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#it feels like such a fever dream to me now lol
carpisuns · 1 year
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hi i’m the artist of that tink piece you reblogged. i saw your tags and just had to come say omg same except my tink collection is very much still going 🙈 so glad i reach another tink collector with my art! 😂✨✨✨✨✨
i actually haven’t collected tinkerbell stuff in many years but i was obsessed with her when I was a kid! i started collecting tinkerbell stuff when I was like 10 and then I got so much of it as gifts for like the next 6 or 7 years lol. I don’t have any of it now but I had a Ridiculous amount of tinkerbell stuff when I was a teen.
Anyway although I am no longer a think collector I appreciated the cute art and I’m glad you are having fun with it!! I can attest that there is a lot of cute tink stuff out there so I hope you find some good ones ✨
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treasureplcnet · 6 months
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someone on the bodies production team you have to release more layout/bts pictures of charles whiteman's flat please. this is a great start but i need to know him better. particularly if it's got about as much mould as a second year uni house and if he owns as many chairs as it seems LOL
#ok the joke is at his expense but im already romanticising this shit#20-something loser karl weissman moves into the worst flat of all time and makes it a home#hangs a picture of his parents' wedding against the worst wallpaper you've ever seen#just buys what he likes and calls it decor#how else can you explain the fucking model boat next to the fucking telephone. AND YOU MAY TELL ME 'oh thats just random set stuff'#NOT TO ME!#and it stays until he's in his mid 30s. develops a habit of not cleaning up along the way#the shot where he seems to have taken off his shirt/tie/jacket and then dropped them off on various pieces of furniture. HE LIVES LIKE THIS#also entertaining the idea that its his parents' old stuff that he can't bring himself to throw out ..#i will created a fully fleshed out character using 8 episodes and fever dream visions if i have to#karl weissman#bodies netflix#edit: the original tags are above but since then i joined the discord and got to add these pictures LOL#saved this post as a draft bc i was like. i cant annoy people on the tag any more than i already have#doesnt matter. forcing this into the tag like a week after i made it anyway#im still so interested in the fact that it seems like there are more rooms that we never see#outside this bedroom and living space (and the bedroom isnt clear in the show either)#like. i rly need a 360 house tour NOW.#ALSO I FEEL LIKE A TOWN CRIER NO I DONT THINK HE HAS MOULD BUT IT WOULD BE FUNNY!!!!#the chair next to the liquor rly is something. hes MY babygirl
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coldvampire · 4 months
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fingertipsmp3 · 11 months
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Bro what is the verdict on tapping out of a book that may get better purely because it’s annoying
#library ebook so there’s no consequences if i just dnf & return it#but this shit is.. annoying#it was recommended as a disturbing short horror novella that ‘reads like a fever dream’ and i was all about that until i realised#it literally Does read like a fever dream. like. so far it feels like someone just transcribing their dream#like this is what would happen if i had better dream recall; wrote out one of my nightmares in detail and then later added in more stuff#and just lengthened it into a full book#and i’m really not a fan of dream sequences. like if i wanted to experience a nightmare i’d just have a boring day and then go to sleep#(i don’t know why but if i go to sleep anxious i just have a generic stress dream that doesn’t really bother me. but if i have a boring#and unstimulating day i will go to sleep and immediately have the worst night terrors known to man)#and like.. the occasional dream sequence in a book is nbd for me. but for damn near the WHOLE thing to basically be a dream??#i mean i know it’s (probably) not going to end with the classic ‘and she woke up and it was all a dream’ but it’s pretty heavily implied#to be one. and i’m just.. i’m not invested#it feels like the same things are happening over and over; the same punchlines. and there’s this one motif that i’m just like..#it doesn’t make any sense which is how i can tell it showed up in the author’s dream lol#it just is not the vibe. i was so hoping based on the synopsis of the book that this would go another way#but it isn’t. it’s not even scary because of it#i’m like…… girl i’m glad you got your night terror out on the page and owned it and made bank off of it but it isn’t actually fun to read#and i will be stopping now#personal
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literaryavenger · 5 months
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New Year's Eve
Summary: A game of two truths and a lie reveals to the team a fact about the you that Bucky can’t seem to stop thinking about.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader
Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language 'cause why not. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny. Mutual pining, idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts.
Word Count: 3.2K
A/N: Happy New Year's Eve! Thanks for all the messages when I was sick, I'm finally feeling better and I'm negative for Covid! I really wanted to post something for New Year's Eve and this came from a fever dream I had when I was sick, lol. I hope it's any good and someone enjoys it! A particular thank you to @ordelixx for helping me with this story!💘I've only started posting here about a month and a half but I'm really enjoying it and feeling more and more comfortable in my writing. I hope I'm also getting better at it. Anyway, I have big plans for the New Year that I hope you'll enjoy! This year hasn't been great for me, but I'm planning on working harder than ever to make sure the next one is a year I can be proud of. I hope you guys have a nice last day of 2023 and an amazing start of 2024! Love you all.💘
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“Ok, your turn, Kill Bill. Two truths and a lie, go.” Tony says, referring to the fact that you fight with swords, making you roll your eyes before you join in on the laughter.
“Ok, uhm...” you try not to look at anyone so you don’t give away the answer “I have a teddy bear that I sleep with, I have bungee jumped from the top of the tower and I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”
You look back up to the room and wait for their guesses.
It’s a Friday night and the people that remained in the Tower for the holidays decided to have a little game night.
Every year the same people stay around, having nowhere in particular to go, and spend Christmas together. 
Clint and Scott usually spend this time with their families, this year Thor decided to go to New Asgard with Bruce and Loki to visit Val and Korg, and Peter decided to spend it with aunt May and Happy.
You usually alternate between going to visit your family and staying in the tower each year, and this one was your turn to go to your first home.
You came back the day after Christmas, never being one to miss Tony’s New Year’s Eve party that’s gonna happen in two days now.
“Well, we know she has a teddy bear.” Wanda says.
“Do we know that?” Tony turns to you, narrowing his eyes. “Do you have one?”
“Yes, she does, we’ve seen it” Natasha answers for you while you glance at Bucky, praying he doesn’t put together that they’re talking about the teddy bear he gifted you for Valentine’s Day this year along with flowers. 
Natasha and Wanda were more happy than you when you told them, sustaining that he did it because he liked you until you pointed out that he gave flowers to them too, because he’s sweet and a gentleman and that’s just who he is.
They wouldn’t let up on the fact that neither of them got a teddy bear though, and you would have agreed with them but Bucky never really did anything else about it so you decided to let it go and not read too much into it.
You're brought back to the present by Tony.
“Ok, so she has one. Then it’s gotta be the New Year’s kiss, everyone has had one at least once in their life,” he was looking at your reaction very closely while talking, but you did your best to keep an easy smile and not give anything away.
“Even Captain Virgin over there had one last year.” he adds vaguely waving towards Steve’s general direction. 
You crack at the nickname and at the undignified sound Steve made while blushing and glancing at Nat that shared that kiss with him.
“Tony, there’s no way that she bungee jumped from the roof without us knowing, that’s gotta be the lie.” Sam interjects, also watching you closely for any signs of a reaction that you manage not to give.
“Alright, just take your guesses, people.” You say to the group.
“New Year’s Kiss.” Tony all but yelled, Natasha and Wanda agreeing with him.
“Bungee jump.” Sam says and Steve and Bucky agree, then they all seem to hold their breath as they wait for your answer.
It’s not a surprise that even these stupid little games cause a lot of competition amongst the team.
“Neither.”-you finally said and let out a laugh when they all groan in annoyance while taking their shots for guessing wrong.
“WAIT- you bungee jumped off the ROOF? When?!” Steve seems more concerned than anything.
“Well, you know a few months ago when we happened to all be on different missions at the same time?” They nod, not knowing where you're going with this “Clint and I came back first from ours, we were bored and there was no one around to stop us from doing anything stupid so…” you trail off, shrugging while laughing. 
Steve looks shocked, Sam is laughing his ass off while Tony immediately goes to look for the security footage.
They all cheered while watching you throw yourself off the roof, Clint's yells and laughter could be heard, and then Steve shakes his head while joining you in the laughter when you see Clint take his turn and scream like a little girl while you fall to the ground laughing on the video. 
Once you all composed yourselves, Tony pokes Wanda’s arm “I thought you said she had a teddy bear.” he's looking at her like she brought him on a treasure hunt and then betrayed him and left him for dead on a deserted island.
“She does! She got it from-” you interrupt her before she can finish the sentence, blushing a little and avoiding Bucky’s eyes.
“I do have a teddy bear, I just don’t sleep with it.” you say, shrugging.
“Oh, come on, that’s cheating!” Natasha whines.
“It’s really not, just because I do have one it doesn’t mean I didn’t tell a lie about it” you laugh at her pout.
“Wait a minute, so you’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?” Tony looks at you like you suddenly grew two heads.
“It’s not a big deal. Funny thing is, I have had boyfriends during New Year’s Eve, I just never happen to spend the day with them.” you say absentmindedly while thinking back at all the parties you’ve been to over the years to celebrate the new year.
“Really?” it's so quiet you almost missed it, your eyes snapping up to meet Bucky’s that were already looking at you.
“Is that so hard to believe?” The room seems to go quiet as everybody looks at you two, but you're too focused on each other to notice.
“I didn’t- I mean…” his cheeks started to turn a little pink as he seemed to have trouble finishing his sentence “It’s just you’re very pretty, who wouldn’t want to kiss you?”
You didn’t know what to say to that, you start blushing too while opening and closing your mouth a couple of times, looking like a damn fish.
You settle for a quiet ‘thank you’ with a smile that he shyly returns, neither of you noticing the glances passed by everyone else.
The whole team is convinced that there’s something between you and Bucky, but both of you always deny it and don’t seem to read too much into each other’s actions, always dismissing the glances and lingering touches as friendly affection even though you’re not really that close.
But really what else could it be?
The team lets the moment end and the game goes on, everyone keeps drinking and having fun until it gets really late and you all decide to call it a night.
Bucky goes to his bedroom and gets ready for sleep but he can’t seem to focus on anything else but you.
He really doesn’t understand how can anybody see your pretty self when you’ve just woken up, no makeup and your eyes full of sleep and not want to kiss you, let alone when you are all dolled up in a pretty golden dresses like you do every New Year’s. 
Every year it gets harder for him not to just grab you and kiss you, hell every day is pretty much torture to see you around the Compound and not get to be with you the way he wants to.
But he has to keep his hands to himself because there’s no way you could actually like him like that. 
He’s even tried to drop hints here and there like giving you the teddy bear for Valentine’s Day but, except for the cute shade of pink that your face turned, you still didn’t seem all that interested.
Still, that didn’t stop him from thinking what it would be like if you did like him and fantasize about being your first New Year’s kiss and maybe even your last first kiss.
At the same time you were in your own room getting ready for bed while your own thoughts kept going back to the moment you shared with Bucky in the living room. 
You didn’t know if you were more embarrassed because you actually told the team you’ve never had a kiss on New Year’s Eve or happy because Bucky called you pretty.
If it was anyone else you wouldn’t even think twice about it, but coming from him it just felt like you were being complimented for the first time ever. 
Everytime you thought about it you felt all warm and fuzzy inside, and at this point the moment was pretty much on loop in your mind.
The more you think about it the more you feel your face heat up, sleep not coming easily as you slip into Bucky filled dreams.
The next day everybody’s hanging out in the living room, most of them nursing a hangover from last night. You get ready for a last minute shopping trip to try and find a new dress for New Year’s Eve.
When you get to the living room you see Steve grinning at a disgruntled Tony, Wanda, Sam and Natasha who are obviously very hangover and nowhere near as amused as the blonde supersoldier. 
Bucky’s attention is on you as soon as you're in his field of vision and no one fails to notice it, except you of course, your own attention on Wanda and Natasha sprawled on the couch.
“Well, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come shopping with me,” you start watching from one to the other, as amused as Steve at everyone’s inability to contain themselves when drinking. “but I don’t think that’s happening.” 
“Bite me, YLN.” Is all Nat says.
Wanda, on the other hand, is a little gentler. “I can come with you, if you want.” she says sweetly.
“That’s okay, Wands.” you smile at her “just rest and drink lots of water.”
You turn around, saying bye to everyone and making your way out. As soon as the doors of the elevator close, everyone turns to Bucky that's not even pretending not to be staring anymore.
Not that anyone could ignore the longing look on Bucky’s face as he watches you walk away.
“Buck,” Steve starts talking, glancing at everyone before setting his gaze back on his best friend. “we need to talk.”
“Okay…” he slowly drags out, unsure if he even wants Steve to keep going.
“Well, we’ve been noticing some things lately…” He’s unsure of how to say this. “Between you and Y/N.”
Bucky’s cheeks start to turn a slight shade of pink, but he’s still not sure where Steve’s going with this so he says nothing.
“So we thought” he gestures around at everybody. “that maybe we should-”
“We know you like her, and we want to help you get with her.” Tony interrupts Steve, quickly getting to the point.
At Steve’s glare, Tony merely raises his hands in surrender saying, “Listen, Capsicle, I’m way too hungover to take the panoramic route. Let’s just get this over with.”
“Yeah, Stark’s right.” Sam says, turning Bucky whose face is fully red now. “You have a weak ass game, man. Let us help you.”
They all look at the brunette supersoldier while waiting for his answer. He chews on his lip while looking at the expectant faces of his friends, before letting out a deep sigh.
“How would you even help me?” He says quietly, neither accepting nor denying their help just yet.
“Well, we know Y/N,” Wanda says.
“Yeah, we can tell you what turns her on.” Natasha smirked, before Wanda flicks her ear making her let out an ‘ow’ with a slight pout.
“What she means is,” she glares at Natasha “we can tell you what she likes, you know. Maybe help you get closer to her.”
Bucky shakes his head lightly “This is not a good idea. And it doesn’t even matter if she doesn’t like me.”
Wanda and Natasha seem to have a silent conversation, ending with Natasha raising her eyebrow at Wanda and Wanda just sighing with a soft ‘fine’.
“She does like you.” Wanda turns back to Bucky.
“She’s just convinced that you don’t like her like that.” Natasha says with a roll of her eyes.
Bucky still wasn’t completely convinced, but he agreed nonetheless. Maybe it was the glimmer of hope the girls gave him, but if there was even the slightest chance you could actually like him, he owed it to himself to try. 
So he let the team make a plan to get you guys together, hoping to god he wouldn’t come to regret it.
You come home a few hours later, super excited to have found the perfect dress for the party the next night.
Bucky thought you were just so cute, all smiles and giggles.
Wanda and Nat talked you into having the last girls night of the year, although it didn’t really take much convincing.
And so the plan begins.
You’re relaxing on your bed, Wanda lying next to you, your head on her lap, and Nat sprawled on the love seat near the window close to your bed.
You’re wearing bathrobes, sheet masks on your faces as you watch a cheesy romcom that you’re so embarrassingly into you don’t even notice the girls exchange a look and nod at each other.
Wanda clears her throat and then begins talking, as casually as she can. “So, how come you never told us you never had a New Year’s kiss?”
They had to approach the subject somehow, right?
“I don’t know,” you say absentmindedly and then shrug, your attention still on the Tv. “didn’t think it was important.” 
“Sure it isn’t.” Nat said, and her tone took your attention away from the movie for the first time since it started.
“What’s that supposed to mean, Tasha?” she simply shrugs, an innocent look in the face.
“It doesn’t mean anything” she says, her attention seemingly on the movie “I mean, if it doesn’t bother you, it doesn’t bother me.”
“Why would it bother me?” you frown, you don't understand what's so weird about this.
“Well, some people might find it a little…” Wanda trails off.
“Sad?” Natasha ends for her.
“It’s not like I’ve never kissed anyone.” you're starting to get a little defensive.
“We know that, sweetie.” Wanda coos, stroking your hair while you look up at her.
“We really didn’t mean anything by it.” Natasha ends, giving you an apologetic look.
“Yeah, whatever.” is all you say, and you turn your eyes back to the tv, your attention nowhere near it.
Natasha and Wanda can basically hear the gears turn in your head and give each other one last glance. 
Part one of the plan is complete.
The next day goes through like usual, the team spending basically the whole morning together.
It’s a tradition, having the last breakfast of the year together, watching the last movie, having the last lunch and so on. Doing all the lasts together.
It’s silly, but it’s a tradition you've all come to be very fond of. 
The afternoon comes and you and the girls spend it getting ready for the party, last night’s conversation almost forgotten.
Almost.
As you got to the party the music was deafening before you even stepped out of the elevator and, once you did, you were immediately immersed in a sea of perfume and cologne and, like every other Stark party extravaganza, you didn’t know about 98% of the people there. 
You quickly find the team, as outgoing as most of them are, you usually spend most of the night together because it’s the last night of the year, last party and, again, it's your tradition.
You talk, you joke, you laugh but the more you drink the more you keep thinking about your conversation with the girls last night.
Was it really that sad that you’ve never started a new year with a kiss?
Midnight came sooner than you would’ve liked and your teammates decide to ask you a sobering question.
“So, who are you kissing?” Tony asks very casually.
You turn around confused, the team’s eyes all on you. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, nobody told you?” Sam says, looking around him “We’re all kissing someone tonight.”
“I- You- What?” you glance towards Bucky so quickly he almost thought he imagined it.
