#don't come for me I also sobbed drawing this
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inpolariis · 1 year ago
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Resentment
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zukkaoru · 11 months ago
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the disparity in kudos between a skk fic and a fic for literally any other bsd characters/ship :/
#like okay i get it skk is the most popular bsd ship by a longshot#but it does kinda suck that my skk fics will always end up being more popular than literally anything else i write for bsd#when i have way better fics tbh#okay i'm unleashing this from my drafts lol#like i get it kudos/hits/bookmarks counts aren't telling of how good a fic is#but out of my last five fics. my skk one has ONE HUNDRED kudos more than the next most kudos#and idk it also sucks that i know my skk is better than 90% of the fandom but. even my skk fics get significantly less kudos/etc#than big writers in the fandom who AREN'T EVEN GOOD#or are like. mid at best#i know in theory that the bsd fandom doesn't care about characterization but like. not only do they encourage bad characterization#it feels like sometimes they're actively against good characterization#even in j.jk and a.tla where there are major issues with bad characterization#more people seem to at least appreciate the good characterization. (even if they aren't good at it themselves.)#but i swear to god no one in the bsd fandom cares about anything besides whether dazai and chuuya are kissing. it begins and ends there.#it never ceases to amaze me (derogatory) how a fandom where the source media draws So Much inspiration from classic literature#can somehow have NEGATIVE media literacy skills#why don't you guys take a break from your edgy dazai x softboy chuuya fics and you fems.kk with dazai in skimpy clothes and your#beast chuuya sobbing and killing himself over dazai's death#and go read some of the books by the actual authors. and then write me an essay about the themes that has nothing to do with shipping.#and THEN you can come back to the fandom.#listen i love skk but oh my god sometimes the fandom makes me hate them.#anyway one of these days i'm going to get anon hate for complaining about the bsd fandom so much but that's fine#at least i know there are characters in the show besides dazai and chuuya. and when i do write skk AT LEAST I DO IT RIGHT.#hello grace here
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non-un-topo · 1 year ago
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When you get hit by a random powerful wave of nostalgia for like your first fandom ever
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suhtorus · 3 months ago
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mama's day. gojo satoru
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fluff. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ parents au, non sorcerer au, mom!reader, family fluff, two unnamed sons and one baby girl. a little gift for myself ! ᡣ𐭩
little sunshines au
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satoru has a plan for your birthday—a very detailed one.
step one. wake up the nuggets
it takes him less than two minutes to get the oldest out of bed, and there's really no point in waking up his baby girl since there's not much an eight-month-old can do.
the problem is your toddler.
"c'moooon, don't you wanna give mama her gifts?"
satoru's tone grows exasperated the longer his son refuses to cooperate, kicking his legs and throwing his nemo plushie at his face.
"no!"
the five-year-old immediately shushes his baby brother, only making the latter whine even more, tears now running down his chubby cheeks.
satoru feels his face fall upon seeing his son so upset, he should've expected the little ones not to take it too well to be woken up at six in the morning.
"hey," he tries softly this time, caressing the soft blond hairs of his toddler, "I'm sorry, mochi. can you forgive papa? go back to sleep, I'll wake you up when breakfast is ready, okay?"
the sobs end and now there's only small sniffles coming from the sleepy kid.
"oki."
step two. make breakfast
"like this?"
satoru leans down to inspect his son's work, brows furrowing as he tries, and fails, to read whatever gibberish his son tried to spell on top of the freshly made waffles.
with a loud smooch on the kid's cheek, satoru squeezes him in a tight hug, grinning proudly the way a father would. "a masterpiece. mama's gonna love it."
dad and son work surprisingly silent, focused on their own tasks. it doesn't take them long to have plates full of food and fruits, as well as freshly made juice.
"why don't you grab these," satoru hands his son two bags with the names of expensive brands on them, "while I go get your siblings. okay?"
"on it!"
step three. gifts
"happy birthday, mama~"
"ma-ma!"
you wake up with a start, surrounded by four pairs of blue eyes staring down at you.
"happy birthday, love of my life, mother of my kids, my one and only!"
satoru pecks your mouth as your brain processes the beaming faces of your three nuggets. your boys sit next to you, one on each side, while satoru holds the baby in the air right above your face.
your confused face finally eases into one of happiness (and relief).
"thank you, my little babies!" you smile drowsily, urging yourself to blink the sleep away as you smooch the faces of all three of your children. "mwah, mwah, mwahhh–"
your husband can't help but smile upon seeing you smothering the kids with kisses. and with his hold still on his baby girl, satoru tugs her away from you and nods at your lap.
"open your gifts, baby. we got you aaaall of your favorites." he winks at his son and the little one covers his mouth behind his tiny hand, giggling. "and we also made breakfast for mama, right?"
with a pointed look from satoru, your toddler remembers the plate of food on his lap.
"eat waffu, baby." your two-year-old offers you the plate full of waffles, pushing it towards your mouth, insistent. "eat it."
step four. spoil her rotten
your two boys happily run across the gardens while your baby girl crawls on the grass, squealing right behind her brothers.
"liked the surprise?"
your husband's arms wrap around your middle from behind. his hold is the greatest comfort you could've asked for.
"you mean waking up with three of your clones staring down at me while I sleep?" you snort, but there's no real bite in your tone. "I loved it. especially their drawing of me surrounded by blue-eyed mochi."
your eldest had insisted on drawing their little family—with you right in the center—and satoru thought it'd be funny to add the mochi instead of the kids.
"oh, but I'm not done yet, sweetheart." he spins you around in his arms, now grinning at you. "an entire weekend. you and me. what do you say?"
a groan slips past your lips and he immediately frowns, indignation clear on his face.
"c'mon, pretty. it's been a while since it was just the two of us." satoru goes for the puppy eyes, knowing that by doing so he already has a fifty percent of chance of winning. "you're not only a mother, but also a wife. let your doting husband pamper you."
"and who's watching over the kids? the baby??" you try to reason, glancing at your nuggets as they giggle their little hearts out as they play together. "satoru, we can't just leave."
"sweetheart, relaaaaax. ijichi got us covered."
oh, that poor man.
you make a mental note to give nanami a call.
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yuriyuruandyuraart · 2 years ago
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that's it i'm officially DEAD and in tears omg zu.. oh my GOD zu omg i'm i can't even TYPE i'm shaking so hard it's so!!!! i'm so!!! ahjgzdyhagahgfd ZUUUUUU<33333
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Happy birthday @yuriyuruandyuraart! ◟(๑•͈ᴗ•͈)◞
Ribbon (pink!Cross) & Buns (pink!Killer) by yuriyuruandyuraart respectively ;3
Cross from xtaleunderverse by jakei95
Killer by rahafwabas / rahaf-wabas / rahofy-sketch
+ the transparent one ehehe <3
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#reblog#other's art#buns#ribbons#fanart#and oh my god you drew me fanart oh my god oh m#i JUMPED when i saw this like LITERALLY almost fell out of seat good GOSH#i had to shake myself cause i couldn't even see the piece clearly without tears blurring my vision aughghg ZUUU#i'm i can't stop CRYING your words mean SO!!!! MUCH!!!!!#how can you even say these things when i've known you were literally the dictionary definition of a kindhearted bean#literally before my blog was even MADE like come ON zu#and hearing you say you planned to draw my babies?? for years??? a knife in the chest wouldn't make me cry as hard as that#this day was already getting better and better but now it's just beyond perfect hhgjgf ZU zu zu hear me out#the tags under your art aren't for funsies they're a NECESSITY#if i have to go insane over those intricate tiny details then so do YOU!!! and you WILL hear me sobbing about it or i will perish#i can't believe how many people think i'm energetic hhh i'm literally so tired all the time xD#i am enthusiastic when it comes to art and characters tho!! like i'm unhinged about YOUR art you sweet sweet little goose<333#it almost looks as if buns is escaping from his panel into the dashboard and AGYGGYGU i CAN'T zu i can't i can't#CRYIINNG over your pose waaa it looks so ALIVE and interesting and and and!!!!!!!!#SO pleasing to look at :'((( don't get me STAAARTED on your anatomy i don't wanna type up an essay#but also who am i kidding LOOOK AT THE BOOTS!!!! THE LEGS!!!!! THE LITTLE PERFECT HANDSSS AND THE BAND-AIDS#and the expressionss your beautiful stunning expressions...lemme steal your lineart please please please???#this is so good i genuinely feel my lungs constricting trying not to sob my eyes out goooosh zu- you have no idea how cool you are huh#what else can i SAY when i can barely see the screen i'm just. SO happy :')c#seeing my designs in your style is such a pleasure i literally couldn't ask for anything better for my birthday<3333#i love this i love you and you art sm muah muah thank you thank you THANK YOU#amazing art<3333
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hazelnutsummer · 3 months ago
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YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND NOBODY UNDERSTANDS AERRGRGGG
Madoka Magika AU Desert Duo. At first this is simply a gag to draw Scar in Madoka’s dress but the more I think about it the worse it gets.
Warning for Puella Magi Madoka Magika spoilers:
Martyn once mentioned a theory that Watchers feed off human emotions, and you know who also feeds off energy generated by humans?? KYUBEY FROM MADOKA!!!
Allow me to reiterate. Kyubeys are produced without emotions as a high functioning high intelligence species, but Grian is produced as a flawed piece, one with human emotions. He hides it well enough for years, before one of his mission like many others is to make magical girls/mages.
It all goes south when the girl he tries to make the deal with (supposed to be on the brink of death) was actually rescued by Scar, who is a very strong and passionate passerby that literally lifted up the rubble long enough to keep her alive.
Situation goes terribly wrong. Essentially, some accidents happen, and Grian who was supposed to make a contract with a teenage girl made a contract with SCAR, HUMAN ADULT GUY!!!!
And Grian is stuck in this contract because Scar jokingly made his wish for Grian to become a human, and Grian is stuck as a kyubey (watcher in this case) turned human. He still have majority of his watcher powers, but is now painfully mortal.
Grian leaves Scar instantly, without telling him what being a magical girl entails, absolutely furious that he has been doomed to this fate. Despite now knowing the fact that Watchers are evil, he cannot help but feel guilty for permanently turning Grian human, and is unfortunately Down Bad the moment he sees Grian’s human form..
Scar, being left with 0 instructions, began doing superhero work around the community, fighting crimes and helping old ladies cross the road.
They meet again when Scar wanders into his first witches’ labyrinth, where Grian saw him and followed him in, with the intention to get Scar killed in there! Surely if he kills Scar, this might be reversed!!
Scar, however, exceeds expectations, slaying the witch and expelling the labyrinth. After exiting, Scar instead of trying to harm Grian, his guilty ass decided to invite Grian to live with him.
Grian and Scar begin living together. They meet different magical girls, work together and discover more about the world. And eventually Grian learns how to be a mortal and has plans on severing his connections to kyubei.
But you know how madoka goes…
Walpurgis occurs, and Grian watches in powerless horror as Scar dies before his eyes. In his last moments, Scar tells Grian he doesn’t regret what he’s done, but he does wish that he could go back in time so as to save everyone and not end in tragedy. Grian clutches Scar’s hand, holding it close to his sobbing mess of a face and in his mind, a genius idea comes to him:
If he is human now, does that mean he can abuse this system and become a magical girl/mage himself?
And Homura Grian & Madoka Scar occurs.
Grian goes back in time to prevent Scar’s death. Scar still becomes a magical girl, but somehow history changes and he is in contract with another kyubey/watcher (evil jellie) and Grian utilises his very limited amount of human behaviour knowledge and tries to become friends with him again, this time being a human from the start. They go to the same uni now, and Scar does see G’s weird habits but decided that’s just how British people behave.
Doomed yaoi.
In lieu of the affected timelines, even though magical girl Scar is supposed to look like the watcher he makes the deal with, he doesn’t look like Evil Jellie, and instead retains his avian aesthetic from before Grian rewound time.
Ps: check out the new au master post!!
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luminatricky · 2 months ago
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Vampire? In Gotham! (part 3)
Summary: the batfam have a meeting, Constantine got a little too lost in the sauce when crafting Danny's sob story, and we find out what Dracula's been up to all these years. Oh and the DC version of Vlad is fully dead? More at 9
Relationships: the batfam
on god I spent too much time thinking about danny's vampsona. he's got two outfits so far. no I didn't make a concept board. no I didn't make a picrew. I don't know what you're talking about
(sorry if this is all horribly ooc I struggled a bit with making this intelligible)
Red Hood doesn't usually leave Crime Alley. That's a known fact. But Batman doesn't usually call a meeting that includes Red Hood. The old man learned years ago not to involve him unless it's important with a capitol I.
Pulling into the Batcave, Jason slows to a stop on his motorcycle. He follows the voices of his family to the Batcomputer. Everyone is in full gear, but not everyone is fully present.
