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#I MISS BEING UNHINGED AND FERAL
tk-writer · 2 years
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oh no they're writing again
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kacievvbbbb · 15 days
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Finally back on my dressrosa watching shit. And was immediately greeted by thislovely site.
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What an unhinged maniac 🥰.
I am god's strongest soldier and this was my reward for fighting his hardest battle (not skipping to whole cake).
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gladiatorcunt · 7 months
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Feral feral Anakin fucking you every second of the day because he can’t get enough of you and is overly obsessed
send me coryo, luke castellan, or anakin asks (this is a threat)
implied canon compliant prequels and childhood friend afab royalty reader (basically in padme's place) based on an upcoming fic
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This is canon Anakin behavior actually, he's like a big dog with his favorite chew toy. The dog obviously loves the toy a lot but it's because of his love that the toy becomes well used. No matter how tattered it becomes, the dog will still curl around it and spend its days licking the hell out of it until it withers away.
I think that because of how he grew up, just a little boy on some ball of sand whose life really didn't belong to him, as soon as he's free from that he just unravels. I love Anakin being written as more unhinged or even slightly like an eldritch horror, because suddenly he has this big destiny laid out in front of him and the tethers holding his soul together inevitably come unhooked. I think that he's wired like that from the beginning, very passionate but without a means to express it.
So, when he meets you, little royal heir with all the stars of the galaxy in your eyes, he tells a familiar story about an angel and from then on, it's over for him. Every moment of his life orbits around the sun in his solar system, you.
The first think he thinks when he sees you again, is how your moans would echo off the windows when he eats you out on one of the couches. Then he imagines your perfectly manicured hands clawing delicious ribbons down his back while he rabidly pounds your sopping wet pussy against the wall of your huge walk-in closet in your apartment. He'd have to hold a hand over your mouth, but he wouldn't do a thing to clean up the slicks that drips out of your pussy onto the floor. You'd pout as you'd rush to get ready before Obi-Wan came back, and all he'd be able to do in response is hook his chin over your shoulder and smile.
"No, it's because I'm so in love with you."
You're leaning against a balcony overlooking a lake in Naboo and all he can think about as he strokes a shy finger down your back is hiking your dress up and bending you over it. You're chained to a pillar in between him and Obi-Wan, and when all is said and done, he wishes he killed everybody that was relishing in your suffering in that arena and fucked you with their blood coating his body. He could go on forever until the last grain of sand on Tatooine flies away. He'd have gotten you barefoot and pregnant immediately if the leash around his neck was any looser.
No matter the fantasy or the moment, you always have at least one mark on you. He's not patient enough for hickies and his fingers move too quickly for any serious bruises to form on your body. He favors bite marks, near perfect impressions of his teeth etched in your soft skin. He doesn't bite to tear, just does his repeated 'chomp!'s without a single thought in his head; your thighs bear the brunt of it. Anakin likes when drops of blood bead at the surface of the bites, because then he can lick the bites soothingly. You usually have to run your fingers through his hair to get him to come back to himself when he starts doing it on autopilot with his eyes rolled back.
"Yes, yes, yessssss.... love fucking my cunt, missed making love to my sloppy pussy. Taking my dick so well, keep breathing with me, my love. That's it, just like that."
His way of saying good morning is languid strokes deep in your guts. His way of saying good night is crazed thrusts that have him putting it back it when his frenzied pace causes his length to slip out. He has is so hard sometimes, determined to carry the entire galaxy on his shoulders with you on top of it. You can the rising anger that builds within him when everything he does to prove himself goes unrecognized. The best way he has to ignore all of that outside responsibility is knocking your sweaty body up the bed while you're clutching the headboard for dear life.
Anakin's emotions bleed from him so openly, and all you have to do is drink them in. Because even though he wasn't free when he met you, you owned him them with his gift around your neck. You own him now, your cervix kissing his mushroom tip in its own display of affection. He is supposed to live his life with the intention to be the force's son, but he is burning to ash faster than he is fulfilling his destiny; at least he can keep you and your future children warm.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
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Ghost & König’s Reaction to You in a Maid Outfit
Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Implied Sexual Content, Rough Ghost & König, Dominant Ghost & König, Lashing (with a Belt), Restraining, Victim Blaming (Kind Of), Petnames, König is Basically Feral™, Implied Oral, Threats, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.
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Ghost
Comes up behind you when you’re idling with something and straight-up just sticks his hand up your skirt.
He pulls you to his chest when you jump, squeal, taking advantage of your flailing to hook the band of your underwear and pull them down your thighs.
Confused, you’re given no time to react before Ghost has your hands pinned behind your back, held in place with handcuffs of bone, flesh and pure muscle as he shunts you against the countertop, something protruding – intruding – hard against your exposed centre as he presses himself tightly against you.
Your cheek pressed against the cold surface, you barely see or hear Ghost between your startled breaths, feeling only a shadow come over you as he leans down to your ear, his free hand slithering from your back to your face, where he slips a lock of hair from your vision.
“Did’ya really think you could get away with wearing this,” he said, low, dangerous, his hand coming to grip the hem of your skirt.
“Without consequences ?”
You can feel his hand on your thigh now, gripping the skin hard enough to leave a pale imprint of his lust. Fingers slithering up the expanse of your leg, resting just beneath where you’ll be screaming for him to have mercy half an hour from now.
It doesn’t matter what you do or say now – not that you can or will be able to do much of either with your arms bound and Ghost occupying your mouth with a meat delicacy you can’t buy over a counter (despite that being where you are now, ironically) in about ten minutes’ time..
“The time for apologies is over, Darling,” he tells you. You wince when you hear his belt hissing as he slides it from his jeans, the material crinkling in his grip as if the creature it hailed from was still alive.
And he cracks it. Once. Twice. Against your bare thighs, making you cry out, your stockings having withered under Ghost’s harsh stare.
“All you can do now is repent.”
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König
Lures you into a false sense of security with low, soft praises of “How beautiful you look, Engel !” And “Won’t you come closer so I can have a better look at you ?”
By the time you may suspect something in König’s tone is unusually jovial, it’s too late.
You missed the feral glint in his eye, the shattering grip he had on his wine glass, discarded as he turns his attention to you now.
Before you can even wonder what it is he’s thinking, you’re slammed onto the sofa, König sinking down on top of you, his hands steel around your wrists as he holds them beside your head.
And now, you see it.
All at once, and entirely too late.
A predatory possession of all that was your kind, mild-mannered, sensitive König, replaced with a shadowed imitation, blackened by an almost supernatural depth of desire none but he could execute to its fullest potential.
And it shows in how his breathing is ragged despite you posing no real physical test to his strength. Rather, there’s something within trying to break free. And it has you in its sights.
Leaning down, König takes the skin of your neck between his teeth, biting it, sucking it, leaving a path of destruction in his wake as your skin reddens. There will be bruises soon.
Not that König will be letting anyone else see them. You’ll be lucky if you’re able to even leave the bedroom, nevermind the house.
That much is apparent to you in how König growls when you move, try to slip your constricted wrists into some position of comfort, making him clamp down on top of you, his thighs gripping your sides, your ribcage a shell in his vice.
“Don’t try anything cute, Engel,” König husks, voice deep and feral. His pupils are pinpricks, unhinged in a most biological manner. And his teeth seem sharper now. Somehow.
“Or I may be forced to try something unorthodox with you.”
The bulge between his legs, one which he presses to the sensitive spot between yours, tells you he’s deadly serious. If his killing smile wasn’t enough.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad
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frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months
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♰ ᗪEᔕTᖇOY ᗰE ♰
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♰ Pairing: dom!energy vampire!yunho x sub!chubby!fem!human!reader
♰ Genre: smut/angst/vampire au/horror
♰ Summary: Life as a human pet to your vampire master means that feeding time is always a special occasion but you've been acting particularly bratty lately so your owner decides to make tonight's dinner one you won't soon forget.
♰ Word Count: 1.5k-ish
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♰ Warnings: Yunho's your master so you call him that, he's also feral for you, pet names (my pet, princess, good girl, little human, etc), not so pet names (you get called a fuck toy and a whore. fun times), a sprinkle of degradation if you squint, he's literally draining you of your life force, bondage, strong language, dirty talk, body suspension, unprotected sex, creampie, a lil cum play, blink & you miss it breeding kink, reader's ultra wet, sub space, nipple play, tit sucking, edging, fingering, vaginal penetration w/ vibrator, major Yunie hand kink, rough/deep sex, he also kinda overdoes it on the feeding and thinks he killed you but girl you're fine.
♰ A/N: I'm a horror whore so honestly this is roughly 1.5k worth of vampire smut that exists for the sole reason that I wanna bang vampires and apparently I wanna bang Yunho too. Someone confiscate my laptop ASAP so I can stop being so unhinged. Thanks xoxo ♡
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Your master’s favorite room in this sprawling gothic manor you’ve come to call home will always and forever be the dining room...
A dining room that only qualifies as one by way of being a place in which he consumes his food. Between these four walls, upholstered in dark scarlet velvet, you’ll find no table and chair set. No wholesome family photos adorning the walls. No plates or forks or spoons.
Though there may be the occasional knife depending on what your master’s in the mood for. But tonight it isn’t about the blood—something he draws from you on only the rarest of occasions. Tonight it’s about feasting on your energy, devouring the very essence of your soul, and the room is brimming with it.
Ornate light fixtures in each corner illuminate the darkness in an erotic red that seems to pulse around the center of the room where you dangle 4ft from the ground, suspended only by the intricately knotted rope your master’s decorated your naked body in. At your feet a tall figure looms, his presence dominant and imposing. He watches you intently, admiring the meal laid out before him.
You’ve pinned your hair up for him, making it perfect for tugging should you require any disciplinary measures. Your makeup is simple yet alluring, highlighting your features without overpowering them. The rope fashioned around your chest is a corset of sorts that binds your arms behind you, curving back around your breasts to lay them bare for him to see.
Your plush thighs are spread giving him a direct view of the vibrator humming away in your dripping core. The room is silent besides this and, of course, your mindless whimpering. You aren’t allowed to speak, you know better than to disobey this rule, but you can make all the noise you want as long as you control your volume. But that’s so hard isn’t it? When your master’s been edging you for this long—much longer than your ruined little brain can remember—it’s easy to lose control. 
“My pet isn’t forgetting her manners, is she?” Yunho asks, stepping between your legs. Hands gloved in black leather stroke the ropes extending from your ankles up to the ceiling, the vibration of your trembling body quaking through his own. You can see him better now, your handsomely dressed master feasting upon you with those shimmering sapphire pools he calls eyes. All you want in this realm is to be good for him. To be rewarded with his love, his praise, and his touch.
Reaching between your thighs, Yunho spreads the petal soft folds of your pussy, sliding the hood of your clit back to expose the sensitive bundle of nerves. He brushes it with his thumb and your body rushes with a heat that radiates onto him like the rays of the sun.
“Mmm, you feed your master so well” he hums, licking his lips, salivating, “Such a sensitive little cunt.”
Biting down on your bottom lip, you choke your moans down deep in your throat, your stomach tightening at the stimulation. You raise your hips, desperate to truly feel his touch but the gloves won’t let you. That is the mortal torture of this night. 
All week you’ve been acting like a brat, disobeying his orders and throwing tantrums to get his attention. You understand how powerful Yunho is, how important his duties to the vampire council are, but he’s been far busier than usual lately and all those long nights home alone became unbearable.
Yunho can tell how much you’ve missed him by how tightly your pussy clings around the vibrator. “Look at her, so greedy. I really have neglected her. Forgive me, little one” he coos, pushing it into you until your eyes are watering and your head’s thrown back in ecstasy.
Yunho slips the vibrator out at an agonizingly slow pace, stopping at the tip. He groans in delight at the unique taste of the energy you give off as he rotates it in small circles.
“You love when your master punishes you, hmm? Like having this gorgeous pussy tortured until you can’t take it?” he grins, stretching you wide to watch your juices drip to the floor. “That is why you’ve been acting up, isn’t it?”
You respond with broken, honeyed moans and drawn out breaths. Yunho’s draining you, your essence flowing from you like a fountain that feels deceivingly good as it leaves your body. Yunho’s eyes travel up your figure, stopping every now and again to lust after the tender flesh peaking through the ropes. His gaze settles where your breasts bounce against your chest, the rope pushing them up in such a way that your stiffened nipples are begging for his attention.
Yunho leans in, applying delicate kitten licks to your nipple, and hears how frantically your heart beats in your chest. “No coming yet, little one” he hums, taking more of your pillowy breast into his mouth. The bud hardens more against the texture of his tongue and Yunho takes it between his teeth, pinching it just to watch you squirm.
He shoves the vibrator back into you, angling it against your sweet spot, “That’s it, mmph, shit, keep feeding me. Give it all to me.”
The room begins to darken, the minimal lighting doing nothing to keep you from drifting into the shadows. Your bindings seem to fall away and with it the limits of your mortal form. You’re left floating in a space too euphoric for words, completely at Yunho’s mercy.
Yunho raises his head, your spit drenched nipple suctioned between his lips, and finds himself spellbound by your beauty. You are a work of art unable to be replicated by any other woman, human or otherwise, and you’re his. Forever his. Just knowing his claim to you is eternal makes his hunger for you reach ravenous heights and he’s baring his fangs, tearing his gloves off to feel your bare body in his palms.
Tossing the vibrator aside, he frees his cock from the dress pants it was nearly tearing through to get to you. With one thrust he’s buried within your walls, rolling his hips to feel the delicious ridges of your pussy around him. Your body tenses, unintentionally causing you to pull away, but he won’t let you get away that easily. 
“You know the rules, pet. No running” he growls, grabbing your hips and slamming you back down onto him, “You’ll be a good little human whore and, ah, take my cock like the fuck toy that you are.” Keeping one hand at your waist, his other hand ventures around you activating every pleasure point.
Your body reacts with maddening excitement to the worship being poured into you by those large, marvelously veined hands. They're like magic, tiny sparks of electricity dancing along your skin at every brush of his fingers. Lacing his long fingers around the back of your neck, he licks the delectable tears streaming down your cheeks.
"Say my name" he whispers, fangs skimming your jawline, "And maybe I'll take mercy on you."
The next moan that escapes you is more fractured than the others as your orgasm tears you to pieces. You repeat his name over and over, “Yunho. Yunho. Yun…”
“No, no, that won't do. Louder. Scream it" he commands and you obey, screaming your throat raw with his name all over your tongue.
Yunho stills his movements, groaning as you ride him in midair, his cock glistening in your slick. You’re coming for what feels like an eternity when your lower belly swells full with his seed, warm and satisfying. When Yunho pulls back it’s overflowing, trickling from your core and down your immaculate ass. He takes two fingers, gathering his come and feeding it back into you, “You did well, my pet. I’m so proud of you.“
Gradually you come back from that otherworldly place, your awareness of your body returning little by little. Opening your eyes you realize that you aren’t strung up in the dining room anymore. Instead you’re submerged in water of some sort, a floral scent filling your nostrils. You wiggle your toes and they swish around in the water, bubbles dancing on the tips of them. Your vision balances out and you let out a sigh of relief at the familiar sight of your bathroom.
“Thank hell you’re up” Yunho cheers from behind you in the tub, wrapping you in the tightest hug. “I must’ve fed too much. I’m so sorry, princess. I could’ve killed you. I don’t know what I’d do if…” 
“Master, I’m fine, really.” you swear, lighting up at the sloppy kisses he plants on your cheek. “I may not be like you but I’m still strong.” 
Yunho rests a hand on your chest, his fingers making figure eights on your collarbone. “That you are. My strong, beautiful little human. I’m so sorry I neglected you,” he apologizes, hoping with all his heart that you believe him. “Your master loves you, you trust that don't you?”
You nod, smiling back at him, feeling safe and cared for in his embrace. “And my master is loved.” 
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fanaticsnail · 4 months
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It looks... infected, Kil?
Hey Doc Masterlist here
Word Count: 1,900+
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Synopsis: You finally think you're getting a break, conversing with fellow experts in your field. As you defend your crew's mentality and maturity, the crewmate you were sure to be the most sane out of the lot of you proves you wrong.
Warnings: surgical talk, mention of a unsanitary piercings, exhausted Doctor, grumpy doctor, gn!reader x Killer, undressing crewmates, medical administration, swearing, crying, comforting, blushing, feelings?
Notes: Okay, this was meant to be a drabble, I swear. Only a bit of fun. Are there feelings now? Is there a little bit of chemistry here, or are they just good friends?
Edit: inspired my real accounts of piercing experiences in the wild by two mutuals (@feral-artistry & @nerium-lil) being flashed by friends.
Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil
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“Hey Doc?” a smooth, polite voice called to you from your place sitting on the beach alongside the small medic of the straw-hat crew. You turned to look up at the large polar-bear mink, giving him a soft smile as he politely rang his hands in front of him. 
“Yeah, Bepo?” you asked him in response, patting the ground beside you and the hatted reindeer, “What’s on your mind, honey?” He eagerly sat down beside you in a large thump, his radiating body heat bringing you comfort on the sandy shore. 
“I-... uh-... I was just wondering,” he scratched the scruff of his neck with his large paw, “What is it like being the medic of the Kid Pirates?” Two forms immediately slump down beside the three of you. The red-headed orca man and his hat-wearing counterpart joining in on your conversation. 
“I was curious about that too, Doc,” Shachi confessed, giving your shoulder a playful pat and chuckling, “Your crew are really unhinged. We’ve all been placing bets that it’s mainly STDs and weird intimacy-induced injuries, weren't we Peng?” You rolled your eyes at the remark, looking to the redhead and his companion.
“Is that right?” you offered him a sarcastic response, looking over to Chopper and beckoning him closer to you. “There are children present, I hope you know. Where’s your manners?” A rosy blush immediately grew over Shachi’s cheeks and flushed his embarrassment over his features. 
“Sorry, Doc,” Penguin offered for his crewmate, shaking his head with a soft smirk, “Doesn’t make us any less curious, though. What’s it like?” You shook your head, pinching the bridge of your nose and rubbing your waterline with your index finger and thumb. 
You looked over at your crewmates, noticing Kid and Killer were missing from the beach-front meeting space and narrowed your eyes at where they should’ve been. 
“Honestly, Heart-Pirates, and sweet Chopper,” you cooed down at him and scrunch your nose in glee, “It has been like nothing I could’ve ever dreamed of. Sure, I get my fair share of injuries that could’ve been prevented. A couple of itches that should’ve been avoided if they wore armor into the variety of battlefields - if you catch my meaning.” You shot Shachi and Penguin a knowing look before looking down at Chopper.
“Truly,” you sighed, looking at the dance of lights in the moonlit sky, “I couldn't ask for anything more. I love those weirdos, and I am one myself.” You noted, looking at Bepo and offering him a kind glance, “And they’re not as stupid as you think they are. Give them more credit, please.”
“Ah, I see,” Bepo nodded along at your confession, looking over at his two crewmates who offered you sheepish and apologetic smiles in response. Shachi, Penguin, Bepo, Chopper and you all enjoyed sitting in a very rare silence together, the warmth radiating off the warm sand and having you breathe in a calm tuft of salty air. 
As you sat and enjoyed the serenade of sweet bugsong, that silence was interrupted by a heavy trudge of bootheels grinding in the coarse sand. You recognised that trek, looking up into the scarred chest of Massacre Soldier Killer as he inserted himself between Bepo and you, lifting his shirt and revealing his wide chest to the five of you.
“These look even to you?” He asked behind his mask, prompting all five of you to look up at him and the other four of your company immediately recoiled at what they were witnessing. Killer was freshly adorning ball barred piercings thrust through the tips of his nipples, the indents bleeding and beginning to crust over with a soft sheen of puss.
“Kil...” you groaned, shaking your head and sighing, “...I thought we learnt the last time our Captain attempted to gift the crew with piercings. Remember what happened with Quincy’s labret and Heat’s-... uh-...” you looked down at the whimsical and innocent eyes of the reindeer before turning back to Killer, “...ladder.” 
“Said he cleaned ‘em this time,” Killer shrugged, gesturing for you to take a closer look at the freshly pierced buds on his chest, “It’s been a week. Needed some fresh eyes to give an honest opinion.” You shook your head, leaning in closer and looking at his pink puckered flesh and groaned. 
