#could you like send me some asks? like with questions or whatever really

[rewatching-sam-and-dean]

It’s Rant Time Again, Friends!

And today’s rant is brought to you by the silliness that came scross my Twitter feed this week in the form of an absolutely pointless question, but even more so by some of the asinine answers I saw. Some of you probably already saw this (and responded) if you’re on Twitter, so I’m not screenshotting it. Besides, people are allowed to ask (stupid) questions. But, I’m also allowed to comment on how dumb the questions are.

The Question:

“If it came down to saving Sam or Cas, who do you think Dean would save first?”

Question Issues:

If someone watched the show at all, the answer to this question is more than obvious. But the question isn’t even just ��who would Dean save” but “who would Dean save first?” I mean the answer to both is the same, but surly even the “found family” crew of fans should be able to recognize that Dean will always try to save Sam first. The ones who claim otherwise have to be knowingly lying, because if not … I fear for society that people are that lack that much media literacy.

The responses:

So, here’s what gets me even more than the “innocent” question, the responses. Of course the vast majority of reposts and replies are saying some variation of “Sam, obviously.” Because it is obvious. The show has showed us again and sngsinghdt Dean would put Sam’s life above his own, his parents, his friends, anyone.

But what’s really amusing/annoying/sad is seeing people twisting themselves into pretzels just to avoid having to admit the truth. These are the ones saying things like:

“Dean would find a way to save both of them!” - Would he though? When “Zeke” gave Dean the ultimatum between sending a penniless, powerless, helpless and hunted Castiel out into the world on his own … or him leaving Sam, stopping the healing and potentially (only potentially) resulting in Sam dying, there is no hesitation. Dean clearly feels bad, but he tosses Cas out on his ass in a blink. What does he not do? He doesn’t try to arrange something so they are both safe. Hell, he doesn’t even give Cas anything to help feed, cloth or protect himself. He just sends him out into the world to try and figure shit out on his own.

“Dean would kill/sacrifice himself, if it meant he could save Cas, too.” - Umm, where have we ever seen him put Cas above himself? Would he risk his life to save Castiel? Of course he would, but he would also risk his life to try and save a complete stranger. That sort of comes with the territory of being a hunter. But the only person Dean has ever directly and intentionally sacrificed himself for is Sam. I saw some argue that he was willing to kill or himself to bring Cas back after Chuck snapped everyone away in Season 15, but that’s a misinterpretation (selective listening), common among hellers and Cas stans, of what Dean is actually saying. Dean and Sam say they will kill each other if Chuck will bring everyone back, including Cas. They are not offering to do this just for Cas, it’s for the world. Besides, in his scenario I get the feeling that the intention is for both Sam and Dean to die, so they’ll go out together to save everyone else.

“Dean would save Sam, but his life would be over, or he’d give up after without Cas.” - LMAO. No. Unless you want to argue that a smiling happy and content Dean is secretly trying to drown his sorrows in the finale when Sam is the one to bring up Jack and Cas, and Dean is basically like, ��yeah sure, losing them was sad or whatever, but like we gotta live Sam. Now let’s destroy this pie.”

And my personal favourite…

“It totally depends on what season of the show we are talking about.” - Bitch please, it would make no difference. There isn’t a single episode, let alone whole Season, where Desn would try to save Cas before, or instead of, Sam. See my examples from Season 9 and 15 above. There are so many examples of Dean not doing much to save Cas, vs him begging, pleading, or trading humans to save Sam.

[broke-on-books]

☕

The live action Scooby-Doo movies?

I did not see this ask until RIGHT now (first time on desktop since crab day, second time since Nov 5 2020 [which was DOUBLY experience since I got my phone taken the same day]) so I'm going to assume this ask got eaten on mobile because tumblr, HOWEVER you poked a bear with this ask anon (as I'm sure you knew when asking) SO without further ado: my Scooby Doo live action opinions

So when you say 'live action Scooby-Doo movies' I'm assuming you're talking about the James Gunn films, starting with Scooby-Doo (2002) followed by Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed, just due to like, generally popularity and also the fact that I have actually seen those films. However shoot another ask if you wanted me to include Curse of the Lake Monster in this (because I will if anyone cares and turn this into a live-action scooby dissertation, i'd just need to like. watch the movie first) But anyways where I'm going with this is that this post is about the Gunn movies aka the ones with SMG, Freddie Prinze Jr., Linda Cardellini, and ofc our #1 man, Matthew Lilliard.

Okay so my take on these movies is... complicated. I wouldn't say it's as complicated as my feelings towards SDMI, because I watched the live actions way less as a kid and generally care less about them, but still no matter how much shit I throw at these two movies there are parts that I generally like (even love) that stops me from totally condemning them wholesale. Like the fact that these movies are FUNNY! There's so many moments from this duology that are just beyond iconic "like, that's one of my favorite names!" the whole thing with Scooby in the dress at the airport, ET. CETERA (like I can go on!)

The Gunn movies are genuinely SO fun and I can 100% see and understand how they've stood so well in the public view as a representation of Scooby. HOWEVER, this is where you start to see my problems with them. For the general American, (because that is the audience I'm familiar with) ESPECIALLY millennials and younger, who happen to make up the majority of both people on this site AND people I talk about Scooby with in real life, these movies, and the elements they introduced as "quintessential scooby tropes" are the base of their understanding of the Scooby franchise, along with likely some miscellaneous WAY episodes and maybe SDMI.

Which is where I get pissed off. In the pushing of the narrative of "breaking away" from the Scooby norm, Gunn basically invents (aka totally makes up) an idea of what classic era Scooby was like, cementing an idea of classic Scooby into the public mind that is totally disingenuous and just straight up false. For example, in attempting to portray Daphne as having taken strides to be seen more seriously in solving mysteries and defending herself, it pushes the narrative that in the classic era she WASN'T taken seriously, and only existed as a damsel-in-distress prop of a character, which is just not true??? Like yes, Daphne is clumsy, that's a part of her character, and her friends (because, fun fact, the gang ARE friends) joke about it sometimes because that's what friends DO. Framing that in some kind of sexist "that's all she does" lens is just total bull, especially as gang members fall into secret passageways/get lost etc. in WAY ALL THE DAMN TIME because that's how the plot functions! Like are we calling Velma ditzy for losing her glasses every other episode? Of course not, and Fred falls into passageways all the time, not to MENTION Shaggy and Scooby and all they get up to. Also one last thing on the topic of Daphne, like this idea of her mystery solving skills not being respected by the gang is just so supremely bullshit it amazes me sometimes, especially when she was the LEADER (or leader adjacent) through pretty much all of her appearances in the 1980s [Not that James Gunn could look at '80s era Scooby without spitting on it, but I digress]

