#Guts deserves better! Free Guts!

[wallywallywallyworld]

Guts about Griffith: "I want to kill him"

Guts about Casca: "I can't get enough of you, I'll take care of you"

Fujoshis: "Guts doesn't love Casca, He loves Griffith more, in this essay I will-"

[lawofangie]

some things i've manifested

these are some basic stories, but i have some "crazy" ones i might share if you guys want lol

note: before manifesting i used to have a pretty "normal" life. i was conventionally attractive, middle classs, etc. i didn't really "need" anything but a social life and better grades. regardless of that, i just manifested whatever i wanted and didn't limit myself. i also added a few little stories behind them.

appearance change:

changed my hair texture to curly

grew from 5'2 to 5'6

clear, even skin and skin tone (tbh i already had a really good skincare routine, my skin was super clear bc of that BUT my face used to be like 10 shades darker than the rest of my body and i had CRAZY backne and strawberry legs)

losing 30 pounds (i used to be 72kg, now i'm 58kg)

changed my shoe size (i used to be size 9 now i'm size 7)

changed my hand size (for reference, my hands used to be a little longer than my phone, i had a "pro max" sized phone.)

social life:

having good friends in my state (im from up north and was completely lonely in the state i live in now)

popularity (i used to be pretty irrelevant but now everybody likes me and wants to be around me)

getting my sp's (i manifested them from scratch and took inspired action to meet them)

having people crush on me more overtly/ getting approached more (this is kind of a weird one, before my appearance change i was pretty attractive like maybe a 7/10, but i got tired of people just ogling me and not approaching me. i only had the unattractive and overconfident guys approaching me, all the attractive ones just stared lol)

just being likable lol (people used to feel threatened by me or feel like i was standoffish for some reason. idrk tbh but it was VERY annoying. i literally used to get accused of "acting like i own the place" for being quiet and just existing 💀. i didn't really care what they thought, but i hated when they complained about it and tried to make it my problem.)

school:

higher gpa (i used to have a 3.0 but i manifested a 3.8, which is a weighted 4.0)

high grades (i used to fail many tests/exams and have a mix of a, b, and c's. now they're all a's)

dream college acceptance

teachers liking me (they actually used to hate my guts it was so annoying 😭)

school crushes liking me back (tbh they probably thought i was already attractive but they never spoke to me or seemed like they wanted to get to know me)

leaving early (my school day ends at like 12 now)

lifestyle:

living closer to the city

having my dream routine (i have my dream skincare products, haircare products, diet, and health routines.)

having a high self concept (tbh i technically always did, i knew what i wanted and deserved. i just felt more like i was being injusticed. so i got rid of the "unwilling victim" mentality. i also used to ruminate on irrelevant things, like mistakes i made, what people thought of me, etc.)

very high confidence (in my looks, abilities, judgement, etc.)

money for my parents and myself

having a busy, productive life (i used to hate school because my grades weren't contributing to anything i wanted to do in life, so i wanted a productive life outside of that.)

always getting my way

getting all sorts of things for free

and more!

i'd say this all took me around 2-3 months, not because manifesting takes time, but because i assumed a lot of things would take time. i also had periods of doubt in myself and tried to handle things in the 3d on my own for some time.. which obviously didn't work. still, all i did was assume and accept these things as true and they happened overnight, in a day, or within that week. the longest anything's taken me is like 7 days, and that was because i kept wavering in my mind. manifestation is truly instant.

but anyways, i hope this is motivational and helpful. i do have some pretty "ridiculous" stories like some revenge stories, "crazy" stories regarding sp's, some not very appropriate stories, really good things happening to me, and others.

thanks for reading! i hope this helps. 🩶

[shitpostingsapphic]

One of the worst parts of seeing the internet say that Caitlyn doesn't deserve Vi, is Caitlyn is already aware of that herself.

And before I get into this, let it be known that if I see any caitvi antis in here try and say that the toxic dynamics in the other ships--with both timebomb and jayvik trying to kill each other, jinx killing several of ekko's comrades, and jayce having anti zaunite biases that he says to viktor's face--are somehow less severe than the shit going on with caitvi, don't bother. You will be blocked for your stupidity.

Caitlyn knows she's done unforgivable things. She says as much repeatedly. She knows she doesn't deserve Vi. But she tries to be better to at least come close to it. Why? Because Vi will love her anyway. That's just who Vi is. She never gives up on the people she loves. That's why Caitlyn fell in love with her to begin with. So what can Caitlyn do? She can try her fucking best to one day deserve it. And she does try. She facilitates the circumstances in which Vi can free Jinx. She lets go of her hatred for Jinx by doing that. Lets go of her need for revenge. She betrays Ambessa at great risk to herself and the people of both Piltover and Zaun, but it was a necessary break. Ambessa is an imperial power that cannot be bargained with. She leads the charge in the battle against both Ambessa's army of Noxians AND Viktor's glorious evolution. She loses an eye and nearly dies in that battle. She could have surrendered, but never did. She gave it her all. She fought Ambessa, an opponent she knew outmatched her, with a KNIFE IN HER GUT. When the battle is over, she gives her council seat to Sevika so that Zaun can be represented. (And yes, realistically, Sevika will more often than not be outnumbered so the practical application is lacking, but it's something Caitlyn CAN do as an attempt to right her wrongs. Oppression doesn't get fixed overnight. It's a step in the right direction and it's a step SHE makes, and we know she's the one who makes it because that used to be her mother's seat, and it's the seat she occupies when Jayce calls on all the great houses to war in the council room.) And at the very end, we see her looking at the blueprints of the hexgates, where we now know Jinx likely escaped. She's not only let go of her hatred, but she's looking for signs that Jinx is alive, likely for Vi.

All Caitlyn does for the entirety of act 3 is try to right her wrongs. All she does is try to deserve Vi. For some people, it will never be enough. But all it needs to be enough for is Vi. Vi is a grown woman, guys. I'm pretty sure she can decide for herself whether the woman she loves is deserving of that love.

[raccoon-in-the-danger-room]

Logan and Wade's relationship post movie is slow burn in the most infuriating way cause they have so many hang ups about the relationship

On Logan's side: He fell in love with Wade first. Which mortifies him cause 1) Wade is still in love with Vanessa 2) they're roommates in a one bedroom apartment with Blind Al until he gets his life together in a parallel world where he's technically dead and his SSN is donezo 3) Wade Winston Wilson is probably the most embarrassing person to have a crush on, let alone be in love with. Logan will defend him to heaven and hell and back, but even he knows it's crazy to fall for the Blowjob Queen of Sasqatoon.

He's fully aware of his feelings but tries to squash it down, acts like he hates Wade's guts. Even though every morning he wakes up early to make coffee for the both of them before Wade wakes up. Even though he's memorized what's his favorite gun cleaner and oil are, then stocks them up before Wade even notices his supply is running low. Even though he's the most at peace when Wade and Laura are having Girls' Night in the living room, wearing face masks and watching A24 horror films, while he's kicking back with Blind Al in the kitchen, sipping shitty beer.

On Wade's side: He has no idea Logan likes him. Or, better to say, he has no idea WHY Logan would like him. He might be gods perfect idiot, but if 2+2 = 22, then if someone tells you to shut up and stabs you in every argument to be had, they can't possibly LIKE like you. So even when the initial hostility of being new roommates dies down, he takes the domesticity they find together a side effect of being a Wolverine over the age of 40 with a teenage daughter and no active income in sight. "Beggars can't be ungrateful bastards who couch surf for free" and all that jazz.

Wade is also still hooked up on Vanessa. She'll always be his soul mate, and that will never change. So they try to talk it out. They go on a couple dates. They try to work something, anything out, but in the end they both agree it just isn't right anymore. They still love each other, but that doesn't mean they should be in a relationship. They both deserve better than to be stuck in the past.

So by the time Wade is single for real, Logan is already set on them not getting together. Previous points aside, he's no rebound chick. He just got promoted from Worst Wolverine to Okay-est Wolverine (via the coffee mug Laura got him from etsy) -- so he's absolutely NOT fucking gonna be a sloppy bitch and make a move on his roommate after he got out of a whatever the fuck situationship with his ex-dead, ex-fiance.

When they finally get together, it's so far down the line and so slow-burn, that they genuinely don't know how they got there. All they know is that they share a new one bedroom apartment together, alone (but Blind Al lives on the same floor of the complex) and that they are so far gone in domestic bliss that they're arguing with each other over how to properly assemble a pet condo for Mary Puppins.

[evieelyzabethh]

I'd DIE for more arcane collage au.

thinking thoughts of collegeau!Jayce who is too big for his own good. His huge thighs are barely contained by the lecture hall chair, a problem made even worse by his instinctual habit to manspread. He already sits impossibly close in class, damn near on top of you in the back of the classroom where he sits so his height can't be a problem for those behind him. His size is a problem everywhere. He hates sitting in big, old lecture halls, so old that the desks are barely big enough to accommodate a single notebook and writing utensil and the seats are closed in, forcing him to sit with his legs crossed at the ankles and arms pressed into his sides.

collegeau!Jayce who takes advantage of classes who don't have a strict attendance policy. He tells himself that it's not skipping if he's using the time to get coursework done for other classes, which is how it usually starts, him sitting at his desk with his laptop open and you sat on his bed reading some book for your class. And then he gets antsy. His leg starts bouncing, he gets stuck on the same paragraph for five minutes, his eyes drifting from line to line, from you back to his laptop, until he sits with his head resting on his palm staring at you.

"Babe", he calls out, to which you hum in response, still focused on the studying you both agreed to be doing. "I can't focus." You roll your eyes. You should've known better. Not only is Jayce is physically big, he's also a big liar, which is exactly how you end up riding his cock as he babbles into your neck. What was supposed to be a little make-out session, which even that had to be argued for, evolved the second his hands tugged at your his shirt and his dexterous fingers unbutton your jeans, and you couldn't find it in yourself to tell him no.

"Just the tip", he bargains, snapping you out of your slight trance. "N-No, Jayce. You said you were going to study." He groans, rutting into your clothed pussy, a wet spot already forming in his boxers the longer he put off the inevitable. "I'll study later. Need you - fuck - now. Please" And you underestimate your resolve, feeling it steadily slip the more his hips buck into you and his groans get louder as his tip gets stickier and his cock gets harder. "F-Fine", you whisper out breathlessly, but he was so eager to hear those words from your pretty lips it was deafening.

He makes quick work freeing his dick, the head red and angry at having to wait so long, but at least it is just the tip...at first. His eyes glaze over, and his jaw goes slack, looking up at the smooth ceiling because he knows if he looks down at you, seeing the way your face scrunches up, how your pussy swallows him up, he'd ending up pounding into you until he bruises you from the inside out. But the way you feel around him, wet, and warm, and goey, and gods he doesn't even realize he's pushing in further until your hands scratch at his stuttering hips and your breath hitches. He's gone as soon as your open your mouth, saying nothing but pretty whimpers of his name. collegeau! Jayce who's just so big he splits you open before he even bottoms out but he's just so sweet about it.

Hips stopping as soon as his cock hits your cervix, he at least tries to slow down, cooing out saccharine apologies. He just can't help it. And he leans down to place wet apology kisses in between the valley of your breasts, along your collarbones, his thumbs wiping the hot tears that bubbled from your eyes before kissing your eyelids and your lips until your breath even outs and the intrusion of him in your guts feels less heavy. The pervert in him likes to rest his hand on your tummy for the still moment, it sets off something in his brain being able to see the imprint of his dick in you. And when he presses down you clench against him, causing him to hiss, but he's determined not to move. If it can't be just the tip, at least you can cockwarm him for the time being. He certainly doesn't deserve a reward, but who's to say it can't be your reward for being such a pretty studious girlfriend.

it's not even five minutes before he's ramming into you and painting your guts white

[yanderenightmare]

JJK x curse ! darling

TW: NSFW, yandere, kidnapping, captive darling, degredation

fem reader

Can’t stop thinking about all the little vulnerable curse ! darlings that exist and how easily they fall prey to the merciless Jujutsu Sorcerers that go hunting them down for pleasure.

