#but like...people started taking a closer look at her and realizing 'ah. hm. this is all kinda fucked up actually'

[jzargo]

"you only hate aveline because you hate WOMEN" / "you only hate aveline bcs you hate butch/gnc women" while i am sure there is some validity to this (cullen, other resident Cop™ does not get nearly the same level of hate and criticism as aveline does, and he was such a fan favorite he was brought back for 2 more games than initially planned) the fact of the matter is that unfortunately aveline is a corrupt cop. and she isn't even intentionally written that way. we can't even call her an interesting villain because she's not supposed to be a villain. she's supposed to be our best friend, she's supposed to be the Moral Backbone of the group, she's supposed to be the Mom Friend, she's supposed to be Always Right. and yet she deliberately bars carver from joining the guard (pushing him to join the Templars instead if he's left behind on the expedition), slut-shames isabela to a ridiculous and uncomfortable degree, doesn't bother investigating her guards when rape and murder allegations are brought against them, and neglects her duties so badly that hawke's mother is murdered in an entirely preventable case.

she just sucks. i'm sorry. i wanted to love her. i did love her on my first few playthroughs before i started to really look at her character, listen to her banters, and look at what she actually does within the story. she's just not written well. i'm sorry. blame lukas kristjanson.

anyways if you want a buff guardswoman who isn't corrupt and is worthy of your love and friendship, please go play Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous and meet Seelah.

[iamsuckateverythingtobehonest]

BETWEEN THE WALL

Pairing: Sagau!Aether x Reader

Summary: Aether who once hated now loves the creator.

Warning: ⚠️ FIRST TIME WRITING, MIGHT BE BAD ⚠️

Part 3/3

★ Paimon has known Aether for a while now, she knows his story, fear, and concern. As his friend and companion on his journey to find his sister, she tries her best to give him a safe place to confide his problem to her and reassure him.

Despite that, she hasn't seen many of the expression of his other than polite gesture.

She could guess it was because he still learning the Teyvat language and not understanding what they were saying probably hindered him from showing any expression other than some input.

"Hehe..."

Paimon blinked and deadpanned once she turned her head to look at her travel companion.

There is Aether on all his glory having a small smile with redden cheeks as he plays with Windwheel Aster's petal.

His eye glittery and gaze soft as his fingertip trace over the line of the Windwheel Aster's petal.

He has been like that for a while since the fireworks show.

Now, Paimon is not dumb to not realize why her travel companion is like this. Especially when he acts so apparent even the people of Monstadt and the knight of Favonius can pick up.

"Hey, Paimon, not to be rude or anything but is the traveler okay?" Kaeya asked Paimon one day, with that question both of them simultaneously turned to look at Aether standing daze in front of Katheryne who tried to direct Aether's attention to her, "He looks so out of it nowadays."

Paimon sighed, 'It seems Aether has a crush on the creator.' A bitter smile curl on Paimon's lips.

Honestly, Paimom doesn't know what to do or act in the situation. She does have the urge to scold and quickly deflect the crush Aether has on the almighty being that even she worships.

And she knows it's for his own well-being.

But at the same time, seeing such a gaze on Aether's face makes Paimon reluctant.

The creator might be a god that she respects and prays to but Aether is her friend and someone she cherishes. Her heart couldn't take it if she just crushed his dream even before it started.

"Ah," Aether blinked looking at the Windwheel Aster that he picked which he unconsciously turned into a flower crown in his moment of daydream, a sheepish chuckle escaped his mouth. "How silly."

Paimon looked at Aether and bit her bottom lips, nervously.

"Aether," Paimon called out as she flew to his side, a firm look adorned her expression. With that call, Aether turns his head and looks at Paimon, "Hm? What is it?"

"That feeling, you know it's impossible, right?"

That question makes Aether's eyes widen which makes Paimon grips her hand into a fist. "You shouldn't, it's dangerous and sad–You just will get hurt by the end of it."

At the end, Paimon said it.

Just like she wants to protect her friend and companion on his newfound feelings. She also needs to bring him back to reality before it's too late because she is his friend.

Aether's face fell, yet a smile of resignation curled on his lips. "I know, Paimon but let me indulge in such feeling for a bit, can I?" He tilted his head before bringing the flower crown that he created above his head as he looked upon it.

A sweet smile on his face,"Do you think the creator would look pretty with the flower of the her head?"

"Aether..." Paimon uttered worriedly before she smiled in defeat and nodded her head, "The creator would be gorgeous."

Aether grinned at that.

"MYAAAAAA!?"

A screaming sound full of fear makes both Paimon and Aether's bodies rigid as goosebumps go through their vein.

Despite that, Aether quickly regained his focus from his shock and unsheathed his dull blade, quickly he rushed toward the sound, as fast as he could.

"Do you think it's a cat?!" Paimon speculates as she follows closely behind Aether.

As they run following the way the scream comes, it becomes closer and clearer to the naked ear.

Aether gave his feet like push before sprinting farther and faster.

Yet, what greets their eye is something both of them didn't expect and their eye widened. For a different reason and conclusion.

"That foreign...clothes and look..." Aether muttered before looking down at the big hole the stranger sat in. "It's like when I fell to the ground from another world before..."

Aether turns to Paimon, "Paimon, do you think the person is an outlander as well–"

"–No." Paimon cut Aether's words off as she looked at the person in a daze and awed, her small hand reaching forward like she trying to hold whoever the person was. "That foreign clothes....hair, eye, and beauty...the person is the Creator."

At that Aether's eyes are wide staring at Paimon before snapping his head back to the stranger.

He takes a side glance at Paimon, watching her hand hovered yet she doesn't attempt to move to the creator. Aether can see the devotion and care toward the creator flash in Paimon's eye but she is scared to get closer or more like feels worthless to do so.

For Aether, this revelation of this stranger's identity doesn't make his gaze any different like Paimon did but he does know his heartbeat because of a different reason.

That's why he doesn't feel scared to approach, doesn't feel scared to step down the hole and kneel in front of the person.

His hand reaches out to the creator, offering to hold their hand while the other gently rubs their shoulder.

Aether's eyes soften yet firm to look dependable but the heat that rushes on his cheeks seems to betray the image he tries to show.

"Don't' cry, shh, are you hurt anywhere?" He asked with a gentle voice akin to a flute, "My name is Aether, an honorary knight and adventurer." He introduced.

....It's a gamble to see if you would understand him or if will he be able to understand you now that you are here. Nonetheless, Aether had longed to hear your voice in front of him.

To interact with you.

As that interaction happened, thousands of people all across Teyvat felt their hearts shaking in uncontrollable happiness.

Some have tears, some have a smile so wide adorned their smile while others look up to the sky with their hand apart.

"T-The creator is here!!"

"The Creator has descend!!""

Uproared happen as the people cry in joy.

"...Creator." Venti's eyes snapped open and sit up from laying himself on the table. Tears fell from his eyes like rain, even when he tried to wipe it yet it continued. "Bless the wind, bless the celestial, bless the Teyvat."

Venti stood up from his seat and ran out of the bar, passing by people crying in joy and happiness to the sky.

Meanwhile, Zhongli is already on his way out from Liyue harbor city accompanied by the rest of Adepti.

There are no tears and wide grins but peace on each of their face.

Like they finally found a home to rest.

"Shall we go and escort the Creator back to our city?" One of them uttered as they moved faster in their respective form.

"The Almighty Shogun has spoken!" Kujou Sara shouted as she pointed her hand out to the gate, "We shall escort and bring the creator back to our homeland!"

"Hail The Almighty Shogun!" The soldier shouted.

"Enough." Raiden Ei held her palm out before speaking up again, "It's no longer me, but, it's the Almighty creator!"

Cheer and roared all around the ground.

From there follow to Sumeru, Fontaine, Natlan and Sneznaya hearing the news.

It's now written the historical day of the creator descending the land and what to become of their day on Tevyat.

[george228732]

Fylass Through the Looking Glass - Chapter Three - Memento Momentum

Fylass was the first one to leave the house with Lucid, and the people that were hanging out in the Hatter’s house. The track was the same as before, as a new adventure was about to start joyfully. The kid was a bit uneasy, since there was something in the air that they didn’t seem to grasp that well. They knew that this was a dream, but they couldn’t help but think that this world felt too complex for it to be just that. 

It felt like everyone in there had a mind of their own. They felt as if they were real. Could that possibility become true?

Fylass quickly stopped thinking about that though, when a voice spoke to them from behind.

"Hey. I really wanted to ask this before you got missing. Where’s your home? Or your parents?" Lucid had spoken to them. 

"...Er… Yeah, don't worry, everything is fine related to that.''

"You don’t sound that convinced…" 

Fylass couldn’t just say that they lived in another plane of existence, even if this was a dream, they didn’t want to tell the truth, otherwise, the others could somehow get to the conclusion that this was a dream, and the penguin that is Fylass, didn’t want to take risks. Such a mindset could be ridiculous from the get go. It was clear that this was a dream, so the repercussions would be worthless, and yet, it didn’t feel right.

"I live in the village, that’s it." They knew that a village was around; this was a kingdom after all. They could make up a lie about that easily, and their tone was trying to be as convincing as it could be for the rest to believe that.

"...If you say so." Lucid spoke up again. The rest of the group had different reactions to that; some seemed convinced, others, not so much, but they at least didn’t seem to deny what they were saying. 

"...Hm, I’ve been meaning to ask something else too." Ades said. "Why did you become that? Wings, horns, and that outfit. I’ve seen a lot of things happening in this land, some of them outright bizarre, but I haven’t seen someone coming back from the dead with a totally new appearance."

Fylass pondered about that statement; they didn’t have much idea of how this world worked, which is ironic since they could be considered God of Wonderland, so they couldn’t grasp why they changed at all. 

"I guess I am a paragon among you, guys."

"That would be an understatement. Maybe Dero could know more about this though, he has been here ever since Wonderland was founded, so they should have knowledge about your situation, and if you don’t like it, we may be able to turn you back to your previous state."

"We can hope that’s the case."

"Well, in my opinion, you look amazing in that outfit. It would be a shame to lose such a cool design!" Selene remarked, as she came closer to Fylass, dragging Wisp with her.

"I-I think I read some books that depicted a creature that l-looks similar to you. I can’t remember its name though."

"Well, that sounds like a plan! Not the main plan, but a plan that is sliiiiightly to the side. Don’t you think, Lucid?" Casey spoke up afterwards.

"...Yeah."

Fylass knew what the main plan was, get Lucid back home and maybe even visit Underland. They needed Dolly’s help for sure, since she is The Queen, and the last member of the Suit Bearers; maybe with the suits together, they can achieve that goal. Besides, visiting another kingdom that Fylass seems to have forgotten would be interesting, but time is precious. 

They looked behind to see the group, just for measure, and they realized that Chaos seemingly was having a train of thought; they mumbled as quietly as they could try to be, but Fylass wanted to know what he had in mind. They stopped walking for them to hear Chaos as he approached them, who seemed to not notice Fylass.

"...That place… familiar… have… before?" Those were the only words that they recognized from Chaos’ rambles before they realized Fylass was next to him, and backed down out of reflex.

"A-Ah, do not do that again, if you please…"

"S-Sorry."

The path was becoming slightly more awkward, even though the area looked just as bright and pretty as before, although jovial music beforehand was replaced with one resembling a circus theme playing on a music box, whose tunes seemed really similar from the one that Fylass had at home. Everyone else could hear them, and Lucid flinched.

The blue and yellow lights inside of the pumpkins were replaced with purple and green lights, and the gate of the entrance had the name changed; the circus changed. It wasn’t the Circus of Infinity anymore, it was now the Circus of Serenity.

"...What?" Lucid said loudly for the whole group to listen.

"...Is it back? The circus is back? I thought it vanished…" 

"W-Wait, what? What do you mean? Did it somehow disappear when I was absent? How?"

"Not even us know. When we went back home after you… vanished, the circus was no more. We thought that it would be gone forever though, but here it is again, and I don’t know if that is a good or a bad thing." Chaos remarked, with an uncomfortable Lucid being silent.

"Weeeeell, now that we’re here, we might as well check this out!" Mikuto spoke, as he was silently hit on the back by Kurabe and Fettuccine. 

"Sorry Kuto, but this is not the time."

"...Let’s just see if everything is in order, and then we go to the Card Castle." Fylass said, with some agreeing, and others seemingly reluctant to go in; the last time they entered this place, things weren’t really pleasant, but they had to go through it if they wanted to go to the Card Castle as soon as possible.

The kid took the first steps into this area, and they immediately felt a sense not of dread, but of calm, as if the atmosphere was completely different from the rest of the world around them.

"This place isn’t that bad! Come here, guys!" The kid was feeling happy around, and even if they knew that they had to go to their destination as soon as possible for Lucid’s sake and happiness, they wouldn’t mind staying here for quite some time if that wasn’t the case. The rest of the group entered, and they seemingly could feel the same sensation of calm Fylass was feeling around. 

The sound of laughter from both kids and adults alike was heard on every corner, and it seemed that everything was alright.

"...Wow… Meta and the kids would love this place for sure."

Fylass looked up to the skies, as they were able to see birds made from what seemed to be origami, somehow chirping, making this place even more bizarre, and even yet, lovely. One of the birds was holding a letter on the beak, and it was dropped right above Lucid.

"...Huh…? I don’t think I receive any mail in this land." He pulled out the piece of paper from inside the envelope, which had a lone sentence written on what seemed to be ink. The rest of the group took a peek on whatever the contents were.

"One minute before the start of a wonderful day."

Lucid seemed weirded out by this; the writing seemed familiar somehow, but he couldn’t put a finger on why it was familiar; his doubts only worsened though, as he realized there was something at the bottom of the envelope. It was a small key, seeming to be only useful from the smallest of items that would need a key to be open, or be used.

It was a silver key, whose pallet seemed to have the form of a minute hand, and with a golden gem embedded on the handle. 

"..." Lucid was silent. 

"Uh… Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah, I am, it’s just that… this key looks exactly the same as the keys of the White Castle in Underland. I know what it is for…"

"White Castle? A-Are you royalty, or something?"

"...It’s complicated. You see, you, along with Chaos, Ades and Dolly, are the Suit Bearers, and in Underland, we have something pretty similar; the Checkmate Bearers. You have the Club, Spade, Diamond and Heart as signatures; us in Underland have the King, Queen, Knight, Rook and Bishop as signatures." Afterwards, Lucid grabbed his hat and showed it to the group. It took a little, but they were able to notice a bishop piece of chess, printed on the hat. "I am the Bishop."

"W-Wait, what?! Why didn’t you tell us?!" Ades said with a bit of annoyance and anger in his voice."

"I did, you were all just too distracted or drunk to hear me properly. Except for Chaos." 

"Wait, you knew?!"

"Yes, I knew, although I thought that it wasn’t important."

"What do you mean "It wasn’t important"?!"

"Look, let’s just stop this for now. We’ll talk about this when we get our goal." Genesis said.

"Tch."

Fylass was silent. How didn’t they know about this? This place was the creation of them, right? Why did it feel so unfamiliar, then? These questions were put on hold however, when another one came to their mind. 

"W-Wait, so, what’s with that key?"

"That key is for the pocket watch, nothing special, don’t worry about it. I still don’t know how it ended up in a random letter in Wonderland, though…" 

Fylass took the small key, and inspected the pocket watch they were given; sure enough, from behind, there was a small lock. They could’ve figured out that using the key will move the hands of the pocket watch, and considering what was in that letter besides the key, they came up with some conclusions.

The kid inserted the key, and used it to turn the direction of the hands to 11:59, as the letter implied; the turning sound was satisfying to hear, but it suddenly stopped as a click was heard from the inside; nothing seemed to happen though, and another clicking sound was heard when the clock reached 12:00.

"...Odd." 

The entire group figured out that nothing was happening, and so, they kept their way towards the Card Castle; Fylass heard whispers from their friends, which seemed to be asking questions to Lucid; he didn’t seem to answer any. There seemed to be another entrance around, leading directly to their destination. Lucid and Genesis were glad that they didn’t have to go through Dull Glass again.

The Crimson Queens that were around the castle seemed to have a lighter color than the last time Fylass saw them, resembling more of a pink color than red. It was clear that this was Dolly’s doing; she has taste. The entrance of the castle had a big stone statue of Fylass, which just led them to more guilt.

"..."

"Are you okay, kid?"

"...I am, don’t worry… Let’s get going."

The knights guarding the entrance seemingly were absent, making it no problem to open the main door.

The inside was much more comfortable for the eye, with a lot more pastel colors filling the inside, and the new curtains seemed to resemble a theater, one that seemingly had a scent of cinnamon in the air; the exact same smell covering Fylass’ house each day. It felt oddly like home.

The group used the stairs to go towards the Heart Floor, since it was sure that Dolly would be there; Fylass was excited to see her again, but also, with a bit of anxiety for the reunion. They haven’t met for what seemed to be like a year in this oniric world, so Fylass wasn’t sure how she would react exactly, that is if she recognized them from the get go, for their new… attributes made it difficult to see who they really were.

They were in front of the Heart Door, and it seemed completely opened, although, before entering, Fylass and the rest were able to hear voices on the other side; they were arguing.

"Urgh! This is all your fault! Your laziness to do your job got us stranded here!"

"Oh, shut up, will you?!"

"If you are going to keep arguing in front of The Queen, I will have no choice but to force you to get out. Keep quiet."

"No, no! Don’t worry, Dero. This is alright! Dolly will fix this in no time!"

Fylass, accidentally was leaning too much on the door, and so, it opened fully, with the kid falling face flat on the floor, making the argument suddenly stop. The Cheshire Cats were on the verge of laughing.

"Kid! Are you okay?!" Lucid exclaimed with worry for the child’s wellbeing.

"Eurgh… Yeah, I am."

The group was interrupted by Dero afterwards, who was extremely confused about the whole ordeal.

"Who dares to enter the Queen’s Domains with that disrespect?! I shall know-"

"Wait! Dero, calm down! Dolly will take care of this!" Dolly was approaching with a face of curiosity towards the group, until she recognized them.

"Oh! You are the Suit Rally! Hi there!" Fylass assumed that the "Suit Rally" was just the name of the group. They looked above, seeing a Dolly filled with curiosity. "Oh! Who are you, sir-..." She realized who she was talking to.

"F-FYLASS?! I-IS THAT YOU?!" She quickly hugged Fylass, still on the floor. "OH, BEST FRIEND! YOU’RE WITH DOLLY AGAIN! S-SHE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!" She was tearing up, she was so glad to see Fylass again.

"W-Woah, slow down, Dolly! I am fine now! Different, but I am fine!" 

"I can s-see it! You look so adorable and cool! But what happened to you?! Where were you?!" 

"...It’s a long story."

"Please, do tell Dolly about it! She must know…!"

"...Ahem, could you please help us right here?!" 

"Oh, shut it!" Other voices were behind Dolly, and Fylass realized that those were the voices that they heard before, having an argument; before they could keep going though, they were sushed by Dero.

"Oh? Who are those?" Fylass asked, when they saw the two having a discussion. Both were seemingly human knights, or atleast, pretty similar to them, with orange and white armor. Both seemed annoyed, one to the other, and the other angry at the world.

"Oh, them? Dolly doesn’t really know…

"Banshee and Unicorn, those are our names. You would’ve known, but sadly, Banshee right here was too loud for you to hear, and for that I apologize." 

Fylass was weirded out by them; they didn’t even remember encountering someone like them before. What were they doing here?

"Er… hi?

"Greetings."

Lucid was prone to speak right after this, for they went here for that only purpose. "Er, excuse me, but please remember why we are here…"

"O-Oh, yeah. Dolly, do you know where "Underland" is?"

"...Underland? No, Dolly doesn’t think she knows, but she can look at the map! Dero, Could you help Dolly, pretty please?"

"As you wish, My Queen." Dero used his sword to reach a little lever that was above the throne, and when being turned, a painting resembling a map was there to see.

"Oh wow…" Fylass and Lucid looked at it, trying to the Underland, or at least a possible entrance to it, but to no avail, nothing was there.

"...Underland isn’t here…" Lucid was losing hope, although, soon, both him and Fylass could see a strange cabin appearing on the canvas, as a clicking sound was heard, and after one entire minute, the cabin had disappeared.

"Uh… What?" 

The kid realized that it had happened one minute since the cabin on the map appeared and disappeared, and they quickly remembered what happened with the pocket watch. 

"Wait, let me try something." Fylass used the clock to turn it to 11:59 again, and as they heard the clicking sound again, the cabin appeared, and one minute later, it was gone.

"...I think I know where to go."

"Oh! You do, best friend?" 

"I am not so sure, but going there wouldn’t hurt, right? Lucid said that the entrance to Underland had disappeared, so this is our best shot." 

Dero seemingly was having some questions on his head, from this, to Fylass’ mere changes, but he finally decided to speak up about them.

"Fylass, how did you become the Wolpertinger?"

"...Eh? I don’t know, really…" 

"I was pretty certain that those were extinct a long time ago, but you seem to be one, so I am at a loss here…"

"...I have the feeling that I might figure out what happened to me, when I get to Underland. I don’t know why, but I have that feeling…"

"Pretty well. Excuse me, I have to leave." 

"Don’t worry, Dero! The Queen says, see ya!" Dolly said, as Dero left the room.

"...Uh, hey. We are still here." Banshee remarked.

"Oh! Yeah, what if you guys go with Fylass and the group? That would certainly help for your situation! Dolly can’t go, sadly. She is trying her best to be the best queen of the world, and for that, I must not leave, since there's a big creature floating the skies, and Dolly thinks this could be a threat, or at least, that's what Dero said, but she assures you that with Fylass on your side, there’s nothing to worry about!"

"...That sounds like a plan." Unicorn said. "Hopefully, this won’t be a liability for them, nor us, soon."

"..Uh… Okay?" It seems that the gang will get two new members for this adventure. How interesting.

"...Well, we shall get going. Goodbye, Queen Dolly."

"Goodbye, Porcelain man! And please, take care of Fylass for Dolly…"

"I will do so. Don’t worry."

