#Cant wait to see how this bites me in the ass

[thirtysomethingloser92]

Watching 22 Jump Street with the husband and I’m staring at Channing Tatum with a whole ass *Ive just discovered I really do fancy you, and I’m sorry for ignoring you all these years* look, and my husbands like “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who like Channing Tatum”

And I’m like “Oh, no. I like the other guy….Jonah Hill….ya know”

So now I have to live with the secret that I’m secretly now in love with Channing Tatum due to his portrayal of my favourite Xmen character.

This is working out like a scene from Seinfeld.

Fuck my life.

[lamefish]

when fratboy!satoru takes your virginity you kind of expect him to be an ass about it. he's cocky as it is, and has a habit of gassing himself up too much when it comes to his... skills in the bedroom. if you're not listening to him talk about how he's the strongest, you're listening to him talk about how he's the biggest.

being the only virgin of your friend group was starting to grate on you and... a small part of you might've wanted to find out if there's any bite to satoru's bark. it's not like the two of you were dating or anything, but you felt comfortable enough to walk up to him one day during lunch and ask, in front of his best friend:

"will you take my virginity?"

maybe you expected him to blush. or freeze up. or at least trip over his words. but instead, the stupid white-haired prick looked up at you with the most relaxed expression possible and shrugged.

"okay."

and that's how you ended up here, sitting criss-cross applesauce on his messy dorm-room bed with his tongue halfway down your throat. a few empty cans of beer and abandoned cheat sheets lay strewn over his floor, and you hate yourself for letting this be the backdrop of your entry into the sex-having life.

but you can’t hate yourself for long because as he runs a hand up your thigh and under your skirt, you start to feel more excited than you thought you’d feel. he pushes you back, slots his knee between your thighs and bites at your bottom lip before trailing down to your throat.

still, it’s satoru, so when he pushes your panties to the side and feels just how wet you are for him, he laughs. “you get this wet when you touch yourself or is all of this just for me?”

“shut up,” you groan as he nips at the skin of your throat and gently runs his finger through your folds and up to your clit. you’re surprised he knows where your clit is, even.

and he’s not wrong—you’ve never been wet like this before. you can feel just how damp the fabric of your panties are you as satoru pulls them down your thighs and hikes your skirt up to get a clearer look at your soaked cunt.

“pretty,” he licks his lips. “wannna taste her, that okay baby?”

his eyes search yours for consent and you’re stunned for a moment as he waits for ‘enthusiastic consent’. you didn’t expect this sort of check-in from a frat boy. your nod seems enthusiastic enough to him, but just for clarity��“use your words.”

“yes. please, gojo.”

“satoru,” he corrects you. “want to hear that name when you cum on my tongue. cant believe no ones tasted her before.”

the use of referring to your pussy as ‘her’ is odd but quickly overlooked when he delves into your pussy like he’s dehydrated. tongue flat against your heat just to flex and circle around your clit. he sucks and bites a little and pulls you to your first orgasm in nasty speeds.

you cum on his tongue whilst his eyes bore into yours from between your thighs. white hair pulled out of his face by your hand as you tug the strands in hopes that he’ll stop licking at your overstimulated clit. it takes until you’re shaking for him to finally pull back and free his angry cock from his pants.

you think you gasp when you see it. he said he was big but you didn’t think he was a truthful man in the slightest. his cock is so heavy it doesn’t even stand at full mast—it fights gravity. satoru sees the look on your face and instead of sporting a shit-eating grin like you expect, he climbs over you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“let’s stop here?” he asks. “we could watch a movie. oooh what about die hard?”

you giggle, your nerves melting a little at his words. “i’m okay, i want this. i am not graduating as a virgin.”

satoru snorts and, after rolling a condom on, gently pries your legs apart enough for him to slot his wait in between them. he guides your ankles to link behind his back and slowly runs the tip of his cock through your slick folds. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he says. “just relax. i’ve got you, baby.”

you actually manage to relax a little, focus on the feeling of being stretched as satoru slowly pushes into you until his tip is completely hidden in your cunt. it’s uncomfortable, but not unbearable. “keep going.”

one of his long fingers dips down to rub soft circles over your clit to relax you a little more as he pushes deeper. you’ve never felt so full, so sore yet desperate for more… you wonder if it’s always going to feel like this, or if it’s just because satoru is the one breaking you open to find pleasure in your insides.

he lets out a pretty moan as he bottoms out inside of you, the weight of his heavy balls resting against your ass as he stills and catches your lips in a wet kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth, runs over your teeth and pushes against your tongue as he slowly draws out of you and then, with a grunt that you taste, snaps his hips forwards into you.

that hurts, but there’s an odd stitch of pleasure in the way he’s broken you open. “sorry,” he speaks against your lips. “it’s better that i just got it out of the way, it can start feeling real good soon. gonna make you cum on my cock, baby. you want that?”

you nod, eyes staring into his as your foreheads meet. satoru nods back, licking his lips and smiling. “yeah? you wanna be stuffed full, huh? always knew you were filthy. but i’m the only one that gets to see it.”

his arrogance pulls at your lips. “until i fuck the next guy.”

snap. his cock splits you open at that, and though you wince and screw your face us, you’re letting out moans made for porn too. his finger on your clit starts working a little faster as he draws back again just to drive into you even harder.

“no,” he dips his head down to bite at your neck. “not until you fuck the next guy. i mean you can try, baby, but it’s not happening.”

“ngh, what do you mean?”

another thrust into you sends you further up the bed. you’re sure you look a mess but satoru looks down at you with such wide blown eyes that you could be convinced you’re from the heavens. “not giving you up that easy,” he groans. “you know, i fucked someone last week just because they had your name. got to moan it without being slapped. again.”

your hand flies up to his chest, almost in an attempt to slow his now mean pace. “wait you—ngh god—you like me?”

“i’m far fucking past like,” he moans, hips starting to stutter. any discomfort has faded into glorious pleasure. your stomach starts to tighten again and you know you’re close enough that he’s going to try and time your orgasms. “you’re so perfect. so much better than i imagined.”

your eyes roll back a little at the thought of satoru fucking his fist late at night to the thought of you. how nonchalant he was when you asked him to take your virginity, you wonder if he went home last night and stroked himself to the sheer anticipation of being inside of you.

“satoru i’m gonna—”

he cuts you off with a deep kiss. it’s sex and want and lust, but it’s also soft in a way you can’t describe—maybe even a little anxious after his confession. it might just be his pending orgasm, but you swear his lips tremble between yours.

his cock throbs as he drills it into you, hits your most sensitive spot with every single thrust. it’s like he already has you mapped out, because you’re both cumming in tandem with each other before long.

a part of you aches to feel his cum spill into you instead of the condom he wears, to be claimed and filled by his seed over and over. would he fuck it back into you? clean you off with his talented tongue? would he plug you with his cock until he’s ready to overfill you with a second load?

he moans into your mouth and pulls back a little to revel in your fucked out expression. your legs still wrap around his waist, boxing him in and keeping him close. you worry that in typical frat boy fashion he’ll make an excuse and run off to recount the fuck with his friends. but satoru pecks at your lips, then your chin, then down your neck again.

“what are you doing?” you ask, vision slightly blurred from the intensity of your orgasm.

“gonna make you cum again,” he smiles against your skin. “didn’t you hear?”

“hear what?”

he pulls back to look at you, a soft smile pulling at his pretty lips. “that if you cum at least five times when you lose your virginity, you’ll fall in loooove.”

[heyitslapis]

what fucking makes me want o rip my hair out when it comes to the security guy at work is that i'll even try to COMMUNICATE WITH HIM!!!!! (i know for people like us communication can be difficult & we often need specific clear wording and even then we have layers to peel back) When i cant tell if he's being sarcastic, i'll ask him genuinely, because as ive told him multiple times before the way he says things it literally cannot be interpreted as a joke (even neurotypicals at work have agreed with me in front of him) and always seems like he's being serious. i tell him this all the time and he acts like its fucking funny that im genuinely mad about the fact that he wont communicate back with me. Verbatim i have told him on multiple occasions "i genuinely cant tell when youre being sarcastic or making a joke because your tone is so flat and your face is so serious and deadpan and usually people will laugh or crack a smile a few seconds after the joke but you just stand there not expressing anything, even after i ask if its a joke because i genuinely cant tell"

YET HE CONTINUES TO FUCKING DO IT and then has the fucking GALL to laugh at me or call me gullible or naive when IM LITERALLY TRYING TO COMMUNICATE!!! bitch how tf am i supposed to know whats a joke and whats real when you act like im asking a fucking statue every time you say a lie or joke

[gamblersdoll]

tw: size kink, sex talk.

when sukuna sees you for the first time as his true form, hes even more in love. he has to look down or even crouch down to your height and is still barely eye level. his arms suffocate you, and his hand is bigger than yours.

hes been waiting for this, holy fuck. he cant get over how small and beautiful you are. he only wondered how strong you could be now? can you even land a single blow on him?

eventually, you did, while using his OWN weapon? how you managed to do that, hes amazed. and youre overtop of him and hes finally healed, but he is still so intrigued by how you are able to do it with his state now.

“you truly are worth my time!” he laughs maniacally, smushing you face in his larger hand. hes so much bigger than you too, that hadnt left his mind during the whole fight, probably why he slightly even doubted you– never again.

so now hes got you in a compromised state, two arms on your hips and two arms on your shoulders. he barely got the tip in, you somewhat suck him in, and hes just… in awe.

your body is just astonishing to him, and hes grinning ear to ear.

“hoo fuck!” hes growling, is he even human? hes not, and he spits a fat glob on your pretty cunt. thats what does it for you, and hes able to get about halfway inside you, your tummy bulging and he sees the outline of his fat dick, dont even remind yourself about the second dick you may have to take either in your cunt or your ass. and thats a whole new level.

hes head over heels, over the moon, debating on would he allow you to boss him around for taking him? your almost at the base of his dick, and what sounds like degradation is him praising you.

“youre such a fucken whore! look at you, takin all of me!”

“im gonna have to be so so gentle, or i might just fuck up your uterus..”

and he’s going so slow as he can, (newsflash, its barely slow!) and youre biting your lip as it slightly hurts because of the sudden stretch, although having experience. hes wiping your tears with his tongue, kissing your cheeks as his belly mouth is eating and lapping up your clit as hes balls deep, so you have some type of lube.

hes laying on top of you after having a strangled climax, only making sure he pulls out and nuts on your tits (he doesnt believe you should take his cum yet, you could barely take a few strokes.) and hes overwhelming.

[kentosbabes]

CEO Toji who hires you as his personal assistant as soon as you step through his office doors. As soon as he looks up at you his breath hitches, you're wearing a blouse that exposes the top of the black lace bra you wear underneath, and you keep pulling down the bottom of your skirt that stops mid-thigh. Your glasses are pushed up to your nose as you look at him so innocently through the lenses.

CEO Toji who doesn't waste any time before saying "You're hired". His rough hand finds you back as he guides you through the glass doors and into your new office, which joins with his. He shows you the ropes of what he wants from you, keeping him on schedule, talking to clients, and completing overall admin tasks etc.

CEO Toji who now can't wait to come to work even though he doesn't show it. As soon as he walks through the front doors of the building, you hand him his morning coffee and go through his schedule for the day with a bright smile on your face. He just smirks down at you watching as you practically have to run to catch up to him as he takes big steps compared to your much smaller ones.

CEO Toji who adores how flustered you get when he calls you pet names. "I have the report you asked for, sir" The words leave your mouth so innocently, but he can't help the bulge in his trousers that begins to make itself present. "thank you pretty girl" his words making your cheeks flush red as you hand him over the papers.

CEO Toji who cant help but stare at you. The view from his desk provides the perfect view of you as you work. He can't hold back the thoughts that plague his mind every time he looks at you. His eyes trail from the curls that fall down your back to the way your back curves and your ass sticks out as you type on your computer. Your glasses falling down your nose and your red lips moving as you pick up the phone.

CEO Toji who hasn't felt this way since his ex-wife was around. He hates the feeling he gets when he sees you talking to Gojo the owner of one of his rival companies. He can't take his eyes off the way your hand grabs onto Gojo's shoulder as you laugh at his jokes, and how Gojo places a soft kiss on your knuckle as he leaves your office flashing a wink to Toji before leaving.

CEO Toji who for the first time in ages takes off his wedding ring every time he sees you. Although his ex-wife wasn't the best and he was the one to divorce her, he always kept on the ring yet he had the urge to destroy it whenever you were in his line of sight.

CEO Toji who admires how kind you are and how easily you're able to make people feel comfortable in your presence. He can't stop the smile that covers his face as he sees you offering doughnuts to your co-workers after a long week. "Hi sir, would you like one?" you ask softly looking up at him, his eyes pierce into yours. "call me Toji love," he says before grabbing a doughnut and biting into it.

CEO Toji who just thinks about how sweet you would taste as he bites into the doughnut. He imagines how your lips would taste of strawberries and sugar, and your soft skin would have a hint of coco as he kisses up your neck. but for now the sweet doughnut will have to do.

CEO Toji who cant help but blur the lines between you two. He sees the glances you give him as he paces up and down his office and how your eyes fix on his lips as he talks to you in the morning. After his last meeting he heads back to his office assuming no one would be there, yet he sees your desk light on as you sit on the couch with your laptop on your thighs presumably still working.

CEO Toji who strolls into your office with a smirk "You waiting for me sweet girl?" he asks watching as you squeal with shock. "sir I didn't know you were back yet" you let out, placing your laptop beside you, and walking towards him. "Toji, please call me Toji no need for formalities ma" You nod your head letting out a quick "Sorry sir" which makes him chuckle.

CEO Toji who places his hand on your cheek bringing your eyes up to meet his. His hands are rough and his hair is a little messy, probably from running his fingers through it from stress. "you're a real cutie aint ya" he says moving your chin slightly to get a proper look at you in the dim lighting. "so pretty" he mumbles his face inching closer to yours "you want it?" you only give him a quick nod, as you practically pool at his feet in his touch.

