#Send me prompts if you'd like

[ghostofcarcosa]

Prompt: When ectoplasm is used to power one of the Fenton’s devices, it can borrow ghost zone physics.

“Wow, so how’s this one supposed to work?” Bruce Wayne picked up the small silver device, examining it. It was about the size of a hockey puck, with a handle welded to the top that looked like it had originally belonged to a dresser. The handle was wrapped in simple black electrical tape with a small button on the side.

“Oh! That table of stuff is not for sale,” the red-head walked briskly over, wringing her hands, “those are just some of my brother’s projects, they’re not related to ghost hunting.”

The convention had, up until that point, been boring. Tim had disappeared about an hour ago, meeting up with a couple of friends who were also attending the Scientific, Paranormal, & Occult, Occupational Convention, or “SPOOC.” An attempt at a play on words, Bruce supposed.

Barbara had alerted him that an up-and-coming company, Axiom Laboratories, had announced some pretty cutting edge tech that could be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands. Bruce had attended the demo this morning, only to leave unimpressed. Only one of their four inventions had actually worked, and even then barely did what was advertised.

Aside from waiting for Tim to be done hanging out with his friends, Bruce had surprisingly found several start-ups that were developing some promising technology, as far as ghost-hunting equipment could be considered “promising.” The latest booth he was exploring had been pointed out to him as having “some kind of crazy idea they’ve perfected renewable energy,” which while Bruce was wary of most of the people peddling wares here, peaked his interest. So far, however, it had been a disappointment.

The girl held out her hand for the device and Bruce gave it back. “Do you know what it does?”

The girl gave him a guarded look, and he held up his hands and grinned. “Just curious!”

She glanced around the booth, the only other occupants were a couple dressed like they were late for a shift at the nuclear power plant, gas masks and all. The husband, an absolute mountain of a man, seemed to be knitting while his wife flipped through a paranormal magazine. She turned back to Bruce, sticking out her hand.

“Jazz Fenton; my parents own Fentonworks.”

“Nice to meet you Jazz. I’m Bruce Wayne.”

Her eyes widened, and she blinked owlishly at him. “Oh! Like, Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne?”

He went for a disarming grin. “The one and only, hopefully?”

She let out a laugh that was probably more nervous than it was meant to be, and glanced over at the couple again. “Just to warn you, if my parents spot you, you’ll be stuck her for the rest of the day while my dad rants about ghosts.”

“Noted. So if that’s not a ghost hunting device, what is it?”

Jazz fidgeted with the silver hockey puck, plucking at the edge with her fingernail. A hatch popped open, revealing a small switch. She flicked it and popped the hatch closed.

“It’s a prototype gravity binder. Uses gravitational force to stick itself to the ground. I think.” She held it out over the floor in front of Bruce, and he took a step back. Jazz carefully checked the ground below before hitting the button and dropping it.

It hit the ground at Bruce’s feet and he looked at her, unimpressed. Jazz grinned. “Pick it up.”

Bruce quirked an eyebrow, but bent down to the small device. An audible humming was coming from it, and it almost felt like it was vibrating slightly as Bruce gripped the handle.

“Be careful not to push the button again. That turns it off,” Jazz said.

Bruce reached down and grabbed the black handle.

It didn’t budge.

Bruce frowned, gripping it with both hands and pulling. It was as if the small device had been bonded to the floor. He looked back up at Jazz, who had a wry grin on her face. 

“Now, hit the button.” 

Bruce did so, and the humming immediately stopped, the device powering down. He hesitantly picked it up from the floor, unable to stop the surprise that bloomed across his face as it now only weighed a few ounces, like before. The floor where it had fallen was undamaged and unmarked.

Bruce handed the device back to Jazz, “Alright, color me impressed. How does it work? I’m pretty sure this thing breaks several laws of physics.” 

Jazz simply shrugged, placing it back on the side table with several other devices that Bruce couldn’t begin to guess the purpose of. “My brother is more into the engineering and sciencey part of the family business. You’ll have to ask him once he gets back. That is, if he didn’t ditch me to explore the city.” The last part was grumbled under her breath.

Bruce looked back at the device. Had Bruce seen some crazy stuff in his time in the Justice League? Absolutely. He had three different friends who used magic on a daily basis. But no other League independent company had anything close to this kind of tech, let alone a family business that specialized in ghost hunting, of all things.

“I think I’d like to meet your brother. I’m going to be honest, this is unbelievably impressive. Has he ever thought about applying for the engineering and development internship at Wayne Enterprises?”

A contemplative look passed over Jazz’s face. “Honestly, Mr. Wayne? My brother Danny is smart, and a talented inventor. But I’m not sure that kind of thing would be his style. I’ve been pushing him to start thinking about college now that he’s graduating soon, but he seems pretty convinced he’s going to be stuck in Amity Park working for my parents for the rest of his life. Not that he doesn’t care about the family business, but...” She trailed off, glancing back over at her parents. Some poor soul had wandered a little too close to the front of the booth, and Bruce could hear the couple yapping non-stop about ghosts. “He does need to spend some time away from it.”

“What are you proposing?”

Jazz drummed her fingers against the table. “I’m in my second year at Gotham U. Danny’s going to be eighteen next year, but refuses to apply to any colleges because of his grades. He... well, let’s just say there were some extenuating circumstances that caused it.” She shook her head, “He’ll probably end up at community college living at home, at least if I can convince him to stay in school. He won’t be able to get into GU with his grades, but if you’re really interested in his work...”

“You think I could get him an acceptance letter?”

“God no!” she blanched, “But I could probably get him to apply with a letter of recommendation from the owner of Wayne Enterprises. He’s smart, and a quick learner for sure, but after... the stuff in high school, he’s convinced himself his life is already over.”

“Hmm,” He’d have to do a little research on the brother, make sure her ‘extenuating circumstances’ checked out, but Bruce started to wonder if this was his lucky day. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll be back at the convention tomorrow, and I’ll drop by the booth around 10am. If your brother can give me a better demo than any other scientist here, I’ll write the letter.” He smiled, handing her one of his business cards, “and I promise that will be a low bar to pass.”

“Thank you, thank you so much Mr. Wayne!” Jazz grinned, taking the card and shaking his hand. “Danny will be here.”

...

“Hey Bruce!” Tim finally caught up with him outside the convention center. “So, what did you think of ‘SPOOC’? Bust any ghosts?”

Bruce smiled at him, shaking his head, “No, but I think I just found an intern for Lucius Fox.”

[necrotic-nephilim]

For the new ask game

"If I have to force you I will"

Brudick

send a ship and a quote and i'll write a a short fic!

this is so inspired, anon. here's 2.7k of BruDick whump. warning for non-con somnophilia, but it's very brief. the whole fic is very non-con/dead dove in nature tho. this takes place during Jason's Robin era. enjoy <3

Dick could feel Bruce’s eyes on him from across the room, even without looking. He made a point not to look. Instead, Dick focused on helping Jason set his dislocated shoulder.

“How does that feel?” Dick asked. He pressed his fingers against the bone, just to double check for any breaks.

