#and fuck everyone for telling me that i should not aspire to be them

[hermioneismyrealname]

Another ruinous thing I thought of.

How many times has a lineage been given the title of villain all because they loved and grieved in the wrong way. How many times did we see they fall of a character into tragic madness when they were once so happy. This madness from unfathomable grief, the loss of their loved ones, and yet fate calls them villains when their hearts were stolen from them. How dare they brandish the blood of their loved ones on their shaking hands not because they did it, but because that was what remains as they held their beloved, their heart, their soul, their life in their last moments of death.

Do not fault me for knowing their tortured souls, their hearts break like mine loves.

[qaanngi]

Scrolled to 2020 to try and update the file for Theo's birthday pic (HBD to him 💙) and that really was such a wonderful period for me in terms of drawing 🥲

[embarrassingmf]

what an idiot

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x reader

SUMMARY: you don’t listen to Dean after he gives you an order, and now he’s smug about it.

WORD COUNT: 668

WARNINGS: a little bit of swearing, not beta’d so there may be typos…

A/N: I had no idea what to make the title ugheklekwjfj. also would’ve loved to write more but I couldn’t think of anything 😭😭

prompt/idea requested by @0ffwiththeirh3ads !

“Y’need to listen to me next time.” Dean chastised you. He had been doing so for the last ten minutes.

All because he had told you not to waltz on into the vampire nest like you owned the place.

For context, you and Dean were hunting down a vampire nest.

Well, aspiring vampire nest considering there was really only four vampires. And you thought you could take them all on your own.

You remember Dean’s words so clearly: “Don’t go running in there without me.”

Of course you didn’t listen, you practically bolted in there while shouting “Who made you the leader?” after him.

Now that you think about it, you should’ve listened to him. Because now you were stuck with Dean patching up your injuries from trying to take on four vampires by yourself.

You could just feel the smug aura coming off of him in waves. He was fucking enjoying this. He was enjoying the fact that he was able to scold you for not listening to him.

In your defense, he wasn’t the actual leader of whatever Godforsaken team you, Sam, Castiel, and Dean had named Team Free Will.

Dean probably just gave the title to himself, because he was the oldest. Well, oldest physically considering Castiel was a literal angel.

“Will you listen to me next time?” Dean’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, and you looked over at him.

He was currently knelt down by your side so he could get better access to the deep gash on your torso as you sat on an uncomfortable motel chair.

You cleared your throat, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Dean tsk’d, shaking his head. “‘m gonna need a more definitive answer than that, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Dean called everyone that. But he used it more on you to get under your skin.

And it worked, it worked so well.

You felt your head fall back, finding the popcorn-textured ceiling much more interesting than Dean all of the sudden.

You could feel his green eyes on you as he waited for your reply. You groaned before muttering a weak “yes,” under your breath.

“What was that? Didn’t quite hear ya.” You grit your teeth, you could hear Dean’s smirk. You didn’t even have to look at him!

“Yes.”

That reply was much better than before, at least according to Dean it was, as he let out a small hum of contentment.

“Good,” He grinned, suddenly tugging on the makeshift stitch he had created to sew your wound tight.

You jumped in your seat as the sudden pain that shit through you. “Jesus Christ-!”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Nope, just me.”

You wanted to slap him. You wanted to slap some sense into him so bad.

“Fuck you…” You grunted under your breath, Dean didn’t reply as he kept working on your wound. His touch much more gentle now.

You averted your gaze from the ceiling and looked over at Dean’s hands deftly stitching your gash closed.

It would definitely scar, but hey, at least it would make a cool story to tell in the future.

After about five minutes, Dean patted your leg before standing up.

He stretched, his back and knees popping from kneeling down and being hunched over.

“I think you should get me some pie as a reward for actually patching you up.” Dean teased, crossing his arms.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Nah, you can get that yourself.”

Dean pursed his lips together. “Oh c’mon, just do it!” He insisted.

“Fine!” You relented, shoulders slumping a bit. “But you owe me then.”

Dean raised his hands in the air as you pointed a finger at him. “Okay, I owe you a favor then I guess.” He chuckled, patting your back as a sign for you to get going and get him his pie.

“Better be back before I fall asleep, wouldn’t want to eat a cold pie in the morning.” He commented before you walked out of the room.

—————————————————————————

reblogs and feedback r appreciated! they keep me motivated <3

[ghostykapi]

three times (you got a charm)

misamo & fem! reader // spicy pt. 2 of three against me

UHMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

anyway minors dni // NSWF UNDER THE CUT TURN AROUND NOW

you and momo never really defined who is the leading person within you four

sana and mina also don't care, but for some reason they are really good at getting what they want, which is usually having control

it's balanced

kind of

there's never really been a dynamic within your relationship with them. no definitive answer to who 'wears the pants' or who tops or who leads or who is simply in control

each with their own charm, you never really gave it much thought. well, not until nayeon was asking over beer and burgers night at a diner you frequent.

"nayeon, why are you asking me? you're literally friends with them, just last week you were over their apartment just so momo can cook you food after your nine to five"

buzzed and giggly, nayeon's eyes hold the curiosity that might not kill her, but sustain her. it makes you a bit scared, you should be more scared

"it's funny that you think i haven't asked them. momo says she doesn't care, sana just laughs and tells me that what matters is everyone is satisfied and mina just turns red and never answers the question"

sounds like them alright

"well" you had dreams, maybe one too many thoughts, of one of them pinning you down and fucking you to oblivion. you haven't done it with them yet, but the image of mina holding momo's collar, all while she's bent over her table getting pounded over that pink strap is forever gonna be in your head. sana is just giggling at your flushed expression over the door frame, clearly pleased at how your 5th date turned out

"you can just watch for now baby, but when you want it, come tell us okay?"

you have dreams, maybe aspirations. doesn't matter what position it is, all you can say is that

"well?" nayeon prods a bit more, despite the teasing tone of her voice, you know she only wants to know how well you have adjusted to the three "don't tell me you haven't had sex with them after six months of being together"

silence

"no"

you don't even acknowledge her at this point, deciding that the wall looks so interesting. hey that's a new wallpaper! that's so nice the old one needed to change after five years

"y/n!" nayeon is shocked, well she has almost every right to be shocked "last time you got into a relationship you told us it only took you 2 months to get your brains fucked, don't tell me that those three dumbasses did something bad—"

"it's not that!" you cut her off, her blush in your face spreading "it's just–uhm how do i say this–they are a lot"

"expand a lot"

"they offered to take turns to get a feel of how they are but i said i wanted the three of them there. so now we're playing this game of they wait patiently for me to make a move but i have been suuppperrr busy so"

more silence

"at least they are letting you decide" nayeon also decided that she doesn't need to break in their apartment to tear them apart "you trust them y/n?"

"yeah i do"

"ok good, because if they do something stupid to you i'll personally break their knees"

"what"

before nayeon can even start again, jihyo appears right beside her, shoving the older girl at the other side of the seat

"hi guys what did i miss"

"jihyo why are you always late? don't you and y/n end your meetings at the same time"

"nayeon unnie stuffed her face with all the fries that was supposed to be for you"

"UNNIE!"

you don't really think about it after that

not until dahyun and chaeyoung came to you during one of your night outs, one is wearing a turtleneck, the other just casually showing her tattoos and bite marks off

"really?" you can't really be stern with them, these were the girls that you took under your wing since high school and they just followed you up until here and probably until wherever

"what?" chaeyoung teases, clearly unfazed despite the other is beet red "jealous?"

"as if" you try not to think of it more, but your head is replaying each gaze they give to you when their needs take over

the couple look at each other

"no way" "holy fucking shit"

now both of them are asking too many questions, leaving you more flustered than it should. even as you walk faster, both keep up, intent to make you suffer for the rest of the evening out

so now you contemplate life choices in the back of jihyo’s car with nayeon blasting the songs too loud, chaeyoung yapping your ear off and dahyun playing soupsoup on your phone

it’s still quite silly to you, because you know that tonight is the night you decide that wearing a suit to drinking dinner was an ok idea. your reasoning being that you had just finished your thesis presentation, and you are just too damn tired to even change outfits. curse that timetable for putting you last on today’s schedule

it’s alright, because the moment you enter the place, heads turn, but that unfortunately mostly contained men who like you. seriously how many are they?

you clutch your messenger bag at the amount of men who look at you like some kind of prize, ready to bash it to their heads on command

“hey losers over here!”

until you shifted your attention to jeongyeon and tzuyu at a table, ready to waste a good 2 hours of the night before everyone decided that it was wise to not get so drunk tonight

as you settle in and try to look away as jihyo starts giving tzuyu one too many kisses, you also take in the setting of this restaurant. as the only one that served coffee, matcha and alcohol on tap, it made a name among college students and other young working adults, thus it’s popular status brought many familiar faces tonight.

in fact in one corner you see your girlfriends conversing, probably discussing their next vacation. sana happily yapping, mina typing everything down, and momo leisurely drinking a shake

wait

what?

you stare at them, trying to figure out if the plans have changed and they forgot to tell you or you talked about it the night before and you completely forgot

they don’t notice, but it seems like they were there since the afternoon, taking their sweet awful time to finish their drinks

so maybe plans haven’t changed, you’d still celebrate with them, have dinner, kiss and finally beat them in mario kart (hopefully!)

well that is until momo spots your eyes across the room and suddenly all three of them seem brighter after they all turn towards your general direction, intent of maybe stealing you away

dinner is still on sweetness?

it’s a text from mina, and you still try to tune out pda from your friends

mhm! i just have to make sure these losers get home safe. me and jeongyeon are babysitter duty today

the three of them huddled over mina’s phone and you think it’s a cute site despite their serious demeanor

ok sweetheart we’ll wait for you back at home. sana says you look incredibly good in that suit

thank you honey, you all look very good today. i’ll show you later how much?

you close your phone before you can see their reactions and see that the entire table is still in chaos

“gross” tzuyu comments beside you, despite having lipstick stains on her neck and jihyo leaning on the other side while reading the menu

“you have one too many lipstick stains, i think we are in the same boat”

even though you agreed to meet later into the night, they stay and watch over you and your group of friends. eyeing anyone that tries to get too close and practically burning that flirty waitress by your table, who is practically eye fucking you. everyone but you can see it

“i’m gonna rip her head off”

“me too”

“girls keep your composure”

each time your orders and drinks come in, she basically gets too close to you, as far to get nayeon, who sit beside you, to glare at her. the entire table makes jokes about it but it flies over your head, just happily munching on some fries and nursing a tipsy tzuyu to simply not mix drinks

“sana if we don’t leave i’ll rip her head off”

“mina don’t you dare, momo grab her and let’s go”

“owkai, cmere my minari”

before they leave though they pass by your table, and you visibly perk up at them. before you or your friends could say anything though, mina grabs your tie and pulls you for a kiss. it shocks you and you don’t recover until momo also does the same thing, earning more gasps from your friends and nearby tables.

“oh!” basically the entire table when momo pulls away, leaving you speechless at their bold moves

“you are ours” sana smiles and gives you a kiss, softer than the two but it leaves you with stars in your eyes “and we want the world to know that”

even after they leave, the rest of the night you are dazed, despite barely even touching a drop of alcohol. thankfully dahyun didn’t drink, so she managed to help you and jeongyeon shove a bunch of drunk young adults into jihyo’s subaru

“unnie it’s ok” dahyun smiles at you while she’s trying to get her very much drunk girlfriend into the car “you sit down in front with jeong unnie before you sit beside any of them and endure their teasing”

even when jeongyeon is yapping beside you and the rest is causing chaos in the back, you still think about those thoughts that you are so desperately trying to stop but failing. you still think about each one’s kiss and how much you crave for more. you think that you want them to do more

even as when they drop you off with hollers and whistles, you think about how dominating mina was with how she pulled you close, how momo simply just wanted you to know how much she wants you, and how sana’s eyes drink you in, inviting you to the world you have been dreaming of.

“you’re home”

as you look through your keys in your bag, you failed to notice the apartment door was open, revealing mina who’s still wearing that suit

you don’t know what came over you, what ever it was that you were thinking fueled you to push mina in, dropping your shoes and bag before kissing her, letting her pull you closer

she pulls away before she does anything more, and you fight the urge to whine and pull her back in

"words my love" mina coaxes you, and it takes so much will power to not give in to your needy eyes “give me words to continue”

“kiss me, fuck me, i—” you are so impatient. you want to feel her love and her touch “show me how much you love me”

she doesn’t hold back, once more using your tie to pull you into a kiss in the hallway, feeling two pairs of eyes from the living room watching

“minari” momo calls over, sana simply content watching you, already loving how the night is turning out “i think you need to bring y/n to our bedroom”

mina pulls away, taking in your needy stare before she drags you to the bedroom, momo and sana in tow, pulling you on the bed. you let mina sit you down before anything goes anything further

“if anything gets too much” mina cups your face, her tone loving but serious “you tell us ok? we want you to feel safe”

“ok sweetheart” you say, looking at all three of your girlfriends, who you trust and love “i trust my girlfriends to love me tonight”

whatever you thought about, it becomes real

momo dives in for a kiss, both of you knowing that everyone wants to do something more

"this is ok?" momo asks one more time

“please” you pull momo close, desperate for another kiss and mina gets rid of your suit, lips immediately locking in to your breasts the moment she removes everything but your panties

“you guys look so good” sana sighs and hugs momo from behind, setting aside her needs to simply watch you get taken care of “you look to pretty for us baby”

and you do, so much that you have to pull away from momo when mina starts to travel down with her kisses, leaving marks in her wake. the possessive side of her peaking through with how many she left on your skin until she reaches between your legs

"can't believe only we get to have you like this, only for us right?"

mina teases you by lightly touching you through your panties, the wetness gathering up and soaking it through

“sweetheart please” you beg, hips rising up to try and get more friction but mina pulls away each time, clearly enjoying the way she’s teasing you

“answer me sweetness”

“fuck yes it’s only the three of you who can do this to me”

mina seems happy with that answer, so she gets you out of your panties before kissing you anywhere but where you need it. you were about to complain until she starts to slowly lick first, before transitioning to fully eating you out

"just keep going darling, you look so hot getting what you want" momo coos right beside you, opting to hold your hand and sana kisses her body and remover her clothes as well

you are becoming delirious, with how delicious it feels for mina to eat you out like this

“more” you demand, and mina will give what you want “give me more”

“everything for you sweetness”

and she holds you down, her fingers entering you as she dives in deeper. she can’t get enough of your taste, moaning at how good you taste, slurping and eating you out like you are her dinner

your thighs are almost crushing mina who is in practically pussy heaven, and momo whispers in your ear the words that send you to your tipping point

“cum on mina’s mouth oh i know you want it baby, that’s what you need isn’t it? for our girl to show you how good it feels to be worshiped like that? mhm i know darling just cum for us”

you snap, chanting mina’s name like a mantra as you cum. mina? fuck she thinks she just died and this is heaven, despite her head being crushed. you just taste so good for her to go like this

“i wanna” you catch your breath, as mina lazily licks and kisses your pussy, helping you calm down from the high “make someone feel good too”

“me me me” momo is ready, simply pulling you to a kiss to confirm it “fuck me darling”

and so you do, after much kissing and teasing momo with your thigh, you find yourself fucking her with two fingers and your other hand rubbing her clit. her lips chanting your name and a bunch of curse words

"keep your fingers in me darling, i need more"

momo’s physique is too good to be viewed like this. her hazy eyes, muscles flexing under the warm lights, her hands gripping the sheets to try and hold back. it’s too much

“that’s it darlin’” she moans out, her hips moving, trying to meet your thrusts

“please” you moan, your face right in front of her pussy and the view momo is getting is making her get closer and closer to her peak “please cum for me”

it doesn’t really take long, with sana coaxing her to cum by doing what she did to you, momo’s back arches of the bed, her moan so loud you briefly think if anyone heard that through the walls

“fuck” you let her ride her high before pulling you fingers out and putting them in your mouth, moaning at the taste of her. knowing that in the future that you might spend hours on end on your knees eating her out

momo watches, cursing at how good you look while licking her juices off your fingers

“my turn”

sana smiles as she’s suddenly on top of you, while momo moves to lay beside mina to watch you both for a bit, still trying to catch her breath

“i want” sana is seductive, too good at making you putty in her hands “you too feel good just as i feel good so what we are gonna do is this”

and so, with much teasing sana can do and take within 10 minutes, you find yourself losing your mind as sana grinds her pussy unto yours. she has been soaking wet since the start and she is desperate to make you cum on her

you try to keep up, you really do, but with how much sana is in control and how much weak you are with the way she looks at you with those vixen eyes, you find yourself moaning and clutching the sheets for dear support

“you—” sana’s high pitched whine makes everyone in the room breath hitch “keep grinding on me baby i wanna cum on you too”

each time your clits touch, you can feel the pleasure electrify you, hands trying to grab anything else. that’s mina and momo’s cue to go beside you both, ready to help you both reach that high

“you’re taking sana so well sweetheart”

“fuck doesn’t she look so good being fucked like this for us minari?”

