#threw away the evidence of him caring about me
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wisteria-html · 1 month ago
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Fuck him for leaving us. Fuck him for changing his name back. I can’t do this right now. I have to get back to work.
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deadsetobsessions · 11 months ago
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”
Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”
“Wait, I’m just here to-”
“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”
Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.
“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.
“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”
Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”
“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”
Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.
“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”
“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”
“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.
“So, what brings you to Gotham?”
Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”
“You go to school?”
“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”
“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”
Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?
“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”
Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?
"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"
Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"
"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"
"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."
Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."
Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."
"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.
'Careful,' Black Bat signed.
"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"
Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.
'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.
"You know sign language?"
"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."
He knew ghost-sign first, after all.
"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."
----
Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.
"You two can come back anytime."
Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.
"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."
"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"
"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."
Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.
----
"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"
Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.
"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."
"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.
"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"
"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.
"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.
"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"
"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"
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jiniretracha · 4 months ago
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ꕤ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 ‘𝟐𝟒 - 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟒 ꕤ
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Bang Chan x fem!reader: size kink
summary: Your boyfriend loves how fucking small you are compared to him.
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (m!receiving), i posted this from my phone sorry if it sucks
word count: 1.1k
kinktober masterlist // masterlist // ko-fi
Bang Chan never thought of himself as someone tall.
In fact, someone who’s 5’7’’ feet tall, shouldn’t consider himself tall at all.
But when you came into his life, that changed almost instantly for him. You were this small bundle of joy that came into his life in the form of his cute girlfriend. As he was a bulky person, a gym bro in other words, he felt huge around you. You were so tiny next to him and he thrived on it. He loved the fact that it made him feel such an enormous amount of protectiveness around you.
Chan would be by his desk at home, just answering some small emails while having you on his lap, and he’d still have enough space to do things with you on top of his legs.
It was one particular day, in which you were doing just that, you sitting on his lap while he was working.
“Babe…” you exhaled, feeling frustrated that your boyfriend wasn’t giving you enough attention, instead focusing on the stupid emails he apparently was so interested in.
“Hmm?” he just hummed.
“Can we do something else? I know you’re working. But I’m bored…” you whined, almost bouncing on his lap.
Chan chuckled and pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck before shutting his laptop.
He pulled away and sighed. “What do you want to do, darling?” he asked, turning you around with ease on his lap.
You licked your lips and gave him a sultry look that easily gave away what your intentions were. “Wanna go to the bedroom?” you whispered with a giggle as you leant forward to kiss his lips.
Chan surprised you by picking up and throwing you over your shoulder, making you yelp.
He chuckled at the sound you made and slapped your butt with his whole palm.
“Come on, babe” he smirked and, once he reached the bed, he threw you in the middle of it. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” he whispered before leaning on top of you without waiting for you to stop bouncing on the mattress.
You giggled and traced his shirtless chest with your hands, making him sigh as he kissed your mouth, lips sucking yours with lust.
Chan’s hands went to the hoodie you were wearing, which was his and it was three times your size, and threw it away, his eyes widening like plates when he discovered that it was the only thing you were wearing except for the nice white lace panties you had on sitting on your hips.
He growled while his hands enveloped your breasts, making him bite his lip at how ridiculously hot it looked that his huge ass palms looked way too big on your breasts.
He then grabbed your panties and pulled them off your legs, throwing them away on the floor without a care and second wasted.
When he was about to press his face between your legs, ready to devour the sweetness that laid there, you grabbed his hair and pulled him away, pulling him towards your face.
“Not- not now, please, I need you to fuck me” you moaned, your fingers tugging at the strands of hair. “I’ve been waiting the entire hour you had me sitting on your lap for you to just fuck me, Channie”
Chan licked his lips and let out a chuckle before ridding himself of his pants along with his boxer briefs. “Poor baby, let me give you what you want, hm?”
You nodded and moaned instantly when Chan inserted himself inside of you. “Shit, Channie, you’re so big!”
He moaned when he felt you clenching around him and even more so when he noticed the familiar bulge on your stomach. It happened every time you had sex with him. And he loved it.
He pressed his fingers over the slight but evident bulge on your stomach. “Do you feel me? Do you feel how fucking big I am, babe?”
“Y-yeah, I do” you nodded desperately.
He grabbed your legs, pulling them over his shoulder and started thrusting at an ungodly pace. “You like that?”
“Fuck, yeah, right there!” you yelled, pressing the back of your head against the pillow under it.
Chan continued thrusting for a few minutes, his mushroom tip hitting the sweet spot inside of you, before pulling away and throwing you easily into an all fours position, inserting his cock back inside of you.
Your body shook violently at the force of his thrusts. It made your toes curl at the thought of your boyfriend manhandling you into any position he wanted because of how strong and big he was.
“Ah! God, you’re so deep, Channie, shit!” you mewled, arching your back as he slid even further.
“I am, babe. Are you close?” he asked you, pressing his fingers over the bulge on your stomach once again, making your walls flutter around his veiny length.
You moaned, clenching your eyelids shut. “Y-yeah, fuck, so close!”
“Come on, baby, come around me”
You let out a scream as you creamed around his cock, making him groan at the feeling.
He pulled away from you and you scrambled around to get on your knees as he jerked himself off. You quickly replaced his hand with your mouth and he moaned at the vision of how small your mouth was compared to his cock.
“God, it barely fits in there, you slut” he chuckled as you continued to try and get him off by taking him further inside your mouth.
He didn’t need much more sucking as he soon came inside your mouth, his seed hitting the back of your throat.
He moaned in satisfaction while you cleaned your lips with your tongue. His eyes fell to you and smiled, his palm caressing your small cheek.
“I love you, baby” he murmured softly, contrasting with the roughness he had showed you earlier.
You smiled back and pressed a kiss to his palm, knowing that he was a sweetheart even after fucking you like a whore. He always made sure you knew how much he loved you.
And you wanted to let him know as well.
“I love you, too”
── .✦
taglist: @annhearttihaehe // @frequentlykit // @alexisfeliz // @jeonginsleftcheek // @yaorzu-blog // @jisunglyricist // @leeknowinggg // @ka0ila // @minghaosimp // @lixies-favorite-cookie // @yn-x-them // @chrizrizz // @madkati // @starzystay // @pancake-freckle // @velvetmoonlght // @regardsto-hell // @jaiuneamesolitaiire //
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number1jeonginstan · 1 year ago
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A/N: Ngl, this was supposed to be a drabble… Anyway, I was listening to 2nd gen K-pop while listening to this, which is so counterintuitive because I was vibing to Gee while writing some of the craziest smut I’ve written in a while. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy <333 Answers 🥟 anon's request!
Minors don't interact, 18+
Pairing: Roomate Perv!Hyunjin x Perv!afab Reader
WC: 3k (oh!)
Warnings: Pervy reader and Jinnie, unprotected sex, m!masturbation, f!masturbation, use of vibrator, call reader names (whore, slut, good girl, ect…)
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Your window cracked ever so slightly, allowing you to feel the spring breeze, but not enough to allow bugs and pollen to infiltrate your room. Your clock in the corner of your room was clicking away as the seconds passed. The only thing on your mind was what you were going to order for dinner. Before you could even shout out to your roommate, asking him what he wanted to eat, he barged into your room. The door ricocheted off the stopper causing you to look up. 
“What do you want to eat Hwang?” you asked, turning around so your back was touching your bed. He knew it was your week to order food, but that wasn’t what he was here for. “Just get whatever, I’m not picky”
Before he could even continue, you cut him off, stopping him mid-sentence, his mouth hung open.
“Dude, last time you said that you threw a 45-minute tantrum of how ‘it wasn’t what you wanted’ and made me order a whole separate dish, only for you to eat mine because you were hungry and didn’t want to wait that long.”
“Hey, if you got it right the first time, we wouldn’t have been in that situation” he huffed, jumping on your bed, causing you to lift a bit. 
He was wearing a black hoodie and some gray sweatpants, per usual. His new eyebrow piercing was right in your face as you turned to him. He chuckled, stealing your phone, and looking through the options to eat from. 
Turning around so your breasts were pushed against your bed. They were slightly spilling out from your tanktop, but it was too warm to care. You didn’t understand how your friend wasn’t burning up in his outfit, but you didn’t care enough to ask. 
“So, what are we getting to eat” you asked, trying to take your phone back from his grasp, but he stopped you. 
Damn him and his weirdly long fingers that no man should have. “I was thinking, beer and chicken? It’s simple enough and we still have some cans left over so I won’t drain your bank account” he grinned. 
You simply nodded, telling him to order it while you went to the bathroom. What you didn’t know was that wasn’t all Hyunjin did. A couple of weeks ago, when he asked to borrow your phone to send pictures of himself from a party the two of you attended with the rest of your friends, he saw pictures you took of yourself, in the cutest set he’s ever seen. 
He knows that he constantly sees you in your short clothes all the time, but something about you wearing a pink lacy set had him weak in his knees. He came twice just thinking about it, the image burned into the back of his retinas. 
He needed to see it again, so while you were doing your nighttime skincare routine, he went through your phone trying to find the photo. What he didn’t expect was there to be multiple angles and even multiple sets. He felt his cock harden in his pants, trying not to groan at the sight of you in barely anything. 
He quickly took out his phone from his hoodie pocket, making sure that you weren’t out yet, and airdropped himself the photos, so there wasn’t any evidence of what he was doing. 
He put his phone back in his pocket and exited out of your photos app just in time. You came out of the bathroom, your hair pushed back with a bunny hair band, whilst tossing one to him. “Come on, you know the drill” you giggled as he took off his hoodie, revealing his toned stomach and navel piercing.
He had gotten it with his eyebrow piercing after Jisung had dared him to. You were there for the entire thing, not expecting him to actually go through with it, but for some reason he did. It looked good though, so you weren’t going to complain. 
He eventually put on the headband, after a minute of his dramatic sighs and protests. You knew he could never say no to you. You giggled at him, realizing how silly you both looked, but not complaining. 
You pulled at him, trying to drag him off your bed so the two of you could watch a movie in the comfort of your living room. 
The layout of your apartment was a bit off. Your rooms were right next to each other, and you both had your own bathrooms and walk-in closet. Which was nice, especially due to how much money the two of you spent on clothes. 
Your living room was much smaller than others, connecting to your kitchen, but the two of you didn’t complain. It was homey and perfect for the two of you, and for the rest of your friends whenever they came over for your week’s movie night. 
You both finally made it to the living room after Jinnie complained that “your bed is too comfortable” and “How am I supposed to leave if Sergent Bingo doesn’t want me to?” 
You giggled at that, knowing how much he loved the stuffed animal that lived on your bed that he had won for you at the fair the first year of living together. 
“I think he will live, plus we can bring him with us if it means so much to you!” 
He just sighed as he got up, wrapping his arms around the stuffed bear and muttering about how Bingo didn’t appreciate being moved from his habitat. 
“You are such a big baby” you giggled, sitting on the couch next to him, wrapping a blanket around your body as you attempted to find something for the two of you to watch. 
“Am not” 
“Are too”  
Before he could rebuttal, the doorbell rang, causing you both to turn your heads. “Foods here” You got up, throwing the blanket at his face, laughing at his shocked expression. 
You got the food from the delivery man, thanking him for walking up all the steps to your apartment. “What did you order again?” you yelled from the kitchen, getting paper plates and beer cans from the fridge. 
“I got those cheese balls that you always fawn over, then just original and galbi because we both like that” 
You got back to your seat, cracking open one of the cans of beer as the two of you began to watch a K-drama that Seungmin had recommended, Move To Heaven.
Two episodes in, and the two of you were sobbing, the food was gone, and the beers that were previously in your hands were splayed across the table. 
“I can’t believe that happened to him, what did he do to deserve this?” you sobbed, hugged Hyunjin who was also on the verge of tears. 
“I mean, who kills them off the first episode, like he did not need that happening to him” he said, hugging you back. 
“I think that’s enough for today,” you said, wiping the tears off your face as you turned off the TV. Hyunjin threw away all the boxes and plates as you collected the blankets, folding them and putting them away in the storage closet next to the living room. 
“Good night, sleep tight!” you said to Hyunjin as he began walking to his room. He bid you a good night as well, laughing at the way you were holding Sergent Bingo above your head as you entered your room. 
Little did either of you know that you were in fact not sleeping tight.
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You had taken out the vibrator your friend had gifted to you for your birthday, making sure it was fully charged before pressing it against your clit. It was small, but it did the job perfectly, always leaving you satisfied. 
You usually never got off when Hyunjin was home, but you had been so pent up for the last month, that you just had to do something about it. You couldn’t wait any longer, you removed your shorts and underwear in one go and began to tease your slit. 
You could feel the cool air hitting your legs and cunt, the small hairs on your legs sticking up at the sensation, but you ignored it, the only thing on your mind being Hyunjin. 
The way he looked today, the way he smelt. You would think a grown man wearing a bunny headband couldn’t be hot, but you were wrong. The way he licked his fingers, trying to get the sauce off them, all you could imagine if that was how he would eat you out.
Would he suck on your clit like he did his fingers, how would they feel inside you? You thought back to his grey sweatpants, the way you could see the imprint of his dick against them, causing you to rub your thighs in front of him. You prayed that he didn’t see you, but if he did would he help you?
You could feel yourself getting wetter at every passing moment, your finger rubbing against your clit. It wasn’t enough though, you needed more stimulation or else you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere. 
You turned on your vibrator, allowing the low hum of it to overtake your room. You began to slowly press it against your clit, low moans escaping your lips as you press it harder onto yourself. You tried to keep quiet, but it felt so fucking good, that you didn’t notice the moans escaping your lips. 
But Hyunjin noticed, he could hear each moan escaping your lips. He was devouring each one like it was a hymn. He could feel his cock getting harder, straining against his boxers and sweats, it isn’t weird that he’s hearing you right?
If he just happens to jerk off right now, it wouldn’t be weird, right? He just happened to feel the need to get off at the same time as you. It wasn’t your moans that were making him this hard. 
That’s what he kept telling himself as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and sweats. He began to languidly stroke his cock to the sounds of your moans, using the pre-cum leaking from his tip as lube. 
He slowly pulled out his phone, looking at the pictures that he had airdropped himself earlier. Were you wearing the set you had in the picture, were you lying down like this, all pretty with your legs spread out just for him? 
Would you be able to take his cock, or would you whine that it’s too much, how your tight little cunt couldn’t take it? 
His body shivered as he could feel himself getting closer, but it all stopped when he heard another broken moan escape your lips.
“Jinnie-ah” 
He couldn’t believe it, you weren’t moaning his name. It was just his imagination until he heard it again. The whimper that escaped your lips as you moaned out his name. 
“Hyunjin, fuckkk” 
His body went rigid, he quickly got up, dressed himself, and pressed his ear against your shared wall. He needed to hear you say his name again. He had to make sure it was his name you were moaning. 
You couldn’t cum, it wasn’t enough, no matter how much you tried. You were so pent up, you needed to cum, but you just couldn’t, so you began crying. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to fuck yourself with your fingers as your vibrator was still attacking your clit, but it wasn’t enough. 
That was til you heard your door creak open, there you saw Hyunjin. You tried to cover your body as fast as you could, but he didn’t let you, ripping your blanket off your body, leaving you in just your tank top. 
“Such a fucking whore, moaning my name. You were just begging for me to hear you, right baby? Poor little thing can’t cum by herself, she needs my fingers, doesn’t she?”  
You just nodded, no longer feeling ashamed, feeling the need to cum. “It’s okay baby, I’m here to help. Sometimes whores can’t get off by themselves, that’s why you need me”
He got on top of you, his knees pressed into your bed, trapping your thighs between them. He kissed your lips, nibbling at your bottom lip before moving his lips down to your neck, sucking at your skin. 
“Who do you need baby?” he asked, removing his lips from your neck, running his finger against your slit, feeling how wet you were.
“Need you” you whined underneath him as his finger pressed against your clit. “Then why were you using this instead of coming to me?” he asked, holding up your vibrator. 
“Is this better than me?” he asked, pressing his finger against your clit, causing you to moan. “Come on baby, you can’t be this dumb?” He asked you again, slapping your face slightly, sticking his thumb in your mouth, causing you to suck. 
“It’s okay, I can make you cum like the whore you are” he chuckled before taking his finger out of your mouth and began to finger your hole. “Fuck you are so tight” 
“Mhm, only for you Jinnie” you moaned as he began to thrust his fingers faster into you, adding another one. Your walls were clenching around him. “Look at you, so close to cumming. Can’t believe you were using this flimsy little thing. Should we see if it really works?” 
Before you could even comprehend what was going on, he turned on your vibrator, pressing it against your clit. 
“FUCK!” you moaned, you felt like you were so close to cumming, it only took Hyunjin another curl of his fingers in your cunt to make you cum around his fingers. Your body was convulsing around him, your thighs enclasping his hands. 
“Ah ah, you are going to take my cock baby. Why do I think I prepped you? Moaning my name like the fucking slut you are. You are the one who caused this” he whispered into your ear while dragging your hand to his pants, allowing you to feel how hard his cock was for you.
He flipped you around while pulling down his own boxers and sweats, throwing them somewhere in your room. You took a look behind you to see his cock, and your jaw dropped. He was huge in length, not as much in girth, but his cock was so pretty. 
His tip was pink and leaking precum while he had multiple veins running alongside his cock. “How is that going to fit?” you whimpered, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit baby.” 
He slapped his cock on your ass before sliding the tip along your slit, causing you to moan. He lifted you by your hair, wrapping it around his hand, causing you to cry at the sharp sting. “Look at my cock baby, fuck, have never felt this fucking hard in my life. You are gonna make me feel good aren’t you baby? Going to take my cock like the good girl you are” 
“Yes, gonna take your cock, gonna take it so well” you whimpered as he pushed the tip inside of you. 
“Feels so good” you moaned as he let go of your hair, your head loling on the side of your pillow. 
“Fuck baby, barely have the tip in and you are so fucking tight. Can’t wait til I make you mine” 
He slowly began to thrust his cock into you, adding an inch at a time. But as your walls clenched around him, he lost all of his patience, thrusting his cock deep inside of you.  
He slowly took his cock out of you, leaving only the tip in, only to thrust back into you with full force. 
“You planned this didn’t you?” he asked, as he continued to pound into you. Your face was deep in your pillows, your voice muffled, so he yanked at your hair, causing you to moan.
“Speak when you are spoken you slut” he slapped your ass, causing you to moan. “You planned this didn’t you, the photos of you in your camera roll. You moaning my name so loud the entire floor could you” 
“What if I did?” you said giggling. This only enraged him more, causing him to thrust into you faster. Your hair was still in his hand, your back arched against his chest.  “Such a fucking whore, making me think I was a pervert when you orchestrated everything.” 
“Just wanted you, are you that mad at me” you whimpered as he took one of his hands to rub your clit. 
“I could never be mad at you baby, you know that” he kissed your neck before letting your hair go, your face falling back into the pillows. He lifted your hips a bit higher, causing you to scream out his name, which was fortunately muffled by the pillows underneath you. 
“I can feel you baby,” he said, feeling the way your walls were clamping his cock “cum for me baby, cum on my cock and take my cum like you’ve always wanted to” he said, kissing your back. 
That was all you needed to cum on his cock, he used one of his hands to muffle your screams, not wanting to wake everyone up. It didn’t end there though, he continued to rut into you, chasing his own high. 
