#i refuse to keep rereading this after doing so for 3 hours

[conspicuous-clown-car]

small fnaf sb drabble

wrote this at like 3 am after imagining chica like one of those photos you see of cats where their eyes glow in the dark menacingly, then it slowly turned into...this lol

point of view is of my fnaf sb self insert, chica eats trash and feels bad, moon is a bastard but just wants to hang out with his friend.

i'm not a writer so keep that in mind, i just really wanted to get this idea out, and it would take too long in comic form

You walk down the second level hallway between Monty Golf and Kids Cove, heading towards Chica's Bakery. You fidget with the lanyard you're wearing, twisting the security badge around in your hand idly.

Hearing a suspicious sound of crunching in the distance, you pause, letting the badge fall against your shirt.

Your eyes dart around, and you slowly make your way towards whatever the noise is, attempting to keep yourself hidden. Right as you’re about to walk out from behind a food cart, the lights go out. ah, right. hourly recharge. 

You quickly peek your head out, trying to find what’s causing the noise, eyes straining as they get used to the dark. Your eyes widen seeing a figure that looks like Chica, hunched over a knocked over garbage bin……eating trash……

god, not again.

You stand up straight, and carefully walk closer, making sure not to trip on anything in the dim lighting. You do your best to make as little noise as possible with your footsteps, thankful that the carpet muffles most of it.

Finally, standing a good 5 feet behind her as she shovels garbage into her mouth, you just, pause. Contemplating why she’s still doing this after supposedly being “fixed” weeks ago. When and how did this behavior start? Why did they give her the need to eat in the first place? Why has management been ignoring this problem for so long?

and why……….why do you keep watching, this is disgusting.

You decide you’ve had enough of watching and listening to her shoving trash down her gullet, and move your hand past your jacket to silently unclip your flashlight from your belt.

Flashlight in your hold, you click it on and shine the light directly on her, informing her of your presence.

“Chica!”

The animatronic's head spins a whole 180 degrees towards you, body still facing away. You wince at the sight. She looks like a wild animal, her eyes reflecting the light of your flashlight, her mouth stuffed with trash from the garbage bin that she was clearly just eating out from. She looks sort of…aggressive? Like a pet getting caught eating something it knows it's not supposed to be eating.

You two stare at each other for a long awkward moment. 

When she finally relaxes a bit her eyes dart back and forth on you, surveying you

“Uh-“

Some chewed up mix of garbage falls out of her beak as her jaw moves

“…..Yes?”

You try not to laugh at that, stifling a smile and managing to keep a straight face. You lower the flashlight so that it's pointing to the floor, closing your eyes, you take in a deep breath. Your shoulders slack and you let out a long sigh, then look at her

“you know you’re supposed to be charging right now, right?”

She comically blinks out of synch, processing the information

“…Oh…oh!”

Chica jolts, and looks around as if she’s just now noticed the darkness the pizzaplex has been engulfed in

“Oh my gosh, you’re right!! Sorry! I just uh…..” 

She glances to the toppled over garbage bin, then back to you. Shrugging sheepishly, she lets out an embarrassed giggle

“……Got distracted?”

You huff and manage a smile, not really that upset with her eating habits, just a little concerned for her. You scratch at your face absentmindedly.

“it’s alright, just... get to the nearest charging station asap, yeah?”

She straightens up, her body rotating to face you. Her mood lifts a bit and she smiles, relieved that you aren’t reprimanding her for her strange habit. Despite that she still seems tense

“Yeah! Of course!”

She struts towards you, eyes lighting up the dark and casting a purple glow over you. Abruptly stopping herself from patting your shoulder, she frowns when realizing how much gunk is on her hands. You look up at her with a soft expression on your face.

"...hey, i'll help you clean up after my patrols if you want, okay?

Chica stays silent, lost in thought as she stares at her messy hand. Her eyes quickly dart between you and her hand for a moment. Then, catching up to the present, her eyes settle on you, and she smiles gratefully.

"...I would, really appreciate that, thank you"

You give her a small smile, and pat her clean arm wordlessly, an attempt to comfort her. It seems to lift her up, as she swiftly regains her peppy composure and remembers her current task

“Right! Charging! Sorry again, see you later, Krissy!”

she gestures a peace sign as she starts walking past you

“mhm, see ya”

You nod your head at the chicken, watching as she hurries towards what is hopefully a charging station, leaving you in the dark. But as she walks further in the distance, you see her form slouch a bit, as if in shame. It tugs at your heartstrings, and you wonder if this is starting to get a little out of control, this eating problem of hers. It’s clearly taking a toll on her, you can tell, no matter how much she tries to hide behind her enthusiastic nature.

You look over at the garbage bin on its side, ultimately deciding to let a staff bot handle it. There's no way you were touching garbage without gloves, and you cringe at the thought.

As your mind wanders you turn around and continue walking to your original destination, Chica’s Bakery. Knowing the path, you turn the flashlight off, keeping it in your hold just in case. You quite enjoy the darkness, along with the bright colors of the neon lights on the ceilings and walls, it's very peaceful. Lost in your thoughts as you continue making your way towards the bakery, only the muffled sound of your footsteps can be heard in the quiet empty pizzaplex.

That and the faint sound of bells.

You immediately freeze right outside the shutter doors, hair standing on edge at the noise. Your ears strain to listen for anything else as you stand completely still. The darkness around you is slowly lit with a red hue, and right behind you, you hear the sounds of something…mechanical.

You spin around and, not expecting Moons face to be inches from yours, you jump and flail backwards, cursing. You lose hold of your flashlight and it thuds on the carpet. How you didn’t feel him so close to you, you had no clue. His body is slouched low to the ground as he snickers at you. Your face feels warm, embarrassed by your reaction

“c'mon moon! the hell?”

You glare at him and ball your hands into fists at your sides, only slightly irritated at his amusement

His chuckling slows and quiets to a stop and he tilts his head, the action causing a creaking sound as he looks at you. god you gotta fix that.

“taking my job?”

His voice filled with mirth, and maybe a bit of mock irritation too. 

You lean over to grab your flashlight off the floor, keeping your eyes on him. Standing up straight attempting to regain your composure, you fail to process what he said

“huh?”

“Chica.”

He says plainly, casually taking a step towards you, still slouched. You don't understand where he's going with this, as he's purposely acting mysterious

“oh”

you say dumbly

“right, she was uh, just kinda there so i….sent her on her way?”

You shrugged awkwardly, thumb fidgeting with the grooves on the flashlight. You can't really tell if he's taking this conversation seriously or not.

Glowing red eyes seem to brighten as he stares at you, his body rigid as he shakes his head creepily.

“didn’t do it correctly.”

You squint at him, tilting your head in confusion.

“…didn’t-…..what do you mean?”

He glares, abruptly walking towards you, and you manage not to flinch. Yet your grip on the flashlight tightens.

“didn’t escort her to a charging station.”

He starts slowly circling around you, like a predator, keeping his gaze locked on you. You turn towards him, making sure to keep your eyes on him. You're really not in the mood for what you think he's planning.

“didn’t make sure she actually got to one.”

His hands twitch a bit, and you glance at them for a brief moment, trying to figure out if he's actually upset or not.

“well, isn’t that your job?”

you instantly regret the quick retort, mentally yelling at yourself for saying it ruder than you meant. wow! way to de-escalate the situation!

Moon stops walking, and just stares at you, alarmingly still. All you can do is look back into his red eyes as you attempt to control your breathing and keep your face emotionless.

Another moment goes by of staring at each other, then a reedy giggle bursts out of his voice box with a glitch. He covers his mouth with a hand -as if that would muffle it- and grips his stomach, his body shaking as if he’s actually laughing. You just stare at him as he laughs at you, wondering what's so funny.

He finally stops laughing and lets out a quiet sigh, mimicking wiping a tear from his eye while holding a hand to his chest. His faceplate quickly tilts toward you.

He lifts his hand, and calmly motions for you to come closer, holding it out as if he wants you to take it.

“c'mere.” 

You grip your flashlight to your chest with both hands, confused at the quick change, not fully trusting his intentions. You purse your lips and squint your eyes at him suspiciously.

“….why?”

He slowly moves a bit closer, crouching to your eye level, trying to appear less intimidating.

“come on...” 

His voice is softer, as if he genuinely means no harm. It could still be a trick though, you've fallen for this before. Stretching his arm towards you he motions again for you to take his hand.

You look down at his hand, then at him, then back at his hand, and think for a moment. You trust him, right?

You let out a sigh through your nose and cautiously lift your right hand.

Moon quickly shakes his head and waves his hand, and you ignore the fact that it slightly startled you. He then points to your left hand, the one that has the fazwatch on it. oh.

He holds out his hand again, and -after switching your hold of the flashlight to your right to make sure he doesn't take it- you carefully place your left hand on his, watching him to see if he'll try anything.

Smoothly shifting closer to you, he gently grabs your arm and gets up into your personal space. He brings your wrist and fazwatch close to his face, and starts fiddling with it. You relax a bit, relieved that he was just messing with you before.

Curious, you try to see what he’s doing as he taps his fingers on the screen, but his huge faceplate is blocking your view

“….what’re you…?”

“shhh...”

He quickly shushes you, faceplate spinning once, and the bell on the end of his hat hits your chest.

"hey!"

You scoff, feigning annoyance, despite it not hurting that much.

Moon hisses in response.

He stops tapping and stares at the screen for a second, then guides your arm up to your face with both hands so you could see what’s on the fazwatch. You wince at the bright screen, your eyes adjusted to the dark. Oh, it’s the useless map of the building you stopped using weeks ago, with...dots on it. Four to be exact, one red, one purple, one green, and one pink. The pink one was further away from the rest, not moving.

You quickly put together that these were the glamrocks in their green rooms, all charging. Except for Chica, who was still loitering in the atrium…ugh.

Moon points to the pink dot, his finger getting too close to your eyes for comfort.

“Chica.”

You bring your arm down to look at him, simultaneously getting his hand further away from your face.

“yea, she’s still not in a charging station...”

You sigh and look at the ceiling, dragging your right hand down the side of your face tiredly. You really were a babysitter to these four. At least now you'll always be able to see their locations on your fazwatch, that's helpful.

You realize Moon still has a hold on your arm as his hands start curling around it, and he gently tugs you closer, getting your attention back on him.

“come with me.”

You look at him for a moment, then turn your head toward the shutter door that separates you from the bakery. You had your own personal reasons for going there besides having to patrol…but...

One of his hands moves from your arm to your other shoulder and he pulls you even closer. He stand a little taller, so that his face is right in front of yours

“could be funny...”

You lift your eyebrows in interest, eyes darting to him for a second but you keep facing towards the shutter. Hmmm, knowing Moon, it could be funny…

“help me do my job?”

He requests, calling back your previous statement. Man he really wants you to come with him, huh?

“…hmmmmmmmmm....”

You draw out a long hum, and turn towards him somewhat, still not looking at him. You wait for whatever he’ll do to try and convince you to go with him.

Moon's hands squeeze you, he tilts his head to the side, and your eyes are immediately drawn to him.

“pretty please?”

ah shit, you can't say no to that

“....hmmmmmmm okaaay…”

You huff, reluctantly agreeing to accompany him.

You hear a mechanical rumbling noise coming from his chest, and he straightens his posture, looking pleased. His hand engulfs yours as he quickly grabs it, clearly thrilled to be able to spend time with you.

You roll your eyes and fail to hide a smile as he happily drags you through the dark building, away from Chica's Bakery.

[natsuslover]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆࣪ ִֶָ☾. eren bf headcanons

notes— i was rereading the 7 mins frat boy eren fanfic so YK i had to write some headcanons for my fav (i miss him like a mf every single day oh my shaylaaa). also the way ive never written for aot before is insane bc i love it sm

ft. eren yeager (jaeger?)

warnings: mild cursing idk, just wholesome fluff very sfw

first of all bro thinks he’s all nonchalant and mysterious or wtv but he’s such a softie (for u teehee)

like he’ll act like he doesn’t gaf but absolutely has ur coffee order memorized after one date

yk “just in case”

the kind of guy to be like “whatever” and then have a whole spotify playlist for u

doesn’t say “i love you” but def says shit like “don’t do anything dumb while i’m not here” and expects u to decipher it

and then gets pissed off when u don’t like tf

love language is PHYSICAL TOUCHHH

cannot stress this enough hb LOVES being physically close to u

bc he’s obv not that great at expressing his affection through words (emotionally immature dumbass)

constant back of the neck kisses when ur talking to other ppl

or hugs from behind

like “yeah this one’s mine”

always always casually has his hand somewhere on u

on ur thigh when ur sitting or ur lower back when ur walking through a crowd

also he sleeps like a cat on top of u omfg

like cuddling into the crook of ur neck and everything

and he refuses to get off bro does not care if u can’t breathe lmao

but if u somehow manage to detach him from ur body he makes sure his leg is touching urs at least

literally can’t fall asleep otherwise

he pretends he doesn’t get jealous but he’s actually just in denial

“i’m not jealous, i just think that dudes a clown”

def reposts and says random cryptic shit on instagram stories w a black screen

like “loyalty isn’t hard if u actually care”

thinks he eats it up every time too like he’s 100% thinking “oh yeah my girl gonna love this one” 💀

will pick u up from class with zero notice if he senses even a whisper of competition

can’t text for shit bc man just ISN’T the greatest communicator yk

u either get no reply for 17 hours and then a whole ass essay about his day

or a little “wya” at 2 am with no context and no punctuation (maybe a red heart too if he’s feeling cute)

screenshots every single meme he gets that he thinks u would like but doesn’t send them until like 2 weeks later when he’s feeling soft

like the way he’s normal one week and then a complete utter soft lover boy the next you’d think he’s ovulating

weirdly sentimental but pretends he’s just a chill guy

keeps ur hair tie on his wrist like it’s a war trophy

in fact he might have multiple just in case u ever need one

his lockscreen is fs gonna be some shitty ass picture of u that he refuses to change

like prob some blurry pic of u flipping him off or sum and he thinks it’s adorable

found an old hoodie of yours once and wore it for a week straight bc it smelled like u

and he pretended he didn’t notice

he’s SUCH a hothead it’s insane

will without a doubt square up for u in a parking lot if someone makes u even the slightest bit uncomfy

terrible at arguments bc he ends up getting flustered every time and says dumb shit like “well maybe i do care ok stfu!”

but softens immediately if u cry bc he doesn’t know how to handle it and feels guilty asf

“okok im sorry come here don’t cry ur gonna make me panic”

a fantastic hugger tho

he’s ur ride or die period

literally will go to the ends of the earth for u and u don’t even have to ask

would fight a god for u no hesitation

will eradicate 80% of humanity for u even

doesn’t trust easily but once ur in ur his person for life

says stuff like “ur all i’ve got so please don’t leave” when he’s feeling especially vulnerable

mostly during those deep 3 am talks or post breakdown cuddles

he loves u fully

struggles expressing it in words but the actions explain themselves

once ur his ur really HIS bros never leaving u alone

[lkblackham]

You know

Every time I say I'm going to Do A Thing, I wind up somehow NOT Doing That Thing. It's like a curse.

Anyway, I told myself I would finish the next pages for No Time To Apologize and then I wrote a little short story about Atash and Emmrich reuniting after this exchange (thanks so much AGAIN to @draco-illius-noctis for the lovely letter, I will never get over it (clearly)) and then decided I'd add a li'l illustration.

Which then turned out to be not so li'l. But that's just how it goes sometimes. You find enjoyment in something and you stay up until 3 am working on it. And that's actually very okay.

Story is under the cut, and over here on AO3. It might be the most sickeningly, cloyingly, tooth-rotting sweet thing I've ever made. I have no regrets.

A Little Homecoming

Atash was waiting in front of the eluvian.

 She had been waiting since she had woken up, about an hour ago. Maybe two hours. Two and half. Honestly, she'd stopped keeping track. Lucanis had tried to cajole her into coming back to the kitchen for her breakfast, but she would not be cajoled. Not by food, at least. She had been forced to make a few running trips to the privy and back. But bladders were not to be trifled with, and she would be mortified if she accidentally wet herself in front of her husband.

Because that's who she was waiting for: Emmrich. Her (technically not yet in the eyes of the law but still) husband. After a whole month, the Mourn Watch had finally decided they were done with him and Manfred, and they could return home. To her. 

To them. 

Atash ran her hands over her belly, a nervous habit she had been developing over the past few weeks. It was like she had to keep checking the kid was still in there. The midwife had told her she was about four and a half months along - she hadn’t even known she was pregnant until she was about three months in. As it was, the bump was just now becoming visible, but not in the most ‘obviously with child’ way. If she slouched, she just looked like she’d eaten too many pies. Not exactly “glowing”. 

How would Emmrich react, she wondered? The last time he had seen her, he had literally just found out she was pregnant. They had been trapped in a tomb somewhere in the deeper levels of the Necropolis at the time, so stress had been high, but he had been ecstatic. And terrified. Maybe a little nauseated. Just as she had been. And then he had been forced to stay behind to help the Mourn Watch clean up the mess and she had been forced to return to the Lighthouse on her own, because damn it she was leader of the Veilguard and pregnant on top of that, so staying down in the Necropolis with Emmrich was completely out of the question. 

Yeah, she still hadn't quite forgiven Vorgoth and Myrna for that. Or Brunhilde Ziegenfuss, the wayward necromancer who had been the whole reason they had been trapped in that tomb. The minute Atash gave birth and could walk properly again, that bitch was in for it. 

But not now. Now, Atash was waiting. Now, today, finally, FINALLY, Emmrich and Manfred were coming home. He had said so in his last letter, which had been uncharacteristically sloppy and stuffed into a torn envelope - as if he had written and mailed it off in a great hurry, on his way out the door to the Crossroads. 

