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#I tried to erase it but I won't go away
scoliosisgoblin · 11 months
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doodles of Void cause i love him
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astraystayyh · 11 months
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can i request hyunjin x touch starved reader?
sure you can!! fluff and a pinch of angst. newly established relationship.
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You never really had a problem with not being held; with living your life without a hand squeezing your shoulder, or gentle fingers trailing down your spine. You got used to it- to patting your own back and holding your hand in the dark. 
That is until Hyunjin came into your life.
Suddenly your touch was no longer enough. You craved much more- you wanted Hyunjin to wrap himself around you, not letting go until all your years of feeling alone were erased from your memory, one by one. 
But you couldn't tell him this, you were scared he'd find you too intense, too clingy. You've only been dating for two months, yet your yearning for him was overwhelming you already. 
You were afraid that the line between loving him and suffocating him would blur, and that he'd want to leave. So, when he held your hand, you always let go first. And when he went to cradle your face, you quickly moved away. You didn't want to discover what would happen if you didn't. 
But today, all your efforts to keep him at arms length went down the drain.
Hyunjin came over after a week of not seeing you. And as soon as you opened the door, he pulled you in for a bone-crushing hug. His head nestles in the crook of your neck, and you can feel him exhaling in relief, as if a huge weight is lifted off of him. His hand is on the back of your hair, smoothing it down gently. "Missed you," you hear him mumble, his breath tickling your skin, "missed you so much." 
"I missed you too," you smile, pulling away slightly from him, as you usually do, but this time he tightens his hold on you. 
You didn't know how much you needed someone not to let go of you until Hyunjin did it. 
You freeze in your place as he rocks you slowly from left to right, his arms still encircling your waist. His warmth seeps from his body to yours, filling your insides entirely. You feel your eyes well with tears, as you realize that Hyunjin likes touching you. That he finds comfort in it as well- by the way he's relaxing under your hold, his breaths coming out softly now. 
He's never hugged you for this long before, and you choke out a sob as he kisses your neck tenderly. "I missed hugging you," he whispers, pecking your bare skin once again. "I missed you," he repeats, trailing his hands up and down your arm, his shin now resting on your shoulder.
Your arms go limp by your sides as he pulls away from you, a wide smile on his face, only for it to disappear when he notices the tears in your eyes.
 "Baby?" he asks, confusion clearly painted across his pretty features. But then you see fear growing in his eyes, as he takes a step back away from you.
"Did you not want me to hug you? I'm so sorry I should've let go when you tried to pull away. I won't- I won't do it again. Please don't cry, I'm so-" You cut him off with your mouth crashing on his. You couldn't bare seeing the distraught look on his face anymore.
"Thank you for not letting go. I needed that so much," you whisper against his lips, your hands cradling his face gently. 
"Really? Then why were you crying?" he asks doubtfully, his eyes racking through your face for any sign of discomfort. 
"Because no one has ever held me as tightly before." You confess quietly, and Hyunjin's eyes soften at your words, his hand reaching up to rest on your own.
"You promise? I didn't make you uncomfortable?"
"You didn't, I promise you," you smile, wrapping your arms around him to further reassure him. He holds you to him instinctively, his hand rubbing soothing circles across your back.
You both hug each other for a while, standing in the middle of your apartment, the sun rays streaming through your curtains basking you both in a golden glow. 
Hyunjin places his chin on the top of your head, and you further sink into his chest. He smells nice, immensely so, and you try to find a word to describe how you're feeling in this moment. But all the descriptions pale in comparison to the warmth cursing through your veins. 
You imagine that this is what butterflies feel when they finally emerge from their chrysalises. When the first breeze caresses their fluttering wings- a need satiated after a long time of waiting.
"I won't let go if you don't," you giggle, your feet growing tired from standing for so long.
"That's the plan, my love."
"We'll hug here all day then?" you grin, leaning a bit away so you'd be able to look at his face.
"Yes," he beams at you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Doesn't that sound nice?"
"It does," you smile, resting your cheek on his chest once again.
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luveline · 10 months
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WOULD LOOOVE to see badass reader get jealous over someone flirting with spencer
ty for requesting ♡ —spencer reassures you when he catches the eye of a receptionist at the ocean city precinct. fem!reader, 1.3k
Hotch lives on coffee lately. Any type from any source, he doesn't care what it tastes like so long as it keeps him awake. You're similar, in that even if you hated it, you'd keep it to yourself. 
But you're frowning in disgust at your cup. Eyebrows wrinkled, lips in a fierce line. Hotch sighs and puts his hand on the back of your chair. "Are you alright?" he asks. 
You've never told him otherwise. "Fine. Thank you." 
"There's water in my bag," he offers. You won't meet his eyes. You probably have a headache. "And aspirin." 
For as long as he's known you and worked with you, you've been as you are now, quiet, stern, with little sense of humour at work and not much more outside of it. The only evidence of your soft heart is how you work like a dog, and how you treat your coworker, Spencer. He's your achilles heel, your tender spot in all the tough scarring. Hotch knows there's nothing anyone can do to make you feel better if they aren't him. 
Hotch turns on the spot to look for him. The case you're working on here in Maryland has hit a lul, and exhausted faces peek out from behind their desks at Hotch's looking. He searches for the short mop of brown hair that's required and finds it in an unusual place. 
Spencer has been waylaid by a receptionist. Glimmering eyes, shiny silver fingernails that tap the desk in front of her as she speaks, the receptionist clearly has Spencer hanging on. He takes a step back and she doubles down, her storytelling audible from across the room. 
"You'll have to see it for yourself, Dr. Reid, it's a sight!" 
Hotch looks at you from the corner of his eye. "I see." 
"Don't know what you're talking about," you mutter. You stand and tip your coffee into the bin, letting the cup fall in after it morosely. 
"Why don't you go and help Reid?" Hotch asks. 
"Help Reid what?" you ask. Your tone betrays you —jealousy, sure, that slight crisp to your words that must hurt on the way out, but worse is the weakness as your sentence ends. You're jealous, and it's upsetting you. "I don't think I want to help him with that." 
Derek swings into the sequestered space you've been using to operate and beams at you like he knows exactly what you're thinking. 
"Isn't it surprising how quiet he can be? Years of catching bad guys and he can't say no to a pretty woman," Derek says, giving you a knowing look.
You and Derek have a half-hearted rivalry in that he loves to flirt and you disapprove. Your soft spot extends solely to Spencer no matter how hard Derek tries to sway you, though as you and Spencer have gotten closer, you've softened.
Hotch thinks that Derek's teasing might erase any progress that's been made. 
"Morgan," he says reproachfully. 
Derek makes a who, me? face but quickly gives in. "Why don't you go save him?" he asks you. 
"He doesn't need saving. Spencer is a grown man who can make his own choices," you say quietly. 
Hotch bites his tongue. Thankfully, Derek speaks up, without any teasing. "Spencer's been expected to  know how to do things without any help since he was a kid. I really think he just doesn't know how to walk away." 
You look down at your hands. Hotch has been doing his job for a long time, and he can guess what you're thinking from a misaligned finger. You don't feel like you measure up to the woman at reception. You're insecure about Spencer's affection for you, because you can't understand why he likes you so much to begin with. Hotch has thought it about Haley, Derek of Savannah. It's a very human doubt.
"Spencer tends to stand straight," Hotch says, bringing the lip of his paper cup up. "Right now, he's leaning away." 
It's in as simple terms as he can put it without outright telling you that he really, truly believes that Spencer wouldn't bother with anyone who isn't you. That Spencer loves you in the young, all encompassing way, even though neither of you seems to have realised the depth of it yet. 
Confident, no air of the girl frowning down at her hands, you leave the nook to approach Spencer from behind. 
"Hi," Hotch hears you say, "you okay?" 
Spencer visibly relaxes. "Hey, I'm fine. Uh, Y/N, this is Anabelle. Annabelle, this is my partner, Y/N." 
"Partner?" Derek asks. 
It's news to Hotch. Perhaps news to you, if the way you take his hand is any hint. It's like you've never held it before, and Hotch knows you have, he's seen you linking pinkies under tables. 
You strangle his fingers with yours. Spencer doesn't move an inch.
"She was just telling me about the sightseeing you can do here. Have you ever seen the world's longest worm on a string?" he asks you. 
"Hi, Annabelle," you say, turning to Spencer with poorly masked whiplash. "We're gonna try narrowing the search radius." 
"Oh, right." Spencer lets go of your hand in favour of putting a hand behind your shoulder, saying his thank yous and goodbyes to Annabelle before guiding you back to the makeshift BAU base camp. "What took you so long?" 
"What took me so long?" you ask.
"I thought you liked me!" Spencer says, teasing, his voice pitching higher. "I didn't know how to tell her I've already read the pamphlet she was quoting. She seemed nice though, right?" 
"She seemed nice, Spence," you agree, a little wobbly still but a thousand times less sullen than before. "I– of course I like you, you know I like you. Right?" 
Hotch is proud of Spencer for how remarkably he responds. Spencer puts his body between you and Hotch and Derek where they're standing to offer you the privacy you prefer, dropping his voice to match your tentativeness. "Yeah, I know. I was kidding. I think they'd have to reassess my position on this team if I didn't know that." He grabs your arm, thumb pressing into the crook of your elbow. "Are you okay?"
"I thought maybe she was flirting with you." 
Spencer shrugs uneasily. "Maybe. It wouldn't make a difference to me. Do you know that?" 
Your head dips down. Hotch can't hear what you say, honestly, he doesn't want to know. Eavesdropping on the people he cares about in their unhappy moments isn't something he makes a habit of, but it's hard not to hear Spencer's response. "Don't say that," he murmurs. "That's not true… We'll talk about it later, okay?"
You clear your throat. "Yeah. Whatever you want."
Derek doesn't hide that he's been listening very well, pulling a crime scene document up to his eye line as you and Spencer pull apart. Your eyebrows furrow into a glare, but it's Spencer who says, "What?" 
Hotch bites back a smile. Derek grins and holds his hands up in surrender. 
"Just nice to see you taking care of my favourite girl," he smarms.
"Stop. You're extremely unprofessional," Spencer says, helping you into your seat unnecessarily.
"And you're not?" Derek asks, gesturing to his hand where it lingers behind your shoulders. 
You finally chip in, apparently back to your regular self. "Only one of us was responsible for a unit wide HR mandate about inappropriate behaviour." 
"You cannot keep bringing that up." 
"Why not?" 
Hotch takes a sip of his tepid coffee. He'd rather not get involved. 
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 13 days
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It's a bit long - maybe it a two-parter? But reader is in love with Eddie and tries to show him, sending him love notes in his locker but he thinks (hopes) they are from Chrissy so she decides to just give up, thinking he will never see her like that so she distances herself completely and he doesn't understand why - she even changes direction when they are about to run into each other in the corridor - and when he finally manages to confront her she just tells him "You won't ever love me like I love you so I am just trying to move on" and he's like "well, how do you know that, you've never given me a chance to love you, you just bailed when I didn't realize you were the one sending the notes!"
Request by @somethingvicked 💞
Angst, fluff, pining.
💞
For the last two weeks you had a secret. It was something you hadn't told anyone, not even Robin.
The note in your pocket is carefully sealed in an envelope that you are going to try and sneak in Eddie's locker.
In the last few weeks you have been leaving love notes for your long time crush Eddie Munson. You had poured your heart out in the notes, it was cathartic. A way to express your feelings that were bursting to be let out and it was nice to watch the sweet smile on Eddie's face when he read the notes.
They were all signed anonymously and you disguised your handwriting just enough so that Eddie wouldn't notice it was you. To be honest you were trying to build up the courage to confess to him.
Cautiously you look around and there is a rare occurrence where the hallway is pretty much empty so you quickly rush over to Eddie's locker and slip the note in.
Heart hammering you hurry away from the locker and feel nerves swirl in your stomach. This note was different, a lot more detailed and lovey dovey than the others, you couldn't help it. You were head over heels for Eddie and even though the notes were anonymous, it felt cathartic to say how you felt.
When Eddie finds the latest note at lunch time, the whole of Hellfire is gently teasing him. His cheeks are pink but his eyes are full of excitement, and an anxiousness to know who they are from.
"Who's going to send this doofus love notes though really?" Gareth jokes and ducks to miss the pretzel thrown at his head while laughing his head off.
Then Eddie perks up, smiles dreamily and sighs. "Hey maybe they are from Chrissy?" He looks so hopeful and the words immediately crush any thoughts that you had in which he might feel the same.
Chrissy. He wanted it to be Chrissy, of course he did. She was the sweetest and prettiest girl in Hawkins High, there was no way that Eddie was immune to her charms.
It hurt you though. All this time he talked about not conforming and yet he falls for the beauty queen. Not that you could be too mad at him, it's not like anyone could help who they fell for. You wish you could have that power, to erase these feelings you have for Eddie.
The thoughts still make you feel faintly nauseated and you get up suddenly, "Sorry guys, uh headache'' it's all you can do not to run out of the cafeteria while blinking away tears.
Thank god no one saw you crying. Then you'd really have no way to explain yourself.
That night you're laying in bed and listening to the most angsty music you can find, your thoughts racing about what happened today and stomach churning at what it meant.
You knew deep down that Eddie might not feel the same and at least that was confirmed. It was time to stop indulging in dumb fantasies, it felt like the small bit of hope you had clung onto had faded and now you had given up. Eddie was never going to see you as anything more than a friend.
Maybe it was the push you needed to move on? Or at least distance yourself a tiny bit until these feelings faded.
But how long would that take? The thought of not seeing Eddie every day is awful, you don't know what to do and the worry and despair keeps you up all night.
By the morning you feel numb but full of acceptance at what you need to do.
💌
Distancing yourself from Eddie was hard. He was so ingrained in your usual routines, you were so used to seeing him practically every day that there was this ache in your chest that he wasn't around.