Dickhead was ransacking the medical room for...blood bags? Barbie and Replacement carved out a corner to the right of the main computer. They'd set up a foldable table for their personal laptops, sitting side by side as they quietly schemed together. Damian was working hard on some sort of artwork with a similar table to the left. He stuck his tongue out in concentration. Adorable.
Bruce was pulling up a very old case file in the central system. It looked to be a string of serial disappearances.
Jason wasn't the last to arrive for once. The elevator to the manor dings behind him. Alfred and the rest of the brood step out into the cave, carrying weapons and gadgets by the armful. Old looking Batarangs, glorified flashlights, cases upon cases of the anti-toxin epipens filled with unfamiliar blue formula. And wooden stakes.
Like a good grandson he steps up to help lighten Alfred's load, but he only gets two steps in before the old butler gives him a very disapproving eyebrow raise. Jason retreats with his hands up. He turns back to Bruce.
"This better be a bloodsucker apocalypse or you won't see me til Christmas."
Bruce pulls up a detailed list of the weapons and their uses on screen. Everyone stops what their doing and takes a picture with their phones. Garlic Batarangs, flashlights with artificial sunlight, a cure for vampirism. Wooden stakes need no introduction or explanation, except for why his dad - who is very against killing to put it fucking gently - would be giving them a vamp equivalent of a gun.
"Potentially," Bruce says. "We need to draw up new contingencies. But we also need to debrief so we have all the facts to do so."
Surprisingly, both Duke AND Tim groan. Jason understands Duke. The teen does not have the patience - ahem, attention - to learn all the contingencies at once. Which Bruce recently subjected him to from what he's gleaned from the sibling group chat.
But Tim? Making and learning ridiculous lists is the guy's bread and butter, the freak. So why -
"C'mon Bruce. What we know so far about the guy makes it seem he might be genuine. We do not have to plan a murder yet. Murder is messy - and wrong, definitely wrong." Tim tacks the last part on way too quickly for anyone here to believe that's what he actually feels. Hah. Another one straying off the path of the No Kill Rule. He can't wait to hear the details when one of their siblings interrogates him about it later.
Bruce exhales through his nose. He puts the previous topic away in favor of pulling up a picture of a middle-aged man with glacial blue eyes. His face is long and angular, and he wears old style European clothes that screams 'I'm an old rich vampire, come stake me'. Jason snorts - something about his face is so punchable.
"Dr. Alucard seemed genuine at first, too." He pulls up a picture of the same man, but this time with sunken in cheek bones. His salt and pepper hair is fully bleached, and his eyes glow unnervingly. It's a candid of him mid-fight in the Batcave, a furious snarl on his lips, baring some wicked fangs at a young Batman. "Or should I say, Dracula." He's answered with a round of gasps.
Jason's starting to see how every single one of them ended up as (melo)dramatic little shits.
He puts the pictures away. "Around the time when I was first starting out, the Penguin accidentally freed him from where he was sealed in Gotham's cemetery." Bruce begins. Jason wonders with a tight chest just what was wrong with that place. Why do the dead keep coming back to life there?
If he had a nickel...
Bruce pulls up the headlines of the 'Lost Ones' case. Jason opens his mouth to comment, but Dick beats him to it. "They seriously thought it was Batman? C'mon! How incompetent is the GCPD?"
Jason scoffs. "Says the fucking cop."
"Ex-cop, thank you. And I worked in Bludhaven before I figured out they were just as corrupted and rooting that out from the inside was a terrible plan."
"Anyone coulda told you that," Duke snarks. Jason backs him up. "Your problem is you always want to give people the benefit of the doubt when you shouldn't."
"Boys." Bruce interrupts. They all stop at the tone he uses. Alfred clears his throat, and answers Dick's rhetorical question from earlier. "That was unfortunately a common occurrence when Master B was a young bat. It would do you all well to be mindful of keeping your reputations positive amidst suspicion."
Jason doesn't laugh out of respect for Alfred - he was so not talking about him. He needs to do the opposite of spit rainbows out his ass to be effective.
"Oh my God is that why Bruce keeps gatekeeping everyone he meets? He's hazing them like a vigilante initiation ritual?" Steph whispers to Cass. He hears her softly laugh in response as she nods.
"I agree with Grayson. The GCPD are fools to think that if Father were a serial killer or trafficker that they'd ever even know. He is better than that." The demon brat brags.
Bruce huffs fondly. "It's a good thing I'm not." He gestures to the weapons. "We fought. He'd started turning people left and right, making them mind controlled vampire pawns. The Joker got turned-"
Jason's vision floods green. "And you didn't fucking stake him? Even more fucking dangerous -"
"-and I managed to capture him at a blood bank before he could do more than destruction of private property." Bruce raises his voice over him. Jason clenches and unclenches his fists. He itches to shoot something, to break something, to get relief to this God forsaken green-flavored, rage-filled pressure starting to boil over in his chest at the reminder of his murderer.
Blessedly everyone shuts the fuck up as he tries to not blow his top. Bruce should've staked him. He had the perfect excuse all lined up, and the opportunity, and goddamit Barbara wouldn't be in a wheelchair and Duke's parents would be fine and Jason wouldn't have come back evil -
Bruce isn't and wasn't evil, he reminds himself. Not like Jason is. And it's not helpful to blame him for his nature right now when they need to fucking debrief. Woulda-coulda-shoulda's are for chumps.
When he blinks back the green, shoved it down to where it's there but managed, his family haven't moved an inch from where they had been. It's a small but meaningful relief to see that they hadn't taken defensive positions like they would've in the past. They just untensed as Jason's arms stopped trembling from supernatural rage.
No one calls attention to his near-episode further, and he's grateful. "I took him back to the cave. With his blood samples I managed to create a cure for the thralls. They all went back to their everyday lives without any memories of what happened. Joker is no exception."
Which is code for, 'I found a reason to bypass normal ethics and experiment on the Joker for the greater good and yes I still remember which cell he was in. It was the highlight of that week.' It makes him feel marginally better and worse in equal measure. Where the fuck was that energy when he kicked the bucket? (Superman, was where. They already had this conversation)
"At that time Wayne Enterprises had been taking it's first steps into solar energy. When Dracula invaded the cave, we were able to survive due to the stored sunlight that the proto-type gathered."
"Wait. No, wait. Hold on. The urn on the fireplace? Please tell me that's a grandma we don't talk about." Duke pleads. "Please. It's not Kentucky Fried Vampire. Please."
When Bruce doesn't say anything for way too long, Steph nearly chokes on trying to hold back her laughter. Alfred clears his throat. "Batman was rather hurt after the altercation. And Dr. Alucard was rather rude in how he barged in - uninvited! I found it suitable that if he insisted on destroying the decorations, that he should contribute."
Steph full out cannot stop once it begins. Everyone else stares dumbfounded either at Bruce or Alfred. Dick looks like he's about to have an aneurysm. Duke is regretting his life decisions, probably the ones about joining this family. Damian is not comprehending the issue with any of this, expecting a follow up anytime soon. Cass shakes her head, but Jason hears a quiet "grandma dracula is disappointed".
He doesn't know how to feel other than dear Lord please he cannot laugh. No matter how absurd this is. He sounds ridiculous in his helmet.
"...leaving the ashes unattended would spell disaster in the wrong hands," Bruce clarifies once the giggles fall away, "Dracula kidnapped Vicky Vale to use her soul in resurrecting his wife from her ashes. Letting Alfred hide it in plain sight didn't sound like a bad enough idea to try to stop him."
"Precisely, Master Bruce." The butler approves.
"Damn. That's just cold." Dick remarks. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his free arm. "I would ask what the hell he deserved that for but he's literally an ancient evil vampire, so." His older brother jostles the blood bags he's cradling. "Hopefully this guy's an unrelated friendly."
Duke whines in the back of his throat. Jason squeezes his shoulder in sympathy.
"Tonight?" Cass redirects.
"Tonight I came across the unknown on our usual route. I had Robin stay back when I spotted him a distance away. He'd been running across rooftops, watching the people below. I followed for half a block before he walked down the side of a building and into an alley right on the border of Park Row."
"Crime Alley." Jason corrects.
"Crime Alley," Bruce amends. "Once there, he paused for a moment, searching the crowds for something. He took out a clear canister filled with a dark red liquid. It had the same viscosity as blood."
"Where's he getting the blood from? There hasn't been anymore blood bank robberies, attempted or otherwise. And no one's turned up with weird wounds, dead or alive." Steph pipes up. Babs lifts her hand up as she adds her two cents. "Unlessss, mystery teeth here is using the same tactic Drac did. If he's just arriving then we shouldn't be noticing anything just yet."
Bruce holds up a gloved finger in a 'I wasn't done' gesture. "When I approached, the unknown claimed that the canister was a synthesizer when asked. I couldn't detect any lie in his body language or voice. He then introduced himself as 'Dante Nightingale', but asked to be called Danny, which either means he's a modern vampire or an old one who is familiar with the times. I then confronted him about stalking humans from an alleyway. He revealed intel that will be worrying if confirmed."
Jason hums. "Sounds like this guy might not be the supernatural flavor of creep, at least," he mutters under his breath.
Tim raises his hand next. "From what B told me earlier, Danny said that there was some weird ghostly-doppelganger-vampire activity that our suspect hasn't seen before. The behavior, not the creatures." Tim pushes up his blue light glasses as he takes a breath. "Anyways. The info on Shades checks out. The JLD records told me all about them. Show of hands if anyone's seen Appalachia Tik Tok?"
Oh Jason doesn't like where this is going. Alfred (surprisingly), Cass, Dick, Babs, Steph, and Duke all put their hands up too.
Tim goes on. "The mimics? Shades are like that, but with a life force sucking aspect. They're basically ghosts who never were alive and didn't form right, so they eat human emotions until they become fully sentient ghosts called Specters. In a really creepy 'I'm going to replace you' way. So. Bad stuff."
Jason shivers when Bruce nods. "Nightingale claims that they're walking the streets in unusual numbers. That he had just arrived and in Gotham and that he was exploring tonight when he noticed something off."
"Ohhhhkay! Just what we needed, yeah? Invisible monsters in Gotham!" Dick says. "Quick, scratch that off the bingo."
Tim rolls his eyes. "Do we have a description? Power set, background check? I need everything I can to narrow down which type of vamp in the database." He's tapping away at his laptop again, not looking up as he types.
Bruce motions for Damian to come closer. The demon brat hands off the artwork he'd been quietly working on as they talked. Bruce observes it, before nodding at where Damian stands at attention like a good little soldier. Damian preens.
Jason blinks away the green.
Their dad scans the sheet with a device, and the image pops up on the main computer. The man in the portrait has pale skin - obviously. Fangs - no duh. Although notably shaped differently from Drac's. Claws a good few inches long and white in color. Jason spies an interesting ring. It's crown shaped and encased in fake(?) ice. Freckles on his rounder face, framed by wispy-looking stark white hair. Skeleton earrings, black turtleneck, a white blouse with a ridiculously low vee neck tucked into green pants. A delicate chain in the shape of a spiderweb wraps around his covered throat in a pleasing contrast.
The man's eyes are a hauntingly familiar shade of green. He sees it often.
The pupils glow a lighter hue of lazarus, shaped like four-pointed stars. Jason would say the guy looks more like a fae took a dip in the Pits than bloodsucker. But what does he know? Guy didn't deny the blood drinking accusations for fuck's sake.
Babs jumps in again. "We had B give Robin a description because apparently his presence is a hell of an EMP. Video feed and coms went down as soon as Batman joined him in the alley. So a few feet away." She clicks a few things on her own screen, and then starts reading down some sort of list she typed up for herself.
"Dante Nightingale, aged nineteen. A farm boy from Illinois. Parents Robert and Jane Nightingale. No other relatives. Totally normal until he was struck by lightning at thirteen and his metagene activated, giving him minor power over ice and sensitivity to heat." She taps something on her computer and a young Danny Nightingale jumps next to Damian's portrait. The black haired boy has a big goofy grin on his even rounder face, splattered with freckles. In this picture, it's obvious that although he's trying to look happy for picture day, the kid had serious bags under his eyes, and a look in those clear blues that just screamed that Danny had seen some awful things. "Then at fourteen, the whole family got into a car crash. Robert and Jane died on scene, while Dante lasted three days in the hospital before going missing entirely."
Babs pushes up her glasses and takes a deep steadying breath. "The nurses on duty reported a change in hair and eye color, as well as strange dental elongation in the canines. Paired with uncontrollable ice stronger than recorded earlier, this led them to believe that Danny's metagene strained under the new trauma and started causing physical mutations alongside the modifications to his original ability. But I think we all know what was actually happening to him."
"...What else do we know about the kid?" Dick asks. Anyone who didn't know him would say that Dick was relaxed, but Jason and anyone else who knew him could clearly see that Danny's story hit a little too close to home. Dead parents in an 'accident' where the kid was there to see. Yeah.
Heh. This looks like a classic meta trafficking case, the more he follows that thought. Not the casual kind most parents have to fear - pick a kid off the street just 'cause they were there, someone will pay for 'em no matter if they're pretty or not.
