#like there would be complete silence and then

[malesuite]

I awoke from a nap while I waited for lunch to be over. I was just in time to watch the hot man-on-man action of some great looking guys waiting like I was, parked next to each other. They were hot on it in a flash. I saw the driver reach over and then the explosion of the other man over taking him. Stripping the driver of his shirt. Then every single piece of clothing was off or down , thrown without a thought. They couldn't get the trousers off completely before the bare assed passenger was on the drivers cock. He bobbed on him with such fury that the driver was blind with the intensity of it, gasping and grappling at the other to go all the way down.

I backed in the shadow of my cab as I watched what I could see of the action of the passenger.

His face was at the window drooling while I heard him plead for the other to fuck him now he had slicked his cock with his mouth. The driver loomed over the passengers back forcing him down having a brief fight to drive his cock home. I heard the bumping and thrashing until all at once there was a reflexive moan and groan as the cab shook and rocked with the drivers rhythm. It became evident that their heat would make the scene obscured. I enjoyed the sounds knowing with each mans voice confirmed that they were near to climaxing. It came with a burst, the cab shook and then a brief silence.

Than a clatter of changing positions. I saw the fleshy colors in the fog. Measured gasps went with the motion until one last shutter.

I was hard and hurting. I forced my cock upward for relief but I knew I must ejaculate as well so I unbuttoned and unzipped. In my haste to extricate my hard cock I scrapped the zipper but I was determined to get off as well. I stoked with my spit slathered hand faster and tighter and a bit of blood tinted my hand. I could taste blood as I recoated. All at once, with a heavy gasp I let it all go. Jizz flew onto the stirring wheel and fully over my hand it streamed.

I heard a tap on my window then. The passenger had climbed down from the truck. I heard the door click shut again and all I saw was the back of the fully dressed man. He caught me too. I hope it was a good sight to behold for him as their fucking had encouraged me.

Jason Lewis and Josh Kelly Midnight, Texas 2.06 "No More Mr. Nice Kai"

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Keep Your Eyes on Me - pt.ii

tara carpenter x female reader

part i | part ii

summary: Tara begins to question her own emotions, especially when the thought of losing Y/n's attention unexpectedly stirs something deeper.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: slight violence

————

"Is Y/n dying?" Mindy asks with genuine curiosity looking back at you and Tara. "What the fuck is wrong with her face?"

The five of you had just gotten off the subway and exited the station, but your mind was still stuck a few moments behind. Tara had wrapped her arm around yours and spoken the five words that made your heart skip a beat: Keep your eyes on me.

Since then, you hadn’t been able to function. Stiff as a board, your brain was in a daze, replaying those words over and over. Now, you were walking aimlessly, arm-in-arm with Tara, trailing behind Mindy, Chad, and Sam, who were a good distance ahead.

"I think it might have something to do with Tara," Chad chimes in, glancing back at you both.

That comment got Sam's attention and she finally turned to see what was happening. "Yikes she does look—hold on why would Tara be responsible for whatever is going on with Y/n's face?" She asks with a raised brow, looking at the twins genuinely confused.

"Look at her arm," Chad says, pointing at Tara. "It’s wrapped around Y/n’s."

"She's looking up at her like Y/n put the stars in the sky," Mindy laughs.

Sam squints her eyes still confused. "So? Tara's finally warming up to Y/n. I spoke to her a few weeks ago about how Y/n is good for her."

"Her arm is around Y/n's," Chad states again with more emphasis.

"I hold my friends by their arm all the time," Sam shrugs like it's no big deal.

"Oh honey... did you say friends?" Mindy says gently wrapping her arm around Sam's shoulders like she was trying to soften the blow. "You know Y/n has the hots for your sister right?"

Sam wasn't stupid. There was instances in the last six months where the thought had crossed her mind. The way you always glanced at Tara after one of Mindy’s outrageous jokes, just to see her reaction. The way you went silent every time Tara got too close. The way your cheeks flushed crimson whenever Tara did something particularly sweet or kind.

Sam sighs. Deep down, she knew. The way you were attentive to Tara wasn’t just friendly—it was something more.

When she’d encouraged Tara to give you a chance, it wasn’t about dating—it was about letting someone in, letting someone care for her. But now, watching you and Tara in this new light, the possibility of her little sister entering her first relationship suddenly felt real.

That’s what unnerved her. Not you, specifically. She liked you. And if anyone was going to date Tara, she was glad it would be you.

"Don’t worry, Sam," Chad says, trying to reassure her. "Y/n’s a total dork. She can’t even admit to herself that she likes Tara. She just genuinely cares about her, even if she only gets to do that as a friend."

"Dude," Mindy cuts in, laughing so hard she’s clutching her stomach, "you literally helped Y/n get into your sister’s pants!"

“You gave Y/n first class tickets to take your sister to Pound town!” she adds in between laughs.

Chad groans, dragging a hand down his face. "Why are you like this?"

Sam felt her blood run cold. She changed her mind—maybe she did have a problem with you.

————

Meanwhile, about twenty steps behind the group, the younger Carpenter sister was freaking out for a completely different reason.

Sure, she hadn’t expected to enjoy the feeling of her hand resting on your bicep this much. That was its own problem. But what was really throwing her off was the deafening silence. Why weren’t you saying anything?

She’d called your name a few times now, but you hadn’t so much as blinked in response. She considered taking her arm away. Maybe she’d overstepped. It had been a bold move—not just saying what she did but closing the space between you two like this.

It was a stark contrast from what's the usual between you two—her throwing violent insults your way, half the time just to see how you’d react.

Okay maybe it makes sense why you weren't responding. Still, was it too much to ask for a little reaction?

Fearing she’d made you uncomfortable, Tara began to pull her arm away.

"No! Wait—" you blurt out, snapping out of your daze at the loss of contact. The words hang in the air, and the realization of what you just said slaps you in the face. Your face flushes red. "I mean—wait, not no! You can keep your hands to yourself if you want!" you stammer, awkwardly backpedaling as you take a step closer to the road to create a distance between you two.

She just told you that you can keep your eyes on her and you told her she can keep her hands to herself.

In that moment, you’d honestly prefer to be hit by a car than embarrass yourself any further in front of Tara.

You brace yourself, expecting her to roll her eyes, to call you an imbecile, to tell you to get over yourself. Maybe she’d point out that she doesn’t need you to give her permission to keep her hands to herself—that she has full autonomy. Or worse, she’d say something cutting, like how she’d never touch you in a million years, even though she was the one who had grabbed your arm in the first place.

But instead, she laughs.

And it’s not a mean laugh. It’s soft, warm, and unexpectedly genuine, catching you completely off guard.

Not that you were complaining, but

What the fuck is she doing?

————

"What the fuck am I doing?" Tara mumbles to herself.

“That’s what I want to know,” Mindy fires back with a teasing smirk, leaning closer to Tara who was seated across her on the table.

Fortunately for you, soon after you heard the melodic sound of Tara’s laugh that made your brain short-circuit, the bar you were all heading to came into view giving you the perfect excuse not to dwell on it—or, more accurately, to avoid melting into a puddle of feelings. For the first time ever, Tara had laughed because of something you did, and the thought alone made your heart do a happy little somersault.

Upon entering the dive bar, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom while the rest of the group found a table to be seated at. Thankfully, the bathroom was empty, so you were able to think out loud.

“What even is my life right now?” you muttered to yourself as you leaned over the sink with a goofy smile. Catching your reflection in the mirror, your face was beet fucking red. Oh no. Did Tara notice how red you were? You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

How did things change so fast? How had it gone from her hating your guts, calling you Ghostface at every opportunity, and throwing insults your way—barely even sparing you a glance—to this?

Mindy had told you to stop chasing Tara, to ignore her, to let her come to you. You’d managed to stick to that advice for maybe an hour, and somehow, this was where it got you.

Not that you were complaining—oh, you definitely weren’t—but wow, this was a lot to handle. Your heart felt like it might burst from how warm and fluttery it was. Tara was kind of adorable… and terrifying. Mostly adorable. Okay, maybe all adorable.

"Fuck, this girl is going to be the death of me."

————

Outside, Mindy, Chad, and Tara stayed at the table while Sam headed to the bar to scope out the scene.

"Sooo… did I just see you holding Y/n’s arm?" Mindy asked, probing Tara for more answers.

Tara groaned dramatically before dropping her head onto the table with a quiet thud. "Yes," she mumbled, her voice muffled against the surface.

"What the hell happened in the two weeks we didn't hang?" Chad questions. "You couldn't stand her last time we hung out. And you're pulling the Carpenter rizz?"

"I don’t know!" Tara whined, her words still muffled by the table." Sam talked to me okay? And I guess I was being harsh to Y/n."

"Uh-huh, sure," Mindy replied, her grin widening. "But that still doesn’t explain why you were holding her arm. That’s a huge leap from ‘I hate Y/n, she’s totally Ghostface,’ to... this." Mindy explained, clearly enjoying the situation.

"Unless," Chad cut in, his grin matching Mindy’s as he wiggled his eyebrows, "there was always some hidden feelings under your 'supposed' hatred for her..."

Tara’s face shot up from the table, bright red as she glared at them. "There are no hidden feelings!"

Mindy gasped, clutching her chest like she’d uncovered a scandal. "Oh my God, there totally is! Admit it, Tara—you’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time!"

"Absolutely not!" Tara protested, her voice climbing an octave.

"You have," Chad teased, leaning closer with a conspiratorial whisper. "And you loved it."

Tara groaned again, hiding her face in her hands, as Mindy and Chad erupted into laughter.

"Shut up!" Tara muttered, but the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips betrayed her completely. She sighed, trying to compose herself. "I don't like her like that, okay? She was just ignoring me today, and... I guess it sucked not having her care about me like she usually does," she mumbled, hoping the explanation would get the twins off her back.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Mindy replied casually to Tara’s surprise. Well, that was easy.

But then Mindy smirked, leaning back in her chair. "So, it shouldn’t bother you that Y/n’s getting hit on at the bar right now, huh?"

Tara froze. "What?" she snapped, whipping her head around so fast it was a miracle she didn’t pull something. Her eyes darted frantically toward the bar. "Where is she?"

The brunette turned back around so Mindy could answer her, and that’s when she realized—she’d walked right into her trap.

Mindy burst into laughter, slapping the table. "Oh my God, you’re so obvious!"

Tara frowned and crossed her arms as Chad joined in on the laughter, both of them clearly enjoying how flustered she’d become.

————

You finally leave the bathroom once you feel like you can function like a normal human being again. It doesn’t take long to spot your friends at their table—sometimes, you swear you have a built-in Tara radar, always able to sense exactly where she is.

As you make your way over, your eyes are drawn to her, bathed in the soft red glow of the bar lights. She looks stunning, her features highlighted by the warm hue. She’s speaking animatedly to the twins, her hands flying up to cover her face in between bursts of conversation, a mix of shyness and excitement that makes her even more captivating.

Sometimes you wish you weren't the awkward human you were, and met Tara in better circumstances. A world where Ghostface didn't exist as well. Maybe then—maybe then you two could be something?

Your heart leapt at the thought. And you felt almost guilty for thinking the way you do. You never wanted it to seem like you only treated Tara with kindness because you had some sort of ulterior motive. It made you feel guilty. But it was getting difficult denying it any further. Maybe it was seeing her in this setting, so relaxed, so beautiful—maybe it was her touch and words earlier that sealed your fate.

But all you wanted right now was to slide into that booth beside her, feel her hand on your arm again, and be the person she could lean on.

You really liked Tara.

And you also really needed a drink.

————

"Okay, hold on—help me out here," Mindy says, holding her hands up. "If you do have some kind of interest in her, then why, and I say this with love, were you such a massive dick to her?"

Tara groans, letting her head drop back dramatically against the booth. "I wasn’t trying to be! It just... happened," she mumbles, rubbing her hands over her face, as if she could wipe away the embarrassment. "I don’t know, okay? She just gets under my skin. She’s so infuriatingly... nice. And smug. And—"

"Hot?" Chad offers with a teasing grin, earning a glare from Tara.

"I wasn’t going to say that!" Tara snaps defensively, though the red creeping up her neck betrays her.

Mindy snorts. "Oh, sure. That’s why you grabbed her arm like she was the last person on Earth. Real subtle Carpenter."

Tara exhales hard, crossing her arms and slouching down in her seat. "I didn’t plan that, okay? She was ignoring me. I didn’t like it. And I panicked."

Chad raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with that smug big-brother energy. "Sooo, you panicked and held her arm? You panic-flirted?"

"I did not panic-flirt!" Tara protests, sitting up straighter, her voice pitching higher with frustration.

"You so panic-flirted," Mindy grins, leaning closer. "Face it, T. You’ve got it bad. I mean, you did just admit you didn’t like her ignoring you. That’s classic 'please-pay-attention-to-me' behavior."

Tara opens her mouth to argue, but freezes. She can’t deny that part—because it’s true. Too true. She didn’t like the way you’d suddenly stopped caring, stopped looking her way like you always did. It left her feeling... off-balance.

"Fine," she mutters, looking away as her fingers trace patterns on the table. "Maybe I didn’t hate it when she cared."

Chad and Mindy exchange a glance before turning back to her with matching smirks.

"Uh-huh," Mindy drawls. "And maybe you didn’t hate holding her arm."

Tara groans again, sinking lower into the booth like she could disappear into the cushions. "I really need you both to shut up right now."

"Why am I getting interrogated? And more importantly, where are the drinks? Sam? Y/n?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

————

You weave your way through the crowd, finally making it to the bar, where you flag down the bartender and order a drink—something strong to calm the storm brewing inside of you. Taking a seat, you take a deep breath, letting the hum of the bar settle around you.

"Another round," a familiar voice says beside you, and you turn your head to find Sam, casually gesturing for the bartender to line up several drinks. You blink, surprised.

"Sam?" you ask, brow furrowing. "What are you doing?"

Sam doesn’t look at you as she responds, eyes focused ahead, her tone completely serious. “Mourning.”

You stare at her, processing. “Mourning?” you repeat, confused. “Who… who died?”

Sam finally turns to you, expression deadpan. “My baby sister.”

You freeze, mouth opening slightly as your brain short-circuits. “Tara? Tara died?” you ask, voice rising in disbelief as you whip your head toward the booth where Tara is very clearly alive and animated, still talking to the twins.

Sam sighs dramatically, shaking her head. “Not literally. Spiritually. She’s about to get into her first relationship.”

Your face contorts into the human equivalent of the surprised Pikachu meme. “Her what now?”

Sam gives you a look, like you should already know. “Oh, don’t play dumb. You’re the relationship.”

You nearly choke on your drink, sputtering. “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” Sam replies matter-of-factly, grabbing one of the drinks the bartender sets down but not leaving just yet. She leans against the bar, eyeing you like she’s assessing your soul. “And don’t make that face. You’re the one she’s been all smiley and weird about lately.”

You blink at her, utterly lost. “Smile-y? Weird? What—Tara doesn’t even like me like that.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” you insist, though your voice wavers slightly.

Sam just smirks, sipping one of the drinks slowly. “You’re even worse at lying than you are at hiding how red your face is right now.”

Your hand flies to your cheek like you can stop the blush burning there. “It’s the bar lights!” you blurt defensively. “They’re red. They make everything red.”

"But I'm not lying I swear! She hates me remember? I'm supposedly Ghostface?" You ramble, trying to jog Sam's memory, because what in the world is she talking about. Tara likes you?

Sam chuckles under her breath, shaking her head. “You’re a mess.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, sinking further into yourself before glancing up at her. “But seriously… what do you mean me? I thought you were mourning because of some jerk she’s into—”

“Oh, I still think you’re a jerk,” Sam interrupts, though there’s a teasing glint in her eye now. “But you’re a tolerable one.”

You blink again, confused. “I’m… tolerable?”

“For now,” Sam confirms, narrowing her eyes at you in a way that makes you feel like you’re back in high school, being questioned by a teacher. “But listen to me, Y/n—I don’t care how flustered you get or how much you like her, I’m watching you. If you so much as make her frown, I’ll know. You’ll regret it.”

The seriousness of her tone makes you sit up a little straighter, but there’s still something soft in the way she says it—like, beneath the overprotective big-sister act, Sam really does care.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you say quietly, surprising even yourself with how genuine you sound. “I’d never hurt her. Ever.”

Sam studies you for a long moment, like she’s trying to read the truth straight from your eyes. Finally, she gives a small nod, satisfied. “Good. Because she deserves someone who looks at her like she’s the best thing to ever happen to them.”

Your heart stutters at her words, and you look down at your drink, trying not to smile too obviously. “I already do,” you admit softly, almost to yourself.

Sam pauses, her expression softening ever so slightly. “Yeah. That’s what worries me,” she mutters, more to herself than to you, but before you can ask what she means, she straightens up. “Now come on. I’m not carrying all these drinks by myself.”

You blink up at her, still a little dazed by the conversation, but you quickly grab a couple of glasses and stand up to follow Sam back toward the table.

But as you rose, the sudden sound of shattering glass and the murmur of rising voices pull your attention toward the commotion. A crowd begins to form in the center of the bar, the tension thickening with every heated word exchanged. It’s only when the circle shifts slightly that you spot her—Tara, her small frame squared off against a guy who looks a little too angry for the situation, and a girl glaring daggers at her.