It didn't help that Eddie looked at you like a lost puppy and it shook your resolve every time. You missed the guys at Hellfire too, instead of your usual spot at the table you talked to Robin or Nancy, aware of eyes on you when you didn't sit down beside Eddie.
It was a catch-22, you desperately wanted these feelings to go away so things were back to normal but you missed Eddie like crazy, it felt like a piece of you was missing.
When you saw him in the corridor today, you froze and went in the other direction but you didn't miss the look on his face when you did. It was so hurt and it crushed your heart even more.
You couldn't leave things like this, you would have to say something. Eddie must be so confused and you didn't want to hurt him. But how could you explain how you felt about him, that you're the one who sent the notes?
What if finding out how you felt ruined your friendship? What if what you were doing was ending it, honestly your mind was racing a mile a minute.
Shit you haven't sent any notes in over a week, you didn't want Eddie to get his hopes up wishing it was Chrissy only to be disappointed that it was you.
Obviously you and Eddie really need to talk. Eddie must be thinking the same thing because he shows up at your house around an hour later with a determined look in his eyes.
He's angry and you can't blame him. If the situation was reversed you would feel the same. His furious gaze softens as he takes in your tears.
"Why have you been avoiding me?" His tone is gentler than you'd expect and that makes you feel worse. God you've missed him, you've really missed him.
"I'm sorry" you murmured and made your decision to tell Eddie about the notes, hoping that he wouldn't hate you. "Eddie, I-" he speaks before you can get the words out.
"I know it's you sending the notes" oh...oh shit. You're nervous so that makes you babble and grow even more flustered because you don't know how Eddie would react.
"How?" is the last question you ask and he smiles, all dimples. The smile that you love.
"When you started avoiding me after I said I hoped the notes were from Chrissy, the look on your face...I'm not stupid sweetheart, it became pretty obvious" so much for thinking that you had covered up your feelings, you should have realised eddie would figure it out.
He could be annoyingly perceptive. "I know you don't feel the same Eddie, you're panicking now so you're basically word vomiting, "I've been trying to get over these feelings so that's why I've been distant, I'm sorry"
He frowns, "Sweetheart, I don't want you to avoid me" you bite your lip, emotions rushing to the surface. Frustrated you wipe the tears that are building in your eyes.
"I don't know what else to do Eddie! You won't ever love me like I love you so I am just trying to move on, I'm trying to do that so I don't mess up our friendship" you choke on the words and try to stop the tears that are blurring your eyes. he stares at you looking absolutely stunned.
"You love me?" his voice is so small and you swear there's a hopeful edge to it but you must just be imagining it.
"Yeah, I'm the one who's been sending the notes, but you wanted it to be Chrissy and like I said you don't love me like I love you so I need to move on" Eddie groan exasperated and runs his hand through his hair in frustration. It tugs on his unruly curls and he groans, once his hand is free, he's gesturing widely.
"Well how do you know that? You've never given me the chance to love you, you just bailed when I didn't realise you were the one sending the notes" he snaps and you're seriously frustrated.
"Because you wanted it to be Chrissy! And give you a chance to love me? You either love me or you don't Eddie. I can't just sit around on the off chance that you might feel the same way when you obviously don't"
Tears roll down your cheeks and you wipe them away shakily, you're emotionally spent and you just want to have some time for yourself.
Eddie softens and his hands are on your shoulder, soothing and tender. "You're not listening, I want a chance to love you because I am in love with you"
Oh... "You do, you reply hopeful and he nods, keeping his gaze on you. What about Chrissy?" he shakes his head and his hand moves up to caress your cheek, his gaze is soft and full of adoration.
"Just a dumb crush. I'm over her now. What I feel for you...you're all I think about sweetheart, shit I think almost losing you helped give me a uh, knock on the head" you giggle and he ducks his head looking almost shy.
"Can I kiss you?" you nod eagerly and it doesn't take long for his lips to meet yours. Eddie pulls away after a few seconds and looks completely blissed out. It's exactly how you feel. Wow.
"Shit, I am an idiot, could have been doing that for a while now if I wasn't so oblivious" you stifle a smile and he's grinning too, smiling as he kisses you again.
And again. Showing you how much he loves you.
💞💌
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jadeddangel · 3 months
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hi there, could I get alastor, adam and lucifer with a reader that has pica (if you don't know what that is it is where a person can tend to eat or bite on things not edible, like paper, erasers, eca)
Yup!! I have an oral fixation so this sounds pretty similar
Reader w/ Pica! Or an oral fixation Headcannons
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Alastor🦌:
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Oh boy
When he died that wasn't much awareness about things like this
So honestly at first we was disgusted seeing you chew on something that wasn't meant to be chewed on
Alastor probably ignored it at first but got annoyed after it just kept happening
He finally asked you after a bit
Honestly he didn't understand at first but tried his best
He probably just watches to make sure you don't swallow anything dumb (like an eraser)
He literally doesn't try to help you stop the behavior or give you something to help
Let's be honest alastor probably still finds it annoying but he also finds it amusing
I mean who the fuck do you know that can eat the metal part off of a pencil and be fine? Yea that's right no one
He probably hands you things to see if you'll chew on them
"Doll your chewing on the pencil here let me get you a new one" alastor said calmly making you realize you had gnawed on it till you saw the led
Alastor took the old one and placed the fish pencil in your hand "there all fixed" alastor mused patting your head before lounging back into his seat
And he shows this behavior with all different objects it doesn't really matter what kind
At first you probably thinks it's cause he cares about you and wants you to get stuff done that he gives you new stuff
After long enough, however, you put the pieces together
You never called him out though, scared of possible repercussions
He knows you know, but he's definitely satisfied with the fact you fear him so much
Adam😇:
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Oh, you're female? He's mocking you
Oh, you're male? He's mocking you
Non-binary? You don't even exist to him
He's the kind of person that will just hand you things to see if you'll chew on it
The kind of guy that buys you edible play dough just to make sure your not making yourself sick
He buys pencils in bulk so if your sitting next to him and you start chewing on your pencil he has spares
If your his lover he jokingly teases that you can chew on his dick
He starts picking up on your chewing habits
He notices that when you get stressed it gets worse
Probably bought you a teething ring as a joke but gets really surprised if you actually use it
"Hey there's my pretty little piece of ass!- wait no put the fucking play dough down" Adam scolded walking closer and taking the container of play dough from you before reaching into his massive pocket and pulling out a container of homade edible playdough and putting it in your hand "no." Adam said again
And that's he showed that he cared about you.
Won't really yell at you if you keep chewing on things that could Hurt you but will definitely raise his voice
He once even gave you his hand to fiddle with and chew on his fingers so you didn't hurt yourself by chewing on other things
He treats you like a baby who wants to eat everything
Lucifer🐤:
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Makes things for you to chew on
Asks what your favorite animal is and makes things themed that you can chew on
He probably chews on things when he gets focused so you guys kinda keep eachother in check
Hes so sweet about it too
Like say you were chewing on an eraser you were holding onto
He would just grab your wrist so softly like you were fragile glass and pull her hand away from your mouth
"Little apple remember we shouldn't chew on things that aren't healthy or aren't going to hurt our bodies" Lucifer spoke softly so no one would overhear you two talking. Lucifer pulled your wrist towards him and prying the eraser from you carefully before placing a small pencil he made with your favorite animal on the top. The animal was a tough durable material so you could chew and it wouldn't cause any harm to it. Or to you for that matter.
He's so sweet about it, having raised Charlie and having to deal with her teething faze, and her crying if he even scolded her a little too mean.
If you don't listen the first time he asks you to stop chewing on something that may be detrimental to your health he tries his best to stay patient
He has excellent patience as long as your not hurting anyone important to him but then again you're important to him (that's why he tries so hard to stop you)
He's always watching over you and making sure you aren't getting hurt so if you chew on anything that may really hurt you he may actually scold you
He doesn't yell either he's just extremely firm in his way of speech and anything he says
If he hurts your feelings, he's immediately apologizing and trying to hug you
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13keithxpidge13 · 1 year
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OH OH ! and miles wanting to count all of hobies piercings because hobie didnt remember how many he had (or even miles didnt ask and just started counting out of nowhere and surprises hobie hehehe) .. getting up really close to his face and noticing how pink hobie got . realising that he gets pink like that when he gets close to miles ....
"Have you noticed it at all?" Gwen asks him and Miles hums as he colors in his sketchbook.
They're sitting on top of one of the ledges in the Spider-Society HQ, chilling and relaxing as they wait for another mission to be announced. For now, Miles is biding his time by sketching.
Beside him, Gwen huffs and jostles his shoulder and Miles curses as he messes up his newest drawing.
"Gwen!" He shouts.
"I'm asking you a question," She laughs as he erases the imperfect line. "Have you noticed how Hobie changes colors?"
"Yeah," He gruffs out. "Why does it matter?"
"It doesn't," She says. "But...haven't you noticed how he changes color based on how he's feeling and that he goes pink around, well, /you/? And, /only/ you?"
"What are you talking about?" Miles glances at her with a raised eyebrow. "No he doesn't."
Gwen scoffs. "Yeah. He does."
"no he doesn't."
"he does."
"no!"
"yes!"
"Gweeennn," Miles whines and slaps his hands over his face as his cheeks darken at the implications of what she's saying. "Don't give me hope."
"I'm just saying," Gwen laughs. "It's pretty obvious."
Miles grumbles and glances away from her as he crosses his arms over his chest. "...I guess..." He mumbles and Gwen leans closer, humming. Miles puffs out his cheeks. "I suppose I /have/ noticed-"
"aHA!" Gwen shakes him and Miles breaks out into giggles. "I knew it! He sooooo has a crush on you! He likes you back, Miles, it's soooo obvious!"
"It's not!" He protests. "He's so indifferent I can never tell!"
"Well," Gwen smiles. "Why don't you try to catch him in the act? Make him bend to your cuteness and charm!" She teases as she pulls at his cheeks. "C'mon, I'll even help you!"
"But, how would we even do that in the first place?" Miles laughs at her poking. "It's not like I can just go up and /ask him/, he'll probably deny it! And, oh, maybe that will make him realize that /I/ like him! Gah! I can't!"
"You won't have too," Gwen reassures. "Just make him turn pink around you, do something that'll get him flustered and confront him about why he turns pink whenever you're around! Surely that'll lead to a love confession!"
Miles huffs in embarrassment and scratches at his sore cheeks that were whining from being pulled. "Oh, alright," He sighs. "But, /you/ have to help set up a time to do this!"
Gwen grins cheekily and pulls out her watch to message Hobie.
"Already on it."
+
"Uhm, thanks for coming over, man."
"Yeah, no problem, mate. Needed an excuse to leave my dimension fo' awhile anyhow."
Miles chuckles and tries to hide his nervousness as they both enter his room through the window he left open, being careful not to make too much noise as his parents were probably cooking dinner and he didn't want to disturb them.
They sit on his bed and a few moments of awkward silence passes by before Hobie bumps their shoulders together.
"somethin' you needed from me personally? Or did ya' just wan' hang out?"
"uh," Miles coughs and laughs nervously. "Well, uhm, I guess, uh-" He tries to come up with an excuse other than /I wanted to see you turn pink/, and then it hits him. "I, uh, I wanted to draw you!" He shouts and immediately curses himself for it.
Hobie blinks at him largely before laughing. "Ah, I see," He nods. "Ya' wanted a reference for ya' sketches? Well, all ya' had to do was ask, babe."
Miles laughs awkwardly and blindly grabs for his sketchbook which is on his bed.
"Uhm, okay," He brags as he holds his pencil shakily. "Can you uhm, can you turn so I can see your face? I need, uh, I need to get your facial structure right."
Hobie grins. "Sure, honey," He says and turns according to how Miles wants him too.
A few minutes pass while miles glances up and down, looking back up and down at him to make sure he's getting his face as accurate as possible. He gets so into drawing him that, when he glances up and sees the piercings on his face, he blinks.
"Oh," Miles deadpans and Hobie tilts his head.
"Hm?"
"Oh, uhm, well," Miles flushes. "I just, I noticed that you have a lot of piercings...I noticed it before but uh...you have a lot more than I thought."
Hobie grins cheekily.
"Ya' wanna count 'em?" He asks and Miles giggles nervously.
"Uhm, I might need too..." He says. "I wanna uh, I wanna get everything as accurate as possible."
"Mhm," Hobie hums. "I'm sure. Go ahead, love."
He had multiple piercings on his ears, on his eyebrows, on his nose...
Miles gets in closer even though his heart is racing and reaches up to touch his chin. "You've got one on your bottom lip, too?" He asks, tilting his head and attempting to remain calm. "It's big. Doesn't it hurt?"
Hobie's breathing echoes throughout his ear. "Nah, babe," Hobie laughs but it seems a little off. "Hurt at first but, uh, goes away after a lil' time."
"Yeah?" Miles brushes his fingers against his bottom lip and Hobie nearly jumps out of his skin.
Instead, his body goes /bright pink/ and Miles twitches.
"Fuck-" Hobie curses and stands up from the bed. "Sorry, fuck, sorry," He brushes his hands down his vest as though he were trying to brush away the color. "Sorry, mate. I don't know why it fuckin' does that shit, gods-"
"You don't?" Miles asks innocently. "Gwen said it was because your body changes colors based off your emotions like everything else does in your universe."
"That's-" Hobie stops and turns, mumbling something about Gwen being a snitch before he sighs. "Yeah. It does. It's fuckin' weird like that."
"Sooo..." Miles stands beside him and tilts his body closer to him. "What does pink mean? Because you go pink around me a /lot/, I've noticed. What is it? I won't make fun of you, dude."
Hobie's quiet, exhaling loudly through his mouth as he turns away and his cheeks seem to darken even further.
Miles' brows furrow. Come on. He has to /know/-
Hobie leans his head back and sighs once more.