“yeah she does and sana is such a hard working girl isn’t she baby? look at her grinding on you like that”

you are so losing it right now

in between praises and the teasing, you find yourself reaching your second climax for the night. sana sees your thighs start to twitch and she grids deeper

“cum with me” sana is a demanding girl and it doesn’t take long for you to grant what she wants. bodies in synch as you cum together, mina holds you as you let go just how momo holds sana as she cums as well.

you take a while to reign bearings again just to find yourself being peppered with kisses, being wiped down with a towel, and hearing praises of how well you took it and promises that dinner will be fixed up after a shower

"that's our girl"

when you look up, they coo at your love struck daze

“love you sweetness”

“i love you my darlin’”

“thank you pretty girl, i love you”

“i love you guys too”

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 20

Prompt: Aphrodisiac Pairing: roommate!Wooyoung x fem!reader WC: 5.4k Summary: Someone needs to put a parental block on Wooyoung’s browser. Or cut his credit card. (A part 2 to Feb.Filth.Fest)

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Wooyoung or any Ateez member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this.

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

Additional TW/CW below the cut.

TW/CW: I would classify this as dubcon as TECHNICALLY the reader is under the influence unknowingly of said aphrodisiac. Everyone in this is having a good fun time and it is merely a catalyst but still, I feel that needs to be a warning itself. Additional warnings are: bodily fluids, so much unprotected fucking, lots of pet names and degrading names used both towards reader and wooyoung (most obnoxious is the amount I’ve chosen to use “Wooyoungie” so be warned). reader body parts described as fem, also addressed as “girl” a couple of times. Mostly just plain ol’ sloppy sex.

 Wooyoung barely peaks over the edge of his phone screen as he hears the slap of a bag against the coffee table.  “Jung Wooyoung-”  “OOoh using my full name today are we?”  “JUNG WOOYOUNG,” you start again, louder and angrier. “After last time you really think another bag of these godforsaken things was a smart investment to spend your refund on?”  Wooyoung fights the tug of a sly grin forming at the corners of his mouth. “What about that wasn’t a good time? You seemed to have a good time.”  Sucking your teeth you glare at him. “Something about walking in on my roommate coated in his own cum soaked boxers, babbling about how he was dying, left a sour impression on me. Could you imagine that?”  “Hot,” he gives into the grin, a small puff of a chuckled exhale escaping his nose.  You roll your eyes, “you’re a fucking gremlin. Get rid of them, in the trash or give them to your friends. I’d say get rid of them however you want but-” you see his eyes twinkle mischievously and you nod. “Exactly. So, trash or friends. Not food for Wooyoungie. Not again.”

 To his credit, the bag disappears the next day, almost as though it’s evaporated into thin air, and the whole threat of a repeat incident starts to slip your mind. It’s completely forgotten as you haphazardly plunder Wooyoung’s side of the cupboards looking for an afternoon snack. Several weeks of aspirational grocery shopping left your side of the cupboard bare of easy dopamine hits. So when the 4pm slump came around, each week it got harder and hard to fight. That’s how you found yourself digging through his stash of popcorn and gummies of all shapes and sours. A desperate measure for a desperate person. That’s when your fingers brush against a small twisted up bag of half melted gummies seemingly forgotten at the back of the stash. Surely Wooyoung had forgotten about them, the lump of coagulated colors meshing into a mystery kaleidoscope of flavor.

 You try to only eat a few but the way they’re melted together and their sweet fruity floral flavor you end up finishing the bag mindlessly. Which is only a problem for the theoretical goal of eating less sugar. Not a real problem, a pretend problem. Luckily it provides just the buzz of sugar and serotonin to propel you through the last hours of your day.

 As you type your toes tap. Must’ve been some preworkout gummies, jitters passing through you like caffeine. Your stomach twists but it’s just about 5pm and you’re almost done with your essay so you power through, blinking to force your focus. You can barely tell how you’re twisting in your seat, thighs plastered together as you start to sweat.

 When did it get so warm? You try to breathe deeply to release the tension in your chest. Why did it feel like you were going to explode, as though you’d forgotten to breathe? Mouth dry, your gut burns and twists. It’s almost like you need to use the bathroom, almost. But you’re so thirsty. There’s no way you need to use the bathroom, you’re parched.  The whole apartment smells like Wooyoung. Like warm soil and vanilla and musk. In your time as friends and apartment mates it’s grown comforting and safe. It’s like an easy spring day cuddled up to a lover. What you wouldn’t give for one of those now. Cuddling and pressing together, just cold enough that keeping as tight to each other as possible was the best way to fight the elements. How nice it would be to put your nose in the crook of Wooyoung’s collar and breathe him in, scent mixing into the wool.  No. No more of that. Your core aches in need. No more daydreaming, especially about that brat. None.  Chugging a glass of water in the kitchen you’re still insatiable, toes tapping against the linoleum anxiously. When would Wooyoung be home? Do you have time for a quick moment alone? You hadn’t had that sort of “me” time in a bit so maybe that would help. Without thinking too much of it your shove your hand in your pants, fingers gliding between your folds. You’re already soaking through your underwear as you rub against your clit. It takes maybe a minute before you’re leaning into the side of the counter, knees knocking together as you cum. It feels good but another would feel even better.

 The apartment smells like that day, or the aftermath of that day, as Wooyoung swings the door open. Floral with a raw musky edge pervading the air. The faint electrical buzz of something vibrating perking his ears.  “Wooyoung,” you whine, still hidden from his view. “Wooyoung you didn’t throw them out.”  Instead of going straight to you, to the living room, or even to his room, Wooyoung goes to the kitchen trash, an empty plastic bag sitting on the counter. “You’ve been raiding my snacks I see.”  “You didn’t throw them out,” you whine again, tone tilting up into a hushed gasp. “You told me you did!”

 Your face is stained with sweat and tears, slightly swollen lips from biting down on them. He’s sure you don’t even notice the subtle rocking motion your pelvis makes as your thighs rub together. But he notices.  “You look desperate,” he notes aloud, eyes flickering dangerously. “I must’ve looked worse.”  The cocky smile that you’d usually be so eager to strip from his face sends a shudder through your body. The fact is, he looks like he might eat you whole and you would’ve mind that in the least. Fucking betrayed by your cunt which throbs unapologetically at the passing thought. His eyes flicker again, a knowing flicker, as your cheeks burn. If your embarrassment could generate energy there would be enough to light a city block for a day. He knows. It’s only a matter of time now.  “Can you not be like this?” You whine, fingers gripping the edge of the couch. It’s closer now than ever as you lean forward, just a little bit more pressure. Just a little bit more.

 Wooyoung cocks his head, letting the motion lead him to turn on his heel and drift into the hallway. “Not sure what you mean.”  A fresh wave of arousal floods your thighs. Insolent brat. “You fucking know what I mean.”  “You’re right, I do, I do know exactly what you mean. I’m just waiting for you to say it.” He smiles that foxy grin again. You forcefully squeeze your eyelids shut, as if he couldn’t see you if you couldn’t see him. “Did you just cum? How many times have you?”  Shame burns your cheeks. “You don’t know that.”

 “We’ve fucked of course I know what you look like when you cum.” He sounds sickeningly proud of this. Proud of being one of the few and mighty to know.  “Pervert,” your nose wrinkles and you squeeze your eyelids tighter.  “Says the one who just made herself cum in the living room while her roommate stood there. You didn’t even ask if you could. If I’d even want you to. You needed to get off that badly didn’t you? I know. I know because I did it too. I remember.”  Despite having just cum, your heart is racing. Wiggling your toes you can feel the excess energy pouring off of you. It’s uncomfortably warm. This is your penance. You want to use Wooyoung’s thigh, muscular and sturdy. Just hump the shit out of it while he sucks hickeys in your chest. The thought consumes you, the memory of the sweet little hums of satisfaction he’d made as he-  “Wooyoung!” You yelp, eyes snapping open and brimming with tears. “You have to go. You have to, I can't control it. I really can’t. Wooyoung I can’t let this happen to us again.” You’re practically begging as you feel the knife of lust twist tighter in your gut. Folding over, you shift your legs just enough to provide pressure to your throbbing core, a moan of relief wracking your body. It’s pathetic, you’re pathetic.

 It takes only a couple strides for him to close the gap between himself and the couch. Again was all he’d been wishing for since that day. Wooyoung slips in behind you, propping your back against his chest as you sob. “Do you want me to help you out, I know how,” he suggests as his fingers trace the seam of your pants up your inner thigh. Your hips buck up with a whimper.  “No, I’m fine,” you sniff.  “No? You and I both know the quickest way to get this problem solved.”  His hands splay across the fronts of your thighs, inching slowly towards the hem of your shirt. A trickle of sweat beads at your brow. The room is too hot for this closeness. Too hot for how dressed you both are. You’re burning up in this embrace but you like it, you need it. He smells so much like him and only him. Even if you purchased a bottle of the same cologne you could never replicate it. Warm and comforting and earthy. Your head tips back to his shoulder as you follow your nose to the side of his neck subconsciously.  “You must be in a lot of pain,” he coos with an air of condescension. “I know you are because I remember. You probably don’t even realize how hard your ass is pressing into my cock but I can tell you, it’s enough to leave an impression.”  “Wooyoung,” you whine again huffing as you divert all your mental energy to stilling your hips. “It’s your fault! You can’t make fun of me. You can’t tell anyone. I-I-” your lower lip trembles, breathing hard. His hand barely ghosts over your lower belly and you shake, cumming unceremoniously the instant he brushes over your mound.  You can feel the mixture of his lips and teeth and the condensation of his breath as he whispers against your ear. “Someone was in my bed earlier. Now unless you let someone in and they took a nap, there’s really only one other person that could’ve been.” Slowly his nails catch on the ridges of the denim fabric, almost plucking like a string as he strokes the rest of the way up the seam.  Moaning you bury your face as deep as you can in the side of his neck, practically drooling as your head swims with his scent. It sinks into your stomach and satiates a bit of the hunger gnawing at your insides. “Sorry,” you bleat suddenly, half muffled by him. He can feel your thighs quake as you cum again.  “Can you tell me why you were in my bed? Or did you get lost on the way to yours?”  “Smelled so good. You smell so good. Had to. Had to while I- god damn it Wooyoung. You know. Of all people. You know!” Your throat tenses, voice cracking hideously. You had gone in his room. Into his bed. You’d put your nose right into the mattress with you ass up in the air as you’d finger fucked yourself to completion, all the while inhaling the unwashed unadulterated scent of your roommate. What was worse is that you’d never cum harder or felt better.  “I promise you it’s much easier if you give in. I know you like a fight but you’re about to shake your skin off the bones.”  You sniffle. You hate how right he is. You hate how much you want him to make you cum. You hate that you can’t just be relaxed and calm and collected and cool about it. Sometimes best friends fuck, it can be that simple. It’s not that simple though, you think as your entire body flashes hot and shakes in his arms. “Wooyoung,” you whine again, twisting to face him and straddling his lap. “Do you mean it?”  Tenderly he swipes your sweat matted hair from the sides of your face and kisses your cheek. He kisses everyone’s cheeks, you remind yourself before you let your heart flutter too hard at the small action. “I’m your best friend, babe. It would be my pleasure, whenever you’re ready.”  God damn it Wooyoung, you swear internally. You’d almost rather his almost combative side than the gentle care he is giving you now. It’s less dangerous to you. You can write that off easier. Both of your foreheads meet, his lips hang loosely open, somehow plumper when you’re looking down from on top of him. From here you can see the mole on his lower lip even clearer. “You don’t say shit about this to any of our friends,” you hiss in his ear, tugging his head back by his hair. You can’t afford for him to do anything unexpected. Not right now. “No one knows about this. None. Got it?”  He chuckles, adams apple bobbing in his neck. “Still fighting?” He looks delicious, smirking under you like this. You could eat him right up. “Even when you’re humping me like horny teenager, you still want to pretend like you have this all under control.” You look down, your hips betraying you as you grind on the growing lump in his pants. It’s not like you can feel much through the fabric of your jeans, it’s embarrassing that despite this you still do it. Wooyoung’s hands rest in the juncture of your hip and thigh, subtly encouraging the action with the slight press of his finger tips. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.”  You shudder, fingers flexing and tugging at his hair. His eyes roll back with a half pain half pleasure moan. He sounds just like you remember, like you’ve been trying not to remember. Flush with the heat of arousal, your eyes lock on his. “Help. It’s your fault, help me.”

 Strength surges in Wooyoung, lifting up from the couch, carrying you with your legs locked around his waist. The warm earthy vanilla smell grows as he walks down the hall into his bedroom, tossing you onto his already defiled bed, shoving aside the toys you’d forgotten in your lust induced haze. Closing your eyes, you ball the sheets in your hands and shove the scent soaked cotton into your face. The familiarity calms your raging libido just as you feel the weight of Wooyoung sinking into the mattress.

