#but what do i know about him the only thing i know about him is what kind of books he reads and that he also liked nope more than us

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny: You want me to what?

Tim: Give this letter to Batman for me.

Danny: Why?

Tim: I need to tell him something, but I can't give him the option of capturing me.

Danny: But he can catch me?

Tim: He doesn't want you.

Danny: Damn, alright.

Tim: No, sorry, I mean - look, just give him the letter and don't tell him anything about me. Here is 10k in cash. Can you do it?

Danny: For 10K? Yeah, okay.

Ten hours later

Danny: LET ME OUT

Bruce: It's okay, son. We're going to help you get your memories back.

Danny rattling the bars: I'm not Tim Drake. He just hired me to give you the letter!

Bruce: A letter claiming Tim Drake was tired of his life with us and that he was going to become a regular citizen, so don't look for him? Your only involvement with the letter and him is that he paid you to delivery it?

Danny: YES!

Bruce: And the fact you both look exactly alike has nothing to do with this?

Danny: I don't question it. You start questioning stuff and bad things happen to you

Bruce: Bad things like memory loss.

Danny: IM NOT TIM DRAKE. LET ME OUT.

Bruce: Until we know what they did to easrse your memories I'm afraid your going to remain in containment.

Danny: WHY!? I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING

Bruce: You stabbed Jason

Danny: No, he rudely walked into my knife

[the-knight-of-the-stars]

Are we gonna talk about how that finale entirely erased any conversation about class divisions or are we too focused on ships?

Are we gonna talk about how Caitlyn for a good chunk of the season willingly enforces violence and opression against the lowest class, no doubt directly causing more deaths and suffering, and she is forgiven by the narrative without any meaningful reflecting?

Her great moment getting together with Vi is right after she JUST had a conversation with Jinx where we see she STILL doesn't recognize any class bias she clearly has, insted making it about HER.

Her and the other enforcers are treated like noble heroes in the final battle, all the blame put on Ambesa. Vi's happy ending is getting into a relationship with the exact type of person who perpetuated all the suffering she endured as a child.

Are we gonna talk about how Jayce never leaves his privilege pedestal, never actually reflects on how he was also enforcing violence to the people of the undercity and living on his bliss of progress at THEIR expense?

Jayce, who got help on every step of the way to get to where he is, who wasn't disabled, who never lived the kind of poverty or class obstacles Viktor did, who never recognized the harm he enabled and was complicit to, HE was the one to tell Viktor "People build their own destiny." and "There is beauty in imperfection" ?????

Not to mention the whole bit where he implies Viktor did all that because he wanted to "eradicate what he thought was weakness"??? Didn't we stablished Viktor wanted to HELP THE PEOPLE FROM THE UNDERCITY TO HAVE BETTER LIFE CONDITIONS?? don't try to gaslight me.

I know this is just a TV show, but I need to remind everyone that what perpetuates opressive, discriminatory and violent systems as long and as deeply as they do is indiference. Is turning your head and enabling others to stay ignorant.

Edit: You guys are misunderstanding me. And I admit it is probably my fault, I wrote this high with emotion I wasn't as eloquent.

Jayce's exact choice of words or his time living in the alternate world is nowhere near my point.

My point is, that the narrative is establishing that the privileged character, is the one that has to show (and is quite literally, textually, always the one to show) the underprivileged character that "he was looking at life the wrong way." Forgetting that Viktor's journey of feeling powerless was greatly influenced by the fact he was poor and from the undercity.

That's what I meant by it erasing the part of the plot about class systems. In the end, the story only requires Jayce to understand Viktor's struggle on a superficial level, but the text never recognizes that it as the product of a deeply rooted SYSTEMIC ISSUE. One Jayce and even Viktor on some level, benefited from and perpetuated.

Understanding Viktor still doesn't give him any moral ground, and nobody ever challenges him on that because the story isn't interested in that anymore.

And the same with Caitlyn. She knows what she did what's wrong, fine, she feels bad. Like I said, she still has a class bias, and no character challenges her on it again because the story derails to magic and fighting and whatnot.

The plot just forgets (or ignores) that layer of the story despite it being so prominent up until now.

And ignoring the class discussion does a disservice to every single character because they were initially built on it. You can see it in how they lose the essence they had on s1.

I know y'all love the characters and want to empathize with all their motivations, okay? But the fundamental issue is that characters also represent things, and more so in a story as political as this one. We also have the right to point out that the show told us they represented something and then abandoned that narrative.

What do I think they could have done differently? If I tell you scene by scene we could be here for an entire year. The gist of it is: I think they should have stuck to the character themes they already had established.

Vi as someone fiercely loyal to the undercity beyond her relationship with Powder/Jinx, and being "cursed" by the role of the older sister. Jayce as someone with good intentions but who is ultimately limited by his blind idealism. Mel as a cunning politician who thinks she is on the right path because she isn't violent like her mother, not realizing she is still perpetuating it. Caitlyn as someone kind and compassionate who realizes the institutions she believed in are fundamentally flawed, and because of the way they are built will never be on the side of kindness. Etc, etc.

None of that gets any meaningful resolution.

I am glad if you liked it, or got something from it, you are entitled to your opinion.

I wanted to say this because I was angry, and still am. Because there was so much incredible potential, and honestly, to me, it feels like the writers chickened out on actually saying something in the end.

That's all I have to say about that.

[thelostconsultant]

A new player

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Now that he secured the title, you feel like the flight leaving Vegas might be your best chance at telling Max a little secret.

note: Just a short thing. Inspired by that recent 911 scene.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. Now that we have Donatello, Sassy and I are outnumbered by you boys,” you note.

For the first time since you took off, Max puts down the can of Red Bull he’s been holding onto and gives you a curious look. He’s still hungover, so it takes him a minute to register what you’re referring to. “You want another cat?”

Shaking your head with a sigh, you flash a smile at him. “I wasn’t thinking about a cat, actually.” 

You can spot the confusion in his blue eyes as he’s trying to figure out what you mean, but you give him time, hoping he would figure it out on his own. Minutes pass, yet he doesn’t seem to get closer to the answer. “A dog? You want one like Leo, don’t you?” He’s laughing, and you join in while you roll your eyes at him. And then the laughter dies and his face turns serious all of a sudden. “Oh. You mean, you want a child?” You nod, the smile on your lips tighter than you wish it was. “Well… I… I mean… that would be great.”

“Are you sure?” you ask just to double check. 

With a smile, Max reaches out for your hand. “Yes. I’m sure. And you’re already pregnant, aren’t you?” he asks, his eyes shining from the sudden wave of excitement. When you nod once again, he suddenly moves to hug you, then leans back just enough to kiss you. “And I thought last night will be the best for a while,” he mumbles against your lips. “And what if it will be a boy? Then you’ll still be outnumbered. You wanna try again and again until–”

You playfully hit his arm and push him back into his seat. “I asked my doc to do a test to see if there are any genetic issues, and it also happened to tell us the baby’s gender. It’s a girl.”

For long seconds he’s only sitting there, his eyes watching you intently, and for a moment you can’t decide if he’s happy or not. You know he’s happy about the child, but what if he would prefer a boy? You’re suddenly feeling anxious, and he can probably see it on your face, because not three seconds after you tear your gaze away from him, he returns to kiss you again. “I’m happy either way. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, I’ll be the best father I can be, okay?” he asks with a warm smile. 

After a gulp, you nod. You’ve been hiding this from him for a week or so, but maybe it was worth the wait. Now that he won the title, his focus can shift a little.

[hoshifighting]

the sex ''ick's'' seventeen would give

WARNINGS: it's just for fun, and it doesn't match what the members do out there—so if you don't like, dont read.

seungcheol: his damn ass clapping louder than anything else in the room. like, the rhythm is giving standing ovation, and he’s completely unaware. if you dare mention it, he’ll pretend he didn’t hear.

jeonghan: he’d spend the whole day teasing you, promising he’s gonna ruin you later, only to nut in two minutes flat or tap out ‘cause his arms are tired “ugh, it’s so hot in here,” or “my legs are cramping.”

joshua: crying after nutting. he’s suddenly sniffling, you even got startled on the first time, his body getting REALLY sensitve.

junhui: he’ll mirror your moans, badly. you moan? he mimics it, but it sounds like a parody. like, he thinks he’s harmonizing, but it’s straight-up cringe. you try to ignore it, but he just keeps going.

hoshi: fucking u fully naked, except for his damn stoompas (those ugly-ass luxury brand chunky shoes). “they give me grip,” he’d say, like he’s at a crossfit competition, not blowing your back out. the sight of those big-ass sneakers ruins the vibe every time. (illustrative photos)

wonwoo: absolutely no facial expressions. man could be balls deep in you, and his face is blank, like he’s doing math in his head. but in fact, he's just daydreaming.

woozi: soundtrack enthusiast. he’d insist on playing a playlist he made just for you, but it’s all anime OSTs. like, nothing kills the vibe faster than hearing some intense battle music while he’s thrusting.

minghao: if you’re on top, he’d start giving unsolicited feedback. “tilt your hips a little more—yeah, like that. now, slower.” thinks he’s teaching a masterclass while you’re just trying to survive on his cock.

