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#these are always a struggle for me anyway because I have to figure out where to place drac's bigasse hands
mewkwota · 1 month
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Hey don't listen to Dracula's voice clips in Dead by Daylight. He talks about Trevor so darn much. Now I really wish I didn't draw these in such tiny spaces because you can hardly see Trevor's body.
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dallonwrites · 6 months
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anyway i do think something that's helped me is not only to not see my first drafts as "bad" because it's pure baby writing, or seeing them as messy/unrefined, but also to focus on what my biggest strength is at that first stage of writing something and how can i use that to propel the draft forward? so like i think my prose is usually very good at the first draft, usually my prose edits is just condensing things or deepening an image etc. but i love playing with language so it's the easiest way for me to access a draft for the first time. when there's no story on the page my brain understands language and prose best before anything else. but i need more edits for things like structure and pacing and length and hitting the right beats at the right time. which is all like, normal stuff you work on with edits, literally working on every aspect of a story through multiple drafts is So Normal, so instead of thinking about all that and what is missing from a first draft i just focus on what is there for me bc i think whatever you find the easiest at the first draft stage is what shapes + propels ur writing process overall. which is something that is soooo personal because everyone has their own strengths and struggles at different parts of the process !
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bobzora · 2 years
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the thing about gamedev that they dont want you to know is that you have to actually dev your game @.@ crazy ! ! !
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homo-house · 8 months
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i am losing. It
#i have three different appointments tomorrow which I feel I should prepare for but I can't#because of a multitude of things#first of all that my room is dirty and i myself am dirty... and i have been struggling with doing anything at all for a month because of it#its not the worst but any amount of dirty is too much for me its enough that i dont know where to begin but my threshold is low#so that means even just five things out of place can and will drive me insane from choice paralysis#i feel so filthy for existing really#anyways the second thing is i cant start preparing for the meetings before i finish this one thing ive been putting off for a month#i juat have to edit a text i wrote based on a tutor's feedback which i received last month but havent opened yet because im so terrified!!#so far 9ve read one page out of like 7 and im scared of going further#its so pathetic but i genuinely feel i need someone to hold my hand so i can open this thing#and third. third im just plain anxious for tomorrow because i will be seeing my profs + parental figures for the first time in 2 months#and i want to be presentable... and to behave properly and contribute meaningfully. to the meeting#BUT IM SCARED!!! im always so scared of everything im so scared of meeting with people i love#im scared of disappointing them etc#Hjhh why why why. why cant i heal faster why cant i be normal#im sickkkk im sick of being sick of being mentally ill im fighting demons just to stay awake!!!! fuck!!! fucj
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hyuuukais · 3 months
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heyllo :3
can i request reader x chan? reader is overwhelmed but keeps it in because that’s what they see chan doing a lot of the time. but eventually it builds to a breaking point where the stress causes them to completely shut down. chan doesn’t know exactly what’s wrong so it might be cute if he just sits on the floor in front of reader and plays clips from a song he’s working on and asks for their opinion (by basically talking out loud to himself) and then after reader calms down they are able to verbalize they just need a human weighted blanket and to be told they are doing amazing and their efforts are not going unnoticed.
im fine. 🥲
just hold me, tell me you love me
pairing : chan x reader
notes : me vs the long title. anyway thank uuu for being my first request! i hope this lives up to ur expectations and can provide u some comfort 🫶 sending u hugs and love 🫂💙 sorry it's taken a bit long to get back to! kind of was getting this feeling myself and have been unable to write, but i think i'm getting back
warnings : reader is overwhelmed, mentions of anxiety, fear of opening up to someone, reader is called pet names (love, baby), reader breaks down
wc : 1.4k
All week there's been a growing pressure in your chest threatening to spill all over the floor and leave you a mess, lying on the ground with nothing else to give. Give, you've given all you can, and now that you're home, you can't do it anymore. You seek peace in the quiet of your shared bedroom, your boyfriend still at work in his studio.
Your boyfriend, who works hard day and night. Your boyfriend, who's loving and caring and sweet. Your boyfriend, who you're scared to open up to when things get really hard, because he doesn't share with you either. Although the relationship isn't fresh, going on a year and a half, there are still things you don't talk about. You don't want to burden him with your struggles when you've always been able to power through by yourself.
Fisting the sheets under you, you can feel the need to cry in your body, the hollow feeling in your chest and the tightness in your throat, but nothing comes. It's like your body knows you're too tired for even that simple of an action, for even one tear to slip. So instead, you sit the the blanket over you, face peeking out to stare at the wall with tired eyes. You can't sleep. If you close your eyes, you know you won't drift off and wake up feeling better, you'll just lie there for hours.
"Baby?"
Something spikes in you when you hear Chans voice ring out through the apartment, curling into yourself more. He shouldn't be home this early and yet, here he is, calling your name and wondering where you are; you're never in bed this early. Chan continues to call out for you until you hear the bedroom door opening quietly.
"Love?" Chans footsteps get closer, and you can feel the edge of the bed dip with his weight as he sits down. "My love..."
His hand brushes over your shoulder, but you can't face him. When you bring the blanket over your head more, he seems to get the hint, shifting to lean against the headboard next to the statue that is your body, unmoving and heavy. You can feel him fiddling beside you, and soon, a soft melody fills your ears. It's enough to distract you temporarily from the raging storm in your head, focusing on the beats, and when Chans voice comes through, it's like you can feel a sense of comfort washing over you. Although it's not enough to completely take these feelings away, you're grateful for what he's doing.
"This song has been giving me trouble," Chan comments over the music, sighing heavily. "I can't figure out if I like the chorus or not, and it feels like it's missing something in general, but I don't know what. What do you think, baby?"
Unable to answer verbally, but still wanting him to know you're listening, you roll around so you're facing him. He chuckles as you bury your face under his thigh when you see he's sitting cross-legged, the pressure on your face oddly comforting. Chan places a hand on your back, his arm resting behind your head as he rubs small circles over your thick layer of blanket. Another song starts playing after a while, another soft one, too. You relax under his touch, feeling the vibrations through his body as he hums along to this one and makes occasional comments about changes he'd like to make.
Exhaustion hits you like a ton of bricks, your eyes fluttering shut as he keep playing different songs and telling you all about them. Both of you are aware that he shouldn't be playing so much unreleased music, but all Chan cares about in this moment is you, helping you, calming you, loving you. The company will never know anyway.
"Chan," You whisper, voice barely audible. His humming stops and he pauses the music, looking down at your limp form with furrowed brows. Moving your head slightly, you're able to look up at him on an angle, the cool air of the bedroom breaching your blanket cocoon.
"What is it, baby?" Chan moves some hair from your face, leaving this palm to rest on your cheek.
"Can you just-" You clear your throat, one hand coming up to play with the hem of his shorts at his knee to calm you more. "Just hold me, tell me you love me?"
Without words, he shifts down to your level and nods. Carefully, Chan guides you to face away from him and brings you close to his body, your back pressed tightly against his chest. His chin rests on your shoulder, now enveloped inside your blanket as he holds onto you tightly, scared that if he let's go, you'll fade away. The thought of you being in so much pain, whether physical or emotional, is something he can't bear; he can't sit on the sidelines and watch you wither away. Neither of you speak as you lie there for what feels like hours, although it must only be a few minutes. The feeling of Chan's breath on your neck is oddly comforting, your own hands finding his arm around your waist and holding onto him.
Something about the way Chan is holding you, comforting you without the pressure of being asked what's wrong, has you finally breaking down. It starts small, holding back a few tears, but a few escaping despite your efforts. Then Chan shifts closer, pressing soft lips on the skin behind your ear.
"I love you, you know that? So, so much," He whispers, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he buries his face into your hair. "You're doing amazing, baby, and I mean that. I thought... I thought something might have been wrong, but I didn't know how to go about this. I'm sorry it got to this point, I should have asked. I want you to know you can always turn to me, okay?"
His words have the dam breaking and soon enough, the sobs ripping from your chest have you gasping and hiccupping like there's no tomorrow. You don't register the way Chan tries to soothe you as he pulls you around and into his chest. Subconsciously, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and roll his body onto yours, his head sitting in the crook of your neck. The weight feels nice, grounding, and you can finally hear Chan speaking again.
"Shhh, it's okay, you're okay." Chan whispers into the skin of your neck, one of his hands smoothing back your hair. "You're okay, I'm here, now breathe, alright? Breathe, baby."
He inhales deeply, and you do your best to mimic his movements. It's shaky, but you're doing it.
"Good job, you're doing great," Chan keeps his voice low as he speaks. "Keep breathing."
It gets to the point where you don't need to think about breathing anymore, your head throbbing slightly from the sudden outburst of emotion. Chan's body stays on yours, but he props himself up enough to look at you, his palm on your cheek and his thumb wiping away any remaining tears. You can barely look him in the eye.
All he does is stare at you with those pretty, dark eyes, but you realize there's a dampness under them matching yours. You open your mouth to question it, but he shakes his head, a soft smile on his face.
"I don't want you to be in pain alone ever again." His thumb continues to caress your cheek, even though the tears have dried. "I love you too much to let you go through that. Whatever's going on, tell me when you're ready, yeah? For now, just let me gush about my beautiful partner until they're feeling better."
You can't help the small laugh that escapes you as Chan surges up to pepper your face in kisses, saying praises in between each one. With every kiss, you can feel your face heating up until you try and cover it, but he just grabs your wrists and pulls your hands away. Eventually, he slows down, pressing one last kiss directly on your lips, and settles back onto you.
"Let's stay like this for a while," Chan suggests, knowing you need it, but so does he. "My favourite place is in your arms."
-
─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom
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leilanihours · 4 months
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Hi! Could you do a Nika fic where we surprise her at one of her games in Seattle then we join her for when she signs autographs for fans?
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# STEAL MY GIRL
pairing: nika muhl x reader
word count: 1750
warnings: barely suggestive idk..
summary: even in a sea of nika's most supportive fans, you always stand out the most.
⭑ from lani: fuck writers block bc im tryna finish the two paige and nika fics that ive been teasing but i literally cant for some reason someone punch me in my gut pls! anyways enjoy this short oneshot for ml nika <3
masterlist !
THE ENTIRE ARENA was booming with pride, excitement, and energy as the buzzer signaled the end of the game. the seattle storm had beaten the dallas wings 98-85 here at climate pledge arena. the game sold out completely and still had tons of viewers watching on streaming. the whole night had been amazing - both for the reputation of women’s basketball and for you personally. 
your girlfriend, nika muhl, had been having some struggles with her visa, which resulted in her not being able to play for most of the games at the start of the regular season. whenever the storm had a game, you could see the frustration hidden on her face despite still showing up for her teammates and cheering them on. that’s just the person she was. she was caring and supportive through it all, but was also a fan favorite.
when word got out that she wouldn’t be able to play until she got sorted out, fans shared her irritation. they believed that the wnba should be better at handling these types of things, especially as they work toward expanding the franchise.
after nika’s incredible collegiate career at uconn, many viewers fell in love with every aspect of her - on and off the court. her powerful defense, striking offense, and electric motivation. also her selfless tendencies, bubbly humor, and magnetic personality.
you were one of those viewers. as a huge fan of women’s basketball, you naturally had to show your passion at every single home game the huskies would play. your booming cheers and echoing chants often caught the attention of the players - but specifically nika.
there was one game they played against syracuse where nika scored a deep three-pointer and gained the lead against them, and let’s just say you were not quiet about it. the second the ball fell in the net, you were screaming your lungs out and pumping your fists.
having being sat relatively close to the floor (just above the courtside seats) nika noticed you almost immediately. she was drawn to you and couldn’t help but smile brightly at your actions.
she knew she had to meet you and thank you for your support, so after the game where the team took pictures and gave out autographs, she took the opportunity to shoot her shot - literally and figuratively.
whenever the two of you tell this story, you warn the listeners of how cheesy it is because it is cheesy. you laugh when you tell this part of this story as your girlfriend blushes.
you didn’t have anything to ask the girls to sign, so you simply smiled watching their interactions. as nika gradually made her way closer to where you were standing with your friend, she saw that you were focused on your phone, head tilted down. however, she wouldn’t give up that easily, so she asked paige to throw her one of the mini basketballs they were giving out. she made eye contact with your friend, pointing to your oblivious state as to signal for her to get your attention. 
when your friend practically shoved your shoulder, you questioned her sudden aggression. you were confused before she pointed to below, right at nika. she knew that she was your favorite player so she had to make sure whatever this plan was, was executed perfectly. you locked eyes with the beautiful brunette before slightly furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.
quickly, nika wrote down her number, a small note, and signed her name before throwing the ball in your direction. you caught it (surprisingly) and observed the basketball player’s nervous smile.
you tilted your head in confusion before she pointed to the ball in your hands and made a pretend phone with her hand. when you looked down at what she wrote on the ball, your jaw was practically on the floor.