 “I’m going to take care of you, okay?” His fox-like eyes peek up at you from below. “Can’t believe you ate them all. ‘M not going to be able to cum as much as you can.” He tugs your jeans down from your hips, followed swiftly by your underwear, nearly completely soaked with sweat and release. He doesn’t give you enough time to become embarrassed, splayed out in front of him as you are. Propping your legs back further, his lips wrap over your slit, licking into you messily. The strong flick of his tongue has your legs shaking, cumming easily on his lips.  ‘So sensitive,’ he giggles, kissing the inside of your thigh.  “It’s your fault,” you slur, head lolled back into the mattress. “Fucking gummies.”  “Yeah that’s their point. Fucking.” He slurps at you again. “God you taste good.” Lick. “Thought you weren’t as messy as I was-” Slurp. “-but you’re dripping all the way down to your thighs.”  “Nooo,” you whine and cover your face in embarrassment, knees knocking into his head gently.  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Wooyoung slurps again, this time his lips locking over the sensitive skin of your thigh and sucking a pink welt into it. A welt that only the two of you would ever see or know about. The thought excites him, erection pressed hard to the fabric of his underwear.  He’s eager and attentive and the sounds that fill the room are appropriately lewd to match. He drinks you like a man at an oasis, appreciatively humming, lips buzzing with sympathetic vibrations. Slipping two fingers into you, you cum again easily, just happy to have resistance to your spasms.  “Now just imagine if you’d left some for me,” he laughs, wiping his lips on the back of his arm. The tip of his nose glitters as do his eyes.  “You came so much last time,” you pant. His help has relieved some of the tension, or at least your hand wasn’t cramping. “-so full-so much-”  “You think you haven’t?” He laughs again, grabbing your waist and suddenly flipping you like a ragdoll. As if to make a point he pulls your hips up, dragging your front into the mattress, and pushes his full length in. You groan as the tip presses into your cervix snugly, his hips flush to the curve of your ass. His hands grip your ass, spreading you open as he slowly rolls his hips into you. “Cute little pussy seems to like me more than you do. Taking me in so nicely,” he says through gritted teeth.  Face mashed into the sheets you drool, the debauched position has you seeing stars. Almost helpless with your arms pinned below you and your ass in the air the wondrous fog of lust drapes over your inhibitions. “Cum, please, need-” you mutter, muffled by the blankets. “Need it, need you-” you chant over and over, tunneled in on the one request. Feel him cum, feel the warm release pulse and coat you inside.  “Yeah babe, I think you waited long enough for this,” he says, hands pressing into the small of your back as his hips snap faster. “I know you need it real bad. Gonna take it like a good slut for me?”  “Please.” Your earnest cries catch in the damp cotton. Blurry relief and endorphins wash over you as you clench around him. Desperate to milk him dry you slam yourself backwards. His rhythm catches and falters, fingers squishing into your flesh as he cums deep inside. The first splash of release feels euphoric, your legs giving up, leaving Wooyoung to hold your hips steady. He pulls back and rams deep again gasping and panting as he pushes himself even deeper, trying to mold you to his shape.

 Wooyoung lets you slip sideways onto the bed, cum dribbling down your thighs. “Does it feel better?” A warm towel presses to your sex.  Want burrows deep in your gut. Shamefully you remain silent. You want to tell him yes but you can’t. You need more. The craving burns worse than hunger or thirst. You hear the clink of ice cubes in a glass and open your eyes.  “You’ve lost a lot of water.” A statement of fact. Lost a lot of water to cumming. You sniff and sip the cool liquid. It doesn’t satiate you. Toes wiggling with anxious energy you try to focus on the feeling of the glass in your hand, the weight, the ridges.  “When can you go again?” Your voice sounds haunted and hoarse.  Wooyoung nods. “I thought you might- it’s gonna-” he hesitates as you rise from the sheets like a woman possessed.  “Can you just-can I just-” you start to pull him down into your arms, grinding down on his half hard cock. He winces and gasps,  “I really can’t yet babe. I promise, just a second,” kissing the side of your neck as he untangles himself and reaches over the side of the bed. “I got a friend to help with this predicament.” Like a rabbit from a magicians hat he pulls your wand vibrator up into the air. All white, large domed head tilted ever so slightly from years of usage. With a click the vibrator whirrs to life in his hand as he touches it to your mound.  You half groan half sob, “-but-need cum.” Your body shakes and thrashes as he presses more insistently. Your orgasm hurts as you clench down on nothing with a sob. Unnatural hunger claws at your chest and stomach, you feel blinded despite fully being able to see. Wave after wave crests over you as if it could overtake you but you’re parched enough to drink the ocean.  “God you look so beautiful fucked out like this,” Wooyoung watches your rapture with delight. Eyes rolling back you look like a renaissance era angel with your hair strewn out and mouth agape.  You barely breathe as you spasm below him, coming back from your experience gasping. “I need-fuck me-fuckme-please-Wooyoung,” oversensitive, you scramble backwards to get away from the whirring implement. A single click and silence fills the room, the only sound is the soft creak of the bedframe as he shuffles between your thighs.  Wooyoung holds the glass of water to your lips, “drink a little more for me.” Guiding the glass back he watches carefully as you sip down even the tiniest bit more. “Would it help if i took an ice cube in my mouth and trailed it down your body?  Dick in hand Wooyoung leans over you, feeding his length to your wanting walls. The aching empty is replaced by the comfort of fullness. It was meant to be like this. Just like this. Full of him in every way. His cock pushes his own seed from you as he thrusts, coating his length in a ring of bodily fluids.  “I want you to cum a couple more times for me, okay? Because I won’t be able to do as much as you.” The telltale buzz of your vibrator coming to life in his hand fills the void of sound. “Just let go.”  “But-cum-” you plead again like a broken record.  Long slow strokes bounce your hips back on his. “I know babe, I know,” his voice drips with false empathy. Lowering the buzzing head to your clit the shockwave is intense, your hips bucking upwards, fucking him deeper into you.  “Wooyoungie,” your voice shakes with your body. “Wooyoungie.”  Your back bows painfully as the top of your head presses into his mattress. You don’t have time to tell him further, to warn him. The euphoria you breach is like none other, your essence floods around him coating the both of you and the sheets. Wet and messy relief washes hot over you, melting what’s left of your mind.  Wooyoung’s eyes roll back, pinching his thigh to keep himself from spilling into you too soon. Even though you’d welcome it, you need it, selfishly he wants this to last. He wants to see you vulnerable and needy for him like he was for you.  To your credit, or your bodies credit, you work him like a pro, hips swiveling and grinding eagerly as you whine. “Wooyoungie please. Please I’ve been so good. Please it hurts so much. Please fill me. I need it. I need you.”  “Oh darling I love when you beg me,” he coos through gritted teeth, refusing to give in as you sob lightly. “You’ve got to work a little harder for it.”  “Wooyoung please, please,” you chant as you arch your hips up, trying to fuck yourself on him as best you can from below. Grunting and groaning in frustration. “It’s not fair,” you bemoan as he chuckles at you. “Can’t, from this angle,” you whine.  Wooyoung cocks an eyebrow at you, hips remaining stone still. “Are you gonna do something about it babe?”  With a huff you push him to his back, cock slipping from you as he settles in the bed. “You fucking asked for it. You asked for it, you dumb bastard.” You spit and swear as you settle back on his cock.  He hisses as he watching himself disappear between your thighs, your hands pressing into his chest as you sit on your throne. Claiming him. His head spins. “I didn’t ask for anything-oh shit.”  Your hips slam down on him with a vengeance. Grinding yourself on him, gasping and moaning as you use him like nothing more than a living dildo. “Loud mouth, only thing you’re good for is cum, not even-not even-shit-” you quickly lose your train of thought to another roll upwards of his hips. Bridging from his thighs he bounces you as your head rolls back, watching your breasts jiggle with the tug of gravity. You almost fall forward as he settles back down, furiously swiveling your hips back and forth over his lower abdomen. Gulping air you shudder and groan. “Going to fucking use you.”  “I like when you use me, pretty girl,” he laughs as his hands run up your front, thumb pressing between your lips. Salty and musky you lap and suck at what’s given to you as if it was your last meal.  “Seems your loud mouth is good for something.”  Carnal is the only way to describe the fire burning in your veins as Wooyoung’s hands travel your body with wonder. His hair halo’d around his head, veins in his neck protruding as he presses back into the pillow. Swearing and groping he tries to steady himself as his hips kick up, abs tensing.  “Gonna-oh shit-gonna-” he stutters. He can barely talk as he pulls all his focus to not cumming just yet. You’re so close, hips losing some coordination for the sake of speed, and he can’t let himself lose control before you do. Grunting in frustration he grits his teeth, grabbing your ass and steadying you over him. Biceps flexing and almost pinning you he grinds up into you, pressure building between his body and your clit. Your eyelids flutter and mouth falls. He’s doing a good job.  “Oh fuck-Woo-oh-” words catch in your throat, pulse dropping to your sex. The gentle pulsing squeeze of your walls draws your well earned reward from him. His release coats and spills out as you huddle over his chest, going in and out of consciousness, refractory shockwaves coursing through you.

 You wake first, his head rests on your soft stomach, bobbing with each inhalation. His hand is still intertwined with yours, both of you sticky from the day’s escapades. It must be well past dinner as your stomach churns with hunger. You have no concept of how you’d gotten here but likely in large part due to his care.  “Feelin’ be’er?” Wooyoung slurs, his thumb slightly stroking yours.  “Hungry,” you groan.  Wooyoung cackles, “it was a lot of energy, need fuel I’m sure.” His fingers escape yours, traveling the juncture of your hip and thigh. Everything still feels hazy but at least it’s quiet. “Are you settled? You good?”  He sounds almost hesitant, it tugs at your heart unexpectedly. You don’t really want it to be over but it is over. The burning subsided.  “I think I need-” you mutter sheepishly.  “-one more?” He finishes your statement with a question, perking his head up. “I think, maybe, I’m definitely running low but-” he babbles even as he’s pressing himself between your thighs. “If you need me to-”  “-if it’s really too much I can-” you start to babble back to him as his lips meeting your navel, leaving you squirming and gasping.  “-it really seems like you still might be dealing with some residual effects. You’re being too nice to me.” Wooyoung is already scooping his arms underneath your torso, hands wrapping up and over your shoulders as he pushes himself easily into you again. It feels like home, warm, cozy.  Eyes rolling back you sigh contentedly. The slip of the remnants of cum lessen the drag of his member but still the indescribable completeness leaves you breathless. Not much is said between you, deep unfettered groans escape muffled into eachothers shoulders. As frenetic and messy and animalistic as each previous session had been, this one was equally as tender.  Wooyoung’s loose lips want to spill confessions of love and desire. Fucking you as if the deeper he reached the more you’d be convinced of his love until his cock brushes your cervix.  You groan and curl below him.  “Too much?”  “Just stay a minute, let me,” you hook your legs over his and plant them into the mattress. Slowly you wind your hips, round and around. The gnawing hunger claims your gut again but this time, this time it isn’t a gummy or a drug pulling a trick. Eyes rolling back you groan again as you grind your clit against his pelvis.  “That’s my girl,” he murmurs almost as an afterthought. The words fall from him easily, unintentionally, and yet leave you gasping as you tip over the edge. Clawing at his back, unbothered by the potential to leave a mark. You almost hope you do, in case he was thinking of going out any time soon, so the next bitch knew someone had been there.  Panting he leans back and away from you, onto his haunches, hips still slowly and shallowly rocking into you. A smirk forms as he surveys the damage. “That good?”  “Cocky bastard.”  His smirk turns to a full foxy grin, “she’s back to the sane I see? I guess I should just-” he pauses before pulling back even more threatening to pull completely from you  Before you can stop yourself, you’re clambering up towards his chest, pawing at his shoulders with a small whine as you sit yourself back on his length. “You’re an ass.”  “You love me,” he says as he presses his forehead to your shoulder. God damn it he’s right, but you won’t admit that. Instead you reciprocate the bend of his head, burying your nose in his neck. Sitting in his lap and rocking with your limbs tangled it’s a different speed than your frantic needy drug induced fucking. More sliding and writhing. Wetter as well, sweat and spit and cum layered from previous rounds. Clingy and breathless. Falling and molding into each other as though two bodies could mesh into one if they simply tried hard enough.  Wooyoung litters your body with kisses for fear his unbusied lips will spill pillowtop confessions. His body aches from overstimulation but still his promise to take care of you drives him forward. The burn in his gut clenches his jaw as it sears down his legs. Slowly he works his mouth all the way down to your breast, arms cradled in the arch of your back as his tongue laves across your nipple. His cock throbs painfully as your walls clench in response.  Unaided by the magic of the gummies you start to break down yourself. Sex burning to the point of numbness you can barely summon the effort to even do the minimal rutting and rocking you have been.  “You can give me one more, right?” You groan out.  His hair tickles you as he nods a yes, lips tingling on you as he moans.  “You’re so so good Wooyoungie. You’ve been so good to me. Use me however you need.”  Wooyoung doesn’t need as much as he wants. Wants you to feel his love. He moves without a second prompting, tumbling the two of you backwards and hoisting your legs up into your chest. His hips pummel yours as he puts all his focus into chasing his high. You no longer whine or moan, you grunt with air forced out with each powerful thrust. The light behind your eyelids burns black as your head swims. Shaking in his grasp the constant squeeze of your desperate cunt spurs him forward. He has to cum. For you, he has to. Even through the searing pain in his inner thighs, you asked him to. He wants to. Lower lip jutting out in concentration, his mouth starts moving without his focus to stop it.  “Fuck, I love you,” he blurts, a weak dribble of cum splashing against your walls. Fingers digging into your ass and the side of your thighs, you can feel his length pulse as his brow furrows and gasps. “I love you so much, fuck. Hurts. God damn it,” he reiterates as he falls forward between your thighs, crushing you chest to chest. “I love you,” he continues to mumble, spit soaking into the pillow pressed to his mouth.  In a bleary haze you pat his shoulder mutely. How can he be so strong and so frail at the same time? Even as he whines and confesses his undying love, your heart swells. You need rest, you need a shower even more. The list grows in your mind as it defogs, listening to him until all that’s left is his slow steady breathing.

