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#this really had my creative juices going
theloveinc · 1 year
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not to turn this blog into a mental health journal LOL, but had therapy for the first time in maybe... 3-4 years... and was asked about my sexual libido because apparently it can be an indicator of mental health levels (?).
and honestly i'm just so relieved to hear that because... ofc it relates to my real life and stuff (not being interested in sexual relationships currently) ... bUT ALSO I'VE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO FIGURE OUT WHY I STOPPED WRITING SMUT lmfaoooooo.
which isn't to rule out other factors and reasons, too😖... but knowing it's not entirely my fault and being able to relate that to my (other) creative processes as well... i'm jumping for joy LOL.
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signedkoko · 3 months
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Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!
I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3
🦷 anon
Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]
In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.
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One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping
Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you
Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts
The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar
Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else
The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe
On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look
But this time, the guy would just not get the hint
" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "
Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly
Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand
That's when the bleeding starts
You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door
Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot
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You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake
A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen
But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch
Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak
It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone
The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed
Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh
" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "
That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon
" I'm only worth one finger? "
" Nah. Just being generous for once. "
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Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked
Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off
He usually goes for the latter
He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'
You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles
Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended
During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip
" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "
Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms
" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "
Jealousy 3000
He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees
New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy
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Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩
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holybibly · 1 month
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I think my brain refuses to accept anyone else but Seonghwa today. Sorry not sorry, bunnies, but if I suffer, you'll suffer too.
These are my unholy thoughts.
You've been an Ateez fan for a long time, so when you got the chance to go to their concert, even with VIP passes, you went crazy. God, to be able to see Ateez in real life—isn't that a dream come true?
You had a liking for all of the members—well, maybe not all of them. Seonghwa, you just weren't interested in him; you didn't really understand all the hype around him, and he wasn't really your type on the outside.
The sound check went well, and then you had the opportunity to have a quick chat with the members before the start of the show. You literally melted under Hongjoong's gaze, almost flowing across the floor and shining like the damn sun just from Yeosang smiling at you. The boy was an angel; you could see the divine light that was in his surroundings. San was such a gentleman, and Woo was so playful and full of fun. God, the way Mingi said your name in that deep voice of his took your breath away, and Jongho was so adorable you couldn't help but want to kiss his soft cheeks. Need I mention how gorgeous Yunho's hands were? He could literally wrap his whole arm around your neck.
And then there was Seonghwa, of course. You greeted him politely but were happy to escape his dark, feline gaze whenever you had the chance. He was... Intense and his presence beside you sent a shiver down your spine.
It would be an understatement to say that this drove Seonghwa crazy. The blood in his veins was literally boiling with rage.
"How dare you disregard him! He's a fucking Park Seonghwa."
But Seonghwa was determined that by the end of the concert, you would be drooling and your juices running down your thighs just looking at him, and damn, the boy did his best.
The fans went crazy, literally swooning over his sexy moves, demonic charisma, and, of course, his tongue. Seonghwa was even moving his hips a hundred times harder than usual, but you... you didn't even look in his direction; you were completely captivated by San and his damn dimpled smile. Seonghwa wasn't jealous. No, of course he wasn't. He is Park Seonghwa. He is the epitome of sexiness and greatness, and you didn't care about him. He hated you like hell.
For you, the concert was just great; you enjoyed every second of it, had a lot of fun, and seemed to have completely lost your mind over San. God, the man was literally a wet dream. All in all, you could say that your night had been a meaningful and joyful one, but Seonghwa was left with a bad taste in his mouth after you had left. When you met for the second time that day, this time for a sweet farewell, you didn't even approach him. You just turned towards him and bowed formally as a farewell.
You did fucking bow. As he watched Wooyoung shamelessly spin you around in his arms, his sensual, plump lips curled in disgust. A bit more, and his hands would have been on your buttocks in a kneading motion. Seonghwa didn't want his hands to touch your soft, plump flesh at all. And he didn't stare at your tits at all, which literally bounced with every move you made and made Yeosang's cheeks blush. He was a second away from the words to them:
"Go ahead, fuck her right here; don't mind me."
But it all ended as quickly as it had begun. Now you are leaving with the rest of the VIP fans, taking Seonghwa's interest in you with you.
Even the day after the concert Seonghwa couldn't stop thinking about you, you just wouldn't let him go. He needed to relax, clear his mind and forget about the stupid fan who didn't even understand her own happiness. He looked at you, maybe he even could fucked you, and you just kept on staring at San's damn dimples.
Seonghwa was literally seeing red.
So he had recourse to his favourite form of relaxation - dancing. And let's just say: Park Seonghwa had a very creative approach when it came to relaxing.
This club was not a big one, and it was certainly not known to the general public. It was very private, and it was by invitation only, which was more difficult to get hold of than tickets for a BTS concert. It made you feel very privileged, like royalty.
In the last few days, your life couldn't have been better. Yesterday you had an Ateez concert, and today a private strip club that was completely inaccessible to ordinary people—hell, not even all the rich and famous could be on the guest list. But you were. And you couldn't be more grateful to your friend, who was fucking the owner. Pussy power, as they call it.
The evening passed under a soft, sexy bass, and the alcohol consumption heightened the senses. Your inhibitions became more and more vague, which is why you didn't even think twice before you agreed to a lap dance with a super-elite and fucking unrealistic stripper. You didn't know what to expect when your friend laughed and pushed you into the small room, giggling and saying, "Have fun."
Waiting for the show to begin, you slowly sat down on the soft plush couch in front of the small stage. Before you entered the room, your friend pushed some papers into your hands, something about confidentiality or security. You still didn't understand it; your brain was foggy from all the cocktails you had drunk, but you signed everything they told you.
The lights dimmed and a sensual, slow bass filled the room. God, you have to fuck with music like that. Your eyes were fixed on the tall, lithe figure, surrounded by shadows, as he bent down around the pole. It was a man, and you had to say it was incredibly handsome, even though you had not yet seen his face, but you were sure of it.
His legs were long and slender, his hips swaying vulgarly as he fucked the air, and that slutty waist... Your mouth was in drool.
He made a few more turns around the pole, sliding down the length of it and arching his plump ass. And then, at last, you saw his face, and you froze like a deer caught in the headlights, your mouth opening and closing helplessly in a complete stupor.
With cat-like eyes, sharp cheek bones, and full, wet lips, the man standing in front of you was none other than Park Seonghwa.
When Seonghwa met the gaze of his 'client', he stopped breathing for a second. It was you, the girl, because of which he had come here today. He was supposed to point out that you looked damn sexy, all petite, curvy, and voluptuous in a tight, shiny sequin dress. It showed off your luscious big tits and sweet thighs. Seonghwa's teeth ached with the desire to bite when he saw the naked skin untouched by the sun.
You were so stunned that you didn't even notice the idol who was standing in front of you until his fingers had wrapped themselves around your chin.
"Isn't this my luck, kitten, hmm?" Seonghwa asked you as he stroked the side of your cheek with his thumb.
"I-I even..." But as Seonghwa straddled you with ease and rolled his hips sensually against you, all words died on your tongue. His tall figure towered over you, and in the purple light, he looked like a real demon who had come to take your soul away from you.
As he tilted your head back so that you looked into his eyes, his long fingers ran through your hair, tugging hard at the strands.
When he spoke, it was in a deep, sexy, angry voice.
"I'm going to teach you some respect, kitten. When I'm done with you, you'll know better than to ignore your mommy."
And Seonghwa meant every word, bending down to plant a harsh kiss on your soft, supple lips.
Yesterday's concert may have been great. But Seonghwa is going to give you a private show that will be a million times better.
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amoreva · 2 months
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ROMEO AND FAIR JULIET
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pairing: biker!luke castellan x fem!reader
summary: luke loves his bike, a present from his father. it allows him to get out of camp fast as well as take him on late night rides. luke loves his bike, but he loves you a lot more.
warnings: ooc luke, rushed ending, no specific parent for reader, chris shows up!
a/n: the creative juices are not flowing right now, i’ll try to revise it. and I’ll hopefully revise the ending later 😭
requested: yes!! (don’t have og request)
—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–
“Look who showed up.” Your friend grinned widely. Her head sticking out the window of your dorm room. You get off your bed and joined her.
A couple floors down was Luke in gray sweatpants, black compression shirt and a black jacket. His mischievous smile brightened when you popped your head out the window.
“Hey, pretty girl.” He called out. Your boyfriend snuck onto your college campus. You knew exactly what he wanted to do.
Late night rides on his motorcycle.
The motorcycle was a gift for Hermes, an apology. It could take Luke anywhere he wanted. He just had to go 88 mph, like the DeLorean from Back to the Future.
“Stay there, Romeo!” Your essay could be done later. It’s been a bit since you hung out with Luke. He just got back from a quest recently. Thankfully—he didn’t fail this time, nor get any scars.
“Please cover me.” You begged your friend, tugging on your jacket and sliding some pajama pants over your shorts.
Before she could answer, you’re out the door and racing down the stairs. You completely disregard the need to be sneaky and secretive.
“My fair, Juliet.” Luke smiled as you ram into him. A tight embrace. He quickly broke the hug he and looked around, excited to be reunited.
The Romeo and Juliet nicknames started since you started to go to college. He would always show up and stand under your balcony at night. It was quite cute really.
Luke grabbed your hand as you both ran out of your college campus, fleeing away in the cover of night. His trusty steed parked a little away from your dorm building.
“Up and at it.” He held your hips as your mounted the motorcycle like a horse. Your ears turned red (luckily hidden by your hair).
“Where are we going?” You asked, flipping the visor up and down on his extra helmet.
“Just you wait, my sun.” Luke smirked and put on his helmet, prompting you to do the same.
(You swear he’s been learning all about Romeo and Juliet from the Apollo Campers. He firmly denies it, but you know he has since you started college.)
Soon enough the stars were moving besides you as the vehicle raced down the streets of New York. Luke sped through red light and speed limit cameras without a care for human lives. “Supposedly,” the Mist was covering you two.
“Where are we going?!” You shouted and held onto his waist tighter. Your arms pressing against his abs.
Luke reached behind you and held your thigh. The motorcycle reached to 88 mph. Suddenly, a white flash surrounded the tow of you, transported you to an entirely different scene.
You and Luke parked on top of a mountain. A campsite to be specific. There was a table on top of a blanket. Flowers and your favorite snack by candles.
“You did keep complaining about your school work so…” Luke trailed off and removed his helmet. “I also know you miss camp since you started college—surprise!”
“Luke…” You mumbled and looked back at the camp counselor. “You didn’t have too. I would’ve been fine with just a ride out in the city.”
“Oh, but I wanted too.” Luke wrapped his arms around your hips. You tilted your head up at him. “Can’t have you burning out before you come back to camp.”
You kiss his lips appreciatively, tangling your hands in his curls. Luke paused but kissed you back. He spun you so you were pressed up against his motorcycle (he loved doing this). “Thank you…” You breathed out.
“Anytime—anything for you.” Luke trailed kisses down your jaw and neck, whispering it into your skin.
“You really are a Romeo.” You giggled.
“Then you at my Juliet.” Luke smiled into your neck
When summer break started and exams were finished, Luke was the first one to see you. Well—pick you up. You just moved out of your college dorm room and now packing up to stay at Camp Half-Blood. It was a quick hi and goodbye to your parent before you’re rushing down to meet your knight in orange armor.
“My fair, Juliet.” He greeted with a playfully bow.
“Romeo.” You curtsies with your imaginary dress. You were giddy, finally being able to leave college life to escape to Camp Half-Blood.
Soon enough you were running up Half Blood-Hill, greeted by your cabin mates and friends you haven’t seen for so long.
“Oh shit, College is back!” Chris shouted, leaving the new Hermes kid he was with to greet you. The nostalgic smell of Camp hits you and suddenly you yearn to never leave camp again.
“Missed you too, Mercutio.” You embraced Luke’s half-brother.
“Still? With that Romeo and Juliet shit?” Chris rolled his eyes.
“Hey, it’s cute.” Luke defended.
“Yeah cause you’re Romeo!”
“What do you and Clarisse want to be Romeo and Juliet?”
“What—no! She is no damsel in distress.”
“Neither is my girlfriend!”
“Yet you still call her Juliet.”
“Shut up.”
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xamag-draws · 7 days
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BBR thoughts 2024
Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies
This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not
So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters
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I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash
I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted
Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it
At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do
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Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction
So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older
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I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet
When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"
But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work
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If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now
I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:
Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)
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I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat
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I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least
I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example
I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep
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I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor
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I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence
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The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers
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Some new Dolly outfits
Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days
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Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo
I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused
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One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book
An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well
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So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)
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tearsofastraeax · 3 months
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hiii i just love ur stories and i was wondering, could u write a story where a lot of girls flirt with ghost (cause he's just so hot tbh) and we're crying and feeling bad bcs we're scared he'll find better since he dosen't reject or ignore them??
ty a lot and take care <3
thank u anon ♡ i had so much fun writing a lil angst
sorry it took me longer than expected to wrap up your request, the creative juices are not flowing these days, but i hope you enjoy ♡₊ ⊹
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It's no surprise to you that going out with an incredibly fine piece of man is going to come with some jealous feelings here and there.
Just a couple weeks after you started to hang out with Ghost, you noticed women staring at him. But you didn't blame them, how could they not stare? Ghost just naturally attracts women, with his broad shoulders, his veiny arms, those giant hands ... you could go on and on forever.
But you never expected to find yourself sitting in your bedroom, hiding underneath the blanket and silently sobbing into your pillow because of it.
Earlier that day when you were out with Ghost for a drink it really hit you. You had barely left for a minute to head to the bathroom, but when you came back you saw a beautiful woman standing next to him. Inching closer and closer to him, her hand on his shoulder and a flirty smirk on her face. And it didn't look like he was opposed to it in the slightest. His body was slightly angled towards her, his face covered in mystery behind his mask, but you could feel his smile, you just knew.
Your heart felt like it was about to drop, break apart, stop beating all together. Your stomach was in knots. Your thoughts ran a mile a minute, you had no right to be jealous, right? You were only seeing the man for a couple of weeks now, nothing serious... only, at one point, unbeknownst to you, your little heart had accepted him in and made it serious. You were fucked, royally fucked.
To feign calmness you took a slow breath, in and out. Before you made your way back to Simon and the woman still plastered to his side. You coughed uncomfortably to make them both aware of your presence.
It took him a moment to take his eyes off the woman, before he turned to you.
"Oh, this is my friend, y/n," he looked back towards her, gesturing to you.
You all but managed to swallow the big lump that had formed in your throat. His friend? Is that all you were? A friend? Nothing more? Did it only take one beautiful woman to suddenly make you nothing but a friend to him? You should have known this, it was just too good to be true. Of course he would find someone better than you. You felt your eyes begin to water, but you aggressively blinked the tears away. No, you were better than this.
"Yea, his friend", you pressed out, a tight and obviously fake smile on your lips. "Who is just about to leave actually. Have fun."
You grabbed the jacket haphazardly thrown over the seat next to the one you were just sitting on and turned around. Your legs carrying you out of the bar, you couldn't wait to get out of there, to just get away, as far as possible.
What you didn't see was Ghost's slightly confused expression as he watched you leave. But what you did know was he didn't follow you. Didn't he notice how upset you were? Did he just not care?
You huffed out an annoyed sigh, at yourself, at him, at the world, at everything.
You had barely made it home, slamming the door behind you, before the tears came. They welled up, making everything blurry, and then they came crashing over you like a wave, making it hard to breathe, harder to see and impossible to do anything but slide down against the door and sob into your hands.
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And there you were, laying in bed, an hour later, still fucking pissed and sad and helpless and jealous and ...
Your phone vibrated next to you, Simons name popping up on your screen. You tried to ignore the call but he immediately called again. Deciding to pick it up you heard a low growl in your ear, the hairs on your neck standing up, a slight shiver running down your back.
“Open the fucking door, y/n.”
The edge in his tone made you immediately jump off the bed. For a quick moment though you stopped in your tracks, hating how he could command you and make you feel, how he had so much power over you when clearly he didn't feel the same about you.
But you heard him pounding on your door, so you hurried to open it. The door swung open and his eyes immediately bore into yours. You swallowed down a thick lump in your throat as he crowded into you, effectively pushing the two of you into the apartment. He slammed the door behind him shut and stared down at you, never breaking eye contact.
"What the fuck was that?" He growled. You couldn’t fucking believe his attitude, weren’t you the one that was supposed to be angry?