“I’m fine,” Jason insisted. He hopped off the medical gurney and pulled away from Dick’s touch. An immediate wince came out of Jason when his feet hit the ground. His ankle was at best, swollen. At worst, sprained.

With how hard Killer Croc threw Jason into that brick wall, he was lucky to walk away with a dislocated shoulder and sprained ankle. Dick still couldn’t get the noise of Jason’s small body slamming against the hard brick and the noise he’d made when he fell to the ground.

“You should take a couple weeks off patrol at least,” Dick said, putting away the leftover bandages. “To let it heal.”

Jason made a face at Dick, his mouth screwing up like he’d eaten something sour. “I said I was fine!” He didn't look fine. He was pale and a little sweaty from the pain. “Right, B?” Going right above Dick's head, Jason turned to Bruce with an expectant look.

Dick finally let himself look at Bruce. He levelled Bruce with a deadly glare. Now though, Bruce was the one avoiding his gaze.

“We’ll talk about it later, chum.” Bruce walked over to them and ruffled Jason’s head with disgusting affection that made Dick’s lip curl.

He had nothing against Jason. But he damn well knew Bruce was doing it to get a rise out of Dick. The worst part, it was working remarkably well.

“Get to bed now,” Bruce said, patting Jason’s good shoulder.

Jason gave a nod that was a little too serious, like he was facing a war general giving an order. Given who he was talking to, Dick supposed it wasn't far off. Jason ran off to the stairs, almost managing to hide his limp. Dick watched him disappear up the steps.

He was a good kid.

Too good for this life.

“That could've gotten him killed.” Dick didn't look in Bruce’s direction, but there was no one else in the cave he could've been talking to. No one else on the planet Dick would speak to with such an icy tone.

“You would've stuck that landing at his age,” Bruce said coolly, pointedly avoiding the hostility bleeding from Dick.

Dick whipped his head around. “I had more training at his age.” So many insults sat on Dick’s tongue. He managed to swallow all of them without choking. “Take better care of Jason.” With that, Dick turned on his heel and walked toward where his motorcycle was parked in the bay of the cave.

“Where are you going?” Bruce asked. Like he had any right to know.

“Home,” Dick snapped. He wanted his bed and shitty take out from the only place in Bludhaven open this late.

“This is your home.”

Dick’s hand curled into a fist, itching to hit Bruce. He wouldn't stoop that low. “Not since you kicked me out, it isn't.”

“You still have a place here.” Bruce’s voice was as even and emotionless as it always was. He could've been talking about the weather.

Emotions were weakness to Bruce. And there was a time Dick naively believed Bruce trusted him enough to share that weakness with Dick.

What a joke that was.

“No, I don't,” Dick spoke through grit teeth. He just needed to keep walking to his bike and leave Bruce and his rotting city behind.

“Then why are you even here?”

Dick spun around fast enough to make his hair fall over his face. He really should cut it, but he liked the length. Bruce had always made him keep it short. For practicality. Now, letting it grow just past his shoulders, Dick’s hair was one of the few pieces of self expression he had.

“Because I made a promise to Jason,” Dick’s words dripped with all the anger he could muster, looking into Bruce’s cold blue eyes. “I would be there if he called. Unlike you, I keep promises.” It was a cold insult that hit below the belt.

“You think I couldn't have handled Croc?” Bruce arched an eyebrow. He was trying to back Dick into a corner and Dick knew it. Drag some kind of confession out of Dick that he'd come to see Bruce for some hopeless romantic reason.

Bruce could keep hoping. Dick was there for Jason and nothing more.

“Clearly you couldn't,” Dick pointed out. “Jason got hurt.”

For the briefest second, real emotion flashed across Bruce's eyes. It was something, at least. A small proof he really did care about Jason.

“He just wanted to see you.” Bruce regained his composure. “He looks up to you. He's been talking about training with you.”

Dick shook his head with a cold laugh. “I’m not falling for that. If he wants to train, he can come to me. Don't use him to get to me.” He gave Bruce a final warning look before turning back around.

“Stay.”

“No.” Dick didn't look back. His bike was within arm’s reach when a hand grabbed his arm.

“Dick,” Bruce was trying to sound soft. The command in his voice ruined the illusion of kindness.

“Don’t.” No matter how much Dick knew Bruce’s kindness was a ruse, he couldn't stop himself from mirroring it. The anger left his tone and was replaced by something softer. “It’s late and I have a shift tomorrow.”

“Call in,” Bruce said. Easy for him to say with his billionaire pockets.

Dick shook his head. He tried to pull his arm free. “This isn't happening again. It's especially not happening now.” Jason’s face flashed across Dick’s mind. In Dick’s Robin suit.

That betrayal was still a raw wound.

“Dick, I…” Bruce trailed off. “I'm sorry for how I- for how things happened.” Just as he almost took accountability, he skirted past it. A vague, half-assed apology that wasn't going to fix anything now.

“You should've said that and a hell of a lot more over a year ago,” Dick just shook his head. He tugged his arm harder. Bruce’s grip was a vice.

“Please stay.” Despite the words, it sounded like an order, not a request. Bruce’s brow hardened.

“Bruce,” Dick said, setting his jaw. “Let go.”

Bruce raised a hand and for a second, Dick almost flinched, expecting to be hit. Instead, Bruce's fingers hovered in the air before cupping Dick’s face. He was still wearing his suit, but Dick could feel the gentle body heat through the glove. He gasped.

A thumb stroked Dick’s cheek. And for a part of him, it was hard not to give in to. There was comfort in the familiarity. How easily Bruce slotted back into a role he used to perfectly fill in Dick’s life.

Dick didn't need Bruce in that role, though. And he definitely didn't want him there.

“Just the night,” Bruce offered, still stroking with his thumb. “I’ll order from the Chinese place you like.”

“I said no.” Dick took a half a step back.

The gentle, loving hand holding Dick’s face shifted to a brutally possessive grip without warning. Bruce held Dick by his jaw, fingers digging in enough to make Dick hiss.

“If I have to force, you I will.” It was dangerous, how matter-of-factly Bruce said it. No violence or threatening nature to the statement. Just a plain coldness.

Dick flinched. His full body recoiled.

“Are you out of your mind?” Dick hissed.

Bruce has been rough with Dick, before. But only when Dick asked for it.

Never like this.

The only thing Bruce had ever forced Dick to do was leave. At the time, it had been the worst thing Bruce ever did to Dick.

This was worse, now.

“You can't force me to do anything,” Dick said when Bruce didn't answer. He just started at Dick with those empty eyes. “I’m not under your thumb anymore.”

“I want to know you're safe,” Bruce spoke so calmly, like he wasn't trying to force Dick to stay against his will. Like he was practically doing Dick a favor. “Someone needs to look out for you and make sure you're taking care of yourself.”

“I have people,” Dick said, and it wasn't a lie. He had the Titans, his friends and coworkers in Bludhaven. “I don't need you. I never did, Bruce. You never understood that.” Dick’s heart was beating too fast in his chest. Bruce had to be bluffing. Trying to fake Dick out or something.

The grip on his jaw was going to bruise if Bruce kept it up.

