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chiwhorei · 3 years

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gun bunny

pairing: mafia!s. aizawa x fem!reader

genre: mafia!au, quirkless!au, smut- 18+ minors dni

word count: 2.5k

warning: somnophilia, voyeurism, violence, attempted kidnapping, attempted assault, mentions of blood, mentions of guns and knives, degradation, age-gap (reader is 19 and aizawa is 31), spitting

a/n: hello! this is my contribution to the smut pile mafia!server collab, this is both my first smut pile collab (this is so late i am so sorry sksksksk) and my first full-length bnha piece, be sure to check out everyone else’s amazing work here! thank you to @10millionyearsdungeon and @messwriting for your constant support while i trudged through sad pal hours for a fucking month and crawled out of the pits of writer’s block

hymns: hayloft by - mother mother, i’m on fire - awolnation cover

Blood pours over decades like syrup, the tinny-sweet smell was distinct but all too familiar. A muffled gun’s buzzing frames 19 years of life. The barrel feels cool, sitting precariously by the highest angle of your cheekbone.

“I told you not to cause trouble, brat. Now I have to clean up your little mess.”

Aizawa’s body is tall and broad above you, holding you against him with a protective grip on the small of your back. Every word is sneering, punctuated with a growl-- you feel it reverberate against his chest.

The bullet is resounding even through the silencer; a deafening sound, final bell tolling next to smeared streaks of mascara.

Aizawa Shouta has always been around-- whether bringing your dad a hefty stack of reports to thumb through or loosening his tie in the parlor and toasting him to another job well done. A carousel of chauffeurs and bodyguards encircle you, but all are nameless faces except for the man that can make people disappear in an instant: Eraser.

Otsuka y/n, the only daughter of the most powerful man in Japan, is a weighty title against your shoulders. Your father’s reputation has cradled you for almost two decades, keeping you draped in fur and balancing on red-bottoms. He has more money, more power than God. To most of your father’s inner circle, you are the dutiful, angelic heiress to his blood-soaked empire. You play the part well enough, polite, temperate- your hands are painted red in culpability, but perfectly manicured.

Your father’s business isn’t a secret, no matter his attempts to shield you over the years. There’s only so many nights spent humming to the tune of cracking skulls in the next room before “investments in oil” starts to lose its validity. Whenever you ask him, he pats your head, smoothing stray strands of hair, “I do it all for you, bunny. Everything is for you.”

You decide not to think about rouge splatters of blood and bruises against his knuckles, ignoring the clicking of a loading gun before he leaves for the office.

It’s better this way.

“You can’t be serious, Otsuka.” Aizawa paces across the hardwood, heel to toe with Italian leather from one large bookshelf to the other. A familiar habit, you’ve seen the contemplative marching before and know it to mean one thing: Aizawa is pissed.

“Have you ever known me to joke around? Especially with y/n?” Your father’s elbows hit the table in front of him, the jagged scars lining his face seem even more intimidating when coupled with a harshly set frown. You perch on the side of his large desk, swinging your feet lightly.

“Oh daddy, I’m not a child. I don’t need Eraser to babysit me.” You huff, crossing your arms and providing a pout to your father’s hard expression. You hear the mumbled, “Don’t call me that,” from behind you, but decide against a response.

“He’s going to look after you while I’m in Musutafu. I have to handle some…” he trails off slightly, one of his hands coming up to rub against his bald head, “noncompliance, but I shouldn’t be gone for more than a few days.” His disfigured fingers curling around yours, you look up to meet his eye, “Be a good girl, bunny.”

You give your father’s temple a kiss, pulling back to smile sweetly. Your next words have Aizawa snorting, rolling his eyes far enough into his skull to be painful.

“I always am.”

A bend downwards at the hips frames your ass perfectly, the lace of your panties curls around your pussy tightly, hooking against the lips and showcasing your soft skin. Questions swirl in the bowl of cereal in front of him, all but forgotten as soon as a cup“fell” from your fingers and clattered to the floor. The taste, the smell, the feeling of--

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Aizawa is ripped from the reprehensible desires of his senses to meet your eyes, your form still folded over on itself and displayed for Aizawa in the otherwise empty kitchen. You giggle at his scowl, snapping back up and smoothing out your skirt. Aizawa bites down on the spoon in between his teeth, he swears he can feel his teeth cracking. Better his canines than his will.

This only marks the beginning of a long week for your father’s right-hand man. The proceeding days turn to nights at a snail's pace. The past week has been inching towards disaster with every minute of alone time you could steal with Aizawa.

“Eraser, what are you doing up so late.” Your voice curls around his shoulder, the whine tugging him towards your open bedroom door. It’s late, far too late for you to be up to anything good.

You always like to push your luck, playing a game you know Aizawa won’t let himself win. Pressing firmly against the line but never pointing your heel across. Maintaining your immunity, feigning innocence behind a soft pout. Your appointed guardian isn’t fooled by any honeyed façade you build around his associates. He knows what you are at the core.

He tries to shake off your pull, but the way your voice lilts against the long hallway is magnetic. The past few nights have been the same song and dance, your disarming call to him as he trudges to one of the many guest bedrooms. Every night he gets closer, heavy feet and tense nerves guiding him towards your warm voice. He’s weathering a sea, you’re the siren hell-bent on his drowning.

“I told you not to call me that, little girl.” His response to your wanton call is shallow, the nickname is one he hates the sound of, especially rolling past your lips.

“Do you like what you see?”

Aizawa’s brows set harshly as he looks on to where you lie nestled in pillows and silk. You have nothing but a loose, light pink camisole to cover your body, cotton panties pulled down to your ankles with shameless intent. Your legs are spread wide for your viewer’s pleasure, two fingers brush against your lips, dragging lazily- up and back down.

Aizawa knows what you really are, a petulant brat.

You pull at the soft skin, spreading yourself to unveil the tight, clenching hole. He leans his shoulder against the jam, eyes drinking you in where his body shamefully wishes to be. The groan aching deeply in his chest is not lost on you as your other hand pulls the hem of your shirt upwards to catch in between your teeth.

The soft plush of your breasts bounces slightly, nipples peeking out from the folds of fabric, now fully exposed to the inky-black stare of your voyeur. There’s nothing left to his imagination now, the question that haunts sleepless nights, palming a large hand up and down his cock and imagining something softer and smaller. The picture of what his boss’s precious daughter would look like squirming under him becoming clearer beyond all reason.

Aizawa should turn heel and walk away, he should slam your bedroom door shut and count the days until your father’s return with a measured distance. He should walk away. He should-

A soft whimper drags him from contemplation and back to the writhing succubus center stage. Your fingers move quickly against your aching clit, drawing out babbled pleas to hit harshly against the tall, brooding presence at your door.

“I’ve had about enough of your games, bunny. Your father tasked me to keep you out of trouble, but you are the trouble.” Aizawa’s words hit your ears mockingly, but they sound more like an invitation than a warning, especially as his body inches forward, breaching the threshold of your bedroom inch by inch.

Two fingers slip past your lips, pushing in and drawing back slicked with arousal. You repeat the action, slowly, ensuring the boring set of eyes are trained on where you clench desperately; wanting to put on a good show with your bodyguard in the front row.

Aizawa’s head is swimming, dizzy and drunk. He wants to tear you apart, to lay claim to the twitching prize between your legs. If you struggle around two of your own much smaller fingers, it would be nearly impossible to wrap you around his thick cock.

That is, not without breaking you.

The heated pants escaping you pick up in canter, your audience winding a tight cord with his presence alone. Aizawa is unrelenting in his deep, unblinking stare, stepping towards your bed slowly. Once his body is looming over you, the coil in your stomach has turned into a hair pinned trigger.

“Such a messy little slut. Getting off to the attention aren’t you?” You’re rendered dumb at his comment, Aizawa barely has to press his thumb into your chin before your mouth hangs open. You look up with glassy eyes, fingers sore from working against your pussy, chasing a high you can only imagine how fast Aizawa could steal from you. His expression is as neutral as always, but the despondency doesn’t quite shadow the fire burning in his eyes. You watch him lean forward slightly, a string of saliva falling downward to land against your tongue. His spit feels hot, you can taste the remnants of cigar and mint gum as you swallow.

You come undone in a litany of cries, pleading with your captor. His hold is passive as he looks at you, watching you cum against your fingers, the squelching sounds make his mouth dry. The only source of hydration is at the apex of your thighs. Visions flash before his eyes, images of what the curve of your breasts look like as he’s buried tongue deep, lapping you up post-orgasm and pushing you over once more for good measure.

Aizawa retreats, lest he pulls you against his mouth while your cunt is still pulsating, he needs to escape before your knees are pressed to your shoulders. He slams your door closed harshly, leaving you with the taste of his contempt for you on your bottom lip.

You’re quick to sleep, body falling into the warmth of unconsciousness coupled with dreams of what a certain set of fingers would feel like against you. How the scars and calluses would brush against your most intimate inches of spongy flesh, how he would stretch you.

You can almost feel the soreness in between your legs and the heavy slap of something against your stomach. You can almost remember the whispered confessional swimming in the back of your head, the soft grunts from above your sleeping form. As sunlight stretches across your sleep-stiff body, your hand trails down over your naked skin, maybe you aren’t the only one playing games this week.

You could have almost sworn you had gone to sleep with panties on.

The car ride to your father’s bar was filled with unflattering tension. You had protested in vain that going with Aizawa wasn’t necessary, but had been met with a dismissive, “I don’t trust you to behave.”

“I’m not a child, Eraser. I don’t see why I couldn’t just sit at home.” You wobble behind your escort, heeled boots clacking against the gravel.

As you enter the building, a young mop of violet hair flanks Aizawa down with a stack of papers. The man is nameless to you but is familiar enough to be assumed under your father’s thumb.

Aizawa looks over the document’s now held in front of him with care, rolling up the sleeves to his crisp dress shirt as his eyes scan the pages. You note the shimmering silvered skin of a scar under his left eye, pronounced by the harsh lighting surrounding you. His hair is held up partially by a tie, the loose strands framing his face.

“Are you listening to me, little girl?” You're snapped back from watching his mouth curling around syllables to actually make out what they’ve been saying.

“Go sit down, I’ll only be a few minutes.” You nod along and turn to perch at the bar, but stop at the grip pulling you back for one final order. “Don’t get yourself into trouble.”

Aizawa leaves you to stew in the subtle brush of his pointer finger against the tender skin of your wrist, he rubs the skin subtly before disappearing to the back rooms.

The minutes ticking by are agonizing. Aizawa, usually the epitome of brief, has been gone long enough for the condensation on your glass to mar the wood below it in countless ringlets. You twirl the straw against the strawberry liquor, willing time to crank by faster with the action. The drink in your veins isn’t nearly enough to get you drunk but does make the opening of the front door unnoticeable.

Your back is facing the heavy wood, unaware of the two strangers now approaching until the curdling sound of one man’s voice hits the shell of your ear.

“Well, well, look what we have here. Why don’t I buy you a drink, princess?” Each man steals one of your sides, enclosing you into a tight, predatory huddle.

“This is my bar. I don’t need you to buy me anything.” You try to shake off the nauseating feeling of their bodies so close to you, gut twisting uncomfortably as one man’s breath crawls across your shoulder blades. They’re both so close. Too close.

“Wow, this little kitty cat’s got some claws, don’t she?” You feel hands curl around each bicep, a bruising grip right below your armpits. Your body is hoisted up, your balance off at the jarring upheaval.

Possible escape routes flash across your mind but all seem impossible. Would trying to shake off the still faceless strangers even work? And even if you sprung free, would you make it to the back office before they caught up? Should you try to scream? Would Aizawa hear you?

Before you can make any moves, you feel the flat side of a knife at your collarbone. A chill rattles down your spine at the contact, two inches of metal keeping your entire body compliant.

Their intent is clear, you’ll be coming with them, and by the sharp point of a blade digging into the first layer of skin-- you’ll be coming quietly.

A mixture of shock and disbelief compels your body into compliance, dragging you to the front door and closer towards an awaiting trunk.

“Your carriage, princess.” You hear the shorter man on your right, his voice at your neck sounds waterlogged through the blood rushing in your ears. Any protests die at the knife against your skin, digging in shallowly and pricking a small trail of red along your clavicle.

A sharp snap sounds behind you, like a piece of thin wood under a heavy boot. One of your captors falls in a pile next to you. You’re turned around to meet a familiar pair of venomous, black eyes, Aizawa’s words roll from his tongue with a growl.

You’re pulled at the wrist, stumbling back into the strong chest of your appointed bodyguard.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my bunny?”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#aizawa smut #aizawa x reader smut #aizawa x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader #shouta aizawa #tw: somnophilia #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: weapons

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project-paranoia · 3 years

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Let’s Watch: Yin Yang Master: Dream of Eternity

I have watched this movie 85 Whole Entire Times and I do not regret. The only thing wrong with this movie is that it wasn't a fifty episode series. I cried, I laughed, I fell in love. The cinematography is on point, the acting is amazing, the crew member who put snow on people's eyebrows did an amazing job, and the acting! The subtlety, the gentleness, the love and affection, the discussion of race is one of the best I've ever seen.

As people have pointed out before in series like X-Men that fear of mutant's is practically if not thematically justified due to the laser eyes in a way that fear of ethnic minorities just isn't in real life. In Dream of Eternity however humans are equally if not sometimes more super powered than the yao they hunt. Demons - very much not in the Christian sense - are a mixture of spirits, resentful souls, and animals and plants who cultivated to human form. They often appear human at first glance and in some cases the extent of their power seems to be the limited to turning into a smaller more vulnerable animal. Qingming's deliberate care and gentleness not only reflects his upbringing as a Yin Yang Master, but parallels the experience of racial minorities labelled as aggressive.

The movie takes particular care as well in the way it looks at trauma, grief, and love. The three of which haunt the main characters and send out ripple effects into the world around them. In the world of Dream of Eternity no loss is purely private, it spools out into the world around the person effected until they make an effect to acknowledge and deal with their experiences. Qingming's warmth and gentleness isn't just marked by his behaviour but by the orange light he's lit by and his variety of shishen - but he is also separate, standing alone in frame and facing away from the people around him. Boya's loss has made him unforgiving and as cold as the blue light he's lit in, and yet he is open and instinctive, talking and acting as soon as the thought enters his head. The Empress is lost and drifting, trapped and grief stricken, vulnerable to those who profess to love her. The film is simple, it says and shows what it means when it means it - but it is also as complex as the very human characters it depicts.