[kaq3yma]

𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐘'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 featuring michael kaiser

syn: soft launched on instagram by the infamous prodigy

⸻ cw: slight languages, instagram au, and very short

qeena's brief note: qeena trying an instagram au with kaiser after a whole year not making it?!! 😱 ik it's super short but tumblr won't allow more ten pictures soo i guess i'll have to deal with that for now and so sorry for the pictures, theyre like the best i could find (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ but how about a part two??? i might consider it, i might not lol idk buttt... i guess that's all for now keehee ! tell me how you feel about this one, whether or not should i continue making similar fics like this 🤔 thank you everyone, i love you, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated and happy reading xoxo 🩷💚

yourusername

❤️ 143 💬 12 🚀

Liked by thatgerman.prodigy and others

yourusername my long-awaited princess treatment 💖👸

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yourfriend me when

yourusername replies sooooonn 🤭

thatgerman.prodigy truly deserved

yourusername replies 💋💋💋

michael_k_fanpage

🤍 74.2K 💬 1,548 🚀 211

michael_k_fans michael kaiser was seen last night hugging with a mysterious woman. Could it be that this unknown woman is the prodigy's plus one?

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fan1 we don't know yet, it could be his mom or his sister lol

fan5 replies no shi, his mom not in the pic no more and he's an only child 💀

fan2 ITS SOOO OBVIOUS 😭😭😭 naur my heart is breakingg

fan3 that's me yall fr 💯😎

fan6 replies u wish

fan7 replies delulu is not always the solulu

fan4 if you look at it carefully, u can see me crying on the corner

mchl.kser ☑️

❤️ 1.6M 💬 52.9K 🚀 142K

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mchl.kser well fuck it, ive been wanting to soft launch anyway @yourusername ssup mama 😍

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yourusername hiya!

fan1 replies HELLOOOOO

fan2 replies why is ur acc private 😓

fan15 replies to fan2 cus mind yo own business, that's why

fan3 replies TELL ME HOW U PULL THE KAISER BRO (no actually tell me how kaiser pull THE YOU)

fan15 replies she's living the life wanted by million kaiser glazer 😵‍💫💯🙏🏻🔥

fan192 replies adopt me pls im an aspiring model in dress to impress 🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️

"Micha, why the hell you tagged me for bro?!" The weird-haircut boy snickers in amusement, continue typing away on his phone with a huge grin on his face "Shuddup, donkey. I got lots of comments here telling me I'm a lucky man." You thrash yourself beside him on the bed, grunting loudly.

"You are a dork. I got so many friends request and what am I supposed to do about that?" He throw his phone down, spreading his arms to put them around your waist to tug you close "You can make another account like I do. It's not that hard, liebling." You push his face off, murmuring incoherent words beneath your breaths "Idiot. This wouldn't happen if you hadn't tag me at all in the first place." He laughs, grabbing you back to put you beside him on the bed.

"Come on, it's fine right? You're not mad at me are you?" You sighed, not bothered to argue anymore and just lie down beside him.

"du bist süß, schatz..."

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 is open. all rights reserved goes to @kaq3yma on tumblr.

[secretidentie]

movies that should be superbat fics

Inspired by the first full superbat fic I've ever read The Proposal by @blackbatofel

How to loose a guy in 10 day: Clark needs to write a story to break into the main stream so people will pay attention to his more important work and after hearing Cat grant talk about her love life he decides to write about all the ways you can drive a man away in ten days. Bruce Wayne is trying to adopt Dick and sign a deal for WE and both those things require him to prove he can commit to something and be a family man so he bets he can make someone fall in love with him in 10 days

The other woman: Bruce Wayne is dating lex Luther for PR reasons. Clark is dating lex for investigation reasons. When Clark finds out online that lex has a boyfriend he's furious about the infidelity and immediately tells Bruce. Bruce, thinking Clark is a heartbroken mistress, suggests working together to get revenge. Clark, wanting to comfort Bruce through his breakup, agrees to said revenge. Shenanigans insues.

The hangover: batman, superman and green lantern are assigned to a mission in Vegas. They complete it easily and to celebrate lantern convince them to get drinks together even though the other two don't get along. When Bruce and Clark(who isn't supposed to be able to get drunk) wake up the next morning they don't know where they are, somethings wrong with Clark's powers, Hal's ring is in the bathroom sink, he's no where to be found and apparently the two of them got married last night. They have to figure out what happened and where Hal is before the next JL debrief otherwise they'll have to admit to Diana and the whole team that they fucked up a simple mission by getting shit faced on the job and Bruce would rather die than let that happen.

The holiday: when Bruce realizes he's either dumped, adopted or detested everyone in Gotham he's yearning for a change of scenery. He gets into contact with an old friend, lois lane, who's recently devorced but is still living with her ex husband. After finding out that she shares his desire for something different they decided to swap homes for a few weeks where they can both work remotely to experience life across the pond.

Titanic: a young Bruce engaged to Talia goes on a yacht cruise with the league of assassin's on the unsinkable ship designed by lex Luther by combining metals like lead with alien tech. Uncoincidentally Clark sneeks on the ship to investing in for kryptonite and criminal activities but ends up finding love as well.( Does this mean Clark has to die? Probably, but it's worth it for the plot. And Clark's sacrifice and worldview could be what inspired Bruce to quit the league and become batman)

You before me: After Bruce is horribly injured on the field he has to prematurely hand over the mantel of batman. Since his kids have done a good job at filling in for him, Bruce feels like he's lost his purpose. Alfred decides to hire Clark kent, an aspiring journalist from Smallville, as Bruce's caregiver so he can show Bruce a better outlook on life and hopefully convince him to reconsider ending his life(y'all know I had to even out the death score)

Bring it on: Bruce Wayne, owner of the daily planet, prides himself on the fact that his paper was the most awarded publication for the past 3 years. While gearing up for the 4th his new hire, lois lane reveals to him that his recently retired chef editor has been stealing stories from a smaller independent paper. That paper has been gaining traction this year and is being nominated for the same awards as them, including a pulitzer. After the owner of the rival paper, Clark, doesn't accept his apology or financial help, Bruce strives for justice and wants to make it right. During this he starts admiring Clark's work and starts falling from him. Clark,reluctant to let his guard down and be too trusting again, says he doesn't want pity from a billionaire pushing Bruce to do everything he can to turn his staff into award winners.... or atleast decent writers.(I clearly have no idea how journalism awards work)

[yakumtsaki]

Spice and Cyan are the last cousin-fuckers left standing and are proving impossible to break up. I'm inclined to blame the fact Sugar and June also had the hots for each other and passed these destructive genes on to these losers but whatever it is they're just annoyingly into each other.

Now I'm not gonna lie, I did almost waver cause I was like 'man you know what they're second cousins so at the end of the day truly who cares, maybe I should just let them stay together and create one Union super-bebe'.. and then I see this:

In case you can't tell from this amazing screenshot they have ONE BOLT. ONE. ALL THIS DRAMA OVER ONE BOLT ARE YOU KIDDING ME

-What is drama compared to someone you almost desire? -Oh baby, the mediocrity of my passion for you is too much to bear!

-This lukewarm hot tub water is the perfect metaphor for our love.. -Exactly, it's the water of the womb and we all know that's where that sole bolt is even coming from!

UGH. Also man the difference between your noses is UNREAL, now I'm more worried about that if you procreate than the incest.

-Hahahaha, as expected I'm the only one of this trash family that's in a non-disgusting relationship!

Felina no offense but you could afford to add some drama cause you've become boring af.

-People are sick of all this perverted nonsense! They want someone dignified and happily monogamous!

Ya idk sis, I mean look at Barth dislocating his entire spine as we speak:

-I SENSE BETRAYAL AGAIN. WHO DARES CHEAT ON ME NOW

-JIMMY, BACK IN THE ARMS OF MY COUSIN THAT I RIGHTFULLY STOLE YOU FROM. AND TO THINK I WAS GONNA MARRY YOU WHEN I WON THE HEIRSHIP

-You were??

-OF COURSE NOT

Bro I can't, the entire house hates Barth other than Meadow and her billion nice points and Spice who is his childhood bestie. Note that he and Sunset have that goddamn amour fou and are independently becoming un-enemies, which I'm NOT GONNA LET HAPPEN.

-Ok Barth, let's get drunk and make some reckless and sexy decisions!

SUNSET GODDAMMIT IT

-Why do you keep cockblocking us? You know our kids would be hot!

I DONT CARE

-Ya right! Don't act like you haven't thought about it!

IM NOT LISTENING TO THIS

-You know we would produce a hot, psycho turbo-Union! A little Jojo or Jojette, untainted by non-Union DNA, one freakshow to rule them all!! Look into your heart, you know it to be true!!!

ENOUGH, STOP TRYING TO SEDUCE ME WITH THE PROMISE OF COMICALLY INSANE OFFSPRING, SUNSET. EVERYONE FUCK OFF TO BED RIGHT NOW, GOODNIGHT

-AND GOOD MORNING, LOSERS

WTF. Why are you here we've paid our bills!

-BUT YOU HAVEN'T PAID THE INCEST TAX

-OMG THERE'S A FIRE🌞

-OMG THE REPOMAN IS HERE TO TAKE OUR SHIT

-OMG THE STREAKER KILLED OUR FISH

What??

-I JUST DON'T WANNA ADMIT IM STILL CRYING OVER BARTHOLOMEW

NOOOO NOT OUR BEAR STATUE WE'VE HAD IT SINCE GENERATION 1! PLEASE JUST TAKE ONE OF THE KIDS INSTEAD

-YOU SHOULD HAVE PAID YOUR BILLS

WE FUCKING DID

-PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS WITH YOU FLOPS

FUCK YOU, REPOMAN, WE'RE NOT FLOPS

-WAAAAAAAAH I CAN'T BELIEVE HE TOOK OUR BEAR

Oh great, now half these flops are in aspiration failure, that's just what the doctor ordered.

-OMG AND NOW THE OTHER PLANT IS ON FIRE

BRO WTF IS HAPPENING WE'RE CURSED

-WE ARE AND WE ALL KNOW WHO'S TO BLAME

-HE'S BEEN BAD LUCK SINCE HE WAS BORN

-Can you harpies take this somewhere else, I'm trying to get high here!

-KILL HIM

OK NO. No one's killing anyone, we're NOT cursed, ok?

-We're broke, afflicted with a bills glitch, fires keep starting and half the house is in aspiration failure!

Well let's be real, the broke part is on you.

-US??

You idiots are averaging a D each semester because you're too busy fucking each other, beating each other up or both..

..I mean freaking Jimmy is on academic probation, I have never gotten this before in all the years I've played this game, this is the worst college run of all time.

-WHAT IS YOUR POINT

My point is the bar is in hell so let's just get out of this run alive, ok? Now you kids make nice!

-Well, Failina, now that I'm looking at you up close I guess putting lipstick on a pig does work sometimes.

-For my next move, I'll shove my queen in your other eyehole.

See, now isn't this nice? And I think I figured out what caused the bills thing so everything should be fine now..

-THINK AGAIN BITCH

OH FFS

-I'M HERE TO FREE THIS NEIGHBORHOOD FROM YOUR TERRIBLE SPOKEN WORD POETRY

Ok you know what I'm actually fine with that one, take it- Um do I hear hearts??

UH WHAT????

-THAT'S RIGHT IM IN LOVE WITH KEA FOR NO CLEAR REASON

WTF

-We've been friends for a long time-

You have?? Man I really need to pay more attention around here.

-Yes well you can't help being useless!

Very true! Well please, continue, let me just call someone over-

-YOU LEFT THE HOT TUB OF LUKEWARM LOVE TO CHEAT ON ME???

Man I know, it's so terrible! Anyway-

-HOW DARE YOU BE UPSET WITH ME FOR CHEATING ON YOU

CYAN WTF LOL

-YASSSS BEAT HIS ASS UP BABE HE DESERVES IT

DOES HE?? Cyan you are one crazy bitch, I love it.

-I take after my mom! :D

Which one, they're both insane! :D

-What's it take to get your number? What's it take to bring you home? Hurry up, it's time for supper, order up, I'm hot to go🎵

Alright well Chapell karaoke seals it, Kea, welcome to the family!

-You mean it this time right, you won't fuck me over again like when I was engaged to Sophito?

LOL I forgot about that but no I'm certain this one is gonna work out, unless crazy ass Cyan goes back to one of her cousins

-What?

I said start planning the wedding!

[momotorin]

momos recent post has me thinking… gp ceo momo x ceo sana being like rivals in their industry and hate fucking each other

like sana invites momo over to a huge party she’s hosting in celebration for winning a big award for their company that momo IS PISSED she didn’t get and sana is soooo petty while telling her about how proud she is in her team

so momo ofc being momo brings sana to some bathroom, no one noticing the hostesses sudden leave because hello there are so many people there and momo fucking the shit out of sana while muffling her moans w her hand ;((

i want them both sooooo bad

you're so right for this omg....

stocks!

gp!ceo!momo x ceo!sana

MEN DNI!!

it's the 27th annual kansai tech gala, and the biggest names in japanese and worldwide technologies were in attendance. one of which, minatozaki sana— the president of minatozaki industries, an established technology provider under a new ruling.

speculations say that the minatozaki empire has a new challenger: hirai tech, a start up in kyoto, owned by the hirais and anchored by the ceo— hirai momo.

sana doesn't really understand the weight of the governor's award, since she has a couple of it on the desk alongside national awards that the company has been winning in the past years.

momo, as an aspirant in the tech and business, looks at the award as something significant and a first for her company. if she wins, it'll be something monumental for her as finally, she could bring something at the family dinner table.

with pride and name up on the gamble for the gala tonight, sana can't miss the way that momo's eyes glisten in awe knowing recent tech inventions from other companies.

she should hate her, but why does she need to look that damn attractive with the coat and dress set she's wearing. damn.

as the night deepens, the gala brings out each event, which doesn't really pique sana's interest that much.

what intrigues her was the way momo held her martini.

"lonely night, superstar?" sana greets, teasing the woman as she sits by her side.

"hello, minatozaki," momo feigns a smile. "what brings you here?"

"wanted a breather from all the talk," sana sighed, signaling the bartender to get tequila. "why haven't you been around?"

"dunno, really didn't feel it with everyone," momo shifts her attention to the laughing men at her table. "it's awful and they smell like my dad."

sana laughs, finding momo genuinely adorable at this moment.

"saw that you haven't looked around too," momo mentions, taking another sip from her drink. "what's up with you, minatozaki?"

"didn't feel like it, either," sana chuckles. "can't really fit in with the chatter."

it's always going to be 'oh! the new minatozaki!' and 'oh! the hirai... is that the youngest, with the startup? not doing pretty well, i see..'. comments from these men who talk like their mouth is on their ass.

to say the least, it's suffocating. momo, as much as she hates being in the same room with minatozaki sana, wanted to stay in this bubble of tequila and martini side by side.

sana smiles at her, "you know, you're not so bad yourself."

"why do you say so?" momo chuckled at sana's randomness.

"i mean, this event is limited to tech pioneers only, like look... japan's finest are here," sana teases. "so being here is great already."

"well, that's a good point," momo just sighs. "but you know damn well why i'm here, right?"