You took in a deep breath before you answered, "well, I wasn't the one flirting with some chick..."
You meant for the words to come out more powerful, maybe even as aggressive as his. To make him understand that he had no fucking right to barge in here like this and act as if he had the right to demand answers.
"You...", his gaze softened then, shifting into ... surprise? "You're jealous?"
All you could do was shrug, feeling too raw from crying to vocalise your feelings. But to your surprise, he didn't say another word, his hand softly cradling your cheek. Your skin underneath his felt hot to the touch as you looked up to him. His eyes seemed so soft and gentle then, making your breath hitch in your throat. The feeling of him wrapped around you like a warm blanket was overwhelming. His gesture nearly stitching your heart back together all by itself.
"I'm sorry... I-", was all he could say before his lips pressed onto yours, so harsh and hurried, yet somehow gentle and sweet.
His hands slowly travelled down your body, once he reached your ass, he lifted you up so effortlessly, your legs immediately wrapping around his, as he carried you to the bedroom.
He gently whispered between kisses, "I'm gonna make it up to you, I promise."
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bitchimasnake-sss · 5 months
Note
pLEASE if you could write more of sub!OP men you would feed me for the entire winter (or just more luffy begging if it's no problem to you, love ur writing xoxo)
sorry for answering back so late i was absolutely out of any and all creative juice (lord help me), but i love writing sub!OP men and you guys seem to like it so here we go!! (im supposed to be on hiatus to focus on exams but writing smut never hurt nobody)
"i want to watch you fall apart, baby" ft. luffy <3
ft. (very submissive) luffy x (somewhat dom) fem!reader
set-up: you made a bet with the captain and he lost, now he has an aphrodisiac in his system and you have an insanely submissive boyfriend ;)
warnings: nsfw drabbles; nsfw stuff includes overstimulation, dirty talk, a bit of a meanie!reader, sub!luffy, all that haha; MDNI (thankyou very much)
luffy:
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^^ credits to the artist!! (found it on pinterest lol)
- you knew monkey d. luffy wasn't okay - it was evident from his strained breaths, reddening face and jittery body - "luffy, you okay?" your words were sickly sweet, cutting through the tension in the room as you looked at his sweet face - it was honestly a miracle he was even sitting still and not pulling you and hovering over you as he fucked you senseless - "ugh" he groaned, palming his borderline-painful erection, "pl-ease come on, please come fuck me" you tut, making a sympathetic face, "i thought we were going to see how long you can hold back?" "yn~" his head is thrown back, features pleading with you helplessly - a smirk crosses over your painted lips, taking in his disheveled self - the menacing captain of your crew was reduced to a animalistic state. his fingers barely skimmed over his pants and even the slightest touch seemed to ignite his skin on fire "yn please, pl-ease c'mere-" his voice was strained, as if he was holding every muscle in his being from pulling you towards him and fucking you senseless till he forgot where he ended and you began - good thing luffy was always quick to react - so he did just what he had been imagining for the past seven minutes; he pulled you towards himself, reeling you in till your chest was flush against his and you teeth scraped harshly against your lips - "lu-" all your attempts to stop him were swallowed by his hungry kisses; tongue lapping against yours, teeth pulling your lip down, spit threatening to dive past his lips - his mouth moved down to your jaw then to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses in its wake, "yn let me fuck you, please. please." - his hands ripped off your t-shirt and his teeth sunk down on the soft flesh across your chest. he hummed against your skin, as if relishing in the softness and the faint citric aftertaste lingering on your skin - he was going insane, harshly tugging on your nipples and pressing his face between the valley of your breasts, licking feverish stripes down, "i wanna fuck so bad, keep going till you beg me to stop, come on please" "re-really? you wanna? what do you- fuck, fu-" - without even lifting his mouth off of your sensitive nipple or opening his eyes, his hands forced yours to skim over his straining cock as if to accuse you, look what you fuckin' did to me - when your hands languidly palmed him, his face contorted till he was gasping and grinding against your shallowest touches - "don't play with me, baby, y'know-" his breath hitched when you increased the pressure and pressed down harder, "yn stop it" you laughed, a cocky sound, "what's wrong luffy?" - his eyes were wide open now, staring you down and as if he had lost of sense of himself, he growled as he turned you around so that you were face down, ass up. - a harsh smack reverberated against your ass and you moaned at the subtle sting, "i've been nice f' too long, huh? let's see how long you stay cocky with my dick down your pretty pussy."
a/n: i have another ask for the sub!op men and i was out of ideas so the others (including ace and shanks hehe) will be well compensated over there!! just hold on guys!!!
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feyascorner · 25 days
Text
11 | The Fangs Between Us
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summary. In his honest opinion, the artist who drew your portrait should be fired, even if he’s no expert in the arts. Your softer features are far too sharp, and your sharper features are far too soft, in what he supposes is an effort to ‘enhance’ your appearance, but now it just looks plain uncanny. They also forgot to take into account the scars of battle on your skin, a part of your hair that he remembers sticking out more, the sheepishness of your smile looking straight at the painter, the two puncture wounds on your neck…
Ah. He wonders if you still have those. The last time he saw them, they’d nearly faded. And nowadays, you make it a point to keep your neck tucked under your collar, which leaves everything to his imagination.
warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard
pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader
parts. TFBU masterlist
a/n. it's been a while! this isn't the longest of chapter but it's to kick my creative juices back into gear :) thank you sm for your patience friends <3
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He knows he hasn’t returned your cloak yet. Unfortunately for you, Astarion has taken a special liking to the dull fabric.
Despite its dreary grey shade and the tears from being worn relentlessly, it’s of surprisingly good quality. It’s the only reason it's survived this long, he reasons, and also why the sun can never pierce through its sewing job and burn into his own skin.
When he felt the tadpole leave him, he thought he would never see the sunlit streets of Baldur’s Gate again. But this cloak of yours has brought him a new sense of freedom he hadn’t had before—free of Cazador, free of an unwelcome visitor in his skull, free of the looming fear of death…and most importantly, free of his fear of the sun.
Being “stuck” in your home has given him too much time. Too much aimless staring at a book he’s already read four times over. Moreover, the others have become somewhat accustomed to his presence again…meaning some (Gale, specifically) don’t mind leaving Astarion by himself. And as much as he hates admitting it, Astarion would rather Gale’s incessant lectures rather than the boring silence you leave behind at the break of dawn.
An outing or two couldn’t hurt, surely.
So he embarks. Where to, he doesn’t know. But he leaves the house, making sure to lock the door behind him when he remembers how Shadowheart had scolded you for the mistake of not doing so. It’s not that he’s afraid of the cleric, of course. He’s a damn vampire, for heaven’s sake. He’s only being cautious.
The cloak makes it feel as if he were in an oven, especially with the weather becoming more sunny by the day, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when he’s finally standing in the middle of a bustling street, staring unblinkingly while others rush past him, all seemingly having a place to be. A newspaper boy here, a maid there, a circus performer somewhere there. He suddenly feels surrounded by too much life, and it’s not much help when he begins noticing fleeting glances in his direction. Wearing a thick winter cloak in the middle of the summer isn’t exactly common, after all.
“Baldur’s Mouth? They just started printing papers again, if you’d like a peek.”
Astarion glances down at the newspaper boy with squinted eyes, and his voice sounds snarkier than intended—not that he cares. “Who in the hells would pay two silvers for a newspaper that sucked up to Gortash just a few months ago? Does anyone really pay for this abomination?”
The boy frowns, crossing his arms. “If you didn’t want one, you could’ve just said so.”
“Really? Your incessant yelling around the market says otherwise,” Astarion snatches one of the papers, much to the boy’s distaste. He eyes the front cover for a split moment before realizing the very front page has a supposed ‘Exclusive Interview from the Hero of Baldur’s Gate! Never seen before!’
He finds himself reading.
“Mister, if you’re going to read, you have to pay!”
Though Astarion gives him a sharp glare that has the boy swallowing the lump in his throat, he relents, tossing one silver coin in his direction. Not without a click of his tongue, however, and the coin lands in the boy’s palms with a plop. “It’s two silvers.”
“I’m fully aware, don’t worry.”
The Baldur’s Mouth is full of cheap stories, surely paid off by its snotty writer as always, but Astarion acknowledges improvement where it’s due. Gortash’s death must’ve struck some sort of moral chord in the newspaper because a few of its columns are filled with mundane updates on the rebuilding of the city, even if they don’t provide as much entertainment as it surely could’ve if they stretched a few truths. He doesn’t read much into them, though, because he’s soon found himself a corner in Elfsong Tavern where he’s practically boring holes into the damn paper. The cover, specifically.
In his honest opinion, the artist who drew your portrait should be fired, even if he’s no expert in the arts. Your softer features are far too sharp, and your sharper features are far too soft, in what he supposes is an effort to ‘enhance’ your appearance, but now it just looks plain uncanny. They also forgot to take into account the scars of battle on your skin, a part of your hair that he remembers sticking out more, the sheepishness of your smile looking straight at the painter, the two puncture wounds on your neck…
Ah. He wonders if you still have those. The last time he saw them, they’d nearly faded. And nowadays, you make it a point to keep your neck tucked under your collar, which leaves everything to his imagination.
He wonders if you’re ashamed of them as he’s ashamed of the ones on his own neck.
Astarion tears his attention away from your portrait and resumes reading the actual paper.
The questions the interviewer asks are laughable, almost. They’re painfully boring or painfully intrusive, with nothing in between, resulting in awkward short answers or whatever filler the writer put in place of your answer. Half your words, at the very least, must’ve been altered, as they don’t sound much like you.
One question catches his eye.
‘So what does the hero of Baldur’s Gate plan to do after the city is rebuilt?’
Astarion lifts the paper closer to his face.
‘’This city is my home…but I don’t think I could stay here any longer than I have to. I’ve made some precious memories here, but I’ve also made ones that I’d rather move on from. People I want to move on from. For that reason, as much as I love this city, I’d have to embark for elsewhere.’’
His eyes widen. You’re leaving? When the hells did you decide that? 
‘Truly a sad day for the citizens to see their beloved bard leaving. Knowing our readers must be curious as to what their next step is, we made sure to discuss more on this matter.’
‘’Where will I go? I mean…I guess I’d just wander. Explore. Faerun is a vast continent. I’m sure I’ll have plenty to do. Plenty of people to meet.’’
Astarion’s gaze reaches the end of the page. The rest of the sentences babble on in flowery language praising you, which he doesn’t even bother reading before shoving the newspaper into one of the pockets of your cloak. He’s not sure if he would’ve preferred simply not reading the damn paper, but he tells himself that this is an improvement. A reason for celebration, even! Without you, he won’t have to tiptoe around the city any longer, nor will you need to worry about having to continue a months-long argument with him.
This is exactly what the two of you need. Space. For a while. Maybe forever. He stares at the beer stains on the table. Forever sounds like a long time, even if it’s only a few years to him and the rest of your life to you.
Forever sounds too long, yet not long enough.
He’s always wanted to be immortal. Even before he’d grown fangs and his eyes turned red. Sure, the path he took to get here…left a lot to be desired, but with Cazador gone, he supposes it’s not so bad, being a vampire—-besides the whole ‘not-being-able-to-see-the-sun’ fiasco. Sure, he has nightmares every other night about his time spent under his master, but without him, he’s essentially invincible as long as he doesn’t find a cleric who specializes in radiant magic. Sure, wine tastes like vinegar. Sure, he has to wear this suffocating cloak everywhere, but is it really so bad?
He sighs. It could be worse. He could be dead, for all he knows. Actually, dead.
Astarion stands to leave. This damn tavern is even more suffocating than his cloak, especially filled with patrons already half passed out from booze before noon. There’s a reason why he’s always preferred wine over whatever’s filling their cups.
He paces toward the door, but just as he’s halfway there, it swings open. And much to his horror stands a familiar cleric who nearly chucked a fork into his eye just this morning.
“Shadowheart,” the bartender smiles, ceasing his hand midway, polishing a cup. “What brings you here this morning?”
She certainly won’t miss her mark this time if she sees him out in public.
Astarion immediately turns on his heel and heads for the stairs. He practically shoves through multiple patrons in the process, but he manages to get there just as Shadowheart joins Alan at the bar, her arms looped around two large fabric bags as she greets him. They’re just within earshot, even as the spawn scrambles to get upstairs. “Just picking up our attire for the celebration and your tavern was on the way back. My friends and I do apologize for our inconsistent appearances…”
He doesn’t wait to hear the rest of their conversation because he’s already trying the doors to each of the rooms to figure another way out of the building. Most doors are locked shut, but there’s one he tries that slides right open.
Much to his distaste, it’s occupied.
He slams the door back shut just as the woman shrieks.
He peeks out the window. He could jump down, technically, but there are far too many people on the street in broad daylight to go unnoticed. And if there were to be a commotion, no doubt the damn cleric would come rushing out, thinking it’s another attack. So, instead of returning downstairs, he opts for the ladder leading to the rooftop, higher up into the building.
The warm air of the summer breeze hits him like an axe to the face.
Still, he climbs out, grateful to even managed to have escaped the same room as Shadowheart. Thank the heavens. And for a moment, he thinks he’s alone, until there’s another shrill voice rushing at him.
“There you are, Tav! I’ve waited days to see you here agai—" the tiefling stops, her smile dropping. "You’re not Tav.”
Way to state the obvious.
Clearly, he wants to spit back. But he’s too occupied trying to figure out why she looks so familiar to do so. He merely squints at her, which some might consider rude, but she doesn't seem to mind at all. Noticing his confusion, she blinks. “Wait, you’re Tav’s friend!”
Friend. He hasn’t been considered your friend in a long while.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on house arrest?” she tilts her head. “Did you maybe make up with Tav?”
Ah. You must’ve told her about his—peculiar arrangement.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Alfira. We met at the grove and Last Light Inn, didn’t we?” she offers him a smile, which he doesn’t return. She doesn’t wait for an answer either. “I wasn’t expecting you here…Did Tav send you?”
Astarion scrunches his nose as she squints at him, hands on either of her hips as she gauges how he seems to sink further into your cloak, hesitating to kiss the sun’s radiant glow. She doesn’t seem to think much of it, though, as she taps her foot impatiently. “Well?”
“I—yes,” is all his damn brain can spit out.
“Oh,” her face softens, and a soft small stretches across her lips. How gullible. It wasn’t even a particularly good lie. “You should’ve just said so. In that case, I must ask you how they’re doing…I haven’t seen them in weeks. Are they well? Have they started reading up on my lyrics? Have they got a message for me? Ah, scratch those, where are they right now?”
Hells. He’s already itching to jump off the roof.
“Does your head ever implode with all those questions racked inside of it?” he grumbles. “And I’m afraid I don’t know half the answers. Sorry to disappoint.”
Alfira’s shoulders relax as she leans back on her heel, eyes falling to her shoes before she looks back up. “...Well, that’s a shame. Then, what brings you here?”
This time, he’s prepared.
“Seeing the state you’re in, my appearance was warranted. They only wished for me to ensure they’re doing well. It’s a busy time of year, you see, and they haven’t had the time to indulge your—-outings up here.”
“That’s good to hear.”
An awkward silence hangs in the air like a deathtrap, and he wishes he could say something—anything else about what you’ve been up to, but it comes up empty. It’s not like the two of you are on terms to sit down and have a chat every week over tea, but he’s not sure if he knows any more about what you’re doing than this bard standing right before him. You don’t play music anymore. You don’t frequent the bars as much as you used to. You don’t do a lot of things anymore. But what do you do?
It irks him: not knowing, that is.
He only realizes moments later that the bard has been talking this entire time.
“---and I’d really appreciate it if you could take it to them. I can’t imagine anyone else using it as well as they did,” she reaches behind her bag perched against the stair rails, and lifts something in his direction. He’d be a fool not to recognize it anywhere. It’s a pretty thing, the lyre. Your lyre. “I don’t know how I managed to find this at the market, but I like to think it’s fate. Tell them it’s a gift for helping with my songs.”
Astarion stares at the instrument. He runs the tips of his fingers against its familiar strings, taking note of indents he’s all too familiar with and the chips from months running in the wild. The last time he’d held it like this, it felt like it brought him closer to you. Now, it only feels like the cold dead wood it is.
“Were you looking for it?”
“No. Like I said, it must be fate.”
How cheesy.