CEO Toji who tastes of cigarettes and a hint of whiskey as he kisses you. The kiss is rough and sloppy but you don't mind. Your much softer and sweeter lips struggle to match his pace. The mewls and whimpers you let out as he kisses you has him going crazy inside. You want to stop and question what this all means but the way his hands grip on your waist and his lips suck on your own has you too dizzy to think of anything else but him

-repost of this because the tags weren't working for a week and have finally been fixed :)

Part 2 here

Masterlist

[harleys1nhawaii]

USING YOU

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x f!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, 18+ content, degration, humiliation, dabi being an asshole as usual, mocking, petnames etc. not proofread so yeah

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL BABYGIRL LIGHT OF MY LIFE FIRE OF MY LOINS MY ONE AND ONLY SOURCE OF LIGHT IN THIS HELLISH LIFE I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING💙💙💗🎀 lol jokes aside i cant seem to finish none of the fucking drafts i have so tryna save my ass my posting smut. pray for me so i can be productive every once in a while<3

dabi watches you ride him with his hands lazily tucked under his head, his lips curled into a infuriating cocksure grin. he finds it utterly amusing that you — in your cute little head believe that you can get off without his help.

he can feel the way your nails dig in his burnt flesh deeper than necessary, and the way your cunt squeezes in desperation. if he waits just a little more, he’s sure that those tears — you struggle so hard to fight back — will eventually start pouring down.

“damn, look at you going.”

your glare could cut steel, but it only makes him chuckle. he’s been at this for a while, mocking encouraging you too cheekily for your liking. its no. he tilts his head, watching you with those icy blue eyes, half-lidded and lazy, as if this is nothing more than a casual afternoon for him.

"atta girl," he drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "almost looks like you know what you're doing up there."

his mocking encouragement makes your blood boil. you dig your nails into his chest hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks, but the bastard doesn't even flinch. if anything, his cock twitches inside you, and the smug look on his face somehow grows even more insufferable.

"you think this is funny?" you bite out, your voice sharp but trembling, betraying how close you are to breaking.

"oh, sweetheart, i think it's hilarious," he drawls, his tone teasing. "you’re working so hard, too. almost makes me feel bad."

almost.

dabi could be so much crueler. brutal, even. you both know for a damn fact that all it would take to break you further are those scarred, calloused hands — gripping your waist, pressing you down, and holding you still.

you know a man like him — a nasty dog with a sick, sick mind who lives the life for the thrill of it would not hesitate to amplify your torment. it ain’t something he didn’t do before, not in the slightest. and that ridiculous arrogance you were putting on, like you could keep up the facade, only made him more eager to tear it down.

“mhh—ah, fuck!” but then again, you sure were a sight to see. sweat glistening on your delicate, plushy skin. tits bouncing with every jump. your face scrunched into the purest mix of determination and desperation. brows furrowed, eyes squinting with need, lips parting to draw in sharp, ragged breaths.

you’re utterly adorable. and dabi’s stained heart harbors just enough innocence to show mercy. plus the way your tight, spasming walls clutch at his aching cock feels just right to stop it.

"need a hand there, doll?" his smirk deepens, his sharp teeth flashing like a predator toying with its prey.

“nah, you've got this, right? you’re a big girl. don’t let me stop you."

your thighs burn, muscles trembling with the effort, and you can feel the humiliating prick of tears at the corners of your eyes. his cock fits perfectly, the stretch overwhelming but delicious, and yet no matter how much you grind down on him, you're still not there.

but dabi? oh, dabi is patient. he’s the kind of man who takes pleasure in your defiance, only because it makes breaking you so much sweeter. he can see the cracks forming-how your breaths come quicker, how your movements grow more erratic, and how your nails dig into his scarred chest out of sheer frustration.

his tip kisses your cervix with each jump, his girth hitting all the right places, but it's not enough — not without his hands on you, guiding you, wrecking you like only he can.

it’s maddening. his nonchalance, the arrogance that radiates off him like it's his rightful crown. he lays there, sprawled out like he's the king of the damn world, watching you struggle for something only he can give.

and he has every right to be this way. you’ve dug your own grave by bitching that you didn’t need his help to cum, and now you were supposed to lie in it.

you lift yourself until only his tip remains inside before dropping back down, over and over. the motion repeats to the point where your cervix aches, and your walls grow numb from the strain. the slick mess coating both your thighs shines bright like a slap on your face. hours of jumping on his dick — yet still, no one of you has came.

"you done yet?" his tone is syrupy sweet, dripping with sarcasm. "or should i grab a book to pass the time?"

another roll of your hips, hard enough to probably break his dick, and he groans — not loud, but enough to let you know you're affecting him despite his infuriating composure. you think that maybe after this, he’ll decide to shut the fuck up.

though his grin shifts, becoming something darker, more predatory. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you know—you just know—he's about to make it worse.

“careful," he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. "don’t start something you can't finish."

something in his gaze tells you to give up this torture already, and the effort you put into hiding the shiver that runs down your spine fuels his ego more than any words ever could.

“you think you can keep this up?” he raises his brows. the condescending gleam in his azure eyes is enough to shatter whatever remaining confidence is left in you to pretend.

“wanna cum so badly, but all you’re doing is making a mess of yourself on my dick, babe. don’t get mad at me just because you can't finish the job."

you bite back a frustrated whimper, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

“c’mon, doll.” he says just about a whisper. blue orbs shining with authority, far too eager to be considered sane. "what’s it gonna take? you gonna beg me? cry a little, maybe?"

"fuck you," you spit, your voice trembling as you no longer can keep your composure. the tears he predicted begin to well up in your eyes.

"oh, you are, babe." he thrusts up suddenly, and the unexpected movement rips a gasp from your lips. his hands finally leave their lazy position, gripping your hips tight enough to bruise as he slams into you once, twice, stealing your breath. "but you're just not doing it right."

your nails dig into his chest, your pride screaming at you to push him away, but your body betrays you, grinding down harder as his hips meet yours again. the bastard chuckles darkly.

"bet you wish you never started this, huh?" he teases, his voice dripping with malice. "can’t even finish, can't keep up. just a fucking mess."

your head tilts back, a moan slipping from your lips as the tension in your core coils tighter, closer to snapping with every thrust. you try to speak, to retort, but the words get caught in your throat as he fucks into you relentlessly, too deep, too fast, and it's all too much, too overwhelming, too fucking good.

the tears fall freely now, hot against your cheeks, and you bite down on your lip to stifle the sob that threatens to spill from your throat. you can’t fight them anymore—not when he’s balls deep inside your aching cunt, not when the coil in your abdomen boils with need.

“go on babe, beg me.” he chuckles maniacally as he thrusts into you so hard, you’d think it teared past your cervix if you weren’t burning with the need to cum. "i know you want to. i’ll even let you soak me if you ask real nice."

you glare down at him, teeth clenched, but the way his thumb brushes over your bottom lip makes you falter. his grin widens as he sees the defiance in your eyes waver, your body trembling with need.

"say it," he whispers, his voice low and taunting. "and maybe i’ll show you some mercy."

you hate him. you hate him — but the way his fingers dig into your waist and the heat in his gaze make it impossible to resist.

and you know, you just know that he can keep you on his dick for another 2 hours, make you sob and stain the whole bed until you beg him for that very mercy he’s offering you now.

"…please," you choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. it’s so pathetic that your eyes shut close at the sound of it.

for a moment he doesn't say a word, but the dark gleam in his eyes speaks volumes, and that sick, twisted satisfaction blooms on his face.

"good girl," he murmurs, the words dripping with mockery, but there's a faint edge of something else there too — something you don’t wanna inspect. "i knew you'd crack."

he doesn't give you a second to breathe. his hands grip your hips, guiding you to take the pace he wants, setting a brutal rhythm that leaves you no choice but to follow. the way he looks at you, like you're nothing more than a toy for him to play with is sick, and definitely isn’t something that should make your aching pussy clench around him.

“gonna pull some shit like that on me again?” he groans lowly. and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was plotting on your death by the dangerous look he’s giving you.

you shake your head, tears blurring your vision. you know that he thrives on the fright he gives you when his grip on you tightens. the way his cock twitches inside as he watches you sob brokenly.

"see? that’s all you had to do," he coos, his grip forcing you to keep pace with his punishing rhythm. "next time, maybe you'll remember who's in charge, yeah?"

he keeps slamming you down onto him, drawing strangled moans and broken cries from your throat. hips snapping up to meet yours with a punishing rhythm that has your vision blurring. his eyes drink in the sight of you losing every bit of control you had, his smirk softening into something wickedly affectionate.

"come on, baby," he urges, his voice rough and commanding. "give it to me. let me feel you."

and just like that, you shatter—your body convulsing around him, trembling and gasping his name like a prayer with juices gushing all over his dick. he groans at the feeling of you clenching around him, his own release following shortly after as he buries himself as deep as he can go, his grip on you tightening.

when you collapse against his chest, panting and spent, he tilts your chin up with a burnt finger, forcing your wet and lidded eyes meet his gaze.

"next time, don't try to play games you can't win," he murmurs, his voice low and smug, before leaning up to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, sealing his victory.

[strafepanzer]

shoot your shot

k.bakugo | collab intro + m.list

▸ ▸ ▸ warnings: 18+! prohero!bakugo, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, alcohol, dubcon if you really squint

▸ ▸ ▸ wc: idk dude sorry

▸ ▸ ▸ a/n: hbd king! make sure to check out the other writers on the m.list and enjoy!!!

Among the thousands of replies, your pfp caught his eye.

anyone will do, huh?

Bakugo reads over the words a few times. Sure, his alcohol-induced thirst trap selfie was… out of character, but this from you?

Surely, it's an impossibility. He rubs his eyes and falls back into the black, plush leather of his couch, clicking your profile and scrolling through it. You're the quiet girl with the nice tits from insurance, the only person at the agency that he has anything remotely akin to a crush on.

You were there tonight in electric orange and black, stuffed into a booth with the other agency girls; your group sporadically sent him drinks-- those damn daiquiris-- and judging from the laughter pouring out of your booth, you all enjoyed watching him down them.

The one and only Dynamight downing bitch drinks? Hilarious, apparently.

The night got hazy, but he vaguely remembers getting you one-on-one at some point, remembers flashes of your smile, runs of your laughter, and your birthstone pendant hanging on a gold chain just below your collar bone.

Your delicate fingers on his forearm.

His teeth grind together, nostrils flaring as he reads over your words again, fingers flexing before he gropes his bulge. Your voice, seemingly teasing, rings through his brain melodically, but no matter how hard he closes his eyes, he can't remember the interaction.

What did you two talk about? Were you flirting with him? Fuck, did he miss his chance? If he concentrates, he can see the shimmer of your lipgloss reflecting the neon lights in that shitty bar, but everything else is radio silence.

A ding, then a notification flags across the top of his screen: 1 Photo Attached. He taps it and bites his bottom lip.

You're smiling at the camera, winking and throwing up a peace sign in front of expensive looking double doors. Familliar double doors. He recognises the gold embellishments and black glass tinted so dark, its impossible to see through from the outside.

A selfie in front of his apartment building.

Another sound and,

Typing…

Typing…

Typing…

Appears in the chat. He feels stupid just waiting, but if you're really coming onto him, he needs to not scare you away.

gonna buzz me up, mr hero?

He's on his feet at an almost embarrassing speed, unlocking the front door and sending you his floor and room number in the chat.

Then, he paces, pours himself a glass of water, and waits.

Your knock is faint, and he wonders if you've sobered up some, briefly hesitating at the doorknob. He looks through his spyhole and sees you looking this way and that, shifting nervously and fiddling with your hair.

He tugs the door open and leans against it, eyes staring you down. You blink and take a short breath, eyes scanning his naked torso, briefs, muscular thighs--

He clears his throat. "You look nervous."

Your eyes on his leave him a little starstruck. Sure, youre pretty to admire from afar, but up close? He's stupid for getting wasted and forgetting what he said to you.

"Liquid courage has thoroughly worn off." You agree with a nod and a nervous yet dazzling smile.

Fuck, he's so done for.

"Just to be clear, you hit me up." Bakugo says, opening the door and giving you space to enter. "I'm not holding you here against your will."

"What? No, yeah, I totally take the blame on this, one million percent." You agree, stepping into his apartment. He watches your ass in that tight dress as you walk past him, savours the scent of your perfumed skin while you're in his vicinity. "I just thought-- oh my gods," you turn to face him, embarrassed. "This is ridiculous, isn't it? I thought you were like... sending me signals at the bar."

He probably was, but he cant fucking remember.

He gestures for you to follow him into the living room. "I was wasted."

"You grabbed my ass and called me sexy." You laugh, kicking off your heels before stepping onto his carpet.

"Fat fuckin chance, sugar tits." He grumbles, embarrassed by his drunken antics, but then you're grabbing his hand and tugging him back half a step. Before he can even gasp, your lips are on his, your hands pulling him down to you, your tongue running along his lips.

"Yeah, you called me that, too." You breathe, nose to nose as you stare into his eyes.

His hands finally find your waist. "I didn't think you'd be this forward."

"This is how forward you were with me at the bar." You frown then, head tilting to the side. "You honestly don't remember? Now I feel like a predator."

He laughs, then, something full bodied and joyous. "Trust me, sweetheart, you're the prey here."

All logical thinking flies out the window the moment his lips meet yours again. Your bag drops to the floor as he devours you, hands bunching up that little orange dress at your waist and lifting you to wrap your legs over his hips.

You moan when he grinds his length up against you. "Oh my god, are we doing this?" You ask, his mouth assaulting your neck, littering it with kisses and nips as he walks you to his bedroom.

"It's my birthday," he rasps, revelling in the taste of you, the feel of you. It's one thing coveting something, but it's another to finally have it in your hands.

"Happy Birthday, Katsuki." You kiss him on the top of his head, wrapping your arms a little tighter around his neck.

"Being cute isn't gonna make me go any easier on you." He promises, dropping you onto his bed. You just laugh and pull your dress over your head, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra.

"I came prepared to go down on you, but this kinda feels like you want a little more from me." You admit as he tugs off his briefs and covers you with his body.

"What gave you that idea?" He grins, palming your tits and dragging those battle worn hands down your soft torso to rest at your hips. "You sure you're okay with this?"

"What? Yes." You breathe, reaching down to ghost your fingers over his throbbing cock. He hisses before you grip it properly, with purpose, and begin pumping him slowly with your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Fuck," he curses softly, making light work of your panties and kissing you, bucking instinctually up into your hands. "I need to be inside you," he demands huskily, biting down on your lip and looking into your eyes for permission.

