#i have thoughts but they refuse to become words

[hurthermore]

»»------► 𝙰 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 (18+) - 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚘 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚒𝚡 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ✦ 𝙰𝙾𝟹 ✦

Pairing: 𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗!𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Summary: 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗. 𝚂𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘.

Word Count: 𝟻.𝟻𝚔

Warnings: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝟷𝟾+ 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜.

𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚛, 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚢, 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚐𝚢𝚗𝚢, 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚡𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢, 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝

𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎; 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙸 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚣𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟿𝟻% 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘, 𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙲𝙷 𝙸 𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙸𝚂 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙳 𝙾𝚁 𝙱𝙰𝙳??!?!? 𝙾𝚑 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕; 𝙸'𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚑𝚎

𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚖𝚎 <𝟹

“Would you?”

You pondered on his question, dismissing how he had avoided answering yours despite the fact that it wasn’t something you truly knew, even though you had attempted to murder your husband; you had failed that accomplishment in weakness, preventing you from achieving the freedom you craved.

Closing your eyes, you began to recall how more erratic your thoughts had become over the course of a year. You had never wished death upon anyone before Vincent had made his way into your life; latching onto you like a parasite that sucked the life out of you ever so slowly. But your thoughts of Vincent dying, wishing him dead, wishing to kill him, all emerged from the abuse he continuously enacted upon you. Moving the flickering of your pupils to land on Alastor's everlasting gaze that refused to leave your form as you postulated his question; your soft lips gaping ever so slightly as he watched you with an intensity that had you shivering. 

Could you tell him? 

Tell him that you craved to see an end to your husband's life?

No.

If you revealed that, then you would have to explain yourself; explain the abuse.

You weren’t capable of sharing those details.

“I believe I asked you first.” You decided to dodge his question; redirecting the attention back on to him as you leaned toward him ever so slightly, begging to feel the warmth his well built form emitted without having to face the consequences of potential ostracism as you took in the sharpness of his facial structure, your gaze slowly lowering onto his lips, lingering longer than you would’ve liked.

He seemed to not have heard you as he continued to take in the contours of your face, as if he was heavily contemplating your question as his eyes flickered over every inch of facial skin you had to offer; an action that had you squirming as you sat next to him. Your anxiety only heightened as you wondered if he found you attractive or not.

Did Alastor find you attractive?

Vincent always told you that you were beautiful, and you used to believe it; used to believe you were an attractive woman, until that vile being of a man who disguised himself as your husband had entered your life, forcing your confidence to slowly decline like a downward hill. The damage he had inflicted onto you from the past year had not only damaged the physicalities of your body, but it visibly conveyed in your face from how tired the abuse caused upon your brain; how lifeless your once glowing face had become, how dead the look in your eyes had become.

“What if I told you I already have?” Alastors voice pulled you away from the depths of your anxiety induced mind; swarming it instead with bewilderment as you analysed the choice of his words. Already had? His expression seemed suggestive, as if he was attempting to admit a deep dark secret to you with an underlying tone; but the way his smile tugged up in jest had your mind believing it was but a joke. 

Raising an eyebrow at him, a small laugh echoed from your throat ever so slightly. “Then I’d say you have quite an acquired taste in humour.” You beamed your own toothed smile at him as he covered his lower facial structure with his large hand, the one you were so certain he could cover his entire face with from chin to hairline with; and despite not laughing himself, the way his smile tugged even further beneath his covered face as you continued to chuckle let you know he found comedic value in it.

For some reason, you didn’t take him covering his face in a negative light this time.

Attempting to gaze into his soul through his almost black irises that made your heart rate burst as you chuckled with a low and soft tone, he watched you ever so intensely; his hair rhythmically swaying along with yours as the breeze began to pick up ever so slightly. Your heart seemed to become stuck in the depths of your throat as the desire to thread your soft fingertips through his hair was devouring the pits of your mind. And despite the look in his eyes that indicated he wished to ask you again; ask if you would murder someone, he didn't. Instead, he leaned his side back into yours, invading your personal space for the hundredth time; it seemed, before he asked you a question that had you contemplating whether or not it was worse than the previous one.

“What would you have done if you were never arranged to wed that thing?” Spitting out a laugh, you couldn’t believe he had referred to Vincent as a thing. You could feel his smile enlarge from your laughter as his head rested atop of the crown of your scalp.

“You really don’t like him do you?” You asked him with a smile still etched onto your face; your heart basking in warmth as Alastor's hand manoeuvred behind you, only to etch towards your own hand. Despite you asking him a question, he didn’t respond; only waiting for you to actually answer one of his questions with patience as you tried to coherently articulate the words on your tongue; and whether or not you should be truthful with him. But as your sight fixated onto his mother’s grave, you were reminded of how vulnerable Alastor must have reduced himself to, to be able to introduce you to his deceased mother; to open up to you about who she was and how much he loved her. 

You had to give him a bit of vulnerability back; it was only fair, even if you didn’t want to.

As his fingers finally intertwined with yours, you leaned your body back into his. “I’d like to think that I’d be a broadway dancer; I used to always enjoy it when I was younger, and I used to dream of being able to be that good that I could perform before a crowd.” You smiled, reminiscing with melancholy; the thoughts of Broadway forcing your mind to become overwhelmed with Vincent's plan to take you away to New York; a place where it thrived.

But Vincent would never allow you to perform; even if you were there.

Even if you begged.

Without saying anything, Alastor's thumb rubbed against the skin of your dorsal, giving you some comfort as you spoke of your past. “But… Honestly? I always used to dream of meeting my one true love.” You spoke, embarrassment filled with your tone. “I know it sound silly-”

“It’s not silly,” Alastor interrupted you, rightfully so. Your name rolling off his tongue oh so lovely after he spoke. Leaning back so he could gaze into your eyes once again, the tip of his nose brushed against your temple as his words spoke breathly in your face. “I’ve never been the one for love; but recently, I’ve met someone who really has me desiring it in ways I never thought I’d experience.”

Everything shattered inside you as those words left his lips; the words that heavily implied he had met someone he had fallen in love with. Downcasting your eyes to avoid his gaze, you knew in your heart it was best he didn’t reciprocate your feelings. Especially with how Vincent was, with how he was planning to take you away; yet it killed you inside to hear those words, the words that replicated the feeling of a hammer pulverising against your heart in such a wicked way that made tears want to leave your eyes.

Despite how much it hurt, you could only wonder who he had fallen in love with.

You weren’t expecting the desire to kill that person to overcome you as you wondered who they were.

What was wrong with you?

Looking at the sky, you refused to meet Alastors gaze; only to notice how far the sun had moved towards the western side of the sky. Standing up abruptly, you accidentally pushed Alastor off of you before speaking. “I should probably… go home now.” You almost whispered as you still refused to look toward the man who now sat behind you; refusing to allow the sight of him to cause tears to escape your visual organs.

It was best to go home now anyway, regardless of how Alastors words had broken you; the thought of Vincent coming home before you only drenched you with a dread that seemed to grow like a bad lump on the organs of your chest.

Why was everything getting dizzy all of a sudden?

Stumbling ever so slightly as the world began to spin, you felt Alastor’s stong hold grip onto you like his life depended on it. “Are you alright, darling?” You only responded that you were fine as your vision slowly ceased from distorting, the mass amount of gravestones around you steadily began to fix into place as you blinked your eyes heavily, trying to gain control of your sight again.

Calming down from your dizzy spell, Alastor sensed your apprehension as he watched your gaze pinpoint towards the position the sun took place in the sky. “Come now, darling, I’ll take you back.” He spoke with a hint of dejection you thought you had imagined before he began to hurriedly stuff the blanket he had previously lain out back into the basket along with the hardly eaten food he had prepared for you.

Pressing his hand against your bicep, he pulled you towards him; much to your displeasure with how much his touch continued to break your heart into pieces. Reluctantly, your grip held onto him lightly; without much presence. Calling out your name, Alastor’s smile twitched into almost a snarl as he felt your pathetic attempt of holding onto him. “If you don’t hold onto me properly, I will hoist you home.” Flushing at his choice of words, your thighs tensed despite how much your heart pained within the confines of your rib cage.

Perhaps if you weren’t feeling so broken from the newfound information, you might’ve tested him to see if he would do as he threatened.

Instead, you held onto his arm with purpose, with strength; your chest pressing up against his cubital fossa, and you swore you could hear his breath hitch as you did.

He probably didn’t like you pressing up so harshly against him.

Before he pulled you away from the graveyard, you both bid your farewells to his mother and her memorial grounds.

You wished you could have met her.

Would she like you?

It wasn’t as if it mattered anyway, Alastor’s heart clearly belonged to another; meaning you never would end up with him, even if your husband wasn’t in the way.

In an attempt to clear the thick tension that had suddenly formed between the two of you as Alastor guided you home, he spoke up. “Do tell,” His voice reverberated into your system; his tone low natural tone making you shake with embarrassment with how easy it affected you. “If you had to be one animal, what would you be?”

Since he had confessed catching feelings for another person, you looked at him for the first time; your heart breaking yet thumping with intimacy as he caught your gaze with his, staring at you with something you believed to be devotion. “What an odd question.” You mumbled before his smile widened into a toothed grin.

“I was wondering when you’d grace me with that lovely voice of yours again.” His teeth gleamed as he spoke, causing you to face away from him suddenly as his words made your face fill up with warmth; you couldn’t help but call him cruel within the depths of your cognition. How could he say such sweet things to you knowing he had no feelings toward you?

But, then again, you couldn’t help but hope that perhaps you were this person he had fallen for.

No.

It was best not to delude yourself.

Continuing to walk down the street, you ignored his charming compliment before you answered his question; an animal of prey slipping from your tongue ever so quietly as you felt his gaze piercing into you. “And you?”

Leaning his head to hover over yours as he contemplated with dramatics; his free hand grasping the sharpness of his jaw as he thought deeply. “I’d be the hunter that would tie you up in my home, taming you as my own, darling.” Almost coughing from the obscenity of his statement, you pressed your hand over your face as your eyes went wide before looking in the opposite direction that Alastor was in. It didn’t make sense to you as to why he kept finding it appropriate to say such words to you; especially when you were so certain his insinuation of falling in love eluded to a third party person that wasn’t you.

“That’s not an animal, Mr. Hartfelt.” You huffed as you avoided the words in your mind, attempting to debar the warmth that overwhelmed your body; the one that slightly made your vision blur again. “Do you speak to every dame like this? It’s rather inappropriate.” You didn’t know why you had let the sentence out of your mouth, but the desire to see if he would reveal anything about this potential being he harboured feelings for seemed to consume you.

