#anyway….. i will say sorry to my followers for posting about it a lot though..
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dellamortte · 2 months ago
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can’t stop thinking about lucanis dellamorte…….. i am completely and utterly besotted with him…. so in love with my babygorl
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todayisafridaynight · 9 months ago
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I’m fairly new to the fandom, but I do have a question if you can answer it! Why do people ship Daigo with Aoki / Masato? I tried looking to see if they’ve interacted before, but couldn’t find anything! Sorry for asking I’m just </3 dumb AND I LOVE YOUR ART OF THEM!!! Nerd looking ahhhhhh
hi ! welcome to the community i hope you're having a lovely time so far and ty for enjoyin my stuff :) no need for apologies it's a very fair question to have :]
i cant speak for everyone (all. ten people into masadai anyway) but Personally To Me i just think the idea of them together is very funny. thats quite literally it im afraid..
#snap chats#//twenty page google doc in the background// ignore that. it's mostly for comedic purposes#might also be my fault idk sorry about that. allegedly. idk ive had like three people tell me they started to ship them cause of me 🧍‍♂️#@mementoasts is another person who's drawn masadai and whose stuff i love and am inspod by .. i love their disneyland fic sm ...#there was another artist on twitter who posted a neat drawing of them but i cant remember who they were and i didnt bookmark it //screams//#recently there's been ANOTHER masadai artist ive started following on twitter - @wifekiryu. his account's n/s/f/w fyi before you go looking#he has a tumblr too @foxdies. i say cause i realized as much recently vjeaKLGJALKGJ#oh but I GUESS ill get deeper into why. /i/ personally ship masadai or whatever#first off they're opposing factions yet their character alignments Do Not Match their roles. stereotypically anyway#aoki who leads the 'surface' of society and is meant to be an admirable figure and someone 'just' when really. he sucks LMAO#though that's not atypical of politicians but just from a stereotypical This Is A Respectable Individual perspective of his role#daigo on the other hand leads the 'underbelly' of society- yk comprised of dangerous criminals and outcasts and whatnot#yet as we know him daigo's compassionate and considerate of his men- he doesnt treat them like tools like aoki does#if put in a room with the two daigo would be most people's choice of person to hang out with. probably open a trapdoor on aoki tbh#and i think thats really cool and epic i always love that kinda Subverting Expectations thing#theres also the fact they both started off like. edgy/angsty in the franchise and then brush up down the line#masato does a stronger 180. publicly. obviously but its still really funny they both have to get their act together#if you wanna talk about in-text reasons. there really is none LMAO I TELLS YOU masadai is pure crack#but if i wanted to pull a muscle reaching then there's daigo being on aoki's side while everyone else is on arakawa's during the funeral#im lying of course. mitsu was behind him. rgg tryna make me forget mitsu exist .... put him back in y8 ....#and ofc ichi joins that side to even out the seating but moving on another Goofy Reason is arakawa being like#'the chairman and my son are like p much the same age Surely he knows how he thinks :)'#and then i just think daigo being all smarmy about outsmarting aoki is really goofy and im choosing to interpret that as personal#they both also have issues with their dad. s. dad/s/. anyway.#tbh the google doc tag was a joke but i really could sit here and list every dumb reason why i think theyre funny together#like i started going over the tag limit so uhhhh yeah needless to say i have a lot of. dumb reasons 💀💀💀💀#one day ill use the main text for long rambles like this but todays not that day Point Is my imagination is rampant im afraid#so the short and sweet of it is I Think It's Funny. And They'd Be Terrible Together. Which Is Why It's Funny.#and the unfortunate part is anything i find funny i obsess over for a year so. //gestures to the mountain of bullshit thats my masadai tag/
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dashiellqvverty · 7 months ago
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everyone always wants to talk about jenny nicholsons video essays and i’m like does ANYONE want to talk about the art of the mattress aka the sleep song. bc it plays in my head every time i see anything about her.
#sleep sleep sleep time to go to sleep now… it is night and i need to sleep while it is dark….#also of course it’ll be okay from the wedding episode <3#anyway she blocks me on twitter also. not as scandalous as it seems i just made a vague tweet abt friendship is witchcraft#and presumably got auto blocked#i wasn’t even calling her out either i think i was just like. reflecting on how the song from it was trending on tiktok#it’s an understandable reason to block people just. not wanting to engage with that part of her history i get that#this was also before her briny video so she hadn’t spoken on it in a long time#brony*#i genuinely like that video a LOT i think she is able to offer a really unique perspective on a lot of brony fandom culture#not just as a big name creator but as a long time fan of older mlp gens#and ofc what she had to say about the use of the g slur in fiw was like. i mean i believe her.#that she and the cocreator had no idea it was a slur and dropped that aspect when they realized it was.#like i didn’t know for a long time either. it’s not my place to be like ‘and that means it’s fine and not a problem’#and i don’t think it IS fine. but certainly everything she said about her intentions seems like. true and honest.#anyway brony stuff aside i hate her for the way she’s spoken about john boyega. no apologies for THAT huh!!!!#there are some things out there that ppl attribute to her that are fully fake/edited but#ppl will also say ‘oh she didn’t say anything bad about him that was fake’ no she very much did#but i’ve followed her on youtube since she was still actively making fiw like she had a bit with a pony oc that she did for a while#i remember the first star wars video when i was like oh she Is A Reylo#which on its own is like. ew but i’m still interested in her stuff#but you know. she crossed a line i think#and i do still find her stuff INTERESTING#and i am genuinely still fond of fiw though a lot of that is nostalgia#but like she has a lot of interesting stuff to say about mlp and obviously as a theme park fan she’s inescapable#and it pisses me off that she’s friends with other creators i DO like but also they know her as a person and i don’t#sorry this was gonna be a short post i just can’t talk about her a normal amount#i have to explain every thought i have about her#anyway i haven’t watched the star wars hotel vid but i probably will eventually#in like an incognito tab#r.txt
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kaiasky · 10 months ago
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listen up chucklefucks, i just gotta say. I'm not defending zir, but I'm sad zie deactivated. Like, i get that trauma lasts a long time and the good stuff is maybe easy to forget?? so maybe it's just like that. And my beloved mutual @/pompeyspuppygirl made a post about zir clout chasing behavior, which is pretty shitty behavior if it's true (and if we're canceling someone it had better be pretty severe). anyways now that zie's gone pompeyspuppygirl said it was okay to make this post (again, thanks ppg everyone go follow her--really everyone in this whole drama is worth a follow)
ANYways yeah zie was my mutual and like, reblogged a lot my smaller posts. (that isn't to discredit what my mutual pompeyspuppygirl is saying about zie clout chasing ofc). AND idk zie was always reblogging art from new and undiscovered artists and reblogging donation posts (which if you don't know is really bad if you're trying to clout chase...) (again, though, ppg is my mutual i believe her.) and like, remember on valentines day i tried to blaze zir posts and zie told me to stop because zie didn't want the posts to go viral? (but again ppg is my mutual and has a lot of proof in the Google doc I'm not trying to disprove that I'm just saying what else I know)
Idk, like i feel like a lot of people loved zir's blog a while back, bc like zie DID make some good posts?? So idk why everybody's acting like they aren't even a little bit sad.,. like ngl this feels like maybe all the reasonable people left to Twitter and all the Twitter refugees who love drama came here??? shdfhhdhdhdhdh haha but idk...look idk, i just, julie i do miss you. idk. more thoughts later sorry I'm getting worked up shshs
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konpeitonom · 1 month ago
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hii can u do mw characters hallucinating their dead partner??:3thx btw love ur posts
tulpar crew hallucinating their dead partners.
sfw— lowercase intended ^_^
g/n reader (i think) — content warning for self harm/substance abuse.. so sorry!!
requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^
notes; i was super excited to do this request! finally got around to doing it. sorry if this a wee bit inaccurate, i’ve never had severe hallucinations like what im portraying here but i tried my best anyway. take this as a happy 100+ follower celebration! never written for all the cast before so this was really fun. i don’t rlly like this haha but hopefully u guys do
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curly
— i’d break him. and i think he wouldn’t be able to work properly as captain if they were frequent. and he’d feel a lot of guilt about that. everyone’s counting on him, he can’t be so hung up on the past.
— would confide in jimmy about it, and jimmy would make some comment about he’s not fit to work if he’s seeing hallucinations of his dead partner- maybe even shame him a little..
— i’d freak him out every time i’d happen. he’d have to leave the room if someone else was there, to go cry somewhere private.
— he already has issues sleeping, but i’d make it much worst. which would only make the hallucinations worst. he can never catch a break..
— he knows he’d never get over your passing, especially if it was tragic/something he could’ve prevented- but he didn’t think he’d go crazy like this.
jimmy
— he would be pissed, seriously. he’d go mad. he’d resort to drinking or self harm if it was possible.
— i only say self harm as a.. he’d stand right in front of you, cut himself and say stuff like.. “you wanted this, right? is that why you’re here? came back to fucking haunt me?”
— he’s completely scummy, and would start blaming you. his view of you would be completely tainted. but then would start feeling upset about how he’s ruined even the image of you.
— to ground himself, he’d just look at old pictures- maybe look at your old clothes if he got the chance. he doesn’t wanna ruin you, but he does. even in death, you can’t run from him.
— all around a mess. haha. he’s confused, maybe a little scared- but still selfish old jimmy..
— i mean, death is regular. it happens. people he’s known, been close to, have died. but for him to be seeing you? and so vividly too? that’s not normal, not at all.
anya
— anya would find a lot of comfort in it. she knows it isn’t healthy, but she can’t help but maybe enjoy it a little. it’s nice to know you’re always there, even if it’s just her mind playing tricks on her.
— i think the first time it happened, she’s very quick to pull herself together. and then she’s very self aware of what’s happening.
— i think she’d feel a lot of guilt.. you’ve passed, and you should rest easy- and here she is still clinging onto the past. you’d be upset if you saw her like this, which is the only reason she’d try to push it away.
— still though.. she can’t help it. you look so real, and who’s it hurting? it’s not hurting her, that’s for sure. it makes her happy.
— would do anything to feel your presence once more, maybe staring at your photo as she cuddles with a pillow.. purposely not sleeping, so the chances of her hallucinating you are higher..
swansea
— like jimmy, he’d go crazy. mentally, he’s struggled before, but not to the extent where he’s seeing vivid images of you. i’d scare the shit out of him.
— would.. likely delve back into alcoholism. what’s the point of being sober if his spouse isn't alive? not like they’ll know anyway. he’d feel maybe a bit of guilt but not enough to stop.
— he would not be able to work properly. maybe only with daisuke, as he knows he can’t break down infront of some kid. he’s old enough to know how to hold himself together.
— maybe similar to anya, there’s slight feelings of comfort. but he can’t do that to you, so he tries his best to move the fuck on over it.
daisuke
— he’d be scared, severely. as the youngest of the crew, he’s constantly hearing things about how life is only gonna get worse as you grow older.. and he thinks, ‘there’s things worse than hallucinating my dead partner in store for me?’
— would try to push through it. put on a happy face in front of his co-workers and parents, as you sit there in the back of his mind.
— he wouldn’t know what to do. he doesn’t wanna bother anyone, doesn’t wanna be a burden. he wants people to look at him and think highly of him, not pity him.
— spends a lot of his free time just.. laying in bed. distracting himself with his hobbies and interests no longer works as he can’t bring himself to care.
— he’d draw often, i think. mostly you. only because he knows how upset you’d be if you found out he’d given up drawing.
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ambrosiagoldfish · 9 months ago
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Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️
like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea
Benifit of the doubt Pt.4
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
Request Box: Open
Word Count: 4617~
A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)
Reblogs are always appreciated!
Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.
Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)
Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.
To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.
A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.
Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.
How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.
You never returned to any of the follow up meetings
But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.
“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.
“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”
Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”
You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.
“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”
Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”
You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”
-
That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.
You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.
Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.
“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”
Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.
Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”
“What!” Both your voices raise in shock
“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”
“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly
“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”
“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”
“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”
“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”
With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.
The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.
On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.
The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.
“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”
“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth
“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.
“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.
“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.
“When should she be arriving, Lute?”
“Within the hour.”
-
Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.
But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.
“She can’t see us?”
“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”
The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.
“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”
You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.
You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.
Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.
She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.
The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.
“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”
Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”
“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.
Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.
So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.
“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.
You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”
Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”
“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”
Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”
“But-“
“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”
“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”
Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought
“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg
Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”
Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.
Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.
-
A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!
“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding
“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”
You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”
She shakes her head
“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”
Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”
“Thank you.”
-
You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.
A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.
“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.
“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.
“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”
Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”
You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”
Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”
“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”
He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.
Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.
-
Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.
“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“
You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”
He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-
You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”
He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”
With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’
You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.
The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.
You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.
“Hi! I’m-“
The door is slammed shut, Before opening again
“Be not afraid-“
It shuts again…
Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.
“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.
“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”
You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.
“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…
“Wait, you are-“
“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”
Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.
“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”
“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”
Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”
Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”
She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”
You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.
“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.
“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first
“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.
“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”
“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.
“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”
The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch
“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.
He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.
The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.
“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”
The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.
“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”
The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”
“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”
Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.
“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”
“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”
“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”
“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs
She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.
You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.
You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.
*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*
Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.
Dixkmaster69
Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left
You there??
Fucking answer
You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.
Sweetcheeks
Hey love
Everything’s fine, I’m ok.
Aside from not having you with me :’(
Dixkmaster69
Fucking finally
You know you don’t have to do this
If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow
Sweetcheeks
Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.
I promise I’m going to be fine
I’ll be back before you know it.
Dixkmaster69
I know
This shit just worries me
Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)
You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.
Sweetcheeks
I already miss yours too <3
Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?
Dixkmaster69
Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3
You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.
“Sup”
You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”
You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”
You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”
“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”
You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…
“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”
More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”
Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”
Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.
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no-144444 · 2 months ago
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wingman paul- c.leclerc
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summary: charles leclerc takes a liking to you at your brothers movie premiere... paul makes it happen!
pairing: charles leclerc x fem! mescal! reader
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Did you want to go to the Gladiator 2 premiere? No, not really. Was Paul forcing you to anyways? Yes, very much so. 
Being his sister (and emotional support person), he always brought you on set, to premieres, and anywhere else. That was usually fine. The rest of his projects' premieres had either been in the Lighthouse (your favourite cinema in Dublin), or small enough that you wouldn’t get too overwhelmed. You were famous in your own right, following after your sister and writing music. You didn’t go on stage, but you’d garnered over 10 million listeners, and your album had just been nominated for a grammy, though you had no intention of going. It’s not that you were scared or shy, you were just entirely uninterested in going out in public as a ‘public figure’. It stressed you out, having people know who you are in such detail, so you just kept to yourself. You had no public social media accounts, you didn’t allow your label to post about you unless it was about the music, and you only let Paul or Nell drag you out in public for one of their events. You liked it that way, it was comfortable. 
“I’m going to go say hi to some people, you just wait here, yeah?” Paul explained as you two entered the theatre. It was huge, and every celebrity or influencer in the world must’ve been there. You nodded as he walked off and allowed yourself to fade into the background, people-watching as time passed. You noticed the beautiful architecture of the building, the way the celebrities around you mingled, the way-
“Hello.”
You whipped your head around, startled, only to be met with a face you knew quite well. “Jesus, Charles, you scared me,” you chuckled. He blushed slightly as you turned around properly to greet him. “Hi.”
“How are you?” he asked, joining you in your secluded corner. 
“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?” 
“I am very good,” he smiled, showing off his dimples. “I thought you didn’t like events.”
“I don’t, Paul just asked me to come,” you explained. “My mam would’ve killed me if I didn’t go, so here I am.” 
He nodded, understanding. “I tried to find you online, but… you are not a fan of that either?”
You chuckled. “No, not really. Sorry.” 
He shook his head. “No, it is ok. I just… wanted to talk more. You are very interesting to me,” he smiled. 
“Well, thank you for the glowing review,” you chuckled. “Are you enjoying the evening so far?”
“I am enjoying it a lot more with you here,” he smiled. “But yes, I only watched the first one a few days ago and I thought it was very good, so I am excited to see how this one compares.”
“You’re sure a charmer,” you chuckled. “I hope you enjoy the film. Where are you sitting?”
“Beside Carlos?” he shrugged, an awkward smile on his face. “Carlos knows, but I don’t know where Carlos is.”
You laughed. “Are you always this disorganised?”
“Only when I’m nervous,” he winked at you and the lights started going down, you just offered him to sit next to you, hoping that Nell wouldn’t mind. 
You two sat together, enjoying the movie as the night went on, and after you found yourselves at the bar, still chatting. He walked off to find Carlos at one point, looking back with a smile as he waved, promising to come back soon. 