Everyone left the room, with Fylass waving goodbye at Dolly. Both were happy to see eachother once again.

"...Goodbye, best friend. Dolly wishes you luck in your endeavors…"

-------

@lostsoulau-ask

@loaflovesdoodling

@galakianexplosion

@kachikirby

@theflutteringdreameater

@monsterhatdoodles

@moon-mage

@den-of-the-blue-dragon

@ilikesillythingswooo

[mikey180]

Hatz and Khun x reader like Bayonetta

head cannons

type- fluff

Hatz-

He likes seeing how you fight. He finds the techniques you use to be quite fascinating.

Enjoys the silent moments you have together and how he knows you care about him without smothering him in physical affection.

ya know, like, how you two can share sweet moments instead of overbearingly intimate and invading ones.

Don't get him wrong though, he loves it when you two end up hugging or cuddling and he wouldn't give them up for the world, but when looking at other couples he finds their "special" moments to be suffocating.

Doesn't really like how impatient you are, but he finds how fast you put other people that show romantic interest in you down, that's the only time he enjoys your attitude.

You should expect a lot of sparing, not for him to beat you, but to help him understand how to block and evade other kinds of attacks.

You know that since you're in the tower there has to be other people like you in the tower.

While you are sparing though, all of the sarcastic and flirty remarks you make never fail to make him blush.

He once again failed to dodge your attack, your sword stopping just bearly an inch away from him. "What happened Hatz? I thought you said you had it this time?" you smirked at him not making any move to lower your sword "do you need an incentive to do better? I could start cutting it just a bit closer."

He felt the sharp, cold blade dig into his skin and goosebumps form along his neck. "No, I just need more practice." he stepped to the side."Maybe we should switch back to my whip, hm?" he shot you a questioning stare

"well it looked like you enjoyed working with that one quite a bit more, Hatz." Your teasing smile returned when you saw him try to process your words. Suddenly a look of realization crossed his face as soon as he look at you, quickly turning around to avoid your gaze and hide the light blush adorning his cheeks.

It didn't work very well as he refuses to believe that his ears turn red as well, so of course, you noticed.

Khun-

he's a lot like Hatz in the sense that all of the quiet moments and quality time mean a lot to him. (so I'm sorry his is short)

however, he counters your teasing with his own.

the back and forth, ummm, not child-friendly comments, that would embarrass anyone else, is spoken freely between the two of you. If you really want to see him blush though say one of them in public. ya know like in the back of a crowded spencers (those who know, know)

Takes a huge interest in your demons.

Asks you to introduce them all to him, but the entire time you're talking about them he's just kind of wondering how you got them all

"And this is Madama Butterfly," you say gesturing to one of your summons, as you turn to look at Khun, only to see him still bent over looking at one of your smaller demons. He hadn't looked at any of the other two you had brought since the first one.

"Khun?" you asked a little bit of annoyance lacing your voice "Are you listening?" He slowly tore his eyes away from it, head facing you before his eyes followed.

"yes beautiful, I am listening. please go on." You sighed as you watched him slowly put all of his attention back on the first one. "Khun? Whats on your mind?" "hmm?" he looked at you again "what did you say y/n?" his eyebrows furrowed as your face started to show more signs of annoyance than you would have liked it too.

" I asked what was on your mind, Khun. what are you thinking about?" Khun took his time, trying to find out how to word his thoughts in a way that would make sense. "I'm wondering how you got all of them."

"ah well...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sorry if the reader isn't what you wanted, but I've never played one of her games. I do apologize for how long this took to write, I got a bit of writer's block on Khun's part. @jaycenicolasluver

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Yuma Ecstasy [01]

ー The scene starts in the shopping mall 

Yuma: Why do we have to do that guy’s damn groceries...?

Oi, Yui. Is there anythin’ else left we gotta buy?

Yui: Let me see...Fish and vegetables, I suppose.

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: Ah, Yuma-kun. This Chinese cabbage might be a good call. It’s vibrant in color and looks delicious!

Yuma: Haah...Ya don’t have an eye for this sorta stuff at all, do ya?

...Take a proper look. Can’t ya see the brown spots over there?

Yui: Ah...You’re right...!

Yuma: There’s obvious black spots as well, so this isn’t a very good one.

If I had to pick amongst theseーー

*Rustle*

Yuma: Yeah, this is the one. Its got a nice weight to it as well.

Go and put it on our basket.

*Rustle* 

Yui: S-Sure...!

( Uu...I feel like I failed as a girl... )

( Perhaps I should leave choosing the products up to Yuma-kun... )

Selection

→ No, I’ll choose the fish! (S)

Yui: ( I shouldn’t throw in the towel. I’ll choose the fish! )

*Rustle* 

Yui: ( This one seems good! Okay, this is my come-back...! )

Yuma-kun! What do you think of this fish...!?

Yuma: ...Aah?

Haah...Ya should push the cart. I’ll do the choosin’.

Yui: ( N-No good... )

 → Leave it up to Yuma-kun (M)

Yui: ( It might be better if I push the cart rather than making the wrong choices. )

Hey, Yuma-kun...!

Yuma: Ah? 

Yui: Can I ask you to pick out the products? I’ll push the cart...!

Yuma: Hmー ...Sure. Here ya go.

Yui: Yeah, leave it to me!

( This is...for the best, right? )

Yui: I guess we’ve got everything now. Nothing else on the list.

Yuma: We’re finally done? Let’s go check-out real quick then.

Yui: Yeah...!

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Uu...The cart’s loaded with stuff, it’s really hard to push... )

Yuma: ...

ー Yuma approaches her

Yuma: ...Guess I’ve got no other choice.

Come on, I’ll help push from behind.

Then you’ll be able to carry it all, right?

Yui: Yuma-kun...Thanks!

*Rustle rustle* 

Yui: ( B-But...We’re a little close like this, it’s making me nervous... )

Yuma: Oi, whatcha suddenly gone quiet for?

Yui: N-No! That’s not it...

Yuma: If it’s heavy, guess I gotta scoot a even closer to help ya.

Yui: ...!!

( He’s doing this on purpose...! )

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: Y-Yuma-kun...You’ll shock the people around us if you get too close...?

Yuma: Who gives a damn? I’m only helpin’ ya push the cart, that’s all.

There’s nothing behind it at all, is there...?

Yui: ( Uu...He’s definitely getting a kick out of this...! )

Yuma: But ya know...I only realized just now but if I move just a lil’ closer, I could basically latch onto yer neck. 

*Rustle* 

Yuma: ーー What do ya say? Can I suck yer blood?

Yui: Don’t even think about it...!

Yuma: Hm...So ya wouldn’t mind if there were no other people ‘round?

Yui: That’s not the issue...!

Yuma: Hehe...Someone’s desperate, huh? Relax. I won’t suck yer blood over here.

But well...

Nn...I might still do this?

*Smooch*

Yui: ...!!

( Geez...Yuma-kun! )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[thenerdnextdoorxo]

Hello! Agatha Harkness in yandere mode x fem! R maybe 😍

I never watched Wandavision but I think I know enough about her, sorry for taking so long to reply

You were driving to your new house in a new town called Westview. From what you heard, it was a small town with nice people and calm neighborhood, and that's exactly what you were looking for. Your old neighborhood was so toxic and you needed a fresh start, so this is perfect. When you arrived at the neighborhood, you noticed that everyone was looking as if it was the first time in a while that anyone moved here, which might be the case.

As you reached your new house, you started to admire it. Simple, cute, and neat, just what you were looking for. You started to get your things inside your house and started to unpack and design the place. After a few hours you started to get tired and hungry. "I wish I started with the kitchen first," You commented as you put your hands on your hips. Just as you said that, the doorbell rang.

You were confused as to who would be at your door since you were new to this town. When you opened the door you saw that it was a dark haired woman with a plate in her hand. "Hello there! I just saw that you moved here and I decided to come and say hi!" She said with a cheerful smile. "How sweet! thank you, my name is Y/N, Y/N L/N," You said, extending your hand to shake hers. "I'm Agatha, nice to meet you sweetheart," She said, shaking your hand back. "Come in, take a seat, I hope you don't mind the boxes, I just started unpacking," "Oh don't worry dear, I completely understand." She said, putting the plate on the table.

"You have a really cozy place in here!" She said looking around. "Thank you, but I just started putting everything in it's place, I'm sure it will look better then," You stated. "Until then, how about we eat the lasagna I brought? Then I can help you with the unpacking," She said smirking at you. "That would be great!" You said, starting to prepare the dinner table and the plates.

"Take a bite dear, and tell me what do you think," She said leaning at the table. As soon as you took a bite from it, you started to get dizzy. "Agathe..." You said, reaching out to her for support, which she did help you before you fall. "Don't worry, everything is going to be alright, I'm gonna take care of you," She said, stroking your hair, that's when you fell unconscious.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You woke up with a slight headache and in a room that you were sure wasn't in your new house. You were about to stand up but was pulled back by something. You looked down and realized that it was handcuffs. "What the hell?" You cursed. "Nah, ah, ahh, I don't wanna hear any bad word comes out of your sweet innocent mouth again, do you hear me?" Someone said from your side. Agatha.

"We don't want your innocence to get tainted now do we?" She said, walking closer to you. "Agatha! let me go you crazy bitch!" You exclaimed, and then you felt a strong splash hit you face. "What did I say about cursing, hm? I said I don't want to hear any cursing come out of your mouth!" She said. You looked at the woman, horrified. What does she want from you? All you wanted is to be in a new place to change your life to the better!

Noticing your tears, Agatha started to stroke your cheek where she hit you. "Aww, I'm so sorry for scaring you sweetheart, but I had to discipline you, who would if I didn't," She said, taking her hand away from your cheek. "You see, I've been watching you ever since you came here to check the house out before buying it, and ever since then, I knew you were mine. I hexed the seller to tell me information about you and when are you moving here, and I told everyone in town to stay the hell away from you, I don't want anyone looking at you of course," She said, smirking down at you.

"Welcome to your new home, Y/N,"

================================================

I feel like this sucks, let me know if it is so I can delete it and write it again

My requests are open

<3333

[frogmanfae]

This but post season 2

Simon POV

I suppose I noticed it for the first time when we were watching a movie together. Wille had stopped his absentminded stroking of my arm as we were cuddled up together. It was about two months after we had gone public about our relationship, which isn't exactly enough time for the monarchy to fully recover but they tend to adapt to things quickly out of necessity to keep up appearances, so things had mostly calmed down. Despite this, Wille had seemingly gotten more and more distant the longer time went on.

"Wille?" I asked. "Is something wrong?" No response. "Wille? "

"Hm?" He lifted his head to look at me. It was as if I had woken him from a long rest. 

"Are you okay? What's going on?" I had pushed some hair away from his eyes.

He shook his head. "Nothing. I'm fine." He smiled. It was so obviously fake. He yawned and said something about a test he had the next day.

Since then, he got progressively distant. It started with cancelling plans, then making excuses to not make plans at all. Eventually it escalated to him avoiding me. Now, I hardly ever see him, but he looks okay when I do. Rather, he would look okay to anyone else. But me? I know him too well to be fooled by the concealer he wears to cover his growing eye bags.

*************

I bite the strings of my hoodie as I flip through the channels on the TV, Rosh sitting on the couch next to me and Ayub on the floor between us.

"I can't believe he'd pull this shit." Rosh exclaims. "He's been nothing but a dick to you this entire-"

"Shh!" I wave my hand in her direction. My eyes are glued to the screen, the news channel showing a heartbreaking story. "Oh my god... This is it. This is the reason Wilhelm has been so distant. Erik's birthday is this week..."

"Simon-"

"How could I be so oblivious? It's not that I messed things up, he's hurting!" I run my hands over my face. "Oh my god..."

"Hey, how were you supposed to know? Neither of us knew! I mean, what average citizen knows all the birthdays of important people?" Ayub attempts to reassure.

"Yeah! Besides he didn't tell you how he was feeling, so isn't it kind of his fault?" Rosh offers.

"The fuck? No! Of course it's not his fault!" I snap. "Wilhelm has been forced to conceal his emotions his entire life from everyone! It doesn't come easy for him to talk to people! Not even me! I have to be willing to really listen and we haven't done anything that would give him the right opportunity."

"I'm just saying that he should talk to you instead of pushing you away!"

"Rosh, it's not that easy for him. It took me a long time to realize that myself. He wants to talk to me, I could see it in his eyes. He just feels like he can't." I sigh, taking out my phone to message him.

ᴡɪʟʟᴇ, ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴀᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡs. ɪ'ᴍ sᴏ sᴏʀʀʏ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ɴᴏ ɪᴅᴇᴀ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ?

I wait a long time. At some point, Rosh and Ayub leave. Wille never opens my message. I never fall asleep.

*************

When I get to school, he isn't there. Nowhere in sight. It worries me to know he's upset and I can't find him.

"Ah! Felice!" I run over to her. She and I have gotten closer in the last several months, but she's still more Wille's friend than mine. "Felice! Have you seen Wille anywhere?"

"Uhh... No. No he went back to the palace yesterday." She shuffles on her feet. "You know, to uh..." She frowns. "Prepare for the ceremony tomorrow."

I run my hands through my hair. "God, I feel like such an idiot. I had no idea!"

"I'm surprised the choir isn't doing a tribute, honestly. I thought we would have started working on it a month ago."

"Well a lot was going on with the Royal Family a month ago." I sigh. "We'll probably sing the traditional Hillerska song, we work on that every day."

She nods. "Yeah, that would make sense. How's Wille doing? He's refused to talk to me."

"I have no idea! He's been avoiding me for weeks. You know how he gets, he feels like he has to be alone when he's hurting. I didn't realize that this was coming up so fast..." I rub my eyes.

"Simon, it's not your fault. You-"

She's interrupted by the sound of chairs against the floor. I quickly find my place, holding forced posture behind an empty chair as we greet the teacher. She allows us to be seated and begins class, but my mind is on other things.

*************

I try to call Wille again (several times, actually) but he never answers. He still hasn't opened my message from last night.

If only he were a normal teenager. I could go to his house to check on him myself. But he's not a normal teenager. He's the Crown Prince of Sweden. I can't exactly just show up to the Royal Palace unannounced. Especially not now. Not when they're mourning their eldest son and brother.

Wille POV

I see that Simon messaged me. Several times. I want to message back, but I honestly don't have the energy. I know that I've been distant lately, but it isn't a matter of not wanting to be around him. I desperately want to be around him. I've simply been too exhausted, mentally, anyway, to do anything with anyone. Even Simon. All I want to do is wrap myself in a blanket and cry.

I didn't even notice myself pulling away until maybe a week ago. It's a bad habit, I suppose. Erik always told me I have a lot of those.

Since I've gotten to the palace, I haven't done much of anything. I've spent all my time in Erik's room, wrapped up in his blanket. His scent has all but faded away from it.

Sometimes I think back on our last conversation and wonder if he knew. He realized I had met someone I really liked, but not once did he assume it was a girl. Not outwardly anyway. Maybe I had said something when we got drunk together some night. Maybe he saw the way I looked at his body guard (who happened to be quite attractive, though much too old for me) as opposed to how I looked at the girls he brought over.

Maybe he knew but didn't say anything so I would be able to tell him on my own terms.

Or maybe he had no idea and I'm reading into things too much.

God I hate this. I hate not being able to talk to him. I hate being left to wonder. All of these what if questions that will never be answered. They're suffocating.

Why did this happen to me?

Simon POV

We have the day off of class to mourn the late Crown Prince. I spend all of it on my phone trying to reach Wille, but I know it's no use. On every TV channel, there's a tribute to Erik. I shut it off because I don't feel like I should have the right. Why are we not only able, but encouraged to watch this? This should be private time for the Royal Family to grieve. The fact that they have to keep appearances for the camera is sickening. There was a close up on Wille. He looked normal enough, but I noticed streaks if dark gray beneath his eyes. It didn't take much for me to realize the makeup wasn't tear resistant.

*************

Wille didn't come back to school until three days after the ceremony. He sent me a message yesterday.

ɪ'ᴍ sᴏʀʀʏ, sɪᴍᴍᴇ.

What the hell was he apologizing for? Did he not want to talk to me ever again? Did I not do enough? Are we over?

"Simon." I look up from my paper to see Felice. "Uh... Wille is back. He's in his room if you want to see hi-"

I collect my things and just go. I practically run to his room. By the time I knock on his door, I'm out of breath.

"Wille? Are you in there?"

There's a long pause. "Simon? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me." I place my palm flat against the door. "I'm here."

"... The door is unlocked."

I take that as permission to enter. I gently shut the door behind me. If I didn't know any better, I wouldn't have even noticed Wille was there. He was completely engulfed in his bedding. The only part of him I could see was some hair and a sliver of his eyes. They were wet and red and puffy and yet showed no emotion.

I gingerly sat on the edge of the bed by his chest. We stay silent for a while, not sure of what to say or how to say it. That is until-

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm so sorry, Simon."

"For what? You have nothing to be sorry abou-"

"I totally cut you out of my life for weeks with no explanation. I didn't even realize I was doing it. I'm so sorry. It's not that I didn't want to be around you, because I did. I do. I love being around you I just... I don't know. I didn't feel like I could be around anyone." He got quieter. "All I wanted was to be with Erik..."

"Oh, Wille..." I brush the hair away from his eyes. "Wille you have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't realize that his birthday was approaching so soon. I should have been there for yo-"

"Simon, why would you have known. I honestly don't even think you know my birthday." I make a mental note to google that later. "Why would you know his? Honestly, I think I'd be jealous if you did." He chuckles.

I smile. "I suppose. I still feel bad, though. How about I cook for you? Not tonight, but when you feel up for it again. It won't make up for it, but... I think we could both use some time to just talk, yeah?"

He nods. We fall silent again. We remain like this for a while. Just together.

"I bought his gift." He abruptly breaks the silence.

"What?" I pushed his hair away from his eyes again.

"Erik's gift. I already bought it. In the summer." He shifts the blanket away from his face a little bit more. "I like buying people's gifts well ahead of time." He smiles. "He knew I did and he wouldn't shut up about it. He spent months-" he drops his smile. "He spent... the rest of his life... trying to get me to tell him what it was. I never did. It was a surprise. He never found out..."

"Wille-"

"They were a new set of hubcaps." He shut his eyes. "They were silver, he always preferred it to gold. They we're engraved too. They had his name and mine and said once a brother always a brother. He would always say that to me when I got into some situation and thought he was upset with me. It was some stupid recycled slogan, but it did reassure me that no matter how mad he was he always loved me." He smiled again, but it wasn't a happy smile. "He loved that car too. That damn car. How ironic is it that I got him a gift for the thing that ultimately killed him with a statement that isn't even true."

"What do you mean it isn't true?"

"Simon, I used to be a brother. Now I'm not. Once a brother but not forever would be more fitting."

"Wille..." He shakes his head. "Wille you're still his brother just-" he shakes his head harder, squeezing his eyes shut so tightly I could see every wrinkle his face was capable of making. I stop trying to reassure him, it'll only cause him more pain. It isn't what he needs right now. Luckily, I think I know what he does need. "... Would you like me to hold you?"

In the most broken, pleading voice I've ever heard, Wille barely musters to ask, "please?"

I pull him into the tightest hug I possibly can and he cries into my chest. And we just stay like that. I know he should have talked to me, but I also should have asked. We both need to work on communication. It's okay though, we've been through enough to know we can make it through a rough patch.

Right now, I just have to be here for Wille. That's it. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just be here with him.

And I wouldn't rather anything else.

[wabatle-ocs]

Estranged Friends chapter 4: Outside Encounter

tagging: @stellas-starry-stories13 @ravenmoon903

masterlist

“Hm? Did you say something, Rin?”

“Huh? No.”

“Okay, whatever, sure.” Hikari replied.

Rin was trailing behind Hikari slowly, in a whirlwind of thoughts.

“Rin? What're you doing?” Hikari asked, stopping to look at him.

“Huh? Er, nothing.” He kept walking, passing Hikari.

“Itoshi Rin. Iiiiitoshi.”

“What're you doing, stupid?”

“I dunno. Just thinking about your surname. Iiiiiiitoshi.”

“Stop it. I don't associate myself with that name anymore.”

“Huh?” Hikari blinked. “Why? Did you have a fight with your parents or something? One time I had a fight with my sister, I told her I was gonna change my last name so people wouldn't… associate… us… Rin.” Hikari’s voice slowed as the realization hit her.

“You had a fight with Sae, didn't you?”

“Shut up right now. I'm not talking about this with you.” Rin started walking away, passing the door to the training room.

“Hey, I was just asking a question! Rin! Hey, Rin!”

Rin walked into the locker room, and despite no warning, Hikari knew if there were anyone else in there, they would be men. So, Hikari sat down outside.

The door opened, revealing a familiar purple-haired face.

“Reo?”

“Ah, Hikari?! What're you doing here?” Reo stammered, genuinely surprised to see his girlfriend.

“W–well, remember how I told you I got offered a job right before you left to come here?”

“Don't tell me…”

“Yeah, I got offered a job here. As a coach!”

“Wait, so what team are you coaching? I'm on Team V with Nagi.”

“That's the thing, I can't coach teams yet until I coach this one person.”

“Oh. Who's the person?”

“I don't think you know him.”

Reo sat down next to Hikari. “Him?”

“Well, what did you expect? This is for men, not women.”

“He's not a threat, right?”

Hikari put her arm around Reo. “Nah, not at all. I love you, Reo.”

Reo put his head on her shoulder.

“Yeesh, you're sweaty.” She commented, a teasing grin appearing on her face.

“So are you,” he mumbled, “I don't mind though.”

“I don't mind either.”

“How's coaching going, then?”

“He's good. I think I'm barely on the same level as him. Although, I guess I don't have to be better, or even good at soccer to be a coach. I just have to know how to play, right?”

He shrugged. “I guess. But you are good at soccer.”

“I know. Playing with Rin proved that.”

“Rin?”

“Oh, sorry, that's his name.”

“Is that the guy that bullied you in middle school?”

