“The slight breath that he takes before he says “Louis Tomlinson…its mutual we discussed it” and then the smile that spreads across his cheeks reminds me of “Not that important”. The sigh isn’t as pronounced, but the facial expressions parallel one another and that hurts a lot.“
alec likes to kiss magnus’ cheek, and his mouth, but most of all he likes to press a delicate, fluttering kiss to his eyelids before they go to sleep. magnus likes to kiss alec’s forehead, his hair, the base of his neck and the mole on his shoulder.
one morning they’re lying together, the sun and their happiness making them glow. magnus turns on his side to watch alec’s face, watch his eyes flicker as he blinks, watch him breathing. he loves him.
“I want to marry you,” magnus says softly. alec turns to him, presses a hand to his face, smiles that big smile that only magnus has seen.
“then do it,” alec whispers, and magnus turns his head to kiss alec’s palm, the back of his hand, his ring finger.
He stood by the window, watching the guests fill in and find their seats. He felt fine, until that moment. It was so real all of a sudden. He was really getting married.
He wondered what she was doing. Was she in her dress already? Was she just as nervous? He knew in that moment that he had to see her. Or at least hear her voice. Know that she was alright.
He quietly slipped out of the room and down the hall to to room he knew she was getting ready in. He stood outside for a minute, listening to the quiet music and voices coming from inside. He took a deep breath and lightly rapped on the door.
She stuck her head outside the door and gave him a wide eyed look. “You’re not supposed to see me,” she whispered with a small, shy smile. He couldn’t see the dress, but she looked beautiful with her hair swept up and he couldn’t help but reach out and gently touch her cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “but I needed to see you."
He gave her an apologetic look and she smiled brightly.
He gave her a small kiss on the cheek before he turned around and headed down the stairs to the garden filled with their family and friends. He walked slowly to the altar, a wave of peace coming over him as the music changed and the bridesmaids came toward him.
The music changed again and the breath hitched in his throat as he finally saw her in the beautiful white gown, smiling at him.
He felt the tears well up in his eyes as she came closer, their eyes only for each other. In that moment, all the nerves disappeared as he reached for her hand and listened to the officiant and announced them husband and wife.
If they are indeed together, they probably aren't ready to announce it publicly due to obvious pr reasons (PM being still married, etc). That's why they capped the leak after the Page 6 article. But ppl in showbiz probably know and don't care, that's why they attend events together. That leaves open the Q why G doesn't look happy, but it might be due to the same reasons (that they can't make a proper announcement so it feels like they are hiding). Just a guess. Or maybe he just has bad breath.
Okay, I think it’s time to stop with this excuse or the show coming out theory. If you believe they’re together, it’s fine, but at this point you have to also believe they’re out. They’re not hiding. They were in plain sight yesterday. They’re not slowly coming out, there’s nothing slow in whatever they’re doing.
The reasons why I still don’t believe they’re together are because they don’t look like it, they keep being seen at professional events and seem to be linked professionally, it’s always his events, never hers, and last but not least, I believe she’s with David.
I’m sure we will get an explanation sooner or later, but as long as he keeps not showing up at one of her event and they keep not looking like they want to stand next to one another, I’ll have a hard time believing they’re together.
I asked her out six times in thirty seconds. She said yes after the third one but none of them felt right so I had to keep going. On our first date I spent more time organizing my food by color than I did eating it. Or fucking talking to her. But she loved it. She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times, or twenty-four times if it was Wednesday. (…) When we moved in together, she said she felt safe. Like no one would ever rob us because I //definitely// locked the door. (…) Now, I just think about who else is kissing her. I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once. He doesn’t care if it’s perfect! I want her back so bad– I leave the door unlocked. I leave the lights on.
It was probably the only really meaningful gift from her
father in recent times. It wasn’t much — just a tiny little demon plushie. It
could have easily been lost in thousands of other dresses and jewellery that he
had also sponsored for her.
Had it not been for the fact the toy was a small reminder of
happier times. And of her parents’ love.
One of her fondest childhood memories were of when they
would all cuddle together in bed while her mother told stories. In particular,
one of a tiny demon that saved lost little kids, only to be misunderstood by
the children’s parents when they saw him with them. Her father would supply the
dialogues for the angry people, while her mother would do those for the little
children and the demon.
Lucy felt for the demon, and protested, insisting that she
would have done her best to protect it had she had the chance. Her mother had
been so pleased with the suggestion, that she would weave a Lucy into the story
to do just that - and she would get to do her own dialogues. And they would go
on and on until Jude reminded them of it being past bedtime.
Storytime had been her favourite way to spend time with her
family - it was the one time her father and mother could take a break from
their royal duties and spend time with her.
