#I had this idea in my head stuck for a while now
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yieldtotemptation · 18 hours ago
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PAROXYSM ft. Mina
mina x male reader smut
part two of strange currencies
16k words
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Go ahead, try and pretend like you’re not obsessed.
Like you’re not bothered that it’s been weeks since you had Mina—felt the heat of her body, the silk of her skin, the sweetness of her breath on your neck.
Since you've seen that ass. Had it in your hands, spread her cheeks with your fingers, stretched her wide with your cock and left Mina in tears, crying out—
"God, I can never go back from this."
And it’s not like you haven’t been searching for opportunities; a party you’d both be invited to, another gala, some event with enough plausible deniability for when you inevitably, ‘accidentally’ bump into her again.
But for some reason, nothing seems to align.
You’ll get word that she’s in Korea, basking in a rare stretch of free time, while you’re in Hong Kong, signing deals and making promises of dubious sincerity.
You’ll be rushing to return, already planning out how you’ll steal another taste of her, another touch; only to find out she’s been whisked away again—to Japan, or Brazil, or any one of the countless countries desperate to host her.
Glimpses is all you ever truly get—paparazzi shots, magazine covers, the odd video that passes through the digital ether.
So, yeah.
You let it rest, go through the motions, try to recreate it in the aggregate. There are plenty of pretty faces, eager bodies in your orbit.
But they're all just that: bodies.
Empty shells of what you had. They don’t laugh like her, they don’t keep you on your toes like she can, they don’t look at you with the same hunger.
(They don’t say your name like Mina did.)
“So,” is the first word you hear from Mina. Too much time has passed, and you’ve officially given up on any pretences of nonchalance. Decided to get straight to the point with the right people and just get her number. “I guess I’m not the only one who can’t stop thinking about that night.”
“Uncharted territory and all,” you’re repeating, and there’s a beat of silence on the other line.
A deep breath, and you swear you can hear her smile. “Definitely unique.”
It’s well past midnight and you’re tired and you’re feeling unusually vulnerable, so you're admitting things you'd usually keep under lock and key. “It’s been—you’ve been stuck in my head, Mina.”
“I know the feeling,” she sighs. Just the timbre of her voice and there’s shivers down your spine. “The memory alone is still—”
You finish for her, “Vivid.”
“I was going to say really fucking hot, but yes,” she laughs. “It’s helped me through some lonely nights. Remembering how you felt inside me, everything we did together it’s—God, you have no idea.”
“I’d argue I have the entire idea. For one—the stairs,” you’re supplying, grinning to yourself, leaning back in your chair, remembering the way she clung to you. How tight she was around you, how fucking new she felt as you filled her. “You were so fucking gorgeous. Never felt anything like it.”
“And the shower,” she counters, “you had me pinned against the tiles. Couldn’t move without you fucking me deeper. Just stuck with nowhere to go but further down your cock. No one’s ever done that to me.”
“Don’t forget the kitchen,” you add, “We got pretty creative with the utensils.”
Mina giggles. You didn't know she was capable of sounding so girlish. “I’ll never look at a spatula the same.”
It’s getting dangerous, each memory rekindling the flame of a night that you’d tried to convince yourself couldn’t have been as epic as you remembered. Couldn’t have mattered so much.
And yet here you are now, letting Mina stir up thoughts of her cunt gushing down her thighs, her nipples stiffening between your teeth, her ass choking your cock, the look on her face when she came all over you—and you know she’s wading through the very same set of flashbacks.
“Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that garden. Your hands are all over me, your mouth everywhere—”
“Your cunt on my tongue—”
“Your fingers in my ass—”
“Your fucking moans, Mina—”
“Wait, I need to—”
Mina stops you, and you find yourself releasing a breath you didn't even know you were holding. You think you can hear her; hear the shutting of a door, a lock turning, frantic pacing, the squeak of a bed.
Your eyes close and you're picturing it now—Mina, laid back on pure white sheets, sprawled out like a Goddess. It's all there, crystal clear. Fingers dancing over her collarbones, tracing the delicate line of her neck down to the swell of her breasts.
Teasing herself, running her thumbs over her areola, the skin there a shade darker, a touch more sensitive. Pinching and pulling, peaks hardening into tight buds, missing the roughness of your tongue.
And then going lower, down over her ridged abs and between her toned thighs. Spreading her legs out in an invitation, toes curling into the mattress. Finding herself slick with need, so, so soaked. Dipping down to trace over her folds before sliding right into the wet heat.
Mina gasps. It's not your imagination. She moans into the phone.
You can almost taste her again.
She finds her voice. "Please, keep talking."
The first photo comes through the very next day.
You can intuit from the architecture in the background—the steep roofs, the brick exteriors, the gothic towers—she’s somewhere in Paris.
And there’s Mina, flat on her stomach, sheets tangled around her like the aftermath of a hurricane that’s swept through. Smiling at you straight down the barrel of the camera, cutting through the digital space between you. It’s sly and knowing and a little bit wicked, because she knows that it’s not the view of the city behind her that you’re looking at, nor is it even her face, usually so stunningly unavoidable and instantly captivating.
It's her ass.
Plump and round, poking over her shoulder, filling a whole corner of the frame. And you're spotting the indentations where your fingers have sunk in, the stretch of alabaster that your grip turned a shade of pink. A map of memories etched across the curve of her cheeks.
It’s a thousand words in a single photo, a message loud and clear, carefully composed to make you ache. So, you do. You ache.
You save the picture—not because you think you’re going to forget, but because you need to have a piece of her with you at all times.
Something to pull out when the days are too long, too dull. Something to look at when your memories of her aren’t enough anymore.
The photo, you notice, comes with a caption: ‘The only thing missing here is you.’
“Stability,” Mina’s telling you nights later, after you’ve spent close to an hour describing to her all the ways you’d like to have her again, like to break her down until she’s just a trembling mess of limbs and cum.
It’s a habit the two of you have picked up; these clandestine calls that come in the dead of night, during those rare occasions you’re in a reasonable enough time zone to talk. You’re actually in the same country this time. The States, but on different coasts, so, close enough.
She’s sending these breathy whispers down the phone; still coming down from her high, from the way her thighs clenched around her own hand, from the way she painted your name onto her skin with her own juices.
Still coming down from you, from the meticulously detailed step-by-step explanations of exactly what you’d do to her if you weren’t thousands of kilometres apart.
“Stability,” you repeat the answer she’s given to the question that’s been burning in your mind for weeks now. It’s certainly a faux pas to ask right after she’s made you cum across your own chest; but it’s late, and tonight’s suite is far too big and much too quiet—the kind of quiet that lets you think too much.
And so you had to ask her. Why was she still with him?
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Mina confirms. “I like stability, I like routine, I like knowing what to expect. Means I can never be disappointed.”
“Never be surprised, either,” you point out. She laughs, the sound warm and rich through the speaker.
“That’s never really been a problem.” She pauses. “Until you.”
There’s an alarm bell sounding somewhere, triggered by the way that last syllable curls around the corners of her lips, bounces across fifty different states to land in your ear.
You.
It rattles around your brain, punches you right in the gut. You try to play it off with a chuckle. But you both know what this really is. The desperation, the need. What you do to each other. How much of a fucking mess you’d make together if you had half the chance.
You make an attempt at being casual: “Apologies, then.”
“You kinda fuck everything up for me, you know?” She admits. “I was fine with it all. Leaving all of this as just a fantasy. Living with the boredom.”
“Everything’s boring.”
“Except this.”
You should really be above all this. The pining, the yearning. Having a crush.
It’s unbecoming.
Leave her alone. Leave her to the dream life she’s built up for herself. The career, the boyfriend, the whole shiny package that everyone’s decided she should want. It’d be the rational thing to do.
And yet— “So, what are we going to do about it?”
“I suppose,” Mina says, and once again, you're swearing you can hear her smile through the phone, because this is far from the end of things, “We’ll just have to find some way to scratch this itch.”
(It’s an outrageous abuse of power.
But so what? You’re an asshole billionaire, that’s what everyone expects of you anyway.
Besides, compared to your peers, it falls far short of bankrupting entire economies or causing irreparable damage to the Earth’s oceans and atmosphere.
So why not go full tilt and really indulge?
That’s basically the gist of your justification for forcing fate’s hand and manifesting your own ‘accidental’ meeting with Mina.
Still. It’s only a meeting.)
“Quite a situation you’ve engineered here,” is Mina’s first quip, as she steps right out of your daydreams and into your office.
Oh, you’ve been thinking of her.
Spent time replaying that night in your mind, revisiting the sight of her bouncing on that staircase, the feel of her soft skin slapping against yours, the sound of her sighs in your ears.
Obsessed over the messages, the photos, the videos she’s sent—how she moves, that coy smile on her face when she knows she’s got your full attention in her grip. All these mesmerising moments captured in high-definition.
And it’s coming back to you now—the waterfall of hair cascading down her shoulders, the red of her lips, the beauty spot on her nose, above her cupid’s bow—a constellation across her face.
(She makes your office feel small.)
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, aiming for flippant, but missing the mark by a wide margin.
“Mhm,” is all you’re going to get, because you both know better.
She makes herself at home here, taking the long way to your desk. Hips swaying as she runs her fingers over the décor, the lights and the statues, the books and the furniture. Again, fitting right in with the expensive, the luxurious, the exclusive.
You’re not hiding that you’re staring, and she’s not hiding that she knows either.
Mina walks right past you, turns away so you can see the full sweep of her back, the high-waisted skirt that hugs her curves before flaring out at the waist. Eventually, she stops at the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the city, the urban sprawl below a far cry from the palatial gardens that backdropped your first encounter.
The sun’s setting overhead. It casts a warm glow over her. Outlines her figure in gold.
You break the silence, "Heard the photoshoot went well."
“Well, you get what you pay for,” is Mina’s second quip of the afternoon. She turns back to face you, leaning against the window frame, a perfect silhouette.
You can almost hear the glass tremble.
Mina asks, offhandedly, “You’ll have to enlighten me—is it standard practice for visitor passes to have access to every floor in the tower?”
“Security must be lacking.”
“Right,” Mina says. “And is it normal in your line of work, for the CEO to handpick the brand ambassadors?”
You shrug. “I like to get my hands dirty.”
“If that’s what they’re calling it,” she responds, smiling now. Pushing herself off the glass and taking a dangerous step forward.
“We were looking to appeal to our Japanese market,” you say, repeating the same lines you fed to your team, to her management, to anyone who bothered to raise an eyebrow. It’s a good lie. “Needed someone refined, someone that depicted class. Aspirational.”
Mina takes another step forward. Heels that make her legs look endless hitting the polished flooring with a click. "So that's how you see me, then."
"Amongst other, less appropriate things," you admit, already completely, hopelessly captivated.
"Let me guess: Stunning?"
"That's one."
“Fuckable.”
“Absolutely.”
“Submissive?”
“Are you asking, or telling me?”
Mina’s eyes dazzle as she closes the distance, rounding your desk and stopping just short of your chair. She waits for you to swivel and face her.
And then she leans forward, so close. Nose brushing yours, breath warm and sweet and familiar. Her hands land on your thighs, pushing your legs apart.
She drops to her knees.
“Telling.”
You can’t help yourself, you press your thumb to her lips, stamping it crimson.
It’s a wicked thing, how Mina’s bottom lip dips, how her tongue snakes out to lick the pad of your thumb clean. You push in deeper, watching as she takes you into her mouth, seals her lips around you and sucks.
How she’s looking at you now—building up this image of Mina; kneeling, the skirt riding up, her panties soaked with anticipation. Dressed like this is just another business meeting—masked in a high neckline and a smile so perfect against your skin.
That's today's game. Dress up.
Professionalism went out the window the moment she walked in—it barely crosses your mind to wonder whether or not she locked the door. You don’t even care.
Mina stops her little show, thumb pops out of her mouth with a wet sound, leaving a smear of red behind. There’s something about Mina, something that can’t be intuited unless she’s right in front of you, inhaling your exhales, smiling up at you like you're the only person in the entire world that matters.
It's like magic—makes everything and everyone else feel like a figment of your imagination.
“You forgot to mention a few other things,” Mina breathes on you, low and warm, priming you for a punchline that you know will send you reeling.
“Like what?”
“Oh, you know,” and she starts unbuttoning her blouse, reaching for the top button then— “How utterly,”
Then the next button.
“Desperately,”
More still.
“Needy,”
All of them.
“I am for your wonderful, perfect cock.”
The blouse opens up, falls away, drifts off her shoulders until it’s blood-red lace and vanilla-white skin.
Fuck.
(Mina’s not from this world, no fucking way. Definitely not human; jury’s out on if she’s some kind of Goddess. Probably something in between, come down from some place where the air is thinner and the lights are brighter.)
Your mouth is dry. “I could never forget.”
Mina’s eyes crinkle at the corners. Lips spread wide. She’s kissing your cock through your pants.
It’s electric. A long, teasing press of her lips that winds you so tight that just the slightest touch, just a single word could set you off.
Her teeth graze the fabric. You throb through the cotton.
“Mina,” you manage, hand dropping to the side of her face. There’s a tremor in your voice that you’re not used to, that you can’t even pretend to hide. Mina’s got you in the palm of her hand—or rather, on the edge of her lips—even though she’s the one on her knees.
“Relax,” she coos, holding her lips against you, deft fingers unlatching your belt, finding your zipper. “Let me take care of you. Let me take care of this cock,” honeyed words slipping out with the same ease that tugs you free, “Get my tongue all over it, take it deep down my throat, be such a good little whore for you—until you can’t think of anything but how much you want me to swallow every drop you’ve got for me, baby.”
You swallow, caress her cheek, “Darling—”
“Shh," Mina hushes, taking your cock into her hand, holding it against her cheek. So damn happy to have it so close to her mouth once again. “Everything you said over the phone. All that stuff about fucking my face, leaving a mess, filling up my throat—I want it all. You’re going to give it to me now, please.”
She doesn’t even look up at you, just so focused on your cock. Kissing around the shaft, and then drawing her tongue in one, slow, dragging lick all the way from your base, right to the tip. It’s gentle, careful, exploratory.
Introducing her lips to every inch of skin along your cock, over your balls, taking her time to stain all of you with the sheen of her kisses. Careful, so careful. Meticulous too, deep in concentration that you can almost feel her thoughts, intuit from the pressure of her lips how much this means to her. How much she needs it.
And it’s as her breath warms the head of your cock that you realise you’ve got a stranglehold on the armrest of your chair, holding it so tightly you could snap it in two. Not like there’s any helping it, nothing to do but brace yourself as she opens her mouth, pink tongue peeking out, and licks you again—longer, slower.
Holding still now, cock balanced on her tongue, fixing you with this stare.
A dare.
(Don’t move. Don’t interrupt. Let her do her work.)
That’s when her boyfriend calls.
Sorry, her partner.
A jarring noise, a slap in the face that breaks the spell. Vibrating atop your oak desk, a violent buzzing through the room—once, twice, thrice.
Mina’s eyes flick to yours. A split second, a single thought shared. There’s laughter on her lips because of course, because why the fuck not, because this is definitely your kind of chaos. You nod. You’re both in on the joke.
The phone’s still ringing, ringing, ringing.
And Mina’s mouth is still on you, tongue tickling underneath, lips wrapping around, before taking you in deep. Right as she accepts the call.
“Hmf?”
(A good idea to mention this theory you’ve been brewing for a while, the other reason why Mina still hasn’t broken up with boyfriend.
Because of you.
Because of how much fucking hotter it makes her. The thrill, the rush, putting a blemish on an otherwise spotless record.
And maybe you’re just as guilty—because you want to hear her lie to him too.)
“Still working,” is Mina’s deadpan over the phone, somehow keeping a straight face despite how full her hands are with you. She even rolls her eyes. “You know how it is—unreasonable CEOs jumping down my throat for no good reason at all.”
This woman.
Churning lies with such ease that you almost feel sorry for the poor, oblivious soul on the other end of the phone. Almost.
But Mina's too good at all of this. Too good at hiding it all. Too good at everything, really—whether it's singing, dancing, kneeling before you, making your cock disappear down her throat.
Just a slight adjustment in posture, and she’s taking you in deeper. A gentle suck, a swirl of her tongue around the ridge—and oh, the way she’s looking at you, eyes up and so damn full of mischief.
She’s fucking loving this. Loving the way you’re watching her, the way your hand finds her hair as she takes you in, the way you’re fighting to keep your composure. Fighting to keep your breath even and calm and to stop yourself from groaning so loud that it won’t just be her boyfriend, but the whole fucking tower that’s going to hear how much of a slut she is for you.