“Well, yeah, but we're getting along better now. Besides, he didn't bully me, it was just one fight.”

“I wouldn't trust him.”

“I don't. I told him I can't trust that he won't do something like that again.” Hikari sighed. “Is this just you being overprotective because you're worried I'll dump you for him?”

Reo scoffed. “No.”

“I can tell you're lying.”

Reo pulled her closer. “Please don't leave me.”

“I won't.” She rubbed his arm. “Just trust me, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.” He mumbled, kissing her cheek.

“Can you—” Reo was cut off by a voice.

“Reo, wh— Hikari? Reo, why's Hikari here?” It was Nagi.

“Oh, Seishiro!”

“Hikari's here, huh?” Nagi sat down on the other side of Hikari, immediately putting his head on her shoulder. “Why didn't you tell me, Reo?”

“I just found out myself.” Reo replied.

“Hikaaa… Why didn't you tell us?” Nagi asked.

“Well…” Hikari began.

“Waaait. Is there a reason you didn't tell us?” Reo added.

“I just…I guess I didn't want you two to be all over me, like, I don't know, asking me to come see you ‘n stuff.”

“...Oh.” Reo said.

“J–just ‘cause I'm busy… ‘n stuff? Right?” Hikari let out a loud sigh. “I'm sorry. I should've told you.”

“Nah, I understand.” Reo smiled. “We probably would be like, ‘HIKAAA COME HERE!!!’ every time we saw you.”

“Ah…” Hikari let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks babe.”

“I miss Choki…” Nagi mumbled.

“Don't worry, I'm taking good care of it!” Hikari gave him a reassuring thumbs up. “It's in my office.”

“That's good. Thanks, Hika.”

“Of course! Choki’s my best friend. I might dump you for Choki, Reo.”

“Nooo!!” Reo moved his head closer to Hikari’s, feigning distress.

“Just kidding! I love all three of you!”

Rin stepped outside the locker room. “Hika—ah, er, Keiko…” He stammered, realizing the position Hikari was in.

[justiisms]

*while out and about, shinigami is eagerly taking in all the sights as a ton of people are celebrating the beginning of the year! she's darting around every which way, except at some point she gets lost in the crowd and doesn't return? the mischievous spirit is nowhere to be seen, not a single hint of her tiny ball form anywhere! however, the chain linking her and her master together hasn't materialized so she must be close by...*

"That's not fair! I want a Slime cake too!" *despite all the people around, one voice stands out in particular, it coming from a certain red-suited individual! however, he appears to pouting as he stares down at his hands, the man carrying an open box! he looks around before spotting the tiny detective, a dramatic frown on his face as he stomps over and shows him what's inside, it being a cake with a slime made out of frosting right on top of it!*

"Master, I want a cake just like this! In fact... how about we go home really quick and drop it off? Then we can come back here and we can pretend this neeeever happened! I wanna see the look on this dopey himbo's face when he realizes his cake is missing! I wouldn't be surprised if he asks for your help in finding it! Kyahaha~!!"

Yuma was also taking in the sights, smiling at seeing all the happy people strolling about! He also chuckles at seeing Shinigami enjoying herself, too~ But then at some point, he doesn't see her floating around close by... ("Shinigami...?") Quickly stepping under the overhang of a building so that he's not in the way of walking pedestrians, he quickly looks around for her. He expected the spirit chain to start yanking him at some point, but sees that it eventually doesn't, so she must be nearby! ("But, where is she?? Hey Shinigami, can you hear me? Where are y-") Then he hears a familiar voice, cutting him out of his train of thought in surprise!!

"Huh? Is that...?" Stepping out, he looks at the next building over and sees that it's Ichiban!! "M-Mr. Ichiban...?" Walking closer to him, he greets: "Hello: Happy Birthday and Happy New Year! ...Hm?" He tiles his head when his uncle shows him the slime cake. "Ah, is that the Dragon Quest slime? Hehe, how nice. .....Wait a minute...." Something about what he said, and the pouty face he was making, was off... He wishes he could get a cake he already has...? But then 'he' continued talking, and..."O-Oh, no... don't tell me..."

Him saying 'Master' also gave it away, too: now he knows where she has floated off to!!! Or rather: flew into...!!! Sighing loudly, he slumps his shoulders before crossing his arms, and gives her a Look!!! ("No. To stealing his cake, I mean; especially not on his birthday, you know that wouldn't be right...! A-And if I help him "find" a cake that suddenly ended up at my house, he'll definitely catch on that it's suspicious! Also, wh-what have I told you about possessing people?! Now come on , g-get out of him and let him have his cake in peace... who knows, if we ask nicely, maybe he'll be happy to share some. Well, however way you somehow consume things, at least, once he's not around.... A-Anyway, come on, stop messing around! We can even check the bakery to see if they have another or put in a special order for one, if you'd prefer.")

[ilyuu-archive]

another day. (commission iv.)

the bell above the doorframe chimes, signaling a customer’s leave.

“sheesh.”

yui sighs into the palm of their hands, the only source of sanity found in the lines and scars. the smile they wore just another facade amid facades, fading as easily as it came on - it’s more peeved than anything.

“you can do everything right and there’ll still be some people who’ll say it isn’t right despite it being their own order. the receipt was in their damn hand too.”

heavy coffee beans and vanilla clings onto them like a lover, never whisked or fading away with the hours that kept crawling. of course it’s just one of those days.

right now,

“here.”

“oh, thanks.”

a small cup of tea, nothing like the ones in fontaine, yet just as delicately-scented, is placed before their eyes. said gaze moves over to the person over their shoulder - it’s ei. “another one of those type of customers, yes?”

her eyes drifts over to the door, a subtle frown on their face that didn’t seem to fit her.

“yup.” yui picks up the cup and swirls it around just lightly so it wouldn’t spill, the teabag swaying side to side. “eh, at that point, people just like to be angry for the heck of it.”

“is that so?”

“there won’t always be decent customers, although they’re the majority.” they tilt the cup to their lips and hums at the sudden surge of energy - it’s leaning towards bitterness, just the way they like it.

“there’d be ones with the most specific orders, ones who are in the bad mood and think it’s justified to throw it at the cashier who’s just trying to get to their next check, creepy ones, others that think you’re trying to scam you because of the total price, and, uh, so on.”

“you speak from experience.” ei comes a bit closer, standing beside yui. even as the latter isn’t looking at her, they can hear the quiet curiosity in her voice. they find that cute.

“that’s because i’ve been working something similar to this for a few months now, that’s— ah.”

“what is it?”

“…i’ve been talking way too much.” yui takes another sip that has the tea half-way empty, as if trying to stop themselves with that break.

“is that a problem for you? if so, then i apologize for inciting that.”

“no, no, not like it’s a problem and all, i— uh… well, wonder if it’s just a bit annoying, y’know?”

“hm. it is not. as you said to me the other day, i find you talking about such small things… quite remarkable and refreshing.” her brows furrow once again, this time for trying to find the words that’ll be able to convey what she’s feeling. she isn’t used to it.

“it gives me both a new view to admire as well as to look into, as well as it proves informational to me - for i realized then to now that i know little to nothing when it comes to you.”

“oh.” they feel a slight warmth in their cheeks. “oh. uh, then again, it’s not exactly like i talk about myself all that much so—”

“only when not prompted, i’ve noticed.” ei lifts her hand over theirs, hesitant for just a moment, before setting it atop. yui feels that warmth again. “that is why i’d like to start to if that is not too forward of me, of course.”

“no, that’s alri—”

the bell chimes again. ei takes her hand away quicker than a lightning crackling against the skies, and yui do the same. the surprise on their face smoothens into a smile, just polite enough to make the newly arrive customer feel at ease (at least, that’s what yui likes to think.)

“hi, what can i get for you?”

“a grande, please, iced, and 2% coconut milk alongside with 4% oat milk, no dairy for me, bone dry, chai tea as well. with that, a small skinny latte, extra foam, soy and almond, with those pumpkin spices atop and—”

neat. yui attempts to write it all down as quickly as they can, knowing that they’ll rue it over later when they can’t read their messy handwriting.

just another day. that’s fine.

[libraryofloveletters]

Crazy In Love

Eddie Diaz x Reader 

Warnings: mentions of injuries, Eddie can’t do math or cook for shit, friends to lovers :))) 

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: takes place after Stuck (2x04) when abuela breaks her hip. Also, this was supposed to be for 911 readers week but I didn’t finish it in time sooooo just take it now instead :) 

-----

The phone rang, your arm stretched over the pile of dishes on the counter. “Hello ?” you answered, putting it on speaker and setting it back down.

Eddie’s voice rang through the speaker, echoing through the empty apartment. “Hey, can you do me a huge favour ?”

“If you're gonna ask me to bake a cake, I have literally no time, honey. I’m really sorry but I need to finish this order-” Eddie sounds like he cut himself off before saying something as you explain that you’re busy.

“Eds? Are you there ?”

“Yeah- yeah, I'm here.”

“What’s up?”

“You’re busy, I don’t want to bother you.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes because no matter how busy you are, you always made time for Eddie. He sighs heavily, so much so that you can hear him thinking.

“Eddie, what is it ?”

“Can you pick Chris up from school ? I know you’re busy but if you can’t, that’s ok-” “of course I can pick him up!”

The sound of a breath being released before a feminine voice called out for him. “I gotta go, Abuela needs me but he’s off at 3. Thank you, y/n - really.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Eddie.”

He mumbles something before hanging up. You glance at the phone screen - 2:24. You had enough time to change and shove the dishes in the dishwasher before having to head out so you did just that.

You had picked up Christopher from school a million times. His teachers knew you well enough that Eddie no longer had to call and let them know he wouldn't be picking up Chris but that you would be.

Standing outside of the school, the PTA parents were gossiping within their little bubbles, talking about the other members behind their backs but smiling in their faces. You bit back a smile before walking towards the gate. The students were lined up by the door, waiting for the bell to ring.

The moment it does, the students come running out with their teacher a few feet behind them in an attempt to keep up with them. One by one, their teacher lets them out, Christopher finally spotting you and this teacher waves hello as they open the gate for him.

“Y/n! What are you doing here!?” his little face lights up with a smile.

“Your dad asked me to come get you, he's with abuela.”

The two of you start making your way back to the car when Christopher asks you what his plans for the afternoon were. Soon you realized that Eddie didn’t give you any explanation as to where to go or what to do after you picked up Chris.

“How does ice cream and then abuela’s sound ?”

“Can we take some for her and dad too?” Chris asks as you help him into the car.

“Of course we can.”

----

Christopher was lugging his backpack over his shoulder when you knocked on the door, two containers of ice cream in hand. Eddie opens the door, grinning at his son whose face matches his father’s.

“Hey kiddo” Eddie kneels, wrapping the boy in his arms. Christopher’s arms extend around his father, “hi dad, we bought ice cream” he points out the obvious.

Eddie glances up at you, the ice cream tucked under your arm - he flashes you a smile.

“Oh yeah?” he lets go of Chris. “Did you have any?”

“No,” he shakes his head, his hair flopping around as he snickers. Eddie pushes the hair from Christopher’s forehead. “So what’s this on your face?” swiping his finger on Chris’s chin, a little smudge of brown on his finger from the leftover ice cream.

“Paint.” Chris smiles at his father sweetly.

“Uh huh, paint.” he chuckles, stepping aside for Chris to come further into the house.

“Thanks for picking him up,” he leans on the door frame, stretching and his arms lift above his head as he does. You can’t help but glance down at the area of exposed skin - eyes glued to the man in front of you.

“Y/n?” Eddie’s waving his hands in front of you, eyes raising from their previous spot to his face - the blush was creeping up on your face whilst that stupid smug smile of his was on his.

“Would you like to come in?”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Stepping in, you take in the house. You had been by Isabel’s once or twice before but you had never come inside the house. The walls were painted a warm yellow colour, the furniture was spotless as was the rest of the house. Isabel sat on the couch with Chris beside her as he told her about his day at school.

“Chris, did you wash your hands?” Eddie calls, the door shutting. Chris doesn't answer which is an answer in itself. “Go now, please.” Eddie’s voice sounds closer, glancing behind you to see him beside you.

Chris grumbles but gets up, Isabel turns her attention to you and Eddie. “How are you feeling ?”

“As well as someone can with a broken hip” she gives you a smile.

“I’m glad you’re okay, you gave Eddie a scare” giving him a playful shove. “We got ice cream, vanilla and toffee. Chris said toffee was your favourite” handing her the small container. “It is, thank you. That’s so sweet of you.” she smiles, pulling the top off.

“No need to thank me, it was Christopher’s idea.”

“Ah, well I'll thank him when he comes back out.” she says smiling, “Eddie, a spoon please ?” she glances at the man beside you. He hums, stepping away for a moment to get her a spoon.

Chris comes running back in after washing his hands. “Dad! Can we stay over? Abuela said it was okay” he’s beside his father now, looking up at him with his big brown eyes that were practically begging him to let him.

You, Eddie and Isabel all knew that Christopher had his father wrapped around his finger and would ultimately get his way but Eddie had to give him a fatherly response and say no, they should go home. Isabel doesn't usually butt in but this time she did.

“Mijo, stay. I could use the company.” She says, patting the spot beside her and Chris makes his way over to sit beside her.

Eddie sighs, if he had a soft spot, it was for the two people on the couch. “Fine, just tonight then.”

Isabel smiles, satisfied with his answer. “y/n, stay for dinner darling. Eddie’s cooking” “Yea- who said I was cooking?” Eddie butts in, shocked at the assumption. “I did, mijo. Don’t worry, I'll tell you what to do.”

“Buddy, why don’t you finish up your homework so you can relax for the rest of the night ?” Eddie calls out to Chris, who again groans. He loved school but despised homework - as did most kids.

“I have math, I need help so I can’t do it because you’re busy.” Chris says plainly, thinking his statement will get him out of his math work because Eddie can’t do math for shit.

“I can help.”

“Y/n, you don't have to-” “no, it’s fine. C’mon kiddo” Chris grumbles, making his way to the dining room table, the two of you taking a seat when Eddie helps Isabel up and to the kitchen.

You can hear them talking and her telling Eddie to cut things a certain way or not to put too much of something into the pot. It only took 20 minutes for Christopher to finish his math homework, he brought it into the kitchen to show his dad.

“Look! I’m done! Math’s easy when you understand it.” that last bit was a little dig at Eddie and his math skills. You ruffled Chris’s hair as he walked back into the living room.

“Did he just-” Eddie watches his son make his way to the couch.

You hold back a laugh,“Mhm hm” Eddie shakes his head, chuckling. “Here, taste this.” he picks up some sauce from the pot, holding the spoon over his hand before handing it to Isabel.

Her face twists when she tastes it, “Eddie, I love you honey, but that’s terrible.” you press your lips together, holding back a chuckle.

“What?” he pouts, sighing. “I swear it tasted fine ten minutes ago.” sitting beside Isabel in defeat.

You pick up another spoon and taste some for yourself, your expression matching Isabel’s from moments ago. Eddie had remembered to put everything in, except the paprika and the salt, you add a bit of both and stir the pot. Taking the spoon from Eddie, you pick up a bit of the sauce and hand it back to Isabel.

“Ah, that’s better.” she hums, making you smile as she hands you back the spoon. Eddie sighs, letting you know that he was still there.

"Why don’t you go see if Christopher wants to watch something or if he wants a snack ?” his grandmother nudged him, a signal for him to leave the kitchen. “y/n can take over for you”

“Abuela, you can’t invite them in and have them work for their dinner.” he says, making her laugh.

“It’s okay Eds,” waving him off. “I don’t mind, really.”

Eddie left the kitchen and made his way over to the couch, listening as Chris told him about his day. He glanced back to see if everything was alright but he noticed that the two of you were laughing as you told Isabel something. Eddie would be lying if his heart didn’t skip a beat.

He stopped seeking his parents’ approval of who he dated- for a matter of fact, it went out the window when he brought Shannon home the first time but seeing you with an abuela made him so warm and happy, he couldn't help but smile.

---

Eddie’s hand slipped onto your hip, his chest against your back. “Can I help you, Eddie?” you mumble, your eyes on the dishes in front of you.

He hums, hands coming around and arms now wrapped around your waist. Eddie felt your wet hands pull his hands off of you, “Isabel and Chris are in the other room, stop it”

His head tilted, that innocent look on his face, “stop what?”

“Eddie,” turning to face him, “shh I don’t want to hear it” he cuts you off, hands back on your waist.

“I don’t think I've ever loved someone the way I love you.” His words come off so sweet and loving but hit you like a ton of bricks.

You loved Eddie, more than anything but you had never actually told him nor did you ever feel the need too. It was always implied that as friends, you loved and cared about each other.

Eddie always knew he loved you, there was never any question about that but something about you, seeing you with an abuela and how great you were with Christopher (as you always were) just pushed him over the edge.

He had to tell you.

“Y/n, you know I love you- and before you say anything, I know I’ve never actually said it to you but I didn’t feel like I had too, you knew I did.”

“I know.”

“Yeah.”

You were still gathering your thoughts, trying to come up with the words to tell him you loved him too but Eddie’s expression changed. His brows furrowed, eyes studying your face - the worry had set in.

What if you didn’t feel the same way ? God, he’d feel so stupid if he embarrassed himself like that.

The years of friendship were enough for you to realize how he was feeling. You were lacking words and you know what they say, actions speak louder than words.

Your hands reach for his face, now cupping his cheeks. Your lips meet his, he pulls you closer to him- if that's even possible. It was a few moments before you pulled away.

Eddie smiles lovingly at you and you’re sure you have the same expression plastered on your face. “Um- I think that says it.” you hum, smiling at him.

“Doesn't mean you can't say it,” he pokes fun at you, making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Eddie?”

“Y/n,”

“I love you.”

---- 

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @spencersendgame @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21​ @fernandaweasley2​ @yikesyikesyikes95​ @hotchsdarling​ @duhbar1975​ @wowitsel​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @jillys-feral-fandoms​ @alexandrianicolegrey-oc​ @hailsstormthings @averyhotchner​ @captainxholmes​ @mrs-dr-reid​ @aficwhore​

[svenotes]

stay with me | jjk

❝ maybe staying another night at your boyfriend’s isn’t such a bad idea ❞

[ PAIRING ] : jeon jungkook x reader

[ GENRE ] : established relationship au + smut and a smudge of fluff

[ WORD COUNT ] : 6k

[ WARNINGS ] : oral sex, some real good tongue technology on jungkook’s part, fingering, overstimulation, penetrative sex, creampie, LOTS AND LOTS of dirty talk, jk calls oc ‘baby’ and ‘pretty girl’ way too many times, oc worried that her bf is going to get tired of her, some mentions of anxiety, jk is the sweetest bf and even sweeter at sex, there is barely any plot and just a lot of sex im so sorry 

[ AUTHOR’S NOTE ] : i'm on my period and i got horny and then this happened

masterlist | wattpad cross post | ao3 cross post

“No.”

Jungkook shuffles behind you, the bed moaning. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

You shake your head, failing to suppress your smile as you slip on your thong. However, it does little to hide you from him. Glancing at the mirror, you see him shamelessly stare at your ass, licking his lips before he meets your gaze through the glass with a boyish grin.

You turn around to face him. “You’re going to ask me to stay.”

Jungkook hums, eyes dancing across your bare skin, darkening. Heat rushes to your cheeks as he admires you, confidence swelling in your chest and you take a moment to admire him. He sits at the edge of the bed, naked and yours, white, silk sheets pooled around his lower abdomen.

Your eyes trace over his rigid muscles, and your fingers itch to touch him. Even under the dim light, he is beautiful with his dishevelled hair and swollen lips. You finally meet his gaze and swear your knees almost give out. Heat pools in your stomach when you see the hunger in his gaze, breath hitching in your throat. Your thighs press together reflexively and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Wrong.” Jungkook pulls you at you until you're straddling him. He cranes his neck to press butterfly kisses along your jaw. “I was going to ask you to not leave.”

“Baby.” You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging at the strands. “That means the same thing.”

“Don't care,” he hums, pressing a firm kiss against your lips. “Don’t go.”

His plea tugs at the strings of your heart. It’s hard to say deny him. It’s especially hard to deny him with his dick hard, prodding against your thigh and his lips coercing you to stay cocooned under the sheets with him. However, the anxiety that builds in your chest is overwhelming and the thoughts that kept you up the night before still linger.

“Jungkook.”

“Unless you’re telling me you're staying, I don’t want to hear it.”

You giggle, leaning down for a sweet kiss. Minutes pass by before you pull away with a burn in your lungs and clouded mind. He chases after your lips, but you tilt your head for his lips to press against the corner of your lips, to his reluctance.

“Baby,” you start, “I need to go home and get new clothes. I’ve spent the entire weekend here and now I have nothing to wear.”

“I like you naked, anyway.” He grins as you slap his chest, failing to bite back your smile. “You can wear my clothes.”

“I have no underwear left.”

“I have a laundry machine.” He traces every curve of your spine, sending shivers down your back. “You’ll have clean clothes tomorrow.”

You brush the long strands of his hair from of his face. “I could grab some new clothes and come back tomorrow.”

“It’s going to be dark soon,” he reasons, unhooking your bra with two fingers and you cock a brow. “Leave in the morning — after breakfast. Dangerous people come out at night, y’know? I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

“You would’ve won me over with that one if you didn’t unhook my bra,” you remark, pinning him with a look.

“Really? Wait, lemme redo that—!” You let out a heartfelt laugh, throwing your head back and he grins. “Seriously, don't go. I don’t want you walking outside late at night.”

“The sun’s only about to set, I can get home before it gets too dark.”

Jungkook’s brows pinch together, lips curling downwards. “You’re trying so hard to leave. Why?”

Your heart misses a beat and you pray he doesn’t notice the hesitation in your eyes as anxiety swells in your chest. Your worries flood your mind as a reminder as why you must leave.

“You're going to get sick of me if I don't give you some space.”

“I could never get sick of you,” he retorts, holding you closer with a shake of his head. “And I don't need space from you. Wanna keep you in my arms forever.”

