#it's also raining hard and it sounds so nice

[fenya-scribbles]

Escape

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Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend went too far this time and Chan picks up the pieces.

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, friends to lovers?

Content warnings: mentions of domestic violence, mentions of blood, curse words, nudity (non-sexual), lmk if I missed something :)

Word Count: 674

A/N: My first Stray Kids fic, inspired by The Last Night by Skillet. It just came to me. If anyone's interested, I could see myself doing one of these for the other members as well.

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When you turned up at Chan’s door, you didn’t even remember how you got there. You just remembered leaving your boyfriend’s place, running through the rain without a jacket, freezing and bleeding and crying. You just remember the fear in your bones. And now you were here. 

It was the middle of the night, but you knew Chan was awake. Chan seemingly never slept, which often made you worry about him. But right now you were glad about it, because he didn’t take long to open the door. “Y/N?” His curious look quickly turned into a worried one. “Fuck, what happened to you?”, he asked as he pulled you into his apartment. 

You wanted to tell him, you really did, but all you could to was break down crying. He immediately pulled your rain soaked body against him, arms locking tightly around you as you started to sob uncontrollably. “Hey, hey”, he spoke softly, gently running his hand over your hair. “It’s alright. You’re safe. I got you.”

You stood there crying for what felt like forever, but eventually your sobs died down and you motioned for Chan to let go of you. He did so just enough to be able to look at you. “You’re bleeding, Y/N. What the fuck happened?” He said as he pushed a wet strain of hair out of your face. You swallowed hard. 

“It was my fault”, you said. “I dropped a plate. I should’ve been more careful.” Chan raised his eyebrows. “Your fucking boyfriend did this?” He sounded angry now and you flinched at his tone. “Hey, hey, sorry”, he immediately softened his voice. His eyes went to the bleeding cut on your cheek. “I need you to know that this was not your fault.” You opened your mouth to disagree, but he immediately interrupted you. “Don’t even think about blaming this on yourself. Your boyfriend is an aggressive asshole. You’re not going back there.” 

You were too tired to argue, the heaviness of the situation suddenly hitting you like a freight train, so you just let Chan take you to the bathroom, where he treated your wound. “How about you take a hot bath, hm?”, he proposed, “Wash that pathetic excuse of a man off your skin?” 

It was so nice to be taken care of by Chan. He’d been your best friend for years and he’d never liked your boyfriend. Of course, your boyfriend had also not liked Chan and had tried to break up your friendship multiple times. Chan wouldn’t have any of that, and in this moment you were eternally grateful for that. 

Chan started to run the bath and then helped you out of your soaked clothes. Under different circumstances you might have felt embarrassed to be naked in front of him, but there was no energy for shame left in you. Chan was respectful and gentle, helping you into the hot water and proceeding to wash you with a soft sponge. 

“Can I stay the night?”, you said eventually. “I already told you, princess, you’re not going back there.” “What about tomorrow?” “You’re never going back there. I’ll handle it.” You looked up at him with tired eyes. “Really? He’ll be pissed if you show up instead of me.” Chan let out a huff. “Don’t worry, princess, I can take him.” 

Chan proceeded to wash you, wrap you into a soft towel and carry you to his bedroom. You didn’t fight it, didn’t want to fight it. Chan had always been your comfort person and he was exactly what you needed right now. “Get some sleep, princess”, he whispered as he tucked you in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

When he got up to leave, you reached for his hand. “Please”, you said sleepily, “don’t leave me alone.” He smiled and laid down beside you. “Alright.” He wrapped his arms around you, shrouding you in warmth, safety and comfort. “Never leave me alone”, you whispered. “I promise, princess, you will never have to spend a night alone again.” 

♥--------♥--------♥

Masterlist

[izzy-b-hands]

A moth has kicked me out of my room for the night, but i have the tv downstairs that i can leave on to fall asleep to and that's not so bad

[jackass-jones]

Come back home when you have some sense

You can throw your life away just not at my expense

You’re not the son I raised

[borathae]

Rainy Mornings | Yoongi x f.Reader

"Relax, my love, this morning is all about you."

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, soft Smut

Warnings: subbish & sleepy!Yoongi, switch!Reader, neck kisses & bites, lots of touches, handjob, cuddly penetrative sex in cowgirl position, he cums very quickly <3, creampies, hints of breeding kink, this is just a sweet lil smut hehe <3

Wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: it rained the morning i wrote this and this is where my thoughts drifted off to. it's short and sweet and cozy <3 because this is what yoongi deserves <3

Yoongi wakes to gentle kisses on his neck and fingers dancing over his tummy. The relaxed little sighs of you as you kiss him, mix with the distant sound of morning rain. 

Yesterday you and he went on a date. You took a drive and went for a movie, then you ate and talked until the restaurant had to close. Yesterday was such a good day. Today is going to be a good day as well. This is the first thought which runs through his mind, followed by how much he loves waking up with you close to him.

Yoongi purrs, rolling his head to the side to stub you with his nose. He steals a kiss, smiling into it. You do as well, cradling his cheek and caressing his skin with your thumb.

“Mornin”, his voice is raspy from sleep and incredibly warm. 

“Morning”, your voice is a little deep still and filled with happiness.

“Up for long?”

“No, just a few minutes. Wanted to enjoy you”, you say and nudge his head back into its previous position so you can kiss his neck again.

Yoongi tingles, shivers running down his spine. 

“This feels good”, he sighs, keeping his eyes closed. 

“Mhm, enjoy. Wanna make you feel good.”

You dance your hand back to his tummy and let it disappear under his shirt. The blanket covers you as well, keeping your bodies warm as you share this intimate moment.

“It’s raining”, he talks quietly.

“I know. It’s nice, means we can stay in all day”, you talk quietly as well.

“So no rainy walks?” 

You smile against his neck. He knows you so well. You love rainy walks. 

“Maybe later. For now, I want to cherish you.” You nibble on his favourite spot. “And make you feel good.”

You dance your fingertips along his lower tummy, tracing the little dents his hip bones naturally create when he lies down and his tummy sinks in a little. He is incredibly soft there and also very sensitive. He can’t take your touches for long before he has to squirm and let out a shy chuckle. 

You give him a break, drawing hearts on his waist. 

“Ticklish?” 

“Yeah.”

“You’re so soft there. Couldn’t help myself.”

“Liked it. Just…sensitive.”

“Mhm, you’re perfect.”

Yoongi blushes, having to exhale shakily. He is perfect. He thinks that he is a lot of things, but perfect is definitely not one of them. To think that you see him like this makes him feel really good. And giddy. And shy. And loved. 

Yoongi feels really loved when he is with you.

“This is so nice”, he sighs, chasing your touch.

“Mhm, so nice”, you agree, swirling your fingers back to hip bones to trace them. Your lips explore his neck in the meantime, turning his sleepy brain a little foggy.  

If this is actually a dream, Yoongi hopes never to wake up. 

He was weird about being touched in the past, but when your fingers are on his body he doesn’t want it to stop. It is paradise. 

A warm, tingly paradise, which feels especially cozy this morning.

You kiss the shell of his ear, whispering in your sweetest voice. Yoongi shivers as an effect of it.

“Just tell me to stop, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He knows what will happen, holding his breath for it. He wants this. So much so that heat shoots between his legs within seconds, surprising your fingers with a hard and needy length to play with. Yoongi normally sleeps in boxer shorts. Tonight’s pair is black with dark grey stripes and an elastic band at the hem. You don’t slip your hand under said hem, but slip it inside the slit in the front.

“Oh? Already?” your surprise excites him, making him throb.

“Yeah is…is nice.”

“Shit, that’s sexy”, you whisper and pull out his cock through the slit. You let go of it for a second so you can lick your fingers to wet them. You connect your tongue with his neck afterwards, tracing the sensitive spots while your wet fingers wrap around his cock. 

Yoongi furrows his brows at the touch. Electricity courses through him. 

You pick up a slow rhythm, lingering on his tip and upper inches most. The position and tranquillity of the morning asks for such a rhythm. You don’t want to jerk him, pump him or milk him dry. No, you want to explore him, make him fall so deep into pleasure that he doesn’t want to leave. This is meant to build up, to be something you can savour and later think back on with a tingly stomach. 

“Does this do something for you?” you ask him.

“Yeah, like, a lot”, he gets out, squirming his hips in a very slow rhythm. They flinch for a little moment whenever you linger on his tip and slow down again when you move to another spot. Your lips are soft on his neck and your tongue is really warm. Yoongi swears that it couldn’t get any better than this and then you bite him.

You goddamn bite his neck. 

And Yoongi is a goner. 

He gasps your name, arching his back and curling his toes. He is yours. He is entirely yours. 

You kiss the tender spot afterwards, playing with the droplets of precum on his flushed tip. 

“Was this good for you?” you ask him.

“Yeah…more”, he begs, rolling his head to the side. 

You fulfill his wish, biting him where it feels the best. And so it happens that Yoongi breaks the cozy morning silence with his first moan. Of course it makes your stomach tingle like crazy. His voice is made for sounds of pleasure. 

“God Yoongi, I love being with you”, you say, biting him again just so can hear him moan. You twist your fingers around his tip at the same time, applying pressure. You need him to moan again. It is all you crave. 

Yoongi gives it to you gladly and a little shakily. His cock leaks all over your fingers and his legs are like puddy. He feels a deep warmth radiate from his cock up to his stomach and down his legs.

“___ a-ah”, he chokes out, tensing his stomach. You are a little quicker in your movements and keep lingering on his tip. This is a lot to handle for his sleepy, droopy body.

“Yoongi, my love, god I just”, you trail off. You have no words, letting your body do the talking. 

You climb his lap and bush your shorts aside, sinking him into you while you swallow his surprised gasp. 

Your fingers bury themselves in his morning hair, ruffling it even more and tugging just enough to make him shiver. 

Your press your chest against his’, rocking back and forth on his cock.

“___.”

“Yoongi, my Yoongi. You feel so good inside me.”

“Good. You- ah- good. You feel good, ah. Too. Good too a-ah.”

Big hands come to grasp you, fingers dimpling your butt because they are desperate enough to do so. He doesn’t guide you, as a matter of fact, he doesn’t even meet your movements. He just lies there, taking the slow ride and thinking to himself that he is going to climax any second now. 

He feels so good. You are warm and perfectly heavy on top of him, you kiss him so well and play with his and your heart races and he gets hugged by your warm walls and, and, and. There are a million different reasons why Yoongi feels good and why he is close. 

He has to break the kiss and tell you.

“I’m close.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s…it’s fucking amazing, not gonna lie.”

You smile, dancing his lips to his ear.

“You’re a delight, my love”, you whisper and give him a glimpse of heaven by biting him right under his ear. 

“Ah!” Yoongi yelps and tries desperately to stop your hips. 

He is successful, but it comes too late. Yoongi is too far gone. It is already enough for him to simply be nestled in your soft walls. He paints your insides with his warm orgasm, clasping your butt for it while his mouth is agape in a soundless moan. 

You mewl his name, resting your lips against his neck as he pumps you full. You swear that you can feel each load he releases. It fills your tummy with so much warmth and makes you so wet. You don’t want it to stop, but of course it has to. Yoongi’s poor balls can only produce this much in the morning. They are still a little sleepy, forcing him to experience the last wave of ecstasy dry. 

Yoongi comes down with a shudder, pressing out your name before he has to gulp repeatedly. 

You lift your head, resting on your elbows and tracing his features. His eyes are closed, his cheeks are slightly flushed. You outline his forehead, his brows and closed lids. You trace his nose and his lips and caress his cheeks and chin. You end it by tugging strands of his black hair behind his ears and massaging his lobes. 

“I love you”, you whisper.

“I…love you…too. Ahmg”, he gulps again and exhales, finally opening his eyes.

You smile at him, cradling his cheeks.

