from the best,” techno sighed, offering y/n his hairband as she reached the end of his long hair. “y/n’s a great cook.”

y/n just shrugged. “well, kinda back to our topic last night, it’s a nomad thing i picked up. you travel around so much, you learn a lot of different recipes from a lot of interesting people.”

“do you miss it?” tommy spoke through a mouthful of muffin.

“don’t speak with your mouth full, tommy,” she scolded with a laugh, placing her hands on techno’s broad shoulders after tying his hair. “but..” she shrugged. “sometimes. i miss all that i got to learn and experience, but i know i’ll find my way back out there one day. for right now, im satisfied staying here and helping people out. especially people with long, pink hair who can’t manage a tight braid to save their life.”

techno looked over his shoulder at her as tommy let out a loud laugh. “i know you’re jokin’, but that one hurt.” she laughed, squeezing his shoulders before moving away to pour tommy a glass of milk.

as tommy began to scarf down another muffin, technoblade checked the small, golden clock he kept in his pocket. “i should get goin’. i told phil i’d be back by sunrise tomorrow.”

“alright,” y/n nodded as she placed the glass of milk in front of tommy. the boy thanked her as technoblade stood from his seat. “your axe should be cooled by now, let me go check.” he nodded as she scurried out of the room.

there was a moment of awkward silence before tommy gulped down some milk and spoke, “so, how’s phil?”

“good,” techno spoke plainly. another awkward silence filled the bright kitchen.

“.. does he ever talk about me?”

techno didn’t even flinch. “yeah. a lot.”

tommy glanced up at the hybrid. “really?”

techno nodded, considering what to say as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “listen kid.. i know you’ve made this place a sort of home for ya, and that you and y/n have formed a close bond..” techno sighed. “but there’s gonna be a day where things catch up and you’re gonna have to leave neutral. that government ya made isn’t gonna leave ya alone, exiled or not. so when things do go wrong..” tommy gave techno a cautious look, but the piglin just nodded at him. “come find phil and i. we’ll take care of ya.” tommy’s heart immediately warmed. “maybe not as well as y/n, but it’ll be something.”

tommy nodded with a somber smile. as kind as techno’s words were, the thought of leaving neutral honestly hadn’t occurred to him in a while.

“thanks, techno,” he nodded. “i appreciate it.”

“‘course, kid.”

“alright,” y/n sighed as she came back into the kitchen. “one lukewarm netherite sword, and a fixed up netherite chest plate. and..” techno took the fixed materials from her as she walked over to her fridge, pulling out a bag. “enough food to last your journey. and a little longer, ‘cause i know phil likes my pie.”

“he does,” technoblade nodded, taking the bag from her hands. “thanks for everything, y/n.”

“of course,” she shrugged. “it’s what im here for.” he nodded with a small smile, and she held her arms out to him. tommy was surprised to watch techno accept her embrace, giving her a tight hug before pulling away and offering him a wave.

“i’ll see ya around, kid,” techno nodded.

“it was good seeing you, techno,” tommy smiled. and the piglin left.

...

“deep breath, tommy,” y/n reassured. his usual target had been moved back a couple more paces, increasing his usual struggle with aiming the bow. but he still did as instructed, taking a breath and relaxing his shoulders in the slightest before releasing the arrow he had drawn. it lodged itself to the left of the bullseye. “great shot!”

tommy grinned as he looked over to her. “im getting better.”

“and that’s all we can ask for,” y/n agreed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “come on, kid, let’s take a break. you’ve earned it.”

as they walked back into the kitchen, tommy inquired, “so where’d you learn to make the berry muffins?”

she laughed, retrieving a pitcher of water from the fridge. “it’s actually a recipe that niki and i made together. just, uh..” she thought as she poured them some water. “just a little before the war, i believe.” she pursed her lips as she placed his glass in front of him. he felt the previously light atmosphere begin to sink into something darker. more serious. “i suppose you know of the war by now.”

tommy shrugged. “i..” he raised his glass to his lips. “i know very little.”

he didn’t dare look up at her as she sat across from him at the kitchen table. “can i ask what you know?”

he finally looked up, seeing her eyes were as kind and patient as usual. for some reason, talking with her about the war seemed invasive. it felt intrusive; like he had walked into some personal part of her that he wasn’t supposed to discover. but looking into her eyes, tommy realized that they couldn’t avoid this conversation. the war was a part of her.

“technoblade and ghostbur told me a bit,” he admitted, his finger swirling around the rim of his glass to distract himself as he talked. “just that.. i know it was between alivebur, dream, and techno implied that there were more involved? techno told me that dream put out a claim on you, and everyone resisted that, including you, and then wilbur entered it to try and win you over, and..” he shrugged. “it ended with neutral. that’s all i know. really.”

y/n nodded. “i believe you. and you’ve got some of the more important details..” she took a long sip of her water. “the war was between dream, alivebur, and technoblade.” tommy’s eyes widened.

“technoblade?”

“yeah,” she nodded. “dream sent out a claim for me, wilbur stepped in and tried to claim me in return, and then techno stepped in to stop the both of them and convince me to go with him.”

“wow,” tommy whispered, taking a drink. he took in the new information before changing his curiosity. “what were the battles?”

“the first official fight was between dream and wilbur,” she answered. “then they both started to gain support from friends, and build miniature..” she considered. “i wouldn’t dignify them as armies, but i guess they were miniature armies. i remember they all eventually got tired of those and began to send each other duel challenges, but i actually managed to shut that down.” tommy nodded. “just because..” she shook her head, looking out of the kitchen window. her eyes had grown distant. “that was not worth losing a canon life over.”

“was that the only thing you managed to stop during the war?” tommy asked, his voice quieter than before. y/n considered.

“i think so,” she sighed. “it was just such a ridiculous war; it was somehow over me, and yet i didn’t get a single say in anything that happened. i-i’m not some blacksmith you can lay claim to and use whenever you need!” she spoke defensively. realizing she was exuding her frustration in the wrong place, she took a breath and looked back to tommy calmly. “they treated me like a possession that entire war, and i couldn’t do anything to stop them.”

“was there ever a winner?” tommy questioned. “i mean, the war stopped eventually.”

“i was the winner,” y/n spoke. “i proved to them that i wasn’t a piece of property to steal, that i have control over my own life and my own actions. and then i established neutral.”

“how’d you prove it to them?” tommy asked, and immediately y/n’s gaze dropped. after receiving no response, he spoke, “.. y/n?”

“i’d rather not talk about it,” she said, looking back up at tommy seriously. “to this day it’s not something that im proud of, but things are different in war.”

tommy nodded. after a moment of tense silence, he couldn’t help but ask, “did you kill someone?”

y/n stood abruptly and tommy’s heart nearly dropped at the sight of the tears forming in her eyes. he had crossed a line. but not only had he done that.. y/n had killed someone.

“i-im sorry, y/n,” he spoke, shaking his head. “i shouldn’t have-”

“it’s fine, tommy,” she whispered, wiping at the tears in her eyes. she quickly spoke, “let’s take the afternoon off, alright?”

he nodded, leaning back slightly in his chair. “alright.” 

he watched y/n sighed, dropping her hands tensely back to her sides as she voiced, “go relax.” she gave him one final nod before leaving the kitchen. he cringed when he heard her bedroom door whip shut, sighing as he looked to the empty kitchen surrounding him. 

technoblade, dream, and wilbur were all in love with y/n. or at least, had once been, and enough so that a war broke out for her heart. but as tommy considered what he had heard from y/n, he began to realize that the war may have began over y/n, but the boys became so blinded by their competition between each other that they allowed that love to turn to possession.

tag list <3 @vanhakirja @victory-is-here @inkyynki @airiour @sylum @kiritokunuwu @221bee-slytherin @bllatrixcarpnter @soullesstaco @stxrryb1tch @amibismexy @keiarma @akaichi-blog @runningoffofcaffeine @nonetookind @aquilla-favonia @feverish-dove @izuruamme @weeb-bb @bialin @justachillbisexual @kiritokunuwu @natalie-is-a-wall @woman-soot @boyleanti @nostalgic-writes @ahmya-4 @cryinqclouqs @littleliv5 @weeb-bb @truthdaze @dusky-purple-black @sadassflatass @dreamyteam​ @edgy-jim​ comment below or message me if you would like to be added <3

[lovethoery]

pairing: nonidol!jeno + fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: smut! please read at your own risk ♡ also just very soft n fluffy for the most part. it gets a little mean at the end but it’s all consensual and discussed before hand!!! promise.

kinks: slight puppy play, mentions of pegging and strap-ons, dominant reader, submissive jeno, mommy kink, vaginal sex, established relationship, no protection (pls b safe!!), dirty talk, fingering, ♡ big dick jeno ♡, breeding (the reader says not to, but i promise they’ve talked it over and it’s actually okay), mention of pussy eating, name calling?, tummy bulging, drooling.

a/n: i have not been able to stop thinking abt subby puppy jeno... he’s just so good... im not a dom, but for jeno (and mark)? i’ll do anything. this is very much self-indulgent. no i’m not sorry.

jeno’s hips can’t help the way they fuck into your hand, eyes fluttering shut from the feeling. it’s just so good, and he hasn’t gotten his dick wet in months.

“and whose fault is that?” you coo, leaning forward to get in the boy’s face. jeno’s ears are a bright pink, chest and neck beginning to adopt the same hue. he gulps, looking down to where your fingers are wrapping around his length, working him up and down.

“m-mine...” he whispers, mouth parting open as his eyes flutter shut.

“unh-unh. eyes on me, mutt,” you order. jeno’s nothing if not obedient, though, and he opens his eyes quickly, whimpering. “do you wanna fuck mommy?” you can’t miss the way jeno’s eyes light up; it’d be impossible to miss it.

he’s pressed up against the headboard of your shared bed, shirt tossed in a corner somewhere. his jeans are unbuttoned and shoved down messily, boxers still confining most of your boyfriend’s cock. jeno looks an absolute wreck, and you can see the way the thought of being inside your pussy causes him to sink deeper into his fucked out state.

raising a hand, you brush the hair out of his face gently, jeno’s tongue brushing past his lips to wet them. your fingers itch to push past those pretty pillows and make him gag, but you figure you’d save it for later.

“yes or no, angel?”

jeno’s mouth opens wider, then closes. he looks around as if you’re baiting him, but then he speaks softly. “yes...”

“yes what, pup?” your eyes bore into his, daring him to look away when you’re practically dangling a bone in his face—something so sweet and savory. a chance he doesn’t get often.

“yes, mommy,” jeno breathes, eyes wide and borderline innocent. borderline only because you know what he’s really like—desperate, needy, trying everything in his power to keep from breaking any rules you may have set forth tonight. “please let me fuck you...”

the boy beneath you is practically vibrating from the prospect of being inside you once again. he hasn’t been allowed to fuck you as of late due to poor... technique.

“mmm...” you hum, straightening your back to sit up, taller than him; looking down on him like the mutt he is. “do you think you can do a good job? surely with how much mommy’s fucked you, you must’ve learned something, right, puppy?”

jeno whimpers, loud and high in his throat, head moving forward to rest his face in your chest. the boy mouths at your shirt, nuzzling into you. you can’t help but bring your hands to card through his hair, petting him gently. jeno is your most precious boy, after all. “oh, puppy... okay, okay... you can fuck mommy.”

moving off of his lap, you begin to pull your clothes from your body, only to be stopped by jeno. “let me, please...” always such a good boy, you think.

jeno’s fingers tremble when he brings them to the drawstring on your shorts, despite how deft and nimble they typically are. it makes you giggle, laying on your back to allow him to pull the shorts from your legs. he moves slowly, almost like he’s still unsure about it all. you coo, reaching for his wrist. you thumb over the protruding bone, reassuring in your gentle movements. he nods in understanding, spreading your your legs wide to play with your pussy, admiring the way it glistens with your essence.

a sigh slips from the both of you when jeno sinks in his middle finger, and you giggle again. jeno’s eyes snap towards you, making sure he’s doing alright before he’s wiggling the digit carefully. his thumb moves to hook onto your clit, drawing gentle circles. he’s working you up, just like you’d taught him to when you first started having sex.

you moan softly, jeno’s middle finger beginning to crook, searching for your g-spot. your back arches when he finds it, toes curling and the boy between your legs can’t help the way his tongue starts to loll out of his mouth, practically salivating at the display before him. he’s never seen something so beautiful in his entire life, and his cock throbs from where it sits half-way out of his underwear. a blurt of pre-cum spills from the tip and you grin lazily.

“and here i thought i was the only one who was wet... but you’re dripping over there, baby,” you breathe. your voice is pitched up just a little, head tilting back. you miss the way jeno’s eyes flutter shut at your words, embarrassment flooding his bones.

“can i add another finger?”

you nod at his question, praising him for being so good, remembering to ask before doing. you’ve taught him so well, how to be the best boy be can be, and jeno beams under it. he takes the permission granted to him and slips his ringer finger in next, scissoring them wide.

a whine falls from your lips, legs spreading wider as you clench around the digits. “fuck, that’s so good,” you moan, eyes moving to lock on jeno’s. you grin again, teeth on display and jeno whimpers, kissing your bent knee. moving your foot, you press it up against jeno’s cock, biting your lip in satisfaction when jeno’s hips jolt.

“hurry up, puppy. get mommy ready for your big cock so you can fuck her nice and good.”

jeno doesn’t need to be told twice, fingers beginning to speed up after adding a third, pumping in and out of you. you moan louder, head falling back against the mattress. the coil in your abdomen tightens, spring loaded and ready to snap when jeno’s thumb speeds up its circles on your bud. your hips buck up, whines falling from your mouth as you get closer and closer, falling from the edge when jeno takes initiative and gives you that fourth finger, cupping your pussy as he stretches you wide and makes you cum.

it’s with soft whines and pretty cries that you cum, back arched taut like a bowstring and jeno thinks he could cum untouched, just from the sight alone. he has, if he remembers correctly. but not right now. right now, jeno needs to be inside you.

without even thinking, jeno’s quick to pull his hands away, shoving his pants and briefs down enough for his cock to fall out, heavy and thick between his legs.

your eyes are hazy as you look up at him, still coming around from your orgasm when jeno shoves his length into you. your eyes widen, mouth falling open as he starts to thrust, eyes watering from the stretch. “f-fuck!” you cry, back arching again. it burns, but you’re too preoccupied with the pleasure that builds behind your belly button again.

four fingers are never enough when it comes to stretching you out, another reason why you prefer to fuck him, and not the other way around. that, and every time jeno gets his cock in you, it goes like this.

the boy between your legs is practically jackhammering into you, hips moving like a piston into you over and over again. his eyes are closed and his tongue hangs from his mouth, drool coating his chin. his eyes open and close, looking down at you. jeno’s so far into his own headspace, there’s nothing in his eyes but desire and a need to breed you.

“j-jen... puppy, you’ve gotta slow d-down—oh, my god...” you try, hand moving to press against his tummy. it’s damp with sweat, tensing over and over from a mix of exertion and undying pleasure. jeno, despite your pleas, shows no sign of slowing. it feels like he begins to move even faster, balls slapping against against you.

the room is filled with the sound of skin against skin, your pussy squelching loudly as it tries to adjust to jeno’s width.

he stops for a moment, moving the two of you around. jeno moves with your legs tossed over his forearms, pulling you closer and up into his lap. with your feet up in the air, you feel a little burn of shame, not used to being manhandled in this way, though you know in the back of your mind you could easily take back control if needed.

jeno seems to only get rougher, pushing back into with a one-track mind. you know that look when he looks at you again. he wants to cum inside you.

“no,” you warn, hand tangling into his hair and pulling roughly.

jeno leans forward with a cry, face burying itself in your chest, knees pressing to your chest. you groan with the stretch in your thighs and waist, but shake it off, pushing it to the back of your head when you feel soft lips pressing against the base of your throat. teeth scrape across your skin, biting down.

with your legs locked up between your bodies, you have no way of pushing jeno away. it’s not that you don’t want him to cum inside, you do. it’s just... he doesn’t deserve it for the way he broke your rules.

“m-mommy!” jeno’s voice is high pitched, breaking on the end as his thrusts slow, but grow rougher. you can feel the slick between your legs, spilling down over your ass and onto the blankets beneath you. “so g-good... wanna breed you...”

your mouth opens when jeno readjusts, cock pressing up against your walls in the best way possible, pressing up against your sweet spot every single time. your toes curl where they’re propped up in the air, your boyfriend’s body preventing you from lowering them. a cramp starts to pull somewhere in your left thigh, and you contemplate telling jeno as much but when he cries out into your chest, you don’t have it in you to stop him.

“you better pull out, mutt!” you warn him, fingers wrapping around broad shoulders and digging into his skin. pretty crescent moon shapes litter his back, deep, red scratching lining his tanned skin.

your words seem to only spur jeno on, hips picking up pace as he becomes focused on only his pleasure.

“stupid dog,” is all you’re able to get out before jeno’s hips are stuttering, cock bottoming out. the tip kisses your cervix, cum painting your walls, and your own body convulses at the feeling. you moan into the air of your bedroom, pulling jeno even closer. your tummy bulges with his cock, and jeno just has to press a clammy hand against it.

jeno stays buried deep inside you for a moment, catching his breath. he’s hiccupping a little as he tries to come back to earth from whatever pleasure-induced cloud he’d been on. your fingers move to bring jeno’s face to yours, lips pressing against one another. jeno’s tongue finds refuge against your own, and you moan into his mouth. it’s sloppy and messy, the total opposite of the jeno everyone else gets to see and it makes you clench around his softening cock.

when he pulls away, you hum, taking in the sight before you. jeno’s eyes are wide, pupils blown as he regards you like you’re the only source of water for miles and he hasn’t had a drop in days. his tongue hangs out of his mouth, panting like a dog, and his chin is covered in drool. your fingers work to clean his face, wiping against the bedsheets once you’ve done your best to work the spit away.

you gasp as jeno’s cock slips free, soft between his legs.

“hi, baby,” you whisper, a grin on your lips as you work him back to you. “can you speak yet?”

jeno swallows, eyes blinking slowly as his mouth works to form words.

“shh... you don’t have to try if you can’t. just nod if you’re feeling good enough to keep going.”

the boy between your legs keens softly, nodding a soft yes. you card your fingers through sweat-dampened hair, cooing gently, trying to show as much affection to the boy as you can before you’re yanking on the strands, growling under your breath.

jeno whines in pain, but you can feel his dick twitching against your ass.

“stupid fucking dog. you can’t listen, can you?” your voice is biting, though you mean no malice. “first, you think of only yourself when i so graciously let you fuck me. remember last time, mutt? remember why mommy hasn’t let you fuck her in months? because you do shit like this.” with another tug, jeno’s groaning, mouth opening again. your free fingers work into his pretty, swollen mouth, pressing down on his tongue. your thumb hooks under his jaw, in the divot behind his chin. forcing his mouth open, you maneuver his head so he’s unable to look anywhere but you. “and then, to make it worse, mommy told you not to cum inside her. but what do you do? you cum inside her like a stupid mutt. do you know what will happen if mommy gets pregnant?”

jeno’s eyes are filling with tears, and for a moment you become worried, but you know jeno’s smart enough to use his safe word. he has before, even when he’s gone so far into his puppy space that he’s gotten nonverbal.

“if mommy gets pregnant with your puppies,” you whisper, bringing him in close. he swallows as best as he can around your fingers. “then mommy can’t fuck you like the stupid bitch you are. and you will never get to come close to my pussy. do you understand me, mutt?”

the boy trapped between your legs nods quickly, drool spilling from around your fingers once more. you hum, digging a heel into jeno’s lower back before releasing him. jeno slumps against your chest once your legs are free as well, and your fingers move from his mouth to pet through his locks again.

“you’re lucky you’re so cute, nono.” your voice is breathy, a soft giggle in it somewhere as jeno rests his chin on your chest, looking up at you with big eyes. “god, i can’t even be mad at you.” you’re pouting down at him, moving to adjust your position. turning around, you rest up against the headboard, legs spread wide. jeno’s cum drips from your fluttering walls, between your cheek, and onto the bed sheet beneath you.

“if you wanna make it up to me, you’ll come over here and use that pretty mouth of yours to make me cum.”

jeno’s eyes light up once more and he’s immediately crawling between your legs, ready to give you the world and then some.

[technowoah]

Hello can I request number 50 from the fluff list a dream x reader plz

IT'S YOU [12:56 am]

I HOPE THIS IS CUTE!

I POSTED TOO EARLY IM SORRY BUT IT'S FINISHED NOW

Dream x gen neutral(?)reader blurb

50) I'll love you until you love yourself.

⚠︎ insecurities, slight angst, not proofread, fluffiness, swearing, i didn't proofread 🙄

You and Clay have been together for a year now. Its been a beautiful year together and even better when you two found out that you both lived closer than you two thought. You both loved every second you two were together. It felt like you two were still in the honeymoon phase, but you both had struggles to work through. It was normal.

Today you were at Clay's house, lying in his bed until he was done streaming. You were engrossed in your phone that Clay's yelling became distant to you. You weren't too obsessed with how you looked, you were pretty confident, but everyone has those days where they get insecure.

Comparing yourselves to other streamers wasnt a passtime for you, but it was now. Just looking at how their fans compliment their face shapes and how their eyes look in the lighting. I mean they were beautiful and deserved the praise, but you were nothing like them. You weren't as confident as them, and your mind was currently telling them that they looked better than you too.

Somehere in the depths of your mind you knew that those intrusive thoughts were false, but they kept flooding your mind. You fell deeper into the rabbit hole and ended up looking up celebrities, and more streamers you knew on Instagram. Your eyes were still glued to the screen comparing your body to theirs, you were so into it that you didnt feel the bed sink next to you.

"Hey! Listen to me!" Clay whined as he spooned you from behind, hugging you tightly. He tried to bring your attention to him, so you put your phone down for the time being.

"I require attention. I streamed for 2 hours and I need human interaction." He kissed your cheek as you tried to turn around in his grasp.

You finally tuned around with his arms still around you. Both of your faces were close just enjoying eachothers company in the silence. It was a while for Clay to show you his face, and you felt special since he only showed his face to select friends. You always felt special with him because many would kill to be where you are but he chose you, you chose him.

"What's up?" Clay smiled.

"Nothing~" You sighed trying to push down the past thoughts of insecurities you had.

"Were you watching the stream? You probably could hear me in the other room." Clay laughed as he adjusted how he layed with you.

"I wasn't actually, but I could hear you. I'm surprised you didnt install some soundproof walls or those foam things."

"I'll consider." Dream hummed. You both layed sideways facing eachother as he rubbed his hand up and down your waist.

His hands began to feel uncomfortable on you, like they weren't meant to be there. You began to fall back into your mind if he actually loved how you looked and acted. He can find so many other people with better personalities. You shifted away from his touch, trying not to make a big deal out of it.

You knew it was wrong to think this way, you knew it was unhealthy, it wasn't fair to Clay either. It had to be stopped soon, but you couldn't find the strength to stop it.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Clay asked.

"Only a penny?"

"10,000 for your thoughts?"

"10,000 pennies or dollars?"

"Whichever gets you to talk to me." Clay had this look in his eyes, that you hated. That look made you spill everything on your mind, it made you crumble infront of him, and it was okay.

"Why aren't you letting me touch you?" Clay asked you carefully. "Im not trying to start anything bad, but I just want to know."

You took a big sigh before letting everything out. "Clay, I feel like shit. It's bad right now, have you ever compared yourself to another person? Their personality, their look, just you want to be them, be better. Sometimes I feel inadequate to my friends, I feel like I can look better than I am right now."

You paused for a moment to gather your thoughts. "I feel like you can do better-"

"Okay I draw the line at that. Im sorry I'm listening to you, but that's uttet bullshit." Clay spat out.

Your eyes widened when Clay sat up in the bed. "You are amazing! Dont let anyone else or you say otherwise! I love you because you are you, I dont want anyone else. I need you to believe that, I know you do! You believe that, but at these moments know that you are worth all the love you get. From me and from your fans." Clay pulled you up to sit upright with him.