You can still hear his voice coming through—muted, indistinct—like a ghost, haunting the edges of this pornographic scene you’ve painted together. 
Fuck this guy likes to talk.
“Mhm,” is all Mina has to say to keep him convinced, to let him believe that she’s actually invested in whatever the fuck he’s on about. Keeping him none the wiser that her full attention is on you, her mouth moving up and down, her eyes glued to yours, watching every twitch, every drop of pleasure that flits across your face.
She reaches up with her free hand, wrapping it around the base of your cock. Gliding along your shaft in this twisting movement that sets your nerves alight.
Everything’s just so tight—her grip, her throat, your own breath in your chest.
“Mhm,” again, longer, sounding closer and closer to a moan than a casual agreement, but still, she’s playing the part. Barely listening to what he’s saying, because she’s doing this thing with her tongue—right at the tip, flicking it around your slit—that’s making you test the strength of your chair.
There’s temptation here—her mouth so warm, so wet—it would be so easy to grab a fistful of her hair and fuck her mouth like you know she wants. But you keep your cool, keep your hand gentle and steady atop her head, let her dictate the rhythm.
And when you hear the voice over the phone rise, maybe a bit of frustration or concern, maybe the start of something suspicious, Mina shamelessly pops your cock out of your mouth and answers, “Just having a snack. Late lunch break.”
She hits the mute button.
Bows her head deep, savouring each inch as she takes you deeper, making this fucking sound when your cock hits the back of the throat. Wet, gagging, sloppy noises that build this tension right at the base of your spine that leaves you aching, absolutely desperate to just give her more.
She holds herself there, choking so nicely, so sweetly, on your cock. Her eyes start water, it’s an effort to keep them open, but she’s still smiling through it all, just so delighted to finally taste what she’s been dying to have for weeks.
You’re struggling, “Fucking hell, Mina.”
Mina giggles into your cock, vibrating along your shaft. Pulls her head back; just a rope of spit that connects the two of you, glinting under the fluorescent lights. A poke of her tongue has her scooping it all up and slurping it all down, smacking her lips with a satisfied ‘ah’.
She unmutes.
“Sorry, it just tastes really good. Like nothing I’ve had before.”
There’s a confused murmur coming out of the speaker, a perturbed, “Really?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” and Mina has the gall to wink at you, the audacity to keep her hand on your cock, stroking it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. All the while she just chats to her boyfriend—partner, again—like you’re not about to cover her face with your entire load.
“Mina,” you let slip when she squeezes too hard, cranes her head to feel the weight of your balls on her tongue. Lapping away, licking and tonguing and teasing, until you’re gritting your teeth, holding back the moan that wants to break free.
The voice at the end of the line crackles, “Who’s that?”
Mina doesn’t miss a beat, “Boss for the day,” presses a wet kiss onto the head of your cock in a futile attempt to still you, “Really pushing me hard, making me work for it, you know?”
The voice relaxes, but not enough. “What’s going on over there? Something doesn’t sound right.”
“Everything’s perfect.” Mina’s just so pleased with herself, tongue dancing up and down, over and around, making the chair creak from the reflexive jerk she forces out of you. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”
“I told you that you shouldn’t do these types of jobs, you should listen to me and—”
“Get on my hands and knees and beg them to let me break the contract?” Mina smirks up at you, lips all smeared and messy with your arousal. “I can handle it” she continues on, dragging her lips to your base so she can slur into your waist, “I’m a professional. This is what I’m built for.”
God, he really doesn't deserve her.
He drops the subject so easily, moving on to talk more about him, about his schedules, his work, his boring fucking existence outside of her. And now you’re both rolling your eyes, sharing this secret, this ridiculousness that’s got you both on the edge of laughter and utter bliss.
Mina ups the ante, mutes her side of the call, and places the phone back on top of the desk.
You cock an eyebrow. “Seriously, him?”
She shakes her head. “No, just you.”
And she shows you, proves her point, because Mina’s not one for half-measures. Holds your cock tightly, strokes it again and again, one after another like it’s counting down to something explosive. Bomb’s ticking: the pressure’s building, the heat is coiling in your balls, but she keeps it steady, keeps it slow, keeps it right on that edge where it’s just enough to keep you there, but not enough to push you over.
“I’m just yours,” Mina hums, licking her swollen lips. “I’m yours to do with as you please, but,” she pauses, so she can jerk you just right, stroking with such finesse that you can't believe she's ever been with someone who didn't appreciate it, "I'm really hoping you let me swallow your cock now."
“You’re too fucking greedy.” 
Mina nods so earnestly.
So you give her what she wants, because what’s the point of playing this game if she isn’t going to win? 
You stroke the back of her head, guide her as she takes you all the way—nose to stomach, swallowing you up like you’re her favourite snack, her favourite secret. Her favourite lie to tell herself.
Fucking ridiculous. Too fucking much.
You lift your hips, leaving her to yank down your pants over your knees and to the ground. The clank of your belt buckle against marble echoes through the room, a starting gun to your undoing.
The phone’s still there, he’s still talking, a vaguely muffled annoyance. Mina doesn't even spare it a glance, just looks up at you, mouth full, eyes declaring:
‘Ignore everything else, just enjoy me.’
Fuck.
Mina’s cheeks hollow, her throat pulses, and gone is the usual effortless grace that she carries through everything she does.
No, she’s all raw, all passion. Sloppy now, greedy, showing you just how much she’s willing to do for you. It’s in the way she’s using her hand to squeeze the base of your shaft, the way she’s bobbing her head faster and faster.
Filling the room with the sounds of her slurps and smacking of her lips; her eyes watering with every deepthroat. Making her mouth this perfect, wet, hot little cave that’s swallowing you whole.
And you’re watching, watching every single move she makes. Unable to do anything else, really. Unable to think, to speak, to do anything but stare at her mouth, her eyes, her hand moving up and down, up and down—stare at Mina giving herself over to you.
“Jesus—fuck—” and there’s your voice back again, so much louder than you intended.
But Mina’s smiling around your cock, eyes still on you, urging you on, putting you under her spell. She’s playing with your balls now, her thumb brushing over the sensitive skin, her nails lightly scraping, and it’s like she’s got every button mapped out, knows exactly how to make you go off the deep end.
"Mina, you're just so," you try, rummaging through your addled mind for the right words to pin on this storm before you, "so fucking good at this," you finally settle on.
Mina's eyes light up, triumphant. Deep pools of brown swirling with all sorts of things—few that can be said out loud and even fewer that should ever be thought—and none of which she gives a flying fuck about.
Your cock slides off her lips long enough for her to slur, "Flattery gets you everywhere, sir."
“Mina.”
She's just so happy with it all—it's a little unsettling. Mina, all elegance and poise, so fucking giddy at the opportunity to debase herself at your feet.
She takes a breath, a real one, not the shallow, desperate ones she’s been taking for the past few minutes, and then she’s diving back down. You can see the determination in the set of her jaw, the way she’s holding herself in place with one hand on your thigh so she can devour you whole. And she’s doing a phenomenal job, really, because your cock’s so hard it’s almost painful, and your thighs are trembling with the effort of keeping still.
But she’s not done yet, Mina’s never done. She reaches behind her, unclips her bra with a flick of her thumb, slipping it off her shoulders—a silent, unnoticed escape.
Perfect little tits, perfect little dusky nipples, peaked and ready for your attention. 
She takes one in her hand, rolls the nub between her fingers, playing with it, plucking it like a guitar string, making it sing. Making sure you’re still looking, while she's still sucking you off with her mouth, still fucking grinning around your cock.
A true masterclass in multitasking.
Her other hand stays on you, working in tandem with her mouth. A stroke for every bob, a squeeze for every moan, and she’s whining into your skin, a muffled—mmph, mmph, mmph—so loving that you know it’s not just for show.
Her hand drops down, slipping between her legs, disappearing into the fabric of her skirt. You can’t quite see it, but you know by her sigh as she leans into your thigh, by the way her other hand pinches her nipple harder, that she’s pressing up and into herself.
The fabric’s too thick to see much, but you can imagine her—fuck, you don’t have to imagine—you can almost feel her, her fingers sliding into her wetness, her palm cupping her mound, her middle finger circling her clit like it’s the head of a tiny drum, matching the same rhythm that’s been driving this whole spectacle.
“Your fucking mouth, Mina.”
The words leave you on a groan, a tightening of your grip on her head as she just plays and plays. Every suck pure heaven, warm, wet, utterly divine; pulling your hips closer and closer off the edge of your seat, until you’re nearly falling down her throat.
But even Mina, for all her skill and polish, can’t hold out forever. The fingers at her cunt, the kneading of her own tits, the gagging around your cock, the oblivious boyfriend still blissfully unaware of the depraved scene unfolding on the other end of the line.
It’s a heady cocktail, and she’s had too much too quickly. Her throat’s tightening around you, rogue tears are sliding down her cheeks, and it’s about time that you both give up on pretence and hurtle straight to the crux of this entire escapade.
You stand, rising to your feet before Mina has you tumbling off your chair, sliding your cock out of her chasing lips.
“Mina,” you breathe, voice full of gravel, heavy.
Mina’s frozen, just staring at your cock dangling above her nose, her mouth open and wet, her big, brown eyes begging for its return to her lips.
“Mina,” you repeat.
“Mmm?”
“I want to fuck your face now.”  
Mina licks her lips. “Want to?”
“I will.”
“Please,” she says, a single word like a hot knife slicing through whatever restraint you have let. And you’re just about to lose it, really fucking lose it because she’s so fucking eager, so fucking hot for it, so absolutely fucking yours.
In your office, at your desk, kneeling at your feet, skirt rucked up around her waist, panties drenched.
She ties up her hair into a messy bun.
“Please, use me.”
A twist of your hips has your cock slapping against her cheek, the sound bouncing off the walls, leaving a trail of gloss across her flushed skin.
Mina laughs.
You lean down, grab her hair, thread your fingers through the strands, and guide her lips to where they were made to be.
“Christ,” is ripped from your throat as your cock is back down hers, plunging into her mouth like its home.
You push, push until her nose is squished against your pelvis, holding her there; her throat tight against your cock, her hand working her clit in double time. Whimpers escape past her lips, muffled whines that threaten to break you if you’ll let it.
But you don’t, not yet. You pull out, just long enough to let her gasp for air, only, she doesn't need the respite. She just blinks, and begs—
“Again.”
And again. And again.
Until she’s a writhing mess, until she’s shaking with the effort of holding herself together, until you’re plunging into her mouth so fast that you’re truly fucking her throat.
Deep, harsh strokes that make her cheek bulge, that fuck tears from her eyes. And Mina fucking loves it. Loves every second of it, loves having her head thrown back, her throat working for you like it’s your divine right, like her sole purpose in life has been to take your cock.
You’re fucking her face like you said you would, like she’s been begging you to do for weeks, whispering sweet nothings and filthy somethings into your ear during those late-night phone calls. Giving exactly what she’s been craving, exactly what she’s been dreaming about when she fucked herself so nicely for you to hear.
And she’s just taking it, letting you use her mouth like it’s nothing, because to her, it’s everything.
She’s lost in it, her hand a blur between her legs, her eyes glazed over. She’s so close, so fucking close, and she’s taking you with her; dragging you down into this pit of depravity that she’s been keeping warm for you.
“Mina?”
And there’s the phone again. Louder now, insistent, demanding. Finally noticing somethings not quite right.
"Mina?"
There’s panic in Mina’s eyes—but you’re quick to realise it’s not worry for him. It’s desperation for you. For you to keep going, for you to not notice, for you to keep the fantasy alive.
But you do notice. And it just makes you harder.
You're too far gone now—you're thrusting into her mouth with a fervour that’s almost violent. Mina’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she takes it all, letting you fuck her face with a reckless abandon that’s only heightened by the voice on the phone getting louder, more concerned.
You’re the only voice she’ll listen to now. “Hold still for me, Mina.”
Her eyes go wide, and she nods, her mouth stretched wide around you. Cradling her cheeks, just firm enough to feel the heat of her blush.
“Mina, why are you muted?”
She’s barely even on this planet anymore—just bringing herself closer to the edge, loosening these ragged, wet moans around your pistoning cock.
“Mina, are you ignoring me again, seriously?”
“Mmph—fuh—mmph—” is her attempt at an answer, but she’s too busy letting you use your mouth, too busy fucking herself on her fingers, too busy being the perfect little slut she’s told you she wanted to be.
It fills the room—the sounds of wet, sloppy sucking, careless fucking, your own grunts of pleasure. And somewhere in the background, that voice getting more and more insistent.
“Mina, say something, answer me!”
And she does. Just not to him. She says it to you, mouth full, eyes on yours.
Garbled, stuttered, fucked-up little pleas— “there—there—please—please—oh my god—"
Her hand moves faster, her throat seizes, her eyes roll back in her head. Her body jerks, her hand still working her clit, her mouth still full of you.
Mina cums at your feet, a terrible, beautiful orchestra of noises—moaning, gurgling, gagging around your cock. Swallowing, desperate for a breath of air, trying not to choke, eyes watering so badly it’s a surprise she can see you at all.
You pull out, so abruptly that she gasps and stumbles a little. And yet, despite it all, despite how brutally hard and fast her orgasm hits her, she’s still smiling up at you, as graceful and gorgeous as ever.
So fucking proud of herself.
And she’s not done yet. She’s never done, not really.
Her hand comes up to catch you, holding your cock like an anchor, keeping you ready as she takes a moment to recover. The other reaches for the phone, a shaky hand bringing it to her lips, level with your own tip.
She takes a breath. She’s going to answer.
She unmutes again.
“Sorry. Can’t talk. Gotta finish something big.”
“Mina—what the fuck are you—”
Mina gives you that look—that nod.
Sucks you in one last time, gives you a final choke. A desperate gag, a deep impossible swallow down her throat. And then she releases you from her lips.
The phone clatters to the floor, forgotten.
“Cum for me, please, baby.”
At her instruction, you're erupting.
Mina captures the head of your cock with her lips, keeps it balanced on the edge. Uses both hands to twist and wind around your shaft. Overwhelming you, seizing you into her mouth because this is exactly what she’s been starved for.
Breaking a fucking dam inside you, flooding her mouth with your cum, completing her with your taste. It hits the back of her throat, thick and hot and she swallows and swallows and swallows.
So fucking grateful for every drop, for every pulse that shoots into her mouth, coating her tongue, sliding down her throat. She’s drinking you down like water, like air, like she can’t get enough of you, leaving you breathless until all you can do is just repeat her name over and over again—an endless chant of “Mina.”
And when you’re finally done, when every nerve-ending in your legs isn’t burning down and threatening to take you with it, you pull out of her mouth, gasping for air.
Mina just sits there.
Looking up at you, naked chest heaving, nipples stinging red. Cum slipping out the corners of her mouth, staining her chin. Skirt ruined, panties a sodden mess around her ankles. Hand still on your cock, coaxing you to peace.
And fuck, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
With a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts, Mina reaches down to the floor and picks up the phone. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, not even bothering to be delicate about it.
"Hey," she says, voice miraculously calm and collected. "Sorry—got distracted."
You watch, utterly stunned, as she plays the part of the girlfriend so flawlessly, puts on an Oscar-worthy performance. You can hear the boyfriend's voice, frantic and worried—and completely fooled.
But then she looks at you, clears her throat, and her smile goes wide, and you can see the woman beneath the façade. The woman who's had enough of being bored. Who's decided that she's owed the impossible fantasy.
Kneeling on the floor, yet more powerful than ever.
So, so fucking perfect.
Spreading her thighs, fingers back at her cunt, carefully toying with her clit. Building herself back up to that peak she’s just thrown herself from, because apparently, that’s what you’ve taught her to do.
To never settle, never stop, never be satisfied with just one taste.
You’re cock throbs.
“Mina, you need to tell me what the fuck is going on.”
Her hand moves faster, her thumb circling and pressing, her middle finger slipping inside herself. You can see the gleam under the artificial lights, how her cunt’s making everything sticky and messy.
Making herself nice and ready.
“There's a big mess here,” she says into the phone, all sugary sweet, a perfect story that drips from her tongue like molasses. “Lot of clean up. It’s ruined me—ruined the whole job. It’s gonna keep me here all fucking night.”
(It’s just an arrangement.
That’s what you’re calling it when the moon’s rising over your office, and Mina’s kissing these promises over your heart, drawing up the terms of this unwritten contract that neither of you can really commit to—even though you're both well aware of how much you want to.