Even if it would hurt you, you needed him to say something about it.

But before Alastors velvet-like voice could caress your auditory senses, you two began to hear a group of men shouting; and it wasn’t until you heard a specific nickname that you realised they were shouting toward you.

“Ey, doll!” Your form froze up despite the fact you continued to walk alongside Alastor; still grasping onto his arm as one of the men screamed that damned nickname at you; and despite it reminding you of your husband, it wasn’t him, yet the name itself had your hairs standing on the edge as if he was there, hiding among the group of men. Looking to your left, your attention, along with Alastors, were grasped by a particularly loud man that huddled in the group of other male specimens similar to his age. “One dollar for a check, five if you show them gams!” The men who stood beside him began laughing hysterically at the proposal for you to kiss him or allow him the luxury of gracing his sight with your legs as they continued to yell offensive and provocative words towards you; one even stating they would pay you for sexual relations.

Instinctively, you pressed yourself into Alastor as you looked away from them; ignoring their bantering catcalling that made you feel as unsafe as your husband did, but as soon as the anxiety of their words hit you, Alastor unlatched his arm from your arm, causing your panic to rise ever so slightly before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pushing you against him even closer than simply holding his arm allowed; pulling you away from their verbal profanities. Looking up at him as a wave of safety washed over you, you observed Alastor's non existent smile; instead, a viscous scowl embraced the beauty of his face, his upper lip snarling to the point of showing the gum above his canine teeth as his nose scrunched up in disgust, his furrowed gaze not once leaving the group of men until they finally left your sight.

“Are you alright?” Alastor halted the stroll as his expression slowly melted into a more neutral one that held a hint of tenderness to it. His hands both holding onto your shoulders as he massaged his thumbs into your shoulder, accidentally pressurising his hand against a fading bruise that forced you to hide the pain it enforced onto you. Nodding, you placed your own hand on top of his; the one that was pressed against a bruise, threading your fingers through his as a means to get him to stop. His form leaned down towards you, arching his back to place his forehead against yours. Staring into his gaze, his irises kept switching their focus between both of your eyes as his breath became heavy. “People like them deserve to die, don’t they darling?”

You didn’t believe you had heard him correctly at first; didn’t believe he had stated and asked you those words, but as you continued to delve into the depths of his slightly yellowed black eyes, you concluded that he did, in fact, ask you those words.

Yes. It was the first word that entered your mind. To inflict a sense of superiority onto someone who could not physically uphold themselves against them, it made you sick; it made the one who attacked a pathetic pig in your eyes, one who could not withhold themselves against someone of their own calibre. 

Just like your husband.

If those groups of men were that confident to do something so vile as to belittle your being in a publicised place, you were confident in yourself that they would do worse behind closed doors. They could hurt someone just as your husband hurt you.

You didn’t know why your heart pained at the thought of another woman being a victim of the abuse you were currently enduring.

Despite your thoughts, your answer came to Alastor almost instantly. “Yes, they do.” Your voice laced with credence, not a hint of hesitation; something that made Alastor’s smile sneak into an inhumane stretch that oddly had your heart thumping in adoration.

How could you find something so lovely; so attractive, when at its core, it was downright sinister and undoubtedly disturbing?

As Alastors pupils fixated on your lips, he looked downright starved. Like he was ready to kill; to consume. What, you didn’t know. With a closed toothed inhale, Alastor slowly pulled away from you, as if he was attempting to hold himself back from something.

What was wrong with him?

Latching his arm around your shoulder again, he returned the two of you in the walking positions you two had previously taken whilst continuing to accompany you home. You found it strange how quickly he was able to revert back to a neutral form after looking as if he wanted to rip something apart. Yet it didn’t scare you.

Instead, it made you feel strangely aroused.

Closing your eyes, you were certain you were going to hell for having such a reaction. It wasn’t long until you opened them again; visually intaking a street that was too familiar to you, and as Alastor continued to guide you, your house began to enter your line of sight. 

The pain of knowing your time today with Alastor was coming to an end doused you.

Despite everything, you didn’t want to let him go.

Perhaps you could just ask him; ask him who he harboured feelings for; maybe you could just end their life and pick up the pieces for Alastor.

Maybe then he would love you?

Internally shaking your head, you discarded the thoughts from your mind.

You weren’t that type of person.

Were you?

Biting your lower lip, the door to your house entered your vision, and in a panic, you faced the tall, brown haired man beside you, almost begging him to stay with you in your mind. “Would you like to come in?” You asked him, desperate to just be in his presence before you absolutely had to part from him for the day.

If this is how you were reacting now, how would you react when your husband finally took you away to New York?

Without acknowledging his awfully bright posture as you invited him inside, you attempted to open the door, only for Alastor to pick the keys from your fumbling hands to do it for you; opening the entryway and holding it in place to allow you passage through it before him. You could only thank the man who you had found yourself unfortunately falling for; imbedding you with something far more bitter instead of the sweetness you should’ve been basking in as you walked through the door. Closing the door behind you, you turned around, holding your gaze toward his unconventionally attractive facial structure as you contemplated your previous thought.

Should you tell him?

Tell Alastor that Vincent was going to take you away?

Away from him?

You missed how Alastor had locked the front door before his form slowly stalked toward you with purpose, his fingers brushing away stray strands of hair from your face as his other hand encased the entirety of your neck ever so gently.

What was he doing?

“Would you like to visit my home tomorrow?” He whispered into your ear as he continued to lean towards you, your hands grasping together as your heart thumped like a rabbit slamming its foot rapidly into the ground.

Pressing his body against yours, he forced your hands to rest against his hardened chest; an act that had Alastor sucking in a deep breath between closed teeth as he continued to intrude into your personal space.

“I don’t… This isn’t appropriate, Alastor.” You almost whispered as one of his hands began to etch towards your waist before he pressed your stomach into his pelvis, making you gasp in unease, confusion and lust. “I’m… Married; and you harbour feelings for another.” You accidently let your thoughts escape your lips.

Freezing up, Alastor looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as his eyes gazed into yours. Slowly, he began to laugh at you as if you had told him the funniest gag that had yet to grace his ears. Trying to pull yourself from his grip as his reaction put you in perturbation, his grip grew harsher, forcing you to stay still before his laughter halted almost immediately from your attempt of release. Looking down at you, the house seemed to cover his face in a darkness from the setting sun that only allowed you to see the edges of sharp features along with his almost glowing eyes and teeth; smiling at you with a complex mania. “Oh darling, it’s so adorably frustrating how oblivious you are.”

Pushing himself against you, he forced your back to collide against a wall; the sunsetting shadows still encasing his face as his lips ever so slightly brushed against the skin of your cheek, only to press them with urgency against the side of your face. Panting from the act, your heart almost exploded as your mind began to erase any previous thought that may have embedded a sense of doubt or pain onto your psyche. 

Sighing, Alastors lips left your cheek, only to hover ever so slightly above your own; as if waiting for you to reciprocate anything he was giving you, as if he was waiting for you to accept him, to give yourself to him. Breathing with vigour, you slowly etched towards him, and as your lips brushed against his, you heard the blaring sound of your husband's car parking in the driveway. 

Attempting to look towards the door in panic, Alastor gripped his fingers into the cheeks of your face, forcing you to look at him, and him alone. “Alastor, you need to leave, now.” You managed to beg as you tried to escape his grasp, anxiety creeping into your being as you dreaded the outcome of your husband if he were to catch you partaking in essential adultery. 

“Not until you fucking kiss me.” Alastor’s voice surprised you as it became as alarmingly unhinged as the look in eyes. Struggling against him, you wanted to kiss him. You did; but you were so scared. “Kiss me.” He begged before he echoed your name with an oddly loving, passionate anger. The door knob began to rattle, indicating your husband was unable to open it, you could hear Vincent's agitated voice as he yelled your name from outside; not once did he allow his tone to depict anger whilst he called for you, though.

As the door kept rattling, Alastor refused to let go of you; and as the realisation of the door being locked clicked in your mind, you proceeded without thinking; grabbing the sides of his face before smashing your lips against his. As your lips caressed each other, you could only moan from the overwhelming emotions that were bursting through your entire being. His lips tasted like the wooden aroma of the bayous, with slight hints of spiced goods blooming your tongue as you both opened your mouths; both desperate to consume each other, to be intimate with one another. Quickly, one of his large and strong hands reached toward your lower thigh, lifting it up to allow him room to press himself further into your body as his other hand gripped your jaw; his lower palm encasing your upper neck as his fingers pressed against the tip of your ears, caressing your skin with such passionate gentleness that had you moaning in his mouth.

Threading your hands into his hair, the kiss was unlike anything you had ever experienced before; and the addition of the emotions that exploded within you as you kissed him had you desiring more.

You didn’t know how long you both stayed there, consuming each other's essence until your husband's rattles against the door became more brutal, with him now pounding against it; calling for you with a slight agitation in his tone. In that moment, you were so thankful that there was only one key to the house; one your husband never took with him as you were always home; up until recently, that is. 

Pulling away from you, a slick of drool linked between your mouths, only splattering against Alastor’s chin before he leaned against you once more, giving you a more innocent and loving kiss on your lips before he finally let you go with reluctance. Your breath panting as you attempted to regain normalcy, and as you stared into the eyes of the man you had found yourself falling for, you couldn’t avoid how unfiltered his expression looked; how his gaze seemed to fill with pure enamorment that boarded on obsession.

Pressing your hand against Alastors, you guided him with haste towards a large window in your kitchen before you opened it for him; non verbally asking him to leave. And he did; jumping out of the window as if he was used to a form of athletics. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alastor.” You whispered, his large hands gripping onto your face before you could close the window on him; his lips pressing against yours once more before he bid you farewell, only to leave you watching as he jumped over the fence, his hand waving towards you as he finally left your sight.

Closing the window, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your whole body filling itself with thousands of tiny butterflies that fluttered within your innards, making your whole body shake in pure glee. Quickly, you shook your head as you attempted to compose yourself; you could think about this later.

You had to let your husband in.

Walking towards the door, you patted your dress down to release any creases that may have been formed, along with smoothing out your hair. 

Would he know?

Would Vincent know you had just cheated on him with the man he was planning on tearing you away from?

Twiddling your hands, you quickly unlocked the door as your husband stumbled in, anger doused on his face as he pushed you harshly to the side before slamming the door shut. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” He yelled, screaming your name as he grabbed your wrist. All the pleasant emotions you had only just been encumbered by suddenly shifted into dread as your husband dragged you into the parlour room. “What the fuck took you so long?!” His mouth spat at you, drops of his spit splattering on your face as he shouted his words.

