#but it's also so fucking good when like. you're sad and want to be comforted
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cypresswood3 · 22 hours ago
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You know what. Lemme share my opinions on Malevolent shippers. Not the ships themselves. The people.
Starting off strong, Dollins shippers are somehow the nicest and coziest people out there. You guys sometimes come up with the craziest stuff but. You know the perfect balance between treating these characters and their traumas seriously AND writing them like an old classic Tom-and-Jerry-like cartoon. They are goofy and cute and smell like home. One's a killer for hire and the other is a tortured-by-eldrich-beings detective and you manage to make it into a romcom. I have nothing but respect for Dollins shippers. You are so good to your characters. Like an opposite of Kayne. You smell of fresh pie.
Parkthur shippers are like... the adults of the fandom? I'm not sure how to put it. Yall are mature. You explore parkthur to hell and back. The way you write their relationship is always full comradery and love in its purest form. Not traumabonded like Noel and Arthur, not dependant like blind faith, not brought together by trials like jarthur, but not quite as domestic as dollins. Parkthur is always very real and very human. I'm honestly a big fan of parkthur myself. Arthur's backstory was always the more interesting part of the lore for me (breaking my silence I've always loved Arthur more than John and it'll remain so). So you guys. You guys are the big siblings of the fandom.
Arthur and Noel shippers... I've honestly only seen it done as Arthur x Noel x John. And I love that. You guys hold so much love for Noel it almost makes me tear up. The way you write your stuff feels more of a Noel's good ending then jarthur's. And it's not a complaint in the slightest. You take jarthur and you fit Noel in so well and smooth he actually fixes them. You make Noel jarthur's home and family, and you make them his anchors. You guys are full of hope. When it comes to John x Noel (Arthur is there third wheeling or smth)... You guys are like dollins shippers witht their comfy domestic vibes, but you have an additional sprinkle of... healing. You love your John and Noel and treat them so so well, but it's less of a silly cartoony thing (like dollins) and more of a... story of rediscovery and, again, healing. You have a domestic vibe of a comfort book. Also you create the most insane things when you're horny /very pos.
Blind faith aka Arthur and Oscar shippers. Guys are you okay. It's a banger ship but guys. Guys how are we feeling. Have you tasted anything but tears in the last... forever? You create the most touching and soul crushing pieces of fan-creations but it takes you all your happiness to do so. You embrace the sad the same way Arkayne-ists embrace the horny. Even when you make them happy they're still engulfed in an aura of melancholy. You can write them in a good ending au and it still tastes bitter. And I don't mean it as a bad thing. You guys write Oscar and Arthur like they're doomed Sea and Moon yuri and I fuck with it. So hard. Yall are insanely talented. But also insanely sad. Do you guys want a cookie.
Arkayne. I'm convinced that all Arkayne shippers are actually Kayne's alternative accounts. Yall are ruthless but in the best way possible. Going through Malevolent you either defaultly ship jarthur or arkayne and I have nothing but awe for those whose heart calls for arkayne. I love your fics, guys. Having them in my browser history is incriminating but god. You really look at everyone else and cackle maniacally because you can do anything. Yall can go as crazy as humanly possible and that would still be Kayne. I love arkayne shippers because yall are genuinely so so fun. Yall are the type of people wh didn't drown their sims in pools. Because it was old and boring. Your ghosts were all colors of the rainbow because yall went overboard with your stuff. Honestly same.
Larson and Yellow shippers are quiet and almost unnoticeable but they make the most jaw-dropping gut-wrenching fanfiction known to man. They take Yellow and sink their teeth into him ruthlessly. Where John fans dissect him with care and patience, Yellow enjoyers tear him apart and drag the raw still-beating heart out of him. Whereas other shippers make stuff with hope, your works are embraced in a stench of doom. And it's sweet but in a way rotten flesh is sweet. You take Larson and Yellow and ask the question, can they see salvation and become better together? Then you make them try through blood and sweat and tears and tell them NO. And it leaves them both in agony. And it leaves me in agony. "Raw" is really the best word that comes to mind to describe you. I love you but please stop hurting me.
Larthur idk never saw anyone ship it but if someone does delete your account lmao. Freaks.
There is like a dozen more ships you can make but I've only yapped about the most prominent ones. Will make a part two if there's stuff I genuinely forgot or can yap about. It's 4 am please don't be hard on me if I missed something ultra obvious. It'll come to me.
And jarthur shippers. You think I forgot that don't you. I didn't. It's a fully conscious decision.
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roxoxoxoxy · 7 hours ago
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Prompt 25 26 and 31 for antonnnnn
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You cooked with this one anon, also this is so long and probably had more plot than you wanted, my bad 🙏🏼🙏🏼
Prompt game list
Made this kind of hurt/comfort? Sorta? Reader gives in super fast. Also have you guys seen that clip of Anton's dad talking about how Anton used to sing rewrite the stars in the shower? He's so cute.
Obligatory this will have typos and grammar is a loose concept here.
25- "Do you know what you do to me?" As they press kisses down your stomach.
26- "You're such a pervert.." You mumble, a shy smile curving your lips. "Only for you, mia cara," They mutter kissing your aching breasts.
31- They drop the towel from their waist and crawl onto the bed, caging you. "What are you going to do to me?" You ask, your fingers dancing a trail down his chest.
Minors dni
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You consider slamming the door when you enter Antons apartment, making your anger known to him in a way he can't ignore but decide it's ultimately not the best idea. You instead settle on throwing your shoes aggressively on the floor as you change into your slippers, entering the living room to voice your upset at him.....only to see he's not there.
That only serves to piss you off more, he was a no-show on your anniversary date and he's not even at his own apartment? The thought of him ditching you to go hang out with someone else is about to give you a fucking aneurysm when you suddenly hear sounds coming from his bathroom. Getting closer to the door you can hear him singing 'rewrite the stars', if you weren't so mad at him you'd find this cute. Right now it's just annoying.
You take a deep breath, setting down the leftovers from the restaurant you were waiting at him for on the coffee table. You don't even want to call them left overs, you barely touched your food waiting for him to show you. It might as well be take out. You sit down on his couch, silently waiting for him to get out, stewing in your anger.
Anton being Anton he takes an unimaginable amount of time in the shower, by the time he comes out it's already been over thirty minutes and your anger as simmered down into a mix of sadness and exhaustion. The fancy dress you picked out to wear is starting to feel uncomfortable and the feeling of your jewelry against your skin is overstimulating you.
When he finally comes out of the shower he's wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he looks so good with his hair wet and muscles out that you consider forgiving him right then and there, thankfully your self-respect kicks in before you can really commit to that decision.
Anton looks surprised to see you, he's halfway through forming a smile when you see him connect the dots. The way you're dressed, the food on the table, what day it is. His face goes from joy to shock to guilt like he's a cartoon character, it almost makes you laugh.
"oh......shit." he says, voice sounding deflated.
"Yeah." You think about something actually clever and snappy to say back to him but come up with nothing. You're just so upset.
"I set an alarm." He blurts out, looking both awkward and confused at the same time.
"I'm sure you did." You say, sarcastically. The look he gives you almost makes you regret saying that. He looks guilty, with the eyes of a kicked puppy but when you remember what it was like watching the waiter come back to you and ask you over and over if you were ready to order. The staff looked at you with such pity that thinking about it is making you angry all over again.
"I'm sorry" he comes closer to you, reaching to hold your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I'm so so sorry....what can I do to make it up to you? Please I'll do anything, I love you"
"Yeah I felt pretty loved today." You pull your hands away from his, folding your arms across your chest. Anton kneels Infront of you, his hands on your knee, looking up at you.
"Please don't be like that" Your resolve melts a little, you sigh looking down at him.
"Make it up to me then." Anton raises and eyebrow at the way you phrased that, trying to gauge whether or not you're implying what he thinks you're implying.
"You wanna have sex? Right now? I thought you were mad at me" His tone is teasing, a grin plastered across his face.
"Shut up. You're the one who's basically naked. If you keep teasing me I'll go back to being upset with you" Anton shuts up but he's still had that cocky smile on his face. He reaches to pick you up, princess carrying you to his room. You can't help but get a little flustered at his strength, he didn't even grunt when he picked you up.
He kisses you on the way to his room, giggling against your mouth as you fumble to open his bedroom door without breaking the kiss. After a tad bit more struggling you finally manage to open the door and he sets you down on the bed. He drops the towel from his waist and crawl onto the bed, caging you.
"What are you going to do to me?" You ask, your fingers dancing a trail down his toned chest, taking in his naked body with no shame. He's been working out more recently, he's on a calorie surplus to gain more muscle so his biceps look extra bite-able lately. He has that boyish smile on his face as he watches you admire him, a mix of cocky and bashful.
"Nothing you won't like." He whispers against the skin on your neck before nibbling on it. Your back arches slightly, giving him just enough room to slide his arm under you, pressing you as close against him as he can. He pulls back, pulling off your dress so fast you almost complain about him being too hasty. He cuts you off by slowly kissing down your body, leaving open mouthed desperate kisses down your collarbone.
"You're such a pervert.." You mumble, a shy smile curving your lips.
"Only for you, princess" He mutters, kissing your aching breast. He takes the nipple into his mouth, using his tongue to stimulate it, causing small tingles of please to crawl up your body. He uses his hand to squeeze the other breast, massaging it softly before he switches sides. You whine, unintentionally raising your hips.
"Anton...cmon..." You say, you're just short of begging him to keep going to where you need him most. pouting when he giggles at your words.
"Who's the pervert now? Why don't you tell me what you want me to do? Hm?" You roll your eyes, looking away from him.
"You're taking a lot of liberties for someone who missed our anniversary dinner" that seems to shut him up, he bites the inside of his cheek.
"Ah....I should probably save the teasing for another day" you're starting to worry you killed the mood when Anton leans back up to plant a sweet kiss on your mouth, making out with you for a bit until you're out of breath.
"Do you know what you do to me?" He asks, kissing back down your body. "You looked so good in that dress, I'm kicking myself over not being there to admire you at the restaurant. Wish I had time to soak all of you in"
He reaches your thighs, lowering his face to right above your knee, slowly starting to kiss up your inner thigh. His kisses get more messier the closer he gets to your cunt, making you squirm. He uses his hands to hold you down, you can feel him chuckle against you, his breath hot against your skin.
You can't help but think he looks pretty like this, his hair is wet and unstyled, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink. You almost start to zone out looking at him when the feeling of lips pecking your clit snaps you out of it. You let out a involuntary whine, reaching down to tangle your hand in his hair as he begins to suck on your clit softly.
"Fuck- Anton that feels so good-" He moans in response, which only intensified the feeling. He moves down, his tongue finding your entrance and pushing in. He brings tongue fucking you, using his hands to hold you down when you start squirming again. He shifts his hands down so they're cupping your ass, lifting you off the bed slightly and pulling back his face.
"Grind against my face." His voice is thick and desperate, voice shaky from trying to catch his breath. "I know how much you like my nose."
You shut him up by pushing his face down again, doing as your told and grinding against him. His nose feels perfect, the tip of his nose nudging against your clit every time you grind on his face. You can't hold back your moans, if your mind wasn't clouded from pleasure you'd be embarrassed by how loud you're being.
"Anton I'm getting close"
He lets out a deliciously loud moan when you say that, the vibrations tipping you over the edge. You squeeze your thighs around his face as you cum, riding out your high by holding his face down. By the time you're done Anton's face is soaked in you. His lips are swollen and his hair is somehow even more of a mess. He licks his lips, not breaking eye contact when he sits up.
"Forgive me yet?" You're still catching your breath but you manage to sit up, reaching down to wrap your hand around Anton's hard cock. It's all red and needy from eating you out, the tip has a drop of precum oozing out of it. Anton can't hold back from hissing at the feeling of your hand, clearly pent up.
"No, i think you still have some making up to do"
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This is way longer than I wanted it to be LMAO, any interaction is appreciated.
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mylonelylife135 · 2 days ago
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I'm stupid why'd I think the polls would be at the end of chapters man
Uhhhhhhh idk man I'm making polls and chapters separate since adding them both together seems a bit much, especially since there will be longer chapters like chapter 5.
Alr so since im too lazy to make 2 posts since theres not much of a point chapter 5 is going to be longer compared to other chapters and will go through a short timeskip that WILL be shown cause I'm not gonna make you go from 4 to 18 or something with 'as the years passed you became more sad and neglected until you decide to move out...' FUCK THAT SHIT CAUSE WYM YOU WENT THROUGH WHEN YOU WERE A TODDLER TO AN ADULT AND MOVING OUT IN ONE CHAPTER??? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH SHIT YOU COULD'VE WRITTEN ABOUT LIKE YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH THE BATFAMILY AND WHY IT COULD BE STRAINED OR WHY THEY DON'T LIKE YOU??? HUHHH???? YOU CAN'T JUST SAY 'DAMIAN HATES YOUR GUTS' AND NOT ELABORATE ON IT OTHER THAN 'HE THINKS YOU'RE A STAIN ON THE WAYNE NAME' OR 'HE SAW YOU AS COMPETITION AT ONE POINT' MF THAT'S THE MOST DISAPPOINTING ASS SHIT GIVE US A REASON THAT ISN'T JUST THAT BULLSHIT CAUSE DAMN I WILL GIVE YOU ALL A GOOD FUCKING REASON I SWEARRRRRRR.
It's either that or you once had a good relationship with a character like Jason before he died but he dies, comes back and suddenly doesn't like you like bruh, at least show us that they got along, hello? That's like if I said 'you and Alfred had a great relationship.' During my story and all is it is just 'Alfred comforts you.' and I just cut out all the times Alfred has been there for you and cared for you like BRUHHHHHH how are you going to care about your relationship with the batfsmily if you're not given a reason to? 💀
Anyways the point is sorry my polls aren't in chapters, chapter 5 is going to be longer than the others because you grow up and sort of time skip except I'm showing it and expressing my frustrations with writing cause if I give you all a story that's 'you and Dick avoid eachother and were never close for some reason.' Then I've already failed this story, myself and you all by not putting in the effort to show WHY you don't get along with the family, especially when I know I can write something interesting that you all can enjoy.
My bad for turning this into whatever this is, I am dissatisfied with neglected reader fics and want to put as much effort into mine as possible if there's a chance that some of you are also not satisfied with them like me.