Sex, as an agreement. Sex, as a release. Sex, because you’re both fucking incredible at it.
It just might be everything you both need.
You're both just too afraid to be the first to say it out loud.) 
Weeks later, and you get really fucking good at making time for her.
Whether it’s fifteen minutes at a party, a couple hours at an airport, or a few nights spent in a hotel room with the curtains drawn and a do not disturb sign nailed to the door—everything starts to fall into place.
There's always an empty room to be pulled in to, a shadow to be claimed, a corner of the world that belongs to you.
It’s Mina, straddling you in the backseat of a limo, her cunt tight around you as the city lights slide by. Your hand on her throat, not choking but guiding, a conversation based on pressure and pleasure alone. Her tits bounce in your face, begging for your teeth, and you give it to them, biting down until she’s gasping your name into the leather upholstery. The chauffeur pretends not to notice. You don’t pretend anything.
It's you, bending her over the bathroom counter of some stranger’s house, her rather business-like slacks down at her feet to expose the bare, wonderful convex of her ass. You spank her until she’s crying, until she’s bright red and demanding that you make good on your promise to fill her up so she can’t leave this party without globs of you leaking down her legs.
It’s hotel beds that have seen too much, office desks forced to bear your weight, dressing rooms with the door locked tight.
It’s the way she looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching, the way she says your name. How she laughs, how she teases you, how she lets you in—just a little, just enough to keep you hooked. And you do the same.
It’s sex, but it’s not just sex, no matter what you tell yourself.
And it’s Mina again, fixing her hair while you zip her into something far more appropriate, already mentioning, “I'm going to be in New York next week, if you're in the area—"
And it's you, answering in the same way that you always do, "I’ll find a way."
Serendipity finds the two of you in Shanghai, amidst all its concrete jungle and neon lights, kept at bay by the soundproof windows and the drawn curtains of this hotel room turned temporary sanctuary.
Mina's stretched out on the bed, wearing one of your shirts that swallows her up to her knees, her hair a mess of curls and knots that she hasn't bothered to tame. Nose buried in a book—something thick and weighty Nayeon recommended her.
Paying no mind to you, as you’re busy brewing tea in the kitchenette (piping hot, oolong, how she likes it).
You sneak a glance as you wait for the kettle to boil, at the perfect picture she's composing—her bare legs peeking out from the shirt, the soft curve of her waist, the way the light from the bedside lamp casts shadows across her skin.
It's seeing her like this, far more exposed and naked than minutes ago when she was pinned beneath you wearing nothing at all, draining your cum into her cunt and thanking you for the privilege.
The drawbridge is coming down, guards leaving their posts—just the two of you in your stolen moments.
It's nice.
She catches you staring.
Tilts her chin down, peering at you over her glasses.
You ask, "Am I distracting you?"
"Always," she says, and it's loaded with the sum of whispered secrets and inside jokes, the weight of a dozen different glances stolen across crowded rooms. She closes the book, setting it aside, and pats the you-shaped imprint on the spread next to her. "Come here."
You bring a steaming cup over, handing it to her, adding a little more warmth to her side of the bed. An unneeded murmur of thanks, a smile that's brighter than any of the skyscrapers gleaming outside, and a careful sip.
You wait for her review.
A cool, clear, "Ah."
And as for your reward, she sets the mug down on her lap, closing her eyes and pursing her lips. Waiting, patiently.
It's built in you like a habit now—lean in, get the light peck you're owed. Gentle press against her lips, nose bumping up against her glasses, sweetness that makes her cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink.
Just so fucking cute and domestic that it almost feels wrong.
The normalcy, you're realising—doing something that millions of other people do every single day—kisses that aren’t about fucking, power plays and games. Kisses that are just...kisses.
Mina's on the same wavelength, that's her thing now. Looking at you with a slanted smile. A little disbelieving, a little amused.
You're sure you're mirroring it back.
“This is... weird, right?” You finally say, breaking the silence. Feeling the weight of the question, the implication of what you’re really asking. Is this okay? Is it allowed? Can we put a name on this without the whole world imploding?
Mina's smile doesn't falter. "Kinda," she says, and her hand's slipping into yours, her thumb tracing little circles against your palm. “Very. But also, good.”
You nod, not quite believing it. You've had relationships (is that what you're calling this now?)—but none of them felt like this. Like, sure, she makes you hard, but fuck if she doesn't make you weak.
Pulling you into this loop of familiarity, learning things about her that you would've dismissed if it was anyone else. Not just the carnal things—the ones that make her thighs run with need, that make her chant your name like it’s the only word she knows.
Normal people things. Snack addictions, sleeping habits, temperature controls.
The mug goes to the bedside table, and Mina twists her body into yours, landing her head on your lap and curling her legs up so they stay on the bed.
"You know," she says, still holding your hand, fingers tracing up your forearm now, nails drawing in a light tattoo. "I thought that this wouldn't work out."
You mention the obvious. "Because you still, technically, have a boyfriend?"
Mina stretches herself out against your waist, incidental movements that just so happen to make you stir. "No, darling," she's saying, turning to look at you, making your heart stutter. "It's because you're you. Relationships just don’t seem to be in your nature."
You feign injury.  
Even though, truth be told, she has a point there. You’ve never been one for the quiet moments, for the mundane comforts, mornings next to someone you spent the night with.
Maybe it's your own guardrails you've put up, maybe it's some sappy Trojan Horse she's pushed through the gates of your stoic heart—but here you are, stroking her hair while she holds your hand, your fingers playing with the soft strands like you're trying to learn Braille.
"You know," she says, reaching it out to run her thumb down the line of your jaw, "guys like you are all the same."
You arch a brow. "I think I’ve heard this one before.”
"Let me finish," she says, "Obsessed with the thrill of the chase, with the idea of something you can't have. And when you finally get it, you just...disappear."
She grants you the headspace to ruminate over that one. 
"Are you saying I already have you?"
"Haven’t figured it out yet?" she whispers, shifting her weight on the bed. Another Mina special, the incidental movements, shirt pulling taut against her, and with benevolent grace, it slides down an inch. The swell of her breast revealed, an already pebbled nipple peeking out. A shy secret. As if.
And she knows. Mina knows what it takes to turn you on because, deep down, she’s the same. Different animals, same beasts, the roles could easily be flipped: her the billionaire, you the idol, and it would still end up the same.
You’re both chasers of thrills, craving the high of the untouchable, the unattainable.
Doing whatever it takes to feel alive—that's what it boils down to, isn't it?
"I meant it, you know," you're saying, exposing yourself, all gooey and raw. "Never once dreamt of owning you."
It's obvious where Mina's headed with this. So used to people just laying claim of her without even asking—like it's their fucking right. Believing that just because she’s in their vicinity, smiling all pretty and dressed up, she's fair game. Thinking the fame has done to her what it's done to so many others, turned them into commodities.
And maybe she's let them believe the fantasy, it's her job after all, to fuel the delusion and make it feel real. But never once did she truly belong to anyone but herself.
And yet, and yet, and yet.
Mina lifts herself off your lap, body bowing, leaving the shirt to ghost down her arms and leave her chest bare.
Closer still, until she's straddling your hips, thighs pressing down on either side of your legs, and oh, mystery solved, there was nothing under the shirt but her.
And again, Mina, on the subject of your title over her: "Not even if I wanted you to?"
(It takes the length of a phone call for Mina to be officially yours.
Brutal in her efficiency, cutting the guy down and pushing him off the cliff of the inevitable.
You're just as cruel, laughing between her thighs as she slurs vague platitudes, barely encroaching on an apology, uncaring bullets flying across borders.
And then the 'I can't' when prompted for a chance to negotiate, an 'I'm busy' when the pleas come, and a final 'just fucking give up already' when the desperation gets too much and he's becoming less and less important the further your tongue gets into her cunt.
Poor bastard doesn't even know he's not the only one getting fucked.)
You feel like you’ve earned the right to be a tad more reckless.
So, dates.
Conventional, yes, but fuck you could do with some of that now. You had the money, the power, and now you had the girl. So, secret dates, grand gestures, the whole nine yards.
And yet, each one was its own little disaster.
An example: the restaurant.
Michelin stars, gourmet courses, over-the-top bullshit that you unashamedly love. Booking out the entire joint for the night, only for it to all go haywire when Mina showed up in that dress; tight, tiny, black.
"Eyes up here, darling," is what she said, before, "Or, you know, don't. I like the attention."
Just fucking you all the way up, having you pushing her into a backroom before the wine was even poured. Ruining said dress, rucking it up to her waist, making it some poor drycleaner’s problem.
“I was never big on grand gestures,” she assures you, as you pepper her neck with kisses, hands curving around to her breasts on sheer instinct.
"Wish you'd told me that in advance."
"And miss out on this?" Mina groans something fierce when your fingers find purchase. “Never.”
It's just Mina and you, doing what you've done a dozen times over by now, having long blown past any insecurities that this might just be too good, too perfect, that one of you might be the first to bolt for the door and run.
“I swear to god,” Mina’s managing, as you’re shoving her panties to the side, because you’re both well aware that this has to happen right here, right now. “This cock is going to be the death of me.”
You chuckle against her throat. “Wouldn’t be a bad way to go though, right?”
“You’re insatiable.”
“Says you.”
“Please, just—”
Your hips snap into her. She flinches. Screams your name so fucking loud.
Each and every one of the kitchen staff receives a very, very sizeable tip.
It becomes a problem.
Oddly enough, neither of you are at fault.
Leaked photos light up every website, tabloid, and social media platform in mere minutes—Mina and her ex, wrapped up in each other’s arms, the unmistakable blur of a bedroom in the background. Nothing too lurid, nothing too explicit—but just enough to get the world to gasp in collective shock.
The fucking coward did it. You never knew he had it in him.
Sure there's dating on the pictures. Years, probably, back to when their happiness couldn't be called into question, but it does its job.
The statements pointing this out do little to shift the public's attention though, they've already latched on to the chance to rip apart her spotless record. You’ve seen it before, a hundred times with a hundred different celebrities. The cycle of love turned to dust in the blink of a camera flash.
And yet despite all of this, despite the shitstorm that’s swirling around her, despite the radio silence you're expecting, not an hour passes before Mina's calling you again.
“I need you.”
“Then come over.”
Mina belongs here, it’s so obvious.
Walking through the rooms of your home like she’s always been there, like she’s what’s been missing.
None of the art on the walls, the books on the shelves, none of the sculptures worth more money than any person should ever see in their life—none of it make as much sense as she does here, in your space.
Ours, you’re already thinking.
While you’re staring at her, she’s taking it all in—every detail of your domain, eyes brushing over the aged furniture and modern finishes, each aspect of your home that you’ve curated as meticulously as you’ve cultivated your own reputation.
She doesn’t say a word about whatever conclusion she’s drawing—because she’s not the type to judge—she’s just curious. She’s always been curious.
And then she’s in your arms.
Hands looping around your neck as you hold her tight, like it’s been years instead of the mere days since you’ve seen her. Since you’ve felt her heat, heard her whimpers, felt her nails dig into your skin like she’s trying to slip in underneath.
“It was inevitable, right?” She whispers against your collarbone. “Something was bound to fuck this all up eventually. My life, yours. It was all too perfect.”
You hold her tight. Letting her sink into your embrace, disappear into your chest. She’s so small in your arms—not that she’s ever not been, but right now, it’s stark. Like she’s shrunk, folded herself into something more manageable, something easier to hide. Something that won’t be torn apart by the teeth of the media and the rabid fans.
Kiss the top of her head to make her relax a fraction, opening a pressure valve that releases a shaky exhale.
You point out, “It still is.”
Mina blinks up at you, and you pretend you don’t see the dampening in the corners of her eyes. “I need to do the whole apology tour now. Keep my head down, hide my face. That’s what they’re saying anyway. What they expect.”
You shrug. “Could hide out here.”
That makes Mina smile, laugh even, colouring her features with something far more impactful than any of the decor. “And, I'm guessing, fucking each other’s brains out from sunrise to sunset?"
"There'll be a couple of meals in between. You may be surprised to learn I make a mean bowl of ramen."
Mina laughs again, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world—like the chiming of a bell that’s only meant for you. She looks at you, really looks, and you can see the wheels turning in her mind, the genuine consideration she's giving your proposal.
“What do you say?”
“I—”
Before she can finish, you add, “I can handle our little problem. Just leave it to me.”
Mina blinks. There’s the curiosity again. “Handle?”
“Yeah,” you reply, vaguely amused. Something darker in the back of your throat. “I know some people. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Mina stares at you aghast, the smile slipping from her lips. Wondering if she might have missed something in the reality of the billionaire with a silver tongue and a penchant for ruining dresses.
It’s your turn to laugh. “I’m kidding, Mina. Jesus, the look on your face. I’m not going to have the guy killed.”
Mina rolls her eyes. Slaps your chest with a little more force than intended.
You add, with a Disney Villain-worthy ominous tone, “For now.”
“You ass,” she says, but she’s smiling again, the tension all but dissipated.
“Not even I’m capable of having that sort of thing arranged. Well, maybe I am, just never tried, so—” you begin, only to stop immediately at the curving of Mina’s lips. “I was just planning on doing a bit of spin. Tap some of our PR Wizards, maybe offer the wolves something juicier. Whitewash the whole thing—shut him down.”
And a cherry on top of your whole plan—
"Make him wish I'd kill him instead."
Mina’s expression shifts, taking pause to study your face, your words. It’s the pragmatism that gets her, you think—but it’s baked into who you are. You don’t get to a billion dollars by making friends.
As a point of clarification, she asks, "What are you going to offer the press? I mean, you’re not going to leak dirt on someone else, are you?"
You shrug, an easy smile playing on your lips, "I was thinking we could just go public with us. Offer our whole thing."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"My jokes usually make you laugh."
Mina takes her time to ponder this, to consider what you’re actually saying. To process the idea of turning all this—the sneaking around, the private moments, the stolen kisses—into something so exposed. Something translated and made palatable for public consumption, to be picked apart by the vultures skirting the edges of the media.
And there’s fear there too. That the thrill could wear off for her again, the exhilaration could evaporate, and the boredom would settle in.
Or it could be a whole brand-new opportunity. Replacing one thrill with another, the rush that comes with being seen together, the excitement of the chase being replaced with the passion of the capture.
She asks, slowly, carefully choosing each word, doing her best to avoid setting off a bomb that could send this whole thing into a downward spiral. "Is this what you want to do?"
You pull her closer, fit her body flush against yours, and bring your lips down onto hers. You let them linger, let her sigh, let her melt and keen and smile against your mouth.
"Darling," you murmur against her lips, "I've been ready to tell the whole world since the moment I sat down next to you."
Sometimes, the conventional ways are the best.
Stumbling through your house—kissing her hard in the hallway, losing her skirt in the kitchen, tearing off her shirt at the top of the staircase. Carrying her past the threshold of your bedroom and leaving her panties at the door; truly letting her into your world in every way, shape, and form.
Holding her close, one hand at her waist, the other looping around her chest. Kissing into her neck as you lay her down onto your mattress, getting up close and personal until it’s all Mina, all the sweetness and heat of her, the richness of her perfume that’s become her signature.
The red of her blush, her lips, the marks you’re leaving on her skin. The white of her throat, her collarbone, the bra that’s half on, half of.
Pinning her wrists over her head, keeping her still, watching her pupils dilate.
Fucking flawless. Every inch, every glorious detail. Underneath you, at your mercy, already staining your sheets with her need.
And then, a beg:
“Please.”
“Greedy.”
“It’s how you made me.”
Your other hand ventures lower, drifting down her stomach, holding against her abs, leaving your fingertips to ghost over her mound.
She shudders at your touch.
You let her know, “I wasn’t complaining.”
And your tongue is on hers, soft to start, relaxing into familiar patterns, swipes of reintroductions, until Mina’s arching her back, urging you on. But you’re greedy in your own way; wanting to take your time, wanting to extract all these sighs and moans straight from the source.
Only, Mina’s having none of it.
“You’re really going to torture me after the day I’ve had?”
You quirk an eyebrow, push your thumb down against her clit. Applying enough pressure to make her hips buck.
"Torture is a strong word, darling."
Mina's huffs as you hold her there, keeping her locked in place and at your mercy. Wriggling under your grasp, but not making any real effort to escape. After all, where would the fun be in that?
"Fine," she's relenting, eyes slipping shut, unable to hide the smile that’s making its way onto her face. "Call it what you want. Just—more."
"Then let's just call it a pleasant distraction."
Your lips are together once more, your kiss quickly turning from something sweet to something a lot more demanding. Throwing Mina a bone, pressing into her a declaration of intent that has her wild for you.
