#am i joking? am i serious? who could say...
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j0kers-light · 1 day ago
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@cocoamoonmalfoy I love you because no hesitation you tagged me. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
When I say I hate Manly Bands. Worse company I’ve seen in ages. Moving on. Usually I love anything Joker related but this? THIS? What the literal what is this? 😰
Why is it so poorly designed?? Why is it $600?!! Is the 420 discount supposed to be a joke? No ppl genuinely thought it was a cock ring 😂🫣 that’s the gag.
What do I do? I’m concerned for the few people who like it.
Okay. No. If the green was a shade darker and the inlay was more gunmetal than whatever that diamond snakeskin looking mess is… then it could be somewhat decent. I can’t believe I’m saying this but the “hahaha” is making it corny. What about changing it to “why so serious?”
Why am I trying to justify this? Oh my head hurts.
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imagine if your fiance could beatbox
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punk-butch-bitch · 3 days ago
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I’ve seen several posts (and a lot of reposts of those posts) talking about the misogyny in rap music produced by men, and while I think that having a conversation about misogyny in entertainment is incredibly important, I also think it’s important to think about why we’re focused so heavily on demonizing rap music in particular.
A lot of mainstream music produced by men, regardless of it’s genre, has the same messaging of misogyny, rape culture, sexism, etc. If you read a lot of the lyrics of popular club/dance music especially, it’s hiding in plain sight. However, in a world in which white is the norm, we’re used to hearing that type of messaging disguised underneath the soothing, fun loving, catchy melodies sung by familiar voices so we sing along without thinking about the words leaving our mouths. Rap, while it’s still a very popular genre, goes against that familiar, comfortable habit of hiding lyrics and is very straightforward, and therefore our condemnation increases because it forces you to interact with the lyrics instead of shutting off your brain.
I don’t advocate for a lack of critical thinking or criticism for the genre, in fact I’m asking for the opposite. Is Rap truly the worst genre for misogyny? Because I could, and am, arguing that abusive lyrics hidden in songs that play over the speakers at every establishment (and especially around children) with no issue, is just as bad if not worse. Genres such as Country, which is just as full of misogyny, are treated with a kind of “roll your eyes and get over it” attitude. We treat it as a joke, if we acknowledge it at all. Those silly, backwards folk living in a cornfield town don’t know any better, really.
Socially, we also forgive and forget about male violence much quicker when the man is white. I’ve watched people blow up angrily about a white man’s crime and after 6 months it’s forgotten to the point nobody remembers it when I bring it up. However a black man in that same situation will have his disgrace last years longer. This is not me advocating in any way for everyone to get the white man treatment, but for everyone to have an accurate social reaction to the crime itself without the person’s race tainting how we view him (and by extension, those in his racial group).
Rap, while it has some serious bad apples now, has an incredibly important cultural history of pushing for social change that other popular genres in the world today do not, and it’s ironic to me that it is now seen as the most morally corrupt and oppressive genre. Associating the entire genre solely with low intelligence (both in the artist and the audience), general moral failing and filth, and a backwards view on society when there are so many rappers who have pushed for social changes harder than any other musicians, when you do not similarly condemn other musical genres, is unfortunately a case of internalized racism.
I will reiterate once again that I am not in any way saying that anyone or anything should get off scot-free or without deep criticism. Pointing out an unfair balance in how we condemn groups of people is simply that, pointing it out. I think we need more criticism but I think that criticism needs to be nuanced, complete, and informed. I would also urge you to look into smaller or more underground rappers/rap movements because there is a lot to enjoy and many good people to support when you’re able to get past the big names that do well for a reason. The majority of our culture today is misogynistic so misogynistic lyrics appeal to the general masses, and people who refuse to fall under that group don’t end up as famous as those who do.
[Edited to hopefully make my point easier to understand bc I was getting several reposts that seemed to be taking away a message I didn’t mean to put across]
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fideidefenswhore · 1 year ago
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soulmate-ism ❤️
#am i joking? am i serious? who could say...#my qualm is not so much the style of acting or even the actors changed but seemingly the groundwork of this character#being disregarded and set aside#im fully a hater so believing this scene is cute means more coming from me.#i liked both that they depicted her as odd and her oddness chiming with his own oddness#bcus then by s3 she is just...serene and genteel. nothing else#i think it was interesting that she doesn't mention coa in s2 either and couldn't help wondering if this was an intentional choice?#catherine was#for one something that seemed to bond the group she became part of#(which is something they seem to omit it is just...the seymour faction. of seymours. and charles brandon. no one else)#but for another technically would have been an obstacle to her advancement. so if the omission was purposeful that (could) have been#masterful... they of course ruin that by s3 again lol#im assuming what they were going for was jane modeling her queenship upon catherine's in s1 by having her suddenly#express such admiration for her but this presents its own host of ...not plot holes persay but character gaps? i suppose?#(this has been theorized and that she succeeded is doubtful. it's not like henry's response to the may day riots intercession was similar)#namely: how does this square with jane's seeming devotion and idealization of henry in s3? she thinks the world of him and constantly#seems to be let down by him and expect better of him...but were she such a devotee of his first wife. whom he banished. then why?#another thorny issue they refused to grapple with by just eliding s3: she might have thought the world of him because*#of what was done to anne. in the vein of reginald pole#ridding himself of the 'heretical evil'. they sort of try to do this by a transference case; suddenly jane hates cromwell even tho he was#instrumental in her rise...?#they didn't have the confidence to explore that ; however. even though it would've been better continuity#bcus in s2 jane seems happiest in diminishing her rival.#and they didn't really give any of the complexity they did to AB...this sort of brash confidence and steady and public reviling of her riva#followed by these scenes of anxiety and fear ; like with her sister overlooking coronation sketches#instead she just becomes...serenely sad. somehow. surprised that henry has a mistress.#(i mean. cute being a relative term. jane is cute. henry is baring his teeth and doesn't seem to display much in the way of ...warmth?#could have actually been something really interesting done here...idk how accurate. but interesting#'as lancelot worshipped guinevere' is a fantasy...and not one that ends in marriage between the two#just as 'maitresse en titre' (i mean...it was a title for a reason...but) was a fantasy outside marriage
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spoiledskullz · 1 month ago
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sonic movie monkey paw: knuckles is more popular now than he was prior to 2022 but it's movie knuckles and his character is still misunderstood
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razzle-zazzle · 6 months ago
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Ok but what happens next 😭😭😭 how do the show and movie ninja interact I NEED THEIR SHENANIGANS /lh
Okay okay so. basically. the movie ninja are temporarily stuck in showverse, so the show ninja just kind of (slightly awkwardly bc they weren't expecting this AT ALL) take them in for the time being while looking for a way to send them back. we get to see the similarities and differences between the show and movie ninja, we get to see both groups reacting to each others' lore/lives ("you all still go to school? ew" "you all live together like a permanent sleepover? so cool!").
But also. When Ghost possessed Movie Cole. Movie Cole got a whole bunch of Show Cole's memories. They're all jumbled up and discombobulated, though, so for all that M!Cole knows more about his counterpart than any of the other ninja it's usually expressed in Sudden Realizations as the disconnected pieces click into place. Meanwhile, Show Cole kind of has Ghost and Corpse' memories, kind of, and Ghost was pretty much present the entire time he was in movieverse even if he couldn't be seen or heard for most of it (and did have a few episodes where he couldn't see or hear either), so Show Cole also has a weird amount of insight to his counterpart that he doesn't really actively realize he has. This leads to great interactions such as:
S!Cole: i mean, i kind of remember? it's in bits and pieces S!Cole: your history essay was awful btw M!Cole: what would you know, you literally— M!Cole: wait M!Cole: YOU DROPPED OUT OF MARTY OPPENHEIMER'S?! S!Cole: i still know half-assing when i see it! M!Cole: MARTY. OPPENHEIMER'S!!! M!Cole to S!Cole:
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and
S!Jay: soooo are those memories making any sense yet? M!Cole: no S!Jay, thinking about the love triangle: oh thank fsm M!Cole: you two fight a lot, huh? S!Cole: i dunno what you're talking about, we're best friends S!Jay, opening the fridge: yep! we're—COLE DID YOU TAKE MY FUCKING PUDDING CUP AGAIN S!Cole: the best of friends 😌😊🌸✨
and
M!Cole, to S!Kai: so what's "human pinata" supposed to be M!Kai: the WHAT S!Kai: ...some things are better left forgotten S!Cole, from across the bounty: HE WAS AN ENTERTAINER AT KIDS PARTIES A FEW YEARS BACK M!Cole: oh M!Kai: oh? OH???? M!Kai:
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There's more that I can't recall off the top of my head rn, too. But yeah once the slightly morbid twist is resolved Cleaved gets back to regular crossover shenanigans and impromptu cross-dimensional group therapy. Of course, there's also that fact that M!Cole's indentity was revealed back home, but surely that's not going to cause any problems when they finally figure out how to reliably travel through realms...
right?
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plasticross · 6 months ago
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john do me a favor and remind people that i do just talk like this even when i was not evil. please and thank you.
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scionshtola · 1 year ago
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man h*rmes really just. did not have the tools to help m*teion properly process all that despair. and how could he! no one else had them (the flowers were always white!). but he cared about her. and he wanted her to go out and learn how to deal with despair and more (in the course of your long journey you will learn from those you meet. learn to walk and run and so much more). and it’s just so sad to me. if he knew how to handle his own despair, if he knew that everyone had to find their own reason for living, he wouldn’t have needed to send her out in the first place.
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pukicho · 28 days ago
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You've changed, man. I don't know what it is but some time in the past six months your shitposting got a bitter edge to it. Sure you could blame the political climate or world events on it but...I dunno. I used to scroll your blog to momentarily escape the hardships of today but now it feels like even you're not a safe place any more. I wish you luck on your journeys onwards but I'm sorry to say I cannot travel with you any more. Be well, puki, and I hope whatever troubles you passes.
Escapism is important and I try to offer that to a degree, but ultimately, I am a person. I experience hardships, I empathize with the worsening conditions of my world. As long as I care about things external to myself, I will subtlety, or blatantly express them in some way in my blog, which I’ve done for years, not merely 6 months.
Unbeknownst to you, these concerns are often the inspiration for some of my most beloved posts.
You’re free to leave of course, if my 1 serious post out of every 30 fucks your day up that badly, then please, feel free! - I simply don’t see my blog as escapist fluff, it never has been, even if that is often the outcome. My page has always been about my interests, and I just so happen to enjoy making people laugh.
I see it more as a fun place to hang out and express the feelings I feel inclined to express, most of which are fun and goofy, some of which are not. I love our little playful back-and-forths, and I enjoy seeing your insights, even if some of you are fucking stupid as shit. Sometimes I just like using you guys as little guinea pigs, testing my odd expressions out on you, and sitting back and seeing the outcome.
Ultimately, I try to balance balance 3 things on my page:
Comedy, as you know - I like making jokes, I like testing them out on people. Even if they suck, I like writing them regardless. Sometimes I sit back after writing something I know objectively sucks, hit send, and watch as everyone tells me how much it sucks. It brings me joy.
A desire for money - because if not, I wouldn't be able to make posts half as often as I do (ie, shirt sales, promoting my music, etc) - Sometimes that anxiety for money also bleeds into my posts, it has for years; and I hold back from being even more desperate about money than I feel I should be sometimes.
And the point you brought up: The occasional comment on something real that matters to me. - Over the past 3 years, if not longer, I’ve made a few uncharacteristically-serious statements on things like Covid, Gaza, The Presidency, hell, even the indigenous people of Australia... and more.
Why do I feel inclined to discuss these things? Because I want to. My page has always been about what I want. Fortunately for you, what I usually want to do is to make you laugh! But sometimes I wish to express other feelings, because I have a platform that allows my voice to travel further than that of others!
For those angry at all the qualms I don't bring up, try to understand my balancing act, as someone who understands your desire for escapism, and the comfort that it brings you. If the veil falls, remember, we are of like-company - - and maybe, this veil was only ever in your head to begin with.
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prlssprfctn · 22 days ago
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AU, where Bruce accidentally gets de-aged (physically and mentally), and the first person he bumps in is... Red Hood.
To Jason's defence, he didn't connect the dots at first. He was just patrolling around his usual turf, thinking of nothing in particular, when he saw a small child in a ridiculously serious suit, sulking around Crime Alley. He looks distraught, and considering that he looks rich, it is no surprise - that is not a place for him. So, he is either lost or something happened, right?
He takes the helmet off, as he usually does when he is dealing with kids (they got scared easily) and carefully approaches a brooding baby.
'Hey, shrimp. Where are your parents at?'
That said shrimp turns around, his big blue eyes looking confused and lost, and Jason thinks he looks awfully familiar.
'I am not shrimp,' he protests instantly, pouting at him. 'And they are somewhere... here. We just left the movie theatre together!'
Jason glances at the abandoned movie theatre, back at the little rich boy with a familiar frown, and it clicks. This is his fucking dad. Suddenly, a kid - but it is fucking Bruce Wayne, for sure.
'Was watching Zorro by any chance?' Jason still asks, just to be sure that he is not going insane.
Bruce - and it must be him - beams at him.
'Yes! This is a great movie, by the way.'
Oh, hell. At least, he didn't witness his parents' death just yet. Jason wasn't sure he would be able to deal with his father being so small, and mourning his mom and dad. He would probably cry himself at some point.
'Hey,' Jason calls out for him slowly, squatting down; God, who would've thought that this little shrimp would become so tall and big in the future. 'Aren't you... You must be Thomas's kid, right?'
Okay, yeah, Jason is going to lie to this kid. Because there is no way he manages just to steal Bruce as a stranger to bring him back home; it is still a kid, even if it is his father. Right?
'You know my dad?' Bruce tilts his head, little fingers tugging on the hem of his jacket; suspicious.
'You could say that,' Jason nods. 'Alfie... I mean, Alfred called me. Asked me to pick up a kid, since Thomas and Martha got an urgent call.'
Fuck his life and stupid life choices. What the hell he was even doing? He looked like a mugger; or like a psycho. But Alfred was his best bet - he could call him, after all; ask, well, support his idiotic made-up story.
'No one calls Alfred Alfie but my dad,' Bruce pouts in a very, very spoiled manner.
'Well... I do. We served together in the army,' he blurts out.
His armour, apparently, is enough a proof for the kid to nod slowly.
'Okay. But you gotta take off your strange mask first,' Bruce folds arms on his chest.
...???
Did this kid just agree for an unknown man to take him home? Like this? Who could've thought that this pouty child would become the most paranoid man alive in the future?
'Uh, why?'
'So I can remember your face and do an identikit, if you turn out to be a bad guy,' Bruce smirks stupidly. 'Duh.'
Jason is going to cry. This kid is so cute.
'Yeah, duh,' Jason huffs, but despite his better judgment takes the domino mask off as well. 'Go on, take your time. My identikit should be the prettiest, shrimp.'
