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#but he shows up sometimes with the rain
alumirp · 27 days
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it happens when hes seven. He blinks and suddenly all he can see is blue, above and below, sky and sea. bright, shining blue, totally different from the pearly white walls and ceiling of his room. he blinks again, but the blue is still there.
He hears a grunt, full with confusion that he himself did not feel. after all, law was warned that this day would come. turning around, hes faced with a tall man, so much taller than him that it is ridiculous, and in the tall mans hands, there is the smallest baby of all time.
laws father was the one to explain why Lami would just disappear sometimes. as she in fact wasnt disappearing, she was being teleported closer to her soulmate. every day, once or twice she would disappear for a period of time and then appear again
lami was older than her soulmate by only a few months, but that made her the one who was pulled across the sea. soulmates worked like that, their father told him. they werent meant to be apart, so they didn't.
the older of a pair would be teleported to the younger one, so they could spend time together. law would also be taken to his soulmate one day, he just had to wait and be prepared to take care of them, since he was clearly the oldest one.
then he blinks and looks at the tall man and thinks that logically it is impossible that this is his soulmate, his eyes focus on the baby, the tiny baby that squirms in the mans arms and law knows that it is them
a moment later, the man seems to finally understand the situation. law watches his tired expression twist into one of resignation as he kneels down and shows him the baby.
''this is luffy.'' the man says, and he sounds loving, as if the baby is precious to him law just stares dumbly as the little baby grimaces, irritated at being moved and pulled from his slumber. he watches as the little round face contorts and suddenly the boat is filled with loud crying coming from the red faced baby when the man moves to rock the baby, a panicked expression on his face, its laws turn to grimace, impulsively approaching and pulling the man's cape.
"youre holding him wrong! you will only make him cry even more!" he makes him sit down, adjusts his posture, placing the babys head on the mans arm, ignoring the confused and curious looks he gets throughout the process. he does everything the same way he saw his father doing on the hospital once it takes a moment to get the baby to stop crying, but when they finally do, law finally asks.
"where is his mother? he might be hungry."
the man doesnt answer, a pained expression on his face and Law figures that its the wrong question to ask, so he continues. ''where are we going?''
"somewhere he will be safe." the man says, holding the baby tighter, a weird look in his eyes.
law blinks and "you're going to abandon him"
he watches as the man stiffens and sighs. "a child like you wouldnt understand." "my parents work in a hospital." law says, looking away from the man to luffy. "theres a little girl there, she was abandoned by her parents because shes sick. she has friends, she has nurses and doctors and even the nuns, but she always looks extremely lonely." the man finally looks at him, as if only now truly seeing law. law looks back.
''you shouldnt let him be lonely too. maybe he will never know of your existence, but I know he will miss your presence.''
and with that, when law blinks again, hes back in his room.
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salsa-di-pomodoro · 1 year
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Headcanon time. Five Pebbles would hate being held in any way unless he specifically started or consented to it because otherwise it would make him feel small and or powerless
(look at my tags boy)
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vodka-and-ocs · 11 months
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Dungeons & Inkwells 16: Half-orc sorcerer
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pyrriax · 3 months
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ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think 🙏
#haunted ecosystem#i'll take a burst of creativity in a different form than usual than the burnout slump i've been in for a few months#<- part of why my fandom stuff has taken a smidge of a backseat#dont get me wrong i am still very excited about my fandoms im just having fun off in oc hell (affectionate)#its nice to just be able to create and not really worry about perception. and also i feel Less bad about just throwing ocs into the wringer#((blame the fact i've been REALLY interested in whump recently and i have been. fixated. on one of my characters.))#and ALSO i've been! rekindling my flame for wtds. i've been putting off thinking about it since that fic got.#nothing bad happened? but it was still very devastating that somebody who i considered a friend from that fic just. evaporated.#but i'm gonna finish that fic for him :) even if it takes a year. even if it's the one thing i finish ever. it'll be wtds.#for where its gotten me and the fact its what got me out of my shell and is the reason i trust that my writing is good!#i used to really hate rereading my work. i catch flaws that are obvious to me. but that fic. i just think about how *good* the story is#that story means. a lot to me? as a person? like the main character is not a good person. but people care about him anyway.#and there are so many little things. so many sentiments. so much that is a love letter to people who've done bad but learnt to do better#because. god knows i wasnt a good person even just a few years ago. and maybe i see myself in him a bit.#he came from a place of paranoia and fear and pain. and maybe its a good thing that i've found it difficult to write him recently.#because god. i've been HAPPY. even with the rough moments and bad days. i've been happy. i mean fuck.#my birthday's what. ten days away? god damn man. i'm going to be 18. that's an achievement.#i want to look the kid who thought it was over at half my age and tell him we fucking made it. and there are more years to come.#there's a life ahead. even if it's going to be a bitch. even if it's going to be tough. there's love in your heart and people who care and#you're going to fucking live and you're going to feel better one day. you have people to meet properly and thank and cherish.#because for every day it feel like the world's ending there are a dozen more where the sun shines just the right way through the rain#and you can't help but smile because it's just so god damn beautiful.#and fuck it. you're sick. your hands hurt and your legs don't work right. and it's tough sometimes. but you have people who understand.#you have people who honest to god love you for who you are and appreciate your company. and 18 is the first step.#you've spent half your life unlearning things and you've spent half your life relearning how to be what YOU want to be#and if you're a mediocre artist and passionate writer then you'll be fucking great at that. taking the time to learn when it strikes you.#and maybe this is for me. but its also for anybody reading it too. please god if there's one thing you take from this let it be that#somebody out there cares. *I* care. god i care. even if we've never spoken proper i care about you.#i practically have a list of everybody i see in my inbox. i love seeing familiar names show up. i.#i dont know how to neatly wrap up this tag ramble. but. i am so damn full of love it hurts sometimes. its scary to be happy but thats ok!
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aberooski · 2 years
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MODERN GX AU WHERE THEY DON'T GO TO SCHOOL NEXT TO A FUCKING ACTIVE VOLCANO AND LIKE ON THE MAINLAND AND THE SCHOOL EVEN THOUGH IT'S A HIGH SCHOOL IS STRUCTURED LIKE A COLLEGE WHERE THEY HAVE DIFFERENT LIKE MAJORS AND DEPARTMENTS SO THE KIDS CAN FOCUS MORE ON THEIR SPECIFIC INTEREST AND ASPIRATIONS AND THEY CAN HAVE REGULAR SCHOOL STUFF TOO LIKE SCHOOL MUSICALS AND P R O M AND-
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autistickfigure · 2 years
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im going to sleep now
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keeping LOGAN HOWLETT company when you notice him having a bad day
implied fem!reader. grumpy x sunshine. fluff
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idk when this is set, bc xmen timelines confuse the fuck out of me. and yeah sorry, another fic for him. I can’t stop with ideas, im like a freight train
It wasn’t always easy to deal with Logan when he was this way – his grumpy, closed-off self retreating into his once far more reserved ways. Sometimes after a bad day he’d shut himself off, only finding the comfort at the bottom of an empty whiskey bottle. 
He has to remember he has you now. He’s no longer alone.
He’s out on the porch, sitting on the steps, elbows on his knees with a crystal tumbler clasped in hand. It was starting to rain, the clouds spitting as if to add insult to injury – the weather mirroring his feelings. 
You wanted to give him time – give a moment for him to come to you. But as you see the rain fall harder, his exposed self sitting under a heavy patch of downpour, you grab your umbrella from its nook by the front door. 
You open the door slowly, trying not to startle him with the abrupt noise. 
“Hi,” you say, voice soft. “Can I keep you company?” you ask, hesitant footing keeping you in place.
He nods, moving the bottle from his side to between his booted feet – making space for you. He keeps his eyes ahead, looking out into the forest.
You sit beside him, holding the umbrella higher up to shield you both, scooting in closer when you notice parts of him left out under the covering. 
“Do uh—” you stall, turning to look at the side of him. “Do you want to talk about it?” you question, speaking carefully as not push him away further. 
“Nothing much to say,” he murmurs, words quiet and distracted as he swirls the amber liquid in the glass – eyes focused as he watches its motion.
You pause and fiddle with the handle of the brolly, uncertain of what to say. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, but instead, it was the opposite. You were so comfortable that you didn’t want your keenness to act as a repellent. So you wait, trying to find the words he wants to hear. Not what you think he wants to hear. 
And then you realise, the reason it was so hard to find words, is because no words should even be said at all. Words often hold no meaning, but actions, they do. He doesn't want verbal comfort, but instead something physical, something silent and earnest. 
So you rest your head on his shoulder, leaning into him as if to voicelessly show your care – the act sweet and gentle. He raises his glass to take a sip only to pause, pulling it away as if he was questioning its use. His eyes focused on the small amount at the bottom like he was debating with himself.
But he decides against it, placing the tumbler aside – his now free hand finding itself reaching over your shoulders to pull you into him. He takes the umbrella from your hand, holding it as he shields you both from the rain – replacing your job as he thought it to be his.