“They look,” you began sighing and rolling your eyes, “Fucking infected, Kil?” Snickers from Shachi and Penguin didn’t go unnoticed, and you shot them a sneer before shooting the reindeer an apologetic glance. 
Standing from your seated position beside the other crew, you gave them a gentle nod to excuse yourself and dragged Killer by his ear towards the Victoria Punk’s infirmary. You muttered under your breath, seething with the fumes of fury with each step you took towards your office doors. 
“Here I thought I was gettin’ a fucking break,” you grumbled, shoving Killer into your office and slamming the door shut behind you. “But no,” you uttered sarcastically with a dance of your head, “No, you had to keep me in the dark about this, didn’t you?” You open the drawer and thrust your hands aggressively into the box and get two rubber gloves and angrily thrust them over your wrists. 
Your mutters and frustration never ceased, your nose beginning to sniff and your anger teetered on sorrow the longer you looked for the variety of items to clean up the infection. Saline solution, antiseptic ointment, numbing balm to remove the pus-surrounded bars, cotton balls and gauze strips. 
Shoulders shaking, you rubbed your eyes with your forearm to calm the sting of fresh tears from falling. Thoughts of what the Heart-Pirates would be saying about you behind your back, your medical degree being the laughing stock of your peers. Your eyes began to swell as you continued choking back your sobs of rage. 
“Am I a fucking joke to you all?” you whisper, biting your lip and readying your treatment tray with the items you desired. “All I do is fix stupid mistakes and coddle you lot when you’re hurt. I’m a disgrace to my training, a laughing stock to my field, and a fucking idiot for joining this crew in the first place. I just want a damn break-.” 
Before you could continue your monologue of degradation, two strong arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind and squeezed you into his broad chest. You immediately draw your hands up to Killer’s forearms and quiver your lip to stifle your sobs further. He leaned down into your cheek with his mask brushing your face.
“You are none of those things,” he whispered in his calm, soothing voice, “And I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark about Cap’n’s latest project. Thought it wouldn’t happen again, honestly.” You sniffled, leaning your head into his mask and clenching your eyes tightly shut. 
He inhaled deeply and slowly, prompting you to do the same, before you both exhaled together. His arms held so much comfort within the contours of his muscles, him being often the crewmate everyone sought out for consolation for their sorrow. After holding you for several moments, you tapped his arm twice to signal for him to release you from his embrace.
“Alright. Shirt off, Kil,” you mumbled softly, attempting to remove the softness you just encountered at the hands of the first-mate, “Let me see what’s going on up close. Can you do that for me?” He nodded, removing his shirt and placing it on the back of your office chair. You usher him over to the surgical bench and gesture for him to sit. 
As you dabbed at his skin, you ignored the flood of somber emotions in your chest and shoved them down. Removing the ball-bar piercings and immediately throwing them in a sterilizing sink, you cleaned the wounds and looked vacantly ahead of you. Dressing the wounds in antiseptic and covering them with two broad, patterned band-aids, you gave your final nod at him and pouted.
“All done,” you sniffed, dropping your shoulders and removing your gloves from your hands. “You can put your shirt back on now, Kil. Go get the Captain so I can do him the kindness of scolding him away from the Heart and Straw-Hat pirate crews.” Turning away from him and running your fingers through your hair as he placed his shirt back on, Killer’s arms rewrapped around your body and turned you in his arms immediately thereafter. 
He cradled your head into his chest, his body heat and steady heart rate causing your emotions to finally flood over. Finally airing your frustrations, you wrap your arms around as much of him as you could as he soothed you against the embroidered jolly roger of his shirt. 
“You wanna stay here for a while?” Killer asked down at you, caressing your hair and smoothing it over, “I can help you color in the patterns you doodle on the bandaids if you want? Keep you company in here until you’re ready to go back to the beach?” You shook your head in his arms, burying your face deeper into his chest and having him hold you for a few moments longer. 
Chuckling down at you, he smiled beneath his mask at how vulnerable you allowed yourself to be in the moment. Continuing to soothe over your hair and rub circles into your back, he offered you some further confessions. 
“You know we love you, right?” his voice whispered down at you, prompting you to look up at him in his arms. His mask was tilted down at you, the soft glow of his icy blue eyes peeking through the holes in his mask. “So much, Doc. We love you so much.” Your lip quivered as you looked up at him, darting your eyes between where you assumed his were. 
“Promise me,” you sniffed, gulping back your sorrow and fixing your eyes up, “If you’re thinking about getting nipple piercings, or any other type of piercing,” you broke yourself away from his grip and huffed, “You’ll come to me for them. I’ll do them properly for you so they don’t end up infected.” 
Killer chuckled, shaking his head and glancing down at his patterned gauze. He huffed a curt hum in approval at the design. 
“Only if you promise me,” he leaned forward, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, angling your face up at him, “You’ll come to me when you’re feeling shit. I’ll reassure you, give you a squeeze, and might cook you something if you want.” You flinch away from his grip, waving him out of your office with your hands.
“Yeah, yeah,” you offer him, cleaning up the cotton balls and throwing your instruments into the sterilizing tray, “When I feel like a whiny baby, I know where my nice, comforting daddy is.” You snicker at your own teasing joke, shaking your head and continuing to tidy up your office. Killer lingers in the door, his tone physically smirking in his own glee. 
“I would gladly be your nice, comforting daddy,” he whispered huskily from the doorframe, “Anytime you need me to be, baby.” You froze in place, your hands stuttering as you halted tidying up. 
Before you had the opportunity to stifle your blush, turn towards Killer, and chastise him for his words, you noticed he was already gone and heading back towards the beach. Groaning, you clapped your palm over your forehead and muffled the shriek from passing through your lips by clamping your mouth tightly shut. 
“Great,” you utter sarcastically, “This isn’t gonna be awkward at all.”
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megamindsecretlair · 2 months
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I See Red
Pairing: Black Noir x Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader
Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Primal dom Black Noir, Dark elements. Cursing, PIV, SMUT, fingering (fem receiving), bratty reader. Black Noir and reader is aroused by hunting/being hunted. Sorry if I missed others. No spoilers for Season 4.
Summary: You filled in for your friend, working as a server during a party featuring Vought leadership and Supes. All night, you've been playing with Black Noir. Who's hunting who when you lure him out into the garden maze? 
AO3 Link
Word count: 2,664k
A/N: WHEW, sometimes when the feral hounds get to howling, I must answer that call. My fam was in rare form tonight so I'll take it as my sign to chill out lol. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.
Taglist: @chaos-4baby @00aijia00 @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @twocentuar @umber-cinders @planetblaque
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God, your feet hurt. You had been working the party all night, working hard to keep Supe’s drowning in liquor and drugs and the Vought leadership blissfully in lust chasing after them. This was your last fucking party. Your friend could keep this gig. You didn’t need money that badly.
You’ll miss exploring rich mansions, though. This was the closest you’d ever get to knowing how the other half lived. They took all of this acreage for granted. It was an everyday sight to them. They looked at the lush gardens and intricate pathways and saw the money they hemorrhaged trying to keep it afloat. To impress other rich pricks who had too much money and time on their hands. You’d love to have their problems. 
You snagged a glass of champagne from the kitchen, intending to take your break out in the gardens in the back of the mansion. The lighting was softer out here, muted in such a way to give it a hazy, dreamlike look. 
The gardens out here boasted rich purples, bright pinks, and summery oranges. There were still some people out here, giggling and glasses clinking somewhere in the distance. The air was chilly, near frigid, but felt amazing on your overheated skin. 
The soft, shimmery cherry red dress you wore tickled your thick thighs as you took off your heels and padded down the stone steps towards the maze. You discarded your empty glass on the pillar at the bottom of the steps. The maze had instantly grabbed your attention as you received the “don’t fuck up” talk from the manager, Elliot. He was an ass, thought himself more important than God, but all you did was tune him out as you looked towards the maze.
You took the last step and then hopped quickly onto the grassy knoll, the ground too cold for your aching feet. You sighed as your toes squished in the grass, a light mist making your feet wet. But that was okay. The dew added to the atmosphere and if you closed your eyes, you’d swear that you stepped into another world.
The maze loomed above you, hedges taller than ten feet. Perhaps bigger. You looked behind you to check for anyone nearby. Your eyes snagged on Black Noir standing outside the doors you just exited. 
Your heart skipped a beat, drinking him in. He was so mysterious. But with an obvious, dangerous swagger like he could snap your neck in half and then carry about his day like it didn’t faze him. All night, you felt like he was watching you. All night, you dodged from room to room just to see what he’d do.
He’d stalk from room to room right after you. Sometimes you let him catch you. He’d sidle up next to you and tilt his head, never saying anything. It was his whole thing. But you wondered what his voice sounded like. Or what he looked like. He could be horrendous underneath the stretch of black across his face. 
No one with that much presence could be ugly right? You blamed your mask kink as you waited for Black Noir to zero in on you before taking off into the maze. You turned and turned, scurrying down pathways whether they lead somewhere or not. You weren’t sure how big the maze was, but that made it more exciting.
Clouds of breath escaped you as your imagination took off. You knew Black Noir was behind you somewhere. When would he catch you? What would you let him do if he did? 
You ducked down a few more pathways, nothing but the stars and moon to guide you overhead. This was nuts. This was one of the wildest things you’d ever done. But when would you ever get the chance to do this? Since this was the last party you covered for your friend, you intended to go out with a bang. 
You giggled to yourself at your wild thoughts before covering your mouth with your hand. This was a supe you were up against. You weren’t quite sure about his powers and that only added to the thrill. 
Did your red dress give you away? A twig snapped behind you and you whirled around, expecting to see Black Noir. There was nothing. Nothing but hedges surrounding you. The light hoot of an owl. A breeze ruffled your flyaway hairs, a sheen of sweat settling between your breasts and on the back of your legs. 
A rustling noise made you duck down a nearby pathway, spurned to fleeing at the prospect of being hunted by Black Noir. He was usually quiet as a church mouse. Were these sounds due to natural critters in the maze? Or was Black Noir playing with you? 
Your thighs tingled and your pussy throbbed. You thought you took enough turns, you were completely lost. You weren’t sure how he could find you in this. You controlled your breathing, stepped quietly, and you kept your eyes pricked for any sign of movement. 
You turned down one final path that led to the middle of the maze. Set in a wide square, the middle had a few benches and a fountain. There was a statue in the middle of the fountain, a young naked maiden pouring water from a giant pot in her hands. Her hair flowed down the middle of her back, inlaid with stone flowers. 
Shit like this was wasted on the rich. You could spend eternity here just cataloging all of the details on the statue. Was it Greek inspired? You stepped closer, momentarily forgetting that you were trying to entice Black Noir. 
Remembering that, you inched closer to the entrance. You looked both ways and then turned to the fountain. The water trickled and the breeze turned biting. 
You sighed. Maybe he wasn’t interested. Maybe he was tired of the chase. Maybe you played hard to get for one minute too long and Black Noir found someone more willing. You pouted and gave one final look at the fountain.
The cool smell of leather wafted to your nose as a gloved hand clamped down over your mouth. You tried screaming, but it was muffled by his hand. You struggled, fighting, clawing to get free but the solid mountain behind you was unforgiving. 
You looked up and back, into the visor of Black Noir. You still struggled, more excited than scared this time. Black Noir wrapped a large arm around your middle and yanked you from the ground. Your feet kicked, trying to connect with his legs but he was an expert. He held you far enough away where you couldn’t touch him.
Black Noir suddenly let you go. You dropped to your feet with a huff before turning around and backing away from him. Black Noir tilted his head and stalked forward. 
“Found me,” you said and smiled, holding up a hand to ward him off. 
Black Noir nodded.
“I was hoping you would,” you said. You felt silly, like you were talking to yourself. But Black Noir tilted his head again, like he was questioning your statement. You bit your lip, not answering him. 
You really wanted to hear his voice. But then again, half the fun would be gone. Once you knew who was underneath, it’d ruin the mystery and the intrigue. You backed away all the way to the fountain. The edge of the fountain hit the back of your thighs and you stopped. No more room. 
Not unless you wanted to try running around him. You looked past him and Black Noir stepped into your line of sight. You giggled. “Not gonna let me get away again?” You asked.
Black Noir shook his head. 
“How will you get me to stay?” You asked.
Black Noir cracked his neck, rolling it, before stepping to the side in a wide stance, somehow making himself look bigger. More intimidating. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, thumping harshly in your veins. 
You feinted to the left and Black Noir jerked to the side. You giggled, doing the same thing on your right and Black Noir cut off your escape. You grinned as you pretended to run to the right, turning at the last minute, and dodging Noir’s outstretched hands. You did it! You were free!
That feeling was short-lived as Noir scooped you up by your middle, lifting you and walking backwards until you were right back where you started. He dropped you at the edge of the fountain, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanked you back.
The moan escaped you way too fast. You wanted to be coy. Wanted to drag this out and be a smoking hot target. Instead, you were just too damn needy. 
Noir put his face close to yours. Not a word. He nudged your exposed neck with his nose while his free hand ghosted across your chest. You stuck your boobs out, wanting him to do more than this. 
He ignored you, moving his hand to grab a handful of your tummy and squeeze. You moaned again, rubbing your backside against his front. 
Noir moved his hand to lift up your dress, cupping your mound and squeezing. “Fuck!” You moaned out. No mercy. He squeezed to the point of pain, savoring your cries, before rubbing your pussy over your panties. 
“More, more, please,” you cried out. 
Noir pushed your panties down your legs, only giving you enough slack on your hair to let you kick them off. Your skin was on fire. Blood boiling. Pussy throbbing. 
Noir pushed you forward and the palms of your hands stung from the rough stone of the fountain. Your breaths came out in shuddering waves as you were bent over the railing. Noir kept his hold on your hair while you heard his zipper ripping through the night air. 
Noir breathed harshly. A sound! It should not thrill you this much to get a hint of a sound out of him, but fuck. This was going to fuel your fantasies for months. Possibly even years. 
Noir gasped as he removed his glove. You couldn’t see his hand. It was too dark. But you did feel as he moved his fingers through your dripping folds. You moaned, legs giving out. Noir pulled your hair until you stood up straighter and you cried out. 
He wasn’t pulling hard enough to do any real damage. Just a little sting. Just enough force to show you that he was in control. 
Noir continued to play with your pussy, rubbing his fingers around your clit and inside your entrance. You leaked all over him, creating a neat little river that began to leak down your legs. 
Noir pulled your hair. “Oh god, feels so good. So good. So damn good,” you chattered, not sure what you were saying and not truly giving a fuck. This was the most fun you’d ever had during sex. You wished that you could freeze this moment. Or expand it, stretch time as long as you need to in order to experience this for as long as possible. 
You were racing towards an orgasm in no time, screaming into the night like a wild banshee. Who cared who was around at the moment? They were all getting their rocks off, it was only fitting that you did as well. 
Noir continued to finger you, continued pumping his long, thick fingers inside and drawing out another orgasm. 
“Please, please,” you whimpered, not sure what you were begging for. Each orgasm was too quick, too short. Not enough, not nearly enough. You rubbed onto Noir like a purring cat, rubbed your ass against his armor clad groin. 
Another harsh gasp from him. He pushed you forward until you were fully bent over the fountain. He grabbed your hip and pulled you against him. He worked his pants down low enough, slapping a big dick against your wet pussy.
The wet slapping sounds were loud. You had so much slick dripping out of you. He rubbed his dick back and forth, getting the tip wet with your juices. “Fuck me, fuck me,” you begged. Enough with the teasing. You felt ready to jump out of your skin. You were needy. And feral. 
Noir’s hold on your hair tightened as he slapped your ass hard enough to make you hiss with pain. You shook with raw need, pussy clenching around open air. He smacked you again for good measure and you moaned, sticking your ass out.
“I’m sorry, I’ll behave,” you whimpered.
Noir continued with coating his dick in your juices before finally breaching your entrance. He stopped short of entering you fully, waiting. For what you weren’t sure. You pushed against him with a deep groan, pushed your ass backwards in an attempt to slip him inside. 
It wasn’t until you stopped, until you grew still enough, that Noir slammed inside in one savage thrust. “Oh god!” You screamed, legs shaking on his dick. He was so big, a delicious stretch spearing you. 
He drew back until just the tip was inside and then slammed back in. He continued this savage push and pull, driving you insane. You couldn’t pay attention to the rhythm he tried to set. It only felt like not enough. 
You tried to slam him back faster, trying to get that lethal recoil going. Noir stopped and yanked your head back far enough to earn him a cry. You bit your lip and looked at him with a sweet smile. 
“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” you said. 
Noir hovered over your back, using his size to cage you in. He nudged your neck with his nose, shuddering breaths quiet in your ear. You moaned as he slid back in, increasing his strokes, hitting a spot deep inside.
“Don’t stop! Don’t stop! That’s my spot! Right there!” You moaned and cried. He hit a spot so deep you started to see stars. 
Noir obliged you, hitting that spot over and over until you were an incoherent mess, dribbling, and mumbling as a powerful orgasm ripped through you. The edges of your vision turned blurry, as you surrendered to the ecstasy. 
As you came down, Noir’s hold didn’t lessen as he snapped his hips against yours. Soft, panting grunts in your ear that made your pussy clench onto him tighter, hold him in deeper. He let out a muffled groan and finally spilled himself inside you.
His hot, pulsing cum squelched as it mixed with your own essence. He continued snapping his hips like he couldn’t help it. Like he couldn’t stop. You gripped onto his warm thigh, throwing that ass right back on him so you could milk him for every drop. 
Your panting breaths were louder than his as he softened. He pulled out and adjusted himself. You remained faced forward to allow him time to zip himself back up. When you heard the zipper go back up, you dared a glance behind you.
He was right back to the stoic, monolith of a man as he stared in your direction. “Fuck, that was amazing,” you giggled, feeling drunk just off the strength of his fucking. You had enough moonlight to spot your red lace panties on the ground.
Noir was faster, snatching it before your fingers could close around the cloth. You grinned at Noir as he put a finger against his mask and tucked your panties into his pocket. 
“You really gonna leave me here like this?” You asked. 
Noir nodded slowly. “Asshole,” you smirked. 
You walked around him and Noir followed the movement, twisting his body all the way around. You backed away, heading for the entrance. You were thoroughly tired, legs aching, but still, you found that you wanted more. The night was still young-ish.
You blew a kiss at Noir. “Catch me if you can,” you sang as you danced out of the maze, picking up speed when you heard Noir scramble after you.
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There will be more! The Secret Black Noir Files
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itshype · 2 years
Text
How I Met Your Brother (DC x DP)
Dan joins the Justice League - not as part of his rehabilitation, but as a reward for doing so well.
Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning Dan in front of Jazz. And as an eldest sister myself I would not be happy about an alternate version of my sibling being left completely alone in the world, no support, no family to then be turned into a psychopath. And I would be furious for them to then be imprisoned - not for life but for all time?
However, unlike me, Jazz is the world's foremost authority on ghost psychology. She has Dan out of his Thermos and in a larger enclosure within the week.
Now, a lot of fics have Jazz as a magical therapist who can say a few sentences and make any bad guy cry. Sorry, not today though.
First, they resocialise Dan like a feral cat (solitary confinement does make people get loopy), sitting outside his enclosure and hanging out, doing homework etc. This sort of gets him to figure out emotionally that he's no longer in the timeline where everyone he ever cared about died.
Danny discusses with him how many nightmares he's had over just the idea of losing his entire support network the way Dan did and he can't imagine what he's been through. But no emotions are not, in fact superior to having negative emotions.
After a few months, he decides that he does in fact want to actively try and get better. He goes to a therapist (because family members can't do therapy!!!) who's just unhinged enough to get a kick out of counselling a ghost from an alternate timeline.
There's only one relapse. Clockwork fixed it and they don't talk about it.
A month or so later they let him out of the enclosure for good. They offer to symbolically destroy it but Dan thinks they should keep it just in case.
While Dan's humanity has returned, his actual human half is gone forever. But he's interested in doing something with himself. He can't get a GED, or a degree, or be an astronaut. Maybe something in entertainment?
Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning that the Justice League headquarters are in space. Dan isn't as powerful anymore now he's no longer a halfa, but he knows he's handy in a fight. He loves space and due to having them repeatedly and ineffectively implemented against himself - a deep knowledge of international war tactics.