You and Sam exchange a glance before rushing over, the protective instinct in both of you kicking in instantly.

“Look, I said I’d buy you another drink,” Tara says, her tone calm but laced with frustration.

“Yeah, well, maybe watch where you’re going next time dumbass,” the guy snaps, his voice dripping with condescension.

“Okay then maybe don’t stand in the middle of the fucking bar like a human traffic cone,” Tara bites back, her words sharper than you’ve ever heard from her.

The guy’s girlfriend steps in, practically seething. “Who do you think you are? Bumping into him like a slut and then acting like it’s his fault? God, you’re so full of yourself!”

Tara rolls her eyes. “Trust me, I do not want your man. This isn’t that deep.”

The guy snickers, leaning closer to Tara. “Yeah, right. With that attitude? You’d be lucky if anyone wanted you.”

You feel your chest tighten with anger, but you force yourself to take a deep breath. You step forward, hands up in a gesture of peace, trying your best not to escalate things.

“Hey, let’s all just calm down,” you say, your voice cracking slightly under the pressure. “I’ll get you a drink, okay? On me. No big deal.”

The guy turns to you, sizing you up before sneering. “Who the hell are you? Her little lapdog?”

That stings more than you’d care to admit, but before you can respond, he takes a step closer to Tara, clearly trying to intimidate her. Tara doesn’t back down, her glare unwavering, but his shoulder roughly “brushes” against hers in what’s definitely not an accident.

The nudge sends Tara stumbling backward, but thankfully, she lands against Sam, who steadies her instantly.

And that’s when all hell breaks loose.

Something snaps inside you, and before you can think it through, your fist is already flying. It connects with the guy’s jaw, sending him reeling back a step. The bar erupts in gasps and shouts as the guy recovers, glaring at you with fire in his eyes.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he growls, lunging at you.

Chaos ensues. Tables scrape against the floor as people back away, forming a wide circle. You’re barely aware of Sam pulling Tara further back, her voice sharp as she tells her to stay put.

The guy swings at you, but you dodge, adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I was trying to be nice!” you shout, your voice somehow still awkward despite the situation. “But nooo, you had to go and—”

His next punch grazes your shoulder, and you retaliate, landing another hit square in his side.

“Y/n!” Tara’s voice cuts through the noise, and for a split second, you falter, glancing in her direction.

That’s all the guy needs to get a cheap shot in, his fist connecting with your stomach. You stumble back, the wind knocked out of you, but you manage to stay on your feet steadying yourself by having your palm planted on a nearby table.

Unfortunately luck wasn't on your side, and the table had a broken bottle on it, the jagged glass slices into your palm. You wince, but thankfully, the chaos around you masks the pain, and no one notices it.

Suddenly, Chad steps in between you and the guy, his broad frame blocking any further blows. “Alright, enough,” he says, his voice firm, but not without a hint of warning. “You don’t want to take this any further bro. Trust me.”

Before the guy can respond, Sam steps in too, her hand flashing a taser from her waistband, her expression icy cold. “I suggest you walk away,” she says, her voice steady and threatening. “Unless you want to leave here with more than just a bruised ego.”

The guy hesitates, clearly debating whether to push his luck. But the bartender steps in then, a burly man who looks like he’s seen his fair share of bar fights. “Alright, that’s enough!” he barks. “You—out. Now.”

The guy glares at you one last time before grabbing his girlfriend’s arm and storming out, muttering curses under his breath.

As the crowd disperses and the bar settles back into its usual hum of activity, you turn to Tara, who’s staring at you with wide eyes.

“You okay?” you ask, your voice hoarse.

She nods, her gaze softening as she takes a step closer to you. “Are you?”

You wince, clutching your stomach. “I’ll live. But, uh, maybe next time, don’t antagonize the guy holding the drink?”

Tara scoffs but smiles faintly. “Maybe next time, don’t throw punches for me.”

Sam snorts, crossing her arms. “No, by all means, keep throwing punches. Just learn to dodge better.”

You laugh weakly, glancing between the two Carpenter sisters. “Noted. So… anyone else need a drink, or is it just me?”

Tara shakes her head, her smile growing, her face red. “It’s just you. But… thanks. For standing up for me.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, and despite the ache in your hand, you can’t help but smile back. “Anytime.”

You catch Tara glancing at you, her expression softer then ever, and for a moment, she seems to be looking at you like she’s seeing something more than the awkward dork you think you are.

And in that instant, she can’t help but think you're even more amazing than she already knew. But before she can fully process it, Chad suddenly approaches, glancing at your hand, his face faltering in concern.

“Hey, are you good?” he asks, his eyes scanning your hand. “You look like you're in pain.”

You wince, still trying to play it off as no big deal. But Chad catches sight of the blood trickling from the glass cut on your palm, and his eyes widen. "Holy shit, dude, we need to take you to a hospital."

You shake your head quickly, your voice still a little shaky. “It’s just a scratch, really. I’ll be fine.”

But Tara, her brows furrowing in concern, steps forward, and glances at your hand and gasps. “That’s not just a scratch,” she insists, her voice filled with worry. “You’re bleeding bad. Get up—Mindy call an Uber.”

You open your mouth to protest again, "No hospital, I'm fine I just need a first aid kit." Sam steps in with a calm, no-nonsense tone. “On it, I'll ask the bartender.”

Tara, who’s been silently observing the whole time, takes charge. Her voice is soft but firm as she grabs the first-aid kit from Sam’s hands once she rejoins the group. “I’ll do it,” she says, her gaze never leaving yours. “You’ve done enough tonight. Let me take care of you.”

Mindy, who’s been watching the exchange with a smirk, suddenly chimes in, a teasing edge to her voice. “Look at you, Y/n. Who knew you had this much of a protective streak? Tara’s got you all worried, huh?”

You feel your face flush, but before you can respond, Tara shakes her head at Mindy’s comment, her worry deepening. “She’s hurt, Mindy. It’s not funny.” Her voice softens as she turns back to you, “You’re really gonna be okay, right? I— I don’t want you to be hurt.”

You can see how much she cares, and it makes your chest tighten with emotions. Tara’s usually so tough, so guarded, but right now she’s nothing but concerned.

You try to reassure her, even though the tenderness in her gaze makes it hard to keep your cool. “I’m fine, really. You don’t have to worry so much.”

But Tara doesn’t seem convinced, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I can’t help it,” she admits softly, her voice almost a whisper. "I care."

The weight of her words lingers in the air, and for a moment, everything feels a little clearer between you two. Tara doesn’t just care for your safety—she cares about you.

She gently guides you to an empty booth, pulling you away from the noise and chaos of the bar. It’s just the two of you now, in your own little corner of the world. You slide into one side of the booth while she settles on the other, a table separating you, but it somehow feels closer than ever.

The silence stretches between you both, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. You hold your hand out toward her, palm facing up, your fingers trembling slightly from the sting. Tara’s gaze softens when she sees the injury, and with a quiet sigh, she reaches for the first-aid kit.

Her movements are slow, deliberate, as she opens the kit, pulling out antiseptic and gauze. You watch her, your heart pounding for reasons you can’t quite explain. She carefully dabs the cotton swab in the antiseptic, then presses it gently to the cut. You wince, a sharp sting jolting through your palm.

“Sorry,” Tara murmurs, her voice low and soothing. She frowns, her brows knitting together in concentration as she takes more care, dabbing at the wound more carefully this time. “I’m trying to be gentle. You’re not a fan of this whole ‘injured’ thing, huh?”

You chuckle softly, still feeling the burn of the antiseptic. “Nope. Not my favorite thing," your voice coming out a little more awkward than you intended.

"I can't believe a dork like you got in a fight."

You let out a small laugh, trying to hide the fact that her words have made your heart race. “I’m not a dork,” you protest weakly.

Tara raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eye. “Really? Because I could’ve sworn you were about to pass out the second I touched your hand.”

You blush even harder. Tara’s smile is warm, genuine, and it makes the sting of the antiseptic a little easier to bear.

“It’s not the touch,” you mumble, “it’s just... you’re too close.”

She laughs softly, a sound that makes your heart flutter. “Yeah? Guess I’ll just have to keep getting closer, then.”

Her words, teasing as they are, send a warmth rushing through you. You try to play it cool, but inside, you’re an absolute mess. The way she cares for you, even in such a simple moment, makes everything feel... different. It’s like a tiny shift in the air, making you want to stay in this little bubble of quiet with her forever.

Tara looks up at you, the gears turning in her head. Was she being unfair right now? Giving you mixed signals.

She continues cleaning the wound, but now with even more care. She choses her next words carefully not wanting to sour the mood, “I'm really sorry for how I treated you. I think with everything that happened last year, I was scared to let new people in, and so I was wary of you even though you’ve been nothing but amazing to me. I guess I just had my guard up and it was unfair and—"

"I know Tara, I forgive you don't worry," you smile at her. And its pure and genuine, and Tara knows that you mean that whole heartedly.

As Tara finishes bandaging the cut on your palm, she gently flips your hand over to check for any other injuries. Her fingers graze across the back of your hand, and she notices the bruised knuckles. For a split second, she pauses, her breath catching in her throat.

Her eyes linger on your hand—on the faded bruise, evidence of the fight you’d just gotten into—and for some reason, she can’t help but think it’s... hot. The way your hand looks, bruised but still strong, it makes something in her chest tighten. You got into a fight for her.

She quickly shakes her head, trying to push the thought away, but it lingers. What the hell is wrong with me? she thinks, her face flushing slightly. Tara quickly looks up at you, trying to mask her sudden embarrassment with a forced nonchalance. But you're just sat there beaming at her, telling her its okay for how she treated you in the past, that you forgive her.

Suddenly, Tara couldn’t just take it anymore. The way you were looking at her, so soft, so genuine, made her heart flutter in a way she couldn’t ignore. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and then, without warning, she leaned forward, her eyes locking with yours.

“You know,” she started, her voice low and teasing, “Mindy said you were incapable of acting first.”

You blinked, confusion flashing across your face. “What?” you asked, not sure where she was going with this.

Tara smirked, clearly amused. “And that if I wanted something to happen, I’d have to be the initiator.”

You furrowed your brow, still not understanding. “What are you talking about?”

Tara’s smile widened, and she leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping even lower. “I find that hard to believe, given how you just got in a fight for me. I know there’s a little boldness in you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and before you could even process what she was saying, she added, “But I guess so do I.”

Without warning, Tara reached across the table, her hand grabbing the front of your shirt. You froze, your breath catching as she pulled you closer, her face just inches from yours. Your heart raced as she leaned in, and then—before you could even think—her lips were on yours.

It was soft, tentative at first, like she was testing the waters. But then it deepened, and everything around you seemed to fade away. The kiss was warm, gentle, but there was an undeniable intensity to it, as if she was pouring everything she felt into that moment. Your uninjured hand instinctively reached for hers, feeling the pulse of her heartbeat against your fingertips.

When the kiss finally broke, both of you pulled away, breathless. Tara’s eyes were wide, a soft blush coloring her cheeks as she looked at you, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

You blinked, your mind racing, and then you couldn’t help but grin, a nervous laugh escaping you. “Damn... I should’ve gotten into a fight a lot sooner.”

Tara rolled her eyes, but her smile was all warmth, and you could see in her eyes that there was something deeper. Something unspoken, but undeniable.

Something that was always there.

Taglist: @cobaltperun @machyishere @freakshow2501 @nwestra @mcchicken88 @101rizzlrr @snowdrop1026 @ilovesneezing069 @btay3115 @burntoutghost

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐬 - 𝐬𝐢𝐦 𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

boxer!jake x nurse fem!reader

genre: exes to ??, mostly angst, a little fluff

warnings: mentions of bruises, blood, heavy injuries and surgery, probably poor medical references (i googled but in the end i have no clue, pls bear with me lmao)

word count: 5.3k

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

"can we get a nurse to the ER immediately, please?" you heard the charge nurse's firm demand through your communication device. you exchanged a quick glance with your colleague, and with a slight nod, she indicated she could handle the task alone. without hesitation, you used your pager to notify the ER that you were on your way, then dashed through the hallway and down the stairs to reach the emergency department.

"sorry, we're completely short-staffed," the charge nurse murmured in apology, ushering you toward a room. "male patient, twenties, just some bad bruises – likely needs stitches. we just got a family from a car crash, and we can’t tend to him right now."

with that, she left you at the door and hurried down the hall toward another room.

you pushed open the door, heading straight to the sanitizer dispenser. you rubbed it into your hands, then pulled on a pair of gloves from the box beside it, and added another layer of sanitizer.

"hello, my name is–"

the words caught in your throat as you turned around. the sharp scent of sanitizer seemed to sting your nose, burning your airways and stealing the breath from your lungs.

you froze, staring straight into a pair of familiar brown eyes – eyes you had learned to both love and hate. once filled with warmth, they now held an icy coldness, mixed with a flicker of surprise at the sight of you. just like you, he was sure you'd never meet again.

"y/n," he finished your sentence.

your throat tightened as your name rolled off his lips. you gulped down the lump in your throat as if you could swallow the whirlwind of feelings right down with it. you shook your head slightly, trying your best to focus on the situation at hand and staying professional.

"yes. i'll be your nurse today," you finished the rehearsed introduction you'd used at least a thousand of times during your two years at the hospital.

with another shaky breath, you slowly stepped closer to where he was sitting, waiting for any type of response from him but there was none.

"can you take off your hood, please?" you asked in the most professional tone you could muster. you nodded slightly when he pulled down his hood and leaned a little closer to examine his face. a pang of hurt rushed through you seeing him in the exact state you'd found him in many times before.

you were sitting on the sofa in the tiny apartment you shared with jake, your knees bent and pulled to your body as if that state could hold together the feelings that dared to overflow. you checked your phone again and again. nothing. as your head started to spin, wondering if tonight would be the night that he wouldn't come home, the sudden creak of the front door finally pulled you out of your daze, and you immediately shot to your feet, rushing toward the door. jake stumbled inside, his gaze on the floor and his hood hiding what you expected to be another field of bruises. "jake..." you whispered, your voice trailing off in a lack of things to say. you carefully took his shaking hand in yours and guided him to the bathroom, where you gently pressed down on his shoulders to make him sit on the edge of the bathtub. "i'm fine," he tried to reassure you the way he always did when he looked anything but fine. you stayed silent as you started cleaning up his bruises. the only sound breaking the silence was jake's occassional hiss when he clenched his fists as the antiseptical burned on his wounded skin. "you don't have to–", the words stuck in his throat with another sharp intake of breath as you cleaned up his bleeding lips with a cotton swap. "i can take care of it," he mumbled, and although he avoided your eyes, you could see a hint of regret flashing through his. "if you took care of yourself, you wouldn't keep coming home like this in the first place," you replied, your voice laced with a mixture of anger and frustration. you threw away the tissues and cotton swabs he'd bled through and faced him again to apply ointment to his bruises and patch them up if necessary. "what if one day you come home and i can't fix it, jake?" you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper. for a second, you stopped your movements, just standing in between his legs and looking at his battered face. "what if one day you don't even come ho–" "shh," his whisper interrupted you, "that won't happen, baby." jake raised his hands and brought them to your hips, pulling you a little closer to him. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and just held him close until your thoughts quieted down. for tonight, he was safe, you thought. you let go of him and took a step back, gently running your hand through his silky hair and examining his face one last time. then, you reached for the chapstick that you kept on the sink, gently applied it to the ripped skin on his lips, and softly brushed your lips against his. after you pulled away from his lips, you cupped his chin between your thumb and index finger and leaned down to press a gentle kiss on each of his bruises. "you need to stop this, jake," you whispered later when the two of you had gone to bed and he was holding you tightly although every muscle in his body hurt. he couldn't not have you close to him.

"you won't ask what happened?" he suddenly spoke up, breaking your thoughts and pulling you back to reality.

for a second, you tensed again. then, you sighed almost inaudibly, lingering by his face for another second before taking a sudden step backwards and turned around to gather all the things you'd need to treat him. you could practically feel the intensity of his gaze, although you had your back to him.

you turned back around, your face as nonchalant as you could manage as you shook your head.

"i don't care what happened," you replied shortly.

his lips twitched into something resembling a smirk, though it was faint and visibly pained him. “still bossy,” he said under his breath.

you clenched your jaw at his remark, but sat down in front of him and ran your hand through his hair in the gentlest way possible to get his bangs out of his face.

"and you're still reckless. now, hold still," you ordered.

for a while, the room was silent except for the occasional sharp intake of breath as you cleaned his cuts. you tried to focus on the task, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling of his heavy gaze on you.

"this one needs stitches," you said, tapping carefully on the skin next to one particularly deep bruise on his cheek, "it might hurt a litte."

as you began stitching the bruise, his hand moved slowly, almost tentatively, to brush against your wrist. the touch was light, but it still sent a shiver through you. you glanced up sharply, but before you could say anything, he caught your hand.