AND THIS IS JUST DAPHNE! Like the perceptions pushed towards Fred (and Velma, but mostly Fred) through these movies are just as bad! Like okay, with Fred---In these movies Fred is just an asshole. I hate Gunn Movies!Fred. I mean yeah he can be funny but it's almost always so mean! Almost nothing makes me madder than a mean Fred by the way. If he's putting other gang members down (even halfway, like with his whole "dorky chicks like you turn me on too" line, which... ew) then to me something has gone very, very, VERY, wrong in your basic understanding of Frederick Herman Jones as a character. Like he's the cheerleader! He puts himself in between his friends and danger! He loves nets, and traps, and Elvis impressions, and wrestling, and the trapeze, and cars, and most of all he LOVES sharing the things he loves with his friends! (Sometimes to a bit of an extreme. No one wants to hear about your net facts, Fred) And the live action movies just don't understand that at all. And I know there's maybe something to say I suppose in that some of those aspects of his characterization hadn't been "established yet" by the time "Scooby-Doo" came out in 2002. But it's there if you look. For Fred Jones, being the leader means being the caretaker, (he's the Mom friend what can I say) and any version where he's cruel and arrogant and just DOESN'T CARE about his friends in the way he's shown to in the Gunn movies is just so far from Fred to me it's not even funny. And what makes it even worse for me is that this (or at least something similar) is the idea of Fred that has really spread to the popular culture. Just the "leader", the jock that makes the rules, the one that [insert X adaptation here] finally gave a personality and made interesting (something that has been said more times than I can count for pretty much every gang member, save Shaggy and Scooby).

And I haven't even touched on Velma, and how they gave her a bit of a early 2000s smart superiority girl complex against Daphne, plus the whole makeover thing and etc. etc. The Gunn Movies are pretty much what would happen if you took someone who hadn't seen Scooby since they were 7 years old (and honestly had a pretty negative outlook against it then) and tried to "fix" it, only his memory was so bad he just made up problems (and threw in a good helping of early 2000s style sexism with it) convincing pretty much the entirety of the popular culture that said problems exist and that Gunn was absolutely brilliant for fixing them (and then bringing up said "problems" whenever anyone wants to talk about Scooby) and this entire rant has been without even fucking MENTIONING what is probably the reason you, anonymous tumblr user sent this ask in the first place, to I, Swishy "Scrappy Doo Redemption Arc" Broke-on-books (dot tumblr dot com), which is his HIGHLY SUCESSFUL and utterly sadistic character assassination of my number one man, Scrappy Doo.

And I am going to try my damnedest here not to get totally into my highly passionate opinions over what James Gunn did to Scrappy in the first of his Scooby movies and how thoroughly it has pissed me the fuck off because I have been writing this post for over an hour now and if we start to really get into my feelings on this topic it will certainly be a couple of hours more but like. That Fucking Bitch. I give James Gunn personally a solid eighty-five percent of the blame for making my life as a Scrappy Doo fan UTTERLY unbearable with this stupid fucking movie alone, and just his Scrappy crimes would honestly be enough for me to say that I hate this movie, not even considering the numerous Scooby crimes I've been talking about here for the past million paragraphs, but the part about this movie that makes me the MOST mad the most pissed off is that it's actually a good fucking movie. James Gunn wrote two hilarious and entertaining movies that have become beloved in the popular culture for their successes in that arena, while at the same time pissing all over the core themes and messages of the franchise of which it was based, that of friendship.

TLDR; The Live Action Scooby Doo movies (written by James Gunn) are highly entertaining and fun pieces of media to watch, and are widely loved by the general public and looked at with fondness and nostalgia because of that. However, as a hardcore Scooby Doo fan (writing that phrase sounds so ridiculous but oh well) the existence of these movies and their impact on the popular culture can be extremely frustrating (despite any personal nostalgia said fan may have) due to their spreading of a misinformed picture of what "typical Scooby Doo" looks like. This picture is especially frustrating due to the fabrication or exaggeration of problems present in classic Scooby (such as sexism in regards to the girls), as well as giving more ammunition to other problems in Scooby fandom (such as oversexualization, and sexualization in general, which no one wants to see in regards to their children's cartoons, like HONESTLY.) Discussions of sexism and sexualization in Scooby (both of which ARE present and are issues, although not at their worst in WAY) can often lead to an overlooking of the issues that are very present and clear in WAY and have continued since then with far too little resistance (I'm 100% talking about the racism here) HOWEVER that topic deserves at least a dozen posts of its own that I am no way informed or qualified enough to even begin to think about writing. The Gunn Movies are frustrating to many longtime Scooby fans because of these reasons, but for me, and fellow Scrappy Doo fans there is also the added aspect of the demonization of Scrappy Doo in the live action movies and the affects that has had on the popular culture as well, making it uniquely inhospitable to like or enjoy the character of Scrappy. End post.

[cultivating-wildflowers]

You're packing to leave your home in the apocalypse and can bring up to three books with you, depending on size/weight. Which books are you grabbing?

[joshuamj]

in regards to last reblog (specifically my tags on it), very friendly reminder that i would love to receive asks, i promise u will not be bothering me. Just be prepared cuz depending on what u say i may ramble on and on.

[k-hotchoisan]

body language

<yunho x fem!reader>

well, pining after your brother’s fucking attractive best friend isn’t a sin if he doesn’t know right? nobody has to know.

nobody has to know that you're lodged in his fantasies when the nights deepen.

nobody has to know what happens when you're forced to share a room with Yunho.

Genre/Warnings: smut, big dick! X Perverted! Yunho, unprotected sex, low key corruption kink, mutual pining, cream pies, fingering, orgasms, overstimulation, oh no they are forced to share a room!, sexual tension, dirty talk

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee

🩷 back to staying perverted

A/N: send me to jail for being so inactive TT I know life happens and I shouldn't apologise for going mia for a bit but I still feel so bad! Nonetheless, please continue giving my works as much love as you all always do, and that ya'll are my source of motivation. Thank you for waiting ❤️

Undoubtedly, it’s either your brother has good taste in making friends, or you just have interesting taste in men, because out of all men you had a crush on, it had to be the one closest to your brother—Jeong Yunho. Something about him made your heart flutter uncontrollably. Maybe it was the way he would lean in towards you when he wanted to whisper something in your ear, keeping your brother an arm’s length while his voice tickled perfectly as it reverberates in your brain. Maybe it was the way he would hold your stare for a couple of seconds before his pretty smiles spreads across his lips, as if he was keeping a secret that he wants to tell you. Maybe it was the way he would bump his arm against yours when he wants to ally with you to piss your brother off. 

Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny that the feelings you had for him were growing exponentially. How you managed to keep said feelings in bay was a mystery. You could attribute it to knowing Yunho for as long as you did. Maybe he treated everyone nice and politely like that. It was hard not to keep your hopes up sometimes and it really made you frustrated. 

