#unpolished nails

[ujuro]

It’s a bit hard to put loveless in context since I’ve heard A Lot of shoegaze that came after it but man the middle three song run of when you sleep-I only said-come in alone washes pretty much all of the rest of it

[seeraphina]

nail polish im wearing promises 10 days of wear but didn’t stop to think abt the fact that my nails grow an extra inch every like 3 days

[toy-fruit]

[veneerslipstick]

*+:”no, i’m not jealous..!”｡.｡

jealous!veneer x GN!reader

• one shot

• fluff

being a stylist for the famous twins velvet and veneer has put quite a turn on your life. you loved your job, and you fell even more in love with “the star”‘s brother, veneer. you and veneer have been dating for quite some time now, past the honey moon stage, and now becoming more aware of each others patterns that you two express. recently, though, you have noticed veneer has had a striking eye on the sweet interviewer, kid ritz, who has taken a strong liking to you.

you and venners relationship hasn’t been very open to the public, especially no pda. so when you’re invited to a red carpet to model with the siblings, kid ritz starts to become a little more confident with stealing veneers other half… veneer starts getting a little fussy, let’s say.

what will he do to prove that you’re his and his only ?

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧

bzzzzz…bzzzz..

you awake from your sleep at 5am with a groan of

dissatisfaction , tasting dampness in your mouth.

rolling over to your pack, you lazily wipe your mouth

with the palm of your hand and limply let your hand

fall to the side of the bed, reaching for your phone to

turn off your alarm. you laid there for six minutes to

absorb reality, half dreaming in your head, then

remembering what today was. velvet and veneers red

carpet show. you groaned even louder, pulling

yourself out of bed and stumbling across your room

to turn on your light.

the stylist life really had you done sometimes.

after a shower and getting ready for an hour, wearing

nice dress pants and a nice white collar. you grabbed

a croissant and a prepped iced coffee from your

fridge in preparation to leave, when you heard a

rhythmic knocking at your front door. eyebrows

furrowed in confusion, you hesitantly opened the

door to see a smiling veneer in a black zip-up hoodie

and black sweats.

be began walking towards you, backing you up into

the house and behind your door, where he placed a

hand on your lower back and kissed you sweetly

against the wall. it was short and sweet, pulling away,

your face flushed. he moved his hand to your hip.

“sorry, vel’s in the car. y’know how she is.” he said in

a low voice, clearly still waking up. shaking your head

with a smile, you started ; “you came to pick me up?”

he grinned, running his fingers through his

unpolished hair.

“‘course i did, it’s a special day, y/n. why wouldn’t i

come pick up the love of my life for fun?” he sounded

sassy, and you waved a hand in his face.

“alright, yeah yeah,” you slithered past him and out

the door, where you spotted velvet filing her nails in

the passenger seat of their car. you waved to her as

you headed to the vehicle and she spotted you in the

corner of her eye, smiling slightly at you before

turning her concentration to her nails again. you

knew she liked you, veneer told you she admitted it,

but because she thought you were a good role model

for veneer. and she mentioned she admired your

style. as expected, she wasn’t too fond of the fact

you were their stylist, assuming you were giving

veneer special treatment… which you did. only

sometimes, though.

climbing into the back seat, you set your bag down

and veneer climbed into the drivers seat. starting the

car, he turned completely in his seat to look at you,

his hands on the headrest.

“soooo, y/n, we wanted to ask you something,” he

started, and you heard velvet groan. curious, you sat

on the edge of your seat. “what’s up?”

“did you…” he was basically jittering in his seat,

glancing over at velvet with a big smile on his face.

“good GOD veneer, just ask them! you’ve done it

before!” velvet exclaimed , throwing the nail file at

him. he tossed it back and looked at you.

“would you like to be on the red carpet with us

todaaaaay?” he spat out quickly , his feet kicking.

you smiled and suddenly had a gush of excitement.

“of course!” you replied. you had been to only a few

red carpets with them, and from what you saw on

the internet, people loved you. people weren’t aware

of yours and veneers relationship, but apparently

they were capturing small moments between you

two, like how he looks at you, or how he whispered

something in your ear as you walked by. which, yes,

was actually a romantic comment. as mentioned, you

both agreed no pda, but knowing veneer, he always

found ways to sneak small gestures to show that he

loved you.

“great!” veneer babbled , sitting in his seat properly

“you knew they would say yes, why are you acting

like you asked them to replace our position”

“well i am sorry i’m excited. i solemnly swear to never

do it again.”

“shut uuuuup PLEASE.”

you couldn’t help but laugh.

arriving to their dressing room, (i don’t know what

the building the dressing room is in is called???) you

all escort the car, veneer opening the car door for

you. you get out by swinging your legs over the side

and you take his hand to hoist yourself up. velvet was

already inside by the time yours and veneers little

connection was over. you both caught up to her and

made your ways to the dressing room.

opening the door to the room, you were greeted with

the scent of hairspray and cleaner. despite the

janitors countless times of deep cleaning the room,

velvet & veneers hairspray always lingered; like a

permanent scent. you set your bags on the ground,

veneer plopping on one of the vanity chairs and

velvet clapping her hands together once.

“so! y/n , we’re getting you ready first. i REALLY

don’t need to be messing up how i look during the

process just for you to look perfect.” velvet

announced and veneer furrowed his eyebrows

slightly at her. she caught his look, rolled her eyes

slightly and went over to you, taking you by your

shoulders and setting you down at the other vanity.

“sorry.” she mumbled. you didn’t react, you just

smiled.

“so, what’s the plan for me? are we matching?” you

asked, trying to hide the excitement in your voice.

veneer gasped and jumped up, clapping his hands

together.

“yes! oh, wouldn’t that be cute, vel?” he said

erratically. velvet scoffed and began running her

fingers through your hair to part it into sections.

“veneer, you gorgeous imbecile, we already bought

the outfit,” she pinned your hair up, “stop getting so

frantic. anyway, open the closet and bring out the

outfit. then get out. they’re changing.”

veneer cocked his head at her.

“but.. they’re my..?”

“i don’t care? i’m professional, you wouldn’t be. be

smart.” she shot back. he listened , winking at you

and got up to retrieve the outfit.

when he pulled out the outfit, you gasped audibly.

(ideas, otherwise make your own ideas in your head)

“velvet. and. veneer. this is… holy shit.” you felt

yourself begging to shake from excitement. veneer

smiled seeing how happy you were.

“you like it, yeah?” vel asked, you nodded fiercely.

“good. cause’ you weren’t getting anything else.”

veneer laughed. “she’s kidding. if you were to

somehow in some universe look bad in it, she would

instantly get something new.”

“why are you still here.” she snarled and looked back

towards him. he raised his arms in defence and left

the room.

velvet took her time styling your hair, putting pretty

pins and spray on glitter on it, plastering gorgeous

makeup on your face and was humming a song as

she did so. she felt oddly peaceful, you haven’t seen

her like this before. it felt nice. you watched her

through the mirror as she worked, clearly biting her

tongue. that was a form of concentration she did,

and whenever veneer pointed it out , she would get

upset. she got upset a lot. what’s new?

after a good , maybe , half an hour of work, velvet

was finished, and she had fitted you into the outfit.

she finally let you look at yourself in the mirror. that’s

when velvet gave veneer the “okay” for him to come

in. you were admiring yourself , hands running over

the outfit and fingertips lightly brushing certain

parts of your hair.

“mess that up and you’re done.” velvet said , her

arms crossed and hip popped to the side. veneer was

staring at you in a trance. no matter how many times

he’s seen you in red carpet outfits, he’s blown away

each and every time. he gazed with a smile of

genuine love & appreciation, eyes melting in your

back. and when you turned around, his heart

throbbed.

“wow, y/-“

“absolutely not. nope. no.” velvet intruded, standing

between you two and dragging veneer by the arm

and to the opposite vanity.

“anyway, our turn!” she exclaimed, sitting in the one

you were previously sitting at.

time skip to after …

and there they stood, two angels of pure beauty all

dolled up by you. sometimes you were convinced you

had magic hands. you felt proud of yourself.

(they’re twinning !! :3)

“ooooo i love !!” veneer squeaked, touching his hair

and holding his face. velvet was smiling, twirling in

the mirror and flexing her fingers in excitement.

“as expected, y/n, thank you. now,” she turned and

wrapped her arm around veneer , pulling him against

her shoulder and extending her hand towards the

ceiling.

“cmon, veneer and y/n, we’re going from stars to

megastars !!”

at that moment, a producer knocked at the door.

“showtime in 5 minutes!”

your heart skipped a beat, starting to feel the anxiety

creep up your throat.

“god they’re gonna love us!” veneer gushed, balling

his hands into fists and shaking them near his chest.

letting go of him, velvet started towards the door and

opened it.

“alright, y/n, time to make us famous!- oh, wait, we

already are. ha! i guess make us even MORE

famous!”

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° ˚ · • .

and there you all were, right at the entrance of the

carpet. you stood there focusing on your breathing,

and a ringing in your ears started. you kept shaking

your head to push it away, and veneer approached

you, putting a hand on your arm.

“pre show jitters?” he asked with a grin. you

snickered. “now where did you hear that

expression?”

he blinked at you, then shook his head. “let’s,

uh..anyway,” he gave you a quick kiss to your cheek.

“you’ll do great. i know it. act like they’re all idiots

and you’re the hottest and greatest one there.” you

shook your head at his foolishness, smiling.

“thank you, ven.” he let go of your arm and velvet

turned around to look at you two.