Geto Suguru x The Curse of Virginity

Doe-eyed, chubby-cheeked and makeup-free. She's always chewing her lip nervously. Spawned from all the sweet, silly virgins out there who're afraid of having their virginity robbed.

Though always so fucking wet for it at the same time that it’s embarrassing.

Geto got lucky and swallowed her up before anyone else could get a taste. Keeping her in his bedroom. He kisses her cheeks while fucking her into a moaning, squealing little mess every night. Making sure all her sweet little virgin fantasies are met and satisfied.

Gojo Satoru x The Curse of Beauty

A defiant little brat who thinks her beauty will enslave any and all men who dare look at her. Cold and dismissive, she never lets anyone touch her – because, in her mind, she’s a goddess no one’s worthy of having or holding.

But Gojo scoops her up and keeps her locked up in his place like a pet cat. Smiling at her awfully condescendingly when she warns him not to lay his filthy hands on her. 

She'll hiss at him, backing up with eyes going wide under the crushing realization that a pretty face stands little chance paralleled with a real force of strength. Understanding with a hitch in her throat how she better start using her looks to please rather than upset him.

Fushiguro Toji x The curse of Insecurity

The cutest little crybaby who thinks every aspect of her is unappealing and gross. She’s always trying to hide her tear-streaked face, making herself as small as she can by curling herself into a ball, hoping no one’s able to notice her. 

Toji just grins his devil-grin with her doughy thighs spread around his hips – keeping her wrists pinned above her head so she can’t do anything but whimper out small denials when he gruffs out how fucking adorable she is, thinking she can keep herself away from him.

Nanami Kento x The curse of Shame

Born from the guilt of every shameful nympho who can’t help but feel so awfully filthy after indulging in their dark desires. 

She's always naked and needy – quaking with heat and dewy from the fever of it – rubbing her thighs closed with such a sorry expression it would make any man rush to comfort her.

Nanami takes good care of her, though. The poor thing. She can’t go a single day without getting her wet little pussy pounded – always coming to him with her coy eyes and sultry whines, riding the thick muscles on his thigh with such a terribly needy pout on her lips. Begging him to make it okay, to sanction her so she needn’t feel so awfully sinful as she cums while still whimpering for his cock like a needy wonton little slut.

Zenin Naoya x The curse of misogyny

Born from all the chauvinistic self-indulgent thoughts men have of what a perfect woman should be – having resulted in the most plaint sweetest little thing – one who only feels comfortable when she's either welcoming her man home, cock-warming him during dinner or when he's rearranging her guts into the late night.

She's the happiest little bride with Naoya. Smiling nicely and humming while he lists all his troubles after coming home in a foul mood like always – she'll play with his hair until he leans into the touch with a moan, possessively tugging her closer – palming her soft skin with a pouty scowl on his face. She'll kiss his chin and tell him how grateful she is for everything he goes through, and it's exactly what he needs to hear – beginning to brush his lips over her skin, undressing her while she continues soothing him with her devotion – telling him she'd be lost without him, that he should take whatever he wants from her as a reward for working so hard, that he deserves it for being so good to her, that he's the strongest and smartest and greatest man in the whole world, and that she'll never ever want to be or do anything but serve him until the day she dies.

[wwooyology]

Six Feet Under | P.SH

「paring」 : ceo!sunghoon x stripper!fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.5k

「synopsis」 : even a busy ceo needs a well-deserved break to release some pent-up frustration and you just so happen to be that escape he finds himself returning to. he was married and you swore you'd never fall in love again, however, what happens when you find yourself wanting more?

「genre」 : smut, angst, forbidden romance

「warning」 : cheating (I do NOT condone cheating irl, this is for the sake of the story!), making out, pet names (baby, princess, kitten, good girl, also slut is used), unprotected sex (big no-no, wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral (m. receiving), cursing, mirror sex, teasing, mentions of breeding, creampie, choking, hair pulling, begging, hoon spanks the reader like once, public sex(?), lmk if I missed anything!

All you wanted in your life was to live a life of luxury, surrounded by pretty things. So much money that you live the rest of your life in peace with a fancy glass of champagne. A little life without having to deal with someone else, without commitment, without love. 

However, nothing in life came for free and you of course had to work for it. Just like any other normal Friday night here you were in a tiny two-piece that left very little to the imagination and heels that were ungodly tall. Twirling around the pole effortlessly, money pooling on the ground underneath you. The catcalls and provocative remarks weren’t anything new to you if anything they spurred you on more.

Just then you caught sight of a familiar face, sitting at the bar that trailed the length of the stage. His eyes watching you from over the rim of his glass, studying your every move. Sunghoon wasn’t a stranger to you, far from it actually.

Sunghoon was always here Friday nights, maybe Saturday if he could sneak out without raising too many questions. He was a busy man, running a well-known company wasn’t for the weak. This also meant that he pent up frustration from the earlier days of the week he needed to get out so where did he find himself? At the most popular strip club in all of Korea, watching the very dancer that has held him captive since the beginning.

Landing on your feet with a satisfying click of your heels you walked around the pole, your hand still tightly wrapped around the metal. Stopping in front of the black-haired male with a smirk, dropping to your knees you rolled hips forward, your hand in your hair gaining some hollars from the other drunk men around you. 

While many others had their gaze set on you, your gaze was solely on the man in front of you. Sunghoon’s eyes never left your figure as you crawled in his direction, giving him a better view down the skimpy top that hung loosely on your body.

“Hey, kitten give us another show, yeah?” A man that was standing next to Sunghoon reached forward tucking a wad of cash in the band of your bottoms before giving your thigh a small tap.

You leaned down on your forearms, giving him a wide smile and a wink before turning your gaze back to Sunghoon. Watching his chocolate brown eyes darken, his knuckles white as he gripped his glass a little too tight.

The look he was giving you was already enough to have heat pooling in your gut. 

Crawling forward, you reach forward tracing your manicured fingers along his jaw feeling the muscles tense under your touch. This wasn’t completely out of the norm for you so it didn’t raise any suspicion from those around you. However, you got a few jealous remarks as you leaned closer to Sunghoon, your fingers trailing down his neck right over his pulse point. You could feel his rapid heartbeat under your fingertips as your lips brushed his ear. Saying a simple ‘you know where to find me.’ before moving away just as the music faded, ending your performance.

--

Finding you was exactly what Sunghoon did, finding you sitting in front of your vanity in your dressing room. Your eyes flickered up to meet his dark ones through the mirror as the door clicked shut.

“Took you long enough.” Your words were more teasing than annoyed, however, the taller male didn’t say a word. Looking at you through the mirror with a hard-to-read expression.

Seeing as you weren’t going to get a response you let out a huff before grabbing your hair brush to untangle your silky strands. Your eyes trained on your reflection as you repeated the same cycle of pulling your hair through the thin bristles.

Until movement caught your eye, Sunghoon moved to stand behind you as you sat the hairbrush down. His slim fingers then traced along your jaw much like you had done to him just an hour ago. They were cold against your burning skin, leaving a chill to go down your spine.

Light gleaming off of the metal band that hugged his ring finger reminded you that the man behind you, the man who has fucked you senseless multiple times in this very room wasn’t a single man.

“What about your wife? Won’t she be wondering where her husband is so late?” You smirked at Sunghoon through the mirror.

His hand was quick to grab your face, squishing your cheeks tightly and you let out a surprised yelp.

“How many times do I have to tell you to keep her out of your mouth?” Sunghoon’s breath fanned over your ear, “or do I have to remind you what happened last time?”

Your throat went dry as the memories of him denying you release so many times flashed through your mind. Looking over you met his dark eyes, but no words left your tongue.

“Cat got your tongue princess?” The deep tone of his voice had you squeezing your thighs together, which of course didn’t go unnoticed by the dark-haired male.

His grip on your face loosened as he softly caressed your jaw, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. As if instinct took over you let your mouth fall open allowing him to insert the digit into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. 

You closed your lips, encasing his finger in your warm heat while he watched you with an intense gaze. Sucking softly, tongue swirling, drenching his digit in your saliva, eyes never leaving his.

“On your knees,” Sunghoon demanded, pulling his hand away from your face, and motioning to the ground. You obey, sitting on your knees on the cool faux wood ground, an ache already starting to form in your joints. But that would be a problem for future you to deal with.

Looking up you were met with Sunghoon’s blown-out pupils, the same cold expression on his face. However, there was a tinge of annoyance because of how slow you were going.

Reaching down he ran his fingers through your hair and you relished in the feeling of his nails softly scraping your scalp. Until he grabbed a fist full of your hair, tugging harshly causing a whine to leave your lips. He leaned down, his breath fanning your face, a dark look in his eyes that was enough to tell you that you were in for a long night.

“You know what to do, so-” He tugged on your hair again eliciting a whimper from your lips, “Do. It.”

Letting go of your hair he stood straight on his feet once more, watching as you hastily reached for his belt. Pulling it loose you let his slacks fall, pooling at his ankles and leaving him in his boxers. You ghosted your fingers over his bulge that was pressing against the fabric, “aw how long have you been like this?” You teased, but the dark spot was evidence enough that he had been like this for some time.

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched as you continued to tease him through his underwear. Opening his mouth to tell you to get on with it but he was cut off as a choked groan tore through his throat, your fingers squeezing him through the fabric. The sound alone was enough to have your core throbbing, and your underwear becoming uncomfortably sticky.

Looking up only added to the burning in your stomach, his bottom lip was trapped in his teeth, his eyes hooded watching your every move. You didn’t want to wait any longer to have a taste of him again, it’d be a lie if you said you weren’t addicted to him. Something about fucking around in secret excited you even more, though you did feel kinda bad for his wife.

The sound of your name falling from his lip in such a surly tone was enough to snap you out of your daze. Raising higher on your knees you grabbed the hem of his button-up shirt, pushing it up revealing his toned abdomen. Pressing feather-like kisses over the skin, trailing along the waistband of his underwear. Listening to the hushed curses that would fall from his lips gives you the confidence to press a firm kiss right on his v-line. 

Feeling his muscles contract under your skin spurred you on, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses along his abdomen. Stopping right under his belly button, nipping at the skin softly, his hand falling softly on your head.

“No marks.” He groaned as you nipped a bit harder at the skin. Oh how badly you wanted to mark his perfect porcelain skin, but you knew better than to disobey. Pulling away you let his shirt fall back down, hooking your fingers in the band of his underwear. Tugging them down, you let the fabric join his pants on the ground.

You take him in one hand, pressing a thumb against his leaking tip resulting in a low groan to tear through his lips. Spitting in your palm you replace your other hand, rubbing up and down his shaft. Your saliva and his precum allow your movements to become fluid. His hand gripped the back of your vanity chair, knuckles turning white. You bring your head closer and lick a stripe up his cock, eyes flickering up watching as his head falls back soft moan-like sighs leaving his lips. Swirling your tongue around his tip, the taste of precum tingled in your mouth causing you to hum softly, making the volume of his moans increase. “Fuck princess, stop- fuck, stop teasing.”

Releasing his vice-like grip on the chair, Sunghoon gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail. Looking down he’s met with your lust-filled gaze, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight. Your face was painted a beautiful shade of red and your pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper, his hold on your hair tightening as his hips buck forward into your throat, making you gag at the sudden intrusion.