"i know that very well, sweetheart," sana, in her head, flusters at the little slip. "but i bet it's me again this year, don't you think so too?"

turns out, she was right.

although momo's sales in record were reaching highs, and her startup gaining Invertors by the day, she still wasn't chosen by the judges at the kansai tech gala.

it was quite the disappointment.

later in the same week, momo accepts an invitation from her assistant to go to minatozaki sana's party with one thing in mind: hatred.

but blame the heavens for making sana much more attractive than any individual to walk on planet earth.

it was a real, full house, with a dj and smashing drinks type of party. momo, alongside her other executives, get drunk on free drinks. momo's head was fucking spinning and she's getting crazy at the fact that she hasn't seen sana yet.

the music stops for a moment, and sana, in all her dramatic glory, enters the stage with a cocktail in hand.

"hope you're having a nice night, everyone!" she was beaming, momo seeing her in that sparkling dress was like the second coming of christ. she can't believe she's saying those words in her head, but momo is already going crazy at the fact that she couldn't even hold sana. "this party," sana sighs, getting herself in a more comfortable position as she stands at the middle of the stage. "we need to have fun and reward ourselves because once again we've won! thank you everyone, thank you to my co-executives, the board, the managers, the staff, and everyone who makes our company great— this night is for you so, enjoy!"

sana gives out a toast to everyone in attendance, and momo just stares at her. not of ill intent, but with some want that only sana can satisfy.

and fuck, the way that dress fitted on sana made momo's stomach churn.

"hey, having a nice night too?" sana greets, teasing her again by tapping her shoulder. "you're smashed, aren't you?"

"probably?" momo says, half drunk and half conscious. "congratulations on the.. everything."

"aw, thanks," sana nudges at her. "glad you're not mad."

"you know what?" momo's tone suddenly deepens as she dismisses the glass off of her hand. "maybe i am mad. i'm mad at the way that you won and you just party. meanwhile, i have other things to worry about because i built my own ground without my parents and now they're shaming me because i didn't get your useless award," momo chuckled lowly, her disappointment in herself, her parents, and everyone was so evident that it broke sana. "so yeah! maybe we do have a problem!"

and fuck, the way momo raises her voice made sana almost wet her dress. she can't deny it, the woman is fucking hot.

"mo-"

before sana even continues her sentence, she gets dragged by the wrist by momo to the club's spacious bathroom, and now, she's pinned against the door, with momo's hands on the sides of her waist, and their breaths just an inch away.

"god," momo smirks, seeing sana's flustered state. "what would they think if they saw you like this, hm?"

"momo, ple-"

"what?" momo teases, running her hands along the exposed back of sana's dress. "look at you," she says, dragging them carefully to make sana look at herself in the mirror. "you wanted this, didn't you?"

"fuck," sana mutters under her breath. "yes, you don't know how much." sana doesn't know what she's talking about anymore. what matters is that she feels momo's hands trail to clasp her hand, interlocking it with hers as she faced momo's eyes.

momo's breath stilled as she kisses sana, hands tightening on her waist to pull her closer and raise her to the marble countertop.

it's all so intoxicating, all so overwhelming; momo doesn't know if she's drunk or she just wants to get drunk on sana and her undeniably delectable vanilla perfume.

"hmm," momo hums, feeling sana arch her back as she leaves marks on her collarbone. "i should've done this during that award night."

"y-you should've," sana stutters as momo slips off the almost non existent strap of her dress from her shoulders, revealing her supple breasts. "oh, fuck, baby." she moans, throwing her head back as momo kneads her other breast and her lips sucks on her nipple.

momo continues to hum, playing with sana's tits to tease her more. sana was so sensitive under momo's touch and that amused her.

"shit," momo sighs as she parts her lips away from sana's breast, seeing sana's blushed out form. "ah, i'm so hard," she laughs, pulling her pants down to reveal her boxers, her 10 inch cock printing on the fabric. sana licks her lips. "want it?"

"yes," sana fidgets with her fingers, but momo took her hand to palm on her length. momo's breath staggered as sana removed her boxers, her hardness springing to her clothed lower stomach. "hmm, so hard for me," sana began to wrap her hand around momo's length, feeling the girth of it, the veins, and momo's budding precum. she swipes her finger above momo's tip, and momo shudders. sana places her finger to her tongue, tasting momo. "you're fucking delicious, baby."

"don-"

"shh," sana says, just pulling momo closer by a kiss as she removes the rest of her dress, revealing her black lace panties. she guided momo's hand above her wetness. "feel how ready i am for you."

momo feels the wet cloth on her hands, and hooks her fingers to remove it from sana. "fuck, you're so wet," momo spreads sana's soaked pussy lips. "you dreamt of this, didn't you?" she kisses sana once more as she slides her length along her wetness, feeling it spread on her cock.

"i-inside please," sana pleads, her arms wrapping around momo's shoulder as momo inserts her length inside her hole. "fuck!" she screamed, feeling momo sink inside of her. "you're going to break me."

"fuck," momo says, pulling her length out of her pussy. "so fucking tight," momo enters again, burying her cock to the deepest part of her walls as sana moaned loudly. "going to fucking break you."

momo held sana by the waist, her thrusts gradually speeding as she felt sana tighten her pussy walls around her. sana was full on screaming that she was sure people could hear them.

"so loud," momo stops for a while as she flips sana over the counter, her ass now facing her as they see each other in the big mirror of the bathroom. "you're so fucked out already," momo teases, holding sana's hair up to relieve her a little. "should i stop, sweetheart?"

"no, fuck," sana sighs, pulling momo closer by tapping her thighs. "fuck me more."

"hmm," momo chuckled lowly, putting her length inside sana's wetness once more. "fuck." she thrusts, feeling sana pulse her walls against her cock. "are you g'nna cum, baby?"

"yes!" sana shouts, and momo pulls on the makeshift ponytail she made for her, making sana arch her back. sana continued to let out screams, as momo pounded her cock inside of her, hitting every spot she hasn't even known before. "fuck, fuck," sana moans, her grip on the marble was tight because of the pleasure. "more!"

"fuck yeah, baby," momo says, pulling sana up for her to be held by the waist. "you're going to make a mess on my cock, hm?" she whispered on sana's ear as she continued to thrust. "look at your pretty face," she says, making sana look at the mirror. fuck. it was so hot; momo's cock going in and out of her, her smudged lipstick, her messy hair, the marks... sana thinks she's never been better. "shit, you're getting tighter, baby? you like that?"

sana just hums, biting her lip down to at least suppress some of her moans because she knows that she has been so fucking loud. it was useless still.

there was a slam from the door, "sana? you there?"

"shit," momo immediately puts her hand on sana's mouth to muffle her moans as she continues to thrust inside of her. "keep quiet, pretty." momo whispered as her other hand made its way to part her pussy and rub her clit. sana screams on momo's hand.

"no," momo loudly answers, her cock still buried inside of sana's tight pussy. "she's not here!"

the person shouts from the outside, "oh, okay."

momo thrusted faster, with the thrill of knowing that someone was outside. sana's grip on the counter was so tight, and her pussy was literally closing up on momo's length.

"you'll like it even when someone catches us, don't you?" momo teases, whispering again as her fingers rub tight circles on her clit, urging her to cum. "fuck, cum."

sana screams on her hand, her cream spreading on momo's cock as momo continues to thrust inside of her, chasing her own high.

"mmgh," sana moans in the sensitivity as momo removes her hand to put on her waist, thrusting inside her pulsing pussy further. "shit- ah," sana reached out for momo's hand, holding it tight for some sort of support. "i'm fucking sensitive, baby, st-"

momo slaps sana's ass, a red mark leaving on her as she trusted, "i don't fucking care," momo growls, her cock already so wet and soaked with sana's juices. "i need to cum inside of you."

"fuck, yes please!" sana screamed as momo's thrusts stuttered, now focusing on hitting her g-spot. sana comes once more, and momo's cock pulsed, white ropes of cum shooting inside of her.

"haah," momo sighs, holding sana close as she feels sana lose balance. she removes her length away from sana's pussy, so wet and trickling with both of their bodily juices. she held sana once more, helping her to get on the marble countertop, making her sit. "wait, fuck," she said, getting a couple of tissues from the tissue box and helping sana clean up their mess. "we made a mess."

"thanks," sana stares at momo, who was cleaning up the inside of her thighs and slipping her panties back on. "you're not as bad as i think you would."

"you really thought that i suck at fucking?" momo laughs, also cleaning her soaked dick before tucking it away inside her boxers.

"you look like a loser, can't help to think that you fuck like one too," sana teases, kissing momo's cheek. "what about... taking this to my place?"

"good offer, champ," momo chuckles, helping sana zip up her dress once more and fix her hair. "but you've got a night to finish."

"oh shit," sana curses at the realization. "how long were we out?"

"like," momo looks down at her watch. "i dunno, 45 minutes? someone was finding you by the door a little while ago."

"ah, alright, they probably wouldn't mind..." sana chuckles, her arms wrapping around momo's shoulders as they kiss once more. "see you next time, loser."

"sure," momo laughs. "g'nna fuck you 'till you break, next time, baby."

[ermnmika]

Dating Dabi headcanons

Because I have a Dabi brainrot and you should too. Enjoy. dabi x villain!gn!reader.

warnings: mentions of smoking, wounds, scars and blood. mentions of dabi's true identity (no details, no spoilers).

a mix of fluff and angst. no NSFW. i tried to make him as canon as possible, but feel free to correct me. also this is fucking huge.

inspired by @chainelunaire's headcanons of dabi, especially the sewing and dealing with the smell parts.

• this man is very unapproachable. he pushes people away, doesn't let anyone near him, doesn't even speak to people unless it's necessary. he has this cold and smug demeanor that pisses a lot of people off, but he doesn't really give a shit. all he has in his heart and head at this moment is revenge.

• let's be honest, when you join the league and you two meet, he doesn't think of it much. in his eyes you're just an ordinary bystander that may help him as an asset to achieve his goals. there's nothing of that love from the first sight shit, not from him, not from you.

• the thing that starts attracting you to him the most is curiosity. after getting acquainted with all the other members of the league, you notice something - dabi is different. he feels different. he’s so closed off that no one really knows much about him, and you never once believed that dabi even is his real name. he discusses the plans, does the job, and then he's gone. even if he is in the room with everyone, he doesn't participate in things, standing in the shadows. he's more like a ghost than a real person.

• it takes some time to notice the subtle signs of communication with other members not regarding villain work. when toga tries to have some fun with him, he only rolls his eyes, telling her to shut up and leave him alone. but, there was this one time that you remember to this day: when you entered the room you were met with toga, sitting on the couch and looking at her reflection from a piece of broken mirror in her hands, while dabi is standing behind her and doing her hair. she somehow managed to get him to give her a new hairstyle and not refuse. you guessed it was because she was a comfort kid in the league, the weak point of all the members, even the most distant ones. you observe him when he's listening to twice rant about something patiently, or him discussing what new design compress could use for his next mask. he’s mostly tense, sometimes smug and easily irritated, but you see the quick glances at members when something snaps and they start arguing, or the way his brows furrow when some of them come back injured from a mission. you know nothing about this man. his likes, dislikes, dreams and aspirations, not even his real name or age. but something about him makes you think there's something more inside his heart than just hate and resentment.

• so you decide to stick by his side. find something about him, anything. and you do. you find out that this man is a walking talking contradiction. his small smug smile, but his empty lifeless eyes - a contradiction. his careless attitude, but his desperate attempts to get rid of the smell of burnt flesh - another contradiction. him keeping his distance, telling everyone to fuck off and leave him alone, but not flinching a bit when the members touch him. another one. you can't keep your smile when you think about it. he isn't the type of person he tries to have the impression of.

• he notices it too - he's very observant since he doesn't talk a lot. notices you. notices your worried glances, your thoughtful gaze, your… staring. since you became a new member he didn't trust you much, because he obviously doesn't trust people that easily. you had to work to get his trust… and you did, not even trying to. you did your work efficiently, you treated other members well, hell, you even played those stupid videogames with shigaraki that he couldn't stand. and you looked at him, not averting your eyes. he had a feeling that sometimes you looked inside him, so deep inside, that it was hard to imagine.

• it slipped past him - the time when he begins to seek your eyes whenever you are together at the bar. when he begins to feel relieved when you come back uninjured, when he doesn't want to leave and keep his distance when you stand close to him. his head, once full of pure and aching rage, his only goal in life, starts to get filled with thoughts of you… and he's terrified. it fucks with his brain and he's so confused.

• he’s fucking dense when it comes to human relationships, but the signs are very clear. he knows that you care, he just doesn't understand why. why would you? he did everything to push people away, and, well… he's hideous. on the outside and on the inside. he’s a terrible human being who got wronged by life, and he didn't want to make yours even worse than it was. the confusion is too constant and irritating. he doesn't understand his own feelings, and he doesn't understand why you would want to be with someone like… him. so he decided to not do anything, not make any difference, and let you realize that he's not the type of person you want to get together with. and when you leave him alone, the feelings will disappear, too.

• but of course, life wronged him once again by not agreeing with his plans. every day it became more suffocating for him to exist in the same space as you. of course, you weren't a pure angel, you had your own cut of crimes, but you were too nice to him. he couldn't stand it. side note: you were actually nice to everyone, it's just that his heart dropped every time you did it to him. he felt stupid, so stupid, he wanted to bang his body against the wall to get rid of this… sappy shit.

• you saw it. you saw the difference, because you kept observing carefully. is this how he reacts when he realizes people can care about him? it was ridiculous, a tiny bit fun, but for the most part very upsetting. at some point you found yourself wanting to get closer, to understand him more, to be… near him. to not leave his side. to protect him. at that moment you realized you fell. you fell pretty hard for this dumb little arsonist.

• months pass, and he makes a stupid mistake of letting you get dangerously close to him and his life. it became a routine - smoking and talking with you on the balcony, even though you don't smoke, taking strolls with you around the bar at night, stealing shit and leaving it “accidentally” for you to take, letting only you treat his wounds after operations (and secretly holding his breath while watching you treat him), subconsciously protecting you on missions, and most of all, feeling almost completely safe in your presence. he hadn't felt safe with someone his whole life, he could confidently say it was the first time. months passed, but it was still terrifying.

• the league members knew too, of course. your mutual attraction was so obvious that no one even questioned it anymore. suddenly dabi starts coming to movie nights which he used to skip, just to sit next to you on the couch and shit on the movie afterwards. he doesn’t even pay attention to it. just thinks about you falling asleep on his shoulder. but it doesn’t happen because you’re worried you’d scare him off with sudden physical contact. since when did his comfort become your priority?

“So,” Mr. Compress calls him, while cleaning an empty glass after one of those nights. “When are you planning to confess?”

“What?” Thought Dabi out loud, dumbfounded. “The fuck do you mean, Compress?”

