#wait but why do I feel like at night there’ll be finger marks on the windows 🫠

[boba-beom]

kang taehyun WHAT 🫠🫠🫠 beomgyu the loml help me?!???

[shokobuns]

“𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫?”

satoru likes to show off.

PAIRING(S): gojo satoru x f!reader x sukuna ryomen, ex fuck buddy!sukuna ryomen x f!reader, boyfriend!gojo satoru x f!reader

GENRE: smut, college!au, some fluff/humor

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: smut, threesome (i think), voyeurism, dubcon (for voyeur), masturbation (m) unprotected sex, creampie, overstim, size kink, squirting, mentions of a blowjob, marking, gojo clingy asf in public, mentions of public sex, a lot of praise

“Oh, sorry— Sukuna?”

The strawberry blonde smirks at you and a familiar sense of uneasiness overcomes your body. Your hand shakes slightly, the liquid content making small sloshes that spill over the cup. He notices this first and grabs your wrist, his much larger hand steadying yours. “No first name basis anymore, Princess?”

You look back down at your feet, memories flooding through your mind of the old nickname that spills from his lips. You don’t miss him, you truly don’t, but you do know that he gets a kick out of your own humiliation and that’s what makes you feel nervous. He’s shameless and it’s impossible to stir a reaction of unpleasantness. And he pushes your buttons whenever he can with no effort.

It all reminds you of the time his cock would be stuffed down your throat nearly every night.

You hate remembering those times, simply because they were filled with undeniable pleasure and it was so easy for him to make you feel good. He helped you take your mind off of a certain white haired bastard during a time of conflicting feelings just by plowing you into his mattress — or into the wall of a bathroom — relentlessly, treating you as if you were just a doll. And he filled you to the brim every time, hot and warm, praising your tight little pussy, squeezing your throat while waves of euphoria crashed into you all at once. The memories make you shudder when they flood for just a moment, but a call of your name reminds you why you got the drink in the first place.

“Bunny! Over here!” he raises his hand, slouching and taking up space on the couch. You sigh because it’s definitely a move to get you to sit in his lap.

“Ah, I see. Have fun, Princess.” Sukuna’s hand pats your back, urging you forward to your boyfriend.

You mumble a quiet ‘Thanks’ before taking your spot on Satoru’s thighs, his arms caging in your body while his head rests in the crook of your neck, placing the occasional kiss. His hands keep a firm grip on your thigh and you lean into his touch like usual as he continues his conversation with Suguru. It’s a natural position for the both of you because one thing you learned about Satoru was that he loved to show off.

He loved to leave shameless marks where everyone can see them, loved to grope you in public, loved to hold you tight anytime he had the chance. And you enjoyed every minute, relishing the feeling of your boyfriend making assertions through acts of affection. He’s needy, clingy even, and there was something appealing about the way he would always display it. He takes pride in the fact he can read you like a book, noting small actions that signified big feelings.

So when a certain blonde haired bastard sat down three feet away from the two of you, chatting away about things you don’t even bother to listen to you, of course he notices how you hide your face into his chest slightly, making yourself seem smaller than you usually were. His fingers lace through yours, not without him taking note of how sweaty your palms are, and his thumb brushes over your hand comfortingly. A soft kiss is planted on top of your head mid conversation and Sukuna thinks it’s funny.

It’s funny how no matter times you’ve come apart under him, you still manage to find someone else, and it’s nothing about wanting your heart and your hand marriage, two things that Satoru wouldn’t hesitate to give you. It’s about how he knew that he was one of the best fucks of your life and as egotistical as it is, there’s some curiosity about if your current boyfriend was able to provide the same quality. Before you were Satoru’s love, you were Sukuna’s favorite plaything.

“You okay, Princess?” he asks, no sign of guilt shown on his face or heard in his tone.

“Princess?” Satoru questions, eyebrows raised, “Do you know him, Bunny?”

You sigh, readjusting your position until your arm is sling around his neck and he holds you almost like a baby in his lap. “Yeah. Had a class with him.”

To Sukuna, the situation went from funny to hilarious. So this is all Satoru would know. It’s not like he has a huge problem with your past relationship being undisclosed, in fact, he understands where the hesitancy comes from, but he’d rather watch everything unfold while you try to keep a straight face. It’s pure entertainment for him, but pure embarrassment for you and that’s exactly what amuses him.

“Seems like you two are friends or something, Baby.” He pouts, waiting for an actual answer. You glare at him, a silent plea for him to drop the topic. “Well, yeah. We had to work together on a few assignments, dumbass.”

“Ah, alright,” he makes a mental note to find out what’s bothering you later and continues on with his conversation with the two other men, observing Sukuna’s line of sight. He makes sure to plant extra kisses and light nibbles on the skin of your shoulder from time to time, each one eliciting small whines. Although he knows that the pink blonde wouldn’t care anyways, it’s an extra precaution and another silent assertion. It’s not the first time he’s interacted with Sukuna before and he has a feeling it wouldn’t be the last either.

-

“Bunny?”

You respond by humming into his chest, breathing in the entirety of his scent, you hand resting on the side of his cheek. His arm wrapped around your body protectively, legs tangled together and his body providing you with warmth. One hand strokes your hair as you adjust your head to look directly into his cerulean eyes which never failed to make you sigh. His lips are pursed together, as if he’s thinking of the right words to say, and you wait patiently for him to speak.

“How do you really know him?” he asks softly, “I won’t get mad, I promise.”

You take a deep breath in, an internal debate brewing in your mind, but you ultimately decide that it’s best to not lie to your own boyfriend. Especially if you wanted to marry him one day. “We were fuck buddies.” you mutter, just loud enough for him to barely hear you.

“Oh?” he smirked, his expression of concern replaced by curiosity, “When?”

“Well- uh,” you stumble over your words, the answer on the tip of your tongue. You’re not sure how he’ll react, but you’re already in too deep and you’ve already decided you wouldn’t lie to him. “We ended it months ago. Nothing to worry about it, plus if you know Sukuna, he’s not really the type to get attached, anyways.”

“That’s true,” he agrees, recalling each time he saw him with a new girl on his arm, “But exactly how many months ago?”

“S-Six.”

“Funny, that’s how long we’ve been dating, isn’t it?” he asks, an idea brewing in his mind.

“There was no overlap, I promise-”

“Don’t worry, Bunny. I know you wouldn’t do that,” he pauses, his mind overflowing with questions as he tries to pick out the next one, “How long?”

“A year.”

“Long time, huh?” he comments, “Did you love him?”

“No! I swear, Toru, I was trying to forget you!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, dumbass! I was in love with you!”

“Aww, my little bunny had a crush on me.” he teased, kissing the crown of your head.

“Shut up!”

“Don’t worry,” his fingers rub circles into your hip reassuringly, “I had a crush on you, too.”

You smile while he readjusts your position until your back is to his chest with his chin resting on top of your head. His fingers interlace with yours, resting near your face. With one final kiss on your head, you’re just about ready to drift off.

“Does he fuck better than me?”

“Satoru!”

“I’m just asking!”

“No, no he doesn’t,” you close your eyes, before pressing your ass harder to his crotch, “You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“Really?” he grins, bringing your body closer to his.

“Really.”

-

You weren’t lying.

And this is reaffirmed with every little moan that leaves your lips as he leaves kisses down your body. Satoru knows all of your sweet spots, his tongue swiping your bottom lip and entering your wet cavern, wet kisses down your neck, teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder. His mouth latches on your nipple at the same time he shoves his length into your hole so suddenly. You’re already dripping down the sheets, walls fluttering while his thumb circles over your pearl. His mouth leaves you, your body still trembling from the sensation. “Already coming? I just put it in, Bunny.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, “Feels s’ good, Toru.”

“Yeah?” he replies, his hands holding your waist as he starts driving his cock into you as if you were a doll. His mouth comes back to your breast, licking the little dark nubs before biting down on the soft flesh. You’re lightheaded while your tight cunny barely adjusts to the stretch, his thick cock making your back arch and your nails sink into his shoulder. Your vision is foggy, barely processing the other man sitting in the corner of Satoru’s bedroom.

One thing you notice is that he’s rough today. Of course, he’s always rough, but you’re sure there’ll be more purple blooming all over your body than usual. His hands squeeze the fat of your hips so hard that they’re already becoming sore, but he fills you up in a way that hits every single spot inside of you. Despite how big he is, your little cunny swallows him whole, sucking him in like a vacuum and he groans into your shoulder at the tight feeling. “So perfect for me, aren’t ya?”

“Cumming, Toru,” you whine out, an intense feeling of pleasure forming in your lower belly.

“Then cum. But I’m not stopping.”

You nod, tears spilling from your eyes and flowing down your face as your walls convulse and flutter around his throbbing cock. You’re staring into pools of blue that gaze back at your trembling body in awe and it all makes you feel like you’re floating. He wasn’t lying and you know this for sure because there’s no time to recover, not when he’s still pounding into your cervix like he has something to prove. Your tits jiggle with every thrust into your quivering hole, the headboard violently banging into the wall. It’s not that long until your second orgasm is crashing into you, Satoru’s fingers playing with your little clit. He really isn’t going to stop any time soon.

And finally, even though your eyesight is hazy, you make out the mysterious man in the corner of the room.

Sukuna.

He’s looking at you with dilated pupils, the pink tip of his cock weeping with precum, swiping it with every pump. His hips come up to meet his hand as he focuses on how your tiny pussy takes in Satoru’s cock over and over again. It’s the lewd sobs and squelches that fill up the air of the room and the slick staining the bed that cause him to groan involuntarily. He’s shameless, fucking his fist at the sight of you spread out and your boyfriend is right there. No wonder he’s fucking you like he has something to prove.

You told him that he was the best and, of course, he had to prove it. But not to you.

It doesn’t matter because you love the way he’s fucking you right now. There’s no time for you to rest, only Satoru rhythmically pistoning his cock into your creaming cunny while Sukuna watches closely, observing how your clenching hole takes him in. After using his mouth to litter your breasts with purple bruises, he pins your knees to your chest and his cock somehow reaches even deeper than before. His thrusts become faster and faster, more and more erratic while the sudden change in position makes you squeak. “Bet you love being treated like a fucking doll, huh, Bunny?”

“M-Mhm,” you squeal, unable to form a proper answer, “love it, s’much!”

Skin slaps against skin, another knot forming in your belly. Your clit is pinched between his fingers, making you sob out his name. His lips come down to kiss your open mouth while holding your body flush against him as your cunt gushes and squirts all over his stomach and your thighs. Your walls clamp down at the same time he stills, pumping his hot seed as far into you as he can. You’re milking him for all he’s worth and he lets out soft praises that make you flustered. The sticky mess leaks all over when he pulls out, but he doesn’t leave to get a towel like usual because he’s noticed that the man in the corner of the room is still hard despite the mess on his shirt.

“Bunny?”

“Hmm?” you respond, still taking deep breaths from the intense sex you had just seconds before.

“What do you think of giving your old fuck buddy a ride?”

You purse your lips. For one, you have Satoru’s permission, but one thing about Sukuna’s dick was that it was huge, bigger than your current boyfriend, and you’re not sure if you’d be able to take it again. But there’s a feeling of nostalgia that fills your chest seeing it all over again and you remember all the nights he’s given you before.

“What d’ya say, Princess?”

The old nickname prompts you to walk over, Satoru’s cum still dripping down your inner thigh, and straddle Sukuna’s lap. You steady yourself by holding onto his shoulder, slowly sinking your ruined pussy onto the tip and going down until you’re halfway through his cock. But he’s impatient, immediately gripping your hips and thrusting upwards, forcing you to take the entirety of his length. The stretch burns, it hurts like a bitch, but it only makes the experience even more thrilling.

Your head is thrown back and Satoru comes from behind, kissing your neck reassuringly while Sukuna takes control, fucking your boyfriend’s cum back into your womb. As two large hands guide you up and down his cock, your overstimulated cunny creams around him, tightening in a way that makes it harder for him to move. Satoru’s hands from from behind to play with your tits and it’s all so much, the different sensations coming together while you’re helpless, unable to differentiate who’s who. “You’re always so fucking tight, Princess,” he praises, groaning out as your walls clamp down. “Even after getting fucked by your little boyfriend, huh?”

Your pussy adjusts to his size just like before, a mix of your slick and Satoru’s leftover cum dribbling down Sukuna’s balls. He drives his cock into you with brute force, inconsiderate of the fact you’ve already been treated like a ragdoll. With one more brutal thrust, you’re melting, overcome by a feeling of pure bliss. He spills into you, the warm feeling in your womb making your head dizzy. “Good job, Princess.” he smirks as Satoru carries you off his lap bridal style and sets you gently onto his bed.

You’re just about ready to drift off, unable to make out the conversation of the two men in the room. Once Sukuna leaves with a wave and a ‘Thanks, Princess” you use the last of your energy to pull Satoru back on the bed and hold onto him like a clingy child. “What was that about?”

“Wanted to show that cocky bastard that I was the best.”

You laugh before pressing your lips to his cheek and appreciatively gazing at his pretty face. “But you are the best.”

“I know.” he smirks, returning the favor by bringing you into a wet kiss, “Round two? With just the two of us?”

“It’s round three for me, dumbass.”

“The offer still stands.”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

[hurting-fictional-people]

Whumper 4, caretaker 5 caretaker (doesn't know it's blood)

Is that ok?

Whumper 4: “Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?” / Caretaker 5: “Let me help you.”

Yeah, of course that's ok :) I'm guessing that the parenthesis was supposed to go before the 'caretaker' and they don't know about the blood? well, I hope that's it because that's what I wrote haha, but if it wasn't, please feel free to send me another ask <3

Also, some content warnings because this one ended up a little intense: implied noncon (didn't mean to write it like that but the vibes are there so), noncon drugging, a very creepy and intimate whumper... there's comfort at the end though!

-

Whumpee should’ve known there was something weird about Whumper. No one could smile that big and talk that kindly without wanting something in return. They just never thought it’d be this.

“Come on, now. I don’t have the whole night. What’s your choice?”

All Whumpee does is close their eyes and shake their head, too overwhelmed to force any words out of their quivering lips.

“Whumpee, it’s not a hard one,” Whumper huffs, and they can hear the annoyance in their voice but they can’t convince themself to say the words. “Do you need me to repeat it to you?”

They don’t, the sound of Whumper’s offer still echoes inside their head, loud and clear.

But Whumper takes their silence as agreement.

“Here’s your choice: you can take these pills and be the entertainment of my party tonight, or I can go snatch someone else to do it. You’ll only stay if you agree, and if you don’t, I’ll let you walk away and never see me again. It’d be a shame though, because everything is ready for you. I’ve been watching you, and oh Whumpee, you are just so… perfect. But, in case you say no, I can always go after someone else. Say… Caretaker? I’m told they are a friend of yours.”

Their heart pounds in their ears, so loud Whumpee is almost surprised Whumper can’t hear it too.

“I can go get them if you want me to. Can’t promise they’ll come out in one piece after my guests finish playing, though. Not like I can promise you. You are far too precious to be permanently damaged, you I can promise to keep somewhat safe. Caretaker on the other hand, not so much. Who knows what those troglodytes could do to them if I give them a free pass?”

Whumper’s laugh fills the basement Whumpee woke up in only minutes ago, bouncing off the walls and making Whumpee’s skin crawl. How could they trust the mysterious stranger who offered them a ride? Why hadn’t they been more careful? Now here they are, locked in a basement with someone twice their size and no hope of escape. If only they’d been more careful–

“Well?” Whumper says, drawing Whumpee’s attention back to those narrowed eyes, glinting with cruelty.

“W-what will you do to me?” Whumpee whispers through the thick layer of fear enveloping their world. “If, if I say yes… what then?”

Their smile is almost as horrid as their laughter. Whumpee shrinks against the wall, pulling their knees closer to their chest. “If you say yes my love, the pills will start working in a few minutes. I will give you a nice new outfit while the drugs do their job and then when you are barely able to walk, I’ll help you up the stairs. Everyone will be so happy to see you, Whumpee.” Their eyes burn, but no tears fall when Whumper scoots closer and touches their hair, gentle fingers brushing back sweaty locks. “And then we will have fun. You’ll barely remember it afterward, but I will remember it forever. You might be left with some sore spots but all temporary. Well, almost all temporary, won’t promise one or two marks for you to remember me later. Maybe a few scratches, some of my friends are remarkably fond of knives. But the point here is that you’ll make anything we want you to, and that’s the real fun.”

“And if I say no?”

“If you say no, I’ll go after your friend. Kidnap them, just like I did you. And when they awake, they won’t be given the choice I’m giving you since it wasn’t them I really wanted. I’ll take them upstairs, and we’ll make them hurt. Scream. Cry. Maybe I’ll record it and send it all to you so you know what fate you chose for them. Now, what's your choice, Whumpee? Tell me.”

As they speak terrible word after terrible word, Whumper’s fingers continue to play with Whumpee’s hair. Twisting and brushing and caressing. Always so soft, so awfully soft in comparison to the nightmares they spit into Whumpee’s brain.

“Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?”

A tear finally escapes, only to be brushed away by Whumper’s touch.

“But don’t worry. If you make the right choice, It won’t be all pain, baby. It’ll be about those big scared eyes and that delightful little quiver on your lip. About how gorgeous you will look when you’re barely able to walk, and how you will cling when you can’t think straight. And I’ll be there the whole time. I’ll take care of you.”

Whumper is right.

In the end, it isn’t a hard choice.