Bruce... gawks at him. His eyes are comically wide now, mouth open, and then, he jumps a little closer to him - oh, God, he is jumping when excited? - putting his hellishly cold hands on Jason's cheeks.
'Woah. You look like dad.'
'Uh,' Jason nods awkwardly, and because he is an idiot, adds a joke: 'We are brothers, actually. Just don't talk much.'
...Apparently, little Bruce can't take jokes. Because he lets out an adorable gasp, and throws himself on Jason as if they knew each other for ages now.
'Uncle? That's so cool. You look like Zorro!'
Damn this little kid, and this stupid family. Damn Joe Chill and the night he killed this kid's parents. Damn it all. Bruce might be an asshole sometimes, but he was so... cute and innocent.
'Thanks, shrimp,' Jason slides a domino mask back on, picks up little Bruce with one arm, and grips a helmet with another. 'Come on, let's go home. Alfred will make your favourite tiramisu.'
'You know my favourites?!'
Jason sniffles.
'Yeah. Yeah, I do, kid.'
If he gets so emotional over this kid, he has no idea how worse Dick is going to be once he finds out.
Oh, this is going to be one hell of a night.
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voyter · 3 months ago
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NNN (NO NUT NOVEMBER) ! ... thanksgiving special
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pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader
jungkook and his friends are all in on the internet's most ridiculous trend: no nut november. but you’re determined to make your boyfriend lose — and you know just how to do it.
word count. 8.9k words warnings. stupid fucking nnn challenge. JUNGKOOK IS SOOO DRAMATIC IN THIS OML. competitive koo. oc being petty as fuck. oc a brat hehe. jungkook cannot lie to save his life. he fighting demons in his head. needy koo. slight crack. smut. oral (fem!receiving). MUNCH JK. dry humping. blindfolding (very brief lasts like five seconds). koo loves her boobies. unprotected sex. dom!jk (i dont usually like writing him like this but i didnt hate it).
ana's notes. happy (very late) thanksgiving !!! BETTER LATE THAN NEVER RIGHT. this was supposed to be posted after thanksgiving but i got so busy and then the writers block crept up on me :\ .. ANYWAYS i am so grateful for you guys and the support you have shown for my writing, it means a lot since this is a hobby that i love. heres a little silly smutty fic for the holidays !! keep your comments positive or say nothing at all <3
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There was this utterly ridiculous trend that resurfaced on the internet like clockwork every year — No Nut November.
The viral phenomenon was a joke. Honestly, who in their right mind would actually take part in such a thing?  
Well... Jungkook and his friends would. 
Never ones to back down from a challenge, they had turned the trend into a full-blown competition: the last man standing would walk away with a cash prize collected from everyone who failed. And Jungkook? He wasn’t about to lose. Not to his friends. Not to anyone.  
It wasn’t like he needed the money. Jungkook was doing just fine in that department, thank you very much. But the satisfaction of watching his friends begrudgingly hand over their hard earned cash, faces red with defeat? Fucking priceless. Count him in.
Unbeknownst to you, the bet was in full effect. Therefore, in preparation for what promised to be a painfully unfulfilling month, Jungkook made the most of Halloween night. His desire was overwhelming as he pulled you into his arms again and again. By the time you were both utterly spent, he’d taken you three times — round after relentless round, ensuring he had no regrets before the clock struck midnight.
It was all part of his plan: to have you as many times as he possibly could before November hit and he couldn’t have you at all. He was dead serious about this challenge. Winning was secondary — what mattered most was that he didn’t lose.  
By the first week of November — just five days in — Jungkook had been doing surprisingly well. His restraint was impressive, and he’d managed to keep his touches brief and calculated. The physical contact between you two had been limited to sweet, innocent moments: the kisses you shared when he left and came home from work, the soft pecks exchanged before falling asleep, or the comforting warmth of cuddling. None of it lingered too long, and Jungkook was acutely aware of how easily even the smallest touch could spiral into something much harder to resist.  
But Jungkook’s plan didn’t seem to work so well after all. As the week drew closer to its end, you began to get eager.  
Your arms would wrap around his waist from behind, your chest pressing against his back as you left featherlight kisses against the nape of his neck. Each one sent a shiver down his spine, your breath warm and teasing against his skin. Your fingers trailed along his arms and shoulders a little longer than usual, like they couldn’t bear to part from him. When you kissed him, your lips lingered just a second too long, brushing against his with a softness that made his heart pound and his resolve crumble.  
And Jungkook — poor, stubborn Jungkook — felt the strain of holding himself back with every passing moment.  
The tension in his body was unmistakable. His jaw clenched, his hands fisted at his sides, as if anchoring himself in place was the only way to resist you. But it was getting harder. Your every move — a tilt of your head, a brush of your fingers, the soft hum of your laughter — was a calculated test of his willpower.
There were times where his thumb hovered over the group chat. His mind screamed at him to type out the words, to admit defeat, to let it all go so he could have you the way he so desperately craved.  
But he didn’t.  
He kept his composure, though it was a battle he felt he was losing by the second. Temptation clung to him like a warm, enticing embrace, your every move a test of his self control. You were irresistible, and he knew it. Hell, even the fucking dickwad of a neighbor — the one who always found a reason to greet you while mugging Jungkook — knew it. But as much as he wanted to give in, Jungkook had to tread carefully. Ignoring you completely would be suspicious, and pulling away would be totally out of character. You’d see right through him.  
So he found a fine line to walk, a delicate balance: giving you just enough to keep you satisfied while keeping his own burning desires tightly in check. A heated makeout session here, his hand squeezing your ass there — little gestures that made everything feel normal. Just enough to keep you from noticing anything was off, but never enough to let things spiral out of control.  
The thought of explaining the ridiculous bet to you was out of the question — he wasn’t about to tell you he’d willingly signed up to not get his cock wet for a whole month. So instead, he silently resolved to endure.  
It wasn’t easy. Hell, it was torture. But the thought of losing to his friends? That was even worse. Their smug faces, the relentless teasing — it was unthinkable. Jungkook would rather give himself the worst case of blue balls imaginable than admit defeat.  
But just as the next week was about to begin, Jungkook’s willpower met its match.
At night, Jungkook stuck to his usual routine. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and climbed into bed. He scrolled aimlessly through his TikTok for you page, waiting for you to finish up in the bathroom and join him. It was the same comforting ritual as always.  
Usually, when you slipped into bed, he’d put his phone down immediately. Without a word, he’d shift closer, press his chest to your back, tangle your legs together, and throw a protective arm over your waist. It was an unspoken rhythm you both loved, the closeness of his warmth pulling you both into peaceful sleep.  
But tonight, something felt different.  
It had been a long week — too long. You hadn’t had him, hadn’t felt his touch, hadn’t been able to drown in the comfort of him. And tonight, the ache of missing him was unbearable. You needed him, desperately.  
As you stepped out of the bathroom, the soft light from the lamp illuminated him sprawled across the bed. His focus was on his phone, completely oblivious to you — but your attention was elsewhere.  
The thin material of his sweatpants did nothing to hide the outline of his cock, pressing firmly against the fabric as he lay there in complete ease. It was almost unfair how effortlessly attractive he looked.  
And just like that, the last of your restraint snapped.  
You didn’t even try to play coy. Not tonight. Not when every fiber of your being screamed for him, for his touch, for his warmth.  
You crawled onto the bed with purpose, straddling his hips in one smooth motion. Jungkook tensed beneath you, his phone slipping from his hand onto the mattress. His dark eyes met yours, wide with surprise, but the second your lips captured his, you felt him relax into the kiss.
It didn’t take long for your lips to wander. From his mouth to his jaw, each kiss slower and deeper than the last. That’s when he knew.  
This wasn’t going to end with a few kisses.  
“It’s getting late,” he murmured, his voice breathy, like he was trying to convince himself more than you.  
“Mhm,” you hummed, your lips trailing down his neck, suckling gently at the spot you knew made him shudder.  
“We should go to sleep,” he tried again, though his words sounded more like a plea than an order.  
“Don’t wanna,” you whispered against his skin, your hand sliding down between your bodies, cupping the hardening length beneath his sweatpants.  
The guttural moan that tore from his lips was instant, raw, and uncontrollable. His reaction was visceral, his hands flying to your hips to still you, but it was too late. That single touch had ignited something primal in him.  
With a sudden movement, he flipped you onto your back, his hands capturing your wrists and pinning them firmly above your head.
“Why do you never listen to me?” he said through clenched teeth. His frustration of trying to compose his restraint thinning. Why won’t you let him win? His face was so close to yours that the tip of his nose brushed against yours, his breath warm and uneven against your lips.  
“Love pissing you off,” you shot back, your grin wicked as your eyes gleamed with mischief. You tilted your head slightly, your voice dropping into something softer, sultrier. “Makes me wet.”  
“Brat,” he spat. His grip on your wrists tightened just slightly, his jaw clenching as if holding himself back took everything he had.
To you, it was all in good fun — a playful game, harmless teasing. But to Jungkook? It was sweet, unrelenting torment. Every kiss you pressed to his skin, every soft laugh that spilled from your lips, and every calculated touch you offered worked to chip away at his resolve, unraveling him one agonizing piece at a time.  
He wanted to be strong, to resist, to uphold his own ridiculous self imposed boundaries. But how could he? How could he lay down beside you and simply go to sleep when your every movement, every sound, every look begged him to surrender? His body betrayed him first, drawn to you like a magnet, unable to keep his distance. The tension in his muscles, the sharp hitch of his breath every time you touched him — it all screamed of a man teetering on the edge of self control.  
Jungkook swallowed hard, his gaze flickering over you, taking in the way your lips curled into a smile that was equal parts innocent and dangerous. He hated how much you affected him, but at the same time, he craved it. Every fiber of his being ached for you — your warmth, your softness, the way you felt against him. He knew he was doomed the second you whispered his name, voice laced with need.  
Giving in wasn’t just inevitable; it was everything he wanted. And as much as he’d tried to fight it, there was no denying you. Not now, not ever.
“Fuck,” he whispers, his voice raw, laced with a pain so desperate it borders on pitiful. His head drops, forehead pressing against your sternum, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. It’s as if he’s trying to ground himself, clinging to the fragile threads of control slipping through his fingers.
For a moment, he stays there, his breath warm against your skin, his body taut with tension. Then, slowly, he lifts his head, meeting your gaze with eyes darkened by lust and want, swirling with a need so intense it makes your stomach all jittery. His cheeks are flushed, the faintest rosy tint blooming across his face and staining the tips of his ears. He looks utterly undone, vulnerable in a way that steals the air from your lungs.  
Before he could think twice, his lips crashed against yours in a feverish kiss, devouring you like you were his favorite candy — sweet, irresistible, and utterly addictive. He poured everything into that kiss, every ounce of frustration and need, as if losing himself in you was the only thing that mattered.  
His lips began to trail south, brushing along the curve of your jaw before dipping down to the sensitive hollow of your neck. Each press of his lips left a trail of heat on your skin, and your breath hitched, a soft sound that sent a rush of satisfaction through him. He didn’t stop, didn’t falter as his hands moved to the hem of your shirt — no, his shirt. You always stole his shirts for bed, and as much as he teased you about it, he loved seeing you in them.  
He pulled the fabric up, lifting it just beneath your chin and exposing your bare chest. Your breasts, freed from the confines of the shirt, bounced softly back into place, and Jungkook’s breath caught. His dark eyes locked onto the sight, a low groan rumbling in his chest as his hands instinctively cupped them, squeezing gently, pushing them together as if appreciating every inch of you.  
Unable to stop himself, he buried his face in the softness, his nose stuffed in between your tits, breathing you in like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.  
“Kook!” you giggled, your voice light and teasing, pulling him back just slightly from the haze of his desire. Your hands reached down, cupping his face and tilting it upward until his eyes met yours.
“Prettiest titties ever,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. He leaned forward to press a tender kiss to one breast, his eyes never leaving yours.
Your lips curved into a warm smile, and your thumb traced softly over the scar on the apple of his cheek. The tender moment was fleeting, though, as Jungkook’s mouth found its way to your chest, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples. His tongue flicked against the sensitive peak, drawing a sharp wave of pleasure through your body. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying — and failing — to stifle the moan that bubbled in your throat.  
Your hands moved instinctively, brushing back the dark strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. Your touch was soft, almost reverent, as you gazed down at him. The sight of Jungkook — cheeks flushed, lashes kissing his cheeks as he lost himself in you, his lips tugging gently at your sensitive flesh — made your heart race and your body ache with want.  
He let out a low hum against your skin, the vibration sending a delicious shiver cascading down your spine. His tongue swirled around your nipple with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each motion igniting sparks of pleasure that left you breathless. His focus was unrelenting, his attention on you so singular it made your toes curl. The warmth of his saliva mixed with the heat of your skin, creating a sensation that was utterly intoxicating.  
You let out a quiet gasp, your fingers tugging gently at his raven hair, earning a soft groan from him in response. Jungkook didn’t stop, his lips worshiping you like you were the only thing that mattered.  
But as his mouth continued its ministrations, Jungkook couldn’t ignore the ache building in him. His cock throbbed, painfully hard and straining against his sweats, begging for relief. The urge to push everything aside and lose himself in you was overwhelming.  
Maybe he could lose. Maybe he could just not tell them.
No. That wasn’t fair, and Jungkook hated lying — especially to his best friends.
But fuck, you weren’t making this easy for him.  
With your pretty, soft boobs. Your sweet, irresistible lips. The way you tasted, the way you sounded.
He released your nipple with an audible pop, leaving your skin glistening and flushed from his attention. His lips lingered, warm and damp, as if tethered by an invisible string, reluctant to part. Then, slowly, he began his descent, tracing a line of soft, deliberate kisses down your stomach. Each press of his lips was unhurried, almost worshipful, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as anticipation tightened in your core.  
When he reached the waistband of your panties, his movements paused. His lips hovered just above the fabric, warm breath teasing your skin. He glanced up at you, eyes hooded and dark with want, as if searching your face for permission to continue. The moment felt suspended, heavy with tension, before he shifted his attention lower, redirecting his kisses to the delicate, sensitive skin of your inner thighs.  
His pace was maddening, each kiss a whisper against your skin, igniting every nerve and sending shivers rippling through you. His lips barely grazed you, his touch so featherlight it felt almost cruel, building the pressure inside you until it was nearly unbearable.  
Then he saw it. The damp patch on your panties. His movements stilled for a moment, the sight pulling a soft moan from his lips, thick with need.  
"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, as if meant more for himself than for you. His voice was strained, low and raw, betraying the war raging inside him.  
You were blissfully unaware of the full weight of his internal struggle, the impossible battle between his ironclad resolve and the magnetic pull of you beneath him. But for Jungkook, this wasn’t just lust; it was a consuming craving, threatening to shatter the very challenge he'd sworn to uphold.
