#for a long time now the screen would sometimes go black for a second. and then return like o okay

[visdiefje]

Pour one out for my 18 or so (maybe more) year old second monitor. She went out with a bang (caused my apartment's first power surge during my time here and then stopped working for good)

[joemama-2]

this is not how you imagined your friday night would go.

you thought you’d be watching the stars by now after a nice dinner. maybe some compliments, maybe even a small kiss shared. or some held hands.

but no. because currently you’re seated on the expensive couch, eyes fixated on some random nature documentary because you don’t have the courage to face the six year old boy to your left and demand him to stop staring.

you like kids, but this one oddly makes you nervous, scared almost.

your date is in the bathroom taking way too long and you’re half tempted to up and leave. your posture is stiff, forcing yourself to find the screen interesting.

our of your peripheral, you can see the boy raise his spoonful of ice cream to his mouth, head tilting like you’re one of the animals being observed on the TV.

“are you the one he keeps talking about?”

confusion strikes you as you finally turn your head to face him. your titled head mirroring his own. “um…..i’m not sure.”

a part of you feels flattered by the sudden fact. is satoru really talking about you? but then an unsettling feeling takes place, one of hesitation and jealously. or is he talking about someone else?

“you have the black Cane Corso, right?”

ah, so it’s the former. you smile. “oh, yeah. that’s me.”

“what’s his name?” the little boy asks you, shifting his small body as the talk of dogs gains his attention by the second.

“sunny.”

his brows pinch together. “why sunny?”

“because he was a stray, i found him a box on a very hot day.”

he hums and nods before asking yet another question. you forget how curious children can be. “is he nice?”

you chuckle. sunny has the stereotype of being aggressive due to his breed and size, but he’s anything but. he’s your gentle giant who gets scared of butterflies and plastic water bottles. “he’s really nice, he loves meeting new people and licking.”

you playfully stick your tongue out with a look of a faux grimace. this gets the small boy to crack a hint of a smile. it warms your heart almost instantly. “you like dogs?” you ask him, voice softening.

he nods automatically. “i really like dogs, i have two dogs. one is white and the other is black.”

“oh wow,” your eyebrows raise. “that’s so cool, are they big too?”

“mhm.” he nods.

you do a small look around. “where are they?”

he simply shrugs and answers, “they only come out sometimes.”

you want to ask what he means by that, but you figure satoru would best know. speaking of, he must be shitting a big one or he’s trying to calm his nerves inside that bathroom down the hall.

the little boy hesitates, like he wants to ask another question but isn’t sure if he should. you give him an encouraging nod and he sighs. “can you bring sunny next time?”

—————————————————————

“when you said you were fostering, i assumed a pet or something. not an actual child.” you tell Satoru as he’s walking you to your apartment door.

the two of you stop in front and he takes this time to grin. “do i not look like a boy dad?”

your eyebrow raises with an unamused expression. “no, first off, you look like a girl dad. and second off, does he consider you his dad?”

“nah, not at all. more like an older brother if anything. or maybe that annoying uncle everyone hates.” he reaches forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “did he like you?”

“i hope so.” your lips purse. “i wasn’t exactly ready to pitch myself as a good person tonight to some kid.”

satoru chuckles, thumb lingering on your cheek. “don’t need to pitch yourself, just be you and he’ll like you just as much as i do. well—actually—hopefully not as much. i’d hate to have competition.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “he did mention a next time, though. wants me to bring my dog.”

“you mean that oversized human on all fours?”

your hand collides with his shoulder. he laughs and intertwines your fingers with his. “kidding, kidding. don’t get violent, at least not now.”

leaning down, his lips kiss your forehead smoothly, they linger for a few seconds before he mutters against your skin. “his names megumi, i hope you’ll get along.”

your stomach flutters during this moment, relishing in the easy and comfortable intimacy. you nod and murmur back. “of course.”

he pulls back and smiles down at you. just as he’s about to speak another cheesy line, you beat him to it.

“so….you talk about me a lot?”

[cutiekaijumuseum]

A little trivia for those that just got introduced to Ultraman thanks to Ultraman Rising

You know that part where baby kaiju Emi is shown a kids cartoon with an earworm of a song?

That cartoon is real!! It's called Kaiju Step Wandabada and it stars cute kid versions of different monsters from different Ultraman series (mostly the original from 1966 wich Rising is also based on). The opening shown in the movie is in stop-motion while the cartoon itself is in 2D.

The Ultraman heroes don't appear in person, but bizarrely enough they seem to exist as fictional superheroes in-universe, with the kaiju kids having toys and dolls of them. It's no surprise Emi liked it so much! She would be right at home in this show!

The episodes are 5 minutes long, there are two seasons of 26 episodes each for a total of 52. The official Tsurubaya channel has the first episodes of both seasons uploaded...

...but the rest were sadly only up for a limited time cuz gotta sell the dvds. What is officially available online right now is a series of educational shorts.

Some years ago Marvel Comics got the rights to make Ultraman comics and made a mini-series called "The Rise of Ultraman" (no relation), and these Kaiju Step designs got to appear as part of in-universe instructional videos about dealing with monsters and aliens:

So let's have a quick rundow on the little monsters and where each comes from:

Pigmon or Pig-chan is the main protagonist and new kid in town (forest). This coral-looking guy is one of the most iconic and recurring ultra monsters and the go-to kid-friendly one, as he stood out among the original set of kaiju for being friendly and heroic (as well as human-sized). He has the bad habit of dying in many of his apperences but fortunately that's not the case here.

Kanegon or Kane-chan is the second member of the protagonist trio, and the most energic and simple-minded. A coin purse monster that eats money, and usually a human kid under a curse. He actually pre-dates Ultraman, appearing in the black-and-white anthology series Ultra Q wich had monsters but not superheroes. Fortunately this one doesn't need to eat money and was born a kaiju.

Alien Dada or Dada-chan is the reliable but temperamental inventor of the trio, he dreams of building a rocket ship. One of the most iconic villains from the original 1966 Ultraman (and that's saying a lot), it's a weird alien with weird powers looking for human subjects for his weird experiments, like testing his shrinking ray. He really earns the name of a weird art movement.

Gomora or Gomo-chan is probably the most iconic ultra kaiju of all. Remember how in Ultraman Rising there is this whole sequence where the dad omniously talks about fighting him? There is a good reason for that. Gomora had the only two-parter in the original 1966 series, and was able to actually defeat Ultraman in their first figh. He's essentially Godzilla if he lived underground rather than underwater (He's even been a good guy and had a robot counterpart). Here, however, Gomora is a chill guy who's passionate about agriculture. (btw, you can also spot Gomora in Rising on a screen around an hour and eight minutes into the movie).

Red King or just Red is another iconic ultra dino, that looks like corn. In the show he's brute but well-meaning, and has a friendly sport rivalry with Kemur-chan. But in the Ultraman series he's a sadistic and murderous bully who beats up weaker monsters but gets his butt kicked rather easily by Ultraman (although more recent incarnations have have been more positive, both in his fighting ability and sometimes even becoming a loving father). (and yes, you are right, he's not red).

Jamira or Jami-chan is a passionate archeologist and fossil collector in the show, whereas in the original Ultraman he was a human astronaut that got infected by a virus. He hasn't appeared much beyond his debut... but doesn't need to, as his episode was very memorable in how sad and tragic it was. I can't imagine the target audience's whiplash seeing this cute creature one moment collecting fossils and the next having a horrible sad death. I guess one could say the same for most of the characters, but this one takes the cake.

Miclas or Mic-chan is the youngest character, a baby, and loves bugs. He was one of the "capsule monsters" from the second ultra series, Ultra Seven. Sometimes the titular ultra wouldn't be able to fight himself so he would summon up to three very loyal monsters from little capsules to do the fighting instead (or at least buy some time, they weren't very strong). One was a triceratops, another was a robot bird, but the most iconic had to be Miclas because really, what even is he? Some kind of bull toad hybrid? (By the way, fun fact, the capsule monsters were one of the inspirations for Pokemon).

King Joe (yes, that's his name) or Joe-chan is a robot controlled by alien invaders and is to Ultra Seven what Gomora is to the original Ultraman: he's the subject of a two-parter and was able to beat the hero to a pulp at first, made harder to fight by his ability to divide into three flying parts. Fortunately this Joe is very shy and very friendly.

Eleking or Ele-chan from Ultra Seven is another of the "mascot" ultra kaiju. If two ultra kaiju have to appear in anything, chances are they will be Gomora and Eleking. In fact, in Ultraman Rising you can see Eleking in a monitor right next to Gomora (around an hour and eight minutes in). It's a dinosaur-like eel monster with (of course) electric powers, and the enforcer of an all-female bug-like alien species set to conquer the earth, that are nonetheless very affectionate towards their pet-weapon dino-eel. The fact that Eleking's masters are always women may explain why the Kaiju Step one is a very femenine and elegant girl despite having King in the name, though no less dangerously electric.

Alien Guts or Guts-chan here is a very little alien bird child who can multiply into three separate individuals to cause all the destruction in their sincere attempts to help out. The original duo from Ultra Seven meanwhile are ruthless alien invaders that are infamous for freaking crucifying the aforementioned hero, leading to decades of japanese media having christian imagery for the sake of looking cool, most notably Neon Genesis Evangelion, because these birds did it first and it looked so cool.

Alien Kemur or Kemu-chan is a very agile alien that comes from the distant future of 2020 to consume humans and extend his lifespan. Here he's a friendly but competitive ninja from the present, and has a rivalry with Red King being the speed to his strenght. Like Kanegon, he pre-dates Ultraman, being from Ultra Q.

Motokureron or Kureron-chan originates from the whimsical, fairy-tale like Ultraman Taro. A kid found him as a baby and fed him until he grew to giant size, but when the kid couldn't feed him anymore he turned destructive; fortunately he was easy to pacify with food, including the kind that made him shrink. He retains his glutonny and clumsiness in Kaiju Step, often doing the bad thing (tm) so the others can teach the kids in the audience why you shouldn't do the bad thing (tm).

Nova or No-chan originates from the surprisingly dark Ultraman Leo. This creepy and bizarre ghost-like alien created a red mist that made people go crazy, and manipulated a kid with illusions of his deceased family, and under his cloth there are lots of tentacles and a scythe. So of course, in Kaiju Step she's a happy and energic little girl that loves to sing.

Mugera or Muge-chan is by far the most obscure kaiju of the cast. She's from the 2001 series Ultraman Cosmos, the one where the titular hero protects monsters instead of fighting them. Mugera is an ET-like cryptid that lives in an amusement park that only kids can see, with the ability to fix toys and heal wounds with her magic. After the amusement park closes down she phones home and the protagonists have to protect her from the goverment wich is a little too eager to shoot down the UFO that came to pick her up. In Kaiju Step she likes reading and plants.

And that was your daily dose of kaiju sugar, that may be overdose because you probably already met Emi. Cheers!

[slut4thebroken]

Jason’s Dirty Secret

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Dark pervert!Jason Todd × innocent Batgirl!reader

Summary | When Jason gives in to his urges, they only get worse.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, lowkey misogynistic!Jason lol, non con pic taking, non con groping, non con oral, non con use of sleep meds, non con come eating, non con recording, everything in this in non consensual, cause she is unaware lol, adopted siblings, but like... he doesn't think of her that way and neither does she.

Words | 2k

Notes | I don’t even know man. I think I blacked out when I wrote this

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Other innocent!reader fics

He doesn’t know how it happened. But all of a sudden it just quickly grew into a weekly routine, then a daily routine. Sometimes you would go out on patrol on days that he stayed home. So he used that time to go into your room. 

It started out simple, looking through your underwear drawer, every once in a while pocketing one to rub his dick with later. But he quickly became bolder. He’d walk in your room, then pull his pants down below his balls to free his cock and use your panties to wipe the precum beading at the tip, so it would indirectly touch your cunt. Or he’d position your pillow on the edge of the bed and rut against it, like he would if it were you under him. He had to refrain from coming on it though, not wanting it to stain and draw attention. So he settled for just smearing precum on it. 

Sometimes he’d even jack off to completion in your room. He’d go through your laundry hamper to find your panties from the previous day and put them against his face to smell you, then stroke his cock with them before bunching the fabric over the tip and coating them in his come. 

When he eventually was not as easily satisfied from that, he set up a few cameras. He put one in the light, right above your shower, and another in the vent, aimed at your perfectly placed bed, but it also pretty much showed your entire room. Whenever you got back from patrol or finished training, he’d rush up to his room and wait in front of his open laptop, his cock already hard and leaking in his hand. 

He watched you on the screen as you took off your slutty workout clothes and put them in the hamper before making your way to the bathroom. The first time he watched you shower he was completely focused on the sight of your nude body, but the second time he watched was when he got the idea. After you left the apartment, he walked in your room and jacked off the way he normally did, using your pillow or underwear, but stopped when he neared his orgasm. He headed to your bathroom and grabbed your body wash, then opened it and resumed fucking his fist. 

It’s almost like you fucking wanted him to do this since you chose a body wash that was the exact same color and conistancy as his come. So you can’t really blame him. He debated jizzing in your face wash too, but even he’s not that cruel. The next day, he watched you shower, almost immediately coming when you rubbed the body wash over every inch of your skin. 

He doesn’t even know how this idea came to him, maybe in a dream, but he wanted to do more with his come. The first time it was easy. Alfred made cinnamon rolls the day before and you took some home, so he decided to be a nice big bother and bring you one for dessert while you were studying. He stopped by his room and it didn’t take him long to come while he thought of what he was about to do. 

“Come in.” You muttered when he knocked on the door. He walked in, closing the door behind him, and you didn’t even glance up from your textbook, chewing on your pen as you read. 

“How’s the studying going?” He asked, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, near you. 

“Terrible. But I feel better now that you’re here.” You said, turning to him with a wide smile on your face. 

“I thought you could use a dessert break.” He returned your smile and held the plate out to you. 

“Oh that looks amazing.” You said, taking it from him and immediately digging in. The first bite you had no reaction, other than an exaggerated vulgar moan that made his cock twitch, but the second bite, you paused and furrowed your brows. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, jeans becoming painfully tight. 

“I don’t know, it just- it tastes a little funny.” You said, trying another bite. 

“Maybe Alfred messed up something this time. Do you want me to get you something else?”

“No- no, it’s okay.” He knew you would say that. “It’s not… bad. It’s just different I guess. More salty?” 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure.” You gave him a small smile and continued eating, making small talk that he couldn’t focus on as he watched. Somehow this was hotter than the idea of you swallowing his come after he fucked your throat. Maybe because you were unaware. 

Maybe, he thought with a scoff. More like definitely.

The next time he put it in your tea. He already knew exactly how you take your tea so he just added the milk and extra sugar to balance out the saltiness, then stopped by his room, making sure to hurry so it didn’t get cold. 

You were studying again when he opened your door. You gratefully took the tea and started complaining about an upcoming test you had, but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t. Not when you took a sip, then immediately started chugging it. 

“This tastes so good, what’d you do?” You asked, barely pulling away from the cup to speak. 

“Nothing special.” He shrugged. “I made it how I always do.” You bought it and continued drinking until the mug was less than half full. “You like it?” He asked, cock throbbing. 

“I love it. Thank you, Jay, this was just what I needed.” You smiled, setting down the mug to get up and give him a hug. You pressed your body against his, making his hips flinch forward, but if you noticed, you didn’t say anything. 

“You’re welcome, princess. You ever want more, I’ll happily make it again for you.” He tried to hide his smirk with a smile as pulled back. 

The first time he put it in your tea, he stupidly brought a spoon to mix it. The second time though, he decided to forgo the spoon all together. He came in the drink, then without giving it another thought, used his own dick to stir it. It was weird at first, especially because he was still hard, but he did it, then watched the way you gulped it down, letting out a low, satisfied moan at the taste. Was putting his dick in tea with milk and sugar a bad idea? Maybe… But any and all consequences would be worth it. 

It became an obsession, trying to put it in anything he could, and you never once questioned why some of the food he made tasted weird. When that wasn’t enough anymore, he came up with more ideas. 

You’d started taking this pill to help you sleep, only on school nights though so you’d be able to get a full eight hours, and he knew he couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste. The first time he came into your room while you were sleeping, he was cautious- never moving too suddenly or making any noise. He didn’t want to take too much of a risk so he just lifted your shirt up enough to show your tits, then fucked his fist, making sure to come in his hand. 

The second time though, he decided to be a little more bold. He was still trying not to make any sudden movements and he said your name throughout it to make sure you were still asleep, but he lifted your shirt and pulled the blankets down so he could see your panties and bare tits. This time he came on your chest, then grabbed your underwear from the laundry basket to wipe it away. As he was doing that though, you stirred, making him freeze. He waited a few seconds after you stilled again to finish wiping your chest. 

He knew he had to make sure you’d stay completely knocked out so he decided to take matters into his own hands. Along with his come, he put something in your tea that should keep you dead asleep for a few hours. You drank it eagerly, moaning at the taste, making his cock throb. When your eyes started to grow heavy, he waited only a few more seconds before lifting you and carrying you to your bed. If you asked, he’d say you fell asleep and he just wanted to make sure you’d be comfortable. That’s why he changed your clothes too. Once you were completely bare on top of the sheets, he groped your tits, paying extra attention to your nipples as they hardened easily, making him smirk. 

Suddenly moving away from you, he took his clothes off impatiently, then kneeled over your torso. He let his dick rest on your sternum, then pushed your tits together and started fucking them. You didn’t even stir, you just stayed completely still. When precum started beading at the tip, he released your breasts to grab his cock, then wiped his arousal over your lips. As he stared at your pink and now shiny lips, an idea formed. 

He gently plugged your nose and you just barely shifted before you instinctively opened your mouth letting him slide in as he released your nose. He fucked your mouth slowly, trying not to go too deep. He wasn’t sure if your gag reflex would work the same while you were unconscious and he didn’t want to risk you throwing up on his cock. 

He neared his orgasm much sooner than he would’ve liked and he let himself come in your mouth with a low groan. You let out a muffled sound, only moving a tiny bit underneath him. When he pulled back, your head lulled to the side and his come started flowing out of your mouth onto your pillow, but he paid no mind to it. It’ll dry before you wake up. 

He got up and grabbed your underwear, putting it back on, making a mental note to start with that next time. When he picked up your pajama shirt, he debated just leaving you bare but that would make you suspicious so he did his best to put it on you without getting any of his come on his hands. When he did though, he just wiped it off on your cheek. 

“Jay?” You mumbled, yawning and rubbing your eyes as you walked into the living room a few hours later. 