mingyu: checking himself out mid-thrust. fixing his hair in the mirror. if you call him out with a “are you fucking me or yourself?” he’d blush “n-no, I’m focusing on you!”

seokmin: laughs during the dirtiest parts, like a full belly laugh because he’s nervous or thinks something’s funny. he just goes, “HAHAHA—ah! sorry, I don’t know why I did that.” it’s cute tho...

seungkwan: every little thing is exaggerated—he’s gasping like he’s in a soap opera, grabbing his chest like he’s about to faint. you move slightly? “oh my god, I’m gonna DIE babe!”

vernon: won’t take off his adidas tracksuit. every damn time, it’s on—jacket unzipped, pants pushed down, and he’s acting like this is perfectly normal. while you're getting dizzy almost, from the adidas long lines, and from seeing this tracksuit for the zillionth time this month. [im feeling it too personally bc my dad uses tracksuit's often 😭]

chan: overexplaining everything he’s doing. like, “okay, so now I’m gonna flip you over, and then I’ll go deeper, and—”

[luvyeni]

( drabble ) intoxicated ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 방찬 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ chan comes home drunk with only one thing on his mindヾ

boyfriend!chan・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ sex under the influence, unprotected sex, breeding kink, pregnancy talk wc ・ ‎0.8k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. can you make one of Bangchan? please, he is drunk and horny after a party and he is obsessed with getting her pregnant ?

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i loved writing this idk why i hope you like it <3

looking at the clock it was way past midnight when you heard the door open. “baby!” you heard your boyfriends slurred voice. “baby where are you!” you shook your head — shrieking when he came bursting through the door. “baby!” he yelled out. “hi baby!” you laughed at how drunk he was. “hi chan.”

“hi baby.” he smiled, face flushed as he stumbled over his own feet. “not that drunk i swear.” he said, but his actions said otherwise. “i missed you so much.” he kicked his shoes off; unbuckling his pants. “wished you would’ve came out tonight.” taking his shirt off, tossing it. “it was fun.” he clumsily climbed into bed, falling flat on top of you. “bang christopher chan!” you yelled, slapping his bare back. “get off you are heavy.”

“why.” he whined , wrapping his arms around you. “why are you being so mean?” his face pressed against your stomach. “i love you so much and you’re being so mean.” his eyes closed, you shook your head, thinking he was going to fall asleep. “chan let’s lay down now.” you tapped his cheek. “come on baby.”

it was silent; you thought he had actually fallen asleep — that was until you felt his hands lifting up your shirt. “channie what are you doing?” he hummed. “just wanna feel my girl.” he rubbed all along your waist. “you smell nice.” you chuckled. “it’s your body wash.” you ran your fingers through his hair. “i know, but im talking about your natural scent, smell so sweet.” he kissed your bare stomach. “ch-chan.” you warned.

“what?” he said softly, slurring his words. “let’s lay down.” you said, trying to get him to sleep, even though he was slowly turning you on. “o-okay.” he said, before sitting up, quickly pulling you down, your head hitting the pillow. “let’s lay down.” he kissed your neck. “ch-chan you’re intoxicated, we’re not having sex tonight.” he whined against your ear. “you’re not taking advantage of me , i know you feel how much i want you right now.” he took your hand, running it down his abs, down past his waist. “see.” he groaned, placing it on his cock.

“ye-yeah but you’re still not in your right mind.” you didn’t want to egg him on, but he wasn’t having it. “im well in my right mind to know how much i want to put a baby right here.” he pointed to your stomach. “wanna fuck you so full that it has no choice but to stick.” the air was too thick, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. “let me finally put a baby in you.” his hand working into your panties. “chris.” you moaned. “see you’re so wet, you want this, you want to be fucked full of my babies.” he groaned. “let me do that.” his fingers slipped into your dripping cunt. “gonna get you pregnant tonight.”

chan was insatiable when he was sober, but it was nothing compared to when he was drunk. you were on your 4th orgasm, chan on his second; the clock beside you was almost at 2:30 am, but he didn’t plan on stopping — determined to have you swollen with his kid by the end of the night. “fu-fuck baby.” he groaned, his hips snapping against yours. “fuck i love this sweet pussy so much.” he groaned, his face flushed. “chan.” you moaned out. “so fucking tight , taking my fat cock like the good girl you are.”

he was pinning you to the bed as he plowed into you. the squelching noises from your previous orgasms filling up the room. “fuck you hear that baby -fuck- you pretty pussy is talking to me.” he huffed. “she wants to be bred so bad , she crying for my cock.” his necklace dangling in front of you. “you wanna cum for me?” you nodded dumbly, you were now intoxicated but not like alcohol, but his cock, you sobbed out. “so bad.”

“cum for me.” he whispered in your ear. “fuck chan!” you screamed out, you sweet juices spraying all over his abdomen. “ye-yes fuck baby.” he groaned. “fuck cum all over me.” he continued you to fuck you. “that’s it -fuck- fuck me im gonna cum again.” he moaned, cock twitching as his filled you up for the third time that night. “fuck im gonna breed you , fill you with my seed, give you a pretty baby.” he groaned. “fuck i love you so much.”

feeling his warm cum pouring inside you, he sighed falling against you, your bodies sticking together. “chan , channie get up we have to clean ourselves.” you could feel his heart beating as he softly snored on top of you. you ran your fingers through his sweaty wet hair. “told you , you were tired.” you kissed the top of his head. “you big goof, you know you can’t hold your alcohol.” he wrapped his arms around you , holding you close. “sleep now.” you chuckled. “fine.” you said, finally drifting off to sleep.

almost a week later the two of you were standing over the sink in your bathroom , a positive pregnancy test sitting right in front of you.

©️LUVYENI

[classyrbf]

PLEASE MAKE A INO SMUT IM BEGGING AND PLEADING 😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

MUNCH! — INO TAKUMA

ino is the biggest munch known to man. That boy loves eating pussy. He lives and breathes pussy. One taste of your cunt and his mind is spiraling. He’ll eat pussy anywhere if he could. No lie. He’s one to push your legs all the way up to your chest, practically making out with your cunt, moaning and groaning af your taste because he loves it so bad. And it’s not just about eating pussy either, but it’s also about the way you react. He loves when you start breathing heavily, whimpering his name, lips quivering with each cry as your body shakes from an orgasm. And no, he doesn’t stop after you cum because he’s doing this for his pleasure too. He’s licking up every last drop, savoring it on his tongue. You’re pulling at his hair, trying to move his mouth so it wouldn’t feel as good, but nothing works. He’s slurps and sucks on your clit, watching the way your head falls back onto the pillows when he slips a finger inside and starts massaging your g-spot. “Come on, baby, just one more orgasm for me. Pretty please?” He begs with glossy eyes, so drunk on your taste, your juices coating his pink lips. And who are you to deny him what he loves so much? Because you love it too. He loves to eat it from the back as well, using his tongue to run up and down your slit and through your sloppy folds. “You taste so good, I’ll never get tired of eating this pussy,” he mumbles, diving right back in between your legs. Ino is big on giving in the bedroom that sometimes he doesn’t even care about receiving. Nothing sexual will be happening but all that’s on his mind is eating your pussy and then moving onto the next task of the day. “Pretty, can I eat you out really quick before we leave?” He kisses your neck, sliding his hands up your dress and next thing you know he has you on the couch with your legs in the air, cumming on his tongue for second time in a span of only 6 minutes because he’s just that damn good.

[vanillamatt]

vanillamatt .. talkingstage!chris & reader

matt trying to convince chris to get out of the talking stage - based on their recent ‘suspect’ tiktok

you’ve been in the “talking stage” with chris for what feels like forever. casual texts, hanging out here and there, but nothing more serious. sometimes you catch him looking at you a little too long, or he gets all soft when you laugh, but when it comes to making things official, he never quite takes that step. it’s like he’s stuck in neutral, and you’re starting to wonder if you’re the only one actually waiting for more.

matt notices, of course. he always does. one night, after chris had been texting you for what felt like hours, matt had had enough. he plops down next to chris on the couch, arms crossed, eyeing his brother with a look that says he knows exactly what’s going on.

“you still doing this, huh?” matt says, his voice light but there’s an edge to it.

“doing what?” chris replies, not even looking up from his phone as his thumb swipes over the screen.

“playing it safe. with y/n.” matt leans forward, poking chris in the side. “dude this whole ‘talking stage’ is getting old.”

chris shifts uncomfortably, setting his phone down like he wasn’t just glued to it. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“come on,” matt says, rolling his eyes. “you like her. i see how you act when her name pops up on your phone. you’re basically glued to your texts with her, and whenever shes around, you act all weird, like you’re trying to hide it, but it’s obvious, man.”

chris looks at him, slightly defensive but also a little lost. “it’s just… i don’t know. i don’t wanna rush things, you know?”

matt shakes his head, leaning back. “you’ve been not rushing for months now. she’s probably waiting for you to do something, but you’re just sitting there like a bitch, acting like everything’s fine. if you don’t make a move, you’re gonna lose your shot.”

chris looks conflicted, glancing at his phone again. he’s silent for a moment, clearly thinking about what matt said, but there’s still that hesitation in his eyes. matt sighs.