“Hmm fuck baby,” He hums as he thrusts his hips forward once again shivering at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. You focus your breathing through your nose, allowing him to take charge. His head falls back again, his pace picking up causing tears to prick in the corner of your eyes, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs.

“Why talk about my wife, when- fuck, when you can just suck my cock like the little slut you are.” He growls, picking up his pace once more taking the air right out of your lungs as you hum around him. Your thighs and knees burning in protest from sitting in the same position for so long, but the sight of him getting lost in the feeling of your throat was enough for you to want to endure it.

“Shit…” Sunghoon suddenly pulled out of your mouth, afraid that he’d cum then and there. Tugging on your hair, enough for a whine to fall from your swollen lips. “Get up.” his raspy tone instantly had you swooning as you scrambled back to your feet. He kicked his pants and underwear off his ankles. Latching his lips to yours, he groaned at the taste of himself on your tongue. He pushes you back until your lower back hits the vanity behind you, lips trailing down your neck as he picks you up, setting you on the surface.

Your fingers comb through his hair as he sucks on the hot skin of your neck, his canines scraping across your pulse point have a shiver going down your spine. He could feel your heart rate accelerate under his lips as he colored your skin in shades of reds and purples.

“Hoon, wait- fuck!” You exclaim as he bites down on the junction of your shoulder and neck, the stinging makes your head spin. 

“You’re mine.” He growled against your skin, fingers undoing your robe. You both know that wasn’t true, you would never truly be his, he was married and you’d rather be buried six feet under before committing to a serious relationship. But just for the night, you’d pretend. 

“My little slut to ruin.” His lips latched back on yours in a fervent kiss, teeth clashing, drool seeping from the corner of your lips. Your finger worked in a rush to undo his white button-up, desperate to feel his skin on you. Once the shirt was undone you ran your fingers down his torso, nails scraping his skin softly.

His lips never left your skin as he pushed the robe off of your shoulders, letting it lay on the table behind you, fingers tracing the lace fabric of the underwear set you had changed into. A low groan fell from his lips as he leaned down by your ear, “You’re fucking insatiable.” 

You whine as he squeezed one of your boobs, harshly before letting his fingers trailed down, parting your thighs further. He pulled away to watch as your eyes pleaded with him to touch you. 

“Hoon, please.” You squirm under his touch as his finger brushes over your core.

“Please what princess?” He smirked, enjoying the way your eyebrows scrunched together in desperation, your fingers wrapped loosely around his forearm while the other gripped the table underneath you.

“Touch me please,” A soft moan slipped past your lips as he ghosted over your clothed clit before whining when he took his hand back to your thigh.

“But I am touching you.” Frustration bubbled in your chest as you gazed up at him, the want to smack that smirk off his face was strong, but not as strong as the want of his fingers in you. “You mean like this?” He traced the area right before where you really wanted him, you whined, grip tightening on his arm.

“God dammit Sunghoon, just fuck me with your fingers please!” You exclaim and before you could even blink his other hand wrapped around your throat, limiting your oxygen supply.

“You better watch your fucking tone princess.” His lips ghost over your own as his other hand moves to cup your heat making you let out a choked moan. His fingers press against your clothed cunt feeling you soak your underwear further, “you’re so wet baby, fuck.”

The lack of proper oxygen and his teasing touch was making your head spin. Sunghoon kissed you deeply as he moved your underwear to the side, feeling your warm and slick folds. You whimper against his lips as his thumb finds your clit, circling it sharply.

“Only I can make you this wet, not those other assholes out there, me.” He growled as he inserted his finger into you and you cried out, back arching and nails digging into his skin. Your head was spinning, everything becoming overwhelming. He let go of your neck allowing you to breathe properly before finding purchase on your hip as he worked his finger in and out of you.

“Fuck… Hoon,” Moans fell from your lips as he pushed another finger into your sopping pussy, picking up his pace. Your head falls back in pure bliss allowing Sunghoon to latch his lips to your neck once more.

Sunghoon relished in your scent and the way you wrapped around his fingers so perfectly knowing that he would have to stop soon, his dick painfully hard and he wanted to be in you. Tilting your head back up you cupped his face with your free hand, bringing his attention to your already fucked out expression.

“Hoon-” You were cut off as his fingers brushed over your sweet spot causing a loud moan to tear through your lips. He smirked devilishly as he kissed the corner of your lips.

“What were you saying, baby?” He teased as he abused your sweet spot, pulling you closer and closer to your release. 

“Please, Hoon, I need you, so bad.” You were growing too impatient and quite frankly so was he.

“Need my cock princess?” He teased, watching as you nodded your head furiously, lips caught between your teeth. Pulling his drenched fingers out of your pussy making you whine softly before he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you to your feet.

Your legs felt like jelly and if Sunghoon hadn’t been holding on to you, you surely would have fallen to your knees. Before you could even process it Sunghoon had you turned around and bent over the surface of the vanity.

“Now be a good girl and watch as I fuck you.” His finger trailed up the back of your thigh before grabbing a handful of your ass. You hummed loving the feeling of his warm skin on you, eyes fluttering shut.

A cry left your lips, eyes snapping open at the sudden sting on your asscheek. “What did I say, princess?” Sunghoon rubbed the red skin with his thumb, eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

Pushing your underwear to the side once more, lining his cock up with your entrance, eyes never leaving yours even as he slid in with a sudden thrust. A loud cry was torn from your lungs, head fell down at the sudden feeling.

Sunghoon grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up and making you look in the mirror. He didn’t give you a chance to fully adjust before he started thrusting his hips at a fast pace, grip tight on both your hair and hip. The movement had your eyes rolling as broken moans fell from your lips.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock like the slut you are.” Sunghoon chuckles, ramming his hips into yours, driving his cock deeper into your pussy eliciting moans from you.

“H…hoon.” You whine out, reaching behind you, nails digging into the skin of his hip. He hissed before releasing your hip, grabbing your wrist instead. Pulling until your back arched and a pornographic moan left your mouth.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried your hardest to keep looking in the mirror like he told you to, but the pleasure was just becoming too much. Letting your head hang, you whimper as Sunghoon pulls your head right back up.

“Am I fucking you that good that you can’t even listen?” He mocks with a smug smirk, hand leaving your hair to wrap around your neck, pulling your body flush against his as he keeps up with the animalistic pace. A gasp escapes your parted lips at the change, almost doubling over when the head of his cock brushes over your sweet spot.

“‘S too deep-'' Another cry cuts you off as Sunghoon’s fingers find your clit, abusing the small bundle of nerves. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, falling back on his shoulder.

“Fuck- you’re squeezing my dick so tight.” He groaned, feeling his climax creeping up, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer, but he’ll be damned if you don’t cum before him. Picking up the pace of his fingers on your clit had you crying out again.

“Hoon-””Don’t worry princess, I’ll fill your sweet pussy so good, knock you up maybe so everyone knows your mine.” His words didn’t register in your foggy mind, your ears ringing as you felt so close.

With one final thrust of his hips, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, soaking his cock that still pounded into your abused hole. He groaned as you tightened around him like a vice, his orgasm right there.

“Too much…” You whined, grabbing his hand that had left your clit, now on your hip. 

“Just a bit more, I’m almost there.” His once deep and husky voice came out almost whiney as he continued to thrust harshly, throwing you into overstimulation. “I’mma fill you to the brim,” He bit down on your shoulder and you clamped down on him, tipping him over the edge. A loud groan leaves his lips as he pumps his hot, thick cum into you, filling you to the brim just as he promised.

His hips slowed to a stop and he released your throat, wrapping his arms around your body encasing you in his warmth. The room was filled with heavy breathing as you both came down from your highs. Sunghoon whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you held onto his forearm.

You wished you could stay like this forever, in his warmth, his scent, his touch, his taste, stuffed by him, but…

Your thoughts were cut off as a shrilling ringing filled the room, reminding you that this was the end. It was probably a good thing because again he was married and you’d rather be caught dead before falling in love again. Yet here you are hoping for just a few more minutes with him.

He really was going to have you six feet under.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇ��ɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[sukioyakio]

“Use me then”- R. 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

PART TWO IS OUT

Sukuna hadn’t been the best person in your life,he was a dumb fuck and he knew that.He knew he shouldn’t have left you alone when you needed him the most.

When you were pregnant with his baby girl.He knew he fucked up.Moreover his whole life has been fucked up,finding his parents died in a young age and how he knew that violence was the thing that bring him a long way.

Foster home wasn’t just hell but a free for all,only those who are willing to make a name out of themselves will get to see a future themselves.He would have to learn that having feeling is just a useless thing.

After being heartbroken by someone he thought he could love,after being someone punching bag for entertainment and being beaten almost to death.Scars all over him with each of them being a reminder of how bad it was for him.

He didn’t get to live a normal life when he was younger constantly fighting for himself.He became more cruel and more cold,no longer giving a fuck about anyone else.

He knew that nothing he could make up for his own mistakes for treating like you did anything to deserve it.

You both knew each other from college but that not when you guys started dating,you started to date after a one and a half year later.

You fell for him despite of his frigid behavior.You wanted to prove that you would be the best girlfriend.You were just a hopeless romantic and you didn’t care about his cold behavior.

And he just accepted it to only used you for his benefits.

But no matter what you did he’ll just blocked you out and constantly being used.And when you guys did it,he forgot to put the condom on and so a week later you had called him when he was flirting with some other girl at a bar.

he just told you that he’ll come later.

While he was cheating with you with someone else,you were excited about it,to tell him about the future you had thought about.And how you couldn’t wait to be a mother.

But when you had open the front doors to your apartment,something in your gut told you that you weren’t going to like this talk but you were love sick idiot for him and completely ignored that feeling.

When you were talking about how your day went,being animated and all.He nonchalantly told you just to get to the point.

You had such a big smile on when you announced it. “I’m pregnant! Sukuna I’m having your baby,we’ll be parents”

You looked at him with warm smile to only see his eyebrows furrowed down in an utter disbelief.You said it again guessing that he didn’t hear you correctly but his face made a unreadable expression as he started to walk towards the door.

All in that moment you could almost hear the tearing sound of your heart being broken into pieces and it hurt.

“Sukuna?”

“Sukuna?”

“Sukuna!?”

“SUKUNA?!?”

You yelled at him while running after him grabbing his wrists pleading with him,cause you didnt know if you’ll be okay with just yourself supporting a baby.Your lips were trembling and your every breath was like it was venom had token your lungs.

Tears were flowing down your cheeks.And he just stood there with complete silence.You began to beg for him to talk,for you guys to talk about it together.

“Please don’t l-leave me , p-please” you choke on your tears.Red optics eye bore into her widened,watering eyes.Finally saying something to you.

“I think it just better to break up” He says that and nothing more and then snatched off his hand now walking away leaving you alone with hot painful tears flowing down your cheeks.

The only thing you heard was the sounds of his Shoes slowly getting quieter until it was just silence.Your heart right there summer in the depths of your chest broken by your vision of love.

It was a vast expanse of emptiness,where even the smallest sound wouldn’t dare not tread the silence. [*]

A few years later Sukuna was now more stable than before,Having a big success with his company.

Making collaboration with other big brands and marketers.Having multiple modeling teams to make sure of his presence is well known and that only made a fan base of him.He was making multiple big deals that people would only dream off.

He was particularly smart at making sure that his company wouldn’t go down anything time soon.Even after all this success in Japan he would still have much more work to accomplish in others countries but he doesn’t have to worry about that right now.

He now had everything that he never had when he was young and everything he’ll need.Every decision he made was to make it all work in the end.

