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#flash fiction fills
capricornafterdark · 6 months
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8 or 22 w/ fem reader & maybe sub!jason? (cis or trans)
i adore reading your fills <3
Well, I guess we're back to writing novelettes, again. I picked 22 and cisgender Jason, then topped it with some hurt/comfort. Here you go. 😏
Tonight, when Jason crawls in through the window, shaking and several hours early, you know something's off.
You've never seen him fail to stick the landing, before - never seen him rip off his helmet like it's choking him and toss it across the room before he rises on wobbly legs. He mindlessly wrenches armor off himself, eyes are wide and searching, over pink cheeks and parted lips. Green sparks dance in his irises, warning just how tightly wound he is - but when his gaze finds you, it's suddenly just teal and wet. Some of the tension leaves his shoulders, but not his face. He staggers over to you like a marionette with cut strings, one hand braced against the wall to keep him upright.
"Jay, baby - what's going on?" Worried, you frown and move to intercept him before he runs out of empty wall to lean on. Half in your arms, half leaning against the wall between bedroom and den, he closes his eyes, taking deep gulps of air. "Scarecrow toxin…Antidote should kick in…any fuckin' second, now."
Ducking under a heavy arm, you support Jason as best you can until he's close enough to stumble onto the sofa. Letting out an involuntary whine at the space between you two, he quickly clasps your hand in both of his. "Please don't leave me…'least 'til I can breathe again…the things I saw…had to make sure -"
You squeeze in next to him, cradling him against your chest and letting him sob quietly into your oversized t-shirt. "I'm right here, sweetheart. I've got you. Whatever you saw wasn't real, okay?"
You take one of his hands and move his first two fingers to press against the pulse point under your jaw. "Feel that? That's my heartbeat, that's real."
His breath steadies, keeping time with your heart. The shivering and sobbing slowly grind to a halt, even if the tears don't. You gently run your fingers through his hair, murmuring assurances that you're here and he's safe. Over the next fifteen minutes, he starts to relax, sighing into your touch. "Thanks, doll. Sorry to come home like this - just had to make sure you were still here."
You still, stiffening slightly in alarm. "Is there any reason I wouldn't be, babe? It's 11pm on a Sunday and I've got work in the morning…"
The tips of his ears redden and he curls in on himself, mumbling something into your chest. Is he…embarrassed?!
You huff, equal parts worried and exasperated. "Jason Peter Todd, if you're beating yourself up over getting panicky after ingesting a literal fear toxin, I swear to God -"
"Jesus, fuck, okay." He snaps. Groaning, he levers himself into sitting upright, facing you with blazing eyes and a blotchy, tear streaked face. "It's stupid, but I thought you left, alright? I thought you realized that you could do better than some dipshit from Crime Alley who breaks everything he touches!"
You flinch at his tone and he winces, regret lancing through his features. Trying not to tear up all over again, he swallows, lowering his head in his hands. "Goddamn it. 'm sorry. It's not your fault I'm like this. I just…part of me was fuckin' heartbroken, but part of was happy for you, hoped you'd found someone who's nighttime hobby doesn't get you shot at."
Knowing what he needs, you set your jaw, gently cupping his face. "Jay, baby, I need you to look at me. Can you do that?"
Nodding, he bites back a whimper and complies, dropping his hands to his lap. Sea-green eyes submissively meet your own through thick lashes.
 "Yes, ma'am."
"I need you to listen really well, okay? You aren't a dipshit, you're my most prized possession, and I won't hear you slander my property like that. Is that clear?" You thumb a teardrop from his cheek, your firm tone contrasting the warmth in your eyes.
He hesitates, letting out a choked whine as he blushes. You raise an eyebrow. "Do I have to repeat myself, baby?"
"No, ma'am. 'm sorry. You were clear." Jason's voice is small, and timid, close to a mewl. He glances down at his hands and bites his lip before meeting your gaze again. "Ma'am, can you…can I ask something?"
You soften, kissing him sweet and slow before responding. "Anything, sweetheart. You may not get it, but you can always ask."
"Want you to mark me, ma'am…mark me so everyone knows who I belong to. Please?"
You feel a feral grin spread across your face as he whines. "Well, in that case, what my Jaybird wants, he gets."
One hand fists in his hair, dragging his head to the side so you can bite into the hollow at the base of his neck. He goes limp and whimpers, stuttering out, "Oh, fuck, yes, thank you ma'am."
You purr against his skin, releasing it so you can slide onto his lap, legs straddling him so he can feel just how goddamn wet you are. He moans, but keeps his hands to himself by white-knuckling the couch cushion below him.
"That's my good boy," you say in a husky voice, grinding your warm, dripping pussy against the bulge in his leggings. He looks up at you, pupils blown wide.
"All yours, only yours." He pants, raising his hands but stopping short of touching you. "Please, ma'am, I…"
"You what, Jay? Speak up." You smirk, eyes twinkling.
He huffs impatiently, almost pouting. "Please, I wanna' make you come…"
Giggling, you grab his hands and move them to grip your thighs. Flicking your eyes to the side, you retort, "Well, baby, the bed's that way. Why don't you take me there and show me how good a boy you can be?"
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matchingbatbites · 1 year
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“What, am I not allowed to look at you?”
For the prompts?
It's one of those rare mornings where they have nothing to do and nowhere to be. Steve woke up over twenty minutes ago, and where normally he would be up and about already, making coffee or throwing something together for breakfast, today he lounges.
Eddie is still asleep, stretched out on his stomach with his face turned towards Steve. He always looks so soft when he sleeps, all of his excitable energy laid dormant, his features smooth and careless.
Steve's been watching him for a while now, has raked his eyes over bare shoulders and traced the curve of Eddie's back, traced his lips and the way his lashes fan over his cheeks.
It's a rare opportunity he has, getting to observe his boyfriend without him bouncing off the walls, and he intends to spend as long as he can doing just that.
"You're starting to creep me out, Harrington."
Eddie's voice is rough from sleep, and Steve huffs a laugh as his boyfriend cracks an eye open.
"What, am I not allowed to look at you?"
"Watching people while they sleep tends to be reserved for stalkers and serial killers, babe."
Steve grins and moves closer, draping his arm across Eddie's shoulders and bumping their noses together gently.
"Oh? What about people who have super hot boyfriends?"
A soft hum.
"I guess we can make an exception, if this guy is as hot as you say he is."
"Oh, he definitely is. Even with morning breath."
Eddie grins before blowing air directly into Steve's face, and the younger rolls his eyes as he closes the distance between them to press a brief kiss to Eddie's mouth.
"Coffee?"
"Fuck yes."
Send me a prompt!
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blackrosesandwhump · 10 days
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A Punishment Most Vile
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A Month of Whump: Impalement
March of Pain 2024: Miserable
BTHB: Slammed into a Wall
Fandom: Original work
Synopsis: The servant boy of an evil magician finds himself in deep trouble and suffers the painful consequences.
