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#if you try and let yourself be happy its much easier to be happy for other people
gtzgoblin · 13 days
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Keep seeing the old "oh look at me, I've seen the northern lights" meme (on other social media admittedly, not here, here's pretty well adjusted (didya think I'd ever be saying that?)) and can't help but wonder why people just can't be happy that other people are getting joy out of something...?
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i-cant-sing · 5 months
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I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.
No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.
Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.
Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.
Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).
The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"
And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.
You didn't like either nickname.
Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.
Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.
And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.
Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.
Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.
"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"
After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.
The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.
It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"
Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.
Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.
You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.
You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.
It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.
"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."
She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.
She died on the spot.
Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.
She wasn't a fucking Wayne.
If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.
But you didn't.
When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.
"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"
You sighed. Might as well get this over with.
You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.
"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."
Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"
"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."
"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.
"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.
"But I don't want you to move-"
You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"
Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.
"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"
Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"
"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.
-
They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.
He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.
Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.
"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.
"What now?"
"Where are you going?" Tim asked.
"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.
"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?
"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.
"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.
You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-
They were all dead serious.
"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.
"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.
"Bruce-"
"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."
"I'm fine-"
"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."
You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.
Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.
After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.
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wndasgoodgirl · 21 days
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Letting Mommy wanda feel good, she loves fucking you with her strap. (18+ only contains:oral sex , strap on sex , cum eating , a little rough mommy kink, bottom f reader , and dom mommy Wanda)
“Mommy please” you whine pushing on Wanda’s hips hoping she would get the hint. “Shh baby let mommy use you” Wanda roughly thrusts in and out of your pussy moaning at how tight you were. Trying to distract from Wanda’s quick pace, you pulled her closer down to you and tried to kiss her. “Not..now..baby” Wanda groaned and adjusted the strap so her own clit was rubbing at a certain angle. “Mommy needs to focus” she lays her hand on your stomach, the strap flicking against your clit made you moan and close your legs.
“Keep your legs spread for mommy” she pushes your legs out so you could spread them but the stimulation was just too much for you. “You wanna make mommy happy right?” Wanda asks smirking at your blushing face, “Make it easier for mommy and spread your pretty legs wider for me…I don’t wanna have to force them apart” she grins slowing her thrusting but never thinking of stopping.
You spread your legs wider feeling the strap stretch you out and the sensation getting more and more intense. “Oww..uhuh” you moan loudly feeling a tight squeeze on your clit, “Look at me baby” Wanda moves your head so it titled looking at her. “Baby..try to relax” Wanda held your hand feeling your sweaty palms
“Uhh.mommy” you whine holding her hips feeling like your gonna explode, “I’m gonna cum..I’m gonna cum..I’m gonna cu-“ you groan throwing your head back cumming all over Wanda’s strap. Your legs twitching as Wanda continues her pace. “So much cum for mommy...baby?…my good girl what is it?” You whimper at the strap that was still inside you.
Wanda keeps going with her rather fast pace, cum dripping out of you while the strap kept penetrating your pussy. “All d-done mommy” you try and move so she could slowly pull out. She pulls out to lay beside you, her strap covered with sticky cum, dripping down the sides. And all down her thigh.
She turns to see you staring at the strap and back up at her face to see her glazed eyes. She uses her finger to catch some cum on her finger licking and sucking, moaning at the taste. “So fucking delicious babyy” she repeats her actions again and again, watching you practically drool. “Mommyy..” you whine spreading your legs to reveal cum still dripping from your core. “Oh but baby I thought you were all done” she mocked you, “But I guess I can just clean you up..and nothing else”. She pretended to think, noticing your finger making its way down to your clit.
“Yes please mommy yes” you smile watching Wanda finish and move down to your soaked pussy. “Just cleaning you up baby…you’re not gonna cum again..unless you want to be punished”. Wanda said between licks, moving around bumping your clit with the top of her nose, making your body twitch. “Control yourself baby..I’m barely licking you” Wanda holds you down, moaning into you. “All done baby” Wanda pulls away from your pussy wiping off her face and licking the strings of cum on her lips. She watched your face go from blush red to disappointment, “I told you..i was just..cleaning you up” Wanda smirked taking off the strap and throwing it on the nightstand.
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her-favorite · 16 days
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A HUNCH; M. STURNIOLO
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MATT STURNIOLO X F!(QUIET)!READER
warnings: none!
a/n: requested! hopefully you like it anon! <3
wc: 1,154 (short)
SYNOPSIS: The beginning of a relationship may be rocky, but with you and Matt, it never happened that way. He understood you more than anyone else, and he always knew what you wanted before you even had to say it.
-
You knew it was kind of foolish to be nervous to ask something of someone - especially someone like your boyfriend - but it never came easy to you.
You and Matt have only been official for a little over two months, but it’s already been a million times better than your other relationships. You’ve known him and the triplets for a little while now and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t drawn to Matt the very second you saw him. His perfectly parted hair, his pretty eyes, his smile.
For someone as reserved as yourself, your closest friends around you could always tell you had more than just kind feelings for the boy. But being that reserved person, it wasn’t easy to admit something like that, let alone tell Matt you’ve developed romantic feelings for him. So, you spent years trying to convince yourself that your admiration for the boy was purely platonic. You couldn’t face it if he were to reject you; you wouldn’t just be losing the boy you loved, but your best friends, too.
To anyone else but you, it was even more obvious the feelings Matt has for you were. Lingering glances, smiling a little too wide when you decided to participate in a group activity, or the butterflies he felt swarming in his stomach when he ‘accidentally’ sits a tad too close to you on the couch. But he could never tell you how he feels.. you’d only reject him, right?
After far too long, Nick and Chris were tired of the silent pining. From the quiet, defeated sighs that left your mouth when Matt didn’t join your movie nights, to the whining from their brother about how much he wishes you were his girl.
Once the two boys were done playing matchmaker, you and Matt couldn’t be happier together. With the relationship still being in its early stages, it still took some getting used to everything a real relationship comes with. It never upset you, you were more than happy to be able to experience something like this with the man you were hopelessly in love with for the past few years. But that didn’t mean anything about you changed.
You still liked to keep to yourself, to not cause a distraction, or to not speak when you didn’t feel like doing so. And Matt still (and will always) loves that about you.
You both tended to be quiet people, especially in public, it just felt more natural to the two of you. And with that, it was easier to confide in each other, since you both understand how the other may feel in that moment. You couldn’t be more ecstatic to have such a patient and understanding boyfriend.
But even with your love and trust in him, the anxiousness for rejection still lingered in the back of your mind. You were never one for hugs or anything of the sort, but with Matt… it was different. His touch was comforting and safe; it left you with a warm feeling inside.
You wanted it.. you just hated asking for it.
It wasn’t too often that Matt held you in his arms, besides at night. If he notices you becoming anxious in a public setting, he’ll immediately reach for your hand and bring you close to him, but other than that, Matt just doesn’t want to overwhelm you.
He’d love to smother your face with kisses and make you rest on his chest while you guys watch a movie together, but he knows that sometimes physical touch can be too much on a bad day.
Every since he met you, he always found you interesting. Not just because you were quiet or held a lot of the same qualities as him, but because of the way you handle yourself (your beauty was just a bonus). From then on, he’s studied the way you react to certain phrases and plans and made sure to either avoid specific outings or to do something that came natural to him: being quiet. Sometimes silence can be tense and awkward, but with Matt, it was only the opposite. It felt secure, a soft layer of comfortable solitude shared with another person.
As you sat on the couch at the triplets’ house, you wait for your boyfriend to get out of the bathroom as you click through unseen movies. Hearing the door creak, it grabs your ears’ attention but doesn’t make your head turn.
“Finally.” You tease softly, glancing over at him. Matt walks over to you in a plain white tee with plaid pajama pants, the untied string seemingly holding them up without having to be tied. His hair was slightly messy, his hands in it just seconds prior. Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from the pretty man, your eyes focus back on the tv screen a few feet away.
“Hey.” Matt huffs lightly, throwing himself down on the couch beside you. “Did you pick anything yet?” He asks, following your line of sight, watching the movie titles pass by. With a shake of your head in response, he chuckles softly. “You’re making fun of me for how long I was in the bathroom, but you haven’t picked a movie the entire time?” He says playfully, poking your side gently. Smacking his hand away once it starts to tickle, you send him a joking glare, a small smile tugging at your lips once you see his.
A few minutes pass and you both decide to rewatch one of your favorites, too exhausted to pick and find a new one. Sitting beside him, Matt sprawled out on his couch, giving his legs room to stretch. He quickly picked up on your tense body language as your legs scrunch up under yourself and the way - only he could see - your fingers twitched, signaling for something more.
“C’mere, baby,” Matt broke the silent argument in your head as you looked over at him. He was motioning for you to get closer as he lightly patted his legs. Sensing your hesitation, his hands envelope your hips, gasping when he drags you over towards him. Lying you down on top of him, he wraps his arms around your back, squeezing you into him. “‘S’this okay?” He whispers, his head resting on yours as you dig yours further into his neck.
“Mhm,” humming in response, your once-tense body relaxes in his hold, immediately becoming one with him. His steady heartbeat calmed you as yours became synced.
“Don’t be scared to ask me somethin’, okay? You know I have absolutely no problem holding my girl.” Matt whispers, pressing a sweet kiss to your head, rubbing a gentle hand up and down your back.
With a quiet, “okay,” leaving your lips, you let yourself melt into him, slowing succumbing to sleep instead of rewatching a movie you considered a classic.
Only he knew you better than yourself.
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ghostlychief · 1 year
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*riding ghost*
NSFW: MINORS DNI
warnings: riding; smut🥴 is that enough warning lol pls don’t read if you’re a minor 😭
this honestly just popped up into my head and I frantically started typing on my phone (bear with me bc I haven’t written anything smutty in so long and never have been good at it lol) anyways happy Friday!
--
You legs start to shake as you continuously lift yourself up then effortlessly slide back down on Ghost’s dick. The stretch is immaculate and you find yourself with your head tilted back with your eyes closed, soaking in his size and the euphoric current flowing through you right now.
In order to ground yourself, your hands move to hold onto Ghost’s that are grasping your waist. Although his grip is firm, it’s not too much for you and you love the pressure. As you move up and down, your breasts graze his sweaty chest, making your already overly sensitive nipples tingle.
You’re getting tired, and you’re about to reach your max. This will be your fourth climax and your poor body is reaching its limit. You let out a whimper and move one hand so it’s resting on his shoulder now. Ghost can tell you’re almost there.
“C’mon, baby. Just one more for me.” His grip tightens just a little so that he can help you move up and down, alleviating some of the stress on your legs. The slickness between your legs is getting more and more out of control as you get closer and closer to your demise.
With a shaky breath and a hint of a whine, you confess, “I don’t know if I can.” Your legs are exhausted, heart is pounding, but he just feels so good that even in your tired state, you still feel such a sense of blissfulness; you can’t stop.
“Yes you can.” His hands continue to help you move, which makes it easier to go at a faster pace.
“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You let out a whine at his praise.
His hand moves where your two bodies meet and moves his fingers in slow agonizing circles. You’re at the precipice, ready to drop any moment. When you finally do, you feel a bright warmness spread through your entire body, and you can also feel Ghost shudder under you.
You collapse against his chest and wrap your arms around his neck. His hand gingerly comes up to stroke your spine and you’re trying your best not to fall asleep.
“See, I knew you could do it.” He has a teasing lilt to his tone, and even though you can’t see his face, you know a smirk is coating his lips. If your body wasn’t drained of energy, you would have slapped his shoulder.
You let out a grunt against his shoulder, “You owe me a massage.”
You feel him shrug under you, “Fair enough.”
IDK WHAT THIS IS BUT HOPE YOU ENJOYED <3 I haven’t written anything smutty in so long so this is probably trash 😶
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renku · 2 months
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Catering Demand and Need
Loossemble Yeojin x Male Reader
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“Yeojin, what are you doing down there?”
“Nothing, oppa... You took so long to get here,” Yeojin playfully twirls her hair while still exposing her thighs out, “I’m kinda lonely here without my unnies...”
“Now’s not the time, Yeojin.”
Yeojin pouted and climbed on the couch, slouching to show her disappointment.
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What am I going to do with her? This old, repititive question is almost a million dollar question in Mathematics that the most brilliant minds in the world try to solve. But Yeonjin is on another level. Try with all might and sheer will, it’s always her—Yeojin always, always wins.
Letting a sigh as a sign of defeat before sitting beside her, Yeojin knew that it’ll happen no matter what—she will prevail.
“Baby girl?” soft yet manly tone, a maintained balance of persuasion and dominance. Yeojin must know she’s the one in need, and the one that needs to earn it.
No answer. As expected. Yeojin’s habit of putting the act for a bit longer serves as her trump card. Just to get this over with, let Yeojin have it her way.
Felt the touch from your index finger on her silky thigh, gradually sliding upward until it reaches the hem of the laced white dress. Inaudible gasp escaped her lips, and goosebumps spread all over her.