Here, Have fish.
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lucyvaleheart · 1 year ago
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lil secret desire of mine is like. i hide my face a lot and I fucking dream about being forced out of that; someone pulling my hands away, or grabbing my chin and making me look at them, or otherwise not letting me hide away
sexually or not that shit slaps so good every fucking time 😵‍💫
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angelltheninth · 2 months ago
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Friends with Benefits with Love and Deepspace Men
Pairing: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, creampie, friends with benefits, protectiveness, love confession, fingering, realization of feelings, denaial of feelings, mating press, desk sex, jealusy, flirting, referanced cunnilingus
Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions
A/N: I would legit want to be their friends. The benefit is heaing me yap about how pretty they all are and whatever my newest hyperfixation is.
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FwB!Zayne always tries to keep things strictly professional beween the two of you. There's him when he is your friend and collegue and him when he's making love to you on the surface of his desk. It's easy for him to cross between the lines, one moment he's giving you advice or talking about problem he has and the next he has his hand down your underwear and the other over your mouth, keeping you quiet. He's actually very good at going between the two modes and will never cross a line without your permission. Any feelings he might develop he will only show when he's being your lover, not when he's your friend.
FwB!Rafayel hides behind the flirting he does to make you belive he;s not as serious as he is. There will always be a time for him to be your friend and listen to any problems you make have, go on movie dates with you, take you shopping and order your favorite food when you're sad. And then there is the time when he offers to take your mind off what ever is bothering you by holding you close while you ride his cock and breathe heavily against his neck. Ocassionaly you have said you loved each other, and both of you know it's true, but you want to take a bit more before your relationshp takes that next step.
FwB!Xavier gets too into his own head about the whole deal becuase how is supposed to act that he wasn't balls deep in you the night before when you walk funny in front of him. Downright impossible for him to ignore the signs you give him. And he really does try his best but he doesn't want to make it seem like he only wants you for sex so he ends up texting you a lot while you're apart. Which only confuses things more. Truly he wishes there was an easy way for him to deal with this. Perhaps the best thing is for him to confess that he wants to be your boyfriend, not just the guy who makes you come and then never talks about it again until the next time.
FwB!Sylus teases you so much that you have no idea when he wants to be your friend and when he wants to fuck. There have been times where he deliberately made you think one thing only to do the other. Mindgames like these are fun for him, and watching you get all out of sorts because of it is even better. For as many times as he's fucked you into the bed he was also the one to comfort you when you were full of doubts and wanted nothing in return. Part of him hates that you still see him as a friend after all of that but he also won't force you to see him as anything else. Besies it's only a matter of time before you do.
FwB!Caleb is too jealous to stay just friends after the very first night you spend togeteher. Stares at othe guys that flirt with you so much a few of them actually took off running in the opposite direction. He didn's spend the whole night eating you out until you could no longer scream his name just for some other guy to swoop in and take you home. Try as he might to hide his jealus side it's very much impossibe, his smile gets sour and tight every time you tell him a guy flirted with you. A man like him can only tolorate so much before he confesses to you while fucking you. Not even romantically, he growls it out while having you folded in half and just as he fills you up with cum.
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rimunagenius · 10 months ago
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It’s Time You Switch
ʚ pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader
ʚ word count: 4.4k words
ʚ prompt: “Fuck your boyfriend, he a bitch. I think it’s time you switch.”
ʚ warnings: RPF!! , smut!!, voyeurism, dirty talk?, face riding, fingering, oral reader!receiving, basically porn with little plot
ʚ rimunagenius speaks: in which Paige turns straight girls ;) i have not written smut since my wattpad era so im sooo insanely rusty but i also have never felt the touch of a woman romantically sooo idek if this will be any good…suggestions are welcome to make it better!! and for future works!!
| Masterlist | Women’s Basketball Masterlist |
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"I don't know what I did to him, though. That's what I can't let go. He's being so dry and cold." You told the team as you did dynamic warm up before practice started.
Coach G just shook his head, listening to all your guy problems. This was just another boy for him to hate on campus. At this rate, the whole male and female population at UConn was on his shit list.
"I say, you dump him." KK said, patting your back mid walking lunge. "He's been doing this for months now, it's time to drop him, girl boo.” You told KK a lot of things. She was just a freshman but she become a quick and good friend.
You met her in a class you had been taking and started talking, soon finding out you were both on the same team. It shocked her, but after finding out you stayed off social media, the press release of her committing was new news. You were a senior and she was a freshman, but this friendship was like you two knew eachother forever.
"Yeah, I agree with K." Paige said, from the other side of you. A soft, comforting smile on her face.
"You know what could fix this? A girls night." Aaliyah smiled, her eyebrows wiggling suggesting you guys go out.
"I know you're not planning to go out, get drunk on the night before a game." Coach yelled from his seat on the bench.
"But Coach, c'mon! My girls feeling sad." Paige feigned a pout, grabbing your shoulders and pointing your face, you pouting your lips and batting your lashes.
"Nah, it's okay. I don't really want to go out anyways. Staying in is the move." You sighed, the stretching finished.
You talked about it all practice—sad about it all practice. After, Paige suggested you come over to her place, a sleepover. You begrudgingly agreed. Telling her she needed to take you home to get some clothes; Paige shutting it down because you could borrow hers.
That was the first mistake. It didn't feel like a mistake in the end but that was the first step to a very confusing day afterwards. The second, sharing a bed with the blonde.
You both decided to lay in her bed, get fat on snacks, and watch all the movies you could before getting sleepy and tapping out for the night. I guess Paige had another tapping in mind.
"You know he doesn't deserve you so why do you stay with him?" Paige disregarded the movie, turning her head slightly to look at you.
"He does deserve me, he's just struggling, I guess." You shrugged your shoulders, dwelling on the fact that you couldn't figure out what he was actually struggling with.
"Fuck your boyfriend. He's a bitch for the way he's acting with a pretty girl like you." Paige got passionate about defending her friends. Especially when someone in their life wasn't treating them right. She was more of a protector. A fierce one.
"Paige, that's a little mean."
"It's true. It's time you switched. I'm telling you, girls are so much less complicated. They're easier to read and better at communicating." Paige smirked to you, knowing you wouldn't shoot for it.
"Please, if I knew how, I would." You rolled your eyes, looking down, shoving a potato chip in your mouth.
Paige's eyes went wide. There's no way you were actually serious. You looked like the straightest of straight girls, a very attractive one. Which is why she thought it sucked you didn't swing that way. "No way, are you serious?" She laughed.
"Yeah, but I dont even think I like girls like that." You furrowed your brows. You never actually thought about it. You had no idea if the "girl crushes" you had were actually crushes.
"What does that mean?"
"Like, I've seen girls and thought they were super attractive. I'd wonder what it'd be like to kiss them, and I used to say i’d treat them better than their actual boyfriends, but I didn't think that far." That set it off for Paige. That's how it started. First you thought about what it'd be like to kiss a girl, then to date, and then to fuck.
"Have you ever thought about dating them?" Paige already knew where this was going.
"Yeah sort of. But I was always with him that it was whatever." You looked to Paige.
"Well it's time you switch." She smiled smugly at you, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm down to show you how." That was the most forward Paige had ever been with a girl. She knew it was swaying you, the contemplation clouding your vision, deep in thought.
"What do you mean 'show me'? Like how to fuck?" Your brows furrowed as you questioned the blonde beside you.
"That's exactly what I mean..." Paige's eyes watched yours, waiting for the green light.
"Okay." Suddenly the air in your lungs disappeared when Paige grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. She wanted this for so long. You and her had been bestfriends all throughout your childhood. She had even told Geno he couldn't give her an offer without giving you one. Your skills in basketball were exceptional, your work ethic and athleticism and ability to work with people around you. You and Paige made a great team.
She had admired everything about you for as long as she could remember. She was just waiting on you. You moaned into the kiss, opening your legs so she could slot her body between yours, achieving the best angle to kiss you.
Something in you felt like this was all muscle memory. Like you two have done this before. Her hands moved to your hips, her grip firm but so soft. You two kicking the snacks off the bed, not caring about the mess that was to be made.
"Imma take your clothes off...that okay?" Paige's lips trailed down the collumn of your neck, moaning at the sensation your body sparked throughout her body.
"Yeah, okay. Please." Instantaneously Paige's fingers dropped the the waistband of your pajama shorts, and the waistband of your underwear. The feeling of lace pulling a groan from the blondes throat. Ridding you of your pants and underwear, her hand grabbed the hem of your shirt—her shirt, sliding it up.
You sat up, pulling it off, panting softly. You couldn't believe this was happening. The least you expected from this sleepover was hooking up with your bestfriend, in her bed, on a friday night. You then grabbed Paige's face, needing her lips on yours like you were a woman starved.
Paige was a sweetheart; a golden retriever, kind, and good person...but when it came to her game, on and off the court, she was literally a cocky fuck boy who could prove they could get into your pants. She was a respectful woman, one of the best even, but the second mutual interest was involved; game over.
While making out, her hand cupping your breast over the padding of your bra, the only clothing you seemed to have on left, she bit your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it with her teeth. Your back arched, moaning at the sensation she was able to wash your body in, she quickly unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off when you were flat on your back.
Having the soft skin of yours exposed, she slowed her movements, dodging your face when you tried to kiss her again. "Show me how he got you off." The sentence shocked you.
"Huh?" You looked at her, her eyes having the same challenging look. She knew she'd do ten times better than he ever could. Plus, it helped that her anatomy and your anatomy were the same...meaning, she knew where everything was.
"You heard me, show me what he did for you, so I can show you that I can do it better." Her long hair falling on her shoulders, she slid her Huskies t-shirt off, leaving her in a black sports bra.
You shifted on the bed, nervous but willing. She already had you naked, you were already so wet so you knew when you try and fail to get yourself off like how your ex did, she'd make it better. Paige always made it better.
You reached your hand down, sliding your fingers through your soaking wet cunt, gathering as much as your slick as possible, gasping softly. The feeling of your fingers ghosting your clit, you remembered that you were supposed to be doing this how he did, so you disregarded the spot your body ached and pleaded for physical contact, and jumped straight to inserting two fingers.
You looked at Paige, a look in her eyes you've never seen before. "Wait, he didn't even—?" She was confused but really focused nonetheless. You knew she wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing, she was; she was literally getting soaked at watching you play with yourself, but she just couldn't take her eyes off your pretty pussy. She would never be your 'friend' again after tonight.
You shook your head at her question and continued in fingering your self, curling your fingers at the right spots, maintaining the even yet somewhat hasty pace. Your panting started to get louder, your eyes fluttering closed every now and again. Slowly coaxing yourself to your high, you spread your legs wider, reaching your hand out, signaling Paige you wanted her to grab your hand.
She placed her hand in yours and she was immediately pulled on top of you, your mouth finding hers. Your hand never wavered in the work you were doing on yourself, which is why Paige swallowed the loud moan induced by your orgasm, as you slowly started to slow the rhythm of your fingers, riding out the small orgasm.
You don't know why you did it, you only were conscious of it after you had placed the fingers that were previously inside of you, into her mouth. Your jaw slack, jus a tiny bit, watching and feeling her lick your fingers, swallowing any trace of your she can hope to find. You couldn’t believe you were behaving like this. So dirty but so willing.
Paige moaned at the action, not trying to deny that what you had done could've made her come alone. She started to drag her lips from yours, to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, all the way to and down your neck, sloppy and lazy but sensual kisses were left in her wake.
She wouldn't dare leave any marks behind, your guys' team would calculate what went down her tonight. So she settled for non-visible hickeys. When her lips met your breasts, she took her sweet time with both. Her tongue swirling around your taught nipple, her free hand kneeding the other.
Your back was already arching off the bed, hands tugging at the sheets below you. The soft cries leaving your lips egging her on.
She moved across the other breast, a trail of purple and red trailing the way, her hand switched places. You couldn't take this...you needed her somewhere else. You loved this but holy was she dragging it out.
Before you could even ask—beg, her to move where you were so desperately wanting her, her hand was already spreading your leg open, lips following a foreign, yet so familiar path, all the way down to the curve of your thighs.
She started slowly, opting to tease you, but also educate you like she promised. You understood the significance of foreplay, hell you craved it in your evidently clear soon to be previous relationship, but you couldn't take the ache your pussy had for Paige. It's like it knew you needed her all along. It didn't help that you hated the prolonged attention, but also loved it. Watching her worship your body was something so unexplainably attractive.
The way she slowly placed soft kisses from your knees, massaging the soft skin of your calf's along the way, all the way up your thigh. The closer her lips got to your center, the more antsy you became. You needed her mouth to connect already. You couldn't take it anymore.
"Oh, my god. Paige...please." You sighed, your panting growing more and more viscous.
"Please what, gorgeous?" Her lips ghosted over your wet folds as she moved to the other leg, now blatantly teasing the fuck out of you, while she smiled and kissed every expanse she could.
"Please just eat my pussy already. I can't take it." You almost cried begging her to finally do something. She had you masturbate infront of her for christ sake.
"Whatever you want." She looked into your eyes, her pupils blown, a blissed out smile and haze on her face. Almost immediately after, her face disappeared in between your legs. Paige licked a stripe up your soaking cunt, from the entrance all the way to the most sensitive nerve ending.
The sound that escaped your mouth was borderline pornographic as the built up arousal finally was being tended to. The feeling of her slick tongue running one more stripe through your folds before swirling around your clit was something you absolutely could not imagine. Your mind in a foggy mess.
"You taste so sweet, baby." The name leaving her mouth ignited fuzziness that you felt in your toes all the way to your scalp. Her voice hoarse, mouth glistening from you, you could never get this sight out of your head; nor did you want to.
"Ohhhh, my god." It came out like a pure cry. The choked moans mixed with tears and strained sobs, elicited a newfound hunger in Paige.
Her mouth doing double time, her tongue swirling and licking perfectly paced, her lips sucking and kissing all the right places at the right time, started to build up the coil in your belly. The feeling growing more and more intense the more she praised you from between your legs. "You're doing so good for me, baby." You couldn't even breathe.
The coil snapping, the tension in your belly now releasing, a gushing mess now painted Paige's gorgeous face, your mouth agape.