“A chalet?” You repeat. “What’s the occasion?” 

“Just a weekend out”, your brother replies. “A couple of friends will be coming. You know them, including Yunho.”

“Are you going?” Yunho suddenly asks. 

You break eye contact with Yunho, going back to your phone. “No. I’m going on a date.”

Yunho’s eyes widen. There is a flash of panic that flickers in his eyes. His words spill out of him before he realises it. 

“With who? How come I didn’t know?” 

You cast a confused glance at him. “Why would you need to know?”

That was when Yunho realises, and he simmers down, going back to hiding behind his phone screen. He bites his tongue, hoping you nor your brother ha caught on. But thankfully, no one else questions him. In fact, your brother doubles down.

“Yeah, you didn’t tell me?” Your brother echos. 

“As if you’re interested in my love life”, you playfully retort, rolling your eyes before you disappear into your room, before Yunho starts to hear your heartbeat right in your ears again. 

Yunho stares blankly at his phone, still processing that you’ll be going on a date. Something sits uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. He’s running his brain, thinking of a million ways to make you cancel the date, half of it under the pretence of your brother. How could he do it without making it obvious? 

“And why would I cancel my date, Jeong Yunho?” You ask, your arms crossed. For some reason, your brother and Yunho were suddenly way too interested in your date. Especially Yunho. He would not get off your back about it. 

“It’s dangerous? Who knows he might be a serial killer!” He was really dramatic about too, might you add. 

You scoff, and an amused smile tugs the corner of your lips, as your hand reaches out to pat his cheek. “I’ll be fine, Yun. You’re on my speed dial if anything happens okay?” 

For a moment, you feel his gaze piercing right into you, as if time didn’t exist—the both of you caught in between each other’s gazes, Yunho looking like he wants to say something, but he stops himself. You quickly break the eye contact, remembering that he’s your brother’s best friend, and that Yunho is just being as worried as your brother. Nothing more than that. Yunho wants to hold the gaze longer. He almost wants to break the imaginary boundaries then both of you set, but he snaps into to reality when he watches you leave, his voice trapped in his throat. 

Fuck. Looks like he’s the one losing now. 

It doesn’t help that during that night, you slip into his dreams, and instead of you leaving, he has your face in his hands, and your lips are on his. He feels you in your entirety, and you feel so fucking good pressed against him. Yunho wants so badly to mark every part of you, to remind you he could do so much better than whoever you’re supposedly going out with. He could kiss you better, fuck you better. Then it switches—to you in front of him, your ass bouncing off his cock, loud smacks echoing from the walls as he sinks into your pussy with a broken sigh.

That’s when he fucking jolts awake, warm fluids streaming down his thighs, as he swallows an imaginary mass in his throat because what the fuck just happened? He stares blankly at the white ceiling of his room, mind as blank. 

How fucked is he?

Yunho reaches to the doorstep of the chalet, almost close to midnight. Dance practice had bleed past the time, later than he thought. He greets his friends at the barbecue pit, still grilling chicken and seafood, stealing a stick and getting playfully hit before he enters the chalet itself. 

Your brother sat there, comfortable with his girlfriend’s legs crossed over his lap as they had joycons in their hands, playing some kind of co-op game together. His friend turns to him, before his eye dart back to the screen once he acknowledges Yunho, much too engrossed with the level he and his girlfriend was at. 

“Your room’s to the left of the stairs. I hung your lanyard there”, your brother says, before his attention goes right back to the game. For a spilt second, he suddenly remembers that he wanted to tell Yunho something, something important, but when his girlfriend squeals at clearing the level, the thought is completely erased from his memory.

Yunho climbs up the stairs, pushes the door open, and completely stops in his tracks as his gaze locks with yours. You’re seated on the bed, relaxed and on your phone until the door suddenly pushes open, and Yunho stands there, looking as bewildered as you. 

There is a long moment of silence between the both of you. 

“Can I help you, Yunho?” You break it. 

“No…isn’t this my room?” Yunho clarifies. You glance around and shrug. 

Yunho drops his bag, his heart beating loudly in his chest. 

His eyebrows furrow, confusion sprawled across his face. 

“Hold on. Weren’t you suppose to be on a date?” 

You shrug again. “Yeah. It ended early. I thought of finding my brother and he asked me to use this room since it was vacant. I supposed he forgot to tell you? I could leave if-“

“N-no. You can stay, since you’re already here”, Yunho cuts you off. No fucking way is he wasting this chance. Somehow the thought of you within the same, close proximity is making his head dizzy. “You’re okay with sharing the bed? I can sleep downstairs.”

Your face starts to heat up. As much as it was the elephant in the room, for Yunho to bring up so straightforwardly like that was making your mind wander a little too close to the sun. 

You force a small smile. “It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.” Well, not a lie, the only thing was that the both of you were blacked out drunk when it happened that one time. 

Yunho’s signature smile appears. He looks comforted, at least. “Right. Then I’ll use the bathroom to wash up.” He grabs a spare towel on the rack, then walks back to dig for his clothes in his duffle before he disappears into the bathroom, leaving you with your messy thoughts. Your hand is over your heart, and you feel it beating a little too wildly. 

Nothing’s gonna happen. Two people of the opposite sex can share a bed just fine, is what you tell yourself. Yeah, that would have been the case, if the opposite gender wasn’t Jeon Yunho. 

Fifteen minutes felt like fifteen years in all honesty. The anxiety wouldn’t simmer down, so you end up burying yourself underneath the cold sheets, hoping that you’d end up falling asleep. 

And by some miracle, you did. That is, until you feel the mattress weigh down, and shuffling on the sheets, then something bumping against your leg. You stir slightly from the disruption.

“Sorry. The bed’s a little…cramped”, you hear Yunho’s voice tickling your ears as his legs press against yours. 

You stay silent, the only things that you hear are the whirling of the air conditioning and the sound of your heart about to fucking burst from your rib cage. 

“It’s fine”, you finally reply, your body completely still, unsure how actually close the male is against you, only his legs pressed up against the back of your knees and his arms are barely touching your back as a gauge. Well, you weren’t in the mood to find out. The myriad amount of assurances you repeat to yourself that he’s just a friend, that he’s just Jeon Yunho, does nothing to comfort you to say the least. 

You hear his voice ring a little to close to your ears again. “How was your date?”

You don’t want to answer, your eyes are focused onto the darkness of the door in front of you. You fear that he might hear your thoughts if you speak, even though that’s literally impossible. 

“It was fine”, you curtly reply, squeezing the spare pillow in your arms. 

“What did you think of him?” 

“I think he’s okay. He’s quite a decent guy. Then again, it’s just the first date”.

The mattress shifts suddenly and you freeze when you feel him inch even closer to you. You have no clue what expression he’s making but from the way he suddenly shifts rather dramatically, you would assume that he seemed shocked? 