“‘kay, we’re on, veneer, we enter first, y/n, come

behind us and follow on my side.” she demanded,

and you both nodded.

and so it began, as soon as they hit the carpet, the

flashes and voices got louder and brighter. you

waited a moment, then strut your way behind them,

stopping beside velvets side when they did. gasps of

awe started, and more flashes appeared.

“the stylist!”

“they’re here again?”

“oh my ..”

your heart pounded and fluttered and you looked

ober the crowd with a confidence you didn’t know

you had.

the siblings posed and gave the audience what they

wanted, sort of leaving you by your own. veneer

looked back at you for a brief moment, giving you a

reassuring smile that basically told you, “do you.” and

so you did.

you then posed, gazed and smiled at the paparazzi.

you noticed all the other celebrities, some you were

fans of yourself, but most of the attention was on you

three. as you are looking at the paparazzi, you

recognized one of them.

oh , it was the interview. kid ritz, was that his name?

he looked at you a certain way, like his eyes were

going to bulge out of his head. you couldn’t tell

if you were uncomfortable or flattered, so you shown

a smile to him specifically. he looked away, he

seemed to be nervous. you found this amusing. you

decided to act for his camera only, turning around

and looking over your shoulder with a sly smile.

people crowded around him as they tried to capture

you in this moment , and the boy couldn’t seem to

concentrate on taking the pictures.

that’s when velvet approached you , posing right

behind your shoulder which drove them up the wall.

she smiled as she hooked her arm in yours with

veneer in her other.

“that’s enough now. let’s go,” she brought you two to

the stairs that lead to the entrance of the party you

were actually supposed to attending.

once inside, velvet let go of you and groaned. “god, it

is so tiring being famous sometimes.” she brushed

her outfit down. “alright, let’s go stuff our faces and

talk with people we hate. shall we?” she purposed

to veneer sarcastically , making her way to the what-

looked-like-a-ballroom part of the party. she dragged

veneer with her, him turning his head to wink at you.

you blushed and held one hand overtop of the other

in front of you. looking around, you adored the

interior of the building, a beautiful chandelier

sparking below victorian paintings on the dome roof.

your adoration was then interrupted when you heard

someone clearing their throat behind you.

you whipped around, frightened, and seen kid ritz

standing there , his face tinted pink. you blinked a

few times before smiling awkwardly. “oh, hello.”

“hi, we’ve never spoken before. i’ve interviewed you

with velvet and veneer before. i’m kid ritz.” he

introduced himself , a type of confidence in his voice.

he was not like this earlier.

your smile turning genuine, you nodded. “right, i

know you. it’s nice to properly know you.”

ritzs eyes trailed down your face all the way to the

end of your outfit, speaking as they went back up,

“their stylist , yeah? you did this up too?” he

asked, poking his cheek with his tongue. you gulped

and cleared your throat.

“oh, no, velvet did this. i think she did it stunningly..”

you trailed off as you looked down at your outfit,

brushing down a flap. now leaned against a wall

beside you, kid ritz put his pointer finger under your

chin and lifted it up, moving it smoothly across your

face to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“mmh, i’d say it matches your eyes.”

your moth went agape, and you suddenly realized

what he was doing. “oh, i—“

“mhm, it does, doesn’t it?” a voice came from behind

kid ritz, where veneer was standing with his hands in

his pockets, staring holes into ritz’ head. the

interviewer smiled , turning to face him but keeping

close to you.

“oh, veneer, how are y—“

“great , good. y/n’s good too. i think i can , uh,” he

approached you and stood slightly in front of you.

“take it from here. velvet would like to talk to you.” he

notified, pointing his head towards her who spoke to

other celebrities in the distance.

kid ritz looked at him disapprovingly and exhaled

slowly through his nose. he then smiled and

shrugged. “sure! no problem,” he looked over veneers

shoulder towards you. “nice talk, y/n.”

veneer glared at him and seemed to straighten his

posture vaguely as he walked away. finally being able

to breathe, you let out a shaky breath. he turned ,

walking past you. “follow.”

you listened, keeping a distance as you followed him

to a walk in closet out of the main room. you walked

in first, his back facing you as he closed the door. he

laughed to himself.

“i was waiting… waiting for that to happen.” he

began, turning to look at you. he wasn’t angry at this

point, just jealous. you said nothing.

“he looked at you like.. you were a piece of meat.” he

spoke through his teeth. he approached you, taking

your wrist as he pressed a kiss to your pulse point. he

looked at you.

“if he… oh, if he ever speaks to you or so-god-help-

me touches you when you’re not near me and it’s not

fame related, you tell me, y/n.” he insisted, leaving

you a

little speechless. he isn’t usually like this, even when

it came to creeps on the internet. you nodded, but he

shook his head, pulling you towards him by your

wrist, his hip pushing you gently against the wall.

“i need to hear you say it. say you don’t want him.”

he was near inches away from your face , you felt the

heat of his face radiate onto yours. your wrist against

the wall, you felt a little helpless. you wanted to kiss

him more than anything.

“i dont. i don’t want him, veneer, you.. you..” your

glossy eyes looked up at his deep, roused ones.

beneath the hatred he felt, all he could

think of was how you looked in that outfit and

wishing your eyes could only be locked with his

forever. no one else. you might’ve as well swallowed

his soul, because the trance you had him in was

supernatural.

a strange idea emerged in your mind, and you took

action, biting your inner lip until blood surfaced, and

veneer took notice , looking concerned.

“y/n, what—“

your lips crashed onto his, pressing your body

against him to fit the curve of his. a strangled sound

escaped his throat as if he lost a fight to an addiction

he couldn’t use all day, which, be did. your free hand

glided up his waist and to his collar, pulling him

closer as his hand slid up to yours against the wall,

locking fingers.

your tongue dipped into his mouth for a instant , in

advance to you breaking the kiss. he now had a stain

of red on his tubercles. his eyes were low and full of

affection. “there.” you whispered, licking your lower

lip. “now we’re intertwined.” you batted your

eyelashes at him with a smile. he looked a little

shocked but that expression was quickly changed

with a look of comfort.

“you are… something else.” he quickly kissed you one

last time, breaking the contact. you smiled slyly,

putting a hand on your hip. “you are… jealous. very

jealous.” you teased and he rolled his eyes.

“am not. i just don’t like when poor punks talk to my

partner.”

“that’s uh, that’s what jealousy is.”

“y/n.” veneer shot you a look and you laughed.

in front of him, you went to open the door, but before

you could , the door swung open first.your heart

stopped.

it was velvet. she blinked very slowly, her expression

unamused.

“get in the god damn car. i don’t have anything to

say to you two.” she said blankly, walking away. you

looked back at veneer who was holding back

laughter.

“i don’t think we’re ever doing a red carpet together

again.”

“absolutely not.” he agreed with a nod, taking your

hand as he lead you out to the crowd, leaving you

baffled.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧︵︵‿︵‿ ︵‿

a/n : this took me so long to publish just for it to be so sucky 😞 anywayyyyy i hope the person that requested this liked it!!! i’m now on christmas break so i’m slightly less busy , as always lmk if there’s anything i can do to improve the characters personalities 🫶🏻

[elryuse]

Yandere Mina x Yandere Kazuha X male reader? The ballet princess the two black swans with white swan personas make the reader breathe their suffocating love?

His Innocence

YANDERE MINA & KAZUHA X MALE READER

The practice room echoed with the tortured notes of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. Mina, the undisputed Black Swan Queen of Korean ballet, moved across the floor like a storm cloud, her every step infused with a dark grace. Her obsidian eyes, usually reserved for her most intense performances, were fixated on a single figure by the observation window.

Y/n. A new trainee, with limbs that resembled tangled marionette strings and a face etched with the awkwardness of an adolescent deer. Yet, it was this very awkwardness that held a strange allure for Mina. Perhaps it was the contrast to her own practiced perfection, the flicker of innocence in his eyes that mirrored the white swan Odette.

Just as Y/n tripped over his own two feet for the tenth time, the door swung open, revealing another vision in black – Kazuha. Her long, raven hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, her crimson lips a stark contrast to her pale skin. Her eyes, usually holding a cool indifference, blazed with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down Mina's spine.

"Pathetic," Kazuha drawled, her voice laced with disdain. "Is this what passes for 'talent' these days?"

Y/n flushed scarlet, mumbling an apology. Both Mina and Kazuha watched him, a silent competition sparking between them. They weren't just rivals on stage anymore; their gaze locked in a battle for this new, unpolished gem.

That night, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. His phone buzzed with a text, the sender unknown. It contained a single image – a black swan feather, impossibly perfect, lying on a bed of blood-red roses. Sleep evaded him, the image a chilling premonition of what was to come.

Mina's approach was subtle. She slipped into his practice room after hours, the moonlight casting silver streaks on her lithe figure. "You have potential," she said, her voice a low murmur. "But you need discipline, the kind only the Black Swan can teach."

Her touch was firm, bordering on cruel, her voice a constant whisper of encouragement that felt more like a threat. She pushed him beyond his limits, forcing him to contort his untrained body into impossible positions. Each groan of pain she dismissed as a necessary sacrifice, a perverse baptism by fire.

The next day, Kazuha materialized in his dorm room, her perfectly painted nails tapping an eerie rhythm against the windowpane. "Tired of Mina's torture sessions?" she purred, her eyes gleaming with a devilish light. "I offer a different kind of training… one that awakens the darkness within."

Kazuha's sessions were more unorthodox. She took him to abandoned buildings, their decaying walls echoing with the rhythmic thud of his forced movements. Her movements were a dark ballet of sensuality and aggression, a seductive invitation laced with a hint of violence. She whispered promises of greatness, of unlocking the hidden darkness within him – a darkness that mirrored her own.