"I'll love you until you learn to love yourself." Clay kissed you on the nose and brought you into his arms for a long hug, sitting on his lap with your legs on either side of him.

"Thank you love, I just needed to get that off my chest. It's just intrusive thoughts s'all." You said while holding him close.

"I know, but I hate that you think that way sometimes. I wish I could erase all of that." Clay mumbled into your shoulder.

"I know too, but you can't we can only just remind eachother and try to get rid of intrusive thoughts. They'll always be there, but it's how we deal with them."

"Hmm wise words." Clay chuckled.

"I love you, you know that." You said while kissing his cheek.

"I know. I live for you, you know that." Clay said in response to you.

You moved yourself off of his lap and back onto the bed beneath you two. "Now you're trying to one up me?"

Clay laughed. "I always one up you. Like in Minecraft, that's why you'll never be a hunter."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. He continued to tease you about why you'll never be in a manhunt video, but you knew he meant no harm. It feels good to feel loved even when you dont love yourself. Even if its for a minute or an hour, sometimes you need that. It didnt make you feel guilty when you need the reassurance, but times like this dont make you feel guilty.

Its always you and him against the world. And against your mind.

[ssamie]

six. “friends die together”

kozume kenma x fem dazai!reader

(bsd x hq)

tw: mentions of suicide 

masterlist.           suicide freak!

kenma slowly opened his eyes. the dim rays of the sun were slowly peeking through his bedroom window as he stretched and rolled around his bed, wrapping himself up in a blanket burrito as he felt his eyes slowly fluttering close once again. 

it had been atleast a week since he's actually gotten sleep, and now he's just trying to relish in the feeling of rest before he completely disregards it again. 

all of a sudden, his phone rang. 

"what the.." he mumbled with a groan 

it was currently five in the morning, and he knew kuroo was smart enough not to call him. especially since kenma would usually just be gaming or would just straight up ignore him. 

"hello?" he muttered to the phone, not bothering to check the ID 

"good morning!" y/n's chirpy la-di-da voice resonated from the phone 

immediately, kenma groaned and rolled his eyes. he had to fight the urge of hanging up the phone then and there. 

"what do you want? and why are you calling me so early in the morning?" kenma asked 

"now, now! don't be so stingy kenma-kun!" she laughed "i just wanted to check up on ya, that's all" she said, followed by soft humming of a melody 

kenma blinked as he groggily listened to her words. "oh. okay.." 

"thanks for that, i guess.." he said 

"aww! your voice is all deep and gravelly in the morning! very hot." she chirped 

kenma sighed. he could practically sense the stupid flirty smile appearing on her face. "and you sound oh so happy. as always." kenma chirped back sarcastically

a small smile grazed his lips as she started laughing on the other line. 

"oh, kenma! you're so funny!" she chuckled "when have i ever been happy?" 

"wait what-" 

"anyways, kenma-kun.." she trailed off, her cheerful tone now dropped as an eerily serious and guarded one replaced it. 

"y-yes?" kenma gulped 

"im afraid im in a tight spot as we speak. its quite critical. please come to the location i will send you." she spoke in a monotonous tone 

"huh? wait!" kenma exclaimed. he sat up on his bed, subconsciously reaching for his nekoma jacket which was messily laid out on the foot of his bed. "what are you talking about?" he asked, his hands were shaking, as well as his voice. 

"its a crisis! only you can help!" she said 

"okay. i-i'll be there.." 

humming under her breath, y/n patiently waited for kenma to arrive. she didn't have so much faith at first, but once she heard the soft thumping of feet on the ground, she grinned. 

"w-what happened?" kenma asked through ragged breaths as he skidded to a halt infront of her "a-and what are you wearing?" kenma asked 

he took notice of her rather formal attire, laying underneath the sand colored coat she had. his brows then shot up as he calmed his ragged breathing. 

"is this because of your weird detective work thing? did you get trapped?" kenma asked worriedly. when she didn't answer, he simply panicked even more. "why did you call me?! you should've called those other detective people!" kenma exclaimed 

"i got in myself" she admitted with a small innocent smile 

"what?" kenma deadpanned, now starting to regret running atleast eight blocks just to help her 

"well, you see.. i heard there's a way to commit suicide by getting stuck in an oil drum. so i decided to give it a shot" she said with the same innocent smile. she then chuckled sheepishly as she started sinking deeper into the oil drum. 

"but now that i've wedged myself in this deep, i can't get out on my own" she said 

kenma simply stared her down, looking unamused, tired and annoyed. "i see." he says 

"i think i might die" she pouted as she sank deeper into the drum. 

kenma grunted and sat on the ground, sitting a few feet from the drum she was stuck in. he was kind of impressed on how her whole body hadn't snapped in two yet. 

"well, isn't that what you wanted?" kenma said with a huff of annoyance 

"i like suicide" she said with a scoff, sounding somewhat offended "but i don't like suffering and pain! why would i?" 

"i see" kenma said with a sigh. he sat up from the ground and narrowed his eyes, trying to look for a way to free her from the oil drum

"also, i learned this only after i stuffed myself in here, but it wasn't even a suicide method!" she laughed 

"but, it was actually a torture method from the-" 

before she could even finish her sentence, she was cut off as kenma pushed the oil drum over, sending her and the drum rolling off. he let out a huge breath of air as he cradled his aching hands. 

"ni-nice job, kenma-kun" she squeaked out as she wiggled free of the drum. "but now.. we have only an hour left before school starts" she said as she patted down her clothes and combed her fingers through her hair 

"and i heard from nekomata-san that he has some news that you boys would surely love" she said as she stretched her aching muscles 

"are we really gonna move past the fact that you wedged yourself in an oil drum!?" kenma exclaimed in aggravation 

". . ." she looked at him with a dumb smile before sending him a wink and a thumbs up. 

"yep! we sure are!" 

"i hate you so much" kenma muttered 

she smirked teasingly and loomed over his shoulder "hehehe~ well if you hate me so much, then why go through all the trouble to help me?" she cooed 

kenma scoffed and flicked her away. "because we're.." he trailed off "nevermind.." a small blush covered his cheeks faintly, but it was enough to get her attention. 

she chuckled lowly and poked his cheeks. she narrowed her eyes and tauntingly stared him down. "oya? what's this, kenma-kun? do you like me or something?~" she teased 

kenma flinched and covered his cheeks with his hands "no! no i don't!" he quickly denied "i just thought that.." he muttered quietly

"since we're friends and all.. i thought it'd be right to help you.." kenma admitted bashfully 

stunned from his words, she couldn't really do anything but stare at him blankly with widened eyes. "we're friends?" she asked 

kenma spluttered at her response, suddenly feeling anxious and embarrassed, thinking that he overstepped their 'relationship' 

"um- i mean.. i just thought that since we've been hanging out but.." kenma said nervously. he fiddled with his hands as he looked down at his feet, too embarrassed to look her in the eyes. 

"sorry, i guess i overstepped. sorry for misreading things" he apologised 

finally realising what she's done, she gasped in horror as she looked at his heartbroken expression  "oh my gosh." she muttered "im so sorry!" 

she frantically patted his back, and stroked his hair "i-i meant like- i didnt know you considered me as a friend!" she exclaimed  "i kind of thought you just see me as a suicidal leech or something!" she shrieked 

"im sorry kenma! kill me now!" she exclaimed dramatically 

kenma finally looked up to see her tearing some of her bandages off, only for her to tie it tightly around her neck. 

"im sorry!" she cried as she squeezed tightly, trying to strangle herself to death 

"wait! don't do that!" kenma said in panic. his hands pried the bandages off and hastily threw them away. 

"you don't have to kill yourself over me" kenma sighed 

she sniffled and crushed him in her arms "kenma! you are most certainly my most treasured friend!" she cried 

"i would die for you and with you!" 

"let's not go too far" kenma said with a small smile 

"shall we start with the double suicide now?" she asks, fully ignoring his interjection 

"no <3" 

"fukurodani?" she muttered, looking quite confused and clueless 

"yes. it seems a three-day practice match has been scheduled" nekomata said with a smile  "their coach suggested the idea and who was i to decline, am i right?" nekomata chuckled 

"this will be a good opportunity for the team to train and explore new ways of playing for future tournaments." nekomata then looked at y/n and sent her a close eyed smile. "and a chance for you to test your managing skills, y/n-san" he said 

she nodded in agreement. 

"well then, now that that's settled.. you’re free to go! rest up and eat well! you'll be playing nonstop starting tomorrow" nekomata said as he ushered them out of the gym 

"thanks, coach!" the team yelled 

as the team arrives by the gate, they started to disperse. fukunaga, inouka, teshiro, and shibayama ended up declining the offer of an afterschool hangout. they claimed they needed the rest for upcoming games, so they left them be. 

"bye guys! bye y/n-senpai! see you tomorrow!!" inouka yelled from across the street. the energetic first year was waving both his arms around while shibayama drags him along. fukunaga sends them a quick nod and a small wave before they completely disappear from sight. 

"hm, so what do you guys wanna do?" kai asks with a smile 

"let's eat!" lev suggested with a grin 

"sure. where should we go? i don't really have a particular craving right now" kai said as he looked at his friends expectantly 

"we should eat at the diner near that convenience store" yaku says "it's cheap and they serve great food" 

simply humming to herself, y/n takes a quick look at the boys who seemed to be lost in their own conversations. her (e/c) colored eyes then landed on kenma, who seemed to busy with his game. 

kuroo was holding on his bag, making sure the pudding-head wouldn't walk into oncoming traffic. she smiled at the boy, taking in his overwhelmingly beautiful features. 

yamamoto was beside her, ranting about his friends from karasuno and their 'goddess of a manager' 

"we’re here!" lev unnecessarily announced as he skipped into the said diner.  "what should we eat?" he asks 

"fish-" ; "meat-" 

yaku and kuroo freeze and look at each other. their eyes silently roam one another as they look at the other with judgment. 

"hah? are we really doing this again, yakkun?" kuroo scowled. the taller bedheaded male leaned down to get all up in yaku's face, while the latter simply did the same 

"dont call me that stupid nickname, bedhead!" yaku scowled as well "and fish? pssh, what are you a grandpa?" yaku said with a snicker 

"could you stop making comments proving you lack docosahexaenoic acid?" kuroo sneered in aggravation 

"you're ought to eat more fish to fix that.. maybe even your height problem!" kuroo taunted 

yaku scowled and gripped the taller boy's collar "your stupid face is begging to be hit!" 

"no! kuroo-san, don't let him hit you!" lev yelled "he's feral!" 

"oi! shut up!" taketora hissed as he covered lev's mouth with his hand 

yaku turned to face lev, evidently irked and angered by his comment. "hah?! come here, you tall lampost! -" 

"wah! yaku-san i didnt even do anything!" lev exclaimed with teary eyes as the shorter boy continued to kick him 

kai and taketora then took initiative to calm their friends down. partially because they didn't want anyone injured. but mostly because they were fighting infront of the diner, and it was starting to get embarrassing. 

"ke-n-ma~" she cooed in a sing song tone 

kenma sighed and quickly glanced at her, before averting his attention back to his game "what?" he said 

she smiled and laced their arms together. she then pointed to a bridge not so far away from where they were standing. "you see that bridge?" she asked "and the pretty river under it?" 

"oh god. i see where this is going." kenma groaned. he turned off his game and followed her finger, eyeing the bridge she was talking about. 

"wouldn't it be so nice if we just jump off-" 

"how about we don't do that?" kenma cut her off with a sigh 

"but you're my friend right?" she whined childishly "don't friends die together?!" 

"how about we don't die at all. doesn't that sound better?" kenma tried to convince her with a sheepish smile 

her smile fell as she narrowed his eyes, seemingly disgusted and offended by his statement. 

"what? no, not at all." 

[daydreamingintheimpalax]

Unexpected

Prompt: “what happened to your clothes?”  “I think i’m falling in love with you.” “I think ive always known, deep down, i think i’ve always loved you.” 

Dean x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, somewhat detailed sex scene, iunno not much really. 

A/N: Sorry it’s so long, i had this idea and thought it’d be a fun read. Enjoy :)

Dean sat on your bed, mindlessly watching and waiting as you hid in your closet, dress after dress, skirt after skirt flying out, one almost hitting him in the face. He caught it mid air before tossing it down next to him. 

“I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up, its just a few drinks at the bar, Max already knows you, you dont need to impress him, he already likes you.” Dean spoke, watching as you popped out from your closet, three different shirts in your hands.

Dean was your best friend, you had met him and Sam as a child, your fathers had been hunting partners for a few years, always leaving you and the boys at bobby’s to cause trouble for the old man. You could still hear bobby’s voice sometimes, demanding Dean stop influencing you with his schemes. 

His buddy Max had run into him at the bar last week while you guys had stopped in during a hunt and they had caught up for hours, you had connected with Max off the bat, and when he’d asked you out, you were skeptical, see deep down you always knew Dean was your guy, your never ending crush on him had turned into deeper feelings years ago, you tried to deny it for years, and definitely never told him, but when Dean had convinced you to give it a shot, go out on ONE date with a guy he knew and liked, you gave in, never being able to say no to him, i mean, to be fair you hadn’t been with a man in over 2 years and you could use a night out, maybe even some quality time in bed with a good looking guy, plus, Dean trusted him, and that was enough.

“Dean, i haven’t been out with a guy in 2 years, i’m not going out with a guy looking like a swamp monster, first dates are everything, and looking your best can make or break the date.” You huffed, holding out a shirt to him for an opinion, he shook his head, grimacing. 

“First, you never look like a swamp monster, you’re stunning no matter what, you hardly have to work at that, secondly, that’s an old ratty tshirt you stole from me, really?” He pointed at it, now realizing he was right, why the hell you were even suggesting this. It was time to pull out the big guns. You sighed, hiding back into your closet, you had to have something date worthy. 

Dean had popped away, grabbing himself a beer, giving himself a break from outfit advice. You were his best friend and he wanted nothing more than to see you happy, even if it meant trusting Max to take you out on a date. It was one date, it’s not like he was stealing you away forever. He had always had a soft spot for you, you were his first kiss as a kid and he’d looked out for you ever since, and even though he trusted Max, seeing you get all worked up over a guy that wasn’t him still didn’t settle well with him, but he shoved his feelings down and tried to be as supportive as he could. 

He walked back into your room, realizing you were finally working on your makeup, you were slightly bent over your bathroom sink, reaching closer to the mirror as you did your eyeliner, truth be told, he loved when you did that black wing thing, it enhanced your big E/C eyes and drove him nuts everytime. He looked you over, realizing what you finally had chosen to put on, a shorter than he’d like black leather mini skirt, a matching leather shirt thing that looked similar to a bra more than anything. He cleared his throat. 

“What happened to your clothes?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You finish your eyeliner before walking past him, fetching lipstick out of your little makeup bag before making your way back to your bathroom, “What do you mean? Theyre fine.” You spoke, applying your lipstick as he piped up.

“I mean like, where’s the rest of it?” he sassed and you rolled your eyes as you walked back into the room. “It’s not that bad is it? It’s literally all i can find that isn’t covered in holes, old blood or stained monster guts.” You looked down at yourself, smoothing out your skirt. Dean cleared his throat as he eyed you properly, trying hard to calm his way out of a boner. 

“Uh, no, no i’m just teasing, you look incredible.” He smiled, nodding, you shoot him a innocent smile, “Better, Winchester. Much better, right answer.” You shoot him a small wink and he chuckles. He had come a long way on talking to women because of her, she helped him realize as a teenager and a young man that he didn’t need to be vulgar or gross to pick up women and he’d learned a long time ago thanks to her that chivarly was key.

He watched as she put on her coat, Max waiting by the door to take her out, she gave him a little wave as she told him not to wait up, she’d be fine. 

“Be safe, have fun.” He smiled as she walked out the door, his internal groan coming out of his mouth and he kicked himself for being too scared to ever make a move himself. He’d liked her since they were teenagers, but he was too stubborn to do anything, his fathers voice telling him hunter relationships never worked. 

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

The night had been a blast so far, you and Max were having a great time chatting, dancing and enjoying each others company at the bar, he was sweet, nice and had a good view on life and hunting. He told you entertaning stories, some even involved moments he and Dean shared as young teenagers hunting together, being boys and trying to get girls, Max pranking Dean. They had a good friendship and you were happy Dean had someone besides you and Sam he could pal around with. 

You had moved to his truck a while ago, the mix of alcohol and pure need affecting you both as you made out like teenagers, the windows began steaming up, it was an unusually warm evening in lebanon and you were thankful you wore this outfit or would have soaked right through it from the heat. 

His hand moved freely on your thigh and you straddled him, his back against the backseat of his pick up with you on his lap, dry humping him like some silly teenage girl who hadn’t had sex yet, you made the first move, desperate to feel a mans touch, it had been so long. 

You yank your top off, nothing but some nipple covers to cover your exposed breasts, Max lets out a soft moan, “Beautiful,” he mumbles while he kisses softly around your skin, he slowly peels off the covers off you and his mouth lands on your nipple and you let out a louder Moan than you want to but it doesn’t seem to bother him. 

Before you know it, your both down to nothing but your underwear, you reach down and pull down his boxers, reaching a hand in and grabbing him and placing him at your entrance, you’re already so turned on you don’t need foreplay tonight, not when you’re this sexually frustrated. 

You sink down on him slowly, and you both moan out, yours comes out as more of a shout, and you begin to move, slowly at first before changing into a soft but faster bounce, he’s making sounds, you know that for fact but you’re so distracted by the feeling of pure pleasure you haven’t felt in so long you aren’t even fully aware of what’s happening, you let out a shout, and before you know what’s happening, it all suddenly just stops.

You come back to reality and notice Max has pushed you off, he’s pulling his pants back on and avoiding your eye. Oh for fuck sakes, you haven’t even came close to your release and Dean set you up with a 2 minute one pump chump. You were going to kick his ass. 

“What’s wrong? are you done already?” you ask, his looks at you, letting out an exasperated huff before licking his lips and shaking his head. “I’m sorry Y/n, i don’t think this is going to work out, besides, you shouldn’t really sleep with a guy if you’re not going to rememember his name.” He scolds, glaring at you before he shoves his shirt on and climbs out the back, you put your skirt and shirt back on, deciding to skip the panties all together.

“Hey! I do remember your name, it’s Max, i’m not stupid!” You yell at him, angry now that he would even suggest that. Max turns to you, glaring, “Oh yeah, then next time maybe you should try screaming my name out and not Dean’s, jesus christ y/n, if you want him that bad just go fuck him, i doubt he’ll say no!” He shouts and you stand frozen. 

“What? Dean?, i didn’t...I don’t-” you stutter, he cuts you off. “It’s kind of obvious y/n, you screamed his name for a reason, you obviously have lingering feelings for him, and im not going to be your pitty fuck.” He sighs, he ushers you into the passenger seat, offering to drive you home in what is the most uncomfortabe, quiet, embrassing drive home ever. 

You slam the bunker door closed, worst date ever. You make your way past Dean and Sam in the library as you try your hardest to avoid them, especially Dean, you were embarassed enough, you didn’t need to face him right now, and you sure as hell hoped Max kept his mouth shut about it too.

“Y/N? That you? “ You hear Dean call out but you avoid answering, flying past them to your room before slamming the door shut. 

Dean’s eyebrows furrow.

“I guess the date didn’t go well then.” Sam speaks out, looking over at Dean. He shrugs, before getting up and walking towards your room

He knocks on the door softly, “Y/n, you okay? did Max do something cause if he did i’ll beat the living crap outta him.” He calls out, he can hear your sniffle, he sighs, before softly opening your door. You’re cuddled up in bed, watching your favorite episode of golden girls as you cry softly. He sighs and heads over, sitting on your bed. 

“Bad date?” He asks and you shrug, “Something like that.” He gives you a soft smile. “Want to talk about it?” He asks and you shake your head. “No, i just wanna forget it.” You speak, he notices you never meet his eye. He nods and agrees to leave it alone, he joins you quietly, watching tv with you but giving you your space. When you finally fall asleep, he goes to bed himself, but not before shooting Max a text. 

“Whatever the fuck you did man, she’s upset, and if i find out you hurt her, i’ll kill you.” 

                                                      ---------

It’s two weeks later when things finally come out, you haven’t spoken to Max since that night of your date. The bar is busier than usual, a few more college kids then there usually is but it is spring break, most of them are probably home for the much needed time away from school work. 

Dean is at the pool tables, hussling some airhead jock out of pool money. You watch and laugh when he heads over to you, cash in hand. 

“Ha ha, stupid brainless jocks. Always so much fun seeing how much of daddy’s money i can get out of them.” He chuckles, setting the money back in his pocket. You roll your eyes but smile. Why did you put up with this dork. 

Before you know it, someone is calling out for Dean. “Yo, Dean!” You both turn to spot Max, waving Dean over for a game. You swallow, nervous that the details of your date will come out, you still weren’t fully over it, and you dreaded Dean ever finding out, he’d never let you live it down and he really didn’t need a bigger ego. Luckily Max hadn’t noticed you yet. 

Dean motions he’ll play one round and be right back and you try to give him a smile, dreading this inside. Just don’t ask him about the date, you interally tell him, even though he’s long gone and can’t hear it. 

You sip your drink, asking for another one and you try to keep your cool at those two being in the same room all of a sudden. 

                                                      -----------

One game had turned into 4 and before you knew it, the two guys had captured a crowd, some betting on Max and some on Dean. It was becoming a friendly competition between the two boys. 

“Aw come on Max, don’t be a sore loser, i’m sure you can come back from that.” Dean teases, watching as Max lines up his next shot. 

“Easy for you to say Winchester, tell me, do you ever get sick of being a pompous prick?” Max winks at him and Dean smiles, “Eh, Sometimes, but then i remember how fun it is to watch you lose and its all worth it.” Dean chuckles, Max suddenly isn’t in a joking mood and he shoots, it goes in, he gets a few more and Dean’s actually surprised. 

“Not bad, man. You’re getting better.” Dean smirks, “Still no match for me though, i always win.” Dean leans in, takes a shot and gets his last three balls in, He lines up with the 8 ball, looks up at Max, and smirks, then his eyes find you, sitting behind Max a few tables down and he shoots you a wink, before sinking in his ball. Game over. 

Max turns around, realizing who Dean winked at, he turns back around, slamming his pool stick down. “Good game, I’m done, guess you won Dean, you got the money, and the one girl i’ve liked in a really long time, guess you always do win, huh?” He spits out, a bitter tinge to his voice. He scoffs and walks away.

Dean’s suddenly confused, what the hell was he talking about. He looks over at you, you’re watching the television over the bar, no clue what had just happened, he follows Max outside catching him before he reaches his truck.

“Hey! I didn’t get anything, if this is about y/n, you screwed that up on your own, okay? I had nothing to do with that!” Dean shouts. Max laughs and turns to face him. “Oh bullshit Dee, you have everything to do with it!” He sneers, “I really liked her man, she was cool, but like always, Dean Winchester always gets the girl!” He scoffs, making Dean frown, confused. 

“Y/n isn’t mine! she’s my friend, whatever you did to piss her off on your date was your problem, she didn’t tell me what you did but if you wanted her that bad, you had the chance to fix it!”

“REALLY DEE? Tell me, how the fuck would you fix the girl you like screaming your best friends name in bed when shes with you? Huh? How the fuck do i fix her thinkng about you while she’s fucking me?” He swallows, “Man, forget it, you wouldn’t understand, god forbid that ever happened to you.” He spits, before he’s in his truck, driving away. Dean’s still standing there, more confused than ever.

He finally makes it back inside, his eyes roaming around for you. He finds you in the same spot, the female bar tender chatting with you and making you laugh. Your eyes find him, beckoning him over and he moves.

He finally reaches you and you smile, “I got you another beer. How did the game go? You disappeared.” You ask, and he stares at you, he finally pipes up, and your heart sinks. Oh no. Please no.

“Max seemed very upset when he saw you, what happened on your date again? Why didn’t you ever go out with him again?” He asks, you take a sip of your beer and shrug. “I dunno, he wasn’t my type, just didn’t work out.” You bite your lip, hoping to god he lets this go, you don’t need to relive that embarassing moment. 