“I need you, though,” Bruce’s voice was low and quiet. “That's what I was wrong about when I kicked you out. I thought…” he didn't finish the sentence. He just shook his head once. “I didn't know how much I needed you. And I need you now, Dick.”

Dick leaned in close to Bruce’s face. “I don't care what you need.” He pulled back and twisted his head away to wrench it from Bruce’s grip. A single well aimed strike to Bruce’s inner wrist forced his hand to open, letting go of Dick’s arm.

For a second, Dick was free.

It was a short second.

Dick didn't have time to step back. He didn't have time to think before Bruce lunged.

It was a brutal and effective pin. One that Dick had always struggled to get out of during training. Bruce grabbed Dick’s wrist and twisted him around, forcing him to his knees. Bruce’s own knee pinned Dick down, pressed between his shoulder blades while Dick’s arm was held at a painful angle.

He had one arm free. But it was difficult to grab Bruce from where he was standing. The shock of being pinned in the first place slowed his reaction.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Dick gasped. He reached back to grab an escrima stick. If Bruce wanted a fight, Dick would give him one.

His hand was stopped before he could reach the weapon. Bruce just grabbed that wrist too and hauled Dick back up to his feet like he weighed nothing. He pinned Dick against his own body, Dick’s arm painfully trapped between the two of them.

“I’m giving you one last chance,” Bruce said into Dick’s ear. His breath was warm on Dick’s skin in a sickly way. “Stay with me for the night.”

Instead of answering with words, Dick lifted his foot and kicked Bruce as hard as he could in the shin. Bruce stumbled and Dick dropped into a crouch, ready to flip Bruce off of him.

Before he could, something sharp pinched against his neck and Dick gasped.

The psychotic bastard.

His body slumped, weightless in Bruce’s arms that shifted to cradle Dick. Gently, like a lover.

Then, Dick slipped away.

Once he was drugged, it was easy to pull compliance out of Dick.

Bruce just had to carry him up the stairs and into Bruce’s bedroom. He carefully stripped both of their suits, laying them out for Alfred to wash in the morning.

Dick wasn't quite unconscious.

But he was groaning and sluggish, unable to hold his eyes open or form real words. When Bruce touched him, his body yielded and gave in so sweetly.

The way he was supposed to give in to Bruce.

Dick wouldn't remember any of it when it woke up. But his body would.

His body, warm and beautiful under Bruce’s hands. There were new scars Bruce didn't know about. He made sure to show attention to every one with gentle kisses and colorful hickeys.

But he felt the same when Bruce was buried inside of his right warmth.

Even in a drugged state, Dick reacted beautifully. Soft moans and twitches as Bruce fucked him. Slow and gentle. It was so easy to manipulate Dick’s body into the right positions. He was just as flexible as he’d always been.

Bruce liked the long hair, he decided, when he buried his fingers into it to pull Dick into an embrace while Dick whimpered.

Beautiful. Perfect.

With a hand curled around Dick’s cock, they both came as Bruce groaned Dick’s name into his sweet skin.

Bruce licked Dick’s cum off his sweaty skin. Glassy eyes watched him, struggling to say something. It almost sounded like Bruce’s name.

After finishing, Bruce cleaned both of them up and climbed into bed, arranging Dick in his arms the way they used to cuddle in bed. He closed his eyes.

Dick was home now. Where he belonged. Bruce was stupid for ever sending him away. But he was home. That was what mattered.

They would figure out the rest later.

Dick came back to awareness in a warm bed with a sore body. The sheets and pillows were familiar. They smelled familiar. His body ached in familiar places too.

Before Dick even opened his eyes, he knew where he was.

He sat up. His body was still slow and stiff. Whatever Bruce had drugged him with was a hell of a thing.

Bruce drugged him. And fucked him.

Too many feelings flickered through Dick at once for him to parse out. Anger. Confusion. Shock.

Betrayal.

Dick tuned them out. He needed to take stock. Stay focused. At least until he was out of Bruce’s home.

The sunlight filtering through the windows marked the time as late morning. Bruce’s side of the bed was empty, but Dick could hear the shower running from the ensuite bathroom.

His suit was nowhere to be found. Which left Dick stuck in Bruce’s bed, naked and vulnerable.

He tried to keep his heartrate steady. The sheets got bunched up in Dick’s first.

The moment Bruce came out of the shower Dick was going to break his goddamn-

“Bruce!” The bedroom door flew open and Jason skidded into the room. “Bruce, Alfred wants to know where he should put-” Jason froze like a deer in headlights when he saw Dick. For a moment he just stared, wide eyed and open mouthed.

Dick look down at himself and swore. He snatched the blanket that was pooled around his waist, pulling it up tight to his chest. It was too late. They both knew Jason had already seen all the bite marks scattered across Dick’s skin.

“I-” Jason stumbled over his words. “I’m sorry, I didn't know-”

Like some kind of divine timing, the bathroom door opened. Bruce stepped out in nothing but loose boxers, drying his hair. He saw Dick, then Jason. His expression changed for both of them, settling on a coy smile.

“We’ve talked about knocking, Jason,�� Bruce said calmly.

Jason’s face was so red it looked like it was about to catch on fire. “Sorry.”

“Head down to the kitchen for breakfast,” Bruce just gave him a fond look. “Dick and I will join you in a few minutes.”

“You’re staying for breakfast?” Jason’s eyes lit up looking at Dick.

Dick couldn't openly scowl at Bruce with Jason’s eyes on him. But he knew what Bruce was doing. And he had no choice, backed into a corner like this.

“Yeah.” Dick forced a smile. “Just for a little while.”

Jason whooped with excitement and ran out of the room as quickly as he’d came into it.

Dick whipped his head around and leveled Bruce with a deadly look.

“After breakfast,” Bruce said, before Dick can speak. “We’ll discuss this then.”

“You had no goddamn right-”

Bruce cut him off with a chaste kiss. Dick choked against Bruce’s mouth. All of his protests forced away. Dick’s heart was pounding. Too many emotions at once.

He swallowed his pride and kissed Bruce back.

[skeletalheartattack]

hi I like gelato a lot

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

Hello! I Have an Ask Game for you all!

Since it is October, spooky month is upon us. Which also means that I will be having a nice bit of free time after this week is over (exams 😔)

Please send things into my inbox for me to doodle!!

Feel free to send: Prompts/AUs/Characters - or all three!

I will also be spinning my AU wheel and Prompt wheel to post doodles as regularly as i can manage throughout October! Similarly to how I did last time!!!

[dragon-wisteria]

OC Interview: Introductions

Pick an oc and share their answers to the following questions, or let your followers pick a combination of character(s) and number(s)!

(if you decide to answer all the questions for one oc feel free to copy the questions into your own post and simply link back to this post so others can use the prompts!)

1. Describe your character's appearance. What do people notice first about them? Are there any aspects of their appearance that they hide from others?

2. Describe your character's personality. What are people's first impressions of them? Are there parts of their personality that they keep hidden? How hard is it for others to get to know them?

3. What is your character's occupation? (job/school/duties/etc.) Do they enjoy it? What would be their ideal occupation?

4. What does your character do for fun? Do they have any hobbies or special interests? Are there any activities they'd like to try but don't have enough time/resources for?