“Hey, princess. You passed out on me, what happened?” 

“I dunno, I just got so tired. Did you carry me to my bed?” You asked, sitting next to him on the couch. 

“Yeah. And I changed you into your pjs so you wouldn’t have to sleep in your jeans.” 

“Oh.” You looked down at your body, seemingly just now noticing what you were wearing. “Thanks, Jay.” You said, hugging his arm and leaning your head on your shoulder. 

He could only wait two days before he had to do it again. You drank his come and the drug, then fell asleep on the couch, letting him carry you to your room. He made quick work of undressing you, then opened your legs and sat between them, not even bothering to do anything other than unzip his pants. Despite his eagerness, he wanted the first time he touched you to be something you remember, so he fucked his fist, gaze trailing all over your body. 

He came with a moan, painting your cunt with his seed and letting himself rest for only a moment before grabbing your underwear and putting it back on, keeping his come in place. It soaked through the fabric relatively quickly, so he grabbed his phone from his pocket and took a picture, making sure to get your tits in the frame too. He pocketed the device and righted his clothes before getting up to put your shirt back on, already thinking of what he was going to do next. 

[inarizakis-manager]

First of all, thank you for letting me know you have a writing again! 😭✨

Second, can I please request some headcanons on how the MSBY boys would be as boyfriends, considering how professional athletes are a form of celebrity? Would they show off their s/o on social media? Do they talk a lot about their s/o during interviews?

Thanks for the support as always sweet potato 🥺 gosh, the MSBY boys!

Dating the MSBY boys and how they go about their relationship!

includes: Hinata, Bokuto, Atsumu and Sakusa.

She/her pronouns!

Hinata:

He would definitely ask you about how private you’d like your relationship to be.

If it were for him, he’d show you off to everyone always.

It is known on his social media that he has a picture of you as his lock screen

Always holds your hand when you guys are out, so fans obviously know you two are together and often see you around

If you want your relationship to be somewhat private, he’ll still occasionally bring up your name during interviews but usually to reference something you said, he won’t give out any details if you don’t want to.

Like his friends tease him for sometimes speaking in Portuguese out of nowhere and he says stuff like "sometimes when I’m sleepy I’ll start talking in Portuguese and y/n just stares at me"

If you want to keep your relationship private, he’ll only be saying stuff like: I love my gf sm 🥰

Everyone knows he’s in a happy relationship but might not know anything else.

Bokuto:

This man never shuts up about you

You are his EVERYTHING

And he makes sure everyone knows it.

He sees a chance to bring you up into a conversation, he will

He won’t give away every single detail on your relationship but by now everyone knows y how you two met, how long you’ve been together, his favourite things about you

He refers to you as his girlfriend and number 1 fan

He’s always talking about how he’s gonna marry you someday even if he hasn’t actually proposed.

The only time he’s not seen with you is when he’s in the court playing (but you’re still there in every single game)

Atsumu:

Similar to Hinata he’ll ask you how private or how public you want to be

He’ll talk about you constantly, but not so much like Hinata and Bokuto.

He is often seen walking on the streets with you

You’re probably close friends with Osamu and boy the DRAMA

Fans always make a scene when you’re seen hanging out with Osamu trying to start rumours about you two

Atsumu laughs at them publicly on his social media: "y/n obviously has great taste bcs she’s dating me, she’d never leave me for that loser"

Osamu honestly doesn’t care, he just likes to rile his brother up, so he’d tease me like: "we often get together just to complain about you 💞"

Atsumu probably gave you a necklace with his jersey number, and you’re never seen without it.

Sakusa:

Hella private guy, no negotiating

Everyone theorises he might be dating someone but no one is sure

He never answers absolutely anything about his private life

You two have been living together for the longest time and people are still convinced he’s single

Black Jackals fans think you’re someone’s friend because you’re always seen in the games, but the last thing they suspect is you dating Sakusa.

He might not look like it, but he’s hella romantic, okay? And seeing you in the crowd cheering on him, boosts his confidence.

If the public ever finds out, is because one of Sakusa’s friends (most likely Bokuto) accidentally said something like: "oh the other day, Sakusa and his gf…" and everyone is SHOCKED

Now they all begun theorising as to who could Sakusa be dating, but he’s just that good at keeping the relationship secret. He doesn’t want people sticking their nose on something so special to him.

[shoyudon]

O16 . . . MOVIE SLEEP CALL

“what’s up, buttercup?” gojo greets, leaning his back onto the headboard of his bed, prepping his laptop on top of the small foldable table, “how was your day, huh?”

you leaned back on the chair, fixing the webcam, “what is up, buttercup?” you retort back, pushing the webcam upwards a bit, “my day was just – okay. yours?” gojo could hear a few statics and grumbles from your device here and there, watching his camera in amusement at your attempt to find the right angle.

“mm, mine was okay too. kind of boring since i have no students to teach today,” the male explains, “how long are you gonna fondle with your webcam? you look good in this angle – or any other angle, actually,” he added.

narrowing your eyes at the webcam, gojo getting a zoomed in view of your face could only chuckle, “okay, i’m done. this is the angle,” you clicked your tongue, sitting back, “oh, hey, look at you wearing the new headphones. and the little sprout, how adorable. the color black looks good on you.”

gojo grins, leaning his head close to his laptop’s camera, showing the little crocheted sprout latched to his headphones, “my students liked the sprout and had me wear it the entire morning period. it’s cute. they’re fifteen by the way.”

you laugh, “your students are adorable then.”

“they could be infuriating.”

“seriously?”

gojo nodded, “seriously. i have a student, his name is megumi – sometimes i feel like i’m the kid instead of him, i can’t believe he’s sixteen sometimes. he acts like he’s on his sixties or something,” he rambled, “and there’s this kid, his name is yuuji. actually, you reminded me of him a lot; i think the both of you would get along together, i can already feel the connection. he actually follows my fan account. sheesh, talk about loyalty.”

frankly, it was refreshing to see gojo act like a teacher instead of a fan boy. in fact, he seemed like a big fan of his own students, “and then there’s kugisaki, she reminds me of a jack in a box – one second she’s angry, and one second she’s all giggly, and then all of a sudden she’s angry. she’s just unique.”

you leaned on your chair, listening to him intently, “mmm. sounds fun – i’d like to meet them someday.”

gojo gave you a thumbs up, “yuuji’s a fan of you; not as big as i am though. anyways, enough speaking of my kids, what’s the movie about?” he cuddled a bundle of fluffy blankets – prepping himself comfortably on his bed.

“how to lose a guy in ten days? you know, male lead bets that he can get any woman to fall in love with him and female lead’s a women magazine writer thinking of writing an article about how she practically leads a man to dump her, yada yada yada things happen, they meet, and their plans kind of backfired on them.”

gojo hums softly, “ooh, sounds interesting. spoil the drama,” he whispers.

shaking your head in refusal, the male grumbles softly, “wouldn’t be fun if i spoil everything now, would it?”

“you’re not wrong, but i’m curious about it.”

“let’s just watch it then,” you hover the cursor on top of the play button and press on it, going into full screen, “i’ve actually watched this – so . . . if i fall asleep mid movie, continue on watching. we can leave the call until i wake up, or you can leave first. just a heads up.”

gojo looks into the camera, smiling, “nah, i’ll accompany you. what kind of person would i be if i kept you sleeping on a chair, huh? just tell me if you feel like you’re going to doze off, we can always continue the movie next time, right?”

raising a brow in amusement, you bobbed your head once, “we’ll see.”

“-/n, hello? y/n?” 

fluttering your eyes open slowly, you raised your head up. the muscles on your neck groaning for you to stop moving for a bit to ease the soreness they were feeling – blinking the light to adjust your eyes, a voice of acknowledgment escaped your throat, “hmm? yeah, yeah, i’m awake. i’m awake.”

gojo lets out a string of breathy laughter, “you slept fifteen minutes into the movie, you sure you can go on? we can always watch this another time.”

seeing things clearly, you notice how gojo had managed to pause the movie at the 17:03 mark, “no, no. i was just – resting my eyes, for a bit. i could do this all day,” gojo barks out a laugh, “what’s so funny?”

“y/n, the bed’s right behind you. you can just go to sleep, you know?”

you wondered if this was the effect of constant overwork, the fatigue finally catching up to you, or were you just a tired person in general? or maybe both? 

“what if i lay down, move the chair, and the call stays on. we can sleep call. until tomorrow, deal or no deal?” you ask him timidly, holding back a yawn, “i’m sorry, gojo. i don’t know why i’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open, i can leave the call on, we can stay on the call since we’ve been planning this movie time–”

gojo chimes in, “you’re rambling.”

“i’m sorry – my head’s just–”

“y/n, it’s okay. really. i’m not angry or upset. honestly, i’m just happy we can spend time together despite your busy schedule, whatever you’re comfortable with, you can do it,” he tells you with an understanding smile on his face.

“i wanna leave the call on, with you, is that okay?”

he chuckles softly, “it’s okay. good night, y/n. i’m watching the movie without you,” he playfully says.

BEHIND THE SCENE !

gojo wasn't lying when he said you snored like a firetruck

your barney plushie is a childhood plushie that you still kept

gojo ended up finishing the movie alone (ft. your snoring)

TAGLIST !

@osakis-gf @catobsessedlady @jayathelostdragon @dazailover1900 @bebymylonely @starssfall @sassy-cat-in-town @fayeraa @sukunaspillow @executeher @lukabwrry @caileysdead @satxoru @misorastars @tenshiroko @myahfig4 @isometimeswritestuff @plutosgold @foxevxid @ofcqdesi @satoryaa @splzq @inupibaldspot @akio-ayashi @probablybethere @celestialzdiviner @ilykii @hotgirlshit5 @tbzzluvr @astraiahomura @nnasv @veraiism @asahiee @snwvie @n0tviv @luvvmae @alwaysinblck @luciledreamz @an-ever-angry-bi @kiwiikato @lemonnotade @kalulakunundrum @ichorstainedskin @r0ckst4rjk @lovelovelovey @jellinuy @svnkenlily @gojoful @quinnyundertow

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

[prodbymaui]

Dinner Served

hmm, I got a really big problem

PAIRING: mark lee x fem!reader

GENRE: pure filth, public sex, oral sex (giving)

WORD COUNT: 1.3k+ words

SYNOPSIS: already in a dinner with your boyfriend, yet you still craves for something else.

A/N: 'golden hour' got my brain all mush up, enjoy this 1k+ words about pure filth with the one and only, mark lee. stream golden hour and happy reading, everyone!

A fancy dinner at a 5-michelin stars restaurant, something that one could expect from the one and only, Mark Lee, the ever so romantic man most people would do anything to be with. Too bad for them because clearly, the man they desperately desires only have his eyes fixated on you, full of love and adoration.

''We'll have creamed spinach stuffed salmon, smothered filet mignon and a bottle of wine for now,'' Giving the waiter a small smile, Mark dismisses him. He taps away on his phone, eyebrows scrunch to the center in concentration.

''Look-- we're nearing to finish my new single, kinda going through the concepts I want on the music video right now,'' The screen tells you how much progress was made, making you smile in a proud manner. ''What are your plans for the music video?''

Mark doesn't hesitate to go on about his plans and all, why would he? You've always made sure that your boyfriend won't be wary of crossing the 'talking too much' boundaries whenever he excitedly shares his adventures on his job. You love to see and hear him ramble about it, even though most of the time you can't understand anything.

Though, as much as you love the way he's so dedicated about his music, sometimes, the extreme passion results to the lack of attention towards you. It's not like you want him to choose you over his passion, no. You just couldn't prevent the feeling of longing.

Throughout, you nod at him and give comments or questions as interest pricked you from time to time. Now that Mark is distracted on his phone while he searches yet another story or TMI to tell you, you take in his appearance. Wearing his black dress shirt tucked in to his black jeans, watch and rings dawning his wrist and fingers, his quite long blonde hair braided on one side-- letting the other side falls naturally. You thank every possible gods and deities to exists that you are the lucky one to have Mark Lee as your lover.

''Oh,'' Flinching in a faux surprise, the spoon hitting the floor makes a slight tud sound, catching Mark's attention. You get off your chair to pick it up under the table, getting on your knees as you hold on to the hem of your dress, preventing it to ride up.

''Get back, babe. We'll just ask the waiter for a new one.''

''It's okay, I could just wipe it with the napkin,'' You rumble a chuckle when you hear a sound of disgust from Mark, taking back what you said, informing him that it's just a joke. You catch a glimpse of Mark's blonde strand peeking at you from under the table slightly.

''Have you found it?''

''Yeah, I found it,'' Shoving your face at the clothed crotch, you lap the outline of his dick, smiling against it when you feel him jerk, enjoying the reaction.

He gulps, eyes wavering as it roams around the place, observing the different groups of people who's busy chatting and eating. They seem to be indifferent to what's happening around them. Mark sighs, closing his eyes for a quick second before he turns his attention back on you. ''Just be quick, please?''

''Babe-- what do you think you're doing? Get the fuck out of there!'' He whispered but in a shouting manner, afraid that people might notice and see your face situated right in front of his dick. Humming in stubbornness, you fondle the bump, looking up and batting your eyes innocently at Mark when he lifts up the table cloth, cursing when his dark eyes meets your doe ones.

Your lips curves to form a cheeky smile, fingers working their way to open his pants and pull down the zipper, you place a gentle kiss to the certain area which you assumes his tip. Mark, himself, pulls down the front part of his jeans, revealing his near-hard shaft, waiting to be devoured.

Taking the cock in your hands, you move to lick from his balls to the slit of his tip, wiggling your tongue with a weak attempt to dig in the parting line. Giving you a last look, Mark fixes the table cloth, enough to cover your figure and slouches, enabling you to have a much better and easier access.

You suckle the tip lightly, spitting to have it wet. It is when you realizes that you don't have much time before the waiter comes back with your food and wine, so you relaxes your throat, opening your mouth widely enough as you take him fully.

Mark must've been sensitive because his hands travels down to grasps the back of your neck, his hips thrusting upwards slightly as he tries to cut your process of prolonging the activity. You closes your eyes shut, bobbing up and down while you adjusts to his girth, feeling his thighs flexing against your cheeks.

The dick is long enough that you have to use your hand to cover the rest of its length, pumping and circling it, matching the pace of your mouth. With the cock being wet enough, you stays on the head, mouthing and sucking it eagerly, as if you have little to no patience of having his release on your tongue. You let your hands do the work for the remaining length, biting your lip when you see the color of your lipstick staining his cock a bit.

Taking a breath, tears that prickles your eyes earlier finally escapes your lids, running down your cheeks as you push Mark's shaft inside your throat again, reaching the farthest that you can. Oh how you wish you could see your lover's expressions right now. If things are different, Mark will be cursing and whining loudly, his hand will be gripping your hair in a ponytail as he fucks your mouth.

But you're in a public place right now, and he can't do what he usually does, giving you the upper hand and power to control him because what can he possibly do? Thrust his hips feverishly while he holds your head in place and risk the public seeing their dear romantic boyfriend material, Mark Lee, railing his lover's mouth like it's her pussy?

Of course, he wouldn't do that. So you take advantage of it, pressing your nose near into his pelvis, pulling off of him as you passes the work to your hands again, moving your lips to take in one side of his balls, wetting it while you let your tongue taste his flavor, closing your eyes.

Your cheeks makes a contact with the spit on his cock, smearing it messily at the right side of your face. The mixture of saliva and tears on the surface of your skin feels so fucking dirty but that's what makes it hot, especially that you're not caged in the four corners of your bedroom, the possibility of someone noticing your figure under the table stirs the feeling of thrill inside you and Mark.

It isn't that long before your boyfriend tightens his grip on the back of your neck, signalling the nearing of his release. Yet the odds seems to not favor Mark right now as your ears rings at the footsteps you're sure is coming your way, pulling off of Mark completely as you sit back on your chair, fixing yourself before someone comes.

The activity would've been naturally pulled off if Mark didn't let his usual awkward and nervous persona take over him, fully giving it away as the waiter's eyes widens, clearing his throat while he tries to stop the stuttering when he places the foods and wine on your table. Smiling at him, you say your thank yous.

''Can I get a new spoon, please? And here's your tip, I apologize for the trouble,'' The waiter have no choice but to nod, hoping he wouldn't see the same scenario when he comes back with your new spoon.

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap six/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

I Don’t Know You, But I Want To

summary: Sometimes curiosity has consequences.

wc: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters, mentions of death, hints on how Steve’s wife died, bouts of self consciousnesses.

authors note: sorry guys, you knew this chapter had to happen. i promise i’ll make up for it! enjoy a few more easter eggs from @carolmunson ‘s orange colored sky in here. I’ve had so much fun talking about these two old men’s friendship with you!

🌇 <- chapter five -> chapter seven

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

End of June

You didn’t realize when Steve asked you to water his plants, that he meant in just three short days after the almost kiss in his kitchen. The opposite schedules the two of you seem to always work made it so you hardly got a glimpse of him before he and Bandit disappeared to Starved Rock for what you learned was their annual camping trip.

The Good Morning Tough Girl texts started the next day after your number exchange, waking you up with a kaleidoscope of butterflies twisting and turning in your stomach and a smile so big it made your cheeks hurt. It helped you get over only getting to physically see him one time through your living room window before he left. Your phone had vibrated at your feet while you watered your now flourishing Ivy thanks to the new curtains you were proud to say were installed by yourself. You chanced a glance down at your lit up screen, his name flashing with a text that said: How’d I never realize how pretty my view is from the front yard?

The corners of your mouth twitched, flames licking underneath your cheeks when your eyes caught his out your window. The big dopey smile that took over his face made you giggle as he waved eagerly, dressed nice like he had been the morning you ran into him last week. You wiggled your fingers, biting your bottom lip at the way his dark navy button up looked tucked into the waist of his black slacks. The leather belt looked nicer than the last one, the silver of the buckle blinding in the setting sun. His hair was freshly done, free of any signs of those big hands of his. The stubble on his jaw was gone again, but you learned that was never for very long. 

Another buzz: Going to dinner with a client, wish it was fish tacos with you instead.

Steve feels like he won the lottery when he can see the way your face lights up from his spot in his front yard. Eddie’s voice rings loudly inside his head, sticking to every single one of his negative thoughts like glue telling him it’s okay and he finally starts to believe it, especially when he gets a text back from you.