He nods, taking a drink of his own beer, “Okay, so he just wasn’t your type, that’s all? It had nothing to do with you screaming my name in the middle of sex?” He calmly points out and you nearly choke on your beer, spitting beer across the bar table, everyone close by stares at you, you turn red, apologizing and grabbing napkins to clean up your mess. 

You turn and face Dean, “He fucking told you!” Dean raises an eyebrow, “In a not so nice way, so it’s true? You really did?” He smirks and you bury your face in your hands, “Oh god...” You call out and when you look back up Dean’s cheesy grin is staring back at you, “Actually, apparently it’s Oh Dean.”

You throw a nice solid punch into his shoulder before you run out of the bar, “Y/n...y/n wait!” Dean calls out but you’re already half way across the bar and out the door. He throws down some cash and chases after you, catching you half way down the road.

“Y/n...” He calls out, “Just leave me alone Dean, i knew you would use this against me, i knew it. You’re a jerk.” You wipe away a tear, he finally reaches you and grabs your arm, turning you to face him. 

“Hey, i didn’t mean to upset you, i’m sorry, i just, i was surprised, that’s all.” He sighs, “Why didn’t you just tell me? I thought Max was the one who hurt you or something.” He speaks softly and you sniffle. 

“it’s embarassing, i didn’t even know i did it, i was so into it and then he just stopped, for a second i thought he’d already, you know, i was disappointed then we got into an argument about it and he took me home.” You shrugged. 

Dean nodded, he was quiet for a while, and then he spoke, revealing something that made even you question if you were drunk.

“I uh, i guess i wasn’t expecting to hear that, and i guess i got a little excited cause iunno i just, i think i’m falling in love with you, and when Max told me i just uh, i guess i was hopeful that maybe it meant you felt the same.” He swallows before going quiet, watching your reaction carefully. 

You nodded, frowning as you realised you weren’t dreaming, Dean loved you, Dean Winchester loved you.

“I think i’ve always known, Deep down, i think i’ve always loved you.” You shrug, “Every since we shared our first kiss, i think part of me has loved you ever since.” You smile, finally meeting Dean’s eyes, the grin on his face tells you all you need to know, this man is crazy about you, always has been.

“oh yeah?” He smiles, reaching out to grab you, you chuckle, leaning up and placing a slow, deep kiss on his lips.

“Yeah, what can i say, you’re just my type.” You smirk and Dean laughs. 

“Well then, why don’t we get back home and i’ll give you a real reason to scream my name.” He smirks, leaning down quite a bit to place wet warm kisses along your exposed neck. 

“You’re never going to let me live that down are you?” You roll your eyes, he meets them and a sexy grin appears on his face. 

“Not a chance.” 

[oneirataxxiaa]

Give Us A Little Love

Request from Anon : Oof i pressed ask before i could end it. Here we go again:"Do you trust me?" "Always" "Look,a shooting star! Make a wish." "Take my hand." "Are you...blushing?" with YJ Kaldur.

Im so sorry for the wait Anon, I had some things I had to deal with. Made it long for you to make up for it! I’ve been listening to the song ‘ Give Us A Little Love ‘ by Fallulah so I kinda based the Y/N off that? used this as bit of a vent piece, Idk. Missed a prompt cause i couldn’t fit it in. Enjoy! *opens writing angst playlist*

warnings: serious angst. mentions of suicide, swearing, neglect, trust issues?

“Give us a little love, give us a little love . We never had enough, we never had enough”

***

Trouble seemed to follow her everywhere she went.

Never able to settle down, each time she felt as though she had found herself a forever home, Y/n L/n experienced something that would send her foster parents running to send her away. The daughter of an unnamed member of the League of Assassins and a civilian, the child who dealt with horrors no one should have to witness at an age such as that, Y/n learned early on to trust no one, do what's best for herself to stay alive another day.

Y/n was raised by her mother's guild until she was old enough to fight, being subjected to the terrors dealt by the League of Assassins, her childhood was disrupted. She developed little social skills beyond basic polite greetings and formal conversations. She understood the human body, not for science exams, but to know what the fastest way to kill a person was. She could fight her way out of any battle, but place her in a social situation and she would shut down. Unable to think for herself.

Y/n was fourteen when she was put into foster care, after Talia Al Gaul became pregnant with a son and there was a new heir to the league. Tossed away like a bag of trash, her mother didn't stand up for her, and her father wouldn't care for her. Pushed into the system and forgotten.

"What happened now?" Mrs Davis asked her husband. She looked tired, resting her head on her hand, her eyes half closed. Her husband of ten years shook his head.

"She punched someone, one of the upperclassmen bumped into her and she reacted by sending them across the hallway" the man was in his early forties, tired from work and stressed from the current situation.

"God, what are we going to do with her Luke? We can't home-school her, and she refuses to see a therapist! we've tried punishing her, rewarding good behaviour, doing nothing! I don't know what to do anymore" the woman sounded desperate. Her and her husband thought a good idea would be to take in a seventeen year old trouble child through fostering. Over the three months they had her, nothing quelled her radical behaviour.

Luke Davies sighed. Exhaling and rubbing a hand over his eyes with frustration. "There's nothing we can do" he paused, hating the idea that crossed his mind. "we'll have to put her back into the system. Our health and life is important as well, so, we have to take care of that" his wife nodded, looking down at her hands, tears of guilt pricking in the corners of her brown eyes, becoming heavy.

"I'll call Ruth in the morning then".

Beyond the kitchen, Y/n sat with her back against the wall, a scowl on her face as tears threatened to spill. 'emotions betray us, control them' her mothers voice rang in her ears, a memory of toddlers and nightmares and staying awake hoping and praying the monsters from the green pool wouldn't come for her. Y/n sniffed, her tears drying as she willed them to do. The teen hiked her bag further up her shoulder and took a breath, walking past the entrance to the kitchen and out the front door, ignoring the yells of her foster parents, Y/n started into a run, disappearing into the streets as dusk set in.

She didn't know when she ended up a the waters edge, but it was plenty after dark. The sun long gone and her foster parents left far behind. Y/n walked along the boardwalk, feet kicking at pebbles on the ground, sending them skipping across the concrete. Giving herself an idea, she picked up the pebbles as she walked, placing each small stone into the pocket of her jacket until she had quite the collection growing there. Further down the coast she could see a peir, stretching out over the water. That was her destination.

Voices were heard to her left, making the girl turn to see a couple whispering to each other, on dragging the other - who was laughing - towards the closed fairground further down. Y/n frowned at the freedom the two seemed to think they had, too distracted by each other to care about consequences of their actions. That was dangerous, a thrill that many couples took the chance on as far as she knew. As far as she knew, having no experience in that department anyway. The couple vanished from sight and their laughter faded into the night like a memory. 

The concrete ground turned to wood, and the crunching of stones turned to occasional creaks and groans from the old wooden plants supporting the jetty. Y/n walked the length of it, reaching the end and standing still. The girl enjoyed the smell of sea salt, the crashing ambience of the waves and calls of birds gliding over the water. The moonlight seemed only to amplify the wild beauty of the ocean, making her want to stay there forever. Y/n picked a stone from her pocket, flicking it out with her wrist, it didn't even skip. Simply crashing into the water with a dissatisfying plop. The teen tried again, angling it further down and still failing to achieve the skip she wanted.

"you should bend your whole body, it helps get the right angle" Y/n jumped back, pulling a pocket knife from her jeans and flicking the blade out. Her eyes were narrowed at the person who snuck up on her out of nowhere. "its alright, I'm not planning on hurting you" raising his hands in a calming motion. Y/n didn't move. "if I was planning to, I would have done it when you didn't know I was here don't you think?" he reasoned, motioning for her to put down the weapon. A minute passed of the boy eyeing the weapon, then looking her up and down. Any movement either made sent the other into a split second panic. Seconds ticked by, and slowly, Y/n lowered the knife, tucking it back into her pocket. The boy let out a breath and walked a little closer. Now that he was out of the shadow of the buildings on the shore, Y/n could see his features clearly. A strange suit with two handles strapped on his back. Dark skin, glossy from the salt water, blonde hair in a close shaved buzz-cut, and pale turquoise eyes that looked darker in the night air.

"can i ask what you're doing out here on your own, throwing rocks into the water?" he walks closer, eventually standing beside her.

"you may not ask" she replies, taking another rock in her hand, pausing and considering the boys first words to her. Y/n bent sideways at the waist, bending her knees and swinging her arm, being sure to flick her wrist. With the added momentum and angle, the rock bounced three times of the surface of the water before sinking on the forth landing and vanishing under the waves. Content with the one victory, Y/n dug out the rest of the rocks in her pocket, holding out her full hand and dropping them into the water with a series of splashes. She watched the fall.

"A waste of rocks if you ask me" The boy said, now leaning against one of the support poles.

"I didn't"

"didn't what?"

"ask you, I didn't ask you" Y/n clarified, sitting down on the wood, watching the waves like a mesmerising swirl of hypnotising spirals, pulling her deeper in. It felt dark in her mind, dark and scary. She felt her own emotions smothering her, suffocating her and clawing to get out.

A tear fell.

Almost instantly, the boy was by her side, sitting on the wood beside her, legs hanging over the edge in the cold water. He didn't say anything, but every action he made clarified the idea that he would listen.

Y/n opened her mouth, throwing words into the wind, venting frustration, anger and confusion, her words a spiral of fear and unfamiliarity. She felt afraid, afraid she would get a proper family. It was her fault, her behaviour and actions drove these kind people away. But she could help it, couldn't stop herself from doing things that made foster parents scared to have her around them. She couldn’t control herself some times, lashing out in fear and anger to those around her. People were scared of her, avoiding her in the hallways, refusing to work with her for projects. It hurt, to be isolated, but she knew it was her fault. She closed her mouth, halting her words and looking down at the water, tears falling freely now, though there were few. She didn’t know why she was speaking to him, telling him everything that had happened. She didn’t want to 

“you’re allowed to react how you have been, nobody should expect you to stay quiet through everything that happened” The boy said, crossing his legs underneath himself. Y/n stayed silent, looking out at the water. “do you feel better? letting everything out?” 

She nodded, raising to her feet, Y/n kicked her foot against the ground, frowning.

“Uh- thank you-”

“Kaldur” he said.

“Thank you Kaldur” she nodded, sticking her hands in her pockets and turning on her heel to head back towards the Davis’ house. Leaving the strange boy behind her.

***

It shouldn’t have surprised her that her foster parents had called to return her. She found herself sitting in the police station, being picked up by a cop car when the Davis’ reported her as a runaway. Sitting with her head rolled back on the chair, her legs kicked out in front of her and her hands behind her head, Her mind was slow, running over scenarios in her head of what would happen to her. Would she be thrown back into the system? Would they put her out on her own? She would be eighteen in a month. Would they just throw her out on her own, to deal with what lay ahead with nowhere to turn?

 Y/n looked conflicted, alone and confused. Which is what interested one of the training detectives. He was young, around eighteen or nineteen, but his connections helped jump start his dream career.

“What are you in for?” He asked. Y/n looked up. This one had dark hair and blue eyes with a spark in them that made her wonder what was going on in his head. He looked like he was planning something, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out exactly what it was going on in his head.

“Running away apparently” she shrugged, sitting up and crossing one leg over the other in a more comfortable position. Dick frowned, sitting himself in the chair across from her and leaning his arms on his knees. He didn’t wear a uniform like most of the officers in the station, having on a blue shirt, black cotton jacket and jeans. He looked almost casual, at home in the station among officers much older them himself. But something told Y/n he was smarter then he looked.

“Why’d you run away?”

“Why should I tell you?” Suspicion rose on her voice. Dick sighed and shrugged his shoulders. 

“I’ve done the same stuff, when I first moved in with my adopted dad I ran away three times in the first week” that made Y/n laugh a little, shaking her head with amusement. 

“In one week?”

“yep, was probably my best achievement at that point in my life” he grinned, “I was thirteen as well”

“Good on you” the girl nodded, picking at the corner of her shirt, pulling a thread out and watching the fabric bunch up.

“Yeah, then I settled into the house, and well, thats that I guess”. He trailed off, making Y/n frown and look down.

“Its not that easy” 

“Its not, not when you don’t try” He looked like he was trying to help, but he was just pushing her further out of her comfort zone.

“I did try!” Y/n exclaimed. “I tried so hard to be a good kid, I can’t help it . . .” her outburst faded quickly and Dick got to his feet. 

“I’m going to make a quick call, i’ll be back, I promise” his smile was infectious, and Y/n returned it, looking at the floor again as she ran a hand over her face and then rested her arms on her knees, an uncomfortable position, but she didn’t seem to care about it in the moment. Time passed, and Y/n seemed to be ignored by officers who walked past. The occasional person would send a smile her way but ultimately, she felt like she was on an island, in the middle of the sea of people who were judging her for being there.

“Alright, you’re all set!” Dick appeared out of nowhere, phone and keys in hand. His sudden appearance made Y/n start in surprise, looking at him with wide eyes for a second before calming down and settling again.

“What?” Y/n asked, confused, getting to her feet and following the boy as he gestured for her to follow him. They walked from the office, out into the hallway and towards the lobby room, filled with various civilians and criminals being brought in for holding.

“I, being myself, made a call to my dad, we’ve got this big house in Gotham City, and there’s heaps of room for someone to stay, even with Tim living there and Barbara dropping in from time to time” Y/n didn’t recognise any of the names he dropped, but things were starting to click in her mind. “I’m Dick Grayson by the way” and that was when it all came together in her mind. 

“You’re Bruce Wayne's son!” The girl stopped walking, eyes wide in surprise. She wasn’t sure how she didn’t see it before, the man looked just like the pictures of Bruce and his kids that she had seen on the news online. He was usually pictured with Bruce, and a shorter boy with dark hair. Seeing her reaction to it, Dick took a breath and rolled his eyes. As if he had to deal with such reactions on the daily - which was probably the actual case.

“Yep, now come on, or do you want to stay here moping all day?” the boy grinned and walked out of the building. Y/n looked back at the officers, milling around the station, nothing interesting catching her eyes. Taking a breath and holding it for a moment, Y/n followed him out the door as she let said breath out. 

The car park was fairly empty, considering how early in the morning it was, and that most people had just walked there to avoid traffic considering the station was central in the city of Bludhaven. Dick lead her towards a car parked on the far side. Y/n wasn’t an expert on cars, but she could tell that this was expensive - far more then she could afford - and certainly in the price range of a billionaires son.

“Can I ask where we are going?” Y/n questioned when he opened the door for her. He nodded, closing the door behind her and walking around to the drivers side of the vehicle. Closing his own door and pushing the keys into the ignition, he replied.

“I called Bruce, as I said, he’s finalising some paperwork to foster you - so we are heading to the manor in Gotham! Not too long of a drive”. Y/n stared at the dashboard in front of her with wide eyes, processing what was happening. A few hours before, she was sobbing and venting everything to some random boy on the pier, and now she was moving in with a billionaire. It was a startling change, the suddenness of it started crashing down on her. “Do you have anything you want to pick up from your old place?” Dick asked, turning the wheel to get them out onto the road, following the signs towards Gotham City.

“No” was her simple reply, tucking up her legs, Y/n positioned herself to look out the window, watching the city flash by, a swirl of bright lights and dark corners and alleys. 

***

“Are you sure you’re ready to work with everyone?” Dick asked, tapping on the zeta panel, his stance was casual enough, but his eyes kept glancing towards Y/n checking up on her to make sure she was alright. Something he’d been doing since she’d moved into Wayne manor all those months ago. Y/n herself however felt nervousness curling in the base of her stomach, clutching at her chest and making her feel a little sick. Not like she was going to throw up, but it certainly wasn’t helping to steady her nerves. The girl looked towards him when he spoke, shaking her head.

“I’ll be fine Dick, I already know most of the Team anyways, i’ve known Kaldur longer then i’ve known you” Dick shook his head with a small laugh leaving his lips. A beep emitted from the panel, and their location was locked in.

“Alright, first official team mission here we come then!”

“what are you going on about, you’ve been on missions before”

“that’s not what I- you know what, no, i’m not letting you have this win” he grinned, securing his mask and walking up to the platform, Y/n following him.

“sore loser?” she asked, matching his grin and standing beside her adopted brother.

“says you” was his quick reply before they were swallowed by the bright yellow light of the zeta tube. It was always strange to travel this way, stretched across a far distance only to be snapped back into place where they had set their destination. This mixed with the feeling of unease that already settled within her system made her clutch her stomach as they reappeared in the zeta entrance to the cave the mission room sprawling out in front of them, various heroes spread out, chatting amongst themselves as if there wasn’t a serious mission about to occur. Heads raised when her and her brothers names were announced by the computer, most turned back to their conversations, but one stayed up, looking towards them, and eventually walking in their direction. Y/n heard him before she saw him.

“Nightwing said you’d be joining us” Kaldur smiled as a greeting, “Are you alright? you look like you’re going to be sick” the smile turned to a neutral expression of concern, something that seemed to appear a lot when Y/n was around. He always had an eye out on her, to make sure she was alright, make sure she was feeling her best. Y/n smiled softly.

“I’m fine, just a lot of people that I haven’t met” she replied. When Y/n first encountered the Team, she had just started vigilante work with Nightwing, and was only  introduced to Artemis, Wally and Zatanna, and reintroduced to Kaldur. It was awkward for a few weeks before the two fell into a comfortable friendship. Still confiding in each other with troubles and fears, but their relationship with each other was more stable then the random meetups on the pier. They became close, usually found together when they both had free time. Y/n could confidently say that he was one of her closest friends, alongside Nightwing and Zatanna. 

His expression changed, from concern to understanding, the smile returning. 

“you’ll be alright, its not a big mission, just some surveillance” his words helped her a little, the nerves calming down. He rested a hand on her shoulder as perhaps some kind of reassuring act, but it sent a strange feeling through her mind. 

“yeah, alright” she swallowed, looking forwards, and hoping beyond hope that the burning feeling rising to her cheeks and ears was covered by her domino mask. Unfortunately, luck didn’t seem to be on her side at that moment.

“Y/n, are you . . . blushing?” Kaldur asked, drawing her attention back to him, instead of hyper fixating on making the blush fade.

“No” she replied, glad that her training with Nightwing and Batman left her with a good control over her voice and expressions - the blush was something she had little to no control over unfortunately. She continued however, the question throwing her into a defensive reply. “Its not your business anyways”. That made her cringe at her own words and guilt crawled in her. Kaldur seemed to let out a breath, dropping his hand from her shoulders and stepping back a little.Y/n frowned at the movement. Had she offended him? Was what she said - lying - wrong? Y/n looked at the ground, fiddling now with the corner of her suits belt, her hands moving with nervous energy. Nightwing announced the mission details, explaining what each squad would be doing. He would be keeping an eye on everything from the cave, but Y/n herself was on a lookout team with Kaldur and Zatanna. Once the group split up into the teams and started heading out, Zatanna approached Y/n, smiling.

“Where’s Kaldur? I assumed he’d be with you” she looked confused, around as if Kaldur would be hiding.

“I’m not sure, he left a little while ago” Y/n turned, and Kaldur was indeed gone from where he had been standing. Zatanna lit up when she spotted him by the Zeta Tube. 

“There he is, come on Y/h/n” Zatanna walked towards him, the other female following quickly behind. They were silent when travelling to their location. Even Zatanna seemed to see there was some sort of strange tension between the two heroes, though not sure where it had sprouted from. As far as Zatanna understood, the two were close friends. After arriving at the location, Kaldur spoke to Zatanna quietly for a moment, the girl nodded and Kaldur walked towards Y/n, holding his hand out. 

“take my hand, please?” he asked, making Y/n frown as she couldn’t decern the tone of voice he was using. So, she took his hand and he pulled her off to the side, out of the earshot of Zatanna, who took over the job of keeping an eye out for what they were looking for.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, sitting her down on the ground and sitting across from her.

“Always” Y/n replied, quicker then she would have liked. Kaldur nodded.

“Then why don’t you tell me whats wrong? You’ve been cold lately, colder then usual, and I want to make sure you are alright, and if there is anything that I can do to help you” Y/n looked down, scratching her arm nervously. She mustn’t have been as subtle as she would have liked then. Kaldur sat up a little straighter. “I don’t mind you taking your time, but I would like to know if I can help you in any way”

“I like you” she replied. Cringing at her bluntness. He was definitely sitting up straighter now. “And I don’t know how to deal with it - and i’m sorry if I've been rude to you, or anything like that” she paused. “I’m just not sure what to do, and I don’t think i’m ready for anything serious, but i’d like to see where it goes and-” Y/n paused to take a breath. Thats when Kaldur interjected.

“Y/n, slow down a little bit please, you don’t need to explain anything to me” he smiled. 

“I’m sorry”

“don’t be, you don’t need to apologise for experiencing hardships, you take your time and take steps at your own pace, and i’ll be right there beside you when you need me” He got to his feet, offering his hand to help her up.

“Sorry- uh, thank you Kaldur” she smiled, and he returned the expression.

“If you guys are done? We’ve got some movement down there” Zatanna called to them from where she was set, watching over the empty cortyard.

“We should probably get back to work” Y/n laughed nervously.

“Probably” Kaldur replied, the two walking towards Zatanna. 

Some relationships aren’t sudden. They require communication between both parties, settling on what best fits them. And Y/n? She just needed time. So Kaldur would wait until she was ready.

***

THIS TOOK 10000 YEARS . HERE YOU GO

onto DCACB chapter 3

requests are open! tag list : @silverdecepticon93 @izzieg3987​   @starr60​

[hardkinkbardkink]

What if geralt puts jaskier’s little cock in a cage. Maybe the smell of jaskier’s lust is getting in the way of hunts, and at first it’s just a practical thing, but geralt ends up loving how desperate jaskier gets and how much he works himself up, unable to get any relief without geralt’s intervention anymore. geralt watches him trying to rub his soft little cock through the cage, whining and begging for geralt to just let him out, and pretends that he's not getting off on this too, but he iiiis

(chastity anon continued) maybe geralt squeezes the cage until the metal creaks, and the cage is the only thing that stops geralt from crushing jaskier's cock with his witcher strength. maybe geralt milks jaskier's prostate with his fingers, acting all aloof while jaskier whines about not getting to come *properly*. maybe jaskier ruts his caged cock up against geralt at night, desperate for stimulation but unable to get any no matter how hard he tries. (is that too much? i'm a bit drunk lol)

you know what is too much babe? me, taking eight thousand years to fill an ask, especially a Magnificent, Amazing, Showstopping ask like this. awful. tragic.

everyone & their mother's done a cock cage prompt and u know what???? they should, it's a good bloody prompt

anyway fuck me sideways this took ages, im sorry x i'll try very hard to get more prompts out before uni starts. sub!geralt has really been haunting my dreams so possibly expect more of that? no promises, love yous x

incidentally finishing & posting this also mildly intoxicated. tumblr formatting is homophobic. here it is on ao3 cos i really need that x

***

Geralt's nose twitches.

The trail is fresh. Impossible to miss. He closes his eyes, focuses his senses.

All he can smell is the heady, overpowering scent of Jaskier's release lingering on the bard's hands.

"Jaskier," he says. Growls, maybe.

He doesn't turn to look at him, though he can hear Jaskier flinch. The spike in his heartbeat makes his blood pump faster, his scent more pungent, like a particularly cloying perfume. Geralt clenches his fists and his teeth and he's strung so tightly he fears his control might snap.

"What? What is it, witcher, I'm--I've been quiet, out of the way, what could it possibly be this time?"

Geralt can't answer. Won't answer. Focus. Focus. The frigid wind pushes his hair into his eyes and the creature's trail comes to him once more.

Sword drawn, Geralt moves forward into the night, irritated and glad to have something to sink his blade into.

***

"Ah, Geralt!" comes a distressed shout, and then Jaskier's half-running in his direction, tripping over his own feet. His doublet is undone, and so is the chemise. A mark sits high on the side of his neck, still wet from the mouth that left it there.