“Well, Romanoff is kissing Rogers, I’m obviously kissing Pepper and Wanda is kissing Wilson.” Tony said, before specifying while pointing at the last two “As friends, obviously.”
“So, you’re all kissing someone?” You look at everyone except the one person you actually want to look at.
Something inside of you just believes that he would nod too and a beautiful woman that you could never compare to would appear at his side.
“Well,” Steve starts. “not all of us…”
He trails off and, following his gaze, you land on the very pair of blue eyes you were trying to avoid.
Suddenly everyone else scatters and it was just you and Bucky. You don't know what to say, but you feel like you can't look away from him now.
What the hell is happening to you?
You’re talking before you can even stop yourself “You know, we could also kiss. As friends.” you add, realizing what you just said, your eyes wide with your own surprise.
He’s about to say something, but you don’t give him a chance to get a sound out before you’re backtracking so fast you might actually fall out the window.
“You don’t have to. Obviously. It’s not like I’d make you.” you chuckled awkwardly, but you can’t stop yourself from rambling “Unless you wanted to. But why would you want to? It’s not like you’re missing anything. I’m not anything special.”
You can hear the countdown starting, but it sounds distant to your ears as your heart pounds faster. “I mean, I’m sure you’re a good kisser. Why wouldn’t you be? Not that you’re like a lady’s man.”
Bucky glances around him, the team giving him encouraging looks as they near zero and you just keep going “But like you were, you know. Not that it’s a bad thi-”
You're thankfully interrupted abruptly by Bucky’s lips on yours just as everyone yells ‘Happy New Year’ and gold and black confetti starts falling down on you.
You can't even begin to comprehend what's happening but your body does, kissing him back almost immediately.
It feels like forever and also too soon when he pulls away, you can't even hearing the chaos around you anymore.
All that exists is you and Bucky and his eyes and his arms around your waist and yours around his neck and his lips that you wanted to kiss again and kiss forever and never stop.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that” he says after a few seconds. Or maybe days. Weeks? Hours? It doesn’t matter.
All that matters is the bright smile he gives you when you say “Me too.”
He kisses you again, but this time the spell is broken by the team’s whistles and cheers. 
When you pull away you’re both blushing a little, you glance around you and see all the smug faces of the idiots you love to death, Bucky’s attention never leaving you.
“And by the way,” Bucky says, gaining your attention once more. “you have more qualities than you think,” he then pointed at your chest “You have this.”
You looked down to where he was pointing before saying “I do have great tits, yes.”
When you looked back at him he was blushing even harder and looked like he was having a hard time maintaining eye contact, while you were more relaxed now that the kiss took away all the awkwardness, but trying hard not to laugh. 
“... I meant heart” he said after a few moments of silence.
“Either or.” you answered, shrugging and when you heard the snickers of the team around you, you couldn’t help but join them, followed by a still blushing Bucky.
Yep, this year is definitely gonna be an interesting one.
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illogicallyx · 8 months
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thoughts and distractions
content: gojo satoru x fem!reader + established relationship.
warnings: fluff, reader is perched on gojo's lap , uhhh shit ton of grammatical errors i don't have time to fix ig paired with weird and hasty writing ig yeah. i still love this piece lol it feels like a fever dream reading it back
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a giggle echoes out in the room.
"what's gotten into you, baby?" satoru closes his eyes as he feels you rub your cheek against him like cats do.
he had been waiting for you to come home from your work. it was his favourite part of the day, waiting for you to come home and have you sit on his lap and ramble on about your day at work. it was common for you to be clingy towards him, he wasn't any better with you either.
but today you were clingier than usual, it was like you were trying to merge into him — not that he minded.
you hadn't even bothered to take off your shoes which were usually the first to go when you came home, making a beeline for his lap the moment you got through the door and started peppering his face with kisses, making his heart soar along with his eyebrows, prompting him to ask the question with an airy laugh.
"i missed you a lot today" a sigh leaves your lips as you voice out the reason for your needy behaviour, hands fisting the white tee he likes to wear around the house.
this was true, there was something about the day that kept making your brain revert back to his blue eyes that reminded you of the sky, his laugh that makes you feel like your heart is bursting from joy whenever you hear it and his overall presence that makes you gravitate towards him like a sunflower follows wherever the sun goes.
"yeah? what did you miss about me?" he hums at you, mouth pressing a kiss to your temple as you close your eyes and simply breathe, body feeling like you'd explode from the love and touch of the man who's currently holding your hips.
your hands travel to the back of his neck, fingers playing with the short hair from his undercut as you try to remember the exact thoughts you kept having as you worked.
a smile breaks out when you hear satoru let out a purring-like sound from his throat when he feels your fingers in his hair, he'd always been sensitive there.
you pull away from the side of his face and press your forehead to his. "well the first thought was about your eyes" you whisper to him, like you are sharing a secret with him. but it's never been a secret, not to him and not to anybody else.
it had always been obvious when your sudden change in favourite colour had drastically and funnily gone from dark red to blue, there was not a single shade of blue that had gone unloved by you when you started loving satoru. you had behaved like it was a crime to get anything that didnt have a dot of blue.
"well duh, everyone and their mother knows how much you love my eyes" satoru replies with an eyeroll that earns him a smack to the back of his head, your pretty lips forming a pout that matches his own now as one of his hands come up to rub where you hit him.
"now you've ruined the mood, get off me" you wiggle around in his lap, half heartedly untangling yourself from him.
"get off you? you're the one laying on top of me" he retorts as he watches you get up with hasty movements, causing some of your hair to fall in front of your face.
you look at him with faux irritation and card your fingers through your own hair, flipping them back and whip around to finally take the awful heels off when you're suddenly being pulled from behind, definitely by the big oaf you call your boyfriend.
satoru laughs a little in your neck when you still resist his hold on you as he gets you back on his lap. a tender kiss to your neck has you melting right back into his chest.
"where you off to, missy? you still have to list your thoughts to me" he says with a smirk. his smirk turns into a fond smile when he hears and feels your laughter as he tickles your side slightly.
his own heart bursting with joy at the sound of laughter of his love, just like yours does with his.
just like it always will.
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rush-the-stars · 16 days
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AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART III
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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.8k || ao3 || <- part ii || masterlist ||
minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only
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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”
***
Suguru tries to tame you.
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✧ SPRING FEVER collab ✧
cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, fainting, fainting from lack of food, reader refuses to eat because she doesn't want getou to feed her, getou does not let reader eat unless he feeds them; forced feeding. forced bathing, smut; masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?
a/n: happy mother's day to alpha suguru getou <3 this is the third and final part of this lil series for @lorelune 's spring fever collab! pls mind the warnings, i added some! i will be honest this part feels like a fever dream to myself lol...,.not beta read..,.i barely read it back bc im terrified of my own smut JFDKLSK enjoy LMAO but on a real note, thank you to everyone who has reached out and been so kind ab this fic! i hope you enjoy this last part! let me know your thoughts <33
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When Suguru first offers you food from his own hand, you push it away. He cooked it for you and you refuse it, turn your nose up at him and shut your mouth resolutely, feel your lips cage your teeth like a muzzle
“I’ll do it myself.” You tell him firmly. 
But then he holds the food away from you. 
You go nearly a day and a half, feverish and woozy, without eating. 
You do not plan on conceding, but end up fainting not long after. Your body is under too much stress; you need sustenance. You need food and water. 
So he begins to feed you as your lashes flutter and you are too weak to deny him this time. 
It’s easier, when you can hardly keep your eyes open. His hands are impossibly gentle. You feel his fingers against your lips, careful, and loving. 
When you’re feeling better, you glower at him. 
He is rather pleased, though. 
The next time he tries to feed you by hand, you turn and bite his hand, sink your teeth into the meat of it. 
He laughs warmly, fondly. 
“Feel better to get that out of your system?” He asks, when you finally pull away. 
You don’t respond to him.
He grabs your face swiftly then, big hand fitting around your jaw and bearing down. This time, he holds you steady, and brings the slice of orange to your mouth. 
You squirm, but he says, “I will not have you fainting again.” 
“Let me feed myself then.” You manage to get out, but he holds you tighter, presses at your jaw to get it to unhinge. 
The orange pops into your mouth. 
“You’re insufferable.” You say around it, cheek puffed with the fruit. 
Unfortunately, it’s good. Sweet. A little cool. Refreshing. You do want more. 
“This doesn’t have to be so difficult.” He responds evenly, peeling away the next piece of the orange. It looks so small in his hands. 
You swallow the piece in your mouth. 
“You’re right,” you respond stubbornly, “it doesn’t.” You reach for the next piece but he holds it away from you. 
Frustration overcomes you, chokes you like thorny vines strangling out the softer plants around them. Heat hits your face again and you have to wonder if you’ll ever get over it all. If he’ll ever stop making you feel this way.
Tears prick your eyes again. 
You turn your face away from him. He sighs. 
“It isn’t so bad,” he says softly, “if you’d just give in.” 
You sniff. “I could say the same of you.” 
“I’m trying to take care of you,” he says, “and at every turn, you are still trying to refuse it.” 
“I don’t need—”
“But don’t you want it?” He asks gently, hand reaching out slowly, knuckles first, so they skim your cheek. “It’s okay to want.” 
Stubbornly, you remain silent. 
“You’ve been so alone, for so long, my little stray. It’s okay to be taken care of.” He consoles softly, voice just a rumble that warms to your ears. 
“I’ll not think you any less strong, if you let me feed you now.” He promises, “if you let me care for you this week.” 
You don’t know why, but a tear slips down your cheek. There’s a lump in your throat, hard and aching, and threatening your resolve. 
He catches your tear with a thumb. “Poor thing, so torn up.” 
You sniff hard, trying to hold everything in. It’s trembling and tender, though, your heart. The ache in your chest.
You don’t think you’ll win this one—
Your head is foggy and throbbing. You don’t even know what you’re winning or losing. Or what you’re fighting for, when he puts it that way. 
You feel silly for denying him.
Perhaps worse for agreeing.
Finally, in a voice smaller than intended? you ask, “can I have another piece?” 
Suguru studies you for a moment. 
He lifts the curved bend of the orange up to your lips, testing. Waiting. It's a half moon curve, ripe and tempting.
You give in and part your lips, accept the crescent into your mouth like holding the moon on your tongue for him. 
He presses it inside, on your tongue, and you accept the crescent like holding a soft, tangerine moon in your mouth for him. His fingers skim your teeth, placing a world there, on your tongue.
“Good girl,” he says, pleased and warm, when you close around the slice. 
And then you obediently swallow it down—worldeater that you are, hungry dog that you are. 
Another tear slips free as you chew it slowly. It’s tangy and sweet and lovely. You feel the well of emotions inside you open up, threatening to drag you down into its depths—you think if you start to cry now, you won’t ever stop.
Suguru dutifully peels off another piece of orange, making sure it’s free of rind or unwanted seeds. 
When he lifts it to your mouth, you open readily for it now. Close your lips around his fingers gently, around the sweet orange.
With tears in your eyes, you look up at him, through wet lashes. 
His scent has darkened, pungent and spicier. It lingers in the back of your mouth. It’s—it makes your head spin.
And there's a strange look in his eyes now. 
Almost hungry himself, if you didn’t know better. 
A cramp rolls through you, hips and lower back churning, and you whimper, reaching for him. 
He takes hold of you easily. 
“Hurts?” He muses softly.
You nod, tense and quick. 
“Breathe,” he urges, shifting between your knees from where you’re sitting perched on his counter. 
Instinctively, you cling to him.
You let yourself pull him closer, fit himself to you—
“Breathe,” he says again gently.
But you can feel him between your legs, you can feel his own desire, and it strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Like crashing to earth.
He’s hard and heat sweeps through you in a whirlwind, so fast it makes you feel dizzy. Your head spins as you sink your nails deep into him, bear down with your strength like a bad dog, like you could get him to stay. 
Distantly, you think he’s such a strange, awful man. 
Is he so turned on from feeding you? Or from the fight? 
“Suguru,” you mewl, clinging to him desperately. And he holds you, keeps you close, until your hips twitch. 
You seek friction and he denies you. 
Frustratingly, tears spring to your eyes again. 
“You’re so—“ you try to get out, “why are you also denying yourself?” 
“Because I made you a promise.” Suguru responds evenly. He pauses, eyes flickering over you, a lightning flash of violet, “and, perhaps,” he squeezes your waist, “to teach you a lesson.” 
A noise of frustration works its way out of you, a little growl or whine, somewhere in the back of your throat. 
“Won’t you do anything to help me?” You get out, pawing at his shoulders, his chest. 
“I’m feeding you,” he says, “I’m caring for you.” 
And then he draws away, back to the orange, and your fingers grip the edge of the counter until pain presses into them. You have to force air into your lungs, try and make your head stop spinning. 
The wooziness and the aching is perhaps the worst part. You feel out of your mind, wish you could crawl out of your body. 
When Suguru returns, he has another piece of orange between his fingers. 
You glare up at him with glassy eyes. 
“Open,” he says, warm and low.
Pleased.
Turned on. 
Your lips part and you accept the fruit and his fingers into your mouth. You let yourself close around them, feel his knuckles on the inside of your warm, wet cheek. 
You’re slow about it, or maybe he is. 
You hold his gaze furiously. 
Maybe it was time you taught him a lesson, too. You bite down hard into the orange. It bursts in your mouth. 
***
The third day is perhaps the worst.
You’re so hot and somehow both overstimulated and undertouched. Your skin crawls until Suguru touches you. You ache in a way that makes you fear for your own health; several times you start to cry—not just cry, but bawl—from the pain. From the frustration.
At one point, you beg Suguru to take you to the hospital. To help you. To save you. 
You babble that you’re going to split apart. You’re going to lose your mind.
Like a colicky baby, you can’t calm down. 
And this time, he can’t quite seem to soothe you, either.
You twist and turn and pull at your clothes and your hair. You dig your nails into your own skin and drag them down in vicious, curving marks. 
You press and scratch at inflamed, painful scent glands. 
Your jaw hurts strangely in the joints. 
(You realize you want something in your mouth. Maybe you want it between your teeth.) 
Suguru tries to hold your hands away from yourself, tries to keep you from tearing into your own skin, but it only worsens you. It only makes you fight harder and cry harder. You lash out more, using more force with yourself, with him. 
When he snaps finally, pinning you roughly and with a flash of his sharper, greater canines, something inside of you howls. 
All you can do is beg and plead and cry. Press up against him desperately. Sink your face into his throat and inhale and—
Bite.
Your teeth close around the skin of his throat and bear down harshly.
He inhales sharply, spine going rigid with the pain for a moment.
You taste his blood on your tongue and feel your eyes roll blissfully to the back of your head. Darkness as your lashes flutter shut. You whimper into his throat—
“Is that what you needed?” He hisses, slipping his hand behind you to cradle your head to him, to keep you at his throat, “you just needed to get your teeth into me?” 
As if in response, you twine yourself around him, hitching your legs around his waist. Your arms winding around his broad shoulders, as if you could absorb him into your very body, your very soul. 
“Too bad it won’t take, hm?” Suguru muses, unmoving, allowing himself to melt into your vice grip on him. 
You make a soft noise; one that would be embarrassing if you didn’t—if you weren’t so—
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To Mark me properly?” He continues, voice bedroom soft, “you want to scar me with your own teeth?” 
As if in response, you try and fasten your mouth down harder, grinder your teeth into his flesh until he groans. The sound reverberates through you, rattles around inside your head until you’re mindless with it. 
When you finally manage to unlatch your teeth, he hisses and pulls away to grab your jaw. 
“What a little beast,” he sneers at you, “with my blood all over your mouth.” 
Something inside of you snaps. 
Unintentionally, you shudder into your cursed form—teeth elongating, nails sharpening. Strength rips through your otherwise feeble, heat-laddled body. In a sudden move of power, you shove him hard, and throw him off you. 
In an instant, you are back atop him. 
This time, when your teeth sink into the juncture of his other shoulder, they are far longer. 
He actually cries out in pain. 
The sound sparks beneath your skin, roars to life like a sudden fire and when he tries to grab your jaw and pry you off him, your claws sink into his wrist. 
You struggle with each other, using your cursed energy, using all the strength you have. 
Blood drips down his chest, dampening the collar of his shirt. 
He barks out a pained laugh, “you really are a curse.”
And then he is forcing you off of him, wrenching your teeth out of his skin in a brutal drag, shoving you away from him. 
You hiss, baring your dripping fangs at him and he growls back. The sound low and primal. Warning bells ping around your head, but you lunge for him again. 
This time, he isn’t so ill-prepared. 
He grapples with you on the bed, shoving you down into it with his forearm bearing down hard into your chest. 
You make a noise of pain but he doesn’t let up.
He’s panting and bleeding, his long hair slipping from its usual half-up appearance. 
Something inside of you is quite pleased at the image of him. 
Not so pristine. 
Perhaps unsure, for once in all the time you’ve known him. 
“Calm down.” He says low and soft. Part growl, part purr. “Your aggression is misguided.” 
Your teeth are bared in a snarl, “you are my tormentor.” 
“I am only respecting your wishes.” Suguru says and there is a horrible, smug lift to the corner of his lips. Maybe it’s more a threat of his teeth, which gleam in the lowlight. “I made you a promise and I’m keeping it.” 
“Let me up,” you snap. 
“Will you be good?” Suguru asks. 
