#as though it is not said to him again and again that he is weak as fuck and holding her back??????

[simpjaes]

heeseung taking out all his anger during sex drabble pls ❤️

MDNI.

this was originally written for jeno on my other blog but it fits so well [i rewrote it/reworded a lot of things. it's much better now lol] wc: 2.3k

tags: Heeseung hate fucks reader when he has a bad day, unprepped penetration, reader basically loses her ability to feel anything other than his cock lmao (cock drunk)

It doesn't always hurt when Heeseung has his hands on you. Really, most of the time it’s blissful. There were those nights though, when he would be rough, careless, and borderline worrisome with you. Oftentimes humiliating you in the way you can barely even mutter his name, weak and quivering under him. 

It doesn’t happen happen, but when it does, you know how much you always end up…kind of loving it.

Really, even if in the moment you’re in pain, sometimes even scared, you had to tell him after the fact to keep doing it. That it’s okay. That you fucking love it. 

Naturally, tonight is another one of those nights. 

Heeseung, first, had you against the counter with his strong arms pressing you back until your head hit the cabinets. You were, essentially, pinned there between his frustrated eyes and the counter top with him slotting himself between your legs. Not a single word is said to you, not a single explanation, and arguably, you know better than to ask. 

You already know. He’s had a bad day.

So, you just let him. Feeling his lips go from a grimace to biting and nipping against your skin. You can only imagine how bad his day went for him to be so silent, still, you let him do as he pleases because you don’t exactly want to make it worse for him. If anything, you’re fine with being an outlet. You get plenty out of this too, after all.

And there is a part of him that knows he’s doing this with you rather than at you, based on your previous pleads to be his outlet. He’s forever in love with the fact that you let him be this rough, with his bruising grip and harsh teeth. There’s nothing more in this world he could need to unwind aside from you and you alone. Solely because you let him.

When he drags you to the bedroom without a word, you simply let him. Internally bubbling with all sort of emotions. Fear, excitement, concern, arousal. He appears to be more angry tonight though, solely because his fingers gripping your wrist hurts much more than usual. You can feel your skin under them, pulling and stretching under his grip as he takes you to where he wants you. 

And yet again, like on many nights like these, he doesn’t offer a single bit of foreplay. He does little more than getting his cock out with that same frustrated face, flicking his head down as if he has an expectation of you. That, he does. You know it very well, and you do as you’re directed. Rolling your pajamas down your leg and easily spreading your legs and pussy for him. 

Unprepped, still mostly dry. You know it’s going to hurt, and he knows it’s going to hurt too. The understanding is mutual but the act is much needed on more ends than just Heeseung’s. 

The drag of his immediate, forced, plunge is uncomfortable for both of you, but something about the feeling of getting you wet while he’s inside of you is something that grounds Heeseung beyond belief. The feeling pulls him out of his red thoughts and turns them a shade darker. 

It’s always you who can distract him. 

And, of course, he only goes faster and harder at that point, chasing the moment for when you’ll slick up for him nice and wet. Gripping onto your body in such a harsh way that all you can do for him is whimper and cry. Your eyes always force the tears, especially when he hasn’t kissed you yet. But even if he had kissed you, you’d be unable to kiss him back at this point. Not until the discomfort subsides anyway.

Thankfully, and like always, it doesn’t take long for your body to want it. What was once the sound of dry and slapping skin turns to that of wet, squelching sounds as you drip out and around him. The drag hurts no more, and by this point you need him to go harder, faster, fucking deeper. After all, if he’s going to hate-fuck you when you’re not even the point of his anger, if he’s not even going to kiss you, he better find a way to make it hurt more. 

Heeseung does come back to himself when he feels the slide though, loving that he can come home from his awful day and have you present yourself in such a way for him. He loves you more than anything, for so many fucking reasons that don’t include that, but still. This is what you do for him, and it brings his softness back tenfold as he reaches out for your face, eyes softening for you in concern. 

Fuck, he swears he learns something new about you every day too. After all the years the two of you have been together, he’s shocked when you turn your face away from him. He’s a bit defeated at the act, partially wondering if he’s really pushed it too far in terms of using you. It’s not often he doesn’t at least give you some praise as he does this, but really, he was so, so upset. His brain just….he needed this before saying anything. 

And so, at that motion of you turning your face away from him and his softer hands, he only slams his hips harder. He tips himself back a bit now, using one hand to tug at your clit as if it’s a form of retaliation from your rejection.

It would be retaliation anyway, but Heeseung knows well enough how much you love to hurt. You love when he tugs and pinches against your pretty, swollen clit. The sharp pains always make you cry in a way that fucks your brain up. As if you don’t know whether to plead for him to stop or to ask for more. 

Still, he’s frustrated that you won’t let him love on you now that he’s grounded himself a bit. His whole fucking day has been a disaster, and now you’re pulling away? Not making eye contact? Not letting him kiss you?

“Baby, look at me.” He says, now nearly demanding that you do as he says. 

And, of course, you do. 

“You want it to hurt more?” He continues when you still shift your eyes away from him, but he’s a bit amused in the way you nod to him. So out of it for him that he feels almost silly for being upset at you in the first place. 

“Yeah?” He nods with a half chuckle, slowing his hips but now driving in with intent and harsh plunges. “Just like that?” 

You yelp as you urge him with a nod, loving the sear and feeling of your boyfriend tearing you open. And while you know he’s being rough, he’s not quite giving you his all now that he’s softened up.

You want him to give it his ass by this point now, if the sound of your pussy is anything to go by. You want him to fucking hurt you, to the point you can’t moan, to the point you can’t breathe. 

“More,” You manage to get out for him in another yelped whimper. “You’re being soft.”

“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation with his hand reaching for you cheek again, burying his leaking cock in so deep, so painfully deep. “Look at me.”

You do, showing him your blown out pupils and mess of hair on top of you head. You nod frantically, wanting him to push further than he ever has. Wondering if he’ll ever surpass his own limit for you. 

It goes like this for a while longer than usual. More pain, more pleasure, and your heart rate higher than you thought possible. 

He’s using you so well and you couldn’t be more proud to be this for him. An outlet, his girlfriend, his sex doll. And fuck, he bites, he bruises, he drags his hips so painfully into you that you feel like you genuinely could be split in half at any moment if he truly wanted to. 

So full, you can feel it so deeply inside of you that all you can do is cry.

You lose yourself to that feeling, basking in the sensation of your walls clenching every inch of him and moaning out with each second that passes. To the point your throat is sore and your eyes are swollen from the tears. 

He pulls against your hair now, holding his hips in place and burying himself just as deep as before inside of you. Instantly, you see tunnel vision now. Like you could burst, both physically and emotionally, all for him. 

Him, him, him. 

And he only holds himself like that to the point that you can feel your cervix bruise. He only pushes harder now, trying to inch in more of his cock despite having no more to give. He lifts your leg over his shoulder just to get a different angle at the failure, only to find a way to make you feel him deeper than you thought was possible. 

God, it hurts so good and he loves it. Your pained face paired with the image of your pussy taking the entirety of him. You’re everything to him. 

And now? His grunts are that of focus rather than pleasure. He wants to ruin you, he is trying to ruin you to the fucking core just to see if you’ll unravel in a new sort of way. 

It’s the fact that he’s talking to you through it too. You can’t make out a single word though, tunnel vision is tunnel hearing, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his cock bruising the deepest part of you. Being torn apart by the man you love is…something you’ll never forget. 

And when you do manage to catch a smirk on his face before his hips start sliding back and forth again, you realize he loves this as much as you do. Of course he does, who wouldn’t love a girl willing to let her man surpass his own limits? 

Out of respect, no less. 

“Are you with me?” His voice echoes through your eyes, and while he’s fully aware that you’re absolutely fucking gone with the way he’s fucking you right now, he takes your distant nod as confirmation. 

Despite how far aware he seems in your head, you know that every sensation your body is feeling right now is because of him. You can’t help the quivering. The uncontrollable shaking.

It feels so good, to the point you are nearly numb to everything else around you. The swollen feeling of your body being abused is too, too fucking good. You can’t even comprehend that he’s kissing against your slack mouth, but you do your best to kiss him back. 

Goddamn does he love the way you drool all over yourself and him. Good. Fucking good girl. 

“Try again,” He chuckles against your tongue, waiting, just to see if you can manage to kiss him properly. Though he suspects you’re completely lost in your head right now. 

After all, he’s giving you exactly what you asked for. 

And all you can do in return is blink up at him with a dazed smile. Your body is moving up with each of his thrusts just to make it that much more painful, and his lips continue to lay against yours. He’s truly waiting for you to kiss him back like you have the ability to do it. Like you can truly think of anything else rather than what he’s doing between your legs. 

Hah. 

“You’re so gone, baby.” He smiles in a breath at your failure to do anything more than leave your mouth open for him. He’s fucking floored by how much you love this, and how you truly embrace the inability to think at this moment. “You’re loving this, hm?”

You can’t even not for him this time, feeling pangs of pain and pleasure shoot through your body with each sharp thrust. 

“Try again, pretty girl.” He encourages you when he licks against your bottom lip again, gripping your hair with his other hand and craning your neck back. 

”You can do it, come on.” He adds, biting against your neck and licking the mark. 

You once again, can’t even try, because he accentuates each word with a drag of his pulsing cock and a sharp pressure against your clit with his abdomen. So, you stop trying, falling into the depths of the sensations and allowing yourself to lose your grasp on reality entirely. 

Fucking hell, he loves it. The way you come undone, the way your entire body goes clack before shaking uncontrollably with a wet spurt of your pussy trying to push him out. He can feel you clench around him, your body acting on instinct to push, push, push, the pleasure out and all over him. 

He has to hold back his own impressed moan at the way he stays buried into you as you squirt around him with that pretty, pained look on your face. 

“Fuck, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts out, slowing his pace to feel you clench around him fully, enough to where he needs to brace himself to pull out slightly just to shove his cock right back into that quivering mess. “So out of it too, god–” He moans now, leaning back just to look down fully. Noting how you’ve left a mess all over him. 

And you still continue to quiver, your pussy still clenches and grips him. All the way until you’re slack, still clenching, and he’s now pumping his cum into you with such a relieved moan that it almost brings you back to reality. 

By the time he’s done shaking on top of you, out of breath, and pulling out, your ears are ringing save for his soft voice. 

“Baby?” You hear him say as he dips down beside your head. “I got you.” 

You manage to nod to him and smile in a drunken kind of daze as he lifts you from the bed for the proper clean up from a boyfriend who very much loves you. 

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours

[my-castles-crumbling]

Disgusting

An anonymous request

"People like Reg a lot more now that you two are shagging."

The comment had been said so casually by Barty a few days ago, and yet it hadn't left James's brain since.

In the logical part of his brain, he knew it wasn't a thing. Regulus wouldn't just date him for his reputation.....

Right?

And James had always had the reputation of being so confident, so together, so self-assured, that asking felt like...weakness. Like admitting there might be some reason Regulus shouldn't like him.

So he kept quiet.

But of course, he wasn't really known for being quiet, either, so it only took Regulus a few days to recognize something was wrong.

"Potter," he sighed softly as they sat squished together in a single chair in the library. "You aren't giving me a headache. Why? Did Sirius tell you his Transfiguration is better again, because you know that's a load of shit."

Sighing, James shook his head. "No....it's just...do you like me, Reg? Like properly?" He hated himself for asking. But he had to know.

But Regulus's look of revulsion didn't help him feel any better. At least until the younger boy snapped his book shut and looked up at him. "James. I like you so much it's disgusting."

And he couldn't help but grin at that. "I-yeah? Really?"

Regulus rolled his eyes. "How could you think otherwise? I literally am sharing my favorite armchair with you. You should be honored."

But even though he knew Regulus was poking fun, James grinned and said sincerely. "I am."

#marauders #marauders era #harry potter #fanfic #marauders fandom #harry potter marauders #the marauders #the marauders era #marauder era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #the marauders fandom #james fleamont potter #james potter #james x regulus #james potter x regulus black #james potter and sirius black #james and regulus #regulus arcturus black #regulus black #regulus deserved better #james loves regulus #regulus black x james potter #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus #jegulus microfic #starchaser #sunseeker

[solar-wing]

⚣ Dick Grayson: NSFW Alphabet 🔵

⚣🔵 Words → 3.5k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙

⚣ ENJOY 🔵

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Caring and attentive. In other words, cling as hell.

It’s amazing how someone who was just fucking you like an absolute slut could turn into the world’s most innocent and soft boy in existence. When you think about it, it’s actually a little bit disturbing as well.

But, I digress. Dick will absolutely pick you up and carry you into the shower or whatever you desire. He’s also perfectly fine with lying in the mess. He doesn’t care as long as he gets to cuddle you right after.

He will have an overwhelming smug attitude though, especially if the sex was preceded by an argument, disagreement, or the acrobat just wanted to teach you a lesson. He can be a little shit when he wants to be.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I feel like we all know the answer to this one.

Dick’s butt is praised so much, that you already know he puts extra time and care into making sure it stays nice, right, and tight. He not so secretly loves when you play with it as well, whether it’s a light slap or pressing up against him even though he’s always the top. Notable mentions: His chest, abs, and thighs.

If you assumed his favorite body part on you was your ass, you’d guess right. Congratulations! You win nothing except a hard and playful smack on said ass from the acrobat. You’re welcome! Honorable mentions: Your waist, thighs, and chest. His weakness is any kind of jiggle and he is not ashamed or afraid of getting caught staring.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He may not play basketball but he’s a shooter (kill me). He can pretty much cover you anywhere or reach your furthest depths inside (careful if it’s M-Preg or he’ll definitely be the father).

He’s equal with where he likes to cum. He likes to sum on your face, chest, and body just as much as he loves to shoot down your throat and inside your hole. And the filthy little acrobat will definitely lick your cum off his hand after stroking you to your own finish. Let’s be clear now, this man has no shame.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Dick’s got a body count. Not as high as Bruce’s maybe but it’s up there. He can play innocent all he wants, but that man can and will get down when he’s feeling it.

Which, speaking of, he has definitely used Nightwing to land him some ass. No, I will not be taking questions.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Again, he doesn’t exactly have the title of a playboy like his adoptive father, but Dick’s been around the block. So he definitely knows a thing or two when it comes to the down and dirty.

Even if you are experienced yourself, I can guarantee Dick knows some tricks you don’t know which will have you, well…let’s save that for the bedroom, shall we?

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Face down, ass up, and no that was not a suggestion. Dick absolutely favors any position where your ass is bouncing in his face. Doggy, reverse cowgirl, spooning, standing behind, anything.

He also loves a good 69 moment and enjoys the missionary positions where he can really put in some power while inside you. You on the bed and him standing, countertop, or a stand-carry.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

If you know Dick’s personality, while the boy can be an absolute menace in the bedroom, he’s still a goofball at heart. Also, known for his witty banter, you can expect some wild stuff to come out that man’s mouth while he’s cumming to yours (tee hee).

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dick is definitely well-groomed. He used to be a performer so he always took extreme care of his appearance. Keeps himself shaven and clean-cut, which definitely makes him appear bigger, as well as keeping those areas down there fresh and ready for any kind of play.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Dick is a romantic at heart. As much as he can be a little dominant shit in the bedroom, he’s always down for some soft love and intimate moments.

Candles, roses, food, massages with kisses down your body, maybe a little romantic dance before you get sweaty. You name it, Dick’s already thought of it and is thinking of more. Just as much as he wants to please you sexually, intimacy and romance never is off the table.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dick is probably the most sexually active just behind Bruce, so you can definitely imagine that boy is no stranger to an evening alone with just him and his hand. Just as much as he knows how to please others, he knows how to please himself.

He knows when he’s in the mood to drag it out and edge himself while imagining or watching some slow, soft dirty dancing, and he knows when he’s frustrated and just needs to rub one out to get the edge off a little bit. Again, you won’t find many things in that realm that Dick has not either already tried or even just learned about.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Role-Playing: Once again, I bring up the fact that Dick is a retired performer. You know he’s one for the dramatics and theatrics, especially when it comes to sex. Whether it’s Nightwing coming to the rescue of some helpless dude, or instead that same person being abducted and forced to serve Nightwing to earn his freedom, nothing is off the table. And yes, as I just implied, that included CNC (Consensual-Non-Consensual). He’d never push you too far (unless variable circumstances apply), but he’s down to play any role. He’s the cop and you’re the guilty criminal he’s just arrested. You’re his student and desperately need a passing grade to graduate.