Oh, you were definitely about to find out. 

“You’re planning to see him again?” He’s closer now. You feel his chest almost pressing against your spine. You feel his gaze piercing daggers into the back of your head. You feel his agitation. But over what?

“I haven’t decided on that yet”, you reply. But you cut him before he says anything, “but what’s it to you? You usually don’t care about the things I do. Let alone my dates.”

This time, it’s Yunho’s turn to fall silent. The weight of the mattress beneath you shifts once more it stills. For a moment, you assume that he’d shifted away from you, and maybe he’d let the matter die off.

“Who said I didn’t?”

Now he’s completely pressing his body against you—you feel his lips just a hair’s length from the back of your neck, his chest completely flat against your back. 

His crotch right against your ass. 

“Yunho-“, you try turning to face him before the both of your start making any mistakes, but his hand presses your waist down, halting any movements you were about to make. Heat is flushing your cheeks.

“I’ll stop if you don’t want to, and I’ll turn away, and sleep downstairs. I won’t force you if you don’t want to.”

Shit, shit, shit. The more words Yunho speak, the more they aren’t registering in your damn head. His voice is melting in your ears, low and dangerous. The consequences that once rang like alarm bells in your head slowly grow muted, and now it’s just your carnal desire to let Yunho do whatever he wanted to you.

“I’m not doing this without your consent, my dear”, he reminds , and his hand is slowly trailing off your body. 

All the repercussions, completely wiped off when your feelings that you once tried to fucking hard to suppress behind to bubble up to the surface, and for Yunho to just summon them so easily when he says it so gently and with such  temptation.

But you should still probably stop this-

From the way you’re staying quiet, Yunho is ready to just cut his advances. After all, he’s not interested in making you feel uncomfortable, as much as he wants to just ruin you all for himself. He keeps his breathing light, but his heart is still beating loudly in his chest, bracing himself for the rejection, his hand gradually lifting from your waist, very much reluctantly-

Until he feels your hand cup his. 

“I wanna feel you, Yunho”, you answer him, loud enough for him to hear, even though it was only the two of you within the confines of the room. 

Yunho feels like he’s not close enough to you, even though the both of you are squeezed together, and his erection is evident—pressing shamelessly against the curve of your ass. It’s driving up the wall. 

Another thing he doesn’t expect is the way your fingers curl around his wrist, and you bring him to your braless tits, and he short-circuits when his fingers press against your hard nipples. You curse softly when he rolls them gently against his fingertips, and you lean back against his chest. Yunho takes the chance to kiss your neck down to your shoulders, making you melt all over again. 

But he doesn’t want to stay there for long. His cock is just throbbing and it’s overtaking his rationale. 

You always offhandedly complimented that Yunho had such long, slender and pretty fingers, and that he made mundane actions—writing, typing—look so attractive.

And now, his fingers are prying your legs to spread open for him.

His fingers dip into the wetness of your soaked folds, and his mind almost completely blanks out for the second time at the way you’re drenched for him. 

“Fuck. All of this for me?” He asks rhetorically, as he easily sinks two fingers in, hearing you choke from how his fingers are filling you up so well. The tip of his fingertips press against a spongy spot, and your head tilts back, face so flushed from the pleasure when he begins curl his fingers while in you and while he fucks your wet cunt. 

He’s not letting you form any coherent thoughts in your head, not while he’s finger fucking the thoughts right out your poor brain.

“You’re so fucking soft. Shit. I really want to fuck you so fucking bad”, he grunts in your ear, his hips grinding against your ass like a natural instinct to. 

“Your cock”, you mutter, struggling to keep your eyes open and mind clear. “Fuck. Need you to fuck me so good.”

Yunho inhales the scent of your hair wash as he peppers bites and kisses down the nape of your neck, smiling when he feels goosebumps spread across your skin.

He’s so tempted. But not yet. He desperate—desperate to see you fucking fall apart just with his fingers.

So he pulls his soaked fingers out, and for a moment, you whine at how empty your cunt feels, just ready to fucking beg him to fuck you with his fingers, his cock, whatever. 

He sits up, pushing the thick and heavy blankets aside, tugging your wet bottoms and panties off, giving himself a mental reminder to pocket your panties when he’s done with you. 

You’re spread open and perfectly wide for him to admire and drool over. By now, his eyes are pretty much adjusted the darkness, and the both of you are lazy to switch on the nightlight, so he’s definitely able to see your pussy in full view.

“Y-yu-“, your words completely cut off when he plunges two fingers right into your pussy again, filling you up completely. And this time, his other hand is on your clit, fingers rubbing, sending sparks flying beneath your eyelids. 

The pleasure makes you buck your hips, and it builds so dangerously quick in your abdomen. The sounds of your pussy growing so fucking wet only encourages Yunho to pick up the pace, catching a rhythm of fucking and rubbing your clit so perfectly that you realise the feeling is growing way too funny. 

“Y-Yunho-“ you try again. “Oh god. Feels weird.” Nonetheless, you don’t say it without your eyes rolling back and your abdomen flexing. 

“That’s it. Let it go for me, baby. It’ll feel so fucking good.”

Oh fuck. You don’t even register it before it happens—it totally washes over you, and you’re just helplessly submitting to how fucking good this feels as you squirt all over Yunho, your mind swimming in the depths of ecstasy, your moans drowned when Yunho seals your lips shut with his, greedy to just keep them all to himself, and well, also not trying to wake the whole chalet up. 

When Yunho pulls back and sees how flushed spent your face looks, he can’t help but sink deeper into his feelings for you. He goes in for another kiss, this time with your mind slowly clearing from the mind-blowing orgasm. Your arms wrap around his neck instantly, pulling him as close as you could, soft moans in between kisses only making him impossibly harder than he already was. 

He shifts to lie down on the bed with you again, this time the both of you facing each other. He tugs the hem of your shirt and lugs it over your head, before lowering himself slightly to face your chest. You don’t know how but his pants are somehow kicked off, somewhere on the bed, and he’s bare and so fucking hard when he presses his cock on your pussy. 

“Lift your leg for me, babe”, he says, palm sliding on the underside of your thigh as he feels you spread your legs open for him once more. 

Yunho rubs his cockhead along your wet fucking folds, before he pushes himself in, a whimper leaving his lips as he bites on your shoulder to stop any loud noises from slipping past his lips. 

He pushes himself in even more, and your arms are around his neck once more, light red imprints from your fingernails dig into his skin.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Feels like fucking heaven. So fucking tight and soft”, he mutters, eyes so glazed, and arms so tight around you when he finally buries himself into the hilt. 