"Y-yeah, I want it," you nod feverishly as his fingers test your wet heat, rubbing and probing before sliding in.

"Shit," he huffs as you throw your head back, his fingers exploring you and stretching you out. "Fuck, I can't wait, are you good to go?"

"Stop talking and fuck me, Katsuki," you moan, laying there with your chest heaving and lipstick smudged.

His hands grope your thighs, pushing them up and opening yourself to him. With a curse at the tip of his tongue and his teeth in his bottom lip, he lines himself up and pushes forward.

"Oh--" you moan, before your hand slaps over your mouth.

Bakugo let's you silence yourself while he adjusts to the toe tingling feeling of being inside you. It's heavenly, but it feels like sinning. He pulls back a little before pushing forward, notices your free hand fisting his scarlet sheets beside your head.

After a few more testing thrusts and he stills inside you, his body covers yours, those big, calloused hands drawing up your forearms to interlock your fingers beside your head.

"I wanna hear you cry while I ruin you, pretty girl. You okay with that?" He asks lowly, voice almost a growl.

"Fuck, oh fuck, Katsuki it's so big," you babble, bordering incoherent already.

A feral grin grows on his face. He's gonna fuck you stupid.

"It's okay, baby, you can take it, I know you can," he mumbles condescendingly, kissing your nose gently, then your lips. "As a present, for my birthday."

He can't wait any longer, hips rocking into you, shallowly grinding, searching for that spot deep inside you that makes you moan. You're already gasping, eyes watering as your mouth hangs open, fingers flexing in his grip as your chest starts to heave.

You really are gorgeous like this, panting and wanton beneath him. Ideally, he'd make you cum a few times before he does, but he's been half mast all fucking week, and he really can't wait to fill you up.

"Sorry, baby, I can't hold back anymore." He kisses you deeply, before letting go of your hands and pushing your legs up, hands gripping the backs of your knees, then bruising at your thighs.

He licks his lips, pulls out, and hammers back in. You yelp, but he does it again, setting a pace that wouldn't be sustainable for your average man. It boosts his ego that he's gonna ruin other people for you, but the little breathy ohmygodkatsukifuck that leaves your lips while you scratch at his back is probably going to ruin other women for him.

Shit, your smell, the way you taste and feel-- you're sucking him back in when he tries to pull out, pussy hellbent on milking him before he's done with you. He kisses you while he fucks you, sloppy and messy and wet, and in moments you're a howling mess.

He swallows your cries as your whole body tenses, but he doesn't let himself cum with you, fucking you through it instead.

"Nonononononono..." you mutter, fingernails digging into his traps as you shake your head, pushing him away. "Stop stop, I'm gonna--"

Bakugo's heart flutters, grin feral. "Gonna what? Gonna what?" He grits, continuing to fuck you.

"Gonna-- hnghh!" You tense again, and as he fucks back into you, hot, wet squirt splashes against his groin, dripping all over the both of you and darkening those scarlet sheets maroon.

"Oh shit," he breathes, the feeling of it, the sight of you, the sound of his wet skin slapping against yours sending him over the edge as he fucks his cum into you, filling you up.

You're still mumbling incoherent nonsense when he collapses on top of you, your hands over your face in what he comes to realise is mortification.

"I'm s'sorry, oh my god, what was that? I'm so embarrassed, I--"

"Hey hey hey, are you crying?" He frowns prying your fingers from your face.

"I wet the bed in front of you!" You almost shriek, but he's just glad you're not crying. "Not just any guy, but you!"

"Yeah, and it was the hottest thing ever." He grins, feeling calm for the first time in a long time. "Fuck, I don't even care how the PR team are gonna react; getting you to squirt on me makes it worth it. I'm guessing you don't do that often?"

"Often? I never do that."

"Baby, that was hot as hell." He kisses you, then rolls over, bringing you with him.

"Happy Birthday, I guess?" You smile then, resting on his chest, drawing a finger over one of his more jaggered scars. "You don't remember what you said to me at the bar, do you?"

"I remember your tits?" He shrugs, still riding that post-orgasmic high. You laugh, and when you don't elaborate, he taps your chin so you look up at him. "What did I say?"

You start getting a little shy again. "You asked me on a date, said you were gonna take me somewhere, anywhere I want."

"I did, did I?"

"Mm, then you kissed me and claimed it was your birthday present from me."

"Fuck off," he chuckles then, embarrassed. "What a loser."

"Then I saw your... proposition online..." You mumble, eyes back on that scar.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm deleting that post, but my offer to you still stands."

"Even though you don't remember making it?"

"Baby, I just filled you with my cum, and I'm feeling like I'd like to do it again real fuckin soon. And maybe even again after that." He pulls you closer, so you're straddling him properly, your lips hovering over his. "If you'll let me."

"I don't know if that's your twisted way of asking me out or if you're looking for a fuck buddy." You pout.

"You wanna be my girlfriend?" He asked, slightly shocked at the thought. Shocked, but not against it.

"Yeah, I do." You smile, that so pretty smile.

"Well shit, when are you moving in?" He asks, half joking.

You laugh, kissing him on the cheek. "Shut up, do you mean it? You really wanna date me?"

"Yeah, I do." He says, heart hammering in his chest.

"Good, thats-- that's good."

"It is, isn't it? Now that we have that outta the way," he sits up, keeping you in his lap. "Round 2 in the shower?"

"You'll have to carry me, I still can't feel my legs." You smile.

"Maybe the bitch drinks weren't such a bad idea, after all." Bakugo grins, pulling you close in a slow, deliberate kiss.

[domoriu]

thinking about jaehyun… who just needs to be filled up all the time like the whore he is.

cw. smut mdni ! sub!jaehyun gn!reader, anal play & toys used on jaehyun

the boy was so cockdrunk, no matter what you did he’d somehow always want more. your lubed up fingers stretching his hole out while he trembles under your touch.

“more, more” he pokes his ass out as a way to convince you, you’re already three fingers deep and you know at this rate he’d probably want all of your fingers.

sliding your fingers out of the boy, you decide he’s prepped enough for the dildo you had bought just for him. he whimpers at the loss of contact, burying his face into the pillows while he waits for you to lube up the silicone before pressing it against his hole.

jaehyun loves being filled up. ever since the first time he tried it with you he just knew he’d want to be filled up all the time. and then he started getting greedy, needing more and more — longer, thicker, harder, he doesn’t even need to touch his cock in order to cum when you fuck him, abusing his prostate until he’s making a mess all over the sheets, your hands, and his tummy.

like now, tears fill jaehyuns waterline as he squirms. he can’t move much with the way you have him tied to a chair, stuffed to the hilt with a dildo suctioned to the seat. every time he moves the silicone moves in him, rubbing against his walls so deliciously. the pleasure he was feeling is only amplified with the vibrating cock ring you put on him, bucking his hips into the air. he cant tell where his last orgasm ends and his next one starts, but he can’t complain when it feels so good.

“be a good boy and fuck my hand, hyunnie” your words ring through his ears and he barely hears you, but he’s still attentive even when he’s so overstimulated. he looks down and sees your hand so close to his cock, tip red and leaking and practically begging for your touch. he does what he’s told, raising his hips so his cock fits into the O shape you have your hand in, sliding against the skin before moving back down.

he can barely handle all the stimulation, the drag of his cock against your hand with each raise of his hips mixed with the way he sinks back down onto the cock inside of him, stretching him out so good and deep, and then the low vibrations from the cock ring were just so much for him. he wouldn’t be able to last much longer, and you coo at his dazed state.

“mmph, cum- gonna cum-“ jaehyun bites his lip, trying to distract himself from the way you stare at him and how he can hear the sounds from his skin making contact with the bottom of the chair.

“that’s it, cum all over my hand baby… make a mess for me” and with a tight squeeze around his cock he’s cumming, bottoming out around the silicone toy as he drips all down your hand. he grinds his hips as he rides his orgasm out, slowly coming back to reality through his blurred vision. you tsk when his hips come to a stop, using your free hand to pinch his outer thigh and he yelps.

“ah ah, dont slow down. i know you can take some more, cant you? my little slut can take all that i give him, right?”

for @zynz0 …. im feeling evil rn 🙂‍↕️ this is kinda formatted weird sorry i hope its still good <3 🤓

also !!! do you guys fw gn!reader… i feel like if its focused on the idol mainly then adding fem reader isnt too important :3

[princesssmars]

i'd love just about anyone, so why was it you?

a victoria neuman x reader

your talent for singing is finally starting to take you places in the city of lights. so why did it have to introduce you to a woman who might ruin it all?

wc : 10.248

contains : fxf relationship. readers hair and skin aren't described. fluff. angst.nsfw including sex and language. the french. barely proof-read.

a/n : i cant believe there are no fics for this fine ass woman yet but i am nothing but a pioneer idk. in my daydreams this was like mafia au victoria but i literally never write or dream of those so i opted out lmao. go watch gen v. everyone always talks about how good the cover is but nonante-cinq by angele is a beautiful album so i recommend listening to that for french vibes. enjoy <3

it was the most stereotypical and overplayed song ever, but damn did you love la vie en rose.

just the concept of the song was romantic to you. to live every day like it would be magnificent, like you could know a day would be your last and look back at it and not regret a single thing. it meant looking at the world with a positivity that these days was mostly faked or artificial.

after the life you've lived, the things you've seen firsthand, you need that positive light in your life more than anything else. especially right now, as your manager is hounding you over the phone about your next gig.

now you loved your manager, nancy, you really did. she took you in and was honest when no one else would be, stood by you when no one else wanted to give you a real chance. but sometimes it felt like she didn't really believe in you. obviously, she believed you had talent, or else she would have 'left you in the dust for the rats to pick apart,' in her own words. it was almost like she couldn't fathom that what you had was real, like you didn't truly deserve all the things that were coming to you.

but as long as you were paying her, she didn't bother to speak up on it.

you were listening to her drone on and on into the speaker from your phone, holding the object up to your ear with one hand as you hold a menu to order something from the cafe waitress who's waiting beside you.

"ill have an uhhhh... le marie antoinette, and a coffee with sugar and cream please," you hand the menu to the waitress after she writes down your order, heading back into the cafe with a smile. this cafe was one of your favorites, nestled below an apartment building in one of the inner city arrondissements so you could sit outside beneath an umbrella and admire the city before you. "nancy, i don't see why i can't just...politely turn it down? it sounds like it's a glorified pin-up girl gig, le bellevilloise is offering for me to sing there exclusively for three months-"

"no, that's what im trying to tell you if you'd let me finish." you can hear nancy's telltale sigh through the phone. she had a short temper when she was stressed, something you sadly had in common, and you could hear her clicking a pen through the receiver. "this is an international gala slash fundraiser, attended by the one percent of the one percent. billionaires, senators, diplomats, everything. the event organizer asked for you specifically, so turning it down is a bad look. aka, you're doing it. go out and get a pretty dress. ill send you more details later."

the phone shut off and you let out a huff of air, crossing your right leg over your left beneath the table. once you have your meal and bite into your pastry you can't help but close your eyes at how good it tastes; the combination of the crunch of the macarons, the near-overwhelming sweetness of the cream, and the savory juice that leaks from the raspberries never gets old.

you don't know how you feel about this whole gala thing. sure its a great way to make connections and earn a fat stack of cash that will probably last you few weeks, but you've learned before that the people that you most admire, celebrities, politicians, even superheroes, can't be trusted. and being in a room full of them to perform wasn't at the top of your christmas wish list.

but like everyone else in the world, you were finding money hard to pass up on. just by the lowball nancy told you, you'd be able to comfortably pay the next month's rent and fix up your electric scooter, maybe even enough to save up for that beautiful flat you saw online with the grand windows and nice floor plan.

it'd only be a few hours of singing and kissing up to a bunch of snobs and you'd be done. easy peasy.

finding a dress wasn't to hard. your modeling connections from before you started to focus on singing gave you access to a few, good quality clearance pieces for your picking. you figure that the people you were performing for would prefer something classy and elegant, so you picked out a sleeveless black dress with black opera gloves, accessorized by a diamond necklace and earrings. one of your stylist friends, alex, who you asked to help do up your hair told you 'you're definitely gonna shag a rich man looking like this, just ask them if they have any friends for me!' and after a quick 'please don't wish that upon me' and a spritz of perfume you were ready.

the hours before you got on stage were nothing short of both nerve-racking but exhilarating. you rode in a standard taxi, your slight jitters noticed by the slightly balding man in the front. he eyes you pretty oddly when you got in the car before using you if you were a model, telling you that his daughter would like an autograph if you were. you felt slightly flustered when you had to tell him you weren't, but gave him some tips to tell his daughter if she wanted to pursue it. after around twenty minutes of driving through the city the car stops and you're escorted by a crew member into a grand building, those types you pass by and dream of getting the chance just to step into.

after that its a rush of meeting the event planner who gives you another run down of the evening and then meeting with the band members, a nice group of jazz players who you had heard about on the news for their blends of old and new methods of performing music. they played you a piece on their instruments in their dressing room, and it felt like hanging out with old friends listening to tunes as one twirled you around and the others laughed and the air felt warm and fuzzy.

later its time for your set, where you'll sing as the guests come in and take occasional breaks to save your breath and let whoever is hosting this talk. so you get up on your mini stage, make sure you look alright and you're in tune with the band, and then you do what you do best.

you've never felt better than how you do while you sing. every time you do so you tell a story, tales of success and tragedy and love and heartache. while you sing your favorite thing to do is to admire the crowd. when you were younger it gave you horrible stage fright, but as you grew up and saw just how much people loved your voice it made you confident, if not the tiniest bit narcissistic.

as you look out at the guests of tonight you see what's expected. important and powerful men donned in suits, their wives standing on their arms in glamourous gowns, you swear that you even see some fairly famous celebs in the mix, and they were all listening intently to you and your voice.

and that's when you saw her. near the back of the room with a glass of red wine in her hand, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, and darker eyes trained on you. in this profession you get used to people staring at you for hours on end, but something about this woman unnerves you slightly.

a short while later your set is over and after a round of applause the organizer tells you to enjoy yourselves, and that you're free to indulge in whatever food is left. after a brief touch-up in the dressing room and making sure you look presentable, you head out to get yourself something to eat. you keep getting stopped by people telling you how beautiful your performance was, how they'd love to get in contact with your agent to book you for future events, and your regular dose of creepy old guys hitting on you. but besides that things were going pretty well.

some servers were waking around with trays of champagne, but you figured since everything was complimentary you would treat yourself to something stronger. you head to the bar and order yourself a strong cocktail, and as soon as you finish your order a figure sits on the stool next to yours.

