#which is just. an absolutely brain turned off game that i used to play while listening to podcasts

[altfire-archive]

hh i should probably Consume some Fantasy Literature in preparation for writing my own Fantasy Literature but i cant attention span to read so i was Gonna get an audiobook or sthg but. they Cost Money and i dont even know if it would work for my brain. i have never tried to listen to an audiobook before. i usually cant do Audio Only but i wanted to try.

[bigfatbimbo]

Sub!Valentino lives in my brain rent free and I’m ashamed to admit it…but I have so many thoughts-

He needs to be broken. Tie him up and make him watch as I break down that ego, that pathetic need for attention so that even after he’s still thinking of that moment. That even while he’s at work, doing something (or someone) else, he is craving his true dom, the only person who he’ll let break him into submission.

Sub!Valentino keeping a piece of your clothes because he needs to smell you near even when you’re not. He’s so fucking pathetic he needs to be humbled and get his walking privileges revoked after a night of punishments.

Sub!Valentino, in my mind, needs a dom who at first is so indifferent to him. So not impressed and not turned on by his typical flirty and slutty behavior. (Bonus points if it’s a bodyguard situation: someone who has no choice but to be around him daily and put up with his bullshit) And it pisses him off that this person isn’t falling for his game like everyone else would. And when he goes to do the same thing he always does when he gets mad (i.e. violent temper tantrum) doesn’t let him do it. They stand up for themselves and instead put him in his place and read him and degrade him to filth for the pathetic whore he truly is.

And a one time thing, (a one night stand, a moment of sexual tension, a lingering touch in a sensitive place) becomes his new obsession. And suddenly all his attention, his flirtation, his lack of boundaries, is being turned into this dom. In his mind hoping to gain a new plaything, unaware of how he was about to become the plaything and love every lewd moment of it.

-🍳 Anon

Sub Valentino x Reader Headcanons —

a/n — this is very messy, i’m having a huge writers block lowkey.

warnings — dom reader, sub valentino, actually valentino is his own warning, degradation, NOT PROOFREAD!!

summary — pretty self explanatory!

Usually I don’t answer long asks with full headcanons but i’m going to bounce off of these ideas in a really long way so… here you go!

I absolutely agree that Valentino would literally need to be dommed by an unbothered reader. 

Like someone who literally just doesn’t care about Val at all. They produce barley any reactions at all when Valentino gets all up in they’re business. 

Not even getting mad, just being so unapologetically uninterested in whatever Valentino was doing.

That would piss him off so much. Like an ungodly amount. After a failed attempt at flirting and pushing your boundaries, which you blow off, he gets insanely mad. 

Probably throws things, shouting curses at you, saying you’re not worth his time, or worth anything for that matter. 

And maybe that’s when you take charge (not to get all ‘in character’ on you but like… hopefully that’s when you take charge because you wouldn’t like what happens)

So you would push him down on the nearest surface, maybe letting some venom seep into your tone, and degrade him for being such an attention whore. 

He thinks he knows what’s about to happen so of course he plays into it an unbarable amount, but simply cut him off by wrapping your hand around his throat and telling him ‘whores speak when spoken too.’

Then he’s a little scared. He’s used that line, used that tone before. It’s no secret you planned on being particularly cruel. 

So that definitely starts a new routine, one that Valentino absolute looks forward too, craves intensely, even. 

Degradation is definitely huge for him. Like calling him your useless slut, and even demeaning him in such a specific real way.

Your insults are so bitter he knows you believe every word of them, even when you’re pegging him or stroking his dick so attentively.

He’s whining at your words, playing into them, wanting more, but as you get meaner, he can’t help but sniffle a little. 

Overstimulating him, and berating him with insults, for example. 

Like he doesn’t cry easily, but the painful sensation of the constant stimulation, paired with your absolutely cruel words brings tears to his eyes. 

And then you make fun of him ruthlessly for crying, “Aren’t you supposed to be experienced? And you’re crying already? Pathetic.”

He’s moaning and sobbing out curses in Spanish as you fuck into his ass, or ride his dick, or toy with him, and begging for more. 

I think praise with Valentino is an interesting subject because like… he’s literally never done anything to lead to any kind treatment.

But maybe you’ve been particularly cruel to him, well like always but more than usual, and so you give him the simple scrap “Good boy.”

It’s surprising how much he reacts. Obviously he hold himself very high in his mind, but you neveracknowledge how fantastic he is.

So when you do, even this shred of praise makes his dick twitch and whine escape his throat.

I like the idea of him being totally obsessed with his dom. Like even after sex he’s all over you, very touchy too.

Constantly trying to get your attention, running his fingers up and down your arm, making a total show of himself. Just for you.

[obae-me]

Random Sibling Headcanons

I'm a wee bit sick, which is why I've put my more serious projects on a very short pause. That being said I still feel the need to write something, so why not get some ideas out in the form of little fun ideas? Featuring colored names this time because it's fun for my brain.

These are just some little headcanons I like to think the brothers have done, since I love thinking of their sibling/ at-home relationships with each other.

In the picture of Lucifer's office, he seems to have stairs heading up to a second-story loft of some sort. I've always imagined he has a "Pride" wall somewhere up there filled with memorabilia of his brother's greatest or proudest achievements. There's some photos, art pieces, awards his siblings gave up on keeping, etc. His brothers know about it but hate it, so they all never speak of it.

Mammon and Levi once both badly injured their hands, trying to outdo each other high-fiving. You know where you try to get that perfect smack and hurt the other person's palm? Yeah, like that. They whiffed it on the first try and had to do it again and just couldn't stop after that.

Belphie usually puts small portions of his dirty clothes into his brother's hampers so they can clean his clothes for him without them realizing. It drives them all wild having to sort it out each time, and Belphie thrives off of it.

One of Satan's favorite pranks was to quickly run around the whole house and use up every hot water source he can while Lucifer was taking a shower so his water turns ice cold while the eldest is still in it. It got to the point where Lucifer is actually fine taking cold showers now.

If a bunch of them are in the same room and one of them gets a call from Lucifer, the others will suddenly try to sound like something horrible is going on, more often than not trying to incriminate the person who picked up the phone, blaming them for some false scenario that never happened.

If Belphie gets woken up too many times in the same day, he'll find ways to wake his siblings up in the middle of the night. Once he managed to get into all their phones and set annoyingly loud alarms, another night he cursed the piano in the music room to play until morning. Now the brothers have an unspoken rule not to wake their youngest sibling up more than four times a day.

Asmo likes to barge into his siblings' rooms sometimes unannounced with his D.D.D. while he's live on Devilgram or Deviltube. He loves to catch his brother's doing something stupid, it's hilarious. Sometimes he's not even live, he's just recording so he can keep videos to laugh over later.

They trade chores often, much to Lucifer's frustration, but everyone has some chores they absolutely can't stand. They've even somehow come up with a bartering system of sorts. Laundry = 1 other chore like dusting, but something like Dishes = 2 chores like taking on laundry and vacuuming.

None of them have ever missed one of Beel's games. They always show up and sit in the same spots so Beel never has to look around for them in the crowd. Lucifer brings the bag of supplies and snacks should his siblings need it. Because they always end up complaining about something by the end of the night. Mammon always brings his megaphone that almost always gets in him trouble every time. Levi gives his brothers all glowsticks. Satan always secretly has tricks up his sleeve to use against the opposing team should any of them come close to harming Beel (although that's nearly impossible, but he has them as a precaution). Asmo made everyone the most beautiful signs to hold. And Belphie brings everyone blankets since it can get chilly in the stands. He also brings a big lunchbox of snacks for Beel to eat right after the game even though they always go out to eat right after.

Lucifer, Mammon, and Levi as the three eldest are used to giving their younger siblings things they no longer need. The younger four have plenty of hand-me-downs but more often then not, they don't really mind. Lucifer gives out anything he's not overtly a fan of which can be anything from books to cologne to jewelry. Everyone has a few old things of his. Mammon gives out a bunch of clothes quite frequently. Despite his greed, his room can only hold so much, and so he usually goes through a semi-regular purge. Anything his brothers don't grab he sells. Levi gives out old electronics since he upgrades to the newest stuff as soon as he can. Because of this, Satan owns a pair of cat-ear headphones.

On a trip to the human world once, Asmo bought Belphie one of those electronic toothbrushes that play a song in your head while you brush your teeth so the youngest no longer falls asleep during brushing. Yes, it was a Brittany Spears one. (Does this date me? Maybe. Do they even make those anymore?)

Mammon and Asmo have both sat Beel down and tried to give him a basic course on recognizing flirting to keep their younger brother from being so totally oblivious, but no matter how many times they try, he never notices. However, now if Beel is ever given a random phone number, he knows to take it to either of those two to sort it out for him.

Once, for Belphie's birthday he received the ugliest quilt made from little squares from his brother's t-shirts, pillowcases, robes, etc. They all worked together to sew it up and it's very, very obvious who did what parts. Belphie says he can't stand the awful thing but sleeps with it every night.

[ronearoundblindly]

For the dirty A-Z headcanon game can I get an A for Steve Rogers?

From this ask game, and I love you to the end of the line, anon, because this is pretty much THE one I wanted to answer...

A - Alone Time

How does he get off when all by himself?

Does he watch porn?

Is it all in his imagination?

Does he jerk off?

Does he use toys?

In case it wasn't obvious... MINORS DNI (vaguely coded to be gender neutral for the possibility of steve x reader or stucky or whatever your flavor)

Here we go, babes. I know I've written several different versions of Steve in various universes, but this is gonna be more generalized and not involve the very specific background experiences I've written into other things. This is just my good ol' fashioned headcanon of Steve masturbating!

This man takes his time--or at least would prefer to--even when it's just him. He will gently touch/play with himself for a while before grabbing his dick. Grazing his nails over his thighs. Pinching his nipples. I think this dude really has a thing with his throat? Like he thinks about teeth along his neck or being pulled forward by it and, yes, a squeeze or two. Don't flame me, I'm just saying!

He craves foreplay, is what I mean, and I don't think Steve feels fully aroused unless more than just his genitals are involved in the act, ya know?

He watches porn, but only for examples. There's a whole lot in modern pornography that is a huge turn-off for him. Steve uses certain imagery or sounds/sayings that he found in porn and kinda edits them together for his pleasure later--like mentally edits, lord knows, because that man would not get the hang of Final Cut Pro OR iMovie, feel me?--plus that way he can imagine a certain someone's voice actually saying those things to him or doing them to him.

Which brings us to Steve's imagination which is unbelievably vivid and runs rampant. Think about it: he's a strategist. He has to see tons of possible scenarios play out all at once, analyze where that leads and where that leaves him, and then plan to thwart or redirect all that happens into an ideal outcome. Don't tell me that artist does not have an incredible mind's eye.

Then we get to Steve finally touching himself expressly to come.

He's toyed with himself for a while, maybe gotten close but held back, probably enjoyed finding friction not with his fist. For some reason, I thoroughly believe he has a thing for fabrics? This guy enjoys the glide of silk and satin. I bet his sheets are nice and slick so he can thrust against them a little and think of a pretty skirt or a dressy, formal glove.

Actual toys? Like the kind advertised as sex toys? Like the kind he'd have to purchase with money in some capacity? No. I think shy Steve hasn't figured out a way to discreetly (and by that I mean, untraceably) do that. He refuses to use anything online attached to his name--credit card or secondary/digital wallet whatever--to buy something or to tell someone what he would want them to buy for him because then that person would know! He'd keel over from embarrassment right then and there!! ARE YOU INSANE?!?!

No. What Steve will do is get seemingly useful things for innocuous reasons and play dumb blond if anyone ever insinuates it could be a sex toy. That man can and will absolutely lie like a champ to keep those secrets. That man is a super soldier but his muscles still get sore; that's what the massager is for, not his taint, nuh-uh no how. How dare you ask him!

Which brings us to the climax: his climax.

Steve prefers to finish in the shower. He's spent all that time enjoying the feel of his hands or various textures, the dry (but not painful) drag of everything before the slick lubrication of lotion or conditioner creates a welcome high under the spray of water, and then, yes, he can clean himself right off afterward. Highly efficient. Also very effective at training his brain to get off quickly in a shower if necessary.

Strategy, you guys, it's all about strategy.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Are my answers to these like an audition for the Shameless Hoe Club? Maybe. Or maybe Ro has just lost the ability to filter herself...or care 🤭

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[robilover]

silver wolf who loves fem reader so so so much? silver wolf brain rot era has not left me since 26/04/2023 😭😭 basically hcs of her love for reader? and she’s basically willing to do everything in the universe for her (maybe some nsfw of silver wolf being a bit possessive bcos she’s jealous [i personally think she’s a possessive lover 👀😵‍💫]) how do you personally think silver wolf wld be (nsfw headcanons)? HELP my request is so vague 😭 but i hope you’ll do it either way 😭😵‍💫

did you know that silver wolf is my very first limited 5-star? I also got her light cone because I was so in love with her😭 had to skip seele just for her hshaja

Lovestruck!Silver Wolf SFW and NSFW Headcanons !

pairing(s): silver wolf x fem!reader

cw: silver wolf is a streamer, smitten and possessive silver wolf, strap-on use, implied fingering, marking, dom!silver wolf, men and homophobes dni.

SFW

silver wolf strikes me as someone who just loves to spoil her girlfriend with game credits. she definitely did not hack someone’s bank accounts—

to me, her main love language is gift giving. she always shows her love to you by giving you little trinkets that are either from games, or anything that makes her think of you.. especially when it comes to games.

if she hears you saying that you want this character, or that weapon of theirs, battle pass, or anything at all, you suddenly get them.

she’s a very skilled hacker, so why not put them to good use? even if you’re against them, she wouldn’t care at all.

aside from giving you stuff you like, she doesn’t mind holding you close in her arms. she loves your warmth.

whenever she plays, she always calls for you to sit beside her.. or even her lap. why, you ask? well, she thinks that you bring her luck to her games and gacha pulls. she thinks of you as her lucky charm!

she occasionally gives you kisses whenever she feels like it. when she somehow gets her hands off of her keyboard or phone, she puts one of her hands (or both) on your body. may it be your cheeks, your waist, your hips, your thighs — anywhere. she just can’t help but want to touch you as a way to take a break from her games.

there are times that she just cups your face and tells you how cute you look, even poking your cheek with a chuckle. that little gesture would make your face heat up.

most of the time, you would catch her staring at you. what you don’t know was that she’s already gushing about you (she does that 24/7). you’d already see her faintly blushing and you would ask her why her face is red. she brushes it off by saying that it was hot in the room before turning away to get snacks from her food stash.

nsfw under the cut, read at your own risk!

—

NSFW

silver wolf may not show it much, but she is possessive towards you. she absolutely hates it when people hit on you, may it be in games, in her streams, or in real life.

if she sees someone hitting on you in game while you’re both playing, you could see her gripping her mouse/game console/phone so tightly, almost like she could break it if she continued to apply force on them. she would mutter under her breath on how she’d hack their accounts if they don’t stop.

if she’s on stream and you could be seen by the camera, her chat goes crazy over you—basically thirsting over you. it would make her grit her teeth as she tries oh-so politely to tell her chat to calm down, it’s just her beautiful girlfriend and you’re all hers.

if she couldn’t handle it anymore, she abruptly ends her stream and turns to you, as you were just laying on her bed. she would look at you with hunger and immediately removes her headphones and pounces on you, which resulted in you squealing.

when she’s possessive and jealous, she tends to be rough.

you would have bite marks all over your body—your neck, collarbones, shoulders, stomach, thighs—basically anywhere that she has access to. after all, she loves to show everyone who you belong to.

silver wolf loves it when you moan her name. it encourages her to fuck you so hard until you could barely even form a single word other than her name. for her, it’s an ego booster.

she would make you cum countless of times using her fingers. and if you’re overstimulated enough, she decides to use a strap-on. a big one.

she’d pound into your cunt so harshly that the room would be filled with your loud, whiny moans and skin slapping against skin. she’d grunt and groan at your moans, her face buried into your neck as she places kisses on your skin to make you whine under her.

she would grumble how you’re hers and no one else’s between thrusts and grunts, her hands grasping tightly onto your hips.

silver wolf surprisingly has quite the stamina, that the both of you would last for hours on her bed.

once she’s satisfied, she becomes awfully and surprisingly? gentle.

her aftercare would be gentle kisses on the marks she left on your skin, whispering praises into your ear at how well you took her and that she loves you so much. she also loves how fucked out you look that she sensed that you could barely register anything that she says.

in the end, she cuddles you close to her heart while whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you fall asleep in her arms (probably passed out) <33

[thebibliosphere]

What is the gameplay like on Gotham Knights? I have poor coordination so I have trouble with anything more complex than LOZ: Ocarina of Time. Like, on a scale of Pokémon->Dragon Age->LOZ->Dark Souls?