Maybe next time 😉

It’s thunderstorming the day you go over, the key tucked away in a lockbox by his door. He gave you access by texting the code the night before with a promise to take you to dinner as a thank you when he got back. The nerves that dance inside you feel like they did the first time you came here when you stand in front of the stained glass of his front door even though he’s five hours away. 

It’s quiet, the lively energy from a few nights ago gone with the man. The cedar of his candle still lingers thick in the air and you can’t help but inhale deeply. It smells like him. You leave your shoes and umbrella on his front porch, closing the door gently like you were scared to wake someone up. The pattering of the rain on his windows fills the silence, your shoulders dropping in the serenity. Pulling your phone from your back pocket you look through your texts with the list of the rooms the plants were in. 

Only three — his office and living room on the first floor and his bedroom on the second.  

The coffee white oak floors creak under your socked feet as you take your first apprehensive steps past the entryway. He left the watering can on the kitchen island just like he said he would, your skin pebbles when you’re brought back to the last time you were in here. The sun fights to shine through the thick storm clouds outside, making the lighting that bleeds through his windows soften everything up. The water from the sink hits the metal of the can, mixing perfectly with the rain. 

You wish he was here.

The can is heavy in your hands when you stop at the doorway of the living room, the contents inside sloshing around and daring to spill onto his floor. You curse under your breath with a pause to take in the room you only got a glimpse of before. There’s an electric fireplace, tall black steel that takes up most of the wall next to the sliding glass door that leads to his small backyard. 

Two large beige area rugs cover most of the wood floors in here, a cream frayed trim lining them. Bandit’s bed sits big, fluffy and dark brown nestled by the fireplace, giving him a perfect view out the window. Strands of his lighter hairs leave behind evidence that this might be his favorite spot in the house. A woven basket filled with various chew toys that look freshly tossed in isn’t very far from it. The rain comes down harder but you can still see the spots of lime green littering the grass where the rambunctious German shepherd left his tennis balls. Spoiled.

The cognac color of his leather couch set is rich, and it shines even in the dim lighting like it was freshly lotioned. It looks like the kind of comfortable where the cushions mold against the weight of your body - soft, inviting, the one in the middle looking a little more worn in than the rest. This must be Steve’s favorite spot. 

Your eyes meet the 65” TV mounted to the wall in front of it and realize why. The coffee table matches the dark color of the floors. The candle that was the culprit for the smell of his house sitting in the middle next to three remotes lined perfectly next to each other.

There’s a long, taller companion table that sits at the other doorway that leads back out to the landing of his staircase. Framed pictures, bottles of various liquors of all shades and crystal cocktail glasses cover the top of it. 

What does he think of your place?

You try to push the intrusive thought down as you make your way to the lush Monstera plant that sits in a white pot on top of wooden legs next to the sliding glass door. Its leaves hang heavy, clearly taken care of. The deep emerald of it reminds you of what Steve’s eyes look like sometimes. The soil takes what you give it greedily, barely leaving enough for the few smaller plants that rest on shadow shelves along his gray walls. A few of them make you stand on your tiptoes to reach.

Curiosity wins on your way to refill the can, crossing the room to look at the framed pictures. You aren’t surprised when you see one of Eddie and Bandit as a puppy, it looks like the first day they brought him home. Eddie’s dimples show in a bright smile as he looks at the camera with Bandit’s big bubble gum pink tongue pressed sloppily against a clean shaven cheek.

The other is of Steve and a curly haired boy at a college graduation, they both look like they were caught in the middle of laughing at something. You can’t help your own smile when you look at it. Steve looks a little younger, a little less gray in his hair like it had only just started. He’s wearing wire rim glasses, and that crisp white dress shirt you like him in so much. He looks happy.

The last one is of Steve and Bandit. A selfie taken at sunrise, Bandits tongue sticks out and you swear he’s smiling just like his handsome owner that has him pulled against his side. A part of a tent peaks over his shoulder and you wonder if this is where they’re at right now.

You’re hit with the smell of his cologne when you open his office door, your thighs pressing together when you imagine him sitting in the big black leather chair behind an even bigger, matching colored desk. Glass cased baseball memorabilia takes space on one of his walls, along with plaques of achievements from his job. There’s framed pictures of him shaking hands of baseball players you couldn’t name, but you’re sure a normal person who liked sports could. There’s a tall bookshelf on the other side of the room. The spines all glossed, bright bold wording of sports memoir’s, marketing guides, and what looks like college course advertising books.

The floor of this room is carpeted with the same color as the area rugs in his living room. Your footsteps are a little more careful as you try not to spill any water on it as you make your way to the three hanging spider plants in the window that overlooks his front yard. 

Your nose catches a hint of the cigars you know he smokes as you get closer to his desk. He must keep them in here. A silver closed MacBook sits on top of it, another baseball — only this one is signed and kept safe in a glass case. There's a Polaroid of Bandit with a cubs hat on his head with a laughing Peach barely visible behind him. The obvious closeness of the three of them makes you realize how much he let you into his world the other night. 

A world where he wanted to kiss you.

You curse under your breath when you almost spill water on the carpet, too lost in realization of what this could be.

When you reach your final destination on the second floor, you stop at his closed door. Your hand hovers over the knob, heart hammering so hard in your chest like he was waiting for you on the other side. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you exhale through your lips - willing your nerves to give you mercy. There’s a soft click when you turn the knob and the quietest noise from the hinges when you push it open.

The crisp white of his fluffy duvet that covers his king size bed, mutes the gray of his walls. The olive green throw at the end of it that matches the area rug under the bed, the warmth of the color relaxes your senses. Your breathing evens out, your heart rate slows down. 

There’s another dog bed at the foot of his that matches the one downstairs and you wonder how often Bandit really sleeps in this one at night. The lack of hair on it compared to the other one tells you not very often. Your cheeks tingle fiercely when you see the mirror you got a glimpse of his bare chest through, your eyes quickly finding the bathroom he had come out of. 

“Jesus Christ,” you grumble to yourself, trying to push back the memory while standing alone in his bedroom. 

There’s another Monstera by his window that you can see your bedroom out of. The last one on the list. You have to pass by another large dresser on your way, even more pictures sit on top of it, taking up the space that was left next to a cherry wood watch box. Another cedar candle sits behind the framed pictures, the scent lingering in the air despite not being lit.

The plants take what’s left in the watering can, and you peek out the window just to see what he sees. The navy curtains you’d hung up are half open giving you a perfect glimpse into your room, the pile of dirty laundry you plan to do after this perfectly visible. You gulp audibly.

The can swings loosely in your hand when you walk to the dresser, a smirk already forming on your lips at the thought of what these ones will tell you about him. Your eyes land on one of him in between Eddie and Peach on what seems to be their wedding day, both of them placing sloppy kisses on either cheek. The big dopey grin face doesn’t hide the tear stains. The White Chapel sign behind them tells you it’s Vegas, and the way Steve is dressed as a much sexier Elvis only confirms your suspicions. 

Next to that one is a picture of Steve, only he looks really young- fresh out of high school young. Biting your lip into a smile at the volume of his hair, he’s leaning against a maroon BMW with pants so tight you're sure they made all the girls flustered. You shake your head with a roll of your eyes before taking in the brown curly haired girl sticking her head out of the back seat window. Another girl with honey waves pushing her head out in the small space next to her, you swear you can hear the giggles that are so evident on their faces.

Thunder cracks loudly outside, bringing you back with a jump. You’re dreading the short walk home. You glance out the window wearily before bringing your attention back to the little bit of Steve scattered over the top of his dresser. Then you see it. You see her.

The frame that holds the picture is silver, the words ‘always and forever’ etched across the bottom. It’s taken somewhere tropical and Steve looks like he’s your age in it, his jaw somehow sharper, his hair blonder. His smile is so big it shows all of his teeth, a bright yellow short sleeve button up that makes his skin look golden. The top two buttons undone revealing the chest hair you’d gotten a few glimpses of. He’s glowing. 

She’s just as beautiful, big bright green eyes and dark chestnut hair that falls in effortless curls down to her chest. They look natural, like she didn’t have to do it herself. She’s tucked into his side in what looks like seats in the back of a boat, the coral dress that flows over the curves of her body makes your stomach turn. The big rock on her hand rested purposefully on his chest tells you exactly what this picture is.  

Jealousy twists green in a tight knot inside of you, guilt you weren’t expecting makes you feel nauseous when you see what’s hanging off the corner of the frame. A dark teal rubber bracelet with the words Team ALS Chicago 2022 in white font.

Lightning flashes white hot, making something gleam and catch in the corner of your eye from his watch box. Taking a closer look, the tightening of your chest at what you find makes the air leave your lungs all at once when you see their wedding rings tucked in between the soft white cushions inside the box. 

The reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. Steve had a whole life before he met you. A life with someone beautiful, someone he didn’t fall out of love with, someone who didn’t break his heart, someone who, if things were different he’d still be with.

If you moved next door in that reality, you’d just be someone he’d maybe wave to from time to time, not paying any mind to the thirty year old girl already suffering through a midlife crisis next door. The girl who moved to the city with no friends and no plan. The college drop out. The opposite of the well put together woman that belonged hanging off his chest like that, with a ring on her finger that could pay off your credit card debt and then some.

How can you compete with a ghost? The nagging feeling that you’ll always be second best already stings and he hasn’t even picked you yet.

You try to blink away the tears that threaten to spill out, feeling stupid for being this upset over what started off as a silly crush, it really shouldn’t hurt this much. The cedar that comforted you feels like it's suffocating now. Like he’s here. The thought of bringing the watering can down doesn’t even cross your mind when you leave it on the dresser to make your escape.

The breath that comes out through trembling lips is shaky, still, you're proud of the fact that you haven’t cried yet. 

Tough girl. 

When you open the front door, it's windier than when you first got here, the sun starting its disappearing act for the moon. It makes the summer storm match the one brewing inside of you. You shove your feet into your shoes before pulling the door shut behind you. You lock the key back into the box, before grabbing your umbrella. Your vision goes blurry but you don’t give into it, telling yourself it’s stupid to be so upset. The buzz of your phone in your back pocket is what stops you from taking the first step off his porch. 

Steve

Found a spot with some service on our hike, just wanted to check in. Hope you got into the house okay. Bandit says he misses you.

The dam that you’d worked so hard to build breaks, tears falling down your face like the rain falling from the sky. You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand before you reply to him for what you tell yourself is the last time. It’ll hurt less like this, it’s better for both of you this way. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself before you hit send.

Plants are watered 👍

beta’d by: @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

chapter seven

[authorhjk1]

Water gymnastics

Blackpink's Lisa X Male Reader

And that's how this happened."

The woman in front of you laughs as she covers her mouth with her hand.

"You didn't ask him to do anything?"

You shake your head, before reaching for the glass of wine.

The brunette giggles as she puts another piece of the cake into her mouth. You realized that she started to eat smaller and smaller bites. Maybe because it tastes so good.

"What flavor is that, by the way?"

"You wanna try?"

She uses her fork to separate another piece from the cake, before moving it towards you. It looks like she wants to feed you. You hesitate for a moment, knowing that this would look kinda weird. Especially, if someone would take a picture. Her fans wouldn't appreciate it and neither would Ahin.

You lean forward quickly, hoping that no one saw it. She gives you a big smile as you chew the chocolate cake, before swallowing it.

"Chocolate."

She nods excitedly before eating another piece herself.

"I honestly don't get, how you can eat waffles and stuff for supper and cake as dessert afterwards."

The brunette shrugs her shoulders as she smiles.

"I like sweet things."

She bites her fork and looks at you a second too long.

Once you finish your own piece of cake, you lean back in your chair, glancing at the hotel lobby, before focusing back on her again.

"Originally, I planned for all four of you to be here, but your company didn't want to hear that. I don't know why, but it might have been more profitable."

"That's because they have other schedules as well. And the company is sometimes more than just annoying."

You chuckle at her last comment, glad that you are your own boss.

"Have you been in Paris before?"

Nodding, you remember what happened the last time you were here.

"I did. I found a place that serves delicious tteokbokki."

"Wow. Your pronunciation is really good."

"That's because I speak Korean."

"Really?"

She eyes you with a surprised look on her face. Up until now, the two of you spoke English.

"I moved to an area around Seoul about two months ago."

"We could have met way sooner then."

She laughs as she playfully slaps your hand, which is resting next to your plate, across the table.

"Well, turns out I need to open a restaurant to be able to meet you."

The brunette chuckles as she shakes her head, finally chewing on her last piece of cake. You pick up your phone, which starts to vibrate on the wooden surface next to your hand. A message from Ahin appears on the lock screen.

"I'm gonna try on the clothes which I'm gonna wear tomorrow. Help me pick something? 😉😘"

You glance at the brunette, who is sipping her wine.

"I have something coming up. Unfortunately."

You gesture with your phone in your hand.

"Since the two of us are staying here, I guess I will see you today or tomorrow again. Maybe for breakfast."

The Thai girl's smile drops a little, but she nods her head.

"Breakfast with you sounds great."

Getting up, you button your jacket, before walking off. Going past her chair, you lightly place your hand on her naked shoulder.

"Have a good night."

"You as well."

Not turning around, you hear sounds, which indicate that she is watching after you as you walk out of the luxurious restaurant and towards the elevator. Pressing the button for the seventh floor, you video call your girlfriend.

As the doors open, she picks up. The pink haired woman has already placed her phone on the counter of her kitchen, showing her entire living room. You don't know what is keeping the phone up right, but you see all kinds of clothing sprinkled throughout the room.

Ahin is standing in the center. You don't even look up as the doors close again as you see her wave at you. Only wearing a black lacey bra and matching panties.

"Is this so difficult that you need my help?"

You ask in a mocking tone, before looking around, gladly realizing you are on your own.

"Well,"

Ahin places her hands on her hips, glaring at you.

"First of all, I'm doing this to look good. Which means, you have to help me, because I value your opinion the most."

Your girlfriend uses her thumb to slowly let her right bra strap slide off her shoulder.

"Second of all, I'm sure this will be very beneficial for the both of us."

Smiling, you walk out of the elevator, heading towards your room.

"I don't think this is how it works."

You sigh as you slowly stroke yourself, watching Ahin.

"What do you mean?"

She asks with an innocent look on her face.

"Don't you have to wear clothing to see if your accessories match it?"

Ahin puts on the second one of her long sparkling earrings, before putting her hair behind her ear. It's the only thing she is wearing.

"Are you actually complaining right now?"

"Not at all."

You grin as you keep your hand on your shaft. Usually you like to be a little rougher, even with yourself. But right now, this seems just as enjoyable.

Ahin uses both her hands to put her long pink hair behind her back gracefully. One of her fingers traces along her collarbone afterwards.

"Would you like anything on here?"

"You are not talking about a necklace, are you?"

She bites her lip seductively, trying to make you cum faster.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Now she plays coy as she walks over to the counter, where the phone is standing on.

"What kind do you like?"

She shows you a silver necklace, which matches her earrings.

You nod as you honestly don't focus much on her necklace. The way she is slightly leaning over the counter makes her chest look bigger.

"Or maybe this one? I would look hot in this. Don't you think?"

You tear your eyes away from her naked body to see the necklace in her hand. Or rather her choker. She puts it on, before letting her arms rest at her sides.

It's a black piece with small silver stripes in it. At the front a word in silver letters catches your eyes.

"Cumslut"

"I don't think this would be very appropriate."

You stroke yourself a little faster as you see Ahin like this. Naked. Only wearing her earrings and that small piece of fabric around her throat.

"But you seem to love it."

She winks at you.

"I won't wear it tomorrow evening. I don't know about tomorrow night though."

You chuckle as you see her start to pose a little. Her right hand rests on her waist, while she bites her finger on her left hand. She makes sure you have a clean view at her throat.

"Do you have anything else like this?"

Ahin's eyes sparkle with amusement.

"You would be surprised."

"How come?"

"Well, in case you wouldn't accept my confession, I was prepared to seduce you until you would give in."

"Maybe I should have waited a little longer then."

She bites her lip.

"I have so much stuff. I will make sure you won't regret your decision."

You are about to answer, when another message blocks your view. Groaning in annoyance, you read it. It's important, unfortunately.

"Ahin."

You sigh as you swipe the message away.

She pouts already, knowing what you are about to say.

"This is important. It's about tomorrow."

"You should pay more attention to me, you know?"

"I just spend twenty minutes watching you try on clothes."

"I think we both know you did more than watching."

"Ahin. I have to go now."

She rolls her eyes, before looking at you excitedly.

"Give me a second!"

She scurries out of view, probably towards her bedroom. She comes back a moment later, hiding something in her fist.

"Got something for you."

She wiggles her eyebrows playfully, before opening her hand. You sigh as you see the pink item.

"You might be overestimating my phone. I doubt, it would reach you from here."

Ahin shakes her head as she puts the small vibrator on the counter.

"I have the original remote, you know? I don't need you to get me off on the plane."

She sticks her tongue out as if she won this fight.

"How come you are so horny all the time?"

Ahin points at her choker, raising an eyebrow. No words needed.

Another message pops up.

As you see your phone's screen light up, you swim towards the edge of the pool. Drying your head with a towel, you answer the call.

After you got two messages earlier, you had to go the restaurant for some final decisions for the opening. Once you got back, you decided to cool off by taking a swim, since Ahin would be asleep by now. The time difference sucks.

Luckily, this call only takes a couple of minutes. As you hang up, you see someone entering the pool area.

The brunette is still wearing the yellow dress she wore at dinner.

"Lisa."

You greet her, when she sees you in the pool.

"Hi! Are you swimming as well?"

You nod, before letting go off the edge.

Pushing yourself off the wall, you watch Lisa walking towards the pool. Her skin is darker than Ahin's due to the sun. As you take in her body, you remember what your girlfriend did to you earlier.

Lisa sits down in one of the chairs, watching you in the pool.

"Are you not coming inside?"

"Is it cold?"

You shake your head as you swim a little closer.

"Maybe later. I had a drink at the bar."

You chuckle as you reach the edge of the pool once more, only two steps away from your new model.

"I think I have something to make you sober."

Before Lisa can reply anything, you are already moving. Drops of water hit her skin as you splash her with it playfully. It's not much, but there are now dark spots on her dress.

"Yah!"

She chuckles and glares at you at the same time.

"Now, I'm definitely not going in."

You rest your forearms on the edge and you catch Lisa staring at them. You were surprised at first, when Ahin complemented you on your forearms, when you rolled up your sleeves once. It looks like she isn't the only one, who likes them.

You tap the tiles with a finger, while looking at Lisa.

"If you don't want to get hit again, you have to join me."

She leans back in her chair, a cocky grin on her face.

"Make me."