Her mother’s sudden loss had been very hard on her and her
father, and his subsequent attempts to cope had really dented their
relationship. Lucy, now at sixteen years, still couldn’t remember the last time
she and her father had really spoken.
The plushie, gifted to her on her tenth birthday, two years
after losing her mother, was a small reminder that despite all the evidence
that went against it, her father really did care.
She had taken extremely good care of the soft toy ever
since. It had a special place beside her pillow at night-time and was the last
thing she saw when she went to bed and the first when she woke up. She would
talk to it every day — share tales of her day, people she met, things she
learnt. She would laugh with it and cry holding it. It was her closest friend,
and had been for years now.
Even if it never had it replied back.
Not till right now anyway.
Lucy, the ever graceful celestial princess of Magnolia, fell
rather clumsily on her bum when it — he — suddenly spoke.
“Woah, there! You okay?” came the tiny voice again, as the
now animated toy (person?) leaned over the bed to ensure she was okay.
“Hell yeah I am!” he grinned. “Finally.”
“B-b-but you’re a toy!”
“Oi, I’m a demon!“ His face tilted to one side.
"And you’ve always told me you’re a polite person. Lies!”
Lucy blinked disbelievingly, as the little toy crossed his
arms and huffed.
She crawled on her knees back to the edge of her bed to peek
at the toy, see for herself if he really was…real.
And while the demon kept his back to her, pouting sulkily,
she brought a finger to poke him in the side.
“Hey,” he warned.
“Hey!” His back still faced her.
“Would you— ” he got cut off as Lucy — in a bid to try and
confirm once more that felt had indeed given way to flesh — unintentionally
began tickling him.
“S-sorry,” she said, not really that sorry. His laughter was
“Oh, you’re gonna pay,” he said, once he’d caught his
“And what are you going to do about it?” Lucy challenged.
He pouted again and Lucy couldn’t help but giggle.
“I didn’t intend to tickle you, if that
helps,” she added.
“You’re mean, Luce,” he grumbled.
Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Luce?”
“Well yeah, that’s what I’ve always called you,” he said,
rolling away to make room for Lucy to climb and sit on her bed.
“You were listening the whole time?” she asked in wonder.
Hi! Sorry this took so long to get done! I wrote this with a splitting headache so I’m sorry if it doesn’t seem like my best work. Someone else also asked for #70 with Noct or Nyx so obviously I had to choose Nyx … blame the anon who gave me him as one of the options!
This is something of a continuation of THIS. I hope you enjoy.
“RISE AND SHINE, SWEET THING.”
Nyx Ulric x Reader
“Damnit,” Nyx tried to catch the tray before it clattered to the kitchen floor but only succeeded in making more noise. “Fuck it,” he breathed as he leaned over to pick it up from the floor, “Try to surprise her and at this rate, all you’ll do is terrify her.” He placed the tray back on the worktop and set about emptying out the other bags he’d brought with him. He knew all about your sweet tooth and after a week spent on warp class duty, he figured that you could use a bit of a pick-me-up. Cupcakes, cheesecake slices, home baked chocolate cake and all from your favourite bakery soon covered the island in your kitchen as he set about fixing you a very, very sweet treat. He had let himself in with your spare key and before long, he had the cakes arranged on the tray, taking care not to drop the thing on the floor this time, and he had a pot of Ebony brewing.
You and Pelna had spent your week putting the recruits through their paces, Drautos seeing fit to torture you. Not that you minded spending time with Pelna, he was a good friend, but the after-effects of hours of warping definitely had you beat. Best thing was, the captain saw fit to assign you to those same classes until you could train yourself not to have such an adverse reaction to hours upon hours of warping. It wouldn’t be so bad if Nyx had the same assignment but, in true Drautos fashion, he’d changed Nyx’s assignment at the last minute and so you’d been left to suffer without the comfort of your partner’s presence. The least he could do, he thought, was to treat you before he had to be back on duty.
In this life, she still sleeps with a gun in her bedside drawer. She still has contingency plans for the best escape routes should everything go south. She’s still in the business of protecting.
But this time, it is all for one man.
She watches Phil sleep sometimes, lightly snoring, a little bit of drool staining the pillow - his breaths steady. He’s safe, next to her, for now. Her job is dangerous - she could be hurt, die, and she doesn’t want that for him.
He’s a civilian. A history teacher. Not a pawn in a world filled with spies and secrets. He deserves to be safe, away from harm, away from pain.
She will always protect him.
Part of her wonders how she even fell for a man like this in the first place - they’re nothing alike. She spends her time flying around the world, crossing people off, and he’s a high school teacher who knows nothing of the horrors that she sees on a daily basis.
He makes things easier.