NGL, this isn't where I thought this story was going. But Dan is now an international politics, war policy and foreign affairs expert, I guess.
He helps a fair bit on the team, but his key contributions are his encyclopaedic predictions of how different international communities will react to events. If an out of control meta in Paris takes down the Eiffel Tower, he predicts which countries will immediately 'crack down' on their superpowered citizens - that sort of thing. It's invaluable for their PR team and young meta safety.
He's a friendly guy, doesn't judge anyone for losing control of their powers or going 'too far' on a villain who hurt their friends and family. And he never shuts up about his kid brother who is apparently also his best friend. He briefly mentions a baby sister he's never met and that makes everyone pretty sad.
He doesn't consider this Jazz his sister. He's already had a sister named Jazz and isn't looking for a 1:1 replacement. This Jazz is more like a mum-friend. However, he never had a Danny or an Ellie in his last life.
"My little brother told me about the trick to this level in Doomed 17, want me to explain what you're missing?"
"Sorry, I really can't possess you, even for 'anti mind-control' training. That isn't how overshadowing works, you can't become immune without exposure to ectoplasm in dangerous doses. No, I can't get you some pure ecto, my baby brother would kick my ass to hell."
"Yeah, my baby bro and I both wanted to be astronauts, I died so it's not in the cards for me anymore, but he has a real shot still, we're all rooting for him!"
Most Justice League members think he's a dead eldest brother with living siblings he's still in close contact with.
It's all fun and games until he tries to take a bullet for Batman during an ambush and it's actually an amnesia ray designed to make Batman forget about a specific case until the bad guy can complete his plan.
"I killed you all before, and I will do it again."
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No Nut November
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TW: Masturbation references. Smut. Semi-public sex. Language.
SUMMARY: Partaking in ‘No Nut November’ would prove difficult when you become a bit too needy for him to stay true to his ambition. 
WORD COUNT: 1500
REQUESTED:
Anonymous asked:
Reader x one of the obx guys and him and his friends (so either the other kooks or other pogues) are challenging each other who can go the longest for no nut November and it’s been a few days and you’re being needy so you do everything to tease him until he finally gives in and fucks you
*I WANTED TO CHANGE THIS A BIT TO MAKE IT A BIT MORE INTERESTING…
No Nut November
The odds were stacked against him from the second he agreed to this display of self control; one thing he already wasn’t known for possessing. But by the two week mark, having lasted longer than anyone thought he would, JJ was busting at the proverbial and literal seam of his pants as you only made this worse. Purposely wearing only his shirts and tracing him such ways that if you’d only move slightly north, he’d certainly stain his shorts after denying himself that release for so long. But if there was one thing JJ Maybank was above all else, it was stubborn. Especially when money was on the line. And this was the deal he made with the other pogues. Two hundred dollars for who could last. But you had an ambition all your own. 
“JJ?” You asked as he relaxed in the hammock, trying to think of anything but how his cock throbbed at even just the sound of your voice. He was desperate, but too stubborn to let anyone else have that two hundred dollars. 
“I’m bored…”
“I think Sarah and Kie are-”
“I want to play with you…” You watched his jaw clench and his chest rise in a deep breath. 
“Sweetheart-”
“Please J…I miss you…” He sat on the edge of the hammock, tapping his knee as you knew the invitation well as it was all you had for the last two weeks. But no matter how skilled he was with his fingers or his tongue, you wanted HIM. Because there was nothing like the sensation of his fullness-the closeness. And for that, you were willing to risk appearing desperate or even feral. 
“I want YOU, JJ…”
“Baby, I can’t-” For this, you dropped to your knees, running your hands up his thighs and to his belt as he contracted against you. 
“Is THIS worth more than two hundred dollars? Shit, J, I’ll pay you myself, just fuck me!” 
“Ahem!” John B cleared his voice at your back as you turned to find Pope and Kiara smirking at your desperation. 
“You’re so screwed, J…” Kie commented as he was able to distance himself from you long enough to ignore the temptation you forced on him. 
A few hours later, you were all set around the inner heart of The Chateau. Some conversation of a recent movie spoken between Kiara and John B with passionate standpoints on either end as you could only focus on the fringe of the blanket at the ends of your fingers, unable to meet anyone’s gaze as you were too embarrassed. All because of a stupid deal that made you completely unhinged. And in the attempts he made to warrant a response from you, you would only ignore him, until he tried to pull your legs over him, to which, you’d just pull yourself into his room, slamming the door closed without a care of how this could embarrass him or yourself. 
He waited only a short while before following behind you, finding you in one of his shirts yet again, only now, without a care to use it as a means of seduction. But the second that you would find him wrapping his arms around you, no matter how tempting his embrace had been, you pulled away from him. Or at least tried to before feeling him pull his grip to between your thighs. As you tried to fight him, but found the expert circles and perfect pressure to draw you into more of an agreeable state than what you would have preferred. 
“JJ-”
He silenced you by a hand around your mouth, “You’re gonna want to keep this there…I’m not stopping until you know how sorry I am…And I know how much of a screamer my girl is,especially when I make her squirt…” You groaned into his palm as he was quick to take you to that precipice of that orgasm, only to edge you. 
“JJ, Please…”
“I know what you need…And I know exactly how to give it to you…but you need to give it to me when I’m ready…”
“Please, J…Nobody has to know…Just the tip…Just let me see it-fuck…please…” 
“You really love it that much?” He smirked against your ear as his hand had lowered so you could talk. 
“I need it, J…Please…” You began to rock your ass against him, rubbing and circling him, before his hands stationed at your waist. 
“Then we’re gonna make it worth two hudnred dollars.” He turned you suddenly on your stomach, the excitement of this moment having only been compared to that of your first time together. His hands were quick to undress himself before he would then position your hips up to him. 
“You want it and you’re gonna take it, right sweetheart?”
“Yes, J-I swear to God…”
“Nuh uh…Me. Swear. To. Me.” He ordered as he bent you into such an arch that he could look into your eyes as you nodded. 
“I swear to you, JJ…Whatever you want to do to me, I’m yours…” He smirked.
“Then perk that perfect little ass up for me and bounce it against me exactly how I like it…you know how…And I want you to flick yourself…do it slowly because I want this to last…” You nodded. “And you don’t get to come until I say.”
“Yes, JJ…”
“Goooood girl…” He purred, his cock suddenly inside of you as you whimpered. 
“Yes…” You grunted. “YES-” You spoke again behind tear eyes and clenched teeth. 
“You gonna make it worth it for me?”
“Yes…”
“Then why the fuck aren’t you moving?” You began to move forward, allowing his cock to find the familiarity of your inner walls clenching around him. With a hand to the bend of your neck, he held you in guidance to slow your desperate thrusts before you were left solely to his motions and the white knuckled grip into your shoulder. 
“J Please…it’s-”
“Don’t you dare complain. I’ve waited two weeks without doing as much as stroking and you’ve been walking around making it worse…wearing my shirts with no panties-yeah I noticed…” He paused to set a smack to your ass, “Bending over and moaning…on your knees and looking up at me like you know drives me crazy…So YOU don’t get to complain.” But as he spoke these words, he would take pity on you as he had been relentless, minutes fading into an hour and beyond as he’d break long enough to prolong his own release. All the while, edging you and spouting those dirty words that kept you ready for him without aggression reaching to the forefront. 
“JJ…”
“Turn over.” He finally allowed you a reprieve before you obeyed, his hands quick to pull his shirt from your torso as he was quick to attack each breast. Your fingers ran through his hair but were quickly set over your head. 
“You’ve done enough…I know you’ve had to wait too…So you’re gonna come,” He was silenced by his own motions, wincing at the reinsertion of his cock to your welcoming sex, “With me…It’s only fair-”
“Please, JJ…”
“Fuck…I missed those whines…Ke-k-keep whining for me…shit…” He grunted, head folded into your shoulder as you dug your nails into his arms, his muscles contracting to each movement, before his paces grwe to that familiar speed of a near climax. 
“You can stop and still win, J-” You reminded him. 
“Not a fucking chance in hell. You wanted it…you’re gonna get it. All. OF. IT!” He clenched, battering into you, finger rushing across your clit as you would squirt,allowing him the perfect slick to pound his final desperate movements into you before then falling at your side, breathless, pullingyo in to him. 
“To be honest…I can’t believe I lasted THIS long…” He confessed as you nodded. 
“I’m sorry, JJ…For being desperate-”
“I’m not.” You looked up at him, his hand softly tracing your jaw. 
“Because it means that you have 200 reasons to make it up to me.”
“200-orgasms?!” He nodded. 
“Before the end of November-” Your eyes widened. 
“That’s like five a day, J!”
“And this was one…” He winked. “Now do whatever you have to, get some water-shower,although that’s redundant…because when I come back…I’m using that perfect…dirty…little mouth…” You were left in awe as he moved back into the crux of The Chateau, applause awaiting him. 
“Guess you missed out, JJ…” Pope teased. 
“You can gladly have it. Because after that last dollar is spent, I’ll still get to have sex…” He teased as you blushed when hearing him speak in regards to you. But you couldn’t help the fact he was right…
Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection
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thechaoticdruid · 8 months
Text
[We'll Protect Each Other]
Paring: F!Tav x Astarion
Plot: While staying at an inn in the Underdark an unfortunate chain of events forces Tav and Astarion to protect one another.
Content Warnings: Fiercely protective Tav, Tav uses She/Her pronouns, Tav is kinda feral and unhinged, blood, gore, threats of/ literal genital trauma, we are going game of thrones up in this bitch, sexual harassment, brief allusions to Astarion's trauma, violence, so much fucking violence, death, Tav is heavily based on my own Tav Winnie. Oh and a little fluff.
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Tav hummed as she sat at the tavern table, glancing down upon the suspicious letter she'd received last night. 
‘I'll see you soon, True Soul.’
Been a while since she was called that, almost everyone who had referred to her as a ‘true soul’ was dead now so being addressed as such was rather peculiar, but at the same time not completely unwelcome. Tav smirked slightly, the idea of a new foe to face sparked excitement. It had been so long since the human druid had a good fight.  Since the defeat of the Elder Brain she'd been staying in the Underdark, looking after a horde of hungry vampire spawn. Her days weren't uneventful in the slightest, but gods did she miss adventuring. 
Tav's lover was over at the bar getting the two something to drink. Since the Underdark has become home to seven thousand life-challenged individuals this particular inn had made preparations to feed them should any appear at the establishment. He tapped his claws on the table, waiting for the bartender to finish mixing up their beverages as an uneasy feeling coursed through his body. Astarion had felt unfamiliar eyes on him since he'd left to get him and his beloved some refreshments. His blood red eyes darted back and scanned the tavern. Tav was still waiting at their table and mostly all the other patrons there happened to be deep gnomes, all who seemed much more concerned with friendly banter. But then he spotted someone off in the corner. A tall half-orc whose eyes seemed trained on him.  Astarion wasn't exactly sure how he didn't spot the big oaf sooner, usually he was far more perceptive than this, but perhaps his hunger had him quite distracted. The elven vampire tapped on the bar table impatiently wondering exactly what was taking the bartender so long. 
Eventually the half-drow barmaid brought over the drinks.
“Sorry for the wait.” She said softly, “not used to preparing food for our night time visitors.” The half-elf handed him a cold mug of dessert wine and a warm mug of ethically precured lifeblood.
Astarion took the drinks before turning and making his way back.  The half-orc then made his move, walking straight towards him.  
“Have a drink with me, handsome?” The half-orc gave a flirtatious smile, making the elf internally sigh in annoyance.
“No, I think not. My partner is waiting for me, you see.” Astarion gave a forced smile before attempting to make his way back to Tav. A large green hand was placed on his shoulder.
“Come on! Surely you're not talking about the little rat’s nest of hair? Sweetheart, I could show you things that little human wench couldn't even dream of-”
The elf quickly slapped his hand away. 
“Oh, I highly doubt you could show me anything I haven't already done myself. Now bugger off.” Astarion growled out the last part, barring his fangs at the orc before stomping off. 
Tav glanced up as Astarion took a seat next to her. He had a look of discomfort on his face, but quickly bushed it off as he noticed her attention on him.  “I'm back, my sweet.” Astarion smiled at Tav, setting their drinks down before planting a kiss on her cheek.
“You okay, doll? You seem uncomfortable.” Tav put her hand on his shoulder only to receive a small smile as his hand covered her own.
“I'm fine, love. Just a little annoyed by the wait is all.” Astarion squeezed her hand gently, not wanting her to worry. 
“Okay….” Tav said before looked back down at the letter, taking a sip from the wine Astarion had brought her. 
“What's that?” Astarion asked, sliding an arm over her shoulders before taking a sip from his own mug and internally sighing.
Rothé blood….
“Just an ominous threatening letter left by gods know who.” Tav said casually, nearly making Astarion spit out his blood. 
“Ah darling, perhaps you should be a just little more concerned about this?” 
“I'm not afraid. Let them come get me! I've been itching for a good fight for ages!” Tav clenched her fist, a wicked grin spread across her face. 
“Oh Tav, you know what that bloodlust look does to me.~” Astarion flirted leaning closer against his love. “But maybe we should be at least a bit more careful?”
“We’ve dealt with plenty of baddies before, Star. It’ll be fine!” Tav insisted.
“Need I remind you that there are only two of us now since the others have all gone their separate ways.” Astarion sighed, “I just worry for you, my dear.” 
“I know babe.” Tav planted a kiss on his cheek affectionately before saying,”I'll tell you what, once we get everything sorted out with the other spawn we'll recruit some new traveling companions and go after that ring of the sunwalker thing I heard about.” This brought a smile to the vampire’s lips. 
Large footsteps were heard stomping over to the table. Astarion glanced up seeing the half-orc from before approaching them.
“Sorry about my behavior before sweetness. I've just never seen such a breathtaking looking creature such as yourself. So, how about you ditch the runt and i'll take you somewhere we can get you something better to drink…. Perhaps someone?~” 
“Are you daft? I told you to bugger off!” Astarion snarled, glaring daggers at the large male. Astarion kept his arm around Tav in a protective manner, but it was more so for his own comfort truth be told. The half-orc was really making him uneasy. Tav could feel Astarion shake a little. 
“Hey, no need to be like that, I just want a piece of that tight little elven as-”  The half-orc was suddenly silenced by a scimitar pressed dangerously close to his groin.
“You really don't want to finish that sentence, big guy.” Tav said calmly, not even looking up at the green bastard. “You know I’ve been really itching to slit someone's throat lately, but you….I think I might have fun with you…” She said before finally turning her head towards him, a sadistic grin spread across her lips. 
“Y-You better watch yourself y-you little b-b-bitch!” He whined out the last part feeling Tav press her blade harder against his clothed crotch.
“Oh I like this!” Tav breathed out, voice unhinged and full of bloodlust as the half-orc began to shake in terror. “A big stupid creep thinks he can push me around just because I'm small…It's almost cute how pathetic you are. I should cut you open and show everyone what you really are inside. A gutless coward!” Tav stared at him intensely. The wicked grin spread across her lips didn't falter even for a second, until eventually she sighed.
“But it'd be rude to get blood all over Lyn’s nice clean floors.” Tav said, speaking of the half-drow bartender. “So you're going to leave now and never come near my lover again, or I'll cut your cock off and shove it down your throat. Understand?” Tav spat, nearly stabbing the blade of her scimitar through the orc’s pants.
“Y-Yes m-ma’m!” The half-orc said in a high pitch tone. 
“Good boy.” Tav pulled her blade back, “now get the fuck out of my sight.” She growled, causing the green creep to turn and make a run for it, slamming the door on his way out of the tavern. All the gnomes had seemed to halt their chatter and look over to the two lovers.
“Tav…” Astarion muttered in an irritated tone, “I didn't need you to defend me! I had that completely under control!” He fussed, clearly embarrassed because of the scene Tav had caused. 
“I'm sure you did sweetie, but you can't just expect me to sit by and do nothing when some pervert keeps treating you like a piece of meat.” Tav said calmly. 
“Darling that orc was huge! What if you hadn't been quick enough!? What if he comes back!?”
“Honey, I can literally turn into an owlbear.” Tav rolled her eyes. “I know you’re capable of kicking ass, Star. I have no doubt about that. But I don’t protect you because I think you're weak. I do it because I love you.” Tav said sweetly, placing her hand against his cheek. “And sometimes it's okay to need someone to protect you…” She looked down at his trembling hands. Fear began to stir in her gut, worried that he might have been triggered by the situation. Astarion simply place his hand over hers and relaxed into her touch. 
“I know. I love you too…It's just…I want to be able to protect the both of us…” Astarion glanced off to the side.
“You can! Babe, you're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for! You practically carried our team the entire time we were worm brained!” Tav placed a second hand on the other side of his face. Astarion rolled his eyes with a slight smile.
“Gods Tav, you're such a bad liar.” 
“I'm not lying!” Tav chuckled, “I'm pretty sure you have more kills than the rest of us combined! You're so stealthily and quick! The fuckers never saw it coming!” 
“Well perhaps I could be willing to allow you to win this little debate. Granted you continue to list off all of my many talents, or you can just call me beautiful and we can head upstairs for the evening?” 
“You're beyond beautiful, my Star.” Tav purred. 
        •~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
The night was quiet as Tav and Astarion rested on the top floor of the Inn. Both of them snug in their bed. Astarion always had a tendency to curl around Tav as she slept and he tranced. However, tonight Tav lay there, eyes wide open. Her mind for some reason wandering off to a memory brought on by today's events.
“I assume he belongs to you.” The drow’s eyes leered over Astarion lustfully as she spoke about his as if he was nothing but cattle.
“Excuse me? I don't appreciate you talking about my friend like he's a fucking piece of property.” Tav snapped, stepping in front of her companion protectively. Of course she'd see him that way. The drow treat all their men like cattle. The fact didn't make Tav any less insulted. 
“Now now. No need to speak like that. I only wish to make a trade.” The drow said calmly, however her stare seemed to harden a little. “What is your name, spawn?” 
“It’s Astarion but hold on!” Astarion put his hands up as if to keep some distance between him the drow. 
“Astarion, I've dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a little girl.” She purred. Tav shot the drow a look which she ignored, red eyes locked on Astarion’s mouth.
“Let me get this straight, you want to be bitten?” Astarion asked, a look of confusion and disgust filled his face. Normally he would jump at a chance to sink his teeth into a willing person, hells part of him wanted to drain this bitch dry because of how she talked about him, but this drow pretty as she was her blood smelled worse than death itself! Just being in her presence was enough to make him want to gag! 
“To feel my life’s essence slipping away, to dance on the edge of death, yes I want it.” She said, nearly swooning. “I'll even compensate you. A potion of legendary power. It's not for sale, but it's yours if you bite me.” 
“I will have to decline.” Astarion said immediately.
“Excuse me? This is a once and a lifetime opportunity and you're squandering it!” 
“I gave you my answer!” Astarion spat. The drow woman ignored him and immediately turned to Tav. 
“Can't you talk some sense into your obstinate charge!?” She demanded.
“He said no. The hells do you not understand?” The druid snapped.
Gods, Tav couldn't help but think back to her first encounter with Araj the drow blood merchant. This incident today reminded her far too much of it. Except this time it might have been worse. The fucking orc actually tried to put his hands on him.
Tav furrowed her eyebrows and glanced back over to Astarion’s peaceful looking face. She knew he could handle himself in a fight, but the situation was different. These sorts of things really got to him. Tav ran her fingers gently through his hair. She needed to keep safe no matter what. Sleep took Tav eventually and she snuggled into her vampire’s embrace, enjoying the coolness of his skin.  And for a while the two were at peace, blissfully unaware of what lurked in the shadows.
It was probably about midnight when Tav woke up. She whimpered and felt around the bed for her lover, only feeling emptiness in his place. 
“Astarion?” Her eyes slowly blinked open and Tav sat up. She glanced around the room discovering the vampiric elf was nowhere in sight.  She tried to rationalize that Astarion was probably just up and around since he didn't need as much rest as she did, but Tav couldn't help but feel anxiety creep its way into the back of her mind.  She got to her feet before slowly feeling a dagger be pressed against her throat. 
“Nice to see you again, true soul…” A familiar feminine voice spoke softly in Tav's ear, causing her to grit her teeth as she looked back. 
“Araj? The hells are you doing all the way out here?” Tav sneered. 