Y/n was caught in a terrifying ballet, his innocence withering under the relentless attention of the Black Swans. The nights were haunted by nightmares of feathers and blood, his days filled with a growing sense of paranoia. He couldn't escape their gaze, their possessiveness a suffocating shroud.

One night, as Y/n lay awake in his dorm room, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the silence. He found another trainee, a girl who dared to show him a shred of kindness, sprawled on the floor, unconscious, a single black feather clutched in her lifeless hand. A message, clear and chilling.

Fear propelled Y/n to the rooftop, the only place he felt a sliver of peace. There, bathed in the moonlight, were Mina and Kazuha. The tension between them was gone, replaced by a disturbing camaraderie.

"Trying to escape?" Mina said, her voice devoid of its usual coldness.

"We can offer you something better," Kazuha added, a cruel smile playing on her lips.

Y/n stumbled back, his mind reeling. He understood now. They weren't just rivals; they were partners in a twisted obsession. They saw him not as a dancer, but as their possession, their plaything.

"We can make you perfect," Mina said, her voice a seductive whisper. "Together."

A dark plan unfolded. They started slipping him strange concoctions, elixirs they claimed would unlock his hidden potential. The once vibrant world around him began to fade, replaced by a disturbing clarity when it came to the two dancers. He saw not just their beauty, but the darkness that simmered beneath the surface, a darkness that mirrored the growing desperation in his own heart.

Their training sessions morphed into something more sinister. Mirrors lined the walls, reflecting their every move, a twisted ballet of control and submission. His body, once clumsy and awkward, began to contort with an unnatural grace. The concoctions, a potent mix of herbs and rumored aphrodisiacs, fueled his stamina and blurred the lines between pain and pleasure. He found himself mimicking their movements, the raw passion in their eyes infecting him, turning his steps into a desperate plea for acceptance.

One night, after a particularly grueling session, Mina led him to a secluded part of the practice hall. The air hung heavy with the scent of incense and something metallic. She lit a circle of candles, their flickering flames casting long, dancing shadows on the walls.

"Tonight," Mina murmured, her voice laced with a dangerous sensuality, "we complete your transformation."

Kazuha materialized from the shadows, a wicked glint in her eyes. They held him down, chanting in a language he didn't understand. As they pressed a cold, obsidian amulet against his chest, a searing pain ripped through him. He screamed, the sound echoing through the empty building, but no one came.

When the pain subsided, he felt different. Stronger, sharper. He could move with an unnatural fluidity, mirroring the Black Swans' movements with a terrifying precision. But something else had changed – his eyes, once filled with fear, now held a flicker of the same darkness that consumed Mina and Kazuha.

The Black Swan ballet was no longer a dream. It was a nightmare they were weaving around him, a performance fueled by obsession and a twisted sense of love. They had broken him, molded him into their perfect partner, a dark reflection of their own twisted desires.

Their debut performance was a masterpiece of macabre beauty. The audience gasped as Y/n moved in perfect harmony with the Black Swans, his every step imbued with a terrifying grace. But beneath the surface, a silent war raged. They fought for dominance, each vying for control of his body, his mind.

The final act was a chilling display of possession. As the music reached its crescendo, Y/n, his eyes blazing with a dark fire, reached out and grabbed both Mina and Kazuha. In a move that defied gravity, he lifted them high, their screams echoing through the auditorium. The audience, mesmerized by the spectacle, didn't realize the horror unfolding before their eyes.

With a single, brutal movement, Y/n slammed them together. A collective gasp filled the air as they crumpled to the floor, their perfect black swan costumes stained crimson. Silence descended, broken only by the ragged gasps of the fallen idols.

Y/n stood alone, bathed in the spotlight, the image of a perfect Black Swan marred by the blood on his hands. A chilling smile played on his lips. He had been their plaything, their possession. But in the end, it was they who belonged to him, forever bound together in a dance of madness and death.

The Black Swan ballet had concluded with a final, horrifying twist. It was a performance that would forever be etched in the memory of the audience, a chilling reminder of the dark price of obsession and the terrifying beauty of madness.

The stage lights dimmed, plunging the auditorium into darkness. The deafening silence was a stark contrast to the thunderous applause that had just moments ago celebrated the "Black Swan's Demise." But on the stage, another kind of performance was just beginning.

Y/n, his eyes still glowing with a feral intensity, looked down at the fallen idols. Mina, pale and broken, held Kazuha's hand, a silent communication passing between them. It wasn't defeat Y/n saw in their eyes, but something else – a chilling acceptance.

A cold whisper drifted past his ear. "You did well, Y/n," Mina rasped, her voice laced with pain and a perverse pride. "You broke free, just like we wanted."

Kazuha, her crimson lips stained with blood, mirrored the sentiment. "But remember, darling," she purred, her voice a seductive rasp, "Freedom comes at a cost."

Y/n felt a strange tremor within him, a flicker of his old self battling against the darkness that consumed him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was a puppet on their twisted strings now, their concoctions and dark rituals having completed his transformation.

The grand practice hall of their opulent mansion became their new stage. It echoed not just with the strains of Tchaikovsky, but with their moans and gasps as they pushed Y/n further, his body now a canvas for their desires.

Night after night, the dance of possession continued. Mina, with her cold, calculated control, molded him into a flawless mirror of the Black Swan's grace, while Kazuha, fueled by a fiery passion, ignited a darkness within him that mirrored her own.

He no longer dreamed of escape. His mind, fractured and twisted, found a warped sense of belonging in their macabre embrace. Every night, he was pushed beyond his limits, his exhaustion a twisted aphrodisiac that fueled their insatiable desire.

The Black Swans, once legendary idols, had become something more monstrous. They were sculptors, molding him into their perfect creation, their unwilling lover and eternal dance partner. Theirs was a love story written in blood and sweat, a chilling symphony of obsession that reverberated through the walls of their opulent prison, a testament to the destructive power of a love that was anything but pure.

And as the sun peeked over the horizon, casting its pale light on the tangled limbs and exhausted bodies on the practice floor, Y/n knew with a chilling certainty – this was his forever. A distorted reflection of the Black Swan Queen, forever bound to his captors, forever theirs to claim in their never-ending dance of madness.

[frudoo]

Hubby Gaz pampering his baby mama <3

Warnings: Pregnancy, fem!reader, mildly sassy Kyle lol

Fluff ahead 🤍

“Love, just let me do this for you,” Kyle sighs, brushing the wispy strands of hair out of your face.

You shake your head, lips pouty and tears threatening to spill. You were laying on the couch, attempting to put some pretty polish on your toenails despite being any day from giving birth. Your excuse? To make a good first impression on the baby. Kyle didn’t dare argue with your logic, but he’d be damned if he let you put more unnecessary strain on yourself.

“I can do it myself,” you insist, trying to contort your heavily pregnant body in a way that allows you to reach your toes.

Unsurprisingly, you can’t do it, and another frustrated sob escapes your throat. Kyle just places a second pillow under your head to get you comfy, taking his seat at the opposite end of the sofa and plopping your calves onto his lap. He massages your sore feet for a while, grinning at the content sniffle you let out.

“Gonna let me take care of you, now?” He questions with an amused hum, gently rubbing his way up to your swollen ankles.

You huff in response but nod anyway, fidgety hands finally taking rest on the curve of your belly. The baby inside rewards your touch with a strong kick to your palm, and you would find it cute if it wasn't for the jab to your ribs that followed. Kyle chuckles at your pained whimper, one hand coming up to rub your bump fondly.

“Just a while longer, my dove,” he coos, patting your tummy a couple of times before reaching for the bottle of nail polish you’d chosen earlier.

“Easy for you to say,” you roll your eyes, adjusting the pillow that you had placed beneath your back when you were sure you could do it on your own. “You don’t have to push a whole child out.”

“No, but I have to hear you whinin’ about it,” he shrugs, curving his lips into a sly smile when he feels your glare concentrated on him. “I’m only teasin’, love.”

Another huff escapes you before Kyle finally swipes the first coat of paint onto your toenail. He’s surprisingly precise, tongue bit between his teeth in concentration. Everything about his actions is calculated, each stroke of the polish-coated brush flawlessly coating its keratin canvas with ease. You giggle, and he finishes painting your pinky toe before looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Somethin’ funny, dove?” He questions, gently blowing cool air onto the fresh polish to encourage it to dry, which only makes you giggle more.

“You’re so focused. It’s cute,” you beam, watching as he dips the wand into the little glass bottle to collect more shiny polish in the bristles.

“Just makin’ sure you give the little one a good first impression, like you said,” he teases, one emollient palm cradling the base of your other foot to color your unpainted toenails.

You hum softly, eyes fluttering shut as your sweet, doting husband continues to tend to you, making sure that no spot is left unpolished because he knows it would just give you grief. Once he’s satisfied with his work, he glances up to see you fast asleep, chest and belly rising and falling in sync with your deep breaths. He grins, carefully shifting your legs off of his lap to stand, then leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

When you wake up, you’re in bed with a fresh, matching coat of shiny polish on your fingernails.

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

So, something I wanted to ask about is why is Seaglass less detailed than the other gems? I am asking this because she doesn't have visible nails, her feet look like paws, and her hair looks less like hair and more like blown glass. Does it have something to do with how unpolished her gemstone is?

No, she's just a baby.