“jaeyun,” you said, a warning tone in your voice, but he didn’t let go. instead, he brushed his thumb across your knuckles. then, in a gesture so achingly familiar it nearly shattered the walls you’d built around yourself, he pressed a gentle kiss there.

your breath hitched. “what do you think you're doing?” you asked, your voice so barely audible that you hated how vulnerable you sounded.

his eyes met yours, and for the first time since you'd stepped into the room, they softened just a little. “trying to remember what it felt like,” he said, his voice low and hoarse, “to have someone who cares.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. you pulled your hand back, your heart racing, but despite everything, you mustered the courage to reply. “i don't care. this is my job, not…” you trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

you wordlessly finished stitching up his wound, grabbed his chin in between your thumb and index finger like you'd done countless of times before and turned his head to both sides so you could examine his face.

your eyes trailed to the bruise marring his lips. they were as plump as you remembered, but the familiar softness was gone. they looked slightly rougher now – chapped and marked with faint remnants of past bruises.

you reached for a clean cotton swab, dipping it gently into the antiseptic. his gaze stayed fixed on you, the weight of it almost making your hands falter. carefully, you dabbed at the bruise on his lips, the antiseptic gliding over it. his lips parted slightly at the touch.

the bruises on his lips were always the hardest to see. he was already struggling with sores from time to time, and every other day, a new bruise was added to what had become a painful collection. but jake loved to kiss you. your lips, your cheeks, your knuckles, your forehead, the tip of your nose – he'd kiss you everywhere, again and again, no matter how much it pained him. only once had he not been able to kiss you. and, of course, it had to be your anniversary. he had promised you to not go that day – had promised you to be home for dinner that you'd prepared so lovingly, cooking all his favorite dishes and even bringing out the nice plates his parents had gifted you when you'd first moved in together. the ones you usually only used for guests. but as time passed, and the blue sky outside your kitchen window slowly turned to black, you knew he wouldn't be home before midnight. you tried to be angry, really, but you couldn't stop the waves of worries from washing over you again and again. with shaking hands, you grabbed your phone to call him, certain he wouldn't answer. but after only two rings, you heard his voice. "babe? i'm on my way, i–" "are you okay?" you interrupted, your voice trembling slightly. just hearing him eased the twist in your stomach, but not fully. jake swallowed hard on the other end, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. "i'm sorry," he replied after a while. "i know i promised." he sounded guilty. "you did," you replied quietly. "please... just come home." the line went silent except for the sound of jake's breathing, and you knew he was searching for the right things to say, but you still hung up. the dinner you'd put so much effort into had long gone cold, yet you couldn't get yourself to empty the table. you waited silently, eyes fixed on the clock on the wall, until the door clicked and jake's footsteps echoed through the hall. "princess?" jake's familiar voice called, a little unsure but loud enough to hear. he kicked off his shoes and rushed to the kitchen where you were sitting in your chair. you looked at him, your heart aching at how tired his eyes looked – at how his face was covered in fresh bruises; one on his jaw, one right below his temple, and a fresh one on his bottom lip. your eyes filled with tears that you quickly blinked away. he didn't say anything as he stepped closer, pulled you to your feet and embraced you in a tight hug, although it made him flinch. you buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent as you tightened your arms around him. “i’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair, “i should’ve been here. i shouldn’t have–” you pulled away and looked up at him. jake hesitated, his eyes scanning your face. then, he leaned down and kissed your forehead. it hurt him – you could see in the way his jaw tightened and feel it in the way he pulled back immediately. "i'm sorry."

jake's sudden hiss broke the silence another time. "ah– y/n–"

you quickly pulled back the cotton swab from his lips, only realizing then that you had kept it on his wound while deep in thoughts yet again.

"sorry," you mumbled, blinking quickly as if that could erase the image your mind had just replayed, "did it sting?" your eyes flicked up to his.

"a little," he admitted, his voice low.

you pressed your lips together, focusing on your task as you cleaned away the faint streaks of dried blood and dirt clinging to the cracks. for a moment, your thumb brushed the edge of his jaw, steadying his face as you worked.

your hands were itching to pull out the chapstick you kept in the pocket of your coat and soothe his lips with it like you always used to do after cleaning up yet another bruise.

"you used to just kiss them better," he mumbled, more to himself than to you, but his words still made you freeze for a second.

"are you hurt anywhere else?" you asked, avoiding his eyes as you took one of his hands in yours and silently cleaned his bleeding knuckles.

his eyes traced down from your face to his hand in yours, slightly bigger, probably a lot rougher. it reminded him of how you'd often cleaned the blood off of his knuckles before, but also of how you'd loved to play with his hands when you were cuddled up against each other on the sofa or in bed. or how you'd always let him take the leftover lotion from your hands whenever you'd applied too much again. he was sure your hands were just as soft as he remembered them underneath the thin plastic gloves.

"jake?", you asked again, reminding him of the previous question he'd left unanswered.

he hesitated for a second, before slowly pulling his hand out of your hold, internally forwning at the loss of your touch, and reaching for the hem of the shirt he wore underneath the zip hoodie.

he slowly pulled it up until you could see a dark red bruise blooming on his ribcage. you winced slightly at the sight but still leaned in a little closer to get a better look, bringing two fingers up to the bruise and carefully letting them ghost over his skin.

"there's not much you can do for a hematoma. ice packs and... rest," you said, your eyes flicking up to his at your last word. jake lowered his shirt again and just nodded wordlessly.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. you just stood in front of him, not close enough for your legs to brush against his knees but not far enough to feel entirely out of his reach. his eyes met yours and for the first time since you'd seen him sitting in the ER, you didn't look away.

secretly, you hoped he'd see the hurt somewhere in your eyes. that he'd somehow understand how badly he fucked you up, even now that you supposedly didn't care about him anymore.

jake's hand was itching to reach for yours, to graze his fingertips over your knuckles again. hell, maybe to take your hand and pull you into a tight hug – knowing damn well every muscle in his body would hurt too much – but still, holding you so close you'd never leave him again.

but just as his hand moved forward the tiniest bit, you broke eye contact and took another step back, bringing more distance between the two of you.

"you're all patched up," you said sternly, "you'll get your papers and instructions in a few." with these words, you walked toward the door, yet you hesitated to leave.

you turned around to look at him one last time. "take care, jake. seriously, i don't want to see you here again."

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the flourescent lights softly buzzed above you as you rushed from patient to patient. your feet were hurting at this point, but you knew you'd only have two more hours left until your shift was over.

you had picked up extra shifts, not entirely voluntarily due to the staff shortage, but you honestly didn't mind. keeping yourself busy kept any thoughts about your encounter with jake almost three weeks ago in the very back of your mind.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't worried deep down, but he hadn't made another appearance in the hospital since the last time, so at least, he was dealing with less severe wounds now.

you were finishing a report on the patient you'd just treated when the charge nurses firm voice made you flinch.

"incoming male patient in his twenties with suspected head trauma and possible internal bleeding. ETA three minutes. notify surgery – likely immediate intervention."

you looked up from the paper, focusing your attention on her and waiting for further instructions.

"y/n, you're prepping," she said, giving you a short look. you nodded, put down your clipboard and followed along as the team moved toward the ambulance bay.

"paramedics said he got injured in a fight," the charge nurse informed. you nodded again, mentally going through the steps you'd have to take now, until you really registered what she'd said.

suspected head trauma. possible internal bleeding. injured in a fight.

the combination of the facts she'd thrown at you and your colleagues so professionally started to ring in your ears like a deafening alarm.

jake.

you felt your heart starting to pound violently in your chest and your airways seemed to swell with every step you took toward where you'd await the ambulance. every worst-case scenario ran through your mind, each more terrifying than the last.

only when you tripped over your own foot, stumbling forward just slightly before catching yourself, you snapped out of it and managed to gather your thoughts again. countless of people got into fights every day. it's not him.

when the double doors of the ambulance burst open, you caught sight of the stretcher, slightly shuddering at the sight of the motionless figure laying on it. it wasn't your first time seeing a patient like this, but that didn't make it more pleasant.

"he's stable for now," one of the paramedics announced, "caller said he hit his head on the floor after a punch. unconscious when we found him. nose bleed, slight swelling of the head, pupils unequal," he rattled off the patient's symptoms.

"we managed to stabilize him, but his vitals dipped twice."

your heart was already in your throat, but when you stepped closer and got a clear view of the patient's face the world seemed to stop.

he looked battered, but you'd always recognize him – in every state, in every lifetime. his skin was pale, sickly so, and blood stuck his bangs to his forehead. a deep gash stretched over his temple, still leaking blood. dried red stains under his nostrils, on his cheeks – everywhere. so. much. blood.

you tried to stay calm but the walls were closing around you, squeezing you tighter until you couldn't breathe anymore. your vision started to blur as you reached for the handle of the stretcher with termbling hands.

"y/n," someone called, but the sound was muffled, like it was coming from underwater.

"jake," his name slipped past your lips in a whisper. you felt your head spinning, every late night thought that had plagued you for so long before you'd walked away from him crashing down on you – revealing reality in its ugliest form.

you didn't realize how much you were shaking until one of the other nurses grabbed your arm to gently guide you away. "i don't think you should–"

"no!" you exclaimed, pulling your arm free and stepping closer again, "i n-need to–"

“y/n,” the charge nurse’s voice cut through, snapping you out of the haze. “step back. now.”

the tone in her voice left no room for argument, but your feet still felt rooted in place. it wasn’t until the stretcher began to roll toward the operating room that you finally stepped back.

the outline of jake's body, all blurry from the tears in your eyes, was the last thing you saw before the doors swung shut behind him.

the charge nurse started to say something, but every noise around you shut down except for the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears and your breath coming ragged.

jake.

you hated him. you loved him. and now, he felt like he was slipping through your fingers for good.

your legs felt numb as you paced up and down the hall, not able to stay still. your body felt exhausted after pushing through your intense 10 hour shift, but you felt restless. time seemed to extend forever as you kept waiting for an update. you didn't know how long the surgery had been going on when the doors finally swung open and revealed the surgeon.

you quickly approached him, although you didn't know if you were ready to be confronted with whatever news he had. his expression seemed calm, but he might as well have looked horrified – you wouldn't breathe until you'd heard the confirming words.

"he's stable," he said finally, and as you hesitated to reply, he added, "he'll be fine. he'll take some time but–"

"can i see him?" you interrupted.

the surgeon furrowed his brows slightly. "he's not awake yet. he needs rest now, y/n."

you should have felt relieved but your terror wouldn't ease until you've seen him with your own eyes.

"please," you pressed, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

he hesitated for a while. your stomach started to drop another time until he gave in and sighed. "i guess you can help out in the recovery room," he mumbled, clearly not fully happy with the idea. you paced off before he could change his mind, only stopping to hesitate for a second once you reached the room. you took a deep breath before opening the door.

your eyes fell on jake immediately, he was lying in bed and although the sight of him wired to all types of machines and with a bandage around his head was worrying, you let yourself breathe for the first time since his arrival. he looked almost peaceful.

your vision blurred as you stepped closer and pulled a chair to his bed to sit down for the first time in hours. you reached out, your hand hovering slightly over his before you pulled it back again.

"i swear to god, jake, i–" a soft sob escaping your throat cut you off.

minutes passed, maybe an hour. you were just sitting next to his bed, blankly staring at him while the tears rolled down your face until you didn't have any left to cry.

when jake's eyes slowly fluttered open, the bright lights above forced him to squeeze them shut again immediately. his head was pounding, the almost unbearable pain forcing a quiet groan out of him.

he took a deep breath and forced his eyes open again, slowly taking in the environment in an attempt to make sense of his whereabouts. as he slowly came to his senses, he started feeling the even rushes of air against his arm.

jake forced himself to move his head to the side, although that only reinforced the pain he now felt in his entire body.

but all the pain melted away when he saw you – your head placed next to him on the matress, your soft breath brushing against his skin. your eyes were closed, your lashes wet and your cheeks slightly flushed. you had been crying for him. and you were here. even after everything he'd put you through.

it was only a few weeks after the ruined anniversary dinner when jake couldn't hold it in anymore. "there's something i haven't told you," he stated when you were cuddled up against him on the sofa. his heart was pounding violently in his chest when you sat up and swallowed so hard that he could hear it. "what is it?" you asked and jake swore the anxiety in your voice nearly shattered his heart into a million pieces. because it wasn't the first time you'd sounded like this, not the first time he'd made you sound like this. and the worst part? he couldn't blame you. when had all of this gone so wrong – when had he stopped being a safe place for you? jake took a deep, shaky breath before he continued, his voice careful as if it could break you. "you remember how i... worked hard, right?" your expression stayed blank, except for the crease that formed between your eyebrows. jake took your wordless nod as a sign to go on. "last week, after one of my boxing sessions," jake began, pausing to gather his courage, "there was this scout. he said he’d been watching me for a while... and that he liked what he saw." your lips parting slightly as you processed his words. "he offered me a chance to go pro." there it was. the sparkle in your eyes. the one thing he wanted to see the most, and the one thing he'd extinguish yet another time. "that's amazing, jake," you said, the relief in your tone only pressing down harder on him. "that means... proper guidelines, more safety?" he nodded slowly, avoiding your eyes as his gaze stayed fixated on the cushions of the sofa. "so...?" you continued carefully. "i turned it down," jake said quickly, as if saying it slower would take away the courage to say it at all. he didn't look at you. couldn't get himself to see the announcement crashing down on you in another wave of disappointment and worry. "you what?" you asked. your voice sounded so unsure – as if you'd only misheard – and jake's heart cracked when he repeated his words. "i turned it down," this time slower. "jake, you said–" "i know what i said, y/n. that i'd take the chance immediately if i got it. but this is not who i am, this–... i don't want to play by other people's rules and–" "do you even hear yourself?" you interrupted. your voice was filled with both anger and frustration and even though jake hated it, you were right. "play by other people's rules? you turned down the chance to do what you want to do, but safely. you've been coming home looking like hell for months. i don't care if you win or not, a body can only take that much," you continued, growing a bit louder with each word. jake knew you were right, and he knew it was wrong when he raised his voice back at you. when he shoved your feelings aside for his pride. "i don't get why you care so much. it's not like you're getting hurt," he replied, his tone agitated. "you're my everything, jake, don't you get that?" you almost screamed, tears of frustration daring to fall from your eyes. the sight of you like this deepened the crack, finally breaking his heart. but he just gritted his teeth, his jaw visibly tensing. you blinked a few times before standing up. "but you're right," you said in a stable voice although jake could see your hands slightly shaking, "i can't keep caring about you when you don't give two shits about yourself." and with that, you left the room – and a few minutes later the apartment.

another low groan stirred you awake. you slowly opened your eyes, blinking away the sleep, and then straightened your back almost immediately when you realized you'd fallen asleep.

your eyes immediately fell on jake and you felt like the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders when you saw him looking back at you. he was awake.

you immediately shot to your feet,."are you hurting?" you asked in an almost alarmed tone, turning around to provide him with painkillers, but the weak grasp on your wrist stopped you.

you slowly turned back around to face jake as he raised your hand to his lips and weakly brushed an attempt of a kiss against your knuckles, just like he'd always done.

"why are you here? i thought you hated me" he said, his voice so faint that it was almost inaudible.

you looked at him blankly, "i... do hate you."

jake didn't reply. the silence between you stretched. you wanted to say it, to admit it. to tell him that you didn't hate him. that you were still so fucking in love with him. that you'd always been, even when his reckless behavior made you lose your mind. that you'd never stopped caring about him.

but you just stared at him, your throat tightening with the words you didn’t know how to say. jake’s eyes, even though they were filled with exhaustion, never left yours.

he broke the silence first, although with only a whsiper, “i’m sorry.”

your breath hitched, and you blinked, unsure if you’d heard him right.

“for everything,” jake continued. “for all the times i didn’t listen. for making you hate me.” his lips curled into a faint, sad smile. “and for breaking every promise i made to you.”

your heart ached at his words. you searched his face for a hint of insincerity, but there was none.

“you’ve got a lot to be sorry for,” you said softly, sitting back down in the chair.

“i know.” he shifted slightly on the bed, wincing at the pain but refusing to break eye contact. “at some point, i didn’t care what happened to me because…” he trailed off, his gaze leaving yours for the first time.

“because...?”

his eyes returned to yours. “because i knew i was losing you, y/n. i know it sounds stupid," he hesitated, "but losing you already felt like i was dead. so i didn’t care what happened.”

the words hit you like a wave, knocking the breath out of your lungs. your fingers twitched, and before you could stop yourself, you reached for his hand. his skin was rough, but the way his fingers curled around yours was heartbreakingly gentle.

"every time you came home like this, i thought i’d lose you, " you said, your voice shaking, "and then i guess i finally did.”

jake shook his head, despite the new jolt of pain that rushed through him. “you never lost me,” he whispered.

the walls you’d spent so long building crumbled, piece by piece. you wanted to hate him, yes. but you also loved him – so much it felt like your heart had never been ready to let go, even when your mind had told you to.

“i don’t hate you,” you murmured. “i never did.”

your eyes met his again, and for the first time in months, it didn't feel like drowning – it felt like coming home.

just as jake was about to bring your hand up to his lips again, the door swung open to reveal the surgeon. you quickly pulled your hand away and straightened your back.