“When are you going to realise he’s trying to flirt with you?” Paul laughed. Your face was bright red and your jaw dropped. 
You gently (roughly) hit his chest and scoffed. “Shut the fuck up. He is not.” 
Paul laughed. “He’s totally into you! Come on, go out with him, please! I want free tickets to Grand Prixs!” 
You rolled your eyes as he giggled, and then startled when you bumped straight back into Charles. “Fuck, sorry-” you started apologising but he just shook his head. 
“All good,” he smiled. 
Paul silently slipped away with a wink, and you were faced with Charles, once again. 
“Hi,” you breathed out. 
“Hi,” he chuckled, his dimples on full show. “He was right, you know.” 
“About what?” you questioned. 
“I am flirting with you-or, at least trying to,” he blushed slightly. 
“Oh,” you nodded, unsure what to do in a situation where someone was as brazen and blunt. “Right.”
He laughed. “Can I take you out sometime?”
You stared at him, total deer in headlights, then nodded. “Yeah, yeah, sounds grand. Thank you.”
You internally smacked yourself in the face for that. But he just laughed, unfazed by your awkward demeanour. 
“Great!” he smiled bashfully. “When are you free?”
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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pomefioredove · 3 months ago
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So people use Kalim, right? Like pretend to be his friend because he has money-
What if Kalim's crush is just like "Yeah I grew up poor....anyways! I bought you this gold bracelet! Probably not real gold, but I thought it'd fit your style." And is just always pulling up with gifts and little trinkets and just refuses to let Kalim spend any money 😭 I also imagine if Kalim gave them a gift, they'd just start bawling because they don't know how to accept gifts-
:3c I love a little kalim posting
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the mystery of the magi
type of post: short fic characters: kalim additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, realizing now that I went a liytle off-prompt, sorry u-u
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You gave Kalim one rule.
One rule. You had no expectations, no requirements, no shopping list.
Just one rule... that happened to be impossible for him to follow.
"No money?" Jamil asks, watching Kalim pace the room. "You can't spend any money? So no clothes, no jewelry, no games?"
It's far past curfew, but even Jamil had long forgotten about that. That's how strange this whole thing is.
Kalim has never looked so worried. "Not a thaumark. They said so!"
"Did they...?"
Of course. Jamil has thought you were weird from the day Kalim started coming home with plastic toys and friendship bracelets, "gifts" of yours. But this is just absurd.
The heir to one of the richest families in the world has days to find you the perfect birthday gift, and he can't spend any money.
Kalim's eyes are wide with thought, which is a strange look on him. "They say that my presence is enough..."
"But it's not," Jamil finishes the thought for him. Kalim had always given gifts as love- handing out gold and jewels like they were candy- which made him a treat for... well, most of NRC. But not you.
"Well... there's plenty you can do without spending," Jamil says. "You could... cook something, or plan a nice date..."
Kalim pouts. "It's not enough! Everything they get me is so... perfect... I want to do the same!"
Perfect, meaning the cheap toys from claw machines, drawings, handmade jewelry, half-edible cookies... Kalim keeps everything you give him. Everything. His room is beginning to look like the prize shelf at an arcade.
"This is quite the conundrum, isn't it..." Jamil mutters. "Are you sure I can't-"
"No! I need to come up with it on my own! They're just... so good at gift-giving. I wonder how they do it..." Kalim sighs. Jamil rolls his eyes.
"Then... perhaps I can offer some advice. The sort of gift you're looking to give doesn't come from here," Jamil says, pointing to his head. He trails his finger down to his chest.
"...It comes from here."
Though that was complete nonsense, Kalim lights up. "I-I think I understand! Thanks, Jamil!"
And then he's gone.
.
Trapped in a circle of friends and Scarabia students, you awkwardly smile at their birthday wishes.
Grim's greedy little paws dig into the homemade cake before the candles are out, getting icing all over himself. You chuckle, a warm, loving sound that makes Kalim beam. Good so far.
"Time for gifts. We do have a curfew to mind," Jamil says, and Grim laughs maniacally, reaching out for the first box.
"Actually," Kalim says, smiling as if it were his own birthday. "I was hoping I'd get to give my gift first!"
You chuckle. "I don't see why not,"
Kalim returns the gesture, and he stands on the table, drawing everyone's attention to him. Jamil raises an eyebrow.
"I'm not seeing a box!" Grim shouts, and you shush him. Kalim clears his throat.
"I'm usually not so bad at this, but I had a lot of trouble thinking of the perfect present for you... until Jamil said I was thinking too much here... and not here," he says, pointing first to his head, and then lower, to his throat.
You give Jamil a confused look, but he looks just as lost.
"So... that's what I'm going to do. Happy birthday!"
Everyone watches in some mix of amusement and horror as Kalim begins to sing... in your honor.
Without any accompanying music, he performs, in front of everyone you know, a song about everything he loves about you. Even Jamil looks horrified.
When it's over, the room is quiet. Everyone is staring at Kalim as if his head had fallen off.
Then, slowly, you stand. And you clap.
You're beaming. "That was amazing! Again! Again!"
Kalim grins, unphased by the weird looks everyone is giving you two, and he hops off the table to pull you into a hug.
"I'm so glad you liked it!"
"Liked it!? That was..." you laugh, hugging him back. "That was perfect."
"I can sing it as much as you want! Every night, if it makes you happy!"
"Sevens help me..." Jamil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Trey gives him a sympathetic pat on the back.
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mingi-s-dimples · 21 days ago
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New Year's Eve - Yungi (Special)
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Happy New Year's Eve & Happy New Year, sweethearts! 🎆
pairing: ceo!mingi x model f!reader x manager!yunho
genre: 18+, filth(ish)
summary: alcohol loosened your mouth a bit.. and your actions had gotten bolder to the point you fucked both your ceo and manager. but fuck it, they were whipped for you anyways.
wc: 6.1k
warnings: ceo!mingi, co-ceo/manager!yunho, fashion model f!reader, alcohol involved (champagne and whisky), Mingi is damn wasted and desperate for reader, Yunho is more controlled but he's also done for, oral, double oral (mhm yes she takes em both hihi), soft deepthroating, soft hair pushing/face thrusting, making out, teasing, drunken confession, in my opinion Yunho could drink more than Mingi and Mingi would still be gone & wasted, oral sex (f), use of sex toys (vibrator), use of hand restraint (Yunho's belt), some praise sprinkles, double penetration, threesome, did I say Mingi is needy?, lots lots of cumm, overstimulation, unprotected (boo wrap up irl!), unedited, might edit later, for sure forgot something.
Author's Note: I completely forgot to post this bro 😭😭😭 I'm so sorry I was out all day and night for nye and I completely forgot. But hey! It's spicy and I was like eh fuck it, no one would've read it exactly on nye soooo here it is finally! I hope everyone had a great if not wonderful time with their loved ones, doesn't matter friends, family or lovers ^^ Happy New Year, Happy 2025 and let's have fun together!!! Love you sweethearts 🤍
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.
The penthouse was a sight to behold, an epitome of luxury that only Mingi could pull off. The crystal-clear windows framed the city skyline, glittering with lights as the countdown to New Year’s Eve loomed closer. Inside, the space glowed with warm lighting and tasteful decor. The centerpiece of the evening was a bucket of expensive champagne chilling on the bar, a nod to the success of Mingi’s fashion empire and the new year that promised even greater heights.
Standing near the bar, Mingi adjusted his cufflinks, his sharp black suit fitting him like a second skin. He swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand, glancing at the clock with a raised brow.
“Late as always,” he muttered, though a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.
The soft chime of the elevator broke the silence. Mingi straightened, setting down his glass. The doors slid open, revealing Yunho first, his easy grin and sharp blazer exuding a casual confidence. But it was you who stole the show.
Dressed in a sleek, shimmery black dress that caught the light with every step, you walked out behind Yunho. The fabric hugged your curves in all the right places, the slit high enough to turn heads. In your hands, you held a bottle of champagne, a playful smile on your lips.
“We brought reinforcements!” you announced, holding the bottle up triumphantly as you walked toward Mingi.
“Fashionably late, I see,” Mingi teased, taking the champagne from you. His eyes lingered just a moment longer than necessary. “But I’ll forgive you. You look stunning.”
“Thanks, darling. It’s only fair to match the ambiance of your penthouse,” you replied, flashing a wink before slipping past him to the bar.
Yunho chuckled as he followed, setting his coat aside. “Don’t let her charm fool you, Mingi. She made me stop twice to check her hair on the way here.”
“I just like looking perfect. Is that a crime?” you quipped, settling onto one of the plush chairs near the fireplace.
The evening began with laughter, the champagne flowing freely as the three of you toasted to the successes of the past year. Mingi, ever the gracious host, ensured that your glasses were never empty. Yunho took the role of storyteller, regaling everyone with tales from childhood, including one about a particularly embarrassing moment involving Mingi and a failed attempt at skateboarding.
“Some things don’t need to be shared,” Mingi grumbled, but the fondness in his tone betrayed his irritation.
“Come on, it’s the last night of the year!” Yunho said, raising his glass. “We’re celebrating everything tonight—embarrassments included.”
You laughed, leaning closer to Mingi. “I think it’s endearing. Shows you’re not always perfect.”
“Oh, trust me,” Mingi replied, his voice low and smooth, “I’m far from perfect. But I’m close.”
As the night progressed and the champagne bottles were emptied, the atmosphere shifted subtly. The room was warmer, the laughter louder, and the touches lingered just a little longer. You found yourself seated between Mingi and Yunho on the large sectional, your legs tucked beneath you as you leaned toward Yunho, your hand resting lightly on his arm.
“So,” you began, your voice teasing, “what’s the plan for next year? More long meetings where you two bicker like an old married couple?”
Yunho groaned, tipping his head back. “You have no idea how much patience it takes to deal with this guy.”
“Me?” Mingi scoffed. “I’m the reason we’re successful. You’re just here for damage control.”
“And to manage your favorite model,” Yunho added, nudging you gently.
“Ah, yes. The face of the brand,” Mingi said, his gaze sliding to you. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You flatter me,” you said, feigning humility.
“Only when it’s true,” Mingi replied, his tone dipping into something softer, something that made your cheeks warm.
It wasn’t long before the champagne had taken its toll. The three of you were sprawled comfortably, the city outside sparkling brighter as midnight approached. You stretched, your dress riding up slightly as you did. Neither Mingi nor Yunho missed it, though they both tried to be discreet.
Feeling bold, you leaned against Yunho, your fingers toying with the lapel of his blazer. “You know,” you said, your voice a little too sweet, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Uh-oh,” Yunho teased, his brow arching. “This is either going to be genius or chaos.”
You smirked, your fingers trailing up his chest. “Don’t you think we’ve been a little... too professional all this time?”
Mingi, sipping his drink, choked slightly and glanced at you with wide eyes. Yunho froze, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air.
“Excuse me?” Yunho finally said, his tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement.
You tilted your head, your gaze meeting his with a challenge. “You heard me, sweetie.”
“Sweetie?” Mingi echoed, setting his glass down. “Oh, she’s bold tonight.”
“You’re drunk,” Yunho said, though his eyes darkened just a fraction as you moved closer, climbing and settling yourself on his lap without hesitation.
“Maybe,” you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck, “but I’m also right.”
“Weren’t we keeping this professional?” Yunho asked, his hands instinctively settling on your waist.
“Maybe we’ve been too professional,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to his ear.
The tension in the room thickened. Mingi leaned back in his seat, watching with raised brows and a barely concealed grin.
“Well?” Mingi drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “Are you going to let her get away with this, Yunho?”
Yunho groaned, shaking his head as if to clear it. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though his hands tightened their grip on your waist.
“And you love it,” you shot back, brushing your nose against his.
With a resigned sigh and a muttered curse, Yunho pulled you closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. Mingi let out a low whistle.
“Happy New Year to me,” Mingi said, raising his glass. “This is better than fireworks.”
Yunho froze for a moment, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his breath mingling with yours. It took a second for the haze of alcohol and your boldness to fully register in his mind. But when your hips shifted against him again, pressing closer, the wet heat seeping through the fabric of your panties and onto his pants, a low growl escaped his throat.
It wasn’t just teasing anymore.
“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with tension. His hands tightened their grip on your waist, his knuckles whitening as he tried to steady himself. “Do you even know what you’re doing right now?”
You tilted your head, a mischievous grin on your lips as you leaned in, brushing your nose against his. “What does it feel like I’m doing?”
Yunho’s restraint cracked. His lips crashed against yours, firm and commanding, like months of held-back desire spilling out all at once. The kiss was nothing short of a claim, his hands sliding from your waist to your hips, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, and the sound that rumbled from his chest sent a thrill through you.
Your hips shifted again, pressing against him instinctively, and Yunho let out a sharp breath, breaking the kiss for just a moment. “Y/N,” he said again, this time almost a warning, but his voice betrayed the edge of a groan.
Your arousal was soaking through your dress, dampening his pants, and the sensation only made the heat between you more unbearable. Yunho’s lips found yours again, rougher this time, as if he couldn’t help himself.
From across the couch, Mingi watched the scene unfold, frozen in place. He’d tried to stay calm, to play the role of the disinterested observer. But as your hips shifted again on Yunho’s lap, the way your dress clung to you and the damp fabric hinted at just how affected you were—it was too much.
Mingi shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the tightness in his pants now impossible to ignore. He cursed under his breath, trying to adjust himself discreetly, but the movement caught Yunho’s attention.
Breaking the kiss, Yunho rested his forehead against yours for a moment, catching his breath before glancing over at Mingi. His sharp eyes took in the way Mingi was shifting, his jaw tight and his glass held a little too firmly. A smirk played on Yunho’s lips as he spoke.
“So,” Yunho drawled, his voice thick and teasing, “she’s not the only one excited here.”
You blinked, momentarily dazed from the kiss, but when the meaning registered, your eyes darted to Mingi. The sight of him—tense, clearly aroused despite his attempt at composure—sent a flush up your neck.
Mingi scoffed, his voice rough as he tore his gaze away from you. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered, though even he didn’t sound convinced.
You smirked, turning back to Yunho. “What can I say? Guess I have that effect.”
Yunho chuckled, his hands sliding possessively up your sides. “That, you do,” he murmured, his voice low enough that it sent a shiver through you.
Mingi stood abruptly as he made his way to the bar. He poured himself another drink with more force than necessary, trying to shake the images from his mind. The heat radiating from where you and Yunho sat was unbearable, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away completely.
“I need another drink,” he announced, his tone clipped.
Yunho’s smirk widened as he turned back to you, his fingers brushing along the edge of your dress. “I think we’re making him uncomfortable,” he teased.
You laughed softly, leaning closer to Yunho. “Good,” you said, your voice a sultry whisper.
Mingi clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around his glass as the tension in the room grew thicker, almost suffocating.
The air in the penthouse was thick with tension, the kind that made your heart race and every movement feel electrified. Yunho’s hands lingered on your waist as you leaned back slightly, his lap still warm beneath you. Your eyes flicked to Mingi, who was pouring himself another drink with a little too much focus, his jaw tight and his posture tense.
You smirked.
“Don’t think I forgot about you, darling,” you said, your voice smooth and teasing.
Mingi froze for a split second, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at you over his shoulder. “What are you talking about?” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.
Slowly, deliberately, you slid off Yunho’s lap, your movements fluid and calculated. For a moment, Yunho’s hands tightened on your hips, reluctant to let you go, but he released you with a low hum of curiosity.
You stood, adjusting your dress with a slow, deliberate motion, your eyes catching briefly on the evidence of your effect on Yunho—the bulge pressing against his slacks, darkened slightly where your arousal had soaked through. The sight sent a thrill down your spine, your confidence swelling as you turned your attention to Mingi.
He was pretending to be unaffected, his focus on the drink he was pouring, but his shoulders were tense, and his grip on the glass was just a bit too firm. You sauntered toward him, your heels clicking softly against the floor.
“Mingi,” you said sweetly, standing just close enough that he could feel your presence.
“What?” he replied, his voice clipped, though he didn’t turn around.
You reached out, your fingers trailing lightly up his back and over his shoulder. The touch made him stiffen slightly, and you smiled, stepping closer until you were standing in front of him.
Your hand slid up his chest, fingers teasing over the fine fabric of his suit jacket, and his eyes finally met yours. There was heat there, barely restrained, as if he were trying desperately to keep some semblance of control.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and laced with warning.
You tilted your head, your hand drifting lower, over his stomach and down toward his belt. “What do you think I’m doing?” you asked innocently, your fingers brushing against the obvious bulge straining against his slacks.