It's a bit clunky like Dragon Age 2, tbh. Except it doesn't have the excuse of coming out in 2011. The mechanics and camera controls are one of the things that let it down a lot, IMO.

I’m constantly getting stuck on walls and the edge of ledges because the controls feel laggy and the game’s not consistent about which surfaces you can climb and which ones you need to grapple. It's fine if you’re fighting in more open spaces but it turns the timed events into an exercise in frustration. Not to mention the number of times it feels like I’ve taken damage through an obstacle from enemy ranged attacks when my own ranged attacks bounce off invisible walls if I’m not standing in the exact spot the game needs me to be in. This results in me just key smashing melee a lot until every around me stops twitching.

I’m still enjoying it, but it is v. glitchy and I understand why people are leaving angry reviews. Especially if they are deeply committed to the immersive elements and were expecting the same level of polish from the Arkham games, which this studio also made.

I’m just casual enough a gamer that I’m enjoying muttering “parkour” to myself as I accidentally fall off buildings and plumet to my death because my graple hook glitched out and went the exact opposite way I’d been aiming.

I’m really just playing it for the characters. It feels like playing a a game written by people who understand the appeal of found family that went hard on the campier elements of the franchise while still maintaining a decent level of aching sadness for the tragedy they’ve endured.

You can feel the group fracturing under the weight of Bruce’s death with Dick doing everything he can to fill the void and stay positive and “normal” for the sake of everyone around him, including Alfred who is devastated but also trying to keep it together. Barbara, mourning an extra loss, is trying so hard to stay level headed and useful for Dick. Being both Oracle and Batgirl while also acting like a fun big sister to Tim who stands out as really young in this iteration.

Sure he’s a kid genius, but he’s also only 16 with a monumental caffeine addiction (you can’t tell me all the energy drinks on the shopping list pinned to the fridge aren’t for him) and mourning the loss of Bruce while also just wanting to do normal teenage shit, like asking the group for help with his art homework and being annoyed that his role as Robin is keeping him from spending time with his online boyfriend.

Jay is very raw and angry and obviously processing his own trauma on top of everything that just happened but even he steps up, trying to be there for Tim, teaming up with Babs to gently pick on Dick when he’s being particularly Boy Wonder-ish. Seeing him stress cook is also a nice added touch as are the photos of him and Bruce working on stuff. Bonding.

Which is another thing I Love. From what we see of him, Bruce is in his absolute DILF element in flashbacks and in recordings. All sad smiles and a gentle, head-shaking tolerance for the absolute ribbing the kids put him through for being too serious and neglecting himself. Not to mention all the pictures of him with Dick and Tim and Jason. And so many of him and Alfred and Ace. (The one on the fridge of him and Alfred showing them adopting Dick at the courthouse almost killed me. They all looked so young and happy.)

I’m getting serious “Bruce is a good dad with a warped sense of humor who hugs his kids and spends quality time with them, actually, and you’re wrong if you write him otherwise” fanon vibes, and that's honestly my favorite Bruce.

It’s basically appealing to everything I love about the franchise while scratching an itch in my brain the way crackfic taken seriously does.

And that’s enough to make me forgive the bad controls and glitches. But I could see it not being enough for some people, especially if you’ve already got poor hand eye coordination. Which I do. But again, I don’t really care about being good at games. I’m just dicking around and having fun wringing dopamine out of the narrative.

[jaemmphilia]

★ 𝘮𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘦: 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦 ★ || han j.s

★ summary: after nearly dying in the pool, you and han chill out together while you calm down. after you feel better, you watch as the boys have fun in the pool. later, you all are tasked to choose food ingredients without knowing what everyone else chose. you all cook the food together and then you all have a debate and get to know each other.

★ characters: bang chan, lee know, changbin, y/n (he/him pronouns, masculine frame), hyunjin, han, felix, seungmin, i.n

★ warnings: none that i can think of really, mentions of food and cooking, han is falling in love with the pretty reader :3, lee know and seungmin are onto han, mentions of jay why pee

★ word count: 2.6K (2663)

★ binnie's thoughts: welcome to part two of the mixtape series! uhm, i felt the need to start working on this right away, so pls let me know your thoughts by reblogging or commenting!!

★ requested?: nope, just a continuation

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO way represents the stray kids members as people. this is just for fun, so don't take it to heart. just enjoy!

After the nine of you– minus you, technically– finish swimming, you all venture inside to take  nice, hot showers and change into clean clothes before filming resumes. You’re seated on your bed, fresh out of the shower, your red-dyed hair dripping cold water onto your shoulders. You would grab your towel, but you’re too lazy to get up, honestly. You scroll through your phone, checking your socials when you hear a soft knock at the door. You turn your attention to the door before speaking:

“Come in!” you call out, and Jisung opens the door a bit, poking his head through. You chuckle at him, and you tilt your head at him. “What’s up, Han?”

Han opens the door more, stepping inside the room. He fiddles with his hands, and you can tell he wants to say something, but his nerves are getting the best of him.

“It’s okay, I don’t bite.” you bark out a laugh, which makes Han chuckle. You smile wider, liking the sight of his toothy smile. 

“I just wanted to check up on you. You know, to make sure you’re okay after what happened earlier.” he says, finally looking at your face and not at his sock-clad feet. 

You hum before answering him, “Yeah, I’m all good. And tell Changbin-hyung not to beat himself up about pushing me. I should have told you all about my fear of water.” 

“Yeah, but it’s not anyone’s fault. It was just a tricky situation that went south real fast.” he says, and you nod with a shrug. “We’re all going downstairs to play games and sing. Wanna join us?” he asks and you can’t fight the smile that creeps onto your face.

“Sure, sounds like fun. Maybe I’ll get to beat Felix at ping pong again.” you laugh as you stand, following Han to the downstairs area of the house. He chuckles as he walks beside you, and he can feel the warmth of your body touching his arm at your close proximity.

Once you step foot downstairs, you’re met with the gorgeous voice of Jeongin. He sounds amazing, and you can only wish to sound like him. You sit down on the bench behind where he and Seungmin are standing, just bobbing your head along to the music. You cross your legs as Han sits beside you, listening to the youngest member sing his little heart out. Once he finishes his song, you clap for him as Lee Know steps up to sing next. 

He picks a more upbeat song, which causes Han to jump up and begin jumping around, hyping up his (obviously his favorite) hyung. You laugh at the two of them, your stomach hurting from laughing so hard. You can only hope to be as close to them as they are to each other one day. Han can hear you laughing, and he wants to engrave the sound into his brain on repeat. 

Lee Know finishes his song and he looks around, wondering if anyone else wants to sing next. You bite your bottom lip, wanting to sing and show off your skills, but you don’t want to seem like you’re trying to upstage anyone. 

Fuck it, you decide and you get up, standing in between Han and Lee Know. You clear your throat, catching both of their attention. 

“Oh, you want a turn? Be my guest.” Lee Know says, handing you the microphone and the device to pick a song. You hope he doesn’t notice the shakiness of your hands as you take the device from him.

You search through the long selection of songs, before you get excited. You quickly choose the song “Song of Dann” by Kingdom. You honestly didn’t expect your audition song to be on the karaoke machine, but you’re elated about it. You sway from side to side as the song starts, and you close your eyes, a habit you have when you prepare to sing. Closing your eyes helps you get over the nervous jitters of performing in front of a crowd of people. You even do it when you’re singing in your room alone. You allow the music to take over you, the slow instruments burrowing into your ears, making you feel light and airy. 

You begin to sing, matching the pitch of the original singer almost perfectly. Your voice is a little deeper, and you often struggle with singing notes higher than your normal vocals. You start to get into it, the echo of the karaoke machine loud as it reverberates in the downstairs area of the house. 

Everyone stops what they’re doing to listen to you sing your heart out. They all feel moved by your performance, each and every one of them getting chills. They knew you could sing, but they didn’t know you could sing like that. Your eyes are screwed shut as you belt out the heartfelt lyrics. The lyrics are sad, full of emotions of heartbreak and pain. Han wonders why you chose a song like this. Did someone in your life hurt you? If it were me, I would never hurt you, he thinks to himself as he watches you.

When your mini-concert is over, you finally open your eyes, looking around you. You find everyone’s eyes on you, wide and shocked. You feel your ears get warm, and you laugh nervously. Why were they looking at you as if you had grown two heads? It made you nervous.

“Sorry. Was that too loud?” you ask, your hand coming up to tug at the short hairs at the nape of your neck. You take in everyone’s expressions, most of them showing shock. Your eyes land on Han, and you try to look away. You don’t want him to see your red ears. But the look on his face is hard to turn away from. 

His jaw is open a little, and you can see a little bit of the inside of his mouth. His eyes are wide, and you can clearly see the deep brown pools that are his eyes. He’s bare-faced, and you think he looks the most handsome like this. You both avert your eyes before you get caught staring. The rest of the boys would never let you live it down, you just know it. 

Changbin’s loud, gravelly voice snaps you out of your lovesick daze. “Are you joking?! That was fucking amazing!” he cheers, and then he cringes at the various groans from the camera crew. He bows in apology, his ears turning a nice shade of deep pink. 

You laugh softly at Changbin, shaking your head, “Thank you, hyung. I’m glad you enjoyed that mediocre performance.” you chuckle, earning a strangled noise from the older male. 

“Mediocre?” Han nearly screeches, causing everyone in the room to jump and express their complaints at the male’s loud noise. “That was nowhere near mediocre! You sang that song perfectly without vocal warmups! I could only wish to be able to do that!”

You wave him off as you watch Felix disappear upstairs. Where was he going? You decide not to dwell on it as you hand the microphone back to Lee Know. You walk over to the pool table and grab a cue. You watch as Changbin resets the pool balls. You honestly suck at pool, but Changbin doesn’t need to know that.

Soon enough, you are the last one downstairs. You sing another song by yourself until the staff motions for you to head upstairs. You go to where they tell you to go, and you’re surprised to see a table full of ingredients on it. You tilt your head and you hear a tapping noise to your left. You turn your head to see all the members standing behind glass walls, each of them pointing at the table. 

You can’t help but laugh at them frantically trying to communicate with you through glass walls. Lee Know is looking at the ingredient he wants you to choose, his eyes bugged out and wide. You feel your sides tense up from laughing so hard. 

You place your hand over a pack of various vegetables, looking at the eight guys. They all panic and shake their heads, some of them yelling, although it just looks like they’re yawning to you. You decide to tease them some more, and you place your hand over a carton of eggs. This time their reactions are neutral, a few of them giving you a thumbs up or a nonchalant shrug. 

You turn towards the camera, “Get a load of these guys. These are your boys, Stay?” you ask teasingly, running your hands through your hair, exposing your forehead. 

Han bites his lips as he watches you make a simple action look so effortlessly sexy. He knows his ears are red, but he’s too distracted by you to even care. He watches as you bite your bottom lip, tapping your chin as you consider your options. He thinks you look so attractive like this, your red hair fluffy from your shower, a pair of wire-framed glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. You don’t have any makeup on, so he can clearly see the freckles and acne scars that litter your cheeks. He so desperately wants to kiss your cheeks, knowing it would make you laugh and push him away, telling him to stop. He wouldn’t stop, though.

You finally pick your ingredients, a pack of sausages that look so tasty to you. You make your way to the boys, all of you laughing at the crazy faces Lee Know and Seungmin were making. You imitated Lee Know’s crazy eyes, making Chan double over in laughter. 

You’re a little surprised by how comfortable you’ve become with these guys. You just met them a few hours ago, and here you are laughing and joking with them as if you’ve known your entire life. You actually start to believe that you belong in this group. 

You all grab the ingredients you picked, and you all start cooking together. You wouldn’t consider yourself the best chef in the entire world, but you’re at least a bit familiar with how to cook. Growing up with an elderly grandma meant you had to help cook dinner in order to eat it, too. That was no issue for you, because you adored spending time with her. 

You cook with everyone, and you notice that while everyone else is eating, Chan is still standing over the grill, cooking the last bits of meat. You get up and walk over to him. 

“Let me take over. You need to eat, too, hyung.” you say, holding your hands out telling him to place the cooking utensil in your open hand. You can see him hesitate before he finally forks over the utensil. Huh, that was easier than I expected, you laugh to yourself.

Chan sits with everyone else as he puts some food into his empty bowl. You listen as everyone hums and moans at the taste of the food. Your heart swells, knowing that they all get to enjoy food that they made themselves. You finish cooking the rest of the meat and you bring it to the table, before sitting down in the empty seat next to Han.

Han tries not to tense up when he feels your arm bump into his when you get comfortable in your seat. The spot on his arm tingles. You apologize to him, running a hand through your hair again. He notices the way you push up your glasses when they slide down the bridge of your nose. He thinks you’re so breathtaking, even though you’re doing the most normal actions that everyone does. 

As you all eat in peace, the staff grabs your attention, explaining the task to you all. They say that you all are going to debate against each other based off of the lyrics from their songs. 

You’re a bit nervous, because of course, you haven’t participated in any of their songs yet. You’ve listened to their music many times, but not enough to memorize the words or the true meaning of said lyrics.

You wonder if you stayed quiet enough that they wouldn’t expect you to comment. Oh how wrong you were, my dear. 

The debate gets heated really fast, Changbin being the loudest of the bunch. He makes sure everyone knows what he thinks, and you feel bad for poor Chan and his eardrums, because Changbin is no different than a siren. 

You have to admit that he’s funny, and him being loud as hell just makes him funnier. You find yourself doubled over in laughter because of the comments he makes throughout the debate. You lean on Han as you laugh, and you miss the way he tenses up, his laughs becoming more nervous. 

After the debate and the cameras are off while the staff eats, the nine of you are talking about your families, just trying to get to know each other while you have a bit of privacy from blinding cameras. 

“So, Y/N-hyung. Tell us about you, we want to hear about you now.” Felix says, leaning back in his chair as he pats his full stomach. 

You take a sip of your soda, humming in acknowledgement. You knew this moment was to come, so you are prepared. “Alright, I was born in the USA, in Georgia. I lived with my mom, dad, and older twin siblings before I actually moved to Daejoon.” you start, scratching your shoulder as you speak. 

“I lived there with my grandma until she passed, and then I moved to Seoul. I moved hoping to push my musical career forward. My siblings jokingly told me to audition as an idol to different agencies, so I did.

“I didn’t really expect to get accepted, but I did. I did an in-person audition, and JYP wanted to put me in a group immediately. Now I’m here with you guys, and I really appreciate you guys being so kind to me. I know this isn’t easy for you all, and I bet you hated me before even meeting me, but I really do appreciate you guys working with me.” you finish your little rant and you look up from the table. 

The eight of them are staring at you, and they’re smiling at you. You can’t help but smile back at them, your eyes welling up with tears. You hate being so emotional, always crying at the smallest things. You wipe your eyes with your sweater sleeve as you laugh. 

“Sorry, I didn’t want to start crying, but I’m just really grateful.” you explain, and Han wraps his arm around you, patting your upper bicep. You automatically lean into his touch, liking his gentle pats. 

Seungmin and Lee Know exchange devious looks, which isn’t a good thing. They’ve both noticed how Han looks at you, he’s not very subtle about it. They’re confused about how you haven’t noticed yet. The two of them think it’s pretty cute, but they are also aware of what could happen if things went south. It would get so awkward. 

“Well, we’re all happy to have you join our family. It may not have seemed like it at first, but now that we have an idea of who you are as a person, we’re on board.” Chan says, causing everyone to nod and let out other kinds of agreements. 

You all clean up after dinner and you get ready to start filming the next part of the episode. You’re on dish duty with Changbin, and you can’t help but question his dish-washing methods. Does he have to be seated while he cleans the dishes? You don’t audibly question the older male, you just let him do his thing.

This doesn’t feel like such a bad idea anymore, and you honestly consider thanking JYP for making such a weird decision. You wouldn’t do that, though. Not in a million years.