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, his touch firm yet tantalizingly gentle as he began to slide them down your thighs. The soft fabric dragged against your skin with agonizing slowness, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. When the panties finally slipped off and landed somewhere forgotten on the floor, his gaze dropped to the apex of your thighs, and a deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest.
Your pussy glistened in the dim light, your slick coating your folds, the evidence of your desire laid bare before him. Jungkook's tongue darted out to wet his lips as impatience flickered in his eyes. Without hesitation, he leaned in, starting with slow, deliberate licks, savoring the taste of you like a man starving.
Your breath hitched, a shudder racing through you as you glanced down at him. His dark eyes locked with yours for a brief, smoldering moment before he closed his lips around your swollen clit, sucking gently yet firmly.
A moan tore from your throat as your head tipped back, your fingers instinctively finding one of your breasts. You cupped the soft mound, your palm pressing into the supple flesh. The room filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths and the wet, sinful noises of his tongue working you over.
Jungkook's hand shot up, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist as he yanked it away from your breast. He possessively replaced your hand with his own. His large, tattooed hand cupped your tit, kneading the soft flesh with a firm yet reverent touch.
He lifted his head from between your thighs, his lips glistening with your slick, and his heated gaze met yours. Without a word, his free hand slid down, his middle and ring fingers gliding through your folds with expert precision. He paused for a moment, his fingers coated in your arousal, before pressing them slowly inside you.
Your breath hitched at the delicious stretch, your sopping wet heat greedily sucking him in with ease. A low, satisfied hum rumbled in his throat as he watched your body respond to his touch.
“So fucking wet," he whispered, voice thick with lust. His fingers curled slightly, stroking your walls with an unrelenting precision that had your thighs trembling.
Jungkook leaned back down, his lips latching onto your clit with a hunger that made your thighs quiver. He sucked and flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud, the wet, rhythmic sounds driving you wild. His fingers continued to thrust in and out of you, the steady, deliberate pace sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body as he curled them just right, hitting that spot that made you see stars.  
His other hand stayed on your breast, groping and kneading with a firm possessiveness that left you aching for more. His thumb brushed over your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.  
He was everywhere — on you, in you, surrounding you. The intensity of his touch, his mouth, and his presence consumed you entirely, leaving you trembling under him as he worked your body like he was born to do it. You could feel the tension building, the coiling heat low in your belly threatening to snap as he devoured you like a man obsessed.
“Baby,” you whimper, your voice trembling, raw with need as your fingers twist into the sheets beneath you. “G- gonna cum.”  
Jungkook doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down or falter. If anything, your words fuel him, igniting something feral inside him. He needs this — needs to feel you fall apart on his tongue, to taste every shiver and moan you can give him before he has to deny you for the rest of this painfully long month.  
A low hum vibrates against your clit, and the sensation sends a fresh wave of heat surging through you, your body arching instinctively toward him. His tongue moves faster now, precise and unrelenting, flicking and circling as if the very act is his lifeline.  
His fingers thrust into you, curling just right, hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and your vision blur. The rhythm is perfect, practiced, like he’s mapping your body by memory, knowing exactly how to coax you to the edge.  
Another hum escapes his throat, deeper this time, resonating against you with an intensity that feels almost like a plea — an unspoken command for you to let go, to surrender completely to the pressure building inside you.  
And with each stroke of his tongue and every curl of his fingers, he pushes you closer, until you’re teetering on the brink, your body burning with the promise of release.
His hand on your breast squeezes more firmly, his thumb flicking and pinching your nipple with just the right pressure, as if he knows exactly how to push you over the edge. Your hand shoots up to grab his wrist, your nails digging into his skin, while your other hand fists the sheets desperately.  
Your head tips back, lips parting in a silent, breathless moan as the tension inside you finally snaps. Your thighs instinctively begin to close around Jungkook’s head, trembling as your release crashes over you in wave after blissful wave.  
Your body shakes beneath him, overcome by the force of your orgasm, but Jungkook doesn’t stop. His mouth continues its sinful work on your clit, sucking and licking with unrelenting precision, while his fingers maintain their steady thrusts.
Despite the painful, throbbing ache of his cock, Jungkook finds a twisted kind of satisfaction in giving you pleasure. The way your body arches, the sounds you make, the way your nails dig into the sheets — it’s intoxicating. It fuels him, spurring him on as though your ecstasy alone is enough to soothe his own torment.  
He doesn’t want to stop. Not when you’re trembling beneath him, your body so responsive to his every touch. But there’s a limit to how much you can take, and he knows it. As much as he loves pushing you to the edge, watching as you surrender completely to him, overstimulation begins to creep in, your soft whimpers turning into desperate little gasps.  
Still, there’s a reluctance in him, a battle between the unyielding need to give you more and the understanding that your body can only handle so much. Even as you writhe beneath him, pleading for reprieve, there’s a part of him that aches to keep going, to hold onto this connection for just a moment longer.  
But he’s Jungkook, and if there’s one thing he values more than his own desires, it’s you. The sight of you trembling, your chest heaving as you fight to steady your breath, tugs at something deeper within him. He takes a deep breath, the taste of you lingering on his tongue, and finally, he pulls back.  
His lips and chin are glistening with your slick, a sinful testament to his devotion. He doesn’t bother wiping it away; instead, he leans over you, his eyes dark and heavy with satisfaction as they roam your flushed face. 
“Munch,” you giggle, your voice soft and teasing as your fingers brush his hair back from his forehead.  
Jungkook chuckles, the sound deep and warm, scrunching his nose in playful protest. His pretty bunny-like teeth peek out in a smile so endearing it makes your heart skip a beat.  
Unable to resist, you lean in, pressing your lips against his. Your tongue brushes against his, exploring him as the taste of you still lingers on his lips. The kiss grows deeper, more heated, and you feel his hard-on pressing insistently against your thigh.  
Without a second thought, your hand slides down, grabbing his cock through the fabric of his pants. He groans softly against your mouth, the sound vibrating between you.  
“Mmm,” Jungkook hums, breaking the kiss as he pulls away, the warmth of his lip still lingering on yours. He stands, his movements abrupt, leaving you breathless on the bed. His lips, swollen and glistening faintly in the dim light, speak to the intensity of your embrace, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours. Instead, it darts away, like a guilty child caught red-handed. He scratches the back of his head, his posture stiff as he moves toward the bathroom door. “I think I’m gonna go shower,” he blurts out, the tension in his voice betraying his attempt at casualness.
Shower? Now? Really? His dick is literally straining against his sweats, the outline unmistakable, practically begging for attention. You can still feel the heat of him pressed against you, the way he twitched beneath you just moments ago.
He’s not serious. There’s absolutely no fucking way.
“What?” Genuine confusion coats your tone, your brows furrowed. “You always shower in the mornings.”  
“I- I know, baby,” he stammers, his pitch climbing an octave as his composure unravels faster than a poorly wrapped gift. Panic flashes in his wide eyes, and his mouth hangs open, grasping for an excuse he clearly doesn’t have.  
“Then what’s wrong?” you ask, your softer now, a thread of worry weaving through your tone. You sit up, the oversized shirt you’d stolen from him slipping down your chest, covering your boobs he wished he could stare at for just a second longer. “Is something going on?”
“I-” His eyes dart around the room like the answer might be written on the walls. “I’m just tired.”  
Your brow arches, skepticism written all over your face. “Tired?” you echo, your face scrunching in disbelief. “You’ve never not wanted to have sex.”  
Jungkook visibly winces, his ears turning a bright shade of red. Rising from the bed like it might help, he sits at the edge, his hand nervously brushing your shin. “I- I had a long day at work.”
You tilt your head. “But you love having sex after a long day,” you say, your voice tinged with confusion. “Jungkook, seriously… what’s wrong?”  
He freezes, like a deer caught in headlights, his lips parting in silent panic. “Nothing!” he squeaks, his voice cracking. 
You lean closer, your suspicion mounting. “Well it’s clearly something! Do I not smell good?”  
His head whips toward you, his face a mixture of offense and horror. “What? You smell amazing!” he practically yells, his voice high-pitched. “Honey, I could eat you all day if you’d let me!” 
“Then why are you running off like this?”  
“I’m not running!” he protests, though the crack in his voice suggests otherwise. “I just- uh- need to clear my head!”  
“Clear your head?” you ask, squinting at him. “From what?”  
“All the thinking I’ve been doing!” he exclaims, clearly grasping at straws. “It’s... exhausting.”  
You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “Thinking about what?”  
His mouth opens, but words fail him. After a moment of floundering, he groans, throwing his head back and covering his face with his hands. “You’re impossible,” he mumbles, his voice muffled behind his palms.  
“And you’re a terrible liar,” you fire back. “Spill it. What’s really going on?”  
He exhales deeply, dragging his hands down his face in defeat before clasping them together in front of him as if in prayer. His eyes squeeze shut, his lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m trying so hard right now,” he mutters finally, his voice low and desperate, “and you’re not making it easy.”  
“Trying hard to what?” you ask, your curiosity piqued. 
“To not combust right now!” he exclaims, his voice rough with need. His eyes snap open, locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. “You’re killing me, babe. Just... let me shower first, and then let’s just have a good night, okay?” His breath hitches, barely able to keep his composure as he watches you, a mixture of desperation and affection in his gaze. 
You blink at him, your mouth slightly open, trying to piece together his words. Before you can say anything, he kisses you once more, the movement rushed and almost sheepish.  
“Go to bed, honey,” he says, practically bolting for the bathroom. “I love you!”  
The door shut behind him with a sharp, decisive click, followed by the distinct sound of the lock turning. It was jarring — Jungkook never locked the door. There was no reason to; it was just the two of you living together, no one else to intrude. The realization sank in quickly, a bitter confirmation that this time, he was actively shutting you out, trying to keep you from coming in and uncovering whatever was weighing on him. You sat there, frozen, staring at the closed door in stunned silence.
Whatever it was, one thing was clear — you weren’t letting this slide. You were going to figure out what was going on with your boyfriend if it was the last thing you did.
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After that night, you kept your distance.
Jungkook hated it. He hated the silence, the lack of your warmth, the way you avoided his touch. But he couldn’t blame you. He knew he was the root of the problem — he had fucked up that night. He should’ve been smoother, handled it better, but he completely blew it. Jungkook was good at many things. Lying was not one of them.
For a few days, you gave him the silent treatment. When he leaned in for a kiss before heading to work, you turned your face, leaving him with nothing but a peck on your cheek. The lack of communication was agonizing, eating away at him every time he caught your cold glances. But you were petty as fuck, and he knew it. You weren’t about to kiss his ass — not when it was obvious he’d lied to you that night. If he didn’t want to talk to you, then you weren’t going to talk to him.
When you were alone — at work, lying in bed, or just lost in thought — your mind spiraled. What could he possibly be hiding? The thought haunted you, gnawing at the edges of your sanity. Was he cheating on you? The idea felt impossible, unthinkable. Your Jungkook would never… or at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. But his strange behavior, the evasiveness, planted seeds of doubt you couldn’t ignore. The very thought made you feel sick to your stomach, but the ache of curiosity refused to leave you alone.
You needed answers. And if Jungkook wasn’t going to give them to you, you decided to go to the one person who knew him best.
you [3:15 pm]: what is wrong with my boyfriend ??
jimin [3:17 pm]: That sounds like a question you should be asking your boyfriend, don't you think?
you [3:17 pm]: I KNOW YOU KNOW SOMETHING.
jimin [3:18 pm]: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???
you [3:18 pm]: whats her name
jimin [3:18 pm]: Who??
you [3:19 pm]: HIS SIDE BITCH
jimin [3:19 pm]: GIRL WHAT
jimin [3:19 pm]: You think he’s cheating on you?
you [3:23 pm]: is he ?? just tell me so i can save myself the humiliation pls
jimin [3:23 pm]: Bro no he would never
jimin [3:23 pm]: I’d chop his dick off and then kill the girl if he did
jimin [3:23 pm]: What makes you even think that in the first place?
you [3:24 pm]: hes acting weirdddd :(
you [3:24 pm]: i was trying to fuck him a few nights ago but he wouldnt let me touch him
jimin [3:25 pm]: First of all ew
jimin [3:25 pm]: Second of all
you [3:28 pm]: SECOND OF ALL ????
jimin [3:30 pm]: 😂😂😂
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If you weren’t pissed at Jungkook before, you definitely were now.
After talking to Jimin, you finally learned the truth about the challenge. It wasn’t even the fact that Jungkook had hidden it from you that irritated you most — it was the challenge itself and his ridiculous competitive spirit. Why did he have to be such a sore loser?
According to Jimin, five of the seven participants had already been knocked out. Seokjin and Yoongi, being married men, didn’t stand a chance — they were bound to lose. Namjoon, like Jungkook, was in a committed relationship, but unlike him, Namjoon had the good sense not to put himself through that kind of pain just to preserve his pride. Hoseok and Taehyung? They were notorious party addicts — losing was inevitable for them. 
Now, it was down to just Jungkook and Jimin. And, of course, Jungkook’s competitive streak wouldn’t let him back down, no matter how ridiculous the stakes were. The thought made your blood boil. How could he have dragged himself — and by extension, you — into this mess?
You didn’t confront Jungkook about what you’d learned from Jimin, though you did drop the silent treatment act. Instead, you decided to take a different approach — one far more devious than simply ignoring him.  
Even with the heater running, the November chill still lingered in the air, but it didn’t stop you from dressing provocatively around the apartment. You roamed in short shorts, sometimes just your underwear, paired with a silk camisole that left little to the imagination. The thin fabric did nothing to hide your hard nipples, which poked against the material as you moved about. Jungkook would notice, of course — he’d grope your ass or give you a quick kiss goodbye before heading to work — but that was it.  
When he was away, whether at work or hanging out with his friends, you upped the ante. You sent him pictures of yourself in matching lingerie sets, always in his favorite color, knowing how much he loved them. Sometimes you sent something more daring — nudes that left nothing to the imagination. Usually, those photos had him texting back immediately, promising to deal with you as soon as he got home.  
But this time, his responses were different. Short. Terse. Instead of giving in, he’d simply tell you to stop.  
Frustration boiled over each time you read his dismissive replies. You groaned and threw your phone onto the bed in defeat. Why wouldn’t he just give in already? You wanted him so badly, and you refused to even touch yourself because what you craved was him — his hands, his mouth, his dick.  
If teasing him over the phone wasn’t working, you decided it was time to take things up a notch. One night, when you heard the shower running, you didn’t hesitate. Stripping off your clothes, you quietly stepped into the bathroom. The steam swirled around you as you opened the shower door and stepped in.  
Jungkook froze the moment he saw you. His wide eyes scanned you from head to toe, lingering on your curves as if he hadn’t seen them countless times before. His jaw tightened, his chest heaving as his restraint wavered. Then, with a groan of frustration, he threw his head back against the shower wall, his eyes squeezed shut as if trying to block out the temptation in front of him.  
Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. 
Despite his impressive self-control, his body betrayed him. His cock stood stiff and proud between you, a silent plea for attention. But no matter how much you pressed closer, your skin grazing his, or how boldly you touched yourself in front of him, he didn’t break.  
With a stoic determination that only fueled your frustration, he focused on washing off, his movements precise and distant, as though ignoring the tension hanging thick in the air. And just when you hoped he’d finally push past his limits, he’d step out of the shower, leaving you behind in the steam, your desire unfulfilled.
It was maddening. Teasing him was supposed to work — it always worked. And while you were determined to push him until he snapped, you had to admit, his composure was far better than you’d anticipated.
It was just days before Thanksgiving, which meant this painfully long month was finally nearing its end. But you were done waiting. Done teasing. The ache in your body had grown unbearable, a constant, gnawing need for him that no amount of patience could soothe.  
You were going to have him tonight, or you were going to actually die.  
Jungkook had a day off tomorrow, so he was sprawled on the couch, completely absorbed in his Nintendo game. His focus was unwavering, his brows furrowed in concentration as the soft clicks of the buttons filled the room.  
Dressed in a matching lacy black set that left little to the imagination, you moved silently behind him, your determination unwavering. Gently, you placed your hands on his broad shoulders, your fingertips tracing soft patterns over the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even glance up, much too engrossed in the virtual world on his screen.  
But then you leaned down, your lips brushing against the side of his neck. The soft, teasing kisses trailed along his skin, featherlight yet deliberate, leaving a warm path behind. You felt the slightest hitch in his breathing, a telltale sign that despite his effort to remain focused, you were beginning to unravel him.
His eyes fluttered shut, his focus on the game completely shattered as his head tipped to the side, exposing more of his neck to your eager lips. His lips parted, heavy breaths escaping him, each exhale laced with a vulnerability you rarely saw.  
“Baby…” he moaned breathily, his voice low and strained, warning you.  
“Shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. Your voice was soft, commanding, and it sent a shiver rippling through him. You felt his resolve beginning to crack, the tension in his body shifting as your hands slid down, teasing the line between tenderness and temptation.
Pulling away, you reached for the tie you had stolen from his drawer earlier. With a deliberate slowness, you brought it up to his eyes, slipping it over and covering his vision.  
“What-” he began, his voice tinged with confusion as his hands instinctively moved to stop you.  
But you were quicker, gripping his wrists to still him. Leaning in close, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “I know about your stupid challenge, Jungkook.”  
His body tensed beneath you, the air between you heavy with tension. His breaths came uneven now, a mixture of guilt, surprise, and something else simmering just beneath the surface.  
“Let me explain-” he started, his voice edged with desperation.  
“No,” you cut him off, your tone firm but quiet. “It’s too late for that now.”  
You secured the tie around his eyes, knotting it with careful precision. The soft fabric sat snugly against his skin, cloaking his vision completely. His lips parted as if to protest, but he stopped himself, seemingly caught between resisting and surrendering to whatever you had planned.
Rounding the couch, you reached down and plucked the device from his hands, setting it aside on the coffee table without a second thought. His body went rigid beneath you, his breath hitching as you settled in. The unmistakable hardness of his cock pressed against you, igniting a spark of satisfaction that curled your lips into a smirk. Slowly, you began to move, rocking your hips against his in steady, purposeful motions, grinding into him just enough to draw a reaction. 
“Do you know how much I missed you, Kook?” you murmured, your voice dripping with need as your lips hovered near his ear. “Missed your pretty cock… my fingers could never give me the satisfaction you do.”
His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, the silver of his piercings glinting under the warm light, drawing your eyes like a magnet. That perfect little mole just beneath his lip was on full display, a teasing reminder of how irresistible he looked like this — teetering on the edge of control.  
His lips parted as a soft, breathy moan escaped, the sound low and unrestrained. It sent a shiver straight through you. His hands, no longer hesitant, slid to your hips, gripping firmly as he guided your movements. Each roll of your hips against his was deliberate, his touch coaxing you to grind harder, deeper, until the friction was almost too much to bear.
You hooked a finger into the fabric covering his eyes, tugging it free with a teasing slowness. His lashes fluttered as he blinked, his vision gradually clearing — and then he saw you. Nothing but his favorite set of yours graced your body, clinging to your curves in all the right ways.  
A low, breathless please escaped his lips, muttered more to himself than to you, as if trying desperately to maintain his composure. His eyes squeezed shut, and he turned his head away, a feeble attempt to resist you.  
But you weren’t having that. Your hand shot out, firm but gentle, cupping his chin and turning his face back toward you. His eyes snapped open, dark and hungry, as you reached behind you, unclasping the delicate hook of your bra. The straps slipped from your arms, the fabric discarded behind you without a care.  
Your hands came up, cupping your bare breasts, teasing yourself as his gaze darkened. His restraint frayed before your eyes as his hips bucked up into yours, seeking friction, a desperate need taking over. His jaw tightened, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips, a clear sign of how much he craved you.  
Those should be his hands, not yours.
His hand twitched, reaching out instinctively, but you caught his wrist, guiding it purposefully down your body. Your gaze never wavered from his, locking him in place as you slid his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear. His fingers pressed against the soaked fabric, and his breath hitched when he felt just how wet you were. The slickness coated your plush lips, a testament to how badly you wanted him.  
“Honey…” he warned, his voice shaky and breathless, teetering on the edge of control.  
“Please, Kook,” you whispered, your tone laced with desperation. “Fuck me tonight, or I’ll lose my mind. It’s been weeks. Don’t you miss me as much as I miss you?”  
Your plea hung between you, thick with need and longing. His jaw clenched, and you could see the internal battle playing out in his dark eyes as his fingers twitched against you, his restraint unraveling with each passing second.
How was he supposed to get up and walk away with his cock straining painfully against his sweats, and you like this, laid out before him? His hand was still buried in your underwear, fingers sliding effortlessly over your slick folds, forming a V as they trailed up and found your clit. His jaw clenched at the way your body shuddered beneath his touch, the quiet moan slipping from your lips like a siren’s call.  
And then there was you — your smaller hands kneading your soft, perfect tits, the ones he loved so much, the sight alone nearly undoing him. The way you whimpered, the way your body responded to him, had his restraint crumbling to dust.  
This was it — his breaking point.  
He didn’t care about the fucking challenge anymore. Nothing mattered except you.
It was like a switch flipped inside him. In a sudden, fluid motion, he grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he laid you down on the couch. His broad frame hovered above you, the way you’d missed for so long. His dark eyes were locked onto yours, blazing with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. 
He didn’t waste time. You were already soaked, your body more than ready for him. No need for extra preparation — he knew he’d slide right in. With one hand, he freed his cock, giving it a few languid strokes, his eyes never leaving yours. He hooked a finger under the edge of your panties, tugging them to the side, baring your pretty, dripping pussy. He couldn’t wait to get inside it. The flushed tip glistened, teasing your entrance for a heartbeat before he pressed forward, the head sinking in.  
A sharp gasp escaped both your lips, the shared sensation so overwhelming it felt as if you were experiencing each other for the first time all over again. Jungkook moved slowly at first, his cock stretching you inch by inch, filling you with deliberate care. His brows furrowed, and his jaw tightened as he savored every moment, every inch of warmth he’d been denying himself for far too long. 
But restraint wasn’t his strong suit tonight. The need coursing through him was too much to bear. His movements quickened, his hips snapping forward with purpose. The wet, obscene sounds of skin meeting skin filled the room as his pelvis slapped against the back of your thighs. The steady rhythm of his thrusts deepened, each one more urgent than the last, driving both of you closer to the edge.
His upper body lifted off of you, and with a swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of his broad, muscular frame sent a jolt of heat straight to your core. He was absolutely stunning, every inch of him on display — his skin glowing under the dim light.  
His arm was covered in intricate tattoos, the ink curling around his bicep like a story you wanted to read. His chest was thick and broad, with a layer of muscle that made your fingers itch to trace every curve. His arms were solid and meaty, a strength you could feel even from just looking at him.  
You couldn’t help yourself. Your hand moved instinctively, running down the defined lines of his chest, your fingers grazing over the hard muscles of his stomach. His abs flexed beneath your touch, tense and firm, the warmth of his skin sending a wave of desire crashing through you. The simple touch made you want more, made you crave everything he had to offer.
But now it was Jungkook's turn to take control. With a swift motion, he caught your wrist, his grip firm as he seized your other arm and pinned it above your head. The dominance in his touch was undeniable, and you knew exactly what that meant. He always did this when he wanted to take over, to remind you who was in charge.  
His hands moved quickly, grabbing one of your legs and effortlessly throwing it over his shoulder. You gasped at the sudden shift, your body bent in half, your chest pressed against him, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. His face hovered just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin as he studied you.  
A small whimper escaped your lips at the stretch, your body not as flexible as you'd like, but that discomfort was fleeting. It quickly morphed into something else — pleasure, intense and consuming — as his brutal thrusts began again, filling you completely.  
He was relentless, each movement pulling another gasp from you. His breath came out in ragged bursts, his voice low and laced with command. "You never listen to me, do you? Huh, you brat?" His words were a breathy growl, like a warning. "Just had to get fucked."
You couldn’t find the words to respond, your mind completely consumed by the overwhelming pleasure. Every inch of your body was alive with sensation, making it impossible to form coherent thoughts. Instead, soft moans and breathless hums spilled from your lips, your chest rising and falling rapidly as his thrusts deepened, each one hitting you harder than the last.  
Your body arched into him instinctively, eager to feel more, to give in to the rhythm he set. The tension was building, spiraling higher and higher with each movement, each sound leaving your mouth a mix of pleasure and need. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the way he was making you feel, his hands and his body taking you exactly how he wanted.
"You made this so hard for me, baby." His voice was breathless, low and laced with desire as his thrusts didn’t falter. "Can’t resist you. Too fucking pretty to not touch." He spoke as though he couldn’t control himself, his words slipping out between harsh breaths, his hands gripping your body with barely restrained urgency.
“M’already so close, Kook,” you moaned, your voice shaky with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. The pressure inside you was building, so close to release, but you needed him to push you over the edge.
“Yeah?” His gaze darkened, his hips snapping into yours with even more force. “Show me. Let me feel you, please.” His words were more than a plea — they were a command, a desperate need for you to let go so he could feel every inch of your pleasure. It’s been so long since he felt you. He wants to feel you. Needs to feel you.
With each punishing thrust, your breasts bounce uncontrollably, catching Jungkook's undivided attention. His hooded eyes are glued to them, pupils blown wide with lust, as if he's seeing something so utterly captivating it leaves him in a trance. The way they move, the way your body responds to him — it’s driving him wild. His tongue flicks over his lips as he lets out a low groan, jaw tightening, the need to mark you overwhelming every coherent thought.  
You gasp sharply, a broken moan escaping your lips as your orgasm slams into you with ferocious intensity. Your body arches off the couch, your hands still pinned above your head as waves of euphoria ripple through you. Your head tilts back, exposing the long, vulnerable line of your neck, and your chest heaves as you ride out the high.  
Jungkook growls when he feels your walls clench down on him, the tight grip almost sending him over the edge. “Oh, yeah,” he rasps, voice rough and deep, his hips grinding against you. “That’s it. Just like that... so fucking good.”  
But he doesn’t slow down. If anything, his pace quickens, the desperate need for his own release taking over. Each thrust is brutal, precise, and deliberate, as if he’s claiming every part of you, chasing that high he knows is just within reach. His grip on your hips is bruising, holding you in place as he slams into you again and again, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room.  
Finally, with a strained groan, he pulls out abruptly, his cock slick and throbbing in his hand. He strokes himself hard, the sight of your trembling, sweat slick body beneath him sending him over the edge. His release comes in hot, thick ropes, splattering across your stomach and tits in messy, deliberate streaks.  
He lets out a guttural moan, chest heaving as he watches his cum paint you like a masterpiece, dripping down your skin in glistening trails. His hand slows, and his eyes never leave the sight of you — glistening, marked, and utterly his.
Once he milks every last drop of his release, he does something that shouldn't be as devastatingly sexy as it is. Leaning down, his gaze locked onto yours with a feral intensity, he drags his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe up your stomach, collecting his own cum. The heat of his mouth follows, traveling upward until he captures a nipple between his lips, sucking and swirling his tongue with maddening precision.
You giggle, your face flushing with heat as he releases your nipple and makes his way up to your lips. The moment his mouth connects with yours, you taste his cum on his tongue, and you can't help but moan softly into the kiss. He pulls back, resting his head on your chest with a contented sigh.
“Can’t believe you made me lose. I was so close,” he sulks, his voice laced with playful frustration.
“Jimin texted me. He gave in yesterday. You won,” you tease, your fingers softly running through his hair.
His head shoots up quickly, eyes wide like a dog hearing its name. “Seriously?”
You nod, giggling softly at his excitement.
Without warning, he stands up from the couch, pulling you with him. He scoops you up by your thighs, lifting you effortlessly into his arms.
You squeal, half-laughing, half-terrified, “What are you doing?!”
“Making up,” he grins, his voice low with promise as he strides toward the bedroom. “I’m gonna fuck you all night.”
The door clicks shut behind you, the remnants of your clothes scattered haphazardly in the living room, and the night unfurls into a whirlwind of heated kisses and passion that sweeps you both away. Jungkook’s teasing words and touch keep you on edge, but it’s the way he makes you feel — desired, cherished, and completely consumed by him — that transforms the night into something unforgettable. 
You knew that this Friendsgiving would be one for the books. Jungkook wasn’t going to let any of the guys forget it. Always the bragger, that one. He’d be sure to shove it in their faces every chance he got.
And he might have won the bet, but it’s you who’s the true victor tonight.
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© voyter 2024, all rights reserved.
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luvsupa · 7 months ago
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a/n two posts in one day… ruh roh… (I miss gojo </3)
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ex!satoru who doesn’t really understand the concept of being an ex. he just thinks you want a break from him. but permanently separated? hell no, he could never understand that.
“‘toru… things aren’t gonna work out between us,” you begin as he sits in front of you at your dinner table in your shared apartment. he looks at you with no emotion, as if you didn’t just end things. “we’re growing in separate ways, and i feel i would only—satoru.”
you could scream at him—he’s not paying attention, scrolling on his phone instead. he shows you the order he placed for dinner, coming in twenty minutes. of course, he bought your favorite.
“satoru, can you please be serious for one minute?” you huff, clearly annoyed that he’s not listening while he’s purchasing things he knows will make you swoon.
“i am serious,” he says, placing his phone down to observe your breathtaking features.
“you weren’t even listening,” you say, crossing your arms as you slouch in the seat.