Mingi flinched slightly at the contact, his breath hitching as his free hand shot out to grab your wrist. “Careful,” he said, his tone dark and edged with tension. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you leaned in closer, your lips just a breath away from his ear. “Oh, I think I do,” you whispered.
Before Mingi could respond, Yunho’s hands appeared on your waist, his warm touch grounding and electrifying all at once. His chest pressed lightly against your back, and his voice was a low rumble as he addressed Mingi.
“What do you think we should do with her?” Yunho asked, his tone teasing but his grip firm.
Mingi’s jaw clenched, his eyes darting between you and Yunho as if trying to gauge the situation.
You, however, didn’t hesitate. Turning your head slightly, you met Yunho’s gaze with boldness, then looked back at Mingi.
“I want both of you,” you said bluntly, your voice steady and unwavering.
The statement hung in the air like a firework, bursting with heat and possibility. Mingi’s hand tightened slightly around your wrist, and Yunho’s grip on your waist became more possessive.
“Is that so?” Yunho murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver through you.
Mingi let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “You really are something else,” he muttered, though the tension in his voice hinted at something deeper.
“And you love it,” you said, throwing the words back at him with a sly smile.
You leaned closer to Mingi, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you as you arched your back slightly, pressing yourself against him. The contact was electrifying, your hips moving just enough to graze against the hardness straining in his slacks. Mingi’s jaw tightened, his grip on your wrist faltering for just a moment before he caught himself, his sharp intake of breath betraying his composure.
“Y/N,” he warned, though his voice was shaky, the restraint in it fraying at the edges.
Before he could say anything else, Yunho’s hands slid over your waist, his touch firm and grounding, yet possessive. His chest pressed against your back, and the warmth of his body seeped into you, making you feel caught between the two of them in the most delicious way.
Yunho leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice low and husky. “You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to us right now,” he murmured.
You smirked, glancing back at him. “Don’t I?”
His eyes were dark, sultry, and filled with desire as he looked down at you. The alcohol had clearly loosened his tongue, but his confession came with a weight that made your breath hitch.
“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for a damn long time,” he admitted, his voice raw with honesty and hunger. “Every time you walked into the room, every time you gave me that little bratty attitude of yours, I wanted to take you apart.”
The words hung in the air, making your heart race. Mingi stiffened, his jaw clenching as he turned his head slightly to glance at Yunho.
“And Mingi,” Yunho continued, his tone teasing now, “he’s just as bad. Wanted you just as much. But he’s a pussy and never said anything about it.”
Your lips parted slightly, stunned by Yunho’s bluntness, though a flicker of amusement danced in your eyes as you turned to Mingi. “Is that true?” you teased, your voice lilting and playful, though the weight of Yunho’s words lingered in the air.
Mingi’s gaze darkened, his restraint snapping as the last thread of control unraveled. His hand released your wrist, and in a swift motion, he grabbed your waist with both hands, pulling you against him. The force of it made you gasp, and before you could process what was happening, he lifted you effortlessly and placed you on the bar counter.
His body caged yours, his hands firm on either side of you as his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sent a thrill through you. “You want the truth?” he asked, his voice low and dangerously controlled.
You nodded, your confidence faltering slightly under his piercing gaze.
“The truth,” Mingi said, his voice rough as his hands slid up your thighs, “is that I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked into my office. But I kept my mouth shut because I thought it was the professional thing to do.” His hands tightened on your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you shiver. “And now, here you are, making it impossible to hold back.”
Before you could respond, Mingi’s lips crashed against yours, his kiss searing and commanding, leaving no room for argument. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as he claimed you with a fervor that made your head spin.
Yunho’s hands never left your waist, his presence behind you a constant reminder that this was far from over. His low chuckle filled your ears as he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your other ear. “Told you he wanted it,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
Mingi pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath heavy and his eyes searching yours. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice rough and barely controlled.
You nodded, breathless. “Yes,” you whispered.
“Good,” Mingi replied, his voice firm as he pulled you back in for another kiss, his grip on you unwavering.
Yunho’s breath was hot on your ear as he leaned in, his hands still resting on your waist. His voice was husky, full of that delicious edge that only alcohol and desire could bring.
"Should we take this further?" he asked, the words slow and deliberate. "But I can't guarantee you'll be able to walk tomorrow. You might even forget how to be that bratty little thing you are the next day."
Your heart raced at his words, a wicked little smile curling on your lips as you glanced at Mingi. His gaze was fixed on you, dark with desire, and for a moment, it was clear neither of them had any intention of backing down.
Mingi, too drunk to process his thoughts fully, stood without a word, the hunger in his eyes evident as he moved toward you. Before you could even protest, he swept you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly, his body pressing against yours.
Yunho, eyes never leaving you, followed behind him as Mingi made his way toward the bedroom, his hands tightening around you as he carefully but urgently laid you down on the bed. The movement was smooth, deliberate, like he couldn't wait another second.
The bed shifted beneath you, and you could feel the heat radiating from Mingi as he straightened up. His fingers fumbled briefly with the buttons of his shirt, the fabric falling away from his body, revealing the toned chest you had been imagining for so long. Then, with a look that bordered between hunger and need, he took off his pants, standing tall over you.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away, and you noticed Yunho following his lead, his eyes darkened and filled with a similar urgency. The way they both moved, as if they were drawn to you like magnets, made your heart race even faster. He'd only taken his shirt off, his patience running thin.
But then, it was your turn.
Yunho moved closer to the bed, and with a surprising tenderness, his hands brushed over your sides, gently lifting your dress over your head. The way he undressed you wasn’t rushed or forceful. Instead, it was slow, almost reverent, as if you were something rare, something to be cherished.
You shivered under their gaze, the anticipation in the air thickening as Mingi and Yunho marveled at you. The delicate black lingerie that enveloped your body seemed to shimmer in the soft lighting, contrasting beautifully against your skin. Both men were momentarily frozen in awe, their gazes roaming over you with admiration and wonder.
"You’re…" Mingi started, his voice barely above a whisper, but the word hung in the air—unable to fully capture the intensity of what he was feeling.
Yunho’s lips parted slightly, his hand resting on the bed beside you as he took in the sight. “You’re perfect,” he said, his voice thick with desire, a soft smile pulling at his lips.
“I've never wanted to fuck you so bad until now… but that can wait, for a moment” Mingi said, eyes roaming over yours.
The room was softly lit, the golden glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls. Yunho stood near the bed, his tall frame calm and composed, while Mingi leaned casually against the dresser, his grin wide and easy, though the flush of alcohol in his system was evident in the slight sway of his movements.
“You know,” Yunho began, his voice smooth and steady despite the faint tint of tipsiness in his cheeks, “I think it’d be better if your hands were tied. Might make things easier for you to focus.”
His eyes flickered toward the leather belt at his waist. He slowly unbuckled it, the metallic clink of the buckle filling the quiet room. His movements were deliberate, giving you plenty of time to object if you wanted to.
You nodded, your pulse quickening at the anticipation in the air. Turning around, you felt the edge of the bed press against the backs of your thighs as Yunho stepped closer.
“Hands behind your back,” he instructed, his voice gentle but firm.
You complied, feeling the smooth leather loop around your wrists. Yunho’s fingers brushed against your skin as he secured the belt—not too tight, just enough to restrict your movement without causing discomfort. “Let me know if this is too much,” he murmured, testing the knot before stepping back to admire his work.
“Perfect,” he said, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.
Mingi let out a low chuckle, his gaze flickering between the two of you. “Yunho, you’re too good at this,” he teased, his voice slightly slurred but playful.
“She makes it easy,” Yunho shot back with a smirk, gesturing for you to kneel on the edge of the bed. The soft fabric of the comforter brushed against your knees as you adjusted your position, your bound hands resting lightly against your lower back.
The two of them moved to stand in front of you, their towering frames blocking out the dim light. Yunho was the first to step forward, his hand cupping your jaw as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze. “Start with me,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek.
And you knew exactly what he meant.
You leaned forward, your movements deliberate, as you traced your tongue om his cock, from the base to the leaking tip. Yunho’s breathing hitched slightly, his calm composure wavering as his hand slid to the back of your neck. His touch was firm, guiding you but never forcing.
Beside him, Mingi watched intently, his fingers twitching as if itching to join in. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, his usual boldness softened by the alcohol coursing through his system.
After a moment, Yunho gently pulled back, his hand lingering on your shoulder as he stepped aside. “Your turn,” he said, nodding toward Mingi.
Mingi wasted no time, stepping closer with a lazy grin. “Been waiting for this,” he said, his voice low and teasing. His hand tangled lightly in your hair, his touch less controlled than Yunho’s but no less careful. He let out a shaky exhale as you leaned into him, his body visibly reacting to your efforts. Your lips sucked on his tip, drawing out whines and soft moans from his rising chest.
The energy shifted as you alternated between them, the rhythm fluid and unspoken. Yunho’s steady presence contrasted with Mingi’s more erratic responses, creating a dynamic that kept you on your toes.
Then came the moment they had both clearly been waiting for. Yunho’s hand brushed against Mingi’s shoulder as they exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them.
“You think you can handle both of us?” Yunho asked, his tone a mix of challenge and encouragement.
You nodded, your confidence growing as they moved closer, their proximity forcing them to stand shoulder to shoulder. Yunho tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. “Take your time,” he said, his voice steady.
You started slowly, focusing on one and then the other, testing your limits as you adjusted to the new feeling.. of taking both cocks at the same time. Their reactions were immediate and visceral—Yunho’s quiet groans mingling with Mingi’s more vocal appreciation.
As you began to take them both simultaneously, the intensity in the room shifted. Mingi’s hand tightened slightly in your hair, his usual bravado replaced with quiet murmurs of encouragement. Yunho’s breathing grew heavier, his hand steadying you as he guided the rhythm. Their cocks rubbing together in your mouth as you sucked both off, the stretch you felt in the corner of your lips making your eyes tear up.
Mingi was the first to test boundaries. He softly thrusted in your mouth. The feeling of hitting the back of your throat made him cum instantly, a string of curses escaping his mouth at the surprise of his fast release. Mingi pulled out and caught his breath as Yunho took full control of your head, his cock filling your mouth nicely. As you bobbed your head on his cock, your tongue licking the shaft as you sucked him off, it drove him fucking insane. You sucked harshly on the tip and pressed your tongue into it as he came in your mouth, the smirk in his fafe telling you everything you had to know. He gestured you to swallow everything, a satisfied hum filling the air.
When Yunho finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven, and the room was thick with lust. He leaned down, his fingers deftly undoing the belt around your wrists. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.
You nodded, a tired but content smile spreading across your face. Mingi flopped onto the bed beside you, his usual boldness tempered by the quiet intimacy of the moment.
His lips curved into a sly grin as he got up in a rush and knelt between your thighs, his large hands gently pressing them apart. “I think it’s time we really spoil her,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.
Beside you, Yunho got up from the bed to rummage in one of the bed drawers, taking out a small vibrator. He turned it on, the faint hum of the toy adding an edge to the already charged atmosphere. “Relax for us,” he said, his tone calm but firm.
Mingi wasted no time, his warm breath brushing against your clit before his mouth followed. The first touch of his tongue was soft and deliberate, a slow, wet stroke that sent shivers down your spine. He took his time, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of you, finding the spots that made you gasp and lingered there.
Yunho watched intently, his sharp eyes taking in every reaction. “She’s already responding so well,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He lowered the toy closer to where Mingi’s mouth worked, the anticipation building with every inch.
The first contact of the vibrator was light, teasing—a gentle buzz that sent jolts of pleasure through you. Mingi adjusted his rhythm immediately, his tongue working in perfect harmony with the toy. He alternated between firm, focused licks and softer, swirling motions, his hands gripping your thighs tighter to keep you steady.
“Good girl,” Yunho said softly, his deep voice grounding you as the sensations began to build. “Let us take care of you.”
Mingi hummed in agreement, the vibration of his voice adding another layer of stimulation. He angled his head slightly, his tongue flicking in quick, precise strokes that made your hips jerk against him. “She tastes so good,” he muttered, his words muffled but filled with genuine appreciation.
Yunho increased the intensity of the toy slightly, the buzzing growing sharper as he pressed it closer to your clit. The combination was overwhelming—Mingi’s hot, wet tongue moving with purpose, and the relentless vibration of the toy pushing you closer to the edge.
“Hold her still,” Yunho said, his hand pressing gently against your lower stomach to keep you steady as your body began to tremble.
Mingi glanced up briefly, his lips slick and his grin wicked. “She’s close, isn’t she?” he said, his voice low and rough. Without waiting for a response, he redoubled his efforts, his tongue moving faster and firmer, as though determined to push you over the edge.
The pressure in your core built to a crescendo, every nerve alight as the sensations became too much to bear. Yunho adjusted the toy one final time, hitting the perfect spot just as Mingi sucked lightly, his tongue swirling in tight, focused circles.
Your orgasm hit like a wave, your body arching as pleasure surged through you. Mingi didn’t stop, his tongue easing you through the intensity while Yunho pulled the toy back slightly, letting the vibrations fade as you came down from the peak.
“Breathe,” Yunho said, his tone gentle but steady as he rubbed soothing circles on your hip.
Mingi pressed a final kiss against your inner thigh before sitting back, his grin smug but affectionate. “Told you we’d make it good,” he said, his voice low and teasing.
You managed a shaky laugh, your body still trembling slightly. “You weren’t kidding,” you said, your voice breathless but full of satisfaction.
Yunho leaned over to untie the belt from your wrists, his touch careful as he massaged the faint marks left behind. “Next time,” he said with a smirk, “maybe we’ll let you be in charge.”
Mingi flopped onto the bed beside you, his hand resting lightly on your knee. “If she can still move after this,” he joked, his voice light.
The room was warm, the three of you still catching your breath as the quiet tension settled. Mingi stirred first again, his sex drive being overly high when he’s drunk, sitting up with a groan, his hand raking through his messy hair as his gaze locked onto you. His eyes were dark and needy, roaming over you like he couldn’t get enough.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice shaky but insistent. “Can I ask you something? Please.”
You tilted your head, curiosity flickering in your expression as your heart raced. “Of course,” you replied softly.
He leaned closer, his hands finding your thighs and gripping them firmly, his touch hot and possessive. “I—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard before continuing. “I want you. Both of us. Together. I’ve been wanting this for so fucking long.” His hands slid up slightly, his thumbs brushing your skin. “Please tell me I can have you. I won’t stop thinking about it until I hear you say it.”
Before you could answer, Yunho let out a low chuckle, his smirk teasing but edged with something darker. “Mingi, come on,” he said, though there was an unmistakable smile tugging at his lips. “Give her a second to breathe, man. You’re drunk. Don’t push her.” His eyes flickered to you, meeting your gaze as he softened slightly, though his intentions were clear.
Mingi’s jaw tightened, but there was a flash of something softer in his eyes as he glanced back at you. “I just… I need to know,” he muttered, his voice husky. “Please, I want this so badly.”
You felt your heart flutter at the desperation in his voice. You reached out and cupped his cheek, leaning closer. “I do,” you said, your voice steady, yet filled with longing. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I want both of you.”
Mingi’s face softened, the tension easing from his body as he let out a deep, relieved breath. “I’ve wanted this for damn long…,” he repeated, his voice raw with need.
Yunho leaned back slightly, his eyes tracing the curve of your body before returning to Mingi. “You’ve been waiting forever, huh?” he teased, the playful edge in his voice not hiding the hunger in his gaze. “Seems like it’s time we make this happen then.”
Without another word, Yunho’s hands slid under your arms, pulling you into his lap with a smooth, practiced motion. His grip on your hips was firm as he steadied you against him. “You’re shaking,” he murmured, his tone softer than before but still filled with something deeper. “Relax, sweetheart.”
Behind you, Mingi’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer, his touch needy and urgent. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his lips brushing your neck as his hands slid lower. “How long I’ve wanted to make you ours.”
Yunho chuckled softly, his voice low and teasing as he pressed his lips to your temple. “She knows now,” he said, though the underlying hunger in his tone made it clear that he wasn’t backing down.
“She’s ours now,” Mingi growled, his fingers gripping your hips possessively.
Yunho’s fingers tightened on your hips as his gaze turned darker, more focused. “Ours, huh?” he muttered, the teasing gone from his voice now. “Then let’s see if she can handle both of us.”
Yunho, the ever composed one even if he drank as much as Mingi, lifted you up slowly and lowered you even slower on his cock, letting you adjust to his huge size. Mingi did the same but more urgently, he got closer to you, his hands roaming on your body as they settled on your waist and lowered your ass on his cock. You moaned softly at the sensation of being so stretched out, arching your back against Mingi.