And like him, your hand now empty, you find yourself reaching behind him – wrapping an arm around his back as if to further the comfort. You nuzzle your head into his burly shoulder, nestling against him as you both look out into the vast expanse of greyscale brown and green. 
“I’m here when you’re ready.”
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 1 month
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♡ ring pops, chocolates, proposals ! ♡
katsuki loves you throughout the years.
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BOOM !! surprise extra on your foreheads !!! this is basically a lil extra to rpp from katsu n readers pov ! i thought it was cute n i hope yall enjoy it too <33 !! much luv xx
fem reader, slight anime n manga spoilers ! food (candy and chocolate), jealous katsuki, mentions of dicks bc katsuki calls someone one, katsuki n reader are in their 20s, reader loves rain, katsuki does not, proposal, kissinggg, reader likes romance (implied sligthly), katsuki does not (kinda), soft n emotional katsuki bc I LOVE HIM FIGHT MEEE!!! RAAHHH!!!, short n sweet, proposal, lmk if i missed sum else !! <33
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"for you."
katsuki, age 6 stands in front of you. no more words are said from him as he looks off to the side, beet red face turned away from you with outstretched hands. and clutched tightly in his hands, a ring pop in your favourite color.
you beam, immediately taking it from him. "thank you, katsu !" you chirp, quickly popping the candy into your mouth. katsuki's shoulders relax when he sees you've taken the offering from him although he doesn't meet your eye fully just yet.
"do you wanna share ?" you ask sweetly, already reaching out your candy towards him seeing that he didn't have one of his one in hand. he furiously shakes his head, pushing your hand back towards you.
"no ! and this one's for you ! i already got one.." he insists, shoveling around in his backpack before the crinkle of a wrapper grabs both of your attention. he pulls out the bag of sweet ring pops and picks out an orange one for himself. showing it to you while his eyes drift away from yours. you smile, seeing that you can both eat candy together now.
"i-it's a ring. so..you're my wife," he states. your big eyes widen at him and his glowing red cheeks. you look back down at the candy you've been eating pressed around your finger. it's bigger than the rings you see on tv.
you like katsuki. he was a little rough sometimes, and he could be a little mean. but he always played with you and shared his coloured pencils. he'd sit in the reading corner with you and hold your hand when you'd go on field trips.
"oh, really ?" your face heats, he nods. "want you to be my wife, cus haruto's always lookin' at you..a-an' you're my friend. not his." he mumbles bitterly. you like haruto, he's nice to you, but not as much as katsuki. katsuki was your best friend.
"does that make you my husband then ?" katsuki gets red to the tips of his ears and his nose is practically pressed into the collar of his shirt but he nods anyways. you beam again, the taste of the flavoured candy still on your lips. " i like that !"
katsuki blinks at you, chubby little cheeks pulling into a smirk and he drops to sit down next to you roughly on the grass. finally popping his own ring in his mouth.
"then you're my wife, yeah ?" you nod and he grins, you hear the candy clack around his mouth. "means you're only ever gonna be with me." and you nod again happily because you like that, you like the thought of only being with katsuki, because he's your best friend ever.
"mhm !"
"..forever." he adds tentatively and when you nod again he snickers to himself.
wait till stupid deku hears about this.
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valentine's day was fucking stupid. and white day was even stupider.
besides them being the corniest holidays ever, katsuki finds the whole concept stupid. why do you need an entire day just to grow the balls to tell someone you like them ? and the worst part is that some fuckers have the audacity to try that shit with you.
katsuki remembers when he'd started despising the stupid holidays. it was in his first year of middle school and you opened up your locker to see some chocolates and a hand written note.
it was cheesy. and fucking stupid. but you smiled about it.
you fucking liked it.
the bastard even had the nerve to walk up to you at the end of the day, when you're supposed to go home with katsuki and end up coming over to his house to do your homework together (so he could stare at you) then stay over for dinner and play some video games (so he could touch you, poke your sides to make you trip up and pinch your nose when you end up losing to him) or watch a movie (so he could hear you laugh)
you were supposed to be all his. but instead you reassure him that you'll be back in a second.
and katsuki's antsy and so annoyed his skin prickles, but he swallows it down and drags his feet towards the gates as he waits, like hell he'll leave you alone with some limp dick bastard.
he did feel better when you said you rejected the loser, and he felt much better when you still ended up spending the afternoon with him. but he couldn't stop thinking about it.
valentine's day and such was so fucking stupid in katsuki's eyes. but maybe you liked it ? you never cared much for romance outside of those stupid rom-coms you like, but maybe there was more to it.
katsuki couldn't admit it to himself then, but he hates the holidays because there's a whole day for him to grow some balls and ask you out. and yet he couldn't fucking do it.
until his first year at u.a. and you hand him a box of chocolates.
dark chocolate, you specified. "since i know you don't really like sweets all that much." you said. the slight tremble in your voice made him swallow harshly. it felt different than the chocolates you'd handed out to your classmates earlier (which he was absolutely not jealous about. at all.) and the sheer size of the box compared to the little baggies you'd handed spoke too.
these were different. these were just for him.
his bag feels extra heavy when he walks home that day, and he's never loved chocolate more than the day you'd made some just for him.
"the chocolates weren't bad." was all he'd texted you (he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk to you properly on the phone that day lest you heard the shakiness in his voice.) but he knew what he needed to do.
and a few months later, white day rolls around and katsuki still thinks it sucks. it's a stupid holiday. but he spent the entire day making these stupid holiday chocolates for you. and his ears burn when he tells you that he only made these for you, because you're the only one he cares about enough to make some stupid chocolates for on a holiday he hates.
and you smile, so bright and pretty and so you. and katsuki feels like he's on top of the world when you shyly kiss his cheek, your hand in his grip on your way home.
he guessed he'll have to tell his mom about this..and maybe think about thanking her.
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the day katsuki plans to propose to you, it rains.
and not even regular rain, a fucking downpour.
and due to prior experiences and feelings he’s had since childhood, he fucking hates rain.
but you love it. when you were kids you loved jumping in puddles and during morning time, you were drowsier and more prone to falling asleep when it was raining. when you got older, you'd always gasp happily when it started to rain, even though katsuki scoffed every time you did, mean mugging the window. he'd asked you what you liked about rain every year you were together, because it was cold, it made the ground sloshy and slippery and it made his quirk basically obsolete when he was younger and harder to use the older he got. there was absolutely nothing fun about that. and you'd always tell him the same exact thing.
"i like it 'cus i just do." you'd respond simply. he always raised a brow at you, but let it be. he couldn't change your mind about it and that was it.
with his proposal plans down the gutter, you're cuddling bed. you yawn in his arms, the tapping against the window putting you at ease. katsuki can admit it's not ear grating, but he'd much rather it just—not rain at all. and he wishes that so much more now, stupid fucking rain..ruining his fucking plans to fucking marry you..
"why do you like this shit so much ?" he asks you the question he's been asking you for years now as you lay against his warm chest. he doesn't mean to do it, only realising he's been asking you this practically all his life after the fact. and it makes him realise how long you've been together when you calmly respond the way you always have, cheekily smiling up at him.
you stick your tongue out at him "i like it 'cus i just do."
oh. fuck.
katsuki doesn't know exactly why that sets him off. maybe because the fact you've been together for two decades makes him emotional. maybe it's because throughout all these years your answer hasn't changed and you haven't changed and your feelings haven't changed for him. you still smile up at him, you did when you were kids when he'd asked you to be his wife with those cheap ring pops he'd begged his mom to buy. you did in middle school even when he thought you had a crush on izuku for a while and it made him act in such an embarrassing way he doesn't want to remember it, but he does anyway. you smiled up at him when he'd asked you out with the chocolates he'd spend hours working on, making them perfect for you. and when he'd told you to just move in with him because "you're basically here all the time anyway."
you've always been there, and he's always loved you. since the day you'd mesmerised him so much at six years old he had to talk to his mom about you.
katsuki absolutely fucking hates rain, and he doubts that'll change anytime soon, and it ruined his perfect proposal. but he can't hear the rain in his ears anymore when he abruptly flips you onto your back to kiss you. all he hears in the tiny giggles you let out when he smacks three wet kisses onto your lips before diving in for a longer one. i love you, they say. he can only hear your fingers sneaking into his hair and scratching at his scalp and the happy sigh you let out when he runs his tongue across your lips.
"m'breath stinks," you mumble drowsily, katsuki grumbles, pulling away just far enough to tell you "i don't give a fuck." and diving in again. you squeal in surprise. it's all he hears.
"fuckin' love you." he grunts against your lips, you hum, briefly able to pull away to catch your breath to tell him you love him too, and pulling him closer to you, the rustling of your sheets, yours and his, is all he hears.
"yeah ? you love me ?" he whispers, going to nibble at your ear. he's all over you, pressing sloppy kisses along your neck and you giggle, "mhm, love you." you sigh.
