#your name insert

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Ghosts Tell Me

~

Ghosts gather near the place where something bad is going to happen,

Danny with his ghost sense tends to notice before anyone else and tends to react outwardly before the danger even happens, gaining a reputation of seeing the future,

Ghosts also tell Danny things, causing Danny to know more about situations and the people around him, it comes of as suspicious.

~

Danny pulling away a snack from his coworker: "Careful your allergic to these ingredients!"

Coworker: "How the hell...I've never mentioned that to anyone."

~

Danny on a phone call with his friends while doing his nightly walks in Gotham: "Yeah so apparently the second Robin who is now Red Hood has very personal beef with the clown here cuz he got killed by him after being sold out by his bio mom, which really sucks for the poor guy."

Oracle who has been keeping an Eye on Danny cuz he's very suspicious from an outsiders pov: "Hey B, I think we have a problem."

~

Danny notices that the ghost in Gotham tends to gather where something bad is going to happen, the more they are the worse the situation will be: *glowing smoke leaves from his mouth* "Yikes! Very bad vibes here, nope!"

Gothamites who at this point recognize him and know the drill and quickly pack up their things to leave:

~

Just an Idea

[myosotisa]

‖ tags: smut, somnophilia, size kink, p in v, praise kink

‖ word count: 380

the two of you have had sex 3 times and you've never been able to take all of him because you just get too in your head about how huge he is. he's so patient with you, never rushing you, prioritizing your comfort over anything else. making suggestions to try to make it better, or saying he'll just fuck you with half so it doesn't hurt you, or that the two of you don't have to do anything at all if you don't want to.

you feel bad, self conscious, slightly ashamed, apologetic. he assures you it's more than fine, sex with you is amazing even if you can't take all of him. but. he knows it's all in your head. he knows your body can take it. he asks if you trust him and of course you say you do.

you wake up on your stomach, naked from the waist down and your shirt rolled up to your armpits. it's hot and sweaty and disorienting but holy shit what is that feeling?!

"there she is," he says in a deep voice, rough from how quiet he's trying to be. "good morning beautiful"

you go to say good morning back but it's cut off with an unexpected moan, a feeling deep inside you shifting. "feel that?" he murmurs, sounding a bit cheeky but so utterly pleased. to make his point more clear he rolls his hips, adjusting his thick cock inside you, and holy fucking shit he's balls deep.

"knew you could take it, baby," he says proudly when you gasp, fingers twisting in the sheets beneath you. he pulls back an inch or two and pushes back in, your back arching as you let out a choked moan. he's so deep, you've never felt anything like this before.

"just had to take your big, nervous brain out of the equation. knew it the whole time - your pussy was begging for it, crying for it. and now you're soaking me, sh-iiit, like you were made for my fat cock," he groans, continuing to slowly shift in and out of you, your muscles clenching around him on each drive forward. "so fucking perfect baby. just keep taking it like a champ and I promise to make you feel so good you'll never worry about me fucking you like this ever again."

[rotruff]

i love you more closed off f/os who find small ways to show their love comfortably. they might not be comfortable enough to bear their heart fully but they'll show you that it belongs to you in the way they might be a little more touchy than needed (putting their hand on your shoulder to get your attention, brushing up against you when they reach for something, rare little kisses on the hand or temple when they think you're asleep) or do little things for you (making coffee/tea or some small breakfast in the morning, doing little errands in your stead where they can, or even just letting you sleep in). they might not be ready to really let their love for you show, but they'll make sure that you know in any way that they can, it's important you know that you mean the world to them.

i love you more open f/os who wear their love for you on their sleeve. it's not out of naivety or anything like that, they just don't see any reason in hiding it, you're an important part of their life and they'll give plenty of space to show that in the way they might hold onto you (holding your hand as you two walk around, throwing an arm around your shoulders while you two talk to someone, giving little kisses on the cheek) or how they think of you even when you aren't around (something other people says makes them think of something you mentioned, they'll walk past stores and look through windows and unthinkingly fixate on something that looks like a thing you'd like, they'll talk about something you guys did the other day with fondness warm in their voice). they just can't help but keep you in their thoughts and need to show that.

[ proship + adjacent dni and don't steal my post ]

[spaciebabie]

sun: my bad dawg.

[tsukisrants]

TIME TO WORK

Park Seonghwa x Reader

Warnings: Rough sex, Name calling, Slut shaming, Sex in exchange of money, Kind of Hate Sex?, Spit, Anal play, Choking, Dom/sub undertones, Humiliation, Degradation, Slapping, Spanking, Creampie!!, Squirting, Unprotected Sex, Hair Pulling, Rough Oral Sex…,

Word Count: 9.268

“You’re in a desperate need for a job, and you go and ask for help to Park Seonghwa, one of the richest men in the country. Thing his, you broke his heart years ago: now he wants payback.”

————————smut under the cut ————————

Waiting has never been a problem for you.

Not once, expect for now.

See, you’re pretty prideful of your patience and of the way you can handle situations when experiencing stress.

Now? You look like a damn fool.

You’re not even sure you can actually recognize yourself, if you were to be completely honest.

Standing in front of that door, desperate and pathetic.

Your arms are shaking, your hands feel cold and weak.

If you were to grab a butterfly, the little thing would probably laugh at you and bite you. 
And we all know butterflies don’t actually bite.

Do they?

You have no idea.

Right now, your only thought is: will I be able to make it?

Will I look like an idiot in front of him?

Will he laugh at me?

Will I like it?

“Miss? Miss…?”

What? What?

You turn you head and you see the girl: confused eyes, hair tied up neatly and arms busy carrying so many papers.

“Oh- Hi… I booked an appointment a while ago? I think one of your colleagues let me in, I’m Y/N…”, you stutter, clearing your throat as you try to get out of your own head and focus on the situation that you inevitably have to deal with.

“Right! Yes, of course”, says the girl. She smiles, but it’s fake. A smile made out of obligation, out of compassion. It’s her job, nothing more. She doesn’t care about you: just like you don’t care about her.

She’s just a mean to an end, and she knows it.

“Please, follow me, dear. Mr Park is ready to meet you”, she adds, waving her hands towards the door, suggesting you to use those useless limbs of yours and start to move.

You like this girl: she looks perfect in her role.

She doesn’t give a fuck about anything, and she makes you feel at ease, somehow.

She has no idea why you’re here, but in her eyes, her bored eyes, you sense that she feels pity for the dumb girl standing in front of the door of one of the most powerful men in South Korea.

The door is closer.

You’re walking and you don’t even notice it until it’s too late not to.

The door handle is shiny, glistening under the lights.

You want to scream at it.

To rip it off the door and run away: that thing probably would cover your rent cost for the whole month if you sold it.

“Mr Park, your appointment is here”, you hear.

You’re gonna faint.

You so are gonna faint.

You don’t.

You don’t how you manage not to, but the only thing that matters is that you didn’t.

There’s really no need for any other reasons for you to feel like an idiot right now.

The ones you have are already more than enough.

“Let them in, thank you.”

Ok, now you’ll faint.

No way.

It’s been a while since you last heard his voice, but it changed so much whilst remaining so… warm. So him.

You take a deep breath, because now the door isn’t just closer: it’s open.

Fist thing you notice?

The smell.

Or, well, the richness of it.

With all your senses you only are able to perceive one thing: power.

Power and money.

The door closes behind you.

The girl not by your side anymore.

You’re alone now.

But not really, because when you finally raise your head you’re finally able to see him.

Park Seonghwa.

The man everyone either wants, or wants to be.

The man you’ve had, if only for a few months, back when you both were stupid teens.

The same man that is now looking at you, staring you down with that piercing gaze of his.

It’s hard for you to open your mouth and speak up, but you know that you have to, and quickly.

It’s hard, when you have Korea’s wet dream right in front of you.

“H-Hi”, you say.

Which is actually pretty pathetic, especially considering the way your voice shakes and the fact that you should be at least attempting some sort of professionalism given the circumstances.

Well, at least it makes him laugh.

Which means that yes, he recognized you. 


And yes, you actually don’t mind being laughed at.

You don’t know if it’s a thing for you or just the fact that you don’t mind it if he’s the one laughing, which in your opinion would be fair.

“Hello, Y/N. To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit?”

Well, fuck.

First thing first, he said your name: and he made it sound like the nastiest thing in the world.

Or maybe you’re just a slut, you can’t really decide.

Whatever.

And the sarcasm.

He’s still mad at you, just like you expected.

You did disappear from his life with no explanation and flew to another country whilst in a relationship with him, after all.

In your defence, you were a dumb kid: you were younger than he was and desperately in love with him. Saying goodbye would have killed you, so you made the most childish and selfish decision ever: you just went away.

One day you guys were holding hands and making plans, and the day after you were just… gone.

You had to leave everything behind cause your mom and dad divorced, and you mother couldn’t bare to keep on living in the same country as the man that ruined her life.

So you followed her, and you two moved on together.


You forgot all about perfect Park Seonghwa, or that’s what you like to tell yourself.

Because if you really had forgotten all about the man, you wouldn’t be standing in his office ready to humiliate yourself.

“W-well… you see, I’m… I thought that maybe…”, words keep on falling from your lips, now all bitten from the nervousness you had to endure waiting for this moment.

Seonghwa isn’t impressed.

He takes his hands out of the pockets of his slacks, only to bring them to his chest. He crosses his arms and slightly tilts his head to the side, an eyebrow raised and a judgment mixed with a not so well hidden amusement written all over his face.

“Y-You t-thought what, exactly?”

Ok, you didn’t expect that.

Mocking you already?

A sign, that’s what this is. A sign that you should turn your heels and fucking run as far as possible from this man.

He looks possessed.

He looks so mean, despite his ethereal beauty.

Obviously, you don’t run.

You wouldn’t be here in the first place if you had any self preservation or respect.

“M’sorry, Hwa, I really am. I know I’ve been”, you try to say, but he cuts you off.

He doesn’t let you finish.

“Who’s Hwa? It’s Mr Park to you”, he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Like you’re a stupid fucking idiot just cause you thought you could refer to him like you used to.

“Sir, if I’m feeling kind and if you’ve earned it”, he adds, dropping himself on his pompous chair.

His legs are slightly spread: not enough to be vulgar, but just right. To show dominance, and to make you see that he really owns this place.

Not like you had any doubts, but whatever.

It’s not like you mind it anyways.

You wish you had any smart come-back for his tone, but you don’t.

And, well, you’re in no position to be a jerk: you came here to beg, after all.

“M-Mr Park…” you start, and he chuckles.

“That’s more like it”, he comments, and you don’t miss the way his tongue goes to wet those sinful lips of his.

You follow every single one of his movements, as if you’re trying to study them, as if staring at him could help you achieve your goals.

Only thing is helping you achieve is getting wet in front of your ex-boyfriend, but that’s not the point.

“I know I have no right to come here and ask you for help, but-“, you take a deep breath, “I- I lost my job and I’m alone and I have rent and bills and I’m behind with my payments… if I don’t hand the money to my landlord tonight they’re gonna kick me out and…”

He looks surprised, amused, confused and much more.

You, well… you look humiliated, that’s for sure.

But you knew it was bound to happen, and you’d rather beg for mercy than sleep under a bridge or who knows where else.

“And you’re telling me this because…” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer to that.

He’s enjoying this just like you expected.

“C-cause I thought t-that maybe you could help, l-like what’s some money to you, anyways? And you and I, we have a past, you’d be helping an old friend?”

You’re so shameless, it’s disgusting.

But, desperate times call for desperate way, or something like that.

You just know that you need the money, and you need them now.

He laughs, out loud. Shaking his head and muttering about how absurd this whole situation is, as if you don’t know it already. But whatever:

“I’ll pay you back, of course. Just… give me some time and I promise, Hw- Mr Park, I promise I’ll pay you back.”

He gets up.

He looks mean, and his face hides something.

He looks huge, and you stand in place, frozen.

You’re breathing heavily, and you notice that your hands are shaking.

Your legs, too.

Cold sweat is running down your spine, and you feel lost.

He gets closer.

He’s so beautiful, and he gets more handsome with every step he takes towards your trembling figure.

“Money is nothing to me, you’re right. But you really think that, after everything you did to me, I’m just gonna pay your debts? After humiliating me like that, breaking my heart? Are you really that much of a shameless bitch, Y/N?”

His voice is sharp, and his words hit you like daggers.

But, to be honest, you were waiting for them to come. You knew they were.

That doesn’t make them less hurtful.

Seonghwa is right in front of you, and to look at him in the eyes you have to slightly tilt your head, cause he’s so much taller than you now.

He smells rich, and warm. Different than he used to, more mature.

He’s a man now, that much is very clear to you.

His proximity makes you even more nervous, but at the same time the familiarity of it gives you some confidence.

“I-I’m sorry, I swear I am”, you murmur, and you notice that tears are starting to fill your eyes.

He looks pleased at the sight of it, and your belly tightens at the implications of him being engaged in your suffering.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” he repeats after you, chuckling as tears spill from your eyes, crossing your reddening cheeks.

“You want my money, Y/N? You want a bed and a roof on your head?”, he asks, and one of his hands unexpectedly comes up to your face, gently caressing it.

His touch is light and delicate, but you still feel shivers run through your body.

You nod desperately, murmuring a “yes, please” that he barely hears.

“Then you‘ll have to earn it”, he says.

His face is unreadable, but you can’t believe that, despite everything, he’d be willing to help. You feel so happy you could die, and you’re ready to do anything in order to save yourself from the streets.

“I will! I have my degree and I’ll be more than happy to-“, he stops you, and you frown.

From his expression it seems like he’s ready to make fun of you.

“A degree?”, he asks, and you nod, ready to explain yourself, but he doesn’t allow you to.

“You don’t need a degree to suck my dick, Y/N.”

The world is silent.

Your blood is too loud. You feel your heartbeat and his, you feel everything and nothing at the same time.

You’re confused, but not a single word comes out your mouth.

After that, he doesn’t say a word. He just goes a few steps back and leans against his desk.

His legs are open, and you see the bulge of his cock that’s clearly starting to get hard.

You don’t move, you just try to get your brain to function.

What does this mean? Is he serious?

He must be joking, right?

But he isn’t, and you know it: this is payback.

It was going too well, to smoothly.

And now, after all these years, he’s finally granted the chance to humiliate you and destroy you the way you did to him.

The thing is: you need the money. You really do, and you did say that you’d do anything to get it.

But this? This means whoring yourself out.

This means becoming a slut, and nothing more.

With this thought in mind, you move your first steps: not towards the door, to run as fast as possible away from him, but towards his imposing figure.

He laughs, almost as if he doesn’t actually believe what’s happening in front of him.

“You have no shame, do you? Are you really this pathetic?”

As you fall on your knees in front of him, you can’t do anything but agree with his words

He mutters a few curses, and you take the deepest breath ever known to man.

Then, you look up, and are met with the bulge of his cock, tight inside his expensive slacks.