“baby, of course i’m listening—you’re crazy if you think i’m leaving you,” he coos condescendingly, and you roll your eyes.
ex!satoru who, in fact, respected your decision and gave you your personal space, not exactly broken up in his eyes, just a temporary break.
ex!satoru who stays over at suguru’s place for a few months, whining every day and night about how he missed being in your arms.
“i miss her,” gojo says as he pets geto’s cat, miyu, while geto himself groans as he cleans his apartment.
“can you at least help out and stop whining like a bitch,” geto says, adjusting the pillows neatly on his couch. this only causes gojo to frown and embrace miyu in a tight hug, nuzzling his face in her soft fur as she tries to get away from his grasp.
“and let go of miyu, she doesn’t want you holding her.”
ex!satoru who continues to send you money, always sending you hundreds and hundreds of dollars for food, shopping, and especially paying for your necessities. he doesn’t care that you work for yourself—you’re still his baby, and he loves spoiling you. his money is your money.
unknown number sent $500! —go get some food, baby~ ♡
unknown number sent $600! —please unblock me on insta
unknown number sent $300! —i love u, mama
ex!satoru who chokes on his breakfast when shoko says you’re going on a date. gojo, never in his life, was speechless, and that really creeped out shoko and geto.
“satoru… are you good?” geto asks concernedly—even miyu jumps on gojo’s lap, sensing a difference in his character.
“yeah, i’m good…” he says calmly, placing down his utensils to pet miyu’s soft fur.
ex!satoru who does a little investigating of who this mysterious man is, finding his identity within ten minutes. he scoffs when he finds his social media—he’s nowhere near as handsome as he is. what do you see in him?
ex!satoru who sits comfortably in the luxurious restaurant where you and the mysterious man planned to go. little did you know, gojo texted the man, telling him that you’re married.
“aiko?” gojo hears a soft voice call as he turns to look at you. your eyes widen when you see gojo. this has to be some kind of joke—he is fucking crazy. you turn around, going back to the entrance, but gojo grabs your wrist.
“no, no, no, baby, please let me talk,” he pleads, and you fold from the way he calls you baby. oh, how you loved and missed the way he called you baby and claimed you as his own.
he guides you to the chair in front of him as he holds your hand, your pretty acrylics grazing his hands. he loved the way you looked well put together, his baby doll.
“my love, i promise to leave you,” he says, rubbing small circles on your hand. your heart pangs at his confession. “i just want to know how you’re doing.”
“i-i miss you so much,” you say. gojo feels like he’s hallucinating at what you just said. “shoko told me you were having a date today, and i felt so jealous—” you stammer, and gojo blinks multiple times, stunned at what you’re saying.
“this guy aiko asked me on a date, and i wanted to make you jealous,” you continue, frowning at being confused with your emotions. but gojo, on the other hand, is putting two and two together.
“give me your phone,” he sternly says. you stare at him in confusion, but you oblige, taking out your phone from your purse and handing it to him. gojo smiles as your lockscreen is still a baby photo of him. he unlocks your phone—the password still the same, his birthday.
“i was meaning to change the lockscreen,” you quickly state, not trying to look like a weirdo in front of him.
gojo goes into your contacts and clicks aiko’s contact information, calling the number. multiple rings go by, and the man on the other line picks up.
“hello—”
“shoko, i know this is you.”
you look at him and your phone in horror. shoko set you guys up by making a fake number to make you go on a date with ‘aiko’ but really you’d be with gojo.
“ahh, did my plan work? both of you kept whining about each other—it was infuriating. i had to do something,” she says on the other line, gojo clearly hearing geto’s giggles in the background.
“don’t ever do this again,” gojo says as he hangs up the phone. the two of you burst out in laughter, but for you, it’s more embarrassing that you were flirting with shoko through texts!
fiancé!satoru who proposed to you a few weeks later, he’s beyond happy to be in the arms of his baby again <3
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arminsumi · 3 months ago
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tattoartist!suguru losing nonchalance when reader flirts with him?
im down bad for him holy hell
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Oh, he's falling to pieces, got it bad for the girl he just met 'n he's gonna make a drunk little bet — y'think he's crazy enough to get your name tattooed on him? Or crazy enough to ink his name into your skin?
ㅤ★ wc; ~3k
ㅤ★ note; continuation of tattoo artist Suguru Geto!
ㅤ★ an; aaa!! you got my brain whirring like a laptop... tysm and i hope this makes u blush and kick ur feet as much as i did while writing!! 🍰✨
ㅤ★ tagz; @ohimsummer 💗@fairiesthrum💗 @heartofjasmina 💗 @kwonan 💗 @ghost-buddies 💗 @madamecorbie 💗 @mima0127 💗 @moggleatlife 💗 @natasaa13 💗 @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell 💗 @wakashudou 💗 @khaothick 💗 @candy-s72 💗 @creamflix 💗 @starriesworlds
ㅤ★ warnings; sum alcohol/drunkenness
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“So, was she joking, or am I your type?” Suguru asks, black eyes staring right into your soul.
“Mm, well…” you hum, giving his form a look-over – god, if only you could feel how hard his heart’s beating when you do this. “Maybe.” You reply teasingly.
“Aw, just ‘maybe’?” he groans, now leaning his hip against the edge of the display case that housed the studs and gauge earrings.
“Yeah, just ‘maybe’ – I’m teasing. No, she wasn’t joking; I’ve always had a thing for the black hair, black nails, bad boy look…”
“The ‘bad boy’ look…?” he questions, recalling what your friend had said earlier about bad boys being just your type.
“Yeah, the ‘bad boy’ look.” You giggle.
His heart beats even harder, muttering a naughty little “Well, lucky me.”
“Nah, not so fast – I’m a smart woman.” You warn.
“Oh, are you?” he clicks his tongue in defeat, “Damn, would you believe that my type is smart women? No, no I’m serious… I’ve got a thing for smart women.”
Your cheeks grow hot, the heat spreading to your ears.
“I can assure you that the ‘bad boy’ look is just an aesthetic; I’m really an artsy dork making a living off doodling on people’s bodies.” He shrugs.
“Hm… maybe, maybe not.”
You rub your lips together. He briefly licks his bottom lip. You look him up and down. He looks you up and down. Body language open and alive with attraction, the both of you stand in this air of electric tension that Shoko spies from the other end of the room.
She watches as the two of you giggle like little flirts, observing how totally absorbed the two of you are in each other’s company. When you catch her eye, Shoko gives you a wink and points at her wrist, mouthing “five more” – fair enough, the two of you have promised to get pizza.
Pizza first, boys later, right?
Five minutes more go by – adding to the total of four hours spent at the tattoo & piercing parlor. But despite her discomfort and need for a change of scenery, Shoko decides to linger around just a little longer so that the two of you can indulge in each other just a little more.
But now you're getting nervous – Suguru has you breathless, holding you in a battle of who can flirt harder? which you're starting to lose.
He's captivated by you. This 6’3, tattooed, goth-grunge, slightly dorky man chuckles and smiles like he hasn’t had this much fun talking flirting with someone in years.
It's going well, then your smile trips him up. I know, it’s always the smile, huh? If you see enough of it, you slip… and that’s exactly what's happened to Suguru. He quickly grows obsessed with the way your cheeks look when you smile – the image burns into his memory without him even realizing it in the moment.
No, in the moment he doesn't realize the magnitude of your effect on him. He's just thinking about himself, about you, about —
“I’ve gotta go,” you say goodbye finally, “I don’t want to keep my friend waiting. But you’ll probably see my face here again… she loves dragging me along for these kinds of things.”
He stutters, “Oh! Oh… yeah – yes. Of course. Looking forward to it… maybe next time, you’ll be the one getting ink in your skin.”
“Yeah right.” You smile.
It’s your French exit that makes his heart throb in need.
No, don’t leave yet… I like you – don’t you ever wonder how many acquaintances in your life have thought this when leaving your company? And you’ll never even know.
Oh, Suguru was thinking so hard about asking you to exchange numbers or to meet up for coffee, but he didn’t want to come off as too forward – no, no… he had to maintain his mysteriousness. Or at least, he had to cling to whatever was left of it after revealing his inner dorkiness to you.
*****
After you leave, he wanders in and out of his studio, has small interactions with his co-workers, and doodles ideas for tattoos down.
Throughout all of these things, your face is at the forefront of his mind. Your voice echoes in his head as he recalls every detail of the conversation you two shared. Then he starts smiling softly as he applauds himself for being so gutsily flirty with you… a stranger, just someone, who he probably won’t see again…
A girl with no name.
God, why was he so slow? He didn’t even ask for your name. Suguru groans.
Yes, he probably won’t see you again… not unless your friend brings you along for her next visit. How long does he have to wait? Weeks? Months? That’s insane.
Suguru stops doodling, stares at the scrap of paper, and then looks up at the wall displaying his works. He rubs his fingers back and forth across his mouth.
I gotta.
He looks over to his phone. He reaches for it, takes it into his veiny hand, unlocks it, and scrolls through his list of contacts.
And then he dials his client’s number. Shoko Ieri.
*****
Now, it’s been just under an hour since you and Shoko left the tattoo parlour. She’s complained three times about the pain because exactly three times she has leaned back on the seat – squishing the fresh ink wound against her chair. You just cruelly laugh at how her eyes twitch in pain and each time.
The two of you sit eating pizza.
“He liked you. Why don’t we go back and you ask him for his number?” she teases.
“No way… he’ll think I’m too forward.” You shake your head.
Then three minutes later, Shoko's phone goes off. She reaches into her backpack. She looks at the caller ID, then at you, then at the caller ID, then –
“… is that him?”
“It’s him.”
“What’s he calling for! Me?”
“Absolutely he’s calling for you – I can bet gold on that.”
It stops ringing. She tells you she’ll text him back but guess what? She doesn’t even need to, because he calls again.
“Relentless.” She giggles. “I’m answering.”
“Pretend I’m not here!”
She winks at you and answers, “Hey, Suguru, what’s up?”
The two of you lean in until your foreheads press together – it’s still hard to make out every word.
“Yo.” You hear his smooth voice coming from the other side, “Sorry to bother you… (muffled)… your friend (muffled)… so embarrassed, so don’t tell her that I’m calling… (muffled)… what was her name?”
You clap your hand over your mouth when you hear those snippets.
She gives you a devious look before saying, “Oh! Well, she’s right here with me, actually, so you can ask her yourself.”
Mouth full of pizza, you freak out and X your arms to signal a fat NO WAY SHOKO! and fall to pieces all with the taste of pepperoni on your tongue.
But she just hands the phone over to you anyways, then proceeds to silently laugh as you spit out your pizza before talking.
“Hehlooo?”
“H-hey.”
You get right to the point. “My name’s Yn…”
“Oh… I like that… I’m Suguru.”
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
“Suguru. Suguru Geto.” He raises his voice.
Cheek hot against the screen of his phone, Suguru is silently freaking out at the tense silence. He can feel his stomach starting to flip. His mind blanks.
“Anyways! Um, that’s all.”
No. That’s not all. He has a novel’s length worth of things to talk about with you.
At this point, Shoko rolls her eyes at the two of you being so awkward on the phone and decides that she needs to take matters into her own hands.
So she snatches the phone from you.
“ – Suguru? Say, you wouldn’t be free on Saturday, would ya? Yeah, I’m going on a date with this guy… and I’d love to make it a double date with you and Yn if you’d like to –”
You hear him stutter out a yes, absolutely before Shoko can even finish her sentence. She grins.
Suguru can sense that the two of you are smiling and giggling. He can predict that the two of you are probably going to gossip about him being the 'dork from the tattoo parlor that called not once, but twice for the name of a girl he just met' – but he doesn’t care. He’s been presented an opportunity and taken it.
To hell with seeming too eager.
When the call ends, Suguru blows out a breath through his lips. Then he promptly texts his best friend. Dark strands of hair slip out of his sloppy bun as he puts his face over the screen, thumbs swift and eager.
Toru 🤞😜 lol bravo... but i thought u said she was out of ur league??
Sugu i mean... yes. she's way too pretty and smart for me. but i'm not gonna pass up this opportunity
Toru 🤞😜 still can't believe u called ur client just to get her friend’s name... lol
Sugu you would understand if you met her ok
Toru 🤞😜 damn she must be something else
Yes, yes you are something else — Suguru can’t even begin to describe why. Translating his thoughts into words isn’t his thing; he translates them into art.
****
It's later in the day. You're lazing around Shoko's apartment.
She confirms the time and place of the double date, and cackles on her couch while kicking her feet, teasing you for being so crazy about a guy you just met – her tattoo artist.
You just couldn’t stop talking about Geto Suguru.
“Shiiit, should I even let you and a bad boy like him be alone in a room together?”
“I can control myself.” you assure her.
She slowly shakes her head at you.
“Yeah right… but can he? I don't trust neither of you... miss crazy and mister crazy... you might just wake up with his name in your skin.”
You giggle to yourself, biting your thumb. “Maybe…”
“Oh girl…” she groans, causing you to giggle into yourself, “You’re gonna be licking the tail of his dragon tattoo by the end of the date tomorrow.”
“H-h-he has a what? And where?” you stuttered, lashes quivering.
She shakes her head at you. “God, you’re screwed…”
*****
It's Saturday night. The bar's more alive than ever.
You've learned that Geto Suguru does, in fact, have a dragon tattoo inked up his toned arm – and a tight-fitting black tank top that shows it off along with his martial artist’s physique, too.
He’s got a glint of the devil in his black eyes. Softly-delivered dirty jokes ready to roll off his pierced tongue. A habit of tilting his head and looking hungrily at your lips and neck.
“Martial arts, huh?” you ask with stars in your eyes.
“Mhm, I could teach you a few things.” He purrs in reply.
Your stomach starts squeezing and flipping – that’s got to be the flirtiest 'mhm' that you’ve ever heard in your whole life.
“You think so?” you purr back.
Now it’s his turn to feel that squeezy, flippy feeling in his stomach.
Fuckfuckfuck is all he could think when he looks into your eyes.
I’m gonna fall to pieces. You’re gonna be the death of me.
“Uh…  do you two need some privacy?” Shoko teases.
Oh. It’s a double date. How could you forget? Shoko is literally sitting beside you at the bar with her date. But for a second there, it really felt like it was just you 'n this deliciously tattooed bad boy.
“Maybe.” Suguru chuckles coyly.
“There’s a hotel just next door…”
“Shoko!” you scold, playfully shoving her arm.
She giggles into herself, sipping down her cocktail innocently as if she didn’t just electrify the air between you and Suguru. His throat’s tensing, foot’s tapping up and down on the bar stool – boy’s got long spider-legs, huh?
Now after that, Suguru grins wider – showing off his pretty canines – his posture assuming something self-soothing; he holds his elbows, arms squished against his ribcage, which just makes his biceps more pronounced. Oh why, why did he have to wear a tank top like that? Surely he’s aware of the effect it has on girls. Or maybe he’s oblivious…
Nah. He's not.