Your mind is complete mush by then—combined with Yunho’s cock that’s stuffed in you and the scent of his hair wash, you swear you were gonna cum for the second time. You knew he probably packed something, but holy fucking shit, you just never thought it would fill you up this fucking good. The rest of your senses slowly start to dull, the feeling of Yunho’s cock almost taking them  all away. 

“Shit. You’re fucking squeezing me-fuck!-here,” Yunho says, but it comes off as a broken moan. His head is buried into the crook of your neck, and you hear him trying to steady his breath through a slew of curses. 

“You wanna move now?” You ask, your fingers combing through his messy locks. Yunho thinks he might have some sort of hair combing fetish with you now. 

“Fuck, yes, please,” is all he replies before he pulls out slightly, then thrusting right back in, projecting fucking stars into your eyelids when he fills you up again and again. 

You press your head against the pillow, eyes shut from the pleasure. When you find the strength to open them, Yunho’s glazed out expression is what comes into view. He’s looking at you like you’re his fucking treasure. 

“Does it feel good? You feel so fucking amazing, y/n.”

“You can’t be asking me that when you’re fucking the thoughts right out of me”, and you squeal when he thrusts into you once more, filling you up to the brim.

“Even better. So my cock will be only the cock you know, right?” He smiles, fighting the urge to roll his eyes when your walls clench around him again.

And when you don’t answer, his hand slithers to your neck, and he squeezes, making you gasp. 

“Answer me, pretty.”

“Yes, fuck yes. Don’t need anyone else’s when you’re fucking me so good”, you cry, relishing in the way he’s gradually cutting off your oxygen supply. 

His thrusts grow harder and faster, his hands slowly letting go of your throat.

“That’s my good girl.”

And that makes your cunt flutter and pulsate uncontrollably for the second time, only now it’s on his cock this time. 

“F-fuck. Oh, that’s it. That’s a good fucking girl, cumming all over my cock like that”, his voice ups a pitch when you fall apart again. “I’m gonna cum. Make sure you’re full and dripping when I’m fucking done with you.”

And when he does, he leaves a whole garden of bites on your chest and shoulders on top of filling your pussy up with his thick and warm cum. You never thought his face would get anymore attractive, but when he cums? You could get addicted to pulling that expression out of him, that’s for sure. 

The both of you are panting as your highs wear off, hands still not off each other despite the shared warmth. He’s the first to let go, and you’re about to say something until he turns you around, and it’s then when his cock starts to harden in you. Your heart is beating rapidly again when his cock is filling you up once more, as it slowly displaces his cum that leaks past your sopping hole.

Your hand grabs onto his arm that’s snaking around your waist. 

“W-wait. We need to talk about my broth-“, and he hears you whimper when he pushes himself deeper into you, throbbing in you. The way he’s littering kisses down your neck is sending you into a spiral, and now you’re nothing but weak against him, and his fat cock.

“That can wait to tomorrow, babe. I promised that I’ll make sure you’re full and dripping once I’m fucking done with you right? Well, I’m not done fucking you yet.”

[playnextdoor]

Ok brat

summary: you don't like listening to your girlfriend, no matter how scary she is

cw: arcane universe (idk), sevika x reader, mentions of reader not eating, smoking, drinking, teasing, suggestive, sevika being a dom sorry not sorry, cursing, mentions of sex, no sex (maybe for part 2? we'll see), kissing, sevikas fingers in your mouth, she’s a lil rough ig, idk lmk if i missed anything im getting ready for class lol

“My head is killing me,” you groan softly, rubbing your head as your gaze drifts to Sevika. The two of you are slouched in some random booth at The Last Drop. The smell of cleaning supplies and sparked cigarette smoke fills the air, signaling that open time is just around the corner. Your legs are draped over hers, and her hand idly plays with the frayed hem of your pants. She shakes her head as she snuffs out her cigar, her dark eyes glinting with a knowing look.

“It’s because you haven’t eaten today,” she states flatly, brushing loose strands of hair from her face. Her hand finds your thigh again, caressing it lazily, the cool metal of her mech fingers sending a shiver up your spine.

“Okay, yeah, but that doesn’t really have anything to do with that,” you grumble, pushing her hand away and setting your feet on the floor.  You know Sevika a little too well, how she seems to read you, and while she might be right, that doesn’t excuse her know-it-all attitude. Her usual reaction to your attitude would be the snap of her fingers in your face or give your cheek a teasing slap, so you drop your head onto the table with a groan to let her know that you don't care about her scolding.

The doorbell chimes as someone walks in, followed by the shuffling of chairs and murmurs from the staff. Yet, Sevika’s silence makes you look up. She’s scowling, lips pressed together like a parent holding back a reprimand. She bites her bottom lip, clearly trying to keep herself from saying what’s on her mind.

“How about you think about the way you want to talk to me while I play my games tonight, yeah?” It’s not a question; it’s a command. You know exactly what that means, being banned from “your” seat, her lap, while she deals with what cards she’ll be playing. Your mouth drops open, recognizing the familiar punishment, and Sevika’s eyes narrow, waiting for you to say some slick shit back.

Instead, you stick your tongue out at her, not caring about being childish. She chuckles, lighting another cigar, and takes a long drag, eyes locked on yours. Without missing a beat, she blows the smoke in your face, and you cough dramatically, waving your hand and gasping for air. Her laughter echoes around you, low and warm, as she shakes her head in disbelief; what a fucking brat. And you can’t help but slam the table as you get up towards the bar to down whatever liquor is waiting for you there. 

-

“UGHHHHH, my head!” you groan, louder this time, for what feels like the umpteenth time today. After leaving early so Sevika could fix her mech arm, you’ve been moping around her office, mostly talking to yourself, fully aware that she’s still pissed at you for earlier. 

“What do you wanna eat?” Sevika asks as she rummages through a toolbox without glancing your way.

“Not hungry,” you reply.

“Didn’t ask if you were hungry. I asked what you want to eat,” she snaps, slamming the small screwdriver onto the desk. Her patience is thin, and the frustration radiates off her. Standing with a groan, taking a few long strides toward you, her presence filling the small corner you were in. You’re curled up in your usual spot: a makeshift nest of forgotten clothes left behind by Silco’s goons.

“What’s with the attitude?” Sevika demands, her voice lower as she’s daring you to test her.

You huff, kicking your foot out so that it hits the toe of Sevika’s boot, Her eyes widen briefly in surprise before narrowing with a hint of amusement. She studies you, and you can’t help but mimic her scowl, your mouth slightly agape as you stare back. You know your irritation stems from more than just a headache. You haven't eaten properly, snacking popcorn and downing a few drinks earlier. 

Sevika bends at her knees, placing her hands on them to get eye level with you. Her intense gaze makes your stomach swoop, and though you hate to admit it, the way she bites her cheek and the lines deepening between her brows are intimidating.