“to my biggest fan - saw you cheering earlier and wanted to say thank you
care to show your support another way?”
just below the short note was a set of digits, presumably her phone number. you internally screamed at the whole interaction, especially now because all you did in that moment was nod with a stupid smile.
and even after three years of talking with nika privately and eventually becoming romantically involved with her, you were still her biggest fan. the media saw it during the entire march madness tournament, at the wnba draft, and now the wnba season.
but there was one minor problem…you were pursuing your major at grad school in connecticut, meaning you were thousands of miles away from nika. navigating a long-distance relationship was definitely hard and had its bumps. regardless, you promised to be there for each other every step of the way. just because you lived on opposite sides of the country didn’t mean you stopped loving each other.
which leads us to now, at a seattle storm home game - one that was just won with the help of your talented girlfriend who actually isn’t aware of your presence at the moment. you had a few weeks before classes start up again, and you decided you wanted to surprise nika at her game. after checking both of your schedules, you booked the flight, bought the tickets, and started packing.
you were joined by one of your close friends and nika’s former teammate, paige bueckers. she knew about your private relationship with the brunette and was practically the captain of the ship fully supported it, which is one of the reasons she wanted to come with you.
the two of you were spotted as soon as you stepped foot onto the arena’s property. while paige was recognized for her own basketball career, you were recognized for being one of the team’s closest friends, as seen in their lives, tiktoks, and photo dumps. 
less than ten minutes after you guys arrived at the venue, the internet was going crazy at the unexpected visit. normally you would’ve been concerned by the attention, as you didn’t want to ruin the surprise for your girlfriend, but you knew that she doesn’t go on her phone before a game, so you were covered.
as you stood next to paige in your seats, you were practically jumping with excitement. it had been weeks since you had seen nika in person, so the thought of being able to kiss her face, hold her hand, and wrap your arms around her undoubtedly made you giddy.
“yo, are you good?” paige laughs as she sees you smiling to yourself.
“yeah i’m just excited, man, i haven’t seen her in so long.”
“you nervous?”
“a little,” you start, “but the plan isn’t that complicated so hopefully i don’t fuck it up.”
“you should prolly get on that plan, like, right now.”
you watch as the seattle girls make their way towards the people in the stands with markers in their hands. that was your cue for you and paige to make your way down to the first row.
you had informed seattle’s coach of your idea and she was automatically on board. she told you that she would have you stand at the end of the first row so that nika had easy access to you but would also be surprised.
as you spotted your favorite brunette making her way down the row through wholesome fan interactions, you prepare her jersey in your hands for her to sign. you had no idea how she would react or what she would say, all you knew was that you couldn’t wait any longer to be in her arms again.
she is now signing the poster of the fans to your left and has yet to notice you. you smile feverishly at her beaming joy as she interacts with her fans. you can’t contain your excitement when she has finally made her way to you.
you had a whole ass pickup line planned out for her but you were too caught up in your head to go through with it (probably for the better) so all you could get out was a “hi, nika” with the widest grin ever.
her eyes shoot up to yours as soon as she recognizes your voice - the same voice that has comforted her through her best and worst, coaxed her into relaxation, and become her safe space.
“Y/N! OH MY GOD,” she practically screams as she throws her arms around your neck, “how are you here right now??”
“do you really think i have enough self control to stay across the country when i could easily be here with you?” you laugh, hands grabbing her waist as you bury your head in her neck and inhale her comforting scent.
“fuck, y/n, i’ve missed you so much, my love,” she says into your hair, placing a delicate kiss there. at this point, the fans around you two had started recording the reunion, along with paige and the rest of nika’s teammates. you wouldn’t hear the end of it tomorrow, but here in each other's embraces, neither of you could care less.
“i missed you too, angel. been waiting so long to see you,” you sigh in content before you pull away to plant a sweet kiss on her forehead, “you did so good out there tonight, i’m so proud of you, nika.”
“thank you, baby,” she smiles genuinely, “probably because you were in the audience.”
“but you didn’t even know i was here,” you giggle.
“yeah whatever,” she responds. she goes in for another hug but is stopped.
“wait! you still need to sign my jersey!” you exclaim, holding up the yellow and green shirt.
“really, y/n?” she deadpans jokingly.
“yes, really. i didn’t come all this way just to not get an autograph from my favorite player,” you wink.
“alright fine,” she says before taking the jersey and splaying it against your upper body to write on. she uncovers the sharpie in her hand using her teeth (an action that definitely did not make your knees buckle) before beginning to sign it. her head is lowered close to your chest for a good thirty seconds while she gets to work but you have no idea what she’s writing. “there, all done.”
she takes the jersey from your grasp and holds it up so you can see it. her note has you shaking your head and smiling immensely.
“to my biggest fan - saw you cheering one day and now wanted to say i love you so much
care to let me show you how much?”
— leilani signing off ! 📁
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mononijikayu · 1 month
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lay your love on me — nanami kento.
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You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you prepared to drop your bombshell. “You know how I’m always worried about you being a sorcerer and putting yourself in danger?” He nodded, clearly not seeing where you were going with this. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that a few times.” “Well,” you continued, struggling to keep a straight face, “I’ve come up with the perfect solution to that problem.” “And what’s that?” Kento asked, raising an eyebrow. “I think you should quit being a sorcerer and become my house–husband instead,” you announced with a grin.
GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;
WARNING/S: romance, marriage, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, possessive behaviour, protectiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, nanami kento is that MAN, reader petitions for nanami to be her house husband;
WORD COUNT: 5.4k words.
NOTE: i hope this makes up for the fact that i've been writing a lot of angsty fics. this was supposd to be a baywatch thing. but i changed my mind. anyway, i'll be doing the side - 900 works in advance. i hope you enjoy this!!! from this point, i might be slower in updating because i'll be back to uni again and probably will be a little bit more busy. thank you for reading and always enjoy this one too!!! i love you <3
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
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HE’S NOT PROUD OF THE MAN HE’S BECOME. But it’s hard for him, when it comes to you, his precious wife. Nanami Kento had always considered himself above petty emotions like jealousy. He was calm, rational, the kind of man who could look at the world with a level head.
Yet, ever since he met you, ever since he’s fallen for you, built his life, his universe about you — his life had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. You brought out something in him that was unfamiliar and unsettling—a possessiveness, an insecurity that gnawed at him whenever he saw the way others looked at you. 
As he sat next to you on the sun-kissed beach, the warm Malaysian sunbathing you both in a golden glow, Nanami Kento found it difficult to fully relax. This was supposed to be your quality time, the belated honeymoon you both had both worked so hard to carve out from your hard and demanding schedules. For once, he had managed to take time off from his life as a sorcerer, a rare break that was meant to be a celebration of your love, their commitment to each other. 
You were just as busy as he was, if not more. As a lawyer, you were brilliant, successful, and independent. You made more than he did, something that had never bothered him—until now. Not because of pride, but because it made him realize just how much you had to offer. You could have anyone, and yet you had chosen him. The thought should have been reassuring, but instead, it only added to his insecurity.
Instead of peace, he found himself caught up in a swirl of emotions he couldn’t quite shake. It wasn’t just his possessiveness—it was the realization that, for the first time in his life, he was vulnerable. He was vulnerable because he loved you so deeply, because the thought of losing you, or of someone else taking your attention, filled him with a fear he didn’t know how to handle. 
Kento couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as you lay on the sunbed, basking in the warm Malaysian sun. The way the golden rays kissed your skin, making it glow, had him utterly captivated. You were wearing the tightest two-piece bikini, a vibrant floral design that contrasted beautifully against your sun-kissed skin. The colors brought out the vibrancy of your figure, accentuating every curve in a way that made his heart race.
He watched as you stretched languidly, your body moving with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly to him. The sunlight danced across your skin, highlighting the delicate contours of your body, the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the curve of your waist, the length of your legs.
Every inch of you was perfection in his eyes, and it drove him mad how stunning you were. But it wasn’t just your physical beauty that had him so entranced; it was the knowledge that you were his, that this incredible, breathtaking person had chosen him.
His gaze lingered on your face, where a peaceful smile played on your lips, your eyes closed as you enjoyed the warmth of the sun. The gentle breeze teased a few strands of your hair, brushing them across your forehead, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and tuck them behind your ear. He loved these quiet moments, where he could just watch you, memorize the way you looked in the golden light, the way the sun turned your hair into a halo of warmth.
You were the most beautiful being to ever exist to him, and the thought made his chest tighten with a mix of pride and disbelief. How had he been so fortunate? What had he done to deserve someone like you in his life?
The longer he watched you, the more he felt that familiar, possessive edge creeping in. It was a feeling he wasn’t entirely comfortable with, one that he had never experienced before you came into his life. He had never thought of himself as the jealous type, but when it came to you, something primal and protective stirred within him. He didn’t want anyone else to look at you the way he did, to see what he saw, to appreciate the way you made the world a brighter, more beautiful place just by existing.
And yet, as he sat there, he knew that others couldn’t help but notice you too. It was impossible not to. You were radiant, magnetic, and he could see the way people’s gazes lingered on you, the appreciative looks that followed you whenever you walked by. He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to do something irrational, to pull you close and stake his claim in front of everyone.
Kento could see the way men’s eyes lingered on you, the admiration in their gazes as they took in your beauty. It made his blood boil in a way he wasn’t proud of. He wanted to stand up, to make it clear that you were his, that no one else had the right to look at you like that. But he stayed silent, gripping your hand a little tighter, hoping the feeling would pass.
You opened your eyes, and your gaze met his. The smile that spread across your face was one of pure love, your eyes softening as you looked at him. In that moment, all his insecurities melted away. You were his, and he was yours. It was as simple as that.
Kento leaned back in his chair, his own smile tugging at his lips as he continued to watch you. You shifted slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow, your expression playful as you caught him staring.
“See something you like?” you teased, your voice light and full of affection.
“Always, my love.” he replied, his voice deep and sincere. His gaze never left yours as he spoke, and you could see the intensity of his feelings reflected in his eyes. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
You chuckled, a soft, melodic sound that made his heart skip a beat. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”
Kento couldn’t help but grin at that, though his expression quickly turned serious again. “It drives me mad, you know,” he admitted, his voice low. “How beautiful you are. How you’re mine.”
The way he said it, with such raw emotion, made your heart flutter. There was something in his tone, something almost possessive, that sent a shiver down your spine. But it wasn’t a bad feeling. If anything, it made you feel even closer to him, knowing that he felt so deeply for you.
“And you’re mine.” you replied softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. The simple touch seemed to calm him, his fingers threading through yours as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Your eyes narrowed on him. “Only mine.”
And then there was your possessiveness. You couldn’t deny it—you were just as bad as he was when it came to jealousy. You tried to play it cool, but the truth was, you were no better at hiding it than he was. The moment you noticed the women stealing glances at him, their eyes lingering on his broad shoulders, his chiseled features, you felt a wave of irritation wash over you.
It was subtle, but Kento could sense the tension in you, the way your posture stiffened, the way you shifted closer to him, almost instinctively, as if to stake your claim. You wanted the world to know that this man was yours and yours alone.
Just as it does now.
Because if you were being honest, your husband was the most beautiful man in the world. With his muscular build and tall six-foot frame, he was the epitome of masculine perfection. The way his long, muscular arms held that beer bottle in his massive palm, the casual strength in his grip, made your heart flutter. His chiseled jaw tightened as he glanced in the direction of the men who had dared to look your way, his bright brown eyes narrowing in a clear, unmistakable warning. He didn’t have to say a word—the message was loud and clear: stay away.
You bit your lip, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to break through. This man belonged to you, and he wanted everyone to be sure that they knew it. There was something undeniably satisfying about the way he made it so obvious, so deliberate. And you knew that he felt the same way about you. 
His gaze flicked back to you, softening when he saw the look in your eyes. It was a look that said, “I’m yours.” and it made your heart swell with love and possessiveness all over again.
You didn’t care if it was irrational, if it was a little bit crazy—this man was yours, and you were his. And you wanted everyone to know that you belonged to each other, that nothing and no one could come between you.
Kento must have sensed your thoughts, because he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “You know you’re the only one I see, right?”