You take your fingers, slide it down, swiping through her folds. Dancing around her entrance, seeing how nice and slick she already is for you, feeding that gnat in the back of your head that urges you to just fill her whole. Right before pressing up into her cunt.
“Yes,” Mina whispers into your mouth, hips rising to meet your hand, helpless little shivers around your first, then second digit—pushing until you’re knuckle deep inside her heat, making her squirm and cry, “Just stretch this fucking pussy, please.”
“Oh, you’re so wet for me,” you say, like it's a surprise, like she's ever not, like she doesn't part her legs and beg for you to take the invitation to her cunt every single time.
And Mina’s reaffirming, “Of course I am, I’m always—” but she never gets to finish her sentence, because you’re sliding a third finger in, and she’s trying so hard to keep it all together despite how determined you are to pull it all apart.
You’re too attentive—watching her face, every micro expression. Watching for every twitch, every whine, every cry that gets stuck in her throat when she tries to swallow it down.
There’s beauty in all of it, every single time, you could never get enough of it. Been burned into you now—what it takes to make Mina come undone. The right ways to touch her, the spots that make her preen. Where to be gentle, when to be rough, how to keep her guessing.
It’s all here, now, distilled to its basest elements, and it doesn’t even take much. You’re too good at this, know her far too well to need anything other than the sound of her breath to dictate your pace.
Your thumb plays at her swollen clit, doing nothing but pressing down as your fingers saw in and out of her slippery cunt, making her clench around you like she always does. Faster and faster, until she’s crying for it, shivering and trembling underneath you, struggling against your hold on her wrists because she's dying for something to hold onto.
“You—you’re too much,” Mina pants, because that’s all she can do now as you push into her with purpose. So, so fucking wet, creaming around your fingers, pooling in the palm of your hand. “Too—too—too fucking—”
Losing control over her own limbs, cumming with a sharp cry, levitating off the bed as your hand works magic between her legs, needing a hard kiss to ease her back down to Earth.
The aftershocks still roll through her body, leaving her with these tiny, frantic whimpers. You keep her pinned, soothe her with your thumb at her clit, padding around in gentle circles, feeling her spasm and pulse around your fingers.
Your kiss ends on that high note, parting lips to give Mina a chance at a complete inhale. Her chest is heaving, nipples poking out of the top of her bra, skin already sticky with sweat. Eyes opening, hazed over with need and the beginnings of tears.
“I—I need more.”
Hands let go of her wrists, fingers slide out of her cunt, and you lean back to watch her try to compose herself. It’s a battle she’s not winning.
Mina’s blinking up at you, trying to catch her breath, trying to remember how to do anything other than be fucked into oblivion by you. You help her—leaning over, thumbs hooking under her bra straps. Pulling it down with a gentle tug that makes her arch into the motion, makes her chest spill out and your mouth water.
You take the chance to admire her. To drink her in, appreciate her the way she deserves to be appreciated—a masterpiece spread out on your bed, naked and needy.
There’s the intoxication, knowing you’re the one that did that to her, knowing that you’re the one that’s going to do it again. Over and over again.
“If I have to wait another second, I’m going to scream,” Mina says, the demand losing its edge in a whine.
You chuckle, press an open-mouthed kiss onto her breast, sucking a nipple between your teeth.
Sometimes, you just can’t resist.
“Let’s not pretend that isn’t exactly what I want.”
“Make it happen, then.”
Mina holds position as you pull back, keeping her hands over her head, keeping as still as a statue as you come to your knees over her. Eyes on you as your shirt, your belt, your pants go. Eyes on your cock as your briefs fall away, leaving it standing tall and thick and ready for her.
There’s power dynamics at play here—how Mina’s so vulnerable to you, how she’s laid herself out, unwilling to move until you tell her to. She understands it, implicitly. Knows she’s playing right into your hands, forced to wait while you let the anticipation build.
You hold your cock above her, stroke it carefully. Watch her eyes track it. See her gulp.
And she begs, again, “Please,” softer now, the unmistakable tremble in her voice. "I just—I need it so fucking bad."
Whether on purpose or by instinct, her legs splay, presenting her pussy, glistening with want. There’s the pulse in her clit, the need dripping over her folds—you feed the agony just a little more, hovering over the entrance, letting the tip of your cock graze over it. Teasing, taunting.
"Beg for it."
Mina opens her mouth, but she fails to summon the words. Just leaves her lips hanging open, leaving you an opening for your fingers to push in and try to help her find the right plea.
Her tongue flicks out, licks at your digits, the taste of her arousal still thick on them. The wetness of her tongue as she sucks, the suction of her lips as she envelopes each finger, one by one. Savouring her own flavour with deep, longing slurps, with grateful hums resonating around your fingers.
Leaking down the tip of your cock, cunt getting wetter and wetter the longer she’s denied. Making you throb against her, making your hips jerk and bump dangerously close to where she needs you to be.
But you still don’t enter her. You just wait until she’s done, until your fingers are clean and wet, and she’s left a trail of kisses up to your wrist.
It’s then that you drag your fingers out from her lips and demand of her once more:
“Beg.”
And this time, Mina’s able to say it clearly, confidently, right from her chest—
“I need you inside me. Need to feel you so deep inside me that I can’t tell where I end and you begin. I want to make you cum so hard you’ll never want to leave, want to leave your mark so deep inside me that even if you do, I’ll still feel you.”
Each word, a fucking gift.
And her reward—
A hard, quick plunge straight into her cunt. Inside her, instantly buried, immediately unbearable. Just too good.
Mina can’t do anything, just dig her nails into the sheets and try not to scream at the suddenness of it, at the way you complete her without any warning at all.
It all just ripples through her, a second orgasm already possessing her and forcing her into seizure. Can’t even hold it together—can’t keep the moans contained, can’t keep herself steady—can only just lock eyes with you and hope that you’re seeing it all, hope that you’re feeling it too.
Mina’s got no control around you anymore, none at all.
“Your cock,” she’s saying, repeating it over and over. Like it’s brand new to her, like it hasn’t ever left her wrecked a hundred times over.  “Your fucking cock.”
Words punctuated by the slaps of your hips, the wet sounds of your bodies colliding, of Mina welcoming every stroke of your cock inside her. So fucking tight, gloved around you like it was forged specifically for your cock; not for anything else but you, only you.
“So hard, my God.” Mina’s hands clasp behind your neck, needing a firm hold on something solid and real. “So fucking hard for me, so—so—fuck—”
Her lips are everywhere, a flurry of butterfly kisses across your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, the edges of your jawline. Crazed, unbridled assault of affection. Disarming, incredibly hot. Mina doing her best to mark you up before she’s torn away again.
It’s far too early in the processions—habit would usually have her playing it cool, trying to keep up the façade of control, hold onto shreds of dignity, until she’s unravelling completely and begging you to fuck her harder, deeper.
But now, she’s just letting you have her.
No games, no pretences.
Just you, and her, and this wild, hopeless need to feel good, to be consumed by this.
“Yours,” Mina’s whispering, voice cracking around the edges, “All yours.”
And you know it. Have known it. Had it signed and sealed in ink since the very first time she told you. When you made her knees buckle and eyes water as you took her in every way possible. Since she called out for you, said your name into the quiet of the night like it was a secret she never wanted to keep.
Yet it’s hearing it now, the sum of all these moments stacked on top of each other; the haunts that you’d frequent, the private corners that you’d made yours, the endless phone calls and messages and photos that could fill entire warehouses with their filth.
Finally here—both of you, panting, sweating, sex thick in the air. The world outside forgotten.
Fucking Mina so hard, so deep, euphoria shooting straight through you each time your cock bottoms out inside her. The softness of her cunt, its heat, its creaminess, its fucking divinity. Leaking out all around you and squeezing you so good that it’s a miracle that you’re still coherent enough to speak.
But you do, with a gruff, “Already knew that, darling.”
Mina’s laughing, because that’s the type of high you’re giving her. Even with the way you’re stretching her open, even with her eyes barely open and her toes curling into the bed—she’s laughing because it’s the only thing she can do. Because it’s all so absurdly perfect that she can’t find the energy to do anything else.
“All this, all of you,” you’re leaning in, at the base of her throat, licking a stripe up to her earlobe. Drumming the words into her skin, until she shivers. “Every part of you. All mine.”
Simple words that hold so much sway over her, that could pull her apart or build her right back up. Words that make Mina clench around you, make her cunt grasp you so tightly as if she’s trying to make them real.
“Always,” she’s heaving, “Always yours.”
And there’s this look on her face, like she’s lost in a dream—eyes glassy and all fogged up, breath hot against your shoulder. Glowing under the dimmed lights, making the sweat pooling at the base of her throat shimmer.
Keeping your hand there, at her neck, like it’s the only thing keeping her from floating away. Ruining her. Because really, it’s all for her. All of this is all for her pleasure, her satisfaction.
You’re just along for the ride, so fucking lucky to have her like this. So impossibly beautiful, just knowing she exists would drive you insane if you didn’t get to be with her. Didn’t get a chance at this pussy, so perfect, dripping so much, made so hot for you and only you. Your own personal slutty cunt.
It’s the way her legs wrap around your hips—the smoothness of her skin, the power in those thighs, holding you like she’s afraid you’ll pull away. Like she’s terrified you’ll leave her like this, frantic and wretched and so, so fucking wet.
The newest picture you’re painting, your magnum opus in her name—her tits bouncing with each thrust, nipples stiff and flicking in the air. The yielding of her back, bending just so she can accommodate that extra length of you inside her. And her stomach—fuck, those abs. Tightening and loosening, shaking with every hit of your hips, with every sharp gasp of air.
Demanding of you. Cum for me. Please. Now.
“I need this. Exactly this from now on,” Mina’s declaring, stuttering it like you’re fucking every syllable out of her tightness. “Just you fucking me. Whenever we’re together, every second we get alone—fuck—"
And you’re nodding because you’re always right there with her, always on the same wavelength, thinking the exact same fucking thing.
“Keep filing me up until I can’t take it anymore. Until I’m screaming so loud, I can’t even hear myself think—”
Breathless words that flood your ears, that Mina needs to get out, needs to make sure you hear. Absorbed straight into your bloodstream, pumping into your cock, fed right back into her cunt. So fucking tight. So downright incredible that you’re speeding up, driving in deep, as deep as you could possibly go.
“Until I’m so full of you that I forget my own name—forget any other name but yours—until I—until I—”
A nasty hit makes her body curve and rise, makes her pussy clamp around you, in warning of the orgasm to come, the one you’re both hurtling towards with a kind of reckless abandon that’s become second nature.
“Until I—please—just always make me feel this way—”
“You will,” you promise, meaning it, fucking it into her like your life depends on it. Like you need it to survive, because maybe you do. Maybe you’ve never truly lived until you’ve felt Mina’s cunt quiver around your cock like this, until you’ve heard her beg for you like you’re the only thing she needs to breathe. And again, for good measure, “you will."
And oh, that’s all it takes. That’s enough to have Mina spilling.
“Cumming,” is her proclamation. Repeated, ad infinitum, just, “Cumming, cumming, cumming.”
All over your cock, all around your cock. Cunt strangling you with the force of it.
And this is where you decide Mina’s most beautiful.
When she’s consumed by climax, when she’s held prisoner by it, when she’s just nothing but a canvas for you to leave your marks all over.
“Feel so good—so fucking good—”
It’s the best kind of challenge, pushing her through it.
Worshipping her in all the ways that count, treating Mina in ways woman like her should never be treated. Tearing an angel down from the heavens just to hammer her cunt into submission, and being thanked for it afterwards.
“God,” Mina’s trying, voice rasping and broken, “I—fuck—I can’t—”
You take her, hand wrapping around her tits, pinching, rolling, teasing nipples until they’re as tight as her cunt around you. Leaning in and capturing her lips, drinking down her whimpers with a kiss so deep you can taste your name on her tongue.
Fucking her, ruining that tight, little pussy, through every wave that crashes down over her, that burns her up from the inside and makes her so Goddamn hot.
Leaving her in disbelief that it could ever feel this good again, that there's a light at the end of this tunnel, that there's a life after being fucked so thoroughly by your cock.
Holding her through it, preventing her from crumbling into a million overstimulated pieces. Slowing down the pace of your hips with steady, deliberate thrusts until you’re just inside her. Cock throbbing, bathing in her heat, waiting.
Mina stirs, eyes flutter open, meeting yours. “Cum inside me. Wherever you’d like.”
There’s only one real choice. Mina knows this as well as you do.
Your cock leaves her cunt, slick with her juices, her cum. Proof of your dominion over her body, gleaming along your shaft.
Nothing but bliss on Mina’s face, so well-fucked and satisfied and just plain happy that it’s almost a surprise she hasn’t melted away into a puddle. She’s smiling, looking up at you through her lashes, sweet and soft and perfect.
Turning herself over, bowing down on her knees, pointing her ass up at you like it’s the universe itself handing you a present and saying, ‘Here, this is yours.’
You can’t resist that kind of temptation.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” Mina tells you, rolling her hips higher still, flaring out her hips, treating you to the perfectly round globes of her ass. “Waiting for you to take me. However you want. Make it hurt so good. Make me remember how you feel.”
Her hands reach back, delicate fingers spreading plump cheeks apart. The tight, pink ring of her ass winking at you. A sight that never gets old, a vision that’s forever carved into the back of your eyeballs.
One last request. “Please.”
Your cock pushes in.
“Thank you.”
Right away, it’s too fucking much. Your cock breaching through her asshole, pushing in inch by inch. Slow and torturous, the kind of thing that makes you want to yell.
Then the first thrust—that first hit, like a narcotic, straight through your veins, every single time. Feeling it, sensations so intense, so sharp, that you forget to even breathe.
And Mina’s crying. Crying out, muffled by the pillow she’s biting into. Yet still, pushing back against you, urging you deeper, even though she’s coming apart, even though she’s shaking from the sheer effort of having you fill her.
“Darling,” you call to her, “you’re doing so good,” because she is. Good, good, so fucking good for letting you split her in two like this. For letting you ruin her in all the best ways.
The second thrust is easier, smoother. Body giving in to your demands, stretching around your cock like it always does, like it’s made to do. To bend and flex to your whims and desires.
With every push, every retreat, every agonisingly, achingly slow grind into her ass, you’re nearing that rapturous end.
“So fucking good for me, Mina. Your ass is so tight around me. Such a good girl.” You’re grunting now, trying to ease her into it, to build up to the point where you can pound her, push her like you really want to.
Mina’s nodding, eyes screwed shut, sunken in the way you’re stretching her out. It’s a familiar feeling, having her ass opening up for you. A dance you’ve performed so often it’s almost muscle memory—each step painstakingly learned; each move carefully choreographed.
You’re easing into her, slow, so fucking slow that it’s a wonder that either of you doesn’t implode with want. But Mina’s good, so good, letting out these tiny, shuddering breaths that you feel down to the marrow of your bones.
And then, as your is fully seated in her ass—
“Don’t hold back,” Mina says, quietly, barely audible, but the need is crystal clear. “All of it, please.”
Hand in her hair, hand at her waist. Gripping into her, guiding her and then fucking her, really, truly flooding her ass with your cock, disappearing into her tightness until your hips are slapping into hers.
So pretty, even like this, even when her moans are getting louder, borderline screams that are cut off by the cotton of the pillow, her knuckles turning white in the effort. Her back tenses, muscles rippling underneath your palms.
She dips a hand underneath her, between her legs. Fingers at her cunt, whirling around her clit, doing all she can to keep up with you.
“Feels fucking amazing. Your ass, Mina,” you’re trying to say, but it’s coming out all gravelly and thick. “So fucking tight for me.”
It’s the one through-line that’s kept steady over these months. Mina’s transcendental beauty, Mina’s razor-sharp intelligence, Mina’s pussy that’s always, perpetually yours. All these things; but it’s Mina’s ass—that perfect, juicy, heart-shaped, fucking flawless ass that keeps you up at night.
Every time you’re buried inside, it’s like coming home to something sacred. Tightness gripping you, ass swallowing your cock in waves, the kind of feeling that makes you believe in a higher power—because nothing so divine could possibly be man-made.
“Fuck, I just—” Mina’s breathing out, quick huffs because that’s all she can manage, “just love this so fucking much. Love how you feel in my fucking ass.”
Her hand’s working overtime now, circling her clit with a fervour that’s almost religious. Pussy starting to leak again, juices running down her thighs, mixing with the sweat, pooling at her knees. Fuck, the way she’s touching herself while taking you in, so willingly, so wantonly, so utterly destroyed for you—she’s going to cum again, you can feel it. And you’re not far behind.