She loved him from the moment she first met him. Neither of them could explain why - like they had a deeper connection than was possible - like they were destined to be together no matter what world they lived in.
Neil knows he’s doing better, doing well even, but there are still nights he wakes suddenly, icy fear coursing through him. And it doesn’t stop when he sees the black-clad person laying beside him.
Everything at evermore was black. The walls, the floors, the sheets, the clothes. Riko always wore black. Always.
The glint of Andrew’s blonde hair in the moonlight usually helps to soothe the panic until he can wrestle it back inside his chest again but it kills him a little more every time his brain forces him to associate Andrew’s black clothes in the dead of night with Riko and everything he’d done.
Andrew wakes up one of these nights, lashing out in instinct, but the anger in his eyes melts into focus when he sees Neil hunched over, breathing raggedly. He clicks on the light, positioning his face in Neil’s line of sight but doesn’t touch him.
He listens, sharp and intuitive, and only has to hear Neil’s gasped, “Riko….black,” and he puts the pieces together.
Andrew talks him down, helps him breathe steadily. Andrew whispers soft words against Neil’s hair and cradles the back of his neck gently, until they’re both ready to brave sleeping again.
The next morning, Andrew skips classes. Neil’s brightest orange fox hoodie is missing, and Andrew’s scrawl on a scrap of paper informs him he’ll be back later. He returns late in the afternoon and stalks in with an armload of bags. He slams the door to the bathroom and reemerges five minutes later.
His pack of cigarettes is missing from his bedside table, so he heads to the roof. Neil is there, (‘predictable’ part of Andrew’s mind whispers, while another part insists 'home’) breathing in cigarette smoke and staring at the sky.
Andrew sits down next to him without a word. Neil’s breath catches when he turns and sees Andrew. He clears his throat. “Yes or no?” he asks quietly.
“Yes,” Andrew says, and that’s all the words they need for this moment.
Neil says 'thank you’ with the kisses pressed to his lips. He says 'it means everything to me’ in the way he cards his hands through Andrew’s hair. 'you didn’t have to’ with his forehead pressed against Andrew’s.
'Yes I did,’ Andrew answers him with a kiss, both firm and gentle.
The rest of the foxes don’t understand why Andrew has swapped his entire monochrome wardrobe for obnoxious neons. Neil does, and when he wakes from a nightmare, bright green or lighting yellow, electric blue or hot pink greets him, and never suffocating black.
A/N: this is so dark and twisted, and if you hate that, please don’t read on. but this is yoonseok - in the most twisted kind of love, or maybe addiction; and this is for my bb @dearmyjimin, my chunky @yoohnseok, and whoever else that likes/loves yoonseok ♡ (p.s. i’ll apologise in advance ;~; you’ll know why when you read it)
Seokjin is taking longer than usual and Hoseok can feel himself getting antsy with each passing second. He almost breathes a sigh of relief when Seokjin stands, adjusting the stethoscope around his neck.
Hoseok watches from the corner of his eye as Seokjin strides to the door, Jimin by his side.
“I think it’s working,” he hears Seokjin say and Hoseok nearly scoffs in response. “Just keep a lookout for any signs of violence when you do your rounds tonight, Jimin.”
“We’ll start him on placebos” is what Seokjin had told Jimin a week ago, voice soft but distinct from across the room. As if Hoseok couldn’t hear every word with the lack of furniture to muffle the syllables; as if Hoseok didn’t know what that word meant, when barely half a year ago, they’d been in matching white coats, clipboards in hand as they made their rounds.
Hoseok sits by the tiny window that overlooks the woods in the distance. Seokjin would be so upset if he finds out his fake pills aren’t the ones making Hoseok feel better.
But that’s for another time, Hoseok thinks. He closes his eyes.
He sees a pale figure, his voice a slightly rough tenor as he sings. No one knows how beautiful his voice is, of course; no one except Hoseok. Hoseok, and the vast forests ahead, the accompanying cliff acting as their backdrop.
And perhaps Seokjin will never understand how Hoseok finds comfort replaying those finals seconds - Min Yoongi’s voice traveling through the night breeze, his eyes following the flight of a lone butterfly - before Hoseok pushed the man off the edge, into the darkness that accompanies the indigo skies.
(10:01pm; Min Yoongi’s fading screams resonate in Hoseok’s mind and he smiles.)
Shawn lets out a shaky breath as he kneels in front of her. He
can’t bring himself to look at her. He must look pathetic, kneeling, naked in
front of her, hard cock flushed red.
“Neglecting your health again? Not getting enough sleep? We
talked about this Shawn…” she chastises him, “Look at me.”
