#you don’t have to show anybody! when you’re done you can throw it away rip it up burn it scribble it out who cares!

[keekity]

Hi, just popping in to share these doodles I’ve been doing lately when I need to quiet my mind :)

[mrs-march-ahs]

Kai Impregnating You As a Punishment

Summary- When Kai finds out you’re planning to avoid pregnancy behind his back, he acts immediately to make sure his plan for a new and better future isn’t ruined.

Warnings- Dub-con (I think), breeding/impregnating, car sex, unprotected sex, sexual punishment, daddy kink, arousal from crying, Kai Anderson. Words- 1.6k

This was a left over idea from Kai Week that I had planned based on a request, and I wanted to do it! Returning to car sex, fun! :D

Enjoy<3

--

“What is it Y/N?”, Kai forcefully asks.

“No honestly nothing”. You try your best to lie, but Kai always knew when you were nervous or worried. He also knew when you were keeping secrets from him, which is why right now you were completely screwed. Kai often looks through your belongings and does regular pinky power meetings to ensure that he knows absolutely everything about you. You know how some people say a little mystery is good in a relationship? He was certainly not one of those people.

With you now moved into Kai’s parent’s house with him and Winter, there is no place for you to hide your belongings. Not that you need to, usually. But sometimes when you get him a gift or have something to hide temporarily, you put it in your car, knowing he wont think to search it. But what you were hiding was no gift, but a stab in the chest.

He started being suspicious right away, when he walked past your car to get to his and your heart started pounding. He must’ve heard your heart almost escaping your chest and he instantly knew there was a reason you’d prefer to drive in his car instead of yours.

Kai sits in the passenger seat of your car, letting you drive for once, and stares at you as you start up the car, pretending nothing’s happening.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

You look at Kai and shake your head timidly, but try to look and sound confident.

“No honestly I’m not hiding anything”

You mentally slap yourself the second those words come out of your mouth, revealing drips of information to Kai, knowing he’ll keep going after the truth no matter the cost. You look in front of you and put your foot on the acceleration for just a second, before Kai snaps at you to stop.

“Stop. Get in the back”. He unbuckles his seatbelt and puts his foot to the side, ready to climb in the back, but stops when he looks at you frozen.

“Kai’s there’s nothin-”

“Now Y/N”, he yells, making you flinch, and hops into the back middle seat. You quickly unbuckle your own seatbelt and follow him, wanting to sit by his side but instead being immediately bend in half over his lap. Kai grabs your face forcefully.

“Since you’re having so much trouble being honest with me”. Kai pulls your jaw down.

“I’ll help you spit it out”. With that warning said, Kai shoves two fingers deep in your mouth, making your lips wrap around the cold metal ring on his middle finger. After one quick thrust to the back of your throat, he takes his fingers out when you gag and keeps them on your chin.

“Are we gonna speak yet?”. You take a few deep breaths, taken back by his sudden, and new, actions.

“Kai everything’s fi-”

Not even letting you finish your words, he plunges his fingers back in your mouth, or throat, rather, and keeps them there for a few seconds. Your eyes begin to water as you accept your fate, knowing that Kai has a thousand different ways to get things out of you, and you must accept whatever punishment you get for making decisions behind his back.

“When I take my fingers out, you’re gonna tell me”. You cry out in response and he pulls his fingers out, holding your face and twisting it to look at him. He raises his eyebrow at you, making you speak.

“Glove compartment”, you manage to choke out, still slightly shaken from the brutal throat invasion. Kai pushes you off his lap, making you squish on the floor of the car, not daring to get up on the seat if Kai doesn’t want it. He stands up and leans towards the front of the car, opening the glove compartment and shoving out all documents in there onto the floor and seat, without a single care in the world. He rummages through your things, noticing your driving license and car documents, nothing too suspicious, before looking at a small green pharmacy prescription. He takes it and plops back down in the middle seat, reading it closely. Your stomach churns and your previous tears return as you’re torn between looking away from Kai, scared to make eye contact, and not wanting to peel your eyes off him to know his reaction. After a few seconds of angry reading, he rips the paper up and throws it around like confetti. Without even an angry word, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up on the back seats, laying you down. He climbs over you, and watches your tears fall closely, completely captivated and aroused at the sight of you in distress.

“Oh, so you don’t want to get pregnant?”, he barks in your face, enjoying the way you flinch every time. “You don’t want to make a Messiah? And contribute to the fucking cause? You want to be useless?!”, he yells. You’re left under him, whimpering at his harsh words and shaking your head manically, hoping to make your situation better in any way you can. Even if it meant you had to agree with him.

Kai clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath before speaking again, calmer this time.

“Have you taken any contraceptives yet?”. You immediately shake your head no, and try to blink all of your tears away. Kai whips his belt open and unzips his pants.

“I just got a prescription to buy them… I hadn’t even got them yet”, you whimper out quietly, not sure whether more details will make him calmer or even angrier. He lowers his pants before grabbing your legs and pulling you closer to him, and undoing yours silently and ripping them off. Crying always awoke something inside of Kai, but this was different, like a mixture of a punishment for you and a treat for him.

He leaned down and moved your head to the side, attaching himself to your neck and sucking on it harshly. Although the rough side of Kai scared you beyond words, his tough love still made you feel special, and him sucking hickeys on your neck, no matter how unaffectionately, made you feel like he was marking you as his. Therefore, he must’ve cared about you, even if he chose to show it in an unusual way.

He puts his arms on either side of your head, towering over you, making you feel both intimidated and protected by him, before sliding your underwear to the side. He pushes himself against your crotch and groans in your neck.

“This… this is really special”. He groans, as he lines up with you, putting his tip inside of you without warning.

“Daddy’s never done this with anybody”. A rush of arousal runs through your body as a strong reaction to the new nickname. Kai wasn’t new to nicknames, Sir, Divine Ruler, even Master. But he never called himself daddy, and he could feel the affect it had on you immediately, as he slid in you with ease. Although he pushes in slowly, the charade of softness and love quickly fades away as he slithers his cold hand under your shirt and grabs your boob, kneading it and squeezing it in his hand.

You gasp at the action, making Kai smile and kiss you, just once. He continues to talk to you with his lewd words as he begins to thrust. You submit yourself completely to him, wrapping your legs around his waist, and your arms around his chest, bringing him as close as possible to you so you can feel his warmth. He gracefully accepts your invite and puts his chest to yours, still with a tight grasp on your boob, rubbing your nipple with his thumb.

“Daddy’s gonna massage them so much when they’re all full of milk”, he whispers in your ear. You open your eyes and look at Kai with a blank expression, expecting an explanation to the weird statement, but he doesn’t provide one. Instead, he looks at you with a smirk and speeds up, keeping up the pace of the thrust and the roughness of his touch on you equal. Involuntarily you gulp, accepting the very appropriate punishment.

“God, I haven’t masturbated in- oh fuck… - in days… this is perfect”, he speeds up his thrusts, and closes his eyes, no longer caring about watching you tear up or orgasm. His sole focus shifts to fucking you as deep as possible, and ensuring he can empty as much of his balls as possible, filling you up to the brim. To guarantee your Messiah.

The new pace makes you clench, and panting and gasping as he fucks you restlessly, going deeper than ever before. He pulls your legs up higher and folds you in half, so he can fit his whole cock in, hitting your cervix with every single thrust. Just as the grip on your legs gets tighter and his moans get louder, you’re overcome with pleasure, your first orgasm coming over you and completely distracting you from how uncomfortable of a position you are in. The feeling of you clenching and cumming around him brings Kai over the edge, settling in the first load of the night deep inside of you.

Kai groans as he cums and rests with his cock deep in you, and you wrap your arms back around him and try to pull him closer for a quick kiss before he pulls out. But instead, after a few stationary seconds, he puts his leg on the ground and thrusts again, at a different angle. You whimper at the sensitivity and as does Kai, but he doesn’t hault and instead looks down at you cockily.

“I hope you’re not tired yet, there’s many more where that came from”

--

taglist, dm or comment to be added or taken away, it’s no issue to me:)

@milly-louise  @amourtentiaa  @kitwalker02  @tatestripedsweater  @therenlover  @maria-akira         @tatesimper  @thxc0untessesgl0ve  @mossybank  @ahsxual  @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess  @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan  @kitwalkerangel  @kitisagoldenretrieverboy @darlingkitt  @blackbat2020  @elaineygrace  @kaiandersonskoolaid  @undeadcortez @whiiiiplaaaaash

[sweeterthanthis]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

Summary: When Ransom takes you to the most expensive restaurant in Boston, he's not prepared to go without what he thinks he's owed. Even if you don't want to give it to him.

Warnings: NONCON, sexual violence, heavy knife play, mild blood play, humiliation, vaginal penetration, anal, anal creampie, forced orgasm, 18+.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This is very dark. Please take the warnings seriously and scroll on by if it's not your cup of tea. I am not responsible for your media consumption. Thank you so much to @cockslut-padalecki for beta'ing this for me. I appreciate and love you! And big thanks to @msmarvelwrites and @river-soul for pre-reading and all your encouragement throughout. You're both incredible 🖤

‘How did I get myself into this mess?’

That thought had entered your mind a thousand times, from the second he insisted on ordering your drink for you. You don't even like red wine. But he  insisted. Just like he insisted on ordering you the salmon. Insisted on paying the bill. Insisted on sharing a cab home. Insisted on walking you to your doorstep. You didn't notice him wave the cab off into the night, and if you had, you’d have run inside as fast as your feet could carry you. 

You’ve been locked away in the bathroom for god knows how long, working your way through a panic, and desperately trying to figure out a way to get him out of here. Out of your house, and out of your life. 

Sure, Ransom is  gorgeous. When he’d first walked into the restaurant - twenty minutes late, of course - you were practically squirming in your seat. Bright, ocean blue eyes, chestnut hair perfectly coiffed and not a strand out of place, cheekbones that could cut glass. The man was a delight for the eyes, but it didn’t take you long to figure out that he was anything but sweet. 

He’s condescending, arrogant, spiteful, clearly spoiled rotten - and in a nutshell, the total opposite of anything you’re looking for in a potential romantic partner. You had considered, just for a moment, inviting him into your bed for the night. A one and done kind of thing. Just to test out that admittedly impressive physique. But the second he cupped the waitresses ass right in front of you, you knew that wasn’t going to happen either. 

“You’ve been in there an awfully long time, sweetheart.” His voice is muffled by the wood, the door handle jimmying as he tries to twist it free of the catch in the lock. Your hands are shaking, purse strewn across the couch, your cell phone completely out of reach. “C’mon, what are you doing in there? Didn’t even offer me a drink before you hid yourself away. Not a very good hostess, are you?” 

You clench your jaw, teeth gritted together as you ball your hands into fists; trying to rid yourself of the unbridled rage threatening to claw its way out. Nothing good will come of you losing it. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you let out a shaky breath - trying to find some semblance of calm amongst the chaos. 

“I-” your voice shaky, you grip the edge of the sink to ground yourself. “I would like you to leave. I’m not feeling well. Must have been something I ate. Maybe the salmon?” 

Silence falls upon you, and you release a breath you don’t  realise  you’ve been holding when you hear your front door slam shut a few moments later. Guess you were right about one thing. He really was an asshole. Sure, you aren’t  sick - but he doesn’t know that. He hadn’t  even bothered to ask you if you were okay, just upped and left. 

You splash some cool water on your face, brush the taste of bitter red wine from your teeth and tongue, and remove your makeup. You can’t help but huff a laugh at the thought of telling the girls at work just how fucking atrocious your date was. At least you have a funny story to tell. You’d be laughing about it soon enough, right? 

Making your way out of the bathroom, you pull the cord and turn off the light; locking the front door and hanging your keys up on the hook. You stifle a yawn as you make your way upstairs to your bedroom, pulling a sleep shirt from your dresser and tossing it onto the bed. 

You spy your reflection in the mirror, furrowing your brow and muttering to yourself, “Wasted yet another gorgeous dress on yet another asshole.” 

Reaching awkwardly to unzip yourself, you shrug out of the dress and throw it into the laundry hamper at the end of your bed. You’re about to shuffle out of your lacy panties when your eyes land on the contents of your makeup bag strewn across the floor, and your heart misses a beat because you could have sworn it was on your dressing table when you left. 

You look to the window to see if the heavy breeze knocked it over, but it’s closed; just like you know it would be. You shake your head from side to side, trying to rid yourself of all the silly thoughts flooding your brain. 

“Swear I’m going fucking crazy sometimes.” 

You sink to your knees with little to no grace, reaching for your mascara and your lipsticks, throwing them back into your cosmetic bag. You can’t shake the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Something’s not right. You still your movements, sucking in a breath through your nostrils as you look around the room. 

Your heart stops in your chest, breath hitching in your throat when you see it. 

A camel coloured, woollen coat that you’d recognise anywhere, draped across the arm of the chaise lounge in the corner of your bedroom; and you freeze. 

You can’t move a muscle, tears pricking at your eyes. The realisation dawns on you, as if someone dumps a bucket of ice water on your head. 

He’s still here. 

“Anybody ever tell you you’re way too trusting?” His voice startles you, your body turning to face the doorway; Ransom’s large shadow illuminated by the light from the hall. His lecherous eyes wander over your body as you try to cover your modesty, standing on wobbly knees and reaching for the sleep shirt on your bed. “Oh, I wouldn’t bother with that if I were you. You won’t be needing it tonight.” 

“Yo-you need to leave,” you stutter, holding the shirt tight against your chest, your knuckles white from gripping the thin cotton material. Your gut twists when he smirks at you, one hand behind his back and the other resting on his hip. You find your voice again, a little sterner this time. “I don’t want you here. Leave or I’ll call the cops.” 

Ransom takes a stride forward as you take furtive little steps backwards, back digging into the dresser behind you. He cocks his head to the side, eyeing you from head to toe, and then back again. 

“Little lamb cornered by the wolf, huh? What did you expect, princess? I wined and dined your stubborn ass at the most expensive restaurant in Boston, and you think I’m gonna let you decide when the night’s over?” 

You’re shaking, teeth chattering together in fright as he looms closer to you; his body a few feet from yours, crystal blue eyes burning with an intensity that chills you to the bone. He reaches for the shirt in your grasp swiftly, ripping it from your fingers and throwing it back over his shoulder - your hands the only thing left to protect your modesty. 

“C’mon. Playing hard to get isn’t cute on you. Show me what I paid for.” 

Your eyes flit from left to right, brain whirring as you try to figure out a way to escape him. There’s no doubt in your mind what he intends to do to you, and the mere thought of it causes bile to rise and burn in your throat. 

“Go on. Try it,” he mocks, sensing your flight response rising to the surface. “Run. See how far you get. Maybe you’ll get a kick out of it. I knew you were into some kinky shit. Took it upon myself to have a little look-see through your bedside cabinet.” 

Heat rises in your cheeks as shame engulfs you, the thought of him prying into your collection of vibrators and toys making your nose scrunch up in disgust. The last thing you could ever want is for him to put his hands on you. 

You need to get the hell out. 

He’s too fast for you though, snatching you up in his arms the second you get close enough, your back pressed roughly against his chest as his arm wraps around your waist. You feel a cool chill at your jugular, your eyes flitting down to the shine of a blade and a sob emitting from your mouth, the tip of it digging into your throat just enough to break the first layer of skin. 

“You know, it’s a real shame it had to be this way,” he hums, breath hot against your ear as he walks you backwards a little. You want to struggle against his grasp, your mind screaming at you to act, to do something - anything. But the knife at your throat is enough to frighten you senseless. “I’m a real good fuck. Ask around, you’ll find that out. But you just had to go and make it difficult, didn’t you, princess?” 

“Please,” you whisper, fingernails digging into the cashmere sleeve of his sweater. “Please, don’t do this. You don’t have to do this.” 

He pulls the knife away from your neck just enough so his tongue can lathe at the crimson droplet seeping from the tiny wound; humming in satisfaction at the taste of your blood on his tongue. 

“If your pussy tastes as good as that, I might have to come back for seconds.” 

You’re shaking like a leaf, clinging to him to hold yourself up, his hips grinding against your ass - the prominent bulge beneath his trousers pressing into the crease of your behind. 

“Please, I don’t want this. P-please.” 

“Please, please,” he taunts, spinning you round in his hold to face him, the knife in his hand snaking beneath the lace front of your bra and slashing it open - your breasts falling free as he shoves you back against your bed. “You’ll be begging soon enough, but it won’t be for me to stop.” 

You lay there frozen, barely breathing as he pulls his sweater up over his head, his broad chest outlined in the shadow of the dim light. You must be staring, because he’s smirking again. Smirking at you as if you want this, as if you’re enjoying it. 

“You know how lucky you are that I even took you out for dinner tonight, princess? I can’t remember the last time I fucked a girl in a bed. We don’t usually make it out of the car before they’re dropping their panties for me.” 

Your eyes fix on the ceiling above you, arms resting against the mattress limply as you begin to accept it. It’s going to happen. He’s gone too far to stop now. His naked form is on top of you, forcing your thighs apart as he looms down over you. He pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him as he runs the tip of the blade down over the valley of your breasts. 

“C’mon. Give me a smile,” he whispers, his mouth latching painfully onto your nipple as he sucks it between his teeth. You hiss, your legs flailing either side of his waist as you struggle. “I bet, if I slip my fingers inside that little lace number - you’ll be soaked.” 

You're crying, tears rolling down over your cheeks and onto the sheets below. You cringe when you feel the heavy thud of his cock against your lace covered core, closing your eyes and breathing in deep through your nostrils. 

"Shall we find out?" Ransom asks, but he doesn't want an answer. He's not going to give you a choice in the matter regardless of what you say. He sits back on his haunches, the flat of the blade making its way down over your stomach, dipping just beneath the waistband of your panties. "I'll make you a deal, princess. If you're not wet when I cut these panties off, I'll let you go."

You can't help but sob harshly, because you can already feel it. Your body betrays your mind, and heat spreads between your thighs, the dampness coating the gusset of your underwear. And he knows it, too. Can tell by the expression of shame on your features. 

You jolt up the bed when the chill of the blade drags across your inner thigh, slipping beneath the lace and resting against your heated core. You hate the way your pussy clenches at the sensation, cursing yourself inwardly as he chuckles. 

You feel the strain of material against your hips as he twists the blade, the serrated edge tearing through your underwear in one swift movement - leaving your cunt bare for his possessive stare. 

Ransom lifts the knife up in front of him, smirking at the sight of it, the flat edge glistening and slick from your juices. You want to vomit. You think you might when he lowers it to your lips, pressing it against them and stroking the apple of your cheek with his thumb. A misplaced tenderness that you don't appreciate. 

"Looks like I was right, doesn't it?" He huffs proudly, nudging your bottom lip down with the tip of the knife. "Open up, princess. You can say you don't want it, but that pussy - oh, that pussy - she wants it."

His eyes are ferocious as you shy away, nuzzling your face into the mattress and refusing to follow his instruction. The slap of the blade on your cheek makes you cry out, dampness coating your cheek as he brings it back to your mouth. 

"Don't make it worse for yourself. Do as you're told, and I might even let you come tonight. Bet I could get one outta you in less than five minutes. Wanna make that bet? Didn't work out so well for you the last time, did it?"

"Now, stick your tongue out." You do it, hesitating a little when the tip of your tongue hits the metal - the salty sweet tang of your essence soaking into your tastebuds. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You flinch as he wipes the remainder of your slick against your cheek, the blade nicking your jawline on the way down, warmth rising to the surface as a droplet of blood trickles down to the hollow of your throat. 

"Now, can I put the fucking knife down? Been waiting all night to get my hands on this tight body."

You hesitate a little, nodding slowly and letting your tears of anguish flow freely. He tosses the knife onto the floor next to his clothes, trapping your body against the mattress with his as he forces his mouth onto yours. He kisses you with a ferocity that knocks you off kilter, his tongue forcing its way between your teeth. You fight the urge to bite down, his strength easily overpowering yours. You just want it to be over. 

"Next time I'll take my time, get to know what makes this body tick. But I think I've waited long enough to get inside that little cunt, don't you?"

Next time.

You swallow down the bile that gathers in the back of your throat, holding your breath when he reaches between your bodies and runs his fingers through your traitorously sloppy folds - pinching at your clit and making you shriek. 

"Absolutely fucking drenched. You act all demure and frigid, but deep down you're just a whore looking to get fucked." You can't hold back the whimper that escapes you when he rubs on your sensitive nub, tiny - strangely tender - circles causing you to pant. "That's it. Just enjoy it, princess. Behave, and I'll make it good for you."

You can feel that all familiar tingle rising to the surface, one hand gripping the sheets beside you and the other covering your mouth, almost as if you're trying to hold in your mewls. It's disgusting, he is disgusting - but you find yourself only a handful of strokes away from your orgasm. Ransom rips your hand away from your mouth, positioning your hands above your head and securing them both with one of his own. 

"No. I wanna hear those pretty noises. I deserve them." Ransom's ministrations quicken, your cunt clenching and releasing as you hold your breath and try to stave it off; but it's no use. "Oh, here it comes."

Your whole body jerks as you try to wriggle free of his grasp, your climax crashing over you and sending you dizzy, blood pounding in your ears and your cries ringing out in the air. Fresh tears fall at the realisation that he was right. How easy it was to send you hurtling over the edge. You're disgusted with yourself. 

"I'd hate to say I told you so, princess - actually no, that's a lie - I fucking told you so," he sneers, shoving your thighs apart once more and settling between them, your wrist aching from the force of his grip. "Now, be a good girl and beg for it."

"Fuck you," you snap, your suppressed rage bursting out of you as you spit in his face - your saliva rolling down his cheek. 

The blood drains from your face as he smirks and wipes it away with the back of his hand, reaching for your throat and squeezing roughly. He brings himself level with you, his eyes staring a hole through your skull as he seethes. "That was a mistake. I was gonna make it good for you, but now I'm just gonna take exactly what I want."

You're on your front before you know it, your body free of his weight as he leans back and reaches down over the edge of the bed. You try to scramble away when you see the knife in his hand, desperate sobs wracking your body when he grips your ankle and tugs you back towards him; his knees either side of your thighs as he presses his chest against your back. 

"Please!" you cry, shuddering as he drags the tip of the knife up over the curve of your spine. "Please, I'm begging you, you don't have to do this."