He grabs for Geralt's bicep, claws urgently at one pauldron before shoving himself between Geralt and the wall behind him.

"Nothing to worry about, dear witcher," Jaskier says breathlessly, ducking to peek from underneath Geralt's arm. "Just a--a misunderstanding, is all. Some parties in our arrangement failed to mention they were otherwise, ah--engaged."

"Jaskier," Geralt says as threateningly as he can manage. He's too fucking tired to deal with this again. And again. And again.

"She didn't fuck like a maiden," Jaskier mutters, and, mournfully, Geralt abandons the message board he'd been scouting, heading instead for the stables with the bard in tow and a group of young men yelling their displeasure in the town square.

***

"I don't see how this is--" Jaskier squeals, tries to shrug out of Geralt's grip. "--in any way necessary, Geralt, the silk will crease, gods have mercy."

Geralt pulls the hood lower over his eyes and walks swiftly, one gloved hand clasped tightly around Jaskier's arm, dragging him down the cobbled street. It's busy this time of day. Jaskier's incessant moaning draws them only more attention.

"Another word and I'll have your mouth sewn shut," Geralt hisses privately to spare them the unnecessary scandal.

Perhaps it is only because he finally realises the gravity of the situation that Jaskier falls silent. Geralt doesn't care for the reason. He quickens his pace.

The shop stands where it always had, inconspicuous and private, tucked away in the shadow of a large armourer. Dust rises from the stale clothes stacked on the shelves, tickles Geralt's sensitive nose; he doesn't spare a glance at the gaudy fabrics. A merchant greets them and Geralt nods at him knowingly, walking straight past him to a heavy door at the shop's back.

"Geralt?" Jaskier says tentatively, his voice quivering.

Geralt pushes the door open and shoves Jaskier inside.

The woman is a different one than the last time he'd visited, though it had been many decades since he'd had any need for services of this kind. Never this one in particular, still.

Jaskier stutters at his side, head whipping around wildly.

"Geralt? Geralt, you filthy old man, what--

He sighs in annoyance at the mischievous glint in Jaskier's eye.

"A gag, perhaps?" the woman asks, amused, and Geralt almost considers it.

"A cage," he says instead, grabbing Jaskier's shoulders and pushing him towards her.

Jaskier flails his arms like a drowning man.

"A--a what now? Geralt? If you think you can keep me in a gods-damned cage, you bastard--"

Perhaps the gag would be a wiser choice.

"Just some parts of you, sweetheart," the attendant says calmly, making to tug at Jaskier's trousers.

Geralt holds Jaskier's arms firmly behind his back as he's stripped from the waist down. He can't help but glance down over Jaskier's shoulder when the woman examines his limp cock.

"Such a sweet little thing," she comments with a smile and gives Geralt a nod before disappearing deeper into the shop. He watches the sway of her hips beneath her skirts.

"Geralt?" Jaskier whispers. His heartbeat drums dully in Geralt's ears, too fast, too loud. "Geralt, what are you doing to me?"

Jaskier's stopped thrashing, though the wheeze of his breath remains anxious in anticipation.

Geralt doesn't answer.

The woman returns quickly, a vial of a viscous, translucent oil in one hand and the steel cage in the other. Geralt marvels at how small it is, though he keeps his expression neutral.

"I'll--" Jaskier begins, though the words die in his throat when lithe, slick hands grab his cock abruptly.

"You'll want to watch, master witcher."

Geralt does.

It's a quick affair, now that Jaskier's given up his struggling. He stands still as a statue, head turned away and eyes squeezed shut. His hands shake when the woman threads his delicate balls through the metal ring, and he gasps when she gently tucks his cock into the cage.

"The fit is a bit snug," she says, lifting Jaskier's newly caged prick, turning it this way and that to get a better look. "Would you like something bigger?"

Geralt shakes his head. Jaskier doesn't try to reply.

The attendant hands him a small padlock with a key in it, and Geralt has to take his gloves off to fasten it on Jaskier's cage. The key goes around his neck, safe beneath his armour.

Geralt tugs Jaskier's trousers up, ties them roughly and perhaps too tightly. He can just make out the cage's shape under the fabric, an obscene bulge that's sure to get Jaskier longing stares.

He hands over most of his purse and urges Jaskier out, back into the world.

***

The bard is silent for three days.

They trudge the path in blissful peace that Geralt will yearn for when it breaks. When they make camp, Jaskier refuses to help. He sets up his bedroll as far as he can, shivering through the night, huffing indignantly. He won't eat until he thinks Geralt is asleep.

The atmosphere is so tense Geralt wonders why Jaskier won't simply leave, until he remembers the little silver key around his own neck.

They get to town, eventually, and Geralt sets out on a contract almost immediately. He doesn't hesitate to leave Jaskier at the inn, for once confident no trouble will befall him. The assurance is a surprising comfort.

On the fourth night Jaskier rouses Geralt from a fitful sleep, perched carefully at the edge of the bed.

"It's enough, isn't it?" he says softly, his expression shattered and pained. "I've learned my lesson. You can--please take it off."

Geralt blinks a few times. Takes a deep breath that chokes him with the urgent scent of desperation, unresolved lust. He thinks, and he thinks.

"No."

"Geralt--"

"No," he repeats calmly, closing his eyes again. "You wear the cage or I cut your useless cock off."

Jaskier gasps, and stutters, and goes quiet again, though not for long.

"If that's what it takes to stay with you then I--I will. I'll do it. But you--" A hand settles lightly on Geralt's abdomen. "You will take it off? Eventually. Right?"

Geralt hums dismissively. He revels in the neediness in Jaskier's voice, his uneven breathing as he settles back on the floor. It nearly rocks him back to sleep, until--

The whimper is a soft thing, barely audible, and yet it's enough to hurl Geralt viciously into wakefulness. He cracks an eye open, breath caught in his throat.

The darkness does little to hinder his sight; he gets a perfect view of where Jaskier's sprawled out on his bedroll, legs spread obscenely, hand desperately clutching his trapped prick. Geralt watches as he tries to get his fingers between the bars, tries to touch his swollen cock through the unforgiving metal. He whines again, louder this time as his head rolls from side to side.

"Jaskier," Geralt says abruptly. Jaskier jumps, though his hand doesn't fall away.

"Sorry," he breathes, voice thick like he might cry. "Sorry, I need it so badly, Geralt--"

And Geralt can smell it, is the thing--the salt of Jaskier's tears and the crushing, overbearing desire that now clings to him. He can't escape it, and maybe--maybe he doesn't want to.

He wouldn't ever admit it, but Geralt's cock grows unreasonably hard as he watches Jaskier frantically try to get off. He'd never thought about it, how good Jaskier would look, how good he'd sound--how achingly wanting he'd become after just a few days in chastity. It almost tempts Geralt to unlock the cage, so he can watch Jaskier's tiny prick bounce when Geralt spreads him out on the bed and fucks him within an inch of his life.

Almost.

"Go to sleep, bard."

***

The cage, Geralt comes to find, does not work as he'd hoped.

Yes, Jaskier's overeager cock can't get him in trouble anymore, and Geralt's glad for that, truly--fending off angry cuckolds never was his favourite pastime.

As far as distractions go, however--well.

The persistent, all-consuming scent of unfulfilled arousal so intense it nearly knocks Geralt to the ground is a slight problem.

He doesn't mind, really, when Jaskier looks so tempting biting his lip and rubbing his thighs together, so delicious pawing at his own prick and his swollen sack. When he begs and pleads and a whine slips into his normally sure voice, turning it thick and watery with tears.

Geralt refuses, refuses, refuses.

Jaskier does not ask to leave.

He gets drunk a lot, now. A cup of wine turns into three and then the whole carafe, and for once Geralt doesn't feel the need to keep a watchful eye and a hand on his sword. He leaves Jaskier to his will and heads to bed, calm and content.

Sleep doesn't seize him for long hours, so when Jaskier makes it back, stumbling noisily through the door, Geralt hums to let him know he's awake. He keeps his eyes shut.

It's a while before Jaskier climbs into bed beside him. The warmth of his bare skin pressed close against Geralt is a shock; the realisation that the cold, hard shape digging into his thigh is the metal of the cage trapping Jaskier's prick is--

Fuck.

His heart doesn't stutter when he feels the hot puffs of Jaskier's breath on his neck, but it might have, were he a weaker man. A hand creeps tentatively over his chest, limbs winding around him until Jaskier lies halfway on top of his supine body.

"Geralt," Jaskier breathes, sounding wrecked, and his hips move abruptly forward, clumsy thrusts against Geralt's side that make Geralt feel the curved steel even through his clothes. "Please, Geralt, please let me get off."

No, slips right to the tip of Geralt's tongue and stays there, unsaid and distant. The way Jaskier's words bleed together sets Geralt on edge. He doesn't dare move a muscle when Jaskier keeps rutting the cage against his body, keeps trying in vain to seek his pleasure. Dry lips settle on the edge of his jaw, grow wet with sloppy kisses. Geralt's own cock swells in his smallclothes, unrestrained.

"I'll do anything."

A hot rush of power hits Geralt head-on, nearly steals his breath away. The word echos in his head. Anything. Anything.

Jaskier moans faintly, right into Geralt's ear. The arm thrown across his chest moves lower, and for a moment he thinks Jaskier is going to touch his frightfully hard cock and it'll be over. He wouldn't have enough restraint to stop himself, then.

But Jaskier merely reaches to touch his own prick, like he did so many nights before; desperately trying to fit his long fingers between the bars, caress his plumped, reddened, tortured cock. Geralt releases the grip he'd had on the blankets underneath him, flexing his fingers against the ache in his knuckles. He wonders if--and he wants to--

His sudden movement doesn't startle Jaskier, to the bard's own credit or the wine flowing through him. He groans when Geralt bats his hands away from where he's fondling himself, leans forward and sucks a mindless mark to the side of Geralt's throat.

Geralt thinks of the way Jaskier's whimpers had sounded in the deep nights just as he grabs hold of the cage and squeezes.

The effect is immediate, though he doubts Jaskier gets any physical stimulation off it. Still, he chokes on a breath, and whines, and suddenly he's trembling wildly against Geralt's side.

Geralt tightens his hold just a little. They both hold their breath when the metal creaks pitifully beneath his fingers.

"Geralt," Jaskier says again, but this time his voice waivers with dread.

Geralt's whole body hums, sings, screams at him to grip just that much harder, fuck--perhaps enough to warp the cage, so it always digs into hot flesh and reminds Jaskier that it could have been his bare prick crushed in Geralt's fist instead, perhaps--

He lets go with a shuddering exhale, rolling swiftly on his side, back turned to where Jaskier's gulping down lungfuls of air.

"Tomorrow," Geralt says, all too loud in the darkness. "You can--I'll let you come."

"You'll take it off?"

"I'll let you come."

Geralt doesn't sleep, arousal hot in his core, skin prickling with anticipation.

***

"Fuck," Jaskier whispers heartily. His hands tremble where they rest, bound, at the small of his back. Should've got the gag, too. "Fuck, you bastard."

He's quite the sight, like this, knelt on the bed with his knees spread and his face shoved into the blankets. Open. Presenting. Captive and helpless and entirely at Geralt's mercy.

Geralt has yet to decide how merciful he's feeling.

He gets an eyeful of Jaskier's round arse sloping beautifully into the arched curve of his spine. Geralt aches to touch, yet he does not.

"You said--" Jaskier begins, muffled against the bedding.

"I know. Patience."

His own cock throbs, confined in his leathers, and Geralt reels at the thought that Jaskier's suffered through this for weeks.

He weighs his options. Reaches for the oil he keeps in case he needs to take Jaskier's cage off. Pulls his hand back before he manages to grab it, thinking. Thinking.

Jaskier wails when Geralt buries his face between his cheeks, tongue flat against his tight, untouched hole.

"Geralt, Geralt, Geralt--"

And Geralt never thought he would want this--never thought he could have this--but a flame of possession, of ownership flares bright and hot in his chest, and he knows he won't ever want anything else.

"That's filthy, you--"

Jaskier mewls and gasps, his thighs quivering until they give out, knees sliding impossibly more apart. Geralt fucks him with his tongue and goes near-delirious when Jaskier cries, big, heaving sobs shaking his body. He tastes decadent. He tastes of despair.

Jaskier's bound hands reach Geralt's head, long fingers weaving into his hair, pulling, holding. Geralt works his jaw greedily and Jaskier's body parts for him, unravels and blooms until even Geralt can't stand it any longer.

The outraged huff Jaskier gives when Geralt flips him heavily to sprawl on his back is vaguely amusing; nearly enough to cut through the thick cloud of desire settled over Geralt's mind, though not quite.

Oil spills over his fingers before he knows it, slicks Jaskier's feverish skin, makes it glimmer and glisten. His fingertips caress the steel cage almost reverently. He stares at it, at Jaskier's gorgeous prick flushed an angry red, swelling against the bars. He stares and it's as if a spell carves itself into his bones, heavy and binding and inevitable.

He pushes two fingers inside Jaskier just as he leans in to put his mouth around that cute little prick, cage and all. It clinks against his teeth. Geralt forces his tongue between rigid metal bars, desperate for a taste. Jaskier writhes beneath him, but his arms are still tied behind his back, immobilised between him and the bedding.

The cage is so small it doesn't even reach Geralt's throat and that's--

Fuck.

Fuck.

Geralt pumps his fingers blindly into Jaskier's tight hole, fits a third one in before he reasonably should. Jaskier moans delectably. His pleas grow in volume.

"Please let me come, pleaseletmecome, I'll be so, so good, I--I've been so good, Geralt, gods--"

Geralt presses his hips against the bed and guides his mouth higher, over Jaskier's trembling belly, over the ribs Geralt can now make out beneath his skin. He sucks a mark there, right over the bone. Moves higher. Thrusts his fingers faster, until he feels Jaskier jolt and his moans drip into a constant, maddening staccato. He puts his mouth around a nipple and finds it delightfully sensitive. He'll try, on another day, to get Jaskier to come just from having his tits fondled. Now, though--

Geralt wonders if he can fit a fourth finger without reaching for the oil.

He can.

A bite just below Jaskier's jaw. A hand closing tenderly around the cage. Squeezing. Crushing. Jaskier goes still, silent, breathless--he clenches tight-tight-tight around Geralt's fingers as the sharp scent of his release pierces the air.

"Good boy," Geralt says, watching Jaskier's soft cock spurt pitiful drops of come over his abdomen. Most of it catches on the cage. Geralt yearns to lap it up, but not before--

His own hand feels heavenly around his cock when he finally makes to undo his breeches. Geralt kneels between Jaskier's splayed legs; watches his hole spasm around nothing, the way his prick tries to twitch in its confines. It isn't long before his orgasm creeps up his spine, mind-numbing in its intensity.

Geralt spills over the cage.

Only then does he settle between his bard's thighs once more to lick him clean like a newborn cub.

[contaiinedarmageddon2]

Another day in another timeline Sollux had a different Aradia over. Not only was she quite tall, over ten feet plus her horns, but she was, as she likes to say, a proud fat nerd. And like any respectable nerd she was camped infront of the tv laying on her rug covering gut as she played his game grubs. Her even larger ass rising above her, the immense grey boulders taller than troll completely engulfing her underwear, while her pitiful excuse for a skirt was bunched up on her back

"Sollux! Im horny, come fuck my ass!"

"You're always horny, you get caught in doors almost as much as tv does! Anyways what do I look like, a bang maid?"

"No, but only because you won't wear the outfit. 0n0 Besides its not like your doing anything other than jerk off your diffidence excretor!"

"It's your outfit! If you won't why should I? Anyways I'll have you know I'm up to your spheres in a project right now, try a little patience."

Aradia grunts and just psionically pulls Sollux over, monitor tower and all, which is easier than it sounds considering Sollux is only several inches tall. Taking off his pants she psionically caresses his bulge, electric sparks of pleasure zapping along its expanding length, getting the monster length worked up and hard. His hardware was plopped atop her twin moons, in easy reach, while he was pressed into her deep crack, already troll devouring in size to normal trolls to Sollux it was if the ground itself split apart and beneath it was ass.

And for good measure she also freezes his arms until he gets to work.

((Decent sized prompt below the cut, nsfw))

Most nights, this would’ve been a perfect scenario for Sollux. An Aradia chatting him up trying to get into his game grub collection? Could hardly tell her no. Unfortunately, two miscalculations followed. One, attempting to set a specific date with a Time player juggling a limitless amount of different dates all at once instead of just saying the night you were going to be busy. Two, that rather than patience she would have a libido as big as her ass. As his slightly over half a foot frame was yanked airborne, all he could think was that if he missed this deadline she owed him a rewind.

Where she learned to do it was a mystery to him, but it was hard to cross your arms and scowl when someone is practically vibrating your dick. Sollux closed his eyes and took steady breaths, trying not to think about her biting her full lips as a blush crept across her face at the feel of her mental constructs wrapped around his monstrously disproportionate shaft... Dammit he was failing miserably. At least there was no Serket around to make quips about him being 8″ 8′

Sollux opened his eyes only to briefly see the great cleft in the vast moonscape reaching out to welcome him, before darkness once again as he crashed down into their gelatinous embrace. Without his arms to brace with, rather than settle onto or slightly wedge at the top of the crack like his computer had, the weight of his prodigious endowment given momentum by Aradia herself dragged him downward into the cleft. Eventually the way each fat cheek rested against the other created enough resistance to stop his descent, helped by his rapidly hardening bulge touching down against her backside deep below.

For Aradia this was enough to draw a small pleased sigh. Sure she had toys, but she couldn’t even fully reach back there without her psionics! This was real, and she planned to savor the feel of every inch of it pressing back against her elephantine cheeks and twitching with vitality... Or maybe that twitching was Sollux struggling not to be further consumed. Aradia might’ve forgotten he’d probably need leverage to get much done even if his dick had agreed to her demands. She gave a quiet apology and freed his arms, feeling his hands gripping her as the yellowblood pulled himself back up. Maybe some other time she’d like to feel the rush of silencing Sollux’s griping by stuffing him nice and deep between her pride and joy, but for now Aradia wanted them both to relax and both to enjoy each other.

Back on top Mt. Megido peaks and unaware what the future may have in store, Sollux was back into the light and holding onto his computer almost like a life preserver. As if to further add to the analogy he heard Aradia give a smug little laugh and begin slowly tilting from side to side. It took a few seconds for the effects to even reach Sollux on top as he was, but the world became a tilting theme park ride as Aradia’s ass began wobbling and pitching from side to side. Sollux had to keep hold of his electronics to keep them from flying off but was himself anchored firmly in place. Said anchor was being squeezed and kneaded by the shifting walls of Megido meat as she toyed with him.

“Enough stalling Captor! I can still play if I’m on top you know.”

He could almost hear the damn emoticon. Fine, he wasn’t getting out of this any other way, sometimes you just have to fuck a time goddess. Braced (and occasionally even able to type on) against his computer and thoroughly hotdogged to hardness Sollux found his mark and started to push. Despite eagerness and countless toys training it, the greedy rustblood’s pucker still gave some resistance to her newest toy’s first thrusts. At last being filled how she’d craved, Aradia let out a moan of both relief and pure lust.

Each thrust took the yellowblood a little deeper. The soft, squeezing canyon of her asscheeks traded for the incredible tightness inside her. Practicality kept him from slamming his hips with reckless abandon. If he put too much into it he might start sinking into that vast ocean of soft grey, plus he might be giving into to both of their base desires here but he still had to try and not lose completely. Still the size of the cock steadily plowing into her transferred a great deal of force no matter how casual the strokes were. Laying atop the pudgy cushioning of her own belly, Aradia slowly started to slide back and forth with each pounding movement. This rhythm helped force even more of her partner’s impossible shaft deeper into her while she panted and bit her lip, now having to try and force her attention back to her own gaming.

So the two continued into the night, casually competing to see who could force the other to give up on their secondary pursuit. Sollux occasionally wondered if he had seen the moon move past his window more than once. Aradia gave her ass a psionic slap powerful enough to set it jiggling for the next few minutes if she caught him slowing down to think instead of fucking her.

[shaydeoffical]

If the World was Ending. Denki x Reader

Summary: You and Denki dated for two years before his chaotic work week got between you. The final straw was when he missed your sister’s wedding and you didn’t have a partner to walk you down the aisle. Denki was working himself to the bone, and being reckless. You split before you get the chance to see him run himself into the ground. But when the earth begins to shake, there’s only one person you want more than anyone else.  

Words: 2K 

If the World Was Ending

   It was three in the morning when the earthquakes started. My power went out, my fish tank shattered, and my bed rattled. Hurrying, I blindly scoped Bubbles up from the floor and put him into the cup of water on my bedside table. My bookshelf hit the floor barley missing my toes. Grasping my glasses, and dodging the frame that fell from above my bed, I fell reaching for my desk.

   Before I could hide under a table, it was over. Glass was embedded in my foot, blood trailed through the carpet. "What the hell just-"I  sprang up, wincing before sinking into the bed. Pushing my hair back, securing Bubbles in my dresser drawer in a bundle of clothes, I just took a deep breath.

   I hoped he was safe.

   Hand hoovering my phone, the screen had yet to light up. Still, I pulled up the blank contact, wondering if I should try it. Surely, I was blocked…its not like we ended on bad terms, but it wasn't right to get in his way now.

   Another rumble shook my cottage, my thumb pressing the contact before dropping my phone altogether. "Shi- shit." Leaving my phone, I dashed under my desk and waited for it to end. Tears welled in my eyes, and I counted backward from one hundred. Before I got to seventy, it was over.

   This time, I went to look out my bedroom window. The city was in flames. There was a distant glow of emergency services and smoke raising. Was Kami okay? "Denki."

   My phone had gone straight to voicemail. I ended the memo and tried to turn on my data to see what the news was saying. Nothing, so the cell towers were down. It was pointless to call him dumb even. He had nothing left for me, and I had nothing for him.  

   "Stupid stupid stupid." I limped into the kitchen, pulling out my flashlights, and getting a basin of water. Slowly I began to pluck the glass from my heel. I hoped he was home, tucked away for the night. Maybe, he slept right through it and would wake up just fine. Better yet, perhaps he was away for work and had no clue any of this was happening.    

More rumbles and my tiny chandelier was swinging wildly. My dirty water sloshing into the floor, and spreading to the living room. This time I hid under the archway and waited it out. My stomach churned with knots, light-headed, and tired. Today was going to be over soon enough… My knees gave up under me, one of my cabinets bursting open, and the china splattering all over the floor.

   "Denki," I whispered, gripping handfuls of plush carpet and crying. Nothing was the same, we ended on good terms. He was to busy with work, and I wasn't ready to commit. That doesn't mean he wouldn't come to me. Did he have this calling in his chest? The unmistakable rumble in my soul, longing for his embrace.    

   Pressing the am setting on the radio, I slid the seat back and covered my head. There was no static, no alarms or warning.

   My finger wavered over his contact, the one I swore I'd delete last year. The one with a blank profile picture and a fake name. Still, I only hoovered, the trembling was inching me closer to knowing the truth. Was I blocked? Did he even have my number in his phone? Was he on a date or running home? He such a flirt there was no way he'd be at home on a Saturday.

   Clawing at my chest, I braced with the other hand. I wanted him, needed him. For all, I knew he was in the arms of another, but I needed him. I had to move.

   Once the shaking was over, I put my shoes limping over the debris and slinging open my front door. A hand brought down on my nose in a 'knocking' motion. "Oh shit," he yelled, pulling me into his arms, pushing my hand from my nose and examining it. Bright yellow eyes peering into me. I could never forget that hue or the way they looked straight through me. "I was just paroling the area, and-"

   "You didn't get my call?" He nursed my face, rubbing his finger over the bridge of my nose, cooing.

   "You still have my number?" he smiled, pushing the hair from my eyes.

   "Hu," I pulled back, the earth erupting again. Denki shoved me against his chest and covered my head, standing under the doorway.

   "Hold tight Kitty," he purred in my ear. Sensations that I thought were dead bloomed within my stomach. The familiar scent of old spice and hair gel, creating an oldy calming fog around me.

