#I’ll make a masterpost soon

[egotistical-cabbage]

Sometimes, you just need a reminder.

‼️🚨THIS IS HORRIBLE QUALITY. THE REST OF IT IS BETTER, I PROMISE.🚨‼️ SO IT BEGINS.

have this little teaser comic while i work on the actual comic itself (which will probably not be as well done as this one, which says a lot. So consider this a warning.)

part 1 of my new AU: “Murphy’s Law”

part 2 here

stay tuned!

[linkito]

Devotion AU Watcher (Fledgling) Grian

[Scar here]

[empydoc]

good mornin !!

i’m still getting there with the soul eater au but i thought i’d share the concept i have for asset.

(if you haven’t seen my other stuff regarding the au, i use the tag #redacted soul eater au for all my stuff!)

basically i like to think that asset themselves was built still for their original purpose, but also to test out if people would be able to make or replicate what it is to be a weapon and have an artificial ‘wavelength’.

asset can functionally change their body into a weapon of most basic descriptions!

during the ‘obsession code’ portion of their existence, i like to think they recalibrated their artificial wavelength to only be compatible with marcus- something he didn’t anticipate, and something that inevitably gave him away when people realised that they couldn’t test out asset’s ability to switch forms.

james and anton are partners with their actual listeners, but i’m also wondering about writing a concept of anton encouraging asset to feel more comfortable leaning into their weapon form with him during checks, because marcus made them believe it was an act that should be considered “private”

anyway … yeah! partially inspired by ruby rose’s scythe weapon in rwby, also inspired by mechanical weapons in general ⛹️‍♂️ hope that all makes sense.

[otomehonyaku]

those Lost Eden short stories are actually really fun to translate! they don’t take very long either, I think I might do the other ones too to switch up with the novelization chapters a bit

[crushed-starlight]

WILD CRUSH LORE TODAY !!!

so instead of actual class today, we had a self guided walking tour of a neighbourhood in our city !! (it’s relevant to our course i promise)

meadow and i were walking together and he mentioned we were sorted into groups again, and that we were in different ones :(

HOWEVER !!

when we got there, everyone had already kinda grouped with their friends, including us two with our friend ,, let’s call her goose (since she’s a silly goose like meee) and some others !! and the lecturer basically said “well it looks like you’re already in groups so you can just stay in those instead” !! big win !!

so me, meadow, and goose got to explore a bunch !! i’m good at navigating, so i did most of the directions stuff from the print-out maps we got given.

we ended up finishing early and going exploring to a store that neither of them had been to, and goose’s boyfriend showed up and those two left pretty soon after, leaving me and meadow alone in a completely unfamiliar part of town :0 so we shopped a little and headed off to a house viewing we had planned to go to :)

now . keep in mind . i already have plans to live with my current roommates next year and meadow is gonna live with one of his roommates and a friend from back home that might transfer to our school ,, so not me . HOWEVER. that roommate wasn’t free today so i came for emotional support !! so i was just along for the ride :3

we got to the first apartment, and the person who was meant to give us the tour …….. didn’t show up !! so we just waited for like 20 minutes talking about ??? and making dumb jokes and yknow ,, being friends. then we went to the second property and got a neat tour !! the apartment kind of sucked but the tour person assumed i was the other potential tenant so i just .. kinda played along ?? and asked questions and stuff ?? as if i was actually considering it ????? it was a fun lil fantasy moment for me :3

after that we walked home and i played our spotify blend from my phone, wow we both have abysmal music taste. i love it.

anyway, i realized i need an actual game plan instead of just simping in silence forever. so !! i made one !! in beautiful illustrated flow chart form !!

surely nothing will go wrong and my plan will go perfectly right ?? right ??????? RIGHT ?????????????

we have class together tomorrow again, i don’t remember the last day we didn’t see each other. i knew uni life was gonna be a crush-filled chaotic mess for me but i didn’t think i’d get in this deep after only a couple months.. :,)

[unclefredandjohnnierutter]

CCPT23 is over and I want to say thank you to everyone who listened/reblogged/liked/commented on my playlists!! Ive been sitting on this project for like six years and its finally done and I feel very seen

It was so good to reconnect with the games and do a quick review of them all. The random order worked so well imo and i loved how the games still played off each other even tho it was random, i just think its neat!

I dont engage with fandom a whole lot but I’m glad yall are still here posting about these silly mystery games on tumblr.com. A lot of the music included has personal significance/fits into my interpretation of the games and its okay if you dont like them. I had a lot of fun combing thru spotify and making the images with snapchat and i hope you got some enjoyment from somepart of it too

Thanks again, cluecrew 4ever 💚

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton Chapter 4, Part 1

masterpost am still sick. no editing or concrit please. *sad coughing*

Wally had already known that Danny was smart, but watching Danny work with Barry, Victor, and the others put Danny’s intelligence in a whole other category. Danny was science smart.

The swift progress from everyone working together making a way to communicate with Wally using readings from Danny was encouraging. What wasn’t encouraging is how Danny seemed to fade a little more every day.

“—take a break, Danny,” Dick said. He’d taken his role of mother hen seriously, as he always did.

“Yeah, one sec,” Danny mumbled around the screwdriver in his mouth. “Just let me finish these wires. We’re almost ready for another test.”

Dick hummed before agreed, “Okay—after the test—eating and taking a nap.”

“N,” Danny whined.

“Don’t N—,” Dick replied. “Flash wouldn’t—killing yourself to save him.”

“Damn right I wouldn’t!” Wally agreed, even if no one would hear him. Everyone else might still be a little static sounding, but he knew Dick well enough to know what he was saying.

“Already died,” Danny grumbled to himself as he kept working on the wiring.

Dick chose not to respond to the aside, which was probably for the best, and settled back against a wall of the converted bio lab instead. Wally leaned next to him.

“I know that we both know that letting someone stay involved is important for mental health, but you have to be willing to ground Danny when the time comes,” Wally said, just to be able to say it. “I can feel him getting weaker. I’m worried that it’s an exponential thing too, and who knows how much it will worse when the sensors are working.”

Dick sighed next to him. Wally nodded along as if Dick had been agreeing. In the background, Danny, Barry, and Raven were talking.

“I know, he’ll be suborn about it. But you could always point out how he’s the only way to get me back,” Wall shivered as a sudden wave of cold passed over him. “We’ll know that’s not why, but if it works, it works, right?”

“Wally?” Dick asked his name in such an absolutely wrecked way that Wally spun and was reaching out before he remembered that Dick couldn’t see him.

Except that Dick was looking right at him.

Wally could tell, even with the lenses.

“Can—can you see me?”

Dick nodded slowly.

“And—and you can hear me?! You can hear me!” Wally reached for Dick.

His hand went right through him.

Oh.

Small steps.

“It’s hard to hear you,” Barry said, over to Wally’s side in a rush. “It’s like Danny has said, you’re all static. Visually too. It’s like the channel isn’t turned right. But! We can work on refining that until we’ve locked onto the right frequency and then we can work on pulling you out of there! Your aunt is going to strangle you as soon as she can touch you, so be ready for that.”

Wally barked out a teary laugh. “Yeah, she would. I’ll take that. I’ll take being touched just about in any way right now. I mean, just talking to you all! I didn’t know if…”

“Never,” Dick said admittedly. “We’ll always come to get you. And luckily you were smart enough to find Danny.”

“I think that was all luck, nothing smart about it. I’m just glad that—Danny?” Wally looked over to Danny, who was leaning against the equipment, and just knew that things were about to go badly. “Barry! Catch him!”

[yoonjae20]

5 Times people outside of the immediate Batfamily find out that B is married and the one time the world meets his husband [Bruce/Danny; Spirit Halloween]

Surprise, surprise! Due to immense positive reaction to the last Spirit Halloween Oneshot, I wrote another Oneshot interconnecting with the previous one. As you can see per the title it's a 5+1 Oneshot! Inspired by PaperPuffin's "Batman's Husband" over on ao3.

Read on ao3. Masterpost.

Previous. Next.

1.

Barbara stretches her arms above her head and winces at the pop her joints make. It’s well into the early hours of the next day and it has been a long night – there had been an Arkham outbreak which needed all hands on the deck. After 5 stressful hours every Rogue was captured and back behind bars – all that remained were the reports they needed to fill out.

“I’ll head off for the night, I want to get at least a little bit of sleep before I have to go open the library,” Barbara announces over the comm.

“Thank you for your help today, Oracle,” Bruce grunts and Barbara is about to put down her headset when she hears paper getting shuffled around before the distinct sound of ceramic being settled down echoes through the comm.

“Thank you dear,” Bruce’s voice is surprisingly soft and Barbara wonders who brought the man tea – Cass perhaps? There’s some incomprehensible murmurs before Bruce hums thoughtfully. “I’ll probably be done in about 20 minutes or so – just need to finish this report. You can go ahead to bed – I’ll follow you in a bit.” Some more unclear mumbles, but distinctly male before Bruce snorts. Then there is the distinct sound of lips meeting each other. “Good Night, I love you.”

Barbara feels like she intruded on a very intimate moment and she quickly logs out of the comm system before she bursts the bubble Bruce seems to have settled in. 

She places her headset next to her keyboard before rolling backwards and only then she lets out the squeal she had been holding in. Since when has B been in a committed relationship? She’s so gonna milk Cass for the details – she needs to know everything. 

2.

“Where’s Bruce?” Steph asks as she meets the rest of the Batfamily in the manor for movie night.

Normally the man never skipped out on those unless on an out of world mission.

“On a date,” Tim says absentmindedly as he scrolls through their selection.

Steph’s face scrunches up.

“As in Brucie?”

Jason snorts.

“Actually no,” he says. “Do you remember Bruce’s ring?”

“Yes?” Steph answers, uncertain where Jason is going with this.

“Yeah, apparently he’s married.”

“Wait, what?” Steph doesn’t believe her ears. Bruce Wayne? As in - brooding, stoic Bruce Wayne, who goes out at night in a Furry Costume to fight crime? “For how long?”

Jason turns to Tim who startles with all the attention on him. 

“26 years,” Tim states and Steph almost chokes on her spit. 

“No way.” Steph shakes her head. “That would mean he’s been married since well before like either of us all knew him!”

“Believe me, we were also quite shocked,” Jason mutters, before adding something under his breath. “Should have known that even his taste in men is quite peculiar.” 

Tim starts their movie, but Steph can’t focus for a single second. What the hell is ‘peculiar’ supposed to mean? 

3.

Lois opens the door to see Bruce standing before it – along with a gift bag where a bottle of champagne is peeking out of it.

“Bruce!” Lois greets him warmly. “I’m glad you were able to make it!”

The man grunts before handing her the gift bag and following her into the house.

“Clark is doing a little errand, but he’ll be here soon enough.”

Bruce just nods and Lois settles down the gift bag on her kitchen counter, pulling the champagne bottle out. Her and Clark are celebrating their 15th wedding anniversary and the latter had wanted to invite Bruce to a simple, quiet dinner in their house in Smallville. 

“Where are the boys?” the man questions when he sees that their table is only set for three people.

“Jon said he had a hang-over with Damian and Kon is on a mission with the Teen Titans.”

Bruce hums and soon Clark arrives back from his errand and they sit down at the dinner table.

In the middle of the meal, Clark opens the Champagne bottle with a loud pop before filling three glasses. Clark raises his own glass as he clears his throat.

“To another 15 years!”

Lois echoes the sentiment while Bruce nods stoically. 

Their glasses clink as they toast to each other and then they finish their meal. Bruce still sips on his first glass of champagne when Clark broaches the topic.

“This would have been even better if you also had someone at your side, Bruce,” the man says. “Doesn’t it get lonely?”

Bruce raises an eyebrow and Clark coughs at the man’s deadpan expression.

“Just imagine if we could have celebrated your 15th anniversary too!” the man tries to save the conversation and Lois snorts at her husband fumbling. 

“What Clark wants to say is that we wish for your happiness and that we sometimes wonder if a partner would achieve that,” Lois helps out and Clark shoots her a relieved smile. “We've never really seen you date anyone – and those headlines about ‘Brucie Wayne’ don’t count, you know?”

“That might be because my 27th wedding anniversary is coming up,” Bruce says as if he is talking about the weather.

Clark sputters while Lois’ eyes widen. 

Bruce raises his right hand and Lois’ eyes focus on the ring on his ring finger – it only now really registering for Lois. It had almost become invisible over the years. Bruce’s lips twitch into a faint smirk.

“Or do you guys think of this as decoration?”

Lois' eyes twinkle as she suddenly pulls out her notepad. 

“Tell me everything.”

4.

A knock on his window makes Jim pause in his reading. The world outside is dark and Jim groans when he sees the time displayed in the corner of his screen. 03:57 am. He had been supposed to be home more than a few hours ago to eat dinner with his daughter.

His joints creak when he stands up from his seat — walking over to the window. He’s not surprised to find a looming shadow lingering behind it — quickly letting Batman in.

The man enters, landing softly and without a sound before he hands him a file. Jim purses through it — quickly recognizing it to be one of his recent murder cases.

“Red Robin made a breakthrough,” Batman explains gruffly. “He wanted you to receive this as quickly as possible.”

Jim nods before settling the file on his desk, before sinking back into his chair.

“I hope you are not planning on going back on patrol.” Jim rubs his tired eyes as he shuts down his computer. “While you may be a Cryptid, even you need your sleep.”

Batman’s soft snort surprises James.

“Actually I wasn’t,” the man claims. “My partner was very adamant about the fact that I would deliver this file and then go straight back to the Cave no matter what happens.”

Jim pauses. ‘My partner.’ The way the Batman had said it so casually surprises Jim. 

He barks out a laugh.

“Good that there’s someone other than Agent A looking out for you then,” he teases as he watches the computer turn black. “You need it.”

Batman huffs out a breath and that’s as good as a laugh for the man than anything. 

“Update me on the case,” the man says in lieu of a goodbye before disappearing out of the room with a swish of his cape.

Jim leans back in his seat, snorting. He never expected anyone to tame the Dark Knight — but apparently even the impossible is possible. 

5: Wayne Enterprises staff 

The Board Meeting dragged on. It was one of those rare times that Bruce actually attended them - normally he left those to Tim, but the boy hadn’t had time this time.

Once again Lucius applauds Bruce’s ability to stay patient even when Tiffany from HR drones on about unnecessary gossip — only smiling politely and nodding once here and then. 