"Yeah, I do. Feel how hard you got me?" he purrs, slapping the heavy weight of his dick against the cleft of your ass. You wince and clench your thighs, but it's no use, the bulbous head prodding at your hole. "When's the last time you got fucked? Not that it matters. You've never been fucked like this."

"No!" you scream, his hefty girth splitting you open in one brutal thrust, pussy fluttering to try and accommodate him. He's huge and you're sobbing. "No, please no."

"Jesus fucking Christ, that's some good pussy," he grunts in your ear, the pressure from the knife nudging against the column of your throat. "Does it hurt, princess? I don't care."

You sigh with relief when he withdraws, but he soon punches the breath from your lungs when he fills you up again - his hips pounding against your ass, flesh rippling from the sheer force of it.

"You're gonna come all over my dick, and you're gonna say thank you. Got it?" he spits, punching into you mercilessly, fucking your frozen body into the mattress. You cry out when he applies more pressure to the blade, your pulse thrumming against the metal. "I said, got it?"

"Yes!" you howl, clinging to the comforter and bracing yourself for each violation of your soaked channel. 

You hate the way your cunt sucks him in, despise the way your knees tremble as he sets your nerve endings on fire. He can feel the way your body reacts to him, teases you with it, whispers filth over your shoulder that makes your gut twist. 

"You look so pretty when you cry, has anyone ever told you that? I think you're gonna come again." 

Every muscle in your body tenses up, his animalistic grunts vibrating against the nape of your neck at the feel of your walls clinging onto him. 

"Oh, you are. And then I'm gonna fill you up. I hope you're on birth control."

You are. Thank fucking God, you are. But the fact that he truly doesn't care makes your blood run cold. He's a fucking psychopath, and you just need to make it out of this alive. 

Ransom sets the knife down behind him, bicep curling around your throat and tugging your head back against his collarbone - devious eyes searing into yours, bloodshot and damp with tears. 

"You're a mess, look at you," he smirks, throwing his head back in pleasure when he punches against the deepest parts of you, balls slapping against the crease between your thighs. You close your eyes, try to take yourself somewhere peaceful in your head. Just want this to be over. "You can close your eyes, but your body is on fire for me, princess. I can feel it, and I know you can, too."

He's right. Your limbs are trembling, the sound of flesh smacking against flesh like static in your ears. You climb higher with each stroke of his throbbing cock against your swollen walls. 

"Oh!" you  gasp, his lips latching onto your shoulder and sucking a purple bruise into your dewy skin. You can't take it, so close to shattering that your body just takes over. "I-, fuck!"

"Thank me. Say thank you when you come on my dick. Remember who makes you feel this good. Say it."

Your eyes roll back, a garbled mess of words spilling from your lips and your head pounding. You're wrecked, pliable and fucked out beneath him - your ruined, abused cunt gripping him so fucking tight, you barely register the loss as he withdraws. Your brain is hazy, the blunt pressure of his cock pressing against your asshole making your eyes snap open in fright.

"N-ah!" you yelp, the crown of him punching through the tight ring of muscle, tip nestling inside as you tremble from the foreign intrusion. His hot, sticky spend splashes against your insides, sharp jerks of his hips sending shooting pains throughout your body.

"I said I was gonna fill you up. I didn't say where."

Ransom takes a minute, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling the scent of your coconut conditioner. It sickens you, the way he praises you as your body lays lifeless beneath him while he recovers from his climax. 

You barely move when he lifts himself off you, you don't even blink as the sound of his belt buckle clinking alerts you to the fact that he's redressing. Your mind is shot, your body is wrecked, and you choke out a sob when you feel his come ooze out and nestle between your pussy lips. 

"Thanks for the date," he leans down and kisses you on the cheek, and you recoil in disgust. "Next time you seduce me like that, you could at least buy me flowers first. Oh, and don't forget to lock up. There are some real assholes out there."

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Ares

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares

Lucifer

He cannot overstate what kind of damage this mortal was able to do in their first few seconds in the Devildom...

The instant they got to their feet, they had managed to incapacitate Satan and knock down Beel. Lucifer himself tried to get between them and Diavolo but…

If he hadn’t moved his head, if he was standing just ONE INCH to the left… he wouldn’t have a head anymore. Barbatos was there to intervene, but had he not they could have probably taken out the Avatar of Pride and done critical damage to the Demon Prince himself in one strike...

Frankly, Lucifer prefers not to dwell on that moment... He's sure Ares must be proud of this one...

He pretty much treats the mortal like a live bomb afterward, if he can get away with not interacting with them at all, that’s what he’ll do.

He’s NOT scared of them... much... It’s just that they have a bullish and uncooperative attitude at best and since they know they can take any of them, they don't even consider him - Lucifer, the eldest demon brother - a threat...

But you know what the most frustrating thing is? They won't give him an inch of respect, but they'll always listen to Levi! Levi!!

Look, Lucifer knows he may not hold a rank among the Hell's army and he might not have been a major player in the Celestial/Demonic wars of the day, but he's still the strongest demons here, dammit!! 😡

Lucifer finds nothing is more embarrassing than having to ask Levi of all people to keep the mortal in line because he can't... Oh, the humiliation… He hopes they leave soon...

Mammon

At first, he thought they were scary. But in time he thought they were scary… and also pretty damn awkward.

Mammon wasn’t there when they more or less wiped out the majority of his brothers in the Conference Hall but when he finally showed up he'd never seen Lucifer look so pale… If THAT doesn't make you shit your pants, he doesn't know what will.

Naturally, he kind of toned it down on the "stupid human" stuff real quick after seeing that…

But here's the thing. After the two made a pact together, Mammon started to notice that the MC wasn't all that mean, they were just… violent?

He legitimately thought that they couldn’t stand him for a while until one day a guy on the street called him a dirtbag. The MC threw a punch right there! No questions asked, they just decked that guy!!

It was kind of touching… and messy. Very messy. Did he mention that they’re terrifying yet? 😥

As it turns out, the MC has apparently spent a lot of their life just fighting things and being asked to fight things so they're not very used to showing non-violent affection… 

It took him awhile, but he realized that their way of saying, "I like you," is, "I will attack your enemies." So now all he does when his brothers tease him is say, "I'm telling MC!'' and they'll stop immediately. It's great!! 😁

Considers them to be his bodyguard when he goes out to gamble in some… shadier places. Most of the time not even the bouncers want to take on the MC, ain't nobody getting paid enough to lose that many teeth…

Leviathan

Okay, so. It's not very obvious anymore, but he USED to be on the front lines of the war against demons in the Celestial Realm. He was in charge of battle strategies, he led armies, and even now he still holds the highest rank of the royal navy!

So leave it to the kid of a war god to sniff all that out about him, huh…? They appeared to know all about his record the instant they saw him and they actually seemed to respect him for it!

For context, this mortal tells pretty much everybody to shove off but any time he’s around they call him “Admiral” or “sir” and actually pay attention to what he says! He can tell it drives Lucifer insane, but honestly? It’s a bit of an ego boost. 😌

It’s sort of cute when they come to him asking for tactical advice… They get just as into it as he does with his anime and any time he points out something that they haven't seen before they get so excited it's like they're a kid watching a magic trick. HUGE ego boost. 😏

Speaking of anime, it’s hit or miss whether or not they can watch any of it. Anything with good fight scenes (and let’s be honest, not that much talking) they’re on board for. But if the hero and the villain talk to each other for like an episode before throwing punches then the MC will just rant...

MC: “The enemy is distracted... Why aren’t they attacking yet??”

Levi: “Because the villain killed the hero’s best friend and they’re-”

MC: “They could avenge their friend right now if they ended things right here!”

Levi: “MC, we’ve been over this... That’s not how plot works.”

MC: “And now he got away!! See?? They should have killed him when they had the chance!”

Levi: “*sigh*... Let’s just play some CoD.”

Satan 

The last thing he remembered when the “human” hopped out of the portal was a sharp pain to the side of the temple and Asmo wailing as he fell unconscious…

Yeeeeah, not great. And unfortunately for the mortal the Avatar of Wrath tends to hold a grudge… 

For a comparatively brief moment in time, all of Satan’s considerable ire had shifted away from Lucifer and to their new housemate. They found their bed, clothes, pillows, food, and even their toothbrush cursed!

… But Ares kids must be built from some strong stuff, because half of what he employed didn’t even faze them! He even put an explosive spell on their backpack and not only did they tank the blast, it didn’t hurt them at all!! It was like they’re damn near immortal!

Annnnd they kind of are. Apparently the MC had taken a dip in the River Styx at some point before and became nigh invulnerable…

Was it maybe a little terrifying to know that they had kidnapped a nearly invincible demigod on the level of Achilles? Yes. Did that also mean that they must have had a weakness too? In theory....

Satan honestly devoted a depressing amount of time trying to uncover the “Achilles’ Heel” of his new sworn enemy… until…

The MC was walking with him and Asmo to RAD one morning when they passed by a group of lesser demons harassing a small puppy. Now Satan may be more of a cat man, but NO ONE fucks with animals while he’s around.

He was right about to go over and rip those demons a new one but the MC actually beat him to it! Apparently, the second that they realized what was happening, they launched themselves forward and started bashing the abusers' heads into a wall!

… Live by violence, forgive by violence because in that very moment Satan decided they weren’t so bad after all. He even joined in!

Oh, Asmo gave them both shit all day for the bloodstains on their uniforms and the scratches on their… everywhere, but it’s not like either of them cared. Righteous justice had been served and it was glorious!!

100% would team up with the MC in some kind of vigilante “punish-all-animal-abusers” gig. They have but to ask. 😌

Asmodeus

Oh they TERRIFIED Asmo when they first showed up! How else was he supposed to react?? They brought down his brothers like they were made of cardboard!!

Though he had to admit that the confident, battle-ready look they had about them was sexy as hell, he knew better than to go bear poking! 😣 He avoided them like plague until they finally asked him for a pact.

And then he discovered something… something very unexpected….

They're actually adorable!!!

Okay, like, not in appearance (they look like they could pile drive Cerberus for Pete’s sake!) but he discovered that they have NO CLUE how to handle physical affection. Like zero!!

The first time Asmo actually got the courage to try and hug them he expected them to toss him off, but instead they just stood there like a malfunctioning doll, all flustered and confused… It was so cute!!! 🥰

From that point on, Asmo would take every chance he could to wrap his arms around them or kiss their cheeks just to watch them try and fail to handle it. It's more fun than picking on Levi!!

It took two months for them to finally attempt any kind of reciprocation and even that was adorable! They pecked him on the forehead without thinking about it then nearly passed out from the realization. Apparently, they had never felt like kissing anyone before so he was quite honored!

The brothers know that if the MC's looking too mad to listen to Levi, they just need to call Asmo. A nigh invincible warrior becomes a LOT less scary after you’ve cuddled them into submission! 🤭

Beelzebub

Beel didn't like them one bit, at least not at the beginning. They had managed to get past him and actually attack Lucifer which was NOT a great first impression on their part...

He honestly saw them as a threat for a while, but unlike the rest of his brothers he didn’t avoid them. He just kept an eye on them.... constantly….

Look. Beel is a big guy. Stealth is not his strong suit… If he's tailing you, you're probably going to know about it because there's a six-foot something behemoth in orange following you around while pounding down bags of chips. He's not very subtle…

That being said, after following them around for a while the two finally got to talking and he realized that they didn’t want to hurt anybody or anything. They were just acting on instinct before.

After making the MC promise not to hurt any of his family, they got on much better terms. Hell, he actually got them into fangol!

Beel's sport of choice is pretty much just ultra-violent American football so the MC took a liking to it instantly! After enough begging, the coach let them try out and they got onto his team immediately.

He likes having them as a teammate! They're very good at the game, uh... even if they take it a little too seriously…

They once tried to convince his teammates to decorate the team bus with "the helmets of their fallen foes." They're REALLY into the sport… But hey, they haven't lost a game since they’ve joined. It’ll be fine!... Probably.

Belphegor

Hahaha… He’s in danger… 😥

It took one look at this mortal to make him rethink the whole, “Trick the Human” plan… Since when have humans looked like that?? They could crush his skull under their heel!!

It took all he had in him to play it cool when they first met because his internal monologue was nothing but screaming… THIS was the "human" he had to use to get him out of there?? How in the WORLD was he going to kill them?!

Admittedly, he had to think about it for a while. Belphie's a clever guy… and a demon. So who needs an honorable fight, anyway? If he can’t win one-on-one, then he’ll cheat!

He waited until the MC got the door open and didn't attempt a frontal assault… No laughter, no gloating. He just waited for them to turn their back, claws ready to dig out their heart, and then-!

MC: "Do you really want to try that?"

The MC must have had some kind of danger sense, because they didn't even have to turn around to know what Belphie was doing…

MC: "Look. I like Beel and you're his twin brother… So I'm willing to let this slide. But if you really want to try me…"

MC: *looks over their shoulder with the glare of a bona fide killer* "I won't hold back."

That was... very persuasive.

The MC brought Belphie down to the others peacefully with his tail between his legs and honestly Lucifer was more relieved that he wasn’t a bloodstain on the floor than he was mad… They could have killed him sooo easily… 

They did, indeed, forgive and forget about the whole “attempted murder” thing, though Belphie was never quite able to shake off how frightening they were in that moment… He had nightmares for a while.

Thankfully, Asmo clued him in that the MC would melt into a harmless puddle of fluff if they got even the slightest bit of physical affection... Oh, the sweet payback he could dish out... It’s cuddle time. 😏

[starryhyuck]

good girls (m) | slytherin!hyuck

pairing: slytherin!donghyuck x ravenclaw!reader

words: 4k+

summary: donghyuck thinks you’re the most perfect, little goody-two-shoes head girl who’s ever walked the halls of hogwarts. that is, until he finds out you’ve fucked na jaemin in the back of the library.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: public sex, overstimulation, creampies, degradation, riding

yes this is inspired by ‘good girls’ from 5sos.. how did you know?

“Leave me alone, Donghyuck.”

The Slytherin boy insists on following you, weaving his way through the shelves of the library simply just to annoy you. You’re sure Donghyuck has made it his goal to get under your skin this year, just as he has done in years prior. Luckily, the both of you are reaching the end of your time at Hogwarts, so it shouldn’t be long before he completely disappears from your life.

“What’s wrong? I’m just asking you for Potions help.”

You glare at him as you reach for another book you need to study. Since your father was the Potions professor, Donghyuck always assumed you would be able to help him cheat on upcoming tests. His version of help was always laced with just tell me the answer.

“I’m not telling you anything,” you hiss lowly, scurrying away in an attempt to get him to leave. You’re unsuccessful, of course, as he trails behind you when you reach your desk.

“Will you at least come to the Quidditch game this weekend?” He smirks, placing his hands on the table and leaning over to grin sleazily at you. You roll your eyes, getting situated in your seat as you open your Charms textbook.

“I’m not interested in watching Quidditch.”

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t lie. I saw you in the stands last weekend with Renjun.��

“Fine. I’m not interested in watching you play Quidditch.”

He scoffs. “Whatever. Just let me know when goody-two-shoes wants to come out of the library and have some fun.”

Donghyuck leaves you, finding Yangyang and Jeno in the Great Hall. The boys are laughing at the Slytherin table even though neither of them are actually a Slytherin. The rest of the table isn’t bothered by their presence.

Jeno snickers at the sight of Donghyuck’s long face when he sits next to him.

“Struck out again?”

“I didn’t strike out,” Donghyuck clarifies, although nobody is buying it. “It’s a slow process.”

“So you struck out?” Yangyang chuckles.

Donghyuck just rolls his eyes. “I’ll get there.”

Jeno glances back down at his Herbology textbook. “You should talk to Jaemin. I think they’re good friends.”

It’s hard to fathom that you would be friends with anybody, considering you spend most of your time in the library or helping your dad out in his office. Donghyuck’s tried really hard to get a sliver of your attention since First Year. He didn’t know exactly what it was that attracted him to you, but he supposes that you rejecting him kept spurring on his advances. You were also super fucking hot, and he almost passed out in Fourth Year when you showed up to the Yule Ball wearing a dress that still lingers in his dreams.

“How would Jaemin even-“

“Don’t ask me,” Jeno brushes off. “I’m studying.”

Donghyuck huffs before pulling out his own textbook. He supposes he should study too since you’re clearly not going to help him. He tends to zone out during most of his classes, mainly thinking about how sinful you look in your little skirt, how he could just rip your robes right off and-

Yangyang hits him upside the head. Donghyuck groans.

“Stop daydreaming and focus.”

The Slytherin boy grumbles but listens anyways, trying his best to focus on the History of Magic instead of imagining you bent over one of the desks in Potions class.

—

“If you’re not going because Donghyuck asked you to, then that’s just stupid. I don’t even understand why you’re in Ravenclaw.”

You glare at Renjun. He’s all dressed up in Ravenclaw gear, covered head to toe in a mountain of blue. You rarely attend Quidditch games unless Renjun drags your ass out there to watch.

“I don’t want to go today. Can’t you find someone else to come with you?”

“Nope. Only you,” he smiles. You’re not amused in the slightest bit. “Oh, I see. Is it because you don’t want to see Na Jaemin?”

“Jaemin and I are history, Renjun. Don’t need to dwell in the past.”

“You fucked him literally a month ago.”

You grab the nearest article of clothing near you and fling it at Renjun. Jisu grunts at the both of you.

“Holy fuck, I’m trying to study! Just go to the game and get the fuck out of our room!”

You grumble but listen to your roommate as she seems to grow more irate the longer Renjun stands in the doorway. He smiles in victory when you walk beside him to the Quidditch field. You ignore his glee while he babbles on about today’s game, wondering who’s going to reach victory.

You both find seats in the stands, and you feel embarrassed being here. After all, it was only a month ago when Jaemin fucked you in the Quidditch locker rooms. You managed to not get caught, but you wouldn’t hold it against Jaemin to tell the entire team what happened.

Jaemin wasn’t your boyfriend by any means. You two simply started to get closer this year and to release most of your frustration, you found yourself underneath him every once in a while. You ended it last month after Seojeong started to show an interest in dating him, and you didn’t want to interfere with the Hufflepuff’s advances. You haven’t spoken to Jaemin since then, only catching him eyeing you during Potions ever so often.

But now you see him as he mounts his broom, holding steady in the air as Slytherin’s Seeker. Your eyes are too focused on him to realize Donghyuck has been waving frantically for the last minute to try and get your attention.

Renjun elbows your side and you groan.

“What the fuck?”

He points to where Donghyuck is, just a few feet away from Jaemin in the air. You sigh and refuse to wave back at him, but Donghyuck still keeps his bright smile.

“Wouldn’t he be better as a commentator than a player?” You ask Renjun, knowing how fast Donghyuck can run his mouth.

“You’ll be surprised. Donghyuck’s really good. If I were on the team though, I think I would like to be Seeker,” Renjun muses.

You scoff. “Seeker? You can’t see for shit!”

You think Renjun’s about to murder you then and there, but the whistle is blown and the game sets in motion. He diverts his attention, cheering loudly for Ravenclaw.

As the game draws on, you see what Renjun means. Donghyuck is impeccably fast on his broom, whizzing by your Ravenclaw team to throw the Quaffle into one of the hoops. Your eyes widen and you lean over to Renjun.

“He’s pretty good.”

“I told you.”

You become mesmerized in the way Donghyuck zooms across the field, dodging any incoming bludgers and getting score after score for Slytherin. You would usually be focused on how Jaemin holds steady on his broom, trying to capture the Snitch.

You can’t take your eyes off Donghyuck’s figure, sweat dripping from his forehead as he eagerly throws the Quaffle into another hoop. Chenle, the commentator, praises him once again. You don’t even mind that your team is losing — Donghyuck seems determined to make them eat dirt.

You won’t lie either, he looks incredibly attractive like this.

“Fuck!” Renjun shouts in your ear. “Jaemin found the Snitch!”

It’s only mere seconds before Chenle declares victory for Slytherin, and the sea of green leaps up to cheer. Renjun grumbles, hanging his head in his hands as you laugh. The rest of Ravenclaw is just as dejected as him, filing out of the stands and mumbling about how no one can stop Donghyuck once he’s on the field.

“Come on, champ,” you encourage him, trying to pull the small boy up from his seat. Renjun sighs as he follows you and since you two are one of the last ones to leave the stands, you catch the Slytherin team leaving the locker rooms and bouncing with joy to go to their after party.

Donghyuck’s eyes light up when he sees you and you quickly try to detour, tugging Renjun along with you. Donghyuck calls out your name and you sigh, turning back around to face him. He looks like a dream if you’re being honest, fresh out of the showers and beaming at his victory.

“You came!”

You cough awkwardly. “Renjun dragged me here.”

“Impressive what you did out on the field,” Renjun nods in acknowledgment. You can only imagine how hard it was for him to choke out a compliment, considering Renjun hates when Ravenclaw loses.

Donghyuck nods back. He turns his attention to you. “Coming to the after party?”

“We’re not in Slytherin,” you mention, pointing to the blue colors both you and Renjun are wearing. “Plus, you just killed our Quidditch team’s reputation.”

He smirks. “True, but I’m sure no one cares if you’re from a different house as long as you celebrate. At least, I don’t care if you’re a Ravenclaw.”

Renjun clears his throat at Donghyuck’s attempt at flirting. He nudges your side when Jaemin leaves the locker rooms, his hair a newly dyed blonde as he combs his fingers through it.

You quickly grab Renjun’s wrist. “Um, we’ll decline. See you later!”

You both scurry away before Jaemin has a chance to see you, leaving Donghyuck flustered at your rejection. Jaemin comes up to swing his arm around Donghyuck’s shoulder.

“Why are you still here? I thought you would be off to the party by now.”

Donghyuck sighs. “Tried my luck with Y/N but she just hates me.”

Jaemin freezes at the sound of your name. He coughs a little. “Are you talking about the Ravenclaw?”

Donghyuck nods and the two begin walking back to their common room. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to get her to open up to me but I guess she’s really not interested.”

“Um, do you know that we used to be a thing?”

Donghyuck fully stops in his tracks. “What?”

Jaemin looks extremely flustered now in front of his friend. “She kind of ended it a month ago. But we used to, um, be together all the time.”