Right?

But some wounds weren’t meant to heal and some will eventually hurt you more than others.

When he left you he thought that he would be the best for him and for you too.He didn’t want any of unavoidable feeling of love,it wouldn’t do anything but drag him. He already knew at some point he was going to break up with you sometime soon.

But your voice of pain still rings throughout his head after all these years.Sometimes even coming back as nightmares or some sorts.

He thought that maybe if he just have nights stands he would get over it.It irritated him for some reason.He didn’t need some extra feelings of you.

But nothing worked,and now he’s sit in his office at random point of time thinking about what was the gender of his baby.

But now he knows that he is the worst father ever to have.And he didn’t have to hear those words from anyone else to tell him that.The better thing to do is just to move forward and forget about it.

It was just a normal day walking around the city without the need of being followed or being bothered by the paparazzi or whatever the case would be.

The sun light shining the city with a bright golden glow making the city warm.And with the sun shining it’s companion with the wind breeze keeping citizens of Tokyo from dying from the heat.In perfect sense it was a great day to go out and enjoy the day off.

Multiple citizens walked through the streets of Tokyo the streets were filled with lifeness sparkling with color all around and people walking with a smile or with a sense of urgent need to get to a certain place.While Sukuna didn’t have any place to go to so he just walked throughout the city even the high crime rates part of Tokyo.

The only reason he wasn’t getting bothered was because he had a black washable dye and it work wonders and having his tattoos covered by makeup. No one recognize him.

Now he made his way towards a park,to get away from the crowd of people.His body walking down the entrance of it.Completely in his head space enjoying the scenery.Not minding the children running around with their sequels.

Until he heard a voice in the group of parents with their children who were playing or watching their children play.

A distant Laughter came through the group there;A laugh he knew too well.His legs taking him towards that voice without even noticing his actions. His large figure making it way to move around,his eyes looking around in such an intense manner.

His body froze,his mind going silent.As his almost blood like eyes widened.His heart slowly beating against his chest.

He spotted a child with striking pink long hair with such a radiant laughter,a young girl that is made his heart began to filled with warmth.

Something that he thought was meaningless.

Sukuna’s heart raced with uncertainty as he faced the unknowingly future.

He just stood there watching the girl with an urge to ask the girl question.Whether if the girl dyed the hair pink or did she ever get to see her dad or-And then you showed In his view.

“There you are,you little troll” you spoke with a playful voice,grabbing your daughter and swinging her around in the air.You were smiling so care carefullyfree,with the little spawn of joy giggling wildly.

“PffhaHahhaha!!Stop it mom!Your gonna get me dizzy if uou continue” The young girl says as her laughter danced through the air like a soft melody.

The world blurs itself out as he watches you.when he sees you he immediately knows that you were something that shouldn’t have been token so dryly;all the nights were you were there for him,all the love you spent on him and what did he gave you in return.

Nothing,nothing not even a small amount of time of love to you.You have every right to hate him for that.

There a lot of ‘what if’s’ in his mind but one thing is certain that he would’ve had a family.

He probably didnt know that he was looking at you guys to long.That was until your eyes meet his making eye contact.

Their stares remained interlocked, neither of them making a move to look away.It you could tell who is his even with all the disguise.Your eyes widened with disbelief as Your face turned into an icy expression.You turned your head now forcing yourself to walk forward paying attention to your daughter that was in your arms.

Sukuna soul felt burdened with the echoes of her sorrows.

“It doesn’t matter now,at least that their better without me” Sukuna spoke in his mind,but he’s heart felt heavy like it knew that if he thinks by walking away from all this is going to make it better then he wrong.

Blinded by his own heart he walks after you,keeping his composure straight and stern.As he reaches his hand to lay his hand on your shoulder,getting your attention and your daughter as well.

Your head turned around to see his body but you stare up to see his ironic red eyes the same one you have nightmares about,the same one that broke your heart a thousand times.

The same blood like eyes that you fall in love with.

Your heart sting with dreadful pain just from looking at him,you knew it was him even if he’s hide his most dominant features.

Your daughter looks at you with concern that you don’t mistake it for sadness.

You place her down on the ground and whipser her something softly,to not her pretty face worry about it.You told her simply to wait and sit in the grass until she come back then they will get ice cream after and which she does.

Now paying mind to him as you changed your expression to the same icy expression.

“What do you want” You said straight to the point as you won’t allow yourself to break down again infront of him.

Nothing come out,because he didn’t know what to say to you,Nothing came out of his mouth.He usually always had something to say.

You couldn’t take it,you hated the man that stand in front of you.

”I doubt you’ll forgive me for all of this-

you instantly interrupted him.

“it too late for apologize Sukuna,you already showed me that I’ll have to be guarded when it comes to giving people my heart.”

You said heartlessly,almost with coming out hurt.But you didn't stop there,all the suspense emotions were coming out.

“God I hate you! I hate you for leaving me!!A simple Fucking sorry ISNT going to make up for the things you made me go through! You-tears falling down your cheeks rapidly-… I fucking hate you.I hate that I fell for you,g-Gave you my heart for what?”

You wipe off your tears.Your voice rising in pitch as your eyes brow knitting together in frustration and hands clenching tightly in a ball into fist.

“B-but I’ll n-never . . Hate you for her,for g-giving me a beautiful g-girl”

you said with a sad smile that quickly removed from your face,Your chest rising up and down.As you could hear the voices of the kids giggling in the background.

The tension between you and him was unpalatable,the air was so thick that it felt like he was going to suffocate.

A pair of warm hands warp around you pulling you into a warm embrace.

“I-I -a heavy sigh came out of his mouth- . . . Sorry,I don’t -no I know that you won’t forgive me.You have every reason to yell at me, . . tell me that I’m shit for everything.” His voice swiftly He felt your hands were pushing him away but he continued on his embrace.He could fell your tears dampen his clothes.

“L-let go of me . . . I Don’t h-have time for you-u,i don’t need you anymore in my life,Sukuna.So it better if we just don’t talk.”

His throat felt so dry like as if he didn’t drink any water.He fucked up so badly.A wound that would never heal.You politely removed your body from his embrace and wipe your face with your hands wiping off the tears.Now walking away from him and towards where your daughter was.

The wind blows gently through your body as you see your daughter playing around with a boy with black hair;smiling with joy, making you form a small smile.

You felt a hand on your shoulder immediately knowing it was Sukuna,you brushed off his hand off your shoulder.Before you could even get anything out your mouth.

“Use me then”

A shiver ran down her spine as his voice took on an eerie, otherworldly quality of vulnerability.That made her question if it was the wind that was playing with her mind or it just herself thinking that she heard him in such a state.

”what” You said with disbelief lancing your voice,Your uncertainty was reflected in your hesitant movements and furrowed brow.

You tilted your head in confusion,your eyes trying to discern the almost-too-serious expression on Sukuna face.Just for Sukuna repeat his words.

“Use me then” He said in a serious manner,His red eyes looking straight at you.He knew what he was saying was stupid and wouldn’t cure anything but it worth trying.

Your eyes widens lanced with disbelief.you let out a huff out laugh as you ran your finger though your hair.

“What . . No Sukuna,I-a deep shaky sigh gets out of your lungs- I told you I want nothing to deal with you” You said with a bit of raspiness to your voice from the crying and yelling.You eyes finally looking at Sukuna’s eyes.His eyes usually showed a stern cold expression but right now it soften and regretful glazes upon his blood like eyes.

“Use me then, Use me for money,for paying your bills,driving you and her placing,Use me for anything,it doesn’t matter” He said as you just notice how close he got to you.You could hear it now,it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you;you could hear that vulnerability in his voice so much clearer.

You didn’t know what to say or respond to him,your mouth was shut and like it sealed up.That until you felt a strong hit towards your knee,to only see your daughter squealing.

“MOMM!! Hahah-HELp me!!Before Cole Comes and get me!!” Your daughter says with A loud giggle as She let go of your legs and runs a distance away from you and Sukuna to get playfully tackled by a boy with black hair and purple eyes.

You hadn’t completely forgotten his offer,You take a deep breath before looking at your phone to see how much time as pass.

His eyes were dead set on you but You can see that he’s eyes had a bit of amusement in them.To you you could recognize him even if he had black hair or hide his tattoos on his face and body,you could still tell it him from his red ironic eyes.His body cast a shadow over you.

“I-ill think about this later” You said,now completely walking towards your daughter.With head now full of thoughts now.As you smiling see your daughter ‘Nova ryomen’ Tackling the boy down with a playful smirk on her soft cheek.

You told her that it time to go home and to say goodbye to the boy,which she kinda refused to do having a big sad pout of your cute little face.But she eventually did,as you hold her hand in and then taking her to a ice cream shop for her.You order with a genuine smile on your lips as you watched her eat her ice cream while you guys were walking towards the house.

“use me then”

his words were repeated in your head like a curse.You don’t need him anyway right?You just gotta keep moving forward even if life isn’t the best for you but it could be and will be better for nova.That night you had received a text from a unknown person but you ignore it went to sleep.

Credits to my lovely editor(my bestie) who I made her read this 🫶.

tag list: @10yo-anonnie @scoobysnakz @lynxslokley @kenntolog

+anyone want to be tagged in part2

@mononijikayu

Made by @sukioyakio

reblogs, likes and shares are always welcome and appreciated

If anyone has any comments of suggestion of part two then be my guest

PART TWO IS OUT NOW!!

[machveil]

Wait but continuing that loser!konig and overstimulation when his only job was to not cum before you did-

That part you wrote(which absolutely made me feral btw you write so well I adore scrounging your blog) about madly bucking his hips and don't mind if he stills for a moment??? Yeah that.

So konig has been unpurposefully edging you unknowingly because whenever you're so close to that orgasm he stilled and spilled his first and you're whining- what he didn't know was you were whining from his accidental edging session over and over again

YUP haha I felt very evil writing that, sat there twirling my fake mustache - laughing and kicking my legs like a villain

CW: Loser!König, overstimulation, edging, no condom (wrap it before you tap it)

Loser!König who really doesn’t mean to edge and overstimulate you, he just can’t help but cum when he’s got you limp on his chest, whining and moaning next to his ear. if anything, it’s really your fault, Liebling, you shouldn’t have tied his wrists behind his back! if it were up to König his hands would be gripping the fat of your hips and bouncing you on his cock while he cums, fucking himself through his orgasm and helping you towards yours

no, instead Loser!König lets out a choked sob as he cums, hips stilling and legs twitching as babbles out another slew of apologies. you were so close this time too, nearly pushed over that blissful edge before he came to a stop. you can feel him leaking out of you, warmth seeping down your thighs as you hiccup - your third ruined orgasm. “I’m sorry— Bitte— Bitte, lass mich es nochmal versuchen.”, his voice is strained as he thrusts up into you again, a weak stutter of his hips before his pace picks up again

it almost feels like too much, receiving a harsh fucking from your weepy mess of a man, but never reaching your peak. your legs feel like jelly at this point despite Loser!König doing all the work. you can’t help but cry out, desperate, hot tears trailing down your cheeks and pooling on his shoulder, “Kö— König, baby, please—“, slurred words tumbling from your lips as he grunts and moans. it’s nearly heartbreaking hearing him stutter out pitiful little ‘I know’s and ‘I’m sorry’s. he wanted so badly to be good for you and he’s messed it all up, a combination or guilt and pleasure bubbling in his gut again

Loser!König who doesn’t realize you’d reached behind him to untie his wrists — only gasping when you manhandle his hands to rest on your hips. you were probably better off letting him edge you accidentally, as soon as his palms meet your hips he’s got them in a bruising grip, thanking you for letting him touch you. his sorries immediately turning into poorly spoken praise and mumbled ‘Ich liebe dich’s. finally, your well-deserved orgasm has you crying out into the crook of his neck, König’s pace faltering as you squeeze him so tightly

it would have been the perfect end to the session, getting your sweet release and passing out next to Loser!König… it would have been. choked little gasp leaving your lips, König doesn’t let up, hands making you meet his harsh thrusts as you whine. “Another— I’m sorry, you deserve another one— Gib mir noch einen, Schatz.”, with his hands free now, it’s only right to work you up to another orgasm, right?