"I will be there before the noon bell." That was what he had scrawled haphazardly on the paper. "I will not spend one more minute than I have to bereft of your company. I will not lose one more second with our child. I AM COMING HOME. And there is absolutely NOTHING anyone in the Mourn Watch can do about it. I'll gladly subject myself to a tribunal if I must. But I will not leave you again. I REFUSE."

Atash still had that letter, tucked into her sash. She had been taking it out and rereading it, to be certain she had it right and didn't just dream it up out of longing.

The surface of the mirror rippled. Atash's heart leapt into her throat. 

An arm appeared, shining with layers of gold bangles. Then a shoulder, clad in a beautiful old green and red coat. Then, a face - the most lovely face she had ever seen, with sharp cheekbones and a regally hooked nose and deep, warm hazel eyes that glimmered in the eluvian light. 

Emmrich stepped out onto the dais, followed closely by Manfred. He looked disheveled - which, for him, meant he hadn't bothered with his collar pin that morning and his hair had been hurriedly combed into a slightly messier version of his usual coiffure. 

She hardly cared. He looked as he always did, which to Atash's eyes was absolutely fucking perfect. 

He immediately caught sight of her, and before anything could be said, he practically leapt down the steps and caught her up in a tight hug, burying his face in her neck. Atash clutched him to her body, nose in his hair, nearly brought to tears by the overwhelming scent of him - sage and green moss and something floral she could never place - so sorely missed all these weeks apart. 

A tiny, distant voice in her head pointed out how much like her terrible romance serials this all was. She threw it away without a second thought. *Fuck that*, she thought, *I earned this. WE earned this.*

“Darling.” Emmrich sighed against her skin. “Mein Schatz, Mein Liebling, dearest most beloved Atash. I will never leave you again. Not as long as I draw breath, or for whatever comes afterwards.”  

“I'd tell you to never make promises like that,” she murmured into his hair, “but I think I might actually just hold you to that this time.” 

As if to emphasize her point - or perhaps just to remind them of their presence - she felt a terrific kick from the baby, much bigger than any she had ever had thus far, enough to elicit a small, involuntary “oof!” from her.  

Emmrich jolted back, startled. Atash laughed, somewhat breathless (the kid had kicked her right in the bladder again). “Looks like I'm not the only one who's excited to see you.” 

He took a small step back, looking down at her stomach - at the small, round bump that hadn't been there when they'd last seen each other. His face filled with a tenderness, a worry and joy, that defied mere words. He tentatively laid his hand on the bump, as if afraid his touch might hurt the fragile little life growing inside her. 

Atash gently took both his hands and placed them on her belly, laying her hands over his. 

“They're small.” she said softly. “The midwife said she wasn’t sure how big the baby will get, but they probably won’t be the same size as a full-blooded Qunari.”

“That's alright,” Emmrich spoke barely above a trembling whisper, voice filled with awe. “They're healthy. You're healthy. That's… that's all that matters.”

The baby moved under his hand, as if responding to his voice. His breath caught in his throat. He leaned forward, chin trembling, marveling at the tiny little life he had helped create moving under his fingers. 

Atash felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “The midwife also said the baby can hear us, a little bit. I've been trying to learn lullabies to sing at night, but… well.” she managed a rueful chuckle. “I think I'm scaring the poor kid more than anything.” She raised a hand to the crown of Emmrich's head, running her fingers through his hair. “It's good you're here now. You can take up lullaby duties.” 

He laughed, voice cracking a little. “What makes you think I'll fare any better in that regard?” 

“I've heard you humming around the Lighthouse. You've been holding out on me and I intend to rectify that, Messere Volkarin.” 

Manfred’s head poked into view over Emmrich's hands, goggle lenses whirling around as they always did when he was excited. “Rook!” He hissed jovially. “Bay-bee?” 

Atash laughed. “How could I forget about you? Here-” she took his large gloved hand and placed it right by Emmrich's on her stomach. “Can you feel anything?” 

“No!” Manfred looked dismayed. Or as dismayed as a skeleton could look. “I can't! Is oh-kay?” 

“Oh, dear Manfred.” Emmrich regained some of his composure, patting his ward’s hand. “The baby is alright. You simply can't feel them, being only bone.” 

“Awww.” Manfred's eyes seemed to sag a little in their sockets. 

“Awww.” Atash wrapped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him in for a bony hug. “I know you probably can't feel this either, but I'm just so glad you're here” 

“I like hugs.” Manfred said into her shoulder, patting her back. “Feel good in here.” He lightly poked the spot between her shoulder blades, right over her heartbeat. 

Atash's valiant efforts to contain her raging hormones finally failed, the tears escaping her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. 

“Oh, fuck it.” She hugged him even more tightly, fully giving in to the weeping. “That’s adorable.” 

“I know.” Manfred said modestly, patting her on the back again. 

“Good. You should know that.” she sobbed. “Don't let anyone tell you different.”

“Oh, darling…,” Emmrich embraced her again, transferring her sobbing form from poor Manfred's now-soaked lapel to his shoulder. “You’ve had such a rough go of it, haven't you?” 

“I-it’s okay.” She sniffed. “I'm fine, I just….” She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder. “I missed you. Both of you. So much.” 

“And we missed you, dearest. Terribly. Every day. Every hour.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Taash’s voice pierced through their little bubble, bringing them both back to reality. “You're crying again? I thought you'd dried yourself out yesterday when you saw that dog that was too damn small.” 

Their language was rough, but there was an obvious note of teasing in their voice. 

“That dog WAS too damn small.” Atash sobbed into Emmrich's coat. “They fit in my hand. I could've squished them. THAT'S TOO DAMN SMALL, TAASH.” 

“Oh dear,” Emmrich chuckled, rubbing sympathetic circles on her back.

“Emmrich.” Lucanis appeared at Taash's side, still wearing his heavily stained cook’s apron. “You came back just in time. I've been trying to get her to eat. She hasn't had anything since dinner last night.” 

Emmrich's hand stilled on Atash's back. 

“Rook,” he said, quietly, “is this true?” 

She sighed, hiccuping a little as her weeping calmed down. “Emmrich, I can skip one meal-” 

“Absolutely not.” Emmrich's voice had gone full Disapproving Professor. He drew back from Atash, hands on her shoulders, looking her square in the eye. “Atash, it was one thing when you were on your own, forgetting meals and barely sleeping-” 

(Taash had the grace to look at least a little abashed when Atash threw them a withering glance over her shoulder. They had been sending cute little ‘updates’ to Emmrich that involved distinctly unflattering drawings of Atash napping in random spots around the Lighthouse.) 

“- but you cannot do that now. Not anymore. I do realise,” he said, catching her about to argue, “that this is your body and I would never be so crass as to assume I had any right to tell you what to do with it. But….” He paused. Took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, it was with plaintive appeal. “I know what your mother taught you, about using your body to help others. But… as long as you carry our child, this is no longer just your body, dearest. How you care for yourself, is how you care for them.” he sighed. “I… I know you're healthy, and they're healthy. But… you skipped meals so often, in the past, and now…”

Atash was aware of the uncomfortable shifting behind her, as Taash and Lucanis found themselves bearing witness to a very personal conversation.

Guilt twisted in her gut. This was a man who remembered, all too vividly, how it felt to be poor and hungry. Not just hungry - starving. That was not something you ever forgot. There was no way, in this life or the next, that he would ever allow his wife or unborn child to be subjected to even a fraction of that suffering. Not if he could do anything about it. 

Even if he might be going a little bit far with it right now. He had literally just come back from a month away - he could be forgiven for doing a little overcorrecting. 

She bumped his forehead gently with hers. 

“Okay, Emmrich. You're right.” she kissed the crook of his nose. “Let's go eat.” 

He let out a breath, squeezing her shoulders. “Thank you, darling.” 

Arm in arm, they followed Lucanis and Taash to the kitchen, Manfred bouncing along behind them. 

[bansheeoftheforest]

Still refusing to reread PJO/TKC but it is still infesting my brain so woe crossover au be upon yall

Au where Anubis casually gets assigned to be Bianca's and Nico's older brother, anyone?

(messy points below, mostly from Anubis' pov coz he is my pookie, and keep an eye out in the reblogs section for add-ons/updates!)

Like, once the other Egyptian gods start dropping like flies because the magicians are imprisoning them, assuming they may also go after Anubis, he turns to Hades as a very very very last resort because, well, he would like to not be imprisoned for all eternity, thank you very much. Hades agrees on the condition that Anubis looks after his demigods, since he otherwise really isn't to any use of him, which Anubis accepts. So, Anubis is basically the Hades/Pluto demigods' divine babysitter in exchange for some protection from the magicians who may or may not also want to imprison him.

I shall say that this either works bc A) Hades kids radiate enough death so that he can be around them without a host or B) it is all just bureaucracy so when the rest of the Egyptian gods are gone those rules simply do not really apply.

Anyways, once the Big Three ProphecyTM rolls around and Maria Di Angelo kicks the bucket, Anubis is left in charge of making sure the Di Angelo siblings survive, taking them to and staying with them at the Lotus Casino and the different schools that Hades moves them around to, either as their "older brother"/guardian or as their pet dog that the authorities simply don't bat an eye at.

The siblings, with their memories absolutely fucked up, simply accepts that they either have a brother, a dog, an older brother who is occasionally a dog, or a dog that only conveniently shows up when their brother isn't there and vice versa.

And since I haven't read any RR books since I was 12 and I never read the HOO series, I can't really talk much about the logistics from here on out but. I have some thoughts in general.

Anubis makes sure that he takes the majority of the responsibilities, so that Bianca can be a little more happy and a little less stressed than she would have been if she was alone looking after her little brother.

He also happily distracts Nico when Bianca needs a break, he can genuinely listen to Nico ramble about whatever for hours, remembers it quite well and can return the conversation, which Bianca rarely has energy for.

(He was the exact same when he was young and wants to make sure Nico has someone that listens to him)

Genuinely cannot rest until he makes sure the siblings are fine and safe, which becomes a bit of a problem when Bianca goes on her first and last quest, and even more of a problem when he is more stuck in the Brooklyn House and he has to keep contacting Nico before he allows himself or Walt to rest as a result of that.

He is so so so so SO protective of the siblings. He is absolutely ready to die or kill for them. He is not a fighter, more often than not a pacifist, but when it comes to them he is the first to throw hands.

Also him absolutely being ready to kill the demigods that find the siblings at the military school coz he is so used to the "any demigod or magician is here to kill one of us and I have to protect them at all costs" mode that he has been kinda stuck in for the last 70 or so years, minimum.

He is merely an older sibling running on the equivalent of 3 hours of sleep and 2 strong coffees, which really doesn't help the situation once shit starts going down in Brooklyn/the Egyptian pantheon.

Speaking of the Brooklyn House. After being a Divine BabysitterTM for like 2000 years he genuinely cannot get rid of those base instincts, which ends up with him fussing over the Kanes/Walt/Zia and the rest of the initiates because those are CHILDREN and they need to REST and be SAFE and EAT PROPERLY and TAKE YOUR DAMN VITAMINES, WALT.

Because of those 2000 years of babysitting, Anubis is genuinely amazing with kids. You'd think they'd be scared by him, but no. He is the first one they run to when they scraped their knee and need a band aid and a hug.

He also 100% stares right into Percy's and Will's souls the moment he finds out Nico has/had crushes on them. Despite being raised in an entirely different time he definitely is a "no dating until you are at least 25 otherwise I might have a heart attack" sibling and he is not letting some random demigod break his lil brother's heart. He accepts Will well enough though coz he makes Nico laugh which in the end is the most important thing.

Will might actually be more intimidated by Anubis than Hades but that doesn't stop him. Nico is his babygirl and he knows Anubis is (probably) more bark than bite (most of the time).

No matter if Hades allows him to like. stop being a babysitter once the gods are restored and Ma'at is balanced and all, Anubis still sticks around and checks in on Nico (and eventually Hazel). He gets antsy if he hasn't heard from them at least once a day.

He probably has a good base relationship with Jason and Reyna (bc both are protective older siblings when it comes to Nico) but he keeps Percy at a distance ever since Bianca's death (not that he blames him). But he isn't particularly close to any of them, as his priorities lay with Nico, Hazel, and the Brooklyn House.

Assuming Anubis doesn't like. Introduce himself to the greeks as "Anubis" and instead says he is someone else, I have absolutely no idea when or if he would ever tell any of the greek demigods what he truly is. But I suppose Nico would eventually find out that his older brother actually isn't related to him at all, or even from the greek pantheon, and instead only happened to become his older brother as a favour to Hades. Depending on how he finds out he definitely could get upset but I like to believe he sorta figures eventually, and is just happy Anubis genuinely cares for him.

I also like to think that the greek gods they meet when the demigods take the siblings from the school to camp half-blood, just gives Anubis A LookTM. Either they are fully aware he is protecting the Hades kids or they think an Egyptian god is just casually hanging out with some random demigods. Which must certainly be a sight to behold.

Can yall for a moment imagine being the Kane siblings, trying to get the feather of truth from the god of death to avoid the impending apocalypse, who then says "sorry I am mostly on babysitting duty so I can't really help yall more than this, good luck tho."

Walt who meets Nico and is so conflicted because in one way he is slightly weirded out by this tiny depressed gremlin, but in another way the Anubis PartTM of him is just going "protect protect protect protect", which is a weird first impression.

One of the Kane siblings would be interested in Mythomagic, I just know it. Either Sadie coz it is funky or Carter bc it is nerdy. Either way, Nico has at least one Kane to bond with bc of it.

Nico just has the ultimate diplomatic immunity because he can go between Camp Half-blood, Camp Jupiter, and the Brooklyn House basically as he pleases.

On a completely different topic, the majority of Nico's wardrobe is just shit he has stolen from Anubis, he just lets it happen, in part because it is not like he as a god has a limited wardrobe, and in part bc Nico is absolutely adorable when he drowns in Anubis' jackets bc they are too big for him.

Also, Anubis helping Nico train his death magic, and teaching him the easiest ways to build endurance while using it.

Frankly the thought of the rest of the gods being banished, imprisoned, in exile or attempting to free themselves while Anubis is playing babysitter is very funny to me in general. Imagine being Isis or Osiris and attempting to ask your nephew/son what he did during the 2000 years yall were imprisoned and he goes "I took a side job as a babysitter to pay the bills".

Honestly I might reblog this with more thoughts eventually. They are all just so pookie.

[randomyuu]

the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

My guy Vox once again graced us with lovely Goyuu fanfics, and the way it follows you home, the stories i never told, made me go FERAL.

Time travel? Two Gojou Satorus? Double affection for our sunshine Yuuji? Yuuji sandwich? What feels like possible continuation of (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become???

FUCK.

I need to stop indulging my imagination too much. I should’ve been content with writing long-ass comments but noooooo, my brain goes “you gotta draw it”. DAMMIT VOX, YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITINGS HHHHHH

So… usually I should’ve picked a favourite scene that is within my drawing capability, but I just… love all three chapters??? So I made a questionable time investment? I can’t stop??? Help???

This is probably the most ambitious fanart project I’ve ever done so far. Fair enough, considering I might combust if I keep these welled-up emotions inside from reading Vox’s Goyuu fics. Fuck.

Fic info:

Title: the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

Author: @voxofthevoid

Pairing: YuuGoGo. Future!Yuuji, Future!Gojou, Teen!Gojou

(idk why I laugh writing YuuGoGo. I’m beyond help)

Currently, it is 3 chapters out of 8. And it’s gonna be NSFW chapter 4 onwards, so don’t forget to read the tags first, folks!

The drawings are under Read More, because I have lots of thoughts surrounding each chapter and drawings. It’ll be hella long if I didn’t hide it here. It was a mess down there. A combination of hours before, during, and after I read said fic. I’d say good luck finding the art among the sea of jumbled words but… you’ll find them easily. Don’t worry about it haha

SPOILERS FOR ALL 3 CHAPTERS! I highly recommend reading those first before diving into these drawings!

Also for the comics, read from right to left please!

From here on, I will be referring to the Future!Gojou as Gojou and the teenage one as Satoru.

Overall, drawing all these is fun! Really fun! This project pushed me quite hard, forcing me to test my limit (because I rarely draw this much back to back). Since this is a combination of drawings and comics, the coloring style will not be consistent. In a way, I want to try some brushes I never get to use, as well as try out my new graphic tablet. Drawing these got me giggling because I was finally able to let loose during line art. It's much easier to do so, and sometimes I just get to reread the fic and giggle to myself for the nth time.

CHAPTER 1:

Whooo. Whooooooooo—

Ok, ok, the premise is just that good. It intrigued me, fascinated me, and I just… oomph. I cannot refuse a Time Travel Yuuji Sandwich. Sign me up.

Honestly, there are two scenes that are just… a bit too clear in my mind when reading this chapter. That would be the one I drew above, and the other is when Yaga called Gojou to come outside of the class. I love, loooove how Vox wrote Satoru’s POV. And when Yuuji fucking giggles?

I lost it.

Can you imagine, drawing Yuuji grins, with shiny stuff, maybe some sunlight, just purely happy and indulging Gojou?

Help me, for I am drowning in my love and adoration for Yuuji.

Page 2 is an experiment on using harsh black as shading (kind of?). I really enjoyed colouring Yuuji, and drawing those buffalo skulls! I wish I can grasp the concept of contrast a bit better tho :v

CHAPTER 2:

This is probably the only chapter where I picture still images instead of comic panels. A bit like those cool chapter covers in mangas. The one I really, really want to draw is the scene with Satoru on the table. Can’t pass the opportunity to highlight Satoru being a brat, albeit a really cool brat.