Your fever spikes, tears pricking again at your eyes, and you finally lose your transformation. It melts from you, until you are fangless and drained once more. 
So drained, in fact, that your eyes gutter.
Suguru is off you in an instant. Air rushes into your lungs, the pressure from your chest lifting and he lets you heave for breath rough and hard. 
You don’t catch him move, but suddenly a glass of water is brought to your lips. When you can breathe, you drink. You let him guide it to your lips. And this time, when you try to pull away, he stops you. 
His hand cradles the back of your head, keeping your mouth to the glass.
“More,” he presses, “you’re weaker than you know.” 
And for once, you don’t fight him. 
You gulp down the rest of it, some of it slipping from your mouth, down your chin, rolling down your working throat. It’s cool but barely a balm to the oppressive heat inside of you. 
When you finish, Suguru pulls the glass away. He sets it down and studies you.
He tsks softly, “you’re a mess.” 
You take him in, though your eyes are growing heavy, all of that fighting took a lot out of you. It’s catching up with you quickly now. 
But your eyes land on the bite marks you’ve littered him with. The one, specifically, that is still ringed and bleeding, dripping down his chest. 
“So are you.” You reply, words slurring. 
You don’t catch what he says next, muffled, as you fade from consciousness. Darkness sweeps in to cradle you, much the way Suguru is now, and you fall into a restless sleep. 
***
Suguru wakes you at some point. 
It’s pitch black outside the window; there is very little light in the room at all, which adds to your confusion. Your head is throbbing. 
You whimper. 
“Sit up for me,” his voice is a hush, “can you do that?” 
“Let me sleep,” you reply, pushing weakly at him as he forces you up. Everything swims. Your head lolls like a doll and he catches it so you don’t give yourself whiplash. 
“You’re burning up,” he replies, “I need to get the fever down.” 
You don’t have the wherewithal to understand this. 
For a moment, you hope that he means—
“I’m going to give you a bath.” 
You make another noise, this one in disagreement. Fussy. 
He tuts softly at you, the way mothers do at bad children, and then he disappears, allowing you to fall back against the bed once more. 
You’re not sure for how long, but you doze off again, unable to keep your eyes open. You only awake when Suguru lifts you clear from the bed and into his arms. Again, you make a noise of protest, pushing weakly at him, but he pays you no mind. 
You open your eyes and wince against the bathroom light. 
The bath is running, filling with water. You frown and squirm in his hold, just as he gently sets you on the floor beside the tub. 
“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he murmurs and you push his hands away.
“No,” you snap, “leave.” 
He sighs, “you can hardly sit up right now. I don’t trust you in the bath alone.” 
“I’m not a child,” you protest.
“No, but you’re experiencing a compounded Heat, after years of not having one and you don’t have a knot to soothe you.” Suguru’s voice is cool. His eyes are, too. 
You level him with the best glare you can manage, “and whose fault is that?” 
“I’m only keeping my promise.” He almost sings. 
You swat at him but he catches your wrist easily and pulls you up further as you begin to slouch further and further down against the edge of the tub. “Come,” he says, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 
This time, when he reaches to remove your shirt, you only grumble in protest. He peels it from you carefully, revealing bare skin. Despite how hot you are, you shiver hard. 
You ache. 
This is the worst fever you’ve ever had. Perhaps, this is one of the worst you’ve felt ever. 
You can hardly move enough to allow Suguru to slip your bottoms off and you feel so miserable that you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed or frustrated or angry. 
Tears bead at your eyes again but it’s purely because you are in so much pain. 
Suguru lifts you into the bath. 
It’s lukewarm. Tufts of bubbles smell like lavender. The water is milky and gentle. 
You don’t realize it, but you’ve started to cry again, reaching out for Suguru. You realize he’s cleaned and bandaged his bite mark. He also coos to you, rolling up his sleeves to reach you in the water, stroking at your throat, your cheek.
And then he takes a wash cloth in hand and begins to do the same. He bathes you with a strange gentleness. A gentleness you have not given him. Your tears continue, tracking down your face, which he dutifully washes, too. He wipes away your tears, any sweat and grime, until you feel shining and new.
Eventually, you rest your arms on the lip of the bathtub, folded, and lay your cheek against them. You’re exhausted and still hurting, but at least quiet for now. At least you are cleaned and—
Suguru strokes at your cheek, traces the curve and folds of your ear, gently strokes through your hair. 
“Poor thing,” Suguru murmurs, knuckles drawing across your jaw, down your throat. When he passes along your scent gland, you shiver, you wince a little. 
“Hurts,” you get out and he coos more to you.
Babying you.
And you don’t have the strength to deny him any longer, so you let yourself be babied. You whimper at him and let him try to soothe you, you let him quiet and pet you. 
You’re looking at each other rather frankly, through the haze of your Heat, through all the lust or aggression or fear. In a rare moment of peace, you gaze up at his face and he looks down into yours. 
“Do you hate me?” You ask and your voice is rather raw from all the crying, “is that why you’ve led me here?” 
A strangely fond smile touches his lips, “on the contrary,” Suguru replies, fingers careful along your cheek, “I adore you.” 
“You have such a strange way of showing it.” You tell him. 
“I’m only keeping my promise,” he says again and all you have in you is a deep, dejected sigh. 
“I’m going to make you pay for this, Suguru.” And though your tone is docile, even sleepy, it is a promise. 
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try.” He agrees, touch growing stronger, bolder, as he pets down your throat, your shoulder. You lean into the touch like a cat, too exhausted to deny it. “And I’ll still be here after—your ire or punishment will not scare me away.” 
You look at him for a moment, long and hard, and only find the truth there. Something strangely raw.
After a moment, you say, “I know.” 
He hums softly, leaning forward to give your burning forehead a rare and gentle kiss, “do your worst, then.” 
You pick your head up barely, tilt your face to his and catch him in a sudden, burning kiss. 
You pull away as quickly as you’d done it. 
You can tell you’ve surprised him only momentarily, it passes over his features like a bird flickering through the sky, there and gone. 
And you say, “no,” soft, and against his lips, “I’ll do my best this time.” 
He pulls away, creating carefully controlled distance. “Come,” he says, urging you up and out of the bath, “let’s get you to bed.” 
“Carry me?” You ask as he bundles you into a soft towel. “Let me wear your shirt?” 
His eyes glint violet, dark and quick, but he says, “of course.” And indulges you.
He even holds you all night and lets you sleep in late. 
The fever only worsens. 
And you can’t tell if your resolve crumbles or strengthens; but either way, you’re born anew with the sun the next day. 
*** 
Suguru woke up before you. He let you sleep in. But now you're awake and waiting for him. When Suguru returns to wake you in the early afternoon, instead of sleeping, you are half-lidded and sun-warmed, laying in his sheets still. The fever has reached a pitch inside you. You’re sure it’s done irreparable damage to your mind and psyche because of how you find yourself.
Because of how Suguru finds you. 
The shirt of his you’d worn to bed is pushed up to your chin, revealing your bare chest, your stomach, flexing and twitching, with your legs spread. Your fingers between them, working messily against yourself, against where you’ve needed since your Heat began. 
For once, you have shocked Suguru. 
Enough that his lips part. 
Just a flash, a ripple of his features, before he smooths them out quickly. Effortlessly. But it is enough to spur you on regardless, to feel just slightly triumphant. 
You keen softly, arching your back, pushing your fingers gently through silken folds. 
“Suguru,” you mewl his name, all soft and broken, arching your hips into your own touch desperately. Beyond your desire for revenge, is simply your desire, the need to feel full, to feel pleasure like this. And you reasoned with yourself, all night, and all morning, that you’d win regardless; either you’d wrestle his tightly held control from his grasp, and get what you so desperately want from him, or you’d still get to touch yourself and find some brief moment of reprieve. 
Beyond either of those two things, you could not think. They ran around your mind like wild, starved dogs hunting down the possibility of a rabbit. 
(Or are you the rabbit? Running around and around your mind, trying to escape the bite? Or are you looking for it?) 
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks and for a moment, he doesn’t dare step closer to you or the bed. 
You push a finger inside yourself, it goes in easy—so slick and easy—that the next pass, you add a second and gasp. 
What are you doing? You feel half out of your mind. 
“Can’t help it—” you get out, “it hurts so bad. It’s—I’m so—” 
You watch a muscle in his jaw feather and tick. His scent is—
It hits you like a blow to the chest, the way he smells. It’s dark and spiced with warmth; tobacco and the oud in his scent has become heavier. You can almost taste it in the air.
“Suguru—“ you mewl again, pleading and cloying. You tilt your hips up towards your hand, towards him. You’re trying to entice him. 
You can nearly hear the way his teeth grind together. 
“You’re a brat,” he hisses but you can sense the way his control has slipped and thinned. You can nearly feel it fraying in his voice alone.
You practically purr, fingers pushing desperately inside yourself. 
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you simper, “I’ve been so good letting you feed me and bathe me—I’m wearing the shirt you put me in, too.” 
For a moment, you watch as his eyes slowly dip down the length of your body, to where your fingers are. You watch his expression flicker, the tilt of his eyebrows, the slight parting of his lips. You whimper, knowing he’s watching, and try to curl your fingers. 
But they don’t reach as deep as his might—not thick enough, either, and the ache inside you grows monstrously. 
Perhaps only soothed by the way, for once, you’ve rendered Suguru Getou rather speechless. You toss your head back and moan at the thought. 
“Suguru—won’t you help me? Even a little?” You arch off the bed and catch his gaze when his eyes fly back up to your face. 
“No,” he snaps quickly, “I promised you—“
“Then tell me what to do—talk to me.” You beg, “it hurts so bad, Suguru—“
The muscle in his jaw feathers again. But this time, he wades carefully into the room, stepping closer to the edge of the bed.
The moment he’s there, you adjust so he can see you better, move so your foot is just nearly touching his thigh at the end of the bed. And even that small potential for touch has you crying out again. 
“I’m not sure I should, after the way you’ve been acting.” He says and though he’s trying for casualness, you can sense the tension lurking underneath.
“Touch yourself then,” you breathe, your own eyes drifting down to his sweatpants—to the noticeable bulge—
In a bold move, you place your foot on his lower abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes as your fingers gently push in and out, walls fluttering desperately around them.
He catches your ankle before you can move another inch. The way he squeezes you makes a thrill run through you, race up your spine, pool somewhere low and hot in the depths of you. 
“Is this your way of trying to make me suffer?” He asks and despite everything, a hint of a smile flickers across your heated, panting face.
“Is it working?” You ask. 
All he does is hum, thumb stroking along the bone of your ankle.
Even that is enough for pleasure to skitter and flare beneath your skin. 
“Wanna see you,” you get out, breathy and soft, “wanna see what I’m missing.”
Suguru curses and you laugh, delirious and soft.
Pleasure blushes and surges beneath your skin. 
“No,” he says again but he has to grind the word out, pull it and wrestle it from his own mouth. “You won’t get the better of me here.” 
“Don’t you get tired of your tightly wound control?” You get out, twisting a little so that you might free your ankle from his grasp, but he holds firm.
“I should be asking the same of you—but clearly,” his eyes flicker again, “you do.” 
“Need you so bad—“ you get out, almost pouting. 
You can nearly hear his teeth grind together. He inhales sharply, as if to try and steady himself, but you can tell it only worsens him. Your scent must be thick in the air, sweetened and cloying.
Your fingers slip messily, desperately, over your clit, down inside of yourself and back out. You whine, a little frustrated, trying again and again to satiate the ache inside of you. But anything you do, isn’t enough. 
It almost feels as if it’s made it worse. 
“Poor thing,” Suguru finally says and you realize, he’s regained some of his composure, “look what you’ve done to yourself.” 
You curse this time. 
But you press on, unwilling to give up your win yet, “you’ve also done this—because you wanted the upper hand so bad.” You press inside yourself, hips lifting towards your fingers, “you didn’t have to take the suppressants.” 
His brow flickers up, “I did it for you.” 
“Did you?” You gasp, adding a second finger. 
He swallows, eyes falling to the apex of your thighs, watching, as you fitfully try to pleasure yourself. 
“You didn’t have to—you could’ve let me trigger your Rut. Then we both would’ve been like this—” your voice hitches, “then you would’ve gotten what you wanted sooner and you could’ve feigned innocence.” 
“You didn’t want that,” he says, watching you carefully, “who's to say you won’t come out of this Heat and resist me again?”  
“I won’t,” you breathe, “I did—” you mewl, hips arching and falling, trying so hard, working yourself up so horribly. 
You bite off a groan. 
Suguru clicks his tongue, makes a soft, disapproving noise. “And now look at you,” his hand slides along your calf, so large, and—
“Don’t even know how to properly touch yourself.” 
“Suguru—” 
Suddenly, he tugs you gently, so you’re down at the edge of the bed, your legs on either side of his thighs as he stands above you. 
He leans down slightly and you sit up, towards him, hoping, desperate—
“Such a terrible, little Omega. Do you need me to teach you this, too? Do you need me to help you?” 
You cry out, kitten soft, as needy and tender as a child. 
“Please,” you beg, “please, I need you—”
His hand traces up the outside of your calf, up to your thigh and you squirm, hope fluttering, heart racing—
“Don’t move,” he murmurs, “or I won’t help you.” 
“Suguru,” you growl in frustration. 
“Ah, ah, I thought you were being good?” 
Your head spins—you have no idea how he managed to flip it on you so sharply, but suddenly he has, and suddenly you're nearly underneath him, and he’s leaning over you and watching so intensely—so— 
You try to go still for him. Your chest is heaving. 
“That’s it,” he murmurs and his hand slowly arcs over the bend of your hip, and towards your stomach. Your hips twitch and he stills, “careful—” he warns. 
You force yourself to freeze, still panting. 
And then he lays the broadness of his hand on your lower stomach, his thumb just barely brushing your mound. 
“This is as far as I’ll go,” he says and with the way you almost fall into a frustrated groan, he seizes your chin with his other hand, “I’ll not touch you sexually. This is all I’ll give you—be grateful for even this.” 
You sneer at him and he takes his hand away. 
Instantly, you miss the warmth, the pressure, the—
“Be good, or I’ll leave the room now and let you suffer even worse than before—see what you’ve done to yourself? Worked yourself up so horribly, and all for what?”  Suguru’s voice is soft and smooth and so, horribly in control again. When did he get it back? When did he take it from you? 
“My attention? The hopes that I’d give in?” He asks. 
When you don’t respond, he squeezes your face, prompting you, “answer me, pet.” 
“Yes—I want your attention. I want—” the words break over you like a wave, the realization like a blow. You want. 
You desire. 
You want him. You want an Alpha and not just any Alpha but Suguru, despite everything, maybe because of everything. Maybe because you made him chase, and he did. Maybe because you have run your whole life from this—this attention and this desire and this intimacy—and you have finally found someone willing to hunt you down like a fox, and in the face of your gnashing teeth and growling and yipping, to treat you gently. Like you’re a beloved house pet and not a snarling, wild beast. 
“I want you,” you say honestly and his hold slackens on your cheeks to let you speak, “I hate you and I want you and—there’s no one but you—it’s only you and you’re awful but I am, too, and I need—” 
It cracks out of you, voice raw, a half-sob. 
Your tears make him smile. 
He hushes you gently, “oh, sweet girl,” he soothes, and his other hand slowly returns to its place on your trembling, lower stomach, “you’re so torn up about this. How much grief have you given yourself? Hm? Just for wanting?” 
You heave, unable to respond, suddenly reaching with your free hand for him, pulling on his shirt, closer to you. 
He gives in and goes, lets you claw at his back and bury your face in his shoulder. He finally lets go of your face, in favor of letting you fall to pieces beneath him. His knee dips on the mattress. But he holds himself above you still.
“I’ll guide you now,” he murmurs and his voice is by your ear. He turns his nose to nudge against your temple, inhaling slowly. 
You can feel the rumble of a groan through him that he holds back, a soft growl. 
And then, “look at me.” 
You sniffle and with a great deal of reluctance, you pull your face away from the safety of his shoulder to find his gaze. Midnight violet. Depthless. 
“Hate me all you want,” he says, “but I adore you—no matter how you are. Willing and pliant, or vicious and biting. I’ll always adore you. And I’ll always do what’s best for you.” 
Something inside of you cleaves open. Fractures in a way that is irreparable. 
You want to say something but you don’t know what, you have something so tremendous and terrifying inside of you, because of him—all you can get out is a soft cry. 
“Now,” he continues, eyes flickering over your body, and his thumb gently strokes over your lower stomach. “You feel empty, don’t you?” 
A whimper eeks out of you. You nod slowly. Empty and torn apart and open and aching. 
“Use three fingers, not two.” He commands gently, “you want something bigger, hm? I’m sure it hurts so badly—you’re so wet.” 
Without thinking, you obey him. 
You press three fingers carefully inside of you and it’s the first stretch you’ve gotten, the first spark of relief. 
You cry out, clinging to him. 
“That’s it,” he encourages, “in and out for me.” 
You tilt your hips up into his hand, towards your fingers, and he doesn’t scold you. The pressure on your lower stomach makes pleasure bloom and strengthen there. For a moment, it’s just the soft, slick noises of yourself, and it’s so—
Embarrassing. So horrible. 
You must look out of your depth, you must look lost or terrified, because he finally speaks again, “curl your fingers for me, darling.” 