“Be together how?” Donghyuck narrows his eyes.

“I don’t need to spell it out for you, Donghyuck.”

He folds his arms across his chest. “I think you do. As far as I know, Y/N barely has any friends as is so I find is unbelievable that she would open herself up to you.”

Jaemin flushes at the implication, recalling exactly how many times you’ve ‘opened up to him.’ He hasn’t caught any feelings for you and he knows it goes the same way around, but your friendship from before is completely broken. You two can barely be in the same room together without feeling the tension.

“You don’t know her very well then,” Jaemin remarks, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. He honestly didn’t know Donghyuck expressed an interest in you until now. “Let’s forget about what I said and have a good after party, okay?”

Jaemin tugs Donghyuck along but Donghyuck can’t stop thinking about you.

Specifically, you underneath the blonde boy, moaning and thrashing in his hold while Jaemin relentlessly pounds into your tight hole.

Fuck.

—

“Sorry, we’re saving this seat for- What the fuck?!”

Jeno and Yangyang are both floored by their friend’s new appearance, wide eyed as Donghyuck takes his seat next to them in the Great Hall. The Slytherin boy says nothing, diving into his breakfast without a word.

Jeno leans closer to him and whispers. “Who are you?”

Donghyuck glares at him. When he found out about you and Jaemin on Saturday, he had a little bit of a meltdown. His roommate, Shotaro, watched in confusion as Donghyuck paced back and forth for hours. Shotaro was even more befuddled when Donghyuck made the impulse decision to buy blonde hair dye, matching the same shade as Jaemin’s.

He didn’t expect to look so different, but with the way Jeno and Yangyang were staring at him, it was as if he became another person.

“I wanted to do something new,” Donghyuck shrugs, offering his explanation. The two of them are silent after that, both exchanging glances with one another.

Yangyang clears his throat after a few minutes. “Did you lose a dare?”

“No,” Donghyuck hisses. “What? Don’t I look good?”

Both of them avert their gaze and Donghyuck narrows his eyes. His stare wanders over to the Ravenclaw table, where you’re currently eating with Renjun and Jisu. His heart thumps in his chest while he watches you giggle at something your roommate said, leaning on her side for support. His trance is broken by the person he wants to see the least.

“Woah. What happened to you?”

Jaemin takes his seat next to Yangyang, eyebrows raised at Donghyuck’s new look.

“Nothing.”

His curt response makes Jaemin even more amused, and Jeno chuckles.

“Maybe Y/N likes blonde guys. Remember, Jaem? When you two were in the library and you said-“

Jaemin throws his fork at Jeno and hits him square in the forehead, causing the Hufflepuff to immediately glare and lunge for the Slytherin across the table. Yangyang tries his best to break the two up while Donghyuck’s mind drifts to Jeno’s statement.

The library? The place where you’re holed up all day, studying to get the best grades in every single subject? Did you let Jaemin take you against one of the bookshelves? Did you sit on his cock while you both pretended to read at the table.

Fuck. You were far from the good girl he always pictured you as.

Donghyuck stands wordlessly, ignoring Jeno and Jaemin’s squabble as he walks out of the Great Hall. He finds himself sitting at your table in the library, patiently waiting for your arrival. He doesn’t give a fuck about attending classes today, he needs to know the answers to his questions.

And so he waits. Surprisingly, he actually manages to get some studying done. Maybe the library wasn’t so bad.

He finally sees you during lunch period, watching as you walk in and smile softly at those who pass you. Your figure immediately retreats to the Potions section, and Donghyuck is quick to follow after you. He spots you standing on your tiptoes trying to grab one of the textbooks on the top shelf.

He approaches you with light footsteps, and you jump five feet in the air when you hear his voice.

“Did you do it here?”

“W-What?”

Donghyuck’s eyes are glazed over, dark as they scrutinize you. You feel small underneath his heavy gaze, and you try to ignore the beam of pleasure that shoots straight to your core. You almost didn’t recognize him with his newly dyed hair, and you won’t deny that he looks fucking hot.

He takes a step closer to you, trapping your body between him and the bookshelf. You shudder when he runs his finger down your arm.

“Did you lift your skirt up for Jaemin here? Let him take you in public?”

You gulp, avoiding his eyes. “H-How do you know about that?”

He growls, and the sound causes a gush of wetness to seep out of your core. “So it’s true? Little Ravenclaw princess is nothing but a common whore? Pretends to be all studious but ends up getting railed for everyone to see?”

You whimper. “It’s not like that- I-“

Your voice catches in your throat when his hand drifts up the expanse of your thighs, fingers dangerously close to your dripping cunt. You quickly survey the area, afraid someone will see the both of you. Most students are eating lunch in the Great Hall but there are still a select few who have chosen their studies over meals. When you did this with Jaemin, it was well past curfew and the library was completely empty.

Despite the fact that you could get caught at any time, it only makes you want him more.

“Touch me, please,” you beg, gripping his forearm.

His eyebrows shoot up at your immediate compliance. “You really are just a little slut, aren’t you? So fucking needy. Before this, you wouldn’t even give me the time of day. You’re just that desperate, aren’t you? Want your small pussy to be filled?”

You quickly nod, way past the point of preserving your dignity.

He flips you over, pressing your cheek against the wood. You whine when his fingers run over your clothed slit.

“So wet, baby,” he whispers, trying his best to conceal your garbled moans with his hand. “Is this for me? Or for Jaemin?”

“For you,” you choke out. “For you, Hyuck.”

He groans at the nickname, moving your panties aside and pushing a finger into you. Your mouth opens in a silent cry as your fingers dig into the shelves. Donghyuck’s breath is hot and heavy in your ear, and he can’t believe you’re letting him take you like this. He wonders what would happen if word got around to your father, who would fail Donghyuck in Potions for sure.

He doesn’t really care at this point, especially when your warm walls are clenching around his finger.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, pushing another digit inside. “Want to see you fall apart, baby.”

His other hand comes up to tug at your hair so he can see your expression. You already look completely fucked out and he’s barely done anything to you. He knows he doesn’t have a lot of time before the next period starts, so he quickly moves to unbuckle his belt. His fingers slip out of you and you cry at the loss.

You get more excited at the sound and he chuckles. “Dreamed about this for years,” he whispers. “This pussy is mine now, baby. Won’t let anyone else have it.”

You feel his tip prodding at your entrance, and he waits for your go-to. You decide to slip it in yourself, reaching to grasp his base and push back on his cock. He’s thicker than you thought, and the stretch fills you whole.

Once Donghyuck realizes how desperate you really are, his hands fly to your hips, bottoming out inside you. You both groan lowly, his length pressing against your sweet spot.

He’s about to start thrusting until he hears voices approaching. You both start to panic, and Donghyuck quickly directs you to grab a book from the top shelf while he rearranges his robes. To anyone else, it looks like Donghyuck is helping you grab a book, maybe just a little closer than normal.

Three Hufflepuff students pass by, heading to the History of Magic section of the library. They pay no attention to you two, and Donghyuck sighs in relief. You, however, are still wanting a nice fuck.

You whine and clench around his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he hisses. “We almost got caught but you don’t care, do you?”

You shake your head and he chuckles lowly. He resumes fucking you, trying his best to keep his grunts to a minimum. It’s difficult, especially when the sound of his balls slapping against your ass increases in volume.

His hands move around your middle, pulling you closer to his chest. “Please,” you beg.

“Baby wants to cum?” You frantically nod and he laughs breathily. His fingers grip your breast over your tight button up shirt, tilting your head so he can kiss you. His tongue slips into your mouth and you whine, driving closer and closer to the edge.

You fall before you know it, Donghyuck trying to keep you quiet as you orgasm around him. The feeling of you creaming around his cock brings him waves of pleasure, and he tries to pull out of you until you stop him.

“Inside,” you plead.

He short circuits at your request, mind going blank. He cums without warning, shooting ribbons of his cum deep inside your waiting womb. You moan at the feeling of him filling you up.

When you both come to, he kisses your neck.

“You’re such a dream,” he mumbles. “Can you stop ignoring me now?”

You laugh. He helps you look presentable, pulling your panties back on even though his cum leaks out of your hole. He rearranges your skirt and tucks himself back into his pants.

You turn around and kiss him.

“You’re really hot when you play Quidditch.”

He smirks. “I knew it.”

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes. Then, your voice grows small. “Can we do this again tonight?”

He grins. He wraps an arm around your waist and presses his lips to yours again.

“Are you mine? Not Jaemin’s?”

You scoff. “I just let you cum inside me. I never let Jaemin do that.”

His eyes sparkle. “Good girl.”

(bonus scene because i’m horny)

“Where are you going?”

Jisu raises an eyebrow at you as you grab one of the candles from your nightstand, ready to meet Donghyuck. You shrug and smile at her.

“Getting some good dick.”

She giggles and winks at you. “Sounds fun. Be safe!”

You slip out of your room quietly, trying your best to be as silent as possible. You’ve snuck out many times before after curfew, being able to tell your Ravenclaw prefects that you desperately needed to cram some extra studying in. They all thought you wouldn’t receive any major discipline anyways since your father was the Potions professor.

You sneak into the Slytherin common room, using the password Donghyuck gave you earlier. The Slytherin prefects were both asleep on the ground, as expected.

Donghyuck waited for you on the sleek emerald couch, smiling as he spotted you. He patted his thighs so you could take your seat, and you giggled, placing the candle on the table and sitting in his lap.

“Missed me?” He murmured, wrapping his arms around you and pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

“Saw you like two hours ago.”

He frowns. “And you haven’t missed me since then?”

You roll your eyes and whine. “Hurry. Want your cock.”

“Will you let me take you to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“If you win the next Quidditch game.”

He smirks. “Deal.”

You quickly move to unbuckle his belt, sinking to your knees as he watches you carefully. You moan when his cock springs up, tip bright and red. He’s heavy in your hand when you take him, licking a stripe up from his base to the tip. He groans when you bring his head into your mouth, sucking gently.

Holy fuck. You deepthroat him in no time, sinking down on his cock until you choke. He watches with hazy eyes as you struggle to suck him, his length filling your windpipe.

“Too big for you, baby? Can’t handle my big cock?”

You shake your head in defiance. You start bobbing your head up and down, determined to give him the best blowjob of his life. Donghyuck’s eyes dart up when he hears the sound of a door creaking, locking eyes with Jaemin. You haven’t heard anything — too preoccupied with sucking his dick.

Jaemin’s eyes widen when he spots you two before he smiles, throwing Donghyuck a wink and a thumbs up. He retreats back to his room and Donghyuck can’t take the wait any longer.

“Hands and knees.”

You pull away from him, spit dribbling down the side of your mouth. You follow his orders, pulling down your pajama pants and bending over the side of the couch. He delivered a harsh slap to your cheek, and you whimper.

“Pretty girl,” he praises as he lines himself up to your entrance. “Little cock hungry cumslut. What would people say if they saw you? Good Ravenclaw desperate for cum?”

“Want them to see me,” you blubber. “Want them to see how well I take your cock.”

He grunts. “Fuck. Dirty little minx.”

He practically rips your panties in half, fingers digging into your flesh as he takes the first thrust. Is it even possible that his cock grew bigger? He’s hitting your sweet spot with no problem from this angle, sending sparks flying in your tummy. You swear you can feel him in your throat if it was possible.

“Take my cock, baby,” he hisses. “Fuck. See what I do for you? Been chasing after you for years thinking you were a little innocent schoolgirl but turns out I just needed to give you my cock and then you would be all mine. Even dyed my hair to this stupid fucking color for you.”

“I-I like y-your hair,” you cry.

“Yeah? Because it looks just like Jaemin’s, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t give a fuck about Jaemin. Only want you.”

He’s satisfied by your answer and moves his hand down to pinch your clit. The sensation sends you flying into your first orgasm and you sob as you cum around his cock.

He slips out of you, sitting down on the couch and patting his thighs again. “Come on. Show me how much you want it.”

Shakily, you rise and straddle Donghyuck’s hips, slowly sinking down on him. His girth stretches you even more as you ride him, twisting and turning your hips until you feel the burn. You don’t care if you look like a needy slut at this point — he’s made you this way.

You never fucked Jaemin with this much fervor, usually letting him lazily thrust into you before you both reach your climax. He also never stared at you the way Donghyuck is looking at you now, eyes dark as he watches you fall apart on his cock.

“Gonna cum again, baby?”

“Y-Yes,” you answer back, closing your eyes as you feel pleasure overtake your body. You can barely think straight as he fucks you so good.

You orgasm again before you fully realize it, wetness dripping down your thighs and onto his cock.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he groans. “Where do you want my cum?”

“Inside, inside,” you respond, observing as he chases his own high. He stills inside of you, cumming deep inside your tummy.

You kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth while you feel his cum drip out of you.

“I better win that Quidditch game.”

You giggle. “You better.”

“What’s gonna happen if you get pregnant?”

You shrug. “I’m taking those muggle pills Jisu gave me so I think we’re fine. It’s not like it’s going to stop you from cumming inside me anyway.”

“True. Second round in the Astronomy Tower?”

“I can barely walk.”

“I’ll carry you.”

[vintagedaydreams]

Hey guys- not a TLNRS update, I know. But not something I’ve been writing instead either! I actually found this on my phone.

It’s not complete- more of a scene. And it won’t ever be completed. But if you want to run with it- go for it.

Sorry it’s so long without a page break.

Warnings: some strong language, talk of suicide. Not as dark as it sounds.

You work at MI6 in the Admin/Research dept. working on cover stories and recon work for locations/marks/etc.

You work with a handful of other people in the dept and you have a good pal in your desk mate: Katelyn.

All of the agents-Double Ohs included - go into the Research Dept frequently to get folders on their missions and their marks. Everybody knows you-everybody likes you. You’re competent and your peers usually have you look over their work as well when dealing with difficult marks or missions.

You jumped on the couch as the door slammed open, bouncing off the wall. Scrambling to your feet, you looked over to see James Bond filling the doorway, blue eyes spitting sparks. You took a moment to admire him, his aura of danger and confidence dark and practically pulsing around him, before you realized with a start that he was glaring at you.

“…Bond?” you asked hesitantly and, apparently taking that as permission, he stalked into your small apartment in the heart of London. The door was shut in much the same way as it was opened and you gave a wince for your poor neighbors.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, voice pitched low and dangerous. You shivered at the tone, though it wasn’t in fear. Oh dear. You were in trouble.

“Um,” you looked around in confusion at the half eaten tub of ice cream and the movie playing quietly in the background, “no?” It was stated more than asked. Especially since he seemed to have an answer to his question already.

“Then you won’t mind if I join you,” he almost snarled, making his way over to you. Your eyes, about the size of dinner plates by now, widened even more.

“What?” you squeaked out. Bond, the James Bond was all but foaming at the mouth and he was going to stay?

“Going to interrupt any plans of yours?” he bit out and you blinked.

“Plans? Um, no…” A low rumbling sounded through the apartment .

“Are you….are you growling at me?” you gaped in disbelief. Suddenly, you found yourself gripped by strong hands, Bond an inch away from you.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N,” he ground out and the anger that had been slowly building at all his growls and snarls finally sprung forth.

“What are you talking about, Bond?” you growled right back. He blinked for a moment before his face darkened even further than before.

The man stepped closer, if that was possible until you were flush against each other. You felt your stomach flip and you gulped, looking up into his eyes.

Blue eyes stared down at you and the hands gripping your shoulders loosened ever so slightly before he gave you a small shake.

“Katelyn told me about your conversation,” he intoned darkly, an eyebrow rising in a challenge to deny it. Your brow furrowed.

“Conversation? What conversation?” Katelyn and you had had many conversations, the most recent of them centering around the man in your apartment, but you had no idea what topic could have Bond so…well, upset was a bit tame for his current mood….

“Did you really think that I wouldn’t find out?” he growled out, effectively bringing your thoughts back to him. Find out….? Find out!

Your eyes widened. Katelyn wouldn’t…she wouldn’t have told him about your conversation yesterday when you’d said that you were pretty sure you were attracted to 007! No, she wouldn’t have thought that was a big enough deal to tell the Double-Oh in question. Everyone thought that man was attractive.

Then what…?

“You should know by now, that when I claim people as mine, I take an interest in their lives,” Bond continued, eyes glaring down at you. Apparently your silence had already condemned you.

You fought the major blush that threatened to make itself known at his wording. Claimed you as his? Oh, if only!

“Bond,” you started, voice mellow and as soothing as you could make it.

“Don’t,” he interrupted, low and dangerous. You sighed.

“What are you so worked up about? I’m sure everyone’s thought it at least once!” you defended yourself. Really, the only possible answer to his mood was that Katelyn had told him, for whatever reason, that you found him attractive. And apparently, he didn’t like that.

Ouch. There went your pride and self esteem.

“That’s your excuse?” he demanded, voice sounding almost incredulous. “So because everyone else has thought it, you can too?”

“Not quite what I meant,” you muttered as his grip tightened once again. “I just meant that it shouldn’t be a big deal to you! I’m not the first!”

The room went deadly silent and you hesitantly gazed into the glacier eyes above you. You didn’t understand what was so terrible about you finding him attractive, (were you that repulsive?), but he really was making too big a deal out of it. You were shy! It’s not like you would’ve ever said or done anything to him!

“Never say it shouldn’t be a big deal to me,” Bond suddenly hissed and you felt a bit uneasy at the look on his face. You weren’t afraid of him, but you knew what he could do and you also knew that he had a reputation for being unpredictable and out of control. You were in hot water and just starting to realize it.

“Really, Bond,” you murmured, trying to salvage the situation before somebody, most likely you, got hurt, “it’s really not that big of a deal. Can we just…forget I ever said it and you ever heard it?”

His hands tightened on your arms even further and you knew there’d be bruises there tomorrow.

“No,” he answered, voice deadly soft, “I will not forget it.” Suddenly he ripped himself away from you and started pacing the floor furiously.

“Damn it, Y/N! Why can’t you take this seriously?! Do you have any idea, any idea at all, what was going through my head when Katelyn told me? No, of course you don’t. Well, let me tell you something, Y/L/N,” he snarled, “if you want to commit suicide and ‘end it all’ then I suggest you find yourself another job. Because if you stay at MI6, you’re mine and I am not going to let anybody, least of all you, take you away from me!”

Once again, silence rang out in your apartment and you stood there, gaping at Bond.

“Commit…..what?” you asked, mentally going over all your conversations with Katelyn. You telling her that you were going to ‘end it all’ was never part of any of them. YOu were actually quite happy with life where you were, thank you very much. Granted, it’d be better if you had a certain someone to share it with, but suicide? Yeah, never touched on that topic.

“I know your vocabulary is better than that,” Bond spat, finally stopping his pacing. You flinched at the acid in his tone.

“Bond, I never—“

“Expected her to squeal? No kidding. I figured that you didn’t want her to, if our little conversation a minute ago was any indication.”

“No, Bond, I was under the impression—“

“That I didn’t care? Yeah, got that one too. Well here’s a news flash for you, I do. And I will. So I suggest that you take up some counseling because you’re not going to die on my watch.”

“Bond,” you sighed, “honestly, can I get a word in? I’m not going to commit suicide.”

“Damn right you’re not,” the agent in front of you growled. He was suddenly right in your space again. “I’m going to stay here tonight with you and tomorrow, you’re going to a therapist.”

You backed up a step, feeling a bit…flustered, not to mention frustrated, with his close proximity.

“Will you just listen to me?!” you yelled, throwing your hands up in the air in ill repressed ire. “I am not going to commit suicide because I don’t want to! I never planned to and I never talked about it with Katelyn!”

The silence that descended on you was thick and you crossed your arms against your chest, glaring at the agent in front of you. He looked torn between not believing you and wanting to.

“You never mentioned suicide to Katelyn?” he asked finally, voice lower and not quite so angry this time around.

“No,” you said quietly, relief coloring your voice that he finally seemed to be listening to you.

Blue eyes bored into your own, but you stared back at him, refusing to show anything that could be taken as guilt or uneasiness. You’d finally gotten the man to listen to you. You didn’t want to give him any reason to doubt you word.

You were not going to a freakin’ therapist.

“And you’ve never thought about committing suicide?” he pressed, once again stepping forward until he was in your space.

“No,” you repeated, with only a hint of impatience. Really. Why did he believe Katelyn so readily but not you?

“Then you won’t mind if I stay here tonight,” he suddenly said, eyes once again daring you to challenge him. Which, normally, you wouldn’t. But tonight, he’d broken in, interrupted your coveted “alone with a movie and ice cream” time, yelled at and accused you of shit you didn’t actually do and now demanded you house him for the night.

Yeah…not in this lifetime.

“I do mind, actually,” you shot back, eyes narrowing at the agent. “I don’t need a babysitter and now that I’ve told you that I’m not suicidal, there’s no reason for you to stay.”

You turned to the couch and went to sit back down. “Especially with that attitude of yours,” you muttered under your breath. Really, there were days it was like dealing with a five year old. Pretty sure he was supposed to be acting older than you.

“Y/N,” came the warning growl from behind you and you rolled your eyes.

“Seriously, Bond, you can relax, okay? I’m not suicidal, I don’t want to ‘end it all’ and I’ll see you tomorrow at work.” You finally turned to look at him over your shoulder. “Unless you’re going on another mission…?”

The Double-Oh stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. “No mission yet.”

You nodded once, “Good. Then I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” You turned your attention back to the movie that had made quite a bit of progress since you’d been so rudely interrupted and pretended to not hear the soft cursing behind you or feel the glare being shot to the back of your head.

There was blissful silence in the apartment for a few minutes, (aside from the movie), before Bond finally piped up, “Really, Y/N? Harry Potter?”

You shot your own glare at him over your shoulder. “For your information, I happen to like Harry Potter. And you’re not even supposed to still be here, so no dissing the movie that’s playing.”

To your surprise, annoyance, disbelief and, you admit, slight pleasure, Bond moved around the couch arm and sat down not two inches from you, grabbing your tub of ice cream off the coffee table and spooning some into his mouth.

“At least you have good taste in this,” he muttered, blue eyes locking onto yours. It took you a second, but you realized he was teasing you. You weren’t aware the man had a playful bone in his body!