Cool idea drawing always proves to be a challenge, because of course my artistic skill just so happens to be below the requirement. Thank you, Sketchfab, for the chair and desk’s perspective otherwise I’m screwed lmao

The second scene that I want to draw the most is this:

Gojou is one step away from climbing Yuuji. Also, I have a bit of a problem picturing a man pouting that makes him look crazy instead, so please have Gojou pouting adorably instead. Because, as Yuuji said (with love), Gojou is (also) a brat.

This is possibly my favorite art in this project, after Yuuji's in Chapter 1 page 2. It's clean because I don't have to draw background, and I was having a fun time drawing Yuuji. And Gojou's squishy cheek as well.

Oh, actually, there is a “manga” scene in this chapter. It’s when Yuuji said, “I love Satoru.”

I just—

AAAAAHHHHH YUUJIIIIIII YOU AND VOX ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. That secure relationship between Yuuji and Gojou? Satoru’s description of how Yuuji’s smile could blot out the sun??? Not me screaming 💀 I also see bits of hints of possible co-dependency, though I could be reading those wrong, but either way I’m good. Secure and possessive relationships are fun to consume hhhhhh

But yeah. There are too many wholesome Yuuji smiles in this fic, and I… I am not confident enough to draw genuine happiness. It’s too much for me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

For this chapter, another reason why I chose these two scenes is just because I want to try and draw cover-worthy pictures of Yuuji and Satoru, and Yuuji and Gojou (cough)

CHAPTER 3:

We start the chapter with Nanamin. Ah, Nanamin. I forgot what his teen self looked like and was surprised to see his design again lmao

I want to draw Yuuji and Nanami scene because… I just want to, I guess. I have never drawn him before (Yaga as well) so that's an interesting challenge. I got two ideas on how I want to draw it. One is a bit painting-esque, and the other one is like another chapter cover. In the end, I chose the cover one because I want to emphasise the difference between teen!Nanami and the Nanami from Yuuji’s original timeline, and how the watch feels like a connection between the same (yet not) person. It’s a bittersweet feeling? In a way?

I’m not really good at explaining my intention ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I love Yuuji’s answer to Nanami's question.

AND FINALLY.

A Yuuji SandwichTM scene.

And oh B O I do I love it. Have I told you I like every chapter? I probably have. But this one? Satoru’s curiosity, Yuuji’s on-brand self-deprecation, and Gojou come strolling down to show more of Yuuji to his mini-self. I want to draw this whole scene, from Gojou finding them, feeding Yuuji snacks, bitch-slapping Satoru into the backroom, to Yuuji growling. Them trying to hide a boner from Yuuji’s growl got me cackling so hard I LOVE IT 😭

I love it all. Please love Yuuji in my stead, Satoru and Satonyan :3

Oh! Also! 40-finger Yuuji sounds really, really cool! I’ll be happy with whatever Vox will give us in future chapters, but 40-finger Yuuji… possible scene with this timeline’s Sukuna… my god. The action! The drama! The bloodshed! One can only hope.

However, as much as I love that whole scene, it’s still too much for me :”) I’m still not yet confident in delivering the humour and action. Also my already-long drawing plan had my brain groaning in protest so I can’t push my luck :'D

When Gojou said "He looks sweet, but he's a bit of a beast", I kept picturing Yuuji staring innocently, but there was an edge to his look. As if the moment Satoru looks away, he will pounce. But in the end I just stick with innocent-looking Yuuji because I accidentally drew his eyes that way and I want to keep it in lol

Since Satoru points out how soft and cuddly Yuuji is, I also want to draw soft Yuuji :v

And the last one… is the last scene. For some reason, I read that both Gojou and Satoru share Yuuji’s lap and was having a frustrating yet fun time figuring out how it’s… physically possible, without having their butts on the ground because they both are not small at all. As I lined the art, I reread it again and… perhaps I read it wrong? Satoru is beside Yuuji, and not on his lap? So yeah, this one might be the least accurate, but hey, at least you can view it as a crack drawing or something :v

AAAANNNDDD I HAVE EXCEEDED TODAY’S BRAIN CAPACITY OF FORMING WORDS

Have I told you I love this fic?

…I probably have.

Have an amazing week (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[theballadofthesunandthestars]

love your newest fic! it’s very cute and you really seem to understand Lenore Dove which i love very much since she gets mischaracterize some much

Ahhhh, thank you!

What actually inspired this fic was when I reread SOTR and read the passage in Chapter 1 about Lenore Dove not liking to sing in public. Haymitch even goes as far to say that she gets so nervous, her throat closes up when asked to do so. I already absolutely adored her character, but that put things into a whole new perspective for me, and led to me really looking at her character in this new light that I hadn't previously considered. It made me wonder about how that aspect of her character would translate into other parts of her life, and thus this fic was born.

I think that people often mistake her as a Lucy Gray clone, and while the two characters certainly have a lot in common (and I adore them both) the two are very different, at least in my eyes. Lucy Gray is a singer, extremely social and good with people, excellent at communicating her ideas. When she performs, she does so publicly and with all the spectacle she can manage to draw eyes on her. But she didn't really take any kind of rebellious stance against the Capitol. She was a bit more of a neutral force, and part of that I think is that we don't really know her outside of how Snow sees her. Maybe she was a lot more anti-Capitol than Snow perceives her as. But she befriended Peacekeepers in Twelve and was willing to play nice with the Capitol in order to get home alive. Lucy Gray has this remarkable sense of self-preservation, and while I don't agree with the take that she's this "master manipulator" who never loved Snow, I think that she can read people extremely well and knows exactly how to play her cards to come out on top. I think that she did love Snow, but at the end of the day, she values her own safety and well-being over any romantic love. That's what was so terrifying to Snow about her. That's why she was determined to win the Games, why she ultimately fled from Snow in the woods.

But Lenore Dove is almost the opposite of this. She's too shy to sing in public. When she performs, it's on a piano in the background of a party or as a supporting instrument in a band. She keeps to herself at school, doesn't talk a lot in public but will talk with Haymitch for hours when alone. And you would think that her shyness would make her this meek doormat of a character, but it doesn't. She's got this incredible sense of self and a rebellious streak a mile wide. She refuses to play nice with Peacekeepers, she sabotages executions, she burns the Panem flag during big ceremonies, she engages in a physical fight with a Peacekeeper during the Reaping. She's even got this absolutely wonderful sassy side, shown by her "will" that she wrote where she just left everything to her geese. Haymitch mentions how Lenore Dove has no real sense of self-preservation like he does because no one relies on her to live like Sid and Ma rely on him. And when I read about her not liking to sing in public, it made her decision to sing in front of the whole District after Haymitch got a 1 in training so much more impactful.

I think about characters a lot in terms of their contradictions. I love a character who contradicts themselves in a way that adds to their character, and the Hunger Games books are full of these. I think that's what I love exploring the most in a lot of my more complex fics. And the opportunity to explore this particular contradiction in Lenore Dove's character? Too good to pass up. It was so refreshing to see a shy character who isn't insecure; she's just picky about how she opens up and expresses herself. How can you not write an overly long character-study smut fic about that?!

Sorry for the long ramble! Thank you so much for your lovely ask and for reading my silly little fic, your feedback honestly means the world to me <3 🥹

[justiceiscalling]

so i wanna get into batfam cause it seems fun. my introduction to this family is through some dceu movies and titans (show) only. is there any introductory ff or something? (don't wanna do comics idkw)

dude the way those were my introductions too (plus young justice)!!! i also refused comics in the beginning lol. first, disregard titans as a whole. i loved the show when i knew nothing of the batfam and dc in general but now that i do, i remember how wrong it was on so many parts.

i'm just going to do fic recs that i read and that i think helped me better understand some characters and then at the end i will add a 'quick' background on the 'lesser known' bats (duke, cass, and steph).

(nine fics plus an additional two crossovers)

here we go:

Worlds Saddest Breakfast Club by motelyfam

Summary:

Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack. Turns out he isn’t the only one awake.

my opinion: okay i love love love this one. it includes every 'major' batfam member save for barbara gordon (so really just the one's considered bruces kids + steph). i think this one has extremely accurate characterization, it’s jason todd-centric but includes a good amount of everyone else.

greatest of ease by ijustwanttodestroy (ONGOING)

Summary:

The times people meet Dick Grayson. Not Robin, not Nightwing — just Dick. (Or: Dick Grayson is a hero, has always been and will always be, no matter what name he takes.)

my opinion: i actually just read this during the 12 hour tik tok ban and this is so good. it's dick centric and is just how random people who've met him in passing perceive him. i love it so much. there's still one chapter left to be written, but since the last time it was updated was 2019, i don't think it'll be updated lol. but, i think the last chapter isn't really needed

A Mediation on Railroading by eggmacguffin

Summary:

When he ends up ditched in Atlanta after a fight with his dad, Tim decides to do the only sensible thing: Tell no one and make the 800 mile journey back to Gotham on his own. Because the "call Batman when you're in trouble" rule only applies when he's Robin, right?

my opinion: okay, honestly i haven't rad this in forever--a reread is long overdo--but i remember enjoying this. this one is on the longer side, nearly 25k words. i feel like a majority of people in this fandom have read this, in 2023 i could not go anywhere without being recommended this. i'm pretty sure this started me into my jason and tim as a duo spiral, which i have since left because i now really believe that tim and jason would lowkey be beefing non-stop but like in a brotherly way? which most fics surrounding them don't quite capture in the way i want, idk i'm picky lol.

but yeah. this fic=good for new fandom people.

though your eyes will need some time to adjust by popsunner

Summary:

“I think…” Stephanie takes a deep breath, “I think I’m bad.” “I don’t.” “So what, I’m just supposed to believe you?” “I am Batman.” Stephanie snorts, “Yeah, you are… but what if I’m still bad?” “Then I forgive you.” _______ Or: Stephanie and Bruce, figuring it out

my opinion: i actually haven't seen a lot of steph and bruce bonding fics that i like but i really enjoyed this one. i read this a year or two ago, forgot about it and reread it today. steph and bruces relationship is complicated and i like how this captures them.

dick grayson: a case study by writersagainstwritersblock

Summary:

Dick rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m mostly used to sparring with my little brothers, it’s kind of just habit, and I was having fun. I didn’t want the match to be over too quick.” “Too quick?” Derek asked, eyebrows raised. “I’m twice your size, kid.” Dick shrugged. “So’s Bruce and we’re pretty much tied at this point, or at least according to the score board the kids started to keep for Saturday spars.” “Saturday spars?” Derek repeated, following him towards the locker room. Dick flashed him a smile. “What? Don’t have any weird family traditions?” “Not ones that include hitting each other,” Derek said   OR The BAU gets a probationary profiler who is a little more than he appears at first glance. Or second. Or third. Just how many secrets can Dick Grayson be hiding from a team full of profilers?

my opinion: this one's a crossover but i love how it shows dicks relationship with his siblings, wally, and bruce. slades in here and so because of that theres implied sexual assault. the author has warnings on every chapter. i wouldn't read if you're not familiar with criminal minds though, it'll be really confusing

The Robin Generation by waterunderthebridge12

Summary:

"It's the dodging emotional conversations for me," Duke said. "Take the L." "Stop being such a cringefail edgelord," Tim said. "It's giving emotionally stunted," said Damian. "It's giving big yikes delulu."   In his ongoing search for better ways to fight crime, Tim comes up with a brand new method: bombarding bad guys with Gen Alpha slang. Recruiting Gen Alpha cusper Duke and full Gen Alpha Damian, shenanigans, chaos, and bonding ensue.

my opinion: i recommend this entire series, omg it's so unbelievably funny and good. great duke and damian bonding, great duke representation overall, and it also introduced me to the idea of duke hating dick and cass and jason just straight up beefing all the time which makes so much fucking sense. if you read anything on this list PLEASE read this.

Life Happens by Cdelphiki

Summary:

While walking home from an event at Wayne Enterprises, Tim and Damian are kidnapped and sent to an alternate dimension. In a world where superheroes are merely comic book characters and the idea of the multiverse is only a theory found within the pages of science fiction, how are Tim and Damian going to return home? How long will they be stranded on this strange Earth? And will the boys murder each other before they figure it out?

my opinion: by far one of the best tim and damian bonding things i read. it's 176k words so it doesn't make them bonding so straight forward, yk? not the usual 'they're both secretly jealous of each other' thing (which i lowkey love like i eat that shit up ngl), it's more complex. more 'i love you cause you're my brother, but i don't like you' which evolves into 'you're the only one around for me now' which turns into 'you're my favorite, please don't leave me.' i sob every time i read this story, it's so fucking heartbreaking. the other works in the exiled robins series are good but not needed to understand life happens.

All the Roofs of Uncertainty by Kieron_Duibhir

Summary:

For all the blood on his hands, Red Hood was never just a villain. And Nightwing never gives up on family, not for good. (Or: The one where Dick bleeds a lot and Jason argues with everybody.)

my opinion: i remember vaguely reading this when i first joined the fandom and loving it so much, it was my first introduction to jason and dick's relationship as brother that i thought actually made sense. if you like this one, check out Kieron_Duibhir's account, they're a really good author.

Martry Unmade by Here_we_go

Summary:

Jason Todd was loved best dead. Dead he was a saint. A martyr. Nothing was more sacred in the Church of Batman than martyrdom. - No one ever said that coming back from the dead was easy, not for the one who died and not for the people they left behind.

my opinion: catholic jason todd, my love. i'm always searching for catholic jason todd fics. i stumbled upon this a couple months ago and loved the fuck out of it. catholic jason is just so incredible to me, for some reason.

the entombment of idolization by make_your_own_world

Summary:

It turns out that growing up in the League of Assassins complicates your definition of self-worth. Or: Damian’s Saturday nights did not typically involve an underground sequence of caverns, a drugged brother, and a bloodthirsty monster snapping at their heels, but he was nothing if not adaptable. Or: If I am all you want to be, and you are all I want to be, why together are we not enough? (Can be read as a standalone)

my opinion: i did not read the other works in this series and i understood everything. this has tim and damian bonding which i will always look for, i'm pretty sure i stumbled upon this christmas of 2023 and i have loved it ever since.

okay that's it for the recs. if you want more heres the link to my bookmarks.

some have OC's or x readers, and i think theres one or two non batfam in there. still, feel free to look if you want. i also have some tim and damian bonding ones posted (Keep hanging on, Praise from a mother, Trust from a bother, the graves i dig series, and Growing apart), i don't think any of my other works will be of any use if you're just trying to get into the batfam because the rest are x readers or x OC's, save for one which is on a HEAVY hiatus lol.

quick background (as promised):

since your introduction was through DCEU and titans, im assuming you have no clue who duke thomas, cassandra cain, and stephanie brown are. duke is bruce’s latest foster kid, he’s black, his parents were rendered insane because of joker, he’s the vigilante signal, and he’s often forgotten by lots of the fandom. cassandra is one of bruce’s adopted kids (i believe) she came after tim but she’s jason’s age. she’s the daughter of lady shiva and david cain. typically she’s depicted as mute in fanon, but in comics she can speak her english is just very broken. depending on the fic, cass will be either one of those three vigilantes: batgirl, black bat, or orphan. stephanie isn’t bruce’s kid, she’s kind of an honorary kid though. she used to date tim but they’ve broken up in comics (tim is bi and dating bernard, as seen in the titans show), many people have her date cassandra. it’s a VERY popular ship in the batfam fandom, i think. stephanie is the vigilante spoiler though she was previously the vigilante batgirl and the only girl robin.

batgirl and robin are passed down. all the (main) robins in order are: dick, jason, tim, stephanie, then back to tim, and then damian (im pretty sure tim is robin in comics rn alongside damian but most fics have him as red robin). some people include maps in that but i normally don’t. batgirl has only three: barbara gordon, cassandra cain, and stephanie brown. then there’s also tiffany fox, who im pretty sure is said to be batgirl in the future? i’ve yet to see her in many fics and i think i read one comic that had her but that was forever ago.

[kevin-the-bruyne]

Sometimes having horrible memory is rereading whispered secrets for the fourth time and still being deeply affected like wow wow Wow what , mmm delicious, this is spectacular. Special shoutout to my guy “Do you ditch your friends to come see me?” “Don’t do it again”, he makes my kidney want to jump out each time without fail

not an ask I have things to say ت

well anon you seem to have struck a moment of some potential energy in need of a motivating push. I promise I am writing the epilogue however, it is still one (1) page long kzdfjskdfh. I'll get there, they will have minor disagreements and some honest communication and then romantic sappy sex. there is even an outline!!!!

BUT I have unearthed some whispered secrets never before seen goodies. These are scrapped scenes from earlier drafts of the story. By earlier draft I mean the draft of chapter 3 that was written before the first episode aired or sometime that week according to my draft revision dates lol and boy does it seem like I was going wild places with this lol

I think I should update to AO3 but I am too scared of people being mad at me for not updating the epilogue djfsfhglfjgh

There are two scene here under the cut for now:

Scene 1:

This is the exact start of the current chapter three through to the end of their first time and of them hanging out at the balcony. I put this here in full because SO much of it is similar that I had to pull up the published chapter and compare to be like why did I even bother changing these little details? But re-reading the whole thing I think I get why, curious as to what you think since you just read it

----

Kid: Mister, can I come over?

Alan finds the message odd. Be it the hour, the lack of frills or that Kaipa has never initiated a meetup - always so happy to wait for him - but Alan can tell that this is a request he should fulfill. 

It’s not even a full ten minutes after he responds with a ‘yes’ that there is a soft double knock at the front door. For a second, he’s worried that Wen has returned home but remembers that Wen would just use his key. Alan opens the door.

It’s Kaipa, standing in front of him in a way he hasn’t seen since the first night they met. Eyes vacant in the remnants of a storm that’s been through them, leaving them red and puffy. The tip of his nose is red like he’s been rubbing on it and his hair crumpled like he’s been pulling at it.