“Please Jinnie, too much can’t take it anymore” you whimpered underneath him, but that didn’t stop him. He needed to cum, he needed to mark you as his. “Fuck baby, you can take it, just a little more there we go” 
He came with a moan, filling you up with cum and making you squirm underneath him. He kissed your lips before falling next to you, pushing the hair out of your face.
“I hope that was okay,” he said, looking at you a bit ashamed. 
“Okay? That was amazing, I think that’s the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life” you said, kissing his lips. “The only thing I think is not okay is Sergent Bingo, his poor innocent eyes” which caused you both you laugh. You both wrapped your arms around one another, falling asleep in each other’s embrace.
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t0yac1d · 8 months ago
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One More (H.Shinsou x Fem!Reader)
Request: Shinsou x Fem! reader (smut, p in v, stress sex, overstimulation - reader) oh and degradation towards the reader PLZ
Warnings: Smut, p in v, stress sex, overstimulation, degrading, after care
Word Count: 573
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You threw your hair back, hair sticking to your forehead and sweat trickling down your body. The room was hot and muggy, the sound of skin slapping, and your whines bounced off of the walls in Shinou's dorm room.
You tried pushing him away and getting off of him, but he held you down on his lap. His nails dug into the skin of your hips, crescent shapes forming from his grip.
"One more, just give me one more. This is what you wanted remember?"
He wasn't wrong. He was studying and very evidently stressed, but he wouldn't take breaks or even take care of himself. You could see it on his face, he needed a break, even if it was ten minutes, an hour, or more. You ended up "bothering" him about it all week.
"I- I gave you 'one m-more' a while ago.." you moaned, "You were practically throwing yourself on me all week, like a whore. I deserve more than one."
You bounced on his dick, and he thrusted up into you. His thrusts were pretty rough as were his words. You felt yourself close to another orgasm, you were so sensitive that even the slightest touch on your skin would make you whimper.
You rested your forehead on Shinsou's, the both of you panted and took a breather. Shinsou picked you up and gently placed you on his bed.
Your hands came up to your forehead and you wiped some sweat away. Shinsou rubbed light circles on your hips and you felt his dick grow inside you.
"Not again," you whined, putting your hand on his chest. "Yes again," he said, his tone was mocking and mean. "One more. Help me get rid of this stress."
He grabbed your hand and held it above your head. His strokes were slow and deep, you could feel him, like really feel him.
"Just let me use you. You'll let me, right?"
You nodded your head and let out a choked moan.
"Yeah, just let me use this slutty pussy of yours."
He looked down at where you guys met, all he could see was the way you squeezed his cock and your cum on his base from the many times he made you cum in one sitting.
Shinsou moaned in your ear, he sounded so pretty and he knew the affect it had on you.
He played with your very sensitive clit and honestly, he didn't need to do anything, you came almost immediately. Shinsou slowly pulled out and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his purple locks out his face.
He put a pair of pants on and walked out of his room to get a warm wet rag, bottle of water, and a couple of snacks for you. He came back and cleaned you up, he was extra careful and gentle, he knew how sensitive you were because of him.
Shinsou sat down next to you and rubbed your back. "Thanks for your help. I feel better now," he said, giving you a soft smile. "You need to take care of yourself more." you muttered, ridiculing him. "I mean if I get to use you every time I'm stressed, I won't listen to you from now on."
The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Shinsou leaned closer to you and whispered in your ear, "How about giving me just one more?"
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puck-luck · 4 months ago
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with a bang | nico hischier
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warnings: dom!nico hischier, choking, masturbation (fem), voyeurism-ish? you'll see. , fingering, unprotected p in v, pet names and one use of "brat", hair pulling (mmmmmm), slight use of restraints, nipple play fs, SLIGHT dumbification pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader summary: nh comes home after a loss and gets out of his head by taking fem!reader out of hers wc: 3805
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Two months ago, you got bangs. They were cute at first. When your hairdresser blew them out and styled them, the bangs looked great. When you wrapped your bangs around a curler overnight, they looked good. When you blow dried your bangs, they looked fine. Sometimes, though, you don’t want to style your bangs. You don’t want to deal with them.
Today is one of those days. You’re in the middle of doing housework on a lazy Saturday. Nico has a game in the early afternoon, so he’s not home. You’d normally go with him to hang with the other WAGs and enjoy his performance, but you’ve been putting off a deep clean of the bathroom for weeks and if you don’t do it now, you know you never will.
At first, you tied your hair back into a ponytail, but your bangs came loose and have been tickling your skin while you scrub at the tiles. Gradually, you became more and more frustrated and overstimulated with the strands of hair. You want them gone.
Your temporary solution, which turned out to work well, was to separate your hair and retie it into pigtails. Your hair hasn’t moved since you threw it up into these matching clumps of hair and you’ve been able to scrub the tiles clean. You were even so satisfied with that that you’ve moved onto the kitchen.
You deep cleaned the oven. You deep cleaned the fridge. You’re cleaning all the counters now. You don’t realize how much time has passed until Nico returns home after the game.
You’re wiping at a particularly tough spot on the counter, your arm aching from how much it’s been working today, when Nico wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in the side of your neck.
It makes you jump. You’re wearing headphones, so you hadn’t heard him come in. You take one of the headphones out of your ears and slip it into the pocket of your sweats. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” you greet. “How was the game?”
“We lost,” Nico replies, frown evident in his voice. 
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say. “You’ll get them next time, baby.”
“Don’t want to think about it.” Nico smooths a hand down your front, toying with the string of your sweatpants. “Can I take care of you?”
After so much time together, you know exactly what Nico means. Sometimes, after disappointing games, Nico has to get out of his head. There’s no better way for him to do that than to channel his disappointment and anger into his infinite drive to make you come. He uses his negative feelings to channel a headspace where he’s entirely in charge of what happens. He gets out of his head by taking you out of yours– by taking care of you and making you submit to him completely.
“Can I finish the counters first?” You ask, turning in his arms so that you can face him. “You know how I get about not finishing something I’ve started. It would bother me all evening.”
Nico smiles softly, nodding at you with eyes full of admiration and love. “Of course, perle. Do you want help?”
You shake your head. “I have a method. I think you’d get in my way, stinkerli. Go take a long, relaxing shower, Nico. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.”
Nico scoffs at the deprecating term of endearment. “Hate it when you use my own language against me,” he complains, although he plants a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips. 
“Little stinky one,” you tease, patting his chest. 
Nico pinches your side in warning before pulling away. “You gonna dress up for me?” he asks. “That pretty lingerie I got you for your birthday?”
You smile, a pretty blush spreading over your cheeks. “Yeah, baby. I’ll wear something pretty for you.”
Nico grins, nodding at you in approval. He takes a few steps toward the bedroom. You’ve just gone back to the counter when he calls out an instruction over his shoulder. “Keep the pigtails,” Nico says. “I like those, too.”
You snort out a laugh, continuing to wipe over the counter. You clean the sink because it’s part of the counter, then you turn to clean the island. All in all, it takes about five minutes. You might be rushing a bit, eager to get into bed with your perfect boyfriend and stop thinking for the night. Nico’s “long showers” are only fifteen minutes, though, so you have to rush if you want to be pretty for him. You don’t have to touch your hair, but if you’re honest, you haven’t touched the lingerie he bought you for your birthday. It might take you a minute to make the fabric work with you the way you want it to, so once you toss your cleaning rag in the closet that houses your household laundry, you head to the bedroom to get ready.
From the back of your closet, you pull out a red negligée and the matching bralette and panties. You feel like Sabrina Carpenter. Nico loves seeing you in red– it has to be some subconscious bias towards the color. Everything he loves is red– Switzerland, the Devils… even love and sex have red connotations. Red is passion. Nico thinks that you are made for the color red, to be someone for him to love.
The set comes with thigh-high stockings. You don’t need a garter belt to wear them, which is exciting. You’d always thought that garter belts were tacky. You’re not even sure if you’ll wear one at your wedding– although Nico would probably love to do a garter belt toss. His teammates would whoop and celebrate and try to catch the thing like eager-to-marry women with a bouquet. 
After donning the outfit, you lay out on the bed. 
While waiting for Nico to get out of the shower, you stare at the door. It’s cracked open and you can see Nico’s foggy reflection in the mirror. His body is so broad and strong. He’s always been tan, but he looks even more tan than you’re used to because he’s still got traces of summer on his skin. 
Your hand drifts lower. Before you know it, you’re touching yourself. Well, barely– you’re just skimming your fingers along the hemlines of your panties, then touching the lace that adorns the fabric between your legs. You’re really just tracing the flowery design on the delicate underwear.
That’s not how Nico sees it.
“What are you doing?” Nico asks curtly when he exits the bathroom, towel wrapped lowly around his waist. Your eyes are drawn to the dark hair that connects his belly button to his groin, then to the thatch of hair between his pecs. 
Catching your mistake, you take your hand away from your core. When you entered the bedroom and got ready for Nico, you entered a binding contract with your boyfriend. Only one word can breach the contract– your safe word– and without that, Nico is going to take care of you. He’s going to render you stupid, starting now. 
You already did something punishable. You touched yourself without permission.
“It didn’t feel good,” you tell him, trying to justify your actions. 
“I don’t care if it didn’t feel good,” Nico says, just like you knew he would. “You touched what’s mine.”
“I’m sorry,” you reply with a purposeful jut of your bottom lip. Sometimes, your innocent face is enough to put Nico on a sweeter path; a path that involves drawing the thoughts out of you slowly with slow orgasm after slow orgasm rather than beating them out of you with harsh spanks to your behind, a strong hand around your throat, and degrading language. 
Not today.
“Sorry isn’t good enough.” Nico shakes his hair out, drying it with a second, smaller towel that he drops to the floor when he’s done. Then, he leaves the bedroom.
You’re left alone, confused. Is this some sort of punishment in and of itself? Being left alone after thinking that Nico would positively ravage you for disobeying the rules that you know all too well? He’s never done this before. It’s not a bad punishment, but usually Nico tells you what he’s doing before he does it. He cares, even when he’s dominating the bedroom, and that’s how he shows it. So, why did he leave without a word?
You’re just pushing yourself up into a criss-cross applesauce position on the bed when Nico comes back. He muscles through the doorway, carrying the armchair from your living room like it’s not heavy at all. Your mouth opens, shocked and incredibly turned on by the feat of strength.
“What are you doing?” You dare to ask.
Nico places the chair opposite the bed, against the wall. He drops the towel from his waist, tossing it into the corner of the bedroom, near the towel he used to dry his hair. You’re met with the delicious sight of his half-hard cock. He sits. He spreads his legs in the chair, manspreading in a way that normally acts as an invitation. You’re ready to crawl towards him when–
“Lay back,” he commands, settling his forearms on the respective arms of the chair. His hands curl over the edges, relaxing against the piece of furniture.
You scramble to obey.
Once you’re positioned adequately, Nico speaks again. “Since you want to touch yourself so badly, you have to give me a show. Then, if your performance is good enough, we’ll go back to our night. How’s that, schatzi?”
It’s– it’s hot. You want to do that for him. You hadn’t thought about it before, but you love the idea of putting on a show and touching yourself just for Nico to see. The tension affects you just as much as it would if you were bent over Nico’s knee, under his heavy hand.
You spread your legs slowly. You bring your knees up, framing Nico between your thighs. 
He keeps his dark eyes on your face, expression impassive and unreadable. There’s only a hint of challenge in the clench of his jaw and the quirk of his strong brow.
You look over him. His hair falls elegantly. He’s got a shadow of a beard growing in. You love Nico’s hair– the hair on his head, his mustache when he lets it grow, the dark hair along his arms… best yet, the fine hair on his legs. You love touching his thighs, petting over the skin there.
You’re wet, surely darkening your panties. The sun, falling in the sky, filters through the blinds and casts shadows over your body. The same is true for Nico– when you look at him, you think about a tiger stalking his prey and calculating the right moment to pounce.
Your nipples are hard, poking against your bralette. One of your hands drifts up to your chest hesitantly, like you’re testing if Nico was being serious or not. Perhaps it’s a test– he doesn’t really want you touching yourself, but he’s waiting to see if you fall for it.
He doesn’t move, even as your thumb and index finger pinch the peak through the thin fabric. You rock your hips forward slightly at the sensation, rolling them into the air. You pinch again. Your other hand finds your other nipple, mirroring the sensation in tandem until you let out a quiet moan. 
Overeager and fueled by the fact that Nico isn’t jumping in, isn’t stopping you, you palm one of your tits and knead the skin. Your head falls back, eyes closing. You’re able to imagine that it’s Nico’s fingers against you, trailing down your stomach until the pads of his fingers graze over your clit. 
But they’re not Nico’s hands touching you. They’re your own.
You leave your breasts behind to tug at the sides of your underwear, adding pressure to your core when you grind your hips up into the air. You touch yourself again, letting your palm connect with your core in a delicious pass that just isn’t satisfying enough. You’re teasing yourself, just for the show.
You blink your eyes open, finding Nico again, hoping that he’s impressed.
He hasn’t moved from his original position. He lifts his eyebrow again, as if to ask, “Really?”
You blush. You might be just as red as the lingerie that Nico chose especially for you, especially for tonight. You feel small under Nico’s gaze– he’s gigantic, a huge presence, even though he’s said absolutely nothing since your performance began. You squirm a bit under his gaze. 
The intermission is over. You go back to your show.
You inch your panties to the side, just so that you can reveal your wet slit to Nico. You want him to see how wet you are as you toy with your clit and your nipples. You bore of your nipples after a few more minutes of pinching and twisting; instead, you use that hand to trace the lines of your neck. You run your knuckles over the length of the column before allowing your fingers to splay over the front of your throat. All you do is hold your hand there. If it was Nico, he’d be squeezing.
There’s a rustle.
Nico shifts in his chair, sinking lower in the chair and tilting his head to the side. Your eyes are drawn to his cock, which has grown fully hard. He’s moved a hand from the armest so that his fingers circle the base of his shaft, holding his cock.
You’re suddenly overwhelmed by the need to take it in your mouth. Fuck, how you want him to gag you with the thick member– but your show has barely started.
You press a finger against your hole, dipping into the heat just enough that Nico can see your fingertip disappear. 
Like revenge for going farther, Nico releases his base and cups his balls, giving himself a squeeze that makes you gasp before he returns to his base. Now, he’s smirking.
“Nico,” you breathe out, bringing your hand back to your tits. 
He hums in response. It’s barely anything, but you’ll take it.
“Please,” you beg, kicking a leg out farther so that he can see the way your finger has fully slid into your pussy, how your hole hugs the digit. “Want you to touch me.”
“Then why would you do it yourself?” Nico questions. “I was so close to joining you, baby. Why weren’t you patient?”
“Please,” you repeat. You have no good answer for his questions. It just happened. You didn’t mean to touch yourself like that, without his permission. You were just looking at your pretty boyfriend and his sexy body, and then all of a sudden, your fingers were on your clit.
“Please,” Nico mocks. “If you want anything from me tonight, you’ll stop begging and give me what I want. Make yourself come.”
“Nico,” you insist.
“God, you brat,” Nico spits, his beautiful face marred with a frown. “You want me to touch you? Fine. Get on your hands and knees. Face the headboard.”
You shoot into position, rolling to your stomach and scrambling up. Your panties are still pulled to the side, showing off your glistening, and now-empty, cunt. You don’t dare look back, knowing that it will only cause you more trouble. You expect Nico to bring a hand down on the globes of your ass, making the skin just as red as the lace on top of it. 
What you don’t expect is for him to thrust two thick fingers into your heat. It knocks the wind out of you as he moves his fingers inside of you, unrelenting and pulsing. Your head dips, forehead touching the pillows below you.
Nico does another thing you don’t expect. He wraps your pigtails around his hand like a boxer’s knuckle tape and pulls your head up until your scalp is screaming in pain.
“Face the headboard,” he hisses. “Was I not clear enough, dummerli?”
You moan as his fingers bump against your g-spot, your breath hitching and breaking as he undoes you with his fingers. It’s so much better than your own touch– you can’t even imagine why you’d ever want to touch yourself when you have Nico. He’s exactly right. Nico ought to be the only thing you need.
“Answer me,” Nico commands with another tug to your hair. 
“Yes,” you say on instinct, having already forgotten the question. You’re lucky that it’s the right answer, that Nico was clear enough, because you’d be in for it if you talked back. 
“Good,” Nico replies, pulling your hair so that your back arches. He leans down and kisses the back of your head to reward you for obeying him. “Now, come all over my fingers. We have to make sure you’re nice and wet for my cock, right?”
You babble out another affirmative word or two, clenching down and rocking back against his hand. 
Nico releases your hair in order to circle his fingers around your neck, pulling you up and meeting you halfway by draping himself over your back. Your core tenses with the effort to stay in exactly the position that Nico wants you to be in, spurring your orgasm further.
“Come,” he growls in a low voice next to your ear, his fingers digging into the sides of your throat.
You let go, your pussy contracting and tightening around his fingers. Nico continues to piston his digits into your cunt, sending wild jolts through your body with every touch. He fingers you through the shocks of your orgasm, the low cries and whines that leave your lips. You turn your head towards his, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you come. Nico presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, lightly petting over your neck in a comforting motion as you come down.
“Good girl,” Nico coos. “Look at you, giving everything to me. That’s my girl. Mi ängeli.”
“Nico,” you murmur, reaching a hand around to grab at his hair. You lean back into his touch, letting him hold you up. “Your cock.”
“What about it?” Nico teases. He rolls his hips against the curve of your ass. “It’s big, huh?”
“Fuck me,” you plead, twisting the strands of his hair between your fingers. 
“Tell me you want my big cock to fill you up,” Nico says, rolling his hips again. He maneuvers you onto your back again, crowding your space and laying atop you. He kisses over your neck, rocking his cock against your dripping cunt, but never penetrating you. His hands find your wrists, gently bringing them up above your head. He presses your wrists into the pillows, shifting so that they’re confined by his left hand. With the other, he grabs his cock and guides the head through your folds over and over, nudging your clit.
You moan as his tip touches you, mixing his precum with your own slick and previous release. 
“Say it,” Nico encourages, his breath hot over the swell of your lips.
“I want your big cock to fill me up,” you reply, following his direction exactly. He doesn’t get upset with you, despite the fact that he had to ask twice. No, he’s punished you enough. Now, he wants to make you feel good.
Nico smiles, touching the tip of your nose with his before kissing you– the first time his lips have completely met yours since he returned home. He takes his time shifting into you, letting his bulbous cockhead enter you with a satisfying pop. You try to suck him in, clenching down and grinding into him, but Nico goes at his own pace. Once his cock enters you, his hand turns to your chest. 
He takes your already sensitive nipples and bullies them with touches that have you arching into his hand. He pulls keens and whimpers from you, stealing the breath from your lungs with each kiss. He consumes you completely, stealing every thought from your head and making you submit to him entirely.
It’s exactly what he needed tonight, after that loss. In moments like these, Nico feels like he’s vindicated. It’s a further confirmation of his truth– that he knows, truly knows, that if soulmates are real, you’re his. Even if soulmates aren’t real, he swears that you were made for him.
“Come,” Nico encourages from under his breath. He’s ready to shoot off, but he wants you to come first– well, for the second time.
You don’t make him wait. It’s only a few more thrusts before you shatter underneath him, rising off the bed and rocking your hips to make the most of the orgasm.
You’re fully fulfilled when Nico comes inside of you, still gripping your wrists and tweaking your nipple while his cum paints your walls white. 