Whumpee closes their eyes and nods at the same time a soft, broken “okay,” slips out of their lips. It doesn’t feel like the lock of a door they were expecting. It feels like taking a step into the void, and knowing there’ll be thorns waiting for them when they fall.

Still, it’s with Caretaker’s smile in their head that they force themself to swallow when two round pills touch their lips. They don’t open their eyes until a bottle of water is held for them to drink from. It is only when there is no more chance for them to break and plead to be let go, even if they want to, desperately, that they let their eyes flutter open.

Whumper is waiting for them with a wide smile when they do.

“Let us begin then.”

And so they do.

Whumper brushes Whumpee’s hair and gently applies makeup to their face. When they ask Whumpee to undress and give them new clothes, they don’t hesitate to obey, and only when Whumper is closing their zipper for them do they realize how faint they feel.

When they are placed in front of a mirror, Whumpee looks at the shiny clothes but forgets what they looked like as soon as they are led away. By the time the door is opened and music first hits their ears, they are leaning against Whumper to keep standing.

They try to climb the stairs. Narrowing their eyes to concentrate, they raise their foot, but the world is filled with blurred colors and too-quick movement, and the only reason they don’t fall is Whumper’s fast hands holding them up.

Whumpee is almost grateful when Whumper chuckles and whispers against their hair. “Easy there, baby. Let me help you.”

They rest their head against Whumper’s heart when they are picked up bridal style, and stay that way until the lighting changes and voices fill the air.

They are placed on the floor, and with Whumper’s help, manage to keep standing, even though the floor refuses to stand still under their feet.

And then there are hands on their hands, squeezing and hurting, and Whumpee tries, they try so hard, but instead of the firm no they want to say, only a moaned “n-hng, I, I, d-don, wha-what’s hap-happe–,” comes out.

And then the world slips away, and though their body still moves, they are barely there anymore to see it.

-

When Caretaker’s doorbell rings, they don’t hesitate to jump out of bed and run to the door. They’ve been sending Whumpee messages all night without response, and concern rings louder than sleep. Only when they open the door and see the sunrise do they realize how early it already is.

And then their gaze slides to the figure leaning against their doorframe, head bowed and shoulders slumped, and their heart misses a beat.

“Whumpee?” Caretaker calls, reaching out their hand.

But before they can touch sparkly clothes they’ve never seen their friend wearing before, Whumpee cowers away. Caretaker retreats, but their heart races even faster.

“Whumpee, what’s wrong? Where were you, did something happen?”

Whumpee looks up, and Caretaker doesn’t need an answer to know what happened. Wide pupils, half-lidded eyes, smudged makeup and parted lips tell them all they need to know.

“Oh, Whumpee.”

There are stains all over their clothes, too. Is it spilled alcohol? Is it vomit?

“Oh, Whumpee,” Caretaker sighs again, taking a slow step in their direction, feeling a sad, involuntary frown settling on their forehead. “What did you do?”

Whumpee follows their steps with their eyes but keeps still. It is only when Caretaker comes close enough for touch and extends their hand that they wince and shrink into themself again.

“Honey, I can see you’re not okay,” Caretaker says as calmly as they can. “Let me help you.”

Another step, and this time all Whumpee does is close their eyes and let out a low whimper. Caretaker sighs again as they help Whumpee wrap their arm around their shoulders and lead them inside.

Whumpee is almost a dead weight in Caretaker’s arms as they help them get into the bathroom, to seat on the toilet and lean back against the wall.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Caretaker asks, crouched down in front of Whumpee.

“I, I, I don– don’t, W-Whum-per. They, they, they did... something.”

“Who’s Whumper, love?”

But all Whumpee does is shake their head no as tears stream down their cheeks.

“Okay, you can tell me later. Can you at least tell me what did you use?”

The look Whumpee gives Caretaker is so utterly lost, that they nearly start crying as well.

“Don’t… kn-know. Pills?”

“How about a shower, and then we talk more, huh?” Caretaker tries, nodding encouragingly. Whumpee swallows, but doesn’t nod along with them. Instead, their eyes dart around the bathroom, searching for nothing.

With a reassuring squeeze on their knee, Caretaker gets into the shower and turns on the faucet. As the water warms up, they take one look at Whumpee’s slumped form and walk over to the mirror.

Clutching the cold porcelain of the sink, Caretaker looks up at their own image in the mirror – tired and disappointed, but also patient. Worried.

“You can do this,” they mouth to themself, “Whumpee needs your help.”

With one last sigh, they turn their head to Whumpee and take a step in their direction. And then a step back, when something grabs their attention at their peripheral vision.

Caretaker stares at their image in the mirror again and feels their heart stop when they see their sleeve stained red. The sleeve where their friend’s arm had just touched.

It isn't alcohol or puke on Whumpee’s clothes.

It is blood.

“Whumpee,” they call, dropping to their knees in front of them. Whumpee jumps and meets Caretaker’s stare with wide, scared eyes. “You are bleeding. Are you hurt? I need you to tell me where you are hurt, Whumpee.”

But all they do is breathe faster and faster, pure helplessness on their face.

“If you can’t tell me, I need to find the source of blood on my own. I’m taking your shirt off, okay?”

Caretaker doesn’t wait for an answer, and Whumpee doesn’t give them one.

They don’t fight Caretaker’s hands when they pull the shirt over their head, even when a pained hiss leaves their lips.

Caretaker holds their breath when they see Whumpee’s bared skin.

Bruises color their entire torso, as well as long crisscrossing welts. Their arms are covered in small, rounded marks that look dreadfully like cigarette burns. Cuts, deep and superficial litter everything, some already closed, some still weeping blood. There’s barely any smooth skin left.

“What happened to you?” Caretaker breathes, searching for answers in Whumpee’s terrified eyes. “Who did this?”

All the answer they get is a soft sob and a cold forehead hitting their shoulder as Whumpee falls forward and nuzzles into their neck.

Caretaker hugs them back, careful not to touch or press on sore skin, feeling their stomach churn when their fingers bump into more cuts along their back.

“I’m here now,” Caretaker whispers against their hair, tears of their own rolling down their cheeks, “I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again, Whumpee. You are safe. You are safe.”

They stay like that until the bathroom is foggy from the warm water falling from the shower and Whumpee’s shoulders stop shaking, but when Caretaker helps them undress and oh-so-carefully cleans the wounds, there’s only drowsiness and chemicals behind the fear in their eyes.

They have no idea what they'll do once Whumpee comes to. Or what they'll do to whoever Whumper is if they get the chance.

-

Prompts from this list. Still taking them but I can't promise how fast I'll write it haha

[bibliosophist]

mmmmmm time for angst mmm mmm

can I request 11 w/ satan for the angst prompts? i know you said that we don't have to use the angst prompts, but they're just too good not to request 🥺

Y'all wanted angsty Satan, so here he is. They get physical with each other, and not in a sexy way. TW/CW: pushing, slapping, choking

***

“So... I’m back,” you say. You know it’s lame.

“Yes, it would seem so,” he says, turning the page of his book. He doesn’t so much as glance at you.

“Are you not going to say anything?”

“What is there to say?”

“Jesus, Satan.” You wince, acutely aware of your faux-pas. “Sorry, I just meant- Why are you being so blasé about this? I’m back.”

“Did you want a party? If so, I’m sure you won't have to wait too long. My brothers are clearly overjoyed at your return. They’re like puppies. It’s embarrassing, really. I expect there’ll be wet spots on the carpet.”

You rear back as if he’s slapped you, but he hasn’t so much as shifted his position. “I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

“You didn’t miss anything, and neither did I.”

A chill blooms in your stomach despite the heat of the fire. “Okay, clearly we’re not on the same page here. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“Mmm. Well, I thought you’d have the courtesy to tell me that my feelings weren’t reciprocated, but apparently I was mistaken.”

W-what are you talking about?”

“I told you on your last night here,” he says, setting his book down and standing up. “I told you that I loved you- and what did you do? You sought out my brothers.”

“To say goodbye! I didn’t know when I’d see any of you again, if I’d see any of you again! Of course I said goodbye!”

“Is that why you made a pact with Lucifer?” he asks, voice like steel. “To say goodbye?”

The chill in your stomach grows into an iceberg. “What are you insinuating?”

He slowly raises a single eyebrow at you. “I’m not insinuating anything. I told you that I loved you, and you let my brother sear his mark into your skin.”

“It was nothing, Satan. I went to say goodbye and he offered a pact. Why are you upset about this? I’ve made pacts with all of you.”

“Was our pact so unimportant to you?” he asks as he steps forward, moving into your space. “Were you just checking me off your list?”

“‘Unimportant?’ You’re one to talk,” you spit, shoving him away from you. The iceberg has been replaced with a volcano. How dare he, the hypocrite. “You only made a pact with me to piss off your big brother!”

“And you only did it in some ridiculous attempt to earn his respect.”

“To free Belphie!”

“You had ulterior motives when we made our pact, so what if I did too?” he snaps, staring down at you. His eyes roam over your face. When he speaks again, you aren’t sure if the acid in his voice is for you or himself. “Even knowing what you did with him- him, out of everyone- I still want you. What does that say about me?”

“Excuse me? ‘Did with him?’”

“Do you really think I didn’t notice when you didn’t return to the party?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh no? Do you expect me to believe that you two sat around sipping demonus and listening to records? I know what Lucifer’s pacts entail.”

“You don’t know anything,” you hiss, turning for the door.

A derisive laugh echoes from behind you. “You can’t even look at me. I know everything I need to know.”

You spin around, closing the distance between you in two quick strides. “Fuck you, Satan,” you snarl, your hand cracking across his face.

Colour rises in his face. He’s still for a long moment, then rage twists his elegant features. His shape begins to blur, like heat waves off asphalt. Between one breath and the next he’s shifted into his demon form. Curved horns protrude from his skull, his tail lashes the floor. In one swift motion he seizes you by the throat, slamming you back against the wall. “You’re not an exchange student anymore, (Y/N). You have no protection. If I killed you right now you’d just be one more dead human.”

You keep your hands at your sides, refusing to give into the temptation to grab his wrist. His long fingers wrap halfway around your neck; you know you’d never succeed in fighting him off. Instead, you snort. “You’re all talk, Satan. There’s no bite in you; you don’t have the conviction.”

A hiss drags his lips into a distortion of a smile. He shifts his grip, fingers pressing into your carotid. “You don’t think so?”

You grin up at him as pressure begins to build in your face, lips tingling. “No. I’ve been here before, remember? When your littlest brother had the guts to snap my neck? I know what that feels like.” You know that he’s standing on the edge of a precipice, but you do it anyway- you push him. “You didn’t even have the guts to do more than talk on my last night here.” Your vision is swimming now, but you manage to push out those last few words. “You were too afraid of the pain of losing me. You won’t hurt me.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw, and there’s a split second where you think that you might have been wrong- that he might not let go. But then he does. You know you can’t stand on your own right now, so you let your legs buckle, falling you to the floor rather than into his arms.

“Despite all those books you read, you’re still so stupid.” Your voice comes out raspy, and you cough at the end, but you get it out. When he doesn’t say anything, you push on. “Do you understand what a pact with Lucifer is?”

“Ownership. He owns you.” he says, lip curling. “All that beautiful human meat for him to do whatever he pleases with.”

“Can you shut up for once in your life? He owns my soul, Satan. How do you think he was able to bring me back down here, now that the exchange program is over?”

There’s another long silence as he contemplates your words. “I don’t understand.”

It’s your turn to laugh now. “Clearly. Humans don’t get to just hang around in the Devildom. Not while they’re alive, anyway.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He claimed it before it could be judged, as was his right as its owner.”

“Why would you... Why would you give up everything you had to be here? What kind of a masochist would do that?”

You push yourself up from off the floor. “You told me you loved me. I decided to show you.”

[flysafepapi]

the sin factor 12/?

masterlist

Warnings: Implied/referenced abuse, mild self-hatred, self-deprecation, just general all around angst.

Summary: It’s in the eyes, too, the same ambition and clawing desperation to be more, get more, hidden behind a carefully blank stare. He also knows that Duke has something Tommy never had although it’s more likely that it’s the other way around, because Tommy has lines that he won’t cross for reasons that are his own. Duke has no such reservations.

tagging: @zablife​​​​​​ @the-makingsofgreatness​​ @peakyrogers​​​​​​ @hb-writes​​​​​ @caelys​​​ (let me know if you want to be added on or taken off)

Breakfast is just as awkward as he knew it would be. Aside from a few muttered greetings and asking each other to pass the salt and the butter, it’s quiet. He keeps his eyes on the worn wooden table. Too afraid to look up and see the silent conversation he knows is happening above his head, to see the disapproval there. He’s never let himself want anything before, but he wants to be part of this family. He knew it would’ve only been a matter of time before he fucked it up somehow, he always did. Maybe it was for the best that he got it out of the way as soon as possible. 

“Got any plans for the day, boys?”

“I’ve got to go into the office, catch up on paperwork.”

“What about you?”

He looks up, but takes care to avoid the eyes of either of them. “I don’t have much planned.”

“Feel like giving me a hand? I’ve got a few things to move up to the attic, and my joints ain’t like they used to be.”

“Uh, sure,” Duke says, glancing at Isiah for a second. It’s the last place he wants to be, really, especially without Isiah around to smooth things over when Duke says something else to ruin the day, but he’s trying. He might not want to be here alone with his boyfriend’s father, but he wants to be the kind of person Jeremiah could look at and think ‘He’s a good one.’ He’s trying. No one has ever been worth the trouble, before. “I can do that.”

“Great. Don't worry, it’s only a couple of boxes, nothing too heavy.”

“Ah, so that’s why you wanted us to come to dinner. The truth comes out now, my father’s using us for free labour.”

He listens to their voices fading away as they leave the room, bickering fondly as they go, but he stays sitting at the table and looks around the kitchen instead. It’s tidy, if not clean, well-used is probably the best way to describe it. It’s the sort of place he can imagine Isiah sitting in, watching his mother cooking, sneaking little bits of food while she’s pretending she doesn’t notice. Worlds away from the fire he’d learnt to cook over, with food so hot it burns your fingertips because they hadn’t had forks, or plates, or a kitchen, really. He barely had a bed, most nights, and even now sleeping on a mattress feels wrong. He’s grown too used to sleeping on the ground, with just his arms to cushion his head from the dirt and the rocks. This house, far from fancy, is still too good for him to be in, and every second that passes feels like he’s leaving some sort of irremovable mark on it, like there’ll be a stain here long after he’s gone. 

“Feeling alright?”

Duke jumps a little, snapping out of his thoughts. 

“Fine. Just tired.”

“There’s coffee, if you want to make some.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

The concerned look is why he doesn’t want to be alone with Jeremiah. Who knows what he thinks, seeing Duke sitting at his kitchen table, holding onto a mug of tea like it’s a lifeline. He’s afraid to ask, so he bites his tongue.

“Where are these boxes? Best to get it out of the way, no use putting it off.”

“Sit down.”

Halfway out of his seat, Duke freezes, and slowly sits back down. While the voice isn’t familiar, not yet, the tone is, and he curls his fingers around the arm of the chair and waits for the words he knows are going to come. That tone is always immediately followed by how he’s not good enough, or should stay away. A few memorable times, it had been followed by “You’re the son of a whore, ain’t you? This shouldn’t be too new to you, then.” The ones who had said it are dead now, but the words still echo in his head from time to time, always coupled with the phantom feeling of fingers on his shoulders and red-hot pain down his back. They’d left souvenirs, in their own way.

“I’ve heard stories about you.”

“I know.” It would’ve been a miracle if none of the rumours had made it back to Jeremiah. Finn hasn’t been quiet in his accusations that it was him that killed Mary. He’s right, of course, Duke did do it, but there’s no proof. It doesn’t stop people from listening, and avoiding him on the streets. 

“And you still showed up?”

“Yes. It was important to Isiah.”

“He means a lot to you.”

After a moment of hesitation, Duke nods. “Yes, sir.”

“You’re the first one he’s ever brought home. There have been others, I’m sure you know that, enough that I’ve lost count over the years. Why do you think you’re the only one?”

“I don’t know,” Duke says, looking down at his hands, “I wonder that myself, every day.”

“Why?”

He could leave. There’s nothing keeping him here, he doubts Jeremiah would try and stop him. Still, he doesn’t. This is the first time he’s ever cared enough about anyone to meet their parents, so it appears they’re in the same boat. There’s been other people, less and less as he grew older and realised that none of them would hold his interest for more than a night or two, and none of them have been important enough to him that he’s trying to impress their parents, and taking care of them when they’re sick, and staying awake at night thinking about what their future might look like. He’d never admit that to anyone, even if the alternative is death.

“I know where I come from. I might be Tommy Shelby’s son now, but I was no one before that. I was only ten when my mum died. No one else was around to look after me, so I had to look after myself. The first time I ever killed anybody was the doctor who refused to treat her, because she was Romani, but there’s been dozens since then. You’d be surprised about what people do, when they see a young boy alone.”

Jeremiah just looks at him, and he almost manages to keep his face blank, but there’s a small crease in between his eyebrows, like he’d been expecting to hear something simple, not all of this.

“I still remember all of them, and I remember every single one of their faces. Once she died, there was no one left to care about what happened to me, and I did things for a place to sleep and something to eat that I’ll never tell another living soul about. Things that’ll follow me for the rest of my life. Sometimes I had to go days without either of them. That’s where I come from. No amount of money from a family I never knew I had will change that, and all the money in the world won’t make me a better person. I don’t know why I’m the only one, but I know that I shouldn’t be.”