His lips quirk downward even further, if that’s even possible, as he narrows in on a multitude of new dents and cracks in the wood. The lyre is yours, without a doubt, but it’s clearly seen a different level of care than what you would’ve given it even while fighting to the death. He glares at a particular blemish, and Alfira sighs.
“It’s seen better times, I know. But I’m sure they’d appreciate it even if it’s not how they left it.”
Wouldn’t you? No. He doesn’t know if you’d appreciate it. Why would you? You don’t even play the damn thing anymore, much less produce any music. He contemplates just tossing the object, but the second Alfira sees the glint of hesitation in his eyes, she pounces, shaking her head.
“Please,” she pleads. “Give it to them.”
His brows pinch.
And because he doesn’t want to entertain this tiefling any longer than he has to, and because he’d much rather get out of the sun and no other reason, he huffs. “Fine. I will.”
The smile she gives him doesn’t prompt him to do the same.
Months prior, he could see himself in the reflection of the gloss glazing over the wood. At least, that’s what he thinks because he could see your own expressions reflecting off it when you played it in the sun. It doesn’t hold a glow anymore, much less a reflection.
The lyre weighs heavily in his hands.
“I won’t pry,” Alfira says. “They never really told me what happened between the two of you…I respect your privacy, so I won’t ask. But whatever it was…I do hope it won’t happen again.”
It’s a weak one, but it’s a warning. He’s had plenty of those to figure it out.
“It won’t,” he mutters. 
He’ll be long gone before it can.
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Sleep is a luxury you can't afford nowadays.
Surely, the bags under your eyes are enough of an indication if it weren’t for the sluggishness of your every step. Still, you manage to offer your guest a lopsided smile out of respect. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, I’m alright. Thank you, though,” Yevir says, eyeing you up and down, obviously noting your disheveled state. “Is now not a good time?”
You shake your head, straightening your back against the dining room table with a cough. “It’s alright. I’m only tired. With the preparations for the celebration next week, I’m a bit overwhelmed. I was meaning to speak to you again anyway.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, but you can’t be bothered to deny your exhaustion further.
“You’ve been busy. I’ve seen the dead spawn that they retrieved from the Blushing Mermaid.”
Quite frankly, you feel terrible for the folk who own the place. A hag and then a horde of vampires in their basement in the span of a few months? You think it’d be a sign to close the tavern down.
Your tone remains grim. “Were any of them the woman you were looking for?”
He shakes his head, and a breath of relief escapes your lips. “No, she’s…I still haven’t found her.”
And maybe it’s the fatigue getting to your head, but your mouth moves before you can stop it. “You would think she’d try to meet someone she was so close to.”
It’s insensitive, and you wouldn’t blame him if he promptly stood to leave, but all he does is hang his head, dragging his hands over his face. He doesn’t seem like he’s gotten much rest recently, either. “Trust me, I’ve been wondering that for weeks now.”
“And have you come up with anything?”
“No. None. Zero. All I get are nightmares that I might get to one of my patrol shifts, and I’ll find her dead body lying on the ground somewhere,” he groans. “Well, deader body.”
“Maybe she’s afraid.”
“Of what? Me? Who in the hells would be afraid of me? Certainly not her, I must assure you. She’s always been stubborn, and she’s far more determined than myself, believe it or not.”
“Not you, but of herself. Vampire thirst surely can’t be so easy to control, and let’s be honest…” you point at your own neck, and the place where two puncture wounds should be on your wrist burns. “You’re practically a blood pot being offered to her.”
He frowns. “Is it so hard to control their thirst? I will admit that I don’t know much about vampire spawn aside from the obvious…”
You half snicker to yourself, almost in disbelief. “Believe me, they’re beasts when they’re ravenous.”
“Beasts?”
“Do you blame them? To them, blood is essentially liquid gold,” you shrug. “It tastes nothing like actual blood on their tongue. Sure, it might be a bit adjacent to drinking iron, but if they get their hands on prey, they really like…it tastes sweet to them. Would you deny a treat if you spent decades cooped up inside a dungeon cell, starving?"
Yevir’s face pales.
“See?”
His brows furrow as you sigh into your chair. “I’ve done my own share of research, but books seem to overexaggerate things most of the time…Can I ask how you know so much about them? Even if I manage to find her, I’d want to find some way to make her new life more tolerable…it’s not much, but it’s the least I could do.”
You blink.
Shit. You’ve said too much.
What are you supposed to say? You dated a vampire? Let him ravage you on the forest floor and spent months in his tent? That you kissed him just weeks prior, and he’s living just beside your own room? That he told you what your blood does to him, and reveal the bite marks on your skin?
You stand, your chair legs scraping against the ground.
“I have a book you might like. Let me grab it for you. And some tea, maybe,” you smile almost too widely. Fortunately for you, Yevir only nods.
“I’d appreciate it.”
You essentially grab whatever vampire-related book you have shoved under your bed and rush back downstairs to the kitchen. There isn’t much to learn from the thing with how much you already know, but you’re sure it must contain something that he might consider helpful. You know how horrible it felt to be kept in the dark about vampirism, even more so when you realized just how terrible the relationship between master and spawn tended to be…so a small push certainly wouldn’t hurt. Especially with Yevir's own problems with his beloved spawn. This is how you reassure yourself as you pour whatever tea Gale’s left on the stove into a cup.
If you were in Astarion’s shoes, you’d think becoming a spawn would have been the worst turning point of your life. And for a while, you thought he’d felt the same. A part of you thinks he does. But in the time you’ve spent with him and the stories he’s told you sparingly of his life before Cazador, your gut tells you differently. Especially when he’s drenched in the blood of your enemies, holding the immortality he’s long wished for with a sickening smile stretching on his lips. Guilt pools in your stomach for even bringing up the thought, but you can’t deny it, either.
You wonder if it hadn’t been for Cazador’s leash tying him down, he would’ve turned out differently. More twisted. That he would’ve indulged in the most corrupt parts of him as a magistrate. That maybe he wouldn’t have learned the value of a life. That he would’ve become more alike to him—the man he would’ve become if he’d ascended.
That small voice in your head is what stopped the ascension, for you feared he would lose everything he’d gained in his time as a spawn, no matter how trivial he believed it to be.
You hear the front door opening and snap out of your self-tangent. No use dwelling on it now. What’s done is done. No matter how strange the situation between you and the spawn is now, you’d rather have this than what could’ve happened if you hadn’t listened to your gut. You remain firm, no matter how much he hates you for it.
You pour Shadowheart an extra cup.
But as you step back into the living space, you realize the occupant doesn’t drink tea at all.
Astarion stands in the middle of the room, eyes wide as he stares at your guest with an undeniably bloody sack clutched in one hand. His large, red eyes seem glued to the ones of your guest, who stares back even more appalled as he takes one look at Astarion’s pale skin, the shade of his eyes, and the very bloody bag containing what you assume to be his dinner.
You drop the two cups onto the ground, tea splashing against your feet.
“You—Is he—” Yevir stumbles over his words, yet his instincts as a guard have him reaching for his weapon. “He’s—”
Astarion sneers, though his expression strains as Yevir’s hand reaches his sword. “Now, let’s not do anything that could ruin the wonderfully tasteful furniture in here...”
The Fist snaps his head in your direction. “He’s a spaw–!”
The back of a sword hilt hits the side of his head with an audible ‘thud,’ and he’s out like a light.
You stare at the unconscious body slouched over your dining table for a brief moment in utter shock before you gawk at the culprit. Of course. Lae’zel huffs, awfully pleased for someone who just caused a concussion to an innocent man. “Your soldiers are such children.”
Astarion barks a laugh, though it sounds more of a mix of disbelief and amusement.
You wish you could go one day in this house without another headache to add to the growing list.
Tags: @ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova @madislayyy @lordfishflakes @nicalysm @djarinsway @tinystarfishgalaxy @brainz00 @hopeful-n-sad @ohdeerieme @madisban @chrismarium @chonkercatto @fanfic-share @bitterbeanren @sleepyred1703 @miskouly @ravenswritingroom @iamlowkeycrying @deezus-roy @spiritraves @mariposakitten @dinobae-replyacc @whisperingwillowxox @bdudette @misscrissfemmefatale @atropapurpurea @cosywinterevenings @phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @marina-and-the-memes @kiwi-mansanas @woosaaghh @cminr @everybodystaycalm @divineknightmare @bangtanbecks @carolinelec @aelieknox @bluelovesleep @catching-fire-in-the-wind @moonlight-stay @thatbeanieboss @atotalmess-lol @lavender-romancer @roguishcat
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hangesbabymomma · 2 months
Text
₊˚⊹🚿 All Night
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warnings/content - use of pet names (mama, lovely), shower sex, p in v, unprotective sex (please wrap it before whomp whomping🙏🏽), rough-ish (not really) sex, gojo eating you out // pairing - gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary - you and gojo having your usual passionate time in the shower but gojo can’t get enough of you
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You and Gojo have been going at it in the shower for a while now. Usually you’d be complaining about how long it’s been but at this point you’re too fucked out to care.
“C’mon mama, we’re almost done just a little more…” Gojo huffed in your ear before speeding up his thrusting. One hand was gripping on Gojo’s hair with the other on his shoulder, the mix of the warm shower water and the passionate love making the pleasure too much to handle, Your moaning increasing as you felt Gojo abuse your sloppy cunt.
“Wai- wait Gojo! auh.. slow downnn!” You whined out but your pleads fell on deaf ears as Gojo’s cock continued to ram into you.
“Feels s’good and warm.. Fuck, you’re driving me crazy…” Gojo groaned before kissing your neck. You felt like you were seeing stars at this point. The way Gojo spoke to you, the pace he was fucking you in, the kisses he planted all over your neck, you felt like you were in complete heaven.
“I’m close..“ You moaned out, the grip you had on your boyfriend’s shoulder increased, your legs feeling like they were gonna give in any second.
“Yeah?” Gojo smirked at your fucked out expression before ramming into you in a harsh way again. You let out more lewd noises as your back arched off the shower wall, a mix of you and Gojo’s cum flowing out and dripping down on the shower floor.
“Let me clean that for you,” Gojo whispered before getting on his knees and licking at the mess both of you made, his tongue licking in between your soft folds. You moan, feeling your legs start to tremble and shake again due to the pure ecstasy you were getting. Gojo then started to flick his tongue around your clit, you letting out soft gasps and moans as a result.
“Tastes so fuckin’ good.. need more of this pussy,” He spoke into your crotch, the vibration of his voice against your clit sending you to cloud 9. Just as you know it, you felt yourself wanting to cum for a second time.
“Baby m’ cumming again..” You moaned out, your hands tangled in Gojo’s wet, white locks as he continued to lap at your juices.
“Go ahead, cum for me lovely.” Gojo started to move his tongue a bit faster than before, his blue eyes looking directly up at you to admire his work. Soon, you felt your climax reaching its peak. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let out soft gasps, cumming all over Gojo’s face and in his mouth.
——————
After you both got cleaned up and dried off, you both laid down in bed with Gojo resting his head on your chest. You picked up your phone, your eyes widening in surprise when you realized it was midnight already. You look down at Gojo, who’s already fast asleep with his arms wrapped around your waist. You took a deep breath before wrapping your arms around Gojo, the feeling of tiredness finally taking over as you fell asleep in each other’s arms.
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a/n: first smut post lowkey kinda hate this but it’s whatever 😭 just a lil something before my creativity runs out again LMAO
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thegnomelord · 4 months
Note
Sorry for blowing up your inbox, but you've really got my creative juices flowing. So I want to expand on 2 ideas.
No. 1
Shrike Harpy Reader w/ oblivious Graves (bc from my knowledge, he's usually a vampire or regular guy) or Ghost (bc he was human before)
In which Shrike reader is getting progressively more obvious with their advances bc Ghost/Graves don't understand. The particular idea I had was where they think it's some kind of threat or prank. So reader is getting more obvious, and they think that the threat/prank is getting more intense.
That would be hilarious! Obviously, they will either find out or be told about the advances eventually. But the idea that you are courting them and they miss the mark entirely is so funny to me. Especially if their teammates laugh and refuse to tell them the obvious truth.
No. 2
Going off of the spider's sexual dimorphism + a different version of monster au. Pairing spider hybrid reader w/ octopus (cthulhu?) König (if you do reqs for him), where spider reader looks at him and is like:
So you're telling me there's an eight-legged hybrid, approximately five times my size, that could snap my spine like a toothpick, just beyond enemy lines.... Do you need someone to volunteer for a solo recon mission any time soon?
Oh no! My recon mission turned into a hostage situation, how unfortunate. But while I'm here, I should interrogate him... yeah, interrogating is exactly what I'll be doing with this giant tied up man rn....
👑 anon
No, no, anon I'm always so happy reading all the stuff you guys send me! I know next to nothing about Konig except the stuff I've read about him that turns him into a really perverted disgusting degenerate and while I'm not comfortable writing that, I hope one of my mutes picks it up bc it is super cool! I got a dancing with Ghost ask I really wanna do so Graves it is lol
CW:SWF-ish turns suggestive at the end, Graves being oblivious
Graves hates being the butt of the joke.
For the last couple of months he's been getting 'gifts' in the form of chunks of meat stabbed through various knives. It had started a knife being stabbed through burgers and steaks(typical American food), which he couldn't eat, but slowly progressed to rarer and rarer pieces of meat until he wound up finding just raw and bloody chunks of meat; a leg of some large animal turned into a pincushion, a still beating heart stabbed through with a knife, livers shish kebabed on a bayoneted blade. . .
And he'd find them everywhere, in the communal fridge, in his office, in his room. And while he didn't mind the free meal, he was a little unnerved. He knew it was you doing it because he had screened the minds of all his shadow's, but he didn't know why you were doing it.
He can see the way his shadows smirk at you when he finds another bloody organ skewered on your favorited knife in the fridge, your feathers puffing up and a not so quiet chirp escaping your lips when he sneaks the meat away to feast on.
You also become more touchy with him when you notice him accepting your gifts, though he has no idea of it. He trusts you, which is why you're allowed to sneak up on him, your wings spreading out to wrap around him like a cloak as you chirp a "Hello commander."
It makes him jump out of his skin, and though he chastises you about it, it's never as harsh as he could make it, his shadows giving him a knowing look that he can't reciprocate.
That's the worst part. None of his shadows will tell him anything.
He doesn't know much about your species of harpy except for the generalized knowledge of extreme speed and craftiness, so he can't figure out if this is some kind of joke, or threat, or you just seeing him as part of the flock? Or maybe it means nothing? He's especially confused when you grow bolder and one day he walks into his office to see a Bison leg sitting on his desk, once again skewered. Where did you even get the bloody bison? Hell knows but certainly not him.
Eventually a shadow grows annoyed by your constant bloody gifts in the fridge and with a very annoyed huff drops a harpy encyclopedia on his desk.
He'll need to get them a gift basket after this; he spends the next few hours just reading about all kinds of harpies, ears progressively getting hotter as the book delves deep into every aspect of the harpies, each sub-race's specific courting and matting habit and making him feel like he's reading porn.
Then he finds a chapter about your type of harpy, eyes growing wide like dinnerplates as he reads about your quirks. He doesn't know whether to go search for a cross or tissues. He reads more and more, turning pages upon pages, his eyes scorching every anatomical picture into his brain and making him think of what you're packing, his pants growing tight as the minutes tick down.
Just his luck that you'd decided the moment when his face is the hottest to walk into his office without knocking, another skewered offering on a plate in your hands.
"Christ!" He yelps, slamming the book shut and looking at you like you're his parent and caught him looking at a playboy magazine.
You puff up in surprise, your wings spreading out a bit before flattening back to your back, a soothing chirp leaving your lips. It used to mean nothing to him, now he knows what it means, his cock getting a bit harder in his pants.
"You alright commander?" You ask, walking closer, the talons of your feet clicking against the ground.
"Yes, yep, perfectly fine." He grunts, desperately hoping his vampiric state will suppress the heat in his face, but to no avail. "You-" His eyes settle on the plate in your hands, his body practically conditioned to salivate when he sees a familiar knife sticking out of the food.
"I?" You ask, then you note the book on his desk, your head tilting in confusion. "Graves?"
He swallows, eyes darting from the food to you, and he doesn't know which one he's starved for more. "You've been wooing me like a dolly huh?" He asks.
"Yeah." You're unsure of what else to say, in your head, had he not wanted your advances he would have never taken your offerings. Then you realize. "Don't tell me you just noticed." You deadpan.