*****
“Did it hurt?” you ask, trying to blink out the tipsiness from your love-drunk eyes but you’ve got three cosmopolitans surging through your veins.
“Not really… I’ve got great pain tolerance.” Suguru replies.
“Oh really?” you blink up at him again and his mind goes blank.
“Look at that...” He murmurs softly, not breaking eye contact with you. Where’s your friend and her date? Who knows. It’s just you and him now – and that’s all he wanted.
“Hm?”
“Not every day I see eyes like that…”
You widen your lips into a smile, “You’re laying it on thick.”
“Am I? Sorry – see, this is what happens after you feed Suguru too much rum. I just can’t keep my mouth shut.”
“That’s terrible… need someone to shut ya up?” you flirt.
He tilts his head at you, loose strands of hair shifting across his cheek. His left brow quirks up – he’s so taken aback by your forwardness but he falls right into it.
You just giggle flirtatiously after making that comment and pull the straw of your drink between your lips, sucking the remnants of a cosmopolitan into your mouth as sensually as you dare to in front of a bad boy who’s got bedroom eyes on you.
“I think I could do with some shutting up…” he admits.
“Mm,” you hum, “y’think by our third date you’re gonna snap and kiss me hard like we’re in a movie?”
Suguru smiles bashfully and looks down into his drink, swirling the melting ice cubes with a straw – slowly, round and round, they clink. Then he draws his gaze back to you, catching you with a sultry side-eye, and now it’s not just the ice cubes that are melting.
“Nah-uh…”
“Nah-uh?” you question.
“… I think it’s you who’s gonna snap first.” He says.
“Wanna bet?” you tease.
“Sure. What’ll be at stake?” he asks.
He keeps his sultry gaze on you as you look off to the side in thought for a moment. Your friend’s joke echoes in your mind.
“… you might just wake up with his name in your skin.”
Then you look back to him – his heart throbs but he’s trying to keep it together here, pulling his straw to his lips to get a sip of whatever rum still exists in his glass.
“Loser gets a regrettable tattoo?” you suggest.
He looks at you with a little bit of disbelief at your boldness.
“How regrettable?” he questions, one eye squinting shut in suspicion. He's wondering just how wild you actually are.
“Like my name on you? Or vice versa.”
He covers his mouth and lets out a chuckle hearing this. “You want me to tattoo my name on ya skin?” he teases. “Sure, I’ll bet on that.”
You can’t believe that he’s matching your crazy.
You stutter, replying only after a lingering moment of hot eye contact, “… there’s no way I’m gonna snap first…” you say boldly, proceeding to pop the cherry of your drink into your mouth and eating it right in front of the poor boy’s eyes. “ ‘m gonna have you walkin’ around with my name on you.”
Eyes glued on your lips, his breath catches in his throat.
“Yeah?”
Ooh, there it was. That feeling. That body singing electric songs feeling… that tummy-tightening, blood-rushing, skin-flushing feeling – it hit him all at once. He knows that if he were standing, his knees would have buckled now for sure, or at least he would have felt the tremor of your words under his feet.
He’s unsteady – smiling uncontrollably, looking dishevelled and softly drunk. Those rouge lips are begging to be kissed.
The bar grows quieter and quieter.
You’re hardly able to call each other anything more than strangers, and yet you’re leaning into him, closing the distance.
The tips of your noses are just inches apart now. You’re in each other’s air. He eyes out your lips, feels your hot, liquor-scented breath tickle his face.
But when you try and close the distance, he raises his hand and presses his thumb against your soft lips, stopping you.
“What happened to that bold statement, huh? Keep it together, baby; the bet’s on.” He feathers against your face.
*****
Tumbling into Shoko’s apartment after a night out drinking, you smile and giggle into the pillows of her bed.
She’s letting her hair down and swapping out her tight dress for jammies when she looks at you in your gleeful state.
“Someone’s in love.” She teases, coming over to tickle you.
“I’m not in love!”
“Oh, quit the act; I saw how the two of you said goodbye – you could barely hold yourself together. Drunk or not, I ain’t seen two adults giggling like that before.”
“Sh!” you swat her, “Not! In! Love!”
She takes a look into your eyes and observes your smile, then shakes her head. You're drowsy, so you make a dive into her bed and fall asleep almost instantly.
Shoko pulls a blanket over you, affectionately ruffling your hair.
“Madly in love, at the very least.”
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2K notes · View notes
kitimeq · 3 months ago
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surprise encounter 🤍 sylus 秦
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pairing: sylus x reader
summary: You’ve been playing love&deepspace ever since the game came out and it became your comfort place now. You like all of the boys, but you have the highest affinity with sylus, who had your heart in a grasp ever since the beginning. Who would’ve thought that he shares the sentiment? And after your monthly absence from the game, he decides to pay you a little visit and finally confess to all of it (and maybe kind of try to kidnap you in the process too oho).
tropes: fluff, angst to fluff, fluff to angst to fluff? fluff to angst to fluff to angst to fluff???? idk angst with happy ending!
word count: no idea, it goes on for days sorry. (7k!!)
warning!: i apologize for any mistakes, i am not a native speaker of english!! if you see any errors you can write me a dm and i will correct them for sure ♡ and i think it gets better later! i can’t write for shi, especially the beginnings, and the second part was fueled by my delulu so it is probably much more fun to read 🤍
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You liked days like these: quiet days, lazy ones, when you didn’t have any errands to run, meetings to attend, or people to please. You could just stay inside for the whole day, reading your favorite books and playing cozy games, spending your time however you wanted. Today was Saturday and you didn’t have to go to work until Monday and you decided that you finally deserved to have some rest after the last couple of weeks of almost working yourself to the bone due to the amount of the assingments you had to complete at work. You often had to stay after hours or work from home to complete everything in time. Your work was not usually that challenging, but there were certain times of the year when everyone at your job had their hands full and when it happened, you were almost completely cut off not only from your social, but also personal life. However, you never complained, because you actually liked what you were doing, and even if the occasional hard times were inevitable, your work brought you so much fun and satisfaction.
And today was a good day! You finally finished everything you had to do, so you could go back to your favourite game. You didn’t have time to play recently due to the amount of work, up to the point that you didn’t even bother to check in to grab some stamina. Usually, love&deepspace was an important part of your day - you logged in there at least twice a day, completed every task thrown your way and had a blast doing so, but these couple of weeks were so hard for you that you almost forgot about it completely. But even if you were too busy, you thought about the boys from time to time, as well as about the events that you were probably missing out on. You really hoped that if some new events had taken place during that time, that they did not involve Sylus, because if you had missed them, you would be slightly devastated.
Sylus was your favorite. Ever since the beginning, there was something about him that caught your attention. You downloaded the game after his announcement and haven’t looked back since. You played with other boys as well, but your time with Sylus was always the most memorable. Not only was he extremely attractive in your eyes, as well as the eyes of other players around the world, but you also understood his character, adored his little jokes and mannerisms, and could safely say that he made your life a little more exciting. You knew that it probably sounded lame to someone who didn’t play such games, and you were aware that he wasn’t real, but you enjoyed yourself regardless. In your real life, you had some experience with men and were pretty popular among them; however, you never felt comfortable enough to form more serious romantic relationships.
Here, with Sylus, you didn’t have to worry about such things. You were aware that he was only a game character and maybe that was why you were so honest with him from the very beginning. You knew that he wouldn’t judge you, misstreat you or make you miserable - he was created in a way that was supposed to make your playthrough enjoyable so you didn’t have to worry about your responses in the messages for him or your real life reactions to everything he said or did. You could just be yourself. And you loved how freeing that felt.
That is why you felt so excited ever since you woke up. Because you knew that today you could finally go back to playing l&d, and you could meet up with your Sylus after so much time apart. You quickly did your chores, spent some time on self-care to slightly relieve the fatigue from the weeks before, you put on your favourite cozy outfit and finally clicked the ”enter game” button.
And there he was. Sylus was standing in the cafe, wearing his extremally attractive biker outfit and you caught yourself sighing dreamily at the sight of him. You missed him so bad, you missed the little memories you shared and the sound of his voice. You missed playing kitty cards with him, catching plushies together and even looking for that bastard Tobias again and again. You couldn’t help but smile brightly at him.
“Hi Sylus, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.” You said cheerfully, feeling kind of dumb for it but you couldn’t help yourself. You often talked out loud to him during your playtime.
You watched him blink slowly once, then twice, and you started to think that there was something wrong with the server because his response should have already been uttered. But then the look on his face changed. At first, he appeared really shocked and relieved, but then a little frown appeared between his perfect little eyebrows.
“Where the hell have you been?” He responded quickly and it shocked you. You didn’t know that they could swear in the game, but after connecting some dots you figured that it had to be included in the special responses after the player was away for some time.
“At work mostly, been so busy lately but now I’m back and ready to defeat some Wanderers!!” You fist bumped the air above you, you couldn’t contain your excitement.
You also noticed that his expression stayed the same. He was silent, looking at you through your phone screen with bewilderment, and he looked almost hurt. In an attempt to provide some comfort to him, you swiped your finger gently through his hair and across his cheek. However, when you touched his cheek, he closed his eyes and nuzzled into your finger, which made you widen your eyes in surprise. Was that always a thing? Was he always so responsive to your touch? It had to be a new feature; you didn’t remember him being so lively.
“Next time you decide to leave me without a word, I think I’m going to take more drastic measures, sweetie” He said while opening his eyes. You couldn’t help but notice he did look different than usual. More… realistic? Even the way in which he moved his body looked so smooth.
“If not for Mephisto, I would have worried sick about your safety. You can't do this to me every time you have more work than usual; you have to visit me, even if it's just for a minute. I won't exaggerate when I say that I almost went insane after the first week of your cruel silence” And at that you were completely stunned. Should he talk this much? He never talked this much. And how could he know that you had more work than usual? Was that a lucky guess on the studio’s side?
“That’s so weird…” You whispered and touched his hand to trigger some kind of reaction that would appear more usual than what was happening right now.
“Is that your way of catching me of guard? If you wanted to hold my hand so badly kitten, then you would have visited me sooner. I will not let myself be distracted by your cute little behavior” He raised the hand you touched and crossed his arms at his chest, while continuing to frown. And you were still so, so confused.
“Promise me that you won’t leave me again, I know where to find you now.” You raised your eyebrows and bit your lip gently. You started to feel a little bit out of place, you knew that he was not real, but he sounded kind of scary. His voice was demanding, and the part about him finding you? You shivered involuntarily.
“What happened? Cat got your tongue, kitten? Or did you finally understood the selfishness of your actions?” Sylus continued and you opened your mouth in awe. “Promise. Me.” He said slowly, his gaze unnerving. Suddenly you heard a series of loud caws outside on your balcony. The sound made you jump in place, and you dropped your phone on your bed. Was that a freaking crow?? Outside your apartament???
You quickly picked up your phone and cursed softly. You were going insane. You got scared just because the game had an update you did not know about. You almost wanted to laugh at how stupid that was. Almost. Because Sylus walked up to the front of your phone screen and spoke to you again.
“Why are you hesitating? Are you really planning to leave me again?” You swore you never heard him so hurt.
“No!” You said before you could think.
“No?” He answered immediately, which scared the hell out of you. “I am not sure I believe you. And I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being away from you anymore.” He took two steps back and closed his eyes.
That was when the game crashed. Your phone appeared to be broked too, after the colourful lines appeared on the screen, flickered a couple of times and the whole screen turned black. You threw the device away from you and your heart started beating so fast you could hear the blood pulsing in your ears. You were so confused and genuinely scared. Was there an update that switched the genre of the game to horror? You were stunned.
And then you heard the knock.
You almost jumped out of your slippers. You brought your hand to your heart in order to calm yourself down and you started taking slow, deep breaths. It’s just a game. It’s just a game. Besides, how did Sylus, of all people, managed to scare you so badly? You adored that character, and you should know that he was prone not only to exaggeration, but also to intimidating behavior. That was literally one of his characteristics. So you forced yourself to calm down and opened the damn door, because it was probably either a mailman, or one of your friendly neighbors, and here you were making a scene like some kind of a delusional psychopath.
One. Two. Three.
You opened the door, and at first all you could see was a huge cloud of black mist. You closed your eyes in order to keep the mist from clouding your vision and then you felt wind pushing you gently further into your apartament. You heard the door close and the sound of the key turning in the lock. Everything happened so fast. And when you opened your eyes your knees almost buckled.
Sylus.
Sylus was all you could see. He was standing in front of you, in your own apartament, looking so out of place that you wanted to laugh. The first thing that you noticed about him was that he was huge, you couldn’t really see past him, and the more you looked at him, the more real he appeared to be. Soft-looking silver hair, rugged skin, that perfect nose and those piercing eyes. They looked into yours now, and at first they seemed to be searching for something, and after one quick second they visibly softened. You could also see how his handsome, oh so handsome mouth started to display his signature little smirk. And that was when you started to tremble.
“W-wha—” You tried to say something, anything but your mouth was not working. You have never been so confused and scared in your entire life. “Who—W-who are—” He was starting to close the distance between you and that is when the panic finally took over your body. You flinched and went to take a step back, but you slipped on your soft carpet.
Yet you didn’t fall. You felt the gentle caress of the mist that managed to caught you before you hit the ground, and it streightened your posture so that now you stood tall in front of the man.
“Careful kitten, I do not think that falling on four feet applies to you.” He spoke out loud for the first time and the voice was so familiar to you. It was the same, deep, husky timbre that you loved to hear, the same voice that made you squeal in happiness, that lulled you to sleep countless of times. You couldn’t believe it.
“Oh my god, am I dead?” He laughed softly at your reaction and looked at you through his lashes. “This can’t be happening.”
”Oh but it is. I knew that I would find my way to you, I just needed time.” He said and tried to close the distance between you, but you didn’t let him. Every step forward he took, you took one back. “It was so hard to find you. But after you disappeared without saying a word I think I got desperate.” Something flashed in his eyes. You recognized it as determination.
He stopped walking when he noticed that you were getting too close to the balcony. He straightened his posture, and you almost released a gasp. He was huge. And he was real. Alive and so, so real, that you had trouble breathing. You were so scared, but at the same time, so happy to see him, that your body didn’t know how it should react. You just looked at him, taking him in, trying to assess whether it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you, or if it wasn’t some random man breaking into your apartment and your brain had created a new, fantastic defense mechanism. But no, the longer you took him in, the more similarities you managed to notice: the scar in the corner of his eye, his unevenly clipped fingernails, strong but dry hands, olive skin, slim lips, long, slightly furrowed eyebrows. The not-so-hidden gentleness in his gaze as he was taking you in himself.
“It’s really you.” You managed to breathe out.
“You’re so beautiful.” He answered and his voice was slowly starting to make you feel these familiar butterflies. “So, so magnificent.” He continued. You felt your cheeks heat up and he seemed to drink that reaction in. “Will you talk to me more? You sound angelic. I did not think that you could sound even better than you did through the phone but I guess you will never fail to surprise me, sweetheart.” He did not move an inch. He just looked at you, and you still didn’t know how to react, but you were slowly coming to terms with the fact that it was not a weird dream. He was here and he didn’t appear to have bad intentions. At least you wanted to believe that.