The silence that fills the room after he’s finished talking feels like a tangible thing, like it’s heavy enough to trap the air in his lungs and keep him from taking a full breath. 

“It’s all a charade, it’s just a fucking act, and one day he should come to his senses and realise there’s better people out there to choose from that aren’t anything like me.”

“He won’t.”

“I know. But he should.”

He almost asks about the boxes again, starts to say the words, but they get caught in his throat when he looks down at the table.

“Can I talk now?”

“Yes. Sorry.”

“Louise, god rest her soul, she was a good woman. Much better than me. I still don’t know what it is she saw in me, but I thank god every day she saw it, because she made me the happiest I’ve ever been. Since her passing, I thought about finding someone else, to feel a little less lonely, but I couldn’t. It felt wrong, like I was disrespecting her memory. I tried to break it off with her, more than once, before we were married. Every time, she’d tell me that I don’t get to make her decisions for her, and if being with me was going to make life harder, well then she didn’t want an easy life anyway. Isiah takes after her more than he thinks he does.”

“You think I should just let him keep fooling himself?”

“I think you should trust him to know what he’s doing, and let him make his own choices about it. It might be the best decision you ever made.”

It takes all of his effort to cup his hands around the small object Jeremiah gently drops into his palms, as if his fingers are frozen. He shakes his head and tries to give it back, but the older man pretends he doesn’t see it and stands up from the table, clapping on the shoulder lightly, as if Duke might shatter into pieces if the touch is any heavier.

“Keep it. For when you’re ready.”

He doesn’t have to ask to know it’s Isiah’s mother’s ring, sitting in the middle of his palm, glinting dully in the light.

[spenciebabie]

can you do a blurb with bi!spencer and maybe a bi!reader?

“hey! i’m the anon who requested the bi!reader and bi!spencer. could you write it as smut, but they talk about it before or after?”

i hope it’s okay but im gonna combine it with this one too:

“can you write one where reader is bi and is kinda checking out a girl when they’re on a case and then Spence proves that she’s his that night but he’s so supportive of her sexuality?”

(also wanna preface this by saying that im bisexual myself and tried to write this in a way that didn’t fetishize bisexual people, or women in particular, because that’s something i feel pretty strongly about)

— —

She caught your eye at the precinct that day. Something about the way her pencil skirt hugged her hips, or maybe the way her hair flowed so perfectly over one of her shoulders as she leaned down to help Emily look over a file.

You didn’t realize until it was too late that you were honest to god staring.

“Close your mouth” Spencer joked, sitting down in the seat next to you, following your line of sight to where the detective was bending over.

“I wasn’t—I’m not...” you gasp, doing next to no damage control.

He just brushes it off with a chuckle, until later that evening.

When you finally get back to your hotel for the evening, the door shutting behind you, he pushes you against the door and his mouth is on your neck instantly. Sucking and nipping gently.

“Fuck Spence! You’re gonna leave a mark!” You moan out, not really caring in the moment but knowing there’ll be repercussions in the morning. So he pulls back.

“Maybe I want to leave a mark”

Then his lips crash against your own, rough and hungry while his hands roam over your body, grabbing everywhere he can. Hiking up your skirt so that his hands can grab at your bare skin.

“Spencer—ah!” you moan out as his hands graze the crotch of your panties.

“Already wet huh? Did looking at that detective earlier turn you on?”

“Spence...” you whine as his fingers dip into your panties

“I know it did, but you’re mine. You’re no one else’s, am I clear?” He growls against your ear, low and heated as his fingers start to work against you, rubbing slow circles around your clit.

“M’sorry Spence” you mumble, most of your energy going to keeping yourself upright, your knees growing more unstable by the second.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” He asks, groaning it more than anything.

His fingers slip inside you as he speaks, pushing two inside your waiting cunt at the same time. The way they stretch you out, pushing deeper a deeper inside of you on each thrust, curling up against your walls.

“Fuck! You Spencer, belongs to you”

“You like to fantasize about other people? How their fingers would feel inside of you, how their mouth would feel on your neck? Between your legs?” He asks, pumping in and out of you. His other hand firmly planted on your hip, holding you up.

“Sometimes” you admit with a small gasp, “but I only want you” it sounds eager and desperate but it’s the truth.

As much as you liked to look at other people, you never did much more than that. Spencer was the only person you ever really wanted to be with.

With a few more deliberate thrusts and his thumb working deftly against your clit you were shaking around him, leaving forward to brace your hands against his chest for support as your knees began to give.

“That’s it, cum for me baby” he coos against your ear, his fingers working you thought it slowly until you started to to come down.

“What was that all about?” you ask, breath still coming out a little shaky as he pulls his fingers out of you. “We’re you really that jealous?”

He shakes his head, “No. Well, maybe?” he looks like he’s telling himself as much as he’s telling you.

“You gotta admit she was gorgeous, I’ve seen the way you look at other women, and at other men too” you start, keeping your tone soft, “When you look at them, or think about them, does it make you want me any less?”

He shakes his head in a firm no, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Of course I don’t! You’re the only one I really want” he rushes out, his lips pressing against yours softly before pulling back.

“Exactly, so why would I want anyone else either?”

[straykidsreactions]

Reaction To: S/O in Little Space

S T R A Y   K I D S  R E A C T I O N   T O : You, their S/O, in little space. 

Genre: Fluff + mildly suggestive

Disclaimer: Little space is not an inherently nsfw or suggestive topic-- it’s only marked as such in the directory as a preface for those who may be unfamiliar since the dialogue contains some mature themes. xo

Chan: 

His instinctive caretaker mode would sense the shift in your demeanor without you having to say a word. If the two of you were alone he would’ve scooped you up into his arms without hesitation, but being in the van with the other members made things difficult. He’d find a balance between making sure you knew he was there for you while still maintaining a level of professionalism. The other members were taking photos to post on the group instagram later that night and he didn’t want to interrupt their fun, but he’d first and foremost make sure you were comfortable and felt safe. 

*watching you with soft eyes as you curled up in your seat across from him and pulled your knees close to your chest, only turning away from you when Jisung tapped him on the shoulder to take a picture of him for social media*

“Hyung, pose!” He’d make a peace sign with one hand and face the younger member for the photo, all the while his free hand was out of shot placed firmly on your thigh, squeezing you lightly as reassurance that he’d take you somewhere quieter as soon as he could. 

*turning away form the camera and leanig in to whisper in your ear*

“You’re being such a good (girl/boy) for Daddy, just wait a little bit longer and we can go home, ok?”

Minho: 

Minho may not come across as the warmest person on the outside, but your little space had a way of bringing out the softest and most adoring side of him, he couldn’t help but to smile around you and you can bet that when you’re in little space he’s giving you everything you want-- is definitely a pushover when it comes to enforcing rules.

*smiling brightly and laughing as he watched you stack up pillows from the couch to build a fort on the floor*

“Yahh, baby we need those to sit on!”

*his laughter growing louder as you teased him, playfully hitting him with a pillow and whining*

“Daddyyyy,I wanna make a fort, please?”

*smiling brightly as he placed a hand gently on the top of your head, patting your hair and giggling at how sweet you looked*

“Aish...you’re too cute to say no to, promise Daddy you’ll help me put them back after, ok?”

Changbin: at an mv shoot and he notices you pouting bc ur sleepy

He could tell the moment you waddled up to him on set and rubbed your eyes that something was different, and as soon as he made eye contact with you he could tell you were in your little space. He’d immediately soften his expression, looking around to see if there was anywhere quiet he could have you stay until he was finished working for the night, worried that the music video set would be too hectic for you.

*staring at you sweetly as he stepped closer to you, knowing that proximity to him made you feel safer especially when you were in a little headspace*

“Is my baby sleepy?”

*nodding as you fiddled with the strings of his hoodie that you’d slipped on over your clothes, watching as your boyfriend rubbed his chin with the pad of his thumb in thought*

“Aishh... how about this, let me finish filming my shots and then I’ll take you home right now, ok honey? Can you wait for Daddy for 15 more minutes?”

Hyunjin: 

He wouldn’t notice right away that you’d become more quiet, curling up on the floor of the dance studio against your boyfriend’s duffle bag as he continued to rehearse with the other members. After they’d finished a run-through of the dance, however, he’d look over and immediately pick up on your shift into little space. he’d immediately become worried and flustered, not wanting to over-exert you physically or mentally.

*crouching down onto the floor and giving you a pouty stare as he made sure you were ok*

“Baby (girl/boy)-- what’re you doing down here, hm? Do you need anything, is it too loud in here?”

*nodding softly as you perked your head up a little, sucking absentmindedly on one of your fingers as Hyunjin nodding in understanding*

“There’s some snacks in my bag for you, why don’t you eat something and put some earbuds in, I promise I’ll be done soon, ok?”

Jisung: 

When you started falling asleep with your head against the table as your boyfriend worked on lyrics for the upcoming album across from you, he woudn’t notice at first that you’d slipped into little space. As soon as he looked up from his computer, however, he’d realize and wouldn’t hesitate to shift into his sweet caretaker role. 

*taking your hand in his gently and pulling you up so that you were sitting up*

“Baby I know you wanna sleep but our dinner is on the way and you need to eat, ok? You need to stay awake for me sweet pea.”

*whining softly as you rubbed your eyes*

“D-daddy I’m tired...”

*flashing you a small smile as he began making cute gestures in hopes of making you smile, squeezing your cheeks and then doing the same to his own as you giggled*

“Should we do something then, baby? So you can stay awake? Or maybe just laugh at daddy’s funny faces, hmm?”

Felix:

The environment at the company dinner and was filled with boisterous laughter and chatter, so when you padded up to Felix with your gaze locked on the floor he wouldn’tt be surprised by your obvious shift into little space. He’d do his best to be there for you while still speaking quietly so that his members around him didn’t hear the two of you talking-- not wanting to embarrass you.

“What is it baby, are you ok?”

*shaking your head softly as Felix stared up at you from his seat attentively, his hand finding the hem of your shorts and playing with it absentmindedly*

“I-I left m-my stuffy in the car...”

*his expression serious as he took in what you were saying, never belittling or teasing you when you were in little space; the playful and teasing side of your relationship would completely shift into pure doting and adoration in these moments*

“You left your stuffy in the car baby? No no no, here take my hand, I’ll get the keys from manager hyung and we can walk down there together, ok?”

Seungmin: 

The two of you are on your way to watch a late night movie and going back and forth trying to decide on what you wanted to watch. The instant that he suggested a recently released thriller movie that he’d been interested in he saw your face shift into one of fear and nervousness as you shook your head-- and he quickly caught on to your shift. He’d smile brightly as a way of reassuring you that he’d never let you watch something that made you uncomfortable, despite his playful remarks.

*raising his hands up and barring his teeth cutely as he mimicked a monster*

“Awww, my baby’s scared? Do you think there’ll be monsters that’ll jump out at us?” 

*chuckling as you shook your head rapidly, sticking your tongue out at him as he giggled and pulled you closer towards him*

“I’m teasing baby, when we get there you can pick a movie you wanna watch, ok? No extra candies though, y/n, I don’t want my pretty (girl/boy)’s teeth to rot.”

Jeongin: 

He was always pretty perceptive when it came to your shifts, so when you sat down on his lap while he was working with tears bubbling up in your eyes he could tell you were coping with a long and difficult day. He wouldn’t ask you to talk much about it, he knew more than anything you needed someone to take care of you and brighten your spirits. 

*smiling softly as he leaned closer to you and wiped the small tears from your cheeks before adjusting the beanie on his head and fiddling with the strings on his hoodie to distract you*

“baby, look-- do I look cute like this, hm?

*sniffling as you nodded, smiling slightly*

“Don’t cry baby...I’ve got you, should we go get you something to eat? I bet that’ll make you smile.”

[lahyene]

Midnight Drive.

Pairing: stepdad!ransom x reader (18 y/o)

Summary: Your household changes when your mother is forced to marry Ransom Drysdale as a part of a business deal. Even though he’s technically your stepdad now, it’s sure hard to see him that way when you’ve already developed a bit of a crush on him. 

Themes: infidelity, smut, car sex, choking, daddy kink

Word count: 1632

He rubs his temples in utter annoyance as his wife, your mother, goes on and on, lecturing him about how he shouldn’t spend such late nights at the country club with his friends now that he’s a married man. He’s tired, irritated, and ready to snap any second. Both families are well aware this marriage is simply a business transaction. Your mother’s grandparents are well known in the publishing world, as is Ransom’s grandfather. The two combining efforts brings wealth beyond belief, if everyone cooperates. However, the thirty-six year old man had no idea that his new wife would nag so damn much.

He had also been a bit wary of the idea of having an eighteen year old stepdaughter. Your forty year old mom had you quite young, and so having a “father” figure who was just a few years younger than her did not feel too different. 

Except for the fact that he was really nothing like a father to you whatsoever. At first, the two of you somewhat ignored each other. It was when he discovered you knew how to hold your alcohol that he became intrigued, and the two of you would start drinking together and actually getting to know each other. He’s blunt, sarcastic, crude, and sometimes even a little mean to you, but oddly enough, you like it. After being a part of such a rich and stuffy family, his straightforwardness often feels refreshing.

You walk into the room, feeling a bit sympathetic that he’s currently facing your mother’s wrath. Not to mention angry. You’re the only one who knows that your mom has been cheating on Ransom; an arranged marriage would never hold someone as feisty as her down. You feel a strange sense of protectiveness towards this man, and you have no idea why. Perhaps because you’ve developed a bit of a crush on him.

You know it’s wrong. But so is everything about this twisted marriage, and so you figure your crush wouldn’t harm anyone. Your mom doesn’t even care about him.

“Mom. Can you please stop yelling? The entire neighborhood can hear you.” You look at her in annoyance, coming over to sit on the armrest of Ransom’s chair. “You hang out with your friends all the time, why can’t he?”

Ransom blinks but looks up at you in slight amusement, the corner of his lips barely tugging upwards. He seems to have missed your subtle emphasis on the word “friends”, but your mom sure didn’t. 

“Y/N,” she immediately scolds, eyes narrowing slightly. “Stay out of this. Just go back to your room and get to bed, you have class tomorrow morning.” 

Ransom arches an eyebrow, placing a hand on your back. “She’s eighteen and in college now, for God’s sake- don’t tell her to go to her room.” He suddenly stands up, gesturing for you to stand as well. “I’m taking her on a drive. You need to fuckin’ calm down or something, I’m not listening to you scream your goddamn brains out at me anymore.” 

“In the Beemer?” you immediately ask hopefully, eyes lighting up as you ignore your mother’s incredulous expression. Ransom chuckles lowly, nodding his head.

“The Beemer. Let’s go.”

- - - - - - - - - -

“God. What a shit show.” Ransom lifts a cigarette to his lips to light it, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes as he takes a drag. The car is parked on some mountainous hiking trail, nothing before you but the nature under a starry night sky. You’ve never seen anything so beautiful; this certainly beats being at home with your angry mother.

“Can I have one?” you ask him hopefully as you eye the box, and he scoffs in response, glancing to you briefly before closing his eyes again.

“Hell, no. What are you trying to ruin your lungs for? Besides, your mom will be able to smell it on ya in a heartbeat.” He opens his eyes, taking another drag as his blue hues study the scenery. “She always been like that?”

“Wow, look at you, stepping up as a father.” You drawl sarcastically, but lean back in your seat, looking ahead too. “No. Guess she’s just stressed lately.”

“God, do not call me that.” He rolls his eyes, even shuddering slightly. “Aren’t we all? She doesn’t have to be such a--”

“Careful, Ransom, she’s still my mom.” You warn him playfully, arching a brow. “What, you don’t want to be a father?”

“A father, no. A daddy? Sure.” He replies with a smirk, turning his head to look at you. “So if you’re looking for one of those, I can definitely help you out.”

You can’t help but blush, not having expected him to flirt with you so openly. “What if I said I was?” you ask somewhat boldly, keeping your eyes on him to see his reaction.

He blinks, looking at you for a few moments as he takes another drag, then suddenly puts out the cigarette altogether and tosses it outside. He then sits up straighter, shifting himself to face you, leaning in close so his eyes can lock onto yours. 

“Then I’d accuse you of bluffing.”

Your breath hitches slightly as you stare into those ocean eyes, a little intimidated. You’re considering pulling back, telling him that it’s getting late and you should be getting to bed soon- but you realize you’ll only end up being disappointed with yourself if you go down that route. You have to at least try.

And so you lean in too, connecting your lips with his, kissing him as fiercely as you possibly can. Fuck it, you’re going to give it your all. 

You know it’s working when he grabs the back of your neck with one massive hand, his kiss far more rough and dominant than you could ever be. You gasp when he pushes his tongue into your mouth, exploring as his fingers pull your hair- his other hand goes to your thigh, squeezing hard. You’re already overwhelmed, but in the best way possible.

“Well, what do you know,” he mutters huskily between kisses, just barely pulling back to offer you his devious smirk, eyes alight with mischief. “I guess I was wrong.”

You giggle breathlessly as you pull him back in for another passionate kiss, murmuring playfully, “Wow, have you ever said that before?”

It isn’t long before the two of you are fumbling with your clothes, him hastily removing his belt in order to lower his jeans as you wiggle out of your shorts and move your panties to the side, situating yourself on his lap as smoothly as possible. He leans over to grab a condom from the dash- you give him a look and he simply smirks, shrugging nonchalantly. “You never know, right?” He suddenly pauses, looking up at you suspiciously. “Wait. Have you done this before?”