Graves gives that awkward chuckle you've grown to love, and you decide you need to be bolder. You place the plate on his desk and lean over it, a coo rumbling in your chest— deeper, rougher, seductive.
"How about I show you what I want?"
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viviennevermillion · 7 months
Text
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late night snack
✧ synopsis: you find your hungry captain in the ship's kitchen at 1am. you decide to have mercy on him and make him a meal.
✧ contains: luffy x gn!reader, ambiguous relationship (bc honestly luffy is so aroace-coded to me), cuddles, cooking as a bonding experience, 2.1k words
✧ now playing: johnny boy (instrumental) — santiano
✧ warnings: none
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"Luffy, I'm almost too afraid to ask, but what exactly is it you're trying to do?"
It was the dead of the night and you originally just planned to make a quick trip to the kitchen and back for a glass of juice. After all, everyone was already sleeping and there were no disturbances in sight. Considering the plethora of instances that had you running away from marines or getting into fights with other pirates, that was a blessing to be fully taken advantage off. So you were looking forward to let the swaying of the ship on the waves lull you back into the land of dreams and find solace in the soft sound of light rain meeting the Going Merry.
But you found that when you entered the kitchen, you were not alone. And wherever your captain was, adventure was never far behind. This time "adventure" came in the form of a fire hazard frying pan with food in it taped to the kitchen wall with Luffy's rubber arm holding onto the wooden spoon. Luffy himself was standing on the other side of the room, his arm stretched all the way across the kitchen.
"Oh hi!", he exclaimed, happy to see you, then started to explain his current predicament, "well you see, Sanji refused to make me some food because it is 1am and I said 'Sanji, please' and he groaned 'make it yourself'. So I thought 'hey, that's actually not a bad idea!'"
"I don't like where this is going, but go on", you let out a sigh but could hardly be mad at him for the chaos he had caused in the kitchen, given the way he was looking at you with such a pure smile. "So, given that this was my first time cooking anything, my first attempt didn't work out as I intended to", he continued, "so I wanted to clean up the kitchen so Sanji wouldn't get mad, but you see, the spoon got stuck to the frying pan and I can't remove it even with my devil fruit powers." He still looked so carefree explaining this, that you couldn't help but envy him for his seemingly complete lack of stress and anxiety.
You stepped closer to the pan to see how he managed to get the wooden spoon stuck on it. You looked back and forth between the pan and your smiling captain, blinking in disbelief a couple of times. "I really don't get what I did wrong, I did exactly what the cookbook said", Luffy went on, "it said caramelize the onions-"
You stopped him right there, gesturing to the frying pan. "So let me just confirm this: you threw a whole fish and three whole onions into the pan and put caramel on it... and from the looks of it mozzarella?" Luffy nodded. "Sanji always said that being a chef also means you can be creative with the food you make and I thought that sounded really fun!", he stemmed his hands into his hips. "You look way too proud of this", you raised an eyebrow with concern written on your face, sending a silent prayer to whatever was out there to hear you. Keep my captain safe, never let him near a stove unsupervised.
You gently removed his fist from the spoon, hearing his rubber arm snap back to its natural length. "You're lucky you're cute...", you sighed and removed the pan from the wall, putting it aside with a slightly painful smile on your face, "this is a Sanji problem."
Even though you had a soft spot for him, or perhaps especially because of it, you felt the need to remind Luffy of the dangers of cooking with 0 experience. "Please be more careful next time... you could have caused a fire on the ship", you turned around to speak to him only to find he was no longer where he had been standing just seconds ago. You looked around the room and found him rummaging through the fridge again. "I'm still hungry", he pouted. You could even hear his stomach growling. For the sake of him and everyone else you decided it was better to not let him go to bed hungry and risk waking up to the final inferno that would annihilate all seas.
"If I make you something, will you help me prepare the ingredients and clean up the kitchen?", you sighed but you looked up in surprise when you found Luffy in your embrace, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug and pressing his cheek to your shoulder. "Yes, thank you, you're the best!", he exclaimed and you couldn't help but smile, wrapping your arms around your captain as well and running your fingers through his soft hair. His hug felt warm and comforting and you almost didn't want to let go yet, but reminded yourself that you had promised to make him some food.
So you went over to the fridge and the pile of ingredients that Luffy had already dragged out of it and checked what you could make with the stuff you had. "I suppose I could make some wraps", you reasoned and started organizing the ingredients. "Ooh, fill mine with lots of meat please!", Luffy was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rocking back and forth with excitement. "Sure thing", you smiled back at him and tossed him the salad. "Can you wash this and cut a few leaves of it into small stripes?", you asked and Luffy nodded, getting up from the floor, seemingly lost in thought.
"Right... it needs to be washed", he repeated slowly as if this had been a major enlightenment to him. "Good lord...", you whispered with wide eyes, shaking your head at the mental image of what could have happened if you hadn't prevented him from making another 'Luffy original'. "Also, I noticed the oil was still in the cupboard, did you not use it when you tried to fry your fish?", you asked out of curiosity. Luffy shrugged. "I didn't know you had to put oil, I thought any liquid worked." You took a deep breath. "What did you put?" "Ketchup."
Despite everything, Luffy did a pretty good job following your instructions; after all, he had properly cut the salad, tomatoes and pulled the ground beef apart. "Cutting vegetables is harder than I thought", you just heard him mumble and turned around to find him staring at you with helplessness in his eyes, holding up his bleeding pointer finger.
"Yeah that's my fault, I should have seen that coming...", you sighed and opened a kitchen drawer to pull out the bandaids. "There you go", you said after putting the bandaid on Luffy's finger. He looked down at his finger, now covered in a black bandaid with a pirate skull on it and you just quietly heard him mumble something about a 'battle scar'.
"Sunshine, I think the tomato clearly won that one", you raised an eyebrow, preparing the meat for the wraps on the stove. "There'll be a rematch", Luffy informed you in a motivated tone. "Sure, tell that to Sanji tomorrow, I'm sure he's going to think that's a splendid idea", you chuckled. "Yeah, I will!", Luffy smiled at you. You laughed and went on to show Luffy how to prepare the beef.
He looked over your shoulder with his chin rested on it, watching what you did closely. He seemed curious and fascinated by how different cooking worked from what he originally thought. You leaned your head against his and heard him yawn. Luffy wrapped his arms around you again, nuzzling your neck with his eyes closed. "Hey, don't go falling asleep on me now, you don't want to miss your meal right?", you reminded him and he yawned again, nodding. "Don't worry, 'm awake", he mumbled with a tired voice.
Having him cling to you like this, peacefully resting on your shoulder, made you almost disappointed when the meat was finally done.
"This is great!", Luffy exclaimed with his mouth stuffed full of food after you had handed him two wraps, "thank you so much for the food!" You quietly enjoyed your own wrap, smiling at the situation. Luffy had a way of making every encounter the two of you had one without regrets, even if it involved cooking at 1am. As long as he was happy, you were content.
After finishing your late night snack, both of you decided it was time for a small break so you settled down on the couch, holding Luffy in your arms. You were laying on your back, your head propped up by a pillow, while your captain was resting on your chest with a satisfied smile on his face. He looks so cute, you thought, playing with his hair.
Luffy let out another yawn and you soon noticed he was drifting off to sleep. He looked so peaceful sleeping in your embrace and you cupped his cheek gently, pressing a soft goodnight kiss to his forehead. This was the night you found out that Luffy was a sleep-talker. "...Meat", he'd mumble and you smiled, deciding it would be cruel to get up now to wash the dishes and risk waking him up. Maybe you'd manage to get up in the morning before Sanji would wake up. This is worth it, Sanji will understand, you reasoned with yourself with perhaps a little too much optimism, something you suspected may have rubbed off on you from Luffy.
"Back in Windmill Village, they considered me a meat philosopher", Luffy mumbled in his sleep and it took you two minutes to suppress a laugh.
This man is an experience, you bit your lip to hold back your wheezing, burying your face in your hands. You just had to ask him to elaborate on this once he'd wake up. You shook your head with a bright smile on your face. Your fingers started gently drawing circles on Luffy's back, causing him to try and snuggle even closer in his sleep. Once you had recovered from your captain's sleep-talking endeavors, tiredness soon caught up to you and you drifted off to sleep, still holding onto Luffy. It was a peaceful night indeed.
But the peace was never meant to last. Once the sun had risen, you wake up to an angry "Luffy!" echoing through the kitchen. Luffy's eyes fluttered open and he promptly sat up. "Oh, good morning Sanji", he called out with a happy expression, stretching his limbs. Your ship's cook had a threatening smile on his face. "Don't 'good morning Sanji' me, what the fuck did you two do to my kitchen?"
"I helped y/n make food", Luffy explained, proud of his contribution. "I can see that", Sanji grabbed the caramel abomination from the kitchen counter and held it up, "this pan is literally ruined." You sat up as well and raised your hands. "In my defense, this was all his doing. I wasn't here to prevent this."
Luffy looked at you from the side. "Ratting me out like this... I thought we were in this together", he pouted and rested his chin on his knees. "Nuh-uh", you shook your head, "I'm not taking responsibility for Satan's first edible plague... then again I don't think you can even call this edible." "Technically almost everything is edible", Luffy gave you a thumbs-up.
"Dishes. Now."
You got up very fast after discovering that Sanji was not messing around. That was the day you two got sentenced to dish-washing duty for the next 3 weeks. Originally it was supposed to be one week, but you may or may not have gotten into a foam fight with Luffy, leaving the kitchen in an even bigger mess.
"This reminds me of my job at Baratie. Good times", Luffy was reminiscing. "You didn't have 'a job', you had to do the dishes because you couldn't pay for what looked like your last supper", you reminded him. "And I only broke 5 of them", he proudly informed you.
You couldn't help but laugh, Luffy joining in not soon after. You were once again reminded why you would never regret joining this crew. If someone could make even washing dishes fun and make you happy like this, you'd be damned to not keep him in your life. Luffy was like the sun, brightening up each day since you had met him; even the darkest of them. He looked up and caught you smiling at him from the side.
"What's the matter?", he asked, smiling back.
"Just thinking about how happy I am to have met you."
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saiidahyunie · 12 days
Text
you in my heart 
chou tzuyu x f!reader 
synopsis: if i can keep myself close to cherish you, then my heart will forever be in your hands. 
warnings: fluff ; angst ? ; friends to lovers ; clc elkie and sana appear!
a/n: this fic is my creative writing lifeline soooooo :P
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chou tzuyu doesn’t like idiots. 
in the many years of her glorious friendship with you, tzuyu has watched, in all scopes, just how damn impatient you were about your decisions. she’s seen it all - whether it’s simply put in which you threw caution to the wind and helped tzuyu ditch school just for a quick detour to the beach as a way to cheer her up after the argument she had with her parents. 
(might to add, that happened in the one week of getting to know each other.) 
or, whether it would be the way tzuyu saw you drawing, once and decided that the route of art was the destination. better yet, the slight hitch of breath of your decision - last second- of moving in with tzuyu, on the day her lease was up for renewal. 
these many things between the fine lines of dumb and stupid could not have prepared tzuyu for this: 
you being settled on the floor with a dark red shirt that had a white minimal graphic with the name of the brand being something from your dad’s work, hair set off neatly off to the side with a hint of fringe peaking at the top, an apple juice box in your hands washing down the ritz crackers you swiped from the box, without knowing how it fans the flames in every one of tzuyu’s nerves. 
you look at tzuyu, holding your gaze, jaw moving with two chewed crackers in your mouth, before averting your eyes to the crushed juice box next to you. 
“tzuyu,” you say, fingers fast on the wrapper fishing out another cracker. “you’re not gonna eat?” 
tzuyu says nothing, only shaking her head before settling back against the leg of the sofa, crossing her arms against her chest. 
“tzuyu,” you whine, grabbing her wrist that had pinches of salt all over your fingertips, “why are you not saying anything?” 
as if tzuyu can ever ignore the constant pull that she feels towards you. 
“what’s going on?” tzuyu asks you now, knowing that nothing positive ever comes out of your mouth when she’s soaking in this tone that you’re presenting, voice breaking high and towards the end, as though you wouldn’t be able to breath right if tzuyu does not talk to you, or look at you. 
“you’re a girl right?” 
tzuyu blinks once, doe eyes out in the open space while she’s unable to guess the trajectory that this conversation might go. 
“yes, and?” 
you smile, bright and warm, tzuyu nudges closer until her knee touches your thigh. 
“cool! me too!” you say. “well, i don’t know, actually. but, the point is that i’ve never dated a girl before. have you?” 
tzuyu’s sexuality has been acknowledged, conveyed, and accepted between the both of you without any real sense of words. you had always been perceptive, and when tzuyu’s eyes wandered on only at he women in the movies that she used to watch together with you during high school, you knew that your best friend was a lesbian, and squeezed her hand firmly to let her know that. 
it was never really discussed after that, until now. 
your sexuality, in tandem, has been acknowledged, conveyed, and accepted between the both of you devidating your realization through a sudden urge to declare the moment out loud on a random day. you tumbled your way onto tzuyu a week ago, holding her hands tight, screaming about how you barely realized that you were bisexual and how “everything makes so much sense to me!” 
ever since that day, tzuyu had to witness the only person she has loved even before she knew how to love someone else flirting with nearly everyone. she could only be supportive of her best friend’s journey up til this point. 
“i haven’t,” tzuyu replies. 
your face lights up, eyebrows arched and eyes wide open. “well, have you kissed another girl before?” 
tzuyu suddenly feels like she is neck deep in water that she’s not used to swimming in, struggling to keep herself afloat in her mind. “i…have.” 
your face beams more brighter than before it diminishes into the stark emptiness of the night after the flames on a bonfire slowly wither away. “hey,” you say. “you didn’t tell me about that, tzu! we’re besties, aren’t you supposed to tell me everything?” 
tzuyu scoots herself over to put a hand on your shoulder. “it was a long time ago,” she says. the world of sapphism was something beautiful to be apart of. seeing the pride parties to be an enlightenment of sorts while also pulling the heart in a more wrenching way. she wanted to belong there with the vast crowd of people but was also aware that she doesn’t want to put herself into that space, if it meant leaving your side. 
“it doesn’t really matter now.” 
“hey.” you say, scooting closer to match her. tzuyu’s hand lingers on your shoulder before letting go. “of course, it does. was it any good?” 
tzuyu doesn’t recall much from those separate experiences, let alone want to remember any from long ago. “yes, i think so. but it was like years since then, so it doesn’t matter.” 
“what makes you say that? why did you stop yourself? are you going to be kissing girls when we go to that pride party next week?” 
“i told you, y/n. it doesn’t matter. why are you even asking about this?” 
you have another smile spread across, hands moving up and down tzuyu’s arm, causing a ripple effect of goosebumps rising on the crook of her neck. “i have something to ask you.” 
when you pull your hands away, picking a cracker from the new stack you just opened, holding against tzuyu’s lips. 
when tzuyu makes no move to open her mouth, your encourage her by nodding despite becoming more and more doting and impatient (which was on brand for your antics). 
tzuyu merely holds it against her teeth, unwilling to take a bit nor choke on the bit after your request. 
you take a deep breath, and twine your hands with hers, looking into her eyes steadily. 
“i want you to kiss me.” 
these several plus years of friendship that tzuyu will never get enough of, tired was also out of the question. nothing could’ve prepared her for the opportunity of hearing those words that deeply carve out one of the core instincts that she has been fighting to keep within. 
the cracker falls out of tzuyu’s mouth.
you, on the other hand, face full of optimism and hope immediately replaced with frowns from the fallen cracker sitting on tzuyu’s lap, picking it up. your fingers brush against her hip bone, and tzuyu suppresses a gasp. 
also, you’re oblivious to tzuyu’s inner crisis, looking at the cracker before biting it, in the same spot more than a third of the cracker is caught between your teeth. 
“what are you saying?” 
“i want you to kiss me.” you say, seriously, after chewing the last part of the cracker that will haunt tzuyu’s dreams for the coming decades. 
“why?” 
“do people need a reason to kiss each other, tzuyu?” 
“when the people in the problem set are one’s best friends, then of course.” 
you sigh, troubled. “fine,” you say, not willing to look up from where you fidget with the ripped wrapper of the cracker stack. “you got me. i have a date with a girl this weekend and i have never kissed a girl, ever. i want it to be good for her. you’ve kissed a girl, and i want you to assess me.” 