“Sorry”, he mumbles.

“For what?”

“I tried to hold it, but-”

You silence him with a thumb against his lips. Yoongi makes puppy eyes at you, mouthing at your finger.

“Don’t apologise. This was perfect. I wanted this morning to be about you and it was.” You kiss his lips. next his nose. Lastly his forehead. “You deserved this after the amazing date yesterday.”

You meet his eyes and smile. Yoongi retorts it.

“Besides, I have a wish for today.”

"What  wish? Tell me, I’ll do anything.”

You snicker, “really? Anything?”

“Anything. After what you just did.”

“You’re cute. I think you’re gonna like my wish then.”

“Tell me.” 

“Wanna spend today slowly getting me more filled with you? You know, cum inside me and plug me and then at night you take it out and fuck me properly.”

“Woah princess, what the fuck? My cock just twitched.”

“I felt it.” You boop his nose. “Soo are you down?”

“Of course I am, fucking hell, you don’t gotta ask.”

“Awesome”, you lean in for a smiley kiss, one Yoongi eagerly retorts.

Truly, there is nothing better than rainy mornings with you.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 25

masterpost

Despite the chill in the air, it was a lovely day to be outside. The sun was warm, the ground had dried out after a few days of rain, and the trees were in full color. Danny threw the ball again for Ursa, using the odd launching stick that Dick had gotten for them. It was appreciated, really. Ursa could run and Danny couldn’t throw the ball nearly as far as she wanted by hand.

Ursa raced back with the ball, just a cloud of black fur, and darted right past Danny. Danny spun around quickly, not wanting Ursa to jump on Alfred again (they were working on it), and almost swallowed his tongue.

“Ursa! Gentle, girl! Be gentle!” Danny called out as he took off after her.

Luckily, Ursa listened and planted her fluffy butt on the ground even if she was still wiggling around excitedly.

“Hi there, Ursa, it’s nice to meet you,” Babs said with a soft smile as she held out her hand to be sniffed.

Ursa dropped the ball in the offered hand with a quiet woof and a large grin. Luckily Babs didn’t seem to mind the sudden, slobbery present and threw the ball like Ursa wanted. Ursa was off after it like a bolt.

“Sorry about her,” Danny said as he scratched at the back of her neck. “Play time means fetch right now. She’s pretty determined about these things.”

“That’s okay,” Babs said as she wiped off her hand on her jeans. “She seems like a real sweat dog.”

“She is. It’s been really good to have her.” Danny didn’t even try to hide how found he sounded. He kept his eyes on Ursa, not able to look at Babs as he asked. “Did you… did you find anything?”

“I did.” Babs’ voice was gentle. “Do you want to know now?”

“I— yes, but no? I think this will… I guess… I don’t want to hear this alone, but I think that means I’ll need to explain everything.”

Ursa dropped her ball and came over to Danny where she pressed herself firmly against his leg. Danny buried a hand in her soft fur.

“They’ll all wait however long you need them to,” Babs said.

“I know. But I think… I think I do need to tell them, if I want to get better, and I want to get better.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure the family is on the way for dinner tonight and we can talk once they get here,” Babs said with that carefully gentle sort of voice that Danny always hated a little. Jazz used to do that too. “In the mean time, I’d love to get to know Ursa more.”

Danny cleared his throat. “So, I guess it’s obvious that she really likes fetch…”

-

Dick helped Babs settle onto the sofa. She didn’t need the help, not really, but the easy back and forth of movement was just natural for them, even after all of these years. It also gave him someone to fuss over that wasn’t Danny. What he wanted to do was scoop Danny up into a hug and never let him go. Dick figured that would be a bit too stifling though. Instead, Dick made sure that Babs had her laptop while the rest of the room got settled.

Danny chose the floor, apparently. He leaned back against Jason’s legs while Tim was pressed on the other side with Steph crammed next to him. Damian was on the floor next to Danny. The two were oddly hard to separate. Ursa had draped herself across both their laps; Danny dug his fingers into her mane. He didn’t look up at the rest of the room, even as Cass sat on the arm of the couch.

They hadn’t been told much about why they were there, a fact that ate at Bruce, but he worked to let that go. Danny had asked them to be there and to the one, they had shown up. Alfred was passing around hot chocolate with Duke’s help. The inclination that the comforting drink would be needed was probably right, as much as Dick hated that. He took his own mug and clung to it like a lifeline.

“The other night,” Babs started, “Danny asked me to look into someone for him, a Jasmine Fenton.”

On the television, a picture of redheaded girl appeared. The person who’s hair Babs had reminded Danny of, Dick realized. It looked like a school photo: mediocre studio lighting, bland background, a forced smile. She was late teens with a scatter of freckles and bright blue eyes.

“Jasmine Fenton, age nineteen, is currently enrolled at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville, where her permanent residence is.”

“Arkansas?” Danny asked quietly.

Babs nodded. “She’s been in the state since she entered the custody of Alica Bayard, Jasmine’s aunt from her mother’s side, almost two years ago.”

Danny sagged forward, burring his face into Ursa’s mane. “Oh thank god.”

“Why did her aunt receive custody?” Bruce asked when none of the rest of them seemed able to.

The steadying breath that Babs had to take wasn’t reassuring. “Jasmine was removed from her parent’s custody after the living conditions were found unsafe. This was part of an investigation into the disappearance of her brother, Daniel Fenton.”

A familiar face joined Jasmine’s on the screen. It was the same, awkward sort of school photo and Danny looked even more uncomfortable in it. His hair was shorter, his eyes bluer, and there were none of the scars. This was Danny before everything went wrong.

“The parents, doctors Jackson and Madison Fenton, were never charged with anything relating to the disappearance. They moved away from Amity Park four months later, likely due to increasing hostility from the town.”

“They weren’t dumb enough to keep me in the house,” Danny said. His words were somehow loud in the room despite being muffled by Ursa’s fur. He gave a mirthless chuckle. “You know, I used to think they were … not dumb, but clueless, you know? That they were science smart and low in everything else. The hapless, accidentally mad scientists. And then… and then I find out how much they had planned. That all of me was planned… I don’t know if anything about them was real.”

Damian leaned over to press against Danny’s side, offering his silent support. Dick was proud of how good a brother Damian was to Danny. It was a small silver lining in all of this. Danny slumped against him.

Danny’s eyes flicked back up to the screen and his sister’s face. He glanced away a long moment later. “Is there… are there any picture of the lab from the report that you can put up?”

Of course Babs had the photos and soon they were cycling through on the screen.

Mad scientists was right. The place looked distinctly science fiction, full of every day objects and tools that should be recognizable but where three steps away from reality. Everything was gleaming metal accented with a toxic green.

“My… they… the Fentons are ecto-biologists,” Danny explained as the rest of the room cataloged the details in the pictures.

“Ghost biologists?” Tim asked with furrowed brows.

“Yeah. Not that they ever met the ethics that biologists go by. But they didn’t think ghosts were sentient let alone sapient, so I don’t know why they even called themselves that. They didn’t… the screams means it’s working,” Danny said, choking on something between a laugh and a sob.

Jason cursed, the words a low rumble of anger that echoed through the rest of the room.

Dick had to get up and pace.

He brushed his fingers lightly over his family as he moved through the room, assuring himself they were all there and alright. Bruce caught his fingers and squeezed. Dick huffed, but settled lightly on the arm of Bruce’s chair.

“There’s a lot I didn’t really think about as a kid,” Danny said, once the room had settled again. “I should have. But they were—I thought they were my parents. I thought they knew best. When I started to really pay attention… we didn’t see eye to eye pretty quickly, but I thought they were just misguided, you know? I thought that maybe, eventually, I could talk to them about all the things that I’d learned and show them that they were wrong. But I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what, sweetheart?” Bruce asked.

“That I was never their son. I was just a lab rat.”

“Danny,” Cass called softly.

Danny shook his head. “It’s true! They even said it: ‘you can love the test monkey, Danny, but you can’t let that get in the way of the experiment’. Apparently I was an easy monkey to care for. Not too demanding. Easy enough for them to just add to the effort they already put towards Jazz, their real kid. Easy enough to ignore when they wanted. For me it was all just… normal. Just how I grew up.”

Tim bumped Danny with his leg. “Don’t worry, Steph and I will teach you how to annoy everyone in this family so that they can’t ignore you.”

The little snort of laughter Danny made seemed to surprise even him.

“Not that we would want to ignore you anyways, Dandelion,” Jason said. “We’re not perfect, but we’re family. Real family.”

Danny leaned back against Jason’s legs, a faint smile on his lips. Dick felt something in himself unwind at the sight. Jason was right, they were far from perfect, but they were family and they would be there for Danny always. It would talk time, a lot of time, but Danny would be alright. And all along healing he’d be loved.

Bab’s caught Dick’s eye. She clearly had more to tell, but Dick shook his head slightly. Give everyone a moment. Let everyone process and drink their hot chocolate and eat some of the cookies that Alfred brought with his impeccable timing. When everything was calmer and the cookies almost gone, Dick got up and returned to his seat by Babs. He touched her wrist gently. It was as good as time as any.

“So I’ve figured out when the Fentons visited Gotham,” Babs said. An old, poor quality image of a convention banner popped up on the television. It was for alternative energies. Next to it was a list of booths, the Fenton’s ‘Ectoplasm Energy’ booth highlighted. “But what I don’t understand is why they chose to clone Bruce. They never tried to use it as a claim for child support or any of the obvious reasons someone would clone a Wayne for.”

“I, um, never knew the when,” Danny said, squinting at the images. “I didn’t… I didn’t even find out the who until I was escaping. It was stupid to stop and look, they could have come back at any moment, but I had to know, you know? But I know the why. Bruce registers as a liminal. I would bet all of you do except for Steph and maybe Alfred. Well, Jason is more like me and Dami is something other, something more. Duke’s totally different.”

Bruce leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Liminal.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah. It can—like, it’s not the best term, really, because it can mean a lot. A lot of exposure to death, exposure to death at key moments, being somewhere liminal for a really long time, or longterm exposure to ectoplasm can cause it.”

“Is it dangerous?” Tim asked, mouth twisted in a curious frown.

“No,” Danny said quickly. “Think of it sorta like a meta gene? Some people are more susceptible to being liminal and liminals, if exposed to the right… incentives, can develop… not powers but kinda? Or, if things go really wrong, can turn into a halfa.

“My—the Fentons are really immune to being liminal, they learned that in college when their lab partner got really sick and then later turned into a halfa. I dodn’t know if… I don’t know if they would have tried to use Jazz like that did me if not. I don’t think so but… well, they didn’t have to worry about her when they exposed me to all sorts of stuff around the house growing up.”

“They chose to clone me simply because I was a liminal?” Bruce asked. He sounded befuddled.

To be fair, it was like the weirdest reason ever to clone Bruce Wayne and Batman.

“Yeah. A strong one,” Danny said. “Gotham itself is pretty liminal and you’re, you know, both her knight and her prince. I think you were sort of like the perfect choice for them to pick. I guess you went to the convention. They had you handle a device, it nicked you enough for them to get blood. They, um, would have played it off. Like they bragged, everyone always just thought D…Jack was just a bumbling fool. It let him get away with a lot.”

“They snagged Bruce’s blood and cloned you to just, what, have their own liminal?” Steph asked. Her nose scrunched up at the whole idea of it.

“Yeah. Apparently they tracking how much I was exposed to and what my levels where. I didn’t… I never noticed. It was just growing up. My, they always did my check ups. Experiments were left everywhere. I cleaned the lab. Sometimes hot dogs came back to life and attacked.”

“What?!” Duke squawked.

“One more reason to be vegetarian,” Damian tsked.

Danny just shrugged. “It was just life. But, um, I didn’t really get any powers or anything so they pushed things. They set it up for me to die and be exposed to a huge amount of ectoplasm at the same time.”