“Did you think I was a good, innocent little virgin, Ransom?” you whisper teasingly, plucking the condom from his hand and opening the package, sliding it over his thick length. You see him look annoyed, clearly from being protective, and you can’t help but laugh. “Relax. I’ve only slept with one guy before.” You raise a brow, wrapping your arms around his neck. “But I bet you’ll know what you’re doing way more than he did.”

“Oh, you got that right.” He mutters, suddenly grabbing your hips and lifting you up. “He was probably your age, huh? I’m going to be the first man you fuck, baby doll, get ready.” 

You gasp as he sinks you down onto his length, your sultry moan escaping your lips almost instantaneously as you hold onto his slicked back hair. “O-oh... Ransom!”

“Don’t you mean Daddy?” he hisses with a smirk, moving one hand to slap your ass roughly. “Let’s try that again.”

He bucks his hips upwards roughly, making you whimper loudly in pleasure. “Daddy!” You’re quick to correct yourself, tilting your head back as you start bouncing on his huge cock, pulling on his hair. “Oh, my God, you’re so... fucking big...!”

“Yeah? You like Daddy’s big cock deep inside that little tummy, baby girl?” he growls, groping your ass with one hand practically using his hold to move you up and down with ease. “Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Shit you feel good. You’re such a good girl for Daddy, huh?”

“Unn... yes, yes! That feels... so good!” you cry out in delight, bouncing up and down on his dick, riding him harder and faster as you move your hands to dig your nails into the fabric of his expensive shirt. His hands move all over your body, groping your breasts, playing with your nipples, squeezing your waist, even choking you at one point as he continues thrusting upwards into you, occasionally smacking at your ass so hard you’re sure there’ll be marks by the morning. You’re in absolute heaven from all the sensations, your eyes nearly rolling back as you moan louder and louder.

You’re completely breathless as you find your release, panting and shuddering just from hearing the low and husky timbre of his groan when he comes. You slowly lift yourself up, getting back in your seat somewhat haphazardly as you fix your panties and shorts. He removes the condom and tosses that into the bushes without a care in the world, adjusting his belt and jeans. 

“I can’t believe we did that,” you breathe out, running your fingers through your hair as you lean back, staring ahead with wide eyes.

“Yeah? Because that was only the first of many, my dear.” Ransom looks to you with a breathless smirk before reaching for another cigarette, leaning back rather heavily as he lifts it to his lips to light it. 

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Twenty-Four: And the Rest is Silence

And this is it: the final chapter! It’s been insane, but this is the only fanfiction I've ever finished before, and it wouldn’t have happened without all the support. Thank you so much!! I didn’t think anyone would read this, but seeing everyone’s reactions to each chapter has kept me going :D

I’m sorry for the essay, but I’m aware I didn’t post anything about this in the AIB tag. Yes, there will be a sequel!

I need to read the manga properly before writing it, so I don’t know when the sequel will start. But in the meantime, there’ll be a series of Chishiya one-shots of his perspective, and there’ll even be scenes that weren’t in this fic, plus an original game!

For the full fanfic, you can find it here on AO3. 

I’ll also be creating a master list, and I'll post the literature references after this for those who wanted them <3

Once again, thank you so much!! And I hope you enjoy this last chapter. 

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

By the time Kuina found us again, it was already late afternoon, and even though our visas had extended by ten days after the Witch Hunt game, there was something about the setting of the sun that felt foreboding.

We lit up the furniture shop with candles and changed into the clean clothes we’d collected. Seeing Chishiya wearing ordinary clothes felt strange. Aside from when we’d crossed paths in the Tag game, the entire time I’d known him he’d been wearing swim shorts and flip flops.

Now, he emerged from the bathroom wearing grey sweatpants and a variegated blue cardigan that suited him perfectly. When his eyes flickered to mine, I realised I’d been staring, and distracted myself with preparing dinner instead. It wasn’t much, especially since all I had was canned goods and a camping stove, but the vegetable stew kept us warm while we curled up in our makeshift living room. As evening turned to night, however, it became obvious that something was missing.

There are no games.

Kuina chewed on her lip, looking out of the window. ‘What d’you think will happen when our visas run out?’

‘It probably has something to do with the Ten of Hearts,’ I told her. ‘Maybe there’s no need for games anymore, since we’ve got all the numbered cards.’

It didn’t bode well for us. If there were no games by the time our visas ran out, there was no chance of us getting out of the Borderlands. At least not alive.

As the night wore on, Kuina was the first to go upstairs. Covering her yawn with her hand, she waved goodnight and winked at me. I tried not to blush. Not that it made a difference, anyway. Chishiya was busying himself over a scrap of paper, and barely reacted when I smushed up by his side.

I frowned at the paper in his hand. ‘Isn’t that...’

‘Ah.’ He held it out so I could see it. ‘I took it from the tagger’s pocket.’ It was a drawing of a circle with squiggly lines, clearly a rushed sketch of something. In the middle of a line, the pen had stabbed a hole straight through.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, I have an idea,’ he said, but never elaborated.

Fighting the onset of sleep, I leaned my head against his shoulder, paying no mind to the way he tensed beneath me. The fabric of his cardigan was soft as down and made for a perfect pillow. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’

‘And if I don’t want to?’

I pushed my face into the fabric, pretending to settle in for the night. ‘Then I’ll just stay here and annoy you until your visa runs out.’

‘I have a feeling that won’t happen any time soon,’ he said, looking out the window.

And that was when I noticed it too. Midnight had passed by only a few minutes ago, yet there were no lasers. Did that mean the Borderlands were at a standstill? Were we stuck here permanently now? I wasn’t aware of how silent I had become, lost in my own thoughts, until Chishiya spoke up.

‘I believe it’s a map.’

My eyes slid to the drawing again. ‘And that hole in the paper, do you think that’s where the others are? The dealers, I mean.’

He shifted uncomfortably and I sat upright, conscious that I might have been unintentionally hurting or bothering him. Looking at the map properly, the lines could represent different interlocking pathways. If the marked place was a hideout of some kind, it couldn’t be in the open streets; there was too big a risk that a player might stumble upon it by accident.

So where...?

As soon as the idea came to mind, the words slipped out of my mouth. ‘The subway....’

He hummed in agreement. ‘I went to the nearest subway station this morning to check it against the real map. It’s a loose fit, but it works.’

I thought back to the second tagger – the crying woman – and how she’d been forced to participate in the game, donning an explosive collar. ‘Maybe if we find the place, we’ll get some answers.’

‘Probably,’ he said. ‘But I’m curious to see if anything changes within the next few days.’

‘Do you think we’ll hear something soon?’ I asked, yawning into my hand.

‘I believe we will.’ He gave me that same half-smile I had grown so used to. ‘But right now, I think you should go to sleep.’

Chishiya didn’t complain when I crawled into his bed. Like the night before, he kept his distance, but I could’ve sworn at times, when my sleeping became lighter throughout the night, I could feel fingers lightly touching my hair, only to pull back the moment I stirred. Over the next few days, it became the norm, and every night I would curl up on my side of the bed, slipping into calm dreams under the blue light of the window.

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

Despite the sunshine washing over the grey of the city, the stairs leading into Minami-Aoyama station descended into darkness. We’d checked and double-checked the drawing against the official subway map several times, but the idea of entering an abandoned station to uncover who knows what wasn’t inviting.

‘Are you sure this is it?’ Kuina asked for the third time.

I looked at the route map hanging over the station entrance, my eyes tracing the shape of the lines. ‘Positive.’

Folding her arms, Kuina went first. I waited for Chishiya to take a small torch from his pocket before following behind. The station was truly submerged in blackness, and if not for Chishiya’s torch, we would have easily become lost. He shone the beam at the paper in his hand, then held it up against each train line.

‘This way,’ he said, and walked towards the edge of the platform.

We hopped down onto the gravel below, using the metal tracks to guide us further into the tunnels. It was disconcerting to see the subway so empty, but with Kuina and Chishiya here, I felt safe somehow.

Several minutes in, Chishiya stopped abruptly, and I almost walked into him. If he reacted at all, I couldn’t see to tell. But he seemed more focused on something else, as he pointed the torch at a door that had been busted open.

‘That must be it.’ Kuina’s voice echoed.  

Without hesitation, Chishiya disappeared through the door, leaving Kuina and I in the darkness.

Chishiya?!

I panicked, arms waving as I tried to find something to hold onto. I heard Kuina hiss as we stumbled into each other and bumped elbows. Feeling around for the door frame, we managed to make our way inside, where Chishiya held his torch at us from further away.

‘Hey!’ Kuina snapped. ‘Don’t do that again! You’re the only one with a light here.’

‘Walk faster then,’ he said, waiting impatiently as we jogged over.

He shone the beam in the opposite direction, where it bounced off something. It was still too dark to tell just what, but as we walked forwards, everything became clearer. A structure lay ahead, with tunnels and walkways all leading into a giant room. Overhead, wires were strung across the ceiling, all feeding into the same place. We entered through one of the tunnels, and my heart jumped.

Televisions. They stared, black and empty, in rows and columns up the walls. But what was even more surprising was the setup right in front of us. It was an office, with papers, pen pots and coffee-stained mugs strewn about on desks. It would have looked like any other workplace, if not for the bodies draped in chairs and across the floor.

‘What... is this?’ I crouched to inspect the body of a man in a suit. Judging from its state, he had only died recently, but more importantly, there was a singed hole running through his head. He had been killed by a laser. ‘They’re not the ones in charge of the games.’

Chishiya closely inspected a desk. ‘Evidently not,’ he said, picking up a folded piece of paper and passing it to me. It was filled with numbers, some ticked off. Whoever it had belonged to was keeping track of their visa.

They’re playing games too, I thought. Or at least, they were.

‘So, these guys were the dealers.’ Kuina gingerly held up a sheet of paper with scribbles all over it. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be odds. ‘They were betting on us,’ she said.  

A shiver ran along my skin. Of course, they had been watching us this whole time, that was expected. But to place bets on our survival was a whole other story. If the dealers were playing too, there must’ve been a separate system for them to extend their days. Perhaps how many people survived each game had some kind of impact on their visas.

A finger lightly brushed the back of my arm and Chishiya appeared beside me. ‘Momoka’s friend,’ I said, ‘she died right after she told everyone she was a dealer. And the taggers died because we won. I have a feeling their visas depended on whether or not we cleared each game... or maybe how many people didn’t make it.’

From his expression, I knew he had been thinking the same thing. ‘It doesn’t explain why they’re all dead now.’

I glanced around at the stiffened bodies slumped around us. ‘Actually, I have a bad feeling about that too.’

At that moment, a tap of footsteps echoed from the entrance. Chishiya instantly turned off his torch and tugged me into one of the tunnels. Kuina joined us and we hid, waiting. The footsteps grew louder, closer, and two torchlights waved through the darkness. I kept my eyes trained on the tunnel opposite as the footsteps paused.

‘Where is this place?’  

‘Who knows?’

With a sigh, I relaxed instantly.

Those two.

It had only been a few days since I had made peace with Arisu and Usagi, but I was glad to see them again. Arisu was cleaned up, his wounds well on the way to healing, while Usagi stared in amazement at the television screens around us.

Chishiya grazed past me as he moved out from under the shadows. ‘You actually found this place,’ he said. ‘As expected from someone I have high hopes for.’  

‘We meet again,’ Kuina said, walking around the desks to lean against the wall.

Arisu and Usagi’s eyes scanned the two of them before stopping at me. They looked visibly confused, probably wondering what I was doing with them after I’d told them I wasn’t involved in Chishiya’s setup. In an attempt at diffusing the awkwardness, I smiled and waved.

‘You guys,’ Usagi whispered. Her voice bordered on distrust, not that anyone could blame her.

I couldn’t tell whether Chishiya was trying to make things better or worse when he held up the full deck of cards and smiled. ‘Thanks to you guys, I have all the playing cards with me,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

Arisu only looked at him cynically. ‘How did you discover this place?’

Chishiya rooted in his pocket and pulled out the drawing. ‘It took me some time to realise this is actually a map. The route map of the subway.’ He sauntered around the desks. ‘As for what happens when we collect the cards... I thought I would know the answer if I came here.’ His eyes jumped to mine. ‘But there’s something else we discovered instead.’

‘They’re not the gamemasters,’ Arisu said, eyes fixed on the bodies around us.

I stepped over a hand strewn across the floor. ‘カードを集めたので、殺された.’ Because we collected the cards, they were all killed. I struggled for a moment, trying to think of the right words. ‘There must be someone above them.’

Chishiya translated, and Usagi turned to me with worry. ‘But who?’

‘Who knows?’ Chishiya shrugged. ‘They might be aliens... or even God.’

The idea didn’t sound as strange as it should have done. We were in a world where lasers appeared from the sky, and death games were the norm. Even when I first arrived here, I’d wondered whether this was a form of judgement. Nothing was out of the question anymore.

Suddenly, the screens burst into life and white light flooded the room. I jumped, flocking to Chishiya and Kuina’s side.

Have we been caught?

Music reverberated all around us, and the screens displayed all four card suits, along with a message I couldn’t read. It didn’t matter though, as the voice that rang through the speakers was one I remembered well. My stomach dropped.

‘Congratulations to all players!’

The screens blurred until Mira’s wild eyes and subdued smile came into focus. It was now obvious why the Ten of Hearts had taken place at the Beach at the very moment things had fallen apart.

She must’ve been feeding information back, I thought. But back to where?

‘How interesting,’ Chishiya said. Seeking stability, I slipped a hand into his pocket. There was a slight hesitation before his fingers laced around mine.

Mira’s voice shook with a quiet excitement. ‘With the exception of the face cards, you’ve all cleared the numbered games and emerged as victors. It’s a sweet victory, gained by sacrificing so many lives.’ Her expression turned wistful as she stood. ‘I wonder, how many of your comrades have died. Try remembering those who were shot dead with guns.’

A single screen switched to show footage from a miscellaneous game. A group were stood, clutching their guns as they inspected the scatter of bodies across the ground.

They’ve been recording us.

‘And that girl you burned alive.’

A second display opened up, revealing several players watching on as a girl, engulfed in flames, struggled and clawed at her skin and clothes. I held my breath, Niragi’s animalistic cries ringing through my memory.

‘Those struck by lasers, and those that drowned.’

My eyes widened, and I gripped Chishiya’s hand as the inside of the furniture store appeared on-screen. The fractured image of myself flinched, quivering with shock, as the first man and Green Shirt leapt from their seats, only to crumple to the ground, lasers piercing them where they stood.

Chishiya’s fingers squeezed mine, and I gasped, blinking away the image. He must’ve seen it too.

‘Those who’s heads were blown off,’ Mira continued, dreamily. ‘Those comrades of yours, the despair you’ve felt so far, and those dying moments you’ll never forget.’

The screen changed once more, and from the corner of my eye, Arisu winced. Following his gaze, I recognized his partner from the Tag game, his neck exploding around a collar.

I’m so sorry....

Meanwhile, Mira’s expression shifted into pure, childlike delight. ‘Everyone... I’m so touched!’ She held her hand over her heart. ‘All of you players, we’d like to give you a present.’

We?

Chishiya tensed slightly. He had noticed it too. If Mira wasn’t the only gamemaster, just who were the others?

Although Mira couldn’t hear us, Kuina mumbled, ‘Are you returning us to the real world?’

It seemed too good to be true, and sure enough, it was. Mira clapped her hands together excitedly. ‘There will be new games! Let’s play more games together and fight for the face cards this time!’

Aside from Chishiya, everyone sank with disappointment and fear. Just how much more would we have to deal with before we could go home? If we were competing for the face cards, did that mean there were only twelve more games in total, or would there be repeat cards like there were for the numbered ones?

Kuina groaned. ‘New games? You’re kidding.’

‘I don’t dislike the idea,’ Chishiya murmured.

I looked at him, curious. ‘What do you mean?’

His expression was guarded, but before he could reply, Mira’s voice cut in again. ‘The next stage will commence tomorrow at noon. Everyone, let’s have fun together!’

All at once, the screens shut down, leaving us all in the darkness once more. Everything was quiet as we came to terms with what had just happened. It was Arisu who first suggested that we get out of here. Him and Usagi disappeared back through the tunnel, and with one glance at Chishiya and I, Kuina followed.

My fingers were still interlaced with his, hidden within the warmth of his pocket. He was watching me, waiting.

‘These games,’ I said. ‘They’re going to be harder than the others.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘Probably.’

‘About what you said before...’ I began. ‘Do you remember that time on the rooftop of the Beach, when I asked you if you were okay, and you told me it shouldn’t matter to me.’

I could see him thinking back. ‘I remember.’

‘What I said then still stands. You might not care about your own life, and I can’t stop you from taking part in these new games.’ I bit my lip, unable to face him as my eyes began tearing up. ‘Perhaps this is selfish of me, but you need to survive. And if you can’t do it for yourself, then....’

He sighed. ‘You cry too much.’ When I looked up, his lips were curled into that same, familiar smile, only this time, there was nothing cruel or condescending there. ‘We should find the others.’

Wiping my eyes with the edge of my sleeve, I finally let go of his hand, following him back out and through the tunnels. As we climbed the steps of the station, emerging into daylight, a series of loud bangs resounded throughout the city. The others were peering up at the skyscrapers towering over us, and the fireworks that burst like flowers against the sunlight.

‘Let’s make a new deal,’ Chishiya said, idly watching the display. ‘I’ll survive, if you return the favour.’