“What a fucking slut”, he says, before moving his arms and grabbing you by the hair.

He forces your face against his crotch, and you almost fall: you find yourself grabbing his thighs in order not to.

He’s rough, and nothing like the gentle Seonghwa you knew and loved as a teenager: the one that would touch you as if you’d break, like you were a delicate flower.

You don’t really miss him.

“Wish I could call everyone from school to let them know that you’re sucking my dick for money, that you’re a worthless slut that would take dick for a few bucks”, he says, pushing his hips against your face, rubbing his clothed cock over it.

The smell of it is intense, and the weight of it scares you: it’s huge, you can tell. So fucking big that it’s not fair.

Your mind is racing, your heart is pounding, and you can feel the tears streaming down your face as you realize the depth of your desperation. But you push those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. You’re ready to do whatever it takes to get the money you need.

As you lean forward, ready to fulfill his demands, a voice in your head screams at you to stop.

This isn't right. This isn't who you are.

But the fear of being homeless, of losing everything, pushes you forward.

That fear, and that humiliation, they also make you wetter than you’ve ever been before.

Shame burns into your chest, flames running through your veins.

“Bet you’d suck their cocks, too, wouldn’t you?”

His words sting in the most delicious way, and you find yourself purring against the big cock in front of your face.

“Wouldn’t you?” he asks again, grabbing your hair and forcing your face slightly upwards, enough to have your gazes meet.

It’s exhilarating to say the least, this feeling of shame and submission that is swimming through your shaking body.

“Y-yours, want- want your cock, not- only yours,” you mumble, your brain barely functioning at this point as you’re way too inebriated by the arousal building inside you.

He seems pleased, very much so. His tongue rapidly escapes his mouth and you watch, enchanted, as it wets his juicy lips.

I find yourself staring and wishing that tongue could be inside your pussy, forcing it open as more fluid escapes from it, leaving your panties wet and humid.

“Then take it out and get to work. Time is money, isn’t it? Don’t you wanna earn more?” he chuckles, moving around his seat.

You see him bend over a little and soon after that he takes his wallet, pulling out a shiny banknote.

You watch cautiously as he waves it in front of your face, and the image that appears before your eyes is one of the most humiliating and exciting you have ever seen.

You startle when, unexpectedly, he drops it against your helpless body.

The banknote brushes against your face before falling on your thighs, and this only motivates you to do better, to show him how much you are worth.

“Thank you, sir,” you whisper, finally getting to work and working his pants. You unfasten his belt, the sound loud and steady as your breathing increases and gets heavier.

It takes some effort, but you actually manage to take his pants down his thighs and have them reach the floor along with his boxer briefs.

They pool obscenely at his ankles, and he makes himself comfortable on his expensive chair, spreading his legs wider and wider.

You find the courage to look up at his cock, and the sight of it is enough to pull a moan from you, one that leaves you even more ashamed of yourself.

“So big,” you mutter out, pressing your own legs together from when your kneeling to find some release, to soothe the burning need to be filled up that’s been rushing through your body.

Your pussy clenches around nothing and it’s pathetic, because he hasn’t even touched you once.

Guess you’re just that much of a slut, after all.

“Yeah? You like it, slut? You like this big cock?” he asks, pushing his hips upwards and making said cock move in front of your face.

It’s thick, long, and so, so hard.

The tip of it is the prettiest shade of red and pink, and it’s glistening with his arousal.

Veins run through the length of it and you can see it pulse with the need to be shoved inside something.

That something is you.

Cause, after all, that’s your purpose here.

To be a hole for him to fuck into.

To be a thing, a nothing else. Nothing more than that.

“I love it, love your cock,” you whisper, reaching out to grab it at the base with your hands.

Seonghwa stops you, grabbing harshly at your wrists and forcing your body closer to his as you stumble forwards.

“No hands,” he orders, smiling maliciously.

“Lick it, start with my balls,” he orders, biting at his plump lower lip, his eyes shining with an intense darkness.

His words are, unsurprisingly, harsh and mean.

And, well, just as unsurprisingly, you find yourself loving them and enjoying the rush that they provide to you.

The air around you starts to get heavy and dense, and it’s almost like you can feel the weight of it as it presses down against your flushed skin.

Your blood is loud as it swims through your veins, and you hear beats fast, the sound of it reaching your ears.

His tone leaves out any possible refusal, so you just… obey.

It’s empowering, exhilarating.

It’s everything you’ve always craved without even knowing it.

Slowly, you lean over and breathe in, the powerful scent of his arousal hitting you and invading your senses, dominating your whole being.

The only thing that’s in your mind right now is the irresistible need of pleasing him and showing him that you’re worth his money, nothing else.

With that thought in mind, you finally get into work.

Your mouth salivating and wetting itself, you stick your tongue out and fulfill his wishes, lapping at his balls and nuzzling against the sensitive skin.

The groan he lets out vibrates through the room and sends shivers all the way down your spine.

“That’s it,” he grunts, as he pushes his hips forwards and works at his tie, untying it and proceeding then to open his nice dress shirt, button after button, showing inches of defined skin, muscles tensed with the way pleasure is circling around his body.

He’s rather magnificent, sitting in front of you and holding so much power, so much energy that it feels like the room is going to implode with it.

“Good girl,” he moans, forcing his hips upwards as you take them inside your mouth, the weight of his sack filling you up as you lick at it, feeling the skin and its texture against your tongue, moaning as your nose presses against the base of his dick, making it harder to breathe normally.

His words force a moan out of your mouth, too, and he notices it, chuckling softly through his low moans.

You feel something at your neck and notice soon enough that what’s now circling your throat isn’t is hand, no.

It’s his tie, forcing you closer to his balls and basically working as a fucking leash.

“Look at you, such an obedient little bitch, aren’t you?”

The way your hips stutter and wave doesn’t help, and you feel like a puppy wiggling their tail when presented with a treat.

“Bark,” he orders, allowing you to breathe and leaving your mouth empty, a trail of spit connection his balls, now shining and wet, with your parted, and roughed up lips.

You blush profoundly, your cheeks turning a crimson red as you consider his order.

Barking feels completely dehumanizing, and your hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed, not in the slightest.

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, one of his eyebrows lifting up as he eyes you curiously, as if posing a challenge to you, daring you to try and refuse to follow one of his orders.

“It’s embarrassing…” you whisper, breathing heavily and trying to avoid looking at him in the eyes, failing at it when he tugs at the tie resting against your neck, making you get closer to the cock standing proudly in front of your face.

“Do I look like I fucking care?”

And soon enough, a bark is escaping your mouth, faint and barely audible.

It’s not enough, he says.

You bark again, loudly this time, shaking from where you’re kneeling and feeling the wetness between your legs get more difficult to ignore.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? I’d say you’re a natural,” he snarls, laughing at you as he looks down at your body.

Tears of utter humiliation fill your pleading eyes, and the sight of it makes Seonghwa groan deeply.

He grabs his own dick at the base, giving it a few pumps, before hitting you in the face with the tip, smearing his precum all over your flushed face.

One of the tears you were fighting back betray you, escaping your lashed and running down your cheek.

Seonghwa licks his lips and rubs the tip of his dick against it, wetting his cock with your tears only to start rubbing it against your lips, making you taste your humiliation along with his arousal.

It’s salty and sour and sweet altogether, and you already find yourself getting addicted to it, needing more and more and more.

So you get your tongue out, lapping at the shiny tip of his cock. You circle around the head, moaning at the feeling of warmth that spreads through your tongue.

“Tastes good,” you mutter out, licking fervently at his cock as he keeps on stroking himself, grunting from where he’s sitting.

You go even further than just staying there, licking at it, and you take his wrist into your hand and pull it off his own dick, surprising him with your determination.

Seonghwa lets you have some fun with it, allowing you to reach out to grab the length of his cock.

You have it in your hands, finally.

You stroke it once, twice, before bending over a little bit to push the head inside your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking gently at it to try and taste as much as possible of his delicious juice.

“Fuck,” he groans, using one of his hands to keep your hair out of your face, giving him space to look at your eyes as you get your mouth stuffed full of his thick cock.

You take your time, eager to savor every drop of his pleasure, to give yourself to him and make him satisfied like never before.

His cock slides between your parted lips with extreme ease, filling your mouth completely, giving you a sensation of fullness never felt before and leaving you inevitably curious to know how it would feel if he filled you up elsewhere too.

The reddened tip of his cock meets the back of your throat and choking sounds escape from your mouth, and when he hears them he just moans even more, louder than before.

He enjoys watching you struggle to take more in your mouth and it pushes you to relax your throat and let his big cock fill you completely, taking your breath away for a few seconds, and making spit fall from your lips and down your chin.

It’s so fucking messy and dirty and it makes your head spin with shame and arousal.

Your whole face is wet with a mixture of spit and tears and precum and you find yourself wanting and needing more of it.

“You look so good with your mouth stuffed full of my cock, this is exactly what you were born for,” he groans, pushing his trembling hips upwards and forcing another choking sound out of you, at which he utters out a few curses.

“I’ll double the money I was gonna give you if you bend over the desk and let me fuck you raw in the pussy, what do you say? Want a new dress? Some fucking new shoes?” he asks, still rutting his hips against your face and forcing you to swallow his whole cock down your aching throat.

You should probably refuse. Sucking Seonghwa's cock is one thing, but this? This would mean going way beyond, and the thought sends your mind into complete turmoil.

He seems to have little patience, and that's why he roughly grabs you by the hair and pulls his hard cock out of your mouth, leaving you empty and gasping.

"So? I don't have all day, Y/n," he asks, running his own hand along his cock, wet and slick thanks to your saliva that’s now coating it and slapping you in the face with the red tip, making you hiss at the impact.

“I want- I want three times the money for that,” you say, challenging him to deny your request, to say no and refuse.

He doesn’t.

“Let’s do four, since I also want to play with your asshole,” he smiles, bending over towards you and patting at your cheek like one would do with a puppy.

You gasp and try to find something to snarl back at him, but nothing comes out of your mouth, nothing but a little whimper that only serves to make him feel even more powerful.

Seonghwa stands up, and you notice how he is more or less dressed: his pants fallen to his ankles along with his boxers, the jacket resting on the back of the chair, the expensive white shirt completely open, showing off his sculpted chest and the magnificence of his body, covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Now that he is standing, Seonghwa looms even more over you, making your breath catch and your poor heart beat even faster.

Seonghwa grabs you by the hair, and the sudden movement forces you to stand up and follow his will.

"You're too dressed, what kind of slut are you?" he asks, grabbing the fabric of your blouse and pulling it slightly. In response, you bite your lip and decide to make amends, quickly unbuttoning your shirt and letting it fall softly to the ground.

You're not wearing a bra, you never do.

The air hitting your nipples only makes them more turgid, and your skin is crossed by countless shivers.

He gasps at the sight of your exposed skin, and it makes you feel so good, to be looked at with such want, with pure and utter hunger and desire.

Seeing Seonghwa burning with the desire to possess you gives you a courage that you probably wouldn't have otherwise, so you push yourself further, unbuttoning your skirt and letting it fall forgotten at your feet.

Black lace panties adorn your body, and you feel the wet and soaked fabric rubbing against your most sensitive spot.

You are left only with the soft white knee-high socks and your shiny black loafers, standing in front of one of the richest and most powerful men in Korea.

“That’s more like it,” he chuckles, licking his lips and looking at you from head to toe, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“You’re so hot, Y/n. You made the right choice, coming here. This little body of yours was made to be fucked, and what better way to earn money than spread your legs and let me do just that, huh?” he murmurs, as one of his hands goes down to his cock. He strokes himself as he watches you, and it makes your skin burn, to be looked at in such a dirty, naughty manner.

His tie is still around your neck, the only garment covering you along with your panties and knee-high socks.

The black fabric is in perfect contrast with your skin, and even though the tie is very light, it feels immensely heavy where it rests.

"Fuck me," you whisper to Seonghwa, because you too are starting to feel extremely horny and in need of attention.

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, and his hand collides with your cheek, making you turn your face to the side.

The blow wasn't overly strong, but still impactful. Enough to make you catch your breath for a second and to remind you who is in control here.

"Rude. Where are your manners?" Seonghwa asks, dangerously approaching you and grabbing your chin, squeezing the skin and forcing you to look at him.

"Please, I beg you, sir, fuck me," you whimper, now completely abandoned to him and totally under his control.

"Now, that's better," Seonghwa whispers, and shortly after he makes your lips collide in a quick and fierce kiss. He bites your lip, making you moan against his mouth, before pulling away from you.

"Good girl. You act all tough, but you just want someone to put you in your place, don't you? Want me to show you who’s in charge?"

His words are exactly what you were hoping for, and the wetness between your legs increasing only confirms thqt.

You nod. What would be the point in denying anything? Right. There’s no point, and you know it. He know is too, it’s pretty obvious. He’s always been able to read you, and this is the same. Years passed by, but deep down you guys still know each other.

Seonghwa, at your admission and your being so yielding, can only swell with pride and satisfaction.

He approaches you, and the world spins wildly: he grabs you by the hair, pulls you towards the desk, and forces you to bend over it, pushing your head against the polished and intensely scented mahogany of his desk.

You have your ass up, covered only by your panties.

You hear Seonghwa swear and soon one of his hands clashes with the sensitive skin of your butt, and he gives you a strong spank.

You flinch, gasp, and squirm, and he takes it as encouragement to hit you again: two, three, four times.

Now the mark of his hand lies on your skin, and you feel completely possessed and owned by Seonghwa.

"You have no idea how many times I've thought about you over the years. How many times I've thought about hurting you, having you all to myself even just once," Seonghwa confesses, running his hands over your ass, caressing you heavily.

His words are intoxicating.

"I've thought about you too, I swear, Seonghwa. Sir. I shouldn't have, but I did. I-I never forgot about you," you whisper, instinctively moving your hips upwards, trying to keep his hands on you for as long as possible.

You're not lying, you really mean what you said. Seonghwa has always been a constant in your life, it's undeniable. Your biggest regret and remorse. Your biggest and burning desire.

"Shut up, Y/n," Seonghwa commands, and you feel him grab the expensive fabric of your panties. A few seconds later, a loud noise fills the room.

He's torn them off, reduced them to shreds.

Pieces of fabric fall to your feet and your wet pussy is now completely exposed to him.

You feel drops of pleasure escaping from your trembling pussy and wetting your thighs, and you try to relieve the looming pressure by rubbing your legs together, but Seonghwa stops you.

He first grabs your hips, then your ass.

Seonghwa spreads your cheeks open, and you hear the air move as he bends down and spits on you.

He fucking spits on you.

His saliva runs down from your ass and to your pussy, adding wetness and naughtiness to the mixture.

He’s not satisfied, so he spits again, this time closer to your asshole.

You feel his breath against your sensitive skin and you find yourself holding your breath.

“This little hole, fuck, I wish I could just fuck it,” he groans, knowing damn well that he can’t just do that.