“you’ve got to stop being scared, man. if you keep playing it safe, you’re never gonna get anywhere. either you take the risk and find out, or you keep pretending like you’re not into her.”

there’s a long pause, the tension between them thick, before chris finally groans, running a hand through his hair. “you really think i should just… text her? tell her how i feel?”

matt smirks, leaning back against the couch. “hell yeah. if you don’t, i’m gonna do it for you.”

“alright, alright,” chris mutters, picking up his phone. “but you better not say anything to her.”

“promise,” matt says, grinning. “just make sure you don’t screw it up.”

chris lets out a small laugh and starts typing, his fingers moving slow at first, then faster, as if he’s convincing himself more than anyone else. matt watches, arms folded, a look of satisfaction on his face.

it’s about time.

a/n - i feel this is something that would happen

[justluxy]

Perverted Best Friend

Original Story so it’s probably shit

Basically this idea but expanded, Best Friend

Best Friend x Bottom Male Reader

TW: Gay Smut, Breeding kink, Fainting, (Also english is my second language so this story is probably horrible lmao)

Word Count: 2k

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡

The relationship between you and your best friend, Noah, was always weird. Since middle school students always used to tell you that he liked you. But you ignored them and continued with your life, not knowing that the rumors were true. Now both of you are at college and the rumors that he likes you are getting stronger and stronger. You always caught him looking at your ass when you wore shorts or when you changed in the locker rooms. He even touched your ass by “accident” multiple times, and as the gullible person you are, you always believed it was an accident. You thought that was normal because friends do that right?

Noah always thought about you… in a wild way. Always dreaming of fucking you. Always dreaming of you bouncing on his cock with you drooling and with an expression that only showed pure lust and pleasure. He always jerked off to your pictures and even managed to steal a piece of your underwear and came on them, smirking when you put them in knowing that has his cum in it. He only wanted to hear your pretty moans while he fucked you as hard as he could and fill you up with him seed. Also, he is very jealous, you are a very extroverted person so you have many friends, including guys. Noah always gets super jealous when you talk to them. He just wants to pick you and fuck you in front of your friends to show them who you belong to.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡

“Perfect! Let’s have a sleepover in my house!” You said excitedly, you were going to have a sleepover with your best friend at your house where you and Noah will eat snacks and watch movies all night love… poor you, you didn’t know the things that were going to happen that night.

“Perfect! See you there in five minutes” Noah talked on the phone. He was very excited to see you and already had a plan to have you for himself. He smirked noticing that he already had a boner, maybe masturbating before going to your house wasn’t a bad idea.

…

“Hey Noah! Good to see you!” You said excitedly opening the door for him. His cologne smelled amazing to you, he always smelled really good. Especially when he came from the gym.

“Good to see you too,” Noah said, smiling with an innocent smile, a smile that hid a lot of perverted thoughts about you. He entered your house but before he did, he looked at your outfit and body. You were wearing just an oversized hoodie with small shorts… gosh he loved it.

After greeting him you and Noah went to the living room where you turned the movie on and prepared popcorn with sodas for the both of you. Now you were both sitting on the couch eating popcorn while watching the movie. You felt sleepy so you decided to rest your head on Noah’s shoulder. He took advantage of the situation to pull you closer by your waist.

You started to fall asleep and Noah looked at you. You look so beautiful, he just couldn’t resist but to start to kiss your neck. You started moaning in your sleep feeling his kisses. He started leaving hickeys in your neck, many of them just to show everyone in the world that you belonged to him. While doing that, his hand traveled under your hoodie and shirt. He started feeling your smooth chest and after a few seconds he started pinching your nipples. You started to wake up, opening your eyes slowly just to find Noah kissing your neck while playing with your nipples as you moaned louder.

“W-What are you doing N-Noah?” You managed to ask while still moaning. He just kissed the tip of your nose and said, “Just playing around… do you like it?” He said while rubbing his fingers on your nipples.

“I c-can’t deny it… i-it feels pretty nice to be honest…” You managed to say with a blush on your face. He smirked and continued to play with them while with his other hand rubbed your thighs getting closer and closer to your cock. He started rubbing his hand on your cock through your shorts that only made you moan more.

He started to pull your shorts down slightly and moved from your neck to your legs while you only moaned. He started to kiss your cock through your boxers, teasing you while he grabbed your ass. Gosh he loved your ass, so soft,... so smooth… so round… that was his favorite part of your body.

“God… I love your body…” He said while he kissed you on your lips. The kiss was hot and lustful but it was a bit romantic. You blushed, even though he was basically jerking you off, he could still be romantic, kissing you softly while caressing your waist softly.

Then he pulled your shorts and underwear down revealing your hard cock which compared to his, was tiny. He wrapped his hand around the base of your cock, giving it a few slow strokes teasing you. Then he leaned down and took the tip of your cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive head before taking more of your cock into his mouth. Then he stopped and you gave him a disappointed look. He smirked and took your hoodie off and after he took off all of his clothes and to your surprise… His cock was huge! It was nine inches, you have never seen a cock that big before!

“C’mom baby… come suck this cock and enjoy it” He said with a smirk and you obeyed, not knowing why. You got between his legs and wrapped his cock in your hand while he took a bunch of your hair. He gripped your hair tightly as you started to slowly lick and kiss the head of his cock, his hips bucking up slightly at the sensation. He bit back a moan, trying to hold back his eagerness as he looked down at you.

“Gosh I love your such pretty mouth…” He let out a soft moan as you took the head of his cock into your mouth, his grip on your hair tightening even more as he tried to contain himself. He couldn’t help but moan and groan as you started to bob your head up and down his length.

His hips bucked up involuntary, his control slipping as he began to thrust his hips up into your mouth. He let out a series of loud, desperate moans, his body teasing as he got closer and closer to the edge. Noah let out a loud moan as he came, his body arching as he released into your mouth. His grip on your hair was almost painful as he held you in place, riding out his orgasm as he filled your mouth with his seed.

“Good boy” He said smirking as he positioned you on all fours, admiring the view of your ass presented to him. He couldn’t help but reach out and give one of your cheeks a firm squeeze, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. You moaned, feeling his hands. He leaned forward and bit on your shoulder, his teeth leaving a mark on your skin as he trailed kisses down your spine. He then moved his hands to grip your hips, holding you in place as he positioned himself behind you. He started slowly pushing into you, his large cock stretching you open as he let out a moan.

“F-Fuck… s-so big agh…” You said when finally his large cock was inside of you. Noah paused for a moment giving you time to adjust to his size, before he started to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts, his grip on your hips tight as he set a steady pace. “F-Fuck… you’re so tight baby fuck… I love this ass” He said as he continued his slow thrusts.

He gradually increased the pace of his thrusts, his hips snapping against yours with great force. His fingers dug deeper into your hips, sure to leave bruises as he claimed you as his own. “F-Fuck… agh” You moaned feeling that he smacked your ass, the sound of his hand echoing through the room. He gripped your hair with his other hand, pulling your head back as he continued to pound into you. He smirked as he saw how your body reacted to the spank. He gave your ass another smack, this time harder than before, as he leaned forward to speak to you in your ear, “You like this don’t you? You like your ass being spanked little slut” He said as he continued to thrust into you.

Noah continued to pound into you mercilessly, his grip on your hair keeping your head back and exposing your neck to him. He took advantage of your exposed skin, leading down to bite and suck at your neck, leaving marks all over showing who you belonged to. He felt himself getting closer and closer to coming, his thrusts became more erratic and desperate as he neared his release. He let out a string of moans and curses, his breath hot against your ear as he continued to mark your neck. “F-Fuck I’m close… I-I’m gonna fill you up baby, are you ready?” You could only let moans and moans so you just nodded at his words.

He slammed into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as he reached his peak. He let out a loud, guttural moan as he came, his body shuddering with pleasure as he filled you up with his hot seed. At the same time you let out a loud moan that sounded like a porn star’s moan, finally reaching your orgasm as you felt his hot cum inside of you. “T-That was amazing… I have always dreamed of having you like this all to myself…” You chuckled, “So all the rumors that you liked me since middle school were true?” You asked curiously, “Of course haha… how could I resist your charm and this beautiful ass?” He said spanking your ass playfully.

“Mmm.. I think I want more… “ He said, hiding his face on your neck, giving you soft kisses, “mmm.. Why not?” You said smirking, eagerly for feeling his hot cum inside of you again.

He gently flipped you over so that you were laying on your back. He leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, hungry kiss, his tongue dominating yours as he claimed your mouth. His hands roamed over your body, his touch gentle as his hands reached your ass, giving it a small squeeze while with his finger played with your sensitive hole.

Both of you continued fucking until you fainted out of exhaustion, he smiled and stopped thrusting into you as he kissed your chest slowly as he pulled out of you and went to the bathroom to get towels and warm water to clean your body. After he finished he hugged you and fall asleep next to you and he smiled softly, finally his dream came true, he was hugging his crush and had finally fucked him, he was the happiest man alive. 