"It's 'cause..." He swallows and scratches the back of his neck. "It's 'cause...I like ya', mate. Not in the bullshit platonic way either. Like, in the I kinda wanna kiss ya' and take ya' out to dates and hold ya' hand and shit."
Miles feels the breath punched out of him. "You-" He can't stop the wide smile that etches across his face. "Really?"
Hobie runs a hand down his face and mumbles; "Well, yeah..."
Miles almost jumps and down with joy until Hobie continues;
"I'm sorry, mate," He says. "I know it's prolly weird, ain't it? I don't wanna make ya' uncomfortable, love. If ya' want me gone, I'll leave, y'know? Just say the word, mate, and I'll be gone-"
"No!" Miles grabs onto him instinctively and Hobie jumps at it. "Don't go! You misunderstood me!"
"Wha-what?" Hobie stutters. "What're you talkin' 'bout?"
"You-I-" Miles felt his cheeks darken. He sputters for a moment and nearly lets go of Hobie's hand before the elder teen grasps at his fingers again so he couldn't get very far. Miles licks his lips and feels impossibly flustered.
"Miles?" Hobie leans forward, obviously concerned and curious. "What did you mean?"
"I just-" Miles turns his head away and Hobie shakes his head. "It's nothing-"
"nuh, uh, sweetheart," Hobie's smiling now. He's grinning from ear to ear and gently turns Miles to face him again and the younger teen is impossibly red. "Somethin' ya' wanna tell me? Like how I told you?"
Miles licks his lips and their eyes meet. Suddenly, a surge of confidence overtakes him and Miles grins.
"You wanna know what I meant?" He stands on his tip toes. "I'll show you."
He locks lips with Hobie and the punk grunts with it.
Miles grabs a hold of the back of his neck so he can force the elder teen to dip forward so Miles can get a better grip on him and he hums as Hobie licks at his lips
Hands grab at his waist and Miles squeals when he realizes how /big/ Hobie's hands are, how perfect they fit around him and his small hips. It makes shivers run up his spine like electricity and Hobie chuckles against his tongue as their muscles dances together.
Then, their lips part and a string of slick saliva is all that connects them.
Miles pants for air and knows his cheeks are flushed impossibly dark. Hobie leans forward again and kisses both cheeks, peppering his skin with soft slick kisses that have his breath hitching.
"Finally," Hobie murmurs. "Yer so fuckin' cute, love. So cute to kiss me like that."
Miles pouts. "It wasn't meant to be /cute/, man! It was supposed to be hot! I wasn't cute, I was /hot/," He whines and Hobie kisses his nose with a chuckle.
"Yes, yes, of course," He coos and Miles scoffs.
"Agree with me!"
"I am!"
"You're not!"
Hobie merely laughs and kisses him again, successfully silencing him.
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schrodinger-swriter · 3 months
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Can I request Lucifer x fem reader where they tell Charlie she's going to be a big sister?
Lucifer x AFAB!Reader telling Charlie she's going to be a big sister
This one is going to be interesting, and while I do want to put some time aside to give the Lucifer x Reader part room to shine, some of this post will focus on Charlie. Heads up it's not going to be... all fluff..
This takes place between Lucifer and Charlie reconciling, and the season finale!
I hope you enjoy! C:
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When you had found out you were expecting you and Lucifer were... feeling all kinds of emotions! You were excited to bring this new life into the world- well into Hell.. but you were also a little nervous. You were bringing them into Hell during perhaps one of it's most turbulent times given the things Charlie is planning on doing with the extermination coming half a year sooner... it's going to get hectic, but you both believe you can give this child what they need to thrive. You try to reassure Lucifer that he's going to be a good dad, because he already is one.. Que him realizing he needs to his daughter, who he had just reconnected with.
Speaking of... Charlie.. She was happy to have her dad back in her life, but just because he's back it doesn't suddenly erase all of the hurt and insecurity she's been feeling about the relationship, feelings that have simmered for... how long exactly? A while, most definitely.
She outwardly acts excited, but later when it takes time to sink it does... hurt a little. Is it selfish? It's hard to say, her relationship with her father was fractured and it's still healing and just like that they're having a new kid. She tries not to think about it too negatively, but I do genuinely think she would come around to the idea as time passes. If anything it was just a moment of.. jealousy? towards an unborn child who gets to have Lucifer after his do-over. Daddy issues are whack and can make one think whack, but that doesn't exactly mean the other person is bad or evil for being hurt.
Charlie tries to make the hotel as welcoming as possible, likely even adding a baby safe area in the hotel after it's been rebuilt so the child has a safe place to play in away from everything else going on, although that won't happen for a few more months...
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the-white-void · 2 months
Text
"You have heard the Story."
Synopsis: A Play that was acted over and over again has finally reached a stir in script, changing the events that were supposed to happen. Will this Play finally lead to a happy ending? Or lead the play to the same script as before?
Warning: This contains mentions of violence, killings, torture, and repetitive deaths which may be uncomfortable to some readers.
One || two || three || four || five...?
Taglist: @kthehoeforfictionalmen @pix-stuff @kthehoeforfictionalmen @time-shardz @scarletttcroww @mysteriaqueen @atsukawolfcat @junkoslette @mefOrgOr @altheqo @obliviousariies2007 @mmeatt @quacking-simp @amnervous
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Dreams are the manifestation of oneself. Made from desire,experience, trauma, and hate. Many things can warp the mind to elude the creature into a dream; one too familiar to let go, or the pain to make them reform. Dreams are a curious thing. It's been a long time since you dreamt. A feeling all too distant since then. 'What did dreams feel like? How do dreams make one feel?" Questions surged through your thoughts while sitting inside a cold and desolate cell.
"Why are these questions coming to me now?" You wondered as you gazed up at the ceiling, eyes wandering at every crack and fragment dangling from the stone before a loud clang echoed cutting your thought.
The sound was made when a guard thrust his sword at the bars. "Quiet fraud!!! This world doesn't need your corrupt thoughts out loud!" The guard sneered as he pulled his blade. back to its sheath.
Brushing off the guard's words, you stepped closer to the bars with a sly grin while leaning closer. "Hey, do you know how dreaming feels? It's been a while since I've had one." Yet the innocent act was returned with a clang banging into the bars.
"I said quiet fraud!!! You better shut your mouth if you know what's good for you." The guard's voice came aloud, echoing through the dungeon halls. Your face remained unchanged and unfazed by his threat, simply smiling, but yet the tone of your grin became unsettling, leaving a cold sweat down the once threatening guard.
"You know... I prefer my questions to have answers." Your tone of voice was sickly sweet, enough to come off as poison. Your eyes drew closer to the guard, your gaze piercing through his haughty façade. "Now tell me. What is it like to dream?". The guard quickly turned his back away to face you, still, he could feel his mind weighing over him as he felt his body slowly fading from his control, with your question burdening his whole being.
"What is it like to dream?"
Luck graced the guarding knight as a small figure appeared to interfere. "What's wrong? Are you alright?" A young and squeaky voice came as the figure came closer revealing itself as the Dendro Archon, along with another person wearing an expansive hat.
"Wait, Buer" the short man with a big hat came off surprised when the Dendro Archon suddenly dashed off to help the guard. Your smile faded as you saw the Archon come closer before returning, but with a different reason for grinning, then releasing the guard from his agony as he fell to his knees before hitting the ground.
While Kusanali focused her attention on the guard as Wanderer had his eyes on you, wary of your intentions as you had the guts to impersonate a being of another plane. "Why are you trying to act like a god? That won't get you anything." He sneered while keeping his distance. A low chuckle escaped your lips as you looked at him. "That's very rich coming from someone who tried to become a god." You teased as you lay your bum on the floor with your legs crossed, giggling at your little joke.
Your short statement made the Wanderer's blood run cold, if he had any. Ever since her erased himself from Irminsul, no one else other than the traveller, Paimon, and Bier could have known, yet, some imposter knew that. "How did you..." The Dendro Archon overhead you and Hat Guy's little exchange and came over with a tinge of fear behind her face brimming with courage. "How did you know all that? Ever since he was removed from Irminsul, no one should have known about that."
Your smile was unchanging as you looked up to her and giggled. "Tehehe... Maybe you could try guessing-" your voice leaving a little teasing tone as your eyes remain on the young Archon.
The Dendro Archon remains unmoving, her eyes still as untainted waters of a clear spring, the clarity deceivingly clear. "Because you've seen it before, again and again, countless times, in every loop you've experienced..." She voiced out with a tinge of pity laced in her stern facade.
Your smile was drowned out by the Lord's words, while also leaving her company confused. Standing up from your laxed form, slightly towering over the young Archon while your eyes were dead set on hers, your teasing aura vanished into a tense and trembling form. "You... remember...?" Your voice quivered as well as your eyes. Your once calm facade crumbled showing the same prey that was hunted countless times.
Walking back into the shadows that filled the cell you were locked in, turning away as thoughts and words escaped your lips in mumbles, mumbles no one else in the dungeon could understand. Facing the wall you clenched your fingers on the surface, grabbing onto what little sanity is left before madness drove your mind. "Lieslieslieslieslieslies... Even... evenifyouremember... You paused your rapid mumbling as you clenched your hands harder on the wall, breaking your nails before your blood oozed out.
Your silence filled the dungeon with a haunting flavour, like the clam before the storm, leaving the Dendro Archon and her companion uneasy. "Kusanali, we should leave this nutjob. We're not gonna get anything from them." Wanderer tries to tell his concerns, but Nahida was laser focused on getting more from you.
The silence was deafening before it was interrupted but the sound of a droplet hitting the floor, then another, and another. Your hands rested on your sides, before turning your head to the two outside your cell.
Your sudden change in form left the two alarmed as Wanderer gets in front to protect the Archon.
You were still as still a statue; in an instant, you leapt onto thern but you were stopped by the bars holding you in. Your eyes showed an insane victim conscience about freedom or a trap. "Remembering that means NOTHING!!! LIARS! You're just here to ask me SHIT aren't ya!!!" Your furious yells echoed through the hollow halls while. While your hands gripped harder on the bars, your blood continued to flow, blood of glimmering gold against the small ember of light flickering from a lamp.
"You're... The Overseer...?"
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gotham-daydreams · 9 months
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Honestly (I know it’s typical yandere behavior) but instead of kidnapping, what if the batfam tries manipulating y/n into coming back to the manor? A lot of people forget that Bruce can be manipulative when he wants to be. Like each of them show up at Y/n’s usual hangouts, like they try to apologize but Y/n walks away and/or tells them off, “One apology isn’t going to erase the fact that you all neglected me!”
But each of them just pops in random places that Y/n happens to be to try to wear them down.
I'd say that jumping straight to some sort of kidnapping has become more common and typical of yanderes, honestly, which is part of the reason I'm putting it off- and also because of what you pointed out!
Some of the Batfam can be really manipulative and smart with their moves, and even more careful about what they say and how they say it to swing things in their favor. Bruce is also a very good example of this, as you've said! Though I'd also go as far as to say that Alfred can be as well but in a different way when compared to Bruce- and I feel like I've kind of shown that already.
Alfred from what I've shown does take a more hands off approach for the most part. Giving just enough of a nudge to get someone started (like Bruce), and or also conveniently place certain things that may or may not spark something, like what he does with Bruce, Jason, and Cass. Though he does also give a little more of a nudge at times as well, like what he does with Dick amd handing him the rest of the flyers for events that the reader wanted the Batfam to go too. And, well, we all see how that turned out.
As for Bruce, he'll simply insert himself into the reader's life as you've stated, and what can further his own manipulation is the family itself. Not to mention he has money, and even if it doesn't work on the reader, who's to say Bruce can't attach and pull a few strings on the people around them? I won't say much, but Bruce is definitely the type to where he controls the situation and environment itself, while Alfred does careful placements instead. Which both can be effective if they know their target well, and even if in this situation one does know the reader and their life better than the other, nothing says that little detail can't change.
What helps with how Bruce tends to be manipulative is that the reader has performances. Rather if their public of private, it doesn't matter because, again, Bruce has money. Lots of it. He could get in without even having to breathe.
Even if apologies don't cut it, there are always other ways to control certain things, and I keep pointing out how much money Bruce has- and honestly just a good portion of the Batfam because that could easily spell the end of it.
They could buy out the reader's apartment building. If they don't want to ruin the reader's career, they very well could easily ruin the lives of the people who dare to associate with them. They could cancel every performance or sell out each and every one just so that they could be the only ones that get to watch the reader perform.
Even without all of that! They could attend each and every performance or event that they know for a fact that the reader is going to, and basically force them into an interaction right then and there. They could even weaponize both their own popularity AND the reader's just to trap them, to overwhelm them, to keep them put so they can actually have a conversation- to keep them close.
There is lots that they could do, and even if the reader were to even gets ideas? What are they doing to do? What can they do? Run away? Leave before they're stripped of anything else or shown how vulnerable they really are without their family? Before they're further deluded into believing that one only people who'll ever see them, that'll ever hear them are the very people who start to show them how invisible they really were in the first place?
Best case scenario is that they manage to get away, but is that even possible? Who knows. Especially with someone as smart as Bruce Wayne on your ass.
----
Even if an arguably 'calmer' route is taken, with the Bruce and the rest of the Batfam trying to lure in the reader willing but without driving to the point or near insanity or collapse. I still feel like in a way they'd feel... infectious?
Like, as you mentioned- they'd appear around where the reader is a LOT, and I'd imagine it could get to a point where it feels like every waking moment, at least one of them is around. They'd make small talk, not being too pushy and if anything being careful, as if almost trying to be considerate of the reader's feelings- and that's what makes it so frustrating.
They're almost being reasonable- at least Bruce is with his endless amounts of patience, almost holding up a calm and collected attitude. The reader knows where he gets it from, seeing as it heavily reminds them of Alfred, but even if they appreciated it from Alfred in the past, with Bruce maybe they just can't help but hate it a little. It makes it so hard to hate Bruce when he's being cooperative and listening to the reader's wishes, giving them space and time when they ask for it (even if it's by telling him off), and listening to their woes.