CW: torture, magic whump, punishment, impalement
The magician’s workshop smelled of stale magic, pungent and fermented-sweet and unsettling. The orphan boy held his breath as he straightened a stack of ancient books covered in thick blue dust. Given the kind of magic experiments the magician conducted, that dust could be anything. The powdered skin of some strange creature, or maybe the remnants of an experiment gone wrong. The orphan boy didn’t want to find out.
He shouldn’t have to find out, he thought, turning from the books to the puddle of murky, foul-smelling liquid pooled in the back corner. He was eighteen. He should be learning alongside the magician, helping him with his work rather than cleaning up his messes like some dumb servant. Helping him, rather than suffering the punishments brought on by his anger.
You are a servant, though, came the little annoying voice in his head. That’s all you are.
And as usual, he argued back.
No, no, I’m not!
You’ll never amount to anything, will you? You know that.
Just watch! I’ll prove you—
“Are you quite finished?” said the magician from the door. The orphan boy jumped and almost slipped in the murky pool.
“Almost, sir,” he mumbled. “There was a lot of mess to clean up.”
“Is that a criticism?” said the magician.
“No, sir.” The boy turned away, hiding his smirk.
But the magician saw it anyway. His gloved hand shot out and seized the boy’s throat, lifting him just barely off the ground, so that his toes dragged across the grimy stone. The boy choked and spluttered, scrabbling at the powerful hand around his neck.
“I would expect,” said the magician, in a voice dangerously low and cool, “that you would know your place by now. But I see you still need to learn.”
Calmly, as if tossing aside a piece of trash, the magician threw the boy across the room. He slammed into the stone wall and crumpled, whimpering, in a heap.
Just a servant. Nothing but a servant. Nothing but a—
“On your feet! Stand up!”
The boy stood, shaking, knowing what was about to happen. Another punishment. And all because of his stupid mouth and his stupid thoughts.
There was a flash of magic; something hit his chest hard, driving him up the wall with its force. He stuck there, feet dangling off the ground, unable to move. The magician muttered an unintelligible word. The pressure in the boy’s chest magnified to an intense pain, radiating through his pinioned body. He clenched his teeth against it, willing himself not to scream, not to betray his agony and satisfy the magician’s whim.
“You will remain there until you learn what I’ve tried to teach you,” the magician ordered, turning on his heel.
His back was turned.
The boy looked down.
A glowing shaft, oily black despite its underlying green hue, protruded from the left side of his chest. Tendrils of dark magic trailed from its end, smoky and foul.
The boy dropped his head back, squeezing his eyes shut against the shattering pain, against the pulse of his own failure in his impaled heart.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let you die. That would defeat the purpose of this lesson, after all.” With that, the magician left, and the boy hung alone in his punishment, with only his own tormented thoughts for company.
@marchofpain @amonthofwhump @badthingshappenbingo
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watercolorfreckles · 1 year
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All the Time in the World
Prompt by @promptspa goes until where my banner starts! Thanks for the great prompt :)
"What do you want this time, Supervillain?" Deity sighs, swirling the wine around in their glass with gentle movements of their wrist. They were draped elegantly over the white marble of their throne, robes flowing around them.
"Am I not able to worship you anymore, my dearest god(dess)?" The master criminal replies, their serpentine gaze trailing over the ethereal being in front of them. They suppressed a shiver at the sudden burst of power from Deity's direction as they spoke, reminding them of just how easily they could crush Supervillain like a bug under their heel.
"The last time you made that excuse to see me," The pause between Deity's words made them ring even more threatening in Supervillain's ears as they stood, taking their time to reach the bottom of the marble steps. "You had stolen from me."
"I care not for the gold and the amulet and the priceless magic relics that you thought you had smuggled flawlessly," The deity continued, their power increasing tenfold as they took Supervillain by the chin, pulling them forward. "But my heart? That is something no mortal should have."
"Then perhaps you should make me immortal."
Deity blinked at Supervillain's words, slowly scanning the scalding heat within their eyes. The flame they had wished to distinguish so many years ago remained, burning bright with challenge more than ever.
They scoffed, dropping Supervillain's chin from their hand and instead turning with a flourish to stalk up back to their pedastal.
"Convince me. Tell me why I should give such a prideful, dangerous and selfish being the chance to die over and over again without consequence."
"Because you love me, that's why. You would hate to see the moment I finally meet my end... Wouldn't you?"
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Villain followed Deity up the marble stairs, leisurely, as if he weren't treading on sacred ground. On her domain.
Deity rounded on him when they reached the top, their faces mere inches from eachother.
Villain grinned at her, awaiting her answer with hands clasped behind his back, a mockery of politeness.
Deity's gaze flicked over him. "If I let you die, it would be what you deserve."
"You'd be willing to lose me forever just to punish me for stealing your heart?" Villain clicked his tongue, reaching out, brazen, to trace a finger against the shimmering skin of her collarbone. "That sounds more like a punishment against yourself."
Deity's eyes sparked gold, the air in the temple swelling thick with power. She watched Villain's breath hitch. "You are too bold."
Villain stepped closer yet, though the effort it took to oppose the barest fraction of Deity's power felt like wading through mud.
She could obliterate him in a single breath.
He plucked the wine glass from her fingers and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of the dazzlingly heady drink before tossing it aside with the crackle of broken glass. "That is why you love me so, my goddess."
He reached out and tapped, idly, at the dagger glittering in its sheath at the deity's waist.
Deity's head tilted. Something similar to a curious bird taking idle interest in an ant.
That was how it had started, anyway. Amusement, curiosity, that led her to let the thief live the first time and the next. The other mortals showered her altar with fruit and gifts before skittering away. The first time Villain entered her temple, he strode up to the goddess where she sat upon her throne. He kissed her fingers and knelt at her feet.
"You want me to grant you favor, that is the only reason you call upon me day by day."
"Isn't that all anyone does when they pray?" Villain replied.
Deity's calm cracked, fingers seizing Villain's jaw again. Her power hummed against his bones, the pressure threatening to crush him. The room lit up gold, glowing tendrils surrounding the goddess and her thief.
Deity's eyes narrowed, predatory and far from human. "You are not just 'anyone'."
"Oh, baby," Villain smiled and leaned in, lips brushing the perfect sculpt of her cheeks. Daring. Reckless. "You think I'm special?"
Deity's eyes flashed, filled with too many things. Burning with the power of constellations and the universe and all that ever was. "I think you are an arrogant, inconsequential human. You are dust, and to dust you will fall. You are as fleeting as a summer breeze."
Villain smiled, sharp and sweet. "Yet you love me."
"Yes."
"Is that not reason enough to allow me a taste of your blood?"
Blood from a deity was a powerful thing. A single drop, enough to heal and mend and bestow eternal life upon any who dared to taste it.
"No," Deity said softly, and felt her heart break. The earth rumbled with the tectonic shift of it.
Villain's expression turned more serious. He took a gentle hold of his deity's chin, then, so that they were holding each other's faces. His thumb grazed her lips. "And if I were to say that I love you back?"