"get me a scotch on the rocks, thanks."

you glance at them from the corner of your eye and feel your heart beat faster when you see

it's the woman from before. from this close distance, you can admire her entirely, and god is she gorgeous. she looks so put together, not a hair out of place, and wearing a perfectly tailored suit that makes you guess she's some kind of wealthy businesswoman.

after not so secretly checking her out, she turns her body towards you and looks at you with a smile.

"im sure you already know, but you have an enchanting voice."

you look down bashfully, thinking the same about her. she speaks like she's so sure of what she's saying like there's no room for debate or argument.

"thank you. no matter if i know or not, it doesn't take much to make me a little nervous every time i perform."

the bartender brings over both of your drinks and she tilts hers to you.

"trust me, theres no need. you're nothing but a natural, one of the best singers i've ever heard."

"ah, now you're exaggerating. is there a reason you're complimenting me like you're being paid to do so?"

she shakes her head, setting down her glass of liquor with a clink. "not anything nefarious, if that's what you're thinking. just glad i get to talk to a beautifully talented woman."

jeez, she was laying it on thick. normally this was coming from some fifty-year-old man with greasy skin and weird teeth, but it felt nice coming from her. she was obviously gorgeous, leaving her body language open in case you wanted to decline and she would walk away in a moment's notice.

"im glad i get to talk to you too, miss?"

"victoria. its a pleasure to talk to you, miss y/n."

for around an hour or two the both of you sat at that bar, blocking out the fake laughs of investors and boisterous noises of people who got a little too friendly with the free champagne. she was so attentive to you. asking about what got you into singing and what brought you to paris by your non-native accent. you normally kept the finer details of your past a close-guarded secret, but you figured there couldn't come any harm from telling this attractive stranger a few things about yourself before never seeing her again.

"you're telling me at only sixteen years old, you flew to paris by yourself and made a living for yourself? you've got balls on you, sister."

"yeah yeah, but im nothing special. i just got tired of all the bullshit in the u.s., y'know? the greed, the cynicism, the-"

"superhero bullshit?"

you giggled while she smirked, observing your smile and how it made your eyes squinch.

"well i wouldn't put it like that but...superheros? really? its just, they make it so american, in a really really annoying way. i just couldn't deal with that being a reality. and where better than paris? it seems like voughts all but forgotten about it recently, thank god.”

"i understand. and i know we just met, but it does suit you. 'beautiful runaway finds passion, life, and love in the city of lights'. best cliche there is."

"and what a damn good cliche it is to be. although i haven't been that lucky on the love front."

her eyebrow raises and her nail traces around the rim of her glass.

"im sorry but i simply cant believe that. someone like you would have people lining up for a chance to talk to you, let alone date you."

you dryly chuckle before taking another long swig of your glass of champagne, dancing just on the edge of being intoxicated. you understood why everyone else was drinking this, it was sweet but strong.

"people have tried, of course. but sadly most of my escapades end in tragedy. very melodramatically. but enough about me, I'm guessing this isn't gonna go my way and you have someone waiting for you at home?"

"im offended you still think so low of me. but no, there was someone but it didn't work out. now its just me and my daughter."

god, she was a milf. if there was a god you prayed he would let you get lucky tonight.

"well, im sorry to hear it didnt work out."

"are you really?"

she looks at you with a smirk on her face.

"no, im not."

that was all she needed to ask you to come back with her to her hotel.

and not just any hotel, she was rich enough to be spending two weeks in the damn ritz. asking again what she did for a living didn't get you very far, the only hint you got being that it helped her change the world. ominous but whatever. it had to be legitimate if she was invited to that gala.

the cautious and common sense side of you is snuffed out for the night the moment she set her hand over the covered skin of your thigh in the car, the feeling of her hand on your lower back leading you through the pristine lobby of the hotel, that same hand helping you take off your dress and take you apart slowly over the rest of the night.

when you wake up the sun is peeking through the curtains, the softness of the sheets your laying on calling you back to sleep before you get up and look around.

you only got a few seconds to admire the room last night before victoria was on you, and now in the light of day you could truly take everything in. you find a note left by the woman, letting you know she had to leave temporarily for an important job thing and that she'd be back my lunch, inviting you to call up room service and enjoy the room intil then.

you were expecting for her to tell you to pack your shit up and go, so despite the oddness this was a nice surprise. besides, there was no way you were gonna pass up on ordering a five-star breakfast you didnt have to pay for.

after indulging in a meal brought by room service and finding ways to pass the time, you text your manager after she happily lets you know that your night was a success and that your payment should be cleared shortly. while you're in the middle of wondering if you should answer her query about the host wondering where you wandered off to last night, the sound of a door opening makes your head jerk towards the small entry area, victoria coming in through the doorway dressed in a tan suit and carrying a large black briefcase on her arm.

"ah, youre still here!,” she sets her bag on a glass table near the door and strides into the room, eyes connected with yours the whole time. you weren’t feeling nervous before, but under her gaze you wonder if maybe you should have taken that free meal along with some tiny soaps from the bathroom and headed back home.

“yeah, figured i’d stick around for whatever. besides, i had to stay and blame you for my manager thinking i got kidnapped.”

“i’ll make sure to apologize and send her an edible arrangement. besides, i hope to take up more of your time in the future.”

your eyes bulge so hard you’re sure you look like a moron. you cover it up by getting up to get yourself another cup of coffe from the tray the food came in on.

“well i should’ve guessed this was more than a one night stand when you allowed me to order up breakfast. but now i have to admit i’m slightly scared you’re actually plotting to traffick me.”

"trust me, that wouldn't be good for business. id just like to see you some more, if that would be alright with you.

was that an actual question? after the night you had and the way she’s been treating you, you didn’t see much of a choice except to say yes.

she tells you that a few hours later she has a flight back to america, but that she wouldn't mind spending the day with you if you're free. you agree to get a little bite to eat and it turns into a whirlwind day of showing her around the city you call your home. she has to wear giant sunglasses the whole time and have a mysterious security detail not too far behind, but you wouldn't change anything about it.

at the end of it all, she bids you goodbye in front of your taxi, admiring the cute outfit she bought for you so you wouldn't have to go home in your dress from the night prior, promising that she'll keep in touch with you once she gets settled in back a new york, jokingly telling you she'll send you a postcard. as you sit in the back of the taxi, your heart inflates a little as you take in the events of the last day. you never liked to mix business with pleasure in this way, partly because most of those business people were gross perverts and also that it could damage your career beyond repair, but with victoria you can't help but think that it was worth it.

eventually, a few days pass by, and the only calls you've gotten are from friends congratulating on what they heard was another great performance. and as nice as all the praise and the new gigs you started to get felt, the longer you heard no word back from victoria, it started to eat away at you inside.

back at your favorite cafe you sit with two of your oldest friends, jamie and chloe, as they ramble about the details of their changing lives and jobs. you don't know when you zoned out but eventually, chloe's manicured finger lightly pokes at your cheek, giggling when you make a playful motion to bite it.

"where'd you go just now? take me with you before jamie keeps talking about his new lover."

"hey!" jamie pouts, "you're just jealous because i've been regularly having passionate sex allll night long while you're still vying over your boss." you hear a shocked gasp behind him and you all turn to see an elderly couple looking at jamie like he's said the most blasphemous thing they've ever heard.

"really classy, james." you snort.

"what the hell! you're supposed to be on my side! everyone has noticed how you've been in a better mood since that gala. alex told us how they checked up on you afterwise and you showed up a day later with a new outfit and a hickey on your neck."

"that is- god, that’s so intrusive and so like them,” you rolled your eyes. you knew as soon as alex saw you that morning that they’d be gossiping to everyone about the state they saw you in. “and i don’t kiss and tell like that. at least not in public like this.”

“ok, so we’ll stop by your place tonight with some wine and talk all about it tonight. agree?”

“what? no-”

“agree!” chloe beams and shakes hands with jamie across the table, blowing you kisses before leaving her share of the bill on the table and leaving with some excuse of having to be somewhere. you glare at jamie as a warning before he gives you a kiss on the cheek and does the same. you grumble before biting into your muffin.

a few hours later you’re sitting on your soft sofa with jamie’s head in your lap and chloe on the other side, talking and laughing about old stories from your jobs. you take a sip of merlot right before jamie brings up what you were hoping they’d forgotten about by now.

“ok ok, enough chatter. seriously, chlo, you cackle like a seagull. y/n, when are you going to tell us about this mystery lover of yours? do you need another glass of wine to start talking?”

“don’t even think about pouring me another glass. look, there’s not much to say, ok? i was singing, she was staring at me from across the bar, we flirted a little, that was it!”

they stared.

“you want more?”

“how could we not? we haven’t seen you like this with anyone! not since we took you on that tourist tour on the seine!”

that…that took you for a spin. you remembered it clear as day, them tugging you along when they’d heard since you came to paris you’d been focusing on building up your image and working. it was more a joke, but the lights of the boat, the sky and the lights made you feel like you were in the most perfect moment of your life. hearing them compare that to how you looked now had a nervous feeling building in your gut.

“we spent the night together. and it was…good. really good. she let me stay while she went out, bought me a new outfit then said she’d be in touch.”

your friends are silent. way too silent. you’re afraid they’re about to laugh and judge you before they’re squealing and tackling you, pulling back when you groan after you almost spill your wine on your clothes.

"god, why are you always the lucky one? this isn't fair! at all!" chloe groans while dramatically resting her head on your shoulder, jamie still giggling as the wine clearly starts to take an effect on him. "please, please tell us what happens next before i scream."

"no thats- i mean, thats it. so far. for now." you stutter along your words as your friends' faces go blank yet again, except this time without a hint of a chuckle or smile.

"what the hell do you mean 'that's it.'? she ghosted you?" jamie gasps.

"no, she didnt ghost me-"

"sweetheart, im sorry to say this but you have been ghosted. in a really dickhead way."

"its not like that! she's a busy person with a serious job and a kid and responsibilities!"

you briefly hear chloe snicker "milf?" before you roll your eyes.

"she's gonna contact me. and even if she doesn't, maybe it was just a nice one-time thing! everyone knows I'm great at those."

jamie snickers before chloe smacks his shoulder in a second.

"why? why did you laugh?"

they share a look before she smacks his shoulder again.

"would you stop? i have pains, you know this. but y/n, we know you. we love you. but your latest stints haven't been...the most successful. or left you in the best headspaces."

"he's right, honey. remember the last girl, hannah? one of the worst situationships i've ever seen. you told us you would be alright when she broke it off and then we found you at that lousy bar at eleven in the morning..."

you start biting at your lip. there was nothing you hated more than when they told you the truth about how you could act. it wasn't your fault that all the time your relationships got messy, or that you got attached a little quickly. people didn't understand but a life like yours could be lonely. standing up on a stage and performing for people who want you to do just that and only that: sing and look like a glamourous pin-up doll. most of the time its the other performers who even bother to ask if your throat is alright after singing for hours.

so yes, sometimes you rushed into relationships. and you might have done it again in the dumbest way possible.

"i just...she let me stay after, y'know? and she came back and brought me with her again. why go through that effort just to leave me behind like trash?" your friends pouted before closing in to comfort you, rubbing your back and giving you small affirmations.

for a month you go into a rut. unless it's performing or going to the dentist for a checkup you don't leave your house. you become pretty good acquaintances with the grocery delivery boy, benny, who started panicking when he realized he forgot one of your items until you assured him it was fine. it wasn't the first time you'd grown so oddly attached to a romantic prospect, and it wasn't the first time you'd gotten hurt by it. you spend your time moping on your couch and binge-watching your favorite show for the third time when your phone buzzes from beside you.

nancy schmancy : call me.

you rolled your eyes. she could have just called you in the first place, but no. she had to be extra about it. you press the call button and don't have to wait even five seconds for her voice to ring in your ear.

"do you want to know what mister barbier just emailed me?"

"i think you already have that answer for me."

"he said, and i quote, 'tell y/n i send my best wishes. her performance last night was hauntingly beautiful, and i'm hoping it was one of her greatest acts yet.'"

"if you ask me, it sounds like i did a pretty good job."

"it sounds like he thought you were singing your damn suicide note!" she groaned, and you could hear her face scrunching from over the phone. "i don't know what is going on with you recently, and i don't want to sound insensitive, but if you can't manage to keep your work and personal life separate, even i can't help you make it far in this business. clients may say they want you to be expressive but they only mean so far. unhappy music means unhappy customers, capeche?"

"i understand, nancy. ill send a personal apology to mister barbier."

"good. ill call you soon to let you know about any new gigs. take care of yourself. seriously."

the line clicks and you toss your phone onto the couch and take another sip of sauvignon blanc from your rose-shaped wine glass. it pained you to admit it, but nancy had a point. if you kept letting yourself mope in your feelings you'd run out of people who wanted you to sing, and if the point came where you were out of gigs...you didn't even want to think about it. if you weren't singing you weren't living.

only a few hours after that call you manage to get back to normal. you go out and get your own groceries, deciding to indulge yourself and buy the ingredients for some recipe you saw online months ago. one of your clients cries at your performance, ecstatically telling you they'll be in talks with your manager to set up a stable contract. things really start to look up. two weeks later you even manage to get the number of a cute girl, elise, a tall woman with dyed hair who reached for the same vintage music box as you at an open market.

you're smiling as you look down at the messy ink on a slip of paper, the numbers and tiny smily face distracting you as you enter the hallway to your apartment. so distracted that you nearly trip over a object on the floor, looking down to see...a bouquet?

a really gorgeous bouquet you notice as you bend over to pick it up. its a collage of dusty blues and off-colored ivories, and when you brought it closer to your nose for a whiff you felt a sense of bliss. you bring it into your apartment with a skip in your step before you spot a piece of paper among the flowers, plucking it from the collection and reading it over.

upon closer inspection, you can see its a postcard, the cover a flattering shot of the statue of liberty with text that reads "love from new york city!". you try to calm your heart down at the location and the 'love' part, but you've already gotten your hopes up when you turn the card around to read the message:

xxx-xxx-xxxx

sorry for the wait. i'll make it up to you, angel.

you'd never felt so conflicted as you did in the past five seconds. half of you was vindicated that yes, this attractive woman didnt leave you high and dry and did actually have a deeper interest in you, but the other part was angry. and embarrassed that you were angry, because again, you spent less than a day with this woman, she didn't owe you anything. but also yes the hell she did.

before you could get yourself together you were harshly tapping the number into your cell, biting at your lip as the phone slowly rings.