Nico touches you as you both ride through your climaxes, keeping his fingers splayed along your ribcage and hip. Although your wrists have been released, you keep them fixed above your head until your breath evens out. You touch his hair again, carding your fingers through it. 
Nico kisses down your body soothingly, not trying to start anything new.
“I love this set on you,” Nico murmurs. “I was right about it looking pretty.”
“You always think I look pretty.”
“Well, I’m always right.”
Nico nibbles at your neck, making you shiver. He pulls out of your heat slowly, covering your core with the crotch of the panties. They’ll need to be washed thoroughly, but you like that his cum is trapped inside of you because of the fabric.
“You’ll have to buy me more lingerie, since you think it’s so pretty.”
Nico laughs. “Greedy girl.”
“You’ve been lacking on your sugar daddy duties lately,” you reply, smiling up at him. “I thought you liked buying me things.”
“I’ve been busy,” Nico says, defending himself. “It’s hockey season!”
“Hockey, hockey, hockey, that’s all I hear from you,” you tease.
Nico rolls his eyes and doesn’t deign you with a response, instead deciding to kiss you and wrap his arms around you. He rolls to the edge of the bed and finds his footing on the ground, lifting you and walking to the ensuite bathroom. 
He sets you down on the ground, smacking your ass gently. You stand on your tiptoes to continue kissing him, feeling bouncy and satisfied after getting his dick inside of you.
“Bathroom, baby. Then I’ll make you a late dinner, hmm?” Nico kisses the tip of your nose, his big brown eyes twinkling as he looks at you. He pats your ass again, stepping away. “I’ll try not to ruin your clean kitchen.”
“You’d better not!” You call after him as he walks away. “I worked hard on cleaning that room today!”
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note: this was inspired by me wearing pigtails at the end of the summer at the camp where i worked, and one of my guy friends came up behind me and pulled my pigtails really hard :) i don't think he understood the ramifications of that moment and i have found him slightly hot ever since :) despite not being attracted to him ever before.
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minhosbitterriver · 6 months ago
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🖤 JEALOUS TIDES ( enhypen )
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❛ These stories explore the subtle interplay of love, jealousy, and intimacy, capturing moments of tender connection and emotional depth between partners.
𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 4.8k
꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was so much fun to write, I don’t think I’ve ever really written jealousy so I hope this was okay! This piece was requested by a lovely Anon! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! Please enjoy! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: All of the members get jealous, mentions of ex boyfriends, suspicions of infidelity (that aren’t true), Y/N is drunk in Sunghoon’s piece, let me know if I missed anything!
( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )
꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!
All of the members are found below the cut!
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이희승 ── LEE HEESEUNG.
It has become a cherished ritual for you and Heeseung, this daily stop at the coffee shop on your way to work. The comforting routine of warm brews and shared smiles, the gentle exchange of who would pay each time. This morning, however, the delicate balance shifted, with Heeseung weighed down by the fatigue of a sleepless night. His best friend, caught in the throes of heartbreak after discovering his girlfriend’s infidelity, had needed Heeseung's support through the dark hours, stealing away precious moments of rest. Though he was grateful to be there for his friend, the toll was evident in the heavy lids that barely managed to stay open.
As you stepped into the familiar warmth of the coffee shop, the scent of freshly ground beans filling the air, you noticed the weariness etched into his handsome features. With a soft smile, you nudged him toward one of the small, wooden tables nestled by the window, urging him to catch up on sleep while you took care of the order. Heeseung, too tired to protest, surrendered to your suggestion, his long frame slumping into the chair as his eyelids fluttered shut.
Yet, the bustling clatter of the morning rush proved too persistent, the cacophony of conversation and clinking cups refusing to let him drift away. Resigned, Heeseung allowed his gaze to follow you instead, taking in the way you absentmindedly played with your phone while waiting in line. Even through his exhaustion, a warmth spread through him, a tender affection that softened the edges of his fatigue. You were his comfort, his constant, the one who made even the most mundane moments feel special.
But then, a shift in the atmosphere caught his attention. He noticed the slight hesitation in your step, the subtle change in your demeanor as you approached the counter. His gaze sharpened, following the line of your sight until it landed on the new cashier—a man Heeseung hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t until you threw a nervous glance in his direction that recognition dawned on him, realizing this was someone from your past, a man you had once been close to before Heeseung had come into your life.
Heeseung tensed, his posture straightening as he tried to convince himself that you could handle the situation. After all, you had always been clear about your distaste for unnecessary interference, especially when you were more than capable of managing on your own. But as he watched the cashier’s smirk stretch across his face, the arrogant tilt of his head as he spoke to you, Heeseung felt a flicker of something darker ignite within him. His blood began to simmer, each second stretching longer as the interaction dragged on. The sound of your ex’s laughter, though distant, seemed to grate against his nerves, the sight of him chuckling at something you said only fanning the flames of jealousy.
Finally, when you moved off to the side to wait for the drinks, Heeseung couldn’t remain seated any longer. With a deliberate, casual stride, he made his way over to you, sliding an arm around your shoulders with practiced ease. His lips found your cheek, lingering there in a kiss that was firmer than usual, carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. It was a claim, a subtle declaration that needed no words.
You tilted your head to look at him, amusement dancing in your eyes as you chuckled softly, understanding the silent message. Heeseung didn’t need to say anything for you to know what he was feeling, the familiar pulse of his jealousy a comfort rather than a concern. You leaned into his embrace, finding solace in the way his presence enveloped you, a silent promise that no matter who came into your life, Heeseung was the one who would stay.
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박종성 ── PARK JONGSEONG.
Jay had spent the evening crafting a perfect dinner, each detail a testament to his love for you. The table was adorned with your favorite flowers, their petals a soft blush against the polished wood. Candlelight flickered gently, casting a warm glow over the dishes he had carefully prepared—your favorite meal, made with precision and affection. He had envisioned this moment, the two of you sharing a quiet evening, the stresses of the day melting away with each bite and every shared glance.
But as the minutes ticked by, anticipation gave way to disappointment. The hands of the clock moved steadily past the agreed-upon time, and with each passing second, Jay’s heart grew heavier. This wasn’t the first time you had been late, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of foolishness for having hoped that tonight might be different. He had allowed himself to believe, just for a moment, that you might arrive on time, that the evening he had so carefully planned would unfold as he had imagined.
You had been spending more and more time away from home since starting at the new location, your dedication to your work both admirable and disheartening. Jay understood the pressures you faced, the need to prove yourself in this new role, especially after your previous boss had spoken so highly of you. Yet, understanding didn’t ease the loneliness that had crept into the corners of your shared home, filling the space where your presence used to be. And then there was the matter of the coworker you often mentioned—a man Jay had never met, yet one who seemed to occupy your thoughts even during the rare moments you spent together.
Jay knew he should trust you, that there was no reason to doubt your loyalty. But the emptiness of the house, the silence that had settled between you, made it difficult to quell the flickers of jealousy that sparked in his chest. The knowledge that this man saw you daily, worked alongside you, shared moments that Jay could no longer claim, gnawed at him, feeding the insecurities he had tried so hard to suppress.
By the time you finally walked through the door, the meal Jay had prepared was cold, the remnants of his own portion long since cleared away. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight before you—the table set so beautifully, the candles now dimmed, the flowers beginning to wilt. The realization of what you had missed, of what Jay had been hoping for, hit you all at once, and guilt washed over you in waves. You hadn’t known why Jay had confirmed the time earlier, hadn’t understood the importance he had placed on it. But now, seeing the effort he had put into making the evening special, it was clear why he would be so hurt.
Jay, despite the disappointment that still lingered, found it impossible to remain angry with you. He knew your intentions hadn’t been to neglect him, that your absence wasn’t meant to hurt. With a soft sigh, he pushed aside his feelings, choosing instead to sit with you as you ate. He asked you about your day, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy, but when you mentioned your male coworker again, the one who seemed to occupy more of your time than Jay did, he couldn’t hide the way his expression twisted into a sulk.
You didn’t miss the change in his demeanor, the way his eyes darkened slightly, his voice losing its warmth. The realization dawned slowly, the pieces falling into place as you finally understood the depth of Jay’s feelings. He wasn’t just disappointed in your lateness—he felt neglected, pushed aside by the demands of your work and the presence of this man who had become a fixture in your life.
Without hesitation, you reached across the table, taking Jay’s hand in yours. You offered him a sincere apology, your voice soft and full of regret. You explained that the coworker you had been spending so much time with was an older man, closer to your father’s age, with a family of his own—a man who was set to retire soon, planning to spend his remaining years traveling with his wife. There had never been anything to worry about, nothing that should have made Jay feel threatened or overlooked.
Hearing your words, Jay felt a wave of relief wash over him, followed by a sense of foolishness for having allowed his jealousy to fester. He looked at you, really looked at you, and saw the love and sincerity in your eyes, the way your hand held his so tightly, as if grounding him in the truth of your relationship. Without another word, he leaned across the table, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both passionate and tender, a silent promise to do better by you as you had promised to do better by him.
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심재윤 ── SIM JAEYUN.
You and Jake found yourselves navigating the crowded aisles of a bustling toy store, the colorful shelves lined with endless possibilities for your niece’s birthday gift. The weekend rush was in full swing, the noise and chaos of excited children and stressed parents a bit overwhelming for you. But Jake, ever attuned to your feelings, stayed close by your side, his presence a steady anchor in the sea of commotion. His gentle touches and reassuring words kept you grounded as the two of you deliberated over the perfect present.
After what felt like an eternity of sifting through options, you finally settled on a toy that you knew your niece would love—a bright, cheerful dollhouse complete with tiny, intricate furniture. A sense of relief washed over you as you turned to share your choice with Jake, only to find yourself face-to-face with a familiar figure from your past.
There, standing just a few feet away, was your old high school crush, the one who had once been the center of your daydreams and whispered confessions. Memories flooded back—the shy smiles, the secret glances, the promises of a future that never materialized. Jake knew all about him, of course. You’d told him about the mutual crush that had fizzled out before it had the chance to truly begin.
As you greeted your former crush and introduced him to Jake, you couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in Jake’s demeanor. Though his smile remained polite, there was an unmistakable tension in his posture, a quiet but palpable possessiveness that hadn’t been there moments before. Jake’s hand found its place on your waist, his fingers gently but firmly gripping you, as if to silently stake his claim. Even as he exchanged pleasantries with your old friend, there was a steely coolness in his gaze, a protective edge that made his thoughts as clear as day.
The conversation, though brief, carried a weight that wasn’t lost on you. You could feel Jake’s gaze on you, the way his hold tightened just slightly whenever your former crush smiled at you or mentioned something from the past. There was no mistaking the jealousy simmering beneath Jake’s calm exterior, a jealousy that spoke not of insecurity, but of his deep, unwavering affection for you.
Eventually, the interaction came to an end, and you and Jake made your way toward the checkout, the toy now safely in hand. The tension from earlier still lingered in the air between you, a quiet, unspoken thing that seemed to cling to Jake like a shadow. As you waited in line, you couldn’t resist teasing him, your fingers playfully poking his cheek.
“You’re so jealous,” you murmured, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you watched Jake’s expression shift into a pout. His lower lip jutted out slightly, the corners of his mouth tugging downward in a way that was both endearing and unmistakably pouty.
Jake’s eyes met yours, and despite his best efforts to maintain his sulk, you could see the flicker of warmth there, the way his love for you melted away any remnants of his earlier possessiveness. He huffed softly, his pout deepening as if to insist on his innocence, but you both knew the truth.
With a tender smile, you leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek—a silent reassurance that you were his, and always would be. Jake’s pout softened, his lips curving into a small, reluctant smile as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a brief but comforting embrace. The momentary jealousy faded away, leaving behind only the warmth of your shared connection, stronger and more secure than ever.
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박성훈 ── PARK SUNGHOON.
The bar was alive with a pulse of its own, the thumping bass reverberating through the packed space, and the air thick with the mingled scents of sweat, alcohol, and excitement. Sunghoon’s gaze never strayed far from you, his eyes following your every move as you danced with unbridled joy among your friends. Your laughter rang out above the music, and the way you swayed to the rhythm, lost in the moment, brought a soft smile to his lips. He had promised to keep an eye on you tonight, and even as he stepped away to fetch another drink at your request, his thoughts remained with you, ensuring your safety while you enjoyed yourself.
As Sunghoon waited at the bar, watching the bartender craft your drink, a flicker of unease settled in his chest. His attention was drawn to a man who had sidled up to you on the dance floor, his eyes filled with an intention that Sunghoon didn’t like one bit. At first, the conversation between you and this stranger seemed harmless, but it quickly became apparent that you were far too intoxicated to notice the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he inched closer and closer until he was practically invading your personal space.
Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed as he observed the man, his protective instincts flaring to life. The crowd pressed in around you, making it hard to discern where the dance ended, and where the unwelcome intrusion began. The man’s body language grew bolder, his movements suggestive as he began to grind against you, all while you remained blissfully unaware, your laughter bubbling over as you continued to chat, oblivious to the stranger’s intentions.
Without a second thought, Sunghoon abandoned his place at the bar, anger surging through him as he pushed his way through the throng of people. His only focus was on reaching you, each step fueled by the urgency to protect you from the man who had crossed an unspoken line. He shoved past countless bodies, ignoring the irritated glances and muttered complaints, until he finally wedged himself between you and the stranger, his tall frame casting a shadow over the man.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Sunghoon’s voice was cold, his words laced with a dangerous edge as he fixed the man with a glare that could cut through steel. The stranger raised his hands in a gesture of mock innocence, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips that only served to further ignite Sunghoon’s anger.
“Relax, man, we were just talking,” the man slurred, his breath reeking of alcohol. The scent hit Sunghoon like a wall, and he recoiled inwardly, a look of disgust crossing his features.
Behind him, you seemed to finally catch on to the tension, peeking around Sunghoon’s broad shoulders to see what was going on. Your fingers clutched at the hem of his shirt, seeking balance in your unsteady state, and the moment your eyes met his, Sunghoon felt a rush of protectiveness overwhelm him. The stranger’s gaze flicked between you and Sunghoon, and for a brief moment, a silent battle played out between the two men, communicated through nothing but a clash of determined stares. Eventually, the stranger relented, turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd with a dismissive shrug.
As Sunghoon turned back to you, he was met with your drunken giggles, a sound that, despite the situation, brought a smile to his face. You looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, and though your words were playful, there was a glimmer of awareness behind them. “He was such a nice guy!” you exclaimed, though your tone betrayed that you knew better, that you were fully aware the man was anything but.
Sunghoon couldn’t help the soft scoff that escaped him, rolling his eyes in amusement at your feigned innocence. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered, his hands finding their place on your hips, a protective gesture as he pulled you closer, grounding you in his presence.
You pouted up at him, poking his chest with your index finger as if trying to make a point. “You,” you accused, your voice light with teasing, “were just being jealous.”
A chuckle rumbled low in Sunghoon’s throat, his eyes softening as he looked down at you. “Yes, I was,” he admitted without hesitation, a small, tender smile playing on his lips. “I don’t like these men anywhere near my pretty baby.”
The possessiveness in his voice was tempered by the warmth of his affection, and as he held you close, the noise of the bar seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world. With Sunghoon by your side, the night felt safer, more secure, and you knew, without a doubt, that you were cherished beyond measure.
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김선우 ── KIM SEONWOO.
The restaurant was winding down, the chatter of other patrons fading as the hour grew late, yet the table filled with Seonwoo's friends remained vibrant with laughter and easy conversation. It was your first time meeting them, and the warmth of their welcome had eased the tension that had been bubbling within you all evening. As the night unfolded, you felt yourself seamlessly slipping into their tight-knit circle, a sense of belonging washing over you with every shared joke and smile. Seonwoo, ever attuned to your emotions, seemed just as pleased with how the night had turned out. He glanced at you often, his eyes brimming with affection, his hand a comforting presence on your knee beneath the table.
But there was one among them who didn’t quite fit. A newcomer, recently integrated into the group through his relationship with one of Seonwoo’s close friends, who had an air of arrogance that Seonwoo had warned you about on the way to the restaurant. Seonwoo had expressed his reservations about this guy, mentioning how he found him to be a bit too self-assured, as if he didn’t truly appreciate the incredible person he was dating. After spending most of the evening sitting directly across from him, you began to understand the source of Seonwoo’s disdain. The guy’s jokes were dull, lacking in humor, and yet, in an effort to make a good impression, you forced out a laugh, pretending to be more entertained than you actually were.
Each time you laughed, you caught Seonwoo’s reaction out of the corner of your eye. His smile would falter, his gaze sliding toward you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief that nearly made you laugh for real. The subtle squeeze of his hand on your knee, followed by a quick glance of distaste directed at the guy, only added to your amusement. Seonwoo’s unspoken commentary was as clear as day to you, and you found it difficult to suppress your growing desire to tease him just a little more.
However, your amusement quickly turned to surprise when, after you let out another forced chuckle at one of the guy’s uninspired jokes, Seonwoo suddenly turned to you, his expression now serious, his eyes narrowed with a hint of jealousy. “It wasn’t that funny,” he remarked, his tone laced with a quiet intensity that made you pause. The seriousness in his gaze deepened as he added, almost in a pout, “Please don’t feed his ego. If you want to laugh that bad, then I’ll make you laugh.”
The sudden shift in Seonwoo’s demeanor caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped you, your amusement bubbling over at the sight of your normally composed boyfriend acting so possessive. Realizing that Seonwoo wasn’t joking, you felt a surge of affection for him, and you couldn’t resist the urge to close the distance between you. Pressing your hand to his cheek, you gently turned his face toward you and planted a playful, lingering kiss on his other cheek, your lips brushing against his skin with deliberate tenderness.
“You’re my only funny guy, don’t worry,” you whispered reassuringly, your voice light and teasing, as if to soothe the jealousy simmering beneath Seonwoo’s exterior. You could feel the eyes of the group on you, and though you knew the guy across the table was likely feeling flustered, you didn’t care. Your focus was solely on Seonwoo, the warmth of your kiss lingering on his cheek, a silent promise that no one could ever take his place in your heart.
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양정원 ── YANG JUNGWON.
With your car out of commission for the past few days, Jungwon had eagerly taken on the role of your chauffeur, driving you to work in the mornings and picking you up in the evenings while your car was being repaired. It was a small favor that he was more than happy to do, especially since it meant a few extra moments spent in your company, moments he cherished more than he let on.
Today, however, was different. Jungwon had taken extra care with his appearance, freshly showered and dressed in his best, because today was your birthday, and he had meticulously planned an evening filled with fun activities to celebrate you. Instead of taking you straight to your apartment, he had something special in mind—his place, where he had a dress waiting for you, one he had carefully chosen for the surprise party he had arranged at your apartment. The thought of the surprise sent a thrill through him, anticipation bubbling beneath his calm exterior.
As he pulled up in front of your office building, Jungwon was surprised to see you already waiting for him, though what truly caught his attention was the oversized basket you were struggling to hold. It was overflowing with flowers, stuffed animals, balloons, and smaller gifts, a colorful and slightly ridiculous assortment that looked more cumbersome than anything. Despite the awkward load, you managed a bright smile and a small wave before making your way over to the car.
Jungwon wasted no time, quickly getting out to help you. He gently took the basket from your arms, his lips brushing against your cheek in a quick kiss before he shoved the basket into the backseat. He then opened the passenger door for you, waiting until you were safely seated before closing it and returning to his own side.