[ynbabe]

LOGAN FIC REQ!! (i love your messages au smmm btw THEYRE SO GOOD AHH) ok anywayssss

can you pls do logan x super super famous!reader.(preferably an actress but i don't mind any) so both of them are dating but are trying to keep it a secret since they've only been dating for a short amount of time. one night they decide to go on a date but paparazzi was there and it was going VIRAL. reader regrets not double checking if there would be any paps. sooo then everyone starts investigating on logan as the internet does and since everyone doesn't watch f1, they only see logan crashing and blah blah blah so they see him as a "bad driver" and he starts getting A LOT of hate because people think reader deserves better. they also start comparing him to reader's "more better and famous ex". reader and logan take time off social media and people think they broke up until reader releases an instagram post defending him and yeah a lot of fluff and hurt/comfort.

idk if this made sense but pls feel free to change anything!! again i love your work sm 💕‼️

Hiiii, omg thank you so much! Love love LOVE the fic idea and without any further ado- here's the fic, it isn't exactly as the prompt but I hope you love it-

Keep my wife's name OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x famous! reader

As a celebrity, you don’t often have the privilege of privacy. The cameras seemed to follow you everywhere, from outside your house to the restaurants you ate at and even to private celebrations with your friends and family.

Your last relationship had gone south exactly because of the paparazzi, making assumptions about the seriousness of your relationship and even spreading pregnancy and marriage rumours, scaring the man away.

You had wanted to take it slow, heart broken from your previous relationship but then you met Logan and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breath, like you could do what you wanted without being judged.

You knew who he was and he knew who you were and that was perfect.

The both of you had spent a perfect week in your villa in Bali, it had been risky but no one caught on, surprisingly.

You thought your luck would continue and you threw causation to the wind, not asking your assistant to check for paparazzi at the sushi restaurant you were going to in Shanghai.

Unfortunately, you were caught just as you were leaving the restaurants waking up to a host of notifications, some good and some gut-wrenching.

Logan on the other hand tried not to throw up, his eyes wide, you could tell he was scared. Would his team drop him? No, no. Why would they? Right? Oh God.

"Logan, Logs, baby are you okay?" You called out, dropping to your knees and cradling his face in your palms.

f1waglife

f1waglife Y/n nation how are we feeling tonight? Logang? How are we? This was definitely not the couple we expected but is this the couple we deserve?

Username OH HELL NAW- WHY IS THIS FLORIDA MAN DATING QUEEN Y/N?????

Username Y/n come home the kids miss you

Username Omg mans is in love

Username Get someone to look at you the way Logan looks at Y/n

You saw some of the comments and while some made you smile, some made you want to slap a bitch, unfortunately, a scandal would not help, so you called up your PR manager, and the post was gone within a minute.

Logan's race had gone sour, with him getting an unfair penalty and points on his licence. The already poor start to your day had turned even worse when you saw Logan tiredly storm into the room collapsing on the bed, burying his face in his pillow.

"What... the..... fuck?" He screamed into the pillow making you smile a little. The small habit he'd picked up from you, screaming into the pillows as a way to think, one that you had picked up from one of the characters you played a long time ago.

"Why do people even care about who's dating who? That's so stupid." He rolled his eyes.

"Don't we binge Keeping Up with the Kardashians every Monday?" You asked.

"That's not the same though-" He paused and switched his phone off, he already didn't have access to his own Instagram, having given access to his manager a long time ago, he now didn't even want to talk to his friends or colleagues many of whom just wanted an autograph from you along with an explanation how he could be with you.

He turned around, pulling the blanket on him, tired from the day.

You pulled up Twitter as a habit but were greeted with a terrible chain of tweets judging every aspect of your relationship and even worse criticizing Logan without even knowing anything about the sport.

"What the fuck-" You cursed out loud, you knew your fanbase was slightly (an underestimation) larger than your boyfriends but how could they call themselves your fans, when you have been a fan of Logan's since his first season in f1? All your co-stars American or not knew your borderline obsession for the man, every race week you'd be posting Williams on your story, how could they still hate on him?

You looked next to you, where your boyfriend was sleeping a small scowl on his pretty face.

PR be damned, he didn't deserve this.

y/nl/nofficial

y/nl/nofficial To anyone who calls themselves my fans and talks shit about my lovely boyfriend, UNFOLLOW ME ASAP. Logan is the kindest, sweetest, most talented man I've had the pleasure to know and he deserves better than the bullshit he gets from some assholes who don't know anything about him. To quote my friend Will: KEEP MY WIFES NAME OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTHS-

username oop sis snapped

username you tell em girl

username LOVE a gf whos rabidly in love with her bf

username now why would y'all try and shame Mother's boyfriend when all she does is post about him for race weekends??

username fr shes been a logan fan before logan fans have been logan fans

Williams We stan a protective gf 😮‍💨

username admin you'll always be famous y/nl/nofficial Cant help it he looks really pretty in blue 🥰 username oh she in love love

username shall we start calling him Father?

The way I was struggling to write this fic cause I had to write bad things about Pookie Bear Logie is insane. But- I hope yall like it, please do let me know in the comments or reblogs!!!

[chokifandom]

—☆ 10. run away

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note: this chapter contains written content! it is a bit of an angsty chapter though :( wc: 825 man honestly nun of this ain't that serious i promise but y/n is just a really anxious lil one so it feels that way 😞

“nagi!” he’s sitting next to the waterfall outside the bioscience block— you wave at him as you start speedwalking to the bench he’s on. the orange of the sunset illuminates his face, and he looks like an evening snowscape. he looks up from his phone, sleepy eyes as he greets you. “hey.”

“you didn’t have to wait for me. i know you would rather be home right now, probably,” you say with a sigh as you take the spot next to him. his tall frame still manages to tower over even as you sit. he cards one hand through his hair— nagi likes the feeling of touching his hair all the way from the root to the tip— an oddly specific quirk, but it’s something that grounds him. “i had to stay back for a bit too, so it would’ve been more of a hassle for me to go back to my place and come back here…”

it’s a… well, it’s not a complete lie, but it’s not a complete truth either. an excuse would probably be the best name for it. he did have football practice with his team, but it ended at the same time it always did— and then he texted you, asking you when you'd be done, and then he decided that he’d just wait until you were done. screw it, he just wanted to see you, even if it meant going out of his way to do so. you lift your legs onto the bench and lean against his side and chuckle. “that just sounds like ‘i really missed you and i just wanted to see you again’ to me.”

“you’re right,” nagi agrees all too quickly. your response might just have been a humorous quip, but there’s no denying it. “you can’t just say things like that! and- and be so nonchalant about it!” you crane your neck against his shoulder to get a worm’s-eye view from your awkward position. he feels his heartbeat get quicker from the sudden proximity, and it takes him a significant effort to keep a straight expression. he looks down at your face, a playful smirk gracing his features while the redness creeps into your own. “but i mean it—” he cloaks his words with more playfulness and faux innocence (but he really does mean it). he was never one to care for other people’s feelings much but now he finds himself wondering how you felt.

“you’re making it worse.” you turn your neck back down to bury your face in your hands. such banter has become a frequent between the two of you, but you still wonder if he means everything he said. well, you know nagi means whatever he says so it would be more accurate to say you were questioning if you deserved it or not.

it’s a hassle to lie, and to keep up with the lie, and you unfortunately know better than to dispute that fact— which leads you to a realisation about a certain something, so raw and pure. nagi’s certainty of his feelings was something that awed you, but now that the subject of his feelings was you? you find that the awe turns into sickening fear. twisted vines grip at your heart and suddenly you feel sick from the anxiety, a constant barrage of ‘he deserves better’ running through your mind.

“come on, we should leave.” your feet are back on the ground, but no sooner had those words left your mouth, a strong arm slithers around your waist, effectively restraining you against the body of its owner. you’re momentarily taken aback by the strength of his grip, but nagi is an athlete after all. “h-hey…” you were always the avoidant sort, and you wanted nothing more than to remove yourself from the situation at hand, the anxiety welling up in your gut and knocking the air out of your lungs. “mm, we’ll leave in a bit.”

it doesn’t take much protest and clawing at his arm from your end to persuade him; he gives up with a groan and frees you from his vice grip. “anything wrong?” nothing escapes the ever observant— he can see the way you suddenly start avoiding his eyes and fiddling with your fingers. “oh, it’s nothing, really… actually, i feel kind of sick. can we, um, put this off to another day?”

a bold-faced lie. nagi knows your tells well enough by now, and the sudden shift in your attitude bothers him— but he can’t find it in himself to press you on the matter. his expression returns to its usual neutral state, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s caught on to your lie; hell, why were you questioning it? he must have, but you decide you don’t care enough either, for now. “alright, i guess… see you tomorrow then.”

“see you tomorrow!” running away is all you’re good at. nagi starts feeling like you’re out of reach.

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@skullvgirl @8x9d @mxkvlio @bvttersywt @gigiiiiislife @thebestsetter @3stela @kaemaybae @tecchouss @haitanibros0007 @definitelynotanalien @sun00ssunshine @noomimi @ocyeanicc @saechiro @call-me-prodigy @whoskaikai @laqey678 @bleepei @oreopoodle @froggie-zusya23 @lleuviennae @egoistlino @rwbie @tojirin @morgyyyyyyy @pookalicious-hq @sunathnker @nanalover240 @sara4uuu @90s-belladonna @st4rdusttx @s4-mmy

[1425fivefive]

Omg a medieval au landoscar would go so hard !

anon, this ask plus thinking about lando taking off oscar's armor plus this incredible art of oscar did inspire me to write a little landoscar medieval au drabble (1.8k words, nsfw below the cut)

Lando’s gaze was fixed on where his fingers were working to free the buckle connecting Oscar’s breast plane to the pauldron covering his shoulder. Lando’s brow furrowed as he tugged the leather through the clasp, little pink tongue just poking between his lips. Every move was careful, methodical, like Oscar was a horse who might spook if Lando moved too quickly.

It was always strange, those first few moments after Oscar returned from the battlefield to the manor house where they’d set up camp, the bedroom full of furs and velvet and flickering candles. Remembering how to let himself be touched softly, handled gently. How to let someone get close to him without anticipating a dagger to the gut.

Lando managed to get the plates covering Oscar’s right arm off, before moving automatically to Oscar’s other side. He skimmed a thumb over Oscar’s jaw as he went, just the hint of a touch. He knew not to push too quickly. That Oscar needed time to remember how to be soft.

Months ago, when the first skirmishes had broken out, Oscar had thought he needed it hard and fast. He’d ride back from the field, leap off his horse mid-stride, toss the reins to a squire without a backward glance. By the time he reached Lando’s rooms he’d already be halfway out of his armor, pieces scattered behind him along the hall. 

Lando would be hunched over his desk, studying miniatures, pouring over battle plans, the slim golden crown Lando wore in public tossed carelessly onto a chair. Oscar had thought about asking Lando to wear it while Oscar bedded him. Watch the crown prince fall apart for him.

But Oscar preferred when Lando was stripped free of it all, naked and honest and wanting. When Oscar could pretend that they were nothing more than two men taking pleasure in one another. That they had no titles other than their names.