“I needed to see you again. I require your help.” 
“I told you before, you aren't getting any more of my blood and if you even think of bringing up Astarion so help me-”
“This isn't about him, darling. This is about you. I am on the verge of something extraordinary, but I need one key ingredient. Your heart.” Araj slowly dragged the knife down her throat and down between her breasts.
Tav rolled her eyes before chuckling.
“Sweet, but you know I'm spoken for.” In a swift motion the druid slammed her foot down on the drow's own before grasping hold of her wrist and forcing the blade away from her body.
“You idiots! Get in here and help me!” Araj suddenly shouted, prompting the door to open, revealed two half-orc male’s and a female. 
With them was Astarion bound with silver chains wrapped around his body. Cloth was tied around his mouth, preventing him from speaking, but Tav could very clearly hear him whimpering in pain. The silver was burning his skin! 
“Now cooperate or else! I'll make sure our darling bloodsuck-” Tav didn't even give the drow a moment to speak any further before knocking the blade from her hand and slamming her fist into her face with enough force to knock Araj to the floor. Araj hit the ground with a thud, seemingly knocked unconscious from the blow. The druid’s eyes quickly went back to Astarion who was struggling and letting out muffled cries of pain, but despite this he looked far more pissed off than afraid.  That didn't calm the rage that was stirring deep inside Tav however, and the fact that the same gods damned perverted orc from before was holding onto Astarion's silver chains just pushed her over the edge. 
Without even thinking Tav dropped to the ground transforming into a huge direwolf before letting out a deep bloodthirsty snarl and lunging right for the familiar half orc. Her jaws sank right into his groin, causing him to let out a blood curdling scream.
“Bloody hells! Get that thing off of him!” The female half-orc shouted. 
“But the vampire!?” The other male orc replied.
“He's tied up you dumb fuck!” She shouted before turning to attack Tav. Tav yanked her head back hard, tearing a chunk out of the half-orc’s flesh and trousers. The half orc continued to scream as Tav spat his unmentionables out before he tumbled over and began to bleed out on the floor. 
“That crazy drow bitch better pay us good for this.” The remaining male half-orc muttered before charging at Tav alongside the female. 
Tav quickly dove under his legs before bucking him to the ground with her back and darting right for Astarion. Astarion shook his head as his wildshaped lover approached him with a doglike whine and sunk her teeth into his chains, trying to he them off him. She was only able to allow one of his arms to slip free. Astarion quickly tore the cloth around his head. 
“For gods' sake Tav! Look out!” He shouted, before suddenly the female half-orc slammed into Tav from behind, wrapping her arms around her in a headlock. 
“I've got her! I've got her!” The female orc shouted. Tav growled loudly before turning round and sinking her teeth into the orc female’s shoulder. In the struggle the two ended up tumbling down the stairs and out the front door of the tavern.  The half-orc male was about to run off after his female companion when suddenly he noticed Astarion had somehow slipped free from his bindings. The vampire’s skin was quickly healing from the burns left from the silver, and his eyes almost appeared to be glowing red. He clenched and unclenched his fists revealing sharp claw-like fingernails and the next thing the half-orc knew were icy fangs piercing his throat.
Outside the tavern, Tav and the female orc were still going at it. The half orc threw a punch to Tav's head knocking her back before she took out a blade and took a stab at the direwolf only for Tav to dart out of the way at the last second and take a bit at the orc woman’s leg. 
“You godsdamn mutt!” She yelled, kicking Tav in the face before plugging her blade into her back.
Tav howled in pain and backed up, blood trickling down her back and staining her fur.  She let out a pained whimper as she looked up at the half-orc.
The she-orc smirked triumphantly.
“Not so high and mighty now are you, druid?” She huffed starring Tav right in the eyes. Without another word Tav lunged at the orc with a monstrous growl, sinking her jaws into the green female's head. 
“GODS DAMNIT!!” The half-orc screamed. Tav sunk her claws into her shoulders as she stood up on her hind legs and dug her teeth into the orc's skull.  Then with a harsh whip of her head Tav snapped her opponent’s neck. The druid then released the orc, letting her drop to the ground.
Tav dropped back down on all fours with a sigh, panting a little from the fight. She turned her head and yanked the blade from her back. Luckily in this form she wouldn't actually be harmed. But she was honestly feeling far too tired to stay in her wildshape now. Slowly she transformed back, taking a moment to regain her strength. 
“A-Astarion…I-I need to get back to Astarion…” Tav told herself. 
“I'm afraid you won't be seeing him again.” Araj suddenly stepped out from the shadows, blade in hand. “I am not leaving without your heart!” She hissed. 
“Oh for fucks sake! Don't you ever get tired of being a psycho!?” Tav hissed, she quickly reached for her weapon, but this time Araj was quicker.  She stabbed her blade into Tav's leg making her freeze. 
“What….W-What is this!?” Tav sputtered, suddenly feeling her limbs begin to tingle and go numb. She tried to move, but her body just felt so heavy. 
“A paralysis potion I've been keeping for a rainy day. I'd hoped I wouldn't have to use it. I have no idea what affects it will have on your heart unfortunately, but I can't let you get away.” Araj stopped as she watched Tav whimper and squirm on the ground. The silver haired female wiped her blade clean off the potion before she then undid the buttons on Tav's shirt, exposing her chest.
“Now I'll need a nice clean cut. I don't want to damage your heart too badly.” The drow licked her lips before dragging the tip of her blade over Tav’s chest. “Just close your eyes and it'll be all over…” Tears began to form in the corners of Tav’s eyes, heart pounding so hard she was sure it’d burst right out before that damn drow bitch would even have a chance to cut into it.
“Get away from my Tav.” Astarion suddenly growled out, appearing behind Araj who quickly turned and struck at him with her blade. 
“Not until I have her heart!” Araj hissed.
Astarion ducked out of the way, unsheathing his own blade and taking a swing at her.  His dagger barely nicked the side of her cheek as she dodged, drawing a few drops of blood.
“Gods below, it's even more foul smelling than before!” He made a gagging sound.
“Mock me all you like! It won't stop me!” Araj took another stab at Astarion aiming right for his throat, but he quickly grabbed her wrists and pushed her back towards the ground. Now that he was free of the tadpole his vampiric strength returned and it gave him an edge in battle.
“You know darling, I think I may have had a sudden change of heart. I may just bite you after all.” Astarion said, forcing a grin upon his face. 
“What-” Confusion flickered over her face for a split second, immediately being followed by Astarion sinking his fangs into her neck, but instead of drinking her blood, he tore her throat right out.  
Astarion immediately spat out any of her blood that had gotten into his mouth before watching her drop to the ground, a twisted smile plastered over her face. “I-Incredible….” She choked out before suddenly coughing up an alarming amount of blood. 
 He quickly disregarded her lifeless body and swiftly moved to Tav who was still paralyzed on the ground. 
“My love, are you alright?” Astarion knelt down and cradled her head with one hand.
“I-I can't m-move….S-She got me with a paralysis poison…” Tav croaked out.
“Hang in there lover.”Astarion frowned, looking down at Tav with worry. He immediately scooped her up bridal-style. “I'm going to take you to Dalyria. She should be able to cure this.” Astarion carried Tav back into the tavern. Several of the patrons were whispering to each other. Some seemed deathly afraid of Astarion and his love. The vampire spawn simply ignored them.
“I don't think we're going to be welcome here any longer, Star.” Tav said as Astarion set her down on a sofa near the tavern fireplace.  
“Forget them, darling. We're leaving anyway. Now sit tight while I grab our things.” Astarion said, kissing her forehead before quickly going upstairs to get their packs. Tav sat by the fire, she could see the barmaid Lyn giving her an awfully ugly look. 
Good gods, it's not our fault we were attacked.
Tav rolled her eyes. It didn't take long for Astarion to return with their things.  Tav weakly nuzzled her face into his neck as Astarion scooped her back up into his arms. Tav stared up at him with adoration as he carried her out. 
“You did it, you know.” She hummed.
“What are you on about?’ Astarion glanced down at her.
“You protected me!” Tav exclaimed with a weak smile, “and thank the gods you did. I was sure I was a goner.”
“You give me far too much credit, my love. I still allowed you to get injured. You did a much better job than I.” Astarion huffed. 
“You kidding? You just saved my life Astarion and this isn't even the first time.” Tav insisted. “Look, from now on no more arguing over who protects who. We protect each other and that's final.” 
“You're being awfully demanding of someone who can't even move her arms, my dear.” Astarion chuckled, “but I am grateful all the same.”
He planted another kiss upon Tav's forehead before continuing on to meet up with his sister and hopefully cure his beloved’s ailment.
The two set off, leaving the tavern to deal with three battered corpses and a mysterious trail of blood…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note from TheChaoticDruid: Phew! Finally got this thing out! Honestly despite finding her a very shitty person and absolutely despising how she treats Astarion I can't help but find Araj interesting. The whole thing with blood and heck the creepy shit you find in her basement makes me want to know more about her. Kinda went a little overboard with this in terms of violence I guess, but I kinda wish there were more bg3 fics with some action in them. Also, I may have kinda ignored how silver and vampires work in DnD, but BG3 plays fast and loose with lore so I guess I will too. Hope you like it!
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galedekarios · 1 year
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you know, orin's lines when she kidnaps gale actually make me feral:
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"but what stays my hand? obstinancy? misplaced morals? simple fear of dying? you?"
it makes me wish that larian had done orin differently. i think i talked about this before, but i would have loved for orin to take the protag's li instead of being tied to who you DON'T take with you and who is NOT romanced, as well as only from a select few characters (lae'zel, halsin or gale).
i thought a lot about a what if scenario:
what if they had made zethino the dryad at the circus in rivington her canon disguise (in addition to perhaps one or two random ones as it is now).
imagine if larian had incooperated answers from the love test and used it not only to lure the potential li into a false sense of security, but to also use them as ammunition against the protag after she has taken their li:
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you let your guard down and your actions have consequences.
"but what stays my hand? obstinancy? misplaced morals? simple fear of dying? you? no, the inevitable has been delayed for too long already - no more, i say. there will be no reprieve for us, no lazy afternoons on my balcony in waterdeep." and the punch to the gut that would be for the protag, which would delight orin, of course.
and she'd smile her twisted smile that doesn't belong on gale's face before she triggers an illusion of the spell as she does in the scene that's already there:
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and after, perhaps: "ah, ah, so it was you who stayed his hand. (10 minutes of unskippable unhinged cackling bc orin)"
anyhow. i'll just be disappointed forever that this opportunity was missed.
it was right there and it could have made orin seem like an actual threat to you and yours, while also highlighting her capabilities as a villain, and providing an extremely personal motivation/connection to seek out the temple of bhaal. it would've made the game feel more responsive to the choices you have made not only in prior acts but also up to now.
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ljubitelj-sonca · 4 months
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How to find your way around Joblr!
Hello! This is your first time on Joblr and you're wondering how this works? So relatable, been there, this website can be confusing!
But do not fret. We're happy to have you here and want you to have a good time.
So here's a guide on how to exist on Tumblr dot com and how to have a good time being a fan of Joker Out on this website.
Collectively written by the Joblr Discord Server.
Here you'll find:
what you are getting yourself into
a step by step guide on how this website works
spoken and unspoken rules of RPF on tumblr
First of all, what are you getting yourself into?
Pros:
So many talented artists, writers, editors, gif makers, meme makers, it's actually wild! And they all do this for free!!
Long rant posts with detailed analyses on whatever new photos Damon has taken of the guys
Pics, Gifs, vids and clips of gigs, interviews and their social media, also often throwbacks (with sources/credits if the original posters didn't take them themselves)
So many lovely and unhinged thoughts people leave in the tags when reblogging your posts (more on how that works later) so you see direct reactions to what you've made
A very chill environment with virtually no drama or arguments (and we really mean that <3), the only thing we're feral about are the guys
Cons (or something):
The "what is Kris's hair colour?" discourse pops up every couple months
So many polls (but are we really complaining about that?)
You're intrigued! Nice! How does all this work then?
Step 1 - your blog:
Create your blog and customize it.
Unfortunately Tumblr is dealing with a lot of bots that look exactly like new blogs. So if you keep your profile picture and header as the default one, blogs you follow might think you're a bot and block you. TO PREVENT THAT: change your profile pic and header to something you like and maybe add something in your description, even if it's just "Hi, I'm just here to lurk, do not perceive me".
That shows other blogs that you're a real person and they'll enjoy having you as a follower.
Step 2 - general tags:
Take a look at some tags you enjoy.
Tumblr is all about tagging, which is essentially nothing other than a hashtag, but they're only at the very bottom of a post, in a separate little section. (Writing "#joker out" in the middle of your post does absolutely nothing, but if you use the tag "joker out" in the tags section, your post will appear in the "#joker out" tag on tumblr)
For example, we have tags for each of the boys, as well as a general "joker out" of course. But there are also tags for ships (more on ships later!). Find some you're interested in and take a peep inside.
(You can also follow tags to find them easier again later.)
Step 3 - reblogging (and more tags):
See a post you like? Reblog it!
Reblogging is just about the best thing about tumblr, it's truly the easiest and quickest way to connect with other blogs.
A reblog is a little bit like a retweet on Twitter, it is not a repost! You are taking a copy of the post and slapping it onto your blog, kinda like a scrap book. But the fun thing: you can leave your thoughts!
Here's where tags come back into play: they're not only to file your posts and to have them appear in tags, they're the place to leave any little comments you might have.
For example: you see a post with a gif of Kris at a gig, he's wearing an outfit you like and fun sunglasses. So you click on the little reblog button. At the very bottom of the post, you have the gray bubble with the tag "#add tags to help people find your post" (or whatever it corresponds to in your language) (or just "add tags" on mobile). Click it, and write what you think.
#Kris i missed you!! #he looks so good in that jacket #and also thank you to whoever gave him those sunglasses #<3333 #Kris Guštin #joker out
Then when you reblog the post, it will appear on your blog with those tags at the bottom. The tags you leave on a post will only be on your blog. Someone in turn can reblog the post from your blog and leave their own tags.
The original poster (short: op) will see all the tags people leave on their post in their activity and other people can see them when they click on "notes". It's so much fun to click through what people leave in the tags, be it your own post or someone else's.
Of course you don't have to reblog posts, the like button is there too. But reblogs are the only way posts are spread throughout the fandom, as there is no proper algorithm (which we're all very glad about!!!), and they're the way for you to personalise your blog. So reblog liberally! It's how this website thrives!
Step 4 - following blogs:
Follow blogs you enjoy!
In order for posts to appear on your feed (your timeline), you have to follow blogs, that makes sense. So when you find a blog whose posts (or art or writing or whatever they blog about) you like, give them a follow.
Now, on other websites it might be seen as creepy to spamlike someone's account. Here it's like the biggest compliment ever to go through someone's blog and like and reblog a lot of their posts (especially if you leave your thoughts in the tags). It is absolutely flattering!
Step 5 - making posts:
Make posts if you want.
It's totally fine to just exist on this website and to like and reblog stuff, there is absolutely no pressure. But posting is fun!
You made some art? You took a photo or video at a concert? You have a question about something or just a cursed thought? We'd love to see it! Slap it into a post and share it with the Joker Out world.
Add tags about the people involved so others can find it, a little "#my art/video/pic" so we know you made/took it yourself, and even share some behind the scenes thoughts in the tags if you want.
Tags for a drawing can look like this for example:
#this took me so long #but I'm really proud of how it turned out!! #the shading was a struggle but oh welk #*well #tried a new brush #jure maček #my art #joker out
And then others can like and reblog your post with their own thoughts.
Keep in mind: do not (re)post someone else's art/Gifs/writing without their explicit consent! If you do (with their consent), credit them (you can add links to text by highlighting the text and clicking on the little link symbol, then copying the link into the bar. It looks like this.) (Here is a handy guide on how to repost Gifs on Tumblr while giving proper credit at the same time.) Same goes for sharing photos the band, their photographers or their friends have posted on social media: give credit when needed. 
There has been a serious issue with people stealing Gifs off of Tumblr and posting them on Twitter without consent or credit. That is not okay! People spend a lot of time and effort making them, having them get stolen like that is incredibly frustrating!
Step 6 - making friends:
Interact with other people.
Now, we totally get that this is scary. But think about this: everyone else on this website, in this fandom, is just some guy (gender neutral). We're all wimps giggling, kicking our feet at five slovenian men and their music. Honestly, there's nothing scary about us, even if it might feel like it.
But we love making friends! And that doesn't necessarily entail sliding into some DMs to talk to people (but you can do that, most blogs are super okay with that), there are many ways to interact with others on this website.
The tags are one way of course, for your own thoughts or to respond to something OP has mentioned in their post. Making posts and polls and asking people to interact with you is another way, then you can see their thoughts in the tags, how fun is that!
Another way is asks, which is a special bonus feature on Tumblr. When you're on someone's blog, some have a little bubble below their description with "ask me anything" or something along that inside (unless they have turned off the feature). Click that, and you can ask them a question which they can then respond to publicly (or privately) in a post.
People use this feature for writing or art prompts, ask games, birthday wishes, or just to ask random questions or share thoughts. You can even send anonymous asks if you're too shy (some people take advantage of that to send anonymous hate. Do not be one of those people!). But it's always nice to have a face behind the ask.
Keep in mind, not all artists/writers are open for prompts or requests. Some state it somewhere on their blog if they are or aren't, some reblog lists with prompts and explicitly ask for them. If you're unsure, send them an ask or a DM and ask about it.
Then there are also Discord servers of course. There are a couple different ones floating around. If you're interested in the Joblr one for example, feel free to send me a DM! :D
Step 7 - ignoring and blocking:
Saw something you don't like? No stress, just ignore it.
It's as easy as that. The best way to have a good time in fandom, is to focus on what you enjoy. So when someone makes a post you don't like or has a take you disagree with, just scroll past it.
If you feel like the blog and its posts you don't like keep appearing, block them. For real, the block button is your friend. And no one is going to be mad at you, promise.
Arguing on the internet is not fun for anyone involved (you, the person who made the post, everyone who sees your argument), especially when it's about personal opinions (that includes interpretations, ships, even kinks). So it's best to just. not.
There’s also the option to blacklist/filter tags, if you don’t like a specific ship for example, but it’s also really helpful for triggers you’d rather not see! On desktop, you do so by clicking “Settings” and then scrolling down until you see “Content you see”. There under “Filtered Tags” you can add tags you’d rather avoid, and under “Filtered Post Content” you can do the same with, well, post content. On mobile, you go to your blog and click the settings icon, then “Account Settings”, then “Content You See”. There you’ll find “Filtered Tags” and “Filtered Post Content”.
This way, posts that are tagged with the filtered tag or include the filtered word will be blocked with the message “This post contains filtered tags/content”. There’s also a button to view the post anyways, but you do so at your own risk of course! There’s content you’d rather not see behind it!
(Of course, if you see someone being bigoted, being particularly hateful or spreading misinformation, that's a different thing! It's totally fine to defend or correct someone. In most cases, the comment section or even DMs is the best place for that, to keep it about the people involved. Making posts about it, will let it get out of hand and is rarely necessary, unless it's really important.)
Spoken and unspoken rules of RPF (real people fiction) on Tumblr (and by extension: AO3)
(In no particular order)
1. They're real people.
Joker Out's members (and their friends) are real people we know virtually nothing about. We know that we know virtually nothing about them. And we are totally okay with this.
The people we post about, write fics about, draw are fictionalised versions of the real people (maybe with the exception of when we post pics/vids we've taken or share what they've shared on social media). Most of it is made up, because again, we don't know them. And in no way shape or form is anything we write/post/draw speculation about what they might be like in real life. We know this and are okay with this and that's exactly what makes RPF fun.
This way we can just make shit up! Wanna draw them in skirts? Give them random jobs? Trans their genders? Think about different dynamics? All of that is fair game, because it's all made up.
So when we call Kris a princess and Jan a babygirl, we are not reducing them to that or think that they're only like this in real life. In the next sentence, we might call Jan a hunky dude, and both are correct.
Same goes for ships. Ships like Jan x Nace, or Kris x Damon stem from the interactions the real people share with us, but in the end, anything we make of it is entirely made up and doesn't represent the real people at all. Be it an AU or something that could've happened during an event that really happened.
You'll often find disclamers like this (much shorter versions tho) in the beginning notes of fics.