Thinking quickly, you stuttered your words. “I was asleep, after I got up, I passed out!” You yelped in pain as he pushed you into the sofa. “I’m sorry-” You flinched as his hand began the animation of hitting you, your own hands covering your body as you tried to shield yourself from the beating he was going to enact onto you.

But it never came.

Opening your eyes ever so slowly as his hand never collided into you, you witnessed him kneeling on the floor before you, his fingers threaded through his disgusting hair. “All of this, it’s all that bastard's fault.” He mumbled to himself; the self talking became concerning. You had witnessed him do this pathetic act many times; an act that was meant to possess you to feel sorry for him, to allow him to manipulate your mind and plant seeds of doubt within. 

You wanted to be back with Alastor; you desired to be by his side, to have his lips on you again as you forgot about the reality of your situation, but Vincent’s annoyingly loud mumbling made it hard for you to concentrate. Rolling your eyes as he wasn’t looking at you, you sighed silently as you knew the only way to calm him down was by pretending that you cared, that you pitied him. Gritting your teeth, you pushed yourself onto the floor, wrapping your arms around your husband as a way to calm him down, and in turn, prevent him from potentially forcing himself on you.

It surprised you, but the thought of him touching you now after you had just kissed Alastor made you feel even more nauseated than ever. 

It oddly felt like you were cheating on Alastor; not the other way around.

“I’ll make you some food, alright?” You whispered with a softness, a contrast to the grimace on your face; an expression Vincent couldn’t witness as you held your head on top of his.

As you attempted to leave him, Vincent grasped your wrist, pulling you down to the floor before he climbed on top of you. Cringing internally, your mind began to panic, more erratically than usual. “Vincent, I’m… We can’t; I still keep passing out, there’s something wrong-” Pausing, to your surprise and delight, Vincent halted all movements, opting to stare into your anxiety filled eyes; as if he was trying to search for an answer within the depths of your mind.

“What happened last night, doll?” He whispered as he sat on top of your waist, staring down at you; the weight making you rather uncomfortable and causing difficulty for you to breathe. You had completely forgotten about last night; how you had attempted to murder your husband.

“I…” You whispered, unsure of what lie to lead with; but you knew this would be a good opportunity to make him feel like the vile thing he was. “I think… It had something to do with when you…” You suggested, indicating back to when he had knocked you out for the weekend, and as Vincent's mouth opened, no words entered your auditory as he rambled a spit of speech that didn’t compute in your mind as his mouth just wouldn’t cease its movements. The only thing you could hear were the voices that hid within your psyche that spouted comments of hate towards your husband; comments you very much agreed with. 

Everything began to blur as Vincent wouldn’t shut his trap; everything began to spin as the voices distorted in your mind before everything went black for just a mere moment. It took you a while, but as you blinked back into reality, you noticed Vincent wasn’t on top of you anymore. Confused, you looked around, trying to pinpoint where the man you hated was, but you couldn’t see him anywhere; only being able to depict the shadows of darkness that caressed your body. 

Attempting to stand up, your head began to spin again, so you opted to sit on the floor where Vincent had left you passed out; something that had long ago stopped surprising you. 

Giving yourself a moment to breathe, your thoughts becoming consumed with mental images of Alastor.

He harboured feelings for you; just as you did for him.

At least, that's what you had gathered from the kiss you two shared.

You couldn’t help but swoon at the thought; your heart beating erratically as you couldn’t wait to see him again as soon as the next day finally arrived; and arrive it did, quicker than you had anticipated. It shocked you that Vincent hardly bothered you, avoiding you at best before he left for work.

Perhaps he was scared from your consistent passing out and recent bizarre behaviour. 

After getting ready, you sat on the sofa in your parlour room, waiting ever so patiently for Alastor to show up.

By the time it turned midday, you began to worry.

By the time it turned into the late afternoon, you began to cry.

By the time Vincent came home, you felt broken.

Had he simply toyed with you? Messing with your emotions, breaking you even further than even your husband was capable of as Vincent did not attain the love in your heart like Alastor did.

As dried tears cascaded your face, you could only curse Alastor, with only one perception of him embedding into your mind.

Alastor did not care for you.

He simply toyed with you.

𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚎, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔.

𝚆𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍.

»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

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[lovingjingyuan]

Hey, it’s me again. I want request Sunday with Foxian reader this time, please.

Sunday met reader when he was still a child, and he promised that when he grow up, he will marry Foxian reader.

Reader being old lady, just chuckle and accept it. Thinking that he’s joking, which he doesn’t.

P/s: Foxian reader is 200 years old when she met child Sunday.

Sunday name is --- cause we don't his name. I'll update it if we find out

I wanna make Masterlist but I'm lazy

Sunday x Foxian Reader

𓆪♡𓆩 - Sunday 𓆪(´◡`)𓆩

After two centuries in life you have secured an office desk position in the Sky-Faring Commission. It was assumed to be an impressive standard as being 200 years old and earning a position in the commission wasn’t exactly easy. By most Xianzhou standards, you were still quite young for a position in a commission such as the Sky-Farring.

Yukong had announced that day that a class of elementary students from Penacony would be visiting the Luofu on a field trip to observe and explore the different types of planetary governments. With the recent surge of traffic and reckless driving, the workload has become too much of a pain, causing you to ditch the responsibility to tour guide these kids around.

“Miss?” a soft voice interrupted your train of thought, followed by a soft gentle touch on your tail. Turning around you spot a kid who's clearly not a Xianzhou local, hugging your soft tail and stroking it as if it were a pet. “I can’t find my sister.”

His eyes reflected with worry while explaining that he was separated from the group when he promised to retrieve his sister’s stuffed bunny. You knelt down to his level and looked at him in the eyes expressing a deep sense of worry.

“They’re with Madam Yukong… Do you know her by any chance?” You carefully brush your tail away from his hands seemingly disappointed as you do so.

“I heard of her only. Miss Foxian can you please help me find her?” The child pleading eyes tugged at your heartstrings. Those wings by his ears fluttered. How adorable! You only heard of Halovians but never in your two centuries of life have you seen one!

“Of course. What’s your name?” You questioned the child with a tenderful smile who could be no older than eight.

His eyes sparkled with the sweetest yet sheepish smile. He was not entirely comfortable around adults. “My name is —-,” he answered, his gaze lingering on top of your head with those soft fox ears and then towards your tail. Sunday could just imagine snuggling his small body against that cozy tail of yours! “Miss Foxian I’ve never seen your kind before if you don’t mind…” his voice trails off, his cheeks flustered, too embarrassed to finish his words.

You understood exactly what he meant! He wanted to pet you. You reassured him, “I’ve never seen a Halovian before. You are truly angelic and adorable!” You pinched his cheeks softly with a gleaming smile. You can if I get to touch those wings.”

His hands immediately lung forward towards your ears. His small soft hand wandered around your head and tail petting you down like a dog. “Foxian are truly gorgeous,” he remarked.

You couldn’t help but heave out a soft chuckle ruffling his head. Slowly, reaching your hands to his wings. You pitched them between your fingers. His gaze remains on you admiring your beauty. He knew right there you were his dream girl. Even if it might be a silly little childish crush you were too kind and gorgeous.

In the end you found out his elementary was on the whole other side of the Luofu. You couldn’t leave your station you had to remain here and work! You attempted to slove this by handing Sunday to the cloudknights so they can bring him back to the group. Yet whenever you bring Sunday towards them his small arms clung around your shoulders refusing to let you hand him over to them.

He would cry on your shoulders when you did. Maybe he was just shy as he claimed but truth to be told Sunday wanted to spend more time with you!

When he had to leave he was sobbing. It broke your warm big heart! His sister held Sunday’s hands trying to comfort him. It was a rare sight to see him cry according to his sister and classmate.

“Miss next time we meet! I promise we’ll get married!” Sunday delacred with a mix of sincerity and childish innocence. He wiped his tears before reluctantly getting escorted away by his teacher.

You chuckled at his pouting and whining being carried away by his teacher.

To you those words were nothing more than a childish promise. A broken promise that you will never remember. Would you even remember him? You know you could not defy the ethics of this universe. Long life species should never love a short life.

Many years later you've looked at your office desk. You managed to climb the rankings just slightly. A letter sitting innocently on your desk waiting to be opened.

An invitation from The Family? Surprised The Family will personally invite you. You thought they would invite someone like Fu Xuan or Jing Yuan but you? Was there a catch?

Nevertheless you gladly accept it because many with spend their savings to visit. You're visiting for free and you get a VIP room. Extra special VIP! And it was personally written by Representative Sunday. The man managing the festival! How nice. Do you even remember him? He felt like a distant memory.

You immediately step foot into Penacony from your private transportation provided from The Family. How generous The Family always treats their guests so well!

“Oh the important guest Mr. Sunday mentioned! It's an honor to meet an important guest of Mr. Sunday,” the receptionist charmed in with a gleeful smile.

You stood there confused. Did the Luofu Sky-Faring Commission have an important affairs you never knew of or an important meeting? You thought to yourself. You've only heard of Sunday and seen him in the news, yet you felt like you knew him before. Even if you did it be when he was a child.

“Someone will escort you right up ahead,” the receptionist spoke to you in such great manner.

Members from the Bloodhound escorted you with great caution. So much it intimidated you slightly. Suddenly they paused in their steps at a door. This was the hotel room? So different from the others.

You stepped inside once they told you to.

“Greetings Miss Foxian it's been a while,” a calm voice came in front of you. A man sitting on a chair leg crossed staring at the many TV screens flashing in front of him and you.

He stood up and turned facing towards you waiting for you to inch closer.

“Mr. Sunday? Is there something important we need to discuss?”

“No happy smile? Oh no this just can't do. You don't remember me don't you?” He stood towering over you. “Don't tell me you erased our special memories together. That promise.”

A frown replaced the calm smile. It was a custom for the Xianzhou to erase painful or parts of their memories to prevent Mara.

“Why those memories?” He whispered in your ears tenderly stroking your fluffy ears on your head. That touch felt familiar. He smiled again. Something about the smile was unsettling. “No worries The Family is experts when it comes to regaining lost memories.”

Memories came flashing in you. This was all confusing yet familiar. Too much you passed out. Sunday swiftly got hold of your body putting you in the dreamscape.

You opened your eyes. Your body felt weird almost like you were in a dream.

“How are you my little Fox?” He kissed your cheeks. He held you on his lap. His lips formed a smirk.

“See I kept my promise til the end,” his hands traced up your thighs keeping a firm grip on your waist.