You couldn't help but scream...almost. Your moan so loud, Paige covered your mouth with her hand. "Shh, don't want the neighbors to hear." Paige panted softly in your ear, before cracking the signature smirk.
The smugness she had while she saw the aftermath of what seemed to be the best orgasm you have ever had in your life. Your breathing still shallow, your chest heaving, the pattern of the way it rises and falls mesmerizes Paige. Her ego being fed tremendously watching the way you fell apart just by her going down on you.
She couldn't help but want to brag to your ex that he couldn't even make you feel half of what she just did. The accomplishment of getting you to look like this in her bed, your breath fanning over her face as she hovered over you, the accomplishment in having you like this, with her in her bed, was truly a miracle.
Paige loved it. She could go this whole night just fulfilling your needs, showing you everything you missed out on in your pointless one sided relationship. She intended to.
"Oh, my god. That was—" You stopped, your breath finally returning. "That was fucking amazing." You looked at the blonde who seemed to be content watching you fall apart.
The smugness on her face but the adoration of you being here, pure evidence that she was enjoying every second of it. "It was. Didn't know you were a screamer." The cocky Paige returned, forgetting keeping the moment remotely intimate. You smacked her arm that rested next to your body, and grabbed her face and kissed her.
You caught her off guard, her mouth open due to a small gasp, and took that as your chance to slide your tongue in her mouth. You two made out like horny teenagers. You two weren't that far from being teenagers, that was only a couple years ago, but you two made eachother feel like two young kids, absolutely enamored with the idea of each other that you couldn't get off of eachother.
You two made out, you slowly turning yourself so you could be on top. Paige knew what you were trying to do, allowing you to take control for now. You oulled apart, looking down at her, picturing this, saving it for the foreseeable future. Chasing your lips, Paige grabbed your face, pulling you into a deepening kiss. You two literally couldn't get enough of eachother.
Before you could even get the rest of Paige's clothes off, she grabbed your hips that were resting on hers, and pulled them forcefully over towards her chest. You gasped and yelped, suprised at the sudden force she was using. Hesitant to follow, you saw her hungry gaze go between your eyes and your now—again, soaking cunt.
There was no way. "Paige, no. Don't even think about it." You warned, a small intimidating look. It normally had an affect on Paige on the court, knowing when she saw it, you talked a big game and backed it up. But right now, in the bedroom, you were hers and she had the control.
Tonight was to show you what you were missing out on, and how to get a girl going. There was no way she'd let you have the control, no matter how much she wanted it. She'd save that for another night. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself, but there was going to be another night with you.
"What are you talking about?" The smugness returned, along with a feigned clueless look. You couldn't take her serious with the fact that your thighs were damn near putting her in a chokehold, her hands inching you closer and closer to where she wanted you...where she wanted you to sit, preferably.
"Paige, i'm not about to sit on your face." You tried scooting back, forgetting that Paige was actually stronger than you. The ferocity in which she pulled your hips, your pussy ghosting her lips at the force and aim in which she yanked you, a small gasp escaped your sealed lips.
You yanked your hips back, giving her a pointed look. "I was trying to literally fuck you, not trying to sit on your face. Let me make you feel good, baby." Paige knew she could get away with calling you baby, you probably weren't thinking much of it when she said it. But Paige said it with conviction, just the way you did right now.
The name only egged her on when you used it in this context. The only context Paige wanted to hear it in. "Your making me feel good by letting me make you feel good. I promise i'm fine, I just want you to sit this pretty pussy on my face. Will you let me?" Her eyes sincere, the smirk playing on her lips slowly convincing you by the second.
"You promise?" You whispered, suddenly conforming to the blonde underneath you. Something about the way she talked easily convinced you.
"Yeah. Promise." You stared down at her, unsure. Not wanting to crush her, your thighs being pretty full, the muscle you've built over the years, and just the general size being something you've been insecure about since you were a little girl.  She knew that.
That's why when she saw the look on your face, she kissed your thighs. In whatever spot she could reach. She gave you a reassuring nod, smile on her face. Albeit you didn't know what kind—cocky or comforting. Either way, when she said what she did, you immediately obeyed.
"Sit on my face." You then moved both knees eye level with Paige, falling back slightly, your pussy ghosting her lips again. The second you put your full weight on her face, her mouth got to work.
The sensation and new angle elicited some explicit sounds. 'Didn't know you were a screamer' kept replaying in your head when you tried to quiet down the moans only Piage seemed to be able to pull from you, escaped your lips.
Her hands cupped your ass, pressing your body down impossibly closer and harder into her face. She seemed to be pushing so hard, you were scared you were going to suffocate her. Her tongue teased your entrance, swiftly ghosting in and out of it, before lapping at your folds and clit perfectly.
She ate you like a woman starved. Like if this was her last meal. You had enjoyed every second of this exchange. You reached your hand down slowly, softly moving your hand in slow circles on your clit, overstimulating yourself.
Paige took notice of your fingers now getting to work, a gravely groan reverberating into your wet pussy as she looked up at you, and quickly closing her eyes in bliss. She decided that since you wanted to touch yourself, she'd slide a finger or two into you. To really get you going. Wasn’t the most ideal positioning but she was going to make it work.
Her head bobbed subtly, effectively getting her tongue into the small space where her fingers were about to make an appearance. Inserting one finger, Paige watched, felt, and listened to the way your body reacted to her movements.
Using each reaction to her advantage. The small gasp you let out when she inserted herself into you, the way your breathing reluctantly changed pace, so she inserted another, noticing how your breath picked up. That's when she curled her fingers methodically to the pace she set for herself, matching the pace you set while you continued rubbing circles in your clit.
It didn't take long for Paige to brung you closer to the edge while her tongue picked up the slack for your fingers. You stopped your movements and let her do the work, she could tell it was good by the volume your pants and moans were sounding. She was working overtime while you ran your hand over her hair, eventually looking for another anchor to grip to while you violently come undone by your best friend. "Oh, my god. Right there. Don't stop." You panted, your jaw dropped.
Your legs started to shake, Paige's pace relentless while she finger fucked you in her bed, while she simultaneously ate you out. This wasn't the way you expected to spend your night, and neither did Paige, but holy fuck was it worth it.
"Don't you dare stop—Oh!" The coil snapped once again, a guttural cry and moan left your lips. You swore that any person who was passing by Paige's apartment would've thought you were filming porn. The moans you moaned were insane and absolutely the biggest turn on for Paige. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't already get off on just hearing you.
Yeah, she worked at you, and saw your oh so pretty parts, but listening to the affect she had on you, the comparison made between her and your ex and the ego boost that came with it, were just the perfect amount to get her off on just pleasuring you for the last two hours.
Your breath uneven, slowly moving your legs away from her face, your chest still heaving. She chuckled softly, before looking over to you, while you laid yourself next to her. "That's how it's done, baby." Paige held her hand up, trying to signal a high five.
You looked at her blankly, her seeing the absolute fucked our face you had, and then pulled you closer to her. Your body resting against hers; the stark contrast of your overheated body, compared to her cold and cool body.
The contrast easing the overwhelmed feeling you harbored just a little easier. "You did so good for me, baby. You looked so hot while I made you come. Couldn't believe it." You smacked her chest, feeling a little cringed that she had to see you and all the faces you could've made while you had the most earth shattering orgasms.
"Paige. Oh my god, stop." You laughed, she did too, You two laid there for a minute before she broke the silence.
"You're not going back to him, right?" Her voice now withdrawn from the cockiness and confident undertones, and just pure nerves and concern. She hoped you'd say no. That you'd choose to stay with her, and tell her he was just there until you realized your feelings for her were the same as the ones she's had for you all these years.
"No, I'm breaking up with him tomorrow. You think i'd go back to him, when he couldn't do half the shit you did with your tongue alone? Yeah, right." You looked up at Paige, your bestfriend. You couldn't believe this is what your relationship evolved to in a matter of two hours.
"Soo, that means..." Paige was hopeful. She just wanted you to say what she's been wanting to say for years.
"Let's date. I love you, you obviously love me," She looked away, embarrassed, and playfully pushed you away. You grabbed her arm, pulling her back so she could look you in the eyes. "Do you want to be my girlfriend? Serious."
"Serious. I'll be your girlfriend. Finally." Paige kissed you, slowly. Melting into eachother, the weight of the new relationship status now sinking in. You two were ecstatic.
You decided to clean up, showering, again, her inevitably joining you. When you both settled and were ready for bed. Too tired and fucked out to continue the movie—restart the movie—you two had started a while ago, it was quiet and dark in the room when Paige suddenly whispered, "I knew you weren't straight."
"Paige, got to sleep! Oh my god." You chuckled before smacking her with the pillow under your head.
"Jeez! Sorry! But I called it."
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bbluefllame · 2 months ago
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𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 .ᐟ
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synopsis: college au texts (& small hcs) with the girls + tropes<3
characters: jinx, vi, caitlyn, sevika
notes: SHE'S BACKKKKK!!! sorry for being gone for so long #igotintoleagueoflegends(thegame.), regular posting will be back !! other than that, sevikas part was my fave bless.
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vi. + fake dating (also biker! vi)
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- how this whole fake dating thing started was through a hook up actually!!
- both of you got shitfaced & you two were already friends, so after vi saw Maddie with caitlyn she was like "nah fuck it I'm gonna get her back!!" (classic, sigh.)
- this is random, but she's actually a really good cook (in my head) and she's probably made some fire meals 4 you
- for some reason.. she gives me xxxtentacion listener like she loves "I don't even speak Spanish lol" in this au but when she's emo over cait, bring out the sad! and shit like that 😭
- her ass would be on the ground staring at the ceiling, sad! blasting, and her roommate would be like SHUT THAT SHIT DOWN!!!!!
- avid marvel rivals player, loves luna snow no questions.
- don't ask why she texts like that she js does 😔
- she goes "this is for you" before scoring in a game and trips while running and falls on her face instead😭
- she is nawt NAWT!! a womanizer(?) fuckgirl(is that the female equivalent?????) idgaf what ppl say, sure she flirts occasionally but she's super loyal if she's in a rs, she's an awesome gf !!! we love vi in this household!!!!
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jinx. + childhood bsfs 2 lovers
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- matching pfps & bios on tiktok and insta I'm telling u. it'd be smth like "sniper, sniper, sniper" then "wifey, wifey, wifey"
- random hc cs yay, vi probably accidentally killed her pet hamster when they were kids and you had to comfort her cs her ass was crying for HOURRSSSS. there was a funeral for it with a tiny casket. (it died cs of the microwave beeping when vi's instant noodles were done)
- one of those ppl who gets high grades without trying, don't ask her grade unless you wanna feel hurt cs she js says "98" while being hungover.
- her music taste is so all over the place but I'm so certain she sticks to loud music!! she gets sleepy if it's calm😭
- engineering major no doubt abt it
- doesn't know how to cook but not cs she can't, it's bcs she doesn't want to
- she probably asked you out in a cutesy way like imagine after ur bday you're watching the stars tg and she's like staring at you w hearts in her eyes and she js says "I love you" and you're like "awww I love you too!!" cs ur bsfs, but she then repeats it "no like I LOVE you" and ur like woah.. then u start to makeout or whatever w stars in the bg, end scene!!
- genuinely the best gift giver ever, everything's homemade and made w love 🙏🙏 i lauv her sm😔😔
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caitlyn. + academic rivals (+ forced proximity)
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first pic isn't rlly connected to the rest, js to show their rs
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- after the project you two actually got alot closer, you could even say FRIENDS 🤯, there is still competition but it isn't like as bad as before, it's more so "Haha, I got higher." "wtvvv 🙄 I'll buy u ice cream 😔"
- sevika was the prof btw, she wanted to fuck with u guys 🙏
- archer cait. that's all I gotta say. (also equestrian u can't tell me other wise)
- HEAR ME OUT! imagine she invites you to her archery training & during it ur like, "Can I try?" she says alright and then when you're holding the bow she goes behind you and starts fixing how ur holding it, then she wraps a hand around ur waist and brushes it off as "oh your posture was incorrect" when she lets go.
- moving on, I imagine her having a doll collection like don't ask why but she collects monster high dolls. (please ask her about every single doll, she'll proudly infodump)
- when u get closer to her she's alot less formal, its very cutie of her !!!
- has a fitness tiktok account and she drinks apple cider vinegar daily (NASTYYYY IDGAF IF ITS HEALTHY!!!!).
- modern au cait is like a cat in my head, idk she's js so cutie in it please give her love that's it😔
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sevika. + grumpy x sunshine (professor! sevika)
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- her students try to tease her when she smiles at your notes, she shuts them down so fast it's scary. her expression goes from 😊 to 🤨, then they stfu and go to their seat.
- only person who teases her and gets away with it is jinx I fear.
- you and sevika have a nightly routine of dancing together (she's so soft w u don't play w me.) her fave song to play is love by Keyshia Cole (ARGUFJWHFIWJ 😭😭😭😭😭)
- regular gym goer, she has an insta she barely posts on besides the occasional video of her hitting a new record while her students comment "omg MISS SEVIKA!!!!!" then she blocks them when she sees the notif.
- doesn't trust anyone to cut her hair besides you cs apparently you js do it better, her words, not mine! 🤷‍♀️
- one of those, mean to everyone besides you, types (minus isha and jinx cs those r FAM!)
- loves reading idk I js get that vibe from her, after a long day, she opens her kindle (that she got from you as a bday gift) and relaxes.
- first time her students saw you, they glanced at both of you like a million times before it registered you were together, cs how'd she end up with such a sweet cutie!!
- they ask her a billion questions and she's like "I don't talk about my personal life, end of story."
- she's trying to quit smoking for u trust 😞 it's js hard but she's getting there!!