[sellenite]

fall leaves

thinking about angsty sex with Satoru as you're still grieving the loss of Suguru (after his defection)

pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader, mentions of Suguru Geto x reader (in the past) contents: angst, fem!reader, PinV sex (unprotected), not thoroughly proofread word count: 944 notes: takes place post Suguru's defection, so all characters are aged up to be approximately college-aged AN: sorry if this isn't that good—I was feeling an itch to write something angsty and came up with this kind of fast <3 I want to start writing more emotional pieces but sometimes I feel I lack the proper words/ talent, but I am trying :') MDNI | 18+

It had been a month since Suguru Geto defected from Jujutsu society—thirty sleepless nights you had spent counting the tiles on the ceiling, their edges blurred in the dim light that filtered through the window.

Suguru’s absence left a void in your chest, a cold sharpness that bled into your spine where the warmth of his hands used to touch. The bed of your dorm room felt all too small without the length of his body to fill the space beside you—a side of the bed you still hadn’t dared to sleep on, as if leaving it open would allow the chance for him to slip back in one night.

Night after night, you waited for a miracle, your breath catching in your throat and eyes darting to the window at the slightest stir of the wind outside. But Suguru never came. You kept the window open, even as the late summer turned to fall.

The circles under your eyes looked more like bruises, deep purple and blended with the perpetual smudge of black mascara that graced your waterline. Your wet eyes and shaky hands never stopped you from applying it in your morning routine, clinging to any sense of normalcy you still had left.

None of the others seemed to be faring much better. You had all thrown yourselves into your work; for Shoko, it was shifts at the infirmary, and Satoru was gone for weeks at a time with new missions. You accompanied Nanami on some of his, not deemed strong (or maybe stable) enough to go on any on your own.

You weren’t sure who initiated it, in all honesty, but you still found yourself pressed against the cold wood of your door. The kiss was tentative at first, lips meeting slowly, noses nudging against each other—a taste of innocence. But then came a second kiss, and then a third, and then your hands were laced through the tufts of his white hair, lips parting and tongues clashing as you chased the warmth of one another with a desperate kind of want. Satoru’s hands were on your hips, pressing you to his chest with a force that made you cling to him just as hard—as if either of you let go, the other would be swept away.

You fumbled with each other’s clothes in the dark, movements needy and unpolished as you backed your way closer to your bed. You ran your hands over the skin of Satoru’s chest, the feeling of his hungry mouth on yours keeping you grounded, distracted from the feelings of betrayal that threatened to claw through your chest.

He laid you back onto your sheets, bodies flush against each other—skin to skin—as his lithe fingers worked the elastic of your panties down your thighs. (His fingertips were softer than Suguru’s, missing the familiar callouses you had grown to love—the tenderness of his touch despite the roughness of his skin.) Satoru bit down hard into your lip, drawing you from your thoughts, and you whined against his mouth before his tongue swiped across to soothe the wound.

He filled you, soothed you in a way only the touch of another human’s skin against yours could, and you let him—breathed him in and gave your body to him as he rolled his hips into you, needy and rough. Your nails dug into his shoulders, and he hissed, returning it with a bite to the junction of your neck. The pain echoed through you, and your hips arched into him, giving as he took from you. It was selfish entirely, the way you fucked each other as you thought of someone else.

Satoru’s thrusts were deep and fast, bristling with a passion he typically only showed when he killed. But your body welcomed it so pliantly, the heat of all of his anger and heartbreak and betrayal bleeding into your own. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he caged your body between his arms, grunting into your skin as he chased the distraction of a fractal piece of euphoria.

Your body tensed along with his pleasured sobs mixed with pain and heartbreak that dulled with every harsh thrust. It wasn’t healing, but you found a numb kind of bliss in the act of letting yourself be fucked. Satoru brought a hand between your legs, circling harshly at the bud of your sex, and your back arched as you pressed into him with a whimper.

You could feel the heat beneath your skin turn to a boil, the pressure mounting inside of you, and the ache in your chest came back, sharp and coiling around your throat as the band of pleasure in your core threatened to snap. You came with a muffled sob, tears streaming down your cheeks as Satoru gave a few more thrusts before he stilled inside of you, his face still buried in your shoulder.

When his eyes finally met yours, he didn’t comment on your tears—only regarded you soundlessly before he flipped you over, letting you rest your head against his chest. You sniffled back the remnants of your tears until you were calm enough to get cleaned up. Satoru ran a rag gently along the skin of your thighs, and you smiled softly at the sentiment.

You let him stay with you that night, pressed together in a bed that was much too small for two people, the same way you and Suguru used to lay. He held you to him, pressed gentle kisses into your hair, and you closed your eyes to savor the warmth as you drifted off into a hazy space somewhere between rest and death.

[pearlesscentt]

love in the little things : svt vocal unit

── alternatively: the times when actions whisper softly, but the love speaks volumes.

svt (vocal unit) x reader, established relationship, fluff , 883 words

hiphop unit | performance unit

꒰ 🌸 ꒱ — you entered the room with hesitant steps, feeling like there was a weight of a hundred pairs of eyes watching you. as expected, the class reunion was already in full swing when you arrived. you weren't even looking forward to coming tonight but your friends insisted that you all come. JEONGHAN must've felt your hesitation as you felt his hand on your back, you let out a sigh of relief.

with his hand there, you felt your confidence bloom. it was as though the warmth of his palm released all the tension in your spine and all the knots in your stomach unraveled.

as the night unfolded, laughter and music filled the air and you found yourself more at ease, able to savor the nostalgia with your friends and enjoy the moment. his touch on your skin was like an oath, whispering, "i've got your back." in that promise you found strength and certainty that he, both literally and figuratively, will always be there for you.

꒰ 🌸 ꒱ — it all began one evening when frustration started to bubble up inside of you after another failed attempt at painting your nails with your non-dominant hand.

"hey, can i help?" JOSHUA's gentle voice cut through your frustration, accompanied by a soft smile.

you looked at him skeptically. "do you know how?"

he shook his head, his eyes filled with determination. "no, but I can try."

with a shrug and a chuckle, you handed him the nail polish bottle. the brush looked almost comically small in his hand, but with a surprising level of precision, he began to paint your nails.

since that day, it had become a cherished ritual for the two of you. you found yourselves sitting on your bedroom floor, surrounded by scattered nail polish bottles, talking about your days in between every soft stroke of color. joshua insisted that you call him whenever you wanted your nails painted, a promise you initially rolled your eyes at, but soon enough, you found yourself dialing his number the next time around.

after that evening, painting your nails wasn't just about a pretty set anymore. it meant precious time spent with your boyfriend. it was in these simple acts of love that you found solace in, transforming mundane tasks into cherished memories.

꒰ 🌸 ꒱ — truthfully, you were too intimidated by WOOZI's music ingenuity; that's why it took you so long to admit how it's a lifelong goal of yours to be able to play guitar. actually, you weren't even planning to tell him at all, but you slipped up and accidentally did on one drunken night.

now, here you were in the soft glow of your dimly lit living room, fingers fumbling over the frets and strings of your boyfriend's guitar. you were frankly embarrassed with how little you knew about it — you probably looked more like a toddler learning how to hold a crayon — but woozi's eyes were filled with unwavering patience and determination to help you learn.

he guided your inexperienced fingers to the right positions, his touch reassuring your every move. "you're doing so well," he'd tell you. it was a soft but sure reminder that he will be with you through every chord and unpolished strum.

꒰ 🌸 ꒱ — as you were grabbing a drink from the fridge, a metaphorical lightbulb appeared on your head. "love," you called out. "how many chickens do you think it would take to bring you down?"

DOKYEOM paused the TV show he was engrossed in, pondering your question. it was like you could almost see the gears turning in his head. after a brief moment, he responded with a smile, "honestly, just five, i think."

"seriously, just five?"

"love, have you seen how aggressive they can get? they're seriously scary," he shuddered at the mere thought of being chased around by chickens.

with a chuckle, you walked over to join him on the couch. he had a delighted look on his face. he loved your questions, and you cherished his willingness to engage with them; whether they were as lighthearted as, "would you rather shoot water from your armpits or fire from your butt?" or as profound as, "where would you be right now if nothing else mattered?"

seokmin's thoughtfulness came naturally to him, further proof to his genuine and kind-hearted nature. it was just one of the many reasons you loved him so much.

꒰ 🌸 ꒱ — a thing about SEUNGKWAN is that he's always armed with a colorful assortment of band-aids, each of varying sizes. he insists that he had learned to come prepared because of your perpetual clumsiness, often with a shake of his head while muttering, "you should really be more careful." but the whole truth is that he absolutely adores taking care of you; his teasing complains were merely a cover for the affection he feels.

you didn't even realize how often it happened, but tender moments like that had become a treasured routine for the both of you. from having a pink band-aid for a paper cut on your index finger to a star-shaped oversized bandage when you scraped your knee, seungkwan was always ready to swoop in and make you feel better.

in those band-aids, you had found a unique love language; one that combines nurturing and steadfast attentiveness — a love you hold very close to your heart.

svt masterlist | navigation ── reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated !

© 2023 PEARLESSCENTT. please do not steal my works.

[coriannawrites]

Brothers Who Tease Their Lovesick Siblings

—————————————

Asmo and Mammon propaganda

————————————————————————-

Warning: an unfinished, unpolished idea but

Imagine the demon brothers ribbing each other if they find out a brother likes MC

Picture Asmo and Mammon. Asmodeus wants to give Mammon a little push to confessing to MC. Even if Mammon won’t admit it, Asmo can feel it— and see it, you’d have to be blind to not notice how Mammon swoons after MC or tries to look cool in front of them.