“Still not going to answer, baby girl?”
Yeojin is a tough cookie to break. Well, you already did literally before but it’s the attitude. She could just gave a nod or a simple 'yes' or 'no' to make things easier. If a newbie managed to survive the job as her manager, it’ll be a breakthrough. But here you are, still on the same role and job.
It would only be a matter of time before the others arrive. Compromising others’ time and schedule would spell disaster. Raising the hem of her dress, a pleasant smell greeted your nose—fresh rose scent from her favorite feminine wash, and visual blessing by means of a matched red-laced panties; enough to increase the blood flow in all the right areas in your body.
As much as you want to tease Yeojin first, it’s just simply impractical and dangerous at the current circumstances.
Grabbing and pulling her undergarments in one go; almost breaking it at the process. Your hands found their place in Yeojin's petite cheeks—oh, for the love of Venus—supple and irresistible.
“O- op- uhm– Daddy?”
Thank God, she finally spoke. And she just used her ultimate move. The perfect trigger—climbing to the level of overdrive.
“Yes, baby girl?”
“Will Daddy punish me for not behaving good?” Yeojin turned around to look at you with her half-lidded eyes. Fuck. So vulnerable yet ruinable.
“Yes, my baby girl needs to learn again to listen.”
Spreading her cheeks there lies her impatient lubricated cunt; dripping, already forming a pool on the couch but it doesn’t matter anymore. Unbuckling your belt with haste to push down your pants and briefs in one go just enough to let out your raging cock.
“All fours, now.”
Yeojin didn’t even hesitate for a second. She got herself into position right away.
A two, quick strokes on your cock before lining up yourself in her entrance. The glans kissed her labia, making Yeojin whimper.
“Hmmp–”
“Still not used to this, baby girl?”
“It’s just– Daddy’s cock is too big for my pus– AH!”
Not letting Yeojin finish as you pulled her waist to penetrate her deep right away. Tight. Warm. Wet. Perfect. Words could not even experiencing the real thing. Its grip like it's holding on for its dear life? Priceless. That is why you can keep with Yeojin and her stubbornness, when there’s a sweet prize only you and you can claim.
Your hips knew what they suppose to do—starting from a nice, good rhythm gradually increasing tempo. Clapping sounds growing stronger each second.
“Yes- oh- oh- fuck- yes, daddy! I miss your big cock so much!” Yeojin really screams her heart out in happiness, or pleasure, or both in general. Her cute, lewd voice—the same one she uses to record their songs which her fans enjoy. Well, you couldn’t totally blame them. It’s an earcandy.
“Shit. So good- ugh!” you grunted.
Dirty, filthy sounds—moans, whimpers, two fleshes clapping against the other, and compliments of how two bodies give each other pleasure—are what filled the room basically. You and Yeojin may not admit it but you can’t get enough of each other. It’s like a need that turned into addiction. Yin-yang. Light and dark. Good and bad.
But like everything else, there’s always an end. Your phone rings, and the ringtone is specifically assigned for the group. They’re about to arrive in no time. Time to finish the business and thankfully Lady Luck is on your side.
“Yeojin, fuck, argh, I’m close!”
“Yes, Daddy! Do it inside! Breed me, fill me with your cum!”
Even without her words, you’re about to do it anyway. Spraying all your semen on the couch is not a good news for the others.
“I'm cumming!”
With your final forceful thrust, burying your cock deep inside, ropes and ropes of cum reached her womb, painting her insides. Yeojin’s still tight pussy milking you out—baby girl claiming her prize. She also came as her spasms were noticeable; her body barely keeping steady from her position. Upon slipping out your cock, you pulled her panties back immediately to avoid any droplets of cum reaching the couch.
Yeojin was exhausted real good. But she has to fix herself before the girls see her ruined and messed up.
“Get up, Yeojin. Your unnies are coming. We need to fix ourselves and everything else before they arrive.”
“Ok... yes, oppa,” she said, her voice showing signs of fatigue.
~~~
After making sure no trace was left on the crime scene, the girls arrived just on time. The assistant manager was the one who handled them for the meantime. They looked tired on the ride going home.
“Oh, manager-nim, Yeojin, you two are here already? How lucky!” one of the girls said.
“Just need to talk about something with our lovely maknae,” you replied.
“What is it?”
“Oh, nothing serious. Just a few reminders from the company.”
“I see. Well, we better go to bed it’s already getting late.”
“Right, right. Shall we, Yeojin?”
“Yes, manager-nim!” she responded with such enthusiasm, and winked at you before going to her room.
“Oh, please,” you sighed, as the exhilarating job of keeping up with them especially Yeojin, continues. Sadly.
A/N: Purely BFH and done in one sitting. Seeing Yeojin was just- hoo, nevermind. Anyway, the fic is unedited so forgive me for a few mistakes. Have work tomorrow but still finished this using the writing juices I have. Hope you enjoy! Have a good day, or night!
- Ren :)
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heizlut · 3 months
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Jealousy pt 2 😍 (I love ur writing sm omgz..) (have a good day/night)
i’m sooo sorry i’m just now getting to this. this request and the others before this one were made when i was getting my life together after my breakup but i’m here now! thank you so much, i’m so happy you love my writing❤️❤️ since you didn’t specify specific characters, this one will be with cyno, wanderer, ayato, and heizou☺️ (i never write for them and they need to be shown some love)
cw: none!
tags: multiple chars x reader (separate), lowkey yandere!ayato, fem!reader
read part 1 here!
m!list here
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Cyno~
You and Cyno had been together for so long now. It had started when you were introduced through Tighnari, who had taken you on as his newest assistant after hearing about how you made the top of your class in the same darshan Tighnari graduated from a few of years prior. Tighnari would go on and on about how much easier his research has been since you became his assistant until Cyno had enough and demanded to meet you. Cyno hates to admit it, but it was practically love at first sight. Not only were you a strong fighter with good instincts when you needed to be, you were also whole-heartedly passionate for what you held interest in.
Cyno had asked you and Tighnari to take a break from research to join him for TCG night at the tavern, to which you both agreed. Once arriving to the tavern, you three take your usual table and get set up for the match. Drinks were ordered to the table and the heated match began. When it came to playing TCG with Cyno, the matches either ended swiftly or he would purposefully draw them out just to win in the end. Somehow, over the course of the match, you and Tighnari ended up helping each other here and there with, whispering in each other's ears about strategies for your next moves.
Cyno watched the two of you, not particularly enjoying how physically close you two were getting as you both snickered and whispered to each other. He did his best to keep his cool until Tighnari's fingers grazed yours as he turned your deck towards him to guide you on your next move. You paid no mind to it, but Cyno could feel the possessed spirit within him practically clawing its way out of his body, looking for a fight. Tighnari was the first to notice the subtle flashes of purple light that began to linger around Cyno's body, a clear sign that the spirit was trying to take over, "Um, Cyno?"
Tighnari's concerned tone made you look up from your cards to see the sight before you. Your smile slips into one of concern and you get up from the table and move towards Cyno's spot, "How about we take a break and get some fresh air? Just you and me..." Cyno's red eyes seem to flash as they meet yours, but all he does is nod. You give an apologetic smile to Tighnari who just nods in understanding. You and Cyno step outside into the sticky, hot night. You reach up with both hands, placing them lightly on his tanned cheeks, "Cyno, love... Tell me what's wrong?"
The sweet, soft sound of your voice, your gentle touch, and the way you were looking at him with such love and concern put the possessed spirit to rest. He looks into your eyes and sighs, not one to admit his emotions let alone jealousy, "I don't want to talk about it at the moment." His tone monotone as usual, but the look in his eyes held a hint of longing, "As much as I hate to say this, let's forget about the match and go home...please." You kiss the tip of his nose, making his cheeks go a light shade of red, "Alright. Let's gather our things and say goodbye to our friend."
Wanderer~
Ever since Wanderer regained his memories, Nahida had asked you to keep an eye on him. You two hardly got along until one night, months ago, he kissed you. He likes to say it was a temporary moment of weakness, but you knew better. Ever since then, you two have been almost inseparable as you helped him with Akademiya projects or wandered through Sumeru.
On this particular afternoon, you had resigned yourself to the House of Daena with a male student you couldn't remember the name of for the life of you. He approached you knowing that you always helped Wanderer get the best grades on his project and promised to pay you handsomely if you could help him as well. You shrugged and agreed, not denying the chance to earn such a nice amount of mora.
Wanderer was pissed when he couldn't find you until he entered the House Of Daena. He felt ready to explode when he saw you sitting so close to that random guy, seemingly laughing at something he had said while you reached over (a little too close in Wanderer's opinion), making a correction on the guy's paper. You look up with surprise which turns to the cutest smile when you see Wanderer approach the table, completely unaware of just how pissed off he was. The foul look on Wanderer's face didn't go unnoticed by the guy you were working with who now had a subtle smirk on his face.
Wanderer's eyebrows furrow as he clenches his fist, "I suggest you wipe that stupid smirk off your face and walk away now while you still can." You blink once in confusion. Your eyes flitting between the guy and your boyfriend, "What are you going on about now?" Wanderer's frustrated gaze falls to you, his demeanor almost cracks when he sees how cute and oblivious you look. Then his gaze returns to the guy who hasn't made a single move to leave, "I gave you a warning already. Don't make me repeat myself or you won't have legs to walk away with."
The guy puts his hands up defensively and takes his stuff, only leaving half the amount he had promised to pay you as he walks away grumbling to himself. You look up at Wanderer, your initial shock morphing into quiet laughter that you tried so hard to hold in. He plops himself into the seat next to you, shooting you a glare, "What's so funny?" The childlike angry pout on his face made it hard to contain your laughter, "Are you jealous right now?" Wanderer looks like you just said the greatest insult, but the redness of his cheeks give away how embarrassed he is, "Yeah, right. As if I'd be jealous of a weak nobody." You lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, which makes him blush up to his ears, "Whatever you say~"
Ayato~
You were so precious to Ayato. He simply cannot imagine his life without you. You were smart, strong, and so sweet; he couldn't ever get enough of you. It wasn't really a secret how close Ayato kept you. Honestly he was a bit too obsessed with you, but that's part of what made you fall for him in the first place. Wherever he was, you were too. Except for today.
Today you had spent most of your day with Aether helping him with a commission he had insisted he needed your guidance on. Of course, you had asked Ayato from permission first. That's just how your relationship was and you didn't mind it one bit. Ayato was a bit wary of sending you off without him being by your side, but Aether insisted he would keep you safe and he knew you were capable of handling yourself. So, begrudgingly, Ayato agreed but made you promise to be back before nightfall, dragging you in for an over the top kiss to your lips.
Hours had gone by and Ayato felt he was about to go insane without you by his side. He gets up from his desk and begins pacing the estate, bringing on questioning looks from the guards and groundskeepers. It's not long until he hears one of the guards by the main gate give his greeting. It takes Ayato so much restraint to keep himself from practically storming over to you and taking you into his arms. Aether was still with you, and Ayato had an image to upkeep. What he didn't expect to see was Aether holding you as if you were his bride as he entered the grounds. "What is the meaning of this?", Ayato demands as he quickly approaches the two of you.
You stir in Aether's arms, turning your head to give Ayato a tired smile before your eyes close once again. Ayato is absolutely furious as he practically rips you out of Aether's arms, making you let out a sleepy groan, "You have three seconds to explain why you have brought her home in such a state, in your arms no less." You nuzzle into Ayato's chest and Aether releases a breath, "We got dragged into a fight with some Kairagi." If Ayato hadn't been holding you tightly in his arms, he would have drawn his sword to Aether's throat. Sensing the immense anger, Aether raises his hands defensively, "Don't worry, she doesn't have a single scratch on her. I think she just passed out from exhaustion."
Ayato looks down at your beautiful sleeping face, then glares up at Aether, "Do you mean to tell me you checked her body for scratches? I've heard enough. Please exit quickly before I do something I may come to regret." Aether looks sincerely apologetic as he leaves the estate and Ayato carries you to your shared bedroom. Once he lays you on the bed, he gets in and immediately holds you as if you were going to disappear right in front of his eyes. Ayato nuzzles into your hair, breathing in your scent, speaking softly so as to not wake you, "I will not allow any man to touch you nor allow you to leave my presence ever again."
Heizou~
Everyone knew you were Detective Heizou's girlfriend. He would never shut up about you, going on and on about how you're almost just as bright as he is when it comes to solving cases. It also takes a lot for him to feel jealousy with the big ego he has. How could anyone be better than him? That would be absurd and simply out of the question. But one person seems to put him on edge despite both of you being so close to him: Kazuha.
There was something about Kazuha's easy-going and free-spirited nature that made Heizou want to pay close attention to the way you and him acted while in each other's presence. It wasn't that he didn't trust you or Kazuha, he just had this unfamiliar feeling that bubbled up inside of him whenever he would see you laugh together or be near each other. The night stars were shining brightly as the three of you laid on an empty cliff, away from the main city of Inazuma. You were laying between both boys as you admired the twinkling stars. You and Kazuha were going on and on about the constellations, recalling the mythology behind them with such passion and romanticism. You and Kazuha were very similar in that aspect. Everything to you both had a sense of romance to it which Heizou normally found endearing, but not in this moment.