As he drove off, the curiosity got the better of him. He glanced at you, his voice carrying a hint of suspicion as he asked, "Who gave you that?" Even before you answered, he had a sinking feeling he knew the source of the grand gesture. There was a particular coworker of yours who had been blatantly infatuated with you for ages. No matter how often Jungwon made his presence known at your work events, clearly marking his territory as your boyfriend, this guy remained undeterred in his pursuit.
When you pursed your lips, a telltale sign that you were confirming his suspicions, Jungwon sighed, a wave of irritation washing over him. For a moment, he considered turning the car around and confronting the guy, but he held back, knowing it wouldn’t help matters and would only upset you. The gift was extravagant, an obvious attempt to outshine him, and all Jungwon wanted to do was toss the whole basket out the window. But he refrained, biting back his frustration.
“It’s lovely,” Jungwon said, though his voice betrayed the irritation he was trying to mask. You, ever perceptive, couldn’t resist mimicking his deeper tone, lowering your voice to mock his words. Your playful humor elicited a laugh from him, though the jealousy still simmered beneath the surface, not easily quelled.
Sensing his lingering unease, you reached over, threading your fingers through his hair in a gesture of affection. “You look so handsome today,” you complimented him, your voice warm and genuine, “and you smell amazing.”
The corners of Jungwon’s lips lifted into a genuine smile, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “You’re my beautiful, handsome lover,” you continued, your tone softening as you leaned closer, “the only one I think of returning to throughout my long days at work. I promise.”
Your words worked like a balm, soothing the last remnants of his jealousy. Jungwon glanced at you, his eyes softening as the truth of your affection settled in his heart. The grand gestures of others paled in comparison to the connection you shared, a bond that was far deeper and more meaningful than any extravagant gift.
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西村 力 ── NISHIMURA RIKI.
The soft glow of the TV illuminated your bedroom, casting gentle shadows as the faint dialogues of a clichéd rom-com filled the air. You and Riki, however, were far too engrossed in your own little world, huddled together with his arms wrapped snugly around you as you scrolled through TikToks on your phone. His head rested comfortably atop yours, your back pressed firmly against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.
Riki's thumbs traced idle patterns on your stomach, a subtle gesture that made you feel impossibly close to him. Every time a funny video popped up, his laughter rumbled through his chest, sending soft vibrations through you that were too contagious to resist. You found yourself smiling and chuckling along, not just at the videos but at the simple joy of being wrapped up in his warmth.
After a while, though, a notification from Instagram broke through your shared bubble of contentment — a message request from someone you didn’t know. At first, you intended to ignore it, dismissing it as just another random message. But Riki, ever the curious one, leaned over and tapped on the notification to open the chat.
The message was as tacky as they come: 'Hey beautiful, I see you’ve got a boyfriend but I promise you that I can take you places he couldn’t even dream of.' You snorted at the sheer audacity of it all, finding the entire situation laughable. But Riki wasn’t as amused. His disbelief was palpable as he scoffed, his arms tightening slightly around you.
“Who the hell is this guy?” Riki muttered, more to himself than to you, his eyes narrowing at the bold words on the screen.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying to downplay the situation, though you couldn’t help but be a little entertained by his reaction. “He must’ve followed me at some point.”
Riki scoffed again, clearly unimpressed, as he began to scroll through the guy’s profile with an intensity that made you stifle a laugh. His fingers moved with a purpose, inspecting every detail as if he could somehow glean the stranger’s intentions from the curated images on his feed.
“Do you always get messages like these?” Riki asked, incredulity lacing his voice as he zoomed in on the guy’s profile picture. “The fucking audacity of this guy.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at how seriously he was taking the whole thing. “I mean, sometimes,” you admitted, a smile tugging at your lips. “They usually happen shortly after I make a post, honestly.”
Riki’s expression darkened as he navigated back to your profile, zeroing in on your most recent post — a photo dump of your summer adventures, half of which were filled with couple photos of you and him. It was clear that you were taken, yet here was this guy, brazen enough to think he could swoop in.
“Well, I don’t like that at all,” Riki huffed, his annoyance evident as he stared at the photos. “What made that guy think he can ‘take you places I could only dream of’? What the hell, honestly?”
His irritation was both endearing and amusing, and you couldn’t help but giggle again, shifting slightly so that your chin rested on his chest. You glanced up, finally catching the full extent of the jealousy etched onto his handsome features. His brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, and there was a glint in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t taking this lightly.
Riki eventually dropped your phone onto the bed with a dismissive huff before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss that was anything but casual. It was firm, almost possessive, as if he needed to remind you — and himself — that you were his and his alone.
When he finally pulled away, you couldn’t help but laugh softly at the seriousness in his expression. “Please don’t forget you’re mine and only mine,” he said, his voice low and earnest.
You smiled, your heart swelling with affection as you reached up to cup his face. “How could I ever forget?” you whispered back, sealing your words with another kiss that left no room for doubt.
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꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @d-dilemma (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)
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🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!
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uncannydevotion · 2 months ago
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a/n: i've been thinking abt this request a lot lately so i've decided to finally write it. only took me two million years <3
includes: ticci toby, the bloody painter, x-virus, and homicidal liu.
warnings: not proofread i am writing this all in one sitting let's hope it's good, attempted murder against the reader in toby's part, angst! :jazz hands:, injuries, blood, panic attack in toby's part?? kinda?? you could call it that or you could say slender was doin some weird shit to his head, mentions of murder, mentions of past bullying, stalking, helen's kinda obsessed, unhealthy relationships, dead parents, needles, whatever the fuck cody injects into people, very morally ambiguous reader in cody's part, brief but slightly descriptive murder, randy is a warning i guess, mentions of fire, mentions of near death experiences, cigarettes, a gun, sully points a gun at reader but there's no real attempt of murder, a test to see how much i remember jeff's story cause i am Not rereading it it's 3am as im writing this.
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TICCI TOBY
You really don't know what had compelled you to go into the forest so late at night. No... no, that's a lie. You do know. You knew exactly what had brought you to this forest.
Maybe you were crazy but you could've sworn you had seen your childhood friend at the edge of the forest near the cemetery the other night. It's so stupid, you knew that.
He's been missing for years now, classified as on the run after brutally killing his father, but you just... you had to know.
That's why you had entered the forest that night. No one else would be around, but... you really should've thought ahead, honestly. You should've brought a pocket knife, or some mace, or anything.
But how were you supposed to know that you would end up getting chased through the woods by a fucking crazy guy with hatchets? You don't even know where he came from, he just threw one of the hatchets at you and narrowly missed!
Consider yourself lucky, or whatever, but he seemed fairly determined to kill you.
You hid behind a thick tree, taking a moment to catch your breath. You're not sure how deep in the forest you had gone, but the area was starting to look familiar, so you assumed that you were getting close to the cemetery connected to the town.
But he was catching up to you, and fast. It's not like you could just fight him off, he had the advantage with, y'know, the hatchets.
Quick thinking is what leads to you grabbing a fairly sturdy branch from the ground. It was heavy, but you didn't have the luxury of caring about that right now as you pressed your back against the tree, forcing yourself to steady your breathing.
The sound of tongue clicking was familiar, and it grew closer and closer. You could hear leaves and twigs being stepped on. Cautiously, you took a glance around the tree. The man's back was turned towards you, but he was looking around.
Looking for you.
You knew this was the one chance you had, so you tried to be extra quiet as you approached him, raising the branch up high and using all your strength to knock him over the head with it.
The man falls to his knees, and as soon as he dropped his hatchets, you dropped the branch and snatched the weapons away, throwing them somewhere deeper in the forest just so he wouldn't be able to use them to hurt you.
Now, you knew you should've ran. He was no longer a threat, but... the tics, the way he didn't react to the pain of getting hit over the head like you thought he would've... he seemed dizzy, sure, but he was bleeding. He wasn't clutching his head, he wasn't hissing in pain.
It was all familiar, and it reminded you of...
"Toby?" You sounded breathless, chest heaving as you stared down at him.
His head shot up at the sound of his name, and behind his cracked goggles, you can see the way his eyes widened. Even though most of his face was concealed, you could see the...
Fear? Confusion? You're not sure what emotion it was, but it was so evident in the way he recoils from you when you reach out to him.
"Toby... what-" You couldn't even get another word out before he was interrupting you.
"No! No. No. I don't kn–click–know you." His voice cracked as he spoke, and he sounded pained. Not from the injury you had given him, but... as if there were something else.
You really don't know what's happening, all you knew was that the man you had considered to be your best friend when you were younger had just tried killing you, and is acting as if he doesn't know you.
No... not acting. His confusion, the lack of recognition, it was all real.
You couldn't get another word in before he was breaking down, clutching his head as if something was screaming inside it, "I don't know you! I don't know you!"
The pure agony in his voice had you stumbling back. Clearly, your presence wasn't helping him. Guilt clawed at your insides, and even though you didn't want to leave him like this, even though you wanted to figure out what had happened all those years ago, you knew you had no choice.
You stumbled out of the forest, the sound of Toby screaming echoing around you.
And though it was faint, you swore you heard static as well.
THE BLOODY PAINTER
Being friends with Helen had been hard, even before he killed almost the entirety of his class. He rarely ever spoke to you, and half of the time you wondered if he even thought of you as his friend.
You stood up for him against people like Judy and Ban, but there was only so much you could do.
There was one memory that you always thought of, even after you had grown up. It was the night before the school's Halloween party, and you had dropped by Helen's house to get his help on picking out a costume.
He had seemed... really distracted, that night. He wasn't fully there. When you asked him if he was okay, he just...
"Promise me that you'll stay my friend, no matter what happens."
It had caught you off guard, but you had made the promise. The next night, he killed his classmates before your parents dropped you off at the school. You didn't see him after that, because your parents refused to let you associate with him.
And now, years later, something was wrong.
You had heard from Helen's mother, months ago, that he had been released from the institution he had been in, apparently no longer a danger to himself or others, but he just...
Disappeared. Cut all contact.
And shortly after his release, you heard from an old friend that Judy and Maggie, two of the few classmates that had survived the massacre, had gone missing, along with the other three survivors.
Something deep down in your gut told you that it was Helen. When the bodies of the missing had been found inside of Helen's childhood home, you just knew.
You should've gone to the police, really, but it's not like they didn't already know. There was a manhunt out for Helen the moment the bodies were found, but he was long gone.
It's not like you had to be worried or anything, right? You were in a completely different state, living in a large city. You haven't spoken to him since you were kids, and it's not like he knew where you were at, right?
Well, you were wrong, apparently.
When the stalking started, you didn't want to believe it was Helen. I mean, seriously, why would he want anything to do with you? Unless...
You didn't want to think about it, but... he had gone back and killed all the survivors of his original massacre. And... you were technically a survivor, if only because you were late to the party. He didn't plan on killing you, did he?
Though, that fear was quickly squashed when he started leaving you gifts. They were nothing major, mostly sketches of you. They weren't signed, but you knew who they were from.
The feeling of eyes on you was something you just couldn't get used to, and you swear you started seeing him when you were out in the city.
You wanted to go to a bookstore? Helen was across the street. Taking a walk in the park? You swear you saw him sitting on a bench, sketching.
It felt as if you were going insane, honestly.
You... you really should have gone to the police, you think, when you got home one night to find your roommate hanging from the ceiling, their neck slit and their blood painted all over the walls.
In your roommates blood, on your wall, a heart was painted, followed by a question mark. Was this... a love confession? Was he asking if you loved him?
When you took a step back, towards the front door, you had bumped right into him. He was on you in an instant, and his hand covered your mouth to prevent your scream from being heard by anyone.
"Shh... I'm not going to hurt you. We made a promise, remember?"
X-VIRUS
Living at an orphanage had never been easy. You still remember the day you first arrived. Your parents had both died, and you had pretty much closed yourself away from everyone, refusing to interact with any of the other kids.
The caretakers had been concerned, especially when the other kids had started picking on you for being quiet and 'weird'.
In comes Cody, a kid your age with absolutely no filter and no regard for what was considered right or wrong. To this day, you still don't know what it was about you that made him hang around, but the moment he got to the orphanage, he was by your side almost all the time.
Whenever one of the other kids messed with you, they'd always end up getting injured in some way because of Cody.
Cody was the only person you were willing to speak to, other than the caretakers. He brought you out of your shell, and made you laugh with his stupid, poor-timed jokes. You even became his nurse, essentially, patching up his wounds whenever he got into fights over you.
The day he was adopted was the worst day of your life, you think. It's the first time you cried since your parents died, and you remember clinging onto him, begging him not to leave you.
It was a pretty embarrassing memory, to be honest.
You weren't as lucky as Cody had been. No family was interested in adopting you, and you ended up aging out of the orphanage. Life never got better for you, even after you left the orphanage.
You didn't have many friends, and your coworkers all tended to avoid you because of how apathetic you were. Truth be told, you didn't have any interest in anything.
Every single day, from the moment Cody had been taken from you, was literal hell in your mind. The loneliness, the constant doubts, the self-loathing, everything. It was so much. Almost too much, at times.
But that all changed when you were walking back to your dingy apartment one night after a late shift. You lived in a fairly unsafe area, but the rent was cheap, so you couldn't complain.
Walking by an alleyway, something caught your attention.
It was cliché, honestly. You didn't care if anyone might have been in trouble, but a morbid curiosity got the better of you when you heard someone crying for help.
Taking a stroll down the alleyway, you reached the end and saw something you truly weren't expecting. A man was laying on the ground, a headwound visible while another man stood over him, fiddling with a needle and some sort of liquid you didn't recognize.
"Would you shut up? There's nobody around to hear you,"
That... that voice...
Your eyes widened, but not because you just witnessed some poor guy get injected with a suspicious liquid.
The injured man starts gasping, and foaming at the mouth. Your eyes meet, and he reaches out to you, croaking for help. You just stand there, watching as the man died.
And when you look up, you meet the gaze of the man who killed him. But you weren't scared. You should be, you knew that, but you weren't.
Cody pulls down the mask he was wearing. He doesn't seem at all surprised to see you, almost as if he knew you had been watching.
"Miss me?" He asks. He was smiling, as if he hadn't just killed someone. So many questions were swirling in your mind, but the only thing you could really focus on was the fact that Cody was here, in front of you.
For the first time in years, you smile.
"Yeah."
HOMICIDAL LIU
When a new family moved in next door with two boys close to your age, your parents had practically forced you to go over and introduce yourself to them, trying to get you to make friends.
You weren't at all interested, but you also didn't want to get in trouble, so once they had settled in, you went with them to be neighborly.
Liu and Jeff were the names of the kids. Liu was the older one, only a few months younger than you, and as mean as it was, you were definitely more interested in hanging out with Liu more than his little brother.
It's not that you hated him or anything like that, but... you were a kid, y'know? The thought of hanging out with someone younger than you, even if only by three years, was weird. It's something you felt guilty about now, as an adult, but it's not like you could change the past.
Besides, you and Liu weren't even friends. Not when you two had first met, at least.
You walked to school with him, and you had a few classes together at school, but you already had your own group of friends, and you just weren't interested in making any new ones.
It wasn't until his brother started to get bullied that you two started to develop a bond. You were one of the few people who didn't tolerate Randy's bullshit, so you never hesitated to stand up for Jeff when you were around.
Liu liked that about you.
When he had gotten arrested after falsely confessing to beating up Randy and his goons, you did your best to protect Jeff while he was gone.
To this day, you can't help but blame yourself for everything that happened. The day Jeff had been lit on fire, you had been stuck at home because of the flu. You still remember the scream of pure agony you heard from his mother next door when she got the call.
There were many things you wish you had done differently back then, but alas. Time marched forward.
As far as you knew, Liu died that night Jeff brutally killed his entire family, and you made sure to visit his grave whenever you had time to spare.
Today was one of those days. The sky was filled with clouds, and you had bought some flowers.
Everyone in town viewed the Woods family in a negative light because of the terror Jeff had caused, and still continues to cause to this day, so their graves don't get taken care of.
You do the best you can, but it's hard to prevent neighborhood kids from vandalizing the grave every other week.
But you were pleasantly surprised to find someone sitting behind Liu's tombstone, smoking a cigarette. You had thought that maybe it was an estranged family member, maybe, but as you approached, you couldn't help but notice that the scarf around their neck was eerily similar to the one Liu had gotten a few weeks before his death.
"Uhm, hello?" You call out, curious as to who this visitor could possibly be.
You did not expect for a gun to be pointed at you.
You blink, staring at the gun for a moment, too bewildered to register the fact that you should probably be scared. Hell, you didn't even have much of a chance to register the gun before you found yourself more distracted by the person holding it.
He looked... eerily familiar.
The scarf. The scars littered across his face, on his neck. They reminded you of the reports you read about the wounds Liu had sustained before dying in the hospital.
It was stupid. There's no way it's actually him. No way. He didn't even seem to recognize you. He had a fucking gun pointing at you, for crying out loud!
This was not Liu.
So why did he feel like him?
"...Liu?"
Your voice caused his gaze to change. The gun lowered slightly, his brows pinching together. And in a split second, it's as if he was a different person entirely, the way his eyes widened in recognition.
His gaze dropped to the gun that he had been pointing at you, and he looked absolutely mortified, dropping it and the cigarette he had been smoking.
"I can explain." He says, but he honestly seemed just as lost as you were.
...It was going to be a long night.
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another-goblin · 7 months ago
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I've seen a lot of interesting opinions about Dr. Ratio. Some of them I disagree with. So I decided to compile a little list of why I disagree with them. The first part will be about things that seem factually incorrect, and the second part is about things that are rather a matter of interpretation and context.
As always, I might be wrong, so feel free to correct me.
1. Things that seem factually incorrect. 
"Ratio is an egoist and does everything for attention and recognition" - I don't remember him ever saying or doing anything that would indicate that. He saved these researchers secretly and made our TB take all the credit. He later even calls himself a "supporting character". He gets angry if we ask him for an autograph.
"He doesn't care about people" - yes, if you skipped his passionate speech to Screwllum about how much he cares about people. But also, everything he does in the game is helping people (saving these researchers on Herta station, offering us his help later in the express dialogues and messages - offering us to enroll in university, participate in devates, turn the express into a weapon, later helping Aventurine with his plan, helping him to find information, and so on).
"He hasn't achieved anything in science" - the list of his scientific achievements is easily available, I wouldn't say it's nothing. But I'll also leave this here:
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Even his dedicated hater disagrees with this.
"Ratio's note did nothing to convince Aventurine to stay alive, it was all Acheron" - from how I see it, he was fully determined to end his life up until he read that note. Otherwise, why would they introduce the note at all? Why did Acheron feel the need to remind him of it?
"He never wanted to draw the gaze of Nous" and "He still wants it" - we can deduce that it isn't true from different parts of the game (he actually wanted it in the past but doesn't anymore), but that is a direct confirmation:
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(I trust Screwllum's opinion.)
"Everybody hates him in-universe" - this is interesting because I even heard this from his fans. And it might sort of feel intuitive, but I don't remember any evidence of that. He literally has an in-universe fan club. People who knew him closely talk about him warmly in his character stories. The only person I remember ever expressing any negativity towards him was some shcolar in the Simulatred Universe, but I don't think it counts. I'll talk more about his students in particular later, but short version: I don't think they hate him either.
"I hate it when he tells me 'Zero points, get out' and throws chalk at me, that's mean" - that's so weirdly specific, but I've seen it a dozen times already. And, like, why??? He tells it to his enemies, not to us. I mean, nobody's angry at Serval for electrocuting her fans with her guitar just because that's what she does in her fighting animation.