“Damn she's taking us good…” Yunho groaned, starting to thrust up and down slowly. Mingi did the same, trying to be in sync with Yunho as he buried his face in the nape of your neck, his vocal self never faltering as he whined and groaned out with every thrust of his. Your hands were straddling Yunho's shoulders, steadying yourself while bouncing up and down on both men. It felt so good, so full and so hot.. to be fucked by both. The alcohol in your bloodstream only made it even better. You were not drunk, no… tipsy? Yes. But it only made it better.. the fact that your words were loosened and actions bolder meant everything to you as you've been trying to make a move on them since forever.
Though, Mingi… felt exactly the same. Only that he was gone for, needy and practically begging for you to move more above him.
“P-please, y/n..” he whined in your ear, turning you in even more.
Yunho looked at Mingi and giggled, his words eliciting, “just do whatever, she's all in for it.. just look at her, taking us so damn good. Tell me sweetie, do you want us to fill you both? Hm?” he said as one of his hands rode up your body and stopped on your breast, playing with your nipple.
“Ah, Y-yunho!” you whimpered out when he pinched it.
“Say it, sweetie. I need to know..”
“Y-yes… for fucks sake, please..” you pleaded, both men pounding into you more fiercely when hearing your words.
“Mhm, that's more like it…” and his thrusts started getting deeper, sloppier and wilder.
Both men's hands gripped your waist and thighs down, pushing you on their cocks only to make you take them deeper.
Within a few thrust Mingi couldn't help himself anymore and came, filling you up with his huge load of cum. He's followed by you, your inner walls clenching harshly on Yunho's cock, soft cries and moans escaping your rapidly rising chest.
His eyes widened in surprise and he came, basically being rushed to by your needy cunt. He fucked you thru your and his orgasm as Mingi had done the same and they slowly rode their highs, slowing down and eventually lifting you up and laying you on the ruined bedsheets.
“Wow… that was..” Yunho started, but you continued.
“Fucking hot.” you chuckled out, your legs trembling and head dizzy from all the action. Both men laid on each of your side and caught their breaths.
“We shoulda done this sooner.. I never thought it woulda been this amazing.” Mingi said, his words slurred.
“Well.. That was a damn Happy New Year for me.. for us” you said and the two men laughed softly, embracing you in a warm hug.
NETWORKS:
@blossomnet
@illusionnet
PERMANENT TAGLIST:
@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz
364 notes · View notes
sugrhigh · 7 months ago
Text
CANT SLEEP - ( c.s )
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REQUESTED**
summary- chris stumbles across your instagram late at night, unable to contain himself from participating in some self pleasure. but when he accidentally likes an old post, things get even steamier.
warnings- onlyfans!reader x subby-ish!chris, phone (?) sex, pretty much smut with a little plot don’t say i didn’t warn you
a/n: say you can’t sleep, baby i know! she’s working late but she’s definitely not a singer! anyways i hope you guys didn’t forget about me and enjoy this little fic. and thank you to the non who requested! (if you hate it im so sorry)
fucking instagram.
chris has a love-hate relationship with social media; it feels annoyingly formal considering the fame, but he’s also mutuals with lots of beautiful women because of it.
so it’s admittedly fun to scroll through the app once he’s alone in his room for the night, just like he is now, tapping his thumb to leave a like on the posts that really catch his eye.
and then a suggestion pops up on his feed, a tempting picture from someone completely different: you.
it’s a newer photo, from a day ago. you’re on the beach somewhere in the caribbean, trendy sunglasses perched on your head, covered only by a skimpy orange bikini.
all dressed up in his favorite color, just by coincidence.
he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, exhaling a long breath out his nose as he analyzes further.
you’re laid out on your stomach by the ocean, ass fully on display as you prop yourself up on your elbows. it only presses your cleavage further together, an entirely mouthwatering sight. the lighting makes your eyes light up, mysterious smile frozen on your face.
call me on my shellphone.
chris smirks slightly at your caption, mainly because he actually does want to hit you up. but instead he clicks on your profile, intent on learning more.
his eyes widen slightly at your following; he can’t believe he’s never seen or heard of you before this. your email is in your bio, along with the pleasant surprise that you’re based in LA. then he sees the only fans link pasted underneath.
and as much as chris wants to click it, he won’t. at least, not yet. so he returns to your public posts, scrolling to find even more enticing photos.
there’s one of you in bed, hair fanned out around you, a suggestive finger between your teeth. you’re promoting a lingerie website, dressed in a sexy red set that leaves very little to the imagination.
then a picture of you leaning over the side of a pool, water beading on the slope of your back as you look down the lense, plush lips parted in faux-surprise.
he’s getting far too excited, and before he knows it he’s palming himself through his pants, admiring all of the revealing angles and outfits. chris finds himself thanking all of the companies sponsoring you.
a moment later he lands on a photo that quite literally leaves him breathless. you’re on your knees, bent over a little vanity stool with your legs spread wide apart. you’re glancing back at the camera, clothed pussy practically begging to escape the tiny blue thong covering it.
he’s applying pressure to his shaft in bursts now, teasing himself as his hips chase his fingers. it’s only when he glances back at his phone that he realizes he’s accidentally liked the post, from over four months ago. he was too focused on the movement of one hand that he forgot about the other.
his cheeks redden immediately, frozen in embarrassment as he yanks his hand away from his lap. he’s not sure what to do, and (un)luckily enough, you’ve already seen that he’s stalking.
when you check the notification you’re surprised, in the middle of your regular scroll now that you’re back in your room for the night. you’re still at a resort in the bahamas, enjoying a much-needed vacation (though you’re still occasionally working).
but looking at chris sturniolo’s big verified account in your likes, on a post from a while ago nonetheless, gets you a little excited. it surprises you, him being on your page, though you’ve always been a bit of a fan.
you click on his profile, going right to his messages since you already follow him. you’re mostly motivated by the fact that you’re buzzing off a few fruity drinks, so you type out two letters and hit send.
hi
the dm comes through his phone a second later. it’s just a simple little word, but chris grows even more sheepish at the fact that you did in fact see his little slip up.
he bites down on the inside of his cheek, unsure of whether or not he should respond. but he’s already in too deep, and he doesn’t want to act like a complete loser to you. so he uses he taps the keyboard.
hey
when you see that he’s answered, you feel yourself get a little bit giddy. you were really hoping you wouldn’t scare him away, and the fact that he’s rising to the challenge impresses you.
nice to see you in my likes
i’m quite the fan
chris’s heart quite literally skips a beat. you’re toying with him, but he also gets the sense that you like it, that you want more. he’s still ridiculously horny, and actually talking to you isn’t helping, but he doesn’t care.
i think i might be a bigger fan of you
it’s far bolder than he normally gets, especially online, and he kind of likes it way more than expected. you can feel your body heating up at his response, rolling over onto your stomach on top of the plush comforter.
your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip, gnawing on it as you consider what you want to say. you don’t want to be too forward, but it’s also the name of the game.
cute :)
what were you doing on my account this late at night christopher
he swears his face can’t get any more red. he instinctively looks at his lap, at his still-hard dick, and he decides that honesty might be the best policy.
lurking
because you turn me on
you fully smile now, happy that he’s continuing to match your energy. it’s impossible to ignore the way you’re throbbing now, imagining all of the dirty ways this conversation could go, so you keep it up.
oh really now
what’re you thinking about hmm
you, in my bed
in my hands
wish i could feel them right now
View Photo
here, specifically ;)
the photo notification sends his heart beating out of control, and his curious finger taps it open without hesitation. it’s a photo of your bare chest, perky tits exposed to the camera, shirt bunched up by your collarbone. your mouth is parted just a bit, and chris audibly sucks in a breath.
he’s already slipped his hand back into his sweats, really stroking his dick this time. he’s so fucking hot and bothered at this point that he’s sensitive as hell, and spreading his own wetness only adds to the effect.
holy shit
want my tongue all over you
chris is fumbling around with the keyboard, toying with himself as he continues the conversation because he never wants it to end.
you don’t want it to either, considering nobody has ever really piqued your interest like chris has. you’re practically dripping from the conversation, already soaking your thin silk shorts.
but at the end of the day this is still your job, and you can’t give everything away for free.
you should video chat me rn
link is in my bio x
and perhaps you underestimated him, because you get a notification a minute later that someone has requested a private video chat, which is insanely expensive to do because of your recent growth.
you know it’s chris, even though his username was definitely randomly generated. but people don’t pay frequently enough for it to be anyone else, so you open the app and initiate the call.
chris nearly crawls out of his skin when his phone starts buzzing, even though he was expecting it. he has no idea why he did this because he’s absolutely terrified, but the need took over and he had to really see you.
and now he is.
the call connects and you pop up, laid back against your pillows with your phone propped up on something he can’t see. you’re already topless, and a moan slips past his lips before he can help it.
“hey there.” you purr, smiling slightly from his little noise.
“fuck, even your voice is sexy.” he groans, bucking into his hand without a second thought.
it just feels so good, and having you on the phone is making it harder and harder for him to slow down. he doesn’t even care how obvious he’s being; why hide it now?
“aw, touching yourself already? how needy, i was hoping you’d wait for me.” you tease, one hand trailing from your neck to your breasts as you speak.
chris takes note of this, breath hitching as he watches you slide your fingers lower. you toy with the waistband of your tiny pajama pants, pulling them down so slowly that it makes him weak.
and then you spread your legs, fully revealing yourself now in the dim lighting from a lamp that’s somewhere out of sight. his mouth hangs open, pupils blown out in pure lust.
“god, i wish i could taste that pretty pussy right now.”
it slips out naturally, which amazes him because he’s never been very confident when it comes to dirty talk. but you bring it out of him.
and the least you can say is that you fucking love it. a sigh passes your lips as your fingers slide over your slit, enjoying his facial expressions as he strokes his own cock.
“mm, i just know your mouth would feel so good,” you praise, yearning for more of him in a way that forces you to continue, “let me see you, baby. wanna watch you get off with me.”
chris’s cheeks flush slightly at the request, but he would do just about anything you asked at this point, so he blindly adjusts his camera angle. now you can see that he’s got his sweats pushed down, shirt resting above his happy trail, dick in one hand while he holds his phone in the other.
“fuck, you’d fill me up perfectly too.” you tell him truthfully, applying more pressure to your clit in fast circles at the sight.
he whimpers as he pumps even faster, spurred on by your words and your actions. he ogles as one hand teases your nipples, simultaneously plunging the other into your cunt.
that’s when chris finally hears a moan slip past your lips, and he swears he’s in heaven.
“shittt.” you slur, driving your two fingers deep into your entrance over and over, wishing they were chris’s instead.
“so fuckin sexy, m’not gonna be able to last much longer.” he compliments, even though he’s barely able to string the sentence together.
not that there would be any right words to describe the way he’s feeling. this is not at all how he thought his day was going to turn out, but it has to be the best turn it could’ve taken. his muscles are tightening, and the familiar pit in his stomach is growing.
“keep going. want you to come for me, pretty boy.” your voice is sultry and strained as you build your own orgasm up, clenching around your own hand as you curl them inside yourself expertly.
chris throws his head back, biting down hard on his lip to contain the primal growl crawling up his throat.
the pet name is just the nail in the coffin. his dick twitches and he knows he’s only a few strokes away from finishing, so he draws it out of himself in a way that allows him to relish the feeling.
the sight of him unraveling makes your head spin, and the rubber band in your own stomach suddenly snaps. you’re a shuddering mess, riding your orgasm out as you whine his name.
usually you’re careful to not let yourself get too into it, never falling deep enough in the fantasy. but then again, it’s not every day that a guy like chris ends up in your likes.
it’s unfamiliar territory for each of you in different way, but at the same time neither of you want this to be the last time you interact. his chest heaves, and you take a brief moment of silence to catch your breath.
“wow, that was…” he trails off, because he has no idea what to say now.
“yeah,” you nod, sly smile lighting your features up, “i think you’re my new favorite customer.”
-
@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @inkyray @impureals @chrisactualwife @snowysosturn @fikefries @riasturns @beccaluvschris @realuvrrr @mattstromboli @pepsiboyy @gdsvhtwa @ginswife @ivonchetooo1239 @julescameronmf @autsturni @beach4life @mattspolitank @cupidsword @mattssturnz @anonymouslyachrisgirl @aflairforthedramattic @literallyjustrue @p1nkm6tter @vschrissturn @mattsturniolox @bigbeefybitch @tpwktahlz @goldengrapejuice @cherrybombpopcs @hrtz4alex2211 @sturnsjtop @slutformeganfox @katw4shereee @lizzy7777 @st4niolos @bigdic7821 @justalittle47 @mattsdirtylittlehoe @iihrtsturniol0 @bellasashylegs @xoxo4chrisss @miloisdone1
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taintandviolent · 2 months ago
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Regular ; Oz Cobb x Reader
summary: You live in Gotham City and are a waitress at a little hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant. Oz is a regular and you've developed quite the crush on him.
word count & w a r n i n g s: 6.4K | older man/younger woman, semi-established history, making out, cockwarming, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering (female receiving, dirty talk, smut with a teensy bit of plot (but not really).
a/n: to the 99.9999% of my followers... I'm so sorry but I am begging you guys to hear me out about him!!!! I thoroughly expect this to flop, but I needed to write it for my own sanity. absolutely massive thank you to @redravenblogs for beta-reading! banner by @/strangergraphics!
↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!
Ah, Tuesday night. 
In Gotham City, every night is a good night for an Italian restaurant. Especially one that’s been in business since 1964 and acquired a hefty lot of aging locals that know the food is good, and a possibly even longer list of trendy, younger foodies that have heard that food is good because of the aging locals. 
There’s also the… criminal side of the patrons. Have a place with delicious food and wine, and Gotham’s elite underground is sure to follow. You’ve seen your fair share of men who look like they’re here to discuss a deal over a good meal, and a number of elected officials with them. You know better than to meddle, though. You just do your job, and hope for a good tip. Usually, you get one. 
Tonight, it’s raining. Heavily. Surprise, surprise. People flock in from the street as an escape from the deluge outside and the restaurant is filling up quickly. Your section is about three quarters of the way full, and you’re busy. You hear the door open again, followed by the momentary rush of the sound of tires on wet pavement outside. You straighten up, throwing your glance in the way of the entrance. 
There he is. A warm smile spreads across your face as you watch him amble in, shaking the rain from his leather coat. Though his appearances aren’t regular, his habits are. He always sits at the same table in your section, towards the back and next to the corner window. Once he figured out it was in an area you attended to, he never sat anywhere else. 
You only know him as Oz, the big sweetheart of a man who comes in and always orders the chicken parmigiana. Says it’s the best in town. After seeing him a few times, and sneakily taking note of his last name, you took it upon yourself to do a little digging and found out that he’s known for running with Falcone’s gang and that he’s also the owner of the elite Iceberg Lounge. You never bring those things up to him in fear of starting a conversation he doesn’t want to finish. It’s really none of your business, anyway. You give him a moment to settle into the booth, but once he does – you’re immediately headed that way. 
“There she is,” he starts with a smile, watching you as you make your way over to the table, pulling your order notebook from your apron pocket. “There’s my girl.” 
A blush hits your cheek – it does every time. From day one, he flirted with you, harmlessly and has continued it ever since. You’re used to patrons being a little flirtatious, but something about the way Oz does it makes your stomach tighten. 
“Buonasera, Oz…” you say, your lips curling into a warm smile. In the year you’ve worked here, you’ve picked up a little Italian, but the appropriate greetings are mandated by management. “How you doin’?” 
“Better now.” 
You smile again and dip your chin to your chest shyly. He’s always so affectionate, so warm. For being a guy who meddles in Gotham’s seedy underbelly, he’s one of the nicest guys you’ve ever met.
“The usual?” 
He nods. “The usual, sweetheart. But gimme’ a side of fettuccine tonight, huh?” 
You scribble the order down, and snap your book shut. “You got it.”
“What time you off tonight, doll?” 
“Same as every night, Oz. In about an hour.”
“They keepin’ you late every night, huh?” 
“Yeah, but a girl’s gotta’ eat.” 
He scoffs, shaking his head and shifts in the booth before looking up at you. “I keep tellin’ ya, I could take care uh ya, baby.”
The running joke, but sometimes you wonder if he’s serious. He always tips you generously, alarmingly so, and it’s always put directly in your hand, as though he doesn’t want anyone else knowing that he takes care of your groceries for the week.