   I wound my first in his button-up, burying my head in chest. The tv hit the floor behind me, and the coo-coo clock toppled over screaming.        

        Flinching as a coil hit my ankle, Denki squished me deeper under his chest. "I needed you. I just didn't think you'd come," I wept, the termer ending, but Denki's hold staying strong. "I want you. I always want you when I'm scared."

   "So many times, I've thought about coming by. I just knew if the world was ending, I wanted to be beside you." Slowly I looked up, our lips inching closer. "Do you want to?"

   Meeting him in the middle, our lips meet in quick peeks. It was slow, till he bites the bottom of my lip. Grasing my thigh, he pulled my leg onto his hip, pinning me against the door frame. Moving down my throat, leaving little kisses and peaks. "Chargebolt," I let out his hero name in a moan, his ultimate trigger.  As if a year hadn't passed, he picked me up, danced over the ruins, and straight to my bedroom.

   "I missed you," I gasped, fiddling with the top buttons of his shirt. He slipped it past his shoulders and exposed his stomach. There was a new scar, bubbled up but faded. His eyes followed mine, and he softened, covering his skin. His gaze going to the door, lip sucked in.  

   "It's nothing, (Y/n)." He started to put his shirt back on, and I grabbed the sides of the shirt. "Kitten," he pleased for me to let it go.

   "You don't have to hide from me." Moving his hands aside, I rubbed the area in the dark. The wound was just under his ribs and ran diagonally to his pelvis. He was watching my every move, shivering while my fingers traced around the once life-threatening injury. Knowing I could have lost him forever, I kissed the mark. "Im sorry for- uh." Denki was on top of me like a fly on sugar, caging me. The house shifting and popping with each quake. "Are we going to die?" I gripped to his shirt with one hand and covered his head with the other. He was alive, and here, and I was going to lose him.

   "No, Kitty, we're fine." He nibbled along my neck, distracting me as the episode started and stopped. Another round hit directly after and I wondered if the world was ending. "It's okay, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, baby." His voice didn't crack with any hint of fear. But his love bites were too straight for me to believe he was okay. He was usually a passionate, albeit sloppy, lover. If there was one thing I understood, it was that Denki Kaminair was worried...and still cared about me.

   My breath hitched in my throat. Could he really just stay? "Denki, I don't want to ever say goodbye again." I dug my nails through his hair, not believing that he was really here. That after all this time, he was holding me, protecting me, as if everything had changed and nothing at the same time. As if we were where we needed to be before we ultimately died.

   "You don't have to. Never again." The quake stopped. Denki lowered himself down, our lips latching in a slow kiss. His hands wound under my back, and he pulled us into a sitting position. I straddled his lap, hands around his neck, and his around my waist, sliding up my spine.

   "Do you mean it?" I asked as he trailed kissed down my collar bone, nipping and sucking in an erratic pattern. "Or do you just wanna?"

   "There hasn't been a day you haven't crossed my mind." He just gawked. It wasn't his typical lusty gaze with a smirk, but a soft longing. Lips parted with the smallest smile, brows raised in awe and gaze unwavering. Even his hands had yet to grab a handful of my ass. He was calculated, desperate, yet so afraid. This side of Denki is one I never saw in the two years we dated. "I still love you. There are just a few things I needed to learn to love you the way you deserved. When I alost lost my life, I realized I wanted to be a hero to the world, but more than that- I wanted to give my life to you. You were more than those long hours. There are so many heroes in the world, but I was yours- and I didn't show up when you needed me. That's never going to happen again."

   "Denki." I chewed my lower lip, his thumb pulling it from my teeth and brushing my cheek.

   "Don't cry, Kitty." He pressed our forehead together, tears streaming down his own face. "When you cry, I do."

   "You're such a goofball." I chuckled bursting into tears. "I missed you so bad." I kissed circles around his lips, then pecked them a few times. "I still love you too. Don't think that I want to stop you from being a hero. There's just one person in this world that I can't live without. Denki, I just want to see you more than twice a week." I admitted, leaving myself open to the pain, to him possible breaking my heart. He could up and leave when the quakes stop, or before I wake up. It was uncertain, but-

   "(Y/n), stop whatever you are thinking. I know that look, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not the same man who forgot missed your first surgery, or your sister's wedding." He pushed me back into bed, laying onto of me. Threading our hands together and slipping to the side, pushing me flush against him. "I didn't come over here because I was going to leave today, or ever. Well, if you told me too, I would have. I just realized what was important a few months ago, and after the shake, I knew I couldn't wait for a minute longer. I couldn't stop thinking about you about us. There's no natural disaster on earth that could keep me from you. Not now, not ever. If the world was ending, I'd still be right here Kitty."  

   "But you left before," I whispered, hiding my head in his chest to avoid any hurt his face could show. "And I didn't chase you. What about that? What does that say about me?"

   "That's never going to happen again. You shouldn't have had to run for me." Our fingers flexed, and he freed one hand, cupping my cheek. "I love you."

   Another tremor rocked our world, this one was shorter, but Denki still covered my head. The house settled once again; this time, there wasn't a loud clatter or splash. This time the world was quiet spare for the thumping in my ears, the blood working its up my face and into my head. I missed this feeling. "Hold me till tomorrow?" I asked, grabbing his collar and flipping him beside me.

   "I'll hold you forever." I snuggled into his chest, his lips connecting with my forehead. Our arms tangled around each other, and Denki's upper hand resting just across my hip. His slid hand under my shirt, rubbing images on my back. Spelling out the word love over and over again. Feeling brave, I wrapped my legs against his and rubbed his ankle with my toes.

   "I'm glad you came back." I yawned, kissing him before flopping my head against the pillow.  

   "I hope you feel the same way when you wake up." Denki giggled, opening my nightstand to put away his google. "Why is the fish in the draw?"

[bettersafethandicks]

hey i went digging in the landfill again and check it out its twince x reader

oh my god i did this too much i wrote too many word oh shit oh fuck im sorry

like a 75/25 split of troy : tyreen attention to the reader

a spiritual successor to my last troy/reader fic now that like, the games actually out.

contains: 0% sex

contains: CANNIBALISM yuck, nonsexual nudity on reader’s part, gender neutral reader, biting, blood stuff, drugging, kidnapping/getting a lil tied up, monster troy, getting touched n pampered like a nice spa day :), petstuff

5746 words jesus FUCK

It wasn’t the best job.  Sure, things could be worse; things could always be worse on Pandora, and one should count any second spent not prying their arm out of a skag’s mouth as a blessing.  Still, sitting up in a poorly-lit office perched over an eridium mine was so boring.

Officially, you were supposed to be here to oversee outgoing shipments and supply purchases; making sure the weight matched what was on paper …not that you knew what to do when it didn’t match.  That wasn’t your problem, though; you reported it in the daily logs and it was someone else’s corporate war after that.

“It’s time for our Flay of the Day!”

The little screen beside you cheered out in Tyreen Calypso’s energetic voice; the COV-sponsored ads had slowly begun to take over the Echonet recently.  They were always interesting, at least, certainly better than the Hyperion trash that was playing a few years ago.  Even if you didn’t tune into their dedicated channel, you didn’t mind the interruption of the background noise of Space Ghost Adventures.

You looked up from the spreadsheet to watch the short clip. Sometimes the Calypsos themselves would be on, usually if they had a recent raid or some ceremonial murders to show off.  Those were always the most entertaining, seeing the terrible, awesome power of the two of them; they were cool.  Tragically, today’s clip was user-submitted.  Bandits killing bandits- this was Pandora what else was new?

You turned back to your work, listening to the comical dubbed-in sound effects and Tyreen’s gleeful mocking.

Ear-splitting warning sirens jolted you upright.  You groaned, spinning around on your chair to the door.  Someone had pulled the stupid fucking alarm again and-

Screaming.  Yelling. Gunshots that weren’t coming from the screen.  Before you could even stand up to look out the window overlooking the mines, the door to your cramped office slammed open, and a burly, armor-covered bandit stomped toward you, gun drawn.

Your hands were in the air before you could even process it. Instead of the bullet between the eyes you were braced for, the guy was yelling at you to get the door to the safe; a second of hesitation to understand his words earned you a strike to the side of the head with the pistol.  After that you were at the safe, punching in codes and letting the tech scan your biometrics to disable the locks.  Shouting and gunfire was still audible from outside; you pressed your back to the wall of the little office as members of Pandora’s Official Welcome Committee filed in and emptied out the roomful of refined eridium and cash.  The bandit seemingly in charge kept his weapon trained on you, making sure you didn’t try to call in backup or reach for some hidden gun of your own.

It was stupid to think you’d get out of this, in hindsight.

A rather embarrassing yelp escaped you when the human wall holding you at gunpoint reached out to grab your arm.

“Take this one, too, ‘n be careful not to bang em up too much. The soft ones are great arena-bait.”  He grunted, handing you off to another bandit who yanked you effortlessly off your feet.

“Wait wait waitwaitwaitwait-“  You whined as you were dragged out of the room.  

Your begging fell on deaf ears; you looked at the mines as you were hauled off, seeing a few casualties on the ground, but not as many as you expected.  The workers had probably fled when the raid started, the lucky bastards.  Shackles were clamped onto your wrists before you were shoved roughly into the back of a technical with the rest of the loot, landing painfully on a brick of eridium.

The bumpy ride was lit by the soft purple glow of the alien mineral.  You knew you probably shouldn’t be this close to it, people got sick from this didn’t they? On second thought, eridium probably wasn’t the biggest threat to your health right now, you could worry about that later.  If you got a ‘later’.  

It was far too soon that the technical stopped, and the harsh light of the sun was blinding you again when the doors were yanked open. You were unceremoniously slung over some marauder’s shoulder and carried over to a cage and locked in without a word. The cages were stacked three high, and you were on the second ‘story’.  Not quite tall enough to stand up in, vertical bars, exposed on all sides, and generally as uncomfortable as possible; thankfully, the cages were in the shade, probably something they learned after finding some prisoners well-done in the Pandoran heat.  

“Hey!” You cried to the departing bandit “Wait!  I’m still- …” Your wrists were still bound; he was already back to unloading the technical.  With a huff, you slump against the bars.  

No one paid you much mind as they sorted through the spoils, which apparently included you.  Maybe someone nice would buy you.  Maybe one of them would have a change of heart and free you.  Maybe a rakk would fly over and start talking to you.

You had almost dozed off when the familiar sound of chaos started again.  Thugs rushed past you toward the gate of the camp, guns drawn and shouting to their fellow bandits to follow.  You stood as much as the cage would allow, craning your neck around to get a look at what was happening; you heard a psycho screaming before you saw anything-

“FOR THE GLORY OF THE TWIN GODS”

The Children of the Vault were here.

Everything slowed down.  Gunfire had started in earnest at this point; this was a real fight, unlike the sweeping takeover of the mine.  You’d never interacted with the cult in real life- you didn’t even know there was single a bandit clan on the planet still opposing them, nevermind that you’d get the shit luck to get kidnapped by one.  You weren’t really sure which side to root for- the bandit maniacs or the other bandit maniacs.

A stray bullet whistling past your ear snapped you out of it.  You sprang into action; namely collapsing to the floor of the cage and pretending the crossfire had hit true.  You played dead.  

The winning team was quickly apparent, with the COV’s terrible power quickly creeping through the camp.  A mixture of morbid curiosity and shock let you keep your eyes open, watching the carnage.  A feral cheer swelled among their ranks, but you didn’t dare sit up and look toward them to see why- not that it mattered, it was clear soon enough.

The Sirens.  

Your heart jumped.  Adrenaline rushed uselessly through your blood, catching a glimpse of the figures you had only ever seen executing heretics and raiders on screens. Tyreen was striding a path through the chaos, outstretching an arm and draining the life from those running away, and a few fools who tried to run toward her as well.  She laughed, called out taunts and praised her followers.  A cambot whirred behind her, swooping around to get the best angles of the dead and dying.  Seeing her in person, physically there only a few meters from you, leeching bandits into frozen husks in seconds; it was suddenly too real.  She was real and she was here she was devastating and she was enjoying it.

You were so transfixed by Tyreen you almost forgot to wonder; where was-

A screaming bandit slammed into the bars of your cage.

You couldn’t help but jolt- but he wasn’t facing you.  Troy Calypso was on him, huge prosthetic hand gripping the man’s head and bashing it against the bars a second time, stunning him. Troy’s face shifted.  You watched in primal fear as that arrogant smirk grew into a grin, and kept going.  Gold glinted on inhuman fangs, ever more revealed as his cheek cracked open along the lines on his face, metal clips coming undone.  His bottom lip split in the center, and all at once the rumors that Troy Calypso’s mods went further than just his arm were confirmed.

The jagged show of teeth disappeared as he jerked his head forward, sinking his fangs deep into the poor bastard’s throat.  You were frozen, lying there like a cornered rabbit, not even having the sense to shut your eyes.  Some primitive part of your brain was telling you if you didn’t move a muscle, you’d be okay, that moving would only attract the predator’s attention.  

Troy’s eyes were closed, blood pulsing out over his face; his nose wrinkled as he tightened his grip with a growl, something in the man’s throat giving way and letting those jaws slice deeper in.  He was inches from your face.  The poor bastard made a sickening gargling noise, and then was quiet.  For a few seconds, all you could hear was your own deafening heartbeat racing in your ears, the clamor of the vicious raid was so distant; unimportant.  

A wet, tearing, popping sound brought everything back as Troy pulled away, taking the mouthful of flesh with him.  His jaws flexed asymmetrically as he swallowed, letting the limp body collapse to the dirt, Troy’s face and chest coated in red.  The siren let out a pleased sigh, expression hazy as a too-long tongue lapped over the grotesque skag-like maw, doing next to nothing in his effort to clean the blood from it.

Icy blue eyes, suddenly lucid and striking and predatory snapped to yours.  

You stopped breathing.  Troy’s jaw slid together, enough that you could make out the sharp grin.  

“Ohh, playing dead, huh?”

You could barely hear the question.  

He leaned in, nose almost touching the bars, eyes searing into you.  

“Cleveeer.” He slurred; mouth still broken at the seams.

Troy winked at you, and turned to revel in the massacre with his twin.  

The rest of the fight passed by in a blur; all you could think about was Troy’s eyes, so blue against that mask of red, the blood falling from the edge of his jaw in slimy bright red strings and you could swear you could hear it patter on the ground, the way the alien tattoos flowing over his face gave off such enticing light-

Had you ever seen someone die so close before?  Sure, distantly, but it was always over there. You had dried blood on your cheek.

You hadn’t even realized the bullets had stopped flying.

“That one.”

“The dead one?”

“Yeah.  Bring it to me.”

No- nonononononono- no no Troy Calypso was not talking about you the heavy footsteps of a bandit fanatic were not getting closer he hadn’t just ordered you to be brought to him you’re dead you aren’t worth anyone’s time you’ve been dead this whole raid just leave just get out no no no please-

           You heard the lock crack under a sharp blow.

“Eww, what, you’re a scavenger now, Troy?  I thought you liked them kicking?”  Tyreen, her voice so clear when it wasn’t sent through a speaker, so close-

Your still-shackled hands were locked around the metal bars the moment the bandit took hold of your clothing, springing to life in a blind terror. You realized you were screaming, wailing for help you knew wasn’t out there; you were plucked from the cage, grip broken like it was nothing.  Tyreen and Troy got nearer with every step as you were hauled over to them, struggling and begging.  

Tears were stinging your eyes by the time the fanatic stopped in front of the sirens; you curled up in his grip, squeezing your eyes shut and bracing yourself to be leeched or shot or something.

“Heh, y’see?  Already all wrapped up and everything.”  You cracked an eye open, heart in your throat.  Troy jerked a thumb toward a massive war technical.  “Put ‘em in the carrier, we’ll get shots at camp- better lighting n’ sound.”

Tyreen caught your eye as you passed by, head tilting and siren markings glowing softly; your blood ran cold when she gave you a deadly smirk. Tyreen smiling was the same level of bad news as Tyreen frowning; maybe worse.  

Still reeling, you were shoved into an empty barrel attached to the side of the technical. A metal grate had been fitted to the front on a hinge, and just like that you were in another cage.  The barrel titled back, rolling you to the closed end and you had no choice but to sit in the cramped little container while they finished raiding the camp.  

You couldn’t see much more than the darkening sky on the drive to…wherever you were going.  It felt like they had given the wheel to the most erratic psycho in the cult, and you were battered around the metal tube like a cocktail shaker.  By the time the vehicle pulled in to some kind of garage, you were positive you were going to vomit or pass out or both.  

Heavy bootsteps approached, and the barrel was tilted 180 degrees while the door was flung open, dumping you roughly to the ground.  You curled up, letting out a strained whine of pain.  

“Aaand here’s our new project!  Wanted to get some ‘before’ shots of it.”  Troy poked you with his boot, turning you over onto your back.  A cambot flitted around you, zooming in and out. “Grabbed this treat at the last heretic cleanse, you can see highlights of that party right here- “ He pointed up and to his right, where he’d presumably be editing in a link to the massacre you had just been a part of.  

On your back, wrists bound in front of you, bashed up and terrified, the sight of Troy Calypso towering over you made you certain you were about to die.  When he reached down with that brutal mechanical to grab your wrists you couldn’t help but shriek, trying your best to scrabble away from his touch.

Troy barked out a laugh, easily catching you and pulling you upright.

“Tch, aww, lookit this sad little stray.”  His tone was mocking, amused.   His normal hand wrapped around your jaw, firmly tilting your face this was and that for the camera.  You got a quick view of your surroundings, a massive technical bay, surprisingly organized for the chaotic exterior of the cult.  Devotees were scattered around, working on vehicles and otherwise giving Troy a wide, cautious radius.

“Yeah, this’ll be nice and fixed up.  You guys won’t even recognize them by the end of this one.” He rubbed his thumb across your cheek, and you realized you had been bleeding.  “Alright, that’s the end of introductions, I wanna get this thing started.  See you in a bit!”  

The cambot gave a chirp, and its red recording light blinked off at Troy’s cue.  Troy lifted his blood-smeared thumb to his mouth, and licked it.  

“Hoo, wow.”  Troy exhaled sharply. “Yeah, ah, get them goin’ for me, make it good.“  He motioned to two robed figures standing off to the side, seemingly waiting for this invitation.  “Mmh, behave for them, hm sweetheart?”  Troy gave you a flash of sharp teeth in a crooked smile.

Cultists guided you away in a fog.  By this point you had been through way too much for the past however-many hours, and you obediently stumbled along for them.  You just wanted to lie down and wake up.  The noise and bustle of the compound began to thin the deeper into the building you were led, and your chaperons weren’t exactly talkative. This was all probably very secret and important, and maybe you’d be looking around in wonder at the magnificent décor if you could keep your eyes focused.

Heavy, ornate doors pulled open at the end of a particularly holy looking hall; a tiled room, decorated in mosaic patterns of red and blue, twisting snakes and wide starburst eyes, designs leading off along the floor into different rooms.  The sound of water running came from somewhere, echoing off the tile.  The room smelled sweet, vaguely floral but not overpoweringly so, and the air was heavy and humid.  Now you were staring around in wonder, too much to even notice the additional attendants had begun to undo the buttons and straps of your clothing.  

You tripped back, yanking your shackles from the hands of an acolyte you hadn’t seen.

“Calm yourself, Lamb.”  A priest rasped; the first time you had heard one speak.  “No harm will come to you here, you are protected under the power of the godking.”

“W-what does that mean?”  Your voice cracked now that you had finally found it, and it struck you how thirsty you were.

A cultist took your hands once again, working at the mechanism on the shackles.  “You are being readied for Troy Calypso, as He has requested.  The cleansing process is not a painful one, simply relax.”

The lock jolted, and the heavy metal fell from your wrists with a thunk.  Another fanatic carried it off, and you realized just how many figures were bustling around the room.  You tensed up, jaw tightening as an attendant resumed undoing the many straps and laces of the clothing necessary for the desert planet.  A lump formed in your throat as you fought the urge to tear yourself away.

The discomfort must’ve been radiating from you, because one of them spoke up.  “You need not be so uneasy; we have no desires of our own, only to serve the Twin Gods.  To act out from their wishes would be deserving of an unholy death.”  Nodding and soft murmurs of agreement sounded out around the room.  

Literal and figurative armor was pulled from you, the warm air now more welcoming than stifling.  A white towel was wrapped around your body, and you got the feeling it was for your own benefit.  

“Are you familiar with washing?”  You’d feel offended if you were on any other planet; here it was a reasonable question.

“Uh, yes.”  

“Very well.  Come along, Lamb.”  

The room you were led into was even more warm and misty than the antechamber, a slight fog hanging in the air from heated water.  Opulent mosaics on the wall depicted the twin gods lounging in golden robes, light rays shining out from them.  A stonework shower was built into a corner, and you were guided toward it, a washcloth and pitch-black bar of unscented soap waiting in the hands of a cultist.  You hesitantly took the objects, and handed over your towel with some reluctance.  

A glass door provided some barrier between you and your audience, who thankfully really did seem uninterested.  Being exposed was not something you were used to on Pandora- or, at all really.  Two silver knobs in front of you were self-explanatory, and you turned on the water-

Hot water.  God, how long had it been since you had a hot shower?  You let out a gasp, shoulders slumping as you turned your face up to the stream.  You opened your mouth, filling it with water and swishing it around, drinking some when you realized it tasted clean.  It felt like pounds of dust was being rinsed off your skin, and you rubbed at your face, reveling in the stark difference between this and standing under a freezing hose for a few minutes.  

The black bar of soap lathered nicely, and you set to work scrubbing off your battered and dry skin.  Wisps of red swirled down the drain as you washed all the cuts and scrapes you had accumulated, as well as some blood that probably wasn’t even yours. You washed yourself less out of submission to the COV, and more because you just wanted to feel human again.

Reluctantly, you eventually stepped out of the shower, not wanting to leave but also not wanting to keep a bunch of vicious cultists waiting too long.  Instead of handing you a towel though, the robed acolyte took you toward a large clawfoot tub on the other side of the room.  You’d only ever seen those in movies- the edges curved out gracefully, and the bath was already filled; petals of a flower you couldn’t identify floated in the purple-tinted water.  The cultist held their hand out, offering you help getting in.  

Taking the hand, you dipped one foot in.  The water was hot, on the edge of being too hot, but not quite.  You slipped into the bath, sinking into the enveloping heat; you felt like you could drift off. Fingers wove into your hair, making you jump-

“Shhhhh, relax.”  The cultist soothed.  

You obeyed, figuring it was a little late to start resisting now. Gently, they worked the tangles out of your wet hair, brought on mostly by your recent experience as a twice-over prisoner.  More cultists appeared, pouring softly-scented liquids and powders into the bath, and you become aware of a not-unpleasant tingling feeling creeping over your skin.  You let your eyes slide shut, listening to the quiet shuffle of the cult members echoing on the tile and the low, (admittedly pretty) hymns playing from somewhere.

A depression in the bath’s edge provided a perfect fit for you to rest your head, feeling the hands working through your hair hanging over the edge, massaging your scalp and working some kind of shampoo into it.  A handheld sprayer rinsed the lather from your head, and you were released to fully recline in the tub.  You let your ears dip under the water, outside sounds gone, leaving you alone with your heartbeat.  Your body bounced ever so slightly in the water as you breathed, the bath large enough for you to float without touching the bottom or sides.  You could fall asleep here.

In fact, you did.  

You had no idea how long you had been unconscious, only that someone was pulling you from the bath, hooking their hands under your arms and lifting you out.  The water had cooled significantly, but it wasn’t yet room temperature.  You mumbled softly.

“Apologies Lamb, but we cannot allow you to soak any longer.” A cultist was at your side, wrapping a fluffy, deep red towel around you the moment you were out of the bath.  “The next step in the process awaits.”

Your legs felt heavy as you were led out of the bathing room and into another gorgeous space.  When they guided you to a cushioned, slightly reclined chair, you didn’t question it. If they wanted to treat you to some weird spa day before…whatever happened, then fine.  The small room was lit dimly, mostly with candles.