The movie is made even more complex by its pull from theaters. Claims of plagiarism drench the edges of the movie, which as true as the assertion that Fan BingBing went on a spa vacation in 2018. Although this blog is about Chinese censorship dealing specifically with BL content, Chinese censorship also effects those who criticize governmental policy. I hope that supporters of this blog will also support Chinese media threatened by censorship for many reasons so that artists and others involved in film making can continue to make meaningful content.

Doing a watchthrough of a movie is not feasible, but please enjoy a few thousand words - with spoilers on Yin Yang Master included:

* That gentle chiming and rain soundscaping is so soothing, what a great way to calm and lull the audience before the movie even starts * Qingming is so small and isolated in the frame - cinema! * The lighting and cinematography is just so good * Shifu, soft gentle teacher * So much love stored in the Shifu * Instant grow * This boy is Sassy * This theme of deflection in Qingming's character is established early * Deflection with a teleportation portal and then immediately deflection verbally * Shifu is certainly an attractive man aged up, but his face is also soft and gentle, something to note when his double pops up later * Also the awkward question of don't you have someone you want to protect, maybe part of the problem is that shifu is just really bad at wording things * The answer that yes he does has several meanings, one of which is immediately apparent when Shifu acts out one of those Father Saves Child By Yeeting them youtube videos * ACtion MuSIC * I love them your honour * The spirit guardian's design is so specific and elegant, absolutely superb you funky little shishen * I wonder if Qingming ever thinks about that if he didn't come back with all his fellow disciples that Shifu would have been fine * Maybe it's not that he doesn't have someone he wants to protect and more that he believes that he's not capable of protecting those he wants to * subtle indication Shifu's qi is corrupted * Precious Magic Childe ;-; * The framing, I'm living for it * The Serpent graphic is lovely * Also the way they set things up * Qingming cares so much about his shifu * Mark Chao just has the ability to crumple his face like paper * Sad Time exposition involving the corrupting influence of desires * "When you're gone I'll be all alone" in just about all you need to know about Qingming at this point in the story * Also like, sympathy for Shifu in raising this lonely child. By all accounts he was an absolutely superb father figure, and Qingming I'm sure was not an easy child to raise. He's the sort of kid that would take a lot of calm and patience. * Slumber party! * It's kind of interesting that this is an activity Fangyue and He Shouyue are doing together. He's definitely obsessed and in love with her and she's just doing friends and family activities with him * Also yellow/gold lighting is kind of their thing * It's interesting how they do the make up for He Shouyue. The actor is very attractive, but they make him up to look doll like, a little too pretty, a little too shiny. Like a porcelain doll. * Cool lit Boya and warm lit Qingming appear! * Camels! * The framing is so good, they're careful to be sure he's shown as obviously isolated as much as possible * And it should go without saying that I adore the City * The matte painting is outstanding * But there's also the lighting, the vignettes, the clusters, the foliage * It is a supremely beautiful set * The irony that Killing Stone is playing along with Boya's music and then it's Boya who kicks him around * A small note, but one I appreciate - even when Boya has warm highlight's they're red instead of orange * "It's Jason Bourne!" * I hope Qingming paid for that water taxi * It's interesting how Killing Stone goes from the safety of Qingming's orange light to the danger of Qingming's blue * Colour related foreshadowing! * Look at this poor sweet man, how could anyone suspect him of anything. He's just a sad man who loves his dead wife * Qingming's use of a fan is interesting - battle fans show up all over wuxia and xianxia, but it feels like it also ties into the way he's so very careful in how he presents himself. There's that quote that a sword can only be a sword but other weapons are also able to serve other purposes - not a perfect quote but the point is got across. * The way Qingming just knocks Boya back, like get An Clue, my dude * The way that Killing Stone curls around the pipa ;-; * So the movie is based on the book series 'Onmyoji' by Yumemakura Baku. The books start with Seimei (Qingming) and Hiromasa (Boya) already in a relationship talking about various cases Seimei has recently experienced. Plotwise, obviously the stories are different, however thematically Seimei and Hiromasa discuss why some yao stick around and solutions to the difficulties and dangers they might cause - which is generally from Seimei's very successful perspective to listen and treat them like humans. So in that way the plots of the books and the movie are quite different, but the themes are just about identical. * Boya says Don't Talk Me I Angy and also that demons don't have feelings and Qingming's face takes out a billboard that's just like Ah, Another Fantasy Racist, Excellent * Qingming also does what should be done in this situation, taking care of the victim not the racist * Fight scene! Fight scene! * Qingming's first few moves aren't to attack, they're to distract and just hold his fan up to block Boya's way and his view - it's only when Boya persists in attacking that Qingming fights back * Qingming's sassy smile, he is very much deliberately irritating Boya as much as he's refocusing his attention and distracting him * "nICE sWORD" * I've sighed that sigh before * This boy is taking great pleasure from teasing Boya, but also he makes a really good point * I understand and relate to what Qingming did, but also I can understand why Boya was ready to throw rocks at Qingming when he saw him again * Killing Stone lit in Qingming's orange light again * Killing Stone, my beloved * A good gauge to the state of the world for yao is no one has told this sweet boy before that demons have feelings too * There are several lines like this in the movie that just drop kick you with Implications * The same way Qingming clung to Zhongxing, Killing Stone wants to join up with Qingming to have some compassion in his life * The way he asks to be a spirit guardian is so formal too, and Qingming is so gentle with him, I cry ;-; * The warm orange light of Qingming's love ;-; * He heals the wounds * It took me an embarrassing amount of time to realise it's the actual imperial degree speaking and not one the of Jingyun Temple Masters * The mutual this guy again is delicious * "Is it because of your pretty face" * Boya draws his sword so fast and Qingming is so amused by it * Longye! Queen! I love her! * The two of them seem to understand each other instantly * Those sassy little smiles * He Shouyue looks even more like a doll than before * Longye has her head on a swivel from second one, she plays the Maiden so well like she's not a skilled master * And her customer service smile * Qingming is shooketh

* What happens next? You'll have to watch and find out!

#1683 words #yin yang master dream of eternity #yin yang master #censorship #chinese censorship

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spacehologramcollection · 4 years

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Earthrealm customs.

We have a big problem. This isn’t as great as I’ve hyped it up to be I fear! But I loved writing this. I’ve had to base this off the limited exposure we’ve had to Fujin. Starts off cute gets smutty.

Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, smut, smut and more smut. 18+ under the cut. Pairings: Fujin X Female Reader. Word count: 6814 GIF does not belong to me.

You stood outside the gallery. Impatiently drumming your fingers against your elbow. You clicked your tongue against your teeth. Shifting from one leg to the other. Eyes roaming around the busy street in front of you. Leaning against the cool glass of the window behind you. The skies above were blue and clear. The sun was beating down on you, making you regret taking a jacket, a that was now wrapped around your waist haphazardly. The day was only to get hotter; it was the warmest spring day of the year. But then again, it was on the cusp of summer, so it did not surprise you. You sighed, removing your phone, pretending to check it for the millionth time. Eyes looking up at the man staring at you, forcing a bittersweet smile, you returned your attention to your empty phone. It was a bad habit. You cared far too much about what people thought of you, he told you that with one of those smiles that made your heart flutter and your knees weak. You locked your phone, once more slipping it back into your short pocket, and folding your arms over your chest. No messages or missed calls, your phone was always on silent for this reason. It gave you an excuse to check your phone in awkward situations. It solidified the fact you were waiting for someone and wasn’t just some weird person stood outside the gallery. You were sure no one actually thought that, but you felt you had to prove your point, had to let people know that you were in fact waiting for your date. He wasn’t late. No late wasn’t his style. You were just early, far too early, again. But you had been excited for your date. It wasn’t often it got to be just the two of you. You’d had your outfit planned for the past week, you’d played it all out in your heard, and you intended to make the most of your time together. You checked your nails, spotless and painted a light shade of grey. Grey always reminded you of him. Grey was the colour of cloudy weather, the colour of those clouds that haunted the skies above the sea, as the wind battered the coast. A cool breeze brushed past you, causing your jacket to dance against the bare skin of your legs, and strands of hair to fly across your face. You closed your eyes. He had arrived. Savouring the moment as the breeze nipped your bare skin, as if trying to entice it to dance. The smell of freshness hitting your nostrils. It was barely a tangible smell. One moment like a fresh meadow, the next it was like fresh laundry that had been dried on the line, and then it was like the smell of the sea, salty and harsh. A small wistful smile playing on your lips. Lost in the moment. It reminded you of him, made your heartache and skip at the same time, in a unique paradox. Once the breeze had died down, once more returning to the warm spring day, you opened your eyes and the smile fades, as there is no sign of him. Your back in the city. The smell of petrol and that usual smell of the city invading your senses. You frown. You weren’t on your balcony waiting for him to appear, nor were you at the top of the Sky Temple, looking over at the beauty and majesty before you, with strong arms wrapped around you. You were in the city. The same, boring, old city. Waiting for the man you loved to return. You sighed, sliding down the window a little, your legs were beginning to tire. You regretted arriving so early. You thought it’d take you a little longer than normal to walk to the gallery from your apartment. But you were wrong. It took you 10 minutes. You did have plans to get a coffee, but the heat of the day made you change your opinion on that. You had wanted to pick up a cooler after, but upon spying the queues you’d opted against that. You had time to kill, but you didn’t want to spend it queuing in a coffee shop. Potentially spilling anything on your outfit. You weren’t vain, but you wanted today to be perfect. It had been months since you had last seen him, and you wanted to commit to memory. Who knew when you’d see him again? As much as it filled your heart with ache and yearning, you knew you had chosen this life, you had accepted this when you fell for him and he for you. Falling in love with a God wasn’t easy nor for the faint of heart. Barely seeing each other, limited time when you did, and any chance of normality slipping through your fingers. But it wasn’t all angst and waiting. Falling in love with a God was an amazing experience, one that filled you with wonder, your meetings became sacred and special. You loved nothing more than hearing the stories and tales he had to tell. His voice made anything sound amazing, he could have read you the phonebook, and you’d have become smitten. You smile to yourself, lulling your heard to the side as you look out over the road. Walking up the stairs towards you is a man. A familiar looking one at that. You narrow your eyes, placing a hand over your eyes to shield them from the light… it looked like him, only, with shorter hair. A lot shorter. You open your mouth and frown a little. It had been a few months, but you were sure you still knew what he looked like. A smile was on his face, warm and with a small hint of a playful smirk. A small, ever so slight one, barely detectable to those that didn’t know him. It was him… Fujin… Your smile returned as he strode towards you. Catching the eye of a few passers-by, who stopped to double take the figure walking past them. You would have done the same if you didn’t know him. He was tall, pushing 6’3 at the least. With hair as white and as pure as virgin snow. Hair that used to be longer than yours, and always tied back in an elegant braid; now swept back and slightly tussled. As he got closer you spied his eyes. No longer the prominent, bold, flash of glimmering silver sclera. No. His eyes were now a deep shade of brown. “Y/N.” He greeted, closing the distance till he’s stood before you in all of his glory. Smiling down at you, he softly and deftly pushes stray strands from your hair. Acting as if he wasn’t the cause for your hair to be so misplaced. “You’ve changed your hair.” You say, smiling widely up, whilst your cross your arms. You like it. As much as you like his long hair, this one did something to him. It almost made him appear more rugged, yet more sophisticated. It was different and it emphasised that sharp jawline more. His hand shot up to the short locks, running a hand through it, trying to smooth down some of strayed messed. “Kung Lao said I would suit it…” He paused, looking you up and down, trying to detect if you liked it or not. “Do you not like it Y/N?” He asked. Worry lacing his tone. You shake your head, leaning in and attempting to plant a small peck on his cheek. Pulling at the collar of the shirt he’s wearing, he leans down slightly, allowing you to finally land the kiss. “It’s different. But I think you suit it.” You whisper before leaning back and clasping your hands in front of you. His smile returns and he shakes his head before placing his hand tentatively over yours. “I am glad you like it. I was worried you would not recognise me for a moment. The unfunny jester had joked that you would not recognise me. I was worried he was right.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a spare hand. You feigned shock before shaking your head. Unfunny and a jester, it could only be Johnny. “A world in which Johnny Cage is right is a scary concept.” You tease back. You dip into your satchel, pulling out the guide to the gallery. You’d picked it up before waiting outside. You were eager to check it out. You weren’t sure how Fujin felt about it, but he seemed more than happy to see more of Earthrealm culture. “Are you excited?” You ask eagerly, gripping the glossy guide in your hand. You were hyped beyond belief, so much so, you didn’t even read the guide. You wanted to experience the exhibit with him. Fujin nodded before looking up at the building. “I am. I am very excited to see more of Earthrealms art…” He looked back down at you and smiled. “And you know of my vice for painting.” He gently gripped your hand in his. “You’re going to love this. It’s about Myths, Legends and The Gods of Old. I’m hoping there’s at least one painting of you and Raiden in here.” You tease, rubbing your fingers over his knuckles. His hands aren’t cold, but they are warm either. They are the perfect temperature. Comfortable and they fil with you content. “Lead the way…” He encourages, leaning back and giving you space to push yourself up from your perch. You grab back a hold of his hand, as you walk towards the entrance, talking about anything and everything. His fingers intertwined with yours in an act of rebellion. Raiden discussed often with his brother about displays of public affection. But no one knew he was a god here. You were just a couple, here to admire some art.