In those first few weeks of war, though, Oscar felt like he’d forgotten how to be anything other than his title. He’d shove Lando over the table and fuck him rough and fast, fingers digging into Lando’s slim hips, sucking and biting at Lando’s skin.

It never felt good, exactly. He felt no better than an animal, mounting and thrusting until he came, but Oscar had thought that maybe it was what he deserved. On the battlefield he felt more animal than man, driven only by fear and desperation and the primal, all-consuming need to survive. He felt like something base and beastly. Something made purely for fighting and fucking. 

But one evening, as Oscar struggled to tug Lando’s breeches over his arse, Lando had twisted around to face him, resting a palm on the center of Oscar’s chest, and whispered, “Let me.”

Oscar had let Lando steer him to the bed, using nothing more than the soft press of his palm against Oscar’s chest. Let Lando push him back against the velvet bedding. Let Lando ride him, slow and steady and careful. Let Lando press kisses to each of Oscar’s fingers, his neck, his lips.

Oscar felt like he was remembering himself during it. Remembering that he was something capable of gentleness.

Eventually, he’d remembered himself enough to slide a hand into Lando’s curls, marveling at the way Lando leaned into his touch, and didn't shy away. Like he knew Oscar would never hurt him. Oscar wrapped his other hand around Lando’s cock and Lando shivered above him, letting out a breathless Oscar. 

Oscar drank in every slow roll of Lando’s hips, Lando’s quiet gasps and breathy pants as Oscar stroked over Lando’s cock. When Lando came with a hitched moan, spilling hotly over Oscar’s stomach, Oscar tugged Lando down into a desperate kiss. Lando was still shuddering above him, unable to do anything more than pant into Oscar’s mouth as he rode out his orgasm. But Oscar didn’t care, couldn’t think of anything other than how good it felt to remember his body could bring someone pleasure instead of pain. He’d come moments later with a strained cry of Lando’s name.

Ever since, Oscar had let Lando lead. Let Lando teach him how to be tender again.

As Lando pulled the plate coverings off Oscar’s left arm, unbuckled the straps holding Oscar’s breast plate, tugging it free, Oscar felt like an oyster being shucked from its shell, revealing something pink and fleshy and new.

Lando always struggled with the chain mail, slightly too short to pull it over Oscar’s head. Oscar leaned forward to make it easier.

“Thank you,” Lando murmured.

Lando draped the chain mail over a chair. It reminded Oscar of the shedded skin of a snake he’d seen in the woods once, fluttering over a branch. The echo of something dangerous.

Lando made quick work of the rest of Oscar’s clothes. Oscar tried not to notice the guilt on Lando’s face as he took in the fresh bruises littering Oscar’s skin. 

But Lando brought a finger up to trace over what Oscar was certain was a particularly nasty one on his rib cage from when he’d been knocked from his horse with the flat of a sword.

After Oscar could barely stand it, he caught Lando’s hand and tugged it up to his lips. “Enough,” Oscar murmured, pressing a kiss to Lando’s knuckles.

Lando opened his mouth as if to say something, but he said nothing in the end. Simply let Oscar unlace his jacket and breeches, push them to the floor as if they were worth nothing.

They stood there in the flickering candlelight, free from their airs, their titles. Holding each other’s gaze as if they were equals.

Oscar brought a tentative hand to Lando’s face, stroking over the soft skin of Lando’s cheek.

Lando’s eyes fluttered and he turned his head to the side, pressing a warm kiss to the center of Oscar’s palm. The same way he did before battles, pulling Oscar’s hand to his lips, kissing the rough skin of Oscar’s palm and whispering, “Remember.”

Oscar had never asked what he was meant to remember—Lando, himself, that touch could be gentle. All of it, Oscar thought.

Oscar knew, then, what he needed from Lando. Knew how Lando could help him remember.

“Can you—” Oscar trailed off. He wanted it more than anything but he struggled to ask for it. Couldn’t stop imagining how the other knights would react if they knew Oscar spread his legs for the crown prince. 

The knights already knew Oscar spent most nights in Lando’s chambers. But Oscar had been careful to keep up the illusion that Lando was the only one on his back. There was something powerful in bedding the crown prince, something almost enviable in fucking the man who sent them to war. But to let the crown prince fuck him? Oscar’s stomach twisted at the thought.

But he didn’t shy away as Lando slid his hand to cup Oscar’s arse. When Lando ghosted his fingers over Oscar’s hole, Oscar couldn’t hold back a whine.

“God,” Lando breathed. “This is what you want?” He pressed one of his thick fingers against Oscar, the barest hint of a stretch. 

Oscar shuddered at the feeling. “Please,” Oscar whispered.

Lando groaned, finger pressing more firmly, and muttered, “Christ, you’re—”

But Oscar never found out what he was because Lando was already tugging him toward the bed, pushing Oscar back against the pillows and settling between Oscar’s legs.

They didn’t do it this way often but Lando moved confidently, coating his fingers in oil and watching Oscar closely as he opened him up, pressing soft kisses to Oscar’s chest, his nipples, his stomach.

Oscar couldn’t help the desperate noises pulled out of him by Lando’s fingers, his cock pink and dripping against his stomach.

“Perfect,” Lando breathed, bright eyes dragging over Oscar’s shuddering form. “Fucking perfect for me, Osc.”

Oscar let out a wounded noise, clenching around Lando’s fingers. He was perfect, in a sense. Fighting Lando’s wars and rolling over for him, after. It made Oscar want to shove Lando off, pin him to the bedspread.

But Lando was looking at him with open adoration, his eyes bright, lips parted, fingers huge and perfect inside Oscar. And even in the dim light, Oscar could see the bags under Lando’s eyes. Oscar knew that it killed Lando every time he had to stand and watch Oscar ride out, knowing Oscar might never return. It was one thing to be the one leaving. It was another to be the one being left.

Oscar hooked a heel behind Lando’s thigh, pulling Lando closer, rocking back against Lando’s fingers, desperately trying to take him deeper.

“Please,” Oscar begged.

Lando leaned down to press a kiss to Oscar’s chest, the skin already flushed a bright pink. The movement pushed Lando’s fingers deeper and Oscar let out a frantic moan. He had to shoot a hand down to grab his cock and squeeze, desperately trying not to come.

“Please,” Oscar repeated, squirming underneath Lando. “Please, I just—” He reached a hand up to Lando’s curls, tugging him down into a kiss. 

Lando moaned into the kiss but pulled back after a few moments. “What do you need?” he whispered, voice ragged.

His cock pressed against Oscar’s thigh and Oscar felt like he was shaking out of his own skin at the thought of Lando pushing in, filling him up completely. Making Oscar forget about anything other than the press of Lando inside him. 

“Help me,” Oscar begged, grinding back against Lando’s fingers. “Help me remember myself.”

“Fuck, Oscar,” Lando groaned, bending to press a kiss to Oscar’s neck. “Always.”

“Thank you,” Oscar breathed, relaxing against the mattress, relief flooding through him. “Fuck, I—thank you.”

Lando slid his fingers free and lined himself up, the steady press of his cock overwhelming enough to have Oscar tossing his head to the side and tightening around Lando, letting out a needy moan.

Lando whined, clearly trying not to come, but he smoothed a hand over Oscar’s hair and whispered, “So good, sweetheart, there you go.”

They were the precise words Oscar said to Lando sometimes as he pushed inside, when he could tell Lando was fighting it, his body desperate for it but not willing to cede control. It was enough to have Oscar relaxing slightly, just enough to let Lando slide home.

Lando stayed there for a moment, letting Oscar adjust, letting Oscar feel it. Oscar couldn’t stop whimpering, soft, tiny noises, but he pulled Lando in for another kiss, letting Lando swallow his sounds.

In Lando’s bed, Oscar felt as though he’d never existed anywhere else. He forgot about everything other than the feel of Lando inside him, the warm heat of Lando’s body against his, and the wet slide of Lando’s lips against his. 

He remembered, finally, how to be soft.

[stove-top96]

Better In the Dark

Synopsis

Y Platonic Batfam x GN Meta Reader

Featuring: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne

0.8K

Just an Idea I had while writing Chapter 3 of water colour eyes. I’m definitely gonna write Chapter 1 soon (maybe this weekend). Let me know what y’all think. I’m in such a writing mood lately so stay tuned for other Ideas and more one-shots.

You really didn’t mean for it to happen, but your mistake never warranted such an extreme reaction. You were careless, relying too much on your powers rather than the proper technique when fighting. if it weren’t for Robin you probably would’ve died. Still, they've all had near death experiences. What makes you any different? It seems like overnight everything’s flipped 180, they’re all more extreme, more obsessed. Don’t they understand your civilian life doesn’t include them? Why are they so goddamn insistent?

For Bruce it was like reliving the same nightmare. Watching helpless as the goons put that power inhibition collar on. Unable to do anything when they struck you over the head. The same helpless despair pooling in his gut from when he watched his parents die, Jason die and now you. This cycle of watching the people he cares about die is one he thought he broke free of, clearly not. While he sits there by your hospital bed, the beep from the heart monitor is the only thing that keeps him going. (Y/N) (L/N) he swears to you that he will never let anyone ever hurt you again.

It was different for Dick, he knew you looked up to Nightwing, to him, Even so he wasn’t there that night. Your hero, the one you aspire to be like, wasn't even there to save you. He’s pathetic, what kind of symbol is he when he can’t even protect the people close to him? He wasn’t even doing anything important that night, he was watching Netflix for god's sake, on a supposed “rest day” while you were giving it your all. He doesn’t deserve to be your hero, you’re too good to him. He knows you’ll say “it wasn’t anyone’s anyone’s fault but my own” deep down he knows the truth. He’ll give up anything to make it up to you, to be someone who deserves to be looked up towards.

Jason was scared. He knows what it’s like to put your trust in others only for them to not be there. Bruce did it to him, but now he’s done it to you. He’s become exactly what he despised. He doesn’t let just anyone grow close to him, but your kindness and authenticity was different, you weren’t fake to him and your kindness started to rub off on him. You were like his sibling, you brought light into his life, and he was supposed to protect that, protect you. He doesn’t know what will happen once you wake up. Knowing you, you won't blame anyone. But will you truly forgive them for not being there? Will you blame him?

Tim was the closest to you. Both of you being similar in age, and sharing a sense of humour it was hard not to get along with you. You were able to match his intellect, and even saved him a few times when Tim Drake was kidnapped and held for ransom (not that you knew it was him). Even more than that, you understood him more than anyone else did. You both started being vigilantes at around the same time, but unlike you Tim only became Robin because no one else would, and you never blamed him for that you also understood Batman needs Robin. When saw what happened he didn’t know what to do. He Joked with you earlier how Gothams became so tame, he should have seen this coming, it was too quiet. He has a plan of action for everything, yet when it mattered he froze. Sure it was only for a few seconds, but that’s life or death. He’s Lucky, you lived. If you didn’t, it would be his fault. How is he supposed to live with himself after such a drastic mistake?

Damian’s perspective changed. You were never on the same level as him, but he thought he could hold your own. It’s clear that belief was a mistake, one that almost cost you your life. you’re weak, someone who just happened to be meta. you’re not like him or the others. You’re meant to be protected, to stay at home while he fights. It was his blind trust in your abilities that you ended up in that bed. He’s grown careless, you made him that way. Your laugh had an uncanny ability to make him feel at ease, he’s never felt so seen by a person before. It was easy to lower his guard around you, a trait of yours he both cherished and envied. He won’t make that mistake again, he knows what he needs to do to ensure you stay protected.