He's actually being present now, and it's dreadful.
Ah! But excuse my ramblings! I love talking about these kinds of things if you couldn't tell, and I'd rather stop now before I spoil any potential ideas I might use in the future!
Regardless, no matter the approach taken, they are very determined to bring the reader home! Though I feel as if why a particular detail I'm going to include in a semi-later part doesn't last as long as it does is because the Batfam feels the need to fix things right now. They don't want to wait- already feeling as if they've wasted enough time without the reader, and we'll see if that gets across or not when that comes around :]
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blueberryarchive · 10 months
Text
—the sketch and the smaller eye; kth
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Lonely man Kim Taehyung leads a fairly stable routine in his life away from civilization affected by an infection without a cure. Stability ends the day you arrive, no one knows how you got there, but one thing is for sure: Taehyung won't let you go.
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🌿pairing; Artist!Taehyung x Fem!Reader
🌿word count; 8.1k
🌿tw; widower!tae, post-apocalitic scenario, mentions of disease, weight loss and death, very brief mention of arms, age gap (21 & 30-ish), smut (manhandling, whiNY Taehyung, edging, spanking, oral (f. receiving), creampie, dirty talk), gruesome details of the virus.
🌿themes; strangers to lovers, slow burning, cottage-core.
🌿inspired by; ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ ⁱⁿ ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ ᵖˡˢ ᵇᵉ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The walk all the way home was always one of his favorite things to do when it was hunting day, the way the wind danced between the dying leaves and made music inside the hollow trees, the sun setting with the most beautiful tones of pink. It always reminded him of the times he spent just drawing all alone until you came into his land.
The day was August 8th, the heat was overbearing and like all of the other days around the same time, probably four or five (he wouldn't know because his only clock died a year ago), Taehyung sat down in the shadow of an old oak tree that has been his only friend, besides his dog, since he came to this lonely and God-forgotten place, were he was blessed and cursed with solitude and the cruel nature.
He had a small tin box with all of his drawing supplies, broken pencils, a piece of eraser gum the size of a nail, and a reddish tint drying up in a baby food crystal jar. Every day he told himself that he was making more yellow with the few sunflowers in his backyard, but today of all days he actually stood up to look for the petals.
The flowers were right outside the kitchen window, the sun was going down, and they were hunched over, withered, and full of little flying butterflies. His calloused hands took a pair of petals, the most vibrant and alive.
The sudden sound of cracking leaves and the barking of his dog disturbed him.
Taehyung perfectly remembers the moment he saw your frightened eyes, the color of the sunset over your weak body clinging to a log, an improvised cane. Torn clothes, dry mouth like a corpse, wet hair for some reason. Did you cross the river?
The first reaction of both was primal, like two animals that didn't plan to meet. Taehyung only turned on the fireplace at night, only for a couple of hours, so as not to attract attention. 
So what were you doing there? Were you lost? Impossible, he was too far from civilization. Were you infected? The wolves would've eaten you by now. Either way, he didn't like the idea of someone new.
The petals sweated their amber ink on Taehyung's hand, you tried to maintain your position, your gaze... almost afraid to blink. The man was not afraid to take action, hand already inside his overall pocket. Without much, his hand raised a pistol, sleek and silver. He was pointing straight at your face, your hair in a ponytail revealing your exposed forehead, like an invitation to explode it with a bullet.
"No, please." You muttered. So soft and yet, Taehyung got scared hearing someone else's voice. It wasn't a growl, nor the crash of stones from the river, nor the rain, nor the cawing of crows, nor his own grunts when chopping wood, nor the barking from his old dog. "I'll go." You begged again, letting go of the log. Taehyung tensed, even more, hearing you again.
So soft and sad. So delicate when the world around was burning.
"Are you coming with someone else?" he growled, getting closer and looking around. The forest seemed quiet, and his dog would have warned him.
"No, just me."
"If you lie it'll be worse for you."
"I know." You lowered your head to avoid the black eye of the gun.
"Are you sick?" the question was simple. Taehyung was trying to look for signs of infection. He hadn't felt this fear since the last time he lost his wife to that fucking disease.
You denied it, slowly.
"Show me," he said with a lowered tone, calm eyes as you undressed as quickly as possible. No marks. Elbows, hands, neck, eyes. All clean. With a sigh from both, the barking stopped.
"Walk to the tree over there, and if you try to do anything funny I'm going to put every fucking bullet in your head," he said giving a simple condition. He started moving with you in front.
Without saying anything else, you both walked slowly to the trunk. The afternoon was already turning blue, cicadas were playing a tense melody. Your bare back revealed your vertebrae, hard balls under your skin looking as if it was going to break. You hugged yourself, trying to keep the heat of your body, perhaps even your modesty.
With a whistle, Frank appeared: an old dog with red eyes and floppy ears. Seeing the naked stranger, he growled loudly. Your hands began to tremble, the weapon and the animal made a cry of pain come out of you, a plea with tears falling down your ashy cheeks. But you didn't see a drop of mercy in Taehyung's eyes, you knew that having this kind of loneliness was not achieved without having to kill several from time to time.
The eyes of the man in front of you were unbending and cold, lips pressed into a thin line, thick hands gripping Frank's chain and his gun. Stains of watercolors and charcoal on his fingers.
"C'mon, buddy," he whispered and the dog came closer little by little to sniff your body. "Bend down." You obeyed.
The animal took its time sticking its wet nose into your hair and skin until it snorted as it sat down. Taehyung lowered the gun.
That was the beginning of your recovery, long days lying between rough, thick sheets. Yellowed pillows that smelled of Taehyung's hair, hand-rolled cigarettes on the nightstand. Every morning he would get up before the sun came up and carry his hunting artifacts over his shoulder. Frank stayed with you while you tried to kill time in the cabin.
You learned how to garden and cook, roll the cigars, and dry the tobacco in the sun. The books were plenty, but reading was an activity you only did if Taehyung was the one reading to you, he did it every night. Even when the fever was so high you couldn't keep up with the story.
When you were at your worst, he held your head to put you in one of his sweaters, and even left the crackling fire all night to keep you warm in the cold.
Every night he started, with a rough and tired voice, around 8 o'clock, to read you a chapter from a book of poems or letters; or the list of lost people in the old newspaper.
"I do it to keep me sane," he said. "I went a long period without saying a word, and I started to forget how to say them, my tongue used to get jammed." He explained to you while drawing an empty cup of tea next to you.
You could only tell him a couple of questions each night, he used to get tired very easily. The first two weeks you couldn't even pronounce two words before he started to lose his patience.
"You don't have to know anything about me," his eyebrows locked in a frown. "When you get better, you can go and it will be like we never met."
But now it has been three months, you think. You recovered pretty well, and you can do the chores while he's out. You try your best every day so he notices that you won't be a bother if he lets you stay.
He doesn't ask questions about how you came to be on this side of the river, and you thank him for that. The memories blurred in your mind, like a sketch that's been erased again and again. 
Taehyung get's home at sunset, you are outside breaking some newspapers into pieces. The notebooks he used to draw in were already full, so you decided to make him a new one. 
You are wearing a dress he found in an abandoned house, it was a teen size but he loves it. He doesn't know your age yet, but he knows you're probably in your early twenties. He loves when the sun is scorching hot and your only choice is to let your thighs and shoulders out while you cook and clean. The hem flows with the wind letting him see your bare ass while you put the paper to dry.
You two haven't had sex, you never gave him signs, maybe because he looked a little bit older. He never felt like he had to hide an inexistent lust, until a few weeks ago. 
Two, to be exact. 
You were in the nearest river. A flimsy white t-shirt, wine-drunk, and talking so much. You were so irksome with your questions. The cold water sticking the fabric to your body like marble while you asked about Taehyung's boring routine. Your babble was such, you started asking about him jerking off and how sex works in solitude.
The way you laughed made him blush with anger. Sketches he was trying to make from the water lilies turned into ones from your eyes. 
That day he had to take a cold shower in the river after leaving you by the fire in the house. His face was boiling red, tired of your babbling and hard as a log.
The idea of you making him horny made him mad for some reason; it made him feel like a high school boy, but it was natural. He had years without seeing a woman. And you were pretty. So pretty for no fucking reason.
He knew that being in his early thirties probably made him less attractive to you, he was a grumpy man, almost a caveman how he reacted to your ways. That's why he didn't try, not even think about it... not always.
Now you have him going to abandoned houses on the other side of the river, looking for things for you: like a small bottle of perfume, a broken mirror, and old photos of people who are probably dead by now. A way to show he cared without using words. 
When he got to the rock path, the crackle made you turn around, you were smiling like always, and his heart felt warm.
"I told you to do that earlier. The paper won't dry today," He grunted, acting more tired than he was so you leave everything behind and get near him. You get a cigar from a basket near you and light it for him. You pass it to him after taking a puff.
"But you can draw on one piece of paper."
"That's not how it works."
"It'll have to work."
Taehyung pressed his lips together, he knew you enjoyed arguing with him, but more than those few words would not come out of him. You rolled you eyes going back to hang the wet paper.
"I'm making dinner tonight," he muttered like ten minutes later and then silence again. Another cigar, the old Frank by his side while he watched the sunset disappear.
The reading hours were around six to seven, right after dinner. It was the same routine when you first stayed, and it is the same now: After dinner, he gets comfortable in bed, takes a cigarette from the nightstand, and with the gas lamp he lights the tip. Book in hand. 
The words he didn't say all day would overflow as he read chapter by chapter. In an appropriate tone, pauses at the commas, giving life to each character. A treat for the ears.
After looking for a book on the first floor, he entered the room and stood up, his eyes went to the corner where there was a broken mirror, and in its reflection, you were, combing your hair in a ponytail, so poorly done that it was better to leave it loose. But the strands that were floating in the air, in front of your eyes, made Taehyung's fingers tingle, wanting to take every strand and pull it towards him.
There was a heaviness in the air that early autumn night. The silence was thick, and the yellowish lamplight cast heavier shadows on every piece of furniture. Abrupt and defined as in a baroque painting.
The curve in which his eyes concentrated more were the ones that defined your waist and your stomach, how it bulged slightly like a hill stamped with the flowers of your skimpy dress.
"Turn around," you muttered, like you didn't care if he did it or not, as you started to remove your dress; snapping Taehyung out of the sketches he was drawing in his head. He went to open the window to let some of the heat out of the room, letting the smoke creep through the curtains.
"I think I know what I'm going to read to you today," he cleared his throat, looking down at his bare feet pacing anxiously across the room. The shadow of your silhouette moving on the floor, the bone-white nightgown falling on your curves, exposing one of Taehyung's weaknesses: the connection of your neck and your shoulders, subtle but lethal.
He wanted to press his face between and close his eyes, inhaling the scent of your skin. Rich and peachy, like when the trees have so much fruit that they start to ripen on the same tree.
"You haven't finished showing me the stamp book yet." You dropped on the bed.
"I'm already bored of it."
"Odd." you noticed, watching him bend down and open a suitcase under the bed. "And those?" As you approached you saw a collection of books.
They were small, wrinkled, and minimalist in cover. Some were yellowed papers seized by the red wax on the spine.
Taehyung snorted at the question and looked up, daring you to keep acting innocent. He knew that you knew every corner of the house.
"I want you to say it," you smiled.
"Force me."
"I want you to say that Taehyung, the hard-faced man, has a collection of erotic books under his bed."
"You already said it. I don't have the need."
"Why do you have it under the bed?"
"What are you talking about?" Taehyung moved the books until he found a small book in Spanish. The pink cover with a painting of a mischievous Renaissance woman smiling.
"Kept under the bed, in a suitcase. Like a secret."
"I'm not ashamed of reading erotica if that's what you assume." he closed the suitcase and dropped his body next to you. His head near your legs, yours lying on the opposite side.
"And why do you have it like they're illegal." you held the cigarette he offered you.
"Habits of a human who lived in a society, I suppose."
You inhale the cigarette while he searched for the short between his long fingers, the book opened softly. His thumb pressed down the middle of the pages.
The glass of wine had you sparkling, you still hadn't gotten used to the alcohol. You had not drunk in so long that you did not remember its effects. There was something on the tip of your tongue, a confession that couldn't wait, an itch that needed to be scratched.
Before you could speak, Taehyung let out a soft "Ah" as he found the story for the night.
"A man who came about five years ago translated this story by Anaïs Nin for me. When he found out that I painted, he told me that he had a story for me."
"What's it called?" Without realizing it, your hand began to caress Taehyung's leg.
"La Maja," he pronounced. "Like Goya's painting"
Your head fell back on the stacked pillows, Taehyung's lips moved as he read a homemade translation of the story.
"He pulled back the sheets that covered her and slowly lifted the silk nightgown. He was able to lift it over her breasts without her giving the slightest sign of awakening. When it was uncovered all over the woman's body, he contemplated it for as long as he wanted. Her arms were detached from her body; her breasts stretched out before his eyes like an offering. He was aroused by his desire but he did not dare to touch her. Instead, he brought paper and pencils, sat by her bedside, and took notes. As he worked, he had the sensation of caressing each of the perfect lines of the woman's body."
Taehyung's eyes would lift to yours after reading the paragraph, turning back to the page with embarrassment flushing his cheeks. The human habit of blushing when you want things so badly, he thought.
The smoke from the dying cigar between your fingers snaked through your hair and the softness of your chin. Taehyung was never more jealous of something so ephemeral.
He couldn't find where he had stayed and the silence became so loud that you could only do what was right.
"I followed you today."
"What?" Taehyung didn't understand, you had spoken so low that he almost didn't notice it.
"To the woods, when you left this morning."
When he closed the book, you knew that what little sweetness Kim showed you turned sour. 