BDSM: He’s not too much into the lifestyle, but he definitely dabbles. He likes certain aspects of it, specifically the bondage, Dom/Sub roles, and getting to inflict punishments (his favorite being spanking cause it means he gets to play with your ass more). This also helps a lot with this abducted, helpless victim role-play when he gets to pull out the cuffs, rope, blindfolds, gags, and whatever else he’s got lying around. And he’s not opposed to the roles being reversed.

Dirty Talk: The guy is all about using his words remember. Self-explanatory.

Public Play (Exhibitionism): Dick’s not a sex addict, but he might as well be one with the way that man will drop his pants without a second thought, no matter where he is. Of course, he’s not just going to outright start doing it in front of others, but the thrill of pulling you into a dark corner, alleyway, restroom and the risk of you getting caught will always get him excited. Double points if you actually do get caught, because again, this man has no shame.

Honorable Mentions: Edge Play (choking/breath play), Impact Play (sub of BDSM, spanking, paddling, etc), Wrestling, Daddy kink, Mirror Sex, etc.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As we just went over, public places really get Dick going. Especially if he’s out as Nightwing and wants to pull you into a random alley or bring you to some high-up rooftop, he will happily christen a surface that is not within the confines of his own house or private dwelling, and he won’t feel bad about it.

Other specific places?

The shower, any counter or table surface, the Batmobile, his motorbike, literally anywhere in his apartment, etc.

He really has no reservations about where he does it, as long as he can get up in you, he’s content.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

#1 – He’s a horny bastard: Again, he’s not a sex addict, but he sure has the sex drive of one. It doesn’t take much to get him turned on. A casual, suggestive sentence, the way your shorts are really highlighting your work in the gym, how you're sucking on the straw while sipping your drink, or even when you’re just standing or sitting doing nothing, that man will get hard and he will pounce on you.

#2 – Domestic Actions/Life: This is something I forgot to mention with Jason so I’ll mention it here because I’m definitely head-canoning that they both share this in common. Any kind of domestic act. You cook him dinner when he comes home or pack his lunch before he heads out for the day. Helping clean up his house or doing his laundry and folding his clothes. Running him a bath, washing his hair, giving him a massage after a hard day or night. Waiting up for him in bed after patrol and patting the space once he changes out of his uniform, laying down and letting him vent about anything on his mind while you rub his body or head. All of it and more will definitely have him up and ready for fun.

#3 – Jealousy: Now, you may think I mean when someone flirts with you and he gets all macho and protective, rah rah rah. Nope, not at all (unless we’re talking Alpha Dick in Omegaverse. Then, that’s different because, by the rule, it’s a part of his biology to be). Dick is actually quite casual and will find it humorous when someone tries to even think about flirting with you in hopes of stealing you away from him. He knows his worth, and even more, he knows how good his dick is. He’s not worried. But, when it’s the opposite, and someone flirts with him because again, this man is literally one of the most attractive beings probably in the entire world, he absolutely will be turned on at the sight of you staking your claim on him, chasing off any hag dared flirt with him in front of you.

Honorable Mentions: Arguing/Make-Up Sex, Clothing, exercising, any kind of physical touch.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Nothing that could involve serious injury or blood. Also, nothing even remotely unsanitary. I mean scat/throw-up/piss.

Also, he may be into very public displays of affection but do not get it twisted one bit. Dick is not into any type of sharing. He’s a sweetie at heart, but don’t piss him off with that ridiculous idea.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dick is the goat of throat. Yeah, I said it…what you gon do? Beat my ass or something?

Just kidding, but no seriously, this man has a reputation known among his sexual partners for the danger to society that is his mouth, and not when it’s giving off a witty/sarcastic remark. He’s been known to drive some people to the brink of insanity, metaphorically speaking of course. But, then again, you never know with these people.

He loves to receive head and loves to give it even more. Especially when he gets to play with your balls and deny your orgasm every time you reach the edge, the little bastard. Same can be said if he’s munching on that hole too, which he eagerly does cause the sight of it puckering and winking at him sends all the little happy flutters to his own groin.

Now, if we’re talking again about receiving, and you think you’re gonna have him putty in your hand like he does with you, think again. This man is the definition of a seasoned veteran. There’s only been one known time he’s ever gotten overwhelmed and came from just head, and that was when he was a teenager. If you’re hoping to do that now, you’d better have expert-level skills, cause he will test you. Facefucking, choking and gagging, and whatever else that comes to mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the mood.

High off adrenaline after an intense patrol or fight? Congratulations, you’re about to be his next victim. You got jealous and cussed out someone for trying to flirt with him? Prepare to learn a whole new meaning of getting rough sex. Wore some 3 in shorts to the gym AND did a leg day? Gon head and bend that ass over, you’re about to experience why he’s called ‘Dick’ rather than ‘Rich’ or something else for a nickname. Please cancel any plans you have for that evening or the next day cause you may not be able to walk, stand, or even move for that manner.

On the opposite side, did you take his Nightwing suit and hand wash it, making it look like the day he first put it on? Sweet lord, you’re a treasure and he’s about to show you why. It’s your anniversary and you got him one of the most beautiful and sentimental gifts? You and your body are about to be treated like an award that he is the sole recipient of. You cussed out Bruce after he did something stupid and reckless again involving Dick or one of the others? Not only is Jason blessing the ground you walk on, Dick’s about to drop down on one knee and propose, and then proceed to treat your body like a slut in the most romantic and sensual way you could ever imagine. As a precaution, still, go ahead and cancel any future plans just in case.

Dick truly has no preference other than whatever he’s feeling at the moment. Long, deep strokes, or quick, fast juts? Whatever gets the job done and reminds you there’s nobody better than him is good in his book.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Dick loves quickies. As chaotic and busy as his life is, he practically lives off them and craves them.

Again, this man should have his headshot in the dictionary next to ‘horny’ or promiscuous. Cause if it was up to him? He’d be screwing you once every 2 hours at least. Whether it’s a quick handjob he’s giving you, or he’s got both your pants down while rapidly fucking into you cause he’s only got five minutes before he has to get back, he’s doing it.

The man thinks they should be protected and enshrined into law. That’s how much he loves them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’ll try anything and everything under the sun and moon as long as it’s not one of his already-mentioned no-no’s. If it adds excitement to the routine, why not? You never know with that man.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Very adamant stamina. His plentiful experiences have shaped it, and his physical training and endurance have added to it.

That man can do multiple rounds in a night, ranging anywhere from 3-5, and maybe even more if just that kind of night. He also knows his body, and can/will do what he needs to do to drag one round out for as long as he can until not only is he satisfied himself, but he feels he’s adequately satisfied you. And to be clear, you have absolutely no say on whether he feels like he’s satisfied you or not.

So please, get used to the idea of being overstimulated and crying at the 3rd or 4th orgasm he gives you before he’s even had one. It’ll save you a lot of frustration (not really but you get what I mean).

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Dick, who again, will and has tried everything under the moon and sun. Of course, he has toys. What do you think this is? A playground? Please…

And trust, he’s going to get more. He’s probably signed up on a loyalty program with a sex store or website, and best believe he’s got diamond status.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A prayer for the innocent soul who unknowingly awakens the playful, petty, and vindictive part of Dick Grayson’s personality, especially when it comes to sex. May god, the universe, karma, whatever else have mercy on your soul and may the odds ever be in your favor.

There’s a reason I call Dick Grayson a little shit, bastard, fucker, and other various names because that is literally what he is, and I love him the more for it. He doesn’t get angry, upset, or even mad (unless it’s something serious). No, he gets petty, and that turns into him being the most teasing piece of shit in the bedroom, especially if you’ve challenged him in some kind of way.

Orgasm denial, forcing you to be quiet and stay still, sensory overload, multiple orgasms, and overstimulation; all this and he hasn’t even put his tongue on you yet, let alone his dick anywhere near you. That man is vindictive and will play on it until his heart’s content. Please, tread carefully when choosing whether or not you want to fuck with this man, especially if he’s in a mood.

Matter of fact, just run. Actually, don’t do that either. He likes the chase. FUCK! You’re screwed no matter what (metaphorically AND literally).

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Dick gets loud. And he wants you to get equally as loud with him.

He’s not afraid to let out the sluttiest sounds, from soft and quiet moans to loud and debauched shouts from the top of his lungs. He can be quiet if need be, but he’d rather not. He enjoys the idea of people knowing he’s getting lucky and, even more, the idea of people knowing you’re getting lucky from him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

That man has an obsession with doing it in his Nightwing suit. You think he picked that style and aesthetic for something as useless as flexibility, quick movement, and durability? Absolutely not. 

Dick absolutely knew what he was doing when he had his suit designed. He wanted to look like a slut and nothing more, and that's okay! I mean, come on, you think his ass looking that good in his uniform was a coincidence? A mistake? How innocent and naive of you.

Everyone should have known Dick’s true intentions when they saw how sinfully deep the cut was in his first suit that we all know and love as Discowing. That man fully intended for his suit to be something he could fuck up and fuck dudes in while looking hot. It was non-negotiable.

Look at him.

Like, I'm sorry, but what the hell do you mean I’m not supposed to be turned on and have my legs divorcing like a whore who's being prosecuted in a court of law due to adulterous behavior with this standing in front of me? Are you unwell?!?!?

Yeah, respectfully no. I will forever headcanon that Dick Grayson knew exactly what he was doing when he had his suits designed, and it was the complete opposite of what everyone was saying.

“Dick is quick and agile."

"He’s lightweight on his feet."

"He needs a suit that will support and accentuate his acrobatic skills.”

Absolutely not. That man is (respectfully in an empowering context) a slut, on the inside and out, and he wanted a suit that would best show it to the world. I will not be gaslit into believing otherwise.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

What Dick lacks in girth, he makes up for in length and skill. He’s definitely not thin, but he's a little under-average when it comes to thickness. Somewhere between 6-7 inches.

More than likely cut, and has a voluptuous head that’s perfect for sucking on and teasing.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

We’ve discussed this in great length, multiple times. It’s self-explanatory at this point. The man is basically the human equivalent of a rabbit or bunny.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dick can stay up long after the round has been up, especially if he’s in a mood where he wants to talk. Ironically, after fucking like some wild animals with the most questionable mindsets and morals, he loves to shoot the shit and have pillow talk after.

I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but Dick is basically a chatterbox and will ask you about your day, what you had for lunch, who pissed you off at work, and more while still buried inside of your ass with your dick pressed between both your stomachs. He’s also content with turning on the TV or whatever screen is available and watching a movie or something until you both fall asleep. Mind you, he’s probably still inside you and is going to try his best to stay inside even if he’s gone soft and keeps slipping out.

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

#solar-wing ☀️ #gay #dc #dcu #dcau #dc universe #dc comics #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x male reader #x reader #x male reader #male reader #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson fic #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing #nightwing imagine #nightwing fanfiction #nightwing smut #nightwing x reader #nightwing x male reader #nightwing fic #m!reader #☀️🪽.hcs #☀️🪽.dcposts

[noiryinn]

game over!

pairing(s): nagi seishiro x male reader

summary: when a game of fortnite leads to sex

warnings: amab!reader, top!reader, bottom!nagi, anal sex, crying, begging, riding, belly bulge, edging, overstimulation, reader is kinda mean, slut shaming, (minors + fem aligned dni, all characters aged up)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: first smut, enjoy! (kinda rushed and bad)

you were watching your boyfriend play his video games, as always. it annoyed you a bit, but you saw how happy he was playing them so you never said anything.

“hey, nagi?” you called out to him while laying on his bed. “yeah?” he replied, not even glancing away from his monitor. you really didn’t know what to say, you just called his name to he would pay some attention to you. your sex life has been kinda dry, so you just said the first thing that came to mind.

“if you win that game i’ll give you a blowjob,” you blurted out before quickly regretting it. you couldn’t take it back though, since he turned his head to look at you, “yeah?” nagi seemed to be challenging you. “and if i lose?” he asked. well, you didn’t think this far ahead so you just blurted something out again, “you have to ride me.”

honestly, it didn’t seem like a fair deal, but he took it anyway. “fine, deal.” you blinked in surprise, you never expected him to actually take it, knowing how much he hates doing the work himself. nagi was a pillow princess, there was no doubt. every time he laid there and looked pretty. a part of you really want this, maybe as pay back for the numerous amount of times he always payed attention to games and not you.

…

spoiler alert, he didn’t win the game.

…

“f-fuck! [name]!” the white haired boy whined in a pathetically high pitched voice. his eyes glossed over in pleasure as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. “please— ah…no- no more…” he begged. his moves were sloppy and uncoordinated, drool dribbled down his chin. his face was puffy and it was clear as day that he was wildly embarrassed.

“oh, seishiro…you’re getting sloppy, don’t tell me this is your limit? poor baby, is it nap time already?” you mocked him lightly. you couldn’t help laugh how he became such a overstimulated mess in just a few minutes. a small frown played on his face, “i’m not— agh…done yet!” nagi managed to slip out. “good. then prove it.” you condescendingly smirked at him, now it was your turn to sit and enjoy the show.

you fully took in the sight of your boyfriend. his ears and face flushed a mad red. he looked like he was nearing his limit, but didn’t want to admit it yet. the room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping and moans. you loved the sound of squelching when he sank onto your dick. there was even a outline of where it was on his stomach.

with a huff, he messily picked up his pace, drooling all over himself as he made pitiful attempts to keep up the pace. “is that all you can do?” you sneered, “shut up! i can— ngh…do more!” he made a weak jab to insult you back, but really he could barely think at all.

nagi was so perfect. the way he handled your dick, moaned, his facial expressions, you loved it. his pride made him refuse to admit that he was at his breaking point. you wanted to toy with him a bit, so you put your hands on either side of his hips and pushed him down onto your dick. his toes curled and his back arched in the most erotic way possible as he let out a lewd moan.

nagi’s head threw back and he tried to cover his mouth to stifle his moan when your dick hit his prostate in just the right area. you could feel his cute little hole clench around you. he was swearing up a storm under his breath, breathless ‘fucks’ and ‘shit’ rolled out his mouth as he kept babbling.

“i wanna…come ughh— please” he whined and begged as warm tears of pleasure rolling down his cheeks. “awh, already? but i was just starting to have some fun…” you pouted, “but hold it in, will ya?” you asked him. “i can’t, mnghh…[name] you’re being mean!” he said weakly. “you can’t what? use your words…” you looked at him in his eyes.

he stared at you back with that same frown on his face, it looked like he was choking back words. you waited for him to speak, wondering what he had to say. “i can’t…ride you anymore— ah!” you slammed him down on your dick again, “you’re too big…nghh…” nagi kept rambling on, “you’re— so mean…just fuck me already…please…?” he gave you a pleading look and you sighed. “looks like poor baby can’t ride me anymore. don’t worry, i’ll take it from here” you teased him one last time before switching the position you two were in.

nagi laid on the bed, his face having a fucked out expression, both of his legs wrapped around your waist. you barely gave him a moment to recollect his thoughts when you sharply thrusted into him, knocking the wind out of nagi’s lungs. you pounded deeply into his hole. the sound of his moans sounding almost pornographic.

nagi could barely think, let alone form words. all he could do was just lay there and moan. “you are such a whore for dick, seishiro.” you smirked, he made a desperate attempt to shake his head no, but he was too fucked out to actually do anything. “what a little slut, bet you lost that game on purpose huh?” you whispered in his ear. his only response was a little whimper.

you were surprised when nagi tightened his legs around you, rutting against you for any sort of friction, for you to go deeper. you smiled at this and leaned in to kiss him deeply. he lazily wrapped his arms around your neck. when you two let go to breathe, he whispered something softly in your ear, “mm…[name] i love you…so please, don’t go easy on me, okay…?” in that moment, what kept you from holding back (barely anything), just shattered in that moment.

…

“[name]~ my back hurts” nagi grumbled. you chuckled softly at that, “you were the one who wanted me to go hard, seishiro. don’t make a fuss.” he just responded with a petulant look. you two were on the bed looking at each other, sweaty and breathless. even when nagi was a mess he was beautiful. “you were being mean too…” he complained. “sorry, i couldn’t help it when you were being such a brat…” you remarked.

“ugh…that was such a hassle…i don’t know why we did it…” nagi mumbled while sinking into the bed. “you agreed to the bet!” you groaned, rolling your eyes at his complaint. for an athlete, he was sure unmotivated. “can you wash me? i feel gross…” he asked with puppy-dog eyes. it wasn’t unusual for him to ask you to do things like that. “okay, okay. i’ll carry you.” you sighed, unable to resist his adorable look. though it was a bit of work, you didn't mind doing it for nagi.