Silence fills the Batcave, the family can do nothing but stare down at you. Unable to do anything but relive that night, they promise nothing like that will ever happen again. They will make sure of it.

[haechoxo]

[9:58 pm]

haechan was a mess, the last encounter with you haunting his mind. no one had seen him in weeks, his self isolation driven by the humiliation and regret.

how’d he let it get this bad?

he’d ruined the one good thing he had going for him, the one thing that could've ever gone right in his life, gone.

he caused you so much pain, so much anguish, you were sick of him, quite literally. all for what? because he couldn’t admit he wanted to be yours?

it was his turn to make himself sick. walking down to the 7-Eleven for the fourth time this week to stock up on booze, he glanced out the storefront window as he waited for his transaction to complete, and spotted you, hand in hand with choi yeonjun, as you exited the bistro across the street.

it felt like a punch to the gut, a harsh reminder of what he lost. you deserved happiness, he knew that. but the thought of you finding it with someone else, while he suffered in his own misery, was almost too much to bear, he deserved this.

all haechan could do was sigh, grabbing his items and heading back to his apartment, a sort of walk of shame, as he dialed up minjeong.

“...hello? haechan? it’s almost 10 pm.” her deadpanned tone rang through the receiver.

“y-yeah… sorry,” he croaked. she was the first person to hear from him in a while, not that she of all people was worried. “just wondering if you were maybe free tomorrow, just to hang out… i guess.”

minjeong only sighed. “listen, haechan, i don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“o-oh, yeah, i guess… i guess you're right.”

“it’s not you! well– no, yeah, it is you,” ouch, “but we both know it just wouldn’t have worked out, right? you’re too focused on y/n, and we were both clearly just using each other as a distraction.” he could only listen as she went on, too afraid to say anything, to face the truth.

“the same reason you and i would never work out is the same reason mark and y/n won’t work out. we don’t have feelings for each other, haechan. it was never there.” he sucked in a breath.

“you gotta figure yourself out. we both know you can do better.” the line went dead.

haechan slumped against his front door, the weight of minjeong's words crashing down on him. the silence of his empty apartment echoed his loneliness, the low light from the streetlamp outside mocking him as he sat there. every sip of alcohol burned down his throat, but it didn’t numb the ache in his chest. the empty bottles around him were a testament to his attempts to drown out the guilt, but no amount could wash away the regret. he needed to change, to make things right, but where could he even start? he replayed your last conversation in his mind, your tear-streaked face, the hurt in your eyes. how had he been so blind?

unlocking his phone to scroll through his unopened messages, stumbling on his chats, or lack thereof, with you. they’d been dry, barren of any feelings for weeks. and it was his doing.

the unopened voicemails, mostly from jaemin about missing cafe dates and more of johnny’s parties, but there was a new one he hadn’t noticed before.

from mark.

hesitantly he pressed play, mentally bracing for the new lecture he was about to endure.

”hey man, uh— i’m not calling to apologize or anything, just so you know, i don’t feel bad for the things i said, neither does jun. i’m still really mad at you, we both are, but you're still our friend just as much as y/n is, even she’s a little worried, renjun told her not to be and i probably shouldn't have told you but whatever. the guys have been asking about you and no one really has an answer. uhm,” mark clears his throat, “jeno said he saw you outside 7-Eleven a couple nights this week already, smoking a new pack of cigarettes each time…” he sighs, pausing for a moment. haechan can feel the lump forming in his throat from the embarrassment.

“dude just because we ‘sided’ with y/n, doesn’t mean we don’t care about you and your well being anymore. obviously you feel stupid finally, and you clearly know you were wrong, but you’re going about things the wrong way, again. you can’t keep living like this, hurting the people you care about, hurting yourself, in the process.” he pauses for a bit, and haechan thinks maybe the message had ended like that, “whatever, uh, i don’t know what else i’m supposed to say bro, just let us know you’re okay, i guess, bye.” the beep signaling the end of the voicemail rings loudly against his ear, sighing shakily as he shut his phone off.

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a/n ; this one took waaaay longer than anticipated,, i just wasnt sure how well id be able to convey his feelings as well as mark’s lovely words since I HATE HIS STUPID ASS RN 💔

[ancientwastedlores]

Don't Be Kind To It (Homelander x Reader)

The overwhelming amount of love Homelander Only Breaks His Favorite Toys got really hit me in the feels. Some of you asked for a part II, and much like Homelander, I aim to please (and love the praise).

[tags: @helreyy @discowizard88 @slasherho]

This one is lightly inspired by Hozier's "It Will Come Back," and we get a glimpse into Homelander's perspective as well.

Hope you enjoy it! <3

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Don't Be Kind To It

Don't let it in with no intention to keep it Jesus Christ, don't be kind to it

You're a smart cookie. And you know Homelander better than he knows himself. You expect him to stalk you, watch you from rooftops, send you gifts that have an agenda, and force Vought's Crime Analytics department to keep an eye on you.

So, you wait. You listen for the telltale whoosh of air, the crackle of energy that signals his arrival. Every gust of wind sends your heart hammering; every creak of the floorboards makes your blood run cold. You scan the skyline for a flash of red and blue, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

At first, you think he’s just toying with you, letting you stew in paranoia. You brace for him to materialize at the most inconvenient moment, smug and victorious. Yet days turn into weeks, and his absence becomes undeniable. You tell yourself he’s good at what he does—too good—but the truth begins to sink in: it’s not just you. Nobody has seen him.

No staged rescues. No public appearances. Not even a leaked video of him losing his temper. Ashley let slip that his tracking chip went dead 3 days ago. Vought is scrambling to spin the story - a secret overseas mission? A long-deserved vacation?

But the inner circle is panicking. The people who know him best—the ones who know what he’s capable of—are terrified.

Where the fuck is Homelander?

But... another thought creeps in, invasive and unwelcome, like a splinter under your skin.

Isn't he going to fight for me?

The selfishness of it makes you recoil, but it’s there, undeniable and raw. After everything, after all the suffocating control and emotional whiplash, you almost wanted him to stay obsessed with you. To prove that you still mattered to him. To prove that you had power over the most powerful man alive.

The realization is a gut punch. Maybe you’re not as different from him as you thought. Maybe his possessiveness, his need for control, rubbed off on you more than you care to admit. Maybe you’ve become just as twisted as him, longing for attention—even the toxic kind—because it’s better than silence.

And now, silence is all there is.

It wraps around you like a noose, tightening with every passing day. His absence presses on your chest, cutting off your circulation, making it hard to breathe. You tell yourself it’s relief—that this is what you wanted—but the emptiness feels like punishment. You try to convince yourself he’s sulking, biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to make you regret leaving him.

But the longer it stretches on, the more it begins to feel permanent.

You could care less what this means for Vought. All the company seems to care about is who will lead the Seven now. Should they try to replace Homelander or lean into the “team-first” narrative Ashley has been pushing? PR scrambles to keep the media from asking too many questions, trotting out The Deep and Black Noir to cover for him.

But the public isn’t buying it.

Those who love him are afraid he is hurt. Those who hate him post conspiracy theories about Homelander going rogue - which feels way more accurate.

Either way, if Homelander doesn’t want to be found, no one can find him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Your days stretch out unfathomably long. You expected to feel free, to savor the clean air and the wide-open spaces of a world without him. Instead, his absence is louder than his presence ever was.

When he was there, he consumed everything: every thought, every moment, every inch of your life. You hated it, resented it, but at least you understood it. His attention, no matter how suffocating, meant you mattered.

But now there’s nothing.

The silence echoes like a scream, reverberating through every corner of your mind. Every sleepless night, every anxious thought loops back to him. Where is he? What is he doing? Is he coming back?

You start to wonder if this is how he wanted it—to leave you drowning in uncertainty, gasping for closure you’ll never get. Maybe this is his ultimate revenge.

Or maybe…

Maybe he’s broken in ways even you can’t fix.

You almost wish for his cruelty, for the familiar push-and-pull of his twisted affection. Because this? This void where he once loomed so large?

It feels like dying.

No. You have to seek him out. You can't quite tell if it's for his sake or yours... you can figure that out later.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Monster's Lament

The room is dark, lit only by the faint glow of the moon filtering through cracked blinds. Dust floats in the air, settling over the relics of a forgotten time—old Vought propaganda posters peeling from the walls, a long-dead television covered in grime. It’s quiet here, too quiet, save for the clock that's miraculously still ticking.

Homelander sits slumped in a battered chair, his suit grimy, his cape discarded on the floor in a crumpled heap. His head is in his hands, his golden locks disheveled, the picture of a god brought low.

“You warned her,” a voice says, syrupy sweet.

Homelander doesn’t look up, doesn’t need to—he knows where it’s coming from.

The mirror.

He lifts his gaze reluctantly, and there it is: his own reflection staring back at him, but not quite right. The eyes burn brighter, the teeth are sharper, the smile is crueler. It leans forward as if trying to crawl out of the glass.

"You warned her," it sings again. "But did she listeeeen." "Not now, okay?" Homelander pleads.

The face in the mirror laughs. "Jesus fucking Christ, this is so pathetic. What are you waiting for, for her to come find you? For her to need you?" "She does need me." “Oh, sure. Because you gave her everything. The flying, the fancy dinners, the cape-flipping bullshit. But what did she give you?” It leans closer, its grin widening. “Pity. That’s what. You wanted love, and all you ever got was pity.”

“That’s not true,” Homelander growls, but his voice wavers.

“Isn’t it?” The reflection tilts its head, almost playfully. “She stayed because she felt sorry for you. The broken little boy in the big man’s body. She didn’t love you, not really. She loved the idea of fixing you. And when she couldn’t—”

“Shut up!” Homelander’s voice cracks as he lurches to his feet, his hands trembling.

The reflection’s grin doesn’t falter. If anything, it grows wider. “What’s the matter, Johnny? Don’t like the truth?”

He stands frozen, a deer in headlights. He never learned to deal with complex emotions, and even after all this time, it wraps around him like a boa constrictor, cutting off his air supply and rooting him to the ground.

And the reflection starts to sing. “Don’t feed me, honey. Don’t be kind to me.”

The lyrics echo around Homelander, twisting like a blade.

"Don't give it a hand, offer it a soul Honey, make this easy Leave it to the land, this is what it knows."

"STOP IT" Homelander cries.

"Don't let me in with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back"

"You're supposed to be on MY side." Homelander says. "I am. This is what that looks like," It replies.

Homelander's stares ahead, his fists clenched, his jaw tights, his eyes ready to burn holes into the mirror. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating.

Homelander closes his eyes, but her face is there, burned into his eyelids. The way she looked at him—like he was more than the sum of his power, more than the monster everyone else saw. He hates her for it. He loves her for it.

“Why did you leave?” he whispers to himself.

The reflection’s smile vanishes. For a moment, it almost looks… pitying.

“Because you allowed it,” it says simply.

The words hit like a punch to the gut.

"She fed you ONCE. And you kept going to her like a stray fucking dog. You took her mercy and her love and you became weak. Nobody wants weakness, Johnny." It leans forward, smiling, canines gleaming, "Whatcha gonna do about it?"

Homelander looks at the ground. Shame and desperation wash over him, and he blinks tears back.

"You're going to claim her. And you'll make sure she never, ever leaves again. Right?"

Homelander doesn't look up from the floor.

It gets irritated. "Right?"

Silence.

It rolls its eyes. "Do you want ME to do it?"

Homelander looks up, hope obvious in his bright blue eyes.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t intend to start looking for him. It just… happens.

It begins with small, idle habits—clicking on articles about Vought’s latest scandals, scrolling through old news coverage, and watching grainy footage of staged rescues from years past. Your eyes search for him automatically, for that familiar streak of red and blue cutting through the chaos.