No. This was targeted. Planned out weeks, months, years in advance. Someone wanted this kid for something specific - enough to murder his parents for and make it look like an accident. Likely, it was to have an ice meta under mind control, considering what Bruce said about Dracula and his thralls. If he's right, Jason might have to go all Buffy Summers and deal with them.
Jason reaches out to catch Duke by the shoulder again and this time he doesn't let go. His newest brother looks at him, big brown eyes wide and fearful. It could've been him, easy. They both think it. They both know it. Fuck, Danny was just a few years younger than he is now.
Jason squeezes. He whispers low to him. "I'd shoot them in the balls for you. Won't let 'em take you. End bloodlines if I have to, to get you back." Duke gulps, and nods. The teen squeezes his eyes shut and Jason pretends he doesn't see him quickly wipe his eyes.
"...Recently, he got legally un-declared dead, and opened a bank account. Looks like one very dead Vlad Masters left his fortune to him sometime earlier. Man owned a goddamn castle. They found a secret lab in his basement with strange equipment when they went looking for evidence. And. Oh. Oh that's not good."
"What is it?" He asked, not wanting to know the answer already.
"Police found a mystery green liquid they couldn't identify but put the composition on file. I just ran it through our systems. 70% match to lazarus water. What's more, there were blood packs close by that were heavily contaminated with the same substance." She looks like she was ready to throw up at the dots they were all connecting.
He might as well. "Alright. Meta kid's trafficked at fourteen and turned into a vampire. Spends the next five years caught by mad scientist vampires who poked and prodded at him like a rat. Then, he murders the assholes, runs off with their money, and moves to Gotham. Fuck's sake." Jason sums up.
Bruce makes a 'I'm not disagreeing with you but I have an opinion' grunt. "That's one possibility. The most likely one from what we know right now."
"But?" Someone prompts.
"But. He mentioned a term called 'Fraid'. He said that someone told him that myself and 'my Fraid' were good people. Nightingale claimed it was a cultural term for found family," Bruce explained. The man's mouth twitches into a frown. "If he was being held hostage all that time, would they have bothered to teach him that? And if they did, experimentation wouldn't be all they had wanted from him. No one would bother to teach someone disposable."
Tim stopped typing for a second, eyes widening and then blanking quick as a whip. Swallowed. Went back in with a vigor.
"So. Either. He got away from his kidnappers, and there's some found family out there somewhere. Or he never got away from them, but he was not expendable. His kidnappers may have forced him into their family." Steph reasoned out.
"Man. This is fucked up." Duke mutters. "You're telling me, kid." Jason whispers back.
Damian bristles. "Father. We have to interrogate him. Nightingale may have connections to the League of Assassins, or a similar organization run by vampires. The lazarus water is damning. We must make sure." The demon brat demands. Which. Fair. More unknown lazarus pits are just asking for evil to pull up with some friends.
Bruce makes an 'I agree with you but I'm thinking' grunt. But before he can respond, Tim cuts in. "So Fraid is definitely what he says it means. But according to the records, only the dead or undead use it. Obviously I did a little digging. Vampires don't count as either of those, even though some sleep in coffins and stuff. No, most vampires count as something called 'death touched'. Meaning they're still alive, albeit really in tune with the other side." Tim shifts, chugging a quick bit of cold coffee. "Only one match came up when I searched for undead vampire. The thing is, it exists, but the file is on the JLD's red tape section."
Which is code for 'don't fucking touch this dimwits if you value your life, call us for fucks sake'. Pleasant.
"Yes Father. If Drake is not once again wildly incorrect and foolish, Nightingale is undead. And it's obvious how." Damian presses.
"I will make the call. Red Robin, keep looking. I'll type up the rest of the abilities and send them to you all. Everyone working with me officially, no one goes on patrol alone. We work in pairs until further notice. Everyone bring with them the anti-vampire precautions we have until we have better options." Batman commands to the group. He zeroes in on Jason, and Jason gears up to rip Bruce a new one for treating him like he's still one his birds.
But that's not what happens. "And Red Hood. Just...be careful."
Instead of acknowledging the icky ooey gooey feelings, Jason snorts derisively. "I'll tell my guys and girls to keep a lookout. If anyone goes missing I'd bet ya a thousand it'll be one of mine. Everyone knows no one's gonna call the cops." He turns around and stuffs his pockets with the gadgets, and Dick threw him a blood bag. "Later assholes."
Jason revs his bike. Tonight, he'll make his rounds, doing what said he would. And hey. Probably hit up that rage room in Bristol he goes to in civvies. Crime's been real quiet recently, and he knows it's likely purposeful.
That pisses him off that they think they can hide from him forever in his own territory.
Tonight's been bad, too. He'd rather go beat up some stupid garbage than risk a pit rage on some numb nut that at most only needs a couple slices to catch his drift. Heh. He's gonna see if they'd let him tape a pic of Dracula to a TV so he can cave his face in post-mortem.
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vxsellie · 4 months ago
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domestic gf! ellie
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summary. random headcannons about living a small, domestic life with ellie as your girlfriend
notes. nothing makes me happier than domesticity so it was only a matter of time before i made smth like this ! also i haven't made any 'headcannon' posts yet so the setup might be ass bc i fr have no idea what im doing ,, to make up for it i made the post super aesthetic & i'm obsessed w it now xx
warnings. some mentions of sex, it's not necessarily smut it's just the act of loving someone intimately & sometimes being super horny !! overall, this is almost pure fluff though i swear ◡̈
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𐙚 first and foremost, ellie def prefers a little life over anything huge or extravagant. she'd take a long morning in bed with u over the met gala any day.
𐙚 something about sun rays filing through dusty shudders makes her heart swell.
𐙚 dirty dishes in the sink, wrinkled bed sheets, cluttered countertops, half-finished home decor, crumples papers, miasma from the bathroom trashcan, that one light you both always forget to shut off. she loves it, all of it.
𐙚 but what she loves most about this life of yours is you.
𐙚 waking up in the morning to see your body sprawled across her chest, a stained band tee clinging to you'd body.
𐙚 hearing you hum songs in the shower while she brushes her teeth at the sink.
𐙚 coming up to wrap her arms around your waist while you cook dinner after a long day of irritable coworkers and snobby customers. then, following that, being able to look across the table at you as you complain about your own day, the taste of your burnt cooking on her tongue.
𐙚 going to the grocery store with you early in the morning after waking to find you're out of cereal for breakfast, both of you insisting you'd thought the other agreed to buy it.
𐙚 your lidded eyes squinting as you read the price tag, leaning heavily on the shopping cart. you're both hungry and tired and annoyed, but have no energy to argue, instead opting to ignore your shared frustration and find solace in the other rather than anger.
𐙚 ellie loading the new groceries onto the conveyor belt while you sleepily fumble with your wallet, still smiling and making conversation with the grocer despite everything.
𐙚 then, getting home and being able to eat your newly purchased cereal, your head leaning on her shoulder as you're both curled up on the couch in front of the tv.
𐙚 ellie oftentimes likes to sit at her desk, scribbling little drawings or entries into her journal while you fill your head with your own random hobbies.
𐙚 she drives you crazy when she taps her pencil against the surface of the desk.
𐙚 the two of you have argued over that a few times, actually. you shouting at her for how annoying the repetitive sound is while she tries to explain that she doesn't even realize she's doing it (though, you don't believe that for a second).
𐙚 over time, however, you've learned to just put on your headphones whenever she journals, the habit becoming as natural to you as drumming her pencil is to ellie.
𐙚 whenever either of you are on your period, the other is certain to be synced, both of you hurting and angry and craving random foods you can't remember the names of. that week is either the worst of your lives, spent arguing and fighting and sobbing; or it's the best, spent singing together in the shower and cooking new recipes and laughing together at ellie's unfunny dad jokes.
𐙚 then, following that week, ovulation hits and you're both completely different people.
𐙚 after you just spent days upon days of working through agonizing pain, you're now unable to think of anything aside from ripping the other's clothes off.
𐙚 dinners go uneaten as she eats you out atop the counter instead; rooms go unswept as you pin her against the nearest wall with an animalistic fervor; her drawings go unfinished as she gets distracted by the girl lying naked in your bed, fingers finding other ways to occupy themselves.
𐙚 ellie has seen you in every state.
𐙚 with greasy unkempt hair, unshaved (everywhere), stained clothing you deem to be 'clean enough', dirt under your nails, unbrushed teeth in the morning.
𐙚 but she doesn't care. she'll still run her fingers through your hair, still rub soothing circles into spiky skin, still strip stained clothes off of you just as desperately, still hold your dirtied hands, still kiss you on the mouth without a care in the world.
𐙚 sometimes, ellie will write songs & ask for your opinion on them.
𐙚 of course, you always tell her how good they are and how proud you are of her. but sometimes you mentally cringe at certain lines or wince at a off-key note.
𐙚 but you love her enough to lie to her face with a curt smile.
𐙚 and even more than that, you love seeing her happy and proud of herself. the sight of her toothy grin and twinkling eyes makes it all worth it.
𐙚 plus, eighty percent of the time, her songs are super fucking good and you're stuck by the passion and care she puts into writing them. the gentility in her intricate fabrication of certain notes and pitches makes your heart stutter. the way her entire body work alongside the guitar with such delicacy that you're sure the two have merged into one tangible being.
𐙚 see, ellie is enamored by the simple things you do ⎯ the way you rip a brush through your hair in the mornings, the gentle whistle you do while cooking or cleaning or doing chores, the fact that you seem to be incapable of making the bed in the morning, the way you always leave your shared shampoo uncapped, the pursing of your lips as you try a new recipe you wanted to try & aren't sure whether you like.
𐙚 these are the things she loves most about you. the things that make her excited to live the rest of her life with you, greasy hair and all.
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⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 taglist : @luvsturniolo @zombieegirl
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fanaticsnail · 2 months ago
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Whatever you wanted
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 1,100+
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Synopsis: For a single night, Eustass Kid gave you permission to do whatever you wanted to him. He was not expecting the direction you took at, nor how needy and desperate to please you in you pleasing him he became. Trust and love between you, you got to have whatever you wanted.
Themes: Eustass Kid x gn!reader, mdni, NSFW, smut, 18+, sub!Kid, dom!reader, no plot, overstimulation (kid receiving), handjobs (kid receiving), love expression and profession, established relationship
Notes: A christmas gift for @remisloves because we love a needy, subby, praise-kink Captain Kid. And also love. We love love too.
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Sat on his plush, red, velvet duvet atop his large bed within his quarters, Eustass Kid bites his lip and chokes back his muffled grunts and deep, keening whines. He feels another wave of himself beginning to get lost in the feeling as the tip of his cock quivered in the overstimulation. While your hand languidly pumped his weeping shaft, tears stung at the corners of his eye creases. Your legs are hooked over his own. His aked body displayed out for all to see should they open the doors to his quarters. You were sat behind him, gazing lovingly up at him while you tested his word and hardening resolve.
Kid has already been pushed well past his limits. His body feels spent and all of him feeling more than sensitive to the touches with every jerk from your hand. His sticky cum already coats your fingers while palming his thick cock - down to the tuft of red hair at his base, up to the swollen, angry tip at the top. Thumbing at the angry cockhead ever so often, all it does is have Kid gritting his teeth and physically shaking while his abdomen contracts and convulses under the pressure. 
He doesn't understand it. The notion that he needs to be told he's loved and held as he sobs, cock dribbling with overstimulation while you cradle him from behind. He feels lost in himself as your hand runs over his fat pectorals, pinching and kneading at every ridge and divot while cooing at him when he whines and arches his back. He bucks into your fist as his actions contradict his inner monologue. 
"P-Please, I can't any more. I-It's too much-!" He whines, hiding his face in the crook of his neck while gasping. Pinching and rolling his sensitive, pebbled nipples in your hands, you feel his cock twitch with need as his need rises ever nearer. His lips tremble as his eyes fall tightly shut. All you do is give him a soft kiss on the shoulder blade, continuing to pump his overspent cock while it drools out pearlescent glubs over your knuckles to pool at the mattress below. 
"Oh, go on," you whisper softly, "Don't you want just one more? One more big one, sweetheart?” you ask him innocently, pinching the pebbled bud before rolling it in your fingers and thumb, “Just one more, and we’ll stop, and I'll get you cleaned up. You'll be so pretty when you do it. Don't you want to be pretty for me? Make me proud?"
"Ah-! Please. Please, I want to be pretty for you. I-I can do one more. One more for you,” he whines in response, nuzzling his head against yours from behind while his hips begin to rock in time with your pumps and pulses. Your praise already has another fresh wave of desire swelling in your hand and twitching in his blunt tip. Already so close to the edge, he pretends that he didn't hear the other four times you promised it would be the last while allowing you to urge him on towards ecstasy.