His eyes squeeze shut as shame wells up in him, his cheeks
flushing. A bead of precome drools down his cock. Disgraceful. A small, soft, unyielding hand grips the nape of his
neck, pulling harshly on his short locks of hair. A breathy moan leaves his
mouth as he is forced to look at her, his cheeks burning with humiliation.
“I said, look at me Shawn,“ she commands him, steel in her
voice. His eyes open, looking up at his goddess of a girlfriend. Her fingers,
buried in his curls, tighten their grip as she raises one eyebrow, suspicion in
her eyes. Oh god, she can’t find out. She pulls on his hair and his mouth opens
on a gasp, blood rushing to his cock. Shameful.
“Shawn… Do you like that?”
she asks him. He tries to look away, but her grip only tightens. He bites his
lip, trying desperately to contain the whimper of pleasure-pain.
“I asked you a question, boy. Do you like that?” The control in
her voice sears his skin, and a flush spreads down his chest.
“I - I don’t,” he stutters. Her disbelieving stare
embarrasses him all the more. She can’t know what a disgusting kink he has. How deeply disturbed he is. Disgraceful.
“Do not lie to me, pet. Your cock is dripping all over the
place.” Her matter of fact tone only adds to his embarrassment.
“I’m sorry love. I’ll leave, I promise just- don’t- please don’t
tell anyone?” he begs as he makes to get up, only to have her tiny fist tangle
in his hair and push him onto his knees again. He looks up at her, confusion
swirling inside him.
“You’re not going anywhere Shawn. I didn’t give you permission
to leave did I?” The velvet soft power of her voice turns his insides to
liquid. His mouth parts on a silent plead.
“Tell me what you like, pet.”
“Don’t.“ He corrects himself, “Please don’t.”
What was he
pleading for? For her to stop her torture or for her to continue the oh-so-good
humiliation? His cheeks are burning, probably permanently stained red.
“I like- “He starts biting his tongue as she pulls on his hair
again, bolts of pleasure shooting through his body. His eyes close as the
shameful delight of pain coats his bones with a comforting warmth.
“You love pain,” she states flatly, with no room for
argument. His eyes fly open, the warmth turning to ice, freezing him in place,
choking him with fear. Revolting.
Never would she be able to overlook the repulsive nature of his kink.
“Hey, hey, Shawn. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s a kink, it’s not
the end of the world.” Genuine concern and confusion glaze her voice as she
brings her hand under his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Darling what’s
wrong?” Love, concern and pain are in her eyes; there is no hate, no disdain,
no disgust. A sigh of relief rattles out of him as her thumb strokes his cheek
in soothing circles.
“It’s mo- I like it- It’s more than just pain,“ he
whispers. A fresh wave of red rushes to his cheeks at her questioning gaze.
“Maybe like- I think- uhm… humiliation,” he mumbles
hurriedly, punching the words out, leaving them hanging in the room.
“Be more specific, pet. I need to know exactly what you like so
that I know what to do,“ she answers. She’s kind and gentle and genuine;
he’s surprised and shocked that she wants to know more.
“Being told how needy I look… Biting, may- maybe scratching…”
His voice wavers as he lets the heavy words settle.
“What about me being completely in control?” she asks, in a
steady, soothing voice. He hesitates.
“Shawn.” He looks at her. Open, honest eyes beg him for the
“I might… like it… And- and powerplay.” His brown eyes search
her beautiful face for a trace of loathing. How could she simply be alright
“What else, baby?” Comforting fingers carding through his hair,
his heart rate finally slows just a bit. Thankfully she hasn’t run yet.
“Kneeling in front of you like this… completely naked while you
are still wearing your underwear.” He lets out, trying to breathe properly. His
courage sinks again as he realises he just confessed to all the nasty things he
had only ever thought.
“Shawn. I love you. That won’t change because of some kink you
have. I love you the way you are, pain kink and all. Do you trust me?” Her
bright bright eyes study him carefully.
“I do.” He leans into her hand as it cups his cheek. The feel of
his burning skin against her soft fingers calms the riot in his head.
“Good.” She takes a deep breath. “Now. I need to punish you for hiding
this from me,” she teases, a small smile playing around her lips. He gulps
as his cock hardens again. Her eyes drop to his crotch, chuckling at his quick
reaction. She stands up, moving behind him. He tries to look at her but her
hand tightening in his hair prevents it. Shawn feels her foot against his ass.
“Crawl towards the bed. Hands on the mattress.” Her controlled
voice raises goosebumps on his skin. He is pressed against the bed. Her hand
gently turns his head to the side and presses it forward into the mattress. Her
fingers leave his hair, trailing down the nape of his neck, across his back. He
fists the blanket, muscles bunching, trying to be as still as possible. Her
fingernails rake down his back and a surprised moan leaves his lips, his hips
“Now. That is a beautiful sound, pet,“ she whispers
appreciatively against his ear. She presses a little kiss above his ear and a
breath wheezes out of him.