“assess you?” 
nodding to tzuyu’s question. “i want it to be good for her, tzu! besides, you’re one of the few people that i trust the most. i want you to kiss me and tell me how it is. now are you gonna help me?” 
a few seconds of silence pass that the weight of it envelops every fabric and cell of their being, you begin to fiddle with the hem of your shirt, a habit that you procured in times of nervousness. 
“forget it,” you say abruptly. “i know that sana has kissed girls before. i’ll ask her—” 
“no!”
“no?” 
“no,” tzuyu says, holding your face between her soft hands. “i’ll do it,” she says. “i’ll help you with this.” 
you taste like a wintergreen mint. 
tzuyu tilts her head up, one hand spread across the back of your neck, the other, holding your chin so that she can deepen the kiss, until tzuyu herself begins to taste the minty aroma and feel like stardust. 
tzuyu also should’ve been keeping an open ear to the cautionary tune her heart laid out in front of her. her mind should’ve also said the same thing the way her brain racked the sole idea of kissing you for practice. nothing good would come out of this. you will kiss another girl sometime this weekend and many other girls after that, but tzuyu is weak and in love and can’t fathom not kissing you, not when you asked it yourself. 
your arms are coiled around tzuyu’s long neck, pulling her closer than ever before, even though the meters between the two of you now are only separated by the thin layers of clothes. gently trailing her fingers from your chin to your neck and waist, tzuyu hauls you up until you settle on her lap. 
the both of you break apart for a second, your eyes with a glint to them, dazed, glossy pink lips still parted, bodies molding together oh-so perfectly. 
it was you who kissed tzuyu for the first time, so tzuyu takes it upon herself to press your forehead with hers, chasing your lips for more. the kiss itself is less frantic and more gentle, taking her time skimming her hands across your back, tilting your head towards her, trailing your hands every single spot possible in the hopes of grasping something. eventually, you fingers are in her hair, taking apart the ponytail and running your fingers through it again. 
love me, tzuyu mouths out while she kisses you. love me, only me, no one else, just me. 
tzuyu’s lips find your jaw, feathery kisses until she meets the fork where your ear and neck meet. you let out a small noise from the bottom of your throat and tzuyu wants to have it all, to revel in it, keep it close to herself in her heart for the eons of years to pass. she finds her way to your neck, and the idea of marking you, to show the mystery girl that you’ll see know that she was here first, and with the premonition that she’ll stay with you forever–
under the crook of your neck, in the palms of your hands, hooked on your ribs as if the set numbers were like lifelines; anywhere, wherever you see fit. 
when you two finally break apart this time, you open your eyes, blinking rapidly to erase the remnants of the daze that was clouding the both of you, smiling softly that tzuyu thinks she’s in a dream. although, it wouldn’t be the first time that she’s dreamt something dangerously real, can’t accept the facts. 
but your body is warm between tzuyu’s palms, floral scent draping all of her sense. you were as real as you can be. tzuyu feels nervous with the pricks
of sweat coating her neck, heart rate struggling to keep calm inside her chest, threatening to break free from the cages. 
in her dreams, your eyes wouldn’t suddenly widen in disbelief, you wouldn’t clutch onto tzuyu’s shoulders, not willing to meet tzuyu’s eyes after that. 
a block forms, tugging from the depths of tzuyu’s chest. 
“y/n,” tzuyu asks, voice horse. “did i go too far?” 
you snap your eyes towards tzuyu, in fact not meeting her eyes, rapidly shaking your head. “no, not at all.” you answer, tone shrill. “but a–, that was—was really good.” 
finally meeting tzuyu’s eyes, your face swept in a vibrant pink. 
“that was?” 
you, in a flurry of sudden actions, pat tzuyu’s hair to flatten it, pinching her cheek, before breaking apart the bubble of a minty fulfilled dream that just happened a few seconds ago. “is that even a question?” you ask, licking your lips. “kissing girls is so different from kissing boys,” you say. “i liked this a lot. was it, um, w-was it good for you?” 
“what are you talking about?” tzuyu laughs, seeing a smile on your face. “you’re a good kisses,” she says, trying to be as objective as she can. this was a test, an experiment after all. not an outcry of feelings. “you know what you’re doing, so it won’t be bad for you this weekend when you go. i’m sure of that.” 
standing up, you pat down your shirt and sweatpants, saying, “okay good, i’m—i’m happy that it was good for you because it was good for me, clearly, and i–shoot—i should probably—” 
you don’t spare tzuyu another glance, running off to your room, the slam of the door echoed through the walls. 
tzuyu just sits there, back against the leg of the sofa, the half-eaten stack of crackers and empty glasses of water on the table, enthralling her attention as if they were people who just witnessed something out in public. her head hits the cushion behind her, clenching the scream wanting to be unleashed from inside her. 
for the reminder of how reality works in this world, things will–not remain the same between her and you. the air was already heavy with tension, anchored with tzuyu’s feeling, suspended in time with the words captive in the nooks and cracks of her body. 
tzuyu will have to learn how to live with the knowledge of how you taste, the small noises you make, the way your face shapes when her mouth is on yours, eyes closed as you chase tzuyu’s mouth like it was the last thing you had to do. 
she doesn’t know how to recover from this information. 
the two of you don’t talk about it. 
few days pass, and tzuyu leaves her pottery class. you arrive a few hours after you were sure that tzuyu was asleep. 
(she wasn’t asleep. in fact, she was waiting for you to come home. only able to fully rest when the sound of the door opening and closing, the soft sounds of your feet hitting the wood in and around the house.)
you and tzuyu have a thursday class together in music theory, sharing a shaken look between each other when the paths cross to the living room.
“you wanna leave together?” you ask, strangely nervous with a pensive look on your face. 
tzuyu nods her head, and that was it. 
you two don’t talk about it still, because there’s nothing to be discussed. 
after dinner, tzuyu finds herself going along to being kissed by you again. more practice never hurt anybody, or anyone for that matter. 
tzuyu slides in her bed with a heavy heat, lips aflame with the phantom stir of yours on them. 
it’s okay, she thinks. it’s gonna be okay. i’ll be okay. 
“you’re leaving?” tzuyu asks you on saturday, realizing in a manner that your date was today. a date, the whole reason you kissed tzuyu. 
you look dashing, transcendent beyond existence. tzuyu loves you so much. 
nervously, you start messing with the flimsy fabric of your dress pants, “i am,” you say, “did you want something?” 
“no,” tzuyu lies, heart clogging her throat. 
you take a step closer, breaking the bubble around tzuyu. “did you want to say something?” 
“no,” tzuyu lies again, heart in her hands. 
“okay then.” you say, “i’ll be going now.” 
“okay.” tzuyu replies. “have fun on your date.” 
something omniscient falls over the ever-constant glow on your face. “i will, i’m sure of it.” 
tzuyu feels her pulse accelerate, hands clenching and unclenching in succession. there’s so much that she wants to blurt out. so much that will ruin the close friendship that she has with you. but being selfish isn’t the way to go, the risk that is carried by making her feelings your problems too. 
it’ll be fine, tzuyu tells herself. this will pass too. she’s fine, she’s okay, she’s breathing—and if she keeps beating it down her being, maybe her heart won’t feel like it’s being trampled on. 
everything will be okay, this will all work out in the end. 
“something is wrong,” sana begins, eating her french fry, the same evening when she invites herself to tzuyu’s home with a bag of food and snacks. “you’re not okay.” 
“everything is great!” tzuyu says, chasing down her words with half of a boba drink. “and, i am okay.” 
sana’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “it’s not really you to lie in front of my face.” 
“i need you to stop prying.” 
“is it because y/n’s on that date right now?” 
“sana, i’m fine.” 
“shut up, it is, isn’t it?!”
“sana!”
“okay, i’ll stop,” sana says, raising her hands in surrender. “i believe you. everything is okay and you are doing fine.” 
you don’t offer more information about your date other than just saying, “we should go watch that one movie together, tzuyu.” 
tzuyu doesn’t even bother asking either. 
two days after, you come bearing another tempting proposition that steals tzuyu’s breath away—literally. 
“that one barista from the cafe we regularly go to asked me out,” you say, already straddling tzuyu’s lap. “i didn’t kiss that girl from saturday and i think i’m a little iffy about my–technique. can you help me with it again?”
tzuyu tears down the banners of doubts in her mind, providing her mouth pressing against yours, feeling like the can finally breath now after not being able to for so long. 
she doesn’t bother asking you about it, again. 
more and more kisses are being shared in the days leading up to your date. always in the evening, an hour before going to bed.
tzuyu finds out all the different ways in which you like being kissed. even though an unspoken boundary between them is crossed past the point of rational thinking. she finds herself putting up a boundary before it becomes all too much, too fast. like her soul feels like it’s being robbed of once those walls are up, but it’s okay. 
tzuyu tells herself that it’s okay. she will live through this. 
she’s fine, and everything’s gonna be okay. 
when you come back from the date, drunk, the sleep is immediately left from tzuyu’s body, and she’s alert, awake on the sofa. she puts her book and the small blanket back in their places, walking over to help you remove your shoes and find your way back into the house.
you look at tzuyu with a blearily smile, holding onto her waist tightly. “hi,” you say, grinning. 
“hi,” tzuyu greets back, holding onto you as you’re sliding on the floor, head lolling back on the head of the sofa. “are you alright?” 
“amazing!” you answer, giddy. 
“how was your date?” 
tzuyu blinks one eye open, grinning sarcastically. “oh? you didn’t ask me how it went the last time. this is a sign.” 
“you didn’t tell me anything either,” tzuyu also points out. 
you sigh, slumping your head on tzuyu’s toned shoulder. “true,” you mumble. “i guess it was okay.” 
“just okay?” 
tzuyu feels you nodding your head. “i am so tired, tzu!” you whine, nudging your head closer. tzuyu suppresses a shudder as she feels your eyelids fluter closed against her neck. “i’m gonna fall asleep right here, okay?” 
“that’s okay,” tzuyu says, pressing her fingertips into your scalp, just the way that you like it. 
“you’re the best,” you mumble again, sounding half-asleep. “do you know that? you’re the very best, tzu.” 
tzuyu doesn’t know how to respond without revealing the very depth of everything she feels about you. 
“i guess,” your whisper is like a knife through the curtain of silence between the two of you. “i guess the problem is that no one is you. they don’t kiss the way that you do.” 
tzuyu’s heart stops. “y/n, what do you mean?” 
“y/n?” 
a lack of a reply prompts tzuyu to thread her fingers through your hair, gently tapping your shoulder. “y/n.” she softly calls. “don’t you know to not say things like this to me?” she whispers too, confident that you were asleep. your breath steady, head heavy. 
you mumble something closely incoherent, and your head sags into tzuyu’s chest. 
despite the tumultuous beat of her heart, tzuyu finds herself smiling, as she cradles your head, hoping that laying on her lap would be more comfortable for you, and drapes the blanket over your legs. 
“that’s the issue with me, too.” tzuyu says while palming your hair. “i guess i stopped kissing other people because they weren’t you. i wish i could stop looking for you in every person that i meet.” 
it’s not like tzuyu was not aware of the happy hour event that’s regularly held at that one bar that the friend group usually ends up in at a night like this, but it’s just that she didn’t care enough about it, especially after living for about three months in a new city. 
two days after you realized that you were bisexual, you looked at the poster that announced the party for the lgbtq community happening on a friday night well off into the new semester with a newfound excitement. “we should go here!” you shrieked while pointing at the poster. “i didn’t even know that this was a thing.” 
“it’s a thing alright,” tzuyu answers, resigning herself to the fate of ending up at that party, especially a few weeks before happening. 
“have you ever been to a party like this?” 
“not a lot, but a few.” tzuyu replies. “they’re interesting.” and unfamiliar, because they’re loud and crowded. the heavy bass of music blasting through the speakers, making her heart match to the beat of the rhythm. 
“well, you should show me around then!” you had said, and that was it. 
now, about a little over three weeks or so after tzuyu first made out with her best friend only to help you practice for dates with people that weren’t tzuyu, standing in front of the said best friend, trying to obviously leer at your appearance. 
you were wearing a white crop top shirt with ripped jeans layered with a black leather jacket. this outfit in particular had been printed in tzuyu’s brain since she saw you wear it for the first time—and a one piece dress
you catch tzuyu looking and wink. “what? i look good, don’t i?” 
‘good’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, but tzuyu nods, nonetheless. 
bounding up with tzuyu, arms interlocked together. “thank you!” you exclaim. “you have to look great too! when did you buy this blouse?” you ask, gesturing at tzuyu’s outfit. “i have to borrow it one day,” you say, as you make your way outside the house, head resting on tzuyu’s shoulder.
“okay,” tzuyu readily agrees despite it being her favorite blouse and your tendency to not return her clothes after ‘borrowing’ them. 
the club is crowded by the time you reach there—full of people that tzuyu recognizes the way gay people tend to recognize each other across the campus, and those she does not. 
your face is set with an ever-present grin, taking in the clamour and infecting excitement of energy that’s radiating of all the people here. all eyes were on you and you just seem to bask in it, but your eyes were on tzuyu. there’s a low glo to you. the only person glowing in a sea of people. tzuyu is so in love with you that it aches, it aches, and it aches. 
“let’s dance!” you yell over the sound of the booming music. 
tzuyu is pulled into your arms the minute she agrees to it. sinking into your arms as though she always belonged there should be weird, tzuyu thinks. it’s supposed to be weird, especially because you and her couldn’t even look at each other until a few days ago, until you came back home drunk and slept on tzuyu’s lap. 
but it isn’t. this feels as natural as breathing, normal like your heart beating, the sun rising, the world turning painstakingly slow. 
colorful lights dance on your face as you pull tzuyu close, hands curling around her neck. tzuyu, helplessly in love, holding you by the waist and sways with some sense of rhythm to the music. 
you pull tzuyu closer, so that her ear is met with your lips. “is this how it always is?” 
“i think so,” tzuyu replies. save for a few strobe lights, the night seems the same as it always does. it must feel different for you though. “how do you feel?” tzuyu asks, resting her chin on your shoulder. 
“good!” you cheer. “like, i didn’t even know that there were so many of us here! i truly believed that it would be less crowded. in fact, it is more.”
tzuyu nods, clutching her hands tighter around your waist. 
you sway and dance together, sometimes following the rhythm of the songs blasting out of the subwoofers, and the other times creating your own rhythm entirely, but that doesn’t matter. 
what matters to tzuyu—at this moment and all the others that have happened and will—is this; your bright smile reserved only for her, your warm hands around hers, your feet falling in step with her, your laughter when you dip down into her, or the high pitched call of her name that makes her twirl in her mind, the gaze fixated on her lips, the grasp on her heart: for now and always forever (in hope) will be you. and only you.
you and tzuyu break apart when you loudly demand that you’re thirsty and need a drink. tzuyu, helpless to do anything else, clutches your hand and makes you follow, even though she can’t wade through the crowd of strangers by the bar. 
tzuyu is grateful that the thump of the music in this area is a lot less, deciding on standing a few feet away, looking at you valiantly finding her way towards the bartender, jumping only when she feels a tap against her shoulder. 
elkie, one of the other friends that tzuyu is very familiar with, perhaps a year her senior, stands across her with a broad smile on her lips. 
“it’s been so long since i saw you here,” she says, stepping closer. “how are you doing?” 
“good,” tzuyu replies with a smile. “how bout you?” 
the music picks up in volume where they are, causing them to stand closer which isn’t entirely ideal, but it’s alright. elkie is good company, and tzuyu doesn’t mind. 
“are you looking for someone?” elkie asks, when she notices tzuyu look into the crowd of people at the bar station trying to see someone in a black leather jacket. “do you want me to help you find them?” 
“just my friend.” tzuyu replies, turning towards elkie. “she went in to get drinks for us and hasn’t come out yet.” 
elkie laughs. “she’ll come back, i’m sure. but tell me about you, tzuyu. are you dating someone?” 
tzuyu darts her eyes away from elkie. “i’m not actually, no.” 
elkie eyes brighten. “well, if that’s the case, call me if you want? you do have my number, right?” 
tzuyu blinks, before the realization dawns on her. “oh,” she says. “no.” she replies, turning towards elkie. 
“elkie, i—” 
elkie’s eyes widen with an understanding. “ah, you’re not seeing someone, but you do like someone,” she infers. tzuyu doesn’t say anything, only turning sideways to the crowd in which you have disappeared to. “yeah,” she replies, looking back at elkie.
she nods, gently holding tzuyu’s shoulders. “i get that,” elkie says. “i hope you figure it out, whatever that may be.” 