“And I keep sayin’ I couldn’t do that to you.” 
“Ahh–!” He jerks his head to the side, dismissing those words. 
You reach forward to touch his broad shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Let me put your order in, honey. I’ll be right back with your wine.” 
With that, you walk proudly off towards the back, swaying your hips. You can feel Oz’s eyes on you as you go and maybe the way you move is intentional, because you know he’s watching. So, what if it was? Can you really blame a girl for liking the attention?
As you round the corner to the kitchen, you clear your throat and call out to the cooks. Angelo is working tonight, and he’s one of the few guys who knows about your little affinity for Oz. As soon as you pin the ticket, Angelo spins the wheel around, looking at the order. He recognizes it, and gives you a knowing smile. 
“Oh, look who’s back, eh?” 
“Quiet,” you hush, looking back towards the table. You can’t see it from this angle, but you know he’s there, sitting, probably on his phone, or tapping his big knuckles on the wood of the table. 
He looks at the sheet again, noticing the addition, and raises an eyebrow. “Boyfriend’s hungry tonight.” 
“Angelo, will you quit it? He’s not my boyfriend.” 
“Sugar daddy then, eh?” 
You scoff, giving him the finger before reaching for one of the bottles of wine – Oz’s favorite.
You return to his table with a skip in your step. It’s been about a week since you’ve seen him, and you can’t help the giddiness in your gait. As you bump your plush hip into the corner of the table, Oz grins crookedly at you, his gold teeth glinting in the low lighting of the restaurant. You reach into your apron, pulling out a corkscrew. 
“So, whatcha’ been up to, Oz?” You say, as you twist the prong into the cork. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” 
“Ah, y’know… business as usual.”
He usually gives you an answer like that – something that doesn’t reveal too much about what he does. You wonder if he knows that you’ve looked into him. You suddenly furrow your brow at the cork – it’s being stubborn – and quickly situate the bottle between your legs, squeezing it tight between your thighs. This action isn’t lost on Oz, who watches you with a deeply interested grin, watching how your skirt rides up just slightly at the front, not enough to reveal anything aside from some of your creamy soft thigh flesh. Everything you do is done with such innocence, but there’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing to him, he thinks. After a moment of yanking, the cork finally gives way with a hollow POP and you grip the bottle, bringing it up to the table. You mutter a quiet apology and fill the glass, pulling the bottle back to wipe the edge on your apron.
“Well, it’s good to see you. Always is.” 
Someone calls your name from behind you, and it’s one of the other tables, looking for refills. You offer Oz an apologetic smile, and head in that direction. Sadly, you don’t return until his food is ready.  He’s extra present tonight; your eyes meet every time you look in his direction, giving him a timid smile and going about your tasks, but your heart flutters with an adoration for the older man. You’re attentive too, and go over to his table a million and a half times to ask how the food is, if he needs anything else. 
“Only you, doll.” 
You swat playfully at his shoulder, though the little quip has heat pooling in your core. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about him taking you over the table a handful of times; lustfully imagining what his hips would feel like rutting against your ass as he sunk himself inside of you. You constantly wondered what his cock looked like. He was a big man, and you assumed that rang true for all parts of him – but the hunger to find out was terrible.  
He’s one of the last ones to leave, lingering as long as he can before it’s considered rude. Tonight, something’s different about him, like something is on his mind, something he wants to say. Each time you’re at his table, he looks like he’s about to ask, but never does. Finally, as you return to clear his table, reaching for the empty plates on his table, he downs the rest of his wine and clears his throat. 
“Listen, sweetheart,” he says, pivoting slightly in the booth with some effort. “You uh, you busy after work?” 
“N-no.” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You straighten up, holding the stacked plates with one flattened palm.
“Why don’t you come down to the Iceberg Lounge? Unwind a little.”
“Oh, Oz, I’m not much of a clubbing girl.” 
There’s a glimmer of disappointment in those dark eyes of his, but he sets his jaw, and gets to his feet. This puts him in your proximity, and you can feel the heat rolling off his large body. Your stomach aches to lean into him, press yourself into his gut, and lace your arms around his neck.
“Just think ‘bout it.” He reaches in his pocket. 
The tip he gives you tonight almost makes your knees give way. It feels thicker than usual in your left hand and when your fingers close around the bills, you swallow down the protests. You don’t dare count it, not in front of him or anyone else. You’ve stopped telling him no, or that he doesn’t have to, because it’s almost like it offends him. He always hushes you, and acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You tuck it in the pocket of your apron, and swallow hard again. 
He smiles and steps around you. Your eyes are glued to the visual of him leaving, watching him through the windows as he limps down the sidewalk. God, you want him. It’s a lethal hunger, something that claws and rips at your insides. 
Once the restaurant is empty, you and the rest of the crew make quick work of cleaning up and closing up shop. It’s about forty-five minutes later when you’re slipping your arms into the sleeves of your black, wool overcoat and heading through the door. The rain hasn’t stopped. If anything, it’s gotten worse. You heave a sigh. You’ve got a walk ahead of you, but it’s something you’re used to. 
“Doll!” 
You stop walking, poised just at the end of the sidewalk. You hoist your bag up on your shoulder and pull your jacket right around your neck, squinting into the rain. 
“Oz? That you?” You take a step in that direction, knowing full well it is. Your casual act is embarrassing to you, but you persist, pretending you’re surprised to see him getting out of his car. It’s a nice one, too… a Maserati. Was he… waiting for you?
“Yeah,” he grumbles. “You ain’t walkin’ home in this, are ya?”
“Just to the station,” You defend. 
“Nah. C’mon.” He limps around the front of his car, rain splattering against his leather coat. “Lemme’ give ya’ a ride.” 
He doesn’t have to ask you twice. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Really. The rain is brutal and you’re cold, a chill settling into your bones. You hurry towards the plum-coloured car, your high heels clacking against the wet pavement as you do. Oz opens and holds the door for you, waiting patiently for you to make your way over. You get in the car gracefully, making sure not to flash him, though, you doubt he’d mind if you did. It’s warm inside, the heat is on, and the leather interior has absorbed some of that heat. You snuggle into the seat, watching in the rearview as Oz makes his way back around the car, and for a moment you’re surrounded by nothing but the sound of rain on the roof and the shlick of the wiper blades as they whisk the droplets off the windshield. The driver’s side door opens, and he tucks himself in. Droplets of rain decorate his shoulders, and he smears his hand over his hair. 
“Where to, sweetheart?” He asks, a familiarity in his voice. He’s used to driving people around, but he’d drive you around the whole city if you asked. 
“The complex on the corner of 7th and Onyx…” you say, almost sheepishly. Sure, it’s not the best part of town, but your little apartment is cozy, overlooking the city. You imagine he’s used to much nicer, and is probably silently judging the location. 
“Oz,” you start, looking at the girth of his fingers as they wrap around the steering wheel. Your mind starts to wander, but you quickly reign it in with a hard blink and an inhalation of breath. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure, doll. Anything you want.” 
“Were you waiting for me to get off work?”
 “Gotta’ look out for my favorite girl, y’know?” 
It’s an indirect answer, but an answer all the same. You smile to yourself as he eases his foot into the gas pedal, the car moving forward. His right hand departs from the steering wheel to turn on the radio. Frank Sinatra’s crooning voice fills the inside, and for the rest of the drive, you’re silent, occasionally stealing looks at Oz as he drives. He handles the car beautifully, and you wonder if he handles a woman as well. 
Oz is sweet. You know this. Despite his constant heavy flirting at the restaurant, he’s sweet, charming and at times, awkward. Endearingly so. But you aren’t taking pity on him. Your interest in him is purely selfish, driven by your lust for older, dangerous men. You inhale a deep breath and turn your attention to the road. You’re close to home. A few minutes later, he pulls up next to your building and puts the car in park. 
You reposition yourself to face him, shifting your feet underneath you. He’s watching you, those smoldering, dark eyes following your every move. Carefully, you lean over the center console, enough to close in the distance between you two and press your lips against his warm, scarred cheek. His aftershave wafts into your nose, and you take a deep breath of it, remembering it. You think you hear his breath hitching. 
“That’s for the ride, Oz.” 
“Shit, I oughta’ drive you ‘round more often if that’s what it gets me, huh?” 
You hesitate a moment, looking into his eyes. There’s that look again –  like he wants to ask something. You fill the void with another question. 
“Is our chicken parm really the best, or do you just come for me?” 
Oz’s thick brows flick up on his forehead and he lets out a throaty chuckle. “Sweetheart...” 
“Do you come for me?” 
Now he’s really looking at you, squinting at you. Hearing that question repeated has him twitching in his goddamn slacks. He looks out to the rain, then back to you and you’re still staring at him, waiting for an answer. 
“If you only fuckin’ knew,” he chokes out.
“Well.. what if I wanna’ know?” 
“Doll,” he grins and laughs, almost nervously. It’s loveable and you can’t help but smile, your gaze fixated on his scarred mouth as he speaks. You aren’t staring negatively, quite the contrary. Like everything else unusual about him, you find his scars sexy. 
“You don’t gotta’... y’know, do that.”
You smile again, letting your lids close slightly. He thinks you’re doing this because you’re what? Paying him back for all the tips? Treating him like a charity case? Hysterical. If he only knew.
“Answer my question, Oz. What if I wanna’ know?”
He shifts in his seat. Uncomfortable? You can’t tell. 
“Then uh… I ain’t gonna’ deny you that. Find out.”
You lean back over, and instead of kissing his cheek, you tilt your head and go for his mouth, your soft, plush lips pressing against his. He doesn’t respond… not right away, at least. He’s stunned, but also trying not to devour you like some goddamned hungry animal. Finally, his lips twitch to life, pressing back against yours. 
He ain’t used to this. But, fuck, it feels good. 
As his mouth opens, his large hand comes up to the side of your face, holding you where you’re at. The cool chill of the band of his ring is a stark contrast against the warmth of his digits. His fingertips graze the edge of your hairline, massaging gently. The taste of his tongue in your mouth is intoxicating, the wine lingering on his breath mingles with his own personal notes. You let an open-mouthed moan fall from your throat, into his, and he reciprocates, moving his body slightly towards you. Your tongue slips along his bottom lip, pausing to nibble at it softly. He groans deep, his eyes rolling back in his head. You’re getting him stiff, worked up and all you’re fuckin’ doin’ is kissin’ him.   
This is getting heavy. You feel your own arousal burning between your legs, a fiery, throbbing heartbeat that gets more incessant the longer his tongue is in your mouth, tasting you. Oz is practically taking you in mouthfuls, and your hand crawls over the center console, just far enough that your fingernails scrape against the fabric of his slacks, over his thigh. A desperate attempt to get closer to him without just straddling him in his front seat. 
A deep rumble of thunder and a crack of lightning pulls you two from each other. You lurch away, panting, and look out through the front windshield. The rain comes down harder, and you can hardly make out the outlines of the buildings in front of you. 
“I should… probably go inside before this gets any worse.”
You aren’t sure if you’re talking about the rain or the mutual arousal. Maybe both. He clears his throat in response; he wants to tell you that you’re a cruel woman, leaving him like this, but with the taste of you still on his tongue, he ain’t about to push his luck and get greedy. He unlocks the doors from the panel on his left. You open the door and get out, dragging your bag with you. You lean back inside, looking at him with dreamy, half-lidded eyes. 
“I’ll see you, Oz. Thanks for the ride.” 
But not the kiss? You cringe at your words. There’s that look again – but this time, you know he wants to ask you if you’re coming down to the Lounge later. You know it, and you’ve already made up your mind. 
Instead, he shrugs with both of his shoulders. “Sure, sweetheart. Any time. I mean that.” 
With butterflies in your stomach, you exit the car, and shut the door, careful not to slam it. You hold your purse above your head as you run to the front door and you hear the roar of Oz’s engine as he speeds off. The second you’re inside, you kick off your heels at the door and hurry to the back of the apartment. You flip the lightswitch, illuminating the modest bedroom. You pull the dress from the back of your closet, half expecting a cloud of dust to come with it.  
Thank god it still fits. 
You catch a cab downtown, which is much less luxurious than your previous ride. It drops you off in front, and the line to get in stretches down the length of the building. You knew it was a popular place, but you hadn’t expected this. The rain, nor the fact that it’s a Tuesday evening, deters these patrons – whatever’s inside must really be something. You pull your dress down your thighs, and walk carefully up onto the sidewalk. Deciding to try your luck with the bouncers, you bypass the line, trying not to look at anyone to your right. If you stand in line, you won’t be inside for hours. 
Two men – identical twins – stand in front of the door.
“Can we help you?” One of them asks, sternly. You don’t take offense, they’re only doing their job. 
“Um…” You blurt out your name, adding, “Oz asked me to come.” 
One of the men speaks into a small mic attached to the lapel of his jacket, covering it with his hand. It’s only a moment before one of them opens the door and the music goes from muffled to booming, vibrating your bones. You mutter a quick thanks, and step inside, feeling like you’ve just cheated the system. The visual that meets you truly overwhelms you at first, and you hesitate. 
It’s a staggeringly massive venue, filled with undulating bodies. The building itself is industrial in nature, all steel and flashing red lights. The dance floor stretches as far as your eyes can see, a literal sea of human beings, all grinding against each other, feeling the music in their veins. You stand, stunned at the start of the crowd, unsure of where to go.
After a moment, you lift your gaze and your eyes meet for the hundredth time that night. Oz stands on the second floor, on almost a catwalk above the crowds. He looks like he did at the restaurant, save for the leather jacket which was replaced by a white suit jacket; he’s wearing the same purple shirt and black slacks. Your shoulders relax, knowing that whatever happens next will be something you remember for the rest of your life.
He doesn’t make it a secret of how he’s checking you out, a devilish sneer on his face. He’s only ever seen you in your waitress outfit, which let it be known, is sexy enough on its own, but this plunging number that gives him a peek at your cleavage, and hugs your hips in ways he could only dream of… He deepens his grin and jerks his head to the side, urging you up. You follow his gaze and clock the staircase to your left. You make a beeline for it, holding the chain of your purse in a fist and climb the steel staircase carefully, until you get to the platform that Oz is standing on. 
“Hi!” You shout over the pulsing music. You’re giddy, like a schoolgirl. It’s embarrassing, really. 
“I gotta’ be honest, doll, I didn’t think I’d see you.” he confesses, leaning into your ear. His voice is rough, but enticing. He pulls back, gauging your reaction. You stare at him for a moment, saying nothing, prolonging the moment and torturing him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and your eyes flick down to watch. Something he does a lot, you notice. 
“What?” you ask, leaning into him. “After what happened in the car?” 
When you pull back to look at him, there’s a bemused smile on your face. Confident. Cocky. Like there was an unspoken contest of who would mention it first and you won. He shrugs lightly, huffing out a laugh. You reach for his cheek, palming it softly. Oz keeps his composure, even though inside, he wants to lean into it and whimper like a dog. He’s glad he doesn’t though. 
“I’m the one who kissed you, remember? It’s not like you did anything to offend me, Oz.” you coo.
“I ‘spose not, huh?” 
You nod, slowly, coyly. 
“The chicken parm,” he says suddenly, shrugging with his hands. “It ain’t bad. But I guess you’ve figured out the real reason why I come there, huh?”  
You laugh brightly, looking over the railing at the throngs of people below you, neon red lights washing over them in time with the music. You smile softly, feeling special. It’s not every day that you get private access to an elite club in Gotham City and get to schmooze with the owner. 
“Come upstairs with me.” Feeling like your attention is drifting from him, Oz takes your hand, guiding you in the direction of yet another flight of stairs. Your eyes trail up the steps; they lead to a loft, glass windows on every side. 
You’re stone cold sober, so you can’t blame the alcohol, but the second you’re in his office, above the crowds, above it all, you’re on him like a bear on honey. Your hands smear over his chest, fingers grazing through the hair that peeks out from his open shirt. He smells like cigars and an expensive cologne that you take lungfuls of. 
“You're an eager girl, aren’t ya?” 
“Yeah, Oz… I am.” You reply breathlessly, kissing a path along his bottom lip and chin. 
“How long have you felt this way, huh?” 
You finally pull back, and lick your lips, watching him intently. You knew he was a talker from the restaurant, always chatting. But right now, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. “Uhm…” Your chest heaves visibly, and Oz has to fight to keep his eyes on yours. “The first or second time you came into Bellini…” 
“Ah, c’moooon!” he says, incredulously. 
“No, I’m serious!” You laugh a little, moving your head to try and keep Oz’s gaze. He looks off behind you for a moment, and when he returns his attention to you, his expression is serious.