“Gonna cum, pretty boy?” you ask him with another soft kiss to the shoulder, “I'm not stopping you. Come on. Show me how pretty you can be for me.” His rhythmic rocks continue while shepherded in your arms towards bliss. Each time he bucked forward, his breath heaved in heavier and thicker huffs. His edge continued to rise forward as your hand spread his cum against his shaft, thumbing over the tip in small circles at each tug to draw more blood down to fill his flushed tip. 
“Nghhhhm-! Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum! I’m gonna, I’m gonna-!” Kid whined, keening and panting as you dug your heels into his thighs to hold him steady from behind. You felt your own need rise as you pressed your pelvis against his back, spreading his thighs wider as you kept a steady pace pistoning his cock. 
“That’s it, sweetheart,” you whisper tenderly while gently cupping his pectoral, “Cum for me. Oh, good boy. Oh, fuck, I love you." His release was so much less impactful than when you had first started this session together, yet his sweet whines and gruff growls appeared ever louder and more desperate. 
Initially when you first started, he almost painted the ceiling of his quarters due to the intensity of his release. Cum shot upwards as he whispered a call of your name and dribbled down his shaft as you milked him through it. The second climax was similar, simply a stream of viscosity rolling down your digits and splattering against the bed and the floor beneath his legs. The third and the fourth blurred together; almost as if he didn’t stop cumming for a full two minutes, emptying his balls and convulsing against your body. 
This time? 
The fifth time?
This time there was barely anything left for him to give aside from a loud and uncharacteristic whine as his body reacted much the same. He was like a wild bull: arching his back and bucking his hips as much as his body could while being entangled in your legs hooked over his thighs. He was completely pinned, helpless and manic as he cried out his love and appreciation for you. Cock spurting a sad translucent dribble out, his breath all but lost him as his mind completely fogged. Lips curling down with his jaw slack as he caught his breath, he slumped back against your chest as you cradled him into you. 
“You all done there, baby?” you ask him sweetly as you purse your lips and kiss his temple. All Kid can do is nod and rasp out his breaths in quickened pants in response to your question. Scrunching up your nose at him, you make quick work of unhooking your legs from his and lay him down on the bed. 
Gathering pillows behind his head, you settle him into position before you rise to clean off your hands in the adjoining bathroom in his quarters. Taking a look in the mirror, you bite back your rising smirk while feeling the most powerful you had ever felt amongst the Kid Pirates. Your captain, Eustass Kid, relinquished his control over to you and let you do whatever you wanted to him.
In lieu of choosing to ride him, him ride you, or anything you both would do together for a single night, you chose to utilise the opportunity to overstimulate him until his head was empty alongside his balls.
Returning back to his side with a washcloth, towel and bowl in your hand, Kid was fighting unconsciousness until he simply let it claim him. You gave him a small laugh as you began to swipe his body to clean him of his prior releases. Kid only flinched and chuckled in his sparse consciousness when you swiped at his sides, tickling his skin in the process while he snored. 
“That’s it, sweetheart. You did so well,” you praise him through his heavy breathing, “You just rest now, and I’ll see you when you wake up. I love you.” He roused, cracking his eye open to peer at you while you graced him with your smile.
A small, muffled breath that sounded similar to "I love you, too," lazily fled from his lips as his single hand reached out for you. You took it in your unoccupied hand, bringing it to your lips and giving his knuckles a gentle kiss while you continued to clean him up. A soft, "C'mere, now," exhaled as he gripped your hand, tugging you into his chest and cradling you completely against his completely naked form. He curled into you, shrouding you with his hulking, lumbering body and pressed his tired lips to the crown of your head.
"I love you. So much," he whispered softly against your head, "You could've had whatever you wanted. Me in any way you wanted. Why like this?" You tilted your head up, pressing your lips to his chin softly before gracing him with your answer.
"I chose you because you like this for a lot of reasons, Eustass Captain Kid," you confess, watching as his lashes began to kiss one another in their meet at the seem, "A primary one was because I wanted to see how far I could push you. And another," you cupped his scarred cheek and felt him slip once more in the stage between sleep and alert, "Is because I love you. I love you so much. And I will continue to well past you fall asleep, and still be loving you with my smile in the morning."
"I love your smile," he admitted softly, nuzzling into you and drawing you in closer.
"I look forward to meeting it with yours in the morning," you wrap your arms around his waist and tug him towards you. The sway of the ship aided you in slowly sinking into a shared dream with the redhead within your arms. Each soft rock pushed your bodies together, inseperable and comfortable in the warmth of the embrace. The slow swell of your hearts beating as one continued throughout the night, and, true to your word, you met one another with a smile in the streams of the dawn filtering through the ports.
You loved him.
And he loved you.
Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @ane5e
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eintausendschoen · 1 month ago
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"The man, the sea, his queen, and the sea herself by the light of a single oillight."
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— for @ruthlessness69, because you make me want to make spleepy Poseidon cry of happiness. (scene not in the fic, (yet, (but what do I know)))
This is the long, long, long, long overdue fic rec for "The man and the sea" over on AO3. Of course, with art. Let me just say, if you need a soft(er) Poseidon with a heart full of pining for a certain king, a lot of romcom-ish meddling, and two badass queens, look no further... you'll, laugh, you'll sigh, you'll most definitely cry!
The Man and The Sea by ruthlessness Rating: Mature Relationships: Odysseus/Poseidon (EPIC: The Musical), Amphitrite & Poseidon (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Odysseus/Penelope (EPIC: The Musical) Summary: The sea is different everyday, but it always remains to be the sea. At times the water is sparkly and shiny, going from light turquoise to deep ocean blue, sometimes nearly black, and at times it's muddy and brown because of the dirt and mud being raised up from the bottom. The sea never hides it's secrets, they are just lurking down below. They are always ready to come up to the surface and be a shocking surprise to anybody. The sea was hiding lots of skeletons of the past and also lots of treasures. And it was completely ruthless.
✨I remember seeing your header for the first chapter just after Vengeance Saga aired, and beneath it you mentioned wanting to post on AO3 but lacking an account. To this day I am happy you didn't delete my slightly creepy message (I thought it was a bit creepy, we didn't know each other), and over time made me laugh and sob so hard with this fic and all your wonderful art for the pairing. I just want to give a little something back as a new years gift, bc your story and art make me feel like Poseidon here. Hope your character designs are recognizable enough (Amphi does her own thing, though), playing with your colorsets for the characters was real fun.
🍑 Okay, hear me out, this time there is a reason for the lack of draperies, really! No... stop it right there, just because I don't draw clothes doesn't mean I can't draw clothes...! 😭😭
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lovelytsunoda · 3 months ago
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nothing matters | lance stroll
summary: the first smutmas installment. crying after sex? slightly more common than you would think.
pairing: lance stroll x female reader!
warnings: depictions of sex, very emotional lmao my girl is stressed the fuck out and needs lance to help calm her down with his dick <3, consent checks are sexy! mentions of anxiety, crying after sex, super sweet lance and lots of aftercare.
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"holy fuck, angel, you feel fucking incredible."
lance's fingers fisted the bedsheets as he continued to thrust, keeping a steady pace. she moaned underneath him, sharp fingernails digging into his back. her arousal was dripping on the sheets, his cock bringing her to the brink of pleasure.
and somehow, it still wasn't enough.
"more." she whispered, using her legs to try and draw him closer. "lance, baby, please."
"grab my hand, baby." he encouraged, taking her hand in his. "i know you love it when you feel close to me." his voice was husky as he kissed her, groaning into her mouth.
she had come from work as a ball of nerves. it had been a long day from the start to the end of her shift. everything that could have gone wrong in the office had, and by lunch she'd given herself a migraine. when she came home, she had basically thrown herself at lance, hoping that there was something that could be done to loosen her up a bit.
"you're doing so good, princess. just hang on for me and let me take you there."
she nodded, mind starting to go fuzzy from pleasure. her breathing was laboured, her chest starting to feel heavy. the big ball of anxiety that had settled on her sternum earlier that day was fighting for release.
"deep breaths, sweetheart. come on, breathe with me."
lance paused, resting his forehead against hers, and she met his eyes as she started to inhale deeply. after a few breaths, she felt the pain in her chest start to subside.
she was safe. lance was her sweet lover boy, and he was making her feel incredible.
"you okay?"
"yeah." she swallowed, resting one hand against the side of his face. "just a little tense still."
"do you want to keep going?"
"yes, please."
lance jumped right back in, starting slowly before building up the pace of his thrusts. she closed her eyes and arched her back, moaning as lance's cock slipped in and out of her, one of his hands moving to her clit.
"that's it, sexy girl. fall apart on my cock. you're in good hands. let go for me, you're safe, darling." he knew he was running his mouth, starting to ramble a little, but he also knew what she needed to feel safe and loved <3.
"jesus christ, lance." she breathed, burying her face in the warm skin of his shoulder. he smelled like expensive cologne and sweat, but she wasn't really paying attention to all of that.
"i've got you." he breathed, lips ghosting over her neck as he used both arms to pull her close, hips driving into her under the covers.
"fuck!" she came with something that sounded similar to a sob, the pressure building and building and building until it popped like a very anti-climactic balloon.
she fell limp in her lover's arms, a few tears escaping from the corner's of her eyes. she breathed deeply, chest shaking as she realized what was happening. she drew back from lance, swiping her fingers under her eyes to clear away the salty tears.
"god, i needed that." she sniffled quietly. "thank you."
concern crept into lance's features as he pulled out of her, moving to discard the filled condom. "sweet girl, what's wrong?"
"nothing's wrong. these are good tears, i promise!" she tried to laugh. "i'm just under a lot of stress at work and my emotions are a fucking wreck right now. i don't know what's wrong with me."
unwilling to watch his lover fall to pieces in such a way, lance pulled her close to his chest, hoping that feeling his strong arms wrapped around her slender frame, or hearing the beating rhythm of his heart, would be enough to bring her back to the present.
"hey, pretty girl, it's okay. you're okay. nothing is wrong with you. you just needed a release, and i totally understand that. i enjoyed every moment with you. you did so good, princess. you always do."
he kissed her head softly, brushing a flyaway bang out of her eyes. he kissed her closed eyelids, and then her lips, holding her softly and tenderly.
"i want you to go and splash some water on your face and put on something comfortable. i'm going to go and get you a glass of water and something sweet, okay? and then we can curl up in bed and watch a few episodes of mike and molly. if you're up for it, we can even go for a round two later."
she smiled softly, leaning up to kiss him. "i like the sounds of that."
climbing out of bed, she wrapped the throw blanket form the foot of the bed around her body before tip-toeing to the bathroom, where she ran a brush through her hair and splashed some water on her face. she dressed in her warmest and coziest flannels before pressing a cold compress to each of her eyes.
she heard movement in the bedroom and poked her head out of the ensuite. lance was balancing a tray filled with two glasses of ice water, two mugs of hot chocolate and what appeared to be two massive slices of christmas cheescake.
"did you make cheesecake while i was out?"
lance smiled sheepishly, playing with the hair at the back of his neck. "i gave it a try while you were at work. i actually burned the crust on the first batch, so i gave those ones to scotty. this is the second attempt."
she laughed, pulling him in for a hug and a soft kiss. "i'm sure they're perfect. i love you."
"i love you more."
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megumishotgf · 1 year ago
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fic recommendations ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ
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here are some of my favourite fics currently!! yes most of them are smutty because i am a whore!! ♡
featuring: megumi, satoru, suguru, katsuki (+ a little yuuta + mikasa) credits to all these beautiful writers - pls check them out!! masterlist fic recs pt. ii pt. iii
: ̗̀➛ megumi fushiguro x reader
possessive megumi is tired of other men thirsting over you, including toji and satoru (fic: incredible... i come back to this all the time.)
first kiss with gumi leads to another first (fic: smutty but also so intimate i love it)
you ask megumi to rail you after ur ex cheats (he fucks you so good omg. part two of the fic this is the smutty part)
y/n is pregnant and craving donuts (manga spoilers, a little angsty but mostly cute fluff!!)
you worry megumi doesn't love you. he does (don't worry not angsty so cute and fluffy makes my heart swell!!)
late night call w/ gumi who is so crazy in love with you (im crying i love him)
clueless inspired stepcest with gumi (adding this with no shame it's so so good. soft dom gumi my favourite)
"pretend i'm a random girl at a bar coming onto you" (established relationship. so fucking funny and witty. thank u so much author)
finger fucking you until you squirt omfg (i'm going insane)
weed dealer megumi headcanons (smutty towards the end i love this so much)
megumi protects you from an ass then fucks you in his car (i love protective men)
ditching school to blow your nerdy skater boy gumi (school a.u omg!!)