I looked to him, admiring the way his hair shifted in the breeze, and how the reflection of the fireworks danced in his dark eyes.

Let’s go home together.

‘It’s a deal.’

[florencwrites]

prisoner 〚dreamwastaken〛

in which [reader] will always wait for him, in which dream is no longer dream

(!) blood, torture, emotional trauma (!)

If there's one thing that Dream had taught me; it was that persistence is key. "Stubbornness gets you places." He had always told me, laying in the grass against that same scratchy birch tree several times a week. He'd lay his head in my lap and hum songs while I played with his hair. He'd often pluck the grass and drop it on my knees, or draw little smiley faces on my skin.

He'd never meant for this to happen, for it all to happen. All along, all he had wanted was to be one big happy family, to give all his friends that exact feeling he had never gotten. He'd go out of his way to make people smile. Make them live in harmony, helping with crops and mining, even going as far as spending hours trying to find traces of ancient debris; all to make his friends content. He never wavered in his goals, always trying to convince people to see the best in everyone. Hoping that if he just kept smiling, one day, everyone would be smiling right back at him.

However, lately, his smile had rarely been genuine, really, the only time I ever saw the true glint of faith in his pupils was when we laid against that tree, humming songs and basking in the sun. He was having trouble keeping up his positive outlook, everywhere he looked there were pets dying and friendships breaking up. Houses being destroyed and families torn apart because of stupid things. Items that held no worth, that could never hold any worth as important as family or friends did.

"Stubbornness gets you places." He'd always say when I scolded him for acting like a brat. Unfortunately, the only place it had gotten him so far was in prison. I was reminded of this fact daily, returning to the impenetrable walls every minute I wasn't spending eating, at all hours of the day and night. My sobs echoed through the obsidian, mimicking the wails of the many ghasts that had tried to pass through generations of the dark purple stone. The block seemed to have created itself a connection to grief, mourning even. I pounded on the wall, to no avail I'd realized quite quickly on, until both my knuckles and palms were bloody and bruised, and I did it every single fucking day. I'd do everything to have him back in my arms, anything.

On the lonely nights, the residing heat in the obsidian often brought me warmth. The bubbles in the stone leaving marks on my shoulders. Often the warmth reminded me of him, of his chest pressing against my back. I could feel the ghost of his fingertips scour my arms, the glow of the obsidian on my neck making it almost appear as if he really was right there behind me, softly breathing into my skin. The lonely nights were good.

Because the nights where I wasn't alone, were nights I spent listening to his agonizing screams from deep within the fortress. Nights where the obsidian worked his torturous wonders and elated itself on the reminders of the excruciating pain that was put onto him. The nights where I couldn't physically bring myself to leave until his squeals had subsided, where I choked on my own tears until I could finally hear him sob again. Sobbing was good, sobbing meant that they had left him to be on his own at last, because sobbing meant that he was weak enough to them, and finally; sobbing meant no more torture.

Sam's shoes had been loud against the obsidian tiling, almost loud enough to distract me from the muffled growls that came from underneath them. Bubbling snarls that indicated that no man would be left alive, not when they breach these walls and definitely not when their body touches the water that surrounds it. He had caved, at last. He'd hastily ushered me inside late at night in the hopes of no person seeing the enormous gates open for the first time in weeks. I had clung to his waist, my knees failing me when he told me I was allowed one visit. No talking about it ever, or I'd see the same fate as my 'little boyfriend'.

He turned another corner as I cursed myself for not remembering the path we took, nor the redstone mechanisms he used to get me through the many disappearing doors. "There'll be a change of guards in 30 minutes, I need you outside in 20, got it?" His face was tense, eyes set sternly onto mine. I nodded, my head felt woozy from all the emotions swirling around it during these past few months, along with the lack of sleep, dehydration, and now adding to the list; the thought of finally seeing him again.

The umpteenth contraption boomed from beneath our feet, an almost rhythmic banging from right beneath our feet, slowly making it towards the wall in front of us. Slowly but surely the barricade was lifted, an immediate cry escaping from my lips as I saw the state of him. He was surrounded by iron bars in a cage in the immediate center of the room, the walls surrounding it bearing enough obsidian to guarantee his permanent stay.

My heart ached physically at the sight of him, my body moving itself to press against the bars hard enough to leave bruises on my ribs, dropping to my knees instantly. I reached my arms through the gaps of the confinement, barely not being able to reach where he laid curled up on the floor. He was facing me, however, his arms were shielding his features from me entirely. Tears upon tears flooded from my face as I screamed for him to look at me. He shot up, his pupils wearing nothing but complete and utter terror. He let out a loud shout, telling me to 'please, don't, please'. I wrapped one hand around the iron bars, steadying myself as I softened my voice, "Dream, it's me, baby, it's me."

He was on one knee, leaning his entire body against the barrier on the other side of the room he had fled to on instinct. His head rested on the metal for a second before instantly shooting up to look at where the voice came from. "Don't do this again, please." He pleaded, his voice was desperate, hopeless. "Anyone's voice but hers."

"Dream?" My voice was as gentle and soft as I could possibly make it while also sounding urgent enough for him to realize I wasn't fake, I wasn't some recording they played to demoralize him. "Dream, please."

His body froze at the sound once again, however, this time he turned his body into the bars. His back.

Oh, god, his back. The white tee he had been wearing the day they took him away was barely existing on his back at this point. The fabric was torn all over, showing the dozens of deep gashes beneath. His skin was practically rotting away from the outside, however, some were new. I had heard him, yesterday, I had heard his agonizing cries for release, which is exactly why I was so adamant about staying by the walls all day today. I had heard them do this to him, and there hadn't been a single thing I did or could've done about it. A sudden, almost traumatizingly powerful scream entered the small room we were in, the obsidian jumping at the opportunity of echoing; anything to prolong our agony. "PLEASE, I'M BEGGING, LET IT STOP."

My body choked up at his words, entirely shaking as his misery took its place again in my heart. I sat down, leaning my head against the metal bars as I let myself sob with him. I glanced up at where he sat on the other side of the cell, his hands pressing against his ears hard enough he could pop an eardrum, his body trembling with utter horror, slowly swaying from side to side. His back was on full display as he sat hunched over, some of the gashes tearing open again at the tension of his skin. Trails of blood soaked whatever was left of his shirt, and I couldn't help but wail out again, my heart physically feeling like it was imploding. "What are they doing to you, baby."

His movements stilled, a good few seconds passed. His arms slowly rose to get a grip on the barricade. As soon as he established the anchor, he pulled himself from the floor, slowly turning to look into my dark corner again. "Dream, it's me, please, c'mere." I pleaded, hope filling my eyes that even after three entire months of mental and physical torture, he would trust me. I reached my arms through the gaps, reaching for him as he came into grasping distance. He stood an inch from my extending fingers, almost gazing down at them tauntingly. He hadn't looked me in the eye yet, keeping his focus completely trained on my hands.

Slowly, he lifted his eyes from my begging hands and looked up at me. "It's you."

"Yes! Yes! It's me, baby!" I almost cheered, my face pressing painfully hard against the bars, my entire body bruising at the constant impact.

His face was completely frozen, utter shock coursing through his features as he tried to figure out what was happening. "They did this to me."

"I know baby, I know." I nodded, confirming his words for him. Rationalizing that he was okay to not trust me, knowing his friends had betrayed him ultimately. "Please, let me touch you, I need to touch you."

He fell to his knees, ushering his arms through the barms to hug me through them. he held my body tightly as his body silently shook with sobs. "They did this to me." I hummed into his ear in response, knowing how lonely he must've felt, how worthless and discouraged. I felt my hands get coated in his blood as I clung to him tightly, crying together in utter misery. "I just wanted to keep it all safe."

I spoke carefully, my voice barely over a whisper, "What do you mean, Dream?" I rested my forehead against the same cross he did, the gaps between the bars barely not big enough to fit my entire head through. They were just there for decoration, really, the thousands of blocks of obsidian and the torture was what really kept him in place.

I watched him sniffle softly, his eyes squeezed closed almost painfully so, the raspy sounds that left his torn throat were a mere ghost of his normally smooth and silky voice. "I just wanted to keep it all safe," A shuddered breath interrupted him. I was clinging to his words, desperately wanting to hear what no one else had dared explain to me; why he was here. "I just wanted to make them happy, keep them safe." He gripped my shirt as he pulled me closer into his body, the warmth I radiated probably being the first source of heat he'd felt in months, besides from the occasional glow of obsidian. "The things they cared about, keep them safe."

A shaky sob left my lips as I let his words sink into my brain, only now realizing what he had done. His trembling voice made the hairs on my neck stand up, goosebumps appearing on my arms.

"All I wanted was to keep them safe and happy," He paused as a sob left his lips again. "One big happy family."

[peeterparkr]

Not smut but potentially one with Dick where him and the reader are keeping their relationship a secret and she stays over at his (😉) and in the morning they’re off to brunch with friends so try and enter the place at different times etc to not give it away that they came together and they think they’re safe until one of the gang says “hey! Isn’t that Dicks sweatshirt y/n?” And she gets all red and flustered - lol idk but that would be hella cute!

oh but there’ll be smut bc I combined it with this one, this is filth with some angst and then some fluff and it’s a rollercoaster

warnings: smut, swearing, 18+

word count: like 2,5k 

Busted. 

Love can be too complicated. Relationships are complicated. Dick Grayson was complicated. So much so that you preferred to keep it a secret.

Easier than having to explain to the world that in reality the feelings you had always had for him were never negative, they had always been awe and sometimes a little contempt, but you supposed that it was given to the fact that Dick was someone you thought you couldn’t have.

You hated that he was so perfect. It was a compliment to hate him, now you knew. He was always there with his perfect eyes that could kill you with just one look. That smile that could manipulate you. Make a fool out of you. 

We are talking about Dick Grayson, who really has got a bunch of problems, with the lack of love he had when growing up and the big abandonment issues, thanks, Batman. Always wanting to be alone.

Neither of you wanted to explain to the world that your whole act of hating the other was nothing more than a façade for the crush you both had towards the other and how much it frustrated that you couldn’t have the other. The nerves you would get whenever you saw him, all flustered, maybe that was why it was easier to insult him so that he would let you believe that you hated him and make you believe that you were not deeply in love with him.

How did you both reach that conclusion? How did you both realize that you were both desperately in love with each other? Being alone, what that can be. One thing led to another and as the big drama queens you both were, you’d both searched for the other in a stormy night just to end up making out with your clothes on the floor.

But you needed to keep that a secret, mostly because neither of you could understand how you could be so fond of someone who’d constantly make you lose your temper. Because you’re so alike, stubborn and incredibly bossy. 

Add to all of that, it’s Dick Grayson who we are talking about. He loves to make a big deal out of everything. But of course that’s only because he cares enough. Too much sometimes for your own convenience. 

There were still a lot of things you despised about him. Like whenever he would always be wrong, even when he is right. Or the way he’d make you smile even if you had basically ended an argument. 

The fact that at the end of the day, he was still a sweetheart.

But you had to hide it. Because you loved him. And who in this world understands love? You didn’t want anyone trying to explain it to you. You liked to figure it out on your own.

Besides hiding made it way much more interesting. It was a challenge. Even spiced things up in the relationship. You still hated him, to everyone else. And he still hated you. And sometimes you knew you both did hate each other, not pretending. So annoyed by each other’s presence because you’re both so equal yet so different. 

And you were very good at hiding it. Even when you couldn’t quite keep your hands to yourself. You’d manage to keep up the hating relationship to a certain level where they wouldn’t even think you’d ever be in the same room alone.

Sometimes the arguments would go a bit too far, but you’d end up apologizing and making it up in bed.

Just like you probably were going to, now. Rachel was there, watching you both make an argument about how stupid having brunch and inviting Jason Todd, whom you were pushing to get into the group. He was a nice addition.

Rachel was sitting with her feet up on the couch, as she was watching some videos on her phone, ignoring you both. However, truth to be told, you had almost forgotten that Rachel was there and it had kind of turned into a real fight. 

“I don’t want anything to do with Bruce Wayne, and Jason—Jason still has everything to do with him!” Dick yelled. 

You closed your eyes, “Oh my God, Dick, you’re not— this is what all of this is about?” 

Dick rolled his eyes. “No, but I… I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation. This is stupid–I…I am going home. Fuck Batman.”

You knew why this was happening, he saw himself in Jason Todd, he saw it too badly. But he saw a lot of things he never had had with Bruce and that bothered him, and that made Dick despise him even more. 

And you were home, and you were supposed to stay at home. Sleepover with young Rachel, you guys loved those, they meant fun nights.

You watched Dick storm off and slam the door. You wondered if it was part of the act or if he really meant it. Dick didn’t know Rachel knew. You knew she knew.

You squeezed your eyes shut. 

“You guys really hate each other don’t you?” Rachel asked you, she was going to stay the night. 

“You’ve no idea.” 

“But he didn’t mind about the brunch.”

You shrugged. “Thought he didn’t. But now he’s angry we are all spending it together like a big happy family.”

“Go, fix it, I’ll start the movie and you can come back later.” 

Rachel, you knew, was probably very aware of the real situation, not because you’d told her but you couldn’t possibly lie to her, but she hid it from everyone else, knowing  damn well you’d been hiding it for a reason.But you had never adressed it, and she had never asked about it. Maybe she didn’t know. You both were very convincing when it came to making everyone believe you hated each other. 

So you did as she said, you followed after him to his car. You hopped in.

“I’m leaving.”

“I know,” you said. “You can start driving, I’m coming with you.” Dick stared at you. You pointed at the road.

He clenched his jaw but started the car.

“Go to Wayne Manor,” you ordered.

“Wayne—“

“Batcave, more specifically,” you added. He stared at you. You smirked, running your hand through his thgh, and you could easily see a bulge forming in his pants. “Fuck Batman, right?”

He started driving as fast as he could and you let your fingers walk down his leg. 

“I’m not in the mood,” he snarled, but you looked down at the growing length.

“Seems like you are, though,” you pointed out, and you chuckled, leaning over to peck his cheek. He cleared his throat. But drove fast enough, you’d tease him, running your fingers through his arm, to his chest and to his leg, nowhere close, but enough to get him flustered. 

The Batcave, it gave you such a challenge. It was incredibly hot, to think you were sneaking there. As soon as he hit the brakes, he turned to you and unbuttoned your blouse, as he jumped over you, kissing your lips and trailing his way down to your neck, you moaned closing your eyes. The way he kissed you was always a new experience. 

“Wait– Dick,” you managed to say as he was already grinding against you, his hands pressing your breasts. He was sucking on your collarbone as you let out a soft gasp. “Want to piss off Batman more?” 

His eyes, filled with fire turned to you, as he just shot an eyebrow up. 

“Let’s go to the Batmobile,” and there’s a sound in your voice that made you sound even more into it than you actually were. If we were honest, you feared getting caught but, of course, it would make it a thousand per cent even more interesting. 

And in no time, he picked you up and opened up the doors to it, setting you down. It’s smaller than Dick’s but it doesn’t matter, because with no further ado, Dick pulled down your underwear and he’s set between your tighs. He kept kissing you and his fingers pinched your breasts, you could feel his hot breath as he pulled the seat down, making it easier for both of you. The reducted space pulled you even closer. Your legs were snaking around him as he kissed from the space between your breasts to your stomach. You looked up and took off his shirt, clawing your nails into his back as you pulled him down to your lips.  His own hands were caressing your legs, his fingers toying with you. 

Your lips were focused on his neck now, trailing wet kisses over it, and your hands were going down to knead his ass, as he was grinding into you, causing friction to your core, as the bulge on his pants kept growing.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, as you were unbuckling his belt with desperation. You were in such an ecstasy as you accidentally hit a button. The car announced ‘error’ but you were too busy as his cock had popped out. His fingers grazed over your wetness as his tip teased your clit. He loved teasing you. 

“Dickie, I–” 

“Say it,” he ordered. 

“I need you, now,” you pleaded and he finally thrust into you. He started panting as he started to move inside, finding a slow soothing rhythm. A smug smirk upon his face as you’re moaning his name. He was cursing profanities and then yelling your name. You see the car windows blurring up, as you try to keep yourself comfortable. Your hand found the window but you pulled it back down, leaving a mark of your fingers all over it. 

He was fast and his fingers are all over you, edging you close each time he drew circles on your clit. And he loved seeing your face as you’re at your bliss, and he began slowing down his pace as his own back was arching. But he started to thrust even deeper, as your toes start to curl. You came first, but that was the cue he needed for his own high.his hot breath deep on your neck. He yelled your name in pleasure and then found your neck with his lips, peppering kisses all over it, just as he pulled out from you. Your chest was pounding as you watched him.

“I love you, y/n,” he whispered, causing a  short laugh from you, catching your breath. 

“For what? For helping you break the rules?” You grinned looking up at him, and he kissed your lips again. 

“Making everything fun,” he laughed. “Did… did… you push any buttons?” 

You turned to look at the board, embarrassed. “Maybe, a thing or two.” 

And both of you heard footsteps.“Shit, shit, shit,” Dick pulled up his pants and buttoned your shirt back on, you both quickly ran out of the car and you hid on Dick’s backseat, as he tried to make himself presentable, but the sweat and his panting were not easy to hide.

It was Alfred. “Master didn’t know you were coming.”

Dick cleared his throat. “I was—“ he ran a hand through his hair. “I was just—going to check on some information regarding the—uh, case with Mikron O’Jeneus.”