You do just that and moan the moment you press deeper inside yourself. 
“Good girl,” he praises, “does that feel better? Answer me.” 
“Yes—yeah.” You get out, crooking your fingers inside yourself. “I still want—” 
“More?” He murmurs, pressing his hand gently against your lower stomach, “this time, you have to make do with just this.” 
You bite back your whine or complaint, head hazy—fingers moving desperately. But you don’t complain, you don’t fuss. 
He smiles when he realizes how you’ve caught yourself, “oh, look at that,” he purrs, “you can be tamed after all.” 
And before you can ruin it for yourself, Suguru sweeps his thumb just barely over your mound again, and says, “rock your hips now, gentle.” 
The moment you do, the friction against your palm makes you moan, head falling back, baring your throat. 
Perhaps without thinking, he dips forward, nose tracing over the cure of your neck, following instinct. You make another soft noise, and in your haze, wish desperately that he would just bite down—
All you get is the brief skim of his warm, soft lips. No teeth and you miss them, achingly. 
He presses his hand down just a little more and—
Pleasure bursts beneath your skin with enough force that your back bows off the bed, mouth parted. 
You sob. 
You feel your walls flutter uselessly around your fingers, feel your body desperate for something you can’t have this time, and fall apart.
Suguru is there to catch you. 
He coos to you, soft and easy, and even kisses at your damp, tear-struck cheeks. He lets you arch and twist and chase your pleasure, lets you be wanton and shameless and desperate. He lets you claw him and bite him and cry into his shoulder. 
And when you begin to quiet, he suddenly hitches your legs around his waist and lifts you clear from the bed. You lope your arms weakly around his neck and bury your face into his throat. 
You don’t protest or fight him, you are grateful and eager for all the places you touch, feeling incredibly fragile in his broad arms.  
You don’t bother to look where he’s taking you—can’t find it in yourself to care, if you can feel him against your center, feel where he’s hard and aching himself, even with the suppressants—
But between one breath and the next, you’re in the bathtub again, and the water from the shower blasts on from above. 
Ice cold water pours on you. 
You shriek and Suguru has the nerve to laugh, which makes you lunge for him, yanking him towards the spray of water. 
It soaks his shirt, his hair, as he holds himself over you, before stepping carefully into the tub to join you. 
He sits with you, beneath the cold water, and pushes his hair out of his face as you clamber into his lap. 
You pull at his wet shirt and he lets you take it off of him, throw it over the side of the tub in a heap. 
He reaches to do the same to you, ridding you of the only article of clothing you’d had on. 
You grit your teeth, “does it have to be so cold?” You ask, feeling the spray now rain against your back, your shoulders. You lean away from it, into his arms. 
“You needed this.” He says fondly. And then, as he strokes your wet hair, “I did, too.” 
“You’re an awful man,” you curse him, shivering.
“I know,” he agrees with a soft, fond smile. 
You look at him, hair inky and dark, lashes damp against his cheek, and the pleased way he smiles. Like an insufferable, giant cat. You’re aching and furious and freezing and so—so tender. 
“I hate you,” you tell him but it sounds more like a confession, soft around the edges. 
He kisses your temple, lingers there, and you can feel the curve of his smile. You can hear it color his voice;
“I know.” 
***
Something shifts between the two of you after that. And the following day, your Heat finally begins to wane slightly. 
You try to touch yourself again and Suguru forbids it this time. You fight and snarl with him, but you let him hold you and lull you to sleep. You let him feed you. And bathe you. You sleep bare against his naked chest and are soothed by it the way a fussy baby is calmed by the bare skin of their mother. 
You feel infinitely closer to him. 
You lounge with him in bed, in his living room, hanging off him all that you can. 
He indulges this behavior, encourages it, even. 
And on the eighth day, your Heat finally breaks. 
When you wake, still curled on his chest, with his hands stroking tenderly over your bare back, he asks, “how do you feel?” 
“Sane, I think.” You murmur it into his chest. 
“Your Heat broke in the night.” He says and touches your head, your forehead, like he’s taking your temperature. “You’re still a little warmer, but it’s over now, I think.” 
Slowly, you pick yourself up to look at him. To hover over him. 
He looks up at you, too, uncertain. Waiting. You’re sure he’s waiting to see if you’ll return to your usual self, if you’ll snap or snarl or chew him out—will you storm out? Or seethe? Will you fight him still, after everything, even as he holds you in his arms now? 
“Thank you for respecting my wishes,” you say instead and lean down to suddenly press your lips to his. 
You feel his surprise, the way his lips part, the way he freezes and you sink down into it. For a moment, you worry he won’t reciprocate again. 
But then, his hand comes up to cradle your face, and he nudges into the kiss. Hungry. Deep. 
You give into him, you encourage him, coaxing him with soft tongue and eager mouth. 
When you pull away, you grab his face this time, the way he always grabs yours, squeezing his lips into a little pout, “but if you ever make me suffer like that again through a Heat,” your nails dig into his cheek, “I’ll fucking kill you.” 
He laughs, canines flashing, and surges forward to kiss you again. Harder. Meaner. 
It’s all teeth and heat, a little vicious, the way you are. He wrestles you beneath him, kisses you into the mattress. And when he pulls away, he says;
“If you ever make me suffer like that again, you’ll wish you’d killed me first.” 
You feel your own smile against his neck, against one of the ridges of your own bite mark, and with all the satisfaction in the world, you sink your teeth down into it again. 
It’s like a key coming up against a lock, fitting snugly to their own indents, and finding their own, well-worn place. 
It’s like finally coming home. 
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promptful · 2 years
Text
Oddly obscure Friends-to-Lovers prompts that I'll probably add to.
I'm uh, sorry? Requests are open, and please do not add to this list. I'm sure I have more somewhere in my brain, lol.
WARNINGS: Mention of drowning, mention of death, possible cursing. Alcohol.
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SCENARIOS
1) We’re having a movie night, just like we’ve always done. Your thigh is touching mine, and my thoughts won’t stop wandering.
2) We both just got off work, and I’m walking you home just like any other night, you trip on an unfortunate pebble. Just before you hit the ground, I caught you with one arm around your waist.
3) Throughout our childhood, it was always you getting sick, never me. You nearly passed out next to me with fevers higher than imaginable, but I was fine. Now, I’m bedridden and you won’t stop freaking out.
4) This is your favorite song, and apparently there’s an option to sing a duet. Oh… you want me to sing? It’s a love song? We’ll be right next to each other? Oh. Okay. 
5) You’re drunk, bent over a bar with a grin splayed on your lips. You’re clinging to me, and won’t let me fish your keys out of your pocket/bag, guess we’re taking my car.
6) I step outside to find a thank you note for helping you/picking you up/getting groceries for you, stuck to a plate of baked pie/cookies/cake. Oh my god, how can I make you bake more? …Why are your cheeks red? 
7) My roommate/ex/family kicked me out into the rain. I have nobody else to call but you.  
8) Your roommate/ex/family kicked you out, and it’s pouring outside. In my pajamas/loungewear, yet I ran to my car to pick you up. 
9) This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done, I tell you, but I don't have the heart to remove your fingers from my wrist. 
10) You’ve always been a stoic nightmare who never smiles, laughs, or does anything remotely animated. But one night, you actually laughed and I think I felt my heart skip a beat.
11) There’s one bed, and I know we’ve shared beds for years, but your arm is around my hips, my back is against your chest, and your breath keeps brushing my neck.
12) I’m trying to hold you, and I can feel every little thing about you. Why did I agree to sleeping here with you again? 
13) Ohmygod, I know I just said I love you, and I truly did mean it, but then your eyes flicker with something I’ve never seen, and maybe I don’t feel so bad anymore?
14) We’re arguing because of something stupid, and every single time I think it’s finally over, you scream, “But why do you care?!” And I respond with the only thing I can think of, “Because I love you!” @screnwriter lmao. 
15) Saying I love you after I just nearly drowned shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but I can’t seem to stop staring at your lips. Whoops?
16) We’ve been friends since childhood, and I’ve accepted that we’re just not meant to be. I’ve moved on and encouraged you to follow your dreams. I didn’t know that your dream was me. 
17) You and I’ve been friends since we were kids, and suddenly when I’m about to leave for vacation/college/moving, you let out that you can’t let me go without saying I love you.
18) All week, you’ve been on my mind, and I can’t make you go away. Finally, after suffering in silence for so long at the thought of your lips, your laugh, and your smile, I give in and ask you to come to my apartment.
19) What the hell are we doing in this closet? Why did you drag me in here? Why are you so close? Why do I want you to be closer? 
20) “This is bad,” I whisper, with my hands wrapped around your hips, because I know that if you give in, I’m wrapped around your finger. “Maybe,” you whisper, leaning closer, “maybe this is a good kind of bad, hm?” and pull me into a kiss. 
21) You need help tying the back of your dress/fixing your cufflinks, and my fingers keep scraping against your skin. How are you so warm? And how are you acting like I’m not right behind/in front of you? 
22) We’re ice skating, just like we used to when we were kids, but then you slip. I break your fall by offering myself up for tribute, and suddenly, we’re a whole lot closer.
23) You offer to make me tea when I’m sick, and for some reason, I have the urge to kiss you. Deliriously, I ask if I can. We came to an agreement that I can kiss you after I stop sneezing. 
24) I know you love rollercoasters, but I get so sick while riding them, and I’m not sure if I can stomach another one–oh, you’re holding my hand?
25) Every Sunday morning before work/church/school/a hobby, you come in for coffee. We chat a little bit each time, and I feel like we’re some sort of friends now. Today, I finally gained the courage to write my number on your cup. 
26) Family vacations are a whole lot more awkward when you and I can’t stop staring at each other, and you know that they’re going to catch on if we don’t stop, right? But we don’t, and instead, it just gets worse. 
27) You’re in a swimsuit. I don't know what to do but stand here and look awkward, because that’s more skin than I thought I’d ever see on you.
28) We’re roommates, and I walk in on you changing. You yelp. I yelp. I never forget what I saw, I’m sure you never forget what I walked in on. I think it’s time we have a chat about this. 
29) Did you know that if you love someone enough, your heart can palpitate? I didn’t, well, not until you walked into the room.
30) It’s your birthday and everyone forgot. Everyone except me. We sit down at a nearby park/in your apartment/on the roof/in a tree, and I finally give you my present.
31) You just got rejected from a date/prom night, and I promise you, your crush is missing out on you. I don’t know how to convince you other than sit here, hold you, and pretend that I don’t wish you’d see what’s in front of you.
32) I never wanted to ruin what we had, but you’re making it so hard not to utter those three words.  
33) I know you’re angry that I got hurt, but you’re patching up a cut on my face/chest, and you’re really close.
34) I invited you over after a rough night, the stench of cheap beer on both of our breaths. For some reason I can’t get my mind off of the way you laugh, or how you threw everything aside to come comfort me.
35) I’m trying to work up the courage to tell you how I feel, but everyone and everything seems to be against us doing this. Your friends, my friends, a random phone call from a telemarketer that I nearly cussed out. Okay, look, I love you.
36) Work has me exhausted, and I don’t want to think anymore, and I just can’t hold back from mumbling I love you into your hair. Uh, sorry.
37) We always snuggle, and this shouldn’t be any different, but I’m trying not to press my lips to yours because they’re right there and I don’t want to pass up another chance, but you take initiative and do it yourself. Oh. 
38) Your SO doesn’t treat you right, and you know it, and I know it, and everyone else knows it. But I don’t know how to convince you without giving myself away. And of course when I try, it fails. Crap. 
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wonysugar · 11 months
Text
show them | lee chaeyoung
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synopsis: your camgirl best friend invites you to feature in one of her shows<3
pairing: camgirl!isa x fem!reader
genres: just pure smut tbh nothing else going on LOL
warnings: degradation, heavy humiliation, voyeurism/exhibitionism, objectification, kind of dumbification
word count: 1069
a/n: so i was working on my sana fic, but i had this thought stuck in my head and it wasn’t letting me concentrate so i wrote this instead. here are some crumbs to feast off of while i finish the rest!!
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“thank you so much for the donation seraphinee!” thanked your best friend, isa, as she was pumping her fingers in and out of you with no mercy whatsoever whilst reading the comments and checking the tips. it’s been about 40 minutes and you still couldn’t fully believe you were here doing this, getting used in front of a camera, with a whole audience watching. and you were even more shocked that you enjoyed every bit of it.
first, her casually confessing that she did this for a living, and then straight up inviting you to one her lives? it all felt like a fever dream, but here you were.
“do you see this, baby? people are liking it, alot. maybe i should invite you over more often.” she said in a playful tone, still working her fingers inside of your walls, making you clench around her as you moaned out her name repeatedly. “don’t you think so, y/n?” she added as she increased the speed of her movements, making you a whining mess. words couldn’t come out of you, you weren’t bothered enough to make them come out.
“answer me, you slut.” she harshly pulled on your hair, making your head throw back as her fingering grew rougher by the second, making it even harder for you to form a complete and correct sentence.
“y-yes isa, i - fuck - i think so t-too.” you said, eyes rolling at the back of your head at her calling you ‘such a good girl’ for her. being so vulnerable like this for hundreds of people to see and get off to, getting used like this by your own best friend, all of it, turned you on so much. then, as you were getting closer to your climax, her rough movements suddenly stopped.
“awe, you didn’t get to cum, did you, baby?” she mocked, you whined out of impatience, bucking your hips for any type of friction, mumbling and muttering little ‘please’s as she chuckled. it was honestly pathetic.
“sooo needy. and you’re letting everybody see you like this, too. everyone can see how much of a fucking whore you really are, and you’re just letting it happen hm? you like being used by your best friend while a bunch of nobodies jerk off to it, don’t you, you dumb fucking bitch?” she giggled as your chest heaved up and down, desperately trying to find enough oxygen. then, she pulled out her fingers, which earned a slow whimper from you, proceeded to lick them thoroughly and turned to the chat.
“my loves, what do you think we should use on this poor, naughty little thing? she clearly would cum to basically anything at this point, i mean, have you seen her?” she mockingly said, spreading apart your pussy lips with two fingers so everybody saw how dripping wet you were, it was so embarrassing, but you loved it so much. “so, let your imagination run wildd.”
lots of objects were coming up, some of them absolutely ridiculous, but most people were suggesting something pretty average, like a vibrator or a dildo. isa, at that moment, was feeling cheeky, so she chuckled to herself and grabbed a vibrator from her drawer.
she motioned for you to get on your back, cunt diagonally facing the webcam, she set the toy on the highest level, not even bothering to look at the donations anymore. she was focused on you now, and only you.
“now, i’m gonna use this on you. you are not allowed to cum until i say you can, okay darling?” her eyes and voice lustful, like her only intention was to ruin every part of you, it sent chills down your spine. you nodded.
“words.” she added, you shivered. “y-yes ma’am.” is what weakly came out of your mouth, and in response, she laughed in your face.
“ma’am? god, you really are a whore. you’re like a stupid bitch in heat. you probably can’t even think right, poor thing.” she said, still laughing at you. soon enough, she pressed the vibrator against your clit, making you gasp at the sudden sensation. you swore you could’ve just came right then and there. but you couldn’t, you had to hold it in. for isa.
what felt like an hour passed and she pressed it harder, sometimes to the point that it hurt you, but she didn’t give a fuck about that. in fact, she wanted you to be in pain. she knew how much you wanted to cum, but she also knew the amount of effort you were putting in not to.
“pleaseeepleasepleaseplease isa let me cumm please i’ve been so g-good.” you begged, letting go of every last bit of dignity you had left, which already wasn’t a lot. but, you couldn’t help it, you felt like you were gonna explode.
“hmmm… do you guys think we should let her?” she asked the audience, gently massaging your folds as she continued abusing your core with the toy, making it almost numb. fuck, it hurt.
she looked at the chat with an innocent smile plastered on her face, waiting for responses. when she saw them appear, she was a bit disappointed on seeing that most of them were a bunch of approvals on letting you cum, but she also did agree that you’ve went through enough for that day.
she looked at your shaking body with amusement, because that’s all you were at that moment. a fucktoy, something to entertain her. “you wanna cum, love?” she asked, acting as if it wasn’t obvious enough. you nod eagerly. you quietly begged her to let you finish, breathy moans escaping your mouth also. then, she put the vibrator away and… replaced it with her mouth?? “then cum on my tongue.” she ordered.
the feeling of her mouth on you felt incredible, especially after having nothing but a vibration on your clit for 10 whole minutes. you honestly felt pathetic, because a singular swipe of the tongue is what brought you to your peak. you closed your eyes as the orgasm you’ve been waiting so long for hits you like a truck. you let out a long and loud moan, calling out to her in any way you could think of. that’s the thing, you weren’t able to think, it all just felt sososososo good.
“that’s right, show them how good i made you feel, y/n.”
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imagine-lcorp · 5 months
Text
Cure For Me (One Shot)
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Request
Could you do an imagine where the reader is sick and Lena takes care of her? Like the reader feels bad about needing help but Lena reassures her that that’s what she’s there for? Just fluffy lol. Thank you!!!!
A/N: Hi, guys!! Here comes another request, as always thank you for your patience and for hanging (so long) here with me. This one was particularly fun, I tend to get sick a lot so this one was actually pretty nice too. Anyways, enjoooy and let me know what you think :)
Lena Luthor x Fem!R//Word Count: 2,105
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Loud knocks on your door woke you up from your fever dream.