They had gone over the new developments and their future goals already and were well into their allotted one hour time slot. Most of them knew by now that these meetings often overrun and could go well up to two hours if no one (most of the time either Tim or his assistant) cut it short.

Normally Bruce is well versed in being the picture perfect CEO - kind and never once complaining. However this time Lucius notices the man glancing at both the clock opposite to him and his watch that he is wearing multiple times as they near the one hour mark. Lucius can even hear the man audibly grit his teeth and his left eye twitching once Tiffany goes on another tirade.

It’s 10 minutes past their allotted time slot that Bruce seems to have enough — he cuts off Tiffany's rant about one of their engineers with a firm, “Well if that’s everything — I have to get going. My partner and I are celebrating our anniversary.”

Then he promptly leaves the room after dropping that bombshell. Not a millisecond later when the door closes the room erupts in hushed whispers. Lucius doesn’t doubt that by the end the entire building will know about the man’s “mysterious” partner. Lucius quietly schedules a press conference for the next day.

+1

The media gets wind of it by the next day — because of course they do. Each headline is more extreme than the next and Danny has fun teasing Bruce by reading each one out. 

The interview Lois had forced Bruce and Danny into would probably go up either tomorrow or today now that the cat was out of the bag so to speak, but he probably would still need to address the general public in the press conference. Bruce silently thanks Lucius for his foresightedness in scheduling a press conference for today – Bruce had been tired yesterday, the exhaustion loosening his lips. While he didn’t want to hide away Danny now that he was back, he had wished for more time to announce it on his own terms. 

Bruce stands in front of the mirror as he adjusts his tie and Danny stands behind him, chin on his shoulder and arms around his waist. 

“You’ll do fine,” Danny cheers up Bruce. “Just deflect to the fact that an exclusive interview is going up soon and keep it short and simple.”

“You are not one who has to address them,” Bruce grumbles. 

“Do you want me to?” Danny’s voice is uncharacteristically serious. 

Bruce turns to see the man instead of looking at him through the mirror. Danny runs a hand through Bruce’s styled hair before settling it on the man’s cheek. A finger brushes Bruce's lips before Danny pulls him in for a soft kiss.

“You know I would do everything for you, darling.”

Bruce huffs out a fond breath and settles his forehead against Danny’s.

“I know,” he confirms, before linking their hands. “Together?”

“Together,” Danny affirms with a grin. 

Danny changes into a nice dark blue suit – complementary to Bruce’s blue tie and together they step on the stage to address the news. Both of them smile as they wave at the flashes of the cameras.

“Hello Gotham,” Bruce greets. “This is my husband – Danny.”

[notjustjavierpena]

I read Comfort and felt so bad for Javier not getting a chance to comfort his girl after her nightmare!!!! Can you write hubby comforting Inés after a bad dream? Pls and ty ❤️❤️

Brave

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Here’s a little quick thing I wrote for you, anon! Inés loves her father so much, don’t worry! 

Summary: Javier comforts his daughter after a nightmare and they have a little talk about bravery. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, hurt/comfort, nightmares, implied reference to PTSD, fluff, family fluff, healing my own and my readers’ childhood!!!

Word count: 2.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65312092

Brave

Javier sleeps with his senses on high alert. It is a habit that he thought he would let pass on after leaving behind Colombia and returning home to Texas. Yet after having kids, he finds that the skill of being aware of his surroundings and listening for any signs of danger has settled in him permanently and even improved significantly since he isn’t just worrying about his own safety anymore. 

So when he hears the tiny feet shuffle down the hallway followed by a sniffle, he is sitting up in bed before he has even registered the command from his brain to his body. Beside him, you stir slightly because of his movements and mumble his name half-asleep. He leans down over you, runs a hand over your head.

“Shh, just go back to sleep, mi amor (my love),” he whispers into your skin after kissing your bare shoulder, “I’ll check on her.”

He says her because he could recognize his daughter’s presence anywhere and from even the tiniest of tells. Exactly like now by just hearing how her soft feet shuffle on the wooden flooring and from the shallow, stuttering sobs of anxiety that have his old heart aching to hold her. A nightmare again, he bets, due to her wild imagination. She has them a lot. 

He swings his legs out over the edge of the bed and plants his feet on the cold floor, the cool temperature forcing him to be fully awake. He thinks for a moment that he wouldn’t even need to be awake to find his way to her. 

The hallway seems longer and scarier as it is only lit up by the sliver of light that comes from the nightlight in Inés’ bedroom. He finds her a few feet from the door to his bedroom, clutching her stuffed Eeyore in her hands like he is the sole protector in the darkness. Her eyes are huge and wet with tears, her bottom lip wobbling as soon as she spots her father. 

“Daddy,” she sobs.

“Inés,” Javier coos when he has closed the door behind him, already moving forward to pick her up. She wraps around him like a koala bear wraps around a tree trunk. Eeyore is squished between the two of them but he doesn’t complain, “¿Qué pasa, monita? (What’s going on, little monkey?)”

“I had a bad dream again,” she sniffles into his neck, and he can feel the warmth of her wet tears on his skin. He hugs her tighter even if it makes her cry more. It is only good that she lets her emotions out if she needs to, “There was a monster chasing me really fast and it had a million eyes looking at me. I couldn’t find you.”

“That sounds really scary, mi vida (my life). I understand why you’re upset,” he kisses her soft hair a few times while she clings to him, “I wish you would have called me or mamá.”

He is already carrying her back to her bedroom. He could have let her sleep between the two of you, but given how often this is an occurrence these days, you and he have talked about reminding her that she’s still safe in her own bed. 

When he crouches down to put her back under the covers, she draws back and wipes her face with the hand holding Eeyore even if it is awkward and his leg nearly pokes at her eye. She heaves for breath as another sob threatens to break free from her chest, “But I didn’t wanna wake you.”

“You can always wake me or mamá if you need us, baby,” he lets her know without hesitation, trying to keep his voice in a tone that tells her that she hasn’t done anything wrong, not even by staying quiet when he wished she’d called for him. 

“I know,” she says, her hands picking at the edges of her pink blanket, “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to say sorry,” he tells her, “Papá just doesn’t want you to be alone when you are scared and upset. It’s okay to need me when things feel too big.”

She gives a tiny nod, “O-okay.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead, already moving to stand, “Alright, mi amor (my love). Try to get some sleep now, okay? Buenas no– (Goodnight)”

When he is just about to be back at his full height, she signals that she still needs him by letting the stuffed toy fall to the mattress and pulling at his arm in a silent plea. Her eyes and nose are red and puffy from tears but they’re not wet anymore. He doesn’t hesitate, immediately understands what she wants when she scoots over. 

Javier crawls under the covers with her, making the bed creak underneath him when it is so clearly not made to support the weight of a grown man. Her sheets smell like children’s shampoo and sleep. To a father, they smell like the kind of love that softens any rough edges of his soul. 

With an exaggerated and comical huff, he carefully shifts onto his side to face her. She looks almost shy as she mirrors him and looks at him adoringly. He tugs Eeyore into the crook of her arm, brushes a stand of her hair behind her ear. She drags the covers over their heads with determination.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks in a whisper when they’re in their makeshift den of safety. 

“A little,” she responds with renewed calmness and hugs her toy tightly. She tries to whisper but she’s not very good at it, “It felt like the monster was real but it wasn’t. And– and it felt like you were really gone!”

He nods in understanding, “I know what you mean. I have dreams like that too that feel really real.”

Her eyebrows furrow. He can see the confusion in her eyes, mixing with disbelief that anything could get the better of him, “You have nightmares like mine? But you’re not scared of anything!”

“That’s not true. I get scared sometimes,” he gives her a tired smile, trying not to let her see how he is experiencing a taunting flash of terrible things that his brain has conjured up over the course of his life. Bullets, empty cribs, and blood on his hands, “It’s not fun, huh?”

“No,” she agrees and shakes her head. Absent-mindedly, she reaches for his hand and holds his pinky, “Daddy, what do you do when you have a nightmare?” 

“I try to remember that it isn’t real and nothing bad is going to happen to our family. I’m home and in bed next to mamá,” he answers after a beat where he pretends to think, “If that still doesn’t help, I get up to check on you and your brothers. Sometimes, I try to think about something nice that makes me happy.”

She tightens her grip, stuffs her nose in Eeyore’s blue fur, “Like what?”

He taps his mustache with his index finger, suddenly playful to make her relax more when talking about the harder things, “Hmmm… Pancakes for breakfast. Or you and Lucas jumping on the trampoline. Mommy dancing in the kitchen with Seb.”

The picture makes her giggle and then yawn. Javier feels a warm flash of pride at getting her to be comfortable again and very cute while doing it, watching her sink further into the mattress as she grows tired again. It is hot underneath the pink covers but he powers through for her, if it means her feeling safe and secure. 

They are quiet for a moment. Inés’ eyes start to droop, her breathing slowing down but she’s still not asleep. Instead, she is fighting it and looking like she is turning over every little word of their conversation to make sense of it. After a moment, she crawls into his arms and presses her cheek against his chest. 

“I like being like you, Daddy,” she murmurs softly and Javier’s throat goes tight with emotion. He hadn’t expected the profoundness of those words at three in the morning in a bed full of stuffed animals. 

“You do?” He blinks away tears. 

“Yes, because…” she trails off, trying to piece together her thoughts while he hugs her close and tries to be patient, “If you have dreams like mine… then mine don’t feel so bad. Because you are brave and if I’m like you then I am brave too.”

Javier is speechless for a moment and fills out the silence, busies himself, by reaching up to stroke his daughter’s hair repeatedly. He is sure that his heartbeat can be felt against her little face, that he is one wrong breath away from giving into a sob. He hides it to not make her feel like she has made him upset, but if she were to ask, he would say that her very being is mending something in him that he didn’t know was broken. She is so small, so precious to him that it hurts. It aches so gloriously in his very soul to love someone so deeply.

“You are brave, baby. You’re my brave girl,” he eventually gathers himself enough to reply, “Coming to get me when you had a bad dream? That was brave. Telling me about it? Even braver. Asking me to stay with you? The bravest.”

She draws back to read the sincerity on his face, but then looks down with embarrassment. She fiddles with Eeyore’s ear, “But I cried.”

“Look at me,” he tips her head up again to find her tired brown eyes and there she is, trusting him even when she’s unsure of herself. He can tell she is listening from the way she is watching him, “Crying doesn’t make you not brave, Inés. Crying just means that your heart is working like it should.”

“That’s good,” she agrees thoughtfully. She looks like there’s more she wants to say but she is interrupted by another yawn as sleep deprivation hits her. He takes the opportunity of her tiredness to adjust the covers around them, uncovering them so he can finally breathe in the air of the room again. She shifts beside him to find the perfect spot in his embrace, Eeyore lying between them. 

“What are you thinking about?” Javier whispers to give her a sense of it still just being the two of them even if they’re out in the open land of her bedroom. 

“Can we think about pancakes now?” She inquires. 

“You can dream about pancakes, monita (little monkey),” he corrects her with a little laugh, nose in her hair to kiss it again and breathe in her strawberry toothpaste on top of the sweet shampoo, “You need more sleep or you’ll be cranky in the morning.”

“And I am like you,” she giggles and hides behind Eeyore. 

“Yeah yeah, and you’re too smart for your own good,” he clicks his tongue at her in jest and drags her into a squishing embrace that makes her protest with happy laughter. He shushes her, “Less giggling. More snoring.”

“You have to say goodnight to Eeyore,” she demands into the soft fabric of his shirt. Her words are slurred as if the very action of closing her eyes has brought her to the brink of sleep. 

Javier fishes out Eeyore so he doesn’t suffocate underneath her. He settles him on the headboard of her bed so he can watch over her, conjuring up the tone he used to use when he was the boss in Cali (minus the unfathomable amount of swearing), “Goodnight, old Eeyore. You’re on monster-hunting duty now.”

Inés lets out a tiny noise that tells him that she is pleased. It doesn’t take long for her breathing to even out after that, telling him that she’s fast asleep in his arms. It feels sacred. 

Javier stays for a while. He doesn’t want to disturb her moment of peaceful sleep. He’ll get up soon, he tells himself, will ease her gently off his arm and return to his own bed. However, he dozes off too after a few minutes, not that he means to but her soft breaths knocks him out like a hammer to the head. 

He only wakes up again when you gently rub his shoulder. He startles but only momentarily, then heaves a yawning sigh and blinks in confusion at being woken up. 

“I’m awake,” he whispers and holds up his hands in surrender. 

“I can see that,” you stifle a snicker. 

“Another nightmare,” he explains. 

You don’t need any elaboration, “She okay now?”

“Yeah, she’s good.”

“And you?” You question and he loves you a little more.

“I’m okay,” he answers and it is the truth. 

You lean down to kiss his lips, “Don’t fall asleep in here or your back is gonna hate you in the morning.”

“She said she likes being like me,” he blurts out a little sheepishly like he is still in shock while you pull away from his mouth. 

“Smart girl,” you hum lovingly, “You’re a good one to be like.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[skzdust]

Worth It

Smut. MINORS DNI.

I haven't posted a fic in a bit but the Ateez concert announcement has me FERAL and I've been thinking about Yunho,,, those hands,,, augh

I hope to be posting more smut soon, I have a lot in the works!

This is in my band abo verse, which also includes the fics Rock Will Never Die and Whatever Will We Do! I'll make a masterpost soon teehee!

Summary: Y/n chats with a guy at a bar... and Yunho is a possessive man.

Pairing: Yunho x reader

Includes: omegaverse/abo, "slut" in a sexy way, fingering, vaginal sex, they really do a number on the hotel sheets lol

Word count: 1.3k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst

@jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

“Hey, pretty.” A voice said from behind you.

You turned around to see a moderately attractive man with a truly horrible hairstyle. He was smiling at you with a confidence that was probably unearned.

You decided to entertain it anyway, looking him up and down. “You’re not bad yourself.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Not bad? I aim for better than that, but I’ll take it. D’you want a drink?”

Well, at least you could get a free drink out of this guy. “Yeah.”

You followed him over to the bar, glancing over your shoulder to see where the band was. You could see Seonghwa and Hongjoong in a corner booth, all over each other, but no one else.

“So what do you do?” His smile was toothy as he handed you your drink.

“I’m a manager for a band.”

He laughed. “They any good?”

You frowned. “The best.”

“I’m sure with you at the lead they’re decent.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“A compliment, obviously.” He shook his head.