Speaking of combat voice lines, if we wait too long, most characters get irritated and try to hurry us up. Meanwhile Ratio:
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'That's okay, take your time, it's a turn-based game after all.'
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"He's physically abusive to his students, he throws chalk at them" - similar to the previous point. I don't remember any mention of him doing that. The only case of him using physical force against a (potential) student was when, as a TA, he threw away a rich asshole who tried to buy a degree. And yes, in the boring real world, I wouldn't approve of that, but in the world of the game - well done, good ridance!
"He doesn't tolerate people disagreeing with him, he thinks he's always right"
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"He's responsible for the crisis at Herta Station" - how though? I saw this opinion several times, and I'm really curious what people mean by that. Did he himself endanger these researchers by teleporting them who knows where, then faked the video from Duke Inferno, and so on? But why stop here while we're at it , maybe he also impersonated Ruan Mei, left the bug on the station, abandoned the poor cat-creatrures and drugged us with a cake?…
"He's worse than Dottore from Genshin" - technically it's a matter of opinion, but I think nobody will mind if I put it in the 'just wrong' category. But yeah, that's an opinion I've heard. I've got no idea what they meant, but it made me think, how many people did he help and save, both in the game and in his past? Probably more than most of the characters we've met so far. And he doesn't seem to discriminate, it's not 'I'll save my people'. He cured that disease for everybody's benefit, he saved Herta's researchers, he helped TB unravel the events on the station and then proceeded to pester them offering his help, he cosideres some troubled IPC executive 'his responsibility' and so on.
"He actually betrayed Aventurine" - no comments. Come on, play the game, read the dialogues.
1.5. A little intermission.
The thing that's hard to deny is that he definitely doesn't mince his words. Whether you see it as him being a rude asshole, being justifiably angry, brutally honest, sarcastic, or snarky, or showing tough love, or just being incapable of expressing himself in an adequate and socially acceptable way, it's up to you. I can understand how some people might be uncomfortable with that. I personally find it an interesting character trait. (I mean, he isn't even capable of expressing positive feelings in a normal way, what did you expect of him?):
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There is also a very interesting (but rather confusing) thing that can be missed if you are unwilling to see further than the initial shallow impression, but it is impossible to unsee once you've noticed it. He sees himself as a teacher in two very different ways. It can be missed at first because both ways are described in very similar words. These ways are: 
a teacher in a traditional sense (let's call it 'academic teacher'); 
and as something akin to a 'life coach', just helping people and making them realize that they shloud (and can) rely on themselves.
The thing is, we never see him in his 'academic teacher' role. As far as we know, he only acts this way with his university students. We never see him teaching anybody any scientific stuff, or berating people for their lack of knowledge and education. Yet he says that he considers everybody his students. But what does he mean if it's not about knowledge? He means it in the second 'life coach' meaning. Therefore, he sees literally everybody as worthy of his help and support.
BTW, I feel like his main problem as a character is that people tend to settle on the first impression they get of him and are unwilling to see further than that. Meanwhile, the game continues to explore his personality, revealing that most things about him are actually the opposite of what they might seem at first. That's why so many people think that he calls everybody idiots for being less smart than him, that he's egoistic and unfeeling, that he values knowledge above all, and so on. So if you actually have interest in him as a character, I'd encourage you to look at him more closely.
2. Now to the things that are more open to interpretation.
"He uses mean words" -to be honest, I'm not a big fan of writers making him use these words (idiots, fools, stupidity, and so on) because, first, they are usually used as just empty insults. (I'm curious whether he uses similar words in Chinese or something more nuanced). So I can understand how it can put some people off. And the second problem is that it feels like he means different things every time he uses these words. It's quite confusing. Here is a post where people helped me find different cases of him using these words; you can check it out yourself.
Let's look closer at some of these cases: 
-'While geniuses wander among the stars, the ordinary can't even trace their footsteps. Those less gifted have no choice but to walk alone, enduring a lifetime of tumbles and triumphs. But even a life marked by failure is a life worth living — it is only in moments of solitude and despair, when help is absent, that fools grasp how to pick themselves up' He seems to contrast geniuses with fools here, so fools are everybody who's not a genius. So if you are inclined to see him this way, if you squint, you can technically see it as him insulting people based on their intellectual abilities, right?… Except, he includes himself among these fools, so no:
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So it's basically 'all who are not geniuses are fools, including me'. Which is an interesting way to put it, but it definitely doesn't mean ''you are all fools for not being as smart as me''.
But he mostly uses these words when he talks about his fellow scholars:
-'First, with the headpiece on, isolated from my five senses, I can think without interference. And second, I don't have to set eyes on stupid people' - we only see him wearing the plaster head on Herta's Station, a place full of the most brilliant minds in the universe. We never see him using it again with normal people, so the word 'stupid' here can't be about people's intelligence.
There is also an interesting little detail:
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He admires her intelligence (although in a sarcastic manner) in his 'about Herta' voiceline. He doesn't wear his 'anti-stupid' mask when he's with TB or Aventurine, but he always wears it with Herta. Which is very telling, and indicates again what he means by 'stupid'.
Some other examples:
-'(…)the fools from the Guild with ambitions beyond stars should be banished from my sight and thereby mind' -'Don't invert priorities like these dolts from the guild' -'I cannot stand fools, idiots, or imbeciles. Seeing them fills me with dread. Regrettably, this space station is just like the Intelligentsia Guild — devoid of geniuses and filled with mediocrity' -'Ah, the Technology Department. Charming little place, isn't it? Madam Yabuli does possess some semblance of competence, but her subordinates? Oh, they're a riot — brimming with enthusiasm yet utterly devoid of intellect. It's as if evolution halted prematurely for them'
He is absolutely RUTHLESS when he talks about scientists, because he expects a lot from them.
So no, I don't think he'd call you an idiot for not being an A student, or having learning difficulties, or just lacking an interest in learning. He absolutely would though if you were a brilliant scientist, priveledged with great education, resources, and a personal lab, squandering your talents and funds on a useless vanity project, or hoarding potentially life-saving knowledge for yourself, to use as a commodity.
"But he does call people idiots!" - I've noticed that most of the time he uses these 'insults' he talks about some groups of people.
I could only think of 3 times when he called an individual an idiot. He calls Aventurine an idiot because he 'lost' the stones (but it doesn't count because he plays a role and pretends that he hates Aven). A scholar in an event in SU complains of Ratio calling him an idiot (I'm not sure it actually happened, it's just a story in SU).
But there is one case of him calling somebody an idiot and actually meaning it. And who is this poor victim of his terrible verbal abuse? It's himself. Whoops. (speaking of how he's supposedly full of himself and thinks that he's better than the others.)
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"He would call me an idiot because of my supposed lack of knowledge/education/intelligence" - I showed in the previous point why I think he wouldn't (he never seems to use these words to mean that).
But also consider this. During his interactions with Aventurine on Penacony Ratio mostly plays a role for Sunday, pretending that he despises Aventurine. That's why we can't draw any conclusions about his personality from most of their dialogues. But the moments when he breaks the role are extremely telling.
Let's look at one of them from the beginning. They argue; Ratio calls Aventurine an idiot for 'ruining their plan'. And then Aventurine mentions that he didn't go to school and lacks formal education. If there ever was a good time to call someone an idiot for being uneducated, that's it! That's what Sunday expects to hear (because his plan hinges on Ratio valuing knowledge above all else).
And what does he do? He fucking apologizes! Even for the role and for the sake of their plan, he can't bring himself to insult someone for being uneducated.
"He's mean to TB" - it's a matter of interpretation, but his behavior with us didn't strike me as mean or demeaning. He was just being sarcastic and snarky as always (and I understand that it's not everybody's cup of tea).
The situation was time-sensitive and precarious. We don't know how much control he had over it. He tried to make us realize what's going on as fast as possible, pretending that he himself is clueless. Because his goal was to show the recearchers that despite the presence of 2-3 geniuses on board, none of them were able to save them. If he just publicly saved everybody, it would be just another genius appearing out of nowhere and saving the day, which would go against his goals and his philosophy.
And later, our TB seems to regard him with a mix of respect and amusement (calling him Professor, asking for an autograph), no resentment here. So TB didn't think he was mean either.
"He values knowledge above all, he's obsessed with teaching people stuff, and he doesn't understand/accept that other people might have other priorities" - I'd argue that literally the opposite is true. He doesn't impose his knowledge on anybody against their will, and we never see him berate anybody for their lack of knowledge or education.
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Sunday isn't the first person to misunderstand him that badly, and he's not having it. Even though at this point in the story, his and Aventurine's plan hinges on Sunday's misunderstanding. But I think his position is very clear: pursuit of knowledge above all is a matter of petty pride.
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He says it when we ask him why he doesn't nag us about getting our act together, before a party. So basically "if learning makes you feel bad (doesn't enhance your living) then you are doing it wrong, go and have fun".
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This probably isn't considered canon, but it illustrates how he sees knowledge. Here is an analogy. If I had an apple orchard, and I thought my apples were awesome and they'd make a great gift, and you should feel free to ask me if you want some. It doesn't mean that I shove my apples into people's mouths against their will and then call them idiots and spit on them when they don't like it.
"He's a bad person because he didn't help us fight the big bug" - he knew who we are. It's not in his habit to directly involve himself where he's not needed, it would go against his philosophy ('you should count on yourself; you can do it'). It's not like he left us to die; he must have known how capable our TB is. BTW, he was still looking after us, seemingly ready to come to our help:
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Besides, currently nothing indicates that (outside of the turn-based gameplay) he's anything more than a normal human being. He would be a hindrance in a fight. 
"He's a bad teacher" - (first, here is an interesting post about this from the point of view of an actual teacher)
So yeah, it's about the 3% passing rate. Yes, it can mean that only 3% of his students end up learning something. It's possible that he's such a bumbling idiot of a teacher that he doesn't even understand how bad he is. It's possible that he's somehow still allowed to teach despite being THAT bad.
But I think it's much more possible (and consistent with his philosophy) that he just has very high standards. A 3% rate doesn't mean that only 3% know anything. Students might benefit enormously from his classes, even without passing. They still have all their valuable skills and knowledge.
But also, let's not forget that he doesn't teach children. He teaches at the university. And I don't think it's some 101 basics; it's likely something related to his research and discoveries, some extremely advanced cutting-edge stuff. So his students are already extremely well educated adults, who want to achieve more. He would probably see lowering his standards as a betrayal of his students.
"His students hate him" - I didn't get that impression. On the contrary, they seem quite interested in him (some times in really creepy ways):
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The only indication that they might have something against him is this:
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It's either a literal roll-call of actual adults who shed literal tears during his classes, or it's just students being their normal cheeky selves, being overdramatic about a strict teacher. 
An example that came to mind: I can whine about how ruthless my gym trainer is and how I couldn't walk for a week after the last leg day. And his other clients would agree. But everybody understands that it's an expression of approval, not contempt. And maybe a bit of a humble brag.
Besides, if we decide to take that post at face value, then we'll have to take this literally too, meaning that his students consider him an actual God. And I don't think it's true:
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-------------------
There are still a lot of hot takes I disagree with that I haven't mentioned, but I'm too tired. This took WAY too long. Other cases are mostly quote-mining and deliberatly taking what he says out of context, which isn't very interesting to argue against (just read the full dialogue and consider the context). And also different variations on 'he's an asshole, he hates people, he thinks he's better than others, he'd call you an idiot for this or that, he's elitist, he only values knowledge and intelligence' and so on, but I think I addressed it sufficiently.
So yeah, that was my little character research. This wasn't written for his haters (I dislike some characters myself, and I wouldn't probably read 3K words about how I should change my mind). It was rather for the people who kind of like him, but who feel sad thinking how he'd probably call them idiots or something. I hope I was able to help you see him in a different way. He wouldn't call you an idiot, he'd support you.
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callsign-fox · 3 months ago
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You Can Have Me - Rafe
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Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader (Jj's twin sister)
** MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU ARE NOT UP TO DATE**
18+ ONLY!!
Written with the help of my darling BFF @fanficgirl429
This is my first dip into OBX and I am not disappointed in myself :P Leave some love if you like it xo
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I jolted awake, the torment of my latest nightmare abruptly dissipating. The early morning sunlight caressed my skin as it filtered through the delicate white curtains. The movement beside me anchored me to the reality that I was home in North Carolina, secure, if only for the moment. 
“You good?” Kie asked beside me in a sleepy tone.
My body resisted as I cast aside the comforter and compelled myself to rise from the bed.
“I don’t think ‘good’ is the right word,” I muttered, grabbing my sports bra from the floor and moving toward the bathroom. 
She mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out before rolling away from me. 
Upon our return from Morocco, the stark reality of having lost both our home and business hit us with overwhelming force. Rafe Cameron, who seemed the most improbable of heroes, extended the hospitality of his beachfront home to us pogues. John B would say this was a gesture to Sarah and the fact Rafe would soon be an uncle. Conversely, Sarah claims it was because of me. I chose to ignore her. 
It may be difficult to comprehend, but experiencing homelessness was not the most distressing event of the past month. Upon our return home, we found ourselves one member short of our original group. My sole family member, my twin brother, is now lost to me permanently. My heart has been irreparably broken, as the only true family I ever knew was taken away by our estranged and unstable father.
I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. 
It has been more than three weeks since that happened. While I have not fully come to terms with the loss of a significant part of myself, I have become emotionally numb to it. I could not endure another expression of sympathy or inquiry about my well-being from anyone in the community. With that being said, for the past week, I have rarely stepped outside the small room that Kie and I shared.
I brushed my teeth and then swiftly threw my hair up in a loose ponytail. Once I was done, I grabbed some running shorts and paired it with a loose tee, desperate to release endorphins. 
“I’m going for a run, I’ll be back in an hour.” 
The door was already shut but I smiled at the muffled ‘be careful’ from Kie. 
My sneakers slid on effortlessly, and before anyone had the chance to engage me in conversation, I exited. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, I halted suddenly, intrigued by the sound of music coming from one of the open garages. It was a quarter past seven, and we were not particularly a lively bunch this early in the day.
As I approached the open door, Rafe came into sight. He was standing there, humming to the music, dressed in a snug white t-shirt and boxers. A wave of butterflies stirred in my stomach at the mere sight of him, evoking a mix of confusion and excitement within me. He glanced up from the bike, removing the black grease from his fingers onto his shirt.
“Y/N, hey.” 
I smiled at him as I leaned against the frame to the garage. “Hey Rafe.” 
A week prior to our departure for Morocco, I had spent hours wrapped up in this man. His skin pressed against mine, his lips caressing every inch of my body. The mere recollection of those moments left me feeling lightheaded. However, since our return, our communication had dwindled to almost nothing. I stood at the door to his bedroom one night, desperate to feel him inside of me again, but terrified of being denied. I went to bed tense and alone. 
My body yearned for him once more as he gazed at me with his deep ocean blue eyes. It was evident that he was attempting to decipher my thoughts, his eyes narrowing while I remained silent.
“Are you ok?” he asked, leaning on his bike. 
I pulled myself from the trance and stepped further into the garage. “Please don’t ask me that, I’m sick of people asking me that.” 
He cocked his head to the side before dropping a tool in his toolbox. “Fine. Am I allowed to ask if you are having a good morning?” 
“I am so far, but maybe check back later as things can change at any given moment. I’m going to go for a run.” 
Rafe nodded and reached down for something I couldn’t see. “Cool, cool. I would have thought maybe you were going to the shooting range or something.” 
I decided it was best to play dumb. “Why would I be going to a shooting range?” 
His hand resurfaced holding a black gun. 
Shit. 
I looked at the gun then back at him. I was careless, and couldn’t remember where I’d left. It must have been in the back of his truck. “I can explain.” 
“I actually have a few questions. One, where the fuck did you get this? And two, are you insane?” 
This wasn’t at all how I was hoping this morning would go. “Look, I know how to use it. I’ve been practicing.” 
“Oh, you know how to use it? That makes me feel much better,” he laughed, removing the clip and putting it back into the bag he pulled it out of. “What are you doing, Y/N? Are you planning on going and killing Groff yourself?” 
“Why not?” 
Rafe’s eyes widened as he straddled the bike. “For fuck sake, Y/N.” 
I moved closer, standing right beside him and the bike. “Why not, Rafe? I don’t want anyone else hurt, and we know he isn’t above killing his own children let alone my friends. I can do this, I have to do this!”
“And what if he kills you first?” 
As if I didn’t think about that. “That’s definitely a possibility.” 
“A possibility…” He had that crazed look we all knew so well. “Do you even know where he is?” He asked, clearly irritated as he rubbed his eyes. 
His question surprised me. “No, I don’t.” 
Rafe nodded, then reached for a wrench in his toolbox. “Alright…” 
I leaned forward trying to catch his gaze, “Alright what?” 
“Once you know where he is, you let me know.”  
This time I laughed. “Why would I do that, you’d try and stop me.”
“I won’t. When you know where he is, I’ll go with you and we’ll kill the son of a bitch.” 
I stood there silent for a moment, confused at the sharp turn the conversation just took. He continued on his bike as if no words had just been exchanged. Like neither of us were just perfectly ok with committing murder three seconds ago. 
“Rafe…I can’t ask you to do that.” 
“You didn’t ask, I volunteered.” 
He threw the wrench back into the box and reached out to me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into him. “I’m supposed to be the crazy one, but right now you’re scaring me a little.” 
My hand instinctively reached for his abdomen, applying a gentle pressure against his muscles.
“You scare me too.” 
An unexpected rush of life filled my heart, which throbbed so vigorously that I worried it might burst from my chest. He moved in closer, our lips nearly aligned, brushing softly against one another without fully making contact.
His calloused hands traversed the bare skin of my waist, then stealthily slipped under the waistband, pulling me tightly against his thigh. He smiled at me, and I could feel the heat rising, a flush spreading between my legs.
“Y/N…” his lips brushed my cheek, before moving to my ear sending a shiver down my spine to where my body wanted him most. ”I need you, and if Groff takes you away before I even get to have you…let’s just say things won’t end well.” 
I moved my hand down to his boxers, slipping beneath the elastic. My fingers curled around his firm erection, gliding back and forth. “Rafe, you can have me whenever you want me.” 
Rafe moaned, biting softly on the nape of my neck. 
He gently pulled me closer, lifting my leg so I could straddle the bike to sit on his lap. Our lips finally reunited, but this time there was no hesitation, only an intense desire. My arm encircled his neck as I leaned back on the handlebars, arching my back into him while feeling the ignition pressing against my shoulder blades. It didn't matter though, as I was completely enthralled with this man. 
Rafe withdrew slightly, his fingers gliding up my leg until they encountered my shorts. With a delicate motion, he eased them down, removing them as if he had performed this action countless times before. As he leaned in once more, his lips met my thigh, placing rough kisses upon the exposed skin. I arched my back as his mouth connected with my pulsating center, his thumb teasing the thin, damp fabric.
“Oh, god.” I let out a soft sound as he moved the loose fabric aside, teasing my sensitive area.
His tongue swirled over my core, and my body threatened to tip over the edge. I could feel him smiling as he devoured me, the sounds escaping me only egging him on further. He momentarily withdrew, prompting me to reach out in protest.
“I like you begging, but I’m just getting these out of the way so I can ruin you.” 
My underwear fell away effortlessly, and before I could utter another word, he returned to his position between my legs, guiding me nearer to my peak. The sensation coursing through me was the most intense I had ever experienced. His tongue glided over my center, while two fingers rhythmically entered and exited, propelling me toward the precipice of pleasure.