She pulled away from him to sit back on her throne. Made for her and of her, it complimented her in every way, as the rest of the temple did. She was the sun and the moon; the crest of a wave and the embers of a waning fire. Everything all at once. None of it overflowing. She held it all with a grace unmatched. Beautiful in a way that was more striking than the conventional intent of the word.
Her eyes, bearing the universe, locked onto his.
"I am the soul of the cosmos and I hold everything that ever was. Of course you love me, in the way that every faithful servant does."
Villain leaned in, bracing his hands on the throne's armrests to either side of her. He tutted as if gently correcting an animal rather than facing a goddess. "We both know I treasure you more deeply than that, my goddess."
Deity watched him, gaze tracing his features so intently he felt it was carved into his bones; engraved into the very core of him.
It was clear who he belonged to. And who with.
Her resolve shifted.
"You wish to spend an everlasting life with me?" Deity asked, musing.
Villain grinned. "We shall watch the death of time together, my goddess."
She stood back up, pulling her dagger from its sheath. Villain had to squint against the brilliance of it. Forged in dragon fire and blessed by the deities, it was the only weapon capable of piercing a divinity's flesh. She leaned closer in a mockery of Villain's posture, gazing down at him. "Prove it," she whispered against his ear. "Stay."
She held the point of the blade against the pad of her finger.
Villain's hand rose to rest on hers, straightening. "Allow me," he murmured.
Deity let him take the dagger from her grasp. Her one weakness, in the grip of a moral.
He held the tip against the soft tissue of her lip as their eyes locked. With gentle precision, he pricked the skin, a bead of blood welling on the plush surface.
Villain cast the blade aside with a clatter, as if it were nothing, and pulled Deity closer with a palm at her back.
He kissed her lips, slow and deliberate. A final offering, not at the alter, but against the glowing heart of her.
The blood on his tongue was intoxicatingly sweet with the sugar-rot of an endless summer.
When he pulled away, his eyes shone gold. The air about him stirred in a swirl of gleaming dust.
That time, it was Deity's breath that caught.
Villain smiled, reflecting the glow of a morning sunrise; the celestial glint of the moon on a window pane.
Deity turned with the villain--her immortal--and pushed him down onto her throne, moving onto his lap. Her skirts pooled against the marble. She leaned in to claim another searing kiss.
They'd watch the stars burn out together.
They had all of the time in the world.
I wrote this over the period of a couple weeks, so I'm sorry if it sounds disjointed in any way! Ive REALLY been wanting to write this October, but I just haven't been motivated. Im happy to get this one finished so that I can hopefully work on some Writober stuff next! I know I'm very late on that. But I'm still rly hoping to get a couple done! :)
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@thepenultimateword tagging since you wanted to read this! :)
General Taglist: @pinned-to-the-wahl , @valiantlytransparentwhispers  , @distance-does-not-matter  , @redbircl  , @lilaccatholic  , @crazytwentythrees  , @thelazywitchphotographer  , @chibicelloking  , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5  , @putridghost  , @tobeornottobeateacher  , @sunflower1000  , @bouncyartist  , @feyriddle  , @yet-another-heathen  , @silverwhisperer1  , @distractedlydistracted  , @pensivespacepirate  , @appleejuicee  , @deflated-bouncingball   @maybe-a-cat42  , @m0chik0furan  , @mercurymomentum , @fairysprinkless  , @vuvulia , @amongtheonedaisy , @rose-pinkie  , @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room  , @scorpio-smiles  , @inkygemuwu  , @wolfeyedwitch  , @thewhumpmeisterx3000  , @ikiiryo , @moonquires , @lem-hhn  , @fanastywhump  , @smallangryfish  , @ladybookworm  , @freefallingup13  , @acaiaforrest  , @a-blue-comedy  , @puppyaddict , @a-person-who-likes-musicals  , @talkingsperm  , @qualitychaoslover  , @deckofaces ,@7eselt
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aprettyspy · 4 months
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https://archiveofourown.org/works/51962851/chapters/131401738
Chapter One of my YuletideFlashFic is up.
Prompt: Mistletoe Magic
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sparrow-orion-writes · 2 months
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Standing easily in the centre of the circle, the sun fell against him. I watched from where I stood, my hand gripping cold metal to steady myself. I wanted to call out, to shout, but fear had taken my throat and stolen it closed. Wounded, bleeding, exhausted, I looked to him. I watched the way his breath steadied, the way it shook in that cavernous chest. One step, closer. Through the bodies, I could see his fingers twitch. The others were not armed enough - rudimentary things, baseball bats and knives, easy to access. One step, two. He waits, with all the eagerness of a lion about to feast. Though his tired eyes would often say otherwise, the glint now shown betrays him - he's enjoying this. The waiting, the hunt. A lion surrounded by prey. I knew, of course, absently. The way I know that there are planets out there somewhere that aren't our own. I knew he was a fighter, but often all I ever saw was a tired, ageing man. Until now. All it took was a flinch. Held eye contact broke and a knife flew from his grasp. I hadn't seen him grip it, only watched as it sliced through the thick neck of one. Another from behind. The crunch of bone and his own knife sunk between ribs. Three. Landed a hit on the back of his head. I flinched, and staggered forward. But there was no hesitation, just a burning heat to him and then the wail of breaking bones filling the silence. Four, stepped back in shock and felt the cool punch of a bullet to the chest. Five, six, seven. All in quick succession. The way he moved was something else. Coordinated. That man, the one I never see and always heard of. The simple pleasure of death lingered at his fingertips as he turned towards eight and nine. The last two still standing, not all dead, but most wishing they were. Most on their way too. Nine held a gun, levelled, but his hand shook. Eight stepped back behind him. It wasn't a lack of ability - these were both strong people, number nine easily the same height as him, and eight with the fighting ability of any hired muscle. I slipped clumsily through the shadows, gripping a hold of the wall to steady myself. I couldn't remember the last time I fired a gun. Holding it in my hand, it felt warmer than I remembered, though still cold against my burning and bloody hands. I just didn't want to be there. I wanted more than anything to run. It was my nature to stay in the shadows. But not with him staring down the barrel of the gun. My hands didn't shake. The shot still startled me. Nine crumpled to the ground, his fingers twitching and body spasming under the blood blossoming against his skin. Eight stepped back again, looking around him with the frightened eyes of someone who had simply had enough. He held up his hands, and then he ran. And still that man stood there. His eyes finding mine in the dim rays of sunlight filtering in streaks through the shattered ceiling. The sharpness softened, and the fight died, his body seizing with a sudden, terrible knowing. I had lost a lot of blood. And I fell to the floor.
written for @flashfictionfridayofficial
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nyamadermont · 1 year
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Was it Like This?
@flashfictionfridayofficial
#FFF195: Filled with Clarity
Avatar: Legend of Korra
742 words
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With a sigh, Lin knew she had to admit she couldn’t see Oogi anymore. Even the small bit of reflection from his coat had been obscured by an intervening cloud. There was no point looking that direction for at least a week. 