“You’re still trembling. Are you really that scared of me?” He pressed his lips into a line.
“I’m sorry. I just… I’m just not sure what is happening. I had no idea you were… real.” He laughed softly at that.
“You wound me, kitten. Is that your way of unleashing your little claws?” He continued with a small smile on his lips and you couldn’t take it. He looked… stressed. And you thought that was new for him. You spend so many hours playing with him in l&d but you have never seen him so stressed.
Everything that came out of his mouth was slow and precise, not a word was spoken without a purpose. However you could see by his appearance that he was uncertain.
“Of course I’m real. And all the time we spent together is real too. Was it so wrong of me to expect that you would be at least a little bit happier to see me?” He was starting to look hurt. But not angry, not displeased. More concerned than anything, and that was when most of your worries started to disappear. He was your Sylus. He really was.
“I am happy to see you. I really am.” You said truthfully, the fear slowly dissolving. “What are you doing here? How did it happen?”
“When you left me, I was worried to death. I had to come see that you were alright for myself.” He said, not taking his eyes off of you. “I found a path between our worlds, and first I sent Mephisto after you. And that was how I knew you were fine, just busy.” He started explaining slowly and put two fingers at the bridge of his nose. This gesture was so familiar that you felt a slight pang in your chest. “Which l understand. But you stopped visiting completely and I panicked that I lost you. And that you lost your interest in me. And when you logged in today I guess I just lost control over myself.”
“I had to see you. I had to feel you. I needed to know that you will never leave me like that again. But how could I be so sure if you thought I was not real, sweetie?” His voice carried a hint of a ridicule. He smirked slowly and you allowed yourself to relax. You spend so much time with him on your phone, that you knew when he really needed reassurance. And it was the first time you saw him being so honest about his own feelings.
You decided to step closer to him and his eyes widened slightly. His body tightened because of the sudden change in proximity, and when you gently touched his hand bringing it to your mouth, he appeared to be rendered speechless.
“I would never leave you, Sy. At least not without saying goodbye first. You are my safe space, remember?” You said quietly and smiled at him brightly, reminding him of what you had written in your game bio. And then you brought his knuckles to your lips and placed a soft kiss upon them. His hands were much warmer than you expected them to be. They felt harsh, but gentle.
The next thing you heard was a soft grunt and you felt yourself being suddenly lifted in the air. You yelped and found yourself pressed against his big, solid chest. Sylus hugged your body to his by wrapping both of his arms around your torso, and when he realized that you weren’t comfortable, he put one hand under your thighs and brought your body to his by your waist. You let your arms wrap around his neck and squeezed, and he buried his head in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale your scent and his breath became rigged, as if he could not contain his excitement. You also became familiar with his scent. He smelled so manly and comforting, you could catch some notes of wood and leather, and something surprisingly sweet.
“You smell divine. You’re so soft, so warm.” He breathed against your neck and you felt goosebumps spreading throughout your whole body. You were so embarrassed, you felt like you needed to release some tension.
“I did not expect you to be so open with me. You’re usually the teasing type.” He chucked deeply and put his forehead against yours, while closing his eyes. Your cheeks burned. You couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream.
“There will be a time for teasing you, kitten.” He rubbed his forehead against yours slowly. “Right now let me enjoy you for a bit. I can’t believe I finally got to see you.” He squeezed you harder to him. You reciprocated the hug with all you had. You were actually kind of scared that your grip was too hard, but he seemed to bask in it. “Communicating through that small device was not nearly enough for me. I could always see you and I heard your little responses to everything I was saying. But it took me some time to figure out how to change some things up.” Your eyes went wide at the mention of your reactions, you knew that a lot of times there were beyond embarrassing, but you decided your blush to speak for itself. But what truly caught your attention was how he managed to appear in your home.
“Change things up?? You must have made such a mess, will it really be okay?” The concern in your voice made him look up and find your eyes with his. You were now looking at his beautiful red ones, so full of adoration and determination. You could see that the consequences of his actions did not matter to him at all.
“Sweetie, I would gladly burn the world down for you, even if it meant that I could see you just once.” You swallowed audibly and proceeded to shy away from his piercing gaze. You started to feel unworthy of such attention, you couldn’t quite grasp what exactly made him care about you to such extend. “Fortunately for everyone, the process did not involve starting an intergalactic war.” He smirked slowly, his eyes finding your lips and staying there for much longer than necessary. “Yet.”
You chuckled at that and proceeded to bury your fingers in his hair, stroking the strands with care. They were so soft to the touch, they reminded you of silk. He closed his eyes and let you touch him to your heart’s content. Your hand quickly found its way to his forehead, and then to his cheek, stroking the skin delicately. You couldn’t believe how someone so handsome could really exist.
“See something you like, kitten?” He said and nuzzled into your palm, pressing a kiss right there. ”You will have all the time in the world to touch me when we arrive in the N109 Zone.” He seemed so peaceful, so content with himself, but the mention of the N109 Zone stopped you in your tracks. You tensed visibly and he opened his eyes, noticing the change in your posture.
“The N109 Zone?” You asked puzzled. “Are you taking me away for a weekend?” You took your hand from his face and he used his Evol to bring it back to his cheek. The mist around your fingers felt weird, but not unpleasant.
“For a weekend? No, no.” He locked his eyes with yours, his head slowly closing the distance between you. He licked his lips and looked at your mouth once again. “I am taking you away forever.” And before his lips managed to touch yours, you flinched. Your hands quickly pushed him away and the panic returned to your features.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I meant what I said. Pack your bags if you believe there is something that I cannot provide for you quickly enough, and we will be off shortly.” He said matter of factly, kind of annoyed by the distance you decided to put between you. “Luke and Kieran have already prepared a room for you, although I think that you will have more than enough space for your belongings in mine.” His eyes brightened with excitement that you unfortunately could not share. Instead, you lightly pushed his torso, making him lower you to the ground grudgingly. His brows were once again furrowed.
“I can’t go with you Sylus. At least, not for forever”
“You can. We can stay together for the rest of our lives and no one would have any objections. I took care of everything.” He reached to grab your forearm and stroked it softly with his thumb. He was so sure of everything he was saying that you could feel how much he let himself get lost in his fantasy. It did make you feel wanted, loved even. But no matter how happy you were that he was real, and apparently shared your feelings, you couldn’t agree to his plan.
“No, Sylus. I need to stay here, I have built my whole life in this place.” You could feel how much your words shocked him. He was looking at you so puzzled as if he didn’t think that you declining his offer was even an option. “I can’t leave everything that I managed to achieve, I really am content with my life, despite how complicated it can be.” You said truthfully. A part of you wanted to go with him, to feel safe and cherished for, for the rest of your life but you knew that was not realistic. You wanted to achieve more, you wanted to have your own life and your own space. You needed to be independent, to feel that you were perfectly capable of caring for yourself and your own needs.
“I do not understand. Don’t you want to be with me?” It pained you how quickly he jumped to that conclusion. And you hated the look on his face - it made you feel like you were betraying him.
”I do want to! Oh my god— I really, really do want to Sylus. I don’t think that I can live without spending time with you anymore.” You smiled at him, and took hold of his huge, rugged hand. “But I can’t live with you in the N109 Zone. I can’t leave my whole life behind.” And the fact that he wanted to make you do that somewhat scared you. Made you feel distressed.
“I see.” He sounded deep in thought. Then, he broke the eye contact for a second, looked at his hand in your hold and before you could even react, he grabbed your body gently with his Evol and picked you up. Your whole body was above ground and although you felt secured, you looked at him with surprise.
“What are you doing?” You wanted to get free from the hold of the mist, but it was impossible with how tight it was. “Sylus, you have to let me go.” You tried not to panic, you knew that you weren’t in danger. But he looked relentless, unforgiving as if his mind was already set in stone.
“No. I can’t. Not now when I finally got to have you.” He looked up at you, with his eyebrows still furrowed, and you could hear a hint of a growl in his voice. “If you do not wish to go with me, I guess I would have to take you by force.”
It was then that you felt a sense of panic. You knew him, and you knew that if he wants something, he always gets it. It just did not cross your mind that he would ever go against your own wishes.
“No. No, no, no, Sylus, please calm down.” He narrowed his eyes and stood motionless before you, his face devoid of almost any emotion. Almost, if not for the desperation shining through his watchful eyes. “You cannot take me away. At least not for now. But I will do anything you ask me to! You can also stay here for some time, and visit me whenever you want to, I swear, I would be so happy to have you.” You just needed him to listen. You knew that you could change his mind, he always listened to what you had to say, he just needed a little bit of persuasion. Maybe he didn’t even think about alternative options?
“And I would make you happy in the N109 Zone with me.” You laughed with disbelief. He was completely missing your point. You decided to once again yank your hands from the grasp of his mist, and then hissed with pain when it did not loosen up its hold. “Your struggle is futile, please stop, I do not wish for you to get hurt.” He was annoyed with you and your disobedience. He did not think that you would have any objections, he started loosing his cool.
“You would never let me get hurt.” You answered, wanting to assure yourself of it as well. You didn’t like how commanding he sounded.
“Yes.” There was no doubt in his voice. “Yes, you know I would stop at nothing to protect you.” His gaze never wavered from yours. He truly thought that what he was doing was for the best. And you just had to let him know how wrong his approach was.
“Yes! Yes I do know that! Because I know you, Sy.” You started to sound as if you were pleading. Deep down it scared you, send uncomfortable shivers down your spine. “I know you, and I know that you also know me.”
He placed his hand on his heart.
“And I adore every single piece of information. And I still wish to know you much, much better.” You tensed when you noticed that his right eye was starting to glow. You did not know if that was intentional, or just a trick of the light.
“Then you MUST know how much this life means to me. How much I like my stupid job, and how much I love the people that are here for me. My friends, my family.” You noticed that your reasoning started to get to him when he clenched his fists and avoided your eyes for a second. “And you have to know how much it would hurt me if you were to take me away from them.” He appeared taken aback. It seemed that his longing for you clouded his judgement, and now he started to notice the faults in his plan.
“But I cannot stand to be apart from you anymore, sweetie.” In normal circumstances that would be so touching to you. But nothing about this situation was normal, and you guessed you just had to show him how normal looked like.
“You won’t be. You can visit me anytime you want. Stay for how long you want.” You wanted that too. So bad.
“But that is not ENOUGH.” It was the first time you heard his raised voice and you started to tremble. His outburst must’ve thrown him off guard too, because he wavered and the grip he had on you loosed. You acted instinctively. You freed yourself from the mist and started to run towards your door. And although he was stunned by your reaction, he quickly teleported so that you ran straight into his chest. His hands grabbed yours in order to protect you from falling due to the impact.
He gently caressed your now slightly red forehead and sighed loudly. You could hear that he was hurt. You cried out from frustration.
“If you really thought that you could run away from me then you must be a total fool.” He tucked your hair behind your ear and lifted your chin up with his finger. “Usually I like playing cat and mouse with you, but I do not like the fact that you appear genuinely scared of me right now.” He hugged your waist and brought you closer to him, lowering his head at the same time. “And that you tried to run away from me when I only want to offer you my protection.”
“It doesn’t sound like protection, it sounds like imprisonment.” You used strong words, but you sounded so small. You did not know what to do with him, you were so scared. ”I’m just scared. I tried to run away because you scared me, Sylus.” You sounded desperate for him to understand you. To look past his own clouded vision.
“You do not have to fear me. I just want what is best for you. For us.” His grip on your waist tightened, and he also proceeded to grab your wrist.
“No. You only want what is best for you. You are not listening to me. I do care about you Sylus, but I cannot leave this place.” You tried to stand your ground but you two never argued before. It was an unfamiliar ground to you, especially when it was the first time that you had a conversation in person. Everything felt more intense and dangerous when you remembered the extreme measures he was always willing to take to achieve his goals.
“You can. And I will make you leave.” He almost growled and a cloud of black and red mist surrounded both of you, and that was enough to bring tears into your eyes.
”Sylus, no, please, I don’t want to. Please, just listen to me, please.” And it was at that moment he started to came into his senses. Your quiet voice and your eyes full of tears made his breathing stop. It was the first time he was seeing you react like this. He hated how broken you sounded. How small. “I’m so scared, Sy, please stop scaring me.” Your voice sounded choked and you could feel that the tears started streaming down your face. Every single one physically hurt him. It was your first meeting and he already made you so miserable. He wanted to scream. “Please.” You tried once again and it shocked you that it finally worked on him.
He tensed and released you from his grip. The mist also dissipated as he took a step back from you. You could hear him breathing deeply.
“I cannot do this." He sounded panicked. “I did not want to scare you, and I cannot listen to your little broken pleas. They break my heart.” He hidden his face in his hands and curled in himself. He felt as if someone pierced his heart with a knife and twisted it. He could not bring himself to look at your beautiful heartbroken face again. “They really do. Please, just stop crying. You won.”
You sniffed softly and touched your wet cheeks. You tried to calm yourself down, he finally listened to you.
“It does not feel so good this time for some reason.” You answered, referring to your Kitty Card battles. You wanted to relieve the tension somehow. You knew that he didn’t want to hurt you, you understand that he lives in a different reality where danger awaits everywhere. You could understand why he wanted to have you beside him at all times. But it scared you how insistent he was, how brutal and final. “Do you really understand why I got so scared?”
He nodded helplessly. “I won’t steal you away. Not when I know how much you despise the idea of spending the rest of your time with me.” You noticed how hard he was pressing his hands to his face and you grabbed them in your own. He let you uncover his eyes and you saw how much it hurt him to let you go.
“Oh, Sy.” You whispered and hugged his hands to your chest. “You know that’s not the reason.”
“Stop calling me that. It drives me crazy.” He breathed and met your eyes. “You drive me crazy. What am I going to do with you? How can I make sure you are safe now?” You took his hands and made him follow you into your bedroom. You sat on your bed and urged him to do the same. This way you could finally talk with him more comfortably.
“Sylus, we have to talk about it.” You squeezed his hands and he looked at yours and took notice of how much smaller they were in comparison to his. So fragile, so breakable. He couldn’t stand it. His whole body longed to protect you. “I do not despise the idea of spending my time with you. I just can’t randomly leave everything I know and love. And this world is different from the one you know, we have our dangers but no one wants my head.” You explained to him slowly. “There are no Wanderers. No protocores.” He looked conflicted.