"I have told you that you must stay here, with Frank. Safe." You both got up at the same time, you followed Taehyung looking for his gaze which he averted.
"I'm not asking you to keep me safe, Kim" you replied.
There was a pause as he pricked at his bottom lip. Was that in his pupils the sign of an offense? Taehyung clucked at you, turning around.
"Kim," you tried to fix it by brushing against his shoulder. "It's not that I'm a helpless deer, I know how to protect myself." You laughed to lighten the mood. Bad idea.
A question, like a small forgotten flame, reappeared in Taehyung's brain. Out of courtesy when you got sick in the first few weeks, he didn't ask where you came from, why you were alone, or how you came to cross the wide river that divided a civilization almost thousands of kilometers to the left. When politeness turned to infatuation, the question was no longer so important. He felt that he could trust you and that he had a new purpose besides survival: to keep you safe.
Fallacies.
"How did you come to find me?"
"What?" the smile faded from your face.
"I'm not going to repeat myself."
Your eyes moved erratically in his gesture, a frown. Just like when you came in drenched that August. No trust.
"Don't know."
He just snorted denying, he didn't believe you, and that irritated you.
"Sure, of course."
"Do you think I'm lying to you?"
"I don't believe it, I know." His body moved from side to side, arranging books and picking things up off the ground.
Your flushed face and clenched fists. Boiling alcohol in your veins.
"Well, you can go to hell with your lonely man farce."
"OK." Taehyung sighed daring you to continue insulting him.
"You do know that things aren't as horrible as at the start of the pandemic anymore, right?"
"Oh yeah?" His eyes widened in theatrical surprise.
"The infected are controlled and-," Seeing how he continued to feign interest, you pushed him aside and grabbed your dress from the floor, beginning to change. Tears accumulated without permission in your eyes. "Whatever," you mumbled.
"Then you do know something about your past."
"Fuck you, Kim."
"No, because you lied to me and now you say things like how you know how to defend yourself in a forest full of wild wolves and that you traveled several kilometers by water and land to get here. And you want me not to ask questions about it." He moved closer to you so close that he could see the torment in your eyes.
"Exactly." You muttered putting on your garden boots.
"That request is absurd and you know it." his laugh was careless. He was drunk too.
"I know."
You both stared at each other, your hair was no longer tied up and its shadow hid both of your features under its shadow. Your lips parted at the sight of his.
"I don't remember how I got to this place," you whispered, a tear fell to your cheek and you cursed how sensitive alcohol made you. You saw how Taehyung's face softened in the presence of your pain. "I swear I would have told you if I knew."
Taehyung swallowed hard and looked out the window. He hated seeing others cry, he hated when his wife did it, and he hates seeing it now in your lost gaze. There was something in the way you were, in the quality of your emotions and your hope in everything that reminded him so much of her. His wife died at the same age you were.
Taehyung and her were both idiots and thought that living far away was all it took to escape the infection.
It was stupid of him to let her go hunting alone that day, he shouldn't have let a simple fever keep him in bed when she was out there.
He spent years waiting for her to come back. Waiting for some afternoon that he will hear her quick steps coming down the gravel road. Much later, he found a piece of her shirt floating on the bank of a river.
Taehyung closed his eyes and nodded. It was dangerous to let you stay, he still didn't fully trust you. But what was the use of being alone so much when he only waited for the next day and the day after until one day he could die naturally?
Your body tensed as his hand rose to sink into your hair and kiss your forehead. So delicate, without causing any noise.
"Sleep well," he whispered leaving the book on the table. His chest hurt with the immense amount of feelings you make him feel in one day.
It's overbearing and he loved it. But his poor soul needed time.
For the first time in all that time together, he decided to sleep on the first floor.
You didn't know what to say, you were already ready for him to just ask you to leave. So you were thankful he actually just…left.
When the door creaked shut, you let loneliness engulf you. You cried, glued to the pillow like a child. Of relief, of uncertainty, for that kiss.
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The days are long when there is nothing to say. When you don't look at him, when you ignore him with your unsubtle ways: you leave your clothes poorly folded, you don't finish the dishes he makes for you, your cigarettes are badly rolled, and you punish him by wearing those shirts that reveal your cleavage.
If you knew what you did to him, would you take advantage of him? Would he hate it?
Taehyung can feel your eyes on his back as he tries to light the fireplace at night, the cold is cruel in the mountains, even crueler than the tension in the small living room. You find yourself sitting watching the flame grow and grow, Taehyung trying to appear as calm as possible as if he didn't have the gears of his brain fed up trying to figure out how to talk to you.
Apart from a 'what do you want for dinner?', a 'yes' or a 'no'.
He felt he talked more with poor Frank, who slept about eighteen hours a day.
He cleared his throat at the smoke and held up his hand for more newspaper. You gave it instantly. And suddenly, a miracle: for the first time in weeks, your voice.
"Tomorrow is my birthday," you said embarrassedly, arms crossed.
With a tight-lipped smile on Kim's mouth, he nodded and looked into your tired eyes.
Your voice was still just as sweet and calm, you wanted to try to sound weary. But he noticed every afternoon when he came home from hunting, the way you moved through the little orchard and sang while you bathed Frank. Your laughter was his antidote, it healed his tiredness and the ache of his soul.
"We should celebrate it." He proposed, but you instantly denied it.
"I want you to take me."
"What do you mean?" he blushed, looking deep into your eyes.
"Take me somewhere."
Taehyung dropped the newspaper on the fire. He sighed softly, (not in relief, but disappointed) and sat in the old chair in the corner, legs apart as he rolled a cigarette.
"Where do you want to go?"
"To the house on top." you pointed east.
"How do you know there's a house on top?"
"Because I saw it in your drawings." your pupils let you see its shine for the first time in weeks. The cold made you look so beautiful. The little contact he had with you, he missed it so much.
Your cheeks took on color with the coming of winter, your lips like two slices of ripe fruit, red and full of juice. "And I found your binoculars in the warehouse."
"Mm," he couldn't even get mad at you and your insatiable curiosity. He was glad to hear you. Besides, who was he to deny you going up to that abandoned mansion, even when fear consumed him that they would attack you?
"Sure, we'll go." you let the corner of your lips rise, Taehyung feigned seriousness. "But it can't be tomorrow. We need at least two days of walking to get there, and we have to prepare."
You licked your lips and got up, letting the cloth that wrapped you from head to toe fall to your shoulders. You raised your arms, and Taehyung frowned, not understanding the gesture.
"Come here, it's almost twelve, and I'm going to be twenty-one."
Although they both knew that no clock gave them a certain time, Kim didn't care and you less. Leaving the cigarette next to him, he stood up and awkwardly let his strong arms swallow you, your head on his chest.
The hug was a thank you from you, but with just a few more seconds, you realized that Taehyung didn't want to let go. You opened your eyes, he could feel your confusion.
"Just-" he stammered, tensing his arms a little more to bring you closer to the warmth of his body. Silence.
Rich and peachy.
"What?"
"No, nevermind."
"Kim." you wanted to look at his eyes but didn't let you.
"I haven't hugged anyone in years." he murmured, a sigh of relief.
The confession made your chest sink. The breathing of the man in your arms was soft and ragged. As if he was nervous.
"Can you play with my hair?" he hummed, timid and needy, warming your shoulder with his breath; chills covering your skin.
You let your fingers explore his fluffy hair, the little ripples covering your palm and fingertips. You heard another sigh from him and felt how his arms slid to hug the sides of your waist.
"Feels good?" you dared to ask, breathing the musk on his jacket. He just nodded longingly, closed eyes and brows knitted; the crackle of the fire in the fireplace melting his heart.
Your throat was dry, and your lips parted, God knows you wanted to enjoy that hug, how Taehyung bent his body slightly to hide his head in your neck. Perhaps it was the lack of contact or the fire in the fireplace, but your body bubbled over a slow fire with each exhale that collided with your neck.
"Tae-" you swallowed and grabbed his shoulders so he could see you.
The drunkenness in the eyes of the man in front of you was so short but so sweet. Discovering his attitude, he pricked the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat.
"Sorry, don't worry about the trip. We can start packing tomorrow."
"I think I remember some of what happened to me."
"Oh." His eyes widened, gesturing as he tried to ask you to explain. You loved the gestures that came out of Taehyung when he didn't know the protocol of conversations. It wasn't 'thank you', but a tightening of the lips into a brief smile; no 'Don't move' when he painted but a little grunt and a deny.
You both took a seat on the furniture and got as close as possible, there was no one around, but this was how both of you got used to talking to each other. Whispers, watching each other's lips and laughter, when it was intended, with the hand on the mouth.
"I remember a boat, I remember several women and two men," you murmured, your eyes tilted into the fire. "A group came on another boat and threw us on the shore, they beat the men so much that they died and left the women to suffer."
Kim bit the inside of his cheek, he knew the day you would remember your past would be difficult. The beginning of the lethal virus was so surreal for him.
"I don't remember their faces much, just their hair. I remember…one feverish night, the women covered me with a blue coat that they had taken from one of the men." your hand trembled, and Taehyung took it without hesitating. "When I woke up, they were all in stage two."
Stage two of the virus was when their bodies began to slow down, sleep being the main activity, even at times when they needed to urinate. Your body didn't feel like getting up.
Taehyung remembers how one of his college classmates slept fully for two days, he opened his eyes when called but closed them instantly.
"When I saw them I thought the same thing was going to happen to me, apparently they killed an infected animal and ate it among themselves without giving me a piece. I don't blame them. I also thought the fever was going to kill me that night," you shrugged. "When I woke up I found trash, fruit, and headless bugs on the floor. The virus searched for everything it could to feed before going into coma…, and then, um-"
Your gaze drifted away, as if you saw the women sprawled on their backs with their mouths open and sunken eyes on the cabin rug.
"Their bodies started to swell, their chests and stomachs and throats. The eggs-" you denied and Taehyung felt chills. "They began to grow and incubate, I cried for hours and hours in silence, sitting on a log." your voice quivered. "I crossed the river at low tide, and stayed on the rocks to wait."
"You were sent to explore the area. You were the same as I was years ago." Taehyung bit his lip, squeezing your hand.
"I don't understand."
"I thought they didn't send scouts to this area anymore. The infection is so old I thought they wouldn't need any more information."
"What do you mean when you say you were the same?" You frowned and stared at him.
"I was a soldier, my family needed money, and the doctors found a way to make us think they could save my dad from the virus." the memories made his tense neck move involuntarily. "They sent me to this side to find information about the virus, the source."
"You and how many others?"
Taehyung shook his head with a sad smile. Maybe he was even making up the story of his father getting sick, who knows at this point?
"I still don't remember. I just know that I kept walking and walking wit this girl by my side,until we found this hill, and even she disappeared."
They both fell silent. Taehyung had already told you about the disappearance of his wife, unlike other topics, this was the one that seemed like a fable. There were no traces, like smoke that vanished on a sunset.
You can see on his eyes that ache every time he mentions her; you wish you could lick his old wounds, not to cure them, but to soothe the pain.
The way he was holding your hand and the fire trembling on his tan skin made him look like an angel. An untamed one leaves instead of feathers, strong arms to carry the world around him.
You couldn't take it anymore.
"Taehyung," you called, and he didn't have to move because your hand took him by surprise. Guiding him to your hungry lips.
He moaned lowly, making his free hand into a fist to control the euphoria that was running through his body. The wet sound of your mouths devouring each other, he didn't know how much he needed that, the warmth of your tongue licking his lips, the little pant coming out of your strawberry lips.
Oh, how much he hated the fact that he was getting hard just from a kiss, but how couldn't he, good God? You were so delicious.
He snatched his hand from yours and took both of your hands to squeeze above your head. Your back arched, and you mewled as you felt his hand squeeze your wrists.
Taehyung's eyes flickered to your face. Was he doubting what he was doing? Did you do something wrong?
"If you want to stop-"
"No," he growled desperately. With ease, his free hand grabbed the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, clashing teeth.
"Slow down, Kim." you gasped as he devoured your neck, covering in saliva the fabric of the coat that covered you, almost tearing it apart.
Your hand explored his corduroy pants until it reached the tight bulge against his thigh.
"No. I don't want to," he screeched as he watched what you were doing. "Please, I'm too sensitive right now." It was a plea for you to let him enjoy touching you for a few more minutes, his glassy eyes and red lips.
You were cruel, and God, how he hated you for that. You chuckled low and spread your legs to climb into his lap. The sudden movement knocked the air out of him, hands on either side of the couch.
In one sitting, you were pressing his cock against your clothed pussy.
"Oh no, please. Let me-," his hands went to his mouth, squeezing it hard, the words coming out muffled.
With so few moans he had you addicted to his susceptibility. To his droopy eyes and his angelic whimpers over every little thing you did.
"Please," he asked again but it was in vain when you started moving back and forth and licking his neck. "Fuck me, i can't. Baby-" he mumbled rolling his eyes, reaching heaven with so little. The 'baby' scaped again and again from his lips until it died out.
It was embarrassing, but so sublime.
You loved it. No. You became obsessed.
When he finished, you could feel the wetness on his thigh. You laughed again, taking his face in your fingers; he hung from your fingertips like a puppet. His chin resting on them.
"You look so cute when you're sweaty in the middle of a blizzard," you said. He closed his eyes, enjoying the compliment.
Without saying anything else, leaving a wet spot on top of his zipper and his mouth open; you got up and went up the rustic stairs.
You were going to be the death of him.
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The morning arrives quietly and with the sun coming in gently through the windows, you are grateful that the snow has stopped as you get up to put on your socks. Frank was sleeping between woolen sheets in the closet. When he heard you calling him he opened his eyes and lazily moved his thick tail.
The bed was made on Taehyung's side. Last night you hardly slept thinking about what you two had done in the living room, you waited anxiously for him to go to the room to finish what you had started, but you fell asleep waiting for him.