He moves back so Kaipa can walk in. Kaipa has been here before on multiple occasions, anytime really that Wen was scheduled to be away overnight, so he trusts that Kaipa can find his way inside while he locks the front door.

But when he turns Kaipa is still standing there, not even having taken off his sandals, looking at him intently. 

‘What?’ Alan asks a little unsurely and Kaipa stays silent. He keeps looking at him for a few long moments before he is pushing Alan back against the door, pressing his body close and taking his lips in a kiss that can only be described as ferocious.

Alan cups Kaipa’s jaw and tries to control the pace, tries to bring them back from whatever seems to be building in Kaipa’s chest. But Kaipa only grips Alan’s wrists and the obstruction away from chasing his kisses, pushes it against the door behind them.

Unable to calm Kaipa down through his kisses, Alan finally puts his free hand on Kaipa’s chest and pushes firmly. Kaipa moves away from him, his eyes still closed and brows furrowed, his fingers still curled tight around Alan’s wrist. 

When he opens his eyes, it’s the anguish in them that shatters Alan first, ‘can’t you do it for one night?’ Alan is too scared to ask what he means and he hopes that Kaipa will take a hint from his silence and not elaborate, because he knows, he knows what people who look like that ask for. 

Kaipa continues anyway, ‘love me.’

Sincere and straightforward to a fault.

Alan’s first instinct is to refuse but the truth is that he doesn’t know how. Alan’s heart feels like it’s caught in his throat, the rise and fall of his chest the only signs of it still beating. In the end, the silence stretches too long and Kaipa lowers his gaze, releasing Alan from the intensity of it just as he releases Alan’s wrist from his iron grip.

When Kaipa moves away, Alan feels the loss like a fresh wound. And perhaps what he really wants to say is: ‘I wish I knew how.’

He’s gripped by an impulse he forgot he possessed. 

To hold on.

He turns them around so that it’s Kaipa pressed against the door, drinking in the frenzy of Alan’s kisses. Alan forgets the seams of where their bodies meet; Kaipa is pressed so close, with his grip so tight around him. His fingers dig into Alan’s back with a searing ache.

They part when their lungs start to burn and lips start going numb from being fused together too long. Even then, Alan only moves away just so, held close by Kaipa’s fingers gently scratching at the hairs on his nape, breaths mingling.

Kaipa finally starts, ‘can I-

‘-Yes.’ Alan responds before he can make the request.

Kaipa is surprised at being cut off, and even more so by the answer. Even though Kaipa manages to suppress his need to confirm with a disbelieving, ‘really?’, his eyes still dart down in pleased shyness.

Kaipa buries his face in the crook of Alan’s neck and takes a deep breath, ‘Alan,’ he whispers followed by a deep shuddering breath that reverberates through them. It brings about a release somewhere within Alan as well, unclenching just enough for Kaipa to take a peek inside.

Alan places a messy kiss on his temple, ‘Hmm?’

‘Can you take me to bed?’ Kaipa’s words are slow and careful as though he’s afraid someone will come and snatch them away. 

Alan bends a little to tap on the back of Kaipa’s thigh, Kaipa gets the hint and hops into Alan’s arms, his legs wrapped tightly around Alan’s waist. Kaipa looks right at him, eyes tired but adoring, and Alan finds himself unable to look away, the attention oddly comforting as he carries Kaipa to bed.

Permitted within the fantasies of this one night, Alan pretends that it’s theirs, full of warmth and laughter instead of the cold emptiness it wraps him in every other night. Pretends that the joining of their bodies is an adequate proxy of the love that Kaipa seeks. *

Later, they stand huddled next to each other on Alan’s balcony, sharing a cigarette and looking out at the skyline. Alan absently massages at Kaipa’s lower back. He apologizes softly when Kaipa winces but Kaipa only shakes his head and presses his nose to Alan’s jaw. 

It has been a while for him and he might have gotten a little too excited, intoxicated by the sweetness of Kaipa’s kisses, the thrill of the little gasps breathed into his ear and the feeling of home between Kaipa’s legs that he hadn’t thought he would ever feel again. Alan had wanted to take and Kaipa had given it all up so sweetly.

Alan sees Kaipa’s lashes flicker quickly as he blinks and then trains that soft but intent gaze on Alan’s face, ‘do you love him?’ Kaipa asks curious, shivering like he can’t help himself, can’t hold back how much he wants to know. Alan wonders if he should draw the line here on the liberties that Alan will allow tonight.

‘I have never thought of my feelings for him as anything but love.’ Alan finally decides to say, he blames the way his head swims pleasantly in the nicotine rush for his undue honesty. Alan watches as Kaipa blinks again like he’s confused, then laughs. He presses his thumb on Alan’s cheek, rubs a line right at the bottom edge of his glasses, ‘you would do that,’ Kaipa says, ‘just decide to love a person like that.’

Alan is surprised at the comment, at the way Kaipa talks like he knows Alan. Alan doesn’t know when it could have happened but the familiar gentleness in Kaipa’s smile and the little hickey forming on his neck in the shape of Alan’s teeth, makes him think that Kaipa just might. Kaipa might know who he is.

‘Doesn’t mean I can,’ Alan replies and even though his voice doesn’t waver, it grates along the sharp edges of his fractured heart.

‘You can.’ Kaipa responds instantly like he always does when Alan says anything negative about himself. He trails his thumb down Alan’s sharp cheek until the pad of his thumb comes to rest softly at the corner of Alan’s lips, ‘you do.’ Voice quick and sure.

Of course Kaipa doesn’t know him. 

He’s just like this. 

Always so sincere. So ready to draw the silver lining.

Kaipa will say these things to anyone who stands before him feeling sorry for themselves. He enjoys Kaipa’s platitudes more this way, it comforts him that he doesn’t have to earn them even though it means they hold no value.

‘Doesn’t mean that he will love me back.’ Alan says around another drag of the cigarette.

Kaipa’s face falls suddenly, but only a little and just for a second before he turns it back up once more. It’s different Alan notes and once more he’s surprised that he knows this, that Kaipa has smiles that bare his heart out for the world to see and smiles that hide it.

‘But that isn’t the point, is it?’ Kaipa says. He takes the cigarette from Alan, takes a long drag and immediately starts coughing, Alan laughs, rubs his back. Kaipa looks at him when he finally stops and the moment stretches between them until Alan has the urge to ask, ‘what?’

‘Mister, will you hold me?’ Kaipa says, and he purses his lips in a little plea that catches Alan off guard. Alan wonders if this is yet another one of those liberties Kaipa takes that he’s better off refusing. They’re pressed so close already, yet Kaipa wants to be closer still.

Alan slides his hand from Kaipa’s back and curls around his torso. Kaipa tucks himself into the little space that opens up between Alan’s body and the railing of the balcony. He wants to be surprised at how easily he gives in to Kaipa tonight.

But he also can’t remember the last time he’d refused Kaipa anything.

Or the last time that Kaipa asked.

Alan is tempted to ask after Kaipa’s own unfulfilled love.

But then the night breeze is cool against their clammy skin and Alan’s heart feels settled wrapped up in the warmth of their fantasy.

So Alan just holds him.

----

Scene 2:

This is how I had Alsn find out Kaipa loves uncle after he’s already ghosted and comes back to take care of Alan. And honestly, I am BAFFLED. where the fuck was I going with this? This was the first scene Alan realizes that he's actually in love with Gaipa???? And then what?? I was expected this Alan, the beat down loser (affectionate), to go fight for him????

----

Alan is surprised to see his secretary bring in a familiar face he’d had dinner with just the night before. It’s been a little more than a week since Alan’s little outburst at Jim’s restaurant.

Kaipa darts his eyes down in embarrassment as Alan gestures to the seat in front of him. Kaipa’s face is unnervingly stoic as he hands Alan the documents the secretary had prepared for him for Alan to sign.

Kaipa isn't keen on letting it be known that he knows Alan, let alone knows him enough to have had dinner with him every night the past week, so Alan doesn’t push.

Alan signs and pushes the contract back towards Kaipa, ‘did my secretary go over the terms of the loan with you?’

Kaipa nods.

‘And you know that if you default, we’ll repossess your collateral.’

Kaipa nods and signs on the pages that Alan flips over for him. When they’re done Kaipa thanks him and starts stuffing the papers he’d received into his little satchel. Alan can’t help himself because he recognizes the property on file, ‘that’s your house and you will give the money to,’ Alan pauses because doesn’t know if he can really utter the name.

‘Uncle Jim,’ Kaipa finishes for him.

There’s so many thoughts swirling in Alan’s head and he can’t decide on what he’s really allowed to feel about this. What does Kaipa owe him after all? He settles on confusion because he has to know why and he’s about to ask when it suddenly clicks together for him.

‘You love him.’

Kaipa nods even though it was rhetorical.

Ah

He knows this feeling well. 

Heartbreak.

And it always seems to happen just like this, in the quiet of everyday life, slowly amassing a mountain of evidence that Alan can never seem to recognize. He feels wave after wave of shame wash over him and he marvels at how his heart can still feel heavy, how his eyes can still manage to prickle with unshed tears.

‘But he doesn’t love you.’ Alan remarks in his quiet panic. More than anything Alan wants to understand, he thinks. He wants to understand what someone has to do; to be loved like this. 

‘He doesn’t have to.’ Kaipa responds, his quiet determination holding Alan hostage in his seat.

And perhaps what he should have said when Kaipa asked him if he loved Wen is that he doesn’t want to.

[saralovesyouu]

Hello, :) I hope ur well. Can I pls request a comfort fic with Saeyoung and a depressed f!reader? Let's say reader is not the type to cry at all, like he has never seen her cry because she keeps it all bottled up even though she's in a lot of pain. I hope that's ok. Thank u ^^

Don’t cry, I’m here. — Saeyoung x fem! reader

Of course! And I’m doing well besides the 3 hours of sleep I’ve gotten, thanks. I hope you are too. I was confused about the gender of the reader, so I was rereading that a few times cause I was like. What? But when I read it the fourth time I was like OH they meant female reader. I thought that was funny I’m a little dumb, but anyways! Also yeah no that’s fine, I hope you enjoy it!

This is very much proofread.

I didn’t want to specify the reader’s issues cause of depression cause I don’t want to be like “oh the reader is upset cause of this” and then for you to have meant a different thing, so I tried to write it so that the reader’s reason for breaking down so suddenly wouldn’t be.. specific.

Warnings : Not much, reader’s reason for breaking down is not specific, reader is suggested to be female, a bit of comfort.

Saeyoung was sure he had you figured out. From small details about you in person, to large pieces of information of you online. He memorized every freckle and mole on your body, every password to all of your accounts.

So that’s why it surprised him when he saw you—his beautiful girlfriend—crying.

How did it get to this point? Well to him there was only one conclusion.

You were bottling it all up. How could he not notice?

It should’ve been obvious enough whenever you said you didn’t want to eat cause you lost your appetite, or when you seemed a tad more exhausted than usual, or even just when you started to space out whenever he was talking.

All the signs were there, right in front of him too.

So why didn’t he catch on?

Why didn’t he catch the way your eyes seemed to be unusually dull? Why didn’t he see the way you seemed to not want to get out of bed, refusing and blaming it on your fatigue? Why did he let it go far, why was he so blind to see you were in pain?

He of all people understands what that type of pain feels like, what it’s like to mask it and bottle it up, so why didn’t he know you were feeling this way?

So it was no surprise how speechless he was when he got home to see you crying on the bathroom floor.

He stayed shocked, standing in the doorway seeing you crying your heart out. Saeyoung didn’t stay frozen in dismay, rushing to your side.

“Hey, honey, no-no don’t cry what’s wrong?” He panicked, he wasn’t sure what to do.

“‘ts just too much to handle Saeyoung..” you cried, clinging onto him for the sake of your sanity.

“I don’t know what to do.. I thought my problems are my problems and they should stay my problems—“ you hiccuped “—so I wouldn’t have to bother you or anyone else about it, but it’s just too much pressure—I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t want to be burden on any of you.”

Saeyoung felt his heart shatter when he heard how pained your voice sounded, holding you close as he hushed you “Hey, don’t apologize. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” was what he asked, but really he was thinking why didn’t he see it sooner?

Usually he’d know what to do, how to comfort you. But he’s never seen you like this before. Hell, he has never seen you cry before. So he’s so thrown off on what to do.

“You were always—“ you tried to talk, but your words only came out in choked out sobs so Saeyoung interrupted you.

“Shh.. shh it’s okay my love. I’m just..” he paused, unsure what the right words to say were “I’m here now, tell me what’s wrong?”

And so you spilled. All your troubles and worries, every single doubt and problem you’ve been experiencing. And he sat there, holding you close to him as if you would slip through his hands like sand—and listened to every word you had to say.

After you had finished, your rambling now incoherent due to your sobs, he gently rubbed soothing circles onto your back. “It’s okay. I’m here now. You’re okay.” He cooed, hoping that would help in comforting you.

But you weren’t calming down, and he wasn’t sure what to do. He was thinking of texting, or maybe even calling another RFA member in hopes they would know, but he somehow already knew they’d be as clueless as he was now. So all he could do was try to calm you down.

“Hey,” Saeyoung whispered, pulling you back up by your shoulders, your teary eyes staring right back into his golden ones “can you breathe with me?”

Yeah, he thought. That should be the first step in calming her down, right?

“O.. Okay.” You hiccuped.

“Good, okay. Breathe in,” he inhaled, waiting for you to inhale with him as well, and after a few moments he exhaled “breathe out.”

It took a while, but eventually you weren’t crying as bad anymore.

“Okay,” Saeyoung mumbled “okay.”

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice was soft, and low—in almost a whisper-like way. Which heavily contrasted his usually ‘happy-go-lucky’ nature.

“I think so.” Was all you managed to croak out in response, hiccuping a bit. But at least you weren’t sobbing to the point of being unresponsive.

He was still very much confused. You always seemed so cheerful, laughing at his jokes, teasing Yoosung with him. You never cried, or if you did, never in front of him.

Saeyoung wants to take care of you, the way you did with him when he tried to push you away.

“Do you..” he paused, propping himself up so now he was leaning against the wall “..do you need anything? Water? A snack?”

“Can you just stay here with me?” You asked, your eyes fluttering closed, a bit worn out from crying so much “Just for a bit.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding “yeah I can do that.”

And at least, you thought, you at least had some form of peace in his arms. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, and for the first time you didn’t feel alone, no longer wallowing in the depths of your depression. Cause now, now you had Saeyoung.

And he was going to make sure you, his precious girlfriend, would never feel like this ever again. Or at least be there for you whenever you fell into that deep rabbit hole again.

But one thing was for sure, he would make sure you never have to face this type of issue on you own.

————

Bonus!!

“Saeyoung..” you whispered, still curled up in a fetal position as he wrapped himself around you.

“Yeah?” He hummed in reply, tugging you closer to him, as if to remind you that he’s still there.

“Thank you.” you chuckled, your voice was quiet, but he still managed to hear you.

Saeyoung was about to speak again, when he heard you talk “You shouldn’t have seen me like that. But still, thank you for staying with me.”

He was a bit surprised. What did you mean he shouldn’t have seen you like that?

“It’s nothing.” Was all he murmured, snuggling his face deeper into the crevice of your neck.

“You sure you don’t have anything else to do?” You asked, then adding “No work to be done? I don’t want you getting in trouble just because I’m .. like this.”

Saeyoung chuckled, making a faint ‘pssh’ sound “I’m sure I can take a break from the computer if it means making sure your okay.”

All you did was hum in reply, nodding in confirmation.

“Hey (Y/N)?” He called, propping himself up on his elbows, looking over to see your face.

“Yeah?” You replied, eyes flickering to meet his.

“You know I love you, right?” He murmured in more of a question, but you knew he only meant to assure you.

“Yeah, I know.” you nodded turning around to be face to face with him.

“I love you too.”

(A/N) : This is about maybe 900 words? Maybe a bit more than that. I was pretty reluctant on posting this, not cause of anything with the request but the way I had written it was kinda ehhh to me. Y’know? I’m not good with comfort but this was fun to try! I really hope you liked it, if you didn’t please do not hesitate to lmk so I can fix anything and everything for you, but I hope you’re well too! And I’m also sorry for not publishing this sooner, as I said before I’m a bit insecure of my writing hesitant to post this. But I’m going to, just cause I want to see if there’s anything I can fix. I’m always open to criticism! That being said, thank you for reading this, and again—if you see that anything need fixing or something is not to your liking lmk!!

[cheolism-archive]

Hiii I recently became a Carat and as an avid fanfic reader, I was wondering if there are any stories you can recommend!! I have no member preference, as long as there is an interesting story (longer the better, if there are chapters even better). And i love me a good smut 👀

hi sweetheart!! first and foremost, i recommend checking out the other authors of svthub. here you'll find a variety of svt writers!!! as of right now we're doing our spring collab, so def check that out!!! note that i only have a few members on here (gyu, joshie, hoshi, kwannie)? i didn't realize until i finished that i only had these four???? idk if this is my subconscious trying to tell me something but i'll continue to ignore it!!!

my personal faves are all reblogged under fic rec, but here's some that have stood out to me since reading~

spoiled by @wonusite ; KMG

"summary: you have never been spoiled, but that changes after you meet the man your mother is going to marry."

it's got four parts and is so fucking disgusting and wonderful it's ridiculous. it's seriously a marvel to humanity tbh and when aliens come and ask for a relic to prove that humans deserve to be spared from their alien wrath, i'll give them these fics <3

acouasm by @angelwoozi ; HJS

"n.) a ringing noise in your head — and it's just three words of promise whispered by yours truly during moments of sorrow, or moments of joy. the whisper also lives in the crevices of your mind during moments of pleasure, when he makes love to you, his true love."

it isn't necessarily long, but it is so fucking sweet and artful? in my tags i described it as truly belonging to the golden hour, and tbh i still stand by it. it's incredibly tender and freya's way with words reminds me of ancient greek and roman statues; there's an era in art called neoclassical, where artists mostly focus on depicting mythos and creatures from greek, roman, and christian lore. like, an angel with outstretched wings, her shawl expanding and wrapping around her, heaven's spotlight surrounding.

to the brim by @toruro ; KMG

"description: all your sweet husband wants is to put a baby into you—is that so bad?"