"y/n, is that you?" echoes from the line, victorias voice sounding and running over your head like soft silk. no, no, stop it. focus.

"howd you know it was me? im sure you have other people who'd be calling you this late."

"certainly not anyone with a phone number from paris. besides, i was hoping it'd be you."

"well, i would have been flattered two weeks ago but unfortunately i dont think your words could phase me right now."

she sighs and the line goes silent. you feel bad for being catty for a few seconds before you brush it off. she's the one who played with your emotions and promised to call you but never did. she had this coming.

"im sorry, really i am. i've been busy with things at work and my daughter-"

damn it, she pulled the kid card again.

"i just...dont like being lied to. or led on. maybe its my fault for beeing too clingy-"

"no, no. dont apologize. if it means anything youve been on my mind for weeks now."

"yeah, same here. except my thoughts havent been all that nice." you laugh.

"deserved. and id like to make it up to you."

"oh yeah? let me guess, this time we'll spend two nights together?"

"close. how about two weeks. in new york."

you don't know if you should laugh. you feel like you should, so you do. but she isn't.

"you...you're being serious."

"im being serious."

what do you even say? what do you even do? of course, whatever higher power there is would make your life stable and steady for the past few months then throw this in to shake you up. you really should have been expecting it, considering...

you shake yourself back to the present. victoria is still waiting on the other line, unwilling to rush you into a decision, apparently. you'd applaud her for her chivalry if you weren't so stunned.

"victoria, come on. we've only met once, and while it was nice it was brief. now you want me to upend my life and career to jet off to america? it sounds crazy."

"you make me a bit crazy, honestly. besides, you were telling me in bed you haven't been in the states since you left, i have a feeling you miss it more than you let on."

you shuffle in your spot, reminded that you're standing in your cold-ass kitchen and you haven't changed out of the outfit you wore out today. but half of your uncomfortableness is from a feeling gnawing at your chest because she's right. at this point you can barely remember the night you left your childhood home, but you know it was rushed. you wanted to forget everything.

"i think you're also forgetting that i have a blossoming career here. are you gonna pay my definitely going to be pissed off manager her wages? plus i was supposed to be first pick for this really good gig-"

"i'll pay for everything, i promise. dont forget that i have connections. in two weeks they''ll be singing you praises across the globe."

you close your eyes and take in a breath.

"can you make my ticket first class?"

-

one thing you didnt miss about america? just how...much everything was, all the time.

your flight was quiet. victoria didnt hesitate to book you an expensive ticket, almost taking offense to your request for a nice one and scheduling you for business class, sending you a text to get lots of rest in the ultra-luxe beds on the plane. it was probably one of the best nights sleeps you'd had in months.

when you got off the plane there were two tall escorts holding a sign with your last name on it, taking the suitcases from your hands before you could say anything and leading you into a sleek black car. a voice in the back of your head starts screaming but you ignore it. for now.

the men in the car give you some basic rundowns, how they'll constantly be hovering over you during your stay for your "protection", and that they'll be taking you to settle into a hotel until victoria makes contact, and the little voice starts freaking out again and telling you that you've slept with and are fraternizing with a mob boss. at least it's more exciting than your last few flings.

the car goes silent after that, and you put in your earbuds as you watch the city go by. you weren't from new york, but you loved watching movies set in the bustling cityscape. the buildings really are humongous, and you see so many different types of people it sets your brain on a whirlwind.

you look back down at your phone after the fifth 'the seven' advertisement in one block.

yet again you're led into a clearly extremely expensive hotel, breezing through reception before you are led to a luxuriant hotel room, the bodyguards ignoring you as you giggle and flop onto the bed, waving them off when they tell you they'll be posted outside.

the sheets feel heavenly on your skin, and with the soft sunshine from the window beaming down on you and the gentle hustle and bustle of new york outside, you think you could fall asleep in a minute. but, begrudgingly, you peel yourself form the bed and open your suitcase to start putting your clothes away before taking a quick shower in the giant bathtub.

just as you exit the shower and wrap your body in a towel, your phone starts ringing and as soon as you read the 'v' in the contact name you push answer and bring it to your ear.

"hello? vic?"

"hey, hon. eager to talk to me?"

"you called me. and 'hon'? really? we've moved to petnames already?"

"figured id start making up for those weeks with no contact. and id like to do so again tonight. i wanna bring you somewhere."

your mouth quirks up in a smile as you re-adjust the towel around your body, the phone nearly slipping from its quick placement between your phone and ear, "id really like that. i hope its out to dinner, i didnt care to eat any of the plane food."

“yes, it’s to dinner. but its up to you if you want it to be fancy or casual. i know its tacky but there’s this pretty cute french place near where i live...”

“that vaguely sounds like an invitation to your place, but ill let it slide. are you gonna pick me up or are your special agents going to escort me everywhere for the next few weeks?”

“special agents? what agents?”

a bead of water drips from your neck down your back and it feels like the tip of a knife. a pressure builds in the back of your throat and your fingers grip the fabric of your towel. “what…that’s a joke, right?”

her laughter rings in your ear and you are seconds away from hanging up the call.

“sorry, sorry. i sometimes have a weird sense of humor. you'll get used to it.”

“i doubt it.”

“and i'm hopeful. i'll let you go so you can get ready, i'll be by in under an hour.”

you hang up after a sweet goodbye and gently sit on the toilet. your brain is rushing to catch up after the conversation like your body goes on autopilot when you hear victoria's voice. its terrifying and its thrilling. and you don't know why a part of you likes the feeling.

after you brush your teeth, do some quick skincare, debate over shaving just in case, and spend twenty minutes picking out a cute outfit, you finally hear the gentle knocking on the door while you're double-checking over the content of your purse.

rushing to open the door, you're greeted with the sight of a smiling victoria, her hands tucked into the pants of her clearly expensive pinstriped pantsuit. you're admiring the look of her hair tucked back into a ponytail when she's reaching forward and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"you look perfect. come on, i made us a reservation."

and it turned out to be a perfect night. she did end up taking you to the french place, allowing you to order whatever you wanted. that place was weirdly empty, only a handful of other patrons inside. you were pleased to see that the waitress was french herself, having a small chat about the customs and foods she missed while she praised the authenticity of the food at the restaurant.

only a day and you had already forgotten how forward the people back home could be, because the waitress throws a subtle look at victoria and compliments you on finding such an attractive woman. when she leaves vic just smiles.

“ok, id say at this point we’re doing pretty good with the communication thing, right?” you ask, taking a sip of the pricey wine your date ordered.

“yeah, id say that.”

you finger the rim of your glass, the nerves getting to you before you ask your question. "i want you to tell me what your job is. your actual job, not some vague ass title. you have security following gus around, so i feel like i should know."

"no, no, you're right. i just didnt wanna scare you off. or have you think differently of me once i told you." she sighs, thumbing the napkins on the table. "i work in the government. i'm a congresswoman, to be exact."

you don't doubt she's a politician for a second, because she shows no hint of nervousness at your lack of emotion.

"are you...a good congresswoman?"

"i don't really know how to answer that." she laughs.

"i'm sorry. i knew you were important enough to be at that gala, but a politician is...tricky."

she reaches across the table and lays her hand palm up, smiling when you rest yours on top of it. "look, i get it. i should have told you sooner but please understand why i didn't. i wanted to get to know you as normally as possible, without all of the press and politics in the way."

"normally as possible, huh? that includes sleeping together on the first night?"

you're trying to show your acceptance of the situation with your humor, but you can tell victoria can sense your uneasiness at the situation. here you were thinking you had found some under-the-radar millionaire to dote on you and instead, you'd roped in someone whose job was entirely in the public eye that could be put in danger at the flip of a switch.

"how about we finish up and take this back to my place? i'll tell you everything that you wanna know about me. no matter how personal."

you stare into her eyes for a few seconds and decide that she looks genuine, getting confirmation that her daughter is staying with a friend before ending your meal and following her to her place.

for the amount of money she's ready to spend on you, you're surprised to see that victoria lives in a chic but quaint townhome only a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant. she gently takes off your coat and instructs you to sit with her on the couch, pressing on a remote to turn on her fireplace.

after a few hours and two more glasses of wine, victoria had opened up to you about nearly everything in her life. the mysterious death of her birth family, being adopted by a man who helped pushed her to go into a political career, her polite but loveless marriage with her ex. she even shows you a picture of zoe that she has in her wallet, taking the chance to gush over her daughter. she seems like such a sweet girl.

maybe it's the wine or maybe it's the way vic is opening up to you so freely, but you decide to tell her more about your past. how you always wondered why you barely stuggled moving to another continent at such a young age, or the fact that you dont even remeber why you had the drive to leave your parents home in the first place. you didnt even remember the last words you said to each other.

and throughout it all she's nothing if not attentive, she doesnt ask questions unless you give her permission too, keeping her eyes on you and gently placing her hand over yours.

you feel a turning in your stomach when she moves a stray hand of hair behind your ear. you told yourself to try taking things slow this time, but your body is starting to feel fuzzy and shes looking at you like she wants to devour you.

she decides to indulge you and gently brushes her lips against yours, smiling at the way your breath staggers. your head moves forwards to finaly get her to kiss you but she jerks her head back.

"i want you to tell me what to do."

god, your stomach feels hot. this is new, but a really arousing style of new. the last time you both slept together she had taken a careful but unwavering charge, unraveling you with a steady hand a sweet smile.

"cmon just...please?"

"no. tell me what you want me to do."

you sigh and bite at your lip. "i want you to lay me down and fuck me. right now."

so she laid you down and she did. there were no words to describe how much you enjoyed that night on her couch, the way she could read your body like a book and brought you to ecstasy again and again and again...

and when you wake up a soft blanket is draped over your body, a brekfast of coffee and some crepes set in front of you.

the days after are a whirlwind. discreetly as possible victoria takes you on a tour of new york city, to more expensive restaurants and hidden jewels that most tourists skipped over.

youre lounging in your hotel room when you decide to inform your friends of how your trip is going. while slightly hesitant they seemed more than happy that you were enjoying yourself with someone who took a genuine interest in you.

until you told them her job.

"my love, are you insane? a politician?"

"an american politician?" chloe gasps, continuing off of jamies shock.

"hey, im american too dont forget!"

"of course you are, but please, you understand why this is not good, no?"

"you know how fishy they are, especially with all the supe business going on. that place is getting more dangerous by the day, and i dont think you should be seeing someone whos contirbuting to that."

it pained you to admit it but jamie had a point. the three of you would always laugh in amused horror at how badly things were going on in your birth country, and the politics...it was less than pleasant.

not to mention the supe business. every corner of the world had to deal with the annoyance that was vought and their "products", even france. but so far you'd just had to deal with a few perverted looks from traveling supers and talks of some stupid theme park a few miles out of the city. meanwhile, it seemed like every day a new superhero was being introduced to the American public. it unnerved you.

"i understand. i appreciate both of you looking out for me. trust me, i'll be on my guard for now on." you mumble, picking at the material of your sleeve.

"of course, songbird. we'll call again soon."

the call ends and drop your phone on the nightstand. you look at the eiffel tower cutout in your phone case and your heart aches.

the next morning you're eating a a breakfast of coffee and fruit crepes when your phone rings, dragging your atttention away from the trashy dating show you were watching on the bedroom's tv. when you see nancy's name you hesitantly answer the call.

"nance? is everything alright?"

"everything is great. i'm just here to check in about your next gig."

"my next- nance, im on vacation. please tell you didnt forget and booked me for a job when im across the ocean."

"no, im not that stupid, hon." she sighs. "i didnt even arrange this job, victoria did. im just the messenger."

you blink once. then twice. you remember vic saying something about helping you with a job but you honestly just thought that was bullshit to get her to come stay with you.

(or get in your pants. but you don’t think you’d be too upset about that now.)

“ok. thank you, nancy. tell me the details.”

it’s a lot more extravagant than you expected. victorias friend, an actual senator, was holding a fundraising event for some government program he and vic were both involved in. nancy wasn’t told what the program was, but that you would have to go through a security debrief before being told you'd be given a team to help you prepare. and picking from a selected closet of dresses. fun.

you ignore the feeling of nervousness that’s building up in your gut. because while all of your gigs were important, they were never this important. you push it down as you call victoria and thank her endlessly, when you tell your friends the minimum amount that you can tell them, and when victoria picks you up from outside your hotel twelve hours before the event even starts.

she pressed a small kiss to your hand, laughing at the grumpy and tired mumble you let out when you sit in the car seat. it only passes once she gives you a coffee she picked up, the caffeine waking you up and putting a smile on your face.

the content feeling turns into shock when you enter victorias' place and see zoe, vic throwing a short explanation of “busy babysitter” over her shoulder as she heads into the kitchen.

its a bit awkward at first, sitting on one couch as she plays on a black nintendo switch on the other. it helps when you ask her about whatever she’s playing, the girl diving into a rant about the farm game she’s playing and how she’s trying to catch a certain type of fish.

victoria comes back with a tray of breakfast for the three of you before asking her daughter how school is going, how her friends are, etc. its nice to get a glimpse into victories private life during the morning, the close bond she has with her daughter. you notice some tension but decide not to bring it up.

the morning goes by too quickly, zoe being picked up to be dropped off at a friend's house after giving you a sweet goodbye and you getting rushed upstairs as the team comes to the townhome to help you prepare. its a nice change, having other people doll you up instead of having to worry about trying to do everything correctly and by yourself. and its a perk you don't have to spend your own money to do it.

the team members are nice but punctual, finishing your hair and makeup in record time with not a second wasted. you barely get time to notice yourself in the mirror before you're ushered into a gorgeous gown, soft fabrics and a chic and elegant style.

when your finished you’re finally allowed to observe yourself while your transportation and is prepared, and it feels like you’re looking at a dream version of yourself.

as you admire yourself in the mirror vic comes up next to you, clearly enjoying herself as her eyes slowly drift up and down your body.