Dick stilled. “It was planned?”

“What?”

“You said they killed you, but it… that was planned. Killing you was planned?”

“Oh, yeah,” Danny said softly. “Like, I thought it was an accident, just being a stupid teen and not being safe enough around big science experiments. My friend just wanted a picture of me in the portal. It turned on and—”

Danny trailed off, fingers tight in Ursa’s fur.

“And halfa.” Cass said.

“And halfa,” Danny agreed. “Which I guess was the best outcome. I could have just died and been a ghost. It was proof that someone liminal enough could be dead and not at the same time. My, um, my friend Sam said I was responsible to fight the ghosts that the portal accident let out. It was just another way to test my powers and see how they grew. Not that, it wasn’t Sam testing me, but the Fentons would let ghosts ‘escape’ and I would fight them and get new skills.”

“You were a hero, Master Danny?” Alfred asked with a purposeful look to Bruce.

Bruce had the good graces to look a little chagrined. “It just seems part of the make up at this point?”

Danny smiled a little. “I guess. I went by Phantom. The city didn’t always like me, the ghosts could cause a lot of damage, but nothing ever got too bad. I really thought I was doing something important.”

“You were,” Tim insisted. “Even if the Fentons were the real villain behind it all, you still dealt with the threats that you knew about.”

“…I guess?” Danny agreed doubtfully. “I don’t know if it matters when they just were waiting for my powers to stagnate. Apparently they had pressure from the group that was funding them, the GWI, for results so they moved up their time line. I went to sleep and woke up in a box in a GIW lab. Then I was just a lab rat. I was just something to experiment on and cut into and—and—”

Dick moved to the floor and Danny’s side, pulling his newest little brother into a tight hug. “Don’t. You don’t have to think about that anymore.”

They had seen the scars.

They knew the sort of things that Danny had been through.

That those monsters had done.

Danny didn’t need to relive any of it just to try and explain things to them. Part of Dick wanted to protect his other siblings from having to be exposed to those horrors too, even with everything else they had been through. Danny sniffled wetly and buried his face into Dick’s shoulder. Hitched sobs wracked his body. Ursa huffed and tried to lick Danny’s chin. Damian leaned closer.

Dick looked up at Jason who was already watching Dick with a question in his gaze. Jason didn’t listen to anyone, not really, but this was a family mater and Dick was the oldest child. It was his call. Dick didn’t even hesitate to nod.

Jason looked viciously pleased.

Jason and Tim could handle the Fentons. The Titans would see to the GWI. The Justice League could deal with any fallout. The family would protect their own.

Dick pulled Danny closer as he let him cry.

---

AN: *lies down dead like Danny* this chapter was exhausting to write. I hope you all like it and it feels full.

[daenysx]

hiiii I’m not sure if you take nsfw requests but I was thinking about if modern aemond’s gf was too stressed that it was taking longer for her to finish and she fakes her climax, how aemond would react? If you don’t do nsfw just maybe something similar where she is so stressed but won’t communicate it and his reaction when she hides it from him?

soft!aemond is back!! i mean kind of lol. i really hope you like this, i'm taking nsfw requests if you have any, thank you for requesting! <333 (title is from a lana del rey song, the pics aren't mine i got them from pinterest)

wc: 2.9k

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, smut ♡ (also fluff, tiny tiny bit of angst?)

burning desire

aemond is in a good mood this evening.

the summer rain hits the window, you kiss your boyfriend to the sound of rain. aemond's body is a nice weight against your body. he kisses you calmly, long fingers rub the soft skin of your waist.

your head is full of things these days. you try to stop overthinking, you're unable to sleep at nights, mindlessly scrolling your phone for hours just because you can't solve any problems. there's not much to solve, not really, you only have to wait to settle down with everything that keeps your mind busy. it's not so easy, though, you're impatient, sometimes eager to doubt yourself and every little decision you made. the stress weighs down on you. you focus on aemond's lips instead.

he's been out of town for the past week. now, he's on your bed with you laying under him. he doesn't say how much he missed you but the kisses are the proof of it. he makes little sounds, doesn't stop until you are desperate for breathing. he looks at you through a hazy eye, his pretty lips swollen and pinkish.

"i missed you." you mumble. "it's hard to deal with things without you."

aemond looks at you with an unreadable expression. you think he likes what you say, he enjoys how much you want him with you. he smiles slyly, fucking attractive, he's gonna test all your patience.

he holds the back of your neck without saying anything, fingers curled in your hair to pull your head back. your entire neck is exposed, you moan when he presses his lips on your pulse point. he gives you a big kiss, the kind of kiss you could lose your mind over. he doesn't leave a mark but it's still nice. his lips draw a line on your collarbone.

"i missed you, too." he says, quietly. "pretty girl."

his fingers play with the waistband of your shorts. the sound of thunderstorm is louder when you're both quiet. aemond pushes your tank top to your breasts, he kisses your belly. you push yourself against his mouth, feeling him loving on you is so nice. he plays with you until you arch your back, you look at him with widened eyes.

"please." you say. he kisses your hipbone.

"gotta tell me what you want." he says. "you know you won't get it otherwise."

his devilish smirk makes your thighs clench. you take a deep breath, your mind feels like it's full of empty bubbles. his touch is cool against your bare skin, he rubs the back of your thighs with his huge hands.

"i'm waiting." he says, gets on his knees on bed. "tell me."

you lift your hips to show what you want. "can you take it off?" you ask. you take your tank top off without asking him. his eye shines when he sees your bare chest.

"of course." he tells you, his fingers move on your shorts. "such a nice girl."

you get more and more impatient with each second. aemond takes off his shirt, your hands touch all the way on his chest to his happy trail. his hipbones are sharp against the fabric of his pants, your breathing quickens to the image of his defined muscles. you can see the outline of his half hard cock, aemond tilts his head back and groans when you touch him through his pants.

"wait." he says. "i'm not gonna last if you keep touching me like that."

you just squeeze him gently one last time. "you didn't even take your clothes off." you say cheekily. "i wanna touch you without them." you whisper.

aemond smiles. it's a perfect smile, his lips curved because of your obvious desire. he sees how hard your nipples get with chilly air of the room, your panties getting wetter as you touch him, your eyes have the look of want and something different in them. he is quick to get rid of his clothes as you wish. you don't move until he gets back on top of you, only the thin fabric of your panties separates you from his cock.

he kisses you for a good minute. you cup his cheeks, happy to hide from the world with his long hair falling around your face. he presses himself to your center, it feels different than it used to. you don't know the reason, maybe you missed him too much, maybe your body tries to remember how his touch affects you. he's more patient than you, even though it's clear how much he needs to release.

"aemond." you mumble, wrapping your legs around his waist at the same time.

"hmm?" he sucks your jawline softly. he's so pretty, you think you'll lose your mind.

"i feel like-" you start, unable to finish any thought. your mind is too full these days. "can you please do something?"

you press yourself harder against him with the last piece of strength you could find. aemond pushes your panties aside. your cunt glints with the wetness but he still wants to prepare you. "it's okay." he reassures you. your eyes are closed, like you're trying to focus. "you just gotta be patient for me, okay?"

you nod. aemond thinks you might be the sweetest thing in his world. he pushes a finger inside you gently with his thumb on your clit. you moan silently, your body needs to relieve the tension, it keeps you awake every night. aemond moves his finger slowly, getting as many sounds from you as he can to guide himself. you part your legs for him, he settles down.

you feel like you're lost in the feelings he gives you. it's weird for a second then it's not. he pushes a second finger in, the stretch is tight but he likes it very much when you clench around him. "aemond, hmm-" you make incoherent sounds. you hold his face to kiss him as his fingers work inside you.

"do you feel good?" he asks. "is it good, baby?"

fuck, you love it so much when he calls you baby. you nod, saying yes three times. his touch is fire, you don't escape. he is hard against your leg, so hard, so bold. you moan again, your brain goes through a haze.

aemond keeps fingering you, his thumb rubs your clit with circles. the touch is nice to feel, you tilt your head back when it gets unbearable. he smiles wickedly as you keep saying his name. you look like you're lost in him.

"are you gonna come for me?" he asks with slow words against your ear. you think you will. "gonna be my nice girl and come around my fingers?"

his words feel wonderful and for a second you really believe you'll come against his hand. you try to open your eyes, aemond keeps moving his fingers quicker. you think you need to push yourself against him to make your body relax. it'll work. it always does.

but then it doesn't. your body doesn't relax, it's still too tense, too tight. you make a sound as if you're coming, aemond's eye is closed. you don't know why it happens, you feel like somethin's wrong. it's never happened before. your voice is too real to him, for a second he actually believes you orgasmed. you don't say anything.

it feels like you'll disappoint him if you say it was fake. you didn't do it on purpose and your body surprised even you, you faked an orgasm for the first time with aemond. you feel upset for a moment, his fingers get still inside you. you put your poor body on bed, quit arching your back. your mind places walls between you and your pleasure.

your boyfriend opens his eye to your tired face. he pulls his fingers, giving you a smile. he's still undeniably hard but he doesn't move, waiting for you to say something.

"what-" he begins, you reach for his hand. "are you okay?"

you think he'll be upset to find out you faked your pleasure. he definitely would understand if you tell him but you still feel tired. you feel hungry for his touch, hungry for a piece of relief. you don't know how to control your mind, how to ease off your worries and all the stress you've been carrying.

"i'm okay." you say. you squeeze his fingers.

"i don't believe it." he says, sitting on bed. "you don't look okay, did i- did i hurt you?"

you shake your head quickly. "no, of course not. i would tell you, you know it."

"then what?" he asks. he pushes his hair back. "you never look like this after you come, i'm sure of it. you should tell me if something's wrong."

you force yourself to sit next to him. your hand is still holding his. "nothing's wrong." you begin, trying to find words. "it's just-"

aemond holds your cheek in his hand. "tell me." he demands softly.

"i was sure, i was gonna finish." you say. it's the truth. "but i couldn't, not really. i mean it felt good but-"

"you didn't finish." he completes. "but you sounded like-"

"i didn't mean to fake it, i promise." you say. "i thought it would be okay, like it always is but- it didn't, but i'd never fake it with you."

aemond's face is strange, like he's embarrassed. he's thinking. is it his fault? did he fail to take care of you? did you need to fake it to finish early? he likes giving you pleasure, he likes giving what you ask of him. he knows you trust him enough to let him take care of you, and he likes it so much when you take care of him. the bond between you two is something precious, it upsets him to see you unsure and sad about it.

"i should've prepared you better." he says. "maybe you weren't ready. i was fast."

"no." you say, kissing his cheek to get closer. "it's probably because i'm too much in my head these days. it's nothing to do with you, baby, you know stress can have these kind of effects."

"what's bothering you?" aemond asks gently. "why are you so stressed?"

"i don't know." you answer honestly. "i really don't. it's too many things about the school and other stuff, and you weren't here. it's easy to get lost in problems when you're not around."

he pulls you to his lap. rain hits harder on windows. "you know- you know you can tell me anything. i'd never force you to have sex with me if you're not in the mood. if i'd known-"

"no!" you stop him. it's far from what happened and this time he gets in his head. "i wanted it so much. i still want it, aemond, i promise. i need you, i need to relax. i just don't know how to do it- how to get out of my head."

"do you still want it?" he asks, just to be sure. "do you want me to make you come?"

you nod, taking a breath to relax the tension on your shoulders. "please."

"i can talk you through it." he says, putting your body on bed under him. "if you can only focus on my voice and nothing else, i can help you relax."

"but what if i-"

"it's okay if you can't finish." he interrupts you. "don't go hard on yourself. you just gotta tell me when it does and doesn't feel good."

"okay." you say, desperate to feel his hands all over you again. it feels good to ask for his help.