- she loves u so dearly please never let go of her.😔😔
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sevikas part was too long I'm sorry 😭 ...there were gonna be a couple NSFW hcs for her but 5 minutes after I wrote them I got food poisoning so I was like "I'll die if I post them."😔😔 anws hope u liked these
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forchosangwoo · 2 months ago
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Please please please please pleaseeeee I need Gi Hun so badddd please write literally anything about him X f!reader pleaseeee (preferably smut, but it could be fluff and/or both)
— typa guy ☆ seong gihun headcannons
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paring(s) : seong gihun x f!reader warnings : mdni, nsfw notes : thank you for requesting!! xx headcannons again because im not as familiar with gihun sorry TT hope you like it!! more coming tomorrow..? (hopefully)
SFW . . . !
gihun is the type of guy who would be scared to leave you by yourself. he'd be super protective over you, even over small things like who crosses the road first and who walks on which side of the sidewalk.
gihun is the type of guy who wishes he could give you the world. even when he couldn't support you financially, he would make up for it in another ways. he'd make diy presents and cook you dinner to express his love for you.
gihun is the type of guy to melt into your arms. he loves you so much that he could probably cry at the sight of you, as if he's overwhelmed by how much he adores you. he'd enjoy being both the small and bigger spoon when cuddling.
gihun is the type of guy who would want to always make you laugh or smile. he'd make corny jokes and shower you with compliments because when you're happy, he's also happy.
gihun is the type of guy to flex about you to his friends. he'd tell his friends about everything he loves about you to his friends with a huge smile on his face. he'd be so proud to call you his girlfriend or wife.
gihun is the type of guy to wonder how he got so lucky to have you as his partner. he'd constantly be reminding you how much he loves you and how happy he is to call you his.
gihun is the type of guy to be the best at comforting you, even though he doesn't feel like he does. he's the type to feel insecure and worry that he can't comfort you well enough, however that's simply not true.
gihun is the type of guy who would quit his gambling and smoking addiction just for you. of course his daughter would be apart of the reason, but you were what kept him going. imagining your face mixed with disappointment and sadness was enough to make him quit.
NSFW . . . !
gihun is the type of guy who would give you the best head of your life. he'd be so good at eating you out, every part of you would be begging for more.
gihun is the type of guy to constantly make sure you're okay and not hurt. he'd always listen to what you want and make sure you consent to everything he wants to do. he'd take your comfort first.
gihun is the type of guy who would fuck you like it's your last night together (especially after the games). he'd accidentally hold you maybe a bit too hard, as if you would disappear if he let go. his movements and touch would be filled with more love than lust.
gihun is the type of guy who can be both a dom and sub. as long as he's with you, he doesn't mind.
gihun is the type of guy who'd, never without fail, give you the best aftercare. he'd clean you and everything else up, making sure all of your needs are met. you'd fall asleep together as he clings to you as if his life depends on it.
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halfgirl-halfdolll · 3 months ago
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Self-indulgent again, also very much a vent. For the girlies who don't wanna be moms, not even in fictional settings, who kinda need some representation. Tw: angst with (almost) no comfort and self-deprecation.
You don't want kids.
You have nothing against them, really. You even like most children, think they're cute and all, but it's just not for you. You have never liked baby dolls, nor have you ever dreamed of motherhood; never had that tug of maternal instinct that most women your age felt.
And for a long time, you felt wrong. It was yet another broken part of you that you couldn't possibly fix, and that alienated you from your peers. You still feel wrong. An annoying, loud part of you still thinks you're broken, but what can you do?
You scroll through your instagram feed, seeing post after post of old classmates either with a big, round belly or with a little bundle in the arms, all bright smiles and hands entertwined and hugs.
And you think maybe you ARE doing things wrong. Maybe you were supposed to do that too. Try to conform to what everyone apparently thinks you should do, push through and endure something you know you weren't built for – maybe it'd fill the hole inside your gut, who knows?
Then you hear a baby cry – a soldier's wife was visiting with their kid – and you lose your breath, quickly approaching a meltdown as you feel your hackles raise despite how much you think it's wrong to feel this way.
You lock yourself into the nearest room.
Truly, you don't mind children. In fact, you respect them so much you know they deserve someone who has maternal instincts, and you know that you're not that someone. Not when you fucking derail at the sound of a kid crying.
"What's wrong, love?" Your eyes focus and you finally realize that you had entered Price's office without realizing. Probably your subconscious seeking the comfort of his presence.
"... Nothing." You lie, breathing deeply and waddling your way to one of his couches. The other men observe your movements with the some focus of a scientist finding a jumpy animal in the wild. Simon gets up to give you his seat on the couch.
"Yer pale as a sheet, lass. What happened? Saw a bug on yer way here?" Soap says playfully, as he scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and anchoring you back to reality.
You huff out a sad, tired laugh and shake your head. You feel the familiar pressure build up behind your eyes and your throat constricts, but you close your eyes and keep breathing deeply, willing the tears away.
A few moments pass of you trying to keep your emotions at bay while the men silently watch you, patiently waiting for you to open up in your terms.
"Do you think I'm broken?" You finally whisper and Ghost is kneeling right beside your seat in the blink of an eye, a strong hand squeezing your knee.
"Why would we ever think that, love?" Kyle asks as he sits on the ground and swiftly takes off your shoes, massaging your feet.
You clear your throat, trying to ground yourself through the feeling of Soap, Ghost and Gaz touching you, all while Price stands to the side. The comforting woodsy scent of their colognes envelops you like a cocoon, but it doesn't stop you from thinking.
It is during moments like this that you can feel your heart breaking – remembering how much you ended up loving them and how much you don't deserve them at the same time.
Your mind flashes back to late nights at some hole-in-the-wall bar, all four of them in different stages of drunkenness, talking about distant dreams they have – a family. Kids running through the house. You'd usually smile and keep quiet, knowing you were drunk as well; at the danger of making some self-deprecating comment you were sure they wouldn't appreciate.
It's good, how things have to be nipped at the bud, you think. It's best to have your fantasies ruined than indulge in them and then hurt yourself later on.
You look at Johnny, a sorrowful smile on your face as he raised his eyebrows in concern. He'll be a great father, you're sure of it. All of them will. It's just sad that you will never be the one to fulfill their fatherhood dreams. You can't disrespect their dreams out of selfishness. You can't disrespect a child just because you were too greedy to breath the same air as those men.
Your breathing slows down, emptiness burrowing its roots deep inside the painful muscles of your heart and your gut.
If you're going to be miserable either way, you'd always choose the option in which you would never drag any of them down with you.
"Forget I said anything." You squeeze Simon's hand, still firmly clutching your thigh. "I'm just having a bad day. I'll feel better soon."
You lean forward, gently removing Kyle's hands from your feet, and put your shoes back on. You get up, still feeling like there's a scream stuck in your throat – something fierce inside of you that begs to be loved without needing to create life; something desperate, that wonders if anyone would want to stay with you without a child to tie them down.
Oh god, are you going to die alone?
You clear your throat as you get up before images of the 141 with other women begin flooding your mind. That would have to wait till nighttime. You could cry freely then.
You force a tight-lipped smile and nod your head at Price. He subtly narrows his eyes.
"Sorry I barged through your door with my nonsense, Captain. I'll be taking my leave now."
Price crosses his arms and watches you leave, steps slow and deliberate as if you were hanging by the thinnest thread. He's very aware of the eyes of his men boring through his head, egging him on to do something, say something. Isn't he the Captain, after all?
"Love." Price calls out for you as you open the door. You look at him with watery eyes and reddened lips. No matter how much you tried to hide how awful you felt, you always wore your emotions on your expressions.
"You're not broken." He murmurs and your eyebrows twitch. "No matter what hurts you. We would never think you're broken."
You bite your tongue, holding back any bitter protest of his words. Instead, you smile.
"Thanks, Cap. I do hope so." You say as you step outside and close the door before any of them could try to retort. You can't discuss anything right now. Not when your mind is yelling silently, desperately begging for acceptance of you as you are.
Most times, you just hate yourself too much and too loudly to be able to notice how they would never care about the choices you have made for yourself and your life, as long as you could stay inside their arms; as long as you could be their girl.
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prismkith · 3 months ago
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can I request some headcanons of the arcane men reacting to their S/O coming back to them after going missing after a fight and just pure comfort on both sides
Please ans thank you
yess! def was much more comfort received by reader but that's just my own issues and emotions guiding the writing process for this T-T
Arcane men after their S/O disappears after a fight
pairings: jayce, viktor, ekko
genre: fluff, hurt comfort
Jayce: 
Genuinely feels so horrible the second you leave.
He didn't mean to snap. He is just so stressed with the council and Hextech.
Literally unable to function when he thinks you're mad at him, so when he also couldn't find you anywhere for three days he damn near had a breakdown
When you finally came back he would not stop apologizing for WEEKS
Was all over you, giving you gifts and so much affection
Brought you flowers every morning for two weeks after
“Baby, I am so sorry. Truly I feel horrible,- I was stressed and overwhelmed and I snapped when I shouldn't have. I love you so much, I never want to see you walk out like that ever again.”
______________________________________________
Viktor: 
Not the best with his emotions, but he knows when he fucked up
When you disappeared afterward and he didn't find you in your apartment, he worried but he knew to give you the space you needed
Instead of apologizing in person, he left a handwritten letter on your kitchen counter
When you showed up in his lab days later, the letter in your hand, he didn't say anything.
Just opened his arms and let you crawl into his lap, holding you close with one arm wrapped firmly around your waist, the other petting your hair.
“I know, darling. I'm so sorry. Let's not fight again, yes, dear?”
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Ekko: 
He's stubborn as shit, so when you stormed out of his room and slammed the door, he silently seethed and kicked the chair at his desk before angrily going back to whatever he was working on
Didn't mind that you didn't come around for the next few days, he also needed space to think things over. 
He was surprised at how good you were at avoiding him when you wanted to, though. 
Eventually, the anger wore off and he was left feeling guilty about the fight, and sad you weren't around him anymore
Not the best with words, so he definitely struggled to apologize, but he made up for his struggle to verbally express his feelings by kissing you all over and leaving marks on your neck afterward. 
“Look I, uhm, I'm sorry. I was being shitty, I shouldn't have said those things, and I'm sorry you felt the need to avoid me for so long too.” 
__________________________________________________
A/N: Like I said, almost extremely comfort on their end but that's partly due to me slightly misreading the prompt and also due to my own emotions lol
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sophiethewitch1 · 1 year ago
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What We Want - Chpt. 6 - Round Two. Fight!
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In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
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Damn. Your indulgent TV stalking of the Wayne’s really doesn’t hit the same once you technically knew them. And you were hiding inside one of their bedrooms, inside one of their clothes, using their TV subscription. It just didn’t feel right. Morally, of course, but that wasn’t what you were talking about. No, you were just pissy your favourite pastime was basically ruined. You shovel another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream into your mouth, glaring through tired eyes at the screen.
There’s an up-close shot of Dick Grayson’s abs. The presenter ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ over his physical form, and you have to agree. You wish you had abs like that. Unfortunately, you did respond to most unwanted experiences with stress eating. As always with these celebrity figures, you can’t really tell if you want to be Dick or be with Dick. Your butt is nowhere near the level his is at.
While you hadn’t really set out today looking for shirtless pictures of the Waynes, it wasn’t like you were going to say no to them. So, when the gossip channel had switched from the reactions of the Waynes to last night’s fiasco to… this… you’d just kept watching.
You wonder if you should stop doing this. It’s definitely kind of creepy, and now you’d technically once been his… step-sister. What a mind fuck. You’ve been crushing on these dudes for a while, and now they were your ex-step siblings. This was like the start of a bad porno, but you knew you were not that lucky. And it wasn’t like you were going to start thinking of him as a brother any time soon. You hadn’t even met the guy. No, he was still firmly in the ‘celebrity crush’ section of your mind. Pretty and untouchable. The way things are supposed to be.
Which was also bad because you would probably have to meet and interact with him at some point. Probably in the near future. God knows you’d absolutely humiliated yourself in front of the fucking Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne,. Twice, in fact. You didn’t even want to think about the display you’d shown for Bruce Wayne or Damian Wayne.
You didn’t really know what to do with your slightly obsessive crushes. And you could see it definitely being a problem in the near future.
…You decide that what you do in your private time is absolutely nobody but your business, and keep watching. It’s a mix of bitter spite and genuine mental breakdown levels of desperation that leads you to that decision. You feel like you’re a child with their toy being taken away, and it’s making you mad. And sad too. Even if you shouldn’t do this anymore, you still want to keep the habit. You’d mentioned before your creature comforts were one of the few things that kept you going. And while you were mostly very good at not being the jealous, heinous creature you really are, you knew you wouldn’t be giving this up.
They’d have to tear your gossip channels from your cold dead palms. You weren’t giving them up, not without a fight at least. Unfortunately for you, the universe seemed determined to wrestle away literally everything you loved.
Guilt’s for tomorrow. Today is for ice cream and purposefully ignoring everything. Speaking of which, you can not remember the last time you had a good Ben & Jerry’s. They were so expensive these days, as all groceries were. You simply couldn’t afford it. The Waynes, of course, had multiple tubs in multiple different options. Alfred had seemed delighted that you’d taken the ice cream, for which reasons you could not perceive.
Oh, yeah! His name was Alfred. Very butler-y. You’d remember it this time, he was a very nice man. And he called you ‘young miss’ which earned him points. He also didn’t seem to hate you on sight or treat you like a two-headed freak, like some of the other people in this household. Not naming names. Yeah, fuck that noise, Damian Wayne obviously has issues and it’s much less attractive in real life.
The woman drones on, and your eyes flick to your phone. Yup, she’s still yapping. It’s not like you don’t appreciate Dick’s abs or anything, it’s just that you think she might’ve been talking about this one specific photo for over half an hour now. Lady should get a hobby. Wait, wait, this is her job. Maybe you should start a podcast where you rant about the Wayne’s exercise regimes. It seems to be quite a lucrative field.
You shriek when the door slams open, nearly tumbling backwards off the bed. Hands manage to grip the bedcovers before you tip over, not making a complete fool of yourself. As it goes, you lose your spoon to the carpet. Bits of cookie dough spread over the floor in a divine sacrifice. And you lose your sanity to the man standing in the doorway. To be fair, he looks just as confused as you feel.
You blink at the physically perfect form of Dick Grayson and then turn your head to the TV to look at the other physically perfect form of Dick Grayson.
…You really wish you had a good explanation for this.
He mutters out your name, lips parted. Dick Grayson seems absolutely shocked to find you here. His eyes flick around the room and eventually land on the TV. Said baby blues widen to the size of saucers when the reporter makes a really, really unnecessary comment.