The dirt was scrubbed from under your nails, hands given a light massage once clean.  

“Eat, Lamb.”  You opened your eyes to a cultist offering you some kind of food.   They held the bite out to you from a fork, but didn’t object to you taking the plate yourself.

You had forgotten how hungry you were, after being kept for however many hours in the sun and rattled around in two separate bandit vehicles.  The food was…some kind of meat, you’d seen more suspicious.  You’d seen less suspicious too, but it smelled good and wasn’t burned to charcoal; it actually seemed seasoned and prepared, imagine that.

Eating with so many eyes on you would normally have made you uncomfortable, but you were too starved to care.  Almost immediately, a priest was there with another plate, this one carrying an assortment of fruits; some you had never seen before.  Normally you had to fight off scurvy with vitamin tablets, fruit was a rare luxury here, even when it was in season.  The COV must’ve had it imported in from off-planet…

You picked out a few grapes, not yet brave enough to try one of the glowy things.  A reddish tinted drink was given to you in a wine glass; you half expected some alcoholic burn, but it was cool and sweet and made your mouth feel a little fuzzy instead. Hands rubbed at your shoulders, slowly easing the knots out of your muscles, a cultist occasionally encouraging you to try another bit of fruit.  Eventually you were taken to a cushioned table and made to lie down, the towel removed and replaced with a warm blanket laid across you.  

Years-worth of aches and soreness was slowly worked out of your back, spine cracking in a satisfying way every so often.  Oils and lotions were rubbed into your skin, your joints being stretched gently by several hands at once, all the while you felt more and more dazed.  

After a soothing lifetime of being massaged and tended to, you were pulled to your feet.  You weren’t even concerned with being exposed anymore, and they led you back out into the main lobby of the area where an especially-holy-looking acolyte stood with a drape of shimmery fabric laid across her arms.  A lower-ranked cultist stood holding a smoking container of incense, and they approached you, mumbling some prayer you couldn’t pay attention to if you tried.  You obliged them, allowing the priest to pull the white shawl over your body.

Once the priest had finished muttering the praises and blessings or whatever she was doing, a particularly large cultist came forward and simply picked you up.  You limply allowed it, now just along for whatever ride they decided to take you on. You were carried down some halls; you couldn’t really pay attention to the surroundings anymore.  Eventually, you reached your destination, and they laid you out on an altar in the center of a temple-like room.  After a few more prayers and responses from your entourage, the cultists all left you, heavy doors creaking shut and leaving you in silence.

You felt distant, lying there on the chilly gilded altar.  No doubt due to the strange drugs that had been soaked and rubbed and fed to you, but…it felt okay.  You couldn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed, this peaceful.  The now empty room was beautiful from what you could see, all stained glass and candles and regal draped fabric, the spicy scent of incense hanging in the air.  The silky robe the attendants had wrapped you in feeling so soft on your skin, yet another a luxury you’d never experienced before.

You couldn’t even find the care to pick up your head when you heard the huge doors open.  A cambot whirred into view, and you could hear Troy before you saw him.

“Leeet’s see the finished product!”  The siren came into view, towering over you, appraising his servants’ work.  “Ooh, goddamn would you look at that.” His fingertips grazed over your jaw, and you felt compelled to tilt your head to the side, letting him continue down the side of your throat.  “Aww, see? So obedient.  All that fear just-” he gestured with his mech hand, as if waving something away.  “-gone. So committed to your blessed purpose now.”

Troy leaned down, nudging his face under your chin, close enough that the tip of his nose ghosted over your skin.  You shivered a little at the touch, but had no instinct to recoil; he inhaled deeply, exhaling through parted lips.  A rumbling noise, something between a purr and a growl, buzzed ever so softly from his throat.  

 “Ah-“  He stood straight again, running a hand through his hair and visibly unfocused.  “Uh- heh, right, hang on I gotta get some shots for the unpaid version.”  

The cambot bobbed back around, and you shifted slightly, feeling almost sleepy under the gaze of this apex predator and his billions of followers.

Soon enough, it seemed Troy had gotten the shots he needed, and moved in again.  His hand, warm where the glowing siren tattoos snaked over it, slid the robe from your shoulder.  Troy nestled his head up to the exposed skin, and you gasped a little when the wet heat of his tongue slid over your collarbone.

Troy gripped your sides, and bit.

You twitched at his sharpened teeth sinking into your shoulder, but couldn’t muster more than that.  

A deep groan rumbled from the siren’s chest, his jaw tightening on you; curiously, it didn’t hurt as much as you expected.  Some pinching and a deal of pressure were there, but the drugs you were full of seemed to be keeping you nicely distant from your nervous system.  You could feel Troy’s jaw moving as he took blood, and he pulled away with a huff before licking over the wound.

“Gh, f-fuck-“  Troy’s face split open as he spit out the word.  

Troy was on the altar, hauling himself up to straddle you in one easy motion.  He looked down at you, arms caging you in on either side of your body; pupils blown huge, monstrous jaws hanging open.  All at once his head jerked downward, and he snapped his teeth into your torso with a wet cracking noise.

You body jumped a little at the impact, and you felt the crunch of bone vibrate through your chest.  Troy pulled back, jagged teeth raking through your flesh easily, and you could see broken shards of white in the gore he held between his fangs.  He snapped his jaws, getting a better grip on the meat to swallow it, barely a second passing before he was burying his face back in your ribs. Troy ripped and tore like a feral animal, panting for breath between mouthfuls of you; all the while you could do nothing but lay there, impassive; obedient.

“Weeeell look who’s having a good time!  Hope you Elpis-tier followers are enjoying my brother chowing down on this snackrifice we’ve got here today!”  Tyreen.  You tilted your head to the side, vision bouncing a little as Troy ate.  She was swaying in, speaking to the cambot that had pulled out to get a larger shot of her apparently-scripted entrance.  “Sometimes, you just want a break from the howls of agony- hard to believe, I know! But who doesn’t love options!  And really, who can argue with a sweet little offering who knows how to give their flesh so well?  I mean, just look at that!”

Tyreen strolled closer, giving you a smile; your muddled brain couldn’t tell if it was soft or mocking.  She put her hands on the altar, and Troy let out a snarl from somewhere inside your chest.

“How’re you doin, sweetie?”  She cooed, leaning over your face and ignoring her twin’s predatory growl. “Fuck you smell good.  Cut that last bit out Troy.”  

He gave an agreeing mutter in response, before pulling up, exhaling sharply.

“Ahh god Ty can you f-feel how much energy they’re gi-giving off?”  His speech was almost incomprehensibly slurred between the split jaws and the blood and muscle dripping from his mouth.  

“Mhh, yeah.  They’re from that stripped eridium mine, right?”  You could feel Tyreen probing at the deep bite in your shoulder.

You mumbled softly, unable to form words. She raised her fingertips to her mouth to lick your blood from them.

Troy’s too-long tongue slid over his left jaw, long enough to wrap around the edge.  He groaned quietly, a strange purring vibration to the sound.  “They gotta be.”  He dipped back down, unable to keep his fangs off you for too long.

Tyreen was leaning in too, eyes drifting shut.  Her lips made contact with the blood still pulsing from your shoulder in a soft kiss, before she too was running her tongue over your skin. Her fingertips met your chin, tilting your head to the side to give her some room.  Teeth, less sharpened than her brother’s but still capable of breaking skin, bit into an untouched spot with a satisfied hum.

“Hhhg, ffuckin get your own.”  Troy’s voice was muffled, barely lifting his head from your body.  

She didn’t respond, but they both seemed content to stop bickering and lose themselves in your blood.  You were drifting, detached.  It wasn’t how you thought you were going to end up dying, but all things considered, it could be a lot worse.  At least you got preened and pampered before being torn apart by some monstrous sirens.

The distinct pressure and sound of another rib crunching away brought you out of your musings.  It struck you how far up he was; how many bones he had already snapped through. You mustered enough strength to open your eyes and look down at the surreal sight of Troy, half his face buried in your cracked open chest.

His eyes, thin rings of pale blue around dilated pupils, met yours. He lifted himself, blood hanging in strings between his face and your torso.  

Troy spoke.  You couldn’t hear a word of it.  Just a muted drone of sound as your vision wavered in and out of focus.  You were so tired.  He reached to your face, running a hand over your cheek.  He was so warm. You couldn’t help but let your head flop to the side, into his touch.

Tyreen- you had just about forgotten she was there until she pulled away from you, feeling like she had always meant to be at your throat, draining the life from you so gently.  She said something.  Even so close to your ear, you couldn’t understand the deadly-sweet words.

You let your eyes close.  You let go.

  ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 Awake.  You were awake.  You shouldn’t be awake.

You were lying down, on a…a bed.  You shifted around, shocked to find all your limbs attached and no gaping hole in your abdomen.  

“Ha!  Bet you’re surprised to be alive!  I try to keep the healing stuff on the down-low, don’t really want the whole fam asking me for favors.”  Tyreen’s voice made you bolt upright.  Something around your neck jingled.

You reached up, grabbing at the source of the noise-

“You like it?  Troy’s idea, thought it was cute.”  A little bell was hanging from the collar around your throat.

You brought your eyes up to Tyreen, almost scared to look directly at her.  You’d heard about how she liked to toy with people, how volatile she could be, and it felt like you were being tricked right now.

“You, uh, you aren’t gonna…kill me?”  You said something to her you spoke to this godlike siren-

Tyreen grinned.  She reached out to you, tattoos flaring light, and you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation of being drained to a crystalline husk in a second.  Instead, Tyreen Calypso booped your nose.

“You taste too way good to only have once, pet.”

[sladedick]

Hi! Here’s a prompt: Joey and Grant finding out Slade’s been ignoring them because he’s been busy fucking *coughrapingcough* Robin, them getting annoyed and going, ‘what’s so good about Robin anyway?!’, and then fucking(raping) Robin themselves to find out. Except Slade walks in on them, and is not impressed to see his property being touched by his other property.

anon your brain is MASSIVE. *flashbacks to that “robin and the wilsons” fic i’ve been meaning to write for ages*

content: nobody should read this, rape, underage, incest, im so self indulgent but i wuv them

ao3

Where did you get that? Joey signs. The key gleams in the light, Grant slipping it in the lock and turning it with a small click. The door to the basement opens with a slow creak.

“Pops needs to learn to be more careful with his keys,” Grant hisses back. There’s no reason to whisper, what with Ma being gone and Pops being out, but it feels like they should. Joey shifts from foot to foot nervously. Grant pushes past his brother to start down the stairs, Joey glancing nervously back as he starts down. The door remains cracked.

I still don’t know what we’re doing here, Joey tells him.

“He’s spending more time down here than with us,” Grant says angrily, a few steps ahead.

Isn’t that a good thing? Joey wants to ask, but it’s always pointless to interrogate Grant about Slade.

Grant reaches the bottom of the stairs, but it’s so dark that Joey almost bumps into him.

Are you sure we should be -

“Shut up, Jo,” Grant mutters, fumbling for the light switch. It flicks on to a small, cold room. They’ve been in the basement before, but this time it seems crueler, somehow. A door towers on the right, but their eyes are drawn to something else - the boy curled up on the ground, blinking dull eyes at them.

Dark, stringy hair falls around a deathly pale face. The boy’s utterly naked, and Joey thinks that he must be cold by the way he wraps his arms around himself and huddles in the corner. The chain is connected to a loop on his collar, snaking around him and latched to the wall.He had some idea of what Slade was keeping in the basement - the food he brought down there gave some idea. Grant seems less surprised. He must’ve known.

“He’s more interested in this than in his real family,” Grant says viciously. He doesn’t seem entirely sure of himself, now that he’s found the object of his anger, but he steps forwards anyways.

Careful, Joey signs. The boy looks like he might be feral or … something. He’s filthy, but it’s hard to tell the dirt caked under his nails apart from the bruises that stain his skin. But he doesn’t move, or hurt Grant.

“Don’t worry,” Grant says. Joey follows after him, hiding behind his brother’s wider figure. The boy’s eyes go wide at the mention of Slade, but he still doesn’t move. “I know what to do. I saw.” His eyes narrow. A hand fumbles with his belt, fingers slipping below the waistline.

Joey makes an indignant face. Grant!

“It’s what Slade does,” Grant says. Joey can see him hardening, working himself to readiness. “I want to see how he like this.”

Grant, are you sure -

Grant turns on him. “C’mon, Jo, it’ll be fine. It’ll be fun.” He pulls him closer. “Just follow my lead.” Grant’s cock slips out of his fly, one hand still on it as he grabsa hold of the chain to yank the boy forward. He stumbles, eyes wide. Joey catches sight of between his legs - barely any hair, and no dick, just a cunt.

“Please - ” the voice is cracked, as if it hasn’t tasted water in days.

“C’mon,” Grant says. The head of his cock bumps against a bruise on the boy’s cheek. “You know what to do. Do what you did for Pops.” A hand grabs at the boy’s stringy hair. “Suck.”

Wide blue eyes stare. Then, the boy shakes his head. Grant looks furious. He tries to force fingers into the boy’s mouth, prying apart his lips as his opponent shakes his head, despite the hand in his hair. Saliva gets all over Grant’s fingers as he tries to force the boy’s mouth open, hissing in anger.

“Fucking hell.” The rough tones are deeper and crueler than Grant’s. The boys only have a split second chance to react before Grant is being tugged away, Joey taking a step back. “I leave you boys alone for three fucking hours.”

Slade stares down in disgust at the boy at his feet. “And you. I bet you begged for it, didn’t you, slut?”

The boy shakes his head, eyes wide, speaking more words than Joey has heard from him. “No - no - I told him no - ”

Grant is fumbling with his still-hard dick and his fly. “He tried to bite me!”

Slade snaps his fingers. “Shut up, both of you.” He points at Grant and Joey. “If you’re so desperate to be down here, you’ll help.” Then he turns on the boy at his feet. “You tried to bite him.”

The expression on the other boy’s face is one of the purest expressions of fear that Joey has ever seen. “I’m sorry,” he babbles, whispered and low. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean - I don’t - I wouldn’t have - I’m sorry, please -”

“Guess you aren’t well trained enough, then.” Slade crouches, drawing another key from his belt. It slips into the lock of the boy’s collar. “Good. You’ll serve as a lesson.” The boy’s eyes are wide, and he’s shaking his head, scrabbling at the stone with worn-down fingernails.

“Master - please - I didn’t mean to.”

“Stand up, boy.” The child shudders to his feet and Joey can see how small he is - much smaller than Grant, but only a little bigger than himself. “Hands against the wall. Like that.”

Pops, Joey signs, realizing his own hands are shivering. Pops, what are you doing?

“Punishing my property,” Slade says, barely even glancing in Joey’s direction. Another whimper from the pale boy. Grant’s eyes are narrowed. “Pay attention, boys.”

The slick sound of Slade’s pocketknife opening makes Joey nervous, but it only seems to make Grant more excited. His eyes are bright and cruel. They remind Joey of Slade, vicious in the light.

The tip of the knife presses against the nameless boy’s back. Joey can see the muscles taut beneath it, the underfed body tensing with fear. “What’s it going to be this time, I wonder?” Slade muses. There are scars crisscrossing the boy’s back, some too faded to read, some disappearing into the mess of roping tissue. Joey watches in horror as the knife sinks in, deeper than it has any right to go, crimson blooming around the cut.

The only sound as Slade cuts is the whimpering of the boy who’s being cut into, hands pressed flat against the wall as he shakes.

“Stay still,” Slade says, “or the next place this knife is going is your cunt.”

Joey marvels at the strength of will it must take to stay still, but the boy barely moves as Slade cuts, and cuts, and cuts, until any rhyme or reason to them is lost in the deluge of blood. Vomit burns in the back of Joey’s throat. A hand grabs his wrist, and Joey sees that it’s Grant, eyes lit up with that horrible fervor. Grant pulls Joey closer by his hand, as if he wants him to see.

It’s hard to tell when Slade is finally finished, wiping the flat of the blade off against the boy’s shoulder. “If he acts up,” Slade says, “you give him a reminder of his place.” He turns to Grant, and offers him the knife. “Punish him.”

The boy makes a choked, shivering sound. Grant steps forward, cruelty in his eyes. He shakes his head “Please - ”

“He’ll beg like a girl,” Slade sneers, “but don’t let it get the better of you, son. He’s not sorry until he’s screaming.”

The boy’s body shudders. Blood glints in the light, dripping down his bare thighs and puddling at his feet. Grant yanks the boy’s hair, pushing his head back, placing the knife against the filthy skin of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” the boy whispers. Joey just stares. He’s left staring a lot, feeling something cold in his gut. This is the kind of thing that happens in the dark, he knows. The thought of doing something - that thought doesn’t cross his mind, though. Not with Slade there.

The knife dips below the skin. The cry is sharper this time, Grant holding the boy’s face in place as he digs the knife in. This time, Joey can see the letter the blood is forming - a G, in childish hand, another stroke with every agonized grasp.

“There we are,” Slade murmurs. “Show him what happens when he disobeys.”

Joey’s hands are shaking. He thinks he makes a choking noise, but it’s too small, too twisted by cut vocal cords. Fingers curl and uncurl, trying to find warmth in his jean pockets.

The knife leaves the skin. Grant doesn’t let go of the boy’s hair, darkness stringing between his fingers. He pants in the light, blood on his blade.

Slade slowly works Grant’s hands out of the boy’s hair. “You wanted him to suck you off, isn’t that right, boy?” Grant nods wordlessly, his hand in Slade’s before it’s dropped. “So make him.” Slade kicks, suddenly; the boy falls to his hands and knees with a cry as his legs go out. He stares up at them all with wide blue eyes - darker than Joey’s own, but with something broken inside them.

“Get him on his knees,” Slade murmurs. Then he crouches, still looming over the boy, who looks smaller than ever, “and make him listen. Hit him.”

Grant’s fist pulls back. Joey winces at the vicious crack that echoes through the basement. The boy’s head jolts, snapping to the side.

“Good.” Slade’s voice is cool, calm, like when he taught Grant to nail wood into boards. “Now hit him again.”

Grant’s eyes gleam. Joey looks away as his boot snaps forward. When he looks back through squinted eyes, the boy’s head hangs low, blood gushing from his nose.

He yanks the boy’s head back by his hair. “Tell him what he’s going to do. Be clear. He’s a stupid little thing.”

“You’re going to open your mouth and suck my dick,” Grant says plaintively.

Pale, thin lips open, cutting the trail of blood from the boy’s nose in half. Slade smiles. All Joey can see is the pink of his tongue. “See? Just a little slut. Needs to be reminded what he’s good for, that’s all.”

Grant is already fumbling with his fly. He’s still hard, pulling the boy’s lips flush with his crotch as soon as he can and groaning at the sensation. Saliva dribbles down the boy’s chin, eyes wide. Joey’s mesmerized by Grant moving in and out, gasping as he fucks his cock into the boy’s mouth. There’s a beat of jealousy there, too, and Joey’s sure that Grant doesn’t like the boy as much as he likes him.

Slade slaps the boy’s thigh, hard. “Put some effort into it, whore.” Then he turns his eyes to Joey, and Joey doesn’t like that at all. But when Slade’s finger beckons, Joey can’t refuse, moving forwards to stand behind the boy with Slade. Slade is pulling the boy back by his hips, pushing up his ass until he’s forced to be on all fours if he wants to balance. Grant has his hands in the boy’s hair, pulling him faster onto his dick, the room filled with his panting and the slick sound of saliva.

Joey stands, eyes wide. Slade’s fingers dip into the folds of the boy’s cunt, coming out slick. He laughs.

Is he - does he like it? Joey asks, hands still shivering a little.

“Of course he does.” Joey can see the wetness stringing between Slade’s forefinger and middle finger. “Look at this cunt. It’s begging for something in it. Come here, Jo.”

Joey moves closer, staring at the drying blood on the boy’s back, the obscene way the back of his head moves as he chokes on Grant. Before he can do anything else, Slade’s fingers hook in the waistband of his briefs, pushing them down to his thighs.

“You ready?” Joey looks down at himself. He’s not hard, not nearly, but Slade’s rough fingers are tracing the shaft and his thumb is teasing the head, and Joey can’t help but let out a low hiss of air. He hardens in seconds under Slade’s fingers, Slade pulling him to his knees.

“There we are,” Slade murmurs. He’s making Joey ache, so much that he pushes forwards, shuffling on his knees as Slade guides his cock into the other boy’s cunt. It’s hot, and wet, and it grips him tight. Joey lets out a hissing sort of moan, just kneeling there, letting his cock sink in.

“Tight, isn’t it?” Slade says. He’s in good humor, now, eyes glinting in the light in the same way that Grant’s do. Joey can see the boy’s head bobbing, Slade murmuring next to him. “Go on. Fuck him.” He presses on the small of Joey’s back to get him to move, and he does, with a small snap of his hips.

Joey’s never been inside anyone before. This is too easy, and it feels to good. His hands grab at the boy’s hips, smaller fingers contrasting against large bruises, pushing himself further inside. There are small sounds slipping from his lips as he starts to move, slowly, savoring every second of it.

The boy shudders around him. The slick sounds from how Grant fucks him makes Joey even harder. He stares up at his brother. Grant is grinning at him, fingers tight in the boy’s dark hair. “This is so fucking good, Joey.” Joey looks as Slade. He’s got a half-smile on his face, too, leaning back on the balls of his feet and watching them. They’re enjoying themselves. Joey should be enjoying himself, too, shouldn’t he?

He is. He has to be. His cock is buried in something tight and slick, the sound of skin on skin as he moves himself in and out. Joey can feel himself getting close, already. It’s the kind of thing Grant might tease him for. But he doesn’t think the boy clenching around him will care.

Grant is first, though. He’s gasping sharper, and then he’s staring at Joey, pulling the boy’s head further onto him. “I’m going to, I’m gonna - ”

Slade is there, one hand on Grant’s shoulder, one hand around the base of his cock. “No. You’re not.” Grant’s face is sweaty, indignant, eyes wide as he glares.

“No - Slade - fucking - ”

“You’re going to beg me to let you come,” Slade murmurs. “You’re going to ask politely to use my property.” Fingers slowly trace Grant’s length, one hand fondling his balls. “You’re going to apologize for touching my things.”

Grant’s face is red, hands trying to push Slade away. “Fuck you - jackass - fuck -” His hips are rutting into Slade’s hand, Slade murmuring right in his ear.

“Say you’re sorry, son.”

“Fuck - fine! I’m fucking sorry! Now just let me - let me fucking - ” Slade’s hands leave and Grant’s hips jerk one last time, come dribbling onto the face of the boy in front of him. Grant gasps, his groans filling the room. It pushes Joey over the edge, grabbing the boy’s hips one last time before finishing as far in him as he can reach, blood staining his fingers.

When Joey looks back up, Grant is coming towards him, dick half-tucked in his pants. Joey pulls himself out of the boy - come leaks out between puffy lips, dribbling down pale thighs. The boy shivers on his hands and knees, trying to move towards the ground, but a heavy hand grabs his collar.

“We’re not done with you, slut.” Slade is tugging him upwards and prying his lips open. Joey notices Slade’s erection pushing at his jeans. He stares at Grant and Joey. “Grant, spread his cheeks. Jo - ”

“Please,” the boy begs, “please, it hurts - ” Thick fingers wrap around his throat. Slade keeps talking as if the boy hadn’t said anything, but Joey can see the body beneath him twitching with the lack of oxygen.

“Don’t let him convince you,” Slade explains, to Joey’s pale expression. “He’ll be begging like a whore soon enough. The bitch doesn’t know what he wants.” He shakes the boy a little, and he shudders more. “Jo, take your first two fingers, get them in his ass. If you don’t pry him open, it’ll be hard to move.”

Joey doesn’t dare disobey. He slips his index finger into the puckered hole, Grant’s eyes on him, and then presses his middle finger in with considerably more difficulty. It’s tight.

“Scissor your fingers,” Slade says. “Open him up.” Joey’s fingers move, back and forth, prying him as wide as he can. It’s hard, at first, but it gets easier as he moves. “See if you can fit in a third finger.” There’s a choked whimper, but the boy - now out of Slade’s grip - doesn’t say anything. With some difficulty, Joey slips in a third finger. Muscles clench around him, as if trying to expel him from the body.