"good." he says, with a deep voice. "i'll make you feel better." he promises.

your head goes back to let him kiss your neck, he kisses the same spots as he did minutes ago. you hold his hand, it doesn't take too much for him to get hard again. it's been a week since you last had sex. aemond doesn't like touching himself without you ever since you first made him come. it's addicting to feel your softness against his cock, he feels poorly when he tries to do it himself.

"i need it." you say, numbly. "please."

he holds your waist, kissing the top of your cunt softly. "trust me." he says. "don't worry."

he kisses your swollen clit. it aches with want, you want to have him so much, it hurts your head. he sucks to relieve a bit of tension. "yes." you whisper. "more, please."

he sucks for a nice minute. you part your legs, your wetness mixes with his spit. he's never been ashamed with his intentions but he feels bolder this time. pressing his cock to soft bed under him, he grunts against your cunt.

"i can't take it." you cry. "you need to do something, i feel like i'm losing my mind."

he kisses your belly. "sweetheart." he speaks softer than he ever does. "you're not losing your mind. you just need to be patient with yourself."

you feel a teardrop roll on your cheek out of pleasure. "okay." you say, pulling him back on his spot between your legs.

when he's sure you're wet enough, aemond strokes his cock. the tip of it is dark pink, so sensitive, so needy. he knows he'll feel good when he gets inside of you, he rubs himself nicely before placing himself properly against your hole.

"are you okay?" he asks against your ear. you nod, he relaxes. his back arching towards you gracefully, his cock finally getting what it wants as he pushes himself inside slowly.

you moan, tilting your head back. it's so sweet, you sound wet when he pushes a bit more. he moves his hips carefully, grunts softly when he can breathe against your chest.

"you feel so good, you know that?" he asks, almost begging. "i missed having you like this, all mine, all needy for me."

"i missed you, too." you cry out. the pleasure is blinding when he presses his fingers on your wet clit. "i missed you so much." you hug him, it's more intimate than it ever has been. rain sounds cover your little whispers, you kiss the skin beneath his ear.

"never gonna leave you again." he promises. he keeps moving, pushing himself fully inside. "never gonna leave you lost in your pretty head."

"please." you say. "please, baby, help."

you're too sweet on him, calling him baby when he's desperate to get you come. he feels himself getting closer to his peak but that's not his priority right now.

he hits your g-spot for the first time that evening and you moan loudly. he smiles, kissing your forehead. "relax." he says. "i got you."

"right there." you mumble. "so- so good."

he moves gracefully, hitting the same spot over and over again, his stamina helps him delaying his own climax. you're all spread out under him, he sucks one of your nipples when your chest gets heavy with deep breaths. he holds your hands on top of your head, fucking into you sweetly with hard motions.

"i can feel it." he says. "you're so close, right? so pretty, you should see yourself."

"close." you murmur. "i need it."

he keeps fucking you until you finally snap. your mind goes blank, it's all him. his scent overwhelmes you, surrounds you and there's nothing else. aemond targaryen is everywhere, he doesn't stop until the tightness disappears. arching your back for the last time, your wetness stains the sheets.

aemond can't keep himself any longer. "come for me." you beg. "please, come for me, i need to feel you."

who's he to deny your wishes? he comes hard, grunting, moaning your name. your thighs, your cunt, the sheets, all covered in white cum. he lets out a breath, shaken up by your cunt. "fuck." he whispers, putting his head on your chest. he's spent.

it takes a few minutes for you to get back to yourself. your fingers in his hair, his hands around you, his head on your chest. you stay like this until your mind feels like you again. you are exhausted, finally feel like you'll get a good night sleep.

"that felt pretty real to me." aemond teases when he lifts his head to see you.

"it was." you smile. "it felt so good."

aemond leaves the bed to get a clean towel from the bathroom. he comes back, cleans you up as good as he can. "help me, sweetheart." he says. "can you lift your hips?"

you do as he says, he leaves again. you feel good, your muscles spent for him, your head in that hazy space. you have a lovesick smile on your face when aemond comes back, wearing a clean pair of boxers.

"you'll get cold." he says, helping you wear one of his shirts and clean panties. "it's still raining."

"it's nice." you whisper. "can we sleep now?"

aemond kisses the side of your head. "yes. after you drink this."

he hands you a glass of water, you take three sips. aemond joins you under the covers, you wrap yourself around him instantly. he rubs your shoulder softly, you kiss his neck before burying yourself against him.

"thank you." you whisper. "for taking care of me."

"you think i could leave my girl alone when she needs me?" he says with a low voice. "i'm glad you never need to fake anything with me."

"i trust you." you say, finally falling asleep on him. three words aemond has barely heard before he met you. he thinks it's a nice weight to carry someone's trust. especially yours. you trust him with your body, with your mind. he kisses your head. your hand twitch against his waist in your sleep. he holds your hand through the night.

♡

[kokokoula]

drunk confessions

a/n: wow i haven't posted in a long while hahaha thanks for staying :) i'm so burnt out from exams please tolerate me🥲 again, not beta read, my beta reader is busy as heck because of a hellish sch system. also, i wrote all of this at 3am, i hope it's still readable TT (this is obvi in timeskip no underage drinking guys)

---

"i think i love you."

you rest your head on your palm, gazing at him with soft eyes and warm cheeks. you reek of alcohol; tsukishima doesn't seem to care.

the two of you sit by the bar at the far end, where the light jazz music gets faint. he's thinking clearly, only a bit red from a drink or two— or is it something else?— while you're flat out drunk. his eyes widen slightly at your confession, and pauses.

"don't say things you don't mean." tsukishima eventually brushes you off, pushing his glasses further up. despite that, his heart beats a little faster, and he hates it.

you splay out your arms across the countertop, burying your face in them. he takes the last swig of his drink. there is the distant sound of glasses clinking and a cheer.

"tsukki?" his name is a bit slurred as you turn to him again. your hair is in a tangled mess, locks of it falling over your eyes. he resists the urge to tuck them away and behind your ear.

tsukishima nudges your foot: a sign to continue.

"y'know, when i first met you, i thought you were an arrogant, self-centred bastard. i hated you." you state, fiddling with your empty shot glass. wow, and just when he thought things were getting intimate.

"where exactly are you going with this?" he frowns at you.

"we used to bicker about almost everything at school. i can't count how many times yamaguchi had to step in." you giggle, hiccuping at the end. you didn't seem to have heard him but he doesn't mind. he shakes his head, a small smile appearing on his face; you look so cute being lost in your own world.

"remember it was our last class, and it happened to rain that day? you laughed at me because i didn't bring an umbrella." yes, he remembers. tadashi was sick that day, and the both of you ended up getting lectured many times by teachers for your incessant arguments. he almost chuckles at the thought of it.

"i didn't expect to find your umbrella in my shoe locker after you left, though. you said you had an extra when i confronted you about it but yamaguchi already told me you had returned home drenched." tsukishima's face starts to burn. shit, being reminded of how down bad he was—and still is— is embarrassing. he wishes he was much cooler about it.

"i couldn't accept that you were capable of being nice, let alone to me..." it's even more so because of you.

"...till i realised you're nothing like what i thought you were. you admit your own faults, are too hard on yourself, and incredibly encouraging of your friends in your own complicated way. hell, even to hinata and kageyama!" you're sitting upright now, your hands making exaggerated movements as you talk. you take a deep breath in.

"it's your fault that i can't stop thinking about you, and that i get so sickeningly happy when i see you. so shuddup, i do mean it when i said i think, no wait, i know i love you." you rebuke him, pointing your finger at him like an angry child.

you have done it. you've lit his face on fire with your words. he can't tear his eyes away from your piercing gaze.

tsukishima isn't the most affectionate person, but maybe it's the late hour, or the influence of the alcohol, because he reaches over to caress the back of your head and bring you closer to him. his lips softly presses against your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before pulling away. he sees your eyes sparkle.

since kei believes actions speak louder than words, he hopes you know that this, everything, means something to him.

bonus

[justporo]

Astarion would probably be super condescending about cute little displays of afffection at first.

Because that's the stuff happy couples did, people who didn't have to worry about anything, who didn't have to suffer and who could just be blissfully oblivious. He used to hate that.

And then for the stuff he had to do for the past 200 years it was mostly straight to the point, no need to be all lovey-dovey - and it would probably have only hurt more if he'd done that.

So when he gets into a relationship that continuously gives him butterflies, he still can't help to feel icky when Tav does those little things at first: grabbing his hand and squeezing it, rubbing a hand down his back, quick peck on the lips, the nose, the forehead, sitting next to him and snuggling up against his arm.

But he so desperately wants to enjoy it. He wants to be close to Tav - as close as possible and wallow in their warmth and love

Astarion catches himself thinking about it constantly how it feels: how he feels tension leave his body when Tav wraps their arms around them, how he feels himself become calmer under your touch, how even the tiniest bit of affection makes his undead heart ache with love for you.

It does feel nice, so wonderful - but it's hard to unlearn what kept you alive for such a long time.

But the longer he gets to revel in the simple joy of a short, warm touch of his loved one the easier it gets. Astarion finds he starts to yearn for Tav and their affection, craves them physically and that he gets impatient when he has to go without them for too long.

And it becomes the feeling of soft summer rain falling onto his face, the sound of soft winds rustling through tall grass and the trees, the sensation of a cat purring on his lap, the smell of flowers and herbs drifting into his nose, the moment of sinking onto a plush bed after a long day - it becomes his own piece of heaven he always thought he was denied.

It takes even longer though until he himself comes up to Tav and asks for that kind of interaction that give him so much inner peace. And the first time he grabs Tav's hand it might almost startle them from surprise, almost making Astarion drop the whole thing altogether. But this also gets easier. With time showing his affection and feeling alright with wanting to indulge in it becomes second nature.

And then one day, Astarion finds he engages in the affectionate little gestures so openly and without thinking as if he'd never struggled with that at all. He doesn't even notice anymore.

And Tav cries when they realise that, how far he's come, how much he's healed. And squeezes Astarion even harder to their heart.

Taglist: @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @azukiel @hereliesblackdragon

[theemporium]

don't usually request but you hit 10k on my birthday and i had something on my mind

maybe some slow build up of smut-berry with 47 for oscar where they couldn't celebrate her birthday because of the australian grand prix falling on the same weekend and her family wanted to be with her, so when they see each other again he decides to do everything he can to make it up to her...

idk i love ur writing 🧡

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

47. “You heard me. I want you to sit on my face.”

.

Oscar loved being a Formula One driver. 

It was his ultimate dream as a kid and now it was a reality. He knew he was luckier than most, getting to a job he loved so dearly. And he knew not many people even made it to Formula One and stayed. But he was lucky and he never took it for granted, even if there were downsides to the job. 

The media wasn’t his favourite thing in the world. And the conferences and interviews got a bit tedious every other weekend. The constant jet lag also wasn’t ideal. And he didn’t really fully grasp the world fame sometimes, it was hard to forget he was just another guy showing up at his job every weekend. 

But the worst was the important dates and events he missed because of his job. The events and duties he could not get out of no matter what because they were a part of his contract. He missed out on important things for the most important people in his life. 

Like your birthday. 

“M’sorry,” Oscar apologised for the umpteenth time as he laid in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling above him as he held his phone to his ear. “I really tried to find a way out of it but Zak said no and—”

“Oscar, baby, it’s okay,” you smiled softly as you leaned back in your seat, a cup of coffee in your hand. “I know you would be here if you could. I promise I don’t mind, it just means we can have our own celebration later.” 

His lips twitched at the thought. “I am gonna give you the best late-birthday party ever.” 

You hummed. “Oh yeah? Tell me about it, Piastri.” 

“Gonna book us to go away somewhere,” Oscar said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Somewhere we can hide. Just me and you and the sun.” 

“That sounds nice,” you sighed, almost wistfully. “It’s raining here.”