You opened your eyes, grunting as you felt your body ache, and turned to look at the digital clock on the nightstand next to your bed. By squinting your eyes you managed to make it was a bit pass midday and wondered who was at your door at such unfortunate time. You had been feeling sick since last night. It was probably something you ate, although you couldn't remember eating anything bad or spoiled. Your stomach was hurting, accompanied with nausea and a fever that didn't go away despite the couple of pills you had downed before going to bed, hoping they would make you feel better the next day. You lifted your covers with heavy arms and tried to sit on your bed, doing it as slowly as possible as you realized you were feeling the same.
You heard the knocking again and sighed as you left the bed to answer the door. However, the face that greeted you at the door was one you didn't expect.
"Hi!" Lena smiled widely as you swung the door open but soon her expression changed to one of worry as she noticed you were paler than milk. "(Y/N)?"
"Hey." You managed to say with a short breath and a little smile as her hands raised to cup your face. "What are y-"
"Oh my god, you're burning." She put the palm of her hand on your forehead and looked at you with a frown. "Have you been like this the whole morning?"
"Uh…" You let her take your hand to drag you inside your own apartment and frowned a bit in confusion after the door closed behind you. "Lena, what are you doing here?"
"Well, after you texted us yesterday you were feeling a bit sick, I wanted to check upon you." She took you by the shoulders and sat you carefully on the couch.
She had been worried all morning, trying to text you. If Lena knew something about you was that you would rather be all though about it than ask for help until it got worse. So, when you didn't answer, she started to fear you would retreat to your apartment, as you usually did, until all your discomforts magically passed.
You sat with a little thud, letting your body fall on it with all your weight and groaned. You complained a bit as she put two fingers on your wrist to check your pulse and looked at you intently from eye to eye.
"Have you eaten?"
"No." You observed as she did her own check up. "I don't have the stomach right now."
"Since when haven't you eaten?"
"Lena, what are you doing?" You took her hands in yours and sighed. "I'm sure it's just a stomachache. You don't have to worry. It will pass."
The look Lena gave you next made you reconsider your whole life. You had never felt as scowled as you felt right there, with Lena looking you with severe eyes, her tilted head and a raised eyebrow.
"(Y/N), you're looking like the dead. You have a fever, haven't eating since God knows when, you look in pain. So, I'm calling you a doctor right now."
You shut your mouth after that. No amount of complaining was going to make Lena change her opinion and you knew her too well to even try it. However, you felt bad about it and tried it anyways. She didn't have to waste the day with you while feeling like that.
"Lena, you really don't have to." You said as she took her phone out of her purse. "I took a few pills yesterday, and I'll stay te rest of the day in bed. I'll be fine."
"Tell me that once you get some color back, darling." She smiled softly at you and talked to the phone once the call connected. "Alright, thank you, yes, I'll send you the address."
You shivered a bit, having spent so much time out of the cover of your bed was making you feel cold.
"The doctor will be here in twenty minutes." She said as she noticed the subtle tremble of your body. "C'mon, I'll take you to bed."
She put her phone on the back pocket of her jeans and took your hands in hers once again.
"Oh, to hear those words in another circumstances…" You sighed heavily with a little smile as she pulled you up and let you lean against her for support.
She chuckled. "Try to get better and then we'll talk about it."
You reached your bedroom and walked you to the edge of the bed, making sure you didn't fall. You looked weak and by the little grimaces your face was making she knew you felt more pain than you had initially let her see. She pushed you down slowly, arranging your pillows below your head and throwing the bed sheets above you. You shivered with the slight breeze fo them and closed your eyes.
"Stay here and don't move too much." Lena caressed your forehead with her fingertips and moved from the edge of your bed. In a movement that was quicker than you thought you were capable of, you grabbed her wrist. She was about to turn when she came to a halt as she felt your grip on her and turned to look at you.
"Thank you." You said in a low voice and a smile on your lips.
She returned the smile and placed a quick kiss on your forehead. You let go of her after that and shifted to a more comfortable position on your bed as you watched her leave your room.
The was a warm felling in your chest, despite the cold in your body. Against your first complaints about it, you were grateful Lena had decided to come see you. You couldn't imagine having to spend the whole day alone with the pain and although you had thought about seeing a doctor later in the evening, you didn't think you had the strength to get out of your house. In all honestly, you would have been glad to roll in to a ball and sleep, at least for the day. But Lena, sweet, caring Lena, wasn't going to have any of that.
Minutes later she came into your room once again, carrying a cup of tea in one hand and a bowl with ice and water on the other. You noticed the piece of cloth that hanged from her arm as she left the containers on your nightstand. She took the cloth from her arm, dipped it in the cold water and folded it to put it on your forehead. You shook your head a bit at the contact.
"Sorry, too cold?" She sat on the bed, on the empty space next to you.
"A bit." You hummed with your eyes closed.
"Hang on, it's just while the doctor comes." She pressed the palm of her hand on the cloth and then frowned with worry. "I think it might be an infection."
"Just because you have two PhD's doesn't mean you're an actual doctor, miss Luthor." You joked and smiled a little.
"Lucky for you, otherwise I'd have called an ambulance and sent you to the ICU already." You chuckled but regretted it immediately after feeling pain in your abdomen due to the spasms of your laughter. You could heard her smile when she replied. "You had it coming."
The doctor came and did a whole check up on you. She asked about your eating habits, what you had eating the day before, the pills you had taken to help with the fever and the pain, asked you to sit at the edge of the bed, to open your mouth wide and took your temperature. The doctor did the whole routine and at the end of it gave the reason to Lena.
"Well, it's definitely an infection." The doctor said as she scribbled on her prescription block. "I'm giving you something for the pain and the fever. Try to say hydrated as much as you can, stay away from anything too irritating for your stomach and try to eat food that's easy to digest. I'll write some of what you can and cannot eat."
The doctor smiled at you as she tore the sheet from her block moments later and gave it to Lena.
"Make sure she follows it to the letter and she will be as good as new."
Lena read the note and asked some follow up questions as she escorted the doctor to your door. You waited for Lena as you massaged your forehead with a hand. You hated being sick.
"I'll go buy these later." Lena entered your room moments later and waved your prescription in her hand. "Seems you will have to be on a diet in the meantime."
You grunted at the thought. "I've to see if there's still anything edible for me in the fridge."
"I'll take care of that too." She left the prescription on your nightstand and put her hands on your shoulders to help you lay back again on the bed. "Don't worry."
"Lena, I can't let you do all that." You raised your hands to her arms, stopping her from pushing you to the bed, and looked at her with sheepish eyes. "You have already done so much. Coming here, calling me a doctor… I'll figure out the rest once I feel better."
"(Y/N), I'm taking care of you." She raised her hands to cup your face and caressed your cheeks with her thumbs. There was so much love and care on her eyes that you almost melted. "Just let me do it, okay?"
"Okay." You nodded without further complaint.
"Good, now go back to bed." She ordered, and you leaned back on the bed with a little groan as she pulled the covers over you. "I'll go get your meds and some food. Don't move."
"Stay with me until I fall asleep?" You pleaded, feeling the sudden impulse of having her with you a little longer.
"I need to get your meds first." She placed the palm of her hand on your forehead. The fever had gone down a bit but not enough for her liking.
"Please?" You lifted your hand to take hers in yours and placed them over your chest. "Or I might just start jumping on the bed."
She rolled her eyes playfully at you and lifted one knee to join you in the bed. "Just until you fall asleep."
"Yes, ma'am." You smiled and moved slowly to the side, making space for her.
She laid then next to you, being careful not to push or crush you with her own body weight. It took you a couple of moments to settle into a comfortable position, where you had an arm below Lena and she rested her head on your shoulder, with a hand gently placed above your stomach. She moved the palm of her hand in circles, stroking with care your abdomen from above the covers.
The soothing movement, her embrace, the warmth of her body against you felt like a cure to all your aches and troubles. You couldn't imagine anyone else do what she was doing for you. Hell, you couldn't even imagine having to share those moments with anyone that wasn't her, and because of that you were grateful she was by your side.
"I know I already said it but, thank you." You moved your head a bit down to look at her. "I really don't know what I would do without you."
"Curl into a ball and sleep for a month?" Lena mused.
"Oh, I wish." You smiled at her. "But no, this is way better."
"How is this better?" She chuckled.
"'Cause I have you here." You sighed contented and fatigue seemed to finally settle in your bones as you snuggled down, shifting on the bed to rest your chin on her head. "You make everything better."
"You too make everything better, (Y/N)." She whispered as she knew you were asleep right away.
She smiled as a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, where Lena could hear the soft rhythm of your breathing and be comforted by the slow movement of your chest as it went up and down in the same cadence. She let herself drift into the same slumber.
She would have the rest of the day to buy you groceries and your meds, but for now she let herself too enjoy this moment by your side. After all, that's what she was there for.
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@rosekillermicrofic 2nd May: Dread (it's like 03:15 in the morning and I probably have a fever lol)
Cw: mention of homophobia
Exposed
Word count: 798
Shit, shit, shit.
Barty frantically rummaged through his backpack. It wasn't there. His journal. Not a diary, mind you, that was for lovesick teenage girls.
Although Barty couldn't even be sure if he wasn't a lovesick teenage girl anymore.
Ever since he realised his feelings for his best friend two weeks ago, it's been eating him alive. Every waking thought, every dream, was filled with him. His Evan, his Rosie. And Barty began analysing every interaction with Evan. To be honest, he wasn't even trying to figure out if Evan likes him or not, he was sure Evan didn't. He was analysing his own behaviour to be sure he wasn't too obvious.
That's why he got the journal, too. Because his head felt like it was going to burst with all the running thoughts.
And now it wasn't there.
Who could've taken it? Or did Barty forget it somewhere?
He tried to summon it, but no such luck.
He sighed. He better get to lunch before Evan and Regulus get suspicious. Maybe he can look for the journal afterwards.
He managed to eat lunch without Evan noticing something was wrong with him. Regulus had some errands to run, so he wasn't at lunch.
But then he saw them - Mulciber and Snape. They had his journal. And they were looking this way.
No. Please.
He was immediately filled with overwhelming dread. And shame, too.
These two read about his deepest secret, and there was no chance they'd keep it to themselves.
Just what were they planning to do? Expose him, that's for sure. But how? When? Will they humiliate him in front of the whole school, or just Evan?
Well, it didn't matter much. If Evan found out… Barty wasn't sure what he'd do.
Shit. They were heading here.
What should he do? Ignore them?
"Hey, Crouch!" Snape yelled, an evil smirk plastered on his face.
"Lost something?" Mulciber laughed, waving the journal.
"Give it back," Barty pleaded quietly.
Of course, they didn't. Mulciber barked out a laugh and held the journal in the air, just high enough so Barty couldn't reach it.
"I didn't think you'd be bent, Crouch. You surprise me," Mulciber sneered, "is it the daddy issues?"
"Wait, Barty's gay?" Evan asked, surprised.
"Bisexual," Barty muttered. "Doesn't matter. Give it back."
Mulciber just laughed.
"Hey, he's right. Give him the journal back," Evan said firmly, stepping forward to reach for the journal.
Mulciber just smirked and lifted the book higher, out of Evan's reach.
"Wanna know who he's gay for, Rosier?" Snape laughed.
Something like hurt flashed in Evan's eyes, before he schooled his features into a practiced pokerface.
"I believe Barty will tell me about his crush when he's ready," he replied icily.
"Aww, you're not even the smallest bit interested?" Mulciber mocked. "That must've hurt, didn't it, Crouch?"
"Shut up," was all Barty could say. His breathing quickened, and he was sure everyone could hear the beating of his heart.
"It must've hurt, to know your little crush doesn't even care it's him, right?" Snape laughed. "Here, take it," he handed Barty the journal with a condescending smirk. "I don't think I could read one more disgustingly sweet line of your hopeless pining over poor Rosier over here."
Barty swallowed his tears, grabbed the journal, and bolted out of the Great Hall. He didn't dare to check Evan's reaction. He was sure it'd break his heart.
The astronomy tower.
He ran upstairs, and then sat down, pressed against the cold wall. It was a bit grounding.
Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and his breathing was quick, ragged. He was clutching the journal tightly to his chest.
He heard quick footsteps. Evan appeared at the top of the staircase.
"B? Thank Merlin I found you," Evan sighed, out of breath. "I was worried you'd do something stupid."
"Just leave me alone, Ev," Barty sobbed out. "You don't have to rub it in."
"So it's true, then?" Evan ignored his request. "You really like me?"
"Yeah. Sorry." Barty replied and hid his face in his knees. "Now go away, will you? I'm already humiliated as it is. I'm sorry for making it weird between us, and for making you uncomfortable. We don't have to be friends anymore. But please, don't tease me about it even more," he choked out.
"Oh for the love of- come here," Evan sighed, exasperated. He sat across from Barty and pulled him into a hug.
"I like you too, alright? Honestly, I can't believe you didn't figure it out earlier, I'm not exactly the most subtle person."
Barty looked up at him, searching for a trace of joke in Evan's face. There was none.
He smiled slowly.
"Can I kiss you?" He whispered.
"Of course," Evan smiled, and leaned in.
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regulus-books · 3 months
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410 words - busy - @jegulus-microfic
warnings: arguing, bipolar james (although it's not directly mentioned, i wanted to add this tag because that's kinda what I was aiming for, and if you want a little more info on this specific episode of his I will definitely make a second post about it because I also have gone through similar things (lol another author using their mental illness in a fic/oneshot), and I hope you enjoy<3)
James has been busy a lot lately. A lot.
James has always been a hard worker, Regulus knows that. It just feels... purposeful this time. Maybe he's overreacting, but James gets up, works, eats (in silence), and goes back to sleep. He hangs out with Sirius on the weekends. Cycle repeats itself.
Regulus is standing outside the door of James' office.
"Jamie?" Regulus' heart squeezes painfully with worry about what James' answer will be. Silence emits in the hall. Regulus knocks again. "Amour?"
The door swings open fast, knocking Regulus back a bit. "What?" James' tone is harsh, and bitter. Regulus' face contorts and his eyes water.
"Well, um," Everything he says seems more stupid. He picks the skin around his nails. He looks at the ground. "I was just..." He doesn't know what to say next.
"Well, spit it out." James bites back, and Regulus is almost dumbfounded.
"What do you want for dinner?" Regulus selects a question from his list:
•Are you okay?
•When will you come out of that room?
•Can we just talk?
•What do you want for dinner?
•What did I do wrong?
"I don't fucking know, Regulus, figure it out yourself." James spits his name like it's a slur.
He doesn't even know what he feels. Pain, anger?
"I can't take this shit," Regulus says, shaking his head as tears fall down his face and his bags get packed. He looks at James' face.
James. The man he loves is staring at him in the doorway of their bedroom while he is packing a bag. It almost feels like a fever dream. James is leaning against the frame of their door, one hand in the pocket of his work trousers, he looks almost nonchalant.
"Are you seriously just going to fucking watch me walk out?"
"If that's what you want." James leans his head on the frame now, just watching.
"You won't even fight?"
"No."
"You won't fight for me, James? For us?" James looks down at the ground, where the bag is, almost all the way packed before looking back into Regulus' teary eyes.
"No."
Regulus heart is being eaten by wild animals. He can feel them ripping away piece by piece, each one going slower, applying more pressure, biting further in.
"Did I do something?" This time, James doesn't answer at all. Instead, he looks away from Regulus, away from the suitcase, away from his bedroom and walks back into his office.
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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I may not be showing it 💯 but this cold is rotting my brain
#an actual sentence i said earlier: ‘i think coughing is making my cough worse. if i simply don’t cough; i won’t cough’#my mom And mabel (who is a dog) both looked at me like i’d grown an extra head#no but i was right. coughing literally Does make my cough worse because it makes my throat sore which makes me cough more but there’s#nothing TO cough. so then i’m just coughing#if i don’t cough i won’t need to cough. it’s that simple#i’m trying to soothe my throat with water and benylin and tea#also last night i went to bed at 8:30pm because i felt so absolutely miserably drowsy and i spent 12 hours having literally the worst dreams#ever. it was such a surreal and awful sleeping experience. one of the worst in my life#i was caught in a loop all night of waking up and falling asleep and waking up and falling asleep and waking up and falling asleep#but i only had the same two dreams the whole time. like i’d wake up and fall back asleep into the same bad dream#it was SO BAD. i literally couldn’t bring myself to have a single rational thought in the whole 12 hours#i felt high or drunk but the scary thing was i’d taken no drugs; not even pain relief. maybe i had a fever?#or maybe it was sleep deprivation idk. or maybe the pain in my legs drove me crazy#it was so bad that at one point i dreamed i was being tortured and i sold out everything to my torturers so they’d give me pain relief#but then they didn’t. i said they were bad dreams#anyway i’m going to wait until i’m actually tired before i go to bed tonight lol#if there’s one thing i’ve learned about trying to force myself to sleep at an unusual time it’s that it never goes well#i WILL end up delirious and potentially hallucinating at some point#also i’ve decided whenever i get sick from now on i’m just going to throw pain relief at it until i feel nothing. as god intended#personal
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kth1fics · 1 year
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00:00 (Zero O’Clock) (M) | KTH
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00:00 (Zero O’Clock)
⟶ Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: Established Relationship, PWP, Slice of Life, Domestic Fluff, Smut, 18+ ⟶ WC: 6.8k+ ⟶ Warnings: disgustingly fluffy fluff (for me lol), super sweet interactions and love, unprotected sex, neck kisses, brief fingering, language, etc ⟶ Beta: @daechwitatamic​ jumping jo jo bean ⟶ Summary: A night full of movies and intimate conversations with the love of your life and his fluffy dog whom you love more than anything leads into something more. ⟶ Author's Note: Yeah. My sweet, sweet, heart throbbing love for a man and his adorable Pomeranian. What else do you expect of me? I didn’t add too much detail toward Yeontan here, but let me have you know – I adore that dog to no end. ⟶ Song Recommendation: Closer (ft Paul Blanco, Mahalia) by RM
Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi 
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“I love you,” he whispers in a soft baritone. Darkness surrounds you besides the lighting from the flat screen television across the room. It runs credits after a movie, names and titles all gradually sliding up the screen to credit all the workers who assisted in the development of the film. “I really do love you,” he adds. 