“So, this is how it’s gonna be tonight? Alright,” she says, mostly to herself with a hint of pettiness, nodding once before turning to leave the office with a huff. Her final words hang in the air, and you watch her go, feeling a sense of regret settle in your chest. Frustrated with yourself for getting upset, you can’t help but think that she deserved it but only a little.

-

“You know, my head is feeling fine after this…” you barely manage to say, mouth full of the pasta Sevika made an hour after your little outburst. The warmth of the dish has melted away your day long headache, and the second glass of wine Sevika poured just ten minutes ago leaves you feeling loose, almost ready to throw yourself at her. She glances up and catches your satisfied smile, your cheeks flushed and stuffed with food. Her lips twitch, fighting the urge to lean over and kiss you, but she keeps it to herself, offering only a small smile before finishing her last bite.

“Now you’re the asshole,” you mumble between chews, a playful glint in your eyes.

Sevika choked a bit, grabbing a napkin to cover her mouth.

“Excuse me? You were the one being an asshole all day, asshole,” she fires back, slapping the napkin down on the table with more force than necessary.

“Looks like you’re asking to get smacked,” swallowing the food before taking a sip of wine.

“Maybe you are,” she counters smoothly, and you pause mid-sip, glancing at her through the wine glass. The warped image of her smirk and the spark of desire pooling in your belly make you shake your head. Setting the glass down, you gather both plates.

“If you were thinking about getting some tonight, you’re in for a rude awakening, babe,” you say, rolling your eyes as you march to the sink. You clatter the dishes a bit louder than needed, rinsing out the wine glasses.

The atmosphere shifts as you feel Sevika’s presence behind you, a silent, almost magnetic pull. She moves through the kitchen, tidying up, pushing in chairs, and tossing away scraps of napkin you always fidget with during dinner. A knowing smile lingers on her lips as if she’s already mapped out how the night will end.

Later, in your hot ass shower, your attempt to use up all the hot water, you hear the bathroom door creak open. The thick steam swirls around Sevika as she steps in, leaving the door open. She squints at the fogged-up mirror, grabbing her toothbrush.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too hot, babe?” she asks, her voice casual as she squeezes toothpaste onto her brush.

“It’s fine,” you reply blandly, turning your back to the water as you feel its little pricks of heat.

Sevika finishes brushing her teeth, and a mischievous grin spreads across her face as she eyes the toilet handle. Before you can react, she flushes, sending a rush of icy water over your body. Her laughter booms as she runs out of the bathroom, feet stomping.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” you scream, the cold shock making you jump. Determined not to give her what she wants, you stay in the shower, grumbling to yourself as Sevika giggles from your shared bed.

-

Later, you’re perched against your pillows, hair wrapped in a silk scarf, glasses on as you attempt to lose yourself in a mystery novel. Just as you set the book and glasses on the nightstand, Sevika waltzs into the room, a towel hanging loosely from her waist, her top bare, and her mech arm detached. She’s drying her damp hair with her remaining hand, muscles rippling with every movement. You can’t help but stare at her, crawling to the edge of the mattress and arching your back on purpose.

“Can you do me a favor—” she begins, but the words die in her throat when she turns to see you, a picture of desire and mischief, your eyes dark and hungry. Amused, she strides over and cups your face in her large hand, thumb brushing over your cheek as she leans in.

“Aw, do you forgive me?” she whispers, her lips brushing your forehead before placing a soft kiss there. You press your lips into a thin line reluctantly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Forget what I said about not getting laid tonight,” you smirk, teeth nipping at her palm. Her grip tightens slightly, the playful heat between you palpable.

“Then from someone who couldn’t seem to listen before…” she trails off, her towel slipping dangerously low on her hips. Her fingers find their way to where you like them the most, your mouth. She doesn't even have to tell you, so obedient as you open your mouth, tongue lolling out with a smile. She curses, a fucking minx you are. Stuffing her fingers in your mouth, you happily take them, licking and slightly sucking onto them. You can't help but shift in your arch, the heel of your foot finding your cunt as you grind into it. Your eyes flicker up at her, eyes low and a look of pure pleasure as you hum around them. Slipping them out of your mouth, it surprises you when she grips your jaw, lips puckering as your eyes go wide.

Her gaze softens as she sees the want in your eyes, her voice dropping to a husky murmur. “You’d better be ready to follow instructions, right, baby?”

a/n: finallllllllyyyyyyy i got the courage to write for sevika. i feel like when i write about an arcane character, im not doing it justice lol hence why i archived my pitfighter vi drabble oops. hope you like it bc i had fun writing it. inbox is always open

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Madri Lager: drunk words

Contents: cursing, just a little conversation between them to set the mood and provide a backdrop for the next fic, not proofread

No fucking way. 

There’s just no fucking way. 

“Why the hell are you here?” You hiss. 

Gojo fucking Satoru strolled into your lecture hall, smug grin on his fuck ugly face, arms folded behind his head and swinging his legs like a maniac. From the doors at the front, he immediately spotted you all the way at the back, sat by your lonesome and you could see his shit-eating grin widen. The whites of his teeth blind you almost as much as his impossibly white hair.

Then, the freak had the audacity to climb the stairs, ignoring the whispering and the pointing, and sat next to you. Well, a seat down because you refused to move your bag, even fought with him a little when he tried to lift it. 

He shrugs, slinging an arm around the back of the chair between you, fingertips way too close to your shoulder, and black sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge. “Was feeling bored so here I am.”

Counting to ten, you tried to put on a patient voice, like you’re berating a child, which you pretty much are, and you grit out, “Bored people take up hobbies. Bored people do things like puzzles and cooking and knitting. Bored people don’t crash lectures and bother other people.”

“I love when you lecture me on common knowledge, wifey. It really warms my heart.” To emphasise his stupid point, he presses a hand to his chest and fans his face with the other. “You’re just so smart.”

You slap his hand away when he tries to boop your nose. People are staring, turning their heads like owls as they strained to listen to your conversations. Some people are taking pictures, no doubt sending it to The Bulletin or whatever, because people have nothing better to do than gossip. You hate this attention; the pointing and whispering because of your appearance you’ve learnt to tolerate, but this? 

This is just irritating on a different level.

At least once a day, a cheerful stranger comes up to you and asks in bewilderment if you’re Gojo’s fiancee. In fact, they ask if you’re really, actually the future wife of Gojo Satoru like he’s some mythical being and you’re a frumpy little worm. Fuck them. And fuck him. 

“Go away, Gojo,” you roll your eyes, typing as much of the lecturer’s notes as you can, a little distracted by the peering eyes around you and the ones running over your clothes . 

He sighs and lifts the lace from your dress, rounding the neckline. You feel it tickle your neck, and you fight the urge to shudder. In disgust. With a forced melodramatic tone, he complains, “I’m bored. Entertain me.”