Kazuha was telling you the story behind Orion's constellation as you listened with great intrigue. Heizou was growing jealous of the conversation and the way you kept looking from Kazuha and back up to the stars. Heizou wanted you to do that for him. You were his girlfriend for fucks sake, not Kazuha's. So he makes a quick decision, grabbing your hand to get your attention, effectively cutting Kazuha off from his story-telling by butting in, "I know of an even better story." You and Kazuha look to Heizou, confused but interested. Heizou clears his throat and begins telling a tale of a god who gave up his power for a human girl he had fallen for just so that he could be with her. When he finishes, you and Kazuha share a look and you speak up first, "Did you just make that up?"
Heizou's face heats up and he frowns, looking away from you both which makes you laugh, "Why are you pouting? It was a cute story, love." Kazuha tries his best not to laugh which only makes Heizou more annoyed, "Why is it that you can romance my girlfriend but I can't?" Now both you and Kazuha begin to laugh, not at Heizou, but of the absurdity of his statement. Now furious with jealousy, Heizou moves to get up from his spot, but you grab hold of his hand, giving him a silly smile, "You don't need to 'romance' me with silly stories, I much prefer your ramblings when you're going on about a case." Heizou's expression relaxes, but still huffs out a breath, "Then quit getting all gooey with him over those balls of gas in the sky." Kazuha finds this to be the perfect opportunity to crack a joke, "Would you prefer we discuss other types of balls instead?" This makes Heizou's demeanor crack completely as laughter from all three of you fills the night air.
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a/n: writing this made me realize i actually love writing for ayato! he gives serious yandere vibes but in the best way. i hope you liked this anon❤️
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agi-ppangx · 5 months
Text
fragile (lee minho x gn!reader)
warnings: depressive episode, mentions of suicidal thoughts
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“it’s like…” you started hesitantly, picking at the petals of the daisy you were holding in your hand. “recently even existing feels like a chore,” you mumbled, looking down at the crumpled flower. minho glanced at you from his spot.
“elaborate?”
minho had decided to bring you to the meadow far away from your home because, quote, “fresh air will stop your head from hurting. you’ve been complaining about that a lot recently”. you thought it was silly, him wanting you to leave the comfort and familiarity of your bed, but it was minho after all - if you didn’t comply he would simply pick you up and carry you to the car himself.
“if i knew i wouldn’t wake up tomorrow i’d go to sleep right now,” you responded, shrugging your shoulders, and you threw the daisy onto the ground. the soft, spring wind brushed through your messy hair, making you close your eyes. even nature treated you ever so gently - why couldn’t you do the same for yourself?
the tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you whined, laying down on the blanket and curling into a ball, letting the tears fall down your face.
“i just don’t see the purpose, you know? i attend my classes but i can’t even focus on the topic, i sleep a lot but i’m still fucking exhausted and–” you stopped, taking in a sharp breath. you squeezed your eyes, desperately trying to calm down. inhale, one, two, three, exhale. repeat.
you opened your eyes, the bright sun rays blinding you, but its warmth on your skin felt oddly soothing. you looked at the clouds slowly making their way into the unknown. weren’t they scared of it?
you exhaled loudly, sitting up again and wiping your damp cheeks.
“i don’t know how much longer i can take it,” you whispered, looking into the distance. “god, i’m sorry. i said too much,” you chuckled dryly, blushing with embarrassment.
minho didn’t say anything as he shifted, facing you and reaching his hands to place a flower crown on your head.
“a flower crown for my little flower,” he voiced with a faint smile, his bunny teeth peeking out of his mouth. you’re such a fragile thing, he was trying to tell you.
you teared up at the simple statement and minho wasted no time as he wrapped his arms around your body and brough you close to his chest, placing your head right where his heart beat. he rubbed your back soothingly as you sobbed into his t-shirt, damping it with your tears.
“you’re not alone in this, okay? you don’t have to act tough all the time, not when you have me,” he said firmly, kissing the top of your head. “i’ll catch you whenever you fall, i can be tough for both of us.” you breathed harshly, sniffling, and a loud sob left your body. “it’ll become easier. maybe not now, but soon. i promise.” you nodded, burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing his cologne and letting it cloud your senses.
you weren’t sure how things could get better, but you wanted to believe him. you wanted to hold onto hope that your life will soon become easier, more bearable. maybe even one day you’ll be happy again, though the route to that would be long and bumpy. but just as flowers needed water to live and grow, you needed someone to help you get back on your feet. and minho was willing to be the one to help you with that.
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taglist !
@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby
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dreaminginpastels · 5 months
Note
Wow you’re writing is great! If you’re not busy, would you do a Druig request where he’s in love with his fellow Eternal who’s generally neutral in family fights but one Druig manages to bother her enough that he feels guilty and asks for forgiveness because he can handle everyone else being mad at him but not her? Thank you in advance!
wounding me softly
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pairing: druig x fem!eternal!reader
summary: in which druig is increasingly distracted in battle and reader has had enough.
warnings: reader says some slightly not very nice things to druig, sliiiightest angst, brief intimacy
reader pronouns: she/her (by request)
word count: 2.1k
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*✧ eternals masterlist | main masterlist | ask ✧*
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Druig was getting on your last nerve. Literally. 
Arishem had gifted you the ability to heal others, but what you hadn’t told the rest of the Eternals was that this “ability” came with a catch - each time, you had to absorb the injury in order to heal it. Early on in your inception, you’d decided it was some punishment, for what you had no clue, but as you became an integral part of the Eternals and learned from each of them, you’d come to see it as your own private gift - a way to develop untapped empathy and care for others. It made you the beautiful person you were. 
Right now, however, Druig was testing your patience. The two of you had spent much time together during the early part of your stay in Babylon, and had grown close enough that Druig had started showboating in battles, leading the two of you to keep a tally of Deviants slain and owing each other various snacks after battle depending on who won. You were happy for the first time in a long, long time. You had even let yourself wonder if there might be more on the horizon between you. Over the last week, however, something had changed. Druig was quieter, withdrawn. You’d find him lost in his thoughts, and, most troublesome was the fact that he seemed to have lost his focus in battle. It was taking its toll. 
It had started with slight delays, Druig got where he needed to be but always just a tad too late. At first, you were concerned, checking in on him even though he’d just brush you off. But then you’d begun to get frustrated with the brooding eternal. The battles were becoming more frequent, and as the demand on your abilities grew, so too it seemed did Druig’s wandering mind. 
Drained and exhausted, you slumped against a wall as Ikaris blasted a Deviant ahead of you on your route to a wounded Kingo. 
“Kingo, again?” you sighed as your hands pressed on his abdomen. You felt the deep gash slowly and agonisingly transferring to your own side. 
He winced, “It’s not my fault, y/n, I swear-”
“They’re just targeting the weakest link.” Ikaris stated, matter-of-factly. 
Kingo scoffed. “Okay, rude.” 
Ikaris smirked before responding to Sersi’s summon. 
Kingo turned to you, “But seriously, y/n, if Druig showed up every once and a while, maybe these damn Deviants would go down easier.”
You groaned in frustration at the same moment that Kingo sighed in relief. The injury had finished absorbing, but you were severely lightheaded and could barely move. Druig was going to get more than an earful when you got back. 
“You’re an angel, y/n.” Kingo announced as he brushed your hair out of your face. “Seriously, I appreciate you so much.”
You grimaced, trying to hide the immense pain you were in. “T-thanks Kingo. Be careful out there, okay?”
He nodded before saluting you. “I won’t let you down, boss.”
“Rock, paper, scissors for the last twinkie?”
Druig brushed up against your shoulder playfully in the common space of the Domo, earning him a glare from you, and a chuckle out of Kingo. 
“Woah,” Druig began, gesturing to your glare with his twinkie in hand, “Careful with that thing, you could seriously hurt someone!”
You scoffed and walked away, feeling Druig’s confused gaze following your every step. As you walked into your room, you could hear his voice echoing through the walls of the Domo. “Was it something I said?”
“You, my friend, are royally screwed.” Kingo replied, stifling a chuckle.
A week had passed since Kingo’s major injury, and you hadn’t spoken a single word to Druig. You knew that the silent treatment was probably a bit immature for an eternal being, but frankly, you couldn’t care less. Being unfocused in battle was one thing, but vanishing when your family needs you the most? That you couldn’t condone.
You knew he’d have an excuse, and part of you was desperate to hear it. You missed him. Of course you did. Your love for him only made your resentment more torturous. 
Carefully positioning your still-recovering body against the wall in the meeting room, you watched as the other Eternals filed in with bated breath, wondering how much longer you could keep your secret. 
Druig’s heart rate spiked as Ajak concluded their meeting, the blood coursing through his veins as he prepared for what he was about to do. He hated confrontation as much as the next person, although the next person was Ikaris... 
“Alright, if no one has anything further they wish to present, you’re all dismissed.”
“Actually, Ajak,” Druig began, taking in the eye-rolls from his fellow Eternals as his voice filled the room. “I have something I’d like to discuss.”
Ajak’s patient, loving eyes wandered his face like a warning. “Yes, Druig?”
“Y/n’s been giving me the silent treatment lately, and I’d like to get to the bottom of it.”
“Oh here we go…” muttered Kingo as his eyes met Sprite’s, drawn to the impending drama like a car crash he couldn't tear his eyes from.
“It pains me to bring it up," Druig continued, glaring briefly at Kingo, "but seeing as the Deviants are getting more frequent, I figure we need to gel as a unit, and I don’t feel that we’re doing that.”
“HA,” A voice stirred from the shadowed corner of the meeting room. “You can talk.”
As you emerged from the shadows into the light of the meeting space, Druig took in your appearance - your heavy breathing, the dark bags under your bloodshot eyes, how pale you were. He instinctively moved towards you, resting a featherlight hand on your shoulder. His heart shattered as you winced and pulled away from his usually welcome touch. 
“Y/n, you look like crap! What the hell happened?” Then, softly in your ear, “Are you okay?”
Druig felt you tremble the second before you shoved him away from you. “Of course I do! While you’ve been off doing Arishem knows what, we’ve been protecting the humans, and each other, from Deviants. Who, as you so kindly reminded us, are getting more dangerous and more frequent. This is the time that we can’t afford slip-ups, and you’re off with the fairies!”
Druig’s head fell in shame. You hated conflict, least of all with him, and he had driven you to this. He knew it was entirely his fault - he had been distracted lately, and you deserved to know why. “Y/n, I-”
“You’re careless! And you don’t think about anyone but yourself. We can’t afford that, Druig. We’re a team. A family. Act like it.”
He shrunk into himself, every trace of his usual swagger and confidence shattered like the fragile heart he held within. You were right. He had done this to you, left you exhausted and pained - a shell of yourself. The one person he swore he’d never hurt. He mustered the only words he could, hoping they were at least a bandage over your weak frame. At least enough until he could hold you again. “I’m sorry.”
With a deep sigh, he watched as you limped out of the room - step by pained step. Druig looked at the faces of the other Eternals, taking in their disappointment with panicked eyes before rushing out of the room to follow you. 
“Y/n, wait!”
You groaned as he approached. Every noise you made splintered Druig’s heart a little more. He needed to make this right. Now. 
“What, you couldn’t even let me have a badass exit? You’re unbelievable.” You mustered a chuckle to lighten the mood, but Druig saw how it pained you. How you shuddered with each breath. 
“Oh my darlin’, you’re not okay.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Obviously, Druig. But great to know you weren’t even listening to my speech-”
“No, I can see it - something’s really wrong.” He lifted an arm above yours and studied your eyes carefully for permission before gently lifting your arm over his shoulder. “Let’s get you to lay down, we can talk when you’re comfortable.”
You winced as Druig lifted your arm, but hummed gratefully at his concern, lifting his hopes ever so slightly that things might just be okay. That he might win his best friend back, if he could muster the courage to be sincere enough.
Druig guided you to your room, and lay you gently on your bed, relishing in the comfortable sigh that emerged from your lips. You looked up at him, guarded but gentle. “Thank you, Druig.”
“You’re  welcome, my darlin’.” He softened as he took you in. Then, he eyed your bed. “Mind if I lay with you?”
You hesitated for a moment before nodding your permission. 
The silence that followed was full of unspoken emotions. Of feelings too large for the room, but deep enough to create a chasm between you. Until your voice echoed through the dark. 
“What’s been going on with you lately? You’re a formidable warrior, unrelenting in battle. What could possibly have you distracted enough that you’d ignore Kingo’s calls for aid?”
Druig sighed. “Look, y/n. It seems we’ve both been keeping secrets. I’ll tell you mine if you promise to tell me yours?”
You eyed his outstretched pinky. “I cannot believe you’re making me pinky swear like our inception was yesterday.”
He laughed gently, “You know you love it.”