"Your decision."

You pull yourself up, lifting your body out of the water and the pool.

Lisa can't help but stare as she watches you. Working out and sleeping with as many Korean stars as possible marks your body. She bites her lips as the muscles in your arms move. Her eyes fall onto your chest and then your abs as you leave the pool. The water glistens on your skin and partially drops down your body.

Looking towards her, you catch Lisa staring.

"Wanna take a picture?"

Her cheeks turn the deepest of red as she looks away. You walk over, standing in front of her.

"Take off your dress."

Lisa looks at you with wide eyes.

"W-What?"

"You don't want it to get wet, do you?"

She shakes her head hesitantly.

"Or do you plan on walking through the hotel in a drenched dress?"

Shaking her head once more, the brunette slowly stands up.

"Give me a second."

You don't actually know if she is wearing her swimsuit, or anything for that matter, underneath. Not wanting to look like a creep, you turn around. Hands folded behind your back, you look through the windows on the other side of the pool.

You hear her dress drop. Before you can react, you hear Lisa's shout.

"Yah!"

Something hits you in the back. Surprised, you stumble forward. That something, probably Lisa herself, pushes you further. Falling over the edge of the pool, your instincts take over. You reach behind you blindly, trying to hold onto anything. It feels like you caught her wrist. You fall face first into the water.

Collecting yourself, you look around, still underwater. You see Lisa's wide eyes as you keep holding her.

Wanting to have your revenge, you grab both of her hands with one of yours, before swimming upwards. The pool isn't deep. Maybe twice as deep as Lisa is tall.

When you break through the water, you pull her with you.

"Hey!"

She coughs as you look at her. The yellow dress is gone and reveals what Lisa was wearing underneath. A white bikini with different patterns on it.

"Who is staring now?"

She chuckles as you look into her eyes. Her dark hair is all wet, partially sticking to her skin.

"Just wondering how I should take revenge."

Before she can react, you pull Lisa towards you. The water makes both of your movements slower, but you manage to hold onto her hands. You pick her up bridal style. One hand reaching around her back, still holding hers, while the other grabs her thighs from underneath.

Her wide eyes are only millimeters away. Her nose almost touches yours. You catch Lisa glancing at your lips, before you lift her out of the water. Her body drips like a waterfall.

"Have nice flight."

Lisa's mouth opens wide to protest, but you already throw her up. She is not very heavy, so you can easily do it. You watch her hang in the air for a second as if time has stopped for a moment. Turning away, to not get hit in the face again, you hear Lisa hit the water. A wave washes over your body as she lands right next to you.

You turn around, the water slowing down your movements once more. She jumps out of the water, shaking her head.

"You! I could-!"

She raises her hand, but you jump her again. Quite literally this time. You push her against the edge of the pool. Lisa feels the cold tiles against her shoulders as you press yourself against her. The two of you stand as close as before.

"You could what?"

You tilt your head slightly.

"Shut up."

Lisa sneaks her arms around your nape and leans forward. Your lips touch and you can taste some of the water on her lips. You and Lisa make out in the pool. The water almost reaches her chest, while barely half of your body is getting wet.

You hold the back of her head with one hand, the other holds onto the edge as you slightly lean against it. This way, you can kiss Lisa comfortably, without having to pick her up.

The fierce Thai girl keeps kissing you, before she finally pushes you away, her hand still on your chest.

"I don't think my boss meant this when he said " do your best, Lisa "."

A sly grin plays on her lips.

You take her hand off your bare chest and pull her towards you again.

"Time to live up to his words."

Lisa bites her lower lip, before you capture it with your own pair once more.

"Fuck, you are hot."

She whispers into your mouth.

You break the kiss and reach underwater to grab her thighs. Lifting her petite body out of the water, you hold Lisa on your arms. Tasting the water on her toned stomach, you kiss her skin.

The brunette holds onto your hair. You move your lips as if you are running through an imaginary labyrinth on her abs. Occasionally using your tongue, you lick her belly button, making her giggle slightly.

"That tickles."

One of her hands is placed on your back. Her pink nails scratching you slightly, whenever you make her breath hitch.

Lowering her a little, you are now face to face with Lisa's bikini top.

"I think you are wearing too much clothes."

She reaches behind her to undo the strings, which hold it together and in place, before throwing it behind her. You palm her small mounds, admiring them for a moment, before leaning forward.

Yet again, you make your way all over her body. And once more, Lisa's nails find your skin. She isn't scratching hard, so it doesn't hurt, but it makes you want to please her harder. You take one of her nipples into your mouth, sucking on it, playing with it, before you focus on the other one. Switching again and again, you feast on Lisa's chest and the rest of her body as she squirms in your arms, never letting the water rest.

You stop as the lights suddenly turn off.

"What happened?"

You laugh at Lisa's slightly scared tone.

"After 12 pm, they turn off the lights in this room. We can turn them on later with the light switch."

The only lights which illuminate the pool now, are the sparkling lights from outside the windows. The city of Paris makes you see the silhouette of Lisa's body.

You resume your work on her tits, occasionally moving a little lower to pay attention to her stomach.

"Fuck, yes."

Lisa begins to slowly grind against you. Her hips are just above yours. You lower her a little further, which makes her moan as she feels your dick inside your trunks. Taking the new position as an opportunity, you dive into her neck. You kiss more and more of her skin as she starts to grind against you faster and faster.

You feel one of her hands reach downwards to cup your crotch.

"You feel so big."

Kissing her harder in response makes her moan again.

"Let me suck your cock."

That's a demand you can't say no to.

Slowly lowering Lisa's body into the water, you feel her slide out of your grip. You move back a little to sit on the upper half of the steps, which lead into the pool and which the two of you ignored earlier. Before you are able to sit probably, you can already feel her greedy hands on your waistband.

In a blink, your trunks are off and you feel Lisa's fingertips on your cock. The water adds a new sensation to it.

"Let me get out of the water."

You try to move upwards since you figure Lisa wouldn't love the idea of sucking your cock underwater.

Suddenly the door opens and you hear a man's voice.

"Mr. (L/n)? Your drink?"

He sounds a little confused and you remember that you ordered something before you came here.

You are about to say something, when you realize that you are holding Lisa's head under the water. Her hands are resting on your thighs. Then you feel her lips on your tip.

The man reaches for the light switch. That's the only thing you can see in the dark.

"Don't!"

You almost curse as you feel Lisa's lips move further down.

"I like it like this."

"Sure, sir."

You can hear the uncertainty in his voice. But you can't risk being caught. This is against the law in France anyways. You are in a public place. There is just no one else here at the moment.

"Can you just put the bottle on the table over there?"

"Of course, sir."

You can feel Lisa struggling for air. Just as the man from the staff turns around, you pull her head up. She gasps for air quietly. You can barely see her wide eyes.

Looking behind you again, you see the man turning around. Once more, you shove Lisa's head underwater. You hiss through your teeth as you feel her warm mouth around your cock.

"Anything else, sir?"

"No thanks."

You are about to scream at him to get out. Lisa's tongue flicks against your tip.

"Have a pleasant night, sir."

"You too."

The brunette gives your tip a small bite. It barely hurts, but jolts of pleasure rush up your spine.

You see the man walk through the door. Lisa taps your thighs again. As soon as the door closes, you pull her up.

"Holy fuck!"

She gasps as she recovers from her involuntary diving lesson.

"Now, get up."

She motions for you to move and you climb two more steps. The water is only reaching your knees now.

Lisa leans forward. And once again, you feel her lips on your cock. You can barely see her head, bobbing up and down as she sucks you off.

"Fuck."

You reach forward to hold her hair back. One of her hands is holding onto the base of your cock, while the other rests on your thigh. Lisa keeps her rhythm as she gives you head. Her tongue flicks against your shaft occasionally, before she takes more of you into her mouth.

At one point, you realize you have already adapted to her rhythm. You start to guide her head as you feel Lisa giving up control. Her warm mouth hugs your cock as her lips glide along its length.

Both of her hands are now resting on your thighs as you slowly start to fuck her face. Lisa doesn't move, her mouth a wet sleeve for your cock. You make her take more and more, until you hear her gagging.

When you let go of her, Lisa gets off your dick.

"I wanna fuck you."

She states, before climbing on top of you. Since she now knows, you might get caught, Lisa wants to do this quick.

You look at her in surprise as you feel her straddle you.

"I need it."

She kisses you once more as she reaches down, holding your cock in her hand. You hear her whimper as you begin to penetrate her and you realize that it's not her pussy.

"Lisa, what-"

She shuts you up with another kiss.

"This is my tightest hole. Don't you like it?"

You honestly can't complain as she sinks herself onto your cock.

"Fuck!"

She moans loudly as you enter her further.

Lisa does feel tight, but you realize that she has done this before. Her ass easily adjusts to your cock, making it less painful for her. You feel the ring of her muscles glide along the length of your shaft. The pleasure, which starts to build in your groin is already becoming unbearable. You reach for something, anything, to let it out. Your fingers close around Lisa's throat as you find it. You weren't searching for it, but the way the brunette moans, signals that you are doing the right thing.

She starts to slowly move up and down. The waves become bigger once more, due to her movements. Lisa was right. Her ass is really tight. And because you can barely see anything, it heightens your other senses even more.

With one hand on her throat and the other on her waist, you let Lisa bounce on your cock.

"Tighter!"

She yelps as she impales herself on your cock over and over again. You do as she says, tightening your grip on her throat. Her moans become raspier and you feel her walls clench around you. Your hand on her waist moves towards her ass, occasionally squeezing her cheeks.

"Fuck you are big."

You feel her becoming faster and now you regret not being able to see her face. The water splashes around the two of you and except for Lisa's moaning and her skin hitting yours, it's the only sound in the room.

Lisa's own hands are now both placed on your shoulders and she leans forward a little. Her head buries itself in your shoulder as she tries to muffle her moans. Your hand leaves her throat and dives for her pussy.

You start to rub her clit as she keeps bouncing on top of you.

"I'm gonna cum!"

The combination of your cock in her ass and your thumb on her clit proves itself too much for Lisa. The Thai girl manages to ride you a little longer, before she suddenly stays in place. Her hips seem glued to yours as her body freezes.

"Fuuuck!"

She moans loudly, which echoes through the room. You actually can't tell if she squirted or not, since you are wet anyways and it could have been a small wave.

"More. More."

Lisa begins to move to get off of you. You feel the ring of her muscles slide along your shaft, until you leave her.

You suddenly hear a knock on the door.

"Fucking hell."

You murmur, before glancing at Lisa. She is already in the water again, motioning you to follow her. And just as before, you sit in the same place as earlier, with Lisa's hand on your cock. She is ready to dive as soon as the door opens.

Once it does, you see some guy walk inside. The outline of his silhouette shows that he is still wearing his clothes. Feeling Lisa's lips on your cock again, you are too late to stop him. The lights turn on and you probably look like a deer in headlights.

The man jumps as he sees you sitting in the pool.

"What are you doing in the dark, mate?"

He has a thick British accent.

"Just wanted to enjoy the view."

You lazily gesture towards the window as you realize that Lisa's bikini top is swimming near by. You become nervous. Especially since Lisa is tapping your thighs again. Her lips around your cock are sealed tight.

"The showers are behind that door by the way."

You point to your right, hoping he would neither see Lisa nor her clothes.

"Thanks, mate."

He walks past you and you instinctively push Lisa's head down a little further. A couple of bubbles escape her nose and reach the surface. You crane your neck, waiting for the moment he steps through the door.

You pull Lisa out of the water, who is gasping for air again.

"Don't push me even further."

Her hair sticks to her shoulders and cheeks.

"Just making sure we don't get caught."

"Lets make you cum then."

Her blunt tone surprises you a little, but you follow her out of the pool. She looks over her shoulder at you, before kneeling on the chair, she sat on earlier.

"Pound me."

You step behind her and you see that she is still wearing her white bikini bottoms. She must have slid them aside earlier. You untie the strings, which hold the last piece of her clothing in place.

Her firm cheeks make you want to give her a couple of good slaps, but how are you going to explain those sounds? Instead, you just squeeze them, harder than before.

"Fuck me already."

Lisa sighs and reaches behind her. She pulls her ass cheeks apart, showing off her hole. You place your tip at her entrance and with one slow stroke, you are back inside her ass.

"Right there."

Lisa sighs again, trying to be a little quieter than before. Knowing that the other guy could come out any minute, you start to fuck Lisa into the chair. You start to chase your own orgasm as you feel her tightness around you.

The Thai girl's moans become louder with every thrust. You get nervous, when she doesn't stop. And although you hear him showering, her moans and screams would eventually overpower the shower.

While one hand stays on her waist, the other reaches forward. You close her mouth with your hand, making her moan and scream into it.

Her still wet body makes it hard to hold onto as you keep fucking Lisa into the wooden chair. It scratches on the tiles as you rock it back and forth. She is holding onto the backrest with both hands now, her knuckles turning white.

Lisa moans and says something, but you can't hear her. You can't stop fucking her like this. The sound of the chair sliding over the tiles becomes louder.

Lisa's ass hugs your cock tight and you can feel yourself, slowing approaching the end.

"Fuck, your ass feels great."

You feel her smile into your hand.

Due to her wet skin, your have to readjust your hand on her waist occasionally. Every time you do, you grip her a little harder. Slowly, red marks of your fingers start to appear.

You hear Lisa mumbling something inaudible again, but you can't take the risk of removing your hand.

The pressure in your crotch starts to build up further.

"Lisa-"

You are unable to say anything else. She nods vigorously. You feel her body shake a little and her ass gripping you even harder.

"I'm gonna cum inside."

She doesn't stop nodding as you keep plowing her into the chair.

You start to lose your grip and your hand slips off her mouth.

"Fuck, yes!"

Lisa takes her chance.

"Fill me up!"

In the back of your mind, you register that the sound of a running shower is gone. It's not like you can stop now anyways.

Lisa arches her back and it feels like you can go even deeper now.

"God yes!"

Lisa's head is now hanging off the backrest, while both your hands are holding her hips. You pull her back towards you, whenever you thrust forward.

"Almost there."

You groan, too overwhelmed by this quick but hard fuck.

Your grip tightens one last time and you can feel Lisa's muscles clench around you even harder. You manage to do two more strokes, before you finally cum.

You shoot your load inside her ass, making Lisa moan deeply. You have to hold onto the chair yourself as you fill her with your seed.

"It feels so good."

Lisa sighs.

"So fucking hot."

You are unable to speak for the moment. It takes you a couple of seconds to recover, before you remember the English dude.

"We have to hurry up."

"Yeah."

Lisa nods and you slowly start to leave her ass. Once you are out, you already see a globe of cum fall out of her hole. You grab her bikini bottoms and hand them to her, before you slowly walk into the pool. The sensation of the cold water makes it kinda weird. Once you finally reach your trunks and her top, you move to walk back out.

The two of you get dressed as fast as possible.

"I'm gonna see you for breakfast?"

You nod, before watching her walking off. Taking the bottle of gin with you, you follow her through the door. Still a little winded after a spontaneous anal session in the hotel pool.

You smile at her as you see her walk in.

"Ms Lee. It's nice to see you."

Greeting your girlfriend rather formal feels weird, but the two of you are keeping your relationship private so far.

"And it's nice to be here."

You are glad she isn't wearing the choker she tried on yesterday, but you do wonder if it's in her luggage. Nevertheless, she looks like a goddess with that pink hair and beautiful dress. The long silver earrings are now matched with a tight necklace, almost a choker. The black dress is showing off her shoulders and collarbone.

Ahin didn't want to wear anything too revealing, knowing that it might look weird and distract you from work tonight. As much as she loves to tease you and make you horny, she knows that this is very important to you.

The long sparkling silver belt adds a little more class to her outfit as well. It makes her waist look smaller.

"What would you like to eat?"

You gesture behind you, still being formal, knowing that at least one camera is capturing this moment. There are several journalists and such in this place. They are all trying to take the best pictures of the celebrities and write the best stories for their papers. After all, you are not no one. You aren't famous like Ahin, but your name is mentioned in news papers regularly.

"I would love to try some Korean dishes."

You extend your hand.

"Please follow me."

Your girlfriend takes it and you squeeze hers a little.

Your restaurant is quite unique. Instead of just serving one kind of food, you offer various dishes from countries all over the world. American burgers and pizza to Italian pasta, French delicacies, Chinese noodles and Korean BBQ and more.

It takes a lot of space, since the meals are actually made right at the customers' tables. Of course it was very expensive to plan and build all of this, but it hopefully makes you a lot of profit in the future. The walls and pictures and tables all represent the different countries you can eat from.

You and Ahin walk through the port of Venice and past the great wall of China, until you reach the banks of the Han River.

"Please, take a seat."

You gesture towards one of the empty tables. One of the chefs is already walking in your direction.

Although Ahin is a model for one of your companies, it would be weird to eat with her alone. You whish her a great night, before roaming through the restaurant once more.