“I already know that sweetheart. I do. But when you disappeared for such a long time I couldn’t help but think that something bad happened to you” he gritted through his teeth. “I nearly lost my mind looking for you everywhere. It was terrifying, that thought in my mind and the idea that I would never have another chance to speak with you. To see you.” He touched your forearms and brought you a little closer to him. “And when Mephisto found you safe and sound I thought that I never want to feel that fear, that helplessness again. And the only way to do that is to keep you beside me at all times. To guard you with my own body and soul.” He took your hand and rested it on his chest. You could feel the fast and steady rhythm of his heart. You could feel his desperation, his complete devotion. And it almost made you tear up.
“I-I’m so sorry that I made you worry this much.” He studied your face with intention and you shake your head. “But I didn’t even know that you were real. I really thought it was just a game that made me feel less alone and now…” You swallowed audibly. “Now I know that everything I built with you during our time together was very much real and I’m still having trouble to wrap my head around it to be honest.” You smiled at him softly and he nodded with understanding.
“And then you came in and wanted to kidnap me to a world much more dangerous than mine where I do not have my close ones and—“
“I did NOT mean for that to be a kidnapping I though that you shared my sentiment, and also wanted to spend some time—“
“SOME time?? Sylus you wanted me to switch literal worlds and live with you in your freaking villa in the middle of nowhere—”
”I live in an apartment that has a fantastic location, mind you, and you would feel so comfortable in—“
”Apartament??? You cannot possibly be a freaking leader of Onychinus and live in an apartment complex, are you being serious with me right now??”
“Have you ever heard of a saying that the darkest place is under the candlestick, kitten? Besides there is no one in the whole N109 Zone that would pose an actual threat to me—” He cut off when he met your eyes full of laughter, and then he heard that beautiful sound. You burst into giggles right in front of him and you touched him by the bicep and brought his forehead to yours. He couldn’t help but chuckle too, understanding the absurdity of the situation. Feeling your forehead against his, hearing your adorable chuckles and inhaling your sweet scent made him feel so at peace that he closed his eyes to embrace the moment completely. He couldn’t believe that he almost ruined your relationship by being so selfish.
“I missed this. This back and forth with you” You said and he chucked deeply. “I really am happy to see you, Sy. And I swear that we will be able to talk and spent time with each other more often now. And actually see each other in person.” He nuzzled into your face more and you caught his smirk by the corner of your eye. “We can stay in touch at all times, so that you won’t have to worry about my safety so much.”
“So bossy, kitten.” He answered, but the small smile did not leave his face. He couldn’t make it go away even if he tried. “Forgive me for scaring you earlier. I was not thinking straight. I was just so elated to finally have you in my arms that I let my selfishness get the best of me, and for that I’m sorry. I did not want to ruin our first meeting, sweetie.” You hugged him by bringing your arms around his chest and he closed his eyes drinking in the proximity. You were too small, too adorable, too attractive for him to take it. Too honest. Too lovable. Made just for him to adore. To protect.
“You did not ruin anything.” You said into his shirt, hugging him tighter. “I understand you, Sylus. And I like you a little selfish if it means that’s what brought you to me” He smiled into your hair and reluctantly let go of your fragile frame. He touched your chin and delicately lifted your face up to face him. His eyes were once again drinking you in, committing every single one of your features to his memory. He sighed contentedly.
“Selfishness was not the reason of my visit.” You could see how his eyes softened and you felt your chest squeeze. You brushed his cheek, loving the way how he seemed to relish in your touch. His eyes wandered to your lips: pink, plump and so inviting. “Adoration was. The complete love and devotion that I have felt for you for quite some time now.” You gasped quietly and opened your lips slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“Sy—”
“And I guess a little emotional push was what made me finally find my way to you, my beloved.” He half-whispered, leaned in, and pressed his lips to yours, locking you in a sweet, passionate kiss that went on and on, seeming to deepen with every minute you spent in his embrace.
⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year ago
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How they’d react to you not kissing/hugging him before leaving for a mission…
Dick acts as though you told him his ass isn’t that fat in his spandex suit-
He’s insulted.
You always, always remember to kiss his cheek before he leaves. His ‘good luck, be safe and kick ass’ cheek kiss!
It’s your thing as a couple! Do you want to see him cry because he fucking will! He’ll do it!
Dick will pout, huff and whine loud as possible in hopes that you’d realise your error and rectify it tenfold. He won’t tell you what’s wrong. No, he wants and expects you to figure it out for yourself, which doesn’t get him anywhere when you’re looking at him confused and lost as to what he was whining about; Literally.
His mood will be down for the entirety of the day and you’ll no doubt have texts from his teammates and family members asking what was wrong with Dick to look so down.
You’re just as confused as them seeing as how Dick didn’t disclose his innermost thoughts and feelings to you despite being his partner, so you were at a loss on how to help them with something even you weren’t privy to knowing…it’s probably one of your biggest issues as a couple but that’s for another time.
Dick will do that pathetic thing where he looks back at you expectantly the closer he gets towards the door, even going so far as to walk extremely slow when he was within reaching distance of the door handle as to buy you enough time to notice before he genuinely had to leave.
When you don’t however, Dick acts like a kicked puppy for the rest of the day and will proceed to exaggerate to anyone with ears about how his lover was restricting him of his affection.
On the other hand, If you do manage to remember to give him a good luck kiss, planting an extra one on his other cheek for extra, extra luck. Dick will have a permanent smile on his face that will not go the fuck away, even when he’s beating someone’s ass, the smile remains glued on his face as though with gorilla glue.
Seeing Dick brutally beat someone’s ass with a smile was horrifying for anyone to witness but it’s okay bc he’s happy that you remembered to kiss him good luck.
Jason will immediately call you out on your bullshit.
And by that I mean cross his arms over his chest and stare at you saying. ‘Well?’
And you’re like: ‘well what?’
And he’s like: ‘where’s my good luck kiss that you owe me? Roy is waiting on me and here I am waiting on my kiss, so give me my kiss chipmunk.’
Jason doesn’t piss about and gets to the meat of the issue at hand. He wants his good luck kisses and he wants them now and he will not leave the apartment until he gets them.
You’d raise a brow at his not so subtle neediness for your affection and decided to tease him. ‘I thought you didn’t need my good luck kisses remember? You’re a big boy who can fight with or without my good luck kisses.’
Jason groans, not expecting you to pull that out. ‘I said that one time. One time and I was being a dick back then too because all you wanted to do was show me that you cared about me and didn’t want me to get hurt.’
You smiled and got up from the couch and walked over to him, resting your hands on his biceps. ‘So now that you admit that you were a dick and the way that you acted was wrong…’ you trailed off as you pressed a kiss to his lips once, twice, three times because you loved to kiss Jason whenever possible and will try to plant as many kisses as you could.
‘Thanks chipmunk.’ Jason murmurs against your lips, feeling everything has gone back to being right again. ‘Now I better be off or Roy will tease me for lingering too long-‘
‘Too late.’ Roy said from the doorway and Jason closed his eyes and silently curse while you smiled and waved at Roy. ‘Hi Roy!’ You said. ‘Hi y/n, mind letting Jason come out to play?’ Roy joked. You played along by making a thoughtful face as Jason mutters under his breath; ‘are you being serious right now?’
You snapped your fingers. ‘As long as you make sure Jason doesn’t get into trouble then yes, he may go out and play.’
‘I hate you both.’ Jason groaned as he walked past you and playfully shoved Roy aside to leave the apartment. Roy then cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted after him. ‘Are you sure you don’t want your goodbye kisses?’ You and Roy laugh together upon hearing Jason cursing him out from a distance.
Damian acts indifferent about it.
He doesn’t need a good luck hug, hell! he doesn’t need luck at all!
He’s skilled enough to win any fight without relying on something silly as Luck. Luck was just probability under a different name and definition. (A/n: Don’t quote me on that.)
So when you forget to give him a hug before a mission, Damian doesn’t think anything of it but it will linger in his mind unnecessarily much to his annoyance.
Why was he so hung up on not getting something a silly as a hug? Or was he instead more upset over the fact that you, his closest friend/partner, completely forgot about it as though it wasn’t anything worth remembering.
Either way he was conflicted and didn’t know how to go about saying any of this to you without getting frustrated over his apparent loss for words. He was a man of action more then anything so when he finally catches up to you, he will stride towards you and stop just a couple of inches and silently stare at you with his resting bitch face.
‘Damian?’ You asked. ‘Are you okay?’
Damian doesn’t say anything because he couldn’t think of anything to say in that moment and instead stays silent as to save himself from further embarrassment.
‘Damian?’ You asked again, getting worried over his unusual silence. ‘I can’t help you if you don’t tell me-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Damian had lunged towards you and brought you into a very tight hug. You smile softly and gladly hugged Damian back, not saying a single word other then;
‘You don’t need me to say it but I’ll reaffirm it anyway, you’ll do great out there Dami. I know you will.’
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aromacaque · 2 years ago
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i need a service dog so i can curl up in a ball on the floor in the middle of the cereal isle while i'm grocery shopping and have no one bother me because my big dog is blocking me from being perceived. and then i pet him to calm myself down and can just Stare at the dog and nothing else because everything else is too overwhelming and pretend i am not in a giant store surrounded by the Horrors (fluorescent lights and giant open spaces with people i have to interact with)
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rafecameronssl4t · 6 months ago
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My say || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: an argument between reader and rafe about having a nanny for your son.
Warnings: heavy angst!!! Mentions of breastfeeding
Word count: 1,283
A/n: I hope this kinda gvives you a better insight of what reader x rafe's relationship is like!! I AM SO EXCITED TO CONTINUE WRITING FOR THIS AU!!! send thru any requests you might have :)
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
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divider by @h-aewo
“Y/n, you can’t be serious,” Rafe says, his voice laced with disbelief as he stares at you, searching your face for any sign that you might be joking. But your expression remains unyielding, eyes steady as you readjust Leo in your arms, his small hands clutching at you as he feeds. “I’m serious,” you say, your tone casual as you shrug, though the gravity of your words lingers heavily between you.
The tension in the room is palpable. Rafe scoffs, a bitter sound escaping his lips as he shakes his head in disbelief. Without another word, he pushes himself up from the couch, his movements stiff with frustration. He crosses the room with purposeful strides, heading straight for the bar cart. The clink of the whisky bottle against the glass is sharp in the silence, followed by the harsh slam of the glass hitting the cart, the sound echoing through the stillness of the room.
“He hasn’t even turned one yet, and you’re already considering leaving him in the care of someone we don’t even know?” Rafe’s voice is strained with disbelief, his eyes narrowing as he struggles to grasp your logic. . “What is this really about? You want more time for yourself? To get your hair and nails done, meet up with your friends, take boat rides?” His voice is laced with incredulity, each word carrying a mix of accusation and frustration as if he can’t believe you would even consider such a thing.
“You want to hand him over to a stranger—someone who doesn’t know his little habits, his cries, the way he needs to be held to fall asleep?” Rafe’s words tumble out in a rush, his voice thick with a blend of incredulity and concern. It’s as if he can’t even comprehend how you could entertain the idea, the very thought seeming impossible to him.
You let out a soft, disbelieving snort, shaking your head. “And you do, Rafe? You think you know him better than anyone else?” Your voice drips with sarcasm as you meet his gaze, your eyes daring him to challenge you. “When was the last time you were the one pacing the floor at 3 in the morning, trying to calm him down? When have you spent hours figuring out his cries, trying to understand what he needs?”
Rafe stares at you, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. “You’re his mother—” But before he can finish, you cut him off, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. “And I’m trying, Rafe! I’m trying so hard, but it never feels like enough. I can’t seem to get it right, no matter what I do.” Your voice cracks as the weight of your words hangs between you, the raw vulnerability in your tone cutting through the tension like a knife.
“I’m 21, for heaven’s sake!” you exclaim, your frustration boiling over. “I’m still figuring this out, and every day feels like a battle. I’m doing my best, but it’s like I’m constantly failing.” The words spill out in a rush, your voice wavering with the pressure of trying to live up to expectations that feel impossible to meet.
Rafe’s eyes narrow as he leans forward, his voice biting, “Don’t sit there and pretend you weren’t raised for this,” Rafe says, his voice cold and cutting. “You knew from the moment your parents arranged this marriage that your role was to be a mother. They didn’t raise you to chase dreams or find yourself—they raised you to bear children, to fulfill your duty as a wife. So don’t act like this is some surprise or burden you weren’t prepared for.”
You feel a sharp pang in your chest as Rafe’s harsh words sink in, his coldness taking you by surprise. For a moment, you’re too stunned to respond, the sting of his accusation cutting deeper than you expected. You roll your eyes, more out of defense than annoyance, trying to push the hurt aside. Exhaling slowly, you steady yourself, refusing to let him see how much his words have affected you.
“Leo will have a nanny,” you say, your voice firmer than you feel. “This isn’t up for debate.” The words come out with a finality that leaves no room for argument, though the hurt lingers beneath your resolve. “End of conversation.” Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose, his frustration boiling over into raw anger.
“No, he will not!” he snaps, his voice sharp and intense. “I won’t have a stranger looking after our son—my son!” His words are a burst of anger, his eyes blazing as he struggles to contain the fury coursing through him. You roll your eyes again, your patience wearing thin as Rafe's anger fuels your own frustration.
“You’re being dramatic, Rafe,” you retort, trying to keep your tone steady despite your mounting irritation. “In my family, we all had nannies before we were even four months old—” But before you can finish, Rafe’s voice rises in a harsh yell that slices through your words. “This is our family, Y/N!” he shouts, his frustration exploding into full-blown anger.
“Our family! Not just yours. We don’t have to raise our children the way your parents did!” His voice echoes with the force of his rage, the intensity of his glare adding to the weight of his outburst. His voice reverberates off the walls, filling the room with a palpable tension as Leo starts to fuss.
His soft whimpers quickly escalate into full-blown cries, the sound piercing through the charged atmosphere. You flinch at the noise, your heart tightening with a mix of anger and frustration. “Will you lower your voice?” you snap, your own frustration surfacing as you hastily adjust your top, trying to soothe Leo by bouncing him gently in your arms.
Rafe runs a hand through his buzz cut, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh. His shoulders are tense as he plants his hands on his hips, watching you with a mixture of frustration and disbelief while you struggle to soothe Leo. “Look what you’ve done,” you say sharply, your voice cracking with frustration as you glare at him. “He was perfectly calm before you started yelling.”
Rafe’s eyes flash with irritation as he retorts, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, blame it all on me,” he snaps, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He turns and heads towards the door, clearly ready to escape the charged atmosphere. As he walks past you, you reach out and grip his arm, the strength in your hold betraying your desperation.
He stops and looks down at you, his expression softening slightly as he registers the plea in your eyes. “Please, just don’t argue with me right now,” you say, your voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “Leo will be better off with someone who knows what they’re doing.” The earnestness in your plea hangs heavy in the air, cutting through the tension.
Rafe takes a deep breath, the anger in his eyes giving way to a more contemplative look. “I get to choose who the nanny is,” he says, his voice still firm but less harsh. You nod slowly, a quiet resignation in your expression as you release his arm, allowing him to leave.
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