Maybe he was upset because you rushed him or he was embarrassed. Either way, you could still feel the moisture your pussy had let out just thinking about his face coming. Like a broken record, just as his pelvis raised to make one last contact with your clit.
You sighed and let the cool water calm your arousal. The small mirror showed your reflection, you were pale. Since the sun doesn't rise so often, you feel like you're withering. The tinting of your cheeks was already disappearing.
Your eyes were guided to the small photo pasted on the mirror, it was an ID with your face. The ink on the image was fading, with your name and date of birth right next to it.
It was the only thing you had for sure, maybe your face wasn't even that one. You returned to your reflection and began to notice every little detail: the dark circles under your eyes and the dry lips from biting them so much, the slightly yellowish teeth, and the eye that was smaller than the other. 
That's new, you thought. Only if you looked hard enough could you see how your right eye involuntarily closed a little more than the other, the more you looked at it in the mirror, the more obvious it was.
The sound of a pot falling followed by a grunt made you snap out of your morning exam. You walked quickly to the stairs going down in a hurry.
You were surprised to see Taehyung in the kitchen, his hands covered in whipped cream and the sweet smell of freshly baked bread. A small tight smile apologizing for waking you up.
"Uh," he wiped his hands clean and leaned closer to you, placing an awkward kiss on your forehead. "Happy Birthday."
"Thank you." You smiled softly, his hand found yours to guide you to the rustic table that he had made years ago, it was heavy and robust. It combined with everything that was seen in that kitchen, small details you had done here and there, but the smell of oak and the thick fabric of the curtains and the tablecloth were essentially Taehyung.
"I made you breakfast. You must eat it all or I'm really going to stop talking to you for a month."
As if he could.
"Because?"
"I spent all night trying to make whipped cream, found a book in the stack and it took me almost a dozen eggs to get it right."
"That's where you were last night." You smiled and he tensed, embarrassment painting his cheeks red. "Did you need a book to know how to follow our...?" You made an obscene gesture that made Taehyung turn to finish breakfast.
"You are so intense in the mornings."
"You've stopped smoking in the morning, have you noticed?"
Taehyung frowned. "It's true."
"I annoy you so much you don't need the nicotine to wake up."
"If that achievement makes you happy, go ahead." He crossed his legs as he sat down next to you. "Bon appétit."
You looked in front of you, on your plate was a piece of freshly baked bread toasted in the color of the sun. The whipped cream was smooth and slightly eggy, with peach slices decorated on top creating an attempt at a flower. The smell was intoxicating and your mouth watered from it.
Taehyung's chest swelled with joy as you took the first bite and inhaled. You looked at him tenderly. That human habit of food being the perfect language to show love without touching.
"It's good," you agreed taking another bite. "Did you try it?"
Taehyung denied raising his hand to ask you to continue tasting.
"I have something else for you," he said before you took another bite. You could see and hear in the silence of the kitchen how his foot bounced with eagerness to show you the other things.
Taehyung took a paper bag from his jacket hanging on the door and put it on your lap. His hands didn't let you open the material, kneeling on the floor in front of you.
"Slow down, Kim. For God's sake." you laughed looking at him. He imitated you.
"Sorry, it's just that I've been saving this for a long time."
You couldn't stop seeing him, it was impossible how much you loved him in such a short time. You looked down at your lap as he lowered your chin with his hand.
Inside the paper were many trinkets, colorful and very varied. Buttons, an old lighter with a rose carved on it, a ring in the shape of a butterfly, a deep red dried ink, and underneath it all the pale lace of a lingerie set.
You smiled as you put everything else aside and looked at the pieces in detail.
"Isn't there a more subtle way of saying you want to fuck me?" you joked
Taehyung didn't laugh, again he was looking at you with nervous eyes.
"I want to give you a portrait."
You put the lingerie on the table and looked at him. You knew that his painting materials were becoming more and more scarce. You denied it instantly.
"Don't worry, I'll use some oils that I have saved, they are in perfect condition and I want to use them with you." he rose clutching your face in his hands, like something ethereal. How could he see you in the morning and make you feel so lovely?
"I want to paint your lips," he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, "And your eyes."
"Even when one is smaller?"
He chuckled slightly at your sweet question.
"Especially the smaller one."
His hand grabbed the last bite of toast and opened your mouth with his thumb, delicately inserting it. "I told you to eat it all." his face was serious.
His thumb began to smear all the cream that remained in the corners of your mouth, pressing your lips while your tongue tried to lick his fingers.
"That is my girl." he hummed cocking his head at you.
Your toes tensed when you heard him say that.
"Open up," he commanded and you obeyed, opening your mouth to remove the sticky cream from his finger. He swallowedwhen he saw you lick every drop.
Your beautiful face, your messy hair, and your mouth covered in peach juices and whipped cream. So sweet and erotic that it made his stomach clench with the urge to eat you.
"I would like you to paint me in the summer, though."
"Because?"
"Because that way I could return the color to my cheeks, to see myself more..." you didn't know what the word was.
Taehyung could have cared less.
"Fine." he sighed and tossed the plate to the side with a crash. Suddenly, you were in his arms, he laid you down gently on the wood of the table.
"Tae?" a squeal came from you when you felt the cold in your pussy, Taehyung ripped your panties and began to rub his digits on your clit with such delicacy.
"Shh," he responded, grabbing the chair to walk over to the table and sit down. With one hand he brought your body closer to his face and began to run his tongue through your folds.
This is what he wanted to do last night and you didn't let him.
Your legs began to shake and he looked up through narrowed eyes. Your surprised face was so funny, it almost made him want to let you cum as fast as you let him.
"Spread your legs, let me see you." there was something so obscene about the way his voice deepened. He embarrassed you. "Aren't you going to let me eat you?"
You didn't know what to say.
"What happened that pretty girl who wouldn't shut the fuck up, huh?" His wet lips kissed your entrance with each word. "Where are your smart answers and the fucking questions about how I jerk off?" With one hand he hit your clit and you whimpered. "There it is." he smiled.
"God," you moaned so loud trying to get your nightgown down, it hurt so good. Taehyung squeezed your wrists with one hand and started devouring you again, your juices flowing on his nose and his tongue and you knew how much he liked it by the way he growled and bit the inside of your thigh.
It hurt but you couldn't stop moaning, your hands turning into claws from the tension wanting to grab his tangled hair, to see his face covered with it in a transparent and shiny layer.
"Atta, girl," he inhaled, snapping back. "Look at you," he smiled at you as he licked the edges of his lips. "The color is returning to your cheeks."
"What?" You stuttered before you felt how his hand collided with your ass. You screamed biting your lip.
"Come here."
His hand carried you to help your weak legs. With his hands under your armpits, he led you to the nearest wall.
"Get naked, pet."
"It's cold."
"Still?" Taehyung asked confused and piled the fabric of your dress in his hand until he found your wet pussy again. Without saying much, he inserted two fingers, curling the tips.
"More," you whispered, you were short of breath and you felt like you were in another cosmic plane with the long fingers of the man behind you.
His other hand began stroking your tummy until it reached your neck, squeezing gently. Hearing your sweet request, he laughed.
"You're a mess and I haven't even fucked you. Are you sure?"
You nodded awkwardly, your head pressed against the wall. A third finger was unexpected and burned.
"You're so wet, it's not fair." Kim sighed. "I want to do everything for you but you won't let me with that little body of yours."
"Mm," was all you could answer, your tongue was heavy and the knot under your stomach had you seeing stars.
"Those short dresses and the laughter and the erotic books and your perfect tits." he moaned turning you around to remove your dress.
Seeing your face again, Taehyung made up his mind; he couldn't take it anymore. Whipped cream decorated your cheek and your open mouth.
"Are you still cold?" His eyes saw you straight into your soul. You denied hugging his neck, hitting your lips with his.
If you didn't kiss him you felt like you were going to implode. His furrowed brows and his broad shoulders, the way he'd talk dirty to you but he'd kiss your shoulder calming your nerves.
There it was again, that tickle in your throat of saying things at the wrong time.
Shut me up with kisses, you thought, shut me up by sealing your lips with mine.
"More." Now it was Taehyung's turn to ask, moaning as he felt how your naked body hung from his waist.
He quickly lowered his pants until he took it off completely. Then his coat.
"Down," he murmured kissing you one last time crashing your body into the wall.
With one hand you grabbed his cock and started to move your hand. A cry came from him and you both nearly fell to the ground in a crash. Taehyung's legs failing from the sudden touch.
You laughed at Taehyung's irate gesture.
"In four. Now," he barked, after kissing you softly. "I want to fuck you, I don't want games anymore, 'kay?"
You nodded drunkenly at the way he spoke to you.
You stopped smiling when he repositioned you like a doll on your knees and hands.
You arched your back as you felt the tip stretch your entrance, you closed your eyes in pure pleasure. The sting was unbelievable, perfect.
"Mmhm," Taehyung ran his finger down your back, "Let me listen to you, love."
How can he call you that without melting?
You pushed yourself into him until your ass touched his pelvis. You both moaned each other's name.
"Fuck," he mumbled, grabbing both sides of your waist to guide your movements. The sounds that filled the kitchen were indecent, your cream accumulated at the base of his cock and your moans drove him crazy.
Yes, he was like a schoolboy when it came to you, he couldn't see your cleavage without wanting to touch himself or look at your lips without wanting to bite them so badly that they bled. You were in addition to his antidote, his new favorite morbidity.
"Atta girl, squeeze me more," he hissed at you slowing his pace down. His moans turned to whimpers as you began to feel the cum dripping down your thighs. You were about to cum and he could feel it. "Let me feel those walls, baby. Cum for me."
You lifted your upper body so you could move against him and with two brushes of his fingers on your puffy clit you began to scream his name letting your face fall into your hands.
You both panted hard, abruptly, Taehyung pulled his cock out, revealing how his cum came out of you. God, he prays that this is the one that knocks you up.
Getting up, he grabbed your delicate body and took you to the sofa, lit the fireplace, and left you alone for a few minutes. When he returned he brought with him a blank canvas the length of his forearm and a couple of charcoal pencils.
The afterglow had your cheeks with the most beautiful tint. Flushed and plump lips from biting it so much. You let your hair do what it wants, just how he likes it and you smiled at him when he sat down in front of you. You squinted your eyes when you smiled and his shoulders relaxed.
"Stay still, please," he whispered while he took a pencil in his hands.
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skelliko · 27 days
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kazutora hanemiya |°- is it platonic or romantic?
|°- Baji and chifuyu tried to convince kazu that he's actually in love (good timeline)
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normally kazutora wouldn't be the one to get so confused over his feelings about another, normally he'd be seeking the opportunity to be able to feel 'love' and the comfort that's supposed to come with it. but right now this feeling that he's getting is the most prominent and confusing feeling he's ever gotten.
this feeling has grown to be more than uncomfortable, it's tightening around his throat so much that he needs to wrap his hand around the base of his neck, feeling his pulse thumping through the thin layer of skin that's in-between the gap of his collar bones. his stomach feels like an empty cave that holds a singular spider making pointless webs that won't be able to catch anything, and his chest seems to always feel some sort of anguishing heat that could also be mistaken for coldness.
he's not in love. is he? if this is the feeling that people get when they start to like someone then he wishes to erase every form of a sappy, love bullshit. this doesn't feel romantic at all, its agonising.
your perfume fills his nostrils but you're no where near by, it's just him alone almost unable to sit through this aching tightness. it's gotten so bad that he feels like he needs to throw up in order to banish this painful feeling. but he's not going to purge, that'd be an obscure decision to make for himself. but him sitting up on his bed with trembling hands makes it seem that maybe its not a bad attempt.
you're his friend, nothing more. sure he feels like he can listen to you forever while finding your rambling cute. and sure he always feels the need to playfully hold your hand which then causes some laughter about the odd movements you both do. and when you both take unexpected pictures here and there of each other; hes always looking back at the photos he's taken of you longer than a minute whilst smiling at them, seeing your captured smile makes him smile. but there's nothing wrong with thinking or feeling that way about a friend, right? yeah, there's nothing wrong with that.
but the thought of you being with someone else puts his stomach through a repetitive feeling of falling, it's as if kazutora is in a constant state of being pushed off a high ledge. you being with someone else spikes his anxiety high and the need of being with you is always there to distract you from any other potential takers that could snatch you up, take, and keep you away from kazu.
---
it wasn't until after a week of this bullshitting that kazutora ended up talking about this odd feeling about you to Baji and chifuyu. chifuyu certainly had the most fun with this little discussion out of the three of them whereas Baji took it a tad bit more seriously knowing that kazutora's feelings shouldn't be taken as a joke.
kazu yapping his heart out about you, mentioning how he feels this and that with you, how it pains him when you're pained and he'd do anything to keep you safe and secure. but also how he feels empty on the inside when thinking about you, how he wishes that time could just stop when your both having a wholesome, heart melting moment because he's afraid that someone will rip kazutora's hand away from your grasp and replace him making neither of your eyes to ever meet again.
"seems like you love her" chifuyu spoke up, he held a little smile and rested his jaw on his palm almost as if he was fascinated when listening to kazu talk about his 'best friend'
"I don't though! I'm just attached to her- or something like that" immediately protesting against the comment whilst waving his hand around at 'whatevet' but opened his mouth again after a second "I think..."
"you think?" chifuyu pestered in hopes of getting kazutora to think more clearly. it's clear that he's yet to understand what he feels right now.
even though Baji became lost in the middle of kazutora's rant cause he kept on going back and forth from feeling happy about you to then feeling almost anguished; the question that was asked next certainly hit kazutora where it pained him the most.
"oi, if you can't tell if it's platonic or more, picture her at her wedding that isn't yours. are you happy for her or do you wish to be the one marrying her?" (idea isnt mine, i got this from a video)
chifuyu looked over at Baji but then immediately moved his eyes over at kazutora to see his reaction "ohhh good one!"