Faint tremors gave her enough notice to close her eyes and steady her breath before she had to turn around and face one of the last entries on her Tolerable People list. 
Pema’s hand floated timidly downward, as if she had raised it to touch Lin. The acolyte clasped her hands together and rubbed them. 
“Are you alright? I’m boiling water for tea.”
Lin carefully read Pema’s face. She saw no hint of teasing, no sign of enjoyment, no indication of pity. 
So she nodded, but said nothing. 
Pema turned and walked back to the house without imposing any further. 
Lin couldn’t say how, but she knew that Pema knew she had been crying. 
A small folding table sat between two plain cushions under the eaves. Lin saw two cups and a plate of cookies, some peeled grapes and orange sections. As she approached one cushion, Pema emerged with the teapot on a small tray. 
Lin paused to see which way Pema would move, but Pema just smiled and waited. Lin decided the cushion on her left would give her a better angle to relieve her hip. 
Once she was settled, Pema bent over and poured the tea for both of them. She set down the teapot and folded her legs to sit on the cushion opposite. The cookies slid slightly as she lifted the plate in Lin’s direction. 
“I made those almond cookies you like.”
Her smile was soft, and expected nothing in return. 
Lin thought about what it took for Pema to plan so far ahead as to make cookies that she liked.
She reached forward to select one of the delicate sweets, tasted it, and set the second half down. She sipped her tea, and rested the cup back down silently. 
A passing bird caught their eyes, and they both watched it fly toward the trees. In the branches, a flurry of motion and noise let them know the pigeon squirrels had taken off on their own errands. 
“Where did you wait for him?”
When she got no reply, she turned to face Pema, who blinked and raised an eyebrow. 
“Did I miss something you said, Lin? I’m sorry. I’m afraid you caught me wool-gathering.”
Her expression had not changed, except for a slight embarrassment. Pema exuded patience, not boredom. Her gaze was gentle, not expectant. 
Lin inhaled slowly. 
“Was it like this, sending him to break up with me? Were you excited? Happy? Relieved?”
Pema sighed. Her eyes were downcast, but resolutely, she made herself meet Lin’s gaze. 
“No.”
She pinched her lips, still holding Lin’s gaze, considering her words carefully. 
“I was worried he wouldn’t come back, or that he would just long enough to tell me to find someone else. I was worried that you two would hurt each other.” She paused, dropping her eyes. When she lifted them again, Lin could see a deep furrow to her brow. 
“I worried, just a little, that you would hurt him. Badly.” She took a steadying breath. “I didn’t worry enough about how he - and I - were hurting you.”
Lin closed her eyes as she turned her face away.
Pema continued, “Lin, you aren’t the one who made this choice. Kya is doing what she needs to do. And she’s taking decisive action before anything gets worse. You saw her when she left. Over all the years I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her so filled with clarity.”
Lin opened her eyes, but continued looking away from Pema, out over the trees. 
“Yes, she has gone to break someone’s heart. She will come back to you different than when she left. But she has decided that it’s what she needs to do.”
The silence stretched.
Lin whispered, “And if Tenzin hadn’t broken up with me then, I wouldn’t be here now.”
Pema’s mouth twitched in a near-smile. “The old gurus discouraged ‘what ifs.’” She rubbed a thumb against her knuckle. “But you’re right. Trust Kya. She knows that the person she needs is you. All of you will hurt, for a while.”
Lin turned to face her. 
Pema reached forward, her palm open. 
“But it won’t be forever.”
Lin’s mind cleared. 
And she clasped Pema’s hand. 
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ngkiscool · 1 year
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A lift home
#FFF195 Filled with Clarity @flashfictionfridayofficial
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Good Omens, 222 words, rated G - my version for this moment from the Blitz scene.
The sound of the bombs still rang in his ears, Aziraphale looked at what was only seconds ago a church. Now it was all rubble and ruin, a testament to humanity's ability to cause destruction and turmoil.
Another testament was right there, holding his precious books. How could he not have understood it before? All this time, he missed the signs. Even with so many eyes, he still hadn't seen what was in front of him, waiting to be noticed.
Holding the leather bag tightly in his hands, and heart about to overflow, he knew better than to mention it. Acquiring knowledge can put you in a lot of trouble, as Adam and Eve learned the hard way. And even more importantly, it will embarrass the demon. There will be a time and a place for that conversation, he hoped, but not here. Not now.
Once again, he opted for the safe way, choosing his words carefully, hoping they would be understood not as a simple thank you, but much more: "that was very kind of you".
The answer was short and blunt, but now he knew better, and saw the fondness behind the submissive words, the crow lines showing even through the sunglasses, and the relaxed body language.
"Yes, my dear", answered Aziraphale. "A lift home is all I ever wanted".  
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rexxles · 1 year
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Puzzle solved
I'm gonna try to take part in @flashfictionfridayofficial every week again. So here's my entry for the current prompt.
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It has been so obvious all this time. So easy to guess, so easy to see. She, however, couldn’t comprehend what was going on until now. She hasn’t had the tiniest idea that he of all people might be behind this. Her friend, her ally.
It has been his plan all along. Everything happened because of him. The pain, the loss, everything they’ve been through.
She had wondered all the time who the great mind was that had planned their misery so perfectly. She knew it must have been someone within sight. Someone who knew them, someone she knew. But she never thought it was someone so close to her. Someone she trusted, someone she adored.
He had betrayed her. He had betrayed all of them. Unbelievable. Disgusting.
Now it was clear. His goal was obvious. He wanted to destroy them all and wouldn’t stop until no one was standing in his way to success. He wanted the throne, but she wouldn’t let him get it. If anyone was to ascend the throne and replace the old king it would be the princess, no one else. The princess had her heart in the right place and the right to rule was hers alone.
And if he was to try to kill her, she, who finally figured out all the puzzle pieces, would jump in harm’s way to protect the princess even if it was the last thing she would do. Truth be told, she loved him, even after everything he had done, yet she loved the princess more.
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anonymousdandelion · 2 years
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Ineffable Plans, Points, and Possibilities
Written for @kedreeva​‘s March Flash Fiction prompt "Plan A just failed.
In which Aziraphale and Crowley have a discussion spanning theology, pragmatism, and the search for an elusive point. (Spoiler: This time, the point is not dolphins. Probably not, anyway.)
Ineffable Plans, Points, and Possibilities, rated G, 1206 words
“The way I see it,” said Crowley, staring into the crystal of his Ritz wine glass, “since the world still exists, there are three possibilities as far as the Ineffable Plan.”
Aziraphale looked at him, seeming surprised. “Infinite possibilities, I should think. More than three, in any case. Infinite and eternal and beyond all measure or comprehension. It all comes with the ineffability part, you see.”
“Um. Right. Um.” Crowley tried to recapture his train of thought. “That’s not what I meant,” he hazarded. He didn’t think it was, anyway. Though it was hard to be sure.