LISTEN mika writes some of the filthiest shit, i'm not even kidding. idk how her brain comes up with some of this stuff? somehow she KNOWS all of my deepest kinks and secrets and just writes them like they're NOTHING? truly a menace to society and we should all be on our knees thanking her.

bluff and nonsense by @thepixelelf ; KSY

"

“Soonyoung? Yeah I know him, you should too. He’s on the uni’s dance crew, and ever since he joined them, their popularity’s skyrocketed. I’ve met him a few times, great guy — got a tendency to run his mouth but hey, no one’s perfect. He’s smart anyways, probably knows how to deal with the consequences, right?”

or

Soonyoung never thought one bluff could lead to so much nonsense."

this fic fuckign RUINED ME. the others don't have as much plot as this, but even months after reading it still remains one of my favorite fics. i've been meaning to reread it? but i just haven't gotten to it, but i know i'll still feel the heartache and betrayal all over again, it's just that good. like it's so good you can feel the stabbing in your heart and tummy :(

vanilla by @milfgyuu ; HJS

"Summary: Joshua has a secret but perhaps it’s not really a secret at all. Maybe you’ve just refused to see it in an effort to keep your feelings at bay."

probably the dirtiest fic on this list. it's absolutely wild. there was NO preparing for everything in this fic? it's insane. absolutely insane fr. like -- even reading the tags can't prepare you. reader wasn't prepared and i really don't think ANYONE ever could have been.

stay-at-home husband/dad mingyu by @celestiababie

it's what it says! stay at home gyu who is willing to help his darling breadwinner spouse with whatever they need :) it's got multiple parts and such, and it's so cruel that it exists because it'll occupy my thoughts every once in a while and then i just have to stand there thinking about desperate little gyu whining while a teacher is talking. will change your life, 10/10 recommend

pussy sport by @duhnova ; BSK

"synopsis: leave it up to boo seungkwan to almost suffocate between your thighs, eat you out till you’re crying, and to figure out a new kink of his."

when i turn 108 and am getting ready to walk off the edge of the earth, and they ask me my secret to living so long i'll think back to this fic and smile, and then suddenly i'll be brought back to life. it's this serious. every once in a while someone on the svthub server remembers it exists again and goes feral. and i completely fucking agree, we should be going feral over boo seungkwan 24/7. to not be feral over boo seungkwan and this fic is a cardinal sin, and not the sexy kind.

[clouds-rambles]

hello!~ o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

can i request headcanons for kaeya, diluc, childe, and venti on what they would while their s/o dies in their arms? (if thats okay with u <3)

thank u sm! :))

BESTIE THE PAIN I FEEL RN!!! Omw to make hurt some of my faves hope you enjoy <3

Also guys I’ve been here for a day how are there almost 50 of you following?!

Pairings; (Separate) Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Venti x reader

Warning(s); hurt, big hurty, reader death, vague wound description, cursing, talk about dead bodies

Keep reading under the cut!

Kaeya

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were meant to live forever with him. You were supposed to grow old with him and become a parent to your future children. You were-

“Kaeya” you choke out smiling at your partner above you. The man shakes his head mentally pleading with you to not die “Kaeya I will always be on the wind” you tell him, a shaky, bloody hand raised to his cheek to weekly caress it

“Please” he pleads “Please don’t die on me [name]” you smile at him feeling the breaths in your lungs disappear

“I’m sorry Kae--ya” you apologise before passing away in his arms

He doesn’t move for a long time. He doesn’t feel for a long time. The one person he could share his secrets and his love to gone. Away with the wind

Kaeya doesn’t remember the last time he cried, but he’ll remember this one. 

Your beaten, bruised, broken, dead, and beautiful body slumped in his arms as his tears fall from his face as he feels an absence in his heart

How is he supposed to live on if this is the pain he feels right now?

Jean eventually stumbles upon Kaeya out in the wilds, still clutched to your now cold and even more lifeless body

Jean manages to get the man up with your body held close to his chest

“Jean, I can’t, I can’t let them go” he pleads as if he’s waiting for you to simply wake up in his arms

“Kaeya...” Jean says in a concerned tone having never seen him in such a state, even he seemed to quickly recover from his fathers death

Eventually Jean coaxed Kaeya to go back to the city and leave your body in the hands of the sisters. Where they dressed you up and prepared a funeral service for you

The funeral was larger than Kaeya was expecting, you had affected a many more people than he realised from your small jobs around the city. Kaeya can’t help but be awed at how many people you’ve helped while you were in Mond

The usual chatter of Mondstat is quiet and in a time of grieving for about a week or so, many people have wonderful memories of you and Kaeya seems to be collecting them all, that and bunches of flowers. Many of which find themselves laying on your tombstone as Kaeya tells you about his day

A month passes and it seems like everything's back to normal, Kaeya is back to his outgoing self. He spends more nights at the tavern, but even Diluc doesn’t have the heart to cut him off. 

Jean seems to pick up on the smallest things, goddamnit Jean, the extra nights at the tavern, the eyebags, the weeping she can hear from his room. In it’s own right is heart-breaking, the acting Grandmaster cannot imagine what it’s like to be actually experiencing that kind of pain

-

Diluc

No, not like this

You had both decided that night to join each other in your little vigilante escapade. Which was fine you had both done this before, but tonight resulted in something very different

Here you are, head on Dilucs lap. This could be considered romantic, and often was, were it not for the fact you felt like you choked up a mixture of your lung and your bloody supply

“Diluc” you speak with a much worse for wear voice, the red-head looks into your eyes, eyes already gaining moisture. A similar scene has befallen him before, a Diluc knows how this ends

“Please” he pleads his voice wavering “Please don’t leave me” he chokes back a sob and tears fall off his face the salt hitting your own

“I love you so much” you start, Diluc shakes his head. Must you hurt him so with last words? “Don’t blame yourse-” another set of hacking befalls you as you lose more blood

“Please” he pleads again as the grip you had on his arm goes slack indicating your loss of life

Diluc screams, he cries and he hugs you close. He screams into the air of Mondstat until his voice hurts and he cries until all he’s doing is dry sobbing and he holds you close until you’re broken body is pried from his own broken mind

A wondering Jean heard his screams into the night sky and hereby answered them. She never expected to see Diluc, still in his vigilante getup, crying over your body

She calls for more guards who take your body from his and Jean helps Diluc get back to the estate. At one point during the walk Jean can feel DIluc shaking and hyperventilating. So they stand for a moment, Jean holds and comforts the wine-master before they move again

Jean has never seen such emotion from Diluc before, and she wholeheartedly hopes she’ll never have to see it again. Seeing Diluc so raw and rife with emotion is enough to make anyone cry. And Jean nearly did on more than one occasion.

Your funeral is small, much to Dilucs request and really only were attended by the estate and Jean. Diluc didn’t want to cry again in such a large audience

Though the maids often hear pained sobs coming from Dilucs room as he contemplates and often blames himself for what had transpired. Maids daren’t speak up about what they hear though, Diluc’s pain is more than understandable

Diluc throws himself into work opting to man the bar most days of the week and fighting for the city as often as he can. People around him are more than concerned

Diluc’s stoic nature seems to be intensified now, not wanting to let another person in and die in his arms. He’s seen enough death for his life and wishes not to lose more loved ones

Everything seems to have moved back to what life was before you arrived in your life, depressive, monotonous, boring, mundane for the most part and sad. So very sad

He wishes for a day where his heart isn’t strife with grief, but he doubts that day will not be coming anytime soon

-

Childe

You grin up at him, feeling close to naught pain coming from the gaping wound thanks to the excess of adrenaline that’s pumping through your body

“Childe” you say the smile still on your lips in an attempt at not making the situation as dark and horrific as it is. Childe speaks your name in return

“I love you” you tell him mustering the strength to cup the mans cheek, who immediately nuzzles into it. The situation almost doesn’t feel real to him. He’s going to be shaken awake by a very unwounded you in just a moment and inform him he’s having a nightmare

But that moment doesn’t come. Nor do any words come from you. Your slow rhythms of your heart remind you that he’s still got time, but you’ve expended all your energy. Your smile you’re wearing seems to be dropping

“I love you [name], I love you so much, you are everything I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you” he rambles bringing your body to his chest

“Live for--- me” you sputter out into his chest, a dying wish that Childe isn’t too sure he can uphold. Is it really living if he’s an empty vessel.

You go limp in his arms and he can no longer sense your heartbeat. Death had finally laid claim to you

Childe sits with you for hours, you’d expect him to be wailing like a banshee if you knew his personality but that’s rather not the case. Sobbing quietly is a better word for what happens. Most of his sobs and hacks for air are hidden in your hair. He pulled your body to his shoulder just to weep

Eventually he finds himself mustering the courage to walk back to Liyue Harbour. You firmly held in his arms. He knows that if he walks too plainly the Millelith would pry and ask too many questions for his fragile heart to answer

Childe ends up barging into the wangsheng funeral parlour, which surprises Zhongli a little. He’s about to go on a rant to Childe about how he must book an appointment, until he sees your lifeless body in his arms

The funeral is arranged quickly and neatly. There aren’t many people who attend, Childe is okay with that, he secretly wants to see his family and cry on their shoulder a bit

Instead he opts for a letter, which arrives to the family tear stained and lacking the usual penmanship ‘I’m sorry, you won’t be able to see [name] after all. They passed away not too long ago...’ he basically writes your arbitrary in the letter. And his whole heart is in every word he writes

Determined not to let anybody in Childe finds himself in a pattern, when he’s not throwing himself into battles he’s doing paper work or yelling at his subordinates and when he’s not doing that he’s doing his weekly fight with the traveller. Childe gets next to no sleep and instead opts to reading and rereading every letter and note you’ve ever given him

If Childe passes out at his desk nobody bothers him either in fear of getting yelled at by the harbinger or an understanding of losing a loved one

They never said being a harbinger was fulfilling work. Yet, he let himself believe that he could be fulfilled and content with a lover. What a shameful lie

-

Venti

He’s awfully quiet. He hasn’t experienced death in so long. Especially one he thought would be forever.

He couldn’t even get to you to hear your last words. Ironic isn’t it? He hadn’t heard that guys last words either. And yet this pains him so much more

Sure mortal lives are fleeting but he was certain he had more time with you. More time to see you grow old, more time to put off your inevitable mortality. More time to-

He’s hyperventilating, Venti’s body shakes as he finds nothing to ground himself not even the person he loves so dear is there for him. He feels like he could explode, breaths caught in his throat refusing to surface and come up for air. Despite being an immortal archon, the breaths that refuse to surface don’t fail to make him feel like he’s choking

A bard he is. And one that knows every song from the past, present and future. Suddenly the pained songs from the future make sense to him. He knew what was written. A love lost

Suddenly he finds himself crying and hunched over your deceased form making promises to the wind that he’ll never forget you. Much like he’ll ever forget that bard

He isn’t sure how long has passed but he’s still sobbing over your form, there aren’t many tears left for him to cry but he can’t find himself stopping. He feels like they’ll never stop. 

Maybe he could lay beside you and sleep for another thousand years. But that would only delay the inevitable. The inevitable sinking feeling.

Maybe it was his fault for letting himself fall in love with a mortal, but in the moment he could truly see you living life with him. He could see a marriage, children. He wanted you to have it all.

Damn celestia and all things above for not letting you ascend, at least when he inevitably ascends you’ll be there to greet him. Curse that and your mortality

Jean eventually stumbles upon him during a recon mission to find him covering your body in various flowers, a crown made of cecelias don your head. He’s quiet, but he’s saying goodbye. Who would blame him? Jean doesn’t interrupt him and only wishes you a farewell

News of your death spread around town like wildfire, your grave donned with more flowers than Venti can count. He almost feels bad about not doing a public service after seeing how many people are truly in mourning

Diluc doesn’t push Venti to pay his growing tab no matter how much he should. And Diluc doesn’t say no to Venti singing his happy tunes in the tavern

It feels like his life has retuned to normal. Though Jean can’t help but look out the library window to see Venti sat atop his statue with an expression, as Jean can only guess, of sadness.

Venti finds himself going back to an old schedule again but he can’t miss the nagging feeling of somethings missing. The something being you

Sometimes he half expects you to hug him from behind, or join him up at the statue, or kiss him on his nose, or-

Venti can’t quite comprehend how he feels, he just knows there’s a hole in his heart where you belonged. And he doesn’t want to let anyone find their way into there

He doesn’t want to lose again

It’s happened too much

[iglooracing]

that double ferrari dnf in baku was so rough, but seb did so well!! honestly can these guys just keep swapping success it’s ridiculous can’t they just be happy together!! some more hurt/comfort (obviously), a lot of praise, and perhaps a new term of endearment…

// azerbaijan gp 2022 //

charles finally leaves his team debrief feeling exhausted and no less frustrated than he was when it started. he’s slowly starting to feel his composure chip away, never mind that he’s feeling the championship slip through his fingers. his first real shot and it’s fading like a mist.

he hears the phrase “don’t waste it” in the back of his mind, he sees those words so clearly written in black ink in his minds eye. he swallows around a lump in his throat and climbs in the car back to his hotel. he closes his eyes and imagines he’s not here.

charles doesn’t pull his phone out of his pocket until he’s flopped onto the bed in his room. he has a handful of messages, but he sees some of them are from seb.

when he opens seb’s messages he sees there are five, the first two sent shortly after each other, the other three more spaced apart.

hey, i heard what happened and then saw before i left track. i’m so sorry. and you were doing so well! are you still in debrief or have you left?

i’m assuming you’re still in debrief. i hope it’s not so bad and that you’re doing okay. i’m very proud of you for your race today and how you’ve been persevering. even though you shouldn’t have to <3

i’m going out for dinner with the team tonight, but i don’t know how long we’ll be. i’ll call you, if you don’t mind waiting up for me? i’d like to hear your voice and know you’re okay.

i know i already told you i’m very proud of you but i need to say it again because i am and you’re amazing.

ich liebe dich, mein stern.

charles rereads the messages at least five or six times, hoping they will bring him some comfort until he can hear seb properly, not just his voice in charles’ head, and feel blanketed by his gentle voice.

he doesn’t necessarily feel okay right now, and he doesn’t exactly feel proud of himself, but he does feel very loved and of course he’ll wait up for seb.

as he rereads, his eyes keep landing on the word “stern,” it’s a new one that he can’t remember seb ever calling him. a quick google search shows that it means “star” and charles has no idea why that makes him want to cry, but he does know that seb is the sweetest man he’s ever known.

a little over an hour later charles is still in bed when his phone rings. he picks it up after the first ring.

“salut,” charles hums softly. his exhaustion has been catching up with him this past hour as he wasted time on his phone, waiting for seb to call.

“mm, hallo, liebchen,” seb hums back.

seb’s voice is a bit hoarse, it must have been a good dinner with his team, but it’s still gentle and sweet. it’s like honey, charles thinks.

“how was your dinner?” charles asks as he snuggles further under the covers, more than content to be lulled to sleep by seb’s sweet voice and his ramblings or praise or whatever he wants to grace charles with this evening. charles thinks he could listen to seb recite the dictionary and he’d listen, enrapt.

“it was good,” seb replies and charles can hear the happiness laced in his voice as he continues to share details of the food, the drinks, and the company.

“how was your evening?” seb asks when he’s finished a story about something one of his mechanics said that made both him and charles laugh. charles loves seb for making him laugh right now.

“i’ve had better evenings,” charles replies vaguely. “can we um.. i just don’t really want to talk about it tonight, anymore,” charles adds with a frown. he hates turning down seb’s offers to talk things through, because he knows it will help, but tonight he doesn’t want to feel like someone who needs help.

“okay, that’s okay,” seb replies. charles loves him even more for understanding that his refusal to share his feelings isn’t a “never.”

“what would you like to talk about, schatz?” seb asks softly, and the pet name reminds charles of seb’s earlier texts.

“oh i didn’t even thank you for your texts from earlier! thank you, seb, they were very sweet.”

“of course, liebe,” seb replies. charles could melt into the mattress at how sweet seb is being tonight. maybe it’s because seb had a couple of drinks, or maybe he just intuitively knows charles kind of really likes it when he uses sweet pet names like that.

part of charles wants to tell seb he’s sorry for making seb worry, he’s sorry for not being more talkative tonight, he’s sorry for being frustrated and feeling like a disappointment, he’s sorry for feeling like he’s wasting his chance at greatness.

but a bigger part of charles wants to hold onto this bright and weightless feeling seb gives him when he calls him his love or his treasure, so instead he asks, “why stern?”

“what?” seb asks after a moment of silence.

“in your last text, you called me your stern,” charles explains.

“oh, hmm, that’s right,” seb hums.

“i googled it,” charles responds.

“oh? did you? and what did it say? mein detektivchen,” seb teases. charles stomach flutters at seb continuing to speak german.

“it’s just google,” he teases back.

“yes, but i still think you’re very clever, regardless,” seb responds and charles wishes seb were actually next to him in bed so he could kiss him for that compliment.

“it means star,” charles whispers as his blush subsides. “you called me your star.”

“i did,” seb replies, his voice quiet, but firm. “and you are.”

“you’re being sweet.”

“i’m being honest.”

and charles swallows around a lump forming in his throat because seb’s tone is so genuine, he really sees charles as something so bright and high in the sky, something that’s a guiding light and mesmerizingly beautiful.

charles once told seb he adored gazing at the stars because they made him feel so hopeful that there are better and greater things ahead for him.