[miam0re]

really wanted to req for mc looking after the little D's while the demon brothers are watching them interact and thinking how good of a parent they would make (you could add some of the side characters if you're not too lazy)

i saw you take requests after i read some of your work so i just had to, I'd get it if you don't want to but if you do take you time

This sounds so cute uwu I wish I had more thoughts to pen down but my brain is absolutely scattered at the moment sooo :p (and yes I am a bit lazy so gonna just scribble down some thoughts about the demon brothers hueheuhue) I played around with the idea, changing it up a little bit so I hope that's ok! (Also I noticed you using 'they' so I'll try to keep this answer gender neutral, please tell me if I slipped up anywhere) (ps not proofread heheh just ideas dumped)

You and Little D | Demon Brothers

“Will you please. Stop. Talking.” The Little D of Pride was being so difficult with all its mindless yapping and screeching, Lucifer was about to literally throw the stupid mini demon out of the window…had it not been for you showing up to save the day!

All Little D wanted was to be heard about his amazing idea on how to decorate the ballroom for an upcoming event and Lucifer wasn’t bothered to give him any mind.

“Oh? Why don’t you tell me all about your ideas? I can’t wait to hear how awesome the are!”

Seeing you…leaning your chin you palm and listening intently to the little one, nodding eagerly and gasping in surprise at all its wonderful ideas…Lucifer felt his heart rate shoot through the roof

He quickly turned around to hide the growing redness on his pale cheeks, lest you actually catch him blushing at how sweet and loving you were…just like a parent

Perhaps it was too soon to be plagued with such thoughts- thoughts of you both having a little family of your own where you cared for your child just the way you cared for Little D-

“Ahem, I’ll be leaving now. Don’t bother yourself with listening to this thing for too long if you have your own matters to attend to.”

His heart skipped a beat when you shook your head, saying that you had more than enough time to spare to ‘your dearest little D’ You were going to be the death of him. 

They were fighting like LITERAL CHILDREN!! Little D of Greed was flying around with Mammon’s precious credit card.

“YOU RASCAL!! COME BACK HERE WITH GOLDIE RIGHT NOW!” Mammon leapt across the room right as you walked into the weird scene

The oh so innocent Little D scampered into your arms and whined, crying about how Mammon was bullying him, who was quick to deny any such accusations

“Oh, is mammon being mean? Don’t worry, I’m here for you.” You nuzzled your nose against the smirking little demon and Mammon knew that he was supposed to be raging with jealousy but…wow, you were so gentle and the way you had Little D wrapped around your finger just the same way you had him…

How you hugged and comforted the cheeky little demon, Mammon started visualising you as a parent

Mammon was already down bad for you and this little sight was the cherry on top

“I wanna marry ya- I MEAN STOP SIDING WITH THAT LITTLE IDIOT”

Mammon was quick to dart closer to you, prying your hands off the Little D who had occupied all of your love and attention 

“Hey now, there’s enough hugs for everyone here.” You laughed and wrapped one arm around Mammon and the other holding the demon

Wow, you were so mature, being able to handle two jealous demons fighting over your love

Yeah you’d definitely be perfect to handle mammon when you both have a child of your own

Leviathan isn’t really the most attentive to his surroundings when he’s immersed in his video games, especially if it is the latest first person game with his favourite character RURI CHAN!!

Which left the Little D of Envy starved for attention, pouting and poking at the purple haired man

“Stoppppp! Can’t you see I’m busy? Go find some other way to stay entertained.”

Sad little demon floats aimlessly until it reaches the lounge where you are resting on the couch, a Switch in your hand. You notice the sad little demon and smile at him, calling him over to sit on your lap.

An hour passed and Levi noticed the silence…he got up and out of his room as he started praying that Little D hadn’t gotten into any trouble

But what he walked into made his little gamer boy heart race

And excited Little D was on your lap with your Switch in hand as you cheered on him, screeching in happiness when he won first place in DemonKart. You both did a little synchronised dance, ending with a high five

Oh Levi’s otaku little heart couldn’t handle the heat travelling through his veins, seeing you be such a good parent like figure and omg maybe you guys could get married and have a little one of your own to play 3 player games with-

“Hey let me in on the gaming as well!!”

Satan wanted to give attention to the Little D of Wrath but he was far too focused on the spell books that lay open on front of him 

“Why don’t you got…sort out my bookshelves? Go be useful.”

Little D was offended but he had to listen smh, but hey, Satan didn’t say anything about him not being allowed to recruit some extra help

And that’s where you came in, pulling us your sleeves and reading the spiral bindings of some of the hundreds of books in Satan’s room, finding the best category to put them in…until you saw the little demon reach for an unstable pile

“Wait! Little D! Be careful!!” A loud crash alerted Satan, who came running into the room

His eyes widened when he saw you on the floor, hugging and rocking a crying Little D back and forth, “Shhhh, it’s okay…you’re a strong one. You’ll be fine.” You comforted it, caressing the spot where the books fell on it

Satan’s heart did a backflip at your caring and affectionate nature. You had worry drawn all over your face as you held onto the little demon, giving it the support it needed in that moment…you would be the perfect parent

You were so much better than anything he could have imagined and making a family with you would be better than any fairy tale “Why don’t we all sort the books together, yeah? That will be better.”

“No no! You’re doing it all wrong! That is not how you apply mascara!” Asmo pouted at the Little D of Lust who had managed to yet again mess up Asmo’s makeup

The Little D frowned at Asmo’s uncharacteristic outburst, feeling helpless while floating out of the room.

“Hey, are you okay? I heard Asmo shout? Did he shout at you?” You showed up in front of the door, opening your arms for the sad little demon

You tapped your chin in thought when an idea clicked in your head “Why don’t I teach you some tricks, hmm?” The way the little demon’s eyes lit up made you smile even wider

Together in your room, you showed it the various techniques of applying makeup, ranging from mascara to blush to lipstick, till the demon had almost mastered the skills

Together, the two of you waltzed into Asmo’s room, showing off your beautiful face all thanks to Little D’s skills.

“Aw, did you teach Little D how to apply makeup? You look so good! You’re such a good teacher.” He pet the little demon’s head

Then Asmo’s face sparkled with the thought of how nurturing you would be as a parent 

“Omg you would be such a wonderful parent when we have a child! You can teach them how to apply make up too! Wouldn’t that be perfect!!”

His unfiltered words made you blush and hide your face away from the thoughts of having a child with him 

“Ughhhhh I’m so hungryyyyyy! I want foooooood!” Beel was once again whining about how hungry he was and unfortunately Little D of Gluttony was subject to his whining

Sad for Beel, Little D wasn’t exactly the most equipped in the kitchen, floating to the room and head spiralling with the number of cabinets and cooking equipment

Lucky for the mini demon, you walked into the kitchen, seeing it in its distressed state

“Why don’t you and I cook something together? That would be a good way to learn, yeah?” You offered, pulling out some pans to make the simplest thing you knew…pancakes

The little demon floated around and carefully listened to your instructions, laughing along with you when some batter accidentally spilled out of the mixing bowl or when you managed to land the perfect flip on the pan

“Mmmmm I can smell pancakes.” Beel, drawn buy the scent of the treat walked into the kitchen, stopping short in his tracks seeing you cooking with the demon

It was a sight right from heaven, his favourite human and his favourite demon doing his favourite activity (cooking something for Beel)

He smiled when the little demon laughed while pouring syrup and decorating the stack with berries, as per your instructions. His heart warmed at how parent-like you were when you high fived the demon and hugged it

“Oh Beel! Look what Little D and I made! Pancakes for you!”

Perhaps one day he would be walking in on seeing you making pancakes with a little one of your own.

The day was already quite tiring, Lucifer had told(more like ordered) Belphie to run some errands around Devildom, grocery shopping ughhh 

All Belphie wanted to do was go into his blankets and fall asleep

He thought to himself, wondering what the Little D of Sloth would have been up to, all alone at home with nobody else to supervise 

Honestly, if the little demon was anything like him, it would probably be in a deep sleep on the couch 

When Belphie entered the living room, he noticed you on the couch and beamed at you, approaching to give you a big hug “Hey!-“

“Shhhhhhh! Little D is sleeping!” You loudly whispered at him, your tone sounding very much like a scolding

Belphie pouted and looked at your lap, the irritated feeling in his gut changing to a soft, loving sensation

Little D was asleep on your lap murmuring in sleep. You were stroking the little demon’s back and if you even dared to stop, it twisted and turned around violently till you gave it attention

“Little D is so much like you! If I stop stroking it, it would get mad!” You giggled when Belphie sat next to you, his thoughts straying to daydreams

Maybe one day the one of your lap will truly be someone like belphie, your child. You stroking the child’s hair who slept peacefully in your embrace.

Belphie blushed, leaning his face in your shoulder to hide himself from your gaze

“Can I rest on your shoulder for a while? I wanna dream a bit.”

Dream about having a life with you, making a family with you hehe.

[redflagshipwriter]

Nest Swap chapter 5 progress

In which Tim flirts with the sad thoughts but is not committed to them.

masterpost

Probably the best thing to do was to make sure everyone was happy with him. If he did everything that everybody wanted, there would be no issues. 

So, Tim finished his experiment for Miss Fox and sent her his report. The groceries arrived while he was finishing up. After he put it away, he made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and ate it one-handed while he looked up the address that Jason had told him about. 

“That's pretty far away,” Tim mused. Some grape jelly dropped onto the keyboard. He swiped it up with his sleeve. He was a little less careful about the apartment now that he knew it was Big Tim’s place and not someone important or mean. 

Huh.

Tim paused mid contemplation. Speaking of important people, where was Mom? (And also Dad.) He turned his head around looking for the most recent post card. He usually kept that on the fridge.

Apparently, Big Tim had lost the habit. The dig post card tacked to the fridge was years old. Tim took it down and read it anyway, smiling at Mom’s handwriting. It was neat and precise, just like her. 

He felt better. He'd figure it out later. Tim put a pin on the thought and went back to focusing on his- on Jason's request. He squirmed in his chair while he thought it through.

The address was in a residential neighborhood, the kind with separate houses and not apartment complexes. The suspect himself lived in a duplex. The other half of the duplex was registered to a retiree who Tim didn't find any digital trail of, other than that her Social security checks were being cashed and her bills were paid on time. Oh, neat, she had been part of Gotham’s historical recreation society. She seemed kinda cool.

She had crazy huge electric bills, though. Tim frowned at that. He wasn't absolutely sure. But he thought that most people didn't have electric bills in excess of $600 monthly. How was she even affording that off of her Social security income? 

“Maybe the neighbor killed her and is using her apartment for nefarious purposes,” Tim reasoned aloud. “He's chasing her check and concealing the death. Maybe he uses her apartment to store his industrial sausage making machines.” 

It was a bit of a reach but it seemed a little more likely than his follow-up idea: her hobby was running every appliance in her house at the same time for all the hours that she was awake.

Focus, Tim! How was he going to surveil this place?

It wasn’t like there were any nice big buildings with dramatic awnings and gargoyles to creep around. It was suburbia. 

Tim spun around on his chair miserably, hands on his head to help him think.

Were there any abandoned homes in the area that he could use as a viewpoint? He checked on that. No. No, there weren’t. Dangit. He looked up everyone who lived in the neighborhood, wondering if there might be like, a family on vacation or someone whose second floor was unoccupied. He didn’t see anything useful like that. There were just a bunch of families with little kids.

He spun faster. Maybe the centrifugal force would somehow jar his brain awake.

“There’s nothing for it,” Tim decided ruefully. “I have to go undercover as a child.”

He put on the light up sneakers that he had ordered, washed his face, and made sure he had enough money for the bus. Then he set off on an adventure with a little notepad in his pocket. When he got to the apartment lobby he realized that he probably should have brought Big Tim’s phone, but oh well. It was too far now.

He took three buses and walked twenty minutes. He arrived in the right neighborhood in the early evening, around 5 pm. He looked for rogue groups of playing kids to join in. He’d do whatever game they were playing, then subtly interrogate them.

Unfortunately, it seemed like everyone was inside eating dinner. Tim frowned at one window. He could see a table being set.

Weird.

Alright, new plan. The old lady neighbor was probably dead, so he could just sneak into her half of the duplex, find a place to hide, and observe whatever sick and twisted stuff Jason’s bad guy did. Then he could tell Jason about it later, and he would like Tim.

He tried the backdoor. It was locked. Tim skulked around the house and tried windows until he found one that was open. He had to scramble a bit to climb up the siding to get into the house but he managed it. He hit the floor with a tumble.

“I have a mace!” said a female voice. “I am prepared to use it upon you!”

Tim rolled over to see the retiree. “Oh,” he said. “Hello.” He was a little disappointed that he was wrong about her being dead, though of course it’s always nice when someone isn’t murdered.

Mrs. Henderson yanked open a drawer and withdrew her mace. She pointed it at him steadily over her walker.

“Whoa,” said Tim. “That’s really cool. That’s Gothic, right?”

She looked at her mace. “...I believe so,” she said. “Get out of my home!”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Tim said, deliberately not agreeing. He sat up and crossed his legs. “I didn’t realize that you lived here.”

Mrs. Henderson slowly lowered her Gothic mace, which was probably a replica of one from Western Europe and weighed about 2 kilograms. “...Did you mean to go next door?” she said, sounding more confused and less hostile. 

“Yeah, I got mixed up,” Tim lied like a champion. “I accidentally locked myself out and no one is home.”

Although that really wouldn’t be true for much longer. Hm. Maybe Tim should have waited until tomorrow to come by.

[keikiri-kitten]

MOMENTS BEFORE DISASTER ★ KEIGO TAKAMI

warnings: angst, arguments, slight spoilers, foreshadowing, the war arc

this is part of a series about moments that you and keigo face as a couple during the war arc. they will be posted absolutely out of order. check the masterlist for the correct order!

It was a form of sick joke allowing hero fights to be displayed on television like some boxing match. It was a torturous game that the Japanese government didn’t have to play. They could sit in their cushy offices while heroes and villains go at each other's throats. Meanwhile families and significant others of these heroes and students have to be relocated for the security of their own lives. These same people who also have to wonder in fear and agony if their special ones would come home.

You can’t even remember when sending Keigo off to work was just a simple kiss on the cheek and a promise to see him when his patrol was over. You just knew that those days existed. However, you can’t feel them anymore. You can’t feel the roughness of his beard pressed against your cheek as he kissed you goodbye. Thinking about hearing his voice was no good; it sounded so distorted. There was no way to comprehend the scent of his cologne. Your brain even attempted to wash his face out of your mind as worry started to take over you. Being the partner of a hero never felt serious until that moment when you were watching every single camera pan and scene change of very real, life threatening fights. It was inhumane.

It was as if there was a little more room in the sky for a silver lining. Mercy had always found its way towards you and Keigo. He was always smart enough to outdo a villain and even slicker to find his way back to you. The small beeping of the padlock outside startled you out of your over thinking. Your eyes grew wide as the door flung open to expose a tattered Keigo.

The man sauntered intot he room with a limp. His eyes were low to the ground, but he carried a weak smile on his face as tiny wings flapped in excitement over you. The hero shut the door behind him before leaning on it, flicking gold eyes your way as he sent you a comical, toothy grin. “Hi, birdie.” it would have made your heart melt at the sight, but after what you just witnessed over the past couple of days, you were simply happy he was alive.

“Oh my God,” was muttered under your breath. It felt like the first breath you took since you turned on the television. You watched his weapons fall to the ground prior to jumping up and rushing towards him. There was no time to waste before you wrapped your arms around him and shoved your face into his neck. You could smell the cologne still lingering in his suit mixed with a little bit of sweat and the dirt of the outside world.

“Ah,” the hero seethed, loosely wrapping an arm around your waist while using his other hand to rub your upper back. “I told you not to watch those live feeds, now look at–”

His scolding went from one ear and out the other. Lifting your face out of his neck, you both met each other eye to eye. “I was worried sick about you. They wouldn’t let me watch you— the cameras kept changing to other heroes who–” you watched his eyebrows lift while you interrupted him. He knew if he didn’t try to calm you down, you would keep at your rambling. That would be good for neither of you.

Using both arms to wrap around your body, he pulled you in tighter and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. That rough feeling brought you comfort, choosing to lean into his touch. “Come on, calm down. I’m right here, okay?” he attempted to reassure you. “How was your day?”

It was supposed to be a distraction question, like when doctors play the airplane game with babies before giving them vaccines. With the mind you had, it caught you off guard and flustered you immediately. “What?”