“N-Next time…” you utter out, wiggling your hips to try and meet his touch.

“You plan on coming here to get fucked more? Are you that greedy, you little whore?” he asks, laughing a little as he leans over you to just go and bite the skin of your ass, still covered by his handprint.

“S-so greedy, sir. I’ll come back whenever you want, do whatever you want,” you confess with a shaking voice, making Seonghwa laugh at you for how pathetic you are.

“You really have no shame. What a fucking slut,” he adds, before actually going silent.

What you feel next makes your eyes roll back and your hands reach out to the end of the desk to grab the wood and gain some support out of it.

His wet tongue is sliding against your little hole, wetting it more and more and making it pulse with the need to be filled up.

It’s a foreign feeling, to have someone eat your ass out like this, but Seonghwa seems like a starved man as he holds your cheeks open and dives in, licking and kissing and spitting and making your whole world turn upside down.

“Tastes good,” he groans, breath heavy and voice full of lust.

He pushes the tip of his tongue inside of your ass, and it makes you see stars.

Seonghwa fucks you with it, again and again, making slurping sounds.

One of his hands slides down and you feel one of his long, slender fingers rub against your wet hole.

“Just a finger, what do you say?” he murmurs, asking you for permission.

A permission you can’t help but grant him, nodding and murmuring a “please” that you’re not even sure was audible enough.

Seonghwa wastes no time, and soon his thumb makes its way into your tight and warm hole.

The sensation is unparalleled: you feel completely filled.

It doesn't matter that it's just a finger, you feel like you could explode at any moment.

Your legs tremble uncontrollably, and loud moans escape from your lips.

Seonghwa also moans, as he fucks your asshole with his finger.

You are already lost in pleasure, and he has not even touched your pussy yet.

It makes you feel really dirty, really perverse.

You feel like an actual whore begging to be filled.

“So tight,” he comments, and you feel this cock being shoved against the back of your thighs, as he smears precum over your skin and rubs against your legs to get some relief to his aching dick.

“Please, I want your cock, sir. Fuck my pussy, please, please, H-Hwa…” you beg, trying to get him to finally push his dick inside of you, and you feel already close to the verge of tears with how desperate you are.

“Here it comes,” he murmurs, finally giving the both of you what you crave the most.

With your thumb still inside you, you feel Seonghwa moving behind you.

He grabs his cock at the base and brings the tip closer to you, rubbing it against the sensitive and wet skin of your pussy, against your lips, right between your juicy folds, and pushing against your swollen and red clitoris.

A moan escapes your lips, and you find yourself spreading your legs even wider and begging him to put his cock inside you once and for all.

Finally, Seonghwa rubs the swollen tip of his cock against your wet hole, teasing you for just a few seconds before pushing it inside your pussy.

In one hard thrust, Seonghwa buries his thick cock inside you, making you scream in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

You feel so full, with both of your holes filled by him, his cock pressing inside you and stretching you completely.

You don't even notice a drop of saliva escaping from your lips and running down your chin, and if you could see yourself, you too would think of yourself as a whore.

“Fuck, this pussy is so good,” groans Seonghwa, and you make the effort of turning your head to try and look at him as he fills you up.

His head is thrown back, his neck exposed and lucid with sweat, and he seems completely lost in pleasure as he starts to rut inside of your pussy, fucking you and making you his.

For the first moments, Seonghwa's thrusts are not calculated, but dictated by his need to feel something warm enveloping his cock.

He enjoys the moment and ignores your helpless body, seeking only his pleasure.

Seonghwa's cock slides easily into your body, your wet pussy emitting dirty and exciting sounds as it is filled by his cock.

You tremble under his thrusts, and soon Seonghwa accelerates the movements of his hips, sinking into you with more force and precision.

He fucks you like he would fuck a whore, pushing all the way into your pussy and moving his finger into your ass.

He is not completely satisfied, though.

That's why you see him bend over you, pushing his cock even deeper into your pussy. Seonghwa brings two fingers of the hand that is free to your lips, and pushes them into your mouth, filling you even there.

"Christ," he gasps, starting to move the fingers he pushed into your mouth.

"Look at yourself, Y/n. You have all your holes filled by me, you're getting fucked in each of these tight little holes for money," Seonghwa grunts, and as you feel the saliva escaping from your lips, you see his eyes getting darker, more intense.

He moans and gasps, fucking you with all the strength and passion he has in his body, moving his fingers inside you and fucking you without the slightest mercy.

“Make it worth it, clench this pussy on me, huh?” he moans, despite the fact that your pussy already is clenching and hugging his cock as tightly as humanly possible.

You feel every movement of his inside you. Your skin and his rubbing together, his cock caressing the most intimate and deepest parts of you, sending electric shocks to run through every inch of your body and his as well.

Seonghwa's legs tremble as he sinks into you, fucking your mouth with his fingers and forcing you to choke on them, making you cough and then making your holes contract around him consequently. The rough and forceful way in which he is fucking you forces your body to move against the desk, and your wet and needy clitoris rubs against the cold and shiny wood of the desk.

Your nipples in contact with the mahogany stimulate you in the most delicious way possible, and you are completely intoxicated by the pleasure that grows rapidly inside you.

Your orgasm is getting closer and closer, and the feeling of being completely at the mercy of his desires only increases the strength of your pleasure.

Seonghwa towers over you, filling you everywhere, and could do anything to you: you wouldn't object, you wouldn't refuse anything. You would do anything for him. Anything he asked for and more.

Everything.

Not for the money, for him.

You don't tell him, that's for sure. But you think it.

Seonghwa is the only thing on your mind, not your rent to pay or your empty pockets.

Only: Seonghwa. Seonghwa. Seonghwa.

“Yeah, say my name. Fucking scream it,” he groans after he notices how you’re chanting his name in pleasure.

He takes his fingers off your mouth, giving you all the freedom to moan his name.

He forces you to scream, fucking you more harshly, a hand grabbing your hair and pulling at it enough for you to arise from the desk and for you spine to bend and for him to reach you and kiss your neck.

The position you’re in isn’t the most comfortable, but it sure as hell is exiting.

Seonghwa kisses your neck and bites at it, sucking the sensitive skin long enough to leave a plethora of marks behind.

Tomorrow you’ll be covered in his marks, you’ll look debouched and devastated and his.

His thumb leaves your ass empty and gaping, and now he’s completely focused on fucking your pretty aching pussy.

“Mine, Y/n. From now on you’re mine. You’ll get everything you want, but you have to be mine. My slut, my little cum dump,” he groans, licking all over your neck and sucking your ear lob in his mouth as he moans into your ear.

“Yes! Yes! M’yours, I-I’ll let you do anything, a-anything,” you moan, feeling floaty and lost, shaking and pushing your hips backwards to meet his trusts.

“I’m close, so close,” you confess, hiccuping between your helpless moans.

Seonghwa growls, and he fucks into you one last time before taking his cock out of your pussy and taking a step back.

You whine and complain, begging him to put it back in, to just do something.

“I want to see your face when you cum. I want to look into your eyes as I cream that pussy,” he explains, grabbing you by the hips and manhandling you in the position he prefers.

You’re sitting on the desk, you legs spread open and you pussy glistening with a mixture of your juices and his, all puffy and needy as your hole clenches around nothing.

“Ask me for it. Beg for my cock,” he says, voice mean as he touches his cock and teases his balls.

You have no dignity left at this point, so you don’t hesitate and do just as he asked you to.

“Please, sir, I need it. My pussy needs it, please, please,” you cry out, tears actually falling from your pretty eyes as you decide to tease him and tempt him a little bit.

One of your hands slides down your body, and you rub at one of your nipples, pinching it and feeling the most delicious pain ever.

With the other hand you go down to rub fervently at your needy little clit, circling around it and playing with the most sensitive part yourself.

“Please? Pretty please? Give it to me, Hwa, I beg you, sir, fuck me,” you continue, hand trailing down your pussy as you spread your own folds for him, exposing yourself like never before.

Wet juices fall from your pussy and are close to pool on his desk, and the sight of it is completely nasty.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch what’s mine,” he growls, getting closer to you and slapping your own hands away from your own body.

He directs his cock to your pleading pussy and pushes back in, spreading you open once again.

The new angle touches the right spots, reaches exactly where you were craving his cock to hit, and your eyes roll back in pleasure.

One of his hands reaches your throat, and he just keeps it there. An heavy weight against your neck, the promise of the most beautiful threat.

Seonghwa looks at you with something hidden in his eyes, and a wicked smile shows on your face.

“Choke me,” you dare him, biting at your lower lip as moans force themselves out of your mouth.

“You fucking brat,” moans Seonghwa, and the hand around your throat tightens, and tightens, and tightens.

The sensation of air and oxygen being denied to you is exhilarating, it's wonderful. Seonghwa even controls this: he decides whether to let you breathe or not. The thought makes your head spin and only increases the pleasure that floods your body.

Seonghwa's hand tightens again and again around your neck, choking you while looking into your eyes, dominating your body and soul.

“C-Close,” you whisper with the little air you have left, legs shaking around his waist as you sense pleasure building up inside your belly.

“Cum. Cum on my cock, you pathetic little thing,” orders Seonghwa and finally, he decides to grant you some mercy: his thumb comes down between your spread legs, and he starts to rub at you clit with precise movements, making you cry out loud and sound.

“Fuck! More, more, harder!” You shout, and Seonghwa lets go of his hold around your neck to grab your hip and use it as leverage to fuck more harshly inside your cunt.

His cock slides inside you with extreme ease, and his movements are precise and determined, and the tip of his cock rubs against all the right spots, making you breathless from how much it makes you enjoy.

Your hands reach his shoulders, and you cling to him tightly, scratching them from under his shirt and pushing it away, uncovering his back and scratching his skin.

Seonghwa doesn't seem to mind, on the contrary as your nails dig into his skin he only moans more, only rubs his fingers more decisively against your clitoris.

Seeing him so lost in pleasure and so deeply aroused is exactly the push you needed to finally succumb to your own orgasm.

The force with which you come is devastating: your legs tremble with strength, your breath breaks in your throat and the gasps and moans that escape from your lips are filled with desperation and pure pleasure. Your pussy contracts and tightens around Seonghwa's hard cock, as if wanting to keep it inside forever. Your clitoris pulses and sends electricity throughout your body.

Your turgid nipples brush against Seonghwa's chest as you hold him close and tight to you.

But what surprises both of you even more is another thing: the explosive way in which your orgasm overwhelmed you, making you squirt hot and juicy liquid around his cock, along both of your thighs. It seems to never end, and you surrender to pleasure as you squirt again and again against him, squeezing his cock and massaging it with your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re a slut, you’re a fucking slut, you just squirted all over my cock,” he groans, fucking into you as he forces you to give him even more of your precious juices.

His hand, the one that was rubbing at your clit, is covered in it, all moist and shiny and wet.

He brings it to his lips, sucks his own fingers and tastes you, your eyes spread open as you watch him savor your squirt.

“So fucking good,” he moans, before reaching down to get more of it, rubbing his hand against your folds and making you cry in overstimulation.

“Taste yourself,” he orders, before smearing your own juices against your lips, making you lick them clean as he watches.

“Want your cum. My pussy- it’s so empty, please, please, fill me up, cum in me,” you beg, tears falling from you eyes as your body begs for some mercy, begs to be filled, begs to be owned.

You lose control of it, and just slump on the desk, back hitting the wood and legs spreading even further.

“Take it, fuck! Take my cum, take it all in you pussy, here it fucking comes, ‘s all yours,” he moans, starting to slur his words as he shoves his dick inside of your abused cunt without a care in the world, the slide made even easier thanks to your powerful orgasm.

You feel it clearly: Seonghwa's hands run up your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them tightly.

The thrusts into your pussy become more erratic, stronger, more unrestrained.

Seonghwa's eyes become burning, shining with pleasure.

His moans become lower, deeper, strong enough to make your heart race, and you feel him bury himself one last time in your wet pussy, all the way in.

You feel him fill you with hot cum, squirting his thick and warm liquid inside you, flooding your wet and trembling pussy, abused to exhaustion.

You feel full to the brim, completely filled with his cum.

Seonghwa trembles, leans forward and kisses your breasts, while his hips make small instinctive movements, and he tries to push even deeper inside you, trying to bury his own cum deep in your pussy as far as humanly possible.

You gently pet his hair, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.

He just lays there for a while, keeping his cock inside of you to plug his cum inside your cunt.

“So full,” you whisper, clenching your pussy around him and enjoying the feeling of being so utterly used.

You both enjoy these moments of quietness, both still shaken and exhausted, taken by waves of pleasure and with labored breath.

You never would have imagined that this day would have gone this way, but honestly you wouldn't change a thing, and you don't care if this truly makes you a whore.

The only thing you care about is having had Seonghwa in such a way, being possessed by him like this and getting exactly what you needed, what you wanted.

After a few endless minutes, Seonghwa leaves a gentle bite on your breast: this time it doesn't hurt at all. It's somehow delicate.

You still flinch when he does it, and you hold back a smile. He pulls away from you, sits up.

You don't dare to imagine what condition you're in, but the way he looks at you makes you understand that it must be quite a sight.

Seonghwa pulls his cock out of your pussy, and you groan in dissent, feeling suddenly empty and sad, not wanting his cum to come out of your pussy. You want to keep it inside you as long as possible.

Seonghwa doesn't speak as he gets dressed.

He puts on his boxers and pants, buttons up his shirt. Adjusts his cuffs, his collar.

He does all this without ever taking his eyes off your body.

When you regain some strength, you decide to get off the desk, and you have to hold onto it to avoid falling.

Your panties are torn, so you can't put them back on.

You just slip on your skirt and blouse, and feel a drop of Seonghwa's cum escape from your pussy and run down your flushed thighs.

When you glance at him, you see him fumble with his wallet.

Realization of what’s going to happen sinks in, and you feel your cheeks turn a crimson red, and shame overtakes your body and overwhelms you completely.

“This should be enough for today,” Seonghwa says, his eyes looking dark and somewhat empty.

He hands you over a bunch of bills, and you spread your eyes as you take in the actual amount of money he just handed you.

That’s more than a month of your usual income.

You just made it in a couple of hours.

“I- T-thank you,” you mutter out, at a loss of words.

Seonghwa snickers, and watches cautiously as you take the money from him with shaking hands, face full of disbelief.

“Give your number to my secretary, Y/n. I’ll call you when your service will be needed. Be ready to come to work at any time, got it? Whenever I need a bucket to cum into, whenever I need to empty my balls, you drop everything and come to me to take my dick, no objections, no buts. We have a deal, right?”

Seonghwa's words are cruel, raw. But you didn't expect anything different, you knew well what you were getting into.

And you accepted to offer yourself to him with that awareness.

So, even though you feel humiliated, mocked, used, you nod. Grabbing your purse from the floor and carefully putting the banknotes inside, you notice that Seonghwa doesn't fail to observe your legs in the meantime.