“It isn’t?” Aziraphale blinked. “Oh. Sorry. What did you mean, then?”
That was a good question. Crowley groped after the answer. “I meant,” he explained, “about everything that happened today. Or, well, everything that didn’t happen today.”
It was Aziraphale’s turn to say, “Um.”
“The Great Plan,” Crowley clarified. “Which may or may not have been the same thing as the Ineffable Plan, because on the one hand everyone knew the whole apocalypse thing was written but on the other hand it’s always possible there might have been something else written in another place—”
“In larger print, and with double underlining?” Aziraphale filled in.
“Exactly.” Crowley nodded. “Come to that, could even be triple-underlined.”
“I suppose it could. Or quadruple, for that matter. If there was enough space between the lines. I imagine it would get rather difficult to read otherwise.” Having finished his own meal several minutes ago, Aziraphale snagged a bite from Crowley’s plate. “I thought you were saying something about three possibilities, though?”
Aha, and there it was! Train of thought, regained. “Yeah,” Crowley said. He took a drink.
“And?” the angel prompted.
Finish reading
(More of my March Flash Fiction here!)
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bifangirl09er · 1 year
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BL DRAMA FANFIC PROMPT IDEAS?
Hey I really love writing fan fiction on AO3, and now I want to try on Tumblr.
However, I need some ideas, so please send me any prompts you have. I am accepting prompts for most Thai BL, some Korean and Taiwanese. Just send me an idea, and I will tell you if I will accept it.
You can always do anon!! So, you don't have to be shy.
You can also do a prompt through this form:
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sparrow-orion-writes · 9 months
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Set in the Cardinal Sins universe but is pretty much irelevant to the plot. It was just a nice idea.
--
My mum's always had such a lovely singing voice - so much so that we always joked that maybe we were related after all. She'd take me down to the beach with that beat up speaker and sing along, and I was always as enraptured as a kid can be with their mother. I adored her. I still do. She always refused to get in the water with me - said it had caused her enough trouble. I could go though, but why would I? I was a kid, I didn't quite understand yet that it was less 'sink or swim' - and more 'will inevitably always be safe in the sea' - with me. I hadn't quite figured it out then, despite the scales, that we weren't really cut from the same cloth - so to speak.
The day I learned that I could swim, my mum had just walked to the outdoor toilet. It was hot that day, enough that the mid-july heat had me sweating whilst lying in the shade. I walked (half-fell, I remember the sand felt like it was physically dragging me back) down to the shore to feel the cold water up to my ankles. I heard a song, soft and gentle, and it reminded me of my mother's singing. It sounded like the breeze and the waves but if these things had a voice - like leaves rustling enough to make words, and the push and pull of gravity held a symphony. Even as a child, I knew something was comforting me. Something felt like my mother. I wasn't scared. I looked out into the water and saw endless blue until the horizon. I looked to my left to an empty beach, and to my right to only sand and shells and stones. There were no other people there. "Come play with me, my child," a voice whispered to me in the emptiness, causing me to look down at the waves in awe - deciding that it must only be the sea. I had never swam before, had never gotten the water so much as further than my knees. But I inched further anyway - following this gentle song as the water peeled back and flicked at me playfully. I giggled, seeing not a vast and cruel space, but a friend. The water rose and wrapped itself around me, poking me childishly, before flopping back, causing a huge splash. The sound made me laugh alone, but wiping the water out of my eyes I couldn't help but giggle at my soaked shirt. "You're safe," the sea told me. It rose in a wave above my head and my smile slipped away, a moment of fear instilled in my hammering heart. And then the wave enclosed upon me. For a long moment I screamed into the vast expanse of a vacuum, coughing and dying and unable to breathe. Terror overcame every inch of me as I coughed out water only to inhale it into screaming lungs and an aching stomach. I felt heat and frozen cold all at once, my eyes screwed shut for all my tears to roll in reverse. And then I could breathe. I opened my eyes to find the salt water didn't sting - and I was staring through the curtain of water (and a school of fish) to my mother, who stood on the beach with a pained expression. I ran towards her and the water continued to rise, keeping me enclosed. I just wanted my mum. But she shook her head. "It's okay," she shouted through the water. "You're okay." And I was. For the first time, I became aware of my body, looking down at webbed hands and feet to find I hadn't ran at all - I'd swam. I blinked a couple of times as I felt a rush of water against my neck, lifting my and to the same slits that fish had, trailing to curiously thin webbed ears. My first thought is that somehow I had become a fish. No one had told me at this point that I was a siren child, and I hadn't yet come to understand what it meant to be a creature of the sea. I thought one of the witches from those fairytale books she read to me had cursed me. My second thought was, if I was a fish, that meant I had to spend the rest of my life in the sea, and I couldn't hug my mother anymore. Naturally this was the point I started to cry - in a fashion - again.
The very DNA of me unravelled as the newfound gills were completely unable to take in air. The process wasn't pretty, I tried to scream and couldn't. It felt like someone was taking a pair of scissors and cutting into me. For years afterwards I woke up from nightmares - screaming - just thinking of the pain.
And then I just lay in my mother's arms, exhausted and heaving in air as though terrified there wasn't enough of it in the world. She rocked me, singing softly against my hair to calm me.
"I'd hoped one day you'd ask - but you never seemed interested," she gently traced the scales on my cheek "...I didn't know what to say, I didn't want you to think you weren't mine - I'm so sorry - I was so selfish and I didn't prepare you." She sobbed, holding me in her arms on the beach, I held onto her, confused. I wasn't angry at my mum, I don't think at that point I'd ever really been angry at her at all.
"I found you on the shore, crying, starving, I took you home with me, you were always mine, I always loved you - I chose you."
I didn't really understand, I have to admit. To some extent I got it, in some way I had been found, but I didn't know much about birth and children at that point. For all I knew this was how all children were made.
It would take a few years before it sank in.
"I love you," I told her, instead, "...I wanna go home." And just like that she wiped her tears, nodded, and picked me up. She carried me all the way home. I remember her panting, and asking her if she would put me down - but she just couldn't let go. That was my mum through and through; stubborn, resilient, and could never let go.
I've been out at sea for a few years now, I go home sometimes - I can still hear her singing. Anyway, yeah, that's how I found out I was a Siren. --
@flashfictionfridayofficial
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slttygeto · 6 months
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°˖➴ when your baby …— (JJK MEN)
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જ⁀➴ featuring: nanami kento, kamo choso, fushiguro toji, geto suguru and gojo satoru.
જ⁀➴ word count: 2,6k
જ⁀➴ tags: fluff, pregnancy, birth, babies, domestic jjk men, they're all your husbands, them being perfect.
જ⁀➴ note: not proofread, some of these are a bit unrealistic, but keep in mind that it's fiction and i don't have a baby.