[thescarletnargacuga]

MOVIE NIGHT

A BUNNYDOLL ONESHOT

WARNING: none! Only wholesome comfort and relaxation

~~~

Ragatha stood outside Jax's door holding an arm full of snacks. It was finally movie night. Every few adventures or so, depending on how traumatic they were, Ragatha and Jax would set aside time for each other and just relax with some public domain cartoons. Those were the closest things to movies the circus offered.

She knocked. It took a second but Jax answered with a confused look on his face. "Rags, you don't have to knock. You afraid you got the wrong room or something?"

"I was just being polite, but now that you mention it... I think I do have the wrong room. Byyyyye." She turns with a smirk on her face.

"Ah-ah-ah, get your raggedy [%$!#] in here." He wraps his long arm around her waist and pulls a giggling Ragatha into his room. He kept his arm around her as she tossed the snacks onto the bed and turned to face him.

Ragatha held Jax's face as he leaned down to kiss her. It was a gentle, casual kiss. It was welcoming after the adventure they had that day. They embraced and stood holding each other for a long time, letting the stress of the world melt away in each other's warmth. They didn't need words; this was their safe place to let their guard down.

"I worried about you..." Ragatha broke the silence.

Jax squeezed tighter. "I know. I didn't see the stupid pitfall. But I'm okay. Worst case scenario, Caine would have found me."

"I don't like it when he searches, he always makes it so dramatic. Like he'll only find your corpse or something." Ragatha pulled away just enough to look him in the face. "I don't like picturing that."

"You don't have to, we can't die here." Jax half shrugged. "You gotta stop letting your mind run away with such things."

".... I wish it were that easy."

"Hey..." He leaned closer, looking deep into her beautiful blue eye. "You're stuck with me, and no amount of wishful thinking is going to get rid of me."

She smiled a little and pecked his lips. "Good. So, what are we watching?"

"The [%$#!] if I know." He turned the TV on that sat across from his bed and sat on the snack covered sheets. Ragatha hopped up next to him, the bed sinking them together.

Black and white short cartoons danced across the screen. Most of them featured no dialogue, only music and sound effects. Ragatha opened a bag of chips and fed some to Jax as she munched.

Jax held an arm around Ragatha the whole time. The touch was a source of comfort for him. Like a reminder that she was really there, he wasn't dreaming. He stole occasional side glances at her, secretly admiring her. He enjoyed seeing candid moments where she simply existed without putting on an overly cheery smile.

Sometimes Ragatha would feel his stare and catch him. He'd look away and she'd smile, playfully nudging her shoulder into him as a silent : I saw that, you big softy. His cheeks would darken just a little. She thought it was adorable.

When the cartoons featured slapstick, Jax would be the first to laugh at the ridiculous violence. Ragatha being the one admiring him this time. He rarely laughed so genuinely. For him to be so caught up with mirth he was laid out on the bed with tears in his eyes, she couldn't help but find it endearing.

An evil idea struck her. While he was distracted, she tickled him. She did so lightly, in case he really didn't like it, but he howled with laughter. He curled away from her and playfully glared back. "Oh, now you've done it." He strikes back, tickling and wrestling with her, knocking snacks off the bed.

Ragatha was in a fit of giggles and could barely breathe from laughter. "OKAY!! OKAY!! UNCLE!!" She gave up under him, he relaxed and flopped his whole body on top of her like a weighted blanket, his chin resting on her chest. Ragatha slowly calmed and gently ran her hand over Jax's head, folding his ears back.

She smiled at him, a returned smile in his eyes as he looked up at her. "I love you, Jax. You big goof."

His pupils dilated. "Mrr rumphth uuu twu." He said, muffled against her chest.

Ragatha didn't need him to repeat himself, she literally felt him say it. Her heart fluttered and sang with joy. She leaned back and relaxed into the mattress. Slowly, in each other's arms, they found peace and fell into a restful sleep.

[vervainandspritz]

Not Now, Not Ever

Part 1

Sorry it took so long. I was busy.

The view was almost pleasant. Where ‘almost’ was the key word in the eyes of a person who spent most of their life seeing it: a tall building in the city center, surrounded by even taller expectations of people who somehow got there. In recent years, more and more people were finding a way to earn time. Whether it was by honestly earning it, luck or tearing it out of some poor bastard who entered the city in search of cheap pleasure and a good time, unfortunately encountering such a frequent guest. Death.

Because that's what Dayton was known for: cheap pleasure and death.

No matter how much time passed, the luridness of Dayton lingered in Y/N’s deepest thoughts and memories. Thus the view here wasn't too bad. Dark eyes closely watched people who'd pass by the building, as her hand twirled her pen.

What a silly habit it was.

It helped her focus, at the same time ensuring that her eyes would not wander to the man sitting on the other side of the large office. Sighing deeply, Y/N leaned forward as her elbows made contact with the desk before reaching for the keyboard. The combination of symbols and numbers created password she knew by heart, typing it in within a single glance.

Hundreds of files, cases hidden under certain codes, were only known to the timekeepers who belonged to the group called A6. A6 consisted of three members. One of them was stationed ten floors higher, with gold letters on his office door, wrinkles on his face and the whole system in his hands. The second member was sitting directly in front of Y/N, separated by ten feet of distance and his stone cold expression. Raymond Leon. Even though Greenwich was bursting at the seams with people who looked permanently young, he was one of the few people she ever encountered who… never changed, not even slightly.

He had a blank expression adorning his face accompanied by scars crossing his pale skin. Weirdly bright, blue eyes dispassionately observed the environment he'd find himself in, no matter where and when. His hair slicked back perfectly, which sometimes drove her mad when she'd wake up in a worse mood.

How could he possibly do it? Not a single strand of stray black hair on his forehead throughout all the years they worked together. Scoffing quietly she rolled her eyes, realizing that her thoughts wandered once again.

It wasn't the best day. She usually had focus, but the switch she learned to make going through the entrance of the building seemed to not work very well today. Her mind was consumed with the wistfulness of the free will she used to have in the past.

Before it all started. Before she became something more than Y/N Y/L/N. Before becoming a Timekeeper.

Several decades ago when she had more in her than this fucking badge in the pocket of her leather coat.

As she suddenly got up, the armchair rolled with a screeching sound. Raymond's attention shifted to Y/N as he raised his eyebrows, looking over his screen at her feminine silhouette.

He didn't say a word, even though he wanted to ask.

She didn't say a word, even though she saw him looking.

Passing by his desk, she grabbed a lighter wordlessly as she moved towards the window, opening it wide on the arms length. The disparate feelings of fresh air and the burning nicotine filling up her lungs was all she needed at the moment.

Feeling the not quite unpleasant scent of tobacco in the air, Raymond was just about to get up to join his colleague in the window when suddenly the door swung open.

“Leon, Y/L/N” A forty year old looking woman stood in the doorway clutching onto a file with a fierce expression on her face. This felt like a breath of fresh air after spending several hours with Raymond’s impassiveness, Y/N thought. “Jameson was found dead thirty miles out of Dayton. We're dropping the case.” She said in a tired voice. Not waiting for an answer, the woman took a step back before disappearing behind the black door.

Y/N scoffed with annoyance. It was the cherry on top of her already bad mood.

“Sure, I only worked on it for two weeks. No biggie.” Her voice was stuffed with sarcasm. Her barely contained frustration filled the now silent room, getting a chuckle out of Raymond.

“In a great mood, aren't we?” He replied with a blank expression, playful mockery in his tone that he used so often, almost like a tool towards Y/N.

Getting up he closed the file, before approaching the window that she stood by. He pulled a pack of menthol cigarettes out of his coat and snatched the lighter out of her hand.

Y/N didn't reply, glancing sideways at him while taking a drag.

“Kinda funny for someone who can't even smoke like a man.” She replied smoothly, without missing a beat causing him to slightly lift one corner of his lips.

“You're enough of a man for both of us.” came out of his mouth along with a trail of smoke. Y/N realized it was only the second sentence he said to her that day, and yet, she had enough of his talking.

Putting her cigarette out, Y/N passed by him, getting back to work and leaving him standing there. Finally, she managed to get to work.

The weather was windy, the sensation of fresh air glazing his skin felt good accompanied by the scent of her perfumes and smoke. Strangely calming, even though he couldn't put his finger on what she smelled like. It's not like it matters, anyway, he thought watching over the busy city center. People rushing places even as the sun started to set was not a surprise, as Greenwich barely slept bustling with life.

Raymond rarely experienced the time where he could just be. Without pacing and his mind being on constant overdrive.

Just like now, standing by the window and pondering on the scent of his colleague's perfume, a calmness settled somewhere between his ribs. He realized that after so many years spent here in this building, with a steely badge on his chest, and with the sound of Y/N’s nails clacking against the keyboard in the background, he felt at home.

***

The whole day passed uneventfully, spent on typical, boring office work. They’d clash every now and then during the rare cigarette and coffee breaks. It was more to break the tension than out of spite; a practiced routine.

While the ticking of the clock used to be a menacing sound some years ago, now it just meant that the end of her shift was getting closer. Eventually Y/N logged out of the system, leaning back on her chair as she scanned over her few belongings on the desk.

One would think that spending most of her days for several years here, she'd have more knick knacks lingering around, but her desk was neat. Almost like a brand new working space. Y/N believed there was no need for additional chaos in her space.

As she stood up, throwing the coat over her shoulders, Raymond didn't move or look up, focused on his tasks, or at least he made himself look like it.

He almost never finished his work when others did. Some people in the office even wondered whether he’d spend his nights there sometimes. So it wasn't new to see him remaining seated as Y/N zipped up her coat, gathered her belongings, and shoved them in her purse before heading out. No words were said as the door shut behind her.

Only when complete silence filled the room did Raymond allow himself to relax a little. He slumped into the armchair as he tilted his head back, closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Subconsciously, he regretted how the sweet scent of her perfume faded away when in her absence.

***

Y/N couldn't help but feel bitterness. She remembered the time when she felt relief arriving home. That feeling was long gone once the hope of turning the apartment into an actual home faded. It was hard to make peace with, but there was nothing she couldn't handle.

Not anymore.

Y/N took a long shower and changed into more comfortable clothes. Subconsciously she skipped the kitchen, as she didn't feel like eating anything.

Wine was another story though, Y/N thought, chuckling when she grabbed her favourite kind. Not bothering to get a glass, she headed to the living room and settled onto her couch. She took her sweet time drinking, smoking, and letting herself dive into her chaotic and melancholic thoughts. Driven by the sour feeling on the tip of her tongue, Y/N pulled out her phone and scrolled to the unanswered message that had been sitting there for longer than it should have. She finally typed her reply.

“Okay, one date. Tomorrow 8 PM” she sent, tossing her phone aside before she'd change her mind.

A deep sigh left her lips, followed by a chuckle. What a mess.

***

“Fuck!” Raymond exclaimed, followed by a hiss when the heavy door made contact with his back, tearing him out of his thoughts and forcing him to stop reading the file he was holding. Turning around he noticed Y/N entering the office.

She couldn't help but let out a giggle at his angered expression before shrugging and raising her eyebrows.

“Not sure if anyone ever told you that, but Ray,” she started with a cheeky smirk, slowly becoming more serious as she took a step forward, her hand landing on his shoulder, pretending like she was massaging it. “it's not the best idea to casually stand by the door. You might get hit.” Y/N finished with a mockingly serious tone, causing him to roll his eyes and shaking her hand off his body.

“You’re in a strangely good mood. Found a penny on your way here?” He shot back, matching her tone, narrowing his eyes as she chuckled instead of rolling her eyes as she always does.

“Nope, just can't wait to finish my shift today.” She answered honestly, walking over to her desk and dumping her purse on it.

Seeing her in such an unusual state, Raymond felt a weird warmth which bothered him, like every unwanted feeling did.

“Don't worry, I'm sure your empty apartment and book won't mind if you come back late.” He said, more bitter than usual, seeing the lack of reaction.

“Actually I have plans. I don't know if you ever heard of such a thing.” She replied smoothly, slicking her hair back into a neat ponytail and keeping up the eye contact. Raymond laughed out loud, making her look at him weird.

“Yeah, sure, and I'm actually going bowling later.” He mocked arrogantly, shaking his head lightly and running his hand through his perfectly slicked back hair. Y/N felt the dig somewhere deep inside, but refused to let him see it.

“To each their own, but with your size it might be an issue to hold the bowling ball properly.” Y/N replied calmly, sitting down.

Her words hung in the air as Raymond chose to ignore her.

The entirety of her ten hour shift passed quickly, and before Ray even realized, she was gone. Once again, she left a trail of her intoxicating perfume and her perfectly neat desk.

His own desk, on the other hand, was covered in all kinds of papers, reminding him of the amount of work he willingly put upon himself.

Time always passed smoothly when he'd throw himself into the whirlwind of work. He reread some cases over and over until his sharp eyes picked up on details that an average Timekeeper wouldn't notice. That's why he was the best at what he did.

Sometimes a small crisis got a hold of him, filling his head up with unwanted thoughts about the lack of actual sense in his almost eighty year old life. Raymond would never allow himself to indulge into spiraling down memory lane, as the cloudy moments from his past would try to make their way into the view. Ten minutes turned into an hour, and an hour turned into three when finally he stopped his work. He felt the burning need for some nicotine.

Raymond rolled up his shirt sleeves, took one cigarette out of the box, and settled in his usual spot at the nearby window.

He watched the almost empty street in silence. His arm hung in the air with intentions of taking another drag when he suddenly heard a familiar giggle.

Narrowing his eyes, Raymond focused on the couple slowly walking down the street.

He saw a taller man with a sheepish smile in the company of a beautiful woman, wearing a tight but sophisticated black dress and heels with a denim jacket draped over her shoulders. An obviously oversized jacket. They talked while laughing every now and then. A smile was constantly plastered on her dark red lips.

If asked, Raymond wouldn't be able to answer why his jaw tensed so badly at the sight. He couldn’t explain how the burning in his body overpowered the burning on his fingers as the cigarette burned to the filter. Scoffing with pure anger, he threw the cigarette away before pulling down the blinds as he slumped into his chair.

His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing deepened. Raymond knew he wasn't wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair in a messy manner, ruining his perfect hairstyle.

He couldn't tell what infuriated him more; the way he reacted to the sight of Y/N accompanied by another man, or the way he subconsciously responded seeing her in such circumstances.

Taglist!

@kittenonpluto @candlelover @4ria790 @xsweetcatastrophe @cillianinlove @lau219 @theangelofbastogne @sasha28x @the-buddy-things

I can't tag some people, I don't know why. Sorry. Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part! Bye!

[reonaissance]

⟡ ──⠀ sleep tight.

⟡ ⠀ honkai: star rail.

⟡ ⠀ summary. :: even in his dreams he can't let go of his beloved. ⟡ ⠀ pairing(s). :: Dan Heng x gn!Reader ⟡ ⠀ warnings. :: sfw, angst, horror elements ⟡ ⠀ word count. :: 906

he misses the times when he was reminded to go to bed just before he almost pulled an all-nighter yet another time. he misses the time when food stood ready on his table in the archives as he came back from the toilet, remembering he missed lunch once again.

but he had you to remember him every time.

he had…

he misses the time you sat with him in the archives, idly reading a book on his mattress. your music coming so loud out of your headphones, he listened with you. sometimes the sweet melody of a duet of the violin and piano was to be heard, sometimes the soft tunes of an OST of the game you started recently, and sometimes the hard bass of some underground band, only a few people in the galaxy heard about when asked about it.

Dan Heng didn’t even have to look in the direction of his bed, he knew you were there. and now, every time he turns around to stand up, he is surprised to not see you there. not sitting in his bed, frowning at the book in your lap. sometimes even scribbling some words in your notebook.

he is surprised.

surprised you’re no longer there to keep him company.

his gaze did not move from the spot where you should've been seated, but you're not. and he feels how a stone is resting on his heart, adding more weight to it. like he doesn't have enough.

his eyes get smaller, now deeply in his thoughts. would he have had a chance to convince you to stay longer on the express? Would he had you longer by his side, if he dared to ask you?

his gaze falls on the wooden glock you gifted him when you came back from one of your trips with March. it remembered you of him, you said. it's almost 2 AM. again, he was on the best way to pull a one-nighter. and after so long, he feels drained. he lays down on his uncomfortable mattress called a bed and closes his eyes. the man rolls over on his left side, then his right, and again on his left side, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. eventually, he falls asleep. and the nightmares start to haunt him again, uglier than ever before.

it started slow, melancholic. Dan Heng just entered the train lounge and saw you, idly sitting on one of the perfectly cleaned couches with a book in one hand, the weight of the hardcover resting in your hand. slow jazz filled the room, coming from the gramophone. the scenery gave off an unfamiliar vibe. nobody else was in the room, besides him and you. something new. at least Himeko should’ve been there. he started to walk in your direction and called out your name, but you didn’t seem to react. your frowning expression was still fixated on the book in your hand. he stopped in front of you, only for you to disappear after he blinked. he took a few steps back, batting his lashes a few more times to realise what just happened. you were gone. not even the book was left behind. He turned around his axis a few times, only to stop to look at you standing beside the stairs up to the engine compartment. your face was turned away from him, only showing your back.

the archivist walked towards you, reaching out to grab your shoulder. as soon as his hand touched you, you collapsed into a mushy matter. yet again you slipped through his grasp.

what was left of you disappeared behind him, brought him to turn around only to watch you materialize into something he couldn't identify. it was a tall, slender figure out of black material. this thing stared at him with its white eyes. only for a few seconds before it attacked him. Dan Heng tried to dodge the attack, nevertheless, he was wrapped in black mist.

he winces and opens his eyes. his heart racingin his chest. the dark of his room embraces him tightly, only getting interrupted by the dim light coming from the screen of the data bank. it is nothing new for Dan Heng. it should be nothing new for him. but it feels so foreign, so wrong, so distant. you changed this feeling in him with your embrace, when you were lying beside him with a leg and arm draped over him, making him sweat underneath the blanket like hell. but he didn’t complain. he never complained around you. now it’s cold and even the small mattress feels too big now.

he could've been lying with you longer under his now cold blanket.

but he's not.

he's not with you any longer.

you’re not beside him anymore. the thought alone of you being the only person who voluntarily came to him every single time without fail chokes him. the first person in his current reincarnation who truly loved him is now gone. it ripped every single bit of oxygen out of his lungs, not letting a little bit of escape.

he knows, that would you have been with him, you would have given him all of your oxygen straight out of your lungs.

Dan Heng should’ve stopped you from leaving the express. or maybe he should have left with you. but he cannot run after you now. it is already too late.

──⠀ lovs monologue

repost time! originally something for a moot event.

© lovingluxury | @/cafekitsune’s dividers

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist: Donna Floyd

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. There has been an emergency and you have been called into the line of fire. How will the Fam react?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, creepy perv man, gunshots, violence, killing

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part 8: Pizza Joe's

Once again, days passed without seeing Jason. Embarrassment flared inside me at the thought of our last interaction. I wasn’t one that enjoyed crying in front of people. And I hadn’t just cried, I had wailed, and choked, with spit and most likely snot leaking from my face. It wasn’t a cute poetic actress single tear sniffle. It was ugly and loud. Whatever. It’s not like I want a relationship. I’ve worked hard to obtain my peace. I don’t want a man to come in and disrupt the life I’ve worked hard to build. 

I grabbed gauze packets and shoved them into my chart, trying to distract my thoughts. I had completely run through them when Duke came in with several lacerations and broken ribs from the Black Mask. I shivered when Duke told me the details. The mob boss was sadistic and cruel, Duke had barely gotten away. I couldn’t meet Duke’s eyes after that. I’ve healed the Black Mask countless times. Guilt gnawed at my bones. Duke was injured because I kept that monster alive. And how many others? That line of delightful thinking always leads me straight into a downward spiral. Quickly, I grabbed more 16 gages and refilled those as well. 

This past week has been relentlessly busy. It felt like it was a full moon every night with the amount of insanity that happened. Even for Gotham. It felt like every one of Gotham’s plentiful villains had some sort of scheme, disastrous plan, or some way to ‘conquer the world.’ It made both my jobs a living hell. 

I was a walking zombie. I would sleep at my workstation and be woken up by the Batmobile screeching in with more injuries that needed to be healed. Bruce was almost always back and forth anywhere from 4-10 times a night. It sometimes felt like he was more reckless with me around. Throwing himself into danger more than he did in the beginning. Or maybe I was just overthinking it. 

A chime on my phone interrupted my thoughts. 

[Bruce has seven gunshot wounds. He isn’t stable enough to travel. We are on 717 Street behind Pizza Joe's. Be careful the shoot-out is still happening.]

The bright screen burned my tired eyes. The second the words sank in I grabbed the emergency kit and my keys and ran. I never treated them outside of the Batcave. They had always come to me. It must be bad. 

I drove like a maniac and got there in record time. 8 minutes. 8 minutes of Bruce bleeding out. 8 minutes of more shooting and how many more injuries. A fucking lot can happen in just 8 minutes. Panic rose in my chest, but I swallowed it down. Countless gunshots popped around me, lucky enough for me, none were aiming for my car. 

I got out quickly, grabbed my gear, and ran toward the back of the shittiest pizza in Gotham. The blue on Dick’s suit stood out like a beacon as he motioned me over. My black scrubs and dark zip-up hoody instantly got soaked through with rain. I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the rain or gunshots that rang out around me like popcorn kernels on the stove. I cared about the physical state of Bruce Wayne. 

It was bad. With the rain puddle around him, it was hard to determine the amount of blood loss. I got to work instantly. I threw my bag to Dick and put my hands on Bruce. 

“I need you to stuff his wounds with gauze. I’m going to replenish his blood and then I need you to take the gauze out one by one, so when I heal him they aren’t inside him. Understand?” I asked as I let my powers take over. 

“I understand,” Dick said and got to work just as quickly as I did. That was before more shots rang out. Hitting the brick wall just above my head. 

“Fuck!” Dick yelled, grabbing his batoons. “They are closer now!”

I felt my body start to shake as I forced it to heal Bruce faster, “Who the fuck is ‘they?’’