2. Keep fandom in fandom spaces.
Fandom is not a secret, the guys are probably well aware of what's happening on social media in their fandom spaces (though probably no specifics). So far they have not expressed any discomfort with any of it, even encouraged it in some way or another.
If that ever changes, if they ever do say that they are uncomfortable with what is written about them, we will respect that and refrain from doing so. Their comfort comes first.
Still, we don't want them to accidentally stumble across something they haven't been actively searching for, so we keep it on Tumblr and AO3, where it's unlikely they'll just randomly find it.
So please refrain from sharing art/fics on sites like Twitter or Instagram, which we know they frequent, if the artists don't post them there themselves. 
3. Don’t like? Don’t read.
This rule goes for basically everything on the internet and corresponds with Step 7 - Ignoring and blocking, but it’s helpful to repeat it here again.
You might enjoy being in a real people fandom differently than others. Maybe you don’t like reading fics about the people involved, or don’t like some interpretations others have of them. That is totally okay! Everyone enjoys different things.
But if you don’t like something, simply don’t read it - or scroll past it, or block the blog, or filter the tag, you get the gist. Receiving comments like, “this is so weird, why does this exist? Why are people like this?” is incredibly hurtful and will gain the commenter absolutely nothing (apart from others thinking they’re a super shitty person), so don’t leave them. Just go on with your day.
Tldr: Be respectful, be mindful, be creative, be open, and if need be, take a step back. That’s really all it takes.
Alrighty! Now you know a whole lot more about how Tumblr works and how we're existing in the fandom here.
We hope you're staying for longer than just to lurk about what it's like here, and that you're having a good time. We’re looking forward to going feral about Joker Out with you!
If you have any questions, the comment section is a good place to leave them, there others can find them and the answers as well. Or feel free to try out the ask button on my blog <3
129 notes · View notes
ghost-bxrd · 6 months
Note
I just thought of this: Owl Song 🦉Ethiopia AU where Jason finds out Sheila Haywood is his mom and is planning on running away until he remembers Dick has an apartment in Bludhaven, so he goes there instead of Ethiopia because he knows Dick would never leave him meanwhile Sheila did leave him. So he goes to Bludhaven and is just chilling at Dick's apartment, waiting for Dick to get back to Earth.
Meanwhile, Bruce knows that Jason has run away and when he goes looking for clues, he sees Jason has been doing research on Shelia, who's in Ethiopia. The Joker is also in Ethiopia.
Dick gets back to Earth and sees dozens of missed calls from Alfred and Bruce, so he goes straight to Wayne Manor where he finds out Jason is gone and he might be in danger; when Bruce and Dick book it to Ethiopia, they find a burning warehouse and a broken body; Sheila Haywood. But no trace of Jason, so the Joker must have taken him somewhere else.
So now Bruce and Dick are going feral, Dick especially, trying to find the clown and Jason, meanwhile Jason is safely in Dick's apartment, reading or something ☠️
After who knows how long of searching with no trace of Jason, Bruce and Dick start accepting that they may find a corpse instead of Jason. I image Dick goes absolutely rabid in his grief and tears the Joker apart, and they go back to Gotham to begin planning the funeral.
Jason, still safe and sound in his brothers apartment, turns on the news and hears he's apparently dead, and now he has no clue what to do.
Dick, after a while, returns to Bludhaven and sees Jason and thinks he's hallucinating.
Omg Jason would be horrified at the state Dick is in, looking unhinged and covered in blood and very much like he’s on his last straw and when Dick sees him he just—-
Breaks down. Collapsing right there in the doorway. Apologizing and begging for forgiveness for not being there Jason needed him, making those broken little chirrups that are meant to bring Jason closer to him.
And Jason is freaking the hell out because Dick won’t stop apologizing and crying and calling for him even though he’s replying to every single chirp with his own series of trills and warbles. And Dick looks so scared when Jason hugs him, like he’s going to disappear or something, and just—
They’re both crying a lot by the end there.
179 notes · View notes
bruciemilf · 6 months
Note
Hi, I am simply thinking about what the unhinged Elder Waynes would do if they were still alive when the Clown killed Jason
(I mean thinking about them as grandparent menaces in general is INCREDIBLE
Martha and Cass at a vanity as Martha does her makeup and puts her in family heirloom jewelry? Thomas and Alfred lowkey kidnapping unhinged stalker baby Tim? Thomas painting a pregnant Steph's toenails? Martha becoming Duke's feral PTA mom? Thomas "Dick can do a little homicide, as a treat" Wayne? etc etc???)
They have the patience and the resources to wait out Joker being an ambassador or can get him someplace that even as ambassador he shouldn't be.
Martha and Alfred helping Harley get away from Joker (Thomas is so proud his baby girl is a doctor *SNIFF*)
Also Thomas and Martha being involved with protests all the time and getting arrested all. The. Time. Alfred doesn't come with because someone has to be ready to bail them out along with everyone else who got arrested
Anyway. Thomas Wayne kneecapping the Clown for Jason. That's all.
I genuinely believe Thomas would’ve folded Joker like a wet napkin and send that bitch to hell crawling. Protective Batfamily is one of my all timefavorite tropes!!!
Also, Thomas referring to Harley as his baby girl :(( that’s so real. No thoughts, only Thomas beating himself up for not being there (death will do that to a guy) for her, and Harley fearing she’s too inadequate for love.
If the lowest form of life doesn’t find her worthy, what’s the point?
“Oh, honey. You’re too good for that guy. For anyone . And I’m so sorry he convinced you of the opposite,” just cradling her against his chest, the smears of ice cream on her mouth forgotten,
“Let me tell you. When i walk you down the aisle to Pammy, you know what she’s gonna think? ‘The funniest, prettiest, smartest, craziest woman in the world is gonna be mine forever. How lucky am I?’”
And Martha comforts Bruce when he has yet another argument with Jason, over something tiny, but everything tiny is everything sharp for them, — and she tells him,
“I miss your little tantrums so much,” she sighs, petting his hair, not as curly as hers but just as soft, “You used to stomp your little foot and yank on your daddy’s hand. If that didn’t work, you’d run to your papa and screamed until we started laughing. You’re lucky, you know.”
354 notes · View notes
borathae · 8 months
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“Taehyung doesn’t possess patience when it comes to reconnecting with his boyfriend. Jungkook’s there to remind him to take it easy despite the aching longing.”
Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x Vampire!Jungkook
Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut, some domestic Fluff in the beginning, Polyamory!AU
Warnings: Taehyung has major FOMO poor boy, he misses his poly family :(, then Kookie comes back home heheh, this is disgusting nasty porn yall, the neediest vampire sex ever, Hard Dom & Top!Jungkook, neediest sub & Bottom!Taehyung, tears, drool, painful anal without preparation at first because Tae wants it, before Kook decides enough is enough and prepares him, strength & muscle kink, feral play (this is a needy Ripper "hunting" a needy Normal besties), rimjob, anal fingering, anal fisting (the real deal), he takes him into a headlock as he does it, lube enema, dirty talk, huge ownership kink (Tae calls Kook "Owner" and Kook calls him "property"), slight dollification, praise, degradation, hair pulling, big dicks, non painful anal as well, oh Tae you impatient bottom, rough blood drinking, stuff goes up Tae's ass which shouldn't go up his ass jsjjsj, besties you have no idea how unhinged this is, but it is also insanely soft and safe, the most comforting aftercare, they're so in love omfg
Wordcount: 8.8k
a/n: this is based on anonie's idea, i probably made it way hornier than you wanted it but i couldn't help myself, i was ovulating as i worked on it fajdsjfa i feel like i need to write your idea as well hahah keep it tame because this is quite frankly nasty porn bahahha enjoy besties, this is so disgusting omfg 😩💜
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Taehyung has been alone at the estate for five days. Truly and really alone. You, Yoongi and Hoseok are visiting Seokjin and Emma in Gordes. Jimin is currently visiting friends in London and won’t be home for another week. And Jungkook, well, Jungkook has been on a boxing camp trip for a week now. Which leaves poor Taehyung all alone at the estate. 
He could have obviously gone to Gordes as well or went with Jimin, and Jungkook would have probably liked him there with him as well, but Taehyung had a painting to finish. He really wanted to finish it. Being alone at the estate, trapped in the ecstatic state of painting was fun for the first three days, but Taehyung has been beginning to feel lonely. A painting can only distract him that much before the sad state of himself comes creeping up on him.
Taehyung hadn’t even realised how much of his day actually consists of being with his forever family. Be it voluntarily or just simply by existing in the same space together. Taehyung really began to miss those small moments of quality time. 
Painting doesn’t feel as nice anymore and he regrets not accompanying one of his friends. He could be in Gordes right now, sipping French wine with his friends, he could be in London right now chatting with Jimin and his friends, he could also be in some rural American boxing camp, watching Jungkook hit punches at other boxing lovers. He could be somewhere else other than his lonely, quiet atelier. 
Taehyung huffs out air in frustration and drops the paint brush in the water. He doesn’t want to paint anymore. 
He gets up and leaves the atelier and soon his wing. The estate is so big and so empty. Every room he passes makes him feel more and more frustrated. 
Perhaps he could talk to someone on the phone. The time shows eight at night, so everyone must still be awake.
He tries you first. You don’t pick up your phone, but a text message arrives soon after.
-          Sweetest ♡: I’m sorry, my darling but we’re currently at a wine tasting and I can’t talk here. I’ll call back later. I love you ♡ 
Taehyung pouts. A wine tasting?? This is so unfair! He wants to be at a wine tasting as well! 
He sends you an answer with a jealous pout on his lips.
-          Taehyung: Don’t worry about it. Have fun, my darling ♡ 
-          Sweetest ♡: We do. We’re thinking of you, sweetiepie eheh ♡
You attached a selfie of you and the others. Seokjin and Emma are glued together. Emma is grinning brightly, while Seokjin smolders like always. Yoongi has his arm around you, throwing up a peace sign with a toothless smile, while you in contrast show your upper and lower teeth in a cute smile. Hoseok is the one holding the phone, making a cute kissy face at the camera. You all have a wine glass in your hands. 
Taehyung smiles and pouts at the same time. As much as he feels sad about it, he also really likes this selfie. You took this picture just for him, thinking of him, but he wants to be on it as well! It’s unfair! He wants to be on the selfie and not here! 
-          Taehyung: I want to be with you :( I regret my decision of staying here :(
-          Sweetest ♡: Nooo Tete, I’m sorry you feel this way :( maybe you could still book a ticket and come here belated?
-          Taehyung: Perhaps I will truly do this. I shall talk to Jimin first. I need to hear human voices again.
-          Sweetest ♡: Gosh, I understand :( I promise once I have time, I’ll call you back ♡
-          Taehyung: Take your time. I love you ♡
-          Sweetest ♡: Love you more, darling sweetest sugerbutt ♡ 
Taehyung laughs, scrunching his nose. He likes it when you call him silly nicknames. This instantly lifted his mood. He sends you one last text which consists of laughing emojis and a heart, then tries to call Jimin.
His best friend picks up after the fifth ring. Loud techno music fills Taehyung’s speaker instantly.
“Hey Tete, I can’t talk right now. We’re at this rave and it’s crazy loud here. I’ll call you back later.”
The phone call ends again. Taehyung pouts. Well, that was a fail. This is so unfair! One friend group is spending their evening tasting French wine, while the other is getting drunk at a rave. Taehyung has never in his life felt more left out than he does right now. This is so unfair! 
He tries to call Jungkook. Perhaps he will finally give him the kind of human contact he needs. 
“Hey”
“Kookie, he-”
“You’ve reached my voicemail which means I’m currently not available. Leave your message after the beep, I’ll definitely forget to listen to it. Byee.” 
The phone beeps.
“For heaven’s sake, Kook. Why must you start your stupid message with a greeting? Do you have any idea of the hope that I just lost? The betrayal I feel? How could you do this to me? I am aching in loneliness and you betray me so cruelly. I won’t forgive you. Change your voice message”, Taehyung rants and ends the call with a huff of air and an aggressive slam of his finger.
Taehyung feels guilty instantly. This was terribly mean. He calls Jungkook again, hoping that he will pick up, even if he knows that he won’t.
“Hey. You’ve reached my voicemail which means I’m currently not available. Leave your message after the beep, I’ll definitely forget to listen to it. Byee.” 
“Please forgive me. I didn’t mean my last voice message. It is just that…I am so lonely and I need you with me again. I should have never stayed here. Oh Kookie, I miss you. Okay, uhm, goodbye.” 
He ends the call again and stuffs his phone into his pocket. Well, this didn’t help. 
Now Taehyung experiences major jealousy on top of all the loneliness as well. He wants to taste wine and dance at raves and be at boxing camps. He wants to be included! 
Taehyung spends the next hours sulking in the sitting room. Jimin doesn’t call back, you don’t call back and Jungkook doesn’t call back either. Taehyung is going to die alone. This is what is going to happen. He is going to die from loneliness and the grief of being so left out.
Taehyung goes to sleep without any kind of phone calls coming in, but wakes up to sorry messages from you and Jimin.
Jimin sent his message at around four twenty five in the morning.
-          Jimin ♡: I’m so sorry, I just came home from the rave. I tried to call, but you are sleeping already. I hope you didn’t wait for it for too long.
-          Taehyung: I didn’t. It’s okay. I hope you aren’t too hungover. ♡
He opens your chat next. They arrived last night at around two.
-          Sweetest ♡: TETE I'M SORRY IFGORIT TI CALL
-          Sweetest ♡: IM DRUNJ AND YONGUS IS TELLING EE TO STOP TEXT7NG 
-          Sweetest ♡: but I wanma text yiu and say sorry 
-          Sweetest ♡: TTET I.M SORRY I LOVE YOU SO MICH PLEAWE DONT BE SAD YOU VAN COME HEER IF YOI WNAT TO 
-          Sweetest ♡: 😭😭😭
Taehyung smiles. You are cute. 
-          Taehyung: It seems that the wine tasting was successful 🤣 just sleep it off, darling. I understand ♡
He locks his phone again and rolls out of bed. The loneliness still remains, but at least he feels assured that his friends tried to call once they actually found the time. Everyone except Jungkook. He is still giving Taehyung the silent treatment. 
Insecurity joins the loneliness and jealousy. What if he is doing it on purpose? What if Jungkook doesn’t want to talk to him? 
Taehyung spends most of his morning hours analysing every text message they exchanged and looking at every picture he sent. He analyses everything. Every word, every letter and every face he can spot in the pictures. He can see a lot of faces which are exactly Jungkook’s type. And even more body types which are exactly his taste. 
What if he is moving on with people from the boxing camp? What if he is forgetting about him because he has people way more his type by his side? 
Taehyung spends the early afternoon hours feeling sorry for himself and crying in insecurity. Yes, the abandoned estate is definitely not doing him well.
Taehyung is in his wing, feeling sad and lonely, when he hears the front door open. He abandons his painting and uses his powers to get to the entrance. 
He doesn’t even bother to use the stairs, flinging himself over the railing so he can jump down this way. He lands quietly, but still startles whoever walked through the front door.
“Geez! You scared me, oh my god!”
“Jungkook! Jungkook, you are home!?” 
“Hey there, oof”, Jungkook says and grunts, stumbling back as he gets Taehyung throwing himself around his neck. His back knocks into the door from the force of Taehyung’s jump, making Jungkook both laugh and grunt. 
“You’re home! You’re home!”
Taehyung wraps his legs around his waist, using his strength to keep himself glued to Jungkook. The latter drops his bags and slides his hands under Taehyung’s butt to support him.
“Welcome home to me, I guess. Are you okay? Are you crying?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Baby, what’s the matter?” 
“Why did you ignore me? Did I do something?”
“I’m sorry Tae, fuck. I’ve been travelling since yesterday and didn’t have my phone turned on. Did you need something?”
“Yes. You”, Taehyung says and lifts his head.
Jungkook clicks his tongue, reaching up to wipe the tears away. His eyes are soft in adoration. He keeps one hand under Taehyung’s butt, using the back of his other hand to wipe his cheeks and on the side he can reach easier, he uses his thumb to dry his tears. Taehyung leans into the touches, sniffling with the biggest pout on his lips.
“God Tae, you old sap. I’m here now though.”
“Good”, Taehyung says and slams his lips down onto Jungkook’s.
“Mhm”, he lets out, accepting his fate with a fond chuckle. Taehyung isn’t going to break this kiss any time soon. That much is sure.
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Jungkook collides with the wall, gasping loudly at the rough contact. Taehyung latches himself onto him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He whimpers and mewls, sucking on Jungkook’s skin as if his life depended on it. 
“Tae, fuck”, Jungkook purrs, rolling his eyes back sensually and tilting his head to the side. Taehyung’s fangs grace his skin sometimes, his long fingers dig deep into his flesh. His boyfriend is desperate and he lets Jungkook feel it.
“Fuck baby, that feels so good, fuck”, Jungkook purrs, groping Taehyung’s hips to get him closer. He even lifts his knee just enough that Taehyung can hump it. 
He was correct. Taehyung didn’t break the kiss in a long time. Jungkook doesn’t know how long he spent carrying him as he kissed him in the entrance hall. He probably would still do it if he hadn’t set him down gently and made the mistake of breaking the kiss. 
“Can I at least take off my coat?” he asked, but Taehyung didn’t let him.
Taehyung ripped it off of him and then grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to drag him upstairs. Jungkook followed with laughter and attempted complaints to slow down, but Taehyung merely silenced him with deep kisses and needy groping. 
Jungkook doesn’t know how long it took them to get to Taehyung’s wing. The walk isn’t long normally, but Taehyung kept pressing him against whatever surface closest and then proceeded to kiss him forever. Truly, Jungkook didn’t even get to breathe properly, let alone speak words.
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Taehyung lifts his puffy lips from Jungkook’s heavily marked neck. He groans as he does, grabbing his boyfriend by his clothes so he could drag him again. Jungkook lets it happen with a laugh, throwing his head back in joy.
“Fuck Tae, just let me come home. I was on a plane not long ago, I’m disoriented.”
“Come home with my help”, Taehyung answers him and throws him onto his atelier’s fur rug.
Jungkook falls, laughing loudly because the entire situation is hilariously cute to him. He loves being welcomed home this way. He really does. 
“Fuck Tae, you needy baby”, he laughs. His dark hair is a mess, Taehyung messes it up even more when he mounts his lap and then drags him into a sloppy kiss by his hair.
Jungkook purrs deeply, kissing him back happily. His strong hands come to grasp his boyfriend’s body, dimpling the softness of his thighs and marking his waist as his’.
By now, it is clear to him what this night will bring. Bodies reconnecting in the most carnal of ways. He doesn’t dislike this idea. On the contrary, the sweatpants he’s been wearing have become rather tight around his crotch and breathing is so difficult when all he can do is fight for air. He missed Taehyung. He really did.
Jungkook wasn’t supposed to come home for another week, but couldn’t take the distance anymore. With a yearning heart, he booked a plane ticket and decided to surprise Taehyung by coming home earlier than planned. The aching for his warm touch and lovely voice was just too grande. Jungkook had hoped that Taehyung would welcome him home passionately, smiling into the kiss now that it is finally his sweet reality.
Taehyung’s weight is atop his swollen cock, grinding and grinding and grinding against him in needy riding motions. The chuckles once present on Jungkook’s swollen lips get replaced by deep purrs of desperation.
“Fuck. Tae”, he murmurs between kisses, “I’m hard for you. Fuck. So hard.”
The kiss breaks through Taehyung’s will. Jungkook is left gasping and chasing his lips. Not for long however because then they are busy parting in shock as he watches Taehyung rip his own clothes from his body. Yes, truly and honestly rip. The fabric rips easily under his immense strength. Not even the leather belt stands a chance, getting thrown to the side.
“Damn baby…”
Once entirely naked and exposed, Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s shirt. His heavy, swollen cock slaps against his own stomach with each movement, but neither man cares right now. Taehyung because he needs to get Jungkook naked and the latter because he fears for his shirt’s life.
“Wait! Don’t!” Jungkook blurts out and sits up to take it off quickly, “don’t rip my clothes. I like them.”
“Hurry up, please”, Taehyung begs, leaking onto Jungkook’s lap because his cock is so, so lonely. He is kneeling for now, giving Jungkook space to move.