His voice was deep, reassuring, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I know, babe." you whispered back, your fingers curling around his arm, feeling the solid muscle beneath his skin. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make sure everyone else knows it too.”
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes sparkling with amusement and something deeper, something more primal. “Good.” he said, his tone possessive and full of promise. “Because I’m not about to let anyone forget that you’re mine either.”
You grinned at that, the fiery possessiveness in his words matching your own. It was an unspoken agreement, a mutual understanding that neither of you would ever let anyone come between what you had. Because you both knew that what you had was rare, precious, and worth protecting at all costs.
As you stood there, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. This beautiful, strong, and fiercely loyal man was yours. And you were his.
You pressed a kiss to his jaw, savoring the way he responded, the way his arm tightened around you just a little bit more. It was a simple gesture, but it carried the weight of everything you felt for him, everything you both felt for each other. This man belonged to you, and you belonged to him. And nothing in the world could change that.
It was a strange sort of dance, the two of you caught in a loop of possessiveness that neither could quite break free from. And yet, there was something oddly reassuring about it. In a world where you both faced so many uncertainties, where danger lurked around every corner, this shared jealousy was a reminder that you were both fiercely committed to each other. It wasn’t healthy, Kento knew that, but it was real. Even if you weren’t proud of it, even if Kento wasn’t proud of it — it was real. Between the two of you. It was love for you.
Still, the women’s gazes hadn’t wavered, you noticed. Their eyes still linger on your husband as if they had every right to admire him. The sight made your blood simmer, a protective, possessive streak flaring to life within you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Kento—he was as loyal as they came—but you didn’t appreciate the way they were looking at him, as if he were something to be desired, something they could claim if they tried hard enough.
Your grip on his hand tightened as you leaned closer and you cast a glance in his direction. Kento, ever composed, was doing his best to ignore the attention, but you could see the slight tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flickered to you as if seeking reassurance. He puts away the beer bottle on the side and looks to you again. 
A grin slowly spread across your lips as an idea formed. If those women wanted to look at your husband, you’d give them something to see—a clear, undeniable reminder that he was yours. You leaned in, your hand resting on his chest as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze.
Kento looked down at you, a question in his eyes, but before he could ask, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a hot, passionate kiss. The world around you faded as you poured all your love, your possessiveness, your desire into that kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a statement. A declaration that this man, this incredible, strong, loyal man, was yours. And no one else had any right to him. He only belongs to you. Only you.
Kento’s initial surprise melted away as he responded in kind, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, pulling you even closer. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that matched your own, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body relaxed into yours as if nothing else mattered. Kento’s arms slowly wrap around the small of your back, kissing you even deeper. 
When you finally pulled back, you were breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. You could see the effect it had on him, the way his eyes had darkened with desire, the small, satisfied smile that tugged at his lips. You glanced over at the women who had been ogling him earlier. Their expressions had shifted—some were embarrassed, others annoyed, but all of them had gotten the message loud and clear.
Triumph surged through you as you turned back to Kento, your grin widening. “I think they got the point, babe.” you whispered, your voice teasing.
Kento chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your lips as if to savor the moment. “I believe they did.” he murmured, his tone filled with warmth and a hint of amusement. “Though I must admit, I didn’t mind that at all.”
“Then…..can we continue this upstairs?”
Your husband’s eyes narrow, almost awakening something in him. “What do you have in mind?”
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
YOU DON’T THINK YOU WOULD EVER GET TIRED OF HIM. Nanami Kento always made you feel so many things—desire, love, passion—and you loved every bit of it. The tension between you had been building ever since that heated kiss on the beach, and as you made your way back to your hotel room, it only grew stronger.
Each step, each shared glance, every subtle touch added fuel to the fire burning between you. The anticipation was electric, and by the time you reached the door, it was like a dam waiting to burst.
The moment the door clicked shut behind you, the restraint you’d both been holding onto snapped. You pressed yourself against him, your lips crashing into his with a fervor that had your head spinning. It was as if you couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t close the gap between you fast enough. His hands roamed your body with a hunger that matched your own, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.
The kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more desperate, as you both succumbed to the need that had been simmering beneath the surface all day. His fingers dug into your hips, guiding you back toward the bed as he claimed your mouth over and over again, each kiss more intense than the last.
You could feel his desire, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, the low growl that rumbled in his chest as you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head. The moment the fabric hit the floor, his lips were back on yours, his hands working to free you from your bikini. The way he touched you, with a mix of reverence and raw need, sent shivers down your spine. He breaks the kiss.
“Kento, Kento….” you breathed finally, your voice trembling with anticipation as you felt his lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His hands moved with purpose, untying the strings of your bikini, and the sensation of the cool air against your bare skin only heightened the intensity of the moment.
He leaned back for just a moment, his gaze sweeping over you with a look of pure, unfiltered desire. “You’re perfect, my love.” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, before his lips were back on yours, more insistent this time, as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you for even a second.
Your hands found their way to the waistband of his beach shorts, your fingers trembling slightly as you pushed them down, the fabric pooling at his feet. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way his hard, muscular frame pressed against you, and it sent a rush of heat straight to your core.
The bed hit the back of your knees, and before you knew it, you were tumbling onto the soft sheets, Kento following you down, his body covering yours in an instant. The weight of him, the feel of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. He presses his lips against yours again, the heat between your bodies burning you even more.
You moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled as he deepened the kiss, his hands exploring every inch of your body as if he was trying to memorize you all over again. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, the heat of him throbbing against your thigh, and it sent a jolt of electricity through your body.
His lips left yours, trailing down your neck once again and across your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. The feeling of his mouth on your skin, combined with the way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, was almost too much to bear.
“Kento, babe.” you gasped, your voice breaking as he found that sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the skin there in a way that made you arch against him, desperate for more. “It’s so….it’s so hot.”
“Tell me what you want, my love.” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with need.
“You.” you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him against you. “I want you, Kento.”
The way he responded, with a deep, guttural groan, sent shivers down your spine. His hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them. It was as though he found home again. You groaned as you felt his hands explore the exposed skin. He was enjoying this, you knew. He enjoyed teasing you.
“God, Kento.” you breathed out, your voice trembling with need. He was driving you wild, his touch lighting you up in ways you hadn’t thought possible. You needed more, needed him closer, needed to feel him in every possible way..
You could feel him pressing against you, his lips returning to yours in a kiss that was just as intense as before. It was almost too much, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours, the way his hands moved with such skill and tenderness, the way every inch of him seemed to be in tune with your needs.
The anticipation was building, the need for him becoming overwhelming as you felt his fingers deftly undo the last of your bikini top. The cool air of the room brushed against your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating between the two of you. You could feel the wetness pooling between your thighs, the desperate longing for him growing with each passing second.
Kento’s touch was everything—gentle and firm, demanding and patient all at once. The way he handled you, the way he made you feel, it was almost too much to bear, and yet you couldn’t get enough. You wanted more, needed more, and he seemed more than willing to give it to you. He liked to give you more and more, to satiate your greed.
Your bodies moved together with a rhythm that felt both familiar and electrifyingly new. The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the soft rustle of sheets, and the occasional, intoxicating moans that slipped from your lips as Kento's hands roamed over your bare skin.
His touch was a maddening mix of tenderness and raw desire, each caress lighting a fire inside you that grew with every passing moment. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, and the softness of thighs, lingering just long enough to make you gasp before moving on. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as his lips followed the path of his hands, kissing and nipping at every sensitive spot he could find.
You arched your back as his mouth moved lower, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone before trailing down to your chest. He took his time, savoring every inch of you as if he wanted to memorize the way you tasted, the way you felt beneath him. His tongue flicked over your nipple, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you that made your toes curl. You moaned his name, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, urging him on.
Kento responded with a low growl, the sound vibrating against your skin as he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before letting his teeth graze the sensitive flesh. The sensation was almost too much to bear, your body reacting with a surge of heat that pooled between your thighs. You could feel the wetness there, the way your body was aching for him, and you knew that he could feel it too.
His hands slid down your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips before dipping between your thighs. The first touch of his fingers against your slick heat made you cry out, your hips bucking involuntarily as you pressed yourself against his hand. He moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you with light, feathery touches that only made your desire grow stronger.
You could feel the tension building inside you, the need for release becoming almost unbearable as he continued to tease you. His fingers slipped between your folds, stroking you with a skill that had your head spinning. Each touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your body trembling with anticipation as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. One after another, it was a pandemonium of pleasure. When you came, you sobbed as you felt his fingers tighten against your crevices.
“Kento, babe. Please.” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “Please, I need you.”
He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you. There was something primal in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him, and that knowledge sent a thrill of excitement through you.He removed his fingers, licking them clean one after another, enjoying the taste of you. The sight of him made you even more wet.
“What do you want, my love?” He cooed at you. “Where do you want me?”
“Inside, Kento.” You muttered, your eyes beaming with pleasure. “Please, babe. Please.”
He didn’t make you wait any longer, his dear love. With a practiced ease, he positioned himself between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he guided himself to your entrance. The tip of his cock brushed against your swollen folds, and you could feel the heat of him, the way his length stretched you as he slowly pushed inside.
The sensation was overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you completely making you gasp for air. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to anchor yourself in the whirlwind of pleasure that threatened to consume you.
Kento moved with deliberate, measured thrusts, each one sending a wave of ecstasy through your body that made your vision blur. He was gentle but firm, his pace steady as he worked to bring you both to the peak of pleasure. You could feel every inch of him inside you, the way he stretched you, filled you, in a way that made you feel utterly complete.
Your moans filled the room, each one growing louder as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with a growing urgency. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound almost drowned out by the symphony of your lovemaking. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, the familiar pressure building as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.
“Kento, I’m… I’m so close, babeeeeee!” you breathed out, your voice trembling with anticipation. You were right on the edge, teetering on the brink of a powerful release that you could feel building inside you like a storm.
“Let go, love.” he whispered against your ear, his voice rough with desire. “I’ve got you. Let go for me.”
His words were all you needed. With a final, powerful thrust, he pushed you over the edge, your body shattering into a million pieces as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your voice breaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you, each one more intense than the last.
Kento followed you into bliss, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release overtaking him. You could feel the warmth of him spilling into you, the way his body trembled against yours as he groaned your name, his voice thick with emotion.
For a moment, the world stood still. All you could feel was him, all you could hear was the sound of your racing hearts and the ragged breaths you both struggled to catch. He stayed inside you, his body pressed against yours as you both came down from the high, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through you.
Slowly, he pulled out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness that was quickly replaced by the warmth of his arms wrapping around you. He pulled you close, holding you against his chest as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.
“I love you, love.” he whispered, his voice soft and full of sincerity. “So much.”
“I love you too, babe.” you murmured back, your voice barely above a whisper. Your body was spent, completely exhausted from the intensity of your lovemaking, but you felt content, safe, and utterly cherished in his arms.
As you lay there together, his arms tighten around you as if he never wanted to let you go. And in that moment, with the warmth of his body against yours and the sound of the waves crashing outside, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be—right here, in his arms, for as long as you both lived.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
epilogue
Later that evening, after the intensity of your earlier moments had faded into a comfortable, blissful haze, you found yourself curled up against Kento’s chest, his arm wrapped securely around you. You sighed, almost as though you were the most content in your entire life.
He’d already made sure to take care of you and clean you up, even making you some tea so that you could relax on your shared bed. And you love him for it. He always spoils you to no end. The sound of the waves outside your window was a soothing backdrop, lulling you into a state of utter contentment. 
As you lay there, a thought popped into your mind, one that made you grin mischievously. You tilted your head up to look at him, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest.
“Kento, babe.” you began, your tone teasing, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Hm?” He glanced down at you, his expression warm and relaxed, though there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”
You bit your lip to keep from grinning as you prepared to drop your bombshell. “You know how I’m always worried about you being a sorcerer and putting yourself in danger?”
He nodded, clearly not seeing where you were going with this. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that a few times.”
“Well, babe.” you continued, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’ve come up with the perfect solution to that problem.”
“And what’s that?” Kento asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I think you should quit being a sorcerer and become my house–husband instead.” you announced with a grin.
There was a moment of silence as Kento processed what you’d just said. His usually stoic expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to determine whether or not you were serious. You could see the wheels turning in his head, and it only made it harder for you to hold back your laughter. He looked cute, when he's thinking, you like to believe.
“A… house–husband?” he repeated slowly, as if testing the word out on his tongue.
“Yes! A house–husband, babe.” you confirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “You’d be amazing at it! You could cook, clean, and take care of everything at home while I go to work. And you’d never have to worry about exorcisms or curses or any of that dangerous stuff ever again.”