It’s midnight on the dot; motionless comfort sits in the middle of the living room as both you and Taehyung lay tangled together on the couch. Never having a moment where you are not touching. Holding onto another like it’s your duty. As if it’s your job to make sure the other is there physically. Not caught up in a fever dream of happiness. Only the softest and kindest of touches are exchanged through the series of movies the two of you enjoyed throughout the night. Caressing one another's hands and limbs, gripping just enough to not let one slip from their grasps. If one of you attempts to pull away, the other is quick to pull them back.
You’re disgustingly in love and so is he. It’s just how it works. There’s nothing between the two of you that suits the stereotypical definition of the word ‘perfect’. Contrasting differences and different likes and dislikes can do that. Opposing personalities when it comes to opinions and personal preferences. Raised in separate environments. But without a doubt, pushing aside those things that don’t match one another and accepting one another’s flaws — now that is what makes your relationship with Taehyung perfect. Where it is so effortlessly easy to work along with another, to communicate and keep moving forward. How the two of you continue and fully engage yourselves in another to keep learning and continue to grow. With full blown adoration and a magnetic bond that is fueled with such loving intensity; you and Taehyung are completely perfect for each other.
“I love you more,” you begin to smile slowly. You hate how easy it gets to make you feel giddy and happy. How a simple confession just means so much for you to hear. Because you know Taehyung means exactly what he says and he will always say it to remind you. 
He has no hesitation with letting you know that you truly are the love of his life, and just as he pulls you in closer as if the two of you had any more space left between you, Taehyung grins wholeheartedly. His face turns toward you as he leans in, placing his cheek against your shoulder while his arm reaches around your front to secure your frame against his. 
The warmth of the blanket covering the two of you on the couch already holds heat to keep your bodies warm. But you feel even more comfort with the touch of Taehyung’s skin against yours as he casually tucks his hand under a portion of your hoodie (actually it’s his and you stole it for the night). He, too, wears one of his own; it helps keep the both of you sheltered from the chill of your house.
Your tired eyes glance over to a window that reaches views of the outside. Streetlights glow dim on the road as thick flurries fall down and stick to the ground. It’s beautiful and serene as the two of you watch in silence, favoring how a scenic sight like this is your favorite thing to witness — even in the comfort of your own home.
“I could just stay here all night,” he says in the same low tone. “I don’t want to let go.”
At that, you slide your own hands across his arm. Holding him to you and squeezing slightly to emphasize that you enjoy this as well.
“We don’t have to move,” you promise. “We can stay like this until we fall asleep.”
Taehyung turns his head even more to nuzzle his face into your neck. Pressing himself against your skin to enjoy the closeness of your bodies and the faint scent of your body wash that hardly lingers on your skin. He’s an absolute cuddle bug, giving you all of his vulnerability because he knows you would never abuse it.
The breath of his nose fans out and tickles your skin, raising goosebumps when he hums in content. His lips press delicately against you with no rush, just lazy and exactly how he knows you like it.
“I’m happy with that idea,” he lets out a short giggle.
You turn slightly and attempt to face Taehyung, opening up your body to direct all of your attention on him. He notices your movement and pulls away enough to let you shift. Immediately, you connect the palm of your hand to his cheek. Rubbing your thumb softly on his tanned skin that has the smallest amounts of stubble growing in from his chin and upper lip. Taehyung releases another satisfied hum as he closes his eyes, easing into your touch that does wonders to his heart. Your fingers skim the roots of his wavy black hair, combing toward the back of his head to collect a fistful. You don’t tug on them tightly, but you continue to groom his strands like a brush.
The back of the couch meets the side of your face as you lean into it, smiling warmly at the man who’s intertwined with you. Your legs lift to lay across his lap where one of his knees is bent to accommodate his position. The hand that he keeps around your body now tugs you, sliding you as close as possible so he can lean in.
“Kiss me once,” he requests. “Then kiss me twice,” he adds. “Then kiss me once more,” he quotes the lines from a favorite song. 
Taehyung leans in to connect your lips with his. Molding together as you’ve done over a hundred times before. They’re plush and plump, moistened from his constant tongue licking and teeth biting. But also they feel so soft and smooth. So light, so sweet. Kissing anyone you’re a little bit infatuated with is always wonderful. But kissing Taehyung is nothing short of extraordinary. He’s someone who wants you as much as you want him. Where even after years of intimate touches and tender loving it still feels sort of dreamy. 
And when your tongues meet on kiss number two, you taste him as if it is the first time. You feel yourself falling apart. Pieces of you shatter and fall around him in the safety of knowing he will be there to pick them back up. To hold and cherish as he takes you in each and every time. You’re so utterly ready to melt away in his embrace, you want to give your all to him. Where you lose yourself on the couch, the floor, in his hair and his heart. To feel him inside and out of you; all around you. 
Lock your souls together as one whole. An unbreakable entity.
Once kiss number three begins to happen, you murmur your confession of love again as your bottom lip quivers with emotion. You remind him that he is loved and how lucky you are to have found each other for a moment of the most unimaginable happiness you can know.
You would give up anything to feel like this for eternity.
“My love,” he smiles when speaking against your lips. “You mean the entire world to me.”
His heart swells with adoration and glee. There’s nothing more he wants than what’s happening right now. Loving his partner, his love. To make you feel protected, appreciated, and wanted — no, needed.
Taehyung’s hand runs to the back of your neck to draw you into him. Intoxicated on you. He places his lips on yours once again and this time he leans forward, hinting for you to fall back onto the cushions as he’s ready to follow you.
A soft growl resonates, not from you nor from Taehyung. As your head falls softly back onto the cushion, you bump into the fluffy butt of another love of your life — your shared child; the tan and black colored Pomerainian, Yeontan. He originally is Taehyung’s baby, he got him when he was a wee puppy. But a few years down the road you were introduced into the mix, and Yeontan — who was definitely skeptical of you at first — grew to love you more and more. Just like his father.
Now you call him yours. And some days, Yeontan likes you better. Usually on the days you sneak him more treats than he’s allotted. But we don’t dare tell Taehyung this.
“Oh!” You smile and twist your head toward the dog who now begins sniffing your face. “Sorry, baby!”
Taehyung’s large hand comes to pat the top of Yeontan’s head. He pets him with kindness. “I forget he was over here,” he says. “Forgive me,” he begs toward the dog who’s began licking his hand. “Tannie, I need you to move.” Taehyung softly and slowly slides his palm under the side of Yeontan. With full on reluctance and sass, the mere 8 pound dog huffs as he stands on all fours.
“Aw,” you sigh as you feel bad for the pooch who now is being evicted from the couch.
You hear the tap of Yeontan’s nails clink lightly against the tile flooring as he jumps down from the cushion. He quickly looks around in the mild darkness of the house to find his best exit strategy.
Preferably away from his father and adopted mother who are seconds away from fornicating on the spot he was just resting on. (Although he’s just a dog who probably does not know the full extent of what the two of you are about to do). As Yeontan descends down the pitch darkness of the hallway toward the bedroom, you frown for him. Feeling bad for the upset dog.
“It’s not like you to kick Tannie out of the room,” you comment with a pout.
“He’ll be fine,” Taehyung murmurs as he continues to lay on top of you. “Besides, I don’t want him seeing what we’re doing.”
“Protecting your son’s eyes from the vulnerability of two lovers?”
“Exactly.”
The playful nature of his tone is hidden by the breathy deep whisper and soft plush lips heating up the shell of your ear. It tickles and sparks bursts of small firebolts through your system.
“We wouldn’t want to set a bad example,” you chide back, smirking as you turn your head and allow Taehyung’s lips to skim against your cheek. You exhale a breath you didn’t notice you held, trying to find the will to close the small distance between your lips, but the tension growing between you and Taehyung fuels you. “Like how his father does nothing but tease.”
“I always fulfill,” Taehyung draws back slightly, a pout dressing his features. Like an arrow subtly striking an apple’s skin, you pricked a tiny hole into Taehyung’s ego. “You know I do,” he adds.
Your palm reaches up and cups his chin as you tap your fingers softly against his cheek, smiling to yourself. It takes everything in your body to resist kissing away the jutted out bottom lip on Taehyung’s frowning face.
“I know you do,” you reassure softly. It warms his heart hearing those sweet, kind words of affirmation. You swear you can feel the twitch of his lips against your palm, threatening to break his saddened facade and into a pile of putty.
“Then show me you know,” he bids through half-lidded eyes, tongue swiping ever-so-slightly across his lips.
Your eyelids flutter with a thrilling chill running through your body, excitement blasts through your core and heat rises in your cheeks.The soft linen blanket that covers the two of you hordes all your body heat, the rising temperature increasing over time.
Taehyung uses this opportunity to cradle the back of your head, positioning it gently where he wants you while his other hand slides up the length of your leg and coaxes you to hook around his hip. He closes the gap with a teasing smile, hungrily molding your mouths together as though he’s desperate to taste every drop of you. Taehyung inhales you, greedily, and immediately comes to suck at your bottom lip – hooking it between his teeth before letting it pop back.
A small satisfied sigh rests in your throat, your mouth chases his as he pulls away just enough to be out of reach. His fingers comb through the roots of your hair, nails raking softly across your scalp.
“Come back,” you whisper a plea to him. “Tae –”
“– I’m just admiring you.”
“But I want to keep kissing you,” you sulk. “You’re doing exactly what I just said you do.”
He giggles, a deep baritone hypnotic melody that rumbles inside his chest. “I know.”
Taehyung doesn’t want to drag out the night further, it is quite late. But he can’t help himself from stopping every now and then and basking in the amazement of you. Looking at you, taking you in. It’s his favorite pastime if you ask. But he’s genuine and so devoted toward you, that doing nothing but seeing you is enough to fuel the electric butterflies in his stomach and fill his heart to the rim. He truly adores you.
Those gentle chuckles diminish and quickly morph into muffled, shy moans as Taehyung reconnects your awaiting kiss. You waste no second by diving your tongue into his mouth. It takes even less for him to counter your intrusion with his own, losing yourselves in a rhythmic dance.
You feel the way his warm large palm runs up and down the outer meat of your thigh that’s around his frame. Your hips involuntarily roll toward him as the need of Taehyung grows stronger between your legs. He’s lucky you’re wearing shorts right now, he would be disappointed if he couldn’t feel the heat of your skin against him.
“Can we lose these?” He gestures as his fingers run up toward your waistband. You feel the coolness of his fingers touch your delicate skin, it’s not too cold to make you wince but you note that Taehyung needs to be warmed up too. 
You nod into the kiss, body moving along with Taehyung’s as his fingers hook around the band of your shorts and whatever underwear you have on and slowly, achingly, slide them down and off your legs. He’s sure to keep himself hovered enough with the blanket around his shoulders, caging you in from the chill of the outside air. His eyes roam your exposed lower half, nothing he hasn’t seen before. But he always knows how to appreciate a beautiful sight, drinking in the picture of the sheen of arousal coating your pussy.
“Your hoodie,” you comment as you lean back enough and shrug your arms through the holes of your own lengthy sleeves. With haste, you work the material over your head as Taehyung does the same but quicker. Revealing his bare torso – a soft stomach and smooth chest – and fanned out black hair to you.
Still hovering and even planting a single foot down to the ground, Taehyung grips the hem of the thin tee shirt still covering your body. “This too?” He asks curiously, fingers itching to pull the soft material up your front.
“It’s still cold,” you deny with a sorry look.
Though Taehyung doesn’t press further. He only wants to keep you comfortable and he accepts your tender denial.
He nods as the hoods of his eyelids shade with subtle gleam and haze. You blink, a deep exhale escapes your chest as you witness the tightening of Taehyung’s nipples as they harden. Every impulse in you screams to act on instinct and touch them, rub against them to tame their hardening. 
And so you do, softly, with the pads of your thumbs. Giggling to yourself when he winces only slightly at the contact and returns a toothy smile.
Taehyung takes revenge by sliding his hands under your thin shirt, fingers pinching the tender flesh of your waist to tickle you. He lowers himself down fast, refusing to allow you to bolt up from your position and scurry away from his grasp.
“I’ll keep you warm,” he promises with a hum. His mouth skims over your temple, pressing fluttering kisses down the side of your face as you turn away from him.
You feel the warmth of Taehyung’s skin against yours as his arms scoop around you. It’s ultimately comfortable being guarded in his embrace, feeling held and protected all in one. The press of Taehyung’s lower half sits right at the apex of your thighs as he rests against you. His erection is strongly evident and hidden just under the menace of his sweatpants.
He uses this opportunity to press into you to give you the reminder of what you’re currently missing out on, yet you will fully receive. Another teasing antic of his, and you love it entirely. It causes enough friction to rub your clit deliciously. It also refreshes your memory on how hard –  how damn thick Taehyung is down there.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer to you for a deeper kiss. A meaningful lust. One that feels that it could be your last, so you make it everlasting – as much as possible. Where your breaths are caught, trapped inside your lungs with nowhere to escape. How time can pause, even in such a heated intimate position, and feel completely exposed in an emotional kind of way. Your tongue pushes past his lips and teeth and he responds with an enthusiastic rut of his hips. Gaining himself a subtle moan from you that only his ears can pick up.
“Fuck, I love you so much,” you pant. Your legs spread wider on their own accord. You abandon all thoughts of trying to stretch out your time of canoodling and hint to Taehyung how willing and ready you are. Lightly massage the back of his neck as you kiss him again, you smile sweetly into the lips of the man you’ve given everything to. “Don’t stop,” you whisper.
A gasp leaves your mouth as Taehyung slides his fingers between the two of you, running his fingers directly along your folds. Your slick, the natural clear and sticky arousal, now coats his digits the more he fondles your lower lips. Giving him such an easy gliding area and access to your cunt. With all his love, he begins rubbing small, quick and diligent circles against your slippery clit – drawing yet another sighing moan from your mouth.
“Does this feel good or should I slow down?” he questions with mirth and a satisfied hum as he dips his head to the junction of your shoulder and neck. Slotting his face right against your soft flesh and teeth nipping at the first contact against a sweet spot he knows all too well. You hiss, shuttering at the love bite and eyes fluttering shut, tight, as you savor the miniature pinch of pain. “Y/n?”
“Why…” you exhale a mewl, fighting and failing from melting into the couch below you. “...do you even ask?”
A deep, throaty giggle vibrates within Taehyung’s chest. He presses down with the flat of his tongue, exploring that exposed column of your neck to pull more sounds of pleasure from your mouth. He matches the tempo with the rolls of his fingers, nudging your engorged clit around like a dialog stick on a controller.
Your cunt throbs excitedly, anticipating the moments Taehyung plunges his fingers into you. Another delightful moan escapes your throat with the build up of your shaky breaths and it only confirms to his ears that you are in fact enjoying every little bit of this attention.
Taehyung continues to massage his wet tongue into a sensitive spot of your neck before grabbing it between his teeth. He sucks on it with vigor, diligent on making sure he leaves an impression on your body as his fingers slither their way toward your entrance.
“Ah, Taehyung,” you moan with a croaky voice. Your chest rises and falls as heat smothers you under this blanket and the man slotted between your thighs. Carefully, you slide a portion of the material down Taehyung’s back, enough to let in a small spill of cool air as your nails lightly rake down his spine.
He moans at how sparks of fire run in the wake of your nails, a warm sensation drawn to the risen skin. His name rolling off your tongue like second nature also winds him up, thinking that your clit has been catered to far enough and now it’s time to deliver his next step.
His decision on sinking two fingers rather than one is honestly due to the amount of arousal already coating his fingers. You’ve given him plenty to work with, telling him without actually telling him how your body is unbelievably ready for him. Taehyung’s thumb rubs gently over your clit as both his index and middle fingers plunge deeper into your dripping cunt, curling up his fingers to force your walls to clutch and release on instinct.
Your gasp of relief tickles his fancy. You dig more prominently into his back with your fingernails now, blessing his skin with small crescent indents as your other hand knots itself in his hair. The sounds you begin to make, those sharp little groans you cannot hide from him, makes his cock twitch eagerly.
“Do you want me to eat you out?” he questions in the middle of his assault. His lips morph over the lobe of your ear as you hear his soft exhales releasing from his nose. 