5. Where does your character live? Do they like it there? How do they furnish/decorate their personal space?

6. What is your character's family situation like? Which family members (if any) are they closest to, and which ones do they have conflict with?

7. Who are the most important people in your character's life? Do they have any close friends? Are they in love with anyone? Do they have any enemies?

8. What are your character's best skills and virtues? Did these come naturally to them, or did they have to work hard to achieve them?

9. What are your character's worst flaws and weak points? Are they working to overcome their flaws, or do they let them fester? Is there anyone they rely on for help with their weak points?

10. What are your character's goals? Do they set long term goals for themself or do they prefer to live in the moment?

[monsieur-kazzle-dazzle]

First kiss or ember Island for the prompts

“Momo, don’t eat that!” Katara scolded the lemur as he attempted to eat what appeared to be some sort of crab. The crab snapped at Momo as he stuck out an experimental paw, making all his fur stick up like he’d been electrocuted. Momo hissed at the crab, before flying up to land on Katara’s shoulder. “I did warn you,” she said, laughing gently as he squawked and soared off in the direction of the house, probably to go complain to Appa.

Katara took in a deep breath, taking in the salty air, and feeling the push and pull of the waves around her. A flash of light drew her attention to the training grounds, where Zuko, very shirtless, was ducking, twirling and weaving in the familiar motions of the Dancing Dragon. Not wanting to disturb him, she perched herself on the far wall, admiring his form. He had always been a powerful bender, she recalled, but after he had figured out how to communicate with the dragons, he had reached a whole new level. It had made him both an incredible warrior, and an amazing teacher. She had been zoning out, staring shamelessly as he commanded the fire that she didn’t notice him watching her. She met his eyes, blushing slightly. He raised a teasing eyebrow.

“Enjoying the view?” he called, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively. She smirked, shrugging her shoulders noncommittally, flushing slightly at the way his gaze roamed over her. His dark eyes met hers, and she could see the excitement. “C’mon, I wanna show you something.” He said, flashing her the crooked, toothy grin that she had become so fond of over the past few weeks. The one he saved just for her. She couldn’t help but return it as he slipped on his vest. He reached up to grab her hands, tugging her down from the wall. 

“Where are we going?” Katara asked as she slipped her hand into his. 

“You’ll see.” Zuko smiled, squeezing her hand. “It’s one of my favourite places on the island.” They hiked in silence for a couple minutes, before arriving at a small, seemingly untouched stretch of beach. 

“OH!” Katara gasped, looking out, taking in what had to be one of the most beautiful sunsets she’d ever seen. The sky was a perfect ombre of vivid pinks, oranges and yellows, reflecting into the waves, where the sun was just moments away from slipping below the horizon. “Zuko, it’s beautiful.” she smiled up at him. He grinned awkwardly. 

“Just like you.” he said, flushing a little bit. She chuckled, reaching up to place a hand on his cheek. 

“You’re so cute when you get all red.” She laughed, dropping her hand from his cheek to lean against his shoulder. 

“Wanna sit?” he asked, gesturing to a large driftwood trunk. She nodded, taking a seat. He wrapped his arm around her as she nestled her head into the crook of his neck. Zuko shifted slightly, rubbing her arm with his thumb. “My mother used to take me here when I was a kid. Before… you know. It was our special place. We would escape my father, Azula, and all the duties and expectations that came with being a part of the royal family for a couple of hours and just be ourselves. She taught me to swim here, and how to skip rocks. We’d make sand castles and she’d always find pretty shells or sea glass to decorate them with.” He said, gazing out across the sand wistfully.

“Thank you for sharing your special place with me.” Katara whispered, turning to face him. “I know she means a lot to you, and I can tell this place does too.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself before turning to meet her eyes fully. 

“You mean a lot to me too, Katara.” he breathed, smiling gently as he reached up to brush a stray curl out of her face. She leaned into his touch, bringing her hand up to rest on his jaw, fingers brushing over his scar. They were closer now than they’d ever been before. She tilted her chin up, leaving him time to pull away. He didn’t, and instead closed the distance between them, finally connecting their lips. After just a moment, they drew apart, gazing at each other with adoration in their eyes. They’d been dancing around this moment for ages now. Katara could feel Zuko’s hand on her lower back, pulling her closer. She smiled as their lips reconnected, this time with more urgency. She let out a low sigh as his teeth grazed her lip, and she wiggled closer and closer to him until she was practically on his lap.After a few minutes, they broke apart, resting their foreheads together. Katara laughed.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” Zuko smiled, stealing another kiss. “Longer than I’d care to admit. Katara laughed, reaching up to smooth his hair. 

“Me too. It really made it hard to despise you when you kept giving me those puppy dog eyes.” he chuckled. 

“What, these ones?” he asked, working hard to hide his smile. Katara grinned, kissing his pouting lips and leaning her head against his shoulder. They lapsed into comfortable silence, watching as the waves lapped at the shore, faintly reflecting the pale afterglow.

“I hope I can meet your mother someday.” Katara whispered. “And properly meet your uncle. They seem like wonderful people.”

“I know they’d love you.” He said, squeezing her shoulders and pressing a kiss on the top of her head. “Someday. Once this is all over, and I’ve apologized to my uncle, I’m going to find her. She can finally live the life she deserves. We all can.” Katara squeezed the hand resting on her arm.

“I’m really glad you found your way to us Zuko.” she said, meeting his gaze so earnestly he flushed. 

“Me too,” he whispered back, resting his head on top of hers. “Me too.”

[chiropteracupola]

new art prompt game — give me a character (one of my own or from an existing thing) and I will do at least 6.2 seconds of research in order to draw them as they might look in a different era?

[nagweon]

ㅤi'd like to get some interactions going here, so!! like this post for a little something (and please, if you don't mind, comment with which boy you'd prefer. i'd appreciate that help a lot)!!

[virtualbeetle]

Hello there! I saw your pen sketch post, and I do love low-effort $5 crazy sketches. Are you still offering them?

Yep! I'm about to head for bed for the night but feel free to go ahead and send details for me to do them tomorrow :>

[lucky-dyse]

send a five-word prompt for a five-paragraph fic

"your hugs are the best"

[Choosing Alan because he has the power of Dad on his side]

Alan was visiting the Grid again. He found himself doing so more often when he had the spare time. How could he not? He had quite the family growing here, and it would be rude to keep them waiting.

Clu was working on something new, with the encouragement of Tron to do so. There were rumors of ISOs beginning to form again in the sea. True or not, no one wanted any ISO to feel unwelcome on the Grid after what the Occupation had done.

Tron was on his way to the sea, leaving Clu alone - Hal had gone with Tron to be an ambassador, which left Alan wondering why. Clu loved the ISOs, loved Radia, so why did he avoid them..?

Alan's question was answered when he carefully approached the Administrator. Clu hadn't noticed him yet, but Alan had noticed the tears streaming down his cheeks. The User, careful not to startle the program, pulled Clu into a gentle hug.