“Black Mask’s men. They are shooting to kill,” Dick said, standing up and blocking me and Bruce from the new onset of bullets.

“Get down or I’ll have to heal you both!” I hissed at him. 

“I need to get them away from you guys,” and without a second word, Dick ran toward the bullets. 

“Dick! Don’t–” I knew he couldn’t hear my begging screams. My best bet was to heal Bruce as fast as possible, we both help Dick, and escape via my shitty car. 

I was close too. Bruce’s blood was replenished, and five out of his seven gunshot wounds were closed Albiet the work was sloppy, but he would live. 

That was before I felt the unmistakable coolness against the back of my head. My blood ran cold, and I pushed harder to heal Bruce faster. 

“Stop whatever it is you’re doing or I’m going to blow your brains out,” a man said. His voice was oddly distorted. 

I didn’t listen. I kept healing Bruce. Any minute now. Please. Please. He pressed the gun parallel to my cheek and fired. It burned hot against my face. I tasted metal and gunpowder. My ear was ringing louder than church bells. Hesitantly, I raised my hands. 

“That’s it. Be a good bitch and stand up,” He said, digging the barrel harder into the back of my skull. Fear spiked inside me. I knew he would recognize me, but what choice did I have? 

Slowly, I stood. 

“Turn around,” the brute ordered. 

Slowly, I turned. 

A low, mocking laugh escaped from his skull mask. “My, my. Little Miss Y/f/n? Everyone was wondering where you had run off to! Turns out your the Bats personal whore!” I saw his eyes trail me up and down. Disgusting oily unease filled inside me. “You have a woman’s body now.”

Anger surged, making my blood feel like it was boiling. I slowly unzipped my hoody. The fool's eyes were transfixed on the sight. So much so that he didn’t realize that I was grabbing my medical scissors from my back pocket. 

In one fluid motion, I grabbed the scissors, and the next I had them stabbed into Black Mask’s throat. Before he could react I withdrew the scissors, resulting in blood being sprayed across my body and face. 

The Black Mask didn’t seem to care about his spurting neck. He reached out and gripped my throat, hard. He ruthlessly squeezed until it felt like my lungs would pop and my eyes would pop out of their sockets. Weakly, I tried to kick and scratch him. He merely laughed in my face, spraying more blood all over me. 

From his pocket, he grabbed a knife. “You know how long I’ve wanted to play with you? Your father would never let me. But Daddy isn’t here, is he?” With a practiced grace, he sliced my forearm open. Earning a weak hissing breath of pain. 

He trailed the knife over my chest, slowly adding more and more pressure. 

I tried screaming for Dick, but he was too far away fighting with everything he had. Bruce was still unconscious. 

I reached for this throat, trying to scratch him. I dug my index finger into his stab wound making him cry out in pain and anger and release the pressure he held against my neck. Air was a sweet joy in my lungs. 

Pain flashed across my head as the Black Mask whipped me with the back of his gun. He pushed the gun into my mouth, and for the second time that night, I tasted gunpowder. 

A loud shot rang out. Two shots. Three. Four. Five. 

And the pressure was off me. The Black Mask fell backward. Taking his gun with him. Panicked I looked around for the source. 

There, standing above Bruce, was the Red Hood. The rain was tinking against the metal. His chest heaved harshly up and down. And in his hands, he held two smoking guns. His expression was carved in a permanent scowl, but everything about him radiated vengeance. 

The Black Mask groaned in pain. Without taking his eyes off me Jason shot until both magazines ran out. 

I was frozen in place. Jason walked over Bruce’s unconscious body toward me. 

“Why the fuck are you here?” He growled, taking me into his arms.

Taglist: @soundsfunbutno@killxz@morpheus-girl@redhood414@bungunz@conicoroahre@greenyofthegreens@taytaylala12 @theroyalmanatee @nym-0-s @sarahskywalker-amadala @bonesbonesetc @dreaming-of-the-reality @gone-batty-fics @thescarletcryptid @bakugosgf2005 @irregular-child @vythika96 @greenyofthegreens @mythicalmo @eccentricarabella-blog @princessbl0ss0m @ghostindeath @whirlwind2005 @the-lights-are-loud @00hellohello00 @tfygcdy @theblindhag @murkyponds @midnightecko @crookedmakerfury @cosmicqueenieb @deans-spinster-witch

If I missed anyone please let me know <3

Author's note: sorry for the late update guys, I wasn't feeling very confident in myself or my writing. I will try to update more frequently! thank you all for your support it means so much.

Hashbrown Cam!

[badnoahmens]

4am

Noah Sebastian x reader

A/N Do yourself a favour and watch this quick scene from the TV show ‘Dave’, it was the kind of thing I was going for, but just at a different time and place, and just less sad. Thanks!

4:07 am. The dim glow of the alarm clock illuminated the room just enough to make out silhouettes of the furniture. There was the low hum of the wind outside that was the soundtrack for this winter night. There was a chill in the air that made the thought of leaving the comfort of your bed seem almost impossible, but as you rolled to see the vacant spot next to you, you couldn’t help but wonder where Noah was.

Tentatively, you slip one foot, then another, from the cave of warmth you have created, and tip-toe lightly to the door that was slightly ajar. From around the corner you could see light, growing stronger the closer you walked down the hallway. As you turn the corner, you could hear a tune, being played repeatedly, over and over again. It would start, sometimes play for 10 or so seconds, before starting again. Each time it played there were slight changes to the pitch of a note, altered to best suit the melody being played.

A sigh escapes you as you know exactly what has happened. Once again, Noah, your boyfriend of 6 years, has allowed himself to be all-consumed by his music yet again, staying up until ungodly hours trying to perfect his craft. You step around the corner, seeing the profile of Noah, who looked like he was in a trance-state with eyes fixated on the screen, headphones adorned over his beanie with his hair poking out at the bottom. He was still dressed in the same clothes as the day before, a long-sleeve white t-shirt and a pair of black jogger pants, although now it looked like they were wearing him instead. He was slouched over, hands moving ever so slightly with the flick of the mouse or a stroke of the keyboard. Bags hung under his eyes, and his eyelids looked heavy. You could almost see the reflection of the screen and the colourful bars from Logic Pro X in his eyes, like he was hypnotised by it.

His hand raised and adjusted the headphones that were blocking out any sound other than his current project, long fingers grazing some of the buttons on the side and shifting them so they fit more comfortably. Without looking to his side, he reached over towards the door, closer towards you, as he hovered his hand in the air in search of what you assume was his guitar. You could see it, it’s long neck laying against the couch behind him. He still absentmindedly waved his hand trying to locate the guitar, but it also looked like he forgot what he was doing. His arm dropped with a slight thud to land on the desk next to him. When his arm retreated, he hung his head and rested it in one hand, the other slipping off the headphones and then joining to support his hidden face, now behind his palms, with elbows leaning on the desk and nudging the keyboard away from him.

You heard him huff, and decided you needed to step in, otherwise he would keep going until he dropped dead. With a very gentle step forward, you place a hand gently on his shoulder. He tilts his head up and you finally get to see his full face, and it was worse than you had thought. The poor man looked like the lights were out inside, but somehow he was just sleep-walking his way through this editing process. He hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in weeks, and this album was always on his mind. It made you wonder how it wasn’t making him go crazy, but then again, with what you saw in front of you, maybe he wasn’t far off. When he looked into your eyes he almost looked guilty, like he felt bad for what he was doing. You give him a small smile and walk closer, this time both hands snake their way around his chest as you stand behind him. You rest your chin on his shoulder and lean into him, and he does the same back to you. It was so comforting the way that he responded to your touch. Your hands interlocked over his shirt, and one of his hands came up to intertwine with yours. Still no words had been spoken, but you knew that he needed you there for just a moment.

“How is it sounding?” you ask, and he strains his neck to the side to look at you with a puzzled look on his face. You guess he was expecting you to be upset, or even mad at him, but how could you ever.

“Uh, I think this track is nearly done. I switched up some of the melody so now it has a panpipe, and have a listen to this harp track I put in…” his fingers flicked over the mouse again, and the colourful bars zipped past on the screen right back to the start of the song. He tapped the space bar, and leant back in his chair. As the tune began to play, you slipped around and sat atop his lap, swinging legs over the side of his chair and curling up onto his chest.

One of his hands held your back, and the other rested on top of your knees, tapping along with an imaginary click-track that you are sure was playing non-stop in his own mind.

It was a new song, one you hadn’t heard yet. You thought you had heard them all by this point, but this one took you by surprise. It was slower, more drawn out, and it took its time to build up and work through the first verse.

“I haven’t heard this one before” you whisper, as though not to interrupt the song playing.

“I only made it today,” Noah responded, a little sheepishly. “I’m sorry”.

“Did you really just apologise? For doing something you love? And maybe staying up a little late because you want it to be perfect?” you look at him with an eyebrow raised, hands knotted behind his neck.

“I’ve got an idea” he says, reaching over and grasping a second pair of headphones. He delicately places them on your head, tucking your hair back so that the headphones sit snugly. He picks up his own headphones again while skipping back to the beginning of the song. It starts delicately and quietly, and before the melody begins Noah starts speaking into his microphone.

“What if we add a little adlib to the start?” he spoke, and you saw the little bars indicating it was recording on the screen jump up and down.

You lean forward and reply, “what kind of thing are you thinking of?” It was a little startling hearing your own voice reverberated through the microphones, and you could pick up just the most subtle hint of a pitch corrector to make your voice sound more fluid.

“I don’t even know,” he said through a smile. His eyes were drooping, half closed and you could tell he had an idea but his brain wouldn’t let him process it.

“What if we just talk?” you say, starting to speak in a sing-songy voice. Noah starts the song again, and starts a new recording.

“You know that it’s 4am…. and you are here with me…” he spoke, elongating some words to match the tempo of the beat.

“No place I’d raaaath-er be” you sing, “but what is this soooong about?”

“Why don’t you fiiiind out,” Noah sings back. Somehow even in his state, at this hour, and even with just talking, he manages to hit perfect notes.

“Is it a haaaappy one?” you ask, still trying your best to not sound too forced, but when you were comparing yourself to Noah’s vocals, there wasn’t any chance of sounding good.

“It’s aaaabout us” he responded, “so it’s the best- song- I- have- done.” Drawing out the last part of his sentence, timing it perfectly with when the tune began to change.

You lean back into Noah’s chest, the headphones pushed against his chest distorting his shirt just enough so the tattoos on his chest were a little more exposed. He rested his cheek on the top of your head, almost nudging the band of the headphones with his nose.

As the two of you listen to the rest of the song, and you really started listening to the lyrics, you couldn’t help but smile and feel a warmth inside you grow beyond measure. It was a story being told, your story. The one of how you met, how Noah was so nervous to talk to you he actually avoided it. He had told you about this long after you started dating, and how he kicks himself now because of it. The story continues, describing his perspective of when you started spending more time together. He talks about the thoughts in his head, the doubts he believed, thinking he wasn’t good enough for you. There was even mention of the time where he let those thoughts win and you had to convince him otherwise.

It was a raw and rare insight into his mind, and what a beautiful and scary place it must be. Knowing only little of what he had been through before you met, you knew his trauma from his past still haunted him today, and you did everything in your power to try and keep those ghosts away.

You were caught up in your own thoughts while still listening to the song, in a little bit of disbelief at the sudden vulnerability he was willing to share with the world.

“That’s beautiful” you comment, wiping a tear away that you hadn’t realised had formed.

He lets out a half laugh and glances back at the screen, scrolling along through the tracking of the song. “It’s been a lot of work, but it’s getting there. It took me a long time to try and find the right words. Album number 4 has to be my best work yet” he comments. You know more than anyone that he is his own harshest critic, and the pressure he puts on himself is more than anything else you have witnessed.

“Do you think maybe, now with something new added, stepping away from it for a little while will help? Come back to it with a fresh view?” you ask, being very careful to choose which words don't sound demanding.

“Maybe you’re right” he commented, making a few more final clicks to ensure that his project was saved, before switching off the screen. A new and comforting darkness fell in the room, and you slowly stood up from Noah’s lap. He reaches up, and wraps his decorated hands in yours. You tug a little, and he listens, standing up next to you. You start to walk out of the room, and he blindly follows you, feet falling a little clumsily and you think he is starting to fall asleep standing up. You guide him back to the bedroom, pull the covers off and give him a gentle shove. He falls back and chuckles as he does, head hitting the pillow for the first time in a while. It wouldn’t be rare for him to just not come to bed some nights, sleeping on the couch that was in his studio, and sometimes even at the very desk you found him at.

As you walk around to your side of the bed and climb in, you can just make out the outline of his face. Your finger delicately traces the sides of his cheeks, down and across his chin, back up and along the bridge of his nose, and then your fingers intertwine with his hair, smoothing back some of the locks and pushing his beanie off his head. He was humming, enjoying the touch. It didn’t take long at all, less than 30 seconds, and his facial expressions relaxed, mouth hanging slightly ajar, and breathing pattern falling into a steady rhythm.

He fell asleep so quickly it made you think that if you hadn’t gone to him, he would have been there all night, either awake or with his head on the desk. You loved that he loved his work, that he was so passionate about what he did, but it came as a curse too. No one knew how hard he worked, no one knew how much his own judgements ruled his life. So you did everything in your power to help him, be by his side, there when he needed you, even if he didn’t even know it himself.

[rel124c41]

I FEEL SO WONDERFUL RIGHT NOW. THROUGHOUT HEAVEN AND EARTH, I ALONE AM THE HONORED ONE. vox

When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

tags: blood and injury, protectiveness, strippers & strip clubs, assassination attempt, fallen angels, morality ambiguity, blood and violence, developing relationship, unresolved romantic tension, romantic gestures

word count: 6,646

i. You are a dog.

Not in the physical presence. Your teeth were soft squares instead of cutting fangs. When you got happy, there was no tail to wag back and forth. In the placement of paws, you have two hands that experience a galaxy of motions and sensations. Truthfully, you are far more superior to a mortal canine. 

But here you are starting to learn that you could be a dog. In the not physical presence way. 

“Are there going to be schedules for when I must use the bathroom too?”

If you want to be a dog, the first lesson is to learn to wait. You must wait all day until he returns and if he is late, you must learn to wait longer. 

In a gliding stroke, you move your palm down to Vark’s first dorsal fin down to his second dorsal fin. Vark descends into dark water as you lift your wet hand out the tank. Droplets bleed off your fingernails and join back into the electronic blue. Is being a shark better than being a dog?

“Do you want an invitation? Because I feel if I did extend one to you, you would just refuse to go.”

“You cannot be so certain.”

“Why I certainly can, dear. I have actually calculated,” all electronics in the room besides his face start to spin in a rainbowing Wheel of Fortune circle and, after a beat, the three red numbers shine at you, 1, 0, 0, “that there is a hundred percent chance that you would have said no to an invitation.”

You blink your eyes which have not been closed in a long time. They burn and tear up like someone has squeezed lemon juice into them. Waterline soaking, you hum at his answer and press your cheek onto the edge of Vark’s tank.

“You cannot control where I go, Vox.”

“Come now, dear. No need to be so despondent. You would grow ill stepping into one of the sinner’s clubs. That is certain.”

“You are certain?”

“Wholly reassured. Or should I say holy? Another look at the statistics?” The rainbowing wheels start to move again.

“No, no,” you chuckle. You start piano-ing at the top of the water, hoping Vark or his hammerhead brother will come back up to the surface. Afterall, they will be your only company for the five, twelve, forty-three hours that Vox could possibly be gone. “I know that you’re right.”

“Then why the long face?”

Rearranging yourself, you finally look down from your platform. Piles of folders and paper cover the long conference table but the demon busies himself with a tablet. One claw slides and slides up the touch-screen, sometimes momentarily stopping to type something. 

The room is emptied of everyone but you two. This is how most of your time is spent in VoxTech tower — a room with only you and him. You have been in rooms with Valentino and Velvette momentarily but you are kept out of sight more often than not.

Perhaps, you reconsider, staring down at the demon, you are more caged dove rather than dog.

“I need to be out,” and you do actually pull your lips into that long face he mentioned, frowning delicately. “And I have been out before! So I see no reason that if I want to come, you restrain me from coming.” You behaved those times too: blending into the dark and simply observing as per Vox’s instructions, trying to figure out the reason for your question. 

A strip club. More importantly, Valentino’s strip club. It was an entirely new environment and perhaps your answer could be unearthed there. It was a zenith of sin. If you pulled back all the grimy skin and maneuvered the oil-black bones, you might find a heart within it.

Go where sin is. Find what you are lacking. 

You were still so unsure what those words meant. They scrambled your brain like an electric current and you cried over the instructions more than once. Given a command, you obeyed. Now here you are in Hell.

“Please.”

Vox is unmoved by the polite word. Manners are lacking in Pentagon City but that does not necessarily mean they are missed. Still enamored with his work, Vox tuts, “that isn’t going to work on me.”

“You know I could walk out of this tower right now.”

It was entirely the truth. You never lied – an old habit that stuck with you. There were no deals tethering to stay like a leash and no blackmail that could command you to sit like a biscuit shaped treat.

“Oh yeah, and where would you go?” Vox asks, still distracted.

“Lucifer.”

That works on him. 

His claw stops scrolling on his tablet. Applying the brakes to all his motions like a car when a child runs in front of it, Vox freezes at your words. You worry that the tablet might be broken in his grip. Underhanded tactics left a rotten taste on your tongue. You watch the flat-screened demon finally set down the tablet and look at you. Rewards are a palate cleanser though.

Gracefully, you stand up on your platform and start to descend. Irritated, Vox walks around the conference table and marches in your direction. “You wouldn’t daRE.” His voice breaks off into a hurricane of sparks and distorted frequency. “You wouldn’t risk it.” 

When you two collide like an actor and actress embracing on a stage or knuckles on the offending face in a punch, Vox pushes one of those blue claws to your sternum. Enough where it hurts. You hold your face as his panic translates into frustration. 

“Two hours. I stay in the shadows.”

“Thirty minutes. If I even see your face on one of my monitors, all of your privileges are revoked.”

“Two hours. I stay in the shadows; not a single camera or person will see me.”

All of his anger bubbles up and you watch it ripple over him in a single wave of static. When the tide is done, he negotiates, “An hour and thirty minutes. And I can get you some more of the boring sweets from Franklin’s and Rosie’s.”

“Normal, non-cannibalistic ones, you mean?”

“Yes, yes, that.”

How could you refuse such a treat? You smile a cryptic smile that Vox hates.

ii. You are a dog, but not a dog that protects. 

This caused people around you strife. What is a loyal dog unless it does not show its fangs and attack its owner’s offenders? You could not move your body to kill any soul and you do not think you ever will be able to. This morality clause ruined your first impression with both Valentino and Velvette. 

Which is why the limousine feels as cramped as a rat trap. 

Hands clenched on your thighs, you try to avoid eye contact at all times. Down, your eyes observe the tiny crescents cut deeply into your palms. You are butchering your skin like a manic secretary snapping a paper-puncher into overdue documents. Hunched over like you have been scolded, you do not even give a reaction when Valentino purposefully blows red smoke a whole 150 inches so it curls around your face and up into your hair. 

Accept and learn to swallow abuse. You only have to endure this another few miles then you can teleport into the club.

Right now, you try not to focus on the words Velvette had pierced at you before you and the trio entered the limousine: “Why are we bringing rubbish to this meeting? Vox, does your pet need to follow you everywhere?” Well, those words had not been the ones to cause you to wilt. Though the entire conversation was unpleasant.

Timidly, you shifted your weight. The chauffeur was of similar deposition as you, head bent down and one hand opening the door, he too shifted his weight uneasily. He probably moved more out of restive than worry. 

“Velvette, did we not all agree that they can come and go as they please?”

The red-haired woman shimmers at the reminder. In the beginning, she advocated for tying you down with a contract, making you truly palpable to any of their whims. She shoves the shoulder of Vox and snaps her teeth in his face. “Yeah, but not on a big night like this.

“We’re making our footing as the Vees. You’re being interviewed by Katie Killjoy tonight. Valentino is debuting that spider pornstar on stage. This is a heavy social media hitter tonight. Are you really jeopardizing that so they can play Sherlock fucking Holmes?”

You would admire her for advocating for what she wants, if it did not affect your plans. 

“I have to agree. A night like this would be busy. We will not be able to keep an eye on our little angel.” Valentino flirts his teeth at you in a rising smile. You shuffle your eyes back to the pavement. Why cannot they have this conversation in the limousine – you cannot enter unless the three overlords entered first.

At the mention of that forbidden word, Vox points at a claw up at Valentino’s face. “If they want to come, they can. Can you name one incident where they have jeopardized anything?” He turns his eyes towards Velvette, challenging her in addition.

A pregnant pause hangs in the air, the two trying to rack their memory. When they turn up empty, Vox whirls on his feet in a burst of New Year's sparkling energy. “See. Trust in me.” He moves into the space that you and the chauffeur have made by the door. Not once offering you a look of acknowledgement. 

Still Velvette wants to make her displeasure known.

“They won’t protect us if something goes wrong. We provide them with protection and get what in return? Nothing?” Finally they all start piling into the limousine, a dance of limbs ending in claws and delicate legs. Demons do truly move like oil sliding into water. “There isn’t even a contract in place to ensure they won’t act out.” 

This is a complaint you have heard numerous times before. You enter last, head bowed.

Contracts, contracts, contracts. The most saccharine that any of the three Vs had been around you was when trying to rope you into a contract. Hand-feed fruits like blueberries and kiwi slices, caressed in four arms in a lover, or dissected apart by sweet nicknames. Those failures of seduction always made you amused because they repeatedly did them. Did they really think that you would fall into temptation or indulgence? 

All the gilded splendor of their offers were proven to be rusted as you already knew they all collectively wanted you on a leash. You earned trust by being benevolent. Yet, their complete faith you will never have. Honestly, you doubt the trio fully trusted each other. 

Always ready to backstab. What a sad environment to live in. The phantom pain on your spine grows heavy and itchy. Grateful that everyone has climbed into the car, you take a seat. You sit behind the divider between you and the chauffeur. A position where all three of them could keep an eye on you. Valentino takes the opposing head of the limousine, directly across you with Vox on the right and Velvette on the left. Twin cat demons slink into Valentino’s lap and an incubus throws his arm over Velvette’s shoulder. A bunny demon leans her weight into Vox’s side.