: ̗̀➛ satoru gojo x reader
satoru finds footage of his teen years with suguru, y/n and shoko (angsty fic: this is so beautiful and could make me sob)
mating press with satoru (holy shit... he loses control of his technique cumming inside... i'm in awe)
y/n is suguru's sister and hates toru but eventually they fuck (i was hollering reading this it's so good)
satoru needs help cutting his hair. almost goes bald (this is so funny and heartwarming. a blessing from tumblr)
drunk satoru cries about your pussy being so good then comes home to fuck you good (deleted ya’ll someone PLEASE send me this fic if it is elsewhere!!)
your clingy situationship w/ satoru (he's so soft and in love...)
: ̗̀➛ suguru geto x reader
suguru lets virgin! satoru fuck his gf (fic: so good holy shit. one of my favourite fics ever. suguru is so soft for his girl)
you're fucking your best friends' father (college a.u!! suguru gets jealous and fucks the brattiness out of you. so so good)
social media au w/ your bf geto!! (so cute and funny!! there is a gojo version too!!)
suguru finds you during your 'sad girl bathtub hours' (comfort!!)
squirting shamelessly in his face (dream)
weed dealer! suguru corrupts you (dumbification kink go crazy)
: ̗̀➛ katsuki bakugo x reader
katsuki doesn't understand how attractive he is (drabble: katsuki is so fine but he only has eyes for you)
you blow katsuki while getting his car washed (taylor swift playing omg? so hot)
your kid shows you a beautiful (ugly) drawing, katuski dies laughing (so fucking funny have you seen the similar tiktok!!)
: ̗̀➛ yuuta okkotsu x reader
vampire! yuuta soothes your period cramps... (u know what this means. incredibly written)
: ̗̀➛ BONUS: mikasa ackerman x reader
drug dealer! mikasa (headcanons: a little smutty, gunplay and robbing men)
: ̗̀➛ multiple characters (drabbles)
jjk men as chubby chasers !! (toji, yuuta, gumi + satoru) (fellow chubby girlies you will go crazy for this)
jjk men + halloween costumes (toji, satoru, nanami + suguru) (so funny and accurate!!)
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itsgreti · 8 months ago
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UNSPOKEN FEELINGS
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pairing. james beaufort x f!reader
summary. james realizes he has deeper feelings for lydia's best friend.
warning. slight cursing, mentions of cheating
word count. 1.4k
a/n: i just watched maxton hall and felt the urge to write a quick fic. english is my second language, so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate and text me! (divider is made by rookthornesartistry)
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The prestigious campus of Maxton Hall Boarding School was a world itself, where the rich teenage life unfolded in all its complexity. Among its many students were James Beaufort, the charming and popular heartthrob, and his twin sister Lydia, known for her big mouth, but besides that, intelligence. (Y/N) was Lydia's best friend since they were toddlers, and because of that she often finds herself in the company of the Beauforts. Despite this, (Y/N) felt like a shadow, always in the background and unnoticed by James. His attractive presence draws attention, as he walks around the hallway, towering over others, always surrounded by admirers. Like everyone in the school, (Y/N) also had a crush on him, but she knew she would always be only his little sister’s friend. And she had long accepted that.
The (Y/L/N) family is famous internationally, because of their luxurious, high-quality dresses. They often collaborate with the market-leading fashion brand, Young Beaufort. But (Y/N) usually wished for just a simple way of life, without fame. All the children, who inherit their family’s legacy, are burdened by the weight of expectations and pressure.
To make things worse, it was a chilly afternoon when (Y/N)'s world shattered. She had been dating a boy from another school, a relationship that seemed promising but ended in betrayal and heartbreak. The boy had just played with her, and thrown away her without a second thought. (Y/N) was devastated and hurt.
Lydia was away on a school trip, leaving (Y/N) with her emotions alone. She wandered the campus aimlessly, eventually finding an isolated bench near the gardens, where she let the tears flow freely.
Unaware of (Y/N), James had noticed her distressed state from afar. He had been passing by when he saw her sitting alone, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Concerned, he approached quietly, unsure of how to begin.
"(Y/N)," he said softly, startling them. "Are you okay?"
(Y/N) quickly wiped her tears, attempting to make herself presentable. "Oh, James. I'm fine. Just... having a rough day."
James sat down beside her, his expression gentle but insistent. "You don't look fine. What happened?"
The unexpected kindness in his voice broke through (Y/N)'s defences. She looked at him, eyes filled with pain, and sighed. "It's just... this guy I was dating. He turned out to be a jerk. He used me and then just... dumped me."
James's jaw tightened, a flash of anger in his eyes. "Who is he?"
"It doesn’t matter. He’s not from Maxton Hall." (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders.
When James heard the pain in her voice, he decided to deal with her now, and it will be enough later to get to know about that asshole. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). You didn't deserve that."
(Y/N) shook her head, feeling small and insignificant. "I should have seen it coming. I'm not exactly someone would notice."
James frowned, shifting closer. "That's not true. People notice you, (Y/N). I notice you."
(Y/N) looked at him in surprise. "You... notice me?" she said with irony.
James was confused, but nodded, his gaze sincere. "Of course I do." (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat hearing those words. "You're important to Lydia, which makes you important to me. And beyond that, you're a great person. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life."
The warmth in his words and the intensity of his gaze made (Y/N) feel a flicker of hope. She had always seen James as someone out of reach, but here he was, sitting beside her, offering comfort and understanding.
"Thank you, James," she whispered, feeling the weight of her sadness begins to lift. "It means a lot."
James smiled softly, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze hers. "I do care about you, (Y/N). And if that guy couldn't see how amazing you are, then he's the one who's missing out."
For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the cold air around them a sharp contrast to the warmth blossoming in (Y/N)'s heart. James's presence was a balm to their wounded soul, a reminder that she was not alone.
"Do you want to talk more about it?" James asked, his voice gentle. "Or maybe we can just sit here for a while. Whatever you need."
(Y/N) smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude and a newfound connection. "Sitting here is nice. Thank you, James," she said feeling his arms pull her into a hug.
As they sat together, (Y/N) realized that maybe, just maybe, she had been wrong about James’s emotions towards her. Perhaps he had been seeing her all along, and in this moment of weakness, she had realised that her feelings for her had not changed over the years.
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The weeks following that emotional afternoon saw a gradual but significant shift in the dynamics between James and (Y/N). Where once their interactions were only about polite nods and casual greetings, now there were shared moments, conversations, and a growing sense of friendship.
James found himself looking forward to seeing (Y/N) more than he ever anticipated. Her presence was comforting, her laughter infectious, and her perspectives refreshing. He was drawn to (Y/N) in a way that was new and unexpected, and it unsettled him in the best possible way. He finally had to admit that he had lied to himself all the years when he said he didn’t care about (Y/N).
(Y/N) felt the change too. She was still close to Lydia, but now James seemed to seek her out independently. He'd join them for lunch, walk with them between classes, and even invite them to hang out with his friends, to where (Y/N) always refused to go and eventually Lydia accepted it. It was confusing but exhilarating.
One evening, while Lydia was busy with her extracurricular activities, James invited (Y/N) to study with him at a cosy coffee shop off-campus. They settled into a quiet corner, books and notebooks spread out before them.
"You know," James said, looking up from his notes, "I never realized how much fun studying could be until I started doing it with you."
(Y/N) laughed softly, their cheeks flushing. "I have never thought that once in my lifetime I will hear that from the mouth of James Beaufort, but I think you just enjoy the coffee and the company."
James smiled, but there was a depth to his gaze that made (Y/N) look away shyly. "You're right about that. But it's more than that. You're different, (Y/N). In a good way. You make everything better."
(Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable. "Thanks. Spending time with you isn't that bad either."
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As the weeks went on, James's feelings for (Y/N) deepened. He found himself thinking about her at odd times, daydreaming about their future conversations, and feeling jealous when he saw her with others. It was during one of these moments when he saw (Y/N) laughing with Cyril, that he realized the truth: he had fallen for (Y/N).
The next day, James asked (Y/N) to meet him in the gardens where they had first bonded. The air was cool, the sky painted with the hues of sunset.
"(Y/N)," James began, taking a deep breath. "There's something I need to tell you."
(Y/N) looked at him, concern flickering in their eyes. "What is it?"
"I've been thinking a lot, and I realized something important," he continued, his voice steady but his heart racing. "That day when you sat with me here, something changed for me. Spending time with you, getting to know you better... I've come to realize that I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings."
(Y/N) stared at him, her breath catching in their throat. "James, I... I-"
James stepped closer, his eyes locked on her. "You don't have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know how I feel. Whatever you decide, our friendship means a lot to me, and I don't want to lose that."
Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes, but they were tears of happiness and relief. "James, I feel the same way. I've liked you for a long time, but I never thought you'd feel the same."
James's face broke into a radiant smile, and he reached out to gently hold (Y/N)'s face in his hands. With that, James leaned in, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, a perfect blend of nervous excitement and genuine affection.
As they pulled away, both of them breathless and smiling, James whispered, "I've wanted to do that for so long."
(Y/N) smiled back, her eyes shining with happiness. "Me too."
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lixies-favorite-cookie · 6 months ago
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Rewrite the ending
-Just once, let him rewrite the story; Just once, he promises you will never have to watch the same ending again.
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Paring◦ felix x mommy issues!reader
Genre ◦ smut with pain
Warnings ◦ The reader is described as having mommy issues though the argument is very brief so it can connect with more people, angst, talk about knives, PIV sex, CONSENT, ngl this is just some passionate lovemaking, tears during sex, references to the princess bride the greatest love story of all time I will die on this hill,
Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr, @velvetmoonlght
A/N ◦ This is literally a story solely based on an experience I just had with my mother and needed something to comfort me while I have a mental breakdown 😃 also if you liked this man I have mommy issues I severely need reassurance 😭
can somebody please tell me if this is convoluted because I tried to make it poetic but I don't know if I just made it messy. THANK YOU.
Soundtrack ◦ Family Line by Conan Grey, Cover me by Stray Kids
~cookiecreates 🍪
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The screen flickers off.
The velvet curtains close.
The world fades to black.
The End
Your ribs crack open, heavy sobs echoing through the gaps of your unfolded bones. Your hands make purchase around your shredded soul, the warm liquid of your sorrows trickling through your splayed fingers like the shadow's phantom finger tracing the lines of your melancholy, dusting over the hill of your cheeks. 
One more time.
Just one more time.
You rewind the tape-
The velvet curtains stutter open.
The screen flashes white.
Just one more time.
How many times could you watch the same movie before you realized the ending would never change?
You rewind the tape-
How many times could you lick her love off the edge of a knife before you realize the blade will never dull?
You slide the tip across your tongue-
Just one more time.
Please.
Just pretend to love me one more time.
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"For once, can you admit that you're wrong?" you snap, attempting to steady your rising voice. 
You've been arguing with your mother for centuries, your breath grating across your throat like grains of sharpened sand. Talking to her was like bouncing wisdom off a wall; it will only ever come to bite you in the ass-
"I did what I had to do to teach you discipline; you were unruly-"
or punch you in the face.
"I was nine!" you shout, a weak and wounded cry. "Nine!"
How could she not see that?
"I did it because I loved you."
She rips your heart out of your chest, only to dust a gentle finger underneath the curve of your jaw; her sweet smile coaxes your lips open; she was your mother, and yet, with a wicked gaze, she draws her fingers together—you choke, a thick river of blood flows onto your tongue like a bitter stream of a thousand broken promises.
There was so much you wanted to say to her.
"Maybe you should reevaluate your definition of love."
"Maybe you should have just been a better daughter."
"Only she could spread sugar across your skin before feeding your soul to the ants."
The signal of an ended call rings through your ears as the world fades to black.
The velvet curtains close.
The screen flickers off.
The movie sputters to a stop.
The End
All you wanted to hear was I'm sorry.
All you have ever wanted to hear was I'm sorry.
You are far too entranced with the stillness of your spine to hear the door creak open, Felix’s hesitant footsteps carefully creep closer. It is only when he mumbles a soft, saturnine "sweetheart" that you finally feel something-
"How did it go?" Felix believed the strings of your souls were so intertwined, the two of you experienced emotions the way an instrument feels the thrum of a cord; but as your heart pumps with an intangible amount of anguish, maybe even for you, some feelings were simply too subjective to share.
It is only when your heart has been crushed by fingers made of feathers do you start caring a lot less about the hands made of knives.
How desperately he wishes he was a human with hinges, where he may unscrew his soul and allow your eyes to gaze upon his walls, with the knowledge that they were only ever painted with the thought of you.
He would not hurt you-
Please, collapse into him, just once-
Let him prove that you will never have to fall again-
Wordlessly, thoughtlessly, your hand chases his touch, a million different uncompleted sentences dissipating as soon as your skin connects; your fingers beg, hold me, even as your mouth shutters shut, dusty rivulets cascading across your cheeks like the desert's silky sand.
You were empty.
so, so, very empty-
Felix's soothing hands lock underneath the bend of your knees, pulling you into his warm embrace with a rush of unregistered movements.
You rewind the tape.
Just one more time.
You needed to be reminded of what it was like to not constantly live with the echo of a hollow soul.
Just one more time.