“How was your day?” he repeated with a smile so warm it seared your heart. Keigo noticed the agitated, confused look on your face which made him chuckle. A hand reached to the round of your cheek within the confines of his glove to give you a gentle caress. “Let’s not talk about it, pretty.”

“You seriously can’t be dismissive about this, Keigo.” your brows were stitched together, shaking your head though you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from his hand. You could feel the tears and leftover gravel in the leather of the fabric touching your face. That alone made you buzz. It was almost surreal how you could watch him risk his life on television for the world to see but he wants to be a simple man when he gets home.

“You saw me almost get my ass handed to me. I would think you got all you needed to know,” actually no, you didn’t. The lousy camera men patrolling over all of the violence were too busy getting all of the heroes and not just the number two.

“No,“ you cooed quietly, pulling your arms from his body to carefully run your hands over his clothed abdomen slowly. “I only get a few moments to worry about you at home until you’re back in the sky again. You almost died today. I want to touch you, hold you… I wanna talk about it.” The begging in a hushed whisper made his pupils widen; it damn near altered his brain chemistry. “Come on, you don’t have to keep this to yourself. There’s no way you do.”

He wouldn’t admit it, but it was almost a drowning feeling when you worry about him. Fear for him was more unlikely than being feared by him. The hero’s throat was tightening up and his soul felt as though it was about to burst from his body. You made it so uncomfortable to just be in that moment. To avoid any emotional outbursts, he turned to his old friend. Humor. “Hold on, birdie. False alarm. Where’s all this fire coming from? You don’t gotta worry about me,” his hands lifted in defense to back down from your strong presence. He already wanted you to win this little plea that he didn’t even want to put up a fight.

There was a pain in the middle of your chest hearing such a statement. “Worry isn’t something you ask someone for,” you quip. The pain in your eyes was evident for the both of you. It forced him to look up at the ceiling with a small sigh. Maybe he was going to put up a little fight. “I don’t want to worry about you, but I do. I feel like I’m trapped here watching you get damn near assassinated on television every time you tell me you’re going out.”

“Wow, a little bit more faith in me?” He tried with you, a wide grin on his face but a raised brow. It was distasteful hearing you speak of him so illy despite caring for him. He slipped from underneath you to take off his jacket before popping it onto the coat rack directly by the door. “It’s the job,” he started calmly after kicking off his shoes. As he turned back to you, he gripped your hands to comfort you. “If you wanna touch me… hold me? Do so now because by the morning the chance will be taken away. Please just be mine tonight. I can’t try to think about it.” This wasn’t a Keigo you were used to seeing. In other sorts of conversation that went similar to this, he would cave in and give you soft kisses until you felt better. He was being defiant to the routine. Usually the small little bickering episodes you had were over silly little things, but heroism was something he cared about. He wasn’t going to let you have that so easily.

Hearing that made your face go blank. “I do have faith in you.” the atmospher around the two of you was stiff. You were insulted and he thought you were being irrational. There’s nothing that made your heart drop lower than what it did in that moment. “But don’t I get a say in this?” you could almost dig your own grave at how selfish you sounded. Keigo could pick up on it as well. His eyes went wide, meanwhile he sent you a scoff. Your emotions were clogging in your throat, making it hard to breathe as your vision began to cloud with the same scene that had been replaying before he stepped foot back into the apartment. “I,” you tried to speak before turning your back towards him as you let yourself pace along the wooden floorboards of the living room. “I can’t just see you come in and out of here with this heroic grin and not even once think about how one day the risk is going to be greater than the reward. This isn’t heroism. It’s a death wish.”

“No,” he whispered. “You don’t get a say.”

Keigo kept it simple, sending you a side eye with straight lips while walking to the bedroom you shared. In his mind you held value in many arguments but not this one. If you were picking up on his emotions correctly, he was pissed. With his feet carrying him to the bedroom, your feet did the same. This conversation wouldn’t be over until there was a resolve. The blond didn’t let you see it, but he rolled his eyes because he knew he was queued to continue speaking.

“What can I do about it now?” his posture slumped once he stepped into the room. His gloves were tossed onto the bed beside him before he turned to glare into your eyes. “You sit here and tell me what the fuck could I possibly do about it now.” it’s not as though he liked it. He spewed all the time that he wanted to live a simple life but there was nothing you or him could do about it. If he were able to be home with you, he would. You both knew that. This job that he’s been roped in was bigger than you or him. Scarred hands ran through his hair while he shuffled closer to you. “This is my job. I know you’re scared but I can’t quit. If I quit every time I see that look you’ve got on your precious face, we’d be getting nowhere with the villains.” His voice was hushed but sharp. “If I die, I’m not dying for myself, I'm not dying becuase I want to. I don’t want to die. I’m doing it for the day people can live easy lives. We can live an easy life one day.”

“You’re not doing this for me if it’s hurting me.”

“I’m doing this for you regardless of how you feel. I’ve been doing this before I even considered relationships. This isn’t something you can just change because you get a first hand glimpse of how real this shit is. If you’re uncomfortable with this lifestyle then maybe you should have considered being with a civilian.'' Keigo didn’t have an upset tone when he spoke with you. His voice was calm and his eyes were soft. Heavy fingers wrapped around your waist as he tried to give you a gentle smile. “This is what I signed up for.”

“No it isn’t,” your hands reached for his shoulders, running your thumbs into his collarbones.

“You can’t speak for me. You must’ve forgotten that I’ve been a poster child for this shit show. That doesn’t just change.” A chuckle left his lips but it was quickly stomped down by the bark of your voice.

“Keigo you were a baby!” You snapped. “A child…” you lingered, clearing your throat before stepping away. There was no way you wanted to belittle him but your words shrunk him. “You don’t even know how to live if it’s not for them. Do you?”

“I know how to handle myself.” His hands fell from you with a perplexed look in his eyes.

“You’re not as strong as you think you are, Keigo.”

“I know my strengths very well. I don’t need you to tell me what I do and don’t know about myself.” his gaze hardened while leaning in to look you directly into your eyes.

“Face it!” You begged prior to harshly running your fingers through his feathers, making him seethe. “You’re nothing without these! That fight with Endeavor and the Nomu replays in my head every chance it gets. Today only filled my mind with something different but it’s still the same thing! Without those feathers, you’re stuck to the ground flinging whatever the commission gives you as a weapon because you’re a weak puppet with a good mouth and you don’t see the problem with that.

“Watch it,” he growled.

“If you could handle it all, you wouldn’t need me— however you find me useful.”

“What are you talking about?” Keigo was growing tired of this conversation already.

“I wake up, go to work and come home. That is my life five days out of the week outside of the two off days I have to myself. But within all seven days of my life, those hours, minutes and seconds are spent with me stressed about the idea of you coming home,” you snap. “And when you do come home, you don’t want to talk about it. You don’t want to be vulnerable around me. You can’t use me as a safe haven if you’re wrecking the foundation!”

Keigo listened to you. He really did. He understood what you were saying but his brain was too filled with ego to allow you this moment. “I’m not begging you to stay,” he muttered, gripping your hands in his. “If I’m hurting you, I want you to find someone better. I love you but I don’t need you.” Ouch.

“You have no one else!” you shoved his hands away with a fierce look on your face. “I am the first and last person you talk to every day and you don’t have to blow smoke up my ass to make me stay! I do it because I love you.”

“I have been alone my whole life! I see thousands of people a day! I see people live and die every single day of my life! If you need to leave, do it.”

“Don’t tell me to leave you so you don’t have to deal with someone other than yourself,” you deafetedly trudged closer to him but his feet pulled him back.

“Back up, alright?”

“The only person who made you feel like you belong is telling you to find some fucking self awareness and you get defensive?”

“Alright, I’m done talking.” the hero dismissed you fully. As he turned from you, he made his way to the dresser to find clothes to lounge in.

“No, you don’t get to push me away when I’m telling you that I need you.”

“It’s been a long day baby. I’m tired. Either you can help me take this suit off and get some shut eye with me or cool off somewhere else.” he may be tired but it seemed as if you caught a second wind.

“Keigo!”

“Drop it! I’m not easing up on this.” His hand quickly rose in the air to cut the conversation. “The only way that would happen is if my wings were ripped from my fucking back and I pray to God that doesn’t happen to me.” his hands gripped the first drawer he pulled open, leaning down to rest his forehead onto the back of his hands. “I’m not asking you to understand. I wish I could spend more time with you. I’m sorry I make you worry and feel alone and that I can’t choose my off days. If you cannot handle being with me I need you to put yourself first and find someone that you can live an easy life with.”

“Maybe that is what’s best for me, but I’m not going to do that.”

“I love you. Just stick with me until after the war.”

“I’m tired of sticking with you when you’re not capable of sticking with me.”

There was silence in the room after your words. Keigo wouldn’t dare look at you and he could already sense the pained look on your face. He waited until you left the room to sink into a squat and collect himself.

[hoejosatoru]

In The Shadows

Pairing: Fem!reader x Vigilante!Draken

Summary: When a masked man saves y/n’s life, she insisted on patching up his wounds. Despite the danger, she finds herself drawn to him.

Word count: 11.6k I’m so sorry I got carried away

Warnings: threats of violence/assault (from side characters not drakes), guns, being slapped not for pleasure, probably inaccurate medical stuff, needles, stitches, lots of blood, tasting blood is mentions, kidnapping, oral fem and male receiving, fingering, cream pie, pet names, not proof read sorry

The only sound that filled your ears as you walked home were your footsteps and water droplets hitting the pavement. It passed through your mind that it must have rained while you were at work. Not that you had a second to notice. You barely had time to go to the bathroom, let alone play weather-watcher. You loved being a nurse, loved the fast-paced environment, how the hospital was like a living, breathing being and you a part of its lifeblood.  

It invigorated you and exhausted you. Some days more so the former and some more the latter. Today was absolutely a latter day. The ER was jam-packed, a never ending stream of complaints, pains, blood, injury, and fear. That was typical, as was losing patients. However, the loss of a patient today was weighing heavily on you. He was a young man, about your age, which you reckoned was fueling your obsessive thoughts. It was always strange to treat someone your age; it was like looking death in the face.

There was nothing you could have done, your coworkers told you and deep down you knew they were right. Still, you couldn’t help but turn over every step you took in your head, trying to figure out what you could have done differently to keep the patient alive. Had you not been so consumed by these thoughts, maybe you would have heard a second set of footsteps joining yours.

“If you scream, I’ll kill you,” a rough voice hissed in your ear, gloved hand covering your mouth from behind. You felt some sharp and cool press against your back and you knew immediately he had a knife pointed at you. You tried to wriggle away instinctually, but your assailant only gripped you tighter. “If you run, I’ll kill you too, bitch.”

Suddenly you were falling, shoved to the ground by two heavy hands. You flipped over frantically, finding a ragged looking man standing over you. He had an evil sneer and eyes that promised violence. Adrenaline flamed through your body, putting you into survival mode. You looked around desperately, hoping to see someone who could help or something you could use for a weapon. You instantly regretted taking a shortcut through an industrial area; it was devoid of anyone at this hour. There was a metal pipe about a half block away, but it might as well have been on the other side of the world. You were trapped.

“What do you want,” you croaked, hoping the 20s in your wallet would appease him.

The man crept over you, like a spider approaching his prey. You were caged in by his limbs, suffocating on the stale odor of his body. “You. And your money,” he replied.

“Please,” you begged, “Just take the money and let me go. I won’t call the police, please.” The second the words left your mouth you knew it was useless. This man was not driven by monetary gain, you could see, but by violence. He was getting off on your fear.

“Shut the fuck up,” he spat, pressed the blade to your neck, “Shut up and listen and I’ll let you live.” Your body went still; you knew more than anyone that a nick to your jugular could be game over. As the assailant started to fumble with his jeans, a sense of rage washed over you. This was not going to happen to you, not without a fight at least.

Your brain was working overtime, concocting a plan to wait until he pulled his dick out, when you assumed he would be most vulnerable, and kick him in the balls as hard as you could. Then run for your life. It was stupid and could very well get you killed. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered if this was some sick karmic justice for the patient that died. A life for a life. You couldn’t focus on that, though. Your full attention was on the man in front of you. You were bracing yourself as his pants unzipped, getting ready for the right moment.

Suddenly, the man was off of you. You couldn’t process what had happened, just that there was a weight, a darkness over you one second and now there was not. When your brain caught up to your eyes, you saw a second figure dressed all black with plain black cloth covering his face from the nose up. He had ripped the attacker off of and was now looming over him as he had you.

You scrambled to your feet, pressing yourself against the cool, damp brick wall. You watched the scene play out, hoping that if you flattened yourself enough they would forget you were there.

“The fuck is your pr-” your attacked was cut off by a swift kick from the man in black. He went reeling, crumbling with moans of pain.

The man in black turned his attention to you, “Are you okay?” No, but yes. You nodded, unable to push words through the veil of shock over you. Then, the attacker was up again, rushing towards the masked man. You pointed, possibly even said, “Watch out,” but it was too late. The attacker slashed the masked man across the bicep. He grumbled, a sound of annoyance, like when you found a mosquito on you, rather than one of pain.

He grabbed the assailant’s wrist, twisting it until a sickening snap filled the air. The assailant wailed, dropping the knife. The masked man kicked it far away, before giving the assailant a few kicks of his own. He begged for him to stop.

“Would you have stopped if she begged you to?” the masked man questioned venomously. You knew the answer to that. “If I ever see your fucking face again, I’ll do worse than this.” With a final punch, your attacker was out cold. The masked man picked him up with ease, tossing him into one of those green industrial garbage bins and slamming the top shut.

The man turned and looked at you, well you think he looked at you. His mask was a continuous piece of cloth with no eye holes. You weren’t sure how he saw at all, but clearly it wasn’t an issue. He approached you and you knew you ought to be scared of this man who was clearly very strong and not afraid of violence, but none of you felt afraid. He was nothing like the man currently taking a forced nap in the garbage.

“Are you alright?” he checked again. You nodded and he turned to leave.

“Wait!” you found your voice, “Your arm.”

The man shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the wound. Even though it was dark and he was wearing a black long sleeve, you could see it was bleeding a fair amount. “It’s nothing.”

“You need a hospital and stitches, most likely,” you replied.

“I can’t go to hospitals, they ask too many questions,” he dismissed you gruffly, “It’s a scratch, it will heal on its own.” He turned again, but you stepped in his path.

“Even if it was just a scratch, which it definitely is not, that knife is probably filthy,” you replied, “If you get an infection in your bloodstream, it’s game over. You really want that guy to be the reason you die?”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “I just can’t, okay?”

“Let me help you,” you insisted, “As a thank you. I’m a nurse.” You fished your hospital badge out from under your shirt, flashing at him as proof. “We don’t have to go to the hospital, just my apartment. I won’t ask any questions.” You’re not sure why you felt so compelled to help this man, but it felt like an absolute necessity. He may have saved your life, this was the least you could do. Plus, a selfish part of you knew if you went back to your apartment all alone after this incident you would probably have a full on panic attack. You desperately needed the distraction.

The man was silent, considering your offer. “It is dangerous.”

“No more dangerous than bloodborne pathogens.”

He sighed, caving to your demand. “Fine.” His one stipulation was that you could not walk there together, which you didn’t argue. You gave him instructions to your place and told him which window he should look for. You didn’t realize until you walked away that he meant to come up through the fire escape.

You hurried back to your place, wanting the safety of  your four walls. As you walked, the adrenaline wore off and you felt the full impact of having a near death - or at least near assault - experience. Your body was buzzing and felt heavy. You couldn’t quite catch your breath. Finally, though, you arrived, giving you some relief.

You dropped your bag by the door and kicked off your shoes. You went down the hall, collecting some towels and your first aid kit. You knew it would be best to do something like this in a bathroom, however your crappy little apartment had an even smaller, crappier bathroom. There would not be enough room for this man - who was rather large, over 6 feet you reckoned - yourself and your supplies. So, you spread out a big towel on the kitchen table (it doesn’t get used much anyways) and set out all the supplies you would need. It dawned on you then that he could just have used this to give you the slip and never intended to come.

That fear was quelled by a knock at your window. The man was crouched on your fire escape, mask still on. You told him he could come in. “You should really keep that locked,” he said as he slid inside.

“You can lecture me later,” you replied, patting the towel on your table, “Sit.” Wordlessly, he followed your command. He was a big, solid man, your table groaning under his weight. The black shirt he wore strained over his muscles. Who is this guy, you wondered.

You slipped on a pair of gloves. “Mind if I roll up your sleeve?”