Alfred stared at Dick’s car where you were holding your breath, praying to all known deities that he wouldn’t catch you.

“Alright ” Alfred nodded. “Whenever you get the chance, please send my regards to Miss Y/N, you and her seem to be close lately.”

Dick blushed and gulped. “We are—working together on the case, that’s all,” He assured him.

Alfred nodded. “Alright, master Grayson.” 

When Alfred was gone, you both laughed in the car. He went to his place where round two happened, nothing wild, it was simpler and more romantic. Dick had managed to now make it more soothing, apologizing for his bitching attitude and smiling each time he kissed you. And that was the sweetheart you knew, it was fun, the vigilante and the dark Dick but then turning him into the beautiful thing he was. You loved him for both, both ‘Dicks’ were fun, and you knew you needed his lips, and you knew he meant it every time he said he loved you, because each time it was different and like hearing it for the first time. 

And the morning had consisted of him peppering you with new kisses, he’d invent one each morning. It was a routine, making each kiss special each time you woke up by his side. As he managed to take your breath away with that smile that was reserved only for you. And you were lucky because he truly never smiled the way he did to you. And you were sure that nobody truly saw hi the way you did, as the blinds would let in the light so the sunlight bathed him and only him. 

He had pecked all over your face, tickling you as he did. “You’re an idiot,” you stated, which was your way of telling him you loved him. 

“I know,” he grinned, that was the way he said it back. 

And he agreed to the brunch, at the end. But you both had to be careful, so when you arrived he dropped you a block away from it, the price you had to pay for wanting to keep your relationship private. He walked into the place first, and you found a place beside Kori. 

You grinned as you said hello to everyone, and then you turned stiff when your eyes landed on Dick. “Grayson.” 

“Y/L/N,” He didn’t even look up. 

Jason Todd watched you both, “Please act decent,” he pleaded. “Don’t fight here.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you guys are so annoying,” Gar pointed out. 

Dick rolled his eyes. “We are adults, at least I’ll act like one, don’t worry.” 

You flipped him off, rolling your eyes, as you stole from Kori’s mimosa, taking a sip. 

“That’s mine,” she complained but ignored. 

Rachel stared at you. “Hey, y/n, why didn’t you come back home last night?” She asked. 

You almost spat your drink. “I did! You didn’t hear me and I woke up early for a run,” you lied. 

“Are you sure?” Kori pushed. “Because Alfred told me he saw you and Dick at the manor.” 

Dick laughed, nervously.  “Why would I be with her at the manor?”

“I dunno,” Kori smirked. “Same reason as to why she’s wearing your sweatshirt?” 

Both you and Dick froze.You stared down at your clothes, and you were indeed wearing a sweatshirt of his. 

“Busted,” all of them said. 

[cheri-translates]

[CN] S2 Gavin and MC in Chapter 2 - Part One

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for Season 2🍒

This takes place on the same evening as S1 Chapter 1. So read it first if you need a refresher! 

Timeline: Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2 -> R&S

Had to split this into three parts because it’s too long for one post!

Note: I won’t be doing main storyline translations for the other guys because I don’t have time to read the rest! 😭

Ch 2 begins with MC rushing to her company to find a group of reporters waiting at the entrance

What happened was that the STF received a tip that a large amount of prohibited drugs were found in the company’s warehouse, called “小针筒” ( “xiao zhen tong”) which directly translates to “small syringes”)

The reporters soon spot MC and barrage her with questions. MC tries to enter the company but can’t because of the crowd

??: Step aside.

A chilly voice appears. Along with the night breeze, the air surrounding the crowd lowers by several degrees in an instant. 

The people part into two sides on their own, in awe and veneration. At the end of this path, I see the face of Gavin. 

The boundless night causes his white uniform to appear even colder. His handsome brows are knitted tightly, and his gaze is deep as he walks towards me. 

Gavin: You’re the legal representative of [MC’s Company Name]?

There isn’t a hint of warmth in his voice. I take a deep breath, clenching my hands into fists.

MC: Yes. 

Gavin: [MC’s Company Name] is involved in the distribution of prohibited drugs. To cooperate with the investigation, please follow us to STF.

MC: Although I don’t know anything about what happened, I’m willing to cooperate with STF’s work. 

I raise both of my clenched fists in front of him. 

Gavin lowers his eyes to the fists I’ve raised. He casts a glance at the media personnel in the surroundings, then stares at me deeply, blinking slowly. 

With a ‘kacha’, he personally handcuffs my wrists. The cold light from the handcuffs, along with the continuous photoflashes, illuminate the night. 

Gavin: I’ll escort her myself. 

Before they embark to STF, Gavin is basically in Commander Mode™ and assigns work to various teams. Once he’s done, he asks MC:

Gavin: Isn’t there anything you want to tell me?

With this brief question, I lift my head and look into the rearview mirror.

Gavin’s gaze seems to have been waiting for a long time. 

I’m about to say something, but decide to purse my lips in the end, swallowing back the words. 

MC: Not “now.”

Gavin’s hands pause momentarily on the steering wheel. He retracts his gaze on the rearview mirror, and the air returns to silence. 

Gavin: We’ll talk in STF then.

In STF, MC has to remove all her devices and jewellery. Then, she waits in the interrogation room

MC starts pondering on how she has tried her best to avoid any large discrepancies in this world. Even so, Kiro’s anti-fans, the circulation of prohibited drugs, and Black Swan Core were not things that she recalls happening

She senses that there’s something off about this world, but can’t put a finger on it

The door opens to reveal an interrogator in his early 20s, and he doesn’t look amenable to reason

He fires questions at her harshly and she responds like a BOSS.

We get some important information from the interrogation: Apparently, the drugs enable Evolvers to have heightened abilities. If normal people use them, it could stimulate Evol abilities

Interrogator: Are you the enemy of the STF or the Special Operations Team?

His words leave me stunned. I lower my head and look at the handcuffs on my wrists. Gavin’s profile surfaces in my mind. 

I gradually loosen my tense shoulders, leaning my back against the chair. I lift my head, staring at the interrogator with resoluteness. 

MC: As long as the STF always perseveres in the direction of righteousness, and have every bullet fired in the name of justice, I’ll never be your enemy.

Interrogator: What if there comes a day when the STF leaves its path?

This question seems to slip out of his mouth without him realising it. But the corners of my lips lift slightly.

MC: At that time, there’ll be someone who will steer it back to the way it was. Because he’d never turn his back on the direction of justice. 

Hearing this, he suddenly laughs. 

The doors of the interrogation room are flung open. With a livid expression, Gavin walks in, glaring at him furiously.

Gavin: Tang Chao!

Tang Chao: I’m here!

The target of Gavin’s rebuke shrugs his shoulders, standing up gloomily. He teasingly leans over to Gavin, patting his shoulder flatteringly.

It’s as though he knows the art of changing faces.

[Note] MC is talking about 变脸 (“bian lian”), which is a Chinese drama art form where the actors use a device to change a mask on their face quickly.

Gavin: Participating in an interrogation on your own accord, violating...

Tang Chao: Commander Gavin, please listen to my explanation!

Tang Chao whispers something into Gavin’s ear, and Gavin’s brows smoothen out

MC guesses that Tang Chao told him about the contents of the interrogation

Once he’s done, Tang Chao hums a tune and prepares to leave the room

Gavin: But it’s still a violation. It will be marked as a minor offence. Report to the field. Twenty rounds. Close the door.

The bgm turns tense

After a moment of thinking, he walks over and removes the handcuffs on my wrists. 

His line of sight falls onto the slight redness of my wrists caused by the friction of the handcuffs, and his brows knit.

As though forcing himself to focus his concentration on what’s before him, he sits on the interrogator’s seat. 

Gavin: We’re now in the STF. Is there anything you want to tell me?

The same question as the one in the car. 

Our eyes meet. Perhaps he has been waiting for my answer all this time. 

MC starts explaining that her company has never been involved in the circulation of the drugs, but Gavin cuts her off and says that isn’t what he’s asking about

He asks if MC was the one who reported her own company to STF

MC wonders how he found out about it and Gavin is just REALLY COOL as he explains how he came to this deduction through the process of elimination

MC: It could also be... that my company was truly involved in the circulation of the drugs, and that someone discovered it and reported it?

I look at Gavin tentatively. 

His certainty that I was set up - is it because of the results from the interrogation with Tang Chao, or because he doesn’t doubt my words? 

With this, Gavin releases a cold “hmph”, as though he heard an interesting joke. 

Gavin: Have you done such a thing? 

MC: Of course I haven’t!

Gavin: So why should I waste my time on unnecessary inferences?

I freeze, and all the unease vanishes in an instant. My heart feels light, and I can’t help but lower my head with a smile. 

Gavin didn’t suspect me. He never did. 

Gavin: [coughs]. Back to the main subject.

MC confesses that she was the person who planned it. She planted fake drugs, and they were meant to lure the real circulators out

Gavin then points out that she didn’t have to implicate her own company

MC tells Gavin that she had three reasons for doing what she did. What Gavin pointed out was the second

The first reason was because she needed a safe place to talk to Gavin. To tell him about her suspicions that there’s a traitor in STF

Turns out Gavin already noticed it

SMART BOY is proud of himself:

Gavin’s suspicions were raised because the report relating to Kiro’s anti-fan incident didn't reach him (the anti-fan had traces of needles on his arm + he wasn’t very mentally stable - so he either injected himself with “Small Syringes” or it was forced onto him)

As for the third reason, MC tells him that it isn’t important -  it was so she could tell him the truth asap when she got the chance. However, since Gavin never misunderstood her in the first place, she doesn’t bring it up

MC starts feeling dejected because her plans to tell Gavin that there was an internal issue with STF were somewhat unnecessary, and Gavin had figured out MC’s plan so quickly

As though Gavin senses that I'm feeling slightly defeated, he casts his glance towards the floor, placing a hand on the nape of his neck.

Gavin: But all of these are just my conjectures. 

MC: Hm?

Gavin: Even though your actions are quite dangerous, they can prove my conjectures from a different perspective. In order to bring the truth to light. 

Is he... comforting me?

Gavin: But the reputational damage to your company - have you considered it?

MC: Of course. But I didn’t do those things, so I believe in proving my innocence. 

I tilt my chin slightly with a confident smile. Gavin seems to be infected by me, the corners of his lips curling upwards quietly. 

MC tries asking Gavin to supply information to her if the STF finds any, but he flatly refuses her. He’s confident in STF’s abilities to catch the guy behind the circulation

Gavin stands up and walks towards me, returning me my phone and jewellery. At the same time, he tosses me a bracelet. 

Suddenly, he freezes for a moment, as though he noticed something.

MC: What’s wrong? 

Gavin: You..

Gavin’s lips part slightly, but he doesn’t continue. His gaze once again lands on the ginkgo bracelet he just tossed over. 

I stare at the bracelet, then raise my head to look at Gavin. Puzzled, I lift it up.

MC: Is there a problem with this bracelet? 

Gavin: Have you been wearing it the whole of today?

Images of me coincidentally bumping into Gavin during the day resurface in my mind. 

I also remember that when I was held back, there was a foreign yet clumsy touch on my wrist.

At the time, I couldn’t see his expression clearly. Since Gavin didn’t make mention of it, I didn’t ask either.

Gavin: Aren’t you going to ask why I put this bracelet on for you earlier?

MC: Wearing this tracker is a way I show my trust. 

Gavin’s eyes suddenly grow sharp, but he conceals it in a second. He speaks in a slightly languid manner.

Gavin: What did you say?

I’m suddenly at a loss for words, realising that I shouldn’t have said what I did.

MC: I... was joking. I just thought it was something you'd say. After all, you wouldn’t give me a gift out of nowhere. 

Gavin: Why not? 

His sudden question leaves me at a loss, but he doesn’t seem to need an answer from me. 

Gavin: Forget it. Give me your hand. 

MC: Hm?

Gavin grips my wrist, then takes the ginkgo bracelet from my hand and carefully puts it on for me. 

Gavin: It wasn’t up to standard the last time, so I’ll do it again this time. 

MC: You need to be so particular about putting on a “tracker”?

The light ginkgo bracelet reflects specks of light, without a hint of a dangerous aura.

He smiles, the light in his eyes refreshing and evident, like the coolest breeze in summer.

Gavin: Of course.

He responds lightly, meticulously hooking the bracelet. His fringe brushes his eyes, waves rippling in his amber eyes under the light.

His fingers are reminiscent of thin cocoons, gently brushing across my wrist, bringing with it a certain warmth.

Looking at such a Gavin, I think of a day from a very long time ago, when he had once meticulously helped me put on a ginkgo bracelet.

After going around in a circle, we have returned to our original places. 

Gavin: All right, don’t take it off again next time. 

MC: Aren’t I undergoing an interrogation? They prohibited me from bringing along any equipment or jewellery.

Gavin: There’s no need to remove it next time. Just say that I was the one who put it on for you.

He says this unexpectedly, leaving me seated in a daze, not returning to my senses even after a long time.

Gavin: How many more times do you want to be interrogated?

MC: No more, no more. 

I hurriedly get to my feet and run after Gavin, noticing his slightly tender smile. 

He coughs lightly. Before he opens the door, he turns to look at me. 

The music is gentle and everything is beautiful

He tells her that STF will investigate the drugs incident, and will clear the name of MC’s company. Which is why she no longer has to get involved in this matter. 

MC refuses

aND THEN THE MUSIC GETS TENSE AGAIN

Hearing me say this, the warm atmosphere disintegrates in an instant. Gavin’s eyebrows are tightly knit, and he looks slightly irritated. 

Gavin: You no longer want your life because of your work with Black Swan? Miss Nox?!

He shouts the name solemnly, leaning his hand against the wall next to me. His voice brings with it conflict and vexation.

[Note] I've included the audio clip here for your listening pleasure

His sudden and evident anger gives me a fright.

MC: ...that’s not it.

I lower my head. When I see that the tips of our feet are about to touch, a sourness surfaces in my heart. 

If this drug can really heighten Evol, and can cause Evol to awaken in normal people, it definitely has an inescapable link to Black Swan Core. 

I’ve been thinking back to the reasons why I started all over again, but the speed at which things are developing in this world have not given me much opportunity to do so.

Black Swan Core is this world’s biggest hint to me. 

And this drug could be a certain key closest to it. 

In order to return to how things were before. In order for all of us to see a simple and insignificant tomorrow.

I need the answer this drug can bring.

I lift my head slowly, looking at Gavin who is standing before me.

MC: This has nothing to do with BS. Everything I’ve done is for myself. In order to complete what I want to do, I’m not afraid of anything. 

Gavin: Is this goal the same reason why you joined Black Swan?

His face is illuminated by the chilly lights. In his cold eyes, I see a complete me. 

MC: Yes. 

-

They leave the interrogation room

Tang Chao stands outside and has a report - the drugs in MC’s company were actual “Small Syringes”. Someone had swapped them

Before MC even starts panicking, it turns out Gavin has everything under control. The doors to STF have been sealed shut, and they can now catch the person who has been causing the internal trouble

Gavin: MC, don’t go off on your own. Wait for my arrangements. Tang Chao, take care of her. 

Tang Chao takes her to a special room in STF which has around a hundred images of what’s happening in STF

Lu Yi is also around (the guy whose Evol allows him to control the flow of information i.e. he can send footage over to Gavin when needed

Tang Chao comments that his Evol is being able to tell if someone is lying

He gives her a earpiece which allows her to hear all of Gavin’s sexy commands. Tang Chao explains that Gavin wanted her to have the earpiece for ease of communication

I touch this tiny earpiece gently. Hearing Gavin’s familiar voice causes one to feel at ease.

Tang Chao points at a tiny button on the earpiece, signalling that she can talk if she presses it. But she just can’t feel for it, so he reaches out...

Tang Chao: The button is...

Gavin: Tang Chao, put your hands away. 

Tang Chao: Commander Gavin, I haven't even touched her!

Gavin: If you do, your punishment of running will be doubled. 

In the middle of the screens, Gavin’s arms are across his chest. While he waits for information on the next suspect, he looks into the camera coldly.

Gavin shouldn’t be able to see what’s happening, but Tang Chao is still trembling at the side. 

Gavin: You should know that I wasn’t lying about what I said. 

Tang Chao: Ah Sir, that’s not how my Evol works. I’ve been industriously listening in on whether these fellows have been telling lies. 

Gavin: Then listen properly. MC, stay further away from him.

I laugh softly, taking a step away from Tang Chao in a joking manner. 

With a bitter expression on his face, Tang Chao runs to a corner, while Lu Yi nods at me in resignation. 

Tang Chao: Captain Gavin, I’m someone who knows your little secret. Could you lessen my punishment by two rounds?

Gavin: You can try.

In her mind, MC notes that despite how tense the situation is, everyone is pretty calm

Whether it’s Tang Chao or Lu Yi, they are simply one part of this group of talented individuals.

And Gavin is the captain of this special operations team.

Actually, I’m confused as to why Tang Chao would tell me all these things so directly. 

In a corner, Tang Chao seems to sense my confusion. He points at Gavin on the screen. 

Tang Chao: It was all Captain Gavin’s idea. 

AND THEN GAVIN LOOKS INTO THE CAMERA AND MC NOTES THAT THEIR EYES ‘MEET’ LOL

I suddenly recollect the time I re-lived my 16 year old self. 

Watermelons, bubbling soda, electronic fans and the incessant cries of cicadas, the rustling of pens and the voice of teachers have formed the musical notes of summer.

The youth who ran over from the window wearing a loose shirt - this time, I can finally see his eyes clearly. 