"fuck.." he breathes again, bringing his face back up to yours he presses his forehead to yours "fuck—so," he places another kiss to your lips, he gulps "so marry me."
and then you blink at him "what ?" you breathe heavily, softly chuckling. and the rapid beating of his heart is all he hears, but then your eyes go glossy and you whisper, voice broken and wobbly "..what ?"
he huffs to himself, his hands search for yours and intertwine when he finds them. like the day he'd pulled you over to his mom so he could ask her to let you come over to play at his house. like when you'd offered it to him when he took you to prom and you looked more beautiful than he could ever utter. he wonders how you'd look during your wedding. he's thought about it more times than he can count.
he takes a deep breath, not pulling away "i wasn't supposed to tell you like this, fuckin rain.." he scoffs. "but—fuck, i just—you've always been there, always been with me. since i was a snot nosed fuckin' brat and at times were you shoulda left my ass." he's forgotten the shit he wanted to say, simply blurting out what's on his mind. he feels a little bad, because kirishima had helped him with his speech, but his heart beats too hard to care.
"but m'glad you didn't. m'glad you didn't before and i'm glad you haven't now 'cus i love you so fuckin' much." you let out a giggle mixed with a little sob at his constant nervous cursing and it makes him smile lightly too.
"i know there are times where i've been a pretty shit boyfriend but..but i mean it, y'know ?" he sniffs a bit, and you shake your head "you've never been a shit boyfriend, suki. just a bit of a pain in my ass sometimes," you giggle but your eyes are overflowing with tears. he chuckles and fights back tears of his own with a sniffle again.
"yeah, major pain..but even still i—when i told you i wanted you to be my wife back when we were kids, i meant it. an' when that fuckin loser tried to ask you out on valentines day in middle school, i wanted to knock his fuckin' teeth in." he smirks, and you try to hide your laugh with a gasp "wanted to tell him you were mine."
"you're such a baby. i remember how pouty you were about it."
" i wasn't pouty," he rolls his eyes, his smile doesn't disappear. he wipes away a tear about to roll down your cheek before you can get his your shirt sleeve wetter then it already is "you could've just told me back then," you whisper, holding onto the hand on your cheek and pressing a kiss to his palm. katsuki feels his heart swell.
"i should've told you a lot of shit back then," he laments. he remembers when shigaraki put holes in him and the constant flashes of you on his mind. when he woke up in the hospital and you'd been there and he just couldn't tell you those three words. he'd figured that since you were both alive, he could tell you later when shit was less..messy.
except shit kept getting messier, and then when katsuki blew a hole into his heart he'd wished he could've told you how much he loved you.
but then he had gotten another chance, another chance to be with you. to be the best damn boyfriend in the world like he'd promised you he'd be, to make you happy, and he didn't care if shit got even messier, he didn't care to be scared. when he woke up with his mom and dad, a doctor and you. everything else blurred in his mind and despite your runny nose and your mix of how much you'd missed him and how worried you were but also scolding him on how much of a dummy he was, katsuki couldn't help but smile.
his mom still teases him about how the first words that he'd blurted out after waking up from his operation getting chastised by doctors were "fuck, i love you."
"but, i won't regret not telling you shit anymore. i won't wait any longer either," he kicks out of the sheets, reaching for the lowest drawer of his nightstand to pull out a little red box, grabbing you with him and placing you down right in front of him. he kneels down on one knee, like when he used to tie your shoelaces for you because you didn't know how to, and how he does to this day because 'you want to crack your head against the side walk so bad, but i don't wanna see that shit.'
he grabs your hand, and with a wobbly voice asks you "will you marry me ?"
and finally, katsuki stops hearing his own heart beat and hears the gentle tapping of the rain, still pouring, but it puts him slightly at ease when you nod and squeal out a 'yes !'
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<33
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slvttyplum · 4 months
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if suguru wanted to fuck you, he was going to fuck you. no matter where y’all were or what y’all were wearing, he was going to bend you over, have you on top of him, and get to fucking. he was never going to miss out on a nut. 
y’all fucked so many times on the way home that one of his tires busted, and did he give a fuck? not one, because the way you gripped around him was worth every penny that came out of his pocket.
if the windows in the car weren’t fogged up, then that means he didn’t fuck you like he needed to be fucked, which means that all the cum he was currently holding back wasn't all out. 
suguru just couldn’t resist finding an empty parking lot and fucking you then and there; it was like an itch that needed to be scratched when it came to you, especially if you were looking a little too good. 
oh, your way to a party? pulled over on your way to dinner? pulled over. he didn’t care how many times he had to stop the car; he didn’t even give a fuck if it was raining; if you made his dick hard, he was going to get you. 
he didn't have good enough restraint when it came to you, so if he wanted to pull your panties to the side and fuck you in the rain, he had to do what he had to do. 
on the other hand, i was right there with him; if he wanted to fuck you, you, of course, were with it; his dick was too good for you to pass on any given day. plus, it flattered you that he was so in love with you that his dick got hard every time he looked at you; it was one of the perks of being with someone who had a high sex drive and stamina.
condoning every action he took to fuck you. of course, if it were anyone else, they would probably be annoyed by him making the both of you late, but you never mind, and sometimes he was even considerate of the event and would just go there, show your faces, and sneak out to the parking lot to fuck. 
if anything, it added a thrill to whatever you were doing. just the thought of being out in the open like that turned the both of you on; it had blood pumping throughout your bodies throughout the whole ordeal. 
throughout the whole year, you could confidently say that the both of you had sex in the car over a hundred times, which isn't that much but definitely more than the average couple. having to go get the inside of his car cleaned every weekend because of the beautiful messes the two of you would make, suguru almost didn't want to go get it cleaned because it reminded him of a reward.
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luna-azzurra · 4 months
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Some tips on the do’s and don’ts of adding more description to your Writing
Do‘s:
Make your writing come alive by describing things that appeal to the senses. Instead of saying "It was a beautiful garden," you could say "The garden was filled with the scent of fresh roses, the sound of buzzing bees, and the vibrant colors of blooming flowers."
Instead of just saying what something is like, show it through your words. For instance, instead of saying "She was sad," you could describe her actions and surroundings to show her sadness: "Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared out the rain-streaked window, clutching a crumpled tissue in her hand."
Instead of using general words, get specific. Instead of saying "He drove a car," you could say "He drove a sleek, black convertible, the wind tousling his hair as he sped down the open highway."
Keep your writing interesting by mixing up short and long sentences. Don't always write in the same way. For example, "The sky was dark. The trees swayed in the wind. It felt eerie," could be improved by adding variety: "Dark clouds gathered overhead, causing the trees to sway ominously in the gusting wind, casting an eerie feeling over the landscape."
Use your descriptions to set the mood of your story. Instead of just saying "It was a scary place," describe the setting to evoke fear in your readers: "The abandoned house loomed in the moonlight, its broken windows and creaking doors whispering of unseen terrors lurking within."
Don't just drop descriptions randomly into your writing. Make sure they fit naturally into the flow of your story. Instead of stopping the action to describe something, weave it into the narrative: "As she ran through the forest, the branches clawed at her skin, leaving scratches like whispers of the dangers lurking in the shadows."
While descriptions are important, don't forget to keep your story moving forward. Don't spend too much time describing things at the expense of the action. Find a balance between describing the scene and keeping the plot moving.
Don't:
Using too many adjectives can make your writing sound cluttered and overwhelming. Stick to the essentials and choose your words carefully.
Don't forget that dialogue and interactions between characters are key parts of your story. Use them to reveal personality and move the plot forward.
Don't repeat yourself. Once you've described something, trust your readers to remember it. Don't keep saying the same thing over and over again.
Sometimes, what you don't say can be just as important as what you do say. Let your readers read between the lines and draw their own conclusions.
Avoid using tired old phrases that everyone has heard before. Try to come up with fresh, original descriptions that will grab your readers' attention.
Be mindful of the pace of your story. Don't slow things down with long descriptions in the middle of an action scene. Save the detailed descriptions for quieter moments when the pace naturally slows down.
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shhhhimwatchingthis · 3 months
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Interview With the Vampire is like...
Here is our protagonist hes going to tell you a story. But some of it he's remembered wrong -- was it raining that night? And some of it he's obfuscating or skirting or deliberately lying about. He's admitted the first time he tried to tell this story was a performance. Also he hallucinates, sometimes. Oh, and there are characters who can erase and alter memories. When does he mix up a detail? When is he lying? When is he telling what he thinks is the truth but he's just wrong or being lied to himself?
Here's Claudia's diaries. The written word, in her own words. Surely we can trust them! Except she knew her diaries were being read by her fathers/brothers/jailors. She had reason to present her life in a certain way in those writings, reasons to not write down everything. And same as any other person,even if she was writing the truth, she was limited by her perspective of what that was. Here are her diaries but some of the pages have been ripped out, censored by other people.
Here is Rashid. Except no, he's really the vampire Armand. He can erase memories. He was pretending to be someone else. His name was never Rashid. It isn't really Armand either, he doesn't even know his own name, or all of his own story, Armand will do.
Here is Real Rashid. Even Rashid isn't what he appears to be. He works for a shadowy organization.
Here is Daniel Malloy, our journalist, our interviewer. It is his job to ask questions, provide evidence reveal the truth. But even he can't trust his own altered memories. He has time he can't account for, gaps in his memories from years of drug abuse and one bad trip from a week of drug AND vampire abuse. He is not an objective observer, he too is a part of the story he is trying to tell.