"Alan, I-" Clu started, trying to excuse his tears and put on the brave face that had been tortured into him by his previous User. It broke easily when Alan shushed him softly, like soothing a child. Alan's arms were strong enough to be protective, but not restrictive. Tron's hugs were good but.. Alan's had a sort of feeling that Tron couldn't replicate, and that was the care of a good User.

Despite being the same height, Alan rested his chin on top of Clu's head, letting the Admin tuck himself safely away where he could cry without anyone else seeing.

"I'm so scared, User." Clu admitted, and at first Alan thought the slip-up was related to trauma. But this felt different.. Clu actually connected the word to kindness - Alan nearly cried himself.

"What if another Occupation starts? What if I'm not strong enough to protect them? What if-"

"Clu, listen to me." Alan cut Clu off, pulling away enough just to look Clu in the eye.

"The last User here didn't care about the Grid, but I do. The Occupation was allowed to form because of him, not you or anyone else. I'm not saying me being here magically fixes everything, it would be selfish to do so.. what I'm saying is, things are different now. Much, much different. Flynn is gone, Tron is alive, and you have a User - multiple Users, if you count Sam - here to help make sure it stays that way."

"But-"

"No buts, you're married to the hero of the Grid. Your sons are fantastic warriors, your brother is a good User, and the Grid is healing. It's going to be just fine, I promise."

Clu couldn't argue that, as much as his fear wanted him to. He hesitantly nestled back into the warmth of the hug, sniffling lightly.

It was quiet now, but not awkward or strange. It was a comfortable silence, one that felt safe and secure.

"...your hugs are the best." Clu mumbled quietly, breaking the silence for a moment. Alan did, too, because he let out a surprised laugh.

"Yeah..?" Alan smiled, patting Clu's back gently.

"Yours are, too."

[feraltwinkseb]

u’re literally the only one trying to keep martian alive thank u for ur service 🙏

The only way this ship is dying is if I die first. ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

[brutalmasks]

Blood-related prompts:

“  there’s something fascinating about blood.  it’s captivating. ”

people often say that green is supposed to be the color of life. but bunny mask had reason to disagree with that notion, personally. red was the one thing that connected all forms of it... wasn't it? it was the color of new beginnings, of violent ends. and most perpetually, the color of blood. it also was one of the things that connected bunny mask herself to humanity, interestingly enough. she looked down at the site in which the other (whom was a doctor, she learned as recent as today) pricked her then.

it really was interesting yet unfair how, despite there being eight main blood types and thus, humans having to 'match' theirs when getting a blood transfusion — bunny masks' couldn't even be identified among the eight. i mean, much less be given to the person she saved. it made her feel somewhat like she failed the woman; but seeing as she was created this way, was this really her fault? bunny mask flexed her clawed fingers momentarily while she pondered how to respond to miriel. in the end, a nod is what she decided to start with to let the doctor know she heard her.

then came those strangely expressive, glowing white eyes darting over to miriel. bunny thought about everything she touched upon regarding the blood transfusion and tilted her head afterward, ❝ you know, with the complexities you described regarding the antigens in blood, i am inclined to agree. plus... the fact that you can freeze blood without it completely breaking down is extraordinary. i had no idea what you were pulling out for the woman i saved. the intravenous bag just looked like it only had a bunch of tiny, red dots until you thawed it out. ❞

bunny mask sounded genuinely mystified by this concept. she never could've suspected doing that was possible. for, not even tyler, a doctor whom she knew intimately had mentioned doing such a thing to her. but then again, that isn't exactly the type of thing to come up in casual conversation. bunny cleared her throat and looked off to the woman she saved once more then.

❝ do you believe that she will make a full recovery? because i do feel terrible that i was not able to help her sooner, but by the time i got to the alleyway... serena (the woman's name) was unfortunately already hurt. so i just really need to know that she will be alright. ❞

[muntitled]

Protecting His Investment

Pairings: The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one gets to hurt you except him.

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Language, Implied Violence, Age gap, God Complex, Brainwashing, Psychopathy, Murder, Blood, Gore, Codependency, Yandere!Salesman, Stalking, Smut (+18) mdni, Voyeurism, Blood Kink, Sadomasocism, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Choking, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Blood Play, fingering, Massive Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Sadism, Punishments, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Squirting, Overstimulation

A/n: I'm not responsible for the media you consume.

This can be read as a continuation of this fic but not strictly

“Shouldn't I be blindfolded?"

If it weren't for the silence simmering between you both, in this monotonous taxi drive, he might’ve not heard you at all and perhaps you should have been more careful with your choice of wording but you were feeling a tiny bit reckless this Wednesday afternoon. He hadn't ever offered to personally fetch you from campus, and you felt incredibly juvenile when you spotted him standing there like a dad, in his grown-up suit while his briefcase hung in his hands in front of him. You'd almost convinced yourself that you were imagining things. That somehow your obsession with the man who kidnaps you every Wednesday to fulfill all his messed up fantasies was truly taking a toll on your mental health.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he was real. And he had come to pick you up and you were feeling awfully giddy as he ushered you both into a taxi while a few of your peers stood and stared.

By now he would've blindfolded you. Keeping you completely clueless to the location he brings you to every Wednesday. See, your Salesman had myriad deep rooted issues. Mania. Sociopathy. Sadism. But the issue that irked you the very most was his inability to trust. Before you know it, you're pouting up a storm as you ask him. "Why aren't we using the blindfold today?"

He slowly removes his gaze from the window, where he had been pondering like the old man he is. He quirks up an eyebrow, letting the intensity of his attention wash completely over you.

"Would you like to be blindfolded?" He asks playfully. His eyes are sparkling with amusement and his lips are quirked up like it usually is when he's being sardonic. Still, you remain cautious as you lean forward. You send one quick glance to the taxi driver, wondering if you were being led in some kind of hearse on the road to your death.

"A-Are you going to kill me?" For the first time, cold, white fear ices the warm blood rushing through your veins. Come to think of it, he did seem far chirpier than usual. Perhaps that should have been your first warning. The flags were blood red but you were wearing rose-tinted glasses.

He only snickers before placing a heavy hand on your head, patting it down.

He doesn't answer you for the duration of the taxi drive, causing you to slip more and more into your thoughts of morbidity and despair. Why else wouldn't he blindfold you if not to end your life once you got there? It seemed dreadfully logical and so on-brand for him. He'd get bored of you sooner or later and then he'd dispose of you. There'd be no need to blindfold you any longer while he took you to his place because you'd soon become a corpse and-

"Doll." The voice cuts through the chatter filling your brain. All at once, the car has stopped, and warm air rushes into the interior as he holds the door open for you. "Get out of the nice man's car." He jests politely, quickly prompting you to unbuckle your seatbelt and scramble out of the taxi.

The second you're out he walks ahead of you. The building that comes into focus before you have your brows crinkling.

You quickly catch up to him, gazing up at his monotonous face. "Why are we here? You never come to my house."

He doesn't respond as you both walk into the foyer. He walks briskly and powerfully, like a man on the move while you send a small wave to the security manning the front desk. You both enter an empty elevator and he presses a button without you ever having to tell him which floor.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

He lowers his gaze to you, one eyebrow quirked up.

"You only die when you disappoint me and as of late," he stares directly ahead, "You haven't disappointed me."