Once you got over your shock you managed to answer back, “It’s been known to happen.” You plucked the spoon out of his hand and took your own bite of the chocolate ice cream. “But this is mine. Go grab your own.”

“Now, now, Y/N. I think you should share.”

“Ha!” You barked a laugh, “Whatever for? You broke in here, remember? I didn’t bust into your house!”

“I would advise you never trying that,” he said, suddenly serious. “Good way to get shot.”

“Bond,” you said back just as serious, “I don’t know where you live and I don’t want to know.”

He tilted his head. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because I’d probably be tempted to come over and try to shank you in your sleep,” you said with an angelic smile.

Bond met your smile with a dastardly smirk of his own.

“Are you sure it’d be to shank me?”

You gave him a shove with your shoulder as you spooned more ice cream out of the tub still in his hands.

“Yup. Perv.”

His chuckle made a shiver run up your spine and you realized he needed to leave. Like, now.

Putting the spoon in the tub, you leaned back onto the couch and turned back to the movie. “When you leave, would you put that in the freezer and lock the door on your way out?”

He leaned back as well, putting one arm on the back of the couch behind you before he answered. “I’ll put it in the freezer and lock the door, Y/N, but I’m not leaving.”

You turned your head, unintentionally pressing your cheek against his forearm. You had to physically stop yourself from jerking away as if burned. With Bond, showing any kind of weakness wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

And he was definitely a weakness of yours.

“Whaddya mean you’re not leaving? I thought we decided that I didn’t need a babysitter.”

“You mean you decided you didn’t need a babysitter.”

“Bond,” you growled and he shrugged. Shrugged! As if you were discussing the weather!

“Don’t call me a babysitter then. Call me something else.”

“Oh, believe me, Bond, there are several things I’d like to call you,” you muttered hotly, “and none of them are particularly flattering.”

The grin he gave made you almost give in and do pretty much whatever he wanted you to. Someday, this thing you had over Bond was going to get you into so much trouble.

“How about we just say that we’re two friends hanging out, alright? You don’t have to call me anything.”

Since moving to England, you didn’t have a whole lot of friends you hung out with, but you were still pretty sure that it only qualified as ‘friends hanging out’ if both parties were willing. But, you’d already missed about a third of the movie and could feel a headache coming on so you just nodded.

“Fine. Whatever you say, friend.”

Bond gave a small grunt of triumph and relaxed further into the couch after depositing the ice cream on the table once again. Your head was still in contact with his arm, but he was warm and solid next to you, so you decided to just enjoy the rare closeness you had with the man and focused on the rest of Harry Potter.

It wasn’t until the movie was over and Bond was putting the ice cream away that the shit hit the fan. Again.

You were in the middle of stretching when Bond came back into the living room, barefoot and no tie.

“Hey, Y/N, you want—“ he cut off abruptly and you stopped stretching to look at him expectantly.

“Do I want what, Bond?” you asked after a few moments of silence, but the man wasn’t paying attention to you but rather looking at your arms.

Looking down, you saw why.

“Wow,” you murmured to yourself, “I thought I had until at least tomorrow before those showed up.”

“What happened?” Bond demanded, narrowed blue eyes never leaving the dark bruises around your upper arms.

You’d never been good with taking things very seriously, especially if you didn’t find them to be a big deal, but even you had to admit that saying, “Considering the work you’re in, I’m surprised you don’t recognize your own handy work,” was a bit too…crass.

But, it’d already been said so you just gave a small rueful smile and apologized.

Figures, the apology would be what set him off.

“You’re apologizing to me for hurting you?” he demanded, voice loud once again. And here you’d thought you had met your quota for yelling today.

You groaned. “Oh for the love of…. Really, Bond? My neighbors are going to think I’m in some kind of domestic situation if you keep yelling. So, shush and help me get the house ready for sleeping.”

The super secret spy agent looked at you for a long moment while you patiently, (or as patient as you could be), waited for him to come to his senses already so you could get some shut eye.

“I should go,” Bond said after a moment. You crossed your arms.

“James,” you said softly, taking a step towards him, “I really would appreciate it if you stayed.”

The man in front of you scoffed, though blue eyes didn’t leave your own.

“A few minutes ago, you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”

You scoffed yourself. “That’s because you were going to babysit me and thought I was suicidal of all things. Which I’m not. But I would like you to stay if you’re willing.”

Bond regarded you for a moment before stepping forward until he was directly in front of you. Warm fingers gently trailed over the darkening bruises on your arms.

“You’re sure you’d like me to stay?” he asked quietly, eyes boring into yours.

You gave a gentle smile. “I really would like nothing better.”

[moxfirefly]

I have to thank @southernblossoms for this one, she got evil!Leo in my brain and he hasn’t left ever since.

TW: Violence, Gore, Blood, NSFW content below

Rated Explicit (18+ years)

“She said I'm looking like a bad man, smooth criminal

She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

She said that I don't look like me no more, no more

I said I'm just tired”

Leonardo always knew there was an inch inside of him that was darkness.

If left alone and unchecked, it would spread. Fester like some disease and he feared that someday he’d allow it to course through his body so freely.

And let it win.

It seemed today would be that unfortunate day. A night like any other, just more bloodshed than necessary. But hey, who said they should go and kill his father? Torture him to such an extent and string up his body for his brothers and him to find.

In that very moment that inch had grown in his soul to a degree that it blinded him. All he knew was to destroy, to hurt and erase those who had done this. He felt so cold, hands cupping his fathers motionless bloodied feet, the gentle tapping of blood and the cries of his brothers echoing in his ears.

So when Leo stood, bloodied (not bathed in his own), holding the head of the monster responsible, how could he regain peace? This had only brought a momentary second of reprieve and it was so fleeting. He looked into Shredder’s lifeless eyes, numbness spreading but a need that had started out as an inch. A need to kill everyone who had been part of this, directly or indirectly.

They all deserved so much worse.

They all deserved death.

Slow and torturous.

He had disappeared after that night. His brothers knew that this was the end of their leader, of their beloved brother who wanted to believe that good in this world could prevail.

For them they never imagined that Leo would just let the darkness take hold of him, nestle him with such a loving embrace. For him to embrace it right back felt justified, for his brothers it painted the gory picture of things to come.

They never expected to meet him in the opposition. To view him as foe and not family. Leonardo had quickly taken hold of the scum of the earth. He had molded the darkness to serve him.

Raphael thought Shredder was their worst enemy.

He never expected to have Leo claim that spot in a matter of months.

The Foot had fallen under his ruling, and he wasted no time in setting examples, and the bloody path those examples left behind never seized to churn the brothers stomachs.

There was no means of bringing him back, and perhaps it’s for the better.

Because whatever has eaten away inside of Leonardo cannot simply be flushed out of his body, nor ripped from his very soul. The body counts too high by now as he strays further and further away from what he was taught.

From what his father taught him...

_______________

You run with the unsavories. An eat or be eaten mentality that has caused you to survive years and years of gang wars and mutant freaks. Not like you’d throw about that last bit, much less when you’re standing single file, close to pissing yourself because he’s there.

And Christ he’s a sight to behold.

A rumor, a legend, a monster.

You tell him you’ve got valuable info, you know where to follow the trail that’ll lead to success. Even when your partner tries to push his chin up in front of Leonardo, you’re already wincing at what his demise will be shaped in.

Leo really loves cutting heads off.

A strong emphasis on loves.

You swallow, eyes flying anywhere but the rapidly growing puddle of blood that approaches your feet. Even then, your eyes stray towards the newest leader of the Foot, Leo punctures his katana into the head, a crude skewer as he lifts it and examines the severed body part as if answers lie in the gush of blood that falls. Those dark blue eyes move on you, you swallow.

He walks over to you, blade in hand, blood tap tapping onto the ground “Your information” Leo’s voice is weightless, bored almost. You motion towards your pocket, the crumpled up note with a poorly drawn map the key to your salvation. Leo reaches his hand in and you’re still, stiff and frightened by the intrusive touch and his proximity.

He pulls the note out and examines, the ghastly expression of horror on the decapitated head so close you can smell the coppery scent. “Can you get more of this? The coordinantes?” You crane your neck to look at him, his stature imposing. “Yeah, I’m your girl for that shit, swear on it” He flicks the blade and the sound of the head rolling makes your stomach flip flop along with it.

You feel the tip of a bloodied katana on your chin.

“Don’t make me cut off such a pretty head, hm?” You want to nod but the blade digs and Leo’s mouth twitches in something akin to a smirk. The small cut to your chin stings, but you wonder why other parts of you vibrate.

The danger, the adrenaline, Leonardo.

_____________

Your next meeting doesn’t quell your nervousness. Leonardo is an impressive sight as always and it’s imposible to ignore that maybe you won’t make it out alive every time you both meet. Unless proven useful, which you take to heart. You bring all sorts of information, names, rumors, possible gangs wanting to take him on, the police. Any word you heard in regards to him.

“It’s possible they might try to meet you half way, catch you off guard” The warehouse is chilly, that fall weather starting to hit but Leo’s unfazed, the black tails of his mask move with the gust of winds. “Stupid of them to assume that” The second floor of the warehouse seems to be his own, leaving the rest of the crew bellow. He sits on the windowsill, cloth running up his katana, it had been bloody when you were brought in.

“I’m just repeating what I heard, I’m sure you’re more than adept to take them on” You stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket, you’d been frisked not like you were stupid enough to bring a weapon to this.

But then again, the more he polished that sword, the more you wished you had something.

“What else have you heard? Any word on Karai?” The woman in question had appeared to have disappeared into thin air after Shredder’s death and Leo taking command of the Foot soldiers. Wether she planned to reclaim what was hers or if she had simply quit was beyond you and anybody else. “Nothing on her, she might’ve skipped town or the country” You offered, eyes following the sword as Leo placed it on a nearby table.

“She strike you as the type? A coward?” He walked over towards you, his expression so eerily unreadable.

Yet, your eyes wandered over him. Over muscle and scales. Overs scars and bruises. That illogical part of your brain making you wonder and fantasize, because fear could be exciting.

There was something exciting about Leonardo.

“Well?” He was in front of you, looking down at you. It hits you how minuscule you must look to him.

“Probably plotting? You did murder her dad” You find his eyes, you swallow.

“Well he murdered mine. Eye for an eye...” He spoke gently almost.

“Makes the whole world go blind” You finished for him, and maybe that was stepping on a line but you noticed the corner of his mouth twitch up. For a brief second you catch his eyes scan yours, move across your face and settle at your lips.

Passed your neck, towards your breasts.

He turns around and grabs his sword.

“One week, find more info on her, your pay is downstairs” You’re dismissed and before you process anything a Foot soldier is ushering you downstairs and shoving an envelope in your hands.

That night you dream about what your lips might feel like against reptilian scales.

—————————

Karai’s whereabouts are practically unheard off. If there was a trail it had run cold months back and judging from the word of mouth being passed around there wasn’t anything sustainable. You dig up anything and everybody. Every dirt bag with an agenda, ex Foot soldiers, opposing gangs, the mob and just about anybody you have in your radar.

It yields nothing.

You can’t return to Leo with nothing.

Rubbing a hand across your tired face, you make your way through the back alleys of the city. Your one week was coming up and all you had were weak possibilities and baseless assumptions. In your line of business enough information to create doubt can go a long way, but this was conspiracy levels bad.

So you thought and you thought quick.

Pulling out your phone you called him first. Perhaps a dumb move but at the same time you figured it showed that you were trying. You asked if the two of you could meet, the line briefly went quiet before your text tone startled you. He hung up and you were met with the address of a building in Brooklyn and to go up to the roof.

To say you were scared was to put it lightly.

You were shitting yourself.

The roof of the building had a green house which seemed unused but it looked like it was being kept up with the vegetation still green and alive. Your hand made for the door knob but something you could only name as a sixth sense made you freeze.

Leo was there, the shift in the atmosphere was impossible to deny. Your turned and blinked.

Wherever he had been, it must’ve been worse. There was blood on him, a fresh gash by his arm and the steady drip drip of blood hitting the concrete. “Jesus are you...?” You knew he was ok, but whomever had been on the receiving end of this had it by far much worse.

“Inside, go inside” He motioned for the green house and you did. Your eyes scanned around hoping to find something to help with. There was a nest of sorts in a corner, several blankets and cushions, a table and a chair amidst the plants. You found what you were looking for near the bonsais, a shelf with a box of first aid. Leo went towards a counter with a basin and a jar of water, he went about cleaning the gash on his arm.

You approached him with the box of first aid, blue eyes were cautious as you took out antiseptic and gauze. Leo had turned to face you, giving you more room to work on his arm as you bandaged it. “You alright?” Your voice held hesitation, Leo’s questioning gaze turned to amusement. “I’m fine, what I want to know is why you wanted to meet” You finished bandaging him and took a step back.

Pick your words wisely, you thought with a slight shutter.

“Listen I’ve spoken with any and everyone who might have any clue but Karai is off the radar”Swallowing a lump in your throat you shrugged off your jacket, worry manifesting in heat. “I know this isn’t what you wanted and I’m really fucking good at my job but this bitch is either underground or who knows! Dead for all I know!” The exasperation and worry was clear as day, he either took this the right way or the wrong way.

Wrong way being you end up pushed off this very building, at best ironically enough.

Leo swallowed the information, clearly bouncing it around his head. The dry specks of blood scattered across his green flesh. An odd silence fell amongst you both and even when he rose in all his imposing glory you kept your eyes focused on him. Getting a read on that cold calculated gaze of his was hard enough.

Your throat feels painfully dry once he has you backed up against the wall. Something about dying alone with not even an audience to witness it didn’t sit too right with you.

But then again, Leo’s large hand gripped your neck, nothing too tight but enough to alert you to its presence. Those blue eyes looked haunted but just beneath that laid something you couldn’t just place your finger on. The tips of his fingers lightly caressed you, one of them fascinated with your quickened pulse. You can’t blink, unsure what may happen and when he dips down your adrenaline makes you flinch.

Leo halts his movement, his blood feels like it’s pumping loudly enough for you to hear. Wide eyed you lean up instead and ghost your lips against his, Leo sighs through his nostrils and it stays that way. A pull but not enough of a push because there’s still fear in your blood and a hesitation that you can’t put a name to from Leonardo.

Your phone going off startles you, nearly making you jump out of your skin and to a fraction of your dismay Leo takes a step away. One of your contacts name flashed on the screen which meant there could still be some good news. Your turned away to speak, pulling a marker from your pocket you write down some information on your forearm. It’s a quick conversation and once done you turn to see Leo putting together his gear again.

You bit your lip, whatever was about to happen would just have to take a back seat. ‘Fucking coward’ you can’t help but think about yourself.

“One of my guys says he might have it on good authority that Karai is still here” You watch him turn his head to listen, even if he’s got his back/shell to you. “Well?” He pushes while adjusting his swords.

“He says she might’ve just met up with...with one of your brothers” Tense doesn’t even begin to explain what his body did, the mear mention of his family was a sore subject and you had been warned to not even attempt to open that can of worms. Swallowing and feeling your throat stick from how dry it felt you see him pull out a key and toss it to you. “Send me that address, you’ll get your money at the warehouse” You barely manage to catch the key to the greenhouse, but still you raise a brow at the offering.

“Come back here when you’re ready” Is all he says about it, confusion is painted on your face but when he moved to leave he takes a moment to hold your chin. “Don’t make me regret this” He says and before you can attempt to ask he’s gone.

You stay there, twenty minutes or so in nothing but your thoughts and his words swimming around your mind.

Feeling heat between your legs and a lick of frustration consuming you.

_____________

Two weeks you contemplate the key in your pocket.

Two weeks you let your thumb hover over his number but never press down.

For two weeks you find your pillow between your legs, trying to reach the sensation he managed with just his body close to yours.

But nothing.

It’s not enough.

New York is covered in rain as you make your way through the sea of people. Regardless of the many umbrellas you still get soaked and by the time you’re up on that roof, hand digging out the key to the green house you’re drenched.

Inside you shake off the excess and remove your jacket. The cold hits you and you can’t help but feel silly that you’re here, maybe this is his way of taking you out, you’re not needed anymore by now you assume.

You turn on the few lanterns that are scattered through the room. Kicking off your boots you rub your arms and shiver, flesh breaking out into goosebumps as the door creaks open once more.

Leo’s equally drenched when he steps through, the black tails of his mask sticking to him. The two of you just stare at one another, steady drips of water and the rain outside picking up more strengh.

Carefully you watch him begin take apart his gear, leaving his katanas by the door. He’s trying to keep your apprehension at low levels, his steps slow and soft. You let your arms fall to your sides and as your heart tries to hammer out of your chest you don’t flinch this time, even as his hands go for the hem of your long sleeve. You take a deep breath as his eyes wander across your now exposed flesh. The fascination goes straight to your core, feeling yourself warm up as his hands rest on your stomach.

With trembling hands you unbutton your jeans and step out of them and the inhale Leo takes as he closes his eyes makes you reach for him. He holds you against him and sighs, large frame shuddering at the feel of your skin against his reptilian one. He buries his snout against your neck, breathing harder as his hands run all over your back and rear. Leo grips and kneads the flesh and a groan escapes against your ear that makes your wrap your arms around his neck. He feels the softness of your breasts against his chest, he’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t been dreaming about them for months now.

You can’t wrap your head around it but he feels just as you fantasized about him. The roughness of his flesh, the edges of his shell and god his teeth nip at your neck with a growl. Wiggling out of his hold you start to undo whatever else needs to be taken off and Leo can’t help but smirk at your frenzied movements. He allows you to undress him, he’s gutted when your hands land on his waist as you start to kneel before him.

“No, no, kiss me first” He cups your face and presses his mouth against yours and that’s it, you’re done for, you’re hooked and can’t go back now. His kiss is possessive, forceful and it drowns every thought in your brain.

You pressed against one of the tables with the many Bonsais when Leo’a tongue slithers into your awaiting mouth. He sits you down on the table and nudges your legs apart to fit himself in between them, you crane your neck up losing yourself in his kiss. He can taste rain water, feels the sweat and rain mingle on your skin. God he wants to run his tongue all over you, eat you whole if he could.

It feels like forever when he pulls away, reluctance in his body. Blue eyes search into your e/c eyes, he wants to see something maybe your fear so he denies himself falling into this rabbit hole. Your hands press against his plastron and gently you run your nails down the hard plates, you shake your head fascinated by the texture. He’s rough but strong, a marvel of a species.

With some difficulty you managed to push your underwear off and spread yourself again for his viewing pleasure. “I want you,” You nodded, eyes falling to the hard length between his legs. Leo wraps a large hand around it and pumps slowly, body shivering at the sensation. “God I fucking want you so bad” You feel him come back to you, mouth on yours in yet another harsh kiss.

The tip of his cock nudges against your wet heat and he bites your lip at the sensation. Leo pushes into you so frustratingly slow, even as his girth stretches you to a point you’ve never been before. You want him inside of you now, and Leo couldn’t agree more. He bottoms out inside of you with a lengthy groan, head thrown back in ecstasy. “You feel... so fucking good” He growls out through gritted teeth, hips picking up speed as you wantonly take him in. You press your lips to his chest and moan with each slow but pronounced thrust of his hips.

His hand finds itself at the back of your head, grabbing fistfuls of your hair to keep your gaze on his. The slight tug burns so good and you can’t help but keep your pleasure filled gaze on his own. Lips parted you let him rock into you steadily until his thrust start to slam into you. The sensation spreads all over your body, little shocks of pleasure rocking your body.

“Mine, you’re going to be mine and only mine” He voices lowly, a threat laced in his passion. You’re too far gone to speak, nodding aimlessly at his every word, moans falling from your lips. “Nobody will own you like I do, nobody will touch you, Y/N? You understand? I’m making you mine” He pressed his forehead to yours, lost in this feeling.

“Fuck yes, yours, I’m gonna be all yours” You lick his lips and when he reaches a hand between both your bodies your mind goes blank. A vicious shudder overtakes you as you muffle a scream against his jaw. He fills you up so good and so warm with a strange vibration that sounds like an endless growl. Each rope he pumps into you making his eyes roll back. You’re shattered against, limp and raw throat from the scream that leaves your mouth.

He watches your come down, hand against your cheek, thumb running across your lips. When he pulls out just enough to watch his essence cascade out of your pretty little hole, he pumps himself back into you. His eyes say it all, from here on out whatever your life was up to this point is over and done with. Leo nuzzles you still lazily pumping himself in you, blissful to the little tremors your cunt produces around his member making him harden once again. Picking you up, bodies still joined, he makes his way to the nest of blankets on the floor.

You hold onto him, all you can do is hold onto him.

____________

It’s rather odd to be in this position. With an entire year that’s passed it never seems to feel normal, not that you’re complaining though.

Being in a position of power by proxy has its fucking fun rewards.

For example nobody in this city will ever contemplate taking you out. Unless they want a very pissed off Foot Leader to set fire to the city and maybe even the world. From opposite points to now standing at his side. No one is to address you as below them, or touch you or let alone breath the same air you do.

You can still hear the bones that were cracked when one particularly unruly Foot soldier made snide comment about you. Each crack of the mans arm being slowly twisted until his arm broke still rang in your ears to this day. Leo hadn’t flinched, hadn’t even scowled even as the twist turned to pulling the limb off.

He did in fact fuck you hard against the glass windows of the hotel suite he had you both in. The copper scent lingering on his scales, but enraptured with the heat enveloping his cock.

With the city at war everyone had began to run amok to do their own barbaric things. Each part of the city divided between gangs, mobs, mutants, police and civilians. You were out on active Foot duties, you were still free to do as you pleased but with protection and Leo demanded your whereabouts on the hour due to possibilities of abduction.

He knew you were a weakness.

But did he give a shit? Of course not. Let them try, he hasn’t needed an excuse for his tyrannical acts thus far, but if harm did ever befall you, you only wished you could witness what his methods would be to exact his revenge.

And he was so familiar with revenge after all.

You admire yourself in the full length mirror, examining the body that training under Leo has provided you. The mutant terrapin in question comes up from behind you and wraps his strong sculpted arms around your waist. You can’t help but smirk as he rest his chin a top your head. “We’re heading out in half an hour” He mumbles against your hair, enjoying the scent. You watch through the mirror as his hands rub up and cup your breast, with a sigh you rest against his strong build. “What’s on the agenda tonight? Purple dragons?” You feel him shake his head, fingers dipping inside the cups of your bra. “Mob,” Is his sole reply.