“Go for it.” You carefully slide the sleeve up the length of his arm, as to not disturb the wound. Blood has dripped down his bicep, a very muscular bicep you noted, down to his elbow. Thankfully, though, the blood seemed to have stopped. You used a damp washcloth to gently remove the blood from his skin. This close to him, you could breathe in his scent. It was woody and smokey with a hint of motor oil and the metallic tang of blood. Oddly enough, it was not unpleasant.

“I have to thank you again for saving me,” you said as you washed away the blood, “If you didn’t get there when you did…” your voice trailed off thinking how badly it could have ended.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. You wanted to talk to him, learn about him, but he seemed guarded. You dropped the bloodied towel onto the floor, switched to some gauze soaked in saline. You worked your way closer to the wound area, gently cleansing it.

“Is this, like, a thing you do often?”

“No questions, remember?” his tone was a bit lighter. That was progress.

“Not a chatty guy?”

At that he smiled slightly. “Not really.” You prepped the medical needle, thread, and forceps. “Have you been a nurse for long?”

“Are you worried about my skills?” you mused.

“I thought you wanted to chat,” he replied. Touché.

“About 4 years. But don’t worry I could do stitches in my sleep,” you replied, “Might hurt a little, though.”

He just about laughed. “I think I’ll survive.” His voice was deep and strong, like a rich cup of black coffee. The more he spoke, you found yourself drinking it in. His jaw strong and square, his lips full.  There was something alluring about this man. A stupid thought. You didn’t even know what he looked like and yet your heart was skipping a beat. Focus idiot, you told yourself.

“By the way, how do you even see? Your mask looks like a blind fold,” talking took your mind off how he made you feel.

“You’re not good at the whole no questions thing,” he huffed, “but it’s a special fabric that functions like a one way mirror. I can see out but no one can see in.”

You got to work on the repetitive process of suturing. Needle in, needle out, knot, snip, repeat. If it hurt him at all, he didn’t show it. He didn’t so much as flinch. “You’re a good patient.”

“Not my first rodeo,” he replied.

“So you have been doing this awhile,” you caught.

He sighed, a deep, sweet sound, “Yeah I guess you could say that.”

“For fun?”

“For safety. Too many shitty people in this city and not enough people doing anything about it,” he replied.

“You could say that again,” you replied. The crime rates have been going up recently. It was unnerving.

“It’s not much, but it’s something. If I can help a few people it’s worth it.”

You finished up the final suture, almost sad knowing he would leave. “Well, as one of those people you saved, I really appreciate it. And you’re all done. I’m all out of lollipops, though.”

At that he laughed, “Worst news I’ve gotten in a while. But thank you, I appreciate it.” He paused, rolling his sleeve back down carefully. “Can I ask one more thing of you?”

“Of course,” you replied as you cleaned up.

“Please don’t tell anyone about this. I’m trying to… stay off the radar. The less people that know about me the better. Also,” he hesitated, “I don’t want you to be in any more danger. There are people who don’t exactly like me.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” you replied, “And if you ever have any other medical stuff you can come here. I’ll help you, limited questions asked.” He smiled softly in a way that told you he would most likely not take you up on that offer. It made your heart sink a little, but it was probably for the best. Inviting a strange man into your home probably wasn���t smart, even if he did seem nice.

“I imagine your name is off limits,” you said as he slid the window back open.

“I’m sorry, it’s for the best,” he replied, stepping back out into the cool night air. “Take care of yourself.” With that, the window shut and the masked man was gone.

***

You kept your promise, not telling a soul about the masked man. You started calling him Shadow in your head, for his fully black outfit and lack of distinguishing features showing. It was silly, but easier than ‘the masked man.’ In any event, you kept it to yourself. It was hard because the near assault rattled you, but you couldn’t tell anyone that it almost happened without telling them why it didn't happen.

Work was the perfect amount of busy following the ordeal. It was as if it knew you needed to keep your mind off things, though not so much that you would be overwhelmed. After about 2 weeks, you were certain you were not going to see Shadow again.

So you were very surprised when he appeared on your fire escape again. “I told you to keep this thing locked, any weirdo could get in,” he said by way of greeting as he slid through the window.

“Are you one of the weirdos in question?” you replied, hoping your voice didn’t give way how excited you were to see him. You were acutely aware, though, that you were in ratty old pjs. He couldn’t have picked a night where you wore the cute matching set you bought yourself last Christmas?

“Probably, given the circumstances,” he answered, groaning a little and he pushed the window back down.

“You’re hurt,” you stated the obvious. He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t, but it was odd for him to show it.

“I’m alright,” he waved away your concern, “I just got hit in the ribs pretty bad. I’m afraid I might have broken one. I wanted to know if you could tell.”

You pulled a chair out for him. “Well the only way to know for sure is to get an x-ray, but I’m guessing your no hospital policy hasn’t changed.”

“Correct.” You left him to sit while you dug out a stethoscope from your first aid bag. You slung it around your neck, going back to him.

“Can you lift your shirt for me, please?” He did as he was asked, revealing his torso to you. He was as muscular as he looked, almost annoyingly perfect. You ignored the little line of hair disappearing into his pants, focusing his side. His skin was an angry red, with the deep indigo of a bruise beginning to form. “Did you get kicked by a horse?”

Shadow shook his head, “Just an idiot with steel toe boots.”

You gently ran your hand over the area, pressing lightly at different spots. “Does any of this hurt?”

“I mean, it doesn’t feel great, but nothing too bad,” he replied.

You continued to prod, “Any trouble breathing? Or pain when you take deep breaths? Like a sharp, stabbing pain?”

“No and no. It feels sore, but I wouldn't say it’s a stabbing pain.” All good signs. You wanted to check with the stethoscope just to be as sure as you could. You pressed the cool medal to his ribs, instructing him to take deep breaths. You moved the stethoscope around, listening for the telltale sound of bone grating against bone, which would indicate a fracture. You never heard it.

“Well I can’t say for certain without an x-ray, but all signs point to not fractured,” you told him, “Some ice would probably be good, though.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that.” You fetched him a pack, gently pressing it to his side. His hands slid over yours to take over, making you blush. As you stepped back, a scar on his lower abdomen caught your eye.

“What happened there?” you asked.

A whisper of a smirk crossed his face, knowing the response he usually got to this. “I got stabbed when I was 15.”

“15? Jesus. You really have been at this awhile,” you replied.

“Yeah, I was sorta… in a gang when I was younger,” he stated, shifting in his seat. That shocked you more than the fact he got stabbed.

“You don’t seem like the gang type,” you replied.

He shook his head, “I know what you’re thinking, but we weren’t bad. Just a bunch of kids that like motorcycles really,” he paused, smiling fondly at a memory you couldn’t see, “We looked out for each other and the people we cared about. We weren’t into drugs or weapons or hurting innocent people. I actually got this scar going after the gang that hurt a friend’s girlfriend.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have judged,” you said, “You’re a good person.”

He let out a deep sigh, “I wouldn’t go that far. And I should get going, I’ve taken up enough of your time already.”

“Shadow, wait,” you called, not ready to let him go.

He turned to you with a teasing smile, “Shadow?”

Your face burned red and you huffed, “Well you wouldn’t tell me your name, I had to improvise. Don’t laugh!” But it was too late, he was already fully laughing.

“I like it, maybe I should make that hero name. Get myself a cape or something,” he teased you. You threw a towel at him, which only made him laugh harder. Even though it was at you, it was the sweetest sound you’ve heard in awhile. “You know,” he said, “you never even told me your name.” You actually hadn’t realized that.

“Y/n,” you told him.

“Y/n,” he repeated. Your heart caught in your chest. “You can call me Draken. It’s a nickname, but it’s what all my friends call me.” Friends.

“Does that mean we are friends, Draken?” His name was sweet in your mouth.

“We shouldn’t be,” he replied, “If you knew what was good for you, you’d stop letting me come here. If they were to ever find out, they’d go after you. They’d do anything to get information on me.” The concern in his voice unnerved you; Draken didn’t seem like a man who feared much.

“Who are they?”

“I really shouldn’t I- fuck, I don’t want you to be in the middle of all this shit. It’s dangerous,” Draken replied, “Now would be a good time to tell me you never wanna see me again.” It was supposed to be a joke but there was a pleading edge to it.

“Sorry, you’re not getting off that easy,” you told him firmly, “Shouldn’t I know about what could be a danger to me?” Draken conceded, telling you about an organization called Bonten. They were a front for drugs, weapons, and anything else unsavory you could imagine. Draken explained that he was on a mission to take them down, which, naturally, they didn’t like. They had a hit out on him. Mostly, he said, he goes after their streetmen, trying to get information on where their HQ is, or anything that would help him stop them. However, there are times where he steps in to stop unrelated crimes, like when he saved you.

“Shit, how come you’ve never gone to the police?” you asked. You never liked the idea of Draken going after bad guys, but knowing they were specifically going after made your stomach twist.

“They’ve got half the cops in this city on their payroll. If I walked in there with information on them, it’s likely I wouldn’t walk back out,” he explained, then added with a sly smile, “Plus the other half of cops don't like it when someone can do their job better than them.”

“That’s a lot for one person to worry about,” you replied. You wished you could touch him, squeeze his hand, but he was finally opening up. You were too scared to do something that would scare him away.

“Now you see why I don’t want to involve you in this,” he said.

“I think it is all the more reason for you to have someone to take care of your injuries. Promise me that you’ll continue to come if you need it.”

He hesitated, but finally stated, “I promise. But we have to be careful. Don’t tell anyone about this. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you got hurt.” You agreed, saying you wouldn’t tell a soul. Draken asked for your phone, which you gave over. “I’m putting in the number to my burner phone. If something happens or you’re in trouble, please call me.” He cracked a smile handing the phone back to you, “I made the contact name Shadow.”

You swipe the phone out of his hand, “I hate you.”

A sad smile flitted across his face. “I wish you did, it would be easier. Goodbye, y/n.”

“Goodbye, Draken.” The taste of his name made the goodbye less bitter.

Over the next few months, Draken would come in when needed. It was bittersweet, you loved being able to see him, but hated that if he showed up it meant he was hurt. The longer you went without seeing him, the more anxious you got. Once three weeks had passed without him coming by and you feared the worst. You kept conjuring up images of him bleeding out in an alleyway somewhere until he showed up at your fire escape. Luckily, none of his injuries were too serious. Mostly cleaning out and bandaging cuts, checking to make sure bruises were just bruises and broken bones. By some miracle, they never were. You only had to give him stitches one or two other times, but they were pretty small. From what you could tell, Draken was very good at what he did.

As he came, you were able to talk more and more. He was still very guarded, never lifting his mask, telling you his real name or any information that was too personal. Still, you got tidbits here and there and felt like you were getting to know him better. You cherished every scrap you were given, weaving them together to try to get a full picture of him. It frustrated you terribly that you didn’t know what he looked like, but you let your imagination run wild.

You had just gotten home from a friend’s dinner party when Draken was knocking on your window. It had been a little over a week since you last saw him, so it was hard to hide your excitement. You didn’t like to show how you felt around Draken, scared that he would run if he saw how invested you were in him.

“Hope I’m not disturbing you,” he said, looking you up and down. Well you think he did by the way his head moved, but you couldn’t be sure. You were glad you picked your favorite silky dress to go out in . Finally, you thought, he was seeing you in something other than sweats and scrubs. You were so vindicated you almost didn’t notice the blood dripping from his nose.

“Never,” you said, grabbing some tissues from the kitchen.

“You go on a date or something?” Draken asked. He tried to sound casual, but something was off in his voice.

You smirked, teasing him, “Yeah, with this guy who said he works for a company called Bonten. Ever heard of them?”

“Ha ha,” Draken replied dryly. “Guess it’s obvious why I’m here today.” He gestured to his nose. You gently dabbed at the blood, which had dripped down to his lips.

“Your split lip healed nicely,” you noted when you wiped all the blood off. There was only the faintest scar from where it had busted open a few weeks ago. You lost yourself for a moment, running your thumb along the plush of his lip. You blushed, feeling like you got caught doing something bad. You went to lower your hand, but Draken grabbed your wrist, putting your thumb against his lips and kissing it softly. “Draken…” you breathed.

“I’m not sure if my nose is broken,” he whispered in a way that said he wanted to say something else, but was scared to. Like he was silently urging you to understand a hidden meaning. He had stepped closer to you, his smokey, cedar scent making you dizzy.

“I-I can’t really see it with your mask on,” you replied softly. Your heart thudded in your ears as Draken wordlessly brought his hands to the back of his head, untying the fabric and letting it fall to the floor. You gasped, finally taking in the man before you. You were most surprised by the tattoo on the side of his head, but it suited him perfectly. His black hair was braided back, but two strands framed his strong, handsome face. The soft lavender bruise across his nose couldn’t even marr his beauty. His eyes were so dark you felt yourself getting lost in them already. “You’re so beautiful.”

Draken chuckled softly. “I’ve been wanting to say those exact words to you for a while now.” Then your face was cupped in his hands, his lips pressed to yours. Your head was spinning, feeling his lips against yours. He tasted good, even with a slight aftertaste of blood.

You pulled back breathless, “Wait your nose.” Draken pulled you back in, “Fuck my nose.” Well who were you to argue?

Draken’s hands slid up and down your body, rough and warm. You let your hands explore as well, loving being able to touch him for pleasure, not to patch him up. Draken backed you up so you were pressed against the wall. You loved how he towered over you. He put a thigh between your legs, pressing upwards. You let out a soft moan feeling his thigh come in contact with your clothed pussy.

“Gonna make pretty noises for me?” Draken cooed. He kissed down to your neck; you tilted back allowing him full access. The strap of your dress slipped off your shoulder as you ground against him. Draken took the opportunity to place a kiss on your shoulder. He pulled your dress down until your boobs were exposed, licking and sucking at your nipples, making you whine.

“Need you,” you gasped. You raked your fingers down his chest.

“Fuck, I don’t have a rubber,” Draken cursed, “But I got an idea that will test if my nose is broken too.” You gave him a confused look, which he returned with a sly smile. He dropped to his knees, the sight of him looking up at you making you flush. He kissed your ankle, your knee, all up your thigh, then ghosted over your underwear before repeating on the other side. You squirmed, aching for him.

“Don’t tease,” you pleaded breathlessly. Draken couldn’t deny you; he wanted you just as badly. He slid your underwear down your legs, a groan escaping his lips at the strings of arousal that went with it. Draken pulled your knee over his shoulder, looking up at you as he licked a striped up your pussy.

“So fucking sweet,” he murmured before fully diving in. Draken was not shy about eating you out at all. He pressed his face deep into the apex of your thighs, his nose nudging your clit. If it caused him any pain, he didn’t show it. He sucked at your clit, then let his tongue wriggle up inside you. You gaspeds, hands tangling in his hair. The braid had long since fallen, his raven locks flowing freely. Draken smirked to himself, feeling you roll your hips against him, greedy for more. “Go ahead baby, fuck my face.”

“Fuck, Draken,” you whined. His filthy words make your pussy clench. Draken - quite literally - ate it up. He loved how you responded to his words, his touch, his tongue. Within moments, your orgasm was upon you, pumping a rich bliss through your veins. You shuddered and moaned Drakens name as he gripped your thighs to keep you from toppling over. He let you ride out your high, savoring your taste on his tongue.

When you finished you sunk to your knees next to him. You gripped his face in your hands, pulling him in for a deep, sloppy kiss. You slid your hand down, running it along the bulge in his pants. Draken’s breath caught in his throat as you gave him a squeeze. You fumbled with the button on his pants until you were able to yank them down enough to slip his cock out from his boxers. Draken laid back, propped up on his forearms looking at you.

“You don’t - shit - you don’t have to, fuck-” he trailed off when you licked up the underside of him. He was long and thick, heavy in your hand. You wanted to taste him so bad.

“You were saying?” you teased. Draken didn’t protest, allowing you to wrap your lips around his head. You sucked at it, swirling your tongue over the slit, making Draken hiss. You let some spit drip down his length, giving some lubricant for your hand to slide up and down him. You bobbed your head up and down, allowing your hands to squeeze the parts you couldn’t. He was so big it made your jaw ache, but you didn’t mind.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” Draken moaned. You focused your mouth on the tip, which made his breath quicken. You loved the way his stomach clenched as you sucked at his tip. His hips twitched and a breathless moan filled the room as he came, filling your mouth. You swallowed the slick salty release eagerly.