The elevator dings and he steps out. You follow him like a puppy without a leash. "In fact I'd say your work ethic as of late has been-" he blows out a long sigh as he makes it your apartment door- recalling all the weeks you two have spent together in vivid kaleidoscopic images. All the pain you let him inflict on you and pleasure he'd offer as a reward.

"-nothing short of stellar. I'm proud of you." He punches in the code to your apartment and you both enter. The curtains are drawn shut because your roommate hates sunlight. You preferred it but there was no communicating with something like her.

He kicks off his shoes at the door.

"What are we doing here?" You ask nervously, "My roommate will be back soon and she isn't very nice."

"We won't be playing at my place today." He says finally meeting your wild and nervous eyes. He seems so lax and so in control. "We'll be playing here."

"B-But my roommate."

"Is that why you were crying?" His gaze keeps you rooted to the floors, unable to move even if you wanted to, "Because of your roommate?"

"Crying? I wasn't crying-"

"Back at the university," he says, casually removing a microscopic piece of lint from his grey blazer, "Your head was beant and you looked up at me with bloodshot eyes." His eyes shine with amusement as he says, "Usually with our sessions, the crying only comes later on." Then he quirks his head and asks, "What happened?" There's a bang somewhere in the apartment and your head snaps forward. Your eyes scan over the adjoining living room and kitchen but he seems unfazed.

"It's stupid-" you shake your head, "Like who even still gets bullied in uni?"

You laugh pitifully, leaning against the nearest wall. He stands tall before you. A brick wall.

"Your roommate's threatening to kick you out of this apartment to move her boyfriend in?" He asks before adding, "Again."

Your head snaps up to him, "H-How-"

In that moment, he turns rather robotically, making his way deeper into your home. It's clean. Thank God.

"You don't realize how chatty you get when you're about to orgasm." He says before stopping right outside your closed bedroom door.

"My roommate- she... decided last night that- well- she would really like her boyfriend to live here instead-"

"Without consulting you first?" He clarifies, staring blankly ahead at the door, listening very attentively.

"Y-Yes without consulting me." You bring your hand to the doorknob, on your way to open it but he stops you with an iron grip around your wrist. You wince.

“Continue talking.” He says and you do.

"This morning they both kinda sprung on me that they'd like to be living here now. She went behind my back and already placed the deposit down our landlord, well," you clear your throat. "I might be homeless soon." You laugh but then swallow very thickly as the gravity of the situation falls onto your shoulders.

"And still you decided to have our sessions today?"

"If you'll have me," you nod.

"Remarkable." He replies. "Well I've never been very fond of my things or my toys getting dirty." He begins mysteriously as he places his hand directly over yours on the doorknob.

"Pardon?"

"I can't have my favorite toy living out on the street. Who knows what kind of animals would try to rape you or drug you or fucking stick their slimey dicks inside you-" he turns the doorknob, clicking your room open.

You're not even sure when this started happening. These 'private sessions' with your Salesman that quickly bled into something much more concerning. Before you knew it, he was seeping into your brain, polluting you with obsession. There had never ever been anyone else involved.

"What the hell did you do?" You ask, slowly entering your room to find two chairs placed directly in front of your bed. As soon as you enter, you hear the blood curdling, muffled screams being ripped from the throat of the two people strapped to those chairs.

"I'm protecting my investment," Says your Salesman as he pushes the door closed behind you.

Your feet feel like lead as you watch them and their panic-stricken eyes. There in front of you, they sit opposite one another, both with a haggard countenance and tears streaming down their cheeks.

At the sight of you, your roommate screams something horrid but it's muffled by the gag placed in her mouth, a gag the shape of a dog bone.

He's there too. The boyfriend. He's not as loud or as frantic as she is but he's significantly startled. His eyes are wild and vacant. The same gag.

"Oh my god-" you begin but he cuts in front of you, making his way to the couple seated across from each other.

"We're all gonna play a game- a quick one," He says, "Can't play for too long because I've been dying to get inside you since I saw those pretty little bloodshot eyes."

"Sir- I"

If you knew his name you might've screamed it in this moment. 'Sir' is your only point of reference to address the manic man in front of you.

This isn't right.

Right?

You're so confused, you barely register than you've thought out loud. It hits you as he slowly shrugs his blazer off.

"What isn't right is them thinking they can rape this apartment from underneath you." He says, folding it and placing it meticulously over your desk.

"I- have neighbors!?" You begin but he has a plan for that too.

"I had your room soundproofed since our first session." You're pushed into even more confusion.

"WHAT!? When did you even-"

"While you were at school-" he says before uncovering a handgun from his briefcase. A handgun and a silencer.

"Point is, Doll, I'm going to need you to play a game for me, ok?"

"DOLL!?" Comes your roommates' mortified and muffled cries.

"I need you to make one tiny decision for me." He says, screwing on the silencer onto the barrel of the revolver. It strikes you then that even when the mask is off, and the worst workings of his personality are on display for all to gaze upon, you still find him breathtakingly attractive.

"If-" tears burn the back of your throat, "If this room is soundproof why-why do you need a silencer?"

"I'm nothing if not a cautious man, you know this." Then his expression turns very grave and very dark as he says. "Don't you?"

“Yes, Sir,” you reply almost automatically. Like your need to respond to him- to please him, greatly overpowered your moral compass. “You're extremely cautious.”

Your roommate releases a shrill noise from the very back of her throat, her eyes pleading with the humanity she desperately tries to find in yours.

“Out of these two, he's my least favourite,” Your Salesman says, standing beside you. Eyes wild as he points his gun to the boyfriend's head.

“But this isn't about me,” he turns to face you, slowly dragging you gaze away from the victims that had once been your tormentors. You look up at him with a broken sob slipping through your lips. “I need you to choose.”

There it is.

His words seem to detonate what little fate you had in his humanity. There is nothing in his eyes except hedonism and violence.

"I'm going to have you to choose very quickly, baby-”

You're already shaking your head as frazzled braids tickle your shoulders. Your eyes find theirs and you immediately say, “I'm not going to do it.”

When you look at him again, you're almost horrified to find the smile that had once been on his face, completely wiped away. His face is a shadow and it strikes you way more than anything ever has. Something in you scolds you. It gnaws at you to make things right.

“Don't do that.” He says darkly. “Don't disappoint me.”

His hands -one still holding a gun- moves to cup both your cheeks. He cranes your neck further back, gazing deeply. “I can't have you living on the street.”

“You don't have to kill anyone-”

His jaw ticks, “Pick.”

“Sir…”

“You're disappointing me.”

All it takes is those three words to have your world crashing to the floor. Tears blur your vision as you raise a trembling finger.

“Him. I pick him.”

It's the first time you realized that you were brimming with codependency

Or stupidity.

Or maybe both

“That's a good girl.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The father you never had.

He lets his eyes meet that of the boyfriend who is shaking and writhing in seat.

“What a good fucking girl I have, wouldn't you agree?” He asks the boyfriend yet he only cries and cries and cries. Meanwhile, you're bathing in the warm, milky words of praise.

"I suppose you wouldn't be able to agree to much in a second-"

He raises the gun.