You bite your lip, gripping his wrists. “We’ll be late” You try to muffle a moan as he tweaks a nipple, he grinds against your backside. “I’m killing them regardless, and I much rather have the scent of your cunt on my hands while I listen to their boring excuses for parley” Your knees buckled when you felt his hand slither inside your underwear, finger already parting your lips and humming as he feels how wet you already are.

You feel his other hand wrap around your neck, keeping you upright and your gaze on the mirror as his finger dips into your welcoming heat.

He engulfs your every thought, every sensation; and what’s the fate of the world when you’ve got him? He chose you just as much as you chose him. You’ve never considered yourself good, scumbag street rat who just happened to make a living amongst the other scumbags. But this? With Leonardo and the trail of bloodied heads he’s left behind, it’s hard not to be excited to see gasoline be poured on the city. He trails his lips to the shell of your ear and you can’t help but grin.

“Mine” He says.

Burn everything.

[donutloverxo]

Stevie's new beard

*gif by @marvelheroes*

Birthday shot #2 & Kinktober day 8 - Beard kink

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - You have some strong feelings about Steve’s new look.

Warnings - 18+ only please, smut(m/f), dom Steve, daddy kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x female reader

Word count - 2.5k

Masterlists are linked in the bio!

One more swift turn over the corner, your eyes squinting as you tried to concentrate, “That’ll show him,” grumbling under your breathe, pressing the scissors down, “done.” With a smirk on your face.

You had been working on cutting out Steve’s face from your honeymoon album. An album you had spent hours on, your blood, sweet and tears, literally, you must’ve gotten like five paper cuts working on it. But none of that mattered. You were mad.

No, you were fuming.

The previous year, you hadn’t been able to celebrate your birthday with Steve since he was called on an emergency mission. Which was fine at the time you had only been dating for a few weeks. And when he went to Siberia over a month ago, you thought he’d be back for your birthday for sure. Then you’d get to have him pamper you and baby you for the whole day, not that you needed such an excuse, but still.

It was one in the morning, your birthday had already started and you doubted that Steve would be able to make it. He had gone silent a week ago, for his teams and your safety.

Well, by the time he’s back you’ll have cut him out of all your pictures. Maybe you’d even go stay at your sister’s for a while. You missed her and needed a vacation and teach Steve a lesson. You wouldn’t be back until he’s growling on his knees - begging for your forgiveness.

Or maybe... he wouldn’t care. Maybe he’d be glad that you’re gone. You didn’t know what you’d do if that happened, you always seem to be weighing him down. You understood that being married to Captain America meant that you had to share him with the rest of the world. Most of times, you were alright with that. You didn’t care much for the Captain, he was fine but he was no Steve Rogers.

You sighed, giving up on your little project, thinking about maybe calling it a night. Hopefully your friends remember your birthday and do something special for you.

Slipping into Steve’s t-shirt – because as much as you were mad at him, you really did miss him. This was the longest you had been away from him.

Fluffing your pillow, keeping Mister Steebie next to you, you climbed on top of it. Ready to switch off the lights -

“Hey there, sweetheart,” you gasped when you heard the low rumble, clutching your neck, taken aback and panting.

Taking a deep breathe, you looked at your door over your shoulder, sighing when you noticed it’s Steve.

Except it wasn’t...?

“What the fuck?” you frowned and did a double take.

Getting off your bed and walking over to the door. He was still dressed in his dark stealth suit, his dirty blonde hair swept back, his jaw covered in a thick beard - a few shades darker than his hair.

You stopped a few steps away from him, taking in his new look. You didn’t know what to make of it but it did make you shiver - for some reason.

Your lips pressed in a flat line as you stared at him. He spread his arms out, in an attempt to hug you, probably, trying to close the distance between you but you took a step back. Eyeing him suspiciously.

“What’s wrong, doll?” he tilted his head to the side, giving you his Disney eyes.

“What’s wrong with your face?” you spat.

“What do you mean?” his eyebrows scrunched together as he rubbed a hand over his beard.

“Don’t do that!” you admonished him, folding your hands under your titts, perking them up.

“Do what?” scratching his beard, “You’re not making any sense, doll. Didn’t you miss me?”

“I did,” you huffed, “Do you know what date it is?”

“Yes, I do know. That’s why I’m here. I got back as soon as the mission wrapped up. Now come here and let me give you a birthday kiss,” extending an arm towards you.

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head.

“Why?” he pouted. “I made it back in time, just like I said I would. I missed you, come on just one kiss... wait a minute. Is this about the beard?” You nodded. “You hate it? Tony said you would, I just didn’t have time to shave. I’ll go do it now then.” Since he was desperate for kisses and cuddles.

“No, don’t!” You pressed a palm on his chest, in an effort to stop him. “I mean, sure if you want to... but I don’t hate it. It’s kind of the opposite... I think. I just need time to process this.”

“Doll,” he exasperated, sighing, 'politely’ trying to tell you off. “I’m tired. And you’re really not making any sense.”

“I just fucking love your beard, ok!” you snapped. Your cheeks heating up at the brash confession. Clenching your thighs together. You shouldn’t like it as much as you did. It hides Steve’s beautiful face and makes him look so feral and dangerous. So not Steve.

“Really?” he quirked a brow, pulling you flush against his chest, “how much do you like it, puppy?”

“I - I don’t know...” Still embarrassed, you hide your face over his heart, rubbing your cheek against the rough kevlar of his suit. “I like it a lot, I think. Please keep it?”

He hummed, “But you won’t even look at me.”

“It’s a lot to take in, okay? It’s like, ugh remember when you saw me in my wedding dress?”

He'd never forget, he had cried like a baby. “This is nothing like that,” he rolled his eyes.

“It’s... give me some time. Small steps.” Bringing up a shaky hand to touch his soft fuzzy jaw, “Oh! Remember that time I bought that forties style nightie. And you went to town on me?” looking up at him, “This is like that.”

He nodded, finally understanding. “I get it, doll. But I’m afraid I don’t have time for ‘small steps’. I missed you so much,” Rutting his erection into your belly - as if to physically prove it. “And I need to make your birthday special. Treat the birthday girl right, huh?” He pressed his thumb on your cheekbone, caressing it, dipping his neck down to kiss you but you pulled away.

You hugged him again, standing on your tippy toes and nuzzling your nose in the crook his neck, his beard tickling you ever so slightly.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it. That I’d be all alone.” You whined. And then he comes back looking this good! Making it impossible for you to stay mad at him.

“Of course, I made it. Couldn’t let my best girl be alone. Now let me kiss you,” you shook your head again, “fine then. We can do your small steps. Let me eat you out,” biting the shell of your ear, “I’m hungry, doll.”

There was no way you could say no to that. “Oh - okay,” you gulped a huge lump of air.

Suddenly, he swept you off your feet, throwing you over his shoulder, his hand kneading your ass before smacking it, “Missed this sweet ass too.” he said, throwing you on top of the mattress. “I like this shirt on you, pup,” he smiled, his heart swelled as he felt strangely possessive of you, hovering above you, “But it had to come off.”

With a lack of finesse, his greedy hands ripped the poor clothing to shreds. He hadn’t gone so long without you. He needed to be inside you as soon as he could.

“Stevie!” You tried to chastise him.

He threw the shirt away, growling at the sight of your naked breasts, your hard pebbles, your hands coming up to cover them from his dark eyes. That won’t do, he pulled them away, pinning them beside your head. “What do you think you’re doing?” he frowned

You shuddered. Really, a beard shouldn’t make that much of a significant difference but it made him all the more intimidating. “Sorry, daddy.” You pouted. If nothing else, the D-word always worked.

He shook his head, capturing a nipple in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. He made sure to run his beard over your breast. Letting go of your twisting hand as it clenched on the back of his head. Your back arching, pushing more your body to him.

With a loud ‘pop’ he let go of your hard nub, shoving two fingers in your mouth and ordering you to suck and like he obedient doll you were - you followed.

He pulled his fingers out, snaking his hand between your legs, dipping them in your heat. Then he noticed it and frowned.

Looking to his side, a sack of flour? No, looked fluffy enough to be cotton. “What is this?” he wanted to know.

You were too far gone to even register his words but you vaguely heard him. You bit your lip, following his eyes. “Oh, that’s Mister Steebie.”

“What?”

“That’s you. I missed you and I needed a cuddle buddy. So I stuffed some cotton in a sack, dressed him in your flannel and drew your face on him.”

His 'face' was just two dots with a blue sharpie, golden hair on his head and a pink mouth. “It’s cute.” he chuckled, grabbing ‘Steebie' and putting him on the floor, “But you don’t need him. You have the real thing now,” he reminded you, trailing kisses down your body, pushing your thighs apart to make room for him and settling between them.

“I suppose I should upgrade him now. Draw the beard on. I wonder if I have a brown sharpie,” you mused, yelping when you felt his teeth grazing over your clit. “God!” you heaved, propping yourself up on your elbows you looked down at him. A few strands of his hair had fallen on his forehead, he looked ethereal. “You’re so pretty, Stevie.” Your hand caressing his face.

He leaned into it, having been touch starved for over a month. “You’re the pretty one, pup. Now, will you be good for me? Let me treat my birthday girl right?”

You nodded. Laying back down, running your fingers through his longer locks.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” he asked

“No, I followed your rules.”

“Good, I didn’t either.” Not that he had the time or space to anyway. But he wanted to save himself for you.

“Thor told me, women like a nice thick beard,” rubbing his face on your inner thighs, “he’s a bit of an oversharer. But I knew you’d like it too. Guess I was right.” He was smug about it too. He knew you inside and out. More than anybody else, maybe more than you know yourself.

He pushed your thighs apart as you squirmed above him, trying to clamp them on his head. “Now, sweetheart. I thought you promised to be good. Do I need to tie you up?”

You furiously shook your head. “No, please! I’ll be good.” Normally, you’d love to be tied up. But you needed to touch him, his face and his hair.

“I know it’s hard, pup, just try a little harder,” He tongue nudging at your entrance. His fingers spreading your lips apart, “such a pretty pussy,” he praised.

Wrapping his mouth around your clit and pushing his fingers in your pussy. He made sure to gather as much of your slick over his beard as he could, to make a mess of it.

You threw your head back, trying your best to stay still, it was too overwhelming, too good, “Stevie! Stop, stop please,” you begged, pulling on his hair.

He immediately pulled away, hovering back over you, inspecting you for any distress.

“I want to come with you inside me. Please.” you said, fluttering your lashes.

He sighed, “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Come on! It’s my birthday. You have to do as I say,” you giggled.

“As you wish,” he shook his head. He would’ve given in even if it wasn’t your birthday.

His fingers scrambling to get his dick out of his suit. Kissing your neck, sucking on your special spot, he pushed inside you. Digging his fingers in your hips, he bit your neck, “So fucking tight, doll.” He groaned, he was at the end of his rope, he couldn’t take it anymore, snapping his hips with a swift thrust he buried himself inside you.

“Stevie,” you mewled, feeling his tip pressing against your special spot. “Right there!”

Pulling his cock out and then pushing back, “Here?” he wiggled his hips, pressing his lips to your jaw.

“Yeah,” you gave a shaky reply. Already on the edge as he kept ramming in on your g-spot. “Steve, kiss me please?” You needed to feel his lips on yours, to feel his beards on your face.

Circling a hand under your waist to pull you up and closer to him, his hips setting a punishing pace, he crashed his lips on yours. Clashing your teeth together. He moaned as you pulled his bottom lip with your teeth, before kissing him again.

Letting go of his lips, just for a second to pepper kisses all over his beard and then kissing him deeply.

You clenched around his length, pulling his hair, biting the hilt to his jaw to stifle your scream. Waves of pleasure crashing over you one after another.

He came right after you, with a few more thrusts, filling you to the brim. He collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you.

He laid beside you, on his side your bodies still connected. He couldn’t have any of his spend escaping your tight cunt.

He kissed the crown of your head. “You liked your first gift?” he asked as you hummed. “Don’t worry, I got plenty more for you.” he smirked already feeling himself get hard again in your pussy.

When you were quiet for a while, so unusual for you, your fingers playing with his beard, “What’s wrong, pup?” He tilted your face up so he could see it.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. Suddenly feeling guilty for ruining your precious pictures. “They need you more than I ever will - your team and this world.”

“That’s... true. You don’t need me. You’re a strong woman, if anything I need you. But that’s a good thing, sweetheart. You want me. And that's enough for me.”

“Really?” Your lips curling up in a big grin as you nuzzled his beard, feeling awfully proud of yourself.

Steve’s heart was big enough to share him with the entire world. That he could still love you more than you could even begin to comprehend. And always make his way back to you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

[norahastuff]

the unrequited love thing just bothers me so much. No-one had any issues seeing Cas/Hannah as a valid ship in the show when Cas wasn't even really interested in her. We've had a decade worth of romantic signals from Dean, but somehow destiel is unrequited. such a goddamn tragedy that they couldn't find their way back to each other one last time when that is their whole ~dynamic~

Yes, all of this. Exactly. Honestly, it’s been so frustrating to keep hearing the word unrequited thrown around so much lately. What about this dynamic has ever seemed unrequited? I’ve done this before but I’ve been really annoyed about it lately so should we make a list?

What about Dean feeling so personally betrayed by Cas in The Man Who Would Be King? Or Sam and Bobby walking on eggshells around Dean and taking care to very delicately approach bringing up the possibility of Cas doing something shady because they knew how hard Dean was going to take it? They knew it would be different for him than it would be for both of them.

Or how about Dean keeping Cas’ trenchcoat, and not only keeping it - he could have stashed it at Bobby’s or left it in the trunk of the Impala - but no he kept it with him, moved it from car to car. And this isn’t a last-minute development that they decided to throw into 7x17 when Cas returned, we see glimpses of the coat in other episodes before this, a consistent reminder that Dean’s carrying it around with him. That losing Cas is weighing on him.

How about Dean wondering why he could usually get over things but for some reason with Cas he couldn’t and he just didn’t know why. 

For that matter...do you think there is anybody else that Dean would forgive for hurting Sam? For betraying him? Sure Dean is mad at Cas but more than anything he wanted to fix things. Despite everything, he needed Cas to be a part of his life. 

How about that time Dean spent a year in purgatory looking for Cas, praying to him every night? In Dean’s mind, Sam is out there alone doing God knows what trying to get him back. I mean Sam didn’t, he’d let Dean go, but Dean assumed he was still looking. And yet Dean didn’t go back to Sam even though he could. He stayed for a year looking for Cas. Because he needed to. He needed him. Purgatory was pure remember? Dean had clarity there. He understood his wants, needs, and emotions.

Or you know just that one little thing about how Dean changed his own memories of what happened when he got separated from Cas because the thought of failing Cas was less painful than the idea that Cas would choose to stay in purgatory instead of leaving with him.

“We need you. I need you.” You know all about this one, I don’t need to say more.

The angels knowing exactly what would hurt Dean, knowing how much he cared about Cas and using that against him: 

“The very touch of you corrupts. When Castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost!” 

“I know you’re hoping Castiel will return to you. I only wish that he felt the same way.”

Miriam: Bieber in there he can do almost anything. Dean: Anything? (and for the first time since Cas died we see Dean experience a moment of hope...and then...) Miriam: Oh sweetie, almost anything. Castiel he’s dead, all the way dead, because of you.

Dean staring wistfully at Cas through a Gas n Sip window for god knows how long. Actually you know what, that whole episode. 

Cas being Dean’s Colette. That’s not subtext. You can argue with the execution, but the parallel was spelled out. And actually for that matter in Chuck’s drafts or alternate futures/ timelines or whatever that he was showing Sam, Dean was the one who was broken after losing Cas to the Mark of Cain, Dean was the one who had to bury him in Ma’lak box. Dean was the one who had to stop him. So I mean not only was Cas Dean’s Colette, but Dean was Cas’ Colette too.

Dean reacting very differently than Sam to Cas’ decision to say yes to Lucifer. Dean’s worry. Dean desperately calling out to Cas over and over again to try reach him and get him to eject Lucifer. Dean resisting Amara for Cas. Lucifer and Amara being very surprised by this. Amara using Cas to try to get to Dean. 

Dean’s very different reactions to all things Cas in s12. This one would need it’s own post, but let’s just say there was a lot of focus on Dean and Cas in s12 and most of it was on how intensely Dean felt for Cas. 

Dean made him a Led Zeppelin mixtape. And then proceeded to get mad at himself for letting Cas use it to come into his room and play him. Which isn’t exactly what happened (though it sort of is) but that’s exactly what went down from Dean’s perspective, and that kind of move would only work if Dean truly cared about Cas. Going into someone’s room and playing on their feelings for you by using a romantic gift they gave you, only works if that person has feelings for you that can be played with.

12x23. Sam having to pull Dean away from Cas at the rift because Dean was intent on chasing after Cas. Dean falling to his knees by Cas’ body unable and unwilling to think about anything else and leaving Sam to face the nephilim. Sam knowing better than to even try to move Dean.

Widower arc. I would elaborate but do I need to?

And finally all of their arc in s15. No part of that was one sided. 

I actually can’t believe we have to keep having this conversation. Before it seemed like we kept having to somehow “prove” there was a romantic element to Dean and Cas’ relationship. Now that they have explicitly stated in canon that there is, the conversation seems to have shifted to how it’s one sided. Look I’m as frustrated as anyone that Dean didn’t get to say anything, but we never considered their relationship one sided before. That’s certainly not what I saw in the show.  Dude pines after his totes str8 bro friend who’s not into him is not a story I would have had any interest in. Looking at that long list above does it seem like it was one sided?

Whatever Cas felt for Dean, Dean felt it too. This has never seemed like a one sided narrative. Like you said just because the last page of the story was ripped out/wasn’t written (ie whatever you think went down) it doesn’t invalidate years upon years of consistent relationship building and emotional growth. Their story is incomplete not erased.

(And in relation to the Cas and Hannah of it all, a while back I did get curious and look that up, and you’re right. People had no problem with thinking of Cas and Hannah as romantic - when she was played by Erica Carroll. When Hannah returned in a male vessel, both Misha and the new actor Lee Majdoub played their relationship exactly the same way, the same heart eyes, the same gentle touches and soft spoken appreciation, but no one seemed to want to discuss Cas and Hannah’s romantic connection anymore. For reasons. Whatever could they be? I’m putting this in brackets though because I don’t have the sources on that and I have no intention of trawling through reddit/entertainment review sites/wherever I checked last time to find them. I do not have that in me. So there’s a chance I could be mistaken and people did discuss it, in which case I’d love to be proven wrong. Anyway that’s why this point is just at the end in brackets)

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

But What If, Instead

Decided to give a go to posting my horribly named but hopefully very fun Beetlejuice fic to tumblr as well. This is an au where BJ is adopted by the Deetz family at a young age.

He’s twelve when he’s left on his own in the upperworld.

He doesn’t know he’s twelve, because he’s never celebrated a birthday, but that timeline seems to fit, later, when he thinks back on it. So he’s twelve. His mother has promised him a special treat that day, and though he’s skeptical to trust her, he follows her quietly through the door she’s drawn, the bone white stick of chalk a blaring contrast to the dark hallways of the netherworld reception office. She’d knocked, and the drawing was more than a drawing, suddenly, with white light and noise spilling through into his little corner of hell as it opened, and when he steps through, Betelgeuse sees blue skies and green grass for the first time in his unlife. He’d turned back to look at Juno, confused, curious, his big orange snake eyes watching her, waiting for the catch, for her to yank him back and punish him for being naive, and trusting her, but all the demoness had done was billow smoke from her slit throat, and nod encouragingly to him. He takes another step, and another and another, and suddenly he’s running and laughing and jumping and the air up here is different, but good, and he takes breaths he doesn't need because it feels nice, and he turns to her again to try and entice her to play with him- And the door is gone. He stands there, staring at the nothingness where she and it had been, and realization hits him hard, because he’s twelve, and he’s been left on his own.

He doesn't cry, both because he can’t, and because he knows it won’t change anything. It doesn’t take him long to find them. Pre ghosts. Breathers. Humans. The place is lousy with them, and the smell of them irritates his sensitive nose. He’s a dumb kid, sure, but he’s got some survival instincts, so he hides from them as they go about their lives, strolling around this place, completely oblivious to the little demon now crashing their dimension. Breathers look so weird, all flushed with blood and bright eyed and hearts beating, no signs of death or rot or decay on them. It’s a lot to ask a kid to get used to. The ghosts back home, the ones workin in Ma’s office, tell him stories about the world up here, sometimes, usually in exchange for him going away, and leaving them the hell alone. (Their words) If there was one thing he learned from them, it was that humans, living or dead, didn’t like things that were strange or unusual. He wanders the wilds of wherever he is for an hour before he finds a body of water, and stooping to peer into it, takes a look at himself.

His skin is pale, but not pink. The undercolor is purple, maybe, which he would have thought would be close enough, but compared to the living, breathing people walking around this place, he knows is too different. There’s not much he can do about that. His hair is a bushy mess, sticking up all over the place, but at least the color is currently green. It’s the eyes, teeth, and ears that really stand out. Yellow snake-like slits stare back at him, long pointed ears flick in the direction of distant sounds, and when he tries to smile down at his reflection, those too many too sharp teeth are all he can see. He’s not the best at magic, yet, mostly using it to play pranks around the office (and hey, maybe that’s why Ma left him here in the first place?) but he does what he can. He throws a glamour over himself, and it’s far from perfect, but the three big problems are taken care of. He looks more human than he did a minute ago, at least, and that’s something.

He’s less afraid to take the main paths, after that, and with that worry out of the way, he finds himself enjoying the afternoon again. So, ma left him here. So what? She’s done him a favor, probably the first she’s ever done anybody, because now he doesn't have to be around her just as much as she doesn’t have to be around him. It’s a win-win, Betelgeuse thinks stubbornly, trotting along the winding pathways lined with benches and garbage cans and other silly human things. He’s starting to get a bit tired of all the green when he reaches, quite unexpectedly, the end of it. There’s a big arched sign, and he can’t understand the language written over head, even though he’s squinting and tilting his head. Someone at some point had sat him down and tried to teach him letters, and he’d gotten far enough to read through the first page of the Handbook, but then that person had been reassigned, and was gone, and no one had cared to keep teaching him.