They contain the same light as the him on screen - direct and candid.

-

Part Two: here

[angelaiswriting]

The Contest (6 of 7) | some R6S guys x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Jäger x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: Dominic Brunsmeier can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut when it comes to eating pussy, and that’s how Y/N finds herself being drafted to be the judge of this pussy-eating contest. (Straight out of a dream @kind-wolf​ had)

✏️ A/N: I’m not entirely satisfied with this part, it was somehow the hardest to write so far, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it! 💛 I also kind of hurt my hand yesterday and it has slowed me down a bit, and since I haven’t started working on the very last part of this fic yet, I’m not sure there’ll be an update on Sunday. Fingers crossed that I’ll manage to write, but just in case, you've been warned 😅

✏️ Warnings: 18+ only (oral f/r, fingering)

✏️ Word-count: 2,897

✏️ The links to the other parts are in the masterlist linked in my bio.

<< part five: dominic <<  |  PART SIX: MARIUS  |  >> part seven: the winner >>

Marius had managed to come back three days after Dominic’s turn and while he would have preferred to remain on-site with the other operators on the team, Six had called him back to report. After that, Dominic had marched him down to the dorm sector of the Base and had dropped him into Y/N’s hands.

Be quick. The guys and I are tired of waiting, he had half-joked before jogging back down the corridor and out of sight.

“I’m sorry,” Marius said, looking away from her half-dressed form. “He was waiting for me outside Harry’s office and he brought me straight here.”

When her brain started working again after the surprise she had just been presented with, she gasped out glad a cuss word at Dominic. “Oh fuck, you’re still in your uniform! Did he drag you here right after you came back from your mission?”

He shrugged, a hand coming up to give the back of his neck a brief massage before he rolled his shoulders back. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Were the others in on this?”

He looked away for a moment and she knew, then and there, that despite the fact that he was most likely tired out of his mind, he was still down to lie for his friends. But eventually, when he answered with a vague and unfinished Yeah, no, they…, she scoffed.

“I should kick them out of this stupid contest,” she groaned. She let the t-shirt she had had in her hands when Dominic had swung the door of her dorm open drop on the bed and she walked up to the man in her room. “You’ve just come back,” she repeated. “Have you showered yet?”

When he shook his head no in response, she took his hand in hers and led him into the bathroom.

“You don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to,” she told him, “but maybe a shower will do you good anyway.”

There was no need to ask him if he was tired: she just knew he was. She had been on missions as well and she knew how tough it could get when the adrenaline left your system. The tiredness and the soreness caught up — and sometimes even your mind would start wandering.

He turned her around when she turned on the water so that it could warm up for him and when they were facing each other, he pulled her into an unexpected hug.

Marius was a respectful man, he had always been. While Elias had always glanced at her quite a few times, he always respected Dominic — and while she wasn’t Dominic’s, or not exactly at least, he had never done anything that could have been even remotely misinterpreted. And although they had been brought closer by that silly game they were playing, he had never so much as hugged her before.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He inhaled deeply, his face buried into the crook of her neck, and when one of her hands came up to cradle the back of his head, she felt him shiver. “Thank you,” he muttered eventually. He was smiling a tired smile when he pulled back, a playful I’m starting to see why he’s so into you leaving his lips. “However, if you’re okay with proceeding, I won’t say no. The quicker we get this over with, the quicker those motherfuckers will stop pestering me.”

Her chuckle made his smile broaden that tad bit more that his teeth were visible for a moment. But then her smirk turned mischievous and her hands moved up his chest. “We’ll make him pay for playing this card on you.”

She pushed his jacket down his shoulders and as she bent down to pick it up and bring it back into her room to hang it on the back of a chair, he got out of his shoes.

“I can shower you if you want,” she proposed when she reached him again. He was halfway into taking off his shirt and she noticed the purple bruise peeking from underneath the cotton.

“But you said…”

“To hell with what I said.” She knew the rules didn’t allow for them to be naked, but she wasn’t going to ask him to kneel down between her legs, not when he had just come back from a mission. “Yes or no?”

It took him a few moments to say yes, and she knew it was out of respect for his friend. But when he caved in and let his shirt drop to the floor, she walked away from the door frame she had been leaning against and moved to stand in front of him. Her eyes met his when her hands moved over the button of his pants and he gave her a curt nod of his head before she finally proceeded.

“What happened to your back?” she asked, this time not looking at him as she kneeled before him to drag his pants down his legs.

She had seen the nasty blue-ish bruise on his left pectoral, but didn’t bring it up. Bruises were part of the package with their job, but they still had a weird effect on her when they were on someone she cared about.

“Fell down a story,” he answered vaguely as he held onto her shoulders to step out of his clothes. “Nothing to worry about too much.”

“Did you get yourself checked in the med bay?” She had taken his socks off and had stood up again. And as her fingers hooked underneath the waistband of his boxers and she stared into his eyes, she saw that spark of almost guilt flash across his face. “Dom will have an earful in the morning,” she groaned to herself as she pushed his underwear to the floor. “Now get in,” was the order she gave as her hands came up to unclasp her bra. “I’ll be there in a second.”

The shower felt asphyxiatingly confining when she stepped in behind Marius. Private bathrooms on the Base tended to be smaller than the rest when you didn’t share a room with someone else, and never before that night had she consciously understood what that meant.

“At least neither of us is going to slip and fall,” Marius chuckled, turning to face the sidewall of the cubicle so that they could have a little more space.

She let out a chuckle of her own as her hands slid up his bruised back, careful not to press too hard into his tense muscles. “How did the mission go?” she asked eventually when she started soaping him up.

“The usual,” he shrugged. Before he could continue, her thumbs dug into the flash of his shoulders and he hissed. “The guys needed last-minute help securing the objective.” He groaned again when she started massaging his shoulders and the back of his neck and before long, he was leaning his forehead against the tiled wall.

“They called you back quickly, though,” she pointed out. She was doing her best to work some of the knots in his muscles, but it proved to be a hard feat in the confined space of the shower. “That’s good?” It left her lips more like a question and although a last-minute call to leave on a mission was always a pain in the ass, she couldn’t help but wonder how things had gone.

“Yeah, no, everybody’s fine.” She didn’t miss his relieved exhale when her hands pressed down along his spine, where bruises didn’t mark his skin. “The mission has been completed, they just had a few things to do before coming back.”

It turned quiet after that and although he muttered a sorry at his half-erection when he turned around, the atmosphere in the bathroom was peaceful and relaxed. She finished soaping him up, humming quietly under her breath, and after she was done washing him, he surprised her by making her turn around to face the wall she had been with her back towards.

His hands were soft on her skin and much like she had done just minutes ago, he worked on her tense shoulders as they made small talk. She told him about the endless days at the base, and he told her some details about his mission, funny stuff the operators he had been working with had said. By the time his thumbs started their descent down her spine, her mind seemed to be peacefully swimming as her eyes closed in relaxation.

“You’re better at this than I am,” she joked when her brain managed to make her tongue work again. Her head tilted back against him of its own accord and although she did feel him painfully hard against her back for a moment, he was quick to move back.

She gave him his time when she stepped out of the shower a minute or two later. She quickly slipped into her toweling robe, left a towel on the sink for him, and slipped out of the bathroom in silence as she closed the door behind his back.

She had tried not to look — she really had, out of respect for the contest’s rules, the other guys and most of all, her quickly dying resolve not to cheat. But she had had a glimpse of his cock — long and slightly arched — and she had felt it brush against her butt when he had abruptly turned around. So, when she eventually laid down on her bed, she couldn’t help her hand from traveling down her body and stopping between her legs as she listened in on Marius’ soft grunts coming from the bathroom.

She was wet, and it had very little to do with her skin still being slightly damp from the shower she had just walked out of. Her middle finger slid between her folds, the fingertip teasing her entrance, and a light moan left her lips. For a moment, she realized that this was how Dominic might feel — wanting her without being able to have her just yet — but she didn’t have long to ponder that thought and play with herself, because the door of the bathroom opened and Marius stopped in his tracks at the sight of her, her legs spread open, a hand between them, and the bathrobe barely concealing her upper body.

“Look at you.” The smirk that stretched on his lips made the skin of her face burn and although her hands itched to come up and cover her face, she kept them where they were — one on her abdomen and the other with a finger half-way inside her pussy. “What do you think you’re doing?”

It made a shiver run down her spine — how rough his voice sounded, the way he was staring at her, right between her legs.

He stalked towards the bed and when he stopped at the foot of it, he leaned forward to take her hand from between her thighs. The fingers of his right hand brushed against her pussy and his left brought her hand to his lips before he sucked her middle finger clean. She almost gasped at the soft grunt he let out and although she could feel her face on fire, she couldn’t take her eyes off of his.

“I almost kneeled in that shower,” he confessed when he let her hand go. He pulled her closer to the edge of the bed by her ankles and his hands slid up her bare legs before he pulled the string of her robe open. “Did the others take you there?”

She shook her head and although she had been on the verge of squeezing her thighs together under the intensity of his gaze, she found herself simply smirking when he started kissing his way up her legs.

“I should’ve aimed for those extra points then.”

A chuckle was all she managed to consciously let out before he licked a stripe between her folds and groaned at the taste of her before he kissed up her lower belly and abdomen.

The stubble he hadn’t had the time to shave grazed her skin, forcing goosebumps in its wake. It still felt nice — she was used to a whole different level of beard burn anyway — and all she could do was relax against the mattress as his lips made their way to her nipples. He licked and suckled, and although he was pouring his all into it, she felt how tired he was in the way his body was pressing down against hers.

“Marius,” she called, fingernails gently scratching his scalp before she tugged on his hair to prompt him up. “Lie down, I’ll sit on your face.”

He smiled at her — and there was a faint spark of mischief in his eyes when he looked at her right before he let himself plop down on the bed next to hers. He seemed to pour his thank you in the way he caressed the side of her face when she turned her head to look at him, and a little even in the way he moved strands of hair behind her ear. “If I weren’t this tired, I’d surely win,” he smirked, pulling a chuckle out of her. “But I can still give you a good time anyway.” He shrugged his shoulders and fully turned to lie down on his back and as he did so, she couldn’t help but notice the flaps of his towel opening a little, almost as though to tempt her and remind her how much into a dick-fucking mood she was.

When she straddled his face and glanced down at him, her hands firmly holding onto the metal headboard of her bed, she found him grinning up at her like a child on Christmas day. His hands slid up her thighs and his fingertips pressed into her flesh, and when she hesitated for a moment, he pressed his face into her inner thigh and groaned deep in his chest.

“C’mon, let me eat this pussy.” And for good measure, he gave her ass a playful slap that made her jolt.

She chuckled at that, and deciding on having some mercy on him and his post-mission state, she hastily took off her robe, threw it to the side, and allowed him to lower her down onto his face.

He inhaled deeply before diving in, and his tongue on her drew a gasp from her lips. He licked at her, used both his thumbs to spread her labia for better access.

“I tried not to think of you in the shower,” he confessed just as her left hand moved over her left boob and teased the nipple. “But you have a great ass and I…” His hand left another swat on her right butt cheek and her body leaned forward, a moan leaving her lips when his wrapped around her clit.

So you like ass, was what she managed to chuckle before his tongue dove into her and ate her out.

He was noisy — moaning and grunting, and overall most likely enjoying it just as much as she was — and his breath against her made her shiver. Her eyes were fixed on his hair and the hand that had just been holding onto her breast moved down, her fingers tangling in his wet hair. Her hips were rocking gently back and forth, and she could feel that unmistakable feeling starting to build up inside her.

It started off slowly, with his tongue dipping into her before licking forward, teasing her clit, and then it built up much more quickly when he slowly pushed two fingers inside her. Their pads massaged over that sensitive spot inside her and her breath grew heavier, and then quicker. And before long, her eyes were dropping closed and her lips parting as the last coherent thoughts left her mind and moans and whimpers slipped through her lips.

God, he’s good, was the last thought she had before her grip on his hair tightened.

He gave her clit a harsh suckle and she was gone, her head thrown back as she gasped for air, no energy left in her to voice her orgasm. She wasn’t even aware of how tightly she was holding onto the headboard, just of his mouth and tongue on her — and of those two thick fingers still inside her.

“You good up there?” he asked eventually, turning his head to the side to leave a kiss on her shivering inner thigh.

She was staring at the ceiling, still panting lightly, the fingers of her left hand absentmindedly massaging his scalp. Her hips had stopped moving, but she was still out of breath and with the shocks of her orgasm still coursing through her. It felt amazing, though: her head felt completely empty and her whole body at peace.

“Yeah,” she exhaled eventually and when she managed to swallow, she tilted her head down and looked at him. “Yeah, I’m all good.”

“Need help letting go of the headboard?” His hands trailed up the back of her thighs and then her spine, before sliding back down and settling on the curve of her ass.

“I need help with a lot of things,” she chuckled, amused, “but this headboard is the last of my thoughts.”

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[princessofguineapigs]

Home Is Where the Heart Is | Tom Holland Chapter 3

“Sam is coming. To help protect you. I want to make sure you’re untouchable to any thugs who might wish you harm.” Tom was explaining his plan to keep you safe despite the threats against you. “I can put him up in a hotel, if you like. I know you never invited my brother to stay with us,” he continued. It had been one day since the attack and Tom had passed the time thinking of ways to keep you safer, then arranging them.

“No, it’s alright. Sam can stay here. I’ll feel safer with an extra man in the house.”

Tom picked you up by the waist and you squealed. “Plus, we won’t have to worry about complicated dinner recipes,” he said.

* 

So, Sam arrived, another long-term house guest. You weren’t sure how long he would stay, but you knew it had to be until the danger was passed. He took up residence in the guest room (Tom offered the bed up since he spends his nights in yours anyway). 

Sam’s first request was to use the kitchen and “make a proper meal.” You easily agreed. “Is there anything Tom and I can do to help?” “You can let me work in peace.” Sam winked.

Tom walked in an joined you leaning against the counter. “How are things at home? Are mum and dad okay with you leaving?”

Sam laughed. “I’d say mum and dad are more than okay with me leaving. They’re down to two boys in the house from four. But things are good otherwise. Mum decided to take on the project of cleaning all the windows -- from the outside. She’s got ladders and everything. Dad isn’t a fan, but she won’t let him help because of his back.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Oh, Paddy is convinced Harry is seeing someone again, but Harry won’t let on about it if he is.”

“We’ll have to interrogate him later,” you said.

“What’s Paddy’s proof?” Tom asked.

“He claims Harry says this girl’s name in his sleep. I say dreaming about someone doesn’t mean they’re together.”

Sam ducked down to pull a pan out of the cabinet. The thunder of pots clattered as he jockeyed them around, searching for what he wanted. If Sam was still speaking, you couldn’t hear him over the noise. He stood and looked at you as if waiting for you to say something.

“If you asked me a question, I couldn’t hear you over the din you were making,” you said.

“Right. I asked what you thought of Paddy’s theory, Y/N.”

You drummed your fingers on the counter. “I think we should invite Harry for dinner and press him for information.”

“Excellent idea,” Tom said.

“I’ll give him a call,” you said. You went to your bedroom to grab your phone. As you listened to the phone ring, you sat on the edge of the bed and picked at your blue jeans.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up? I hear my twin is staying with you now.”

“He is,” you confirmed. “Until Tom thinks I’m safe again.”

“What exactly happened?” Harry questioned.

You got a lump in your throat unexpectedly. You shook off the dark thoughts. “Come over for dinner and I’ll tell you about it.”

“Sweet, a free meal. Wait. Who’s cookin?”

You laughed. “Sam, of course.”

“Phew, now I know it’ll be good. No offense, Y/N, but I like Sam’s cooking better and right now I’m as hungry as a lion.”

You giggled again. “See you soon, Harry.” You hung up.

You went back downstairs and found Tom lounging in the living room adjoining the kitchen. You snuggled up on the couch with him. Tom shifted his position so he could give you kisses. You heard Sam groan. “Oi! Love birds, set the table! There’ll be plenty of time for that,” he gestured to your compromising position on the couch, “later.” You and Tom grabbed cups and silverware while Sam started to plate the food. 

The doorbell rang and Tom ran to answer it. His curly-hair brother was standing on the other side. You sat down with Tom and his brothers to eat and the meal began, as well as the relationship interrogation.

“Are you seeing anyone, Harry?” you asked, unusually candid.

Harry nearly spit out his drink.

“Why would you ask that?”

“It’s just a question.”

Sam set down his fork. “Stop avoiding it. It’s a yes or no answer.”

“I--” Harry’s ears grew pink. “I may have someone I’m interested in, but we aren’t seeing each other.”

“Who is she?” you pressed.

Tom leaned forward, eager to hear the answer. You were reminded of a dog waiting for a treat in it’s owner’s hand. Golden retriever indeed.

“If it works out, I’ll tell you,” Harry answered. He shoveled another bite of food into his mouth and that was that.

*

The four of you sat around the table, sated by the delicious food Sam had made.

“So this creep actually pulled a gun on you?” Harry reiterated.

“Yeah. Fuckin prick forced her to her knees,” Tom sneered.

You stood up from the table. “Um, I’m going to clean up,” you said. You cleared the plates, eager to get away from the conversation. The boys continued to discuss the attack in hushed tones. They might as well have been shouting from the way their whispers carried. It was sweet that they didn’t want to upset you, having picked up on the reason you left the table, but it wasn’t working.