Here is Lestat de Lioncourt. Except not really. maybe once at the end. Here he is through memories, and other peoples stories and hearsay. Here is the seducer, the boogieman, the abuser, the victim, the Vampire. He haunts the narrative, and starts the narrative, and is, in many ways, the bleeding heart of the tragic narrative and he never tells his own story in his own words.
Here is a trial. Except its a play--prewritten, rehearsed! the accused can barely speak for themselves. The audience has no choice but to laugh along to the story being shoved down their throats. its only a story. You can see the fake limp rope, when that one vampire 'flies' - its all pretend, its all a show...right?
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stiingrayyyy · 6 months
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Dating Headcanons F.H
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What it’s Like to Date Five Hargreeves
Pairings — Five Hargreeves x Reader (pronouns not specified)
Summary — My headcanons for if you were Five’s lover.
Warnings — opinions, no plot, it’s all over the place, last one is semi-NSFW.
A/N — i try to avoid nsfw with five because yk.. in the show, he’s physically thirteen but this one was too funny not to add. let’s all just pretend there was a happy ending okay 😭😭. i wrote this before season four came out so let’s pretend it ended happily.
— if you want another version where it’s just headcanons of you and five in the apocalypse i’m down for that.
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— I see headcanons where Five is straight up mean, manipulative, and where he’s just using you.
— To me, that’s not Five being in love with you. Have you seen how he treats Delores? HE’S SO SWEET TO HER.
— So if you’re his lover, he will give you princess treatment like no other, holy shit.
—He’ll prepare breakfast so it’s ready to be eaten when you wake up.
— He thinks breakfast in bed is a recipe for disaster so he never does that.
— If you take a while to wake up he’ll wake you up.
— “My love, breakfast is ready.” He’ll whisper into your ear before pressing a kiss onto your temple, then one on your forehead, then your nose… then finally a chaste kiss on your lips.
— He’ll tuck you in bed at night and make sure you’re all snug before leaving. If you can’t sleep he’ll read to you.
— With him around, you genuinely never have to open a door. In addition to paying for every meal, he always walks on the outside of the sidewalk. He also pulls the chair out for you when you sit and showers you with praise.
— Sometimes the praise is simple whispers in your ear because he isn’t much into PDA.
— There was never an official wedding, he stole two matching rings and gave one to you.
— He’d like to have an official wedding.
— If he has to worry about the apocalypse he’ll probably neglect you only because he thinks the fate of the world is in his hands.
— He loves going on simple dates, whether it’s at Griddy’s Doughnuts, a simple stroll in the park, or a little painting place.
— He’s fancy but he doesn’t see the point in expensive restaurants. He likes the little things.
— He loves to make and paint pottery with you, it’s his favourite thing to do.
— When he can’t sleep he’ll come over to your place and sit on the roof with you.
— If you fall asleep he’ll Blink into your room and tuck you in, and he’ll even leave a note for you to read when you wake up.
— It usually goes along the lines of..
“You fell asleep, don’t worry I made sure you got back in your room and I picked up all your stuffies from the floor and put them on the bed with you.”
— He struggles with insomnia.
— He’ll write you love letters even though it’s more convenient to send a text. He loves you and he’s willing to put effort in love notes.
— His primary love languages are quality time and acts of service.
— He doesn’t show much affection in public.
— He doesn’t mind holding your hand though.
— Five won’t be afraid to hold your hand, wrap an arm around your shoulders or waist while he’s with his siblings.
— Kisses and hugs are private though.
— Despite being private, he doesn’t hide the fact he’s dating you.
— If anyone tries anything on you, Five will glare daggers. If that’s not enough, he’ll threaten them, and if they keep pushing he’ll make them bleed (but not too severe 🥰)
— He’s hella protective.
— You make midnight munchies together.
— He’ll refuse to dance with you in the kitchen at 2am but he’ll reluctantly say yes and end up actually enjoying it.
— Same goes for dancing in the rain. He pretends to hate it but he loves it and you know he does.
— You always make pasta or noodles for midnight munchies.
— One time you made cookies and accidentally woke up Klaus who ate the cookie dough before you got to put it in the oven.
— When you guys had sex for the first time Klaus congratulated you and Five with a cake that said ‘virgin’ in the middle of a 🚫 and woke you up the next day with confetti.
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— sorry, i know i said i’d have a part three to my ben hargreeves fic but i wrote it and didn’t edit it.. and it didn’t seem entertaining enough to post, i’m sorry.
— if you want headcanons with the apocalypse involved, let me know <3
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steddielations · 11 months
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Years after Eddie moves out and Wayne retires, Eddie comes by everyday to help around the house. Wayne doesn’t like the fuss, he won’t be a burden, but the company is nice. The new place isn't as homey as the trailer, his memory's fuzzy about why he ever moved.
One day, Eddie shows up with the Harrington boy of all people. Not a boy anymore, a man fully grown but Wayne remembers him driving that shiny Beamer around Hawkins like yesterday. Eddie says they're old pals, but Wayne can't recall Steve ever coming around with any of Eddie's friends.
It's an odd pair, but Steve’s good company. He chats about baseball, doesn't mind when Wayne mixes up last night's scores with a game 20 years ago. Then throughout the day, Wayne catches Steve giving Eddie the kind of looks and touches that make it clear what kind of pals they are, or at least what kind Steve wants them to be.
It warms Wayne's heart to see. He’s not gonna be around forever, and he always wanted Eddie to settle down with someone. It's hard for men like Eddie, for men like them, but he doesn't want that to stop Eddie from having the chance. So that night before they go, when Wayne's getting squared away in bed, he whispers to Eddie, "Steve's a good one, son. If you ever get ahold of him, don't you let him go."
Eddie just grins, almost something sad about it, and says, "Okay, old man. I'll keep him. I promise." The same thing he always says, every time this happens, but Wayne doesn't know that.
Every day is different, but sometimes Wayne remembers Eddie and Steve have been together for a decade. Sometimes he remembers the small backyard wedding, laughs about how it rained and Eddie slipped in the mud. Sometimes he remembers that he came to live with them when the dementia got worse.
But on days when it's all brand new, when he meets Steve for the first time again, he always knows that he's the right one for Eddie. So Eddie’s gonna listen and hang onto Steve with everything he’s got.
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ceilidho · 1 year
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prompt: reader is hired as a live in house cleaner because ghost is always away and he only comes back on leave and he insists she stay in the guest room. Over time he increasingly acts like she’s his live in girlfriend or something. Very confusing for reader lmao.
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The job comes at the exact right time. 
The way you stumble onto your new job is a bit dicey, if you’re being honest. You’ve been meaning to get out of the waitressing life for a while—the tips are shit and the number of times that you’ve had your backside pinched has slowly but steadily climbed into the double digits. You just haven’t had direction; somewhere to go. 
Your savior comes in the form of a six foot plus soldier. Oh, he doesn’t tell you that, but his body language speaks for itself. 
At first, even the sight of him makes your belly clench and palms sweat like when you watch rock climbing documentaries or parkour videos online (all moist and clammy and you have to wipe them on your jeans before shaking his hand). He’s a one-time customer at your little roadside diner that gradually becomes a repeat offender. 
He comes at odd times, sometimes disappearing for a month or two before he’s back to sitting in the booth at the back of the diner with his back against the wall. You smile shakily when you pour him coffee after coffee. He never eats. Always sits in the same booth, dressed in the same black hoodie that does nothing to hide the sheer size of him and a black surgical mask that he never removes. He has a sixth sense for when you’re watching him from behind the counter, waiting for him to take a sip.
You never do catch a glimpse of his face. Not completely anyway. You know him only by the faint smell of gunpowder and metal that clings to him like a second skin, and the feeling of his calloused hand against yours. 
Like ice slowly chipping off a glacier that one day cracks, a huge chunk splintering off and crashing into the sea, you know nothing about him until you’re suddenly in his house. Simon, he tells you, and the sound of his name awakens something in you. He needs a housekeeper and you need a reason to leave. 
You quit the diner; barely even put in a week’s notice. 
The day you drive up the long beaten road up to his property, a cabin deep in the English countryside, clear blue skies follow you. Clouds crisp, delicate even. Simon takes you through the house, showing you to the guest room where you’ll be staying while he’s away. He never directly confirms your suspicions, but the faint tightness around his eyes when he mentions his job tells you all you need to know. No wonder he needs someone to keep the house in order. Never around to do it himself.
Then he’s gone, swift as a ghost. You wake up in the guest room to a hastily scrawled note on your bedside table and a faint feeling of loss. 
You scrub tiles and dust the top bit of the fan that everyone always misses; you mow the lawn, clean the gutters, and sit under the shade of a poplar tree with a glass of lemonade in the early evenings. If you look up into the tree, you’ll see spiders and squirrel nests. It’s almost therapeutic. 
Weeks pass at a time. Simon reemerges like clear skies between periods of rain. Sometimes even before you wake up, you can feel the change like lighting sizzling in the air, crackling hot under your fingertips and then stumbling into the kitchen to find him leaning against the counter, coffee already brewing. You blush into an apology that he waves off.