You needed to be reminded of what it was like to hear something other than a deafening crescendo of pure contempt.
Just one more time.
"Please," you have lived so much of your life caught in a perpetual state of emptiness, for once, you wanted to remember what your body was like before your mother bore you with the heavy burden of broken wings.
"Touch me," you shove the palm of his hand into your core, pleading with so much of your soul none left to protest. He gasps into your mouth, his face scrawled with worry, the etch of a million different fears drawn into the deep lines of his forehead.
Just once
Let him rewind the film
Just once
You will never have to watch the same ending again.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" Though his words are unsure, his actions tell a different story; tender hands massage the length of your thighs, reluctantly begging you to open up, to unfold your deformed ribs, where he will fill your hollow bones with the type of love you have only ever yearned for.
Just once.
"I need you."
You need him more than you need your heart to beat, your lungs to breathe; you need him more than you need the birds, the bees, the ground, the trees—
He lays you upon the silken sheets with such soulful kindness that your glassy eyes almost break; his heart thrums with the promise of I love you and the vow of I'll make you fly. His hand dips into the band of your shorts, pleasure peeking out from the shadows of your mind, only ever bobbing its head long enough to fill your skin with a minute tingling sensation—like running your hands under hot water after a long day in the snow, but it was not enough.
"I need you," you gasp into his mouth, his throat desperately sucking the sound in. His eyes widen ever so slightly, his features stricken with a sudden tightness, a burdened tonnage; you were handing him your heart with the hope his hands weren't made of blades, and the idea of the utter trust you have put in him to do that makes his stomach flip.
Just once—
He will prove it all to you.
"As you wish," nostalgia flutters in your veins as you reminisce the sentence pulled straight from the greatest love story ever told. His nose nudges the column of your throat as he presses a peck on your flesh, drifting his arms down to unceremoniously pull off his pants.
Even with such a simple act, he makes the effort to remind you that he is here.
He takes his time removing your clothes, fingers sliding across your skin with a delicate intimacy, a tender reverence; his lips trace the lines of your seams until your very atoms are etched with his name.
I hate her
I love you
I love you
I love you
He coupled every leak of anger with a river of love, kissing your limbs until all your body could remember was the pureness of his ardor.
"Are you ready?" he whispers against your skin, lining himself with your entrance, all he needs is a word to finally sink himself in. Your eyes are glassy, gazing up at him with such an unadulterated passion, a pure amount of pain—this will tear you apart, and he promises with every fiber of his being, he will put you back together.
"Yes." You have lived most of your life with the heavy burden of a body’s broken wings, and it isn't until Felix’s crafted hands finally crease your ribs that you realize origami can only emerge when you fold it up, the way a bird can only fly when it falls.
You are an amalgamation; so much of your soul is lost in his lips you don't know where he begins and you end, but when a rush of pleasure tingles up your spine, you don't care.
The world is tangled somewhere on the edge of in-between space and time, melding together into a mushy, gushy substance that slips through your fingers as they lace in his raven locks. You pour all your pain into the slit of his lips, where he sucks in every drop, leaving no room for your protests.
You were both overcome with a flood of delicate feelings—the passion that surged with the twists of your heartbeats began to be too much to bear; as his hips ruthlessly rut into yours, you cry out, chasing the edge of a daydream. So close, so close, so—his lips taste like I love you and his tears like I'm here. You can only hear the crash of your soul shattering before his ginger fingers sew you back together.
The juxtaposition of that orgasm was astounding.
You both slam down into the earth at the same time, holding each other's tired bodies as the ground swallows you up.
His arms lock around your head, quivering as he struggles to hold himself up, droplets of tears land on your cheeks as they dip down the slope of his nose. He was so perfect-
so, so, very perfect.
Your mouth raises to kiss a tear clinging to the tip of his nose. He chokes, squeezing his eyes shut. You both are thrumming with tension, overflowing with emotion; before you can even blink, he is pulling you to his chest, naked and sticky, he holds you closer than you have ever been.
It is through the tears of others that we remember we are alive.
Just one more time.
Rewind the tape and let him kiss your shattering soul with the knowledge that has already rewritten the ending.
Just once-
Collapse into him.
Let him prove that this story really is—
The End  
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©CookieCreates (posted: August, 12th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.
~cookiecreates 🍪
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jsprnt · 3 months ago
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as the saying goes: with every high, comes a low
kenan yıldız x reader
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A/N: writing this brought back both good memories and ptsd from the euros 🥲🥲 based on this request, thank you for requesting 🤍🤍 also this is so sappyyy, guess who’s in her feels? 😛
W/C: 1.090
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ninety minutes of straight-up torture.
a small fifteen-minute break to calm your pounding heart down, before it starts heavily thumping against your rib cage again.
you wouldn’t be surprised if you dropped onto the floor due to the amount of times your heart rate had skyrocketed.
anxiety and anticipation.
the only words that could describe your mental state in the moment.
losing a match was painful, but even more painful after turkey had been doing so well in the tournament.
as the partner of a football player, you carried your own sadness, and your boyfriend’s sadness.
you bite your lip when the referee ends the match. enough to draw a small amount of blood. the metallic taste fills your mouth, and makes you feel even more horrible.
the chants of the turkey supporters had been non-stop since the start of the game. at first full of joy, then encouragement, then slowly trailing off to tears and disappointment.
even so, everyone had an incredible sense of pride in their hearts for their country. no matter the loss.
when you're given the go-ahead, all family members and friends of the turkey players make their way out of their seats.
you hurry as you go down, your heart aching as you imagine all of the disappointment and anger brewing in your lover’s heart.
when you finally reach him, kenan immediately pulls you into a private room. without a word, his arms wrap around your back, and he buries his handsome face in the crook of your neck.
feeling his breath hit your skin, you sigh shakily. not caring about his sweaty hair and body, you reach up to run your hand down his back.
"are you okay?"
of course, he wasn't, but you could barely register how fast the team had lost control of the match. let alone form a coherent, comforting thought.
you rake your unoccupied hand through his hair, your heart beating in your ears as you try to find the words to comfort your boyfriend.
though, his lack of response told you enough.
after a long stretch of silence, you start spilling your thoughts. licking your dry lips before speaking.
"I'm so fucking proud of you, kenan.."
the words leave your mouth with deep emotion. followed by a tremble of your lip as you try to keep your tears at bay.
"whatever people say, whatever anyone says doesn't matter. you worked so fucking hard, you put your entire soul and body into it. that's what matters. you tried, and I know you did your best.."
you pause as a shaky sigh leaves kenan's mouth. his athletic body pressing into yours, the smell of sweat, notes of his musky cologne, and your perfume creating a familiar atmosphere.
your heart breaks when you hear a small sniffle. your eyes closing as you hold back your own tears.
"you can cry. it's okay, cry it out. I know it hurts, baby.." you whisper, finally feeling hot tears hit your own cheeks, as his transfer down your neck.
"I worked so hard. so many nights and days- and this is the performance I put on when my team, and my entire country is leaning on me!.."
"shh, don't blame yourself, honey. I know it will sound cliché, but you did your absolute best. you can’t do more than your best, baby..”
you pause to pat his back, tears messing up your makeup, and making your nose run.
"it was going so well, you guys created so many chances. it was just an unlucky second half.."
"to have something in the palm of my hand, and then to just lose it within twenty minutes- hurts so fucking bad.." his shoulders shake with the painful sobs. the emotion expressed by your boyfriend causing a soft whimper to leave your own mouth.
"never ever think that the entire thing was on you. It was destined to be like this. as humans, we will learn and grow, even if we don’t see immediate results.."
kenan moves his head to look at you, your heart practically cracking at the sadness on his face.
the hopeless look in his beautiful brown eyes, the irritation of his soft skin- and the fastened pace of his pulse.
"why are you crying?" he asks, and you can swear he starts crying harder after seeing the tears on your face.
"because, you're hurting. don't ever want you to feel bad or upset.." your voice cracks, and you tighten your grip on the fabric of his training jacket.
"fuck. don't you ever cry over me, baby.." kenan rasps, cupping your cheek with his roughened palm. both your eyes visibly red and irritated from the salty tears.
"how can I not?" you question, before pulling his head into your neck again. cradling the back of his head, as you hug each other as tightly as humanly possible.
"i love you so much. your joy is mine. so how can your hurt not be mine?" you ask, raking your fingers through his hair.
"i love you too. so bad it kills me to see you cry over me.." he chokes out, his fingers curling around your body, holding you incredibly close against his warm skin.
you hold each other for a couple of minutes, the only sound in the room being the cold air conditioning, and the sound of your combined sobs.
you can hear kenan take a deep, stuttering breath, before he speaks.
"we’re such crybabies.."
his voice is raw, but thick with fondness and warmth..
your lover always knew how to lighten up the mood, while others could never do so in similar situations.
you chuckle a little through tears, pulling back to look at him. you raise your hand to wipe the tears on kenan's cheeks, his bloodshot eyes on yours.
pushing back his hair, you expose his forehead, wiping away the rest of the moisture with your sleeve.
"your eyes are all red.." you comment, knowing you probably looked the exact same.
"what do you need when we get back to the hotel? a bath? a cuddle? good food?" you inquire, wanting to provide him the best comfort you could offer.
you watch him take a breath before he speaks, and he whips out a tissue from his pocket, before dabbing at the tears on your face.
he was so gentle and thoughtful, like always.
"I just need you. I just need my sweet baby next to me, and everything will be alright.."
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lo1k-diamonds · 7 months ago
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Paramour 💜
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SX Seoul series | Tae's entry
PAIRING: idol!Taehyung x (f) reader (you can also read it on AO3)
SUMMARY: You were born for the quick and glamorous life surrounding celebrities — they had their little dramas and breakdowns, and you were there to clean up the mess. But you have your own secret, and doing your job might get you in trouble with your paramour.
WORD COUNT: 6,2k
GENRE: secret relationship, smut
RATING: R (explicit)
WARNINGS: jealousy, drunk driving (❗), dirty talking, teasing, edging, fingering, slight degradation, brattiness, Sub/Dom (Tae), semi-public, exhibitionism, almost caught, unprotected rough sex, nipple play, hickeys and bruises, post-orgasmic crying 👀
A.N. Sorry guys, busy birthday yesterday💜 NCT members make a cameo just because I thought it'd be fun 😋 The paramour stands for the illicit/forbidden aspect of the relationship, not cheating. This oneshot is also part of the upcoming @bangtanwritershq 'Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?' quarterly event!
Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs
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You showed the badge hanging on your neck to the bouncer and waited quietly for him to cross-check your name. You glanced at the glacial blue striped lines above the club entrance while you waited. SX — the letters were so hot, that vapor was visibly emanating from them. You pursed your lips — you preferred them in red. 
You rubbed your arms with a chill; it wasn’t snowing too hard yet, but you wanted to go inside where it was warm. He nodded and let you pass, and you smiled, hurrying inside.
Fortunately, despite having the day off, you were supposed to come to this label party, so they had your name. Of course, you were supposed to have leisurely done your makeup and hair, not rushed when called with a bawling demand, but you sighed.
You didn't bother hanging your coat and just crossed the dance floor to one of the private rooms where the sound was muffled enough for people to lounge, have a drink and talk. Yet instead you recognized the team circling a single armchair, and they moved to let you through with worry and relief in their faces. They were your team.
“Hey,” you called out, and as soon as Una saw you from where she was sitting on that armchair, she threw her arms around your waist, bawling convulsively. You eyed the stylists and makeup artists, holding her back while you mouthed, “Eunbi?”
Everyone shook their heads, and you sighed, giving up on it. She was supposed to accompany Una tonight so you could enjoy yourself for a change, but you were there now.
“Alright,” you said firmly, kneeling so you could look at Una clearly. She was easily overly dramatic, but there was usually a reason for it. “Tell me what's wrong. You know I can fix it for you, just tell me what it is.”
Una didn't hesitate, sniffling and smudging her makeup away as though a firefighter had come to rescue her. “He— He was— all giggly and close to her!!”
She hid again, crying on your shoulder next to your dress strap, that fortunately was black, and you sighed. You petted her head as you mused on how to fix this. He — Winwin, Una’s boyfriend. Her — another girl, inconsequential, anyone, it didn't matter. Una was a star, but she got insecure about their relationship way too easily. 
You were musing on how to diffuse her breakdown when she pulled away to speak through sobs, “Unnie— Unnie—”
“Tell me,” you allowed gently, despite the way she was crying. Even her eyelashes were gluing together, but she was still like your younger sister.
“I want— to giggle— and be close to another man too!”
You did your best effort not to roll your eyes, and before you could get up and direct your team, she gripped your arms.
“Please! I'll behave! Don't send me away, just— I'll ask for only that.”
As if to convince you, she started to compose herself, reeling in her cry and wiping her face.
You sighed, “It's not nice to draw someone into this.”