“Fuck, I’m going to come.” 
The apparent struggle in my voice served only to urge him to quicken his movements, and I was unable to withstand it any further. A delightful tingling spread throughout my body as I reached my peak, my heart racing and my breath becoming erratic.
Rafe reclined slightly before rising to his feet, a smirk playing on his lips, fully aware of the effect his actions had on me. His blue eyes roamed over my figure as he extended his hand toward me. I placed my hand in his, and he swiftly drew me up and guided me toward the wall. His hands descended to my waist, and he pivoted me so that my back was firmly against the wall.
“Should we stop?” Rafe asked, his fingers playing with the hem of my t-shirt. 
His boxers were halfway down his thigh when I looked up at him, towering over me with a devilish grin. “You’re so fucking funny.” 
He suddenly placed his lips against my neck, leaving a series of kisses before ultimately returning to my mouth. In a swift motion, he elevated my leg and pressed his aroused tip against my core.
“You’re nice and wet, all for me.” He whispered, biting my already inflamed bottom lip.
His length entered me effortlessly, the sensation of his movements eliciting soft moans. One of his hands firmly grasped my thigh, elevating my leg, while the other hand held my backside, his fingernails creating delicate crescent impressions as they traced my skin.
Rafe's movements began with a deliberate yet pressing urgency, intensifying with each thrust. I felt myself tighten around him as the well-known pleasure surged within me. His lips met mine, our tongues intertwining amidst our shared moans.
“Damn, you feel so good.” 
My hand clung to his shirt, pulling him tighter to me.
A wave of bliss enveloped me, my head tilting back as I softly uttered his name repeatedly. Rafe was just behind me, a deep groan escaping his lips as he nestled his face into the curve of my neck.
The two of us stood there for a moment, catching our breath. Rafe reached down and pulled his boxers back up before gently placing a kiss on the corner of my mouth. 
“For that, with you,” he smiled and took a breath. “…I’d kill a hundred Groffs.” 
The expression in my face revealed my own satisfaction. He gently placed his hands on my cheeks and kissed me one final time, this time with significantly more passion.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally withdrew, his teeth grazing his lower lip as he returned to the project he had been engaged in earlier. "Are you still planning to go for that run?" he inquired, casting a glance in my direction.
I shook my head, “No, I think I’m good.”  
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psychostxr · 6 months ago
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𝐝𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐧 | kiss me better
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PAIRING. deuce gorgon x gn/fem! reader
WORD COUNT. 0.6k
WARNINGS. mentions of bruises
NOTES. i'm alive! sorry for being absent, i got a job at a library and it's been taking up all my time so i haven't really written anything since febuary. but please enjoy this peace offering despite it being short
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"Oh my ghoul," you whisper, taking in the sight of your poor boyfriend as he sits on the bench outside the school nurse's office.
You knew Deuce would take some hits during the Skultimate Roller Maze game, but nothing could prepare you for what you saw. Deep purple bruises stain his cheek and nose. A sling and cast cradle his left arm, and his signature shades are cracked, threatening to shatter and turn everyone around him to stone.
"Deuce!" you call, rushing toward him.
He looks up to see you and quickly tries to stand up from the bench. You wrap your arms around him as gently as you can, careful not to press against any of his injuries. Deuce winces slightly but pulls you closer with his right arm. You pull back just enough to cup his unbruised cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin.
"What happened?" you ask, "The camera in the maze suddenly stopped working, and then we couldn't see anything."
Deuce sighs, his breath shaky. You can see the pain etched in his eyes, even behind the broken glasses.
"It was Gary from Granite City High," he begins, his voice low. "He sneaked up behind me and stole my glasses. I turned the camera bat Rocco was holding into stone. Rocco threw the stoned bat at Gil and knocked him over. Then Gary shoved me. I slammed into Gil, and you know the rest."
Deuce gestures weakly to his battered body. You feel a surge of anger rise within, but you try to push it down. It's not fair that Granite City High got away with winning this season's Skultimate Roller Maze despite cheating and injuring your school's entire team. But there was no evidence to prove they cheated. They made sure of it when they destroyed the camera.
"What about Gil?" you question, distracting yourself from your anger. "How's he doing?"
Deuce motions to the nurse's office. "He's getting checked now. Lagoona's with him."
"I'm so sorry, Deuce." You lean your head against him, rubbing your hand up and down his chest. "What they did wasn't fair. You didn't deserve any of that."
Deuce kisses the top of your head. "It's not your fault, babe. You don't need to be sorry."
"I know…" you sigh, pulling away to look up at him. "I just wish I could do something to make it better."
"Well," Deuce says, his lips curling into a smirk. "There is something that might help. Think you can kiss me better?"
You grin. "That I can do."
Deuce gently tugs you closer by the waist, and you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. Standing on your tiptoes, you gently kiss his forehead, lingering just long enough to let him feel the affection behind it.
Then, you move to his non-bruised cheek, leaving a soft kiss there. You kiss every part of his face that isn't bruised, and when Deuce thinks you're finally going to kiss him properly, your lips teasingly brush over his to continue kissing his face.
Deuce chuckles softly. "Stop teasing."
You pause, locking eyes with Deuce through his shades. Then, you lean in and kiss him passionately, letting all your love and care flow into that moment. Deuce's grip on your waist tightens slightly, pulling you closer as he kisses you back. When you finally break the kiss, your foreheads rest together.
Deuce lets out a content sigh. "You always know how to make things better."
"I'll always be here for you, Deuce. No matter what."
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© psychostxr — all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, translate, or claim any of my works as your own.
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nejiverse · 3 months ago
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KIDS AND CARS
Toji Fushiguro
In which Toji who has been a father for six years is bested by his own girlfriend who has never been a mother. Fem! Reader
cw: none, im starting the ‘megumi being an expressive kid’ agenda 🫡
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700ish words
Megumi was at that age where he rebelled against everything and anything Toji said or did. Frankly, it was starting to annoy Toji, he was starting to think his own son was trying to make his life a living hell on purpose
Then there was you who made it seem so effortless. Toji couldn’t comprehend why his six year old son only listened to his girlfriend
This particular day, Toji had an unimpressed look etched on his face as he folded his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. He was clearly fed up
“You have to put your toys away Megumi, I keep stepping on them”, he tried to be somewhat nice, he really did. But the boy just flat out ignored him as if he was deaf or something, continuing to bash his toy cars against each other while mimicking explosion noises. He was sat comfortably on the living room carpet with not a care in the world
Toji felt like a vein was about to burst as his brow twitched involuntarily. “I’m talking to you brat”, he spoke sternly, his patience drawing thin
In Toji’s defence, the little boy’s cars were scattered absolutely everywhere, it was hard to walk by without stepping on one. Besides, he was only playing with three out of the millions of toy cars on the floor
“Don’t wanna”.
Toji itched his head and clenched his teeth. Since when did his little boy upgrade from a simple ‘no’ to a ‘don’t wanna’?
Without a doubt, out of all the opponents he had faced in his lifetime, Megumi had to be his biggest challenge yet
“Yeah well I don’t give a fu—”, before Toji could finish his sentence, a hand came over his mouth
“Be nice”, his beloved girlfriend had a frown on her face because of his vulgar language
Toji sighed, relaxing his facial muscles and unfolding his arms. “Yeah yeah”
The woman approached Megumi, crouching down beside him with two of his little toy boxes in her hands after overhearing the whole situation while she was tidying his room.
“Say Megs”, she started with the nickname he loved to hear. “I’m really bored right now, can you play a game with me?”, at the mention of a game, Megumi perked up, turning to face Y/n
“What game?”, he asked, curiosity evident in his big blue eyes
“Whoever can pick up the most cars and put them into these boxes in 30 seconds wins!”, she explained before feigning a sad expression. “Oh but I don’t think you’ll be able to beat me, I am a faster runner than you after all”
Megumi felt challenged. “Liar! I’m the fastest!”, he boasted proudly
She smirked. “We’ll see about that….3, 2, 1, go!”, and the both of them scrambled to pick up as many cars as they could from the ground
Toji watched in amazement how good she was with him without ever having any experience with kids. He definitely chose the right person to date
Later that evening, after Megumi was tucked into bed and the house was quiet (finally), Y/n got comfortable between Toji’s legs as he threw on a random movie.
“Thanks for earlier, I feel like Megumi has a secret vendetta against me at the moment”, he commented
She laughed. “Im sure he doesn’t, you just have to know how to approach him”, she leaned her head against his chest. “He really is a good kid”.
“Mhm”, he hummed against her neck as his head moved to rest on her shoulder, his arms slithering around her waist
“Makes me think we’d do alright with more, y’know?”, his hands moved under her shirt and massaged the flesh around her stomach
She couldn’t resist the smile that creeped onto her lips as she turned around in his arms. “Toji Fushiguro are you asking me to have your kids?”.
“Is that a yes?”.
Well, is it?
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a/n: off topic but kinda wanna start writing for bleach now that im caught up with the newest season 🤭 (requests opened btw)
masterlist :)
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billthedrake · 2 months ago
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GRANDDADDY ISSUES
I tried not to seem too eager, waiting in the living room. The Christmas tree was still up and various cookies and candy still out. Mom always went all out for the holidays, even if it was just the two of us.
Thing was, my mother was happy I was close to her father. Always had been and even more so since her divorce. Granddad Paul didn't live super close, but he made an effort to come visit at least once a month. Catching my lacrosse games, being there for my birthday each year, and just completing out the rump family Mom and I had. As a single mother, she held it together, props to her, but Granddad made it feel like a family.
Summers I'd spend a month with the man. He was a high school history teacher and football coach, and had down time to spend with me. I was 16 before I realized his appointed, or self-appointed role, was to be the father figure in my life. Teaching me guy stuff, man stuff. Fishing, camping, home repairs. Birds and the bees. Guy talk.
Of course Mom would freak out, and more, if she new Granddad Paul and I had fooled around the summer after high school. Testing the waters, then diving in. I thought I was confused sexually, but when Granddad went down on me, and sucked a healthy load from my 18 year old jock balls, I knew I wasn't confused one bit. I learned how to return the favor.
I heard him pull up, an old but reliable pick up truck. I looked out the window to watch him get out.
Granddad was the perfect man in my book. 5'10 and barrel chested, walking slightly bow legged like an overgrown jock, he strode up to the door, hands in his jeans pocket. He had on only jeans and gray sweatshirt emblazoned with the high school he'd coached at. He'd let his normal short hair cut grow out to a medium length, almost shaggy and fully gray.
"Killer!" he beamed when I opened the door. I could see the silvery stubble on his chin and smell his aftershave as he pulled me into a tight hug. I now knew how to return the bear clasp myself, patting Granddad's meaty back and feeling his cool cheek next to mine before we pulled back, matching smiles on our faces. Yeah, Granddad missed me, too. He gave a wink and patted my upper arm.
"Merry Christmas, Dad!" I heard my mom behind me. My cue to step aside.
"Linda!" Granddad said. "Merry Christmas." He greeted my mother with a gentler hug. "You're looking great," he said.
My mom had been taking care of herself lately. She had a new boyfriend, Gary, who'd come over for Christmas dinner. I suspected they were more serious than Mom let on, but she didn't want to push things too fast with me. Not that I cared.
For his part, Granddad always had Christmas dinner with my uncle and his family, who lived closer to him. So the day after was Christmas part two for us. Presents and an afternoon light dinner before I threw a couple of bags in the cab of his truck for the hour ride.
It was great this year. Mom was in a great mood, between the boyfriend, her recent promotion at work and my return from college. I did my best to help in the kitchen so should could have time with Granddad.
I'd bought Granddad a new electric shaver Mom said he wanted. The irony was clear to me when he opened it, his scruff fully evident. He even made a joke about it. "Guess it is time to get more presentable," he said.
He got Mom a gift card for the local department store. "You know I can't pick out what you want, Linda," he apologized.
"I'll make good use of it," she assured him, getting out of her chair to give him an affectionate hug.
I was blown away when I opened the small box for my present. There were two tickets to the upcoming Panthers game.
"Jesus, Granddad," I let out, then checked myself. Mom didn't like me to swear, though I didn't do any outright cussing.
He looked like he couldn't wait to read my reaction. "They're as much for me as for you, even if the Panthers aren't doing so hot this season," he said. "I figured it would give us something to do this week."
It was a week and a half I'd spend with the man, but who was counting?
We ended up hitting the road by mid afternoon. Granddad wanted to get us back before nighttime. On the ride it was a lot of catching up. Mostly me giving a monologue about my first freshman semester, what classes I was taking, and what I'd signed up for in Spring.
I could tell something was on Granddad Paul's mind. "You, um, talk to your dad, Drew?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yes, sir. we talked a little yesterday," I said in a flat tone. I didn't get along with my father. He was pretty absent and I had a lot of resentment.
Granddad looked over with a deep emotion and reached over to massage the back of my neck. It was affectionate and perfect. "I know it's tough, kiddo." Pulling his eyes back to the road he kept his hand there. The touch was getting me hard.
And as I looked over, taking in his weathered face and deepening wrinkles that framed his ruddy cheeks and roman nose, I was getting turned on for real now. I was wired for men, older men. Old men, really, though I was a low-key resentful that none of the men in the "mature" porn matched Granddad's hotness. He was well-preserved and yet clearly in his 60s. That combination was electric to me.
The man seemed to read my mind. "You know, Drew, we don't have to do anything this week. Anything you don't wanna."
I nodded. But my tone was upbeat, eager. "I wanna Granddad," I assured him. "It's kind of all Ive been thinking about the last few months."
"Is that right?" he chuckled. I felt his fingers tease the hair on the nape of my neck. "I figured Killer Stenson would have some fun to keep him occupied in college." Stenson was my Dad's last name, and mine too.
I spread my legs. I was officially bricked now. If Granddad had said HE didn't want to fool around, I didn't know what I would have done. I would have respected his wishes, and yet...
"No, sir. I guess I'm not wired for college guys, really," I said. It was a big admission, and one I'd rehearsed in my head for several weeks now. Turns out, Granddad Paul made me feel comfortable. It was all coming out easily now.
"And college girls?" he prompted.
"Not wired for girls at all, actually."
He nodded, taking it in. "You told your mother?"
I shook my head. "No, sir," I replied. "I haven't told anyone. Other than you."
"Well, it's no one's damn business if you don't want it to be."
We were getting close to Granddad's place and soon he removed his hand as he turned into the gravel driveway. He was a widower and when he'd retired, he'd bought a mountain cabin. We pulled up, and I got one bag, and Granddad the other. As we entered, I was reminded of the distinctly masculine space of the place. Wood paneling and woody-smoky scent from the fireplace. Framed photos of mountains and nature, a signed football jersey framed behind glass, and not much else for decoration.
Granddad could get in no-nonsense mode and already he was leading me back to the second bedroom, which was the guest room when I visited. "Everything is here for you, Drew," he said, setting down my bag.
I gave a quick look in. Basic bed with wool blanket rather than a duvet or comforter. I wanted to respect Granddad's space, but I had to take a chance.
"I was kinda hoping I could be in the master bedroom," I said, nervously looking into the man's blue eyes.
That caught him by surprise. We'd fooled around the previous summer, a lot actually, but it had felt very exploratory, a naughty new game for both of us. Maybe this was my way of ratcheting that game up. But I'd had almost four long months to imagine this visit.
Granddad was caught by surprise. "For real, Killer?" he asked, in that "are you sure?" tone. Then giving me a wink, he added, "I snore, you know."
"I don't give a fuck, Granddad," I said, emboldened by the fact he hadn't said no.
There was a look of lust on that handsome face of his, and Granddad closed the distance between us. I felt his breath and then the scruff of his stubble before our lips touched. A gentle peck, then I opened my mouth. Granddad has a thick tongue and I could feel it snake in between my lips.
Oh fuck, we were making out, and this felt different than before. Granddad pulling my body into his and me feeling up that strong body through his sweatshirt.
"Easy, Killer," he finally mumbled into my lips. "Soft kissin can be kind of hot, too."
And then Granddad showed me a new speed, a new technique. He was right, this was incredible, and amazingly the gentler approach was fueling my boner just as much.
I did grunt, though, as I felt Granddad's paw grip my crotch.
He had a big smile as he pulled back. "Let's take this to my bed, young man."
We made our way to the master bedroom and quickly stripped down. I loved how Granddad's eyes were on me the whole time. "You packed on some more muscle at school, stud?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yes, sir. Been hitting the weights hard," I added. I wasn't playing lacrosse at college, but I wanted to maintain and develop my jock body.
His eyes swept up and down my near nakedness. Appreciative, even as he got his lecturing tone. That Coach tone. "I hope you're doing it for yourself, Drew," he said. "Not for anyone else."
"I am, Granddad," I said with a slightly annoyed tone. Maybe he was right that my body issues and insecurities were driving my obsession with lifting and putting on muscle.
"Well, you're the kind of stud who makes me thankful I'm a man."
Then I watched Granddad slip off his underwear, showing off that full magnificent 65 year old body. Muscular but with some loose sag to the beef, that build was covered in a thick silvery fur trimmed evenly, at least until the darker bush, where gray pubic hairs grew longer and stray next to the brown ones. Granddad Paul's cock was just shy of 6 inches and cut and pretty thick, especially at the base. He'd confided to me that he took pills for a mild case of ED, and maybe he'd taken one that day, because his prick was sticking up hard.
"I'm thankful you're a man, too, Granddad," I joked, even as I slid off my boxers and showed my grandfather my erect dong. I wasn't as thick as him, but I had a good inch and a half in length on him.
"Goddamn," he hissed. I loved how the man let loose with the swearing when it was just us. Especially at times like this. He stepped up and reached down to gently stroke my hardon from base to tip. "OK if I suck this, Drew?"
I didn't know why he was being so coy, but then I realized he'd had four long months to imagine us having sex again. Anticipating. Not knowing where we'd pick off, or even if we would.
"Um, yeah, Granddad."
He looked up from my dick. "You know, my name is Paul."
"I know," I said. It felt weird being on a first name basis. The tone in my voice suggested I never would be.
That got a chuckle out of him. He hadn't let go of my cock, instead he slowly stroked it. Without lube it felt more of a tease motion rather than a jacking off pleasure. I loved it. "If you're game, there's some stuff I want to try this week," he said. A little nervousness was behind his mature experience.
"Yeah?" I asked excitedly. I reached forward to feel up his torso, feeling the thickness of his aged muscle.
He nodded. "You tried fucking yet, Killer?" he asked with a grin.
"No, sir," I said. "Been thinking about it, though. A lot."
That brought a smile to his face. "Your mother would kill me," he said.
"She's not gonna find out, sir," I assured him.
Granddad released my dick and then crouched down in front of me, His strong hands ran up and down my outer quads as he stared at my dick. "We're gonna have a lot of fun this week, aren't we, Killer?" he breathed.
"Yes, Granddad," I answered.
He leaned in some and skinned back my foreskin. "You know I'm not a big fan of your father, but I'll give him credit for leaving your skin intact."
I felt his tongue taste the tip then watched him open up and take me in. I still got a thrill from seeing this masculine man being so enthusiastic sucking dick. He didn't got slow either. Taking just a second to get used to me and my size, he began working me up and down with long steady mouth strokes. Twisting his head slightly and giving a gentle tug of my balls.
"Granddad!" I urged. My lock was loaded and my sexual response was far more primed than I expected. If Granddad kept it up, I wouldn't last long. I even gave a half hearted attempt to push his shoulders back, but he kept on me. I looked down on his almost entirely gray hair and his mature body. He was bobbing faster now, and sucking more fervently. "FUCK!" I gasped.