"I'll be the best whore you've ever had," you confirm, forcing yourself to abandon lucidity and pride, clutching your purse as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Seonghwa sits at the desk, arranging the papers that you moved with your body and bends slightly to smell the scent of your fluids that have soaked into the wood.

"You can go. Oh, and don't clean your thighs. You have to go home with my cum dripping from your pussy, because if you still have a place to sleep at it's thanks to that cum, and I want anyone who looks at you enough to see it: do you understand?"

You swallow loudly, but you dare not argue.

You blink and try to maintain at least a hint of control, moving your legs slightly as you feel liquid coming out of your body.

"Yes, sir," you reply, bowing slightly in farewell.

Seonghwa seems to have returned to what he was when you first entered the room, but that doesn't surprise you at all.

However, you notice him grabbing the torn edges of your panties from the floor and tucking them into the pocket of his expensive pants.

He dismisses you immediately with a wave of his hand, and you gather your strength and leave the room: destroyed, exposed, without panties and with the purse full of money.

When you leave the room, there is only his secretary, the girl who escorted you to the door.

You have no doubt that she heard everything, but she smiles just as she did when you entered a few hours earlier.

You leave her your phone number, she writes it down in her agenda with precise professionalism.

You don't miss the quick glance she gives to your legs.

You don't cover yourself, you do as Seonghwa ordered you to.

You obey.

You smile, say goodbye to the secretary.

You enter the elevator, the doors close, and for the first time you look at yourself in the mirror.

You are not the same person as you were this morning.

You fix your makeup as quickly as possible and smile.

You leave.

It takes no more than two days for your phone to ring, and for it to be an unknown number.

Time to work.

[siconetribal]

Beyond the Bookshelves (1)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Some swearing, work stress, impossible tasks

Summary: You're a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You've been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N: I honestly do not know where this is going and why I even started this. It was an idea that sort of popped into my head while at work. I hope you enjoy it! Please comment/like/reblog. If you'd like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

Papers fluttered to the ground around Loki as stared down at the young woman who ran into him. He cocked an eyebrow as he heard a low hiss of pain come from her gritted teeth. The impact could not have been that painful, but how was he to know? He was minding his own business, walking down the fairly empty hallway reading a book when something had come crashing into him. It was not the first time he had been assaulted, but it was certainly the first time to be tackled in the middle of an empty hallway. Glancing around, he noticed there were a few people lingering about, watching to see what he would do or see what transpired.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Her voice drew his attention back down to the ground to see her on her knees trying to gather the scattered sheets of paper. He slid his right foot back as she reached for one near it.

“You are excused,” he responded in a level tone that held little emotion, if any at all. She looked up at him in wide-eyed shock which had him raise an eyebrow yet again at her. He hesitated for a moment to speak, feeling the eyes on them.

“Is there something else you wish to say?”

“Huh? Oh, no, just surprised to hear you say anything. I’ve never heard you speak before, so I thought that maybe you couldn’t.” She admitted, tapping the bottom edge of the sheets to make the pile more uniform. “You have a nice voice.” She added, carefully inspecting the surrounding area, oblivious to the bewildered look of the prince before her. “Ah-ha!” She grinned, crawling forward and reaching between his feet. Startled by her actions, Loki quickly took a few steps backward, leaving a noticeable shoe print on the paper she had been reaching for. “Thank you, this was the last one I needed.” She smiled at him, though when she saw the print, her lips quickly curled downwards into a noticeable frown. “That’s not good, Fury’s not gonna be happy.” She mumbled, carefully placing the dirtied sheet on the top as she stood up with her sizable stack of folders and binders in her arms. “Well, it was a pleasure speaking to you, Mr. Loki, I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

He watched as she casually resumed her walk down the hallway, unperturbed by the fact that she had just walked straight into him, Loki, the monster that had wreaked havoc in the world and destroyed their precious city. The very city they were currently in now. What an odd Midgardian, but I suppose this would be the place to find plenty of odd ones. He turned to look at some spectators and watched them visibly flinch or stumble as they met his gaze, scrambling to leave the vicinity and get away from here, away from him. Opening his book once more, he continued on his way towards his destination.

Just as she had anticipated, Fury was not pleased with the surprise print on one of the report pages. He looked between it and her in silence, sliding the packet across his desk in her direction as he leaned back and turned his chair slightly.

“Mind telling me why you suddenly decided to decorate such a vital report with a shoe?”

“It was an accident, sir. While on my way here, I was reviewing the content and ended up crashing into someone on the way. They unintentionally stepped on the sheet while trying to avoid the others. I didn’t have time to reprint the documents prior to this meeting. I will be submitting a clean copy into the record and have this one shredded.”

“I’ll let it slide this time only. Next time, watch where you’re walking and leave reviewing for when you’re at a desk. Everything looks to be in order, reprint and file it.”

“Thank you sir, I’ll have it done right away.” She bowed her head and picked up the report.

“Don’t let this happen again.” He sternly remarked. “The next time it does, you’ll have to deal with the consequences. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal, sir.” Y/N nodded. “The next item for discussion is the transition of all physical resources into digital. I do understand that many have requested that all resources be scanned and made digital, but that task is a lot larger than many realize. Also, not all of our sources are safe to scan due to age or they need to be translated and checked prior to scanning. It is not impossible, but a sizable team would be needed in order to have it completed. I propose that the physical sources we have are properly cataloged and organized so they are easier to be found. We can have them scanned in the process, but again, we run into the issues of needing to translate and verify that the translations are correct.”

“Y/N, just get to the fucking point. Can it be done?” Fury cut her off, looking at her pointedly with his good eye.

“In an ideal situation, yes.” She let out a small sigh.

“And what is an ‘ideal situation’?” 

“A team of at least five agents per letter, several translators for the various languages we have to make sure we have them properly translated, and a warehouse filled with scanners and computers to scan, name, and upload. With such a team and ideal conditions always, it could take about five to ten years to complete.”

“Oh just that?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, his frown more pronounced than usual. Y/N knew he was not pleased with her answer, but there was no use in trying to make it lighter than it really was. They had an extensive library in house and warehouses of delicate and confidential artifacts, which included tomes and scrolls. She was the head librarian and managed all of this with only a handful of others spread across the various locations.

“Ideally, yes.”

“And if it wasn’t ideal?”

“Depends on what factors are not present, but without those minimum requirements it could take decades.”

“But it can be done.” He flatly responded, sitting forward in his seat and resting his elbows on the desk. “We won’t destroy any of the physical resources, but you’ll have to make do with what you get. We don’t have the luxury of just handing over a slew of agents for this. We need boots on the ground globally to keep an eye out on things out there bigger than us.” A weight suddenly dropped in the pit of her stomach. Though she was not expecting anything close to what she listed as an ideal, there was something in his tone that screamed out that she was going to hear the worst case scenario.

“And what would I get to work with?” She managed to keep her voice steady.

“State-of-the-art technology per library staff member per location and a god.”

Silence fell over them as she stood there, slowly blinking at her superior. This had to be some sort of sick joke. She knew the organization could not give what was needed, but this? This was hardly anything at all.

“I’m sorry, did you just say new computers and a god?”

“That’s what I said.” He nodded his head.

“You must be joking, right? This task would take more than just decades to do, and what does ‘a god’ even mean? A ‘god’ per person or location, or just one god? And what sort of ‘god’ Do you just have deities on demand or something? Are they just going to snap their fingers and things will be done magically? What can they do for me and this lifelong assignment I have now been tasked with?” She paced in front of his desk, muttering to herself on how this could work and what sort of person this ‘god’ was. He cannot be serious, right? But Fury isn’t the type to just say shit or joke around. She turned and looked at her boss. No, not a joker. She frowned.

“Y/N, calm down. We’ve got two Asgardian gods that have a knack for understanding all languages. You don’t need a team of translators when they can do it on the spot just like that.” His sharp tone made her stop and turn to face him. “So that whole crap can be cut, and you can work with one of them to get all this done faster with fewer people and just get to organizing shit. You’re getting what you get, end of discussion. Anything else?”

“No sir,” she sighed and shook her head.

“Good, I’ll get Agent Hill to talk to them and reach out to you. You’re dismissed.”

“Yes sir.” She slightly bowed her head and left the office, her shoulders dropping the moment the door closed behind her. This was not going to be easy.

Tag list: @vbecker10

[accidentallyadoptedbybatman]

i see your Bruce accidentally uses his Brucie Voice on villains and your Bruce accidentally uses his Tired Batdad Voice on villains and i raise you

Bruce (out of suits) accidentally uses his Batman voice while lecturing his children

[solitaireships]

I feel like I should say since there's been a recent uptick in a lot of communities I'm in/see stuff from a lot of white people pretending to be Asian, but you are not welcome here if you are in anyway stealing from Asian cultures for clout or the aesthetics of it

This includes if you're white and you give your self inserts Asian names, I truly do not care if your f/o is from an anime, you should not be using an Asian name under any circumstances. I hate that whenever I see someone using an Asian name online, I feel like I have to start searching their account to see if they're actually Asian or just a white person who likes the aesthetic of it bcs far too many white people will use Asian names here just bcs it sounds cool, with no regard for the actual cultural meaning behind it. Meanwhile actual Asian people will be mocked for their names, or treated like their names are too hard to learn to pronounce, or discriminated against based on their names

Asian cultures are not a fun little costume for people to dress up with. They aren't just a nice aesthetic, they aren't just a thing you can borrow from bcs you think it sounds cool

[normal-person-i-promise]

public transport

arataka reigen x fem!reader

half of it is edited, at least. this has been sitting in my drafts, half done, since march. im sick of working on it, so you get this. sorgy

The sudden jerk of the train starting takes you by surprise, and you nearly fall down — had it not been for the fact that someone gripped your upper arms tightly before your face could connect with the cold, hard floor.

You look up quickly, your face heating when you realize who it is.

★ ★ ★

The familiar "whoosh" of the bus's old doors opening greets you warmly as you step inside, unsurprised to find almost all seats — save for one — vacant. Late nights are always lonely — it's always dark, empty, quiet — but today, there's another person on the bus with you.

He... Looks like the guy you saw on TV some time ago, though in a more... Tired state. Messy blonde hair, unbuttoned grey suit, loose pink tie — he's sitting in the back-most seat, his eyes, heavy with fatigue, transfixed on the window.

He didn't noice you come in.

You stand at the door for a little while, adjusting the bag on your shoulders before coming to a realization that sours your expression. That's your usual seat. He took it.

You scowl, making your way to the window seat a few meters away from him and sitting down with as much annoyance that you can muster.

You can hear the sound of the bus's wheels squeak every time they'd go over a bump, shaking the whole vehicle; smell the sour scent of sweat stained clothes from a long day of work; practically taste the citrus cleaning spray the cleaners use too much on the cloth seat covers.

The bus's doors creak closed. The vehicle abruptly jerks forward, a start, before its motion becomes steady. You settle into your seat, adjusting yourself until you're comfortable, feeling the worn fabric beneath your fingertips as you steady yourself.

As the bus picks up speed, you find your gaze drawn to the man.

His features are... Sharp, though not so much as to look intimidating; his eyes are half-moons as they stare longingly out the window, not taking in the view, more like just... Staring blankly; his breathing — visible from the rise and fall of his chest — is slow and steady, calm; and his nose is pointed, low, coming to a point just above those soft, kissable lips...

...

...Drat.

You clear your throat as if it'll clear your mind. Curse your tiredness, making your thoughts... Inappropriate.

You shift your bag in your lap, trying to distract yourself with the way the strap falls, the feeling of the stitching on the edges.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the man turn his head to face you. His eyes roam down your body before dragging themselves back up to your face, and, noticing your irate expression (due to the fact that he took YOUR seat), he raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side.

He looks at you curiously, scanning your features as the bus bounces up and down when the wheels go over the bumpy road.

He seems to pause, almost hesitate.

"Good to know I'm not the only one with late nights," he says, a grin playing on his lips.

God, his voice...!

"Same here," you mumble, keeping your eyes set on the window to avoid looking into his.

You both slip onto a comfortable silence again, all quiet except for the sound of the bus moving along the tar road, making those distinct noises you've almost memorized.

You can sort of ignore him now, focusing only on the view outside.

It's... Peaceful. At this time of night, there are little people on the streets — those who are still awake are the drunkards, stumbling back to their homes; and the office workers, their gaits slow and steady, tired from the long day of work.

The shops are all closed, and though shutters are pulled down, the colourful lights of their signs remain on; blues, reds, and whites paint the sidewalk a kaleidoscope of colours, one you've never noticed until now. Your eyes roam from the colourful concrete to the signs whizzing past the bus in a blur, your eyes struggling to read the letters.

"What's your name, by the way?"

You're brought out of your thoughts at his question. His voice is strangely soft, his tone understandably wary as you turn your head to face him.

You introduce yourself, and he nods. He tests your name out on his tongue, humming in delight — as though he just tasted something sweet.

"Arataka Reigen, greatest psychic of the 21st century!"

His introduction is over the top, his voice like a salesman's as he spins his hand — so fast that's it's all a blur — before he abruptly stops, bringing it up for you to shake. He flashes you a charming grin, one that makes your cheeks flush.

You take his hand, savouring the feeling of his worn fingers wrapping around yours as he shakes it.

And, leaning in close enough to smell the sharp cologne his wears and said in a low whisper, "But you can call me Arataka."

Arataka leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest in pride as he grins at your flushed cheeks.

"It's the first time I'm seeing another soul at this time of night," he remarks, tightening his tie absentmindedly, almost like an unconscious fidget of sorts. You nod in response. You watch as his fingers wrap around the pink fabric of his tie slowly, getting a better grip before pulling it close to his neck, adjusting it to make sure it's not too tight.

You clear your throat again, averting your gaze.

"I'm... Honestly surprised to find another person coming home from work this late," you parrot, gritting your teeth as you focus on the window. Stop staring, stop staring...

He hums in amusement before it's quiet once more, broken only by the sounds of the bus's engine working to keep the vehicle moving.

It stays like this for a while. Both your gazes are fixed on the window, staring at the buildings passing by in a watercolour blur.

The city is... Nicer? You can't tell whether it's because you have a handsome man sitting across from you, or because it really does look prettier, but all the lights seem... Dreamier than usual, all the tree's leaves a few shades greener.

You can't help but notice his eyes flicker to yours every few minutes, though you never manage to see it directly.

"The city's quite pretty tonight," You mumble to yourself, staring out the window as you adjust yourself in your seat.

Arataka's next words are barely audible, just above a whisper — and his voice is quiet enough for you to be sure that you weren't supposed to hear it, like he was just saying something to himself.

"Sort of like you."

Your heart skips a beat.

"What did you say?"

Your tone is curious as your gaze settles on him again, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes sparkling with the lights outside the window.