#bllk #bllk x male reader #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #blue lock #blue lock x male reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #x male y/n #x male reader #nagi seishiro x male reader #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro #bllk nagi #sub nagi seishiro #sub blue lock #smut #bllk smut #x male smut #x male top reader #male reader #x reader #top male reader #amab reader #x top male reader #this was rushed

[sh0tanzz]

I wish you would do a full post dedicated to toxicity or angsty shortcomings in relationships with the boys 🫠 I loved reading the toxic head canons ❤️

angst hurts my heart but !!

RIIZE RED FLAGS based on astrology~

hyung line edition ❗️

reminder this is based off of MY opinions of their birth chart placements + aspects and is not exact fact unless I knew them myself and I am not a professional astrologer

Shotaro

Vague - not exactly a red flag but he cares a lot about the things going on within his personal life but sometimes he might prefer to keep things to himself due to paranoia of how his s/o will react or if they’d use it against him..he might have a fear of betrayal that can make him be pretty vague and unable to tell his s/o a lot of things in regards to him which can feel secretive to someone who wants a relationship with open info

Intense - His Scorpio moon paired with his Cap venus leads to a need for loyalty as well as his moon/mercury aspect making him very observant of your words and even remembering things you said a longgg time ago which can be overwhelming and feel even persecuting to some. He might also be paranoid in the relationship of cheating or disloyalty.

Coldness- When he's upset he might have a tendency to be cold yet indirect. He has a scorpio mercury and when upset or protecting themselves they can say things that really hurt or could be pretty cutting. He also has a libra mars so he'd be pretty passive aggressive or indirect with his upset.

Eunseok

Nonchalant- (reminder that nonchalant means that a person cares but acts in a way that suggests indifference/disinterest) He can sometimes be too nonchalant and can make someone overall feel as though he has no passion in the relationship when really he does but just doesn't think you have to be lovey dovey 24/7 or he cant express his passion super well as times

Outburst- Eunseok has a cap moon and moon/saturn aspects paired with a mutable mars so he doesn't express his emotions well or bottles them up which can lead to him getting triggered at random and having a spontaneous outburst out of NOWHEREEE due to suppressed feelings which can be super problematic to some

Insensitive- it’s not on purpose or with malicious intent but Eunseok can sometimes not realize that though a situation isn’t a big deal to him to someone else it might be, he also can forget the more subjective side of things which can accidentally hurt peoples feelings

Sungchan

Sensitive - His pride is high and his reaction to things may be 3x more dramatic than the actual event that happened. When he's been hurt emotionally (whether it was intentional or not) he has a hard time letting go of what happened and might even give a silent treatment until he feels you've shown remorse.

Insecure - He cares a lot about what other people think of him and that can bleed into his relationships. He might act one way in public but another way in private which can make his words/actions seem insincere or disingenuous.

Internal struggles- Has a hard time balancing his feminine side and masculine side and what I mean is he is someone super emotional and feels his emotions very deeply but might try to cover that side of him up with a masculine facade which can bring tension.

Wonbin

Avoidance - He might refuse to acknowledge the red flags or obvious shortcomings/problems in the relationship or himself and may take a long time fully accepting or facing these problems as they are or has a weak approach in attempting to fix or acknowledge the problems. Idealizes a lot of aspects and tends to withdrawal when things don’t match his vision.

Procrastination- Once again, has a hard time facing things head on and takes a while to put action into something and avoids the messier more negative emotions that one must face in relationships; he could also take a long time to let the relationship reach the next more serious levels.

Stubborn- It's hard to change his mind about certain things..in arguments he'll try to pull a "lets agree to disagree" but it's a topic where you both need to be on the same page. He might even just straight up go mute in arguments if he doesn't feel like his opinion was valued enough.

#sh0tanzz #riize #kpop astrology #riize shotaro #riize sungchan #riize eunseok #riize wonbin #riizenet #riize fluff #riize imagines #riize reactions #riize headcanons #riize scenarios #riize x reader #riize x imagine #riize soft hours #riize soft thoughts #riize angst #eunseok x reader #riize shotaro x reader #sungchan x reader #wonbin x reader #jung sungchan #osaki shotaro #song eunseok #park wonbin #briize #riize is 7 #riize reading #riize smau

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Hiiiii! So, I'm Arab and I was wondering is you could do a y/n x Mattheo riddle(cuz y/n is so badass) where they're fighting about the girls that go to Mattheo. y/n goes into Arabic and mattheo goes hard and then. . . you can determine what you want to do with it. BTW I LOVE UUUUU

ps can u make them in a secret relationship?

I LOVE UUUUU TOO AAAA THANK YOU! Sorry this took so long!

All Yours

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: Oral(female receiving), fingering, unprotected sec, cream pie, cussing.

18+ Minors DNI!

There he was again. Your secret boyfriend. Mattheo Riddle. Surrounded by girls at one of the Slytherin parties. There were quite a few reasons to keep your relationship secret. His father. Your parents. His friends. Even your friends. He didn’t want you to be used against him as a weakness either.

Whatever the reasons, you were still fuming about how he spoke with the girls. Granted, he never did touch them or reciprocate their flirtations. But he didn’t push them away either or reject them outright.

He spotted you across the room, locking eyes with you and giving you his wicked smile that normally made you melt. When he got met with your crossed arms and eye roll, he knew you were mad and the smile dropped.

He was able to get away from the girls, redirecting them to his friends before he slipped away. He was pulling you away from everyone, skirting around the party to avoid anyone’s attention as he pulled you up to his dorm.

He closed the door behind you two before speaking. “Alright. What’s wrong, sweet girl?”

“Don’t call me that.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest again.

He sighed. “Fine. What’s wrong?”

You weren’t sure what to say, trying to figure out how to phrase it. You weren’t exactly prepared for this confrontation.

“Is it the girls?” He asked, stepping closer.

“Of course it is!” You nearly yelled. How can he be so stupid?

“Come on, princess. You know I can’t do anything about it.” He tried speaking softly as he touched your arm.

All that did though was piss you off even more. You pulled your arm from him and started yelling. “Yes, you can! You can tell them to back off! You can tell them you’re not interested!”

“I can’t do that. It’ll be suspicious. I don’t want people catching on that I have a girlfriend.” He said, keeping his voice calm.

You knew what he meant. He meant he didn’t want people to find out so they can use you against him or harm you. But you were mad, so of course the words were falling from your mouth faster than you were even thinking. “Oh, it’s so bad to have a girlfriend now? I’m that embarrassing to you?”

“No-” He tried interjecting, but you cut him off.

You were slipping into Arabic without even realizing it. You were just yelling and he was staring at you, stunned. It was the first time he’d heard you speak Arabic, let alone yelling it.

You stopped yelling after a few moments, looking at him to respond. “What?”

“That was so hot.” He said and his mouth was on yours.

The anger that you had was turning into desire for him as you guided you two towards the bed, lips pressed together still as you took off what clothes you could without breaking the kiss. He pushed you back onto the bed once you reached it and helped you out of your clothes, wasting no time to sink between your thighs and start licking and sucking like a starved man.

“Keep going. Talk to me.” He said, pushing two fingers inside you.

It took you a moment to start talking, rambling something about how good it feels and whatever else came to mind. It’s not like he knew what you were saying anyways.

“Fucking hot.” He groaned before licking at your clit again.

You kept your rambling, only breaking with moans and whimpers. His name falling from your mouth every few sentences as he was desperately trying to make you fall apart on his tongue and fingers.

“That’s fucking it. You gonna cum, princess? I wanna see you cum on my fingers. Look so pretty screaming my name.” He said, staring up at you between your legs.

You couldn’t deny him what he was craving, nearly begging for. You were falling apart for him only moments later, tugging his hair, trembling, crying out his name.

He flipped you over after riding out your orgasm, gripping your hips to pull back towards him. He slowly eased the head of his dick in, groaning as you moaned.

“You’re fucking hot when you’re mad.” He said with a slight struggle as he kept pushing inside you.

“My yelling turns you on?” You asked, gripping at the sheets.

“More than it should, probably.” He started thrusting, no longer being gentle, he gripped your hips with bruising force and fucking you fast and deep. “You can keep going if you’d like. Or would you rather scream my name?” He asked, leaning over to grab your hair, lifting your head from the bed.

“Fuck, Mattheo! I-fuck!” You cried out, finding it difficult to think with his cock hitting so deep inside you.

“Guess that’s my answer, huh?” He teased.

“Shut up!” You tried for an irritated tone, but it was hardly even halfhearted.

“Oh, but you love when I talk to you like this. Can feel how wet you get, love.” He leaned down so his chest was pressing against your back. 

He was fucking into you so deep, he moved his hand from your hair to rub at your clit, making you whimper from how sensitive it was.

“Maybe you just needed to be reminded that I’m all yours in another way to get rid of that anger, hm?” He mused, pressing kisses along your upper back. “Fucking clenching me, princess, you gonna cum again already?”

All you could do was nod in response, your voice occupied with moaning and crying out with his thrusts.

“That’s it. Be a good girl then and cum for me.” He said softly. “Cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

And you were trembling again, crying out his name and you gripped at the sheets.

He cursed as he came from the feeling of your pussy trying to milk him, filling you with his cum.

“I’m all yours, sweet girl. You’re all mine, too.” He said reassuringly as he pressed kisses where he could reach as your body relaxed.

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

hiiiii i'm here to give you a big hug and request a 1k prompt 🙌

1. a biiiiiig hug

2. as for the (hehe smutty) prompt!

i think i would LOVE to see ed feeling vulnerable and safe enough to share with stede that a lot of things don't work for him in bed because of his knee and at first he is cautious and worries stede will get angry or frustrated with him, but of course stede showers him with love and care and thinks of a hundred ways to have sex that are not painful or uncomfortable for him 🫶

Ooh I really loved this one, thanks so much for sending it in (and sending you a hug right back)! Get absolutely adored and cherished Ed!!

Under the cut since this one's a bit nsfw! I'd put it at a strong M rating, no explicit sexual content but obviously it's about sex.

Ed had never really owned up to how fucking inconvenient the knee could make things, not before.

See, there are certain things that are mood- killers, and then there are things that are straight-up dangerous to admit, and Ed’s little problem was both. The hookups Ed was used to wouldn’t just laugh at him for being in pain during sex, they would’ve taken it as a sign of weakness. A sign that Ed was vulnerable, weak, easy to exploit and to harm. 

So, usually, he just put up with it. If it was awful, like if a guy pushed his legs back, forcing the knee to bend at a harsh angle, he might find some excuse to change it up, but usually he just closed his eyes and hoped his grunts of discomfort sounded pleasured instead of pained. He would close his eyes, after, breathing through the pain, vowing that he’d never have sex in a painful position again for the rest of his life, cautiously listening to make sure whatever guy he’d taken to bed wasn’t trying to pull any shit. Rinse and repeat a few weeks later.

Stede, though. Talk about a hell of a difference.

He’d figured out that Ed didn’t like some things, Ed thought. He never held down Ed’s bad leg, never forced the knee to bend. Rubbed the joint so tenderly after sex. And that maybe should’ve made it easier to admit to his problem, but Stede made Ed feel so good, and he wanted to return the favor, and…

“Ed, honey, you’re somewhere else tonight.”

Ed sniffed, shifted. They’d been breaking in their new bed (still called it that, even though they’d been breaking it in for a couple months now), and he was half in Stede’s lap, legs flung across Stede’s thighs. He should’ve felt perfect.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and when Stede’s light, appraising touches traveled down his leg, rubbing lightly at his knee, he hissed, the pain making him flinch involuntarily.

Stede kissed his fingertips, then touched them feather-light to Ed’s knee. “Does it hurt?”

“Just stiff,” Ed said dismissively.

Stede just hummed. Ed knew he wouldn’t force the issue.

“I, uh…” Ed cleared his throat. “What would you say if I said I didn’t think I should ride you anymore?”

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the anger on Stede’s face -

“I’d say that was fine,” Stede said easily. “Why? Does it make your knee hurt when we do that?”

“Maybe a little,” Ed admitted softly.

“Okay,” Stede said, and he positioned his hands around Ed’s knee, rubbing his thumbs gently along the sore, tender joint, working out the stiffness of exertion. Ed hissed, his face scrunching up at the sensation, and Stede just cooed soft apologies.

That was - that was it, though, wasn’t it? Ed knew he was safe to let Stede see him in pain. Stede hadn’t ever gotten angry or frustrated with him for being in pain or needing help with his knee before, why would this be any different?

“Um,” Ed started haltingly, “I actually think maybe we might need to be a little more careful. During intercourse. With my knee. If that sounds alright to you. Maybe.”

When he opened his eyes, Stede was getting that pinched line between his eyebrows.

“Ed?” Stede pulled Ed a bit more securely into his arms, and Ed sighed in satisfaction at the feeling of Stede’s arms around his waist. “Have you been hurting? While we have sex? Have I been hurting you?”

“Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, I’m just…” Stede let his breath out in a long sigh. “I don’t want to ever do anything that hurts you. Not ever. Especially not when we’re trying to do something that’ll make us both feel good. How can I help keep you comfortable?”

“Well…” Ed grimaced. “Bending my knee is what hurts the most.”

“Alright,” Stede said thoughtfully, and Ed could see the wheels turning in his head. Taking out positions that required Ed to bend his knee took so much off the table. Riding, giving blowjobs, even fucking missionary, and Ed was a bit terrified he’d just ruined their sex life.

Clearly, he’d underestimated Stede Bonnet’s creativity. 

Ed should’ve known he was in for a treat when he caught Stede woodworking in the backyard and was given a full presentation about all the features of the “blowjob stool” he was building, a seat designed to cushion and support Ed’s knee while putting him at perfect dick-sucking height. 

Stede was endlessly thoughtful when adapting positions they already liked, too. Ed liked being taken from behind; they discovered that a pillow under his hips kept him comfortable and allowed him to keep his legs straight. When Ed missed looking into Stede’s eyes during sex, they experimented with variously supporting his knee with pillows or propping his ankle on Stede’s shoulder. Spooning, bent over a desk, the good ol’ 69… not all of Stede’s ideas or little inventions worked, but the ideas he had for supports to keep Ed comfortable meant it was the best sex Ed had ever had, full stop. It was really damn nice to be able to enjoy himself without worrying about being in pain.

The best parts, though, weren’t just the sex itself.

They’d found that Ed’s knee was least painful when his muscles were relaxed and when he was feeling good, so they often had a warm bath first. It was fun foreplay, and relaxing together while Stede rubbed tiger balm into the joint in the afterglow was the perfect way to snuggle and talk about what they’d enjoyed.

“I’m glad I told you,” Ed whispered one night, tracing their initials over Stede’s heart as they cuddled, Ed’s bad leg slung over Stede’s hip to keep it propped up.

“Me, too,” Stede said, kissing Ed’s cheek.

Ed was learning, still, that he’d never have to just put up with pain again. And it was soft, soft, as smooth and sweet as honey.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics #always accepting prompts for 1k fics! Don't be shy!

[pandorasfavorite]

Maneater Part 3

AN: yall its finals week so its gonna be hard to post for a bit

You should've made him beg longer, but Dominik was getting ahold of you. No matter how hard you tried to stay away from him; he only drew you in further. So you joined the Judgement Day after weeks of him asking and pleading with you. The final blow was Dominik sinking to his knees with his wide eyes, begging you to join him.

Though now you had to cope with other people telling you what to do for the group. That is what you would hate most; you are independent and no one is supposed to hold any power over you. A man most of all, but Dominik is climbing that ladder quickly. So as you both are walking down the hallway you once again remind yourself to not let him win so easily; in other words, 'don't let Dominik get too close'. You were stuck in your own head; unintentionally ignoring Dominik, but you guessed that played to your advantage anyway because he was huffing and annoyed at your silence.

His fingers just barely brush over yours and you stop walking to look at him. Your look is so intense and fiery, Dominik all of a sudden felt stuck in his spot just barely choking out a feeble, "You look good". You feel your lips twitch into a smile, but any other time you wouldn't be impressed with the weak compliment. "That's all you had to tell me?", you put a hand on your hip while giving him that unimpressed look he has grown to hate. Nonetheless, he smiles and looks down at you; quick to give you a witty comeback, "You wouldn't want to hear everything I'm thinking" he looks you up and down. You scrunch your nose in distaste at his admission...you could listen to him talk for hours.

You shove a finger into his chest and you look up at him angrily, "Making decisions for me already?". He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and tries to not make his racing heart rate obvious, "You'd hate that wouldn't you?". You grab his face to pull him down closer to you; wanting to look him in the eye, "More than anything baby". You had let go of him but he still hovered near. Dominik's face went up in flames but he wiped a hand down his mouth and stopped before you could see the smile. He tried to play it cool and give you a serious look; you blew him a kiss. He dropped the straight face and smiled, a laugh fell from his mouth all the same.