Kento blinked at you, his mouth opening as if to say something, then closing again as he reconsidered. Finally, a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “And what would I do all day at your house–husband?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’d find plenty to do, babe.” you replied, barely able to keep a straight face. “You could perfect your cooking skills, learn how to fold the perfect fitted sheet, maybe even take up knitting! Plus, you’d have plenty of time to dote on me when I come home from work. Maybe even meet the old ladies at the corner store! They really like zumba, just as much as you do.”
At that, Kento let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Knitting, huh? I didn’t realize that was part of the job description.”
“Well, it’s optional.” you conceded with a giggle. “But I think you’d be really good at it.”
Kento shook his head, clearly amused by your antics. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Dead serious.” you replied, though the twinkle in your eyes betrayed your true intentions. “I mean, think about it. No more dangerous missions, no more fighting curses. Just a quiet, peaceful life at home with me. Grow old together and me spoiling my husband with bringing in the dough and you spoiling me with all your love. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
He considered it for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “It does sound nice.” he admitted, his tone still teasing. “But I’m not sure how I’d feel about giving up my job to become a… house–husband.”
“Oh, come on.” you coaxed, poking him playfully in the ribs. “You’d love it. And I’d love coming home to you every day. Plus, you’d look really cute in an apron.”
That finally did it. Your husband Kento burst out laughing, the sound rich and warm as it filled the room. You couldn’t help but join in, your own laughter mingling with his as you both imagined the ridiculousness of the idea. But you suppose the ridiculousness of it is what made it so touching. Life is always strange anyway, you think. And he knows that too. 
When the laughter finally subsided, Kento leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I appreciate the thought.” he said, his voice full of affection. “But for now,  I think I’ll stick to being a sorcerer for now. Though I have to admit, the idea of being your house–husband is tempting.”
“Tempting enough to reconsider?” you asked with a grin, though you knew his answer.
“Not quite, love.” he replied, chuckling. “But I’ll keep it in mind as a backup plan.”
“Deal.” you agreed, snuggling closer to him. “But just so you know, I’m not giving up on the idea entirely. You’d make an excellent house–husband. Mine only, of course.”
Kento smiled down at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. “And you’d make an excellent lawyer who brings home the bacon.”
“Then it’s settled.” you said, laughing. “We’ll just have to make sure you stay safe so I don’t have to resort to plan B.”
“With you by my side, love?  I have no doubt I will.” he murmured, kissing you softly as you both settled back into the peaceful, contented silence of the evening.
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fluffylino · 9 months
Text
ghost face ! minho
i was watching scream and i wish minho had me screaming.
-contains mature themes (a little blood, fear play kinda)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"caught you!"
you screamed in terror. the masked man, taking you by surprise from behind. the lights were off and all you could see was that horrendous mask. which kept appearing in your dreams.
you struggled to get up from where you were crouched behind a table. and he had shown up. knowing exactly where you hid.
because he was watching. he was always watching.
stumbling you grabbed a flowerpot, throwing it in his direction. he dodged it. letting out a hearty laugh. you felt your heart stop.
you were backed into a corner.
one side was a wall and the other was the steps that led to the second floor.
if you ran upstairs, then there was no way you could get back down.
"sometimes you make it so obvious" he said, playing with the knife in his hand. pressing it against his hand. you were scared. he pointed upstairs with the tip of the knife.
"go on. run."
and you did. tripping on the steps. it was so dark you couldn't make out where you were going. that was until you ran straight into a dark figure.
"oh honey, you can't escape from me" he said, voice dropping. you felt yourself being pushed against the ground.
hard.
feeling a little dizzy with how fast you hit the floor.
you gave up. if he was going to kill you. then so be it. maybe he'd be kind enough to spare you again.
"l-let me live" you mumbled, feeling a thick rope bind your wrists together behind your back. his black cape running against you as he fumbled about.
"you know, fun fact. i don't kill. i just have fun!" he exclaimed, his voice muffled behind the mask. at times you wished you knew how he looked. you wished you could see his face.
he had told you his name through a phone call. you had to admit. you were braver when you were on call. rather than in reality. because reality was reality.
"you don't seem to sound like you're having fun"
he knew what you meant. his voice sounded like he was faking the fun voice.
"shut the fuck up, will you."
you shivered, going pliant. this was him. his deep voice. his voice that could make you cream yourself.
.
"aaahh-" you cried out, desperately trying to tug your hands free. he giggled, staring right at you.
all you could see was the mask. maybe a little glimpse of his eyes. but that was all you got.
the knife running along the insides of your thighs. a warm liquid dripping down. which he wiped away with his gloved thumb.
"so tell me. you called back today"
your eyes widened. you weren't expecting him to show up inside your house. dressed up, ready to do whatever he liked. if you knew he was going to come back, you wouldn't have called.
"stop crying for god's sake" he shouted.
spanking you hard. you jerked forward with the force. embarassingly trying to close your legs.
his clothed thigh wedged between your legs. fabric rubbing against your cunt in the best way possible.
"humping my thigh, now? you seriously are a horny slut" he let out. his hand playing with your folds. coating you with your own wetness.
.
"look at the camera."
you couldn't. you didn't know what he'd do with those pics. you pressed your face to the cold floor, spit dripping out of your parted mouth.
his dick buried inside of you.
"i. said. look."
he said through gritted teeth, tugging your hair to make you look up. your eyes rolling back at how deep he was. cock rubbing against that spot that had you seeing stars. the flash went off and he let go. your head falling back down.
"such a whore"
a few more tears slipped out. his fingers digging into your waist as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts.
"hm" he hummed. a little curiousity in his tone.
"why aren't you saying anything."
you kept quiet. letting yourself get lost in a fuzzy space. it was dark anyways. all you knew about the man who had screwed you once before, was his name.
he flipped you over. taking you by surprise by how gently he pushed back in. staying absolutely still. and you did the same.
"p-please" you muttered. a faint light from the neighbour's backyard lighting up the room. you could vaguely see his eyes through the mesh. his breathing heavy, chest heaving. he rolled his hips against you. a low moan leaving him.
you couldn't do this. you wanted more. to be touched. to feel him. without the mask. to see him.
"please p-please please" you chanted, shaking your head as you began to sob harder.
"do you even know what you're begging for" he chuckled, pressing his hand against your neck. with enough pressure to make your vision hazy. your mouth opened and closed as you wondered whether to say it or not.
"k-kiss me p-please" you whispered. it wasn't loud but you were sure he heard you.
"kiss me m-minho i beg y-you"
you shook, wrists aching at how tight he knotted the rope. he seemed to understand. grabbing the knife he had thrown on the side as he cut it off.
"p-please m-minho plea-"
throwing your arms around his neck. his body pressed against yours as you tugged him closer. how did he even breathe with that on. you could feel his eyes on you. and you were sure he was thinking about it. whether to trust you. whether to do it.
"damn you really are....quite the thing"
you hadn't even realised he had pushed the mask up to his nose. just enough to kiss you.
"mmph-" his lips roughly pressed against yours. a slight tangy taste of blood. his tongue eager to explore your mouth. you kept your mouth opening, letting him lick into you.
"swallow."
he instructed after spitting into your mouth. you did as he said. a whimper leaving you as you kept your mouth open. he was smirking triumphantly.
but what you did next mustve have shocked him. you pulled the mask off completely. flinging it somewhere behind.
kissing him before he could react. legs wrapped tightly around his waist to prevent him from moving. you clenched down on him. slick coating his length.
"aah f-fuc mmhph" he groaned out, his gloved hand tangled in your hair to keep you away. for a split second, you opened your eyes.
you could see him.
the outline of his face.
the slope of his nose.
his cat-like eyes. lacking any emotion, only lust.
a few blood stains on his cheek.
his messy brownish red hair. he looked better than you had imagined.
like a god.
"you're really being real risky tonight, kitten" he panted out. you let out a content sound at the nickname.
"s-so pretty" you blabbered, holding his face. his eyes widening at the sudden compliment.
"..me?"
"yeah..gorgeous" you said more clearly. he let out a soft laugh.
sticking his tongue out and running it against your cheek. unconciously you giggled, trying to push him away.
it was ticklish.
"awww someone's ticklish" minho grumbled, you could see the smile threatening to show.
that was thrown out of the window as he thrusted in hard, kissing you like it was the last thing he'd do. his hand creeping around your neck. pressing down. to hold you in place.
.
.
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kingconia · 1 year
Text
TWISTED WONDERLAND'S ROYAL BOYS WITH S/O, WHO IS THEIR SWORN PROTECTOR
Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️
— You are something between his protector, and, basically, a... Tutor? Governess? It is hard to tell, but his mother insisted on keeping him safe and controlled;
— You tried to do that, by the way. But it killed you to see him struggling, being stripped away from a proper childhood;
— From the other side, there wasn't much you could do. If his mother noticed some strangeness, she would find him a new guard, and you wasn't sure that they will be as kind as you;
— You secretly left him some chocolate and other tokens, writing him about how proud you are. He figured out that it was you, of course, but both of you never discussed it;
— You follow him to the NRC, and that is where you could finally act freely around him. Though, you still follow a strict rules—knowing how much Riddle values them—you still try to prove him that life is much more than that.
”Lady Y/n, I hope you understand that I could get you fired,” Riddle says, voice coming so small that it is hardly threatening. ”You are crossing lines.”
You smile, lowering your head instinctively, as you kneel in front of him.
”Of course.”
”You are disobedient,” he continues, his bottom lip trembling. ”It is against rules, and you know that. You should be punished according to them.”
”I understand. That will be done,” your eyes are meeting his. ”But for now, my majesty... Will you blow your candles?”
Riddle stares at the little cake that you made yourself, quietly and secretively, while he studied throughout the day, and lets out a very quiet sob. His eyes are watery, when he nods.
”And, please, don't forget about your wish.”
He nods again, still not trusting his voice. When he finishes, you are clapping at him proudly, rushing to serve him a cake.
I can have everything I want, but all I would ask, it is for you to stay by my side, Lady Y/n.
He never punishes you for that, in the end.
Kalim Al-Asim. 💛
— A sworn protector? Oh, please, he thinks you are his friend from the very beginning. And your attempts to explain to him that you are here for completely another thing, fail;
— You are really fond of him, but you feel like allowing him to see you as a friend is a direct threat to his safety, and therefore, you always deny him and his attempts to become friends;
— Kalim is really reckless, and sometimes naive. It gives you a heart attack all the time, and you can't help but be clued to him, just in case if anything happens;
— Kalim doesn't really take you seriously, though? Yes, he knows you are powerful, and you can fight and kill, but, eh, what else? You are sweet, and you are his friend anyway;
— Still, it hurts him when you so actively refuse to be called as one, insisting that you are a mere guard. Not because of himself. He just thinks it is sad that you consider yourself to be just a tool under the royal family.
You walk soundlessly, as you move behind Kalim, keeping the distance in ten steps, following the common royal code.
Neither of you speak, and Kalim seems to be not in the spirit. Which is rare and disturbing, but you assume it is something related to Jamil.
”Am I allowed to ask a question?” You dare to murmur, voice so quiet that it is barely heard.
”...Yes, Y/n,” he answers immediately.
Sometimes, you don't speak for days, mere being his shadow, nodding and shrugging if questions asked, trusting Kalim to understand. That is why your voice is always a music to his ears, a very awaited sound.
”Had something happened between you and Jamil, my prince?”
He stops, and you stop as well. Your brows furrowing, waiting for the answer.
”Why would you care, Y/n?” He wonders suddenly. ”Jamil is clearly not a threat to my well-being. If anything, he keeps me alive simply by cooking.”
You know that as well. Yet, you can't help but worry about his state.
”Because...” Your voice trails off, as you can't say a true reason behind your question. ”No, you are right, of course.”
Kalim ignores your last sentence, before finally turning to face you. His expression is thoughtful, with a slight curiousity on the bottom of his eyes.
”Could it be... That you care about me as a friend?”
You gulp, and he notices that. But you can't deny it. Lying to him wasn't something you could do, anyway.
”...It could.”
His face brightens.
You can't take it back now.
Malleus Draconia. 💚
— His grandmother chose the fairest, the strongest fae to the role of his sworn protector, of course. She loves him, she wants to make sure he is safe, all the time;
— Malleus was a quite likeable person, and you grow fond of him in an instant, promising yourself to keep him safe all the time;
— But who would've thought that it is not murder attempts that you will ought to protect him, but evil words of his peers?;
— Watching him being lonely, mistreated and misunderstood made you sick. More than anything in the world, you want Malleus to be happy and fit in the society, but it is a hard task, even for you;
— Unlike Kalim, he doesn't call you friend, but he really wants too. He is too shy, and fears that he mistook your responsibility as a guardian as kindness.