Your gaze softens on him and his cheeks are coloured pink. “Kook.”

“I don’t want you to leave — not tonight.” He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat. “Want you to stay with me.”

You indulge in the idea; one more night. You could stay one more night. You could. However, the fear in your chest does not allow for it. You’re scared — worried if he spends every waking moment with you he’ll soon get tired of you. Perhaps it’s a stupid thought considering you’ve been dating for over a year now, but the dread still lingers. No matter how much you reason with it, it haunts your thoughts — keeps you awake in the middle of the night even as he rests in your embrace.

He drags you from your reverie, pressing a kiss against the sweet spot under your ear and you let him have his way for now.

“Don’t go,” he says again in a whisper, pleading with his eyes. “Please. I want you to stay.”

Before you can answer he leans down to press his lips against yours. His lips meld with your own in a fervent kiss, his hand trailing down your body and tracing the curve of your ass, as he presses himself against your core. You roll your hips against him as the kiss becomes more sloppy and desperate with every press of him against you. Waves of pleasure shoot down to your core, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Jungkook,” you moan.

His lips trail down the underside of your jaw, pressing a wet kiss against your pulse. A coil of desire begins to tighten at every nudge of his shaft against your nerves, nails digging into the skin on his back in response.

“Ngh — Jungkook, please,” you urge as presses his hips against yours, applying pressure to your bundle of nerves.

“Please, what, baby,” he hums, smirking against your skin. “Use your words.”

“Touch me. Please, ah,” you moan, throwing your head back against the pillow. “Need you to touch me.”

He throws your unhooked bra to the side. Bringing a hand to wrap around your breast, he squeezes it adoring how soft and pliant you are under his touch. You arch your back as his tongue flicks against your perked nipple.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his warm breath fanning across the pebbled bud on your breast. “Thought you had to go, hm?”

“Jungkook—!”

“I won’t stop until I’m satisfied,” he says, hoarse, searching your eyes for an answer. “I won’t let you go until you’re begging me to stop. Do you want that?” He rolls grinds his cock against your core, groaning. “Won't stop ’til I feel your hot, tight pussy milk me for every last drop. Ah, wanna feel you fall apart on my cock, see you all pretty and full of my cum, hear you beg for more and more until you break.”

You gasp at his vulgar words, the hot, white coil tightening in your stomach. You wish so badly for him to be inside of you when you clench around nothing. His lips wrap around your perked nipple, licking and biting you, eliciting the sweetest of moans from your lips as his tongue swirls around your bud.

Your thread your fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands at the nape of his neck how he likes it. He moans against you as you continue to experimentally roll your hips against him, desperate for some friction — for him.

“Do you want that, too, baby?” He asks, leaving a trail of kisses up the valley between your breasts. “Means you can’t go home though. You’ll miss your train if you let me do the things I want.”

“Are you sure you’re not going to get tired of seeing me every day?”

You try to laugh, but your voice comes out strained and full of worry. It doesn't sound like a joke as you hoped, voice shaking as you ask your question. Your heart thunders in your chest and you wonder if he can hear it.

Jungkook stills, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed and eyes full of confusion.

“You think I’m getting tired of you?”

You look away from his piercing gaze and he doesn’t like it. Taking your face in his hands, he urges you to meet his eyes and you find yourself meeting his concerned gaze.

“Talk to me,” he says, softly.

You take a deep breath, eyes flickering to your hands resting against his chest. Mustering the courage to open up, you meet his gaze again as he patiently waits for your response, a thumb rubbing soothingly against the soft skin of your cheek.

“I—I’m scared that you're going to realize I’m not as great as you think I am,” you begin softly, voice shaking. “I’m worried if you spend too much time with me you'll get sick of me. I’m scared you’re going to get tired of me and leave me.” You pause, noticing the bewildered expression on his face. “I wanted to leave so I could give you space in case you wanted it. I didn’t — I don’t want to suffocate you.”

He’s silent for a long moment and you know it’s because he’s collecting his thoughts. However, a part of you still worries. You worry it's because he realizes he has grown tired of your presence. You worry he realizes that you have too much emotional baggage and doesn’t want to deal with it. You worry because you have a hard time accepting someone’s love.

“I haven’t done a good job at being your boyfriend,” he starts and your eyes widen, “if you’re thinking I’m going to get sick of you.”

“No,” you reply immediately, cupping his face. “It's not you. It’s my insecurities — my anxiety. You’re more than perfect. You say and do all the right things, Kook. I just… I’m scared one day you’re going to get tired of me — tired of constantly reassuring me, sick of having me around all the time and clinging to you.”

You’ve talked to Jungkook about it before. He knows about the thoughts that keep you up at night — the worries that gnaw at you until you’re in tears. He knows and he stays. He tries to help you in every way he possibly can. He holds you when you need it, whispers reassuring words, comforts you no matter when or where. He’s there for you in every possible way because he loves you.

But sometimes your anxiety gets the best of you — especially when it comes to him.

“Baby,” he starts and it’s hard to meet his eyes, “I will never get tired of you. I will never get sick of you.”

“You don’t know that—!”

He cuts you off, “But I do. I know because I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I ever will. Every moment you’re not with me all I want is you. All I can ever think about is you. You drive me crazy and you don’t even know it. All I ever want is you beside me, in my arms, in my house with me. I always want you right beside me — right where you belong.” A pause. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you, too.” Your response is almost immediate and he smiles, leaning to press a soft kiss against your lips.

“Do you know how much I love your laugh?” You’re silent. “Do you know how much I love making you smile; how much I love waking up beside you and falling asleep with you in my arms. How much I adore your victory dances when you win games and your snoring—!”

“Hey!” You complain, but there’s a smile curling on your lips to match his.

“I love you so much — every single part of you — I couldn’t possibly ever get sick you. I love you so much I don't ever want to let you go.”

Hesitantly, you look at him and let the sincerity of his words sink in. His eyes are full of adoration for you and your heart is enveloped by a sudden warmth only he can elicit in you. Lifting your hand between your bodies and extend your pink finger to him.

“Promise?”

He doesn't hesitate to wrap his small finger around yours before sealing the promise with a sweet kiss. “Promise.”

“Okay,” you say, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I wasn’t being too clingy this weekend? I wasn’t bothering you or being annoish—!”

“I’m going to stop you before you say more things I don’t like.” He smothers your face in his hands, eyes narrowed. “Remember, I wanted you here this weekend, too. And I want you to spend another night because I love you and I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.”

“Okay,” you murmur, shyly. “I’ll stay the night.”

“Good. I want my pretty girl beside me,” he chuckles under his breath, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. You notice his eyes grow softer, an emotion you cannot decipher hidden behind the awestruck in his eyes that leaves butterflies in its wake. “Move in with me.”

You blink. “What?”

“I—!" His eyes are wide as if he didn’t expect himself to say the word himself. His eyes flicker downwards before they meet yours again with purpose. “I want you to move in with me.” A deep breath. “My apartments too big for just one person and I miss you whenever you’re gone. You spend more time here than you do at your own place anyway. Move in with me.”

You search eyes and all you're met with is sincerity. “Are you sure?”

“Yea,” his smile is soft but it makes your heart swell. “Yea, I'm sure. I’m tired of waking up every morning and not having you beside me.”

“Moving in?” You ask, uncertainly.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but I wasn’t sure if you were ready. And you don’t have to give me an answer tonight or tomorrow. I want you to think about it and if you’re not ready, that’s okay because I’ll wait for you. You’re worth the wait.”

“Kook—!"

“I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you, ___.” Your eyes widen at the declaration and his cheeks are coloured pink despite the bright smile on his lips. “I know we’re not there yet, but I want you every single day for the rest of my life. So while I wait for you to be my wife, I want to move in with you.”

Jungkook momentarily stills before he realizes the soft pressure against his lips is your own, smiling into the kiss as he closes his eyes. He kisses you tenderly and sweet, but there is desperation behind them. You’ve kissed Jungkook thousands of times but he still makes your head dizzy as he slips his tongue between the seams of your lips. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, your fingers tangled in his hair and his own pulling you closer towards him.

He pulls back first, a string of saliva connecting you before he places another firm kiss against your lips. “Was that a yes?”

“Yea,” you breathe, grinning. “Yea, it was.”

He flips you onto the bed with practiced ease, your back hitting the mattress as he hovers over you. You giggle as he places butterfly kisses all over your neck and shoulder.

“I love you so much,” he breathes, face hidden in the crook of your neck. “My pretty, pretty girl.”

“Jungkook.”

“Yes.”

“I want to cum.”

He laughs, pulling away. “Shameless, too.”

He leaves a trail of kisses down your body until he’s a hair's breadth from your cunt. His fingers brush against your closed slit, arousal leaking through the flimsy material as he presses against your core. Your breathing becomes erratic when he presses a kiss against your clothed lips.

“Baby — fuck.” Your eyes roll back as he drags his tongue to your clit, the friction from the fabric on your nerves driving you crazy. “St-stop, agh, teasing.”

“You’re not in the position to make rules, baby,” he says, rubbing against your clothed clit. “I’m going to take my time with you — have you begging for me to taste your cunt. And when you do, I’ll use my tongue to lick every little drop of sweetness from your pussy. Make you come on my mouth over and over until you’re begging me to stop.”

You whine, “Please.”

He teases you, moving your underwear aside just enough to lick a long stripe from your pussy to your clit. Groaning, he meets your eyes as your underwear slides back in place.

“You taste so good, baby,” he purrs, pressing a kiss against your thigh. “And you're so fucking wet. Bet I could slide right into you.” His fingers are back on you, brushing against your clit but not enough to do anything. “You want me, baby?”

Your arch your back in response to his next ministration. “Yes.”

His touch is gone just like that and you whine, brows furrowed in frustration. He snaps the waistband of your thong against your skin with a smirk.

“Beg.”

“Jungkook—!”

You’re about to complain, but he cuts you off. “Beg or I’ll fuck myself using that pretty mouth and leave you dry. Tell me, baby, how bad do you want me?”

“Please, baby, I need you.” Your hooded eyes meet his heated gaze. “Need your fingers, mouth, cock — you. I need you so bad. Wanna feel you so bad, please.”

“Could be better,” he muses before he presses a kiss against your clothed core. “But I’m impatient.” He taps your hips. “Up.”

Helping you out of your underwear, he brings his face towards your core, blowing against your opening. His nose brushes against your thigh as he places another kiss against the soft skin, hooking your legs over his shoulder.

“You’re soaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

You hum, contentedly when his tongue brushes against your slit. “All for you.”

“My pretty girl,” he rasps, nose brushing against clit. “So wet and needy for me.”

Before you can complain again you feel his hot, wet tongue press harshly against your lips before he drags it up to your clit. He swirls the rosy muscle on your clit, teasingly until your moaning and breathless. Without warning, his lips envelop around your throbbing bud, sucking in full force you scream his name as your hips buck. Warm hands hold your waist down as he hums, tongue licking against your entrance again. For a moment he dips inside you, moaning at the taste of your sweetness before going back to suck at your clit the way you love it and you see stars behind your lids.

He repeats the motion over and over, swirling his warm tongue around your swollen bud and sucking it in a way that has you forgetting your own name. Against your slick lips, he whispers praises, before he slips two fingers into your warm cavern and curling his fingers inside you.

“O-oh, fuck—!” you gasp, fingers tangled in his hair. “Don — mmngh — don’t stop, ngh.”

“Gotchu,” he grins when he finds your sweet spot. “Does it feel good, baby?”

“S-so good.” Your nails scrape against his scalp and he emits a low groan. “So fucking good, fuck.”

His fingers continue their onslaught at a new pace, brushing roughly against the spot that leaves you breathless. His lips are back on your clit like a hot suction and you scream out from the overwhelming pleasure.

“So fucking tight,” he muses, pressing a kiss against your bud. “Your pretty cunt's taking my fingers so well, baby. You sound so pretty while I fuck you with my fingers, but you sound prettier when you cum, you know that?”

Your head is spinning from euphoria, ecstasy and the lack of oxygen, but it doesn't matter — not when he's bringing you closer and closer to your release.

“Mngh — J-Jungkook!” He sets a new violent pace that leaves you overwhelmed as he hits your sweet spot. His name falling out your lips like a broken record while he licks at your juices, groaning against your cunt when you fist his hair and pull him closer to you. An electrifying coil in your lower abdomen tightens, building further when his ministrations bring you closer and closer to your peak. You clench around his fingers, bucking your hips further into his hand, whimpering as you say, “God, yes — ngh, fuck. I’m so close.”

“Cum for me.”

Euphoric pleasure slowly, yet surely floods through your body, his lips enveloped around your sensitive bud as he curls his fingers against your soft spot. With one last flick of his tongue, you fall off the euphoric cliff as he laps at your juices. He presses harsh, but sure circles against your clit with his thumb as you ride out your orgasm. Your hip spams, thighs trembling as he coaxes you through an indescribable, mind-blowing release that leaves your vision white.

His lips don’t leave your nether regions, wincing at the oversensitivity. You tug at his strands of hair but he shakes his head.

“Not done with you yet,” he whispers, licking the fruits of his efforts once his fingers slip out of your dripping cunt. “Wanna have you crying my name. Wanna show you how much I love you. Will you let me?”

You lift your head from the pillow, leaning on your elbows as you sit up. He holds your stare, smirking before he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit to your sensitive bud and you shudder. His grip on your thighs tightens to keep you in place before he lowers his head between your thighs, the hot suction back on your clit.

“Agh, Kookie.” You throw your head back, chest heaving. “I’m too—” Gasp. “—sensitive.”

“You can take it.” A kiss against your nether lips. “Wanna show you how much I want you — how much I love the taste of you. I’m not letting you go until you’re begging me to stop. You up for that? Want me to remind you how good I can make you feel?” He dips his tongue back in you and you hiss. “Can you be my pretty, little slut, baby, hm? You wanna make me happy, don’t you?”

“Y-yea.”

You feel him smile against your thigh. “Who does this pretty pussy belong to?”

“You.”

“That’s right.” A rewarding stroke his tongue. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. This pussy is mine. Will you let me play with this pretty cunt, baby?”

He watches you with hunger in his eyes and the desire to have him use you as he pleases to seek his own pleasure overcomes you.

He brushes his tongue against your swollen nub, and you gasp, “Yes.”

“Pretty girl,” he hums and you’re immediately wrapped around his finger. “Do you want to be my perfect little slut?” You nod, meeting his heated gaze, a wolfish grin curling on his lips. “You're too good to me, you know that, baby?” He teases his tongue around your entrance, eliciting a whine from you. “My pretty girl.” Lips wrap around your clit and you scream, body falling limp against his sheets. “My perfect, little slut.”

And with that his tongue is on you, violently bringing you to another release. You are oxygen and he is a man deprived, burying himself deeper in your cunt. A growl emits from the back of his throat as you thread your fingers through his hair, your winces from oversensitivity shifting to moans of pleasure. He finds home between your thighs, reluctant to leave as he licks at every drop of sweetness you grant him. Jungkook brings you to release over and over until your tears stream down your face and you find it hard to take the pressure of his tongue against your overly-sensitive nerves.

With one last wave of pleasure washing over you, he pulls away. His cheeks are coated with a warm fuchsia, lips parted as he looks at your cunt with a predatory gaze. From his nose to his chin, he is covered in a sheen of your juices, eyes blown out as they meet your own.

He adores your fucked out expression, your chest heaving while you catch your breath. His tongue swipes at the remnants of your release on his swollen lips, the back of his hand wiping the excess off his chin before he leans down to catch you in a short kiss. When he pulls away, his eyes search yours for any sign that you want to stop, but he finds nothing.

“You did so well, baby,” he whispers against your lips. “How are you feeling?”

“You told me you would make me pretty and full of your cum.” His gaze hardens on you, dark eyes trained on your own. “‘M not full of your cum yet. Can you fix that?”

“Such a greedy slut.” A smile grows on his lips as he leans down to your neck, nipping at the skin. “I made you come on my mouth so many times, but you still want more. Greedy, needy slut.”

“For you.” You wrap your legs around his waist as you grind yourself against his dick. “Only for you.”

He groans, hips rolling in rhythm with yours. “You like being my slut?”

“I like being yours.”

He stills for all of a second before he breaks out into a grin, laughing as he presses a kiss against your lips. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pulls his lips back on yours. As he leans towards you, his shaft presses against your folds. You’re barely able to focus on the kissing as you lose yourself in the overwhelming sensation as he grinds against you, coating his length with your juices.

A knot forms in your lower abdomen like a hot, tight coil wanting to snap. You can already feel yourself get needy at the feeling of his length against your folds, but before you can act upon it—!

“Tsk.” Jungkook clicks his tongue against his teeth as he catches you trying to slip his cock past your folds. “You want my cock?”

“Mhm,” you hum in a daze, eyes lazily meeting his. “Want you inside me.”

“It’s not going to be that easy, baby.” You furrow your eyes at that, mouth opening in protest. “Beg for it. Tell me how badly you want to be fucked by my cock.”

You frown. “That’s not happening—!”

There’s a teasing pressure against your pussy that makes you gasp, eyes rolling back as your mouth hangs open. A soft whimper escapes from you as he adjusts his cock to rub against you, mixing his pre-cum with your juices.

“What was that?” He asks, smirking and you glare at him through your lashes. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. I can give you everything you want if you just—” he leans down until his lips brush against your ear, his finger grazing over your sensitive clit and you hiss, pushing your hips against his hands for more, “—beg.”

Again, you ignore his request but more so because he aligns his cock to prod against your cunt and you cannot focus on anything but your need to have him buried in you. You can feel the sudden weight in the pit of your stomach as you lick your lips.

“So hungry for my cock,” he grunts. “You want something to fill you up so good you forget your name, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you cry at the lack of attention on your sex. “Please.”

“Please what?” He asks, lips curling because he knows he has you exactly where he wants. “Words.”

“Please fuck me,” you give in, frustrated as your walls clench around nothing. You’re hungry for more — body craving more of what he’s willing to offer; of the undeniable pleasure he would provide if you just gave in. “God, I want your cock — need it. Need you to fill me up, need you to fuck me — nngh!” You moan, body going rigid against his as his head rubs against your swollen bud, fingers tweaking at your perked nipples. “Want you so bad, baby. Wanna be your perfect, little slut so bad. Have me however you want, I don’t care — do whatever you want to me. I don’t fucking care.” You grind yourself against him, chest heaving as the desire for him to fill you up becomes desperate. “Just fuck me, baby, please.”

“That’s my girl.” He rewards you with a kiss. “I’ll fuck you, baby. I’ll fill you up with my cock. Gonna bury my cock deep inside your slick cunt. Gonna stretch out your walls so good no other cock will be good enough for you — no other cock could ever fill you up like mine. No one will fuck you better than me.”

“That’s right, baby,” you urge. “Make me yours.”

Painfully, slow he slips his cock into your warm cunt, groaning. He’s big, in both length and grith, causing a slight burn accompanied by an abundance of pleasure. Moans fill the room as he fills you up to the brim, inch by inch until he no longer can. Your hot, slick walls clench around him and he groans, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

“Stop that,” he growls, brows furrowed in concentration. “You’re so fucking tight, ah. If keep you do that I’m going to fucking blow my load.”

“Do your worst, baby,” you say, eyes hazy. “I want you to ruin me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, unsheathing himself from your cunt until the tip is nestled an inch within your entrance and then slams himself back into you. A lewd moan erupts from both of you as the stars decorate your vision. You arch your back, pressing your chest against his, eyes rolling back every time he sinks back into you. With each thrust and roll of your hips, he rubs himself against the spot that leaves ecstasy rushing through your veins.

“You’re so, agh, hot like this.” You can feel the pressure build in your stomach, the coil tightening with every brush of him against your sweet spot. “So hungry for my cock.”

“Feel so good in me,” you moan, watching as his dick slips in and out of your cunt. “Fill me up, ah, so good. Fuck, take what’s yours, baby.”

He visibly shudders at that before latching his lips on your perked nipple. His tongue laps around the perked bud on your breast, spare hand coming to knead the other before he swaps breasts.

You groan, dragging your nails down his back, sure to leave a mark. “Oh, fuck.”

Your eyes roll back as the head of his cock brushes roughly against the spot that has you seeing stars. He has your toes curling, his name coming out like a mantra as he ravishes your body, moaning into your neck. A knot of pleasure tightens, burning like a hot coil and he knows with the way you pulse around his dick that you’re so, very close.

You can taste the bits of your orgasm on the tip of your tongue, but it’s still not enough. You need so much more and he hears it in your pleas.

“Puh—please,” you breathe as you feel him press his lips against your pulse. “Hard—oh, my God.” You barely get the words out of your mouth before he’s ploughing into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. “Ngh, like that, fuck. S-so good, baby. Feels so good.”

“Yeah,” he groans, biting your neck. “So good to me, fuck. Such a good fucking girl.” At that, you squeeze around him and he lets out another lewd moan. “You gonna cum?”

All you manage is a nod and a sharp breath of air. His hand slithers down your body to find your clit and he presses against it harshly, eliciting a hiss from you. It’s oversensitive from the multiple times he made you cum on his tongue, but he doesn’t care because he knows you love it. He’s quick to rub circles around the bud and smirks to himself at your vocal response.

“Don’t — ah — stop.” You feel the coil burn more, pleasure building in your body like rapid fire. So fucking close to your next release, even as the sensitive bud stings. “Gonna — ah — gonna cum.”

His lips are eager for yours, pressing against them in a searing, hot kiss as he tries to coax the orgasm from you with his sinful lips. You can taste yourself on him and hum. His release threatens to unravel before him, but he fights against it so he can feel you wrap around his cock when you cum. He lifts himself off you to admire the blissful look on your face as you slowly become undone before him.

“Pretty girl — ngh,” he whispers, hot breath fanning over your cheeks and you whimper. “All mine. Come — ah — for me, hm? Come all over my cock, baby.”

Sweat drips down both your bodies, your walls clenching around him as he fucks you hard. Every thrust leaves his head nudging against your sweet spot, clouding your vision white. A fire builds within you again, leaving you to gasp for air between every moan.