He lifted you off his lap, setting you to sit on his fancy chair. He got on one knee eyeing you as he presented a ring in a white and golden box with a beautiful shiny diamond ring in the middle! The diamond ring has angel wings on it like his to show ownership towards you.

“Will you marry me my dear Fox?”

It was more of a demand than a question. Sunday wasn't the young boy you knew before. He always kept his words even if they were a childish dream. But he lived in a dream, the dreamscape so anything is possible.

He puts the cold ring on your ring finger, leaned in and kissed you lips. Sweet and short.

[mphountitled]

𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫

Summary: Visiting home brings up old feelings for the boy next door…

Myung Jaehyun x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Boy Next Door AU, Non-idol!AU, Language, Mutual pining, Hyperfeminine!Reader, Childhood friends to lovers, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), dry humping, slight ddlg themes, praise kink, dom/sub themes, Dom!Jaehyun, Needy!Jaehyun, Hyperfeminine!reader, Premature Orgasm, Loser!Jaehyun, Needy sex

The lack of actual boy next door fanfic for Boynextdoor is harrowing...

You did not hate your childhood. In fact, you would venture to say that you should look quite fondly of most of it because most of it had taken place here- in a picturesque wasteland of suburbia, and as you drive through the narrow main road, staring at glimpses of childhood relics, you begin to frown. Every memory was so unequivocally perfect except, maybe, for the ones containing him.

"Can you at least try to sound like you're not going kill yourself while you’re there?" Your best friend's voice drones on from the car speaker. Her words, no matter how valid, elicit an eye roll from you, effectively stopping your journey down memory lane. "It would be awful to have to drive down to your childhood home just because you tried to kill yourself, I refuse to have that be the way you introduce your college best friend to your mother."

"Relax," you affirm in a voice groggy from underuse. Spending an entire 15 hour drive beguiled to your car without any company except for maybe of course your Destiny's Child album and a swelling sea of dread in the pit of your stomach.

This would be the first time in a year that you were visiting your childhood home since you left for college. The first time anyone who mapped the outline of your childhood, would perceive you as the budding, blossoming, depressive adult you have become. You felt like a storm coming back into your picturesque childhood neighbourhood, threatening to sweep everything away. That feeling of dread only doubles when your driveway appears on the bottom of a hill. The cul-de-sac of your childhood with all its trimmed hedges, neat fencing and constantly perfect shudders, sends you hurtling into nostalgia and once again, common ordinary dread.

"What If I just turn the car around right now, would that be bad?"

"I have never met a college student so unhappy to be home-" Your best friend mumbles, "You're going to be living the dream!? Actual balanced meals!? Please take one for the team,"

Almost immediately, her words trigger a rumble of hunger from your stomach and you groan as your car curls into the cul-de-sac. Your heart is hammering in your ear, not for the reasons anyone might think, but because of those memories locked in your childhood. As you drive, you try to keep your eye on your house. Your perfect homely house.

Your eye doesn't even stray to the house beside it!

Honest to God!

Not even once.

"Is there a reason you don't wanna go home so bad?"

"The weather is so bad," you say almost automatically, "I think the line's about to cut,"

"Bitch, you only avoid my line of questioning like this when it's about some dick-"

"Jeez, the weather’s messing with the connection."

"If you drop this call TRUST you will be dealt w-"

"I'll call when I unpack, love you-" when you drop the call, your car is parked in the driveway and your shoulders are slumped over. You contemplate waiting around in the driveway until some relative forcibly pulls you out but that thought is quickly made obsolete when you hear a harsh knocking on the door. Your stress levels gravitate to an all time high as you watch him, waving frantically at you from the other side of the glass. His smile is bright and just as crooked as ever. His wave is frantic and energetic; Jaehyun is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, so unequivocally happy to reunite with his childhood best friend.

His only friend. The return of that voice in your head is one of things you had been anticipating on this trip. Mainly because your childhood had been riddled with so much self esteem issues, your feelings practically metamorphosed into that voice you now hear now. That's all you'll ever be to him. All you've ever been, Your mind remarks in a distasteful spit of venom.

"Get your face off of my windows unless cleaning my car for the foreseeable future is a job you're actually interested in." You say coolly as you slide out of the vehicle. Jaehyun gives space for you to stretch, all while shuffling from one foot to the next, picking at the sleeves of his flannel with a dopey smile like he was one second away from proudly telling you he 'frew up at school'.

"Still as homicidal as ever." He says your name with a familiarity that nearly knocks you unconscious. You focus on lifting your arms to the air, and ironing out tje various aches in your back.

"How long has your ass been waiting here anyway?" It's Jaehyun's turn to nearly evade eye contact at your question. He finds it exceedingly difficult to follow along with what you're saying when you so very clearly have boobs now.

"Since my mom told me you'll be back,” He says before immediately adding, “hey- how long have those been there?" You drop your arms with furrowed brows as you look at him.

"What?"

You await a response that doesn't arrive. Jaehyun only points nonchalantly towards your chest. You look down at your v-neck and back at Jaehyun. "I don't know what you're talking about," you roll your eyes as you shuffle past him.

"YOU HAVE BOOBS NOW?!” He exclaims, “EW-"

You turn around to face him, pushing your acrylic nail into his sternum, "I've always had tits- sh-shut up-"

"You literally finished high school without them. I would have noticed as the tiddy connoisseur, trust me."

You find yourself embarrassed, not by his avid teasing (this is something you've been forced to deal with every single day of your childhood and adolescence,) but you find your stomach warming for completely different reasons. Your Jaehyun-obsessed brain wants to pick apart and dissect his entire statement. Maybe he's finally noticing you now? Maybe this age-old crush will evaporate and metamorphose into something else.

You cannot speak because your nail is still digging intently at his sternum and he's staring down at you, as if waiting for whatever venom laced comeback you had waiting for him.

All you're able to focus on however, is the way in which you're staring intently at each other. For him, this proximity is probably nothing, but for you... "Also when you get in there, please for, the love of God, act surprised."

The spell is immediately broken and you're once again brought back down to earth.

The cul-de-sac.

The driveway.

The afternoon sun, surrounded by a cooling breeze.

"Please don't tell me I'm about to walk into another family dinner," your eyes grew heavy with fatigue at just the mere thought of all your family dinners before. 'Family' being used very loosely because he always somehow found himself in every single one.

"You know how our moms can get," you did. You really did.

"Ugh," you exclaim, trudging up the house steps, "1 hour of this and I'm done." Your hand pauses before the doorknob and you turn to Jaehyun with a bored, almost questioning stare. "Aren't you gonna get my things?"

His grins a wolfish grin before clutching at the t-shirt under his flannel, "Oh how I've missed being bossed around by you-"

"Fuck you-" You chuckle out. Jaehyun only turns his torso sloppily as he continues walking to your car.

"A guy could hope!"

And just like that, that smile is gone. The moment is sour. Because whatever he meant, you knew from childhood experience that it did not mean what you wanted it to.

-

Meeting everyone all at once had been as jarring as you expected it to be. You ceremoniously heeded Jaehyun's advice, acting so completely shocked when your relatives and Jaehyun's family yelled 'Surprise' in unison. Everyone was sporting smiles that crinkled their eyes and arms open for hugs. Before you were made privy to every line of questioning surrounding school, Jaehyun's mom swept you into her arms.

"How's is my daughter in law-" there was no time for her to watch you grow tense at her words because Jaehyun who was lugging your luggage in, calmly affirmed, "She has tits now, apparently-"

"MYUNG JAEHYUN-"

The evening had progressed with all the domesticity that you lacked during college and you found yourself at immense ease throughout dinner. Home is still home. Jaehyun is still Jaehyun. Everything that once was, still is and you took a second after dinner to ruminate in the feelings of comfort seeping into your entire being.

That is until your mother ruined it by inserting a very unnecessary, wholly uncalled for fact during dessert drudgery.

"Any boys on campus?"

"It's campus," you snorted as you stuffed your face with malva pudding, "of course there are boys," Throughout the course of your dinner, Jaehyun, who is dutifully seated directly beside you, has taken to swinging his leg against yours. A provocation from childhood that you almost immediately latch onto until you are both playing a violent game of footsies under the table.

"No boys to smooch on campus," Jaehyun speaks up, petulantly puckering his lips at you. All you're able to do is try and ignore him which proves to be a dangerous feat.

"I should think there's a new boy." Your mom says before pointing at you and Jaehyun with the flick of her utensils, "The primary school crush you two had on each other has gone on for way too-"

"MOM!?"

Your mother's slip of the tongue instantly grabs all of Jaehyun's attention. He's perking up in his seat like a rottweiler at attention with his head snapped in your direction.

"Crush?" His eyes falter, scanning the side of your face as if he was perceiving you anew. All traces of a smile are gone as he dumbly asks "What crush?"

"I've been driving for an insane amount of hours," you begin by pushing yourself out of your dining chair, "I should unpack and get to bed-"

"W-Wait I can help." You glare daggers at Jaehyun, that look alone should be enough to stop him from rising from his seat.

"Don't be rude. Your best friend hasn't seen you in ages" your mother scolds, lightly prompting your hands to curl at your sides, "We'll take care of the dishes."

-

Your ascension up the stairs had been charged with tension and filled with something else entirely. You walk ahead of Jaehyun as if trying to distract yourself from his presence, but everything about him is so completely there, "I can feel you staring at my ass," you mumble, needing to fill the air with something, anything at all as you reach the upstairs landing. "Guilty," he says as he follows you into your childhood room which is much the same.

Jaehyun beelines for your twin bed, almost immediately flinging himself on the childish quilted bedspread. "This place is still the same..."

"So are you actually going to be useful, because if not," you fold your arms as you stare him down, "You can leave?"

His mouth hangs open in a lopsided grin as he reaches around to grab at the very first plushie he finds. One of many.

"You still sleep with these?" He asks instead, as if your question meant nothing at all. He plays idly with the stuffed dinosaur in his hands as he leans his head back against the pillows. Seeing him here, amongst your things, brought an avalanche of nostalgia and a wave of hopelessness. He is still so attractive, even after all these years.

You sigh, "Jaehyun if you're not gonna-"

"So was that true?" There it is. The shotgun question that had been hanging like damp washing between the two of you. With your nerves shot to hell, you decide to lower your behind on the very edge of the twin bed as you busy your hands with folding your clothes. Your back is turned to him but you can feel those piercing, smiling eyes watching you.

"Is what true?"

"C'mon, don't do that,'' there is a noise of shuffling behind you. Your heart hammers in its cage with the dip in the bed sheets and you can feel him seated directly behind you. You look down at your lap to find that he's placed your plushie there, as if to distract you from the fact that his legs were now framing yours, his front pressed against your back.