"that's stupid. marriage is a big thing y'know" kazu rolled his eyes over to the side but deep down he was thinking
you at a wedding? he couldn't help but grow angry at the thought of you being off the market for romance. he grew nauseous and sick at just the thought of you being latched onto another person that's not him but he wasn't gonna show that. he doesn't want you to be with someone else but that doesn't mean he wants to date you either, he just wants you all to himself... which thinking back at that now makes it sound really selfish of him. is he even actually capable of romance?
he began to fiddle with the folds of his trousers by his knee whilst sat down on the carpet floor in Baji's room. taking hold of a fold with his pointer finger and thumb and rubbing the fabric together creating some very subtle vibrations against his finger tips as it forcebly brushes against itself. kazutora stayed silent.
"soooo you gonna answer?" - chifuyu
kazu didn't even look up at him, he didn't look up at all since his eyes were just down at this fingers fiddling with his trousers. on the outside he may seem distracted but on the inside he was very much deep in thought, he kept going back and forth on how to verbalise this feeling to then wanting to just shut down, leave and not talk about you or to anyone at all.
but what if the time that he's here, you've already found someone new to talk to, you'll cast Kazutora away and hell never see you again... once that thought popped up he stopped fiddling and it was only then that he made a decision.
"i want her forever. i could love her if it'll mean she stays with me" though as he said this it didn't seem like he was all too happy about it, but he also didn't seem upset by it either. it was as if kazutora found a solution but that said solution seemed to be the only way even tho he hoped there to be more.
"you don't seem too happy about that" baji raising a singular brow
"cause I want to love her but I feel like I'll be unable to"- kazu
"but you just said that you'd love her..." chifuyu mentioned, then silence filled the room for a breif moment, kazutora opened his mouth to speak but before he could make a sound something clicked in Chifuyu's brain "wait don't tell me you're emotionally unavailable! that'd make so much sense but also make things more harder to understand"
"hah?" beyond confused as to what chifuyu is talking about here
"no ignore him tora" Chifuyu looked over at Baji a little offended at the disagreement "you just need a big push, it's clear you want her but i think your not allowing yourself to. your in denial"
"I'm not in 'denial' I know what I feel" kazu protesting even though that's far from the truth,
"and that is?" -baji
silence filled the room again. neither of them have any actual experience with the feeling of love in terms of romance but yet they managed to put kazutora in a corner. because although he's the one who's the closest in getting with or has talked to a girl that makes him flutter; he's the only one who can't understand the feeling of 'love'. it's as if his feelings are behind a blurred window whereas for everyone else it's clear, no matter how hard he squints his eyes to try and see what's behind the window, theres always a possibility that he may think wrongly about the feelings and mix this current feeling for something else. hence why he can't tell if this 'love' is platonic or romantic.
chifuyu broke the silence with a question "would you date her?" to which kazutora responded with a pained and stressed "I don't know" any more of this and he might just get agitated from the amount of strain he has with his emotions
"okay wait let's start off simple" chifuyu waving his hands in front of him to switch up the question. Baji looked over at him a little confused on what he's gonna do or ask but after a few questions in, he understood clearly what game chifuyu is playing.
asking him some basic questions such as, "would you hold her hand?" to which kazu said how you both already do. "would you kiss her?" and with almost no hesitation kazu replied with a yes. "would you text her every day and night?" maybe? it depends "would you tell her that you love her? lets start with platonicly" yes. "would you do something sexual with her" if she's comfortable.
before either chifuyu or Baji could ask another question in hopes of kazu being able to open his mind more, kazutora spoke up and cut their next question off.
these questions went back and forth and over time kazutora knew what Chifuyu was doing, and although some questions seemed to be a little hard to answer at first, he felt almost relieved to answer them because over time he managed to link everything up and be able to unblur the window from before. he finally understood... kinda.
"I'd date her..." but even with saying this out loud it still made his stomach turn, something still wasn't right which made him feel as if something was wrong with what he just claimed, or maybe theres something wrong with him. but he didn't verbalise this feeling.
both Baji and chifuyu smiled at kauz's little statement about wanting to date you, they even exclaimed a few words here and there as if they were proud of him for being able to realise that he generally wants you.
"but I think I'll wait for her to do the first move" kazutora's smile died down a little from before and after stating this their 'little' celebration also died down
"oh c'mon! you went through all this just to not come forward to her?" - chifuyu
"that makes sense" Baji nodding his head but then froze for a second when a thought came up "but what if she never does?" this definitely didn't cause kazu to become relieved, it caused the opposite.
'shit' he thought. there's always that being a possibility. if you never end up making a move on taking the friendship further into it being romantic then he'll never be able to express himself the way he wishes to, he won't be able to cuddle you close to the point where it seems as if your soles would conjoin, he won't be able to feel his face being plastered with your sweet kisses, and he certainly won't be able to call you his.
why is 'love' so frustrating?
"I think you should make your move" Baji suggested making chifuyu to nod his head in agreement. but it only caused kazu to let out a sigh, tired? frustrated? feeling nauseous again? it's all three at the same time.
he knows he can't keep up with this any longer, if for one day he feels fine with you but then the next he feels like he needs to be put in a mental asylum; it'll eventually cause him to break completely, and that's far from what he wants for himself. and then again, what if you love him but only platonicly? even if kazutora secretly is still unsure what he feels, he knows that if you were to make the first move hell agree to whatever words you spew out if it means that you both will get together and be able to do all those comforting, romantic activities.
he buried his face in his hands and mumbled a few curse words to himself which caused Chifuyu and Baji to share an almost apologetic look. "hey, don't beat yourself up! were thinking of the worst case here but what if she's feeling the same way as you" chifuyu spoke up trying to ease some sort of pain, Baji pitched in too "I reckon shes feeling the same way you are"
"forget it, I'll get over her at some point" kazu lifting his head up from his hands and repositioning himself comfortably on the floor. it's like his whole demeanor changed from being all beat up to just brushing it off with a 'whatever' but we all know this is just a facade and he'll eventually break again, hes not that strong in terms of being able to contain his emotions.
 ♡---
as of currently, he's given up on the topic and there's nothing that could make him re-continue the subject. but one day, he'll get his senses knocked back on alert and his eyes will glisten with hearts because his mind had decided that he's sick and tired of this longing feeling which will lead to him confess about his emotions and feelings towards you. it could be months, weeks, days, or of the strain that he has is too much right now it could even be a few hours, but who knows.
if there's one thing that's for sure though, it's that kazutora truly does love her but he's just unfamiliar with the feeling and due to that it's making him freak out. it's like putting a rain forest lizard in a desert and expecting it to immediately adapt, the sudden change in temperature and environment will cause the lizard to be put under too much stress and soon enough it'll flake away into the oblivion. maybe not the best example to use in terms of the end but the beginning is definitely on point.
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steddieas-shegoes · 8 months
Text
sometimes it's too real
for the @steddieholidaydrabbles warm up round 3 (prompt: Halloween) rated: T wc: 577 cw: some blood mentions (fake and real) tags: mention of Upside Down related trauma, hurt/comfort
🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃
Eddie thought it was a funny joke, and it was.
Like, to all of the others, it was hilarious.
But to Steve, it was a reminder of how close they came to losing Eddie, how close they were to his heart actually stopping, his skin going pale.
He knew it was ridiculous, so he choked out a laugh and found a way to keep busy.
Snacks were mostly prepped, drinks already on ice, decorations hung with the help of Eddie and Robin.
But he could always find something to clean, and tonight's victim was the kitchen sink. Anything to avoid seeing the fake blood dripping from Eddie's mouth and neck.
He should have known it would only work for a few minutes, Eddie being basically attached to his hip ever since they made the whole boyfriend thing official.
Eddie's arms wrapped around his waist, his hands settled on Steve's stomach.
"I vant to suck your blooooood," Eddie said in a silly accent, nipping at Steve's neck.
Any other time, Steve would giggle and let him do it, let it lead to a kiss on the lips or more.
But he couldn't erase the image of Eddie coughing up blood as he tried to hold onto Steve as he was carried out of the Upside Down. He couldn't erase the way Dustin was sobbing next to him, how Robin was trying to hold it together so that Dustin didn't sense her panic.
He knew if he turned to see Eddie now, he wouldn't see his costume, he'd see him dying.
"You okay, sweetheart? Need any help?" Eddie asked, slowly pulling away when he sensed that Steve wasn't in the mood to be silly with him.
"Fine. You can go back out there."
"I will if you tell me what's bothering you," Steve could hear the crossed arms in his tone.
"Nothing, Eds. Just want everything to be perfect for the kids."
That was true, and he knew Eddie believed that, but he also knew it wasn't everything and Eddie would absolutely know that, too.
"Is it something I did?" Eddie asked.
Steve turned to him, finally looking at him and resisting the urge to flinch.
He must not have succeeded because Eddie was pulling away quickly.
"It's just. It's the blood. I know it's fake and I know it's stupid and this is supposed to be fun and a joke, but just seeing you with blood is a lot," Steve explained, hating himself more by the second for ruining Eddie's fun.
"Stevie, why didn't you say something before? I can wash it off," Eddie turned towards the sink to do just that when Steve reached his hand out to stop him.
"No, I-"
"Stevie, I am not letting you suffer your way through trauma if I can do something to help."
Steve didn't have any response to that, so Eddie continued to run the water until it was warm, and started splashing some onto his face and scrubbing the evidence of fake blood away.
"The kids..."
"I'll just tell them some got in my mouth when I took a drink and it tasted gross and didn't wanna risk it happening again. They won't care, they're on sugar highs already."
Steve still felt stupid for letting this bother him, but when Eddie wrapped his arms around him and leaned in to kiss him softly, reassuringly, he knew it was fine.
Maybe next Halloween it would be a little easier.
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zarla-s · 4 months
Note
Hi. Wanted to ask you about"you will never leave here not in the way that matters" thing. Is it purely in the physical sence (like that ink blob will find Gaster everywhere)?
It's primarily in an emotional sense! It works on several levels actually.
The goopmonster has been inflicting torture on Gaster that he feels like he deserves and thus doesn't try to escape for the most part - this is also why it says "and you thought I was what was keeping you here?" in a mocking way. Gaster willingly tries to go back to it, which the goopmonster also mocks him about by going "if you insist" to him. In essence, he'll never escape his self-loathing, or the feeling that he deserves to be tortured for everything that he's done (or didn't do), or the trauma of the entire experience of being erased and tortured eternally/instantly. He can't escape the damage he's endured and inflicted - in some way he will always carry it with him, much like how the black void drips out of his scars on the surface.
But, this and the monster are a reflection of Gaster's pessimistic worldview and his general lack of hope. Trauma, how people react to it and how people overcome and learn to live with it, is the major theme of Handplates. People can't "leave" their trauma entirely behind, so to speak, but they can grow, live, love, be happy, and hope, even while bearing its scars. It's not the be-all end-all of their lives, and it doesn't have to be all of Gaster's life. That was part of why Papyrus was so insistent that Gaster try to leave - try to move on - from what he'd done and what he'd been through to try and build a better life.
It comes up again later, when Gaster is on the surface, where he says that it's hard for him to believe that they're free and that it won't be taken away from him again, residual fear from what he went through during the War. Essentially, PTSD. It's then that he gets some perspective on what the goopmonster said to him - you'll never leave here, not in a way that matters. Even if he leaves the void, his damage will come with him. Even when he has everything he wanted, he can't feel safe. He can't feel peace. He can't escape it.
But of course, right after that, Asgore suggests ways he can deal with it, ways he can learn how to handle it and live with it, and he goes with him to do so. He gets books about how to live and deal with trauma and PTSD, he reads them and works on it. He tries, like he promised Papyrus he would. He can't erase what happened, he can't "leave" it, but he can still work to make a better life for himself and work to be a better person for the people around him. Those scars are part of him and his world, but they're only part of it.
It does also work on a more literal level - Gaster can never entirely leave there because he's not entirely put together. Pieces of him are still missing and still scattered across the void, parts of him he can't get back or understand or possibly even recognize as himself anymore (part of the makeup of the goopmonster itself? perhaps :3).
It also applies on a meta level with Gaster being the panel borders, which disappear when they're in the void. That blackness will always be there just by its nature, defining time and space by the panels and gutters (well... lack of gutters...). So Gaster can never leave the void because he is the void, to an extent, and he can never escape his fall into it or even his way out of it because his being encompasses the panels that define the entire function of time for the comic's reality. He's in a perpetual state of eternity and instantaneous, present for every moment of the comic from beginning to end but unable to change it or understand what it is he's doing or even is. Panels define time and space for a comic, but that time is an illusion, under the control and imagination of the reader.
He tries to describe this a few times to others but it's very difficult since he doesn't understand that what he's in is a comic, he can't comprehend that perspective or that that's what he's seeing. Being in a game seems like the more logical conclusion, even if that still has holes. But anyway.
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luveline · 2 years
Note
thinking about shy!reader joining hellfire for the first time and being really nervous and intimidated by eddie so he tries to make her feel better ❤️
i didn't know if it was supposed to be bf!eddie or not so i made it ambiguous like maybe you're in that limbo stage before ♡ shy!fem!reader | 0.7k words
You get there earlier than you should. The only person in the club room is Eddie, perched on the arm of his throne with a mass market paperback bent into a shape in one hand. 
You knock awkwardly. 
Eddie doesn't flinch. He drops the book and pulls his shirt away from his chest, a smile overtaking his pretty features as you walk into the middle of the room.
"I'm sorry I'm early," you say, eyes on his hand. His rings brush the wood of the long table as he meets you. 
"Don't be, I was just perusing this lil' thing for campaign ideas to steal. Are you ready?" 
You'd talked to him a couple times now about coming. This was the first you'd actually managed to bring yourself here, and only because Eddie had been so kind about it. 