“Pick someone from the label, someone nice. I'm friends with all of them, it's just pretend, please—”
She was going to start crying again, and you heaved a deep breath, holding her strongly in your arms for a beat. The senior manager would kill you and Eunbi if Una, the exceeds-expectations rising star, was caught upset and leaving the label party, but you weren't sure this option was better.
You pulled away when you felt her calm in your arms, then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “Are you sure? You can't ruin someone's night just to make him jealous.”
“I'll behave, I promise,” she sniffled, and to her credit, you did believe her. “Choose someone nice, unnie. Maybe Jungwoo if you find him.”
Your eyebrow quirked at the name, and you nodded, getting up and instructing everyone to make her look like the star she was. You turned to her, “I’ll see to it. No more crying, okay?”
“Thank you, unnie.”
Her smile was angelical, and you only sucked in a deep breath before leaving the room to the main dance floor. The loud house music reverberated along your rib cage while you scanned the room. You saw the managers, the staff, the artists; you knew almost everyone and smiled whenever they greeted you. Your eyes kept searching and stumbled on Winwin, leaning on the wall, talking to a woman. His blonde hair stood out as he played with the straw of his drink, and you rolled your eyes. He was just talking to the woman. If you reacted like that every time your man whispered secrets into another woman’s ear, you—
“Hey!”
A hand on your arm almost startled you, but it was Eunbi, and you squinted, “Where the hell were you?”
“Una’s dog swallowed a toy, I had to rush her to the vet!” 
Poor Eunbi. She was sweating, with her dark bangs gluing to her forehead despite the snowy cold outside, which told you she had raced here. This was turning out to be an even shittier night for her.
“Una texted me, saying she called you! I’m sorry, unnie!”
She bowed frantically, and you placed your hands on her shoulders, “It’s okay, calm down. I was coming here, anyway. Just make sure she doesn’t leave the backroom without calming down first.”
Eunbi nodded and was gone before you knew it, making your eyebrows twitch. Was it because you had managed to sleep a proper eight hours tonight that it seemed to you like everyone was out of it?
Your eyes pinpointed Winwin in the same position, with the same girl, before you kept looking for who you were truly searching for. Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed Taehyung with his friends, chatting casually. His jewelry was sparkling under the club’s lights, with his newly bleached hair in that warm color you liked so much. It fell like waves over his eyes, and you couldn’t help your smile. He looked good no matter what, but that was a favorite of yours.
Finally, you found Jungwoo a bit further ahead. He was hanging out with his close circle in a corner of the room, and you nodded, agreeing with Una. He was gentle and quiet, almost shy for an idol — he’d listen to her story and respectfully help Una through this.
So you made your way to him, smiling up to him when his eyes fell on you. His mouth stayed open, as if he had forgotten what he was about to say, and you smirked, “Long time no see! Can I join you for a moment?”
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Taehyung almost did a double take when he saw you pass without even noticing him. His friends were casual enough to not notice and to allow him to train his eyes on you; where were you going?
He saw you sit next to Jungwoo with a huge smile, and his guts twisted. Why were the other people around you leaving you two alone? Why were you sitting so close to him, talking into each other's ears? Surely it was to hear each other above the noise, but it still made him close his fists. Jungwoo could surely take a whiff of your perfume every time he leaned in like that, so close to your luscious hair, and it just wasn’t sitting well with him.
Taehyung was about to walk over, do something he wasn’t exactly sure what, when you got up and walked away. That was enough for him to just go for it, ignoring his friends calls. All he could see was you, standing on your long smooth legs barely covered by a black tight dress, leaning on the bar counter to ask for the bartender’s attention.
“What are you doing?”
You turned, your eyes finding his on sheer magnetism. The corners of your lips raised, “Ordering drinks.”
You knew your mischievousness was slipping through, you just didn’t care. He leaned in a bit more, glancing around before speaking closely to you, “Are you having fun?”
You didn’t hide a grin, your teasing tongue peeking through before you chuckled, “My night was almost ruined, but it’s sure getting better.”
Whatever he was about to say got interrupted when the bartender reached you.
“One whiskey sour, one porn star martini, and one vesper.”
The bartender left and Taehyung didn't waste a second, leaning close to you, “I didn’t know you managed Jungwoo now.”
“I don’t. I don’t manage male stars anymore,” your eyes trailed over his silhouette from top to bottom before settling on his dark eyes. 
Your head tilted to the side, inviting him to say something more, but you could see his hesitation. His eyes were low, not just thinking about what to say, but actually apologetic.
He looked around at the bar, lips twitching before he voiced quietly, “You’re going to drink?”
“I’ll take a taxi.”
You felt his body press closer to yours, if pushed by the other people wanting a drink or just to touch you, you didn’t know. Either way, your eyes fixed on his, acknowledging that the world didn’t exist when he looked at you like that.
But then the bartender placed your drinks in front of you, and Taehyung moved away, pursing his lips. You smiled at the bartender with a thanks, and grabbed the whiskey sour, “Here.”
Taehyung looked down at the drink in your hand pressed to his chest, then at you.
“For your mood,” you winked, before grabbing the other two drinks and walking away.
You handed Jungwoo his drink and left to get Una, and were expecting to leave them together and go on your merry way. Instead, Una insisted you stay with them, and to your surprise, there was no wailing about Winwin. On the contrary, the conversation was pleasant, and you finally had one drink comfortably. It was not the networking you were expecting to get done that night, but at least it was calm and interesting.
At first, you thought Una needed her unnie’s support, then that it would be best you stayed so things wouldn’t get awkward or controversial. However, right about when you wanted to question Una’s decision, she got up and confronted Winwin. Or so it seemed, and you sipped on your drink as she jumped on him to kiss him, barely letting the man breathe. You saw Eunbi race to deal with it and chuckled; fortunately, that was not your job tonight.
Jungwoo shifted in his seat next to you, and you finally turned to him with a smile, about to thank him for his help with Una when he smiled, “Would you like to dance?”
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Taehyung’s whiskey sour didn’t last long, but his sourness did. How could it not, when you stayed with Jungwoo after Una left? A part of him stayed rational; you were hanging out with people, and you were around idols all the time. But you weren’t talking to him professionally, not anymore, since Una left to make out with her boyfriend in one of the backrooms. No, you were quietly chatting just the two of you, and Jungwoo was leaning into you again, touching your beautiful hair.
He thought he could hold himself back by looking away and turning a purposeful back on you, but then he saw it. Your hand settled on Jungwoo’s leg and his blood boiled. 
The water bottle he was holding cracked as he closed his fist, grinding his teeth with all the things he wanted to do and say, but couldn’t. You got up with a small head bow and Taehyung smiled, ready to open his mouth and say goodbye to his friends, but then Jungwoo followed you. And Taehyung saw just red.
He shoved the bottle to the chest of whoever was trying to stop him, pushing them all aside to get to you. He gritted his teeth, growling in annoyance; all those people in the way, some trying to grab onto him and talk to him, and meanwhile you and Jungwoo were further and further away across the club.
A familiar voice tried to hold him back with an arm around his shoulders, and he shoved them back. He didn’t care where he was, who he was, or when. He gave no fucks about appearances, no fucks about staying quiet. All he cared about was you, and you were walking out of there with him.
He kept pushing people aside to get outside until he finally managed. His thoughts were incoherent, only getting to you mattered. You’d have questions, you’d tease him, but he didn’t care. He was justified, he—
He stopped right outside the club, noticing you standing with Jungwoo on the curbside. Taehyung opened his mouth, ready to call out for you, when a taxi stopped in front of you, and he staggered. He stopped breathing when you smiled mischievously at Jungwoo and stepped inside the vehicle. 
For a second, his heart stopped.
Then you closed the door and waved goodbye, and Jungwoo waved back before bowing. And Taehyung took a breath, but growled all the same, and ran to get to the label's parking lot where his car was. He drank, so he shouldn’t drive, but he had to confront you about this. He was about to explode and it was all your fault.
As soon as he parked, he had no recollection of driving, only of gripping the steering wheel and shaking as he raced there. The tall apartment complex where you lived stood right before him, and he fought the seatbelt to get free and out of the car. He ignored the snow falling and rushed to your doorstep, fortunately without slipping, only to stumble.
You were there, outside, leaning on the wall and absentmindedly scrolling through your phone. Your eyes raised to his, then put your phone away, turning to the side to dial your code instead. He saw you push the door open, but when you turned to him, he didn’t move. He was so mad before, but seeing you like this made him realize that was not all he felt — he was hurt.
You held out your hand to him with a welcoming smile and when he took it, you dragged him to the elevator. After selecting your floor, you wrapped your arms around his waist and sighed into his chest.
“Una wanted to make Winwin jealous with Jungwoo,” you revealed, safely tucked now that he was holding you back.
He took a second to press his lips to your head, “Yeah, and Jungwoo was totally into you.”
You almost chuckled, but had the sense not to, “Nah, he’s just kind, and took Una’s drama. He was just thankful I was there to help.”
You could feel Taehyung nuzzling the top of your head, inhaling your scent, and you just melted. You thought he’d be mad about the whiskey sour tease, but having him hold you like this told you this was about more than a silly cocktail.
He sighed, “Una is making things difficult.”
You pulled back and grinned, “Well, it happens when I can’t manage my superstar anymore.”
You booped his nose playfully and he searched for sadness or disappointment in your eyes, which he didn’t find, to his relief. “True, but… Maybe…”
When his voice disappeared, you incentivized, “Maybe…?”
“Maybe you should tell her about us.”
Your eyebrows jumped, “Why?”
“Because—” He held back for a second, but your wide eyes were enough to unravel him, “Because Jungwoo looked more than just thankful and if she had stayed with you, he wouldn’t have tried anything.”
You smirked, “How do you know he tried something?”
“He did?”
You couldn’t hold a poker face and laughed, even as Taehyung’s expression was turning from surprise to annoyance.
“Una can't keep a secret and I like my privacy,” you explained, knowing he knew this. You were cautious about the fact, not just who your SO was. You knew how the media and your coworkers worked — you didn’t want to plant the subconscious idea that it was possible. The less suspicion, the better. “Besides… if I did that, then how would I make you jealous?”
Your smile turned sly, and he had no qualms pushing you against the wall, “Is that what you were doing?”
You grinned, “Let’s say I didn’t shy away from the opportunity.”
Despite the irritation in his eyes, it was hard to resist smirking and teasing him. You could barely contain a giggle when he leaned into your neck to bite you in what to him constituted a punishment. But to you, it was far from it. You raised your hand to grab and intertwine your fingers with his hair, and closed your eyes, letting the tingling run down your spine. You bit your lip; it was a matter of time until he noticed that the marks he had left a few days ago were gone, and—
He snorted and bit harder, sucking hard to create new marks, and your grin widened. Even when he squeezed you impossibly, pressing you to the elevator wall and nibbled over a sensitive spot, you didn’t stifle your moans, though you remained quiet. You were melting between your legs with each bite and groan, knowing he couldn’t let you go because he wanted you so much. Your attention was so focused that the elevator doors opened and closed, and you didn’t even notice.
His lips trailed down to your cleavage, and your nails sank deeper into his scalp. You bucked your hips against him, blood running hot in your veins, far beyond the point of teasing. Making him jealous was the least of your concerns; rather, having him kissing and touching you was everything you always wanted, and you’d ask for nothing else.
He squeezed your waist to his, knowing well what your restless hips wanted when they bucked into him, but he had other thoughts. He licked and nibbled across your chest and nuzzled to get under the fabric of your bra, reaching with his tongue for one nipple. You shuddered from head to toe, losing the strength on your legs. He held you and the wall behind you supported you, but you were beyond waiting.
“Tae,” you cooed, torn between pressing him to your chest or pulling him to kiss you.
It didn’t matter what you wanted, because he offered resistance, more aggressively suckling and nuzzling your skin on your other tit. You moaned, sure that you’d be bruised at that point, and it only made you gush more between your legs. You didn’t want him to stop, but if he could do that while fucking you into the wall, that would be great.
Since pulling on his hair didn’t work, you let go of one hand to scratch down the back of his head and nape. His groan gave you shivers, and you licked your lips; you were so ready to consume him in any way he wanted, but he was still stubbornly away.
His coat was heavy, but he only had a silk shirt underneath, so instead of trying to strip him, you let him ravish your chest while one of your hands sneaked underneath his shirt.
His breath shook against your wet skin, and you grinned, knowing that goosebumps covered you both — you, from his licks trying to reach your underboob, and him, from your nails grazing his lower stomach.
“Baby,” you called again, continuing your torture. “Let me touch you,” your voice was sweet, yet he ignored you. He wasn’t able to hide his groans, though, or how you made him shake, so you continued, “I want to touch you, you’ll feel so good…”
Your tone was a playful promise, yet all he did was sink his fingers and teeth more into you. You were sure your chest would be covered in hickeys, and despite your smile, you were getting restless.
So you moved your hand expertly down, squeezing it past his belt, pants, and underwear to find what you were looking for.