"You know what," he whispers straight into your ear, sounding as serious as you've ever heard him.

Craning your neck backwards to let your eyes fall on Jaehyun would prove to be a cataclysmic mistake. It only heightens the wobble in your voice as you say, "The crush I had on you was juvenile and childish and frankly didn't mean any-"

"Dude..." he whispers, eyes seemingly boring into every single square inch of your face, "I've dreamt about being your boyfriend since I fucking found out what a boyfriend is." His words knock the breath cleanly out of your lungs and your voice grows quiet as he lifts his hand to the side of your face. "What..."

"Yeah!"

His voice is loud and boisterous but you're still somehow locked tightly in your stupor.

"Nu uh," you mumble, your eyes daringly drifting across his lips, "You're lying?"

"How am I lying, angel?" you suck in a deep breath because his thumb is rubbing dizzying circles against your cheek now and his voice has descended a gravelly octave. He dips his head down, experimentally placing a feathlight kiss on the corner of your bottom lip. So innocent, but charged with so many expletives, the possibilities rush straight to your clit.

Still, you soldier on.

"B-Because remember what you said at our grade 6 dance?"

He's not listening. He's not listening because he's finally got a taste of you and he'd be damned if he didnt get more. Jaehyun cranes your neck until you're facing forward once more and you gasp when his lips descend on the skin between your neck and shoulder. "Enlighten me," he mumbles against your skin, placing more featherlight kisses there before he quickly grows bored and decides to stick out his tongue experimentally. You turn into molten clay in his hands and the whimper that escapes you is borderline pornagraphic. This is the stuff all Jaehyun's previous fantasies are made of.

"W-When you asked me out- you said..." your voice drifts off because Jaehyun can't help but let his right hand reach around until he squeezes your torso impossibly closer. All the pudge, all the skin, all the ways he's been dreaming about having you this close and you were there for the taking this whole time.

"Fuck, I'm obsessed with you…" He says, and he does a very odd thing. He buries his face in your neck and just sniffs. This momentary slip of weakness allows you to regain some of your senses as you say,

"Y-You asked me to be your date," Jaehyun is drunk on the very scent of you now and his cock throbs as he brings you impossibly closer against his lap,

"What else did I say, baby," he wants you to carry on talking. Anything that might distract you from wanting him to leave. Anything that might keep you here just a little longer. His cock throbs at that thought alone and it has him rubbing against your skin like a dog in heat.

"Y-You said you didn't have anyone else to go with-" you suck in a deep breath through your air as Jaehyun's hand venture underneath your shirt. He slithers his hand up in a hurry until his cool fingertips are grazing the flesh of your breasts. Like a crazed adolescent driven by his hormones alone, he pulls your bra down, all while tonguing and licking at your neck like his life depended on it.

"S'sorry," he mumbles incoherently behind you, and his hand on the side of your face cranes your head backwards so that you're facing him once more, "So'so'sorry," he places a sloppy, apologetic kiss on your mouth which immediately triggers a very deep desire that is almost as old as you are.

"I wanted you so bad-" you admit with a gasp, and Jaehyun feels your confession shoot straight down his spine. He plasters his front into your backside, pressing his hips against your ass in an apparent wave of lust.

"I've always needed you," he ventures to admit, pressing his bulge against your backside as if needing to persuade you further.

Those words of affirmation are all you need , all you've needed for a lifetime and you immediately turn until you're lumbering onto him before letting your knees frame his hips. His hands instinctively grip onto, your supple, full hips and the feeling of your softness on top of him alone is enough to have him groaning into the air as his hips stutter up at you.

While you crash your lips against his once more you lift yourself away but his hips follow, "The fuck are you doing!?" He mumbles against your lips before biting lightly at your bottom lip.

"Too heavy," you mumble, "I don't wanna be too hea-"

Your words dissolve in your throat and in its place, a yelp escapes as Jaehyun forcibly pulls you down onto his sweatpants-clad lap. "You did this to me," he says, watching you intently as if scolding you, "You did this to me and now you wanna run away?" He scoffs as his hands begins to guide your hips against his. You're both in very flimsy material. Him in his sweatpants and you in similar attire except your sweatpants were a dusky pink. "Youre so pretty grinding on me like that fuck-" he speaks quickly and fluidly as he leans backward onto your bed, making more space to watch you grind yourself on top of him.

His attention is utterly intoxicating and so you do nothing but listen when he says, "Take your top off, baby-"

You peel the item of clothing off, unclipping your bra with all the speed and sloppiness that came with your lust-filled fog/ Jaehyun doesn't help. He's all too focused on guiding your hips against his, watching you face contort into pleasure.

"Pants," he says, needing to see more of your open-mouthed moans, "Take your pants off," he whispers, "Make a mess on me," he swallows thickly, "Please,"

You lift yourself to momentarily push your sweatpants, Jaehyun lifts himself momentarily to grab at your stuffed animal.

"Whatre you-" When you straddle him again, you're completely naked while he's fully clothed. The juxtaposition only elicits another wave of lust. "Hold this while you ride me," he stuffs your plushie against your chest, watching your mouth hang open as you lower your clit onto his bulge,

"O-Oh my fuck, Jaehyun-"

"Just like that, angel, fuck,' he throws his head back momentsrily stumped by the weight of his pleasure. He's trying to be dominant for you. He's trying to keep his control for you, but you're moving your hips against his, with his bulge between your legs, using him for absolute filth. It ruins him entirely.

His voice cracks when he lifts his head to look up at you and say, "Oh my god, you feel so fucking good, oh my god," When Jaehyun curses, your cunt only presses down harder against him, prompting a needier response out of you.

Jaehyun swallows thickly, "Use me, baby," he says, "F-Fuck, just fucking use me," his hips stutter upwards and his hands on your sides grip you so tightly you know it'll leave marks. "Doing s-so well for me. Youre doing so fucking well-"

He watches with an open mouth at your tits, so pillowy and full, bouncing as you rub yourself against him and he completely loses it.

"Fuck- p-please cum, I need to cum so bad-" Jaehyun gasps, wracking another torrid moan out of you as you descend almost immediately into your orgasm. Jaehyun watches with an open mouth and half lidded eyes, unable to stop himself from fucking up into you. He wraps his arm against your waist and buries his face in your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair and he shivers

"No way you just made me cum in my pants," he is so incredibly overcome with embarrassment, he dreads having to look up at you.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"No, Jaehyun, its-"

"I mean about not being honest sooner. That was bad of me, he mumbles into your chest and you chuckle at his petulance, "I'm sorry,"

"Apology accepted for making me wait so long..."

[revehae]

maneater (r. fantasies)

warning: noncon, semi-public sex, jisung × (f) reader x jaemin

wc. 1.3k

love that i wrote this for @neocentral and she’s also the only reason i was able to recover this 🫶🏽 EVERYONE SAY WE LOVE YOU BELLE

maybe it was jisung's fault, the unfortunate outcome of his generous naivete. foolishly, he had mistaken your kindness for infatuation, your exuberant flashes of teeth when you glanced his way as flirtatious gestures of mutual affection.

jisung wouldn't consider himself a loser. he had a couple of friends. sure, he wasn't the most popular guy around, especially not with girls, but that didn't make him a loser. there was no reason to doubt his chances with one of the campus' most popular students, especially not when you made it so easy to like you.

too easy, jisung would think, clenching his pale, whitened knuckles into stiff fists when he saw other guys talking to you, checking you out from head to toe like you were a fresh slab of meat on display.

deep down inside, even if he refused to admit it to himself, jisung couldn't fault them like he wanted. your wit was admirable and your beauty rivaled that of goddesses. to say nothing of the fact that you were so amicable and approachable, maybe too approachable.

idiotically believing under the trance of your bewitching stare and enthralling smile that you reciprocated jisung's less than platonic feelings for you was his first mistake.

mustering the courage to approach you and ask you out was his second.

at the very least, you were sweet enough to let jisung down gently. even as you ripped his thudding heart out his chest and shredded it with bared teeth, unraveling the thread upon which his very world spun, your lips were fixed in a perfect smile as you apologetically told him that you didn't feel the same way, tenderly brushing your hand against his.

how kind of you to shatter his heart in the most beautiful way possible. you had to have done this a dozen times before, maybe even twice as much, so accustomed to rejecting every male's advance that you knew all the right words to say.

"you'll forget you ever felt this way," you'd told him at one point, most of your other words becoming white noise to his ears as indignation poked holes into his chest and swallowed him whole.

jisung liked to think that he handled the rejection fairly. outwardly, at least, it was true. you wouldn't have guessed from looking at him that the world as he knew it had been upturned and rage was festering in side of him quickly and brutally. he should've listened to his friends when they told him, dude, she's a maneater.

to think only days ago jisung thought so highly of you. now, whenever he saw you, only the most degrading of words came to mind. what a picky, arrogant whore, hissed his thoughts bitterly.

you must've thought you were so much better than him. you must've got a good laugh at his expense, leading him on and making him believe even for a minute that you liked him the way he liked you. or maybe you were just playing hard to get, so entitled that you thought he would chase you.

wrong. jisung was not like those other guys that would come begging at your feet and he refused to lower himself to such degradation, solely so that you could feel better about yourself.

it had to only have been a couple of weeks forward, jisung's anger intensifying by the day, when he heard those godawful noises coming from just around the corner.

he recognized that voice - your voice. jisung would never admit that he was obsessed with you, but there was no doubt in his mind that the high-pitched, agonized cry he heard came from between those glossy lips of yours.

naturally, it was jisung's first instinct to investigate, to wonder what was so terrible that you were shrieking so sharply. he became especially curious when the sound was cut off, suspicious sudden and abrupt, as if it had been muffled.

jisung tiptoed around the corner, quiet as to not disturb the scene unfolding just shy of him. although, given how busy the city was, bustling with everyday life, it would've been more difficult to hear him approaching.

jisung nearly gasped at what he saw, poking his head around the sturdy brick wall and spotting your frame caged behind jaemin's as your back was pinned harshly against a cold wall.