“I guess it’s still not the right time…”

• the right time arrived when you were almost fatally wounded in a battle against multiple pro-heroes. death was undoubtedly scary, but what was more terrifying was the absolute shock and panic written all over dabi’s face. you had never seen him like this before, and neither had anyone else, because he had forgotten what it feels like to care so much about another human being that he felt like dying inside. he pressed your weak and injured form to himself, not caring about the blood, and covered you with his whole body, carrying you in his arms. he was scared shitless, and you gave all your effort to not lose the grasp on life and survive. you didn't really have anything worth to live for, and after all th things you've done you probably deserved to die, but you loved the league, and you loved him. so you were not to give up.

• there were too many colors and sounds surrounding you, but you had no idea what was going on. you felt so, so exhausted. the world before you started to lose its brightness, and you just wanted to close your eyes for a moment…

He looked at you and his breath hitched. He had to get you to a safe place, now. “Hey, hey, fuck…” He pleaded as he touched your face, trying to wake you back up, voice filled with horror and immense worry. “No… Don’t you dare fucking die on me. You hear me?! If you die I’ll fucking kill you myself.”

• you woke up the next day, all patched up in your apartment and with Dabi by your side. he never left, you thought. you found out he can't cry. he found out he's in love.

“I never asked to be here at all,” he whispered, holding you close, having you in his grip like you're the last drag of air he had left. You buried your head in his neck, his heartbeat almost like a loud drum in your ears. You were so cold, and he was so warm. “So why do I have to face the fear of losing you?”*

• after that it just kind of happened on itself. his fear of losing you overcame his fear of being vulnerable. everyone knew you were together, and they were all glad that you came back to them alive. it felt very… different. things changed. you tried to be as open to him as you could, though it was difficult even for you. you only saw him being vulnerable once, on that day. after that, he still kept his distance, because he needed time to adjust to everything. it was new for you too, so you understood and waited patiently.

• he became very self-conscious since you two got in a relationship. before that he didn't really care what people thought of him, but now he had a person he somehow had to not lose. and he couldn't help not feeling hideous. you were looking, and you saw the scars, and you felt the smell, and you looked inside his burnt heart.

• he couldn't help feeling nervous when he met your curious and… loving gaze. he closed his eyes when you brought his hands to your face and placed gentle kisses every morning you were together because he couldn't handle it. he wasn't used to getting affection, at all. he felt like ripping his body apart, but it also somehow felt good, almost addicting. why couldn't he just crawl into your head to understand your thoughts?

• once he gets used to all the physical affection, it's over for you. he’s not letting you go. once he realizes you actually like feeling him on your skin too, you're stuck with him. this man is a touchstarved lonely loser that hasn't even realized it till now, so he's glued to your body and there's no way out. he basically lives in your apartment now because you didn't want him to stay on the streets, and that means constant hugs, cuddles, kisses and more. you want some time to relax on the couch and read, or watch something on your phone? his head is on your lap, nose sticking into your tummy. if it takes more time than he anticipated, his patience runs out and he falls onto you with his whole body, knocking whatever you held out, and caging you in his grip. if you're making something in the kitchen, he wraps his hands around your waist and kisses the nape of your neck. he also loves having you on his lap, tucked in under a blanket, and he kisses your forehead. makeout sessions on the floor, holding your hand when you're on a rooftop, looking at the stars, groaning and not letting you go in the mornings. you both feel heat rising to your faces in moments like this, because sure, you touched other people, but it was never this… open, vulnerable, genuine and gentle.

• every day he surprises you with how sincere he actually is. dabi the first time you met and dabi in your arms now are like two different people. you find his playful and childlike personality rise up to the surface, replacing the cold and smug one. the moments like these are rare, but very… memorable. you hear him banging on your bathroom door when you're taking a shit because he misses you, and when you yell back, he responds with “y’know babe, i don't mind the smell. you put up with mine, so i can do the same”. or when he keeps losing in a videogame and throws the phone at the corner of the room, and punches a pillow a hundred times. “i can't! how do you fucking do these things? is there a cheat or something?” and you laugh. you laugh, and you laugh, and he thinks it's the warmest feeling he ever felt. so he keeps making you laugh. you feel so loved, because it's only you who sees him like this. it's only you who he trusts this much.

• he tells you he likes sewing. no one really did it for him obviously, and he liked holding onto his clothes, so he had to do it himself, and he actually found it soothing. so whenever you needed something patched up, he picks it up immediately. if you get a hole in your sock, he's on his knees and doing the job. he also loves dancing. he was secretly doing it his whole life, it felt freeing, in a way. and he's become good at it. on some nights he grabs your hand and pulls you into a slow dance, in a dark kitchen with the only lighting source being a lightbulb in the fridge. he doesn't think of this as romance, he never knows what romance actually is, he just does what he thinks you might like. and you like it a lot.

• there are tough times in many relationships, and yours wasn't an exception. we all know dabi isn't the most mentally healthy and stable one. there were times when he regressed back to distancing himself, when the guilt and doubts would eat him alive, and he was gone for days, if not weeks, only coming to your apartment at night through your window, and lying beside you on the bed, bringing you close. you asked him what's wrong, you tried to be there for him, but sometimes it was just unbearable. he can't. he can't tell you. he trusts you, he truly does, but not fully. he doesn't trust anyone fully. so you argue. again, and again, and again. he comes home with bruises and injuries, that you have to tend to, and you find out that his “metabolism issues” that he mentioned in the league was a lie to cover his overheating. you ask him to be careful over and over, but he can't. he has to prepare and achieve his goals. and it's dangerous. he doesn't want to involve you in that shit.

• give him time. it's all that he needs. it hurts both of you, and he hates to see you upset. he thinks that you would leave him because of it, and it scares him to his core. for the first time in his life he allowed himself to let someone get so close, and if you left, he couldn't even imagine what kind of person he would become. if you left, you’d rip out a part of him and leave him completely empty. but he always expected it. always expected you to leave him. because who would want to stay with someone like him? someone so stubborn and selfish, secretive, irritable, cold and… disgusting. so he would understand if you left, but it would hurt worse than the depths of hell he resided in.

• but you don't. you stay. it keeps hurting you, but you still stay. it irritates him, he's confused again, but he holds you close at night, he kisses your fingers, and you stroke his hair, while he's listening to your heartbeat. and then it all spills like blood from his burnt skin. he tells you everything, slowly and carefully, and you feel like you passed some kind of test. it’s ironic for some reason. he tells you about who he actually is, his childhood, everything that got up to this point, his crimes and his plans and goals. you listen attentively, and he looks so… small. open. weak and vulnerable. he looks up at you and waits for a strike. he expects you to get disgusted, to curse him and regret ever falling in love with him, to blame him for all his sins, and finally leave. it's like he went back to being a child that is about to get irreparably broken. but you only sigh, kiss the crown of his head and tell him he should’ve told you earlier. you say that you will go through all of this together, that you won't leave him, not now, not ever.

• he can't believe this. what is wrong with you? it wasn't supposed to be like this. after everything he did you still chose to stay with him. it was ridiculous. you ruined his whole perception of people. that night he kissed you until you were both suffocating. it hurt like a bitch, it ripped your insides. but you decided not to cry. you decided to learn.*

• and so, you kept smoking on the balcony together. you kept taking strolls around the bar at night. you kept coming to movie nights with the league and snuggle under the shared blanket. you kept protecting each other, treating each other's wounds, healing together. you trusted him with your life. he trusted you with his soul and beyond. you were now the most precious thing in this world for him. he even decided to try and not die for your sake. did he forget his initial goals? obviously not. has he obtained a new dream? yes. will he burn this world to ashes for you? yes. will he do anything for you? probably. if you ask well enough.

* a lyric from "the fear of losing this" by florist

* a lyric from "devour" by mr. kitty

in conclusion: he's a touch starved little babygirl that needs attention. not proofread, so i apologize for any mistakes in advance. also, eng is not my first language, so there's that.

[velvetvexations]

The fact that Junior Year didn't at all challenge the way ANY system is set up is insane to me.

In the first half of the season I kept telling people the solution to Adaine's money problems wouldn't be Fabian buying her shit for her, because Brennan - DECOLONIAL PHILOSOPHER THAT HE IS - would never construct a scenario in which the solution to a ruinous lack of funds would be to get your rich friend to pay it off for you. This was just the foundation of my argument that Fabian literally, in-universe, did not have access to enough money to do that, because BLeeM usually plugs those holes and that seemed to be essentially the point of kicking Hilarial and Gilear off-screen for most of the season, but put that aside. The point is, it was clearly a critique of the system.

Right?

Because I assumed the solution would in some way be either changing the system or breaking free of it. Part of Adaine's problem is capitalism in general, but most immediately it's the financial demands the school system makes of her.

And then...the solution is not that. The solution is that she yells at her bosses to start paying her for being the Oracle, and Fabian beats someone in a dance contest so they do it. Problem solved. It's fine that Aguefort, which prides itself to an insane degree about what an anarchic madhouse it is for all the real freaks who want to just reach out and take life by the horns, requires you buy literal barrels of diamonds to be a wizard. That's fine.

The problem was that Adaine didn't have a fortune, not that she needed a fortune in the first place.

And it's wild because exactly that's something I liked about A Starstruck Odyssey. Obviously, Starstruck is an existing IP, and there wasn't a lot of room to just revolutionize galactic society overnight, but thematically it only enhanced the season's thrust to have everyone's problems be tied to money and for them to get past them by inventively striking a fortune. It was essentially taking this mildly grimdark capitalist hellhole and being like "okay, we'll play by your rules, assholes" and by the end it felt like there was a heavy tone of irony to the celebration of The Ball Rolling Up. Like you were meant to notice and be aware that the crew of the Wurst basking in their newfound riches was good for them personally but also a fucked-up reflection on how the setting operates.

And there was little tiny baby steps towards acknowledgement of systemic issues in JY that seemed promising, but all ultimately fizzled out.

Fig being overwhelmed by her responsibilities as a working musician and owner of a part of Hell? She orders her demonic underlings and indentured souls to help her put on a hella sweet concert and she goes quintuple platinum and her old agent is totally seething.

Gorgug is being failed by an educational structure that won't allow and doesn't even want him to succeed in the way he aspires to? Zac rolls insanely well so no he isn't, he's doing great, everyone should take four times the coursework.

Riz has to do a ton of shit to get into college because as a poor person he has to run to where others walk? Jokes are occasionally made about him being in a lot of clubs but that's never once examined or otherwise touched on between the the third and final episode, with the resolution in the epilogue being his mom going "hey kiddo wherever you end up you'll do great, just as long as you get enough sleep and take regular breaks to eat ice cream!".

Fabian trying to live up to the pressure of his legacy and maintaining his social status at school? Bill has a genuinely moving conversation with Fabian in the finale, indisputably one of the highlights of the season and a moment that in spite of everything I found incredibly powerful, where he tells him that he would love him even if he weren't a Maximum Legend, but it ends on "maybe we can have both" because as Brennan himself noted Lou was rolling so well that it was actively strangling the theme of his arc so that it ended up just being Fabian occasionally feeling a bit frustrated about the pressure while effortlessly succeeding to the point that not even Fig's catastrophic bardic put a dent in his popularity could have been an interesting exploration of tragic imposter syndrome, but it felt more like they were trying to stick to an expected "Fabian has to struggle with fluctuating popularity" plotline without really examining the contradiction.

Kristen failing cleric class? Kristen deserved to fail cleric class.

The issues with Fabian and Gorgug's arc was just luck and a flaw in the downtime mechanic. The others went deeper and man I really wish more had been done there.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Febuwhump Day 7 - Suffering in Silence

LU in Healthcare! Feat. Warriors and Legend, PTSD and difficulties with empathy and difficult patients

XXX

Warriors rolled his eyes as he heard the patient yelling.

Legend shot him a bemused, somewhat disconcerted look. "Look, I get people can be dramatic, but he is hurting."

"He bruised his hip," Warriors snapped. "I've seen the films. Literally nothing is broken. He has no medical history to denote that this is aggravating something that already exists. And he's screaming for the entire ER to hear. He needs to suck it up. I gave him an ice pack to hold him over until the pain meds get verified by the pharmacist, I'm not denying him anything, but this is excessive."

"Yes," Legend agreed as the man screamed again, making people pause and turn their heads. "It is excessive. But maybe he's never had a bruised bone before. They hurt. He's in pain. People express pain differently."

"Obviously," Warriors grumbled, rubbing his forehead as a headache developed with another yell from the room.

Legend watched him, his eyes becoming more discerning. "Link... just because you've been through some serious shit doesn't mean everyone else should understand that. I... I get that the military makes you build a tolerance, but not everyone goes through that."

Warriors paused, closing his eyes and trying to regulate his breathing as the patient hit the call bell.

"I... look, I can tell you're angry, and I can't really... understand why, but--"

"Because people here get to just make demands and expect us to wait on them hand and foot when others are dealing with so much worse and never ask for such things," Warriors snapped before he could stop himself.

Yes. This patient was in pain. Yes. He would treat said pain. It was cruel not to do so. But that wasn't the issue, it was the entitlement, the demands that came with it. I'm in pain, I can't reach something that's within reach. I'm in pain, give me food. Why can't I get fucking food? My mouth is so fucking dry and you're denying me that?! Warriors had heard it again and again, had explained multiple times to multiple people that if someone is going to get surgery they can't ingest anything or they might vomit and aspirate during surgery, he'd seen a grandmother with a broken hip politely deny pain medication and apologize for even needing to be there while others like this one made sure to let the entire world know he had a bruise.

Fuck. Warriors chewed on his lip. Civilian life was certainly different.

Legend huffed mildly. Although the army nurse expected some snippy remark, his friend instead bounced his eyebrows briefly and looked away. "Yeah, I get that." But then the travel nurse looked back at him, holding eye contact. "But you can't take it out on him."

He's still a person. He still deserves respect. He's in a rough spot and you know it.

Warriors sighed and nodded, walking away. He needed space to calm down, somewhere he couldn't hear the screaming.

The screaming. The agonizing screaming of his brothers-in-arms as they lost legs, as they bled to death with nothing he could do about it. The patient's yells pitched higher, morphing into a woman's yells instead, and Warriors felt his heart stop. His world shifted, he wasn't in an ER anymore, not in Castle Town, not in--

"Hey, looks like pharmacy verified the med," Legend said from the nurses' station. "I'll give him the medicine, okay?"

Warriors swallowed, leaning against the wall, counting to ten over and over and over. "Yeah. Okay."

[ivystoryweaver]

Decadent chapter 2

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Summary: Your first week on the job with Miguel

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara from the film Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse x female reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings/notables: AU story. 18+, cursing, smut, p in v, masturbation, handjob, it gets messy, workplace nonsense, use protection people! a brief moment of throat squeezing. not beta'd we die like everyones uncle ben... mentions of blood. a mention of violence and death

PREVIOUSLY on Decadent...

Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook those thoughts from his head. It was next-level annoying to have super powers at his disposal but still feel like shit half the time.

Blood was the key.