“No rain, promise,” he assured you. “Every night we are there, we will dress up and go out. I’ll even wear that shirt you really like—the black one.” 

“Oh, you’re spoiling me,” you teased but your smile only widened as you continued to listen.” 

“Maybe try some new things as well,” Oscar continued as he closed his eyes, listening to hum as a way to tell him to elaborate. “Maybe we can go paragliding. Or go on a safari. Maybe you can sit on my face.” 

You spluttered, your eyes widening in response as you quickly placed your coffee cup down and wiped your hand across your face. “Oscar!” 

He tried not to smile. “What?” 

“You—” You cleared your throat a little, your cheeks burning as you tried to find your words. “Huh?” 

“You heard me. I want you to sit on my face,” Oscar said, deadpan and so-Oscar that it made your head spin a little knowing he was dead serious. “Think you’ll look really pretty from that angle, perfect for the birthday girl.”

You shook your head. “You need to be muzzled.” 

“We can try that too, if that’s something you’re into,” Oscar retorted, laughing a little when you let out another incoherent squeak. “Don’t die, baby, we have a holiday to look forward to together.”

“Fuck off, Piastri.” 

“We are gonna do a lot of fucking—”

“Oscar!”

.

[woso-story]

Meeting By Chance - Part One

Leah Williamson x Reader - Part Two Three

London’s familiar rain pelted down in a steady rhythm, the kind of drizzle that seemed to define the city’s atmosphere. Leah pulled her hood tighter around her face, her training bag slung over one shoulder. The day at Arsenal’s training grounds had been relentless. Every pass, every drill, every tactic had been scrutinized under the pressure of upcoming Champions League group-stage matches and critical league fixtures.

Her muscles ached, and her mind churned with strategy and self-critique. All she wanted now was the small comfort of her favorite coffee shop—a warm drink to cut through the cold and the ever-present stress.

Pushing open the door, she barely noticed the soft jingle of the bell or the inviting hum of conversation inside. Her thoughts were elsewhere, her gaze cast downward as she muttered, “Bloody rain, as if today couldn’t get any worse.”

She didn’t see you.

You were just stepping out, your coffee in hand and a desperate hope that the caffeine would salvage your miserable day. Between your boss’s unreasonable demands and the train delays that had made you late, you were already on edge. And now? Now, there was coffee splattered across your favorite sweater.

The collision felt almost cinematic in its chaos. Your gasp echoed as the hot liquid seeped into your clothes, spreading rapidly. You stared down, utterly frozen, as the reality sank in—your sweater, your jeans, even your shoes, all ruined.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” The blonde woman in front of you was already babbling, her hands darting to grab napkins from the counter. Her hood had fallen back in the commotion, revealing striking blue eyes and flushed cheeks. “I wasn’t looking. I—this is completely my fault.”

You looked up, your frustration bubbling to the surface. You were about to let loose, to say something about how people needed to pay attention, when you stopped.

She was breathtaking.

Even as she clumsily offered you tissues, her features were a mix of elegance and sincerity. Her eyes held yours, wide with concern, and for a moment, you forgot about the coffee dripping from your clothes.

“Here,” she said, pressing the napkins into your hands. “I—I can’t believe I just did that. Let me help. Please.”

You took the tissues, though you knew they wouldn’t save your sweater. “It’s... fine,” you said, though your voice carried a hint of irritation.

“It’s not fine,” she insisted, her gaze darting from the stains to your face. “Your sweater’s ruined. I’ll pay for the cleaning. And for your coffee. Please, let me.”

You sighed, exasperated but strangely disarmed by her earnestness. “It's okay. Really.”

But she was already at the counter, ordering your replacement drink. You watched as she handed over her card, her lips pursed with determination. When she turned back to you, the remorse in her eyes was palpable.

As the two of you waited for your drinks, she extended her hand. “I’m Leah, by the way. Leah Williamson.”

The name sounded familiar, but you were too distracted to place it. You shook her hand, introducing yourself. Her grip was firm but gentle, and the warmth lingered even after she let go.

When your drinks were ready, she handed you yours with a sheepish smile. “I still feel terrible. Are you sure I can’t do anything else to make it up to you?”

You hesitated, not wanting to prolong the interaction but also unable to ignore the pull you felt toward her. “It’s really okay,” you said, but she cut you off.

“At least let me take you out to dinner,” she said quickly. “As an apology. Please.”

Dinner? The idea felt strange, but there was something in her voice, a vulnerability that made it hard to say no. You thought about your day—how terrible it had been—and realized that maybe this odd encounter was the highlight you hadn’t expected.

“All right,” you said finally. “Dinner sounds nice.”

Leah’s face brightened instantly, and she pulled out her phone. “Can I get your number? I’ll text you the details. How about Friday?”

“Friday works,” you said, exchanging numbers with her.

As you turned to leave, you glanced back over your shoulder. She was still standing there, her phone in hand, a small smile playing on her lips as she stared at the new contact she’d just saved.

You stepped back out into the rain, but this time, it didn’t feel so dreary. Despite your ruined outfit, you felt lighter, almost giddy. A laugh bubbled up, and you couldn’t help but shake your head at the absurdity of it all.

Meanwhile, Leah lingered in the coffee shop, her drink untouched. She couldn’t believe what had just happened—or how relieved she felt that you’d said yes. Friday couldn’t come soon enough, and for the first time all day, the stress of football seemed like a distant memory.

As she stepped back out into the rain, her thoughts weren’t on the Champions League or league standings anymore. They were on you, the stranger she’d run into—literally—and the chance she’d been given to make it up to you.

Perhaps it wasn’t just an apology dinner. Perhaps it was the start of something neither of you had expected.

[inkdrinkerworld]

soft dom!remus x reader who lives with a. family member who's not so nice and always tries to embarrass her or make her feel bad about herself? my grandmas like this and i'm just so tired of it lol. obviously you do not have to write this if you don't feel comfy, i love you and ur writing !

that's so mean and i hope you can get out of there soon doll <3 hopefully this can bring you some comfort for a little bit.

You call Remus while you're just on the brink of tears.

"Hey dovey," he sounds so happy and upbeat you debate if you should tell him. At your silence, Remus speaks again. "Are you okay, dove?"

You sigh, all shaky and broken and Remus coos on the other end of the phone call.

"Not really." you mumble, picking at a scabbed mosquito bite on your thigh. If Remus were here, he'd take your hands in his and give your fingers a squeeze, but he isn't here and picking at the scab helps you to keep your breathing even.

"What happened, baby?" you can hear him shuffling. "Need me to come get you?"

"They're just being mean again, and no one does anything." you flop onto your bed, head hitting one of your stuffies and you grab onto it's leg.

"Every time I say anything I'm the bad guy. I can't" your breath shudders with the realisation of what you're going to say. You can't live here anymore. "I don't think I can stay here anymore."

Remus sighs harsh down the line, wanting desperately to be near you so he can pull you into his lap and tell you he'll make everything okay.

He settles for doing it over the phone while he starts his car. "Pack your bags baby," you frown.

"Everything?" you ask shakily and though you can't see, Remus smiles. Remus had said they only had one last chance, when you'd driven to his house in tears and shaking so hard he'd been worried that you were going to pass out.

"Everything, dove." You don't hesitate and start packing everything you own away into a suitcase.

You don't have much, just clothes, your prized stuffed toys, shoes [which are on your feet] and your books. Everything fits tidily into the suitcase and a carryon.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes, and you can stay with me." Remus says it like it's the easiest thing in the world- your moving in with him. Like it won't possibly cause more problems in this house, which it might, but he doesn't want you to factor in their feelings anymore.

"You deserve a home that's peaceful, not one filled with shouting and screaming and mean names, dovey." he says it so softly you can't help the way your breath hitches and the tears finally tumble down your cheeks.

"Yeah," you murmur, wiping at your tears and sighing. "I'll wait for you on the front step."

Remus really wishes he could be there now. He also knows why you want to wait on the front step, because then he doesn't have to come in and give everyone in the house a piece of his mind before whisking you away.

"Make sure you have an umbrella and your sweater, it's gonna start raining." you're already wearing his green one, with the yours and his initials stitched into the wrist cuff.

"Thanks Remmy," you sniffle and grabs your thighs and start hauling them to the door.

"No need for that dove, I'm ten minutes out. We can go to the store after, see if they have any of your favourite gummies. Forgot to stock up after this weekend."

You smile, you'd like nothing more. "I'll be waiting, Remmy."

[ominium]

farewell

character : gojo s. (i only say his name once, so if you wanna insert anyone else...won't blame ya) context : your husband forgets who you were (amnesia) and hangs out with his high school fling more than you :( pov : first person (reader) content : angst no comfort (letter no response)

note(s) yeah idk, had this thought at 5:00 am and, after a few days, decided to finally write it out also gojo likes his eggs scrambled here with reader. yea idk if u think he'd prefer runny yolk then oops

—

In another universe, we would have grown old together.

As promised, we would have woken up in each other's arms, go on morning walks, share a sandwich, watch the birds fly by...

As promised, we would have grown a flower bed out in the countryside, have chats with our elderly neighbors every now and then, watch the sunset together...

When we first got back to our home after the accident, I had hope. I know it was hard for you to live with me, as you saw me as nothing more than a stranger, but I believed you could remember me. I had strength that our love would prevail, as cheesy as it sounds...I believed that you could remember me.

Every little aspect of our little life was still there. The way I still had to try extra hard to wake you up in the mornings, how you still enjoyed noodles that were a little overcooked and soaked with the broth, and even the way you sat on "your spot" of the couch. Everything was so endearing, and I wanted to believe that you hadn't changed.

The way you still greeted your old friends was all the same. Sure, you missed out on some memories, but for the most part, they didn't have to endure the pain of being asked, "who are you?"

It was nice to see some of your memories come back, too. When you had that nagging feeling that you just had to go to the local park, even though it was raining...all because it felt right. And it did. We used to take a walk on weekends to wind down and relax. Our hands intertwined, and just simply people watching. It re-lit what little faith I had left, and had me craving for more...more of you remembering our memories.

How you started going out every other evening to get some drinks. It seemed so...painfully absent in the home, but at least you were putting in the effort to remember.

So how...how is it that you seem to start remembering everything but me? How can you remember the way I liked my eggs scrambled, but not me? How could you remember how I liked the way I folded my clothes, but not me? How was my spot replaced with her?

Was it not strange that she would make you sunny-side up eggs, even though you said you didn't like the yolk runny? How she didn't walk the path you wanted to walk in the park? You brought her a beautiful bouquet wrapped in purple, yet the colors she surrounds herself with are yellow.

Why is it that I hear from Shoko that you were with her again? Why do I get messages from Megumi that you had to buy two bouquets, because you accidentally bought purple flowers again? Why is it that it seems you never come home to me? Why did I have to see your wedding ring on the bathroom floor. Forgotten.

Why do I wake up to an empty home, and go to bed alone now....

...You know, yesterday was our anniversary. I had bought a cake and even asked Yuuji to help me decorate the living room for us. It was...pretty awkward, to say the least, when he calls me and says you're at the bar with "that girl again."

To be honest, Satoru, I don't blame you. How could I? You experienced trauma, you have amnesia...you still see me as a stranger that just happens to live in the same home as you, and just happens to have a bunch of pictures with you, and even a wedding photo plastered in the bedroom wall. Right.

But it would've been nice if you had just...tried. Tried to come home to me. Try to spend time with me. Given me the bouquets because I love purple.

Tried to be the husband you promised you would be to me.

So here. I'm sure you've already seen them, but the divorce papers are under the letter. I've signed everything, and again I'm sure you've seen, but I grabbed all my essentials and left. You don't have to see me again. I placed our rings in the box they came in...thank goodness I saved it, despite you wanting me not to. You can do what you will with them...you did buy them anyways.