“They’re obedient, not protective,” he reminds Velvette. “We place faith in them to eventually pay our numerous favors in turn while providing exceptional protection. Think back to when we were human and put trust in people. Try to resurrect that part of you.”

Velvette huffs and steam floods out her nose. Having seemingly lost the argument, she begins to turn her attention to her phone. Merciless in her preparation for this night. The Vees are still newborn fawns in a pasture of grown deer. This is a critical stepping stone.

That was multiple turns and roads ago. Now you are waiting and waiting to arrive at the club. Valentino had already sent the tallest twin to lounge against you. All so he had a show of you squirming in discomfort. Then, Vox grew agitated and sent an electric current through the bunny demon’s ear; she too sandwiched your other side, not out provocation but protection. Not that you would protect her. So you sit like a taunt ball, fingers clenching and just wanting to teleport away.

You yank your neck away when the yellow-furred cat starts to press kisses across the thin covered larynx, afraid the taste of your skin will burn her tongue. You expect no one to say anything until –

“Valentino, call back your cat,” Vox snaps, hyperfocused on his phone. 

“Oh come now, they don’t mind~”Valentino grins slyly at you. “You don’t, right, love?” He forces a tiny pout as if your rejection of the cat demon’s affection will break his heart.

Vox sighs out in a fizzling tone. Still not looking up from his device, he instructs, “(Name), go on ahead. Remember to avoid people but cameras especially.” You do not need to be told twice, grateful for the escape. You straighten up and try to gauge the distance from the club along with a location free of people or cameras. Following the thread of allure, you think you finally find a spot until Vox interrupts.

“And (Name).”

“Yes?” You do not why but you think he sounds like he will wish you good luck.

“Only an hour and thirty minutes.”

“Of course,” your physical form disappears in a clap of gold light. Where leather had hugged the back of your spine, you fall into the embrace of sheets. Hair billows around and under you. The embrace of those two women were gone. Pink light finds you alone and lays itself over like a lover. Staring up at the ceiling, you murmur your reminder and last connection to your old life, “Find what you are lacking.” 

iii. You are a dog. You were once a stray though.

When you arrived in Hell, like everyone else, you had no home to call your own. There was no benevolent greeting man to guide and explain this discord and its system. You were equipped with nothing, bare-backed and face streaked with grime. Thrown into the den of lions, you would have to figure it out by yourself. 

You figured out one thing early on: the type of dog you were was not coveted. Standing in the middle of reds and blacks, your wide eyes watch as one then two then three citizens of Pentagon City peeled their sticker-like selves off the background of this unknown place and raced towards you, trying to kill you.

You ran until the bones in your throat hugged the last bit of oxygen out of you. Spent, you crashed into an alleyway and slept. Tomorrow, you will search like you were instructed to, tomorrow.

News spread quickly: an unknown angelic presence had fallen into Pentagon City. Not an exorcist angel – that was certain as they (you) were unarmed. Even without wings, witnesses had testified repeatedly that it was an angel that had landed. Stable on their feet, witnesses said, unlike how sinners collapsed like unwinged bugs to the brimstone below. An undeniable presence of holiness leaking from their pores. It was an angel, flightless and apparently defenseless too. Pentagon City had never been abuzz with such intense excitement before.

It made sense that the one who would find this angel would be an overlord with eyes on every street of Pentagon City, through every camera, television screen, and pinged cell-phone. 

It made no sense that this overlord would offer you a place of sanctuary when you offered nothing in return.

It made no sense that this overlord would not immediately harm or sell you out to Lucifer.

It made no sense that this overlord would look upon you so kindly.

iv. You are a dog. 

You bite.

A dog eventually does bite when provoked. In the past, under heavenly orders, you easily and proudly crunched your teeth into those who had made God upset. Being untethered to God now, you had forcibly put yourself on a muzzle. A dog must learn to act only when given orders.

This though, you agonize, sliding down from the bed, has been an awful time without orders. Sad eyes glance around the empty bedroom. You had been given an order long ago and clenched it to your heart like an asthmatic with their inhaler. At least you knew you were behaving when you were searching – which is why you glance forlorn at the room.

The bed is covered in billowing pink and white sheets, frills and all. A heart-shaped bed-frame rises up and kisses the wall. The only other object is a bare nightstand with three drawers. Should those be searched? You are starting to figure out the reason for this odd bedroom when you glance at the hued lighting of delicate crimson. 

You trail one finger on the hopefully clean blanket and start to kill the angelic presence inside of you. Flickers of it usually came when you teleported so you had to do this first and foremost.

All species released a susurrating aura of human, angelic, or demonic energy. The stronger the individual, the more consistent and powerful this spiritual humming was. In Hell, you had to learn to bottle the raging riptides of yourself until the point where you felt you could fall into comatose. Snuffing that angelic presence felt like killing yourself, lowering your heartbeat to a lethal turtle pace.

Oh, how you hated being here. Perhaps you should not have bargained when the four angels came to –

The door clicks open. You jolt and turn towards it. Laughter dies down in a trickle as you all observe and gauge each other. Two demons – one male and one female, leaning amorously into each other. You make no move to move until the male says, “Ha, two for the price of one. Looks like I picked the right room. Lucky me.” 

Your feet have never carried yourself faster before. My apologies “I was just rearranging the room for you. I’m not part of the entertainment.” You might not be hellborn or a sinner, but your naivety has long since vanished away, thanks to Vox’s guidance. “Enjoy the service,” you sing and try to slip past the pair.

“Now, now, surely I can have –” the hand going to touch you is drawn back, fingertips smoldering. 

You reel back in your angelic presence, thankfully slipping past them. You are entering a labyrinth with cameras but it is entirely better than staying in a wine room? Champagne room? Agh, whatever Valentino called them. “Enjoy the service,” a cryptic and gentle smile pulls up your lips. 

In an instant, you contort yourself to disappear into the shadows. 

To be frank, you had been searching endlessly for what God deemed you were lacking. The specifics were so hard to nail down. Emotionally, physically, mentally, monetary, company, etcetera. Was a spiritual deficiency your ailment? God had peered at you and noticed a hole.

In one frenzied night, you shoveled holes all around the outside premise of VoxTech’s tower. You dug into the dirt and tried to unground the roots of your miserable brain. Vox took your soil hands, wiped them down with a wet rag, and then employed Public Relations to cover up the incident before someone gossiped about the enigmatic holes. Another day, you ventured into Cannibal Colony on your lonesome to dissect the organs laid upon the streets, feverish in your efforts. When you did succumb to an actual fever, Vox brought medicinal products to you.

The point was, you had been trying for a very long time to find what you were lacking. Success was not coming easily. As you snake through foggy ropes of cigarette smoke and tunnel past barely dressed sinners, you worry that you might never find what you need to reconnect with God.

Condemnation had enshrouded you for quite some time. 

You dodge a security camera in the ceiling and continue on your route. 

The outline rules of tonight are that no cameras or people must interact with you. Or at least to avoid interaction with a person beyond the time where they might be able to remember the characteristics of your clothes or the shape of your features. Shifting into a darkened corner of the bar, you decide you could safely spend thirty minutes here before relocating. 

Do not order anything that is attention-catching, not too suspiciously bland or suspiciously expensive. (How well behaved you are.) You order a margarita and shift your attention towards the stage.

The horns on the gazelle-mimicking demon are gorgeous. The black ridges swooped elegantly and curled like a handcrafted blown glass-piece. Fragments of magenta light cover them. When she pirouettes, amethyst jumps to join magenta. When she dips her body, amber crawls sleepily into the raised bits of the black horns. It is a magnetizing sight that no other sinner seems to be appreciating.

Your original animosity towards sinful things had withered after such long exposure. You could not keep prejudice close to your heart forever. Beauty was in all of the created and fabricated world, you learned that it could even be found down below. 

Admiring art did not bring back your angelic status. 

You sit admiring the dancers that come and go. As they strip down to bras or boxers, you take measured sips of your margarita – not too fast nor too slow. 

Around the time you order a second one, the Vees have arrived into the club. Silently, you watch the three trickle in. Valentino strides in first with that newly contracted spider-mimicking demon on his arm. Yet in front of all of them is the cameraman of Katire Killjoy, walking backwards as the crowd parts for its sinful Wise Men. Animatedly, Killjoy is walking side by side with Valentino, lips rapid in their motions and waving her microphone, flanked by Velvette and Vox.

You squeeze your lime into the clear liquid, observing.

They move like this: in the heart of the club, talking and positioned to stand in front of the stage; towards the bar as the spider demon poses for the camera; Killjoy moves onto Vox and their interview starts; they walk down the center of the club again, and then still talking, all six (the Vees, Valentino’s new contractee, Killjoy, and her cameraman) spill into a VIP room, out of sight.

It has been thirty minutes. You leave money on the bartop and find another shadow to cloak yourself in. Avoiding cameras is a difficult task when Vox puts them on almost every inch of the places he is affiliated with. Grace is an angelic trait so you manage well enough for another thirty minutes. 

An anonymous and fleeting face to all who see you and invisible to the security footage always. When an hour has arrived, you decide to check in the VIP for what you are lacking. You snake past the bull-mimicking guards and find a corner to evanesce into. 

Shadows are comforting like enshrouding wings. They blanket your skin and sleep on top of you lightly. You lose yourself in the comfort until – huh? A gunshot – those were normal in Hell but why so incredibly close?

“Vox!”

“Fucking shit!”

“Shit shit shit!”

Your eyes snap towards the cacophony. The scene bleeds into your eyes. Where Velvette and Valentino once lounged lazily on the leather couch, they lean forward with more curses falling off their lips. Pink spider demon reels back though on his seat, one leg up as if judging if he should bolt. Katie Killjoy is in the same pose, leaning back as her cameraman freezes. She stands across from Vox – Vox – Vox –

His screen is shattered. A piercing of black lodged into the bottom right corner of his screen. Something you can visibly see through. Spindly branches of cracks drift up his face to shock eyes. A few dark, lifeless fragments fall into his open right hand. 

The assassin who shot him moves out of his own shadow and darts between Katie Killjoy and her cameraman. Imp, hellborn, relatively short but was obviously making up for it with speed. He raises his gun.

Your heart spikes. Your orders! What were your orders in a situation like this – Stay in the shadows. Stay in the shadows. Stay in the – you peel yourself off the wall like a sticker and teleport towards your G – towards Vox. It is instinctual and that worries you. The past turtle tempo of your heart crescendos. You explode into the scene with a bright gold clap.

When you arrive in the middle of the duel assassinaton attempt and interview, you are crouched on the ground, one hand pulled to the back of your spine, grasping at nothing. 

The room's atmosphere twitches and explodes. 

You had released too much of yourself and burnt half of the assassin’s face. Spiderwebs of charred flesh crawling across the left as blood leaks heavily through the cracks like a molten cake. His expression is stricken, arms wildly failing as he reels back from what had burnt him. No one has truly computed you in their mind besides Vox. Even though snowflake holes are starting to burn into the skin of Katie Killjoy and the cameraman, Vox is stunned instead of harmed. He knows that it is you he is staring down at but he cannot find it in himself to believe it.

At least, until he sees that cryptic, gentle smile on your face pointed towards the assassin, and with a panic snap of his fingers, Vox kills every electronic in Valentino’s club. 

It all moves as slow as your usual subdued heart. A symphony of glass breaking rains over the air. The camera explodes into blue bursts, happy gold fireworks snow down from the ceiling as lightbulbs pop one by one, cell-phones hum and die into blackening coal. Night colors the stage in an instant. Shrieks splatter the messy painting. 

You feel God in your ribcage, beating happily into your sternum. Your heart swells in its pace. Your soul pushes and pushes, reaching until you finally are able to grasp it.

In the nebulous, indistinguishable black, a glowing gold, pointed oval leaf lights up the scene. In a rapid move, the gold drags itself through black in one broad, crescent stroke. Losing its form and turning into a racing comet of light. As quickly as it came, it leaves. 

Hand emptied of your spear, you reach out into the black and put two fingers into the new mouth you have just ripped open in the demon’s throat. The squish of his larynx and torn muscles are warm. Like sticking your finger into a fresh loaf of bread, pleasant and heavenly. In a static current, you send yourself – the essence of your soul – into the bleeding cavern and the assassin dies. 

Flesh, bone, and skin explode in one quick burst. You leave no evidence of his existence. Incinerating him down into the ground until nothing remains but a black, smoking spill on the wood where your presence accidentally burned. 

Softly, as if dazed or sleepy, you blink open your eyes. They water gently and you blink out the burn. Hm? Father? You stumble on your feet and turn, open-mouthed from your heavy breaths, to stare at the only light source available: the monitor of Vox’s face, where he is in a similar stupor as you.

You have been with them (him, after he picked you up from the streets) for three years, eight months, and fifteen days. Not once in that expanding time had you acted out in a hostile manner. 

Croaking, you question the man, ““V̴̥͔̠̠̺̲͕͓̓ͅő̴̤̗̪͈̥̲͕̝̣͙x̷̡͍̳͕͖̙͓̭̖̩̺̞̀̓͛͋̔̕?” 

v. You are a dog. Your owner means everything to you.

Your previous owner was your Father before … before you had started to lack something. Never once did you question him. Never once did you disobey him. Never once did you have the audacity to suggest anything to him. Unlike your younger sister Sera who once openly suggested the exterminations and your older brother Lucifer who once openly suggested giving humans free will, you remained tight lipped and docile. Gabriel begged for you to propose anything – even a new species of insect for the human world.

“Start out small, insignificant. Something that won’t even cause a ripple. Please, just suggest something for this meeting; we’re worried about you.”

You did not see your ideas as mediocre rather as unnecessary ideas. As a council member, you should have openly expressed yourself but your tongue blocked your words like heavy metal bars. You saw no reason to bark, just to listen and obey.

And this saddened your Father, enough where he sent four of your brothers and sisters to – Suddenly, you stumble in both your thinking and footing, falling into bed with Vox. 

The flat-screened man groans under you, a shaken bundle of pained frequencies of varying pitches. His screen flashes an error screen and you wince in sympathy. Wildly, you search the ground for what you tripped on. With a shake, you manage to detach yourself from the tangled net of leather straps of a BDSM bondage top. Ugh, why is this the only room without cameras and devices?

With haste, you turn back to Vox who you had quickly dragged away from before Katie Killjoy could press you for questions. His breathing is glitched and uneven. His eyes are pinched in pain which worries you. Chest to chest, you lean over him and dig your hands nervously into pink and white billowing sheets by his monitor. 

“Vox? Vox?” You hesitate on shaking him because you would rather not be striked in the face. But he grew so quiet and cold when you grabbed his hand and a worm named worry is squirming around in the apple core of your stomach. “Vox? Are you okay? Answer me please.”

A dog is useless without its owner.

Gripping the sheets tighter, you rattle them and plead, “Vox, do I need to call an ambulance? Do you want Valentino or Velvette here?”

“Don’t … Don’t let either of th-th-those fuckers see me right no-ow.”

The worm in your stomach stops writhing around at the sound of his glitched yet alive voice. With a sigh of relief, you push your lips into a tight smile. “Copy that.” You are grateful that Vox is finally starting to open his eyes. It takes a few blinks until neon blue pupils are locked onto you. Your gratefulness is ripped apart when he springs up and shouts. 

“Get off me!”

Obeying, you fall off the bed. It is an entirely innocent position to you as you really have no sexual desire written in your code. To Vox however … you leaning over him, hands pinning him on both sides, and then to add whip cream to the shit-sundea, you had a knee up on the bed and your crotch resting on his leg … you sent an entirely different message into his hard-drive of a brain. Seeing the disgust in his eyes, you fall back at least two feet from him.

You two rest in ballooning silence, afraid to break it. Guilt twists your hands in painful circles. The technologized demon groans as he starts to slide up into the bed, rising up. He scans the champagne room you had brought him into and then intelligently moves to slide off the bed. 

He stumbles and his screen flashes a worrying rainbow. With a yelp, you run forward and gently push him back to his feet when his knees give in. This time you will have to disobey and refuse to let him go. You tightly grip on his left arm and scan him over.

The crack on his screen is Worry Central for you. You have yet to see an overlord injured and Vox being the first one leaves an unpleasant feeling on your tongue. That must be your angelic roots, your sympathy is a bottomless bottle that can make rivers into lakes into oceans. Softly, you stare at him as he stares back guarded. 

“You never answered my question.”

“You threw so many at me.”

“Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

“An ambulance will attract the media’s attention. You were smart to get my attention to shut down the cameras. Someone will be able to fix me up at VoxTech.”

“But are you okay,” you press, frowning. 

“I’m fine.” His claws are tightly gripping your arm as if he is afraid you will slip through like sand. You can feel that electric pulse of his dead heart and you see the nervous white flickers breaking off the top of his antennas. 

“I am a seraphim,” you confess. You wince at your wording momentarily, “Was a seraphim. I know that you, Velvette, and Valentino had placed bets … though that was three years ago … on which type of angel I used to be. So, whoever said ‘seraphim’, um, congrats.” 

His claws relax. The needle pokes he had drawn into your flesh start to paint five, delicate, cherry colored tears down your arm. You ignore the flame of pain to gently smile at him.

“Fuck, I had thought dominion angel.”

“H-Had you?” You laugh, smile growing.

“Yeah, can we just say you are dominion if they ever ask you. There was a lot of money and contracts riding on that bet.”

“Yeah, I’ll say dominion instead of seraphim.”

“Thank you.”

You are so shocked that Vox would use any manners that you accidentally rip yourself away from him. Oh, that is not good, you realize, watching the smile you had just gotten to grow delete itself off his monitor. Simultaneously, his body also seems to jolt away from you. Floundering, you say, “Sorry, I–.” You just effectively crushed that entire milestone. 

There is a deep desperation in you to regain that short-lived kindness from Vox. He was kind sometimes. It was as rare and as brief as a shooting star.

“No, it’s fine.”

Vox banishes the atmosphere with a wave of his hand. His dismissal hurts. You blink as an awful thought dawns on you, had you been imprinting on him? Did his approval start to mean something along the way? Before you can chase the idea, he starts towards the door, a self-assured voice returning, “Well, I got a mess to clean up. The head of Public Relations will need to be called if Velvette hasn’t already done it. Ugh, that bitch Killjoy is going to be such a headache. Hypnotism should be easy though … cunt always on her phone.” He grasps the doorknob. “And Valentino’s going to bitch about the lights and those fucking tacky carpets. What a mess. Assassin should've been better at his goddamn job. And –” his voice scratches and he suddenly turns around, the blue outlined eye growing in size “-- and you’re a seraphim.”

You jump at the static in his voice. The back of your thighs met the disorganized sheets of the sex-scented bed. Should you have kept that secret – he is an overlord of Hell – that type of information is valuable even if you were a fallen seraphim – what was he going to use it for – what would he be doing with you now – is this !

“That makes Lucifer your brother?”

Should you call it off? After three years of companionship, was this the moment where you needed to run? 

“Yes.”

“Then, haven’t you gone to him? Wouldn’t he – do you think he would kill you?”

Firmly, you shake your head. “My brother and I were close. If I was to go there, I am sure that I would be provided a home but –” You had considered leaving before but – “but if I were to live with him, he would shelter me away from Hell. I was told to find something here by our Father. I need to find that before I return to Heaven.”

This Vox knew. This Valentino and Velvette knew. You were ‘sent’ to Hell to find something that you lacked. Velvette had joked a fun personality was what you were missing and Valentino had hypothesized that you were lacking a proper sex life. Vox never guessed though, thinking it boring.

None of them had faith that you would actually be returning to Heaven.

You still dream of it vividly: the day of your voluntary fall from Heaven. 

Four of your siblings were sent to severe your soul from God and end your life. Originally, even you were under the impression that you would accept it without resistance. You were a good dog. You had kneeled and accepted the order. When Sera had brought down at her claymore to cut your head from your body, instinctual will pulled you to teleport away from the swinging blade. You never expected it and neither did the four of your siblings.

To think you had a stronger will to live than to obey your Father brought you close to hysterical sobs.

With that boiling sensation under your skin, the sting of holding back tears inflaming your nose, you cut down all four of the seraphims sent to kill you. Into their red stomach, your blade had fallen and sliced. Never deep enough to kill but immobilize. You darted, leapt, swung under, jumped above, and all around danced in a hurricane of blades and thumping angelic power. Not one hit landed on your skin.

Upset that you were acting out, you stood in the aftermath and cried, “Father, how can I make you forgive me!”

“Go where sin is. Find what you are lacking, (Name).”

Cutting all six wings over your back was agonizing but it was no worse than hearing your poor little sister Sera, caterwauling after you, your name mournful on her lips as you voluntarily fell into Hell. And the closest you had felt to Heaven after three years of living in Hell was when you killed that demon this afternoon. To protect –

You risk a glance at Vox as he stares at you as if he is seeing you for the first time. “I – I just need to find what my Father said I was lacking. Lucifer would want me to stay though. I do not hold any hard feelings for my older brother and would go to him if I had to.”

“And you haven’t gone to him yet? After everything?” He talks like you are mentally impaired, disbelief surfing in his static. 

You understand what he is referring to – the abuse from Velvette and Valentino, the underhand tactics to get you roped into a contract, and the hatefulness of Vox. All of it really should have repelled you away. You should have been gone from the Vees’ resisting grip before it had driven you to kill someone, hellish or not. Though, you did kill someone for someone.

With a gentle, angelic, almost cryptic smile that only seraphims are capable of, you say, “I happen to enjoy the company I keep.”

Vox short-circuits with a grumble, appalled at the very idea of you and your inane ways. You close in towards him. He turns his face down, running a clawed hand across it. Offering up the hand that he had previously pierced, you say, “And why have I not been banished? After everything?”

He does not take your hand, staring at it incredulously, and replies, “The company … yours is exceptionally less awful than Velvette’s or Valentino’s.” He lifts up his face, red hovering over a bluish-gray screen. Anger or embarrassment probably. “Though it is troublesome.”

When he walks out the champagne room to fix the numerous plights of the night, you follow, faithful and obedient. 

[ericsprincess]

i can't stop for you and me

nc-17, Sung Hanbin/Reader, office au, lawyer!reader, also bully!reader (kinda), doormat!Hanbin, cunnilingus