You can visibly see him get nervous: he breaks out into a sweat, his shoulders stiffening as he brings up the sleeve of his jacket to dry the beads of perspiration trickling down his forehead, his tone rushed and panicked.

"A-ah, hahaa—! What? I didn't say anything!"

You can hear the nervous grin on his face as he avoids your gaze, clearing his throat loudly, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"You must've been hearing things! Those pesky spirits..."

Arataka clicks his tongue, scowling at the empty space above your shoulder for a moment before changing his expression to a neutral one again, bringing his eyes back to yours. The speed at which he gains and loses confidence is enough to give you whiplash — not that you mind, though.

"I can get rid of them for you," he says, with total confidence. He's grinning proudly, almost puffing his chest out a little.

It's... Endearing, if you can say that.

You pause, arching a brow at him in confusion.

"Get... Rid of...?"

Have you never heard of psychics before...?

He nods briskly, pointing a thumb at himself in pride. His mannerisms and movements are precise and swift, enough to get you to think he's done this kind of thing hundreds of times in the past.

"You're talking to a world renowned psychic, here."

...There's a beat of silence, save for the sound of the bus going over a bump.

"World... Renowned?" You parrot, your tone confused. You've... Never heard of this man in your life, this... Arataka Reigen.

He pauses for a moment, his jaw going slack and his hand falling a little before he quickly closes his mouth, his expression almost like he's laughing in disbelief.

"A-ah, yes, yes, world renowned! I'm known all across the globe! Surely you know my name?"

He sounds a little bit like he's in disbelief, though his voice remains prideful.

You raise your brow higher. He's egotistical, to put it lightly. Egotistical, but so, so handsome...

"I've... Never heard of you before," you say to him, watching in amusement as you wait for his reaction.

"Oh, come on!"

Arataka's voice is now definitely one of disbelief as he groans in exasperation, his voice and expression growing irate.

Surely you've seen his posters...? He told Mob to paste them on any empty surface.

"Never? Not even once?" He almost begs, nearly pleading, a note of desperation creeping into his words as he tries in vain to convince you of something you've already set your mind on.

...Which is to poke fun at him, of course.

You hum in thought, your gaze flickering to the window before bringing it back to meet his. There was one time — a rather embarrassing moment for him, in your opinion.

"...Well, there was this one time I saw him on TV..."

He's quick to cut you off.

"Oh, why— y-yes! Yes, no, no, you haven't heard of me, especially not on TV! No, nope! Never!"

His grin is too wide to be genuine; panicked, and his hands are all over the place — almost as though he's talking with them, too, as he gestures wildly. You can see the sweat droplets fly off his hands, in addition to seeing the light reflected off of them on his forehead.

You look on in amusement.

"I-I'm just your friendly neighbourhood psychic, providing exorcisms at competitive prices! Never been on TV, no sir-ee!"

He's sweating buckets now, his grin thin as he goes on and on and on. He just... Talks, and the only time he pauses in his speech is to take in a greedy mouthful of air before getting right back to his words, coming out of his mouth faster than you can understand them.

And though it is rather cute funny to see him act like this, you decide that it's about time you changed the topic and spare him the embarrassment.

...And it's at this moment exactly that the bus reaches your destination, and you need to get off.

You pause for a moment, double-checking the sign to be sure that it's your street. You're more than a little disappointed to be parting ways with this strange, handsome psychic, this Arataka Reigen.

"Uh... Bye, I guess," you say in mild disappointment. You give him a small smile as you sling your bag over your shoulders, sitting up from your seat.

You're leaving already...? He only just met you, though...

As you make your way to the door, you run your hands along the bus's seats, feeling the fabric beneath your fingertips. It's a sort of a... Habit, now, to touch the seats before you exit, like how you'd run your fingers over a bridge's railing. It delays you a few seconds.

...Wait. It's probably best to give you his card, y'know, for his number and the address of his office...

You're halfway to the bus's doors before Arataka stops you, calling your name, rifling through his suit's pockets and producing a sharp, white business card.

"My business card, for the exorcism I promised you."

He grins, jabbing the card in your face. Taking a moment to compute what he's doing, you quickly take it from him, thanking him. He nods in reply, bidding you 'bye-bye' in a quick, hasty voice once more as he waves you off the bus.

You stare at the card as you step out of the bus, making your way to the little flat you call home.

Arataka Reigen.

Your eyes trail down to the bottom, where you see a phone number.

His phone number.

Arataka's phone number.

★ ★ ★

All week, you stress. Should you call him? This... Mysterious, handsome psychic? What if he doesn't want to talk to you? What if he really did just give you his business card for business?

...The way his cheeks flushed when your hands brushed against each other tells a different story, though...

You're fidgeting with his card in your hands when you enter the train, finding that it's full with people coming home from work, as usual. It's just after sunset — the sun has only just dipped below the horizon, the last traces of its golden light fading as the pinks turn to blues, the blues turning to black.

You look back down to the card in your hands, still not having moved from far the train's doors, open wide.

Arataka Reigen.

Your fingers wrap around the frigid metal off the handle bar by the train's doors, though your grip isn't strong, still lost in your thoughts. You really, really wanna call him, but what if he really did give you his business card only for business? He didn't seem to really... Do anything special, nor did he say anything special. He just treated you like a normal client, it seems.

You're still thinking about how adorable his pink cheeks were, though...

The sudden jerk of the train starting takes you by surprise, and you nearly fall down — had it not been for the fact that someone gripped your upper arms tightly before your face could connect with the cold, hard floor.

You look up quickly, your face heating when you realize who it is.

Arataka.

He says your name in a disbelieving, breathless manner, his eyes wide and his expression awestruck for a moment before coming back to his senses. He startles, letting go of you in the blink of an eye as he lets out a yelp, his cheeks flushed a sweet pink as you feel yours heat in tandem.

He remembers your name.

Arataka remembers your name.

"We meet again," Arataka says awkwardly, the both of you standing in the middle of the train. It's a little hard to keep his voice steady and quiet, but he manages.

That well tailored grey suit of his is neat and ironed, his pink tie tightened and tied properly close to his neck. He looks... Good. Better than on the bus, at least.

You nod, trying to calm down your racing heart.

"...Arataka. This is a... Pleasant surprise."

...And just like that, it's awkward silence again.

At least it's not totally quiet though: there's the rumbling of the train car moving along on its metal rails, the rapid beating of your heart in your ears, your shallow breathing as you try to calm yourself down in vain...

Your eyes trail to the window, watching as the train emerges from the dark tunnel, getting bathed in the lights of the city's night life. There's the faint smell of disinfectant and sweaty clothes in the air.

It's when you almost fall over again that you finally decide to take a seat. Arataka follows suit, taking the seat beside you, seeing as all the other seats are taken.

He's awkward as he settles down in his seat, his side pressed up against yours. He looks either... Embarrassed, or ecstatic, since you're that girl he saw on the bus the other day, the one who made his cheeks flush and his heart beat wildly in his chest. You're that girl he'd given his business card to, the one that he's been waiting so, so patiently for to call, even so little as text him.

After a while, the two of you get comfortable against each other; the warmth of his body brings some sense of comfort to you, and the same to him. You... Fit, there, right by his side. He likes that.

Your eyes are trained on the window; the buildings are whizzing past the train, the yellows and oranges of the city lights blending together to form a pretty little painting. It seems so... Fantastical, and so... Unreal. You've never really paid any attention to the scenery...

The little cars on the roads are but small strokes of a brush on a canvas, their blacks and greys mixing in with the dull colours of the asphalt. There's people on the streets, since it's not too late in the night yet; they're all smoking, partying, drinking, having a good time... Because, after all, it is a Friday night.

...And you're alone.

God, you're pathetic.

You scowl slightly, settling into your seat, your side shifting against Arataka.

Though you don't notice it, Arataka's eyes aren't on the view outside the glass. He's looking at you, studying you, watching as your eyes dart from person to person walking along on the pavement, watching as you shift your bag on your lap to get more comfortable. His eyes are fixed on you as he roams his gaze up and down your body, using his eyes to trace the outline of your comfortable clothing and sighing, almost dreamily so.

You're really pretty.

...It stays like this for a while. Neither of you say anything to eachother, though both your minds are plagued by the other.

You find yourself fidgeting with anything you can — the cloth straps of your bag, the thin strands of your hair, the knuckles of your fingers. It's hard to keep your thoughts from going haywire when Arataka's body is pressed against yours, especially when it's almost quiet enough for him to hear your racing heart.

He, too, is freaking out — his heart is threatening to burst from his chest, his mind reeling so much to the point where it's starting to hurt. The only difference is that he hides it well, and you're... Well, you're not as experienced. And he's definitely noticed.

As he stares at you, Arataka calls your name softly, absentmindedly, and his heart almost stops when your eyes connect with his.

They seem so... So sparkly, so big and wide, taking in everything. They reflect the environment; Arataka can see himself in them as he gathers his thoughts quickly, clearing his throat loudly.

It's hard to form words around you, especially words that aren't 'kiss me', you know that?

"So how've you been?" He asks smoothly, ending his question with your name.

You hum.

"...Good. You?"

Arataka nods, his posture relaxed in relation to yours. He shifts against you, almost leaning against you, and your heart skips a beat.

"Great, yeah."

He begins to gesture with his hands again, something that you've missed seeing a lot more than you'd think you would — especially considering the fact that the only time you've met him is on a bus, late at night, the both of you definitely not thinking straight under the influence of sleep deprivation.

"So how's that spirit of yours holding up? Gotten it rid of already?"

He gestures to your shoulder, his expression neutral as he analyses the empty air. He definitely notices that you haven't done anything about this supposed spirit haunting you.

So you stay quiet for a while, unsure of whether to lie and keep him in this emotional state or tell him the truth and make it worse.

"I, uh... Haven't done anything yet."

...

"You WHAT?!"

The passengers in the train all shush him in unison, and Arataka mumbles a quick 'sorry' before leaning in close to you, shielding his voice from the outside with a hand, almost like children telling each other secrets. It's just an excuse to get closer to you, to be completely honest.

You can barely focus on what he's saying, your cheeks a bright red as you feel his breath ghost over your skin.

"You HAVE to do something about it, I mean—"

He makes small gestures to the space above your shoulder, trying his best not to upset the people beside him. He fails, evident in the way they scowl at him and take a few steps away.

"This thing is dangerous!"

You sigh, leaning a little away from him as you feel the red in your cheeks fade.

"It hasn't done anything, though."

"Hasn't done anything YET," he cuts you off, hissing in a whisper. "You could've DIED!"

He gets shushed again. He sighs in annoyance, leaning away from you and talking in a calmer, quieter voice. He's smooth with it; his words come out naturally, almost instinctually — it doesn't sound like he's been desperate to say those words ever since he met you, and it doesn't sound like he's begging you to say yes.

"How 'bout this, hm? I'm heading to my office right now for a late night job. Why don't you come and I'll get rid of this—" he scowls, swatting the space above your shoulder again —"horrid spirit of yours?"

You pause. It's a... Very, very tempting offer. On one hand, you want to go back home and rest; while on the other, you want to follow this handsome, blonde psychic and see how he'll 'exorcise' this supposed spirit of yours.

You decide quickly, just as a light rain begins to patter on the glass windows.

"Sure, alright," you say, giving him a slight smile. Arataka nods in response, smiling at you, before his gaze trails to the windows where the rain gets heavier and heavier the closer you get to Arataka's office.

"SEE?!" Again, he's shushed.

"This is the work of the spirit!" He says, gesturing to the heavy rain that's now beating aggressively on the window in an unpredictable drumbeat. The people on the streets panic and try to get to shelter, whilst others bring out umbrellas.

You're quiet for a while.

"The... Rain?"

He nods briskly, seriously.

"Spirits can influence things, you see. They range from small events like how hot you heat up your bento, to this," he says grimly, gesturing to the thunder and lightning that has started to strike the ground in bright white flashes across cutting across the grey sky.

"The bigger the event, the more powerful the spirit. And," he says, leaning back more in his seat and crossing his arms, "this is a crazy powerful spirit. It's unwise to leave it alone for so long. It's reacting in this way because we mentioned its existence."

"Oh, okay, that... Right, that makes a lot of sense," you agree slowly, nodding in response to his words. Arataka knows a lot about spirits, it seems.

He grins in triumph, just as the train announces its location and its doors slide open. He gets up, gesturing for you to follow.

"It's just a 15 minute walk," he assures you.

When you get out of the train station, you find that it's still raining heavily. There's that smell of rain, which is nice, and you get lightly showered with the cold droplets as they bounce up and off the pavement and road.

Arataka scowls, groaning under his breath as he takes out a pocket umbrella, clicking it open.

"We'll have to share. It's small because it's meant for one person."

He gestures for you to get under the umbrella. It's... Close. You're very close to him, just like in the train, though, this time, your bodies are only almost touching. The two of you have to shuffle on the ground a little to walk.

As you begin walking, you find yourself walking closer and closer until you're touching sides. Arataka doesn't seem to argue; in fact, he wordlessly slides a tentative hand around your waist, holding you tight to him as the crystal droplets of rain pitter-patter loudly against the tiny clear plastic umbrella he holds. His grip grows more confident and firm the longer his hand is there.

It's quiet when the both of you stop at a crossing, waiting for the cars to clear and the light to turn to the little man, indicating you can walk.

Then a particularly fast car comes along. It's definitely speeding, and when it nears the large puddle of water near the sidewalk, Arataka smoothly pushes you back, bringing the umbrella up to shield you, and only you, from the dirty water.

The dirty rain water splashes at his pants and the droplets from the sky pelt him, causing him to wince slightly. It makes his golden hair to stick to his forehead, makes his expensive grey suit soaked at the shoulders, makes his sleeves dripping wet.

Before you know it, he brings the umbrella up again, and begins walking again without a word. His hand finds itself back to it's position, holding you securely around your waist.

"Thanks," you say. He pauses, turning to look at you.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?! THE RAIN'S TOO LOUD!"

You mutter a quick apology before repeating your thanks, this time shouting. His bewildered expression disappears, smiling cutely as he nods, before he continues walking.

The both of you continue in a comfortable silence for another minute or so before you reach the office. He leads you inside, shaking off the umbrella. The office smells... Really salty, coupled with the expensive scents of some kinds of incense you can't make out.

"Here we are!" He exclaims proudly. "Ah, oh, right. This is my apprentice, Mob."

Arataka places a firm hand on the shoulder of what looks to be a middle schooler with a bowl cut. He waves at you politely, smiling slightly, and you nod in response, waving back.

Arataka unbuttons his jacket and hangs it on the wall, and you have to clench your fists tightly to stop yourself from staring.

"Now," Arataka says smoothly, taking a seat in his chair and looking so, so attractive, "what package shall you take?"

He pulls out a piece of paper, with three courses labelled.

"Option A, the trial course, gets you 20% spirit reduction; option B, the serious course, which gets you 50% spi—"

Mob leans in to whisper something into his ear, and Arataka seems to be taken aback for a moment. He scoffs, hissing in a whisper, "Of COURSE there's a spirit, you just can't see it," which Mob seems to be placated by, going back to his spot reading manga.