“Chicks like you don’t go after guys like me –”
You bristle and take his face in your hands. “Chicks like me? What do you know about chicks like me, Oz? You think you’ve got it all figured out, huh?” 
He sidesteps that with another question. “What, you like older guys or somethin’?” 
“They’re better…” You say in between tiny kisses. “They know better. They’re more experienced. Guys my age…” You pause to run a finger along his lip. “They don’t know how to take care of women.”
Oz smiles. It’s a dirty, devious smile, and it sends a pulse to your core. There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, and he brings his hand up to the curve of your shoulder. “You want me to take care of ya, baby? Is that what you’re sayin’?” 
You nod. A little too enthusiastically, maybe. 
“It’s a busy club, sweetheart.” He says, almost nonchalantly, as though his slacks aren’t tenting in between both of you. 
But… he has a point. You hum quietly. 
“Later, then? Give me a tour of the club and – “ Your voice trails off because Oz looks like he’s just gotten an idea. He smirks, and his hand grips your hip, pulling you close to his gut. “What?” 
“How’s about you sit on it, huh?” 
Your head turns, gaze heavily resting on the room across the way. You assume it’s for the dancers of the club. Whatever it is – it’s right there. You glance at it nervously, and your expression reads strong, apparently, because Oz chuckles next to you, and brings his hand to your jaw, forcing it back in his direction. 
“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me. It’s okay. They ain’t gonna’ know a thing.” 
His hand drops from your jaw to your waist, where his thumb swipes circles over your dress. His hand sweeps around to the back, where your skin is exposed, and begins stroking patterns over the skin, igniting tiny fires wherever he touches. You lean forward, pressing your mouth against his again, hungry for his taste again. After a few minutes, Oz pulls away, ending the foreplay. He turns and ambles to the leather sofa angled in front of the window and you follow, taking slow, careful steps. One foot in front of the other. 
Once he’s seated, you lift your dress just enough to grip the delicately stretchy lace of your panties on either side, and carefully pull them down the curve of your ass. Oz is watching, his brown eyes locked on the tantalizing visual in front of him. You discard them on the sofa cushion, not thinking about where they land. Oz watches though, and his large hand snakes out, fisting them and discreetly tucking them into the pocket of his slacks. If you asked, he would’ve told you that he didn’t want anyone fuckin’ seein’ ‘em. The reality was that his perversions were too loud, and he was going to take a token of this dream he was experiencing.  
Oz reaches down, unlatching his slacks, and pulling the zip down just enough to reach in and pull his aching cock free. As you lower yourself, he lines it up, watching intently. You whimper his name, feeling the cockhead nudge your entrance. 
“Easy, sweetheart, easy. That’s it, nice n’ slow.” He licks his lips. 
At first, you nestle yourself down onto his thick cock gradually. The fat, leaking head pops in first, sending a shockwave through your core. Your breath hitches in your throat, and instead of sliding yourself down his shaft slowly, with a huff, you slam your ass down hard. You’re sitting all the way down on Oz’s wide lap, stuffing the rest of him in. He’s thicker than he is long, but god, it’s everything you thought it would be. He vocalizes, surprised at your determination. You still, letting your walls accommodate the girth of the man beneath you. 
“Hoo, baby...” 
The tiniest little movements have him clenching his jaw, hissing through his teeth. And then… with his hand casually holding onto your hip, Oz starts to rut his hips up into you. It’s just enough to rock your body up and down and move his cock inside you. 
He grunts underneath you, his grasp tightening on the satin of your dress. He craves skin, and his hand slides into the space between your dress and your back. You can’t help but let out the tiniest of whimpers at the feeling of being so full – you don’t remember the last time you were stretched like that. Your dress pools, hanging heavy between your legs and concealing your leaking core. 
Abruptly, the collective sound of high heels approaches, and your eyes snap up to the glass windows. A group of girls crowds the room parallel, and the second one of them spots you two, they’re heading your way. Oz stops moving. 
“Alright… quiet, doll.” He slaps your hip a few times. It’s a warning, and one you immediately heed, straightening up, tucking your hips into a more natural sitting position. His cock twitches inside you, and you swallow back the noise that bubbles up your throat. 
“Ozzy,” the girls coo in unison. One of them has a martini in her hand and asks who you are. God, they’re all so beautiful, you think. Insecurity threatens, but the stretching between your legs calms it.
Leaning to the side to meet their gaze, he tells them your name, proudly – the bastard – and you wave, sheepishly, trying not to allude to the fact that Oz’s girthy cock is buried inside you. Maybe they know. Maybe he’s done this before. You swallow hard, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 
“We was just havin’ a meeting. She’s thinkin’ of workin’ here.” A bold faced lie, but it distracts the women from looking too hard at the scene in front of them. They all titter excitedly, delighted by the prospect of having another friend to play with.  
“Oz takes real good care of us,” one of them chimes in, earnestly. “You’d love it here.” 
You clench around his cock as hard as you can, your internal muscles squeezing him in a vice. You smile as naturally as you can at the girls as Oz continues speaking casually. The man’s poker face must be insane because he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t give away a single thing. 
“Alright, alright. Girls, what am I payin’ ya for, huh? Get down there.” 
In a flurry of nods and apologies, the women disperse, heading back down to the throbbing club below them. The sound of their high heels clicking down the stairs fades away, replaced by the dull, muffled thrumming of the music below. As soon as you two are alone again, Oz bucks his hips up into you hard, almost painfully, pulling a low groan from your throat.
“Tell me how good that feels, sweetheart. Tell me.” The roughness of his voice, the harshness of his accent makes everything sound intense, but the desperation in which he asks that isn’t lost on you. He’s practically begging you to tell him, revealing a deep-rooted hunger for praise. You wet your throat, and lean your head back onto his shoulder, bringing your hand up around to the back of his wide neck; the flesh is warm and damp with sweat.
“It feels so good.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Y-yeah…” You close your eyes, wincing slightly at the way his cock bullies you and stretches you open. “So good, Oz. I’ve thought about this… so many times.”
His hips rut up into you, finding a hungry, incessant rhythm and your slick walls clench around him. The action brings a choking grunt from his mouth, and your ego swells with the control. An idea blossoms. You straighten up; setting your hips and grinding them back and forth on his lap. Beneath you, Oz moans, his grip on you tightening. You feel his large body shudder, and a cocky smile curls its way around your lips. 
“You like that, Oz? You like me fucking you like that?” 
He nods, breathlessly, reaching up to palm the sweat that drips into his brow. 
“Tell me,” you whisper, arching your body against his. 
“I l-like the way you’re fuckin’ me. It feels real fuckin’ good… ” He grumbles, pleased. “Feelin’ that tight pussy uh yours… like heaven, doll.” 
You whine at that, loving the way it sounds coming from his mouth. Your hips gyrate, continuing their ruthless pattern on his cock. His hand strays from your hip and juts between your legs, finding your cunt. His thick fingers slip between your folds, stroking you just enough to drive your orgasm closer to the edge. You whimper, tossing your head back. 
Oz’s gaze drops from your back to your ass, watching as the flesh swells when you push back against him. God damn. It’s a perfect fuckin’ view, and he sucks in a deep breath. Every muscle in his body tightens, even if he ain’t ready for that.  
“Aw, fuck–” he grunts, low. Deep in his stomach, his muscles clench, trying hard to stave off the oncoming orgasm. His eyes open, focusing on the ceiling, the sound of the music, anything except for the way you’re ridin’ him. It ain’t workin’, because he feels his whole body tense up. Fuck. 
His hand goes slack between your legs and you grit your teeth, bringing your brows together in a pained expression. The dual stimulation was nice, but the way his cock massages your walls, stretching them out and filling you in a way that has you gasping is enough to drive you mad. You’re thankful that the music is so loud beneath you, because your desperate mewls and whines are getting higher and higher in pitch. Oz mutters something, something filthy about filling you and you drive your hips back against him. And with that, he loses it. He thrusts his hips up into you a few times, with a frenzied sort of desperation. You feel the heat painting your insides, coating your walls in his ecstasy. Underneath you, Oz’s thrusts have turned languid and lazy. He’s silently justifying the too-quick orgasm with the fact that he had to; anyone could’ve walked in at any time. It had nothing to do with the fact that he’s been like a slobbering dog for you for months. 
Chest heaving, your hips continue rutting back and forth, and Oz shifts underneath you, still panting heavily. It’s tender, but he doesn’t complain. His thrusts continue to slow and you desperately reach between your legs, tapping his hand back to life. “D-don’t stop Oz, please… don’t stop…” 
Behind you, Oz chuckles under his breath and straightens up, having sunk back into the sofa a little too far when he lost it. His thick index finger strokes your clit upwards, and a shiver rips through your body. The coil in your stomach winds tighter as you settle into the oncoming feeling. Still full of him, your slick walls shudder around his cock as the first wave hits. The coil snaps, your thighs clamp shut around his hand, and you look down, sighing loud as he continues flicking between your folds. One of your hands is situated on his thigh, and the other comes to grip his wrist, feeling the cuban link chain beneath your palm.
“That’s it, sweetheart… that’s it…” As you ride it out, bucking your hips against his groin, he coaxes you through your orgasm, both vocally and with the way he massages your clit, the pad of his index finger pressing into it. You can hear the pride in his voice, it’s absolutely dripping with it. “Atta’ girl. Feels fuckin’ good, don’t it?”
You try to speak, but nothing comes out. You furiously nod your head as your legs begin to tremble. He doesn’t stop, and your immediate reaction is to dig your nails into the flesh of his hand, silently begging. 
“You good, doll?” 
“Y-yeah. I’m… wow.” 
Oz removes his hand from between your legs, and strokes the side of your thigh, gently. Tenderly. For a moment, you stay like that, just enjoying all of the post-coital sensations. Eventually, you get to your feet, curious about how the patrons downstairs are faring. Speaking of dripping… You swallow hard, and press your thighs together. 
While still in front of Oz, you straighten yourself out, pulling your dress back down over your hips. Now, you’re suddenly aware of the throbbing beat beneath your feet and make your way over to the window. 
“How about that tour?” You ask, running a nail along the glass that overlooks the dancefloor below you. After a few moments, you feel Oz’s presence behind you, his stomach pressing into the curve of your back. 
“I thought you weren’t a clubbin’ girl…” he murmurs throatily, in between kisses to your neck. You tilt your head, allowing more space for him to smother. 
“Well,” you confess, honesty tinging your voice. “I’m not. But it’s not every day you get invited to the most elite nightclub in Gotham City.” You shrug. “Might as well.”
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janeeyrewannabe · 3 months ago
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are we rockin with simon paired up with a reader who cries a lot 🤥
big cryer big sobber
oh we are
not proofread sorry 😕
wc: <1000
as a crybaby myself this is very close to my heart. Maybe you’re crying about something insignificant or maybe something just feels off. It honestly doesn't take much to set you off. I don’t think simon has a problem with you expressing emotion, i think that he just doesn’t know how to react. The way your shoulders shake as you sob with your head in your hands doesn’t exactly bring out a pleasant feeling in him.
I think that as time goes on he handles it with more grace. He knows what makes you feel better and what will make things worse (he’s learned that one the hard way). Simon says shit just to say shit and it does not help anyone 99 percent of the time. You’ve never witnessed someone screw something up so badly and find all the right words in the same sentence.
This time you’re crying about some asshole at work. Simon’s well versed in the mechanics of your emotional turmoil at this point. He’ll cradle you in his arms and whisper saccharine words of support in your ear. The pressure of his strong hold around your body and your heart calm you down better than any substance ever could. With your head on his chest, the smooth thump of his heartbeat is interrupted by Simon's voice, “I’ll take care of it for you baby.”
You take it as a joke with a breathy laugh and snort following his statement, but the stern look on his face shows he’s dead serious. You won't be surprised if you see him tomorrow with bruised knuckles and a busted lip. It’s not the first time and it won't be the last.
The only time simon likes to see you cry is when you’re having sex. Lithe body beneath him, face contorted in pleasure. Mouth wide open with loud obscene moans tumbling out that would make a pornstar blush, eyes glossed over with exhaustion. You’re on round whatever at this point. The friction of the coarse hair above his cock against your clit makes it all even more painful. He sees your pained expression, red eyes and mascara covered cheeks. “what’s wrong baby, hmm?” condescending tone dripping with honey.
“Please simon” your words are barely audible but the way his name rolls off your tongue makes him drop his head and groan into your neck. He’s taking his sweet time tonight, languid strokes in a painstakingly constant rhythm, tip of his cock kissing your cervix. “come inside me please, I need you” you say with furrowed brows and desperation creeping in your voice as hot tears stream down your face. He won't admit the effect that this has on him though, not explicitly. You can see it anyways, the way his grunts become more frequent and his white knuckle grip on the sheets beside your head.
You’re so far gone you can't even form words anymore, only gasps and incoherent jumbles of vowels. Simon slips one of his hands between the two of you, thumbing your clit with the conviction of a madman. The new sensation of his firm touch is the final straw that “Oh, god, oh my god, im gonna-” You reach your peak convulsing under his body with your slick running down between the two of you and onto the bed sheets. The atmosphere in your shared space hot and heavy with lust.
“Please,” you whine as you angle your hips towards him and the new position sends him over the edge. His orgasm has him seeing white. He collapses on top of you and his body weight crushed you only a little bit. The feeling of your fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck combined with a sniffle pulls Simon out of his delirious state.
“Feeling better?” he says with a familiar condescending tone.
sorry for not posting for like a month, every time I sit down to write I hate everything about it 😊 I have some more things cooking up don't worry. u guys know the drill, please comment and like and reblog!!!!! 🤍🤍🤍
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lostreverb · 4 months ago
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RANDOM LUKE COOPER HC'S
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a/n: writing a fic for him and he's just so cute and i keep getting ideas for him ahh my cinephile bf i need him might fuck around and write some NSFW ones later (SORRY THIS IS REALLY LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY) bf! headcanons are here!!
he's very quiet if he's not talking about movies
not audibly just like only gives one word or one sentence answers
which means he's a VERY dry texter (it's not personal he's just like that)
though he does post his every unfiltered thought to his twitter (which has SOO many followers like a shitton)
doesn't understand typing in lowercase and thinks it's dumb (but if you type in lowercase he won't call it dumb but he'll express he thinks it's weird)
has the worst handwriting ever but that's because it's almost like a kind of unreadable script (like doctor handwriting)
he listens to all kinds of music really aside from like pop or country
also really likes monty python
he really likes musicals (singing in the rain, phantom of the opera, the sound of music) b/c he was introduced to them when he was very young so they're very nostalgic for him
but he'll never mention it because his friends would make fun of him for it
(would LOVEEEEEEEE la la land)
used to read books a lot more when he was younger
is a superhero comic book fan
he can play piano really well (parents made him play) he just doesn't give a fuck about piano
he's also like crazy smart and would do super well in school if he applied himself he just doesn't care
he really wants to switch his major to film studies but his parents wouldn't approve (but he's thinking about doing it anyway)
became completely desensitized to gore and nudity at a young age because he'd always just watch whatever movies his dad put on
wrote a series of letters to quentin tarantino as a kid and got one letter back and it's his most prized possession
likes maintaining eye contact with people for too long because it makes them uncomfortable
just generally likes messing with people and being a little shit b/c he likes how easy it is to mess with ppls emotions cause they're so predictable (which is kinda a red flag but he's never really taken something too far)
b/c of this no one really takes him seriously which bothers him a bit but he knows it's his fault
which is why when you do actually take interest in what he says he finds himself falling for you
he never got "lost" in the forest with michael he just hates being in nature and michael was annoying him so he walked back to the car
after a bit he looked outside and saw everyone panicking so he got out and went back to the group and everyone was acting like he died
he thinks it was too far for his parents to cut michael off but he also didn't care
thinks michael's annoying at times but the things he does are funny and he uses him as content for his twitter
has been so engrossed in his own world his whole life he doesn't think about girls
though his main crushes are sarah connor (terminator), the bride (kill bill), storm (x-men), and mikaela banes (transformers - but he hates the transformer movies)
but he has very little or no experience at all
he's probably the first in his friend group to have a girlfriend too
his only knowledge about talking to girls is from movies so yk the james bonds, george clooney, harrison ford are his main influences
which means if he has a crush on you he'll just stare at you all the time, bother and tease you relentlessly and try to banter cause that's the only way he knows how to get closer
he'll also try by memorizing your coffee order
if you don't drink coffee he'll try to find out what you do drink (without directly asking you)
he'll never confess, you'll have to first and use the most straightforward language or else he won't take a hint
once you start dating he has no idea how to treat you anymore
he just constantly flips between being the sweetest bf ever and the bane of your existence
if he annoys you too much and you get upset his first response will be "what? i didn't even do anything" or some other cheeky response
you'll have to help him to unlearn that
though he's a very caring boyfriend and would help you carry things around the office and drive you places and get you presents
doesn't give a fuck about most things (other than you and movies)
he just is so obsessed with you and loves being around you all the time
he's not incredibly keen on pda but sometimes he'll hold your hand and kiss your cheek in public
if you kiss him in front of other people he'll get really flustered and be noticeably disoriented for a bit after
feels weird using pet names but he'll use the occasional baby or babe
he'll discover how good it feels to cuddle it'll be his favorite thing to do along with watching movies with you
run your hands through / play with his hair and he'll fold completely
the first time you do it he'll probably involuntarily moan and get so embarrassed about it it'll take a few weeks before he'll let you do it again
during those few weeks he'll think about how your hands felt almost obsessively he's never felt anything like it
he'll create a list of movies to watch with you and once a month he'll let you choose the movie
he's really good at gift giving because he makes sure to pay extra attention to the things you like (especially movie related things bc he has good contacts)
he's definitely one of the first people to ever use letterboxd
he loves being able to drop you off at home from work because more often than not you'll stop someplace to get something to eat or head to his place and watch a movie and he loves doing that with you
he also likes picking you up in the morning because then you get to go on his coffee run with him (you'll make sure everyone's orders are correct and he'll whine and groan about it saying it's not worth the time but he appreciates it)
will definitely get you to do his work for him
his work clothes used to belong to his dad which is why they're just a tad too big for him
outside of work he typically wears zip-up hoodies and jeans with a graphic t-shirt (probably related to a film he likes)
instead of a bookshelf, he has a DVD shelf in his room (that's very well organized and categorized)
and he has a really high end tv and surround sound system that he and his dad paid for
he researched how movie theatres make their popcorn and buys the special ingredients directly from one by his house
used to have the whole script of citizen kane memorized but it's been a second since he last recited it
he's written his own scripts before but he doesn't think they're any good (he's pretty hard on himself about it)
but if he does end up making a project he'll 100% cast you in it
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readerstories · 3 months ago
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When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 4/?