“Please.” He manages to choke the word out as her nails dig
painfully, tantalizingly, into his
back. A whine tumbles from his mouth. Shawn feels her lips curving into a smile
against the shell of his ear. Precome dribbles from his cock, his eyes
squeezing shut as she murmurs words of praise against his skin.
“Open your eyes Shawn.” His eyes half lidded when he manages to
open them. Her right hand finds its way into his hair, twisting itself into the
curls and pulling his face up a little. Her left hand moves to his throat,
holding it in a comfortably tight grip. She tilts his head up, angling his face
towards her. His lips are parted, swollen from biting them as he looks at her.
Her left thumb presses into the plush flesh, his tongue hesitatingly licking
“My pretty boy,” she says, praise in her voice. Shawn
preens under her words. He sighs, digging his fingers deeper into the blanket.
“Come on. Up you go on the bed.” Her low command resonates
through his body. He scrabbles to his feet, lying down on the mattress, kicking
the blanket into the corner. He looks at her expectantly. She bites her lip,
trying to hide an amused smile.
“Grip the headboard for me,“ she orders as she pulls off
her panties, the motion torturously slow. “Now, this is your punishment.” She
unhooks her bra as she speaks. "You will not remove your hands from that
headboard. You will not touch me; I won’t restrain you.” Her breasts are
finally bare and he gulps, trying desperately to focus on her words. “If you
disobey, I will stop and I will get myself off on your thigh. And you have to
watch and stay hard and untouched. Do you understand pet?”
His hands fly to the headboard as he whimpers yes. She straddles him, her small
fingers wrapping around his cock. Her nails not so accidentally scratch lightly
down the length of it. His hands grip the bed, frantically trying to obey her
rules. A moan punches out of him as she leans forward, her left hand burying
itself into his shoulder muscles. Her nipples graze his heaving chest as she
kisses his neck. Teeth and tongue, pain and pleasure, mixing into one
breath-stealing combination. Whimpers and pleads tumble from his lips at his
hips buck into her fist. Her lips move down his throat, a patchwork of bruises
and bites blossoming on his skin. His back arches as she sucks a dark bruise
next to his Adam’s apple. She moves down the column of his neck, sucking one
more hickey at the base of throat.
“Mhm. All mine now,” she mumbles to herself, admiring her
work, hickeys and bites covering his neck. Marking him as hers. A moan of her
name spills from his mouth. His arms pulling at the headboard making it creak
under his strength. She shuffles up his body, her thighs on either side of his
face. His arms pressing into her soft skin, his fingers closing around the bars
of the headboard convulsively.
“Do you think you deserve it? Do you deserve to eat my pussy
Shawn?” She taunts him, his lips so so close to her.
“Yes, please- I’m good. I- please let me. Please let me make you
come.” He pleads her. His cheeks turn red at the desperation in his voice.
“Alright pet. You’ve been good,“ she acknowledges as she
lowers herself onto his mouth. His lips wrap around her clit, causing a shudder
to go through her body. He sucks on the bud, his teeth occasionally grazing
her, a sharp intake of breath her only response. He lets go of her clit,
licking her pussy, his tongue entering her. Sweet delicious wetness coats his
tongue. Her hand reaches into his hair, pulling on it as she rocks against his
face. Small moans of praise and his name are his reward. Thrusting into her, he
gets the most beautiful response from her. She throws her head back, tightening
her grip on his hair, moaning his name. He feels her walls tightening around
his tongue, his nose bumping against her pubic bone as she grinds on his face.
“Shawn. I’m-“ She moans as her orgasm takes her over. The hand
in his hair tenses further, her nails scratching against his scalp, sparks of
pain coursing down his spine. A strangled moan escapes him. She writhes on top
of him, the vibrations of his moan traveling up her spine.
She remains on his face for a minute longer, catching her
“You did great baby.” Her praise washes over him as she slowly
moves down his body stopping when her wet pussy is resting against his abs. A
tortured sigh leaves him at the feeling. She leans over him, reaching for the
bedside table. Her delicious scent wafts over him, riling him up further. The
tell-tale crinkling sound of the condom wrapper makes him turn his face into
his arm. Too much. He needs to think.
His eyes shoot open as he feels the latex glide down his shaft. God have mercy on him.