But in sustaining his body, he felt he was losing his soul.

He smelled you coming off the elevator.

New blood.

Fuck, he was hungry. He should have just fed last night. Then he wouldn't be distracted by--

"Miguel, your new assistant is here," LYLA chimed.

Miguel nodded to the hologram figure of his artificially intelligent assistant. "Thank you, Lyla. Send her in."

"I hope you're not attempting to replace me," Lyla voiced. "My capabilities are--"

"Yes, yes, I know," Miguel huffed. "She's not here for that. She's working on her doctorate and needs some practical--"

"Experience. Yes, I'm aware."

"Do not interrupt me," Miguel chided. "Just...send her in."

Miguel was a man who had no trouble getting a date. He didn't hire you for your looks. But damn if you didn't take his breath away as you scurried into his office, dressed to kill.

"Mr. O'Hara," you cheerily intoned, smoothing your sleek suit before extending your hand. "What an honor to meet you in person."

"Pleasure," he smoothly returned, taking your smaller hand in his while minding the retraction of his talons. "I've been anxious to meet you. We have a lot of work to do."

He shouldn't have touched you. Miguel rarely touched anyone unless he needed something specific from them. The blood temptation was too intense, and between talons and fangs and super strength - well it was better to just not bother.

Outside of the bedroom, he was sure he hadn't even hugged or held anyone since his daughter died... Better that way.

So the soft skin of your hand, so confidently extended - the gentle squeeze of your fingers as you smiled up at him beautifully - it made him jerk his hand away abruptly.

His eyes, which you noticed were dark red? in person, roved freely down your figure as if sizing you up, rather than checking you out. As his gaze returned to yours, you wondered how he managed red irises. They had looked light brown on your video call.

"You have excellent taste, but I’m afraid you’re overdressed," he voiced, turning his back to you as if he were busy with 100 other things. "I think you'll find that the work we do lends itself to a lab coat and goggles. I’ll see that you get some."

"Of course, sir," you swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. So much for a first impression. You would just have to impress him with your mind instead.

Hearing you call him sir sent a jolt of desire through his body.

You were a little caught off guard by the pierce of his crimson gaze as he turned back to you - and by the massive span of his broad shoulders. He was far more handsome in person, but you quickly reminded yourself that you were here for his brilliant mind.

"Let’s take a look then, shall we?"

Your first day in the lab completely blew you away. Miguel's intelligence somehow exceeded his good looks, and the two of you fell into an easy rhythm. He admitted to you that he had hired you because of your specific theories on genetic coding an gene splicing.

"I've read all your papers," he admitted, "and studied your coursework, all the way back to high school."

You were floored. You might as well have been an aspiring songwriter hearing that their favorite artist wanted to record their song and sing it as a duet.

What Miguel didn't tell you was that he was looking for someone specific. Someone with your intelligence and specialties, but someone...pure. Someone uncorrupted by mega corporations, or too much success or money. Someone young and eager, whose ideas on genetics lined up with his own. He needed someone to eventually help him get rid of his affliction.

He didn't want to drink blood anymore. He didn't want to be Spider-Man anymore. After all his dark deeds, after losing his little girl - he only wanted to see if he could ever be human again.

Unfortunately...or perhaps fortunately, the mutual attraction between the two of you filled the air with questions for him. He could see the effect he had on you, and he was pretty certain that resisting the softness of your smile, the angles of your face - the curve of your body ... it would be a losing battle for him.

He wanted you.

The two of you didn't last a week.

Longing gazes lingered, hands "accidentally" brushed. Complimenting one another's intelligence finally led to remarks that really weren't quite suited to the workplace.

You weren't an idiot. Suspecting Miguel had likely slept his way through his entire staff, you assumed that giving in to this burning in the center of your chest (and between your legs) would make you a name on a very long list. But you were a modern woman. You could fulfill your desires without it reflecting on the quality of your work. Hopefully Miguel would feel the same.

The tension while working together became unbearable and you really started to believe that relieving that tension would actually help your progress in the lab.

The thing you loved most about being around Miguel was that, inside the lab, he was all business. A reputation for being demanding and condescending aside, he really did treat you like an equal. He listened, he challenged you and he did not flirt or make anything personal. In the lab, there was only the science. You felt free to express your ideas without feeling inferior or objectified.

In his office, however, his desires were quite clear - a little more each day.

"You look stunning today." Your third day.

"Come take a look at this, will you?" Your fourth day. He beckoned you around his desk, prompting you to lean over to peer at the screen he'd been studying. Your side pressed against his thickly muscled arm. Your face was close enough to brush up against his cheek. What you wouldn't give to climb across his lap and sink your fingers into his dark waves.

"I thought I told you not to dress up." Your fifth day. You wore a skirt and explained to him that you could still dress professionally under your lab coat. You liked to dress nicely and, honestly, you wondered how he would react. His scarlet stare fixed itself on your legs the entire day.

"You're so beautiful I can't think straight." Your sixth day. Miguel had thought that he would get your gorgeous legs off his mind by draining a criminal over the weekend. Today he was well fed, but it did nothing to lessen his desire to have you. If you planned to tell him to fuck off, or otherwise reject his advances, he'd rather know sooner rather than later. The tension was killing him.

"How do you think I feel?" You fired back cheekily. "I have a thing for shoulders. And dark hair. And jaw lines."

"I have a thing for legs," he darkly responded, easing out of his office chair and stalking toward you. "Can't stop thinking about how yours would feel wrapped around me."

"Can't stop thinking about how you would feel between mine," you shot back as he rushed forward, scooping you up to do just what he said. Your back hit the wall with a thud as he pulled your shapely legs around his waist, pressing himself against you.

"Best not to tease me like that, hermosa," he growled, pinning you in place with his hips while pushing up your skirt, his thick fingers caressing your thighs.

Hooking your heels into the round shape of his ass, you rolled your hips against him. "I don't tease when I want something this bad."

"Fuck," he gasped out, your delicious body writhing in his arms - your beautiful eyes just begging him to take you. "Better be sure, baby." Even as he asked for permission, he helped you hop down just long enough to yank down your lace panties while you pulled open his pants.

Shoving things out of the way and pulling him free, you let out a little whine at his sheer size. Grasping his hand, you guided his fingers to your center, rubbing your wetness over his knuckles.

"I'm sure," you panted.

"Careful," he chided, swiftly pulling his fingers away. He hadn't exactly explained his retractable talons to you. They wouldn't hurt you as long as he concentrated on keeping them down. But as you stood there, flushed and panting, soaking wet, he wondered if he would be able to keep his concentration in tact.

Frowning, you peered up into his ruby eyes. Didn't he want this?

"Come here," he breathed, lifting you right back up to where you started, but this time, as he pulled your gorgeous legs around his waist, he used one hand to guide his hard length between your wet folds - rubbing himself up and down, just feeling you. Shuddering at how hot and wet you felt on his tip, he somehow managed to control himself just a little longer.

Pushing the tip of his cock over your clit, he felt your wetness mingle with his. He grinned wolfishly as you hissed in pleasure.

"M-Miguel, god, please," you moaned, the sound of it sending desire thundering through his body. Lining his cock up with your center, he pushed inside, all the way in, and stopped.

Your body was suspended there against his office wall, held in place by his hands gripping your thighs and his thick cock shoved up inside you. But he didn't fucking move.

Your hands gripped his muscular arms, attempting to pull yourself forward, or use gravity's advantage to plunge you down - something to feel some friction.

"Wh-what are you--"

"Look at me," he darkly ordered, squeezing your hips to almost a painful point.

You complied, but he still didn't move - his scarlet stare burning you alive as his thick, dark hair tumbled across his forehead carelessly.

"This is how I feel between your legs," he gruffly teased, reminding you of your flirtatious words from several moments ago. "Tell me what it feels like."

God, you felt like an insect caught in a spider's web. If you only knew how apropos that analogy was.

Pressing one strong hand to your lower abdomen, he pushed down firmly. "Tell me," he growled, his playful disposition dissipating.

"Just like I imagined," you panted. "Thick. Hot."

He groaned.

"I feel so full of you, Miguel." You squeezed your inner thighs against his torso, using that leverage to manage a small thrust.

How he was able to hold his shit together was beyond you. He hadn't even fucked up into you yet and you were about to come, mostly clothed, against the wall.

Pushing the hand on your abdomen up over your breast, he squeezed, then moved all the way up to your throat. He didn't apply pressure, but just the thought of it made you moan again.

"Love the sounds you make, hermosa. I'll make it good for you," he darkly whispered, giving your throat the faintest squeeze. "But I'm so bad for you."

Letting out an embarrassing whine, your head thumped back against the wall. He was driving you insane.

"What do you want?" you pleaded, digging your heels into his ass impatiently. "You want me to beg?"

"I just want you to understand," he purred against your cheek, his hot breath making you shiver with want. "I want you to be sure."

No. You weren't going to beg. Not today.

"Then let me down off this wall and I'll show you I understand." You stared right into his glowing eyes, locking your arms behind his neck. If you had to push him down and ride him hard, you would. But you had to have him now.

Apparently, he agreed.

Easing both hands back down to your thighs, he began to fuck you...slowly. You found his sudden switch so tender that you were sure he would kiss you...but he didn't. Instead, he breathed hotly on your ear.

"Wanted this...you...from the first second you walked in that door."

The rate of his deep thrusts quickened slightly - the power of his solid body and thick cock easily bucking you like a doll.

"Gonna try not to hurt you. Want to fuck you so hard," he panted, every jolt of his hips, juust a little deeper, faster.

"Please." Now you were begging. You didn't care. "I want you to. I need you to."

You thought, then, that he would start mercilessly pounding into you, but he didn't. Pulling away from your ear, he gazed down into your eyes, loving the way your lips fell apart as you gasped for air. If only he could kiss you. But his fangs were not retractable and he could really hurt you. No, kissing was something he never, ever did.

Kissing was for lovers and no one could love him. Not the real him - the spider. The monster.

So he buried his face in your neck, pumping just a little faster.

Mistake. Fuck, your blood smelled good. He jerked away quickly, deciding it was better to stare down at you and watch you fall apart, rather than tempt himself with his mouth on your throat.

He was right about working you up slowly, going a little faster and harder with each thrust. He was pretty sure you would be expecting him to hammer you into the wall, but he wasn't a college freshman. He knew how to make your beautiful body fall apart.

The two of you had worked up a delicious pace, bouncing together against the wall, the sound of slapping skin and harsh pants music to his ears.

Just a little more speed, and a slight tweak of his hips to see if he could just find the perfect spot...

"Yes, yes, Miguel, right there. Right there," you gasped, gripping his solid biceps once more as you started to bounce wildly.

"Knew you would look so pretty like this," he growled, pushing the palm of his hand down over your mound. The force of his length inside you combined with the heel of his hand roughly rubbing just where you wanted pressure made you shriek in pleasure.

"Don't stop," you begged, heat flaring up your torso and over your neck, punching gasps and whines from your throat. Buzzing, searing, thrilling pleasure twisted through your body, until a wave of rapture pulled you under like a rip current. Pleasure surged through every part of you, from your fingertips down to your curling toes.

Miguel had expected to work you up and watch you come before he finished, but he wildly underestimated how your tight cunt would feel gripping him as you came. He gushed inside you before he could even think to pull out, groaning at the wet mess the two of you made together.

Pulling out of you suddenly, he turned away and stuffed himself back into his pants, leaving you there - skirt bunched around your hips and the heat of him slipping down your inner thighs.

"Shouldn't have done that," he voiced aloud, reaching down to grab your panties as some sort of weak offering. "We have to be more careful."

You thought he meant the sex. Or perhaps the noise you both made.

But he knew he shouldn't have done that. Not without you knowing the risks of who - what - he really was. His...genetic material was not something to mess around with.

Grabbing your panties out of his hand, you shoved your skirt down, feeling a little foolish. You knew this would just be a bit of fun for him - a quick fuck with new assistant - but you didn't expect to be scolded the moment he finished inside you.

Whatever. At least if felt good.

Seeing he had made you uncomfortable, Miguel reached for your arm. "You can clean up in my private bathroom," he said softly, nodding toward a small door you'd yet to go inside.

Rolling your eyes, you did just that, feeling humiliated. Oh well. You had really put yourself in this position.

As soon as you shut the bathroom door, Miguel sighed, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. He had hoped that giving in to the sexual tension between you would make things easier. It was inevitably going to happen at one point or another anyway. He thought maybe he could just douse the spark you two shared.

Being inside you was gasoline on a flame.

You exited the bathroom a few minutes later, your irritation thinly cloaked under the sheen of professionalism. Without even looking at him, you rattled off a few questions about a hypothesis you'd been thinking through.

If Miguel wanted to be all business, then you would oblige.

You amazed him - how easily you could switch modes from vigorous sex to brilliant hypothesizing. It was just as enticing as your gorgeous legs or beautiful mouth.

He couldn't concentrate - it was the first time you had been all business and he had been distracted. Well, did he want to work or did he want to play? Maybe the two of you should head to the lab to get some real work done.

"What are you staring at, Miguel?" you impatiently huffed.

"You," he quickly and openly answered.

"Why? I thought we 'shouldn't have done this'," you quoted him.

Then he understood.

"Wait, no. Come here," he beckoned you over to his desk, where he was seated.

You hesitantly complied. "What?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized, peering up at you. Reaching for your hand, he pulled you to stand between his legs. "I wanted to do...what we did. I never want to stop doing it," he confessed. "I just...I should have talked to you before I...finished like that."

Ohhh. That's what he meant. Well, fair point.

"You're right," you agreed, raking your fingers through his dark hair. "I guess we got a little carried away."

He rested his forehead on your stomach, pulling you close. "I didn't mean to, I...you felt so good. So fucking good." Pulling back, he gazed up at you hungrily. "You have no idea the things I want to do to you. The things I could do." His strong hands had wandered from your hips around to trace the curve of your ass.

"Even now, I want to...already...again."

Without asking, he roughly turned you around, using his hands to push your skirt up your thighs - again - while pulling you down on his lap. With your back to his chest, he spread your thighs wide, slowly starting to thrust his hardening length against your ass.

"Miguel," you whispered, completely ready to be putty in his hands. So much for getting work done.

He growled in frustration, but you took it as desire. The two things he wanted to do right now were difficult for him - he wanted to kiss your neck and finger you until you came. He needed to show you how good he could make you feel, but he couldn't. Not like that.

If his mouth went anywhere near your neck, especially while he was hard, he wasn't sure he could continue keeping his fangs from piercing your soft skin. Or his talons safely retracted. He was used to the things he couldn't, or shouldn't do to a woman, but you made him want to do exactly those things. Even the thought of laying you across his desk and eating you out was too dangerous - not until you knew more about the creature he was.

Obviously, he found ways around these things from time to time, but there was no way he was going to risk hurting you. If he somehow scared you away...well that was just not an acceptable option. Not professionally, and now he was starting to think he didn't want to lose you on a personal level either.