You weren’t entirely sure how to react to that. “What do you do?”

“Aside from pick up hot chicks?” You flinched, icked at the phrase, but he kept going. “I’m in investments. My portfolio is pretty extensive.” He leaned in. “And I’m an alpha.”

A finance bro alpha who picked up hotchicks. You had to get out of here now.

“Nice.” You nodded, setting your drink on the bar. “I think I’m gonna go find my friends.”

“Hold up, can I come with you?”

“Ah, no.” You smiled. “Sorry, I’m here with my band, and I’ve gotta make sure they’re doing okay.”

“They can take care of themselves for a few minutes, I’m sure.”

“Y/n?” You turned around at the familiar voice.

“Yunho.” You sighed, relieved.

 Yunho’s arm wrapped around your waist. “Who’s this?”

“Just some guy.” You said, waving your hand. “Unimportant.”

“I’m— I’m important!” The guy sputtered.

“Does unimportant want to have sex with you?” Yunho stared at him.

“I… I mean, you are hot.” He said, looking at you with hope in his eyes.

Yunho laughed, the sound mocking. “He wants to fuck you, y/n.” He leaned in by your ear. “Why don’t you tell him who gets to fuck you?”

You felt a thrill in your stomach, shooting between your legs. You looked at him. “Only my pack gets to fuck me.”

The man raised his hands in mock surrender. “Well sue a guy for trying! How was I supposed to know you had a pack?” He pointed at you, accusing. “And you let me talk!”

“I wanted a drink.” You rolled your eyes. “I was literally trying to walk away, because you creep me out.”

Yunho grabbed your hand. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah.”

Thankfully, the guy didn’t try anything or follow you as Yunho all but dragged you through the people in the bar to the door.

“Where are we going?”

“Hotel.” He growled. “Someplace with a bed.”

You got into the taxi in silence, and Yunho’s hand traced patterns on your inner thigh in the backseat. You closed your eyes, trying to keep your composure. You could feel yourself growing slick already.

You got out of the taxi, and Yunho held your hand in a vise grip as you got on the elevator. He tapped his keycard and opened the door. The second it clicked shut behind you, you were on your back on the bed, Yunho on top of you.

“Little slut.” He breathed in your ear. “Flirting with fucking strangers at the bar.”

“I really did just want the drink!” You protested.

“Somehow I doubt that.” Yunho pushed his hand under your waistband, and you moaned at his touch. “I could smell you in the taxi. You need me.”

“Need you, Yunho.” You sighed.

“You don’t need unimportant. He can’t fuck you like I can.”

“No, he can’t.”

“Actually, he can’t fuck you at all.” Yunho laughed. “He may have been an alpha, but he’s not your alpha. I’m your alpha, and you’re my omega.” He leaned in again. “Mine, got it?”

“Yours.” You whimpered as his hand found your clit. “Yours, Yunho.”

He drew small circles on it, his finger working faster and faster. You could feel yourself approaching climax just from the stimulation.

“I’m gonna come.”

“Thank you for telling me, sunshine.” He pulled his hand off, holding it out to you. You obediently licked yourself off his fingers. “Good girl. You better fucking be, after how you acted tonight.”

“I’m sorry.” You whined. “I’m sorry for being such a slut.”

“That’s a start.” He pulled your skirt and underwear down, throwing them somewhere on the floor. “You’d better show me, too.”

“Fuck me! Please, Yunho.”

“Beg better.” He sounded bored.

“Please.” You said. “Please, Yunho, I need you, I’m sorry I was talking to that guy, I did just want the drink, but I’m yours, I’m yours, I need you, I need you to fuck me.”

He laughed. “Now that’s a good girl. Begging so pretty.”

“Please.” You whispered, wriggling, your pussy aching at the thought of him fucking you.

“Alright, alright, fine, since you asked so nicely.”

You almost sobbed as he pushed two fingers inside you. “Yunho, I need your cock!”

“I know.” He crooned. “I know, sunshine, and you’ll get it, I just want to watch you get a little bit more desperate for me.”

“Yunho, fuck, please.” You groaned, your hips thrusting up into his hand as he fucked you with his fingers. “I’m so— I want you so bad, I need you.”

He didn’t say anything, continuing to move his fingers inside you until you. Your slick leaked all over the sheets, not as much as if you were in heat, but more than usual.

He seemed to read your mind, laughing. “We’re gonna need new sheets.”

“Please!” You whined. “Please fuck me.”

Yunho pulled his fingers out, shoving them in your mouth. You sucked on them.

“Good girl.” He unzipped his fly, taking his pants off.

Your mouth started to water looking at his cock through his underwear. He took that off, too, and you made a small, involuntary noise seeing his huge cock.

“Want it?” He teased.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, sunshine, you can have it.” He positioned himself over you, aligning himself with your dripping hole.

He pushed inside in one swift motion, and you moaned, your slick loud as it was forced out of you. “Yunho!”

“What, sunshine?” He said lightly. “What is it?”

“Move, please, please fuck me.” Your hips pushed up.

“Impatient slut.” He murmured, but he began to fuck you. “I suppose you’ve done a lot of begging today already.”

“Thank you, thank you.” You moaned. “Thank you, Yunho, it feels so good.”

“I know, baby.” He said. “I know. I know you love it.”

“I do, I love it.”

You were practically incoherent as he fucked you, mindlessly babbling about how good it was and how much you loved it and needed it. His cock always made you see stars. He was so big and so rough with it, and you loved it.

“Yunho, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, sunshine.”

You shook as you came, one of the best orgasms of your life surging through you. “Yunho!”

“That’s right, say my name, baby, it’s me who’s making you feel this good. It’s me. You’re mine.” He murmured.

You just lay there, breathing hard, as he continued to fuck you, chasing his own climax. “Wanna finish inside you.”

“Yes, please.” You moaned, the thought exciting even in your tired state.

“Fuck— fuck!” He pushed himself as far in as he could get, and you gasped as he filled you up.

He pulled out, and a mess of slick and cum pooled out onto the bed.

Yunho looked at it. “We’re definitely going to need new sheets.”

“Worth it.”

“Worth it.” He agreed.

[bladeupnred]

Sidetracked

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader ~ CW: unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), bestfriend!noah is a munchh, i think that's all :) ~ Word count: 1.8k

This ended up being a little longer than anticipated, but hopefully you'll accept it as thanks for all of the love this blog has been receiving. This is the first of many bestfriend!Noah pieces that I'm working on. The masterpost can be found in my masterlist, enjoy!

Smut below the cut. MDNI.

You woke up to the incessant vibrating of your phone, earlier than you had planned to wake up you might add. You reached for your phone with eyes closed, hoping it was an annoying checkpoint in your dream.

“Who the f—,” you finally saw the caller’s name on your phone, your early bird, irritating, best friend, Noah.

“This better be life or death asshole,” you groaned, mumbling still refusing to accept conciousness.

“Awww no, did I wake you sleeping beauty?” you could basically hear the smirk from the other end, dick.

It’s not like he didn’t know, his bedroom is across the hall from yours.

“You know you did, what do you need?” At this point you’re sitting up against the headboard, knowing him he’ll be dragging you out of the house soon.

“It’s hot as fuck today so we’re having a pool day, I’m making sandwiches for us now so get up.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little, the sentiment would have been kind of sweet and thoughtful if he’d let you sleep in.

“Fine, only because there’s food involved. I’ll be down in 20,” you finally stumbled out of bed and headed into your bathroom attached to your room. “Oh, and make me a coffee, bye!” you hung up before he could throw one of those smart ass come backs your way that he’s so good at.

Almost immediately, there was a knock on your bedroom door. You walked over, opening the door to arguably one of the most glorious sights you’ve ever seen.

Noah was on the other side, an iced coffee in hand as if he read your mind—something that he’d gotten eerily good at over the years. But then your focus spanned out to take him all in, shirtless with his usual black swim trunks on. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a little worked up at seeing his toned, inked chest, and those arms. There was no denying that you two found each other attractive, and I mean who could you be more comfortable exploring your attraction with than your best friend? To say you two were comfortable around each other would be a serious understatement.

“Hellooo, earth to y/n?” he dipped his hand reaching out with your coffee trying to get your attention. You made eye contact and he was smirking at you like the smug little bastard he was.

“Yeah- just wasn’t expecting you to have my coffee that fast.” What a shitty lie. You grabbed the coffee from him and took a sip, feeling completely flustered all of a sudden.

“Mhmm,” he crossed his now free arms, now getting his chance to take you all in. This was his favorite look on you, although you in any form was enough to make him fall to the ground and worship you. You still had that slightly sleepy, airy look about you, only dressed in an oversized tee—his if you had to guess, and a cheeky pair of undies. He felt his dick twitch at the sight, knowing he wanted to toss out his plans to leave this room any time soon now.

“Okay well I should probably get ready if I’m gonna be down in 20, and you should get back to those sandwiches,” you turn around wanting to just get away from him before you lose any self control this morning. He grabs your wrist keeping you in arms reach and tugs you back in to face him again. Okay, too late.

“Sandwiches are done but that’s very thoughtful of you,” he moves his free hand up into your messy hair petting you softly. “I think I need a taste of something else first though, don’t you?” He smiled down at you, now close enough that your noses were almost brushing against each other.

You looked up at him and nodded, feeling yourself get wetter by the second. Here goes that damned self control.

In the next second he had his mouth on yours, moving you back towards your bed. It was needy and hot, but sensual and attentive. He laid you down, running his hands along your sides, not breaking the kiss. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his middle and felt his cock pressed in between your legs, the thin fabrics of his trunks and your panties the only barriers between you.

You were sure that he could feel the pool between you and you needed him to do something about it soon. Reading your mind again, he tugged on the hem of your shirt.

"Looks good on you, but I need you to take this off," he let go prompting you to take over. You don't know why, but it made you blush. As you started to rip your shirt off, you felt his hands pull down your panties in one motion. You threw the shirt to the floor, turning back to see him kneeling below you. He had his hands holding your inner thighs open and he was examining you fully, and for a second you couldn't tell if you should be embarrassed or flattered.

"Jesus Christ, I always forget how wet you get for me," he smirked up at you. What a tease.

You felt a little embarrassed, but he knew that the embarrassment would turn you on all the more, which is the only reason he'd ever make fun of you, he would never hurt his best friend.

"It's okay pretty, you get me hard as a brick any time I see you, which is only all the time." You were already fighting demons here and now his breath was on your core, so close he could almost taste you.

Then he finally did. Noah ran his tongue up and down your slit, instantly pulling a breathy moan from you. He lived for those noises you made, from your quiet, sleepy moans to those screams you're both sure your neighbors can hear some most nights. He began a cruel, slow rhythm licking you from top to bottom, drawing a beautiful string of breaths and moans from you. You were so close to coming undone for him already.

"Not fair, Noahhh," you grabbed a handful of his hair hoping he'd take it easy on you. For just a moment, he lifted his head up looking back up into your eyes.

"Just want a taste and then I'll give you what you want," he turned his head to pepper kisses on your left inner thigh, "Just give me one real quick." He then divided his attention to your right thigh, and you threw your head back feeling overwhelmed with how good he was making you feel. In the next moment, he had his mouth back on your center, this time dipping his tongue further inside you to explore.

You knew you weren't gonna last much longer, and like he knew what you were thinking, he leaned further into you, positioning his nose perfectly on your clit applying pressure. That motherfucker.

"Fuck. you.," you gripped his hair harder, that familiar feeling bubbling up inside you.

You swear that you could hear him chuckle against you, you even think you feel it vibrate through your body.

"Noah, please. I'm gonna," you barely managed to blurt out.

"Come on pretty girl, you're so close," he knew just what to say to coax you to climax. Pretty girl.

There it was. You finally felt your first climax ripple through you, legs shaking in overstimulation.

Noah wasn't letting up yet, licking and devouring your mess, the mess he made. You grabbed his hair for the millionth time, finally getting him to break free from you.

He was so fucking sexy like this. Panting, your juices all over his mouth and chin, and then there was his cock, still clothed and impossibly hard.

You reached for his waistband and tugged them down, tired of the teasing.

"Someone knows what they want," he teased removing the swim shorts the rest of the way and tossing them to the growing pile of discarded clothes nearby.

"Well you said I could have what I wanted," you shrugged at him settling back into the bed ready for him.

Okay, he lied earlier. This was his favorite look on you. Beneath him, naked, all blissed out and giddy--over him.

He moved closer to you, grabbing your hips and guiding you to wrap your legs around him once more. As you complied you felt him position his tip against your entrance.

Feeling eager you started wiggling your hips, which you knew he'd tease you for, but at this point you were begging for any contact again.

"So impatient," he started to slide another inch in, then stopped again. "I told you I'd give you what you wanted."

He quickly slammed further into you until he was buried completely inside. He began a quick and intense rhythm, sliding almost entirely out of you before immediately slamming back into you.

You felt ashamed but this was your favorite way to be with him. Quick, needy, like you couldn't possibly be any closer to one another, falling apart on command for each other.

"No- Noah. I can't. I'm gonna cum again," you managed to get out in between catching your breath.

"Wait for me, I'm almost there," he leaned down and closed any gap left between you. He kissed you, knowing this would be his unravelling. He swears he could cum simply from making out with you, no other contact needed, and he would even try to steal kisses on the daily where he could.

You felt him speed up even further, knowing that he would come undone at any moment now.

You break away to move your lips to his jaw, then start to work on his neck.

"Fuck, gonna cum," he was the one struggling to string words together in between breaths now.

You finally let go, feeling that white hot heat rip through you again, more intensely than last time.

Between your orgasm and the neck kisses, he was ready to fall apart.

He pulled out and feverishly started pumping himself before he finally exploded all on your stomach, painting you white. He hovered over you for another moment, catching his breath.

"One second," he said, getting up from the bed. He came back a second later with a hand towel, dipping back into the bed.

He began to clean you up, making sure he got both your messes cleaned up off of you. You were completely blissed out, looking up at him empty-headed.

When he was finally done, he leaned down to give you a gentle kiss on the forehead. "I'm gonna go get our sandwiches, meet me by the pool?"

Oh yeah, you had original plans to spend the day outside before you got...sidetracked.

You nodded up at him, partially annoyed at how easily he could pull himself together while you hadn't even moved yet. He walked towards your bedroom door, pausing to turn back one last time.