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°˖➴ when your baby smiles for the first time: [nanami kento]
Birth was a blessing in itself, but having a partner as supportive as Kento made everything worth it, down to the sleepless nights you have been spending trying to get used to your baby’s constant need to be cuddled, fed and taken care of. You were frustrated, it was pretty evident by the tears welling up in your eyes every two seconds along with how you simply refused to be near anyone but your baby and Kento. Thankfully, he was always the one coaxing you to get out of the bed and sit on the balcony, have a full meal and relax while he took care of the baby.
On the outside, it seemed as though Kento had everything under control, and that nothing could affect him as long as you were okay. He never cried when you did (beside when he held the baby for the first time), and he made sure to validate your every frustration and fear, all while telling you that everything will be okay.
Which brings us to this moment, with both of you sitting on the couch with your baby on his lap. One of your favorite things about these nights was that Kento never skipped them and always made sure to play with your baby for a bit before helping you put her to bed. Even when he was incredibly exhausted.
Kento rocked your baby back and forth, enjoying the happy and curious noises leaving your daughter’s mouth. Your husband’s pointer was gently tracing her face, humming a soft tune about how adorable she was all while helping her be more aware of her body.
“And those are your eyes,” his tired voice came out. “And this is your nose,” accompanied with a boop, “and those are your precious cheeks,” a laugh escaped his lips when your daughter seemed to try to escape from the ticklish feeling of his finger and you chuckled at the scene. Your happiness was so contagious that your daughter’s lips twitched and a giggle escaped her lips.
“Oh,” Kento paused his movements but it only seemed to make your daughter giggle even more. “Look at you,” a smile broke on your husband’s face and he leans down to brush his nose against hers. “Is daddy your favorite comedian already?” And the louder her giggles got, the harder it was for your husband to contain his own laughter. He throws his head back on the couch and closes his eyes, and when he leans back down towards your baby girl, her smile only gets bigger and bigger.
You bring your legs up to your chest and watch the scene unfold with a heart full of love and adoration for your husband and the human being you both created. And when Nanami notices your silence, he supports his baby girl’s head with one hand and reaches his free hand towards your leg to caress it.
“Are you okay, darling?” To which you flash him with a smile that Kento could only describe as one that filled his heart to the brim.
“Never been better.”
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°˖➴ when your baby first rolls over: [kamo choso]
You were well aware of how anxious and easily nervous your husband could get. Throughout your entire pregnancy, you were never allowed to be even a foot away from him. On a normal day, you would’ve asked for personal space, but lucky Choso, your pregnancy hormones seemed to make you even more attached to him.
Now that your baby boy was here, all of that anxiety and nervousness was doubled. Instead of worrying about one person and a bump, Choso had to make sure you and your baby were both okay all while trying not to tire himself to stay awake for you two. Night feeds were usually his favorite time of the day, despite your tired self and the sleepiness on your face, watching you try to hold your baby while feeding him always made him lean towards you and press a kiss to your forehead.
Your baby was about three months old when Choso started becoming even more involved with diaper and outfit changing. Not that he didn’t want to at the beginning, you were always far too nervous to let him do anything unsupervised. Your baby was currently on the bed while his father reached for the outfit that he laid out for him. And while Choso was always super careful, you had called out his name before walking into the room and so he turns his head to the door and is confused when you’re wide eyed and staring at the bed.
“What?”
“Look- the baby, Choso!” He turns to stare at his son and is pleasantly surprised when he notices that his son had fully rolled over and was now on his stomach. Your husband doesn’t say a thing as your baby makes noises, almost complaining to you both that he wasn’t seeing you and that his muscles were still too weak to support his head, so Choso rolls him on his back and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.
“…don’t you think it’s too soon for him to try to leave mid-conversation?”
“Baby,” you let out a chuckle. “I’m sure that’s not what he meant.”
“He’s moving too quickly! What do you mean he was able to roll over?” Your husband complains and he slowly dresses up your son.
“It just means our baby is healthy and functioning well.”
“Yeah,” Choso says softly before picking up your baby. “Our baby.”
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°˖➴ when your baby starts crawling: [fushiguro toji]
Toji always thought that he didn’t deserve a second chance at life. He simply thought it was too late to start over, that was until he met you and you made him realize that ‘too late’ didn’t really have a place in your dictionary. You made him experience everything all over again; from falling in love to raising two healthy babies along with Megumi and Tsumiki. You gave him a second chance at being a father all while helping him fix his relationship with his kids.
You always made sure to help Tsumiki and Megumi with their homework while Toji stayed with your baby boy and baby girl. He would sit on the floor and watch as they struggled to even hold up their heads and try to reach for him.
“Come on now, I know you can do it,” Toji held the toy your baby boy was whining to his father to give him, and your husband was very stubborn about what his kids were capable of. Tsumiki and Megumi were already excelling at different sports and even academically, and despite you trying to convince your husband that your babies were only six months old, he wouldn’t listen.
Shifting his attention from his son to his daughter, he reaches for the toy in her hands and slowly takes it away from her. He watches as a pout forms on her lips and her eyes get teary almost immediately, and Toji has never believed in mother instinct as much as right now, because you burst out of the study room at the same time as your baby girl crying.
“Toji,” your disappointed tone as you walked towards the scene made the man turn back towards his babies.
“I just think they should be crawling by now.”
“They need time baby,” you step behind him and look over your baby girl who was trying to rub her teary eyes. “You can try by setting it in front of her, then she can try reaching for it.”
Your husband does as he is told and completely forgets about his son’s toy. Too focused on getting your daughter to move towards her toy, he fails to notice his son slowly crawling towards him to retrieve the small item sitting next to him but you do.
“Oh!” your gasp catches your husband’s attention and he immediately notices his son. “Come on baby! Good job!” Toji doesn’t waste time and turns back towards your daughter, gently coaxing her into moving towards her toy.
“Come on baby girl, come on,” it is very rare for Toji to be smiling so softly but whenever he was with his kids, his cheeks would end up hurting him from smiling too much.
Your daughter’s attention quickly shifts towards the person that walks out of the study room, and when her eyes fall on Megumi, a giggle escapes her lips and she starts moving towards her older brother. You and Toji watch in awe as Megumi sits cross legged on the floor and talks very softly to his baby sister, words of encouragement leaving his lips as your baby girl stops a couple of times and whines at the difficult task at hand.
“Just a bit more, come on,” But once in Megumi’s arms, the boy holds her carefully before walking back towards you and his dad. Toji stands up with his younger son in his arms before patting Megumi’s head.
“Good job, boy. You did well.” To which Megumi responds to with a shy nod before handing you his baby sister.
Moments like these sure made it feel like everything in life was worth it.
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°˖➴ when your baby says their first word: [geto suguru]
You never knew you could fall in love twice until you saw your husband become a father to your beautiful baby girls. Not only was he supportive, which was obviously the bare minimum, he still managed to be present for all three of his girls at the same time. The girls were obsessed with their father, and rightfully so, but something you truly admired about your husband was that he made sure to include himself during their play time.