“you look…ethereal.” she whispers, pressing a small kiss to your cheek after you turn to smile at her.

“only because of you. i don’t know how i could ever make this up to you, vic. this is just…”

“trust me, you’ve already done enough.”

while you knew there would be some press at the event, you didn't expect over two dozen paparazzi to quickly start flashing their cameras in your direction as soon as you got out of your ride. questions about who you were wearing, the relationship you had with vic, etcetera etcetera. you would've buckled from the sudden pressure if it weren't for victoria’s steady hand on your waist, the press of her arm through her red pantsuit.

the venue is downright insane, so grand you start to wonder if you're in one of those gilded age mansions you used to read about in new york magazines. climbing pillars and art on the ceiling of the main hall, which you don't get to admire since you’re yet again whisked away to get ready.

after a few more touch ups you aren’t afforded a minute to prepare, guided to the edge of the performance area. the sinking feeling is back in your stomach. the biggest moment of your life and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

the lights dim and you glide onto the stage, able to see the shadows of the guests faces from the flickering table lights. it’s eerie, the amount of them staring up at you with eyes you can’t even see.

you were given a set list a few days prior, only a couple of songs for the payment you would apparently receive after this. the songs piqued your interest, a collection of classical melancholic pieces from around the fifties. vic told you her friend was a vintage nut, but you didn't know why he chose these for you to perform when the event seemed to have an uplifting aura.

either way it felt…different, singing this time. the spotlight was on you and you’ve never felt as beautiful as you did in this moment. everyone was watching you, so hooked on the melodies escaping your body that you could see the emotions brining some people to the edge of their seats.

you don’t let it show but you grow a bit anxious at the sight of supers in their uniforms in the crowd. you don’t see anyone from the seven, but you do notice a woman you recognized from some commercial about climate change and earth preservation, the green of her dress and the nature motifs in her outfit give you a clue as to what her power was.

just when you feel yourself about to slip, dangerously close to hitting a note at a weird pitch, you see victoria, getting deja vu at the sight of her staring at you from the bar like the first night you met. she's looking at you like she's never doubted you for a second, like you're an angel sent from above that's blessed her life.

you hold her gaze when you sing. noticing the soft smile on her face when you sing a lyric about how the feelings in your heart feel so intense you fear you're going insane.

when the first song ends the lights come back on and you're met with a polite yet thunderous applause, the smile on your face so wide your cheeks start to hurt. the presenter comes back on stage, praising your performance with a swipe at his eyes before telling the guests that the host would be on shortly, and after he gives a short speech you'd be back to sing some more. with a gentle nod and wave, you step off the stage.

you feel like you're walking on air, with no doubt that was one of your best performances yet. your emotions got a little intense there but nothing you couldn't manage, and everyone seemed to like it anyway.

you're able to send a quick text and a picture to jamie and chloe before you hear the sound of the door to your quaint dressing room open, not able to turn around before you feel hands around your waist and plush lips on the side of your neck, the sight of victoria wrapped around you in the mirror making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

"i take it you liked my singing?"

"like doesn't even begin to cover it," she mumbles into your neck, raising her head slightly to be able to hold eye contact through the mirror. "i'm so lucky i found you, y'know that?"

you playfully brush her off, telling her you have to freshen up for some mingling before you get back on stage. she gladly helps you with your makeup, and while you weren't expecting her to be so touchy tonight you definitely aren't complaining, especially when her hand starts to drift closer to the space between your legs. it takes an embarrassing amount of mental strength to deny her, promising you'll continue once you go back to her place.

once you're finished getting ready she leads you back out to the hall, introducing you to numerous business people, politicians, celebrities, etc. you try not to fangirl when you meet a singer whose songs you've been obsessed with lately and when she asks you to perform at her cousins wedding. victoria just smirks when she leads you away and you let out a tiny squeal under your breath.

once the networking is done you're able to take the time to sit down and eat some of the catered food, almost moaning at the tastes of the food. you sometimes forget just how good food could be in the states, and these rich people pulled out all the stops. you try not to eat too quickly or impolitely as victoria talks with her tablemates, some people from her job apparently. after the first introductions and praises they gave you you mentally tapped out of the situation. she luckily covers for you when they question your mood, laughing when she tells them you've had a long day of being treated like a singing barbie doll.

everyone in the room quiets down when the hos taakes the stage and starts his speech. he introduces himself as robert stendham, and you feel a little embarrassed that this man gave you the chance to sing here and you didn't even know his name. you're thinking about how odd it is that you weren't introduced before this when he mentions something about the program and you perk up.

"...extend a personal thank you to general jameson for finding the time to escape his duties to fly in and be here with us tonight, and a special thanks to director neuman for helping me with this project and finding the beautifully talented y/n to perform for us tonight."

there was a brief few seconds of applause, victoria looking around and giving out smiles while you wondered what the hell she was the director of.

"as you can see, we have a few supers with us tonight. people like hazelwood, whose efforts against climate change have lead to over a dozen organizations plating millions of trees and clearing millions of pounds of trash for the ocean. because that's what supers are supposed to do-protect us. not act like degenerates who get to do what they want because of their abilities."

your eyebrow twitches, sensing the slight anti-supe propaganda from the end of his speech. well, not anti every supe, just the ones who act like gods among men, which you could understand. but you still felt an uneasy feeling rising in your stomach. you feel vic's palm rest over the top of your hand under the table.

"which is why im incredibly honored that director and congresswoman neuman has extended a hand to me to invest in the federal bureau of superhuman affairs, and to further extend that hand to you to help participate in this monumental institution..."

everything is a fog and your brain taps out once he starts talking about what this burerua does, how they closely monitor supes and jail the ones who've caused public harm. your head feels hot and your chest feels cold, and you can't stop your body from going on auto-pilot and excusing yourself to the bathroom before finding some balcony on the higher floor.

the cold air of new york shocks your body back into normalcy, but the pounding in your head persists. it feels like a panic attack ut so much worse, like your fight or flight has been activated without anything even happening. had you rushed into all of this? chasing a girl and a dream like you were a teenager again?

yet again the door opens behind you and someone comes to stand next to you, able to tell who it is by the scent of brown sugar and the glimpse of dark hair blowing with the slight breeze.

"you alright? mr. brandon from the tech startup was asking about you, tried to make me invest in some room light plant grower hybrid-"

"why did you bring me here?"

you cut her off and the air is quiet, save for the sounds of cars and the city and the wind. it's weird, standing in a tense silence like this with her.

"how are you feeling?" she whispers .

"are you- " you turn, nearly giving yourself whiplash with the speed at which you turn to look at her. the look on her face, like she's just observing you and how you're reacting. it only upsets you more. "are you being serious?"

"yes, i am. tell me."

"no, answer my question first. why are you avoiding it?"

she sighs, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face before reaching to grab your hand, which you hesitantly let her hold.

"as you heard, im part of a buereau that monitors supherhumans, keeping track of them, making sure they cant use their powers for harm. so far we've only had to deal with supes here in the states. until one day, this couple comes in that believe their daughter has used her powers on them."

she reaches for something in her pocket and your grip tightens. she pulls out a polaroid and holds the picture up for you to see. you feel like you're going to vomit when you see you, smiling, standing with your parents in a backyard.

"what...what is this? how'd you get this?"

"the couple gave me this picture, and told me how weird the least few years have been. friends and family asking where their daughter went, how she was doing, a daughter they didnt even remeber having."

you bring a hand up to your head, hopelessly trying to dissipate the splitting headache that's forming.

"but then they said the memories started coming back. glimpses of a child running in the grass, birthday parties, graduations, talent shows-"

"stop, please just stop." you gasp, hunching over as good as you can with the restrictions of your gown. it doesn't even feel like the world is just spinning, it feels like its being played in some celestial game of pool. "so what, you're saying...you're saying i did that? to my parents?"

"yes," she reaches for the side of your face, guiding you to look up at her. "and you can do so much more. you already have."

this can't be happening.

"why do you think people react so emotionally to your singing? you think its just because you're amazing? that's not even half of it."

your breathing is picking up again.

flashes of memories start appearing in your vision. so many happy times with your parents that you forgot, friends that you left behind. how your parents didn't support your half-thought-out plan to become a singer, how you made them forget. made yourself forget.

"i don't want you to think i did all of this just for what i want. i didn't. i care about you, and i want you to help me. but you need to trust me."

the blood is rushing back and from your head, and you think about how weird her eyes look against the backdrop of the city before you pass out.

finally. FINALLY. ong i wrote like 1k in the past day because i said just get this shit over with but its done! 5 months later! hope you enjoyed :)

[skele-bunny]

Thinking about Daddy Kink Dew/Phantom again...

I'm so insane about them.....

CW for daddy kink and "baby boy"/"Daddy's good boy" used, spanking

(but this is NOT DD/LB that is a no go for me. I just like the name usage)

Super long post!

It was a joke when Phantom used it first, the entire pack cuddled in the common room when Dew came out holding plates with the help of Mountain.

"Don't be up too late tonight, we have practice in the morning."

Phantom had just chirped, thanking him and he's gotten a little sassy thanks to Swiss and Rain! "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say dad."

"See? It's things like that, that makes me think you're a dumb kit."

"Oh, sorry, lemme- wha'ever say daddy." He's mocking a baby voice, flicking Dew off while munching on his garlic bread with such a shit eating grin.

Swiss is losing his shit, the girls giggling in return. But Dew? He's just staring at Phantom before he scoffs, waving his hand away as he goes to his room to eat in silence.

Second time, Dew is yelling about something in the practice room. Something-something-cant find the strings he put away.

"You aren't being helpful right now!" Dew just hisses at Aurora.

Phantom, again, "Careful Rory! Daddy ang'y."

Once again laughter but now Dew is just hard fucking glaring Phantom, to the point the newly summon just slowly shrinks and hides behind Swiss. He and Dew don't talk the entire practice anymore, but Phantom can feel the glare and burning eyes. They're worried they honestly upset Dew, but too nervous to say anything with the potential he may be angry at them.

It's when they get back to the den, Phantom slinking to his room, going to close the door before it's caught and Dew pushes his way in, locking it and grabbing Phantom by his collar.

"Think you're fucking funny, huh?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I was just trying to play! I'm sorry!"

Poor bat can only yelp as he's forced onto the bed, feeling Dew bite his bond mark and keep his wrists down. "Pissing me off every fucking time you open your mouth." Goes right up to his ear, voice low. "Guess daddy needs to teach respect again, doesn't he?"

Oh....

Oh.

Phantom just shivers, his face already so warm with blush it doesn't help that Dew is literally heating up. Dew goes straight to his hair, yanking their head back and slowly starts grinding on their uniform pants. The sheer amount of force Dewdrop uses to yank Phantom's clothes off is insane, then moving the quint over his lap. There's one hand on Phantom's neck to keep him down, the other slowly rubbing over Phantom's curved ass. Dew hasn't stop growling the entire time, his body heat practically making Phantom get a sun tan if it could.

"I'm sorry, Dew, I-"

SMACK!

"What was that?"

"I-I said I'm sorry Dew!"

SMACK! SMACK!

The hand holding his neck squeezes, Dew just smiling so wide and Phantom can feel his chubbed cock against his stomach.

"I'll give you one last chance, Phantom. What did you say?"

Their breath is shaking, tail around their thigh. "I'm sorry..." He can feel Dew's hand twitch on his ass. "...Daddy."

"There we go."

The fire ghoul just rubbing his hand over Phantom's ass again before finally stopping his growls. He brings his hand back and another impact is made, Phantom yelling as more and more are brought down. His claws are digging into Dew's pants, tears streaming but his cunt is getting wetter by the second. The position is so... Embarrassing, exposing. Here he is literally being spanked like a rowdy kit. It's ridiculous!

"Do you know how long I've waited to do this to you? Huh?" Dew is purring now. "Bend you over my lap and spank that attitude out? Everyone's been an awful influence on you lately... You're not my good boy anymore."

"I... I am! I'm a good boy..."

Dew shakes his head, fingers massaging into the red handprints he left. "Tsk, no... You're not! But that's my fault, isn't it? I've neglected you. Let you get away with too much."

Phantom just keens, his ears twitching as the hand on his neck let's go and he's adjusted again, now his back to Dew's chest. Their legs are forced open by his arms, one hand grabbing his tit, the other quickly rubbing his clit.

"Daddy will get you back in shape, don't you worry, baby boy."

The voidling is a mess, feeling Dew pinch his nipple while circling that sensitive bundle of nerves. He can feel Dew sucking on their neck, Phantom's moans vibrating on Dew's lips, his hands never once stopping--even as Phantom tilts his head back with a loud cry, thighs shaking as he squirts on both Dew's lap and reaching the floor. Yet... Dew doesn't stop his fingers.

Rather, the pack leader keeps going. He's at the same pace, but the hand on his chest moves down to his cunt as well, finger fucking him too. Their wings are fluttering, pushing against Dew as much as they can, moans free falling as their body racks with shivers and pleasure.

He doesn't know how long it goes own for, or how many times he's came (enough for Dew's lap to be a small puddle), but now it's gotten to oversensitivity and borderline painful.

"Daddy- Daddy, please! I can't- I can't cum anymore-"

"Awhh, just two more, baby. Don't you wanna be daddy's good boy?" Dew is whining, nipping Phantom's jaw.

"Please."

His attempt to plead is ignored as another orgasm is forced out, but Dew's hands are moved away which Phantom's body is grateful for. His fingers are covered in slick and cum, sticky and white as he brings one hand to Phantom's mouth and the other to his. They open obediently and licking at their own mess, sucking Dew's fingers clean with another whine.

Once Dew pulls his hand away and is satisfied with the cleanup, he rolls them over, Phantom pressed down in the bed. He can hear Dew undressing himself and only moving back to shake his pants off. He's right on top of them again, kissing and licking up Phantom's back before pushing in, and those purrs are back to growls.

"Always so fucking tight."