Rolling your eyes, you took his pinky in yours. “Fine, pinky swear.”
While your pinkies were still entwined, Druig quickly added, “but you go first!” before letting go. 
“You are an actual child, Druig.”
“And you have a secret to tell me…” he replied in a sing-song voice. 
The mood was instantly quashed by your serious tone. “I…”
Carefully, Druig took your hand in his. “You know you can tell me anything, my darlin’, I’m not going anywhere.”
You took a deep breath as you looked up at him, meeting his concerned irises. 
“My abilities come with a cost. A condition. I can’t heal anyone without taking on their pain first.” Druig searched your eyes, horrified by your words and connecting the dots as you continued, “So, each time I’ve healed the others in battle recently…”
“...you’ve had to take on their injuries yourself and heal from them.” He finished for you. 
You nodded sombrely. “Each, and every one. Individually.”
“Oh, my beautiful, beautiful, y/n. Why didn’t you tell us?” Druig looked down sheepishly at your entwined hands before quietly adding, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
Your voice was smaller than Druig had ever heard it as you replied, laced with the worries and insecurities you had held inside for an eternity. “I…I didn’t want to burden anyone, to let anyone down, and…I didn’t want you to look down on me for being the only Eternal whose powers are conditional. I was ashamed for a really long time.”
“I could never look down on you, y/n.” Druig began, turning to face you as he gently cupped your cheek and stared into your eyes. “I…I love you.”
Your eyes widened, “You…you do?”
He chuckled sadly, “Of course I do, you beautiful, oblivious fool. I’ve loved you forever.” Druig looked down bashfully before muttering under his breath. “That’s uh, that’s actually why I’ve been so distracted lately.”
“Wait, WHAT?”
“I know, I know, it’s so dumb. I just, I’ve been wanting to ask you if you would ever consider seeing me as more than just the brooding Eternal that boasts in battle for snacks because he’s too shy to ask the girl he loves to be his. I never thought you would ever see me as more and I…I would daydream about us in battle, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About us. Then, last week I saw these flowers - daisies, I- I know they’re your favourite - when this Deviant shoved me to the ground deep in the forest and I thought they would be perfect for some grand romantic gesture and then I heard about Kingo and- I’m so sorry y/n, I ruined everything, I hurt you, and-”
Druig’s panicked rambling faded into nothingness the second he felt your lips graze his. Gentle, shy at first, and then more deeply, with a passion that he felt at his core. He moaned against your lips, “Y-y/n, I-”
“That is somehow equally the sweetest and dumbest thing I’ve ever heard come out of that beautiful-” kiss, “-beautiful-” kiss, “-mouth.”
With a lovestruck gaze, and an empty mind, Druig’s eyes moved from your lips to your eyes as he took in the sight before him. “Y-you forgive me?”
You smiled then, cupping his face gently before placing another tentative kiss on his waiting lips. “I’ll do you one better. I love you, you sweet, idiotic Eternal. I’d be honoured to be yours.”
The two of you lay there in contented silence, falling asleep entwined in each other's embrace, knowing that everything would be okay. Knowing that you had each other.  ...
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a/n: hi lovely, i’m so very sorry for how long it’s taken me to get around to this request. it was my last druig request for AGES and I was just so nervous that if I wrote my last druig request I wouldn't get any more, so I held onto this baby like my life depended on it. that being said, I tweaked the request a little bit and I ADORED writing this. I hope that it’s everything that you wanted it to be, and please please feel free to request for baby boy again because I love writing for him SO MUCH 🤍 
i’m so excited to get back into writing again, i finally finished my honours degree and I have so much creativity it’s not even funny - hoping to really smash out a bunch of your requests and create a writing schedule so i can keep it up because i miss and love writing for you all! thank you so much for your patience and support, you mean the world to me and i’m thankful for you every day 
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talkbycolor · 6 months
Text
I deserve this
A/N; at this point its obvious that i inspire in rebzyyx songs
Pairing; "Your Boyfriend" x AFAB!Reader (cus people are scared of the word trans)
CW; reader becomes willing at the end i swear / unhealthy, obsessive and possesive love / sensitive topics such as mental health, depression, anxiety, fear of abandonment, dissociation, suicidal thoughts / a crazy concept: he talks about his emotions!! / non-con, violence, like, i cry while i masturbate
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It's quite blurry trying to remember how it all started, it seemed harmless to accept a date from a stranger, he gave you a beautiful rose and was quite kind to you.
Feeling that people could like you, that someone could be romantically interested in you, because of who you are, your personality, that they knew your… desires?
Because you had dreams, of course.
Your dream was to live, to live a quiet life, a stable, pleasant job, with good pay, a normal and peaceful life, where the deep emptiness in your heart was non-existent, years had passed and the monotonous feeling did not disappear, you had already accepted the pain, after all, if you felt that constantly it was probably because you did something wrong at some point, right?
But that was a personal dream that would never be shared.
And it's not like that matters now, not when you're in… A room, that's funny, your last memory is of Peter slamming you against the table to tie your limbs since their last date didn't end as expected and It was time to go home.
Return to an empty home, for what? Peter was more than willing to take care of you, why was he so scary? Accepting it would have made things easier, but you ruined everything by trying to run away, you even fought tooth and nail, that was too pathetic now that you remember it, maybe you DO deserve all the shit that is happening.
You could have saved yourself so much terror and attacks.
"PETER ENOUGH! PLEASE! LET ME GO! NO! NO! FUCK, PLEASE!" You tore out your throat with terrified screams and tried to claw at his skin until your fingers were bloody, biting the hands that tried to stop your screams, hitting his face with your elbows and kicking him away, crawling like a dying animal away from him. "PETER!" You sobbed sharply before losing consciousness.
But nothing worked, resisting only made all that shit worse and now you were tied up, in Your boyfriend's old clothes.
You barely remember how you got to that place, or if time passed, anyway that doesn't matter anymore, from one day to the next you find a very small piece of clothing that turned out to be yours, time passed, your body grew but your mind didn't, they keep lying but you know that your life will depend on how well you do it.
And you're not doing it right, you tried to adopt toxic happiness but you couldn't even maintain it for a while before exploding, sadness was already an everyday thing and you just weren't feeling it anymore.
"Dear?"
Just peace please, how hard could that be? It was annoying, you even felt angry for feeling so empty, because people were so rude and the constant rejection killed you socially.
It was hard to breathe, wasn't it?
"Love? Do you hear me?"
It feels like the end, your soul is bleeding, you wish your stupid job made you feel a little more alive and motivated to continue.
And now you have done so many things to escape from that monster that pulls you back to the room to devour you under the bed.
"Darling!" Your boyfriend's voice echoed through the room, making you look at him once and for all, your eyes tired despite having been unconscious most of the time.
"…" You wanted to respond, really, but what were you supposed to say?
"You must be exhausted, you didn't even touch dinner" It was a tricky phrase, he had tried to feed you since you were tied up.
"Peter-…"
"I already told you that I prefer to be called other way, honey" He responded with a smile and a definitely not irritated tone.
"I want to sleep" He left your lips, he was being so caring, taking care of your health.
He kidnapped you.
And you couldn't even thank him for it.
He knocked you out.
You really were an ungrateful shit, weren't you?
He locked you up.
You wanted to return the signs of affection.
Soon the ropes left your body, Peter helped you stand up and you both walked to the bedroom, he was still carrying a small plate with a light dinner, he refused to let you go to bed without having eaten dinner.
Once in bed, he made sure that you had a proper dinner, and he helped you change your clothes so that you would be comfortable in bed, he also did the same with his attire and now you were both lying down. It always made your stomach churn when he looked at your half-naked body.
"Dear" He murmured next to you while you tried to sleep as soon as possible, so many things had happened those last few days that the only way out was to sleep, you had probably already been fired from your job for not showing up. "Honey, love, darling," he said sweetly as his hand went up to your cheek, he simply looked at you with a huge and probably painful smile on his face, almost tattooed, you made him so happy with your mere presence.
"Can I kiss you?" He asked, your mind still cloudy enough to refuse anything, so you just went up to kiss him, the room was very dark and there weren't even crickets echoing at night, the amount of silence was overwhelming… of course, that didn't count the lip-smacking they shared.
So it continued.
For a long time.
"Pet-…uhm, I mean, honey, I'm tired and I want to sleep" You interrupted the honey session.
"Please, you don't have to do anything, just let me love you, darling" his voice was soft, soothing to that darkness but not to the painful weight in your heart and the knot in your stomach, his touches felt strange.
You know that's wrong, you don't like it.
You didn't stop him, just like he said, you let him love you as you closed your eyes and a buzzing sound echoed in your head, like television static, your bottom clothes had disappeared, but that didn't matter.
You couldn't hear anything, you didn't see anything, your body reacted but your mind was very far from that place, you wandered through your memories, fantasies of a life you were never going to have.
It was really digging into your cunt, huh? Even when your mind wanted to flee somewhere else, it was undeniable how he held your thighs and you gasped heavily with each thrust.
His member was still dripping his seed, did he use protection? You don't know, you don't care.
It doesn't matter.
B e cau se s oon y o u w il l b e d ea d.
"Honey? Didn't you enjoy it?" Peter asked with a worried frown.
What the hell is wrong with you? Do you no longer have respect for yourself? You know it's going to hurt you.
Don't you mind dying? You lost hope and you don't even try to help yourself anymore, damned and pathetic attempt at being human, really unnecessary.
"Honey…" Peter caressed your cheeks and brought his forehead to yours, sighing softly and carrying your body to the bathroom in the room.
You didn't say anything either, you just felt how it was cleaning your body, the water was warm, the bathtub full of bubbles, and it smelled pretty good, like coconut soap. Peter hummed quietly as he treated your body with the utmost affection, you were sure he was whispering things in your ear but you were barely aware of your surroundings.
When your eyes finally focused on something you could see the ceiling of the room thanks to the moonlight, Peter was behind you, hugging your body, caressing your hair, and sniffing the soapy fragrance.
"You are so sweet, so unique, so kind, so special to me, a truly exceptional person, I will do everything to make you feel comfortable, darling, I love you so much, my adorable-…"
"Peter"
"… Yes love?" This time he didn't argue about that name, you were finally talking and that was good.
"I'm sorry I feel so alone, I know you're here but…" You wish you could give him an answer but that was something even you hadn't figured out yet.
"It's okay, honey, I'll be with you to hold you, forever."
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The Quiet Ones 4
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader
Note: first draft of my final assignment is done, just need to do a few other things for class and I'm pretty much done.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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As night falls, you feel woozy. You don’t know how much longer you can hold out. The boxed macaroni and cheese only made your stomach hurt and you’re pretty much out of water. Tomorrow you might just have to venture outside and hope he’s not around. Somehow, you don’t think he’s ever gone. He seems to always be watching. 
You can’t focus on your book. The edges of your vision are hazy and your head is pounding. You close it and look for something to watch. You just as quickly forget what you’re doing and shut off the television. You’re too weak to make it to the bed. You're tired, you just want to sleep. 
You look at the window before you lay down, then glance down. The light isn’t there yet. Its absence unsettles you. You wouldn’t exactly prefer it was but it not being there makes you wonder if something else is coming. 
You’re too exhausted to worry about it. You close your eyes as you lay flat on the couch. You exhale and let your body relax. The tension is as tiring as anything else. You’re always wound up tight, always waiting, always watching. You just don’t have anything left in you. 
That familiar drifting sensation takes over you. Your eyelids itch and your muscles grow heavy. You slip into your unconscious little by little until your shrouded in a deep unbreakable darkness. You’re not scared or frustrated or happy or sad. You’re just tired. 
The shatter of glasses splices through your momentary escape. You groan as you eyes snap open and you lay in the dimness of your apartment. What happened? The light was on when you passed out. What was that noise? 
You push yourself up to your elbows and look at the window. There’s not green light but something worse. The window is broken. The jagged glass shines with moonlight as shards litter the floor. You sit up all the way and scramble around, unable to make sense through the darkness and your own sluggish perception. 
You reach for the lamp and try to turn it on. On, off, on, off. You shake your head, trying to free yourself from the clouds, and stagger to your feet. You go to the wall and flip the switch for the overhead light. Nothing. The power must be out. You can’t even hear the hum of the fridge. 
A tickle crawls into your throat and you cough. You smell smoke. You go to your desk and feel around for your phone. You wait for it to turn on as the dryness in your nose and throat build. You finally get the flashlight glowing on your cell and shine it around the room. 
The haze isn’t in your mind. The apartment is filling with smoke. You pull your shirt up over your nose and cough again. Your eyes burn as you try to see through the fog. There’s a dark shape on the carpet spewing fumes. What the heck? 
Adrenaline kicks in and instinct has you feet moving before you can think. You can’t breath. The smoke gets thicker as your eyes stream and you rack with coughs. You hit the door with your body, clawing at the lock, fingers aching as you twist back the latch. You waver as you step back, pulling the door inward and stumble into the hall. 