Sorry for the short chapter with the wait, but! This was supposed to be a 5+1 scenario thing, and I got all of the 5 scenarios finished (other than a grammar read through), so that means I have stuff that I can actually schedule posting :3 Next chapter on Sunday! (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)
Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn
Wordcount: 931
Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.
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You shouldn’t have left as quickly as you did, you realize in hindsight.
You had gone there to talk, to make some sort of deal so you could minimize the side effects, and the amount spent with your soulmate. Instead of the universe letting you follow your plan, you found out you had another soulmate, fought him (for less than a minute), tore your stitches, and then got stitched up by your first soulmate.
It was a lot of things. 
Confusing, a mess, weird. 
So you panicked, and ran.
At least it seems they are managing to tame their bonds to you somewhat, as you no longer constantly feel their feelings in the back of your mind. You absentmindedly wonder if it’s easy for them, if they’ve had training with each other. How long have they been together even? You shook your head, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that the bonds have turned to a low hum, almost like the noise of a fridge that you tune out as background noise, instead of everongoing chatter.
You are happy about that.
So you don’t seek them out again. 
You don’t want to. 
For as long as you can.
You know you will have to eventually, the side effects will not be pleasant.
But for now, you don’t want them near you.
However, it seems the universe has other plans for you.
Because of fucking course it does.
You meet Wade first, again. 
While working, again.
It’s only been a week, and though Evelyn had told you to rest, there is no rest for the wicked. Or something like that.
The job was supposed to be easy anyway.
Emphasis on supposed to.
Because the universe decides to send Wade your way.
Of fucking course.
It was just being a guard at some rich guy's house party, standing with another guard, keeping watch. Plenty of booze, food, drugs, women and men in skimpy clothing. So far it had gone well, the only thing you had had to do was turn down a few unwanted advantages from some of the aforementioned skimpily clothed people that had gotten terribly lost in their drunken and drugged state.
All you had done was go to the bathroom, checking on your bandages quickly and taking a piss.
When you return, it’s to find the other guard slumped against a wall. You swear, running over, checking for a pulse as you kneel down, gun now in hand. He’s breathing, you reach for your radio, but stop as you feel a gun pressed into the back of your skull.
Fuck.
“Should you even be working right now?”
Double fuck.
You turn around, the gun backs off just enough that it doesn’t brush your nose as you turn around. It follows you as you stand up, your own gun still in your hand, though you don’t aim it.
“Wade.” One of your soulmates- The man stands in front of you, dressed in a red suit like the first time you saw him, weapons and all. One of them currently pointing at you.
“Awwww, you remember my name!” The gun is aimed at your forehead. Around the muzzle it says “smile for the flash” in golden letters. You think you should feel some fear, but there’s none.
You lean forward, saying nothing while keeping a straight face, wondering if you will feel its cold kiss against the warm skin of your forehead. Before you can, Wade shifts the gun so it’s aiming at your shoulder instead, face still and unreadable to you behind his mask.
“You really should be resting, pookie, wounds like that don’t heal overnight, and even if you might get some of our healing eventually, we have not spent any time together for that to happen!” His tone is chipper, if a little strained. Your anger mixes with confusion, and though you want to ask what the fuck he means, you ask something completely different instead.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Now you can tell he’s pouting under the mask as you look him up and down.
“Boooo, keeping it professional. Oh well, I’ll get more of you later. I’m here to scare the ever living shit out of the shady guy that hired you, so he’ll cough up the fuck-ton of money he owes the shady people that hired me. Can’t kill him, but I can maim. And kill people in the way.” That last part is added as an afterthought, and if the universe was any part sane, you would feel a tinge of fear.
It’s not though, so all you feel is annoyance.
“God damn it Wade.” You rub your face, debating on shooting him just so he’ll do something about his own gun that’s still aimed at your shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah, a phrase loved by many. Oh, since I’m at work, it’s Deadpool. Sorry in advance.”
“Wha-” You don’t get to say anything more, as the butt of Wade’s gun connects with your head, and the world goes black.
—--
When you wake up, it’s to the fire alarm blaring and the sprinklers going, soaking everything and everyone..
Wade, or Deadpool, you guess, did not kill the guy he was after. He did maim him though (he is missing a leg now), and then seemingly for funises, set a vase of roses on fire in the guy’s bedroom. 
Because of this, your clothes are still soggy by the time you make it home, and you curse up a storm as you peel yourself out of them, a headache forming.
Fucking Deadpool.
Fucking Wade.
(Part 5)
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star-girl69 · 5 months ago
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Caught You Girl
Georgia Amoore x Fem!Reader
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synopsis: georgia fiercely defends what is hers
also hi new pfp 😝
a/n: sorry for not posting in 10 years lol… shoutout to my wifey @cosmopretty bc she helped me w this 🫶 also the pictures at the beginning are from her…. tbh this fic would not exist without her everyone say thank you! this is also so bad but it’s ok ❤️
Caught You Boy - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)
warnings: mentions of sex, lots of swearing, that’s it i think but lmk if i missed anything!!
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@/georgiaamoore my girlfriend is hotter than you and smarter than you and just better tbh (anyways happy 6 months my sweet girl can’t believe we kept it hidden for this long)
y/n.l/n it’s sweet that you think so highly of me but i thought you knew… i’m straight…
georgiaamoore @y/n.l/n bloody hell spare me
kamoreaarnold SOOO WHEN WE GETTING YOUR GIRL ON THE LIVE
y/n.l/n @kamoreaarnold wait i’m important enough to be on a KK ARNOLD LIVE????
kamoreaarnold @y/n.l/n GIRL YES WTF??
user-1 OKAYYYY HARD LAUNCH 😍
user-2 WHO STOLE MY WIFE.
user-3 @/user-2 she’s @y/n.l/n and did you not read the caption? she’s better than you
user-4 let me in there 😫😫
user-5 OMG I’m so happy for y’all 🫶
nika.muhl I feel like a proud mother
You are definitely not famous, despite the ten thousand followers that appeared out of nowhere, but your girlfriend and your friends definitely are.
You’ve been sitting on the floor for a few minutes now, KK Arnold’s phone propped up on the low coffee table in front of you, staring in shock at the rising viewers and the comments that pour in faster than you can read some of them.
Your jaw actually drops a bit when the viewer count hits 300.
You’re not famous. You’re not good in the spotlight. You’re awkward and you stutter over your words, you can’t get it out of your head how many people are watching you and analyzing everything you do.
You’re the new girl. The new person to pick apart.
And even worse, you’re Georgia’s girlfriend. And if the fans didn’t know about her official 6 month post, they can definitely see now that you’re more than friends.
Georgia has her arm wrapped around your shoulders, tucking you into her side- allowing you to feel like you’re hiding away from at least some of the prying eyes as you play with her other hand in her lap.
Her fingers softly work out nonexistent knots at the ends of your hair, and the comforting sound of her and KK’s laughs makes you feel a little bit calmer. You don’t quite forget that all the eyes are there, but they dull.
Another one of the girls here appears over KK’s shoulder, talking to the live, so Georgia turns to you. She presses a kiss to your forehead, keeping her lips there while she whispers softly.
It’s nice not having to worry about keeping your relationship hidden. It’s not like you wanted a secret relationship, it was actually Georgia’s idea. She wanted to make sure you were comfortable and all-in before she introduced you to the world of social media fame.
The one thing that’s not a secret, that’s never really been a secret, is how protective Georgia is.
You joke that it must be something to do with her being Australian, although you don’t really have an idea where that comes from.
She posted a few pictures of you in them, but she never tagged you, and your face was always pretty much hidden- she even posted a picture of the sunset and blocked out your face with her hand, laughing the entire time she did so at how ridiculous it was.
Even though you both knew there was no way she was taking that picture without covering your face.
Georgia didn’t want you to get spooked by how overbearing the fans could be- and she admitted that she selfishly wanted to keep you to herself. But you kinda wanted everyone to know that you were hers and she was yours.
And Georgia was always down for that.
You were trying it. And Georgia was there, at least. And you know you never have to worry about anything when she’s there.
“You okay, princess?”
“I’m fine,” you mumble back, careful not to let your lips move too much so the camera can’t tell what you’re saying.
“Yeah?” She says, squeezing your shoulder, prodding gently.
“I’m good,” you reassure her, smiling. You still feel kinda awkward, and she notices the way you look away from her.
“Are you sure, baby? Because if you’re not comfortable then I’ll end it right now. Or we can just leave altogether. We can grab food, if you’re hungry. Or just go home and sleep.”
“Hey, babe?”
“Yeah?” Her eyes are wide and concerned, her entire focus is poured onto you. Her eyes rake over your body language, her thumb rubs soothing circles into your shoulder, and your hand is caressed softly by hers.
“Stop spiraling.”
She smiles, squinting at you. “Hah. You’re funny.”
“I know I am. Seriously, though, I’m fine. I’ll tell you when I want to leave, okay?”
She’ll drag you away from this live at the first inkling of you wanting to leave. And even if you want to stay, she might drag you away anyways if she’s decided she’s done sharing.
She blinks for a long second.
“Okay, yeah. But seriously, tell me. Even if-”
“Georgia.”
She presses a quick kiss to your cheek, but when that does nothing to lift your unimpressed frown, she kisses your lips.
“Sorry?”
You roll your eyes, looking away from her as she kisses your cheek yet again, this time letting her lips linger. She’s about to say something, you can tell- probably jokingly beg for forgiveness, but you can’t help but notice KK’s side eye in the camera.
“Yes, KK?” You ask with a smile.
She crosses her arms and pouts. “Some of us are single, you know.”
“Awww,” the other girl coos, wrapping her arms around KK’s shoulders. “Is little KK feeling a little lonely? Does little baby need a hug?”
“Man, get off me,” KK says, still with a pout on her face, eyebrows furrowed. She props her elbows onto the coffee table while the rest of you burst into laughter at her antics. “Anyways. Y’all got any questions or anything?”
Georgia’s arm falls down from your shoulders to your waist, her nails lightly scratching your side.
“Who is the new girl?” KK reads off of the screen. “Y’all so rude, damn. This is Y/N, my new best friend and love of my life.”
You laugh, awkwardly waving to the screen.
“Y/N who are you?” KK reads another awkwardly worded comment.
Georgia makes a face and squeezes your waist, silently telling you that you don’t have to answer.
“Who am I? Um… I’m Y/N, I’m twenty-two, I’m in college right now…” You trail off, trying to think of something interesting to say. “My favorite color is pink?”
“Girl why was that a question?” KK laughs.
“I don’t know what to say!” You exclaim, gesturing to the phone. “There’s- oh, my God there’s 856 people on here. Why are you like really famous? Holy shit.”
“Thank you,” KK smiles, twirling a piece of her hair.
Georgia puts her free hand on the side of your face, angling you towards her as she narrows her eyes at the camera.
“She is also my girlfriend. So don’t get any ideas.”
“Girl, I think they can tell,” KK laughs, gesturing to the way you and Georgia are practically glued together.
Georgia shrugs. “I love my girlfriend.”
“We can tell.”
The comments immediately flood in. Some of them are talking about how cute the two of you are, a few of them are obvious jokes about you stealing everyone’s wife, but the one that sticks out to you isn’t anything like that.
wbblvr552022 THAT is georgia amoore’s gf? does she need her eyes checked 😭
You swallow, but thankfully there are so many comments pouring in that no one else seems to catch it.
“When’d you guys meet?” KK reads. “Oh, Q and A time, guys.”
Georgia immediately breaks out into a wide smile, contagious, one that makes you smile too.
She squeezes your waist in excitement before immediately launching into a dramatic retelling of her seeing you with your friends after a game, then her subtle way of inviting you to the next game in the set, then her subtle way of getting your number.
“And… the rest is history.”
KK laughs at the corny phrase, and you can’t help but smile either.
You lean forward to read more comments. “Oh, Georgia- what is your favorite thing about me?”
Georgia immediately presses her mouth into a line.
KK exaggeratedly turns towards the two of you, waiting patiently for an answer. “Don’t be shy, girly. I’m excited to hear this one.”
“I don’t think I should answer,” Georgia says, grimacing slightly. “Feels like a trap.”
“Well, there’s definitely wrong answers.” You pat her cheek with a smile. “C’mon, give it a try.”
“Umm… everything.”
You hum, pretending to think about it. “I’ll accept it.”
“What?” She asks, her eyes wide. “What the fuck is the right answer, then?”
You press your finger to her lips, shushing her. “Don’t worry about it, babe. You’ll get it one day.”
She rolls her eyes, but kisses the pad of your finger pressed against her lips. You can’t help but smile, wondering if the camera picked up that small movement- but you also find yourself not really caring.
wbblvr552022 is it possible to have a favorite thing about y/n? girl is UGLY
user-1 @wbblvr552022 hey this is actually insane!
user-2 @wbblvr552022 wtf is wrong w u?
You frown.
You can’t keep the look off of your face, you can’t help the sudden tightness in your chest and the thoughts facing through your mind.
Why are they so mean? What did you ever do to them? Are they just jealous? Or are they just right?
Do you deserve Georgia?
KK, surprisingly, is the first to notice your frown in the reflection. Her eyes meet yours, and she doesn’t say anything for a second.
She subtlety covers her mouth with her hand.
“You good?”
You’re really thankful that Georgia has suddenly turned away from the two of you to talk over her shoulder with a few girls behind you. You don’t even know their names, you don’t even care.
You smile in response.
You grab Georgia’s free hand, and she automatically tightens her arm around your waist. You tuck yourself into her, breathing in her comforting scent.
She turns back to the camera, barely even noticing the way you’re tucked into her- she’s just happy you’re touching her. You watch her smile at the camera and feel her squeeze your hand.
“Y/N’s sad?” She suddenly asks. She frowns at the screen, and your eyes widen-
user-1 y/n disappearing into georgia over there 😭😭😭
user-2 @/user-1 GOD they’re so cute i cant
user-3 y/n looks kinda sad tho??
user-1 wait you’re right y/n girl what’s wrong
You make a face and do your best to brush it off.
“I’m just tired.” You swear Georgia can hear the lie. “Thank you guys for worrying, though.” You flash the camera a bright smile and a thumbs-up.
wbblvr552022 GIRL put those chompers away 😭
user-1 @wbblvr552022 HELLO???? YALL SEEING THIS?
Georgia is not convinced that you’re okay. You can tell. She’s kinda tense against you, and she keeps looking towards the door like she’s ready to just throw you over her shoulder and leave.