Your cheeks blast with fire and the honest question nearly short-circuits your brain as you try to comprehend what he’s asking all the while you’re fully enjoying what is currently going on. When you fail to respond to Taehyung, and instead grip onto him tighter, he falters the speed of his fingers. Decaying his rapid speed growth with agonizingly slow and languid fingers thrusts until he stops fully. You don’t realize he’s halted until you notice the way your hips have been chasing his movement and pussy gripping onto his digits.
“No!” You bite your bottom lip to avoid letting the word come out as a scream. Instead, a whiny moan of desperation takes over as you’re pulling Taehyung flush against your body with need. “Please, don’t stop.”
“I can give you something better,” he insists on a different approach. Perhaps tonight isn’t the night you need his tongue down there, and he’s perfectly alright with that. His lips press into your cheek while his breath fans out of his mouth. “Let me,” he begins to reinsert his fingers, “sink my,” his knuckles graze past your opening and fingers bend slightly to a new angle, “dick into this pussy,” he growls as his two fingers begin to scissor you open like stretching the elastic of a balloon.
You whimper at the sound of Taehyung’s deep voice whispering into your ear. He’s surprised with how fast your hands move to his sweatpants. Reaching down, you palm his length eagerly, feeling the leaking tip of his cock already poking out of the waistband. Taehyung groans as you take him by surprise, squeezing over his girth and running your hand along his shaft. You want to shove your hand under his pants to feel the skin to skin contact, how warm, hard, and heavy he feels once you secure your fingers around him.
“I want to make you feel good, too,” you confess.
Taehyung offers a gentle kiss as his hand helps shimmy his pants down his thighs and past his knees. He kicks them off quickly before leaning his chest against you again, gripping your wrist and pulling it away from him. He pins your arm against you prior to letting it go in favor of sliding his palm up to interlock his fingers with yours. Below, you can feel his swollen cock nudging against your inner thigh at an odd angle.
“This will make me feel good,” he affirms with a small thrust into you.
His fingers tremble oh so slightly as they cup your chin, lightly pulling your face toward his. Your lips meet again, molding themselves like two puzzle pieces made perfect for another. So deep, so passionately. You barely even notice the continuous rolls of his hips, setting a slow and cautious pace.
“I love you, Y/n,” he leaves the words on the surface of your lips. His eyes, beautiful as the shine of the television which has been long forgotten adds a crisp glow to his dark brown irises, scanning over your features as he takes you in. They flicker back and forth with yours while his fingers push away some flyaway hairs from your face. The others which are preoccupied with being locked within yours tighten their grip with yours in a protective way to offer comfort and reassurance. To emphasize how seriously he means to speak.
Your heart would skip a beat if it were actually possible without having cardiac arrest, but that’s what it feels like – in some manner – whenever Taehyung confesses to you in such a way. Love, the word, is strong enough. It comes with an unlimited number of reasons and meanings. Love, itself, is something scary and heartwarming all in one. To have this kind of love, the one you share with Taehyung, man – there is nothing like it. There can never be a duplicate or a replacement for it. You pity those around you because what you feel with your boyfriend feels like nobody else can have it – with him or anyone else. It’s indescribable – the feelings that swell deep in your heart and mind. They fuel every nerve and fiber of your being. It makes you vulnerable, through and through. But you would always give that chance; will always willingly give Taehyung your entire entity if you can.
Because he means that much to you. Your whole damn life has been made until now and you want nothing more than to continue writing it with Taehyung. You could spend forever and a day tangling in your half-naked embrace, innocently kissing away all your life with Taehyung if that were such a thing.
You try your hardest to stop yourself from stepping to that stair of emotions, you really do. The plateau of all your touchy-feely feelings that makes you feel weak and scared. But it’s only because you hate to give anyone the options to see them. To possibly hurt you so easily because you expose yourself.
But not for Taehyung.
Over the course of your relationship you’ve grown to allow him and only him to see these sides of you. You accept him and all. Which makes him one of the very few human beings to be worthy of seeing such a sensitive part of you.
Tears sting and threaten to break past the brims of your eyes and Taehyung tenses. He knows. Of fucking course he knows. He feels you, not just physically, but he can feel that connection you don’t need to describe to him through a cycle of words. Taehyung has never requested for you to explain. From the very start he’s completely accepted it. It’s understanding and patience, listening and learning. Even with two headstrong cardinal signs, where bickering and intense fights are bound to happen, the two of you make it work. Because even with all those hard times together, there are great times that outweigh those unfortunate happenings. It makes you two stronger together, feel really connected with one another.
“I…” you bottom lip quivers. It’s hard for you to admit even when it’s just the two of you. Your eyes close with frustration, but you can show him better than telling him. “Come here,” you whisper before latching your mouth onto his.
Taehyung steadies himself on his elbows. He moves enough to align himself without the assistance of your hands or his, resting his smooth cockhead at the dip of your pussy and right at your entrance. Taehyung rolls his hips into you, pressing his dick between your velvety folds with a growing smile on his lips. He lathers his cock up with your drenched pussy juices, rutting his cock against you before lifting just enough to align himself properly.
Shallow pressure taps and knocks at your entrance, teasing and begging to be let in. Taehyung hovers you as he molds his lips with yours. When he pulls back, he remains centimeters from your lips.
“Please, say it back,” he whispers in that pleading, soft baritone voice. It wrenches your heart, hearing how heartbreaking it sounds coming from his lips. It plucks every single one of your heart strings, yanking them off their cords and breaking them completely.
The light from the television turns off from being idle for far too long, darkening the room even more and leaving just the silent snowy landscape outside to illuminate the living room. You can still see thanks to the soft light, Taehyung’s features angling slightly more, but you can still see his beseeching eyes waiting for you to tell him those magic words.
“I love you, Taehyung,” you sigh, trying to hide the choked up sound threatening to come out of your throat. Your hand comes up to caress his cheek, and as you attempt to reassure him with the gentle gesture, you notice something wet on your finger.
Small, salty and sweet tears run down Taehyung’s face. You wipe them up carefully, not voicing your concern and halting your actions. Instead, you pull him back to you to lock your lips. Giving him everything in one whole meaningful kiss as you cradle his cheek in your palm.
Slowly, he glides himself in with a soft push. The stretch makes you tense momentarily, but the breathy moan that escapes your mouth gets eaten up by his. It’s a delicious feeling, this intrusion welcomed with anticipation and excitement. The pleasure causes him to snap his head to the side as he breathes a moan into your ear, sending chills down your spine as he spears his cock into your walls at a slow pace. It feels amazing for him as well.
Inch by inch you feel Taehyung sink further into you, touching all those areas on your walls that need to be touched. His cock fills you, widens your canal and leaves no room for extra space. Taehyung slots himself expectantly, nudging himself as deep as possible as your warm, slippery pussy hugs his dick with indefinite need. A yearning from missing the way his cock makes you feel.
“More,” your hands grope around his back and slide down to the small of his back. His skin is so unfairly smooth, you would love to run your fingers against it for eternity. You sigh again as your legs split as wide as they can go, pussy throbbing with intense vibrations. Edging closer and closer to snap that coil that’s been winded tight within, waiting to snap and spill all over. “I want more. I want you,” you emphasize by gripping the meat of his ass and pulling him into you.
“You have me,” he promises with kisses against your cheek. You can still hear that emotional twinge in his voice like an off-tune guitar. Where Taehyung’s emotions play too heavily on his heart and have a voice of their own. “Y/n, I’ve given you everything.”
Taehyung finally gives in to the pleasure of your whiny need. He bottoms out in one smooth motion, the seat of his lap sinking right against you. He drags his cock out at a leisurely pace, only to repeat his steady pace and plunge right back in. He’s experimental at first, the last thing he wants is for it to hurt if your body isn’t fully ready for his size. But you coo and squeak the sounds of satisfaction and pleasure in the air at every movement he makes, alerting him that he has the green light to do anything and everything.
“Thank you,” you whisper as you find his mouth again, kissing his tongue-licked lips. You hook your legs around his waist and begin to roll your hips up to match his actions, meeting him as his waist comes back down to you. “Can I keep you forever?”
“Whatever you want,” he breathes.
Your tongues dance behind another’s teeth, battling out this physical love as your bodies spiritually connect as much as possible. Taehyung continues to thrust his cock into you in a loving speed, nothing brutal or with vigor – just full blown love and adoration.
Both of your bodies hold an amazing amount of heat now. It’s the first time you actually notice it. You never thought you’d feel this safe in such an intimate position. Exposed completely, pinned completely. By the hands of someone else, and not controlled by your own decisions. Taehyung’s arms cage you in as if they’re 20 stories high in a castle built with the finest cemented bricks and barricades, guarded with a protective army and magical dragon ready to fry any intruder who dares step near.
“I want –” you gasp as Taehyung’s cock drags along a sensitive bit of your wall as he simultaneously rubs against your clit with his pelvis. A short, heavenly whine escapes your lips and you feel your body screaming at all ends. “– I'm close!”
Taehyung gently grips your jaw and tilts your head to face him as he continues to shallowly roll his hips into you, making sure to hit that spot again and again. 
“Look at me,” he requests. “Don’t look away.”
He looks down at you like you’re everything he’s ever wished for. He loves you. He cares for you. He’s given you every single bit of him inside and out. He feels the most complete with you. Even if he doesn’t know how to tell you this every day. How he doesn’t know how to explain to you what he sees and feels. When words fail to describe the way every nerve and fiber in him dances in unison when he thinks about you. When he touches you. When he’s inside of you.
You smile softly. Taehyung truly is your weakness, an Achilles heel. You’ll do anything for him, all he needs to do is just ask. Blink… Breathe your way. You’ll be willing to do everything. If Taehyung ever asks you to jump, you’d respond ‘how high?’ He’s made his way under your skin, closer than you’ve ever been with anyone. Burrowed himself, anchoring his being to you like you’re his lifeforce – or is he yours?
Your eyes meet his, witnessing how wide his pupils have grown. Filled with a glaze of lust. Taehyung gauges your facial features as answers, rutting himself a bit harder into you. He notices how your blinks begin to falter, how your eyes threaten to roll back and how badly you want to close your eyes and relish in the pleasure. How your head wants to lean further back, pressing harder into the cushion below you as a slur of desperate whines begin to escape your throat. Indicating to him that he’s bringing you closer to the edge of release, inches close to being knocked off a cliff into an abyss of pleasure.
“T-Tae,” his name comes out as a plea. Your fist finds its way to the back of his head again as his hair slips through your fingers.
“If you can see how beautiful you look right now,” he shyly grins. He doesn’t tell you how his climax is racing with yours as well and he struggles to keep his composure until yours crosses the finish line first. “I just want to make you so happy, Y/n. I’ll keep giving you everything.”
Taehyung’s confessions make you feel embarrassed especially during such an act. So pleasurable and intense. It’s something you have to get used to because he’s notorious for admitting his love in ways like this. With you opened like a book; physically, mentally, and emotionally. Where it hits you the most, coming in with full force. It’s always hard for you to comprehend it – but during these times you never have the moments to actually ponder his words. You just need to listen to the words and hear his voice.
Accept it.
“I’m… Fuck…Tae,” you quickly gasp, trying to respond but you’re constantly trying to catch your breath. The rhythm of his thrusts increases in speed, he’s determined to draw that orgasm out from you. “I… I!”
Your body tenses and jolts at once, hips faltering but continue to stay open as your pussy eats up his cock. Sucking it in with a fluttering tempo as your orgasm crashes and derails off its tracks. It dives right into a pool, drenching every inch of you. Your pussy becomes noticeably more wet, squelching noises resounding in the air as Taehyung continues to roll into you. Perspiration trickles across your skin, trying to cool down your body from the immense surge of heat that blasts through you. Tears dripping from the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as you stare at Taehyung. Feeling nothing but weak under him as pleasure ricochets throughout your body.
“I have you,” he reassures. “Y/n, it’s ok. I have you even if you don’t realize it. Even if you don’t think you’ve given yourself to me. I’m right here.”
“I love you,” you whisper. Your voice cracks, choked up from the immense love and pleasure. How your body cannot cope and grasp reality. Where everything you felt control of has been stripped and taken by the hands of the man hovering above you.
“I love you, too,” he responds breathlessly. Desperately. 
Taehyung still battles his own release even though his body acts on its own. Yet he continues to increase in speed, delivering his cock into your cunt repeatedly. Needy moans spill into your mouth when he gives you another kiss, wishing he could stop and wipe away every stray tear that has fallen from both you and him.
He pumps himself into you with one last burst of power, swelling his heart each second that passes by. Your drenched pussy makes it far too easy for him to slip and fall, ready to bust open and release every single drop in his tightening balls. Before his load is pulled by the trigger, he pulls out of you and buries his face into your neck. His body stalls as his fist energetically runs up and down his shaft. Taehyung’s hips shake above you as he rasps out the affirmation of his release into your skin, mouth parted and kissing in anguish.
Ropes of white cum spurt against your lower half and some against your shirt like paint being thrown onto a canvas, adding character and design. It’s warm and the subtle thump of it landing on your body makes it seem suddenly sexy. 
Taehyung plants a kiss to your forehead, hovering there for a few brief moments as the two of you recollect your breaths and thoughts. You notice the arms holding him up shake with lack of strength and adrenaline pumping through him. He must be tired and you begin feeling guilty for Taehyung doing most of the work tonight.
You lightly push against his chest to indicate a change in position. He lifts, leans back enough to seat himself comfortable on the couch as his cock lays against his stomach, spent and softening. Following him, you move forward and swing a leg around him. At first you sit yourself over on his thighs, not wanting to add pressure to his cock which must be sensitive still. Taehyung looks dazed, momentarily confused as his stunned blinking speaks directly to you.
“Kiss me,” you request as your hands grip the bottom of your shirt and pull it above your head, tossing it on the ground behind you. 
Your hands run up his chest to his neck, gently running them to cup either side of his face. You hold his head, admiring the tired and sleepy look on his features.
“Again?” he questions as he reluctantly rips his eyes away from gawking at your exposed chest.
“Yes.” You answer, even when you know he’s asking more than one question.
You lean in, feeling the way Taehyung’s palms skirt the meat of your thighs and guide themselves toward your ass. He pulls you closer to him, ignoring the swelling of his cock that increases in pressure. Your lips meet, feeling the smooth cupid's bow meet yours. It’s sweet, genuine. You pour everything you have in you into the kiss, somehow hoping he can feel all your emotions in one gesture.
“Thank you,” you smile into the kiss.
The digital clock behind you reads 00:24 am. Flurries continue to fall outside, adding on another blanket of fresh white snow. Your loveable dog rests in his own puppy-slumber within the house, you do hope he forgives the two of you. The television fails to revive for another film. You and Taehyung continue to envelope yourselves with another, tangling your limbs, bodies, and souls.
Being closer than you’ve ever been.
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Moodboard by: @kth1​ 
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© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.
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bronx-bomber87 · 4 months
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Happy Thur lovely fandom :) So sorry for being a day late. Kinda a miracle took this long for life to knock me off course tbh. Entering our final 3 eps of this rewatch. It’s the final Countdown ha This is a glorious episode top to bottom. This season really finishes out very strong. Let us begin.
5x20 S.T.R
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We start off in the most domestic fluffy way. I was giddy af when this premiered. Took me awhile to get through this ep cause I rewound this part so much. They have this flirty dance as they prep for breakfast together. Tim checking her out as he places the pancake down. Not subtle in the least looking down at her chest. I love that he can shamelessly check her out now and does so. Lucy is soaking it in. I mean if Tim Bradford was openly checking me out I’d feel empowered too.
The confident way Lucy leans extra hard into Tim as her response. *fans self* Needing zero space between them if she can help it. She is eyeing those gorgeous lips of his as well. Doesn’t take much to ignite Tim around her. Moth to flame this man. Lucy pressing into him like she didn’t just have him this morning in the shower. Gah I love it so very much. Our horny little ship never getting enough of each other. I’m a puddle. Look at her seducing him with just her body language and gaze my goodness.
Tim’s soft reply of 'Hey.’ Smitten Kitten Tim reporting for duty. Getting what she is throwing down for him. *sigh* These idiots in love. I love them so much. Happiness once again looking so damn good on them. They’re both beaming in this scene. Look at the smiles on these two. Said it a few times. Forever love how one kiss is never enough. Doesn’t take much to get them going and wanting extra kisses. Tim pulling on her for more as he goes in for that second kiss.
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Also Tim cooking breakfast for Lucy is so adorable I cannot. This is canon now and I love it. So nice she has someone to cook for her now unlike when she was with the clown. And for Tim to have someone who enjoys breakfast. Which he didn't have with Ashley. Tamara breaks up their love fest. Parting the Red Sea that is Chenford on her way to the fridge. Tim's reaction is so funny. Just throwing his hands up in the air all defeated.
At first he’s annoyed then Tamara says her line. Then he’s like she’s not wrong... LOL Oh Eric you’re the king of expressions sir. Let’s just take a second to to soak this moment in. They’re making breakfast together, can’t keep their hands off one another, his hands on her waist pulling her close, they can’t even keep it to one kiss. It’s glorious on so many levels. Not squeeing to death at all.
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Lucy and Tim still gravitate toward each other despite Tamara's interruption. Lucy noting she thought she was sleeping in today? Ha Thought she had the morning to herself with Tim. Tamara explaining she was but the smell of pancakes woke her up. We see Tim perk up so excited to make her pancakes. He truly does love having her around it's adorable. Happy it was his cooking that awoke her. Such a dad excited she wants his cooking. I cannot.