I heard the man choked down my heavy load in successive swallows. His moans around my spurting prick were deep and appreciative as he rode out my orgasm with his slowed down sucking.
"Goddamn, buddy," he finally said as he pulled back and wiped his chin. "That's one helluva load. Please tell me you have more in the tanks for later."
"Probably," I laughed, enjoying the way my dick stayed rigid after cumming so hard.
He took his time standing up. "Think I can feel you up for a bit?" he asked. Already he was climbing on to the bed and scooting over to the other side to pull out some lube.
I wasn't sure what he was wanting but I got in bed, too. He squirted a good deal of lube on his dick and started stroking before turning back to me. His free hand ran along my bare torso.
"You got a beautiful body, Killer," he said, openly massaging my chest and abs. I wasn't completely smooth but compared to him I was.
"Thank, Granddad," I said. "I love yours, too." I reached out and began to touch his furry chest.
"I'm old," he said with a laugh.
I looked into his eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way, Granddad, but I like em old."
"You into the daddies, Killer?" Granddad smiled.
"Older, even," I admitted. "A man has to be 60 before I notice him. I'm kind of messed up."
"Hardly, stud," he said. He took his hand and moved to touch and caress my chin. "I got a good bud like you."
I tried to pick up on the implications of what he was saying. Put two and two together. "A boyfriend?" I knew Granddad had gone mostly for men after Grandma died. Said he didn't think he was up for another traditional relationship and that there was too much lost time to make up.
"No," the man replied. "Just a deep friendship. He's married now, but craves a little coach time, you know?" I could tell he was hesitant to tell me about this.
"A former player?" I asked.
"That stays between you and me, Killer."
"Yes, sir." I ran my hand down, past his moving fist, to cup his balls. "I'm just glad you got someone looking after you, Granddad."
"Oh kiddo," he breathed, closing in the gap for another kiss. This was less soft than before but it was amazing. Real heavy making out as Granddad moved back to feeling my body as he jerked off. He had a slower sexual response but it didn't take him long. He pawed at my chest more aggressively as I felt the tension rise and release in his body. He grunted into my mouth and I felt his hot cum splash on my belly.
We embraced and held each other after our orgasms, making out some but also just feeling each other's bodies.
"So... the older man thing," Granddad said, breaking the silence. "How much of that is me?"
He asked the thing that had been on my mind. "Some of it. But I think if we hadn't fooled around, I would have found someone who reminded me of you."
That got a soft grunt from the man. I knew the words hit him in an emotional and sexual place. "Is that what we're doing, Killer? Just fooling around?" There was an edge to his voice, teasing yet sexual.
"Oh god, Granddad," I hissed. "I've been trying not to get ahead of myself."
He gave me a thoughtful look, his blue eyes set off by his gray hair and weathered face. "Well, we got all week to figure things out."
"Week and a half," I corrected.
Granddad smiled. "You serious about what I said earlier? About trying more?"
I felt his strong biceps, pumped beneath the looser skin. "I'm not very experienced, sir. But I wanna be. I want you to be the one to show me."
We kissed, soft again, super slow. I was hard but not eager to cum again, just enjoying the proximity to him. I could feel Granddad's cock plump out, too. It was dark out, pitch black dark, and we had only the light of the bedlamp. I had no idea what time it was, but my stomach rumbled.
That got his attention. He pulled back and looked me up and down. I had the feeling I was his Christmas present, more than the electric razor. "Let's get some food in you, buddy. And we can take our time with the rest, OK?"
I got up. Granddad handed me one of his T-shirts and a spare pair of sweats. I loved wearing his clothes, and I loved that he trusted me to start a fire in the fireplace while he made us some burgers. Granddad is particular about the fireplace being set up and lit the proper way.
Even if the meal was casual, washed down with cans of cold lager, it felt like the most special date night I could imagine.
Maybe I was a little too silent as I ate. Even when I was done, I sipped my beer and looked at Granddad Paul's handsomeness and felt like the luckiest man.
"What are you thinking, Drew?" he asked softly.
I blushed. "Just crushing out on you a little, sir. Sorry."
He shook his head. "Don't be sorry. I'm crushing out on you, too, buddy. More than a little."
I felt flush hot with desire and emotion now. I threw hard, I couldn't help. Granddad noticed and chuckled. "Just be patient with me, Killer, I'm an old man and don't have the sex drive I once did."
My turn to laugh. "You do just fine, sir." This time I took the initiative, setting down my beer and moving over to kiss him.
I lost track of time again. Both of us did. I never fished my beer. I was tired enough anyway, when Granddad wordlessly led me back to his bedroom. Our bedroom for the week. No more sex that night, just spoon naked against one another. But Grandad Paul was right: we had all the time we wanted to take together.
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lo1k-diamonds · 5 months ago
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Stellar Behavior 💜 Part 1
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“What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”
PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader
SUMMARY: Yoongi has been in the police force for long enough to know that the system isn’t perfect, so when an injustice is about to put his protégé in jail, he has no other choice but to go to you. You’re the devil, but you’re hard to resist, and he needs to decide between falling into temptation or showing you that two can play the game.
WORD COUNT: 4.8k
GENRE: Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut
RATING: R (explicit)
WARNINGS: corruption, power dynamics, blackmail, threats w/ a knife, slight degradation, sexual favors, oral (f rec)
A.N. I'm soooo excited, this fic is 🔥 Infinite thank yous to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for working through my crazy and being incredible! Enjoy 🔥🔥
Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | Next Chapter >
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Yoongi huffed and threw his eyeglasses onto the keyboard, rubbing his eyes so roughly he saw lights. It was no use; no matter how much he went over the evidence, again and again, he couldn’t change it.
“Hyung.”
He uncovered his eyes, only to be met with Taehyung’s sadness. His shoulders sagged from the sleepless nights ever since Jimin had gotten arrested, with dark circles bringing even more desolation to his otherwise heavenly features. He knew it wasn’t Taehyung’s intention, but the sight only unnerved Yoongi even more.
“Go home, get some sleep.”
Taehyung flinched, “But—”
“That’s an order, Officer.”
Taehyung stiffened and instantly bowed and showed his respects to his Superintendent before turning and leaving. Only then did Yoongi heave a deep breath and observe around him. It was weird seeing his department at the police station empty, without the officers at their desks taking calls or doing paperwork while on one of their 24-hour shifts. But they had all been shaken up, and so he had sent them home.
He was proud of his Division, and as their Chief, he couldn’t be more certain of everyone’s conduct and character. This included Jimin’s, and it was the reason why he was losing his mind over this case.
No matter how much he reviewed the footage and evidence, there was no mistake — Officer Jimin had seemingly shot his partner dead during an arrest gone wrong. This was a natural conclusion, judging by the body camera of the now deceased cop, Officer Junghee, that had captured Jimin nearing him with a fuming pistol in his hand. One that matched the ballistics report on Yoongi’s desk.
This was why the prosecution wanted to charge him with manslaughter at the very least, but Yoongi could not be convinced. The body camera also captured the panic in Officer Jimin’s voice and expression as he tried to save his downed partner. Yoongi didn’t care if that was Jimin’s gun or if it was fuming in his hand — he didn’t believe it.
“It wasn’t me!” The words Jimin shouted as he was arrested conveyed an absolute world of hurt and combined with the shock in Jimin’s eyes was seared into Yoongi’s retinas, causing him to dig the heel of his hands into his eyes again. But no matter how much he attempted to change the image, it wouldn’t. Jimin, his protégé, was still being handcuffed and taken away while begging, “I didn’t, you have to believe me! He put it in my hands! Hyung!”
Yoongi nudged his eyeglasses off the keyboard, locked his computer, and grabbed his coat. On long nights like these, he didn’t bother staying in uniform, only wearing black pants with a white shirt and his badge and holster belt. He made his way outside and got into his car, acknowledging whoever he met along the way. Temperatures were freezing, and his car didn’t start immediately. He reached for his nicotine gum while he waited for the car to warm up. When it finally started, so did the 3 AM news on the radio right as he left the parking lot.
“In a shocking revelation, an officer from the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency shot his partner dead after pulling up to a suspicious vehicle in Dongjak District. The mounting evidence is undeniable, and the prosecution is discussing the potential penalty in such a case, with the spokesperson revealing in a press conference that while mistakes happen, justice needs to be served.”
Yoongi kept chewing and driving as the prosecutor’s voice echoed through the speakers. On the outside, Yoongi was the picture of calm, cool, and collected, but inside, he was fuming. He had spoken with the prosecutor many times, who preferred a clean-cut arrest to build his case to run for whatever political role he was after rather than fight for justice, as he claimed. Yoongi had always known that multiple interests abound in the justice system, but now he was starting to get pissed.
When he parked the car, he looked outside through the windshield, observing quietly as the people moved in and out of the Aether. The bouncers kept drunks at bay, and despite the booming music and the flashy lights, everything looked normal for a nightclub.
He removed his belt and badge, shoving them in the glove compartment so hard that something fell out. He reached to grab it from the floor, his frown instantly turning into a scowl. It was a photo of him hugging a woman, laughing, taken many years ago when they were still happy. When they were not even married yet, let alone divorced.
He got out of the car and ripped the photo into as many tiny pieces as possible, dropping the scraps in a trashcan along with his gum. Then he stopped in front of the bouncers with his hands in his pockets, saying six little special words.
“I want to see the boss.”
The first bouncer just scoffed a laugh and shook his head, but the second one eyed him from head to toe, “If you’re here to inspect, then you have to identify yourself first.”
“Not an inspection,” Yoongi said nonchalantly, glancing around. “It’s not an official visit.”
The smirking bouncer kept the flow of the people going in and out while the serious one, resembling the first almost to a T, pressed his earpiece further into his ear, waiting for orders. Yoongi had noticed the cameras already while he was walking up, and he wondered how long it would take for them to know exactly who he was and why he was there.
The serious bouncer moved closer to him, “Are you armed?”
“No.”
“I have to make sure.”
Yoongi glanced at him, then nodded, raising his hands as he let the man make sure he was unarmed. When the tall man rose from his knees after checking Yoongi’s ankles, he lowered his arms and waited for the goon to catch his breath.
“Alright, you can go in.”
He moved past the bouncers and into the entryway, but he hadn’t even made it to the coat check when someone approached him. Just by the light clothing, styled hair, and badge hanging on his belt, Yoongi could immediately tell that the man worked there.
“Follow me.”
Yoongi wasn’t there to sightsee, but he could appreciate the columns and marble structures and statues. Along with the paintings, velvet curtains, and carpets, it made the Aether look like a temple or divine abode of the Gods. The aesthetic intensified as they went up the stairs, but he didn’t have time to register much. In a second, he was walking into what appeared like an ordinary office — a pleasant space with a large desk at the center in front of huge dark windows that showed the lights flashing from the dance floor. He ignored the liquor table, the cabinets with files, and the black velvet sofas to the side. What his eyes were immediately drawn to was you — you who had pushed the large computer screen to the side so you could watch him come in. Your chin rested graciously on your intertwined fingers, with your elbows on the desk, eyes flickering with amusement, watching him through dark curled lashes. He hadn’t even noticed he had walked to your desk or that the door had closed behind him, but then you stood up, letting your delicate arms fall alongside your tight black dress. Your black, straight hair slid over your shoulders, framing the plunging cleavage of your dress, and when you smiled, he felt hot—molten hot.
“Welcome, Superintendent,” you smiled with a glint of amusement, your perfect teeth shining in the overhead light, and he clenched his fists behind his back. “Or should I say Yoongi? I was told you weren’t here in an official capacity, but…” You eyed him from head to toe, and he did his best to stay poised and calm. “You don’t look like you’re here to club.”
Yoongi was already sweating, not out of nervousness but because of you. Because you always eyed him like you owned him, always had a hint of mischief to every smile, and were always as elusive as a ghost. One he couldn’t catch and had grown tired of running after.
Still, hearing his name in your mouth for the first time… made him pull on the collar of his shirt, “Not here to party; I’m here on business.”
Your eyebrow twitched, and he looked at you seriously; you were a cunning fox of the worst kind. Worse than a weed, than a pest, than the bloody smoke still hanging in the air and making his fingers twitch. He had a simple goal, and he had to stay focused.
“Not an official visit, but you’re here on business…” you mused out loud then shrugged. “Soon, it will be four in the morning,” you revealed with a hint of disdain as you neared the table that held liquor in crystal decanters. “Surely, if you wanted to do something official, you’d wait at least three more hours?” You chuckled as you poured a finger of whiskey into a glass. “Want some?” He shook his head, and you shrugged again. You made your way back to your desk, but instead of going around it, you perched on the side of it, close enough for him to see your dress parting, giving hints of your upper thighs, “What can I do for you, Chief?”
Yoongi had nerves of steel; he ignored the lush skin of your thighs, the cleavage, the numbing sound reverberating through the walls, the dimmed lights, and the way your eyes seemed to challenge him with every blink.
He focused, “I want your help.”
Your eyes widened comically, the image of innocence and confusion, “Mine? What could such a powerful person need from me?”
Thankfully, your coy attitude irritated him and helped him concentrate. “I know the suspicious car they were chasing was one of yours.”
Your eyes widened even more, but this time, you brought your glass to your lips to hide a smile, “My, my, Officer. I know I have many cars, but to say I was a fugitive—”
“You know what I mean,” his jaw clenched, and you licked your lips.
“I don’t,” you could only smile, and he clenched his fists again. There it was. It pissed the fuck out of him. “Are you going to arrest me, Chief? Make good use of those deduction skills of yours and put pretty handcuffs around my wrists?”
He hated that his heart jumped in his chest as you whispered salaciously and leaned into him, shortening the distance between you. He hated how tempting you looked, and he hated the way your eyes fixed on his, as if you were ready to follow suit with your provocation. You were probably a tease like that with everyone all the time. It pissed him off even more.
He only blinked, ever the master of showing a relaxed demeanor, “I have no evidence to arrest you, nor am I here in that capacity.” 
It instantly hit him, as you straightened your back and finished the drink in your hand, that he was going to have to ask for your help. Not outsmart you, not convince you, not squabble with half facts and hunches — he needed your help and that meant he had to come down off his pedestal.
“My— An officer from my team will be sentenced for something he didn’t do. I’m out of options; I’ve hit a dead-end.”
Your lips pressed into a thin line as you put down the empty glass, “Don’t tell me — the system he holds and protects with his life won’t even try to prove his innocence.”
His jaw clenched; he hated that you weren’t completely wrong. “I’m trying to prove his innocence.”
The corners of your mouth twitched in a smile. “What makes you think I can help?”
He kept his mouth closed for a thoughtful moment. There was no use in accusing you again. Your smile wasn’t sly, so he decided to go for it. “You’re one of the biggest players.”
“Me?” You acted surprised, “I just own a few businesses here and there…”
“They say you’re the one to contact for information.” You tilted your head, and he insisted, “Even if that wasn’t your car, you’d know about it because it was on your turf. You’re you. I just know you know something that can help us solve this.”
That answer seemed to satisfy you because your lips and eyes revealed a small yet genuine smile that caught his breath. It made him realize he was leaning towards you now, exposing himself like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. Not when you looked at him like that, feeding into his hope.
“Say I do,” you started, eyes fixed on his. “Say I have evidence that could exonerate Officer Park.” He snapped straight; he had never told you the name of the Officer, and the media didn’t know it either. Yet what got him were your words, “Why would I help you?”
He clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth clicked. He just about growled with the way irritation mixed with his desperation, making him reel.
“Come on, Chief. Talk to me,” you pressed, wanting him to push through both the shock and the stick up his ass. “You must be desperate enough if you’re asking for my help, and I’m not denying it. I’m saying I might have what you need. What would you do to save an innocent from prison for life or worse?”
He didn’t think, “You have it? Something that could undeniably prove his innocence?”
He knew before he was done asking that it was impossible and that he was acting crazy. Yet, you leaned into him, meeting him halfway, your breath hitting his chin, “In those exact words? I do.” You sat back and let your words sink in, not knowing they gave him a full-body shudder. He always knew you were powerful and had your ways, but holy shit— “What do you have that I want?”
He opened his mouth but instantly closed it. Objectively, he had nothing. But maybe there was something he could do. First, though, he needed to know it was real. “What evidence do you have? Show it to me—”
“Hmmm, no,” you pressed your lips and twisted your nose, displeased. “That’s not how this works. This is based on trust. Besides, you don’t seem to have anything to offer.”
For a split second, he wondered if you were bullshitting him, but he honestly didn’t care. He had to do something. “You want something concrete for a maybe?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” your tone hardened as your expression lost humor.
“Alright, name it. Tell me what is worth your help.”
His tone was soft, and it worked to soothe you. His dark eyes helped; there was so much willingness in them, and you liked that. The man there asking for your help to correct an injustice was the kind of man you were looking for.
“Since you asked,” you cheekily started, pulling your hair behind your shoulders. “I want three things.” He didn’t even blink, so you continued, “The first is a favor. Of my choice and at my discretion whenever I shall need it. The second is for you to get on your knees. And the third is for you to eat.”
He blinked, “What?” He looked down to follow your hands over your thighs, and you spread your legs for him, though the black dress covered between them. He shook his head in bewilderment, “You’re crazy!”
“Crazy?” You chuckled, “I think I’m being quite reasonable.”
“You— Do you hear what you’re asking?”
He sounded breathless and could feel the heat on his cheeks, which was not ideal. He almost managed to step back, but a quirk of your eyebrow kept him still — he needed that evidence.
“Oh my, Chief Min. Are you getting heated at the thought of a couple of favors?” He scoffed, and you continued your tease, “Or is it the knees? Too proud to beg?”
“No, not too proud,” he mumbled between teeth. He was ready to kneel on the floor and beg, and the heat rising in his neck told him the rest wasn’t a problem either. And that was the problem. “The favor—” He cleared his throat, scratching it, “What is the favor?”
“I don’t know yet,” you shrugged, and it seemed to him like it didn’t matter. He knew that couldn’t be true, that had to be what you were really after — something specific from the Superintendent of the Seoul Metropolitan Police. And yet your eyes were shining in such a way that he almost forgot who you were. Almost.
“Something illegal, no doubt.”
You sighed and he took the moment to let the anger cool him — you were a criminal about to use his good intentions to surely accomplish something even worse. Instead of cooling him, irritation made him snap his knuckles and shift on his feet.
“I don’t know what it is, but it shouldn’t matter,” you said more coldly, squinting your eyes. “What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”
There was a hint of impatience in your tone that only riled him up more. He turned to you, “What’s stopping me from just—”
“You’re not that stupid,” you interrupted, raising your chin. His eyes noticed the surveillance cameras and you smirked, “They’re not who you should be concerned about.”
Your smile was predatory but he scoffed. You didn’t need to threaten him, and he didn’t like the coercion. He refused to look at you for a moment, giving you the impression that he was weighing his options. In reality, he was figuring out what angered him more — the fact that he was about to make a deal with a devil like you, or that he was that turned on from it.
You huffed and got off the desk, your heels clicking on the floor like a timer had just gone off. “Never mind—”
He grabbed your arm to keep you from walking away, and in a second, something sharp was poking his lower stomach. You both froze in place, your gaze angry and fixed on his, while his heart raced inside his chest. He didn’t let go of your arm, and you didn’t lower your knife.
“I never heard a yes from those pretty lips, so…” you spoke quietly, then pressed the blade harder. “Hands off.”