“thank you.” 
elkie smiles back, and plants a kiss on the corner of tzuyu’s mouth. “i think i saw someone i didn’t want to see, so i’m gonna run now,” she says. “don’t be a stranger, okay? let’s meet up for some lunch sometime—as friends, of course.” 
tzuyu smiles, patting her back neatly. “i will.” 
elkie excuses herself, walking swiftly past tzuyu, vanishing into the crowd. 
out of a bad habit set in the last fifteen minutes or so, tzuyu looks sideways to the crowd that you had ventured into, only to meet your distraught face. 
your face even turns furious when tzuyu meetes your eyes, but the undercurrent of hurt is open and raw. tzuyu instantly takes a step forward by instinct, wondering what caused it, relizing that you must’ve seen elkie kissing her cheek for this anger to be directed at tzuyu. but it shouldn’t bother you as much as it did—because why would it, it’s not like you to be jealous, because that would imply that you like—
huh. 
“you were here with me.” you shout over the music, steamrolling over close enough for tzuyu to see the shimmer on your skin. “we came here together.” 
“y/n—”
“if you dont’ like me back,” you start, shoulders dipping down in defeat. 
well, shit. 
tzuyu’s body breaks at that. 
“if you don’t like me back, then just say it instead of making me witness whatever the hell i just saw,” you say, drinking the entirety of the fizzy orange behemoth of a drink that was in your hand in one swig, and slamming tzuyu’s shot glass on the table. 
tzuyu finds you leaning against someone’s car, staring up at the sky. 
she wordlessly covers your exposed shirt with the leather jacket you dropped on the way out of the club. 
“that was elkie,” tzuyu breaks the silence. “she’s one of the few people that i know from coming to these parties. i guess we somewhat keep in touch now. we don’t like each other romantically. never, no.” 
you blink, while looking at her, nodding while fixing your leather jacket to fit it more better on your shoulders. 
“tzuyu,” you say. “what i said before—”
“is it true? tzuyu asks, urgency seeping in her words by the millisecond. “do you truly like me?” 
you look at tzuyu, broken. “i wore this outfit for you,” you say again. “i hate stiff leather.” 
tzuyu looks at you again, out of depth completely. 
“i hate this jacket but i love the way you look at me when i wear it. so i wore it today, with you. the only person i could see in this crowd today was you, tzuyu,” you say. “i came up with a silly, stupid excuse to kiss you. so you tell me if what i said was true or not.” 
“a stupid excuse?” 
“i didn’t have any dates,” you laugh without levity. “i had people asking me out, yes, but i couldn’t agree because they’re not you, tzuyu. the only person i want to go on a date with. the only person i want to kiss and be kissed is by you. so i lied to your face and told you that i wanted to practice. i made up with a terrible excuse to kiss you that doesn’t even make sense because i thought you could, maybe like me back too! and it really felt like you did, but then i see that and-”
“i like you.” 
you stop your train of thought from the sentence that just came out of tzuyu’s lips. “what did you say?” 
“i like you too,” tzuyu says, as rushed as she could say. “i like you so much. so, so much. it’s—” 
“you…what!?” you jolt with unbridled astonishment, crying, turning to grab tzuyu by the shoulders.
“why do you think i kept kissing you?” tzuyu asks with ardor. “i liked you too much to say no. i just—i couldn’t. and i wanted to go on dates with you and kiss you without having a reason, but i just couldn’t.” 
a bitter laugh leaves your lips, head hung down while you kick your sneakers into the asphalt. 
“you could—you could have,” you say, nodding in fervor. “you could have. i really, really wanted you to.” 
“i just didn’t know,” tzuyu says, regretfully, cupping your face. “and i’m sorry that i didn’t.”
your eyes flutter shut. “well, you do now.” you say. “you know that i like you. i like you so, so much, tzu.” 
“you know that i like you too. so, so much.” 
your eyes open again, teasing a glint quite apparent. “so, what are you going to do with this information, then?” you ask.
tzuyu, with her heart fluttering endlessly in her chest, brings you closer. with eyes closed, you meet tzuyu in the middle. 
you taste like beer, candy blossoms, and heaven. you taste like everything that tzuyu wanted, everything that tzuyu could ever want or need in her life. 
i love you, tzuyu mouths into yours as she kisses you. i love you, love you, love you. 
when you eventually break apart, a smile sprays across your lips, leaning in close, foreheads pressed together, one of tzuyu’s hands on your chest, right where the heart is patting frantically. “i love you, tzu.” 
another kiss is shared again, this time more slowly as the both of you took in the taste of exchanging lips, not wanting to ever pull away. it’s just you and tzuyu, entrapped in that silly little world that you and her have built around for so many years, now elevated to a new echelon. 
chou tzuyu doesn't like idiots.
but there was something about being with you as an idiot that makes it tolerable to deal with, and she doesn't mind that.
brushing your lips against tzuyu’s, you’re giggling and she follows. 
“i’ll embrace you like this, forever.” 
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✮⋆˙ a love 3005 years in the making; jason grace x vlogging! daughter of persephone blurb
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content: jason grace x vlogging! daughter of persephone blurb warning: lanauage i believe but enough cuteness overload to make up for it!! author's note: im not allowed to go to bed without a shower again bc it fucked with my head so so bad- i was legit in a bad place last night but then i took a shower this morning and was fine???? and all my creative juices came back??? it's criminal i can't- anyways heres more of our beloved vloggin girl and her boy toy!! also, as always with these now, there are previous parts to this if yall feel like reading them, but tbh, you really don't have to!!
"okay, okay, first, look how pretty my momma looks," you laughed into the camera, basically shoving it into persephone's face, the goddess rolling her eyes and gently shoving it away.
"you're sweet, darling. my pretty girl," she teased back, squeezing your cheek despite your swatting hands.
"whatever, mom," you pretended to huff, but your smile betrayed your act of anger
"im sure jason would agree-"
"that's enough out of you," you laughed nervously, speaking louder in hopes of covering your mother's voice. you then took the camera around the room, showing off persephone's fancy white dress, a replica of her wedding dress. then, once you were dressed in your deep red dress and make up all done, you were braiding your mother's hair, adding the occasional flower. playing in the background was 'slipping through my fingers,' as you gave your momma a squeeze around her shoulders, smooshing your cheeks together.
the video then cut to you dapping up nico, who was tugging at his suit that his dad forced him into, grumbling about the whole event while you laughed at him.
"where's your blonde boy?" you teased and nico smirked into the camera.
"with your blonde boy," he winked back, nodding his head over to where the two suit-clad boys were conversating, oblivious as you zoomed the camera in on this, the video shaking as you and nico laughed at the situation. it did not fly over your guys head at the two children of the underworld couldn't help but bring blonde golden boys home.
you were then showing the section of persephone's garden that would be hosting the event, showing the dance floor and stealing four macaroons and racing back to give to them to your boys. while you and jason twisted your arms and attempted to feed the other a macaroon like newly weds often did with cake, trying to be cute and funny. it wasn't going well, as you couldn't stop laughing, bending over at the hips and grasping his forearm to stay on your feet. jason couldn't help but laugh with you, unable to pull his eyes from your joyous form. then you and jason were whisked away, yapping up minor and major gods and goddesses alike. hermes demanded on being in the vlog, something about being an avid fan and follower. you agreed, nearly pissing yourself as you film him from a higher angle that made his eyes looked like they were bulging and his forehead longer than normal, hermes yapping away about something you couldn't hear over your laughs.
"im gonna cry-"
"shut the fuck," nico hissed quietly, the camera turned on the two of you huddled together, tears steadily pooling in your eyes. you then turned the camera around, showing the ceremony for hades and persephone. they were speaking in ancient greek their vows, which had everyone in the crowd in tears...save for jason, who couldn't understand a lick of it.
"translation, please?" he whispered over to you, rubbing a comforting hand on your knee. you swallowed down your sobs, leaning away from nico and over to jason, who promptly pulled out his handkerchief and began dabbing at your cheeks to avoid ruining your makeup but also collect your tears.
"basically, they're talking about how distance makes the heart grow fonder. dad knew he was in love with her the first spring of their marriage as he never felt a loss like that before, he imagines its something akin to what mortals feel when a loved one dies. mom's talking about how she wishes she could go back and eat the pomegranate whole, six months apart too long for her heart despite the fact she get's to see her mother," you explained, looking up at the boy with glossy eyes and soft smile that told him you were starting to understand your parents deep love on a personal level. and jason was starting agree.
"gross mushy gushy romance stuff," nico huffed from your left, which earned him a smack from will.
"he was crying a few minutes ago, don't listen to him," will whispered, leaning around the son of death, who blushed beat red and shoved at his blonde boyfriend.
"i was not!"
"you totally wore! look, there's tear stains on your sleeves!"
"those are yn's!"
"hey! no slander against my good name. i cry, but like a grown-up i admit it," yn cut in with a whisper and nico opened his mouth to say more before some minor god whipped around and scolded them into silence.
then the camera was being picked up sloppily, the picture blurring and slightly out of focus, turning to hades and persephone's confused faces. hades leaned in, trying to read something before disappearing from frame and coming back with a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose.
"ah! i believe it's this button, my blossom," he mused, fiddling with the camera, which cleared up slightly. persephone cheered her husband on before taking the camera back from him, leaning in like she was sharing a secret.
"alright, we really do not understand how to use this cursed mortal object, but hermes did give us a few pointers. and i know my darling daughter would want this moment on camera. and, even thought he won't say it out loud, my beloved boy too," persephone whispered into the camera with a slight giggle before turning it around and zooming in on the dance floor.
there, you and jason were slowly stepping to the music. your head was resting on his shoulder, your arms loosely grappling at his shoulders and resting above his heart. jason's head was bent down over yours, his lips lost in your hairline and near your temple, the ghost of kisses being pressed there. you said something, surely funny as balls, and jason quirked a smile, pulling his girl closer by her hips, as that's where his hands were resting.
"they're so cute together," persephone breathed into the camera.
"yes, and then there's my son and his boyfriend," hades sighed as persephone giggled, shifting the view to nico and will, who were trying to throw grapes into each other's mouths. then some pop song started playing over the speakers and will was desperately trying to drag a begrudging nico out to the dance floor. eventually, will managed to get him out there and they two were jumping about, nico pretending to not laugh and fall more in love with will, who was screeching along to the lyrics
"for a son of apollo, you'd think he'd be a better singer," hades prompted, persephone shoving at her darling husband with a tiny laugh.
"don't talk bad about him! i think this things still recording," persephone hissed, turning the camera around and squinting as she tried to turn it off, having accomplished her mission of recording her children in love.
"i'm just saying, would it kill them to bring home someone who's not blonde? someone with a little spunk, ya know? why do they have to keep falling for the softies-"
hades rant was cut off as persephone found the off button.
the video ended with a tiny collage from the night, photos of your parents as in love as could be and a few goofy ones of you and nico with minor gods and goddess, posing and just being silly. in one of them, you even managed to convince jason to do a handstand with you and a slightly tipsy hermes.
1.7k comments:
@/ur.evryday.mailman: who is that handsome man doing a handstand at the end 🤔🤔🤔
@/underworlds.favs: that's the iconic jason grace 😊🫶
@/ur.evryday.mailman: i walked straight into that one, huh? tell your boyfriend hi for me 🙃
@/user.1: IM SCREAMING- YOUR MOM RECORDING YOU- THEY ARE IN LOVE YOUR HONOR
@/underworlds.favs: the judge sides with the plaintiff, court dismissed 👩‍⚖️
@/user.2: these two gloomy dumbasses with their sunshine boyfriends i cant-
@/underworlds.favs: we know how to pick 'em fr 💪😤
@/user.3: you guys got the way you love from your parents for sure. tell them congrats on the long and clearly happy marriage for me!
@/underworlds.favs: they are, in fact, the blueprint. i don't know why bro is complaining about us bring home softie blonde's when he litterally took home the softest flower girl to ever exist. like bro, we got this from you wtf??? (also, this made my mom cry, she thinks youre the sweetest!)
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samgirl98 · 7 months
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Forgotten Demon Twin 3/?
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Danny meets the Batfam. He almost gets what he wants
So, apparently, COVID and lack of sleep really get my creative juices going. Enjoy this next chapter.
Danny followed Damian with a distance between them. He had left the wakizashi behind but had hidden a few non-poisoned needles up his sleeve.
He studied his twin’s body language.
Damian seemed open, if a bit tense. He kept his posture non-threatening, probably to take Danny off-guard. Danny could hear the chatter in Damian’s comm. No doubt his father and other so-called siblings.
(Danny only had one sister, and she was asleep at home.)
They ended up in the park at three in the morning.
Danny wished he could put all this behind him and sleep. As always, though, his needs weren’t considered.
Danny could see the small group of people semi-hiding in the shadows with his enhanced senses. They all looked up when they heard Damian and Danny walk up to them. All of them got defensive when they saw Danny, though they tried to be subtle about it.
“Father, meet Danyal. Danyal, meet father and everyone else.”
“Boo, you suck! Introduce us, brat,” a man with white and black hair (who reeked of death, but who was he to judge) said.
“Seriously, you little demon, that’s your introduction,” a sleep-deprived teenager asked. (Honestly, sleep deprivation was such a mood.)
“Baby bat, how could you,” a blue-eyed young man asked. (Actually, a lot of the boys had blue eyes and black hair.)
The rest of the group started berating Damian for his introduction.
Danny was stunned. If anyone had even thought about doing that to Damian while in the League, they would’ve ended up with a sword through their chest. Here, these people were treating Damian like a snot-nosed younger brother…and he was letting them.
“Children,” the older man yelled out, “Enough!”
(An older man was haunting Bruce Wayne, but Danny ignored the man dressed as a butler. It wasn’t his business.)
Damian’s face got smug as everyone else quieted down. Some of them (the eldest among them) started pouting.
The older man, Bruce Wayne, walked up to Danny and held out his hand. Danny stared at it for a second before shaking it.
“It’s good to meet you, Danyal.”
“Danny, but you already knew that, didn’t you, Mr. Wayne?”
“Please, in that same vein, call me Bruce. And, yes, I have done a little bit of research before coming here.”
“Hn,” Danny hummed out.
“Great, another non-talkative one,” someone murmured.
Danny looked at the group and noticed that the sleep-deprived teenager suddenly seemed very alert with his calculating, narrowed eyes. Hmm, he would have to keep an eye on that one; he seemed like the most dangerous one. Not physically, but intelligent wise…well, Danny has learned to fear smart people.
He let go of Mr. Wayne—Bruce’s hand. (The older man following Bruce smiled gently at Danny.)
“So, to what do I owe this…unexpected pleasure,” Danny asked.
Everyone turned to look at Damian. The Heir seemed to be, was that embarrassment?
“Yeah, Demon Spawn, why don’t you tell Danny why we’re here?”
“Fuck off, Todd,” Damian hissed out.
Todd grinned. (The butler—he had to be a butler—frowned at Todd’s cussing.)
Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Children, please, not before introductions.”
“Yeah, B is right. Anyway, my name is Dick,” the eldest said. He got Danny’s hand and shook it.
“On purpose,” Danny asked.
Dick laughed good naturally.
“My parents weren’t from the US and didn’t know the word's second meaning. By the time I found out, I was attached to my nickname.”
The one who stunk of death spoke next.
“Name’s Jason. I’m the second,” he was interrupted by the petite Asian girl.
“Ahem.”
“I mean, I’m the third oldest.”
“Hello. Cassandra Cain. The second eldest. And you’re my new baby brother!”
Danny blinked, “Cassandra Cain? As in the ‘One Who is All’?”
The girl nodded while giving a thumbs-up. Danny gulped. He was so screwed.
“Tt, she’s not that impressive.”
Danny gave Damian a skeptical look for the first time in his life.
“Hi, I’m Duke Thomas. Why is your aura so weird?”
Danny blinked at the random question.
“Don’t know, dude, radioactive chemicals, maybe?”
Everyone stared at him with a look of horror.
“I’m joking.”
“Oh, hah,” Duke laughed, uncomfortable.
“Tim Drake,” sleep-deprived teenager said without adding anything else—honestly, mood.
“Of course, father already introduced himself, and you know who I am,” Damian said. He always had to have the last word, huh?
The ghost spoke last (not that anyone else would know.), “I’m Alfred Pennyworth. I know you can see me, Master Danny. It is a pleasure to meet you, even if it is after my death.”