“You are doing wonderfully Shawn,” she tells him as she
slowly lifts herself up. His cock nudges against her pussy. She is going kill him. She slowly sinks
down onto him and his eyes roll back into his head. Her breath hitches almost
inaudibly as he finally bottoms out. Her nails scrape his abdomen, leaving red
scratches in their wake, his muscles tightening under her fingertips. She
starts moving in slow figure eights, grinding against his crotch. His cock in a
vice-like velvety grip. The wood creaks as he tightens his hold on the
headboard further. He throws his head back, burying it into the pillow. Her
hands digging into his flesh, bruising it delightfully, make moans fall freely
from his lips. He is begging her for mercy, for more, for more pain. She
rakes her nails down his torso, over his nipple, a loud whine punching out of
him. He turns his face away from her, hiding in his arm.
“No Shawn. None of that.” She grabs his chin, forcing him to
look at her. She bends forward, capturing his bottom lip between her teeth.
Slowly pulling on it, gently biting down on it, he can only whimper at the
excruciating pleasure of the pain. She rolls her hips forward, her walls
tightening around him. Her pubic bone grinds against his skin. Her fluttering
walls tense around him as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. He is so, so
“Please.” He begs her, struggling to get the word past his lips.
“Please what, pet?” she asks, rocking against him.
“Hurt me more,“ he pleads in a sigh, a fresh wave of heat
making his cheeks flush. How could he ask
She runs her nails across his nipple, pinching it between her
nails. His hips buck into her as her pussy clenches around him. Her right hand
travels up his torso as her left one remains firmly on his chest. She reaches
the base of his throat, his eyes closing in anticipation. Small fingers wrap
around his neck for the second time that night. Yes. He thrusts up into her as the pressure against his throat
“Let me- please. Let me come,” he begs, a blush spreading
down his chest.
“Come for me, pet,“ she murmurs under her breath. He tilts
his head back, his mouth dropping open as his orgasm washes over him. A
shattered moan punches out of him as he rides out his high. She rolls off of
him, letting them catch their breath. She discards of the used condom in the
bathroom, returning with a wet washcloth. She carefully cleans his face and his
“You?” He croaks out,
letting go of the headboard.
“Already did it in the bathroom darling.” She smiles at him
softly. A blush blossoms on his cheeks. How
can he ask her to hurt him? God. He’s despicable.
“Shawn. Stop right now.” She sits on his chest again, forcing
him to look at her. Her eyebrows furrow in anger and pain. He is revolting.
“Stop it, please. I love you the way you are Shawn! I couldn’t
care less if you had a pain kink! I would still be with you if you had a foot
fetish and could only fall asleep with my foot in your hands! I. Love.
You,” she tells him, desperately looking into his eyes, begging him to see
that she is telling the truth.
“Believe me. Please. I love you the way you are, kinks and all.
And what does it say about me? Enjoying biting you and pulling your hair and
hurting you. Doesn’t that make me a monster?” She speaks calmly, apparently
unperturbed by this, but his eyes widen at her accusations.
“No! Never! Just because you like something doesn’t make you a…”
Realisation dawns on him. Her beaming cheeky grin tells him she expected his
answer. He rolls his eyes at her, pulling her down into a slow, lazy kiss. Her
squeaked laugh of delight as he flips them over make him smile.
He stood still while staring at her, who was standing in front of him. The snow fell down in between them from the night sky. His mint green eyes widened under his frown. A cloud of air smoke was made everytime he breathed.
His voice raised. Breaking through the quiet, chilly night.
She stared at him. He looked like he was told that his brother had just abandoned him… again. But that was not the case. That was never the case. It was something else. Something that made her take a step closer to him.
“Because you deserve it.”
She took another step on top of piling snow on the ground. Her eyes never left his. He looked even more nervous than before.
“What are you… what are you talking about? Are you crazy? Are you making fun of me?”
She took another step. And another. And another. And another. Until there was barely any distance between them.
“How… how dare you! My situation, my life, myself… they had never been funny to begin with!”
She challenged him with her stare. “Who says that I’m making fun of you? Do you see me laughing?”
He said nothing for a while. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, she was right. How did he come up with that accusation of her? Now that he thought about it, he made no sense whatsoever. But still…
“I… I don’t get it… why me?”
“Well, why not?”
His eyes widened. He couldn’t believe his ears. He hoped that somehow, a giant snowflake had entered his ears, disrupting his hearing, dispersing her words. Because there was no way that she really said what he thought she had said.
“…You’re sick. You’re insane. It’s not me all this time. It’s you.”
“You can call me whatever you want. But I’ll stick to my words.”
He looked away. He couldn’t stare at her any longer. Otherwise he would crumble. He gazed at the snow on his sneakers. So white, so pure, so clean. How he wished he was like that, too. So that he didn’t have to deal with what he was dealing with at the moment.
“You know damn well what happened. I was a horrible person right from the start,” he put his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. “If you still care about your own existence, I should be the last person you said those words to.”
She crossed her arms. “Didn’t you hear? I’ll stick to my words. And by words I mean feelings.”