You’re both stood before a painting… well, you think it’s a painting. Fujin is behind you, hands in his pockets, eyes fixated on the painting. Smears of grey, blue and yellow paint are all over the canvas. Swirls of the colour melding into one. Dots and flashes of orange are scattered across the canvas. As if the brush had been dropped. This exhibit hadn’t been what you had expected it to be. “What is it Y/N?” Fujin asked, leaning in to whisper in your ear. As if ashamed to not know what it is. You shrug your shoulder. “Maybe it’s a sunrise?” You suggest. You weren’t one to mock art, you knew it was in the art of the beholder. But you were struggling here. Fujin nodded before opening the guidebook. “It is supposed to be a deconstructed apple of chaos, one which belonged to Eris.” Your eyes widen, you spin on your heel to face him. “The fuck?” You blurt out a little too loudly. Fujin smiles, whilst others around you frown and tsk out your outburst. You look around apologetically, mouthing sorry at the disgusted faces looking at you. Fujin chuckles to himself, his eyes dancing in the gallery lights. “I have missed you Y/N. Your honesty, is next to none.” He whispers, pulling you in to his side, so he can hold you whilst you walk. Public displays of affection are not your forte or something you’re clear on. The thought of making out on a bench or the back of a bus, turns you off majorly. But with Fujin, his displays of affection are so subtle and romantic. He’s unashamed, and mostly unadjusted to the customs of Mortals. Raiden is far more versed than his brother, and from what you can gather, mortal and Earthrealm customs confuse him still. Even after many a year among the mere mortals that call this realm home. You hadn’t expected Fujin to be this way, you imagined him to be more like Raiden… but then you figured there was a reason him and Kung Lao got on. He was more laidback than Raiden. He joked around more. A dry sense of humour if ever there was one, but it was endearing. “Do you believe an apple could cause chaos?” He asked you curiously. You shrug your shoulders before debating it in your head. “Maybe. The myth is that Eris the goddess of discord, essentially Yeeted an apple.” Fujin cut you off. A perplexed look on his face. “Yeeted? This is a word I’m not overly familiar with. I have heard Cassandra Cage and Jacqueline Briggs often speak of this Yeet.” You nod before thinking of the best way to explain it. “Yeeted, it means to throw. But it’s slang. I wouldn’t start using it in everyday conversation. It’s a… it’s an internet thing. I actually can’t remember most of the legend” You admit, watching as he nods and mulls over the word. “Eris threw the apple among the gods at the wedding feast of Peleus and Thetis. Which caused arguments amongst many of the gods and goddesses, which according to legend, sparked the Trojan War.” He looks down at you to see you’re smiling. “So, you know the legend. Do you have apples of chaos?” You ask him, curious to see if there such things. He scoffs before stopping to look at a statue. “I have never heard of them. But there is a realm of Chaos, maybe they have apple trees down there. Shujinko may know, he has visited Chaos realm. I will ask him when I see him next and I will let you know.” His way of speaking always brings a smile to your face. It’s almost poetic and breezy, he’s well-spoken and his voice always makes you feel calm. “I’ve missed you a lot.” You nuzzled into his side. The smell of a fresh breeze flooding your senses once more. He smiles down at you as you continued to walk. “A whole realm dedicated to chaos seems a bit much.” You admit. Fujin scoffs again before shaking his head. “You cannot comprehend the headache it gives me. We have always underestimated one of the Clerics that dwells there. But recently he has become, how would you put it?” He paused, looking down at you, eyes wide as if asking for help. “A giant pain in the arse?” You say without a skip of a beat. Fujin nods before laughing a little, his strong arms encircling your waist tighter. “Yes. But enough speak of other realms. I desire to know more about this… art. Why does it lack form or content?” He curiously asked, pausing to stare at a huge canvas painted with red. You read the label. The Sea of Blood… You frown. You don’t have an answer for it. “Modern art. It doesn’t have to look like anything, it’s all about meaning and expression. I guess. I’m not too sure. I’m not a huge fan, but if it makes them happy, then it makes them happy.” Fujin shakes his head looking away. “The Sea of Blood is not one continuous shade of red.” He mutters to himself. Attracting the attention of a woman stood near him, who seemingly doesn’t agree with the God of Winds opinion. “I think it’s spot on.” Fujin shrugs his shoulders before continuing to walk with you.

You enter a corridor that is far darker than the rest of them. You were searching for the painting you knew was in the gallery. You needed him to see it. You feel his fingers caress your sides lightly, sending electric sensations up your spine. “Is the Sea of Blood actually real?” You ask him curiously. Fujin who seems to be lost in his own little world is looking around at the more traditional paintings. He hums before nodding. “Oh yes. It is very real. Y/N, what is that woman doing?” He asked, shrugging off the revelation that there is a real Sea of Blood, instead pointing his hand at the painting before you. Letting go of you to examine the scene before you. Your eyes grow wide, mouth slightly agape and a blush forming on your face. “She’s giving him a blowjob.” You quickly say, coughing and looking away. The burn of mortal shame upon you. Fujin turns back to you, eyes wide, head tilted forward. Your answer clearly not enough. “Please explain what a ‘Blow Job’ is.” He asks, a little too loudly, once more people are looking at you. You quickly shake your head, a small smile on your lips. “Oh, that famous mortal shame.” He teases, swiping a finger over your face to trace your blush. You shake your head and continue walking, Fujin in tow, it doesn’t take him long with his long legs to catch you up. You’re searching for the end of this corridor. You know it’s got to be somewhere. “Y/N…” He asks, whispering now, trying to keep his voice down. You turn to him and shake your head looking around. The corridor is abandoned. You push him back against one of the walls. “It’s a sex act. Basically, you suck someone’s cock, till they ejaculate. I’ll tell you more about it later.” You didn’t give a shit about your explanation. Fujin tilted his head, leaning down to capture your lips. His lips were soft against yours, his arms wrapped around your hips. Fingers dancing over your back. You close your eyes and lean into the kiss. It became more heated as you pressed your body against his. Only to remember where you are. You pull away, coughing and blushing, as you look down the last part of the corridor spying a door. Fujin leans back down to capture your lips once more. “The Gallery will be closing in ten minutes.” The announcement voice echoed. You jerk back, nearly headbutting Fujin in the face. Your eyes wide. “Is something wrong?” He asks you, worry lacing that usual calm tone. You can’t believe it’s closing time already. “I just… why is it closing so early?” You quickly say, looking down at your phone. It was only 3 in the afternoon. The gallery was open till 10 on a weekend. Fujin opened the guide. “It is closing early for a ball that is been held here.” He informs you, holding the guide open for you to see. Shit… You hadn’t got to show him the painting of himself and Raiden. You sigh before looking up at him. “We better get going.” You say, moving back and grabbing his hand to help him up, not that he needed any help. He had grace and poise like you’d never seen before. The sound of late springs rain hitting the ceiling filled your ears. It was going to be an interesting walk home. Your date had been cut short, but was that bad? The two of you could always hang out at your apartment… if he was down for that. You’d been dating for a few months now; intimacy had not gone further than a few heated kisses and stolen touches. You hadn’t wanted to push anything. But everything happens for a reason.

You had run home with Fujin in tow. He had offered you his jacket, but you had shaken your head, all whilst pulling him through the sodden streets back to yours. Till you had arrived, when you had invited him in, he had nodded and followed you into the foyer and the elevator up to your floor. A few soft touches as you unlocked your door, had led to where you both were now. He was sat on your sofa, sodden jacket discarded on a nearby radiator drying. His shirt was now tighter, showing off that finely tuned and muscular body. You emerged from the bathroom, towelling off your soaked hair. The sound of the rain hitting the outside filled you with comfort. You glanced over to see Fujin was on your sofa, looking around your small apartment curiously. You smiled before walking towards him, grabbing a fresh towel from the clean washing pile you had yet to put away. You drop your wet towel after drying your face off. The cup of tea you made him has been drunk, the cup now lays neatly on your coffee table on a coaster. “You’re soaked.” You tease, pushing him back so you can straddle his hips. You bring the towel up and begin to towel dry his now short hair. When you pull the towel away, his eyes are looking up at you, as dark as forest yet burning as if it was on fire. Hair dishevelled and messed up. “I am sorry about that… I could remedy that…” You shake your head, fingers ghosting over his face, cleaning up stray raindrops. Your wondering where this boldness is coming from. His voice barely a whisper. Leaning in, his breath ghosting over your face, making your skin tingle and eliciting a spark reaction up your spine. You shiver, pressing your body closer to his. He had been very forward today. Far more than he’d been in the past. You weren’t complaining. He was an extremely handsome man, you run a finger across his jawline and down onto his shoulders, completely disregarding the towel and letting it fall down the back of your couch. Your, hands tremble slightly as your fingers ghost and dance over the buttons. Fujin doesn’t speak, his eyes instead locked with yours, burning brighter and brighter. As if reading your mind, he sits up, his lips locking with yours. His tongue dances over your lips, as his arms encircle your waist, pulling you in closer to him. You can feel his cock hardening beneath you. You moan into the kiss, opening your mouth enough for his tongue to slip into yours. Your tongues swirl and dance as they meet. The lingering taste of sweet tea fills you with joy. Your hands slip into his hair, tugging and pulling at the strands. Trying to grab onto something to ease your hands that were dying to touch other parts of him. His hands slip up your t-shirt, his finger brush against your bare stomach as they teasingly rub up and down. You grind down a little, to test the waters, only to elicit a groan from the god below you. Pulling away, you push his arms and hands away from you. Before yanking your t-shirt up and over your heard, throwing it to one side of your room. You look down to see his eyes are slowly becoming more cloudy… Interesting… You think to yourself, smirking before looking down at him. His eyes are burning into you, looking you up and down and taking in every inch of your body. “Y/N…” He whispers, hands running up and down your sides. His fingers caress every inch of skin he can touch and feel. Touches so soft, as if you were one of those statues back at the gallery, threatening to crack unless treat with such care. Your fingers start to slowly unbutton his grey shirt. One button at a time. You slowly take your time, whilst he’s taken aback by your body. Upon getting halfway and spying his well-toned abdomen you lose your patience. You quickly undo the rest, parting the shirt as your hands greedily splay out over his abs. Swirls of blue glowing tattoos line his right pectoral. Pulsating with every heartbeat. A few scars are littered here and there over his lower abs. You brush over them and you feel them tense underneath you. You pause in your movements. Looking back at him. His eyes are once again fixated on you. “What is wrong Y/N?” He asks you. You shake your head, a finger ghosting over his smooth lips. “Are you sure you want to do this, I don’t wanna rush you.” You admit sheepishly. Your thirst for the God of Wind had apparently taken over your senses. Fujin chuckles, cupping your cheeks as he kisses your lips softly. “I have never been surer of anything in my life.” He reassures you. “Would now be a good time, for you to explain more about this… sex act you mortals seem to perform?” He teases. A joke probably. But who are you to miss a learning opportunity. A wicked grin spreads across your lips. If he was so sure. You slide back and slowly lower yourself to the floor, nudging his legs apart so you can sit between them. His eyes are blown wide, in a mix of mild arousal and confusion. “Y/N What are you doing?” Intrigue in his voice, as he watches you sink to the floor to sit between his parted legs. You begin to rub his thighs, watching as he shivers, and feeling his body twitch and react. “How about I show you?” You tease, fingers dipping up from his thighs, and wandering towards the belt he wore. “I would… Like that very much.” He whispered, hands brushing stray damp strands of hair from your face. Your hands quickly make short work of his belt, quickly undoing it and fumbling the metal clasp to the side. You deftly pop the button on his pants and deftly undo the zip. You feel his body tense and hitch underneath you as you as you palm the bulge in his pants. “Stand up…” You prompt, one hand circling his thigh with two fingers, whilst the other gently palmed his bulge. Fujin didn’t speak or react, he stood up and you moved back give him space. Your hands travelled up his legs. You toyed with the waistband of both his boxers and pants. Your fingers deftly yanking at his shirt. Indicating you wanted it off. Fujin quickly removed his shirt, tossing it onto the sofa behind him. Your hands ran up and down his lower abdomen, caressing every inch of bare flesh before you, the feel of his powerful muscles twitching below him. Your hands run their way down to his pants, slowly tugging at the bands, before pulling them deftly down. Your soon face to face with his impressive cock. Your cunt clenched at the sight of it. It was on the large side, relatively in proportion to his body, and well suited to his form. Your hands glide down and over his cock. You feel him tense and his breath hitch, as your hands caresses his cock before gently furling your fingers around him. You look up and watch him. His eyes are closed, head lulled back, his hands clenched.

Gently you began to tease his head with your hand. You start slow, watching as his muscle tense and his reactions to your ministrations. His eyes are still closed, and his moans are muffled. He’s holding back and you can tell. You smirk to yourself whilst beginning to pick up your speed and intensity. Your hand tightens around his cock, and you begin to feel him losing control. His body shivers and you hear an escaped moan. One hand of his is digging into his hips whilst the other is still at his side. You can feel precum beading from his head, it feels slick against your fingers and you know you can’t keep up the teasing with your hands. You’d promised to show him a little bit more about Earthrealm and you’re intending to keep that promise. You remove your hand, his eyes briefly opening to look down at you. Wonderment filling them to why you have stopped. His mouth opens to interject, only to be met with shock and awe. Your mouth replaces your hand. You take him in slowly, once more testing the waters. His cock is thick and long, far bigger and thicker than you’re used to. Your tongue slowly began to swirl around his head. You felt him tense up, his body standing straight, whilst he let out a stifled moan. One of his hands shot into his hair, trying to grab and grip at it to keep in control. You watched as his eyes snapped shut and his face contorted into a pure look of pleasure. Sin incarnate, you wondered how one man could look so sinful. Like an Adonis and so much so like a … well a God really. There were no other words for what he was. You eventually took his whole shaft into your mouth, moaning around his cock as you did so. Your tongue wrapped around his base and you gagged slightly. Before your hollowed your cheeks and began to move your way back up his shaft. You paused halfway through before going back down, catching him by surprise, as he let out a loud moan. The noises he was making were sinful and encouraging you to go on. You carried on with your movements, moving and up and down his shaft, all the whilst he was coming undone. Moaning and tensing up with each movement. Your eyes watched as he moaned and stood still, one hand in his own hair, the other hovering over yours. You rolled your eyes, smirking against his cock. Your hands were currently braced against his thighs, helping to give you leverage as you fucked him with your mouth. You slowly moved one of them, finding his hand and forcing it to knot within your hair. His fingers were at first, hasty and unsure, but they eventually began to grip at the hair. Pulling it and gently tugging. You swirled your way to the tip of his cock, teasing the head by sucking and hollowing your cheeks. Before you took him by surprise, taking him deep into your mouth, until his cock is hitting the back of your mouth. Tears are streaming down your face. “By The Elder Gods…” He whispers, a loud moan ripping from his throat as his hands find their way to your hair. Messing it and tugging at the strands, forcing you further onto his cock. You’re unsure if he’s aware but you carry on. “I am… I am not going to last long…” He admits. His voice, barely a whimper. You debate carrying on and finishing him off with your mouth. You can imagine the taste of his cum as it slides down your throat. You moan at the thought, but then you wonder what his cock would be like inside your cunt… and your torn. You pull off his cock with a loud pop, you carry on slowly stroking it with your hand. “What is on your mind?” He asked. As if sensing your internal debate. “I want to sit on your cock…” You admit. Fujin croaks out a scoff before smiling and shaking his head. His eyes are open wide now, no longer the deep shade of brown, once more they are pure silver and glowing. “I would like you to do that… please…” You smile before standing up and releasing his cock from your hand.