"I want you to touch yourself," he finally whispered on your ear, "while you bounce on my cock."

All you wanted to do was turn around and kiss him hard and then give him what he demanded. You wanted to ride him until he came inside you again.

But he held you in place.

"Show me," he purred, pulling your panties aside, deviously using one talon to slice them free of your body.

You moaned, thinking he had ripped them.

Rubbing your ass against his erection, you slid two fingers between your folds, making a show of masturbating for him. "I'll show you, Miguel. I'll show you what I do in bed at night when I think of you fucking me."

"Oh fuck," he growled, pushing you over on the desk long enough to shove his pants back down. Reaching for your hips, he gripped you firmly, pushing you down on his cock.

Letting out one of the little whines he already loved to hear so much, you did not do the slow and steady game he had played with you up against the wall.

Obediently, you rubbed firm circles over your clit and started to bounce.

Gasping, Miguel had to restrain himself from shredding the rest of your clothes with his talons. Instead, he worked open the buttons of your blouse and pulled it off your arms before unclasping your bra. Your breasts sprang free, bouncing freely as you worked yourself over his cock, there in his lap. Your fingers returned to your clit, pleasuring yourself.

"Look at you, using me like this," he panted. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, he watched your little show. Sliding his hands up your soft stomach, he fondled your tits, rolling your nipples carefully between his fingers. "Take what you want, baby."

Putting on a show for him made you fucking feral. Gripping the edge of his desk with one hand, you leaned slightly forward, vigorously riding him, and furiously rubbing yourself. It only took you a few more seconds to come on his cock, panting and moaning his name.

Miguel dug his talons into his thigh to keep from joining you - determined to feel you tight and wet around him. He let you finish and felt you go limp in his arms - biting his lip as he stilled his hard length inside you.

Remembering what he had just explained to you, you eased off his cock, shifting over to his bare thigh. He groaned as your wet pussy and slick thighs soaked his leg.

"Let me take care of you," you panted, sliding one arm behind you, up into his dark curls, while the other hand eased over to his hardened shaft. Teasing the tip with your thumb, you felt his breath on your cheek. He hissed when you moved your hand down to his balls, toying with them with your fingertips.

A string of Spanish curses fell on your ear as you dragged your hand up and down, twisting your wrist and rolling your thumb over his tip deliciously.

"Talk to me, Miguel," you softly ordered, halting your motions. You needed some feedback.

"Fuck, don't - don't stop," he husked, his hand joining yours to jerk him off. It took him a little bit longer than the first time, but as his warmth coated your hand, running down your wrist, you realized that working with Miguel could end up being a lot of fun.

@deputy-videogamer

next->

[olderthannetfic]

Honestly, instead of (only) blaming the author… I'd rather like to ask: What the fuck was the publisher thinking? And where the fucking was the sensitivity reader? I constantly see talks about sensitivity readers for books with controversial and historical and cultural content, especially it features front and center. So where was one?

Let's pivot for just a moment here.

The publisher is Random house, which does have a catalogue of queer and poc writing. With how much shit these two groups experience in publishing, you'd expect there to maybe be extra support or something, at least when it comes to putting the metaphorical foot in your mouth after stepping on a figurative controversy landmine.

Why the fuck did they let any of that slide, and only NOW doing damage control? Did they think that Oh the author's Chinese, why bother? There are several parts that hit you during reading, and this should have been caught, and either been removed or edited to not turn into a complete pitfall. Don't make me mention the advertising.

I've literally never met a person who knew everything of their own ancestral history, or was completely accurate in what they knew. Even people who've lived through history don't know everything. Why do people believe that immigrants do? Speaking from personal experience as well.

I personally don't even think it's bad she wanted to write about that, and did it for her family.

But wasn't there a moment they went: Ok... wait. We respect you wanna write this, but... this could really end badly because of the actual historical weight. How about we have a few history and sensitivity readers check it over? Maybe the act of human experimentation of your own people shouldn't be put in a scenario where the FMC immediately after thinks about wanting to kiss the lips of the green eyed guy ordering said experimentation. Maybe it isn't going to work that well if you already told people that this is based on the real historical slaughter of humans in the 1930-40's?

Where was the editor in this? The sensitivity reader? Was there no one who said, ok wait stop. Is this written in a way that doesn't completely crash the car?

I just wanna take the publisher and shake them. I want to shake them and tell them that nobody's infallible, and that yes, even writing about your own history, culture and ancestry can end up with a lot of bullshit when you don't know better. What's the point of a publisher if they help you when it's too late to fix it? Ancestral history also doesn't mean you have free reign, and everyone else, your people included, shouldn't get an opinion. This isn't someone writing a name wrong by a letter, or accidentally writing the wrong dish as the national dish of a country. Where the fuck was the publisher in all this? Especially for a debut author!!!

God, fuck publishers for real.

--

I'm not really up on what's going on behind the scenes at big publishers these days, but I have the impression that one of their tactics in recent decades is just to find a lot of very youthful debut authors who will feel aspirational for the target audience (while also inciting a lot of jealousy, naturally), do very minimal editing of their manuscripts, and let anybody who doesn't hit it out of the park on the first try disappear into obscurity.

[mythsandheather]

Because I already brought this up on Reddit, let’s talk about it here too.

LONG POST ABOUT HADES, HERA AND AVOIDING ACCOUNTABILITY LIKE THE PLAGUE INCOMING.

Persephone knows that Hera and Hades had a thing now, right? So after guilt tripping herself all day for feeling insecure, they finally talk about it. Hades admits to having feelings for her once. Feelings, let’s be specific. He hasn’t yet said they had a relationship or a centuries long affair behind Zeus’s back.

Persephone, as any sensible person would, asks a very fair question. Let’s ignore how disconcerting she looks for a second.

Now the response any normal fucking person would give here would obviously be “no”, right? Or some variation. “No, I’m not.” “No, we’re just friends.” “No, that’s in the past and I love you.”

That’s the normal, reasonable, acceptable response…but this is Lore Olympus. So naturally Hades doesn’t do that.

“Let me just preface this” oh I just know I’m about to hear some male manipulator bullshit. All that shit he just said when he could have simply said “no”. Also, why the pause?

Never fails to make me laugh how LO Hera is supposed to be this glamorous, sympathetic, strong, aspirational figure that Persephone and the audience alike should revere, when all she is is a racist, classist, deadbeat parent and chain smoking drunk whose primary hobby seems to be putting on too much mascara just so she can cry it off every other chapter.

Also, Hades, if you had a lot of respect for Hera, you wouldn’t be telling Persephone all her business without her knowledge or consent.

JUST SAY NO YOU ANTISEMITIC LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER.

What does that even mean? “What we are now is a ghost of what we used to be.” What a weirdly vague yet specific choice of words.

What did you used to be? Hades never says what they were or how long it went for and he still never fucking says it’s over. Now it’s just…a ghost? What’s that then, Papa Smurf?

Are you still haunted by this relationship? Is it like a ghost in the sense it’s going to come back cuz that’s what ghosts do? Cuz I’m not hearing “that phase is completely done”, I’m hearing “this phase is on pause and will most definitely be picked up on again the second the opportunity presents itself”. 

Like I said, it’s such a weird, specific choice of words.

To quote Mabel “Madea” Simmons, “look at him try to throw it on you now. It’s like if he tries to get Persephone to engage and agree with him, then it’s all okay and he’s successfully excused himself and distracted from the question at the same time.

First, a couple of petty things. One, look at how wonky his eyes are. Those were adjusted last minute and you can see it. Also his hairstyle changed with each panel. 

Second, there have always been a lot of immortal beings around. At the specific time we’re talking about back when Hera and Hades first got together, for example, there was already a whole mess of chthonic gods running around. There were nymphs, satyrs and other immortal creatures that were and are perfectly viable dating options. 

Hades just so happened to want the woman who was dating his brother and banging his dad, and Persephone just so happened to get involved with two of her cousins and then marry her uncle.

This whole “the immortal dating pool” comment feels like a disclaimer to avoid the fact that, try as she might to avoid it, Rachel ended up right back in the incest pit that all Greek mythology adaptions inevitably try to avoid yet fall into in the end.

I’m also not going to pretend that these two having such a limited word view on dating options doesn’t stem from the fact that they think basically everyone else is inferior to them.

But, in conclusion, Hades was asked a fair question that required a one word answer. One word, two letters…and he could not do it. 

Instead we get dragged on this purple prose wannabe, “I’m 14 and this is deep” diatribe that barely skims the surface of what his entanglement with Hera really was. Immediately following this, Hades goes on to explain Hera’s golden traitor title and her history with Kronos. This is also the infamous chapter where he claims Zeus has no trauma.

He was more comfortable discussing his father abusing and then brutally maiming Hera, and more comfortable minimising what happened to his brothers, than he was just saying “no, I don’t love Hera anymore”. 

Rachel does this for Hades a lot. Hades is, at least in my opinion, not one of the more interesting greek deities and the fact he’s the male lead of LO and her celebrity crush’s insert means she feels the need to beef up how important, how powerful, how desirable, how vulnerable, how lonely, how angry, how complicated he is, but does not possess the skill to do so.

So she writes herself into a corner and the mountain of evidence for Hades being a fucking awful person gets bigger. 

For example, as we just saw, Hades had a thing with Hera. He’s soooo sexy and so hot and so kind and so perfect and so irresistible and desirable that even Hera can’t resist him! But wait! Making Hades and Hera have a centuries long affair behind Zeus’s back and with Hades going into another relationship where he cheats on his current girlfriend, Minthe, with Persephone, doesn’t reflect well on poor daddy Hades! What to do??

The simple and logical route, other than just not having the stupid affair in the first place, is for Hades to just admit he made a mistake and he regrets it and is trying to do better. But wait! Daddy Hades is a complicated and edgy bad boy…but he can’t actually do anything bad cuz he always has to be in the right! 

So instead of ever admitting he’s wrong, god forbid he do that, let alone apologise, every time we get treated to what a piece of shit he is and the consequences of his bad actions and Rachel’s bad writing, we get tormented with more faux-deep prose that’s meant to paint him as a helpless lonely victim and remove any blame from him, while conveniently always minimising and dismissing someone else’s suffering.

I’d kill to see what sad, poetic, overly-wordy garbage he spins when he inevitably cheats on Persephone with Hera, because this whole exchange all but screams that the door is very much still open.

Persephone felt bad about herself for being insecure by the chemistry and contact that Hera and Hades still have, because how could she even think of misjudging poor dear Hades? IMO, she’s not worried enough. Homegirl is already on her way to ending up where Minthe was.

[bijouxcarys]

I didn't have anywhere else to kind of talk about this, and I need to get it out of my system somehow, so I'm just putting this on here. Maybe someone can relate to it?

TW/ self-harm, suicidal ideology, please don't read this if it's going to potentially trigger you.

If you don't think this will trigger you, I still suggest you read on. Anyone around you could be experiencing this right now, and it's a very real thing.

Here's the reality of living as an adult with autism, who wasn't diagnosed until the age of 18.

It fucking sucks. To put it mildly.

Growing up as an undiagnosed autistic child is difficult. Especially if you are beaten down verbally by everybody to the point where you believe that you are, in fact, a bad kid. I'm convinced that's had a hand in why I'm so paranoid about my relationships with people. If I'm doing something to upset or annoy them.

You spend your entire childhood being told that you're the problem, when you're just trying to fucking survive in a world that's hard enough to live in without the added stress of developmental disorders, and you're going to believe for the rest of your life that you're the problem.

That is, unless you're able to go and see a therapist or counsellor.

Which leads me to my next point: we are conditioned to believe that we aren't allowed to ask for help, because we can never take on the advice anyways! 18 years of being told that I'm being dramatic, by my own counsellor as well, definitely dampens your willingness to attend any kind of talk therapy.

You get trauma building up over time from the rejection sensitivity, the amount of friend groups you plow through, the anxiety and depression that come as a result of how your brain is wired. It's not even that you have depression or anxiety; a lot of the time, they are symptoms of our autism. But they don't care. They'll feed us antidepressants.

I've been on antidepressant medication for a long time now. I'd argue about 6 years. I'm 22 now, on 200mg of sertraline daily. Last year I tried to come off my medication. Big mistake. Realised I'm kind of fucked without it.

Back in 2019, I used to take my antidepressant in liquid form because I had a sensitivity to swallowing pills. One day, my inability to read social cues and communicate effectively with my friends led me to drink the whole bottle of Fluoxetine.

When you're undiagnosed with autism and you have to go through regular life every day, it's damaging. So dangerous to the mental health of the child. The more we are put in situations that can overstimulate us, and overwhelm us, the more it takes from your ability to cope with life. You get beaten down, and beaten down, and beaten down, until you're an emotionless entity wandering the Earth with no solid ambitions or aspirations. You've spent your entire life in defense mode, mirroring everyone's behaviour and personalities so that you feel the tiniest bit "normal" out of pure survival, that you lose a sense of who you are as a person. You feel stripped of your personality. You don't know what you're doing.

Then you get thrust into the real world. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I don't know how to survive in a world that isn't made for me. I don't know how to tell people I'm autistic, because a) they very rarely understand what I mean by that, and what it entails, and b) I don't even know enough about my autism.

Why? Because I wasn't diagnosed until just before I turned 18 - got discharged from CAMHS (Child and Adolescence Mental Health Service) once I turned 18, with no referral to a counsellor that could help me, and no information on what the fuck I should do next.

I've stayed in education because it's the only thing I know how to survive. I went to college, university, and now I'm doing a master's degree online. And I still don't really know what my goal is in life.

I have no friends, and I flip-flop between being upset about it and being absolutely fine with it. I don't leave the house, I don't work, I even struggle to do the most basic of daily tasks.

I'm constantly fantasising about a life I could have, but ultimately realise I can't have.

My brain is fucked up, and I am traumatised by the life I've had to live and survive in. And now I'm stuck in survival mode.

And I don't know how to live, instead of simply exist.

That's where the suicidal ideology comes in. I'm constantly thinking about how much easier everything would be if I did just off myself. But the thing is, I'm not actively planning it, but the thought brings me great comfort. There's always a way out. And I can't expect that I'll leave this world any other way.

Now... when an autistic person, or any person, tells you that they don't want to die, but thinking about killing themselves brings them a sense of comfort and contentment... there's something wrong there.

There's nothing I want more than to start living. But when it takes 110% of my energy to do the bare minimum... living becomes synonymous with existing.

Not being taught how to deal with the meltdowns, the overstimulation, the understimulation, the food sensitivities, the way the world functions... has fucked me up, for myself, and for everyone else around me.

And when given the choice between spending the rest of my life putting all my energy into living the way I do now, and killing myself and saving myself from the pain, the latter sounds far more enticing.

I don't want to die. But to live is too much of an enigma to want anything other than the silence.