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡

You woke up and saw him sleeping next to you, you smiled seeing his cute expression while he slept. Then you noticed that your body was cleaned and you felt happy that at least he cleaned you. You hugged him. After a few minutes he opened his eyes slowly looking at you, “Morning baby how did you sleep?” He said with a caring tone, “Fine… that was the best orgasm I had in years”, You said chuckling while he smirked, “Wanna do it again?” He said while his hands squeezed your ass, “Happy too…”

Since it was Saturday, the day was long for both of you. You and him fucked the whole day, finally your best friend’s dream came true, and you were more than happy to be with him and to feel his cum inside of your ass over and over again.

[razrbladekiss]

CRAVE | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: there’s only one thing that joel craves, and it isn’t the mental fucking torture of an overly stubborn twenty-something teasing him ‘til he’s blue in the face. and balls.

PAIRING: dbf!joel miller x afab!reader. legal unspecified age gap.

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT. alcohol consumption. pervy old man joel. reader’s dad (i’ve named him sorrrry) is there before joel gets pervy. some religious themes and also descriptions of religion in a negative light (this is MY experience with christianity, if you do not agree then please don’t read), no explicit smut but descriptions of what joel wants to do to youuuu so: mentions of piv, cock-riding, oral f!receiving, choking if you squint, dirty talk asf, joel being cocky which leads to his cock being sad and alone. reader is cunty. not proof-read ‘cus, once again, i’m a lazy bitch and i don’t have time for that. enjoy. 🫶🏻

An end to craving is an end to suffering.

Today’s last stream of sunlight fulgurates through the branches of your father’s prized Texas Ash, hitting perfectly the dime-sized crucifix situated comfortably between two pert tits sheathed in sheer black cotton.

Joel tries not to stare, but it’s impossible. He’s been watching you all fucking night. Every time you get up, he’s been glued to your ass. Whenever you lean over, Joel can’t seem to pry his eyes away from your cleavage. The more he’s been drinking, the more brazen he’s been with his stolen glances.

When your father rambles about some work-related spiel—and you’re sitting so innocently across the way—he can’t help affixing his eyes to the swell of your breasts. Wondering what it’d be like to touch, and grope, and suck on them.

Your mother was right about him. For all of the years that she knew Joel while your parents were together, she’d always say that he was trouble. A good-for-nothing, splenetic, perverted old-man who was but a bad influence. And you never noticed, never cared. You always thought that he was a great friend, and a stand-up guy.

Until today. Until you saw him scrutinizing your form—in front of your dad—you had a lot more respect for Joel. But now you realize that your mother was right. He is a perv. But—fuck—do you love that.

You’re not sure what you enjoy more—disrespecting your insane Catholic mother, or knowing that Joel is undressing you with his eyes—but you can’t help yourself feeding into his fantasy.

“Daddy?” Your father hums, not entirely bothered by the fact that you’ve just interrupted his conversation. He smiles. “Do you want another beer?”

“Please, hon.” He hands you his empty bottle, mumbling something about how he was going to get himself one and that you don’t need to. But you insist.

The blanket over your thighs is being discarded, hiking your dress up with it. Joel gets a glimpse of your lace panties that he likes to imagine you wore just for him, and shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Bare, supple skin is on display as you get up from the deck chair. You turn to him with a prurient twinkle in your eye, and ask if he wants a drink too. “Yeah, another won’t hurt. I’m already pretty—“ he hiccups, “pretty far gone, anyway.”

Dad laughs while you saunter to the cooler and make a big show of bending over, completely unaware of the way Joel is trying to conjure up a plan to get you alone tonight. But then…

“Same ‘ere, bud.” He laughs before he’s nodding toward Joel. “Stay the night, if ‘ya wanna. I mean, you’re in no fit state to drive—none of us are—and I got a spare bedroom.”

His nose scrunches up, as if to decline, before you’re turning around with two unopened beers and a small bottle of wine. Your hand wraps around the neck almost romantically, leaving very little to his imagination.

“Yeah, you might as well stay, Miller.” You put down the beers on the table, still holding firmly the Merlot. “I’m stayin’. I got nowhere to be in the mornin’, and dad bought breakfast stuff.”

Two brown eyes are latched to each of yours, and you feel beads of perspiration roll through the valley of your breasts. Despite the evening cooling down, you’re stifling beneath his unyielding gaze.

“Alright, I’ll stay.” Joel concedes. He takes his can and cracks it open, lifting it up to cheers your father. “S’long as you’re makin’ me breakfast, Gary.”

Dad salutes and you smile, sinking into the purple cushion with a satisfied hum. You ogle Joel, biting fiercely the skin of your bottom lip. And it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Joel swigs his beer—letting your dad drunkenly ramble—and doesn’t take his eyes off of you. Wondering how he’s going to make you pay for torturing him like this.

But this hadn’t been your intention when Joel showed up to watch the Cowboys v Browns game this afternoon. In fact, him staying past nine o’clock was completely unintentional and if it weren’t for your dad pumping him full of Coors and Old Milwaukee, he’d be fast asleep at this very moment.

He supposes that he doesn’t mind, being here. Especially because he’s buzzed—still able to speak and think coherently, which is surprising—and gets to spend some rare time with you. Even if it is with your dad.

You watch them converse—the way that friends do—admiring how patient Joel is with him despite him being a little bit too inebriated for his own good. He’s the kind of friend that your old man needs; understanding, forbearing. And it baffles you that they’ve not known one another for longer than seven years, but surmise that they’d definitely be best friends in every other timeline because they just work so well.

But it’s the thought of them being friends—brothers—that urges feelings of unease. Trepidation. Gary’ll have a cow if he finds out the way that his so called buddy has been making googly eyes at his little girl’s titties for the last eight hours.

Joel senses the shift in attitude—you’re not teasing him now—and turns the topic of conversation to you. Dad doesn’t mind, though. Never minds talking to—or about—his kid.

“What made you stay in with us oldies tonight, huh?”

Wine is being swiveled around the glass before you take it back in one swig. A grimace flits over your features, but they both catch it.

“Didn’t feel like hittin’ the bars.” Candidly, you say. It’s refreshing. “Can’t be dealin’ with pervy old men tryna touch me.”

Less refreshing.

Joel’s blood runs cold, and you smirk. He swallows thickly the liquid acrimony bubbling from the chasms of his throat. He wants to screw that stupid grin off of your face—stuff his cock straight between those plush lips and throat fuck you ‘til you’re crying and gasping for air.

He just nods instead of saying anything.

“I’ll kill anyone that touches you.” Dad says, not sensing Joel’s sudden frigid state. “Seriously. ‘Specially if it’s an old fuckin’ degenerate asshole—“

“Alright, Gary.” You halt the hate train, pouring the last few dregs of wine into your glass. “No need to get all protective. No old coot is comin’ anywhere near me.”

You look directly at Joel when you say; “old men can’t do what guys my age can, anyway.”

Dad grimaces. Joel scoffs. You can’t help smiling, feeling very proud of yourself.

“Y’know, you’re still my kid? And hearing this shit is nasty.” Your father tells you around a burp, and realizes that this might be the time to call it a night.

He’s never been able to handle his alcohol, especially after being married to your psychotic beer-loathing, hymn-signing, prayer-group-leading, holier-than-though moronic fucking mother.

He lets himself get too drunk too fast, now. Ever since she went back to Kansas—which was totally code for I fucked the priest and got extradited from the church—he’s really let his hair down, and you’d be lying if you said this version of your old man wasn’t the very best. Because he’s living his life the way that he wants to, now.

It’s nice.

“It might be nasty, but ‘least you don’t have to worry about me bringing home a man your age. Or even worse; older.”

Gary gets to his feet—knees clicking and cracking as he does so—and nods. “‘Spose that’s true, kid.”

Joel. Is. So. Fucking. Pissed.

As you say your goodnights—and put on a few lights so that your dad doesn’t trip over his own feet—Joel is mentally counting down the minutes until he gets you alone on this damn patio. He’s determined to make you regret the few little comments that you’ve made tonight.

“Don’t stay up too late. Y’know how cranky ‘ya get with no sleep.” Dad reminds you. “You too, Miller.”

You hum your response, lifting your empty glass and indicating that you’ll be retiring to your room soon, too.

“Night dad.”

“Night, pumpkin.” He turns to Joel. “Make sure she ain’t up too late.”

He nods and shifts his gaze to you, eyes darkening. “Yessir. I’ll put her to sleep.”

Your father grunts and slides the patio door to close. Leaving his daughter and best friend alone together might be the biggest mistake that he’s ever going to make.

Joel watches him intently behind the glass door, heeding him stumble across the tile. He might be about to rearrange your guts, but he at least wants to be courteous.

Your legs squeeze together, for the only sound you hear is the reverberation of Joel’s I’ll put her to sleep in that sexy, beer-slick tone.

He sees it.

“She makin’ ‘ya squirm?”

You blink at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your pussy.” Joel—as candid as ever—elaborates. “Is she flutterin’ ‘cus ‘a me?”

The fallout of a chemical bomb would be much more appealing than having to look Joel in the eye after such a lewd statement.

“Don’t worry if so. I have that effect on the ladies.”

“Makin’ yourself sound like a slut, Miller.” Coolly, you respond. Your hand is reaching for a can of beer, twining fingertips around the base while another pulls the tab.