You quickly stand and begin to shed the rest of your layers. Toeing off your shoes, shorts and then underwear. Before pulling your bra off and discarding of them. You’re unsure why but you turned around. You slide a hand over your body before turning round to see Fujin has followed suit. Stood before you. You chew your lower lip. He’s impressive beyond words. His legs are well-toned, as he stands tall and bare before you. His abs have a slight sheen to them from earlier. A strong muscular arm is holding his cock, playfully stroking it whilst those glimmering eyes look at you. “You are so beautiful…” He whispers, walking towards you whilst letting go of his cock. His hand caressing your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Your lips met and your tongues danced once more. You could feel him pressing you up against the wall of your apartment. His fingers running up and down your body as your back hit the wall and the kiss intensified. Your hands flew up into his hair, as a leg hooked behind his and you deepened the kiss. When he breaks from the kiss, his legs are nudging yours apart, whilst his fingers travel down from your neck to caress your breasts. Your nipples are hard from the cold nip of the air in the room, the coolness his body seems to emit. You shiver as he presses himself further against you, the cool of his skin melding with the warmth of your own. His fingers gently pinch and roll your pebbled nipple, between his finger and his thumb. You moan, arching your back, once more pressing your body further against his cool one. “Fujin…” You moan. He chuckles, his lips moving to your neck as his hands trail further down towards your cunt. His lips worked at sucking at your neck, before moving down to your shoulders, his lips latching to the nook of your neck before gently sucking and biting at your skin. You knew there would be marks but you didn’t care. His fingers ghost over your clit, with his thumb beginning to rub, there’s some uncertainty with his movements. The confidence seems to be fading as it gets closer to the act. His thumb picks up speed, moving around till he finds your sweet spot, until he hears that moan that elicits a shiver up his spine and an arch of your back. You could feel yourself growing wetter and wetter, your cunt was aching, and you desperately needed something inside you. Godly intuition or maybe it was your pants and muffled words of nonsense that were dripping from your lips that helped him guess. He slid one finger up into your tight cunt, moving away from your neck to give himself a better angle. You moaned, your hips bucking up into his hand as he slowly wiggled his fingers around. Once more trying to hit that sweet spot that would make you moan. You bucked your hips once more, your cunt growing used to his digit, you weren’t normally the one to beg but… “Another… please…” You whined. Fujin chuckled, before trailing peppered kisses down your collarbones and onto your chest. He inserted another finger, sliding it in, it was unexpected, and it made you gasp again. A feeling of fullness taking over you. You adjusted to his cool digits as he began to slide them in and out. Pumping them until he had picked up a steady rhythm, a rhythm that had you moaning and rocking your hips against his hands in wanton lust. You could feel your cunt starting to pulsate and tighten, the band in your abdomen tightening, he was edging you closer and closer. “I need to be inside you…” Fujin whispered into your ear, nipping at your ear as he did so. Your hands found his hair, nodding and moaning, you were becoming impatient and needed his cock. “Fuck me. Show me how a God fucks a mortal.” You begged. Fujin moaned, leaning back and swiftly removing his fingers.

You watched as he pumped his cock a few times. Coating it with your slickness. You wrapped your arms around his neck and parted your leg before raising one up to wrap it around his waist. He lined his cock up with your entrance, rubbing the head against your soaking cunt, before gently pushing it in. It was cool as it slid into you. You couldn’t even moan, your mouth opened, ready to pray to The Elder Gods for sweet release, but all you got, was emptiness as your senses were gripped by wanton lust and pure pleasure. Your eyes were closed as one hand raked against his back, whilst the other flew into his hair, trying to hold on. Fujin moaned as he slid further and further in, before he was in at the hilt. He fell forward, taking a few minutes to compose himself. He nipped at your collarbone. Before gripping your thigh and hooking his hand under your arse. You felt comfortable and full. Wrapping the over leg around his waist, you allowed him to support all of your weight as your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist. His hand gripped your ass, squeezing and teasing the flesh beneath his greedy hands. You moaned loudly, panting almost at the feel of him inside you. He began to withdraw, your back pressed firmly against the wall, your cunt was already beginning to feel empty. You arched your back, clenching your legs around his waist, not wanting him to leave. Only to have him thrust back in. He repeated this action a few times, before picking up the pace, and rocking into your hips. You began to lose control, your grip on his hair and back losing, as both of them fell flat against the wall. Your tits bounced about as he fucked deep into you, your body bouncing against the coolness of the wall and his cool body. Hard abs pressed into soft flesh. You moaned loudly, praying your neighbours didn’t hear the banging, but also not caring. “Fuck Fujin… Fuck…” You’d lost control over your vocabulary. Only managing to utter a few words at a time. Your hips began to rock back and forth in tandem with his own thrusts. You were edging slowly towards your release but there was just something missing from this position. You needed something… you needed more. “Couch.” You managed to pant out. Fujin moaned into your shoulder before, nibbling as he fucked you deep. The angle had found was sublime. But you wanted to go on top. You needed his fingers against your clit. “I want to ride that godly cock of yours.” You manage to moan out. Fujin pants, slowing his thrusts down. The couch isn’t far from the wall, and he slides out of you. Your cunt aches and you’re left jelly legged. He slowly lets you down before you unwrap your legs and stand on the floor. You feel ready to collapse but you know your work isn’t done. You need to chase your release.

You push him back onto the sofa. Back into the position that started it all. Your arms wrap around his neck, your lips clashing into his, as your hand positions his wet and hard cock up to your entrance once more. You slowly slide down, taking his cock into you before you moan loudly. As you sink down to it, once more feeling deliciously full. Fujin wraps an arm around your waist, whilst you place your hands on his shoulders. You began to lift your hips up and down, quickly fucking his cock and hard and fast. Fujin moves a hand down to your clit and begins to rub with his thumb. You can feel that release building and bubbling. Your hips fuck in time with his fingers, your chasing the release and you don’t care if anyone else can hear you. Fujin’s confidence grows and he begins to match your hips. Pumping into you until you’ve both found a rhythm. “Oh my god… oh my god…” You moan as he fucks up into you and you move your hips in a circular motion. Your hand is digging into his shoulders, all the whilst one of his are working hard to make you cum, the other is supporting your hips and helping him to thrust up. You can feel your release coming. “I’m going to cum…” You moan loudly, leaning forward, trying to get just the right angle. Fujin breathily chuckles. “Do not hold back…” He whispers. “I need you to cum for me.” He states. And with that the band in your abdomen snap. You moan loudly, your hips rocking back and forth as you fuck out your release. Your cunt clenching around his cock tightly. As you rocked back and forth against his cock, you could feel his breathing becoming more and more laboured. His thrusts becoming more and more erratic. With a loud moan you felt him buck up into you before he came. “Y/N.” He whispered over and over again as a mantra, as he came deep inside of you. He fucked up into you a few last times, before you both fell forward. You laughed breathlessly, leaning back to see his hair was more a mess than it had been all day. His eyes still glimmered silver and were still devoid of pupils. “So…” You whisper. Only for Fujin to look up at you and lean up to catch your lips once more. The kiss is soft and tender. “That was… incredible. Tell me Y/N, are there any other Earthrealm customs you would like to show me?” He teases. You plant a kiss on his forehead, you can feel his cock hardening once more inside your sore cunt. You’re in for a long night… but then again, you did say falling in love with a god wasn’t for the faint of heart.

#Fujin #Fujin x reader #Mortal Kombat #Mortal Kombat x reader #mk #mk11 #mortal kombat 11

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adulttrio-imagines · 4 years

Note

Hey, you did a couple of headcanons of the adult trio amd how much they would care/react to their s/o leaving them. Could you please do a scenario where Hisoka see’s her for the first time post breakup? Like he wasn’t actively looking for her, but now that she’s here, might as well have some fun, right? Bonus points if she’s also a hunter. I love you and your writing this blog is a blessing. Keep up the great work!

“I wouldn’t have expected you to be here of all places, love.”

Fate is a funny thing. You remember thinking briefly. For just a moment, you could have sworn feeling time spinning to a stop as you became distinctly aware of the salt from the sea, the lightness of the breeze, the itch of the rough wood scratching against your bare thighs. Circumstances far beyond your control often came back in circles, perhaps to remind you of your own failings. As if you were nothing more than a balloon, floating blissfully in the sky, before the sudden uptake in pressure crushes you and send you tumbling to the ground.

It is impossible to hide the horror that creeps up your skin and burrows deep into your temples when you hear the low tone of his voice drag itself across your ear. Frozen in your seat, you could only struggle to calm your breaths as he crept up from behind like a thief in the night, casually leaning against the back of the bench as the overwhelming scent of his sickening sweet perfume flooded your senses, allowing panic to creep in.

He grabs a fistful for your hair in his clawed hands, absentmindedly running his fingers through them, slowly inhaling the fresh scent of your shampoo before tossing it away. “It’s been far too long, don’t you say?”

You visibly stiffen, and you can tell he’s smiling, even without looking. You hadn’t expected to see him here, of all places. A quiet little beach town, secluded from major cities and surrounded by thick lush forest and mangroves. Cold sweat brews at the crown of your head, and you twist your hands into the fabric of your clothes to hide the shaking. You had hid your channels, you were so sure you did. Weeks of planning in an effort to erase your existence didn’t come easy, but you thought you succeeded, and had finally won, running away to hide here, undisturbed, away from the hunters, the mafia, and most importantly, from him.

“I can’t say it’s nice to see you again.” Somehow, you find your voice. It’s hoarse from shock, but stronger than how you actually feel. Staring out into the ocean envelops you with a sense of confidence you haven’t had in a long time. You don’t bother turning to face him, even when he leans in close enough that his nose brushes against your ear and his breath is hot down your neck. His nen hasn’t changed a bit, and it swirls around you like poisoned tendrils, crooning veiled threats in your ear. He’s itching for a fight, impatiently shifting from foot to foot as he leans into your ear.

“That makes one of us.” You feel his eyes eating you up, as his nen strokes the curves of your ankles and slowly make their way up to your knees. Even dressed in simple, loose fitting clothes does he leer strangle the breath out of your lungs, and you’re briefly thrown back in time, a cloud of poison squeezing you like rotten fruit as you struggle against his violent choke, squashing out every last bit of fight you had in you.

Your eyes are watering, why is everything getting so dark? It’s hard to breathe, you can’t-

“You’re disgusting.” You motion to move away but he grabs you by the arm, and pulls you back down.

“That’s a terrible thing to say, darling. After how you left me, you can’t expect me to just let you go just like that-“

“Don’t you dare touch me.” The fragile sense of control you have desperately tried to maintain snaps in two. And your own nen explodes in such force that surprises even you, the air itself shimmering from the heat, and a sick sense of pleasure croons within you when shock briefly flashed across his face.

“So, so touchy.” He tuts, regaining composure immediately and withdraws his hand, but remains where he stood, “you still make it very difficult for me to love you.”

You scoff.

“Why is what I do, never enough to satisfy you?”

He smiles, play cards disappearing into thin air. “You’re just impossible for me to love.”

You finally turn to face him, and he looks the same, as if time has stopped flowing for him (it has for a long time). You decide he’s a little less boyish, the broadness of his shoulders better filling out his chest, the blue hair he sports reminds you of the rippling waves at sea and you hate that he now represents another thing you’ve grown to love. But the cruel mocking in his eyes and the way his lips curl haven’t changed since the day you met him.

“If you truly wanted me, you would have found me years ago. Now,” your own nen flares dangerously, slick and potent with rage, and you feel disgust rise in you as sick pleasure twists the handsome features of his face, “What do you want from me?”

He eyes you with an unreadable gaze, and turns to the ocean, letting loose an uncharacteristic sigh, as if you’re overreacting, as if every word, every hit, every warped action he did that corrupted your very sense of self meant nothing (it doesn’t to him).

“I just want to talk.” He finally says, pulling out a worn deck of cards, lazily shuffling through them in easy repetitive motions. You smother the urge to knock them out of his hands.

“Tell me the truth.”

“I am. I’m just here to talk.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” There’s nothing left to say.

He peers curiously at you, yellow eyes glinting under the earning morning sun as he places the cards down on his lap.

“Do you hate me?”

“Yes.” And of course you do, you do, you do. You hate him so much that it breaks you in two and burns everything around you to ash.

His draws a queen of hearts from the deck, absentmindedly twirling it between fingers. “Why do you lie to yourself?”

“It’s the truth. If you can’t accept that it’s not my problem.” To your amazement, your feet don’t shake when you stand up.

“If I can do this,” you remember thinking when you ran away, “I can do anything.”

He doesn’t stop you this time, you follow his gaze and look at the sky. It’s so blue, so vast, so bright, looking at it makes the aching hurt in your chest bloom with such vigor that your vision blurs.

“I really did l-.”

“Stop.” You hold his gaze, a strange coolness wets your cheeks. You’ve decided you didn’t want to hear this. You didn’t want to know this, didn’t want to process this, for hearing his words, hearing him say what you desperately wanted to hear all those years ago would unravel every single thread you’ve sewn to mend the fractured pieces of your sanity back together. Piece by wretched piece, you strung them all back together, even when the needles pierced your skin and your blood stains everything a deep red. At the end of it all, there was no meaning in forcing yourself to hold on to the broken fragments of your relationship

He reaches out to hold your hands, but you hastily bring them behind your back. You don’t need his comfort. You didn’t it then, you don’t need them now.

Instead, you force yourself to look him in the eye. They hold the same exact shade of gold that you love. You loved him, you loved him so much that every gentle touch, every soft smile, every shared joke, every time his lips brush against yours brings back unsaid memories of haunting violence laced with bitter words and stinging slaps that remind you of haunting nights where painful shrieks pool at the base of your throat and you would faint from the exhaustion of it all, burning yourself alive in an attempt to keep up with him.

Until you eventually arose from the ashes, struggling for breath, and flew far, far away to where he could never hurt you again.

And even now, even when you finally face him as an equal (it’s a lie, he sold his humanity a long time ago), you cannot find it in yourself to spill those hurtful words you wanted to all those years ago.

And for years, it was only silence.

He could have found you if he wanted, but he didn’t. Like everything else, you just weren’t worth his time.

You look at the sky again, the salt from the sea mingling with the sweetness of chopped coconuts as the laughter of children fills you with so much warmth that you actually smile when you look at him.

He hasn’t changed at all. From his elaborate clothes, to the painted highlights of his cheeks, while time stood still for him, it continued to flow for you, building you walls and your strength, so that you could now see him for what he always was.

“I’m a different person now, and I won’t play your games anymore.”

Bonus:

You can see the brief flash of confusion in his eyes as opens his mouth to challenge your words, but as if on cue, a high voice sounds.

“Mama! Mama!” Down from the beach, a chubby toddler with wavy tresses bounces up to the both of you, wide smile from ear to ear, proudly showing off a collection of shells in their bucket. Their cheeks are full and pink from the sun, the freckles climbing their shoulder a beautiful shade of brown as they stumbled clumsily on stubby feet. They stop short upon realizing your company, quickly scrambling to hide behind you as they peek up at the strange man.