And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I couldn't give more time to you. I'm sorry if I didn't try hard enough. But, I'm sure you'd understand...you've got holes in your memories that everyone wants to fill.

and I've got whole memories that I can't share anymore.

[dontopenfairies]

“How long are you gonna be?”

“Just a second,” she called out from the bathroom, pulling her pants up over a dry pull-up. She washed and dried her hands quickly and hurried out to the living room. He was standing in the entry hall with his coat and hat on.

“Sorry,” she said, pulling on her shoes.

“That’s okay. I’m patient.”

She finished pulling her coat on and draped a scarf over her shoulders. They stepped outside into the brisk winter air. “Did you go in the toilet at all?” he asked as he locked the door.

She shook her head. “I haven’t since I got up this morning. And I kinda…”

“You kinda what?”

“Nothing,” she said, grabbing his hand through their mittens. They went down the stairs. It was hard for her to tell how badly she had to pee, especially when she also felt so comfortable a little bit turned on by the way he walked right next to her, up against her, and how he paused if his stride got wider than hers and waited for her to catch up.

When she caught him looking at her she reached over and ruffled his hair, shaking his head roughly.

“What?” he asked, straightening his glasses.

“Nothing!!” She felt her face stretch into a smile without even meaning to.

“I’m so nice to you,” he said. “And you’re so mean to me.”

She pulled his hand, walking faster and dragging him behind her.

“She’s doing it again!” he said, like he was talking to a third, imaginary person. “She’s beating me up all the time and she’s so rough with me! What did I do to her?”

She pulled him harder and they started to run a little bit, down the hill, slipping on the loose parts of the asphalt at the bottom.

He stopped to catch his breath. “You want to go to the antique store, right?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“And then the sushi place.”

“Yeah!”

They turned onto the sidewalk. The little bell on the door of the antique shop rang as they went inside. They immediately descended on the rack of clothes near the door. She slid the dresses and shirts along the rack, breathing in the warm, dusty antique store smell.

She definitely had to go now. She let a tiny, tiny bit out in her pull-up and it soaked quickly into the material.

After looking at the clothes, he wanted to check the vintage toys for anything new, and she stood behind him while he browsed the shelves.

“Anything good?” she asked after a while.

“Not really.” He straightened up. “Records for you and then let’s go?”

Unfortunately, there was nothing new in the record bins, either. They thanked the clerk and left through the little door again. She let a little bit more out in the pull-up as they walked down the street. Hardly anyone was out and little birds were flitting from the trees down to the sidewalk and back up again.

“Wait, I want to get a chocolate bar or something,” he said, and they ducked into the grocery store.

While he stooped at the candy shelf, she started to squirm a little bit, foot shuffling on the floor.

“This one.” He stood up, holding a bar of chocolate. “Do you want one?”

“I’m okay,” she said, feeling a little more pee saturate her pull-up. It felt so damp down there that even when the stream let up she couldn’t tell if she was still peeing, just a little bit slowly seeping out as they walked to the register.

Outside, clouds had rolled over the sun and it was getting colder. “Do you need my sweater for under your jacket?” he asked. “Your nose is getting pink.”

“I’m okay,” she said, putting her arm around his shoulder. “You keep your sweater.”

At the sushi place they got a table for two near the window. The food came out quickly, and after he signed the receipt he looked up at her across the table.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

She nodded.

“Okay, I’ll go too.” He stood up and took her hand. The bathrooms were only accessible by going outside in the back patio. It had started to rain.

He locked the bathroom door behind him and pulled down his pants, sitting on the toilet to pee.

The sound made her squirm again. “I still have to go really bad,” she said, pulling down her pants and revealing her pull-up.

“You’re barely damp,” he said.

She felt it. “Okay, I guess it felt wetter to me.”

“Just go, honey. It’s okay.”

“I still feel like I’m going to flood it,” she said.

“Just go ahead. It’s okay if you leak. It’s raining, anyway.”

“It’s cute how you sit down to pee,” she said as he buckled his belt.

“It’s cute how you go in diapers,” he said, crossing to the sink right next to her. “Did you go yet?”

“No. I’m a little bit locked up, I think.”

He turned on the sink full-blast and that was all that her body needed. A jet of pee hissed into her pull-up.

“There, doesn’t that feel better?” he said.

“Yeah.” She pulled her pants up. “Let’s go.”

“Whatever you want.” As he opened the door, she felt one last trickle come out. A little warmth spread on her upper thigh and even without looking she knew that she had leaked.

But her coat was long and it was pouring rain now. He laughed as he led her back inside the restaurant and out the door. “See?” he said, raising his hand to pretend to feel the rain, even though it was hard to ignore the cold water pelting them.

“Let’s go home,” she said. “Before it gets all cold and wet.”

“Riiiight,” he said, squeezing her hand.

[twstedreamweaver]

Missing Magazines

Octavinelle with a Fashion Model Reader

How would the Octavinelle boys react to you being a model? Based on the premise that you, the reader, are a model and are featured in a popular fashion magazine that Sam sells at the school - except when you go to buy one, you realize that someone bought out almost all the magazines. Who could it be?

Things to mention: Azul never stopped signing contracts with people and the Octotrio are still shady. Reader is slightly different from canon Yuu. Also, this is my first fanfic, so I apologize in advance for any inconsistencies with POV! Twisted Boys featured: Azul, Jade, Floyd

The warm sun was a welcome surprise after several dreary weeks of intermittent rains and grey skies. Throngs of students were happily milling about on the central lawn, some boys from Savanaclaw were throwing a Spelldrive Disc like a frisbee, and you spotted some Ignihyde students actually touching grass for once.

With the passing of the Spring rains, Night Raven College seemed to spring back to life with the touch of a little sunshine.

And just in time for the release of the summer edition of one of the top magazines in Twisted Wonderland, Fleurs de la mode. However, this edition was special - it was your first official modeling gig for a fashion magazine.

Admittedly, when you were first scouted by a modeling agent at the NRC's Song and Dance Championship, you were hesitant (I mean, after dealing with the outrageous amount of con artists at NRC, who wouldn't be skeptical), but the Fleur City Associates modeling agency turned out to be legitimate. After some back and forth with your agent, and several gigs later, you got the opportunity to model for a popular fashion magazine on account of your unique "otherworldly'" flair, which you assumed was a weird compliment from one of your managers. Regardless, your nerves had long since worn off with the first paycheck (thaumarks are hard to come by) and now you were excited to see your hard work in print.

"Welcome back, my little imp." Sam waved from behind the counter. "What can I conjure for you today?"

"Good morning, Sam!" You smiled, "I heard that you just got in the newest edition of Fleurs, could I buy one off you?"

Sam gave you a peculiar look, before smiling - wait, was that a trace of a smirk?

"I do apologize little imp, but I am fresh out of stock. Those magazines flew off the shelves this morning."

"Wait, but didn't you just open like thirty minutes ago?"

You were a bit disappointed. On one hand, you didn't really need the magazine, but on the other hand, it would've been nice to have at least some proof of your accomplishment in this strange world. At a school where magic was the highest priority, it was nice to finally be known for something that wasn't just your lack of magic ability.

"Yes but, eh hee hee, it seems the magazine was quite popular this time around." Sam snickered. You sighed.

"However," Sam continued, "You've lucked out this time little imp, For the same price as a magazine, I can tell you who bought out half my stock. I'm certain that you can get one from him for free!"

"Thanks Sam, for the, uh, considerate offer, but I think I'll pass!" You remarked, trying to think of who might have bought out such a large stock of magazines.

"Are you certain, my little imp?" Sam leaned over the counter, smiling, a bit too maliciously for your liking. "Don't you want to see your magazine debut firsthand?" Huh?

You were only featured on a few pages, so how did he even know you were in there? Did he actually read the fashion magazine? Looking at his attire, you find that highly doubtful.

"How'd you know about that?" You inquired, trying not to sound overtly suspicious.

"Why else would so many imps be standing in line outside my shop at seven in the morning?" Sam, for sure, was smirking this time.

No way. How did this get around? You felt your face go hot, suddenly embarrassed. Hold on, you reasoned with yourself. Vil is a model too, along with some other Pomefiore students, so students modeling shouldn't be a shock to anyone!

But if the reason the magazines sold out so quickly was - that is, if Sam's not tricking you - because of your shoot, then why would anyone buy half of the entire stock? Especially at Sam's ridiculous prices.

You sighed; you'll figure this out later.

"I'm good, Sam. Thanks for the offer, but I've got to get going to my next class." You quickly backed away from Sam and ducked out the front door before he could cut you off with another suspicious offer.

"Come back anytime little imp!" The door swinging shut behind you as Sam big you goodbye.

God, was there a single good person in this school??

Wait, a realization suddenly hit you. The guy who bought half the magazines, was it-

——-

You practically stomped across the school, through the mirror room, and into the Octavinelle dorm.

You didn't lie to Sam earlier; you really did have to go to class. And then after four classes and nearly eight hours, you had to go to club. So, now it was practically late afternoon, and you were only now on your mission to hunt down the buyer of some 60+ magazines.

The moment you stepped inside Mostro Lounge, two tall, ominous figures seemed to materialize directly beside you.

"Hello Jade. Hey Floyd."

"Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, before wrapping his long arms around your torso and squeezing tightly.

"Now now, Floyd," Jade smirked, "Let's not squeeze the life out of our little Prefect."

"I'm here to discuss some things with Azul." You told the two 6-foot-tall eels.

You must have sounded agitated because Floyd and Jade quickly took the hit and grabbed onto each of your arms respectively and dragged walked me to the VIP room.

"Now then, who are we to interfere with your business affairs?" Jade let go of your left arm to open the large, ornate VIP room doors.

"Only VIP access for our Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, striding into the VIP room where some student was groveling on his hands and knees, begging Azul for something. I noticed that he had a small anemone sprouting from his head, looks like Azul got another freshman. Grinning, Floyd roughly grabbed the poor student by his shirt collar and unceremoniously threw him out the door.

Jade sinisterly smiled at the boy, before bending down to say something in a hushed tone, causing the boy to squeal and shuffle away frantically. Jade smirked, stood, and walked over to stand beside the seated and slightly flustered Azul, as Floyd slammed the doors.

For once, and to my astonishment, Azul, usually the pristine image of a savvy businessman, looked a little nervous.

You were surprised that he didn't even object to Floyd tossing his client (more likely his victim, given the anemone) out.

Azul pursued his lips and tented his fingers on the table, before taking a breath and seeming to regain his composure.

"Why, (Y/N), to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?"

Azul typically spoke formally and eloquently, but given your and his relationship as friends, his behavior was a little, unusual. Something smelled fishy, and it wasn't the fish swimming outside or the mermen in the room.

You chalked it up to your own misunderstanding of the situation, or to Azul already going into business mode to prepare for what was coming.

"I'm here about the Fleur magazines you bought."

For a brief second, the three (well, more like two, Floyd just seemed slightly humored) seemed to go pale. Azul gave you a blank stare, mouth slightly open, and Jade turned away to focus intently on the wall with a trace of a grimace on his face. Floyd chuckled and looked at Azul.

Weirdos. What is up with them today?

"You're reselling those Fleur magazines for a profit, aren't you?" You continued on.

A brief moment passed. Jade turned back to look at you and Azul quickly snapped back to reality with a small laugh and a smirk.

"Yes! Why, you deduce correctly, Prefect, I did buy the remaining stock in order to resell them. They're quite in high demand, given your popularity amongst the student body."

"I apologize if you wanted to buy one, but I couldn't miss such a lucrative and perfectly legal business opportunity!" Azul cloyingly apologized, gesturing with his hands in a show of mock apology.

Floyd and Jade nodded along in fake sincerity. Seems you guessed right after all.

"Okay, seeing that you're admitting it, I'm not really that mad. But, also, seeing that you're going to profit off my face, I have a proposal."