And despite your attempts at convincing him that play time meant playing with dolls and plushies, Suguru was adamant on teaching his little girls very interesting words that had their tiny eight month old brains almost short circuit.
“Sugu, easy there. They can’t possibly know what pontificate means.” You say followed with a low chuckle, watching as the man sat down on the floor with his legs spread wide open for his two girls to sit in the space there and glance at the book their father was holding.
“My girls are smart like their parents,” your husband says with a serious look on his face. “I need their first words to be something smart, something big…”
“I need something that screams Beyoncé,” you say jokingly and your husband shoots you a playful glare.
“Be serious.”
You squat in front of your baby girls and it immediately shifts their attention from the book Suguru was holding and you smile at that. You instinctively open your arms and wait for them to crawl towards you, but instead one of the girls looks back at Suguru and waits for him to look down at her.
“Mama,” your little girl turns to her sister before staring at you and starts crawling towards you and your jaw almost touches the floor.
“Did you just say mama?”
“Mamama,” your other daughter mimics her sister and tries to escape Suguru’s hold, but he catches her in his arms and his happiness seems to be a lot more obvious than yours.
“Yeah baby, that’s mama! She said mama, did you hear that?” You grab your baby girl who was crawling towards you and grin at your husband.
“Didn’t you say you wanted their first word to be something big?”
“You’re their everything, so it is something big.” There was no doubt that you picked the right person to father your children.
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°˖➴ when your baby starts walking: [gojo satoru]
You’ve always known that your baby was going to be as hyper as Satoru. Ever since he was in the womb, your baby would not stop moving and kicking, it even resulted in him almost wrapping the umbilical cord around his neck but thankfully, the birth went great and he came out as healthy as ever.
Despite being so sure that the baby would be a carbon copy of his father, your baby boy ended up taking your every facial feature. Satoru couldn’t deny that he wished his baby had his white hair, but something about having a second human looking exactly like you melted his heart. But that was literally the only thing the baby had about you, just the looks. Because God, was he an active baby.
He was holding his head up and rolling on his stomach faster than you had expected, and since Satoru loved to test his boy’s limits, your baby ended up crawling soon after. Not even two months later, your baby was saying his first words and all you could do was nod and smile as people told you how unique your baby was, and a part of you could only wish that you would shelter him from all the attention he was getting. But he was a Gojo, and stuff like this was bound to happen.
But the moment your husband noticed your discomfort, he immediately stopped accepting people when they asked to come over. He was excited to become a father, but it wouldn’t be the same if it meant robbing you of the same place that was supposed to bring you comfort.
And apparently, only he could keep up with his son’s hyper self. Crawling from corner to corner, squealing in excitement and tossing his toys around, Satoru even encouraged his son to grab onto the couch and crawl around the space that was heavily baby-proofed.
“Ah, you’re so eager to walk, aren’t you?” Satoru teases his son as he tries to hold onto the couch and stand up. With a little bit of support on his bum, your baby managed to stand up but freezes there and turns his head to the side where his father was staring at him.
“What, are you scared? It’s not so fun anymore, hm?” Your husband teases your son who seems to be taking his father’s words not very well. He pouts and rests his head on the couch, refusing to look at his dad and Satoru laughs out loud.
“Come on, I was only joking, you’re good at everything just like your dad.” You eventually walk down the stairs and you raise an eyebrow at your pouting eleven month old son.
“What did you do?” you immediately pin the blame onto your husband who gasps and puts a hand on his chest.
“I didn’t do anything!” He pats your son’s bum as your baby’s wobbly legs try to move him around the couch and towards you. “He stood up and got scared, and I found it funny.”
“Oh baby,” you squat down to your baby’s level and reach out your hands to grab him. “Papa is so mean, isn’t he?”
“Am not,” Satoru rolls his eyes but he watches as your son reaches the end of the couch and hesitates to let go. You lock eyes with your baby, and your husband thinks it’s a beautiful example of mothers and babies silently communicating, because no words were exchanged yet your baby knew to trust you completely.
He doesn’t fall into your arms but instead, he pushes himself away from the couch and takes a very small step towards you. You try not to gasp in surprise, and you wait as he takes another step—then another, and another before falling in your embrace and both you and Satoru are wide eyed and surprised at what just happened.
“He just—“
“He walked!” Your husband jumps from his spot on the ground and takes your baby in his arms. “My son is one of a kind! I’m telling you, he will win a nobel prize—“
Satoru always found a way to be excited about any of his son’s milestones.
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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taintedjeon · 6 months
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‘𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞…’ 𝐦𝐲𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬; 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦
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✞ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: alternative!yoongi x reader ✞ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k ✞ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: yoongi has tongue pierings, bigdick!yoongi, dirty talk, raw sex, riding, nipple play, nipple biting, minor hair tugging, size kink, using a polaroid during sex, mention of dacryphilia to open
disclaimer: this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. yoongi is used solely as a face and a name for the story. this is not a representation of real-life scenarios.
series masterlist | main masterlist
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“Don’t hide your pretty noises. I want you to cry for me.” Yoongi emphasises his requests as he speeds up his pace. His lips bathing your shoulder in kisses as he makes his way up to the sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shiver under his touch.
His name leaves your lips in a sinful prayer for the man in between your thighs. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, all you’re able to do is feel him filling you to the brim with all of him as tears wet your eyes, obscuring your vision.
“You’re fucking perfect,” you hear Yoongi muttering into your chest as you move yourself up and down, impaling yourself on his cock, “treating me well, ni—ah, fuck baby!”
Yoongi’s head is thrown back against the plush grey headrest of the couch, his bottom lip caught in between his teeth as he grunts in pleasure. One of his hands rest on your hips, the warmth of his palm and the coldness of his rings decorating his lithe fingers causes shivers to run over your body.
He is incredible. Insatiable even. Yoongi knows your body better than you know it yourself. He knows just how to fuck you right, every single time.
With your body shaking and eyes screwed shut tight in arousal, you miss Yoongi reaching out beside him. A click, accompanied by a quick bright flash takes you by surprise, causing your eyes to flutter open.
Halting your movements, you peer down at Yoongi who is staring straight into your eyes — blackened, blown out and filled with lust. You clench your pussy around his cock and smile at the polaroid in his hands.
“Want to remember this moment.”
“Well let me help you,” you tell him as you grab at his hand and place it on your tits, guiding him to palm you. Yoongi is more than happy to indulge you and plays with your nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger, tugging at the bud, watching it harden under his touch. You lace your fingers with his and then watch as he snaps a new image of him groping you.
One of your hands comes to rest on the back of his head, fingers gripping into his long strands of raven hair and giving them a soft tug in that way he loves. You lean down and kiss Yoongi with a surge of urgency. It’s wet and messy as your tongues tangle and lips smack against each other. His dual tongue bars give the kiss an added edge as he usages it to his advantage to lick against your lower lip before pulling at the skin in between his teeth. From below, you feel Yoongi lift his hips causing the tip of his cock to press deeper inside of you. A strangled moan slips past your kiss bitten lips at the welcomed pleasure.