"mr sim?" he asked, to which jake looked at him expectantly.

"i'm sure you've heard this before," the surgeon continued, his eyes flicking to you, before focusing back on jake, "but you need rest. that means no boxing for now. you got severely injured and it will take a long while to heal fully."

your eyes went from the doctor to jake, and as you saw him swallowing, you absentmindedly took his hand in yours again, his fingers gently curling around yours.

jake nodded as best as he could and the surgeon left without another word. as you looked back at jake, you opened your mouth to say something, but he beat you to it.

"no boxing at all anymore," he said softly, causing your eyes to widen just slightly, "i'll stop if it means i'll get another chance to be with you."

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

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[wonderjanga]

Hello!(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) Yeah, this is just a random thing that I suddenly came up while browsing some Shazam fan arts

What if, Shazam can control his pulse and/or heartbeat/heart rate. Like, a JL league could check his pulse while he's asleep(For no reason or fun) and it's absolutely zero. So, it's hard trying to tell if Captain Marvel is asleep or dead. And about him controlling his heartbeat/heart rate, he can literally control how fast it goes. Sometimes it's just so slow that it's like a dying person, and sometimes it's so fast(I kinda want you to write a story about this...😔😔 If you have time, and have a good day!🫶🏼)

I’ve actually already done this before. Or, I at least had a little tidbit of it in one of my earliest posts. (Marvel Messing with the JL post) I think I also touched up on it a bit in my Barely Human Cap post too, but I’m happy to expand on it though!

Billy can control his heart rate as Marvel. It’s something he found out he could do after Solomon happened to let it slip one time. So, he uses it to his advantage.

Like, the time Junior and Marvel were talking at a little get together thrown by the JL. Then for whatever reason the room just happened to go silent as Junior said what was probably the worst and most embarrassing sense Billy had ever heard. The silence was so loud.

Marvel and Junior: *just standing there as the JL stare*

Thankfully though, Billy and Freddy came up with a plan if anything would ever happen like this.

Marvel and Junior: *lock eyes*

Marvel: *sighs for what he’s about to do, slowly lets his heart rate start to increase and stumbles to lean on a nearby table*

Freddy: “Cap?” *fake concern*

Marvel: *let his hand clench at his chest as he lets out a groan*

That’s right. He’s faking a heart attack.

Marvel: *lets himself fall, continuing to clench his chest*

Supes: *can hear his heart rate and looks horrified* “OH MY RAO!?”

There was a lot of screaming and yelling and all that. Freddy got them out of there thankfully without having to take him to the medbay.

They’ve pulled this move several times.

Anyways, another way he’s used this move before is lying. Since Supes can detect lies based on heartbeat, it’s kinda easy for Marvel. Don’t get him wrong, he’s completely screwed if Diana uses her lasso though.

Marvel: “It’s true!”

Supes: “It is not!” *smiling cause Marvel is a funny guy*

Marvel: “But it is! I fought a giant purple magnifying glass that tried to burn the earth to a crisp!” *making sure his heartbeat is steady*

Supes: “No way…”

Though, he has faced some problems due to this skill. Like the time he went to sleep in one of the medical cots. Just face down, ass up, sleeping without a care in the world. After all, these guys are his friends so why would he care?

Unbeknownst to Billy, because, of course, he was sleeping, Martian Manhunter came in, saw him, laying motionless on the bed and thought he was injured so he went over to check his pulse. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Not a single beat. He panicked and alerted the other members. That’s how they held a funeral service with a coffin they got from somewhere.

Marvel: *stirring awake*

Flash: “Can we at least call somebody? I know he has no listed contacts or relatives, but surely we can call someone.”

Wondy: “Flash, it’s highly likely any of Marvel’s relatives would probably be deceased, considering the fact that he’s a demigod.”

GL: “What about that Junior kid? Crap… did any of us call him?”

Marvel: *sits up* “Junior?”

The JL proceeded to let out the loudest culmination of screams ever heard. Canary even accidentally used a bit of her powers.

Supes: “Captain!” *flies over checking Marvel over*

Marvel: “Yeah?” *scratches head, a little too groggy to register the casket he was just in and instead floats out and lands on the ground*

They proceeded to dog pile on him.

[arc-misadventures]

Right on Schedule

Jaune looked over a progress report as he was once again was inspecting the walls of, Mantle's newest fortifications. The time graph they had made was displaying good progress the wall. Displaying that for a week, and a half of work, they were well on schedule, even ahead of it in some areas. But, there was a very noticeable dip in the chart from two days ago. A dip that, Jaune didn't like.

Jaune: Hey, Major Skender?

Major Felix Skender, was an officer in the, Atlas Engineer Corp. Jaune had talked to, Major Skender quite often when he came to inspect the wall. He had come to like the fellow. He was a little quirky, though from, Jaune's experience that tended to me a normal habit of anyone into pyrotechnics. Least, Major Skender seemed to be the saner side of things.

At least he hoped he was.

Maj. Skender: Yes, Sir?

Jaune: It's nice to see how things are coming along. I dare say you might be ahead of schedule.

Maj. Skender: Ahh, thank you, Sir! Yes, we are being encouraged by the higher ups to get this completed as soon as we can. That way we can get back to work on the, CC...?!

Jaune's hand shot up silencing, Major Skender instantly. Jaune, gave the, Major a cautionary gaze as he lowered his hand.

Jaune: We do not address it as that. We address it as, General Ironwood's Project, Ironwood's Secret Project, or anthing along those lines. But, we do not say what it is. It is a secret project after all, Major.

Maj. Skender: Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.

Jaune: Good, make sure that the other officers are made aware of this as well. There are many who would take great pleasure in derailing the, General's future plans.

Maj. Skender: Understood, Sir.

Jaune: Now then, about this timetable here... What was this dip here you experience two days ago? You were delayed by about half a day, but you've made up for it. Good job on that, Major.

Maj. Skendor: Oh, thank you, Sir!

Jaune: But, nonetheless; what happened here?

Maj. Skender: Two days ago...? Ahh yes, a bunch of, Happy Huntresses came by, and were disturbing the workers.

Jaune: The, Happy Huntresses? What did they do?

Maj. Skender: They were interrogating some of the workers; They were asking them about what weapons we were installing, how long we were taking. Why did it take so long for, General Ironwood to order the reconstruction, and fortification of the walls. Things such as that.

Jaune: Weren't the people of, Mantle already made aware of these things; Why were they asking what should be seen as common knowledge?

Maj. Skender: I'm sorry, Sir, but I do not know why.

Jaune: Hmmm... Very well then...

Jaune handed back the data slate before giving one last look at the construction upon the wall.

Jaune: I will be taking my leave then. Till later, Major.

Maj. Skender: Till later, Sir.

The Major offered, Jaune a salute who returned one in kind. Jaune then made his way down a flight of stairs. As he made away from the wall he pulled out his scroll, and typed out a simple message to, 'Finch.'

"We need to talk."

Jaune quickly put away his scroll as he walked down the many paths of, Mantle interacting with civilians as he went about. He kept walking until he felt a buzz from his pocket, and he checked his scroll, and read the message that he had been sent.

"Okay. Usual spot?"

"On my way."

Jaune quickly made his way towards the downtown area of, Mantle, heading into one of the many empty warehouses in the southern parts of, Mantle.

As, Jaune entered the warehouse, he was met with the familiar sight of, Robyn Hill resting against one of the many empty crates. She pushed herself off the crate as she walked towards, Jaune. An odd smile spread across her face that, Jaune could not quite place as she walked towards him.

Robyn: Hello, Jaune. What is it?

Jaune: Hello, Robyn. I need to ask you about something that happened a couple a days ago.

Robyn: I suppose you're asking about the incident at the wall that happened the other day?

Robyn crossed her arms, and shook her head. Jaune worried that he may have upset her, but her eyes said she was more so disappointed. Was she disappointed in him for not trusting her? No, no she wasn't disappointed in, Jaune. She was disappointed in herself. Herself, and her followers.

Jaune: What happened?

Robyn: Some of my followers... they saw how quickly the wall was repaired. So, they went to the wall, and wanted to know why, General Ironwood was taking so long to order it's reconstruction if it only took three days to do. Since the, Engineers couldn't explain it, the people got angry, and... well they got rowdy.

Jaune: And, the Engineer's had to keep them back so they didn't get too close to the construction site. Otherwise something could have happen to them. Or, worse, one of them could have gotten hurt.

Robyn: Exactlly.

Jaune: So that's why construction was delayed. Since I didn't hear anything about a mass arrest, I suppose it was dealt with peacefully?

Robyn: Yes, two of my cohorts; Fiona, and another member of the. Happy Huntresses, May Marigold came by, and dispersed them. I told them to make sure things like this didn't happen again.

Jaune: They better. The sections getting the new fortifications will have armed guards around them all the time. While I am certain of the, Atlasian Militaries trigger discipline, I wouldn't hold it past, Ironwood to get... itchy fingers.

Robyn: Do you think, General Ironwood would order his troops to open fire on civilians?!

Jaune waved his hand down, placing one on his lips as he looked at, Robyn. Her voiced echoing in the empty warehouse.

Jaune: Your voice carries, Robyn; In more ways than one.

Robyn: I'm sorry... I just... Do you seriously think, General Ironwood would do that?

Jaune looked at, Robyn before turning to look away shaking his head.

Jaune: I not saying he will, but... If he was pushed far enough...

Robyn: Oh... oh no... No wonder you want me on the council; The more I learn about, General Ironwood, the more I understand why you want someone to put a leash on him.

Jaune: Someone has to, and the only person who could is... preoccupied...

Robyn: Preoccupied with what?

Jaune: Uhhh...? A severe case of identity crisis...

Robyn: Really?

Jaune: More, or less...

Jaune didn't want to lie to, Robyn, he wanted to keep her trust in him. But, knowing about Ozpin, and Oscar was a whole bucket of worms that he didn't want to deal with. And, besides, even if she used her semblance on him, he wasn't lying. Technically.

Robyn: ...

Robyn: Very well. Is that it all you wanted to talk about, Jaune?

Jaune: That's it. Is there anything you want from me, Robyn?

Robyn: Uhh... yes there is.

Jaune: Oh, what is it?

Robyn: I was wondering if you wouldn't mind coming to one of my rallies I'm having today?

Jaune: Oh, why so?

Robyn: Several reasons. You've mostly heard about my political policies, and plans from my supporters.

Jaune: I have.

Robyn: Well, I was wondering if you'd like to hear it from the horses mouth. To know what I think of, and how I plan to help the people of, Mantle, and Atlas.

Jaune: And, to have a, Specialist there to... show their... No, to show, Atlas's support for you?

Robyn stopped, and stared at, Jaune. A coy smile appeared across her lips as she pointed a finger at him.

Robyn: You can say that.

Jaune returned her coy smile with one of his own.

Jaune: If anyone asks, just say I'm there to keep the peace. We'll use the incident at the wall the other day as an example.

Robyn: Alright then. Let's do this.

~~~

Jaune had never been at a political rally before. He thought it would involve a lot of wine sipping, and snobbish wealthy people speaking down to people. If this was a political rally run by someone like, Jacques Schnee it would no doubt be like that. But, no, this was more simple, more relatable. It was nice.

Although, Jaune certainly had something to say about her posters.

; Jaune? Jaune!

Jaune: Hmm? Oh, hello, Casey, fancy seeing you here today.

Casey Roll. One of the mothers he often saw when he was leading kids to school, and often was the one who gave him rather large servings of casseroles to him. While he did miss taking those kids to school, he was tired of all the casseroles...

Casey: Hi, Jaune! I haven't seen you lately, what are you doing here?

Jaune: Oh, I'm just here to make sure things go smoothly. We don't want another incident like we had at the wall the other day.

Casey: Oh, I heard about that. People were upset that, General Ironwood didn't order the repairs of the wall sooner if it was only going to take a matter of days to rebuild it. But, luckily he listened to, Robyn Hill so he decided to rebuild the wall, and fortify it!

Jaune smiled, Casey's enthusiasm was infectious, but even more so at the news that his little rumor was spreading so well. He told, Casey's friends about his little white lie, if she was repeating it, then no doubt others were as well.

Casey: So, even though you're here just watching things, are you enjoying yourself?

Jaune: To a point. I'm just inspecting the 'art' right now.

Casey: You mean the, Robyn's political posters.?

Jaune: Yes. The political posters...

Casey: ...

Casey: You hate it don't you?

Jaune: Oh absolutely. This an absolutely the worse design you can make for a political poster. I mean, give me a marker, and five minutes, and boom! Wanted poster!

Casey: ...

Casey: Oh shit... you could do that... How much?

Jaune: Hmmm...?

Jaune: At least ten thousand lien.

Casey: That's fair.

Jaune: I mean, why doesn't she have a slogan, or anything like that? 'Robyn Hill, The Hope of Mantle.' Something simple like that. At least she could be smiling in the photo. Or, is being dead on the inside a natural expression for people from, Atlas, and Mantle?

Casey: Yes.

Jaune stopped staring at, Robyn's picture to give, Casey a concerned look. But, based upon the expression on, Casey's face that she was giving him, she was in fact: dead serious.

Jaune: ...

Casey: ...

Jaune: Noted...

Casey shrugged her shoulders before she let loose a startled gasp as she darted to the side, Jaune looked over to see, Robyn, and a few of her, Happy Huntresses behind her.

Robyn: Hello, Specialist Arc, it's nice to see, General Ironwood's underlings showing some concern with the common people of, Mantle.

Jaune: Hello, Miss Hill. The concerns of, Mantle are also the concerns of, Atlas. So of course, General Ironwood is concerned about the common people of, Atlas. but, in this case, Miss. Hill I am here to keep the peace. We do not wish for another incident from your followers, like we did at the wall the other day.

Robyn: There wouldn't have been an 'incident' if, General Ironwood had rebuilt the wall once it was broken.

Jaune: So you say.

Casey had back away as, Jaune, and Robyn had begun to verbally spare with one another. As soon as she was out of earshot the conversation changed to something that carried a more casual air to it.

Jaune: Putting up a facade for your darling fans?

Robyn: We may be... allies of sorts, Jaune. But, since you are an, Atlasian Specialist, I do have to put up an air of defiance towards you, and by extension, General Ironwood. I'm glad you caught on so quickly, Jaune.

Jaune: It was simple enough to catch on to. I've seen how you act with my fellow, Specialists. So it was easy enough to play the... polite jerk with you.

Robyn: So you did... Well if you'll excuse me, I must address the people of, Mantle.

Jaune: Best of luck then... 'Councilwoman' Hill.

Jaune's comment may have been taken as a teasing jest from, Jaune. As if saying that she will never get a seat on the council. But, Robyn knew from the small smirk that, Jaune gave her was that she had his full support, and hope for her to get that seat on the council. For the good of, Mantle, and Atlas.

~~~

Robyn: Welcome everyone!

A cheer of zeal, and joy abundance echoed through the auditorium as, Robyn stood on the stage, and walked before her supporters. Jaune spared, Robyn a look as she took the stage before his eyes rested on the crowd, and watched them carefully.

Robyn: As many you have seen, Atlas have begun the reconstruction of the walls of, Mantle!

More cheers echoed as, Robyn celebrated the walls reconstruction with her supporters.

Robyn: I know many of you are happy that the people of, Atlas are supporting the people of, Mantle. That they are not only rebuilding the breach in the wall, but also fortifying it! Adding weapons to protect the people of, Mantle from the, Grimm!

Robyn: I know some of you are angry. That this should have been done years ago, that the walls should have been fortified as they will be the day they were built. Or, the fact that when they start firing those guns, it will be rather loud...

The audience laughed at, Robyn's simple remark. But, after hearing that, Jaune made a mental note in the back of his mind that they better inform people when they started test firing the weapon emplacements. He could think of several reasons why people wouldn't like that.

Robyn: But, the people of, Mantle, and Atlas are one people. We may call ourselves, Mantlites, or Atlasians, but at the end of the day, we are one people. One people who should not be fighting each other, but a common enemy: The Grimm.

Jaune could hear murmurs of agreements as, Robyn said those words. The Grimm were the people of, Mantle, and Atlas true enemy. Not each other. Jaune could agree with that, the Gri...?!

Jaune's mind abandoned his previous train of thoughts on, Robyn's word. Something was here, someone was here. Jaune had seen something. A lanky individual, a brown cloak over their head. Jaune recognized that shape. And, if it was who he thought it was, then things were about to get messy...

Jaune drowned out the world as he slowly weaved his way through the crowd. His mind was solely focused on the individual that was moving closer to the stage. Jaune quickly made his way to cut them off, but was careful to make his sure his presence was unnoticed. But, if it was who he feared it was, he knew their attention solely focused on, Robyn.

And, it was, considering they never saw him coming until his cerulean eyes locked in on his crazed yellow eyes.

Jaune: Hello, Tyrian~!

Tyrian: Wha?!

Jaune pulled out his sword, and sent it flying towards, Tyrian's face. People screamed as they ran out of the way, and started to flee the building. Unfortunately, Tyrian was a slippery bastard as he weaved out of the way of, Crocea Mors pristine white blade.