~~~

A/N: Reparations ;) This is a gift for a friend. I'm not a ZB1 fan and I don't know them well, so I hope it’s at least a little bit of a fitting scenario for Hanbin.

~~~

Fucking CUTE. You think while spinning your pen between your fingers. You’re sitting behind your big wooden desk, peeking over the dossier that you’ve been pretending to read for the past 15 minutes, your eyes scanning through the office in front of you, until they find your favorite target - your new pretty assistant, Hanbin. 

To be honest, he’s not even doing anything particularly cute, he’s quite literally just doing his job, staring into a computer screen and typing occasionally. He’s that pretty and adorable just by existing, with his delicate porcelain doll face and black hair.

I should have hired that old lady, you lament, but you know it’s bullshit. You knew you’re gonna give him a job offer the moment he walked into the meeting room for his interview, all fresh from school and excited to start his career. He looked so proper and polite, thoughtfully answering every question, even daring to blush and sweat under your scrutiny. You took one brief look at his CV to check if he’s qualified enough, and he was. There might have been better, more experienced candidates, but you decided to do this thing for you, just this once. Treat yourself. 

And now it’s coming back at you in full force. 

This is not good. This is a problem. His presence makes you feel things and all of them are inappropriate at the very least. 

It’s not helping that he would obviously bend over backwards to make you happy. You don’t even need to finish the question and he’s already eagerly rushing to complete whatever unnecessary task you made up this time. No request is dumb enough for him to object, and you actually tried. He would just happily go about his way to fulfill it. You could send him to sort cases by alphabetical order backwards and he would just ask when it’s supposed to be done. Sometimes you like to ruffle his feathers a little more by giving him work that he’s clearly not ready for, like that one time where you made him give a presentation to your client instead of yourself. You actually thought he’s going to faint, but somehow he powered through it just by sheer determination, earning an approving smile and nod from you, going all red in reply. 

Not to say that thanks to his good looks he solved your perpetual problem of missing partner at every work function and dumb dinner party with clients. Now you get to drag your handsome assistant along as your plus one to every event, where you can not only parade him around, but also enjoy him fussing over your comfort, bringing you drinks, holding your coat or bag and even driving you home. You can see the jealousy in others and it makes you secretly happy. 

You wouldn’t be able to do that, if you hired that old lady. 

And even today, despite being already long past his shift, he still decided to stay working late, just because you did. The office is already empty and dark, the only sole source of light shining on his face is his computer screen in his cubicle and the light coming out of your glass walled office. 

He rubs his eyes. 

You slap the dossier down on your desk.

“Hanbin-sshi, can you please come here for a second?” you call out. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he immediately replies and gets up. He’s sluggish and obviously tired and you almost feel bad for him. Almost. 

“Can I help you with anything?” he asks. 

“Yes. I would like you to run to the Starbucks, I want some coffee. I’d like a venti pumpkin spice latte-” you pause, seeing as he’s struggling to fish out his phone to take notes. “with four shots of espresso, almond milk, light caramel drizzle, light foam, one pump of pumpkin sauce, one pump of maple pecan sauce and salt topping. Thank you.” you smirk at him as he’s dutifully tapping everything down. 

“No problem, I’ll be right back, ma’am,” he bows a little and rushes out of the door. 

Your stomach rumbles. Actually. 

“Actually!” you call out, but he doesn’t reply. You jump out from behind your table in hope of maybe being able to catch him, but when you run out of the office you can see he’s already left.

Oh well. Maybe I’ll just send him for the second time, when he gets back. 

You turn back to return to your office, when his computer pings with a message. 

Huh? He didn’t lock his computer? 

You take a look, and really - he didn’t. He must have forgotten or just didn’t care, since no one else is left at the office at this time.

Moreover, the message is not from your designated work chat app, but from a personal one. You lean forwards to take a look at the unread notification. 

matt says: so how’s the late hours with the sexy boss going? dude you’re a masochist. 

You blink. Without any hesitation you click on the chat and scroll through the last messages. 

hb says: fuck it's getting really hard to hide my boners from her

>every time she orders me around i can barely think

>i just go home and jerk off everyday thinking about her bossing me around

>if she ever finds out im screwed

>i literally stayed working late, just in case she wants something

>she could ask me to eat her pussy under her desk and i would just crawl under 

>matt i’m so fucked

Your reflection on the computer screen twists into a wide grin. Oh. What a beautiful bunch of revelations. 

You had a hunch that he must like taking orders and feeling accomplished by completing tasks, but you didn’t know it’s sexual for him. Much less, that it’s because of you, in particular. But hey, at least it validates your own interests in this little game. 

You do your best to curb your giddiness and return back behind your desk. Hanbin appears a few minutes later, with your coffee in hand and a little bag in another. 

“Here, ma’am. I also took the liberty to bring you some snack, since it’s really late and you must be hungry.” he hands you both. 

You open the little back and pull out a blueberry muffin. “Thank you, Hanbin-sshi,” you take a bite. “It’s like you’re reading my mind. I hope I’m not putting you through too much trouble.” 

“Oh, no, really, it’s not a problem,” he’s quick to assure you, shaking his head. 

“Hanbin-sshi, it’s such a joy to have you. You’re always so eager and helpful, I could not pick a better assistant,” you smile kindly at him. 

“T-thanks, ma’am, this really means a lot to me.” he stutters, cheeks already burning red. 

“Sometimes it feels like I could ask you to eat my pussy under my desk, and you would just crawl right under, wouldn’t you?” you ask with a smirk.

He freezes. Gotcha.

“I-..”

“You?”

“I- I actually, I would,” he admits. He looks nervous, like he's sure he’s busted, outed as a pervert and will be fired immediately. It looks good on him.

“Okay,” you nod and push yourself off your desk on your chair. You gesture at the space. “Be my guest.”

He looks at you disbelievingly, as if he’s not sure if you’re serious or if it’s just some kind of a prank. But eventually, he seems to make up his mind. 

He slowly falls on his knees. He looks at you, as if to check whether it is really something you want, and when he sees you’re not putting a stop to it, he slowly crawls on his all fours under your big desk. 

You roll your chair back to its place. You look down, where two big eyes are staring right back at you. 

“I hope it were not just empty words, Hanbin-sshi. I’m sure you don’t want to disappoint me,” you warn him. 

“No, of course not, ma’am,” he hurries to assure you and visibly gathers all the courage to actually touch you. He runs his hands over your legs and leans forwards. 

He starts kissing your thighs, while bunching your skirt up, even daring to suck and lick a little at your skin. He slowly gets to your pussy and he doesn’t hesitate to lick over your panties, already wet ever since you discovered his true feelings. It’s like he’s trying to get as much of your taste as he can through them, licking until they are completely drenched with both your juices and his saliva. He’s kneeling in front of you, holding you around your hips, his whole face buried in your crotch, like he doesn't care if he can even breathe. 

It feels good and you’re getting more and more aroused, but you can’t wait for a more direct stimulation. You grab him by his hair and pull him off you by force. You quickly lift yourself up to pull down your panties, and he frantically helps, even tries to dive back in, but your hold won’t let him. 

You look into his eyes and wait a second until he calms down a bit, while he whimpers. He’s all red and clearly aroused and he looks so pretty, you’re sure you will never forget this sight of his delicate face, eager to pleasure you. 

“Now you can,” you say and let go of his hair. He doesn’t hesitate a moment and quickly leans forwards to get back your pussy. 

It feels like his tongue is everywhere. He’s licking all over your pussy and trying to push his tongue in. You have half a mind to tell him to use his fingers, but his tongue already feels so good, you want to see if he will manage to make you cum only like that. 

And it seems he will, since when he moves to your clit, it’s basically game over for you. 

He’s clearly bringing out his A-game, rubbing all over your clit with flat tongue in cruel tempo, building up your pleasure, until he can tell you’re getting close, then switching to quicker flicks, his mouth sealed around your pussy as if he was making out with it. 

You’re getting close and you know he can tell, just by the sounds you’re making. You’re so wet it must be dripping off his face. He’s tireless, his tongue never stopping, he’s even moaning a little, as if it was him being pleasured.

You grab him by his hair and push him even closer and then you’re cumming, smothering him with your pussy and juices and not letting him breathe at all, not until you’re finished. He’s not fighting it, letting you ride his face as much as you need, slowly coming down from your orgasm. 

You let him go, and he takes a deep breath. He looks up at you.

You roll your chair back a little. You take a moment to enjoy the look at him all out of his mind, kneeling under your desk, red, sweaty and disheveled. He’s breathing heavily, aroused and undeniably close to orgasm, without even touching himself.  

“Are you hard, Hanbin-sshi?” you ask. 

It’s a stupid question, his cock is obviously tenting his pants, even leaving a dark wet spot on them. But he nods regardless, eyes glazed over, face still wet. His black hair is sticking to his face a little.

“If you manage to drive us to my apartment without either crashing or cumming, I’ll suck you off. What do you think about that?”

You can see his breath hitching. He doesn’t even need to answer. 

“Go get your coat.”