You collapsed on his chest, both of you catching your breath. A silence settled over you that started comfortably, then stretched out a little too long. Draken, you noticed, was oddly stiff. A pit formed in your stomach.

“Draken do you… do you want to stay over?” you tried, hoping he’d enthusiastically agree and that you were being over sensitive for no reason.

“I… probably shouldn’t,” he replied uncomfortably.

“I wouldn’t make you sleep on the floor,” you tried to joke, but it died on your lips when you saw his face. Something was wrong. “What’s the matter?”

“This… I shouldn’t have,” he replied, voice strained. He saw your face fall and continued quickly, “It’s not you it’s - fuck I don’t wanna say that. I just -I don’t have a normal life. All this time we spend together, the closer we get, it all puts you more in danger.”

“I don’t care, I feel safe with you. We could make it work,” you pleaded. You felt desperate, like you were gripping onto sand that would inevitably slip through your fingers.

“You deserve better than what I can give you. I can’t even take you out on a date. If my identity got out to Bonten they would go after everyone I cared about to get to me. I can’t put you in that kind of danger.” You were both sitting up and Draken was pulling his pants back up. He was leaving, you realized, he hooked up with you and now he’s leaving you. A wave of anger burned through you.

“You couldn’t have fucking figured that out before we… did that?” you snapped, “Were you just trying to get in my pants this whole time?”

Draken looked at you, hurt. “I would have hoped you’d know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“But how could I?” you fired back, “You keep me in the dark about everything. Only ever come here when you need something. Then we have sex and suddenly it's too much?” Deep down you knew it wasn’t like that; you knew Draken was not using you. Yet your anger was in full control now.

“I’m sorry y/n. I fucked up, I know how bad it looks,” Draken replied. He sounded broken up. “I shouldn’t have let myself get carried away, it wasn’t right. I… I’m going to stop coming here. I think it’s for the best.”

Everything was crashing around you. You didn’t want him to see you cry, swallowing your tears as best you could.  All you could say was, “Go, then.” And then he was gone.

***

It had been a little over 2 months since you last saw Draken. You flipped between sad and angry. Mostly just sad, though. You missed him so bad it ached. You wanted to tell him how mad you were. You wanted to kiss him. Most of all, you wanted to know he was okay. Night time was always the hardest; you spent far too much time staring at your fire escape hoping he would appear. You wondered who, if anyone, was taking care of him now.

You never thought you would see him again, which was why him showing up covered in blood was so shocking. He opened the window, falling through with a heavy thump before you could even get up off the couch. You’ve never seen him look so bad.

“Fuck Draken what happened?” you rushed over to him. You saw that he was bleeding heavily from a wound in his leg, as well as one from the head. His mask was soaked, excess blood dripping down the side of his face.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I’m so sorry,” Draken mumbled, “Didn’t know where else to go.” The words came through huffed breaths.

Tears welled in your eyes. “Shh, it's okay Draken. You’re going to be okay. Just hold on for me.” You pushed your tears away and went into nurse-mode. You gathered up all the supplies you thought you would need. Draken was fading in and out of consciousness when you returned, mumbling sorry again when he saw you. “You can apologize later, just hold on for me.”

You cut through his pants, finding a gash that was the source of the bleeding. The blood was a deep maroon, not the bright red of an artery injury. You let out the tiniest sigh of relief. If his femoral artery had been nicked, he would be a dead man. Still, the wound did not look good. For a brief second you considered breaking the rules and calling the hospital, however you didn’t know how you would explain this without outing Draken. But if he died, that would be a big problem too. You decided then and there that come hell or high water, he is not dying.

You yanked the belt off his pants, using it as a make-shift tourniquet. You figured it would be too hard to get the wound above his heart, what with it being on his thigh. Instead, you jumped right into applying pressure. You used your left hand to reach up and peel off his mask, which was sticky with his blood. It revealed a cut above his eyebrow. It would need stitches, you assessed, but it wasn’t life threatening. Head wounds bleed like crazy; they’re almost never as bad as they look.

You used your need to hold pressure on his wound. Draken groaned, a welcome sound. It meant he was still conscious. Though you could tell he was fading. He was pale from the blood loss. You used your free hands to cut open his shirt and rip it away. Thankfully you were met with no other wounds. Well, visible ones anyways. He was scraped and bruised, but nothing that required immediate attention.

“Didn’t know you wanted my clothes off so bad,” Draken tried to joke. His breath was ragged, making your heart pinch.

“You did know that,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. His eyes fluttered. “Don’t you dare Draken.” But his lids didn’t open. He was still breathing and still had a pulse, so he was just passed out from the blood loss. You needed to work fast or this could be bad. You checked his wound and, thankfully, the bleeding had slowed.

You, being the neurotic planner you were, had a feeling something like this would happen when you started treating Draken. So, you filled an IV bag with your own blood. You won the genetic lottery and are the universal donor. It was a morbid thing to do, but right now you were glad you had. You fetched the bad from your fridge (hidden behind your favorite juice. Definitely morbid) and worked to hook Draken up. His veins were a little hard to find from the blood loss, but you got it soon enough.

You returned to his thigh wound, which had stopped bleeding. You nearly cried out with relief. You pulled on gloves, carefully inspecting it. It was a long gash, but not deep enough to cause permanent damage. You cleansed it until you were satisfied, checked to make sure it wasn’t still bleeding, then started stitching like a mad woman. You lost count of how many it took, but finally it was done. You moved to the cut on his face and repeated the process.

Draken was still knocked out, but his breath never faltered, which was the only thing that gave you comfort. You then began cleaning the blood off of his skin as gently and quickly as you could. You cleansed and bandaged some of the smaller cuts and scrapes. Then, you shifted your futon into a bed. You laid out an old bed sheet and then very carefully pulled Draken over. It was not easy, given his stature, but your experience handling patients larger than yourself helped. You put a pillow under his head and a few under his leg to prop it up. You’ve done all you could for him, now you just had to hope it was enough.

You worked on cleaning his blood up off your floor. It took a bit of work, but finally it didn’t look like someone nearly bled out in your living room. You bagged up his clothes and most of the towels you used. You weren’t even going to bother trying to get the blood out. You took the last clean towel you had and took the quickest shower possible to get all his blood off you.

When you came back out, he was still resting peacefully. You carefully crawled into the bed next to him, finally letting a few tears flow. You kissed his forehead gently and whispered to him, “Please be okay, Draken. Please.” You slept next to him - though it was less sleeping and more you carefully watching his chest to ensure it was still rising and falling.

At some point you must have dozed off, because the next time you opened your eyes there was sunlight streaming through your window. The soft, golden kind that told you it couldn’t be much past sunrise. You were between sleep and wake when Draken started shifting beside you. You practically sprung up, all traces of sleep gone.

“Y/n?” his voice was hoarse, but so welcomed.

You were nearly in tears. “I’m here Draken.” You looked over his body. It was beaten and bruised, but all the stitches held overnight. His color came back and his eyes had a spark to them. The vice of anxiety eased off your chest.

“What happened? What time is it?” his brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. He saw the IV hooked up to him and shot you a confused look. “How the…?”

“You were in really bad shape last night. I don’t know what happened before you came here, but I-I thought I was going to lose you for a few seconds,” your voice shook as you thought about his eyes fluttering shut. “It’s ab0ut 8am right now. And well… I gave you my blood.”

You expected Draken to be horrified, but to your surprise, he laughed. “And I haven’t even taken you out to dinner.” You laughed, brushing away the few tears that had welled in your eyes. You were so relieved to see him in good spirits. “Am I gonna live? With all appendages intact?”

“Yes, but only because you have the best nurse in the world,” you replied.

He smiled. “That I do.” He tried to sit up, groaning.

“But you should take it easy,” you said, trying to get him to lie back down. You compromised for being propped up on his elbows. You gave him a glass of water, which he downed quickly.

“Fuck that was good.” Draken looked down at himself, just in his boxers. “Wow you really want to get my close off, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up. They were covered in blood. I didn’t wanna stain my couch.”

He looked over at you, taking in the pillow and blankets beside him. “Did you sleep with me all night?”

Blush dusted your cheeks. “Yeah I-I didn’t wanna leave you. I was scared something was going to happen.”

Draken’s eyes darkened. “I’m so sorry y/n.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, I have a lot to be sorry for,” he replied, “Not just for showing up here and scaring the shit out of you. Though that was definitely not right of me after… everything.”

You shook your head. “I’m glad you did. Well, I mean I’m not glad that you were so hurt, but I am glad you thought to come here. I would never want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Still,” Draken sighed, “What I did that last time we were together was wrong. I never should have left you like that. It was so fucked up of me. I… I just care so much about you. I realized in that moment that I like you far more than I ever should have let myself and that scared me. Because if Bonten ever found out… I couldn’t forgive myself if you were hurt.”

Your heart pinched at Draken’s words. Though it stung for him to leave when he did, knowing he was so scared made you sad. You hated that he had to live like that. “I forgive you,” you replied, and meant it fully. “I know what you do must be really hard on you. You don’t deserve to feel that way.” You paused, debating if you should say what you were thinking. You decided to go for it. “For what it is worth, you are worth taking a risk for, Draken.”

Draken’s eyes softened in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “Does that mean I can take you out on a date?”

You smiled widely. “Yes, you absolutely can. After you’re healed though.”

“Suddenly I feel a lot better.”

You giggled. “You need at least a full day's rest. I won’t go out with you any sooner.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but deal,” Draken replied. “And I want you to know my real name is Ken.”

You groaned. “You’re telling me your real name was right in front of me this whole time? Disguised in a nickname?”

Draken - Ken - laughed at your indignation. “Guilty. But if it makes you feel better, the people closest to me call me Draken.” It did make you feel better; you liked the thought of being someone who was close to him.

You were able to convince Draken to spend another whole day resting at your place so you could monitor him (it really didn’t take more convincing). You made him breakfast, which he devoured. A good sign. He also took a shower and came out in a particularly low towel that made you squirm. You ran into a problem when you realized you trashed all his bloody, cut up clothes, meaning he had nothing to wear. Even your largest sweats looked so ridiculously small on him you both busted out laughing.

“You really don’t have to go get me clothes,” Draken said, who was now just standing in his boxers. You were trying, and failing, not to stare. You couldn’t believe someone could just… look like that.

“Well considering your only other option is walking home in your underwear, I think I do. Besides it’s just a few blocks away, it’s not a problem at all.” You could tell Draken felt bad but he didn’t argue. And it really wasn’t a big deal, you were back with proper fitting sweats in less than 30 minutes.

The two of you just hung out for the rest of the day. You enjoyed getting to know the real Draken, the man behind the mask. He was intelligent, funny, and really sweet, despite his hard exterior. As the hours passed, his color came back fully and his pain was diminishing. He was still a little achy, but all things considered, he was doing well. He ended up in your bed at night, you insisted even though he tried to say the couch was fine. He only agreed to sleep there if you slept there too, refusing to put you out of a bed in your own home.

Nothing happened between the two of you, though you felt like your bodies were alive with a current. You were so aware of him next to you, the weight of him on the mattress, his scent, the sound of his breath, it was like a magnetic force pulling you to him. You didn’t act on those impulses, though. It wasn;t just that you knew his body needed more rest, you were scared of pushing things too far again. Even though he said he wanted to take you on a date, you were still afraid he might change his mind.

Those fears, however, did not stop your unconscious mind from cuddling up to him in your sleep. You were thoroughly embarrassed when you woke up wrapped around him, apologizing profusely. Draken did not seem to mind one bit.

“Do I have medical clearance to take you on a date tomorrow?” Draken asked as he slipped his shoes back on. Your heart fluttered with excitement that he wanted to see you so soon.

“Hmm, I think that can be approved,” you replied. Blood volume usually is back to normal in about 48 hours, so he should be okay by then. You explained that it did take a few weeks for red blood cells to regenerate, so he should take it easy and stay hydrated. “Let me know if you feel dizzy or weak. You should be okay since you haven’t experienced that, but still call me right away if you do. And no strenuous… activities for a few more days.” You gave him a pointed look.

Draken put his hands up innocently. “I can leave the mask off for a few nights. I’ve got more important plans, anyways.” You couldn’t help but smile stupidly as you said goodbye.

The next night you were in your room trying to find an outfit to wear for tomorrow, when you heard a noise in your living room. Draken, you thought, hurrying out to see him.

You stopped dead in your tracks. The person standing in front of your open window was not Draken. Behind the fear that surged through your body you heard Draken scolding you for not locking the damn thing.

“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?” the pink-haired man said.

“What are you doing?” you asked stupidly. You body told you to run but you felt frozen in place.

“I think we have a mutual friend I’d like to discuss,” he replied nonchalantly. His cheeks were scarred, making his fake smile look more like a sneer.

“What do you-” Your eyes widened when you realized. This was a member of Bonten, you knew it your bones. Fuck. Finally, your body caught up to your mind. You sprinted back to your room, locking the door behind you. You heard this man sigh behind you, as if you had the nerve to run from someone who broke into your place.

You scrambled for your phone as he banged on the door. The whole frame shook and you knew the shitty old wood was not going to hold up. Your hands were shaking, making it difficult to click through to Draken’s number, but finally you did.

“Please pick up, please pick up,” you frantically whispered. You yelped as the door started to splinter.

You nearly wept tears of relief when you heard Draken’s voice. “Y/n? What’s up?”

“Please help me!” you cried. The door clattered to the ground, making you scream.

“Y/n? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

The man grabbed your ankles, pulling you away from the phone. “They have me! Please, help!” You were screaming and crying, unable to fight the fear. You could hear Draken replying, but the man stomped on your phone, cutting him off. Before you could even react, a sharp pain radiated through the back of your skull and the world went black.

***

The world came back to you in fuzzy blinks. The first thing you noticed was the dull ache in the back of your head, the second was that you were bound to something cold and hard.

“Sleeping beauty’s awake,” a voice announced. You looked up, funding three men staring at you, one was your capture and the other two were purple-haired strangers. They were dressed expensively, though you were in what looked like a run-down old warehouse. They were not exactly how you would picture gang members, but there was an air of menace about them despite their colorful dress. Especially the pink one.

“Finally, been sick of waiting around,” the pink one huffed. “You’re going to cooperate and answer our questions, y/n.” It unnerved you that he knew your name.

The one with short purple hair tsked. “Jesus, Sanzu, you’re scaring the poor girl.” He turned to you, a slick smile on his face. “Sorry for my friend, he’s not good with people. Especially not pretty girls.” Sanzu grumbled something under his breath, while the longer haired guy with glasses rolled his eyes. “I’m Ran, it’s nice to meet you.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. He spoke like you were meeting a new friend, not like you were being held hostage.

“Not very talkative, huh?” he asked with faux sincerity. “Going to need you to speak for me, angel. Got some questions for you.” Ran went to push hair out of your eyes, making your jerk back.

“Don’t touch me,” you spat.

He chuckled, unperturbed by your tone. “She speaks! Think she likes me better, Sanzu.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Would the two of you stop fucking playing around?” the longer-haired man interjected. “We don’t have all fucking day. The boss is waiting.”

Ran rolled his eyes. “My brother’s such a party pooper. But it’s true, we are kinda in a hurry. So I’ll get to the point: you know someone we are… very interested in meeting.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, keeping your voice as steady as possible.

“No?” He reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a photo of your apartment building. It was fuzzy, but you could see yourself in the window as Draken climbed in from the fire escape. Your pulse spiked. “See, I think I'm a nice guy, y/n. But I really hate being lied to. And so does my friend Sanzu, only his methods of interrogation are a little more… ruthless.” He paused, letting his words sink in. Your throat felt tight and your palms itched with anxious sweat. These men were not afraid to hurt you. “Now with that in mind, I want you to tell me how you know this man.”

You debated trying to lie, but it was clearly pointless. They had photo proof you knew him. You felt violated and sick that you have been watched for that long, but you couldn’t focus on that now. You formulated a response to get them off your back without revealing too much. “H-he… helped me one day. I was getting robbed and he stopped them.”

“Go on.”

Fuck you knew that wouldn’t be enough. “He got hurt and I offered to stitch him up for helping me. I’m a nurse. It was just a favor I-I don’t know him.”

“Hmm,” Ran considered your words, “And yet he went to your apartment on multiple occasions?”

Your stomach clenched with fear. They’ve been watching you for so long. “I-I offered to help if he needed. But I don’t know anything about him. He never showed me his face or told me his name,” the words tumbled out of you in a breathless mess.