“And in news that broke the hearts of both ladies and gentlemen everywhere in Bludhaven, Dick Grayson has announced he will be returning to Gotham to assist his family in this difficult time. My cousin in the Blud is probably crying right now. There’s no ass out there quite like his, and there’s no replacement for Bludhaven’s favourite young rich bachelor,” she winks at the camera, and then the shot of his toned stomach phases forward to take up the entire screen.
Well, there’s a lot to say about that. First of all, fuck. Second of all, shit. Third of all, she really couldn’t have said that part about Dick coming back to Gotham sooner? Perchance, before you’d found yourself in this situation?
You said you weren’t that lucky, you meant it.
“But still, ain’t that lucky for us Gothamites? I myself have spent a lot of time on Dick’s Tiktok and Instagram, and his acrobatic videos have been used in a lot of my personal-”
You snatch the remote from the sheets and pause it right there. The silence is tense. You wait for him to say something, but he just stares at you. Completely stunned, mouth-catching flies. You want to pull the covers up and hide under them, but you don’t think that’d make him leave.
“I couldn’t find my room,” you finally manage to say. It’s the worst excuse you’ve ever heard, sounds like a complete lie. And yet, unfortunately, it is the truth.
Dick’s eyes drift to the TV, which you still haven’t unpaused. You can’t tell if it would be worth it, just to get rid of his golden brown abs staring at you judgementally, even if you’d have to deal with the extra embarrassment of the dialogue over them. Maybe if you muted the TV? It wouldn’t make up for the insult of his paparazzi photos on a widescreen.
It takes you even longer to come up with an excuse for… that.
“I was checking the news about last night,” you continue, the panic in you rising like a tea kettle left on the stove for too long. You might start shrieking like one too.
You don’t think he believes you. He looks down at the Beatles shirt you’re wearing. You know what he’s going to say before he does, but you still dread it.
“You’re wearing my clothes,” he mutters, his voice awed.
You want to say, ‘Nooo! No, no, no! Don’t do this to me, damn it! Not anymore! No more, please! It’s enough, enough suffering! This is genuinely ridiculous, damn you!’ but instead you reply with a shaky, “…Didn’t have any of mine.”
Also, you’ve been huffing Eau de Dick Grayson? That’s definitely in character for you. You want to beat your own head in with a stick.
“And I couldn’t find my room, and uh, thought this one wasn’t being used,” you continue, daring a glance back at him. He still looks completely stumped.
“It wasn’t,” he answers, but it sounds like he’s a thousand miles away.
You know, Dick Grayson was supposed to be a lot more charming than this. You’re almost proud you managed to stun the man into near speechlessness. Almost, almost. Almost not going to kill yourself once he leaves.
If he leaves. He doesn’t look like he’s getting up. You eye the gap between you and the door. Your animal brain is telling you to just run for it. But Dick has Olympic level athletics, and you don’t doubt he could catch you if you ran. Would he try though? That’s the deciding factor here.
He doesn’t seem like he’s actually going to fucking do anything though. He just keeps staring, like if he looks for long enough, it’ll all start to make sense. Which, you wish.
“Do you know where my room is? I couldn’t… remember…”
He nods, instead staring at his own abs on the TV.
“Can you take me to my room?”
He nods again. Still doesn’t look back at you.
“…Mr. Grayson?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. ‘You’ wouldn’t have used his last name, even though you might’ve. ‘You’ had been a casual person, as far as you could tell. That was the kindest way you could say it, at least.
His head snaps to you. He somehow looks more confused. You wonder if you should pinch him or something, god knows you’ve done your fair share of pinching yourself recently.
“Yes, right, sorry. Let’s… go,” he gives you a cheery smile, shaking his head, but it seems quite strained. You’re probably matching. This is the most humiliating moment of your life, and of course, it’s with the most beautiful man on earth right beside you.
A break. You want a break.
The two of you quietly shuffle out of the room, and when he guides you forward, you follow him obediently. Your head naturally bows, shame making it hard to look at him. You stare at the wooden floors as you walk. Watching it shine in the morning light that filters through the windows.
Eventually, he comes to a stop in front of a door that has obviously been avoided. Though it’s as clean as every other inch of this house, there are no marks in the rug from the door opening and closing. And even then, it seems… well, it sounds silly, but the door seems sad to you. Too many things seem sad to you these days.
Your thoughts must show on your face because Dick clears his throat and gives you a worried look. Is it rude to say you’re sick of those sorts of looks? That they just make you feel sick and burdened these days? It’s not like you could bring your family back from the dead, or convince your cheating boyfriend to not be a piece of shit. It was out of your hands.
“…Are you alright?” he asks you, blue eyes sincere. You tilt your head to the side.
“No?” you say, but it sounds more like a question. No, you are not alright. Yes, you will be okay. It’s the only option. It’s one of your rules. You have to be okay. You just have to.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You almost laugh.
“No,” this time your voice is firm, confident. Dick seems like he’s going to push it, but something in your eyes makes him stop. You give him a forced smile and say goodbye, closing the door gently in his face. Once you do, you crouch down and once again, press your face to your knees. Then you press your hands to your mouth and let out a scream that had been bubbling up for a while. After that, you feel you can live with the humiliation that is your existence without jumping out the three-story-height window.
You stand up, turning to the room. The first thing you notice about it is that there’s dust in here. Same as Dick’s old room. Now that you think about it, Alfred doesn’t seem the type who’d randomly leave certain rooms uncleaned, so it must be something he does out of respect for the tenants of Wayne Manor. Or maybe the old you requested it? God knows.
Sitting down on the old bed, your eyes rove around the room. It’s well decorated, as the rest of the manor is, but you can’t see anything that would make it your room. There’s none of the novels you’d collected from the used books store, no dorky little items you impulse bought, no pictures of your family. The apartment hadn’t had those either.
‘You’- she- seemed like a ghost to you. While you’d often felt like you’d barely been alive, simply going through the motions, this girl seemed like she hadn’t even been conscious half the time she was doing it. It made your stomach swim, your face pulls taught.
While you’d had few things holding you afloat, it’d been enough to keep you alive. Molly, your co-workers, the need to work so as to not starve to death. She hadn’t had anything like that. No liferaft. You’d been sputtering and gasping your way through life, and she’d been drowning. Maybe already dead, at the bottom of the sea, hair tangling with the seaweed.
This room feels like a coffin, and this manor like a cemetery. It makes you physically sick.
Showing off your fickle-mindedness, you realise that despite this being the Wayne manor filled with all your idols, you actually don’t want to fucking be here. You need space to clear your head, and the creaking floorboards that echo down the creepy hallways just don’t offer that. The atmosphere at your too-modern, too-minimalist apartment is leagues better than the atmosphere at this gorgeous old house which you’d usually love spending hours getting lost in.
Usually. Unfortunately, this place was more suffocating than the workplace when you knew you were about to get fired again. And you weren’t getting paid to stay here, so why the fuck would you?
Once you realise you’ve decided to run, you’re quick to pack up your shit. There’s not much in the room you need. A pair of sneakers, because you would rather die than put those heels on again. And you’ll grab some shirts because they’re comfy and remind you of home. Hopefully, it’ll make everything… grate… a little less. All of this is thrown in an old ratty backpack, which is then tossed over your shoulder. Shoes slipped on, and tapped against the floor so they’re on comfortably. And then you’re ready. Ready as you’ll ever be. With one hand on your phone, you take a peek outside the door. Coast is clear.
You press call for ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’. Jeanine picks up on the third ring.
“Hello, Jeanine Ryans here,” she says, her voice all business.
“Jeanine, I need an evac, stat,” you whisper to her, creeping down the hallway of the manor. The floor is unbelievably creeky, so it’s pretty fucking difficult to be stealthy about it.
“…What?”
“Get me out of this fucking manor, please,” you beg, now going down the stairs. Almost out, almost out.
“Right, on it. I’ll have a car outside in ten minutes if that’s alright?” Jeanine replies, immediately on the case. It almost makes you cry. You know she’s being paid for this, and very desperate for the job for some reason, but it’s still a hail mary that you are so grateful for.
“Thank you, thank you so much,” you say, turning a corner and-
Oh, fuck. Damian Wayne glares down at you, green eyes cataloguing every single guilty piece of you in existence. He sees your hand tighten around your backpack, hears Jeanine telling you not to worry through your phone, and probably notices the way your eyes desperately flicker behind him to the door. To your goal, to the exit to this labyrinth.
You can practically hear the wind blowing, see the tumbleweed drift by.
And then, he moves past you, twisting his body so no part of it touches you. There’s a moment where your brain freezes, something spicy smelling (cinnamon, maybe?) flowing past you, and by the time you turn around, he’s gone. Your deer-in-headlights tensed-shoulders look falls, leaving you confused in the foyer. He didn’t even say a word to you. You felt like you just got passed over by a boss from a Dark Souls game.
…Well, you’ll take the wins where you can find them! Quickly, you hurry out the front door, skittering down the steps like some sort of rat. It’s a long walk to the gates, and you don’t really know how to open them to let the car in, so you decide to take your time and enjoy the walk. The early morning dew apon the clean-cut blades of grass glint and sparkle, the gravel on the road crunches under your technically-not-stolen sneakers, and even if it’s a miserable life, it’s a pretty day. From the hill the manor lives upon, you can see Gotham’s tall skyline, cloaked in its characteristic fog.
Eventually, you find yourself in front of the gate, where you can see Jeanine waiting with a black car on the otherside. There’s a big green button next to the side gate, which you press, and it clicks open. There’s a moment where your neck tingles, and you glance up at the camera pointed down at you. The red flickering light beside it holds your attention. You can see your bedraggled reflection in its lense.
Shaking your head, you move on, greeting Jeanine. She gives you a quick bow of the head and opens the door for you. You hike the bag over your shoulder, give the Wayne manor one final, lingering look and then you step into the car. Jeanine starts speaking to you about some future appointments you have, and you’re too tired to understand a word of what she says. She realises you’re not processing anything she says, and hands you a pair of headphones with a wire adapter.
You could kiss her right then and there. You don’t because that’d be weird, but you definitely think about it. Headphones on, you watch the rolling hills and luxurious manors turn into highways and honking traffic, to finally the upside part of town which was now apparently where you lived.
Eventually you find yourself being delivered in front of your swanky new apartment. With a passing goodbye, Jeanine tells you that she’ll be busy for the rest fo the day so if you need anything to call the number on the card she hands you. You tuck it in your pocket, certain you’ll lose it like every other business card you’ve ever been handed.
The elevator ride up to your room is contemplative. The music is boring, your reflection is bedraggled and tired, and the gentle feeling of gravity under your feet tugs at you. You rock slightly when you finally reach your floor. The doors open, but you don’t make any move to leave. They shut again, and you’re left staring daggers at your mirrored self.
You’d woken up, still here. It wasn’t a dream. It was reality. And more than that, it seemed more and more like you’d be staying in this reality. You didn’t think you could go home. Sure you were rich but… but your home. Your few things you’d managed to save. Your meagre group of friends and your hard-sought job. It made you nauseous. Where had you lost it all? Why were you here now? Why did you keep having to lose everything?
You manage to snap yourself out of it before someone else calls the elevator. Striding out of the space, you look to the right where you remember your apartment coming from. It’s not hard to find the unit, as there are only three on the entire floor. Rich people.
The door closes with a satisfying thud behind you, and you nearly melt with exhaustion.
This apartment is the ninth circle of hell for you. Scrambling around on your knees, you’re desperate to find the damn phone that won’t stop ringing. You can’t understand where the sound is coming from.
Under your bed? You shine your other’s phone’s light under it. Nope. Behind the dresser? Nada. You search inside the drawers and then peek inside the fancy lamp. Absolutely nothing. You’re ready to tear your hair out when you spot something… odd.
There’s… You think there’s something stuck in your floorboards. You dig at the space with your fingernails and the piece of wood pops open. Inside is… a cardboard box. An awfully familiar cardboard box, actually. The sight of your Mum’s old keepsake box makes you cry out with joy, lifting it from its little enclave. You’d lost a lot in the past few days but at least the old you knew how to keep your family’s stuff safe.
This apartment looks brand new. And apparently the past you dug into it to hide her stuff. You can’t really judge, you have a hidey-hole back at your apartment. It was a brick that had already been loose in the wall, so it didn’t feel quite as criminal as this.
The ringing is coming from inside the box. When you pull the lid up, you find a keepsake box a little different from yours. While yours only ever had your family’s old passports and photo albums, this one had a sleek phone sitting on top of all the mementos. It’s an exact copy of the phone on your bed- or well, it would be, if you hadn’t dropped it.
Two phones? This bitch was greedy. And so are you, eagerly sweeping the expensive item into your gremlin hands. Your thieving high is instantly quashed when you see who’s calling.
Of all fucking… George.
You roll your eyes before hanging up, tossing the phone to the side as you start rifling through the old keepsake box. You flip through family photo albums and lovingly cradle old stuffies. The phone buzzes. You ignore it. You find one of your mother’s old necklaces, and because you’re desperate for anything that can ground you, slip it over your head. The cool heart locket rests just under your collarbone, and you clutch it with one hand as you keep exploring. The phone keeps buzzing. It’s only almost half an hour later when you realise something about this is strange.
Why is George… not blocked? You glance down at the vibrating object like it’s radioactive, a despairing frown pulling at your face. Cautiously, you pick it up, making sure not to open the notifications lest it tell George you read any of his messages.
He’s… apologising for not being there for your birthday. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. And it’s not even a proper apology, it’s one of those ‘I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings’ bullcrap. He keeps spamming you, and eventually, you realise that he’s not going to just stop.
You decide to nip this in the bud quickly because even remembering his cheating face makes you feel like throwing up.
‘You’: Why are you contacting me?
‘George <3’: Seriously? Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t there yesterday. I was busy, you know that.
Stupidly, you reply:
‘You’: ‘No, seriously, why are you contacting me? I’m done with you.’
You wonder how you ever loved this jackass. Even if he was obviously more of a jackass here, than where you’d come from. He was just better at pretending there. You keep scrolling, ignoring the new texts that pop up. Your stomach sours at the number of texts he himself had ignored, of the amount of ‘sorry baby, can’t come tonight’, the begging, the pleading.