"Alright, love birds keep moving!" someone you didn't care to look at yelled at you both. You shrugged and moved on; walking forward with Dominik a step behind you. The Judgement Day walked out towards the ring. You stood behind Dominik with a hood covering your face, with new all-black and purple gear on for the occasion. You heard the boom of questions in the crowd, most people guessing wrong, but the loyal fans knew it was you by the shiny black and pink high boots. Though getting in the ring was the best, Dominik stood an inch behind you; just barely brushing against you.

And when the spotlights were on you, you finally felt the feeling of power. Dominik took off your hood and the screams of fans could be heard from miles away from the stadium. Spotlights were directly on you just like everyone's attention, you know you looked good the cheers only made it better. You felt as if you were on the highest pedestal. As if Dominik could feel the pride radiating off of you, he rested his chin on the side of your shoulder from behind you. "You like that Hermosa?', he whispered just for you to hear, his breath feeling like ice on your skin. "More than anything baby", you said again and Dominik's smile against your skin was the most memorable moment of the night. Well apart from being the main pin point of everyone's attention.

After your 3 minutes of fame, a bitch had to ruin it; like bitches do. Santo Escobar's group came out to congratulate The Judgement Day for whatever reason, to you it seemed like something way different. But what really pissed you off was that Elektra Lopez skipped over you and went straight over to Dominik, laying a hand on his chest and giving him a cheesy smile. Dominik just watched her, but his eyes flickered over to your angry ones. One thing a maneater is would be possessive. Not a great trait but one you have, either way, Dominik was your's the moment he got on his knees and begged for you. Your hands shook and a smile graced your face at the violent thought. You stormed over to her Dominik's eyes shot open like you were going to murder him instead.

You grabbed Elektra by the back of her gear, and she started to put her hands behind her back to stop you. You didn't hit her but you slung her back, her ass hit the floor and she looked up at you with shock. "Touch him again I dare you bitch", you put your hands down on your knees and got down on her level. She flipped her hair dramatically, "I didn't know". You shrugged and flipped your hair more obnoxiously, "Now you do". You walked towards Dominik and grabbed him by the collar of his black gear. Finn was sitting on the ropes already knowing you were going to drag Dominik away. You pull Dominik with you and you both go under the ropes and backstage.

#dominik mysterio fanfiction #dominik mysterio x you #dominik mysterio fluff #dom dom #dominik my bbg #dominik mysterio x reader #wwe #dominik mysterio

[mishy-mashy]

I said this in a whole reblog, but just copy-pasting to a separate post because I think it'll give some reading comprehension and reblogs don't show up in the search feature.. again, I'm reiterating what I said in another post.

Go check out @demidokuriya 's post for this; OP's post made me put this all down in like. 20 minutes. Mind went vroom vroom cuz HEY THEY'RE ONTO SOMETHING.

(They also reblogged the post with some hint to some behind the scenes of what led to the ideas if you wanna check that out)

Look below at how, when Mineta told AFO to spare Tokoyami, AFO specifically went "..."

He remembers Jirou and thinks, The braying howls of the weak...

He was going to take Tokoyami's Quirk. He took Hawks'. But after Mineta pleaded with him, AFO just straight-up left and didn't take anyone else's Quirk.

AFO saw Yoichi in Mineta.

These scenes are near-identical to each other.

Mineta and Yoichi (at that time) are both much smaller than the normal person at their age

They're both hurt, yet dragged themselves up from the ground to throw something at AFO, to get his attention and make their voice

Both are considered weak, even if they have a Quirk (Mineta's Pop-Off and Yoichi's undeveloped Factor)

The fact that Yoichi got AFO's attention here by throwing a can at him, while Mineta got his attention by throwing a Pop-Off ball; and it stuck.

Mineta's call for his attention landed and actually stuck to AFO. This is unlike when Yoichi and his can bounced off, and AFO kicked him, not listening to him; AFO listened to Mineta and left Tokoyami alone, technically doing what Mineta wanted—to not hurt this person.

AFO just went on to hurt more people away from Mineta's [Yoichi's] eyes so the small weakling wouldn't see.

Yoichi and Mineta both cried to AFO to not hurt in his ways, when AFO was intent on stealing people's Quirks

AFO even stole Hawks' Quirk during this time.

He had time to steal Hawks' Quirk, and though he could've tossed him to the side, he let Hawks stand in his way.

He had the energy. Right after this event, he flew off and left the scene. But he didn't go for Tokoyami immediately.

And this let Mineta play his part, and remind AFO of Yoichi.

"A putrid, festering Quirk Factor."

That sounds like Yoichi, AFO.

".. such garbage."

Hey hey hey, what did Yoichi throw at him when they were kids?

A discarded can. Garbage.

This chapter (385) where AFO listens to Mineta is literally called [A Youthful Urge].

Mineta told AFO to take his Pop-Off (hurt him) instead. But last time, AFO hurt Yoichi by kicking him; this time, AFO not only listened to Mineta to not hurt Tokoyami, but didn't touch Mineta at all.

Even though this time, Mineta [Yoichi] offered to take that place of suffering.

Yoichi didn't do that back then. AFO just turned on little Yoichi anyway.

Yoichi through his whole existence is literally [the braying howls of the weak]. AFO acknowledges he's weak and idealistic, yet he still loves him.

Side note about this panel, I think it's interesting that in this vision, this was the first time we saw Yoichi's eyes: when he was being defiant, despite being pushed down by someone much stronger than him.

Really characteristic of him, honestly. Yoichi's soft-spoken and frail, but it's always reiterated that Yoichi had a powerful will against his stronger big brother.

Mineta at this moment reminded him too much of Yoichi, because the two scenes are near-identical to each other. Parallels, really.

Reiterating something from OP's post that I reblogged this from;

"The reminder of his brother made him uncomfortable, so he hurried away."

AFO didn't want to hurt Yoichi again.

#i really dont mean to steal the post from op this fandoms reading comprehension just bothers me #cuz i see too many takes being that horikoshi is an IDIOT who DOESNT KNOW WHAT HES DOING and RUINED A GREAT STORY #and this should only be FEEL-GOOD- #ahahahaha NO. #horikoshi is a genius and him labeling the manga as shounen attributes to a worse-level-of-understanding from the audience #reblog #technically #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yoichi shigaraki #minoru mineta #afo #all for one #ofa #one for all #spoilers #the reason i started posting bnha stuff was to add some of my own reading comprehension #horikoshi is really smart honestly #poor yoichi AFO saw him in mineta #minetas supposed to be likeable but hes creepy toward girls #but if mineta were tall and nothing else changed i bet some people would like him romantically #reblogs dont show unless its from someone you follow or in the fyp page and i go to the chapters of rewound afo a lot #cuz. cough. hes hot. why #hes an ugly baby and more western or greek(?)-looking as a grown man but between those ages? hes hot and looks like yoichi #im sorry im not trying to hijack anything i swear #im not very smart but i like psychoanalysis and foreshadowing #this was just my reblog adding onto what op said. check the og post for more context #i wouldnt have thought about this on my own. originally thought AFO sparing tokoyami was just for the series fans

[ultimateloserboy]

thinking about duck dhmis having health issues and not even knowing it. first of all, he has diabetes, which you could say is just a joke, but i dont really think so. id say it would be if yellow guy didnt bring it up again a minute later in electricity where it was confirmed. sure hes talking to a different character, but his immediate assumption when someone is acting strange is to assume their blood sugar is low. i might be stretching- but to me it implies hes been in this situation before. charged yellow guy doesnt become smarter out of nowhere, he simply understands his already existing memories better, meaning he wouldve already known what low blood sugar was and how to deal with it before his batteries getting replaced. this implies to me that yellow guy has helped duck with his low blood sugar before, though i dont think him or duck actually understands whats going on. im not a diabetes expert or anything, but i know that low blood sugar is not nice, and you feel much better after grabbing a snack. which is funny, because in the past the creators have really driven it home that duck enjoys sweets and just food in general. in the “Its Nice That” QNA back in like 2016, half of ducks answers were about snacks and foods he liked. he said he finds yogurt exciting, and that his blood type is cream, etc. again, maybe im stretching, but it makes sense for him to enjoy these foods so much, because they’d probably make him feel better even if he doesn’t understand why. he probs thinks he just really fucking likes yogurt but in reality his blood sugar is literal ass.

moving on though, in the death episode he mentions forgetting to drink water, which is the cause of his literal death. dehydration is not a nice feeling, and its canon that the puppets experience pain like we do to an extent, so how long was duck feeling miserable without noticing? when the coffin cuts his finger he doesnt react at all, saying it “doesnt hurt that much” but pain is pain even if its small. he didnt even flinch to his finger being cut off. i dont think its the pain thats small, i think his pain tolerance is just too high for his own good. he probably didnt notice the pain of dehydration, or the pains of low blood pressure, or the pain of his insides being removed. he felt it, but he just didnt register how bad it really was. when he sees yellow guy being tore up in jobs he starts freaking out, obviously understanding that it must hurt, but if he was in the same situation he would be laughing. it makes me kind of sad in a way

there’s three ways i think this can be interpreted:

1: hes so desensitized to his own pain after eternity of being ripped apart that he doesnt even register when hes in pain anymore

2: hes so determined to be big and strong (like the military) that he refuses to acknowledge his pain because its a weakness he needs to get over

or 3: a mixture of both that is so bad it causes him to literally die of his own self-neglect. and even when his body tries to shut down and rest(die), he still refuses even that.

(plus, to add on to my runt-duck post, runts often have life-long health issues if they do live past infancy. i will die on the runt-duck hill. he is just like me.)

#‘what do you mean living isnt supposed to hurt? of course it is!’ #‘its a war and im winning!’ (in excruciating pain but will not admit it/thinks its normal) #dhmis duck #duck dhmis #duck guy #dont hug me im scared #dhmis analysis #dhmis tv series #dhmis tv show #dhmis theory

[levmada]

sequel to this post

[@dressycobra7 :3]

➥ c/w: gn!reader, some angst, oral (m!receiving), praise, subby Levi canonverse, established relationship, handjob, finger sucking?, turned into smut somehow

➥ wc: 1.8k

The boy appeared to you and Levi later to apologize profusely like that was the reason he'd been born. You didn't have the heart to turn him away, and filed inside the small recovery room behind him, with its half-exposed brick walls. The curtains were shut, but enough light penetrated. Levi looked too tired to stop him, and it took an arduous amount of time to get through, but his answer was short, to the effect of, If you're not court-marshaled, don't do it again. A slightly upper angle and I would've bled out. Then where would we be?

You're still thinking about that as you stock the closet with some of his clothes. Mandatory bedrest for at least a week, and after that, take it slow. Levi practically shriveled up when someone said 'wheelchair', and he preferred if hospital germs didn't get into his quarters.

You'll have his squad up there every day doing routine cleaning, "trouble" which Levi didn't need to exert his mind over. He's busy being stubborn.

You turn around when you hear porcelain clink. He's leaned over the dresser next to the bed, trying to take the tea.

"Levi," you scold.

"We don't need Hange to tell me my arms are in fine working condition," he grumbles, leaning back as you come over.

He's right, though. No one would even notice any arm wound because the bandages and plaster wrapping around his lower leg are bordering-on gaudy. It's propped up on a fat pillow, also white, the same as his soft-looking boxers and collared shirt (of which many buttons hang loose). In the glowing late afternoon, he looks ethereal, not quite of-this-world. A dove which is angry and stubborn and trapped.

"Still," you say quietly.

"I'm fine... I don't need anything."

Mikasa and Sasha had picked flowers, which you set in a watered glass jar atop the dresser. White again.

You watch him sip, and go over when he's done, laid propped up against pillows. A wooden bench at the side; you sat for hours while he slept through the day (the whole incident happened this morning). You sit on it now.

"I know... But why not want?" you repeat, quietly looking down at your hands.

"Who are we to want anything?"

You sharply look. "Why are you talking like this?"

He just watches you, shrewdly, but with a weakness not indicative of him. It might be exhaustion talking...

"We could always die. Titans could get in—"

"I'd kill them."

"Not like this..."

You said the wrong thing—the wrongest thing. His lips press into a thin line, barely-concealed contempt and clean daggers for eyes. The way he looks, like he believes if he tensed up enough, then he'd turn invisible and leave this argument in the dust.

You gesture slightly. "Because I would protect you. Even if I wasn't one of your comrades, or a soldier."

His lip twists in a unique disgust, which is the most you can see, his head turned towards the wall. Over his stomach, his hand tightens into a fist. "If you weren't, you'd die. Then I'd be dead anyway."

You swallow. You want to yell, and cry.

"I don't want that, either way. You didn't deserve to... see me like that. That seems to be why I'm talking like this."

The anger has left him. Delicately, you stand and seat yourself on the edge of the bed by his waist. "I've seen you be lots of things. 'Weak' is okay too. And I'm okay with seeing you like that as many time as I must, which is once so far."

He scoffs softly through his nose.

You lean forward more, and walk your fingers through his hair. Blacker than night, soft. There's a little piece you tuck behind his ear. His eyes flutter, letting out a deep breath. You can almost see the goosebumps.

"I know we'll die, and I know we belong to something much bigger, but can't I love you anyway?"

His breathing hitches a little, and his eyes open. It's a wonder what he's thinking, if he's even thinking about it, his adam's apple bobbing.

"Do whatever you want. I'm fine, if it's possible I can be with you."

It's your heart's turn to flutter, and just as soon, lean over awkwardly, your head resting on his chest and your arms around him (at least as much as they can be). You hear his heartbeat. The slowing, smooth rhythm of his choppy breathing carrying your upper half. His arm slips around your waist, content to rest his lips in your hair. As the time passes, he's more and more comfortable to hold you to tame the fear his anger betrayed. By that time, your arm's fallen asleep; you rub his side.

As tempting as it is to go down to the mess crowded for dinner, and contend with questions, you stay, just appreciating existing next to him.

"Your back," he mutters. You've been bent over a while.

"Mm." He's officially being ignored.

His hand slips over yours on his side, stopping you. His face doesn't give anything away, maybe purposefully so, and so you smile.

Leaning up, a fond kiss to his cheek. "You're cute when you make that face. Is your leg feeling okay?"

He clicks his tongue mildly with his head turned out, just showing you his cheek and one blue-grey eye. "'m fine," he says quietly.

Curious eyes search. Maybe he's downplaying something, but not lying. With nothing you'd rather do, you kiss down his jaw now, to the tender, pale column of his neck. His chest lifts suddenly against yours.

His question sounds like an afterthought. "What're you doing?"

"'m loving you," you lift your lips to say. (A little embarrassing to say out loud.)

"Yeah." His lips are still in your hair, but are stirring.

You remember he has your hand when he starts bringing them down. All across your upper half, you feel him breathing, and it's a little deeper.

You switch sides, putting you at an awkward angle to kiss him. He starts to move over towards the wall, but you stop him with a firm hum fast enough, and sit up. No walking, Moblit had told him firmly. What you kind of wish he'd said now is no moving his legs. For now you ignore it pushing snugly against the front of his boxers, but there's a wisp of a giggle in your chest.

You shift the pillow carefully, and he follows, until there's enough room for you there beside him. The mattress is only half-decent, but it's warm from his body.

He looks annoyed that you're smirking, if only he could come off the slightest bit intimidating blushing so hard like this. Pink warmth creeps down his neck and disappears beneath his open, rumpled collar.

"Tch." He just captures the nape of your neck and pulls your lips against his—a little slowly that comes with tiredness, but that much more passionately.

While you play with his lips, giving him away to you, your palm roams between his thighs. You pause there. Right as he shivers with his lip trapped between your teeth, you pull away and leer over him. "Don't move, baby. Move and I'll stop."

His eyes narrow in a bratty display.

"I mean it." You smile. "Even a touch" You stroke through his clothes slow and firm, immediately bringing a dreaming-like quality to his eyes. He almost can't look at you, especially as he huffs and it throbs under you.

"Baby?" You lick your thumb.

"I won't move." He huffs again, harsher this time. "Ugh, I won't fucking move, but you can't just—"

Your free hand, your thumb, falls against his jaw and stops his soft lips from flapping, so now a whole new quality of lust emerges in his expression. You're freeing his cock from his shorts as he instantly takes you in, so soft and sweet and giving. The heat that immediately consumes your thumb is melting, almost too intense to handle.

"Good boy, letting me."

His eyes flutter as you find where wetness has drooled from the tip of his stiff cock, spreading it around in your palm. It's easy to hold him, how he was made for you, and even easier to touch him to attract his hips, and the beginning of whispered whines he always always tries to suppress.