Good soldier. Better boss. 
You fall into a routine, something of a cadence that is only interrupted by Simon’s hands on your hips when he moves you out of the way to grab a mug from the top shelf. His finger brushing over the curve of your cheekbone to wipe away flour smudged on your cheek. Then he’s gone again, passing through like a ghost. 
Perhaps he’s a more tactile man than you originally assumed. Something about the way he held himself in those first few weeks in the diner suggested otherwise, the way he seemed to radiate a latent hostility. Do not get close. You read this in the general slope of his eyebrows and the scars across his muscled forearms up until he reaches out to touch you, growing more and more comfortable with you around.
“You alright, love?” said into your ear on a warm night when Simon materializes onto the couch beside you, practically out of thin air. Your heart almost bursts in your chest. 
When you turn, he’s as beautiful as ever, honey burnt eyes staring out from behind a balaclava this time. Still dresses in his standard issue tactical pants, the faint smear of grime and gore around the ankles. There’s a lump in your throat when you smile. 
He smells richer now. Deeper, like the forest floor. Like crawling through mud and spider webs and a thick, cloying miasma of desperation. 
“Sorry—I didn’t know you’d be back,” you apologize, going to rise up to your feet. It feels wrong to commandeer his house when he’s on leave, even though you live here too.
A heavy hand on your shoulder pulls you down, settling you to his side. “Off your feet now—there you go, atta girl. No sense getting up; show’s not even done.” 
He angles you back to face the TV and tugs you into his lap almost effortlessly. You do not look back, even when you feel him slip the balaclava off, hot breath fanning over your neck. Not even when fingers play over the thin line of skin where your shirt rides up. You blink like your eyes are gummy and try not to shudder when his thumb dips underneath your shirt.
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fev3rish · 3 months
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STUPID, SLEEPY, AND ALL YOURS. kenji tots w/ v
unbelievably drowsy, kenji speaks so fast he forgets to think. this leads to … feelings.
cw. sleepy kenjiiii zzzzzzz, kenji has a hard time being vulnerable but he’ll try for reade, kenji loves you, i project on kenji, i love kenji so much, unproofreaded, a bit of hurt but a lot of comfort and fluff
notes. im sleepy… do not repost or translate this work unless done with permission.
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thinking about sleepy kenji sato who doesn’t think when he’s all sleepy; all he wants is to lie next to you.
you’re not in bed yet, he has all the space this time. he uses it to twist and turn continuously and wrinkle your pretty white sheets, messing them up more than they already are. what was that thing for work you had to do that was more important than letting him hold you? kenji groans, the soft blanket against his skin feeling like the spikes of cacti without your skin against his. it’s so cold, and he blames you for it, because what are you if not his portable sun? he misses you so much, and you’re only a room away!
he hopes his whines are loud enough for you to hear. maybe you’ll come check up on him? oh, he hopes you will! he really does hope you will. he’s so sleepy, he might just cry if he doesn’t have you in his arms in the next minute. he wishes you would just crawl into bed with him; that way, your scent would be on the sheets, and your hair would be in his face as he spooned you from behind. he always preferred it that way. to kenji, fucking someone was easy—but to lay in the same sheets, intertwined; to be able to withstand that sort of intimacy—it was too much. he wasn’t ready for that. he wasn’t ready to wake up to your face and realize that yes, he is going soft; yes, he is inlove, and yes, he is yours.
kenji should be happy he has all the space, he knows he should be, but he isn’t. he wants to share it with you. he wants to drape what was once his blanket over your body, and he wants to hold you close and kiss the top of your head as you drift off to sleep. he wants to give you the extra pillow he always saved for himself, and he doesn’t even know why he wants to do it. maybe he’s crazy, or maybe he’s in love. in his core, kenji already knows why.
he’s all yours.
the sound of the door opening has him peeking out of the covers, eyes gazing at your equally tired form. you jump back, almost hitting your lower back on the knob of the door. you catch yourself fast enough. kenji just looks at you and smiles. “why are you still awake?” you walk over to him, and sit on the edge of the bed. he readjusts himself so that he lays strictly on his side. “i couldn’t sleep.” kenji answers, but he’s lying and you know that more than anyone.
kenji’s easy to read, the problem is no one bothers getting close enough.
you don’t pry. kenji wishes you did, he would’ve had an excuse to talk to you about you. it’s so hard to show his love sometimes, so hard to tell you he values you—he wants to tell you the true extent of it all, to tell you that he doesn’t love you despite your flaws, but with all your flaws. he wants to, so badly, but theres a lump in his throat that stops him and he’s been trying to spit it out for so long that he fears you might just leave him at this point.
he’s feared you might leave him at many points.
yet, here you are, and here he is, draping a blanket over your body as you turn around to kiss his cheek goodnight. he spoons you, and he realizes that you’re still here. he should focus on that, first. on loving you.
the steady pitter-patters of the rain keep you company as kenji buries his shoulder into your neck, soft hair tickling your chin as you smile in your drowsy state. “you took sooooo long.” his voice is muffled, and you chuckle a bit because his voice vibrates against your shoulder so hard that you shiver. he’s whiney, tired, and so, so, lovey dovey. you love it. “i’m so sorry, kenji, you know how work can be.” a short response, yet the sound of your voice has kenji grinning like a schoolgirl against you—and he squeezes just a little bit tighter.
“no, ‘m sorry.” he says. you raise an eyebrow. “why are you sorry? no need to be sorry for being all lovey with me, bab—”
“i’m sorry for not being lovey enough.” he interrupts, and you part your mouth to reply but nothing comes out besides a confused “huh?” he sighs, and sits up—and you lean against the headboard of his bed, ready to listen. always ready to listen.
“i… didn’t want to get too close to you, you know ?” he mutters, his hooded eyes looking right, left, down, anywhere but at you—because he’s not himself. he’s exhausted, everything’s been taking a toll on him and the only anchor he has is you. “i wanted to distance myself. i didn’t want you to get caught up with me. i’m… god, i’m a fucking wreck…” he trails off, and you want to reach out but he’s not done. “before you, i didn’t think i could do anything right—because i didn’t. i couldn’t. what was the point being a super famous baseball star and fucking ultraman if at the end of the day, you realized that every day was the same as any other. you come home to no one, and your bed is always cold. you comb your own hair, and there’s no one else to drape your blanket over because you’re all alone in such a big house and it makes you realize that even though you’re—”
he bites his lip, trying to hold back tears, but then he looks at you, and it’s like he wants to cry. to be coddled over, to be doted on. so he lets himself shed a few tears, to make up for the frustrations he’s had. “even though you’re ultraman, you’re still capable of feeling small.” he concludes, and as if a switch had flipped—he practically falls into your chest, droplets of his own tears staining your shirt. you coo, and you comb through his hair and put the blanket over the two of you as you kiss his temple. “it was always like that.” he whispered.
it’s then you realize that kenji, even though he tries to act high and mighty, is truly just miserable.
“then i met you.”
you don’t know what to say.
“it was like you crashed head first into every wall i had, you know? i didn’t want to be in a relationship with you at first. i wasn’t worth you. i’m never going to be worth it for you; atleast, i don’t think s-”
“no.” is all you say, and kenji, drowsy as he is, looks up at you. “no, you’re worth everything. you’re worth so much more than you know, kenji, you’re worth every second i spent breaking those walls of yours dow—”
“that’s what i’m talking about.” he interrupts, for the second time. and you look at him questioningly. “you always have something to say. you never run out of words. you never run out of love. you love me. you love me so much, don’t you?” he asks, and faced with his handsome face and husky voice your blushing self can only nod. “yeah, i can tell. that’s why i’m sorry. you never run out of words when you’re with me, but god, i always run out of words when i’m with you. it’s like, if i could, i’d follow you around forever. in complete silence. you’re so beautiful i can’t even say it.”
you’re down bad; so is he.
“i promised not to get too close, and now i’m laying on your chest in tears because i love you too much to even word it. that’s really fucking stupid, right? i’m stupid. i’m stupid, sleepy, and all yours.” he babbled, and before long, he was dead asleep on your chest. his tangent left you in love, in shock, and in utter disarray. you did not mind the drying tears on your shirt, nor were you gonna mind how awkward it would be in the morning, and you wouldn’t dream of minding kenji being vulnerable in front of you. right now, you were so happy you could cry—you were so happy, you did cry.
this time, kenji fell asleep looking at you.
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borathae · 3 months
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Too Sweet
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“You’re too sweet for him, but he can’t get enough of the taste. Even if lately he makes you feel as if he has. Taehyung doesn’t like that you feel this way, showing you that the only drug he ever needs is you.”