You scoop them into your arms before Hisoka could react, protectively shielding them from him. His eyes flit between the both of you, and you see them narrow when they land on your child, who can only curiously return his gaze with bright amber eyes.

“Mama?” You feel your child’s hands curl hesitantly around your shirt, confused by the tension stretched taut between the both of you. Before you could answer, Hisoka cuts you off.

“Is this what you want?” He asks, getting to his feet.

“Yes, it is.” You didn’t even realize you had been holding your breath until he turns away, a shadow of a smile dancing on his lips.

“How cruel.”

#hunter x hunter #hxh #hisoka #my writings #uhm #i tried the usual route but just wasnt feeling it so #hope this is alright #spoiler:#daddy hisoka?#more likely than you think ;)

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vmheadquarters · 4 years

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We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty-One of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @DRiver2u. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.22 from @amypc1 - tag, you’re it!

—————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE by @DRiver2u

The noise in the room was a low pulse of small groups talking among themselves. The conversations were not enthusiastic or lighthearted, but the former classmates were speaking just to have something to do. Whenever the din let up, someone new took over with a tale from the exploits of high school past. No one wanted to admit that, now they had eaten, there was time to start exploring the mansion for a murderer.

Hovering off to the side, as she so often did in social situations, Veronica's thoughts were exploding as quickly as she felt her ankle swelling. Her injury didn't hurt as much as she thought it should, and she wondered if she was in shock, rather than having an actual physical ailment. She plotted about how to move to another part of the house, so she could test the theories running through her brain. The crowded space in her mind needed an escape, and if she was being honest with herself, it wasn't the only part of her that needed a release.

She caught Logan's eye as he looked up from the drone of Casey's story, and she gave a quick tip of her head towards the direction of the kitchen. "Meet me there," she mouthed from across the room as she pointed with her pinky finger. She assessed her wonky situation and dropped her elevated foot, rolled to her stomach, and one-legged-downward-facing-dog walked herself to a standing position. For a moment, she steadied herself, using one flat foot and the tips of her toes on the other before trying her balance. She hobbled on her bad ankle and made a comment under her breath, just loud enough for the scrum of former classmates in the middle of the room to hear her complain.

"You rang," Logan quipped, as he turned to see her push through the kitchen door. "Or muttered, I guess would be more accurate." He watched as she moved from limping to balancing herself on the kitchen counter, and then doing a half-twisting boost onto the island. The gymnastics of the moves were worthy of more than a participation certificate. Logan studied her as she forced out a sigh and regained her composure. His mind filled with other uses for those skills. "Your powers never cease to amaze."

"I need some ice for my ankle, but I've been thinking, and I might want to reconsider something," Veronica cooed as her finger made its way between her teeth. Before Logan could head towards the freezer, she commanded, "Come closer."

Logan advanced and slid between her dangling legs. Veronica's citrus shampoo, the acid from the tomato ragu, and the yeast from a green bottle of Heineken left near the Belfast sink sent mixed signals to his brain. This wasn't the time or the place, what with the dead bodies, secret passages, and unknown assailants only a few feet from what he hoped would be their suction-cupped bodies, but he couldn't stop the fantasies entering his brain. Veronica stared into his eyes, hoping he would be able to read her mind. The drip of the faucet and the hiss of the radiator under the stained glass windows broke their silence.

As Logan leaned in to kiss the blonde in front of him, he felt the cool thickness of the marble countertop as it hit him just below his waistband. His mouth hovered near her lips, but he turned his head and teased her with the breeze that swept by her mouth. She grabbed the back of his neck demanding to be closer to him, to touch his sweetness. He was stronger than her, and pulled back, watching as her eyes slid shut. As his hands wrapped around her waist and his thumbs pushed into her hips, she let out a small whimper and her breathing quickened.

It was the panting and the moaning that made him pull her closer. He wanted this, she wanted this, but they had made a deal to slow things down this time. He could wait. Could he wait? Anticipation was a hell of an aphrodisiac.

When he finally kissed her, would she taste like roasted garlic, red wine, dried Parmesan cheese, or chocolate mousse? Whatever was left of their dinner would be lost as his mind cleared of all but the softness of her lips. Logan gazed into Veronica's eyes before kissing her wordlessly. Only seconds later, Veronica released her hands from his hair and scrambled to tug his thermal base layer from the waist of his trousers and ran her hands towards his brawny chest, feeling multiple indentations as her fingers spread.

"We need to reconsider that we may have only two days left to live, so three dates seems too long to wait to get naked," she said, at a much higher volume than Logan found desirable. He tilted his head as he tried to shake the noise and vibration out of his eardrum.

"I think you're out of practice on the whispering of sweet nothings," Logan grumbled. "The key to that phrase being 'whispering', sugarpuss."

Veronica reached up and took his face in her hands, then bent the side of his head towards her mouth. "We're being watched, right?" Logan nodded his head and wondered if this new taste for voyeurism would be part of their future escapades. He swallowed at the thought and caught himself breathing harder than only a few seconds ago. Veronica continued her train of thought in his ear. "Let's find out if this is really about us. They're watching, so if they see us, uh you know, all hot and heavy, they may try to break in and stop it."

Logan dropped his head, realizing this was nothing more than part of the game, part of her desire to solve this riddle. "I don't know if I feel like a mark, the bait, or a damsel in distress." He swallowed and took a deep breath.

Veronica kissed him softly and met his eyes. She didn't need words to explain to him that her brain was working overtime. It wasn't desire he had seen in her eyes when they started this rendezvous. But it was passion--just not the kind of passion he was hoping to experience.

"Enid Curtis," Veronica whispered again and gave him a mischievous smile before returning to his ear. "How many people do you know who are named Enid? Not one, I bet. Enid Curtis and Mason. Flip them letters around and what'd ya get? DIES UNROMANTICS." She gave him a quick kiss at his temple, but she wanted to give him a high five.

Logan chuckled before bending his head and raising his eyes to meet hers. "A bit of a grammar cock up, wouldn't you say?" He paused and tilted his head until his mouth met her ear, his hands continued to meander under her shirt. "If you're going to slip down the Enid path, it seems impossible not to bring up Tennyson. You should know to leave the English stuff to me."

Veronica inched away from him and stared at Logan. "So, you think there's a book on one of the shelves by Alfred, Lord Tennyson that'll help solve this riddle?" she asked in a low voice.

"Well, I'm more of a Keats guy myself, but it's tough not to respect a guy who came up with the lines, and I'm paraphrasing here, 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all' and 'Theirs is not to reason why. Theirs is but to do and die'." Logan turned the words over in his mind. Loss and death weren't nearly as appealing to him as Keats' haunting words about beauty, joy, love, and truth.

"Yeah, it's the 'do and die' part that makes me a bit worried," Veronica chided. "And what's that got to do with Enid?"

"I'm saying that Tennyson wrote Idylls of the King. In it is a poem about the perfect love Enid has for her husband." Veronica stared blankly at him before he continued. "He gets jealous, but she stays faithful. He thinks she cheated, but she stays faithful. He treats her like dirt, but she stays faithful. Seeing a pattern?"

"So Enid is perfect?" Veronica asked with a sly smile.

"It used to be a real compliment for a woman to be referred to as an 'Enid'," Logan remembered from a group project about Victorian poets. Who knew those trivialities might one day prove to be important?

Logan continued after a small pause, clearing his throat. "Oh, and Tennyson influenced the Pre-Raphaelite artists with his sumptuous verses. God, they painted some majestic stuff. Dead women, lots of flowing hair, unrequited love. Come to think of it, one was even of Enid, I think." He smiled at the idea of his mother and said, "First ones I saw were at Andrew Lloyd Webber's estate, because my mom dragged me there when she was desperate to get a part in a possible West End Cats revival."

"Keats, Tennyson, and Raffi," Veronica scrambled, only half listening to the other voice in the room. "I don't see the connection. Unless someone thinks I'm the perfect mate?" Veronica's mind danced with the knowledge that she may have an admirer rather than a stalker. She heard Logan snicker and watched as he shook his head.

"Raphaelites, bobcat, but who am I to doubt the perfect bit," he mocked with a chuckle. "Maybe Enid and Tennyson mean nothing. Maybe you were on the right track with the scrambled letters. Or maybe this mysterious host is telling you to ask others for help with this riddle. 'There's no I in team', 'It takes teamwork to make the dream work', 'Collaborate before we evaporate'. Etcetera, etcetera."

Veronica squinted at him, but only grunted out a, "Huh?"

"OK, maybe I made some of those up," Logan laughed. "But we're all here for a reason, and I don't think it's just to be dead bodies, cute faces, or red herrings." They both stayed quiet a moment and realized their musings had blown their cover. Their so-called tryst had turned into a book club.

"Ice," Veronica directed, and Logan grabbed the hand towel near the stove as he sauntered towards the industrial-sized refrigerator. "But now what?"

"Lead on, perfect Enid," he quipped. He took a deep breath as he felt Veronica going back into her brain. "OK. If you want to stick with rearranging letters, we can do that, but I prefer NUDES IS ROMANTIC."

#veronica mars #veronica mars fanfic #vm fanfic #vmhq presents #murder we wrote #round robin

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drowning-in-dennor · 5 years

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Answers

The gang's all here to answer your burning questions! Whether it’s the Oxenstiernas or the Wangs, or your favourite couples, they’re ready to face whatever inquiries you might have! [Written to celebrate two hundred and fifty followers.]

Question One: Literally anything about Bogden please uwu

Bogden: ...this isn’t really a question.

[Aleksander claps Bogden on the shoulder.]

Aleksander: Oh, whatever, just be glad we’re getting attention!

Bogden: Well, okay, but this is pretty weird. I mean, do they want to hear about my personal life, or my relationships, or -

[Aleksander muffles Bogden’s mouth with his hand.]

Aleksander: HIS MIDDLE NAME IS BORIS AND HIS BIRTHDAY IS THE THIRD OF MARCH ALSO HE REALLY LIKES YOGHURT AND HE REALLY LIKES ROSES AND ROSE-FLAVOURED STUFF OH AND HE HAS A PET BUNNY, IS THAT ENOUGH INFO?

Question Two: So what does the butter boy love doing the most with Henrik?

Stellan: I assume I’m ‘the butter boy’.

Henrik, sarcastically: Oh, no, I’m sure it’s Harald, or anyone but the one who stress-baked six hundred butter cookies after a final one day and mailed them to every person in the city!

[Stellan kicks Henrik under the table.]

Stellan: Well, to answer your question, I just love it when we cuddle while watching the sunset. We’re usually sitting outside, in this rocking swing we have in our front yard, watching the sky get painted all these pretty colours. It’s the most amazing feeling in the world to be able to see something so lovely with the person you care for the most.

[Henrik turns red.]

Henrik: Y-Yeah, those are really happy times. Holy fuck, I love you so much.

Question Three: What does Berwald like doing with Henrik?

Berwald: Fighting.

Henrik: Sometimes we just crack open a beer and talk about our husbands because we’re both awesomely lucky men. Then Stell has to pick me up the next morning while I’m hungover.

Berwald: Or we design some furniture together.

Henrik: We used to assemble IKEA stuff together until that time I screwed the legs of a chair on wrong and accidentally created a monster.

Question Four: Harald, how do you feel about Henrik and Stellan’s relationship?

Harald: When they got together all those years ago, I was too young to remember much, but when I got older and they got sappier, it was pretty annoying. Like, I’d be having breakfast, and they’d be across the table cuddling or something.

Stellan: Were we that bad?

[Harald crosses his arms.]

Harald: Yes, you were that bad. When you started high school it got even more annoying, because you two would be fucking like rabbits while poor me was right next door.

Henrik: Oh, yeah! We were pretty loud, huh?

Harald: Now, though, they have their own house, so I don’t really care. I get a cool brother-in-law, and Stell has a husband. Works out for both of us.

Question Five, from @kyrakira: What wouwd Stewwan wike mowwe? a pwug ow a couch owo?

[Stellan falls off his chair.]

[Henrik slams his fist on the table and bursts into laughter.]

Stellan, climbing back onto his chair: First of all, I hate how I understand what you’re saying. Second of all, I’d say the plug.

Henrik: HOLY -

Stellan: Fucking a piece of furniture is not as pleasant as it sounds, kids. Don’t try it at home.

Question Six: To Agata: sweet mother, I cannot focus; slender Aphrodite has overcome me with longing for a girl, how not die?

Agata: Nothing you can do about it. You will look at your pretty girl, and you will have an internal heart attack.

[Tille giggles.]

Agata: You know how I met Tille? I was riding my bike, I saw her. She was pretty. I hit her with my bike.

Tille: You cried, you big kitty cat.

Agata: Yes, I cried. I was overwhelmed by your beauty.

Tille: Aww.

Agata: So, you see a pretty girl, you’re helpless to her charms. Too bad. I can’t help.

Question Seven: How close and warm are y'all nordicks? óuò

Henrik: ...I assume that means us?

[Harald cringes.]

Harald: What the hell is that cursed emoji?

Berwald: You mean emoticon.

Harald: Whatever.

Tino: To answer your question, we go over to each others’ houses for dinner every Friday! Sometimes we do it with Leon’s family, too.

Henrik: It’s really awesome! But when Stellan gets a little too competitive with Vicente, things can get, er, messy.

[Stellan throws up his hands.]

Stellan: The egg tart situation was one time, Henrik! ONE TIME!

Question Eight: To any of you, when was the last time you cried in front of a lot of people?

Antonio: Gilbert made a face at me in the middle of a presentation, and I laughed so hard I cried.

Ludwig: Pochi...

[Ludwig buries his face in his hands.]

Ludwig: Pochi just tottered up to me and jumped in my lap. It was adorable.

Kiku: Then I cried because Pochi betrayed me for him.

Feliciano: Then I cried because Tama scratched me. I still have the scar.

Question Nine: Harald, out of everyone in your family, who's death would you find most disturbing and why?

[Harald’s eyes widen.]

Harald: Why would you ask something like that? What on earth is wrong with you? Any of their deaths would be disturbing, by the way. I don’t think I could ever bear to see any of them die before me.

[He sniffles and reaches in his pocket for a tissue.]

[Henrik jumps, scowling darkly.]

Henrik: Okay, who made Harald cry?

Harald: Wait —

[Stellan joins Henrik and raises a fist.]

Stellan: They’ll have hell to pay for this.

Harald: ...I love you guys.

Question Ten: Henrik and Stellan, how are your relationships with your parents?