“Spread your fingers as wide as you can.” Joey does, trying to pull him wide. There’s blood there, and he wonders if it hurts. He could stop. He could tell Slade he doesn’t want to do this.

But he doesn’t.

“Now curve them.” Slade has a wicked smirk on his face. Joey does, though, scraping nails along the inside of the boy’s warm body. The boy jerks under him, a low groan coming from his lips. His hips move back to pressing Joey’s fingers into him.

On some level, he is enjoying it.

“You have to know how to touch him,” Slade says. “He turns right into a bitch in heat, though, doesn’t he?” His voice almost sounds fond. “Anytime he tries to act uppity, just show him his place. It’s easy enough.” He turns back to Grant and Joey. “See if you can fit yourself into him. Share with your brother. He’s got two holes.”

“Here, lemme help.” Grant’s voice is husky as he leans in, one hand on his own crotch, one grabbing at Joey’s. This is, at least, something Joey is used to. He hisses at the friction, his own hand snaking down Grant’s pants. Grant grins at him as fingers work Joey to fullness, one hand shoving down his pants to get a better angle. “Now you can fuck him properly.” His hands move from Joey to the boy, spreading his cheeks, showing a pried open hole.

It takes a few tries for Joey to properly push himself in but once he does he finds himself hissing with the pleasure of it. Muscles flutter around his intrusion, rubbing at his dick, tight and hot. It’s even better than the boy’s cunt. If Joey had his hands free he would sign a word like fuck, but all he can do is gasp in choked tones.

Grant’s dick is standing at attention, too, bumping Joey’s thigh as he tries to get in next to him. “Move over,” he mutters, a hand tugging at the boy’s scarred thigh to get at his cunt. Joey’s come leaks out of the folds of it. Grant sticks fingers in to roughly scoop it out before lining himself up. Joey scoots over so he can sink in properly, even if neither of them can get to the hilt.

“Look at you, spreading your legs so nicely.” Slade’s murmuring causes Joey to look up from his own dick and the boy’s bloody back. Slade’s talking to the boy as if he’s a pet, a hand pulling his hair back. “I bet you just love being filled up, don’t you?”

It’s almost, almost tender. Joey feels a spike of strange jealousy. His father doesn’t talk to his sons like that often.

The only answer is a mumbled groan as the boy arches his blood-drenched back to press back against Joey and Grant. Grant’s hands dig into his back, blood smearing them, pulling him tighter around Joey.

Slade’s hand goes to his crotch. Seconds later, his cock hangs free. Joey’s seen his dad’s dick before, but it always strikes him as too big to truly fit anywhere. Especially when it’s swollen and hard, bumping against the face of the boy beneath them.

“Now open your mouth so I can fuck your throat.” Seconds later the boy jerks back onto Joey’s cock, drool dribbling to the floor. Grant’s hips snap in response, pulling him closer, gasping in Joey’s ear. Joey has to push him further away to properly move inside the boy’s ass. Even when he’s only halfway in, it squeeze him tight, warm and inviting.

The debauched sound of Slade fucking the boy’s mouth onto his cock fills the room, Grant’s groans mixing in it, Joey just trying to keep his mind inside his body as he presses in and out. It’s dizzying, but exhilarating, the three of them sheathed in the boy on the floor, using his body. He doesn’t make a sound, choked on Slade, not even at Grant’s rough thrusts and the tentative snap of Joey’s hips. His thighs shiver as he holds himself up, blood still dripping to the floor.

“C’mon, Jo,” Grant rasps. “Isn’t it fun?” He slams into the boy, spreading his cunt wide, rocking him onto Slade’s cock. Slade’s too focused on himself to pay attention, a hand fisted into the boy’s hair as he yanks him back and forth on his cock. Joey moans soundlessly as he moves in and out again. It takes some effort with how tight the passage is but in the end it’s worth it. Before he knows it, Joey is jerking forward - pushing Grant aside to come a second time. He feels it bloom around his cock, warm.

“Can’t last long, can you?” Grant teases. This time Joey has the presence of mind to take a bloody hand and flip him off. Grant sticks his tongue out as he elbows Joey aside to get a better angle into the boy’s cunt. Joey can see his own come dribbling out of the boy’s puckered hole. Grant smears it in annoyance as he starts up a cruel pace. It’s not enough for him, though.

Grant slaps the boy’s thigh, leaving a red print. “Try harder!” His voice is choked, and Joey knows that he’s close too, digging nails into the boy’s hips and fucking him as hard as he can. It’s not as hard as Slade, though. Joey can see how the boy’s head is jerked back with every movement of Slade’s, how he’s rocked between Grant and his father. The blood on his back glints in the light.

“Go on, slut. Show him how tight you are.” Slade pushes the boy’s body back, onto Grant. “Or I’ll let him carve you up a second time.”

Grant is groaning seconds later, pressing himself as far as he can go into the slick folds. His eyes are half-lidded, mouth hanging open, in an expression that Joey knows well. Grant’s cock pulls out of the boy a few seconds later, come leaking onto the floor as the boy collapses with nobody holding onto his hips. The only reason he’s still up is Slade has a grip on his hair, snapping his hips methodically.

Slade’s teeth gleam as he smiles in the light, staring at Joey and Grant. His thrusts stop, and slow, and then the boy is panting with only his hands holding him up. Saliva and come drips down his chin, and he wipes it away with the back of his hand. Slade’s cock brushes his forehead before he looks up and licks it clean without being prompted.

“Put your dick away,” Joey tells Grant. Grant stuffs it back in his boxers, fumbling with the zipper on his jeans, mumbling something obscene. Slade finishes with the boy, pushing him to the side. The boy tumbles against the side of the basement, curling in on himself to let Slade step over him. As he does, he leans over, grabbing at the boy’s collar.

“Get over there and apologize.” The boy’s thrown into a pile of bones in front of Grant and Joey, shivering as he looks up at him. The pale face is smeared with come, tracked with tears from choking. The eyes make Joey shudder.

“I - I’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes flicking anywhere except their faces.

“Tell them you’re a little whore who forgot his place.”

The face turns down, pale arms wrapping around the rest of the body, holding tight. Stringy hair hangs down around his head. “I - I’m a … whore. I - forgot my place.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Slade turns to Grant and Joey. “Now you two are going back upstairs, and you’re not going to be coming down here again. Understood?”

Grant just stares. Joey nods.

“Unless you want to start taking his place, that is. Understood?”

Grant nods, too. Joey pulls on his arm, pulling him past Slade. He lets go only to ask, Are you coming?

Slade shakes his head. “No.” He smiles. “He always was hard to teach.”

Joey doesn’t look back. He doesn’t want to see that horror on the boy’s face - but he can hear it in his voice, pale and broken.

“Master - master, please - I said I was sorry, it hurts, please don’t - ”

The basement door slams.

All that’s left is Grant and Joey, standing in the kitchen. Slowly, Joey watches Grant draw the key from his pocket. It’s placed on the counter with a soft click. Joey and Grant stare at each other, and Joey suddenly feels very, very small.

[hedgewolf-hunters]

Silence is golden

Drake: Hey you guys want to see one of my adventures from last week? Than take a seat and open those ears up cause have i got a story for you.

In the city of Etrinitat on the corner of main and etheral st a two story old-fashioned wooden establishment sits. The sign a top the doors reads, Alpha & Omega, Bar and grill. Inside was a bustling collection of mobians big and small from avians to deep diggers to the deepest underwater divers. A female dark red wolf is behind a bar counter serving older customers liquor drinks and scaring off under age kids. She has two blue stripes under her sea blue eyes and her hair like fur is done in a single massive braid. Shes wearing a sleevless leather jacket with a tank top underneath, dark blue skin tight jeans and spiked boots on her feet.

"Mom im cutting out early today." A maroon colored male wolf with hedgehog quills barely extending from his head says to the female. He has a black stripe going down the only two quills he has and the same matching blue stripes under his glowing amber eyes. The male is in a sleevless parka, black zipper boots, and gloves with a slightly raised bump on the knuckles.

"Yeah and do what my son?" She asks. Turning to him after serving another customer. The boy places down a crystal double tapping it so a hologram of a bounty appears. Its of a raccon with a list of crimes.

"Drake this guy is an sociopath with a hard on for killing hunters and civilians. Not to mention he probably has a following with him." The woman says.

"Mom i know this. Its the reason i took the job in the first place. You know physical attacks either don't connect or do any real damage, not to mention I'm probably one of only two other people in this building who can actually get close to him." Drake says.

"Sky let the boy go. He needs to learn to take care of himself anyway, and he cant do that if you hold him back from jobs or doing them alone." A purple hedgehog says from the door leading to the kitchen. Her eyes are normal amber compared to the boys, her quills done in a ponytail are greying slightly at the tips as they stop just past halfway down the door. She has a single white stripe on top of her head down her middle quill and a black stripe down each of her outer quills. Shes dressed in sports top and short, and hightop shoes with a chef outfit over it all.

"Thank you Aunt Aura. See mom even Auntie thinks i should give at least one solo job a shot. Look if it doesnt turn out to well than i will not ask again to take a solo. But if it does than can you please just let me do my own every now and then?" Drake asks his over protective mother. Sky bites her lip wanting to say no but knowing they both have a point.

"Fine. But if you get into any trouble trigger the flare and your brother will be there to back you up." Sky says locking a braclet around her second sons wrist.

"Will do ma. Alright ill be back in a couple days. He's in the grassland plains. How he hasnt been caught already, besides his psychotic nature, ill be finding out soon enough." Drake says picking up the crystal and running out the door. He kicks into high gear once outside the bar and runs across the city in a minute flat to the west wall gate.

By nightfall Drake has finally escaped the great forest that surrounds his home and the city. He groans stretching.

"Damn i really wish i had dads super speed, but no, it went to Scarlet and Inferna only. Me and Bane gotta push just to keep up and i have to push harder since Bane can clear the forest in minutes thanks to his wings." Drake grumbles to himself as he stretches his sore legs. A orb flies out from his jacket.

"Oh stop complaining. Your compensation for these little differences is me and our shared abilities. After all none of them can use the Astral plane, like i told you to use, to travel nearly instantly." A feminine voice says from the orb.

"I got excited and forgot ok. No need to chew my head off Aster. Besides wheres the adventure in instant travel? If we had we wouldn't had to chase away those pups from the cargo transport and kept supplies running to the city." Drake says to the orb. The feminine voice huffs and returns to his jacket.

"Fine but when this job is done we go home my way. Last thing we need is for you to lose your prey fending off adolescent feral wolves again." Aster says before going silent again. Drake chuckles as he starts running again headed to the city of the plains Primous.

Day break arrives and Drake yawns from his room inside a old fashioned inn. He arrived around midnight in the city and could only find this building to rest in. He stretches getting a few pops in his back from sleeping on the lumpy mattress. He grunts as he gets up off the bed and walks to the sink in the room. He spashes ice cold water in his face and reaches into one of his inner jacket pockets. Seemingly deeper than it looks he pulls out some morning hygiene tools.

Half an hour later Drake heads down to the main floor and walks out waving bye to the shop keep. The town is now bustling with buisness, cars driving by pedestrians walking around and kids heading to schools nearby. Drake smiles as he jumps up onto the roof and takes in a birds eye view of the city. Whistling as the crowded busy streets clog up in the mornng traffic. A few sky scrapers litter the city and a few cathedrals, his targets usual dumping sites. Smirking Drake jumps from the building and lands on the sidewalk, he heads into the deeper parts of town blending in as much as he can.

Three hours later Drake is stopped at the last cathedral in the city.

"The place where it all started. A city inspector came to check on the building and found several dead bodies placed in various forms of worship. The cops caught video footage of the raccoon in question shortly after the bodies were found in other cathedrals. Mobians have been scared of this place ever since and the neighborhood has been evacuated do to that fear." Aster says while Drake stands by the doors.

"And some mobians have come to worship him as a new messiah with the messages he's left with the last seven victims. I wonder why is it than that they cant trace his signal during the 'Prayer' as its been labeled. Someones gotta have a clue to where this loon is." Drake mumbles as he stares at the gothic doorway of the church. He scratches his head as he turns around and bumps into a young female raccoon.

"My bad little lady didnt see you there." Drake says taking a knee to help her up. She shakes her head with a small smile as she takes his hand of help. Drake smells the blood and goes wide eyed for a second before passing out from a needle in his neck. Aster stays silent as Drake passes out.

"See momma I caught the bad man after daddy." The raccoon girl says pulling the needle out and waving at a bush. The female fox that ran the inn Drake slept at walks out.

"Good girl. Now lets get him inside before anyone sees." The fox says grabbing Drake by his feet.

An hour later Drake groans awake strapped to a table with a light glaring down at him. He thinks back to what happened before he fell out. The flash back coming back he sighs and grinds his teeth a little.

"Seems someone is noticing his mistake." Aster says. Drake glares at his jacket quickly and than lays back.

"Cant blame you for that one, i deserved it. Guess the bait was too good for him to pass up." Drake mutters under his breath to Aster. She snorts in reply and Drake feels something hovering over his hands.

"Not yet, let the bait settle a little more. But if you feel like im in trouble...feel free to get dirty." Drake says the sensation leaves his wrist as Aster sighs. Drake whistles a tune from his childhood as he waits for the next half an hour till his target appears. A four foot tall raccon with well built frame wearing a priests robe.

"Hello my little sheep. Glad to see your comfy in your protective bindings." The raccoon says.

"Well you left me on this slab with nothing to get comfy with so i made do." Drake replies.

"Heh you are quite the talkative type arent you little sheep." He says.

"No shit Sherlock, I've been stuck up here for half an hour with nothing to do but whistle an old lullaby." Drake says

"Hmm, do you know why you are here little-"

"Call me little sheep one more time and I'm gonna tear a hole through your windpipe." Drake interrupts the raccoon getting tired of that comendering tone that follows the words.

"Fine than hunter, i assume you are here for my head but it seems you're about to lose yours." The raccoon says dropping the fatherly tone to his true thug accent. He walks towards a table with a bloody cloth over it and powerlines leading out from underneath it.

"You assume I'll lose my head here, but let me ask you, do you know why i didn't tear your daughter in half before the needle touched my skin? Or why I didn't drag your wife out of the bushes when they hid behind me?" Drake asks making the raccoon stop in his tracks. Aster uses the moment to slice the straps lightly, enough that they can be broken with even the slightest move. The raccoon turns around glaring at Drake.

"Dude you think I didnt notice the table setting in the back of the inn? Or that i was being followed from cathedral to cathedral? Not to mention your ladies eyes when she heard me say i was a hunter." Drake says. The raccoon looks confused.

"Than why did you allow yourself to be captured?" He asks walking over to Drake puzzled now.

"Honestly i didnt know you would send your own flesh and blood to capture me, that threw me for a loop for a second. But its just how I hunt by myself. I dont go looking for prey i let them come to me." Drake finishes with a grin freeing his hand and grabbing the raccoon by his robe and tossing him over the table with the power tools. Drake quickly curls into a spin dash to free himself and stands up on the floor. Two gunshots in his direction make him turn towards the firing squad of the wife and child. Rubbing the bridge of his nose Drake summons Aster in physical form. A scythe blade with a gap where its connected to the curved staff, a smaller blade growing out the opposite side. Gold trimm visibly and bulbously formimg a drip down pattern down the staff till it reaches the bottom where the gold turns into a spear point.

Drake spins the scythe around in his hand as he walks towards the two females. Bullets bounce off the scythe like rubber as Drake gets closer to them. Once the ammunition is out Drake stops spinning the scythe and grabs a point on the foxes collar bone that sends her to sleep. He back steps the small Raccoon and slams the wood down across her back before striking her several times with his fingers in specific locations to immobolize her and put her to sleep as well.

"Now that the peanut gallery is take care of, where were we?" Drake asks gibing Aster one final spin before resting her against his shoulder. The male Raccoon has stumbled back on the floor.

"You are some sort of Demon, you must be!" He exclaims. Drake snorts as he grips Aster with both hands.

"Hear that Aster, he thinks we're demons." Drake says. A shimmer from the balde makes the Raccoon back up more.

"Ah if only he could hear me, id havea few choice words for him to show him how demon like we are." Aster says to Drake. Drake grins watching as the man scrambles for a knife. He stops a few feet away from the raccoon whos now on his feet with a serrated blood covered machete. Drake leans one foot forward and one foot back, lowering Aster to hover above the floor he holds her with both hands at the ready to swing. The raccoon charges at Drake like a scared child wildy swinging the machete. Drake waits till hes within two feet of them and swings Aster in an upward arc going right through him, than coming back down in the opposite direction. He side steps as the raccoon passes him still swinging scared. Drake finishes by slicing aster through his neck. All three attacks leave no mark on the raccoon whos confused as he felt the blade go through him all three times.

"Im gonna give you two options now psycho. Come quietly and live out your days in a jail cell nice and comfy. Or." Drake says snapping his fingers. The cuts slowly form where the blade touched, not deep like they should be but enough that they are drawing faint amounts of blood.

"I let your cuts form fully to the point of no return." Drake says making a slicing motion with his thumb across his throat. The raccoon gasps in pain feeling the sensation of the two across his body getting deeper agonizingly slowly.

"Please, just stop the pain! Take me in but stop this torture." He begs. Drake raises a brow and steps over to the writhing raccoon.

"You think this is pain? You think i should show you mercy that you never showed to twenty others? No this isnt pain and suffering, this isnt torture yet little sheep." Drake says makimg the raccoon look up at him for a moment. In that moment drake showed him something few others see unless he wants them too.

"Remember you know nothing of suffering, pain, or torture. I'll take you in but you nore your family will remember the other. Of that i will make sure of." Drake says lifting Aster and slamming the spear point down onto his targets head.

Drake: No i didnt kill the guy. Aster can sever bonds and memories with her spear point. I simply took all threes memories of being together from the point of the killings. The wife thought he had left her and the child and thats the way it will stay while the shit rots his life away in prison now. And quick note from the mun that no more stories this week. He'll have more ready next week but this week he will be focusingnon his other project. If you want to Rp with us we can do that or answer questions. But no stories for the next six days.

[philipsgaiamemories]

Bloodstained Moonbeams

Fandom: Kamen Rider Build

Relationship: Kiryu Sento/ Banjou Ryuga

Summary: Mage!AU, A certain genius mage has been feeling someone watching him during his nightly walks, but yet, he cannot figure out where its coming from.

Written for: @ katoriharusa  (I WAS SO INSPIRED BY THIS THANK YOU <3)

Rating: Mature?! 

When did it get so dark already?

The young dark haired mage started to walk through the dark alley’s of the school grounds, breathing in the cool air of the night.  Looking around he saw the remnants of the school’s students walking about, laughing and carrying on like nothing else mattered in the world.  Probably the last few people coming home from parties, Kiryu Sento thought.

The mage had something better to do, spending his nights locked up in the science lab, filling his mind with formulas and numbers in an attempt to reach  new level in magic that hasn’t been reached before.  It was all so fascinating, how could anyone want to party when you could be breaking the laws of physics, time and space?!

Shivering, the lean boy clutched his jacket closer to his body, a gust of wind cutting straight to his bones.  Looking up he watched as the branches of the trees above him swayed in the night sky, allowing beams of fleeting moonlight to dance across the pathways.  The night sky was indeed beautiful tonight…maybe he should take up some stargazing, learn some cosmic magic?  It was a lost art, wild, and rare, the perfect challenge!

Suddenly, Sento stopped in his tracks, goosebumps crawling up his skin underneath his clothes, a strange feeling washing over him.  As if…as if… someone was watching him.  

His dark almond shaped eyes swept the area around him, feeling like his senses were going into overdrive from the sense.  But…there was nothing there.  All he could see are leaves falling from trees, and random people walking, but no one paid any mind to the lone magical genius.  It was just the genius mage, and the dancing shadows casted by the moonlight.

Lean fingers clutched at the fabric even tighter, the feeling of uneasiness running through his veins.  The hairs on the back of the boys head was standing on edge, as if he could almost feel the closeness of another presence upon him.  Quickly the boys feet padded the pathway as he made a beeline back to his dorm looming ahead of him.  Although he didn’t see anything, that doesn’t mean something wasn’t there looking in the shadows.  

Sento’s breath was running short, each pant coming out in soft clouds, while he quickly leapt up the stone steps to the dorms entrance.  His heart was in this throat as he grabbed the brass door handle, thrusting his key into it unlocking it in one smooth move before throwing the door open. He didn’t even look back before throwing himself through the heavy wooden door, slamming it behind him.

Biting his lower lip anxiously, the mage quickly moved towards his room wanting of the safety of his own space.  Through the hallways the boy went deeper into the dorm, moving towards the far end of the building, the feeling of uneasiness finally lifting before locking himself in. But the moment the boy got into his dorm, Sento moved towards his large windows which was spilling moonlight into the room, to shut himself from the outside world.  But the moment he got to the cold windows to close the curtains, the boy felt the sensation once again.  A sense of being watched, and eyes on just out of his gaze. With one loud swoosh, the dark-haired mage closed the curtains, and moved away, taking in a deep breath.

“Don’t act so irrationally…” Sento sighed to himself, “There is nothing there.”

But for the next few nights, the boy kept feeling the same thing, mysterious eyes on him as he walked through the pathways.  The feeling of being watched, from the moment the mage left his labs late at night, to the moment that he had entered the dorm rooms, and closed his curtains. It was unnerving, those eyes never making a move to get closer to Sento, just staying hidden in the cover of darkness and shadows.  It was a strange mixture of infuriating, exciting, and terrifying at the same time.

Who was this person lurking in the dark? What did he want?  And why was it just following him? Sento could have said something to someone, should have spoken to the headmaster to tell them, gotten himself some sort of protection or escort while he moved around in the night.  But what was he going to say? That he had a bad feeling? That some boogeyman was after him?!

No… the genius  mage had to figure out what was going on and what he was sensing before he decided what he wanted to do.  And as long as, whoever, whatever it was, did not make a move towards him, Sento felt safe enough to walk alone.  It seemed like it would be satisfied with just staying in the shadows, and watching the mage.  With Sento’s depth of knowledge defensive magic and other types, he felt secure enough to wonder off his normal path after a few nights and wonder past the tree lines next to him.  

The night sky was covered in shades of black and gray, dark clouds covering most of the stars and the full moon out that night leaving the boy very little line of sight.  With a soft whisper and flick of his thin wrist, Sento’s fingertips glowed softly, fathering the light quickly into his palm until it formed into a beautiful sphere.  The area around the boy was finally lit up, a warm white glow casting long shadows all around him.

“Ah…” The boys almond eyes squinted into the darkness, his feet quietly crunching the dead leaves underneath him.  There it was…The sensation of being watched, eyes on him, burning holes in the back of his head.  But once again, nothing was seen…

Further and further the boy went in, his free hand gently clutching at the thick fabric of his mage robes, trying to keep himself warm from the night air. Sento’s breath came out in soft cloud, slowly wondering in the darkness.      

“Hello?” His voice broke the nighttime silence, getting lost amongst the trees.  But all he got back was the sounds underneath his feet of crunching forest, the presence still keeping quiet.  “Come on out…I know you’re there!”

He had hoped that by moving into the wooded area, and separating himself from the rest of the random prying eyes, the mage could’ve lured the presence out.

“Look…Im alone…Do you want to tell me something?...”

Nothing…

“You must be doing this for a reason? Do you need me for some reason?” His voice was more insistent, hoping that he tried to reason with it, the person who had been quietly stalking him would step finally out of the shadows.  

But once again, Sento got nothing but silence in return.

But after moving far enough into the forest, Sento pursed his lips in annoyance, letting out a huff of air.  

“Fine. If you want to keep being a voyeur and stare at me all night, keep doing it! Kiryu Sento is quite great, so its no wonder I have an admirer! So if you are too scared to be in my presence, fine, stay in the dark!”