Two eyes screw shut when a spritz of alcohol is flushing over your face, neck and chest. Droplets of Bud trickle between those perfect tits that Joel’s eyes have almost burned fucking holes into; forcing even the horniest man on planet earth to render himself utterly speechless.

You trail a finger through the valley of your breasts, collecting the sticky liquid before you’re putting it straight into your mouth; sucking it clean. Your eyes are locked on Joel’s.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

Slowly, he shakes his head. The sight before him is truly one to behold; his friend’s sweet daughter with her fingers between her tits out in the patio. Nobody’d ever believe him if he told them this. Joel probably wouldn’t even fucking believe himself.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t ’ya?” Is what he says in response. He’s quick witted, you’ll give him that. “My tongue stuck in your pretty little pussy—“

Heat flashes over you.

“You’re fucking vile.”

“Ain’t that the way it’s meant’a be?” He lurches forward, and your eyes travel to the small opening of his shirt’s midsection that highlights perfectly the fact that he hasn’t a base layer beneath the flannel.

You see a small patch of hair; brown, and gray and seems a little fuzzy. It’s a sudden reminder that this man is a smidge too old for you. But you can’t find it in yourself to care very much.

“Don’t think so.” Trying to out-douche him, you respond. Joel’s thick fingers are twined together, hands resting over the peaks of his knees. “Think youre meant’a have some kinda respect for me. Y’know, as my dad’s buddy, ‘n all.”

Joel snorts a laugh.

“I’d have respect for ‘ya, but the way that peachy fuckin’ ass was in the air when ‘ya bent over the cooler tells me that daddy’s ’lil girl is more of a slut than me.”

Your jaw rolls. Reaction: gauged.

He inches nearer to you; slimy grin plastered across rough, rugged features. “Only pullin’ your leg, hon. I know you’re no slut. Too much of a prissy bitch—“

“Oh, really?” Irked, you spit.

Joel nods. Pushing at your buttons has never been much of a difficult feat. It’s something that he quite enjoys, actually.

“Mhm, yeah.” The man is leaning backwards in his chair, now. Arms folded behind his head; hands pressed against his dark curls. “Gonna have to prove that you ain’t like your mama.”

Your blood boils. And then it runs cold.

“Don’t gotta prove shit to you.” You defend. Very defensively.

“No, that’s right. Don’t gotta do nothin’, kiddo.”

You see the outline of his dick as it stiffens within the confines of his dark, navy-denim jeans. He’s actually getting off on this.

“Unless you want to—“

“Nah, I’m good.” You’re leaning back, now, lifting your legs to sit criss cross applesauce. The barely-covering-your-crotch sheer fabric of your thong catches his eye; a glint of something wicked flickers through them as he clears his throat.

If you’re playing the long game, then so is he. He can out-stubborn anybody.

“So I’ve heard.” He jabs, insinuating that you’re a prude. Again. “Can prove ‘em all wrong, if ‘ya wanna.”

It’s killing him, this. It’s torture. But he’s strong. Ish.

You shake your head, reaching for your almost-empty can of beer. You’re taking another long pull, making a dramatic show of tilting your head back and puffing out your chest as you do so. His lips purse.

“I’m good.” You tell him again with a syrupy smile. “Rather we just talk. Y’know—be civilized, ‘n all.”

His arms are moving to the sides of his deck chair, now. Joel’s tongue runs along his bottom lip. He gives a quick bob of his head.

“Yeah, we can talk.” His eyes zone in on your pussy; the engorged wet patch situated on the part of fabric that kind-of clothes your cunt. His mouth waters. “But what’ll we talk about, baby girl?”

Another surge of pleasure oozes out from between your thighs, turning what was once a purple thong into a jet-black one. Joel doesn’t mind, though. The sight is sweet; it’s prurient, in some sick way.

“Hm.” You pretend to think, all the while spreading your legs a little bit more. He sees perfectly the outline of your folds as fabric hugs and highlights the inner workings of your beautiful anatomy. “Why don’t we start with what you’re thinkin’ about, Mr. Miller?”

A weakness of his, that is. You referring to him as Mr. Miller has always gotten him hot. It’s innocent, almost. It’s like that’d been engrained into your brain by the god-fearing fruit-loop that brought you up, and you can’t quit saying it in these situations.

“Oh, doll. Not sure you’ll wanna hear what I’m thinkin’ of.” His tone is rough, now. Like 180 grit sandpaper against the wooden walls inside of your fucking brain. You hum.

Mentally, Joel’s cock is spearing open the tight hole between your legs; making you scream his name. He’s thrusting his prick up into your cervix while you ride him like he’s the last cowboy on earth, desperate to feel a kind of pleasure that no man your age could ever bestow upon you.

In his head, he’s picturing your crucifix dangling in his face while you’re pleasuring yourself on his length; glistening with sweat, and cum, and Sierra Nevada. Howling at his girth, speechless at the size of him.

He wants nothing more than to wrap a hand around the base of your throat and fuck you into next week; feeling damp walls contract and seize around his cock—

“No.” You snap him back to reality; halting his train of thought. “No, you can tell me. I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

Oh, I’m fuckin’ sure she can.

“Fine.” He clears his throat. “Just thinkin’ of stufin’ that warm ‘lil cunt with my big ‘ol cock, ‘s’all.”

“Oh, is that all?” Your tone is teasing.

Joel does not like to be teased.

“If you’d shut your fuckin’ mouth, I’d be able to finish.”

In a moment of pure, unapologetic submission, you nod. The skin of your bottom lip is getting fucking gnawed at by your teeth in an attempt to conceal a moan.

It works. Kind of.

“What was I sayin’…” He strives to recall his last few words; and then he remembers. “Oh, yeah. Stretchin’ out that cute pussy ‘a yours.”

That cute pussy ‘a yours, is twitching. Fuck that, it’s pulsating.

“And you’re so sure of that? You being able to stretch me out, I mean.”

“Dead sure, angel face.” He quips. “I know for a damn fact that you’d be havin’ trouble takin’ my fat cock all in one go; be cryin’ for everyone to hear.”

Through long, thick lashes, you stare at him.

“You’d be seein’ stars; and not just the ones above us right now.”

You look up to the sky and hope to alleviate some of the mental pain being bestowed upon you right now. Which is entirely your own doing, of course.

Joel shifts in his seat so that he’s a little bit more sunken, able to heed clearly the sickly sweetness blanketing the chair you’re on.

“I’ll eat your pussy, too.”

Your attention is snapped back down to Joel, now. Your brows raise.

“Suck your soul right out from between your legs.”

“Oh, Joel.” You moan, a little. He lets his eyes shut for a brief moment, only to open them again to find you taking off your panties.

It’s like Christmas fucking day, this.

“I’d love for you to take me right here; fill me up on one ‘a the sunloungers.” You’re getting off your chair, and Joel’s heart is starting to pound within the chasms of his chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You’re walking toward him; thong in hand. Fingers wreathed through soaked purple cotton.

“Can’t think of anything that’ll bring me more pleasure than you fuckin’ me ‘til I’m crying. Or gasping for air.”

“You ‘n me both, beautiful.”

You smile. You give Joel your underwear, before you’re running your fingers through his hair and he’s letting a hand glide up the meat of your thigh and beneath your skirt.

“Just a shame, ain’t it.”

“What’s a shame, sugar?”

The feeling of his fingertips—calloused and covered in rough skin—is almost orgasmic. But you’re stronger than what he is. So you pull yourself away from his hold, and begin to feel an unwavering sense of need. You shirk it, though.

You’re leaning into him now, breasts pressed against his shoulder, lips touching the shell of his ear. Goosebumps prickle over his neck and you assume that they’re making their way down south, too.

“Huh?” He says to get your attention, for you still haven’t answered. “What’s a shame?”

Fingertips trace over broad shoulders enveloped in soft, warm flannel. You’re leaning closer; hot breath on his skin. Your lips part to whisper:

“If daddy ever found out about this, he’d kill ‘ya.”

“Baby—“

You’re taking the panties from his hand, and tucking them into the breast pocket of his shirt. Fighting a blush—feeling very proud of yourself—your face remains straight.

You tap at his chest and walk away, but not before throwing a “night, Miller” over your shoulder.

Joel looks down at the ground, presently wallowing in some sort of self-pity. But then remembers the visible effect that his words had—and the way he looked at—you, and he can’t fight the stupid fucking grin pushing its way onto his face.

He might’ve just experienced blue-balls at his big age, but to see you submit to his gaze was absolutely worth it.

He just hopes you’ll never tell a soul about his dirty-talk. He has a reputation to uphold, these days.

[mwuaferrari]

I REALLY WANT TO KISS YOU - LANDO NORRIS

The paddock was nearly empty. Only faint lights illuminated a few tents, and a handful of mechanics were packing up the last tools of the night. Just two races left, and the season would be over. Although the championship hadn’t gone Lando’s way, the atmosphere wasn’t melancholy—it felt nostalgic. A blend of exhaustion, pride, and the inevitable “what ifs.”