You squeezed his hard cock in your hand, and he crumbled a little, groaning louder against your skin. You let him rut into your hand for a moment before continuing, mercilessly, “Feel that, baby? You’re so ready for me,” your voice was sweet, but your smile was sly. Your poor baby was groaning and leaking into your hand, unable to shy away, and you knew you’d win. “To make me yours, right?” He bit harder on your clavicle, and you chuckled, amused by his annoyance. “Look at you pretending to be mad…” You leaned to whisper into his ear, “But you can’t stop fucking my hand—”
He suddenly moved away from your chest and wrapped a hand around your neck. He faced you so closely, your noses touched, but the dynamics weren’t necessarily inverted yet. Despite his hand on your neck or your vulnerability, his hard cock was still in your hand, and you knew how to make him kneel.
And you made that point by jerking him off a bit more, squeezing so hard, you knew it could have hurt anyone else, but not him. All he could do was fight back the pleasure with a mask of indifference, but you saw right through him.
“You’re dying to bury yourself inside me, aren’t you?” Your tone was taunting, and his dark eyes only riled you up more. “Come on, give yourself what you want most.”
He chuckled, and moved to whisper into your ear, “You think that’s you?”
You smirked, “I know it’s me.”
He was already biting down your earlobe; he hummed, “Maybe I should teach you a lesson.”
You let your head fall back to the wall with a laugh, “You’re welcome to try.”
Your laugh didn’t last long; with a hand around your neck, firmly pinning you, Taehyung took the other to raise your dress and reach your throbbing core. You bit your lip while you waited, defiance mixed with anticipation in your glistening eyes. He saw this too, and despite his harshness to pull aside your clothes and underwear and shove two fingers inside you, you could only crumble and pray not to unravel too soon. You moaned desperately, turned on by absolutely everything: his harsh fingers inside you, the sloppy sounds from your cunt, his firm hand around your neck keeping you vulnerable to him, your tits half out of your bra and dress, covered in hickeys, and his stone-hard leaking cock in your hand inside his pants.
His dark eyes on yours were unsurmountable walls, dead set on teaching you a lesson, and you smirked yet again. Despite his rough handling, he knew you loved it, and with just a few bucks of your hips, you’d unravel so fast—
“No,” he pulled his hand away. “Didn’t think I’d let you, hm? Not so fast.”
You didn’t answer; you were ready to beg and coo for more, but his fingers were inside you again in a second, making you keen. Your moans were desperate, and your face didn’t hide all the ways you were falling apart for him.
“You talk so big,” he whispered to your red cheeks. “But you fall so quickly. Look at you,” he whispered, and you couldn’t seem to open your eyes, so close you could pop any second if only he let you. “So close already, how pathetic.”
You only groaned, with your cheeks and chest burning at the insinuation, but as he added his thumb over your clit, you let go. You let your head fall back; you wouldn’t fight him anymore, you wanted him to take care of you in every way, take away every thought and responsibility, and to exist only to feel good in his hands, and make him feel good.
Your moans echoed in the elevator along with your obvious wetness, squishing around his fingers. You opened your eyes to see him, thinking how pitiful you must have looked, basically begging him with every eyelash bat to consume your very existence, but he didn’t budge. 
Maybe he thought there was still defiance left in you. 
“Think anyone else can do this to you?”
He bit his words between teeth, and you could only melt more, shaking with a wave that could start your rapture, if only he didn’t purposefully keep it at bay. You moaned, and let your free hand caress his cheek gently.
“Think anyone else can make you feel this way?”
Your eyes filled with tears, but you were so overwhelmed you couldn’t reply. His jealousy gripped your heart firmly, reaching a deep part of you that needed to feel wanted and desired unconditionally, irrationally. On the other hand, he was still rutting into your fist, edging himself just as he edged you, as though that torture was shared between you both. That was your Tae, your man, fulfilling you in ways you couldn’t even voice.
“Please,” you tried, but it was weak. You were trembling, melting, overheating, functioning at a primal level that could only feel him, nothing else.
You saw in his glistening eyes that he would crack too, especially as he nuzzled your hot cheek, “Think you’ll ever beg for anyone else like you do for me?”
“No, baby, please,” you stammered, supporting your hand on the back of his neck to keep him close.
The corners of his lips curved in the hint of a smile, but then he shook his head, nuzzling you, “No, baby.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, rubbing his thumb over your clit deliciously slowly just to make you keen unashamedly. “You told me to teach you a lesson.”
“I got it,” you breathed.
“Yeah?” He waited, seeing in your concentrated expression how you thought you would come, and he licked his lips. He knew you all too well, he’d keep edging you until he got what he wanted. “Tell me,” he insisted, drawing your attention again. “What have you learned?”
“I love you.”
You opened your eyes to tell him this, and his eyes flickered with a spark. He couldn’t tell if you were teasing him, pulling at his heartstrings, or genuinely crumbled and succumbed to anything that wasn’t your love for him. You smiled at his hesitation, knowing he had good reasons to think twice, and that was your undoing.
His fingers relented inside you, and he squeezed around your neck firmly, “You only learned that right now?” His tone was sharp, and you smirked, unable to stop yourself. Teasing him was too fun, even when you didn’t intend to do it, and having him all over you was the sweetest of rewards. He leaned over your lips, brushing them, “Such a smart ass you are.”
“You love it,” you bit back when he didn’t let you finally kiss him.
Your heart was confused between submitting to him or taunting him again, especially seeing how shaky and overheated you were, but then the world plunged. The elevator started going down and the sweats down your spine went from molting hot to freezing cold. You glanced at the panel, same as him — the elevator had been called back to zero from the fourteenth floor, where you lived.
You looked at him, ready to rationally deal with the situation, but all you found was a challenge in those dark eyes. Your eyebrow quirked quizzically, and his fingers restarted moving ruthlessly, making you jolt against the wall in surprise.
“I guess you have to convince me you’ve learned your lesson fast.”
You widened your eyes, the hot and cold shivers clashing on your lower belly, confusing you, “What?”
“You heard me.”
His eyes were dark and intent, and you almost cursed a cry. That was the serious Taehyung eyeing you intently. He wouldn’t forgive you if you failed, and you were totally adrift. The pleasure was undeniable, but so were the chills down your spine.
He bit down your neck, pushing his fingers so hard at your core, the contrast almost gave you whiplash. You wanted to scream; everything was mixing inside you in a storm. A minute ago you would have jumped and came hard, but now, with every inch the elevator went down, fear was gripping your heart.
“Baby, wait— stop— we’ll get caught,” you pleaded. 
“I don’t care,” he pulled away to look into your eyes, and you fluttered around his fingers. “Tell me what I want to hear.”
His voice was softer now, as if he felt the same torment as you, and you were sure he did. He was still hard in your hand, reacting to your core around his fingers as though it was inevitable. So you sighed into his cheek, his scent bringing tears to your eyes still locked with his, sparkling the same as his. You belonged to him, always had, always would. You knew that, and he knew that, no matter how much you teased him about it. But you had never felt it so intensely, in your spirit, in your soul, in your bones. So owned, both in pleasure and otherwise. And safe. Even if that elevator reached zero and the doors opened, he would love you unconditionally always. Your love was undeniable, even when faced with the possibility of getting caught. Even if it would ruin your life, your career, or affect his. There was only the truth, and you wouldn’t keep it from him.
“I love you,” you said, and for a moment he thought you were still being defiant. “I love you, I belong to you, I’m yours. I want you to hold me for the rest of my life. No one but you will ever touch me, I love you so much—” Your voice wavered, and he instantly pressed his lips to yours for a sweet kiss that had a tear running down your cheek. As soon as he moved away, you still managed, “I don’t care about anything else.” His hand moved from your neck to your hair, holding your head up, so your glistening eyes didn’t hide. “I just want to be with you forever—”
His lips smashed yours while his hand darted from your hair to the stop button, making the elevator shake to a halt. Then he pressed your floor again, and as the elevator went up, so did you. His tongue was inside your mouth, showing as much desire and desperation as yours, while his hand restarted fingering you roughly. Only this time, it seemed like you were a firework ready to blast once the fuse ended, and you wanted it. You fisted him harshly too, your hand so wet you doubted if he hadn’t come already, but by his ruts, you knew he hadn’t.
You thought you were set to come with him when the elevator stopped, but as it stilled, so did Taehyung. He gave you a last kiss, took his hand out of you, and pulled your hand from inside his pants. The doors opened, so you thought you’d make your way to your apartment and finish things there, but he stopped you.
Right as you were passing the doors, he grabbed your arm and pushed you against the frame where the elevator doors had retracted into. He spread your legs with his so that one was outside, on your floor, while the other stayed in.
You sighed, “Tae?”
He pulled your hair to the side and kissed your neck, then glued your ass to his crotch. You both groaned with his hard cock rubbing at you teasingly, and he pressed himself fully to you, groping your tits harshly, “We’re not done yet.”
He sounded frantic as he kissed down your neck, squeezing and rutting into you so hard, you wondered why he wasn’t inside you already.
You raised your head to tell him that when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, through the elevator mirror. He had his eyes closed, lost in kissing every inch of your skin he could, while he used one hand to release himself. You moaned just at the sight of his juicy hard cock, and closed your eyes in anticipation while you felt him fumbling with your dress and underwear until the tip was pressed to your folds.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, teasing you both while he got coated, and you only ground back into him.
He sounded desperate, but so were you, and nothing would stand in the way of feeling him again, of being part of him, loved by him, and used by him.
Your nails scratched the metal door frame, and you almost cursed and begged for him, but soon he was pushing himself inside you, and you groaned. He pushed further and further, giving you time to clench and feel the sting, adjusting to his girth, before finally tucking himself fully in, raw in your wet, soothing embrace. He tried bucking his hips, and you instantly keened, letting the stretch reminding you of how amazingly fulfilling it was to have your love inside you.
He didn’t wait a second to start fucking you in a demanding rhythm, grasping you by your hips, then waist, then chest, shoulders, neck, and even hair. His hips were ruthless, smacking into yours to fill you up every time, and you could feel yourself dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t stop moaning, and you didn’t stifle those down either, so drunk on him that someone could have showed and found you, and you wouldn’t have even noticed. All you wanted was the smack of his hips against your ass, the blunt shove of his cock inside you, pushing and dragging against your walls, poking you inside, turning your body into nothing but pleasure.
He leaned closer, changing the angle to hit your g-spot in a way that stole your breath, but not more than the words he grunted into your ear, “I love you so much. I fucking want you, you’re mine.”
You were ready to cry your love too, but then your eyes met through the mirror and the hint of anxiety in his hurt you deeply. His eyes quickly softened with his affection for you, but your heart couldn’t forget it. Teasing him was one thing, another was to actually hurt him or make him insecure about you.
“I’m yours,” you tried, though your voice was hardly your own with each moan. “Tae— I’m—”
His fingers had gone around your waist to rub your clit, and talking became nearly impossible. “I’m here, baby. I got you,” his voice was a groan. He was tucked so deep inside you that you knew he was holding his orgasm back. “I’m waiting for you,” he nuzzled your neck, and your eyes rolled back. “From the moment I met you, I’ll never stop— Never give up—”
Something in your lower stomach was about to explode, overheating you to the point you couldn’t breathe, until you snapped. You bucked your hips deeper, feeling the burst of your orgasm imminent, and you screamed. His fingers were the perfect push, and your core throbbed, sucking and pumping his pleasure out of him. He groaned into your neck, pressing you by your mound to sink on his cock as deeply as possible, and your nails scrapped the metal frame. His cock twitching deep inside you increased your sensitivity to the point that tears fell down your cheeks, despite the absolute bliss lighting up your body. The way he swayed his hips to jerk the last drops inside you, then pressed you closer to stay inside you and all around you, made you shake with a sob. That was how he loved you, attentively, completely, unconditionally. And you had stupidly hurt him.
“I love you,” he whispered incessantly as he held you and pecked your salty skin. “You’re everything to me, I never loved anyone like this.” You shook with a sob and his tone changed to worry, “Did I hurt you? Are you nervous?” He rubbed your hands and let you come further back into his protective embrace, “I’m sorry, baby. I wouldn’t ever let them catch us, I’d never risk your safety like that.”
You knew that, and it somehow hurt you more — that he’d do everything to protect you while you so childishly hurt him.
“I— I’m sorry,” you tried your best to stop your bawling. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or suggest that I’d ever want anyone else, I— I love you!”
He held you even harder, knowing you need that, “I know, I’m not mad. I was… worried he’d impose himself or something.”
“Jungwoo… He wouldn’t,” you sniffled, and before Taehyung had time to let his jealousy resurface, you continued, “I told him— I told Jungwoo I have someone. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said instantly, nuzzling your cheek with a half hidden smile. “I don’t mind.”
You nodded, still sniffling and cleaning your face, but relieved with his kisses and snuggles. Then you pulled your hair away from your face, and brushed the back of your knuckles to his cheeky smile, “Let’s go home.”
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