“Kook, I — ah, I can’t come—” Moan. “I can’t come again.”

Softly rubbing against your clit, he presses a chaste kiss on your lips. “You can take it. You’ve been such a good slut for me, tonight, baby. You can do it. Come around my cock for me.”

And with his words and one last thrust, the burning coil snaps, pleasure rushing through your body in euphoric waves. Your veins flood with ecstasy and he soon follows, his seed coating your walls. Overwhelming pleasure unravels within you both like a wildfire, spreading across your bodies as he continues his pace to ride out your highs. His lips find yours once again, pressing a lazy kiss against yours as you both ride out the last remnants of your orgasms.

Once he’s caught his breath, he slowly slips out of you, lifting himself to admire the way his seed spills out of your pretty cunt. You feel his cum spill out your cunt, down your thighs and onto the sheets beneath you.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he says aloud and your lips curl into a tired smile. “So dirty and full of my cum.”

He leaves the bed, heading towards the washroom to grab a warm cloth and you lay there, tired. Exhaustion seeps itself into your bones, lids heavy as they flutter shut. You don’t hear Jungkook return, but rather feel him when a warm cloth brushes against your swollen pussy, cleaning you up. He’s swift to clean you up the best he could before attending to himself and putting the rag away. Maneuvering over you, he brings the blanket over your bodies, nudging you to lay beside him.

“You were so good, baby,” he whispers as he pulls you closer towards him. “Always so good for me.”

“Mhm.”

He chuckles. “Are you tired?”

“Yea.” You nuzzle against his chest finding comfort in listening to his heartbeat. “I honestly could’ve knocked out after that first orgasm.”

He laughs, pressing a sweet kiss against your forehead. “Sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

“We do?” You furrow your brows. “Why? What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m gonna help you pack your boxes so you can move in by the end of the week.” You laugh along with him, throwing a leg over his own as you get comfortable. “Are you sure? You really ready to move in?”

Unable to hide your smile, you press a chaste kiss to his chest. “Yea, I’m sure.”

"You’ll be stuck with me for a long time,” he hums, exhaustion washing over him. “I won’t be letting you go for a while.”

"You better not.” Your smile quickly turns to a frown when you finally notice. “Jungkook?”

“Yea.”

“I'm hungry.”

all rights reserved © 2020 svenotes

[theunquenchablethirst]

Joyride (Jerome X Reader)

Smut, NSFW, 18+, porn without plot, honestly just hot, nasty filth 

Do not read unless you are a deviant!

Reader is walking home down a street she knows just like the back of her hand, but today there's an unfamiliar car parked up. Paying it no mind she continues past it, but soon discovers today is not going to be any regular day when a sinister voice calls to her from the mysterious car behind her.

Vaginal fingering, blowjobs, rough sex, semi-public sex, car sex, bondage, chocking, spanking, dom/sub undertones, dub-con, strong language, murder, kidnap

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Masterlist

I walked that street nearly every day, to and from Gotham High. I had for years. This would be my last year as I was 18 and about to graduate.

Everything seemed as normal as ever. The pretzel cart, the lady that walked her little dog, the kids playing jump rope. A fairly quiet street. I didn't know it then, but that day would be anything, but normal.

I was approaching the end of the street where I would cross the road. There was a car parked up I hadn't seen before. Big, black with tinted windows. I didn't pay it much attention and wasn't hesitant to carry on my walk past it. I reached the end of the street and stood waiting for the traffic to quiet so I could cross over, then behind me I heard the familiar sound of a car window winding down.

"Hey, princess." A sinister voice called.

I turned to look and peering out of the black car window was him. The most dangerous, most wanted man in Gotham city. Jerome Valeska.

I'd only seen him on the news and in papers before, but even then, he had scared me. He'd brought the city to its knees and left a trail of bodies and madness wherever he went. And now he was right in front of me.  

"Can I give you a ride?" He asked with his signature smile plastered on his scarred face, voice dripping with menace.

I froze still. I wanted to run as fast as I could, but his stare glued me to my spot.

"Come on, doll. I'll be nice."

I took a step back, weighing the risk of making a run for it. He sucked his teeth and looked down for something.

"I'd offer you candy, but uh..." He pulled a gun up to the window and pointed it at me.

"... Something tells me I won't need to." His smile somehow grew bigger as he locked his eyes on mine.

My heart was beating so loud I thought the whole city would be able to hear it. I had no choice. Knees weak, I nervously walked around to the passenger side door and opened it. I sat in the seat next to him, but pressed myself as close to the window as I could. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, even if it was only by a few inches.  

"Ah, safety first. Seatbelt." He said dropping his smile and cocking his head.

Not caring weather or not he was joking, I pulled down the belt and buckled myself in. I did not want to make him angry. He grinned eerily and panic rose in my chest as his eyes burned holes in me.  

He reached a gloved hand out to my face. I flinched as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear and stroked his knuckles down my jaw line and neck. His hand moved lower still down my arm, only stopping when he got to my shaking hand. I was grasping my bag so tightly my knuckles had turned white. He tugged at it a few times wanting me to let go. I released the bag and he pulled it off my lap and into his.

"Let's see what we got here."

He started to rummage through my possessions pulling each one out, mostly dubbing them boring and dumping them out of the window.

"Pain killers, boring. Pencil case, extra boring. Ooh, Jolly Ranchers! Don't mind if I do!"

He popped a sweet in his mouth, threw the rest over his shoulder into the back seat and got back to snooping.

"Keys, boring. Oh! A diary! I'll save that for later! A can of mace...."

He paused then let out a loud cackle as he held the mace.

"Oh, princess! Bet you wish you'd switched this out for a gun right about now!" He continued to giggle as he dived a hand back in.

"Aha! Phone!" He dropped my bag back in my lap and opened up my flip phone.

"You won't be needing this." He smirked and snapped it, letting the two halves fall and disappear under the driver's seat. Dread began to settle in as it dawned upon me that I now had no way to call for help and my mace was lying in the street. Not that it would've been much use against him anyway.

"Ok! Let's get this party started!" His giggled as he turned the key in the ignition. He turned towards me and revved the engine.

"Vroom, vroom." He mocked.

I sat there clutching my bag, waiting for the car to start moving. He fiddled with the gear stick and then slammed his foot down on the pedal as if there was a deadly bug that needed to be squashed. The tyres screeched like they were taking a layer of tarmac with them and he took off like a boy racer.  

I let out a scream as the sudden, fast pace sent a shockwave right through me. I sent my hands searching for something, anything to hold on to. There was a turn coming up, but I noticed it too late and I was flung into the side of the door like a ragdoll. All the time the loudest noise in my ear was maniacal laughter coming from Jerome in driver's seat. He was driving like he stole it, but then again, it was entirely possible he did.

"More?" He looked at me with a mischievously.

I shook my head, breathlessly, praying to any god that was listening that he actually cared about my answer.

"I think more." He sharply turned into an empty car park and spun around and around and around. I was pressed right up against him as I clung to the bottom of my seat. He laughed and banged his hand on the wheel, continuing to spin us around.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" I screamed forgetting myself.  

"Oh, I love 'em with fire!" He laughed again.  

Then all of a sudden, he stopped. I jolted forwards like a crash dummy so hard I thought I would hit the windshield. He'd been right about the seatbelt. I stared straight ahead and tried to catch my breath, when I heard angry shouting. An employee of the restaurant that owned the car park was making his way over to us with a red face.

Jerome stuck his head out of the window.

"What's that, pal?"  

I heard more shouting.

"Ok." Jerome reached for the gun and shot the employee straight in the head. I gasped at the sound and he fell down like a sack of bricks.

"Problem solved." Jerome grinned and pocketed the gun.

I felt my stomach turn. I'd just seen a murder right in front of me. That poor man. Jerome started the car again and left the car park, where he'd left a dead body and certainly tyre tracks.

"Some fun, eh kid?" He smiled at me. I couldn't find any words to reply. He sighed.

"I hate awkward silences." He reached down and turned on the radio. He flicked through a few channels until he found one playing music he seemed to like. An old rock station.

"Now this is better!" He looked at me with a satisfied smile, but dropped it when I still didn't reply.

"How do I get you to talk? Do I gotta drop a quarter in ya?" He turned another corner onto a straight, quiet road.

"I know." He smirked with a menacing look in his eyes.  

He pushed the pedal down, once again picking up speed. He was driving like there was money on it, but I'd at least managed to brace myself this time. He slowed a little as he got in place to drive side by side with the only other car on the road. He chuckled darkly to himself and then I realized why. Fear took my senses when I saw in the not too far distance, heading straight at us was a giant truck. The driver in the car next to us began to honk the horn and flash obscene hand gestures as the truck grew closer, but Jerome simply turned the radio up and began singing along with the words.

"Jerome..." I said tugging at his arm.

Nothing. And the truck was now honking at us to move.  

"Jerome!"  

The truck was too close for comfort. The sense that I was about to be flattened because of the idiot at the wheel filled my body.

"Jerome, move the damn car!" I shook his arm fiercely and slammed my fists in my chair.

He finally burst out cackling maniacally with an outrageous smile.

He slammed down the pedal and pulled forward in front of the car beside us, missing the truck by a hair. He laughed and howled like it was the funniest thing he'd ever experienced, whilst I sighed the biggest sigh of my life and slid low down my seat. He pulled over and parked.

"Nothing like a little near-death experience to get the blood flowing, eh doll?"  

I had melted into my seat and wasn't really paying attention.

"So, how'd you like me so far?"

"Is that a serious question?" I replied breathlessly. I didn't know where I got the confidence for it, but the words were coming out.

He just giggled.

"Ok, how about I behave... For a while."

"How about you let me go?"

He lifted a long finger at me.

"Tut tut, doll face. Don't make me wiggle my finger at you."

I shuffled backwards in my seat, propping myself upright again.

"So, you know my name? Are you stalking me?" He put his hand on his chest in mock fear.

"Everyone in Gotham knows your name. You're Jerome Valeska. You've terrorised the city and murdered dozens of people. The Gotham Gazette makes sure we don't miss these things."  

"The Gotham Gazette, huh? Note to self, send a gift basket their way." He chuckled to himself then looked at me.

“So, what’s yours?”

I told him my name. I was reluctant, but I was already here in the car with him.

“Hm, cute.” He replied.

I didn’t know why, but him calling me cute made me blush a little. I hoped he didn’t notice.

“You look fun.” He smiled.

“What do you mean?” I asked the question, but I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know the answer.

He pulled my diary out of the door pocket.

“Let’s get to know you, shall we?”  

“That’s private.” I said sheepishly. I really didn’t want him reading what was in there, but I knew I couldn’t stop him.

“Not anymore.” Jerome flicked through the pages, skimming them for interesting thoughts and secrets. It didn’t look like he was finding anything juicy, until he stopped at one page and read it in its entirety.

“I got asked out by a guy in my maths class. He’s nice, but really boring. Just like everyone else in my life. Even if I wanted to go out with him, my dad wouldn’t allow it. He says men are the devil and the only one I can trust is him. Yeah right, Mr it’s 5’oclock somewhere. Even if I took that seriously, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. The only guys in my life are complete clichés. So very predictable, so very dull. I’m so bored of this same old-same old. I want something exciting, an adventure. I need some thrills in this beige goddamn existence!”

He repeated back to me the words I had written just a week prior. He turned to me with a predatory look in his eyes. He let the diary fall from his hands carelessly and I knew then that I would be his prey. He took his gloves off and reached a hand towards my knee. He stroked and squeezed my leg and then journeyed up higher, fingers crawling underneath the hem of my skirt.

“Be careful what you wish for, doll face.” He smirked, darkly.

My breath caught in my chest and I felt a warmth in my core.

"I thought you said you were gonna behave." I peeped.

"I did, didn't I? I guess I lied."  

He pulled my skirt up and ran a finger along my panty covered slit. He was turning me on. I wanted him. He was everything I had been looking for, but it was wrong. I couldn’t give in to this.

"Please... Stop..." I pleaded pathetically.

"Mmm, I don't think I will."  

He softly rubbed my folds through the white cotton. My breath got heavier and I felt the heath build.

"It would be so easy for me to push these little things out of the way and slide my fingers inside you, right now. Wouldn't it?"

"Please... Don't..."

He giggled darkly.

"Oh, princess. You're just too cute."  

He smiled as he moved the material to the side exposing my entrance. He slid his fingers up and down my slit, my juices covering the tips. I squirmed at his touch and tried to scooch back in my seat.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, doll, but you wouldn't be this wet if you didn't really want me inside you." He cooed. His words crashed into me like rocks. He could read my body just as well as my diary. I couldn't hide my desire from him and I didn’t want too.  

He continued to rub for a few more seconds before plunging a finger deep inside me. I let out a gasp at the sudden intrusion and he smirked, seemingly satisfied with my response. He worked me with his finger, pulling out before sliding it back in and deciding to add another. He slowly pulsed his fingers inside me, palming over my clit as he slid in and out, again and again. The swell of warmth in me grew as I rocked my hips.

He pulled his fingers out entirely, leaving me disappointed and empty. I looked at him as he examined the juices coating him. He smiled at me and raised them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

"Mmm. You're so sweet." He said as he lowered them, his voice now deeper and slightly raspy.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, then did mine. He pushed the bag off my lap down to where my feet were and reached his arm around my waist, pulling me backwards, closer to him. He leaned me against him as one hand travelled up from my waist and wrapped around my throat. His other came down, pulled up my skirt and parted my thighs. He pushed my panties to the side once again and introduced his other hand to my wetness. His two fingers sliding in and out, but this time a little faster and much deeper. I let a yelp escape my mouth and his hand squeezed harder around my throat. His hot breath in the crook of my neck gave me goosebumps and sent chills down my spine.  

He explored my walls entirely, hitting all the right spots, hot pleasure pulsing through my muscles as they clenched around his talented digits. He palmed my clit applying a gentle amount of pressure and rubbing in circles. I bit my lip in an attempt muffle my moans.

"Nuh uh. Let me hear you, baby girl." He taunted in my ear.

Two fingers from the hand around my throat pulled my mouth open and played with my tongue.  

"You got something to say, princess?" He pushed his fingers deeper into me until his knuckles stopped him from going any further and pumped them, his thumb circling my clit in sweet slow motions. A loud moan escaped my throat and he smiled evilly.

"That's better." He snarled as he put his full hand back around my throat.  

My legs started to stiffen and I felt my climax build as I tightened around his fingers.

"You wanna cum, baby?"  

He worked his fingers inside my walls and his thumb on my clit, slightly increasing the pressure. His breath came closer to my ear and I felt him take it gently in his teeth. I yelped at the shock of his bite.  

"Mm. So cute."

I rocked my hips against his hand. My release was close, it just needed a little push.

"Cum for me, princess. Cum on my fingers."

As if on his command, the dam burst and my climax washed over me. My legs shook and I moaned as I rode it out. He pulled his fingers out of me slid them in my mouth so I could taste my own juices.

“See, gorgeous. I can play nice.” He buried his face in my hair and took in my scent. He hummed to himself and I felt his grip on my throat tighten. He pulled me forwards and pushed me towards the back seat.

“My turn.” He grinned as he sat up.

I climbed into the back, closely followed by Jerome. I sat down and he straddled me, towering over me with his red hair brushing against the car ceiling. I saw the outline of his hard member pushing against the inside of his trousers. It was right in front of my face and my mouth watered for it. I suppose he caught me looking because he started to palm himself and lifted my chin up so I was looking at him.

“Do you have something sweet for me?” He leaned down closer to me, his grip on my face tightening.

I swallowed and felt the lump in my throat. He crashed his lips onto mine. The kiss was hard and forceful, just like he was. His tongue pushed into my mouth and fought for dominance over mine. It was an easy win for him. He tasted sweet, like the Jolly Ranchers. I assumed that wasn’t the first candy he’d eaten that day. He pulled away from me and smiled, studying my face with hooded eyes.

“Yummy.” He whispered.  

He rose back up and unbuckled his belt. He pulled it from out of its loops, held it in front of him and snapped it quickly. I flinched at the loud sound of the leather.

“Hands.” He ordered in a serious, intimidating tone that aroused me all the more.

I held my hands up to him and he looped the belt in and around my wrists, tightly bonding them together.

“No hands for this. I wanna see how that pretty little mouth works.” He smirked lifting my chin again, tugging my bottom lip with his thumb.

He palmed himself a little more and then unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, letting them fall around his knees. I could see through his boxers that he was fully erect already. He slid them down and they joined his trousers. Jerome was big. I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to take it all, especially without the use of my hands. He balled my hair in his hand and gripped hard. I gasped at the sudden pain.

“Come on, princess. You know what to do.” He pulled me forwards and plunged into my open mouth. He let out a hiss of pleasure.

He raked his free hand through my loose hair before clenching it in his fist. He used his grip on my head to move me up and down his shaft, prompting me to start. I swirled my tongue around him and started sucking. He hissed again through gritted teeth and pushed in further. My tongue climbed up and down his shaft, licking the sticky coating of precum from him and teasing the head. I hollowed my cheeks and bobbed up and down, letting my saliva cover him.

“Oh, yeah... Fuck, pretty girl.” He groaned in his throat and bucked his hips forwards with force.

He hit the back of my throat and I gagged. The noise seemed to please him so he did it again and again and again. My lips touched his base as he assaulted my throat, gripping tighter on my hair with each thrust. I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face and eyes begging for breath, but it just pushed him further.

He let out a primal growl and pushed my head right into the back of the seat. He held me steady and started to thrust into my face fast and hard. My throat was aching and my jaw was locking. His breath was shallow and erratic. I could tell he was close. I sucked harder for him and my throat clenched tightly.  

“Fuuuuck...” He groaned finally coming to a stop.  

I felt him throb and twitch in my mouth as his climax shot straight down my throat for me to swallow. He was still for a few seconds, then he pulled out with a pleasing pop. He looked down at me catching his breath with a smile.

“Don’t have to tell you twice, huh?” He laughed and lowered his head to kiss me.

He didn’t seem to care he’d just cum in my mouth and kissed just as rough as the first time. This time biting my lip as he pulled away. He slid his hand back up into my hair and balled it again.

“As great as that was princess, I’m still harder than Chinese algebra. So...” Jerome climbed off my lap and shoved me down onto my front.

“All fours.” He commanded.

I positioned myself on my knees and elbows, which was difficult considering my wrists were tied. I felt him roll my skirt up and part my legs. I swallowed. After having him go so rough on my mouth, I was nervous about how he was going to be with this.

“I gotta say, this is some view back here. Shame I don’t have a camera.” He said caressing my thighs.

He hooked his fingers under the band of my underwear and slid them down around my knees. I felt so exposed and my face started to heat up and turn red with embarrassment. I couldn’t believe I was allowing myself to be this vulnerable for a criminal lunatic.

He started to rub my entrance with two fingers. Warmth welling in my core, any thoughts of reservation vanished from my mind. I felt a fast, harsh sting as he brought a hand down to spank me. I gasped at the smack and he stroked the spot where it landed, where there was sure to be a red handprint.  

“Now I really wish I had a camera.” He giggled darkly.  

I squirmed at his touch and tried to close my thighs, desperate for friction, but he kept them spread by sliding his knee between them.

“Oh no, gorgeous. I need you open wide.” He smirked.

I whimpered needily, wanting nothing more than to take him inside me.

“You want something, baby girl? Speak up.” He taunted evilly, sliding his fingers along my slit. He raised his hand back up and then... another spank.

All I could do was whimper. I didn’t want to say what I wanted from him.

“I can’t hear you....” He sing-songed. “What do you want?”  

He circled a finger over my clit teasingly. He was purposefully not giving me enough. Just baiting me. He brought his hand down again for another swift spank. I was sure there was a bruise forming.

“I want you...” I whispered.

“What’s that?” He mocked, sliding his fingers in the slickness of my entrance.

“I want you! I want you to fuck me!” I snapped. I couldn’t take the teasing and taunting any longer. I just needed him.

He chuckled menacingly.

“You want me to fuck you? You wanna take me?”

“Yes! Yes! God, yes!”

He laughed at my neediness. I felt pathetic.

“Sure thing, doll.”

He lined himself up so he could enter me and pushed forwards, grasping hard onto my hips. I moaned loudly as he filled me for the first time, making a low, throaty groan. He reached deep into me and set me on fire in places that I didn't even know were there.  

He kept a quick rough pace, digging his fingertips into my flesh tighter to keep me still and steady. I knew he was leaving marks, but I couldn’t have cared in the slightest in that moment. His thrusts made me whine and whimper for him, to have more of him. He growled like he was letting out some kind of inner beast.

He let go of one of my hips and slid his hand up my back and into my hair. Once he had a good fistful, he pulled it like a leash, tugging my head up and back. I gasped at the sharp pain, but the sound only seemed to feed more into his sadistic wanting and he pounded harder into me. The feel of how deep he was inside me banished all the pain and replaced it with pure pleasure and I bit down hard on my lip to stifle wanton cries. I felt another rough tug on my hair.

“Don’t you dare, little girl. Let me hear it. I wanna hear everything.” He demanded through short, quick breaths.

He pulled back on my hair again and I released a squeal of half pain and half pure elation. I could feel myself tightening around him. I was getting ready to burst.

“I... I’m...I’m gonna...” I panted.

“Oh, no you fucking don’t.”  

He gripped the back of my scalp and pulled me backwards, slamming me down onto my back and climbing on top of me.

“I wanna see it this time.”

He had acted so fast, I barely had time to register what he was doing and he was back inside me almost as soon as he had pulled out.

He buried his head in the crook of my neck, sucking and kissing, his teeth leaving delicious hickeys and bitemarks. When he came back up for breath, he wrapped his hand around my throat and pushed my bonded arms above my head, which I was grateful for as they were getting squashed between us. He crashed his lips onto mine for a rough kiss. His tongue demanded entrance to my mouth, which I gladly allowed.