Poor bat is crying again, eyes rolling back as he adjusts to Dew, his cunt welcoming him despite the strain. His moans are so choppy, high pitched little un-un-un, but occasionally he'll slip out a "da-ddyyyy-" in between. They're fucked with little to no care, Dew's claws dug into their hips and chasing his own orgasm.

Another slap against Phantom's ass makes him howl, lifting his head some while Dew's voice rings out again. "You're gonna be good for daddy from now on, aren't you?"

When he can't respond, the hand goes to his hair and lifts, Dew hissing in his ear. "Aren't you?!"

"Yes!!" God, his poor cunt is tired yet yearning for more. "Yes, yes daddy! Gonna be good for daddy forever!!"

His ear is nipped at, and he's shoved back down. Dew loses any control he had, just railing into Phantom's tight and slick heat like a rabid ghoul in a rut. His knot latching and dragging Phantom back, hand against the arch his spine is in.

Just like before, another orgasm is ripped through Phantom once Dew's knot locks in, sobbing as his mate is rutting against him before it pops, flooding his insides with more warmth. They dead weight, Dew following with a tight grip still. He nuzzles himself against Phantom's sweaty neck, inhaling his scent and catching his breath.

"Gonna be daddy's good boy..." He gives another hump and Phantom can't even open his eyes again. "So fucking delicious, baby."

Phantom is covered in marks and the whole damn pack has heard him, but doesn't dare say a word as Dew is lingering right next to him; Petting through his hair and whispering sweetly to him. The leader moves for just a second and comes back with a sandwich, Phantom sitting on his lap and absentmindedly purring.

"Open."

A little 'ahh' and Phantom bites down, his tail wagging and nuzzling into Dew's shoulder. "Thank you, daddy."

Dew has the biggest shit eating grin, kissing Phantom's cheek before he hold the food up once more.

[charmercharm3r]

i cant NOT think about jeongin asking the 9th member for help with/practice kissing (the phrasing is weird but i lovee this idea 😭)

Masterlist

prev: three, next: five

☆ﾟ

“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to… It just never happened.”

Jeongin was defending himself like his life depended on it. Not that he needed to, no one blamed him or thought it was weird— more of a pride thing on his end.

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you crumpled the empty water bottle in your hand and turned to Jisung. Raising and bringing it down playfully onto the top of his head, Jisung didn’t run from the scolding. “Why’d you put him on the spot like that! What’s your dating history like then, hm?”

Jisung immediately skipped over to Jeongin to take him into an embrace while the younger attempted to escape. “Ew, hyung— get away! You’re sweaty!”

When he managed to catch him, Jisung rubbed his cheek into Jeongin’s shoulder, “don’t feel bad, Jeonginnie. I’ve kissed people, but don’t worry, it’s not that fun.” Jeongin looked at you with a face that begged for mercy but not attempting to push him away.

“He’s lying, kissing is really fun,” Hyunjin chimed in and took a seat the open space beside you. “Kissing me is even more fun. C’mon Y/N’ie, just one?” He shoulder bumped you and puckered his lips.

“Kiss each other.” With that, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to come back minutes later to find Jisung pinning Hyunjin to the floor trying to take your words literally. You turned around and left again before witnessing anything that’ll make your eyes burst into flames.

☆ﾟ

What was probably hours had passed and everyone since forgotten about what had been said in the practice room, entirely too preoccupied with other things. Like singing lessons, for example. The session just didn’t go as you had hoped, that one high note was kicking your ass. As you walked through the corridor towards the exit, you could hear a soft voice from another occupied room.

Peaking through the small sliver of window, Jeongin was sat alone in the tiny confined space. You knocked twice before letting yourself in. He wasn’t startled, but surprised to see you, though the happy expression he wore quickly changed to something more melancholic.

“You’re still here? I thought your lessons ended an hour ago?” You stood in the door frame not wanting to invade too much of his space. Jeongin was always emotionally delicate, though he put up a hard shelled front.

“Yeah, just wanted some quiet before going home.” He twiddled his fingers, mind clearly not in the same room.

“Okay, wanna head back together? I can wait for you, I’ll grab us something at the convenience store.”

“Actually, can you come in?”

You closed the door behind you and sat in the spare chair. “Are you okay?”

He hated talking about his feelings, let alone things as personal as what Jisung had brought up earlier today about kissing. Jeongin has no idea how to go about it. He can’t articulate that he thinks you’re so pretty and that the way your nose crinkles when you laugh is adorable. It’s hard to put into words that he’s never kissed anyone because he didn’t want to waste his first with someone temporary because, “I only get one.”

Your eyebrow raised, “one what?”

His voice caught in his throat, hardly able to push the words past his lips, “one first kiss.”

“Are you still thinking about what Jisung said earlier? It’s nothing to feel bad about.”

Jeongin fidgeted a second longer before deciding to bite the bullet. “Take it. I don’t want it anymore.”

Fuck, he scared you. You’re looking at him like he has two heads and is speaking in tongues. “When you say it like that, I don’t want you to jump into things just because everyone else does. Don’t rush—“

“I’m not rushing. Like, the total opposite,” he sat on the edge of his seat and that much closer to you. “There have been people who wanted to kiss me, and I’ve wanted to kiss them. But I felt like I couldn’t? If I’m going to kiss someone, I want it to stick. Those people, they were temporary and I knew that, it wouldn’t have been fair to them. Now, I’ve been putting it off for so long that I think it’s not even an option anymore. But… then I look at you, talk to you, exist around you. It feels, for lack of a better word, right?”

At a complete loss for words, how have you not crumbled around him earlier? Let alone noticed he felt that way? You sat still with your lip between your teeth, running through all the possibilities that could follow if you were to go through with what he’s asking for. There was the fact that you already kissed one of them— briefly recalling your stolen moment with Felix— and that Jeongin hasn’t shied away from complementing you when he could or being all together boyfriendly. Even if you didn’t think of dating him, what harm could kissing him really do? If anything, doing it will satiate that need for the both of you, then close that chapter.

“Okay, but don’t tell Hyunjin. It’ll make him jealous.”

“More than when you kissed Felix?”

“How do you know that?!”

“I live with him?” He said it as if you were the stupid one to believe none of them would find out. Case in point.

You sighed, “yes, more than that time.”

As you moved and got more comfortable, he copied in sitting up straight and puckering his lips. “What’re you doing?”

“Getting ready to kiss you?” You rolled your eyes.

Jeongin came from a good place, even if he was entirely clueless. You suppose he was just parroting every time Jisung exaggeratedly tried to kiss the next nearest person. It was kind of endearing, a little geeky, but heartwarming nonetheless.

Putting your hands on his shoulders, you pushed them down to get him to relax. Then scooting your chair closer to his, you spread his knees to let your own take up that space. Jeongin let you maneuver him however you pleased, breath hitching as you stole his hands to place them lightly on the tops of your thighs. His hands were huge, not new information, but definitely a new feeling now that he was touching you. He was on the taller side, broader shoulders and probably able to wrap around your entire body if you hugged him properly. All those thoughts briefly swam around your brain just from the image of his hands on your thighs.

Jeongin was felt as though he was sweating bullets, but still immensely excited. Physical touch wasn’t his most favorite thing in the world, but he enjoyed it when it was you. These small, lingering touches, like where his hands were now, he probably enjoyed it more than he should.

“I’m going to put my hands on your neck, is that okay?” Jeongin nodded immediately, holding his breath. The warmth of your palms on his pulses made him shiver. “Don’t over think it. Kisses don’t need to be aggressive, they also don’t have to be too gentle. Just find a balance, not every person you kiss will want the same thing.” He nodded and absorbed every word that dripped from your perfectly plush lips. At some point he almost stopped listening and focused on your lips all together.

“What do you like?” He blurted out nervously. You giggled, oh so beautifully.

“We’ll get there,” your fingers traced back to comb through the hair at the back of his head teasingly, Jeongin almost fully leaned into it like a puppy. “Be calm. All the time in the world.”

Jeongin’s hands lightly kneaded the flesh of your thighs in anticipation, in need and desperation and longing to just feel your lips on his for the first time. He didn’t realize you were slowly drawing in closer and closer, then he could feel your breath fanning across his mouth and suddenly all the air was sucked from his lungs. “Make sure they want this as much as you. Look into their eyes, hold them tenderly, then ask. Can I kiss you?”

Glassy, watered over with all the stars staring back at you, “please.”

“That’s not a confirmation.” You were so close that the heat radiated off your body made Jeongin overheat in the best way possible.

“Yes, please kiss me.”

You were slow to press your lips to his, whereas as soon as the contact was made, Jeongin leaned further into you, almost shoving you out of your chair. Quick to push him back, you held his neck a little tighter and reined him in. Taking the hint, he put his excitement into his hands that now squeezed your thighs tighter and tighter, not that it hurt. His lips softened more, less eager but just as excited, he followed your lead.

The simple peck ended far too quickly for his liking, chasing as you pulled away. “No, no, more please.”

He moved to grip the bottom of your chair and tug the entire thing closer with the scrape of the legs on the floor echoing with a screech. Now you had nowhere to go, further trapped between his legs where you’d put yourself and Jeongin now reaching for your waist with one hand and the other cupping your jaw. And you didn’t hate it. Actually, you loved it. Getting attention from the one person that hates giving or receiving attention feels so rewarding, which is why you let him take what he wanted.

Long fingers threaded through your hair and tugged you to meet his lips half way, you fell forward into him and let your arms wrap around his neck. For his first time kissing, he was surprisingly well versed. Everything you’ve told him up until now he applied in his rather scattered yet charming kissing technique. He was everywhere all at once and it made your brain fuzzy.

Close lipped, simple, safe, eager, yearning, wanting, warm, fervorous, you didn’t want to let go almost as much as he did. Jeongin lightly whined when you pulled away, chasing after you again and keeping your upper body pinned to his. You hadn’t realized that your knees were pressing against his pelvis until you leaned a little back and he softly whimpered one more time.

“I don’t think you really needed kissing lessons.” He shrugged, smug. “Did you just wanna kiss me?” Another shrug and a crooked smile. “You little shit.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t kiss and tell.” You couldn’t tell if he lied, but truthfully you didn’t care, it didn’t matter.

Rolling your eyes again, he leaned in for a soft peck, molding your lips together sweetly, honey like moans being swapped between mouths.

That is, until the door to the vocal room was being burst open. You jumped in Jeongin’s hold, the both of you looking at who had just ruined your lovely moment.

“Oh, come on! Jeongin?! That is so not fair!” Hyunjin took up most of the doorway with Jisung peaking on his tiptoes over his shoulder.

A sigh fell from your mouth, patting Jeongin’s shoulders and reluctantly slipping from his grasp. He sat still, shriveling into the backrest of the chair as you gathered your stuff. “Aren’t you coming?” You asked him. Sheepish, he scratched the back of his head and pulled the hem of his shirt lower. “Nevermind, see you tomorrow, Jeonginnie.” He avoided eye contact again as you ruffled his hair and pushed past Hyunjin and Jisung.

The two followed behind you, bombarding you with question after question, mostly about how good the kiss with Jeongin was. Hyunjin was dramatically livid, nothing out of the usual, storming ahead of you and Jisung down the stairs to head home.

Jisung lightly pulled you back to a stop, curious eyes looking at you. “What is it?”

“I— I know I joke about kissing, said it’s not that fun and everything but…” he trailed off as though he couldn’t trust the words that he truly wanted to say. You waited patiently until he could articulate himself. “Can I be next?”

☆ﾟ

A/N: it’s been a minute..hoping posting this can jumpstart me into posting more!! i really missed writing and finding this in my inbox after a month was so fun n cute to write, thank u anon!!!

[the-monkeies-girl]

Jealous Noa does something to me. 😚

hi uh thanks satan now i cant stop thinking about it let's get FERAL

NSFW CONTENT BELOW ( 18+ ) PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK THANK YOUUUU.

Imagine Noa like... Denying you seeing your friend ( another male ape in the clan who you've gotten close with ). Noa brings it up of course, a bit bitter at the way you smelled that particular afternoon, maybe some added stressors like the Elders being on his ass about something.

Like, you have accidentally brought this Apes SCENT into the nest? How DARE? It's on your clothing, it's in your HAIR, soaked into your SKIN? That's how close in proximity you've been, you're defending yourself, Noa knows that and there's rational thought in there somewhere but he doesn't like it. "You're not allowed to see him again."

"You can't stop me from seeing my friends, Noa!"

"Do you... want to bet?" A phrase you had taught him comes back as he rounds near you, the intentions in his eyes flurrying to you as you swallowed and nodded. Yeah, you wanted to bet. You wanted to find out. "What are you gonna do to me, Eagle Boy?" Your voice is nothing more than a tease to him.

And well

Your clothes are nothing but a tangled mess on the ground, torn to PIECES because Noa doesn't feel like sparing them a second chance, the absolute carnage of his canines against your neck, him swiping your body so you're pressed against him, your back flushed to his chest and he starts trailing his bites along the back of your neck and RIGHT BETWEEN YOUR SHOULDER BLADES.

Right in the most tender spot that he can find and he's holding you against him as you're moaning, squirming and telling him that you're sorry, that you won't hang out with him again and he just. Let's you rub against him like that, letting your scent rub against him of course, but in return, you're getting absolutely blasted with his own and something deep inside of him knows that it's going to take a lot of washing for it to fade.

Plops you right on the nest, face down he doesn't know how to handle his emotions looking at your face, thinking that this other Ape had more intentions with you than you were really willing to realize.

No foreplay this time, he's mounting you. You're his and you know you are as your body is reacting to him, urging him to take you as you moaned his name.

No pleasure outside of the brief moment he shatters into you and your hands are hard to grasp the animal pelt below you, lungs rattling at the pure force and drive of his hips snapping into yours.

I have a feeling he'd be spiteful enough to make you wait to orgasm though, quick for himself to fill you to the brim, marking you even further as you squiggle against him and he can feel you tightening around him as he continues at a slower pace, content in his actions as he light licks the blood from your shoulder blades, lapping his tongue around and giving artistic swirls of red against your skin.

You're begging him, literally, to let you cum. To touch you, to do anything, legs shaking and forearms tense as you were struggling to keep yourself up. You think he's done? No, no. He is on his butt, grasping your legs and tearing you right against him, back once again flushed to his chest as he helps you right him, your legs being almost suspended in air as Noa uses the strength he had to practically man-handle you on his cock. Hard, he's relentless and mean almost, feeling the tug of bruising along the softer nature of your inner thighs but you don't want it to stop. He brushes his tongue along the side of your neck, cementing even more of himself on you as you toss your head back against his shoulder as you finally orgasm against him.