She tries to meet your eyes, but you’re persistent in avoiding her, instead staring at yourself in the camera. You know that as soon as she looks at you, she’ll see it in your eyes. The bit of doubt you can’t hide.
What if they’re just right?
She suddenly squints at the camera, her eyes narrowing as she grabs it- despite KK’s protest- scrolling up as your heart slams in your chest.
“The fuck?”
The pure venom she spits those simple words out with makes KK stop trying to get her phone back.
“Georgia-” You start, squeezing the hand you’re still holding- she lets go of your hand to hold the phone.
“Sorry,” she mutters, her eyes scanning over the comments.
user-1 nice up close view i see
user-2 you got something in your nose queen
wbblvr552022 break up w your ugly ass girlfriend… cause im bored 🎶
“Are you fucking serious right now?”
“Um, hey… G?” KK starts, confused and smiling in a slightly scared way. “What’s goin’ on..?”
user-1 who the fuck is @wbblvr552022 and why have they been literally bullying y/n in the chat…
Your heart is beating so fast right now it’s roaring in your ears. Something inside of you just knows that the only way someone could get this kind of reaction out of Georgia is if they hurt you.
And as much as you hate to admit it, your heart keeps snagging on something in your chest. It does kinda hurt, as much as you want to rise above it.
Georgia hands KK’s phone back to her. She turns to you. Fuck.
“You saw those, didn’t you?”
“Georgia,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. “It’s just some random person on the internet. Yes, I saw it, but it doesn’t matter what they say, right?”
Your words sound confident and mature, and maybe if your voice could have displayed that too then Georgia would have let it go.
But you’re lying to her- and yourself.
It does fucking bother you, it does make you feel like shit- it makes you want to never go in front of a camera again.
“It’s nothing.”
You finally meet her eyes.
Maybe her being this pissed off should scare you, or concern you- but honestly? The fire in her eyes only ignites a fire inside of you. Deep in your stomach.
“It’s not fucking nothing, the fuck? No, no one gets to treat you like that. No one gets to make you sad.”
You put your hand on her face.
“Babe, it’s really sweet that you want to protect me, but you’re just gonna drag it out and make it worse, yeah? Okay? I appreciate it and I love you, but it’s okay.”
She looks away from you, trying to take a deep breath that sounds more like a pissed-off huff, and your heart is still fucking snagging on something-
“You love me, right?”
You blurt it out before you can even think, all small and insecure, chasing her love and affection that you know you have. At least, you should know you have it. But it’s like something inside of you screaming that you just need to hear it, that she loves you, and you know you’ll regret it forever if you don’t hear her say it right now.
“Fuck this,” Georgia says, practically hissing the words.
She sticks her hand out and KK- who sweetly has been doing her best to not listen to the conversation- gives the phone back.
Georgia props the camera up again, angling it so it’s only on her.
“I’m not fuckin’ playing, okay? I don’t know what the fuck is your problem, but I will literally kill you if you keep saying shit about my girlfriend.” She laughs dryly, but everyone knows there’s nothing funny about the look in her eyes and the conviction in her words. “Don’t talk about her, don’t think about her- don’t worry about my girl, she’s good with me. Worry about yourself when I fucking find you.”
She lets the phone fall back onto the table, crossing her arms, and you can tell that there’s still thoughts racing through her head.
KK slowly grabs the phone.
“Well… y’all heard her. I think it’s time to go, though… so, bye-bye girly-pops!”
She presses a button and closes her phone, and you watch the screen turn to black.
“Well,” you start, looking between Georgia and KK. “That was… something!”
Georgia sighs, itching her nose. “Sorry, baby.”
“Excuse?” KK asks.
Georgia barely cracks a smile. “Sorry, KK.”
“So… uhm… what the fuck happened?”
Georgia gestures towards the phone, huffing. “Someone was talking shit about Y/N. Like, calling her ugly, I- fuck.” She takes a deep breath. “Yeah.”
“Man, really? I’m sorry, Y/N- I would have blocked them if I saw it.”
You smile. “It’s not your fault, K. And it’s not that big of a deal, really. I mean, it sucks, but whatever. I should get used to it, right?”
Georgia laughs. “No. I am never posting you again. I’m never letting you be in a live ever again. They can’t treat you right then they don’t get to see you.”
KK makes a face that forces you to stifle a giggle. “Okay, Ms. Possessive-and-Controlling.”
She smiles. “Is that a bad thing?”
Your cheeks suddenly feel hot, because it’s really not. And you know Georgia is mostly speaking out of anger- she’s not really gonna keep you hidden from the world of social media. She might, for a week or two, but then she’ll probably forget.
“It’s been a lot of fun, KK, but maybe Georgia and I should go home..?”
Suddenly, she has the biggest grin on her face.
—-
Laying with Georgia in your comfy bed, wrapped in comfy blankets, shrouded by darkness with her chest as your pillow is probably where you feel safest. Nothing can reach you here. Social media or physical, you’re completely safe in her arms and the darkness.
“Happy?” You mutter into the darkness, smiling as you think of how mad she was just an hour ago.
“I’m really bloody happy, actually.”
“Very long night of sharing me, huh? Poor baby.”
“I agree,” she yawns. “We shouldn’t ever go out again. We should just stay in this amazing bed.”
“Okay, baby,” you mutter with an eye roll, humoring her.
“Y/N,” she says after a blissful moment. You can hear it in her voice. The concern, the hesitation. “I love you. I love you so much sometimes I’m kinda convinced you put a spell on me. Like, it shouldn’t be possible to love someone this much.”
You smile.
“I’ve caught you in my web,” you tease. “But you walked right into it.”
“Yeah, I did,” she laughs. “But I love you. You shouldn’t have to question that. I’m not doing my job as your girlfriend if you do.”
She kisses your forehead.
“All I want is for you to be happy… right next to me, though.”
You sit up, placing your hands on her chest as you swing one of your legs over her waist.
“I don’t have any plans of leaving. Do you?”
Her hands immediately move to rub up and down you thighs.
“Nope. Also, I change my mind. I want you to be happy on top of me. Or under me, I’m not picky.”
You laugh, leaning down so you can kiss her nose. You hands work out knots in her perpetually tense shoulders.
“Always thinkin’ about sex,” you mutter.
“Always thinkin’ ‘bout you,” she corrects. “And fucking you.”
You’re about to kiss her when she suddenly pulls back.
“You’re sure you’re good?”
You smile at her sweet concern for you.
“Yes, Georgia, I’m good. I mean… I felt kinda shitty for a second. Doubting that I was good enough for you- it’s silly. I know I am. And I’m… trying not to care about what they think.”
She brushes some hair behind your ear, nodding.
“You know I love you, right?” She smiles when she says it, because both of you know she tells you and shows you possibly too much.
“I know you love me,” you smile, your lips ghosting over hers. “I love you, too, my basketball star.” You press a kiss to the corner of her lips- then her chin, and you’re about to kiss her neck-
“As sexy as that is, I still want to show you how much I love you. You doubted I loved you today. We can’t have that happening.”
She sits up, and you sit back on your heels, rolling your eyes. “I know you love me. It was a millisecond, babe-”
Her hands squeeze your waist.
“Why don’t you just shut your pretty mouth and lay on your back?” She kisses your neck, that one special place that only she knows to kiss, the place that she found by loving you and now covets like treasure.
A moan immediately spills out of your mouth.
“I can do that,” you breathe, reveling in the way her hands feel as she helps you lay back.
“I know you can, baby,” she smiles. “Be a good girl, now, yeah? Let me love you.”
You’re really fucking glad that you caught this girl.
—-
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doberbutts · 12 days ago
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hello! I'm the one that sent you that ask a week or so ago. Sorry I didn't check to see if you'd answered for a while because I was just so upset and had to take a second. I will say I scrolled through a bunch of helpful posts you reblogged before I even found the ask again that helped a LOT.
Two things I thought you might want to know is that it wasn't speculation that you'd blocked the weirdo blog that sent me your way: they literally have "proudly blocked by doberbutts" in their bio which was why i felt safe coming to you lmao. Second is I guess my struggle with this issue was an overall struggle with how bad wider misogyny has gotten in general and how muddied it's gotten with the "male loneliness crisis" and like, centering men's issues under patriarchy and just how insanely upset it's been making me. Seeing cis MRAs identify with trans men freaked me out because like, yeah it's important to talk about how (cis) men suffer under patriarchy but it's just so rare for me to find men do that without devolving into misogyny, and I start to feel so helpless because I know validating these issues matter but women are being literally dehumanized openly. I do play oppression olympics with this specific issue and just of COURSE women suffer more under patriarchy, but the same men who demand space to air how they suffer won't acknowledge that truth. (sorry for soapboxing; some of them do! It's just...things are so bad for women rn lol it's really hard to have compassion when it feels like none is being given to me).
So the more I see this issue the more I think people are being affected by larger misogyny like I am, but are doing the typical thing that happens where you lash out at a group you can "reach." Policing and harassing trans men's behaviours is way easier than cis men. I've also been seeing some parallels between this discourse and the "gay men vs lesbian women" discourse. It's not really a one-to-one but the discussion of the role of misogyny re homophobia towards gay men who still have male privilege but, come on, if they have feminine affectation it's Different and the back and forth that used to happen when gay men and lesbian women did oppression olympics, it just feels similar.
idk as i type this I hope I don't come across disingenuous or like, my Too Casual Overly Respectful tone is trying to subtly incept you. I worry my vibes are too "women first" but I just can't help it misogyny really is ruining my life 😭. Anyways I'm very grateful for your perspective and your blog. I feel more settled and equipped to push back against anti transmasculine behaviour with rhetoric that can actually challenge people
To respond to each point in turn:
1: Again I still don't really know who that is, though I am somewhat bemused by the idea that someone I clearly don't really remember is still so obsessed with me that they're proud I've blocked them. For the record, my block list is as follows: people who send anonymous hate, people who continue to harass me after I've told them to stop, people I catch with posts containing inexcusable bigotry, obvious trolls, self-identified zoophiles and MAPs, and people who repeatedly send me fundraisers after I have already said I only share fundraisers from people I know and trust. Being on my block list is, um, not really good company, so it's kind of funny to me that someone is proud to be there. Yeah I'm sure they'll fit right in with the neo-nazis and dogfuckers and cyber bullies. Oh and I guess my ex but I only blocked them after they started harassing me about our failed relationship years later. Enjoy block hell I suppose.
2: I'm not really here to play who has it worse, not because I don't recognize the wider understanding of privilege vs oppression but because I think it is a self-defeating thread of thought because you will always find a "more oppressed" example, and I think that people should be allowed to talk about their hurts regardless of their status of "more oppressed" vs "less oppressed". Talking about the ways society has hurt them is not what makes MRAs dangerous. What makes them dangerous is who they blame, how they go about fixing their problem, and the solutions to their problems they come up with.
To be quite frank, the majority of MRAs are men who have experienced some form of social rejection or isolation. Most have been sold some patriarchal lie about how by being men they inherently deserve good sex with hot women on demand, a wife at home to keep barefoot and pregnant, a high paying job where they are respected and valued regardless of the effort they themselves put into it, and all the luxuries that lifestyle can afford. This is a fantasy, you and I both know it. And when these men realize the hard reality that we live in an age of extreme social isolation, that in order to have a partner you need to actually have more personality than a used dishrag and with only half the mess at max, that good sex is about give and take and not just yourself, that these high paying jobs are few and far between with most takers being born into some level of wealth rather than any merit they themselves have earned... they lash out.
It does not at all help things to understand that many of these MRAs are themselves marginalized in some way, but their framework not only doesn't let them see it but also advocates a harsh rejection of anyone who is self-aware enough to realize it. A lot of these guys are undiagnosed, have trauma, and are just as affected by the systems of racism, classism, homo- and trans-phobia, xenophobia, sexism, and ableism as the rest of us.
Quite frankly, I'd rather these dudes see a group of (trans) men fighting for our place in society by joining hands with other activists with more feminist, black-friendly, disabled-friendly, gay- and trans-friendly in an attempt to lift everyone out of the pit rather than continuing to fight over scraps... than to see them continue to blame women and Jews and then go shoot up a school or a mall about it. One of these helps. The other just kills people and excuses rape. There's a lot of value in deradicalizing people by offering them a path to resolving their pain that is perhaps less destructive and more constructive.
This is also why the constant comparison to MRAs annoys me. MRAs kill people in senseless acts of terror and despair because they're upset that they're not having the sex fantasy the patriarchy sold them. Trans men talking about our oppression- regardless of the word we use to express it- are mostly talking amongst ourselves about suicide and rape statistics and sharing ways to get hormones and surgery despite unwilling doctors and insurance companies. We're talking about how our social groups rejected us the moment we came out, or how people use us being men against us in ways that was not happening before we came out or passed. These are not at all equivalent conversations.
3: Again I ask you- I see people using both cis and trans feminist frameworks to hurt other people. Where is your concern for that? I am equally concerned about TERFs as I am about MRAs, as they have driven multiple transgender people and our allies to suicide and even have committed acts of violence against people irl as a result of their ideology. Most TERFs will also be the first ones to tell you that they have been hurt, deeply, by men and that they also are frequently undiagnosed or untreated, traumatized, and affected by the same systems of oppression. Does their existence and their determination to latch onto every feminist conversation including those of people who are staunchly against them then poison all feminism to you? If not, then why make that distinction for trans men and MRAs?
I am black. I am Indigenous. I am transgender. I am gay. I am disabled. I am poor. I suffer. People hurt me. I see every day how bad things are. Do you think I cannot see it, or that my ignorance is the reason for my request for compassion? Perhaps consider that it is rather my knowledge and my lived experience that fuel my call for compassion, instead. I never said it would be easy. But I do think it would make a better world.
4: I do actually agree that it is very similar to the gay man vs lesbian conversation and have said for a while that it's the same queer infighting discussion we've already hashed out for the last 50 or so years, but the target groups just swapped out. It's just butchphobia, it's just biphobia, it's just aphobia, it's just panphobia, it's just nbphobia- it's the same fucking shit over and over and over again. It was shit infighting before and it's shit infighting now. Privilege is a conversation that depends so heavily on context, and the way it has been bastardized by the internet's poor understanding of political frameworks developed by women of color and their allies into cute soundbites and phrases rather than a deep, nuanced knowledge will never fail to annoy me.
Do gay men have privilege over lesbians? As a class, sure, they would have male privilege. But what do we mean by male privilege? The privilege to not worry about being assaulted on the street? To walk home late at night unbothered? To marry who they want, to have the romantic partner they desire, to feel safe within a domestic partnership? You and I both know that doesn't quite match up to the lived experience of gay men worldwide or even here in the "gay paradise" US. How does this interact with other marginalizations? Does a black gay man have privilege over a white lesbian? What happens if he's a drag queen dressed up for an event and she's a butch that passes for cis male? Does that change retroactively if this "gay man" figures out she's actually a transbian 5 years later, and the lesbian is a TERF? I'm not saying this breaks the framework of male privilege- I am saying that sometimes the theory doesn't match the reality, and a nuanced and intersectional understanding is required when talking on an individual scope rather than class politics.
Additionally- as a side note- it is also incredibly annoying to watch people act like privilege = oppressor = dangerous, and oppressed = victim = safe. Privilege, and whether or not you have any, is not a moral indicator nor is it an indicator of the safety of the person you're interacting with. I have privilege over people who cannot walk, because I can. I am not objectively or systemically oppressing people who cannot walk by the use of my legs in my day-to-day life. Oppression is action- if I vote for policies and politicians that removes ramps and safety regulations and provisions to assist wheelchair users? Now I am oppressing people who cannot walk. If I block or move or interfere with the disability aids, if I mock people or assault or harm them, if I dump them out of their mobility aids or break them, that is oppression. The act of climbing the 3 stairs on my front porch to get into my house is a privilege, but the oppression stems from the people who built my house to even have stairs on both exits.
5: lastly to end a very long post, I don't actually think there's any harm in centering yourself when discussing things that objectively affect you, as long as you remember to include others who are affected and let them have their floor to also center themselves when they need to speak up. I am a black trans man. My politics are pretty centered on black feminism. I don't think that is objectively a bad thing. I prefer to let the demographics with similar problems speak for themselves- I would rather my trans fem friends get the mic when they open their mouths, my lesbian friends, my Jewish friends, my latino and asian and arab friends. I don't think there's anything wrong with them centering their own problems and outlooks, as long as they recognize that there's shared space to be had with others who feel similar hurts. I think it's pretty normal to center yourself. I think the difficult thing is knowing when to relinquish the megaphone to someone who's been dying to use it, while you yourself still have so much to say.
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