Tom got up to carry the rest of the glasses and cutlery to the sink. “Can we watch a movie tonight?” Sam requested. “Sure. Harry, will you be staying the night?” you asked. “If that’s alright with you, yeah. I’ve got a sleeping bag in the car. I’ll go get it.”

“What do you want to watch?” you asked.

“How about The Golden Compass?” Sam suggested.

“I’ll put it on,” Tom said.

Soon, the four of you were huddled under your respective blankets enjoying the film under the dim lights. Except you and Tom who were of course sharing a blanket on your own island of cuddles. Eyes fixed on the screen, you laid your head against Tom. As the credits rolled, sleep overtook you like a riptide, unexpected and strong.

You were vaguely aware of Tom carrying you to bed. Waves of unconsciousness washed over you and you were out cold.

Tom smiled to himself as you muttered in your sleep. “Please don’t go...”

“Never, darling. I promise.” He was content watching you doze in his arms until he reached sleep himself.

*

“Morning, lover,” you said through a yawn. In the new day’s first light Tom looked like a golden god. “Is there any better way to wake up? I can’t imagine one,” Tom said. “How are you so quick with a flirt this early in the morning?” you asked. “Someone as beautiful as you, practically made of stardust makes it easy to flirt.” Tom kissed you. “To praise you.” Another kiss. “Pay homage to your beauty.” Tom moved to position himself overtop of you, flinging the blankets away. “Feel like making love to you,” he whispered. “Then do it,” you said.

Tom littered your body with kisses, leaving no marks, lest he mare the skin of such a perfect creature. No matter how many times you made love, he couldn’t believe he was seeing you naked, exposed like this. You were willing, too. Willing for him to use you. No, not use. Using something meant disposing of it when you were through. He would cherish these moments, not dispose of them. You were his angel open for him to worship.

His lips dusted your thighs with kisses on his way to your center. His hands traveled over the mountains of your chest. You fell apart easily under Tom’s touch.

“Hey, Tom, we’re --”

You screamed at the intrusion. Tom snatched the blanket off the floor and covered you with it, leaving himself bare, but at least they wouldn’t see his angel’s perfect body. You were only for his eyes and he wanted to prevent your shame.

Sam and Harry were in the doorway and you realized it must have not been locked.

“What the fuck? Get out!” Tom yelled.

The twins blushed. “Sorry, sorry,” Harry said, backing out. “Can’t control yourselves for one day,” Sam snickered, leaving too.

“It’s our room!” Tom called after them, peeved. He settled back on top of you, attacking with fresh kisses. You giggled, but pushed him off. “We should get ready for the day.” 

Tom groaned. “Why are you always right?”

*

Harry departed for a photoshoot and you decided you didn’t want to be cooped up in the house, hiding like a scared groundhog. “Let’s walk in to town for the day,” you suggested to the boys.

“Into the wild, I like it,” Sam said.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just the town, Sam. Nothing dangerous.”

“Could be dangerous. It was a few ni--” Tom cut Sam off. “It’s the middle of the day. No harm will come to Y/N in broad daylight. Especially not with us accompanying her.”

“I dunno...” Tom was still hesitant.

“We can’t stay in the house forever,” you tried to reason.

“Tom, I personally guarantee her safety,” Sam said.

And so the three of you made the trip into town, in a car this time. You whiled away the morning meandering through bookshops and boutiques. Tom even helped out pick out some items to try on.

Your trio was just trying to decide on what to have for lunch when you saw him. Sam and Tom had their back to him, poring over a menu outside a bistro. The man who had attacked you the other night. The man you’d been tryin to forget ever since he threatened to find you again. 

He approached you at full speed, arms outstretched. “I’ve got you this time, Giselle!” he roared. “You can’t run away from me!”

Tom and Sam turned around at his shouts and horror overtook both their faces as the man lunged at you. As he pounced, you screamed and threw up your arms. The boys sprang into action. Tom jumped in front of you as a shield and Sam ran at your assailant from the side, tackling him to the ground. The man was still screeching. “Where you go, I’ll follow! You can’t run from me, Giselle. I will finish the job I was sent to do!” Tom was holding you with his hand reached behind him, still shielding you while Sam wrestled with the man on the ground.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” you screamed.

“And who sent you?” Tom yelled.

The man threw a punch at Sam’s throat. The attack was enough to cause Sam to cry out in pain and loosen his grip. The man got to his feet and started to run. Tom ran after him while you went to Sam’s side. Sam was on the ground, coughing and sporting a bruised cheek. He tried to control his breathing and you helped him to sit up.

“Sorry he got away from me, Y/N.”

“Hey, tackling that man was no small thing,” you reassured. “You did your best. And look, I’m fine.”

Your mind still wondered why he had called you that name. Giselle. Maybe this whole thing was a case of mistaken identity. That still didn’t make it better. This man was intent on hurting someone. The question was, why did he want to hurt this Giselle girl?

Tom came back, huffing and puffing. It was clear his attempt to chase down the culprit had but in vain. “That man is bad news,” Tom said. He gulped in air between words. “He got into a car that was waiting for him with some dangerous looking men. They drove off.”

“Let’s get you home,” Sam said. “We can worry about who that man is later.”

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[mattzerella-sticks]

Come Home (ao3)

Jason Todd gets a message from Bruce. He's surprised to see it. Then, he's surprised by the message itself. Hearing Bruce's final message stirs something inside of him, urging him towards a place he's avoided ever since his and Bruce's falling out. So he gathers his things, and then... waits.

He can't leave yet. Jason doesn't know why. Bruce gave him a mission, just like old times. Except it's not, because he... Jason can't move. Can't even stand.

That's how Kyle finds him.

New York City, NY - 3:42 a.m.

           Jason heard the flick of a switch before he saw Kyle’s shadow in the doorway. He tensed in his seat but made no move of leaving. Not an inch since he finished packing, duffel lying at his feet. Waiting for Jason to drag it out the window he came through.

           It’ll wait a bit longer.

           “Jason,” Kyle asked, shuffling closer. He turns the light on in this room now, shadows retreating. Like a warm blanket being pulled away, leaving him defenseless. “Jason,” he repeats, peering down at him. Hair ruffled from sleep, wiping at drool with his wrist. “You finished with patrol?”

           He answers with a small hum, knuckles shifting against his lips.

           “Rough night?” Kyle yawns. “Why’re you still out here?”

           The words catch in his throat, scraping it hard enough he bleeds. Though the copper taste might be from how he bites his tongue. Afraid that if he eased his grip, it all might spout forth like a broken pipe, leaving a horrible stain. Once those thoughts are given form, there won’t be any avoiding them.

           Kyle crouched down when he wasn’t looking, dragging his thumb across Jason’s cheek scar. “Jay,” he whispers, “what is it? Why do you have your bag out?” Blinking, Jason notices his lover is more alert now. Staring at him with unnaturally green eyes, piercing like they were constructs from his ring.

           The usual finger is naked. Ring absent, as it should be. There’s no need for rings or guns, masks or helmets, here in their apartment. Together, they can exist as themselves. In this small, shared space, they are Kyle Rayner and Jason Todd. Green Lantern and Red Hood can have every inch of the world – the whole universe, even – save the apartment they call home.

           But the helmet still rests on his lap. Reflects the light from the overhead lamp, milky lenses staring up at him.

           “Kyle,” he chokes on the other man’s name. Then, nothing. His shoulders shudder, vision grows hazy. His lover’s face blurs, but it’s the only thing he can focus on. Closer, rapidly, until the darkness returns. He nuzzles at Kyle’s neck, arms slipped over his shoulders. Warmth treads the surface of his skin but cannot dive deeper. Iced out by the pervasive chill that spread since he answered his phone.

           “Jason,” Kyle says, “hey… I’m here… let it out, Jay…”

           The muttered encouragement breaks what little remained of his defenses. His tears flow free, unburdened, transporting him years into the past. As a kid, his sadness went unnoticed. Swallowed up by the hustle and bustle of Gotham, too busy for another misty-eyed, dirty kid on the street. Over time he learned how to hide that part of him, wound scabbed so heavily he might never cry again. But then someone saw him. Offered his shoulder like Kyle does now, soaking up Jason’s tears. Riding the wave alongside him.

           How Jason wishes he were that young again. When it was simple. Where all that happened between them was a far, twinkling dot in the sky named ‘yet to be’. So he can cry with him one last time.

           Kyle, for once, isn’t enough.

           “Hey,” he starts, as Jason’s sobs lessen, “d’you want to talk about it now?”

           He doesn’t. Might never be able to. And if Jason told him that, Kyle would understand. Kiss along his scar; suggest a nightcap even though he knows Jason will shoot the idea down. Only offering it as a poor attempt at changing the conversation.

           That’s why he loves him. That’s why Kyle deserves to know.

           Talking is hard. Luckily, someone can speak on his behalf. Jason pulls his phone out, blindly punching in the passcode. Then he hands it over, video already playing.

           Kyle watches Bruce. Jason watches Kyle.

           The video is white noise at this point, Jason having lost count of how much he hit the rewind button. Listening to Bruce’s voice like sitting on the other side of a window while a severe thunderstorm rages; safe from the pounding rain and deadly lightning. As it plays, and Kyle’s expressions mirror the same marks Jason believes he hit during his first few views, some of the rain slips through an open crack. A shiver races down his spine.

           Bruce stops talking. Kyle drops Jason’s phone, collapsing onto his knees, crushing Jason’s duffel. Face blank while he processes what Jason can’t quite wrap his head around yet. “Batman… Bruce Wayne is dead?”

           “Yeah…” Having someone else admit it made it easier. It breezes past his lips, “Bruce is dead.” A beat passes, Jason lifts his helmet. “Gotham’s gonna be hell, with Batman gone… defenseless.”

           Kyle’s hand hovers over his knee for a second, and then lands. Squeezes it until Jason breaks from the contest with the empty gaze of his helmet so he can look at a warmer, more loving one. “You’re going back then. To Gotham.”

           “You heard the video,” Jason shrugs, “Kinda have to.”

           “Jay…” Kyle huffs, rubbing tiny circles into Jason’s knee. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

           “I know.”

           “And yet you’re still going.” There’s no judgement weighing down Kyle’s statement, only concern. It’s a luxury that Jason revels in. “Do you want to go? Go back… there?”

           Oddly enough, Jason does. “He sent me a video,” he starts, shifting. Holds his helmet with one hand while the other crawls over Kyle’s. “After everything that went down, he… he sent me a video. I can’t begin to explain why …” Kyle flips his hand, fingers curling around Jason’s wrist. “But he did. Sometimes, in those really bad moments… I figured he wrote me off completely. Kicked out of the nest for… well, y’know. But this I… I can’t help feeling, by sending this, he was saying sorry. For it getting this bad. For not being there when I needed him. Not being around anymore to make it better. If I didn’t go back… let’s just say I’d regret it.” He sniffs, chuckling, “Besides, I’d be a hypocrite if I let the old man die and not leave at least fifty slugs in their corpse after harping on and on about Bruce letting the Joker live.”

           “Jay,” Kyle warns, fighting a smile. Losing with every twitch of his lips. “Fifty is a bit much, isn’t it?”

           “Forty-nine, then?”

           “You’re not funny.”

           “Yes, I am,” Jason says, scraping at Kyle’s wrist with blunt nails, “you love my jokes.”

           Kyle rolls his eyes. “I love you. Your sense of humor is one of the many crosses I bear for doing so.”

           “Yeah, well…” The levity flees as the weight of the situation reasserts itself, both their mouths thinning into serious lines. Jason tugs himself free of Kyle’s hold, clutching at his helmet with both hands again. “I have to go.”

           “For how long?” he asks.

           Jason frowns, “I… I’m not sure.”

           Nodding, Kyle stands. Towers over Jason, bangs hanging over his face. He pushes them out of the way, brushing them behind his ear. “You don’t have to leave right away, do you?”

           He thinks about it. Not for long. “I… guess I can wait until morning.”

           “…Thank you.”

           Jason follows Kyle, dropping Red Hood’s helmet on the duffel. Sheds his layers in a trail towards their room, falling into bed beside his lover. Kyle wraps his arms around him, kissing him. Maps out well-worn paths on more scars scattered over his body. He accepts the laved attention, soaking it up. Memorizes each caress for the lonely nights to come.

           There’s a whispered prayer mixed in with Kyle’s reverence. “Please Jay,” he says, “Come home to me.”

           Jason could say it a million times in a million different ways, none of which would make a believable promise. Instead he kisses Kyle. Kisses him until exhaustion overpowers them both, Jason falling asleep in Kyle’s arms.

           When Kyle awakes next, however, there’ll be no one there. No Jason, no bag on the living room floor, and no blood red helmet. By then, he’ll be on his way to Gotham and away from home.

           Coming back only when he’s ready to.

[mirrorhunt]

Sticks and stones may break my bones

taunting | insults | Who did this to you

Raffi watches Seven, Elnor and Cris training. Until something goes wrong.

Raffi is quietly drinking her coffee and watching Rios, Seven and Elnor while they are training. Rios and Seven against Elnor with telescopic stuffs – more playful than serious with plenty of jokes and laughs.

“How long are they at this?” Soji comes closer, having a bowl of berries in her hand.

“Hm, around two hours I’ll say,” she watches Seven swing her stuff and how muscles of her arm and visible upper back contract and relax under a work-out. She can watch it all day. These strong arms, deftly fingers, that can be so gentle yet so dangerous. She swallows and turns to Soji, helping herself with some berries. “Cranberries?” she winces.

“And blackberries. I like sour,” Soji shrugs.

“You like punishing yourself looks more like it,” Raffi leaves the bowl and turns to watch, trying to avoid looking at Seven. Cris has had long ago shed his shirt, and good thing Agnes is with Picard, or there’ll be two salivating idiots watching their sweating and growling partners.

“Why aren’t you joining?” asks Raffi as a distraction.

“I think Captain Rios has enough of them, no need to add a synth to the mix,” Soji points with her chin to Cris, laying on the floor and grunting in pain while holding onto his ribs. “Why aren’t you?”

“Oh, I don’t think it’ll be a good idea,” she follows Seven when she moves to give a hand to Rios. One powerful pull – and Cris is on his feet again. “Besides, we already had our warm-up.”

“Ew,” the look on Soji’s face is of an absolute disgust. Raffi opens her mouth to explain it’s not what she thinks, but remembers how their warm-up ended. She closes her mouth and turns away from Soji.

They look silently, Soji’s chewing her berries, Raffi’s hiding her heated face in already cold cup of coffee. At one point Elnor loses his robe too, and suddenly Cris and Seven stop, their stuffs falling on the floor. Raffi straightens up looking for danger, but not hearing or seeing it. Soji chocks to the right of her.

And then she sees it. Elnor’s back. It covered in old, nasty scars that are clearly poorly healed. Raffi feels something cold and wet at her feet, looks down to see a broken cup with spilled coffee, but she doesn’t care. The hot, white rage simmers inside. Someone had hurt the kid. Very badly. The scars like that didn’t come from a wild childhood. She saw enough of them to recognize them.

“Who did this to you?” with cold rage asks Seven.

“Oh, the scars? It does not matter,” Elnor picks up his stuff and goes in posision only to have Cris’ hand lower his arm.

“No kid, it does,” Cris says in pain and sorrow, and Raffi looks at him, remembering what he had told her long-long ago, while he still wore Starfleet mark proudly.

“It happened a long time ago. Why should it matter?” confused, asks Elnor. Raffi’s heart breaks even more at the careless sound of his young voice.

“Because it’s bad. It should never happen to anyone,” with a hard tone says Soji, marching to him and taking his hand in hers, throwing the stuff to the floor.

“Zani said that too,” Elnor chews on his lips. They wait for him to continue. “The people on Vashti. They were not happy with me being with Qowat Milat. They said things when I was around. I didn’t understand them fully then. I do now. It was better when old man was around. When they were still hoping the Federation will help them. But then he was gone. And Federation’s aid never came. So people got angry. On Federation for abandoning them, on Qowat Milat for not fighting for them. They attacked us one night. Killed two and took me. Told me I had no place with them. That I will never be a part of Qowat Milat. I shouldn’t dirty them with my existence. And one of them took the whip. I don’t remember much after that. Just Zani’s hands and cold and a lot of green around me and on me. It was first time they did that.”

“First?” hisses Seven, and Raffi takes her hand.

“Every time I was out. They tried to provoke me, threw stones at me. That’s where this scar came from,” Elnor points at his chin. “Zani told me not to respond. But after I came bleeding again, she came with me and asked to point on who did this. She killed them. And told everyone to leave me alone or the same will happen to them. It was one of the most treasured moments in my life.”

“Kid, I’m so sorry,” Cris says, holding Elnor’s robe for him.

“Why? You didn’t do this. I know you would never do this. None of you,” Elnor says firmly with so much faith in them that Raffi has to put her hand to her mouth to hold in the sob. Seven squeezes her hand.

“We’re sorry this happened to you. That you lived through this. You shouldn’t have. It was very wrong of them,” sighs Soji, never letting go of Elnor’s hand. He gives her a weak smile.

“A lot of things should never happen. Picard and Seven of Nine becoming Borgs, Raffi losing her job, you being hunted, Hugh being killed. But that’s the way of life.”

“You haven’t been reading Cris’ books, have you? If so, Picard has more fun novels than that depressing shit,” says Raffi, trying to will the tears away. This poor kids. Why they had to suffer? They didn’t to anything than exist. Why the galaxy hates them so much?

“Hey!” offended, Cris slaps her shoulder, only to throw his hands up when Seven sends him a glare.