The crowd started screaming as they ran away. Jaune tapped his hip several times before deploying his shield, and taking a defensive stance at the mad scorpion faunas.

Tyrian: Whoa-hahaha! Well, hello again!

Jaune: I would say it's nice to see you again, but that'd be a lie.

Tyrian: Hahaha! Well it's nice to see you again!

Jaune: I doubt that...

Jaune was stalling for time; Jaune's greatest concern wasn't just, Tyrian, but also the civilians here. But, as he was stalling for time, most of the civilians in the auditorium had managed to escape, the only one that remained was, Robyn. She had sent, Fiona, and May off to help evacuate the civilians. With one extra huntresses, the odds were now on his side. But, nonetheless... the odds are never good when fighting a psychopath.

Tyrian: Well, since you spoiled the fun I bes... Whaa?!

Jaune stabbed forward with his sword hoping to catch, Tyrian off guard, but he managed to dodge out of the way, but, Jaune was more focused on keeping him here, and not letting the slippery bastard from getting away.

Jaune swung his sword in an upward arc, before leveling it it to stab at, Tyrian, before pulling back his blade back, deflecting the mad scorpions bladed gauntlets.

Tyrian jumped back before charging forward, and jumping on, Jaune's shield planning to throw him off balance, and take him down. But, just like many others before him, they all underestimated, Jaune's capabilities.

Jaune felt, Tyrian push on his shield, and cackle on as he readied his stinger to stab at, Jaune only for, Jaune to push his arm forward, and send him flying back. He spun in the air before landing on his feet, he let out a maniacal laugh before it was cut short as, Jaune bashed him in the face with his shield.

Jaune thought he was going to have an easier time dealing with this pyshco since his stinger was cut shot by, Ruby. But, evidently he had gotten a prosthetic tail to replace it. That just made him all the more dangerous.

Robyn: Jaune, duck!

Jaune 's body dropped into a squat before quickly standing back up as an crossbow bolt whizzed above him. Tyrian's bladed gauntlets flew through the air as he started knocking down the various blots, Robyn sent flying at him.

Tyrian leapt over, Jaune, and charged, Robyn. Robyn's crossbow changed into a bladed shield as she started crossing blades with, Tyrian. Jaune realized as he ran up towards the pair that, Tyrian wasn't just randomly here, he was here for a reason. He was here to carry out an assassination, and Robyn was the target.

Jaune: Robyn! He's a scorpion faunas! Watch out for his stinger!

Robyn: Got it!

This was the first time, Jaune got to see, Robyn in a fight, and to put it simply; She fought just like her name sake: Like a bird. Robyn's movement were as smooth, and as majestic as a robin in flight. Her skill with her weapon was as precise as a master violinist's. And she was deadly as a hawk on the hunt. It was mesmerizing to see. Almost.

Jaune's eyes weren't looking at the beauty of, Robyn's fighting style . His eyes were only taking in her passively, his attention was solely focused on, Tyrian. And, he saw something he didn't like.

A dark violet glow enveloped, Tyrian's hand as he reached for, Robyn's side. Jaune saw what a lilac field around, Robyn's side disperse, and make a hole on her side. Jaune suddenly realized something that was very, very dangerous.

That glow around, Tyrian's hand was an active sign of him using his semblance. And, Tyrian's semblance was capable of making holes in people auras! It was the perfect semblance for a, Hunter killer.

Jaune: Robyn! Back away from him!

Robyn, jumped back before, Tyrian could land a fatal blow. Tyrian charged her, but before he could he had to dash back as, Crocea Mors came flying past him. Jaune did see this as a dangerous move; Throwing his primary weapon, and leaving him relatively defenseless. But, Robyn's death was an even worse outcome for the future of, Mantle, and Atlas.

Tyrian laughed as, Jaune's sword flew past him, and he swiftly turned on him, and jumped atop of. Jaune. This action caught, Jaune off guard; Jaune had over extended himself allowing, Tyrian to land on top of him. Luckily, Jaune still had his shield on him, but, Tyrian had him pinned to the ground.

Jaune felt his aura being pulled away by, Tyrian's semblance. Jaune quickly activated his own semblance amping up his aura, trying to cover the breach in his wall, but it was too little, too late.

Jaune: AHHH?!

Jaune felt a searing burning pain as, Tyrian's stinger dug into his shoulder, injecting him with his vile poison.

Robyn: NOOO!

Robyn yelled as she fired bolt, after bolt at, Tyrian. But, Robyn had charged in too close to, Tyrian.

Tyrian effortlessly jumped off of, Jaune's prone body, and tackled, Robyn. Pinning her to the ground as his stinger rose into the air.

Tyrian: Ah-HAHAHA! It's my lucky day! Not only do I get to kill an annoying little, Huntsman! But, also the savior of, Mantle! Ah-HAHAHAHA!!!

Robyn's eyes widened in fear as, Tyrian's stinger hanged above his head, ready to dive down, and kill her. Robyn struggled against, Tyrian, trying to free herself from his grasp, but to no avail.

Tyrian laugh maniacally assured of his victory. But, as, Jaune watched, Tyrion prepare to kill, Robyn, he remembered something, something, Pyrrha had said to him years ago, back when she was training him on the roofs of, Beacon Academy, back when things were a simpler, happier time.

Pyrrha: "Remember, Jaune, landing the final blow is when your opponent is most vulnerable."

As Tyrian Laughed in mad glee at his assured victory, his laughter was suddenly cut short as, Jaune wrapped his hands around his head, and growled into the monsters ear.

Jaune: I'm not buried yet!

"SNAP, KER-CRAK!!!"

The sound of, Tyrian's neck snapping echoed throughout the auditorium like a gun shot. It was deafening in it's brutal energy, and the sound of the dull thud as, Jaune threw, Tyrian's wretched corpse off of, Robyn.

Jaune's breath came out heavily as he stared at, Tyrian's corpse, a maniacal smile still etched across his face. Robyn looked at, Jaune with wide eyes, stunned silent as she looked about her savior.

Jaune: But, you will be, you bastard son of a bitch!

Jaune yelled this out, panting heavily as before his body gave out, and he fell down, landing on the ground with a solid thud.

Robyn: Jaune...? Jaune?!

Robyn shouted his name as she ran over to him, cupping his face in her hands as she checked him over.

Robyn: Oh no, nonononono!

The doors to the auditorium burst open as several members of the, Specialist team came rushing in.

Clover: Jaune we got your message, what hap... Jaune?!

Clover, and Harriet ran over to, Jaune while, Marrow, Vine, and Elm kept the crowd out.

Clover: What the hell happened?!

Robyn: That psycho attacked us! He stabbed, Jaune with his tail!

Harriet: What psy...?! Wait, that's, Tyrian Callows?!

Clover: He stabbed, Jaune with his tail?!

Marrow: Fuck, that means he's been poisoned!

Clover: Call for a medevac!

Vine: On it!

Clover then pushed, Robyn out of the way as he looked down at, Jaune ever growing pale face.

Clover: Jaune! Jaune answer me!

He couldn't answer him, his voice had left him.

Clover: Jaune! Look at me! Look at me!

His couldn't look at him, his vision was getting blurry.

Clover: Jaune stay with me! Stay with me, Jaune!

He couldn't stay, he was leaving him.

Winter: JAUNE?!

His world faded into the darkness.

[pars-ley]

my love!!!! lexi here hehe i would love fluff #6 and smut #26 with jungkook 💗💖🩷💞

Title: Plain and Simple

Pairing: Jungkook X female reader

Summary: When Jungkook confessed, you had frozen with fear but now you were ready to show him exactly how you feel.

Genre: friends to lovers / uni friends / drabble / smut / fluff / 

Rating: 18+ (nsfw)

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before we tap it guys, please for the love of god) / creampie / clit play / explicit language / slightly public sex (in a locked locker room)

Word count: 1.2k

Banner: Me

Beta: @lo1k-diamonds

Author's notes: thank you Lexi for this request! I loved it, I hope you enjoy! If you would like to send a request, you can find the prompt game here

You are done. 

Done watching her flirt with him in front of you.

Done pretending you feel less for him than you do.

It’s your stubbornness that got you here in the first place. When Jungkook had confessed to you, beautifully expressing his feelings, you had turned into nothing more than statuesque fear. Not ready to admit your own affections, afraid of what it might mean for your friendship. 

Now as you stand here with Rose pawing at him outside the locker rooms, a fire erupts inside you, melting most of your previous fear away. While his hair’s still wet from his shower after running track, the sight calling to you in more ways than one, her ridiculous fake laughter echoes through the halls, and your feet are moving towards them on their own.

You stride down the corridor with a swish of your hips and a flick of your hair, emitting a confidence you don't entirely feel.

He notices you instantly, eyes darting between you and her, seemingly unsure what to do.

“Hey, Jungkook, I need to talk to you,” you say, completely ignoring her presence next to you.

He hesitates briefly, but when he steps forward in your direction, she grabs his arm.

“We were in the middle of a conversation.” She says, side-eyeing you, clearly just as irritated by your presence as you are about hers.

“I'm so sorry,” you start sarcastically, “this is urgent but I'll bring him right back, ok?”

You don't wait for an answer as you hook your arm through his and lead him away.

He doesn't say a word until you guide him into one of the locker rooms.

“Listen, if it's about what I said last week, don't stress about it-” 

You cut him off by calling out to ensure you're alone, and when only silence greets you, you turn to face him.

“Let's just pretend it didn't happen, ok?” he says quickly, avoiding your eyes completely,  “We're good, I promise.”

Your stomach sinks. You didn't want to pretend, you wanted him.

“No.” Your voice comes out harsher than you intend, an attempt at concealing your nerves.

His eyebrows shoot up as his eyes flit between yours, searching for answers. “W-what do you mean?”

You take a few steps towards him, until there's only a whisper of space between you. “I mean, I don't want to forget it, or ignore it, I want to address it.”

His cheeks flush as his gaze dips to his feet, avoiding you. 

“Starting with,” you continue, hooking a finger under his chin and forcing his eyes back to you, “I should have responded better and I'm sorry that I didn't say anything. I was scared.”

Frowning, he asks, “Scared? Why would you be scared?”

“Because telling someone you're in love with them is terrifying, especially your best friend.”

His eyes pop and he opens his mouth to speak but only empty air exits, making you smile.

“But, I'm not afraid anymore.” You respond, your voice no more than a whisper as the silence in the room seems to engulf you both, “I want to be yours and I want you to be mine.”

His face lights up, “You have my whole damn heart, take it, it's yours.”

Reaching up swiftly, your lips crash against his, moving with a desperate pace, exploring his mouth eagerly as his arms wind around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You only break away when your heart is pounding in your ears and you're gasping for breath.

“I need you, right here, right now. I can't deny it anymore,” you whisper, voice laced with lust.

He looks at you for a moment, searching your eyes for sincerity. When he finds it, he wastes no time in spinning you, pressing you firmly against the door. 

His hands roam over the curves of your body, sending feral need straight to your core, making it throb painfully.

His hands travel down to the back of your knees and hook your legs out from under you, making you gasp with surprise. You wrap them around his waist, squeezing tightly as he carries you across the room and lays you down on one of the benches. The wood digs into your back uncomfortably but it only adds to your arousal. The pleasure with an element of pain.

As he kneels at the end of the wood, you grapple at the waistband of his trousers, moving so fast your fingers fumble with the button. He helps you, pushing down his jeans and boxers and lifting your dress so it fans across your chest. 

Pulling your underwear aside, his fingers skate teasingly through your folds, spreading your arousal, while he watches in awe, biting his bottom lip. Lining up to your entrance, he pauses to look up at you with a questioning gaze.

You nod, “Please.” You beg.

He slides slowly inside you, releasing a sinful moan that has you clenching around him. He jolts and smiles down at you.

“I've thought about this moment so many times.” He says breathlessly.

“Make me yours, Jungkook.”

He gives you a devilish grin, his eyes lighting up, as he starts to move, thrusting his hips slowly up into you. Everytime he glides smoothly inside you, he massages that sweet spot, making your toes curl. Your legs around him squeeze, forcing him further inside you, stretching you deliciously, and making you gasp. 

The sound of the wooden bench creaking under you only excites you more when thinking about the reality of where you're doing this.

He feels so good inside you, the way his hands have fallen to your hips, holding you in place and the heavy concentration etched into his furrowed brow, as he observes your reactions to his movements.

The faster you breathe and the louder your moans become, the more he continues his mission to claim you. He presses his thumb lightly on your clit, using your arousal to massage gentle circles, so feather light it makes you want to scream. But your greedy core clenches around him, desperate for release now.

“Kookie,” you whine.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” He reaches down, using one hand to stroke your face.

“Harder,” you pant.

He obeys, ramming into you while still continuing the ministrations on your sensitive bud. A tight knot forms low down in your stomach as a flush of heat spreads through your body like wildfire. 

“You gonna come for me, baby?” He says soothingly and it's all you need to unravel around him. 

The groans that escape him as your cunt spasms around his dick sound like music to your ears.

“Fuck, you feel-” he cuts himself off, as your orgasm milks him to his end, feeling his warm seed spill into you. 

When he stops moving, he slowly lowers himself and kisses you gently, lovingly, before slipping out of you. Covering your crotch with your underwear once more and pulling up his trousers and boxers, he then pulls you up to stand, wrapping his arms around you in an intimate embrace. 

Stroking your hair and kissing your forehead, he asks,“Do you…want to come back to my dorm?” There's a nervousness in his voice you instantly recognise.

Looking up into his wide, apprehensive eyes you can't help but chastise yourself for delaying your confession. 

“Yes,” you reply, tiptoeing up to kiss him and relishing in the way he smiles against your mouth as he pulls you closer. 

Jungkook has always, wholeheartedly, been yours. 

[fallstheking]

loser!ellie college headcanons

ellie has a crush // pt 1 of ?

mdni

contains ; nothing but her being so down bad and having no game

• loser!ellie who expected to finish college as the only girl on the hockey team to never score (and she didn't mean points- she scored those.) (sometimes.)

• loser!ellie who first saw you in at a party that the hockey team dragged her to and abigail fucking anderson started talking about you and was about to go make a move and ellie freaked the fuck out and purposely spilled her drink on you just so she could pull you away from the crowd because oh my god you were so pretty it hurt her

• loser!ellie who you were absolutely pissed at for ruining your shirt but she smiled at you all sheepish and lopsided with those puppy dog eyes and you melted

• loser!ellie who invited you to her next game and when you showed up with her number painted on your cheek and cheered for her loud as fuck she nearly melted on the ice

• loser!ellie who got benched immediately because her head wasn't in the game

• loser!ellie who found out you worked at a campus cafe and started dragging jesse and dina all the way across campus with her every morning and was subsequently late for her first class every day

• loser!ellie who didn't realize you had written your number on her cup until she had already thrown it away and then dug it out of the trashcan in broad daylight

• loser!ellie who texted you immediately with a meme like this and completely forgot to say who she was (you knew)

• loser!ellie who thought you hated her because you just responded 'lmao' and proceeded to have an actual crisis over it

• loser!ellie who got a text from you four hours later that was a lot less dry and she realized oh you were probably just busy

• loser!ellie who found out you liked music and then did absolutely everything in her power to figure out what music you liked so she could learn it on guitar

• loser!ellie who lowk stalked you on instagram for weeks but waited for you to follow her first so she wouldn't seem like a weirdo

• loser!ellie who then immediately started posting memes like this on her story

• loser!ellie who oh my god oh my god you liked the stories oh my god

• loser!ellie who ahejeknjdjd you reposted them to your story ????

• loser!ellie who realized you hadn't missed a game since the first one she invited you to???

• loser!ellie who asked joel for advice lmao

so theres this girl i go to school with and

• dad!joel who laugh reacted the message (ellie would yell at her sister sarah for teaching him how to do that later)

• loser!ellie who finally got the nerve to ask you out and went into the coffee shop so confident and then saw you weren't working

hey ur not working this morning?

hi ellie !! no not today i'm sick

• loser!ellie who bought some premade soup and some peppermint tea and literally ran to your place (she has a car??)

• loser!ellie who asked you out while you were dying (a bit sick) of the plague (a cold) and it was her last chance (you would be back at work in 2 days) to profess her undying love (huge crush) on the fair maiden (cute barista) before her

• loser!ellie who short circuited when you said yes and just stared at you in unblinking silence for so long you had to call dina and jesse to come get her ass

• loser!ellie who didn't realize you had liked her back from the moment she smiled at you at that party

• loser!ellie who bragged to abby about bagging you

• loser!ellie who is never letting you go

first post completed! feels so good i hope u guys love it

[chaoticmultifandom28]

Well i mean we do see him sleeping with a woman, I actually theorize that Jaskier is bisexual but the reason why he’s not at all attracted to Yennefer is because well Jaskier has in his genes something like the Witcher locket (that lets witchers know monsters are near and magic). Like he has a literal danger sensor ingrained in his dna (but he also totally has a danger attraction curse on him that’s why he always ends up in situations) and it’s giving off all the warning bells when around Yen and that’s why he loathes her with a passion.