Pairing: Gangster!Taehyung x f.Reader
Genre: crime!AU, established relationship!AU, Smut
Warnings: mention of past smoking, mention of murder as well as blood & violence, Dom!Taehyung, sub!Reader, lingerie kink, hand kink, dirty talk, praise, he calls her his slut fondly, he also calls her babygirl and (baby)doll, the title Sir is said like three times, cockwarming in his office chair, desperate sex on top of his office desk, DP of her pussy with his cock & fingers, choking without applying pressure, bondage with his tie, strength kink, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), squirting, he fucks her so good she pees a little jjsjsj, creampie, subby girl tears, he is as gentle with her as he is rough (sexy), smol ownership kink, kinda exhibitionism cause they fuck loudly with his guards outside the doors, hints at female masturbation, allusion to somnophilia, breast play with painless tit spanking, idk if this is warning worthy but he is a little "dismissive" of her feeling neglected by fucking her instead of listening to her, but he apologises healthily in the end and keeps being all "fuck, I misssed you" during sex, cuddles and kisses and praise for aftercare hihi
Wordcount: 5.6k
a/n: this is based on this post and all of you guys' wishes ohoho. it's definitely less on the soft Dom!Tae side because a bitch (me) wrote this during full ovulation bloom and i quite frankly felt like a bitch (dog) in heat ajjajsjs have fun besties 🤎
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Taehyung was working late. He is at home for a change and you thought that it would mean you could see him more, but that wasn’t the case. You haven’t seen him at all today, not even in the morning because he locked himself in his office before you woke and during lunch time, he asked one of his men to bring the food to his office. You can’t stand it when he is like this. 
You know that Taehyung was a busy man. If he wasn’t gone, tending to missions or assassinating his targets, he was holed up in his office, allowing no one to come in. No one. Not even you, his woman. 
You normally don’t mind that he is absent, having your own things to do. But it has been days since you last saw him and you are getting needy. Not only for his attention, but also for his touch. You noticed it starting when you woke up all alone – like always these past few days – with thick, warm slick between your legs and a deep pit in your stomach only his cock could fill. You tried to get rid of it, but no matter how you touched yourself, it wasn’t enough. You missed Taehyung. You missed his touch and how he can turn you into puddy between his fingers. He gets off on the power. Taehyung is twisted like that, giving it to you with a taunting smirk on his lips which so very often makes you shudder. Sometimes he also looks at you as if you were his prey, as if you were one of the many fuckers he tortures on a daily. And you get off to it, craving exactly this look tonight.
Taehyung’s world wasn’t normal or on the bright side of the law. Taehyung’s world was as twisted as him, it was filled with drugs, murder and betrayal and reeked of dirty money and expensive alcohol. 
You slithered into it eight years ago with no chance of escaping. It all began when you came home to your younger siblings slaughtered and your belongings missing. Your parents had died years before and as the eldest of four, you took on the role of mother and father for your younger siblings. They were three, six and eleven when they were murdered. You were only twenty. The law didn’t help you. They dismissed it because of too little evidence, called it a case unsolvable and told you to leave when you begged them to continue the search. You met Taehyung in front of the police station. It rained that day and the air smelled of messy endings – or new beginnings, however one might interpret the meeting. He called you to the dark alleyway he was hiding in and offered you a drag of the cigarette he was smoking, which you declined while he took it for you with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.
“I can find the killers of your family”, he had told you.
“How do you know what happened to them?” you had asked him.
He pointed at the police station, “I know a lot of things in this city. Things these bastards up there could only dream of knowing. I know your name and that someone killed your three siblings. I also know that your parents died two years ago and that their deaths are connected to these murders.”
“Who are you?” you asked him.
“You can call me Vante, my real name isn’t important”, he told you, not knowing that one day he will have you screaming his real name for him each night as he made the messiest love to you.
“Why are you helping me?”
Taehyung took a drag of his cigarette, exhaled it through his nose. He stepped closer, drawing you in with his eyes. Something sick and twisted glimmered in them and you had found yourself gazing at it in awe. 
“Are you taking my help or not? My cigarette is running out and I’m not about to light another one”, he stressed back then, unaware that one day the only drug he will need in his lungs was your air.
Many years have passed since then. The world darkened in these years. Taehyung lost the playful spark he had back then, while you lost the innocence a normal person without criminal ties possessed. You know how a stranger’s blood feels on your hands these days, know how disgusting humans are once they die and their muscles give up and you know the bitter taste of lonely nights when Taehyung stays out longer than planned. 
You can’t take the taste anymore. You crave the sweetness of his kiss, the saccharine traces of his touch and the honey timbre of his voice.
Taehyung is locked up in his office and doesn’t let anyone in, but you can’t take it anymore. You have to see him. 
Two of his men are guarding the door. Their eyes flit to your cleavage but shoot away instantly, their bodies tense as they try not to look again. Looking at you in the wrong way will cost them their eyes. Taehyung would make sure of that. Just as he made sure that the killer of your family got the ending they deserved. You knew that you were twisted when you felt joy and desire as you watched him slaughter them instead of horror and disgust. You remember fucking him, bloodied and dirty, just beside the bodies of your family’s killer while Taehyung moaned into your mouth, drugged out and high on slaughtering. You haven’t been separated since. Except for these last few days. Fuck, you miss him.
“Master Vante wishes not to be distracted”, his guards try to stop you.
“I want to see him.”
“He told us not to let anyone in. Not even you, Mistress.”
You cross your arms in front of your chest.
“Vante!” you call out. 
Moments later the door opens. Taehyung looks at you, then your skimpy outfit, then his guards. 
“You told them to keep me outside?” you ask him, cocking a brow at him.
Taehyung glares at his guards. They avoid eye contact, gawking at the front with pearls of anxious sweat on their foreheads.
“Come in”, Taehyung tells you darkly, stepping out of the doorframe.
With a triumphant bounce in your step, you enter his office. The main lights were off, only his green table lamp was on, tinting the room a mixture of orange and green. 
Taehyung closes the door and locks it, turning to you quickly to grab your wrist.
“What are you thinking?” he hisses.
“I miss you.”
“And that gives you the right to walk around like this in front of my men?” 
You are wearing lingerie and a see-through, short rope. Both blood red in colour. They hug your curves at the best parts and match with the colour of your lipstick. 
“Why? What’s wrong with my outfit?” you act oblivious on purpose, craving the fire in his eyes only you can ignite.
Taehyung furrows his brows. The fire burns deep. You, quite frankly, almost moan because of it. This is exactly the warmth you missed these past cold nights.
“I miss you, Tae. I go to bed alone and wake up just as alone. I miss you so fucking much.”
Taehyung clenches his jaw. He slides his hand from your wrist and steps back.
“I have a lot to do”, he says, retreating back to his desk. 
The distance is cold. Yes, the years took his playfulness, but they never took his affection for you. His distance is cold because it was never there before.
“Did I do something?” you ask him quietly.
Taehyung lifts his eyes from his papers. 
“What makes you think that?”
“You aren’t coming to bed with me anymore.”
“I am. You’re just always sleeping already.”
“You don’t hold me in the morning.”
“I do. You’re just always sleeping still.”
“You lock me out of your office.”
“There’s stuff in here I don’t want you to see.”
“You don’t want to fuck me in this outfit.”
Taehyung purses his lips. 
“You normally always do.”
“I want to do the most sinful things to you, don’t mistake my indifference with lack of desire. If I didn’t have so much shit to do, I’d bend you over this desk and fuck days worth of cum into you.”
You moan with your knees buckling. Taehyung watches it happen, allowing you to know it affects him by loosening his tie a little.
“Did you like that?” he asks – rasps. 
You nod your head, giving him pleading puppy eyes.
“Come here.”
You obey his orders instantly, hurrying to his desk so you could stand in front of him.
Taehyung spreads his legs, leaning back in his chair. It creaks as he does. He runs his hand over his chin, taking you in with fiery eyes. 
“What do you really want?”
“Your touch.”
“Don’t keep stuff from me. Tell me what you want.”
“I want.” You gasp for air. “Oh god, Tae. Don’t make me.”
He darkens his eyes, chewing imaginary gum.
“If you want me to help you, you gotta tell me. You know how deals with me work.”
How could you forget. Making a deal with Taehyung is what brought you here. Letting him find your family’s killer is what made you into the obsessed woman you are today. 
You didn’t have to accept his deal back then, but you did. You took the cigarette and finished it in one inhale, sealing not only your deal with him, but also your fate. 
“I want you to touch me. I’ve been wet since the morning and I can’t stop it.”
His eyes skim over your crotch. His chest rises and sinks in one deep, affected breath.
“Did you try stopping it?”
“Yeah.”
“How?” 
You shy away. Taehyung sits up, hovering his hand over your waist without touching you. It aches not to be touched by him. 
“Don’t be shy now. Tell me how you took care of it.”
“I touched myself”, you whisper.
Taehyung purrs, “you touched yourself. What a bad girl. I can’t remember giving you permission.”
“You haven’t been there for me for days.”
He smiles. The first of the day. It makes your knees weak.
“So it’s my fault?”
“Yes.”
His smile grows. He follows his hand with his eyes as he travels it along your curves. The touch never comes. It drives you insane to have him so close but still be denied the honey warmth of his hands.
“If I knew how fucking needy you were, I’d have fucked you in your sleep.”
You whimper. 
He looks up, meets your eyes in fiery desire.
“I’d have infiltrated your dreams and made you cream my cock before you could even wake up.”