“Are you fucking twelve? Go watch a movie like a normal person.”

“Movies are boring,” he retorts as if it’s fact. 

You roll your eyes. “And what? I’m so much more interesting?” 

What a stupid question. You really shouldn’t have asked that because the serious expression on his face as he lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug makes you blush. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

“Did you meet Suguru on the course or was he your piercer first?”

Still typing, you throw him a side glance, feeling suspicious of the sudden change in conversation. But it’s welcomed. “We met on the course. First year. We were in the same class. He’s a good guy.”

Gojo huffs as if he didn’t like your answer. 

The piercer’s actually a decent person; he was friendly, smart, and kind. He made long, boring classes feel shorter with his interesting insights and opinions, and he had such a great way of expressing them — he was the most eloquent male you’ve ever met. However, there was always something off about him, like an inner turmoil that neither you nor he could ever quite understand. 

It was when he absentmindedly said he was thinking of dropping out that you felt you knew him a little better. You both shared a long talk at the back of the Life Sciences building where your little stroll took you, him smoking and you listening to his mutterings. He spoke of this feeling of being out of place, which you understood better than anyone else, and how the traditional path didn’t suit him. He disappeared for a while, a couple months, and you thought your response might have spooked him. After all, no one ever really comes to you for advice. But when he reached out to offer you a free piercing as his first ever client at his newly opened studio, you realised maybe you are capable of dropping an odd pearl here and there. 

“Well, Suguru’s my bestie, so back off,” Gojo pouts.

From your peripheral, you see him eye the big lecture hall and you don’t really know what he’s thinking. It’s an odd realisation to think that Geto, the guy you’ve always kind of admired, is actually friends with this loser – the suggestion that there’s a redeeming quality to the frat guy is one that doesn’t suit you. 

Most times he’s easy to read; he wants fun and excitement and thrill. He does whatever’s convenient or interesting, a totally impulsive guy. But there are rare moments, emphasis on rare, where you think there might be something more going on in that huge head of his. Maybe there’s something deeper to him. A maturity and wisdom he’s yet to show. 

“Fuck, marry or kill,” he lifts three fingers, “Marx, Satre or Aristotle.”

Yeah, unlikely. 

“Gojo, seriously, go away,” you sigh, exasperated. Just five minutes with the guy and you’re already drained. And somehow, you’re expected to live a lifetime with the weirdo?

Satan strike you down. 

“Me personally, Satre’s cute but something about big, bushy beards really gets me going. So, it’ll have to be: kill Aristotle, no offence dude, fuck Satre, and marry Marx.”

Two girls in the row in front of you giggle. Your lips turn down in repulsion. 

“I’m not sure Marx would like either of us, Gojo,” you give him a pointed look. 

He laughs. It’s loud and sudden and he has to say sorry to the entire lecture when it echoes around the hall. Some people laugh at him, or with him, and the lecturer can only shake his head and carry on. This lecturer is strict and merciless when it comes to interruptions, but of course he doesn’t say a thing against the interloper. How could he when there’s a huge placard over the double doors of this building titled ‘From the Loving Hearts of The Gojo Charitable Foundation’?

A couple minutes pass in relative silence, just the tapping of fingers against keyboards and the droning of the professor filling the space, and you think maybe he’s fallen asleep or maybe he’s so bored that he’s actually thinking of leaving. 

Of course, neither of those things happen because the universe hates you. 

Gojo pokes your side with a pen. You writhe with a blush. 

“Oh, ticklish, are we? Very interesting.” He wiggles his brows like an idiot, and you fight the urge to land a punch there. “Our wedding night’s gonna be fun.”

“We’re not going to have one if you had it your way, remember?”

Leaning back in his seat, he taps the pen —where the hell did even get that? He wasn’t carrying a bag— against his chin, considering his words carefully. He shrugs again. “Well, seeing as everyone’s so set on it, I’ve decided to, you could say, open myself to the idea.”

You try to quell the spark of hope there, that maybe your family could be saved, that you’ll be saved. It’s not wise to let that spark fester into something more. 

Gojo’s impulsive. Fact. 

Gojo’s a thrill-seeker. Fact. 

Gojo is an unserious guy set in his bachelor ways. He cannot be relied upon. He cannot be trusted to keep his word.

All facts. 

It’s easy for him to be able to have the option to be ‘open’ to an idea, whereas it’s thrusted upon you without much say. He can wake up and make decisions solely based on his urges, but you have to be mindful of the family’s reputation, your father’s bad habits, your mother’s social conservative ways, and the fact that this is all your fault. 

“Gojo,” you turn, fixing him with a solemn expression, “don’t do that. Don’t lead me on. I may not want to marry you, but I do want to marry. I must. It’s important to me, so please don’t wave it around like it’s some pretty flag.”

There must be something in your eyes, a graveness or a sombre quality that makes his smile disappear. His brows furrow like he’s trying to understand, trying to piece things together but you’re turning away before he could see. 

Clearing his throat, he pokes you again. “Alright. How about this?”

You throw him a doubtful look, worried about what dumbassery is going to leave his mouth. 

“Go on a date with me.”

“No.”

“Hey! You said that way too quickly.”

Resuming your typing, you’re already trying to drown him out, focused on the history of pragmatic ethics instead of his humoured tone. He’s suggesting something ridiculous again. As if you’d go on a date with him. Him. The guy who’s been getting in the way, the one who’s been making your life difficult and family dinners awkward, and the one you certainly cannot trust to not set up some trap to humiliate you like in the movies. 

“I’m being serious. Let’s go on a date.” Seeing you open your mouth to argue back, he hurriedly adds, “This isn’t fair on me either, y’know? I’m supposed to marry a stranger, one who wears all black and looks like she’d haunt me — not a bad thing, I’m actually kinda into it, question mark? — but my point is, we don’t really know each other. So why don’t we go on a date? It’s a pretty brilliant idea, if I do say so myself.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mull it over. Sure, it makes sense, it would be good to get to know the freak you’re marrying or supposed to marry. This is how it should have been in the first place. Plus, your mother would certainly approve; she’d think this is a golden opportunity to secure him, to make him fall for you or whatever Mrs. Bennet thing she’s thinking of. 

However, as good as that idea is, you can’t just eagerly agree; there’s no guarantee this isn’t a trap. 

“You’re thinking this is a trap, aren’t you?” Your eyes meet his. He’s grinning ear to ear like he’s proud he guessed correctly. “Why don’t you plan the date, then? Set the time and place, that way there’s no way I could have rigged the environment with explosives or something.”

“No pig blood?”

Gojo smiles even brighter, and you have to squint to prevent losing your vision permanently. 

“No pig blood.”

[traveler-at-heart]

Sister, wife?

Summary: The team mistakes you for Natasha's sister when you first meet.

Request by @lynattyx

Loki again.