“Am I supposed to believe that? All those late night stops at your place and never once told you his name? Showed you his face?” Ran questioned, his hand ran up and down your leg in a casual manner. “Don’t know how he could resist a pretty girl like you. I’m finding it hard myself, and we just met.”

You felt nauseous. “He never did, I swear,” you lied, “He was very secretive. He only ever stayed long enough to receive medical attention and that was it.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Sanzu jumped it, “Your methods are shit, Ran.” He shoved the purple-haired man aside. He crouched down to look in your face. “You’re fucking lying to us, I can tell.”

“I’m not I sw-” The crack of a hand across your face silenced you. You were stunned, cheek stinging and mouth filling with the metallic taste of blood. Ran gave you a ‘I told you so’ shrug.

“Do we look stupid or something?” Sanzu demanded. “You must know something about his identity.”

You would never give Draken up. Not just because it was wrong, but because you knew these men were going to kill you either way. You’d rather take his secret to the grave. “I don’t. I told you everything.”

Sanzu pulled a gun out and pointed it at you. You nearly screamed as you struggled useless against the rope that tied you. “Please don’t,” you cried. It was one thing to know these men wanted to harm you, but looking death in the face was something else entirely.

Ran and the third man didn’t even blink as Sanzu cocked the gun. He placed his finger on the trigger. He fucking smiled. “Last chance.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as tears streamed down your cheeks. You didn’t bother begging; you knew your words didn’t matter. You heard a loud bang, your body tensing as you braced for the pain… wait, why weren’t you in pain? You dared to open your eyes, finding Sanzu knocked out on the floor in front of you, a metal rod on the floor next to him. There was a flutter of movement around you, but you saw a familiar shape running towards you.

Draken.

He had another rod in his hand, which he was currently using to fight off the purple-haired men. Another gun was pulled out, followed by a loud BANG, but Draken dodged it. He lunged at Ran, the wielder of the gun, twisting it out of his hand with a loud snap.

“Fuck,” Ran groaned in pain. Draken snatched the gun off the ground and aimed it at Ran’s brother. He lifted his hands to indicate his surrender.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Draken yelled. When they didn’t move he fired the gun in the space between them, which set them off running. Draken was at your side in a blink of an eye. He kicked the gun out of Sanzu’s limp hand. He gave him a kick to the ribs for good measure, but he was out cold. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay,” you hiccupped. Tears still fell, these were one of relief. The second he untied your wrists, your arms flew around him, squeezing him tightly. He held you back, gripping you for dear life.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Draken soothed, “You’re safe with me.” Draken took you in his arms and ran. You tucked your face into his chest, breathing in his scent, absorbing his warmth. Your nerves were still a wreck, but you knew at that moment you were safe.

You weren’t sure how long Draken had been carrying you for when he came to a stop. When you looked up, you were at the back of a bike shop. “Are you okay to walk up the stairs?” Draken asked.

“I’m not hurt,” you confirmed. Draken set you down, but kept an arm around you as he led you up the stairs.

“This is my place,” Draken explained, “I want you here with me tonight if that’s okay.”

You nodded, not wanting to be anywhere else. “Thank you.”

Draken scowled. “You’re bleeding.”

Your hand went up to your mouth, feeling the wet blood from your lip. “It’s just a little cut, I’m okay.” Draken stepped to you, his hands replacing yours. He gently ran his finger along your lip, making you shiver. Anger burned in his eyes.

“Those fucking bastards hit you. I’m going to kill them.” You leaned into his gentle touch. You knew you should tell him not to, and eventually you probably would, but right now you could object to the thought of revenge on Sanzu.

“I just wanna be with you now,” you replied.

Draken kissed your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere now, I promise. Why don’t I get a shower going for you?” You nodded and followed him to the bathroom. He set the shower up, letting it get steamy. He placed a fresh towel on the rack. “I’ll be out in the living room if you need anything.”

“Wait!” The thought of Draken not being there, even for a second flooded your body with anxiety. “I… I don’t wanna be alone,” you admitted, not being able to look at him. If Draken thought the request was strange he didn’t show it.

You both stripped down and stepped inside the shower. You didn’t really look at Draken, not that you hadn’t seen him naked before, but you still felt like you were in a daze. Besides, it didn’t really feel sexual, even though you were both completely naked. It was a different kind of intimacy as you turned towards Draken and hugged him.

“I got you, y/n, you’re okay,” he cooed, rubbing your back. Between the heat of the water at your back and the warmth of his body pressed against your front, you slowly felt your body relax. You felt Draken’s hands in your hair and it wasn’t until your nose filled with the scent of spice that you realized he was washing your hair.

You were both silent as Draken cared for you. After your hair, he cleaned your body with a washcloth and soap. You loved that it was making you smell like him. Normally you feel a little embarrassed to be so bare in front of someone, but Draken puts you at ease. He did your face last, gingerly washing the blood off your lip.

“Never thought you’d be playing nurse,” you commented.

Draken gave you a soft smile. “Good thing I learned from the best.”

You stayed in the shower until the water got cold. Draken helped you out and you giggled as he tried to fit the one towel around the both of you. Eventually he gave up, wrapping it only around you and then scooping you up.

“Thank you, Ken,” you said softly, as he sent you down in his bed.

“You don't have to thank me. I should be apologizing.” You hated the hurt look in his eyes.

“Please, don’t. Can we just rest?” you pleaded.

Draken didn’t argue, letting you rest on your head on his chest. Under the security of his arms, your body succumbed to a deep sleep.

***

You stayed with Draken over the next few days, feeling at home almost immediately. You cooked and Draken cleaned the dishes. You showed Draken some of your favorite movies and he let you wear his sweats (but he laughed at how comically big they looked on you). You called out of work, citing a family emergency, which bought you some time to figure things out. Draken took one trip to your apartment to gather some stuff you needed, but besides that you stayed together the whole time. You didn’t speak much about what happened until 3 days later, when you were settling into bed for the night.

“Y/n, we need to talk about what happened,” Draken said sitting next to you. His weight dipped the bed, causing you to slide closer to him.

Anxiety fluttered in your stomach, fearing he was going to ask you to leave or tell you he couldn’t be with you. There was no point in pushing it off any longer. “Okay.”

“You didn’t let me apologize that night, but I have to. I am so incredibly sorry for putting you in danger,” Draken said.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You saved me,” you replied.

“But if it wasn’t for me you’d never be in that situation,” Draken responded, “You… you could have been killed. Because of me. I could never forgive myself if you were hurt because of me.” The pain in his voice made your heart ache. “I feel like you would have been better off if you never met me. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, Ken, don’t talk like that,” you replied, taking his face in your hand. “You have done nothing but save me. Do I need to remind you why we met? I don;t even want to think about what could have happened if you didn’t step in then.” You shivered at the memory. “And you saved me today. I know that being with you has… complications, but I don’t care.”

“You should,” he sighed.

“You’re right, I should, but I don’t,” you replied, “I already told you, you’re worth it. And I still believe that even after what I’ve been through. I am going to choose you, Ken. Every time I am going to choose you… But if you don’t want me, I won’t force myself on you.”

“Never,” Draken replied quickly, “I want you more than anything. I just want you to be safe. I’m going to do everything I can to keep you safe, I promise.”

“I know you will, Ken. And that’s why I’m not afraid to be with you, whatever the risk is.” A soft smile spread on his lips. “What?”

“I like when you call me Ken.” He pulled you into his lap. “We do this on one condition. You move in with me.”

“Are you holding me hostage now?” you teased.

He kissed your neck. “It’s not hostage if you want to be here.” He was right about that and there was nothing you wanted more.

“Consider me your new roommate then.” He kissed your jaw, making your pulse spike.

“I was hoping you’d be more than that,” he murmured against your skin.

Your body instinctively rolled into his as he gripped your hips. “And what were you hoping for, Ken?”

You didn’t miss the soft groan that escaped his lips. “That you’d be my girl.” My girl. You felt his words in your heart and your pussy.

“I’m yours.” His lips were on yours the second the words left your mouth. You were tangled up in each other instantly. You ran your fingers through his hair; it was out of the braid, which you loved. His hands trailed up and down your sides, before slipping under your shirt (well his shirt) and tossing it to the floor.

“So pretty,” he said before taking your nippled in his mouth. He palmed your other breast while he sucked on the other, making arousal pool between your thighs. You rocked against him, seeking relief.

Him playing with your tits was sending little jolts of pleasure down between your thighs, making you extra sensitive. “Ken,” you moaned, surprised that you felt on the edge already.

Suddenly you were flipped on your back, Draken over you. He reached behind himself and yanked his shirt off in one go. “Want you so bad angel,” he said, hooking his fingers into your underwear. “But I gotta prep you first.”

His fingers ran through your slick heat, making him groan. He pressed his finger into you, giving a few experimental curls. You wriggled beneath him, desperate for me. Draken obliged, pumping in and out of you. “So tight,” he noted, “Gonna need you to cum on my fingers before I can fuck you.”

“Please, wanna cum so bad,” you whined. Draken slipped another finger in you, watching how your pussy sucked his fingers in. The lewd sight made his cock ache. He pressed his thumb to your clit, needing you to cum so he could be inside you.

“Gonna make you cum, baby,” Draken replied, “Wanna hear you say my name.” His fingers pressed so deep inside you, farther than you’ve ever been able to reach. You could feel your arousal dripping out of you and coating his fingers. Draken leaned in, letting his tongue flick at your swollen clit.

“Fuck, Ken!” Your back arched off the bed and you came. The warm, wet feeling of his tongue on your pussy making your orgasm feel like fire in your veins. Draken smiled proudly at his work, then sucked your release off his fingers.

“Still so fucking sweet.” He stripped off his pants, allowing you to take in his naked form. You still couldn’t believe how good he looked. Not to mention how thick and hard and leaking he was and… fuck you were alreadying aching for him again.

“God you’re so fucking beautiful, Ken.”

He laughed. “No one’s ever called me beautiful. Are you just trying to get laid or something?” His arms were on either side of your head as he positioned himself above you. You felt caged in by him in the best way possible.

“I am definitely trying to get laid,” you kissed him, “But you’re definitely beautiful.” He let out another soft laugh and kissed you back.

“Tell me if I hurt you okay?” You nodded. Draken slowly pressed himself inside you, the size of him taking your breath away. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” His voice was gruff from the effort of not letting himself get lost in your tight, wet walls. He wanted to fuck you so bad, but knew he had to go slow with it.

His hips moved slowly, each stroke feeling sweeter. He was certainly the biggest man you’ve ever been with, but he knew what he was doing. “Feels so good Ken, loving having you inside me,” you assured him.

“Love being inside you,” he replied, pace quickening, “You feel like fucking heaven.” You gasped as his lower torso brushed against your sensitive clit. “Fuck, keep squeezing me like that and I’m not gonna last.” Despite his words, he showed no signs of slowing. The sound of his hips hitting yours and your slick wetness filled the room. It made you blush, but also filled you with an aching need.

“So close,” you gasped. Draken laced his fingers between yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“Let yourself go, angel, wanna feel your pussy cumming all over my cock.” His words worked magic over your body, sending you over the edge. Your mouth fell open as you cried his name in breathless ecstasy. “Fuck, so good. So fucking good.”

Seconds later you felt Draken’s cock twitching inside you, filling you with his release. You loved how warm and full it made you feel. You kissed up his neck as he slowed, letting you enjoy every last bit of it.

Finally he stopped, kissing you sweetly. “I think I might be in love with you,” Draken admitted. The vulnerability surprised you, but made you smile.

“I think I might love you, too.”

[dirtytransmasc]

Mama Neytrir au

Norm and the other scientists managed to get some information about Spider but instead of him being strapped into a machine(even though they do find that eventually) they find him outside with the other recons reluctantly trying to help them and he’s just yelling at them in terrible English, messing up words but somehow he still manages to yell and scream and make fun of them in both navi and English, while Quaritch is having a panic attack as he’s just like his mama. Imagine they get a video of that and show it to neytiri and jake of Spider bullying Quaritch, they would be so proud, worried, scared and upset but also very proud of him despite his terrible English.

I love the idea of spider sully having terrible english, cause if he's being raised as full-time as possible by the sully's (cause he has to go up to hellsgate to sleep). he knows that words, can put them together, but it just sounds very basic and almost too formal or textbook. he doesn't use many contractions, so his sentences are wordy, the words are foreign on his tongue so his inflection is off and his cadence is choppy.

so, when he is busy cursing the recoms out he sounds... interesting. so not only is he barely making any sense, he also sounds like an inarticulate toddler at the same time. he mixes na'vi and english words seemingly on accident, and all the recoms are staring at him like he's crazy.

and maybe he is, cause neytiri thinks he has a death wish, messing with his captors. jakes just proud, cause he has his baby boy back in, currently asleep back in their pod, so he just lets himself enjoy the show of his little human son, absolutely harrasing these full grown men. neytiri wants to beat with a stick, cause he could have been punished, could have been hurt, could have died, jake.

she is proud of how her sons glare makes quaritch nearly keel over, his brow furrowed and skin clammy. of how he turns all of their heads with his knowledge of a bow, the power he wields, how his arrows look so similar quaritch has a heart attack every time he catches a glimpse of them. spider seems to know it too, quickly acting more and more like her, weaponizing it to wrap his father around his little finger. but she would never admit that to jake, cause he would use it against her, but she does make it ever so clear to spider; she was so proud of her mini-me, even if she lectured him for putting himself at risk directly after.

I fully believe jake/neytiri raised spider would have whooped recom ass, but in the psychological eldritch horror way. he would totally make every waking moment they had hell. first off, he's scaring the shit out of them, constantly, whether he means to or not. secondly, he's being a massive asshole, cause they deserve it. thirdly, his attitude is out of this fucking world. he's more na'vi then human at that point to, which wracks all of the recoms brains, and they can barely understand him, cause again, his english is Terrible™️, which only makes their lives harder. he is also so much slower to even vaguely accept them, let alone befriend them, he only plays it to stay in the forest, and hopefully find his family. in the case that he does come around, maybe even has hope in some sort of redemption for then (which he would try much harder to push them into, like he is hardcore about them connecting with eywa, he nags them so much) he'd still be a little shit.

he makes his mama and his papa very proud of him, he was a strong little soldier out there, he never made anything easy, ever showed them fear or weakness, and never let them win. he fought with his all and played the long game, which is exactly what his parents would do, even if watching him do it made them want to puke (they're so proud of him, but would do anything to keep him from ever having to go through that to begin with)

[radioghosts-freakster]

R.ocksta.r C.ooki.e AUs

So all of my Rockieposting yesterday spawned some interesting ideas for aus, and I really like them a lot (even though I'm not sure if I'll do anything with them yet)! He's taken over both sides - might as well say the entire globe - of my brain by now and as a result, I was immediately compelled to write these basic outlines at 4 am when I couldn't sleep. Then I literally passed out after 😅

Anyway, since @kylars-princess was really interested in Cookie husband and Cookie pun shenanigans, I'll share this with you directly!! 😉✨️

Human AU - Rockstar is a human! He's still a musician and a rock legend, but he happens to be Java's neighbor in their apartment building. They often walk each other down to the main floor in the morning, and they slowly become friends this way. Eventually, they start hanging out at each other's apartments, and over time, they fall in love! Lots of lovey-dovey domestic fluff potential here!

Hell Rock AU - Rockstar is one of the first demons to be born in the pits of hell, and his job is to assess the morality of the humans on Earth! Too bad he actually hates his job - he has for a few millenia now. But that changes when he gets assigned to Java, a person who can see everyone's side of a story at a glance! As it turns out, Java is a rare half-angel, beings who rarely survive at birth, and also a powerful empath. They are completely unaware of their divine heritage, so Rockstar is ordered to steer them towards sin... but he enjoys watching over them, and they are very helpful when it comes to judging morals. A relationship blossoms between them both instead, and eventually Rockstar decides on a new goal - to play his own style of rock music for the world! (He uses his guitar as a channel for his fire powers and pyrotechnics btw!)