The three leaned forward. "Do go on," Azul nodded.

"I can sign my picture in one of the magazines, so you can ramp up the price, and, in return, I can get a free magazine."

"Done!" Azul exclaimed, magically flying over a contract to you. You have no idea how he managed to write one so fast, because it seemingly materialized out of thin air.

The contract wasn't wordy and there were no terms and conditions. You suppose it makes sense given how simple the agreement is, but it still seemed quite hasty.

Regardless, after reading it over twice - it is Azul after all - you signed, and Azul magically lifted the contract and pen into his hands and swiftly slid them into some drawer.

While you were reading the contract, Jade quietly ducked out before returning with two magazines in hand. He hovered over your shoulder, before flipping one magazine open to reveal one of your swimsuit model pictures and setting it on the table for you to sign.

You signed, although it felt a little weird autographing something, but it was best 'business' proposal you could come up with.

Jade handed you the other magazine and Azul stood up. You still find the height difference between him and Tweels humorous, although Azul was still taller than you, so you didn't have much room to judge.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you, (Y/N), as always." Azul smiled, fumbling with something out of view in his desk drawer. "Have a good night."

"Want a drink Shrimpy?" Floyd inquired, placing an arm on your shoulder, turning you away from Azul.

"I would be more than happy to make something to your liking." Jade agreed, leading me out of the room. "On the house." He quickly added.

"As much as I'd love to, I have a tutoring session with Riddle. He saw my grade on last week's midterm and almost exploded on the spot."

"Aah, I haven't seen Goldfishy in a while." Floyd wondered aloud. "Hey, Shrimpy," He smiled, "Let me come with ya."

"Absolutely not," Jade remarked with a cold smile that did not reach his eyes, "You have a shift to work Floyd." You have always found the difference between their personalities amusing.

Remembering your appointment, you whipped out your phone to look at the time. Oh no. You had five minutes.

"Shit, I got to go, see you guys later!" You waved and ran off, terrified that you might actually witness Riddle explode this time.

"Goodbye, (Y/N)." "See ya, Shrimpy!"

Two sets of mismatched eyes intently followed you out the door.

------

"JADE." Azul practically screeched, slamming his hands on the table. "Do you know how BADLY that could have gone? Are you insane? You're lucky the prefect thought I was trying to resell them!"

"We're lucky." Jade corrected, carefully and meticulously removing pages from a Fleur magazine at a Mostro Lounge table. Azul threw his hands up in frustration.

"Hey, Azul, I never heard you objecting." Floyd rolled his eyes. "And why are you so embarrassed anyway; you're puffing up like a pufferfish."

"Well now, we have to sell the magazines." Azul huffed to himself and sat down besides Jade and the stack of magazines. "So, stop tearing the merchandise!"

"No." Jade snapped angrily. Realizing, Jade quickly collected himself and returned to his typical collected attitude, resuming his carefully removal of magazine pages, "There is a clear solution - we sell the magazines, just without certain pages featuring the prefect."

Azul stared, deadpan at Jade, clearly exasperated. "And just what are you going to do with half a hundred pictures of the prefect?"

"Remind me, who took one of the magazines after I bought them for 'personal use'?" Jade sneered, meeting Azul's stare, causing Azul to blush and begin stuttering excuses.

"I still don't get why we can't just tell Shrimpy." Floyd shrugged, leaning back in his chair, holding up one of the torn-out magazine pages of (Y/N) standing on a beach, hair blowing in the (fake) wind, dressed in a one-piece swimsuit, with a chic cover-up.

"Absolutely not!" Jade and Azul shouted in unison.

Thankfully, the Mostro Lounge was closed, and no one could hear the three mermen squabbling late into the night.

[magicalbats]

Soft Edges (Harumasa x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 3756

Warnings: afab!reader, chronic illness, piv, condoms, angst with porn

⭐

Spring rains bring summer flowers, and the clawing death rattle at the end of the world.

The moisture in the air bothers his lungs. 

You spend some time puttering around in his small kitchenette, preparing a herbal infused tea to help soothe the ache in his throat while he coughs and hacks incessantly in the other room. It makes the one bedroom apartment smell vaguely like an apothecary rather than a hospital bed. 

That seems to come as a relief almost as much as the warm drink does when he sips on it, humming a low sound of appreciation before thanking you for the thoughtful gesture. 

Sitting on the edge of the mattress with him, you study Harumasa for any signs of further deterioration in his condition. There were good days and there were bad days, and today was just unfortunate enough to be one of the latter. The hot tea and its medicinal properties seem to do him some good though. He doesn’t look like he’s in the process of actively dying on you, at least. 

Noticing your lingering stare on him, he lifts his attention to peer over at you. “What? Is there something on my face?” His voice is still a bit raspy. Weak. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Oh, come on. Tell me where it is so I can get it.” His unoccupied hand, the one not currently wrapped around the cup he’s got braced against his knee, comes up to swipe at the corner of his mouth, his cheek. But the knowing twinkle in his eye belies his sincerity and gives him away. 

Laughing despite your best attempt not to, you reach out to gently tug his arm back down. “Stop that. You know I’m just worried about you. It’s not nice to tease me.” 

“But I told you I’m fine, sweetheart. There’s nothing to worry about.” He assures you, his fingers snatching at yours before you can pull them out of his reach. 

Successfully snagging them, he makes quick work of sliding his palm over yours and fitting the digits together like they were a perfectly aligned puzzle snapping into place. 

And beyond the sterile sanctity of his apartment, the pelting rain buffets at the windows, an incessant staccato played to the tune of the howling wind.  

His skin feels clammy, you notice, and you wonder if you should go get the space heater out of the closet in the hallway. It was almost summer in New Eridu but the rain had brought with it an unseasonable chill that had even made you opt for a hoodie before venturing outside. He was probably feeling it worse than you were. 

“Haru - -“ 

“You don’t need to fret over me so much every time you come over,” He tells you gently, his thumb idly brushing over the back of your knuckles. “No matter how much you may want to be, you’re not actually a nurse you know. And for the better, really.” 

“Why is that?” You ask, earning yourself a softly husking laugh from him. 

“You’re way too cute, for starters. I’d never be able to control myself and I’d get into all sorts of trouble. Can you imagine your patient popping a hard on in the middle of you trying to help them get dressed? You’d hate it too, don’t lie.” 

Rolling your eyes at that, you start to pull away but he holds fast to your hand. The way he snickers, low and quiet, like his lungs couldn’t take anything more than that, almost pulls at your heartstrings enough to distract you from his real angle. But at the same time it’s also an intimately familiar sound that you don’t associate with his illness at all, in so much as you could separate one from the other. He often laughed like that when he was in the process of turning your own body utterly against you. 

Warming at the thought, you shoot him a halfhearted look of warning. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re not incapable of dressing yourself then.”

“Mm, perhaps. But I’m afraid that’s not gonna’ stop me from getting a hard on though.”

He throws you a playful wink to go with it and you draw a quick breath to chide him for not taking his health more seriously, for always downplaying his own mysterious maladies. But the words catch in your throat when he suddenly tugs your captured hand across his lap. 

Right into the center is where he presses it, making sure you feel the stirring outline of him through his cozy pajama bottoms. That he’d managed to change into them at all before knocking out under the medicated lull of myriad sleep aids and nervous system suppressing narcotics the night before was likely a small miracle. Sometimes the looming possibility of Harumasa needing help with basic everyday functions like dressing himself did not seem like such a far off what-if.  

It was not yet that day though and he was still in control of his body, at least for the time being. 

Lifting your gaze, you find his eyes underneath the attractively tousled fringe of his bangs where it was slipping forward without the usual headband in place to keep his hair back. He’s smiling at you, a barely there upward curl of his mouth that almost reads of fatigue rather than sly intent. The ghostly suggestion of tension lines on his otherwise blemish free face further solidifies that impression. 

But the way he looks at you speaks volumes, loudly conveying the message of the young man he might have been if he were not so plagued by ill health. He was sickly, yes. There was no getting around that uncomfortable truth no matter how much he tried to write off the severity of it. 

Yet he was by all accounts in the prime of his life, or he should have been anyway. Just a headstrong twenty something with the libido to match. He wanted to live, to experience. You could certainly give him that. 

“Are you sure?” At his nod, you carefully adjust your hand to close your fingers around the slowly stiffening length of him. He breathes a quiet sigh when you squeeze it through the thin layer of his bottoms. Keen and perfectly eager, but as always you were wary about going into it too hard and too fast. Especially after that coughing fit he had earlier … 

“Don’t make that face,” He murmurs. Stretching his arm out to the side, he sets the nearly empty cup on the bedside table right next to the menagerie of prescription pill bottles left out in disarray. “You’re not going to break me or kill me. Promise. I said I’m fine, didn’t I?” 

You think the two of you must have drastically different ideas of what it means to be fine but you don’t say that to him or push the topic any further than that. For his sake as much as for your own. 

And when Harumasa reaches for you, pulling you in against him, you willingly relent and sink happily into the familiar warmth of his lean, athletic frame. He feels sturdy enough that you don’t let your mind linger on it any longer than necessary and instead give yourself over to the searing kiss he presses into your mouth. You trust him to know his own limits, to recognize when something was actually wrong versus when he was just going through a bad flare up or having a shitty day. If he was feeling well enough to initiate this then you were happy to oblige. 

Which was the real crux of it, wasn’t it? The problem with a casual hookup turned long term relationship through some inexplicable means that you still weren’t entirely clear on even to this very day. What should have been a one time exchange somehow became months spent together, and now these sorts of physical exchanges were one of the rare comforts you still had that everything was going to be okay. Somehow, someway, it would all work out in the end. 

Because he certainly doesn’t seem frail and prone to illness when he bodily hauls you up further onto the bed so he can toss you down next to him with an expert flip. Your weight bounces against the mattress once from the momentum and then he’s on top of you, pinning you in place underneath him. The Harumasa you’d met that very first night and the one you make herbal tea for to soothe his throat were sometimes difficult to reconcile in your mind. But there was no mistaking that they were indeed one and the same in moments like this. 

Leaning over you, his mouth meets yours in a slow motion crash, hungry and eager to taste, eliciting a low moan of wanting from you. Kissing him back, you lift your arms to twine them around his neck while his hands slip under your hoodie to feel along your front. The shirt underneath is quickly rucked up to give him access to your chest where he hooks his fingers into the band of your bra, inching it down while his tongue tangles with yours.  

You gladly arch into his touch and your tits slip free to brush against the interior of your sweatshirt unimpeded. The sensation makes you full on shudder. Tearing your mouth away from his, you loose a quaking exhale into the still apartment which he responds to with a soft groan. The sound makes your socked toes curl as he shoves a hard kiss into the soft swell of your cheek, your jaw, then your neck. 

Unable to go any further past the bulk of the hood gathered around your throat, Harumasa pushes back just enough to give himself room to work. Grabbing the hem and shoving it up to bunch under your chin, he quickly brings his hands back down to slip them into your stretchy leggings next. Your achingly stiff nipples strain in the open air now, making the growing knot in your lower stomach tighten even more. 

A new buzzing thrum of anticipation runs through you as you lift your hips up off the bed, allowing him the space needed to yank them down your legs. They’re immediately discarded as soon as he’s got them off, carelessly tossed to the floor before he crawls back up to cover your body with his again. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmurs, lowering himself to his elbows so he can fully cage you in. His mouth finds its way to yours as if pulled by some invisible string and you drag your hands down his lithe frame while you exchange another heated kiss. 

Sliding underneath the rumpled back of his long sleeved shirt, your fingers quickly locate the top band of his pants and tug. The two of you are pressed too tight together in a tangle of limbs, slowly grinding against one another, for you to pull them more than half of the way down. That’s decidedly fine though, and you take to gently kneading over the exposed strip of his ass with encouraging squeezes that just make him press into you even harder. 