No, he wasn’t worse at pretending. He just didn’t care.
You wonder if this could have been you, further along down the line. Abuse happens slowly, right? Like a frog in a pot. You’d have forgiven and forgotten, written away his worse behaviours till you couldn’t anymore. Till you couldn’t leave, till you were trapped.
You think George Lancaster would’ve tried to. He would’ve isolated you from everyone you had left if he hadn’t screwed up and got caught.
You realise now there were a lot of red flags in your relationship with George. Molly always hated him and he hated her. He’d constantly complain about how much time you spent with her, spamming you with texts when you went out.
You were only… only two days since you’d actually broken up with him. Which was sort of crazy to think about. You feel like you’ve lived eons since then. Like that one traumatic incident aged you thirty years. Anyway, you still hadn’t processed the whole George thing. You’d been sort of busy fighting for your life.
‘George’: I’m here, can you at least open the door so we can talk face to face?
Freeze. A knock sounds, and your head snaps up to the front door. You don’t move. You just wish it away. The knocking only gets louder and louder.
You feel like a dumb girl in a horror movie as you walk towards the door, unlocking it and creaking the knob open. George Lancaster stands on the other side, and before you can slam it in his face, he grabs you by the arm and yanks you out of the door. And then he’s pulling you to the elevator, even as you try and get your bearings, get yourself away from him.
“You can’t just ignore me like this,” George says, pissed off to high hell, “We’re going to miss the reservation I booked specifically for you. I told you it was happening today and-”
There’s white noise between your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Told you? It wasn’t in any of the texts. He’s still talking even as the elevator dings, even as he shoves you in a white sports car that’s half parked on the curb. Even as he drives his way through Gotham’s streets, he won’t fucking shut up.
Why are you letting this happen to you? Why aren't you fighting back, wrenching yourself from his grasp? He takes you into a restaurant, one so upscale that normally you wouldn’t be able to get in for months, and your head snaps from staring socialites to watching politicians to gawking celebrities. You have the eyes of the world on you right now, and they’re all watching George yell at you.
And you can’t find your voice.
It's like a scab you can't stop picking at. Like you think this is what you deserve or something. And it's not. You know it's not. And yet you follow obediently, chastised and embarrassed, as he pulls you through the restaurant. When he picks a table in the centre of the room, you don’t protest. When he chooses your meal for you, even though it’s not to your taste, you don’t protest.
Looking at George, scrolling lazily on his phone, your hands clench against the table. They’re sweating, shaking, nails digging into your palms.
You… you didn’t have to break up with him again, did you? You realised it earlier, but you didn’t- it didn’t really sink in. Your first breakup with George Lancaster was a miserable traumatic experience, and it had been in the solitary streets of Gotham’s Narrows. This one, this one would be seen by literally everyone.
Nauseous. You feel so damn nauseous, your mouth dry as you swallow down bile. This was ridiculous. You couldn’t stand seeing his face. Was he texting her right now? God, did she even know? You’d just stormed out that night, running from what you’d seen.
George had chased after you. Had he left her there? Your stomach churned at the idea. You had to hate her on principle but, well, you also had to sympathise with her. Contradictions, that was the average you. You didn’t want to help this random girl. Didn’t want to have to ever think of her again.
…Staring at George, a definitively awful person, you can’t do it. Can’t just leave her to it.
“I’m breaking up with you,” you say.
“What?” George replies, not even looking up from his phone.
“I’m breaking up with you!” you shout. It’s not even intentional, just a result of being pushed too far, of breaking too easily.
The restaurant goes quiet. Guess you’re up for another scandal then. Whatever, it wasn’t like you would’ve lasted much longer anyway. This was all too complicated for your recently traumatised mind to handle. And it was just too damn stupid to bother with anyway. All of this was fucking stupid.
You included.
Just pull the bandaid off, right? You could already see how this version of you had so many scandals to her name. You probably should start giving a shit. Or at least trying to. You don’t think you want to, though.
George puts his phone down face down on the tablecloth, giving you a calm look. That slightly pitying stare activates something in your brain you didn’t really know was there. It’s a type of rage you haven’t known since you were a kindergartner and one of the other girls said you couldn’t play princesses. Since your first service job where your manager felt you up. Just pure, petty, anger. The type of anger ready to burn the world down as long as it burns whoever pissed you off as well. He opens his mouth, probably to say something condescending, and your hand whips out and snatches his phone.
“Hey!” George says instead, his eyes widening.
You turn the phone back on. Hm, passcode. You flip it around and use facial recognition to open it. Despite the fact that George wears the most comically shocked expression, with saucer-wide eyes and a mouth open to catch flies, it unlocks. Nice.
“Hey! What are you doing?” George demands, reaching over the table for his phone.
You twist away from his reach. Password. You flip the phone, and despite George’s comically shocked expression, it still unlocks. He shouts again when it does, probably realising that you might be taking this seriously. That he might actually be in trouble. That his sugar mummy might not take too kindly to the numerous texts to other women on his phone.
…You really can’t believe you’re a sugar mummy. And for George of all people. What a horrendous waste of money, it’s fucking tragic.
He’s got the texts with someone known as ‘Pizza Hut’ pulled up, with some very flirtatious messages. You scroll up furiously, ducking under George as he gets up from the table and tries to get the phone. Still, backing up, the sight of a very poorly shot dick pic of George’s has you grimacing. Your focus on the picture, trying to decide whether his penis looked so unappealing before you’d learnt of his betrayal, has you distracted when one of the servers come around.
And, well, shirt, meet soup. Very, very hot soup. Everyone? Meet a screeching, klutzy moron.
George takes the chance to advance on you, snatching his phone from you. He doesn’t even seem to care you’re currently getting third-degree burns. The sting scorches through the thin fabric of your dress shirt, burning your skin. George grabs you again, his grip harsh enough this time you know it will bruise, and you can’t really say why you do what you do at that moment.
Your aunt used to have a chihuahua. It was an ugly, grumpy thing. She’d rescued it late into its life, and it had been treated poorly beforehand. It didn’t like to be touched at all and used to run from anyone who tried. And if you tried to touch it? Cornered it?
Well, of course, it started biting.
George’s howl is the most satisfying thing you’ve ever heard. His squeal of “bitch!” might be even more so. He slaps you away from him, and the sound echoes in the restaurant. Your face stings. When you land ass first in the puddle of still-too-hot soup, you wonder if you might try and bite him again. You don’t think you even broke the skin, considering you can’t taste blood. The other patrons stare on in genuine horror, like they’ve never seen a messy breakup before. One woman raises a hand to her mouth, and gasps-
You find yourself staring up at a furious George, one with a menace in his eyes you’ve never seen before. You wonder, idly, if he’s ever hit you before. Well, not you, but ‘you’. You realise now that he has the capacity for it, that he probably always did.
“What the fuck!?” he hisses, angry eyes darting from side to side, “Biting me?! In fucking public?! Have you lost it, you crazy bitch?! And you got my phone fucking soaked in soup!”
“Did you buy it?” you ask, wiping your mouth with your sleeve to get George’s dirty taste out of your mouth.
He blinks, confused, thrown off by your question, “Huh?”
“Did you buy that phone?” you repeat, your staring starting to turn into a furious glare.
You don’t think he did. Your George had never been able to afford those sorts of things, he’d been as broke as you were. Of course, you’d seen him lust over those items, but you’d always managed to convince him not to go into debt over silly things like sports cars and fancy phones. And even then, you’d been the one to buy him a PS5.
He looks down at the phone and back at you, and you can see his jaw tick.
“I bought it. That’s mine.”
“It was a gift. You’re going to be such a bitter bitch to take back everything you gave me? Gonna leave me out on the fucking street?” he says, spittle flying with angry words.
This was escalating fast. Maybe before you’d have been cowed by his words, but you were genuinely off your rocker by now and were very much willing to tango with this bastard. Like yes, he did terrify you, but so did everything else. You could handle this much at least. You weren’t ready to back down.
“And if I did? What then George? What could you even fucking do?” you throw back, voice rising to match his.
“It’s not your money either, it’s theirs, you little leech!” says the pot.
“Does it matter?” replies the kettle.
Pushing to your feet, you find George without another answer. He stands between you and the exit. With the plain murderous rage on his face, you think he’ll try to grab you again if you run past. He wouldn’t bite you back, but he might slap you or something. So instead, like any good coward does, you run straight to the girl’s bathroom. It hasn’t failed you yet, and you doubt it will today.
You shove into the bathroom, past a woman doing her makeup. Her head bobs up and down as she takes in your seemingly infamous face, and your stained shirt. You stride as far away from her as possible, darting into the last bathroom stall and sitting on the closed toilet lid. You pull your knees to your chest and hiss out a sound of frustration when that presses the sticky liquid against your chest and pants. Not your brightest idea, but you were sort of running on fumes right now.
The bathroom stall is extremely clean. One thing you were quickly realising about rich people is they didn’t have to suffer shitty public bathrooms. You didn’t think they deserved it. Like customer service jobs, and traffic, they built character.
What were you doing? Right, trying not to cry. You’re doing much better than yesterday. Still, sitting on top of the toilet’s closed lid, your phone pressed to your face, you wouldn’t say you’re doing ‘good’.
But because you knew George was too much of a pussy to ever enter the woman’s bathrooms, you refuse to move a single inch. You don’t want to go out there. At all. At all, at all. You’d tried to call Jeanine, but she hadn’t answered. Some P.A. she was. You still weren’t going to fire her. Then you remember that she told you she was going out later, and that she’d left a card with you. Digging through your pocket, you decide it’s finally time to die when you realise you lost the card somewhere along the line.
So, she wasn’t going to come save you as your knight in shining armour.
You can’t remember Molly’s number. Who did these days? That was your phone’s job. So you were left with… this. You were left with this. Four blocked numbers and a third had sent an automatic reply because he was driving. Alfred was probably busy. Weren’t butlers always very busy?
…Rich people weren’t often very busy. They had butlers and assistants to do all their chores. You unblock all four of the Waynes that you have on your phone.
The first thing you notice is the amount of texts between ‘you’ and Dick. Scrolling and scrolling, you find most of them are him checking up on you and one-word replies from the old you. He’s friendly and accepting, even when you respond in cruel and aggressive tones. The further back you scroll, the kinder your replies are. At one point it seems like the two of you had a good relationship.
You check the other chats. Tim’s message log is filled with coffee requests sent back and forth between you, Damian’s is completely empty, and Bruce’s has had no response from your phone in years. But eventually, you scroll back far enough that you find an actual conversation instead of just ‘Call Alfred’ repeated every few days.
‘You’: I miss them.
‘Bruce Wayne’: I know. I miss them too.
You press the back button, sighing. That felt like you’d seen something you shouldn’t have, like you’d peeked into someone’s diary. Which was unbelievably stupid. All of this is unbelievably stupid. You should just leave, you should just be brave. Two days ago you faced off against one of your worst fears, but today you couldn’t even handle George Lancaster.
You want someone to rescue you. You know no one will unless you ask. It makes you choke on your own self-disgust. This is the second time in one day. God, maybe you should just do it yourself. It’s not like you couldn’t pay for your own Uber.
And still, you find yourself clicking on a name and begging. Skin crawling, you type and retype the text probably a hundred times. You go from long apologies to begging to rants you never intended to send in the first place. Tap, tap, tap, and then you delete, delete, delete.
What you settle on is simple.
‘You’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx
Maybe a bit too simple. You cross your arms and tuck yourself in the good ol’ fetal position. You feel like you’ve spent half your time holding yourself like this the past three days.
‘Dick Grayson’: I’ll be there in five.
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MASTERLIST - NEXT
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tan1shere · 6 months ago
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Heyy I was wondering if you could do a fic with Ellie x reader when r is on her period. Ellie doesn’t know, but she’s really hormonal, moody, and lashes out at Ellie. Eventually Ellie connects the dots and is really sweet and understanding and R just breaks down in tears saying stuff like she’s a terrible gf etc. R is also in a lot of pain with cramps and just wants to sleep and Ellie is there for her there too. I love your writing!!
You're ok
Ellie Williams x female reader!
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A/n: hiii thank you 😊 I'm so glad you enjoy it, this one's just for you nonnie <3 hope you like it !!
Warnings: none really, fluffyness ! Moody reader ? -
Masterlist
Birds were chirping, the sun starting to shine in. You smiled to yourself, this was going to be a good day! Until your legs hit the floor. A wave of blood washes over your uterus. Fuck. No no- was all you could think. You groan, it was always so irregular. It was supposed to come next week. You flop back on the bed, dreading this day already. Curling back up into the sheets. Why today, you planned to do stuff, be productive. It frustrated you how your period could be. Just be normal for God sake.
"Morning baby, I made you some breakfast." You hear your girlfriends voice. You groan in pain, your cramps starting to kick in like crazy, as usual. "Not hungry." Her brows furrow. "Bu-" "I said I'm not hungry." You spit. Her brows furrow more, deciding to leave you alone at your sudden outburst. All you wanted to do was sleep and hope the day speeds up faster.
It infact didn't. The common headache starts, the cramps become more and more. You decided to get up to get some water, moody and annoyed. "You done with whatever this morning was?" "Shut up." You grumble. Exhausted, hair a mess. Her head tilts looking at you in thought. "What it up with you today." You don't reply just wanting to lay in your bed again. She hated seeing you this way. "Hello?" You then go back up the stairs to lay down.
She opens the door a few hours later grabbing a book from the bedside. Noticing you were asleep. She was trying to rack her brain what was bothering you so much, then it clicked. "Period." She whispered. Then her demeanor softens. She felt awful for not noticing. Ellie was smart she pieced it together, she got them too she knows. But she also understood how badly you got yours, especially after you missed last months.
Another hour passes and you're awake again, staring at the ceiling. Your body ached, but your mood certainly changed. You hated how your body made you treat people, your mind all over the place. You look at the clock to check the time. It was way later in the evening. You decided to get up and go see your girlfriend just wanting some comfort after today. But most importantly to apologize, for no real reason as Ellie would say. She was so understanding, always saying that there was no need to apologize. You walk down seeing her watching TV on the couch. "Ells?" You softly say.