An add on to this headcanon is that when he’s with Geralt the sensors are silent because Geralt is his safe space and that’s why he stays with Geralt. When the mountain break up happens, it’s agony for a long time since Jaskier had gotten used to the silence. (Though it would still go off anytime they encounter Yen since she is literally the complete opposite of Geralt in Jaskier’s situation since he loathes her, but it lessens a bit when they start coming to an understanding but since Yen is still dangerous the sensors go off, just not as loudly)

Talking to my bestie about how flamboyantly gay Jaskier is and she said "Yennefer made herself the most alluring woman ever using magic but Jaskier still talks about her like she's a terrifying monster with tits. Further proof that he is NOT attracted to actual women. He doesn't actually lay women he just sings pretty poetry at them and makes them swoon" and I have to agree He likes the idea of women from a romantic poet point of view but when it comes to reality the closest he wants to a woman is a man with long hair. Looking at you Geralt!

[dolphincultleader]

Hi! Love your writing 😊 I wanted to request a vernon imagine with the jealousy prompt “You’re jealous” “Am not!” “You are jealous, and may I add, you’re a terrible liar”. Thank you 😊

Jealousy w/ Vernon

Word Count- 933

Tw- A few curses, Vernon is sort of insecure?, reader is very oblivious, suggestive towards the end, lmk if i missed anything

A/N- hello! Thanks for the ask, I really appreciate it. I tried my best and hope you like it!

---

Vernon considered himself a lucky man. He often thanked himself because what could he have possibly done in his past life to deserve someone like you?

Vernon also did not consider himself a jealous person. He trusted you. He wasn't insecure. He knew you would never cheat on him. But why the fuck does he feel a pang in his heart when you talk to a certain childhood friend for too long?

Was it because he was aware of the guy's romantic interest in you? Or was it because you were laughing loudly at the guy's words, blissfully unaware of his true intentions?

He didn't know what he should do. Was he just being overly jealous? Fuck, why is love so hard? Should he go join the conversation?

You were unaware of a panicked Vernon standing behind you, contemplating his life. You noticed him standing afar after what felt like an eternity to Vernon. You waved at him and gestured him to come over there while shooting him your stupidly cute smile.

As he stalled over to where you and your friend sat, he contemplated how to join the conversation. Suddenly, he felt underdressed. Why the fuck is the guy dressed so well? Even you wore a white pretty dress. His usual T-shirt and pants made him feel like a fish out of water.

You, being oblivious, introduced them to each other. As Vernon shook the guy's hand, his nervousness didn't go away, nor did it made things easier for him. Why the fuck were his hands sweaty?

As you buzzed and talked with your friend, he felt himself panicking internally. Was he even making a good impression? He chimed in the conversation every now and then to not be rude. You both included him in the conversation.

But Vernon couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed at how loudly you laughed at the guy's jokes. Wasn't that laugh reserved for him? And the guy's innuendos didn't go unnoticed by him. The lingering touches on your wrist or staring at your eyes for a bit too long. You however, were completely unaware, thinking Vernon was being included.

After an eternity (Vernon's words), you bid goodbye to your friend. Vernon smiled in politeness. The smile was all he could manage was fighting off the urge to tell the guy to back off several times mid convo.

As you and Vernon walked out of the Cafe, his hand leisurely resting on your waist, you couldn't help but notice his unusual silence. Sure, Vernon usually played the role of a "listener" in your relationship, but he he wasn't this quiet.

He held the passenger seat's door open as you got in. Getting in the driver's seat, he started driving. You stared at him as he drove, eyes focused on the road. Your stares didn't go unnoticed by him. He broke the somewhat awkward silence of you staring at him.

"Love?"

"Just wanted to make sure you didn't go mute suddenly" you shoot.

He chuckled at that and hummed as acknowledgement. You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Spit it out." You ordered in a stern voice.

"Feeling bold, are we?" He asked jokingly. Hearing the tone he usually uses when you play brat from your own mouth was...new. It also made his dick twitch in his pants very quick.

"Hey, seriously. Whats up?" You asked, this time softer and more seriously.

"Your friend was nice..." he started. Not knowing how to navigate this conversation. After all, he has never considered himself a jealous person. Would you think he's insecure? Doubt crept up to his mind as he tried to push it back.

"Okay...?" You were confused by the change of topic.

"Maybe... a bit too nice..." he went on. You laughed suddenly making him give you a side eye.

"You're jealous!" You said mid laugh.

"Am not!" He felt heat creeping up to his cheeks at your words.

"You are jealous, and may I add, a terrible liar." You continued. He pursed his lips together, muttering a quiet shut up with no malice whatsoever.

"It's ridiculous! He was embarrassingly over you! As if he had a chance with you, even while I was literally sitting there!" He rambled on as you laughed. Apparently the situation was fucking hilarious to you. He felt so silly suddenly.

"What do you think? You countered, finally calming yourself down.

"What?"

"Do you think he has a chance with me?"

He stayed silent for way too long. It worried you. Did he really think he meant that low to you? After a few minutes of driving in silence, he replied.

"I... honestly don't know..." his voice was laced with hesitation. That needed to be changed.

"Do you want me to stay?" You asked as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex.

"Yeah...?" He replied, clearly confused.

"Then you better make me stay." You said, a smirk plastered on your face. Clearly reading between the lines, he rolled his eyes.

"And what exactly can I do to make that happen?" Killing the engine, he turned his body towards you as he asked, clearly being sarcastic. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. Your eyes burned into each others'.

"Why don't you start by showing me how much you want me to stay?"

"So you want me to fuck the living daylight out of you and make you scream my name till thats the only thing you know?" He countered.

"Why don't you start with kissing me, pretty boy?" You teased.

"Patience sweetheart, you have a long night ahead of you"

---

Masterlist



[moomuzan]

„hurt.“ chuuya & dazai

( heavy ) trauma request

You had always been the quiet constant in Chuuya’s tempestuous life. As children, he was the fire, fierce and unyielding, while you were the calm, the soft-spoken echo of his better nature. Together, you ran through sunlit fields and laughed beneath skies bruised with twilight. Where he was brash and sharp, you were steady, your gentle touch softening his edges, your presence grounding him when his anger threatened to consume him whole. You knew him as no one else did—the boy behind the fury, the tenderness buried beneath the fire. And he had loved you for it, fiercely, protectively, in the only way a boy like Chuuya could love.

However, love had no place in the world he had fallen into.

One day, he disappeared, swallowed whole by the underworld: The Port Mafia. No warnings, no farewells—just an empty space where he once stood. When he came back, he wasn’t quite the same. His edges were sharper, his silences heavier, but his smile—though rare—was still yours. He never explained where he went, and you never asked. The unspoken trust between you was enough. You thought, foolishly, that as long as he still came back to you, you would be safe from the shadows that clung to him.

Oh, you were wrong.

The head of the mafia had watched Chuuya for months, calculating, waiting. He saw what others couldn’t: that beneath the prodigious power, beneath the unyielding defiance, there was a vulnerability he could twist. You.

You were an anomaly to Mori—neither threat nor ally, yet something far more dangerous: an anchor. A tether that kept Chuuya’s humanity intact. He hated that about you. He hated the way you made Chuuya hesitate, the way your existence kept him from sinking fully into the darkness Mori needed him to embrace.

Cruel in its precision Mori devised his plan. Killing you outright would have been too simple, too kind. No, he wanted to break you, to reduce you to a ruin so complete that Chuuya would have no choice but to sever the bond himself—or drown in the guilt of failing to protect you.

The mafia’s hitmen descended like wolves. They took you in the dead of night, tearing you from the life you had built with no warning, no mercy. And then, for six endless months, they unmade you.

They didn’t just hurt you—they dismantled you piece by piece, until even the memory of who you once were became a cruel mockery. Pain was their tool, but fear was their art. They laughed as they broke your bones, as they whispered lies into your ear, planting seeds of doubt and shame.

“You’re holding him back,” they told you. “You make him weaker. Do you really think someone like you deserves someone like him?”

Slowly, quietly you began to believe them. How could you not, when every breath felt like a curse, when every bruise screamed that you were nothing but a burden? By the time they let you go, you were a ghost wearing the skin of a person.

When Chuuya found you on your doorstep, soaked and trembling in the rain, something inside him shattered. You didn’t speak; you just stood there, silent and brittle, like a leaf ready to crumble beneath the slightest touch. He rushed to you, his voice raw, but you didn’t meet his gaze.

The days that followed were worse. You flinched at his presence, avoided his touch, apologized for things you didn’t do. You shook at loud noises, stared out windows for hours, and cried when you thought he wasn’t looking.

As you were breaking, Chuuya not knowing why, he tried to be patient, to coax the truth from you gently, but every attempt only seemed to push you further away. The trust that once bound you felt frayed, worn thin by the weight of everything you couldn’t say. And yet, he stayed. He stayed because he loved you. He stayed because he thought he could fix this. Fix you.

Still, the truth was like a blade waiting in the shadows, and when it finally found him, it gutted him.

On a regular working day, the mafia executive found the folder laying open on Mori’s desk, its contents laid bare like a confession. Chuuya’s name was written at the top, and beneath it, yours. The words were clinical, detached, but the meaning was unmistakable:

The target was you, the objective: Psychological dismantling, the duration: Six months, the outcome: Permanent estrangement or termination.

As he read his hands trembled. Each word was a hammer blow, each detail a new weight pressing down on his chest. He saw photographs, grainy and brutal, of your battered body, your haunted eyes. He read descriptions of the things they had done to you, the lies they had fed you. And then he saw Mori’s justification, scrawled in neat, calculated handwriting:

“A necessary sacrifice to refine him into the weapon we need.”

Staggering back, his breath came in short, uneven bursts. His vision blurred, and for a moment, Chuuya thought he might be sick.

It wasn’t just that Mori had done this. It was that Mori had done this because of him.

When Chuuya returned to you that night, he couldn’t meet your eyes. He couldn’t even bring himself to speak. The guilt was a noose around his neck, tightening with every second he spent in your presence.

You sat at the window, your silhouette bathed in moonlight, and he thought, fleetingly, of how beautiful you always had been. The person you were before all of this—the person he had failed to protect—felt like a ghost now, as unreachable as the stars.

“Chuuya?” you murmured, your voice soft, hesitant.

He flinched.

Turning to look at him, your hollow gaze pierced in its quiet resignation. “What’s wrong?”

Abruptly, the words caught in his throat. How could he tell you? How could he explain that the person you trusted most in the world had been the reason for your suffering? That his loyalty to the Mafia had cost you everything?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered finally, his voice breaking. It was all he could manage, and it felt so inadequate, so small compared to the enormity of what he had done.

You stared at him for a long moment, and he thought—hoped—you might ask him why. But you didn’t. You just nodded, as if you had been expecting this all along.

“It’s not your fault,” you said softly, though your tone carried none of the conviction the words demanded.

But it was his fault. He knew that now. And no amount of apologies, no amount of vengeance, could ever make it right.

Chuuya spent the rest of the night sitting silently across from you, watching as the moonlight painted you in shades of silver and sorrow. The room was quiet, save for the sound of your unsteady breathing, and he wondered—not for the first time—if he had already lost you.

He wanted to promise you a better future, to swear that he would never let anything hurt you again. But the words wouldn’t come. They felt hollow, meaningless. How could he promise to protect you when he hadn’t before?

And so, he said nothing.

When morning came, he found the window open, the curtains fluttering in the breeze.

You were gone.

You were Dazai’s quiet rebellion, his one thread of light in a world cloaked in the suffocating weight of death and betrayal. In the darkness of his life, where every relationship was poisoned by fear or manipulation, you were something else entirely—a fleeting, fragile piece of humanity he allowed himself to hold, even though he knew it would crumble in his hands. He had no right to you, not with his bloodied past and the pit of emptiness that gnawed at his soul, but he kept you anyway. You were his secret, his sin, his sanctuary.

Beautifully so the only place where he could shed the mask he wore so well was your apartment. Here, he was not the calculating executive of the Port Mafia, nor the puppet Mori dangled on a string. With you, he wasn’t a monster. He was only a man. In your arms, there were no bodies to bury, no orders to carry out, no wounds that wouldn’t heal. There was only the warmth of your skin, the rhythm of your laughter, and the quiet, unspoken understanding between two souls who found something sacred in one another.

But what is sacred to the damned if not a curse waiting to unfold?

Mori discovered the truth in the way he always did—effortlessly, as though he had known all along. He never raged, never raised his voice, because cruelty came more naturally to him when spoken softly, like a poison seeping into the blood. Dazai sat across from him, his posture unflinching, yet the photograph Mori slid across the desk felt like a bullet to the chest.

It was you, caught mid-laugh on some sunlit afternoon, the world frozen in the simplicity of your joy. The photograph was so achingly innocent it almost hurt to look at.

“She’s lovely,” Mori said, his voice devoid of warmth, the words like a scalpel peeling back the skin. “Lovely, and yet so very vulnerable. I wonder how she’d look after a few weeks in one of our facilities. Do you think she’d still laugh like that, Dazai?”

Dazai’s expression didn’t shift, not even by a fraction. The empty smile on his lips didn’t falter. He was too good at this game, too accustomed to hiding the storm inside him.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he replied, his voice light, a perfect mimicry of detachment.

But his boss didn’t need to push further. The faint, fleeting tension in Dazai’s jaw, the almost imperceptible tightening of his hands against his thighs, was enough. Mori leaned back in his chair, folding his fingers together as though they were already pulling the strings of some unseen marionette.

“You’ll take care of it,” Mori said, his voice smooth, unrelenting. “Tie up your loose ends. You know how this works, Dazai. A distraction like her is dangerous, not just for you, but for all of us. And if you don’t… well, I’m afraid someone else will have to.”

The meaning in those words was clear, sharp as glass pressed to the skin. This was not a choice. Not for Dazai. Not for you.

The night Dazai came for you, it was raining—a steady, unrelenting downpour that soaked through the fabric of his coat and muffled the sounds of his boots against the pavement. You had no warning, no time to prepare for the sudden shadow in your doorway, the sharp, unfamiliar grip of his hands around your wrists.

Calling his name, your voice broke with confusion, with fear, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t look at you, didn’t even flinch as he forced the blindfold over your eyes and led you out into the storm.

Of course, you struggled at first, begging him to explain, to tell you what was happening. But the silence between you was thick, impenetrable, and eventually, the fight drained out of you. You didn’t understand how this could be happening—how the same hands that once traced patterns of love on your skin could now be the ones binding you in chains.

And Dazai, walking just steps behind you, wondered the same thing.

The room he brought you to was bare, its walls stripped of color, the air heavy with cold. There was no light save for the faint glow of a single bulb overhead, its flickering hum filling the silence. Dazai avoided your gaze as he shackled your wrists and ankles, his movements quick, mechanical, as though speeding through the motions would make them hurt less.

Out of terror, you didn’t fight him anymore. Only watching him, tears streaking down your face, your voice trembling as you whispered the only question you could find the strength to ask.

“Why?”

For a moment, he hesitated. His hands froze where they hovered over the lock of your chains, and for a fleeting second, something in his expression cracked—something raw and ugly and human.

But then it was gone.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to,” he said, his voice empty, hollow. He didn’t even meet your eyes.

Upon the first time he hurt you, it felt as though the world itself cracked open. His hands trembled as he pressed the blade to your skin, his breath shallow, unsteady, as though each motion might tear him apart. He tried to make it quick, tried to make it as painless as possible. But the moment you cried out, the sound filled the room like a haunting melody, and he thought he might vomit.

Dazai told himself it was better this way. Better to do it himself than to let Mori send someone else—someone who would revel in the cruelty, who would drag it out for their own amusement. At least this way, you would survive. At least this way, the monster who hurt you would be one who cared.

Still, no matter how many times he repeated those words in his mind, they rang hollow.

Weeks blurred into a haze of pain, fear, and silence. The mafia executive played his role perfectly, his touch cruel and calculated, his words cold and biting. And yet, when he left you alone in the darkness, he felt the weight of your suffering like a noose tightening around his neck.

He watched you unravel piece by piece.

The trembling of your hands, the quiet, haunted look in your eyes, the way your voice cracked when you spoke his name—it all carved itself into his mind like a scar that would never fade. And yet, somehow, what hurt most wasn’t your pain.

It was your forgiveness.

Back then, when you could barely sit upright from the exhaustion of it all, you looked at him with those broken, tear-streaked eyes and whispered the words that shattered him completely.

“I forgive you.”

His hands froze where they hovered over your wounds, the bloodied bandages slipping through his fingers and falling to the floor. He stared at you, his expression unreadable, his breath shallow and uneven.

“Don’t,” he said finally, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Tilting your head, your voice was so soft it was almost drowned out by the silence. “Why not?”

“Because forgiveness doesn’t erase the things I’ve done,” he replied, his words sharp, bitter. “It doesn’t bring back the person you were before I broke you. It doesn’t make me less of a monster.”

You didn’t look away, didn’t flinch at the venom in his tone. “Maybe it doesn’t,” you said. “But it’s the only thing I have left to give.”