“Please touch me, please”, you beg because you have already reached your breaking point.
He chuckles, chewing gum again.
“I can touch you in lots of ways. Be more specific.”
“Cock. I want cock.”
He leans back in his chair, folding his hands on his stomach nonchalantly. You gawk at them. You crave their touch. Fuck, please.
“Alright”, he says coolly. 
“Really?” you gasp, stumbling because your knees actually gave up on you. Taehyung is on his feet instantly, lifting you onto his desk and holding you between his strong hands. 
“Careful. Are you okay?” he asks, studying your features worriedly.
Despite all the killing he is doing, all the fighting and rough work, his palms are soft. Feeling them on your skin makes you moan. Finally. His touch heals you.
“I want to be fucked so bad”, you beg.
Taehyung chuckles, “shit, you’re gone for.”
“Please”, you open your legs, showing him your wet panties. 
Taehyung licks his lips, gulping heavily. You are soaking the documents under you. Fuck, you haven’t been that wet in ages. Taehyung wants to pump his digits into you, fuck your slickened cunt hard and fast, get his cock creamed. But he holds back. He still has work to do and he knows exactly how to take care of you in a way which still allows him to do what he needs to do. 
“Wrists out.”
You obey his orders.
“From now on, your safeword is Red and your life line is humming our song. Understood?” he tells you as he opens his red tie.
“Yes, Sir”, you whimper, leaking all over his desk.
“Good girl. You’re such a good girl when you listen so well.” He pulls your wrists closer, wrapping the tie around them a few times. 
You are heaving. You can’t handle how much all of this excites you. 
“Too tight?” he makes sure, rubbing your knuckles gently. Each touch he places makes you want to scream. You missed it so much. 
“No, just right.”
“That’s good”, he says and lifts your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles. Each of them. Without breaking eye contact. You are truly puddy in his hands. “You know why I have to do this, don’t you?”
“I touched myself without your permission.”
“Exactly, bad girl”, he says with a playful spark in his eyes. 
You have to giggle because of it, writhing on his desk. Off of said desk he lifts you moments later. 
He sits back down on his chair and begins unbuckling his slacks. 
“Tae”, you moan, pressing your legs together. Finally. Finally. Finally. 
He opens his belt, his button, his zipper. He slides his hand inside. Seconds later, it reappears with his cock between his fingers. He’s already hard and throbbing, sitting heavy in his touch.
You ogle him, drooling all over yourself.
“What do you want to do to it?” Taehyung orders you.
“Sit on it.”
“What a naughty girl, mhhhm”, he rolls his head back, arches his back as he puts on a show of jerking himself off.
This is to rile you up, to show you what you currently don’t have.
“Please, can I have it?” you beg, fighting your restrains. 
“Mhm, take it.”
“Oh god, oh god.”
You fail to climb on his lap on your own and so Taehyung helps you with a guiding touch. He even pulls your panties aside for you, holding his cock in place as you sink down on him. It squelches wetly. 
Taehyung tenses his thighs for just a second, biting down on his lower lip as a deep purr rumbles in his chest.
You totally lose it, falling against his chest with your tied up hands trying to grab his shirt. Your lips press against his neck. He smells masculine and clean. 
“Taehyung”, your moan is filled with relief and ecstasy. 
“You weren’t lying. You’re so fucking wet.”
You move instantly. Messily and needily. You move. Move. Get stopped. 
With both hands dimpling your hips, Taehyung is keeping you still. He ignores your pleading whimpers and your distressed gasps. Instead he rolls closer to his desk and straightens up, picking up his pen.
“That’s perfect. Keep my cock warm like this”, he says nonchalantly.
“Wh-what?” you are out of breath, close to tears. You want cock so bad and you finally have it, but he is denying you to move? Does he want to make you cry? You can’t get any more desperate and yet he wants to prove you wrong. 
You lift your head from his neck. Taehyung glances at you.  
“You didn’t think that I’d allow you to move after the stunt you pulled, did you?” he taunts, chewing gum again.
“What stunt?”
He stops chewing, lowering his eyes darkly.
“When you showed yourself like this in front of my men. When you touched yourself without my permission. When you barged into my office and accused me of neglecting you.”
“You have been neglecting me.”
“Careful”, he warns, bucking his hips up.
You moan, rolling your eyes back as your body wobbles in defeat.
Taehyung pulls you closer, keeping you steady that way. He fucks into you again, gritting his teeth while you whimper like a happy slut. Your cunt is so fucking puffy, sucking in his cock greedily. Every voice in his head is telling Taehyung to drop his work and fuck you senseless. But he can’t. He has a point to prove.
“I’m allowing you to be in my office and to sit on my cock, but anymore backtalk and I’ll gag you”, he warns even if talking is hard.
You spill tears.
“Please more.”
He wipes your tears, caressing your chin afterwards.
“Patience, I still have to work”, he tells you and looks back at the papers.
“Oh god, please”, you plead, hiding back in his neck. You want to move, but you can’t because he is keeping an iron grip on your hips. All you can do is sit on his lap with his girthy cock deep inside you. And you can’t even run your hands over him. You wiggle them in their restraints, begging against his neck.
“Please Tae, please.”
“Patience. It’s only been half a minute.”
It felt like three hours. You need him pumping into you. Warming his cock isn’t enough. 
Time passes. You don’t know how much, but it’s too much for you. All you can concentrate on is his cock. He is so hard inside you. So big and girthy. You were never so aware of being filled than you are currently. You can feel every inch sitting inside you and how he is stretching you out. The pit in your stomach is shrinking but it’s still there because you aren’t allowed to move. You clench your pelvic muscles. Electricity runs through you. This helped. When you tense up, you can feel him press against your sensitive spots. 
Dumb in desperation, you start chasing the sensation. You clench, relax, clench, relax. Over and over. It feels so good. You finally have what you had craved for days. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Taehyung soon breaks the silence, reminding you that he could feel as well. 
You tense up, feeling dizzy. You forgot that it’s noticeable to him when you clench down. 
“Mhm? What are you doing?” he stresses, digging his thumb into your softness. 
“It hurts.” His touch loosens, but tightens again when you continue whining. “It’s not enough, please let me move.” 
Taehyung takes a deep breath, keeps it in for a moment and exhales it in time with his big hand sliding to the small of your back. 
He gives it a small push, moving you like this. You shudder instantly, leaking on his cock. He moves you again and you pick up on it instantly, meeting his movements needily. 
“Nuh-uh.” He slows you down with just one touch. “Like this. Understood?”
“Yeah”, you whimper, obeying his orders.
“Good girl, such a good girl”, he praises and shifts his attention back to work.
So now he’s got you grinding down on his cock. He is glad that he is sitting because it turns his legs weak. He missed your warmth like nothing else. Concentrating on his work is definitely becoming difficult but he is stubborn. He needs to keep cool a little longer. 
You are in a state of ecstasy, panting and drooling against his neck as you finally have what you craved. You have his cock moving inside you. Now granted, the movements are just small grinds back and forth, but it’s like a drug to you. He shifts deep inside you, prods at your puffy walls and swollen good spots and the folds of his slacks are rubbing against your clit. You have his big hand on your back, rubbing circles into your thinly dressed skin. Everything is just perfect. Taehyung might think he is giving you a punishment with such little movements, but you are in fucking heaven. This is exactly what you needed. 
Taehyung doesn’t realise the gravity of his mistake up until the point you suddenly tense up and squeak his name. But by then it is already too late. He has you throbbing around him seconds later as you orgasm as if you never had before.
You whimper, trying so hard not to shake and tremble, but Taehyung can feel it nonetheless. It’s squeezing his cock. 
“You fucking-”, Taehyung growls, throwing his pen aside. His composure is broken. He stands up with you and swipes his desk clean just so he can lie you down on it. He takes your hands and pins then above your head, staring down at you with crazed eyes and gritted teeth. “You’re such a fucking temptress. How dare you cum like that.”
You are barely present after your high, writhing and twitching on the desk. He thrusts his hips. Consciousness returns. The sensitive, fucked state of you is obvious again. 
You squeak his name and arch your back as your eyes finally meet his’. His pupils are blown out, he has a sense of craze in his face. 
“I should tie a vibrator to you and leave you shaking by my feet for what you’re doing to me”, he spits as he finally drills his cock into you. Hard and rough. The desk shakes because of it. Your body does as well. “I have work to do and you’re messing with my schedule. I should punish you, but fuck”, he buries himself as deep as possible and write his name against your walls, “you fucked me up. Just wanna pound into you”, he laughs lazily, following it up with a lulled “fuuck.”
“Harder please”, you beg, riding on the high with your head turning. 
Taehyung fulfills your wish with a growl. His fingers dig into the softness of your thighs so he can keep you in place as he fucks you into a state of senseless on his desk. You answer his guttural growls with high pitched wails of gratefulness. You finally have what you needed. You have his entire attention. And it feels so fucking good. 
It is finally obvious to you how much Taehyung missed you too. He only fucks like that when he hasn’t been with you for a while. He only grips you with such strength when his fingers hadn’t felt your softness in ages. He is only so out of breath when your air hasn’t filled his addicted lungs for some time. 