“Jesus fuck Tae, what’s gotten into you? I’ve never seen you that horny before” Jungkook mumbles, taking off his pants as well.
“I was so lonely. Oh Kook, I was so lonely.”
“I’m here now, baby.”
“Please don’t listen to the voice messages I left.”
Jungkook meets Taehyung’s eyes. He is smirking playfully while Taehyung seems embarrassed.
“I am serious.”
“You know that I really wanna do it now, don’t you?”
“No. They’re stupid”, Taehyung says and hooks his hands in Jungkook’s briefs.
Rip!
“Hey!” Jungkook gasps, watching with big eyes as Taehyung throws his destroyed briefs over his shoulders, “what the hell? I told you that I’ll do it, didn’t I? Huh? Where did you get that lube from? Tae wait, what are you doing?”
Taehyung scrambles onto Jungkook’s lap higher and pushes him down into the rug again. Jungkook moans, connecting with the floor in a low thump.
“Tae give me a min- holy fuck”, Jungkook gasps and arches his back, gripping Taehyung’s waist desperately. Taehyung is jerking his cock quickly, using lube to make it slip easier, “Tae…holy fuck ahmmm”, he purrs deeply, looking just a little dazed.
“I need you”, Taehyung chokes out and positions himself over Jungkook’s cock.
“Tae, you didn’t even stretch”, Jungkook gasps, sitting up in horror as he watches his terribly unprepared boyfriend lower his hips closer and closer to his cock. He grips his hips, tries to stop him but too late. His unstretched hole comes in contact with Jungkook girthy cockhead. The resistance even hurts Jungkook and he has the easier job of sinking in, “baby, stop that.”
“Be quiet”, Taehyung murmurs and stubbornly pushes down. He rim protests in stinging pain.
“Hey, you’ll hurt yourself, hey”, Jungkook tries to stop him. He really, really does, but Taehyung is stubborn and he is desperate for cock.
He tries harder. Jungkook’s thick tip breaches his hole. The resistance breaks with a snap and then Taehyung sinks down three inches within the blink of an eye.
“Ah”, he lets out, convulsing in obvious discomfort.
“Holy fuck, you’re so tight”, Jungkook croaks, gasping for air as his brows shoot up in surprise.
Taehyung sobs, pushing his hips down even if his hole begs him to stop.
“Hey stop it please Tae”, Jungkook speaks softly but with worry in his voice, “come on, get off. I’ll eat you out, finger you until you’re loose.”
“Shut up”, Taehyung spits, finally lifting his head and giving Jungkook view of his tear-stained face, “I don’t want to be stretched. I don’t care about the pain, I just want to be with you again. Stop telling me to get off of you. Do you not want me? Is that it?” he babbles and sobs.
“Tae, no”, Jungkook gasps, cradling his cheeks, “of course I want you. Hey, don’t cry, hey it’s okay”, he whispers and begins littering his face with worried kisses.
“Then stop saying that”, Taehyung gets out and whimpers.
Jungkook bottoms out. Taehyung’s walls are almost painfully tight around his cock, his rim squeezes so harshly around his base that it feels as if he was wearing a cockring.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna make you cry. I just worry”, Jungkook whispers and wipes his tears, “doesn’t it hurt?”
“I don’t care. I want to be with you”, Taehyung says and drops his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck. He hugs him, burying his left hand deep in his hair and gripping his upper arm with his right hand, “please I want to be with you, please.”
“You can, baby. I’m not going anywhere”, Jungkook assures him, hugging him gently as his hand dances up and down his back.
“Do you want me?”
“Of course I do. I want you so bad.”
“Then show me.”
“What?”
“Show me”, Taehyung insists louder, squeezing Jungkook against him, “show me please”, he adds and whimpers as he tries to move on Jungkook’s cock.
The younger vampire understands. He wants him to do the fucking. Jungkook pushes his legs apart for better support and rolls his hips up. His cock has a hard time shifting inside Taehyung. The pained moan Taehyung releases was expected by Jungkook.
“Don’t you want to take it slow? I can barely move”, Jungkook says.
Taehyung shakes his head, giving his hair an impatient tug.
“Fine. One more time. I’ll move now”, Jungkook says and rolls his hips up.
Taehyung moans painfully again, scraping his nails over Jungkook’s scalp.
“Again. Now”, Jungkook warns him and bucks his hips up.
It is difficult for him to listen to Taehyung’s pained noises. He pulls him closer, trying to ease the pain by spreading his buttocks. It eases some of the pressure around his shaft, he hopes that it eases some of the burn for Taehyung as well.
“Again. Now”, he says and fucks his cock into his tight hole.
Taehyung shudders, fleeing the thrust instinctively.
“Please say something. Are you okay?” Jungkook begs and slides his fingers to Taehyung’s hole to soothe it. He rubs his burning rim in circular motions, keeping his hips still for now.
“It feels so good.”
“No, it doesn’t. You’re fleeing.”
“Please, I’m begging you, please”, Taehyung begs and sobs against Jungkook’s neck, “please don’t stop.”
“Fuck”, Jungkook gets out, gripping Taehyung’s ass to spread it. He rolls his hips up, biting down on his lower lip because the squeeze is incredibly intense. Taehyung’s tight walls basically drag Jungkook’s skin over his own cockhead, giving him sensations normally only a tight handjob brings with it. He drops his hips, squeezing Taehyung’s buttocks before he thrusts up again. It drags and drags and drags. He drops again.
“Fuck, I think you need more lube.”
“No, it’s perfect. Please.”
“It feels like your ass is fucking jerking me off. It’s so tight.”
“Good”, Taehyung convulses in a grateful sob, pressing his hips back onto Jungkook’s cock, “I’m serving you. Owner gets jerked with my useless ass.”
Jungkook throbs inside Taehyung. He widens his eyes, staring at the room with held breath.
“Owner?”
“I’m your property.”
“Tae”, Jungkook croaks and buries his right hand in his hair, “holy fuck, what are you saying?”
“Please tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“That you’re my owner.”
“I am. I fucking own you. Holy fuck, Tae”, Jungkook gets out and growls deeply, gripping Taehyung’s waist to keep his hips still. He fucks up into him. The pressure is still there, the squeeze of his rim didn’t get less.
Taehyung moans painfully, arching his back as he begs to be fucked through it.
“Keep breathing. I own you and I want you to fucking breathe for me, property. Understood?”
“Yes”, Taehyung mewls, nodding his head vigorously. He is drifting away into a headspace he hasn’t been in for a long time. Jungkook should have never ever been gone for as long as he did, because Taehyung should have never left this headspace for as long as he had to.
“That’s it. I like when you behave. I’ll do it again. Breathe in.”
Taehyung obeys.
“And out.”
Taehyung obeys for a second and then Jungkook’s cock stretching his hole makes him sob instead.  
“In.”
Taehyung obeys. It doesn’t hurt when Jungkook pulls out. It feels good. Like something, which wasn’t supposed to be there, is finally getting removed. Of course that’s it. Jungkook’s cock is still an unwanted object for his hole. Of course it feels good when he pulls out and therefore removes it.
“Out.”
Taehyung obeys. The burn returns. Taehyung can barely exhale before his throat produces another pained whimper. He pushes back. He wants it to stop burning. He needs his body to understand that Jungkook isn’t unwanted, that his cock is familiar to his hole and that he is exactly where he is supposed to be. His heart knows, his brain as well, so why does his body refuse to acknowledge it?
“In.”
Taehyung obeys.
“Out.”
A second then it hurts and he whimpers.
“Why?” he sobs.
“What’s the matter?”
“Why doesn’t it get it? Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not foreign. Why doesn’t it get it?”
“Who?”
“My body”, Taehyung lifts his head to stare at Jungkook with widened, teary eyes, “why doesn’t it want to accept you back? I want to have you back so bad. Why is it making it so hard?”
Jungkook frowns.
“Don’t look at me this way. Please, I’m not crazy.”
“Hey. Stop that”, Jungkook says and lifts him off his lap. He gets on his knees, carrying Taehyung in his arms. He keeps his cock inside because he is aware that if he pulled out, Taehyung might have a mental breakdown. It is obvious in how desperately he clings to him instantly and how he tries to clench even if that makes it hurt even more.
“You’re not crazy. You’re just impatient”, Jungkook speaks to him softly and full of patience. He lies him down on his back, supporting his head until it is safely engulfed in the fur of his rug. He pulls out.
“No. Please”, Taehyung begs, trying to pull him back with his legs around his hips, but Jungkook shakes them off. He grabs for him next, “please. Please don’t do this, please.”
“It’s okay, just keep breathing”, Jungkook assures him and takes Taehyung’s legs to slide them off his hips. He struggles for a bit as Taehyung tries to use his strength against him, “come on”, is all Jungkook needs to say for Taehyung’s legs to fall off of him like limp, useless things. 
“That’s better”, Jungkook praises and positions himself over Taehyung. 
Taehyung looks up at him. Sniffly, teary eyed and pouty. His normally big hands are balled into tiny fists, resting on his chest this way. 
“Who knows what’s best for you?” Jungkook speaks in a soft voice, staring deep into his eyes.
“You”, Taehyung whispers.
“That’s right. And what does that mean for you?” 
“Owner controls me.”
“That too, but…”
“I, I have to let you do what needs to, to be done.”
“Good job”, Jungkook praises and rewards Taehyung with kisses to his overly sensitive neck. 
Taehyung moans shakily instantly, rolling his head to the side as far as it can go. Every kiss placed onto his skin feels better than the one before. Every kiss painted onto his body leaves him trembling for Jungkook. It feels so good to be adored.
Jungkook doesn’t stay on his neck for as long as Taehyung would have wanted him to, but he doesn’t get to complain because he makes up for it by kissing his way down to his nipples and taking them into his mouth. 
Taehyung opens his legs as far as he can. He arches his back, gasps for air and whimpers even louder. His cock is throbbing, his hole is clenching and his veins are filling with electricity. It feels so good. Jungkook feels so good.
And again, he doesn’t stay on his nipples for as long as Taehyung wanted him too. And again, Taehyung doesn’t mind because he makes up for it.
Jungkook straightens up, kneeling by Taehyung’s side, and wraps his arms around Taehyung’s right thigh. He lifts his lower body off the ground and twists it just enough that he has access to his hole. He moans as he buries his face between his ass, closing his eyes because there is no sweeter taste to him.
Taehyung wails up in pleasure, gripping the fur of the rug and twisting it desperately just as Jungkook twists his body to gain access to his hole. He soothes the burn with eager licks, drawing the first moan of honest pleasure from Taehyung’s lips.
Jungkook purrs, furrowing his brows in bliss. Taehyung tastes like sweet lube and hints of his own cock. He licks it off of him eagerly until only the taste of his hole remains. Addictive. His taste is a fucking drug to Jungkook. He growls and buries his face deeper until his nose is surrounded by his musk and sweet scent.
“Kook…”
“You taste so good, holy fuck”, Jungkook lulls and fucks his tongue deeper, grinding his nose against his ass this way. 
Taehyung whines and wiggles, trying to flee because it feels too good to handle. It triggers Jungkook’s hunting instincts, resulting in the Ripper to wrap his strong arms around Taehyung’s hips and keep them still this way. He growls into him, shoving his wet tongue into his hole in an almost punishing rhythm.
“Kook”, Taehyung wails into the rug, “please. Please Kook please.”
Jungkook answers him in growls and his tongue curling deep inside. His biceps is tensing, his fingers are bruising the soft parts of Taehyung’s waist. He can beg all he wants, Jungkook is going to show him how well he can prepare him.
He hates when Taehyung is impatient. It angers him. His boyfriend shouldn’t hurt himself just because he is too needy for his own sake. He should take it slow, stretch until his hole is shaped for Jungkook. His impatience is offensive to Jungkook. How dare he not take the best care of himself. How dare he neglect himself.
“It’s too much please, it’s too much”, Taehyung begs, grabbing bundles of the rug far above his head so he can drag himself away from Jungkook’s eager mouth.
Jungkook breaks away from him, hunting him with a deep growl of his name.
“Don’t flee”, he orders, grabbing Taehyung’s hips to drag him back.
Taehyung slides over the rug with a squeak and his trembling fingers losing grip on the rug.
“When I tell you that I wanna prepare you, you’re supposed to arch your back and let me do my fucking thing. Understood?”
“It feels too good, I can’t do this”, Taehyung mewls, fighting his boyfriend’s grip just so he can pull him back again. He loves this so much. To be so desired to be taken forcefully turns him on so much. This is exactly what he needed. He needed to be hunted and claimed.
“I don’t care. You’re gonna feel good. Now arch your back.”
Taehyung whimpers, getting to his knees and elbows to arch his back.
“That’s better. Such a good property”, Jungkook praises and buries his face back between Taehyung’s buttocks. He sucks and licks eagerly, feasting on his taste like a starved man.
“Kook please”, Taehyung chokes out, dropping his face on his own lower arm. He pulls his lips back in a mewl, furrowing his brows. He never should have gotten to his knees. It is difficult to keep the position when Jungkook makes his thighs shake so much.
It is moments like these which remind the two men how useless the passage of time is to them. The night ages, but they are still the same. Jungkook takes a lot of time feasting on his boyfriend’s sculpted ass. By the time he finally lifts his head again, Taehyung soaked the rug with his leaking cock and his legs barely want to support him.
“Holy fuck Tae”, Jungkook groans, “holy fuck, I need to bottle your taste so I can always have it. Holy fuck”, he moans and licks a thick stripe along Taehyung’s spine. He forces him onto the ground this way, using his body weight for it. It is an easy task to pin down Taehyung. He lets it happen willingly, tilting his head into unnatural angles just so Jungkook has access to his throat. Jungkook claims it with a guttural moan and his tongue leaving wet strips of ownership on his skin.
“Who do you belong to?” Jungkook rasps.
“You”, Taehyung whimpers.
Jungkook purrs, wrapping his stronger arm around Taehyung’s throat so he can take him into a headlock.
“Who owns you?”
“You.”
Jungkook drags Taehyung into a different position so he was spooning him. They are so close this way. Jungkook’s thick, swollen cock presses against Taehyung’s ass this way. Taehyung gasps for air in the tight headlock, drooling all over Jungkook’s arm.
“Who dictates your every step?”
“You”, Taehyung presses out and trembles.
“That’s right”, Jungkook closes his arm tighter around Taehyung, dragging his parted lips over his temple. He runs his other hand down his side, sliding it under his thigh, “lift your leg.”
Taehyung obeys happily, panting in excitement. Now it is finally time. He was patient and Jungkook will finally reward him with his cock. He lifts his bent leg as high as he can, arching his back so Jungkook has even better access to his needy hole.
“There we go. Such a good property”, Jungkook rasps and fills Taehyung’s hole.
With his finger. One of it. He is being purposefully cruel at this point. Taehyung could easily take three.
Taehyung huffs out air as much as he whimpers, pressing back into Jungkook’s hand in an attempt to get more.
Jungkook watches with a dirty grin on his lips, keeping his finger still so he can feel every desperate clench Taehyung’s hole is doing.
“Please”, Taehyung begs.
“Please what?”
“More. Please more.”
“But Tae. I need to prepare you.”
“Please Owner, please don’t do this to me, please”, Taehyung chokes out and grips Jungkook’s lower arm, “please, I need more please.”
“You’re adorable”, Jungkook rasps and buries two more fingers in Taehyung’s hole.
He can literally feel the relief in Taehyung’s sigh, watch it in the way his entire body relaxes and smell it in the thick droplets of pleasure seeping from his cock. He was so tense, but suddenly grows limp in Jungkook’s arms. As if Jungkook’s fingers pressed a button and shed his body of every burden ever.
His eyes roll back and close halfway, his mouth opens without ever closing. This is true bliss. This is how he looks when he finally experiences true bliss.
Jungkook feels a warm tug on his heart, his stomach flutters. He has the prettiest boyfriend. Look at him relaxing on his fingers. Look at him getting high on the feeling of them. Look at him being so perfect.
Jungkook leans down and kisses his cheek, keeping close afterwards. He begins moving inside him, fucking his fingers in and out slowly and curling them each time they press against his prostate.
“You’re so pretty”, Jungkook whispers.
“Kook”, Taehyung keens, spilling tears on his arm. He is pretty. He is desired, he is loved, he is wanted. His body grows so weak in relief that his leg drops and his hands slip from Jungkook’s lower arm.
“Hurts?” Jungkook asks, chasing him.
“More.”
Jungkook obeys, burying his pinkie inside him as well. His hole welcomes him greedily, swallowing his hand until he sits inside him to his knuckles. He throbs and convulses around him, burying his face in Jungkook’s arm. His moan is muffled like this, Jungkook feels it against his skin.
“Isn’t that so much better, hm?” Jungkook whispers deeply, “to let me prepare you and show you how slutty your hole can get? Mhm? Isn’t that so much better?”
“Yes”, Taehyung mewls, nodding his head vigorously. He pulls his lips back again, squeezing his eyes shut, “ah, ah, a-ah.”
“Keep moaning for me, that’s it. Such a good property. Fuck, I own the best boy”, Jungkook praises, twisting his hand deep inside Taehyung.
“Ohgnng”, Taehyung chokes out through gritted teeth, twisting a bundle of the fur rug. Jungkook watches it happen, just as he watches how much his fingers shook as he did it.
He repeats what he did before. Hand deep inside him. Twist it. Left and right, left and right, left and right. Shape his hole, stretch his rim, fill his walls. Twist, twist, twist.
Taehyung begins shaking so sweetly, drooling so much onto Jungkook’s arm that it is running down his sculpted paths by now.
Out again. Jungkook picks up the thick, wet pleasure Taehyung’s cock leaks and covers his hand with it. 
“How’s my boy doing, hm?”
“Good…”
“That’s good to hear. Such a good property, I love owning you so much. Now breathe for me.”
Taehyung obeys, feeling dizzy. This is the best and safest headspace he has ever been in. He is owned. Desired. Pretty. Wanted. Taken care of. He is so safe. So, so safe. 
Back again. Jungkook fills his boyfriend with his hand. No fingers left out. Hand slickened by Taehyung and body so close to him. Taehyung takes Jungkook’s fist as if he was born to do so, sobbing into his arm because nothing will ever prepare him for the fullness. There is no resistance, no pain. Just pleasure and the ecstatic knowledge that he is able to take an entire hand. His rim sits around Jungkook’s wrist, his walls pulsate around his hand.
“How’s that?”
“Good”, Taehyung whimpers, throbbing around Jungkook’s fist.
Jungkook curses under his breath, and drags his lips to Taehyung’s ear.
“You take a fist like no other, Tete”, he whispers raspily, twisting it inside him.
“You’re making me climax”, Taehyung mewls, convulsing around his fist.
“I am?”
He nods his head vigorously.
“Do you want it?”
He shakes his head vigorously.
“I figured. That’s my good property, you know your fucking place”, Jungkook praises and pulls his hand out.
Taehyung hole complains loudly, gaping around nothing.
“Oh god, it hurts”, Taehyung whines, twitching in the agony of getting edged.
“I know”, Jungkook says and sits up. He slides his arm from under Taehyung’s head and grabs the older vampire’s hips to lift them and fix his position. He turns his body so he was resting on his tummy, then places his hips back into the rug. He fixes the position of his bent leg, running his palm up the back of his thigh. He pushes his hips into the rug, forcing a shaky whimper to escape Taehyung because the movement grinds his cock against the fur. It sticks to his cock and feels rough. Taehyung opens his trembling fingers just so he can bury them deeper in the fur.
“There we go. You’re such a good property, letting me fix you like you’re my pretty doll.” 
Taehyung mewls, shaking as if Jungkook just fucked him deep and hard. He loves being a doll. He especially loves being Jungkook’s doll. He loves it so, so much.
Sometimes, when Jungkook makes him feel especially safe, he slips into a doll-like headspace and when that happens, Jungkook truly controls everything which happens to Taehyung. He carries him around, fixes his positions, plays with him, dresses him up and most importantly bundles him in cozy blankets once he is done. And Taehyung loves every second of it, feeling so so safe that sometimes he ends up crying happy tears in Jungkook’s arms.
Taehyung loves being Jungkook’s pretty doll. He loves it so, so much.
Jungkook’s hands leave his body. Taehyung lies limp just like Jungkook’s pretty doll is supposed to, waiting for him impatiently patient. The sound of something being twisted open meets Taehyung’s ear, the sound of something being placed aside follows. A slight wet sound, then something seems to spread the wetness. Silence.