Danny ignored the ghost.
“Great. Now, back to my original question: why are you guys here? If the League is gone, why bother with the unneeded spare?”
Everyone, minus the ghost, shifted uncomfortably. Even Damian. Danny narrowed his eyes; something big was going to happen.
“Danny,” Bruce started, “we found out about you recently—”
“Yeah, very recently,” Jason said.
“—and we wanted to meet you. We—I needed to make sure you were fine. I missed so much and could not protect you due to my lack of knowledge of your existence. I want to know if you need any help, and if you don’t, I’ll be here whenever you need it.”
Danny let Bruce’s words sink in. It didn’t take long for him to put the puzzle pieces together.
“Talia never mentioned me, did she?”
He turned to Damian, “Neither did you.”
Damian looked down at his feet, looking ashamed. Danny narrowed his eyes.
Too little, too late, brother.
Danny took a deep breath.
Here I go. It’s time to sell it.
“Look, I appreciate you checking on me, but I’m fine. I have a loving family and an awesome older sister. All of my friends are here. Amity Park is my home. I don’t want to leave. Please, I was never able to ask anything for myself. I'm asking now, begging, let me stay in Amity.”
“I have looked into the Fentons and have read some disturbing things,” Bruce said.
“What, the weapons? They can’t harm humans.”
They didn’t need to know Danny wasn’t fully human anymore.
“Not only that but a portal to the afterlife.”
“So my parents are a bit eccentric. If it makes you feel better, I can give you a full, unabridged copy of their work,” Danny lied. No way in the Infinite Realms Danny would give the freaking Batman more ammunition to take Danny away.
The ghost butler frowned at Danny’s lies and gave him a look of disappointment. Hah! The jokes on him that didn’t work on Danny.
“What about the reports of these so-called ghost attacks?”
Danny waved off the man’s concerns, “They rarely happen, and when they do, we have our own hero who takes care of it.”
Bruce gave him a calculating look. Cassandra was whispering in Tim’s ear. While she spoke, Tim started narrowing his eyes at Danny. Dammit, this was why he hated intelligent people. Danny was a decent liar, but he couldn’t come up with something if there were more than one detective.
Not to mention, he heard rumors about Cassandra’s abilities.
Time to bring out the sob story.
“Please, I don’t want to leave the only family I have ever known.”
Bruce narrowed his gaze. Bruce felt the boy was hiding something. He’d have to ask Cass what she saw.
“Maybe we should let him stay, B. We can always keep in touch, can’t we, little D?”
Danny nodded vigorously. Bruce almost gave in, but he had to ask.
“What about the report of the city being pulled into an alternate dimension? The Justice League hadn’t heard about this, and I know you know that I’m Batman. You could’ve reached out whenever to let us know.”
“I don’t know. It didn’t occur to me. The threat wasn’t that bad. There were just a few more ghosts than usual. Besides, other cities have seen stuff like this. We have two heroes, and the citizens got together to fight the threat.”
“So, there was a threat.”
“Listen, dude, I’m not here to assuage your guilt. I want to stay with my family. I deserve that much, at least, right?”
Danny refused to break eye contact first. He stared down the Batman; he knew the man wouldn’t kill his family, so he felt confident asking for what he wanted. After a few moments, Bruce sighed. Danny knew he had won.
“Young man, you should really tell your father the truth.”
Danny ignored Alfred. He wasn’t the boss of him.
“Okay, I’ll choose to believe you,” Bruce took a card out, “but if anything happens, and I mean anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”
Danny had almost been home free. A few more minutes, hell, seconds, and he would’ve gotten away with his lies and well-crafted half-truths.
Of course, that’s when everything went to shit.
Danny’s ghost sense went off. Bruce’s gaze narrowed, and Tim asked, “What was that?”
Before he could come up with a lie, he heard him. Fucking Skulker.
“I’ll have your skin, whelp,” he shouted and fired.
Danny didn’t think. He transformed and put up a shield around the group.
It didn’t even take Danny 10 seconds. He took out his anger on the so-called hunter and sucked him up in the thermos. He was going to get a month of soup time, at least!
Danny turned toward the stunned group.
“Um, surprise?” He said while giving jazz hands.
Bruce’s eyes narrowed in anger, “Well, Phantom, is there anything you’d like to say?”
“This is why honesty is the best policy, young sir.”
“Um, you’re all dreaming?”
Bruce crossed his arms.
“Really, Danyal? You thought that would work?” Damian asked, angry.
Tim was looking at him with triumph in his gaze. Dick looked disappointed, and Jason looked entrance by Danny’s predicament. Cass was shaking her head, and Duke was, weirdly enough, blocking his eyes.
Fucking Skulker, man.
“I think it’s time you told us the truth.”
Make that two months of soup time.
Danny sighed and hovered in the air, crossing his legs. He might as well get comfortable.
Yay, Alfred has appeared. Danny was a bit rude, but considering what Damian did to him when they first met, I think Danny was being downright pleasant
Danny: Lying through his teeth.
Tim: This little bastard isn't telling us everything.
Danny: Gets caught in the lie.
Tim: Ha! I knew it. Once a demon always a demon
yeah, Tim is a bit prejudiced, not that we should completely blame him after what Damian did to him
363 notes · View notes
mundoperla · 1 year
Note
What about… RZ Michael Myers doing something unholy, like he’s really horny, with his fem friend (also a patient) at the Smith’s Grove? Like in some corridor or smth 👀 Wall sex, whaaat???
Would be grateful and on my knees, thanks 🙏
this got me kicking my feet in the air like a schoolgirl rn
& its my favorite michael??? ofc im abt to tackle this tf😩💜
𝙍𝙕 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙡 𝙈𝙮𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙭 𝙁����𝙢 𝙋𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
— No matter how many cameras there are, there will always be blind spots.
· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
you see the title bitties here are the warnings vv
⚠️⚠️cws;; basically public sex, wall sex ofc, michael being HORNY, p in v but i think thats kind of expected, overall that nasty shit (lighthearted)⚠️⚠️
· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
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Despite his lack of communication, Michael made your stay at Smith’s Grove much more pleasant. He never acted out or caused any type of problems when you first arrived, he’d been relatively calm for quite some time now. Always alone in his room, no sound, no nothing, just him making masks in silence.
It was his creativity that sparked your initial interest in him in the first place. His walls were cover from top to bottom in the masks he’d make in his alone time, many ranging from different colors and shapes. Truthfully he never wanted to interact with you whenever you’d make a quick pass by his room to go somewhere on the other side of the hospital, there was a point in time where he found you annoying even.
Yet no matter how much time passed you’d still swing by with a quick ‘hello!’. It escalated to a point where you would linger on the other side of his door and hold up one sided conversations with him, of course him never responding to you verbally. It was alright though, body language is able to tell you enough.
You did all of the talking for the two of you, which all though he never spoke aloud, he appreciated. He hasn’t spoken in years and by the looks of it he wasn’t going to any time soon. Trust me, Dr. Loomis has tried.
You were no threat to Michael to begin with, he had no reason to dismiss you unless he had become tired of your company; which very rarely happened. He was surprisingly as patient as you were with him, perhaps this was his own way of saying ‘thank you’.
The two of you were almost like a joined pair after he had grown slightly more comfortable around you, if you went somewhere—Michael followed, if Michael went somewhere — you would follow. It was shocking to everyone that he’d show even such a small form of attachment to another living being without brutally murdering it. Of course in the early stages of your ‘friendship’ the two of you were heavily monitored before you could be permitted to be in spaces together alone with just a nurse on standby.
“ I’m gonna go ask one of the doctors if I can have another juice, you want one too ? ”
Michael won’t verbally respond, but he will turn his eyes down to the floor at your question.
“ Alright so that’s a no. Sit tight I’ll be right back. ”
He watched you sit up from the table the two of you sat at, disappearing into one of the many hallways. He had originally got up to go and follow you like he always did, but something inside him told him not to, it had told him something else.
He ever so slightly considered you as some kind of companion, but he wanted you as something else. You were very beautiful to him and some of the other patients on your side of the building, it’s normal to think someone is nice looking. Yet he’d catch himself staring a bit too hard when you would do the simplest of things such as drinking some water or even when you stretched and a sliver of your stomach would be exposed. Was it also normal to have these filthy thoughts directed towards a so-called ‘friend’?
The bulge in his pants grew ever so larger the longer he sad and pondered. He needed to ‘fix’ this before you came back and saw. Would you think he was disgusting if you did see him this way? Surely you would.
You had come back to your shared table empty handed only to see that Michael was gone, maybe he’d gone back to his room? He could be tired, nothing wrong with just a quick swing by his door and wish him goodnight.
There were quite a few cameras the closer you got to Michael’s room, just as you turn into the corridor large hands yank you from the entrance to a darker corner of the hall. You’d mentally braced yourself to be strangled by this unknown person, but familiar blonde strands of hair loomed above you, of course the orange mask eased the tension much more.
Michael silently stared down at you, you could just barely see his sky blue eyes behind the paper mask. But now left the following questions, why was he just waiting in the corner? why is he now all of a sudden making actual physical contact with you? Truthfully one could only imagine the worst in the sense of it being correlated with him of all people, but the worst never came.
You’d opened your mouth to speak but you’re immediately silenced by the feeling of his erection pressing itself into your ass. He was rubbing himself against you now, still as silent as ever, showing no sign of satisfaction.
“ Mike- Michael! There’s cameras, we can’t do this here, we could get caught.. ”
Of course he doesn’t give you a verbal response, but this time will give you a slow twirl of his finger, telling you to look around you. There weren’t any cameras that could catch you in their line of sight, and the one camera that was much closer than the rest faced the opposite direction where you had originally been grabbed.
He was telling you it was safe to continue, you were clear to unfold. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit aroused as him, maybe even more. Using his cold hands to slide under your shirt so he could squeeze the soft flesh of your breasts, to then slowly migrate under the fabric of your pants to rub you through your underwear. You’d began to grind back into him, trying to pull down his own pants down as well as your own so the two of you could ease this tension much quicker.
Michael had fantasized about how you would feel around his cock, the way you would squeeze him and the sounds you could make when he started to thrust, he couldn’t live with the possibility of another person pleasuring you instead of him. He needed to be the one to take you, you may not be aware but you’re in fact his and his only. Maybe he liked you alot more than what he initially thought.
Your body trembled as Michael moved your body slightly so you were now fully pressed against the wall with him standing behind you, one hand held you in place by the hip whilst the other began to align himself against your hole, knowing him there will be no auditory warning that he’d be sliding in. You’re not a pussy, you could take him, couldn’t you ?
Both of your hands rested on the white brick walls, truthfully you weren’t even sure he was going to fit inside. He’s taking his sweet time behind you. You’re really about to become his in a dark corner that surveillance could not reach, this could have been much better under different circumstances, but neither of you could chose the have sex in a different location at this time, you’ll take what you can get.
The stretch that followed after an agonizing 15 seconds of the man behind you pondering could be considered as beyond painful, your hand quickly covering your mouth to muffle your whimpers. He can feel your walls clamp around him, gushing uncontrollably by the sudden rush of pleasure. He’s not even halfway inside you yet, but you’ve got his pelvis and a small bit of the floor wet now, clearly you wanted this as much as he did.
You don’t get the luxury of Michael stopping in his tracks to let you breathe before he continues to push himself into you, however you get the honor or him bending himself over enough to cover your mouth with his own hands instead of your own. Now you just had to focus on keeping yourself steady while he takes what’s his.
You’d think he had never hear the word ‘gentle’ in his lifetime. His thrusts were fast yet also powerful, despite his hands covering your mouth small moans still escaped. He had just started yet you felt so fucked out already, your legs trembling, your juices dribbling down your thigh and back down onto the floor.
He fucks you like you’re a fleshlight, dominantly chasing his own high but still trying to get you to come undone as well. He’s intentionally trying to break you as much as possible before the two of you have to eventually wrap up, his hands shy away from your mouth, one to slither down to toy with your clit whilst the other grips onto one of your tits as he continues to pound himself into your cunt like a man possessed. He makes it impossible not to scream but you are aware to still keep your voice down as much as possible.
“ Michael.. Keep moving just like that.. I’m so- Fuck.. ”
Your voice had continued to quiver the longer he kept going, the coil in your belly was about to snap once again. Michael considered finishing inside as some kind of ‘mark’ to leave behind, but he could always wait for another time to have that visual. For right now it was your ass that he had decided on, he’d still get a satisfactory visual of himself on you.
Practically yanking himself out of you just as you had came, his warmth begins to coat your skin. You’re lightheaded and you could feel your legs about to give out as Michael let go of you. Silently admiring his ‘art’, he’d wiped a smudge of his mess off of you with his finger, bringing it up to your lips. It was sweet but also bitter, it was him. He could leave you here to clean yourself up so he could go back to his room, but based off of how you were struggling to keep yourself up, maybe he could just take you back to your own room before departing for the night.
He had taken the time to get you dressed back up as well as himself, pulling you out of the corridor down to the hallway opposite to your own room. Your hand felt so small in his, he was intimidating to many people, but you ? There was an odd sense of security from being this close to Michael. He stood with you for a brief moment after arriving to your room, with him he could have just been there to stare at you a while longer or he was silently examining you to get a clear visual that you were okay to be left on your own now. Could have just been both.
He was exhausted now, but also mildly flustered. So much had just happened and he could barely process it. He’s turned to walk back down to his own room so that you could get some sleep as well, but is quickly stopped buy the force of you clinging yourself onto one of his arms tightly.
“ Goodnight Mikey, we should definitely do that again at some point. ”
You’re hardly standing up straight yet you’ve asked him to.. again, too much to process. But he will take your request into consideration.
┉ˏ͛ ༝̩̩̥͙ ⑅͚˚   ҉  ⑅͚˚ ͛༝̩̩̥͙ ˎ┉
apologies if the ending is messy i have no clue how to properly conclude shit i tried my best
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solar-wing · 8 months
Text
⚣ Remember 🥷🏻
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⚣🥷🏻A/N → This was a bit of a challenge for me for some reason. Maybe it's because we still don't know how exactly Jason died or what he was like when he was on the team so I had to go off what we know about Jason already. Plus, the fact that he doesn't have his memories really got my creative juices flowing. I did not proofread thus like the others cause I'm trying to focus on finishing my other fics. Also, here it is again for you @acoustickitten Anyways... WARNINGS: Emotion & Angst, Mentions of Death, NSFW warnings included on Patreon NSFW Version Here👈🏽
⚣🥷🏻Summary → When Jason died, your world fell apart. You and he had a special bond that you didn't share with anyone else on the team. So, when the chance to be reunited with him came as an invitation to Ra's Ah Ghul's island, you quickly took the chance to be with your old teammate, friend, and crush. Only you didn't expect to find him different than you remembered.
⚣🥷🏻Words → 4.2k
REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🥷🏻
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You were so glad you hadn’t given up.
When your previous team appeared on Infinity Island to rescue their friends, the Red Hooded Ninja battled with Nightwing, your old leader and friend. Ra’s ordered you to stay out of sight, as he didn’t want your former teammates to know you were here yet. Your mission was too important for them and yourself. So, you watched from one of the windows as your friends fought with your League allies.
Back in 2013, you had been recruited to the team by the Justice League when they discovered you on the streets of your city fighting crime with your meta-abilities. You could see into and read people’s thoughts, much like Miss Martian. Except your powers seemed to be stronger, seeing that you had the ability to control and enter someone’s mind at will and manipulate their thoughts. Along with flight force-field manipulations, you were quite the adversary. So when Batman, Captain Marvel/Shazam, and Black Canary showed up one day to offer you the chance to use your powers in a team environment, you figured, why not?
You were alone, having lost your family at a young age, and your adoptive family wasn’t much better, seeing you and your abilities as freaky. They just wanted to get whatever money they could off of you. So you accepted their offer and took on the mantle of ‘Psicon.’ Besides, living in the Cave was awesome. The Team was way more welcoming, and you felt like a part of a family for the first time, growing a special relationship with one of the members, Jason Todd, aka Robin.
Both of you and Jason had similar backgrounds and connected from that. The team often joked that the saying was true opposites attracted because you two couldn’t be more different from each other. Strong in your own rights, you were reserved, while he was outgoing. You thought with a slow, calculative mind, and he was impulsive. You were no pushover, but you mostly kept your thoughts to yourself, whereas he was very outspoken.