Her head turns to look at you. "I'm sorry Ellie, I'm so sorry." - "Hey hey its fine. You're ok." She lifts the blanket. "Come here." And you do, getting under it with her. "Why didn't you tell me when you saw I didn't know yet?" You shrug lightly. "I dunno baby, I'm sorry I've been so awful and evil today." This makes her laugh. "My wicked little moody monster." Your eyes roll with a huge smile. "Youre so silly." Her hand comes in contact with your hair. "How bad have they been?" You sigh and that's enough for her to know that they were bad. "Everything aches." A sad look is present on her features. "I'm sorry angel.
Your body moves closer into her touch loving the warm feeling she gave you. Why couldn't you of just done this, this morning. Instead of lashing out. "Look at me baby." She then says pulling you out if your thoughts. "It's not your fault. It's ok, I understand now, please don't worry about this morning." She saw through you and your mind. You nodded. "We're only human bub." Her soft way made you snuggle into her more. She was truly the best.
"Will you let me take care of you now?" You nod gently. And this makes her smile stick. She loved taking care of you, it filled her with so much joy to be there for the person she loved. "Thank you for being so patient with me." You tell her. She gives you a kiss on the forehead. "I will forever be patient with you, I love you."
"I love you too."
For the rest of that night that's what she did, she made sure you ate. Had something warm on your stomach for the pesky cramps. Ran you a soothing warm bath, for the whole of your aching body. And the cuddliest cuddles to end of a horrible day.
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dismalflo · 23 days ago
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left behind
Sirius Black x reader who feels left behind when everyone else is in a relationship ✩ 1.6k words
cw: modern au, little bit of angst, little bit of fluff, hurt/comfort, reader has never been in a relationship, reader is a lil insecure
an: my fellow never been in a relationship people rise up also some amy march inspired dialogue for you all <3
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Usually nights like these would make you feel lighter after a long week. Crammed into a booth in your favourite pub, surrounded by all the people that mean the most to you. But tonight, a strange heaviness is settling in your stomach, a hole that keeps growing bigger the more you think about it.
And you can’t stop thinking about it. Looking around, everyone’s happily coupled off—James glued to Lily’s side, Remus and Regulus whispering to each other in a little bubble of bliss, Marlene and Dorcas teasing each other playfully across the table. You’re happy for them, truly, but there’s a bitter sting when you remember that they don’t go home to cold, empty flats. They have each other at the end of the day. It’s a strange longing, to want something so badly, to miss it even though you’ve never had it.
And of course there's Sirius, the only other single in the group, but he seems to be seeing different girls all the time and has never looked your way, so you really don't think it's comparable nor do you want to talk to him about it and risk being mocked. 
You’re snapped out of your thoughts when someone calls your name. You turn, catching Lily’s concerned gaze. A frown tugs at her lips.
“Are you alright? You seem a bit... stuck in your head.” You flush, embarrassed to be caught, relieved it’s only Lily who’s noticed. The air feels suffocating now, and you can barely breathe.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” you murmur, “I… I’ll be back in a minute.” Not being able to deal with the stuffy air anymore, you race out of the pub and into the alleyway next to it.
You should probably go home. You don’t want your mood to ruin the evening for everyone else. As you pull out your phone to send a text letting them know you’re leaving, the door of the pub slams open. Sirius, looking flustered, spots you and makes a beeline towards you.
“Hey, what's going on with you?” he asks, to the point straight away as is Sirius’ way.
“Nothing, I just think I’m gonna go home, I'm not feeling great.” You’re avoiding looking at him, eyes glued to the pebble you're kicking between your feet on the floor.
“Really?”, something in his voice gives away his suspicion, then, “You’re a horrible liar, Y/N.”
You cringe away from him, turning your body in an attempt to make sure he sees less of you. “I'm fine, Sirius, leave me alone.” your voice has taken on a sharper tone now, sadness has given way to frustration.
“You’re obviously not fine, and you're much too pretty to be stood out here upset by yourself.” There's a furrow in his brow, his face somewhere between confusion and concern, through the haze of your overwhelming emotions you see something else, something antagonising. 
You scoff, your lip trembling. “Stop making fun of me. You’re being mean.” You’re fighting against tears now, desperate not to break in front of him.
“What—what are you talking about?” His expression falters, clearly trying to understand.
“You’re mocking me, i'm upset and your fucking mocking me!” you've turned hysterical now but you can bring yourself to care, it feels good to let out some of these emotions that have just been piling on top of you.  
“Babe, I'm not I swear–” 
He’s interrupted by you flinging your hands up exasperated, “Yes you are! You're calling me pretty and pet names as if you would ever look my way, when I know you wouldn't. And it's… it's fine, no one ever has for very long but I feel like I've fallen behind and it's horrible and being around everyone tonight got to me, okay?! Because they all have something I might never even experience.” you're practically shouting at the boy standing with you now.
Sirius is quiet for a second, mulling over your words, trying to figure out what to say in response. The silence makes you break the staring contest you'd been having with the floor, looking up at Sirius, his expression is devastated, as if you'd struck a killing blow against him with your words. It makes you want to shrink down to nothing, embarrassed by that outburst. 
“That’s not– you’re not…” he pauses again, not sure what to say, “Is that really how you feel?”
You shrug, “That’s how it is, how it's always been.” 
“I don’t believe you, people definitely look your way, i just think you don't realise it”
You shake your head, the frustration bubbling up again. "I do realize it, Sirius. It’s just—no one really sticks around. They look, they flirt, they leave. It’s fine. I’m used to it."
Sirius steps closer, his posture softening. “That’s not... you shouldn’t be used to being treated like that, Y/N. You deserve more than that.” His eyes meet yours. It makes your heart squeeze, and you look away again, your stomach twisting in knots
“You don’t get it. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. Maybe it’s just too late for me to figure it out," you mutter, voice cracking just slightly.
Sirius seems to hesitate, his usual flippancy replaced with something quieter, more thoughtful. "You’re not too late. You’re not behind." He pauses. “We all do things at our own pace.”
You let out a shaky breath, and for the first time tonight, you actually meet his gaze. His dark eyes are soft, intense, as if he’s trying to reach something deeper inside of you that you’ve been hiding. You want to look away, but you can't. You’re stuck.
"I—I don’t know how to fix it," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I don’t want to be the only one left behind. It’s like I’m watching everyone else move on, and I’m stuck in this weird limbo where nothing changes, where I’m always just... alone."
Sirius doesn’t break eye contact, and for a moment is lost in his own head. Then, in the quietest voice he’s ever used, he speaks.
"Darling, you’re not alone."
The words hang in the air between you, heavy and full of something you can't quite place. You blink, unsure if you heard him correctly. "What?"
Sirius takes a step closer again, his gaze never leaving yours. "I mean it," he says softly. "You’re not alone. Not now, not ever. I think you’ve been so focused on what you don't have that you’ve missed the people who do care. I care."
"You’re just saying that," you mutter, though there’s no real conviction behind the words anymore. You want to believe him, but part of you is terrified of what that might mean. Terrified that you’ll open up only to be let down.
Sirius’ hand reaches out hesitantly, as if unsure whether to touch you or not. The air feels thick, charged.
"I’m not just saying it," he insists, his voice steady despite the vulnerability in his eyes. "I wouldn't. You're not invisible to me. I've noticed you for a long time.”
Your breath catches in your throat, and you take an involuntary step back. “But… you never— I mean, you’re always with other people. Girls who are… Well, not me.” Your voice wavers again. 
Sirius doesn’t look away this time. His gaze is laser-focused, intense. “That doesn’t mean anything. I’ve been an idiot, honestly." He takes another step toward you. "I’ve always been too caught up in other things, other people. And I—” He hesitates, seemingly choosing his words carefully, “I didn’t want to mess up the friendship we have. I didn’t want to fuck up something or risk it.”
Your heart races, the words he says sinking in but feeling almost impossible to believe. You swallow hard, trying to process everything. "But you never said anything... I mean, all those times I—" you stop yourself, shaking your head, trying to steady the whirlwind inside you. "I always thought it was me, you know? That maybe I was just... not enough."
Sirius flinches, as if your words had physically hurt him. His expression crumples, a mixture of regret and longing in his eyes. He steps closer, the distance between you both closing.
"I’m sorry for making you feel that way," he says quietly, his voice sincere, each word weighted with meaning. "The last thing I ever wanted to do was make you feel like you weren’t enough. You’re everything to me. More than I even knew how to admit to myself."
You look up at him, the vulnerability in his gaze catching you off guard. "But we’re friends," you whisper, unsure of what this shift means, of what it could become.
He nods, his hand slowly reaching for yours, fingers brushing against yours before closing the space. "I know. But maybe we could be something else. If that’s something you… y’know"
The world feels like it slows for a moment, and in the quiet that follows, everything you've been holding inside seems to rise to the surface. All those feelings you kept buried, the doubts, the fears, and the yearning—it's all there, raw and untamed.
You search his eyes, as if trying to see if this is real, if it’s truly what he wants. You take a deep breath, your pulse thrumming in your ears.
"And if I’m scared?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sirius gives you a soft, reassuring smile, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "I’ll be here. No matter what. We’ll figure it out together."
Slowly, you nod, the first step of what could be something entirely new—something thrilling—beginning.
"You’re sure?" you ask, a flicker of doubt still lingering, but less pronounced now.
"Positive." His voice is steady now, as steady as his hand around yours. "But only if you’re ready."
You take another breath. "I think I’m ready."
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let me know what you think of this! I love any feedback! <3
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yunjinstoy · 2 months ago
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˖ ࣪ ‹ missing hours 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡
cho hyunju x fem!reader.
c/w: smut, phone sex, hyunju before transition, dirty talking, sub!hyunju x powerbottom!reader, needy hyunju, mentions of dick, full porn, sugarmommy kinda?? reader, little mention of breeding, and others things, lowercase intentional. hyunju rose dialogue.
a/n: guy's it's my first time posting something so please give me constructive tips!
you've been with hyunju for almost 5 months, and it was wonderful. she was the sweetest girl you could ever asked for, caring, lovely, understandable, comforting..and a nice cooker, of course. she was the first girl to not care about your money, even tho she knew that you have good amount of it, she never asked, and whenever she did for some reasonable and no doubts reason, she was so embarrassing to ask you for money, but you didn't care.
if you could, you would buy everything in your power to make hyunju happy, happy wife happy life, as they say.
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some weeks ago, hyunju talked about how much she wanted to do the bottom surgery. it's not like it's anything new for her to talk about, she always did, she always showed how she wanted to be fully transitioned but she was also very afraid to do so. but since you guys got more comfortable and more intimate, she gained some confidence and desire to have surgery. it would be in thailand, she would say, because there's a lot of procedures well done there. so, the next day, you caught yourself searching for thailand travel flights and gender transition surgery clinics, and of course, you brought the best ones.
when you showed it to her, she almost cried of joy and expressed how much thankful she was for you by kissing your whole face (you loved it). but she also got feeling guilt because you spent money on her, but why wouldn't you? she deserves everything she wants. the girl was so happy but then reality touched her. you would not come with her since you had work to do that day, money doesn't come for nowhere, right?
she pouted while looking at you, sad that you would not be with her in such a beautiful and memorable moment in her life, and trust, you were so sad as she was, you wanted to go with her and give her all the love and comfort but you just... couldn't.
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it's been two days since hyunju arrived at thailand, on the 3rd day, the surgery would be done. it's was fucking difficult for her not being with you, even if it was only two days since she saw you, she missed you so much like she was not seeing you for weeks. she mumbled from one side to the other with longing, she missed your sweet face to her, your soft hearted words for her, your touch which was always hot, since you had warm skin. urrgh, she missed you and she needed you so much. some hours passed, and it's has already 11pm for her, the time where you guys would call each other before hyunju passing out in sleep, so it wouldn't be long before you called her. she was waiting anxiously, and finally, she heard the phone ringing.
"hello?" you say, amazed at how quickly she responded.
"hiii baby! how was your day? busy one?"
"not really, it was fine. and you? how you doing? nervous about tomorrow?" you asked, already knowing the answer. how badly you wished you were with her right now. and so did she, your voice and genuinely concerned tone made her feel safe and loved, and that only made her long for you even more.
"mhm...but it's gonna be just fine.. everything is going to be as it should and it won't take long until you're with me tomorrow after the operation, right?" you could sense her nervousness through her voice but as she spoke the rest, she became happier and more relaxed.
"yes, baby. i can and i'm so excited to see you..and to see our future place to live in." a smile appears on your face when you remember all the promises of living together in thailand.
"thank god...i've been missing you so much."
"aw really? i miss you too."
"no, i really miss you badly. i can't stand not having yours slightly touch."
you paused for some seconds, not responding to her. you always loved when your girlfriend was needy, just because it was something rare to happen because she was an expert on containing herself. so in this case, she was really missing you.
"i need you here, sleeping with me, killing me with love and kisses. i wanted you to touch me until i sleep... it's so difficult here without you."
she continues confessing this and that, and you could tell she was imagining everything she was saying out loud as you hear her pauses and heavy sighs. you didn't know what to do or say, should i let her continue or should i respond something? you thought repeatedly.
"i need you, i miss you. i-i wanted to enjoy the last night together while i have...you know.." her voice trembles a little bit but you couldn't decipher whether it was desire or nervousness. you gulp hard as you got what she meant. was she for real?
"w-what?" that was the only thing that escaped from your mouth. how pathetic.
"i wish you were playing with my co...cock..." what came out of her mouth sent you to heaven, the shy way she said such thing. and she was not helping neither since you could clearly hear her panting heavily. you were trying to putting the dots in order, was this really happening? does she want it? should i risk it? but as you were thinking hardly, hyunju spoke.
"please...say something, help me.. somehow."
okay, fuck it. it's your girlfriend and she's extremely needy for you, so why would you deny her with your head bubbling up right now?
"what are you wearing?"
"a blue pajama-type dress, no underwear."
nasty, you thought. even without you, she would be still that naughty. and in some sense, you could feel your blood popping up thinking about her being like this, all alone. without you taking care of her.
"you're so naughty, hyunju. i know you really want me to suck your cock and feel your gland beating in the back of my throat but no underwear isn't resolving nothing, baby, you know that, right?"
"i-i know...It's just to stay relaxed at night because i always end up thinking about you and then i get hard...and it hurts when i have something rubbing down there.."