"Oh uh, don't bother putting a bathing suit on, I have a feeling I'll just be ripping it off soon anyway." He shrugged and walked out of your room, leaving his swim trunks by your bed.

author's note: hiiii, i haven't had a chance to make the form but i will be making taglists for my works, so until then if you'd like to be on the bestfriend!noah oneshots taglist, let me know :)

reading this back it definitely feels like i rushed this, esp the ending (which i did) so sorryyyy was just desperate to get this thought outta my head

[redflagshipwriter]

Mama Bat 9: Dinner Out

masterpost

After her promise, the bats were a whirlwind of activity. He didn’t know where Uncle D or Alfred went, but Cass and Bruce gently bustled him across the house to plan his ecto dinner like it was an attack on an enemy base.

“I think it was around here,” Danny said uncertainly over the map in Bruce’s study. “I don’t know the names of any of these places. But there was this abandoned-looking theme park that had a lot of what I need.”

He didn’t have to be the world’s smartest ghost to recognize that there was a lot of tension in the air after he said that. That tracked. There were not many pleasant ways for a place in the human realm to accumulate a glut of deathly energy.

“That makes sense,” Bruce said. “Cass, honey, do you think we should ask Dick and Jason?” He folded the map back up along the same lines as before without even looking. Danny wondered at why he had that muscle memory. Did he fold everything in the same pattern?

“Big visible muscle,” Cass agreed. Her phone appeared out of nearly nowhere. “Danny.” 

He stood up even straighter. 

“Is Amity dangerous?” She pinned him in a look, her soft brown eyes arresting. “Dangerous to Jasmine Fenton?”

“Jazz,” he corrected automatically. Cass nodded. He rolled his ankles around, stimming below their line of sight. “Uh.” Danny faltered. “Um.” He bit his lower lip and tried to feel less like there was a painful hand around his heart. 

He hadn’t thought so. But he would never have thought that he and Vlad were in serious danger, either. Now that the GIW and Mom and Dad knew… They would know who to ask for more information.

His parents would never push his friends or Jazz too hard. But the idea of the GIW trying to intimidate his friends and family was almost too upsetting to consider.

“Batdad extracts them?” Cass cocked her head at him to make it even more of a question. It was up to him. Was it a good idea?

Danny licked his lips. His mouth was so dry. He struggled for words. “Maybe.” One shaky inhalation. “If, um.” It sounded like someone else’s voice. It couldn’t be him saying that right now. “If it wouldn’t be too obtrusive… I don’t want to extract them and then, like, they can’t go back if they wanna.”

“We can handle that.” Bruce made eye contact to promise. He looked, Danny thought, like a more responsible, boring version of Jack Fenton. His eyes burned. 

“That would be, uh. Cool.” Danny managed to get that out and avert his eyes, but he felt like everyone could see that he was about to cry.

Whatever. He leaned to the left before he consciously knew that Cass was lifting an arm to put over his shoulder. It slotted in place like they’d done it a billion times. Danny tilted his head towards the nails she gently scratched through his hair.

“Batdad, Damibat, Timbird, Stephanie,” Cass listed easily. “Amity.” She jostled Danny a little. “And we get dinner. You only need me. I’m the best. But we bring boys too, Dickbird and Jason.” She blew a raspberry.  

Bruce looked exhausted and fond. “She is the best,” he agreed. Danny watched their interplay like it was a pingpong match. “I think you ought to go tonight to get something to eat. Would you recommend that we contact Jazz and your friends in the daytime, or should we leave as soon as possible?”

…They all had school in the day. Even Jazz was still in high school. Danny eyed Bruce doubtfully. He did know about school, right? “Night is probably better.” 

“I’ll make a few calls.” Bruce sat back and seemed to flip a switch into planning mode.

“Text!” Cass said, disagreeing strongly. She rolled her eyes, but it wasn’t too mean. “Grandfather Bat.”

“Oh!” Danny startled. “Um, I should contact Sam and Tucker. So that they know to expect you.” 

Bruce balked. “We don't normally contact civilians about ongoing investigations…” He looked constipated about it.

Danny crossed his arms. He wanted to think it was stubbornness more than self comfort. “You're not going to like, creep up on my friends. If they want to go, they need some time to get ready.” 

“Preparing could give away the plan to observers.” 

“Is Amity Park Batman's domicile?” Cass asked archly. “Batdad.” She put both her hands on his desk and leaned forward to give her father an unimpressed look. “Mayor of Amity Park?”

Bruce snorted and then covered his mouth guiltily. “Point taken.” He cleared his throat, trying to retain some dignity. “Danny, do you need help to contact your friends?” 

He shrugged. “Just a computer.” Danny fiddled with the strings on his hoodie. Tucker's hoodie. “I know you gave me a phone, but we thought -”

“That communications might be intercepted,” Bruce said, nodding as if that kind of paranoia was commonplace. “It's the first thing I would do if I expected a person of interest to contact a friend. What's your workaround?”

Danny bit his lip. It sounded stupid when he said it aloud. 

Ten minutes later, Damian joined Cass in her perch on the back of the sofa and watched with morbid curiosity as Danny joined Doomed chatroom after chatroom, scanning for Sam's username. “She’ll leave it running whenever she's home in case I ping her,” Danny defended weakly. He left another chatroom. 

Damian hummed, two pitches that came off incredibly doubtful. He had a gift for that.

“No, really, this- yes!” Danny pumped a fist and sent a HEY ITS YA BOI message. 

It took seconds for Sam to get to it and add his temporary account as a friend. She sent a DM before he could and then ignored his response to start a voice chat. 

Once he'd confirmed to her satisfaction that he was himself and that he hadn't gotten any deader in Gotham, he passed on the information that the friggin Batman was going to stop by Amity and wanted to check in. “But don’t worry, he’s kinda cool,” Danny added. “I gotta go. I am starving.”

Sam said all the rude words that she knew in quick succession. Damian looked sort of impressed. “Fine,” she said, obviously annoyed about it. “I’ll meet with Batman, but only because I hate the GIW more.”

“You hate Batman?” Damian asked. It was hard to tell from his tone if he had any feelings about that.

“That’s Damian,” Danny introduced. “He’s cool.”

“Hey,” Sam said shortly. “Yeah, he’s basically a cop. You have a problem with that?” Her voice went a little too aggressive.

“Just so you know, Damian is a child,” Danny said warily. 

Sam scoffed. “You said he’s cool. I respect him enough to fight him if he’s wrong.”

“Batman may be improved by your feedback,” Damian said idly, as if he wasn’t making trouble for his father on purpose. “You should be certain to give it to him as soon as you see him. Do you have time to prepare a presentation?”

Danny sniggered into his hand.

“I can reuse the posterboard from Current Events class, yeah.” Sam mused. “Good idea. Alright, thanks for the heads up. It’s really good to hear from you. We were starting to get worried here. You missed a check in, you know.” She was trying to sound tough, but there was a hint of strain.

Danny flushed. “Yeah, I had logistical difficulties,” he said, which sounded less pathetic than “I got robbed while I was sleeping outside and had no money to  use to access a computer.”

He ignored the thoughtful look he knew he was getting from Cass and signed off. He avoided making eye contact with anyone as he stretched, hands over his head. Then Danny put his hands on his hips and kind of stretched by rotating his back around. “Well, that’s done. Have fun with Sam, Uncle D.”

Damian made a hum in the back of his throat, eyes lost in thought. “I think I will.” Then he stalked away without a proper goodbye. Just a big housecat, that kid.

“Do you think Jason and Dick will be here soon?” Don’t ask, don’t ask, Danny silently hoped.

Cass looked at him for a long moment, silently weighing options and odds behind her dark eyes. Then she nodded. She turned on her heel and left, obviously expecting him to follow.  

Danny jogged to keep up. How did she move so fast without running? She had short legs, too. He was still busy pondering when they rounded a hallway corner and heard male voices from the entryway.

“Wait.” Cass shoved him the last step with a gentle palm press to the shoulder and then flitted back down the hallway.

“Hey, buddy,” Dick said.

Danny managed a nod in return. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket and tried not to look like he was hiding.

Jason all but oozed reassurance at him, without ever looking at him. As far as the eye could tell, the blonde was barely aware that Danny was present. But under the surface of his skin, his masses of ectoplasm were roiling with  a sort of proprietary indulgence. 

It was a kindness, probably, that the two men continued their conversation as if they were still alone. Danny didn’t really pay attention, thoughts consumed with  a mixture of nerves about his worlds colliding and sobbing relief that he might get really, genuinely full for the first time since he had to run away from Amity Park. He edged a little closer to Jason without thinking about it consciously. 

Cass arrived silently. Danny looked up as she entered the room only because he could sense her steady presence. “Time to go,” he said.

Jason startled with a very small jump. His expression instantly changed to exhausted resignation.

“Haha,” Cass said, pointing at him.

“Poor scared little guy,” Dick cooed. “You can’t sneak up on him like that.”

“Too scary,” Cass said, nowhere near as convincing as Dick at empathy.

Jason scowled. “Shut up,” he complained. He zipped up his jacket and yanked the door open. The sound of early crickets immediately cut into the house along with a fresh, cool breeze. “You both suck.”

Danny felt a faint smile pull at his face. He ducked his head and fell in, following at Jason’s heels. He didn’t look back to see who shut the door. 

Dick drove them all. They parked a few blocks away and made it across the barren, creepy fairgrounds in utter silence. Danny followed his instincts and the source that he’d sensed from kilometers away in the city center but had been too worn down to even try to trek to without at least feeding his human body.

“So, what now?”  Dick turned a cautious circle. “I didn’t exactly expect to see a physical object for you to eat, but I did sort of expect something.”

Danny made a face. “If I had the right tech I could filter and extract it out of the air, condense it into a really dense, liquid form. But, uh.” He turned a little to the side to avoid eye contact and hunched into his hoodie. “I sort of need to just hang out and…filter feed.” He grimaced. He sounded like a dumb fish.

“Inefficient,” Cass observed.

He nodded. “Yeah, but I’m really drained, so I need to be around a high concentration to get a jumpstart. If I needed less, I could probably just…” Danny made a circle gesture and sort of pointed at Jason. “Hang around him, I guess.”

Cass hummed in the back of her throat. “Perimeter.” Then she ran directly at a wall and hefted herself up onto the roof of the derelict funhouse. She was out of sight in seconds, which was impressive athleticism. Danny watched her go with raised eyebrows.

Dick huffed and shuffled even closer to Jason, clearly wary of Cass. “You can’t be the favorite uncle,” he lamented. “That should be me.” Danny choked down a laugh and pretended to be very busy filter feeding.

“You’re just crabby because you aren’t full of delicious ghost juice,” Jason muttered into Dick’s ear at a volume that he clearly thought Danny wouldn’t hear. The banter didn’t stop him from making periodic glances around the area. He caught an elbow to the gut from Dick for the comment and the inattention. Danny took a step further away from jabbing range.

“We aren’t here to hear you brag about how juicy you are,” Dick said out of the side of his mouth. 

EW. But Danny felt smug satisfaction in Jason’s aura at that answer, so apparently it wasn’t as nasty sounding to him as it was to Danny. He made a blegh face, scraping his tongue against his teeth.

‘Maybe I should tell them at some point that I have better than human hearing.’ He pointedly wandered a few steps further away and pretended to be occupied with sniffing out the highest concentration of ectoplasm.

Jason grinned unpleasantly. “No, I usually have that conversation with all of your exes- oof.” Jason bent over and tried to breathe through the hit to his diaphragm.

Danny did his best to ignore the commentary from the peanut gallery. He took deep breaths and tried to keep an eye on all the shadows. 

Amusement Mile wasn’t saturated with high quality ectoplasm like Amity Park, but nothing ever should be. Danny licked his lips and tried to stay alert. There could be any number of distressed or territorial dead around a place like this. It was eerily still. 

“This place is just plain creepy.” Danny hid a shudder. “What happened here?”

Jason huffed a laugh with absolutely no joy in it. “It’s more like what keeps happening here.” Danny glanced over at just the right angle to realize that Jason had a gun in his pocket. Holy shit. A gun. His eyes went wide.

“But nothing should happen tonight,” Dick cut in. His eyes looked tight and tense in a way that his breezy tone didn’t hint at. “The person who likes to use this area as a staging ground is currently in lockup. We double checked before we came out here.”

All three of them tensed when Cass jumped back down off the same building she’d climbed earlier. “Suspicious,” she said flatly.

Dick and Jason instantly lost their facades of ease. Danny realized, a bit late, that this place was really fucking concerning even to the living. “What’s wrong?” Dick snapped out. His posture changed and somehow his shoulders looked broader. Alarmed, Danny glanced between the adults.  

“Someone was here.” Cass held up a very familiar piece of tech. “Inside vent.”

Danny felt the blood drain out of his face. Cass zeroed in on the expression. “GIW,” he said. “Uh, that measures… that senses ghosts.” He licked his lips. “I think we should go.”

“Are you- are you going to be hungry?” Jason’s brow furrowed fiercely. “You think they might have an alert that you came out here?”

“We are more capable than we look.” Dick promised. And his serious voice was pretty reassuring, actually, all things considered. But Danny still felt like he was going to be sick. 

 Tires screeched. It was too late to get out of here.

[lo1k-diamonds]

Bubbles 💜 Part 1

SX Seoul Series | Jungkook's Entry

For better or worse, all they had were rumors while you had memories.

PAIRING: Jungkook x Reader

SUMMARY: You're back in town, and your first stop on a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes.

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

GENRE: Exes to lovers, smuuuuuut, angst, making up

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: alcohol (nobody is drunk), explicit sexual content, protected sex, including in public, oral (both), angry sex (Jungkook is really angry), body worship, orgasm denial, spanking, slight degradation, mirror sex, dirty talk, and rough cause you are both hurt

A.N. I finally edited this properly and added more warnings to the TW. I have to say that this is still one of my favs, especially as an exes to lovers fic. It's steamy and hot and so much pain but feelings and 😫🔥 Enjoy 😚 (Thank you @eerieedits for the cool banner 💜)

PARTS: >[1]< [2] [3] [4]

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad

You smiled at the bouncer on your way inside the club and brushed a strand of dark hair behind your ear. Your friend group called you to follow them, interrupting you as you got lost looking around the newest club in Itaewon. It was purposefully dark with red neon lights in wavy lines flowing toward the dance floor, but not before a huge sign with black and white stripes coaxed your attention with promises, expanding over the several floors: SX.

“Come along.”

You smiled at Youngjoo and followed her and her friends to a reserved area not too far from the bar. The Tech House music made your rib cage hum comfortably as you sat on a couch.