You look at the table and feel especially daunted. "Where… where does everybody sit? I don't want to take someone's seat," you say, your voice a weak whisper by the time you've finished. 
Eddie clasps his own shoulder with one hand, the other at his elbow. "You can sit at the top by me."
Your eyes go wide. "Everyone will look at me." 
"Everybody's too busy arguing about rolls and looking for their pencils or an eraser to bother, trust me." He takes a step toward you. "If you sit by me, I can keep an eye on you, yeah? Whisper hints at you." 
"I don't wanna cheat." 
"That's the spirit." 
Eddie sits down heavily, slouches and stretches his legs out to one side. He's smiling that shark-tooth smile that intimidates and endears you with his hands flat to his abdomen, the tiniest sliver of midriff on display. You're so distracted by him that you almost forget your nerves. Almost. 
"What are you so scared of?" he asks. 
He nudges the chair closest to his with the bottom of a thick soled converse and you sit down gingerly, his foot between yours. 
"Embarrassing myself," you admit. 
"Like, not knowing what something means?" 
"Yeah, but… I don't know. What if I make a bad decision? A stupid one." 
"I make 'em all the time." You stare at him. "I'm not kidding around. I won't think far enough ahead, or I spend hours designing a room and somebody uses a conjuration spell for a rope and just - climbs right out." He shrugs. "Shit happens." 
You try not to sulk too obviously. You want to believe him and adopt his nonchalance. "You know what you need?" he asks suddenly.
It feels like a trick question. "What?" 
He pulls a black pen from between the pages of his dark bound notebook and gestures to your hand. You offer it, feel a shattering of pin pricks under the skin at his light touch, ink spreading with a ticklish coolness.
He draws a symbol you've never seen before, thumb pulling your skin taut. Your heart feels like a hummingbird fighting its way out of your chest unsuccessfully as you try not to think about how close he is or how he can probably smell your perfume. You can smell his cologne. Something sweet like bourbon vanilla hiding under a headier woody scent, maybe cedar of sandal. 
"There," he mutters, setting the pen down with an even bigger smile than before. "Abracadabra, babe." 
"What is it?" you ask. 
Eddie looks you straight in the eye and leans back into the throne.
"A spell for courage," he says, chin lifted high, lips forming each word with flare. 
The first lot of club members arrive. 
By the time the sessions ended your cheeks ache from smiling. There's a lightness you hadn't expected to feel, though whether it's from the game or Eddie's little reassurances, his murmured check-ins or the toe of his shoe rubbing your ankle under the table, you don't know.
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biblio-smia · 5 months
Note
“you can’t scare me like that, okay?” w mike schmidt <3? love ur work!
thank u!!! <333 | part of v’s 800 follower celebration!
when mike's call goes to voicemail, he doesn't mind. you're probably busy. maybe you didn't hear the ringing of your phone over the noise of something else.
when you don't call back, mike finds his mind start to wonder. did he do something wrong? do you not like him anymore?
when the clock hits six p.m., mike tries again. he hears the line ring for what seems like hours. this is unusual - the longest you've taken to pick up is three rings at most.
mike knows your schedule better than his. he knows you're sitting in your kitchen right now, thinking of what to put together for dinner. even if you left your phone somewhere, you would still hear the landline. so, mike tries again. one more time.
nothing.
now he worries about being overbearing. he hopes he's not annoying you, but he knows deeps down you're not the type to shy away from a conversation if you did happen to have an issue. it's unlike you.
this is unlike you.
mike is beginning to worry when it's ten p.m. and he still hasn't heard from you. he's found that he hasn't relaxed all afternoon, realized how important your presence (even if it's just the sound of your voice) is to his daily routine. mike feels a little ridiculous, depending on you so much, mind spinning between worried about coming off as clingy and simply worried about you.
he can't stand it by twelve, his heart thumping wildly and his imagination assuming the worst. he's gone through a million possible scenarios in his head, thousands of excuses. none of them fit quite right and mike is beginning to think back to a childhood memory that's haunted him for years.
he's off before he can really think about it, quiet enough not to wake abby but keeping a hasty pace. he's in his car, he's a little too much over the speed limit, he's in front of your door. mike is even more hesitant now that he's here. what if you were just avoiding him? was he making things worse?
mike decides it's worth the risk to knock. it's strong, but no other sounds in the quiet neighborhood follow. mike is about to give up after a few too many moments of silence when he finally hears footsteps.
mike perks up as the door opens and he finally sees you. mike doesn't care if you don't want anything to do with him; he hugs you immediately.
mike's sure you're confused, but you hug him back immediately. at least there's a good sign.
mike feels a little silly as he parts, looking at the clear confusion on your face.
"what's wrong?" you ask innocently, immediately erasing all of mike's worries.
"i thought..." mike shakes his head. "nothing."
"no, tell me," you insist, grabbing mike and dragging him inside. your home is dark; you obviously had gone straight to the door as soon as you'd heard it.
"i just thought... something might've happened." mike's voice shakes a little, his fears suddenly pressing on his chest. mike watches your eyes soften and he wills his emotions not to show so obviously on his face. "you can't scare me like that, okay?"
"i'm sorry," you say sincerely, taking mike's hands in yours. "i was just exhausted after work-"
mike shakes his head. "no, don't apologize for that. i was just kinda worried."
if mike is completely honest, he's a little embarrassed. he'd never thought he'd be the type to need so much reassurance. he didn't want to be clingy.
"i won't take naps like that again," you pull mike into another hug.
"oh, don't do that. just... call me whenever you wake up."
"what if i don't wake up until two in the morning?" you smile.
"then you call me at two in the morning." mike grins, kissing your cheek. "i should go."
"you can stay. it's the least i can do after neglecting you."
"okay," mike scoffs with a smile, shaking his head. "i wasn't totally helpless."
"no, you just missed me," you coo, letting mike cup your face in his hands.
he laughs before he leans in to place a soft kiss on your lips.
"yeah, i really did."
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brucewaynehater101 · 27 days
Note
Hi! I have a writing idea, but I neither have the skill nor the motivation to turn it into a full story, so I thought of sharing it with you because *grips you by the shoulders with tired eyes* you have soooooo many writing ideas, and most of them inspired this brainrot in the first place
It all starts with Tim Drake living the good life. He's married, he has an aquarium full of fish, he's Aquaman's No. 1 Rival in being loved by fishes, and he's a mentor of most Young Heroes of that generation.
He's literally a grandpa (grand-uncle? grunkle?) with a good relationship with his brothers and Bruce, and a loving and spicy relationship with his partners (I can't choose between Kon and Bernard so they're poly)
He dies of old age with no regrets, content with his life and full of hope for the future.
And then he wakes the fuck up.
What. Was. Was none of that real? Did everything good that happened just a dream? A figment of his imagination?
Because not only did he not wake up, he woke up in a pool of his own blood within Titan's Tower. Jason was still there, painting on the wall with the blood that Tim spilled, still wearing that laughingly atrocious costume.
This.
This is bullshit.
Was his life too good that the universe decided "Ha. Fuck you. You need to suffer more, Bitch," and chucked him all the way to the past?
Jason notices him awake, picks up Tim's bō, and prepares to whack Tim.
But Tim barely cares. He's hurting in so many places. He misses his husbands. He just wanted his forever vacation.
He closes his eyes and just waits for the unconsciousness to happen.
It happens, and the next time he wakes up, Nightwing is hovering over him, and Batman is walking away to hunt Red Hood down.
Tim takes in a deep breath. Exhales slowly.
And then, he screams, "GET THE FUCK BACK HERE, YOU GODDAMN FURRY."
Bruce pauses in his walk, Dick is gaping, and Alfred simply blinks at the side.
"YOU GONNA GO SEE JASON? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO? SLIT HIS THROAT? YA BETTER STOP WHERE YOU FUCKING ARE BEFORE YOU DECIDE TO CONFRONT HIM, BECAUSE BY DIANA, YOU'RE MESSED UP IN THE FUCKING HEAD, YOU KNOW THAT?"
Dick tries to placate him. "Tim, calm down--"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, DICK! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS FUCKER DID ON MY BIRTHDAY?! ASK ALFRED BECAUSE HE WAS IN ON IT, TOO!"
Tim was panting now. But he didn't care. He remembered heart to hearts with Jason. He remembered how he and Jason had matching neck scars, and how much pain Jason's face was in when he shared what happened between him and Bruce.
"We need to restrain, Bruce. He's going to kill Jason. He's going to put Jason back in the grave if we let him go out."
Everyone pauses, Dick and Alfred's eyes widened in horrified shock. Bruce's face paled.
Tim may have exaggerated a bit, but they don't know that. Because Jason still died. His heart restarts later, but it really doesn't erase what happened.
"I don't kill."
Tim scoffed.
"Just because a man doesn't die at that moment, doesn't mean he won't die later if he's left for dead.
"Jason is going to make you choose between him and the Joker. You're going to save the Joker. And Jason? Because he's no longer how you remember him? He's going to be left with so many injuries caused by you. And you'd want no one helping him, because you don't believe that the Jason that came back is even him anymore. Ergo, an indirect killing, Batman."
Tim glares at Alfred. "I don't fucking care if you're on Bruce's side." Then, he snarls at Dick, "And I don't fucking care if you know Bruce more than I do!"
"I don't give a damn that Jason hunted me down for some twisted revenge or some shit.
"But here's what I do care about: I worked too hard in making sure that the idea of Batman doesn't get tarnished. I'm Robin now. I'm here because I believe you need a Robin. And I'm going to do my fucking job of being your leash if it's the last thing I do!"
Bruce is just fucking standing there.
Tim wants to rip that cowl off.
He already went through sooooo many heartbreaking conversations with Bruce in his old life. Why does he have to go through this again?! Did Jason and Bruce not talk about this with each other in the other timeline?! Does Tim have to bridge their relationship and mediate like he does when Dick comes to visit?
Fuck this life.
Ahhhh, Tim misses his husbands so much, why couldn't they regress back in time with him?
After a few moments, Bruce.
Fucking.
He fucking leaves!
Tim gapes, he glances to Dick with his disbelief clear on his face, and then he grabs a pillow and screams into it.
Fuck. Fuck-fuckity-fuck-fuck.
Tim is soooooo not doing this anymore. He's 16 again, c'mon! He doesn't even feel any of his joint pains (which may be because of the anesthesia, but whatever.)
Tim turns to Dick with a grim expression.
"Call Superman," he says. "And Wonder Woman, and Martian Manhunter. Heck, even call Green Lantern and Flash."
"Why?" he asks.
This motherfucker even had the gall to be confused.
"Because you're the Justice League's eldest child that they raised together as a village," Tim says slowly, as if he's talking to a preschooler. "Let's not give a fuck about the 'no metas in Gotham' rule, and start giving a fuck about all we could accomplish by letting so many adultier adults help us."
Thank Billy Batson Dick nods.
"We're gonna save Jason?"
Tim shrugs, lies down, and tugs his blanket over his whole body. "I don't give a fuck about Jason, Dick."
"Wha--"
"I just care about making sure that Batman doesn't turn into a villain to his own children. He's already fucked up so bad with you, Dick. We gotta make sure he doesn't fuck up any more, especially when Bruce wants to bring Jason home some time later when he stops being an ass."
Tim makes a mental note to make sure that Bruce doesn't get any mind control technology on his hands either.
He hears Dick sigh, slide his chair back, and probably stand up.
"I'll be back," he says softly.
Tim grunts like the true bat-child he is.
Finally, Dick leaves.
Unfortunately, Alfred was still here.
In the previous timeline... Tim never got a heart to heart with Alfred about all the things the man did and didn't do. And he thought he moved on but...
This is the man who gave him the Robin suit first. This is the man who he helped take dishes away from the table every time Dick and Bruce gets onto their violent screaming matches. This is the man who everyone put on the pedestal, but is Tim's equal in everything regarding Bruce's wellbeing.
And it hurt. It hurt so much when only Tim is witness to all of this man's flaws.
°°°°°°°°°°
Aaaaand then I got nothing else to add. I have no idea where I was going with this but here is the culmination of my hatred for Batman, my disenchantment with Alfred, and my need for Tim to scream his heart out because, no. Tim did not die contentedly. He did not actually die a natural death of old age. And the only hope for the future he has is of him meeting up with Kon and Bernard in heaven while everything else on earth can crash and burn for all he cares.
Hello!!!! I'm so glad you shared this and for the compliments. It makes me really happy to see people sharing their AUs. It kind of feels like a community project? People will reblog or do asks for different AUs, so lots of people end up contributing. I love that this is the direction this blog has taken.
As far as what you've shared? Positively beautiful. Fuck Bruce, Tim deserves the chance to scream, and I agree about Alfred. I love that man.... but only some versions of him. What he did to Tim was foul, and his tendency to just stand aside (to not stop Bruce) is horrid. Fuck that bystander shit.
For your time travel AU, I love that he died peacefully and old before being thrown into the hell that was his childhood again. Even worse, it's during Titan's Tower, so he can't change anything that leads up to that. He's thrown smack into the thick of all the drama and bullshit.
Also, rip Tim's relationships in the AU. Unless his husbands got transported back in time with him, he wouldn't be able to fall in love with them. He'd look at their younger selves and see them as the children they are (and the kid he no longer feels like).
To add onto that, he might feel older than Bruce too. If Bruce is 35 ish in this and Tim was like 70, he probably sees Bruce as a grown adult who's also a baby. That man needs to get his shit together, but gods is he so fucking young and stupid.
Special parts I loved:
Fish loving Tim more than Aquaman
Tim going from hard-earned decent relationships with his family to the sewage of his Robin years
The acknowledgement that Tim was Alfred's equal on taking care of Bruce (and how much that betrayal hurt)
Jason actually dying when his throat was cut (that's my hc too)
Tim immediately getting the JL involved
I would so be down with exploring this AU more. Your writing is also fantastic!
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