”Please, be careful, my prince,” you mutter, eyes fixated on Malleus's back as he works on making gargoyle, working with a stone and carved knife. “You put too much strength, and it can hurt you.”
Malleus sighs, but slows down as you asked him to. Your shoulders relax, and contained with his pace, you return to reading a book you brought with you.
”I am fae, lady Y/n,” he says. ”Just as you, I am quite immortal and very hard to hurt. You shouldn't be worried about little scratches.”
You are aware that Malleus will not die from a single cut. Yet, you are genuinely concerned about his state in every possible way, starting with physical well-being, and finishing with mental one.
”Perhaps,” you agree reluctantly. ”But, my prince, I care about you deeply. Not just as your sworn protector, but as a... Ah, how Lilia says that? A part of the family, right. You are a part of my family, my prince. It is only natural for me to— Oh! My prince!”
You can't even finish your sentence as the stone cracks in two pieces from careless, too nervous, hit from Malleus. You run to him, so worried, instantly taking his bleeding hand in your own, that can't notice the redness of his cheeks.
”Family...” He whispers.
”I told you to be careful!” You hiss, completely forgetting about subordination. “Ugh...”
Yet, he manages to give you a little smile.
Now, he knows more.
Leona Kingscholar. 🧡
— As a second to the throne, Leona might or might not be in danger all the time, and, of course, Farena found him a sworn protector eventually. In fact, he found a kid, to grow up around Leona as his guard;
— In the childhood, he always fought between an urge to send you away and humiliate, and to talk with you about his interests, because no one cared about him;
— But the fact that it is your job to be around him, made him to stop most of the time. He couldn't consider your interest in him as a sincere one;
— It didn't get better later. Quite opposite. When both of you became a part of NRC, he dismissed you completely, telling you that from now, his only servant is Ruggie;
— You felt betrayed. Not just because you was replaced, and it was your only job, but because you genuinely cared about him all these years, despite everything.
”Huh?” Leona glances at a fancy box on his table. ”Ruggie, whose gift is that?”
His birthday was a mess—in a good way—and he spent a lot of time on accepting gifts from his mates and other housewardens. But just as he thought that he finished, he finds another one! Ugh. Just his luck.
”Oh... It is from Y/n.”
Leona frowns.
You hardly speak nowadays, and though he misses you—it is hard not to, when both of you were together for decades—he will never admit that aloud. You stopped trying to contact him too, after he ignored you fully a three times. Which is fair, but, maybe, if you pushed harder, he would gave up...
”Why would she gift me something?” He mutters, hands coming to unwrap it.
It takes from him some time to understand what you got on his birthday.
A self-made chess set from the wood, where every single figure means something to him. But most importantly... The King one has his face on it.
His chest tightens instantly.
He misses you. He really does.
When the postcard falls out of the box, he loses it completely.
It is an old photo of both of you, still as a kids. It has you, smiling softly as you do Leona's little braids, who is settled between your legs, looking drowsy.
It makes him smile instinctively.
«To my king, and to my prince. But most importantly, to my first friend, and to the kid, who loved taking care of his mother's garden. Happy birthday, Leona Kingscholar. May you will be always happy.»
He presses a postcard to his chest.
Your birthday is in three weeks. And Leona knows what he is going to gift you this year. He only hopes you will accept him back.
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osarina · 7 months
Text
ᡣ𐭩 ALWAYS!
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: taking care of a certain suicidal detective is thankless work—or so, that's what everyone says at least, including dazai himself, but you're not as convinced. (wordcount: 1.8k; sfw, mentions of dazai's struggles w depression & self-care; fem!reader)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: dazaiiiii <3
Dazai chronically neglects his physical health.
You don't know if it's on purpose or not, you don't think it really matters either way, although some of your coworkers beg to differ in the way that they chide you for "encouraging" his behavior when you go out of your way to take care of him when he refuses to do so himself. Kunikida thinks that he’ll never learn to take care of himself if he constantly has you there as a fallback, but you think it's a bit ridiculous to not extend a hand to someone who is clearly struggling. You know Kunikida means well for Dazai, and he often goes out of his way himself to help the man in his own ways, but sometimes it's not as simple as having to "learn to take care of yourself" and you fear that if no one's there to set him straight when he starts to disregard his health, it'll just turn into another suicide attempt and you'll all be scrambling to help him when his body gives in because it's too weak to sustain itself. 
Sometimes, he neglects himself in major ways. Frequently, you catch him going all day without eating, sometimes days if you don’t notice it right away, all because he claims that he’s not hungry. He rarely cleans his wounds properly after missions and they end up getting infected, and that’s always a mess because then he starts whining about "this type of death being too painful" and Yosano has to spend hours treating him.
Days like today, he neglects himself in minor ways—ways that he thinks he can get away with because no one cares enough to scold him over every little thing.
No one except you, at least.
It’s bitterly cold outside, the wind is harsh and dry, and the heat in the office has utterly failed. Usually, the president would let you guys go back to the dorms rather than let you suffer in the cold, but the case the office is handling is time-sensitive, and you need to at least set up the preparations for the infiltration mission that’s going to take place in a few days. 
Dazai is late, of course, and Kunikida is even more irritated than usual because if all hands were on deck for this, you’d all be able to head back to the dorm earlier. You’re a bit annoyed too, honestly, because your fingers are freezing and your nose is cold, but you figure that Dazai is going to get enough shit from Kunikida anyway.
The door to the office cracks open—speak of the devil, you think to yourself—and your eyes cut upward to where Dazai is peeking into the office, as if to see if Kunikida was waiting for him. Luckily, the president called the irate blonde and Tanizaki into his office to go over the specifics of the infiltration.
“Dazai,” you say, shooting him a flinty look. “You’re late.”
“Bella,” he tosses you a charming smile—one that never works, mind you, but he never fails to try. “I have a good excuse, you see.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” you press. “Let me hear it”
“Ha, well…” he trails off, and your expression drops when he finally steps into the office and you see he’s only wearing his thin tan trench coat.
“Dazai, what are you wearing?” you ask, appalled. You’re bundled up in your winter jacket and a scarf and you’re still freezing—and you’ve worn Dazai’s coat often enough to know that there’s absolutely zero insulation or protection from the winds. 
Dazai gives a look that’s eerily reminiscent of a dog that knows it did something bad, brown eyes just a bit too wide and the corner of his lips turned downward. He makes his way over to his desk, right next to your own, and you notice how he’s violently shivering, face bright red and lips so dry and chapped that they seem to be bleeding.
Your eye twitches in irritation, Dazai gives you a sheepish smile and then winces as his bottom lip splits and blood dribbles over his lips. 
“You’re an absolute moron,” you hiss and rise to your feet. “Sit down.”
You all but storm over to the break room, rifling through the closet to find the blanket you stored in there a while back for Kunikida when he decides to stay over at the office to finish up work. It’s fluffy, and warm, and entirely not meant for Dazai’s idiocy but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Yosano gives you an amused look when she sees you gathering the blanket in your arms as she passes by the break room. 
“You know, I bet he does this just because he likes when you fuss over him,” she says offhandedly, leaning against the doorframe as she watches you kick the closet door back shut.
“Well, it’s either fussing over him or letting him go off and get himself killed,” you scowl, making your way out of the break room back toward Dazai, who’s sitting dutifully where you left him.
“That’s so unfair,” Ranpo immediately complains. “I asked for the blanket earlier and you said no, you can’t just give it to Dazai because he’s your boyfriend.” 
“First of all, I can give my blanket to whoever I want, maybe you shouldn’t have stolen my tootsie rolls, Ranpo,” you say, ignoring the way Ranpo raises his chin indignantly. “Second of all, Dazai is not my boyfriend, he is just incompetent at life.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Ranpo scoffs. “The day you two get together is the day the entire office can finally be at peace. We’re sick of the pining.”
You gape, picking up a stray desktop tape and flinging it at Ranpo’s head. Ranpo dodges with a cackle, letting it soar past him and into the wall. You glare at him and return your attention to Dazai, not even saying a word as you bundle the fluffy blanket around him until it’s fully covering his thin, shivering form. 
You notice that his neck is still uncovered, both skin and bandages visible—red and frigid from the wind outside. Brows knit together, you unwrap your scarf from your neck and wrap it around his neck neatly.
You think it’s a bit cute the way he’s staring up at you, bundled in thick blankets and your scarf, but you’ll never admit that.
You frown as your eyes dart down to his chapped, bleeding lips. You dab at the wet blood with a tissue before letting out a sharp sigh, wandering back over to your desk and grabbing your lip balm from your drawer. You take a step closer to Dazai again, he watches curiously as you reach out to tilt his head up.
The skin of his cheek is cold beneath your fingers and you stroke it absently, trying to warm it up a bit, before you bring the lip balm up to your lips, biting the cap to take it off before dropping it back down in your hand and placing it in your pocket. 
Dazai is uncharacteristically quiet as he watches you bring the lip balm up to his lips. You trace the outline of his lips with the balm, gentle over where they had cracked from dryness and the cold. You can feel his warm breath against your hand and you try to ignore his proximity because no, Dazai is not your boyfriend, but sometimes you wish he is—for all of his quirks and as much as he frustrates you, you care for him desperately. 
And when he’s like this, pliant under under your touch as he lets you take care of him, watching you with wide eyes filled with an indecipherable, adoring emotion… You feel it all the more intensely.
Your touch lingers for a moment as you finish coating his lips with the lip balm before you finally let your hands fall to your sides. 
“Not dating my ass,” Naomi snorts from across the room, still blatantly watching the two of you, as if you were some reality entertainment. You scowl at her and throw a pen in her direction, she only giggles and tosses you a wink. 
You shake your head and take a seat back down at your desk, putting your lip balm away and about to go back to working on the research for the infiltration mission. Before you can focus, Dazai scooches his chair closer to you. 
His cheeks are still flushed pink from the cold, hair tousled from the wind, and his lips are shiny from your lip balm. He leans in a bit and you raise your eyebrows a bit in amusement. 
“Yes?” you ask quietly, lips tilted up in a small smile.
Dazai doesn’t answer for a moment, his eyes are glittering in a way that you know is dangerous but you don’t move away like you probably should. Instead, you stay still as he leans in a bit more and captures your lips in a soft kiss. It’s brief and gentle, no more than two or three seconds long, and his lips are terribly chapped and tasting of your lip balm, but it has your heart stuttering in your chest and your face feeling hot. You can hear Naomi gasp in delight, clapping her hands together, Yosano let out a deafening whoop of a cat call and Ranpo cry a loud finally!
Dazai leans back—his eyes are still shining and his lips are turned up. He looks as if he’s about to say something but before he can, the door to Fukuzawa’s office slams open and Kunikida storms out of it: “You shitty waste of bandages! You’re two hours late!” 
“Not now, Kunikida!” Yosano says loudly, intercepting the man before he can rip Dazai right out of his chair. She pushes him toward the break room, throwing the two of you a grin and a wink. You shake your head a bit in amusement.
The moment is ruined, but Dazai is undeterred, finally speaking up.
“Let me take you out later, bella?” Dazai asks, voice quiet and teasing as he rests his chin on his hand, leaning on his desk as he looks over at you.
You laugh. “The only place you’re going later is back to your apartment because you’re going to be sick, Dazai.”
Dazai pouts, over-exaggerated and dramatic but then he amends, a bit more softly, “Take care of me later?”
Your smile is gentle now as you reply with: "Always.”
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month
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Any ideas for Phantom's number 1 fan? I'm so excited to see Tim and Danny run into each other and figure out OH, so this is what's going on. And also being gay cuz would either of them mind too much about being married? Hey- wait- what's this about a child-
Cut to the watchtower just freaking out full panic. Oh God, the world is gonna end. How do we fix this so the ghost king doesn't kill us all???
John Constantine would go bald from how much stress hair-pulling he was doing. They have been searching for a solid week and have yet to find out where Batman's third son went.
He left a very tiny trail across Europe, seemingly as an art thief and hired assassin. It broke Batman's eldest son's heart whenever a new clue was phoned into the Watchtower, which did not make John feel better about placing a bounty on the kid's head.
It was a neceasery but with each passing day it became clear that no one truly understod the Young Justice Robin. He seemed to always be one step ahead of everyone, and covered his tracks so well that it would have taken them months, maybe even years to follow if they hadn't been looking.