Youngjoo suddenly gasped and tapped your leg for attention. “I know the bartender on our side tonight! I’ll go say hi for a second!”

You nodded and watched her go as you leisurely took the space around you. The other girls were chatting, cross-checking who was there tonight and who they knew. You were used to hanging out with girls like them — fun and wild at parties and clubs. However, you could only assume because you didn’t know them well. You were away for a while but trusted your dearest friend, Youngjoo, to keep good company around.

Either way, you were there to have fun and enjoy being back home. You took a deep breath, the familiar scent of sweat and alcohol latching itself onto your skin before you even contemplated dancing. Everyone else was already doing it, flowing like a perfect wave in that crowd, and you’d join them soon enough.

The lights flashed all around to the generous beat, making you tap your foot, and you contemplated getting up without waiting for your best friend when you saw him. Fully dressed in black in a way that avoided light and dancing so closely with a girl, your guts burned with furious envy.

“Right? I’ve heard about him,” a girl gushed to your right. “He’s very hot.”

“You’re joking, look at that sleeve,” another replied, and your eyes immediately traced his arm. It was fuller now. “I wanna ride it bad.”

“Do you think he has other tattoos?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” one answered, and they all giggled and laughed around. Your eyes never diverted from him or the way he was dancing with that girl, firm hands gripping her waist over a sparkly, deeply cleavaged top.

“But you know, I’ve heard he fucks without kissing. Without even acknowledging you.”

Finally, your eyes turned to the girl sharing all the gossip, and you wondered how she knew that.

“First-hand experience?” you asked with a teasing smile, just making conversation. They didn’t have to know how truly interested you were in knowing.

“No,” she replied. The other girls turned to hear more, and you could see they were all charmed by the picture the girl was conjuring. “Not my kind of thing.”

The other girls teased her for a moment while you paid them little mind.

“Yeah, right. Look at him,” another one laughed openly. 

“He’s fucking sexy and has this cute smile,” one said, almost wantonly. She was possibly voicing everyone else’s thoughts. “Face it, who wouldn’t want to touch those curls?”

“He can get any girl on her knees.”

“And a bad boy? Get serious. We’d all be lining up.”

“What if he changes?”

“What if I’m the one?”

They all giggled except you, starting to regret not having a drink in your hand.

“Guys like him don’t change.”

“Actually.” The girl with the gossip leaned forward. “Rumor is he was in a committed relationship and that when she dumped him, he did a one-eighty and never dated seriously again.”

Youngjoo approached you all with a tray of shots and a wide grin. “Who’s not dating seriously?”

“Whoa, what a bitch,” one replied, leaning forward to grab a glass.

“Who would waste that?”

“If I could tap that, I’d hook him around my little finger.”

Youngjoo looked at you quizzically, and you twitched the corners of your mouth. You also grabbed a shot glass while the gossip girl explained everything to your best friend. Her eyes shot to yours in an instant, but you were purposefully avoidant.

“What’s his name anyway?” one of them asked, turning her back on the dance floor so you could toast.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

Your eyes immediately fell back on him, and you ignored your best friend’s worried looks. You cheered with the girls to a good, steamy night and drank the shot without much thought. It burned on its way down, but you were already burning from before, so no biggie. Who cared who he danced with? You were there to have fun, too.

Youngjoo called your name with a tinge of worry, and all you did was smile. “I’ll go grab another round.”

You got up and adjusted your short strapless dress to make sure it covered your ass before trying to get in between the crowd. You didn’t have to go as far as entering the crowd to reach the bar, but you couldn’t control your curiosity. As you moved closer to your target, you could see how he seemed taller, more built, and more buff. He had let his hair grow longer, curling wildly around his ears, giving him an edge you liked a lot. Your lower belly was tingling already as you eyed him with hunger, especially those firm hands. Yet, you did nothing but look, swerving to find your way to the bar counter.

Your temperature had risen considerably by the time you leaned against the bar, waving your hand in front of your face and chest. Still, as you waited for the bartender's attention, you couldn’t help but glance back at the dance floor.

It took you a few seconds to finally notice something wasn’t right. The girl he was with was waving something small and flat between two fingers that she hid quickly, and whatever it was got him angry. You knew that disgusted lip pull, and it made you smile.

He turned away from the girl, and you instantly faced the bar, giving the whole scene your back. You were curious, hot, and bothered by the mere fact that he was there, that you got to see him, that there was a possibility that you would talk. It had been a while. You shouldn’t be curious, but the tingly sensation down your stomach wasn’t interested in shouldn’ts.

Then and there, you almost took a deep breath and committed to not looking his way the rest of the night. Your curiosity shouldn’t be enough to rouse old ghosts. Besides, the girls gossiped way too much, so you had all the information you could need, and there was no need for your paths to intersect.

But it was hard to resist the temptation to take one more peek, so you turned to look, curious as to where he would be, and smiled. Only two people were between you and an outstretched arm with a full sleeve over the bar counter. He was too close to be ignored, and you just couldn’t.

You made your way to him, and luckily, the two people between you got their drinks and were ready to leave. Jungkook didn’t notice you getting near because the bartender was listening to his order, and you just leaned on the bar counter by his side.

“Order for me, too, will you?”

He turned to you, and his face was worth a million words. His lips parted to make way for air, but he wasn’t breathing, and that was when you noticed the lip ring. His skin was perfectly immaculate, the sweetness you’d recognize anywhere in the tender swell of his cheeks. Higher, his usually lovely eyes were wide in shock as he took in your presence. His eyebrows twitched, and you noticed another piercing, which, along with the new ones on his lip, made you smile as you leaned to support your head on your hand. He was still figuring out if you were a ghost while you were in Wonderland, wondering what had happened to all that sweetness.

“Here you go,” the bartender placed a whiskey cola on the counter, and you turned to him quickly before Jungkook could react.

“Can you get me one too, please?”

You were already waving your credit card, and the bartender acquiesced without wasting a beat.

It was the moment Jungkook needed to grab his drink and chug half of it like he was dying of thirst. Or maybe he just really needed a drink after seeing you.

“Thirsty are we?” you asked, reaching for the glass from his hand and taking a couple of sips while never breaking away from his darkened eyes. The ice-cold drink had you close your eyes for a second, thankful for the refreshing sensation down your chest. “You always liked them sweet.”

You placed his glass near his hand again before turning to smile at the bartender returning with your card and your drink.

“You’re here,” Jungkook said.

It wasn’t a question, and if you weren’t interested in reading his lips, you might have missed it. So you smiled, letting the nostalgia fill you up in a nice kind of way. You had missed the little twitches of his lips while he mused, or the way he scratched his nose bridge softly when he was embarrassed or at a loss.

“I am. How are you?”

His eyes focused on the drink as he scoffed at your question, downing the rest. 

That was the first time you doubted this could end well. There was a bitterness in his features that dragged yours out of the deepest corners of you, where you wished it would remain buried.

“Why are you here?”

Your lips twitched. “New club in Seoul.”

He sneered. “There were many new clubs in Seoul over the last year. Never crossed you before.”

“You know I wasn’t here.”

Your eyes locked, and yours had all the meaning they could have. You weren’t in Seoul, so you couldn’t have crossed paths before. But you were here now.

He looked down and licked his lower lip while kicking the bar pensively. You let him process that you were there in the flesh while you drank. When he looked up at you again, you caught his eye and passed him your drink. He took a second but grabbed it, turning to the bar to down it while you leaned into his ear.

“Dance with me.”

He looked out of the corner of his eye at you, and you pulled back, waiting. You weren’t as crazy as anyone could assume; you knew the options. He could outright laugh in your face and move away like you were a plague, and it would hurt, but you would understand. 

You kept your eyes locked on his, riding that heartbeat as you waited. You also knew he could take you up on that offer, dance with you, and who knew what else. The thought alone excited you, fueling your already heated body. It wasn’t about the mystery or the challenge or anything like that. You didn’t want him for any of those vain reasons. You wanted so much more.

He gave you a short nod and placed your empty glass next to his, now with only the ice left. You gave him a cheeky smile before entering the crowd, far away and in the center, so your best friend wouldn’t see you and advise you to think twice. What could you tell her? The moment fate challenged you with the chance to meet him, you instantly lost.

You never turned back to check if he followed; you just assumed. Stopping, you closed your eyes and got sucked in by the moment. The flashing lights, sweaty bodies, and thrumming music all around pulled you in, taking you to another time and place. One where you were free to want the impossible. You wanted his hands on you, his arms around you, his waist so close you’d be indistinguishable. You craved his presence, your lower belly tensing at the thought of it alone.

So when two firm hands grabbed your waist and pulled you back flush against a firm chest, all you could do was free-fall into him. Those arms snaking around you, going up your sternum like they owned you, were unmistakable. He pressed you by the chest, and you released a moan you knew he couldn’t have heard but surely felt.

He hid his nose in your hair, swaying you two to the beat, and you melted against him. He was always a good dancer, the way he rolled his hips to guide yours reminding you of far sweeter times. His hands mapped your curves over your skintight dress, then rested possessively on your hip and chest, and you thanked the dark, the loud music, the crowd, the alcohol, the moment. In those moments, the deepest desires came out, hiddenly and safely. Only the two of you knew: how he was brushing his nose and lips on your neck, and how you were grabbing his arms to close around you tightly.

“When did you come back?” His lips were so close to your ear that shivers ran down your neck.

“Two days ago.”

His arms around you had you losing yourself further and further. You couldn’t care less what the music was or where you were. All you wanted was that chance, and you were greedy.

“Are you alone?” he asked.

You sank your nails into his skin. “Youngjoo is here.” He didn’t react, but you knew he would have remembered your best friend. “Are you?”

You forced the words out of you. You almost didn’t want to know, especially after what the girls gossiped about. Maybe they were wrong, and he was dating someone seriously. But then he would have never been dancing with that girl before, so perhaps the rumors were true. And on that end, you had very mixed feelings.

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t move away either. You loved everything as it was: every inch of his skin glued to yours, his lips ghosting your neck, his hands seconds away from groping you and making you beg.

But eventually, you needed more. You needed an answer. You’d beg, gladly, but not if he had his mind on someone else.

So you turned in his arms, the short dress allowing you to easily glue your bodies together as you hid near his ear. “Answer me,” you coaxed, brushing his neck with your fingers, then grazing his scalp with your nails. 

You leaned in, his sweat not bothering you for an instant. It reminded you of what it was like to feel him that close while on his lap. When he would fuck into you, sweetly and strongly until every breath was a moany whimper, and you’d bury your fingers just like that to keep him close. His scent would invade your nose then and envelop you tightly in everything Jungkook until all that was left was his coarse words tensing the coil in your—

He breathed near your ear, and you froze. But he said nothing, and so you sighed.

“Answer me,” you asked again. This time, you nuzzled his ear and pressed yourself even closer. “Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you’re by yourself, that you have no plans, no one waiting at home, and nothing stopping you from doing this,” you let out all your deepest desires, carried out by that close and delirious moment. 

His hand pressed up your spine and nape of your neck as you spoke until it latched onto your hair, but it didn’t pull you away. You had moved by yourself to be as close as you could, breaths fanning each other’s faces as you waited for his reply. 

You waited and longed, and tried not to rub your body flush against that familiar warmth that you were craving like the air you breathed. Unmistakably, your body betrayed you by leaning closer and closer until your noses brushed briefly, and that was when you felt the pull. 

His hand pulled your head back by your hair, and you opened your glistening eyes, teeth deep into your lower lip with utmost desire, only to find his dark eyes and rigid expression. 

It was enough to shake you and put out everything you wished had stayed hidden in the open: he was angry.

Suddenly, you remembered very well the last time you saw him. How much it hurt him, and you. How much of a coward you had been. How much you didn’t deserve a drop of his attention, let alone his time, touch, or warmth.

He let you go slowly as memories you thought no longer haunted you came rushing back, making you swallow a lump. But you still smiled, because how could you not? He was angry, so very clearly, and you deserved it.

Your bodies were finally separated, and despite the happiness in your chest at having had the chance to see him, your knees were weak and your legs wobbly. You couldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” you voiced, hoping that your expression conveyed how much you meant those words. For now. For before.

And you turned to leave with a deep breath. Were you running away? Yes. Both from the anger you saw in his eyes and your regret. From the risk of being rejected head-on, which you knew you had coming. But you were never brave, so you couldn’t face it. You could even agree he deserved to have the pleasure, but you were far too selfish to let him have it. No. You’d remain the bitch who dumped him and couldn’t face the consequences, which was precisely why you were leaving. 

It was chilly outside, but it didn’t matter; you were too hot from all the emotions — the excitement and shame and regret. You stepped onto the street where you knew that you’d eventually catch a taxi dropping people off among the cars stopping and passing. So you took out your phone to text your best friend that you were leaving.

You had just hit send when someone grabbed your arm, and you offered resistance, ready to fight whoever dared to try to grab you so rudely like that.

Familiar dark eyes met yours, and you instantly let your body fall to his chest. His jawline was firm as he clenched it, with angry eyes on a stiffening face, but you still allowed yourself to get drawn in like a magnet to a polar opposite. You knew he was mad, knew he had reasons to hate you, treat you worse than the girls he fucked without kissing or acknowledging, but fuck were you—

He stepped back and dragged you along, and you offered no resistance. You had no idea where he was taking you as he walked you down the street, tightly by the arm, hiding his grip between you as you walked. You looked up at him, ignoring whether you’d trip and fall with such high heels. He looked angry, and you cursed yourself for thinking he looked hot as hell. 

He pulled you into a dimly lit back alley that led to a residential area and stopped you in a hidden corner covered by a parked car. Your back hit the wall, and you looked up at him while passing the chain strap of your handbag over your head so it wouldn’t be in the way. 

That thought repeated itself — he looked hot as hell. You didn’t like that he was angry with you, but that tension on him was sexy as fuck, and you wanted to be the one to relax him. To let him take out his frustration until he was vulnerable and sweet, like you always remembered him.

Those were the thoughts in your mind when you raised your hands to touch him, but he slapped your hands away harshly. You didn’t have time to react, but a second later, he caged your face in his hands and crashed his mouth to yours, pressing you between him and the wall. 

The cold wall was nothing when you were burning inside out. His mouth was hungry on yours, and you paid him back in kind, getting your tongue to meet his just as eagerly. Your hands gripped his shoulders closely while you tried not to let the lightheadedness get you, but it was too late. All you wanted was happening right now, you’d keep kissing him and reaching for him until the end.