Henrik: Oh, we get along just fine! They were a little shocked when I brought Stellan home for the first time, but not any more.

Stellan: Between Henrik and Leon, mine have, well, resigned themselves to the fact that they most likely will not have biological grandchildren.

Henrik: We’re not sure if we’re gonna adopt just yet, but if we do, I’m sure our folks would be thrilled!

Question Eleven: To Al, Matt, Arthur, Francis, Ivan and Yao, what are your favorite memories about school?

Yao: Well, it has to be every prize-presentation ceremony at the end of each year. I went on stage every time!

Alfred: Yo, stop flexing, we know you’re a genius already.

[Arthur smiles, clearly lost in his memories.]

Arthur: My time at the school’s literature club was truly unforgettable. I was the president, if you must know, and I finally got an excuse to hide in the library all the time and read.

[Francis laughs.]

Francis: Ah, surely I thought your dearest memory would be of that one time you thought you were carrying around a copy of Pride and Prejudice, but was in reality holding a very saucy volume of Victorian er —

Arthur: HEY, ALFRED! You never told us about your favourite memory!

[Alfred jumps, accidentally smacking Yao on the shoulder. Yao gives him a withering glare.]

Alfred: Oh, yeah. It’s got to be when the soccer team won the last game of the semester, in my senior year! Dang, just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes.

Matthew: And speaking of competitions, when I got first place in the school’s public speaking competition in grade seven, I completely lost it.

Alfred: You screamed, then hugged me so tightly I saw spots afterwards.

Matthew: I’ll never forget how it felt to win something for the first time.

Francis: My time with Yao in our school’s cooking club was magnificent. Yao, my friend, do you remember the mooncake project?

[Yao perks up.]

Yao: Yes, when we experimented to see how to make mooncakes less oily? That was fun. I still use that recipe to make mooncakes now.

Matthew: Hey Ivan, you haven’t talked yet. What’s your favourite memory?

Ivan: My favourite memory? Let me think, now...

[Ivan taps his chin.]

Ivan: Meeting you all at the very start of the year, that was amazing.

Alfred: Oh, you big teddy bear!

Arthur: We love you too.

[The six of them collapse in a group hug. The sound of chairs falling fills the room.]

Question Twelve: Out of everyone, who was a dropout and who finished college?

Alfred: I, uh, never went to college. Just decided to go “fuck the system” and started a food cart that I still wheel around the States. If you wanna see me, look for Stars and Stripes!

Matthew: Like Francis, I survived culinary school, but unlike Francis, I only got a degree in the pastry arts.

[Francis rubs his temples.]

Francis: None of you have ever experienced pain until you’ve been through egg day. Nine hundred eggs, all gone to waste because the Chef thought they were bad!

Arthur: I got my degree in English literature at Oxford, and to this day I’m still surprised that I managed to get in.

Yao: I have a degree in medicine, but it’s pretty useless since I run my diner now. By the way, check out Wang’s if you have the time!

[Ivan rubs the back of his head sheepishly.]

Ivan: I got arrested in the middle of college. Now, I just help my sister run her store!

Feliciano: Kiku and I both went to art school! I went to culinary school with Francis after that, though.

Kiku: My student loans haunt me to this day.

Ludwig: It surprises a lot of people, but I dropped out of college while Gilbert’s the one with the degree.

Henrik: I went to a super-obscure course, namely the textile arts. Most people don’t even know it’s a degree!

Stellan: I got a degree in creative writing at John Hopkins in the US.

Berwald: Went to trade school.

Tino: I don’t really remember much about college. I just remember a lot of coffee, screaming and complaining.

Question Thirteen: What do you love most about yourself, Henrik, Berwald and Stellan? uwu

Stellan: The next person to use “uwu” will have their spleens removed.

Berwald: Very threatening.

Henrik: Well, what I wuv mowost abowouwut mwysewelf is howow I’m able to awways pwiss owoff my bowoyfewnd!

Berwald: What.

[Stellan gets up.]

Stellan: I love you, but say “uwu” again and you’re sleeping on the couch.

Henrik: Why, uwu?

Stellan: OH, THAT’S IT —

[Henrik flees from Stellan.]

Berwald: I love that I married a sane person.

Question Fourteen: Why do you like your best friend, Tino? 3:

Tino: Oh you mean Ed? Well, we’ve been friends since forever, first of all, and we’ve stuck together no matter what! He’s helped me with homework and bullies and all that stuff since we were kids, and I’ve done the same. Best of all, he encouraged me to ask Berwald out, and thanks to him I now have an awesome husband!

[Nearby, Eduard is sobbing.]

Eduard: I love you too!

Question Fifteen: If a=b, multiply by a to get a²=ab, subtract b² to get a²-b²=ab-b², factor them (a+b)(a-b)=b(a-b), cancel a-b, and since a=b the equation is now 2b=b or 2=1; why does math exist? @the Wangs

Leon: ...what?

Vicente: I think I lost half my brain cells just by reading that.

Ling: This is bringing back trauma from school, and that question doesn’t even make sense.

Yao: I’m too old for this crap.

Leon: But to answer your question, math exists because once upon a time some asshole decided to invent numbers and make our lives difficult.

Ling: Seconded.

Vicente: Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re off to make dinner.

Question Sixteen: Stellan, what's the most difficult decision you've had to make to see your dreams come true?

Stellan: Ohhh, that’s a hard one. I’ve had to make a lot of sacrifices to become the person I am today. But if I had to pick, it’d be picking John Hopkins over Oslo Uni, and leaving Harald and Henrik behind. It was worth it, though, since now I’m happy and successful and I can’t have asked for more.

Harald: Aww, I love you too, you bastard.

Question Seventeen: Which family does Peter belong to?

Arthur: He lives with the Oxenstiernas, which is fine with both of us.

Tino: Artie couldn’t handle Peter after his parents passed, so it started out with Ber just babysitting him. But after the two of us got married, Arthur decided to put Peter up for adoption so he could become our son!

Niklas: It was a great decision.

Berwald: What?

Niklas: I mean, it was a terrible decision because now I’m stuck with an awesome — er, annoying — brother for the rest of my life.

Question Eighteen: What do you think is the best thing about your personality, Berwald?

Berwald: Uh...

[He stares off into the distance.]

Berwald: Uhhh...

Tino: Well, I love how everyone’s so intimidated by you, but you’re so snuggly and sweet in reality!

[Berwald appears to stop breathing.]

Berwald: Thanks.

Question Nineteen: To Alfred, Gilbert and Henrik: what’s the dumbest yet smartest thing you’ve ever done?

Alfred: Dang, that’s a hard one. I’d say the time we threw a dictionary out of the car window, just because.

Gilbert: No, the time we put a block of frozen maple syrup into Matt’s showerhead. But then we got yelled at, so maybe not.

Henrik: How about when we tried to brûlée salt and set off the fire alarm?

[The three of them consider.]

Gilbert: Yoo, what about the frying pan thing?

Henrik: Oh, riiiiight, the frying pan thing!

Alfred: So basically, we put a frying pan on the heart for too long and it melted. Then it turned out that the frying pan was made with unsafe material! That’s kinda smart, I guess.

Question Twenty: Which one of you (anyone ig) has a choking fetish?

[The entire room erupts into chaos.]

Harald: OH MY GOODNESS!

Leon: Who the hell asked this!?

Alfred: You know what? Y’all need Jesus.

[Someone hits the camera and it switches off.]

...

A/N: Yes I know I’m very unfunny but I hope this was at least the tiniest bit fun to read

#i'm not going to fucking tag this #aph fanfiction #my writing

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acraftedmistake · 5 years

Text

A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM

Chapter 1! Enjoy~! :0c

“This is stupid.” Olivia muttered under her breath.

“Says you, I think this is the best thing we’ve done in a while!” Jesse said happily as he carefully maneuvered his way through the jungle’s thick leaves. The air was warm and thick enough to cut through, the area carried a scent similar to freshly cut grass; the vibrant greens complimented the cool and calming indigo night sky.

“We’ve saved multiple worlds from multiple dimensions multiple times. A jungle temple is pretty mediocre compared to what we’ve done before.” she grumbled while yawning, upset that her friend convinced her to join him on this little exploration so late, the regret and drowsiness catching up to her and slowing her down more and more.

“Look out for the spiderwebs!”

“The wha-” Olivia stopped dead in her tracks and sputtered, feeling a thin, slicky string wrap around her face. She shook her head violently while trying to pull off the practically invisible materialy on her; she gagged, thinking she got it in her mouth, though it could easily be her hair or imagination. Jesse jumped and quickly rushed over to her to help get the web off of her.

“Okay, all off!” He assured her, sighing with relief. Olivia still felt the spider’s web’s presence on her and shuttered.

“That’s it, I’m going back home.” The girl huffed as she turned around, only to have Jesse’s hand promptly grab her shoulder.

“We’re only a few feet away, after we go in and look we can leave right away, I promise!” Jesse pleaded as he motioned his arm north, a faint green glow coming from an area that couldn’t have been no more than a few meters away. She gave her friend a look and asked

“Why did you have to bring me along?”

“Well,” Jesse began without skipping a beat, “I read about these temples having little lever puzzles and redstone tactics that are super ancient and I thought you’d like checking that out!”

Olivia blinked a few times, staring at Jesse for a moment. His eyes glowed with joy and his smile didn’t twitch.

Sighing, she began walking again, “Well, let’s go, the temple won’t explore itself.”

Jesse mouthed a “Yesss!” as he walked beside her.

A few minutes of walking in silence--with the sounds of the jungle making the scenario a little less awkward--they knew they were getting closer and closer to their location, the saturated emerald green light practically blinding them, forcing Jesse to shield his eyes; Olivia placed the goggles on her hat over her eyes. They could only make out bits of the temple, such as it’s medieval-esque exterior. Old, worn down flags with strange symbols--that didn’t look like anything the two recognized--decorated the walls and the large, moss covered cedar door, which had its steel handles removed.

It was quite small in size, the huge, gaping hole in the roof made it appear even smaller as the trees’ thick leaves and tangled vines consumed sections of the temple.

“Probably monsters in there.” Olivia said under her breath with uncertainty, looking up a bit in an attempt to see more of the ancient building.

Jesse drew out his sword, “That’s never stopped us before!”

As they approached the massive door, chunks of the building and trees managed to block out the vibrant light, giving the two friends time to have their eyes adjust to the darkness once more and be able to properly observe the area.

“Man, time has not been kind place, has it?” Olivia huffed as she studied the structure. Glass was broken, blocks were missing, arrows covered in cobwebs stuck out from the wall, it felt as if it was all going to collapse on them in any given second.

“Gotta wonder what the inside looks like.” Jesse reached out for one of the damaged door knobs and pushed in, only to have the door itself fall forward and shatter into hundreds of tiny pieces. They cringed as the booming sound of the crash echoed throughout the abandoned temple, afraid they had awoken any sleeping creatures. Slowly creeping their way in, the floorboards creaking under their weight, they kept an eye out for any traps, monsters, or the source of the green glow.

“How did you find this in the first place?” the girl whispered as she clenched her fists, the inside of the area looking like a haunted mansion. Spider webs, dimly lit torches, broken weapons, and even chunks of armor were scattered about, a strong, metallic smell took over, causing Oliva to gag. Broken levers and redstone smeared on the ground, which was more of a shade of brown than it’s usual dark red were placed in seemingly random patterns.

Despite what little was left of the room they were in, there was still a soft, moss covered carpet on the ground, leading to a fancy but worn down chair. The few tables and chairs were flipped over, vases were covered in dust or shattered, and paintings on the wall were torn or possibly burnt gave Olivia the impression that they were walking in the remains of a throne room. A throne room where a battle must’ve taken place.

“I was walking around yesterday during lunch and kind of... Ran into it. I was excited to explore it but I didn’t really want to do it alone, so I went back home to tell everyone about it but then I forgot, but- Woah! Look at that!” Jesse ran towards a corner of the room, he stared at a broken plank of wood where the blinding light was coming from.

“All this light from such a tiny opening...” he pulled the plank with a little force, a loud popping sound caused them to jump. Olivia took a few quick breaths, collecting herself.

Jesse pulled some more, a new scent began coming from underneath the floor, or maybe it was the jungle itself, but it was a sweet, pollen-like smell, feeling much more welcoming than the overpowered rustic one.

“Mind lending me a hand?”

“Oh, sure!” Olivia crouched down beside her friend and grabbed the old wood tightly, feeling small splinters stabbing her fingers. She bit the bottom of her lip, uneasy, she couldn’t shake off the thought that something was wrong with this place; opening her mouth to say something, the plank, much longer than they thought it was, flew off the poorly bolted floor and flug across the room. Olivia looked back at the wreckage, Jesse stared at the now bigger hole in the floor, more light pouring out and filling the area.

“Hey-” they both began at the same time, they paused and exchanged embarrassed glances.

“You go first,” Jesse insisted,

Olivia cleared her throat, “Uhm... Don’t you think this place is... Bizarre?”

“It’s a temple in the middle of some jungle, of course it’s going to be bizarre!”

“No no!” she shook her head, “I’ve never BEEN inside one of these before, but I’ve seen pictures of jungle temples before, and while they’re small, none of them were shaped like like THIS, none of them had flags or some weird, glowy green stuff coming out of it!. Plus! There were no mobs in here, or surrounding it! Don’t you find that a little weird?”

“... Maybe we... Lucked out?” Jesse shrugged awkwardly, Olivia sputtered in response.

“You think it’s ‘lucky’ that no mobs happened to appear in a DARK and ABANDONED temple in the middle of the NIGHT in a thick, spider web infested jungle?!” she waved her arms about.

There was a moment of silence, both were trying to figure out what to say next. Jesse thought for a second before speaking, “I don’t understand it either, but...” he motions towards the floor, “I think if we find the source of the light, we might get some answers.”

Jesse slipped one of his legs into the hole, avoiding any jagged wood or crooked nails sticking out, “There’s some old staircase down here. Looks a bit unstable but I’m sure as long as we’re careful, we’ll be okay.”

He sucked in his gut as he slid his way in, Olivia could hear him fall face first into the floor below them. Sighing and shaking her head, she squeezed through the hole and fell right on top of Jesse, who let out a small “Oof!”

“Sorry, I thought you already moved!” she frantically got up and adjusted her hat, helping her friend up.

“Nah, it’s okay. Let’s go!” the boy said as he tiptoed as fast as he could, his small steps echoing throughout the stone stairs each time his foot touched the ground. Two grey walls were on each side of the staircase, which gave the already thin stairwell feel even smaller. The pollen smell was getting stronger, almost making it hard to breathe in. The girl felt as if she was suffocating.