He hasn't forgotten, though. At the moment you send him a warning look, he relaxes, and his eyes are closed. You didn't notice him take hold of your wrist, holding just to hold, and gripping the front of his shirt with the other hand, since you're not close enough.

"Good boy," you murmur again. A moan vibrates round your thumb, his cock straining in your fist. "That's my good boy..."

It seems all the squirming he doesn't do has to go towards suckling and nipping your thumb instead. You watch his brows furrowed in deep focus as you build up your firm strokes. It's getting just as wet. He can't last.

You smile to yourself as your pumps rise to his tip, firm but quick flicks of your wrist. His back bows against the bed, the moan in his throat breaking apart into a whine. That aside, he stays perfectly still, so you let it slide.

"Does it feel that good when I touch you? Going to come, sweetheart?"

"Mm," his voice comes firm and tightly-wound. His eyes open into slight slits, see you watching shamelessly, and shut again. "Mm!"

Just as he throbs and tenses up. You bend over gripping down low, abruptly tearing your hand away from his mouth to sink his cock inside yours; pinning his hips, rubbing his heavy balls in your grasp.

"F-Fuck, fuckfuck!" He takes sudden, almost too-tight hold of your hair, gasping, and tearing the sheet, and shuddering. He moans all through it, broken whispers of your name, almost hummed at the top of his throat at the quietest, and always eagerly throbbing in the hot suction of your mouth. You take everything in deep swallows.

When finally, his hips are threatening to squirm to shy away and his cock softening, you pull off. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as he melts into the sheets. He has half of his bright red face hiding under his arm, catching his breath.

"Fuck, I don't know how you expected me to stay still. Come here." He lowers his arm.

"For the mess." You smile sweetly.

"Come here."

"You're not doing anything." But you do, and let him give you a kiss. He looks extremely unhappy about that, but for once, it looks like he'll listen when you say.

Levi masterlist | main masterlist

#mostly unedited :s #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman smut #aot smut #levi smut #captain levi x reader #captain levi x you

[nuctoria]

Enjoy Upthere for the both of us

TW - panic, separation, mention of death.

“M-man, it's strange being back in the Underwhere after so long. Sure brings back memories, eh bro?” the green capped man lightly nudged his distracted brother and gave him a weak smile. 

It was really strange. They knew their time was limited, they dreaded it as time grew near, but now that death had ironically taken them both at the same time they weren't as scared. The knowledge of where they were to end up and that they would still be together must have helped ease their nerves, plus they were thankful that their passings were calm and peaceful.

The brothers held hands as they walked down the hall and passed D-men who barely spared them a glance to get to the queen of this realm. Queen Jaydes. She stood tall as she patiently watched them approach her and give her respectful bows. 

“My condolences, Mario and Luigi.”

“We hope you and Grambi have been well, Jaydes” Mario politely said after rising back up to look up at her. 

“We are and it is thanks to you two and your friends that we are allowed to continue doing so. We also thank you for not letting our daughter's sacrifice be in vain” the queen responded, giving the two a small smile of gratitude. 

Mario offered his own smile but it wavered a bit. He took a deep breath and asked her, “Do you perhaps know how Peach has been? I hope she is being treated well in the Upthere. I really miss her…”.

Peach's passing hadn't been easy for anyone in the kingdom, especially Mario. He missed her more and more each day he lived and though he may not be able to join her in the afterlife, he hoped her spirit was happy as a Nimbi. 

“She's doing well, last I heard from Grambi. She really misses you.” answered Jaydes, receiving a thank you nod from Mario. 

“Now, we must delay no further. Your judgements shall be revealed” announced the queen of the Underwhere, taking a bit of time to go over their actions and deeds in life. 

Mario held Luigi's hand tightly and shut his eyes as he waited. He really wanted to enjoy Upthere with Peach and Luigi, but he wasn't going to hold his breath. Sure, the two had saved countless lives and suffered many dangers during their adventures but that could not lessen their crimes. They had ended up here when they fought Count Bleck back then, unlike Peach, and they could not deny their fates. At least he still had Luigi with him. Nothing could harm them as long as they're together. 

Finally, Queen Jaydes gave her judgement. “Fate has smiled upon you, Mario. Peach will be delighted to hear the news of your arrival to Upthere”. 

He opened his eyes and stared at her in utter shock. Was this…was this true? Was he truly going to the Upthere? Was he going to see Peach again? He couldn't believe it. 

He laughed happily and thanked Jaydes profusely, turning to Luigi and grabbing his shoulders in pure joy. 

“D-did you hear that Lu?! We're going to the Upthere! We're all going to be together again! We'll be Nimbis like Peach and live on clouds! Isn't that amazing?!”

Luigi didn't show the same excitement as Mario did, only giving him a small smile. It was a happy smile, of course, but it was also sad. This confused Mario and brought his own excitement down. 

“Luigi? Hey, what's wrong? Aren't you excited?” Mario asked his younger twin softly, growing more confused when Luigi took a step away from him. 

“Tell Peach I said hi when you get there, ok bro…?” was all Luigi said. 

It finally clicked at that moment. Jaydes had only said Mario's name, not both of their names. But why?! He had done as many crimes so why was only Luigi getting the short end of the stick?! 

“What's going on? Why can't you come along?! How is this fair?!” Mario asked in a panic, looking between Luigi and Jaydes for an explanation which the queen provided. 

“Your brother really loves you, Mario. He was adamant that you deserved to be in a better place than this. He made a deal with me to ensure your place in the Upthere while he stays here in the Underwhere with me”, explained Jaydes. 

“Don't worry, bro, I'll be fine. Besides, I'm glad I can still be useful by helping Jaydes with the roudier souls…” Luigi tried to calm Mario's rising panic. 

Mario was not willing to listen, “Have you lost your mind?! Do you have any idea who you will be stuck here with all alone?! You can't do this! End the deal, I'm not going anywhere without you!” shouted Mario. 

This declare was taken as a sign that the D-men would need to step in, getting ahold of Mario and started dragging him away to the gates of the Upthere. Mario struggled against them and demanded they let him go, pleading with Luigi to not leave him and begging for Jaydes to not do this. 

All Jaydes did was bow her head in guilt as Luigi tried to keep a smile on his face despite the tears running down his face. Mario could feel feathery wings form on his back the closer he was dragged to the gates but his focus was on his brother and his transformation into a Shayde. He started crying, his begging growing louder and more desperate as struggled against the D-men and reached out towards Luigi. 

“Enjoy Upthere for the both of us, bro. I love you…” Luigi softly said, his voice quivering from trying to keep his sobs in. 

The gates opened and Mario was forcefully thrown past them. 

“LUIGI!!!”

--------

So um... I don't know, I remembered an old comic dub on YouTube and thought of this. Hope you enjoyed!

@istadris @itsavee4117 @vulpixfairy1985 @billinshoes @silenzahra

#luigi #mario #Jaydes #Underwhere #Spm #Sad #Random writing

[clementine-writes-things]

"Run Rabbit, Run!" pt.1 - E.N

Summary: Y/n Wayne, Edward's obsession and love. He can't help but follow them, watch them, stalk them. A strategic 'run in' in a bookstore turns into a friendship, and that turns into a requited love. But of course, Edward goes to Arkham. Will that change anything, though? (In this story, the seawall bombing doesn't happen. Only the death of Falcone. This story makes more sense if you've read Year One, but if not you should still be ok! <3)

Pt.2 here

Content Warning: 18+, explicit language, yandere!Edward, stalker!Edward, self-hate, egotistical!Edward, obsessed!Edward, megalomaniac!Edward, mentions of murder, mentions of guns, edward comparing himself to a fox and y/n to a rabbit, sexual content, dirty talk, descriptions of sexual intercourse, AFAB!Reader, she/her pronouns.

Word Count: 6,608

Songs For Inspo:

Daydream In Blue - I Monster

Where Is My Mind? - Pixies

Every Breath You Take - The Police

~Read Below Cut~

'Y/n Wayne.'

Even thinking about her name gave him chills. A shiver scurried down his spine, fading at the tips of his toes. His glasses reflected the blue light of his laptop, eyes darting around as he scanned over the various articles. Pictures of y/n, each in different tabs, covered his screen. Each one was minimized so he could see all of them at once. It had become a part of his nightly routine.

"Research" he called it.

What exactly was he researching, though? A weak link in Wayne Enterprises? A way to gain access to more information? Blackmail over Bruce Wayne? Or, was he simply learning as much as he could about the Wayne family?

None of the above.

He was learning more about her.

His tongue darted out, swiping over his lips before retreating back into his mouth. It was late, he should be asleep, that's what most people would say. But, Einstein only took naps, was sleep really important? He didn't think so. Edward only slept when he felt like it was necessary. He used to get a tad bit more sleep, but his new "hobby" occupied that extra time now. With a click of his touchpad, he opened up a new article. Gotham Gazette. Tired eyes read the title, a hum of satisfaction sounding in his chest.

'Y/n Wayne Donates 3 Million To Gotham City Orphanage'

'"All I know is, children should have a safe place to call home. Even if they do not have a family, they still deserve love and kindness." She said as she left the orphanage.'

Edward's lips curled up into a small smile.

"A charitable, generous spirit. And yet, you are a Wayne..." He mumbled to himself.

An irrepressible yawn rose from his chest, eyes squinting slightly as his jaw slacked. He blinked away tears that formed in his eyes, wiping the excess away with his palms. It was at that moment he realized how badly the screen hurt his retinas, due to staring at it for over an hour. Edward grunted, yawning again as he zoomed in on a picture of y/n. She was sitting on a park bench, most likely at Gotham Central Park, right next to her older brother Bruce Wayne. Edward had found out through "research" that she was 28, just 3 years younger than him. Bruce, however, was 30 years old.

"So soft and kind in your appearance, yet aware, like a twitchy rabbit."

Reaching forward, he glided his finger tips over the image. He sighed, closing the laptop before standing up from his desk. If he continued to look at the pictures or read the articles any longer, he would be up all night. If it was the weekend, he could do that, but in the morning he had work. Work. He wondered, was that something that y/n knew of? Did she have a job, or did she simply live off of her dead parents money? Well, she did run part of Wayne Enterprises, so she did get money from that. But, her part in it was not huge, as it was mainly her older brother that ran the company. Edward knew that y/n was independent, as she didn't live with her brother in Wayne Tower. She had her own apartment, as a matter of fact, she lived near Edward. Though, that was not by coincidence. Edward had moved apartments recently, and when he did, he took into mind where y/n lived. So, because of his "strategic" planning, her apartment was directly across the street from his. It was concerning how obsessed he had become with her, the obsession had turned into stalking, and he so desperately wanted to have an encounter with her. Edward was always socially awkward and shy growing up in the orphanage, never having any friends or even trying to make any. He was too different. But, when he began his journey as the Riddler, he felt more confident and powerful than ever before. And y/n, well, every time he saw her...he felt confident in other forms. Edward looked down at the ground, seeing his growing erection hidden under his pants. He groaned, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath through his nose. Curling his hands into fists, he glanced back down at his laptop. He so badly wanted to open it back up and stare at the pictures of her for hours on end, but he did need to sleep, much to his dismay. If he showed up to work tired and sluggish again, he feared he might get fired. Getting fired was the last thing he needed, as a source of income was necessary to live in this shithole of a city. The twitching of his pants brought him out of his thoughts, hissing at the tightening of the fabric around him.

He ran his hands through is hair, muddling it up. Walking to his bedroom, he removed his belt, tossing it haphazardly on his dresser. Edward kicked his jeans off, not even bothering to see where they landed, his apartment was already a mess due to his plannings. In his t-shirt and boxers, he walked to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and staring at himself in the mirror. The throbbing underneath his underwear did not cease, as thoughts of y/n still raced through his mind. Some of them were innocent, he thought about what her favorite songs were, what her favorite color was, and did she have any childhood pets? But, the other half consisted of graphic fantasies. Edward did not consider himself to be a sexual man, but y/n evoked an animalistic feeling inside of him. To be fair, that's not all he felt towards her. He had many dreams about simply holding her in his arms, feeling loved for once in his life. But, again, he also had dirty thoughts. Images of her beneath him, back arched and mouth agape flashed by his eyes. He had heard her voice before, in interviews, and he imagined how her moans would sound. Would they be high-pitched, or would they be sultry and low? He favored the former, picturing himself making her feel so good that she couldn't maintain a consistent tone of her voice. He wanted to feel her touch so badly. He wanted to keep her safe. Oh, how he would love to protect her from the scum that populated this city. In a way, he already was. He would watch her apartment every night, keeping a close eye on who came in and came out. He practically knew everyone of the tenants schedules at this point. Edward spat the toothpaste and spit mixture into the sink, washing it away.

"The bookstore. That's when you'll see her." He mumbled to himself.

He brought a paper cup of water to his lips, swishing it around in his mouth. Spitting into the sink, he tossed the cup into the trashcan. Edward placed his hands on the edge of the basin, looking at his reflection. His eyes had heavy bags underneath them, a result from lack of sleep, his own fault. After a few seconds, he smirked, turning the light off and walking out of the bathroom. Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, he read the time.

'4:19 A.M'

He cursed under his breath, dragging his hand down his face. It was so late and he had to get up early. Edward had complete control over when he went to bed, and yet he chose to stay up and torture himself. Why? So he could indulge in his obsession with y/n. But, he wouldn't have to stay up late anymore. Tomorrow, he was going to take a big leap. He was prepared, but he just hoped everything went according to plan. Yawning once again, he got under the covers of his bed. The erection he had earlier was still there, though slowly fading away. It was a good thing, because he was too tired to take care of it like he usually did. Edward had gone through an embarrassingly high amount of tissues since his new 'hobby' started. He removed his glasses, placing them on his nightstand, looking back up towards the ceiling. The sounds of police sirens echoed throughout the streets as he slowly drifted off into sleep, a single thought crossing his mind before.

'This city is a stain on the earth.'

~

The morning came quick, and Edward went to his job running on 3 1/2 hours of sleep. He was used to it though. Work was the same as it always was for him: boring and easy. Being a forensic accountant was easy work, numbers always being a simple thing for him to understand, ever since he was a child. Though, just because he was smart didn't mean he got recognized for it. He would get accounts done quicker than expected, and his 'higher up' would get all the credit. Edward came to understand one thing about Gotham fairly quickly in his adolescence, and that was that the lower class did not get any recognition. But, he somehow managed to get through another soul-crushing day at KTMJ. It felt longer because of what awaited him. He stood outside the window of a small bookstore, peering inside subtly. Glancing down at the watch on his wrist, he nodded slightly before walking inside. Because of his penchant for stalking y/n, he discovered that she frequented this particular bookstore. Obviously, Edward took this as a sign that she liked to read. He did too, which gave him a bit of a one-up to start a conversation when he 'accidentally' ran into her. From what he had observed, the always came every other Friday, sometimes they didn't go, but he was willing to take a chance today. His bag from work was slung over his shoulder, laptop and his 'personal' ledger inside of it, filled to the brim with his thoughts and ideas. He walked down the aisles, pretending that he was looking for a book. Rounding the corner, he froze in place, withdrawing behind the shelf as he saw her. She was looking at the rows of books, specifically under the 'Horror/Thriller' section. Edward closed his eyes.

'Shh. You're okay. Just breathe. Now, go.'

Without another thought, he stepped out from behind the shelf. He let his eyes wander around the area. Edward continued to walk towards her, bracing himself for what he was about to do. Squinting his eyes shut, he walked directly into her, falling on his back. His bag, still around his shoulder, laid next to him. Just like he knew she would, she gasped and looked down at him. He held onto his head, faking a grunt as he met her gaze. Y/n knelt down, holding out a hand with a soft smile.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Did I trip you?" She asked softly.

Edward smirked internally, finding it amusing that she was the one who apologized even though he was the one who ran into her. It just goes to show how polite she was. He nodded, grabbing onto her hand and allowing her to help him get up. The feeling of her soft supple skin against his sent a shiver down his spine, just like he got when he looked at pictures of her.

"There's no need for you to apologize, I'm the one who wasn't looking at where I was going. And, no, you did not trip me...Ms. Wayne! I'm very sorry for running into you ma'am." He faked his surprise.

She shook her head.

"No, no, I have a bad habit of standing directly in the middle of the aisles. I get so focused on finding the book I want that I forget about my surroundings. And, please, call me Y/n. Me being a Wayne doesn't change a thing about my status. Or, at least I like to believe that." Y/n laughed awkwardly.

Edward groaned in his head, her laugh resonating in his ears. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. It made his heart warm and his lips form a smile. Now, it was time to start a real conversation. He had to get y/n interested in him.

"Well, that's understandable depending on what book you were looking at. Have you found one?" He asked suavely.