He knew you could put your money where your mouth was, and that if you wanted to kill him and get rid of him, you would. Yet, his grip didn’t lessen as he observed you. He was still trying to figure things out — not what to do, but you. He hated you objectively; you represented everything wrong with the world. Jimin was innocent; you shouldn’t be bargaining for his life, you should do the right thing. But you weren’t, you wanted to play with fire. Maybe even to get burned.
“What is it…” he started quietly, still eying your angry eyes. “Is it the risk? The humiliation? The footage for blackmailing me later? The power over a figure of authority?”
You scoffed, leaning in to answer just as quietly, “No risk, Chief. The footage might be insurance, but you’re a man of your word. No power over you because you’ll be doing it willingly. And no humiliation,” you chuckled. “It’s a privilege to eat at this table. Although…” You looked down, then smirked. “I can play if that’s what you like.”
He looked away from your eyes for the first time and almost flinched; his pants had a tent. He couldn’t even think; why was his body betraying him like this? He tried pulling away and letting you go, but you pressed the tip of your knife harder.
“Nuh-uh,” you whispered, taking a deep breath a little closer to his neck. “I heard the missus left cause you couldn’t get it up, but won’t you look at that—” Your tone was sly, and he gripped your arm harder in retaliation. You laughed, “I guess she just didn’t know how to play. Or maybe you like this,” your voice lowered wantonly, and a shiver ran up his spine as though he was starting to attune to it. “Like not having a choice, to be in danger, to be forced to do something reprehensible.”
He had to lick his lips because for a second he thought he was drooling, “I have a choice.”
You smiled and his cock twitched, “Then choose.”
He eyed your smile and leaned into you, but you chuckled and playfully pressed the tip of the knife to impose distance, ignoring the red droplets tainting the fabric.
“On your knees, Chief.”
His eyes snapped to yours, and he pulled you by the arm, disregarding the blade, so you’d walk back until the back of your thighs hit the desk. Then, he gripped your hips and helped you on the desk, fisting your dress in the same movement to get it out of the way as he kneeled between your legs. Your knife had slipped from your hand as you rested them on the desk for support, and you didn’t think to pick it back up. You wanted him to eat you and mean it, but he was going above and beyond — nuzzling your thighs and inhaling your scent, frantically fighting with your dress, and trying to pry your legs further apart so he could have access.
When his nose poked your clit, you jumped in place, and his fingers dug into your hips, even through the fabric of the dress. Just looking at the way he was fighting to get his mouth on you was positively melting you, but you wanted it to actually happen.
“Slide them down,” you breathed after he nuzzled and licked your core through your panties enough times to cover you with goosebumps.
He immediately obliged, and you shimmied to help him get rid of them. He threw them on the floor, then gripped your legs apart before giving you a look that seared you in place. You didn’t know what it was, but you were living for it, and the excitement burned your gut. The Superintendent looked like a piece of forbidden heaven between your thighs; who knew he’d have you melting like this just at the hint of doing what you asked?
A smirk spread on your lips as he kept struggling with your dress, until suddenly — rip. He bunched the fabric and pulled it, causing the slit that revealed your thigh to rip, and you chuckled. You liked that energy, that hunger; the way he was willing to destroy to have his way. Instantly, he had free leeway to uncover your core and press his mouth, rolling his tongue all over your slick folds.
You jolted with a sigh, gripping his hair at the back of his head. The more he laved his tongue over your slit to taste you, the more you had the urge to move, but you stayed still. With your eyes closed, you enjoyed every second of his discovery, from his licks to his tasting and humming. You heaved the breath you were holding when he nibbled your heat right before finding your clit to suckle, and your voice finally came out. You could almost laugh at how easily he had found his way, but your mind wasn’t there. While he found his rhythm, you guided him with expressive sighs, grazing your acrylic nails over his scalp without ever forcing him. You wouldn’t; his hunger was part of the power trip. Chief Min would eat you, give you what you wanted, and service you because you had that much power. You could bring someone like him to his knees. He liked it.
You suddenly pulled on his hair so he’d look up at you, and he did, not even bothering with a quizzical look. You bit your lip to stop a smile and relented your grip, and he looked down for a second. It was all it took for him to get back to it, and you let your head fall back with a sigh — case in point.
“The things you do for duty, Chief…”
His tongue kept laving over you as if you were desert, focused, regardless of your taunt. In fact, he seemed to have forgotten where he was or why because his hands started gently exploring your spread thighs. His fingers pressed to your curves and didn’t stop even when he felt the garter that held the knife you had used on him. Instead, he pulled on it, making it snap against your thigh, ripping a stronger moan from you. 
It was then he realized you needed something stronger, so he pressed his face harder against your cunt, latched onto your clit, and started rutting into you. You were surprised but instantly melted, and your fingers curved around his hair. The grind of his lips pressing into you while his mouth held the suction was already maddening, but the thrumming of his tongue on your clit was the cherry on top. You didn’t have time to make it a challenge, or maybe you didn’t want to; his rhythm was perfect against your heat, and you moaned when it intensified. The strumming was precise and maddening, each tap firm and steady, giving you enough time to despair for the next one and moan when it came, leaving you to anticipate what would come next. 
Your hips started moving on their own, and that was when you knew you had let go. There was no point in pretending he wasn’t doing it just like you wanted, or that you weren’t rolling into his face to feel him harder, forcing him to dig his long fingers into the flesh of your hips as he drank the slick melting out of you. The very sounds of his humming and licking drove the blood to your cheeks and emboldened your hips, messily humping against his mouth. You could feel the edge right before you, and every time you ground on his mouth, you thought that would be it.
“Fuck,” you groaned between teeth, looking down to find burning brown eyes drinking you more greedily than his hot mouth. He wasn’t stopping you or holding you back, he was letting you fuck his mouth however you wanted, and it popped you. 
You let your head fall back and pressed his face to your cunt, your moans pitching higher when he sucked harder, as if to pull all the pleasure out of you like it was venom. He rode your climax with you, gripping your trembling legs around him as though he wished you’d smother him, and finally, you looked down. Your walls were still throbbing in the aftershocks when he dragged his tongue across you slowly, and you groaned through a smirk, then pulled him away by the hair.
“Easy there,” you smiled and let your legs down.
You quickly pulled your dress down to cover you again while your other hand raked through your long hair, putting it in place. He rose slowly to his feet with his eyes on you, and you didn’t even try hiding your heaving chest; he could see it well with such an observant gaze. His eyes were so intense that you shuddered and bit your lip, but avoiding them only landed your own on his evident arousal, and you smirked.
Looking up, for a moment, your taunt got caught in your throat. Min Yoongi looked the absolute best covered in your cum from nose to chin — deliciously ravenous.
You licked your lips, raising your hand to his face but stopping before you touched him. He mimicked you, his pink tongue collecting your slick over his lips while he focused on yours. Still, when your hand moved down, so did his eyes. You smirked, dodging his erection at the last second to hide your hand under your dress.
You hummed, closing your eyes as your fingers collected your wetness mixed with his saliva, and then brought them straight to your mouth. You licked them first, tasting what he did before putting them in your mouth and sucking. 
You clenched, knitting your eyebrows as you realized how turned on you were. You were throbbing and craving something to push into you and fuck you senseless, and opening your eyes, you saw the same urge staring right back at you.
Your fingers left your mouth with a pop, and then you smiled, shaking your head, “Should have asked for a good fuck too.”
His dark eyes stayed on yours for a moment, and even when he wiped his chin with the back of his hand, they remained on yours. It was almost a taunt, and you grinned; you loved a good challenge, and even more the kind of fucking that lustful gaze promised. But you knew the worth of asking, and you were not going to come out losing.
“Maybe next time.”
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anakinskwkler · 7 months ago
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"𝑩𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔"
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Anakinxfem!reader
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(This is my first writing so I hope it's good)
Word count: 702
Summary: Anakin got burnt on a mission and thought his wife would find him disgusting.
(Tw! Mentions of burnt skin)
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Anakin had been away on a mission on Mustafar for the past two weeks. Today, he came limping down the temple hall in pain after coming home from the mission, but he wouldn't tell you why. "Anakin? Why are you limping?" you ask after seeing him in the spot you promised you'd meet when he landed. "I'm not, my, uh... my boot is just messed up," he says quickly after making an excuse up. "Anakin, what happened?" you ask worriedly, knowing he was lying. "Nothing, I'm fine," he insists. Later that night, he had been getting ready for bed with you when he threw his shirt off, revealing his burnt, bare chest.
He notices your gaze fall on the burn marks on his chest, and he looks down shamefully. "I got hit with a lava blaster during the mission," he says timidly, as if he's embarrassed about being burned. "Oh, ani, they look painful," you coo as you gently trace your fingers around the marks. "I'm fine," he mumbles, his cheeks flushed pink from being embarrassed about being hurt. "Stop lying, I know they hurt," she says firmly as she examines his fresh burn wounds. "Can I clean them up?" she asks, raising her head so her gaze meets his. "Uh, sure," he mutters, watching as she gets off the bed and walks to their bathroom.
She comes out with a damp, cold cloth and some painkillers. "The cloth will feel nice," you say sweetly as you walk to the bed, sitting on the edge. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asks softly as she pats the damp towel along his burn marks. "Because they're gross..." he whispers. "Mh?" she hums, not hearing him. "Because I'm gross! I have peeling and raw skin, and it's disgusting. I was afraid..." he blurts out. She stops dabbing the cloth and looks up at him, her brows furrowing. "Afraid of what?" she asks gently. He shakes his head, avoiding eye contact as tears prick his eyes. "Afraid you'd think I was gross..." he whispers loud enough for her to hear.
She shakes her head in disbelief, gently grips his chin so she can look into his eyes, and says, "Anakin, I would never, ever in a million years find you gross. It's simply not possible. These burns are evidence of the battles you've won, the missions you've completed, and they show how strong you are." Staring deeply into his eyes with empathy, she cups his cheeks and wipes his tears away with her thumb. "I love you more than anything, no matter what you look like. I love you beyond these burns."
Anakin looks at her with disbelief. "Y-you don't think they're gross?" he asks with a sniffle.
"Never," she says simply. "All I ever want to do is make you feel loved, cared for, and comfortable. I'd never judge you for anything like that. You could never be 'disgusting' or 'gross.' You are so handsome, Anakin. No burns could take that away." You say as you dab the cloth on his chest. Anakin watches you as he sniffles, his hands resting on your knee and fidgeting with your shirt.
"You're my world," Anakin speaks up, causing her to raise her head. "I'm serious. There's nothing on this planet, or in this galaxy, or in this universe that I love more than you." He says as he leans closer to wrap his arms around your back. You wrap your arms around his back too, cradling his head and rubbing his back gently before hearing him wince. "There are burns on my back too," Anakin groans. "Shit, sorry," She says as she moves her hand off his back and grabs the cloth to pat it along his back.
Anakin pulls away to look down at her, his eyes glassy, but he's done crying. "I love you," he whispers. "I love you too," she says before cupping his face again and kissing his forehead, cheeks, the tip of his nose, and then his lips. "Burns and all."
That night, Anakin fell asleep with his head resting on your chest while you played with his curls, pressing soft kisses to his temple or the top of his head every now and then.
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Please tell me how I did! I hope you liked it!!! If anyone has any recommendations or help, it would be very much appreciated.
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thatwritterbeach · 5 months ago
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One messed up bat pt.1
Dc masterlist all other parts found here
Batfam x femreader Jason x reader eventually
Warnings: angst, self harm, self hate, depression,
Summary:Y/n gets caught self harming by Damian, and Tim calls in some backup
A/N: I do not own dc booohooo ooc Tim, I don't spend much time watching/reading his robin sorry **^ so I can't remember if it's canon or from a fic but at this point who cares the storyline is all fucked so in this story I'm saying that Jason tried to call dick for help with his mom but dick was asleep/didn't pick up so Jay went alone and died, now Dick CAN NOT miss a phone call it sends him into a panic attack, thank you for coming to my trauma talk
ok so we all know the timeline is shit so this is the ages for this story only found it on a reddit post, fight me at dawn if you don't like it
Bruce Wayne (Batman) at 45
Barbara Gordon (Oracle) at 27
Dick Grayson (Nightwing) at 25
Jason Todd (Red Hood) at 22
Tim Drake (Red Robin) at 18
Damian Wayne (Robin) at 11
Y/n 21
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not my gif^
(2 weeks ago)
"Y/n, you can't keep acting like a child you're twenty-one," Dick whisper shouted in the corner of the batcave.
"Dick, I'm not going to apologize for helping people-"
"You disobeyed a direct order. You could have been hurt, you can't be that kind of influence to Tim and Damian."
"You don't even live here, Dick, you can't just-"
"You're benched until further notice."
"You can't-"
"Benched," Bruce confirmed stepping over to them.
(1 week ago)
"Hey, Dick, do you have a sec," she asked into the phone then immediately bit firmly into her hand to hold back a sob.
"You're still benched," he said without remorse.
"That's not-you know what never mind." She hung up on him and threw the phone onto her bed heading to her en-suite bathroom to release the itch.
(present)
"Beloved! Beloved, look I-," Damian shouted with glee but cut himself off with a scream when he opened her unlocked bathroom door. He thought she was doing her face masks not...in the bathtub with blood dripping from her arms into pink bubble filled water.
"Damian wait," she called after his retreating form. Shit, shit. She hurried to drain the water and throw on her over sized t-shirt just managing to pull some boxers on when Damian burst back in with Tim, practically dragging him into the space.
"Damian what's the problem-"
"Fix her," he shouted with haste and was about to shove Tim into the room when he noticed y/n standing there looking fine.
"Damian, I'm ok, I promise," she tried to convince him softly. He looked from her to the tub, not even a drop of evidence in sight.
"No, you-I saw the blood. Tim she cut herself I saw it," he told the older boy trying to lunge for her arm but she side stepped him.
"Damian, give us a minute," Tim tried to gently shoo him away. Damian shook his head aggressively and latched himself onto her side, clinging to her like a koala. She combed her fingers through his hair and gently detangled him.
"Dami, Tim and I just need to have a quick chat, he's gonna fix me right up, aren't you, Tim," she asked, sending him a look that clearly gave direction.
"Yeah, kid, I'll take care of her, she'll be right as rain."
"You won't hurt yourself again?" He was giving her puppy eyes, looking his own age for once and it pulled on her heart strings.
"I won't," she agreed patting him on the head and crossing her fingers behind her back with the other hand. Damian gave her one last hug then hurried out of the room. There was an awkward silence as Tim stood blocking the doorway, his jaw ticking and toe nearly tapping.
"You know I have to tell."
"Please don't." She shook her head then grabbed the first aid kit beneath the sink.
"Let me," he said softly, taking it from her and getting out the supplies. When she set her arm on the counter for him to work he sucked in a breath. "Those are deep," he accused.
"I wasn't trying anything. I'm not stupid, just a heavy bleeder." She rolled her eyes where he couldn't see and hissed when he dumped alcohol on her arm.
"They almost need stitches."
"Butterfly stickers are fine," she said digging them out of the kit one handed.
"I at least have to tell Dick-"
"NO," she said so firm he actually stepped back to look at her.
"I have to tell someone, I can't watch you 24/7."
"I don't need babysat," she seethed.
"I can tell Bruce or I can tell Dick first. Either way you aren't doing this alone."
"I cant stop you?"
"Not a chance."
"Dick told me I needed to be a better influence for you. Sorry for fucking that up, but to be fair there's worse things about me. I tried to call him a week ago, I was feeling the um...the 'itch' so to speak but as soon as he picked up he told me I was still benched. I was so pissed that he immediately thought that's what I called for I told him never mind and hung up. You can't tell him that, after Jason you know he-"
"Hates missing phone calls," Tim finished for her. **^
Tim had every intention of telling him, he knew it would hurt but come on, she tried to get help. Of course she didn't ask anyone in the house, but he wasn't about to be offended she didn't ask the child or his newly adult self for help, and he sure as hell got the not wanting to tell Bruce.
"Why not Alfred?"
"Hmm?"
"Why didn't you go to Alfred for help."
"He deals with enough shit from the rest of you, coming in half dead each night."
"That doesn't mean you come second, and sure as hell not last, we love you."
"Yeah, well it doesn't feel like it most of the time." He was finished with her arm and she resisted the urge to yank it away from him. One of Jason's flannel was on a towel hook on the wall and she quickly put it on to hide the bandages.
"I'm gonna go make sure Dami's ok," she said gently moving him out of the way. The second she was gone he hurried back to his room for his phone, that he'd left on the charger and yanked the cord out. He hit speed dial 3, Dick's cell, and held the phone to his ear while he headed out on his balcony to totally not scale down the wall instead of taking the stairs. Dick picked up on the 4th ring with a tired sigh and a 'this better be good' Tim told him to wait a sec while he got way out of hearing range.
"Did Y/n call you last week?"
"Uh, yeah, why?"
"Did you jump her case and not give her a second to speak?"
"You sound a bit pissed timbers, cut to it and tell me what I did. I haven't slept in 37 and a half hours."
"And you call me an idiot," he snorted.
"Tick tock bro," Dick mumbled head already sinking into his pillow.
"She'd been cutting herself and she called you to ask for help, well, she didn't say that word, but she was calling to tell you what she'd been doing to herself," Tim stated with little to no remorse for the heart attack he'd just given his brother.
"She what," Dick shouted throwing off the blankets and grabbing his go bag.
"I assume you'll catch the next train?" The sound of Dick falling and cursing while he hopped into pants could be heard and Tim nodded and hung up. Thankfully because the author said so Dick had switched from his police job to a remote roll in Wayne industries he just stayed in Bludhaven to have his independence and not deal with Bruce more than he had to. Alfred insisted he come for monthly dinners and he did.
Tim went back inside to hunt for Y/n and Damian and found them having mugs of hot chocolate together on the kitchen counter.
"So, you're ok," Damian asked in a small voice using a stir stick to hold his marshmallows under the liquid.
"I told you, Tim fixed me, and he probably ran off to call Dick so he could come make double sure I'm ok. You don't need to worry, I promise I'll always be here to have hot cocoa with," she replied, crossing her heart and holding out her pinkie to him. He hooks his with hers and to her surprise continued to hold on, not moving to actually hold her hand but simply letting their hands rest on the counter pinkies linked. Not wanting to interrupt Tim quietly made his way back out, he still had some calls to make.
Jason picked didn't pick up on the first call, or the second but finally on the third he answered out of breath and with gunshots loud in the foreground.
"The hell dya' want," he all but shouted into the line dodging hits and getting in several of his own.
"Sorry, I'll call back later-"
"No, talk now, I got it under *way too loud thud* control."
"Just uh, get here as quick as you can, nobodies dying so-"
"Make it quick but don't freak, got it." And he hung up. Next was Bruce who surprise surprise didn't answer a call or text, so Tim left a message.
"Get off Selena and come help your kid," he said with more aggression than snark. (this doesn't feel at all like something Tim would say but i'm not familiar enough with his character to fix it)
This time when he went to the kitchen it was just Y/n on the counter Damian had gone who knows where.
"So who all did you tell?"
"Just Dick so far, he's on his way. Jason was in the middle of a fight so he's coming later but I didn't tell him and Bruce didn't pick up-"
"Shocker, dude nabs all these kids then can't be bothered to spend time with them outside of a Halloween costume," she scoffed rolling her eyes.
"You're not wrong but-"
"Oh, don't start Stan." She waved him off hopping down to wash the mugs not willing to leave them for Alfred.
9-20-24
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