His hands lowered to your curves as his lips trailed down your jawline, and you moaned when he squeezed your chest harshly. You pulled him closer; you wanted it all, and when he ground his erection to your hip, all you could think to do was beg.

“Yes,” you breathed, feeling how hard he was through both your clothes, from head to base. “Fuck me right now. Please.”

His lips quickly pressed to yours, whether to shut you up or not, you couldn’t tell. Either way, he gave you enough space to reach his waist, unbutton his pants and grab his cock firmly. He rutted your hand with wanton groans into your neck, and you felt like the world was yours. If you could have him, then you wouldn’t complain or whine ever again. If that thick cock would stretch you again like you wished so badly, then you’d shut up about everything wrong in this world because absolutely nothing would be wrong ever again.

Maybe he heard your prayers because suddenly he grabbed your hips and tapped them for you to instinctively jump on his lap. You supported yourself on his shoulders while he kissed you and let you play with his lip rings, rolling your tongue over them. Meanwhile, you could feel but not exactly know what he was doing at your waist level in between your two bodies. Only when he put the condom wrap near his mouth so he could rip it open with his teeth did you realize there was a good reason to interrupt your make-out session. 

You let him have his focus while he put it on, lazily brushing your lips over his forehead. Eventually, he searched for your panties, only to rudely pull them to the side and push himself inside you. You groaned with a hint of a whine at the burn, but soon he made you jump on his lap, shoving his cock fully inside you, and you let your head fall back. Fuck, had you missed this.

You didn’t have time to let the pleasure reach every corner of you, but your enjoyment was not cut short. His hips snapped into yours, and your chin dropped, eyes hooded when you realized that was how you were going to have him. He did it again, grabbing your shoulder and hip to stay in place, and the corners of your mouth twitched. You almost smiled before biting your lip as he started a paced rhythm that didn’t give you a second’s rest. 

His angry eyes were on you as the slaps echoed into the night along with your stifled moans until you couldn’t bother to hold back anymore. Who cared if someone found Jungkook fucking your brains out? You wanted him to, dreamed of it, remembered it, and wished on all your lucky stars that you would one day feel that way again. And now? Fuck if you cared who caught you. That thick cock ramming into you was the sweetest thing—

He grabbed your hair to pull you to kiss him, and you kept on moaning into his mouth. His tongue didn’t meet the reception he wanted, and you blamed the way he was fucking into you so hard you couldn’t even breathe right. Maybe it aggravated him, or it just gave him his next idea, but in a second, he was kissing down your neck, which had you grabbing his head close so he would keep going.

Suddenly, he yanked the upper part of your dress, and as it didn’t have stripes, the elastic gave in and let the fabric slide. He did the same on the strapless bra, not stopping his hips for a second, until your chest was out in the open, bouncing with every thrust.

He buried his face between your tits, licking and biting for a moment in which you knew you were dripping slick down both him and you. You fucking loved it. Your mind was so up in the clouds, you couldn’t be bothered to come down. At least until he did something that shook your heart.

He tightened your legs around his waist and leaned at a special angle. It allowed him to hold you firmly against the wall and fuck you in a way that rubbed your clit just like you loved it. Instantly, the way he reached deep inside you had you moaning breathlessly. Then he straightened up, carefully perfecting his movements until your mouth was open, and you were jumping on his lap with him to the best of your abilities. He knew he had you in the right spot by the way you were squirming, but desperate to stay close, moaning and completely lost, trying to sink your nails into his skin, but weak to the sensations, leaving you adrift. He reveled in that, with such pride swelling inside him, he didn’t know what to do with himself aside from grabbing both your tits and squeezing them harshly.

He felt the way you tensed around his cock, and he knew he had you. With every snap of his hips, your eyes flustered further, your moans became breathy, and your legs pulled him more in. He knew he could squeeze you to the point it bruised without as much as a whimper, but he stayed clear from doing it, taking pleasure only in the way his cock was so deep inside you that he knew you’d never forget it.

You grabbed his hands over your chest, and then it hit you that only he could do you like this. Only he knew every little thing that you liked, only he knew how to grope and squeeze without hurting you, only he knew exactly how to fuck you into oblivion every time. Because it was him.

Fuck, it’s him. After so long—

You tried reaching for him, but your hands dropped to his shoulders as you let the orgasm shake you and steal away your inhibitions if there ever were any. You closed your eyes and felt his body press closer to you, almost as if to hide you from the world, as you moaned and cursed him for releasing you like this. He fucked you through it, then hid in your neck when it came to his climax, grunting and holding you tightly. You grinned and petted his head when he stilled, blissful with him tucked deep inside you again.

Until he cursed into your neck, and you weren’t sure if it was out of giddiness, delight, relaxation, or relief like it would have been for you, or if it was because he was pissed at himself.

When he let you down a bit more abruptly than you anticipated, you were forced to believe it was the latter.

He turned to the side to get rid of the condom, and you took the time to put your bra and dress back in place. When he turned back to face you, you had already grabbed your bag from the floor and were just looking at him. Your lips quivered — he looked so fucking handsome with that spark in his eyes. 

He cursed, then ruffled his hair before looking at you again. “I’ll take you home.”

You raked your hair neatly back and pursed your lips. “I’m staying at Youngjoo’s. I don't have a place yet, so we… wouldn’t have privacy.”

He openly snorted. “You're assuming I want seconds.”

You sighed with a light shrug. “Isn't that what we just did?”

His derision fell through as his features hardened again, but you didn't argue. You did what you did and didn't regret it for a second. You were both adults, and he followed you. There was no point in pretending you didn't want each other. That was what you asked for and what he had given you, whether that made him angry or not.

But you didn't want to antagonize him. You gave him a short nod. “It's okay, I can—”

He clicked his tongue and gave you a dry look before giving you a nod to follow him. You considered whether you should — if your presence made him so angry, maybe you shouldn't. But tonight you were giving zero fucks about shouldn’ts. You were doing what you wanted, and what you wanted was your hands on him for as long as possible. 

So when he stopped next to a red motorcycle and opened the seat compartment to get you a helmet, you smirked. You wouldn't tell him, but you missed that — hugging him while he sped between every obstacle, and your hair flowed behind you with the wind. When you were free to go mad fast, but remained safe, as only he made you feel.

He sat first, putting on his helmet expertly and starting the motor in a well-rehearsed move. You had seen him do it before, when you were still together, but there was a certain magic to it. Even if some things changed, he didn’t.

He leaned his head ever so slightly to glance at you, and you smirked, finally getting on behind him and gripping him firmly. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you were feeling daring, and he looked back. He checked on you, despite the derision and silence. You took the small win.

“You remember where Youngjoo lives?” you asked in a bit of a shout as he looked at the road to finally get going.

He didn’t answer you, but seeing the direction he took, you immediately assumed he remembered. And with this, you allowed yourself to lean closer, wrap your arms tighter around his torso, and relax. You inhaled his scent unapologetically by sticking your face into his shoulder; the helmet was big, so he surely felt it. You palmed his chest and torso over his leather jacket; you hoped he wouldn’t get too distracted. You were petty, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop and get angry with you or snap your hands away. This was perhaps the last chance you’d ever have to touch him, so you did. Wrong or right, it didn’t matter to you. You’d remember this and all the little sensations later, and you’d be happy you did.

You were lulled by his warm body and the purr of the motor, so you paid little attention to where you were going. All you knew was that when he stopped and pushed a button for a communal garage to open at the foot of an apartment complex, it was not Youngjoo’s place.

He rode more softly through the cars parked underground until he found his spot and stopped. You didn’t ask questions, you didn’t need to. You stepped off the bike and handed him your helmet, and he took it and put it back, both of you quiet. You made sure to remain quiet as you followed him, small as a mouse, into the elevator lobby. Then, you got inside one, and he pressed the seventh floor. Even when the doors closed with only the two of you there, you stayed quiet.

Your mind was roaring about him bringing you to his place, and the only reason he would have to do that. Your chest could have exploded, especially since it confirmed he didn’t have someone. With every passing minute ever since you laid eyes on him, it felt like you were living a dream. Only in dreams did you think you’d ever have the chance of being near him, so no matter what, you were winging it. Living the moment, even if all of this turned out to be an angry fuck, you’d gladly get on your back.

He typed the code to unlock an apartment door, and you followed him inside. You left your cheekiness outside, promising to take things as you went. He threw the motorcycle keys on a table you couldn’t see because it was dark and turned on the lights, making you hold your breath. He had moved to that place, that much was certain, but this space didn’t remind you of Jungkook like you expected it to.

You had only taken one step to peep into his home, you meant to turn back and take your shoes off as it was respectful to do, but he was a step ahead. You moved out of the way to switch places with him right after he got his jacket on the hanger, but he had something else in mind. His hands followed you to your waist, and as soon as you looked up, eager lips searched for yours.

You instantly melted against the wall, hands raising to run through his hair as you let yourself dive into that contentment again. While you were relaxed, he was clearly impatient. His palms traced your curves in wide but quick movements, so firmly you knew you could have already been naked, he was learning the same. His tongue was inside your mouth almost as quickly as his body pressed to yours, stealing your thoughts and any possibility you ever had to change your mind. Not that you would, and you were sure he knew that. Your hands were grabbing him close, your breathing was heavy and dragged, and you weren’t fighting his kiss in the slightest, on the contrary. Your tongue was inviting him in, and your body was arching to expose more skin. You were taking what you could and giving back whatever he wanted.

But then he broke the kiss and looked down, forcing you to also stop. You looked at him under wanton fluttering lashes, only to find him with that same stiff and reticent expression you had seen before. 

Your first heartbeat stung — you could guess why he was hesitating, and there was nothing you could do about it now.

The second revolted you — you were there, weren’t you? In his house? He brought you here, so why worry? Why hesitate? Why overthink?

The third got you annoyed — if he was that hesitant, why bring you there in the first place? Why bother?

The fourth riled you up, and that was when you spoke, “What’s wrong?”

He refused to look up at you, but never moved away.

His breathing calmed down, and you spoke without thinking, “Changed your mind?”

His eyes finally found yours, and you saw his anger. And again, like a well-rehearsed exercise, all you could think was how you were right there.

“I’m here,” you said quietly, reaching for the curling hair strands behind his ear.

He didn’t move, his eyes fixed on the corner of your lips, and you knew he was forcing himself to stay put like this.

“I can leave,” he finally said. “You can sleep here, and I can leave.”

“Why?”

He looked up at you as you let your head fall back to the wall.

“This is your place, why leave?”

His jaw tensed, and you could swear you saw a vein pulsing.

You sighed. “You brought me here, so here I am. What do you want to do? Fuck me until morning? Gladly. Just sleep? I’m sure you have a big bed. Drink until we pass out? I’m down. Talk?” His eyebrows twitched, and she nodded. “Not sure how that would work, but we can. Or not. I won't say another word if you don’t want me to. Just stop this internal struggle of yours. Do what you want to do.”

You were as comfortable as could be between him and the wall and just waited for his decision. Your eyes stayed on his pensive expression, taking in the little details before lowering to his broad shoulders and biceps. He was definitely more buff now, and you wondered if it changed things a lot or—

“You can shower first,” he said.

He backed away from you, and you couldn’t help but sober up. He looked almost apologetic, hiding something deep inside while showing you something you could only call a mask.

But you knew him. All those women thirsting after him, wishing they could make him smile and fall for them, didn’t know him like you did. For better or worse, all they had were rumors while you had memories.

So you nodded and walked towards the bathroom, but not before turning around halfway. “Please, don’t leave.”

The look you gave him was enough — pleading, whereas his eyes flickered with an emotion you had not yet seen on him tonight. But even if you wanted to press and ask, you didn’t. At the end of the day, it was still his choice, and you were well aware of it.

You took a calming shower, cleaning the sweat and alcohol from your skin with a shower gel that smelled of him, and wondered what your next step should be. You ended up deciding that if he had left despite your request, you would call a taxi and go back to Youngjoo’s. You honestly hoped, as you toweled yourself, that he would tell you to leave and be clear about it, instead of leaving to give you space at the expense of his comfort.

You glanced around the bathroom and ignored your discarded dress and heels in the corner, searching for something else instead. Your eyes fell on a black tee thrown over the laundry basket, but that didn’t quite make it in. You grabbed it and brought it to your nose, shutting your eyes instantly with a longing scrunch of your face — it smelled of him. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the mess of feelings inside your chest, but the tears in your eyes were enough.

You quickly put the t-shirt on, looking at yourself in the mirror. He always enjoyed oversized clothes, which could fit two of you. Your lips curved as you smoothed the fabric over your stomach, his scent gracing your senses every time you took a breath. Nothing beat that comfort.

You turned to leave the bathroom and hoped to find Jungkook still there. You hoped he’d let you keep the tee, though you wouldn’t be opposed to taking it off if it meant it was replaced with his strong arms—

The scent of coffee hit your nose instantly once you were in the living room, and your brow furrowed. Not because it was coffee, Jungkook liked coffee, but because of what it could mean.

When you neared the kitchen, your guts twisted. You saw a fuming mug on the counter, and the cinnamon smell instantly brought tears to your eyes. That plus the bottle of soy milk and the honey pot pushed to the back told you many things: he had those things he never really drank before lying around, remembered your favorite latte, and had made it for you.

Your eyes were instantly drawn to him. He was looking outside the kitchen window with his back toward you, and by the intense coffee scent around him, you knew before he turned that he was having a black espresso.

He looked at you, and your guts fluttered; all you could do was look into his eyes while your fingers gripped the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing. You were tearing up in a way you couldn’t control; everything was too much. He didn’t leave. You were there, in his life, in his home, wearing his clothes, about to have your favorite drink that he prepared for you because he still remembered how. That meant he had to care, even if just a little, and you didn’t know what to say.

Your chin trembled, but before you could voice anything, he finished his coffee, put the empty cup in the sink, and passed you to enter the bathroom. The door merely clicked closed, and you covered your eyes, trying to reel your emotions back in. You neared the counter to grab your coffee and as soon as the taste hit your tongue, your heart shook, creasing lines between your eyebrows as you teared up.

You didn’t want to have hope, but your stupid heart was turning a deaf ear. You never had hope before; you knew you fucked up and never handled things properly. Just for the way you hurt him, you knew you didn’t deserve any kindness. You scoffed at yourself and drank more to have the comfort of that warmth down your chest as if it came straight from him. You knew, and it made no sense, but you were still there and willing to delude yourself for a moment longer.