But oh, were they bloody looking.
The entire league had come together to trace Young Justice Robin's path, turning two of the main conference rooms into the center hub for comparing and connecting clues.
It looks like a conspiracy theorist's wet dream in there.
Colored yarn strung around the room, screens displaying messages and photos of cities, and multiple tired-looking league members scrambling to make heads or tails of the new personality that YJ Robin had created in every new country.
Frankl, John was slightly impressed by how much work the kid was giving them. Even the tracking spells that should have pointed in his general direction failed because his soul was not being picked up on a global search whenever they cast it.
It was almost as if the kid had left their world. John wanted to hope that it meant he went to a different planet, but he never betted on a horse with a broken leg.
YJ Robin was trying to kill the Ghost King's fiancee, and despite the guards they placed around known stationed natural portals, he managed to slip through.
It was the only thing that made sense, but it also meant they were running out of time. His contacts on the other side had caught multiple whispers that the Ghost King's army was gathering and would be ready for combat any day now.
At this point, he wasn't even sure the King would listen, even if they did manage to stop YJ Robin. Higher beings took a insult far more serious then humans did.
"Well?" He asks just to be a ass when Batman son teleports in. He gone to speak to some Ghost hunter specilists. Not that John put much stock in thier ecto-research. He perfected magic through hard work and numours deals. The thought the scientist thought they could us maths to build similar defenses were laughable.
But the league was desperate for any form of defense against the army in case they could not please the King in time.
Nightwing—even in the Batman suit, John could only see the young man in Blue struggling to keep everything together—pulled a face. "The Fenton's technology is impressive but....they seemed to really empthis that they no longer build weapons. That it wouldn't work."
"I could you that. At the most, they could detect a ghost but that's only a few second before a deadful shiver ran down your spin anyway." John huffs rolling his eyes.
"No. I think they were lying. They seemed really determined to make me believe they had no real means of harming a ghost. And get this: The Fentons dismantled the ghost portal they claimed allowed them to enter a death dimension only two days before we arrived."
Nightwing says with a tone that would have sounded strange in his blue suit. On Batman, it's just the right amount of emotionless that John has to bite his lip to stop him from reaching out and yanking the kid into a hug.
The world was too unfair to the kind-hearted folk like Nightwing.
The boy dressed as a Bat continues, blissfully unaware of how much he breaks John's heart. "They claimed it never worked and were embarrassed they kept it up for so long. I asked Oracle to check their online presence, and they read a lot of articles that speculated what the Justice League was up to days before they tore it down."
Now, John frowned in thought instead of disapproval. He highly doubted those hacks had made an actual portal to the Infinite Realms but they had boasted about it for three full years on their website.
It was the reason the Justice League even bothered to approach them. So why now, did they suddenly tear it down?
"They're trying to cover something up." John concludes watching the other nod in agreement.
The other man's jaw tightens for just a second before he adds "Or they are coving for someone."
Shit.
"Kid made it to the ghost zone, didn't he?" John swears feeling his heart drop down to his knees.
"We can gather that Young Justice Robin has made his way to the Realms and is now an active threat to humankind's survival. He needs to be taken down by any means possible," Batman declares, his voice like breaking glass. It's sharp and cutting, like the shreds of whatever heart was left in Richard Grayson.
John wonders if Bruce knows his son has broken from wherever his soul rests.
"That would explain the army that has gathered under the Ghost King banner," John grumbles, hands twitching for nicotine. "My sources said they are all gathered and practically ready to march."
"Do you know how long we have before they are here?" Batman asks walking into the conference room and grabbing the attention of every gathered hero with one hand motion.
Everyone tenses in a way that could make the weakest of them choke. They know what it means.
A level ten threat will arrive.
They failed to stop the Third Robin. He managed to spend months doing whatever he pleased, and now that the League was paying attention, it was far too late.
Many of them would not survive the upcoming battle. Many of them who did would lose so many loved ones that it would be hard to decide if they should spend the last few hours on the battlefield or in the arms of their families.
Life, as they know, may come to an end. They could become the next Krypton. Somewhere in the crowd, Kara falls to her knees, sobbing and babbling to Roa, begging for her not to live through her planet's destruction again.
A few of the youngest members start to sob along side her.
Wonder Woman, who was standing next to Superman and Martian man hunter, clears her throat. Her eyes are as hard as steel, her stance unwavering under the pressure of hundreds of pairs of eyes that land on her, and when she speaks, it's like the banging of a drum.
"Warriors prepare for combat. We are at War."
__________________________________________________________
Tim doesn't think when he lands.
He scrambles to his feet, and rushes away from the portal as fast as he can, hoping to put as much distance as possible between himself and the Yetis.
His feet fall into the mud, splashing and nearly tripping him over. It darkens out, and there are no cars in sight, but the smell is familiar, and the feeling of the air is welcome.
Before Gotham stands in all her grey dangerous glory, just over a few hills. He is far from the city, on the outside of Crime Alley, he thinks, but he can see the Bat symbol flowing proudly in the sky, can make out Wayne Headquarters, his Nest, and Babs' Clocktower, and it's so amazing to finally be home.
He pushes his legs to go faster, climbing up the hills into the highway. The streetlight flicker as he rushes by, unafriad of coming trafic. No one goes this way anymore. Not since they turned it into a dead end long before Bruce's parents died.
There are patches of broken road pieces where grass and weeds are growing through, his feet slap against the multiple holes, ruining his momentum but Tim can hardly care.
Tim knows how to find Bruce now.
He can help bring him back from the timeline through the various clues his father figure has been able to leave over his adventures. Tim is so close now, he can actually see the finish line.
He just needs to get to the Cave- when Jason and the Demon are not there, preferably. Maybe Alfred would let him in. The old man had always had a soft spot for Tim- and he could build the machine he needed.
That's if he doesn't build it in his Nest.
Tim runs faster, feeling his lungs and legs burn. He doesn't pay it any mind. The time with the Yeti has made him stronger, likely due to the hours of soaking in some private reserve of Lazarus Pit, so he is going at a faster speed.
One that he had never been able to reach before. He was nothing like a speedster or even on his Red Bird, but damn if it isn't exciting to think he may be able to outpace Jason now.
As he approaches, the city becomes more prominent, shimmering in a faint green glow, as if welcoming him home. Tim's face breaks into a smile when he enters Crime Alley, passing the city limits. In Bruce's city, he is safe from Ra because even without Batman, the city has always shielded them from the Ghuls.
Bruce will be back tomorrow, here in the shadows of Gotham's darkness, protecting everyone, and Tim will finally be able to rest. Months of invading the Justice League, working with the League of Assiasn, the Spiders, and his own doubts were finally going to be behind him.
So close. So very close he could taste it.
A scream cuts through the air.
Tim slides to a stop, feet splashing against the puddles of dirty water he hadn't noticed, swinging his head in the direction it came from. Every part of him wants to ignore it because he has to focus on getting Bruce. He does, but the fear in that woman's voice is too thick to ignore.
He glances back to his Nest, torn between his duty and his heart, biting his lip, but a young whimper- a child likely- makes the choice for him. Tim changes directions, going into the alley and coming across a family of three in the middle of being mugged.
It's quick work to get behind the man waving the gun, silent as the shadows, he blends in to mask his presense. He stricks just as the fool pulls the triger, the loud bang echoing in the small space.
The woman screams again, this time louder, with far more fright in her voice, as the boy bursts into tears.
Thankfully, Tim had knocked off his aim, and the bullet bounced off the brick near the man- likely the father- who was standing in front of a frightened woman and small child in what could only be an attempt to protect them.
The brick shatters to peices as Tim reels back his fists, bringing them down in three swift but brutal punches and the gunman hits the ground with a loud thump.
He hadn't even had time to scream.
Tim huffs above him, and the large amount of running finally catches up to him. It's been a long time since he was so out of breath, though sprinting at full force for a solid nearly fifty minutes was a good enough reason.
"Is everyone alright?" Tim pants out, shaking out his hand in a showy way. After all, he wasn't wearing a mask, and right now, this needed to look like Timothy Drake got a lucky burst of adrenaline.
"Yes." The man breathes, sounding shocked. "Yes, we're fine. Thanks to you. Thank you so much, you saved our lives."
"Don't mention it. I'm glad I was in the right place at the right time." Tim looks up at him, twisting his face into the perfect meek civilian persona Timothy Drake is known for, and then feels all the blood drain from his face.
At that moment, he realizes two things.
One, Gotham was many shades of depressing but it was never green. Espcailly glowing green but while he had been runing he had swon he saw it shifted to sit behind a filter that made it appear as such.
And Two, Bruce looked a aweful lot like his father.
"Oh my boy." Thomas Wayne says, wrapping his arm around Martha and little Bruce Wayne's. He sends Tim another grateful warm smile. "I don't think you understand just what you've done here."
No, Tim thinks faintly I really don't think I do.
_____________________________________________________________
Somewhere in the far future, Danny Fenton wonders why his portal-making skill has stopped working. He used it regularly as his search and rescue means but ever since Robin fell into his arms half dead he had not been able to activeate it.
It was almost like it was stolen from him.
If only his parents hadn't dismantled the portal. He could ask Frostbite to check him over.
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runa-falls · 1 year
Text
pornstar!moon-boys x fluffer!reader
part one: marc
a/n: some headcannons bc we filthy up in this bitch >:)
others: steven | jake | more steven
as a fluffer, it's your job to know how to keep the boys interested. each alter has their own preferences:
(NSFW 18+ under the cut)
marc: the wretched
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Marc is a self-deprecating man and the first alter you met. He's always very serious about his work, even when directors come up with ridiculous scenarios for him to act out.
At first, he refused you, convincing himself that all he needed to prep for scenes was his hand and his phone. That didn't last long. He was struggling to get through shooting days and often forced production to extend over their time. So you were called.
He didn't expect a girl like you to come onto set. You looked like a normal civilian, clothed in comfortable jeans and a tank top. You didn't look like you belonged anywhere near the porn industry.
The first session with you immediately changed his mind. You figured him out within a handful of minutes, watching closely to how he'd react to different touches and situations.
You never take your clothes off for him because that's how he likes it. There's this unspoken power dynamic that would surprise a lot of his fans as he's known for being dominant in videos. With you, he's the one who's stripped down as you climb into his lap fully clothed.
He sighs, hands gripping your waist as the rough texture of your jeans rubs against his sensitive skin. You grind down on him because you know he likes it rough and you can already feel him stiffening under you.
He's not submissive in a way where he whines or begs, he just takes whatever you'll give him. Sometimes you'll refuse his kisses, pulling back or looking away when he gets too close, too needy. It only turns him on further because he thinks he deserves it.
Other times you'll only kiss him. You'll make out with him for the full 15 minutes he has to prepare while never touching him once and he'll last the whole scene.
But his favorite sessions are when you edge him over and over again until he's physically trembling under you. He'll never admit it but he loves when you sit on his lap. He secretly craves your closeness and the intimacy that your presence brings, so when you edge him you're perched on his lap so you both have to watch as your hand pumps his cock in between your bodies.
The handjobs are nothing special, but he crumbles from your touch anyway. You've found that you can break him in mere minutes when you make him look at you, eye-to-eye.
"Look at me, baby." You purr, using your open hand to tilt his head up. His eyes are droopy and red, a product of two edging sessions right before this. Your gazes lock and he's shivering in your hold. "Come on, give it to me." You give him a teasing squeeze and he about falls over. His breaths start to speed up and you know he's getting close.
A glance at the clock says you have 4 minutes until call time.
With one more stroke you pull away.
He lets out a low grunt and his body shudders from how sensitive he is. You be a breeze could finish him off.
Maybe you went overboard... usually you only edge him once, but three times?
He'll probably be back in this room in 20 minutes from cumming too early. Dammit.
"Ok, you have like... 3 minutes. You ready?"
You've learned to be casual, to take him out of the scene as fast a possible so he can focus. He's still sitting on the armchair, trying to calm down.
"I, uh. I think I need a minute." Marc won't look at you.
Yeah, maybe three was too much.
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like-a-diamondinthesky · 10 months
Text
cocoon | k.s.m
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pairing... bf!seungmin x gn!reader tags... hurt/comfort, established relationship, angst with a happy ending!!! soft seungmin 💞 cw... crying, reader is tired and burned out, self-indulgent!
co•coon noun | a protective or comforting covering see also: kim seungmin
wc... 948 words a/n... huge credits to heather for getting me out of my writing slump HAHAHA i tried a different writing style here, let me know what you guys think!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Tears are threatening to spill out of your eyes and your hair is all disheveled from the amount of times you ran your fingers through it out of frustration. Your aching back is slouched and you just want to take a hot shower, bury yourself in the covers, and sleep all your problems away. As soon as you enter your apartment, you make a beeline for the bathroom and take a quick, steaming shower. You let the stinging drops fall from the showerhead and trail down your skin, washing the remnants of your shampoo and soap away.