Your feet hit the floor clumsily, flat and thumping, thunderous in the hue of night. You hack again, hand on your chest, and tumble to your knees. You grip your head as the strength drains from your body, seeping away little by little. Are you dying? Is this it? 
You fall onto your side and suck in deep breaths. Your head lolls and your arm falls slack beside you. Your eyes roll up and a black silhouette appears above you. A tongue clicks and a whistle blows out. 
“I didn’t want it to be like this, baby cakes,” the timbre skews in your ears as your lashes close, “don’t worry...” the world shifts beneath you, “daddy’s got you.” 
👄
You don’t dream. You don’t think. You don’t feel. There is only endless black. 
A sliver of light pierces the void. It's too bright. Painfully so. Your eyes slit and you peek out from beneath heavy eyelids. You don’t recognise those walls, the bed is too soft to be yours, and this place doesn’t smell familiar. You take a deep breath and force your eyes open. 
Soft light glows through large panes to your left. The bed on which you lay is swathed in the dull tones of the morning rising just outside. You’re laid beneath blankets, several layers that make you sweat, and a cushy pillow cradles your head, many more litter the bed along the top. There’s too much of everything. 
The ceiling and walls are black, the bed frame too, the silky and dark, with a fluffy zebra print throw across the foot. You can’t see much more as you lay on your back. You might not know where you are but you can certainly figure who brought you there. 
On cue with your consciousness, the opposite the bed opens and you raise your head to watch a shadow enter. It reminds you of another figure, that one rippled with disorientation and impending darkness. He reaches to flip the switch beside the door and the two sconces mounted above the bet light up. 
It’s him. It wouldn’t be anyone else. That stranger from the cafe. Your personal tormentor. The man who calls himself Lloyd and a litany of ridiculous names. 
He stares back at you. You’re struck dumb with the dregs of you unconcscious and disbelief, meanwhile he looks almost giddy. A smile curves his lips under the line of hair and he rubs his palms together as he shifts his weight between his feet. He raises his hands appeasingly. 
“Jellybean, before you scream, please hear me out,” he pleads. 
You couldn’t scream if you tried. You’re too weak. This can’t be happening. Why would you be here? In a nice bed, in a nice room. You should be in some twisted torture chamber or out in the middle of the woods. If he’s going to kill you, he needs to at least be straightforward about. 
He turns and strides over to another door; a closet. He slides it open and tuts as he browses the contents. You can’t see past him. You barely even try as you let your head fall back against the pillow. 
“So, thoughts?” He turns to face you again as he holds up two hangers, “the navy is cute. I like the polka dots and the see throughness here and here, but the pink would bring out your complexion.” 
Your eyes flit down and you gape at the two dresses, one in each hand. You shake your head and blink. You bring a hand up and touch your forehead, a grumble slipping free. 
“You’re right, jellybean, it’s late,” he turns to put the dresses back in the closet, “we can deal with that in the morning. It’s not too far away... just a few hours.” 
He nears the bed and you shrink down, curling your shoulders in as you fold your arms over the blankets. He lowers himself next to you, an elbow in the pillows as he peers down at you. He reaches to touch your cheek and you try to move away. He barely seems to notice as he strokes your face. 
“I’ve just been so excited I can’t sleep,” he drags his knuckle around lightly, “but I didn’t want to wake you up. You need to rest. After everything you’ve been through.” He brings his legs up onto the bed and wiggles down to his side, “I know you don’t take care of yourself like you should, baby face, but that’s okay, because you have me now.” 
“Why... are you doing this?” You wisp out. 
He laughs, “you’re so funny...” he pets your chin, “and cute and...” he trails his hand down and squeezes your shoulder, “small. You’re adorable.” 
“Please,” you groan. 
“Why am I doing what?” He asks coyly, “why am I taking care of you? Why am I ready to give you everything? Why am I dying just to hear your voice and see your face and...” he stops and leans in, giving a deep sniff, “smell your hair?” 
You want to shrivel up. Your lip quivers as the daze recedes and the fear sets in. He’s delusional and you have no way out. You don’t even know where you are. It hardly matters, you doubt you could get very far. 
“You’re right. We should sleep. We have tomorrow to get settled in,” he reaches back to flip the light switch next to the bed, dimming the sconces back to black.  
He lifts himself to free the blankets from beneath him and sidles under them. He nestles close as you go rigid. He slips his arm under you as he nuzzles your cheek. 
“And every day after that. We have a whole lifetime ahead of us, jellybean. Me and you. Together forever...” he stretches his other arm over your stomach, “I never liked fairy tales before, babes. Not til you.” 
You close your eyes. You’re tired but there’s no way you’re falling back asleep. This is a waking nightmare. 
👄
The man, Lloyd, starts to snore. You feel his muscles relax and feel his breath steady against you. As much as you want to push him away and run, you can’t. You don’t know what it is. It’s akin to sleep paralysis. You’re awake but you can’t fight what’s happening. Something in your mind tells you it’s futile. 
The sun rise on the other side of the large windows. In any other circumstance, you would admire a place like this. The sleek furniture, the luxurious blankets, the expansive view. It’s a far cry from your cramped apartment and its small windows. 
You can only wallow in helpless self-pity. How did this happen? How did you let it happen? If you hadn’t been so indulgent, you would’ve never been seen. You should’ve known better than to go down to that cafe and splurge on something so menial. You could have made your own tea. You could’ve stayed inside, stayed safe. 
His closeness has you sweating. It’s uncomfortable and itchy. You want to rip your skin off. 
He moves and you hold your breath. He’s waking up. That can’t be good. At least asleep, he can’t do much. You curl your fingers into your palm and wait. 
“Mmm,” he leans in and brushes the tip of his nose against your cheek before planting a kiss, his mustache tickles, “this is heaven. I can’t...” he pushes himself up, planting his hand on the mattress, “I can’t believe this is real. You’re really here.” 
You look at him, almost glaring as you let your distress burn through. He doesn’t even notice as he rubs your arm and his blue eyes dance over you. Laying next to him as he looms over you, his size is more obvious. He’s much bigger than you. 
“Coffee?” He asks, “I got this new dark roast. All the way from Colombia. I haven’t even tried it. I’ve been waiting on you. Bet it’s much better than that InstaCafe.” 
You blink at him. All your fears are coming true. It’s not that he’s snatched you, it that he’s been watching you. You might never know how long but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change this moment. 
“And breakfast, if you’re hungry. I know you usually skip that but--” 
“Please stop,” you croak, “please...” 
“What? Honey, I’m just trying to show you all I can do for you. You don’t have to do all the work anymore. Staring at a screen is bad for your eyes. And your posture.” 
“I... I didn’t mind...” 
“Ah, that’s just you. You’re a hard worker. Resilient. You do what needs to be done. You don’t complain and you don’t make demands. Baby, you don’t have to. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you without you even asking.” 
“I liked... being alone. I want to be alone,” your breath hitches between words as panic pulses in your chest. 
“Do you want to be alone or do you not know what it’s like to have someone? Jellybean, I’m scared too. You’re the first girl I’ve had in my bed that made it past dawn. Hell, the first girl I didn’t... you know,” he gives a crooked grin. 
Your lips part as you stare at him, dumbfounded. Sure, he didn’t do more than forcibly cuddle you but it doesn’t change what he did do. You shake your head and sputter as you search for words. 
“You followed me.” 
“I kept you safe,” he insists. 
“You turned my water off. I...” 
“That’s what the IV is for,” he reaches over to touch your other arm. You don’t know how you didn’t notice the tubing before. “I brought you tea. All you had to do was open up--” 
“You threw something through my window... there was smoke...” your lashes flutter as the memories creep back in. 
“I did what had to be done,” his grin falls away and his expression turns stony, “what you made me do.” 
You stare at him, speechless. 
“I haven’t given you any reason not to trust you. I mean, all you had to do was have a coffee with me. Or even open your door. Honey, I should be mad at you. You hung me out to dry but I can forgive you,” his face softens again, “how can I not?” His eyes go doey, “you’re so beautiful.” 
You lay there, unmoving. You feel as if any suddenness might trigger him. He traces along your cheek and jaw and down your neck, “did you decide?” 
You narrow your eyes and frown. 
“A dress? Blue or pink?” 
You don’t answer him. You just look at him as he continues to touch you. Your skin speckles with goosebumps as a chill rolls through you. 
“You know what, neither. I get it. You want something more classy. Yeah, given the occasion, I think you’re right, baby face,” he leans over you and looks you in the eye, “we’ll have a look in the closet after breakfast.” 
Before you can react, his lips are on yours. You let out a surprised squeak as he holds your chin in place. His mustache tickles you again and his tongue flits across your lips, wetting them just slightly before retracting. He pulls away and sighs. 
“Wow.” 
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Thank you so much for writing for Invincible!!!!!! There's hardly anything especially with a male reader
So like yandere Mark, am i right? If he were to be yandere i could totally imagine him using his powers to intimidate his lover and get rid of anyone who he doesn't like and he would act like it's your fault if you're sad when he kills someone, he got it from his dad
Mark Grayson Yandere Alphabet
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I found this yandere alphabet, so I decided to fill it out for Mark :3c This is post season 2 mark, or something around that, which is why Mark is different to what Nolan would be like. Let me know if you guys wanna see more alphabets like this.
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
I think after everything that’s happened, Mark would be a very clingy guy. He would hug, hold, and kiss his darling any chance he gets. It can get pretty intense, like, mark holding you so hard bones would break if you try to wiggle free or if he’s feeling extra emotional, be it positive of negative. In the beginning hed be too shy to kiss you, but when he crosses that bridge, he never stops.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
After everything with his dad and with Angstrom, it would be much easier for Mark to get violent and bloody, especially if he thinks someone is trying to harm you, in his opinion. And to him, anybody trying to rescue you from him is a threat.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
I don’t see Mark as someone who would mock his darling. Instead, he would try to pamper you and make you love him back, to make you accept that this is your new life now and its for the best. He would be overly affectionate, to the point where its extremely overbearing. His horrible self-worth also makes you seek a lot of validation. So, all in all, he’s very draining to be around.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
Mark would hug you, cuddle you and kiss you against your will. Hed go as far as to force you to take care of yourself if you don’t, either by him doing it for you, or watching you like a hawk as you do it. hed never force himself on his darling though, since he still sees himself as a hero.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
He would expose his heart to you from the very beginning, since he feels so guilty about kidnapping you. Mark would just word-vomit everything he feels and how this is what he needs to do, because he loves you so much and can’t lose you.
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
Mark would be so sad, but he understands why his darling fights back in the beginning, at least some part of him does. But he would grow frustrated if they kept fighting back for a longer period of time, since he thinks hes doing the right thing. Why cant his darling just SEE that?
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
Its in no way a game for Mark, this is almost life and death for him. He hates seeing you trying to escape too, since he knows its just proof that you don’t love him back or understand his version of the truth.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Probably the fact that there is a high possibility that Mark has killed his darling’s family and loved ones, since if he killed them, there’s no reason for you to leave right? You have no one else, just him, and that’s all you need. Hes also broken many bones, sometimes without meaning too, and sometimes on purpose.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
He fantasizes about an almost movie like future, with a happy spouse who loves him back just as much as he loves them, where you’ll greet him at the door and embrace him so happy he’s home. It wouldn’t be too out of this world for Mark to imagine his darling as still living in solitude in what he deemed the safest place.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
Mark gets so jealous, since his mental state is already very broken. The very thought of his darling loving someone else or wanting to leave him for someone else? Its almost enough to get him spiraling, and it either leads to him having a horrible breakdown, or growing extra violent when he fights crime.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
Disgustingly doting and clingy. Hes always right behind you or touching you in some way. He absolutely craves your attention and validation, and will have a panic attack if you ignore him. But he also uses a lot of guilt tripping when he isn’t getting his way, or his darling it acting out.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
I imagine your relationship was actually pretty normal in the beginning, with you replacing Amber. As normal as a relationship dating a superhero is at least. So mark was kind of clumsy but so sweet and genuine. But then everything with angstrom happened, and he just kinda breaks.
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
Yes. Mark acts cooler and a lot more down to earth around people, suppressing the worse parts of himself. He wants to come across as a hero that everyone can look up too, which also means very few people know of your existence after you disappear.
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
Mark doesn’t like to hurt his darling physically, but he isn’t above breaking bones. He will sob the entire time though, crying and yelling at you that this is your fault and hes only doing it because you gave him no other choice. But he prefers emotional punishment instead, like isolating you for long periods of time.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
He would try to keep as many rights for his darling as possible, not wanting to damage their way of life too much. But you would have no connection to the outside world, and you defiantly wouldn’t be able to leave wherever he keeps you. If you act up too much though, then he would have to start taking privileges away, and chaining you to the bed can also be one of those privileges.