From all their late night gossip sessions, where Mammon keeps mentioning suspiciously detailed hypotheticals involving what MC looks for in a date, Asmo knows he has to step in. If he doesn’t, MC and Mammon will be recreating a “one who got away montage”.

————————————————————————

“Love?! You think I'm in love?" Mammon throws his head back and laughs, flushing from the neck down.

Asmodeus raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow, hyperfocusing on filing his nails.

“Sure Mammon, you aren’t in love. You just want to kiss them so bad–”

“No. I. Don’t!” Mammon squawks, slamming his hands on the table. He’s like a bird puffing up his feathers, preening awkwardly as he refuses to make eye-contact.when Asmo tsks.

Asmo tsks, Mammon is so obviously in denial it’s a bit hilarious. “Oh… Really? You wouldn't mind if I kissed them, now would you Mammon?”

Asmo makes a show of standing up, devilish grin appearing on his face. “I should do that. Right now, actually.”

[haunting-venus]

green with desire ↳ rafael barba x fem!reader

content warnings | smut ( minors dni ), canonical svu violence, jealousy, feelings of inadequacy/anxiety ( so, light angst ), dirty talk, fem!dom if you squint really hard, some begging

word count: 6241

Of all of the terrible ideas you’d had in your life, debating punching a police officer in a crowded bar was definitely top three on the list. Your rational mind knew that it would end with split knuckles and an assault charge, while the emotional side of your brain told you to throw rationale to the wind and throw your knuckles across that brown-haired bitch’s temple.

You tried to focus your gaze on anything but the woman inciting your rage, your nails biting into your thigh. Soft light flickered off of the vintage art prints hanging on the wall, reflecting the black-and-white images of famous figures in the history of New York. Pop music sounded against the walls, just loud enough that you could feel the bump in the music at the bottom of your chest. The venue was moderately sized but felt claustrophobic with the amount of casually dressed NYPD officers that teemed at all corners, sipping a variety of beers and leaning against the polished mahogany countertop of the bar.

Leaning against that mahogany bar was a tall, slender woman with tumbling brown hair and doe eyes squinted in delight at the man in front of her. A manicured, unpolished finger circled the rim of her mojito while her other hand rested closer and closer to the man’s rested elbow. Below her fitted purple top rested a gleaming gold badge, saddled on a shapely hip. Her teeth glinted just as brightly as her badge when she giggled, lightly swatting the man’s arm. None of this would necessarily be a problem, if the man the officer was inching towards was not your boyfriend.

Instead of letting your fist connect where it was itching to, your grip tightened on your margarita glass and took a heavy gulp of the sour drink. You were a guest at an unofficial NYPD get-together, surrounded by acquaintances celebrating the recent closing of a corruption case in tandem with an officer’s birthday. Somewhere in the crowd, Detective Sonny Carisi strolled with a beer in his hand and a ‘Happy Birthday Big Boy’ pin gleaming on his breast. Tensions had run so high within the precinct the last few weeks that the need to let loose was nearly oozing off of every civil servant in the bar. The last thing anyone here needed was a librarian they barely knew from Queens assaulting a police officer and disrupting a perfectly civil get-together.

You’d met Rafael Barba while waiting in a ridiculously long line for the new coffee shop that opened down the street from the library you worked at. Caught in your own world listening to a podcast, eyes downcast to adjust a seam on your cable-knit sweater, you had collided head on with the rushing attorney resulting in black coffee tipping onto each of you. The pale blue shirt under his pin-checked brown vest and jacket had suffered the most, thoroughly drenched in hot coffee with a mottled brown stain right across his chest. You’d made a horrified, choked noise and tried to apologize as you rushed across the room in search of napkins, mumbling apologies as you dabbed at his wet suit in vain.

His annoyed gaze had softened slightly as he watched you flit around the shop with pink cheeks and wild eyes, completely ignoring the mess on your own shirt in favor of making amends to a complete stranger. He had eventually chuckled, pushing your hand away from his chest and declaring the suit a lost cause. You’d finally been able to get a good luck at him as you lowered your hands, trying to reassemble some sense of pride as the patrons of the shop gazed after your neurotic display. He was hispanic, not too tall but with broad shoulders outlined pristinely by his tailored jacket, brown hair coiffed and barely out of place even with all of your fretting. His green eyes shone with a hint of amusement even behind his mostly serious expression.

You had insisted on paying for the dry-cleaning of his suit, to which he brushed off the offer with a chuckle, promising that no grudges would be held in exchange for a new cup of coffee. He had been intrigued with your kindhearted (if strange) behavior and the way your cheeks flushed cutely when he smiled at you, prompting him to ask if you’d have time to meet for a real sit-down coffee the following week. You’d been delighted and tense at once, not one to go out on a limb with strangers, especially such handsome and well-spoken ones.

When you had met Rafael for coffee the following Thursday, the two of you had thankfully been able to avoid spilling your drinks on one another, to which Rafael had given a quick joke about in order to break the ice. You’d found yourself easily falling into conversation with Rafael, who you had learned was a prosecutor that worked nearby for the District Attorney’s office. Your nerves were quickly comforted by his easy ability to joke and his unhidden interest in getting to know you, his soft green eyes never leaving your smiling face. It didn’t take long to discover that you shared a love for historical fiction literature and high-end coffee, and you had ended the lunch with entwined fingers as he walked you to the large double doors of the library you worked at.

A few lunches quickly turned into dinners on the rare nights when Rafael was able to escape his office, where he showered you with compliments and wine expensive enough that it made you nervous to drink it. You’d quickly become accustomed to the strong feel of his hands gripping your waist as he kissed you in the entrance of his oak-furnished apartment entryway, heat rushing through your veins at the heated whispers he hissed into your neck. You treasured the quiet mornings in his kitchen almost more than the extravagant dinners. Scrambled eggs and espresso in his brightly-lit kitchen overlooking the city, his hair soft and unstyled as he swayed with you on the tile floor, that peek into this more relaxed version of your usually nothing-less-than-proper partner felt more precious than gold.

You’d never been the type of person that flaunted their relationship, especially since Rafael was such a prominent figure in the New York legal system. There was a prickling fear in the early days of your relationship that you were too plain to publicly be seen with a man associated with such prestige and power, that you would look like nothing more than a sweater-clad bookworm feigning at being worthy of a man much above her standing. When Rafael had discovered this, he’d been quick to quiet your concerns with his fingers in your hair and his head between your legs until you could think of nothing else.

After his many reassurances that he would love to show you off at any time possible, including to his coworkers, you’d become more self-confident. You’d begun to surprise Rafael at work with bagel sandwiches from an artisan bakery in between your workplaces, toting coffee and paper bags through the looming hallways of Hogan Place and barely paying attention to those who spared you a second glance for planting a kiss on the primly dressed ADA. Soon afterward, you had joined the squad of the Special Victims Unit and Rafael for the celebration of the conviction of a serial rapist. You were proud of the progress you had made with Rafael’s coworkers, forming timid friendships with the detectives that he worked so closely with on a daily basis. You were glad that you’d gained enough confidence to hold your own without using Rafael as a fallback in social situations with his coworkers, but it all felt bittersweet now that he’d been approached by another woman as soon as you had gone to chat with Detective Rollins with celebratory tequila shots.

You had gathered vaguely from Amanda that the brunette ogling your boyfriend at the bar was a recent witness in a major police corruption case that Rafael had been handling, Detective Sandra Allen from the Narcotics division. She was a hero and a villain at the same time in the eyes of her fellow cops; a snitch who ratted on her fellow officers who were spending their county-paid salary hours manipulating prostitutes into sexual favors in exchange for staying out of prison. The case made you sick, and the fact that you could feel nothing but disdain for this woman who bravely stood up and testified on behalf of those sex workers made shame burn deep in your stomach.

You didn’t need to be a police officer to notice Amanda’s sly looks between you and the scene going on at the bar, or that she was trying to hold back her laughter from the growing redness in your face that you tried to blame on the alcohol. You had hardly been listening to Fin’s rambling story about how his grandson had been inexplicably angry at the balloons he’s seen in the park because they would not stop floating, no matter how much he asked. On any other day, you would have loved to look at Fin half-drunkenly showing off his adorable lump of a grandson with a grinning smile. Right now, though, you could only hear the deep cadence of Rafael’s laugh as he finished off his scotch, and only see Detective Allen’s beautiful and flirtatious smile directed toward the man you had spent the last several months building a life with.

You were worried that the glass in your hand would shatter under your grip as you set it forcefully on the table. You knew there was no reason for you to be acting this way, feeling so scorned and bubbling with jealousy over the easy way that Allen fawned over your partner. You knew more than anyone the easy charm that Rafael brought to conversations, even when he was being a sarcastic bastard. You knew you weren’t the only woman who admired his passion and his good-looks, but having it shoved in your face like this felt much worse than just knowing it in the back of your mind.

Amanda’s mischievous expression quickly morphed to shielded concern when she noticed just how much you were bothered by the scene in front of you. Her demeanor took on the protective edge that came so easily to all the detectives you had met at the SVU, poised to talk someone down or to throw an elbow into someone’s teeth. “Hey, you want me to go do some crowd control over at the bar? I’m sure the Counselor is just waiting for the best opportunity to get out of there.”

You knew that you should just go over there and put a stop to it. You wanted so badly to have the conviction to strut over to Rafael, straddle his lap and make him moan in front of that woman, to show her just how he crumbled under your touch, how you were the one to bring him to his knees, to receive his hardships and his worship, not her. That display of power, of claim over a man that so many people wanted, would no doubt make her back off. But that wasn’t who you were. You were not the sultry-smiled woman who captured the eyes of every room she walked into, the one who could bite at a woman to back off of what was hers. So, instead, you threw back the rest of your drink, taking a moment to relish in the burn of tequila and the acidity of the lime that buzzed through your veins, and sent a tight-lipped smile to Amanda and Fin.