Hastily, you enter your bedroom and grab Seungmin's biggest hoodie from his side of the dresser. You slip it on, wearing nothing else than your underwear, drowning yourself in a cocoon of his scent. You nestle in the soft fabric, immersing yourself in the smell of the coffee beans and vanilla lotion that you’re all too familiar with. Not long after you lie down under the covers, you hear shuffling in the living room, muffled by the closed door in between. After a short few seconds, the door creaks open and Seungmin enters the bedroom, his hair damp from his after-practice shower. One look at your red, tired, glossy eyes and he knows just how exhausted you are, so he quietly slips into bed beside you, enveloping his arms around your figure as he pulls you flush against his chest. The room falls silent for a moment, then the cork pops loose and your emotions begin to pour out.
He doesn't utter a word as the sobs violently start to escape your mouth, the heart-wrenching echoes bouncing off the walls. He runs his hands up and down your back and arms, silently soothing you as you let it all out. Once your cries gradually get less abrupt, he pulls you back a bit and tips your head up so he can look you in the eye. He holds your gaze as he brings his hands to your face and wipes the tears away with his thumb, gently caressing your cheeks. Softly, he whispers, "You're so strong, my angel. I know you can get through whatever is causing you trouble. You don't have to talk about it right now, but I’ll be right here when you're ready. Just keep pushing through."
He knows how you’ve been struggling. He takes your trembling hands from where they were resting folded in your lap. After brushing his lips against your knuckles, he brings your hands to wrap around his neck, returning his own to rest on your waist as he leans his forehead against yours. The feeling of endless hard work, endless pain, endless difficulties; he’s been there. He knows how tempting it can be to give up, however, he believes you'll persevere. Why? Because you always do, you just need a little reminder.
“You know, butterflies weren’t always beautiful,” he comments softly, causing your brows to furrow. Seungmin smiles softly as he continues, “They start off as caterpillars, which, by the way, I think look really ugly and scary.” You let out a choked giggle. “They’re all fuzzy and have too many legs for my comfort—anyway. They go through a lot of hardships and challenges as a caterpillar. Then they wrap themselves in a tight, silky cocoon, just like you right now; all wrapped up in my hoodie that’s like ten sizes too big on you.” You roll your glassy eyes, letting a few more tears streak down your cheeks. Seungmin wipes them right away. “Right, so, in that cocoon, they transform. They keep with them all their experiences, everything they’ve learned, and then they emerge as beautiful, majestic butterflies.” He presses a soft peck to your lips. “You will be that butterfly, my love. At the end of all the pain you’re facing right now, it will all be worth it. Your hard work will pay off, trust me.”
The sobs you let out are fractured, separated by your deep inhales as you slowly try to catch your breath. Seungmin is firm in consoling you because, in this time of vulnerability and weakness, he is your pillar. He maintains eye contact while he coaxes deep and steady breaths out of you, his warm hands cradling your face. When you manage to croak out a strangled, but coherent, “I’ve always liked butterflies," he pulls you back to his chest as he resumes stroking his hand over your head.
The sweet little nothings Seungmin whispers into your ears are a melodic string of comfort. He kisses your forehead as the last of your cries start to die down and you finally fall asleep in his arms. Gently, he lifts you off his lap, making sure not to break your hold on his neck. He positions your head to rest snugly on top of your pillow and he pulls the duvet tight around the two of you, making a cocoon containing your intertwined bodies.
When you wake up the next morning, Seungmin still has you protected in his grasp, your limbs wrapped together under the blanket. He jokes about how you're a bit gross for sleeping on his chest when his shirt is painted by your tears and snot. You giggle and whisper out a half-sincere apology as he peppers kisses all over your puffy eyelids. Before the two of you officially start your day, you remain nuzzled in each other’s tangled arms as the birds chirp and the sunlight peeks its way through the curtains. You tell him, “I love you, Seungmin. Thank you for being here.” And he replies, "I love you, too, dummy. You're always safe with me. Don't ever forget that, please.”
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
taglist: @kflixnet @jinnixxn @elllisaaa @captainchrisstan @laylasbunbunny @starsandrqindrops @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy
comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023
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epiicaricacy-arts · 9 months
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oh we’re still so young, desperate for attention
this was super experimental so i will talk about my process (+ clearer version) under the cut
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i’ve been looking at a lot of “messier” or more textured painting styles recently and an artist that stuck out to me is clariondeluna ! they posted a self-portrait recently that i really liked and i was super interested in the brushwork seen in their work. i love all the textures and how the shapes feel so loose yet everything is so detailed.
that’s not a method for me at all!!!! i cannot paint like that at all and the stuff i like to paint is very different to theirs. which is okay!!!! i had no intention to copy this artists style so closely like with what i tried to do in my raiden painting, i just wanted to try this style out :^)
it’s been a goal of mine to avoid over-rendering like i tend to do a lot, and i think i’ve been doing good with that recently! the mindset i’ve got going on right now is that if i find myself staring at it too hard for too long, i have to leave it and move on. if there’s still something wrong with it, i can fix it later once ive got a fresh view!
i’ve been trying a lot of things with my art this year. i always try to challenge myself with each piece, and to end the year off i wanted to be as uncomfortable as i possibly could be with this painting. i let myself draw whatever i wanted because i still wanted to enjoy it, but everything i did in this process was new, including parts of the subject matter.
i’ve never drawn a head at an angle like this, and i struggle with drawing mouths open. i don’t do bold lighting like this, and if i do, it’s not fire. i’ve never drawn fire! i also rarely work with warm colours and i hate using green, so i combined those to be my colour palette. i like working cleanly so instead of having a dozen different layers for one section, each section only had 1-2 layers for rendering. instead of clipping masks i would simply paint over things loosely and clean it up later. i never like having limbs cut off in a drawing so i had his other arm go GOD knows where. i don’t like weird patterned backgrounds so i made myself figure out how to like it!
IS THIS MY FAVOURITE PIECE OF ALL TIME. no. absolutely not. but i’m very proud of how this came out with all the challenges i put on myself. i WANTED to get better at these things and be more broad with my art, both in terms of the styles and subjects i portray.
okay let’s talk about wtf this drawing is
for those who don’t know, the design in this painting is my fatui/“Father” lyney fan design (read the design post here). the concept isnt super complicated and i don’t really have much explanation for it, but i wanted to combine the story of how lyney wanted a delusion before getting his vision, fire eating circus acts and how olympic medalists will bite their medal to prove it’s real??? don’t quote me on that i’m like 75% sure that’s a thing that happens. i don’t watch sports though so im just believing someone i heard on the internet ages ago.
anyways. i think fire eating acts are cool. and i think the fact that lyney wanted a delusion is very interesting to me. scratches my brain in the right places. and yk as a magician lyneys character revolves a lot around fooling people and creating illusions so i guess what im saying here is that lyney is trying to prove to himself that this power he’s been bestowed is real. bc his whole life his only constant has been lynette so he is trying to see if he can trust this new power. cause i guess this is an alternate universe where lyney does eventually become “Father” but he never got his vision ??? idk im not making lore for this i just wanted to dress up this funny little guy.
ok i’m done
thanks for reading
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here’s my dog
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mondaymelon · 2 years
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when they first fell in love with you. ♡
(sumeru genshin impact males x gn!reader)
written headcanon style! enjoy ✩
(a/n) might be writing a part two of this with tighnari and some other male genshin characters so please comment which characters you would like to see! thank you for reading ♡
˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚
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cyno ♡
he was never the emotional man, at least not around other people. but to you, he was just the hobby-chasing mahamatra who liked to play card games religiously.
the two of you met a long time ago, years before, during his time at the academia. The two of you had the same biology class. over the course of half a semester and more than a few group projects, you could say the two of you had grown relatively close.
close enough that cyno, being cyno, was comfortable enough to tell always tell you his most terrible jokes.
"hey. why did the biologist break up with the physicist?"
you had stared at him quizzically, not sure if this was a test or an actual question about the work, but replied anyway. "what?"
"they... had no chemistry."
"..."
"do you get it - because like chemistry is a subject of science and biologists study the science of life and we're in science class and-"
he'll never forget the way you laughed that day. the way your serious expression faded into one trying to hold back laughter, and the way your lips curved upwards instantly... he felt his heart skip a beat as you let out a quiet giggle under your breath. he didn't know why or what, but a wave of affection swept over him, almost engulfing him completely before he reeled it back, face tinted red.
"hehe, you're funny, cyno." you had told him, smiling sweetly, still struggling to mute your laughs.
"am i?" cynos crimson eyes were wide as he looked at you with a look of surprise.
"mhm!" you nodded at him, beaming. "oh, are you free after school today? we should meet up to do the homework."
cyno hid his face from you then, face burning and flushed red as he mumbled out a response. "i'm free."
"great!" you slid him a slip of paper, torn off of your biology worksheet. "i figured you should have my number. don't forget to text me, okay?"
"i won't."
and he kept his word.
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al haitham ♡
it all happened after the school announced an academia-wide field trip to the desert, quite the far trek in hindsight. you were surprised the school even agreed to it. that aside, the entire school was excited about it, especially to people who had moved from the sandy dunes to the lively rainforest in order to study at the academia.
however, al haitham, your literature class partner, had stayed silent. you glanced at him several times throughout the entire day, but his expression didn't change one bit, nor did he even look from his book.
"al haitham." you called out his name, eyes sparkling curiously. "what are you reading?"
"a comprehensive look at sumeru's last 300 years." his answer was short and quick. you whistled, impressed that he was willingly reading such a text.
"are you going on the field trip?" you questioned, wanting to ask but not wanting to annoy him.
"i see no reason not to." yet another blatant answer. he turned the page absent-mindingly, eyes trailing from sentence to sentence. you decided to let him read, not wanting to bother him more than you already had.
just then, a group of students walked into the room, bustling about loudly and chatting amongst themselves not too quietly at all. if they noticed the two of you, they certainly didn't care. they laughed and shouted some more before taking the tables next to where the two of you sat and continued to squawk about.
you caught al haitham wincing at the noise, mutely noting the fact that he had taken off his headphones. you never realized the ashen-haired man had sensitive hearing, but now a lot more things made sense- especially the fact that haitham never ate lunch, like the other students, in the cafeteria.
hesitantly, you reached up and cupped your hands over al haitham's exposed ears. "is it too loud?" you whispered as quietly as you could, hoping that al haitham wouldn't be bothered by your question.
as you glanced down at his expression, his look of astoundment startled you. his emerald eyes sparkled with a look of tenderness that you would've expected as he gazed up at you, his diamond shaped pupils staring up at you and you only.
then, so subtle you almost missed it, he whispered, face flushed:
"thank you."
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kaveh ♡
kaveh was always a friendly person, and that was certainly not an exception when it came to you. after a class, he would always burst into the room and come to walk you to your next one.
it come to a point where you would wait for him to show up after the lecture ended, purposely packing up your things slower as you scanned the door for any signs of the blonde man. and he always showed up.
always.
except, then he didn't. you waited until the students of the next hour began to come in, and then waited more until you were sure you were already late. yet, he still didn't show up. worry began gnawing at your stomach as you fidgeted through all of your classes that day, mind cloudy.
and he wasn't there the day after that, either. you missed his presence, his sunny demeanor, and his blushing reaction whenever you decided to tease him.
after about a week of the constant torture, he showed up again, grinning and raising his hand as if he was expecting a wave after your design class.
and you didn't just give him a wave. you dropped all your things instantly, eyes wide and teary, and leaped onto the man, sending both of you tumbling to the ground as you gave him the tightest hug you could manage.
underneath you, kaveh let out a shout of surprise, trying to get you off of him so he could get up, but he wouldn't budge. and he glanced down at you, confused at what had gotten you so worked up, he spotted glistening tears spilling down your face.
"wh-what's happened?" he questioned with a worried expression as he helped you up, tears still running down from your eyes. "did someone hurt you? who was it??"
"idiot..." you leaned against his figure, burying your face into his chest, not caring if you were to be late or not. "you left without a word...!"
"i-i'm sorry-!" kaveh glanced down at your figure clinging onto him, face flushed as his heart pounded so loud that he was sure you would be able to hear it. "i caught a cold..."