So you took the mug and the opportunity to look around while you heard the shower faintly in the background. His place was bigger now, and you looked around with a smile on your face. He had the same black leather couch, the same gray bean bag, and the same shoebox by the entrance. The fact that he had a projector screen instead of a TV made you smile; he spoke for ages about wanting to do that if he ever moved out of his previous place. But as you took in the rest of the apartment, your smile broke a little.

On the corner was a barbell weight set, dumbbells, a pull-up bar, and resistance bands. He used to work out before, but now you knew why he looked bigger — he definitely worked out more. You pursed your lips with the sweet latte comforting you as you sipped it slowly; you didn’t want to think about why he was making that effort.

You moved on to take a look at his desk, interested in what he was working on, and you stilled. He still had his gaming keyboard, mouse, and desktop, but now he had books about photography on the desk. He always liked photography and filmmaking, but the new camera and microphone spoke volumes about what he was currently working on. You searched around for the easel he’d always have with a recent work in progress or his sketch notebook, but you couldn’t find them, so you pressed your lips. You loved it when he sketched you, always when you least expected it, showing you beautiful versions of yourself that you only started believing in because of him.

You finished the coffee, eager for the sweet taste to link you back to him, and wondered what happened to—

You turned when you heard the bathroom door open; you never noticed he had stopped showering. Your thoughts tripped over themselves at the sight of him: wet raven hair ruffled by a towel long abandoned somewhere, dark eyes set on you as if he wanted to make sure he was seeing right, soft golden skin covering broad shoulders, big arms, and chest, leading to firm abs that were always there, but not as marked. Your eyes lowered, but the black towel hung on to his hip like you could only envy.

You raised your eyes to find him serious, looking at you, with tense features on a tense body. 

“Thank you.” You smiled at him, waving the empty mug before placing it on the kitchen counter. Despite his demeanor, you swallowed a lump at the sight of him walking towards you. “It’s my favorite—”

You weren’t startled when he grabbed your head and crashed his mouth to yours. You were praying for it to happen, and the burn running down your chest from the way your mouths tried to consume one another had you melting instantly. You wanted him, you weren’t hiding it, and whatever way he wanted to touch you worked as long as he did. As long as those lips pressing yours covered all of you. As long as his tongue fighting yours spelled your pleasure at his whim, while his fingers pressed marks only he could find.

You held onto his broad shoulders, instantly feeling your knees wobbly, and he pulled you to stay up straight. He wanted your focus on your kiss, and you didn’t mind, but the temptation to grab him and scratch him was overriding your senses. You gripped his shoulders for support, finally sinking your nails into the soft muscle as he nibbled your bottom lip.

Your ass hit something and when he pushed you to get on it, you just briefly freed one hand to get rid of whatever was on the dining table. You moaned with the bites he was leaving down your neck, while you focused on keeping him close with your legs wrapped around him. He fumbled with the t-shirt to get his hands on you and quickly grabbed your chest in a push-and-squeeze motion that had you moaning and humping him. Fuck, you missed this. No one could ever mess you up like he could; you always turned into a whimpering, wet mess with him.

He scratched down your stomach to your hips, squeezing them harshly, then pulled away. He grabbed the hem of your t-shirt, and you raised your arms instantly to let him strip you.

Then, he stepped back and threw the shirt on the floor, hungry, dark eyes observing you from head to toe.

“Fuck, look at you.”

A subtle line showed between your eyebrows; his tone was abrasive in a way you weren’t expecting. But the way he got back between your legs while getting on his knees was in line with what you knew. He, in a praying position, tracing your skin with open-mouthed kisses while he groped and scratched every inch of your hips, was one of the reasons you couldn’t forget him. You couldn’t let go of what it felt like to be desired by that man. The thought alone had you wet and whimpering; the difference was that now you’d experience it again after only dreams and hopes.

His mouth kept tracing kisses on your inner thighs, just like he knew would drive you crazy, but you didn’t whine about it. No, you wanted it to last. Whatever he’d give to you, you wanted it. You weren’t beyond begging, but you wouldn’t with just a little bit of torture. No, you knew what that mouth could do, how his tongue could lap at the perfect rhythm. You could wait for perfection.

He slapped your ass on one side, opening your leg further with a whimper from you. He repeated the motion on the other side, and only then did you notice you were squeezing him between your legs. It made you smirk as you looked down — you could see his dark eyes with a few wet hair strands over them, the hint of teeth as he grazed your sensitive inner thighs. He could spank you all he wanted; you wanted him to. So you smiled and pressed your lips, clearly telling him you’d keep your mouth shut.

He bit down on your inner thigh, getting a deep moan from you. You were clenching around nothing, dripping with slick, quivering around his head, and you were sure he noticed.

“Since when are you so patient?”

He sounded annoyed, and you giggled wantonly, so fucking amused you couldn’t help it. “I’m patient when it’s worth it.” You could feel his hands pressing your skin, going to the swell of your ass to squeeze, and you nearly sighed. “I wouldn’t dare to rush perfection.”

He scoffed but dropped his mouth on you instantly, having all your cockiness evaporating on the spot. He ate you out like only he did, grabbing your squirmy self still while he made out with you. His tongue lapped at your clit in a fixed rhythm that you couldn’t explain, and seconds later you released every square inch of air from inside your lungs with a deep moan. He knew you liked a stable, slow rhythm, but keeping your thighs in place was irking you. It was right there! If only he’d let you move. Just a centimeter right— No! Just one or two to the left, and you’d be lost to those sensations you hadn’t felt in months.

You whimpered, but you couldn’t talk while he did that to you. You reached for his hands on your hips and squeezed them, both looking for support and for a way to be free. His humming to your core had you sucking in a breath, but what broke you were his words.

“Stay still, bubbles. Let me get you there.”

He licked you faster in a way that had you whimpering and tensing up like a coil about to spring. Every lap of his tongue increased your tension, pitched your moans, and stole your breath to a point you thought you’d explode. You sat up and grabbed his hair, ecstatic. It was him with his face half buried in you, eating you out, getting you there, calling you by your pet name like nothing changed.

That thought alone pushed you to the edge, and you hopped on the train. Steadily and surely, Jungkook would take you there, just like he promised. Just like you wished.

So you started moaning louder, half derailed. “Fuck, baby. Fuck, you’re so good.” You could barely breathe, but you wanted him to know how much you loved this. “Take me there, please, I’m—”

Your voice broke because you were suddenly cold. You were panting and shocked, but your first instinct was to look down at him and loosen your grip on his hair.

“Are you okay?”

He faced you quietly, with your slick covering his nose, mouth, and chin while his digits dug into your hips. Your worry clouded your judgement; you brushed his cheek in search of an answer that only came when he stood up and turned away. Then, you blinked back to reality and looked down and around. You were confused. Not because he stopped, but because he insisted on staying quiet and to himself.

You got up and were about to speak your mind when you saw that the towel had fallen to the ground. It was enough for you to succumb to the impulse to walk up to him and look down shamelessly — he was so hard, he was pointing at you. You raised your eyes and found his on yours, darker than before. He was tense and angry again, that was clear, but he was hard, having rubbed his hand over his face to clean your slick off him. But then, why was he licking his lips and lip rings, where your taste was probably stronger?

You took a deep breath and placed your hands firmly on his shoulders, pushing him steadily. He let you, walking back until his calves hit the sofa. There, you tapped his shoulders once and he sat down. His hands landed on your hips, tracing circles absentmindedly, and you leaned closer to pet his hair. His sweet caresses were enough to soothe you, to become sure of something you weren't sure you had the right to be sure of. But it didn't matter — he chose the wrong night to be indecisive. You were willing to choose for both of you.

You kissed his head before getting on your knees between his legs. In return, he gave you a dark, cold stare. With anyone else, you might have cowered, but not with him. With your hands over his legs, you waited a moment, but he never gave you clear permission, incentive, or rejection. So you took the option that suited you best and leaned in.

You trailed your lips over his soft and built thighs, kneading the firmness with a whimper caught in your throat. You kissed closer and closer, releasing sighs left and right and paying little to no mind to what he would think of you for it. You both had always been like this: crazy for one another, praising and worshiping as quickly as you would use and abuse. You had never had another relationship like it before or after, and to say you missed it would be an understatement.

But you weren’t going to sob over past mistakes right now. No, what mattered now was not to make a stupid mistake like missing out on kissing, licking, and scratching every inch of him until he either begged or complained, or you lost it.

You moved ever so closer to his crotch but stopped by his balls first, giving them wide-tongued licks that had him sighing. You glanced up to see his eyes closed, wet hair dripping down his shoulders — the first hint of relaxation. 

That’s it, you cooed in your mind. Fuck, did you miss seeing him falling apart. You craved it, and you’d make it happen.

You kept licking and kissing, and as you moved up his shaft, it occurred to you that it didn’t matter that you hadn’t cum. It didn’t matter that he had given up, or even why. You weren't opening your mouth around his tip and licking it with hunger because you wanted something in return.

You moaned as soon as his taste hit your buds, and your thoughts became a blur. Your head bobbed mindlessly, and you drooled all over him, using the expanse of your tongue on his tip, taking whatever you could no matter how because you fucking missed it. That taste, that hardness, the hand that came to grip your hair but remained light as a feather, until finally, you looked up. His eyebrows were knit in pleasure with his mouth agape, tongue peeking through, and licking his lip rings while grabbing your head in a firm yet loving gesture — that was it, the prize. He was finally relaxed as you bobbed your head and drooled all over him, and the perspective of making him weak exhilarated you in a way that had you going harder, firmer, stronger. You didn’t notice, but you were breathing in between his cock touching your throat, your cheeks stayed hollowed, and your hand accompanied your every move over his shaft while you played with his balls. When his precum invaded your mouth, all your thoughts went out the window.

You gripped his cock firmly and moaned all over it, adjusting your posture to focus even better. Fuck, did you want his taste in your mouth. You touched yourself to the thought of it before, of him, but now, there on your knees with his grunts finally adoring your ears, your focus was all on him. You could come later to the memory of that very moment, all he had to do was let go and shoot warm ropes of cum down your throat.

But he recoiled and guided your head away. You had no idea if he had pulled on your hair before, but you knew he never asked you to stop. The only sounds out of his mouth were grunts of pleasure, and you had seen his face — he was on cloud nine. He liked it, he was weak for it, for you and the way you did it, so why?

You looked up, an arched eyebrow quizzically raised, but he had his bicep covering his eyes while his chest heaved up and down. You were done with him stripping away everything you wanted from you, so you got up and got on his lap with a knee on either side of him. You thought he might have shooed you away or told you to get off, but no. His hands went instantly to support your hips to make sure you didn’t fall, and you were even more irked.

“Why?”

He opened his eyes, and the stiffness returned to his pleasant features. That had you pouting with tears in your eyes. Maybe you could figure out why he suddenly changed his mind, but you didn’t care — you leaned forward and brushed his cheek gently. He brought you there, and he wasn’t rejecting you; he was just conflicted. It was time he made a decision.

“Why push me away?” you insisted, gently letting your nail graze his cheek. 

He recognized that tone in your voice, and that was why he answered, “I was about to cum.”

“So?”

He didn’t answer, his eyes only hardened, and you looked down at his erect dick between you. There were so many things you could say, and so many paths to choose from. You could get angry, whiny, blow him anyway, ride him, and you considered every option. But you kept reverting to the anger behind those beautiful, dark eyes. And as you both faced each other, you knew why he was mad — because you hurt him the year before. Because what you were doing was likely the root of his inner turmoil. It sure could have also been for you if you didn’t still…

Well.

Your expression softened as you pressed your lips to his forehead. “Take it out on me.”

He didn’t move or respond, and you dragged your lips soothingly over his skin in small peppered kisses.

“Please,” you whispered. “Take it all out on me. I want you to.” You dragged your nails up his neck, and he leaned his head forward. “I need you to.”

His hands gripped your waist as he seemed to hide in your chest, and you sat closer to him. You petted his beautifully long hair and sighed when he pressed your lower back to keep you close. You smiled and kissed his head, taking that as a yes. So you waited like that until he decided how he would do it.

Your answer came when he glued his mouth to your chest and started nibbling down until he caught a nipple. You didn’t hide your sigh — he was a tits kind of guy, and he always loved yours, worshiping them in every sense of the word. And you had always loved him for it, and for the way he could leave you a moaning mess with his attention exclusively there.

So you hissed and sighed, with his mouth, tongue, and teeth driving you insane. To return the favor, you reached down in between your bodies and found his rock-hard dick. Your spit hadn’t dried yet, so you jerked him off gently through your moans.

You could feel him twitching in your hand. You knew he loved your tits and got lost in licking and biting them. You knew he got crazy when you played with him at the same time, playing with his weakness while truthfully wanting nothing more than for him to play with all of you.

So you whispered into his ear, “Come on. Take it out on me. Do it.” You gripped him a bit harder, earning a stronger bite from him that had you instantly hissing and clenching around nothing. “I want to feel you.” Your hand never stopped, and he seemed to be listening to you — only his tongue was moving. “Hard. Deep.”

You buried your nose in his hair and waited, never stopping your hand on him. You preferred if he fucked you senseless, but even jerking him off would be nice if that was his mood.

But you doubted it was, and indeed, it wasn’t. He let go of your abused nipple and faced you for a second. He didn’t comment on anything you said; he only grabbed you firmly by the hips and stood up, taking you with him.

You gasped mutely and hugged him firmly, only to realize that he was carrying you without an ounce of effort. He was truly stronger, which could mean he would fuck you harder—

He dropped you on his bed, making you whimper and your tits bounce, then he moved away. You sat up, worried about him just leaving, but then you tilted your head. He was adjusting a full-body mirror that was purposefully facing another wall to show the bed. You saw your reflection on it and mused over why he had that mirror set like that and took the time to change it. 

He neared you while putting on a condom, and you looked at him, breath slowing with the perspective of what would happen now. He traced a hand down your hip, and you lay back, but he immediately gripped both your sides and turned you around. You puffed, half annoyed, half melting at being handled like that, and got on all fours for him. You thought he’d toy with you and you’d patiently wait for what you wanted most, but he didn’t. He instantly put his cock at your entrance, and you groaned, gripping the sheets with the desire burning through you.

“You want it?” His tone was quiet but sure, almost cold. His hand struck your ass, but you only gave him a gentle moan. “Get it then.”