“I think I’m actually gonna turn in for the night. Too much tequila makes me stupid, you know.” You gave an unconvincing chuckle as you set some bills on the table to cover your drinks and a tip. Amanda opened her mouth to protest, hoping to keep you from leaving, but you were already pulling your peacoat onto your shoulders.

You had only gotten halfway down the street, heaving heavy breaths to lighten your heart rate and the burn behind your eyes, when Rafael called out your name from the direction of the bar. The street was relatively quiet for a Wednesday night, with only a few stragglers walking between the handful of establishments on the block. You steadied your expression before turning on your heel towards him with a shaky smile.

He stepped toward you with a soft look so often reserved only for you, his brows furrowed in slight worry. His black trenchcoat fell beautifully against his broad chest, green eyes accented by the specks of emerald in his patterned tie. Even after months, you still felt yourself melt a little at the kindness behind his eyes. “You ran out so quickly with no goodbye, is everything alright?”

“I’m just tired, and you seemed like you were having a good time talking to Detective Allan. Didn’t want to take you away from the fun.”

His eyebrows rose in question at the unexpected bite in your tone. You had tried to hide your rising feelings with the shit poor excuse, but Rafael hadn’t become a successful ADA by not being able to read people. It was one of the things you loved and hated about him, how he could peel back the layers of what you were feeling to gaze at the very core of you. It made you feel cared for and probed at the same time.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I was only being cordial with a witness who put a lot on the line to testify in our case.” He stepped into your space, running a thumb across your cold and flushed cheeks. His voice was steady, his eyes honest but confused. You scoffed lightly, still feeling your anger simmering but being calmed by his steadying touch. His hand dropped from your cheek at your exclamation, steadying a solid look at you. “Look, you know I am not exactly the DA’s office favorite person, much less the police department. She was worried about how her colleagues were going to see her, she wanted advice on how to deal with interoffice conflict.”

“Oh, don’t pull that. The only thing she was worried about was how quickly she could get your hands up her skirt.” The words burned your throat, emerging into the air before you could stop yourself. You knew Rafael wasn’t a stupid man, and you didn’t want him to treat you like you were either.

“Excuse me?” Rafael’s eyes hardened, a muscle in his jaw twitching as you took a step back from him. Your outburst had gained the attention of a passerby who gave the two of you a quick once over, and it only stoked your anger and shame. Rafael guided you with the motion of his hand towards the side of the sidewalk. “Look, I didn’t mean to abandon you, I’m sorry. I was only being polite to a woman who is going through what might be the worst time of her life. She needed someone to reassure her, to ask about her options-”

“So she had to wait until your girlfriend left to ask you about all of that? I’m not naive, you know. I see how women look at you, the looks they have when they realize you’re with me, like you’re settling for something that’s so beneath you. That they could give you something hotter, younger-”

“Stop! Just stop!” He ran a hand across his face, his expression softening as he saw the hurt on your face, the insecurity he thought the two of you had quelled long ago. “We’ve talked about this, I thought we had dealt with this. You are the only one I want to be with. The only one that I want to see in my bed in the mornings or bringing me coffee for lunch or watching tv in my old t-shirts. It’s only you.”

Shame and anxiety still burned deep in your blood as you felt burning behind your eyes. The anger had fizzled like a campfire under rain, replaced with humiliation settling deep into your stomach. A few tears wet the side of your face, and you avoided what you hoped wasn’t pity on Rafael’s face. “I’m sorry, I know that. I just- I just lost my temper and-”

“Look, I only want you. I want you to know that I only want you.” He brushed away the wetness from your cheekbone with a reassuring smile. He pressed a fleeting kiss to the side of your head as he pulled you into his chest, stroking a heavy hand between your shoulder blades. His woody cologne mingled with the salt of your tears, wrapping around you in comfort.“Let’s take a cab, forget about this bar. If you’re still doubting the way I feel about you, I clearly didn’t get my point across last time.”

You pulled back with a surprised laugh, tightening your grip on the sides of Rafael’s neck. A new heat flushed to your face with the intrigue in Rafael’s eyes, your ego stoked that he still found you desirable in the messy state that you were in. You leaned up, capturing his lips in an impassioned kiss, letting the feel of his stubble and the grip of his fingers wash over you like a wave. A shiver ran through your limbs to your fingertips, goosebumps rising as you felt the edge of his teeth against your lips. A heated gasp went through you as your back hit the nearby wall, feeling the solid line of Rafael’s body slot between your legs and against your chest. 

“Let me bring you home, show you exactly how much I want you. Please, hermosa, let me.” His voice was thick and had an edge of desperation that shot heat through your entire body, igniting every edge of your nerves with the brush of his lips to your neck.The lick of power that ran through you at having this man, so powerful and beautiful and respected, begging for the opportunity to bed you sent you reeling. With a nod, you pulled Rafael to the edge of the sidewalk to hail a cab, his hand gripping your waist.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’d spent the majority of the cab ride from the bar stroking your thumb on the inside of Rafael’s knee, taking long moments to let your eyes linger on the clenching of his strong hands, the swell of his powerful chest beneath his vest, the slow darkening of his eyes with arousal as you raked your eyes over him. In the elevator ride up to your loft, his fingers trailed teasingly along the bottom of your sweater, sneaking underneath to rub at the skin of your hip with fleeting touches that ran heat up your spine and between your legs. You felt yourself wanting to push him back against the mirrored wall of the elevator, to go down to your knees and to hear your name echoing from his lips as you sucked him, but kept your face falsely neutral. This was part of the game, of him letting you know how much he wanted you, how he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. You felt your face flush with the intimacy of the touches, his eyes glinting at your suppressed smile.

By the time you’d reached the entrance of your studio apartment, the buzz of your earlier tequila drinks had worn off in favor of the thrill of Rafael’s touch skating up under your shirt, fingers trailing beneath your clothed breast. As quickly as your jacket slid to the floor, your back was pressed solidly against the entryway wall, your hair pushed to the side to let your boyfriend suck slow kisses into the column of your throat. The nick of his teeth against the cord of your throat let a soft sound rise from your chest, your head falling back to knock against the wall.

Stepping away to remove his trenchcoat, Rafael took a brief moment to admire your panting frame, your cheeks flushed high with want and warmth. His tone was breathy, but serious as he hung up his jacket and vest.“You’re sure that you’re in the mood? I can always bring out some wine, put on that Bermuda Triangle documentary you’ve been wanting to watch.”

His words were sweet, but you could still see the heat burning in his eyes, even as he stood carefully away from you as he awaited your answer. You smiled as you stepped forward, fingers stroking the bulge in his black trousers, a rush of confidence coming from the deep groan he let into the air. “As lovely as that sounds, I think I’ll save that for after I ride you until the neighbors complain about the noise.”

“Your noises or mine, cariño?” He taunted as he pulled your sweater over your head, his hands finding your breasts with a delicate squeeze as you pulled him by the tie towards your bed in the further corner of your studio. His thumbs rubbed against the ridge of your nipple through the thin bra, your bitten lip barely containing your groan. His lips found yours again quickly, swallowing up the breathy noises you made.

“Why don’t we see who makes them come knocking first?” You grinned as pulled firmly at the back of his hair, letting a groan rumble against the seam of your lips. A swell of pride rose in your chest as you pushed Rafael back against the mattress, making quick work of his buttons as you let your ass fall firmly onto the bulge in his pants. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, his fingers indenting your pants with their firm hold. He brought his left hand between your thighs, letting his thumb rub idly against you through your pants as your movements on his buttons stuttered. 

You steadied yourself against Rafael with a hand on his shoulder, rushing to remove your bra with the other hand to feel your skin against him. Your fingers stuttered over the clasp repeatedly, your head falling back at the pleasure that pooled between your legs. An easy smirk graced his handsome features at the stuttered breath you let in at the work of his fingers, sitting up at the waist to pull your breasts against his chest and rub between your legs more firmly. “Getting distracted over there, hermosa?”

The pet name brought a groan from your throat, wetness pooling in your cunt from his deep voice laced with arousal. Rafael’s pressed white button-up hung loosely off his shoulders, and you pushed the rest off with a renewed need to get your hands on his bare chest. His tan skin stretched over a strong chest and corded shoulders that held you firmly, dark chest hair brushed across your skin. You ran your hands down his pecs to run your nails across his stomach near the buckle of his belt, relishing in the shiver that ran through him.

Your tongue licked into his mouth with a moan, bringing one hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers through his salt and peppered hair while your hips moved against his covered cock. The hand over your pants faltered as he pulled away from your kiss, letting you get a look at his wide-blown pupils before he took his teeth to your neck with a moan.“Who’s distracted now, huh?”

You rolled to the side to shimmy out of your cotton pants, taking care to stretch your back to give Rafael a view of the curve of your ass as you turned. He pulled himself to the head of the bed, one hand stroking firmly against his hard cock over his trousers while he held the other near his kiss-swollen mouth. You felt a pang of wetness between your thighs at his lidded gaze, his eyes following each curve of your body like it was a melody he yearned to play. You leaned forward toward Rafael, your hair tumbling over the swell of your breasts as you climbed on top of him. His hands quickly moved back to slide along your body, one pinching your nipple while the other slid underneath the purple lace between your legs, dipping his fingers into the wetness there.