Wait-" but the trigger is already pulled, and the bullet slices through the air and the deed is done.

It's remarkable how fast it travels. The speed of the bullet. Like it's competing with light itself. One moment his head is there and his brain is inside it, functioning like usual and the next moment, it's splattered all across my bedroom wall, coating your stuffed animals and drenching your pink bedding.

“You killed someone…”

“We killed someone, and you did such a good job. Now we're real rich people-”

You shake your head.

“Oh my fucking god we killed someone-”

It's stupid, but the first thought that comes to mind is-

“How- How am I gonna get the stain out!?”

“I'll get you new sheets, Doll, I promise…”

Meanwhile the roommate is crying and screaming her throat hoarse. You watch gravely as vomit soaks her gag.

“That's fucking disgusting.” He says before turning back to you. A spray of blood scatters across the side of his handsome face. He'd just committed murder and yet you still describe him as handsome.

“You're not disgusting at all.” He says, “You're so clean and beautiful.” His large hands rub over your face. “And now this apartment's yours. Ours. Maybe.”

Ours.

That word somehow affects you more than the murder you'd just lay witness to. It has you staring up at him with grateful, love-filled eyes. You're still scared but, you were his. And that was a powerful feeling. You'd never belonged to anyone before. Certainly not any man as handsome or smart as this. This isn't rose-tinted glasses anymore, it's rose-tinted vision.

“We killed someone.” You say. Solidifying the fact that you were a couple.

Your heart rages in its cage when his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

“Fuck yes we did,” he moans before smashing his lips down onto yours. Confusion and discomfort wage a terrific and bloody war inside you as he kisses you absolutely dizzy. Your insides are swirling and your stomach is turning at the sight of the blood drenching your walls.

he tips your head up, forcing his tongue in and he moans when you let him. Your tongues touch and coax and he pulls you in close.

“You know how good you looked when I picked you up earlier, Doll? I loved seeing those bloodshot eyes of yours.” He mumbles, “I just hated not being the one to make you cry.”

You sob something awful. The sound escapes you while your lips are still plastered to his.

“But this is all me,” he says proudly, gazing down at your watery eyes as he pins you up against the wall. “This is all me.”

Your roommate sits in a daze. Over his wide shoulder, her eyes stare blankly into yours and you almost find yourself mouthing the words 'I'm sorry'.

Almost. But you never do.

Your brain is too clouded by feelings of fear, regret, pleasure and… satisfaction. In your defense her boyfriend really fucking sucked.

"Take this off." He groans, lowering his large build to the floor to shove your shorts and underwear down. Undressing you almost formally as he lifts your one leg out followed by the other.

Your eyes are still on her.

Every vile word she's said to you. Every occasion she'd bring her equally cruel friends over and they'd gossip about you loud enough for their words to carry through the walls.

You realize very gravely that your care is waning.

That humanity that was still left inside you is thinning.

And he's pressing wet kisses against your legs, worshipping the soft cellulite at your thighs.

A man in a suit at his knees for you and she's forced to watch.

It makes you feel so-

"Fucking beautiful, fuck." He groans.

The more riled up he is, the less care he gives to how crass his language becomes. As if trapped in a daze, with your eyes still on your tormentor -your bully- you hook your fingers into his hair. Parting your legs you lead his mouth to your exposed cunt and he slurps you up for all your worth.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he eats you out with vigor. He flattens his tongue and suctions his mouth against your clit, causing a deep and guttural moan to spill from your lips.

He pulls back, breathing raggedly, "Fuck my face," he commands, before placing both hands on your ass, enough to have your cunt riding his open mouth. It feels so fucking good your eyes are stinging with tears. You let them fall because you'd know he'd appreciate it. He appreciates every tear in your confidence. Every waver in your air-tight judgement. It undoes him completely to see you so fucking pathetic.

He looks up at you while you're riding him. Those morally black eyes are urging you to hump his face and you do.

At the sight of your tears falling his nails dig into your ass and you moan more. All the sounds you're able to make are in intelligible sounds of pleasure. But you force yourself to come to your senses. Just long enough to whisper

"Th-Thank you, Sir,"

He stills. Completely stunned.

You come. It crashes down on you all while your roommate tries to squeeze her crying eyes shut, shaking her head as if trying to delude herself into believing none of this is real.

"You are fucking fire, you know that?" He croaks, slowly rising. You're breathing oh so quickly and it only speeds up at the sight of your arousal casting his jaw.

“I wanna fucking hurt you so bad. I wanna eat you. I wanna fuck you. I wanna do so many unspeakable things to you- you're so perfect.”

He throws one more gaze over his shoulder. His almond eyes scan over the body, then the girl and he groans, furiously undoing his belt.

"How the fuck did I get so lucky?” he says, almost to himself.

"Answer me." He presses his body firmly against yours, until your spine is straight against the wall. "Fucking answer me when I talk to you."

He growls before bringing a hand up to your chin. It's painful the way he grabs you, but you're so used to pain. It lives here now. Between you both.

"I-I- don't know-" you really don't know and he melts at that.

"I'll tell you how, Princess. " he wraps your leg around his waist, "People like me- people we call crazy and evil-” His eyes are so wide, his smile too. -we get nice things. And people like that-" he quirks his head backwards, “The weak? Those people on the streets, they die.” He says, grinding his cock agaisnt your cunt, “And we don't die, yeah?"

"Oh fuck." You're seeing stars when his cock sinks into your cunt. It's hard and raging and he's already doing multiple shallow thrusts to force it deeper. "S-So big-" you can't talk, you hardly ever can when he's like this. Fucking you into an absolute frenzy.

"You gonna squirt for me, Doll?” he grits his teeth, hips stuttering as he ravages you against the wall. "F-Fuck." Some

“She's a really good squirter-” he turns his head to watch your roommate over his shoulder. Her head is slumped forward, she's fainted perhaps.

After weeks of trying to impress him, to show him that you were not the weak little thing he had first kidnapped- you realize it's paid off. He caveman grunts as he fucks you deeper and harder and a cry rips itself from your throat.

“Y-You want me?” You ask with trembling lips.

“Baby,” he breathes directly into your mouth. “I need you.”

"F-Fuck-" your orgasm sneaks up on you and he watches with immense gratification as you come undone on his cock.

“You're making a mess on my cock-” clear liquid streams out of hou, threatinging tk lush his cock out but he fucks you through it.

“Gonna fucking cum inside you, baby. You're gonna take it, aren't you? My good girl's gonna fucking take it,” he throws his head back as his eyes flutter closed and soon he's fucking spurts of warm cum into you.

It fills you completely until the mess is coating your thighs. Through your wave of endless euphoria you see stars, the planets and him in the very centre of it all, guiding you and coaxing you through the bountiful high.

Even when he's done, his cock is still nestled deep inside you, pushing you over the brink of stimulation.

"You're very promising.” He admits, “Always have been.”

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

[schattenwerfenkeineschatten]

send me a song that reminds you of my muse(s) 🎺

[orchideae]

Tag drop (1/2): General.

[skzdust]

Can I Touch?

SMUT. MINORS DNI.

Merry Christmas, everyone. This is my smutty present to all of you and to Bee especially lol.