You leaned against a metal railing, watching as Lando, a few meters away, chatted distractedly with one of his engineers. He was smiling, but you could sense there was something deeper beneath the surface, something he was working through quietly. When he finished the conversation, his eyes searched for you in the shadows. The moment he spotted you, he walked over with a half-smile that sent your heart racing.

Lando stopped a few steps away, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket and studying you intently.

“What is it?” you asked, your voice light but tinged with nervousness.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone playful, that familiar teasing lilt he used to deflect anything serious.

“I wanted to check on you, to make sure you were okay,” you admitted, glancing at him sideways.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t have to. I’m fine, really.”

“I know,” you said, taking a breath as you carefully chose your words. “But… Lando, you did something incredible this year, you know that? Everyone expected big things from the others, but you—you surprised everyone. You fought until the very end, and that’s what matters.”

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to gauge whether you really meant it. When he found no hesitation in your expression, he sighed softly and smiled—this time, with a vulnerability he rarely showed.

“Thank you. Really. I think I needed that.”

You looked at him, and despite his words, something in his demeanor made you want to comfort him. Without thinking too much, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him.

Lando stiffened for a moment, surprised, but then let out a small laugh as he hugged you back, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder.

“This helps more than words,” he murmured against your hair.

When you finally pulled away, he didn’t move far. His gaze lingered on yours, and something in his eyes had shifted—something warm that made your cheeks heat up.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, letting out a nervous laugh.

Lando blinked, then leaned against the railing beside you, a genuine, low laugh escaping his lips.

“I was just thinking about something really stupid.”

“What?” you pressed, curiosity evident in your voice.

He looked at you, biting his bottom lip as if debating whether to say it. Finally, with a shrug and a soft chuckle, he confessed, “I was thinking that I really want to kiss you right now.”

Your eyes widened as your heart sped up, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“And that seems stupid to you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady even as your pulse thundered in your ears.

“A little,” he admitted, “but it’s also true.”

The air between you seemed to grow heavier, charged with a new kind of energy. You stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or just teasing.

“So, what’s stopping you?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest.

Lando’s expression softened, his usual playful demeanor melting into something more serious as he leaned closer.

“Nothing, I guess,” he murmured.

And before you could say another word, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment, ensuring this was exactly what he wanted. When he felt you respond, his grip on your waist tightened slightly, the kiss deepening into something that felt like it had been building for a long time.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were slightly out of breath, wearing matching smiles that neither could suppress.

“Well,” he said, his voice soft and tinged with humor, “that felt a lot less stupid than I thought it would.”

You laughed, giving him a playful shove. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he replied, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “But I’m also the guy who just kissed you, so I must be doing something right.”

[vampiresbloodx]

She tastes so sweet.

Pitfighter!vi going down on you for the first time and becoming addicted.

warnings: smut 18+ ONLY, vaginal fingering, semi public sex, bathroom sex, hook ups, clubs, alcohol, kissing, marking, service top!vi, reader has no confirmed gender but they're wearing a dress in this for the scenario reasons, vi is quiet a fuckboy, oral sex (reader receiving)

Vi has always had her fair sure of fun over the years, she wasn't new to this, after she wins a match she just really wants to fuck someone.

She goes to a club where she'll know exactly who to find, she's scanning the room where her eyes land on you, who happen to be dancing with their friends, enjoying yourself as you look so pretty.

Vi smirks.

That's the one.

You just looked so nice in that dress you were wearing, she just wanted to rip it off and see whats underneath, your smile is enough to make anyone swoon, she wonders if you even know those that eye you in the dark from afar when you aren't watching.

The loud music blasts in her ears as she takes a sip of her beer, everything was loud, but she liked it, she needed it.

She felt good and she wanted to make someone else feel good.

It's not the first time she's seen you around, she's spotted you before, she's just been watching you, keeping her eye on you, making sure you're okay, while your friends get shit faced drunk, you don't seem like the type to get drunk easily, maybe a little tipsy, but that happens with everyone after a few cups.

When she sees your friend whisper something in your ear she knew she was going to leave you alone, she didn't like that, not when she spotted a guy checking you out, was she doing the same thing? Yes, but that guy had red flags all over him, he was bad news.

Vi didn't trust him.

As soon as you were left alone, seemingly in your own world, enjoying the music, the guy makes his way to you, taking advantage of it. Immediately, vi places her drink back down as she walks through the crowd of drunk people.

Before the guy could even say anything to you, she grabbed a drink already and purposely bumped into him, spilling it all over him, he swore under his breath.

"damn, you should probably go clean that up" Vi said, staring him down, he should know vi wasn't playing around with you and he scoffed, cursing more as he stormed off.

Then there was you, still oblivious to the whole thing.

She taps you on the shoulder, causing you to jump slightly as you turned around, probably expecting your friend.

"hi?" You slurred, she smiled, thinking it was cute. "Have you seen Hannah? Is she back yet?" You ask.

Vi shakes her head, "sorry, dunno Hannah is."

"fuckin' bitch probably left me with some dick" you groaned in annoyance, she couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"I could accompany you, if you want", vi offered, she wanted to be smooth about this, not being to obvious that she wanted to get in your pants, but the way you raised your eyebrows at her and checked her out, your eyes roaming her entire body which made her heart flutter, she knew what you wanted.

Before she knows it, she's pushing you against the wall of the bathroom that smells like shit but she couldn't care less, all she focused on was the taste of your lips and how soft they felt against hers. She heard you chuckle, as she pushed your dress up, you held it up for her as she kissed her way down, leaving her marks, enjoying the way you squirmed for her and moaned, fuck, she needed you.

She places her fingers inside your panties to tease you, she moans at how wet you already were, you let out a moan as she dipped her finger easily inside your wet folds, you felt so good, she pumped her finger in and out of you slowly at first, you were a whining mess, your hands gripping her shoulders.

She watched you in awe, as she felt you clench around her, it was making her dizzy, she's never fucked someone this wet before, well, not in a long time.

She pulls her fingers out hearing you whine, she doesn't say anything but grins, bending down on her knees as she kisses down your stomach, just above your waist, you body was begging for it and so was you, she loved the way noises you made, it drove her insane.

Once she pulled off your underwear fully, it was soaked, she moaned at the sight of your pussy, how pretty it looked, how much it needed her. Her own core throbbed, as she leaned in, pressing a kiss to it as she licks up your slit, hearing you moan louder and grip her hair harder, she smirks.

Vi dips her tongue in between your folds, twirling it around and making you squeal and squirm, she was showing just how fucking good she was with her mouth and she wanted to make you come on her tongue. She knew you were close with how she purposely didn't let you come before on her fingers, she wanted to taste you instead, and my god, you taste wonderful.

She couldn't get enough.

She keeps going, her hands on your thighs to hold them up as she watches you, your head against the wall, your eyes closed, getting lost in the feeling as she can't help but feel cocky about it.

Her tongue goes to tease circles at your clit, you whined, pushing your face into her, you looked so pretty like this, looking like a complete mess, moaning and whining for her while she eats you out.

She knows how much you like it too.

Your grip gets tighter as she knows you're close, she just wanted to relish in this feeling, she finally got you where she always wanted. She couldn't help but feel more smug, knowing how easy she can make you cum, make you a crying mess for her, she's obsessed, really. She wants more. She pushes her tongue into you, hearing you gasp as she fucks you with her tongue, moaning at the taste, you whimper above her, riding her face as she's in heaven.

She watches you come with a cry of her name, not even caring how loud you are in the moment, she loves it, she loves every bit of it, she leans away, licking her lips as you stared at her in a daze with a smile, your hand still in her hair.

"you wanna come to mine, sweetheart?" She asks, you've never agreed to something so fast in your life.

[grimmweepers]

— ★ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when being assigned a joint research project with a very attractive haravatat student proves to be more distracting than you ever anticipated

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: akademiya!student alhaitham x akademiya!student reader, afab!reader, established relationship (early stages), secret relationship, sex in the desert, flirting, playful banter, casual nudity, no preparation, rough fucking, multiple positions, creampie, not proofread. obv they are adults. 2.1k wc MDNI. 18+ ONLY. | masterlist

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The heat had already taken hold of you this morning.

Even before you opened your eyes, the desert sun had crept into the makeshift tent, meandered across your skin, and clung to the bedding beneath you. Outside, you could hear the wind humming in a lulling rhythm but the air inside was still heavy—scented faintly of canvas, sand, and Alhaitham.

Officially, this trip was sanctioned by the Akademiya to catalog ruins and decipher inscriptions long buried in the dunes. Your joint project culminated in months of preparation but between your academic pursuits, you and Alhaitham fell into the trap of proximity, lured by the temptation of wandering eyes and coy smiles exchanged over the rim of coffee cups. 

Long nights spent under oil lamps became less about studying and more about the rush it gave you when your knees brushed beneath low tables. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on reading when Alhaitham sat so close that his scent clouded you entirely. 

Wandering eyes turned to coy smiles turned to lingering touches turned to… well. 

Such distractions would be frowned upon by the Akademiya, yes, but how could you resist when Alhaitham treated you like you were the most fascinating discovery he had ever encountered? You both agreed on discretion to save yourself from the mortification of other scholars and seniors. They didn’t need to know about his sweet confession and the many other things you both got up to when nothing but the stars could witness you. 