“mon couer,” charles whispers. his heart, his love.

“come visit me in switzerland after canada,” seb replies. “if you can.”

and charles thinks and hopes he must be seb’s heart too. that every time he uses one of those pet names he means it. his love, his treasure, his star, and his heart.

charles wants to promise him the same in return.

“i’ll make sure i can.”

[theeslytherinslut]

The Perpetual Freak (1/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Marauders x reader

Warnings: Mention of bullying,

Word Count: 2,063

The Beginning

“Twitch,

Just 4 days now--like I need to tell you, likely been counting down the days all bloody Holiday, haven’t you? We’ll be there Sept 1st at 10 on the dot, we should make it to King’s Cross by 11 that way. Be ready this time, won’t you? I think Padfoot just might actually hex your grandmother if he has to make small talk with her again, but can you blame him? Anyway, we’ll be there at 10. Don’t forget Jinx this time. I don’t fancy being attacked once he breaks out of your grandmother’s house.

P.S Sirius said he’ll be on his best behavior--does that make you nervous too?

See you soon,

Prongs (& Padfoot)

The letter lay in the same spot on your cracked cherrywood desk since you received it. Though short and to the point, you’d reread it many times, hoping somehow the more you read it, the faster the day would come.

Holidays were hell. Being a muggle-born, there was always a bit of an adjustment period after coming home from Hogwarts for a break--an adjustment period usually aided by parents and family--however, this could not have been further from the truth for you.

“Y/N!” As if on cue, your Grandmother's angry call shot up the stairs. Cringing, you held your breath as you walked down the stairs into the kitchen. She stood with her blue gingham apron covered in flour, as well as most of the floor and countertop.

“If this bloody bird scratches my window one-more-time,” she said the words through clenched teeth, glaring at you from across the room. Her stacked icy grey curls bobbled on her head as she shouted, her fist pressed against her hip. “I’ll have to drown it in the creek.”

Your Snowy Owl, Jinx, sat outside the baby-blue curtained window, his big orange eyes peering at you innocently through the glass.

Piecing together the situation, you’d guessed Jinx had arrived suddenly during your grandmother’s baking and had startled her, causing her to spill much of the contents of her bowl.

Suppressing a smile at the mess, you walked over to the window and opened it. Jinx’s peppered wings stretched out briefly before you felt his talons brush against your collarbone, and he perched onto your shoulder.

“Sorry, Grandmother,” you mumbled, catching your cousin smirking at you. A blush of anger lit up your face, and you made to disappear back into your room before anything got ugly; you’d gone all Holiday without a vicious row, and you weren’t about to start one just before you walked out the door.

“When does that school of yours start again, anyway? Aren’t you normally gone by now? Blakely’s school has already started, he’s been working so hard,” she doted, smoothing his hair as he ate his cereal, milk dribbling from his lips and onto the table. “We could all use a little peace and quiet around here, frankly.” she sniffed.

Jinx gave an annoyed hoot and ruffled his feathers unpleasantly as your grandmother glared at him from across the room.

“Train leaves September 1st at 11am like it always does. I’ll be leaving within the hour,” you said, struggling to control your voice.

“Train? There are enough of you--you, people, for an entire train?” Blakely said, dropping his spoon in his bowl, splattering more milk onto the table, evidently thoroughly shocked.

“Yes, oddly enough, it seems I’m not the only freak in England,” you said, using the word he often threw at you.

“Maybe not the only one, but definitely the biggest,” he said quietly, glaring up at you from his cereal. Grandmother, however, pretended as though she didn’t hear, merely clanged dishes loudly together as she turned back towards the sink.

“One day, I’ll hex you so terribly you’ll be lucky if someone calls you something so kind as freak,” you pushed the thought into his head and promptly stormed out of the kitchen, though savoring the terrified shock on his face.

“She-she did it again!” Blakely called, color draining his face. But you were already halfway up the staircase with Jinx balancing on your shoulder before her angry screech reached you.

You’d almost always been an utter freak in their eyes, and it all started when you were only a baby.

Your mother died while giving birth to you, and your father was never in the picture, so there was no one but your Grandmother to take you in; no one but you to blame for it all. You were, after all, the product of your mother’s insolence--having fallen pregnant at 15 by a man whom she’d never spoken of. And further, you were the reason she’d died; she wouldn’t have bled out if you hadn’t been conceived. To your Grandmother, it was as if you were the cause of every problem she had in life, a walking reminder of where it all went wrong--and she made sure you knew it.

Terrible as things already were, nothing was to be helped by the events that were to unfold. As the story had been told to you, you were a little over a year old, crying incessantly in your crib. You’d evidently been exceptionally whiny that day, crying non-stop, refusing to be consoled, and just when she’d for the first time seriously considered doing you in, you stopped. Relieved yet confused, your grandmother had come in to check on you.

“I’m hungry.”

She had heard the words clear as day, in a voice she didn’t recognize, but the words sounded funny. The voice almost echoed, somehow managing to sound crystal clear but miles away at the same time. Sure she was simply going mad from a lack of sleep, she stood rooted to her spot in shock.

“Did you hear me, Grandmother? I said I’m hungry.”

Seeing your bright Y/E/C eyes boring up into hers, she let out an ear-splitting scream when you grinned as recognition dawned on her face.

Obviously, no Muggle doctor could give any sort of explanation or help. At most, they’d give one of the two of you some kind of a crazy pill and a suggestion of seeing a family counselor.

Soon after, tragedy struck your grandmother’s side once more, and you were landed with a cousin, Blakely. Blakely, however, seemed to adopt a mindset closer to your grandmother’s about it all and would no sooner take a shine to you than get friendly with the rabies-infected alley cat.

But as the years went on, things began to get even stranger.

At the age of 3, your wailing cries caused all the lightbulbs around you to pop inexplicably (costing your grandmother a fortune, as she so loved to remind you).

At 5, you’d managed to levitate a ball Blakely was taunting you with out of his hands and into yours.

However, at age 9 is when it became harder to keep a secret; at age 9 is when your grandmother began truly resenting you.

Being a self-ascribed ‘freak,’ bullying was something you were no stranger to. A comment here, a hair tug there. However, this had been a particularly extreme case. Kylie Kippely and her best friends had backed you into a corner, each shooting off snarky comments at your scared state, and when that wasn’t enough, they began throwing things--anything they could get their hands on--cans, papers, pencils, erasers. All the while yelling how everyone would be much better off without such a freak in their midst, about how all their parents were scared to even send them to school anymore after your last incident.

Then, they began running out of rubbish and started picking up rocks instead. Before a single rock could leave their hands, however, the mulch around you began to shake, then chips slowly started rising into the air behind them. As your face went from scared to full of awe, they turned around to see what you were looking at and simultaneously dropped everything in their hands. The mulch then began pelting at all of them, causing everyone around you to scream and disperse, all batting away the pieces of mulch pelting at their running backsides.

Grandmother had pulled you out of the school before you could receive any other punishment, and from that moment on, you’d been stuck in the house with her.

With no outlet, with nothing but growing rage and resentment inside of you, things began to spiral even worse.

Just when Grandmother began researching distant reform schools, however, you received your Hogwarts letter, and everything made sense.

All the strange things you could do, all the bizarre things you made happen, had an explanation. Sure the explanation was that you were, in fact, a freak--but you weren’t the only freak. There was a whole school’s worth of freaks just like you--well, almost just like you.

Though paper cranes soared around you and magic burst from the tip of hundreds of wands, through your time at Hogwarts, you found you did have one unique gift: it was evidently called Telepathic Impression, a branch of complex magic known as Legillimens--no one else could push thoughts into other people’s heads like you could, not naturally anyway. Nobody could ask a question silently and have the Professor answer for all to hear. After you’d interjected into McGonagall’s head during your first Transfiguration class, she’d had you go straight off to Dumbledore’s office. After a brief discussion, it was found you possessed natural Legilimency skills--something that had only been seen once before. He’d been absolutely transfixed when you told him the first instance had been at the ripe age of 1, in fluent advanced English no less.

You smiled fondly at the memory of his laugh of delight as you’d repeated, ‘Did you hear me, Grandmother? I said I’m hungry.'

Never before had you told that story in any sort of positive light, never got a positive reaction either. Dumbledore had been absolutely enthralled with you from then on.

He had carefully explained the practice of Legilimency, how the mind was a layered thing and could not be ‘read’ simply, like a book. He’d explained how everyone learned it to some advantage of theirs, how no two Legilimens were the same.

After several years of private lessons, it seemed all you’d ever be able to do with your gift was push thoughts, images, and sounds of your own into other’s minds--but this was an incredible feat in itself, a private gift of yours. However, just the year before, it was found that with effort, you could twist the thought to become persuasive, convince the person the thought was their own, and to complete the idea you’d given them. During the first lesson which you found you could do so, you’d been practicing with Dumbledore. Though he was giving no effort at all to resist, you’d silently suggested his tea was abysmal and that he knock it off his desk in disgust. With a twitch of his wrist, the cup shattered onto the floor, shocking you both into silence. It was after this Dumbledore had insisted you promise to never use it for evil, never ever use it with ill intentions--for as a Legilimens himself, he would know. You quickly agreed, of course; you’d never once had the thought to use it with ill motives--aside from maybe having Blakely go for a nice long dip in the creek in the dead of January, but that was a fantasy you kept for yourself to get you through Holidays like these.

Shaking your head of past childhood memories, you turned to your trunk to make sure you did indeed have everything all packed up and ready. You didn’t want to stay a second longer than necessary.

Spotting your cloaks pushed into the depths of your closet, you plucked them from the dark and folded them into your trunk. It wasn’t a moment too soon either, because right as you closed the lid, you heard the boisterous arrival of your best friends as they pulled in the winding driveway driving the enchanted car James’ parents had lent him. You heard an enthusiastic barking whoop and smiled as Sirius’ bright eyes and smile filled your mind.

Your stomach bubbling with excitement, you hastily put Jinx in his cage as he looked around in interest. Picking up his cage, you bounded down the stairs to meet them.

[jiminniethemarshmallow]

Wait For Me (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: smut, pwp

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: yikes switch!reader, switch!Jimin (but mostly dom), needy!Jimin, horny-ass-mf!Jimin, masturbation, dirty talk, ruined orgasm, post-orgasm torture, dirty talk, overstimulation, 69(?), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, pet names, begging, dirty talk, omg so much dirty talk I’m going crazy

(A/N): Am I the only one that’s into dirty talk like this? Maybe. But did I enjoy writing this? Absolutely. Kinda for Jimin’s birthday but really just me needing an excuse to be a sl*t in writing.

“Please, (Y/n)?” Your boyfriend whines from his spot on the bed, the tent in his boxers already pitched to full height behind you.

“No! Wait until I’m finished.” You huff in frustration, trying your hardest to focus on the words in front of you. It’s a stuffy Sunday night like any other, you sitting at your desk doing your homework at the last minute and Jimin reclining on your shared mattress doing whatever the hell he wants. Except, tonight all he wants to do is you. You’ve been prancing around the house in nothing but his shirt and a pair of panties all day, teasing him playfully and laughing whenever he would get worked up. You thought it was funny how easily you could get him hard without trying, but it doesn’t seem so funny now when he keeps begging to fuck you while you’re desperately trying to complete your homework.

“You promised we would fuck tonight!” His pout is evident in the tone of his voice but you refuse to look at him. If you do, you just might give in.

“We will, but I have to finish this assignment first. It’s due at midnight, so I really need to get it done right now.” It’s your fault for waiting until the night of to work on this, but you wrongfully assumed that Jimin would understand and let you work in peace. All you have to do is complete a short reading and take a 10 question quiz and then you’re free, but what should have been a 15 minute endeavor has now turned into an hour and a half of arguing and rereading the same 3 sentences over and over. It’s getting ridiculous.

“You said you wouldn’t take long, but I’ve been sitting here ALL NIGHT waiting for you.”

“That’s because you won’t shut up!” You snap, glaring at him from the corner of your eye. His mouth falls open before he frowns, puffing his cheeks out cutely for no one to see. You think you hear him mutter something under his breath, but you don’t question it and instead take his momentary silence to speed through a page.

The silence continues for a couple of minutes and you swear you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your seat. There’s some shuffling on the bed, more silence, and just when you begin to think he’s found something useful to do instead of bothering you, you hear a groan. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

He’s closer than he was before— probably sitting on the edge of the bed facing you now— and it almost feels like he’s breathing down your neck with how clear his voice sounds now. You scoot your chair up slightly to escape him. The sound of friction fills the space of the room, the image of his hand wrapped around his dick floating around your mind even when you refuse to look at him. He pumps fairly slowly, his eyes still glued to your back.

“Mmm, I’m so fucking hard, baby.” Jimin moans to you, trying to coax you into turning your head to see him. “I’ve been hard all day because of you and now you won’t even look at me? Such a bad girl.” You roll your eyes, tuning him out as best you can. Yet, you can’t seem to ignore the wet squelch that fills your ears when he rolls over his head. He moans louder this time. “Since you won’t look at me, I guess I’ll just have to tell you what I’m doing. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on anything.”

At your sigh, he chuckles, the sound dark and mischievous in a way that makes you ball up your fists. “Jimin,” You warn, but he knows the threat holds no real substance.

“My cock is so red right now, just aching to fuck your tight little pussy, princess. It’s leaking already, can you hear it? All that precum just for you.” You close your eyes, envisioning the sight you’ve seen so many times, but your eyes snap open when you remember your objective and turn the page of your book. “I want you so bad, want you to lick it all up and take me into your throat. Fuck. My hand feels nothing like that hot mouth of yours.” His strokes are longer now, dragging breathy, rhythmic pants from him.

You’d be lying if you said his voice wasn’t making you wet, but you won’t let him know that. He’ll be at this for a while, you know how much he likes to tease himself, so you try your hardest to get used to his rhythm and make it background noise as you progress through the reading. But the words on the pages don’t seem nearly as interesting as the words he feeds you from his plump lips.

“My head is so sensitive, princess, I can barely even touch it without almost cumming.” He grunts, gasping every time his hand nears his tip. You lick your lips, shifting in your seat, an action he catches onto. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Seeing me cum all over myself while fucking my hand? Calling your name as I make a mess all over myself and our bedsheets?” The bed squeaks and you can only imagine that it’s from his hips bucking into his fist, picking up speed as he speaks. Your clit throbs annoyingly, and before you can stop yourself, your hand slips between your legs to rub over your panties. Thankfully, he doesn’t see this, probably because his head is thrown back as he lets out a series of moans.

You’re sensitive. More sensitive than you realized. And you almost let out a sound of your own when he curses. And for a brief moment— a split second— you contemplate abandoning your work and indulging him just to end your suffering. But no, you can’t give in that easily, you have less than a half hour to do your assignment. You’ll keep your hand where it is, however.

“Feels so fucking good,” Jimin lets out a drawn out moan, slowing his pace and working his hand again so you can hear it slapping against the skin of his abdomen. It’s loud and wetter than before, making you gush in your underwear at the thought of how worked up he’s getting. “I know how much you like playing with my balls,” You hear the grin in his voice. “So I’ll play with them a little for you, baby.” The obscene moan that falls from his mouth makes your eyes roll, the material of your panties completely soaked now at how desperate he sounds. You can’t help but to rub yourself to him, willing yourself not to turn around. “I wanna feel that tight little pussy bouncing on my cock, princess. So wet that you drip and cream down my balls as you ride this big cock til you cum, and beg me to cum deep inside your hot cunt. Will- oh shit- will you let me cum inside you tonight, baby? Let me cum deep inside and fill you up so you’re dripping me for days?” His voice is heavy with lust, it’s tone dipping deeper as his moans pitch higher. You assume it’s a rhetorical question so you don’t respond. “Hmm? Are you wet thinking about my cock and cum filling you up, (Y/n)?”

“No.” You lie through your teeth, voice surprisingly stable despite how your fingers move rapidly over your clothed clit. You can feel your wetness through the fabric now, and you just know there will be a stain on your chair when you get up, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“No?” He asks teasingly. “You okay over there? You haven’t turned a page in a while.” Damn him for being so observant. You almost forgot you were reading, the words all jumbled up on the page as your focus is pulled away by the pleasure. Fuck it, you’ll just take the quiz now to get it over with and accept whatever score you get. Jimin watches  in amusement as you turn to your laptop, clicking open the quiz hurriedly and starting the questions, zooming through the first 5. He lets out a short laugh at that. “You better hurry, I’m getting close.”

Sucking in through his teeth, you hear him speed up again, spitting onto himself to make the glide smoother, and your core clenches in want. You read question #6 four times before you comprehend what it’s asking, your body betraying you as it yearns for you to look over at your stubborn boyfriend who curses out your name.

“Listen to that sound, princess. That’s what it would sound like if I was fucking you right now. God, I should just bend you over that desk and take you right here for making me wait like this. Make you take every inch of this cock and see if you can ignore me then.” He nearly growls this, an inaudible whimper squeezing from your throat. You would love that. He’s done it before, pushed you up against the desk and had his way with you when you thought it would be funny to give him a strip tease after he ordered you to get on the bed one wine-laced night. But he doesn’t deserve to have you like that after torturing you like this.

Only 3 more questions left and he’s getting more needy, the whiny quality of his voice letting you know how close he is before his words. A noise that you’re all too familiar with fills the air and you freeze. It’s quick and sloppy, the sound of his hand focusing directly on his tip at an inhuman speed that not even you could reproduce. His moans follow the pace, each one getting longer and pitchier, and you can almost hear how his hips lift off the sheets.

“You better not cum.”