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
He tries to be patient. Mark knows it’s a big change for you, so of course you’re gonna act out and you’re gonna scream at him and try to fight back. But it also wears on him, making his frayed edges get worse, until he just can’t take it anymore and breaks down, which only adds onto all the guilt he’s been piling on you.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
No way. If his darling dies, then Mark would spiral completely out of control. He would either isolate himself completely, or snap to the point where nolans acts look like a field trip. This depends on if his darling’s death was caused by someone else though. If you leave or escape, you bet your ass Mark is coming for you again. And the GDA would most likely help him, since they know the easiest way to control Mark is to let him keep you.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
Mark would feel incredibly guilty and selfish for kidnapping you, but since he thinks it’s the right thing to do, then he would learn to cope with it. There is a chance you can get him to leave you go though, if you catch him at the right time when he’s most vulnerable, and if he thinks you truly love him in return. But this would be rare, and him coming back for you would be very likely.
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
All the loss and chaos he’s experienced since gaining his powers. The stuff Mark has experienced is enough to break the strongest of men, and with his mental state already being so fractured, the thought of losing you would be the last push he needed.
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
Mark would feel so horrible about seeing his darling cry or scream, since he already feels guilty about kidnapping you. This is also why it would take him months or even longer to tell you he killed your entire family and all your loved ones, since he doesn’t want to see you cry more.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
Theres so many flavours of yandere, that Marks acts would fit some type of yandere, so probably not. Maybe the fact that there is a small chance he would willingly let his darling go? Or the fact that he resorts to using his own guilt and tears to manipulate you.
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
Honestly just play along with his delusions, that yes Mark, this was the right idea and the world id dangerous. You love him too, and of course you’ll hold him and tell him he’s doing the right thing and being such a good hero. It wouldn’t be too hard to twist him around your finger, since he’s so starved for you and your attention. Escape would be pretty fucking hard though, since even the GDA wouldn’t help you.
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
Most of Mark hurting you would be accidental, if hes under a lot of stress or very wound up. But it isn’t above him to hurt you on purpose if he thinks there’s no other choice, like you trying to escape too much, or trying to attack him.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
Mark would worship the very ground you walked on and would see you as the center of his universe. This is also why the GDA wouldn’t do anything, since Mark sees you as his everything, and you are human and live on earth, then he wouldn’t turn against humanity. Mark would also bend over backwards to gain his darlings affection, whatever it takes, as long as it isn’t letting you free or anything like that.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
If you replaced Amber, then you two would have been dating for a while before he snaps, so he would have pined for around that time.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
I don’t think he would do it on purpose, but it would come as a byproduct of his darling being isolated for so long that they just kinda break on their own. Or might be more his darling being slowly shaped into the same kind of stuff that Mark is made out of than outright breaking, since Mark still loves you for who you are. This is where he’s different from his dad.
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sumeruin · 1 year
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♫♪: punishments!!
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♫♪: pairing: dottore x bunny hybrid! reader
♫♪: warnings: written by a minor, slight yandere, aphrodisiac usage, dacryphilia, grinding, reader gets tied up, begging, mentions of being cut open (nothing really graphic though dw), if i missed anything let me know!!!
♫♪: a/n: happy easter!! :)
♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!!
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“zandik? do you think we could go for a walk sometime? it’s been a while since we’ve been able to do anything together.” dottore’s head immediately snapped in you direction, his eyes narrowed and full of suspicion.
“where did you hear that name?��� you shoot him an innocent smile. “what do you mean? that’s your name, isn’t it, zandik? i think it’s a lovely name if i’m being honest.”
he scoffs, slowly approaching you like how a predator would approach its cornered prey. you feel a pit of anxiety and fear gnawing at your gut when you see the pure, unadulterated rage in his eyes, starting to think that maybe you had finally taken it too far.
dottore grips your face tightly in his hand once he reaches you, his other moving to rest wrapped around your neck. “you know very well what i mean. you know not to talk about my past.” he forces your head up to stare directly into his eyes, and you swear you see the corners of lips quirk up when he sees the glassy shimmer of fear in yours, obviously enjoying how easy it is for him to rile you up.
“i think a punishment is in order, you need to learn how to control that mouth of yours and stop being such a brat.” you swallow nervously at his words. his punishments are always agonizing. your ears involuntarily twitch at the memory of your last one, still able to remember the way his scalpels felt when he carved open your skin.
“no! i’m sorry, dottore. i didn’t mean it!” he smirks, clearly enjoying your begging. “that’s better, but still not enough. you broke one of my rules, and you think a simple apology will be enough? you’re dumber than i thought.”
you desperately grab his sleeve, eyes starting to fill with tears that threatened to spill with every passing second. “please! i’ll do anything, i promise, just please, not another punishment. i’ll be good, i won’t ever break any of the rules again, i swear!”
dottore smiles at you, removing his hands from your face and neck to rest one of the back of your head and bury it in his chest, his thumb lightly stroking the base of one of your fluffy ears. the other moves down to rest on your waist, softly caressing your puffy tail and bringing you that much closer to him. he presses a soft kiss against the top of your head before speaking.
“as much as i enjoy your sweet voice begging me to take pity on you, i’m afraid i can’t let you go without a punishment this time.” his hold on you gets tighter when he feels you jolt in fear, tears finally spilling and soaking the fabric of his shirt. “but, if you calm down and stop trying to escape the inevitable, i might go easier on you. i have a couple new drugs i’ve been meaning to test, and none of the side effects are permanent. if you’re good, you can test those for me and i won’t have to cut you open again. as much i enjoy punishing you that way, you have such adverse reactions to it, and i wouldn’t want to make my little rabbit distressed just because you said my name. that wouldn’t be fair, would it?”
with the combination of dottore’s cologne invading your senses, the slight lack of air from being pressed against him for so long, and the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, you can’t find it in yourself to say no. he smiles when he feels you feebly nod your head against his chest, stroking your hair one last time before forcing you to your knees and tying your hands and legs up.
“now, just stay here and be good while i go get the medicine ready. it shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.” he kneels down and smooths away your tears while he speaks, leaving one last kiss to the top of your forehead before getting up and walking away, leaving you with nothing but your thoughts and a slowly increasing sense of relief that you wouldn’t be hurt again.
true to his words, dottore comes back five minutes later holding multiple bottles filled to the brims with color liquids. you watch curiously as he spreads them out in front of you. “since you’ve been so cooperative with your punishment this time, i’ve decided to let you choose which one you try. pick one out and i’ll save the others for later.” you slowly look down at your options, there’s so many it’s hard to choose. after a couple minutes of deliberation with dottore staring at you with a mix of love and fascination, you decide to go with the shimmery pink one in the heart shaped bottle.
“dottore?” he tilts his head to the side and hums. “what, little rabbit? have you decided?”
“mhm. i want the cute pink one!”
dottore laughs, patting your cheek condescendingly before sitting down on the floor in front of you. he picks up your chosen bottle and pulls off the cork before pressing it to your lips. “drink up, in order to get accurate results you have to take all of it.”
you obediently swallow everything in the bottle, and almost instantly you feel your entire body heat up, a sharp pang of arousal striking through your whole body. helpless whimpers start to slip from your lips as you look up and dottore with glossy, teary eyes. “ah! ‘tore, please help! hurts so bad, n-need you to touch me, hurts!” the end of your sentence trails off into a needy whine, and you lean your body against him.
you feel his chest vibrate with a small laugh while you hopelessly squirm and cry against him, his arms coming up to wrap around your body. “oh, dear, it seems my little experiment has put you into an early heat, huh? you poor thing.” he starts cooing at you in that sickeningly sweet voice he uses when he wants you to feel more like a pet than a person. “it was a very weak aphrodisiac, i didn’t think you’d react this strongly to it. i should’ve taken this into account though, it’s my fault, really.”
“don’ care, just need you to touch me! please ‘tore, it hurts!” you whine out, trying to grind against him for something, anything, to relieve the deep ache that’s settled between your legs. he shushes you, his hands starting to move up towards your soft, fluffy ears. he starts to gently rub at them, getting rougher when you let out a loud moan at the feeling.
dottore keeps playing with your ears like that while you grind yourself against his knee, the overwhelming sensations soon becoming too much for your body to handle as you violently cum all over his leg, the pain finally going away as you lean against him and let out a content sigh.
before you can say anything, you feel his large bulge underneath you, and as you feel your body heat up for the second time, you know that you’ll have a long night ahead of you.
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loserlvrss · 22 days
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꒰ 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 ꒱ 박성호
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summary : your boyfriend was beginning to get distant, and you didn't know why
genre : angst, fluff at the end, sungho x afab!reader tws : language, angst, mentions of drinking and neglect author notes : for my requestor, this is our man don't play word count : 2.3k
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at first it wasn’t anything big. really no big deal at all. and if you weren’t an overthinker by nature, you wouldn’t have believed anything was wrong.
it started out with simple no’s; denies of affection here and there, progressing into i’m tired’s, and ending with a text.
texts which stated that he would no longer be coming over after practice — that he’s sorry he missed your date because of work, he’s too tired to talk to you after doing promotions all day, he didn’t want to be a bother because he couldn’t give you what you wanted.
but you respected him. you respected him so much you didn’t think the flags were tinted at all. however, you also respected yourself too — knowing there’s only so many lies you’re able to believe — so, that’s where your dilemma lied: how much more could you take? how far were you willing to let it go?
you never would have imagined weighing the pro’s to the con’s, trying to decide if it was good enough to not debate a full-on breakup. you were sick to your stomach, a headache booming against your skull.
it was killing you slowly; as if you were going down in quicksand — which was all but quick.
you wanted a clear answer from him, but to get that you needed clear questions. you needed clear conversation, which would be easier if he didn’t reply to your text hours after you’d send them.
apologies were sounding more like i love you than the actual statement. but, you did love him. you loved him so much you could burst at the seams. you loved him so much you felt him flowing in your veins. he infiltrated your dreams, your heart, your every last thought; and maybe that’s why you hurt so damn much right now.
your eyes were puffy and red, you barely recognized the person you had let yourself become for him. someone complacent. someone so love-drunk you found yourself drinking just to feel something — anything at all.
another shot, and another shot to the heart.
you found yourself, in this state of blurriness, reminiscing the only memories that made you happy anymore: the old park sungho, the boyfriend you had fallen in love with some time ago. you felt a slurred-smile plaster your lips, leaning back against the couch cushion with the shot glass still in your hand. your head fell against the cushion, eyes drifting closed.
you debated the other night if staying in love with him would be harder than letting it wither out like a tulip; getting planted in the ground during fall, dormant all winter, just to bloom for a couple of weeks, then die.
you thought maybe heartbreak would be better than letting this relationship — that felt more like a situationship — cremate itself.
you've been in convenience relationships before; you've been with a man just because you didn't want to be alone, even if he only ever wanted to see you at night. its said loneliness is the most deadly drug. and now, your so-called boyfriend isn't making you feel any different than someone of superficial feelings; to look good on the outside, when you felt rotten on the inside.
you felt unwanted, and that's taken you weeks to admit. you thought you could lie to yourself better than that. you thought you could convince yourself that this is what love feels like, that this a give before the take.
it was a sacrifice you made, but it was never something you had mentally prepared for, simply because you never thought he'd become someone not quite like a stranger but not like an unconditional-lover either.
you honestly didn't know what to call it anymore.
you hated being so unsure, fighting to win love from someone who could say the word so easily. he had your heart in his hands, and you didn't know if him dropping it or putting it back in your chest would hurt more. you hated yourself for being the only reason you're still able to call him your boyfriend, because has he ever really felt like yours in the past couple weeks?
you've sat on his backburner for some time, just waiting for him to come around and stir the pot. you felt lucky, yet appalled to be in the situation you were in, because at least you got to love him — even if it was only once in a blue moon — shouldn't you feel grateful for that? the shooting stars you wished upon only worked so much in your favor before you thought that maybe they couldn't hear you anymore.
if this was meant to die, why was it taking so long? after all, you were only getting older.
maybe you just loved him too much to stay in love, knowing that maybe it was time to throw up the white flags. he knew everything about you, but even strangers can find out fine-details about someone's life.
sometimes you just wished he'd put you first, only if just once. that would be enough, wouldn’t it?
however, you couldn't blame him. he was being the man he thought he needed to be, the one he thought he wanted to be. maybe if you hadn't opened up, loved him in a way you knew he couldn't love you back, you wouldn't have to argue with yourself. you wouldn't have stayed up all night waiting for the familiar chime on your keypad, you wouldn't be in the stage of denial, pretending that it was just a fluke and would pass. you wouldn't pretend that you could breathe when he was around.
you gave him the key to your heart, but you couldn't make him stay. you couldn't make him want you like you wanted to be wanted.
he was the man of your dreams, everything you've ever wanted... what an oh-so-lonely view.
maybe the picture you painted inside your head was enough. maybe the person who held you in your dreams was enough. maybe if you tried harder he would think you were enough. maybe if you smiled harder it would hold to your face like a sticker. maybe if you changed yourself to be who he wanted down to a T he wouldn't find excuses to tell you he didn't want to see you. maybe this whole thing was just embarrassing. maybe not being loved by him was just so fucking pathetic. maybe he didn't want to be with you because neither one of you had anything good to say to each other anymore.
you can't even remember the last time he gave you a compliment, but he isn't the compliment type, right?
how, in reality, were you supposed to take all of this? you looked in the mirror and told yourself it was dramatic to be upset about something so trivial as a couple words and missed calls, but he swore that he'd never hurt you.
you hadn't realized the tears that began slipping through your closed lids until you felt the soft touch of someone you couldn't decide which side of the fence to fall to because of.
your eyes shot open like it was a nightmare, and for a second he was just a stranger to you; wondering how he got into your apartment.
you could recognize the voice, but you couldn't decide if the sentiment was there, if he was even really standing in your living room looking as jaded as a ghost.
he stared at the bottle, and then your relaxed posture and tears stained cheeks. he wasn't dumb, and he obviously put two-and-two together.
maybe neither one of you could ask the question that kept circling your brain like the ceiling fan you relied on for sleep: should we end this?