He’s holding his hands up at his sides, rubbing his red tipped claws against the palms of his hands, top teeth biting over his bottom lip, head tilted to one side in an extreme, when he hears a snort and then a soft giggle.

There’s a woman standing in front of him. Her hair is a sunny yellow color, but her clothing is dark and dramatic, and there are roosting bats dangling from her ears. She’s laughing at him. They stare at each other for a long moment, her hand raised in front of her mouth, her eyes crinkled pleasantly at the corners, and he finally breaks the silence by pointing at the sign, and speaking. “Wazzat say?” She blinks in surprise at his grating little voice, and then glances back at the sign. “Krap Lartnec,” she tells him. “Which is flipped around and backwards for “Central Park.” He’s been staring at the sign the wrong way. Of course. He feels his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “Oh. Got it. Park. Right, yeah.” She lets out another laugh, and it’s so different from the sounds his mother makes when she’s guffawing at him, shaming him, that it almost doesn’t register as a laugh at first. There’s no cruelty to it, just amusement, and maybe curiosity. “Are you here alone?” she asks him, and he shrugs easily. “I guess.” She moves closer to him, cautiously, like he’s going to bite her, or bolt, but he doesn’t really feel the need to be worried over one breather. He knows he could rip out her throat if he needs to. The glamour only hides his demonic features, not takes them away. He’s still plenty capable of taking care of himself. “Where are your parents?” She's crouched down next to him now, one knee on the pavement, big brown eyes all sweet and worried, and he shrugs again. “Don’t have a dad. Mom’s downstairs.” She squints at that, and he gestures down with a pointed red claw tip. “Ya know. Downstairs.” The way he emphasizes it is meaningful, and when her eyes show understanding, he assumes she gets it. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” “Don’t be. I’m havin’ a good time.”

That doesn’t seem to be what she expects, but she just nods thoughtfully. “Are you staying someplace?” He can’t, for the undeath of him, figure out why she’s asking, and why she cares. He shrugs again, because things feel better in threes, and says vaguely, “I guess I’m stayin’ here.” That also doesn’t seem to be a good answer. “You can’t stay in the park overnight. There’s creeps around here.” He bites back the urge to explain that he’s the creepiest thing here, because suddenly she’s taking his hand, and she feels cool to the touch. “Good god, kiddo, you’re burning up!” she puts her other hand on his forehead, all the play gone from her voice, clearly concerned. “You might have a fever. Listen…” she worries her bottom lip with her teeth, smudging the dark color there, before she makes a decision. “Why don’t you come home with me? I’ll give you something to eat, make sure you’re alright, and we’ll figure out what to do from there, okay?” He isn’t sick, and he’s pretty sure he can’t get sick. It’s the hellfire in his veins that makes him hot, because he’s not like her, not even close, but the idea of following her seems like a fine one to him, so he just nods. “Kay. You got bugs where you live?” She snorts again, and stands, brushing off her dark, rose patterned tights. “Sure, what New York apartment doesn’t have a few roaches lurking around. You like bugs?” “Yeah, I like em. They’re crunchy an’ they skitter around an’ stuff.” “Yeah,” she agrees, nodding thoughtfully. “Bugs kick ass.” It’s his turn to snort, and then laugh, because she’d sounded so serious that it strikes him as funny. His hand is still in her’s, and she gives it a squeeze. “What’s your name, little buddy?” “Betelguese.” He expects a pause, or a comment, because no newly dead has ever heard his name without wrinkling their nose and looking vaguely sick, but her smile just grows wider. “Far out. I’m Emily.” And hand in hand, they leave the park.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Beetlejuice decides quickly Emily might be the nicest breather who ever breathed. It’s a decision he makes only moments after they’ve left the park. Normally he’d be talking, and talking a lot, and his ma might throw something at him, a curse or a bottle, to try and shut him up. So he’s giving silence a try, here, even though it feels like it hangs like a weight around his neck. But Emily is the one instead filling the silence with sound, and he’s never had such unfiltered attention from an adult before. She’s talking about the park, then his hair, then his name, and everything she says is just… sunshine. She likes his hair. She likes his name. She even likes the loose fitting and filthy black and white striped shirt he’s got on, she says it’s deadlyvoo, whatever the hell that means, but it must be good, because Emily said it.

They’re walking down the street, his little hand still in her’s, when a smell hits his sensitive nose. It’s unlike anything he’s ever smelled before and if he wasn't tethered to her, he would have floated after it. As it is, he does feel his feet lift off the ground briefly, and he has to remind his body to obey gravity, before someone notices. Luckily, Emily only sees part of his reaction, namely the way he’s sniffing the air like a dog and drooling. “Hotdogs!” she grins, and she leads him over towards the smell before he can even ask what that word means.

There’s a little cart set up, and a short, fat woman is fussing over a fire. He quickly finds the source of the smell, those little weird shapes of meat she’s turning over, and he goes to reach for one, only stopped by Emily’s other hand over his. “Not so fast, little bug. To unlock lunch, you need the power of capitalism.” She nods gravely. He nods back, clueless, but after a moment he has the source of the smell in his hands, and he wastes no time in scarfing it down. It’s good. He wants more, instantly, and tugs at her sleeve. Emily has hardly put her wallet away before it’s back out again, and she’s bought two more hotdogs. He eats them just as quickly, but before he can ask for more he realizes she’s led him away from the woman and her meats and her fire. Clever breather.

The walk to her home isn’t so bad, and it gives him time to take in his surroundings. The park had been jarring enough- what little plants grow in the netherworld are perpetually gray and withered, sad little scraggly weeds that struggle and choke each other out for the privilege of what miniscule sunshine permeates through the perpetual overcast. But there’s enough sunlight and water and everything to go around here, and it all grows green and vibrant. The city feels the same way, sort of. Like there’s plenty of space to stretch out and grow, and so they did. In the netherworld, everything is short and cramped, but bigger on the inside, with long, winding hallways meant to confuse and trap the dead. The buildings here are so tall looking up at them makes him dizzy, but he hardly has time to admire them before Emily is guiding him this way and that, and finally, to another door. She presses a button and they’re let inside, and he experiences another first as they ride the elevator up a few floors.

They ride the first few floors up in relative silence, until - “Get ready to jump!” Emily says suddenly, crouching, and he follows her lead, and jumps when she does. There’s a brief moment of weightlessness before gravity catches up with them, and their feet hit the elevator floor again, in time for the doors to open. “Good job, Beetlejuice!” she praises, pushing that long sun colored hair out of her face, and he beams up at her. “Feels like flyin, kinda!” “Right?” she enthuses loudly, and he’s about to ask her how a breather knows what flying feels like, but a door down the hall opens, and the biggest man Betelguese has ever seen steps out. “Thought I heard you rattling the elevator,” he’s chiding Emily, who only gives her snort and smile in return. “Lydia isn’t even with you, do you really play that game when you’re-” his eyes fall on Betelgeuse. “Alone?”

“Charles, I made a new friend!” Emily tells him simply, leading the little demon into their apartment. The interior is dim, but he can see fine. He knows his amber eyes are glowing a little in the gloom, and he closes them, just for a moment, as Emily leads him down the hall and into a sunny, well lit kitchen. The big man, Charles, is tailing behind, looking mystified. “Where on earth did you find him?” a hint of nerves creeps into the breather’s voice. “You didn’t… steal him.. Right?” “Charles!” Emily laughs, like it’s an absurd question. Betelgeuse can’t tell if it is or not. Emily doesn’t seem like a child snatching witch, but he doesn’t know enough about such things to be sure. “I didn’t steal him,” she clarifies, busying herself with getting the boy a cup of ice water, and stopping by for a moment to touch the back of her hand to his forehead again. “I found him wandering around Central Park. He said he doesn’t have any folks, and he was all alone, and he feels feverish. I’m being responsible! I’m a responsible adult!” “A responsible adult who still plays the elevator game, despite being told by maintenance you might throw the whole elevator out of whack?” Charles askes, but he doesn’t look angry, more amused.

“I was teaching Beetlejuice how to play.” The pause he was expecting with Emily finds its home with Charles. Charles glances at the boy. Betelguese stares back with big amber eyes, sipping quietly at his ice water. Charles looks to Emily, who seems to be waiting expectantly. The silence stretches for another beat before Charles asks, baffled, “Is that… his name?”

Emily throws her hands up like he’s asked if the sky is really blue. “Of course it’s his name! Or at least, that’s the name he gave me. I’m respecting it. Respectful and responsible, that’s me.” She turns and winks at Betelgeuse. He returns the strange breather gesture because he likes Emily more than he’s ever liked anyone before.

The water cup is empty, and he simply lets it go, no longer interested in holding it. It bounces and rolls across the floor, and Charles wrinkles his brow at the boy. “Wh-” Before he can say much more, Betelgeuse is sniffing at the air, and he crouches on all fours, nose to the ground, like a dog in a cartoon. He’s caught the scent of some kind of upperworld bug, and despite all the hotted dogs, he’s still hungry. He’s on the prowl around the kitchen, weaving under the little dining table and three chairs, and then back down the hall, into the living room. Charles and Emily poke their heads out of the kitchen to watch him.

“I think you brought a feral child into the house, Em.”

She makes a psshaw sound and rolls her eyes, smacking gently at his lapels. “He’s a kid. Kids are weird. I was doing weird kid stuff when I was his age, too.” “And you never stopped,” comes the dry response. “Charles, I know you worry, but he’s a little kid, lost in New York. I mean, my god, it’s like a movie! I couldn’t just leave him, and I wasn’t just going to give him to some cop, he’s probably an undocumented runaway or something-” and the rest of her rambling is drown out by Charles gasping and grabbing her, and her own muffled gasps of shock, because Betelgeuse has caught the bug. And also, he’s on the ceiling. He may have been trying to blend in, but the second he caught the scent of that delicious crunchy upperworld bug meat, everything else was out of mind. He’d spotted it on the ceiling, and had followed it up there, ignoring gravity to get what he wanted, and right as he pounced on it, nearly catlike, Charles and Emily had gasped. Their breather noises distract him long enough for the bug to skitter away, and he loses his concentration, and drops to the living room floor with a sickening crunch. Emily shrieks, and Charles panics, sprinting for the boy, certain he’ll find a dead child with a broken neck. Instead Betelguise sits up, his glamour disturbed from the fall, and the breathers get an eyeful of what he really looks like. There’s a beat. They’re all staring at each other for a long moment. “I… I might have brought a feral child into the house,” Emily admits sheepishly. You can read the entire thing, right now, over here

[tinysidestrashcaptain]

It's Only Logical - Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Confrontations and Justice

First Chapter Previous Chapter

Pairings: Logicality/Prinxiety

Warnings: TW for Jason Bryce, Violence, and swearing!

His flowers, he thought. Plants that he’d raised from seeds, bulbs, babied along their whole lives, now lying ruined on the ground. Twisted, trampled and ripped. Innocent, and he took a silent moment to grieve before racing around the corner of the building.

He skidded to a stop as he saw Jason Bryce swing a baseball bat, shattering a window. “You son of a bitch!”

He saw the surprise on Jason’s face as he whirled around, followed by rage. “Heard you were busy today. Figured I’d be done and gone before you showed up.”

“Well, you figured wrong.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He swung the bat again, shattering another window in a hail of jagged glass. “You think you can get away from me? Humiliate me, sick the police on me?” Another crash, another window gone. “Someone needs to put you in your place.”

“You humiliated yourself, and if you don’t put that down and get the hell off my property, I’m going to do a lot more than sick the cops on you.” Logan raised his chin, clenching his fists at his sides.

“Is that so? Just you and me now, isn’t it?” Jason slapped the bat against his palm, glaring at him. “Do you have any idea what you cost me?”

“I have a general idea, and it’s going to be a lot more soon. Trespassing, destruction of property.”

Jason didn’t use the bat on him, but he could see the look in his eyes when he considered it before tossing it away. He lashed out, slapping Logan across the cheek with that familiar, brutal force that snapped his head to the side.

Logan felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest as he faced Jason down, ignoring the throbbing of his face. “That the best you’ve got? Seems like your dick isn’t the only thing that’s soft anymore.”

“You mouthy little bitch!” Jason snarled, throwing himself at Logan. “That fucking nobody ruined you, that stupid clod with his little brat! You’re mine, you’ll always be mine!”

Logan caught Jason and used his own momentum to throw him against the wall, lashing out with his fists, which clearly caught Jason by surprise. “I don’t belong to anybody but myself, you arrogant piece of shit!”

Jason grunted as he took the lighter blows before pinning Logan’s arms down and tossing him to the ground. He was bigger, and stronger, and he used his own body to force Logan down in the dirt. “Maybe you just need to be reminded. Isn’t that right, pet?” He gripped the back of Logan’s neck in a familiar hold that had his stomach churning with fear and disgust.

“Get your goddamn hands off of me!” Logan snapped, kicking up and out until he connected hard enough to make Jason wheeze and loosen his grip.

He heard shouts and running feet, and Logan scrambled away to slowly stand on rubbery legs as Virgil tore around the corner two steps ahead of Patton.

“I’m fine. I’m okay.” Logan said calmly, although his head was spinning like a carousel. “This bastard might need medical attention, though.”

“Fuck him!” Virgil snarled, reaching out to Logan. His hands feathered over Logan’s face as he checked for injury, scowling. “He HIT you? Jesus fucking Christ, he hit you?!”

“I got him worse, believe me. And we’re going to press all sorts of charges.” Logan gave a wan smile and patted Virgil’s shoulder as he slowly took stock of himself. He scowled as he spotted the tear on the knee of his pants. “Goddammit! I got this suit especially for today. All sorts of charges.”

“The police are on their way. Barbara called on her cell on her way back to Roman’s to get us.” Patton’s voice shook, and Logan could tell from the look on his face it was a combination of fear and rage.

“Good. That’s good.” Logan sagged a bit, the adrenaline draining out of him. “Virgil, can you do me a favor? Bring this piece of shit around front. I don’t want to see him any longer or I might grab that bat and do something that’ll land me in jail.”

“Let me stand him up first.” Patton reached down and hauled Jason up on his feet with one hand. He turned and looked at Logan, all steely blue eyes. “Sorry.” And plowed his fist into Jason’s face, sending him sprawling to the ground again.

“I don’t mind a bit.” Logan could feel a wide grin spreading across his face as his knees wobbled dangerously. “Not one damn bit.”

Virgil hauled Jason up by the back of his collar and started marching him away, grinning meanly as he kicked the bastard’s feet out from under him as they walked. “Oops, you’ve got to watch where you’re going, Brycey.” He looked back at Logan with a grin. “You sure kicked ass today, Lo.”

“Thanks. And if he so much as twitches wrong, you go ahead and hit him as hard as you want. No complaints from me.” Logan gave a tremulous smile as he leaned against the wall of the shop building. “But I think all this ass kicking has left me out of sorts, so if you don’t mind, I’ll sit right here and catch my breath?”

“Here.” Patton took off his suit jacket and laid it on the ground. “No need to mess up your suit any more than it already is.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Logan sank gratefully down, leaning against Patton to take in the warmth and support he offered. He sat quietly until his heart rate slowed to normal, until the tangle of nerves, rage and disgust in his belly had eased a bit. Broken glass glittered in the sunlight, scattered on the ground around them. Glass could be replaced, he reminded himself. He’d mourn his flowers, but he’d save some of the wounded, and he’d grow more. An abundance of more.

“How’s your hand?” he asked Patton.

“Fine. Good.” Patton all but spat it out. “He’s got a chin like a marshmallow.”

“Big strong man.” Logan turned to wrap his arms around him, and didn’t mention Patton’s raw scraped knuckles. Patton gently helped him to his feet, and he leaned in close, refusing to let him go just yet.

“He must have been crazy to think he could get away with this,” Patton muttered, glaring in the direction Virgil had dragged Jason off to.

“A little, I guess. I imagine he planned to be done wrecking my place before the wedding was over. He’d figure we’d blame it on kids -- or the police would. And all I’d have was a mess on my hands. A man like that has no respect for others. He doesn’t believe anyone can best him.” Logan replied softly, resting his head on Patton’s shoulder.

“One did.” Patton shot him a look, clearly indicating he wasn’t referring to himself. Logan rubbed his arms, then clutched gratefully at the lapels of Patton's jacket as he picked it up and draped it over his shoulders, wrapping an arm around him. Logan burrowed into his warmth, unsure if his bones would ever be warm again.

“I can hardly believe this happened. If you hadn’t come when you had--” Logan cut himself off, refusing to entertain that line of thinking.

“We could hear you shouting.” Patton said quietly. “You cost Virgil and I several years off our lives. So I’m going to say this once.”

He turned, taking the lapels of his jacket into his hands and holding Logan steady so he was facing him. “And you are damn well going to hear it. I respect and admire your steely will, Logan, and appreciate your temper and capability. But the next time you so much as think about taking on some lunatic with a bat all on your own, I’m going to be doing some ass kicking. And it’s going to be your ass with the bullseye painted on it.”

Logan angled his head, studied his face, and saw he meant every word he’d said. Son of a gun. “You know, if I hadn’t already decided on this thing I’m about to ask you, that would have done it. How can I resist a man who lets me fight my own battles, then when the time is right steps in and cleans house? After the dust is clear, he gives me a good piece of his mind for being an idiot. Which I was, no question, no argument.”

“Glad to hear we’re agreed on that.” Patton replied dryly.

Logan took a step closer, and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling his boyfriend closer. “I really love you.”

“I really love you back.”

“Then you won’t mind marrying me.” Logan felt his body jerk, just a little, just once, then settle in against his own, warm and true.

“I don’t see a problem with that. Are you sure?” Patton murmured, gently sliding his hands around Logan’s waist, holding him close.

“If you had asked me that a few months ago, I’d say no, but I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I’m a logical person, a person who thinks things through, and then over-thinks them, and then thinks about them some more, and some more still – and yet I don’t know that I can define love. Yet the cliche about love, of course, is that you’ll know it when you’re in it, right?” Logan asked, looking up at him. Patton lifted a hand to gently cup his face, smiling softly at him. “I used to think it happened explosively. That love was something astronomically powerful that not only swept you off your feet, but knocked you down on your ass and soaked through your skin and became an overarching force that was impossible to ignore. But, what if that’s not it? What if love is quiet and soft? What if love is gradual and delicate? What if love isn’t an explosion, but is instead this calm feeling you get when you wake up one golden Sunday morning and realize that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than next to this person whose quirks make you laugh until you can’t breathe? Lately, I think I’ve stopped trying to define it and have started to believe that being in love is about more than just explosive emotion. And yet, it’s also about more than just finding someone to coexist with in the same space at the same time. Love is about finding someone who lights even the tiniest parts of your soul on fire. It’s about finding someone who makes you more you, who will even surprise you every now and then by knowing you better than you know yourself.” Logan leaned into Patton’s touch, feeling his heart leap even now.

“Am I that person to you, Lo?” Patton’s voice was thick with emotion, his blue eyes shimmering with tears.

“I believe I have found that person in you, and no one else will suffice.” Logan’s hands fisted in his boyfriend’s hair, his face intense. He didn’t talk about emotions, didn’t do this very often, so he wanted to take the opportunity to pour out all the words he’d probably never say again while he still could. “I want a safe place to rest my lips, and a soft place to land. I want someone who will keep me in his heart because that’s where I’ll be warm and safe. I want someone who will look at me when I’m at my messiest and kiss me on the forehead, someone who thinks I’m lovely in the morning, and at night, and during all the in between times. Someone who knows how much I like to be whispered to and who isn’t scared off when I’m crying, rare though that may be. Someone who can sense when I’m overwhelmed, who just knows when life is too much and who will, in those moments, stand close enough to me to block everything else out. Most importantly, I want someone who will stand beside me and face my battles with me, rather than standing in front of me. I want you, for the rest of our lives. I want Thomas and Parker and messy pizza nights and and everything that goes--”

Patton cut him off with a fierce kiss, swallowing whatever words Logan may have said. Logan made a soft sighing sound and melted into him, happily yielding in that moment. He leaned on him, knew without a doubt that he could lean on him--and trust him to step back when he needed to stand on his own.

Everything inside of Logan calmed, even when they broke the kiss and he snuggled against Patton’s chest, looking out at the destruction of what was his. He would fix it, save what could be saved and accept what couldn’t. He would live his life, plant his gardens, and walking hand-in-hand with the man he loved, he would watch both bloom. It wasn’t how he’d planned to do this, not by a long shot, but it was still the happiest moment of his life. “Do you think Thomas will be okay with it?”

“Are you kidding? He’d been pestering me for weeks now, asking when I was going to marry you and when we’d get to come live with you forever. Pretty sure he’d already decided you’re his stepfather.” Patton grinned, rolling his eyes fondly at the thought of his energetic son. “Now come on, slugger. I think we’ve got a police statement to give.”

“Mmm. But let’s hold off on announcing our engagement for a few days. I want Roman and Virgil to have their moment. Even if Jason put a dark cloud on it.”

“Are you serious? Virgil got to see him get his ass kicked. He’ll probably thank you for the wedding present.”

Logan threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing in the sunlit air around them. No matter what else came next, he knew he had faced his demons and won. And he would never have to face it alone.

A/N: And that's it! We're done! Welcome to the end of It's Only Logical. I cannot believe I started this fic in 2017. Or that I finished it. I'll probably do some one shots or drabbles from this universe, little stories and bits of things that couldn't fit into the main fic, but the bulk of it is here. And all done at last! Apologies again to my former tag list. I lost it, and I feel terrible that for the end I couldn't tag you all. This chapter won't be any different on Ao3 or Wattpad. For those who weren't aware, Ao3 has the Explicit version of this fic, and Wattpad has this non-explicit version, possibly in an easier format. I've linked both, so if you feel like going back and re-reading all over again, you can. I love you all so, SO much and I appreciate all the support and patience you have given me. <3 Also? Roman stayed behind to keep the wedding guests calm, but he's going to be overjoyed when he hears what happened. And I like to think Virgil finally got to punch Jason Bryce right in his stupid, stupid face.