“You want me to edge? But I’ve been on edge all day, baby.” He complains. Against your better judgment, you whip your head around to look at him. There, he sits naked on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide as he leans back on one elbow, one hand tangled in the sheets, the other stroking slowly at his thick cock upon your request. It’s red and leaking just like he said, the glistening tip causing your mouth to water. Jimin’s head is thrown back to expose his sweaty neck, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, eyes shut in pleasure. But once he realizes that you’re looking at him, he snaps his head up to meet your gaze and sends you a shit-eating grin at the flushed look on your face. Then, he resumes working at his head, arching his hips up in the most erotic sight you’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing. That’s the last straw.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum!” You growl.

You click random answers on the last few quiz questions, hitting submit and slamming your laptop shut before stomping over to him, slapping his hand away as you clamber up onto the bed, pushing him down aggressively and throwing a leg over his chest to face his erection. It jumps at you, so painfully hard that you almost feel bad for him. But Jimin doesn’t deserve your pity right now. Not long after your hand finds him, your mouth fits over the soft tip.

“Fuuuuuck.” He grunts, hands finding your ass instantly. The crotch of your panties are soaked all the way through, the dark spot causing a smirk to cross his lips. “Why did you lie to me, princess? I thought you said you weren’t wet?” For some reason, hearing him say this makes you even wetter, and you suck in a breath through your nose when his fingers come up to touch your core, a deep hum vibrating through his body that ends in a chuckle. “Absolutely drenched, baby. Were you touching yourself over there? Your clit is so swollen I can see it through your panties.”

His voice hitches at the end of his sentence as you sink all the way down on him, pushing yourself to take him all the way into your throat just like he wanted, the tip of your nose resting at his balls. It’s partially payback for his teasing, but you adore the response you get from him as he nearly chokes on air from the sudden stimulation. You bob a few times, a delightful lightheaded feeling overtaking you as you hold your breath and force yourself to keep him in your throat. Your reward is that you finally shut him up, Jimin now at a loss of words beneath you and shaking with the effort it takes to not fuck into your mouth. Smirking, you pull off of him, dropping your ass down a bit until your core grazes his lips, and he gets the hint immediately. Always the eager lover, he pulls the crotch of your underwear to the side, groaning at the strings of arousal that cling to it. The sight makes his mouth water, his tongue lurching forward to lick a long stripe up your slit, gliding back down to suck at your engorged clit.

Your moan is muffled around him, working the top half of his shaft while one hand accommodates the rest, and your jaw is already starting to hurt from his size. Although he’s generally a small person, Jimin’s cock is anything but. Your jaw fell to the floor the first time he dropped his pants, the girth surprising you pleasantly. He’s got an impressive width that left you sore for a few days and a length that is well above average. His balls always seem plump and heavy, ready for you to milk them dry, and you can’t stop yourself from reaching up and grabbing them, massaging the plush sacs for your own amusement.

“Oh f- you’re so good at this.” He cuts himself off with a gasp, kissing the inside of your thighs and biting hickies into them as his mind becomes cloudy. He’s close— if the slight movement of his hips is any indication— and an evil idea pops into your mind. His hips thrust upwards at a particularly hard suck at his tip and you gag at the sudden depth, Jimin nearly yelling out at how your throat closes around him. “Yesss, baby girl, choke on my dick.” You preen at his praise, but keep your composure.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Your hips push back into him, covering his mouth with your lower lips, and he continues his work enthusiastically to distract himself. You’ve switched to using just your tongue now, licking up and down the solid shaft and circling around the head, providing just enough stimulation to inch him closer to the edge but no longer giving him what he wants. What he wants is a hard and fast orgasm. You’ll make sure that’s not what he gets. His groans increase in volume and frequency as you work your magic tongue, flicking over that sensitive fold of skin where his tip attaches to the rest of him, and it’s not long before he’s trembling.

“(Y/n),” He mumbles out a shaky warning, and you have to push down his hips with one hand when they begin to lift off the bed, your other hand jerking steadily at his base while you tease over his slit with the tip of your tongue. The pressure builds, his balls lifting in preparation for his release, and you coax it out of him with a few gentle sucks. “Ah!”

Jimin lets out a high pitched groan sounding almost in pain when you pull off of him, squeezing at his base so hard that only a few short spurts of cum make it out. Your mouth has been completely removed from him, it’s only connection being the long strand of saliva hanging from your lips, and he bucks up frantically in search of stimulation to complete his orgasm. Still rock hard, he practically begs you to move your hand, to give him anything as the few lonely globs of semen sadly skid down onto your hand like tears from his one-eyed monster. His mouth is covered by your pussy so you can’t hear his pleas, but the vibrations they send to your core are absolutely delightful. Once you’re sure he’s finished cumming, you begin your evil plan.

It starts with a few slow pumps, lubed by his own semen from his length that’s still twitching in your hand, but it quickly escalates to firm and steady strokes that have him squirming under you. You aren’t even going that fast, but the sensitivity makes him thrash and cry out prettily as you hold him down with your body weight. Jimin’s into all kinds of freaky shit, so this isn’t the first time you’ve indulged in post orgasm torture, but it’s somehow very different when he’s not expecting it. Your hand moves at an unyielding pace, unbothered by the way his legs open and close only to be smacked apart by the hand that still holds his balls.

“I’ll stop when you make me cum.” You state, unsure if he can even hear you. But his tongue dives in with renewed vigor, flicking relentlessly at your clit as you grind down on him. It won’t take long to reach your peak, his technique is flawless, licking wide circles around your bud with the flat of his tongue and then raising up to plunge his long muscle between your walls. Your essence dribbles down onto his face, wetting his chin and cheeks as he eats you like a man starved. You haven’t been this turned on in a long while, you didn’t think you’d be so into seeing him suffer in pleasure like this— his body writhing under yours and cock still so insanely hard in your hand just from the light hold you have on him. His hands claw at your ass, pulling you down and spreading your cheeks apart, fingers bruising the flesh in his haze of sweet agony.

You moan for him and bite your lip, closing your eyes as he edges you closer to your peak, your hand starting to stutter on him. It’s easy to get lost in him and grind down into his mouth, the feeling of his tongue between your folds heavenly, the feeling of his lips even better. But what sets you over the top is when his fingers snake into your opening, first two, then three. The stretch causes you to throw your head back, and you go flying head first into your orgasm when he curls into that one spot, tongue still on your clit and fingers wiggling inside you as your walls spasm around him. With one last groan, you lift away from him, finally moving your hands to his thighs to grip the muscles as you try to catch your breath. Jimin does the same, relaxing into the mattress as a few more ticklish waves flow through him.

“Was that okay?” You spin around until you’re laid on top of him, chin on his chest looking up into his dark chocolate eyes. He cracks a brief smile at your cuteness before flipping you over, capturing your lips sweetly. But the sweetness ends before you can even enjoy it when he bites down on your lip, a whimper falling from you.

“You can’t ask for my consent after it’s over.” He points out, trying to hide his giggle in the crook of your neck as he sucks dark marks there. “But, yeah, that was fucking hot.” The tip of his erection prods at your ass cheek, nudging the fabric of your soiled underwear. Without pulling away, Jimin hooks his fingers into your waistband, snatching them off and chucking them across the room, next comes your shirt, which he damn near rips in his haste to get it over your head. He growls. “So fucking sexy. And all mine. Right, princess?”

“Yes, Jimin, I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me.” In an instant you switch roles, dropping the momentary dominance to cower in his presence. There’s a hunger in your boyfriend’s eyes that you provoked, the product of the teasing he faced all day, and you drip down your ass at the thought of him taking you however he wants. You suspect he’ll be eager to finally fuck you, but you underestimate how petty he can be. The tip of his cock runs through your wetness, but when he sees the way you jump when it rolls over your sensitive clit, his eyes narrow, seeing an opportunity to get his revenge. Dipping down briefly to collect more of your wetness, he glides the slick underside of him over your bundle of nerves, using his thumb to press down and add pressure, then he grinds his hips ever so slowly back and forth over you, forcing you to feel every ridge of him bump against you. “Oh fuck!” You gasp out, spreading your legs wider and lifting your hips into him. His length is hot, still burning and hard from not getting a full orgasm.

“You like this, baby? You like how my cock feels between these soft lips, rubbing that cute little clit?” He grins when your eyes roll back, thighs already starting to tremble. “Maybe I should just fuck you like this. Make you cum without ever even entering you.”

“No! No, please, Jimin.” Your eyes pop open in alarm at the thought of him not fucking you tonight, though you know he’s far too wound up to deny both of you that. Still, he persists his humping, groaning along with you as you feel another orgasm creeping up embarrassingly fast.

“Hmm, seems like you’d like that though? I mean, you look like you’re about to cum again already.” The patronizing tone of voice he uses would piss you off in any other situation, but you’re not in your right mind currently. As he picks up pace you feel your mind slipping away, your clit throbbing and your empty walls clenching almost painfully around nothing. You try to hold back and prove him wrong, you really do, but your body betrays you and with every nudge of his tip you can feel yourself falling. The most you can let out is a desperate whine. “If you want something, use your words and tell me.”

“P-please...”

“Please what?” You can feel his eyes on your face, but your eyelids are sealed shut and your head is tossed back into the pillows. It takes everything in you to muster the strength to form a coherent sentence and push it past your lips.

“P-please fuck me, baby.” Your voice hiccups at a particular stroke, the hood of your bud now pushed back for more direct stimulation. You aren’t sure how long you’ll last like this.

“You want me to fuck you?” He coos, twitching against your lower lips.

“Yes please, I need your cock.” Asking in the sweetest voice you can, you peel your eyes open to bat your lashes at him, but they snap shut once again when he suddenly pushes inside your velvet walls, shoving you off the edge unexpectedly.

“That’s my good girl,” Jimin sighs once he’s bottomed out, hands roaming your torso as you shake uncontrollably. “So desperate for my cock that you came right when I put it in.” He clicks his tongue, but if you were cognizant at the moment you would have noticed his satisfied tone. You clamp down on him as your orgasm washes through you, and he rides the waves with shallow pumps of his hips and his fingers tweaking your nipples, grunting at the way you pulse around him.

He pushes in deeper as you start coming down, the sensitivity kicking in with every drag of his member inside you. He pays no mind to your whimpering and reaches around your back to lift you up, seating you in his lap with your heels on the tops of his ass. And your hips start moving immediately despite the tingling that shoots up your spine.

Though his body screams for release after his incomplete high, Jimin can’t help but guide you into a sensual pace of grinding and rocking, the intimacy soothing him. With your arms around his neck, you fall into a comfortable rhythm as you slide back and forth against his length, adding a swivel of your hips just to hear him groan. Your weight on top of his feels like the most natural thing in the world and he wishes you could stay like this forever. Running his hands up and down your back, he allows you to mark up his neck and collarbones for everyone to see. He always wears your love bites so proudly. Relishes in the slight tickle of your tongue and nip of your teeth that whisper to him ‘you are mine’. Rose petals bloom on the surface of his skin all the way up to his ear lobe where you nibble.

“Your cock feels fucking amazing, babe.” You whisper in that sultry tone of yours, noting how his hips twitch beneath yours. You’d never say it out loud but you’ve been thinking of this all day. Waiting to hold him close and just love one another. His lips plant a few stray kisses to the side of your neck before trailing downwards, capturing a pert bud between them. You lean back on your hands to give him more access, grinding down just a bit harder when his hips lift to meet yours to make sure you get every inch he has to offer. With your head thrown back like this Jimin can reach that delicate spot deep inside you with ease, humming at the shaky moan you let out. His lips curl into a grin when you begin to bounce with desperation, planting your feet behind him for leverage.

Jimin’s eyes peer up at you as you ride his dick, your breast bouncing in his mouth as he switches to the other to suck. Sweat has now accumulated on your forehead and neck, the droplets glittering against your complexion. Your eyes are screwed shut and the prettiest flush has overtaken your cheeks and chest as you work for your next high, lips bitten and eyebrows squinted together. Truly, you are gorgeous. It makes him impossibly harder to see you like this, his length already throbbing within you, but he holds back as much as he can simply because seeing you fall apart is almost more satisfying than experiencing it himself. It should be surprising that you’re getting close already, but it’s always been easy for you to cum quickly after your first orgasm, the sensitivity and connection you have with your lover making you as explosive as a lit firecracker.

“You’re so needy tonight, princess, is it because of how much you teased me all day? Did you like watching me suffer?” You don’t answer because, frankly, yes. You loved it. And it’s too embarrassing to admit, but Jimin already knows. “Well, let’s see how much you like it when I destroy this cunt until you can’t walk.” The gruffness of his voice makes your eyes roll, the tenderness he’d shown not even a minute ago gone completely as he lets his teeth scrape over your nipple.

Bringing you flush against his chest again, he hooks his elbows under your knees and starts pounding into you in earnest, your hands flying to his shoulders for stability. His core strength is a sight to behold, supporting almost all of your weight while sitting upright, pulling you onto his cock as though you weigh nothing. And all you can do is hang on for the ride, gasping and crying out at the way he repeatedly slams into your spot. Tangling your hands in his hair, you pull him closer and rest your face on the crown of his head, feeling your limbs go weak from the pleasure.

He grunts below you when you tug, bucking up harder when your walls start to squeeze. Wetness streaks down your ass, a string of curses tumble out of your mouth to accompany the lewd sounds of him pushing through your arousal. Each stroke is calculated, and you find yourself teetering very close to the edge.

“Please, Jimin, I’m so close. Please can I cum?” You mumble, barely coherent.

“My baby girl wants to cum again?” He coos into your collarbone, the ticklish skim of his lips sending a shiver through you. ‘My baby girl.’ That one word has you shaking.

“Yes!” You wail as his hands tighten on your ass, palming the globes harshly to slam you down on his length. You can just imagine how sexy his arms look right now, the muscles and veins bulging in his forearms and hands from how tightly he holds you, his biceps and shoulders on full display and glimmering with perspiration. His voice rumbles against you in that thick Busan accent and you almost cream right there.

“Beg for it.” He looks up into your eyes and you see something dark, a heady lust that lowers his eyelids and makes you feel like you’re looking at the definition of sex itself.

“Please please please let me cum, baby!” Your voice shakes with each jolt of your body against his. “I’m so greedy for your cock, I wanna cum for you. You make me feel so good!” Pleased, Jimin gives you permission and moves a little faster, pressing you down against him so your clit rubs against him every time, and you nearly scream from the feeling. You sing your praises into the room knowing how it motivates him, but you couldn’t stop even if you tried. Skin slicked with sweat, you let yourself fall into another breathtaking high, clinging onto your boyfriend who grinds you on top of him to savor the way you clench and throb around his tip when it’s buried deep inside you.

“Fuck,” You both swear at the same time, taking a brief moment to catch your breath as Jimin kisses his way up your neck, releasing your legs and squeezing you close with his arms wrapped tight around your back. Exhaustion dances through you and you sit limply in his hold, eyes closed and basking in his sticky heat. But the moment is soon over when you feel him twitch within your sensitive walls, growling as he shifts his weight until your back is pressed into the mattress with him kneeling over you.

“Keep those eyes open, baby, I’m not done with you yet.” You gasp when his hips begin to move again, your nerves rubbed raw and swollen from the three highs he’s already pulled from you. Still, your eyes roll in delight when he starts ramming into you again, pushing your legs as far apart as they will go and holding you open. “You didn’t think I would let you off that easy, did you, princess? You still need to be punished for today.” He coos, voice gentle despite his hard thrusts. You whine loudly and attempt to close your legs when he touches a sweet spot deep within you, the pleasure almost too much, but it’s like you’re addicted to him, unable to get enough even when your body begs for reprieve. “Shhh, I know you can take it, baby. I know how much you love it when I overstimulate this greedy pussy, so be a good girl and take it.”

He’s absolutely correct, you love the overstimulation and the twinge of pain and overwhelming pleasure that comes with it. And you know this is his payback for the post-orgasm torture you gave him earlier. You’re still incredibly wet, new arousal dripping out of your entrance every time he plunges in, the mess of your juices and his precum dripping down the crack of your ass and onto your bedsheets. Looking up at Jimin’s face, you see how entranced he is by the sight before him, eyes trained between your legs as he watches himself disappear inside you and re-emerge with a new coating of slick covering his shaft. Smirking, you reach your hands down around your ass and pull your lips open wider for him, biting your lip at the way his eyebrows crease together and his mouth drops open at the sight. His pace slows slightly, his breathing labored as he begins to slowly unravel for you.

“Fuck, that’s so sexy! God, you always take my cock so well, princess.” He hisses, licking his full lips when your clit throbs at his praise. He can see and feel when you tighten, his tip finding that spot again that makes your back arch off the bed.

“Jimin,” You mewl, your thighs shaking in his grip and fingers clawing the sheets. Tears build in your beautiful eyes. It feels so good, but would you be able to handle a fourth orgasm tonight? Your body feels pushed to the limit, but your lover says otherwise.

“C’mon, baby girl, cum for me one more time.” You shake your head in desperation, pleading with him with your watery eyes. “Yes you can. Just relax for me, baby, I got you. I want you to cum one last time, just one more, and then I’m gonna fill you up.” He encourages softly, yet you don’t miss the dominant undertones that tell that this is a command. With a huff from his nostrils, he pounds into you harder while fighting off his own release, staying deep right up against that spot making you cry out. His hands reach for your breast and you place your hands over his for comfort, moaning as he squeezes the bouncing mounds as you toss your head back.

“I- I don’t think I can...” You whimper, unsure if you can get there with your nerves feeling numb and worn like this. But Park Jimin is nothing if not determined, so he takes your statement as a challenge. Slipping one hand away from you, he presses his thumb to your lips, staring down at you intensely before you open.