Arataka clears his throat, opening his mouth to speak again.

"As I was saying," he glares at Mob, "Option A, the trial course, gets you 20% spirit reduction; option B, the serious course, which gets you 50% spirit reduction; and option C, the all-out course, gets you 99% spirit reduction." He gestures for you to take the seat in front of the desk.

"Of course," he says, grinning just like the hideous poster on the wall, "if it comes back, I'll get rid of it — for 20% off."

Sitting down, you bring the paper close to you...

...And find that every course is above your budget.

You smile nervously, pushing the paper back to him and getting up from your chair. This has clearly been a complete waste of time, especially since it all seems so sketchy, and you've only fallen for it because he's handsome...

"S... Sorry, Arataka," you apologise, bowing slightly once you've gotten up from your chair. "I can't really afford anything."

You move to the door, and it's only a moment later that you hear Arataka scrambling to get out of that fancy office chair, his brow slick with sweat and his words rushing out of his mouth.

"Woah, woah, woah, hey, my success rates are 99.9%! All my clients leave happy!" He cries, a note of desperation in his voice.

You shake your head, smiling politely. "No thanks."

He panics again as you reach for the doorknob. Your movements are slow — so, so slow, and it's definitely apparent that you're just stalling, as if waiting to see if he'll do anything.

He takes advantage of that.

Half stumbling and half sliding in front of you and using his body to block the door, he stands, gathering himself for a moment before—

"H-hey, hey, wait—!"

Arataka grips your shoulders tightly, beginning to massage. You pause, silent, a little taken aback.

"Feels good, right?" He says quietly as you almost melt at his touch. He's standing directly in front of you, staring at— no, studying your face as he moves his fingers in firm, soothing circles. "Like it?"

Your shoulders are absolutely screwed up.

You hum, rolling your joints a little bit. Arataka feels a surge of pride when a chorus of the cracking of your messed up bones fill the air, though he still presses gentle, relieving circles and dots into your skin, pressing enough for you to feel it firmly below the clothing you wear.

His touch, though soft and caring, is... Firm. Very, very firm, very unyielding. It's clear that he knows what he's doing, and it's clear that he's confident that this will work. His fingers are round dots of alleviation as they press softly into your skin, and their movements and placements are careful and calculative.

He grips your shoulders, dragging you slowly, slowly, slowly to the chair in the middle of the room and sitting you down on it.

Now that you're seated, Arataka feels your neck and shoulders a little. He goes round and round your little chair, pressing at this spot and that spot — he's looking for something, it's clear; he's looking for tightness or rigidity beneath your skin, places to apply pressure, places to soothe and fix.

You barely notice how his hands seem to almost lovingly caress you.

"Here?"

He bends down and shifts his hand a little closer to your neck, near that place that always aches when you look down — the base of the movement and the base of the neck itself. You sigh in delight, leaning into his touch — sending waves of butterflies and pride swelling in Arataka. His heart nearly bursts out of his chest as he sees you get more and more relaxed, enjoying his touch. His cheeks flush and a dopey grin adorns his face.

He hums, pressing more firmly and confidently.

It's about a minute later when Arataka retracts his hands almost reluctantly, his fingers lingering on you. You roll your neck and shoulders, sitting up and off the chair.

"I must say, Arataka," you say, shoving him slightly as a sort of playful gesture. His cheeks flush at the contact, a cute little grin on his face.

"That was a great massage."

His grin grows prideful, jabbing a thumb at himself proudly.

"You're talking to the greatest psychic of the 21st century, here!"

You sigh, almost dreamily so, as Arataka begins to go on and on and on about all his achievements, his accomplishments, his goals...

...

You pause. You have to pay — you can't just get caught up in his silly little endearing antics again.

"Um, Arataka?"

You interrupt him as he's talking proudly about himself, and he stares at you, a little confused and a little annoyed. He doesn't really care if it's you, though.

You gesture to the paper on the desk, the one with all the courses and prices. Your tone is regretful; you shouldn't have fallen so easily for such a blatant scam, c'mon, you're smarter than this...

"I can't pay. I didn't bring enough money."

Arataka pauses. Gears seem to turn in his head for a moment before his eyes light up, another one of those adorable horrible grins settling on his face again.

"Tell you what."

He tries to lean on the wall, finds that it's too far, and stumbles instead. He clears his throat, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

"Instead of paying, how about you..."

His grin widens as he pauses for dramatic effect. You wait patiently.

He's not actually pausing for dramatic effect, though; he's trying to get time to prepare what his tone will be, how his body language will look, how loud and confident his voice is...

It's a really, really long pause.

"...Go on a date with me?"

A date? With him? Mob's just sitting on the little couch in the corner of the room when he looks up from his manga, intrigued by the word 'date'.

Great. Now you've got a 14-year-old's pressure on your back.

You hum for a moment, thinking, as though your answer will be anything but a resounding yes. Your cheeks are flushed, but so are his once he hears what you say in response.

"Yes, please."

His grin widens in absolute joy, and he puts his hands harshly, securely in his pockets to prevent himself from grabbing you by the collar and sloppily kissing you right now.

He opens and closes his mouth to speak multiple times before he decides on what to say. He looks so, so happy — his eyes are wide and full of wonder, his grin is big and silly, and his cheeks are that same sweet pink as on the bus.

"Saturday? Saturday, 8:00 PM?"

You nod.

And waving goodbye as you open the door to leave, "I'll see you on Saturday."

[sorrow--wolf]

I was gonna post something else today, but it's like, not even remotely close to done, so I drew this idea that's been rotating around in my brain for a bit real quick instead!

I headcanon that Flapjack liked being as physically close to Hunter as possible, but especially near his heart. I also feel like Flap probably really liked nesting in Hunter's clothes for similar reasons, because I just think that’s cute

You can probably tell I really didn't know what to do with the background, and ended up throwing something together then defaulted to accidental lesbian colors because I have to actively force myself to not use anything between red-orange and red-violet on the color wheel. That region is just so nice, it gives my brain happy juices to use the colors and look at them together even if it doesn't suit the piece at all. Over all, I'm pretty proud of how this turned out!~

Here's some alt colors

[signedxoxoviolet]

Stuck

Professor!reader and Snape are stuck in a closet.

Warnings: smut (18+) READ AT YOUR OWN RISK., bad english and grammar, unprotected sex

Tags: F!Reader, Forced Proximity, French Kissing, Fluff in the first half, Snape Loves Tea, Petnames, Switch!Snape (Mostly Dom!), Professor!Reader, Oral (Male receiving), P in V Sex, Virgin Snape, Fingering

Author’s note: the way this idea flashed in my mind is incredible LMAO (do you put coffee in a tea-cup????)

Guide: (Y/N): your name, (L/N): last name, (H/C): hair color, (E/C): eye color, (S/N): subject name.

read on Ao3 — coming soon…

You’re a professor at Hogwarts, you teach (S/N). You’re actually a pretty good teacher, your bubbly and cheerful personality keeps the student hooked with the lesson and eager to learn more.

Unlike Snape, you’ve been friends with him since you two went to Hogwarts as children, not that he isn’t a good teacher. He is. It’s just that he’s way more cold and strict with the students, but that’s just because he cares about them..right?

You’re currently in the teachers lounge, which is simply a small library and a old empty closet in it, you always wondered what it was for, probably for Boggart studies. You shrug and turn back to the coffee you are brewing on the little stove and counter located up against an empty wall, the counter was filled with small tea-cups, coffee beans and tea bags. You pour the coffee in the small tea-cup you previously grabbed, steam coming out.

Suddenly the door swings open and a dark broad figure comes in, you slightly jump, almost spilling the coffee and snap you’re head towards the figure.

“Oh..Sev, it’s you!” You smile and take a sigh of relief.

“Obviously.” He says sarcastically walking towards the counter, next to you.

“You want some.” You smile warmly, indicating the coffee. He simply looks at you and shakes his head grabbing a bag of black tea, his favorite. “You know i hate coffee, (Y/N)” He starts to make tea.

You roll your eyes laughing a bit and taking a sip of the hot coffee in your hands. “Yes, yes, i know you do.”

“I know you better than you think.”

“Oh, really?” He answers, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” You put the coffee down and look up at him.

“Prove it.” He smirks gently.

“Uhm..well i know you badly want to be a Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, but get constantly denied.” You smile.

He can’t help but chuckle darkly. “Well that isn’t fair, is it? It’s something i said to you.”

You sigh “Well..if you weren’t so mysterious all the time i would more know about you..”, you tease, tracing the rim of your tea-cup smirking and biting your bottom lip.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” You turn to him, tilting your head slightly. “I mean..even the student say that about you, they say you’re dark and mean…” you trail off.

“And do you believe that?” He snaps his head towards yours.

“Huh?”

“Do you think i’m dark and mean, darling?” He says looking at you up and down, leaning against the counter. You feel your cheeks heat up when he calls you that, the word “darling” said in his deep tone with that perfect British accent made you feel a type a way. A type of way you haven’t felt since you were young.

You had a crush for Severus, though you never confessed because he only had eyes for Lily. Your best friend. You thought that with the years your feelings faded away, but you knew deep down you still felt butterflies in your stomach when Snape walked close to you or brushed his hand against your body.

You gulp “U-uhm..no.”

He smirked and turned back to his tea.

“Why’d you ask, Sev?”

“No reason.”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered like that, (Y/N)” He says before taking a sip of his coffee.

Your eyes widen as you look down and touch your cheeks; you’re burning hot, fuck! Professor Snape chuckles quietly as you look away.

“Thank you..” You mutter out. Before trying to change the subject, feeling yourself getting embarrassed.

“I-uh..what does that closet do? I mean, what is it used for..” You walk to the old dusty closet, Snape looks at you from behind. “Lessons, of course.”

“What kind, though?” You ask, inspecting the closet door, closing and opening it making creak sounds from how old it is. Snape sighs and slowly heads towards you, putting the tea away.

“I’m not sure..” He trails off. You hear his voice in your ear, he’s right behind you, you feel your back brush up against his front you blush more as you stumble in the closet. He quicker grabs your waist to prevent you from falling, stepping in the closet too. As soon as he does the closets door shut close and lock.

You break slowly from his grip around your waist, your bodies now completely close to eachother since the closet’s so small. You try to budge the doors open, nothing. You sigh and groan a bit, until giving up and sighing louder. “Fuck..”

“We’re stuck..” You whine.

Snape’s gaze adverts from your eyes to the closet doors as he uses a spell to try and open them; nothing, again.

“See, i told you!” You sigh defeatedly.

“Well. It won’t be long until the other Professors realize we’re missing. It’s almost dinner.”

“Severus, dinner is in 2 hours, until then?” You arch your eyebrows and pout, feeling like crying.

“Until then we just have to wait, can you do that, doll?”

You blush again, doll, really? Was he trying to make you blush. You cross your arms and turn to the side.

“No..i..im sorry.” You mutter.

“What, what’s wrong?”

“I just can’t..keep calm.”

“Ah, i suppose you’re claustrophobic, mh?”

“No, Sev. It’s not that, it’s..you.” You blush harder, and look at him. He looks confused, tilting his head to the side and raising an eyebrow before realizing.

“I fucking want you, Severus.” You blurt out, grabbing the collar of his shirt pulling him closer and biting your bottom lip.

“Dear, i don’t think this is an appropriate time..” He mutters grabbing your hips.

“Please, Sev..i’ve been waiting my whole fucking life.” You whine. Severus suddenly smashes his lips on yours, leaning down and squeezing your hips. Your eyes widen before they slowly close, both of your tongues fighting for dominance, your eyebrows furrow and arch as his tongue finds his way into your mouth, exploring it fully.

You push yourself against the wall behind you and start to undress yourself, sliding off your skirt, then playing with the waist band of his pants, Snape breaks the kiss panting, both of your lips glossy and red from the encounter. He looks down at your hands fumbling with the buttons of his pants.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He sweetly teases looking back at you. You nod smirking as his pants fall to his knees, revealing his black boxers, matching your black panties. You slip your finger across the waistband and pull them down too, his massive length springing out, tip already covered in pre-cum, making him groan quietly.

You lean down and gently lick his tip, making him shutter and moan your name. His hands flat on the wall in front of him as you get on your knees in front of him, staring at throbbing cock in front of you.

“You’re fuckin’ huge Sev..” you trail off, drooling a bit, making him groan more. “You’re a virgin, right?” He nods closing his eyes in anticipation. “See..i know you better than you think..” You smirk and lick his tip again, making him moan louder.

“(Y/N) fuck..” He looks down at you on your knees.

You start lapping down his cock, feeling every vein in your mouth and feeling it twitch from excitement, making you moan against it.

You start bobbing your head up and down his length, making him moan again and again.

“For Merlin’s sake..(Y/N)..” He puts a hand in your luscious (H/C) hair, pulling it and tangling in it gently as you bob your head faster, feeling tears in your eyes as his cock kept hitting your uvula and messing with your gag reflex.

“Y-Yes! Fuck..just like that, darling, s-shit..you feel amazing..” He throws his head back, thrusting in your mouth, making you gasp and hit against the wall behind you, tears start streaming down your face as he slows down only to thrust faster again, feeling himself come closer. You mutter and moan against his hardness, sucking on him, feeling your pussy clench and get wetter every sound he makes.

“A-ah..dear, i-i’m gonna come i-in your m-mouth..Fuck! I-is that..?” He trails off looking down at your pretty (E/C) eyes as you nod, wiping your tears gently before feeling his load fall down your throat with and orgasm, you swallow it and pull your mouth off his still hard penis, you stand up slowly.

“F-fuck me?” You ask panting.

“Absolutely..” He grabs your thighs and pushes you against the wall, your legs wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck. He moves the panties to the side, revealing your opening.

“Finger me first, baby..stretch me out..~” You say guiding his fingers on your soaked pussy.

“You’re absolutely soaked sweetheart..” He whispers, sliding two fingers in your clit making you moan his name. He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slow paste before taking his fingers out and sliding them in your mouth.

“Like that, dear? Do you taste good?”

Your tongue swirls around his fingers and nod, he smirk and takes them out and back to your vulva, pumping in and out harder. You push your thighs together gently, making more friction as you gasp and moan. “S-Shit, Severus..deeper..” You beg as you guide his finger deeper into your vagina, he curls his fingers into you as you moan louder.

You feel yourself getting closer.

“Are you close, doll-face?” He asks

You nod the walls of your cunt closing against his big fingers.

“Go on, make a mess on my hand, love. Come on me.” He whispers and kisses your cheek.

You moan and with a louder orgasm you release on his hand, then shoving his fingers in your mouth again, making you taste yourself, he smirks in pleasure and plunges his cock into you with no warning. You gasp as he takes his fingers out and glides them to your thighs, holding you gently.