“I missed you”, he gets out. 
You meet his eyes. Tears escape you easily. He slows down and leans over you to wipe them gently. A moment of tenderness in the passion. A moment to remind you that he loves no person as much and as deeply as he loves you.
“I missed you so fucking much”, he rasps and slides his hand to your neck to rest on it. No pressure. Just contact. His hips pick up speed, claiming you as his’ in more ways than one. 
And you roll your eyes back without closing them, melting into the desk as he rearranges your insides. The pit is finally being filled. The fire is finally burning you again. You are so happy, moaning his name as loudly as possible. 
“Yes baby, moan for me. It turns me on. Moan for me.”
His guards just right outside the door are non-existent to you and him right now. The fact that they most definitely can hear you, hasn’t sunk in yet. You and Taehyung are lost in passion. You have to pick up on days of absence, you have to fuck until the desperation is finally gone from your systems. Fuck, you need each other so fucking bad. 
“You feel so good, my good girl. Love filling you with my cock. So good, fuck so good. You’re taking me like such a good girl”, Taehyung is babbling. He always gets like this when the sex just hits right. He loses control over his tongue and begins spitting whatever dirty thoughts run through his foggy mind. “My good girl, my fucking slut. Look at you. Fuck.”
His right hand cups your tits, playing with them roughly. The touch is heaven. Even through the material of your lingerie you can feel it.
“Taehyung”, you wail, arching into his touch.
“I hate that you thought I don’t wanna fuck you in this. Shit, I want you like fucking crazy”, he moans and gives your tits a gentle spank. Just hard enough that they jiggle for a moment, but still gentle enough that no pain shoots over your skin. 
You still sob and mewl for him, writhing on the desk like a woman brought to her limits. And you are. He is bringing you to your limits, pushing you right past them because he is twisted like that.
“Fuck, you’re cumming again?” he slows down.
“Don’t stop please. Faster!”
And you enjoy every second of it because you are just as twisted. It burns so deep when he is rough during your orgasm and you need it to continue burning.
“Urgh fine”, he is tensing his jaw, furrowing his brows, “you’re so tight. Your pussy’s sucking me off. Shit, ah- babygirl ahm mhh urgh.”
Taehyung wants to crumble on the floor. Every inch of his body is electric. You have him so high. And it doesn’t stop. His cock is throbbing. He swears he hasn’t been that hard in ages. He might actually pass out from how much blood is shooting to his dick. But he’s got a deal to fulfil. He promised you relief and Taehyung isn’t going to disappoint. He isn’t the type to break deals. No matter how much they ruin him. And you are ruining him like nothing else. 
You are so tight after your high, so wet that it is difficult for his cock not to slip out. It’s squelching out of you, messing up not only your connected bodies but his desk as well.
“You’ll be the death of me”, he gets out.
“More.”
“More?” he squeaks out, following it up with a disbelieved laugh, “how much hotter do you wanna be burn?”
“Until I’m reduced to piles of ash”, you croak and grab his wrist with your tied hands. You guide it to your middle. 
Taehyung picks up on your silent message instantly, rubbing circles into your puffy clit. 
“No”, you mewl, “stick them in, please.”
Taehyung growls needily. He gets a little dumb in pleasure when you reach the point where you beg for what you want without shame. He is so obsessed with you it’s crazy. 
Taehyung slows down to make it easier and slips one of his fingers into your cunt. The tightness makes both of you gasp.
“I’m going insane, fuck”, Taehyung croaks, staring at the pretty view obsessively. His huge cock inside you, his finger right beside it, your puffy lips moving around him and your red lace panties stretching against his shaft. “You’re so stuffed with me. Does it feel good to you?” 
“Another.”
“Shit, you’re actually killing me.”
His second digit fills you just as easily, pressing against your swollen g-spot. You whimper and squirm, tensing around him. He glances at your face. It is scrunched up, skin glistening in a layer of sweat and pleasurable tears.
“Too much?” he makes sure.
“No, perfect. Please move”, you squeak out.
Taehyung huffs out air, giving you exactly what you ask of him. The friction is unbearable, the pressure around his cock is making his knees shake but he keeps moving. You are moaning so prettily for him, stretching your tied up arms above your head as if you wanted to reach for the stars he is making you see. 
“My perfect woman. Urgh my…pretty….slut….my princess, urgh…is this what you…wanted?” 
“Yes, yes, yes”, you squeal and keen, glowing in happiness.
“So beautiful, I’m going insane”, he moans and wraps his unoccupied hand around your neck again. No pressure, just warmth. He doesn’t have to squeeze down to let you know that you belong to him. Not that you need a reminder. You belong to him willingly. 
It was over for you the moment your eyes locked. You had been his’ ever since you shared this fateful cigarette in the dark alleyway while the rain poured down on you. You are his’. No amount of distance will ever change this. 
His hand around your throat is nothing but a warm reminder that he feels the same. His palms are soft, his heavy rings are hard and warmed up from his body heat. The touch is so tender, contradicting to what his other hand was currently doing to you. He is curling his long fingers as best as your tight walls allow him to, matching the rhythm with that of his eager hips. You stopped moaning because you lost the connection to your voice. Breathe. You have to concentrate on breathing otherwise you might pass out. 
“Fuck, I can feel you clenching again. My good girl, taking me so well and looking so pretty doing it. Shit, my slut, fuck sorry I meant my pretty girl. Urgh baby, are you cumming again?”
You give him a small, fragile squeak then break on his digits and cock. You squirt all over him within seconds, screaming his name because it is all you can do. 
“Yes fuck.” He abandons your neck and presses down on your stomach to the point where you can’t tell whether he is still making you squirt or you are already pissing yourself. You don’t mind, riding the feeling with messy tears and a snotty nose. His documents and clothes are ruined, but you can’t stop. 
“Give me everything, that’s my good babygirl. I love it when you fucking wet yourself like that. Shit, I can’t do this for long anymore. Getting sensitive, mh-hm.”
“Please cum inside.”
His hips falter.
“Please, please, ah! Please!” you beg him, making up for the loss of movement by wiggling your hips until he finally picks up his rough pace again.
Taehyung leans down, pinning you against the desk with his bigger frame. He slips his fingers free from your tight cunt, so he can wrap his arm around you. His left hand closes around your throat, his lips are pressed to your ear as he talks dirty to you.
“I’m gonna cum so good for you, doll. I saved up so much for you. Gonna fill you up with all of it until you’re dripping.”
“Please, please, please”, you beg with tears in your eyes.
“Yeah? You want this cum?”
“Yes please, yes please.”
“Shit babygirl, urgh”, Taehyung growls through gritted teeth, squeezing down on your neck as he empties his heavy balls into your cunt. 
You can feel it shoot out of him and cover your walls to the point where you can’t keep it inside anymore. It drips onto the floor, messing up his cock and balls.
“Take my cum. Fuck, such a good girl. You’re made for my cum, urgh fuck”, Taehyung talks himself through it, holding you against him in his strong, protective arm. And you wail his name, wishing for his sticky cum to stay inside forever. 
He slacks against you after his high, dropping with a whimper of your name. 
“What the fuck, woah”, he gets out, trembling in the aftershocks. “Are you okay?”
“Yes”, you get out weakly.
“I kid you not. Fuck”, he exhales deeply. “Put your arms around me.” 
You obey his orders, mewling weakly when he lifts you off the desk and sits you down on him as he sinks into the chair in defeat. His cum oozes out and squelches everywhere, but it’s only a little amount compared to how much was still inside you.
He slacks against the chair, gazing up at you with half lidded eyes. Sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead. He unties your hands.
“Do they hurt?”
“No”, you assure him, touching him instantly. He feels so strong and warm under your hands. His heart is racing so much. You needed this reminder. The reminder that you can still raise his pulse.
Taehyung closes his eyes halfway. “I love you”, he lulls, following it up with a smile.
“I love you too”, you whisper, lowering your eyes just sadly enough that he worries.
He furrows his brows, tilting your head up with two fingers under your chin.
“What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?”
You shake your head.
“Talk to me.”
“Can I be kissed?”
His features soften.
“You’re so cute. Of course you can. Come here, babydoll”, he says and slides his big hand to the nape of your neck to guide you into a kiss. 
You melt into it with a fluttering heart and no thought in your brain except the repeated cheers about how much you love him. You roll your hips down into him. He tenses up, breaking the kiss with a whiney chuckle.
“What are you doing?” 
“Please don’t go back to working, please I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”
“I won’t work, just…” He arches his back. “Give me time to recover, ah too sensitive.”
“Please Tae”, you beg, grinding down on him despite his begs.
“Fuck, did I really neglect you that much that you can’t be satisfied no matter what I do?” he groans.
“Yes”, you get out and pull him into a kiss.
“I’m sorry. Shit, gotta make it up to you then”, he mumbles between kisses, hugging you against him as you giggle into the kisses. “Come here you adorable temptress you.”
“Ah Tae. Wait. That tickles”, you squeak in laughter as you and he lose yourselves in a tingly, passionate dance of grinding, kisses and love bites.
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