So unofficially—this trip was the perfect excuse to stay tangled together despite the sweltering heat. 

You blinked against the wedge of sunlight, rolling over to a very bare Alhaitham sprawled beside you, one arm tucked lazily behind his head, the other resting just centimetres from your waist. 

“Morning,” his voice was thick with sleep but when your eyes met, you saw that his expression was immensely not.

“What’s got you so focused?” you said groggily, propping yourself on your elbow as you faced him. “Already thinking about all the hard work waiting for us today?”

Your clothes were still discarded from the night before, sitting in a crumpled heap near the corner of your bedroll. Perhaps the events of last night were why he was looking at you with that slanted smile. 

“Do you always think about work the moment you open your eyes?” he replied, tracing small circles on you. 

“Someone has to keep us on task,” you shot back, raising a brow.

“I didn’t realise I was sharing a tent with a Matra.”

Of the 20 languages he knew, the same mouth rendered him incapable of completing this project in a timely manner—what should have been done two days ago was instead spent with his tongue on your skin. 

Not that you had many complaints.

“Mm,” he added. “And here I thought mornings were for recharging, not nagging.” 

“For someone who implores efficiency in all things,” you said, poking his nose, “You spend a suspicious amount of time lying around. Observing me isn’t going to help your thesis.”

“Observing you is a worthwhile distraction actually,” his hand began to slip onto the bare curve of your hip, “In fact, I think you’re my most compelling subject.”

“I would pay you sacks of mora to include that in your report,” you retorted, clicking your tongue with false annoyance, but you were too focused on something else to actually care.

“I’ll pass,” he tipped his chin at you, “Instead of mora, another thorough exploration should suffice.”

“You’re avoiding work.”

“I prefer to think of it as redefining priorities.”

“Oh? And what’s at the top of that list now, Mr. Alhaitham?” You felt wrapped in warmth but you weren’t sure if it was from the desert or his fingers settling between your thighs.

“Must you know?” He pressed his body against you, “It seems to me you don’t think we can afford to delay.”

Suddenly, the tent felt smaller, and something familiar coiled low in your belly. You let out a soft sigh, shifting closer to him, “Enough.” 

The word felt hollow, even to your own ears.

He not only decided he wanted a repeat of last night (and the night before) but also the right to brag about passing with flying colours even when he was buried inside you during the most crucial part of the research. 

It became a cycle—he apologised for keeping you distracted and you forgave him by moaning his name. 

Never one to be so sexually inclined but now he understood why men sculpted monuments to their obsessions, why poets spilled ink in worship of carnal desires. Lust was not a sin because it was tempted, but because it was consumed. However, the way Alhaitham consumed you was completely intentional. 

You were no different from his books. He spread you open, studied you, and read every inch of you all the same.  

“I personally think we have plenty of time,” he leaned forward, slowly grazing his lips across your neck before kissing your pulse point. “Trust me.”

And trust him you did.

The world outside was quickly forgotten after he turned you on your back. Your words died in your throat as he hovered above you, capturing you in a careful kiss that tasted of salt and skin. 

There was plenty of time in the way his fingers coveted pleasure out of you. 

There was plenty of time in the way he mapped your jaw, your neck, and your collarbone with love bites. Like you were something so desirable to him.

Beads of sweat rolled down your temple as the tip of his cock shallowly pressed your entrance. Your mouth fell open—the friction was maddening, and every inch of you clung to him. Even when his lips ghosted the swell of your chest, he was lucky your skin was there to swallow his quiet grunts each time his hips moved against your tight hole. 

“Patience,” he said when you instinctively arched your back, though his own breathing was uneven. Already, his hair was tousled and damp from the heat of your bodies mingling and you felt his length throbbing on your thigh. He was so hard, you couldn’t help but wonder if the one who actually needed patience was him. 

You couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Speak for yourself,” you said, swiveling your hip upwards. A groan left his lips so quickly you saw a blush spread across his cheeks. “You’re barely holding it together.”

He grumbled in response. “You find joy in others’ misery.”

“Not at all.”

Although, your teasing wasn’t for naught. Alhaitham wasn’t exactly famous for bedding women so seeing you stripped of everything that made you prim and proper left him craving you that much more. “You should take it as a compliment that I—”

“So I’m the problem?” you laughed under him to mask the flutter in your stomach. 

“Precisely.” You were glad he remained obstinate even when he so lewdly towered over you. “You’re in such a hurry this morning. If you want to be reckless, I won’t be blamed for the consequences.”

Then a strategic purse of lips followed suit, “I thought you enjoyed my patience.”

Patience. That damned word again.

Screw patience. Whatever consequence he was referring to was burning away any semblance of patience you might have had left. Thus far, he had taken his time with you but he had only taken his time with you. If he could be more crude, you wanted to see it—feel it. 

“Alhaitham,” his entire name rolled off your tongue. Quick and demanding. Your tone only fueled the fire in his seafoam eyes. “Stop talking.”

The end of your words dissolved into a gasp as he thrust into you, hard and sudden, stretching you with a fervor you hadn’t felt before. 

His muscles flexed while you dragged your nails down his spine, closing your legs around him for even an ounce of stability. The rhythm he set was already so relentless that his hands gripped your thighs, pulling them higher around his waist to drive himself deeper, and the change in angle made all sound catch in your throat.

“Haitham—!” a cry rippled from how hips were snapping against yours with a pace that was anything but patient. He had accepted your unspoken challenge so quickly, that nothing would have prepared you. 

Your head swam.

The wet, sloppy slaps of skin meeting skin filled the tent, blending in with your jagged moans and his lower grunts. No part of his brain wasn’t thinking about how soaked you already were, how you welcomed him so easily before he slipped—no—pushed it in. 

His hair clung to his forehead, every movement felt tight and addictive. When he leaned down, his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “Is this fast enough for you?”

You could only whimper in response, feeling your toes curl as his hoarse voice and your own pleasure consumed you. 

He shifted, pulling you onto your side and hooking your leg over his shoulder. The new position sent another shockwave through you, and your priceless whines filled the small space as he drove into you over and over again.

The heat of the tent seemed endless, but so did the hunger between you. Alhaitham’s pace never truly slowed—each time your whines softened, each time you thought the storm of his touch subsided, he just tossed you into a new position, kindling the fire all over again. 

“I want to hear you,” he growled while his chest was flushed against your back. Reaching to lift your leg so his heavy cock could invade you deeper, you tried to muffle your moans into the bedding. But he grabbed your chin, tilting you to look at him, “Head up.” He half-chuckled, “You were so mouthy before. What happened to that?” 

Before you could answer—or think—he shifted again, this time unsteadily pulling you onto his lap. Your knees dug into the bedding but at that point, holding yourself upright proved difficult. His hands gripped your waist, guiding you to ride him as his mouth leisurely latched onto the peak of your breast. The combination left you shuddering, clinging to his shoulders as his fingers pressed bruises into your hips. 

“Did you know,” he slurred against your skin, “that you’re terrible and incredible?” His praise made your cheeks burn but terrible? Terrible was the way he fucking you so hard you could barely roll your hips. 

“Y-You might want to refresh yourself,” you chewed your bottom lip from yet another hard thrust, “On the meaning of ‘terrible.’” You could feel the remnants of your previous orgasms dripping down on him, “Because that’s you.”

Time blurred. You lost count of the positions, of the way he had you on all fours only to have you back in his arms moments later, of how many times you greedily begged for more. Every touch was electric; if only you could clutch him closer. The noises were shameless and the scent of filthy sex and sweat was nothing shy of erotic. 

When he pinned you beneath him again, you felt him stiffen. Every inch that sunk into you felt more desperate and even the way he called your name sounded huskier. You could have sworn the tent walls were ruffling in sync from his losing control. 

Your lips parted in a silent scream and with a final throb around his cock and a deep drawn-out groan in your ear, he released inside you for the first time. Your body drew out his pleasure as his forehead pressed against your shoulder. His laboured breathing told you everything about the ecstasy he was experiencing, like his body and brain were struggling to stay connected. Finally, he pulled out, trembling and sensitive, and collapsed beside you who was still panting. 

Ultimately you got what you wanted: unfiltered crude sex with your insufferably hot research partner. Your pulse ran wild.

A hazy silence settled, broken only by his stroking your hand to check if you were okay. Part of him wondered if he went a bit too far which you wordlessly answered by rubbing him back. He held you, and like last night (and the night before), you lay glistening and tangled together in the aftermath. 

It was a perfect system, a hopeless, delirious cycle.

“Well,” he said as he returned to tracing circles on you, “I think that concludes this morning’s exploration.”

You rolled your eyes, still dizzy and breathless, “Do you think the Akademiya will accept that as your final thesis?”

His lips quirked into a rare, little grin. “Hard to say. Who knows which of the sages might secretly be perverts?” 

“Alhaitham,” you groaned, swatting weakly at his chest. 

But then his arms tightened around you. And you didn’t mind. You didn’t protest. You believed you might have even loved being clad in nothing, lying in a cramped, too-warm tent that reeked in the musk of what transpired.