He chuckles quietly, his face next to yours as he started thrusting into your pussy, almost hitting your g-spot, you whine, bucking your hips to help him, he hits your sweet spot and starts thrusting faster.

You’re almost screaming.

“Honey, you’re so..tight..” He says, kissing your neck.

“So” Thrust “Fucking” Thrust “Small” Thrust “For” Thrust” “My” Thrust “Big” Thrust “Cock!”

He pants feeling you so close again you almost cry.

“Sev..close!!” You throw your head back to the wall behind you as he speeds up his thrusts more and more, your eyes roll at the back of your head. “Come again dear. Do it on my cock.” He says, pulling out another orgasm out of you, making you finish all over his dick, your cream dripping down on the floor of the closet, making a mess. He chuckled quietly.

“In or out sweetheart?” He asks, closer to his climax. “I-in please.” You whine as he comes in your vulva, painting it white cream, he takes out his cock from your small entrance, a bit of his cum dripping down on the floor, you giggle.

Suddenly you hear quick footsteps heading towards the closet, you both quickly get dressed.

A muttered spell can be heard from behind the closet doors, unlocking them. The person opens the doors.

“Merlin’s beard! You’re both okay.” Minerva said, “I heard sounds from the closet, it sounded like you two were in trouble.” You blush a bit.

“Uh..yeah, we were screaming for help..” You look at Snape, his cold expression making you shiver.

“Well now, let’s head to the Great Hall, it’s time for dinner.” Professor Mcgonagall says, walking towards the Great Hall, expecting you two to follow.

When you arrived there, Snape couldn’t help but sneak his hand under your skirt.

[simplepotatofarmer]

the piece of dsmp lore that haunts me the most is 'your technoblade'

[moodymisty]

Listen I know the wall husbands heads are full of concrete but I'm interested in what you could do with a black templar

Maybe having a cleric darling (Thinking more of a lay person vs someone like a sister of battle) so there can be some delicious religious subtext

But I also know some black templars are very much into seeing when normal baseline humans can overcome the odds and rise above with their own zeal.

Maybe she isn't a combatant but by the God Emperor she will help out however she can even if it is just passing him boltgun magazines.

I got ideas for Black Templars but they're all over the place! Maybe you can make more sense of my ramblings and since it's still on the brain it could be Yandere or not just however you can make a Black Templar with a Darling work

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: So... I went apeshit. I apologize. I just fucking love doing religious subtext and whatnot. Also the frail maiden with her knight. Combining them? Awooga. Like this is my dream prompt. I hope you enjoy.

Summary: His thumb presses against your lips, and your mouth opens. You can taste the metal on your tongue, like bitter iron. His hand despite being so inhumanly large is so dextrious and gentle, and the thoughts that enter your mind are sickening.

Relationships: Unnamed Black Templar/Fem!Reader (there aren't pronouns used but the lady/knight vibe is super intense)

Warnings: A smidge lewd but not NSFW, Vague traditional gender roles-like talk (being gentle/needing to be protected etc), Religious under(over)tones, Forbidden romance undertones, Vague yandere/yandere beginnings, Armor kink if you squint, Brief mentions of blood and murder, General 40kness

Word Count: 2209 oops uwu

Ceramite boots thud against the floor like the thunder overhead, echoing in the high, vaulted ceilings.

He hears a tile crack underneath his right boot as he shifts his weight onto it mid-step.

He was always heavier than his brothers. His armor had to be adjusted three different times to fit him as he outgrew it.

'Leave him, he’s off to go for his prayers, and to stalk the locals.’

His one battle brother had laughed at the other’s comment, as he left them all behind to return to the cathedral. It's far from his first time here, in these sanctified halls. He finds himself returning here after almost every patrol, every outing, every moment alone.

His armor shifts with his movement, and he rolls his left shoulder during his walk. He’s had the armor fixed after a stray round hit him in the shoulder, but it still feels off. Like the motion is ever so slightly delayed in comparison to his other interface ports.

He'll get it looked at again. For now he has a different pursuit.

It’s the dead of the night, moon high in the sky as he walks through the nave past pews filled with nothing but air. At this time of night he knows it will only be you here, keeping candles lit and rolling scrolls. A stray servoskull might flutter past every now and again, but other than that, you remain in complete solitude.

No distractions, no needless fluff. You're always busy, fluttering about, making yourself useful where you can. You aren't able to fight, not this threat, but your obedience in cleaning armor- weapons when an Astartes allows- and other such duties has earned you enough to stay where your fellows have left.

Many of the other human refugees have been shipped off at this point, to become the Militarium's logistical problem. You and a few others however have earned your keep. At least in the eyes of the Black Templars.

You'll be far safer here than in a Militarium camp stuffed in with hundreds to thousands of others; Like animals waiting to be shipped off world.

You'll be far safer here with him.

There you are. He can spot you from across the cathedral, and a part of him wonders why it has such an effect on him. His hearts beat faster and his neck tenses; It feels like how he does whenever he's about to fight, but also distinctly different. It almost makes him feel like he's sick from an illness he can't explain.

The moment you hear him however, knowing the sound of an astartes this late and this far away from his brothers could only be him, your back straightens. You've been leaning over for awhile, and your body makes uncooperative cracks as you stand at his approach.

He stops in front of you, at the bottom of the ambulatory steps that rise up to the main altar. You stand at the top of them, quickly moving aside so he can come closer. When he does, you can feel his gaze through the lens of his helmet. It always feels heavy, even when his helmet isn't tilted you way you swear you can feel whenever his eyes are on you.

With both hands he unseals his helmet with a soft hiss, grasping it by the rim before handing it to you. It’s almost too heavy for your grip, but you manage to hold it close to your chest and avoid dropping it. Meanwhile he takes a knee, elbow on his knee as he drops his head in prayer.

His chainsword shifts on his back, over top of a long, tattered cape that's stained with mud and blood at the bottom hem. Astartes don't leave their armor during war, and so the cloth holds the weeks long stench of iron and rotting flesh. It simply burns however, until a few minutes later and then you can no longer smell. For the best, more than likely.

The cathedral is cast in complete silence, his shoulders shifting underneath plates of ceramite. He always is whenever he prays, unlike his brothers in the few times you've seen them. Perhaps it's just a quirk of his. Or maybe they're the odd ones.

Then again, they aren't the ones visiting an empty cathedral in the dead of night, only to meet a single person. Over and over again.

When he rises, he gently takes his helmet from your hands and latches it onto his belt. You speak up for the first time since he appeared.

"Have you made good progress out there? The weather seems to only be getting worse."

He looks down at you; His short, hastily chopped hair dry and pressed in odd places from the pressure of his helmet. It's mostly dry now, but you can tell it was wet not long ago. He must've taken his helmet off in the rain and was instantly soaked to the bone.

"The Emperor watches over us. We will prevail despite the deluge."

Said deluge batters on the tall glass windows of the cathedral, and thunder cracks not much later. The sound gives you a momentary jolt. This particular storm has been going all day, but the area has been battered with rainstorms for weeks now on and off. It might not slow them down, but you can see dried chunks of mud where they've had to trudge through it to progress. Most of it is washed away on him now, the rain having cleaned his armor significantly.

Your hands grasp each other tightly, no longer having his helmet to act as some sort of grounding.

"I tried to pray like you do, this morning." His eyes noticeably brighten ever the slightest, as your voice echos in the empty cathedral. "I wanted to pray to the Emperor that you stayed safe out there."

You don't know if he finds it amusing; But the corner of his mouth quirks upward ever so slightly anyways.

"Then pray for our victory, not our safety. What matters is that we succeed," He states.

You hear the mechanics in his armor shift as he leans slightly more on his left leg than right. It's like the armor is simply an extension of himself, and you suppose it is.

He is the first astartes you've even seen, so your knowledge is sparse. A small part of you has so many questions you'd wish to ask him, not knowing if he'd even entertain you with an answer.

You're fascinated by him; You wonder if he thinks the same of you. The way he acts lends you to think so, but you don't know how to feel about it.

In the corner of your eye you notice movement, and turn to the right just a bit and see someone walking across the nave. But when they catch sight of you and one of the Black Templars, the scurry out of the main hall like death was on their heels.

It isn't the first time someone has made a conscious effort to avoid you, now that you have an astartes taking such an interest in you. People are keen to spend as little time around them as possible- as despite them being the primary source protecting you all, they have more than displayed their fickle nature. One misspoken word and you could be gone. It's happened before. You know of a few faces that have disappeared with little a word.

You must look away from him for too long, as suddenly his armored hand grasps your jaw, turning your face back to him. The awkward angle due to his height makes your neck ache, and you grasp at the seams of his gauntlet for any sort of support.

"Are you going to try and run like they did?"

He says, watching you like he's looking for something more than a simple answer.

You wonder what he sees. If he notices the way your heart has begun to race in fear and something else, as he overtakes your vision. That something else was only for those rare moments of solitude where your reasoning left you, and your mind wandered to areas it shouldn't. If you'd known any better, you might've thought such things were blasphemous, or something of the sort.

Suddenly, you remember that he's waiting for an answer; You watch as the scars on his face move when he shifts his jaw.

"No."

He takes a step closer and with no more room your back presses against the altar just behind you. You risk nearly bending over it from how close he is, his dominant leg taking root just close enough that your legs have to part to let his knee past.

The shadow of the window mullions decorate the back of his armor, the light making the shadows against his face even harsher. You can even see the shadows of large rain droplets against his pauldrons, sliding down as if they've actually fallen on him. You can hear them hit the glass as the wind whistles outside and rattles the glass.

You watch him wondering; His eyes and face are completely unreadable. Astartes are so stoic, any little emotion is held invisible deep within themselves. Trying to figure out what he's thinking is an impossible task, though it's clear the interest he has in you is no longer just curiosity. That thought makes your heart pound against your chest as if it's trying to escape, your blood hot.

His thumb presses against your lips, and your mouth opens. You can taste the metal on your tongue, like bitter iron. His hand despite being so inhumanly large is so dextrious and gentle, and the thoughts that enter your mind are sickening.

It feels like he's toying with you; Experimenting with something new as he watches the way your soft skin gives under his armor. Your hands and gentle skin have faint crumbles of candle wax and ink on them from your work, as they grasp his armor.

You're terrified. You want more of him. You'll be happy to burn if that's what it requires.

"You'll come with me, when we are finished here."

You whisper his name, telling him yes as if you were foolish enough to think you had a choice in the matter. No one but him is here to hear it.

If someone was you wouldn't be able to see them from the way his massive armored form overtakes almost all of your vision, swallowing you in a sea of shadow and pitch black armor. They would see as he leans down, his thumb leaving your lips. You can feel his hot breath on your skin. The way he almost seems to suffocate you with how much of his body looms over you, just to get close. You can hear your own heartbeat so you just know he can, his eyes dilated and nearly total black.

Your back hurts pressing against the edge of the altar, feeling vulnerable underneath his unreadable stare. The fabric of your clothing bunches in places and rises up on your body, catching on the seams of his leg plates. His armor might be cold, but astartes run hot; Like their blood is boiling, so beneath that metal chill is the heat from the skin visible on his face and neck. You think if the cathedral was any colder, his hot breath would be visible.

His lips hover over yours, brushing as if he's so thoroughly detailing every step of this. Savoring each moment, or perhaps just toying with you. Watching the way a human so much smaller than him writhes under his grip at his mercy. You want to finish it, but the hand clamped around your jaw won't allow you, as much as you want to yearn and beg and plead to k-

'Brother. Return from toying with the refugees, the chaplain has returned with an update.'

Suddenly audible is a deep voice shaken by vox distortion emanating from his helmet; His head turns ever so slightly in it's direction. The bow of his upper lip brushes over yours as he does so. His brow furrows and he seems visibly irritated, interrupted during the worst possible time. You are as well, though it's more of desperation as you try to silence the way the your body aches for just him.

But as quick as it had begun it all ends, as he rises to his full height and removes his hand from your jaw. It complains with the promise of a hefty bruising, as he uses the same gauntlet to one handed slip his helmet back onto his head.

You can feel him stare at you even through the lenses, as he shifts in his armor and walks past where you stand splayed against the altar, clothes a mess. Your legs wobble as if about to give out from underneath you without his support, a weight like a rock in your lower belly.

He walks down the ambulatory in silence and leaves you alone once more, but you know it won't be for long.

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 16

Image Source

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 2.2k

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

The world felt soft around you. You took a deep breath in through your nose as you curled deeper into the softness of the blanket. You gripped it and felt a hard frame dig under your fingers, and a soft rise and fall. You curled your head in and felt a heavy hand resting on your hip, a welcome pressure and warmth as you yawned slightly, wiping your face onto the blanket. You opened your eyes and became aware of where you were, and when you looked up, you saw Kai, his mouth slightly open, breathing slowly in and out. You shot up, awaking Kai as you did, accidentally pushing into his stomach and he let out a grunt as the air left his lungs. 

“Well good morning to you too.” He wheezed out, rubbing the back of his head. 

“I’m so sorry.” You said, rising up, brushing the front of your dress down. “I shouldn’t have stayed. I’m sorry.” 

Kai only looked at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have stayed, I’m sorry.” You repeated, trying to gather your shoes you’d taken off. 

“You don’t need to rush off.” Kai said, and then added, “And you don’t need to apologize either.” 

“I just-” you started, “I shouldn’t have done all of this.” 

“Y/N, it’s okay,” Kai repeated. 

You tried to calm your racing thoughts as you dug in the blankets for your other shoe. 

“Y/N, just stop.” Kai ordered, “Just calm down.” 

You stopped, your chest heaving. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“I just-” you started, “I shouldn’t have told you all of that last night, and I shouldn’t have stayed.” 

“You would have left in the middle of the night? And then what?”

You stammered out, “I’m sorry Kai, this was a mistake.”

Kai gestured around, “Where is the mistake? We had dinner, we drank, we talked, we fell asleep.” 

You tried to reason through your feelings. Why did you feel so dirty, so foul. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” You said. 

“What idea should I not be getting?” Kai asked. 

You stammered again, “That I’m like, leading you on.”

Kai chuckled. “Ah, I see.” 

You looked at him, slightly confused by his response. 

“We had dinner,” Kai repeated, “And then you fell asleep. I don’t see where me offering you dinner and then us spending time together is you leading me on.” You looked at him, unsure of what to say, “And even if I felt those feelings towards you, I’m a grown male. I can handle rejection.” 

You tried to speak but couldn’t get anything out other than, “I’m sorry,” you dropped your face to your hands, “I’m being stupid.”

Kai chuckled, “Yes, but that’s nothing new.”

You shook your head. “I shouldn’t have told you all of that.” 

Kai rose to his feet, slightly taller than you and approached you, pulling your hands down, “I asked.” He said, “You told me.” 

You shook your head, “It’s not your concern.” 

“You’re right,” Kai responded. “It’s not, unless I want to think about it. Which I may. And I may feel sad you have to deal with all of it, but it’s not life changing for me. And I don’t regret you telling me.”