Rafael groaned as you ground your cunt against his hand, letting you seek your pleasure from his steady hand. The hand at your breast lowered to unbutton his trousers, his cock peeking from the edges of his dark briefs. “God, cariño, you're always so wet for me. You like my fingers on you?”

You stuttered out a breath as Rafael’s fingers dipped inside you, the palm of his hand rubbing gently against your clit as he stroked inside of you. The rolling pleasure from both areas of contact had sweat building on your chest, a moan coming high in your throat when you tried to answer. “F-fuck, yes, Raf, just like that. God…so good.”

Your breathy words spurred him on, adding another finger to your pussy. You gathered some composure, gripping your nails into Rafael’s shoulder with pleasure while your other hand went to stroke his thick cock. His rewarding moan was well worth the effort it took to keep a clear head as his fingers massaged inside you, bringing you rapidly to a crest of rising pleasure. Your legs shook even as you brought your hand up in a stroke, tightening your grip around the head in the way you knew made his eyes roll back. Precum dripped from the tip of his cock, slicking the way for your fingers to work faster, to make him feel as good as he was making you feel.

“Fuck, if you keep doing that, I’ll be gone before I even get to fuck you.”

He groaned out your name as he flipped you onto your back, moving your hand from his cock as he moved his thumb to rub firm circles against your clit.You threw your head back in pleasure from his show of strength, his forearms and biceps flexing enticingly each time he drove his fingers into you. The fingers of Rafael’s other hand gripped your ass, bringing your hips up to his hand as he kissed his way down your neck and breasts. He murmured praises of ‘beautiful’ and ‘mine’ that made your blood soar, pleasure cresting low in your stomach as your breath quickened. Your moans pitched, your nails digging into Rafael’s shoulder letting him know you were close. He breathed out a few words of Spanish, letting his teeth sink hard into the junction of your neck as you reached your high. His name slipped loudly from your lips before you bit down on your lip, shaking in his arms as he continued to stroke you through your orgasm.

Your gaze was blurry with pleasurable tears when you faced Rafael, bringing his lips to yours in a messy kiss before sneaking off to the washroom for a glass of water. When you re-emerged from the bathroom with a half-drunk glass of water, Rafael was on his back with a hand wrapped lazily around himself, his cock jumping when he caught sight of your flushed face and the growing bruise on your neck. You crawled atop your boyfriend, letting the wetness of your release drag teasingly over the length of his cock. Rafael’s hair was tousled, strands hanging enticingly in front of his eyes as he gazed hungrily at your body. He looked delectable, sweat edging along the edges of his brow and his cock glistening when it peaked above his fingers. He looked at you like a parched man drinking in the sight of an oasis, like you were anything and everything he needed at that moment. You wanted to see just how far he would go to have you.

Testing your luck, you edged your fingers along the edges of Rafael’s arms, guiding them above his head. His eyes were curious as he followed your lead, raising his muscled arms above his head for you to wrap a hand around his wrists. The muscles in his shoulders flexed as he readjusted himself as he raised a teasing eyebrow at you “Want to have me at your mercy, hermosa?”

What had started as a fleeting idea now struck a new wave of arousal over you as you gazed down at the powerful man underneath you, his eyes soft and filled with hot desire. God, he was everything you’d ever wanted presented beautifully between your legs, gazing at you like he wanted to devour you. An idea picked at the corner of your mind, sending a coy smile across your face as you draped your body over Rafael’s chest.

“Tell me.” Rafael looked at you with confusion now, readjusting his hands above his head. His tongue came out to wet his lips. He was usually the one making demands in bed, bending you to his will for both your pleasure. You felt it might be time to turn the tables.  “Keep your hands there, and tell me you want to fuck me, only me.”

Your words were shakier than you’d wanted them to be, revealing your anxieties about taking control in this way for the first time. However, Rafael quickly relaxed under your touch, a new degree of interest entering his gaze at this undiscovered side of you. He looked you in the eyes as he groaned what you had asked. “God, I want to fuck you, more than anything.” 

“I think you can do better than that.” You teased, licking a long stripe along the side of his neck up to his ear. The words felt foreign in your mouth, but you were encouraged by the twitch of his cock against you as he gasped lightly. He looked up at you with a playful glimmer in his eye, a little smirk playing on his lips.

“Are you asking me to beg?”

The words sent a blazing heat to your cunt, swallowing heavily at his words. Rafael’s eyes lit up in a similar way as when he was cross-examining someone in court, when they gave him the inch of leverage that he could stretch a mile. The proud look he got when he had someone exactly where he wanted them.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you cariño. Me, begging for your pussy like it’s the only thing I’ve ever needed in my life.” it was a statement more than a question, and fuck, the confidence he exuded even when he was under you like this had your head spinning with heady arousal. His words rumbled in your chest, urging another movement of your hips against his cock.

“Only if you want your cock inside me at any point tonight.” The words sounded hollow in your throat, undermined by the breathiness of your voice, you pressed against him again to quell off any embarrassment you felt. He grinned like he knew exactly what his words were doing to you, but let himself play the role you’d assigned him for now. If part of you wanted to try something, all of him wanted to comply, to fulfill your every desire.

“God, you look so beautiful like this. Please, please let me inside you. Let me get you off how I know you like hermosa. Please.” Even though you had a feeling he intentionally raised the whininess in his voice, the breathy tones still sent pangs of pleasure to your cunt. You gasped as the words left his mouth, pressing a desperate kiss to Rafael’s lips as you lined up his cock.

Your eyes slipped shut as you eased onto Rafael’s cock, the ridges of the head stroking the sweetest places inside of you that caused stuttered moans to fall from your lips. You ran the flat of your palm up Rafael’s chest, cupping the side of his cheek as you drove his cock into you. Rafael cursed as you seated yourself on his lap, your head thrown back in ecstasy at being filled, at being fucked. His hands shook above his head with the desire to touch you. He keened as you shifted his full length inside you, circling your hips to adjust to him.

You looked down at him between your thighs, flushed high on his cheeks with nothing capturing his attention but your body moving above him on his cock. Each swivel of your hips pushed his cock firmly into that spot that made you see stars and pushed deep, moaning praises from his throat. You reveled in the fact that no one else could see him like this, could make him moan and beg under them like this.

“God, everyone wants you like this and it’s just me that can have you. Just me that makes you feel this good, right baby? They all wish they could have your cock stretching them like this.” You babbled as your thoughts were overwhelmed with pleasure. You knew you sounded half mad, but you were too far gone to notice, relishing in the pleasure deep in your cunt.

“Fuck!” Rafael, moaned your name, finally moving his hands from above his head to bruisingly grab your hips. He raised his knees behind your back to gain leverage to roll his hips into you deep and steady, moans stuttering from your throat with every thrust that sent his cock deep inside you.

“So sexy, keep making those pretty noises for me, please.” Rafael’s words were near ravenous and you were glad you weren’t the only one overwhelmed with pleasure, desperately voicing every dirty thought that came to your mind when you looked at the man in front of you. Rafae’s grip along the curve of your waist allowed him to get the leverage to pull you down hard onto his cock 

“Aah, fuck, please, Rafael, I-I’m gonna—d-don’t stop.” You didn’t know if you meant him pulling you down hard onto his cock or the filthy words that sent heat reeling through your body.

“God,” one of Rafael’s hands slid up to grasp your breast tightly, your nipple brushing the calloused skin of his fingers and had fire licking up your spine. His eyes were wild as he drank in the sight of you crying out on his cock, your fingers reaching to circle your clit as he pulled you against him. His tone was pinched and loud, ragged with his heavy breathing.“I want you to come, on my cock, right now. Please, cariño, give it to me.”

“Raf, God, you’re making me-fuck, yes” You felt tears brim the edge of your eyes as your pleasure climbed to something primal, each rub of your clit, every brush of Rafael’s hands against you setting you aflame until you felt yourself collapsing around him with a cry of his name. He slowed, but never stopped, his movements as he rocked you against him through your orgasm, soothing the shivers of your body with his warm hands. You panted as he came down from your second high of the night, your legs shook with the effort to remain upright. 

“God, you’re killing me. Please, let me come inside you, fill you, I need-” you cracked your eyes to capture Rafael’s expression, lips parted around a moan when you moved your hands to grip at his hair. Hardly trusting your words, you nodded in your agreement with a whispered plea to ‘do it, please, come for me’. Rafael’s body went taut for a heartbeat, driving himself hard into a last few times as he came. His eyes clenched shut, his hands gripping your hips as he mumbled out praise.

Catching your breath, you rolled off of the bed to grab a towel, taking a moment to wipe yourself off before jumping back onto the moderately clean sheets, taking a moment to admire your boyfriend in his post-sex haze. This could be one of your favorite versions of Rafael, limbless and content, pressing his lips to the crown of your head as you regained your breath together. You pressed a kiss to his chest as you wrapped your arm around him, whatever insecurities you had been feeling before was long extinguished by the solidness of Rafael underneath you, his ragged breathing and the ache between your legs as proof of your mutual want.

You lay in silence for a few moments, his fingers carding through your hair before he spoke. He pulled his head back to look you in the eyes, stroking a soft hand across the back of your head. “Will you promise me that, next time you are feeling the way you did at the bar, you’ll let me know instead of storming off. That way, we can talk it through and maybe have a repeat of this, instead of you feeling awful because your mind likes to tell you lies.”

You gave a chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth with your smiling lips. “Sounds like we’ve reached a deal, Counselor.”

He let out a rueful groan, pulling you tighter into his chest as you giggled. “Call me that again and I’ll be rescinding my offer.”