"should we?" he asked, the statement sobering you to the core, "...if that's what you want."
you had to laugh before you started to cry harder, "w-what i want?" the empty glass found its way back to the coffee table with an audible thump, "what makes you think i want to end this, sungho? you'd have to see me to know anything about what i think."
"you never made the effort." he shrugged, but he didn't know why he said that. “you should’ve tried harder.”
but you knew his pride was bigger than his heart, and playing this game would only end with a losing screen.
"are you fucking kidding me?" you acted faster than your brain could keep up with, standing up and approaching him. you didn't know what you were going to do, but anything for him to understand how much he hurts you — anything at all. "will you come over? sorry, i'm tired. did you eat? yes. should i bring you guys the cookies i made today? sorry, we're not at the dorm. i'm here, let me know when you arrive. i'm so sorry, i completely forgot about my schedule today, can we do something when promotions are over? can we talk? i miss you. sorry, busy." you used the back of your hand to wipe the tears away, "do you — no, did you ever love me, sungho? do you even fucking care that i only hear you when its your voicemail telling me you're unavailable? do you even know how stupid i feel staying in a bed for two when it's just me every night? i call you my boyfriend but i don't know what that really means. what am i to you? what am i really? because i don't feel like you know either."
the look on his face could be described as none other than horrified, confused, maybe even a little bit of anger and sadness. he was a mix of emotions, but you couldn't say you were exactly clear-headed either.
you just wished you could read his damn mind.
"tell me! t-tell me i'm wrong." and you couldn't decide if that was a desperate plea to hold on subconsciously making itself known. all it was missing was a broken please, a not-so-silent beg for all of this to just be wrong. incorrect. so far from the truth.
god, you hated him, but that's why you loved him so fucking much.
he made you so angry, so hurt sometimes. he challenged your peace of mind. he made it very known within your psyche that he was different. he was like nobody else you've ever loved. nobody you've ever had the pleasure to touch and be touched by. you were heading full speed for the edge of a cliff with broken brakes. you were so out of control, a one-in-a-million change that you'd survive, but if it meant you could rebuild the house you'd once converted into a home with him, you'd take those odds. those terrible odds that didn't ease your anxiety. but there was always something about him you were prepared to fight for — and maybe that's why you've held onto the edge for so long.
"do you even know how embarrassing it is to be stood up by your own boyfriend, having to cancel your reservation in front of everyone? to have to beg to hold your hand? to have to repeat yourself a million times because you were busy reading texts?" not when the road has ended and you've been exploring the wilderness alone; mapless, in the middle of a thunderstorm. you loved him, you really did, but did you only say that to hold onto any form of comfort you used to not have to fight to get? "i love you so, so much, sungho. i just want you to understand that everything we've built feels so fragile and uncertain. i don't want to end this, but i don't know how far i can go. i-its killing me."
and you could only dig the grave so deep before you hit rock-bottom.
is it too late? well, maybe that's what you feared the most. maybe you feared that he wasn't hearing a word that you've said. maybe every little thing you've overthought was just a regular thought. maybe you weren't being dramatic. maybe it was all okay now that you've finally gotten it off your chest.
so, why did you feel violently nauseous as he stood in silence? why did you regret stepping waist-deep in the mess you've made? if you were making the bed, you had no right complaining that it was too hard.
maybe you should stop blaming yourself...
if it was out of your hands, then why'd you feel the sand slipping through your fingers? why would you feel the shake from the chill that crisped the air? if this was how it was supposed to work out, then why'd you have to meet at all? did he really add that much to your life?
yes.
he brought too much to your life, you were scared to have to figure out how to live without them.
but, maybe you already had?
your mouth opened once again, maybe it was to prompt him into answering you, or maybe you didn't know what you were going to do. nonetheless it didn't matter, as you were shut up before a syllable dared leave your throat.
you had questions haunting you, but with the way his lips touched yours, it made you draw a blank. you wanted to know if he cared — even if only a little — however the beat of his heart, that you could feel through his thumbs against your cheeks, told you a different story. a story you hadn't thought of the ending to yet.
was this just a page you hadn't turned? was this just a dreadful chapter that had been dragged out? was this just a word you couldn't pronounce, much less describe that kept you stuck rereading the same paragraph?
was he finally turning off the burner? was he finally going to either, let you let him go, or tighten your grip?
he pulled back, tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes, "i'm sorry." and that was more than any stupid explanation could ever offer you. "y/n, tell me how to fix it — i-i don't want to end this."
you wrapped your arms around his neck, caging him into a long awaited hug. “just love me.” and his stuck firmly around your waist, squeezing tighter every time he felt a minuscule movement.
“i do.” he whispered back through quiet sniffles, right next to your ear, it gave you goosebumps. it was something you wanted to hear, needed to know, “i really, really love you.”
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reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!
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luvring · 9 months
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LOVING YOU IS EASY
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gn!reader | bokuto fluff ^___<
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“we could go window shopping?” bokuto suddenly suggests from his spot beside you on the bench.
“no we could not.” you laugh in disbelief before looking back down at your phone.
through a series of miscommunication, you and your boyfriend have found yourselves at the mall to watch a movie with his team that isn't playing for another 3 hours. it's a weird amount of time where going home doesn't make sense, but you don't have other plans either.
“why not?”
“because it’s never just window shopping.”
kotaro tilts his head, genuinely confused. “huh? i don’t buy that much.”
“for you. i put something back and you’re suddenly behind me putting it in a cart i didn’t even see you grab,” you explain with a light flick to his forehead. “stop spending your money on me.”
kotaro pouts and shifts in his spot beside you to get even closer—he always gets more affectionate when he’s trying to convince you of something. you’ve grown accustomed to the way his arms wrap around your center, and his face finds place in the crook of your neck. his hair tickles your face and you lean away, only giving him the opportunity to nuzzle closer and kiss your jaw. “but i like spoiling you. you deserve it.”
“what happens when my closet gets too full from all the clothes you buy me? or there’s no more space on my poor bookshelf?”
“i’ll get you another bookshelf! you can have my closet.”
“yeah? where are your clothes gonna go then?”
“i’ll put them somewhere at the bottom.”
“liar.” you laugh breathily and pinch his cheek. “they’d get all wrinkled and you’d get pouty and ask where the steamer is.”
“then i’ll get a dresser.”
“then why couldn’t i get a dresser?” 
“the closet’s more space,” he says as if it were obvious.
“kotaro,” you drag out his name. the way your boyfriend fawns over has always been a little hard to believe. it was easy for anyone to see that loving you came effortlessly to him, affection woven into every breath he took and gaze that landed in your vicinity. when you’d ask how and why, what it was about you, his brows would furrow and he’d purse his lips. “what do you mean? everything about you, i guess?”
and it's not like you didn’t have your own income to get him gifts either. but every time you do, your boyfriend seems to take it as a sign to get you double what you got him. it isn’t in a competitive way—he’s told you himself that he just gets so happy that he wants to make sure you’re even happier.
so you make yourself welcome his affection and every “i love you” he yells before having to part ways. you let every hug and kiss wrap around you like a blanket, let them seep into your bones and whisper soft words of affection that promised to love you the same to the ends of the earth, or until you’d believe each one as easily as they were spoken.
but you think guilt would always find its way, slipping through hidden cracks in the heart you’ve built, chipping away in search of its companion, hatred, slumbering somewhere inside.
kotaro looks up at you at the sound of his name, hair tickling you again, and eyes somewhere between pleading and determined. your noses are only a few inches apart, as if a closer proximity would make your words soak into him easier. “i’m serious, you don’t have to spend your money on me, ko.”
“and i’m serious when i say i want to.” he says, furrowing his brows and bringing his hands up to cup your face, too. you’re sure the both of you look silly, sitting on a bench, holding each other’s faces, but kotaro doesn’t hesitate or care about passersby.
you’re not sure he ever has when it came to loving you.
“i don’t want you to worry about stuff like that, y’know? i have more than enough money to spend to make you happy, so why wouldn’t i?”
he says your name, in a tone more serious than his usual one. “i love you. i love getting you things and seeing you happy. you always think i’m giving you too much, right? but i don’t think so. even if you don’t see it, you do a lot for me just by being you. this is me showing you i love you just as much, and that you can rely on me, too.”
you’re not surprised at how easily he speaks, yet your eyes still search his, looking for some kind of hesitation, a sign he’s lying that you know doesn’t exist. you huff. “if i’m super cheesy and say i don’t need your money to be happy, will you stop spending it?”
he smiles at you. “nope! ’cause i already know that.”
you sigh, lips twitching into a defeated smile. “don’t know why i tried.”
“so i can keep spoiling you? if we check out the new store that opened, i promise i won’t spend a lot this time.”
“what’s considered a lot?”
“dunno, maybe a few shirts?” he considers. you shoot him a look of disbelief. “...less than a few? is a few five? four? three? it’s three? by definition?”
“ko.”
“three. okay. the price of three shirts. really! seriously. there was just something i think you’d like—”
“ko.”
“baby, okay, what if—okay, something we’d like?” he starts to stand up, hands grabbing yours to pull you up with him.
you jokingly groan and pull back. “will we make it back in time for the movie?”
“of course! trust me,” he reassures you. you don’t trust him, of course. yet at the same time you jut out your lips, you let your fingers interlock with his so he can pull you, and kotaro shoots you a grin—the same one he always has around you, still coming as easily as spoiling and loving you seemed to.
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seeing the same green divider in all my notifications has been driving me not up but Through a wall in a Very big truck going Very fast so i will be regularly using different colours now.
🏷 | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @dimslover @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired
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dottedsilktie · 1 month
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Red Chevy baby
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Spring cleaning always gets you emotional, especially when it's time for Toji to try - and fail - to get rid of your beloved old red Chevy. This year, you take a trip down memory lane and Toji takes it as a chance to share a cautionary tale with your son, Megumi.
cw : +18, smut, car sex, swearing and mild degradation, love confessions, breeding kink, piv, unprotected sex, pet names, fluff
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Toji is standing in your home’s garage, a hand on his hip, his sharp gaze zeroed in on the old Camaro collecting dust in a dark corner. You watch him from where you’re lounging on the long chair he’s set up for you on the nearby grass. It’s a scene you’re familiar with, one you’ve seen unfold many times before but it still strikes the same bittersweet feeling in you.
He mutters something to himself, now putting both hands on his hips and widening his stance. It almost looks like he’s staring down the car, a silent battle of wits. The old cherry red carcass is the same as ever - impassible, quiet, happy to rest after years of being well-loved. You peer at it over the rim of your sunglasses and it looks like an apparition, specks of muted carmine flashing through a dust haze. What used to be sleek lines, is now worn out and dulled, and somehow more charming than when Toji first bought it. You still remember the first time he’d picked you up in it.
It was his first big splurge : clean money, he’d sworn on his life and when you told him it didn’t mean anything, he doubled down and swore on the brand new pony car. He took you for a test drive in the city, a little self-satisfied smirk on his face the whole ride. Above all, you remember the way his smug smirk grew into a genuine boyish smile when you finally told him how proud he’d made you. It felt like he’d atoned for everything he’d done in his wretched life before you. It was also a tacit promise, one of a better life – a clean one.
He kept true to his words after that and the little Camaro was his witness through it all. In every little scratch to its bumper, there’s a story you reminisce about with misty eyes.
Toji snaps you out of your little daydream, grumbling “I’m getting rid of her for good this time”. He turns to face you with an already wavering determination. You’ve had the same talk countless times before ; his going in the garage for spring cleaning, gauging the car up and threatening to get rid of it, only to come back inside with a defeated air and a mumbled promise to do it some other time.
It’s endearing, the ill-masked sentimentality of it all.
So you play along, sighing and getting up from your chair, strutting to him with a wry smile. “Are you now ?”, you quip with a quirked brow. “Hell yeah I am, it’s just a pile of junk ; why the fuck should we keep it ? Just takes up space”, he grumbles.