“I think I’m going to—fuck, I only just—but I’m going to—again—you’re going to make me—again—” She’s squealing, half-mumbling, full-crying, and your heart nearly bursts out of your chest because it’s all for you.  
You’re not even managing anything other than desperate thrusts, just fucking her with everything you have—like you’re trying to claim her inside and out, trying to leave your fingerprints on every part of her so everyone will know she’s been yours all along.
“Please, please, please,” again and again, stuttering out, “Just—just—just—”
Just keep going, keep pushing into her until she’s shaking, until she’s pleading for you to stop, to let her breathe, because she’s about to fucking break.
Or, really:
Keep going and never, ever stop.
The hand in her hair tightens, pulling her back, making her arch. That perfect spine, the curve that’s painted by God himself. Kisses into her shoulder, into the crook of her neck, making her whimper.
“Keep fucking me. Like this—like this—God—I’m going to—again—”
Pulling her closer to you, so you can feel the tremors starting from her core, spreading out like wildfire. Pushing her hand away, taking over between her legs—rubbing, teasing, circling her cunt and pushing her closer and closer to the brink. Fucking her so deeply that you can feel the first quivers of her orgasm from the inside out, daring to take over her body again.
“Keep fucking—touching me, fill me up—just don’t—please, I need it—”
A final plea, her last rites, before she’s lost.
“Cumming—cumming again—please, oh, please—oh—”
Mina’s body goes lax, a ragdoll in your arms. But you keep fucking her through it. Through the quakes and shivers, through the cries—through the crying out. Pleading. Pleading for you to follow her into oblivion.
And fuck. If you’re not right there with her.
You’re close, chasing her, feeling her orgasm, feeling it coil around your cock and pump through her veins and into yours. Feel her—her body, her muscles, her cunt—tightening, tightening, tightening around you until it’s unbearable.
“Cum for me—with me—” she’s repeating, her newest mantra, “cum inside me. Give it to me—please, I need it—please—so badly—”
Begging, dying for it. Willing, wanting to do anything for it.
But she doesn’t need to—you can’t fucking hold on any longer.
“Mina—fuck—"
You slam into her, and finally burst.
Filling her ass with your cum, feeling it spurt into her, thick and hot. Pumping into her, over and over, getting wrung dry by her ass, cumming so hard it feels like your bones might shatter.
Cumming until your vision swims, until the architecture in your knees threaten to give out, until all you can do is hold onto her hips and keep her in place, keep her right there, impaled on your cock, until every single drop of cum has found a home inside her ass.
Until you’re so sensitive it’s almost painful. Until the orgasm has passed over the two of you and left you feeling like you might dissolve into nothing but pure sensation.
“Christ,” you manage to get out, the word tearing out of you like it’s being ripped from your chest. Holding Mina close—embracing her, seeing just how much she’s loving it. How thankful she is. Taking it all, soaking it all in, moans turning into whimpers that you’d swear are prayers of gratitude.
Body limp and strung out, fucked so hard she can’t even hold herself up anymore—Mina collapses into the bed, pulling you with her, your cock still buried deep inside her.
Like the first time, like every time, it’s a complete fucking disaster.
Tangled up in sheets, in each other. Sticky with sweat, stickier with cum. And Mina turns her head to look at you, just so pleased, and so gleefully satisfied.
You lean in and kiss her, slow and deep, resisting the urge to stir, to roll her onto her back and start this whole thing over again. Claim her once, twice, a dozen times more.
But you don’t. You just lay there, breathing into her neck, letting all of this, your orgasms, your bliss, your absolute contentment roll through you.
There’ll be time to keep going, to keep fucking her. Give her the same tour of your house that she gave you that first night.
Eat her out in the kitchen. Fuck her into the sofa. And yeah, introduce her to the balconies on the higher floors.
For now though, there’s Mina, lips parting with yours, looking at you with a smile that’s this original blend of lust and love and admiration. “You really know how to ruin a girl, you know that?”
You chuckle, picking a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “Just trying to scratch an itch.”
Everybody loves a love story.
And yours is packaged up so nicely, polished and made shiny and perfect for the public to see.
It's the type of story the media dies for—a tale of modern romance, woven through the glitz and glamour of celebrity life. The cold-blooded billionaire who had his heart stolen by one of the nation’s daughters, and then chased her across continents in order to get it back.
You and Mina, becoming the ultimate power couple—the kind that makes the paparazzi's cameras click in unison and tabloids sell by the millions.
Together at every high-profile event, her hand nestled in the crook of your arm, your thumb tracing lazy circles on her wrist—a secret promise of the bruises she’ll wear under her designer dresses. A whispered reminder of the things you’ll do to her when the lights go out and the world isn’t watching.
But nobody sees that. The public sees the smiles, the kisses, the sweet little glances that pass between you—and they eat it all up.
They'll never see the way she begs for your cock, the way you fuck her until she can't walk straight, the way she rides you until all you know is her name. They don’t know that it wasn’t love at first sight—it was lust, paroxysms of it, pure and raw and unbridled.
But here you are.
Mina, in your bathroom, smiling at you through the mirror. Dressed to the nines, looking like a fucking dream. Making it so obvious now that you wonder how you missed it at the start. The way she looked at you that first night, the way she looked. It was all there, laid out in big bold letters, all caps, telling you that this is what you’ve been searching for—what you needed all along.
That dress she’s wearing—some dazzling shade of green. Olive? Celadon?
“Emerald,” she smiles, catching you staring. “It’s emerald, darling.”
You grin back. “Then it should match.”
Mina’s eyes flick to the box in your hand, curiosity piqued.
“Got you something.”
You hand her the box—a simple, muted green velvet, lacking any markers or logos to give away the contents. Ergo, it’s really fucking expensive.
She takes it out of your hands. Opens it, and her breath catches.
“It’s—” Mina whispers, lifting a necklace from the box. A simple, stunning piece. A thin diamond band with a solitary jade teardrop hanging from the center.
"Yours."
Mina holds it up against the light, seeing how it dances through the stone like it’s alive. When her eyes come back to yours, she’s beaming—a smile so wide it makes you wish you had your phone ready to snap a photo.
“Help a girl out, would you?” she says, turning her back to you, sweeping her hair over her bare shoulder.
You step forward, kissing the skin there, feeling the softness of her neck, the pulse of her vein. Your hands come up to fasten the necklace around her, the coldness of the diamonds brushing against your knuckles.
“You know, there’s one thing I was wondering about,” you murmur, letting the jade rest atop her throat.
Mina giggles, tilts her head slightly to the side. The jewels sparkle. “Oh?”
“That first night. The gala. You came alone.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Mina repeats, amused. Happy to have her own little secret, the one thing you've yet to pry out of her between the sheets. She regards you through the reflection, a twinkle in her eye that says she’s been wondering what took you so long to ask.
“Yeah, I’ve never quite figured it out. I mean I know why you were alone. But why did you come at all? What were you doing there, just sitting all pretty and by yourself. It felt so wrong to me at the time.”
That makes Mina laugh, making you feel somewhat silly to even ask. She spins on her heels, facing you; the necklace sitting perfectly against her skin. She runs her fingers over the chain, ending at the pendant. Tapping it. Once. Twice.
And she doesn’t even need to ask you if it looks good on her or if it suits her because she knows. She can tell by the look on your face.
She wears it like a fucking collar.
“Why?” Mina says again, stretching the syllable out long and wide, until you’re staring at her lips, knowing you’re about to kiss her again, knowing that you may very well not make it out of the house tonight, likely not even make it out of the bathroom.
You’ll be ruining that dress, fucking her against the sink, pushing her up into the mirror, kissing into the top of her spine and repeating over and over again—mine, mine, mine.
“Because you invited me.”
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igotanidea · 3 days ago
Text
World's worst wingman: Jason Todd x reader (ft. Dick Grayson)
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story borrowed from @gay-dorito-dust, thank you :)
Summary: Dick being Jason's wingman.
***
„Come on, just go do it!”
„No.”
„Why not?”
„Because.”
„Why are you being stubborn? I saw you eyeing her whole night! Seriously, if you keep bringing that face expression on, you will turn into an anime character and-“
Jason groaned and run fingers through his already messed up hair.
For the record – he had no idea that the object of his interest in the form of Y/N would be at this particular club tonight.
Well – maybe a faint idea. Just a vague concept of her whereabouts.
It wasn’t like he stalked her a little, getting to know her favorite places to hang out, her work and her home and the way she was using to commute to ensure its safety.
Definitely not.
But even if he did – there was no regrets in his actions with regards to that.
What he did regret though – was bringing Dick with him to act like some sort of wingman. Stupid. Idiotic. Completely reckless behavior. HE should have known better than that.
Instead of having a chance to talk to her, he was stuck by the table, trying to melt into the plush backrest of the couch behind his back, that happened to be the same color his face was turning into.
Forced to listen to his brother constant babbling how he can’t be such a coward and shy and antisocial and that she seemed to be a nice girl and why won’t Jason just get his ass up and –
“Shut up.” Jason muttered, edging the thin line between behaving and getting a temper tantrum.
“Ohhhh! Is my little Jaybrid getting flustered?” Dick teased, grinning like a madman, deriving almost sadistic pleasure from tormenting his brother.
“I’m getting so many regrets about telling you shit about her.”
“Oh, come on, don’t say it! That’s so not fair! I’m only here to help you, cause with the way you’re acting now I don’t see much chance to succeed in-”
“I’m going to get a drink!” Jason stood up from the table so abruptly that only by miracle it didn’t trip over.
“Oh yeah! That’s the spirit! And while you’re at it, can you bring me one more pina colada?”
It was all just a big fat joke to Dick.
***
“Hey, can I have a beer and a pina colada?” damn the second part of his sentence barely left his throat.
“that;s an unusual mix, istn;t it?” she chuckled grabbing a glass and starting to prepare the drink with learned precision.
“Yeah, it’s not for me – “ Jason stuttered, despite himself “It’s for-“
“Your date?”
“huh?”
“That guy over there?” Y/N pointed towards the Dick, waving at her crazily across the club
“WHAT? He’s not my date! He- he’s my –“ it took a lot of effort from Jason to not address Dick as his prey, but somehow, gulping heavily and clenching fists he managed to calm down. Ish. “-brother. He’s my effing brother.”
“Oh, such a  relief!”
“Relief? Why?”
“Cause it means he’s not gay, huh?”
“Oh…”
Of course she was asking about Dick. How could a girl like her ever pay attention to a guy like Jason?
“Relax, I’m kidding. It’s only because of the drink. I mean – what kind of a man orders pina colada unless he’s playing on the other side of the field or has a particularly nasty sense of humor, right?”
“Are you always this observant?”
“You know, some people think I’m just  a bartender, but the truth? I’m also a watcher and a listener. You wouldn’t believe the amount of drunk girls crying their broken heart out on this particular counter.”
“Hah!” he chuckled. For some crazy reason her attitude was making him feel at ease. Like he could actually maybe stand a chance with her?
“So, here’s your pina colada and your beer. Enjoy.”
The second she handed him the beverages he knew the moment was over. He was a customer at the bar and she was working here. They were not friends and definitely not more.
“Yeah, um – thanks …” he muttered, retrieving back into himself, grabbing the mugg and a tall glass, heading back to Dick with sense of defeat inside him.
***
“Are you crazy?!”
“Stop yelling!”
“But are you crazy?!” with the way Dick was tugging at Jason’s shirt it was truly a miracle that the younger brother did not end up drenched in and reeking of beer. “You had a chance! It was the perfect opportunity and you’re back here?! Please tell me you at least asked her out!”
“I –“
“Holy shit, Jason, you totally blew it.” Dick rubbed his forehead “Tell me you told her, you liked her!”
“Well-“
“Ok, fine, fine. Let’s lower the bar and the expectations there then. Tell me you told her she’s pretty.”
“I’m not telling the cliché that any drunk man would!”
“You’re hopeless. You are totally hopeless. My god, did I teach you nothing during all those years?!”
“Shut up, Dick!”
Too bad it was too late and Dick was already on a highway to making a scene and the biggest commotion this little suburban club has ever seen.
“Dick!” Jason hissed, feeling all eyes on them. All eyes except Y/N’s who was apparently ending her shift, cleaning some of the stuff from the counter and filling in her colleague.
“Quick! Fast!” Dick started pushing Jason towards her direction.
Mistake.
A little tip: if you ever try to push a 6 ft and 200 pounds man in any direction at all, make sure to make sure he expects it.
Otherwise, the mass of muscles may just subdue to the undeniable power of physics. Especially the gravity and the rules of dynamics. You know, the whole a body set in motion moves in a uniform motion and all shebang.
In Jason’s case it resulted in him losing the balance, falling backwards and stumbling upon unexpecting Y/N, crashing into her as they both ended on the floor with a very disturbing crack coming from somewhere.
“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Y/N? Are you okay? I am so sorry, I am so terribly sorry, how many fingers do you see-“
 “Ouch….” She groaned, reaching for the hand he was reaching towards her, letting him help her up. “Five?”
“Three. Close enough.”
“So you’re a sloth now?”
“huh?”
“Well, I said five fingers, you said three. Sloths have three fingers and – mh. Dry joke, sorry.”
“You must have hit your head pretty bad, huh?” he could swear to god, he had no idea where that joke came from, just slipped his mouth, but to his relief – she laughed. Not in a mean way, not at all. It was a genuine, happy laugh. He made her laugh.
“Yeah, maybe. I swear I am usually in a better shape.”
“I’d love to see that.” He muttered, and in his head it was just a thought never spoken aloud, but when she tilted her head and gave him a funny look, Jason realized he actually did just that. Spoke up. Bared himself to rejection, teasing, hurt, pain, depression –
“Ok.”
“Ok?” his eyes grew wider.
“Yes. Ok. I can give you a sample. And also you owe me.”
“Um, yeah, yeah, ok, so – “ he scratched his head awkwardly.
“I like coffee. And I have a day off tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay then so – “ say something you idiot! Say something! “there’s this little café at the 23rd and-“
“See you at 8.” She smiled, grabbed her coat and with a wave of her hand disappeared leaving him stunned.
He had a date. Ish. A meeting. A meeting with a girl he liked.
He could jump up from the sheer joy of this unexpected turn out of events, if it wasn;t for the one little fact ….
“RICHARD GRAYSON!!!”
The yelling could wake up the dead and sensing the incoming sequence of events, Dick quickly started moving through the crowd towards the exit.
“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!”
It seemed that after Red Hood was done with his job, Nightwing would be excluded from patrolling that night.
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writhyv · 3 days ago
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⋆。°✩ your domestic boyfriend ignored you
fairy of shampoo | park jongseong x male!reader
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pairing: jay x male!reader genre: fluff (itz not zat zeep) word count: 1.8k notes: soft jay hours
Lately, something has been bothering you.
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"Ugh..." You scrunched your forehead as you sat in your corner of the office, lost in your thoughts. Your mind was full of worries, and you couldn’t shake off the confusing feelings that weighed on your heart.
"What's wrong with him?" One of your co-workers passed by your desk, curious about your mood.
"He's just thinking too much," your quirky office friend jumped in, excited for some office gossip.
"About what?"
"He'll be fine. He’s just being dramatic," your other co-worker said, leaning back in his chair. "He’s been like this since he got here—"
"I'm not being dramatic!" You protested, your voice rising a bit.
"See?" Your co-worker pointed at you with a teasing look.
Frustration filled you, and you scratched your head quickly, feeling stuck with this problem. It wasn’t just any small issue; it felt really important.
"Totally," your quirky friend agreed, tapping her pen on your desk playfully. "Veins popping, eyes turning red... He’s really in his head."
"But it’s Jay!" You whined, spinning your office chair around.
Your colleagues groaned collectively at the mention of your boyfriend’s name. Of course, it had to do with your sweet love life.
"Let me guess, he wanted to see that new musical movie?" Your laid-back co-worker chimed in without missing a beat. You turned to him and nodded eagerly.
"Yes! Yes!" You stomped your feet like a child. "But now I feel like I messed up!"
"It’s not the end of the world if you don’t go to the movies. The film will still be there," he pointed out, trying to be practical.
"But still! He really wanted to take me out since this is all the time he has before going back to his gigs!" You squeezed your face in frustration. "And this morning, he just ignored me."
A chorus of mock gasps filled the air.
"Come on!"
"You do realize he’s still a person, right? He probably didn’t notice he was ignoring you," your co-worker patted your back, trying to comfort you.