You bit your lip and moved back, opening your mouth with the familiar stretch that had you curling your toes. You went slowly, thankful for his resistance that allowed his cock to brave more and more, inch by inch, until you were full. You knew he wasn’t totally in, and he reminded you by jerking his hips once until he bottomed out. You gave him a little whine, and he chuckled.

“There. Didn’t think you had forgotten how I fucked you earlier, but I’ll remind you.”

He snapped his hips against yours, and you knew he wouldn’t be gentle, but you didn’t care. He was doing what you asked, finally connected to you, giving you the pleasure of your dreams. It didn’t matter if he treated you roughly; you asked for it. You wanted it, you needed it. Him, his anger, anything he would give you.

“Look at you,” he grunted before gripping your ass better. “I haven’t even started.”

You opened your eyes and tilted your head to face him through the mirror. You gave zero fucks about how vulnerable you were, needy, greedy, whimpering, and begging for more. No, you looked at him. At his focused expression, telling you this wasn’t as easy as he made it seem. At his flexed abs, tense thighs, and buff biceps. At his hand on your ass, squeezing. At his eyes moving from yours to verify your position — not only if you looked good, but at your knees and elbows sliding on the sheets. For your comfort. It had to be, right?

You were tucked into his grip, so when he went at it harder, you had nowhere to go. You took his hips slapping against you and moaned loudly, abandoned to the feeling that only he fucking you could tear out of you.

“Can’t take it?” His voice was mocking. “How’s that?” You couldn’t coherently answer. “Are you that desperate for a proper dicking?” 

“Wasn’t that what you did before?”

You barely got it out, but he heard you, not stopping for a second. “Clearly wasn’t enough. Your boyfriend must be doing a really sloppy job.”

His voice was tense. You wondered if bitterness was in the mix, but you were too high to think about it.

“No boyfriend. Maybe that’s the problem.”

His hand struck your ass so hard, you whimpered a cry. But in a second, he was rubbing that spot and gripping you closer, fucking you harder. It made you see stars, and you couldn’t get enough.

“So whiny,” he grunted, “so needy.” 

You scoffed. He was the one fucking you as hard as possible.

“Do you always moan like that?” You felt his nails on your hips, gripping you. “Any cock can get that noise out of you.”

You grinned. “No, only yours can.” You expected another slap, but it didn’t come. “Never met anyone who can fuck me like you.”

He smacked the other ass cheek harshly and gripped you so hard that the constant hit of his cock deep inside you almost short-circuited your brain.

“But you searched.”

He was speaking between gritted teeth, but you were in no condition to notice. “So did you.” Suddenly you could think enough to say, “Fucked how many right here, on this bed?”

He smacked your ass again, but looking through the mirror, you could see he wasn’t just angry now. His eyes were closed as he scrunched up his face as if it hurt. 

But you were too riled up to stop. “Looking for what? Any tight cunt?” He was getting sloppy, and you couldn’t shut up. “Or did you really think anyone else could get you this desperate?” You fucked yourself on his cock against his rhythm, and you could swear he growled. But who cared? He was snapping his hips to yours again. “Why so quiet?” His hand striking your ass had you arching for him, but not quieting down. “Tell me. Do you cream yourself this easily with—”

He pulled your hair, forcing your back to arch and take him deeper. Your mouth opened, instantly melting, until you shivered when you felt him near your ear.

“No.” You opened your eyes in his silence to find him looking at you through the mirror. If your open mouth spelled how deep he was buried inside you, then his eyes told of how desperate he was. “Only you do this to me. Only you drive me this fucking crazy.”

He connected his nose to your shoulder despite ramming into you wildly, and grunted together with you. You couldn’t stifle your moans, your curses, or your prayers. But you yelped when suddenly he let you go and rolled you over. He got between your legs and immediately slid inside you, earning a sigh from you and a plea.

He pulled your legs over his shoulders and leaned down over you, seeing your eyes widen. You extended your hands, what for you weren’t certain, but he grabbed them and pressed them to the mattress on either side of your head.

His hips restarted their rocking, and you moaned desperately. You squirmed, and moaned, and said his name, and begged, and squeezed his hands, and all the while he never stopped fucking you. He was sweating, and it was dripping over you, but you couldn’t care. All that mattered was that he was as deep as possible inside you, torturing you with how good he felt, and you were there for it. Loving every moment.

“Fuck— You’re so deep—”

“You like it?”

His tone was gentle, almost as if he wished for nothing more than to please you. It instantly caught your breath. That was too familiar. You were lost. You wished for nothing else but him.

“Yes— Yes—”

You were desperate, at the edge of your emotions with tears in your eyes, and he saw it. “Tell me what you want.”

“You!” Your answer was instantaneous, at the end of a moan. “You, fuck, please, you, just you—”

“I’m here.”

You gripped his hands, and anxiety crossed your features for a moment. “Please.”

He kissed you, relenting his rhythm, only to whisper to your lips, “I’m here, bubbles.”

You opened your teary eyes to look at him, and your heart shook. His eyes were sweet despite the pleasure and effort mingling in his features. He was looking at you, really looking, really seeing you, and he was there. He wasn’t taking it out on you anymore; he was really with you, like he once was. 

You didn’t want to delude yourself, but the way he continued, staying close to your face to peck your lips and your cheeks, was swelling your heart too much. You moved with him, lulled by that sweetness you had longed for too long. That thought alone got you on the right tangent, and you made sure to tell him through moans, looks, and your hands in his. He nuzzled you, sweat dripping down, and answered every plea and moan with signs of his pleasure.

You let it grow inside you until you knew you couldn’t be contained, and neither did you want to be. You opened your mouth to tell him, and nothing came out, but he got it.

“Cum with me,” he grunted before kissing you, and you whimpered and moaned your overwhelming pleasure without breaking away. Your orgasm was so intense that you quivered from head to toe, grounded only by his firm body rocking over yours, there every step of the way.

Finally, he groaned into your mouth and pressed your lips firmly when you were both done, panting, sweaty, and spent.

You didn’t think about what would happen after all that; truthfully, you wished time would stop. For a moment, you believed it could be so — he had stayed inside you with his mouth on your neck, just suckling as you enjoyed his weight over you. You were drifting off to sleep, so utterly relaxed, happy, and fulfilled.

Until he pulled away, and your heart cracked.

You couldn’t open your eyes immediately. You weren’t ready to face reality again, not after the way you were just together. But when you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised.

Jungkook looked tired and sleepy, but that was it. He was extending his hand for you, and you grabbed it. He pulled you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pointing at the toilet and turning to handle the condom. You peed, and your mind latched onto nothing; you didn’t want to ruin that bliss.

He took your hand again and pulled you back to bed, opening the sheets before dragging you with him with an arm around your waist. You sighed, leaning back into him, and he held you to his chest. As he covered you both with a sheet, you could swear that it was all a dream. All of it.

[Next part>]

[blackseafoam]

My 2024 in Star Wars Art

The sequence of getting an iPad for digital art, bad batch s3, watching rebels and all of tcw for the first time, and me getting back on tumblr is to thank for all of this. I never would’ve guessed the animated Star Wars fandom here was so active and full of great people!! I was immediately overwhelmed as soon as I started posting my Star Wars art (in the best way possible).

I even now have an IRL reputation for being the Star Wars person. Even at work. It spews out of my brain and gets everywhere.

Anyway, I was in a little bit of an art slump before this year. I’m just so happy to be back in it and creating just for the sake of it.

Anyway, if you want to see more here’s my masterpost. I can’t believe pretty much all of that was created in the last 9 months. If you have creative energy to make ANYTHING, USE IT OR LOSE IT! Every time I make Star Wars fanart it just increases the chances that I’ll do it again, especially when I get such wonderful feedback from this community 🥰✨✨

[yoonia]

Ever A Never After — story masterpost

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Summary | Growing up in the fairy tale land, your whole life seems to have been written perfectly in the books, with the picturesque life and the Prince Charming that you can see yourself having your happily ever after with. But your entire world turns upside down when you are suddenly sent into a whole new world, a different kind of universe where happily ever after doesn’t exist. Thrust into a new challenge and shown a new side of life, you find yourself standing in a crossroad. When the moment arises, would you find your way back home to your true love, or is the universe trying to show you that sometimes happy endings don’t have to be written so perfectly?

⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Angst, Smut ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; specific warnings will be added accordingly on each published chapters ⟶ Status / Current word count / Total word count | ONGOING; latest update: Ever A Never After: Act 2 - Part 2 (Oct 7th, 2024) - 51,865 words of n/a words  ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion ⟶ Cross-posted in AO3 and Wattpad

⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After

⟶ Story Note | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). In place of the coding, you’ll find a blank space as her name. Please also note that our main character/reader insert for this story has her own nickname that will be used in the scenes. While the story is adapted from the movie, Enchanted, with some characters and places that were mentioned in the movie added into this story, I will be adding changes in the story settings, characters’ names and background stories to fit the plot. That being said, as someone who has never set foot in the land of America, forgive me if there are some inaccuracies in the details that are being added here. I hope that doesn’t change your reading experience with the story.

⟶ Chapters

⇢ Act One. Andalasia, The Maiden, and The Dream Prince [“It’s you. The boy I saw in my dreams.” “It’s me. Your Prince Charming.” | Word count: 19,688 words | posted: May 21st, 2024 | Chapter Teaser]

⇢ Act Two. The Alter World and The Saviour [“I need to find my way back to the castle.” “What castle?” “Why, of course, I’m talking about Andalasia.” “Huh, right. Why don’t I just call you an Uber?” | Word count: 32,185 words | Chapter Teaser]

— Part 1. Welcome to the Alter World [Word count: 15,410 words of 32,185 words - posted on: Sept 16th, 2024] — Part 2. The World Without Magic [Word count: 16,755 of 32,185 words - posted on: Oct 7th, 2024 ]

⇢ Act Three. Fairy Tales and Bittersweet Endings [“You forgot to say the part where you lived happily ever after.” “Happily ever after? That thing doesn’t exist, not in the real world.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]

⇢ Act Four. The Ball for The Kings and Queens and Dragons [“There is a ball for the Queen and Kings at the start of spring. Shall we go together?” “As your Prince Charming, I’ll be happy to escort you.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]

⇢ Act Five. Prince Charming and a Happily Never After [“Look at how the tables have turned, as now I have in my hand the Prince who is supposed to protect the princess.” “Come along now, dear. You wouldn’t want to miss the ending.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]

⟶ Fic talk & references

⇢ image reference

⇢ readers feedback & discussions

⟶ Patreon specials

⇢ visual inspiration board

⇢ fic commentary (coming soon)

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | It’s finally here! I’m so sorry for taking so long with this one. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. As mentioned in our last talk, there will be some changes from the original prompt/details that I’ve made to make the story work better, but I hope you’ll be able to enjoy it still. I have decided to release this one as a mini-series to present the timeline more appropriately and make the storyline work. Have fun reading!

— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[clockwayswrites]

Fledgling Birbs, part 35

masterpost please no editing or concrit, not read over, just trying to survive the week

“Ah, hi there,” Danny finally managed to say. He gave a little wave of his fingers at the small face staring at him from around Jason’s legs. He also tucked his wings closer against his back. The wings had to be what had them looking at him with that sort of shocked wonder like that. It wasn’t every day—

“New grandpa?!”

Danny blinked. “I—sorry, what?”

The child dashed out from behind Jason and over to him where they stood at his feet with their hands up. What else was he supposed to do? He picked them up, perching them carefully on one of his arms and keeping his other hand behind their back to balance them. Unconsciously, one of his wings curled around them, but they didn’t even seem to notice. They was too busy pressing their small, chubby hands against his cheeks.

“Have Grandpa Bruce—” (which came out more like ‘Bwuce’) “—and Grandpa Oli—” (‘Ohwee’) “—and Greatpa Alfie!” (‘Owfee’) they explained. “You are old like Bruce and Oli and not so so so old like Alfie and you are here and that means you are a new grandpa! What’s your name?”

Danny could feel the blush heating up his face. “I’m Danny, but—”

They threw their arms up in the air and Danny scrambled to keep them balanced. “Grandpa Danny!”

A bit panicked, Danny looked up at Jason only to freeze. Jason wasn’t amused or confused or embarrassed. No, Jason was afraid.

Danny set the little one down and squatted down to their height. “Hey little kinglet, why don’t you go say hello to Grandpa Bruce and then I’ll be right over, okay?”

“Okay!” They shouted before they ran off to Bruce, shouting his name.

“Is that Lian?” Bruce asked with an exaggerate gasp and scooped her up.

Danny turned back to Jason, his smile dropping. “I’d never hurt her, I promise. I wouldn’t hurt any child. I know that… this other form can be frightening. It frightens me too. If you want me to leave the Manor, I’d get it.”

It would hurt, but he’d get it. He’d been meaning to leave, after all, for days now, but there was always something stopping him. Danny let there always be something to stop him. He’d gotten the best sleep he’d had in years at the Manor and… it wasn’t lonely. It was never lonely.

Jason sighed. It was a heavy sound. “I don’t want to drive you off.”

“But you’re afraid of me.”

“Yes,” Jason agreed easily, unapologetically. Danny didn’t blame him. “Lian is important to me. I know I’m not actually her dad or anything, but I’ve been around since she was basically dropped on Roy’s doorstep. The others can take care of themselves well enough, if you did something, but she couldn’t. Some of that’s about you and some of that’s just how I feel about her with anyone I don’t know that well. You can’t believe how much looking into people I did finding a preschool for her.”

Danny tucked his hands into his pockets and gave a little shrug. It was okay, this was fine. “I bet I maybe can believe it. I’ve got a two year old niece and calling my sister ‘a bit intense’ is an understatement. I’m being serious you need me to leave, at least while she’s here, I will. I leave if that will make you feel like she’s safe. That’s more important. If that’s too much, I’ll just stay scarce. I can pretty easily make sure that I’m not left alone with Lian.”

There was a long, quiet moment of Jason watching Danny, who made sure to meet his gaze steadily. Then Jason shook his head. “You deserve to be here too.” There was a harsh, electronic sound and Jason yanked his phone out of his pocket. “Shit, have to go.”

Danny watched as Jason hurried over to where Lian was showing Bruce a flower and bent down by the little girl. Danny quietly went the other way. As soon as the doors to the yard closed, Danny pulled his hands out of his pockets.

Fine, black feathers dusted his skin.