She shook her head, placing her hands on her hips. He took in her appearance, light makeup on her face, he had noticed that she really liked blush on her nose. Just like earlier, he had compared her to a rabbit, and the faint pinkish nose further solidified his comparison. She wore jeans and a dark burnt sienna sweater. A pair of mismatched converse covered her feet, which Edward found to be an interesting fashion choice.

"No, I haven't found one yet. I know what I want, but I just can't...find it? You know?" She shrugged, placing a book onto the shelf.

"Readers block?" He questioned.

"Oh, is that a thing?" She asked, tilting her head.

"I mean, maybe? I just made it up on the spot." Edward shrugged.

"Huh, well I like it. I'm gonna start calling it that...anyways, what kind of book are you looking for? Maybe that will help me." Y/n asked, whipping her hair out of her face.

Edward used every fiber of his being to not lurch forward and smell her hair. Though, he could detect a soft smell of peaches. It was a pleasant scent that made him want more. More of her. If he could just touch her...

"I was just looking for some of Shakespeare's plays. I've already read the majority of them, but I don't have them in my own apartment." He said.

"You like Shakespeare?" Y/n asked in bewilderment.

"Who doesn't?"

"I loved reading Shakespeare in high school, I got made fun of for it so much. But, being a Wayne might have had something to do with it too..." She trailed.

"Do you have a favorite play? I wouldn't mind re-reading a few." Edward hoisted up his bag, readjusting its position on his shoulder.

"Well, call me basic, but I really like Macbeth and Hamlet, the stories are interesting. Romeo and Juliet is a classic though, if you want romance."

Y/n walked over to the plays, scanning the shelves and removing a book. She opened it up, flipping through the pages. Edward watched closely, like a predator analyzing his prey for a weakness. Where would he strike, and when? Would he go for the throat and jump right into action? No. He had to be patient. If he was to truly win her love, he would have to do it the right way. But, he so desperately wanted to grab her hips. He pictured himself shoving her against the shelf, attacking her neck with his lips and teeth. Would she squeal like a timid rabbit? Would she enjoy it? Would she want him to do more? Would she beg for him to take her in this very aisle? Oh, he hoped so. He so badly hoped that she had the same filthy fantasies as he did.

"Mmm, here's one of my favorite quotes! 'Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.'.." She giggled, looking down at the quote with a smile.

Y/n closed the book, sliding it back on to the shelf.

"A Midsummer Night's Dream. That's a good one." He nodded.

"I told myself growing up that I would not accept someone's love unless they spoke through the words of Shakespeare. It's easy to tell someone you love them, but finding a poetic way is harder."

He looked at her, fascination evident in his eyes. She was even more interesting in person. Of course, Edward knew she liked Shakespeare. He practically knew everything about her. But, to be discussing it with her face to face was an amazing feeling. He never wanted this conversation to end.

"Fuck, what am I saying? I'm discussing my childhood with a complete stranger. I never even asked what your name was!"

"It's Edward. Edward Nashton." He introduced himself.

"Edward Nashton...why does that name sound so familiar..." She hummed.

He felt himself sweat. Why did he tell her his real name!? What an idiot. Stupid, stupid, idiot. Her father knew him, of course she knows his name. Should he tell her? Should he tell her about Renewal? She was smart, he knew that. Eventually, even if he never told her, she would find out. If he kept it as a secret, it would likely ruin his chances with her. Damn it.

"Um, your father came to the orphanage I was homed in, back when the Renewal project started. I applied, but then he..." He trailed.

'Great first impression, bring up her dead father. Real fucking smart.'

Y/n noticed he looked guilty for bringing it up, so she put on a small smile.

"Did you ever get accepted?" She asked.

"No."

"Oh, I see. I'm very sorry about that. I was too young to take part in any of that...if I was able to, I would have done more than he did." She scoffed.

Edward picked up on the hint of resentment. Perhaps, she felt equally upset about the Wayne's history? Oh, how interesting...

"I don't hold on any ill will towards you, incase you were worried. I've seen what you've been doing for Gotham citizens, especially the children." He said.

That was true, he held no ill will towards y/n. Her family, on the other hand, that was a different story. Sure, he still had a fascination with Bruce Wayne, but he needed to pay for the sins of his father. Y/n did not. She was actively trying to do things about the corruption and violence in Gotham. Meanwhile, her brother stayed up in Wayne tower being waited on by a butler. Edward couldn't remember the last time Bruce Wayne did something as charitable as y/n did. A ringing in y/n's pocket echoed throughout the store, causing them to scramble to grab it. Looking at the caller ID, she shook her head and lightly sighed. She looked up towards Edward, holding up a finger with a sheepish smile. He nodded, wishing he could see that shy smile once more. Y/n stepped away slightly, answering the phone and holding it up to her ear as she leaned against a shelf. Edward could not hear the conversation, only what y/n was saying.

"Hey Brucey, what's up?" She asked.

'I need you to come to Wayne Tower. You know about drops, right?'

"Um, yeah?"

'I busted a dealing and I'm not sure where to go from here. I was wondering if you might have any leads since you live near the shady part of the city.'

"Shit, look, you know I'd help, but I really don't think I should get involved with that...hobby. I'm not a huge fan."

She looked at Edward, not wanting to be too open with information. Based on the tone of her voice, Bruce assumed that someone was near her. She knew that Bruce was Batman. Did she like the idea and purpose behind it? Yes. Did she want to get involved? No. Y/n loved her brother to death, but she did not want to get involved in his vigilante life.

'I understand. I'll figure it out myself. But, y/n, be careful. This city is filthy.'

"You know what, I can send you some information for it later on." She added.

'Oh, that's great! Thank you so much, sis. I really appreciate it.'

"I know, Bruce. I love you. Tell Alfred I said hi, ok? We should have dinner sometime soon." She hummed.

'That sounds nice, and I'll be sure to tell Alfred. I love you too, be safe.'

Y/n hung up the phone, sliding it back into her pocket. She walked back over to Edward, clearing her throat. He gave her a smile.

"Sorry about that, it was my brother. He asked if I would come over and help him work on a car of his. I'm not a big fan of mechanics." She laughed.

"It's no problem. I think I'll get A Midsummer Night's Dream, you've convinced me." He smiled.

"Oh, I'm glad! You'll have to let me know what you think of it!" She beamed.

"And how would I do that exactly?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah...I don't know why I said that. Oops."

He smiled, pulling out his phone and opening his phonebook. Handing it to y/n, he encouraged her to take it. She looked up at him, that pink nose of hers scrunching as she giggled softly. He could see her cheeks turn pink, and it wasn't just the blush. He felt confident. Cocky. Proud. He knew that she wouldn't reject him. She was too kind to do that to someone. He was purposefully shy and awkward, knowing that it would raise the chances of her not rejecting him. Everything had been planned out and was being executed perfectly.

"Have I earned the right to ask for your number?" He asked, grabbing the book off the shelf.

"Hmm, I'd like to think so." She smiled, inputting her information into the phone.

Y/n handed it back to Edward, pulling out her phone as well. Smirking, he told her his phone number and watched as she typed it into a contact. He could feel his heart race from underneath his rib cage. It thumped, pounded, beat like crazy and he could practically hear his blood pumping in his ears. Swallowing thickly, he gave her an awkward smile, still playing the part of a socially awkward man.

"I'll talk to you later, yeah? I still can't figure out what to get, so I think I'll just head back home. Bye bye, Edward!" She waved, walking out of the store.

He waved a goodbye, watching as she walked away. His eyes were focused on her hair, bouncing and swaying with her steps. But, his eyes trailed lower and lower, resting on the plump of her ass. The way it moved was almost hypnotic, sending him into a trance of desire and lust. But, he had to be patient. As with his plan for Gotham, he had a plan for y/n. If he skipped steps, everything would fall down. So, he simply watched her fade away, the natural bounce in her step resembling the hop of a bunny. A familiar shiver creeped down his spine, his body shaking in delight. He wondered if she would have the same natural bounce in bed. Closing his eyes, he let his imagination run wild, feeling

'And there you go, gentle rabbit. As you hop through the streets, be calm, knowing that a fox is watching over you.'

~

He was a genius. His plan worked, and now y/n was eating from the palm of his hand. Back on the first night they met, he did not text her first, even though he wanted to. He had to make her want to talk to him. He had to make her want his attention. It was easier than he thought, though, as y/n found Edward to be an interesting man. He became a frequent guest at her apartment, pretending to be shocked when he 'found out' that they lived right across the street from each other. He no longer needed to 'research' her, because she would willingly confide to him about all of her problems, past, and thoughts. He was her friends, just like he had planned. A week turned into two, two turned into three, and then a month went by. Then, another month went by. And then another. It was October, and he was putting his plans for Falcone into motion. Everything was going perfectly according to plan. Of course it was, he had planned it. He never made mistakes. But, now, was another part of his goal that he needed to accomplish. Making y/n fall in love with him. And, he didn't have to try hard. As Halloween grew closer and closer, so did y/n's relationship with Edward. She found herself falling for him, face first into the dirt. He knew this. It was so obvious. Oh, it made him feel so powerful and strong, having a Wayne be in love with him. He could so easily manipulate it, use it as blackmail, but he didn't. This was for his own pleasure. He loved her and he was making her fall in love with him. It wasn't forcing, she was willingly doing it. It was so evident how head over heels she was for him. She was practically putty in his hand, and they both knew it. He could ask her to do anything and she would, well, with limitations of course, do it. Though, he would never ask her to do anything bad or criminal, no, no, no. Instead, he would ask for small favors...ones that he knew would drive her crazy and spiral further in love with him. The way she looked at him, it fed his ego so generously...

~

A knock at y/n's door caught her attention. She placed down the pencil she had in her hand, walking over. Glancing through the peephole, she giggled when she saw Edward on the other side. Y/n was quick to open the door.

"Eddie! Hi!" She greeted happily.

"Hello, y/n. I'm sorry to interrupt but the heater at my apartment building isn't working. Is it ok if I take a shower here?" He asked.

Y/n's cheeks tinted pink, eyes slightly widening. She swallowed a lump in her throat. Nodding, she stepped to the side, allowing him to come in. As he walked past, y/n took in the smell of his natural scent. For some reason, he always smelled like he wore cologne, even when he didn't. It was like a natural peppery smell, hints of pine and citrus as well. Y/n knew he loved candles, so it could be because he always had a candle lit and the smells just started to stick to him. Whatever the reason, y/n loved it.

"I'll go get a towel, but um, you'll have to use my soap and stuff." She said.

"No need, I brought my stuff. I had some extra, is it ok if I leave it here? In case I need to use your shower again in the future?" He questioned, slyly smirking to himself.

'Oh, how precious...she's blushing so deeply.'

"U-Um, yeah that's fine! Really smart! You're really smart, Edward!" She praised shyly.

'Yes, I already know that. But, say it again, it sounds so good coming from you...'

"Anyways, let me go get a towel for you." She smiled, leaving the room.

Edward waited till she left, noticing that the lamp on her desk was on. Curiously, he walked over to see what she was doing before he arrived. A pencil rested on an open sketchbook, the contents making his lips tug up in a smug grin. She had been sketching pictures of him. He was in her mind 24/7, unable to get him out, so much so that she needed to draw him. Some of them were normal sketches of him smiling, neutral, or frowning. But, then there were more risqué ones. Those intrigued him the most. There was one of him looking down, eyes dark and heavy, perfectly capturing how tired he looked all the time. Another one had him standing in front of a poorly drawn bed, the main focus being his own body. He was gripping the frame, hunching over it. It was drawn in a perspective that made him look down, almost like someone was below him staring up at him. Oh, he knew what was going through her mind when she drew that. After all, it was a thought he had quite often. One where she was beneath him, either on a bed or a couch, it didn't matter to him. But, she would look up at him with those doe eyes, completely bare and on display. He would look down, intimidating and ominous before ravishing her and making her nails dig into the skin of his back. Edward had heard of the 'cliche' promise of fucking someone so roughly that they'd break the bed, but he wasn't trying to be cliche. It wasn't playful dirty talk to him, no, it was a promise. And if he was ever given the chance, he would be sure to keep it.

"Ok, I put a towel in the bathroom. Y-"

Edward turned around, the sketchbook in his hand. Y/n was a mess, completely embarrassed. He knew she would get like that, which is exactly why he picked it up. Smiling, he lowered it from his vision.

"These are really good, y/n. I'm honored to be your muse."

"O-Oh, it's nothing. I j-just got bored, you know? And I know what you look like, so I figured I-I'd just draw you." She stuttered.

"This one is my favorite. Well, I'm going to shower." He said, walking towards the bathroom with a bag of his toiletries.

Y/n looked at the sketch he pointed at, face turning beet red. Of course it was the one of him looking down. God, why did she even draw that? Well, she knew why, but she was utterly embarrassed because he had seen it. And now, he was getting naked in her own apartment. Did he know what he did to her? The power he held over her? Yes, he did know that. After all, his heater was working just fine.

~

As time went on, Y/n knew something was up with Edward. The way she could see his lights on very late into the night. The way he never wanted her to come to his own apartment. But, all of her suspicions were answered one night. He did it on purpose, she was sure of it...

~

"I had so much fun with you tonight, Edward! Thanks for coming over." She smiled.

Y/n opened the door for him, watching him walk out and stand in the doorway. He looked at her and smiled.

"You don't need to thank me for wanting to hang out with you. I find it fun too."

He turned to walk away, but y/n called out to him. Edward stopped, looking back to her with a curious expression on his face. Y/n fidgeted with her hands. She knew what she wanted to ask, but she was terrified of what the answer might be. Of what it would be. There was no might. Deep down in her heart, she knew.

"Have you heard of this 'Riddler' man?" She asked.

Edward raised an eyebrow, walking back to the doorway. Leaning against the frame, he nodded. Y/n swallowed thickly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yes, I have. What about him?"

"W-Well, I've been a little scared. He seems to have a grudge against my brother...what if he starts targeting me?" Y/n sighed.

"Oh, I'm sure he won't come after you."

"How do you know that?"

"Just a hunch." He smirked, looking down on her.

That was it. It was in that exact moment that y/n knew. There was no debate about it. For the first time in a while, she felt true fear flood her body. A shiver ran down her spine, visible to Edward. He was playing with her. He was not saying he was the Riddler, but he wasn't saying he was not the Riddler either. But, if she suspected, then why didn't she tip off the police? Why did she not say anything? And most of all, why did she feel so hot as he looked at her. A serial killer, a friend, stood in front of her, and all she could feel was arousal. Edward smirked, he could see how rapidly she was breathing. Humming, he stepped towards her, forcing her to back away slowly. He closed the door behind him, holding a hand over his heart.

"You don't think that I'm the Riddler, do you?" He feigned surprise.

"W-What? N-No! W-Why would I think that?" She stuttered.

He continued to walk towards her until she was backed against her desk. Edward now stood in front of her, eyes looking down menacingly at her through the lenses of his glasses. She gripped the desk firmly, searching for stability. The sight alone made him lustful.

"Then why do you look so scared?" He questioned.

"I-I'm not, Edward. I'm not scared..." She mumbled.

"Yes you are. I can see it in your eyes. You're trembling beneath me."

"I-"

"Here. Call the police." He said, pulling out his phone.

"What?"

"Call the GCPD. Tell them that The Riddler is in your apartment."

Edward dialed 911 onto the phone, not pressing call. He handed it to her, crossing his arms over his chest. The phone shook in her hands, her eyes looking up into his. She should call them. But, she didn't want to. Yes, Edward had killed people...but they were all bad. Y/n knew better than most people how corrupt this city was, that was why she lived in a shitty apartment. She wanted to go through what every other Gotham citizen had to. That was why she donated money, volunteered, did whatever she could to help. But, these assholes did the exact opposite. They didn't give a shit about the people.

"N-No..."

"No? You won't call? Why is that?" He teased.

"Because, I-"

"Because you what?"

"Because I'm not betraying you! You're my friend, but you're sick in the head, Edward. I understand that you hate the corruption in this city, I do too. But, murder is not the way to solve it!" She cried.

"Oh, you're such a liar, y/n. You should already know how much I hate liars..." He seethed through gritted teeth.

"I-"

"I could kill you, easily." He muttered.

"Edwa-"

"Tell me the truth!"

"Because I love you!"

Edward smirked, stepping closer to her. He planted his hands on both sides of the desk, trapping her beneath him. Y/n was now breathing frantically, heart racing underneath her supple skin. He tutted, shaking his head as he leaned down to her ear.

"My, my, what would Bruce think? The citizens of Gotham? The news? Y/n Wayne, hopelessly in love with the Riddler. How sad..."

"Edward, what are you planning..."

"Mmm, why would I tell you? Because I love you?"