"But..."
"But?"
"He didn’t give me cuddles... I miss his cuddles when he’s all tired and sleepy..."
Your quirky friend let out a dramatic sigh, moving closer to you.
"You know what you should do?" she suggested, her eyes sparkling with ideas. "Surprise him tonight."
You looked at her, confused. "With what?"
"You know."
"Huh?"
Your other co-worker facepalmed at her suggestion, while you raised an eyebrow in realization.
"It’s not that easy!"
"What? You said he gives in easily!" Your friend insisted, pushing the idea.
"You really need to stop sharing so much about your boyfriend at work," your laid-back co-worker sighed, shaking his head.
"But he can’t be that down right now! He hates being upset..."
"Okay, I’ve heard enough," your closest co-worker stood up and walked away from the conversation.
Your quirky friend leaned in closer, her expression softening. "Just try to stay calm and talk to him before the day ends," she said sincerely. "I’m sure he’s not mad."
You thought about her words. Even though Jay could get mad at his friends, he had never gotten mad at you, even during playful teasing.
"I hope so..." You rubbed your forehead, trying to ease your stress.
"It’s just not like him to ignore me..." You mumbled, feeling down.
"Oh come on, you sometimes forget to text him back when you’re here," your friend reminded you.
You looked at her, realization hitting you. "Oh my god... I'm a hypocrite, aren’t I?" You sighed, feeling embarrassed, but your quirky friend just laughed.
"Don’t worry," she said, trying to cheer you up. "He still loves you, I’m sure."
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As the long workday finally ended, you packed your things and got ready to head down the elevator. With your phone in hand, you scrolled through your contacts, searching for that one sweet photo of your boyfriend.
I should call him like I usually do, you thought. Maybe he’ll be okay and reply like nothing happened.
With a light tap, you dialed Jay's number, his nickname decorated with two hearts on your screen. You gazed at the cute photo you took of him on one of your dates. His smile was unforgettable.
"Hello?" He answered, his voice warm and familiar.
"Hi, honey..." You said softly.
"Hi? What's up?"
".... I'm sorry." You mentally kicked yourself as you said those words. You were supposed to hold back, but it just slipped out.
"You're cutting in and out..." He tried to speak clearly, but the call was breaking up. All you could hear were garbled sounds like "ksher ksher" and "zzh zzhh."
"Hello? Honey? You’re breaking up—"
"Let me call you later." He hung up before you could check if the problem was on your end. You sighed, watching the call end, the wallpaper of him smiling back at you.
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So you just have this saved pic as your wallpaper, huh? WHIPPED.
All you could think about was how much you loved this man.
As you let out another heavy sigh, you stepped out of the elevator, fixing your hair and scarf as you walked outside.
As you passed through the rotating doors, you noticed a crowd gathering outside your office building. People were piling up, excitement buzzing in the air. You felt the urge to see what was happening.
"They're definitely a band. I saw them on TV."
A band? Right outside your office building was a plaza, a usual spot for performances. But the crowd seemed too big for it to be just any local act.
"Are they famous?"
"Are you kidding? They're Enhypen! They were on that band show..."
You turned sharply to one of the people trying to see what was going on. "Enhypen? They’re here?"
"I think so? It’s just a random plaza, though. Could be cover artists."
"No, it’s them! I saw Jake and Sunghoon there!"
They’re just outside?!
"Hey, you over there!" A familiar voice boomed through the speakers, full of energy. It was a voice you knew well, one that made your heart race.
Slowly, you turned your head as other people stared at you.
"This one's for you."
Park. Jongseong. In the flesh. Pointing his damn finger right through your heart.
He adjusted the microphone on the shaky stand, his charm lighting up the crowd. Even if the equipment wasn’t the best, he looked amazing, holding the mic like it was meant for him. He began to sing your favorite song—a sweet, romantic tune.
Cheers erupted as he finished, applause ringing out from everyone, including your co-workers, who cheered for him and his bandmates.
As snow started to fall gently around you, Jay rushed toward you, concern on his face as he adjusted your scarf.
"You’re shivering," he said, worry in his voice. But all you could do was look at this wonderful man you called yours.
"It’s... fine," you replied, holding his hand. He paused, looking down at your joined hands before meeting your gaze.
In that moment, everything felt perfect as snowflakes floated around you. His eyes sparkled, reflecting the light and warmth of the moment.
You couldn’t hold back any longer.
"I'm sorry!" you both blurted out at the same time, creating a funny mix of apologies.
"Wha-what?"
"I'm sorry, why are you sorry?"
"Wait, I'm sorry. What are you trying to—"
You both laughed, the tension fading away. Jay still looked a bit confused, which only made it more charming.
"I said I'm sorry. I felt like I hurt your feelings when you wanted to watch a movie with me during your free time..." You held his hands tightly, feeling sincere.
Jay tilted his head, a smile spreading across his face. "No way! I totally get it, honey." He pinched your cheek playfully. "It’s not like I’m going far away."
"But you wanted more time with me."
"I know." Jay’s smile was real, a sign of understanding. "I thought you were mad at me for being too needy."
"What?" You exclaimed, your voice rising in surprise.
"Slow down."
"I would never! NEVER!" You declared firmly. "If anything, I want to always be close to you! I like the clingy you!"
Jay couldn’t help but laugh, and you hugged him tightly, feeling the warmth between you. At that moment, he rested his head on your shoulder.
"I was worried for nothing," he whispered softly.
"Hey, that tickles!" You booped his nose playfully. "And same here. I thought you were ignoring me."
Jay looked at you with sincerity. "Sorry. I was just in my own head this morning. I didn’t mean to tune out."
You smiled back, brushing a stray hair from his face. "It’s okay. I understand now."
Taking one last look at him, you wrapped your arms around him again. "Don’t ever feel shy with me! We’ve been a couple for years! Come on!"
Jay chuckled at your words, a mix of affection and disbelief shining in his eyes. He often felt insecure whenever you seemed upset, worrying that he could do better. But in the end, you always calmed him down, reminding him that he was enough and that you accepted him just as he was.
You fixed your clothes, pulling away slightly from Jay’s embrace. "So, are we still going to see the movie?"
Jay’s smile grew wider, his eyes filled with joy. "It’s tonight. We won’t be late if we hurry."
"Yay!" You grabbed his face and kissed him quickly, catching him off guard. He blinked in surprise as you linked your arm through his, walking side by side toward the cinema.
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Meanwhile, in the distance...
"Are you seeing that? He just left us!" Jake shouted, struggling to carry amplifiers toward the van as he watched you walk away with Jay.
"You're just jealous you don’t get to use anyone as an excuse to go out," Sunghoon replied dryly, packing up other gear. He wasn’t wrong, though.
"Shut it, man!" Jake scratched his head, feeling a bit embarrassed by that comment.
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faebled-stories · 2 days ago
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Please Read
Hi lovelies,
I hope you’re all doing well! I wanted to give you a quick little update. So, here’s the tea: I had this whole holiday series planned, I was so excited about it—and I was aiming to release a couple of fics at the start of January.
BUT... this girlie got a little too wild during New Year’s celebrations, and, well... let’s just say I learned the hard way. I ended up spraining my wrist, hitting my head and smashing my phone after falling while (very) drunk…😅 So now, I’m still stuck recovering. (What a great way the start the year huh?)
I’m genuinely so bummed about this because I was really looking forward to bringing these fics to life for you. I had so much fun planning them out. Right now, I’m low-key beating myself up about the delay—it’s frustrating not being able to follow through on something I was so excited to share with you all. 😔
But here’s where you come in: once I’ve recovered, would you still like me to release these fics? Or do you think it’s better to stick a pin in the holiday concepts and move on to new ideas? I value your feedback and want to create content you’ll enjoy, so let me know what you think!
Thank you much for your patience and understanding. You’re honestly the best, and I can’t wait to get back to writing for you all soon!
Sending all my love, Fae 💖
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tiyawnyana · 1 day ago
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So this is a special request sent in by @reader210 , thank you for the request! I loved your idea and want to turn it into a multi-chapter story so this is chapter one!
A/N: I actually had so much fun creating this story because the characterization was a blast
Characters: Mel Medarda x Fem!Doctor!Reader
Warnings: nothing explicit, brief swearing, general confusion
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An Apple a Day
Chapter 1
Synopsis:
Everything was normal- everything was starting to become better, pieces falling into place. You got your new position within the hospital secured, you were thinking about getting a dog, maybe even a cat. Life was beginning to make sense.
Until you end up in an entirely new world, apparently.
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Footsteps echo through the halls, a soft sound in these vacant cells as you munch on the fruit given to you a Iittle while ago.
You huff, annoyed and tired with this insane situation.
You didn't expect this- to be somehow spawned into another world. One minute, you're in your office finishing some paperwork for a patient, the next, you're collapsing in the middle of a huge room, seemingly a meeting of elites to some sort.
You remember the shrieks of surprise, the throbbing in your skull as you weakly pushed yourself up with your palms. Your glasses had flung off in the events, nowhere to be found so now you're stuck with fuzzy vision and locked away while whoever figures out who and what you were.
You lean against the cold wall, huffing softly as you rub your fingers into your temple, feeling another headache brewing.
Footsteps get closer, entering the cell hallway and you sigh, rolling your eyes as they get nearer.
You see the fuzzy outline of someone, squinting to try and make them out but no such luck.
You groan as they stop at your cell and you decide to get up, pacing closer to the bars.
“Well? Figure me out yet?” You sass sarcastically.
“I don't think you're in a position to be sarcastic,” the woman murmurs, and you're almost convinced you hear a smirk in her tone.
“I don't think I'm in a position to do anything, I'm afraid, but here we are,” you smirk, leaning against the bars.
She's silent for a moment, gaze seemingly boring into you and you feel heat creeping up your neck in embarrassment. You avert your gaze, huffing softly.
“The Counsel hasn't figured out the cause of your appearance.. Where are you from? Noxus?”
You raise a brow in confusion and question, turning your gaze back to her,”Where the hell is Noxus? I'm from Chicago-”
“Chicago?” She echoes, bewildered,”I don't recognize your accent-”
“Typical brit, huh?” You try to joke but it falls flat. You swallow, looking away again.
“What is your position? Status?”
“Uh- what?”
“Your title,” she speaks firmly.
You look back at her despite her still blurry form,”Uh.. Doctor?”
“You're a Doctor?” She echoes, seemingly surprised,”In that uniform?”
“What's wrong with my uniform?” You look down at the white doctors coat with your soft navy cardigan underneath.
“I've never seen that kind of uniform on a doctor- seems unfitting-”
“Okay-”
“That- is not the main focus of my visit,” she sighs, before lifting her hand and handing you something.
“What's that-”
“Your glasses.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” you grab them from her hand and quickly put them on, wincing at the slight blur before your vision comes back into focus and redirecting your gaze back to the woman before you.
Jesus- this woman is gorgeous. Unlike anyone you've ever seen- what?
“Uh- wow,” you murmur, eyes wide as you take her in.
“What?” She tilts her head in confusion.
You figure you must be dreaming. Some drug induced coma, for sure.
“You're stunning,” you say smoothly, uncaring for any embarrassment you'd surely feel if this was real life.
Her gaze widens in surprise, before she quickly masks over it.
“The counsel wishes to conduct an interview, an investigation of sorts to understand your appearance,” she speaks smoothly, bringing keys forward before hesitating,”I trust you'll behave?”
You snort, giving her a nod,”Yes, I'll behave. I'm just as curious as you all are.”
She eyes you for a moment before unlocking the cell, sliding the bars open and beckoning you forward.
You step out, stretching your arms above your head before inhaling sharply in surprise when a guard approaches quickly, cuffs on display.
“Those won't be necessary,” the woman speaks firmly, brushing her hand to signal the guard.
You eye her carefully,”Thank you.”
She nods in silence.
“What's your name?”
She rolls her eyes, ushering you to walk out and you huff a soft laugh.
She walks beside you, leading you through halls with the guard following behind. You can't take your eyes off of your surroundings, enthralled with the architecture and some paintings on the walls.
“This is one insane dream,” you murmur to yourself.
“A dream?” The woman echoes, shaking her head,”How interesting.”
You remember these doors, suddenly nervous at the sight of the giant, overly designed wood as you recall being dragged out of the room behind them.
They open, revealing that those same people from before are seated in their same chairs.
You're pushed forward by the guard and you out of reflex turn to smack at his hand but the woman waves the guard off as she beckons you to follow.
“In the center, if you will,” she murmurs, walking away for circle the table back to her own seat.
You listen as requested, hands clasped together at your front as you stand in the center, feeling as if you were under a microscope.
“Uh.. hi,” you wave awkwardly with a sheepish smile.
The doors open again, a higher pitched voice gaining everyone's attention and you turn to look, only for you to find nothing. They're still talking, though, and you follow the sound to the head of the table when a small person? Seats themselves down.
“It's about time we figured out this anomaly!” He grins through quirked ears and a bushy mustache.
Your head tilts, confusion etched into your face.
“Counselor Medarda, have you found out any new information about our guest?”
The woman, you learn now is something Medarda, turns to nod in his direction.
“Our guest is from what you called Chicago? I am unfamiliar with it-” she turns to look at you.
“Yes- Uh, Chicago, Illinois, to be exact.”
“Illinois-?” A man echoes, and you turn before stifling a smirk.
The blonde man was the definition of a twink back home.
You shake your head, refocusing as you face the head counselor,”Yes, in America?”
His ears perk, eyes narrowed as he peers back at you,”We don't know what you're talking about, this America- there's no lands here by that name.”
“What now?”
Counselor Medarda sighs in defeat,”I truly don't believe we'll find anything of ill intent here,” she speaks smoothly,”Counselor Heimerdinger?”
Your head turns to the head counselor- Heimerdinger, as he furrows his thick brows.
“You don't look of Noxus style,” he huffs,”Nor any other land I've ventured through. I'm curious, what was your occupation?”
“Oh- I'm a Doctor, sir,” you respond sheepishly.
“A Doctor! Impressive,” he smiles genuinely and you're surprised to find delight in that,”I think we could find use of you while keeping an eye on your movements.”
“Use of me-?” You echo in confusion.
“Oh, yes! I believe we could very well use your talents,” he looks to the other counselors.
Some honestly look as if they care less, that one twink in particular, but as your gaze flicks back toward him, you catch onto Ms. Medarda.
She's looking at you with a certain look, a glint to her eye, like she found something worth investing in.
Heat creeps up your cheeks and you don't hear anything else, too occupied with the golden freckles dusting her cheeks and her near hypnotizing eyes.
“Then it's settled!”
You whip your head back to Heimerdinger, expecting the worst but he's got a genuine, friendly smile on his face.
“You'll be under surveillance, of course, but we want to understand your form of healing- perhaps it is different in this.. Chicago?”
You nod in understanding, smiling shakily,”Of- of course, uh-”
“Counselor Medarda and Shoola will lead you around, you will have a stationed enforcer keeping an eye on you until we can determine that you are not a threat.”
You nod again, hands tightening at your front out of nerves.
“I expect weekly reports, have them set up the east wing for board and the first floor for an office for her,” he grins back at you,”I do hope to see good things from you.”
He calls the meeting to an end, hopping down from his chair and exiting the room with a few of the counselors following behind you.
Counselor Medardo waves off Shoola, approaching you from behind before stopping.
“Doctor?”
You snap back into focus, turning to look at her.
“Ready to go?” She beckons toward the door.
You take a moment to reply, nodding in confusion.
“What the hell was that?” You manage to say, following her out of the room.
“That was your interview, investigation, call it what you wish,” she waves it off.
You look at her in bewilderment,”Was that counselor made of metal?”
“Counselor Bolbok?” She side eyes you in confusion.
“Sure, whatever-”
“Hold on.. you've been looking confused,” she turns to you, stopping in the hallway.
“No shit, Sherlock, I’m confused-”
“Sherlock?” She questions, face scrunched in confusion.
Your eyes go wide, hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, stressed,“Ok- what is happening.”
She just raises a brow, that confused look still on her face.
“What was that!” You huff,”Counselor Heim..”
“Counselor Heimerdinger,” she finishes.
“Yes- what?” You laugh in surprise,”What.. is he? In the least disrespectful way possible.”
She's quiet for a moment before sighing in defeat,”You really aren't from here.. are you?”
“That's what I've been telling you-” a headache begins to form,”Did I somehow end up in an entirely new universe? Huh?”
She covers her mouth, hiding the small laugh at your expense.
“Heimerdinger is a Yordle,” she murmurs with a grin,”Bolbok is a gaseous being- he controls his metal exterior.”