"shh, sweetheart." jaemin crooned, tone of voice cheating his violent hands. "wouldn't want anyone else to see you like this, now would you? imagine how hard it would be for you to have a good future if all anybody saw when they looked at you was this loose little pussy."

jisung wanted to say that that was already what people saw, but he held his tongue. he didn't want to risk making his presence known. one slightly wrong move, one bad step, and both of you would know that he was watching, lurking discreetly in the shadows. 

shameless, jisung whispered in his brain, shaking his head as he kept his eyes locked on the incident in front of him. jaemin was forcing himself onto you in broad daylight, for fuck's sake. without a care in the world if anyone saw him.

even as people walked only mere feet away from the sight, burdened with the tasks of their own problems. people that wouldn't randomly think to check around an alleyway to see if there was a girl attempting to fight off her attacker.

your face was familiar, but hardly recognizable all at once. your usual heart-stopping smile was surely upturned into a piteous frown, though it was obscured from jisung's vision as jaemin smothered your screams with his palm. moisture stung your eyes, gathering at your lashes and dripping thickly down your tear-stained cheeks.

even with jaemin's palm pressed flat against your mouth, your whimpers still faintly traveled through the hot, stuffy air. you thrashed in his burly arms, struggling to wrest your way out, but jaemin kept you in place with his spare arm.

part of jisung was bristling with pain and seething with white-hot anger watching another guy touch in ways only he should've been able to, but he couldn't move and he definitely couldn't look away. your stiff nipples were exposed from where jaemin had yanked your shirt down, jisung arriving only moments to see how jaemin sucked at licked at the tender buds.

"i don't take no for an answer," jaemin whispered, stuffing you full of his thick, veiny cock. your pussy was sore from how vigorously he was using you, but nothing would stop jaemin from doing as he pleased if he wanted it enough.

jisung's cock twitched in his light sweatpants. he only wished he could've felt the way your cunt squeezed his cock for dear life, milking it for every last drop of cum like it did jaemin's. if only he would've had the courage to slam you against a wall and take what he wanted, show you who was in charge.

it kept him up sometimes fantasizing about how tight and wet you were as he fisted his own cock to ecstasy. the sight of jaemin abusing your poor little cunt was infuriating, but erotic. not taking out his cock and pumping in his hand took all of jisung's willpower. 

watching how wide your gorgeous, fretful eyes were, how your chest heaved quicker and quicker, skipping breaths to get to the one that came after, jisung almost felt bad for you. he liked to think he would've been much more tender, had he gotten the opportunity, setting the mood and taking his time to please you.

until you broke his heart. now, whatever happened to you was out of his hands and jisung couldn't have cared less, ignoring the panic in your body language and obvious pain tensing your features.

jisung had the power to stop his friend if he really wanted, to intervene and save you from your troubles, and he most likely would've, had you not wounded him. but he remembered the gash still fresh on him, your smiles rubbing salt in the cut, and decided this was what you deserved. you'd get over it.

yeah, she'll forget she ever felt this way, jisung mimicked resentfully, those words burned onto his heart harshly. so in the end, against jisung's better judgment, he kept on walking.

[wesawbears]

Sunshine Court broke something in my brain, so here's some protective Jean because my boy is not gonna tolerate whatever is going on with Jeremy's family.

Tagging @bienmoreau @faintlyglow and @betterbekind

--

Jeremy's hands shake as he's getting ready for dinner with his family.

Jean doesn't mean to notice, perched as he is on the bed, watching the other man straightening his shirt in front of the dresser. Jeremy's very good at hiding it, with his easy smiles and easier deflections. By now, he knows it's an open secret that Jeremy avoids his family as best he can, and that Cat and Laila allow him his choice.

But Jean has spent his whole life reading into the slant of someone's posture to survive, and he knows the tremor in Jeremy's hands as if it was his own.

“You're afraid,” he says, the words arriving unbidden. But it's such a shock to see him like this– the man who stood in front of Jean at the darkest points of his life and refused to look away, cowed by the people who were supposed to love him. 

This was Jean's friend, his partner, and he was feeling unsafe.

Jeremy jumps at the sound, either lost in his own thoughts or used to the quietness of Jean for the last few minutes. “What?”

Jean weighs what he wants to say. He knows he's had his fair share of truths he's asked to keep to himself, and that Jeremy has never pushed when it mattered. But he also thinks about “for now”, and how hard truths can only be avoided for so long. “Is it your parents?”

Jeremy's eyes widen, a nervous fidget in the set of his hands. If he wants to lie, Jean's already decided to allow it. But Jeremy finally says a quiet, “Yes and no.”

Jean nods. “Do they- are you safe?” He doesn't think he's seen bruises, and he remembers the horror in Jeremy's voice as he told Jean that his parents should have protected him. But maybe he was projecting?

Jeremy's shoulders deflate. “Jean, no. It's nothing like that. I promise, they've never laid a hand on me.” He smiles, a crooked thing that has Jean following the curve of his lips. 

Still, Jean knows the way he's curled into himself, the way he's glancing at his phone as though it's about to jump at him. “But it's something.”

“It's just dinner. I can handle it. I know how to play the game and get out of there.” It's a perfectly neutral answer, but it's also more than he's said in months about what waits for him when he disappears to his family's home. Despite his living there most of the year, Jean refuses to call it Jeremy's home. His home is here, cleaning up with Laila and arguing with Cat, and where Jean can see him when his nightmares rattle him awake to count the rise and fall of Jeremy's breath from the next bed over.

“Do you want company?” It's a strange request, and Jean knows it as he says it. Jean still hates being around people, and speaking to a bunch of strangers even Jeremy is nervous around makes his stomach swim. But this is his partner, and if he needs him, he can be there for him. It is only fair.

Jeremy's face becomes unbearably gentle and Jean isn't ready to read into the fondness he sees there. “I will be okay. Like I said, I know how to do this.”

One part of Jean knows he should leave it at that. But the other part has cataloged the heaviness in Jeremy's countenance when he returns home– the rehearsed smile, the way he goes to bed early. The part that wins says, “I will walk home with you. When dinner is over.”

“You don't have to do that-”

“I want to,” he says, and he finds that he means it. The idea of Jeremy walking home by himself after spending an hour alone in a room of people is too much to bear. “Text me the address and I will be there.” He wanted to visit the grocery store anyway– he could do that while he waited. Cat would be happy to see the spice cabinet restocked.

“Alright,” Jeremy says, swallowing whatever protest sat on his lips. “Yeah, I'll- I'll text you.”

Jean nods, letting the matter drop while Jeremy finishes getting ready in amicable silence. When he leaves, it's with a nod that Jean recognizes, of someone who is resigning themselves to the inevitable. 

He doesn't know how to keep him from hurting, but he is at least well versed in the aftermath.

–

Jean arrives at the intended address at the appointed time, not wanting to be there too early and seem suspicious. Jeremy is not forthcoming about his familial circumstances, but he knows there is money involved, and in Jean's experience, outsiders were not tolerated. 

True to his word, Jeremy emerges after only a minute or two and his face lights up in a way that makes Jean's stomach twist when he spots him. He hurries toward Jean, and immediately begins walking once they reach each other.

It's easy to keep pace with him, but as Jeremy is about to breach the silence, a voice behind them brings him up short. 

“I thought you knew better than to bring people like that to the house?”

Jean bristles at the implication, but he's more concerned with the way Jeremy stills at his side. When Jeremy doesn't reply, Jean tries to ignore it as well and continue forward, but the voice continues.

“Flaunting it in front of us like you don't even care what you did to the family? You deserve whatever happens, you-”

“You will not speak to him that way.”

Jeremy draws back in surprise, but Jean keeps his expression cool as he turns to face Jeremy's brother.

“What did you say to me?”

Jean glances at Jeremy, sure he's crossing a line but unable to stop himself. “I said, you will not speak to him like that.”

A snort. “He's my brother. I can say whatever I like. Besides, how exactly are you going to stop me?”

“Jean,” Jeremy's voice is small beside him and Jean does not rise to the bait. 

He fixes the unfamiliar man with a cool glance. “Nothing. I know a great deal of small men exactly like you, and they always seem to get what they deserve in the end. I do not need to do anything to stop you. But no one has to listen to you either.”

With one last flat look, he walks, Jeremy matching his purposeful strides. As the silence grew longer between them, Jean wonders if he read this wrong, if Jeremy had not wanted him to say anything. Had he crossed a line? Had he made Jeremy feel unsafe?

“Thank you.”

Jean turns to look at him in surprise. “I did not mean to force you to face them before you were ready-”

“I'm not ready,” Jeremy admits. “And yeah, things will probably be pretty tense next time.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But- it means something to me that you were there. I– it made it easier, knowing you were there.”

Jean nods slowly, not trusting himself to be able to say anything. He had said it not because of anything owed between them, but because he could not bear to see Jeremy's light dimmed by those who were supposed to cherish him.

At last, he finds his voice to say, “I will not let you leave me behind.”

The smile Jeremy sends is a little tired, but it's also slow and soft and the first real one he's seen all night, so Jean counts it as a win.

Rainbows. Open roads. Friends. Jeremy's smile.

[dairy-farmer]

Saw some NICE Reverse Robins Art? And just? Eldest Blood Son Damian Wayne? All the gorgeous of BOTH his parents? A man who never felt his position threatened by these younger children? But still had that oldest sibling "they're talking my Father's love and attention AWAY from me" drama? Grew up. Lost his Tim.

Was BETRAYED by his maternal family, when they brought Tim BACK, mad from the pits, and never told him. The whole alt-timeline. Edgy Red Hood Tim. Red Bird Jason. Robin Dick.

But!

Multiverse shenanigans? Who is THIS?! It's a Cannon-adjacent Tim! He's HEROICALLY sacrificed himself by tackling the megalomaniac of the decade, into the Multiverse Destroying Portal BEFORE it could fully charge! While he, said maniac, held the control panel. Thereby shutting it down.

There had been no other way.

He had expected to be ripped to molecules.

But here he is, on the sort of Shitty Roofing that can only be Gotham infrastructure. So? No time to tremble in the face of near oblivion. Gotta beat this fuckers ass so hard his ANCESTORS rethink their life choices. Tim drags himself up. And makes Gotham proud.

Which is how Darkwing (Damian's edgy self chosen name he's now stuck with until his Father retires.) Finds him. Half dead and beating up a clear Supervillian, wearing Bat gear. Good enough for Damian. He'll get answers AFTER the scoundrel in imprisoned.

Only Tim passes the fuck out.

Wakes up, in the cave, to his own? But slightly different? Face. Two things jump out. One, that God awful skunk strip Jason was permanently stuck with after the pits (that he refuses to admit, is kinda sexy). And Two, either this Tim started Testosterone WAY earlier, somehow managed to keep to all his scheduled shots dispite Superhero Craziness, OR... this lucky bastard is Cis Gendered.

Unless maybe not?