[bangtans-bubs]

BTS Reaction #4: When you fight another female idol at MAMA’s

-/-

a/n: Hey army! How have y’all been? Just an FYI, I MAY have gotten carried away with some of these, which is why they’re lengthier than others. THAT DOESN’T MEAN I DON’T LIKE THE MEMBERS EQUALLY, OKAY?! I’ve been a little caught up with school work, so my apologies if your requests are taking a while. Anyways, I’ve been working on a couple requests, so feel free to submit any ideas :)

warning: just the usual ‘wanna beat a bitch up’ vibe + a few dirty remarks

word count: 200 - 390 (per member)

*creds to gif owners

-/-

> Kim Namjoon (RM)

He has always made sure to keep you controlled when you get angry to the point where you’ll start throwing hands. It’s either he asks you to breathe in and breath out, or his 6 feet figure will find its way in front of you and will take all your blows instead of the girl. The problem started when you spotted Namjoon’s ex making faces at you when you both were taking pictures together for the paparazzi. Namjoon had caught onto what had quickened your breathing and asked for you to calm damn. As much as you wanted to be the bigger person in this situation, you really couldn’t have her acting like every time she sees you two. So, once you had passed by the paparazzi, you walked straight towards her and Namjoon did try to latch onto your wrist, but you were too quick.

“Are you 5 years old or something?” You squinted your eyes as you questioned her, your chest still heaving from before. She let out a dry scoff before she began laughing. How does this bitch have the audacity to laugh after making faces those faces?

“Can’t believe I got under your skin, Y/n,” she retorted with a peak in her tone. Before she knew it, you had punched her right in her jaw, knocking her off her feet within seconds. Before you could throw more punches, Namjoon had dashed to your side and retained you, quickly taking you away from the messy scene. Once he brought you to a more private setting, he leant down to your eye level and huskily whispered, “I thought you were only frisky in bed, but you’re frisky during fights too now, huh?”

> Kim Seokjin 

Jin was hosting the Mama’s Music Awards with Irene and when they were joking around, she made a snide remark about how he was dating someone that was in the music industry. Jin always had his way of putting people in their spot, and he did do that by saying, “Even if she was an idol, my eyes would still be on her. Don’t be jealous that you’re not her.”

The audience laughed at his nasty remark thinking he unintentionally insulted Irene, but only you, Irene and the other BTS members knew that comment was personal. After the show was done, you excused yourself from the BTS group and went your own way, trying to find Irene. Jin knew what your intentions were and asked for you to not physically fight her, but just say a few words that’ll be imprinted in her mind. Within seconds of splitting from the boys, you ran into Irene. Perfect. You thought she would speak in an un-provocative manner, but she was speaking as if she wanted to throw hands, so you did just that. After a minute or so, Jin and the others heard screams that sounded like someone was in pain. Jin and the others turned the corner to see Irene and you tangled up on the floor, your hands clawing at her face as she did the same. Jin wasn’t going to do anything, but he noticed how you had a bruise welling up on your right arm and quickly came to pry you out. Oh, how hard it was for him to not break into a fit of laughter after noticing how she was splayed across the floor like a rag doll. Since he’s a gentleman, he helped Irene up before he took you to his dressing room.

“How come you listen to me when I teach you about fighting, but when I tell you something in bed, you become rebellious, jagi?”

> Min Yoongi (Suga) 

He has the nerve to sit back and relax after he pissed you off to the point where you wanted to drag that girl by her hair. He knows that you get a slight bit possessive when a girl gets handsy with him, especially when he doesn’t acknowledge it happening. What you thought was a fan of his was just another female idol. You weren’t going to do much about it, but she became very touchy within seconds and he had no idea what her intentions were. You glared at him in hopes of him taking it as a signal to move away from her, but he didn’t. He just smirked. That mother fucker is doing this on purpose, isn’t he? Your eyes never left his for what felt like an eternity, all while the girl was still feeling him up and she knew he was already dating someone. You walked towards the hungry lady and decided to pull Suga away from her, but she then hooked her arm around his and began arguing with you without knowing that you were his girlfriend. She was asking for a lot of your patience and you weren’t going to give her any. You just pried her arm away from his and pulled him towards the staircase, but she had the nerves to push you. You didn’t even throw hands yet, but your quick movements had caused her to flinch and topple over. You and Suga tried to hold in your laughter, but the way she had acted big  only to end up falling caused both of you to break. Once the both of you were seated, he didn’t even think twice before he said, “I didn’t expect myself to become hot and bothered by you tonight, baby. Especially by that.”

> Jung Hoseok (J-Hope/Hobi) 

He hates confrontations, even if he’s a bystander. He’d be surprised at first by your aggressiveness towards the girl, but then he’d remember that it was one of the reasons you had caught his attention. As much as he’d love to see the fight go down, he didn’t want to give you the chance of swinging or insulting the girl. Since he’s respectful, he’ll apologize to the girl on behalf of you, even if she’s the one at fault, and that enrages you every time. You were already fuming over the fact this girl spoke shit about BTS, but Hobi apologizing to her had caused you to shift your anger towards him. He had a steady hold around your arm, but you still managed to pull out of his grip and angrily brushed past him. He gave you a couple of minutes to cool down because he knows you’re mad to the point you’ll swing at anybody that tries to speak to you, especially him. He came up a few minutes later and said, “I know you’re mad at me, baby. You don’t have to say yes, but why don’t we go home and have a little fun of your own?”

> Park Jimin 

The way you’d fire back at someone if they dare to speak bad on Jimin’s name always gave him a thrill. He won’t stop you unless he thinks you blew a gasket for no absolute reason. He also doesn’t bother to stop you from beating a bitch up if he hates her guts. In this case, the girl on the receiving end of your brawl was none other than Twice’s Jeongyeon. When you followed closely behind Jimin, past the beautiful Twice idols, you heard Jeongyeon mumble, “Disgusting,” under her breath. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned your attention towards her, untwining your hands from Jimin’s.

“Please. If you’re going to talk shit speak up.” Jimin saw how your relaxed face had molded to fit an angry expression and how intimidating your voice had gotten. He noticed how quickly your dominant attitude had turned him on, and that’s because he’s usually the dominant one in bed, so you barely get a chance to show this side. He snapped out of his thoughts when he saw a chunk of Jeongyeon’s black extensions fly past his face. He didn’t know how long he’d been lost in his train of dirty thoughts, but it was enough time for you to drag Jeongyeon to the ground before you began clawing at her. As the security guards rushed to pull Jeongyeon away from your death grip, Jimin pulled you into his embrace and had you locked into place. He excused both of you from the scene before he sat you down in your assigned seat. You noticed how he had a sly smirk splayed across his face, but before you can question him, he whispered, “I’m curious to find out if I can handle this heated side of you in bed.”

> Kim Taehyung (V)

He loves drama. He’d even take part in one if he hears his name come up once. For you, he’d just stay back and watch how his girl would rip someone badly if they ever did something with bad intentions. He felt more dominant when he sees your aggressive side because there’s no way he’d allow you to win an argument or fight against him. If you fought another person, he’d just rest back and watch what happens. He’s seen you blow a punch at a man, instantly knocking him out, so he doesn’t worry about you losing a fight. Another incident where he saw you throw hands at a female idol was at the MAMA’s show. You were minding your own business when someone came up to Taehyung and said, “Don’t be full of yourself just because you were ranked #1 as the most handsome Kpop idol.”

He was surprised at her words at first, but then began laughing because she was unaware of what she just started. You stepped in between her and Taehyung and were all up in her face.

“Repeat that.” When you noticed her hold her breath, you thought that was the end of that situation, but she provoked you by repeating her saying. To make it worse for herself, she annunciated the words ‘full of yourself’, almost standing on her tiptoes to reach your eye level. You let out a dry chuckle before you tried swinging, but Taehyung got in front of you, stopping you from fighting for the first time. When your eyes met his for a second, you noticed how dilated his dark brown pupils, but you were too concentrated on landing your blows. You tried to move around him to try to get the girl, but he kept moving with you. When he couldn’t restrain you for any longer, he just threw you over his shoulders and brought you to the nearest restroom. Thankfully, the women’s restroom was empty, so you were able to pace around like a mad man. You heard the click of the door locking and noticed how Taehyung’s fingers were playing with his belt buckle. He slowly made his way to you, not breaking his deep gaze at you. He glanced down at his crotch before he looked at you and gruffly whispered, “You have to fix this problem first, baby.”

> Jeon Jungkook 

He’s the type to lay back and watch what unveils in front of him. If he thinks you’re going to make a blood bath, he’ll be quick to pull you away, unless he thinks the bitch deserves it. If that’s the case, then he’ll just be your own hype man and he’ll instruct you on how to swing and what move to pull. He’ll try his best to avoid any incident that would cause you to react this way, but he couldn’t do anything this time because the bitch you were referring to was his celebrity crush, IU. He didn’t think much of it when IU began running her hands over his muscular arms, but when he noticed you glaring at him, he was quick to push her away and politely told her that he’s uncomfortable. She still insisted on touching him, so you decided to give her a taste of her own medicine. When Jungkook saw you storm past the others towards IU, he quickly managed to get between you both, dragging you away to avoid an MMA fight at the MAMA’s show.

“As much as I wanted to see how that played out, I can’t afford to let you mess up that precious face for me, baby.”

*requests are open

[mcybank]

. . . ⇢ COMPLIANCE ; JJ

summary jj and the reader have been dating but haven’t told anybody about it. due to their relationship being extremely private, they tended to make each other jealous by flirting with other people, and one day, the reader took it a little too far for jj’s liking.

pairing jj maybank x female!reader

warnings smut; submission, choking (slightly), oral, swearing, etc. just pure smut tbh.

“You’re on,” was the last thing you said to JJ Maybank, your secret boyfriend of three months before you strutted towards a guy that had been eyeing you for quite a while, knowing exactly what you’ll be doing. JJ had the exact same intentions as you as he walked towards a girl that was sitting alone near the place with a lot of drinks; she was fairly attractive and neither you nor JJ could deny that. 

The guy who you were with glanced at you, then your body, licking his lips in awe. You mentally threw up, you didn’t want to be flirting with the guy ahead of you who was looking at you as if you’re some kind of object, but just to get your boyfriend heated, you went ahead with it. “Hey, you, what’s your name?” you questioned, your hand making its way to the necklace wrapped around his neck, slowly toying with it. “Name’s Daniel, how about you?” the way his words fell out of his mouth, you instantly knew he was a Kook, one with quite a bit of ego. “y/n. So, I saw you looking at me a few seconds ago,” you began, your eyes meeting his dark brown ones that stared into your own intently, filled with lust. “Yeah, talking to your boyfriend?” he questioned, it was an excuse for him to just know if you were single or not, not that he really cared, but it would be good information for him. 

His hands made their way to your waist as your lips curved into a smile, a rather fake one, but he didn’t notice either way. “No, don’t have a boyfriend, fortunately,” you spoke, your voice loud enough to catch JJ’s attention from a few feet away, chatting up the girl in front of him. He stared at the two of you, and the way the boy held onto you; exactly how he did to you. His fists bawled up, but nobody noticed, he continued speaking to the girl who seemed to become more and more interested in JJ, and he gradually lost interest in her, which caused him to excuse himself and walk over to you and the guy whose name you learned was Daniel.

“Hey, bro. Looks like she has to go home now, correct, y/n?” JJ informed Daniel, his eyes filled with rage at the boy who was still holding onto you gently, his hands creeping down your back. “Right, y/n?” he repeated, aimed at you, a lot more sternness present in his voice. You nodded hesitantly, quite afraid of what JJ’s thoughts were; you knew that he was jealous, he envied Daniel and the way he touched you in public. This guy has gotten to know you 4 minutes ago and can hold you in front of everyone, JJ can’t do that. 

“Somebody’s jealous,” you cooed, a chuckle escaping your lips as JJ dragged you through the crowd of people. As soon as those words poured out of your mouth, JJ stopped in an instant and turned you to face him, his tall frame towering over you. He leaned down to reach your ear, “your place or the Chateau?” he whispered, his voice was rough and laced with every ounce of dominance he had present in him. It sent cold shivers down your spine,  “M-mine, JJ,” you responded, stuttering on your words knowing that you had given in to the irresistible boy already. His lips tugged towards one side, smirking at how you had already presented your role for the night. “Your parents aren’t home, correct? Wouldn’t want them hearing you calling somebody else daddy, would you?”

“Strip,” he instructed as the two of you entered your room, the only light being the large beige-tinted one above. He took a seat on the edge of your bed, impatiently waiting for you to do as he told you to. Your hands went to the bottom of your cropped top, taking it off rapidly, not wasting any time teasing him, and then went down to the short-cut skirt you were wearing, one that he had been thinking of ripping off all night. You were left in just your bra and underwear, both matching one another and red; JJ’s absolute weakness. He felt the hard through the uncomfortable material of his jeans, groaning in annoyance at the pain it caused the boy. His groan was enough for you to walk closer to him and sit on your knees, knowing that it would be his next instruction. 

Your frail hands went to his jeans, feeling his cock through his jeans slightly, and slightly touching it to arouse him. He was quick to slap your hand away, “You tease, you get punished,” his voice was filled with tension, the nerves in his body were already riling up, waiting for this exact moment. You looked at his face that showed frustration, you then proceeded to unzip his jeans and bring them down his legs. His hard was visible for you to see through his black boxers, enough to make your thighs clasp together due to the feeling you had below. 

JJ waited for a minute, allowing you to stroke his cock through his boxers, before he pulled them down from his waistband, his cock springing up, making you anxious to take his size. Your hands wrapped around his member, you looked up at him for approval, to which he nodded to and mumbled something you couldn’t make out. Your mouth wrapped around his cock, slowly feeling it in your mouth and adjusting to it. “Fuckkk,” JJ moaned, throwing his head back in pleasure as he felt his cock hit the back of your mouth, taking all of him in. The small gags that you let out were enough for him to place his hand on top of your head and force your head down, causing you to gag a lot more like a reflex, but eventually getting used to it. 

“Yeah, you like that?” he asked, moaning after he saw how perfect you looked taking him nicely, just how he asked. You slowly nodded, as you continued to lick the tip of his cock, before going back to sucking it. His hands now found their way to your hair, tugging harshly on it making you go even lower on his member. 

“When I ask you a question, you look up at me and answer me, okay?” 

You pulled away from his cock and your hands rested on your thighs, before you hurriedly replied to him, “Yes, JJ,” his eyebrows raised in confusion, and you realized what you had done wrong. “I meant—” he stopped you by pulling you by your shoulders, his hands finding their way to your back, unclipping your bra, and letting it fall to the floor. “Don’t care what you meant, you made this a whole lot eventful for yourself. Lie down,” he instructed, his voice asserted dominance. It’s as if he wanted you to call him by the wrong name just so he could make punish you with what he had in mind. He stood up from where he was previously sitting, allowing you to lie down comfortably on your back, only in your red underwear. “Look at you, waiting for daddy, looking so pretty,”

He forced your legs open, presenting yourself to him, licking his lips in the pleasure of the sight ahead of him. His face went between your thighs, his teeth hungrily taking off your underwear with the aid of his hands. As soon as you were completely exposed to him, he teasingly licked your opening, causing you to moan in pleasure and arch your back at the sudden connection between JJ’s lips and your pussy. “Shut the fuck up,” he instructed, his tongue toying with your pussy along with his index and middle finger. You couldn’t control yourself, you let out another moan, this one a lot louder than the previous one, and JJ’s head whipping up to meet your eyes was when you realized you were in trouble. “Can’t take a command nicely, can you? Forcing me to rough you up even more than I planned to, little one?” 

Within an instant, he stopped playing with you, and made his cock rub over your pussy, up and down. Your mouth remained shut, as much as you wanted to let out a moan you’ve been holding in, you couldn’t. “Ready to take me, baby?” he questioned, his voice a lot more careful and gentle, knowing that after he inserts himself into you, you’d be in a daze. You nodded quickly, you were already feeling your heartbeat pumping for him to put himself in, and so he did. 

Your mouth opened, but it was covered by JJ’s hand, “don’t scream,” he told you. The smirk on his face was evident, he was proud to see you taking him in so nicely, watching your eyeballs roll to the back of your eyes in pleasure, and your mouth zipped shut. “Want me to faster?” he asked, even in his dominant state of mind, he wanted to make sure that he didn’t overwhelm you too much, and if you denied, he wouldn’t even think of going faster. “Yes, daddy,” you softly said, afraid that your speaking would make him angrier at you. 

His pace sped up gradually, but to you, it felt like a millisecond. He thrust in and out of you, your fingers curling up and holding the white sheets in pleasure. “Fuck, baby. You feel so good around my cock,” he complimented, his eyes were squeezed shut for a few moments, getting the most out of the feeling. 

Your right hand went to your throat, lazily grabbing it, telling JJ to do so himself. His hand reached out to your throat, wrapping it around and choking you slightly, causing your eyes to close and enjoy the painful pleasure. He didn’t like the idea of choking you a lot, nor was he in the mindset to do it intensely, so his hands pulled away from your throat and were placed on each side of you, as his hips thrust his cock.

He felt your cunt clench around his cock, he knew you were close to an orgasm, however, he was getting close to cumming, but not yet. “Wait for me,” he demanded, your mind just thought of how well JJ knew you, but you weren’t willing to wait, you felt that you were incapable of waiting for him. “Daddy—” you began, in a seductive tone to get him to give in. “I said, wait for me,” he growled, his face nearing your own as he felt got close to cumming. 

His thrusts became a lot faster then the speed fluctuated, and you knew he was going to cum. “Now,” he said, both of you in your final seconds before cumming for one another. “You gonna cum for me, huh? Cum for daddy, princess,” he said between short breaths.

You felt a wave of euphoria run through your veins, letting out a loud moan in pleasure as you came for the boy inside you. His body came to a halt as he let himself free inside you at the same time, waiting for a second to calm down, and letting out a loud groan as he laid beside your shaking body. 

“What do you have to say now, baby?” he asked, letting loose of the sternness he had in his voice previously. “Thank you, daddy,” you replied, turning around and facing JJ, whose face was flushed due to your actions. You buried your face in the crook of his neck as he tried to calm you down. 

You were still overwhelmed, your body was trembling due to the sexual gratification, and due to how he inside you made you feel, your vision was blurry and you slurred on your words. 

JJ pulled himself closer to his body, allowing you to feel his warmth before he had to clean himself up, along with you. His hands ran through your disheveled hair, stroking it, causing you to feel calmer. “How would you like a bath after this, princess?” he suggested, his voice was soft and comforting, giving you the idea that he was back to being caring, giving you aftercare. You nodded slowly, feeling as though a bath would be the perfect thing at this moment, with JJ.

His hands moved from your hair to your back, drawing small circles, which soothed you, a lot. 

“I’ll just get some water and a snack for you, alright?” he informed you after he felt your body at ease and the shaking was minimal. You nodded, although you didn’t want to feel the cold air hit your body since he was shielding you from it, you were thirsty, and the snack was a major plus.

[timextoxhajima]

The Misadventures of Ares: Promotionem

HOSTIS MASTERLIST

“Do I want to know if one of you will be reported missing tomorrow after I give you this information?” Dr. Choi has his left jaw snug in his left palm, head resting in his hand with his free one fiddling with the corner of a file. 

“With all due respect, Dr. Choi, I doubt you have much of a choice,” Hyunjae grits his teeth and bares them like he was cringing. You would love to agree with him on the spot, but that’s not a very smart thing to do now, no. 

The promotion was yours, and if it wasn’t, Dr. Choi might actually have to call 911 tomorrow when he doesn’t see your fiancé report to work. 

He raises a brow and provides a slight shrug at Hyunjae’s words, already tuned to his little remarks that could cause a fire, but not enough for him to fire him. The hospital couldn’t anyway, not when Hyunjae’s done more good than most doctors in the building. 

“I must have the both of you know that this promotion doesn’t mean anything. The paycheck is just about two or three thousand dollars difference and the working hours are still the same.”

A pause. He’s waiting for a reaction.

None. 

“No matter which one of you gets promoted at this point, the other can get a promotion far more honorable, you know?”

He pauses again.

Nothing.

Dr. Choi sighs in resignation. “Very well,” He opens the file. Hyunjae sucks in a deep breath and shrinks his left eye, like he was scared something was going to pop out of those ivory pages. “I would like to congratulate Dr. l/n for excelling at her job, and the hospital would like to present her with-”

“YYYYYYYYYEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!” Your fists are clenched so hard and pushed so fast up into the air, the sides of your chest hurt. “AHA! DIDN’T I TELL YOU I’D GET THE PROMOTION FIRST?”

“Dr. l/n,” The senior doctor calls out, yanking your ghastly triumph back down to Earth. You hadn’t realised you were inches away from Hyunjae’s face, doing nothing but ironically talking down to him as if you were ready to win a rap battle. 

“Oh,” Quick, embarrassed steps retreat you from your fiancé (and your loser of a colleague). “Sorry.”

Gaze stuck to the floor and your fingers tightly interweaved with one another, you cannot control the smile that’s erupting across your face. The glee, the satisfaction, the pure bliss that encapsulates your entire being in the form of a sheet of paper in front of you. 

“Very graceful, Dr. l/n.” Hyunjae’s voice sneaks up from your right, and the childish need to stick out your tongue at him overwhelms your need to remain professional. 

“Sometimes I question how you two made it past med school,” Dr. Choi looks up, over the rims of his glasses and raises a brow. The gesture earns a gentle huff from you as you turn away from Hyunjae. “Anyway, I’ll be sending you an email regarding the additional things you need to look out for, but for now, just keep up the good work.”

Clenching your fists in glee, you are snickering when you look up at Dr. Choi, who only turns to look at Hyunjae. “Doesn’t mean you can’t be the next to get a bigger promotion, Dr. Lee.”

“I know,” Hyunjae nods knowingly. The smug smirk directed at you rips out a sneer from your lips. “I trust you, Dr. Choi.”

You are halfway across the distance between you and your fiance, hand in the air and ready to slap it down against his arm when Dr. Choi raises both his hands, palms facing his audience and waving aggressively. 

“If you two want to fight over this miniscule promotion, please do it at elsewhere, possibly in the safety of your own homes.”