You look at her as if she'd grown a second head,“What the hell is a yordle?”
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A/N: I just needed an excuse to describe Salo as a twink sorry not sorry
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luxthestrange · 2 days ago
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WHB Incorrect quotes#70 Greatest's Dad in all the realms-
What I truly want to happen...It's a Batlle Royale Between Solomon...Vs Mr.Kim...On the one hand, we got our...Ances-terror who is really into the idea of Mc/You having a Father-Daughter relationship...and then there is Mr.Kim who took care of Mc/You since day one of the orphanage...and totally doesn't already consider Mc his daughter, cuz he ships it M&M(McXMinhyeok)...Wow, Mc you got two dads-
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mc*Is in need of help...from dealing with demons,Angels and needs guidence*...
Solomon:
Haha
Looks like you could use some help From the big king of kings himself Check out daddy's glowing reviews on Yelp~ (Five stars! Flawless! Greater than great!) Oh, with the punch of a pentagram I wap-bam-boom, alakazam Usually, I charge a sacrificial lamb But you get the family rate (thanks dad!)
Mc*Smiles awkwardly and nods*Thanks Solomon!...
Solomon:
Who needs a busboy, now that you've got the chef? (wow) Michelin-tasting menu, free à la carte I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref Champagne fountains, caviar mountains, that's just a start!-
Mr.Kim*Pushes Solomon away and twirls You around in a silly dance*
Who's been here since day one? Who's been faithful as a nun? Who makes you chuckle with an old-timey pun? Your responible guardian?
Mc*Smiles wider and nods*That's true!
Mr.Kim:
I'm your guy, your day-to-day Your chum, your steadfast Guardian Remember when I fixed that clog today?
Ppyong*Sniffles and hugs Mr.Kim*I was stuck, thank you sir!
Mc*Looks at him with chuckle*Oh you!
Mr.Kim:
I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond~
Mc: aww
Mr.Kim:
You're like the daughter that I wish that I had~
Solomon*Looking at the two, sweat dropping*...uh, what?
Mr.Kim*Brings you in for a hug and pats your head fatherly like,smirking at Solomon*
I care for you, just like a daughter I spawned~
Solo:hold on now!
Mr.Kim
It's a little funny, you could almost call me dad!~
The two face one another with different facts they know about you: your first tooth lost,your favorite food, baby pictures. The Demon Kings just stare back and forth to the madness as you stand between the two men.
Mr.Kim
They say, when you're looking for assistance It's smart to pick the path of least resistance
Solomon: Others say, that in your needy hour There's no substitute for pure summoner power! Who just happens to also be your blood!
Mr.Kim Sadly, there are times a birth family member is a dud They say the family you choose is better~
Solo: what a bunch of losers...
Mr.Kim: Can you butt out of my song?
Solo: Your song? I started this!
Mr.Kim: I'm singing it, I'll finish it!
Solo*Veins popping and grabs the man by his collar* Oh, you tacky piece of–
Before the two men can get into a fistfight, the door opens, and...a strange man with a bird mask, top hat, and a cane appears
Crowley:
It's me, yes, it's me I know you were all waiting for me I'm here, what a gas Took a while, but I'm present at last It's me, it's me CROWLEEEEEEEEEEY!
Mr:Kim:....Who?
Crowley*Looks around,back away out the door*...Whoopsie wrong fandom and wrong mc~...pardon me~
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allthingsfangirl101 · 8 hours ago
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*About Damn Time – Jake Seresin
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Warnings: public kink, unprotected, teasing, language
I walked in from training, instantly taking my hair out of my tight updo. I ran my fingers through my hair, well aware of the eyes that followed me through the room. I knew all too well who was watching me. That just made it even more fun.
It was no secret - to anyone - that Jake Seresin had a massive crush on me. I found out after about the third time he scared off the hot guy talking to me at the bar. In fact, no one comes near me because of him. Not that I minded. I only wish he would finally tell me how he felt.
"Lieutenant Y/L/N," Jake nodded as I walked into the auditorium.
"Lieutenant Seresin," I nodded. "You look good."
"We're in the same uniform," he stuttered.
"Relax, Hangman," I said, playfully patting his face. "It's just a compliment. You act as if no one has ever told you how handsome you are."
"You think I'm. . ."
"Don't act like you don't know it," I teased him. To send him over the edge – and to give him a hint– I kissed his cheek before heading over to talk to Phoenix.
"He cannot take his eyes off of you," she laughed as soon as I walked over to her. "That poor boy."
"Hey," I said, putting my hands up in defense. "All I'm doing is flirting and teasing him a bit."
"All you're doing is torturing the man," she said.
"It wouldn't be torture if he did something about his feelings," I shrugged. "It's been 13 months of this. You think he'll finally tell me how he feels about me now that we might be put on different ships?"
"I don't know, sweetie," she shrugged. "I hope he does."
"Me too," I sighed. "Maybe I should just tell him how I feel."
"I thought you said the whole reason you haven't told him is because you wanted to let him be the man and confess his feelings for you."
"I thought so," I mumbled. "But I'm getting tired of waiting for him to finally do something about it."
I walked away, heading to check in. Little did I know that Phoenix was running to the others and coming up with a plan.
* * * * *
After graduation, we all changed out of our uniforms and went to the unofficial party. I ended up showing up a little late and by the time I got there, everything was in full swing.
"There you are, Y/L/N," Jake teased me as I walked in late to one of the other trainee's homes. "I thought you ditched us."
"You know I would never," I smiled as I patted him on the arm as I passed. "I got stuck talking to and taking pictures with my family. They finally went back to the hotel after I promised I'd meet them for breakfast."
"Guess that means you can't get batshit drunk," Payback smirked.
"I never said that," I said, looking over at Jake and sending him a wink. "I'll be right back. I gotta get out of this uniform."
"Aren't you going to help her with that, Hangman?" I heard Coyote taunt Jake as I walked into the bathroom down the hall from the kitchen.
I quickly changed out of my uniform and into the light blue silk floor-length gown. I was about to zip it up when I got an idea. I opened the door, instantly seeing Phoenix.
"Hey, girly," she smiled. "Need help with your dress?"
"I do," I smirked. "Any chance you can push Hangman into the hall?"
She looked into the kitchen and laughed. "Honey, he is hovering around the corner, waiting for you to come out. I'll mention something to him."
"Thank you," I said sing-songy as I closed the door.
I heard as Phoenix mentioned me taking a while getting into my dress. Jake cleared his throat before I could hear footsteps. Just then, I peeked my head out of the bathroom.
"Jake!" I whispered loudly.
"Yeah?" His breath got caught in his throat when he turned around and saw me barely dressed. "What's up?"
"Can you help me zip my dress?"
"Sure," he said, his voice dropping. I carefully held my dress to my chest as I walked out of the bathroom and turned around. "Thank you, Jake," I said, sounding like I was relieved. "I was hiding in the bathroom and thought I heard Phoenix."
I looked over my shoulder to see Jake focused on the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra underneath my dress. "Everything okay, Hangman?"
"Yeah," he said a little too quickly. He slowly reached forward and grabbed my zipper. I hid my smirk when he carefully zipped up my dress.
"All good?" I asked.
"All good," he said, his voice catching in his throat. I turned around and didn't hide my smirk when he checked me out.
"Jake," I said, sounding concerned as I gently reached up and felt his forehead and cheek. "Are you feeling okay? You look kind of flushed."
"I'm fine," he stuttered.
"Let's get you a drink." I grabbed his hand and led him into the kitchen.
"Damn, Y/L/N!" Payback laughed when we walked in.
"Jealous?" I smirked.
"I know someone who might be," Coyote mumbled, hiding behind his beer.
A few minutes later, I noticed Jake off to the side, listening to Fanboy, Phoenix, Bob, and Omaha argue about their fantasy football while I was listening to Rooster and Payback argue about who's got a better time on the track.
"I don't know why you boys are debating this," I scoffed. "Everyone knows that I've held the record for the fastest time since I joined your little training group."
"Y/N, can I borrow you for a minute?" Phoenix asked.
"Sure," I shrugged. "Not like I'm missing anything here."
"You are evil."
"How so?" I laughed. She looked into the living room, toward Jake.
"Do me a favor," Phoenix sighed as she looked back at me. "Please put that poor boy out of his misery and just tell him you feel the same. I can't handle him moping around and watching you from across the room with yearning in his eyes."
"I'm still waiting for him to tell me how he feels," I chuckled, sending her a playful wink.
"Well," she giggled, "let's give him a little push."
She grabbed my hand and pulled me back into the other room. "Whatever happened with that guy from your hometown?" She asked a little too loudly.
"What guy?" Rooster asked, glancing at Hangman whose beer was frozen halfway to his lips.
"No one," I pushed off. "He was an old neighbor, growing up. Apparently, he's here doing his residency and looked me up. He wants to get drinks."
"You gonna go?" Coyote asked, no-so-subtly looking at Hangman.
"Not sure," I shrugged. "He's an old friend, but I haven't seen him in a while. Then again, it's not like there's anyone else with a better offer."
I pretended to see someone trying to get my attention and excused myself. Instead, I hid around the corner and listened to everyone badger poor Jake.
"You good, Hangman?" Rooster laughed.
"Yeah," Payback chuckled. "You look like you're gonna throw up."
"Or kill a man," Coyote mumbled.
"Maybe the guy who's been pestering Y/N to go out with him?" Phoenix teased him.
"You heard her," Rooster smirked. "She'd forget him if she had a better offer. Anyone know of a better offer?"
Part of me did feel bad for teasing him like this. Jake is actually a great guy. He got a bad rap when we first started training. Sure, he's 'Hangman' when we're flying, but he's not actually like that when we're on the ground. He's literally saved me from a drunk creep at the bar on multiple occasions.
I hadn't noticed that they had stopped talking until someone grabbed my wrist and pulled me around the corner. Once they had me against the wall, I saw it was Jake.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I scoffed as I pushed him off of me. "You can't go grabbing people, Seresin."
"I'm sorry," he said, not sounding like himself.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my own tone of voice changing.
"Yeah," he said with a soft smile. "I'm okay. I just needed to talk to you."
"And you thought kidnapping me was the best thing to do?" I taunted him. "There's this thing called a conversation."
My sentence got caught in my throat when he took a step forward, trapping me between him and the wall. I couldn't look away from his eyes as he slowly leaned in. I grabbed his face and closed the gap between us. Our lips instantly started moving roughly in sync as we wrapped our arms around each other.
We both let out moans as he pushed me firmer up against the wall. He broke the kiss and reattached them to my neck. I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes as he explored from my collarbone to my ear.
"Shit, Seresin," I moaned.
"You've been driving me crazy, Y/L/N," he moaned against my skin. I gasped when he roughly kissed me again. This time, I broke the kiss and rubbed my hands up and down his chest.
"Follow me," I whispered. I grabbed his hand and led him down to the basement. The second we got to the bottom of the stairs, Jake turned me around. As soon as I was facing him, he leaned in and kissed me. I instantly wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back.
Without breaking the kiss, Jake picked me up and put me on the counter. He opened my legs and stepped between them. Our lips moved in sync and our tongues danced as we held each other close. I ran my fingers through his hair as he slid his hands up my thighs, bringing my dress with him.
Unable to resist anymore, I roughly pushed him away. I hopped off the counter and landed directly in front of him.
I looked up at him with innocent eyes. "Can you help me with my zipper?"
His pout turned into a smirk when I turned around. He stepped up and dragged his hands up and down my arms. He kissed my neck as he slowly unzipped my dress. I turned around before letting my dress pool at my feet.
"Fuck," Jake moaned. "I knew you were gorgeous under that flight suit."
"You've thought about what I had underneath my flight suit?" I smirked. I reached forward and started unbuttoning his shirt.
"All the time," he moaned as I tore off his shirt.
"Well, good," I said as I grabbed the waistband of his pants and pulled him toward me. "To be honest, I've often thought about what you had underneath your flight suit. Especially when I am alone. . . Late at night. . . Or in the shower."
"Fuck," he moaned again as he crashed his lips onto mine. I wrapped my arms around him as he pulled me into his chest. He backed us up until we collapsed onto the couch. As Jake climbed on top of me. I pulled the waistband of his pants down.
Jake tore his lips away from mine as we finished undressing. His eyes glanced over my bare body before he rolled his body down mine. I arched my back and moaned when his body pressed firmly to mine, smashing all the right parts together.
"Oh Jake," I moaned as he continued to rub his body against mine.
"Fuck, Y/N," he moaned back. "I want you so bad."
"Then take me," I grunted loudly before grabbing his face and bringing his lips down to mine. "Finally take me."
Jake pressed his lips back to mine as we both adjusted. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed my leg and wrapped it around his waist. I arched my back and moaned against his lips as he pushed himself into me.
"Holy shit," he groaned against my lips.
"Oh baby," I moaned as I bit his bottom lip. He chuckled before focusing back on his hip movements. The more he moved his hips, the weaker mine got. I squeezed my eyes shut as the pressure built.
"Fuck," he swore under his breath. I opened my eyes to see him watching me.
"What's wrong, baby?" I purred.
"Nothing," he stuttered through his grunts. "Just watching your face change as I. . . As I make. . . Seeing the effect I have on you."
I arched my back, bringing my face closer to his. "Just you wait, baby. There's a whole lot more we got to do."
"Fuck!"
I gasped when his movements got deeper and sharper. He kissed my neck as I dragged my hands up and down his bare back.
"I have wanted you for so long."
"And I have wanted you," I gasped, Jake's movements cutting me off.
Our lips reattached as our hips continued to dance. We could hear the party going on upstairs, but neither one of us cared. We only focused on each other; our movements, our lips, our feelings.
"Shit!" I moaned as I reached orgasm.
"Shit," Jake echoed me. He gently pulled out of me but remained hovering over me. "Y/N," he whispered, "there's something I've been dying to say to you since we first met."
"And what's that?" I asked as I snaked my arms around his neck.
"I'm crazy into you," he said, pressing his forehead to mine. "The thought of not being with you literally drove me mad. Now, the idea of someone else getting to have you makes me ready to get kicked out of the Navy."
"Don't do that," I pouted. "Then I'll be all alone."
"I will never let that happen," he whispered.
* * * * *
After going another round, we quickly got dressed and tried to make ourselves look like we didn't just hook up. With matching smirks on our faces, we headed back upstairs.
"And where were you two?" Payback smirked as he folded his arms and studied us.
"Downstairs," Jake smirked, "in the basement."
He grabbed my hand and led me into the kitchen. I winked at Payback and the others.
"Finally," Phoenix chuckled. Rooster laughed as he agreed.
"About time they hooked up."
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click4rainy · 2 days ago
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Now, kiss my hand.
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👽:Beep Boop, I’m in love with a MONSTER (girl) I really want her to hold me and kiss me and pet me and love me and tell me I’m her’s…໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ (kinda proof read? I tried)
🖇️:Empress Mileena x Reader fic
⚠️:Fluffy, Light romantic tension, you’re a simp.
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★ “Focus.” Raiden’s voice snapped you from your train of thought, but not before Mileena gracefully ducks under your half assed punch, sweeping your legs out from beneath you. The world flipped, and before you knew it, you were flat on your back, staring at the sky.
★ Mileena stood over you, holding one sai loosely in her hand while twirling away the other, sheathing it at her hip before she reached out to offer assistance. Her expression was poised, as always, but her lips curved into something akin to a smirk.
★ “You were distracted,” she spoke, her voice holding a teasing lilt as she tilted her head towards you.
★ “No, I was—okay, yeah, maybe a little off par with my focus…” you admitted with a sheepish grin. Grasping her hand, the first thing you note is how sweaty yours is and you immediately feel self conscious—especially when her brow lifts.
★ “Mmh, Clammy palms…?” She inquires, obviously noticing your flustered demeanor, her voice a velvet smooth purr.
★ Coughing, you pull your hand away like you had been burned. “No idea what you’re talking about…” you lamely say, fooling nobody, least of all Raiden, who crossed his arms with a faint sigh.
★ Who could blame you though? The woman radiated elegance and power in a way that left you completely unprepared. She’s literally the Empress. And you? A new Earthrealm recruit still figuring out how to hold your own in sparring matches.
★ Somewhere along the line, you had developed a bit of a crush—okay, a big crush—and now every single interaction with her felt like walking a tightrope over a huge pit of embarrassing mistakes.
•••
★ The first time you’d caught Mileena’s attention, it had been during a grand diplomatic gathering of some sort. Liu Kang was invited, and by extension the other Earthrealm defenders, including you. She entered the hall in her full imperial regalia, her gold and violet attire shimmering beneath the lighting, causing you to nearly walk into a pillar at the sight.