The feigned irritation in his voice doesn’t match the softness in his eyes or the sappy upwards twitch of his scarred lip when he stares at the Camaro for a tad too long. You press yourself against him then, your arms encircling his waist, “Or we can just keep it, maybe take it out for a drive some time. You could even repair it, hand it down to Megs !”. You sound hopeful and you feel Toji relax in your hold until you mention Megumi, then he freezes and stares down at you, gaze nothing short of horrified.
“Absolutely not, do you want the fucker to knock up some girl in there ? We both know this car is fucking cursed or something”. He shivers against you and you just laugh. Your effervescent fit of giggles soothes his initial horror, and he lets out a deep laugh of his own.
There’s a beat of silence when you share a knowing grin, both reminiscing on shameless moonlit trysts in the backseat of Toji’s car, when he was still rooming with Shiu and the urge to fuck you got the better of him. It was easier to have you in the ‘privacy’ of his car than to risk having Shiu hear your pretty whimpers of pleasure Toji treasured so much, he reasoned. He was as territorial as they come - still is - so you grew well acquainted with the cool leather seats of the cramped Camaro.
One occurrence stands out, though. At the time you hadn’t seen him in days, away on a job of your own, and when you reunited you were both beyond pent-up. For the first time you were the one begging him for a quick fuck, just something to dull the edge of the sharp want twisting your insides before Shiu was out of Toji’s hair so he could make up for lost time properly.
Toji was quick to agree, driving you in a secluded parking lot. Before he could even turn the engine down, you were lunging towards him, one hand supporting you on the centre console and the other twisting in the fabric of his shirt. You were already a wanton mess, kissing the corner of his scarred lips in a silent plea for more and he was too happy to be desired to deny you, opening his mouth to sloth his tongue against yours. It was messy and sloppy, a cacophony of broken whimpers and the unmistakable rustling of clothes being shed.
He swiftly pulled you on his lap, ridding you of your blouse and kissing his way down to your collarbones. He was a man starved, sucking shamelessly at the sensitive skin above your breasts then trailing wet kisses up the exposed column of your throat, relishing in your little mewls and the fevered drag of your clothed cunt on his growing bulge.
“I missed you so much, pretty girl - fucking hell, I couldn’t stop thinking about you”, he groaned into your skin, deft fingers undoing your bra with practised ease and moving to pull at your pebbled nipples. Even in your lust fuelled high, you could find it in you to be flustered, his words going straight to your untouched clit and making you squirm harder against him.
It should’ve been ridiculous to feel so much from so little, pleasure overpowering the discomfort of the empty belt buckle digging in your knee, the shame of dripping in your underwear just from words and small kisses but you’d never wanted anyone more and you were past hiding it.
You ground your hips harder into him, cupping his face and pulling his mouth away from where he was biting down on your nipple to kiss him fervently, pleading into his mouth, “Toji, more – Fuck, I need you, I missed you too”. He smiled against your kiss, running his hands down your sides then holding your waist in a loose grip, forcing you into a slower, more deliberate rhythm against his leaking cock. “Yeah ? What do you need, baby ? Say it and I’ll give it to you”, he cooed against your lips but before you could answer he was already dragging into another searing open-mouthed kiss, his hold on your waist tightening into a bruising grip. You drank down everything he had to offer, spit running past the corner of your lips, and he was just as eager to taste you.
You wordlessly guided one of his hands down to the hem of your skirt and when his thumb grazed the damp lace of your underwear, you almost let out an airy whimper of his name. You were back to humping his cock straining against his jeans, no real rhythm to your movements, just the urge to feel more, give more then take everything he had to offer.
Toji took care of you though, like he always did : he dug his large fingers into your thigh enough to hurt, slowing you down and making you wince against his lips, then he was pulling your ruined panties to the side and running a finger along your slit. He hissed at the contact and you moaned. “Soaking wet already, my baby’s so eager for me”, he mused to himself, a heady pleasure starting to cloud his senses.
“A couple of days away got your pretty pussy leaking just from a few kisses, poor baby ; want me to make it better, fuck the neediness out of you ?”, he mumbled against your throat, hiding the alarming shade of red flushing his cheeks, relieved that he could conceal his arousal behind yours.
It only heightened your pleasure as you nodded fervently and chased the fingers he used to pinch and pull at your puffy lips, breathlessly asking for “Just one finger, please Toji”.
Your little pleas, so desperate and polite but unmistakably ravenous, made his head swim with pleasure so he stopped his teasing and traced a finger down to your hole, circling it. He swore he could hear the ecstasy in your airy voice when you sunk down on his finger, rocking your hips back and forth and fuck, you were tighter than usual, so much wetter too.
When you’ve been starved for days, every little touch is magnified so you rode his digits like you would his cock - eyes closed and walls spasming, and you were rewarded with another thick finger sinking in you and curling alongside the first. Toji spread them out inside of you and circled your clit in small, measured strokes of his thumb, eager to have more of your slick pouring down his palm, to see your pretty face twist in pleasure while you fucked yourself on his hand. He was obsessed with the idea of you using him to get off, it was exhilarating ; it sent a rush like no other in him, a tingling sensation blooming in his chest followed by a jolt of pleasure in his cock and a heady pride clouding his mind.
“Are you close ?”, he whispered in between sucks to one of your pert nipples. He knew you were, could easily tell from how much you were leaking and shaking around his fingers, but he liked hearing your whiny voice slur out the words anyway. “Y-Yeah, I’m so close Toji, please keep going”, you pleaded, high-pitched and needy. Suddenly, he stopped moving his fingers inside of you and bit down on your nipple, hard. It made you squeak and jolt in his lap, your ruined orgasm paining you more than the mean tug of his teeth around your flesh. “Ask for it" , Toji groaned. "Beg me nicely and I might just let you cum".
You were all too happy to tell just how much you needed him, frenzied pleas bubbling out past your kiss-swollen lips before you could even think, “Please, please I need you; I-I– haven’t even touched myself in days; can’t cum without you anymore”.
It would’ve been pathetic if it didn’t get Toji’s dick impossibly harder, plaguing his mind with images of his darling girl trying to fuck herself to sleep in a dingy hotel room miles away from home, only to relent and let all that pent-up lust fester. He was getting drunk off of your little mewls and your hushed confessions, spurring you on, “Yeah ? You waited to come back to me so I can get you off ? Is that why you begged me to fuck you in the car like a whore ?”.
Because you were easy, his crudeness did it for you and you turned into a babbling mess, confessing to everything ; how you counted the days down until you could see him again, how you’d tried and failed to get yourself off to thoughts of his hands and mouth on you, how badly you needed him. It sent him in a frenzy, the pace of his fingers slamming in your cunt and against that tender spot inside you becoming truly brutal. Toji thought he might cum untouched just from the unmistakable clenching of your cunt around his fingers trying to suck him in and the high keen of his name escaping your rosy lips.
He covered up his own pleasured groans against your tits, mumbling shameless praise that heightened the ebb and flow of your orgasm, telling you just “What a fucking good girl you are, making a mess on me; you’re so beautiful when you cum, I need you to soak my cock like you did my fingers”.
He didn’t waste time reclining his seat and pushing it as far as possible from the steering wheel, taking his already leaking cock out of his trousers and pumping it a few times.
You were out of it, barely lucid after your first orgasm but you were already eyeing his cock with the voracious glint in your eyes that Toji’s became well acquainted with so he had no qualms about pushing you down into his cock even as you hissed and whined. He was courteous enough to let you experimentally roll your hips and get used to the burning stretch, but when you relaxed around him, he grabbed your ass and started guiding you up and down his length at a dizzying pace.
You were a wanton mess all over again, quickly recovering from the remnants of your first orgasm and already chasing the next and Toji just had to wonder how he even had it in him to let you go in the first place.
Every time you left for one of your business trips, he found himself yearning for you more. He craved you all the time and not just for the sex, these days he’s grown content to just do anything or nothing at all with you - running errands, watching movies, playing house at his tiny apartment when Shiu finally fucked off and he realised it only really felt like a home when you were there anyway, so maybe he was getting all sappy or maybe he --
“I love you”, he blurted out without thinking, balls deep inside you and face buried in your tits.
It was barely above a whisper but it was there, soft and weightless, and the air around you shifted under the pressure of things unsaid finally snapping.
You froze above him, pretty doe eyes looking down at him in awe and…relief ? He couldn’t be sure, not when the pale light of tired lampposts barely pierced through the darkness of the small car.
He almost wanted to backpedal, tell you that he didn’t mean it or laugh it off as crazed sex talk but then you were bending down to kiss him and his brain short-circuited.
You were painfully sweet, swollen lips brushing the scar bisecting his mouth and pressing featherlight kisses against his cheeks and jaw. “I love you too”, you whispered in a honeyed voice. It made him swallow around the lump in his throat, engorged cock twitching uncontrollably against your snug walls, and he thought that he could've died a happy man then and there.
He marvelled at how easy it was for you to make him spiral, your hushed confession was like a saccharine high that cut through a lifetime of bitterness, and he had to hear it again, begged you - “Say it again, say it”.
“I love you so much, honey” this time was even better than the first, deliberate and slow, your smile apparent in your voice. He laughed a little with you, breathless and so happy his chuckle threatened to break into a stifled sob. “Honey”, he parroted and you nodded, “Don’t like it ?”.
“I love it, wanna hear more”, he admitted in hushed whisper and you were eager to please him, lifting off your hips and slamming them back down against his with a drawled out moan of the pet name. Then you were the one fucking him, a slow rhythm of your ass slapping his thighs, the lull in between the sound of skin against skin filled with your mewled “I love you”’s.
“Don’t think I can let you go after this”, he mumbled into your chest, painfully honest, arms loosely draped around your waist just to slow you down. You laughed breathlessly against him, reaching a hand to brush inky black hair out of his eyes, “I don’t plan on going anywhere, Toji”.
You rolled your hips harder against him and squeezed around his length, “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me”.
That’s all the reassurance he needed before he picked up speed again, thrusting his hips up so he could fuck into you and draw more of those happy little sounds he loved so much. He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, drinking in how well you took him and how beautiful you looked, then everything he’s held back spilt out, a diluvian stream of consciousness - confessions of you how long he’s loved you, how he couldn’t bear to be separated from you, how hard he’s tried to get clean just for you.
It had you sobbing against him, his new-found candour and the brutal drag of his veiny cock in your sensitive cunt igniting a white-hot pleasure deep in your belly.
What got you though is his the strain in his voice when he promised to become even better just for you, nonsensical babbles about domestic bliss - “I’ll be so good to you sweetheart, I’ll give my pretty girl anything she needs - fuck, I’ll get you a nice ring and a white picket fence house and – a-aah shit, you’re sucking me in – anything at all, just say the word and it’s yours”.
The suburban dream he painted had you clawing at his shoulders as your orgasm threatened to rush through you. “Just want you, Toji” you slurred out, tender and sincere and it spurred him into fucking you in a mind-numbing high, pumping you full of his cum and kissing you through it and promising, “I’m already yours, sweetheart”.
His orgasm felt never-ending, rope after rope of sticky cum pouring into your fluttering cunt. He smoothed one large hand over your lower stomach, musing absentmindedly, “You’re just so good, letting me fuck you full of cum. You just keep sucking me in like you want it to take, greedy little thing”.
With your sex-high wearing off, you hid your face in his neck, chiding, “Stop saying that”.
“What ? That you like being bred ?”, his thundering laugh cut through the thick silence of the car and you hit his chest to shut him up.
A pleasant quietness settled over you once again and Toji spoke up after a while, “Hey, but what if it works ?”.
“It won’t, I’m on birth control you imbecile”.
“Lose the attitude, I know you are but I’m just sayin' - hypothetically, if you were to get pregnant then…”, he trailed off, bringing one large to brush your hair out of your face, levelling a hesitant gaze at your flushed face. You let a heavy silence hang between you.
“Then ?”
“Then I’ll kick Shiu out to make room for the new brat”.
“Good thing I won’t get pregnant then”.
And surely enough, you did get pregnant (to your mild horror and Toji’s delight) and the only explanation Toji came up with after all those years was that the little Camaro cursed you into being fertile when you shouldn’t have been.
Your intimate reverie and the quiet of the late afternoon are disturbed as a chipper pair of boys runs to you on the yard, tufts of pink and black hair obstructing your view when the pair jumps in your arms. Megumi and his friend-turned-brother Yuuji are eager to tell you about their day but their attention is quickly diverted from you as they catch a glimpse of the old red car in the garage.
Before they can make a run for it and inspect it, Toji grabs them both by the collar and lifts them up, scowling menacingly at Megumi, “Now listen boy, if there’s one rule you need to follow under my roof, it’s to never get near that car - it’s cursed, you hear me?”. Megumi looks quizzically at his father, then at you, and finally nods before scurrying inside the house with his friend. You laugh at Toji, hugging him again, “So intimidating, don’t want the kid to know where he came from ?”. “Shut up, I’m just not ready to be a grandpa”, he retorts, flicking your forehead then kissing it better.
You think the old Camaro still has some good days ahead of it though, because like he’s done countless times before, Toji ends up covering the car again and vowing to get rid of it some other time.
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