He stared at her again. His green eyes flashed. “What the hell is wrong with you? I had almost killed you! I could have blown the place where you’ve stayed!” He screamed.
She still stared at him. Unaffected.
“If it wasn’t for Saeyoung and all of RFA, you… you would have died in my hands! Not only that! You… you have no idea how I had always wanted to kidnap and torture you for my own advantage! You… you’re nothing but a worthless piece of bait for me!”
Silence. He tried to catch his breath, recovering himself from his anger. While she just watched him going through that process.
“I guess it’s my turn now.” She took a deep breath, and looked deep into his mint eyes. “You’re right. I know damn well what happened. From the beginning until this very second… I know what happened.”
His frown deepened.
“But being here knowing everything, being your worthless piece of bait makes me realize something. That all the things you’ve said just before… none of that had been done by you.”
His eyes widened.
“That’s not you. That’s just what another person wants you to be.”
His breaths became slower.
“It is ironic, I know. But the more I know you, more time I spend with you, and the longer I’m watching you… the more I realize that you hadn’t been yourself in your past.”
Her gaze softened. “Stop thinking that you’re the same bad guy that blows up people’s place. That’s not you. That’s not the real you. You are forced to be that evil guy.”
He looked down to the ground. “How… how can you be so sure about that?”
She smiled. “Well, it’s been almost a year since you joined RFA but I’m still here. Alive and well, standing in front of you.” She said. “You had your chances to hurt me, abuse me, torture me, kill me… but you never did any of those things. Why? If you’re such a bad guy, why do you let me live?”
He said nothing. Because he wasn’t sure about it. He wasn’t even sure about himself either. She was right. Why? Why didn’t he take away her life? If he did, she would not have been able to disturb him like she did now.
He could have made her suffer until her last breath. But he didn’t. Why? She was just a worthless piece of bait for him anyway…
Or was she?
“Jumin Han can get you everything you want with his wealth. He’ll treat you like a princess,” he said after a few seconds. He still looked down at the ground. “Hyun can give you all the love you want. Yoosung is a very nice person. Why not them? Or anyone else? Why me? What do you expect from me?”
She sighed, but with a smile. “If you think that it only takes either money or kindness to care about someone, you’re wrong. But I understand. Since you still have a lot to learn about this world.” She said. “I do not expect anything from you. You don’t have to do anything for me.”
He lifted his head, but he still couldn’t stare at her. “Stop it. You know you’re better than that.” He sneered at her. “Why the hell would you give your feelings for someone who’s just as broken and damaged as a shattered mirror like me?”
She took one step closer towards him. Until she could feel his breath. “Just because something is broken and or damaged, does not mean it can’t be repaired. That something… it was beautiful once.” Her voice deepened. “I believe in you. I know that deep inside, you have a wonderful heart.”
He finally, stared at her. “Unbelievable.”
They stared at each other for some time. More snow fell down, and wind blew. The sky went darker and it only got quieter. Cold. “I dare you. I dare you to kill me right here, right now. If you don’t want to accept me, just kill me.” She said, kind of like an ultimatum. “Show me. Show me that I’m wrong. Show me that I should leave you alone. Show me your true self.”
His eyes darkened. There was it. His one good chance to wipe her off the world. Great. He didn’t have to deal with her and her stupid train of thoughts anymore. Excellent. That realization made him giddy with excitement.
Shortly after, his hands were on her neck. He began strangling her. His grip became stronger and stronger until she found herself struggling to breathe. But she didn’t stop him. Instead, she smiled. He was strangling her but she smiled. Just how moronic could she be?
“Your… your hands…” she whispered. “Your hands… are… cold…”
With the last bits of power that was still left in her, she moved her hands on top of his. She held his hands–hands that were strangling her–very weakly. She didn’t held him to stop him. She held him to warm him up under the vicious cold weather. At least she tried to.
Then suddenly, it hit him. His eyes widened, and he stopped gripping her neck altogether. She breathed a sigh of relief. His hands were still there on her neck, with her hands holding his. He stared at her, who was looking at the ground while catching her breath.
He had almost done it. He had almost ended her life. He had almost killed someone, a woman, with his own hands. The only thing that stood between her and her death was his mind. He changed it in last seconds. He decided to keep her alive.
“I know it… I’m right…” she said. Then she stared at his mint green eyes. “You are never a bad person. No matter how much you want to be a bad person, no matter how much you believe yourself to be a bad person, you are not.”
His gaze softened. It all changed now. His brain had flipped a hundred and eighty degrees. It happened within seconds. He was beyond confused. How? Why? He didn’t understand what happen with himself.
Was there a chance that he might change his mind again?