You shook your head again, Kai pushed your chin up to look at him, “I don’t think less of you. I’m not upset and I don’t feel burdened with this information about your life.” He joked, “And I’m also not falling in love with you, since apparently you think so highly of yourself.” 

You smiled and chuckled slightly. 

Kai stepped back, “So let’s move on. Let’s call it what it was, a fun night between friends.” You nodded slightly. Swallowing back your fear. “Nothing more.”

“Nothing more.” You repeated. 

________________________________________________________

You helped Kai clean the cottage up, folding the blanket back, and rinsing plates in the well behind it. The whole time Kai made idle chitchat seemingly normal in comparison to your own mind which continued to race with regret. This male, so kind and pure, so unburdened and the second you felt a moment of comfort you may as well have slit your stomach open and let the contents fall out in front of him. You cursed the ease at which you allowed yourself to share all of that. You tried to justify it being the wine, but you had feared for a while getting too close to anyone again. You couldn’t fully figure out why you felt so against letting people in, but you felt an inherent need to distrust whoever you could, as if in any moment they might turn on you. 

Kai helped you load the rest of your things onto Clover, who seemed annoyed that you were intending to still make the journey home. He seemed content to live the rest of his days on Kai’s lawn. 

When you tried to say a speedy goodbye Kai turned you to look at him. “Hey,” he started, “I’ll see you later?” He asked. 

You nodded slightly, and wished him well, turning to walk back into the woods. As you retraced your steps, you replayed the scene in your mind—the happiness and peace you felt wrapped in Kai’s arms, how quiet the world had seemed to be. Your mate was absent last night and eerily silent today, leaving an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Days turned into nights and back into days again, a routine of solitude and fleeting shadows that seemed to drift behind trees and under bushes, always keeping you on edge.

When you returned home, you released Clover into his pen and unloaded your bags onto the table in your cabin. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady yourself. The world wouldn’t end just because you’d opened the door to someone. You kept repeating this to yourself, knowing Kai held no ill will and had no ulterior motive. He had laughed but had sworn to keep your secrets.

You tried to busy yourself, but your mind kept flitting back to the conversation, distracting you to the point where you accidentally sliced your finger while cutting vegetables. You watched the blood seep from the wound, dripping onto the dirt below as you tried to focus on the searing pain.

You wouldn't ruin this for yourself. You wouldn’t run from this.

---

A few weeks later, as summer faded into autumn, you found yourself running low on sugar and flour. You were also growing stir-crazy from being alone, so you decided to take a trip into the village, opting to leave Clover behind. The entire journey, you rehearsed what you would say to Kai, trying to sound normal, which just made you feel more strange. You did the entire journey in a day, propelled by your own anxiety.

When you crested the hill, peering down into the village, you gulped down your fear. You ran your usual errands, not sure if you were hoping to see Kai or not. After getting what you needed and exchanging pleasantries, you found yourself standing in front of his cottage door. Your hand hovered above the door for a good minute as you raised and lowered it, debating whether to knock. Finally, you built up the confidence and knocked, your heart in your throat.

From behind you, you heard, “Thank gods you finally did it.”

You whipped around to see Kai, his linen shirt slightly unbuttoned, casually leaning against the banister of the stairs. “I thought we’d be here for another hour before you finally got around to it.”

“You ass!” you yelled. “How long have you been standing here?”

“As long as you’ve been considering knocking,” Kai chuckled, shaking the loose hair out of his face.

“You really are an ass, you know that?” you threw at him.

Kai stood from the banister, walking up the stairs to you, opening the door. “Only when you remind me,” he said, flashing you a cheeky grin.

You stood in the doorway as Kai entered, throwing down his satchel full of tools and kicking off his boots. He turned over his shoulder, “You coming?”

You stepped through the door, standing awkwardly near the entrance as you pulled it shut behind you.

Kai busied himself unpacking his bag before he looked up at you from where he squatted on the floor. “You gonna say something or did you just come here to stare at my glorious physique?” he asked, gesturing to himself.

You stammered out, “I- I don’t know why I’m feeling so nervous.”

Kai furrowed his brow, standing up, rubbing his hands on his pants. “Why are you nervous?” he asked.

“I-I just have been feeling really off these last few weeks,” you said.

Kai rubbed his hands over his face. “Gods, Y/N, are you still thinking about what happened? Or what didn’t happen?” he asked.

“No!” you said back, slightly too loudly.

Kai chuckled, “So then what’s got you so jumpy?”

You swallowed, and Kai looked slightly concerned. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked, taking a few steps towards you.

Your eyes widened as he closed the gap between you. “I-” you started until he was in front of you, peering down at you with concern in those green eyes. Those beautifully green eyes.

“I-” you stammered again, and then you were up on your toes, your hands wrapping around the back of his neck, fingers curling into that stupidly unkempt hair, your lips pressing into his with a desperation you didn’t know you had in you. Kai seemed taken aback slightly, his arms wide before he melted into your kiss. He leaned forward, bringing you back down onto your feet, his arms wrapping around your back and waist as you tasted each other. He tasted of sun and sweat, and you pressed yourself deeper into him, your hand clenched in his hair, eliciting a groan from him. Kai pressed you against the door, his body curling against yours, one hand firmly against the wood. Your tongues danced, the sound of your breathing echoing between you as you explored each other’s lips. You gripped his shirt as though you were dying of thirst, and Kai lifted you slightly, his hand pressing into you.

When you finally pulled back, you kept your eyes closed, your lips slightly parted as you breathed heavily. You opened your eyes to see Kai smiling slightly down at you.

“That’s what you were nervous about?” he joked.

You scowled at him. “No.”

Kai laughed, “Then can you tell me, or can we kiss some more?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“A handsome, irresistible idiot that you couldn’t wait to kiss?” he asked.

You pushed your hands into his chest, giggling slightly. “I can most certainly resist you.”

“Mm, doesn’t seem like you can, given you debated for about an hour about knocking on my door,” Kai said as you pushed past him into the main room. He turned to look at you, leaning casually against the door, eyes glazed and his hair tousled where you had run your hands through it.

“You certainly think highly of yourself,” you mocked him, crossing your arms.

Kai smirked, “I have to admit, I do feel like a winner.” You rolled your eyes as Kai looked at you. “Let it be told that you kissed me. You started that.”

You looked to the floor, rubbing your forehead slightly. “I know,” you laughed out. “I-I don’t know why I did that.”

Kai gestured to himself, “Irresistible charm and charisma.”

“Sure,” you responded. “I’m sorry.”

“You love that phrase,” he said. You glared at him. “I’m just saying, you say that every other sentence.”

“I do not!” you scowled at him.

“You do too,” he said back. “You look at me when I’m talking to you and apologize for it.”

“Well I’m-” you caught yourself.

“See! You were about to do it again,” Kai said, pointing at you.

“I was not!”

“You absolutely were,” Kai immediately said back.

“You’re so annoying,” you groaned at him.

“Annoyingly handsome?” he smirked back.

“You know I had plans to come here to tell you I needed some distance and time,” you said, leaning against the table.

“And then you attacked me and kissed me.”

“I did not!” you shouted.

“Mm, kind of did,” he said, shrugging. “Seems a little counterintuitive.”

“Look,” you started. Kai looked at you, but you ran out of words to say.

“I’m going to be honest,” Kai said, “I’m not sure I can so easily just pretend that it didn't mean anything. But if you need that to just have been an overcome moment of emotional vulnerability, and you don’t want it to mean anything, I can try to act like that,” he offered.

You shook your head, unsure what to say.

“Or we can move on like that didn’t happen.”

You considered the options, but with Kai standing across from you, so casual, so easy to be with and talk to, so close—you didn’t want to just act like it didn’t mean anything.

You crossed closer to him. “I think it doesn’t not mean anything.”

Kai furrowed his brow, looking up slightly. “So that means...?” he said.

“Shut up and kiss me again,” you growled at him. And he did.

Everything inside of you felt as though it were on fire. Every sensation became heightened as you were enveloped in the kiss, from your fingertips down to your toes. You took him in, tasted him, and devoured him. For the first time in a long time, your mind went completely silent. Kai gripped your hip, hoisting you onto the table. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he ran his hands down the small of your back, while your hands explored his shoulders and neck, firm from years of hauling downed trees. The only sounds in the cottage were those of kissing and heavy breathing. Kai’s touch was tentative, his hands gently grazing your skin, as if he were fighting himself from gripping you entirely. You brought your hands to his cheeks, pressing firmly into them as your tongue danced with his.

You hadn’t felt this much uncontrolled passion in years, and your body seemed desperate for more. Anything more that could be offered, you would take. You yearned for someone to touch you, to run their hands over your sacred skin without it burning in pain. You wished night after night for someone to savor your kiss, for you to want to give it without fighting. And here was Kai, hands searching for comfort, moving with your own as if in a dance where you led. His rhythm matched yours as you enveloped yourself in him, your chest pressing into his as you urged him closer, deeper into yourself.

This male, this glorious male who had listened to you, watched you bumble through the history of your life with nothing but a smile on his face, was now fully yours in this moment. Between your legs, you felt the heat of your own anticipation, a longing you hadn’t felt in a very long time. In pressing your hips into Kai’s, it became clear that he too wanted more than what lips could provide. You reached your hand down between the two of you, running your hand up and down the length of him, eliciting a moan from his open mouth.

“Y/N-” he started, the sound of it like ecstasy leaving his lips.

You gripped the back of his head, pulling him closer as you moaned in response.

Kai shifted a bit, pulling back, and you groaned in protest. Your body suddenly lacked the warmth of his, and you felt an immediate emptiness where he had been. You opened your eyes to meet his, slightly downturned, not nearly as glazed over as you were sure your own were.

“Y/N,” he said again.

You sought answers within his eyes, wondering if he was not enjoying this despite what his body had told you.

“What?” you asked, breath barely leaving you.

Kai shook his head, throwing the hair from his eyes. “We need to slow down.”

You shot him a quizzical look, feeling the weight of the world collapse onto your shoulders. “What?” you repeated, pulling the hem of your skirt back down your thighs.

“I just-” Kai started, refusing to meet your gaze. “You’ve been through a lot, and I just want to make sure that you want this.”

You tilted your head slightly, the blood rising in your cheeks. “What do you mean? Of course I want this. I kissed you.”

Kai shook his head lightly, finally meeting you with his green eyes. “I’m just worried that you’re moving quickly, given you haven’t been with anyone since...” He paused, stammering a bit.

You felt a flicker of flame in your stomach as you furrowed your brow, your voice slightly laced with confusion and anger. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“Nothing!” Kai responded. “I don’t know.” He paused, looking towards the floor as he wrapped his hands around the back of his head. “I just don’t want you to rush into this because you think it will make everything better.”

You shook your head in confusion, as though trying to shake those words from existence. “No,” you whispered. “No, that’s not at all what I’m doing.”

Kai looked at you, his eyes focused and hardened. “Am I the first male you’ve been with since him?”

Your eyes frantically searched his face as you paused, considering what answer he might be looking for. “Yes,” you finally answered.

Kai swallowed, and you watched his throat bob as he lingered on your answer. “Am I the first male you’ve told about... everything?”

You took a deep breath in, the flame in your stomach rising higher. “Yes,” you firmly answered.

Kai softened slightly, taking another step towards you, taking your hand in both of his, pressing softly into it. “I just don’t want you to throw yourself into this because I’m the only one you’ve shared this with.”

You pushed back slightly. “Kai, I’m not just throwing myself at you because you did that.”

“I wasn’t saying you were,” he started, but you continued.

“No, no. You’re saying that you think all anyone had to do was listen to my sob story, and I would just fall into their arms?”

Kai’s mouth parted slightly as his eyebrows fell, hardening in defense. “That’s not at all what I’m saying.”

“What? Do you think that I can’t control myself? Or that I haven’t considered all of this?”

“No! I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

You almost yelled out, “Then don’t hurt me!”

Kai stopped, his face softening again as you bore deeply into those green pools. Your own head shook slightly as you sucked your lips between your teeth.

Kai stepped closer, wrapping his hand around your cheek, weaving his fingers into your hair. “I wouldn’t hurt you,” he promised as you slightly turned your head away. He pulled his other hand up to meet the other side of your face, turning you back to him. “Hey, I would never, ever, ever want to hurt you. I don’t even think I could.”

You scanned his face, so innocent, so willing to make promises with so little understanding of their gravity. Kai’s eyes closed as he leaned into you, his lips grazing yours as you let your own eyes close, leaning back into him. His lips softened as you did, as though he pulled the tension from your body through the connection of the two of you and disposed of it. Your body melted back in slightly, but you intended to still hold on to some of the rising displeasure in your stomach.

When he pulled back, you gave him a feigned scowl. “I don’t like that you have that as an option now,” you declared.

Kai only smiled and gave you another soft peck. “I just want to enjoy this with you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure.”

“I’m serious,” Kai gripped your face. “I just want to make sure that this is good for you.”

You shook from his grip. “I’ll be sure to give you a performance update,” you smirked.

Kai’s eyes rolled as he let out a soft huff of exasperation, then smiled genuinely at you. “Just don’t shut me out,” he pleaded slightly.

Your face fell slightly flatter as you just responded, “Don’t give me a reason to.”

To my readers, I'm sorry for what you are about to witness:

@thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @skylarkalchemist @darling006

[angelspawned]

wolf in white van, john darnielle // dndads s1e10 // never love an anchor, the crane wives // dndads s1e48 // i’m your man, mitski // dndads s2e45

[cyborg-franky]

Franky how would Marco react if reader accidentally ate a devil fruit?

Marco x GN Reader SFW

- He didn’t notice the strange fruit at first or he would have picked up on it right away.

So when he turns around when he hears you making a disgusted sound his eyes widen when you bit it.

“Wait, wait that's a- ah” he stares at you, like he’s waiting for something and your just stand there with an unhappy look on your face wishing you’d never bitten into it.

“That was the worst thing I’ve ever eaten, what the hell was it?” You mumbled and rubbed your stomach, something felt strange deep inside of you, a strange sensation bubbling up from your stomach, feeling warm and filling your body, making your head feel light. You sat down and Marco put his hand on your shoulder, a huffed-out laugh.

“That’s because you just ate a devil fruit, yoi!” He said and shook his head, amused but there was a look of concern. “How do you feel?” 

You gawked at him when he told you, “Really?” 

Marco chuckled and brushed some of the hair out of your face. “I don’t know what you expected, ever seen fruit like that before?”

You groaned and flopped back on the seat feeling something new inside of you.

He would be cool and level-headed and there for you when your power manifested. If it was a zoan fruit he’d simply explain that it wasn’t really an accident, the fruit had picked you after all.

Depending on what the power was he would try and help you or find someone on the crew with similar enough powers that you could be helped, taught how to use it to the best of your abilities.

Basically, you were in good hands with Marco but expect some playful teasing.