Hyunjae tuts loudly, walking around you and heading for the door of Dr. Choi’s office. “Thank you, Dr. Choi,” He pauses, and glances between you and the older doctor. “And do help me call the police and ambulance tomorrow if I don’t show up.”

Your lower jaw goes slack as Hyunjae purses his lips in mischief, quickly exiting the office before you can throw something at him. “You-!”

“Dr. l/n!”

The mandarin shades of the setting sun is reflecting off the champagne glass tower as you are shown to the rooftop restaurant. With the spectacular view of the city and the sights of exquisite food placed on perfect-white porcelain plates, this is the last thing you would’ve expected him to do. 

“Over here, Mr and Mrs Lee,” The waiter, who’s dressed in a suit that seemed mroe expensive than the clothes you were wearing now, gestures to a table for two nearest to the end where there was a gorgeous waterfall over the ledge and into the water catchment area below. “Here’s the menu. Today’s soup special is the Black Truffle Mushroom and I recommend that we get you started on a five-course seafood and steak meal with a Cabernet or Malbec.”

“Kitten, is there anything you don’t want before I get us started on that five-course?” 

Your eyes dart away from the glistening water below to look at Hyunjae, whose eyes are plastered to the menu while the waiter is standing by the table with his hands before his abdomen. 

“Uh- I-”

“We’ll both have the five-course. And make that two Cabernets. But is it alright if we change the soup special to Clam Chowder? It’s in the menu.”

The waiter takes the menu from Hyunjae that was being handed over. “Definitely. I’ll come by soon with the wine and soup.”

“Thank you.”

And with that, the waiter takes off with the menus and leaves you staring in awe at the view before you. Hyunjae peels your hand off the table and plants a kiss on the back of your hand, before cupping his own cheek in your palm.

“Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it,” As much as you wanted to slam a book in his face for teasing you infront of your mentor this morning, you couldn’t. How could anybody? “You really didn’t have to.”

“No, no,” Hyunjae releases your hand for you to keep. “I’m great at being gracious and this is it. You won the fight and you deserve a treat.”

“But my treat’s the promotion. I didn’t need this.”

Hyunjae leans back in his chair, with his emerald green blazer a capturing all the orange there is that settling on the fabric. His hair is slightly tousled, and it’s a miracle how it remains in its position. He never liked touching much wax or hairspray unless he knew he couldn’t afford it getting into his face. But his skin is so clear, it looks like glass. And his eyes are pearls in the clear blue sea when you look down in the sand. 

Then he looks at you with utmost genuine when he parts his lips, only speaking out enough for you to hear.

“At least let me enjoy celebrating your wins with you, even if you beat me to it.”

A gentle chuckle escapes your throat. “Is this how you won Minhee over, back when we were in school? With your... diabetic, sugar-infused speech?”

Hyunjae pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue and crosses his legs under the table. “That probably wouldn’t work - words don’t click like they do in her head as they do in ours.”

“That’s mean!” 

“Says you.”

The sound of your stomach gurgling stirs you in your sleep - which is weird. You've never had a problem with gastric or anything similar of the sorts. It's a surprise when your mouth starts flooding with saliva though, and you try to sit up in a bid to swallow down the need to hurl.

But a weight on your hip keeps you from sitting up completely, as so does Hyunjae's arm on your waist that keeps you pinned to the bed.

"Jae-" 

"Hmm? What is it?"

"Get your leg off me."

"No."

"Get your damn leg off me before I-"

There it is again.

Hyunjae can feel your physique squirm against his chest. The feeling of queasiness lurches up your stomach and into your throat and finally it becomes unbearable. He isn't given a chance before you literally slide out from underneath him and bolt for his bathroom, and before you know it you're on your knees with your dinner and dessert being hurled out into the toilet bowl.

"Jesus, are you okay?" Hyunjae squats next to you after turning on the bathroom light. "Was it something you ate?"

The stench of the remnants in the toilet bowl stinks up the whole bathroom, and your slightly limp hand reaches out for the flush. "I don't know. I don't think so- you're not puking."

"Well- I could have a stronger stomach than you."

Sitting your bum to the cold tiles of the floor, your eyes naturally start shooting daggers at your fiancé. "You really know when to say the best things, don't you?"

The mischief in him slips away, replaced with a gentle smile as he presses his hand to your forehead. "Well, you're not having a fever so it probably isn't food poisoning."

"Never mind," Your hand searches for something solid to help you up, but Hyunjae interrupts you and slides his arms under your knees and your back instead. "I can get a check up at the hospital tomorrow when I check into work."

"Can't you take the day off and get your check up elsewhere?"

"We literally work at the hospital," Your bum leaves the floor as he carries you out, stopping by the switch on the wall to turn off the light. "Isn't it common sense to make use of that?"

Hyunjae hums, making it to his bed in about 5 or 6 steps. The cushion sinks under your weight when he puts you down in bed, and he crawls over you playfully, with his arms perching his torso above yours.

"You're so cute when you need me to take care of you," He pecks your nose and forehead.

"I don't need any taking care, Sir," Your fingers dig into his cheeks as you squish them, forcing his lips into an 'o'. "You're cuter, by the way."

Hyunjae grins widely, eyes still sleepy. Then he topples over and scoops you into his chest like a child holding a puppy, lips against your forehead as his gentle breathing takes you away into your slumber.

"Why did you even bother to clock into work today when you're not feeling well?" The general practitioner frowns at you through the reflection of his laptop as he watches you slide the door of his office shut.

"Aw, not happy to see me?" The sarcasm was awfully heavy in your voice as the smirk remains plastered to your face. Dr. Kyung Won Jin whirls around in his roller chair and scoots over to his desk where you head for, automatically pulling your white coat so that you wouldn't sit on it.

"I think I'd like it more if we were... perhaps in a restaurant or a café catching up instead." He takes your temperature and blood pressure.

"I would but I'm swamped," The blood pressure arm strap tightens around your skin and muscle. 

"Not to mention that promotion I heard you got yesterday, right?" He smiles, turning to his laptop and letting some program run.

The satisfaction wells your chest. "So you've heard!" 

"How could I not, when the entire department heard you yelling about it in Dr. Choi's office?"

A low chuckle collects the atmosphere as he removes the blood pressure strap. He clicks a pen and jots down the number, but it's not enough to catch your attention.

"Well, had to make sure to rub it in his face."

"Would've been there to see it myself... but, probably didn't want to be around when y'all are hurling things at each other."

"News flash, we didn't throw anything at each other," You grin at Dr. Kyung, who pulls out a needle and a blood tube.

"Nice to know," He wraps a band around your forearm before lifting the syringe. "Hold still for me, yeah?" Dr. Kyung starts pulling on the syringe. "So, how did he take it? Did he give you the cold shoulder?"

All you can remember from the previous day was the warmth of the sunset and the coolness from the starry night sky.

"Nah," A sweet smile overcomes your greed to flaunt your triumph. "He took me out for a dinner date."

"Aww," Dr. Kyung pouts cutely, eyes flitting back and forth between the blood tube and you. "So, when's the wedding? You've already registered your marriage, haven't you?"

"Well, yes. But the wedding's gotta wait," Dr. Kyung pulls out the needle, pressing a cotton pad to your tiny wound that you press into your arm. "I don't think we can afford the time to plan one now. We were already busy before and now with the promotion... Nah."

"Mm," He hums, sticking the blood tube into one of those test tube holders.

"That's a bummer. But if you do have a wedding, I'd hate to miss it."

Dr. Kyung helps you paste a plaster before you get up and take your leave.

"Of course not. Anything for you, Dr."

The marble counter is slightly stained with cream sauce and some pepper when the pasta is done cooking, and Hyunjae wraps his arms around your waist in a bid to plant little kisses into the back of your neck.

"You're already not helping and you want to pull this stunt now?"

Hyunjae turns off the stove before you're done and turns you around, letting you lean against the edge of the counter. "Who said I didn't help? I got the groceries and I set the table."

You can taste the butter from the garlic bread he was told to make when he presses his lips into yours.

"I told you to help with the garlic bread, not eat them," Hands on his chest, you pull away but unable to escape from between his hands on the edge of the counter.

"I was hungry, let me live a little, would you?" His fingers find your chin and bring them to his face again. The smile that stretches across his lips when you can't resist the kiss he's offering tastes like-

Then Hyunjae's right arm finally leaves the counter, and his left rests on your waist instead. His lips don't leave yours until he finds the vibrating device in the back pocket of his pants.

"Mm, hi- Dr. Kyung," He manages between the kisses. "Mhm- yes- she was just- cooking-"

Of all times to call...

"Right- the blood test- Mhm-"

Then he abruptly screeches to a halt, and your lips are left alone like ditching a puppy along the street.

"Ugh, will you hang up and just-"

"No, shut up, kitten," He shows you his palm as he transfers more attention to the person on the other end of the line, his left hand still gentle on your waist.

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to the pan and pour out your dinners into two plates that you bring to the table.

"It's my blood test," You mumble to yourself, annoyed. After setting down the food, you finally turn around to look at him, hands on your hips. Your lips are already parted to ask him to hang up and just come for dinner if it's nothing important, but he beats you to it.

"Kitten," The phone is held a distance away from his ear, his eyes flickering like satellites in the sky. "You're pregnant."

[kirkwallgremlin]

Memories of a Little Boy

1873 words, Carver & Malcolm Hawke featuring his relationship with Hawke and Bethany. Brothers can be a pain in the ass, especially when you're the one that always seems to get in trouble. Carver talks about the latest problem his brother is causing with their father.

[read on ao3]

“Go away,” Carver shouted, kicking the sticks he’d been building with aside in frustration as the entire thing crumbled to the ground again. Garrett just poked his tongue out. “This is why nobody likes mages.”

“Carver!” he heard their mother snap and he spun in alarm, not realising she had exited the house, let alone moved close enough to hear them.

Of course she’d heard him and not seen Garrett being a pest. It always happened like that.

“Apologise to your brother,” she told him, the look on her face telling him that he was in big trouble. But Carver stood silently looking at her, his fists balled defiantly by his sides. His lip wobbled but he clenched his jaw, determined not to let any of them see it.

Garrett should be apologising to him. He was the one using his stupid magic to make things impossible for Carver for absolutely no reason except to be the most annoying person in the world.

“He deserved it,” he said, watching his mother’s frown deepen. He knew he was in trouble, knew he’d only get in more trouble by refusing to apologise, but he couldn’t. Apologising was like admitting he was wrong and he wasn’t.

Tears burned in his eyes, threatening to fall and he tried to blink them away. The effort of holding them back made his throat hurt.

Garrett folded his arms, standing beside their mother. He poked his tongue out again and Carver stamped his foot, frustrated.

“You always take his side,” he yelled. “You like him better because he’s a mage. But I’d be happier if the Templars came and took him away.”

He knew he’d gone too far but he felt like sometimes it was true and the words were out there now. Determined not to let either of them see him cry, he turned and ran, heading away from the house, hoping he wouldn’t run into anybody else.

“Carver Aristide Hawke!” he heard their mother yell after him, the full name further compounding evidence that he was in Big Trouble. “You come back here right now.”

Maybe by the time he came back, she’d be less mad and he wouldn’t be in as much trouble.

Maybe he wouldn’t come back. That’d show them.

There was a rocky hill near the lake outside the village and Carver found himself there, tucked in behind a boulder where he could keep himself slightly hidden from the main road. He didn’t know how he felt, really. Angry yes, at Garrett, at their mother, at himself. Upset. Frustrated. He felt like he was shaking.

A tuft of grass grew nearby, almost out of arm’s reach and he scowled at it, imagining it was Garrett’s head. If he focused hard enough, maybe he’d be able to do something magic to it. Set it on fire. Freeze it. Shake it out of the ground or suck the life out of it like mages could apparently do.

Nothing happened.

Nothing ever happened when he tried. Not like the others. Not like Garrett or Bethany.

He ripped the grass out of the ground instead, flinging it away as hard as he could.

“Whoa there,” somebody said and Carver curled in on himself, legs tucked up against his chest. “Careful, Junior. You’ll take somebody’s head off.”

His father came into view beside the rock. He didn’t look angry but Carver didn’t want to take any chances. If he was here, then Mother must have told him that something had happened. He just hoped she hadn’t told him what Carver had said.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

The urge to cry was still there and Carver didn’t trust himself to answer. Instead he just shook his head. He really wasn’t sure if he was saying no, I don’t mind or no, you can’t, but his father sat beside him anyway.

“Want to talk about it?”

Carver just pulled out another tuft of grass, throwing that one away too. It didn’t go anywhere near as far as he hoped, the weight of the plant not enough to stop it from falling frustratingly short.

His father pressed something against his hand and he took it silently. A rock, one of the small fragments broken from the larger rocks around them.

“This one’s a bit heavier than grass. Might travel a little further,” he said as Carver wrapped his fingers around it. Carver glanced at him quickly, looking away when he thought their eyes might meet, pulling his limbs tighter around himself. “Just aim that way, away from the path. We don’t want to be responsible for any injuries.”

The edge of the rock was rough under Caver’s skin as he ran his thumb along the broken edge. He finally gave in, releasing himself slightly from the ball he’d curled into, pulling his arm back as he threw it as far he could, the distance much more satisfying than the grass had been. Before he even had time to lower his arm, another rock was being offered.

“Think you can make it all the way to the water?” his father challenged him, lifting his own rock. “I bet I can.”

None of their rocks made it even close to the water, but Carver didn’t really care. It felt good to throw them, like he was throwing parts of his anger and frustration away with every pebble.

“Hey Junior, this one looks like a heart,” his father said, holding the rock up to Carver. Carver did his best not to smile as he took it.

“Can I keep it?” he asked shyly and his father laughed, nodding as Carver slipped the rock into his pocket, flipping it between his fingers. It was the perfect size to hold.

“So Junior, ready to tell me what happened yet?”

“Garrett was using his magic on me,” Carver said, still fiddling with the rock in his pocket, trying to stop his mood from dipping too much again. “I was trying to build a wall so Bethany and I could be knights attacking a castle and he set one of my sticks on fire. And then he kept making the ground shake so they’d fall over. And he wouldn’t stop even though I kept telling him to.”

“Ah. We’ve been practicing that one,” his father said. “I wondered why he was so enthusiastic about practicing it. I’ll talk to him about that.”

“He always does things like that. But then I always get in trouble. Mother didn’t even want to hear what happened. She just yelled at me when he was the one who did something wrong.”

Carver’s lip wobbled as he gripped his new rock tightly. He ran his thumb over the smooth surface, rubbing circles against it.

“Must have been frustrating,” he said and Carver sniffed, trying to stop his nose from running like it was threatening to do. He nodded.

“I didn’t mean what I said though. About nobody liking mages or the templars taking him away. I’d miss him if that happened.”

“I know. And I’m sure Garrett does too. ” His father wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in for a sideways hug. “It’s easy to say things you don’t mean when you’re angry. But it’s important to be careful. You can’t always take things back once they’re said or done.”

“I know.” Carver looked down at the ground. He’d felt guilty about it ever since the words had left his mouth. “Why do you all get to be magic though? Why am I the only one who isn’t?”

When he and Bethany were younger, they’d pretend to be mages like their father, bravely casting their spells in the privacy of their own homes, with nobody around to wonder how the Hawke children knew so much about magic. Then Garrett had discovered his power and the twins had been fascinated, wondering what it was like, wondering if they would be magic too or if they’d be like their mother.

They shared so much that they always imagined they’d share their magic or lack thereof as well. But then Bethany had thrown somebody across a field trying to protect Carver and now he sometimes felt like he was losing her. Instead of the two of them playing together, she’d disappear with Garrett and their father to practice, doing Maker knows what, while he was left behind.

Now, instead of Carver and Bethany, a united force against the world, against Garrett, he was the one on the outside.

He’d tried so hard to make something magic happen, so that he could be like his sister, practicing with his father and his siblings, but no matter how hard he tried, how hard he’d practiced, nothing had ever happened. Bethany had told him how it felt, tried to teach him, but he was starting to lose hope.

“I don’t think anybody really knows how it works,” his father said. “It’s not always a blessing, Junior. It can be scary and dangerous and it’s forever. You’d always be looking over your shoulder, forever.”

Carver couldn’t help but think he didn’t care. He could face that danger with Bethany, both of them together. It wouldn’t matter, not if they were together. But instead, she was facing it alone.

“You have an important job too, Junior,” his father said. “There’s lots of ways to protect people without magic. Things you can learn to do when you don’t already have magic. Maybe we can practice those some more if you’d like to learn to fight.”

Carver looked at him, nodding with wide eyed enthusiasm. They’d done play fighting before but never proper teaching, and he liked the idea of that.

And what use would magic be against a sword? Maybe he’d finally get the upper hand on Garrett.

“Alright, tell you what, kiddo,” he said, ruffling Caver’s hair. “We head back and I’ll see what weapons I can find for you some time. You ready to go?”

“Can we start now?” asked Carver, still full of enthusiasm as he bounced to his feet. The rock in his pocket bounced against his leg as his father laughed.

“Maybe not today,” he said. “It’ll take time to find something and I’ll have a think about the best way we’re going to practice. I’m a little rusty with a sword, haven’t needed one much. But we’ll find something, won’t we, Carv?”

Carver nodded, a grin spreading across his face. Maybe he couldn’t do magic but he could protect his family in another way. Maybe he could be the best warrior in the Hawke family.

“You’ll still need to apologise to your brother and mother though.”

Carver frowned, his lower lip stuck out.

“Fine,” he said.

But even the idea of that, of admitting that he was wrong even though it was definitely Garrett’s fault, wasn’t enough to outshine his new excitement as he took his father’s hand and they headed home.

If being a mage was so dangerous, then maybe the reason he wasn’t one was because it was his job to keep his family safe instead.

Maybe he wasn’t ever meant to be Carver Hawke the mage.

Maybe he was meant to be Carver Hawke the warrior, protector of his family instead.

[dearcat1]

A Small Rant

TW: Abuse.

You know, for whatever reason, this puritanism thing making a comeback in fandom has been bugging me. It has been something that keeps popping up in my head and it just keeps coming back and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I couldn’t figure out exactly why it angers me so much, on a personal level. I just figured out why today. 

I usually don’t publish this sort of thing much except for this topic. Not because I’m blind to what’s happening in the world but because when I look around me and I see pain, I see chaos, I see injustice and I understand that sometimes, the only way we can keep fighting is if we take a moment every day to enjoy something uncomplicated. Something that allows us to unwind and recharge so that we can go on. I see my blogs as escapism, for myself and hopefully for my readers. I like to think that by publishing my stories, I give people the chance to take a small amount of time from their day and take a little step to the side. If only for a minute. 

And yet, as I said, this thing keeps bugging me, it keeps showing up in my mind and so, I took the time to sit down and swim through the murky waters that is my brain trying to make sense and I realized why. It’s fucking abuse, that’s why. It’s giving me flashbacks. Some of my readers might have read that one note where I made mention of it but I come from an abusive household, that’s how I grew up. It’s not something I usually talk about, especially not in my blogs. That’s because, once more, I want these blogs to be escapism, to be somewhere people can go and relax. Including myself. But it’s still part of what has made me who I am, no matter how much I despise that thought. It’s one of those ugly truths I’ve had to swallow. 

When people start talking about problematic, there’s no clear definition for it. It’s just what they think it is, what they decide it is at the moment. Plainly, it’s just their opinion. They claim they’re policing the fandom for the good of others but all I see is entitlement. What they are truly saying is: “You can’t write this, definitely can’t publish this and sure as hell can’t read this because I have decided that it hurts people. By myself, with no data to back me up and no mental health background to speak of.” This is a generalization, of course, but it’s what I mostly have seen in this ‘conversation’. But it’s not a conversation, there’s no interest in listening. The only interest is in obtaining compliance. Are you seeing it? Do you realize?

In the few cases where I see people actually having a conversation, explaining that sometimes writing about these things is a way of dealing with what has been done to us, the reply is usually along the lines of ‘don’t publish it’ or ‘that’s fucked up, that’s not how you should do that.’ And we, once more, should follow this advice because they know better. Do you know what that is? That’s gaslighting. That’s them telling you that the name-calling, the death threats, all of the violence they’re throwing at you would just go away if you just bent to them. If only you understood that they’re doing this for the wellbeing of others, and sometimes even yourself. 

My abuser used to say something similar to me, while he was hitting me, name-calling me and just generally ripping me apart, destroying who I was. He’d say: “This is happening because you have an attitude, because you refuse to listen to reason. If you only behaved yourself, there wouldn’t be a need for this.” Not so different, is it? It’s outstanding. 

And then some have the gall to go with the deceptive: “fine, explain your trauma to me so I can tell whether or not you should be allowed to do this.” Who died and made you king of the world? Your opinion is important but that does not, in any way, make it relevant. I, you, us, we owe these people no explanation. Why should I sit here and relieve my abuse for you to judge? Why should I sit here and allow you to step all over my boundaries like they're not there? Why should I lay bare years of pain and suffering followed by the slow dawning of realization and then, perhaps the hardest: years and years of desperately trying to grasp the pieces of who I used to be, of trying to decipher who I am and what’s a survival mechanism. The furious, helpless realization that I might never know! That I’m left with these broken pieces and some super glue and I have to make something out of it. 

Sometimes that means sitting down and writing what happened to me, changing it just enough to feel like I’m taking control back in a situation where it was snatched away from me. It hurts like hell but it’s the good sort of pain, like disinfecting a wound. It feels like hugging the little girl I used to be and letting her know that I got this now, I finally understand what was happening, that it was wrong, it was not my fault and it couldn’t have been. Who are you to tell me that I’m romanticizing the pain I lived through?

I’m glad you can read a situation like that and not see the messiness of it. But I lived it, I know how it breaks you apart. The knowledge that you might love somebody and yet you’re justified in fearing them. I’m glad you can read something like that and think it sounds poetic, or the image it paints is aesthetically pleasing. But when I wrote it, all I could think about is how something so beautiful can be so tainted. A sweet sort of poison that doesn’t even have the decency to make your death quick. You’re left there in pain and marked for the rest of your life. 

So maybe, instead of trying to put a flashlight through the broken pieces of me, you should take the time to look at the mirror and see the monster staring back. 

And maybe, just maybe, read the fucking tags.

In any case, I needed to share this. In case anybody needed the lightbulb moment, too. And just to get it off my chest.