There was, as he said, plenty of time to finish the project. And if this was part of the process, you weren’t in any hurry.

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

a/n: idk if i love or hate this but it’s so hot where i am rn and the only thing i can do to distract myself from perishing from the heat is to pretend i’m here!!!

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, cheating, scandals, drugs, drama, family drama wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. next chapter

“Cash or card?”

“Card.”

The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.

It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that. 

A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour. 

As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you’re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store. 

Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!” 

“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.

He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.” 

Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”

You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.

You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him. 

It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting. 

The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”

Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is next month. There’s gonna be food and music.”

Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”

“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.” 

And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

“Can Papa come?” he frowns. 

No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience. 

The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.

He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature. 

“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.

Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”

“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”

“Do you promise?”

You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”

After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store. 

Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.

You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.

Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.

It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”

Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”

“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”

When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.

Soon, images of his son, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him. 

Not now.

You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time. 

You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.

It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.

This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?

Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.

It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left. 

Koji.

If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility. 

I wanna see Papa.

Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.

A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.

For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.

Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.

Gojo Satoru.

The father of your child, your ex of 4 years. 

You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in seven years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.

He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.

You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of seventeen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group. 

You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?

You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.

But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.

Letting him meet his father. 

“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual. 

The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.

You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”

“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”

He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”

“Good, and you?” 

“Very good.” 

The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness. 

You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”

Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.

The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”

“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.

“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”

You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”

He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”

Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”

“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”

With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.

Whatever. 

“Pizza or teriyaki?”

“Pizza!”

“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites. 

“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks. 

You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes. 

Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock. 

Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.

Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”

It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly. 

“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.

“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.

“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”

He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”

Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been seven years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”

He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid’s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course. 

You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”

“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.

Well…..shit. 

As if things weren’t already complicated.

With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..

“I-is this—”

“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”

Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”

You nod uncomfortably. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”

Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”

“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”

Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?” The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers. 

“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”

“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”

“Why?”

That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”

Silence. 

You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”

There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”

You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”

Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.” 

“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”

With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.

Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–

“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”

“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”

But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”

Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”

Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”

“And I like it when you smile with me too.”

Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally. 

You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.

That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.

But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be. 

Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad. 

The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”

“S-satoru!” 

“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”

He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.

He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out. 

Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes,  but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two. 

In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles. 

“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”

“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”

When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”

Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”

Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called “busyness”. 

Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.” 

“For what?”

“It’s important.”

“So just say it now.”

“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”

“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.

“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.

Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”

Once again, she frowns. “But I—”

“Please.” 

His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving. 

“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”

“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”

“That woman is not sweet.” 

Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.” 

A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”

“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”

Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”

Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”

Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”

“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.

Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”

“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”

“Are you now?”

“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”

A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out. “Who?” Satoru ends up asks.

His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”

Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten.  “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now. 

“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”

a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)

[demonic0angel]

Prompt: Dan Phatom as an inmate of Arkham Asylum?

Part 2

Harley hummed. She eyed the newest inmate, a gorgeous hunk of meat with dark raven hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing the usual orange suit, but he wore it like a model, with the buttons opened and sleeves rolled up, highlighting his broad arms and tight muscles. He was as beautiful as a demon, and even though Ivy was way prettier, Harley still couldn’t help but be curious.

Harley nodded to herself, thinking for only a moment. Then she waved a hand, calling out, “Yoo hoo! You there! Hey, handsome! Why don’t you come here and spend some time with me and Ivy?”

Ivy rolled her eyes next to her. “Harley!” She hissed.

The man paused, tilted his head, and then smiled, flashing his sharp fangs before he crossed the prison yard to sit down with the two. People stared at them, but the man didn’t seem bothered.

“Hello,” he said politely, “what’s up?”

“You’re new here, ain’tcha?” Harley said rhetorically. “What’re you in for?”

The man chuckled. “I thought it was rude to ask?”

“Nahhh, in here? It doesn’t matter. Everyone already knows why we’re here, there’s no secrets around here. So? What’re you in here for?”

The man smiled. “I started teasing a little bird I found and then he started getting mad at me. I didn’t like how he made Batman go after me, so I made a building explode and I was tossed into here. I didn’t even kill anyone though!”

Seeing how large and old he was, Harley was a little worried and had to ask, “Which little bird?”

“The beautiful one with the black and blue suit and the pretty smile,” the man said dreamily, curling a lock of raven hair around his clawed fingers as he looked towards the sky in a daydream. “He was pretty funny too.”

Harley immediately cooed. Anyone who thought Nightwing was funny clearly hadn’t been hit over the head by his escrima sticks while he threw out obnoxious puns, but the way he described him was so sweet! He was clearly insane, so that was completely okay in her books!

“Awww, that’s so cute! Are you a meta or what? Those fangs o’ yours don’t look human!” Harley said, while Ivy shook her head exasperatedly.

The man shook his head with a small smile. “Not exactly. But I guess I do have meta powers.”

Ivy asked, “Then doesn’t that just make you a meta?”

The man shrugged and then asked, “What about you ladies?” Harley knew that he was just dodging the question, but she didn’t mind, so she began to prattle on about the recent museum break-in she and the girls did, but Selina got away while she and Ivy were caught. Selina was planning a break out for them soon, so they just had to sit tight and wait!

The man smiled, fangs appearing again. “Can I join you? I want to see that little bird again.”

Harley beamed, “Sure thing! What’s your name?” while Ivy groaned.

The man smiled and reached over to shake her hand. His hands were cold and large, like a chunk of ice. He smiled and his pupils sharpened into slits, but oddly enough, he still looked friendly, like a tiger in a way.

“Please. Call me Wraith.”

[felassan]

David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:

"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."

"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."

"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"

[source thread]

User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]

User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]

David Gaider: "Just to clarify the "they're probably why you'll never see Fenris" thing, as it's spawned commentary: 1. It's the reasoning as was explained to me back then. 2. Obviously, if Bio *really* wanted to, they'd find a way around it. But it was a complication that meant he couldn't be included casually." [source]

[ninikrumbs]

taste me too

Satoru Gojo x reader. fluff. domestic satoru. teeny weeny bit of angst

Ever since you started dating Satoru, you have never felt that tinge of loneliness you use to feel. Not that you minded being alone. It was peaceful.

You used to go watch a movie in the cinema alone. Eat at that new restaurant with a table for one. Have cozy nights in with homemade face masks and belting out to your favorite singer of the week, self care and whatnot. In your opinion, why miss out on the things you want to do just because you’re on your own?

But now, you look to the side and there’s another hand in your popcorn basket, just as giddy for the Barbie movie. You look down at your plate and you see your steak already sliced for your convenience under the romantically lit restaurant. The man in front of you with bright blue eyes, gazing at you so endearingly with a goofy grin on his face as he listened to you babble about your day. And lastly, it wasn’t just you belting out on your hairbrush with a matcha green face mask on his face and a headband pulling back his snowy white hair.

Maybe you didn’t mind being alone, but with Satoru sitting on top of the toilet seat as he gazes up at you almost reverent like - silently waiting for his turn to try out the new lip balm you bought for the cold winter months-always wanting to be included, your eyes burn.

“Toru, stop staring.”

He pouts, “I’m just waiting for you to be done.”

You roll your eyes affectionately before you continue swiping the new balm on your dry lips, it smells like strawberry. Satisfied, you smack your lips together with a grin. Lips now soft and moisturized. “Wow! its really nice and doesn’t feel sticky.”

You turn to Satoru to hand him the lipbalm. To your surprise, he was already standing up, looking at you expectantly. “My turn, my turn!”

You laugh at his excitement, shaking your head fondly. “Here.”

You missed the mischievous glint in his eyes as his hand reaches up to supposedly grab the lipbalm from your hand. He then seemingly misses and cups your face instead. You were slightly taken aback, confused at what he was doing. “Toru what-”

You were cut you short when he leans down and plants his lips on your newly glossed ones. Your mind somewhat convinced yourself that he was ruining your lipstick so you push him back a bit. “Toru-”

But to no avail, as he pulls you by waist, flushed to his chest. He angles his head and kisses you again, deeper this time. It makes you feel warm and hazy. The smacking of lips echoes throughout the bathroom, the balm only making it more distinct. You grab onto the collar of his sweater to ground yourself. The kiss is slow and passionate and as he licks your bottom lip, his tongue tangling with yours, you forgot why you were protesting in the first place.

To your dismay, the both of you needed oxygen. You pull away first, his lips chasing yours before you hid your face in his chest, breathing heavily. “Let me breath a sec,”

He wraps his arms around your body and you feel his heart thumping fast through his chest making you smile. He chuckles, the sound flitting through you. “You’re right, it is nice- amazing even.”

You lift you head to glare at him but it has no real force behind it. “You’re shameless, you know that? Here I thought you wanted to try it!”

And he has the gal to grin, “I did try it!” He licks his lips and hums in delight, yet you doubt there were any traces of the lipbalm left. “Tastes so good too.”

Despite everything, you feel your face burn. “Youre officially kicked out of self care night!”

“What? Nooo! Baby, I was just teasing-”

Yes, you might not have any shred of peace ever again, but you don’t mind. Not one bit.

^^ comments are much appreciated <3