“Understood…Counselor.” you whispered, avoiding his playfully stern gaze by heading to the kitchen to get that wine he had promised you.

[batryz]

Self-indulgent Will headcanons

Or

(how i imagine him while reading and sketching) (im bored and miss him) (totally not biased–)

Poofy hair that curls at the tips. Not unlike a cloud.

Thick, bright golden hair that reaches his shoulders that is damn near untameable.

Is a claw clip preacher. Wears it when it gets busy in the infirmary. Otherwise, let's his hair loose. Ties it on special occasions.

Has the sun in his eyes. Literally. Central heterochromia. If it wasn't obvious that he was the son of Apollo already–

Dry and torn lips. Carries lip balm everywhere. (Frequently loses them though so has like 5+ of the same lip balm)

Tan skin, much freckles. Everywhere.

Genetics gave him flawless silky smooth skin.

Unintentional glowing. Doesn't always happen but when it does, it's much more obvious at night. An uncanny glow that brightens or dims depending on his mood.

Does have pierced ears but doesn't wear them often because it's a hazard being in the infirmary so often.

Does have his camp necklace, and Nico's ring chain around his neck. Keeps them under his shirt as much as possible though. Safer and less in the way while working.

Tattoo on the left of his chest. But we all knew that.

A star tattoo somewhere i know it. (Haven't thought of where please help)

Immaculate hand care routine. Not a nail unpolished or chipped. Still has tiny scars though.

His hands are not a hard and rough as most others at camp. His are mostly dry and cracked from over-sanitising.

Canon says he's built like a surfer. But i like to think he's built like a dancer. No, he can't dance to save his life.

Lean, toned and tall. Broad shoulders, slim waist. Amazing legs. (Totally not based on experience)

Has scars here and there. Particularly, a burn scar on one of his foot and a gash further up his other leg. They don't hurt anymore. (Sometimes the memories do, but he's getting better)

Navel piercing.

The most stunning man dressed in the most average outfits. Please don't let him dress himself for an important event. (Unless supervised)

Owns crocs let's be real.

...ok, that's all my brain has for now. In terms of appearances at least. (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

I'll come back to rambling about him next time. Okioki, byebyee!

[froot-batty]

Hark, the Justice League!!!

Forgive the unpolished doodles, I just wanted to nail down the ideas in my head. Things are subject to change if/when I do their full refs

Anyway..........I caved. I know I said that the Justice League wasn't really a thing in my AU, and it still isn't! The Justice League refers to a temporary formation of worldwide heroes to battle against a potentially world-ending threat. Before and after that, they mostly live in their own cities and do their own things. Worldwide threats aren't that common in my AU, so having a permanent League isn't worth the focus they'd have to take away from their homes. Afterwards they all do become somewhat friends, though!

And yeah, I said worldwide heroes. Having all of them be in America is kind of silly in my mind, so they're scattered around the globe. It's part of the reason they never teamed up before it being absolutely necessary

[kccubus]

a super unpolished whitney before i go to sleep <3

plz ignore that the hand holding the bar makes absolutely no sense and that the background itself looks so bad lmfao (legit just blocked the shapes from a pinterest photo 😭), i just saw this pose in the clip studio store thingy and immediatelt thought of making whithey like this skejwkgjeg I DID THIS QUICK IM SORRY

went pretty much full gyaru with her cause i love that style sososo much and feel like it fits her! (also seen many others go for it!!) one of my pcs is also a gyaru but like the complete opposite personality to hers so i'm keeping the rivalry strong lmfao.

i gave her bruised knucles and knees from fighting (mostly lmao) and long nails to stab you with!! also not sure how much you can zoom in before everything starts getting super blurry but i gave her an anti-eyebrow piercing (under her eye) and a nose ring. she'd have a tongue piercing too but it's not showing heh. the dark streak(s?) on her hair is just cause i wanted to spice up her design a bit and felt like that's fit her edgy personality i guess (?? SHE ALSO HAS A HELLO KITTY HAIRTIE i've seen a couple people say they see whit as a sanrio fan and @domomodraws drew that too and i agree so much i couldn't resist :>

i was gonna give her a backpack on the floor beside her too but i forgot shfkdjgj, i'll try to rememer if i ever come back to this!!

[doukeshi-kun]

𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙖.𝙣𝙖𝙡

notes ⨳ hey, this for you, babygirl @queenquixotic 😎✨ also, sorry yall if this is unpolished, im tryna get out of writers block

contents ⨳ n/sfw 18+, a.nal, spanking, cum in ass, fem!reader

You hum in comfort as you feel his large palms kneading and fondling the plump of your ass. His thumb probes your well-lubed asshole and you wince, half in discomfort, half in pleasure. You could hear his soft chuckle before suddenly, a hard impact land on your right ass.

“Ow!” you turn your head around, glaring at Nikolai who is grinning mischievously. He slaps your ass once again, even harder and you whimper when he buries his nails into your skin.

“Gosh, you're just—” another slap, this time his hand firmly cups your ass with his thumb teasing your cunt. “—so fucking adorable.”

You wiggle your hips, urging him to touch you further. Your cunt is wet with your arousal and your asshole is glistened with lube. Nikolai chuckles when he sees you wiggling, holding your hips before he positions himself behind you.

“You ready?” a nod. “If it hurts or uncomfy, what'd you say?”

“Apple.”

“Good girl.” he pats your head and kisses it. Your breathing gets heavier since you have been in this all-fours position for quite a moment. Nikolai traces his hand on your back before he holds you by the back of your neck. He presses you deeper into the mattress as his other hand grips your left hip.

“A-Aah..!” your mouth hangs when he slowly thrusts into your ass. Nikolai groans behind you, muttering curses as he feels your tight ass around his girth. Your legs tremble as you slowly row back to urge him.

“Fuck, baby...” he sighs, leaning forward to kiss your back and your shoulder. He moans shamelessly in your ear, whispering how tight and nice and warm your ass feels to him.

He starts thrusting. You try to raise your upper body to support yourself and thrust back but Nikolai pins you down by your neck, thrusting with a slow pace and it increases each time. You could only moan and whimper against the sheet as the discomfort is soon replaced by pleasure.

“Touch yourself, baby. Your pussy is fucking clenching for nothing,” he mocks as he lets out a breathy laugh, teasing your pussy that has been abandoned for a moment now.

“Hand, dove. Where's your hand?” he asks as he keeps thrusting, taking your hand to touch yourself. You whine and your fingers immediately find your clit, rubbing it fast and the stimulation makes you jolt, almost making his dick slips out.

“Uh-uh, stay.”

Nikolai grabs your hips and pulls you closer. He is in, deep. You could feel his subtle hairs from his pelvis on your ass. The pleasure is getting to your head that your rubbing on your clit is getting sloppier. Nikolai clicks his tongue and wraps his arm around your waist to nudge your clit and finger your cunt.

“O-Oh, God...!” you moan loudly, feeling a small intrusion in your pussy as your ass is still receiving hard thrusts. Your eyes get hazy. His thrusts are getting slower and sloppy but still hard.

“Fuck...” Nikolai leans forward, practically burying his cock as deep as it can go into your ass. He wraps his hand around your neck and turns your head to the side to kiss your lips. Tongues clashing and you feel his cock slightly twitch in you before it spills.

Nikolai's hand lazily still rubbing your cunt before it rests on your belly, pressing it lightly.

You moan against the kiss and Nikolai parts away. Amidst your foggy brain, you could feel his dick pulls out from your ass. He nudges his dick on the hole before slipping it inside a few times. At last, he finally pulls away with a slap on your ass. His cum slithers out of your asshole, dripping to the bed.

Nikolai ignores it and he looks at you. “You okay?” he asks. You nod, adjusting your position so you would lie on your side. Nikolai grins playfully before he puts his hands on your thighs and spread your legs. His action causes you to lie on your back.

“K-Kolya—Aah..!”

A long lick on your pussy is enough to arouse you, drawing more of your juice onto his tongue. Nikolai smirks,

“Look at this cutie.” his fingers part your wet folds. A thin string of juices from your cunt sticks to each of his fingers.

“She is begging me to taste her. A shame if I leave her be, yeah? Now stay still, baby.”

©doukeshi-kun 2023 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

[distort-opia]

I was re-reading REM as per usual and one thing that Joker said in it reminded me of something he said in some other comic and then it pass my mind where it was: tmwsl. like, it was this quote:

"Joker keeps scrutinizing him for a second before answering, corner of his mouth twitching. “That’s a stupid question, Bats,” he says bluntly. “You have a place to rest, don’t you? A Cave and a Cat and a hoard of Robins. You can afford to be tired.”

and this is issue two of tmwsl:

like, the way he have nowhere to go so he can't afford to be tired at all.

everytime I read your fics and I alway end up seeing how much you nailed the characterization so well everytime. It's wonderful :D

You say "re-reading REMS as per usual" so casually... it still amazes me that people go back to my fics this often. Thank you so much for the kind words (and the beautiful art along the way), you've been such a supportive person for a long time and it's heartwarming!!

I do love this. Filing it in my secret "DC hire me" folder. And man, I really need to finish TMWSL, Rosenberg clearly gets Joker much more than other writers... and the fundamental difference between Joker and Batman I was also trying to get at.

Actually, I'll share this one tidbit because you reminded me of it. I've got fragments I ended up not including in REMS, and there's one that's related to the conversation you referenced from chapter 11:

Excuse the very unpolished writing, but yeah... I originally wanted to include Batman (2011) #48 into the discussion Bruce and Joker were having, but it would have derailed things too much. You've unlocked an Easter Egg though, hope you find it interesting <3