Yoongi is thick and heavy inside of you, stretching you loose in ways no man ever has done before. Sex with Yoongi is always exciting and with added kinks to explore with each other, he always leaves you wanting more every time.
“How’s my angel doing?” He whispers as he plays about with the settings on the camera before pointing the lens back in your direction.
“G-good, want to keep going—fuck!” You curse at the end as he moves his hips again and snaps another image of you as your face contorts in unadulterated pleasure.
“G’on, move for me princess, show me how cock drunk you get for me, yeah.”
You don’t need to be told twice. You slid your hands across his chest, tracing the lines of the dragon tattoo that spans across his well built upper body. Through lustful eyes, you watch as Yoongi bites his lip at your touch and you keen, knowing that you’re the one to bring Min Yoongi down to this state with you.
Lifting your hips, you glide your cunt from his base to the tip, managing to feel every vein that wraps around his pretty length.
“Fuck, wait stay there. Let me get a picture of this, holy shit…” Yoongi proclaims and takes the third picture on the polaroid. “Don’t move. Keep yourself hugging my tip, fuck you gotta see how wet you got my cock princess.”
You do as you’re told and you keep your body positioned above him, cockhead nuzzled snuggly in your small hole as you await the polaroid to print the film.
Minutes pass and it doesn’t take long for your legs to start trembling from your muscles being stagnant in this position for a little longer than you’re used to.
“Yoongi, I wanna fuck!” Your protest comes out whiny as you fight the urge to drop yourself down to begin fucking him again.
The sound of the polaroid printing is heard between the both of you and you watch as Yoongi reaches for the film, shaking it in the air for a few seconds before looking at it.
He groans, and you feel arousal build up and leak onto Yoongi’s cock. The sounds that Yoongi creates, every moan, every rumble of his chest pushes you to keep still.
Next thing, Yoongi is twisting the picture around for you to see with your own eyes and what a sight it was. His length looks swollen with use, hard and stunningly decorated in those pretty veins you enjoy giving attention when he allows you. His length glistens under the flash of the camera from the juices he has spilled from your pussy and now it’s your turn to moan.
“Can you see too? The way I barely fit inside you…” he trails off. “Look at you struggling to take my fat cock in your tight cunt, I’ve never seen anything so fucking stunning. This is art.”
Warmth spreads around your body at his words as you look at the image as he speaks to you with so much filth. You flutter around him, utterly brain dead from Yoongi’s cock.
You’re not given enough time to think before Yoongi rocks his hips up, stroking your walls beautifully as he pulls you down to bury himself back in the hilt of his home which is your pussy. Tears gather in your eyes, giving them a sparkle that Yoongi loves to coax from you as he throws the camera back to the side in order for him to guide you up and down his throbbing dick.
The burn in your thighs is present and makes itself apparent as you continue to work your muscles into overdrive as you ride Yoongi like your life depended on it. Yoongi wraps both his hands around your back, palms resting against your clammy skin as he whispers filthy praises and prays of you into your skin, absolutely lost in the lust that is you and your tiny cunt.
You scratch at his chest, digging your nails through the dragon tattoo, breaking the skin and knowing that there will be a trail of red desire marked into his skin for the evening.
“You’re so big!” You hiccup, feeling Yoongi increase the speed of his hips into you, his ego swelling at your words.
“Ah, your pussy is leaking all over me, making such a mess of me angel.” Yoongi punctuates his words with a firm buck into your cunt, Yoongi highlights the loud squelching sounds of your ministrations.
One of his hands finds your wrist and brings it up to his mouth where he places kiss after kiss on each knuckle. He guides your hand further down until it finds the column of his throat and you rest there.
“G’on princess, choke me a little,” Yoongi grunts through gritted teeth and so you do as you’re told, applying a light amount of pressure around Yoongi’s throat. You watch as Yoongi’s eyes flutter closed and his mouth opens in pleasure, his tongue coming out to lick at the corner of his lips. The glint of his tongue ring makes you whine. Your body manages to fight through the overstimulation of his cock fucking into you over and over again as you take over as much as Yoongi is allowing you.
Now, you’re using each other and it’s never felt so fucking pleasurable. You eye the polaroids that Yoongi had taken early scattered around the sofa around his body and you smirk as the tears are rolling down your cheeks in small rivulets. You are both drowning each other in sex so intense, the pleasure borders on almost painful.
With each drop off your hips, you feel him deep in your stomach. Your body burns in overexertion but you don’t stop until you’ve both reached your ends.
“I’m taking you so well, Yoongi, can you feel me!?” You swivel your hips as you ask.
“Nobody got a pussy like yours… best pussy I’ve ever fucked, princess, swear.” Yoongi rasps through your hold on his throat. At his words, you squeeze your fingers just a little tighter around his throat.
“You gonna come, angel?”
You nod at him. “I’m so close, please. Please, I need to!” You beg him to let you finally reach your climax, your hips working faster.
“Just like that baby, you’re doing so good.” you could hear that his voice is straining as his hips become sloppier in their movements. Your spare hand reaches for the headrest of the sofa behind him.
“Fuck, yes, keep going, keep going, I’m gonna fill you to the fucking brim, gonna watch you bloat with my cum,” Yoongi is loud, not afraid who around you both hears his promise to you. 
The living room fills with moans and skin slapping against skin as the pair of you use each other to reach your climaxes. Finally, yoongi leans forward and takes a nipple in between his teeth and runs both his tongue bars over the hardened bud back and forth. Yoongi bites down hard and in return, your pussy vices him in and your hands release from his neck. All at once, Yoongi’s breath hitches as the air returns to his burning lungs and comes inside of you, filling you with his hot sticky white seed as he paints your body with filthy praises.
Soon after, you meet your orgasm shortly behind his own. Your body stills as you tremble above him as your body releases your arousal all over Yoongi, making a mess of him and probably the couch underneath.
He is quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you as your body twitches through your orgasm. Yoongi can’t help but give tiny shallow thrusts to help aid you through it.
You both bask in the glow of intense sex as you both collapse onto each other. Yoongi is the first to move as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up off of his softening cock. The feeling of him moving through your sensitive cunt causes you to hiss but you pout when he has fully removed himself.
After catching his breath, Yoongi guides you to lie down on the sofa as he reaches once more for the polaroid.
“Yoongi, what’re you—,” you’re cut off with the familiar click of the camera and bright flash momentarily brightening up the living room before bathing it back in it’s natural darkness.
“I can’t fuck you that well and not get the money shot, can I?” You hear the smirk in his voice. You feel a hand wrap around your ankle and then your legs are being pried apart slowly. “C’mon, let me see how messy you are for me, yeah?”
Now it’s your turn to laugh as you indulge Yoongi in his request, giving him the opportunity to get the device up close and personal to your cunt before snapping a new image.
“Yeah, these are definitely going into the wank bank for later.”
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© 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ.
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