He is so happy to make her some pancakes. What a man. I LOVE the way Lucy is looking at him when Tamara says she wants 3. He looks back at her and she cutely raises her eye brows. Just as smitten with this man as he is with her. They’re so adorable. They hear the doorbell ring and Tim freezes and says ‘shoot.’ all adorable like. Telling Lucy Isabel texted him. Her name getting stuck in his throat a little. That he totally forgot to tell her he invited her over here. Lucy stumbles and is in shock but recovers pretty nicely if you ask me.
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Tim being adorable saying he is sorry. That he was gonna tell her when she got out of the shower. But then he got in the shower…oh my lord. Legit announcing they had shower sex this morning. Am I dreaming? Tim Bradford saying out loud they had little morning delight in the shower. I can't believe my ears and I'm ship drunk. S5 continues to feel like a fever dream.
Not only that but talking about their sex like in front of their pseudo daughter LOL Lucy playfully hits Tim but is still beaming at him. The shower sex was so good and distracting he forgot his ex-wife was coming over. I'm reeling. God I love this season so very much. It’s insane the glorious goodies that we got. Also must point out the necklace anytime I see it. I spy with my little eye Lucy’s Valentine’s Day gift that never leaves her neck. *internal screaming*
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Lucy is so uncomfortable once Isabel is inside poor thing. Trying to be a good last second hostess. Asking if she’d like something? Isabel says coffee. Tim guides Isabel to the living room. Tamara speed walks to Lucy asking if this is the ex-wife? Lucy scolding her for being so loud I'm dying. This is hysterical.
This is such a mother/daughter moment I love it. Lucy agreeing it is odd he invited her over. Tamara's protective instinct kicking in saying she’s gonna do some research. Lucy doesn’t want this whatsoever. Scolding her once again but the train has left the station haha I love Tamara so much. I hope we get lots of her in S6.
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Lucy joins Tim and Isabel in the living room. I have to say before I start. I’m so distracted by Tim’s hands in this scene. Mmm doing things to me. I know I have a one track mind when it comes to him. But look at the man... Anyways she brings up 8 years ago she was UC in the Teska family. Became a mentor to the boss’s daughter Dara. Love the little check in's they do with each other BTW as she speaks.
It's subtle their eye contact but that's their specialty. Silent communication at it's finest. Isabel tells them she got close to Dara. In that weird way you do when you’re pretending to be someone else. They have no idea what that’s like…*cough double down cough* I do love the way Lucy’s eyes dart between Tim and Isabel.
So after Frank her dad was arrested she scattered and left that identity behind. Hadn’t heard from Dara in 8 years. Until now. She had answering service for her old covers. That she left a message for her. It was a distress call and sounds like people are chasing her. She came to them because she’s out of cover. Can’t seem to find her through other channels. Tim says they can go to station get warrant for her phone. See if they can't find her that way.
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Once they’re at the station Tim and Isabel are en route to Grey. Smitty welcomes him back and is awkward af with Isabel. Because well Smitty. She asks if he's back from vacation? He says no a shooting. That he just got cleared from it. Says he’s getting there but Lucy keeps trying to get him to meditate. This would be adorable to see btw. I love all of Melissa’s tea ceremony’s and meditation videos. Tim is more the kinda to take a deep breathe and go for a walk and chill like he did in 3x11 with Barnes. Their versions of meditation are vastly different LOL
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I love the way Harper walks over to check in on Lucy. Forever be in awe of how they started to where they are now. Nyla being apart of Lucy’s BAMF journey still makes me so happy. Harper asking her if she’s ok with Tim working this case? Lucy letting her know it’s not a big deal…that he’s over her. Nyla shooting back she knows that. She’s making sure Lucy does. Love her looking out for Lucy. Doesn't want her to get riled up over nothing.
Clearly Harper has seen the way Tim beams around her. Knows that man is gone for her. Lucy couldn’t be cuter telling her to stop it with a playful hit. Tamara comes up ruining her 'ok vibe' with her deep dive news. Harper’s face is hilarious. She like Eric has fantastic expressions. They make me laugh so much during this scene. Tamara divulging everything she’s found. Lucy trying to spin it into something positive. That it sounds like she’s got her life together.
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Tamara is instigating saying 'Or she wants Tim to see she’s doing well.' Why are you doing this to your mother? Lmao. She loves you and houses you little lady haha I do love Lucy calling herself his new girlfriend in her explanation. Yeah you are. Tamara continuing her instigating mentioning how Tim said she looked good. Also tacking on 'Keep your enemies closer...'Lucy is so exasperated with her I’m dying. Pulling that look from her husbands book.
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Isabel asks how long Tim and Lucy have been dating? He says a few months. Can tell he doesn’t want to delve too much into this. Diverts it back to her. Asking if she’s seeing someone? Letting him know yes and no. That he set the bar really high. He sure did and you threw it away madam. Didn't know what she had till it was gone. I know some saw this as her trying to get him back. I didn't see it that way at all. This SL wasn't built on that. This ep had her show back up for a couple reasons. One we will see later on with Lucy but this one here was more about closure IMO. The last time they spoke or the last time we saw them really speak was back in 1x12.
A conversation where she basically blamed him partly for their marriage falling apart and her addiction. That he would be a constant reminder of it. Tim didn't walk away from that convo feeling great about himself. It inflicted some deep wounds for him actually. Those wounds showed themselves in his relationship with Ashley. By not rocking the boat and being less rigid. Him smile is a little uncomfortable and strained. I I think because one it's opening up wounds he's worked really hard to close. Two he's not totally sure he believes her words but he will take them anyways. Some closure is better than none at all.
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Tim and Isabel are waiting outside a motel. They tracked Dara down here. Isabel stayed here once in hiding with her. They talk about her UC life a bit. Tim telling her how he held his breath every time she went on a long term assignment. Isabel noting even when she came back she wasn’t fully there. Even though she wanted to be.
Tim pulls his gaze from her. It’s like re-opening a wound for him once again. One that’s been healed over for while. He doesn’t want to pick at it any further. Tim tells her since she’s not a cop anymore she needs backup. Lucy is on her way to them now. Isabel can’t help but note he's dating another UC.
The sweet smile when he thinks about her has me squeeing. Nothing makes him melt faster than talking about her. Telling Isabel ‘But Lucy is different.’ Yeah she is. I love him being able to see that. He looks so damn in love as he speaks. Just giddy and gushing. Also him once again being protective over his relationship with Lucy. It makes me so happy. He couldn’t be more in love with her if tried.
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The scene in the truck is fantastic. First off Lucy looks amazing. Second I adore her absolute confidence about Tim. Isabel thinking it’s about Tim she wants to pick her brain. I love her saying 'No she has Tim all figured out.' I mean she does. Has owned the book of Tim for years now. No one knows that man better than she does.
Isabel may have years on her. Knowing him longer but Lucy has her beat in knowing him better. She don’t need no cheat codes for this man haha This scene is really cute. They’re both laughing and having a good time. Tim is confused as hell trying to hear their convo LOL So annoyed and frustrated he can’t hear what they’re talking about.
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Lucy gets serious and asks her about UC. If it was worth it for her? Despite all the bad things that happened? I love how honest Isabel is. I also love how this wasn’t a oooh his ex-wife comes back and causes havoc thing. So grateful they went the mature healthy route with this. Was so very lovely to see her back and healthy. Isabel coming back added to the elephant in the room. Lucy being a UC while being with Tim. Like I mentioned earlier she came back for a couple reasons. This is the other one.
Lucy getting an honest opinion about this career she's considering. Isabel is completely honest with her. Saying it took a lot from her. Her husband, her job and her self respect. But she can’t blame all that on being a UC. That she had stuff in her past that added to it. Adding in sounds like Lucy has much healthier coping mechanisms than she did. Lucy is seeking out some answers because she’s having doubts. No doubts that she can do this. Lucy is very aware she is good at it.
What she’s weighing is the cost now. Here’s my take on a Lucy with UC. Take it or leave it and I'll delve into this more at the end as well. Pre-Tim UC made ton of sense for her. Hell even Pre-Tamara as well. Now she has this little patch work family she loves. That’s what she’s leaving behind now with these OP’s. Leaving Tim behind. I think she struggling with the idea of doing so in the future. Isabel’s answer was open and honest. IF she’s prepared to make those sacrifices. IF. I don't know that she is. Not anymore. Falling in love with Tim has changed everything.
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Speaking of our boy. Tim ends up calling Lucy asking if the wire is fixed? Poor love is feeling so anxious right now. He needs to know it’s working. Lucy laughs with Isabel and says a wire must’ve disconnected. Mmhmm… Does a sound check for him so he can see it’s ok. They see Dara coming back and Lucy calls him ‘Babe.’ again and I’m floating. It’s such a simple word and makes me all giddy. I need more of this in S6. I really do.
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We rejoin them post-op coming home. Love her asking if he wants a beer? Such a domestic moment. We got to start with one and end with one. Fantastic. Lucy mentions 'She seems good. Happy.' Tim asking Isabel? Lucy just replies ‘Hmm.’ Tim saying yeah she deserves it. Seems like he's talking about more than just Isabel. I do love the look in his face when she says this. That empathy of hers shining through.
One of reasons he loves this woman. Genuinely being happy Isabel is ok. There is also a lot behind the second look he gives her before he sits down. How he’s staring at Lucy before he lands on the couch seems loaded. Isabel coming back has stirred up a lot for him. That lingering look he gives her. It's almost got a sad haunted look to it.
Tim has been through so much all he wants is to be happy with Lucy. Saw a sad tag about his expression. Saying how he looks like he doesn’t deserve to be happy. This broke my damn heart. Falls in love again for the first time since Isabel and she’s on the same path she was. He looks so tired and defeated by the time he sits on the couch. I wanna hug him.
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We get a cute little moment before this scene turns serious. Lucy mentioning it was nice to get to know the person behind all his stories. Tim asking if that’s why they muted themselves? Ha A little serious but mostly joking. Lucy saying it was just to talk trash about him of course hehe Tim couldn’t be cuter with his smile and saying sarcastically ‘Funny.’ That Lucy smile we all know and love.
The way this man looks at her my goodness. Also let’s not skate passed the sexy stubble adorning his beautiful jawline. Or the fact that they’re drinking and chatting at the end of their day. So married. Making my heart swell. The sassing and teasing never gets old. It’s the best between them. Just hits differently now they’re together too.
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Lucy looks at him and takes the plunge into what she wants to talk about. Asking if she can share something vulnerable with him? Gah I love her sharing in the first place. Tim puts down his beer and gives her his full attention. Saying of course she can. I love this first shot of them. Her beautiful view as the backdrop to start this conversation.
Lucy starting off with telling him she loves working undercover. Tim doing his Lucy smile for her. Knowing how much she truly does. Even though it kills him. Lucy goes on to say she’s never gone as deep as Isabel. Doing a 6 month run or a year long. Tim thinking he has this pegged. Voicing she's worried she won't be able to handle it?
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This next line kills me. Makes me a little emotional. Because Lucy is so emotional bringing this up. Her worry for him so very evident and deep. Tears brimming in her eyes. The way she touches his shoulder gently. Voicing her vulnerability and fear about him. It’s the way she rubs her hand up and down his shoulder not making eye contact till she speaks her worry.
Ripping my heart right out. Tim putting on a brave face for her and reaches out for her hand. Embracing her warm touch. Covering her hand with his. Telling her he’ll be fine. Ugh but you won’t my love. You really won’t. Even though he knows it is different this time. Because it is. Logically he knows this. Doesn’t mean he’s going to worry any less.
Hell it might even be more worry this go around because of the PTSD. Next ep is proof of that. Lucy not fully believing him says ‘Yeah.’ Tim is refusing to be in the way of her UC aspirations. Reassuring her he will be fine. I love the way he pulls her into his arms for a snuggle. Telling her to 'Come here.'
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Her leg over his thigh. *squee* I’m dying. Getting real close to snuggle in for this moment. Tim looks like he goes for her hand but lands on her knee. Lucy looks damn near ready to cry. Tim rubbing her knee/thigh soothingly. My heart. Trying to find some solace in holding her in his arms. Look at his face. This man is anything but fine. He’s so very worried.
Holding her tight to him. Taking comfort in the fact she’s with him now. Savoring they're together right now. They really need to have more conversations about this. Honest ones. Lucy doesn’t want to leave him but he also isn’t telling her to stay. Just lying liars who lie right now. We all know she would have just as much trouble if it was Tim.
This sweet cuddling is beautiful and heartbreaking all at the same time. I am excited we finally got some good couch snuggling. Tim looks absolutely terrified he’s going to lose her though. Not only lose her but to same thing he lost Isabel too. Ugh it hurts so good everyone.
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The way Tim slightly shakes his head trying to kick loose his tormented thoughts. *heart clutch* His little smile though is everything. Knowing she so worth going through this again even if scares him to death. Lucy looking gutted about the thought of leaving him behind UC. Knowing he is anything but ok with this scenario. I believe she is having some doubts about being a long term UC now. I think she was hoping Tim would’ve had a different answer. Maybe given her an out about it. I think she’s being torn between what she thinks she should be and what she now wants.
She's been on on the UC path so long it scares her to get off it. I totally get it I wanted to be a dog trainer forever. When first moved to CO it didn’t happen. It was my goal moving there but it didn't happen. So I got a different job settled into that for awhile. Then when things came up for dog trainer while at this other job. I felt the need to still do it even though I was fine at my current job. Why? Because I had been on that path forever thought I had to because of that. But I wanted someone to tell me it was ok not to if I didn't want to anymore.
I think Lucy wants Tim to tell her not to so she has an out and can pursue something else. You can be amazing at something and not have it be your career path. Also her sticking with it might be little bit of that old self doubt creeping back in. Lucy thinking I’m good at UC can I be this good at anything else? Doubting she will be good at anything other than UC. I mean she doubted herself in 5x19 with the test. She has grown but those doubts can still creep back in. *sigh* These two. Both still holding back. Needing to have more convos about this for sure in s6. But what a damn good ep.
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Side notes-non Chenford
Aaron being Angela’s aide is hilarious. Also her getting the guy to confess cause she’s so pregnant and uncomfortable is hilarious.
Isabel and Lucy being bad asses on their OP was fun to watch.
Thank you to all you amazing readers who like, comment and reblog these reviews. Give me life hehe Shall see you all in 5x21 :)
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darkstar225 · 5 months
Text
@woso-fan13 Updated Masterlist
Updated: 04 January 2024
I have no clue why I did this, I just love this writer sm and wish I could check everything in one place since I keep re-reading the fics lol
PS: If the writer wants me to delete the post and send it to you so you'll post it, feel free to message me! I just love the fics and felt like doing this :D
It didn't fit everything so check out @woso-fan13 for the other masterlist with the rest S2
Sicktember 2023
Number 1: Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care
Number 2: Quest For A Cure
Number 3: “What Happened To Your Phenomenal Immune System, Huh?”
Number 4: Hiding an Illness
Number 5: Preventative Measures (Not Taken)
Number 6: Sick & Injured
Number 7: “You’re A Jerk When You’re Sick”
Number 8: Persistent Fever
Number 9: White Coat Syndrome
Number 10: “The Only Place We’re Going Is To The Pharmacy”
Number 11: Beginner’s Guide To Faking Sick
Number 12: Home Remedy/Old Wives Tale
Number 13: Anxious Stomach
Number 14: “I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am.”
Number 15: Sick in an Inconvenient Place
Number 16: Consulting the Internet/Web MD
Number 17: Magical Remedy/ Healing Potion
Number 18: “Wear Your Coat, You’ll Catch a Cold”
Number 19: Curled Up With a Pet
Number 20: Cramping Pain
Number 21: “But if you stay, you’ll get sick too.”
Number 22: Terms of Endearment/Nicknames
Number 23: Coughing Fit
Number 24: “Did you just sneeze?”
Number 25: Confused/Disoriented
Number 26: Forehead Kisses
Number 27: Uncooperative Patient
Number 28: “I should have stayed home”
Number 29: Side Effects/Adverse Reaction
Number 30: Patient 0
WHUMPTOBER 2023
Number 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”
Number 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”
Number 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”
Number 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”
Number 5: “You better pray I don’t get up this time around.”
Number 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”
Number 7: “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”
Number 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”
Number 9: “Learning everything ain’t what it seems, that’s the thing about these days.”
Number 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”
Number 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”
Number 12: “I haven’t slept in days but who’s counting?”
Number 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”
Number 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”
Number 15: “I don’t need you to help me, I can handle things myself.”
Number 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”
Number 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”
Number 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”
Number 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”
Number 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”
Number 21: “See the chains around my feet.”
Number 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.
Number 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”
Number 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”
Number 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”
Number 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”
Number 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”
Number 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”
Number 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”
Number 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”
Number 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”
Comfortember 2023
Safe
Sweater Weather
Leaves Changing
Warmth
Treehouse
Notes
Sick/Illness
Grief/Mourning
Aftermath
Sadness
Comfort Show/Movie
Dreams
Baking
Late Night Phone Calls
Plushies
Coffee/Tea Break
Heirloom
Cuddles
Loved Ones
Shopping
Relapse
Cry
Anxiety
Blankets
Rain
Friends
Soup
Flashbacks
Sleepover
The New Normal
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