Tightening the strap around her goggles, she squinted her eyes to see how far ahead Jesse was, but a thick layer of fog devoured the area.

“Great, I’m blind AND can barely breathe-” Olivia let out a yelp she felt her foot touch the floor, thinking that for a second, she had missed a step. Catching her balance, she inhaled a hefty amount of the sickeningly sweet air, getting more and more nauseas by the second. Maybe the metallic smell from early was a blessing in disguise.

“You okay?” she heard her friend ask, before she could respond, Jesse turned and pointed to something in front of them, “Do you see that?”

Olivia looked up.

It was just a long, green, foggy hallway.

“Yeah. More walking down this creepy hallway. Amazing.”

“No! There’s something else, come on!” Jesse grabbed her hand and ran to the other end of the hall, Olivia stumbling behind, missing every other step. At first, all she could see was a thick layer of fog and the unholy green, but the farther they kept going, the more she could make out the dead end.

No, it wasn’t a deadend.

It looked like some bizarre painting that she couldn’t properly make out.

They kept running.

It wasn’t a painting.

“A portal...?” Olivia’s eyebrows shot up as they slowly came to a halt. It wasn’t the usual obsidian one she was used to, the blocks that were used appeared to be... Lapis? The entrance was emerald green and swirled about peacefully, it’s consistency reminding her of clouds in some odd way; it’d release small gusts of wind that’d brush against her face. At first, Olivia thought her eyes were deceiving her, maybe the pollen aroma was finally getting to her.

Sticking one hand through, Jesse shivered.

“A bit colder than I thought it would be.” he chuckled, giving her a small smile with a hesitant pair of eyes. “You coming?”

Olivia stared into the portal’s entrance, the wind swirling around her. Who knows where this would lead to. It could be paradise. It could be some terrifying monstrous kingdom. Or it could be an abyss. Gulping down her fears, she nodded, and with a confident voice she said “Let’s go.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The two leaped out of the portal and into the new world. There was no green light that consumed the area. There was no longer an active portal.

‘That’s gonna be a problem...’ Jesse thought to himself as he observed his surroundings. They appeared to be in another hallway, but this one was much more refined. The floors were made of oak and spruce wood, instead of the mossy, stone one they walked on before, the walls were noticeably wider, the ceiling was higher as well; Olivia felt much more at ease, more space and no stupid oder she had to constantly breathe in.

Turning to her left, she saw the walls were made up of stone bricks. They were still in tact and sturdy, but she also noticed carvings. It was hard to make out at first, they were quite thin, and the dark hallway didn’t help with that either, but they were odd swirls, figures, and shapes that vaguely reminded her of words, they were carefully engraved into the blocks.

“Jesse, you see this?”

Jesse walked to her side and brought himself closer to the wall.

“Wish I could read that, it’d be cool to know a bit of information about this world we’re in.”

Olivia nodded in agreement.

“There’s another staircase, maybe that leads to a way out of here.” Jesse said, looking ahead. Without wasting any time, they raced their way up the stairs, their eyes passing by hundreds upon hundreds of symbols on the wall. It seemed to tell a vague story, from what Olivia could make out. Maybe this old place is a library, or has a room full of books. Anything. There was no telling what lies ahead. She was praying that there’d be something she’d recognize when they’d reached the top of the stairs. Thinking about it, being lost in some unknown world, with a chance of being stuck there forever didn’t sound too appealing to her. Yes, they’ve been through similar adventures, but it was still a fear that crept in the back of her head.

“Did you say something?” Jesse asked, as the spacious stairs came to the end. He hunched over, panting, Olivia leaned against one of many pillars, also trying to catch her breath.

“Uh, no?” she said between gasps.

“I don’t think I even heard another voice.”

Jesse groaned and threw his hands up, “Great, not even five minutes into this new world and I’m already going insane, huh?”

Before Olivia could comment about their new location or Jesse’s sanity, she heard something. Jesse did too. Footsteps, and a very, VERY muffled voice. The friends looked down the hall decorated hall, it wasn’t too long, in fact, the door was only several feet away.

“What should we do??” Olivia whisper shouted, hearing the footsteps getting closer and closer.

“Hide behind the pillar, draw out your weapon.” he mouthed some words, but she still got the message. But a weapon... She didn’t have one on her. She did have a lever, however. Hiding behind the pillar with Jesse parallel to her, she clutched the lever tightly in her hand. Anything is a weapon if you’re skilled enough.

The talking got louder, it almost sounded like arguing, it was hard to tell, but the sound of the doorknob jiggled, causing the two of them to tense up.

Swinging open, Jesse peeked his head out from behind his little hiding spot and gasped.

“Aiden?!”

#minecraft #minecraft story mode #MCSM #jesse mcsm #oliva mcsm #aiden mcsm #story #fanfic #fan fiction #i have no idea what i'm doing #some things are definitely going to be wrong #but i hope you enjoy it anyways!!#APWHNPMCSMWASAMCSM #AU fic

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lostinamazon · 7 years

Text

I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)

Original work on Ao3! •

She’s falling.

The sky is dark, her heart is racing, her hands try to find something, someone to grab onto so she can save herself, but there’s nothing.

So she closes her eyes.

She opens her eyes.

Lena suddenly sits up, breathing heavily and gasping for air, throwing the sheets away from her body as she moves to sit on the edge of the bed until her feet are touching the cool hardwood floor.

She swallows, realizing her throat is dry at the same time she pushes her hair away from her face, noticing she’s also covered in sweat.

Lena sighs, running her hands over her face before glancing at the digital clock on her nightstand.

03:47.

“Fuck.“ She mumbles under her breath, standing up and walking slowly towards the bathroom, turning on the faucet and splashing some cool water on her face, before giving herself a good look in the mirror.

Lena thinks she looks like a ghost, even without make up she’s paler than usual, her crystal green eyes almost white.

She should’ve stayed in the office. She should’ve throw herself into work instead of coming home. If Lena could even call home this huge penthouse with a fucking pool by the living room, always empty save from herself and the cleaning staff that would usually come every couple of days to take care of her minimum mess.

Lena should’ve known the nightmares would come back to haunt her during her sleep.

She sighed once again and walked out of the bathroom, looking out of the glass windows to the city lights outside.

Lena felt so trapped inside her own head.

Then she cried.

•

If there’s one thing Kara will never get tired of on Earth, it’s the amazing powerful feeling after taking off into the sky.

Flying.

She feels free flying through the clouds in the morning, going up and up until she’s seeing the blue planet she now calls her home.

And after the sundown, Kara just hovers over the city, every little light down there a life, someone at least a little bit relieved for having Supergirl protecting National City.

Kara feels needed.

She takes a deep breath, small smile on her lips as she descends towards the city for her last nightly patrol. After accepting Guardian’s help, Kara has a slightly less pressure on her shoulders, even if she still worries about her friend. But she knows now she can’t be in control of everything. James is his own person, and she trusts him to make the right decisions for himself.

So tonight, Guardian’s patrolling the streets as she flies over National City. A team work, really.

It’s nearly eleven when she takes a quick turn to go home when Kara flies over the tall L-Corp building. She can’t help but use her x-ray vision to check if everything’s alright in there, especially after those last murder attempts towards the CEO. What the blonde didn’t expect was to see Lena still in her office, a wine glass in hand as she stood by the large glass windows, gaze fixed nowhere in particular, paperwork spread all over her desk.

Kara approached the building slowly, giving Lena a better look, and only then did she notice Lena had been crying. For some reason she didn’t want to interrupt the young CEO as Supergirl, not when Lena looked so vulnerable.

But what if Lillian had tried to contact her again?

Kara touched her icom softly, waiting for Winn to answer.

“Kara! I thought you were home already. Something wrong?” Winn asked quickly.

“Oh, no. I just… can you make a call for me? I left my phone home. I’m flying.” She explained, eyes still on Lena through the building’s concrete ceiling.

“Sure!” Winn said.

“It’s Lena.” Kara said, softly, as if Lena could hear her.

“Okay… done! As soon as I’m off you’ll have your call. Goodnight!”

He was off before Kara even had the time to thank him – for making the call and not asking any questions – when she saw Lena looking over her shoulder to the smartphone on her desk, reading Kara’s name with a frown. It looked as if Lena was wondering if it was a good idea to take the call or not, but after only a second she took the phone and swiperd her thumb over the green button on the screen.

“Kara?” Lena asked, clearly confused as to why the blonde would be calling her so late at night.

Kara took a deep breath and tried to make her best surprised impression. “L-Lena? Oh, my… I’m sorry. I was supposed to call my… my m-mom! Yes, I was calling my mom and of course my clumsy self pressed the wrong name and called you instead!” Kara laughed nervously.

Damn her lack of sneakyness.

But Lena only chuckled and nodded to herself, clearly buying Kara would be silly enough to call the wrong person. Kara felt relieved to see the tension leave Lena’s body, even if slightly.

“It happens.” The CEO said.

Kara smiled, biting her lip as she saw Lena moving to sit on the couch, phone still pressed against her ear.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Kara continued.

“I’m still at the office, actually.” Lena played with the hem of her shirt. “You probably want to talk to your mother…”

“Oh, no!” Kara said too quickly. “I mean, since I called you instead I may as well ask you how you’re doing? And what are you still doing at your office so late?”

Lena rubbed her face with her free hand, and Kara noticed how the muscles in her jaw were clenched. It looked as if she was in pain, but after a quick check up, the blonde didn’t notice anything wrong in Lena’s body.

“I had some work to do.” Lena said quietly, and it didn’t take superhearing or x-ray vision to notice she was lying.

“Right.” Kara said back just as quietly.

“Maybe we could have dinner tomorrow? Are you free?”

“Yes, I’m free for you.”

Kara tried her best to ignore the warm feeling in the pit of her stomach after Lena’s words. Biting her bottom lip, Kara nodded dumbly before realizing Lena couldn’t see her.

“Right! Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow then!” She said, smiling despite herself.

“Tomorrow.”

That night when she went to sleep, Kara still had Lena’s sad face in her mind, and she was determined to find out what was wrong with the CEO.

•

So Kara knew something was wrong with Lena. She just couldn’t not notice it, after quick furtive glances towards the Luthor.

How Lena looked around at the mass of people in the streets as they walked quickly to where her driver was waiting for them. She seemed on alert, her heart racing inside her chest, hand clenched around her purse.

Kara noticed the way Lena tightned her jaw when they walked inside the elevator earlier, and how she breathed in relief when the metal doors opened. She had asked then which restaurant they were going to, and Lena apologized and said it would be better if they just settled for her penthouse, where she already had a chef working on something for the two.

Kara had never been to Lena’s penthouse before, so she said yes, obviously. And because she realized Lena just wanted to go home because that’s where she felt safe.

“Are you okay?” Kara asked softly as the driver started moving the car.

Lena gave her a tight lipped smile, nodding.

“Sure. Just hungry, I guess.”

Kara knew Lena was lying, and she knew Lena knew, but the blonde only nodded back and kept silent for the rest of the way to Lena’s condo.

After passing through a very complicated hightech security sistem and two steel reinforced doors, they finally stepped inside Lena’s home. To say Kara was surprised would be an understatement. Lena’s penthouse wasn’t like anything she had ever imagined.

It was so big, surrounded by glass windows and high ceilings and a pool by the living room. The furniture was mostly white with touches of wooden colour, warm lighting and very expensive looking art pieces, she was really scared of breaking anything.

“Wow, Lena… your house is… is…” Kara choked, trying to come up with something to say as the blue of the water in the pool reflected in her glasses.

“It’s so big it makes you feel claustrophobic?” Lena tried to help, sad smile back on her lips.

Kara shook her head, turning to look at Lena who was watching her carefully, maybe afraid Kara changed her mind and decided she wanted to leave and go home. And again she was left wondering what happened with the confidence Lena used to exhale off of her body.

Maybe no one noticed the small changes in Lena Luthor but Kara always would.

“Considering my whole apartment probably would fit inside your pool, I was going to say it’s awesome!” Kara laughed lightly, approaching Lena as she said that.

The young CEO smiled back a little more relaxed and motioned for somewhere behind her. “We should probably see if dinner is ready. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

“I always am, you know that.” Kara wondered she should probably feel ashamed Lena knew that, but it actually made them feel that much closer, strange as it is.

Lena lead her through a large hallway with white walls and colourful paintings, pointing a few every now and then until they reached the also large kitchen, where a bearded man in a chef’s coat was already setting up the table.

Kara felt Lena stop abruptly by her side at the sight of the red headed man. She heard Lena’s heart start to pound erratically inside her chest as she stepped in front of Kara’s body, hands closed in fists by her side.

Before she could ask what was wrong, Lena spoke in na nervous whisper, “Where’s Pierre?”

Kara looked from Lena to the man, noticing that despite his huge frame, he too felt suddenly nervous under Lena glare.

“I-I… I’m Greg, ma’am…” he stuttered, looking everywhere but directly at Lena’s piercing green eyes, droplets of sweat starting to form on his temples.

“What… are you… doing here?” Lena asked again between her clenched teeth.

“Lena…” Kara tried to calm Lena down by placing a hand around her wrist, while Greg tried to keep explaining.

“Pierre’s daughter was sick, ma’am, so he asked me to cover for him.” Greg said still looking down.

“You’re a liar… You’re a complete liar and I want you to get out of my house right now before I call the police!” Lena started in another whisper but by the end of it she was already screaming angrily towards a now very small Greg, her entire body shaking in adrenaline as she prepared herself to jump on top of the poor man.

Kara quickly wrapped her arms around Lena, preventing her for doing something stupid.

“Lena calm down! He’s telling the truth!”

Lena was breathing heavily as she looked from Greg do Kara, then back at him. Her body was still shaking and she too started to sweat, and only then did Kara realized Lena was having a panic attack.

“Lena..” she whispered against the Luthor’s ear, arms hugging her tightly close to her body. She turned to Greg with na apologetic look. “I’m sorry, but can you please go?”

Kara didn’t have to ask him twice before Greg quickly ran out of the room towards the service entrance. She then looked back at Lena, who seemed paler now, still shaking and eyes tightly closed.

Kara rubbed her hand in soothingly circles at the small of Lena’s back, bringing her impossibly closer to her body.

“Breath, Lena… in and out… slowly.” She whispered against her friend’s ear. “I’ve got you.”

Kara stood there with Lena in her arms for almost half an hour, whispering encouraging words to the other woman in hopes to calm her down, still trying to understand what had just happened.

After some time Lena slowly pulled away from Kara, wiping her wet cheeks from tears she didn’t even realize had fallen. She turned her back to Kara, looking through the glass window of the kitchen, arms wrapped around herself.