The executive hated you for it. Hated the way you could still look at him as though he wasn’t the one who had ruined you, hated the way your voice carried a quiet, stubborn love that refused to die. But most of all, he hated himself—for letting Mori use you as a weapon, for dragging you into the pit he had lived in for so long, for needing you in a way that was so deeply, desperately selfish.

Because that’s what it was. Selfishness.

It was only natural that Dazai wanted you to hate him, to scream at him, to tell him he was irredeemable, because at least then it would feel deserved. But you didn’t. You only stayed, tethered to him by chains he had forged himself.

And in his weakest moments, he wondered if he might cling to you forever, even as you both drowned.

ANON I THINK I TURNED INSANE WRITING THIS. i don’t know if it’s good? i‘m so conflicted i almost wanted to give up. but here it is anyway. if you have anything else in mind just message me, i‘ll be happy to edit this

[insidekatmind]

Meet my sister P.19-Jude Bellingham

plot: Federico Valverde wants to introduce his younger sister to Jude, his teammate. He hoped that something romantic would be born between them seeing that their characters were perfect together but things take a different turn

You stayed lying in bed, wrapped in each other's arms, without needing words. The atmosphere was calm, almost magical, with only your breaths filling the silence of the room. Jude, with a soft smile on his lips, gently pulled back the blanket and placed his hand on your stomach. His movements were tender, almost as if he were already protecting the little miracle growing inside of you.

"I still can't believe it," he whispered softly, almost in awe. "In nine months, I'll be a dad."

His words melted you. You looked at him as his smile widened, full of love and wonder. With his hand on your stomach, he started making small circles, as though he were already caressing the baby you couldn't yet see.

"Are you happy?" you asked, your voice slightly trembling, afraid of what he might say, even though his smile already spoke volumes.

"Happy?" Jude raised his eyes to meet yours, his eyes sparkling with emotion. "I'm more than happy. I'm... complete. It's like everything finally makes sense." He paused, lowering his gaze back to your stomach. "And you? How do you feel?"

You smiled, letting yourself fully embrace the moment of pure sweetness. "Scared, but also... incredibly happy. And knowing you're here with me makes everything less scary."

Jude leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead, then looked back into your eyes. "You’ll never be alone, I promise you. No matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you and for our baby."

His words brought tears to your eyes, but they were tears of joy. You snuggled even closer into his arms, feeling his heartbeat against yours. Jude never stopped caressing your stomach, as if he was already forming a bond with the little life that had just begun to exist. And as the sun set outside the window, you knew that your journey together was just beginning.

You both stared at each other for a long time, in silence, as if the moment was suspended in time. Jude's hands were still on your stomach, but his eyes, full of love, never left your face. Then, without thinking much about it, you kissed. A sweet kiss at first, but soon it became more passionate, filled with all the love you were discovering together, knowing that everything was changing.

But just as your bodies grew closer, the door suddenly opened. Federico stood there, with an almost impassive look, though his surprise at seeing you two so close couldn’t be hidden. Without saying a word, he turned and said, "There's someone at the door who wants to see you."

You reluctantly pulled away from Jude and looked at Federico, wondering who it could be. "Who is it?" you asked, curiosity in your voice, but Federico didn’t answer.

A bit confused, you decided to get up from the bed. You approached Jude for one last, sweet kiss before following him. The thought of interrupting that moment with him made you feel a bit sad, but curiosity was too strong. Federico, in the meantime, didn’t say another word and seemed quieter than usual as he guided you downstairs.

Your heart was beating fast, both for the meeting waiting at the door and for the idea of leaving the warmth of Jude's arms. But something in the air felt off, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was.

---

When you approached the door and saw who was there, your heart skipped a beat. It was Jason. The guy you once loved, but who had hurt you more than you ever thought possible. You looked at him with a mix of anger and sadness, remembering every moment of your year-long relationship, until the moment he betrayed you, and you decided to return to Madrid, seeking comfort in your brother Federico.

Jason looked at you with a kicked-puppy expression, trying to seem remorseful, but you couldn’t forgive him. Every word you had exchanged before your return to Madrid still haunted you. And now, here he was, standing at your door, looking at you as if nothing had happened, as if he had never broken something precious.

At that moment, the stairs creaked, and Jude appeared, walking down with purpose. His expression immediately changed when he saw Jason at the door. Without saying a word, he approached you, wrapping an arm protectively around your shoulders. His gaze turned cold and full of challenge, as if making it clear to Jason that you were now under his protection.

Federico, who had been watching everything closely, observed you first, then Jason, and finally Jude, trying to decide whether he should intervene. The atmosphere was tense, and the air felt heavy with unsaid words. Jason was still trying to figure out if he could get closer or if he should walk away. But the moment his eyes met Jude's, he realized this was a different game, a new chapter, and perhaps, for the first time, he was no longer the protagonist in your life.

[kitnjon]

Do you have any modern au fic recommendations where Jon and Sansa meet again after breaking up? Preferably nothing that includes infertility (those were the only ones I could find)

Yes!!! Some fics set after their breakup/divorce:

halcyon by @wandering-scavenger

“Is that a lightsaber?” Margaery asked Robb, attention fully on him as she reached out to touch the hilt strapped to his waist. If Theon’s hopes of hooking up with her hadn’t already flown out the window, it certainly did now. Robb cleared his throat, careful to maintain eye contact instead of staring at her breasts like the rest of the guys that walked past them to stop and stare. “Erm. Yeah. I borrowed it from my brother, Bran.” he managed to say, removing it from his belt to let Sansa’s friend hold it herself. The heiress weighed it in her hand and twisted it around like a baton before finally switching it on; the saber made its distinctive hum as it extended, glowing bright blue under the club’s red lights. “It’s bigger than I expected.” she remarked, tilting her head innocently. Jon choked on his drink then, his laughing eyes meeting Sansa’s own in a moment of shared understanding. She couldn’t count how many times they had shared that look with one another before she ruined things. Before he stopped being hers.

2. red lights mean you're leaving by @cellsshapedlikestars

"Did you need something?” he asks when she doesn't speak, and it feels like a slap in the face, though she knows it shouldn't. She showed up at his door with no warning, after five years of silence. He has every reason to be skeptical. “Your help, actually,”

3. You tend the ash, and I’ll tend the pine by @eruherdiriel

“Are we really never gonna talk about it?” Arya snaps. “We’re all gonna pretend everything is normal and happy when Sansa just got divorced?” “Statistically, it is normal,” Bran says. “The divorce rate is something like—” “It’s not normal! Not for this family, and not for Sansa. True love, forever and always, that’s Sansa.” “Jon isn’t the person she married,” Catelyn chides. “Not anymore.” — Sansa and Jon get divorced, but fully untangling their lives is impossible.

4. snow angels by @kingsansa

He finds, as the hairs on the back of his neck rise, as his heart completely fucking nosedives, that her voice is lower than he remembers, but unmistakable all of the same. Sansa Stark stands in the hallway of his shitty, hole-in-the-wall, egregiously outdated bar; unmistakable.

5. in good faith by @kingsansa

Her hand is a dancer on his back: light, graceful, and bold. “Mr. Targaryen.” She’s always been soft spoken, just a tiny hairbreadth away from shy, words inflected with a polite sort of girlish tentativeness. It isn’t, anymore. Jon doesn’t want to turn around. He doesn’t want to see what else has changed about her. “Miss Stark.” It feels wrong for them to refer to each other so formally. He doesn’t know why. They’re little more than strangers now if they had ever been anything else.

6. frozen pines by @cellsshapedlikestars

It hits Jon, then - the sharp smell of ozone. A scent that years ago, he’d become all too familiar with. The aftermath of a lightning strike, the burning of wires. Electricity heavy in the air. The hair on his arms still stands on end. The scar on his hand feels tight. His heart is still pounding. It’s just a storm coming, he tells himself. He’s in White Harbor, not Eastwatch. It’s just a storm. or, the Exclusion Zone spreads for the first time in almost fifty years, with Sansa trapped inside. Jon will do whatever it takes to get her out.

7. Beans series by @justadram

Jon and Sansa never seem to be on the same page about their relationship.

8. Hammerfall by @kittykatknits

Jon and Sansa are busy with their lives in Winterfell and White Harbor, unaware of the danger that would soon be upon them. Then, one day, Jon's friend Sam issues a terrible warning, leading him and his best friend, Robb to begin quietly making plans. As the day of Hammerfall grows closer, they are left with one problem, Sansa refuses to come home. With time running out, Jon goes to rescue Sansa before it is too late. In the horror that follows, Jon and Sansa realize that surviving Hammerfall was the easy part. It's the day after when the real work begins.

9. and now i see daylight by @theshipshipper

Sansa Stark is among the most notable celebrities in Westerosi mainstream cinema. When an ex-boyfriend smears her reputation with lies and deceit, she finds herself back in Winterfell and in the arms of her former lover, Jon Snow.

10. baby, it's you by @kit-kat21

“Sansa, please,” Jon had pled with her, grasping her hands. “I’ll tell Robb. I promise you.”

Sansa had shaken her head, pulling her hands from his and cursing the tears that had insisted on building up in her eyes despite her best efforts. “You won’t.” She said it in a whisper, but her words were strong. “I know that now.”

***

Sansa has only been in love one time during her life, but that's in the past and now, she's trying to start over - getting over a relationship that left her broken on the inside and out while trying to give her young son the best life possible. She doesn't have time to dwell on Jon Snow and pine after him. She's been over him for years now. Completely over him.

[obito-in-disguise]

You know the trend ‘you might think im crazy.’ And then the girlfriend fake pounces at their partner can you do that with the hashira?? 😂😂

Not gonna lie, I had to look this one up pimp 😔I need to go back to being on tiktok 12 hours of the day, no more productive hobbies✊🏽no more productive hobbies✊🏽

Let's get right into it!

| You might think I'm crazy trend with the hashiras |

Featuring; Shinazugawa Sanemi, Tomioka Giyuu, Iguro Obanai, Uzui Tengen, Gyomei Himejima, and Kyojuro Rengoku.

Shinazugawa Sanemi

Sanemi would get startled and smack you. The whole thing would blow up into a huge fight, not physical of course.

"It was a reflex, what were you expecting!"

"For you not to Floyd Mayweather my ass like a normal person!"

"I'm sorry!"

He would end up having to cuddle you throughout the rest of the evening as an apology. Holding ice to the spot where he smacked with a bit of guilt.

"No more stupid pranks ok?"

Tomioka Giyuu

Giyuu would full on flinch. Arms waving around and trying to protect his face simultaneously, eyes squeezed shut.

Afterwards you would both stare at each other with wide eyes, the room in complete silence.

His expression would slowly morph into one of anger, his usual scowl more intense, his ears flushed with embarrassment. He can't believe he let his guard down around you and this is what he gets, he makes a mental note to give you the silent treatment for the next hour as punishment.

"Oh my gosh yuu, I'm so s-"

"Delete that, now."

Iguro Obanai

Obanai 🤝🏽Giyuu 🤝🏽Flinching

Obanai would jerk back, eyes wide, clutching his pearls. He looks at you in amazement as you basically die of laughter, collapsing to the floor.

He wasn't necessarily scared but definitely worried for your sanity.

"...You are crazy"

"Omg you should've seen your face!"

Uzui Tengen

He would just grin and grab your hands. No flinching in sight whatsoever.

"boo you're no fun..."

"Yeah it's so lame that i don't flinch when you pretend to hit me. You must be the worst..."

Gyomei Himejima

Gyomei quite literally wouldn't see you coming. He'd just sit there, innocently waiting for you to do whatever you said you needed him for.

You feel terrible, setting your baby up for something like that, so you'd shut the whole thing down and give him a hug.

"What's wrong flower..."

"I'm sorry Gyo, I was gonna hit you..."

"what..."

Kyojuro Rengoku

He would just smile and tilt his head in confusion, no flinch in sight, not even a blink.

yeesh

You'd shiver a little, your man was a little unsettling.

"That's creepy Kyo..."

He'd just laugh loudly "I like this game! let's go again"

Brb, on my way to kidnap Gyomei and keep him in my pocket forever.

Enjoyed the story? check out more of my other Demon slayer fics and more stories! Requests are open! and don't forget to like, reblog or leave a comment pookie♡

[patheticpeoplesupreme]

Au where SQH messes up a little too much during their head disciple days and System punishes him not with death, but by ripping him of his personality and memories, leaving him a husk of his former self. For years, the mountain has tried to fix him but to no avail, Mobei—Jun kidnapped him and forced his underlings to fix SQH but

Nothing worked. Eventually, An Ding Peak worked without a Peak Lord, and they all mourned for SQH’s technical death/disappearance.

When SY appeared as a disciple of SQQ and helped to fix his relationships with everyone, aka SQQ and LQG become bffs, YQY reconciles with SQQ

And SQQ started to treat LBH better, he still calls him little beast though, but anyway,

Despite that, the cliff scene still happens because the system wants tragedy, and now SY stresses out alone for the next few years, vaguely remembering the plant body

The plot still continues, meanwhile while they’re both dead for a while, when the peak lords found out SQH’s body was in Mobei—Jun’s palace, they tried for years to get both SQH’s and SQQ’s body

And more of the plot happens

And eventually, SY and LBH get together and there’s a happy ending for them, until SY remembers that he’s never once seen the An Ding peak lord,

He’d felt unnerved when MBJ was the one who invaded instead of the rhino, but he didn’t have time to question it

He asks YQY about which leads him to asking LBH to asking MBJ if he would let SY to talk to SQH’s body. MBJ only lets him go inside because LBH mentioned how knowledgeable SY was about various things.

MBJ protectively stays in the room, LBH stays to protect SY

—

“Shang Qinghua?” He says aloud, staring at the traitor spy cautiously. He didn’t really understand why MBJ was protective of the man, though he supposed it’s because SQH couldn’t have betrayed him in this timeline if he was just a husk.

Still, he wondered, what changed? Why had SQH lost his soul? Was it like… Him? Was the system preparing for another transmigrator? But YQY said that he’d been in a sort f a coma for years! Why would the system wait this long?

Suddenly, the system beeped

[Would User 02 like to free User 01 from his punishment?]

!!!

User 01?? What!? System!??? You can’t use spring that up on him without context??!?

[Would User 02 like context?]

YES PLEASE??

[User 01 transmigrated here as a baby! Unfortunately, User 01 lost too many points! Too much OOC! So the System has inflicted punishment on User 01!]

This is… so severe! Shen Yuan frowned and kneeled down to his level. His heart churned for the former user, he didn’t think there could have been such a severe punishment.

“Who was he…?” He murmured, not noticing that the two demons in the room was heard. MBJ restrained himself from responding, it hurt to remember the small little human that vowed to follow him for all his like.

[User 01’s USER ID is Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky!]

“…”

“You..” MBJ gritted out after a long silence of SY staring at the body, it was getting irritating. It also unnerved him. He wasn’t doing anything, but he seemed to reach a level of understanding that no one else could.

Still, LBH gave him a look, even if he was also doubting SY’s actions a little, “Have patience.”

This time, SY took care to say it in his head.

‘Can’t you free him from his punishment?? It’s been years! The plot is practically over now! Just—! He doesn’t deserve this suffering!’

[The System thought User 02 hated User 01 for writing Proud Immortal Demon Way OwO]

‘That doesn’t mean I want him to live as a husk of his former self! He had a life! The peak lords never described him as a bad person! What would it take for you to give his life back!?]

[Hm…]

What do you mean HMM?!?!?

[Analysing.]

[Analysing.]

[Analysing.]

[Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Good things must be said three times! Due to User 02 managing to complete the plot, the System will reward User 02 by freeing User 01 for free! No points will be deducted! The data of User 01 ; Shang Qinghua will be transferred slowly!]

Shen Yuan only sighed in relief and stepped back when he spotted Airplane’s soul flowing back into his body.

He didn’t wake immediately, it’s been far too long for that, but he saw two light streams of tears running down his cheeks, barely breathing as his body worked up to becoming functional.

Mobei Jun gasped and rushed to his side, his cold hands freezing the tears, but he never stopped holding SQH’s body closely.

[miupow]

WRAPPED WITH A BOW 一 ୨ৎ ❪ 강태현 ❫

taehyun likes to play games with you, even when it's christmas.

pairing 。。。kang taehyun x fem!reader g。⧼🔖⧽ ⸝⸝ smut , pwp

cw。dom/sub dynamics・mean dom!taehyun・ligerie・free use・domestic chores・traditional gender roles・sex on appliances・dirty talk・degredation kink・breath play・hair pulling・unprotected sex・vaginal fingering・spanking・name calling (whore, slut, etc.)・creampies⸝⸝ wc。2. 5 k | to library。

requested. "taehyun unwrapping a christmas present but the present is you. " - offering yourself to taehyun as free use on christmas but he makes you do chores instead.

notes from lia。this ended up about twice as long as i meant for it to. oopsies. it genuinely took every atom of self control i had to not add daddy kink to this fic. you don't understand the depth of insane i am about daddy dom tyun.

getting gifts for a man who has everything can be difficult. of course, you knew taehyun would be happy with anything you had gotten for him, but you couldn’t help but feel the need to go above and beyond— you were his girlfriend, his life partner if you had any say in the matter, and you just had to match the effort he put in to all of the amazing gifts he always got you.

but you didn’t have nearly as much money and influence as he did. it was impossible to get your hands on an adequate gift for taehyun, no matter what it was you decided on, and it was only getting harder and harder the closer it got to christmas day. after being faced with what seemed like your hundredth sold out screen, you felt about ready to give up.

but then you had an idea. a devilish, ingenious idea that spread a wicked grin across your face. if you couldn’t find anything else to give taehyun for christmas, you could always give him yourself instead…

“y/n.” taehyun deadpans, lips stopped centimeters from the rim of his coffee mug. “what are you doing under the tree?”

you had slipped out of bed early to situate yourself before he woke up, but taehyun was a notoriously light sleeper— he shuffles out of the kitchen to the sight of you attempting in vain to worm your way underneath the christmas tree, the thick ribbon you’ve tied around your middle making it far more difficult to do so than you anticipated. several ornaments had fallen from their branches onto the hardwood floor, the commotion no doubt alerting your poor sleepy boyfriend. he blinks at you quizzically, raising a thick dark eyebrow as you blush and fight for the words to explain.