The outline of his cock is rigid and unrelenting where it digs against you, moulding your panties to the shape of your labia. You’re eager for the friction of his cock moving inside you, flesh sliding against warm, sticky flesh, and you can tell he is too. Yet he doesn’t rush it and instead takes his time savoringly rolling his hips as if to drag it out and make it last just that little bit longer. 

Or, an unhelpful voice in the back of your mind suggests, maybe this slow tempoed pace is all he can handle right now. 

That chilling thought curbs any impulse you might have to speed things up and take your pleasure from him, allowing Harumasa to set the pace while you simply follow his lead. The first night you’d met after a brief exchange of text messages you’d wrestled with him for dominance in this very bed to see who would come out on top. Now, however, you’re pliant and perfectly in tune with the signals of his body, lessening the demanding pressure of your hands when his breath starts to become a bit too labored. 

Groaning a shuddering noise of appreciation, he nudges himself down to your chest where he covers one pert nipple with his mouth. A roughly calloused palm comes up to grab and pinch at the other while he suckles your teat to aching attention, using his lips and his tongue to lave at the bud. His pulse soon seems to even out again and the shallow contractions of his chest become not quite so dramatic. Still, you worry about him. 

“You should switch me spots, Haru.” You tell him gently as you thread your fingers through his soft, silken hair, cradling him to your breast. “Let me be on top this time.” 

Harumasa comes up off your tit to shoot you an overly confident smirk, one you’re not quite sure he can back up right now. But you don’t protest or tell him to stop when he reaches between you to fist at his pants, shoving them down in the front to let his cock spring loose. “That won’t be necessary. Really, I had no idea I was dating such a mother hen. I’m not made of glass, babe.” 

A mournful chord curls through you, dousing the knotted heat in your stomach by some small margin. 

At the same time the rain picks up outside as if mirroring the tumultuous rising current of emotion in your chest. It smacks at the windows so hard they begin to rattle in their frames, thunder booming loudly somewhere in the not far off distance. The storm was getting worse. You hope the electricity doesn’t go out. 

“I know you’re not.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Keeping his tone light and playful, Harumasa stretches over you to pull open the bedside table drawer. A condom is quickly located and pulled out, the foil wrapper crinkling lightly when he starts to rip it open. “Even if I was on my deathbed I think I could still make you scream. I wouldn’t underestimate me if I were you.” 

“Please don’t joke like that.” You snip back at him, not finding it even remotely funny. But he just laughs another low snickering sound as rolls the flesh colored rubber over his stiff cock almost down to the base. Feeling a mild pang of remorse, you draw a careful breath and say much more gently, “You don’t have to wear those if you don’t want to, Haru. I told you I’m taking birth control.” 

Humming a quiet sound, he gives himself a brief pump of his hand over the latex before settling between your legs once again, his hips nudging close to line up with yours. “Don’t worry about it. This is just fine.” 

You’re not so sure you believe that. But for as long as you've known him he’s always been adamant about using protection and you don’t understand his reasons enough to really argue against it. He’d said once he just didn’t want to take any risks or run the chance of leaving you worse off than when you’d met him. You hadn’t been sure what to make of that then and you still don’t know what to make of it now.

There were a great many things about Harumasa that remained a mystery to you though, like what exactly was wrong with him, what his diagnosis was. No matter how you posed the question he was never outright or forthcoming about that either. And while it bothered you sometimes, undeniably so, you’d found that your feelings for him were much too tender for you to push him on such topics. He’d tell you when and if he was ever ready. 

So you reach up and take him into your arms, pulling him against your chest while he tugs your panties to the side with his thumb. His mouth angles towards yours on a steady, unfaltering trajectory and he kisses you deeply, sinking into you with a stilted sigh of relief. 

The weight of his body coming to rest on top of you prods the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing in on clinging, sticky viscous arousal. You’re keenly aware of the heat of him even through the barrier of the condom and you issue a faint moan against his lips as your legs come up to lock around his waist. The careful squeeze you give him has Harumasa sinking inside you, slowly stretching your inner sleeve to the now familiar shape and size of him. 

Another teeth rattling peel of thunder sounds right overhead, as if the very center of the storm was hovering directly above the building. Perhaps it was watching the scene play out, its destructive energy growing and cresting in time with your pleasure while the two of you move in tandem with each other. Or maybe it had taken offense to the measly little ants getting it on first thing in the morning instead of bowing down and cowering in the face of its mighty wrath. 

Or maybe — just maybe, it was trying to warn you. One of you, both of you. You or him. It was impossible to say when the notion itself was so ludicrous but you can’t quite shake the feeling of existential uncertainty that sits like a lead weight in your gut now. 

It feels good having him thrust inside of you, just like you’d known it would. If you were only a bit more naive, in fact, you might have almost thought Harumasa had been made for you, and you him, given the way he seems to rub against every single pleasure inducing nerve ending along the way. You can’t help but grow wetter for him, tightening for him when your muscles eagerly clench down on the steel of his galvanized length. And you freely moan into his mouth where he’s still kissing you between soft rattling groans but … 

Why was he so dead set on using condoms even at this casually crucial junction of the relationship, after all these months spent together in sickness and in health? Did he not trust you? Did he think you were lying about the birth control and he simply wanted to avoid being stuck with you indefinitely? 

Or — could it actually be that the problem lies with him, resting squarely on his shoulders rather than yours? Did he fear what taking that final step would mean, what the end result of it might manifest when he was always prone to bad bouts of illness? 

Was the looming possibility of the existential end really so close that he needed to worry about such things? 

This was no way for a twenty something to live, and you cling to him all the more fervently for it, desperately clutching him to you like a lifeline. You wanted to save him but you don’t know how, so you open your body to him instead. Shelter, comfort and peace; the safe haven of flesh and blood, and heated breaths swapped back and forth between two locked mouths. 

And Harumasa gladly loses himself in you as if in chasing his release he could also escape the cold, bony fingers that hover just out of reach behind him. His flexing hips quicken, smacking into you with abandon now, and he sobs a frantic moan that you greedily swallow, taking it into yourself before feeding it back to him. 

His skin is so clammy under your hands. Like even the flush of arousal couldn’t completely disperse the chill that’s taken up root in him, and your heart skips a harrowing beat when his labored breaths suddenly turn thick with choking little gasps. His chest positively heaves against yours as your hands fly up to take his cheeks between your palms, carefully pushing him back just enough to look into his face. 

Expression wretched, Harumasa whimpers a low sound as if in apology while his pace slows to a weak crawl, almost a total standstill. He doesn’t completely stop fucking into you though, his cock stiffly nudging through your slick inner sleeve at such a stilted, uneven rhythm you know finishing like this will be impossible for you. But that doesn’t really matter now. It’s the very least of your concerns as you softly shush him, cooing gentle reassurances that make him screw his eyes shut as if he were in pain. 

He barely manages to reach his peak before the coughing takes hold of him again. It doubles him over and makes him collapse on top of you where he proceeds to shove his face into the pillow next to your head. You’re only distantly aware of his cock flexing within you and filling the tip of the condom with impotent seed, the vast majority of your attention fixed on the way he hacks and wheezes through the fit that assails him. It bows his spine into a dramatic, worrying hunch which you gently try to smooth out with your hand. It’s no use though. He can’t seem to get it under control. 

“Harumasa, let me help you.” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He croaks, very clearly not fine. 

Sucking in a sharp, clawing breath that seems to rip his throat on the way down, he slowly manages to rouse himself enough to pull out and roll off of you. You’re quick to follow him though, pushing up to your elbow so you can look down at him while your hand continues to ineffectively rub over his shuddering back. He sounds like he’s going to cough out a lung. The thought of calling for an ambulance momentarily crosses your mind but you know how he feels about the hospital. Only if it’s an actual emergency, he’d once told you. 

But how the hell were you supposed to know when that line had been crossed? 

Unsure what else to do, you lean further over him so you can reach down and carefully help him take the used condom off. It’s a difficult task in this position, when he’s half curled over on his side like this, still struggling to get his breathing under control, but you manage, somehow. Just like with everything else, you try to make it work. 

And outside the unsympathetic storm rages on. 

⭐

Crossposted: here

[lychgate]

i haven't posted a really poorly drawn thought piece adventure in years so here's a brief update!

hope i hit the read more thing right oh well anyway:

"Spent a lot of time applying for a home loan. I had to pay -fucked up- to have a convincing income for a decent loan. It was very confusing but cody helped me a lot."

"Cody proposed to me It felt wonderful that someone wanted to share their time and love with me. Cody proposed Anthrohio weekend, it's the con we really met at."

"We saw the listing that sunday morning before we had to go to our table to vend."

"It was a perfect house. We were the first people to view it and we immediately put in a bid. And we got the house. Many papers to sign."

"Moving was not easy. It took 2 whole months. Cody was out of town helping their grandma recover from a big surgery and we had to sell their old house/move that as well as move from my apartment. ALSO THE PETS: My cat dick wolf + Cody's 3 birds. Until we could get some doors installed and separate the house, I had to live between two places every day to feed and care for them."

"Still, life was good. I bought my first house! It has a swing in the backyard. I've never had my own backyard. I've never even lived somewhere that had trees (in said yard) It felt nice. Living together with the love of my life and 4 pets."

"Through all this i never closed my shop. How could I? It was my income, and I just bought a house. It needed to stay open. Moving that much inventory, setting up a new office, the house is a nice size but it's not huge, so, very careful organizing had to be executed if I wanted my apparel laid out right. (Which I totally managed to do)"

"but i Did get really good at baking pies. the two are connected."

"sacred_crow on instagram!"

"there's like 25 of u bastards i would absolutely die for, and about 75 more that i would go nearly dead over."

"We have an extra bedroom so I got to turn it into a toy room. There's games, crafts, stuffed animals, movies, a sick loft I painted the shit out of. It rules. It brings me a lot of Joy."

"Under the loft we have a dug out where we can watch VHS tapes. I love to sit with Cody and watch movies and play Donkey Kong."

"I am not good at Banjo Kazooie, but Cody is. Cody is so talented. I love watching them play games. (Depicted is not banjo kazooie but donkey kong country 2 as we are currently playing that. I'm good at DKC but I will still swear and make sounds like im about to throw up)"

"Half the basement is finished, so we turned it into a dual office space. It rules. Cody has a whole side for fursuit crafting, and my side is mostly my gigantic gamer computer area/shipping area. I took a whole wall to put all my non apparel merch like pins charms and notebooks also. for hte love of god someone buy the notebooks they take up more space then i wanted"

"I love to look over from my computer and see cody working. They always look so focused, yet peaceful."

"It's winter but it rains. I miss the snow. I lived by the lakes growing up. I miss piles of snow. It's just wet and cold here. Yes i'm quite aware of global warming"

"I got kicked off both my health and car insurance. I fixed the car one but health insurance still no. All my meds have gone away. The past few months have been hard. I think way too much lately. I can't get myself to do anything. -this is a whole page of downer bullshit and i cropped it!-"

"We had a leaky ceiling that took a month to fix. Cody did all the work because they are smart and kind."

"Oh yeah I had my uterus removed earlier this year. They let me keep it. It's in a jar in my living room."

"We threw a very nice halloween party. I was the green m&m. Cody was the monarch."

"We adopted 8 beautiful kiwis from a crane machine at the mall. we spent over 100 monies to get them but it was worth it."

"

It was a rough year. My health is in decline. Our country may try to end my life for being trans soon (lol?) I am in hte middle of a colossal mental breakdown of my core fundamental behavior (depression advanced) BUT ALSO: I am engaged to my favorite person. We bought a house together. I'm beginning a new chapter of my life. I have a swing in my backyard. The negatives suck but there are also many positives. The cycle of emotions is immense, but there is beauty in it. There is beauty in life, and isn't that wonderful?"