★ Johnny noticed immediately, cocking a brow with a devious smirk. “Smooth, champ. I mean, real subtle,” he snickered.
★ Ever since then, you had found yourself in an endless loop of trying too hard.
★Compliment her? Stuttering and stumbling over your words. Offering a spar? You suddenly have two left feet and trip during the match. Apologizing about eight times too many. You wanna try and impress her during a mission? Yeah sure, it kinda works…until you end up stuck in a mud pit as she offers you help with an amused look to her eyes.
★ At this point, you weren’t even sure why you kept trying, except…when Mileena smiled at you, it made the whole day brighter.
•••
★ “You’re quite persistent.” Mileena remarked that afternoon as the two of you walked through the palace gardens.
★ You felt the chill of the gentle breeze against your cheeks, brow slightly furrowed. “Persistent?”
★ “With how often you challenge me to spar…you must know by now that i’ll win.”
★ You scratched the back of your neck, “Yeah, well…its not really about winning for me.”
★Mileena paused, turning slightly to face you. Her eyes softened, an almost golden hue catching in the afternoon light. “If its not about winning, then what is it about?”
★ You hesitated, wondering if this was the moment you’d make a fool of yourself again. “Maybe…maybe spending time with you is my main goal…”
★ Her expression flickered briefly—surprise, perhaps? But instead of scoffing or brushing it off, Mileena let herself smile genuinely for a second.
★ “You do realize I’m the Empress, don’t you?” She asked with light skepticism, taking a step closer to you.
★ “Oh—I more than realize that. And that’s my problem,” you replied with a small, almost deprecating laugh. Unable to mask your infatuation with her.
★ She laughed softly, the sound rare but melodic nonetheless. “Mmh, Earthrealm isn’t accustomed to subtlety, is it?” She lightly teased.
★ You simply looked away, your expression bashful. “We’re not too good at practicing it, I suppose.”
•••
★ Later that evening, as the gathering drew to a close, you found yourself standing near the palace gazebo. You weren’t sure why you lingered. Maybe in hopes for a little more time to simply bask in her presence.
★ To your pleasant surprise, Mileena approached, her steps quiet but deliberate. “Still here?” She asked, resting her hands lightly on the railing beside you.
★ “Couldn’t leave without saying goodnight to my favorite Empress.” You said, mustering the courage to be bold first once.
★ Mileena’s gaze slid toward you, amusement glinting in her eyes. “Favorite? Aren’t I your only Empress?”
★ “It doesn’t make it less true.” You double down, your tone almost earnest.
★ There was a pause, filled by the hum of Out Worlds night. And then, quite unexpectedly, Mileena extended her hand towards you, her palm facing down as she poised her fingers. Presenting her bedazzled knuckles to you.
★ Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. “Uhm…?”
★ “Kiss it,” She instructed lightly, tilting her hand towards you once more.
★ Staring at her with wide eyes, you weren’t entirely positive if you misheard her or not. “Pardon?” You softly asked, too afraid to ask if she meant what she said.
★ Her eyes narrowed playfully. “You know, I expect a proper goodbye from my favorite Earthrealmer. Now, kiss my hand.” She reiterated, smiling fondly at you.
★ Your head tilted forward just barely, registering her seriousness and quickly taking her hand, you swallow your heart down, trying not to think about how warm her skin felt against your fingertips. With reverence, you bring her hand up to your lips, pressing the lightest kiss to her knuckles. You were practically glowing after, your hand lingering in hers, not wanting to let go.
★ Mileena’s gaze was fixed on you. Unreadable but not unkind. “You’re endearing,” she murmured, brushing her thumb against your knuckles before pulling away.
★ “Well, I most certainly will keep looking forward to our meetings…and our sparring matches.” She adds almost casually, “Keep up that charming persistence of yours. Perhaps you’ll get the better of me, might I say even the best….” The words felt like a hidden invitation wrapped up as a challenge.
★ With that, you walked backward with a dumb smile plastered on your face. Not wanting to look away from her as did so, you clumsily tripped over your own feet and barely caught yourself before finally turning to hide your embarrassment. Making way back to where the portal and the others had been very patiently waiting for you.
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👽: She’s perfect. She’s everything i want. Everything i need. LOOK AT HER—I WOULD KILL FOR HER, I WOULD DIE FOR HERRRR *flips table*
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inanimateimprov · 3 days ago
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Hiii, this is a little random but you mentioned having a Taco playlist & I’m really really curious now- like what songs did you pick for her- ??? :0
Also your fanart might take a while lol because sixth form ( so basically kinda like the end of high school but in the UK ) is starting up soon & it takes a long time for me to draw a lot of stuff.
But I’ll make sure to post it asap when it’s finished- or if you want you can have a screenshot I took when I was drawing- it’s not in the final product but it funny nonetheless ^ ^”
SOMEONE ASKED ABOUT MY TACO PLAYLISTS *explodes*
Hehehe….here they are!!! I hope you enjoy them. And I also rambled a lot about why I chose which songs for Taco under the cut, so…enjoy those :3 (-Rosin)
Season 1 (silly) Taco playlist
Season 2 (serious) Taco playlist
S1
Raining Tacos is pretty self explanatory I feel LOL
CHIPI CHIPI CHAPA CHAPA DUBI DUBI DABA DABA- it’s dancey, it’s groovy, it’s random!! It’s so very her
Pretty Rave Girl….nightcore classic
Carmelldansen is a song that to me at least sounds very random yet upbeat and happy, which I think suits her
Bad Boy: OH MY GOD THE IDEAS I HAVE WITH THIS SONG…..but particularly the lyrics “be my weekend lover / but don’t be my friend” and “but I don’t need you in my life again / no I don’t need you again” called out to me. Not only is Bad Boy a nightcore classic, but it also, to me really fits Taco’s lashing out (and subsequent falling out) with Pickle in the finale. Lowkey might make an animation meme to that song w them LOL
Dam Dadi Doo, another nightcore classic, also seems like something she’d just randomly say in the middle of the day
Don’t Trust Me: nightcore classic, and honestly I think the iconic line “tell your boyfriend if he says he’s got beef / that I’m a vegetarian and I ain’t fuckin scared of him” is very funny in the context of Taco LOL
S2
I’m Gonna Win: I HAVE AN ANIMATIC TO THST SONG STUCK IN MY HEAD AND IT WILL NEVER GET OUTTTTTTTTTT (also just listen to that banger. It may not be a tango but it’s so Taco)
Unsweetened Lemonade uses lemons as a metaphor for an ‘unpalatable’ personality, which I think fits Taco pretty well. Also the speaker’s driving force is her goals (“it’s easier to focus on the prize above my head” and “I’d do anything for twenty bucks”) which I think aligns really well with Taco’s worldview and ambitions. At least, mid-S2
Candle Queen is more of a between-S1-and-S2 Taco song. Describing her fall from grace in a bouncy swing tune I think she would fancy.
Tango: Maureen is ABOUT Taco, sung by Pickle and Microphone!!!!!!! Hiraeth showed me that song and he changed my LIIIIIFFEEE
I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME I found from an animatic on YouTube and it fit her so well I had to add it to the playlist
Missing You is so good….and it’s a song I hear with Taco thinking about Mic and Pickle a lot
Again is a bit angstier than I would like for Taco, but it has some key themes of her character (tbh I might take it off….)
A Wistful Waltz is SUUUUUCH a tacomic song. Idc what anyone says!!!!
Okay rant over I promise I only like Taco a normal amount………
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sillyfunnyverycute · 7 months ago
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bowow I can draw oh em gee
regretevator x webkinz crossover art that I did during class (idk if that even looks like smth from Webkinz but whatever)
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froggtogs · 1 year ago
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gone fishing
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empyreansentinel · 5 months ago
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wip wip wip
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sysig · 1 month ago
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Guess who :3c (Patreon)
#My art#Webkinz#Diamond#Ukadevlog#Ghostkinz#Ta-dah! My November behind-the-scenes project was this! The poll was for this reason! Though I already knew I'd start with her haha#Have a little preview to start us off - I have Lots of thoughts to each part of development I ended up in but I want to roll them out slowly#Not everything all at once anyway haha - thoughts get all jumbled now that I'm on this side of things pft#I wasn't able to finish A Version I'd be willing to publish in just a month - even then I only worked on Ghostkinz about 3 days a week so#But for the time I spent I'm quite pleased with how its shaped up so far! :D I got to implement a lot!#Actually learning-then-implementing-then-learning-then-implementing - it's a loop I've been out of for such a long time now :0#Really interesting to fall back into after so long away haha#A lot of my other projects have been Pick Up One Thing and then do that forever and I was tired-tired of that!!#So going into this project knowing that I'd only have November to Get Guud at as much of it as possible and then that was it#I think it helped propel me - didn't end with me getting stuck on Perfecting Just This One Thing#I'd read a bit and then go utilize it and then come back and read some more of Zarla's template/walkthrough - compelling system!#I still couldn't manage to actually finish in a month but I got up to Phase 4!! Previous attempts at Ghost-making has gotten stalled at 1!!#Maaaybe 2 but never anything beyond that - and while I didn't actually Finish any Phase apart from 1 I still read through much much more!#On top of the learning aspect being fun ♪ getting to understand some of the more technical side ahh - it was also just fun to read haha#Like a course that can be silly hehe ♫ Enjoyable even outside of getting to make a little guy for my screen haha#But also yes that too!! I'm really glad I finally settled on an idea that I feel confident in seeing through#The best part about reaching for the Webkinz style is that Webkinz uses vectors - I've gone on record multiple times as loving vectors#They're an exceptionally easy medium to manipulate and that was The Thing that had been holding me back from committing to Ghosts prior#Drawing every single thing when I already struggle to plug in my tablet...no...... But Vectors#You can see here that Diamond's expressions are just a matter of tilting her head and moving her tail - so so soooo simple with vectors#Being able to super-quickly put out a lot of different expressions and animations and piecemeal everything together...yes..........#And for what further I have in mind :3c It's really all I could ask for in an art style to seek ah ♪ Just right for my purposes!#I thought it'd be nice to show off Diamond-for-real as her plush next to her digital version as well :D She's still the only OG8 I have#I want more!! I'd love to have a code for her as well haha - secretly just started this so I can have a digital Diamond lol#Plush-Diamond actually wears a necklace these days but I opted to leave it off her for the photoshoot - maybe once I figure out clothes haha
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inkandpaintleopard · 9 months ago
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Oh yeah and I’ve been thinking about B3 all day for some reason (despite having Blam from Arrow Funk in my head NONSTOP-) so I drew these
Pictures taken in the sun, which is why they look like they have the light of every god shining on them instead of my usual Twilight-Blue
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I mean they look kinda normal actually
You just had to be there I guess
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I like to headcanon Melo as being one of those kids who just invents little stories all the time (but with him you can kinda tell it’s some sort of trauma response)
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deepseawave · 6 months ago
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obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog
Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️
Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D
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#guys help is it time for a rebranding?? am I just gonna post about f1 now??#I still can’t believe this has all started because bestie and I were watching Ted Lasso (because I’ve been obsessed with that show for a#while now too) and I paused the episode to talk about how I really like the way Jamie interacts with kids (I’m sorry people being good with#and nice to kids is one of my weaknesses I work with kids now and have been invested in treating kids well forever)#so me saying that apparently reminded her of max and she showed me a video of him with p and yeah it was very effective in making me like#him and then we left the episode on pause and she told me a lot about f1 and max specifically cause I was interested now lmao (funny thing#is that she also got roped into it by our other friends I swear it’s speeding lmao#she also compared him to Jamie from Ted lasso (if you know you know) and showed me some heart wrenching Taylor swift edits (i haven’t#emotionally recovered yet) and yeah that’s how I started consuming way too much f1 content on YouTube and got into this whole mess lmao#oh yeah our friends also made me and another friend make a Tier list for all the drivers based on vibes alone (cause I only knew a bit about#max at that time and the other one knew nothing really) which was very funny too#especially looking back at it (we did some of them so dirty lmao 😂)#I’ve also come to the conclusion that tumblr is still one of the least annoying platforms to engage with other people (still)#YouTube is full of hate comments about drivers and stuff it’s so annoying actually#not to mention Twitter but I don’t go there and probably never will 😂#I personally don’t enjoy fics and scenarios and shipping of real people cause it makes me a bit uncomfy (not judging people who do#you do you as long as it doesn’t negatively affect anyone#but yeah I’d much rather just scroll by those here than have to look away from all the mindless hate and which driver is better discussions#everywhere else like I’m not one to engage with stuff like that but it does upset me to some#degree so yeah tumblr making memes and being rather positive about their drivers (most of what I’ve seen here of course there are gonna be#annoying people everywhere) is much more tolerable and a lot more enjoyable for me#whoops this post got away from me again oh dear#I’ve had the idea for a meme stuck in my head for days now: Max verstappen but make it if you don’t love me at my *swearing on team radio#giving spicy replies and attitude to the media maxplaining and complaining going for risky overtakes* you don’t deserve me at my *precious#interactions with p talking about his cats being a goofball with other drivers and especially danny defending other drivers driving#beautifully in the rain* it’s a package deal you can’t just pick and choose and personally I don’t even get why people complain about some#of the other stuff I appreciate someone who’s passionate and honest and genuinely kind where it matters 🤷🏻‍♀️#I think I’ve seen someone else say that but the more people complain about and criticize max the more I feel the need to defend him#god forbid women have hobbies for real (can’t believe I’ve yapped so much I can’t put more tags 💀)#also shoutout to Oscar Piastri and Danny Ric (I was so happy Oscar won even tho McLaren where being very silly in a not so funny way)
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ssruis · 7 months ago
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Going through a straight up comical amount of irritating situations to get the stupid 4* guaranteed ticket from the welcome to sekai campaign. It Will Be Mine.
#I’m resuming this tomorrow it’s been hours now I’m just mad#I’m home because my parents are moving to a different state and I needed to pack whatever was left#and for some reason we just keep old devices when we’re done with them#so I borrow an adapter to allow me to connect my ancient unworking iPad mini to my laptop#factory reset it. i have to reset an old email to access the old Apple id to fully reset it.#it won’t connect to the wifi so I have to reset the settings. i find out it’s too old to run pjsk.#i find an old phone that should work. i reset it as well. I’m able to download pjsk & it takes 20 minutes.#pjsk crashes everytime I try to open it. i attempt to run bluestacks on my computer. bluestacks doesn’t have 64 bit for mac yet.#i get a free trial of parallels and download windows onto my laptop. this takes 40 minutes.#i try to download and run bluestacks on that. m1 macs apparently can’t run bluestacks 64 bit through parallels.#i go find the final old phone that I had forgotten about. it takes forever to charge because the charging port is fucked up. i reset it as#well. it can’t connect to wifi. i try a hotspot on my current phone. service is too awful. i try to do wifi sharing from my laptop.#you have to be connected to the router via a cable for that to work.#at this point it has been like 3 hours. I’m giving up because I’ve been down this route before#when I attempted to run 32 bit steam games on m1 mac#(wine64 doesn’t exist for m1 macs yet -> attempt to run boot camp -> boot camp isn’t a thing anymore on Apple silicon -> attempt to run#several different programs that allow me to run windows on a mac. none of them work. ->#look into linux & give up. -> attempt to implement the unfinished/unbottled wine64 code thru terminal. ->#fuck up and delete some important file & have to fix that (misery inducing) -> keep trying. i think I downloaded a Mac coding program at#some point? i realize I have zero coding knowledge and this is a mistake. -> give up and purchase crossover. game doesn’t even work. ->#3 months later update to the latest OS so I can have enough storage to play psychonauts 2. find out the $60 crossover#purchase was a bad idea because ‘heehee crossover doesn’t work on that buy the new version’ (fuck crossover).#my toxic trait is my belief that I can figure out anything via google and sheer stubbornness. usually this is true. occasionally there are#exceptions to this rule. most of them are because owning Apple products is a mistake.#i think if I reset the router tomorrow I can solve this problem but I can also just go elsewhere with better service or wait until I’m home#now it’s a matter of pride. and also free 4*/I have nothing better to do because I’m stuck here until Tuesday.#<- this is all normal behavior by the way. who doesn’t spend 8 hours ramming their head against a problem every once and a while. enrichment#mine#oh I forgot. i also looked into cloning the app but that would cost money for something that might not even work.#‘just log out and make an alt’ and risk losing my account? I’m stupid enough to overwrite it on accident.
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