Hey, Me, pronouns. (He/Him.) Nevermind! Bastard it is! Fuck you! Why do YOU get all the luck? I have to take shots! (I DIED.) OH, boo hoo, WE'VE ALL DIED! Ya'aint special! *Tim on Tim verbal violence intensifies*

No one can tell if... they are? Bonding? Or hate each other. Someone should stop them. Unfortunately, it has to be Bruce. Which is how they learn: No, actually, he DOESN'T know what universe he's from. It's never come up before and they don't have the technology. He expected to die.

It was a one way trip.

Now they have a New/Extra Tim. There are Tim Twins. One is An Angry Bad Boy. And the other? Strangely sexy. The competence kinks are developing by the minute.

Worse, for Damian? This Tim seems... almost? Baffled? By his politeness? Seems to expect violence and aggression? And become utterly FACINATED by him, once he realizes its not coming. Damian has never been the center of someone's attention like this. Had someone hang off his every word like this. It's breeding... Thoughts he shouldn't be having.

And RR!Tim is getting jealous. That's HIM. He should be interested in HIM. THEIR shared lives. Not Mr "ooooh look at meee, the Perfect Soooon". Other Tim should be... be like his TWIN. His BROTHER. HIS other half. His!

Bruce? Hates that he sees what could have been, in this Tim. Calm and collected. Not raging and destructive. A good Detective. A perfect Robin. Dedicated to The Mission. Not the unhealing, raging, wounded animal his son has become. He wants to protect this Tim. Hold him close. Cherish him. But he also loves HIS Tim. He feels so greedy.

And Jason? It's like the Red Bird he looked up to is BACK. Not the raging monster that swings between hating him and ignoring him. Even better! This Tim looks at HIM like he's some sort of miracle! So he plays up the spunky, the cute. Crawls into his lap and chats. Gets to hang out. Be the center of his world. He... he's in LOVE. Already formulating a long term plan. Gonna marry this Tim and have a house and kids and a dog! It'll be perfect.

Baby Dick? Robin? Was EXHAUSTED trying to hold everything together. Trying to pretend he didn't notice the tensions. Play the performance of "cute baby brother" to distract and defuse. Then this Timmy came! And FIXED everything. Took Dicks job like he'd been doing it for YEARS. Smiled so pretty and perfect. Told him he didn't have to pretend.

Like he KNEW Dick. Better then anyone else.

So maybe Dick goes... a little crazy. Follows him. Smells his stuff. Wants to crawl into his bed and DO things. But! He's not the only one! Everyone is going crazy! Timmy does that to people, he's decided. But it's okay. They're TIM'S people. So it's okay if they go crazy for him.

And really? It's just a matter of who's control breaks first. Because Tim adores them but doesn't think they'd be interested. Tim is situationally dense as bricks. They love him anyway.

-🐼🐼🐼

all of them intent on this tim not realizing the tim of their universe will never let them get dibs 😩

[thoughtless-muse]

fuck friends to lovers. hell, fuck enemies to lovers. fuck enemies to friends to lovers.

don’t get me wrong; they’re all amazing tropes and I’d read them any day of the week.

but you know what really gets me going?

cum-buddies to lovers.

fuck-buddies to lovers.

convenient mutual release to something much deeper.

like, there’s an undeniable attraction that they feel towards one another. something purely physical. they meet each other and immediately start sizing the other up in an attempt to speculate just how good they’d be in the sack. the tension simply builds the more they stare/imagine/talk/spend time together.

extra kudos if they find the other kind of intolerable/annoying, or have a myriad of pet peeves about the other.

because then they’re consistently telling themselves that the only thing that’s good about the other, the only reason they even hang around, is their body; their ability to please, and their ability to be an outlet for frustration. no matter how much the other annoys the piss out of them, or how much they can’t stand them, they’ll still seek out each others bodies because they’re the best damn lay they’ve ever had.

and it’s all just sex. just physical release —

until they find that, over time, all those annoying little things about the other seem to become just a little less annoying, bit by bit.

they find that they look for the other even when they aren’t horny or sexually pent up.

their conversations start to grow longer and more personal; hell, sometimes they simply talk just to talk. make each other laugh. hear the other’s opinions on certain things.

opinions that, weeks ago, they wouldn’t give two shits about.

they start caring, feeling two thirds protective and a quarter possessive of the other. always watching, always scoping, always trying to identify any threats to the other (or to the relationship they have with them).

the sex slowly morphs from a simple physical need to a connection — no more quickies or hard, fast strokes, no more hittin’ it from the back in any dark place they can find with eyes unconnected, completely emotionally distant from one another.

no, now it’s slower. hands exploring the other because they genuinely want to feel them, not because it simply makes the sex better. they’ll use their palms and fingers to map out and memorize every single contour of the other’s body, because when the moments over, they still want to feel the shape of the other against their skin.

they find that it’s far more comfortable to face one another now, far more stimulating to watch the other’s face contort with the pleasure they’re feeling. they find that they enjoy it, that the sight makes them feel absolutely breathless.

makes them feel stupid.

because how the hell had they never noticed the other was so ethereal?

they know each other’s bodies, quite literally inside and out, but now… now they crave more. they want to know the other’s soul, they want to know what makes them tick, they want to know them on all intimacy levels, and not just sexual.

again, extra kudos if when the whole thing started, they vehemently refused to kiss each other. too intimate for just sex.

and now, they find that they’re really, really curious about what the other tastes like, what their tongue feels like, overcome with the thought of ‘what will I feel if our lips meet?’

and eventually, when they simply can’t hold it back, they finally kiss, and everything just suddenly makes sense.

theyre desperate now, lungs turned breathless from the insistence that they keep their lips locked, pushing back against the other and willing them to feel everything through their embrace.

all the things they can’t seem to put into words.

the things they’re scared to put into words.

it’s deep, it’s strong, it’s overwhelming, crashing through them with the strength of the ocean breaking open a dam; a dam that they thought would never, ever even crack.

and certainly not for this person.

and if one (or both) start crying from the sheer emotion they feel for the other — omfg I can’t take it.

because sex hardly ever comes with no strings attached, and the journey traveled to discover that ugly truth is one that’s bumpy, winding, and not easy to endeavor.

fuck-buddies to lovers is the one trope, in my opinion, that is filled to the brim with everything that we love in fanfiction; smut, angst, fluff, miscommunication, hurt, comfort, jealousy, tears… and so much more.

thank you for coming to my ted talk <3

[sourlove]

YANDERE KING 👑 (GN READER)

TW: OBSESSION, YANDERE THEMES, INSANITY

a/n: thanks for all the notes everyone! i'll try to write and post more!

Yandere! King who was a good and benevolent ruler and loved by all who encountered him. From his good looks, to his amazing battle prowess, to his diplomatic skills, there was nothing he lacked or wanted for. Instead of squandering the kingdom's resources like his predecessors, he expanded the kingdom and improved the lives of his people.

Yandere! King who journeyed up the Black Mountain by himself to slay the dragon that had been tormenting the kingdom for years! Unfortunately, that came with a severe consequence.

Yandere! King who was cursed with the dragon's dying breath to never know peace until he learns to love. No one knew about that last part but the King and the dragon. They wouldn't understand it. Only an ancient and wise being would be able to look into the noble King and see a cold, empty heart.

Yandere! King who was tormented by whispers and screams only he could hear, corners haunted with bloodied corpses only he could see and nightmares that left him screaming and clawing at his own body.

Yandere! King who was tormented more by the fact that as the curse ate away more and more at his sanity, the chances of him learning to love (what a cruel word that had become) became slimmer and slimmer.

Yandere! King who didn't believe in love. He had married a princess and sired children with her simply because he had to. That's what kings did. She was a good choice: docile, pretty enough to fuck, and smart enough to know when to keep her mouth shut. But the curse had made being around anyone, especially her and her brats, unbearable. Love? What a foolish notion. He would rather die a mad man than let himself be swayed by something so flimsy, so weak.

Yandere! King who wished in the dead of night for something or someone to save him. He didn't want to live like this. He didn't want to die like this. Disembodied voices chased sleep away and the once proud King wept in misery.

Yandere! King who stumbled into you by chance. It was a regular day for you as you went about your business, travelling on the road to sell herbs and potions when you were knocked down by the kings carriage as he passed by. You kicked up a fight with the guards, lashing out at their brusque handling and one of them made a crude comment about you. In your blind rage, you fished a potion from your satchel and threw it.

Yandere! King who came out to see what the commotion was and was suddenly struck with a dark, viscous liquid that clouded his vision and made him stumble back. You were immediately forced to your knees as you stared at the King himself wiped your potion from his face. Your life was definitely over now, you thought miserably.

Yandere! King who finally turned to see his attacker and halted to a stop once your eyes connected.

Yandere! King who looked around frantically, checking and listening for anything, anything, while everyone else watched him with confusion and worry. Had the King finally succumbed to his curse? Or had you worsened it?

Yandere! King who turned to you, shaking and whispered ,"You've cured me. Y-you- the voices- the voices are gone...they're all gone!" He refused to let you leave. He snarled at his guards to release you and begged you to enter his carriage and go to the palace with him.

Yandere! King who announced that his savior had lifted his curse. The people cheered as he dragged escorted you to stand next to him, where his queen should have stood, and kissed you on both cheeks. "From now on, I will dedicate my life to repaying my debt to you."

Yandere! King who threw a feast in celebration and forced you to dance with him all night. He praised your talents and beauty to all who would listen, never giving you the opportunity to slip away from his iron grasp.

Yandere! King who pleaded with you to stay. When you adamantly refused, he stopped pleading and ordered you as your King.

Yandere! King who soon realized that the curse slowly creeped back to him after he was gone from your presence for a few minutes. Instead of filling him with sorrow, the King could only smile widely. Now you had to be with him, to sleep next to him, to stay with him, to love him, until you drew your last breath.

Yandere! King who appointed you as his new concubine. The queen was outraged but he paid her no mind. She was lucky he didn't divorce her, for political reasons, and her opinion never mattered to begin with.

Yandere! King who would burn down the entire kingdom to hunt you down if you escaped from him. So be good and don't kick up a fuss, alright? All you have to do is be a good pet and stay next to him, living luxuriously with the world at your feet.

You're his savior after all.

[freensrcha]

Although I'm shy and never express my feelings, I'm not shy about my feelings for you.

I TOLD SUNSET ABOUT YOU | EPISODE 5

[hel7l7]

Are you anti self-dx entirely?

To be honest... I don't know. There's so much nuance to make on the entire subject...

And everything I say about this feels wrong. I just hope everyone is careful with it all.