This fic was a request from @kpop---scenarios (here) and a part of my 500 followers celebration!! Big thanks for requesting bestie and I hope you love it <3 The prompt was #23, caught in the act, with Lee Know, NSFW!

Summary: Minho is horny at a party, and now it's your problem... and, when you sneak into Hyunjin's room, it becomes his problem, too.

Pairing: Lee Know x Hyunjin x fem!reader

Includes: fucking at a party, an unexpected visitor, nipple play, unprotected sex, kissing

Word count: 1.3k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst, @atzlordz, @jeonginsleftcheek

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

Minho leaned in by your ear. “C’mon, baby, just come with me for a second?”

You laughed softly. “Everyone’s here, Minho, they’ll notice if we’re gone.”

“No, they won’t.” His breath tickled your ear. “No one will know. It’ll just be you and me.”

You swallowed. You couldn’t deny that it sounded appealing. Minho had spent the whole evening working you up— his hands grazing your thigh, or lingering a bit too long on your waist. His eyes roaming your chest, your whole body. You wanted him, and it was clear he wanted you. “Minho… I don’t know.”

“But I need you, baby.” He murmured. “Need you bad.”

You sucked a breath in through your teeth. “You need me so bad you can’t wait till we get home?”

“Exactly.” He nipped at your earlobe, and you were glad the girl you’d been talking to had wandered off a minute ago, leaving no one to pay attention to Minho’s blatant attempts to turn you on.

“Okay.” You whispered. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but… yes.”

“Sounds good.” He pressed a kiss to your neck. “Let’s go find a bedroom.”

Your stomach leapt as Minho led you by the hand up the stairs. “Min, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Yeah… I know which one is Hyunjin’s. He won’t care.”

You laughed. “You mean he won’t care if we fuck on his bed?”

“Exactly.” Minho smiled, pushing open a door. “Come on in.”

You followed him into the room, and he shut the door before pressing you against it and all but growling in your ear. “Baby… you look so good in that little fucking dress. Trying to tease me all night.”

“I wasn’t trying to tease you.” You said, but you were breathless already as Minho’s hand found its way up your skirt to play with your underwear.

“Sure.” He ran his fingers over your pussy, prompting a whine. You were so sensitive to his touch, especially when you were already horny.

“Okay, so, maybe a little bit.” You admitted.

“Just what I thought, baby.” He kissed you, long, searing on your lips. You could barely breathe as he invaded your mouth, his tongue pressing against yours. His hand was still playing with you, and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.

“Oh, you like that?” He rubbed at your pussy harder through your underwear, the fabric rough against you.

“Yes, Minho.” You exhaled.

“Get on the bed.”

You wiggled your underwear off, throwing them somewhere on the floor, and landed on your back on the bed.

Minho crawled on top of you, and as you looked down you could see the bulge in his pants. “You want it, baby? You want it inside you?”

“Yes.” You whimpered. “Want it deep inside me, Minho. We gotta be fast.”

He laughed as he leaned down to kiss you again, hard, demanding. He broke away and sat back to pull off his pants and boxers.

He was already hard, but he stroked himself a few times as he lined himself up with your hole. “Just know you’re gonna be so good around me.”

You just whined, angling your hips up.

Minho rubbed his tip around a little bit, getting it wet with your slick, and began to push inside. He was about halfway in when the door hinges squeaked.

You both froze, whipping towards the door.

Hyunjin stood there, his eyebrows raised. “Well, I didn’t expect you guys to be in here.”

Minho began to pull out.

“No, no, don’t stop.” Hyunjin closed the door, leaning against it, watching the two of you. “Go on. If you’re borrowing my room, you at least should give me a show.”

You nodded, looking at Minho. “We should, shouldn’t we?”

He smirked. “We should.” He pushed back inside with one big thrust that made your eyes roll back and pulled a long moan from your throat.

“Fuck.” Hyunjin said softly.

“She’s so pretty when she’s getting fucked, isn’t she?” Minho’s voice was fond, tender. “I’ve always thought so.”

“She’s gorgeous.” Hyunjin groaned. “She’s fucking hot is what she is.”

“My girl, Hyunjin.” Minho reminded him with a smirk.

“You’re giving me a show. Aren’t I supposed to be watching?”

“I didn’t say you shouldn’t watch.” Minho fucked into you again, and your moan was broken. “Just don’t try to touch.”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Good.” Minho’s hands wrapped around your waist, and he began to fuck you in earnest, his speed picking up. All you could do was grab at his hands and moan, your hips bucking up to meet his.

“Can’t I just touch a little?” Hyunjin’s voice was playful. “Those tits look so nice in that dress.”

Minho stopped moving, looking at you. “Y/n, how do you feel about Hyunjin touching you?”

“Yes.” You said, wriggling in an effort to get Minho to start up again. “Yes, Hyunjin, please touch me.”

Minho smirked again. “Play with her nipples.”

Hyunjin sat behind you, moving your head into his lap, as he leaned over to push the strapless top of your dress down.

“Fuck.” You moaned, your whole body arching off the bed as he began to roll your nipples between his fingers and Minho began to thrust into you again.

“Pretty girl.” He said, his voice a warm contrast to the rough treatment he was giving your tits.

“Sharing might not be so bad, look at how sensitive and twitchy she is.” Minho’s voice was arrogant. You couldn’t see him at this point, your eyes were squeezed shut at all of the sensations washing over you.

“So much.” You breathed.

“Is it too much, baby?” Minho’s voice softened.

“No!” You said quickly. “No, keep going, please, both of you.”

Hyunjin pinched your nipples at the same time, and you let out a little cry. Minho drilled into your hole harder, pushing the air out of you with each thrust. You could feel your orgasm fast approaching.

As you hit the peak of your pleasure, Hyunjin’s ministrations slowed. “No, no, keep going!” You managed to get out through your moans.

“Okay.” He whispered, pinching you even harder. You practically screamed, arching off the bed as they continued to work your body.

You collapsed back down, but neither of them stopped. You felt overstimulated, every sensation so strong and intense, but you didn’t want it to stop. You wanted to be a good girl and get Minho off. You laid there and let it all wash over you.

And soon enough he did cum, deep inside you, with a long groan. Hyunjin’s hands only slowed as Minho pulled out, cum spilling onto Hyunjin’s sheets.

“Ah, sorry.” Minho laughed, looking down.

“It’s okay, I can wash them.” Hyunjin smiled. “Thank you for letting me join, both of you.”

“You’re welcome to share me again, if you like.” You offered, pushing yourself up. You knew you looked thoroughly debauched, your hair messy, your makeup surely running, your top pushed down and your skirt pushed up.

“Fuck, you’re a vision, y/n.” Hyunjin breathed, and you looked down to see how hard he was.

“If… if Minho’s okay with it, you can use me, if you want.” You said.

Minho nodded. “As long as you make her feel good, too.”

Hyunjin swallowed, his eyes raking over you. “I want to make her feel so good.”

You whined.

“Then be my guest.” Minho moved from between your legs, and Hyunjin took his spot. Minho began to stroke your hair, kissing down your neck, as Hyunjin lined himself up.

 You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.