"don't leave me again like that, okay??"
"o-okay."
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wanderer ♡
you had known him for a long time now, you would've admitted if you had no other choice but to be truthful. but it was a hopeless thing, since never once did he ever seem to notice you - much less care about you or your wellbeing.
at least he had never outright told you that he disliked your presence. it was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.
so it was a surprise when he showed up at your doorstep, clothes and hair drenched from the relentless rain outside. he stared at the ground sheepishly, expression embarrassed as he spoke. "i... i didn't have anywhere else to go."
"oh." you had stood there for quite a bit, mouth rounded and eyes wide before returning to your senses. "you can come inside. i'll get you a towel."
the dark-haired man nodded silently, stepping outside as drops of water fell from the sides of his hat. you halted, whipping around. "leave that on the porch."
"but-"
"it's wet. it's going to be no help when we try to get you dry." seeing scaramouche's face fall, you cleared your throat. "but if you must, you can leave it in the mudroom."
"...alright."
you weren't even sure why he was sitting in your living room, a towel around him and sitting on your couch by the fireside, slowly sipping a hot mug of tea. he didn't seem to be thinking of speaking anytime soon, so you did it in his place.
"did you need something?" you questioned him after taking a long sip from your own mug.
"no, i just..." he shook his head. "can i stay here? just for a little while longer?"
the softness in his voice startled you, but you managed to give him an answer without stuttering either way. "you can stay for however long you want." at your response, you saw the male's eyes light up, along with his face flushing a bit too, an action that was not gone unnoticed.
"...i appreciate it. i want you to know that i really do. thank you."
masterlist ✩ next
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bubblebaththoughts · 9 months
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Oral
Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader
kinkmas masterlist
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warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral!fem receiving, masturbation, voyeurism
Neteyam couldn’t lie, he was always curious about you, more curious than he was spider, as the two of you were both sky people. But he figured that Na’vi males were similar to human males, but you? How did human females function? He wanted to know.
Kiri once told him that human females bleed a lot every month and he couldn’t help but wonder if that was true or if she was just messing with him.
You were his gateway to knowledge.
But as of recently, you two haven’t spent more than five minutes alone together. He would try and catch you out at the base, where you and spider would spend some time there, but you brushed him off, using any and every excuse in the book.
Neteyam called it simple curiosity. Lo’ak called it a crush.
“Next time she goes to use the bathroom just corner her.” Lo’ak suggested, lowly so you wouldn’t hear.
“No, that’s creepy.” Neteyam elbowed him in the side
“You’re never going to get her alone if you won’t even talk to her.” Lo’ak shrugged, rubbing the spot Neteyam had elbowed
“Why are you such a bother today, baby bro?” Neteyam seethed
Lo’ak put his hands up in surrender, “Whatever.”
You spotted a tree with fruit about, thirty or forty feet away, and you ran as fast as you feet could take you, it had been hours since you had eaten at this point and you would take anything.
“Lo’ak! I need help!” You yelled back
“Ah! Now is your chance bro! Go help her.” Lo’ak urged him
“Thanks bro.” Neteyam smiled back at his brother
You stood waiting, facing the tree with your back turned.
Neteyam came up behind you and picked the fruit for you.
You saw the blue hand and arm and smiled, turning back to greet Lo’ak Neteyam? “Neteyam?”
Neteyam’s heart wrenched as your smile fell.
“Is there something wrong, Tawtute?” He asked, not letting the growing frown over come his face
“No.” You grimace, “I was just expecting Lo’ak.”
“Ah, well I’m taller, better for fruit picking.” He smiled down at you
“Better for fruit picking?” You giggle, teasing his choice of words “You’re so funny Neteyam.”
You take the fruit from his hand, placing it in your bag. “Can we head back? I’m starving.”
“Yeah… me too.” Neteyam shakily whispered, his eyes trained on your hips as they swayed away from him
He could smell you from here, his mouth was watering. It was a relatively short and quiet walk back to the place you called home, it was an old botany lab that Jake and Mo’at had let you move closer to the clan.
It was definitely less of a lab now, more like your own haven that you could always retreat to. Neteyam loved to visit you in there because you didn’t have to wear that damn mask.
“Where did Lo’ak run off to anyways?” You asked
Neteyam shrugged, looking around for his baby brother, who had seemingly disappeared.
“Oh well, just me and you for today then?” You smiled up at him
“Yeah… Just me and you.” He couldn’t find it in himself to smile back down at you, not with the disgusting thoughts that ran through his mind, how could he let himself think about you like this?
Like right now, he wants to bend you over a tree root, rip off all of your tawtute clothing, and then take you to his heart’s content.
The rest of the walk to your home was mainly silent.
Neteyam had to duck through your door to get in, closing it behind him so you could take of your bulky mask. He turned around to grab one of the masks that you had saved for them, putting it around his neck and taking a small inhale of the “CO2” as you called it, before bring it back down to let it hang around his neck.
Meanwhile, you were busy cutting up the fruit he helped you pick.
Well, struggling to cut the fruit. You had a simple knife, much smaller than his, much duller than his.
He removed his own knife, scooting you out of the way and began to cut the rest of the fruit.
“I had it, you know.” You pouted up at him
“Sure you did.” He smirked down at you, finishing up the rest
He brings a piece to you, close to your face, expecting you to take it from him.
“I’m not eating from your hand, Neteyam, just give it to me.” You tried to take it from him but he held you back
“Such a violent and stubborn girl aren’t you?” Neteyam chuckled
You roll your eyes, letting him feed you the deliciously juicy fruit. The juice dribbled down your chin as you took another bite and suddenly all of Neteyam’s dirty thoughts returned.
Like how you would look with the tip of his cock in your mouth, with his cum dribbling down your chin instead of fruit juice. Or how well he just knew you would be able to take him.
He knew at this point, he was hard as a rock, but his pelvis was against your counter so you didn’t know, yet,
Neteyam cleared his throat, swiftly turning around towards the door with a strained “Sorry, I have to leave.”
You watch him in confusion as he practically ran away. Frantically you put on your mask to tell him goodbye but he was too quick. He didn’t go in the direction of the clan, so you followed him, like one does.
He was up against a tree when he stopped. Sweat very lightly covered his forehead. You had to stop yourself from gasping as he palmed his hard-on.
Quickly, his loincloth was discarded, letting his hard cock out.
Wow.
Your jaw dropped, he was so big.
The sun is setting behind the trees, and his silhouette is illuminated by the golden light, and his body is still and tense. You know what he's about to do, and you feel an odd thrill pass through you.
You see his shoulders rise and fall with each breath he takes, and you can sense the intensity of the moment.
Before you can truly process what's happening, his hands move faster, and his breathing becomes heavier. You can see his body trembling, and the tension radiating off of him is palpable.
Suddenly, a low moan escapes his lips, and it's enough to make your heart race. You can feel your own body heat rising, and a strange ache blooms in your belly.
You watch, mesmerized, as he writhes and moans in pleasure. His motions become faster and more frantic, and you can't help but be fascinated by the intensity of the experience.
When he finally reaches his peak, you watch in awe, feeling a strange combination of guilt and pleasure. You can't help but admire the beauty of the moment, and you feel strangely connected to him right now.
Suddenly, his eyes snap in your direction, he can sense you’re there, but he hasn’t exactly spotted you, yet.
Another sound makes his head snap the other way, so you took the opportunity to sneak away.
You thought you’d gone unnoticed, until you had almost reached your hime and felt a very large, sweaty hand on your shoulder.
“Sevin…” He whispered breathlessly
Your head turned back to him, almost scared to face him. “Neteyam… I-“
“Shut up.” He mumbled, pulling your back against him, he was still hard
His whole hand covered your neck, lightly choking you.
“But-“ You tried
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up, Syulang?” He rumbled
You stay silent.
“Mm, good girl.” You could hear the smile in his voice, “Walk.”
He walked you back to your home, once again ducking to get in the door. He closes it behind him, letting it air lock once again.
“Well, were you watching me?” Neteyam looked at you expectantly
“Didn’t mean to…” You mumbled, unable to meet his eyes
“Oh you didn’t mean to? Is that why you stayed and watched the whole time?” He teased, leaning in real close, definitely towering over you completely
“I, I don’t know…” You sighed
He only laughs at you, picking you up by your hips and placing you on your counter, next to the forgotten fruit.
He gets on his knees in front of you, but he’s still at a good height.
“You wanna tell me the truth?” He tilted his head up at you as he played with the button of your little shorts
“I followed you to make sure you were okay, And I, I saw that…” You explained, “It took me by surprise, I didn’t know what to do.”
He scoffed, reached up to your face and unlatching your mask from your face. Immediately he sticks his thumb in your mouth, you let him. He explores your mouth, focusing on your tongue, asking you to suck on his thumb. You comply, sucking on it gently. He couldn’t help but imagine how good you would look with his tip in your mouth.
“Such a good girl aren’t you?” He smiles
His other hand had unbuttoned your shorts, and he was beginning to pull them down.
Suddenly he’s yanked them off.
“I hate your tawtute clothes.” He mumbled. “Doesn’t show enough of you.”
He pulled at you panties gently, “I like these, very pretty and delicate, like you.”
“Mmm.” You whine
You gasp as his hands begin to roam around your inner thighs, his touch sending shivers up your spine. His palms are hot and his fingertips are gentle as he slowly spreads your legs.
A blush spreads across your entire body as his places soft kisses on both legs, leading himself to your needy pussy.
You were definitely smaller in comparison to the Na’vi women he had been with before. He used two of his fingers to separate your folds to get a better look.
Pretty and pink, definitely different from what he was used to.
He leans back in, his mouth watering as he prepares himself to finally be able to taste your sweetness.
“So good.” He growled, licking his chin before diving back in
“It is?” You ask, almost confused
“You don’t believe me?” He removed himself, looking up at you, also partially confused
You shake your head, “I- I can’t imagine it tastes good…” You doubt
“Mmm what a shame.” He shrugged, going back in, nose first.
He takes his time, lapping and flicking his tongue over every bit of your beautiful folds. You can't help but moan in pleasure as his lips and tongue explore you. Every lick sending a wave of pleasure rippling through your body.
Suddenly, an idea popped into his head, he removed his mouth from your center with a small “pop”. And reached over to take a piece of the forgotten fruit.
He brings it to your wet folds, with a mischievous smile on his face.
“W-what are you doing?” You attempt to close your legs
With a grunt, he forces them open, “Trust me.”
He slowly rubbed the fruit around your folds, making it even more slick with the fruit juice.
Neteyam separated your pink lips with his fingers and eased the fruit over your clenching hole, and he lets the tip of the fruit pop in and out.
He leans back in, lapping up your slick and the fruit’s slick. His eyes flickered to your shocked face. You were shocked about what he had done, that fact that he had done it, and that you were enjoying it.
He removes the fruit, his eyes analyzing it before bringing it to your mouth. Your eyebrows knit in concern he nodded at it to urge you to take it.
You let him feed it to you hesitantly, but you ate it.
“Believe me now?” He smirked up at you, cocking his head to the side
You moan in response.
“Mm, good.” He whispered, immediately going back to your needy pussy
His hands grasp your hips, and he moves his tongue lower. You arch your back and gasp as his tongue teases your little hole. Untouched by anyone except yourself and now him. His lips and tongue are relentless as he licks and sucks, exploring your body with expert precision.
“So sweet.” He mumbled against your slit, making you throw your head back
Your breathing quickens and your body trembles as pleasure builds inside of you. You moan and gasp as he works his way up and down your body, teasing and tasting you until you can't take it anymore.
“Neteyam!” You call out to him, your hands found his hair and you pushed his braids out of his face, making brief eye contact with him, before you threw your head back again, heaving.
The pleasure is intense and overwhelming as you reach your peak. Your body trembles and quakes as you cry out in ecstasy. The intensity of the experience is almost too much to bear.
“Doing so good.” He praised, his hands gently rubbing your shaky thighs
As your orgasm fades away, you feel yourself coming back down to reality. You open your eyes to see him smiling up at you, his eyes smoldering with desire. He looks satisfied with himself.
“Maybe I should spy on you more.” You tease
“Maybe you should.” He shrugged, though he sounded more serious than you.
His head laid on your thigh as he stared up at you. His eyes practically piercing through your soul.
“You know, now that I’ve got a taste of this sweet pussy, I can’t give it up.” He smirked up at you
You would never get tired of that cocky smirk from him.
taglist: @danniackerman @loaksslut
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