( Edit: half of the tags on this got deleted bcs apparently there's a max tags you can add... anyway enjoy the ramble if there are any more questions please ask them bcs I do not want misunderstandings or anything ;))

[chilledmac]

i was talking to my friend about the potentiality of macdennis and how they Will become canon but she disagreed. so we phoned her sister who said verbatim: "you know they're having sex and touching dicks" WHEN I TELL YOU i have Never been so obnoxious when i heard that!! she gets it she really gets it

[jimines]

.

[thebirdmanhewatches]

Me casually creating my third set of sims featuring a god figure self insert, the central focus of its torment, those complicit, and a child chosen: sure hope I don’t accidentally make a story more beautiful than any I try to construct with thought

[redysetdare]

Every time someone calls a character being normal protective "overprotective" i lose a brain cell. i need to you guys to learn what the "Over" means in "overprotective" because you think it's a cute little fun character quirk instead of a flaw that usually acts as hindrance to one characters freedom and privacy in favor of another characters control and fear.

[chuluoyi]

*｡☆ﾟ 🕰️ 11.07 p.m

divorce scare apology fic🤞🏻 yes people, in the spirit of april 1, it’s gojo who is having dreams :)) and i promise you it’s straight up comfort fic~

a part of gojo's love entries

you’ve known something is bugging satoru as he hasn’t been teasing the heck out of you for these past three days.

and you were proven true when tonight, on your marital bed, he said—

“so… i’ve been thinking…” he started, seemingly deep in thought, playing with your hair. “oh, more like it’s because of this one bad dream…”

“what are you on about?” you raised an eyebrow. okay, you knew something was up with him, but him being a bit skittish made you a bit worried.

“umm, yeah. so, the other day i had this dream about us in tokyo district court—”

“district court—?”

“—getting a divorce, yeah.”

your eyes rounded, and satoru could feel himself almost regretting his words seeing your stunned expression, so he added a band-aid—

“no, it was just a dream! i’m not divorcing you, okay?!”

however, your expression had soured, as you looked down, visibly heartbroken. alarmed, satoru immediately pulled you to his chest.

“oh, ooh— there, there,” he soothed you, stroking your hair. “sweets, no. never. okay? i’m just telling you, just like what you did the other day.”

you had a dream of him cheating on you once, but this was wholly different.

“you’re the worst,” you accused, and despite yourself, you felt an ache in your chest. “how could such thought even cross your mind— that you dream about it?”

“if i can pick my dream… i’ll pick the memory from our honeymoon— precisely when i ripped your black and pink lingerie off and made you scream my name, you know that.”

you huffed, burying your face in his chest. “hmph. explain.”

satoru smiled, finding you so incredibly precious. silly wifey.

he proceeded as he pat your back. “nothing really, i’m still bitter too! no way in hell! but then i started thinking… what would you do in 0.001% chance of us being divorced?”

you pulled away, growling. “…so there’s still a chance—!”

“noooo! that’s statistically impossible! aren’t we having a late night talk? we’re always talking about imaginary scenarios at night, aren’t we?!”

what was the point of this? it was only upsetting you with each second.

“how could you ask me that?” you glared at him resentfully. “if we’re divorced, then—” you grabbed his hand and placed it on your belly. “what about baby? do you not want to see him anymore?”

and in that moment it seemed like he just realized it too as he sheepishly scratched his head, mouth gaping. “ah—”

his response caused your hormones to stir, and combined by your disbelief, you spitefully threw his hand away and turned to your side, refusing to face him.

“if you dare to divorce me, i’ll move out japan at a moment’s notice,” you spat out, crossing your arms. “i won’t let you see my baby— and i’ll put a restraining order on you too, just so you see.”

“whoa, wait—”

“or i can also jump from yasohachi bridge and then become a curse—i’ll haunt you to your dying days!”

“—?! you can’t do that!”

“oh, i can also remarry! i’ll marry ichiji so fast and by the time the baby is born, your kid will have his name instead!”

“ichi— hey! that’s insulting! i would’ve forgiven if it was nanami, but ichiji?!”

“shut up! you’re— you’re annoying!”

in hindsight, this wasn’t something you should get this much worked up for. satoru was obviously just being his dense self and you knew it, but somehow the thought of him suddenly not by your side anymore hurt you— and perhaps your unstable hormones played a part too.

. . . but then his strong arms wrapped around you in that instant, enveloping you in his warm and reassuring embrace from behind. “hey… sweets, don’t be mad…”

“…”

“if you do, baby will also be—”

“you are making us mad.”

“okay, okay.” satoru sighed, his right palm reaching out to caress your five-month baby bump, and his voice was tinted with slight regret as he replied, “sorry…”

you melted a bit, but still gave him the cold shoulder, showing how cross you were that he brought it up in the first place.

and both of you stayed that way for a while, and you started to get sleepy, until you heard him muttering—

“still… whatever you do,” his voice sounded strained, and it made you awake again. “even when i’m not here… you can’t get yourself hurt, alright?”

“what does that mean?” you finally turned towards him, your eyes shone with slight panic. “what do you mean with you not being here?”

“nothing, sweetheart.” satoru grinned, pinching your cheek. “just saying—since i’m away often, don’t do anything reckless, you can get hurt.”

“don’t put it as if you’re going to go some place far away.” you didn’t know what you were spouting now, but you were tired and just didn’t want to pursue this conversation any longer.

you bit your lip, not looking at him. “or… i’ll get sad.”

seeing you so vulnerable and open like this made satoru realize that as much as he needed you to stay sane, you also needed him. the clarity stirred something within him, causing warmth to rapidly spread in his chest.

and he felt soft. so soft for you. and he adored you, more than anyone else in this wretched world.

“aw, look at my baby girl.” your husband cradled you close to him with a wide grin, patting you soothingly, his heart fluttering. “how can i leave you be a single mother? i’m here, yeah? always.”

and you believed him. otherwise, you were willing to risk it all just to get him home, by your side.

you smushed your face into his chest, ignoring your burning face. “hmph, being a single mother isn’t that bad. i can still drain your wealth.”

“huh?! wait, you just said you’ll be sad without me!”

and you thought, being in his embrace is the most comforting place of all.

epilogue

“by the way, i just realized…” satoru fixed his frown on you accusingly in the next morning. “how is your taste in men so bad? why ichiji as your first pick?”

“uh,” you were at a loss of words, totally not expecting this discussion on a brand new morning. “because… he’s kind? he’s easiest to sway—”

“so you’re saying… you can seduce him easily?!”

“…sort of? but you’re right, i should go for nanami. he’s way good-looking. or his apprentice… what’s his name again? ino takuma—”

“nanami? ino?! wait a minute…! y-you’re my wife… but you’re also thinking about which man is easier to seduce and which is more attractive?!”

“uh— you’re the one asking first!”

“still! so you do think about them! about weaker, lesser men who are not me!”

“nanami is not—!”

“hoh?! so it’s nanami, huh!?”

“don’t you dare to start anything, gojo satoru,” you hissed. “you said my taste in men is bad. so that includes you too.”

“wha?!”

[yawnderu]

Lovely — Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Mom!Reader

"She looks just like you." You whisper softly, gaze full of love as you admire the baby between both of you. He doesn't respond for a long while, completely enamored by the little girl who is holding his finger with her entire tiny hand, looking in awe at the life you both created.

"She's so tiny." He whispers back, secretly afraid he'll startle the baby with his deep voice despite knowing she has fallen asleep to his voice and hums more than once. A small chuckle from you is all it takes for her face to turn towards you, her free hand grabbing a strand of your hair and trying to take it to her mouth before Simon gently intervenes, taking it back and giving her another finger to hold.

"Thank you." His gaze focuses on you as he cups your cheek, thumb tracing random patterns on your skin as the corners of his mouth tilt up in a small, tender smile.

"What for?" You ask as if you didn't know exactly what he was talking about, as if he hadn't thanked you hundreds of times for carrying his child ever since he found out you were pregnant.

"For creating her." His tone is as gentle and tender, and if it didn't show just how much he loves you, the look in his eyes totally did. He's looking at you like you're a goddess in the flesh— and you are. You give him a warm smile, leaning closer to plant a small kiss on his cheek, which he returns.

"I like our baby." He murmurs, his hand coming down to caress her cheek gently with one finger. He treats her like she's made of glass, and in his mind, she is. She's so tiny compared to his behemoth frame, and it took a while until he felt comfortable enough to hold her. He plants a soft kiss on her forehead, gaze drifting between his angels before he lets out a small sigh of content.

"She likes you too." You tease, playfully poking his side as the memories of how much of a daddy's girl your daughter is already despite being only three months old. It's lovely, really, to see the man everyone knows as "the big boy with the skull mask" become absolute putty under the tiny hands of his daughter.

He bends backwards for her, holding her late at night and talking to her, telling her all sort of stories about his life despite knowing she can't understand yet. His heart melts whenever his daughter simply looks up at him and babbles, hand reaching out to him and pulling on anything she can reach with surprising strength.

"Mum would have loved her." Your heart breaks at his hushed words, hand immediately reaching out to caress his cheek as he refuses to hold your gaze, simply looking down at your daughter with sadness hidden deep inside his loving stare.

"Look at me, big guy." It takes a few seconds for him to look up, and when he does, you can feel everything. The regret, the longing, the sadness, the pain. You bring him closer for a soft kiss, both of your lips turning up into a smile as your daughter interrupts you by babbling and holding onto Simon.

"You carry her love with you. In your eyes, your smile, your hair... her love didn't go with her when she passed." He looks down, biting the inside of his cheek softly before nodding his head, carefully holding onto your daughter before laying her down on his chest, one of his hands supporting her neck while the other one holds her body close to his.

"Never saw it that way." His voice sounds distant now, yet it's never devoid of affection and love for you. You know him well enough to know he's visiting a graveyard of memories. You lay down next to him, head resting on his shoulder, planting a kiss on his soft jawline.

"She was the best nan. Always spoiling Joseph and buying him anything she thought he'd like... at some point Tommy and Beth were running out of space because he had so many bloody toys." A small chuckle escapes his lips, smiling fondly at the memories of his family before they were taken from him. He felt comfortable enough with you to be able to speak about his family— you were always so patient, waiting years for this.

"They sound lovely." Another kiss to his jawline as you look at your daughter absent-mindedly run her fingers over his tattoo sleeve. It's ironic, to see such an innocent person tracing something meant to be representing of destruction and loss, yet that's what his life is, two sides of the coin that is Simon Riley's past and present. "I'm sure they're watching over you, proud that you have this life."

He gives you a soft grin, planting a kiss on your forehead as he looks out of the window, fingers absent-mindedly caressing your daughter's back while he looks up at the sky. I made it, mum.