With his other hand he caressed and stroked his hand down my thigh and under my calf. He then pulled it up and pushed it back so far it almost reached my shoulder. He adjusted himself to straddle my lower thigh and picked up a faster, harder pace. With my leg like this he was able to plunge deeper. He was forceful and powerful and I relished in every thrust. I cried out completely taken by my lust for him, closing my eyes to savour it all. I felt the sting of a slap on my cheek and flashed them back open.

“Right here, princess. Eyes right here.” He said, his voice low and raspy.  

His pupils were completely dilated, leaving only the thinnest ring of green around them. He seemed to be an apex predator that was in the midst of ravaging its prey and I was only too willing to be led to the slaughter.  

“Exciting enough for ya, sweetheart?” He smirked with a fiendish giggle.

“Uh huh...” I nodded dazedly.  

His laugh continued through the onslaught of fierce, deep thrusts pounding intensely into my lower regions. I tensed around his pulsing erection as I felt my climax creep back up on me. I let out loud erotic moans, as he built up more and more of that blissful warmth in my core.

“That’s right. Cum for me.” He grunted through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on my throat.

His pounding got faster and rougher, hitting my sweet spots exactly right. I was right on the edge of what I could tell was going to be a fantastic release. I got louder and louder as I came closer and teetered the brink.

“Yeah.. I... I’m.. Yeah... I’m gonna...”

“Go on, princess. Cum. Cum for me.”  

My orgasm shattered through me like a rock through glass. My body convulsed as my moans turned into lustful screams. The ferocity of it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. The sheer ecstasy took me higher than I’d ever been before. I was on a cloud and I could have stayed there forever. Jerome followed shortly after, growling like a beast as he exploded inside me. He collapsed breathlessly on top of me as I gently floated down from that little piece of heaven.  

“Oh, baby girl. I’m keeping you!” Jerome dropped a kiss on my lips and lifted himself up.  

I came to my senses and started to register the severity of what I had done. Or had it happened to me?  

“What does that mean?” I asked, nervous of his answer.  

He pulled up his underwear and trousers and tidied himself up, even taking time to straighten his tie.

“It means, baby doll, that this is gonna be the start of a beautiful friendship.”  

He laughed his signature maniacal cackle and hopped back in the driver's seat.

“Hey! Are you gonna untie me?” I called to him starting to get very worried.

“I don’t know, doll. I kinda like you like that.” He laughed.

He turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine.  

“Hold on, doll!” He cackled again, before speeding off again.

What have I gotten myself into?

[aizawaskittenwhore]

𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦.

𝘧𝘵. 𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰, 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪 (+𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴), 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘸𝘢.

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 18+ 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵. 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴: 1.5𝘬

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘰𝘺𝘴/𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢, 𝘤𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺/𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 18. 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬. 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘪 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴. 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺. 𝘮𝘸𝘢𝘩.

“man, fuck you, the horse you rode in on, and your weak ass dick! just leave me the fuck alone.” you spit, arms crossed as you shoot the man in front of you a glare hot like jet fuel.

𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶:

izuku midoriya is one of the sweetest people to grace the earth

there’s no doubt about it.

but know he is not afraid to put yo ass in a fucking headlock and pound his way into you, voice thick and raspy as he asks you just who the fuck you think you’re talking to.

he’s grown up quite a bit since high school

and refuses to get bitched by anyone, especially his own girlfriend.

a saccharine smile inches across peony pink lips, spreading over porcelain teeth

“you uh... you wanna repeat that, honey?”

you know you’ve made a mistake

he’s got that look in his eye, ravenous and wicked

“look...izuku, baby, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to snap like that—“

“that’s not what i asked. i asked you...if you wanna repeat that.”

would definitely strap your ankles to a spreader bar, reveling in the way you continue to writhe against it

only to cry out in desperation once you realize that the more you struggle, the wider your legs go

or he’ll make you cry as you struggle to form a coherent apology, words choppy from the the remote controlled vibe is sending shockwaves through your heavily sensitive clit

he’d kneel above you, smile wide and innocent as he turns it up to the second most powerful setting, hard-on growing at the sight of your head lolling back while you try to appease him with sorry after sorry

“i-izuku—fuck, fuck! mmh— it’s too much....please, please, ‘m sorry! i didn’t mean it, ’m too sensitive—please just let me make it up to you baby—“

“all you gotta do is say the magic words sweetheart, and i’ll give you what you need.”

yeah, he’s one of those motherfuckers.

“remind me who’s pussy this is, and this’ll all be over with.”

“god, fine!! it’s yours okay! nobody else’s..now please, please fuck me izuku, i need you—“

doesn’t hold back for a second when he’s staking his claim all over your body, a calloused thumb roving over your clit gently, mindful of your sensitivity but edging you closer and closer to a fifth orgasm

happily smears strings of thick, sticky cum all over your stomach to mark you as his

and doesn’t hesitate to lick it off the supple, soft skin of your torso, the milky white substance congealing with transparent slippery saliva

he grasps your face firmly, fingers pushing your cheeks inwards and causing your spit slicked lips to jut out in a pretty little pout

“open.” he mutters before dripping the salty concoction onto your awaiting tongue, a throaty groan rumbling in his chest as he watches you happily swallow every last drop

“good girl.”

the aftercare is immaculate, izuku taking his time to wipe you clean so tenderly, lips pressing against each and every bruise, your body pliant as he whispers sweet reassurances into your sweat soaked skin

“much better now, right?”

you nod, eyes heavy as you sink into the warmth of his chest, hands clinging to him like he could disappear at any moment

“happy i could help you relieve some of that tension honey.”

“but talk to me like that again, and i promise you that’ll be the last time you call anything about me weak, especially how i fuck you. got it?”

prepare to be not only throughly sore the next day, but to have to conceal fingerprint shaped bruises on your hips and thighs

takes pictures of your fucked out face to have for future incidents where you decide you wanna talk like you have zero home training

and isn’t afraid to flash katsuki one or two whenever he gets to talking about how he could take you from him.

𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰:

“so that’s how you wanna act, hm? if you needed some dick you should’ve just fuckin’ said so instead of always runnin’ your damn mouth.”

he whirls you around, pelvis pressing into the small of your back, rivulets of sweat beading at the base of your neck from his close proximity

he’s such a glutton for putting little bitches like you in their place.

blade sharp canines dragging against the curve of your neck, pathetic attempts to maintain your resolve falling from unsteady lips

“the hell’s wrong with you—you already know i’m with izuku...i’m not doing this shit to him again—”

but you were already gone when his lips slotted against yours, body throbbing at the contact

now izuku was a good lover, a giver, a pleaser at heart

always putting your enjoyment above his

but eventually one grows tired of slick tongues and curved fingers, pretty whines and gentle kisses

you wanted “fuck you”s, spit flying along sick expletives hurled at your bowed, desperate figure, sweet sticky semen coating your throat after it was abused and stroked as though you were a piece of plastic.

and as luck may have it, katsuki was more than willing to provide.

yet today you’d had enough, his subtle touches when you passed one another had garnered izuku’s attention; you’d reassured the male that it was nothing to bother with, that the two of you were just coworkers.

at least when his balls aren’t in your slutty fucking mouth, thick bubbled spit dripping onto your home screen as you text izuku that you’ll be home late for “stir-friday” once again.

the best sex was on days like today, when you got just a little too reckless at the mouth

when you needed a not so gentle reminder of who’s leaving you breathless all hours of the night

takes his time with you, fingers teeming with a slight brine as they’re sloppily thrust into your mouth with a “shut the fuck up talking to me like you don’t know who the fuck i am.”

degradation? baby, you’ve met the man.

“wanna act like a bitch, that’s fine. just don’t complain when i leave you limping like one, got it?”

you’re shoved atop a desk, it’s contents forgotten as katsuki latches onto a tit and proceeds to leave mark after mark, striving to rid any trace of your lover

panties tugged to the side, fingerpads waltzing up the length of your—no, his pussy

kisses down your sternum and the plush skin of your stomach, flipping you opposite him before snaking his tongue between your southernmost lips, devouring you like a man starved

but doesn’t let you cum, not yet anyway

“katsuki—please, i need it, don’t fucking tease..”

hates when you whine because it chips at his hard exterior, he’d give anything to pull another cry from you

“beg for it then. you had so much to say earlier, eh? go ahead and put your mouth to better use, fuckin’ slut.”

spanks you while he eats it from the back cause he can

and don’t even get me started on his size kink

lives for making you feel small against his large stature and even larger ego

“damn, you’re tight...thought deku would’ve broken you in a bit more for me by now—”

his pace is angry and unforgiving like his mouth, leaving you no mercy when he finally takes his place between your thighs

“that’s it...take that shit. don’t run...come on, tell me who’s dick you go dumb for, say it—“

“yours! j-just yours, never ‘zuku. fuck! m’ so fucking close please, please—“

cant fill you up like he wants, but settles for painting your body with splotches of white, watching them mix with your now-purpling bruises

and when izuku calls your phone on the hour to ask when you’ll be home, that cocky fuck answers

“relax. your little girlfriend and i are at the office with some reports, she’s so damn uptight...been on my dick this entire time. “

“should probably loosen her up more, maybe she’d be less annoying.”

𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪:

he secretly loves it when you get like this

while dabi loves the rush of tossing around some brainless slut with a thing for fucking mass murderers

pussy was much better when it came with a little resistance, a little push back before he got what he wanted

“dabi come on..let her be. i’m sorry sweetness, this guy botherin’ you?”

his counterpart, keigo, was a top tier scumbag with grade-A looks, words mingling with a dulcet voice that could turn water into wine if he pleased

sienna wings bristled against his shoulder blades as he leaned down, an arm coming across your chest casually, bent over the back of the couch

“don’t call me that shit. actually, both of you are bothering me.” you grit, a hand swatting away tanned nimble fingers that were slowly making their way towards a breast

“see what i mean kei? she’s being a fucking brat. can’t stand bitches like her, always thinking they’re too good for guys like us.”

dabi takes a seat to your left, cyan eyes raking over the curve of your hips ravenously, staples gleaming in the bar’s gentle yellow glow

he was going to have so much fun breaking you in.

“ i think i know what her problem is....somebody just wants a little attention, right? hell, look at how she’s dressed...”

keigo’s eyes have taken on a darker energy, a hand winding around the width of your neck and squeezing lightly

“i don’t want anything from either of you assholes—wait, the hell are you trying to—ah!”

taking advantage of your pliant state, dabi’s hands begin to roam over exposed skin, a scarred set of hands slithering up your top

his abrasive fingers tweak your nipples roughly, rolling them between a forefinger and thumb with a lustful glare

“come on...don’t you want us to make you feel good? tell us you don’t want us to cream you like a fuckin’ twinkie, and we’ll leave your bitchy ass high and fucking dry, just like this.”

you hate them, the last thing you want is for either of these douchebags to be what gets you off

but god do keigo’s lips feel like heaven on earth when they’re against your pulse point like that, and dabi’s profuse experience shows in the way he manipulates your body to make you sigh in ecstasy, fingers slipping past drenched lace with ease to tease your sensitive clit...

“we—we shouldn’t do this out here, someone might see...s-shit, ah fuck—”

“so what? don’t want everyone to see how much you like getting double teamed?” keigo taunts, tongue darting out to soothe the harsh bruise he’d finished sucking into the skin beneath your ear

“nah, i think we’ll take you right here. besides, it’s just us and the boss man tonight. ‘should let him watch though, maybe he’d learn a thing or two about what a good fuck really looks like instead of that hentai shit.”

“so...you in or not? my hand’s starting to cramp.”

you nod, the motion serving at the catalyst for a number of debaucherous things that would soon happen to your body

marking is an absolute must

keigo’s practically feral once he knows you’re his to play with, love bites littering the expanse of your tits, neck, even the inside of your thighs

dabi marks you too, but he’s not nearly as nice as keigo, leaving handprints all over your ass, each one accompanied by a harsh yet tolerable burn

you can thank his quirk for that

they’re sloppy and they know it, dabi’s spit creating web-like strings connecting your pussy lips together, the metal barbell wedged between tongue muscle retreating from beneath your trembling thighs

meanwhile keigo’s reveling in the way your spit coats his dick in an effortless gloss, a hand keeping your head steady as he drives into your throat with reckless abandon

the saliva making its way down through the valley of your breasts while you struggle to breathe, eyes watering in both panic and pleasure as the two use you like a toy

they take turns, metal and heady sweat flood your tastebuds when dabi takes on keigo’s previous stance

dabi certainly makes sure you give his balls special attention. it doesnt enhance his pleasure, he just likes seeing you get so nasty for him.

not so high and mighty when you’re gargling the dick of one of japan’s most wanted, are you?

keigo’s dick reaches depths you didn’t think possible, tip prodding your innermost spots and making you sputter pathetically around dabi’s length, eyes burning as you try to control the heat in your lungs

“nah nah nah, don’t get all teary eyed now—thought it was “fuck us and our weak ass dick”? hm? well this weak ass dick’s makin’ you choke like a two dollar whore, and keigo’s about to pump that sloppy cunt full of cum...still think you’re better than us?”

you’re tossed between the two men like a ragdoll, until your body’s spent and you’re bred so good that you drip with their mix of fluids every time you shift a little

the men don’t hesitate to compliment your endurance, praising you for being “such a good little fucktoy”.

which in dabi’s words, is the closest you’ll ever get to a “sorry for bothering you”.

𝘢𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘸𝘢:

let me tell you a thing or two about shota.

he has no time, or tolerance, for bullshit.

between his atrocious sleep schedule, nightly patrols, and his day job as a high school teacher, he doesn’t have the capacity for mind games

so when you’d snapped on him like that, he did what he felt like was the most logical thing

he left you alone. he wasn’t about to get into some childish argument all because he didn’t give you the reaction you’d wanted over a dress

aizawa’s not a reactive man by nature

so when you’d purchased the sultry number, seams tight and neckline waivering on indecent

he’d merely hummed at the article of clothing in approval, committing the sight to memory before going back to finish reviewing his lesson plans for next week

which to you, wasn’t good enough. you wanted him to exhibit some sort of lust, something that made you feel like you still had him in the palm of your hand

it wasn’t like the two of you weren’t having sex, no not at all. but you wanted to feel like he wasn’t just attracted to you, but craved, desired, was desperate for your touch every now and again

and when he’d given his...lackluster feedback, you exploded, the two of you briefly exchanging words before you’d said that. shota was in no mood to argue, so he excused himself from the room to continue his work

“sorry if i actually want to, you know, feel desired by my own boyfriend? god, it’s like you don’t even look at me anymore.”

that comment stung, even recalling your wounded tone made his heart ache

was he really not paying attention to you?

but, unsurprisingly, the feelings of anger didn’t abate. just what made you think you could play these games with him, the two of you were grown, you knew if you wanted something all you had to do was ask—it made no sense

steel pen tip digging into the hurried scrawl of kaminari’s essay....if you could even call it that, he rose from his desk, relieved his tense neck from the presence of hair by knotting it into a high ponytail

beginning to strip as he made his way toward your shower

you wanted him to look at you? alright. he’d do exactly that, and then some. just remember, be careful what you wish for.

“shota? look... i’m sorry for how i acted earlier. i should’ve just communicated how i felt instead of blowing up on you like that, i just get frustrated with how much you work and how we never see each other, and it makes it hard for me to—mmph!”

he meets your lips with a subdued roughness, hands splayed across your hips, water trickling across stiffened knuckles while he fumbled and scoured for any piece of you he could manage to grasp

“you said you feel like i don’t look at you anymore.”

“lets fix that. i have a proposition for you. if you manage to hold eye contact with me for however long it takes for you to cum, my body’s yours to do whatever you want with.”

“however...look away for even a second, and i’ll have no problem reminding you just how much you can take before you’re begging for me to fuck you. you know how...efficient i can be. sound fair?”

now something he’d alluded to, but never said about this little agreement? there was no way for you to win.

on days where his exhaustion levels weren’t at an all time low, he’d find himself lapping at the slightly acidic, rich nectar between your thighs for hours and hours on end

so what made you think you even had the resolve to maintain eye contact the entire time?

you lose, though that was to be expected

and shota couldn’t be happier about it

now while it’s practically canon that he’s into bondage, let’s switch things up a bit

honestly, he’s the type to love proving a point.

he’ll make you ride his dick, not letting you stop for a second even though he’s practically in your stomach at this point

bad at it? he doesn’t care. your knees are giving out? not his problem.

“sho-please, i can’t, ‘s too big...fuck—“

“damn, and to think i had ‘weak ass dick’ before. now you can’t take it? pick a side sweetheart, your desperation is showing.”

he’s not incredibly vocal in the bedroom as that’s just not who he is

but makes an exception when it comes to making fun of you

“come on, you can swallow more than that, right? tch. you’ve gotten lazy.”

is another one of those “take a photo for future reference” type of people. but he’s respectful of not only your privacy but his own, and keeps it in the hidden photos folder of his camera roll like a sane adult.

he had to learn the hard way about the importance of concealing scandalous materials that one time hizashi was using screen sharing to suggest a new learning course during a staff meeting

only for the blonde to scroll and several pairs of eyes in the room to be blessed (or cursed) with the sight of a rather ecstatic looking woman bent in a position that would make a gymnast blush

also likes to give you sloppy, shallow half strokes to drive you to the point of insanity before spreading your ass cheeks and molding your body to the bed beneath you

“you wanna know what i was thinking about when you walked out with that dress on? hm? i wondered... ‘how long it would take before we used it as a cumrag after i was done with you?’ i thought about doing this.”

oh, and by the way, there’s a mirror above your bed for a reason. but we’ll get into that some other time, won’t we?

[kjmsupremacist]

double exposure (yuta/taeyong)

During promotions for his first Japanese mini album, k-idol Taeyong meets one of his favorite artists, j-rock star Yuta. Though it starts casual, Taeyong begins to realize he may be in over his head, and struggles to reconcile his affection for Yuta with all the things that keep them apart.

Chapter 3 |   prev   next   mlist

Characters: Taeyong, Yuta

Genre: k-soloist taeyong, jrockstar yuta; romance, smut, angst

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, smut, slight overstimulation, alcohol mentions, homophobia mentions

Rating: Explicit

Length: 4.5k

taglist: @meowniee @flowerboykun​

The last couple of weeks have passed in a blur. Things have been pretty busy, so Taeyong’s only been able to meet up with Yuta a couple of times. It’s been back to back to back shows and interviews and magazine shoots, so Taeyong barely has time to sleep, let alone do anything else.

Still, they’ve been texting, and the little time they have been able to spend together has been, well, fruitful, Taeyong supposes. They’re still learning their exact roles around each other, but they’re comfortable now. They’re learning their dance, filling the steps with jokes and kisses. And their moments together are sweet, however brief. 

But Taeyong’s activities are winding down now; soon, he’ll be flying back to Korea for a brief hiatus. He requested to have a couple of free days at the end of his trip, originally planning to spend the time vacationing and exploring the city. His plans have changed a little now, but he’s grateful for the free days all the same. 

Yuta swings by his place a couple days before he’s set to depart. Their managers thought it would be wise to let them have one last public appearance together so people didn’t start wondering what was up with them, start making up stories about their relationship. Yuta takes him to the Meiji Shrine, and they stroll around together as Yuta gives Taeyong a short history lesson about the emperor and empress to whom the shrine is dedicated. They turn some heads, but Yuta’s security detail follows closely, so they’re not disturbed. Still, when Taeyong grows tired of the scrutiny, Yuta suggests they call it a day.

“Come back to mine?” Taeyong asks. “I can cook for us. I have groceries that still need using before I leave.”

Yuta’s eyes flash mischievously as he grins. “Sure,” he replies. “I’d love that.”

Taeyong had sort of planned for this, so his place is neat and tidy when they arrive. Still, he’s faintly embarrassed—there’s something about a living space that’s so intimate and so revealing, even one as temporary as Taeyong’s little rental. Yuta pokes around his kitchen, bold but still polite, admiring his decorations, giggling over the pictures on his cabinet.

“This is Ruby, right?” Yuta asks, pointing at one. “I was so sorry to hear about her passing.”

Taeyong’s vaguely surprised that he knew, and a little touched. “Yes,” he says softly as he brings down pots and pans. “That’s her.”

“And these—your famous idol friends,” Yuta says. “Wait, I can name them. Johnny. Doyoung. Who’s the third?”

Taeyong smiles. “Kun. Not an idol, a composer and producer.” He opens his cupboard. “You like spicy food, right?”

“Yes,” Yuta says. His voice sounds closer now; when Taeyong turns, he finds him only a few paces away, leaning back against his countertop. “Does Kun compose for you?”

“Sometimes,” Taeyong says. “I try to help with production though.” He shrugs, setting a pot of water to boil and opening his fridge to find the nice beef he’d been saving. “He composed my last title track, actually.”

“Ah.” Yuta nods approvingly. “Good composer.” He watches Taeyong for a moment. “Can I help?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “No, it’s alright.” He looks up at Yuta through his eyelashes. “Just talk to me.”

Yuta grins. “Sure.” He crosses his arms. “Today, the shrine, it was on your list of places you wanted to go, right?”

“Mm-hm,” Taeyong says as he heats up a pan.

“Did you get everything on your list?”

“Oh, god no.” Taeyong makes a sad face at him. “Too busy!”

“Oh, dear,” Yuta says sympathetically. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to come back and visit some other time. I’d be happy to reprise my role as tour guide, if you’ll have me.”

Taeyong giggles. “I’d love that, yeah.” He flashes a brief look up at Yuta. “You make an excellent tour guide.”

“Mm, another satisfied customer,” Yuta says, laughing. He scoots close, sneaking a little kiss. Taeyong squeaks in surprise.

“Careful, there’s hot oil,” he reprimands him, though Yuta’s already returned to his place against the counter.

Yuta reveals a fancy bottle of wine as Taeyong’s setting the table, and they drink and eat and laugh as the sun begins to set. Yuta helps him do the dishes, even though Taeyong protests. His hands are nimble and practiced; Taeyong finds himself watching those fingers out of the corner of his eye.

“You’ll stay the night?” Taeyong asks quietly as he pops a pod of dish soap into his dishwasher and turns it on.