Jungkook’s left hand touches his butt and spreads it apart. Cool wetness touches his rim. Pressure. A stretch. It is nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s fist.
Taehyung mewls, trying to make sense of what is happening. Jungkook just inserted something in his hole, he knows that much, but it doesn’t feel like his fist nor his cock. It is hard and has plastic rills all over it.
Something cold and wet begins filling him up.
“Wh-what?” Taehyung gets out, reaching behind himself until he can hold Jungkook’s wrist, “what are you doing to me? What are you putting inside?”
“Do you feel it?”
“Yes.”
“How does it feel?”
“Cold. Wet.”
“Guess”, Jungkook says and more of it begins filling up his insides.
It is liquid. Very obviously. Taehyung tries to think even if his brain is getting scrambled. Liquid. Jungkook clearly opened something. Whatever is inside his ass feels hard like plastic and has the exact rills on its shaft like a bottle does. The lube bottle. Jungkook is feeding him lube straight from the bottle.
“Lube”, Taehyung gets out and whimpers, arching his back into the sensation.
“That’s right. I’m giving you a good, thick lube enema. Mhm? I know you like that, property.”
Taehyung sobs, convulsing desperately. Jungkook chuckles almost tauntingly.
“I knew you would like that”, he says and stops applying pressure on the bottle, “you know what to do?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Jungkook pulls out the bottle. Taehyung tries to clench instantly, but fails. There is just way too much lube inside and Jungkook’s fist stretched him too wide. The lube seeps out of him in big, gooey globs, covering his ass on its way down.
“Sorry”, he squeaks, reaching behind himself in a desperate attempt to scoop it up and put it back inside. It doesn’t work. All it does is get his fingers messy.
“You’re cute”, Jungkook chuckles and swats his hands away, “you won’t get anywhere like this. Let me”, he says and presses Taehyung’s hips snug against the floor.
He pushes his cock between his ass, feeding his dripping hole his cock in one good thrust.
“Ah!” Taehyung screams up, throwing his head back. 
“There we go, that’s gonna keep it inside”, Jungkook lulls and chases the sensation with sensual rolls of his hips.
Taehyung curls his toes, arches his back, clenches his hole, shakes. He can’t control any of the reactions washing over his body. He finally gets fucked by Jungkook. He needed his cock like nothing else. It doesn’t hurt anymore, it simply feels wonderful. The stretch is nice. The girth and impressive length fills him up so well and because Jungkook put so much fucking lube up his ass, there is not even a hint of friction. 
“How’s that, my doll?” Jungkook asks him, running his big hands along Taehyung’s soft sides until he has his waist between his fingers.
“Faster, please”, Taehyung squeaks out.
“Like this?” Jungkook asks as his hips pick up speed skilfully. He keeps Taehyung pinned down with both hands on his lower back and his huge thighs caging in Taehyung’s. 
“Kook, Koo-ook, oh god Kook!” Taehyung moans, throwing his head back as best as possible.
“That’s so much better. Fuck, I love fucking your ass when it’s like that”, Jungkook growls, drilling his huge cock up his boyfriend’s noisy hole, “don’t give me any of that unprepared, tight shit. Fuck, I love it most when you’re stretched. So fucking good, you’re such a good fucking property. Fuck.” 
“Owner, ah Owner please.”
“Please what? Use your words.” 
“Harder. Please!”
“You drive me fucking insane”, Jungkook growls and puts strength into his fast movements. Skin slaps against skin, lube spreads everywhere.
Taehyung wails, convulsing under him in pure ecstasy. He is getting drilled like a fucking animal. His hole keeps squirting lube, his ass keeps jiggling with each impact. He can feel Jungkook’s hip bones bruise his ass. It will begin hurting soon. Good. That means he is getting fucked hard and fast. 
“Harder please! Harder!”
“Urgh Tae”, Jungkook spits and bares his fangs in an angry scowl. He doesn’t hold back anymore. He isn’t human and neither is Taehyung. There is no fragility needing to be considered, no weak bones or long healing times. Jungkook doesn’t need to hold back and it’s fucking glorious. 
The marble under his knees cracks and breaks, forcing him to sink just a little deeper into Taehyung because of the sudden dent in the floor. Jungkook growls, breaking marble again as his toes try to grip. 
“Fuck Tae. Fuck”, he spits, chasing the ecstasy of being so fucking free. No restraints. No fucking restraints. Freedom. Hot, wet freedom lies right between Taehyung’s legs and he is the only one getting it. He is getting all of it. Fucking all of it.
Taehyung wails, clawing at the rug because somehow he still hadn’t expected Jungkook to go so berserk on him. He wanted it, knew that Jungkook could do it and yet he still wasn’t ready. It feels so good that Taehyung swears he is in a constant state of orgasmic bliss. That would explain why his prostate burns so much and why his stomach keeps convulsing. 
“You’re making my fucking cock grow. Holy fuck, Tae”, Jungkook growls and Taehyung swears he might rip his hole apart.
He reaches behind himself, clawing at Jungkook’s wrists until the younger vampire takes his hands and pins them above his head. He growls above him like a predator, drilling his fully grown vampire cock into his hole. Not an inch he leaves out. Not an inch misses out on Taehyung’s wet, burning insides. 
“Stay still”, Jungkook commands in a demonic voice. He breathes in through gritted teeth, making a deep grumbling sound as he does. He breathes out, the grumbling is louder, bordering that of a growl. 
“Big.” 
“Yeah, I’m big. So fucking big”, Jungkook hisses and squeezes Taehyung’s wrists together, “take me. Take all of me. You’re my property. Holy fuck, I fucking own you. You’re mine. Mine. Mine. Mine”, his voice loses more and more of its humanity the longer he chants. 
Taehyung is crying at this point, drooling into the rug as his nose becomes a snotty mess. It is obvious by now, he can’t stop fucking cumming. Jungkook’s cock is so big. His hips are punishing. His grip possessive and his words territorial. It makes Taehyung cum without a break in between.
“Mine. You’re mine. Mine, urgh Tae”, Jungkook growls and gives in. He buries his fangs deep in Taehyung’s neck, forcing the older vampire to scream up in a mixture of shock, pleasure and discomfort. 
Taehyung tries to flee, writhe away, get the fangs out his neck. Jungkook doesn’t let him shake him off. He slams his hand onto the back of Taehyung’s head and applies pressure. The fangs in his neck grow, his cock does as well. Jungkook is losing his humanity. Even the last little bit of it. He is an animal, a monster. This is his truest form.
Jungkook growls and huffs out air like an angry bull, sucking on Taehyung’s neck as if his life depended on it.
Sudden acidic burning fills Taehyung’s veins. It truly hurts, forcing him to writhe under Jungkook helplessly. And the most fucked up part of it? Taehyung has to fucking squirt because of it. He reaches behind himself and twists Jungkook’s hair to pull him tighter to his neck while his own grown cock squirts into the rug.
Jungkook growls and moans, shooting his acid deep into Taehyung’s neck just as his huge cock shoots far up his ass. His. Taehyung is his. He makes sure that his body remembers in more ways than one. Pumped full of his cum and his acid, Taehyung is truly and perfectly marked as Jungkook’s possession. 
Jungkook tenses up soon, dropping onto Taehyung as paralysation sets in. His huge cock is still throbbing inside him, his mouth is open and leaking saliva diluted blood all over Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung is destined to lie still and let Jungkook regain his control. He is heavy and stiff on top of him, his hot breath smells like blood and acid. Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut, crying softly. He is owned. He loves being owned. This just healed him. To be a prey so desired, to be devoured and brought to his limits. Taehyung feels so beautiful knowing that he could get Jungkook to lose control in such ways. He was desirable to him. He was good. Taehyung feels so beautiful and loved. So, so loved.
Jungkook begins moving soon, huffing out growled breaths as he pushes himself up onto his hands. He is still dripping blood from his mouth, his face is contorted into his truest form. Taehyung stays still, not daring to move and check up on him. Jungkook sounds scary and Taehyung has been reduced to a trembling, scared little thing. A happy thing, but scared nonetheless.
Jungkook pulls out of Taehyung’s ass and grips the lube bottle. He flips it to the bottle side and pushes it into Taehyung’s gaped asshole. This is calculated. This had a reason. Taehyung shouldn’t close up yet, he shouldn’t lose Jungkook’s cum. The bottle was the only thing big enough to fill his gape.
Taehyung whimpers, writhing helplessly. 
“Don’t move. If I come back and see you having spilled my cum, I’m gonna hurt you till you’re crying. Got it?” Jungkook commands in a demonic voice and gives the bottle a soft push.
“Yes”, Taehyung squeaks.
“Good. Pray to my fucking name until I’m back”, Jungkook orders and stands up to leave Taehyung fucked and used up on the rug. 
He is stumbling and panting, using furniture and walls to support himself. Humanity has to return to him. Jungkook is fighting the voices on his way outside.
Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut and does what Jungkook asked him to do. He starts praying. Praying to Jungkook’s name as if his life depended on it. The bottle in his ass is cold and therefore hurts. Jungkook shoved it so far up his ass that it is impossible to push it out. Not that he wants to push it out. It isn’t Jungkook’s cock though. Taehyung begins trembling as he begins missing him.
As if he sensed his boyfriend’s longing, Jungkook returns. He kneels down behind Taehyung and touches his lower back. 
“You kept it inside. Good job”, he praises and pulls the bottle outside. 
Taehyung hole makes a slutty sound and stays gaping. Part of his insides is showing itself to Jungkook. The latter traces it with his fingers, forcing whimpers out of Taehyung.
“I love when you gape”, Jungkook says and touches his thick rim with the tip of a buttplug. 
Taehyung tenses up, arching into the toy. He knows what it is. He can’t wait for it. 
Jungkook stops teasing and pushes. His gaped hole takes the toy easily, closing snug around it. It is a huge toy, but it is the only toy which could possibly fit right now. Jungkook shifts it from side to side until he is happy with its placement, then dances his hand to Taehyung’s inner thigh.
“There we go, now you’ll stay my property until I set you free”, he says and flips Taehyung with a push to his thigh. 
Taehyung rolls over happily, looking up at Jungkook with glassy, devoted eyes. The latter continues caressing his inner thighs studying his cum covered cock and messy stomach. His vampiric face looks back at Taehyung. Black blood covers his chin, neck and parts of his chest.
“This wasn’t the last time I pump into you”, Jungkook says, “got it? The night’s still young and the estate’s empty for another three days. You’re gonna leak my cum for a week once I’m done with you.” 
Taehyung whimpers, nodding his head obediently. 
“Good that you understand.”
Taehyung lowers his eyes.
“You’re a bully.” 
“You get off on it.” 
Taehyung glances at him. Jungkook’s hard expression softens. Humanity returns to his eyes. 
“How are you doing?” he asks him, massaging his waist gently. 
“Ruined. I feel used up.”
“You are. I used you up”, Jungkook says and climbs over Taehyung. He takes the latter’s hands and pins them above his head, looking down at him with warm eyes, “but I own you, so I can do whatever I want with you.” 
“You fed from me.” 
“You always say that I can.” 
“You can”, Taehyung blinks tears away, “I feel your acid fight my healing.” 
“Is it unbearable? I’ll suck it outta you.”
“It’s not. It’s proof.” 
“Proof?”
“Proof that I’m yours. That I’m your possession”, he spills tears, “that you want me.” 
“Tae”, Jungkook returns. The loving, soft-spoken Jungkook returns. He cradles Taehyung’s cheeks and wipes his tears. He kisses his trembling lips and kisses his closed lids until his lips taste nothing but salty tears, “Tae, of course I want you. Tae, come on. Of course I do.”
“I know”, Taehyung whispers and smiles, “I just need to know for myself. I was so scared that you would forget me.”
“You were?”
Their eyes meet, racing between each other as Jungkook keeps caressing his cheeks and Taehyung holds his waist. He is sitting on Taehyung’s stomach, putting weight on it. 
Taehyung nods his head, “I’ve analysed every photograph you sent me. I’ve memorized every face which wasn’t yours. They all look like your type.”
Jungkook shakes his head, “you are my type. Our poly family is my type. Not them. They’re just people who like the same sport as me. You were never in danger.” 
“I wasn’t?” 
“Of course not. Why do you think I came here a week earlier than planned?”
“Because you wanted your bed back?”
“No silly, because I missed you”, Jungkook says, pinching his cheek softly.
“Really?” Taehyung breathes.
“Of course. God Tae, I could never forget you my silly boy”, Jungkook says and begins peppering his face with kisses.
“Really?”
“Of course, my baby. Have you looked at yourself?” 
Taehyung lowers his eyes shyly, “I don’t know.”
Jungkook sits up and clicks his tongue in distaste, looking down at Taehyung with a disapproving gleam in his eyes, “good, now I know where I’m fucking you next.”
Taehyung gawks up at him with parted lips and bated breath.
“In front of the mirror so I can show you all the things I love about you.” 
“Oh”, Taehyung lets out and giggles. 
Jungkook scrunches his nose, chuckling fondly. He pinches Taehyung’s cheek, leaning down to kiss it afterwards.
“You’re cute. I love you, my teddybear.” 
“I love you too, my snugglebunny.” 
The two vampires exchange a giddy look before Jungkook can’t take it anymore. He climbs off of Taehyung for the sole reason of picking him up bridal style. 
“Where are we going?” Taehyung gasps, pressing himself closer instinctively.
“In front of the mirror. We’re continuing. I promise to be gentle this time around.”
“Already?” 
“Got a problem with that?” 
“No”, Taehyung giggles and leans his head onto Jungkook’s shoulder, “no, I don’t.”  
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mandalhoerian · 1 year
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ghost to its haunt, I | leon kennedy x reader
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read part 1: moth to a flame pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader summary: Even if it is full of love, all a ghost can do is haunt. But this time, it has to be different. word count: 6K warnings: angst, hurt no comfort, peppers of fluff as a treat, smut (blink and you'll miss it), leon being feral from day one like seriously he's unhinged, his negative self-talk notes: this installment comes in two chapters. chapter two is still being written and will be published and linked here when i'm done. header template can be found here. we're nearly at the end besties, thank you for sticking with me until the end, and please enjoy.
🌀 read on ao3! 🌀 NEXT CHAPTER
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i. Leon knew right from day one when you’d breached the solitary safety of his shadowed corner in the bar of his unusual drinking choice, that you were tempting and twice as dangerous as a mirage to a parched man lost in the desert. 
In the pleasantly neon-lit sanctuary of a bustling bar, amidst the cacophony of clinking glasses and spirited conversations, he stuck out like a sore thumb with the air of melancholy around him, making people near his booth uneasy with the way he was observing everything — to them, he was not to be approached, as if one look to his way would be enough for him to start a fight, but in reality it was his inability to relax in crowds, subconscious calculating for unlikely scenarios to unfold and contingency plans on how to get away. Yet he’d wanted to come here just once anyway, see what made here one of Major Krauser’s favorites, it was psychological torture, but Leon did it to himself anyway, knowing so.  
You came to Leon first when nobody would approach him, setting a starting point of the pattern in your relationship where this’d be repeating over and over again. 
The stifling hot humidity of the South American forest and how heavier the stench of blood stuck at the back of his nose still followed him around months after, and you tracked the trail like a shark in the water, it was in the way you’d been openly watching him upon spotting him in his corner, in the way you slid towards him in the booth, eyes glinting, seeking, curious, expecting — giving straight away of how fresh you were to this compared to the poor unfortunate soul before you chasing after Operation Javier. 
You looked young, around his age, but had a certain softness and eagerness that reminded him of an unprepared rookie back in 1998, so before you could get a word in, he’d said, “I suggest you walk away for your own safety. You know how this ends.”  
You know how this ends. 
Such first words. What a way to doom an entire relationship and a person. 
If Leon knew how his words had shaped the reality he’d chosen, he’d have gone with something promising, more open, like, “How’d you know I wanted company?” — he’d expressed himself more, made his attraction more prominent, secured you to him better, but he was always about safety and protection, wasn’t he? Paranoid beyond belief, self-sabotaging. Of course he’d warned you about taking caution so you wouldn’t get hurt, especially given what had happened to the previous journalist looking into the operation. 
Your reaction to this was opting to buy him a drink instead of getting intimidated. Leon had made it clear over and over again he wouldn’t tell you anything and to go your own way. You didn’t know anything about him other than being a connection of the White House to Operation Javier somehow and he certainly wouldn’t be the one reporting this back to the base, so he made sure this was about saving one more person’s life from being ruined in vain even after this brief encounter had led to a hasty hookup in a bathroom stall and eventually to a hotel room like he was some teenager with no control over his dick —
You had ruined everything. 
Unabashedly interested in him and just pushing, eager, genuine, passionate as you kept talking about your job in wanting to expose corruption the more he kept things dry and silent, and he just saw the same spark in you that he had once; how naive, how idiotic, how endearing — such respect-worthy dignity and enthusiasm and drive that you had managed to find him of all people in your pursuit. He’d never been attracted to anyone quite like this, not the same way with Ada, not in that elusively mysterious and alluring, dangerous and unapproachable, thrilling distance, but the other end of the spectrum, the sort that fed on kinship and admiration that made him want to protect you from what he knew would happen if you kept going like this. 
Jesus, it should have been discouraging you from this path and nothing more, instead, Leon had been randomly snapped out of years of dissociation and autopilot since Raccoon City, and for what? Mind-blowing sex he didn’t even know was coming for his throat on a random fall night in 2002? 
Really, it was his routine being broken that had done it.
His life was meticulously governed by strict routines and unwavering habits, as if each day were a precisely choreographed fight, a paragon of order and structure. Leon’s world thrived on meticulous organization, where every document, tool, and weapon had its designated place. Even the symmetry of his living space mirrored the precision of his mind, with every item aligned flawlessly, punctuality eventually becoming second nature to him, his internal clock a finely tuned instrument, ensuring he was never a moment late, not at all a result of being late in his first day as a cop. Time was a precious commodity, a resource he safeguarded fiercely, as he understood that even the smallest delay could have dire consequences. This devotion to structure allowed him to remain laser-focused on his objectives, and also avoid hellish punishments back at Offutt Air Force Base located near Omaha, Nebraska where he had spent quite some time as a special agent trainee.
Military would make a clockwork out of anyone, but being trained under Major Krauser had turned him into a well-oiled machine that only had training and mission objectives in mind. Leon used to be highly adaptable and open to surprises before, but his encounter with you had revealed just how unprepared and anxious to impulses he’d been molded to become. Spontaneity had ended up a stranger to him, an unwelcome disruption that threatened to dismantle his carefully constructed world, and as an extension, anything else was regarded as losing control — which was, an unthinkable notion; he had been trained to maintain composure in the most chaotic of situations. 
There wasn’t even the semblance of composure in how he handled you. 
Never in his wildest dreams would he entertain the thought of someone managing to unbelievably, randomly, turn him on so uncontrollably one day that he’d lose his mind enough to risk public indecency in a fucking bathroom stall with pants around his ankles not only once, but twice. 
Sitting on the toilet with your back to his chest, one leg spread wide open over his knee and the other hiked up in the air from his elbow, you basically limp in his arms as all you could concentrate on was shutting your mouth tight enough not to make noise as he wildly bounced you up and down on his lap — and the next thing he knew after blowing his load right after with no rest whatsoever was that he had you flat against the graffiti-stained door separating a bunch of girls from what the two of you were doing, one hand clamped on your mouth, having you press your thighs together so he could languidly slip back and forth against the tight crevice of your wetness and the plushness combined that he had to use all his control for the door to not rattle and feeling your pussy spasm each time he grazed your clit, his head buried in the crook of your neck whispering filth he didn’t know his mind was capable of conjuring right to your ear with no filter —- how much of a pervert you were to be enjoying this when all it had to take was a peep from you for people right in front of you to discover you were getting off to the thought the humiliation of being looked at while getting fucked from behind, all the while it was Leon who was dying to explode from how horny he was that it was unbearably painful. 
And the only thing he could think about was to hell with it all and the hammering of his heart to hear you moan uncontrollably, he could just plunge inside you right then and there, had to bite down on your clothed shoulder to hold back the impulse, hell, it took everything in him to keep his breathing steady and not heave, every second the girls didn’t leave was dragged torture, his legs were trembling from holding back and the sheer excitement, but holy shit was it concentrated ecstasy that had his eyes rolling behind his head when they had finally left and he’d rammed himself in to the hilt so forcefully that the hinges of the door had almost broken off.