“i— i, um. i’m a gift.” you respond meekly. this was starting to seem less and less like a good idea the longer taehyun looked at you.

“you’re a gift.” he echoes flatly. if you didn’t know him so well, you would be worried that he was angry with you, but you could see the ghost of a grin tugging at the corners of his plump lips when he takes a sip of coffee. his fluffy brown hair falls into his eyes as he shakes his head affectionately.

“yes.” you shuffle back from beneath the tree awkwardly, propping yourself up on the rug with your hands that you had bound to your sides. taehyun’s quiet giggle confirms to you just how ridiculous you must look— you had half the mind to be embarrassed. you were supposed to look sexy, not silly, dressed up in strappy satin lingerie an eye-catching candy apple red. the heart-shaped corset pushing up your plush tits and cinching in your waist, accentuating all your ample curves and assets. the set was complete with lacy white stockings held up by a garter, the color matching the ribbon you had tied in a neat little bow right over your perky cleavage. however, it was difficult to be embarrassed when taehyun made you feel so comfortable and at ease. you laugh along with your boyfriend sheepishly, turning to hide your burning face.

it takes a moment for taehyun to fully process what you were wearing, his laughter quickly ceasing into stunned silence— you gaze back up at him to see him take a sharp intake of breath, his big brown eyes going wide and his jaw going slack. he gulps, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, his hot and heavy gaze slowly trailing from your nervous face down your scantily clad body, leaving a path of fire across your cold skin. you feel so small underneath his stare, his dark eyes looking over you as if you were some specimen, something to inspect and analyze. it’s something you don’t think you’ll ever get used to, no matter how many times you’ve laid bare beneath him, let him soak in your body as if he were studying for a test.

“i’m your gift.” you give him a wobbly, timid smile, resisting the urge to squirm underneath his smoldering gaze. “merry christmas, tyunnie.”

“but you were my girlfriend yesterday.” taehyun responds smartly, breaking out of his reverie, his lips breaking out in a grin. “and the day before that. what exactly makes you my gift?”

he can be such a shithead when it comes to teasing you. “i mean i’ll do whatever you want for the day.” you huff. “anything you ask for… how does that sound?”

“anything i ask for?” taehyun hums, placing his mug down on the coffee table before stepping over to circle you slowly. “anything at all?”

his warm, calloused hand comes to ghost over your shoulder, his fingertips electrifying as they slide across your collarbone to the base of your neck. he cups your jaw softly, applying no pressure, but just the mere thought of his hand wrapped around your neck is enough to make your breath hitch. “mhm…” you barely manage to respond, your voice high-pitched and unsteady.

your panties have been soaked since before taehyun even woke up, excited by the prospect of what was to come once you offered yourself to him, but now your cunt was really gushing. your clit throbbed as taehyun retracted his hand, begging for the pleasure you knew only he could give you.

“honey…” taehyun hums lowly, bending down low enough to breathe heavily into your ear, “how about you go and do the dishes from last night, then? and clean the counter, too. you made a mess baking all those cookies.”

you snap your head to stare at him incredulously. “are you being fucking serious?” you hiss.

“you said anything that i asked.” he smiles, far too innocently for your liking.

you could have told him no, really. he would have respected your feelings if you had shot him down. yet there you stood by the washing machine in your lingerie, your frilly pink apron on to protect the expensive fabric, folding laundry with a scowl on your face. taehyun had you do the dishes, then clean the counter, and then the sink too just for good measure— and now he had you catching up on all the laundry. on christmas day no less, you fumed. to say you were seething was an understatement… yet you continue to complete your tasks diligently, meticulous with the details even as you stewed in your frustration. you curse your boyfriend’s name under your breath as you toss his work clothes in the dryer, but you can’t help but have some semblance of blind trust in him. you’ve been through situations like this before with him, and you know he’s pissing you off on purpose just to fuck with you. he always makes it up to you in the end, and you really don’t have any reason to suspect that he won’t do the same now. especially on christmas.

just then, as if he had heard your thoughts, you feel taehyun come up behind you just as you started a second wash cycle. the broad planes of his chest press flush against your back, his sturdy muscled arms caging you against the washing machine with his palms flat on the rumbling lid. you quickly find yourself trapped beneath him, bent over the washing machine with your ass digging into his hipbones. he grinds against you sharply, the hard swell of his cock slotting itself perfectly between your pussy lips, and you can feel every ridge and vein through the thin material of his sweatpants. you gasp at taehyun’s sudden forcefulness, having done little but eye you from afar since you first offered yourself to him— he quiets you with a searing kiss, one of his large hands grabbing a rough fistful of your hair to turn your head to the side and capture your lips. your scalp stings deliciously, the painful pleasure making you keen; taehyun takes it as an invitation, deepening the kiss with his tongue enveloping yours in a hypnotizing dance. it’s so familiar yet so exhilarating, the way he dominates you completely, rendering you helpless and desperate as you grind your hips back on his and beg wordlessly for more.

taehyun tears his lips from yours, his kiss-bitten lips plump, pink and shiny. “stop fucking squirming.” he growls, his hot breath fanning across the shell of your ear. “i didn’t say stop, did i?”

his other hand rears back to land a deafening smack on your ass, forcing a high-pitched yelp out of you. your thighs shake from the sharp sting, your pussy pulsing in excitement, and you widen your legs instinctively for taehyun to position himself in between. you attempt to continue your chore as he palms your ass, turning back to the rest of the unfolded laundry— your hands shake as you fumble with the clothing, unable to focus on anything except for taehyun’s hands against your skin. he fiddles aimlessly with the waistband of your thong, pulls tight taught before letting it snap back against your hip. “i think i’m gonna keep these on.” he remarks lowly, running his thumb over the buttery fabric.

the hand in your hair slides down to wrap loosely around your throat, no doubt feeling your deep intake of breath. as his fingers grow tighter around your neck, taehyun tugs your g-string to the side, exposing your wet needy pussy to the cold laundry room air. your hole clenches around nothing, eager to be filled.

he hisses in appreciation at the sight, sliding a finger down between your pussy lips to circle at your clit. “holy fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans, accentuating his claim with a flick of his wrist— he shoves two fat fingers up your pussy in one quick stroke, all the way to the knuckle. your cunt gushes around his fingers obscenely, fingertips curling expertly against your sweet spot, eliciting the filthiest slick squelches from your weeping hole. the pleasure was already overwhelming after being left needy for so long, but it still wasn’t anywhere near enough to satisfy your burning desire. you keen wantonly, pushing your ass back against taehyun’s hand, searching in vein for the hard cock he had pressed against you moments earlier.

“fuck, i can’t take it anymore, i have to be inside of you,” taehyun curses, tugging at the drawstring of his sweats. “you can take it, right baby?”

“yes! yes, yes yes—”

taehyun doesn’t have to be told twice, and you don’t even have to beg; in seconds he’s fishing his cock out and lining it up with your entrance, running the leaky tip up and down your slit a few times just to hear you whimper before burying himself inside to the hilt. he rams into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs, his thick fat shaft stretching out your hole much more than you were prepared for. no matter how many times you take his cock, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the girth of it, the way it spears your insides like it’s trying to tear you in two.

“tyunnie—!” you hiccup, reaching back behind you blindly. taehyun swats your hand away before grabbing tightly ahold of your plush hip and pulling you as firmly against him as he could. he feels so deep inside of you that you swear he must be poking through just beneath your belly button, your pussy so deliciously full that it made your fucked out head spin.

“i said keep going.” taehyun grits out darkly.

“i ca-a-a-an’t—!” you sob pathetically, shaking your head like your life depended on it. “tyunnie, please, i can’t, i need, i—!”

there was no way you could continue to fold laundry while you were being fucked like this, not even if you tried. your eyes could hardly focus on what was in front of you, threatening to roll back into your head in ecstasy. taehyun just tuts at you, feigning disappointment, his cock twitching against your gummy walls.

the washing machine beneath you switches cycles, beginning to shake and rumble in earnest— in tandem taehyun pulls his cock out to slam back in, his fingers around your windpipe doing nothing to muffle your loud, unabashed shriek. before you could even begin to keep up his hips set up a punishing rhythm, clapping loudly and wetly against your ass as you whine and wail. his heavy balls smack against your engorged, sensitive clit with every harsh thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your core. you arch your back to take him even deeper, if you even could, pressing your face and chest against the washing machine as it shakes wildly. oddly, it’s the farthest thing from uncomfortable; it acts almost as a makeshift vibrator, the buzzing only adding to the burning sweetness that built steadily in your belly.

“you can’t?” taehyun coos mockingly, his blunt nails digging crescents into your hot, supple flesh. “we just started and you’re already fucked stupid? pretty little head all empty except for cock? dumb slut. useless whore. only good at getting fucked, yeah?”

you can’t even string together a sentence, your thoughts fragmented and scattered, babbling desperate nonsense and rolling your hips back to meet taehyun’s thrusts with a dizzying force. your body vibrates with liquid fire, heating your puffy cunt and quivering thighs— faster than ever before were you hurtling towards your climax, that familiar tightening in your core growing harder and harder to bear. you wanted nothing more than to yield to the tide, let it overtake you completely… but you were a good girl, and good girls asked for permission to cum.

“’m gonna cum,” you warn, putting all your effort into making yourself speak. “i need to—i wanna cum, tyunnie, please!”

“god, this slutty pussy’s sucking me in so fucking tight,” taehyun groans, his thrusts growing sloppier, “i’m close too, baby, gonna cum in this slutty pussy— tell me who’s pussy this is, slut, come on. whose pussy does this belong to? tell me and i’ll let you cum.”

“you!” you shriek without a moments hesitation, big pearly tears threatening to spill over your lashes. “th-this is your pussy, tyunnie, fuck! yours, all yours— ohmygod!”

with one last rough, aggressive thrust, taehyun bottoms out in your pulsating cunt, bulbous cockhead kissing against your cervix as he cums with an animalstic grunt. the sensation of his sticky, hot seed splashing against your insides is just what you needed to tip over the edge, your walls clamping down on him and milking him for all he’s worth as you ride out your own climax with long, surrendering moans. taehyun hisses from the overstimulation, but he makes no movements to pull out, letting himself soften inside of you as you both struggle to catch your breaths. his erection no longer plugging you up, thick viscous globs of your mixed cum leak out of your hole, dripping down your thighs and taehyun’s balls to collect in a puddle on the floor.

you look over your shoulder to watch taehyun slowly and carefully pull out, a creamy, foamy white ring formed around the base of his cock— he doesn’t even bother to clean it off, tucking his wet cumsoaked dick back into his sweatpants before steadying himself back upright.

“clean that puddle up for me, won’t you?” he asks with a mischievous smile, turning to walk away before you can open your mouth to stop him. you’re left still glued to the top of the washing machine, disheveled and leaking cum, your legs still shaking from the aftershocks as you struggle to regain your footing.

christmas with a man who has it all can be quite difficult, indeed.

[mightybeewrites]

Child of the Bat.

Yandere! Batfamily x Neglected! Reader

Chapter: 2

first, prev, next

Synopsis: you and your mystery horror author mother moved to Gotham for a fresh new start. At first you hated the idea of moving. You wanted to stay in Georgia with all of your friends and all of the familiar faces but soon you had to say goodbye. A few months into your new Gothamite life—disaster struck and your mother died. It was revealed that you’re also Bruce Wayne’s bio child. And so you moved in with him and his sea of children. Will you survive this new change in your life? Or will you succumb to the pressures of Gotham and its corruption?

Tw: grief, possible disturbing flashbacks

———

It has approximately been 90 days since you moved into Wayne Manor to live with Bruce Wayne and his gaggle of children.

I’m sorry

I mean your … father and new siblings.

Technically they weren’t your blood siblings—only one was, but I digress.

You believe that it would’ve been hectic, moving into a new place to live with the man that’s your father. You assumed the children would crowd you—ask a multitude of questions, as well as be bombarded and not have much space. But, you was proven wrong.

You was completely wrong.

It felt as if you was a ghost—sometimes.

——-

When you first moved into the manor, you was first greeted by the butler Alfred Pennyworth. You was holding onto your suitcase, book bag and your skateboard when you came across him. You had to look up a bit to meet his gaze.

He had peach skin with a few strains of silvery hair on his head—and warm and wide brown eyes staring into your own. His expression was sorrowful. The first thing he said was,

“My condolences, Mistress Y/N. It must be so difficult for you to go through this. My name is Alfred Pennyworth.” His voice was like a gentle hand holding onto yours to give reassurance.

He was staring at you as your blue eyes bore into his—it was like he was looking at a young Bruce again.

“… thank you, Mr. Alfred..” your voice pierced through the silent hum of the Wayne Manor. Your voice was silent and choppy, “I… thank you for letting me stay.. I’ll try not to be of much trouble..”

Alfred stepped forward, his brow furrowed, “You will not be a burden. Do not think of yourself as such… please.” He put a hand on your flannel covered shoulder this time.

“.. thank you.” You said once more then brought your gaze around the area. Old fashioned gothic architecture with red rugs and their intricate golden designs. The dark wooden floors with the grand staircase and of course the silver lamps and chandeliers.

“.. it’s.. gorgeous. Where’s..? Um. Dad?” The term dad felt weird on your lips—for you never used that term before. Growing up, your mother had boyfriends but they never stuck around to be something more than that.

Alfred straightened a bit, “I deeply apologize but your father is.. busy.”

You nodded in an understandable sense. You get it. He’s a CEO to one of the most powerful companies in the United States—of course he’s a busy man. He won’t always be here.

“It’s fine.” You said.

“Come,” Alfred grabbed some of your bags and started to go upstairs, “allow me to show you to your room.”

You said thank you once more as you followed him upstairs.

As you walked upstairs, your blue eyes gazed upon the numerous pictures of the Waynes on the wall—some frames were big while others were small. On some they were laughing, others, they were goofy or posing chaotically. It made you feel slightly at ease. Maybe this’ll be great—maybe these rich kids will be kind to you.

Your mother’s terrified face came into view. Her arms were wrapped around you as you both sat on the filthy grounds of an abandoned warehouse. Horrible laughter echoed throughout your mind-

“No.” You muttered to yourself as your eyes shut.

There was silence then shuffle of movement.

A soft hand caressed your shoulder, “Mistress Y/N?”

You opened your wet eyes to gaze at the ground.

“I’m.. I’m fine.. I just.. I miss her.. I miss her so much, I don’t want this to be real..” you muttered.

Alfred said nothing as he set your bags down and hugged you tightly—as if he did this all before—knew how to comfort someone who lost their loved ones to this forsaken city.

You didn’t hug back, you simply closed your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder.

——-

The bedroom was… huge.

Dare you say, it was almost bigger than the apartment you grew up in.

Your new bedroom had a king size bed, with a mahogany twin dresser. One in front of your bed and the other being against the wall to the right of you. A TV rested on top of the one at the front of your bed—with two night stands resting on both ends of the bed as well. You looked to the window to see that the curtains were a deep red—thick and vintage. Then you finally looked two doors and opened it slightly—peaking in to see a rather big bathroom. The other you opened led to more closet space.

“This… is incredible.” You muttered to yourself, “T-.. thank you.” You stuttered out to Alfred, waking out of the bathroom to see him putting your bags down.

“You’re welcome, Mistress Y/N. Though.. I deeply apologize your room being a bit further from the others—the family has been growing quite a lot and-“

You held your hand up slightly and said, “heh it’s fine. I um. Like the space. It’s really lovely.”

He gave you a small sorrowful smile, “very well. Do please let me know if you need anything.”

“If I don’t get lost first-.. haha. That was a joke.”

Alfred nodded, “don’t worry, I picked up on it. Also, do forgive the family, everybody is out and about. Master Bruce is out of town, on business. He won’t be back until another couple days. You will meet everyone very soon. Damian is coming home soon since he’s still in school. Tim, Duke and Cassandra commute to university. And Jason pops in from time to time—rather often actually.”

‘Wow, this is a lot of people—I’m sure things will go smoothly.’ You thought to yourself. At this point, you just want to take these things one step at a time… just one step at a time.

Just one step at a time.

Just one step at a time in this new, grand isolated world