Kara didn’t know what to say or what to do, so she waited.

“You can go too, if you want.” She heard Lena whisper, voice void of emotions.

“I’m not leaving. I don’t want to.” She said back, approaching Lena carefully.

“I’m sorry for ruining our night, Kara. I can’t tell you how… ashamed I am.” Her voice was trembling again, just like her chin as she tried to hold back new tears. Kara a lower herself to touch Lena’s arm gently, because for some reason, she didn’t feel letting her go.

“You don’t have to feel ashamed of anything.” Kara said, before deciding to wrap na arm around Lena’s shoulder. “Maybe talking would be good, though.”

Lena laughed without humor, shaking her head. “Talk? About what? About how I’m turning to be just as weak as my mother always told me I was going to be?”

Of course this would have to do with Lillian and her horrible parenting ways. Kara didn’t like the idea of hate, but she really started to hate Lillian Luthor a little bit, and everything she did to turn Lena into this mess of fear.

“You’re not weak.”

“I spent… so much time… tying to be like her.” Lena clenched her jaw. “She said… that I look like my birth mother. But it doesn’t mean anything. I look like her, I walk like her, I dress like her, I’m feared like she is. I hate myself when I look in a mirror and see what I’ve becom: Lillian’s ghost.”

Kara saw Lena take a deep breath, before she continued vomiting words that have been kept silent for too long.

“People think she used to treated me badly, that she locked me in closets and all those mean things evil stepmothers do. She didn’t. She gave me nothing, she ignored me, and that was the worst thing she could ever do. I had everything money could buy, except her love, and that’s what I craved the most. And suddenly she’s back saying she loves me, only to use me and leave there to die.” Lena turned her bright green eyes to the blonde’s blue ones, crying freely now. “She left me, Kara. My mother left me!”

Kara felt her own heart breaking for the CEO as she hugged her tightly, her own tears falling down her cheeks as she held Lena close.

She could definitely learn how hate Lillian Luthor.

“You’re nothing like that woman. You’re brave, and strong, and smart, and so beautiful!” Kara cupped Lena’s cheeks with her hands, thumbs caressing her high cheekbones affectionately, “You’re beautiful inside and out. I feel so lucky to have you in my life, Lena.”

Lena only shook her head, and Kara decided it would be best if she tried to take her friend’s mind off of those bad thoughts. She helped Lena sit down at the table that was already set, and they ate mostly in silence after a few weak protests from Lena, but

Kara insisted she had to eat before going to bed.

Kara went home that night after helping Lena get under the covers in bed and making her promise she would call if she needed anything no matter the time.

Kara was determined to put Lena’s broken pieces back together, especially after walking inside her office the next day only to find it overflowing with flowers again, a small note with a simple Thank You between some gardenias.

•

Lena couldn’t believe she let Kara convince herself to host a traditional Game Night at her penthouse.

But Lena also would be lying if she said she didn’t absolutely love having Kara running around her house all day, making sure everything would be perfect for the first time Lena would officially meet her friends.

In fact, she had a lot more of Kara around her for the past few weeks. The blonde would show up in her office to get her out for lunch, walks in the park near L-Corp when they weren’t too busy, or movie nights at Lena place.

Lena loved how much of a home Kara made her feel in her own apartment, a place she used mostly to sleep, but didn’t get rid of because Lex had given it to her in her 18th birthday. Kara would walk barefoot around her kitchen, putting away the groceries they made together in unused cabinets and fridge. She loved sliding in socks over the marble floor in the living room, and Lena’s TV room because it was even better then going to an actual movie theater, because it recognized their faces and presented a list of movies and shows they could watch together based on their joined preferences.

And Kara was always by her side when she started to see a therapist twice a week. The blonde waited at the reception and she would be there na hour later, ready to intertwine her fingers with Lena’s and walk home.

She never asked any questions.

So if Kara convinced her to talk to a therapist, of course Kara would convince her to host Game Night.

Lena could already feel the palms of her hands sweating as they waited for the ‘whole gang’ as Kara said. She wasn’t good at this anymore. Meeting new people used to be easy, until she started to think everyone wanted to kill her by her mother’s request.

“Hey, you’re alright?” Kara asked, sliding next to her on the couch.

Lena too deep breath and counted to five, focusing on Kara’s beautiful blue eyes, just like her therapist suggested – maybe not the looking into Kara’s eyes, but that helped too.

“Yes. A little nervous.” She confessed with a shrug.

Kara got even closer, caressing the CEO’s cheek with the back of her hand, “You don’t have to be nervous. But we could cancel, if you want.”

“No! I don’t want to. I want to meet your friends.” Lena said with a blush.

Kara chuckled and looked down, biting her bottom lip nervously. It was clear something was bothering her.

“Look, about my friends… My sister and her girlfriend might freak out a little when they see a game lounge you never used, and they also might make stupid bets over stupid things. And Winn, well, he’ll totally freak out when he’ll realize that not only you have a pool in the living room, but that the penthouse it’s a high tech playground!” Kara pointed to Lena’s tablet, through where the brunette controlled almost anything in her apartment, including the coffeemaker.

“I like to test new things I’m working on here. And smart homes are the future! ” Lena said, giving Kara a smug smile.

The blonde chuckled and leaned in to press a not so quick kiss against Lena’s cheek right before they heard the doorbell ring.

Lena took deep breath as Kara moved to open the front door for her friends. She saw Alex and Maggie first, then Winn and probably his alien girlfriend, Lyra, James Olsen and Lucy Lane being the last ones.

They all looked around with widen eyes and mouths opened.

“Is that… is that a pool in the living room?” Winn said immediately, making Kara groan in embarrassment and his girlfriend elbow him in the ribs. "But she has a pool inside her apartment!”

“We learn to ignore him with time.” Kara’s sister said, offering her a small smile, and Lena felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.

“But it’s definitely not bad, Luthor.” Maggie smirked at her.

“Thanks…” Lena scratched her cheek to hide her blush, still feeling somewhat uncomfortable around the detective after Maggie showed up at her office to say how sorry for was for arresting her, especially after Kara threatened her to do it.

“Let’s focus in Game Night, guys!” Kara said, leading the way to the game lounge Lena never used, and of course her friends also gasped as they stepped inside the room.

Even though Lena felt on edge a few times, with Kara’s help she was able to truly understand why Kara loved these get togethers so much. After playing on Lena’s pool table, they all moved to Pictionary, before ending the night with poker.

“Kara, it was obvious you were bluffing, you’re such a bad liar.” Lucy Lane said, sniffing the wine Lena just offered them, before taking a sip. “God, this tastes so good! I bet your cellar its pure gold, Lena.”

“I’m not!”

“You are.” Everyone said, before laughing at Kara’s cute pout.

Lena touched her shoulder softly and kissed the top of the reporter’s head with a mumbled apology, still smiling with everyone, “Sorry, but you are… Winn!” When he looked her way, Lena smiled, raising her left eyebrow and pointing to the pool with her chin. “You wanna test the living room pool?"

Winn immediatelly perked up like an excited puppy, eyes shining with joy, since he’s been staring longingly at the blue water snce they moved to the living room for drinks.

"Really?”

“Wait, really?” James asked, he too excited now, and probably a little bit drunk like everybody else, except for Lena and Kara.

“I have another pool outside, but I never used this one. I think it’s time.” Lena said with a shrug.

“They don’t have bathing suits.” Kara chuckled.

“So what? I have plenty of towels.”

Before they could discuss it any further, Winn was already pulling Lyra with him so they could jump together in the pool, and Kara was glad Lena had a glass wall between the pool and the living room at least, or else she would have to buy new white couches, but she doubted Lena would be mad if she did, since the CEO was now laughing as Maggie pulled Alex in the water before jumping right after James and Lucy. They all looked like children, and Kara wasn’t even ashamed to call them her friends.

“Wanna try?” She asked Lena, offering her hand, to which Lena quickly took to intertwine their fingers.

“Why not?”

Later, after Lena’s driver took them all home in a limo, Kara offered to stay to help clean the mess, and Lena mentioned that the cleaning staff would probably take care of everything by the time she would wake up the next morning.

“You should sleep over.” Lena said quickly, before loosing the courage.

Kara looked at her with surprise in her eyes, “Really?”

Lena nodded, “It’s late.”

They didn’t talk much as they moved to sleep on Lena’s queen sized bed, and neither of them mentioned anything about the five extra guest bedrooms Lena had in the penthouse, but they both found out that night that it was much easier to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

•

Kara didn’t mean for things to go that bad with the rogue aliens that escaped the DEO’s maximum security prison located in a deserted forest somewhere in Asia.

Clark had been there, and so she thought it would be even easier to capture the aliens. But it wasn’t. There were too many against only the two of them, and when she saw Superman tripping over his own feet before falling on his knees, she was only confused for a second before she too felt suddenly nauseous, and then a searing pain in her ribs, before passing out.

Kara woke up on the familiar bed of the DEO’s headquarters in National City, the yellow sun reflectors still working around her, only in her underwear, a wide bandage wrapped around her middle.

The blonde still felt pain as she tried to look around the room, but before she could register anything, a door busted open and Kara felt strong arms wrap around her.

Oh. She could recognize that amazing expensive vanilla scent anywhere.

“Lena…” she managed to whisper, voice still kinda hoarse.

Lena pulled back, the tip of her nose red and she cried silently, “You’re finally awake!”

Kara frowned, the past events coming back slowly to her mind. The mission, the aliens, Kal on his knees, the pain…

“They had kriptonite."

Lena nodded, gently touching Kara’s stomach over the bandage. And so she had been seriously hurt, unconscious for Rao knows how long, barely awake for a few minutes, but of course her mind would only focus on how good it felt to have Lena’s hand on her almost naked body.

Kara felt her cheeks burning in embarrassment as she looked down to her body, confirming that she still was in a pair of white panties and bra.

"This is so embarrassing.” Kara mumbled, closing her eyes, but she heard Lena chuckle.

“You’re seriously worried about your underwear rather than being unconscious for almost three weeks?”

“Three weeks!?” Kara sat up quickly, wincing in pain as the bandage moved slightly.

“Kara, be careful!” Lena’s hands were now on her thighs to prevent her from standing up.

“Wait… so… you know now that I’m… you know…"

"You didn’t answer my calls or my texts. Alex said you were traveling, but she’s just a bad liar as you are.” Lena’s eyes shined with new tears. “I was so afraid you had left me. And when Maggie and Alex brought me here… you just wouldn’t wake up. I thought you were dead.”

Kara wrapped her arms around Lena, holding her tightly. “I’ll never let you go. Not without a fight, at least.” She pulled back slightly to cup Lena’s cheeks with her hands. “A-And… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me. I don’t want you to think I didn’t trust you… you just had so much going on. But I do trust you with my life, Lena.”

Lena sniffled, smiling brightly at Kara. “Then I’ll have to be better equipped with one of these solar beds at the penthouse, I guess."

•

Even though she knew Lena would be asleep by now, Kara just couldn’t help but fly straight to the CEO’s apartment, where they both felt strangely safe.

And not because of the security system, reinforced doors, bulletproof windows and lock down mode.

But because somehow, they made it their home without even saying anything.

Kara barely stepped in her apartment for the past couple of weeks, save for when she needed a new pack of clothes in Lena’s huge closet, and maybe to water her plants. Her laptop now used to be on Lena’s coffee table, all of her favorite junk foods now filled the brunette’s cabinets and fridge, sometimes their socks got mixed up and Lena would walk around in bright neon green ones as Kara had to work with boring gray ones.

She was glad to see the old Lena coming back to life after almost six months of therapy. Lena didn’t felt claustrophobic inside elevators that reminded her of orion cells, she didn’t recoil in fear after meeting bulky men, and her confident business self was almost back in full mode, if the new L-Corp subsidiary in China was any indication.

Maybe the self defense classes in group with Maggie, Alex, J'onn, James and Kara had helped too - of course Kara wouldn’t admit that creating the group to increase Lena’s confidence was her idea, but she was very glad Maggie was the one to put the plan in motion.

Which didn’t mean Kara had completed forgiven her sister’s girlfriend for constantly teasing her over being such a love sick puppy towards Lena.

Which she totally was.

In love with Lena, that is.

And she was almost certain Lena loved her back.

They just hadn’t had the guts to tell each other yet, even if they were practically living together for the past couple of months.

Kara exhaled a tired sigh, landing on Lena’s balcony outside her bedroom and placing her thumb over the small scanner that unlocked the door.

Once the door slid open, Kara took off her cape and red boots, before sliding next to Lena, who was already sleeping over the mess of covers she used to kick off in the middle of the night. She was wearing a simple black nightdress that showed off her amazing creamy legs, and Kara resisted the urge to run her hands over Lena’s soft skin as she laid down still in her uniform behind the CEO, wrapping her right arm around Lena’s waist and placing a soft kiss on the back of her neck.

Lena stirred half awake when she felt Kara’s presence, turning her head slightly to look at tired blue eyes, reaching a wandering hand behind to quickly caress Kara’s hair, before relaxing in the strong and warm pair of arms.

Who needed a blanket when they had a Super to keep them warm?

"Rough day?” She mumbled.

Kara hummed, “Alien hunting sucks, but we got them.” She said, lips ghosting against the skin of Lena’s neck, making her giggle.

“That tickles…”

“Yeah?” Kara smirked, fingers moving to Lena’s ribs.

“Kara, no!” She grabbed Kara’s hand in hers, before turning around to face the blonde, smile still on her lips.

Kara took the advantage of their knew position to spread her fingers over Lena’s back, hand running up and down the brunette’s soft skin. She felt Lena wrap her left leg over her hip, and Kara couldn’t resist the urge to move her hand to Lena’s thigh, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“Why don’t you just kiss me?” Lena asked quietly.

The sudden question took Kara off guard as she looked back into green eyes.

“I-I… we… what?”

“I won’t break if you do. It’s quite the opposite, actually. You might completely heal me if you do.”

Kara sighed, “I didn’t want to you to feel like I was taking advantage of you.”

Lena frowned.

“I would never think that. You helped me… you made me feel whole again.”

Kara brushed their noses together, closing her eyes as she did.

“You made me feel whole, too. I feel home with you here.” Kara pressed her lips lightly against Lena’s. “You're my home, Lena.”

Then they kissed hungrily, desperately trying to melt into each others arms.

When she woke up again the next morning, her naked body pressed against Kara’s, Lena kept thinking about the feeling of falling, and how she beautifully landed in the safety of Kara’s arms so they could start a new life together.

#supercorp #supercorp fic rec #supercorp fic

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