The last part was overly smug, and antagonistic, but Sento didn’t care.  He was growing frustrated exploring this dark scenery, the night air slowly starting to sink into his bones, chilling the lean mage to the bone. Not only that but he didn’t want to waste any more of his magical energy on this light spell on a wild goose chase. His energy should be spent in the lab, bending the rules of reality, like the genius he was.  

Sento’s free hand gripped his soft robe, pulling it closer around his thin shoulders before turning around, back towards the path the wondered in from. The whole way back though, those eyes bore into the back of his skull, following him as he stepped back out into the main path and the open area.

Frustrated, tired, and cold, the lean boy decided he was done for the night trying to get to the bottom of the mystery.  One more night of being eerily watched wouldn’t kill him…hopefully.   Shutting the heavy wooden door of the dorm, Sento slowly made his way through the dim hallways unlocking the door to his dorm while his mind was filled with formulas, and ideas on how to craft new spells.

Sighing heavily, the mage stepped into his room,  his thin fingers flicking on the light switch, flooding the space in light.  Sento suddenly stopped in his footsteps, his almond eyes going wide as he noticed immediately from across the room.  The moon must have came out from behind the dark clouds, because behind the heavy curtains of the large balcony windows, stood a large human sized shadow.  As quickly as the shadow appeared, it disappeared, the moon once again taking away the natural light, making the mage think he was seeing things.

Dropping his bag, Sento slowly moved towards the window, holding his breath as if he would scare off whatever it was he just saw. “…Hello?...”

His fingers were already moving besides him, the mages voice barely a whisper as he began weaving a spell of power underneath his breath.  The closer the boy got, the harder his heart beat in his lean chest. He didn’t hear any reply from the thing in his balcony, filling Sento with a mix of excitement and dread.  As he reached out to the fabric of the curtain, the shadows once again changed, the silhouette still there, unmoving, and unafraid.

“Hello?...Who are you?! And how…” Grabbing the fabric, Sento threw the curtains apart, and stared, wide eyed at the form standing in front of him, “-How did you get here…”

The moon escaped the clouds, the balcony being showered in moonlight allowing the genius mage to clearly see the form that stood outside his window.  Standing perfectly balanced on the balcony rail was a tall male, dressed in a midnight black suit, accented by small touches of milky white pearls, as if they were little glowing balls of magic.  The figure tilted his head, the wind picking up just slightly, combing through the mysterious boys messy dark chocolate hair.  

“Ah…” Letting out the breath he was holding, Sento shivered feeling those same eyes he felt before, fall upon him once again.  “I-Its you…”

His words were a whisper, but yet, he could see the other respond, the mysterious stranger’s lips curl up slightly in response, as if he heard it perfectly.  The mage, felt his hair stand on edge, the sparks of energy in his fingertips growing stronger in response of this possible threat standing in front of him.  Although he was just outside taunting the unknown stalker, trying to force him out of the darkness, he had no idea that the person would just show up outside his door just like this. Much less, precariously standing on the balcony metal railing as if it was nothing.   It was just…unnerving…

But the mysterious creature didn’t seem to fear the defensive action, as he lifted his hand, and lazily pointed to the door handle; a silent request to open the door.

Gnawing at his lower lip, Sento stood still, his mind racing with thoughts, now that he was faced with his stalker what was he going to do? Should he open the door, and hear what this stranger had to stay?

The stranger must have been feeling impatient with the lack of movement, as he parted his lips, his mouth moving to form words.  But through the window, Sento couldn’t hear him, couldn’t but actions spoke strong enough that finally understood.  Pointing once again to the door handle, his mouth moved again, ‘Open the door.’

Finally, Sento had to make a decision, just like when he attempted new experimental magic, he had to take action; if he was to continue and find something new, or pull back and not learn anything at all.  Sucking in breath slowly, the mage reached out taking hold of the cold handle, before slowly unlocking it, twisting it in his free hand.  Just as he cracked it opened, the boys charged hand slowly slipped through the open space, his voice coming out as a firmly and fearless as possible.

“Don’t move…! This spell is my own and its pretty nasty if I do say so myself!”

The self proclaimed genius watched carefully, as the stranger lifted both his hands, signaling that he was not going to attack.  Taking a deep breath, Sento carefully opened the door even further, allowing his form to stand in the door way, but not taking one step closer to the other. Shivering, the boy felt the cold air on him again, a breeze coming through again, cutting through his clothes and tussling the stranger’s messy hair.

“Heh…You call me out here like this, and yet you hide behind the door like a bunny.” The stranger’s smooth voice mocked him from his place, that smile still clear on his face.  His dark eyes followed the mage’s arm, falling upon Sento’s glowing fingertips, spell at the ready. “…I am sure you didn’t call for a fight, so put that down, I’m not going to attack you.”

Hesitation filled the mage, as he stood there staring down at the boy, unsure if he should undo the spell or not.  After a moment of quick calculations, Sento, sighed to himself letting the spell dissipate in the night air, if the stranger wanted to attack him, the mage was confident that he could quickly react and defend himself.  Narrowing his almond eyes at the other, the boy decided to finally ask the questions that had been burning in his mind since the start of their little dance.  

“I called you,” The lean genius began, his tone slightly biting, “Because I want to know why you keep stalking me! … Who, are, you?”

“I thought you were smarter than that, always locking yourself up in the labs, carrying those large books.  I would think it was pretty obvious by now…”

That got Sento’s attention, the insulting words triggering sparks of anger and resentment within him. His mind quickly went over everything he knew, the stranger making it pretty clear that there were enough clues for him to figure out his identity.  He only felt the boys presence at night…hidden in the shadows…and somehow he had the balance to stand there on the balcony with perfect balance…And-

And…those eyes…were..were they glowing?!

Suddenly, Sento’s voice came out in a soft, breathless whisper, “…Vampire…”

The boy tensed up, taking a step back into the safety of his dorm room, his almond eyes growing wide with the realization.  How did he not realize it before?!  “W-What do you want?! ”

Vampires were not something that mages ran into every day, they were rare creatures that stalked the night, and only appeared when they were hungry.  Quickly taking advantage of their prey to feed, and then disappearing once again in the night, leaving the human usually anemic and tired. Very rarely did they truly hurt someone past that…but even more unheard of, was this stalking that this vampire was doing.  

“Vampire’s don’t normally stalk their dinner, so…what do you want?”

There it was again, that insufferable smug look, a scoffing sound escaping the stranger, “Heh, so those books aren’t just for show…”

“It’s cold for you right now isn’t it? Why don’t we take this conversation back there?” Eyes flickered past the mage, the stranger eyeballing the dorm room behind them.  

That definitely got Sento’s attention, goosebumps crawling over his skin from the words.  There wasn’t a lot known about these creatures, usually most of what was written was olden lore, with nothing scientific to back it up. But while studying the lean mage had learned one common thing…’don’t invite a vampire in’. They cannot come into their prey’s residence without an express invite, allowing it to be a safe haven for Sento at the moment.  

“Maybe it isn’t me who is being dense,” The mage evenly said, “I know what you are now, and that you have to be invited in here…“

Sento felt a rush of smug accomplishment, as if he had won at a game of chess, his lips curling up into a taunting smile at the other.  But it once again didn’t phase the mysterious vampire, the boys hands slowly finding their way into his dress pants pockets, the tall form leaning forward slightly.

His voice was barely a whisper, only meant for the mage to hear, “Yes…but don’t you want to know why I’ve been watching you?”

And there it was, this vampire somehow knowing Sento’s weakness spot, his curiosity.  The mage’s eyes narrowed, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip in obvious irritation.  They were at a stalemate, if the mage didn’t invite the boy in, it was clear that the vampire would never tell him anything.  And not knowing…would kill him. None of his questions would be answered, the mystery still there, never being answered.

That was completely unacceptable…

Sento hated being trapped like this, his normally sharp mind keeping himself one step ahead of the other, but this time, he found himself unable to resist.  His desire for knowledge, quickly outweighing his fear. Plus, he could spellweave faster than anyone else he knew, crafting things together that others have never thought of.  He should be safe…right?

“…Fine…come in.”

With catlike grace, the boy in the dark suit dropped from his perch, his feet silently landing on the balcony.  Sento took a defensive step back, realizing when the boy stood up straight, the vampire was not only taller, but had a more intimidating frame than the mage.  It sent a shiver of nervousness down the boys spine, but he had already agreed, no turning back now.  Stepping back, the lean magical genius backed up into the room, not wanting to turn his back on the other.  

Following Sento into the dorm room, the dark haired stranger’s eyes swept across the room taking in the space.  The bookshelves filled with books and tomes, his table covered in papers, and spell materials strewn all over the place. It was just a physical expression of how Sento’s mind worked, messy and filled with formulas and thoughts.  

Finally, the mage stood in front of the vampire, his arms crossing over his lean chest, “Now that you are here, start with your name.”

“Banjou Ryuga…” Without hesitation, the vampire introduced himself smoothly, his gaze turning back to the lean mage.  

Sento couldn’t hide his expression as he eyes widened in surprise, shocked how easily the vampire gave his name.  But, it could’ve been a cover, who knows, it wasn’t like Banjou had any reason to actually give him his real name.  

“Kiryu…Sento.” But even so, Sento gave him his real name, watching as the other boy slowly made his way around the boys dorm.  Banjou walked around, almost as if he was floating, staring at everything without acknowledging the other’s name.  

“So…you really pour yourself into your studies…don’t you? Its no wonder why you always travel alone at night.”

The words caused the mage to stiffen, gnawing at his lower lip in irritation.  Although he knew that he was being watched, it was really unnerving hearing his stalker saying it so nonchalantly; as if there was nothing wrong with it.  Fire was building underneath Sento’s skin, suddenly feeling furious that he was being so carefully followed, enough so that this vampire knew he was alone.   What he got himself into, inviting such a person in his home?!

Trying to keep his tone even, the genius mage finally asked, “So tell me, why were you following me?”

Silence followed, the vampire known as Banjou obviously finding everything else more interesting than the mage. The taller boys finger’s gently dragging across large old books strewn across the large wooden desk of dorm room. Sento could see the fine dust flying from the tome, dancing in the pale light like fairy dust in the air.  

Impatiently, the lean genius moved forward, instinctually reaching out to grab the vampire and turn him around. He just HATED to be ignored!

“A-AH!”

The world quickly spun in front of Sento’s eyes, as a loud whoosh, swept past his ears. The boy let out a strangled cry, feeling the cold wall suddenly pressing into his back knocking the air out of his lungs.  Sento’s almond eyes widened in fear, his body stiffening from the sharp sound of a hand smacking the wall next to the boys head.

The boy watched silently, the taller boy leaning in closer, those glowing eyes narrowing slowly. “At first, you just looked like a quick snack…small…lean... But…”

His voice lowered into a dark rumble, “You were interesting…”

Sento's breath hitched, feeling the warmth of the boys words caressing his skin. His heart was pounding against his lean chest like a hammer watching as if in show motion as the other boy inched closer.

“Interesting…?”

Leaning down Banjou murmured, words just meant for the mage, “I watched you every night, going in and out of the labs, alone. Perfect prey…but somehow you noticed me…”

“Not only did you notice me, you left me alone! But then tonight, heh, tonight you taunted me-”

Although the boy was terrified he couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips. “-But it got you to come out of hiding didn't it?”

Banjou growled softly at being interrupted, leaning in closer, “I'm done playing cat and mouse…” The boys’ breath tickled the genius mage's skin, raising goosebumps all over.

“I'm claiming my prize.”

Sento's breath was coming out in soft gasps, feeling as if it's hard to breathe when they were this close. But even so, his lips began to move, words of power spilling from them, his body immediately reacting from some sense of danger. Normally, the moment the words left his mouth, his body would tingle with magic, the rules of reality bending to his will.

Instead of miracles though, the boys magic didn't respond, the spell he was weaving failing to even spark. “Eh-?! Why-!?”

But the words were cut off as Banjou scoffed, “When all that studying and you don't even know what inviting me in does.”

‘Huh?’ Sento's brain began turning, trying to go through all of his knowledge, trying to figure out what the boy meant.  What was the lore again? What did he agree to when he invited the vampire in?

The wait must have been too long for the brunette with the messy hair  sighed, reaching out to grab Sento's chin. The lean boy gasped in surprise, stiffening from the sudden touch of the boys cool hands.

“The moment you let me in, is the moment that any sort of magic won't work on me! You WANTED me here!”

Pulling gently at the boys chin, Sento watched as the other boy's pink tongues slid across his lips. His eyes glowed with hunger, causing the boy to squirm slightly underneath the gaze.

“So instead of fighting this, offer me your neck~”

A sense of panic filled the small mage, unable to remember the last time that his magic didn't work. Sento's hands immediately lifted, pressing hard against the firm chest of the other, trying to gain space. But the other held firm, not allowing the boy any space, heat dancing between them.

“What makes you think that I'll just, let, you?!” Sento hissed, trying to sound tough. The boys wrist was suddenly grabbed, plucked from the air as the genius mage was trying to push the boy away.

“H-Hey!”

“I didn't expect you to, figured an egghead like you would need a bit of convincing…”

A thumb passed over the boys thin bottom lip, “Why don’t we think about it as one of those experiments you care so much about? All those hours working in the labs, why not try something out in real life?”

Now that got Sentos’ attention, the young mage stiffening underneath the gentle touch. “W-What?”

The words came out in a soft breath, his almond eyes narrowing defiantly back at the intimidating vampire.

“Why…why would I do such a dangerous thing?!”  Even though the boy spent countless hours researching, and experimenting, pushing himself to his body’s limit, this seemed…extreme.  Did the vampire really expect him to just agree to this; to something so dangerous?  

But the boy was intrigued, all he could think about was the fact there was such little known about the feeding behavior of vampires.  The books only explaining the obvious, that they fed off blood when hungry, normally leaving their prey in a dazed state, or rumor had it, if they were really hungry…left dry.  There was even unsubstantiated claims that people were found with marks, but not remember being attacked at all, as if the persons memory was completely wiped clean somehow. It was all 2nd hand knowledge…and right in front of him were answers.

“…Because you want to know how it feels…first hand experience that these books cant give you. I figure a Brainiac like you would jump at this chance.”

Sento’s mind was churning, hating the fact that he seemed so damn predictable.  That Banjou could so easily tempt him, dangling the idea of learning first hand in front of him.  Progress in any sort of study requires at some point something dangerous to learn something new.  If you were not willing to do this…then nothing will ever change.  

Lifting his hand, the mage slapped Banjou’s grip away, “If I agree, you have to promise no funny business… Only take what you need, and I want to remember everything ok, for research!”

A smug, knowing smile crossed the vampire’s lips, “Of course, if that is what you want! Now…do we have a deal?”

He shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t be giving into the temptation of learning something new, of being a pioneer…but…the idea was too much to resist for the mage.  Biting his lower lip, Sento hesitated for a moment before he steeled himself, nodding gently in agreement.

“Deal…”

No sooner than the words left the boys thin lips, the vampire leaned in again his hand sliding behind the boys head to take hold of his hair.  Fingertips combed through the genius’ dark tresses, coaxing his head back and to the side, baring his pale neck.

“Ah…” Sento shivered, his almond eyes fluttering closed with the gentle pulling of his scalp.  Licks of heat shot down his spine with the simple curious sensation, his body tensing with what was about to happen.  The boys heartbeat was hammering in his thin chest, the rush of anticipating causing the sound of rushing blood to fill his ears. Normally, the idea of his hair being pulled would make the mage wince in pain, but for some reason, the way that the boy was doing it, it just felt…so good.    

The lean body of Banjou leaned in closer, filling Sento’s nose with a wonderfully woodsy scent.  No… It was more like the smell of a crisp cool night, and bonfires, something about it was just so inviting.

“I can hear your heartbeat…” The vampire murmured, the boys breath tickling his ear, “So fast…like a rabbit…”

Before he could stop himself, Sento made a soft whimpering noise, goosebumps immediately raising on his skin.  His whole body was humming with anticipation, squirming slightly while he pressed himself closer to the wall.  

“And…you smell…so good up close…”

Shivering, Sento could feel Banjou’s body press gently against his, soft breathing against his skin. It was as if time slowed down for the mage, waiting anxiously for the sensation of his skin being torn apart by sharp razor teeth.  But instead, the boy felt cool lips against his neck, gentle brushes of his mouth across his skin, right above his quickening pulse.  

“Mmm…”  Sento’s normally busy mind, was quickly falling quiet, his body reacting on its own.  Breathless sighs rose from him, the mage’s delicate fingers reaching up to grab on the soft fabric of the boys suit.  Just what was he doing?  This was a dangerous creature and yet-

“Ah…!”

Fingers curled tighter, gripping the suit with a new sense of purpose feeling something hot and wet drag across his neck.  

“Heh…” Banjou’s tongue slid against the boys pulse again, a soft chuckle dancing in Sento’s ears, “…Such a honest body…”

Shame suddenly filled the lean mage, his cheeks flushing hotly with how true the words were. Sento couldn’t stop himself, the slow, lazy drag of the boys tongue on him caused him to mewl and squirm uncontrollably.  He could feel himself subconsciously tilt his head even further giving the vampire even more access to his sensitive pale neck.  The mage hated it, normally in control of the situation, his logical mind giving him an advantage over the more emotional mages around him.  

“…Do…Do you always tease your meals like this?...” Sento breathlessly shot back, his voice carrying an edge to it, “…Banjou-ah~”

Another teasing tongue, chased by a playful brush of the vampire’s lips, an amused tone to Banjou’s voice, “Don’t complain…I’m being gentle…”

“Now, come here…”

A strong arm quickly snaked around the boys thin waist, pressing the two boys flushed together, earning the vampire a shameless whimper from the mage.  With another firm tug of the boys hair, Sento heard a soft animalistic grow in his ears followed by a sharp pain shooting down his neck.  

“HNNG!” A pained cry escaped the lean mage, his almond eyes shooting open momentarily in surprise, “Aaah…!”

Gripping the boys dark suit, Sento clung onto the vampire for dear life, the breath knocked out of his lungs from the sensation.  Banjou’s teeth, was searing and hot, cutting through the boys delicate skin like a hot knife.

“Mmm…!”

The young mage could hear the rushing of blood in his ears, mixing with the sounds of the vampire greedy drinking from his neck.  A hand pressed hard into the small of Sento’s back, their hips pressing right up against each other until there was no space between them, forcing a needy mewling noise from the small mage.  It was all too much, the small genius’ eyes rolling back in his head, shivering with overstimulation.      

Sento could feel the eagerness of the boy leaning over him, the vampire’s jaws clamping down on the boys lean throat.  Although the initial bite was a bit painful, the longer Banjou fed from him, the less of it he felt, quickly being replaced by a dull sense of pleasure.  It was like the high he got casting a complicated spell…warm…fuzzy… good. A delicious rush that overcame him like a drug.

“Mmmph...!” A low pleasured moan escaped the vampire, the rumble being felt by the lean mage.

Banjou must have been hungry, the boy drinking from the self-proclaimed genius as if there was no tomorrow. But the longer those teeth were in him, the more lightheaded the lean mage became, the blood lost slowly getting to him.  Leaning even more against the wall behind him, Sento found himself using it as extra support while the other fed on him.  The brunette must have felt the change in the mage, the fingers in his hair and against his waist pressed even harder to keep him in place while Banjou fed.

“B..an…” Whimpering Sento’s fingers clawed gently at the boys firm chest, “…B..anjou…”    

Going into this, Sento had no idea what to expect, he thought it would be all pain, as if he was cut and bleeding from a knife cut…But this was….this was, mind blowing.  His body was moving on its own, squirming slightly underneath the boys teeth, his hips jerking up to meet Banjou’s. Lightening was shooting down the boys body, pooling heat at his waist, the mage’s body being stimulated in a way that has never been before.  

It was nothing like what the book said…It was possessive…hot…pleasurable.

The genius was becoming plaint in the boys arms, weak to the sensations he was being bombarded with.  Time stopped for the two boys, the only thing that Sento could fathom at that moment was the firm body of the vampire pressing into him.  All he knew is that he wanted this to keep going, to feel this high as long as he possibly could.

But, everything has to come to an end, and after what seemed like seconds of pleasure, Sento could feel Banjou’s jaw slowly give up its hold. Mewling softly, the mage shivered, feeling a low lazy tongue slide across his neck.  “Mmm…!”

“Ah…” Another pass, tongue dragging carefully over the pinpricks where the teeth sunk in, “…I didn’t think…you would taste so good…”

Sento’s head rolled back into place, struggling to open his heavy eyelids, “Mm?...”

Slowly, the mage’s almond eyes fluttered open, lifting his gaze, to meet the glowing eyes of Banjou.  The grip that the vampire had on Sento’s chin was slowly dropped, but the grip on his thin waist stayed, keeping them close.

Whispering softy, the vampire repeated himself, “…You taste…delicious…”

The breath got caught in Sento’s throat staring at him in disbelief, shivering in the arms of the vampire, the words dark and intimate, “I…do?”

“Whats say…I visit you when Im hungry…-“

“Ah!” A loud squeak escaped Sento, feeling the boys hand fall to his ass, giving it a firm teasing squeeze.

“And, Ill fill that egghead of yours with knowledge only vampires know…”

“Eh?” For a moment, Sento almost didn’t believe his hears, his mind hazy as he tried to comprehend what he just heard. He wanted to do an exchange? Blood for information?  Biting into his lower lip, the genius wished he could pause time momentarily to go over the offer.  But, like before the idea of gaining knowledge that no one else had was tempting…and….Blushing hotly, Sento’s gaze fell slightly catching slight of the small pearl fangs in the moonlight, a sudden desire to feel them once again filling him.

“I’ll do it…”  Sento breathed softly, “I…want to learn more…”

Chuckling to himself, the vampire gave a toothy grin, “Deal.”

[enchantechante]

there were nights just like this we used to talk.

and laugh.

and wish that we didnt have to get off of the phone. even our disagreements were this lighthearted.

our im sorrys had an almost sexual aftertaste.

i remember imagining you, as i had seen in photos, in a suit. bringing my bags over the threshhold of our future doorstep.

i thought of this every time i saw u carry anything.

i looked for reasons to talk to you. anything. everything... i wld be going through.

somewhere along the way, my depth became even more tended to than yours. i began replacing regular parts of your schedule. and initially i left this space for you. i wld ask, "its getting late... what time should you be up in the morning?" i wldnt want to disturb you too deeply into the night.

and without so many words

you curled back to yourself

you drew up, slow and solid like a castle door. forgetting to call. check messages. i cld be right beside you. calling for you. and we were still worlds a part.

i cld feel it. your fumbling to find traces of yourself in your own life. your disorientation. like eyes that strained to read too much for too long. you had adjusted so heavily to a world that wasnt your own, that you hardly saw yourself in, that i became another fantasy book.

i was your biggest unfinished adventure.

im okay with all the boys, young men, the old men that have tried to love me.

fans of me, as a work who were mistaken for soul mates.

men who saw me online and became obsessed with how very real i was.

you can use your own photos and be a catfish of yourself.

men who discovered pieces of themselves in me, a wonder and bravery theyve never felt. they try and forget so that they can stay happy. who met themselves all over again through the lush new world of my love.

they have women in their lives. who are equally confused w the different people thry choose to be each day. i watch these women sink, as i did. calling on u w no response. trying tirelessly to conjure your presence back into your body, as if you have died inside of yourself.

before i loved myself as i do now, i wanted every heaviness u had. i wanted the pain of your wounds over the itching of my own healing.

but something has happened in the past 4 months. the woman i was broke into so many pieces, it was impossible to keep all of them. what remains... what has been added... moves even better w my parts. protects even harder than its predecessor. these values, these projects, these adventures i take - they are stitched through my veins.

my dna is different.

my alone is longer and deeper and different. now that i am not trying to split my happiness down the middle w you im eating. im growing. (and we can be honest, you always had the bigger slice).

today, my sis sat me down and said, "there are a lot of people who have just been fans of ours. wanted to be seen and acknowledged and validated by us. love what we do, and love feeling our shine but no intentions of giving anything. because it looks like we already have so much. we're learning the difference."