Afterwards is really nice and tender tho like. Noa making sure that he didn't hurt you, making sure that you were okay as he racks his hand through your hair ( Hey another sprinkling of his scent all over you, how sweet <3 ). You're face down in the nest and just laugh as he looks at the pretty nasty bite mark between your shoulder blades with a bit of guilt, thinking that he had actually hurt you. But, you turn your face and laugh softly at him and mutter, "So it took hang out with another Ape to get you to come out like that? I need to hang out with them more."

[gamblersdoll]

whenever sukuna has a rough day, he has you ride him.

two pairs of arms forcing your legs down, only allowing your hips to move and it was so difficult taking all of his girth. i mean, he’s the king of curses, what would you expect? anyways.

he wont do anything else, sitting there watching you attentively and these times are where he’s vocal. not moaning, more of string of curses or groans. definitely growls.

“fuck—keep fucking going.” he says, you see his abdomen flex, and his other set of arms resting behind his head. “just like that, make me proud.”

yet, he knew you were struggling to take all of him in. hell, it was a struggle saddling him. hes fucking huge.

“im not fucking helping you tonight.” he growls, staring blankly up at you. “yer fuckin’ lucky im even looking up at you, so hop to it or fifty spanks. and i wont be dropping my fucking hand.”

thats all it took to get you moving.

hes all groany, biting his lip when he’s feeling you clench down because of the size. yet, hes rolling his eyes back, gripping at your ass. his nails make crescent moons in them, forcing your body up and down on him.

“cant even take curse dick, how pathetic.” he snarls, slamming himself into you as your knocked the wind out of you. “gunna have to retrain this pussy.”

anything but that again.

“wait! pleas— i just needed lubrica—“

“shouldve gotten some when you had the fuckin’ chance!”

oh, did i mention he always has bad days in may because of the heat? yeah.

[corpsebasil]

Bonnie and Clyde Part 2

Ghostface’s girlfriend may not be a killer, but she’s the brain of the operation.

You lay on the couch, your feet propped against the cushions as you stare at the tv, scrolling through Hulu. You’d never felt so bored in your life. It felt like you’d been on house arrest the past few days. The only time you could leave was between one to four am and even then, Wayne wouldn’t let you do anything but walk around the block.

The front door opened with a rustling noise and you groaned, moving to prop yourself up on your elbow. Ethan entered the apartment, grocery bags on his arms, and gave you a smile as he moved to set the bags down in the kitchen.

“Ethan,” you called out, standing up and following him. “Ethan I cant take this anymore.”

“Take what?” He asked, oblivious to your frustration.

“I feel like a prisoner.” You scoffed, moving around the counter to help him put up groceries. “I swear to god I’m going to lose my mind.”

“This was your idea.” He pointed out, raising a brow. “How are you supposed to be dead if they see you out walking around?”

“But how much longer?” You whined, dropping your head on his shoulder. “I want in on the action.”

“No.” Ethan scoffed, pulling away from you to put a bottle of wine in the fridge. “There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near a knife. Or a Ghostface costume.”

“So Quinn gets one but I don’t?”

“You were the one who said you didn’t want to kill.” Ethan sighed, turning to rest his back against the counter. “Now you’ve changed your mind?”

“I would recreate Saw if it meant I could leave this fucking apartment.”

Ethan laughed and moved towards you, pressing a kiss against your mouth. Then another, then another as you clutched his shirt, holding him to you.

"Relax, okay?" He murmured, biting your bottom lip before he pulled away. "Listen, I'll talk to my dad. You know how he is. But you're the one who's coming up with all the ideas—we can’t risk you.” Then he laughed. “I’m pretty sure Richie would come back from the dead and beat my ass if you got hurt.”

"Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I want to be holed up." You argued, glaring at him. “It was my idea for Richie to get with Sam. Mine. I’m the one that found her in Modesto. I’m the one who convinced Amber to join in. Don’t you think I can handle this?”

“I’m not saying you can’t.” He said, frustrated. “I’m just saying you’re more useful as the mastermind behind this whole thing.” He tilted his head, smirking. “Besides. You look so much prettier without a knife in you. Sam seems pretty hell-bent on killing us all.”

“Ugh.” You groaned. You went to the couch and flopped down on it.

“The theater shit is happening tomorrow.” Ethan said, walking over to run a hand down your leg. “It’s almost over, okay?”

“I want in, E.” You said, glaring up at him. “I’m tired of waiting for—”

The front door opened and you sat up, staring as Wayne and Quinn entered, a Domino’s pizza box in Wayne’s hands. Quinn immediately rushed over to you and you barely had time to screech before she was pouncing, laughing as the two of you fell off the couch and onto the livingroom floor.

“Bitch!” You gasped, laughing as the two of you rolled a couple of inches and Quinn pinned you, a satisfied smile on her face.

“Someone promised me they’d have a Stab marathon.” She said, raising a brow at you. “For inspo. Pizza and a movie?” She wiggled her eyebrows. You rolled your eyes but grinned.

“Fine. Fine. Get off me.” You said, sitting up as Wayne brought the pizza into the Livingroom.

"Stop harassing Y/N." Wayne scolded, passing you a plate as Ethan moved to sit on the ground next to you, immediately pulling you onto his lap.

"She doesn't look bothered." Quinn said, sending you a teasing smile as she got herself a slice and turned on the tv. You stuck your tongue out at her, wiggling in Ethan's lap as his arms looped around your middle.

"Stop moving like that." Ethan murmured, nipping the top of your ear as you squeaked. Quinn made a retching sound as Wayne valiantly ignored you, preferring to watch the intro to Stab over watching his son get handsy. "What's your favorite scary movie, Y/N?"

"You two make me sick." Quinn grumbled, and you laughed.

-

The next night you sat on Ethan's bed as he got dressed, shoving the Ghostface costume into his backpack. He was about to leave to join up with the Core Four, a term that you secretly loathed.

"You sure I can't come?" You asked, pouting as you watched him get his stuff together. "It would be funny. The big reveal."

"If something goes wrong you can keep up the act." Ethan said, moving over to drop a kiss onto your head. "Someone has to make sure we win this time. If we don't come back, you'll say we kidnapped you or something."

"That sounds like the lamest alibi ever." You scoffed. "Kidnapped? Really?"

"Well I don't know, maybe you were kidnapped."

"I practically roleplayed as a human bowling ball when you threw me at Tara."

"You're a talented actress."

"I want to go."

"No."

"Ethan."

"Y/N."

You stared each other down for a moment, his dark expression matching your own, before he pulled his knife out of his backpack and moved closer to you. You ignored the flutter in your stomach at the wicked gleam in his eyes. He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer, before he slowly lifted his hand to run the tip of his knife across your cheek.

"You're staying here." He murmured, brown eyes fixed on the tip of the blade as he moved it to rest on your bottom lip. The blade was cold and, when your tongue darted out to lick the dangerous point, Ethan's eyes narrowed. "You're just as sadistic as me, you know that?" He asked, putting his knife away as you grinned. "Fucking love you."

"Love you." You breathed back, kissing him hard until a knock hit the door and Quinn said it was time to go. "Fuck em' up, baby." You said, kissing Ethan one last time before he grabbed his bag and left for the theater.

So you sat on the couch when they left, bidding them happy hunting, and scrolled through your phone. And you waited, all night, for Ethan to come home.

BOOYAAA part THREE

tags

@tsukilover11 @user27017201172 @nellyboosworld @gcldtom @xyzstar @iheartemmaroberts @heart-an0n @sadieswifenocaplol @laylasbunbunny @isaidoop @marijulila @just-here-to-read-fanfictions @pumpk1n-writes @burningfanflowercash

[luckykiwiii101]

A Tendency To Kill…

And It Takes One To Know One….

Hey Upper East Siders.

Words out that it’s been…6 months since you’ve been sitting on your ass, procrastinating. Maybe that why it’s so flat…

Wait…you haven’t been procrastinating?

What a shame. When B built a bridge, it all came crashing down. Well maybe, the bolts weren’t strong enough.

Persist once. Shame on you. Persist twice. The blame’s on you. Persisting is nothing if you aren’t out to persist forever. Because your persistence should result in the 3D also showing you proof later…meaning that you can’t just “stop” persisting when it’s right in-front of you. If you know what I mean.

But what’s “persisting” if you don’t take it seriously.

If you ask me, you’re too bold playing around with the only thing holding your hope for a bright future. Or any future at all.

The only way to persist is, with a tendency to kill.

Woah woah woah!! Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves here and unleash the murderers roaming tumblr.

What I mean is…murder the old state. Until it no longer exists. Replace it with your new state.

You’ve already created the monster that you call “yourself” today. So what makes you think you can’t create another one. Except, this new one will be more in your favour. Completely in your favour.

Done with being nice. Because look how ever so far that’s gotten you…

You’re out to kill. (Metaphorically incase some of you illiterate dumb fucks can’t get this information into your brain, as usual, because if you did, you’d be sitting in your mansion right now, or wherever you desire, just anywhere but your lazy arse).

A wise girl once said, peak failure is the moment you’re too lazy to get off your metaphorical arse and persist, even though it doesn’t require getting off your physical arse. How embarrassing. Now how do you stoop that low….into your couch. You’re leaving a dent. It’s been ages. The springs must feel a new awakening when you finally choose to get up. If you get up. Don’t you feel butt hurt? Like literally? I cant imagine. How will you be able to do anything? Instead of running on treadmills and getting absolutely nowhere, quite literally. Instead venture into your mind, and actually get somewhere. You know you create your reality. Yet you refuse to…

The old you no longer exists. The old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now. And I mean literally. Get the hell off your phone, and start applying instead of scrolling tumblr searching for answers you already know the answer to.

You haven’t truly persisted if you haven’t drowned the old state in the new state. You’re somebody else now. And if you ever return to your old self, then you never truly claimed your new state. Only call yourself a success when you actually persist. And currently, by the looks of it you aren’t.

Cmon, try it. You’ll start to like who you become along the way. Wouldn’t it be satisfying to give yourself what you deserve?

Well either way, it’s not my problem what life you choose to live. Nobody’s going to shake you out of your trance when we all leave with our success stories, and you’re just…here.

And if books could kill, we wouldn’t wanna be you…since all you really seem to do is look for more info in them. It’s about time they bite your face off. You’re supposed to be attending Constance Billard/St Jude’s private school, not Hogwarts.

I hope I don’t see you here instead of enjoying your summer with your dream life. How many summers have gone by? I’m losing track. Well I guess some things never change…especially you.

- gossip girl

[haetrack]

i read no clue before i went to bed last night so ur responsible for the dream i woke up to about mark and now i have to share 🫡

mark’s never been more grateful for the giant vanity table in ur bedroom. the large mirror showing him a perfect view of ur face, scrunched up in pleasure as he’s buried in u from behind. the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room, layered over the sounds of ur moans. the table shakes with every thrust, his hands grabbing onto ur hips hard enough, ur sure it’ll leave bruises.

he burrows his face in ur neck, kissing and sucking up to ur jawline. he watches ur reflection as one of his hands leave ur hips to move to grope ur chest, squeezing ur hardened nipples. the whine it draws out of u, makes his cock twitch inside of u. “mark, please. u make me feel so good,” u whisper.

“yeah?” he mutters under a heavy breath. his hand slides down to press against ur clit, rubbing circles with the amount of pressure he’s perfected over all these times with u. his name slips out of u in a loud moan at the sudden stimulation of ur clit. he revels in the sheer mix of desperation and pleasure forming on ur face.

he presses a light kiss on ur cheek before pulling his chest away from ur back. he can tell u were so close, how could he not help his girl finish?

he pushes ur body further down onto the table, making sure to still be able to see ur face in the mirror. his hand pressing down on the hollow of ur back to keep u in place. he pulls himself out of u almost all the way, before slamming his hips into u harshly. a curse leaves ur lips, as he repeats the motion, each time getting faster and faster. ur fucked out expression encouraging him to go harder. he knows ur orgasm is near when u start clenching around him with every single thrust, sucking him in so well. angling himself to go even deeper inside of u, his cock fucking u so good that u come with his name leaving ur lips like a mantra.

the feeling of ur warm orgasm surrounding him makes him pick up his pace even more, desperate to chase his own high. it didnt take long for him to follow suit, one more look at ur pretty face, combined with the whines emanating due to the overstimulation of him still fucking into u causes his hips to stutter, shooting his cum inside u. the feeling of u being so full of him, and both of ur orgasms engulfing him.

pulling ur body back up off the table, he leans forward to exchange soft, slow kisses while u both tried to catch ur breathes. u break up the kiss, and whine in annoyance, “dude, ur gonna have to clean this up because i’m not doing it” gesturing to the mess of ur table, a few of ur collectible figurines had fallen to their side along with some makeup products that were now on the floor. mark laughs and rolls his eyes playfully before grabbing ur face to his again.

——

ANYWAY NO CLUE WAS SO GOOD LIKE WHY WAS I GETTING SHY AND GIGGLY FOR HIM LMAO. girl ur gonna make me through it with all these mark posts im catching up on. like im so sorry haechan i swear i still love u but atm i love mark more

- 🌱

YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME... I WONT BE ABLE TO HIDE MY FEELINGS FOR MARK ANYMORE... he needs me so bad... haechan go wait in the corner for a bit

just imagining him standing behind you one day watching you get ready for the little date you both are about to have. he's smiling at you, liking how calm it is as you get ready, how pretty your concentrated face looks. then there's all the little collectibles on your table, all these memories from your life, and newly framed pictures of you and mark together. he's happy to be a part of your life, smiling at the reflection of the two of you in the mirror.

he doesn't know how, but his mind wanders a bit. he wonders if he could just put his hand on your back, bend you down a little, put his hips flush to your ass, grinding into you. he bites his lip, squirming a bit as he watches you. he realizes he'd be able to see everything, how your face looks as he fucks you, how your body reacts to him. his hands are itching to reach over to you, but you call out his name, smiling as you see his pink cheeks.

and you know him so well, which would eventually lead to fucking on your vanity :)