"my baby thinking about me at night? about what? me bouncing on your big dick already dirty with cum of both of us?"
"f-fuck yes, i want that so bad.." it was hard for her to control her breath while speaking and you could tell right away.
"how bad?"
"so so so fucking bad, i need you to r-ride my cock so badly... it's throbbing and craving for your pu..ssy..feels so good when i'm inside you, you make me feel so fucking go-good..please please let me-"
"let you what?"
"let me touch myself while thinking about you swallowing my cock, please please pleas...se, i c-can't anymore..."
"turn the camera on and touch yourself."
and hyunju did. she placed her phone right in front of her so you could see exactly how her face looked like at the moment. she was with her cheeks extremely red, same as her lips which were also wet from the times she bit her lips to contain herself. she was wearing what she told she was, and it suited her so well. her cock was full out, hard, juicy, and throbbing with need. she waited some time for you to admire her, because she knew that you would. and then finally, she placed the palm of her hand on top of the cock that had been begging to be touched for some time now. hyunju started to masturbate herself and you swear that the view was way better than any work of art. her free hand was glued to her mouth, being bitten to contain the louder moans and pleasure that hyunju felt, but she failef miserably since you could perfectly hear every sound that came out of her mouth, her eyes closed tightly and her eyebrows that the furrowed and moved with every movement that hyunju made on her own cock.
"just like that, baby...imagine it's me there, imagine your hand is my pussy taking care of your desperate dick."
"lo-ve...i'm gonna...i-" the hand that surrounded her cock began to make much faster movements. you could see her dick twitching.
"cum just inside of me, hyun."
and then, her orgasm arrived. the jets of liquid were falling down on her cock and hand. oh, how you wanted to lick that. her chest coming and going fast desperately, controlling her panting breath as she opened her eyes slowly as if she had just woken up.
"you did so well, my baby. you-"
she cut you off.
"i need...more, i want to make the most of my last day with a dick...and with you, please let me cum more."
reality hit you, this was going to be a long night and the best phone call you ever had, you should send her to thailand alone more times.
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denwritesandcries · 1 year ago
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Take a Breath (and kiss me) – T.C
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Pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: Your girlfriend Tara gets a little clingy when she realizes you haven't kissed her properly in days.
Word count: 2,0k
Content: cursing, fluff, kisses, cuddles, tara being a sad pup, college routine kicking everybody's asses, core four as a family.
Note: First time writing for Tara! Pure fluff cause I’m starting on a new job this week and needed comfort.
English is not my first language.
It's been four days straight since you last kissed Tara.
Not that she was counting, she really wasn't, but now, after an extremely long and tiring day of exams and more exams, it seemed impossible not to feel your absence next to her. The feeling of neediness and loneliness hits her hard when she realizes how long it's been since you two have been together.
Four days. Four whole days of no holding hands or playing with her hair, no hugs, no cuddles and definitely no kisses. Be it on the forehead, the cheek, the shoulders, the hands, or on the lips. Nothing. It's like the universe just decided one day 'nuh-uh, no kisses for Tara Carpenter' and boy that was unfair.
The last time you kissed her – actually kissed her – was on Monday morning, at the beginning of that hellish week, when she woke up too early with the sunlight escaping through a crack in the curtains bothering her eyes, with her whole body completely curled up on top of yours. One of the best ways to wake up, really. The same thing happened to you a short time later, because as much as Tara loves being in your arms, she also can't help but feel restless when she's awake and move a lot, but the way she lights up when you sleepy mumble a good morning to her doesn't make you able to be upset with her for that.
You gave her a slow, lazy kiss, still with that warm aura of sleep remaining.
It was the most she could enjoy of your company before you had to leave in a hurry to escape the scolding Sam would give you both for spending the night having class the next day – even though, you know, you're college students and adults – and get to your own dorm to be ready in time for your first class in the morning.
She would have braved the scolding and made you stay a little longer if she had remembered that exam season was about to start. Unfortunately, this only occurred to her when she had her first taste of it later that day.
See, that was perhaps the thing Tara hated most about her new life as a student in New York: the way the change in routine could easily overwhelm her, and how that made it even worse because you couldn't be around as much as she wanted you to.
You were a year ahead of her and your courses were different, so you didn't have any classes together and your paths barely crossed during the day, which meant the only times she got to see you were on quick runs across campus, barely having time to exclaim a 'hi baby!' before disappearing with stacks of books and notebooks in your arms.
Sure, you exchanged a lot of messages, but it wasn't the same as having a warm body next to her in bed or on the couch. You couldn't even come to the apartment after everything because she was also too tired from her own work to hangout after it.
But Friday had finally arrived and she had enough time to wallow in self-pity until everyone got home. Checking the patterned wall clock that her sister bought when they moved in, Tara realizes that it's already past five pm and the sound of the door opening is the sign that her family has started to come in. She buries her head in the pile of cushions, ignoring the throbbing pain in her temples.
“Ugh, finally." Mindy plops down next to Tara on the other side of the couch, clasping her hands above her head to stretch, “What is this? Why is there a sad, miserable gremlin on our couch?”
She hears Chad's loud laugh coming from the kitchen but can only mutter a 'fuck you' muffled by the cushions she's sunk into, feeling a tap on her calf in response.
Tara wasn't going to put up with any mockery now, not when she was so tired and sleepy and missing you. She would do the same thing she had done the last few days: take a hot shower without giving a shit to Quinn's protests about using all the water, hug Sam when she got home from work in 45 minutes, and accept the offer of a snack when her sister ask if she had already eaten, then she would go to her room, throw herself on the bed and text you goodnight, before completely blacking out until the next day, when she could finally have you all to herself for the entire weekend – and for the rest of the week too. The worst part is over, so screw it, you guys could afford to miss some classes.
“Are you just gonna lay there and give up on existence, lil dude?” Mindy starts again, interrupting the peaceful and only partly distressing silence Tara had settled into as she builds up the strength to stand up.
“Will you shut the hell up?” She bites, grabbing one of the cushions and hitting her friend in the face, “You’re not funny and my head hurt as fuck.”
“Jesus, okay, okay!” Mindy waves her arms in defeat and stands up, “I won’t say anything else then.”
"Great."
“I’m not gonna say–” She takes on a teasing tone, “–that Anika thought that a certain someone was really upset and buried in books all that time in their dorm and that it would be better if they came straight here after class to take a break, but I’m not gonna tell you that.”
"What?" Tara’s expression immediately brightened, “You’re serious? What you–"
“Well, I told my girlfriend to bring your girlfriend. But it's okay, I'm not gonna say any of that.”
Mindy looked extremely smug but Tara chose to spare her another hit in the face for the sake of the information she just received. She lights up and jumps off the couch in a flash, rushing to shower and get ready now that she has a good reason. She hears Chad shouting from the kitchen:
“Girl, I thought you were tired!”
“Right?” Mindy laughs, “Wednesday’s at that age when a girl has only one thing on her mind, Chad.”
This makes her stop: “I don’t look like her!”
She slams the door shut when she hears their laughter increase in response.
If someone asked Tara if it was true that she sat on the side of the sofa closest to the door so she could see the exact moment you arrived, she would vehemently deny it – even though that's exactly what she did – and she would also deny that she deflated a little when the first person to arrive after the twins was Sam with a pizza box in one hand and covering a big yawn with the other.
You and Anika only arrive almost half an hour after Sam, finding Tara already watching you with doe eyes. Your haggard face immediately breaks into a smile, lines of fatigue crinkling in the corners of your eyes.
“There you are, dear,” you cross the room towards her and Tara leans in, even before you touch her, practically purring at the soft kiss you leave on her forehead, “I missed you.”
She melts when you wrap your arms around her, burying her head in your chest, but that's it. A kiss on the forehead and a hug and then you're pulling away again because you and Anika have brought more food that should be placed on the kitchen counter.
It only took this small moment of you going back and forth for everything to come back to Tara with full force. You didn't kiss her.
It's stupid, it's irrational, but her eyes fill with tears even though she can clearly see you from behind, unpacking the groceries and talking to your friends there.
Tara tried to just sit and wait for you to come back as soon as you were done, but patience was never her thing.
“Hm?” You hum when you feel a tug on your hodie's sleeve, looking back to find Tara with a tearful, frustrated expression.
“I had a really long day,” she begins, not quite sure how to ask for what she wants, eyes focused on the floor, “Will you come stay with me?”
Your heart races and your voice immediately softens: “Of course, sweetheart.”
Tara wastes no time in dragging you to her room by your wrist and you can't even react to the warning look Sam throws you over her shoulder.
She perches on your lap the second you sit down on the bed, sighing in relief as she buries her face in your shoulder.
You rest your chin on her head, “Did somethin’ happen?”
“I’m gonna quit college." She moans in defeat against your neck.
You huff a giggle into her hair, “Same, baby.”
Tara pulls away just enough to look at you and the pure love and tenderness in your eyes is more than enough to make the tears come back.
“What? What is it?" You straighten up, worried, tightening your arms around her.
“You haven’t kissed me in four days.”
She blurts out, voice cracking and strangled and you stop.
“Four days?”
Tara nods, “Except for the one on the forehead, you haven’t really kissed me in four days and like, several hours.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” She frowned. Shit, now she was getting mad at you, “Oh?”
You rush to take her mind off it, pressing a kiss to her lips in which she immediately melts with a soundly sigh of relief.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” you murmur between small pecks distributed on her lips, “I was so caught up in everything that I didn’t even notice.”
Tara still seemed a little upset by your response, but you kissed her again, bringing a hand to her jaw to deepen, feeling your girlfriend's arms entwined around your neck.
When you pull apart this time, you're both out of breath and Tara's face is covered in a soft red glow. You gently draw patterns with your fingers on her hips and lean in, leaving a kiss on her warm cheek.
“I’m sorry, Tar,” you echo, looking deep in her eyes “I’ve missed you so much. How can I make it up to you?”
She pretends to think for a moment, averting her eyes to hide the shiver that runs through her body.
“It's been four days,” she huffs with more annoyance than she actually feels, “I'm a girl who has abandonment issues, you know, it's your obligation to kiss me every day from now on.”
“Noted,” you smile.
“But…” She starts with a mischievous smile, “You could also make me feel better by watching The Babadook with me.”
“No, no, Tara!” You whine, “The noises of that movie freak me out!”
“Oh, I know,” your girlfriend says, blinking innocently, “But I want to do something with you, it's been so long since we watched something together alone and I love you so much.”
"I love you too." You respond instantly.
It only takes a look at those doe eyes and you lose the battle immediately and Tara looks victorious. She knows the power she has over you, the adorable little shit.
She leaves your lap just enough time to pick up the laptop on the table and returns to her place, you pull her back and lie down on the pillows, dragging her against your chest, pulling a blanket from the corner of the bed to cover you both.
“Tests are over,” you say, burying your face in her neck as the movie scene darkens, “The next few weeks are ours now. Just ours.”
Tara giggles when you startle again, sinking further against your body, smelling the hodie you were wearing, the one she got you for your birthday.
“Ours,” she says, “I like how that sounds.”
Tara tries to stay awake as long as possible, even after you fall asleep with your face buried in her neck. She's almost asleep when Sam quietly opens the door, a plate of pizza in hand and an eyebrow raised. The silent question of ‘can she stay the night please?’ is just a formality.
There's no way you're getting out of her league anytime soon.
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year ago
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YEYYYT UR REQUESTS ARE OPENNN
pls bucky barnes w angry/jealous sex
btw so sad we are not matching profiles anymore aaaaa
I KNOW YAAY!!? love your brain sm omg!! im gonna do the same format as the moonboys one you sent in- just my thots and brainrot. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 and ah I know:( matching green was so cute but im on here all the time and get bored of my theme so quickly😭
JEALOUSY SEX W/ BUCKY.
bucky barnes x fem!reader
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warnings. 18+ only!! pinv, creampie, little bit of manhandling but it’s very light - all kinda lovey dovey. mdni
I feel like with bucky, sex isn't hateful, nor is it bitter. I think it's something that is often passionate and slow, sometimes rough, but for the most part, it's very loving. so, I think anger sex is a no no. but jealousy sex??? a big yes yes
right, so.. im thinking that he is still coming to terms with having a voice and being in control of his own thoughts etc etc, and that makes him feel a little insecure sometimes?? he often feels like you deserve someone who is more open/ straightforward and in tune with things, someone who is also closer to your age
so so so, one night when you come over to his after work, you have a lingering smell of another man's cologne (not bucky's oops - just someone you shared an elevator ride with) and instead of him moping over it, he decides against it 
you'd be on his bed, you flat to the mattress, completely bare with bucky hovering atop, his thick cock gliding into you so SO so slowly. almost teasingly!! he'd have your hands held above your head, his left, metal arm securing them tightly, his other hand lovingly cupped around your cheek - keeping your face still, making you keep your eyes on him. his strokes would be very consuming! with his leisure thrusts you're able to feel EVERYTHING!! every vein on his cock, every twitch when his tip kisses at your cervix, every ridge when he brushes against your walls
he'd wind into you slowly, making you feel it all. every. single. millimetre. of. his. pretty. dick. he'd be very teasing with it, almost cooing at you when you make those pretty sounds he loves so much. he'd thumb over your cheek, eyes locked on yours, softly nodding down at you when your lips part and head falls back. he'd tell you how he's never felt a pussy as good as yours, and how no one can ever and will ever fuck you and love you and look after you as good as he does (he always gets a little ego boost when he fucks you, so woo, yay! go you) might I add, he whispers it against your lips, just saying. just him muttering praise in a hoarse, strained tone on your lips???? goodbye
he won't kiss you yet, just lips shadowing yours, swallowing your gentle whines and whimpers as he fucks into you - keeping that same slow, tedious pace. your legs would wrap around his middle tighter, keeping him glued to you as you reach your high. you'd tell him how he's the only man you want, the only person you want inside of you and that'll make him cum IMMEDIATELY!! just him being reassured and comforted??? makes him jizz on command
he'd fuck his cum into you, slowly and sloppily as you kiss. all very carnal and desperate!! lots of muffled whispers and heavy breaths as you both even out. ALSO!! he'd kiss your wrists if his metal arm made a mark, replacing the cold with warmth
gonna go cry now bc I want him so bad
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