“Unless you’d rather be alone,” Yuta says.

“Don’t be silly.” Taeyong nods for him to follow, padding out of the kitchen and down the hall to his room.

Yuta takes his time taking in Taeyong’s room as Taeyong scrounges around for lube and a condom. “It’s so cute,” he says, looking over some of his figurines. “You’re a nerd,” he adds fondly.

“Thanks,” Taeyong says drily, settling criss-cross-applesauce on top of his mattress. “Now come here.”

Yuta turns slowly, smile dark and wicked. “Of course, honey,” he says softly. He saunters over to Taeyong, planting a knee on the bed next to Taeyong’s right hip. Taeyong reaches out to him, holding tight to a pinch of his shirt. “Hi,” Yuta says.

“Hi,” Taeyong says back.

“Thank you for dinner,” Yuta says, and Taeyong makes a sort of nonplussed noise in response. Yuta lets out a soft exhale of laughter, bringing a hand up to brush Taeyong’s bangs off his forehead. “You’re leaving day after tomorrow, right?” 

“Mm-hm,” Taeyong says, pouting a little.

“Guess I’ll just have to treat you extra special tonight then, huh?” Yuta says. He combs through Taeyong’s hair, nails just barely scratching on his scalp, the motion rhythmic and soothing. 

Taeyong leans into his touch, almost subconsciously. “Guess you will,” he mumbles. He blinks up at Yuta, makes his eyes big and round, hoping it’ll spur Yuta into action.

It works. Yuta’s hand turns to a fist in Taeyong’s hair. Taeyong makes little hurt noises just for show as Yuta crowds him, bending over him, dipping his head low to mouth along his neck and jaw. “You’re really something else,” he murmurs into his skin. “Y’know that?” He doesn’t even pause to see if Taeyong will respond; he pushes away so Taeyong can move. “Lie back, honey. Gonna take such good care of you.” Taeyong whimpers softly as he complies, scooting up to his pillows, shoving the blankets aside to make room. Yuta is next to him as soon as he’s settled, running his hands up and down his arms, sneaking them under his shirt so he can feel his bare skin there.

“Want it,” Taeyong says, though he’s honestly not even sure what exactly he’s asking for. “Want you.”

Yuta smiles. “I’m right here, honey. Arms up for me?” He pulls at Taeyong’s shirt, working it up and off his body with nimble fingers. “So pretty.”

He tosses Taeyong’s shirt aside and bends over him, attaching his mouth to his chest. Taeyong’s body arches up on its own, chasing Yuta’s lips instinctually. “Yuta,” he breathes.

Yuta looks up at him, speaking into his skin. “Let’s take it slow tonight,” he says. “We have all the time in the world. Wanna see all of you. Wanna kiss you everywhere. How’s that sound?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong agrees, nodding. 

“God, you’re so—” Yuta interrupts himself to nip at the tender skin stretched thin over Taeyong’s ribcage. Taeyong yelps softly, surprised, and Yuta laughs. “I don’t know what it is,” Yuta continues, voice low and conspiratorial. “Something about you just makes me lose control, it’s like you’re begging me to undo you.”

“It’s ‘cuz I am,” Taeyong replies, and Yuta shakes his head.

“Make me wanna do such awful things,” he says. His hands are on Taeyong’s pants now; he looks up for affirmation and Taeyong just blinks at him to go ahead. He yanks them down, underwear coming with them, and tugs them around Taeyong’s ankles. Taeyong struggles free, and Yuta spreads his legs with both hands. “What would people think if they found out?”

“About you?” Taeyong asks. “I doubt it would change much. Your image is pretty… raunchy already, isn’t it?”

“Mm, that’s true,” Yuta says. “You, on the other hand… They’d be so scandalized.”

“You’d be surprised,” Taeyong giggles. “From what I’ve seen, I think plenty of them have a pretty good idea of what I’m really like, even if they don’t know it.”

Yuta hums in amusement, reaching up for the lube Taeyong discarded on the bed. “Let’s pray they never find out for certain, hm? For the sake of your manager’s mental health?”

Taeyong snorts unattractively as Yuta presses the first lube-slick finger up against his entrance. But Yuta doesn’t say a thing, just kisses his kneecap and runs the thumb of his other hand down the length of Taeyong’s cock. 

“But you can show me, can’t you?” he asks, soft and dangerous. “You can show me what you’re really like.”

Taeyong shivers without meaning to. “Yuta,” he breathes. Maybe he’s begging. “I already have.”

“Well, you know me.” Yuta leans forward just a little, mouth hovering over the head of Taeyong’s cock. “Insatiable.” He presses his tongue to the slit, then draws it back into his mouth, teasing. “But that’s okay, isn’t it?” He does it again; this time, though, he swipes his tongue from side to side before pausing to speak. “You’re the same, aren’t you?”

Taeyong nods, blinking down at him, wide-eyed with anticipation. 

Yuta raises a hand, so fast Taeyong doesn’t see it until after he’s registered the pain. Yuta taps his cock again—Taeyong can’t really call it slapping, it hardly does more than sting—tilting his head. “Your words, honey.”

“Yes,” Taeyong says quickly. “Yes, I’m the same as you.”

Yuta grins. “That’s right.” He finally pushes that finger into Taeyong, watching with sadistic pleasure when Taeyong convulses at the unexpected intrusion. “Nothing is ever enough.” He curls over Taeyong’s body, presses a searing kiss to his inner thigh. “Except maybe me.” He bites over the spot, and Taeyong yelps in surprise. “You okay?” he asks, face gentling for a second as he searches Taeyong’s eyes.

“I’m okay,” Taeyong reassures him. He means it.

Yuta nods, though he backs off anyway, more interested in fingering Taeyong than being mean, Taeyong thinks. He works his finger in and out, slow and careful. He seems intent on taking his time tonight; he keeps the same pace even as Taeyong relaxes around him.

Slow torture, Taeyong concludes. That’s what treating me extra special means. He doesn’t mind. It just means more time with Yuta. He settles again, watching Yuta through half-lidded eyes, letting himself admire him the way he can’t when they’re in public—the line of his brows; the sharp, intelligent gleam in his eyes; the wicked curve of his lips when he smiles. Taeyong thinks he could stare at him forever.

“What?” Yuta asks softly.

“You’re beautiful,” Taeyong blurts before he can stop himself.

And there’s the smile Taeyong adores, the one that makes something in him shake with desire. “Yeah?” Yuta asks.

“Yeah,” Taeyong says breathlessly, faint embarrassment dissipating instantly. He doesn’t mind, if he can keep Yuta smiling. “Wish I could see all of you, without all your clothes in the way.”

“Oh, you’re right,” Yuta says, pulling his finger out slowly and then yanking his shirt off with his clean hand. “Not fair, is it, honey?”

Taeyong pouts, shaking his head, though the pout quickly turns to a delighted smile when Yuta stands and shucks off his pants, taking his underwear (and socks, Taeyong realizes) with them. Yuta crawls back up the bed to him, arranging himself once again between Taeyong’s thighs, looking up again to catch Taeyong’s eye and give him a smirk.

“Better?” he asks as he goes to add some more lube to his fingers.

Taeyong hums appreciatively. “Much better,” he agrees.

Yuta sinks two fingers into him this time, but it’s hardly a stretch since he spent so long on the first. He leans forward, planting kisses along the seam of Taeyong’s belly, then higher, shifting the hand that isn’t inside Taeyong up on the bed to help him stay balanced. “You’re beautiful, too,” he murmurs. “I remember the first time I saw a video of you, I thought, ‘no way does he look like that. No way is that real.’ Imagine my surprise when I discovered that you’re even better in person? I’m still not sure,” he continues, slotting kisses between Taeyong’s ribs as he continues to pump his fingers in and out at the same slow, measured pace, “if you really are real. Were you born like the rest of us, or sculpted and sent as a reminder of what we should be?”

“You give me too much credit,” Taeyong whispers. “You know we all get surgery.”

Yuta is smiling; Taeyong can feel it against his skin. “But you have to start somewhere. You can’t make something out of nothing.”

Taeyong huffs softly. “I’ll let you believe it,” he says.

“How kind of you,” Yuta replies, and Taeyong giggles.

Yuta curls his fingers against Taeyong’s prostate, and his giggles quickly morph into hiccuped moans. His hands find Yuta’s hair instinctively; he has to flex his fingers out straight so he doesn’t tighten them into fists against Yuta’s scalp. Yuta raises his head, turning so he can kiss the inside of one of Taeyong’s wrists.

“Yuta,” Taeyong gasps when he does it again. He’s just brushing over the spot, really, but Taeyong can feel it in his toes. 

“Here, right?” Yuta asks, rubbing a slow circle into the spot, watching Taeyong’s face. Taeyong can only whimper. “Good,” Yuta says, and then doesn’t let up, petting over his prostate again and again with no reprieve.

“Yuta,” Taeyong moans, nearly chokes. His hips are twitching, just small, abortive movements, like Taeyong’s body can’t quite decide if it wants to chase the sensation or sprint in the opposite direction. It leaves Taeyong feeling like he’s on the edge of a knife, teetering between a painful sort of pleasure and a devastating fall. 

Yuta rests his forehead against Taeyong’s stomach, right in between the two points of his ribcage, and brings his other hand up to Taeyong’s chest, circling one of his dusky pink nipples. It’s nearly too much for Taeyong; he thinks somewhere in the back of his foggy brain that he’s very glad Yuta doesn’t have a third arm to torture his cock with, or he’d be in real trouble. As it is, he can barely breathe for the pleasure that’s taken him over. 

After a minute or so of this, Yuta pulls his fingers out—not all the way, just to slide a third one in beside the first two. Luckily for Taeyong’s fraying sanity, he doesn’t go back to his prostate, but instead focuses on stretching Taeyong again, moving carefully and with purpose now, instead of just with the intent to make Taeyong melt into a puddle of lust. 

Yuta sits back again, withdrawing from Taeyong’s chest, and instead refocuses his attention on his thighs. He runs his fingers along the length of Taeyong’s legs, scattering kisses across his skin as he fingers him open. It’s patternless; it seems to Taeyong that Yuta sees a spot that looks unkissed and immediately finds it with his lips. It’s almost like he’s claiming Taeyong, one kiss at a time.

Taeyong whines a little when he feels Yuta squeeze his pinky in beside the rest, but there’s hardly any pain. Yuta seems to know this; he only laughs softly. “Such a crybaby,” he teases. “Does it really hurt?”

Under the scrutiny of his gaze, Taeyong finds it impossible to lie. He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Just—feel so full, but it’s not enough. Want you, want your cock.”

“Keep your patience for a few more minutes,” Yuta says. “I’ll give you what you want, you know I will.”

Taeyong isn’t worried about his patience—if it’s for Yuta, he could wait all day, he thinks. He’s worried more about his body getting the better of him. Yuta’s been taking his time, drawing this out, and it’s put Taeyong just on the edge. He’s well past embarrassment at this point—he knows Yuta delights in making him come as much as he possibly can—but Taeyong doesn’t have the best stamina, and he doesn’t want to get too tired too soon. 

He doesn’t voice any of this, though. Part of him is curious to see what will happen if he lets Yuta have his way (the other part of him is just lazy). He shudders through a few more minutes of fingering and then finally Yuta pulls out, planting a kiss on the peak of Taeyong’s hip bone.

“There,” he says. “Now you’re ready.”

“Then hurry,” Taeyong says.

“Why hurry?” Yuta teases as he grabs the condom, tearing the package open with his teeth. “I thought we were gonna take it slow.”

“Please,” is all Taeyong can manage, skin buzzing with the need for Yuta to fuck him. 

“All this attitude, when I’ve been treating you so nicely,” Yuta says, but his tone is light and mirthful; he doesn’t stop what he’s doing to actually reprimand Taeyong. He spreads lube over his cock and lines up with Taeyong’s entrance.

“Not attitude, it—oh, fuck,” Taeyong whimpers, the rest of the sentence immediately escaping him as Yuta pushes in. His eyes roll back; he arches off the bed as Yuta bottoms out, head of his cock flush against Taeyong’s prostate, and Taeyong realizes too late that he’s coming. “Fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers through gritted teeth as he feels the first drops of his release hit his stomach, sticky and warm.

Yuta hurries to curl over him, resting his weight on his elbows, lips finding Taeyong’s neck, one hand finding his cheek while the other reaches down to stroke him through the aftershocks. “Oh, honey,” Yuta murmurs, voice dripping syrupy sweet, “did you just come?”

Taeyong gasps in breaths as his heart rate slows again, nodding. “Couldn’t help it,” he says. “Everything f-feels so good. I—I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” Yuta’s voice is rich with indulgence, dark and warm. “It was hot. You’re always so pretty when you come.”

Taeyong can’t help but preen—and who can blame him? It seems it’s simply another thing he can’t help, courtesy again of Yuta.

Yuta pushes himself up, raising the hand that was on Taeyong’s cock to his lips so he can clean himself up. He meets Taeyong’s eyes as he does it, and it makes Taeyong shiver. There’s something so filthy and so fucking hot about it—Yuta, sharp eyes staring straight into Taeyong’s, licking Taeyong’s release off his fingers. 

Yuta also starts moving his hips—just small, gentle circles at first, to make sure Taeyong’s body is ready for what’s to come. Taeyong finds it difficult to keep his thoughts coherent, not when the head of Yuta’s perfect cock is still lighting up his prostate with no reprieve, not when Yuta is looking at him like that—like he wants to devour him. There’s a greedy, possessive edge to his gaze that has heat curling in Taeyong’s belly. 

Hand now clean, Yuta lowers himself back down so he’s hovering over Taeyong, hair falling into his eyes as he shifts his weight onto his hands, rocking his hips back and then forwards again, almost like he’s testing the waters, like he wants to see what Taeyong will do.

Taeyong gives him a pitiful little moan, hoping it’ll make Yuta show a little mercy, but Yuta just laughs. “Stay with me, honey,” he says. “I���m not done with you yet. Won’t be for a while.”

“Yuta,” Taeyong whines, grabbing for one of his biceps. Yuta only hums, rocking into him again, this time a little rougher. He doesn’t pause this time, setting up a slow and fluid kind of rhythm. It’s nice and gentle and just enough friction that Taeyong feels himself start to unravel immediately. Yuta dips his head to lick kisses into Taeyong’s mouth, and all Taeyong can do is kiss back weakly as he struggles to keep a hold of what may very well be his last scrap of lucidity.

Taeyong knows he’s like this—gets fucked out and dumb really easily, too happy to let himself get lost in the pleasure to care—but with Yuta it’s amplified somehow. It’s like Yuta knows exactly how to get into his head, fast and silent, and breaks him down from there; easy, skillful, sweet. 

Yuta’s tipped forward now, has a hand in Taeyong’s hair. He doesn’t pull, though; instead, he massages Taeyong’s scalp with the pads of his fingers. It lulls Taeyong, drags him down deeper, until all he can feel is Yuta—Yuta’s cock, his lips, his hands. He feels Yuta’s tongue against his teeth and tightens his grip on Yuta’s arm. He’s not sure where the impulse comes from—maybe it’s just that he wants to feel like Yuta is as much his as he knows he’s Yuta’s. Even if they never meet again after Taeyong goes home, the memories will linger, will tint everything (and everyone) that Taeyong does just a few shades less colorful, less vibrant. There’s something about Yuta and the way he treats Taeyong that makes him feel like everything else has something missing. 

Taeyong hopes they’ll meet again. He hopes Yuta can come visit him, and he can show him around Seoul the way Yuta’s done for him, and he hopes to god Yuta will fuck him again—at home or at the studio or in a hotel room somewhere, Taeyong doesn’t care. Taeyong just knows he wants it—even now, with Yuta fucking him so nice and deep, he finds himself thinking about when he’ll get it again.

Yuta pulls back, breaking their kiss, and a string of spit follows him, connecting their lips. Yuta notices it too and grins, waving his hand across it so it snaps. “So messy,” he murmurs. “You look so good, honey. You look happy, are you happy?”

“Yes. Feels good,” Taeyong whispers, slurring as he struggles to focus his eyes. “Keep going, don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Yuta soothes. His hand leaves Taeyong’s hair; instead he trails it down his neck and chest before settling it on his waist. He bends over Taeyong’s chest and takes one of his nipples between his teeth—delicately; not to bite, just to roll against his tongue. Taeyong knows his chest will be raw and chafing in the morning, but he doesn’t care. He’s going home, anyway; there will be no cameras he needs to look nice for, no tight shirts waiting for him, no one to notice his discomfort. Besides, he likes the idea that he’ll carry a bit of Yuta back with him, a sort of reminder of the time they spent together, however brief.

Taeyong arches up into Yuta’s mouth, and Yuta takes the opportunity to snake an arm between his body and the bed, wrapping it around his waist and holding him close. The vulnerability of the position makes Taeyong’s head spin, and the new angle certainly isn’t helping. He knows he’s already hard again, and leaking—he can feel the sticky wetness of precome cooling against his stomach.

Yuta really isn’t much bigger than him. They’re the same height and, sure, Yuta’s more muscular, but not significantly. Still, Taeyong feels small, being held like this. He feels precious; cared for. Yuta releases his nipple from his teeth and presses his tongue flat to it instead, flicking back and forth, and Taeyong convulses, moaning weakly.

Yuta pulls back, giving him a short break. “Perfect, honey,” he says against Taeyong’s skin, voice smooth and even despite the way he’s fucking Taeyong—still so deep, thrusts strong and fluid. “You’re perfect for this.”

“Oh,” Taeyong whimpers, trembling.

“I like seeing what I do to you,” Yuta continues, pausing every couple of words to kiss Taeyong’s chest, his sternum. “But do you know what you do to me, baby? I’m already so close, and it’s just you, your body, your tight little hole, how sweet you sound when I fuck you.” Taeyong moans softly, clinging tighter as Yuta readjusts his grip on his waist. “Yeah, just like that, honey. Sound so good for me, so fucking filthy. Perfect.”

“Close,” Taeyong manages, his voice coming out raw.

“You are, too?” Yuta asks. “Good. Wanna make you feel good.”

“You always do,” Taeyong says, gasping when Yuta makes a noise close to a growl and scrapes his teeth across one of his pecs. 

“Touch yourself, honey,” he says. “I don’t have a hand to spare, and I wanna hold you close like this.” Taeyong reaches a shaking hand down to his cock, toes curling on the first stroke. “Good, that’s good,” Yuta continues. “Match my pace, just like this, okay?”

He speeds up only a little, and Taeyong follows without thinking, jerking himself off to the same rhythm of Yuta’s thrusts. Yuta licks over his other nipple, pads of his fingers pressing into the soft skin of his waist, holding him so tight Taeyong’s sure he’ll bruise. Good, he thinks. He wants Yuta’s touch to linger, even after he’s gone. 

Surprisingly, maybe, Yuta comes first, stuttering over moans as his hips twitch against Taeyong, still holding him tight even though his arms shake. His teeth find Taeyong’s collarbone, and the pain that blooms there, bright and hot, sends Taeyong over the edge. He clenches down around Yuta, shocking a sort of wounded noise out of him as he spills ribbons of white across his stomach for the second time tonight. 

Yuta lowers him back onto the bed, extracting his arm from underneath him, panting softly, then leans in for a kiss. It’s lazy and gentle, and Taeyong closes his eyes, using his clean hand to cup Yuta’s jaw. 

“I meant it,” Yuta says when they break apart. “You’re perfect.”

ϟ ϟ ϟ

The next morning, Yuta’s up before Taeyong even stirs. He wakes to the gentle sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen, and pads down the hall blearily to find Yuta making a feast of soft, souffle-style pancakes, as well as a generous serving of bacon.

“Thank you,” Taeyong says softly as he grabs mugs for coffee.

“Of course,” Yuta says warmly. “It’s our last day together. I want you to remember me fondly.”

“Like I wouldn’t already,” Taeyong mutters, and Yuta laughs.

After breakfast is eaten and the dishes are soaking in the sink, Yuta receives a text from his manager telling him to get his ass in gear so she can drive him back to the company building.

“Sorry, honey,” he says, kissing Taeyong again and again as he struggles into a leather jacket. “I wish I could stay. Have a good flight tomorrow, okay?”

“I will,” Taeyong says, as if he has any control over that.

“And keep my number,” Yuta adds. “I’d be more than happy to see you again.”

“Okay,” Taeyong agrees breathlessly. “Maybe next time you can come visit me.”

Yuta flashes him that dangerous smile of his, so handsome and so blinding as he turns to open the door. “I’d love that.”

[mc-lukanette]

Have you considered writing a "Truth" fix-it with Marinette admitting her secret to Luka? Maybe he could be a confidant like Marianne was for Fu.

Truth was having a terrible, awful, rotten, very bad day. If he could use his powers on the universe, he would've asked what he did to deserve this kind of treatment.

It started with his girlfriend keeping a secret from him concerning her ditching their dates, then escalated to Jagged Stone - who'd been his idol for years - turning out to be the father who abandoned him, and now he was fighting Ladybug and Chat Noir in Marinette's room after he’d been told by multiple people that Marinette’s supposed “secret” was that she was in love with Adrien, as if he hadn’t already known that and they just wanted to mock him.

His civilian self had never been never someone to presume, but now it's all he could do. Marinette must've ditched him because she didn't really love him, Jagged probably never even felt bad about abandoning him, and despite Adrien never even trying to win Marinette's heart, he was just better than Luka in every way, because the rich model with all the connections Marinette could ever want would always outmatch the "guitar boy" who worked a part-time job, lived on a houseboat, and had parents who either kept secrets from him or flat-out didn't want him.

Had it not been for his akumatization working to drive him towards a goal without interference, he would've cried. He wanted nothing more than to wake up and think the whole thing was just a bad nightmare, with dating Marinette just being brief highlights of it that kept getting shot down with a reminder that he wasn't good enough.

He wanted it all to be over.

Chat Noir was still trying to banter with him, but Truth wasn't having it. While going after Ladybug first wasn't ideal, as she was the smarter out of the two, it was easier to get rid of Chat Noir and deal with the heroes one at a time.