Then it escalates.

You start wandering the city at night, tracing the paths he once flew you along. You visit the rooftops where he used to land with a flourish, his cape billowing dramatically in the wind. You linger outside the exclusive restaurants where he once paraded you like a trophy, his smile razor-sharp as he soaked in the envy of the other diners.

But it’s not just the glamorous places.

You walk down seedy alleys and explore dark corners—the forgotten places he claimed as private retreats. The places where he could let his guard down, where the mask of America’s golden boy slipped.

It feels grotesque, this act of seeking him out. Like you’re willingly feeding the monster you swore you’d escape. You hate yourself for it, for the way your heart leaps at the thought of seeing him again, even if it’s just to tell him to his face that you’re done.

But you can’t stop.

You start putting yourself in danger—not consciously, but recklessly enough that it’s obvious even to you. Walking alone through neighborhoods that turn predatory after dark. Taking late-night trains without any plan or destination. Part of you hopes he’ll swoop in, cape flaring, to save you in one of his dramatic displays of power.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, one night, it’s Black Noir who finds you.

The alley is suffocatingly narrow, the air heavy with the mingling stench of rotting garbage and damp asphalt. The dim, flickering streetlight overhead barely illuminates the passage as two men circle you like predators. Their laughter is low and ugly, their shadows long and distorted against the brick walls.

You freeze, your breath caught somewhere between a scream and a sob, as one of them lunges toward you. You pray even now that he'll swoop in from somewhere.

And then he’s there.

Black Noir steps from the shadows like death itself. His arrival is so silent, so abrupt, that the men don’t even notice him until it’s too late. A gloved hand clamps down on one man’s shoulder, spinning him around with an almost casual effort. Noir doesn’t waste time. The blow is swift, brutal—a single strike to the man’s temple that sends him crumpling to the ground.

The second man barely has time to react, stumbling backward with a terrified curse. Noir closes the distance in an instant, his movements fluid and precise. A sharp crack echoes through the alley as the man’s arm is wrenched at an unnatural angle. He screams, but Noir silences him with a swift knee to the ribs. He falls, gasping and broken, as Noir turns to you.

The black Kevlar of his suit gleams faintly in the dim light, the contours of his armor making him seem more shadow than man. His helmet hides his face entirely, the opaque visor reflecting your terrified expression back at you. He stands perfectly still, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, his presence both menacing and oddly comforting.

You crumble to the ground, your legs giving out beneath you as adrenaline and fear collide in your veins. Relief washes over you, but it’s tainted by something darker—frustration, disappointment, an aching sense of abandonment.

Noir kneels on the ground to make sure you're okay.

“Why—why isn’t he here?” you sob, your voice breaking. The words spill out of you, raw and unfiltered, as you pound your fists weakly against Noir’s chest.

He doesn’t move.

“Why won’t he come for me?” you cry, your hands trembling against the hard, unyielding surface of his armor. “He’s supposed to be here. He’s always here.”

Noir doesn’t answer. Of course, he doesn’t. He simply stands there, a silent sentinel as your emotions spill over in a torrent of tears and ragged gasps. His helmet tilts ever so slightly, as if he’s observing you, but he offers no comfort, no words of reassurance.

You clutch at him like a drowning person reaching for a lifeline, your fingers curling around the slick fabric of his suit. The tears come harder now, soaking into the Kevlar as you press your face against him.

“I hate him,” you whisper through clenched teeth, though the bitterness in your voice is softened by the despair in your heart. “I hate him for leaving.”

Noir stands up, lifting you with him, and lets you go once he's sure you're standing straight. His silence is maddening. Why isn't he angry that you're being ungrateful? Why isn't he at least talking about Homelander disappearing? ANYTHING?

You finally step back, your hands trembling as you wipe at your tear-streaked face. Your gaze meets Noir’s visor, and for a moment, you imagine you see something there—pity, perhaps, or understanding. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the blank, inscrutable void of his masked expression.

“Thank you,” you whisper hoarsely, though the words feel hollow. What you really want to say is, Why wasn’t it him?

Noir doesn’t react. He simply steps back, his movements as quiet and calculated as ever, before melting into the shadows.

You’re alone again, the weight of Homelander's absence pressing down on you like a physical force.

But... a thought creeps in. If Black Noir came, then Homelander must know, too. They all have access to the same intel. He knows where you are and what you’re doing, and still—still—he hasn’t come for you.

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GUYS, I think this is going to be a three-parter. Bear with me. The next chapter will be the last. Let me know what you guys think and if you want to be tagged to the third one!

Thank you for all the love 😭😭

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BRUCE WAYNE | BATMAN (generalized fanon | wfa)

—

Bruce Wayne w/ a Rastafarian S/O (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

Headcanons

SFW, slice of life, BATMOM, batfamily appearances, fluff, established relationship(s) - caribbean!reader

Pic source — Batman: Wayne Family Adventures webtoon

Bruce initially being the only person allowed to see your locs.

Each kid takes it as a rite of passage when they’re allowed to see your hair as well. You do your best to stress to them not to make it seem like an obligation or some huge sign of your love or anything, but they tend to give it more weight than you want them to regardless.

It’s just that when you’re in your home, and around your people, you can trust your locs to be free.

The first time when the house was quiet (no risk of guests) Bruce suddenly found one night that he was allowed to see your locs after you finally convinced him to get out of the Batsuit and come sleep upstairs in a bed instead of on a cot in the cave.

You don’t make a big deal of it, and he doesn’t comment right then, but he is very pleased.

You and Damian bond over ‘vegan’ dishes and desserts.

There’s plenty of times when you’re making a Caribbean dish ‘vegan’ (ie: compatible with your Ital diet to a natural medicinal-esq degree) that he acts as your taste tester or is the accomplice to any failures you make in the kitchen.

Something about ‘Rasta Pasta’ does vex you, though. There’s just something so antithetical about something that explicitly has ‘Rasta’ in the name having meat in it most of the time that boggles your mind even though it isn’t a big deal.

You share your feelings about this with Bruce and he nods sagely while Duke busts a gut behind him with his hands slapped over his mouth. Duke does think you have a point but the way you’re talking about it and just how seriously Bruce is taking your otherwise trivial complaint is killing him.

Jason picks out pretty wraps for you to wrap your head with from wherever he’s traveled. A lot of them you sew into skirts you buy to make them longer but still give them a personal touch.

Everyone eats your food; no one misses the meat (and all the other things you don’t cook with) and Alfred supremely enjoys the day off from the kitchen because if you're asked to make dinner you’re making breakfast, lunch, snacks, and dessert too.

Dick will come all the way from Bludhaven for your fungi and (meatless) veggie stew, please do not play. You make extra just for him to take home every time.

Bruce loves at night when you’re going to bed and you drop your hair. Loves getting to see your locs knock into your back and fall over your shoulders. Your hair is your crown and Bruce treats it with every bit of reverence it deserves.

Whenever he can he likes to twine his fingers through your locs when you kiss.

On slow days when the Bat isn’t needed and Bruce Wayne doesn’t have to make an appearance you spend the day around each other. You alternate from his office to your bedroom while he works and you oil and retwist your hair on the bed or on the couch in his study.

The two of you have your dumbest conversations on days like these which is how Duke and Damian end up walking in on you both debating the logistics of whether capri pants were an acceptable fashion choice.

Both Duke and Damian sided with you saying they were not, but then Tim walked in on the conversation and - even after explaining your reasoning to him - sided with Bruce saying they were a perfect choice for when you couldn’t decide between shorts or pants.

When Steph passes by the open door she shakes her head at Tim, clicking her tongue like you usually do, and asks you if she can borrow one of your blouses even though you can see it already under her arm.

You make it mandatory that you all go out as a family to connect with nature, not just be around it, and to get some actual sun.

Hikes are absolutely your jam, and it’s not like Bruce likes anything better than to show off for you. Rock climbing in nature, taking trips to swim in the Caribbean, cave explorations, plant scavenger hunts, star gazing, and more are all on the table too when free time comes into play.

You and Bruce also go on regularly scheduled walks (that is when he’s not too torn up to walk) where you take the time to catch up and re-familiarize and ground yourselves through growing your connection even more.

You also have the room — and Bruce is more than happy to give you it — to have a giant garden where you grow a lot of your own food, and you maintain it as a family.

You wake up to pray every morning like clockwork, and Bruce doesn’t join in but he does wake up for a short stint of time to watch you before passing back out.

If there was one thing your husband wasn’t, it was a morning person (within reason, most of the time).

If he is up and moving (and home) when you’re going out he likes to wrap your locs up for you. The first time he offered you raised a brow at him, but he eased the fabric from your hands and turned you around to show you what he meant anyway. When he wraps the fabric around your bundled locs exactly like how you do without any instruction you’re shocked, but the smile you give him afterwards is dazzled enough that Bruce winks at you.

When he’s really calm, usually before he’s about to slip into sleep after a long time running around and plotting as Batman, he’ll go soft and as floaty as he ever does. While one of his hands will be wrapped around you, the other often gravitates towards the wooden ankh you wear (if you still have it on). He winds it between his fingers, playing with the beads that adorn the necklace like he’s in a trance as he presses sleepy kisses to your brown skin.

You pray for him most often when he’s like this, your touch on him soft and your hand a gentle balm in his hair in turn; his life was always on the line after all, and so were your children’s. It couldn’t hurt, that was for sure.

You make the Manor a little louder relatively often; keeping the energy in your adopted home alive (when you don’t have a full house, especially) with the music you play. It’s healing. Makes everyone in the house get a little more energy in their step at the reggae and Caribbean hymns in the background.

Plus, watching Dami’s head bounce to the music when he’s not paying attention is too cute.

Whenever you’re blessed enough to hear (what’s typically) Jason, Steph, or Duke singing familiar lyrics under their breaths or humming well worn and loved tunes, too, you can’t help how your heart swells.

Dick will full on just sing along with you if he’s around, in all his off key glory, and you love that just the same.

You’re in your garden a lot and out of all your kids Cassandra enjoys being out there with you the most. You two often gather from and maintain the garden together in silence. You suspect she likes how visibly non-demanding it is; it gives her brain a break.

Alfred has his roses and you have your produce/aromatics and you share irrigation tips.

You share your beliefs with your crew whenever they ask but are perfectly content to let them choose their own paths in life.

Cass listens to your prayers the most, you don’t think she believes in the Most High (or any ‘higher power’ that people praise for that matter) but you love that she appreciates the messages regardless.

The elites and the press act absolutely ridiculous about you and your natural appearance, but you just don’t pay them no mind and go about your business unbothered. That hatred was their prerogative, not yours; you would not bow to their system, to the machinations of Babylon.

You’re single-handedly making Bruce Wayne (Gotham’s ‘Crown Prince’) smell inarguably like incense; just from him being so obsessed with you and always wanting to be around you as much as possible he’ll smell like any variety of sages to cedars (& etc.).

If there’s anyone that’s going to hasten Wayne Enterprises shifting to more eco friendly practices and renewable energy it’s going to be you. It’s not like you had to do much though, Bruce is pretty advancement friendly on his own.

You start a good amount of community gardens throughout Gotham through W.E. — villians mostly leave them alone outside of Ivy occasionally making the plants mutated enough to ‘come to life’.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!!

I’d like to make it known that most of the information I put here was gained through observation (& some lived experience), but also that while the person I garnered this information from is a Rasta, that they aren’t a particularly ‘traditional’ one, so take that as you will. Also, not every Rasta practices the same way so don’t hold me as a source or anything either.

I’m also a non-Jamaican Caribbean, just fyi.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

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