Crumblr AU - Rockstar is a selfshipper on the rather infamous blogging site, Crumblr.com! Lots of Cookies like to talk about their favorite characters while they wait in line, and one day, Rockstar overhears something interesting about a new gacha game. He gets curious, having never really played a gacha before, and downloads the game to his phone for long bus trips or plane flights. At first, he doesn't understand the appeal, but then he pulls Java - one of the absolute weakest characters with the lowest rarity. That doesn't mean anything, however, because before he knows it, Rockstar is absolutely in love with them! He creates a home for them, furnishes it, buys them clothes... Every power-up item gets used on them above all others, and somehow, against all known game logic, his Java becomes the strongest character in the entire game! Eager to show them off with pride, Rockstar finds a site called Crumblr and decides to dedicate an entire blog to his love for Java. He even plans a wedding event - which, unfortunately, is discovered by his fans. All of them are oblivious to selfshipping, so Cookiekind now believes that Earthbread's most eligible bachelor is tying the knot! What a mess!

* Java's name is just here as a placeholder right now, so that you know these are all some form of Javarock ship! I may give them a more au-applicable name later! ☺️✨️

Divider { 🦋 }

[arvensimp]

Whisper* horny, horny arven request?

Hello! I hope you like a pt 2?

Midnight Messquerade pt. 2

Arven x reader, no gendered pronouns used for reader, nsfw, ft. some underwear theft and wet dreams?

part 1 - part 3

--

Arven knows he's in deep. What started as a way to just get a restful night's sleep has quickly become a shameful habit on his part.

Every night after Arven is certain you've fallen asleep, he sneaks away from your shared camping site to...well, jack off. He makes absolutely certain he's alone, and the whole process doesn't take more than a few minutes. It's about convenience more than anything, or so he tells himself. He can't keep waking up with stupid hard-ons that don't go away, and he would rather die than ever risk exposing himself in such an inappropriate way to you. He owes you so much and cares so deeply for you that he absolutely will not risk the chance of scaring you off because of his stupid raging hormones.

You just....you make him stupid. He likes you so much he doesn't know what to do with himself. Quiet moments between the two of you are often spent with him trying not to ogle. He thinks about how cool you are, even when you're silly and sweet, how successful you seem to be at everything you try, how much love you show to the world around you. He spends time trying not to imagine what you would taste like in his mouth. How you would feel writhing beneath him, bouncing on his co--

He has to stop.

He puts more time into crafting tastier foods for you and his pokemon, then tells himself that it's only a secondary reward that you moan in delight when he makes something particularly tasty.

God, he wants to stuff so much more in your mou--

Stop.

So his only reprieve is the few minutes he gets to himself, where he wantonly tugs and squeezes his cock. It isn't hard to cum quickly when thoughts of you are at the forefront of his mind.

...That leads to today's present issue.

You two had been out and about adventuring when a massive rainstorm struck, and you ended up stuck in a cave for the remainder of the day.

You suggest that you both just camp out together in the cramped space, which...Don't get him wrong, Arven would love that. At the same time though, a more rational part of his brain is aware of his dire need for "personal time" before bed. The storm and the tiny space in the cave absolutely couldn't allow for it.

"I dunno... This cave is awfully small..." He attempts to argue.

"Even better that way," you reply. "Way less likely to have wild pokemon coming and bothering us in the middle of the night."

"True... But still... We could get a taxi out of here?"

You look out at the storm and then back to Arven with concern clear on your face. "I mean...we could, but I'd hate to make anyone drive or fly in this weather... But if you want to, we can."

Arven sighs and drags a hand through his hair, briefly exposing his usually hidden eye before his bangs fall back into place. "No...you're right. It'd be shitty to ask someone to drive in this."

So the two of you stick it out the rest of the night in the cave, cracking jokes at one another and playing games on your phones until you decide to wriggle into some pj's and turn in for the night.

He can go one night without cumming all over some poor undeserving weeds or a stump. He doesn't need it that badly. He doesn't.

He doesn't.

When all is said and done, the two of you are snuggled up in your respective sleeping bags, nearly pressed together, back to back, while the rain pounds endlessly outside. From time to time lightning flashes and thunder crashes loudly, nearly always at exactly the same time. The storm seems to be sitting over top of you.

The noise lulls you to sleep easily enough, but Arven waits up, antsy, anxious, bordering on angry at himself as he wills himself to fall asleep as simply as you do.

He thinks of all he can. Counting mareep, counting back from 100, counting his breaths, but all he can focus on is the fact that you're so close, practically pressed beside him. Instead of counting his own breaths, he finds himself syncing his with yours and counting as you breathe slowly, softly...

Until you aren't. You shuffle a bit, humming, and Arven stills. He has nothing to be guilty about. He wasn't doing anything wrong (this time).

Another hum gets caught on a glottal in your throat, and he feels you shift a bit again. The next sound you make opens your mouth into a soft, sighing groan. It's tantalizing to him.

It isn't inherently erotic in nature (is it?), but Arven goes stiff as a board behind you in more ways than one, anyway. He doesn't dare to say a thing. He won't breathe for the fear it might make a sound.

Eventually he's rewarded with more from you. You keep shifting slightly in your sleeping bag, making the tiniest little needy noises. Arven dares a moment during a particularly loud thunderclap that rocks the earth around you both and shifts, so he's facing you. Your back is still to him, but at least this way he can see the slight movements you make in the near pitch darkness, maybe hear you a bit better.

You squirm in your sleep, hunched forward a bit, pressing your hips back some. You're so...so close to where Arven is now... He could shift. He could be right there. Against you. Sure it'd be between two sleeping bags, but--

It's wrong no matter what.

Arven agonizes internally. He just... He wants to rub his dick against something so bad. He wants you so bad. And you're right there, writhing and making those little wanton noises like you're having some kind of naughty dream, and...

"A-Arven..."

It's soft as a prayer, but unmistakable even against the thrum of the rain. He hears it, and it's like a thunderbolt runs through his body.

He doesn't know when his hand had wrapped around his cock, but it's suddenly pulsing as ribbons of cum spurt from the tip into his pajama pants. He lurches forward without realizing, a sudden groan tearing from his throat as the last of his orgasm washes over him like filthy rain water. As he comes down from the high and his faculties return, he keeps careful watch over you.

Had... Had that really happened? Had you said his name in what sounded like...the throes of...an inappropriate dream? Had he destroyed the inside of his pajama pants? Most importantly, had you woken up?

From the sight and sound of your continued movements and gasps, the answers were yes, yes, yes, and (thank fuck) no.

Arven keeps a steady watch over you for the next several minutes, as your dream seems to ebb and flow, until the sticky mess in his pants finally forces him to squirm out of them and bundle them up in a ball at the bottom of his sleeping bag. He'll need to figure out a more...suitable solution in the morning.

By the time he's able to bring his full concentration back to you, it seems you've more or less found some semblance of peace. If you came in your sleep, you never showed it, because Arven watched you like a Pidgeot, even during his momentary distraction.

Not long after, Arven is able to drift off as well, dreaming of your softness, your warmth... It's comforting more than erotic this time.

When he wakes in the morning, you're already up and dressed, stretching outside the cave with your back turned to him, though not completely packed up, judging by the fact that your sleeping bag is still in a heap next to his.

Arven looks at your sleeping bag and notices...a bit of fabric there. In his sleep addled mind, he doesn't think, he just...grabs it.

There's a wet spot on his palm now from where he's grabbed your underwear, and when he realizes what he's done he recoils a bit, hating himself. He...he should really put these back, but they're already balled in his fist, and when he moves his hand to toss them back, you're turning around.

"Look who's awake!" You greet cheerfully, 'Raidon cozying up behind you with a satisfied chirr. He watches Arven with eyes that Arven doesn't particularly want looking at him right now.

"U-uh...yeah. Morning." Arven greets. The moment you turn back around, he'll toss these back. This is horrible of him. He absolutely shouldn't have these.

"Sorry I left my side a mess! I needed to get up and stretch as soon as I woke up and got dressed. Here, lemme get this, and then I'll give you your privacy." You say as you quickly approach the cave and pack your things back up with haste, not even realizing Arven's filthy theft.

"O-oh. You don't have to--" You're already turning away to give him the privacy he needs to get dressed. "Oh. Sure. No problem. I'll be ready in just a minute. Uh...While I'm getting ready, think about what you want for breakfast, kay? Whatever you want." As Arven gets dressed, he stuffs your underwear into his back pocket. He'll get them back to you. He just...needs to figure out when and how.

[notyourhetloki]

tell me what you want (NSFW)

Pronouns: none // gender neutral

/NSFW Kylo Ren x Reader/

A/N: sooo... I'm back (kinda). I've been struggling about my writing lately but my last Kylo imagine (this one) keeps getting notes so I decided to write a sequel! I hope yall enjoy ~

Warnings: reader is bottoming, Kylo is very straightforward and not gentle at all, mind fuck (literally), inappropriate use of the force.

—

On his way to the training quarters, Kylo realized he forgot about his helmet... but he couldn’t bring himself to give a damn.

You had seen his face before, but barely. Which proved to be a distraction.

You couldn't look away from him. His face, the way his hair moved around with his every move, his expressions when he glanced at you, his mouth…

Barely executing any attacks, you only halfway managed to deflect Kylos. And on the last strike, you let your lightsaber fall to the ground.

His own lightsaber then pointed at your neck, inches from skin. Anxiety now filling your chest.

"Pick it up" an unfiltered voice spoke. Deep and stern. With the lack of his helmet's modulator, his voice was so clear... it resonated through your body.

Slowly, you managed to move. Lowering yourself until your hands grazed the saber on the ground. Kylo kept his focus on you, maintaining eye contact and still following your neck with his lightsaber.

With one swift move, Kylo lifted his hand and, using the force, summoned your saber to him. Leaving you there kneeling and confused.

You stayed in position for what seemed like forever, just staring at Kylo and his dark eyes. The way he looked at you was... intense. But you weren't sure about his intentions. Maybe you were just crazy and desperate or-

"You look good like that..." almost a whisper, but audible in the now utmost silence of the room. Kylo had turned his saber off and looked at you up and down with what you could only describe as hungry eyes.

Your body shivered, heat forming in your core as you inhaled sharply. You weren't crazy. A thrill danced down your spine as you realized that. And Maker, how much you wanted this man.

He must have sensed your excitement, for now, his face displayed a smug half-smile. Yeah, you wanted him, but sometimes wanted to punch the man in the gut for always looking into your thoughts like that.

"Say that again?" he ordered mocking, in a way. His face full of delight... he enjoyed himself too much. 

"What do you want, Kylo?" you were irritated but turned mad when your question was met with silence and a stare. Ok, two could play the same game.

With all the concentration and force you could gather, you managed to look inside Kylo's mind. And what you found was... not really any resistance. 

"Tell me what you want... master." you insisted, voice inside his brain now. Maybe a bit too bold, but you couldn't resist using that last word. It sounded so right, so deliciously defiant, and you knew Kylo could appreciate that.

But nothing could have prepared you for his response.

Kylo took a fistful of your hair, hard enough to hurt. Then lowered himself to talk into your ear, but didn't. The voice came from inside your head.

"I want to take you and absolutely ruin you. Make you into a mewling pathetic mess. You’ll cry my name while I claim your body and in the end, you’ll be mine. Mine..." his voice was full of you could almost mistake as rage, his desire so intense and mad it sent a cold sweat through you.

You closed your eyes at that, emotions too overwhelming to bare. That only proved to be worse. His voice now came accompanied by visuals.

 In a bed, naked, the both of you laid. Kylo kissed you with hungry urgency, teeth nipping at your lower lip while one of his hands tugged at your hair, making you hum in anticipation.

Then, with a pull on your hips, you were spun around with your back facing him. Hands gripping the sheets as his long fingers grazed at your skin, down your spine...

You felt every single thing like it was actually happening, felt the way his skin ran through yours, his sweat and his tongue and lips and...

Suddenly you felt the tip of his cock grazing your entrance, slowly penetrating you at first but then rapidly gaining momentum as your walls deliciously stretched.

Maker, he was fucking you. Harsh and deep and full of need. His cock hitting a sweet little spot with every thrust, and you were a mess. 

He felt so big as he pinned you against the mattress, dominating you with his body.

Kylo was tugging at your hair while growling with pleasure. A sound so deep it sent you shivers and ached at your core. "So tight and horny for me, such a slut."

You felt out of this plane, out of your mind. All you could do was cry and shout Kylo's name. Dumb with the feeling of him around and inside you.

With a loud exhale, Kylo grunted softly "You're mine..." voice coarse with pleasure, he sank his teeth into your neck, starved and urgent. Oh, it felt so good, the pain and the pleasure mixing into pure bliss, you almost couldn't take it anymore. "I-I'm... I'm gonna..."

Before you could finish, the image was gone. Kylo shoved you by the hair onto the floor, both of you flushed red and sweating.

Panting, you were reminded it wasn't real... the bastard didn't even let you finish. And now you were on the floor, shocked.

Kylo could hide his hitched breath, but couldn't hide the redness on his face... maybe he didn't mean to show that much.

"Meet me at my quarters after dinner. We got many things to discuss..." Kylo stormed out of the room, face blushing and sweat coming down his temples.

You were left dumbfounded, a bit humiliated, and really horny. Did he fantasize about all of that before? Since when? How many fantasies did he have? Did he think about you often?

Yeah, you're sure you'd get all the answers soon enough.

[distort-opia]

For the director's cut,

I am SOSOSOSOSO curious to see how you'll continue Burn It To Ashes. Do you have anything you'd like to talk about for that fic? I particularly love the part in the fic where Joker seems to flip from being playful and deliberately trying to rile Batman up (being insufferable) to obedient (for a lack of a better term) and willing to keep his impulses in check. I kept expecting Joker to inevitably try to break one of the "rules" Batman set, or at least pushing a boundary/ toeing the line (Just like Batman also expects him to!). But he doesn't! I love how you strictly only show Bruce's thoughts and we don't know what Joker's thinking, leaving the reader to speculate on why Joker's acting this way. I found myself asking many of the same questions Batman was. Is Batman right and is Joker just biding his time? Does Joker secretly enjoy being degraded, or is it just because Batman's doing it? Is allowing Bruce the control another way of Joker toying with Batman, meaning Joker's the one "winning" while Batman thinks he is? I love how Batman convinces himself throughout most of the fic that he's enjoying the experience because Joker isn't (punishment), contrasted by his later obvious excitement at discovering that instead Joker's thouroughly enjoying himself. It's so similar to me to their dynamic in general, where Batman can never really "win" against Joker because Joker always spins it in a way that it means he's won. I don't think Batman would've actually enjoyed it if Joker had seemed turned off and only merely allowed Batman to do what he did.

Would love to hear some of your thoughts!

I'm really happy you like burn it to ashes! Aaa, so nice to get an in-depth ask like this with great reflections, thank you. To be honest, that fic is pretty much a consequence of Silvestri's portrayal of Bruce being a shade darker than usual, with the not-so-subtle need for domination on display. Which all Bruces have, but this one spit in Joker's face and put him in a gimp mask and then in a skintight suit he designed and then did whatever the hell "Come and get it" was... It lit my brain up like a Christmas tree, hah.

As to the questions on Joker's state of mind: yes, is the answer to most of that...? Though Joker would probably kill anyone else trying something like what Bruce did in two seconds flat. Batman has the capacity to dominate and degrade him because Joker thinks he's an equal and worthy of it. But thing is, they're both losing and winning at the same time. It's a zero sum game, despite Joker being much better at spinning it in his favor. Joker is allowing for Bruce to dominate him that way because it's Batman doing it, but he's still conflicted; he's enjoying himself and Bruce can't stop him from liking what's happening, but that doesn't mean Joker doesn't dislike his weakness being used as dangled bait to make him behave and play by Batman's rules. Neither of them are free, they're inescapably under the influence of the other, and thus will always feel a degree of hatred towards the other for it. And Bruce is banking on Joker's resentment in making it a punishment because he hates Joker's guts... but at the same time he enjoys that Joker enjoys everything he does. Because it means he's in possession of someone he can do whatever he wants to, but still won't ever leave. It's a contradictory thing; Bruce's sadism and genuine anger at all the things Joker's done drive him to make Joker suffer, but at the same he'll always be relieved that Joker isn't actually suffering, because then maybe Joker would stop being unconditionally devoted to him. So yes absolutely, I agree that Bruce wouldn't have fully enjoyed it if Joker didn't like it too.

As a sneak peek, I'll say that the continuation will be a separate work. Gonna have to make this baby a series. Because in issue #4 of Deadly Duo, Joker disobeys, doesn't he? Bruce told him not to kill people, and yet Joker threw those passengers off the train. So the next work will take place in issue #4 and be centred around Bruce enforcing... consequences of the horny kind.

fanfic writer ask game - director's commentary