“Suck.” On command, you swirl your tongue around his digit, coating it in your spit before he slides it out with a pop. Suddenly, he’s pressing against your swollen clit in tight circles and those special tingles shoot up and down your spine at the feeling. He hums at the sounds you make, eyes sealed shut because of the blinding waves of bliss coursing through your veins, building you up almost frighteningly fast. He feels you pulse, your jelly legs trembling on either side of him as they attempt to close, but his praises fall on deaf ears as you chase the sensations of his skillful hips and fingers, rocking into him with the last of your energy until you reach the brink.

“Oh my god-!” You shudder and shriek as you finally tense up around him. Your walls clamp down repeatedly as Jimin continues flicking your sensitive nub, and the tears that had been welling up finally spill over. He stops only when your breathing turns to pitiful snivels, wiping away your tears with caring hands and loving eyes. His hips are still fucking you through the aftershocks as he kisses his way around your face, planting his lips firmly on yours until your breathing evens out.

“I’m gonna cum soon,” He whispers out, resting his forehead against yours. “Will you let me cum in this pretty little pussy, baby?” You nod against him, staring right into his coffee colored eyes. “Mm, I want you to keep it inside all night, okay princess? So I can fuck it out of you in the morning. Will you do that for me?”

“Fuck, yes.” You moan. You can feel the way he gets just a bit harder, how his muscles start to shake just slightly, and you know exactly how to push him over the edge. Your fingers lightly caress the velvety skin of his balls, causing a surprised moan to leave his lips. “I want your cum so bad, Jimin. I promise I’ll keep it inside, I’ll be a good girl for you. Please fill me up.” Knowing how much your words would affect him, you use your sweetest voice and lock your heels around his back. His head swims with desire and his voice strains.

Sitting up a bit, his hands clamp onto your hips to stroke into you in earnest, face contorted in the sexiest of expressions. You want to shy away from his intense gaze but you can’t pull your eyes away from him, drinking up the sight of his clenching abs, sweaty chest and neck, and the pure hunger that overtakes his features. “Good girl. Don’t move. Enjoy the feeling of my cum filling you up.” With a few more grunts and groans, he allows himself to release into you, shuddering almost as hard as you were from the feeling of the full orgasm he had been waiting for all day. Spurt after spurt of his release covers your walls, and your inner muscles suck it in as if on instinct, throbbing around him to milk every last drop. You let him collapse onto you as he finishes, cock still throbbing while he gasps and pants into the crook of your neck. You can feel it already starting to leak out around him, but he won’t be too upset about it since he’ll likely have fun fingering it back into you later.

There’s a comfortable silence as you both catch your breath, pressing sleepy kisses to each other’s damp skin with rosy cheeks and smiles on your faces. Jimin moves first, groaning when his muscles scream out in soreness when he sits at the side of the bed to pull on his boxers. You giggle, commenting about how you were supposed to be the one unable to walk, not the other way around. He snorts passing you a pair of panties and helping you stand so you can make it to the bathroom.

Once you’re both cleaned up, you get ready for bed, grumbling about having an early class tomorrow morning. Which reminds you of the homework quiz you took tonight. Opening your laptop again, you check your score, only to have your face drop at what you see.

“50 PERCENT?!” You whip around to face your boyfriend, who was back to reclining against the headboard, the scene similar to the beginning of your night. “You owe me for this, Jimin.”

He waves you off. “Those quizzes aren’t even worth that much, you’ll be fine.” But you disagree because you’ve already missed 2 of them and only the lowest 2 scores are dropped at the end of the semester. He rolls his eyes when you tell him this, cutting you off with a dramatic groan. “Babyyyyyy, stop talking about school and come to bed.” His pout is unmatched, so you easily relent and shut down your laptop, huffing and puffing the entire time.

“You owe me cuddles and breakfast tomorrow morning.” You grumble as you climb in next to him, fitting your body with his.

“And shower sex.” He winks at you and you snort, turning out the bedside lamp.

“Goodnight, Jimin.” You laugh, snuggling up to his chest in the quiet of your stuffy room.

...

“So no shower sex?”

[det-loki]

poison & wine pt. one

 “I know everything you don’t want me to.”

warnings: angst, cursing

pairing: detective loki x fem reader

word count: 1,378

A/N: I’ve read and reread what seems like every detective loki fic and I’ve decided it’s my turn. I’m still relatively new with writing series, but I’m very proud of this. Enjoy, feedback is greatly appreciated! (if you find a grammar mistake, let me know)

REWRITE MASTERLIST

⌽  2  3  4  5  6

You hated the rain. It was cold and wet, always sending a bone-chilling cold through you. It reminded you of too many bad memories. Hospitals, pain, and blood. Yet all it seemed to do in Conyers was rain.

You sat across from Loki while you were toying with your fried rice inside of the vacant restaurant. This was yours and Loki’s spot, always seeming to end up here at least once a week for the past five years. You grew to hate the food but it was a constant in yours and Loki’s life and you refused to mess that up. Too many memories have been made in this shitty restaurant, good and bad.

 Neither you nor David cared much for Thanksgiving and you couldn’t be bothered to cook for just the two of you. It was too depressing, so Chinese food it was. The waitress came to your table with the check and hot tea, Loki reaching for the check before you could. Not once has he ever let you pay for a meal. Even when he could barely afford socks. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, detectives.” You wondered if she was waiting on you two to leave for her to go home to relax and celebrate the holiday. You felt bad, considering you and Loki were the only ones there, like usual.

Loki mutters a ‘thanks’ into his coffee cup before continuing, “Do you have any of the fortune-cookie things?”

The waitress looks at Loki with a smirk, “My boss told me cops don’t like fortune cookies.” Classic. 

David looks down at the zodiac placemat, “What year were you born? Are you a dragon, or a snake, a horse, or a sheep?”

“I’m a monkey.” The waitress ogled David who was barely paying attention to her. You knew he would never act on her advances, he was too caught up in whatever the two of you were. Lovers, roommates, co-workers, family. He was everything to you and vice versa. 

Both you and Loki look down to read, Loki responds, “Oh, you’re a monkey. You’re very intelligent. You have the ability to influence people. Think maybe you could influence your boss to lower the check a little bit?” He was flirting. Sometimes you thought that he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. It’s how he charmed you all those years ago. Both of you young and dumb; too young to know any better or any different.

The waitress brings you out of your head, “No, I cannot. My boss is a rooster.”

Again, both you and Loki look down to inspect as the waitress walks away. Selfish and eccentric. Nice, reminds me of Captain O’Malley.

Loki looks at you with a genuine smile before asking, “What’s your zodiac? I forget.” You loved it when he smiled, he didn’t do it enough. You couldn’t really blame him though, neither did you. 

“Well, considering it’s tattooed on your hand, I feel like you should remember. I’m a horse also a cancer, whichever way you want to look at it.” He had gotten the tattoos a month after it.

Loki laughs and looks down again, “Energetic, passionate, and aspirant. I’d say that’s pretty accurate for you.”

You laugh, “Yeah, what’s yours?” You already knew the answer, it was tattooed into your skin years ago along with two other zodiac symbols next to it. Never allowing you to abandon Conyers or David. You were forever tied to it all, inked permanently.

Loki looks at you, his eyes teasing, “I’m gonna give you the same line. Considering it’s tattooed on your collarbone, I feel like you should remember.”

Before you could respond, both yours and Loki’s phones interrupt with a call. Two missing girls, fuck.

The rain is coming down in sheets as you step out of Loki’s car. You pull your raincoat tighter as you follow David to the RV that was called in surrounded by cops at the edge of the woods.

You take your radio out of your pocket, “13-40 and 13-43 engaging with the suspect. Be advised.”

You creep along with Loki towards the RV as the driver revs the engine, tail lights flashing red against you. The RV violently backs up, Loki instructing everyone to not shoot. The driver changes gears, driving forward and slamming into a tree. You advance forward, gun in hand along with a flashlight. Arriving at the door of the RV, Loki takes your flashlight, “Stay here, keep watch.”

Loki entered the vehicle while you and other officers stood by, waiting. The door opens violently, Loki throwing the suspect out. The man stumbles as Loki takes hold of his jacket, dragging him further into the woods. You followed silently, letting David handle him. He never was gentle with cases when children were involved.

Loki yelled at the man with no response, only a blank stare. David shoved him forward, falling at your feet, “What the fuck is this guy on?”

 You take his forearm and haul him to his feet, instructing an officer to take him to the station while David called out for someone to call PSP. This case was already bad. Fear, and pain already settling into your bones. 

You sat in the interrogation room while Loki had the suspect, Alex Jones, backed against a corner. The interrogation had been going on for 2 hours and nothing useful has been said and Loki was getting impatient. You could see it in the way he squinted his eyes and the tension in his shoulders. He needed a break before he exploded.

“Detective, let me try. Take a break.” Loki looks over his shoulder at you, frustrated. He knew you were right but he didn’t want to give up. With a hard sigh, he left the room. Alex visibly relaxed as Loki left.

You had your suspicions about Alex’s cognitive abilities by the way he was speaking, you wouldn’t be able to confirm until the psychologist arrived. Your best bet was to speak as if you were speaking to a child, “Alex, would you like to sit down with me?”

Alex nodded his head, slowly shuffling towards the chair sat across from you. He visibly trembled as he sat down.

“Alex, is it okay with you if I ask you some questions?”

Alex only nodded, “What were you doing today with the RV?”

Alex speaks softly, voice cracking, “Just driving.”

You sigh, “Yeah, I like drives. Was today a special day to drive?” You did not like drives, you preferred not to. David had always been the driver between the two of you. 

Alex shakes his head no. You couldn’t help but feel bad for the boy. He had no idea what was going on, however, you quickly shoved that thought down, he was a suspect in the case of two missing little girls.

“Okay Alex, I’m going to step out for a minute to give you a break, I know this is all different and scary. Let me know if you need anything.” With that, you left the room. You turned towards the interrogation viewing room door where you knew Loki already was watching your questioning.

As soon as you step foot in the room, Loki snaps at you, “What was that? You were too soft, we won’t get anywhere with that.”

You scoff. David was good at his job but he had a habit of going too far, “No, I wasn’t. You scaring him speechless isn’t going to get us anywhere either. Let me do my job the way I need to and I’ll let you do yours.”

Loki knew you were right so instead of protesting, he went to go talk to the forensics team, leaving you alone in the room with your thoughts. This case was going to be bad for the both of you, you already knew that. You needed to keep your head on straight and keep composure, if you didn’t, this case was going to consume and eat you alive. It was bound to happen, your good luck as partners was going to run out one day and you hoped this case wasn’t it. 

You walk back to your desk in hopes to find David when you look outside to see it’s still raining. Stupid fucking rain. 

Taglist: @lexie-wayland  @whew-oh-em-gee​ @winterlavenderskysworld​ @buck-this-nasty @heeyirenee 

[slytherinsnekxvii]

let's talk about severus snape. he's one of the most controversial characters the internet has to offer, with several blogs, channels and pages dedicated specifically to hating him, despite him having one of the most—if not the most—intriguing character arcs the series has to offer. so, as a result of me coming across far too many of said blogs, channels or pages, here's an extremely detailed explanation of why i like him and think he's easily one of my favourite characters :)

1. he's not that bad of a teacher.

just so you know, i'm a teenage girl fresh out of high school. so, my experience with teachers? still keeps me up at night :)

my family is pretty strict about religion. you can guess what that means. anything that was magic-adjacent, especially something that, god forbid, had an entire school dedicated to witchcraft and wizardry was a hard no if i wanted to have any sort of freedom over the media i paid attention to, and any opportunity to go about my life without being monitored to make sure i wasn't suddenly possessed or something. thanks to this, i ended up secretly reading the philosopher's stone in my last year of primary school. i would've been 11 at the time, just about to turn 12, so a little bit older than harry and co. going on what i'd heard from those who had already read the series, i went in expecting to absolutely despise this man. i went in expecting to read a demon. i finished the book and came out thinking... that really wasn't that bad.

my mom found out, so i didn't get to read the rest of the series until i ended up on the executive committee for my school's book club and my friends were appalled that i'd only read the first book. at this point, i'm still expecting him to get worse and... he just doesn't. when i was in primary school, i had multiple teachers break wooden meter-long rulers across my classmates' backs. the first time it happened, i was in infant year 2 (about 6/7 years old). i had teachers who would insult us, based on anything from hygiene to behaviour to intelligence if you looked at them wrong. my sister (who was three years ahead of me) had a teacher who kept her in hours after school was over because the teacher had a written a note in her workbook upside down, and when my sister corrected her, the teacher made her rewrite it, turning the book each time the note was written so it would never be done the correct way.

in secondary school, i had teachers who would actively humiliate us in front of the class if we didn't do as well as they wanted. i had teachers who would throw markers and whiteboard erasers at us if we did something they didn't like during class. i had a teacher who looked for a friend of mine who was petrified of attention and then mercilessly picked on her until she went to the bathrooms to cry. these are the kinds of teachers that i was used to. so, when i read harry potter and read snape, who would have probably been one of the nicer teachers i met in my lifetime, i thought to myself, he's really not that bad. he's just... strict.

antis claim that he traumatised every kid that ever went through his class, that he straight up abused them and... no. he didn't. all of them are comfortable talking back, they talk during his class, no one trembles when he walks past, except for neville, who usually bore the brunt of snape's anger because he was consistently messing up in a potentially lethal class.

after school, i hated the thought of formal education, so now i'm working until i feel ready to do university. coincidentally, one of my jobs is teaching maths and english to kids writing the end of primary and secondary school exams. given the sheer amount of annoyance i feel sometimes, i actually respect him for not being more harsh with them, especially when they're all running off into danger or exploding cauldrons.

he really isn't that bad of a teacher, and we know this, since his classes' owl results are said to be consistently good.

plus, he was written in the 90's when all this was okay behaviour for teachers. hell, compared to some of the teachers in text, given that he goes out of his way to make sure the students are always protected, he's a lot better than most people give him credit for.

2. i relate to him.

come on, the man grew up to be a dramatic, queer-coded, petty bitch who wears all black all the time and likely has at least one mental disorder. i'm a petty, emo bisexual with (actually diagnosed, don't worry) depression and anxiety and I'm in a theatre group. what did you really expect from me?

on a serious note, both of the schools i went to were considered "prestigious". i got into my primary school because of a teacher's recommendation (she was a family friend). the second school i got into was because i scored ridiculously high on the placement test that would determine which school i went to. in primary school, i was the poor, really awkward, really smart kid who got left out of everything, and my best friend was the only kid who was worse off than me.

in secondary school, i was just as smart as everyone else... but i was still poorer, and still more awkward and still got left out of everything.

i got that isolated feeling, that feeling of not being good enough, that feeling where life always seems to have it out for you and that's even though i still got dealt a better hand than snape ever did. so, i get it. i'm never ever going to have it as bad as he did, but i acknowledge what he went through and i sympathise, because i have a chance, but it only ever got worse for him.

3. i genuinely enjoy his character.

this dude went through absolute hell for basically his entire life. the best years he had were probably when he was neck-deep in the group of people who hated witches and wizards like him, but somehow managed to treat him better than the good guys.

all of that, and he still manages to be one of the most entertaining motherfuckers in the whole series, with one of the most interesting character arcs ever. it's the witty lines, the sheer dynamic of his character, the change from the twitchy, hypervigilant kid from the slums to the adult that managed to spy on the Dark Lord himself and save the wizarding world in the process, while still being a hot mess of a person. it's the managing to get shit done while everybody hated him and everything was going to hell. it's the everything, and i haven't even talked about how badass he is.

come on, potions prodigy turned master, exemplary duellist (cough, cough, winning 4-on-1 vs McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout and Slughorn, and leaving a scratch on nobody, while managing to not take a single hit himself, cough, cough), spellcrafter, spy and one of the only wizards to ever figure out unaided flight. dark arts master, proficient at healing (dumbledore would've been dead a lot sooner, if it weren't for him, most likely). he's one of the most powerful wizards of his time. i've said that any universe where he's actually a bad guy—or just legitimately loyal to the death eaters—is a universe where voldemort wins and this is why. if he was motivated by literally anything other than lily, the wizarding world was more than likely fucked.

the point is, i just think he's neat.

4. spite.

every time i appreciate snape, a snater feels like someone is walking over their grave. every time i appreciate snape, a snater turns blue out of sheer rage. every time i appreciate snape, a snater loses their mind looking for their non-existent reading comprehension.

the spite in my veins is tempered only by the broth of instant ramen and ungodly amounts of sugar, and i'm going to use them all in my mission to cause antis pain when they refuse to acknowledge their lack of critical thinking and analysis skills.

so, yeah. why do i actually like snape?

tl;dr: he's not that bad. for a teacher written in the 90's and compared to teachers i've had within the decade, the guy's just strict. sure, he's a dick (who i personally think is hilarious), but he always makes sure the students are safe and he didn't leave any lasting effect on any of the students. he's really not that bad of a teacher. and hell, he's not even that bad of a person. i fully admit that he was an asshole and i entirely believe he was prone to self-destructive behaviour, but he still tried to atone for his mistakes and he did, is the thing, even though the odds were stacked more or less completely against him. i like him because he entertains me, and because i relate to him, as a teen who went through some shit and probably would have joined up with some bad people if it weren't for my friends and family, and as a teacher who really can't stand my students sometimes. i also like him because it irritates people who don't like him :)

also, istg if any of you respond to this with "bUt hE was ObseSsED with LiLY and just WAnTEd to FUCK hEr," i'm crawling into your bedroom window with the most unrealistic, mangled interpretations of your favourite characters and making sure they haunt you in your dreams. meet me in the fuckin' pit, babe. reread the series, actually think about it and come with receipts that aren't Voldemort, because i don't think you want to have the same opinion as the character who canonically doesn't understand love, now, do you, sweetheart? when you do that, then, and only then, will i consider entertaining your bullshit :)

that's about it from me, thanks for reading!