He observed what was served in front of him. His hands on her neck while she was holding onto them… why did he find it… soothing? It actually made him feel better, for some reason he couldn’t explain. Even better than if those hands of his were squeezing her neck. Much better.
He didn’t want the moment to stop. His hands felt warm because of her. That warmth spread all over his body. More snow fell down. He didn’t care. If the snow was the reason for her to keep him warm, then the sky shall bring all the snow down.
What was this strange feeling inside of him? He said nothing but he asked himself so many questions in his head. Maybe the answer was already there in front of him from the start. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it.
He wasn’t done questioning everything when she suddenly hugged him in a blink of an eye. He was taken aback at first. He was flustered, confused, surprised, everything he could think of.
He felt everything but hatred, disgust, basically any negativity. It was strange because usually, negativity was the first thing that came to his mind everytime he woke up.
“You’re so warm… just like I thought you were…” she said softly. She closed her eyes as she leaned her head on his chest. “I can feel it… I can hear it… your heart… your heart that is beating…”
He stopped breathing for some moment. He did not return her hug, but he also didn’t want her to let go of him. He wouldn’t say he liked it, he just felt better because of it. Like a part of his pain had been lifted off his chest.
“I know it… I’ve always known you have a kind and beautiful heart. I’ve always known you are a warm person on the inside. All this time it’s just a feeling, but now… I can say that for sure.” She said as she breathed. “I see it with my own eyes, hear it with my own ears, and feel it with my own soul.”
Again, he said nothing. And did nothing. But he didn’t feel nothing. He felt something. Something that reminded him of his happy times in his youth. Times that weren’t so many.
She looked up to him, and he knew it. He gave in. He looked down to her. Their eyes met. She could have sworn that she had never seen eyes so calm, and a gaze so soft. Shortly after that, their lips met.
He was surely had never been kissed before. She knew it. But she wouldn’t complain. His lips were soft, moist, and… warm. She hoped that their warm kiss had the ability to melt his ice cold thoughts about himself aside from keeping themselves warm under the freezing weather.
The kiss lasted for five seconds, but it felt like eternity. Once again they stared at each other right after she pulled away. Under the falling snow, they found a fireplace in each other.
She smiled. “I… love you…”
“I love you.”
“Why? Why me?”
“Because you deserve it. You deserve to be loved. You deserve each and every love in this world.”
“I don’t get it… why?”
“You’re a good person and you know it. I care about you and I will save you. I will be your true savior, bringing you back to who you are.”
“I love you.”
P.S: Another Saeran fan fiction! Yay! Comments are appreciated~!
Rick’s climax was fast
approaching and he knew he did not want to leave Michonne behind so he used his
thumb to rub her crux until she met her apex; she cried out loudly and gripped
Rick tighter as she rode out her orgasm. Rick felt her tautness contracting
around his member as he thrust a few more times into her center. He moaned
Michonne’s name as his seed filled her; Rick still gripped her legs tight and
pressed her against the wall as they both fought to catch their breaths. He
rested his forehead against hers as they each relished in the moment.
I didn’t have a happy childhood, or a happy adolescence, and adulthood isn’t much better. However one thing that has always helped me and got me through rough times is superheroes. In particular the batman universe. I’d even go as far as to say the characters, comics, media has saved my life in particular moments. That’s how much it means to the fans. That’s why we get upset when we see hate posts and people spreading them. I don’t care how many posts you make wanting zack snyder to be fired. He lives and breathes the comics and doesn’t conform to what the studio or mainstream wants, he gives us the raw and real characters we love. I don’t care how many posts you make bashing ben affleck and calling for him to be replaced. He captured perfectly the sorrow, the hope, the faults and the strength of bruce wayne. As if the images of the man from the dark knight returns had sprung to life. I don’t care that you were stupid enough to believe the rumors about jared leto and won’t accept the truth or can’t get over heath ledger or just jumped on the bandwagon to fit in. The few moments he was on screen he embodied the unpredictable psyche and the layered personality of the joker from the killing joke, the animated series, and brought us the most accurate comic to film adaptation of the character. No matter how much you cry and type the word ‘anti’ in your tags, you can’t replace those men and what they’ve given me. You can’t change how those performances helped me. And they’re not going anywhere. Every generation these characters are redone, don’t try to diminish what each one has accomplished based on your pettiness or your foolishness. I know I won’t let it affect me anymore. I feel at liberty to say all of this, because I remember being a 12 year old girl in 2008 crying when I saw forums of people saying they were happy heath ledger died so he couldn’t be the joker anymore and writing posts like this defending him because his performance stopped me from giving up, still does.
Next time you go to make a hateful post or send someone a hurtful message over the dceu, remember it doesn’t matter. It just doesn’t.