Thus, when Ladybug had run across the room to use her Lucky Charm, Truth acted. He managed to grab Chat Noir and throw him into the chest that Ladybug had been hiding in before, then locked it tight to prevent Chat from escaping. That done, he went after Ladybug, who was stunned but nevertheless prepared to fight. Chat Noir being out of the picture didn't impact her ability to fight, but Truth had Pharo on his side to knock Ladybug around when it was too hard to get a spotlight on her.

Finally, he managed to tackle her, her lying on her back and him pinning her arms down. The chest nearby rattled in protest, but Pharo shined its spotlight on it, preventing it from moving anymore.

Truth watched as Ladybug looked around for a method of escape, but she came up empty. Her eyes widened in the realization that... this was it. This was the end.

"Now," Truth said, clamping down harder on her arms as he leaned down, "tell me the truth!"

Ladybug tried to shut her lips tight, but he could see her struggling, her body shaking as she tried to free her arms to stop herself. It was only a matter of time.

Then, her mouth opened, and out came the words, "I love you, Luka!"

He froze, his fingers twitching in his confusion while he could only stare down at her in shock.

"And I'm so sorry! I'm sorry for everything! I wanted to tell you - I always wanted you to know - but I couldn't, and you deserve so much better than a hero who can't give you the time you deserve!"

A cold realization washed over him in form of a shudder. Those words could've been interpreted in so many ways, but he was the only one who registered their real meaning: that Marinette was Ladybug, her "ditching" had been her needing to fight akuma, her keeping secrets had been out of a desire to protect him, and he—

...He had only caused her more problems by getting akumatized, being no better than all those that had interrupted their dates. She loved him, and he gave into Shadow Moth to go against her.

Ladybug continued rambling, oblivious to his internal crisis, "You're incredible, and I just love you so much. I knew you were special from the day we met, when you called me—"

Truth clamped his hand over her mouth, preventing her from spilling any more secrets. He could feel Shadow Moth's influence in his mind, demanding that he remove his hand, but Truth ignored it, just as he'd been ignoring so many of his commands. The energy from akumatization that once made him feel powerful now made him feel disgusted with himself, guilt swirling in his gut and making him regret everything.

He reached up with his other hand, grabbing at his necklace and tearing it off. Ladybug's brows rose at the crunching of his akumatized object, and the last things he saw were the akuma flying free and Ladybug's expression turning to something...

thoughtful.

—————

Marinette de-transformed in a nearby alleyway and headed down towards the Seine, having not yet processed all of her feelings from that day. She had a little time left, given that Luka had quietly asked to walk back home himself, but she’d gotten no closer to clearing her mind since leaving her house. She was still a jumbled mess of "what if"s and "but maybe"s, and ultimately knew that it was going to be a matter of essentially winging it and just saying everything that she had on her mind.

As she approached the Liberty to wait for Luka, she paused as she noticed another figure already standing there. After all, Jagged Stone wasn't exactly someone you could not notice.

Before she could debate on whether to approach him, Jagged seemed to sense her and glanced over to make eye contact. She stiffened, only able to wave awkwardly and pretend like she didn't know why he'd be there.

"Hey, frockstar," Jagged greeted tiredly, his smile not quite reaching its usual lengths. "What are you doing here?"

"Um..." She walked over, standing next to him and staring in the direction where Luka was going to come from. "I need to talk to my boyfriend."

"Ah." It took a few seconds for the words to actually register with him, at which point Jagged turned to her, mouth agape as he grabbed her shoulders. "My son's your boyfriend?!"

She didn't quite have the energy to feign total surprise at the “son” comment, but she didn't have to. Jagged immediately pulled back without really looking at her, regaining his composure just as quickly as he'd lost it.

"You... wouldn't happen to be able to put in a good word for me, hm?" He grinned sheepishly, jabbing at Marinette with a hopeful elbow. "Haven't exactly figured out what I'm gonna say yet."

She was torn between being upset with him on Luka’s behalf and feigning sympathy because it was not only none of her business, but she was in a similar boat and felt like she had no right to judge.

She went with the latter, smiling weakly and jabbing him back. "That makes two of us." Then, she frowned as her nerves came back. "And... anyway, I don't know if he'll want to keep being my boyfriend after tonight."

For once, Jagged didn't pry or ask questions, the atmosphere probably felt even by him. They just stood there, waiting.

After a few minutes, Luka finally walked into view, staring at the ground and seeming defeated. Marinette felt ill at the sight, her fingers clutching at the fabric of her capris to find a sense of stability.

Should she approach him? Let Jagged go first? Or, maybe that would seem evasive, so—

She felt a pat on her shoulder, looking up at see Jagged urging her forward with his eyes. She wasn't sure if she should be grateful or consider him to be the evasive one, but Luka's akumatization was also mostly because of her and thus it only made sense for her to go first.

She ran the distance to get to him, Luka glancing up at the sound of her footsteps and stopping as she got to him. The usual light in his eyes wasn't there, and she had to force herself to even say a simple, "Um... hi."

"Hey." He hesitated, then rubbed the back of his head. "I'm really sorry, Marinette."

"Huh?"

"I got akumatized, and I was in your room when I woke up." His brows furrowed with uncharacteristic anxiety. "I didn't have to hear the song to know what the notes were. I must've gone after you."

Marinette blinked, having not even thought about him feeling guilty over the whole thing. She shook her head, reassuring, "No no! I mean—you told me to run! You didn't go after me, not really!"

She wasn't technically lying; he never sought her out to her knowledge, and even as Ladybug, she'd always had to chase him.

Luka sighed in relief, though his expression didn't change much. "I'm glad."

He met her gaze again. She yearned for the way he used to look at her like he wanted to get lost in her forever, but his eyes soon darted elsewhere as he noticed Jagged Stone standing not too far away.

Marinette tried not to get discouraged, stepping back into his vision and waving her hands to try and divert his attention. "Ah—don't worry about that! Look—" She paused, needing a moment to breathe, then lowered her hands and shifted to seriousness. "Can we talk? And walk? It's... really important."

She couldn't imagine the conclusions he must've been coming to in his head, partly because he didn't voice any of them. His eyes merely searched hers, seeking nothing in particular.

"Sure, Marinette," he agreed.

She managed a smile, happy that she made it this far at least. She reached out to take his hand, but stopped herself at the last second and simply walked past him, Luka taking one look back at Jagged before following after her.

The walk was tense and quiet, the only sounds coming from the evening ambiance and their footsteps. The uncertainty of it all gave her anxiety, but she'd been sure of that uncertainty since she first decided to talk to him about this.

Because, whatever the future of their relationship was, it would be in his hands.

—————

As they arrived at her intended destination, Marinette heard Luka briefly stop behind her, perhaps processing where she just took them. It was the Canal Saint-Martin, also known as the place where they'd first agreed to date, and now it was potentially the place where they'd break up as well. Marinette vaguely pondered if that would be for the best, like the memories would just cancel each other out and Luka could forget about it altogether if he wanted to.

Nevertheless, she walked over, glancing at the bridge for reference and sitting in roughly the same place she’d been all that time ago. She then tossed Luka a hopeful look, and he walked over to sit next to her.

Steeling herself up, Marinette took a breath, inhaling until she couldn't take in any more oxygen and then exhaling for just as long. At least a little more emotionally prepared than she was before, she finally spoke up.

"I...I'm sorry, Luka. I'm sorry that I got you akumatized—" She saw that he was about to interject and cut him off. "—and I know you don't blame me, but it doesn't matter—I mean—it does matter, but I'm still sorry anyway, okay? You had a right to be hurt and maybe if I'd explained myself better, then things would’ve been different."

He still seemed to want to argue, but was holding himself back so she could continue, which she appreciated.

"It's not that I didn't trust you. If anything, I—I trust you more than anyone else. You've never betrayed me and I know you'd never tell anyone if I told you my secret. You understand me even when I'm being the disaster that everyone laughs at - everyone but you - and..."

She sighed, pulling out her phone and navigating to her text conversation with him. Mentally wincing, she tapped on the photo of her Adrien wall that Ziggy had sent, then presented it to him. He leaned in to make sure of what it was, then looked back at her, clearly not understanding where she was going but knowing it wasn't her being spiteful or rubbing it in.

She said as much, "You don't assume anything, like when you got sent this dumb picture. I know it was obvious that it was an accident, but you didn’t have to go with it and you did. I wouldn't have blamed you if you got mad, but you didn't. Whenever I'm stammering and being an idiot because I'm scared or nervous, you don't judge me for it or think that whatever comes out is what I actually mean. That's so important to me, Luka, you have no idea."

She settled the phone between them and kept the picture on-screen. Her gaze flickered down to it, silently encouraging him to look at it too, then glanced back up at him.

"How much do you know about fashion?"

He tilted his head, thrown off by the sudden question, but answered anyway, "Only what my sister's ever talked about."

"Do you know why fashion trends die so quickly?" When he shook his head, she explained, "Part of it is the over-exposure. When people hear about what's in at the time, suddenly everyone starts wearing whatever it is, so everywhere you look, you see it, and then people get tired of it."

There was a flicker of understanding in his eyes, Luka looking back-and-forth between her and the phone like he was piecing a puzzle together.

She confirmed it for him, "That's why I have so many. I don't feel that way about him anymore - I don't think I ever did - but I just don't know how to act around him. I hate how the whole idolizing thing took over my life and I already tried everything else, so I figured this might work." She groaned. "And of course it blew up on me and you got sent that without any context. Of course."

He gave a look of concern at the exasperation in her tone, but she tried to ignore it, not wanting his sympathy.

"My point is..." She gestured vaguely at the phone. "I stammer about him, but it's not because I'm in love with him, it's because I've never really been his friend and I don't know how to do it. I'm not dedicated to him and I'm getting better at not doing the stuff I used to."

His eyes flickered again and she wondered if he was thinking about that day on the Liberty where she was late to Kitty Section playing, where she ignored Adrien entirely. Just for emphasis, she tapped her phone and deleted the picture, adding on, "I'm only dedicated to you, Luka. I—"

She shifted in place, hitting the wall behind her feet a few times with her heels to ease off the anxiousness. It was so much easier when she’d been Ladybug, though granted that she was under the influence of Truth's spell at the time. She and Luka were dating, yet she was sure he'd ask her to end it, making putting herself out there all the scarier.

"I..." She met his gaze. "I love you." He gaped at the confession and she continued on, "I love you like I haven't loved anyone else before; definitely not Adrien. It's the kind of love that actually makes me happy, and comfortable, and my life is better with you in it."

She bit her bottom lip, hands curling into fists at the tight feeling in her chest. She turned, placing one hand on the ground as she began to push herself up, her other hand landing on Luka's shoulder to wordlessly insist that he didn't have to stand with her, so his gaze merely followed her as she moved.

"But that's the thing." She took a few steps away, back turned to him as she stared up at the sky. Her stomach twisted itself in knots at the words in her throat, but she nonetheless admitted, "I don't think it's mutual."

Luka's voice took on a sharp, offended tone. "Marinette—"

She spun to face him, cutting him off, "—and I know that you're going to say something sweet and heartfelt about how everyone has a place in your life and then something about how bad notes can still make good songs, but... Luka, you don't understand."

She turned away from him again, this time pacing as she counted off events. "Bullies and liars target me, and sometimes that means going after people I care about. I'm clumsy and a stuttering mess and you wouldn't believe the mistakes I made that I couldn't have even seen coming. It seems like I draw bad luck wherever I go; I mean, your mother is one of the most chaotic people I can think of, so you'd think she'd get akumatized a bunch, but it was only the day I showed up that she did. Even the other boys who only loved me for a little bit either got akumatized over it or became an anxious mess until they found out who they actually liked, and that last one would've at least been really useful to think about if I'd just made the connection back then, but I didn't!" She paused, then met his eyes with a pained expression. "And then there's you."

"What do you mean?"

She stopped in place, not knowing whether to be touched or not by the fact that he either hadn't noticed or was pretending not to. Throwing her arms out, she explained, "Things go bad whenever we hang out! I already mentioned your mom, but then there was the ice rink; even without me getting distracted when all you were trying to do was make me feel better, there was an akuma and you probably got frozen solid by him. When we were hanging out on the Liberty, Adrien just happened to show up on that day with Kagami to turn me into a mess, and then Desperada came to make everything worse."

Marinette couldn't remember when she'd started thinking about such things or feeling guilty for everything that ever happened. There was just a point where it felt like she was always apologizing for something, no matter how small it was, and stuff being her fault became par for the course by then.

"Then, both times you got akumatized, it was because of me—and I know you don't blame me, but I'm always involved! You were ready to leave the TV station, but because I tried to put up a fight, Bob Roth threatened me and that was your last straw. Today was the same thing; you were already upset about what happened with your dad and then it was me who sent you over the edge!" She shut her eyes tight, the memories painful to relive. "You're always putting up with me, Luka. You put up with me crying all over you and even dropped your guitar for it, and then you had to protect me from Miracle Queen's mind control! I'm supposed to protect you!"

He recoiled at the volume of her voice, then furrowed his brows, his eyes darting back and forth as he seemed to process something particular about what she said.

"I'm supposed to make you happy, and I can't. Out of all the people in Paris who should be able to keep you from getting akumatized, it should be me, and all I've done is hurt you. You're the calmest person I've ever known and then I came along and gave you feelings you didn't ask for. Sometimes—" She shook, choking briefly on the words. "Sometimes I wonder if it would've been better for you if you never met me."

Luka's gaze sharpened. He didn't reply, but turned fully to her, pushing himself up as if to approach.

However, she stepped back, his look then flashing to hurt. She took a breath, expression determined as she said with her whole chest, "I'm Ladybug, Luka."

He froze, his body going stiff and his eyes blinking rapidly at either the reveal itself or the way she’d so firmly said it.

"I'm Ladybug," she repeated quietly, this time with an ache in her voice, "and I'm telling you not because I trust you—I mean, I do trust you—but I also believe in you; that you wouldn't sell me out to Shadow Moth even with all the mind control in the world. You've always had my back and supported me even when I didn't deserve it, and I want you to know. It's dangerous and I don't know what'll happen and I'm scared but I want you to know it." She put a hand to her chest. "I'm the one who has to save Paris whenever something happens, and that's why I always had to ditch you. I'm the one who messed up and lost you your identity as Viperion. I'm the new guardian of the miraculouses, and the kwami don't even listen to me; they invaded my privacy and it was one of them that took and sent you that picture."

She realized that her vision was staring to blur and looked skywards, trying to fight back tears.

"I-I'm not a normal girl. I can't be a normal girlfriend, or give you everything you'd want out of a normal relationship. It's my fault that you got akumatized because I just—I wanted you. I wanted to be in a relationship and go on dates with you, but Ladybug isn't supposed to want things. She's supposed to be selfless and only worry about everyone else, but... you made me happy, and I wanted more of that. You were the first person I really felt like I could be myself around without being scolded or lied to and I thought it would be okay..."

She noticed him moving and quickly turned her back to him, at least able to let the tears fall now without him seeing them.

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this. I always think I can handle things but then it goes wrong and I end up hurting people. If I'd just gone home the day of the music festival instead of complaining about Adrien not being around, then none of this would've happened." She sighed in frustration, wiping her eyes clean of tears, and she was so focused on forcing her words out that she didn't hear the footsteps coming from behind her. "I-it's okay if you want to break up, Luka. It wasn't fair that I kept you in the dark, and I understand if you're mad, or you want to date other people, o-or if you don't love me anymore—"

Her voice cut off with a gasp as a pair of arms wrapped around her midsection, pulling her against a familiar, warm chest that had an unfamiliarly pounding heartbeat. She tried to look up at him, but his hair was shadowing out his eyes and left only his trembling lips visible. In fact, his whole body was shaking, as if it were winter and no amount of layers could keep him warm.

"L-luka?" she called, confused.

"Stop," he begged quietly, the hug tightening briefly to give her a squeeze. "Please."

"But..." She trailed off, acknowledging the request. She'd never heard his voice just break like that.

"You've already sung your part of our duet, Marinette. Now it's my turn." He paused, taking an unsteady breath before continuing, "I'm glad you told me your secret. I know you're worried about me being in danger, but it makes me happy that you can rely on me now. Music boxes aren't meant to stay shut, and you deserve someone who you can open up to, even if I hate that you have to mute yourself in the first place to keep everyone safe."

She opened her mouth, wanting to say that it was okay and it was just her job, but kept quiet to respect his earlier request.

"My life isn't worse because I met you," he murmured, an unspoken plea in his tone that told her to never think that way again. "I felt things with you that I never have before. My song started out as a flatline, then we met and you made it move. Music isn't exciting if it doesn't change but you did that for me. What you might see as bad notes is my passion for you, and I won't apologize for it or make you apologize for messing up just like every person does. I'd never wanted someone before you, and even if you never wanted to date me, I'm grateful that I got to know you; to fall for you."

Marinette blinked in an attempt to stop oncoming tears, Luka pulling her closer for comfort when she whimpered.

"All that mattered to me is when we were together, just the two of us. That's when your melody plays the clearest and when I get to see you. Those two weeks when we were preparing our music video were some of the best two weeks of my life because I got to see you in your element. I've accepted every break in the tempo because I've heard you, I've heard the Marinette you've wanted to be, and I want to be there for every beat of it." Then, he exhaled, adding with a somber tone, "I can't imagine how much pressure you must be under, or how awful things are and how impossible it must be to sing when you can't even take a breath without something going wrong. I just... I want to help you be happy. I don't care what you, your kwami, or anyone else says; you're allowed to be happy, Marinette, and I'd drop a thousand of my guitars if it meant that you get to play happy notes one more time."

She let out a sob, blushing pink as her hands unconsciously raised to rest on the ones around her waist, Luka sighing in content and nestling further against her.

"So I don't want to break up with you, Marinette. Not at all. I just want to find ways to make it easier on you - on both of us - and if that means finding ways of planning our dates around akuma attacks, or not planning at all and going wherever the rhythm leads, then that's what we'll do."

She tried to keep quiet, but couldn't help voicing, "W-what if... what if it doesn't work? What if I have to bail on you every now and then? People will think—"

"I was never worried about that," he retorted immediately. "I'm a Couffaine. My clothes are ripped, I carry my guitar in the basket on my bike, and I live on a boat. I stopped caring about what people thought a long time ago."

He was unbelievable. Marinette didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she did both. He just held her there, his heart still beating against her back but now serving as something to calm her.

"The only opinions that matter in our duet are yours and mine," he said. His hold loosened, though hesitating like it was physically painful to release her. He let her go nonetheless and held his hands out in front of her, palms facing the sky. "So what about you, Marinette?"

She stared at his hands, then slowly raised her own to hover over them. She breathed up, then slid her fingers across his palms until their calloused fingertips met, neither making any move to pull away.

"I...I want to make it work," she whispered, leaning back against him. "I want to be with you, Luka. I'm at my best when I'm with you. I just..."

She stopped, knowing that he would have an argument for anything she said. If she apologized for the failed dates that she can never fix, he'd argue that it'd be worse to leave things off a sour note, and that not every good song starts out good. If she tried to suggest other people for him to date or imply that it'd be easier with someone else, he'd say that his guitar plays only for her and he wouldn't change that even if he could.

"...I'm sorry," she said, smiling her first genuine smile of the night. "I won't doubt myself anymore."

Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was smiling too. "Do you feel better?"

"Yeah. Do—do you?"

"Yeah," he replied, voice thick with emotion.

Wanting to see his face, she slowly dropped their hands and turned to face him, silently hoping that she didn't look awful from her earlier tears. However, to her surprise, she noticed that Luka's eyes were watery despite his smile, just like her. Realizing something, she raised a hand to her shoulder, where his face had been hovering over ever since he'd hugged her from behind.

It was wet.

"Oh, Luka..."

She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him against her. He returned the gesture, squeezing her lovingly and giving her back a few rubs that she responded to with a happy hum. They held the position, the warmth of the hug completely negating the slight chill of the night air.

Even when they pulled away, it wasn't far nor for long. Marinette wasn't sure which of them initiated it, but one moment they were staring at each other and the next they were kissing. It had been long overdue and she idly thought that it was better than she would've imagined their kiss at the cinema to be.

She breathed in his scent, her fingers blindly reaching up to slide into his hair. She almost felt like crying again, though this time in relief that everything had actually worked out for once and they were kissing without interruption. Even though Luka was more subtle in showing his emotions, she could tell that he felt the same from the way his hand on her back shook, practically vibrating with happiness.

The kiss eventually broke with a soft click, though she kept her hands on him for the sake of stability. They were both breathing a little hard from the emotional toll of the conversation yet not necessarily in a bad way.

And the love in his eyes - the life that she missed so much - was back. She honestly thought she wouldn’t have seen it again and she was tempted to just keep kissing him in relief, part of her aware that he definitely wouldn’t have minded it.

It took her a few tries to get the words out, hesitant to break up their wordless exchanges of love. She knew what revelation was waiting for Luka back at his houseboat - maybe he'd already guessed it - and she wanted to be there for him, so she asked carefully, "Do you... want me to come back to the Liberty with you?"

Eyes half-lidded, he gave her a soft smile and gently squeezed her hand. "Yeah. Do you want to sleep over?"

She nodded. "Mm, I'd like that."

Holding hands, they began making their way back to the Liberty, the ambiance of the night finally coming through to soothe them. Marinette glanced down at their joined hands, then at the wide smile on Luka's face, the latter clearly caused by the former.

She looked ahead at where they were walking, pretending that she hadn't just been admiring him. "We could always go out for breakfast together. That might work out."

"That sounds amazing." Luka feigned a look of thoughtfulness. "Maybe Shadow Moth doesn't like mornings?"

Marinette squeaked mid-giggle. "You'd think that'd be the case from the name, huh?"

He chuckled, covering his mouth with his free hand, and the conversation remained light from there. Any bad feelings from the day had evaporated, leaving only smiles and hope for the future in its place.

Everything was going to be okay. For once, Marinette could truly believe that.