But, you found joy in your differences with each other. You shared similar interests and grew a strong bond. Over time, your feelings became less platonic and more romantic, which your friends loved to tease you for. Dick, Kid Flash, aka Wally, and Artemis mainly, before the latter two left the team for college. 
You hadn’t known if Jason felt the same towards you, but Dick encouraged you since the two had a special relationship, both being Batman’s sidekicks and sharing the mantle of Robin. Not at the same time, of course. When Dick picked up the mantle of Nightwing, Jason had become the new Robin.
You were planning to confess your feelings to Jason but never got the chance. 
A mission you weren’t on had gone left, and though you never found out what had went wrong, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened when everyone had returned except for Jason. Dick tried to comfort you as he felt your pain, along with Batman, but it did little to help. You were heartbroken. 
Jason was the only one who knew your history, as you hadn’t told anyone else. He knew some of your deepest secrets and insecurities had helped you through dark moments, and now he was gone. And it wasn’t just for you, as your friends and teammates had noticed your impact on him.
Maybe that’s why some had joked about how Jason held a soft spot for you. He was always nice to you, of course. But, he always had a level of sass and bluntness he’d give others but never towards you. Your friends, even Bruce, had mentioned how they saw that you’d tapped into a more gentle side of Jason none of them ever could see or would be allowed to see, at least.
So, no. Dick couldn’t understand where your pain. No one could. 
After that, a distance grew between you and the team since everyone refused to tell you what had happened. Then, in 2015 a little over a year later, Batman recruited a new Robin, Tim Drake, and you had fucking lost it at that point.
Furious at Bruce and Dick for being so willing to replace Jason, you went off on them, feeling they had dishonored him. Your teammates tried to calm you down, but your fury had been on a different level none of them had seen before. Even Conner was unsettled at the rage spilling off you, being considered the literal definition of anger issues himself. It was safe to say you had no relationship with Tim. While you weren’t hostile or bitter towards him, you had no incentive or want to build a friendship.
At some point, you received a mysterious envelope. Where it came from, you didn’t know, but what was inside it had your attention immediately. It was a letter asking for your aid in an important matter. And whoever wrote it apparently had particular need of your ‘talents.’ You were prepared to ignore it until you saw another note inside, only it wasn’t a note at all. It was a picture, a recent one.
Jason.
He was alive. You could tell cause he looked a bit older than the last time you saw him. Though, just by looking at the picture, you could see something was off. That usual egotistic but confident spark you always noticed in his eyes wasn’t there. Both the corners of his mouth were straight instead of one side upturned up a bit, leaving him with his natural smirk. 
In truth, his blank gaze at the camera caused an unsettled chill to go through you. It was as if you were looking at a ghost of Jason instead of an alive one.
But it was him.
He was alive somewhere, and after so long of only feeling hollow and numb where your heart should be, you felt it stirring in your chest again.
You didn’t know if the others knew, and you weren’t planning on telling them. You’d contemplated leaving the team for some time, and Tim’s recent addition only made that decision easier for you. So the next day, when everyone was asleep, you packed your clothes and disappeared that night, not saying goodbye to anyone.
That’s how you ended up with the League of Shadows and the Al-Ghul family on their island. When you saw Jason for the first time, you wanted to run to him, hug him, and sob into his shoulder. Part of you didn’t believe he was alive, needing hard proof of living flesh in front of your eyes. Truly enough, even looking at him, your mind still couldn’t believe he was there. He still had that strange blank look on his face, though. When you first entered the room, he stared at you, which creeped you out even more now that it was in person.
You found out Ra’s and his family were the ones who recovered Jason’s body and had used the infamous Lazarus Pits to revive him, and while the pit’s healing and life-restoring abilities did that, there were consequences. He explained that the Pit tampered with Jason’s mind, sending him into a feral and almost animalistic state, and though they tamed him, his mind was scattered, and memories were gone.
That’s where you came in. Your telepathic abilities had been recognized exceptionally for their strength, surpassing M’Gann’s powers. With your ability to enter and manipulate minds, Ra’s suspected you could restore Jason’s memories, bringing him back to himself.
At first, you were unsure since you didn’t know the consequences that could come if you tampered with his thoughts. When you’d voiced these concerns, Jason had turned his head to you, a curious gaze replacing his blank expression. Ra’s and Talia observed, speechless as he made his way to you, head tilting in confusion as he stared into your eyes. You didn’t move, watching his hand come up to your face and one of his fingers slowly caressing down your cheek.
“Psi…con.”
It was your turn to be speechless. You felt tears come to your eyes and shut them, attempting to hold yourself together. It was too much. Clenching your fists at your side, you choked on a gasp as you forced yourself not to cry. Even Talia felt a bit emotional at the sight of your grief, though she didn’t show it, remaining poised as ever.
“Ah, it would seem your presence has already triggered a spark in his mind. You two must have had a significant connection for him to recall your name.” Ra’s pointed out, eyeing you with an intrigued look.
It didn’t take much convincing after that.
“I’ll do it.” You stated with no hesitation in your voice.
That same smile Ra’s held when you agreed was the same one on his face now in 2019 as you and Talia holding baby Damian had come out just in time to see the Bio-Ship flying off to hear Jason uttering “Gray…son” in a slow, and almost zombie-like speech.
You had begun to lose hope. Jason, now the Sensei’s Red-Hooded Ninja, was trained as a guard and protector. He was no longer of a feral and animalistic sense of mind but more of a living, mindless zombie, understanding and taking directions well. However, the sessions he had with you were not making much progress. 
Every time you’d gotten close to having a breakthrough or found what you thought was a crack in the haze around his mind when working, you got shut out. It was as if something was trying to keep you from getting to Jason’s inner mind and releasing his memories, and you didn’t think there would be much you could do anymore, as nothing seemed to be working.
So, expectedly, you felt your heart pause and your body still when you heard him. Barely feeling like you could move, tears had once again come to your eyes at hearing the first word in the four years you’d worked in healing Jason’s mind.
“Ah, your memory is finally returning. Excellent.” Ra’s said before he turned in your direction, nodding for you to come to his side. “Your work is starting to pay off. I’m aware of your frustrations in this quest, but tonight has proven your efforts are not in vain. I want you to continue your sessions more frequently. This could be the start of him fully regaining his mind.” You nodded your head before turning back to walk inside, Jason trailing behind you from Ra’s order.
He followed you to your room, where you went inside and rummaged through your drawers before finding the desired items. You turned to see him standing in the middle of the room, the red glow from his robotic eye mask bright in the moonlight from your window.
“Please, sit.” You asked.
In your sessions with him, you always spoke with a gentle tone. You didn’t want to command or order him around like the others. You communicated with Jason as you always had before, hoping it’d bring familiarity and comfort. Over time, it seemed to work. Jason notably sought you out whenever something distressed him. For whatever reason unbeknownst to you, this had pleased Ra’s.
Even if you were having little success restoring Jason’s mind, Ra’s had noted that while everyone else had Jason’s obedience, you held something more precious, his loyalty and trust.
Tonight, you hoped you’d found what you needed to achieve that first and ultimate objective. When your old teammates showed up, and you watched Nightwing and Jason battle, it reminded you of the old days before he had died. You three goofing around in the control room during sparring and training.
After hearing him utter Nightwing’s name and thinking back to the first time he uttered your old superhero name, it hit you like a ton of bricks. 
Those moments were all triggers for Jason. Things that evoked emotion and nostalgia from him, like when someone smells a dish their grandparent used to make when they were a kid or hearing a song that reminded them of a special moment. 
It made you remember a comment Jason once made about how when you talked, it calmed him. He said how he found your voice relaxing and that he could just listen to you speak about whatever, and it would bring him peace. Not really knowing what he meant by it, you remembered very well how it made you feel and how it still makes you to this day.
Thinking back to the night you came to the island, you realized Jason hearing your voice had been his first trigger, which helped him remember your retired name. Fighting with Dick brought back the nostalgic feeling of when he used to spar with him in the control room, helping him remember his name.
So, you intended to create more triggers. Whatever prevented you from fully accessing Jason’s mind and releasing his memories was obviously weak to emotional pulls. Those pulls could come from anything that held a feeling of significance or nostalgia in his memories.
Grabbing what you needed, you joined Jason on the ground, crossing your legs before placing everything in front of him. You had a small collection of Jason’s things he’d given you or stuff you had borrowed from him and forgotten to give back. You had some of his favorite books, old batarangs, and even one of his eye masks from his Robin costume.
He looked at everything on the ground, picking some things up and observing them before placing them back down.
You’d tried this tactic before, but with your discovery, you figured maybe there was something you needed to do or say to help spark something. Jason thumbed through some books and messed with the Batarang a little, but you had to be careful since you weren’t sure if it was one of the ones that could explode.
When he picked up the eye mask from the Robin costume, his head tilted while looking at it before turning to you and holding it between his hands, making you grin at his adorable confusion.
“It’s your old mask. It goes over your eyes. Here, I’ll show you.” You explained, holding your hand out, allowing him to place it in your hand.
You brought it up to your face and put it on before showing him, “See? Like the one you have on, it goes over your eyes.” You said.
Jason stared back at you before he looked down and pointed at the space next to you. Realizing what he was asking, you nodded, “Yeah, you can sit next to me.” You expressed, patting the spot next to you
He got up before moving to the spot and placed himself back down before turning to look at having to tilt his head down slightly. He pointed to the mask on your face, silently asking for it. When you took it off and handed it to him, he just looked down at it, turning it to study it from all different directions.
“Do you want me to help you put it on?” You offered.
He turned his head to you, that glowing robotic mask staring at you before you saw him slowly nod. Turning your body to face him a bit more, you reached your hands up slowly, “May I?” You asked, referring to his current eyewear.
He paused for a moment before nodding. Gently placing your hands on the sides of his head, you grabbed the mask and lifted it from his face, able to see his blue-green eyes, taking time to enjoy them since it was rare you ever got to see them. He rarely removed his mask, and only when you were doing intensive work with your telepathic powers on him did he sometimes remove it.
You were caught in his gaze as well as he was with yours. For a moment, it felt like you were back in 2013 before everything had gone wrong, and it was just you and Jason, staying up at night talking about anything and everything that came to your mind. The memories brought some tears to your eyes, and you were shocked to feel a finger come up to one of them. Jason was looking down at you, and though he mostly still held a blank expression, you could see underneath a bit of concern etched into his gaze.
“I’m okay.” You assured, or at least attempted to.
Wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your robes, you gave him a quick smile, which seemed to relax him. You hadn’t even noticed he was tense.
He turned back to look at the mask before slowly placing it on his face. A bit smaller now since he’s grown, it was like you were looking at him as the day you last saw him. You loved how his hair was still slightly curled over his forehead with the mask, not being able to notice it as much when he wore his ninja hood.
You raised your hand slowly to his face, pressing your palm against his ear. Whether or not he snuggled into your hand was totally not important and did not cause swooning in your gut.
Alright, you’re a liar. But you’ve been through a lot these past few years. You’re allowed to have this moment.
“Okay, Jason. We’re going to do what we do in every single session. But, this time. I’m going to project some of my memories into you. Is that okay?” You asked. Consent is key.
He nodded his head after a moment, training his eyes on you as you closed yours. He kept focusing on you while you channeled your memories into your hands to pass on to him. Eventually, he closed his eyes, welcoming your power into his head.
There were flashes of different moments from your past, all relating to you and him. Some were moments of you guys training together in the sparring room with Dick. There were times of you two together on missions, and one particular memory when Jason’s big mouth got you both into a less-than-desirable situation once again. But he managed to get you out of the sticky mess by using said big mouth again. That memory always brought a smile to your face. You remembered being so mad at him and then laughing at it like madmen when you returned to the Cave.
In each of these memories, Jason was wearing the mask. It was a part of his identity. Not just as Robin, Batman’s sidekick, but as Jason Todd. The boy who just wanted someone to care about him.
Suddenly, your head flooded with more memories, some you recognized as not your own. In your physical body, you could feel Jason tensing in front of you, shouting out in pain. It was working!
You managed to unlock part of Jason’s memories. Concentrating, you could see some of these moments from his past. And to your shock, they all seemed to involve—you. You saw the first day you’d met the team and Jason for the first time. You’d thought he was an obnoxious little twat, emphasis on the little since you were taller than him at that point, and you had voiced this thought as well. Over time, he caught up with you. And now, he’s got a few inches over you.
“Did this nobody just call me a little twat?”
That wasn’t your voice, nor was it your words. You did call Jason a twat that day, but you’d never call yourself a nobody.
You caught another memory of when you and he were with the team fighting against Dr. Ivo and Amazo. That fight left many bruises on your body since Ivo had decided to make some upgrades. When Amazo managed to get your powers and use them against you, it’d trapped you in your thoughts, torturing you with some of your worst memories. Jason pulled out of there while the others had managed to distract it long enough and eventually take it down. He’d overheard some of what you were crying out about and decided not to push.
When you had returned to the Cave, Jason followed you outside to get some air and think for a moment. You had warmed up to each other a little, and Jason had started telling you about his background and how he came to be Batman’s sidekick. After some contemplation, you told him about your past and how the Justice League found you. He had made a joke saying all you needed was the staircase and a letter from a white owl, and you could be the next Harry Potter.
You punched him in the arm for that joke,
“Hmm, kid’s not as bad as I thought he was. Packs a punch too.”
It took you a minute to realize, but you eventually got it.
These were Jason’s thoughts from those memories you were witnessing, his own inner dialogue. It was interesting to see some of the moments he found precious, things you had never even thought about before or remembered at the very least. And now, you were hearing it from his point of view. You used to always make a joke with him that you’d pay big money to know what he was thinking about sometimes.
“If he knew what I was thinking, I’m sure he’d either smack me or punch me, maybe both. Wouldn’t do anything except make him hotter.”
Pardon? Can we rewind that last part?
Did Jason call you hot? Like hot, as in attractive hot? Or, hot as in, ‘Ah! This bitch is burning. Get them away from me,’ hot?
Looking at Jason’s other memories with you, you could also feel some of his emotions from those precise moments. You felt annoyance from earlier thoughts, typically around the earlier parts of your relationship. Amusement at times when you and he would get into a silly argument. Or when you went on one of your excited rants about something. The further you got along in his mind, the more you felt his feelings change, becoming more intense. Curiosity turning into fondness. Admiration becomes the urge to protect.
A particular memory had caught your mental attention. One that you recognized was about a week before the mission that would ultimately lead to the end of Jason’s life. Dick and Jason were at their house, Wayne Manor, and they were talking while working in the Batcave.
“So, how’s everything between you and Zatanna?” Jason asked while practicing his kicks and punches on one of the training dummies.
“It’s good. She’s still a little upset over Nabu’s refusal to release her father’s body for no more than an hour, but she makes do with it.” Dick said, turning to face him from whatever he was doing on the Bat-Computer.
Things had gone quiet for a moment, Dick looking a little smug before he spoke up, “So, you and Y/N?” He smirked.
You felt a clench in your chest and didn’t know if that came from Jason or yourself.
“Shut up,” Jason said.
“I’m just saying, you two seemed to have gotten really close over the last few months. You’re actually considerate and somewhat respectful when you’re around him too.” Dick commented.
“Fuck you, and again. Shut up.” Jason responded.
Somehow, you could feel the small smile that formed on his face.
“You want my advice—”
“No.”
“Tell him how you feel and ask him out,” Dick continued, ignoring Jason. “And I’d do it soon. You didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve heard someone else on the team has eyes for Y/N too. So, if I were you, I’d hurry up and take my chances. You never know how long you have until it’s too late.”
An unpleasant toil in your stomach blossomed at that sentence, but you felt curiosity at the same time. You just didn't know if one or both feelings belonged to you or Jason. You did wonder who harbored feelings for you on the team though.
You couldn’t dwell on it any longer though when you were tackled to the ground, forced back to reality. Opening your eyes, you saw Jason on top of you, looking at you with another feral look, only it wasn’t the same as the one he had when you first arrived on the island. This one was wild but in an attractive way. His sea-like colored eyes staring back at you but with a darker look. It had you on edge but also ☀️feeling very hot with how he pinned your arms to the ground.
“I… l-lo– love … y-you.”
Your entire body froze as his head fell against your shoulder. Feeling his chest move against push against your back with his breathing, you could only turn your head slightly to stare at his before he turned to face you. The dark haze in his eyes was now gone, and his blue-green ears were staring back at you with the same adoration you’d always seen before whenever he looked your way.
He remembered you.
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