"W-"

"How would you feel if I told you that I had stalked you for months before I 'met' you?" He chuckled.

"What?"

"Do you think I coincidentally went to your favorite bookstore? That I just happened to live right across the street from you? I know everything about you, y/n. I've been watching you. Studying you. Like a predator stalks their prey. And you had no idea..." He smirked.

"Edward..."

"How does that make you feel? Are you scared? Petrified? Intimidated? Please do tell me."

Y/n whimpered, knees buckling below her. She was red in the face, eyes soft and hazy. Her mouth was partially open, lips shiny from her lip gloss. He could practically smell her fear. But a sickening scent of arousal hung thick in the air as well.

"Or do you like it?" He mocked.

"You're scaring me, Edward..."

"Is that why you're blushing? Is that why you're panting?"

He leaned forward, gripping his hands on her hips. She whined, biting on her bottom lip. Edward moved his knee to between their legs, roughly grinding it against her clothed heat. A pathetic whimper slipped from her lips.

"Is that why I can practically smell how aroused you are?"

"P-Please..."

"Do you get off on fear, y/n? Do you like being intimidated? Overpowered? At the mercy of someone else? The mercy of me?"

He moved his knee back and forth again, admiring how helpless she looked. She reached up and gripped onto his shoulders, throwing her head back. Edward scoffed, holding her head in place with his hand. He looked into her eyes as he continued to grind up into her.

"Talk."

"Fuck, y-yes, Ed! I l-love it! Please..." She groaned.

"You love what? Being at my mercy? Being afraid? Intimidated?"

"Yes! All of it!"

She leaned forward, snaking arms around his neck. Without a thought, y/n kissed him with force. He took no time at all to reciprocate it, hiking her up onto the desk. His tongue slipped into her mouth, teeth clashing against each other in the sloppy kiss. Edward pulled away, wrapping his hand around her throat. He slapped her face harshly, gripping her jaw.

"You're a fucking embarrassment to the Wayne family."

"I-I know..."

"Tell me you want me to fuck you. I know you want it."

"P-Please, Edward! Fuck me!"

He ripped her panties off, throwing them across the fl-

...

No, that's not what happened at all. None of that happened. It was a dream. A sick, sexual fantasy that y/n worked up in her head as she slept in her bed. She shot up out of bed, the center of her legs dripping wet. Shakily, she let out a breath, holding a hand over her chest as it heaved. Y/n definitely had feelings for Edward, that was a fact. But, she also had suspicions of him being the Riddler. He had never given any confirmation, but deep down in her gut she had a feeling. And what did her subconscious do with those feelings? It created a vulgar wet dream. Of course it did.

"He's not the Riddler. You're imagining things. It's paranoia." She whispered to herself.

She grabbed her phone off of the nightstand, the bright light making her eyes squint. It was late, but Edward usually pulled late nights. Shuddering, she called him, putting the phone on speaker. It was stupid, but she needed Edward to comfort her. The heat between her legs was still there, making her rub her thighs together.

'Y/n? It's the middle of the night, what's wrong? You kind of caught me in the middle of something.'

"Should I call you another time?" She asked.

'Uh, no it's ok. I have some time to...kill. So, what's up?'

"Well, I had a...bad...dream."

'Oh? What was it about?'

She blushed.

"Well, it was weird. I dreamt that you were the Riddler and you..."

She trailed, there was no way she was going to admit she had a wet dream about him. Fat fucking chance.

"...you were really scary."

Edward smirked, looking through the scope of the rifle. Still no sign of Falcone. Fuck.

'Really? Well, that's weird. I bet it was scary indeed.' He feigned curiosity.

"Yeah..."

'Well, it's ok now. It was just a 'bad dream'.' He cooed, emphasizing the last two words.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, unsure of why he did that. But, Edward knew she was lying about the dream. He didn't doubt that she had a dream where he was the Riddler, though. Throughout their time hanging out, he had been leaving extremely subtle clues. Subliminal messages that would lead y/n onto his trail. But, he could easily tell when y/n was lying. When she lied, she had a habit of trailing off on words or adding emphasis to them. He could see right through her. He knew what the dream truly was. Maybe not the full context, but he knew what it was about.

"Sorry, I just wanted to call you. You always help me calm down."

'Of course, y/n. I'd do anything for you. And I mean anything.' He chuckled to himself as the clubs of the door opened.

"What are you doing Edward?"

'Shhh, you'll make me miss.' Edward giggled.

"Miss? Miss wh-"

The sound of a gunshot rang through the phone, echoing throughout the block as well. Y/n shot out of bed, running towards the window. Looking down, she saw cops around 44 Below. A street light shone down on a body and y/n gasped when she saw Bruce. Her eyes flickered towards Edward's window. There it was.

A sniper rifle.

"Edward!?"

'Oh, not now rabbit, I've got to run! I'll see you soon...'

The call hung up. Y/n stood there, phone limply held in her hand. She dropped it to the ground, seeing Bruce run into Edward's apartment. Her heart sunk in her chest, falling into the pit of her stomach. She was right about Edward.

And now he killed Falcone.

~

#writers #fanfic writer #writers of tumblr #fanfic #dc universe #the riddler #paul dano #edward nashton #dano riddler #paul dano riddler #danonation #danonator #danocel #the batman

[iwritesickfic]

Where I Need to Be - part 2

it's been a while since I put out part 1, but here's the conclusion! hope you enjoy :)

While the day has been miserable, Theo’s pretty sure he’s over the hump of whatever illness he has. He hasn’t thrown up since this morning, and his fever’s been under control (mostly) since he’s been able to hold down ibuprofen and water. He’s still got a pounding headache, and his stomach is puffy and tender, but all in all, it’s not as bad as it could be. And he knows how bad it could be.

He’s been in and out of sleep the last few hours, and he’s woken up most recently to a hushed phone conversation happening on the other side of the bedroom door. He’s only getting bits and pieces-

“Kelly, I told you…sick, that’s why…fever…Ok fine…One hour…Ok. Bye.”

Then the door opens, and Seamus is walking in. His smile is strained, but it’s there.

“Hey, love. How are we?” he asks, same gentle voice as always. It’s so different than the one he was using on the phone just a moment ago.

“Not bad,” he says, and for once he's telling the truth. Seamus sits down the edge of the bed, laying his hand on Theo’s forehead.

“You still feel pretty cool. Not cool, but not…not too hot,” he says, and runs his thumb back and forth over his sweat slick skin. They sit in silence for a while before Seamus speaks again. “So. I’m going to ask you something but I need you to be really, really honest. Ok?”

Theo nods. This will have to do with the phone call. Kelly is the artist whose album he’s working on. And who deeply, deeply dislikes Theo. Needless to say, she was not pleased to find out Seamus was missing a day of work to be with Theo, fever of 104 or not.

“There’s a dinner tonight with some people from the label, and Kelly- they want me to go.” There’s an expression on his face that Theo can only describe as shame. It makes sense he’d feel that way, but Theo doesn’t hold it against him. Work is work, they both know that, and some part of Theo was waiting for this conversation to come. And he can't even fully focus because his head is throbbing.

“Ok,” he says, voice shaky. “What did you tell them?”

“I told them I’d have to see about it but it’d only be there for an hour, tops. So be honest, if I was gone for two hours, do you think you’d be ok? Do you feel like it’s getting worse?”

“How big of a deal is it? Contract, or?” He already knows it’s a very big deal or Seamus wouldn’t be asking, but his answer will pretty much depend on it.

“That’s not…” He bites his lip. “It’s not contracted, but if they don’t like what they see…” He trails off before shaking his head. “It’s ok either way. If I stay or go. Just be honest.”

Honestly, he doesn’t want Seamus to leave. Not at all. That said, he doesn’t feel sick enough to justify making him stay. If sleeps for the next few hours, which is likely, there’d be no point in making Seamus stay home.

“Go. I’ll be fine.” A wave of relief seems to wash over Seamus, though the look of guilt doesn’t totally leave.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine for a couple hours.”

“Ok. Two hours. Tops.”

He’s asleep before Seamus even walks out the door. But when he wakes up, he realizes that this virus is far from done with him.

His whole body is shaking, sweat pouring off him, his clothes plastered to his skin. His stomach is in knots, and when he opens his mouth to take a gasping breath he immediately heaves up a mouthful of bile. He’s so hot. He’s never been so hot in his life. His chest is tight with it, his breath is shallow.

He knows he needs to get to the bathroom, but the minute he pushes himself up with trembling arms, the world spins, and he vomits again. God, his stomach. He moans and forces himself out of bed, and quickly finds he’s way too weak and dizzy to stand. He nearly faints before catching himself on the bedframe. Somehow, he finds his way to the bathroom and falls hard to his knees before leaning over the toilet and heaving again.

The cold of the tile almost hurts his fevered skin. It feels raw, just like his throat. His chin is sticky with drying vomit, and he peels off his shirt. When his hand goes to touch his cramping middle he can't hold back the whimper that escapes. It's so tender - the touch feels like a stab. He also can feel that he’s very, very bloated. The normally concave expanse of his abs is jutting out from his hips, puffy and aching. The waistband of his shorts presses uncomfortably into the swell, and combined with the pressure of his touch, it makes him retch.

In between heaves he can’t hold his head up, so he slumps against the toilet bowl, forehead on the cold porcelain rim.

Sweat drips from the tip of his nose on the floor below him. His breath is gasping in and out, and he's not sure whether he's shaking with fever or sheer exertion.

“Seamus!” He calls as loudly as his voice will let him, which isn’t very loud at all. It's cracked and thin. In that moment he remembers Seamus isn’t here. The thought wrenches a sob from him.

God, he’s so pathetic. A quivering mess, crying for his boyfriend, vomit on his chin. There are a few minutes of respite where he just sits there trying to catch his breath, chest jumping up and down, praying for relief from the fever and the throbbing in his skull. Praying it’s almost… What time is it? What time did Seamus leave?

Before he can think much harder on it, he’s vomiting again. There's only bile now, nothing else is left in his stomach. But once the bile is gone, it doesn’t stop. It’s wringing him out. He’s dry heaving until he’s too weak to. He’s still dripping sweat. It burns his eyes, stings his chapped lips.

He needs to get his phone. He needs to call Seamus. It has to have been two hours by now - it feels like he’s been in this bathroom for 5. But it can’t have been, because Seamus would be back.

The bedroom. His phone is in the bedroom.

He’s no stranger to being this sick, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

He stumbles back down the hall, having to stop and lean against the wall every few steps when his lightheadedness is too much to handle.

He gets the phone. His hands are shaking so badly he almost drops it. He taps Seamus's perfect, smiling photo. Immediately, he hears his voicemail message - "Hey, it's Seamus. I don't really check my voicemail so just shoot me a text! Thanks." There's a dial tone, and Theo hangs up. He calls again. The phone is sticking to the side of his face. Same thing.

This is a nightmare. It has to be. He looks at the time. It's after 10, Seamus should've been home by 8.

Theo is slumped on the floor, back against the wall, just trying to breathe evenly enough to avoid throwing up any more than he already has. The last bout of vomiting had quelled the nausea slightly, but it's back, despite him still not having anything in his stomach to purge. His mouth is dry and sour but the thought of even rinsing it out makes his stomach churn.

He opens his texts. It takes a long time to type a message. It's riddled with typos but his hands are shaking too badly to do any better. It's something along the lines of "where are you? i need you". Normally he wouldn't be so direct, but he's desperate.

Then the world is spinning, spinning, spinning. And then he’s asleep.

Every extra minute Seamus is sitting at this table he's nervous. But, he reminds himself for the thousandth time, Theo would've called if something was wrong. He's probably asleep. His phone has been silent all night, tucked in the pocket of his coat where it hangs from the back of his chair. He's glanced at it a few times, but nothing's come through.

Still, he promised Theo two hours. It's been four. And even if he leaves now, it'll be four and a half.

He's glad he came though. As much as it would've gone just fine without him, he has way more experience dealing with execs than Kelly does. Zeke even flew in from New York. The meeting started at a restaurant in the city and migrated to some random pub a few doors down after the execs were on their way.

At about 11 he goes to the bathroom and grabs his phone as an afterthought. There are absolutely no notifications, which seems strange.

Upon closer examination, he sees it's set to "do not disturb." He definitely did not set it to "do not disturb." He stops in the doorway of the bathroom as he sees the notifications flood in. 6 missed calls. Five unread texts. All from Theo. He has to stop himself from sprinting back to get his coat. He's immediately in panic mode.

Kelly, Zeke and a few other acquaintances from the label look up from their conversation.

"Whoa, what's up?" Zeke asks as Seamus throws on his coat with shaking hands.

"I just - It's an emergency," he manages to say. Zeke furrows his eyebrows but doesn't protest. Kelly huffs.

"Seamus, please. He can take care of himself," she says, and he freezes in place. Zeke looks very confused now.

"Theo?" Zeke interjects, but Seamus doesn't bother responding.

"I told him I'd be home at 8 and it's 11 and he's been trying to call me since 10. I don't know why my phone…" He trails off. He can barely think straight. Kelly crosses her arms and looks at Zeke, whose lips are pressed into a line. "What?"

"Well, we agreed it'd be best if there weren't any distractions," Kelly says. Seamus isn't someone who ever really gets angry, per se, but he's angry right now. Furious. But everyone is staring at him now, and it'll only look unprofessional if he loses his shit. He turns his gaze to Zeke, who looks extremely guilty.

"I didn't know something was wrong, I-" He starts and Seamus clenches his jaw. He starts to stammer out a reply before realizing that every minute he spends here is one minute he's wasting.

"I'll see you guys Monday," he says, trying to keep his voice as even as possible, ignoring the shouts of his name as he leaves.

He tries to call Theo. It rings, but there's no answer. He calls again. Still nothing. He's going about 20 over the speed limit, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. When he walks into the house he doesn't even bother taking off his coat or shoes.

"Theo?" He calls. No answer. He knows logically that Theo's not dead, but the panic in his chest does not seem to know that.

He stops in the doorway of the bedroom. Theo's on the floor, half curled up, shaking like a leaf. Seamus is frozen for a moment before he rushes to him.

Theo's skin is hot - so ungodly fucking hot - and so incredibly pale. Seamus shakes his shoulder lightly, and though Theo moans softly, he doesn't open his eyes.

"Teddy?" Seamus asks, running his hand up and down Theo's arm. Theo's eyelids flutter, and another small sound of pain escapes his chapped lips. Seamus taps his cheek gently. "Teddy, baby."

Theo's eyes finally open, only halfway but enough for Seamus to know he's conscious. When his gaze lands on Seamus's face he lets out a sobbing breath.

"Shh, you're ok," Seamus murmurs, trying to keep his voice steady. He lifts Theo so he's sitting upright, almost all his weight on Seamus. His forehead rests on Seamus's shoulder, his breathing shallow and labored through sobs. He smells like vomit and sweat, and his hands are immediately clinging to Seamus's shirt. "I’m gonna lift you up, alright?"

Theo doesn't reply, but Seamus wasn't necessarily asking for permission.

He maneuvers Theo's limp body so he can pick him up, and tries to ignore the spike of panic when all of his body is pressed against him. He's on fire, trembling, letting out little whimpers of pain at every movement. Theo doesn’t cry like this. Ever. And it’s making Seamus very nervous.

He's glad he works out enough to squat 250, because Theo is only a little over half that. He doesn't bother trying to get his shorts off before placing him in the bathtub, his long legs bent in the small space. Seamus turns on the water and rummages to find the thermometer.

Theo doesn't even make a sound as the cold water hits his skin, and doesn't even seem to notice when Seamus slips the thermometer under his tongue. As the water rises and he waits for the thermometer to do its job, the guilt really starts to set in.

He should've been here. Instead, he was out at a bar, drinking and laughing and assuming everything was fine. He should have noticed his phone was fucked up, he should've left when he said he would. He doesn't know how bad the fever is exactly, but he would wager a guess that it's really fucking bad. Odds are all the vomiting made him dehydrated, which made his fever worse, which made the nausea worse, and around and around until they got here.

He takes one of Theo's limp hands, and with the other, calls Zeke. It's only a ring or two before he picks up.

"What's up?" He asks, and Seamus suddenly feels like he might cry.

"I think I need to take him to A&E." His voice is shaking.

"The-" He cuts Zeke off before he can finish.

"The ER."

"Ok, ok. Uh…" Zeke trails off, clearly flustered. The background noise of the bar softens and a door closes. Seamus cuts in again.

"Do we have anyone here who could come give an IV?" In New York, Theo has people who'll come to wherever he is and give him the basics without having to go to the actual hospital, but Seamus has no idea what's at their disposal in Ireland. He kicks himself for not thinking to find out before now.