You had consumed him whole, your skin, your scent, your taste, wrapping him in a cocoon of warmth and pleasure and just digesting his whole being that he didn’t even have one grain of logic or common sense as a pea brain or nothing — just that he wanted to keep fucking and it was so soft and everything just felt so good and good god Leon was going to have an aneurysm from overheating because of you.    
The post-nut clarity after all that was interesting to say the least. 
A blood clot had to have shot up to his brain for his sanity to have snapped like that … And for him to think this wasn’t enough and he wanted more as you rested in his embrace — in a fucking bathroom stall. He wasn’t a people person. He simply didn’t do this shit in the first place, what was even happening?
Leon didn’t know what to be embarrassed about: of himself for doing this kind of thing in a place like this or disrespectfully exerting a woman to this degree, he had no idea whatsoever where all the talk about getting discovered had come from, didn’t that make Leon the pervert? Good lord. 
He had to be thankful that you were coming down from a high and had no energy to turn around and look at his face, because you surely would see him transition from all shades of red out of shame. What the actual hell had come over him?  
Leon was made aware that night that it’d been such a long time since he’d felt such a visceral physical response to someone that his whole body was in a flushed flurry — the kind of intensity that hadn’t even scraped the top of his heated need, he couldn’t even think before suggesting you two take this to somewhere else better that he could drown in this feeling some more. 
The man who said this basking in your afterglow and the man who warned you about how this ended were two different people. 
The man at the very beginning of this would have known better than to let himself indulge in you. 
But your pull was worse than that of a black hole’s, and in Leon’s mind, him taking you to a hotel room was equivalent in his mind to tossing you over his shoulder like an impatient caveman foaming at the mouth, and he knew he’d looked so constipated and unenthusiastic about it back then because he was trying to keep his shit together and not let his libido rush straight to his head, it was absolutely batshit crazy that his mouth was fucking salivating over you and he had to physically fight not to get hard where he stood, especially after having a taste of how you melted in his arms and he just couldn’t keep his together and — this was unreal, Leon had never went into a frenzy over someone before and you’d just taken it. 
He wanted to be gentle, enjoy it, savor it, and you weren’t even going anywhere, but even after he’d gotten him and you a room, Leon had taken you like he hadn’t fucked in his life before, like his dick had gotten hard for the first time in his life, and pathetically like he was desperate for his skin to touch another human being’s — and you… 
You. 
You had made everything worse. 
He still remembered that exact moment when your hands found his hair, the gentleness of the caressing contrasting his rough rutting, he remembered how the rhythmic squeaking of the bed stuttered and gave it right away that he was caught off guard even though his head was buried in the cushion of your tits — embarrassing, utterly disgraceful, all that you’d done was pet his fucking head and his heart had purred like a goddamn cat, and even more shameful was that he’d come right on the spot when you’d started pulling on his strands, Jesus fuck, he wanted to die on the spot. 
One condom change and a carry to the bed later (because Leon had shattered upon passing the threshold of the hotel door and he’d wrapped your legs around his hips and had you against the door, again) things had finally begun to become mellow and sensual as he’d started enjoying you, significantly calmer and more collected compared to before, paying more attention to how you liked it and what you liked, where you liked better, putting those observational skills to more gratifying uses. 
Somehow this was the most satiated he’d been yet, actually taking in the sight of you struggling against the pleasure brought him the unexpectedly superior fulfillment to chasing his own height. He was alerted and awake, sensitive to the very last cell watching you, endeared, wanting to give you every last drop of euphoria he could just to see how you’d react to it. And the more he explored, the more he couldn’t get enough, so adorable, so sexy, so hot, how could he take pleasure in making someone cry? How and why the hell couldn’t his dick stay down for five minutes? 
By the time he’d finally become downright spent and quenched the fire inside, the sun had already risen, the floor was just littered with ripped condom packets, you were covered in hickeys, bite marks and bruises that he’d questioned if he was a feral animal, and the sheets were… disgusting. 
Leon was a repenting sinner with an imaginary tail between his tails when he’d wrapped you in clean linen and laid you on the sofa, changed the sheets, and straightened the pillows, getting you to pee and drawing a bath for you afterwards, it was mortifying he’d made you basically unable to walk for the time being, and he surely didn’t deserve your insistence that you two share the bath together, twice as horrified and disturbed at the tender intimacy with which you’d washed him, warm fingers massaging his scalp almost lulling him to sleep.  
Sharing the room service breakfast, streaks of golden sunlight of the early hours washing your face and making the white of your bathrobe glow as he tried not to make it obvious he was ogling, you’d tricked him into promising you a date for all that he’d put you through that night, you’d be calling in sick; and Leon was covering his face in guilt and embarrassment inside even though all that he’d presented you was an abashed grin and an, “As the lady wishes.” — stupidly giddy enough to have lowered his guard (like that idiot in 1998) that you hadn’t suggested this because you wanted information out of him but were genuinely interested in his company, in him. 
He wasn’t overthinking it back then, just reveling in your presence, luxuriating in the fluffy, satisfied, peaceful feeling, new to him, not afraid of how it could be ephemeral. He was drunk, and not conscious about the fact just yet.  
The withdrawals had hit right after parting ways with you — this was a mistake, this was a huge mistake, he shouldn’t have promised anything, he shouldn’t even have done this in the first place. Leon had no time for this, couldn’t even keep a plant alive if he committed, didn’t know how it’d work, nobody was allowed to know about the kind of work he did, the world of bioterrorism was a secret kept so tightly it became nooses around the necks of nosey individuals. 
He just couldn’t allow himself to loosen the leash around his normal because if he did let go of himself, he would make a mistake. That mistake could doom you. 
More importantly than it not being fair to you, he’d be putting you in danger just by being in your proximity. 
All that fretting around, putting the stress of wishing to see you again but the garbage feeling he mustn’t (that he hadn’t expected to make him this moody) into exercising more intensely than before, and ending up scaring the folks around the office unintentionally in work, only to feel immediately like spring had come at the drop of a hat when you’d called saying because he hadn’t, apparently, and you were waiting for him. 
This was terrifying. How you made him feel... It was entirely out of his control. 
I suggest you walk away for your own safety. You know how this ends.
Leon should have kept telling this to himself. 
ii. The date was at your place, planned from start to finish by you, an attentiveness and special treatment he didn’t deserve, but Leon got warm inside anyway, especially after you said this seemed like the better option since he didn’t seem to do well in crowds. Something about him being noticed on this kind of personal level had caused him to confuse his right from his left and he was sure his palms were sticky just from that and the way you smiled. 
You’d said you wanted to get to know him, and Leon unfortunately didn’t have enough going out experience to decide if cooking together and then sitting down to solve a murder mystery game was the most creative thing ever or not, because he thought it was. 
At the end of this, he knew you much better, and had shown you himself in a way that wouldn’t be possible by answering questions. 
Leon had approached the murder mystery solving game with a calculated and analytical mindset, trained to think strategically, he had diligently assessed every clue, scrutinizing them for hidden meanings and connections. He hadn’t meant to get invested this much, but he had ended up approaching the game like a covert operation and a blast from the past to his police academy days, examining evidence with sharp attention to detail and requiring evidence instead of just a hunch like you kept hitting him with. Each clue was like a piece of intel, and he’d taken the murder of Mrs. Huntington very seriously. Relying on his instincts, leveraging his experience in decoding complex situations to unravel the layers of the mystery, his logical thinking and ability to tackle every single thread of this one by one had brought structure and organization to their investigative process.
In contrast, you had embraced the game with innate curiosity and unlike him, a childlike interest — like a game should be perceived. As an investigative journalist, he’d seen that you had a natural knack for delving deep into stories and uncovering hidden narratives, embarking on the game with a keen eye for the human element, looking beyond the surface level clues to understand the motivations and emotions of the characters involved. You thrived on the adrenaline rush of piecing together the puzzle, always seeking out the next lead or breakthrough, and brainstorming on the possibilities, which clashed with Leon, leading to a sort of bickering that was entertaining, really. Your inquisitive nature and intuition led you to explore alternative perspectives, constantly questioning assumptions and seeking out overlooked details.
When was the last time he’d had this much fun? Leon didn’t remember. 
All that you’d given him that night was a kiss, he hadn’t minded you halting things before the heavy makeout session that had his brain melting like jello could escalate into something more, and he definitely didn’t mind being hypnotized into saying yes for doing this again sometime in the future — when he should have cut things off. 
Leon really couldn’t seem to think coherently around you.
And, despite his better judgment, there was a third time. There also was a fourth. A fifth. A sixth. Seventh. Until he forgot it was a matter of numbers and he simply kept seeing you — that was it. 
Amidst the unlabeled dates that unfolded between you and Leon, there was an undeniable disparity in your cooking styles. While he considered himself a decent cook, you couldn't help but find his dishes lacking in flavor and spice, often describing them as bland. Nonetheless, there was a silver lining to this culinary discrepancy: Leon's competence in the kitchen ensured that all ten of his fingers remained intact, a feat that seemed elusive whenever you attempted to prepare a meal.
Your culinary misadventures had reached a crescendo one fateful day, as Leon returned home to a scene of chaos. The kitchen lay in disarray, food scattered about, a bloody rag, and a knife ominously present. Heart shooting up to his throat, he practically shouted, "Oh my god, what the hell happened?"
It was then that you revealed your mishap, a deep and severe cut that required stitches. Despite the severity of the injury, you had opted not to seek medical attention to avoid the burden of an exorbitant bill. Unbeknownst to you, Leon possessed exceptional suturing skills, honed through the necessity of tending to his own wounds after the hazards of his missions. He hadn't disclosed this fact of course, but rather emphasized his meticulousness when it came to first aid that he’d taken a course on it in the past.
He kept on boomeranging back to you every time he regretted the previous entanglement the morning after, dreading this was bound to end badly and he should leave you alone. He could… He could get sex elsewhere, he was a dog on a leash because stumbling on physical compatibility on this level had made him an idiot, that must have been it, he thought.  
But that wasn’t the issue at all. Nothing had thrown him off and even affected his daily life the way your absence did. It wasn’t craving the skin contact and fantasizing about the next affair that did Leon the damage, it was simply wanting to see you and be by you that even his appetite was lost along the way — he had been scared of what this was. The utter enormity of it made him panic. 
In the depths of his soul, a bubbling longing simmered up and up, getting close to the surface the more he deprived himself of you, taking over him with an intensity that defied description. His heart echoed with the fading echoes of your laughter, a melody he yearned to hear once more and came back to him when he least expected it — in the field he could chase away all thoughts and concentrate, but in the waking moments devoid of action, his thoughts collapsed toward you, unable to escape the gravitational pull of your absence. A hunger, primal and unyielding, gnawed at his core, a hunger for the touch of your hand in his hair, the warmth of your embrace, the nightmare-free, cloud-soft sleeps by your side. He’d come to find solace in fragments of memories, savoring the remnants of your presence, like faded polaroids etched in his mind. It was unbelievable to notice the world around him grew muted and colorless, as if drained of life's vibrancy, each passing day intensifying the ache, searing his heart with an inconsolable longing, fueling he urge he kept resisting to bridge the chasm of his own making that separated him and you. 
Leon had to accept he liked you despite himself, liked you to the point of no return, and that he was afraid to admit the stronger word. 
iii. He couldn’t tell you who he truly was and precisely because of that, couldn’t fully let you in. 
Countless reasons came up to defend why this was for the best — it not only protected his heart but also protected you by keeping you at a certain distance from all of this ridiculous baggage…
And he took notice of you noticing and being accepting regardless, settling for whatever you could when you shouldn’t. 
He was such a selfish man to keep taking advantage of that to stay however he was able to, a hedgehog’s dilemma. 
Leon had managed to find boundaries of your unpredictability and had managed to establish a routine, an ebb and flow of some sorts, entirely dependent on the volatile schedule of his missions that you had no idea of and tried acting nonchalant about — the absences, the bruises, the emotional unavailability after losses he had to keep to himself. He had to be wearing you down, crawling back through the dirt and the blood and the undying monstrosities only to be mute about everything and go straight for your embrace in search of a moment's peace. 
And what about you?   
The part of himself that was still sane knew he was making you suffer because of his selfishness, stringing you along in this unlabeled affair with the excuse it was with your eventual well-being in mind when it was easier for him — in the sense that if it came to the worst, you’d be able to come out of this on top and just hate and keep blaming him so you wouldn’t be hurt in the long run. 
But it was selfish, he still wanted to keep being around you, though, didn’t have the right or face to say he wanted you, so orbiting you was the best he could afford to do. 
Just for a little longer. A bit more. 
Leon wished you would be done with him and tell him to leave you alone so he could finally get out of your life for good, but in all his returns you welcomed him coming back with open arms. It was the garden of Eden and he didn’t belong there, feeling like a pillager sneaking in and getting whatever he wanted and fucking right off afterwards, each and every time leaving you with less and less and a faded viridescence. 
But he couldn’t stay. Not for as long as he wanted. Never in the way you deserved. 
And before Leon knew it, he and you had toppled two years of his bullshit — and you were still here throughout it all.. 
In 2004, the truth of bioterrorism and the existence of monstrous abominations with no regard for human ethics were thrust upon the world, and wiped yet another Raccoon City off from the map of the mediterranean — and things got so much more confusing in regards to what was allowed to be secret or not.
Unbeknownst to you, it was this incident that unknowingly contributed to the growing rift between you. Leon carried the heavy burden of witnessing the President's decision to deny AUPIT’s assistance to the FBC, leaving him as a mere bystander while hundreds of lives were lost due to the incompetence and inexperience of those involved. Even Terrasave, an organization not known for its extraction expertise, fared better in their efforts.
The Terragrigia Panic became a turning point, a catalyst for Leon's introspection, the weight of the world he couldn’t lift one finger to help pressed upon him, driving him towards self-destruction and an ever-deepening spiral of despair, soul scarred by the consequences of inaction and the haunting memories of present lives lost and a past city long in the dust. He questioned the system that bound his hands, preventing him from making the difference he so desperately yearned for. It was during these tumultuous times that you stood by him, unaware of the inner battles he fought and the toll it took on his well-being, and it made him feel so much worse about everything. 
His heart trammeled with the inevitable conclusion he could no longer ignore, he made the painful decision to set you free from the grip of his own shortcomings. Overwhelmed by a sense of unworthiness and consumed by his own greed, he knew he had to release you, unable to bear the weight of his own inadequacy any longer.
The timing, eerily close to the anniversary of the day he first met you, held a bitter irony. It was as if fate had conspired to test the limits of his resolve, presenting him with the most challenging mission of his life just as he made this life-altering choice. Bound for Spain, his path was paved with uncertainty, fraught with danger — but he’d sworn that things would be different this time and he could actually return, reformed and squeaky clean, somehow this mission could be his saving grace and actually wipe his brain clean of grime and rust.
The break-up had loomed before Leon like an impending storm, and he had steeled himself for the emotional turbulence that would surely follow, however, what caught him off guard was the resignation from you, as if you had anticipated his intentions and thoughts, ready to release him with open arms — eager to say yes the moment the words would slip out of his mouth. 
Devastated would be an understatement to describe him — he’d sat frozen on the kitchen chair, his mind a tempest of confusion and disbelief, the composed and scripted nature of your words waterboarding him as you continued to speak, nonchalantly expressing your expectations of this inevitable departure. You seemed braced, almost as if you had been reading his mind, as if you knew this day would come. The nonchalant manner in which you spoke of his leaving, seemingly devoid of any emotional attachment, tore at his heart. It was like time itself had paused, and Leon felt the dissociation creep in, his mind unable to process the scale of what was happening, the world around him blurring, finding himself lost in a void of numbness. How could it be that you were so ready to let him go? How could you speak of no hard feelings when his heart was shattering into countless fragments?
Yeah, right. 
Betrayal was it. 
He’d felt betrayed by you when he had no right to be angry like that — because he had warned you right from the start. 
You know how this ends. 
You’d taken his advice. Leon should have, as well. 
iv. It wasn’t only his jacket that’d got taken away by the village freaks, but also the watch you had given him as a gift — which the loss of was more personal and lethal to him.
And he had no time to look for it between saving and taking care of Ashley and trying to navigate a much bigger conspiracy. 
Coming to terms with the fact that it was gone, just like you, seemed poetically fitting, a form of karma that he should lose a memento of you when he hadn't proven himself deserving of it in the first place.
At the back of his mind was the memory of you trying to act like it wasn’t for anything special when Leon knew it was the first anniversary of the day you and he met, you just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, walking around eggshells around him with the vaguest boundaries and definitions unspelled so he wouldn’t run away — Leon knew all too well. 
He had mentioned going for some type of Casio G-Shock when recounting he’d been meaning to buy a new one, and you’d apparently paid attention to that, not at all questioning why he would want a solar powered watch with 1312 ft. of water resistance — and had given him another much more sporty Longines stainless steel chronograph watch on the side, absolutely humbling him on the spot with just how much money you had to have spent on these two — and the amount of thought you had put into it. 
Modifications on both watches were specifically allowed by him, he'd gotten your initials and the Roman symbols of that day in the fall of 2002 engraved at the back of them to deceive himself, interchangeably using them, the Casio one in the missions, and the Longines in casual days, not bothering to buy any other watch for himself after that. You would see him wearing it all the time, but fortunately for his abashed pride, never commented on it, having no idea just how important they were to him. 
And it was Ada who casually reunited him with it, her throw of the watch certainly gentler than that of the jet ski key’s, as she was walking away with the Amber, a mysterious, knowing glance in his way, a perfectly shaped smile on her glossy lips. “Here. Consider this an equal exchange. Learn to take better care of special things, Leon.”
Somehow she wasn’t just talking about the watch and it irritated him, but she was right. 
v. The depths of Leon's feelings for you were intertwined with an overwhelming sense of terror. 
It terrified him to realize how much he needs you, how your presence has become an integral part of his existence, that you were now the surface he swam up to breathe after hours in the dark of the ocean, and the desire for reciprocation, for you to need him just as deeply, and knowing that you do but unable to bring himself to do anything about it, all filled him with longing and apprehension, both holding hands hiding behind the walls of his own making, pulling each other back as they kept watching you from afar. 
He feared that he may not be enough for you, that his flaws and past were going to inevitably cause harm and ruin.
The emotions that surged through him when you were near, the way his heart raced and his thoughts became consumed — it was new, it was unknown, it was exhilarating, it was petrifying. The spotlight of the vulnerability he’s put in was a double-edged sword, for it exposed him to the potential for joy, but also, immense pain. 
He could lose everything and it would lay waste to his soul, yet in the face of this fear, he couldn’t bear the thought of pushing you away completely, because the terror of being without you somehow had become equally paralyzing that he couldn’t breathe in the PTSD-rooted nightmares of them anymore.
Thus, you had found yourselves trapped in a state of limbo, unsure of where to go or how to proceed, but it was his fault, he thought of himself as a flightless bird sitting up on a roof with you, who could obviously fly; if he attempted to follow you he could fall, if he let you go you would migrate to warmer lands and would never come back. so you were both stuck there, and none of the scenarios involved — what if he could also fly? What if he could do what he thought he wasn’t capable of?
The thought of losing you now, after experiencing the depth of how far he could go with you; the promise, the mirage, the illusion, the dream, was a sense of impending devastation. And yet, he was plagued by the fear that it may already be too late to salvage what he once had with you. What he could have with you, if he allowed himself to surrender — 
Leon had changed, he wasn’t the same person, but he also hadn’t changed, hadn’t lost himself no matter the cost, hadn’t strayed from the original path he was treading on — he was capable of saving people, capable of changing the ending.  
Spain was as traumatizing as it was eye-opening and life-changing, through the reunion with Ada, the betrayal of Major Krauser, the loss of Luis and the successful extraction of Ashley, one single thread of hope had been holding Leon up and running:
He had to get back to you. 
He would come back to you, no matter what, even from the grave, even knowing there was a chance you wouldn’t take him back. To hell with taking comfort in a self-defined ending, to hell with the facade of protecting you when it was just protecting him, to hell with everything. 
This time, it had to be different. 
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