"Uh, I can check. I'll call around. Maybe. Is he-"

"I might be able to get it- get the fever down, but he's really dehydrated, so…" Seamus trails off. "You have people here, right?"

"I mean, yeah. In theory. It's just-"

"Just find out what's faster. I can drive him to A&- the ER, or someone can come here. Either way, just find out what's quicker, ok?"

"Ok. I'll call you back in a few, just hang tight." He doesn't hang up just yet. "And I'm sorry, I never would've let Kelly have your phone if I knew what was going on."

"Well she shouldn't have my phone anyway."

"Right."

"Yeah. Just call me back when you know, ok?"

"Ok, hang tight."

The line goes dead and Seamus checks his watch before taking the thermometer out of Theo's mouth. 40.5. He stares at the reading for longer than he needs to, feeling the panic in his chest spike.

Theo’s eyelids are fluttering now, and the hand Seamus is holding tightens around his.

“Oh my God…” Theo breathes out, his voice ragged and thin. “Fuck.”

“You’re ok, you’re ok,” Seamus says, and dips his hand in the cool water before laying it on Theo’s forehead. A towel or washcloth would work better, but he can’t make himself move from this spot.

“Shay, I…” he murmurs, before trailing off, “I had the worst nightmare.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he says back gently, wiping Theo’s chin. It’s taking so much effort to maintain this facade of calm, but he knows if he starts to freak out, it’ll only make things worse.

“I…In my dream…I kept calling you and calling you,” he mumbles, and Seamus is immediately sick to his stomach with guilt. “But you wouldn’t answer. And I was alone.”

It takes everything in him to speak around the lump in his throat.

"I'm here now," is all he manages to choke out. He can't bring himself to lie outright. He'll need to come clean eventually, but not now when Theo's still half delirious. "You've had your appendix out, right?"

Theo nods.

"Burst. In college.” Despite the cold water, Theo doesn't seem to be getting any cooler. He's not even shivering.

He's gathering Theo's hair into a little bun when Zeke calls him back.

“What did they say?” He asks, and Zeke sighs.

“They have people in Dublin, but they wouldn't be able to make it to you until tomorrow morning. I could call you a car but I think it'd just be faster for you to drive him in. If you feel like that's what he needs.”

It's a horrible drive. Then a horrible night.

When they drive home the next morning, Theo's still running a fever, but it's not as bad as it was. The insides of his arms and the backs of his hands are bruised - he was so dehydrated they had to jab him about ten times to find a vein for the IV.

He's able to walk inside from the car, which is a major improvement, but he collapses on the couch as soon as he walks in.

“I'm gonna make some tea, alright?” Seamus asks, carefully stroking some of his hair back from his face. Theo just nods, closing his eyes.

As he makes the tea, he knows he needs to tell him. Not today. No, he’ll wait, he thinks, and tries to convince himself it's for Theo’s benefit. He doesn't quite manage.

#my writing #whump #sickfic #illness kink #oc theo #oc seamus #fever #emeto

[hisokakissmeplz]

Can I please request a hisoka hc where they are having an argument and he's being petty. Smut and lime after please .

bet make up sex (this has been in my drafts far too long)

"What the fuck Hisoka?"

"What?"

He doesn't even look up at you. Hisoka instead continues building his card house on the coffee table.

"why throw your clothes on the floor when the hampers right there?"

He does this all the time, dumb things just to piss you off. Like throw his laundry next to the hamper instead of in it.

"you're being dramatic."

God he knew how to push your buttons.

"no I'm not, it's not that hard to just put them in the basket instead of making me pick them up off the floor."

He rolled his eyes as he put the top two cards on his card house and ignored you.

You were tired of it.

You walked over to him, on the opposite side of the coffee table. With the slight nudge of your leg against the coffee table, his card house tumbled in front of him.

He leaned back on the couch, looking up at you annoyed. God he was so handsome, you couldn't let that distract you.

"We're being petty now?"

His eyes flickering up to yours from under long eyelashes.

"we already were."

You retorted fast, not moving from your spot as you glared down at him.

He stood up, his eyes now flickering down to remain eye contact. Crossing his arms, he sighed.

"Why put my clothes away when I have you?"

That pissed you off even more.

"I'm not your maid."

"Your words, not mine."

He walked out of the room and into the kitchen, leaning on the counter. He watched as you followed him in there.

"I'm tired of this, why do you always pick fights with me?"

He smirked at you, his golden eyes still glued to you.

"it tickles me."

He never took anything seriously, always trying to play the high card. He always had to be on top, always the better one.

"Shut up." You scoffed. "You asked a question." He retorts.

"It was rehtorical." You sighed, resting your hands on your hips. "I'm serious, why are you even with me if all you wanna do is fight?"

Something changed in his face at that, quickly recovering though.

"that's not all we do."

You look at him, waiting for him to make his argument.

"we fuck too."

That was it. You stormed out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, slamming the door and locking it.

You sat on the bed, feeling the anger boil up in you and trying to calm yourself down when you heard his footsteps through the hallway.

"baby,"

"Don't 'baby' me."

You hated how your voice sounded, you could hear how upset you were, your voice almost cracking.

"just open the door."

You almost did, deciding against so you could be alone.

"Baby, open the door." You didn't answer. "I'm serious, open the door."

His voice has soften the longer you were silent. You stood up, stretching your legs and taking a deep breath.

"baby let me in, please." You could hear him sigh against the door, you almost rolled your eyes until you hear him whisper. "I'm sorry."

It wasn't definite and you weren't sure he had actually said it. You decided anyways to unlock the door.

He opens it fast and grabs onto you, pulling you by the hips against him.

You keep your arms crossed, scoffing at his action.

He smirks again, leaning down to kiss you. You turn your head as his lips meet your cheek instead.

He frowns, his face scrunching a little as he looks down at you.

You pull away from him and head into the bathroom, wiping your cheek as you walk.

That pisses him off and you know it.

He follows you in there, wrapping his arms around you again from behind. He rest his chin on your shoulder looking at you in the mirror.

The silence is killing you.

"you can't just hug up on me and think everything is fine."

"let me make it up to you then"

You scoff at his implication.

"and not be able to sit down tomorrow, why bother."

He sighs against your shoulder, pressing kisses back up to your neck.

"Why are you being so difficult?" He purrs in that deep husky voice that makes your knees weak. "Let me apologize my way, hm?"

His hands come up to your chest, he's being gentle though. You can feel his dick already straining against his pants as it presses against your back.

You sigh, he had a way with you, the arousal begining to pool at you core. His hands working deftly to pull you out of your top.

"Let me show you why I'm with you, why you keep coming back to me."

Hisoka spins you around, lowering his head to presses kisses to your chest as he hands undo your bra. Without hesitation he takes your nipple into his mouth, one hand tracing around to pinch and squeeze the other.

You try to muffle the moan you feel but it's useless when sucks extra hard on the nipple to force it out of you.

He picks you up, taking you out of the bathroom and laying you on the bed.

He pulls down your pants, his lips peppering kisses all up your thighs.

"Still mad?" He asks, his tone lustful and raspy.

You nod, annoyed with his attitude but not wanting to stop the inevitable. His hands pull your hips over the edge of the bed, his warm breath hitting your core through your now soaked panties.

"She doesn't look very mad, bunny."

He's teasing you, testing your patience because he knows you won't stop him, not when his mouth is so dangerously close to your sopping pussy.

He licks a long stripe over the wet fabric.

"Come on now, don't be so quiet."

He slides his finger over your clit, rubbing slow circles through your panties.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back any sounds but he's just too good, a soft broken whine leaving your lips, encouraging him to speed up his ministrations.

He stops, standing up over you as his hands pull off your panties, probably pocketing them for later.

He leans up to kiss you, his mouth wet from your cunt, but before he can press into you you stop him with a hand on his chest.

"I don't think you deserve it."

You say with newfound strength and confidence.

"there she is, missed my mean girl."

He smirks but the serious look in your eye stops him.

"what, you want me to beg?"

He purrs into your ear, and as tempting as the offer sounds you decline.

"just the tip, that's all you get."

"aw, don't be so unfair, I promise I'll be good."

"just the tip, or nothing."

He huffs, but relents. Slowly, he slides just his pretty pink tip into you.

He groans into your shoulder, wanting desperately to take you fully.

He smirks up at you, and as you look up at him puzzled, you feel the aura tighten around your wrist and pull your hands up to the head board.

"Hisoka-"

"yes?" He purrs innocently as he slides the rest of his dick into you, kissing your cervix. You can't help the moan that leaves your mouth, glaring at him.

"don't be like that, let me take care of you bunny."

#hisoka #hisoka morow #hunter x hunter #hisoka morrow x reader #hisoka morrow #hisoka x reader #hisoka hxh #hisoka hunter x hunter #hisoka hcs #hisoka smut

[demonrubberduck]

MinaxJonathan, knife, waiting for the Czarina Catherine while Mina is gradually changing more and more

His and Hers Knives

(Summary: PG-13 for mentions of suicide and a swear

Jonathan has knives for Dracula, or for anyone else who might try to separate him from Mina, and Mina has a knife of her own.)

The gentle scrape of blade upon whetstone did not awaken Mina. It was a quiet, soothing sound, though Jonathan doubted even the passing by of a circus could rouse her from her slumber before she was ready. Regardless, he tried to keep quiet while she slept, and he doubted this sound would have even bothered her before she’d been bitten.

Not that he was the sort to sharpen knives in the wee hours, before. Much had changed in the past few months. He wasn’t the same man who had set out on a train to Buda-Pesth and beyond for an ailing Mr. Hawkins.

A few more strokes had his kukri knife razor sharp. He set it aside and drew another knife, a Bowie, from a sheath within his waistcoat. He wet the stone, then began sharpening its blade. 

He kept four knives on his person, these days. The kukri was the most obvious. It was the statement, and the other concealed blades whatever punctuation it required. Let it not be said that Jonathan Harker wasn’t communicative.

He sharpened the Bowie, then his boot knife, and finally the curved karambit. This had become his nightly ritual, almost a knightly ritual, as he watched over Mina’s unnatural slumber. Dracula had come upon her in their bedchamber. Never again. Though Dracula was far away, concealed in the bowels of the Czarina Catherine, Jonathan still kept his vigil.

It wasn’t only for Dracula that he sharpened his blades. Van Helsing and Seward’s eyes were ever on Mina, assessing her sluggish pulse and her sharpening teeth and that terrible burned mark upon his pale forehead. If they could not hunt down and destroy Dracula to free Mina’s soul, they would come for her.

And if they did, they would find Jonathan. 

There would have to be a strategy to the order in which he addressed them, he knew. If they brought Godalming and Morris along, they would have to be dealt with first, though he’d have to be wary of Seward’s right hook if his phonograph entries were to be believed. Van Helsing would be last. Though his brain was the biggest threat to Mina’s continued existence, his body was slow and frail with age, and with the others gone, he would be easy to dispatch.

“Jonathan.”

If the two doctors came alone, that would be better. They might, if they underestimated Jonathan’s devotion to Mina. Then he could silence them, and catch Morris and Godalming unawares. 

“Jonathan.”

It wouldn’t be easy to take a life, but he could steel himself for Mina’s sake. A man had to protect his wife. ‘Til death do us part,’ what weak resolve was that? He would be hers beyond death, beyond ‘un-death’.

“Jonathan!” Chill hands and an insistent voice drew him from his dark thoughts, and he finally blinked and saw that Mina had awoken and taken his hands in her own around the hilt of his kukri, which he must have picked back up at some point of his musings. Mina’s hands looked ethereally pale against his.

“My love, where were you?” she asked. Here she was, so sickly pale, yet worried about him. He shook his head.

“Lost in thought.” He put the knife down so he could take her hands properly. “I’m sorry.”

She kissed him, just a chaste press of lip to lip. They had not known each other as husband and wife since she’d been bitten. Mina felt herself unclean, and though Jonathan thought her still as pure and holy as an angel, he would not press her into couplings she did not enthusiastically welcome. These light touches would suffice him. 

“I fear I’ll be asleep again soon. Come lie by me, while we still have time.”

Jonathan sat his kukri on the bedside table and joined Mina in bed. She pulled something from beneath her pillow and pressed it into his hands.

It was another knife, in a leather sheath, its handle wrapped in a black ribbon tied securely in a knot.

“I asked Mr. Morris to get me a blade. It’s a fine one, isn’t it?” Mina motioned for Jonathan to unsheath it.

He drew it out. It was a simple boning blade, thin and straight, almost delicate, especially when compared to his kukri. Jonathan ran his finger along the flat of the blade, then against the silk ribbon-wrapped hilt.

“I see you decorated it.” 

Mina smiled at him. “Yes, it’s silly, but I wanted to make it my own. Will you show me how to sharpen it?”

Jonathan nodded. There was nothing he could deny her, except… except that which she’d asked at her ‘funeral’. 

“In the daylight hours, when you’re more awake,” he promised. He slid it back into its sheath and handed it back to her.

“Good. I need it to be sharp.”

“God be willing, you’ll never get close enough to Dracula or any other enemy to need a sharp knife,” he said. He reached over and picked up the kukri. “That’s what this is for.”

She smiled again, lips closed. All of her smiles were like that, these days. Hiding her teeth, fearing the day they became fangs. 

“I know it is. Each thing has its purpose, Jonathan. This knife is not for him. It’s for… it’s for me.”

Her voice caught, and Jonathan looked up at her sharply.

“No,” he said. He reached over to take the knife from her, but she drew it away and cradled it to her breast. He could have wrested it away from her, but he couldn’t bear to handle her so harshly, so he drew back, letting her keep the little blade.

“Listen to me, husband,” she pleaded. “I can feel myself changing. I am clinging to the same hope we all are, but… but we must be ready, in case that hope fails.”

“That is what the kukri is for,” he said again. “If we cannot be together as man and wife, then I will serve you as your protector and thrall, and keep away any who would harm you. You can have my blood, my body, my life. As long as we’re together, I don’t care about anything else!”

“But I do!” Mina’s voice rose to match his own in volume and passion. “Perhaps you could find it in your heart to love me as a vampire, but I could not love myself. I must be human, or else I must be a corpse. If you love me, listen to me.”

Jonathan loved her, and so he listened. He forced his hand to release the white-knuckled grip on the kukri’s handle.

“Go on, then,” he whispered.

She nodded, and her eyes shone with tears as she continued.

“I borrowed a book on anatomy from Dr. Seward to be sure. This little blade should be long enough to pierce a heart. If Dracula escapes us and the transformation is upon me, I want you to…”

A sob interrupted her, and she swallowed hard. “I want you to use it on me. I’m very afraid, but I think if it’s such a thin blade, and if it’s plenty sharp and in the hands of someone I love… I think, then, that I could bear it.”

Jonathan couldn’t hold back his tears at the thought of that, and both of them took each other by the hand, crying. 

“A-and I would w-want you to go on with your life, and find happiness, but…”

“Without you? There could never be such a thing,” Jonathan interrupted. 

Mina nodded, and wiped a hand at her eyes. “I know, my love. And if that be the case, then, this knife can be for you as well.”

Jonathan drew her into his arms. “Thank you, my dearest. Thank you.” Her words delivered to him such profound relief that he hasn’t known since she’d arrived by his side at the Hospital of Saint Joseph and Saint Mary in Budapesh to marry him. He could face whatever peril, so long as at the end of it, he ended up where she was, be it heaven, hell, or their home in Exeter.

“It’ll be romantic, in a way,” Mina said, head nestled into his shoulder, her tears beginning to soak through his nightshirt. “Our hearts’ blood, mingled together on one blade. Together to the end.”

Jonathan nodded. “I c-can draw up our wills, that we will be buried together, in the same coffin, with this knife laid beside us if you’d like.”

He felt her nod against his neck. His wonderful, perfect bride and her obsession with the macabre. How he adored her.

They held each other until their tears had all been shed, and then Jonathan wiped first her eyes, then his own with his handkerchief. 

Mina’s eyelids began to sink lower, her pulse slowing. She yawned, but made barely a sound. 

“I fear… I cannot stay awake much longer….” 

Jonathan lowered her down onto the bed. “Sleep, love.”

He tucked her in, and took his seat once more. Now he had five knives to sharpen during his vigil. He held the kukri in his right hand, the little boning knife in his left, considering both. Dracula would die, or the Harkers would. 

He raised the kukri up, admiring the deadly sharp edge of the blade. It would be Dracula or the Harkers, and they knew where Dracula fucking slept.

#dracula daily #dracula spoilers #drabble #jonmina #cw: mention of suicide #jonathan harker #mina harker #jonathan harker can say 'fuck' as a treat