Thor seemed more annoyed than anyone else, but that was only logical. He had spent centuries putting up with his brother.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. Siblings can be a pain” Natasha tried to comfort him, while he looked ready to release a storm over Loki outsmarting him and escaping.

“Speaking from experience, Red?” Stark asked with a curious stare.

“Got a sister” Natasha shrugged her shoulders, looking out the window of the Quinjet as if she hadn’t said anything interesting.

“Really? What’s her name?” Steve said, intrigued.

“I won’t tell you, because if I say it three times you’ll summon her. That’s a reference from…”

“Yeah, I got it” Steve nodded. “I didn’t really like that Beetlejuice”

“That’s because you hate fun” Tony said, stepping forward. “Alright, we have a signal. Anyone up for a cigar? Loki’s close to Cuba”

—

“Lay low. That’s pretty much all you can do now” Maria said with a somber tone over the comms.

Loki had gone a little too far this time, almost getting half of Havana blown up.

Needless to say, the US wasn’t happy with the diplomatic mess the Avengers had created. Maybe that was Loki’s plan all along; make it impossible for them to go after him with the American government on their backs.

Well, he got what he wished for.

“I don’t suppose we can go to the Compound, then” Tony mumbled. “Barton, Red? Any ideas?”

“Coordinates are set. We’ll be there in a few hours. Try to get some sleep. All of you”

No one was in the mood to ask questions. If Natasha said it was a safe place, then they’d take her word for it and be done with the matter.

“You sure about this?” Clint said, looking at her from the copilot seat.

“Yeah. She’ll just give me a hard time for not telling her in advance. You know how she likes to have everything extra clean when there are guests”

“How did you manage to score such a gal?” he joked and Natasha glared at him.

“Hey, I’m a catch. My mac and cheese is delicious”

“Whatever you say, Tasha”

—

The Quinjet landed, and the only way you could tell was by the tree branches moving with a sudden gust of wind.

“Hey” Natasha said with a coy smile, going up the steps as the rest of the team got off the jet, looking around curiously.

“Welcome home” you pulled her into a hug. “Should have told me they were coming, and I could have cleaned up a bit”

“I missed you too” she joked against your ear, and as she was about to lean and kiss you, Tony interrupted the moment.

“Hey, Romanoff and Romanoff”

“You must be Tony. I’ve heard a lot about you”

“Have you? Because Natasha here didn’t tell us much about you”

“She was probably worried about you running your mouth” you joked, making him smirk.

“You have heard about me”

As Steve walked in, Natasha waited for Clint to show him something she wanted to fix in the garage.

The house was big and in the middle of a little wooded area.

“You’re gonna have to share rooms. And someone will sleep on the couch” you warned them.

“Not it” Tony said, as you pulled out a pillow and a blanket from the closet.

“I’ll take the couch” Steve offered, which of course he did. “Thank you…”

“Y/N” you nodded, waiting for Tony to follow you.

“Barton? Thor?” he looked around.

“Oh, Clint’s probably scolding Natasha because she didn’t fix the ceiling like he told her to” you laughed. “Thor flew away like thirty seconds after landing. And burned part of my lawn in the process”

“So sorry about that. It’s quite the thing to hang out with these brutes. So, uh, what do you do?”

“I’m a Psychiatrist” you answered, opening the door to the guest room.

“Get to see Natasha a lot?”

“Not as much as I’d like”

“Come by the Compound anytime you like. I’ll send you a pass or shall I just say your name three times?”

“What?” you tilted your head in confusion.

“Nothing. Thanks for letting us crash” he rubbed his neck.

“Sure. Get some rest”

You ran into Clint as he went upstairs, knowing his way around the house.

“She’s outside”

“Is she… is she ok?” you said, sighing. It was one thing to see it in the news, and another one to know she was out there risking her life against literal Gods and aliens.

“Just tired” he assured you. “Seeing you will help. Have a good night”

“You too. Sorry to say you’re sharing a room with Tony”

“Ah, jeez” he groaned, making you laugh.

Steve was lying in the couch, restless. He waved at you shyly as you walked out, knowing Natasha was waiting in the porch.

Honestly? They were a nice bunch.

“Hey” you said, stepping out.

“Hi, detka”

“You ok?” you said, leaning your chin against her shoulder, with your arms around her waist.

“Just tired”

“Funny, that’s exactly what Clint said”

Natasha chuckled at that, squeezing your hands.

“He knows me”

“I know you better”

“Do you, now?” she turned around, quirking up an eyebrow and smiling at you. “So, what do you think I want right now?”

“Cuddles with your wife and then tomorrow morning I think you’ll be in the mood for blueberry pancakes and hot cocoa”

“Damn, you do know me well” she laughed, kissing your temple. “Come on, let’s go to bed”

—

You were up next morning, and unsurprisingly, Steve had already been out and running a good ten miles.

“The rest?” he said after greeting you.

“Clint got up early to fix what Natasha broke trying to fix the other thing that broke, God bless his soul. Tony’s asleep and so is Nat”

“Really? Even Romanoff? She’s up at break of dawn”

“Nah, not when she’s home. Now clean yourself up, breakfast is almost done”

“Yes, Ma’am”

Natasha was the first one down, as your room had a private bathroom. By the sounds from upstairs, you suspected the boys were arguing over who go to use the other restroom first.

“Hear that sound? Children. Ready for all that?” Natasha said.

“Yeah, but ours will be cute. And we’ll make Clint build another bathroom” you said, getting a pancake out of the pan.

“You’re so smart, that’s why I love you”

“Only that?” you said, laughing as you felt her hands go around your waist.

“Among other things”

You turned around to protest, but her lips stopped you from saying anything.

“I did miss this” she said, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. You moaned against her mouth, forgetting there were more people in the house until you heard Tony slam the door to the bathroom. Natasha went to get some coffee, and you wished she’d kept kissing you.

But the teasing would be endless if they caught you in the middle of it.

“Bathroom's all yours, Cap! Morning, Romanoffs”

“Morning, Tony” you said. “Help yourself to some pancakes and coffee”

“Delicious, thank you”

Steve came down a few minutes later, at the same time Clint walked in, announcing that he had fixed the thing.

“You’re a hero” you said, grateful. “Don’t worry, darling, you’ll get it right next time” you added as Natasha pouted.

“Mean”

“It comes with the territory, doesn’t it?” Tony said. “Including all the hair pulling and slapping and fighting for bras”

“Ah, what?” you said, confused.

“Hey, don’t speak to my wife that way, asshole” Natasha slapped the back of his head, making him choke on his coffee.

“Did you just say wife?” he turned to look between the two of you.

“Yes, Y/N is my wife. Who did you think she was?”

“The maid?” you joked.

“The sister!” Tony looked at Steve for backup.

“Well, to be fair… yeah”

“My sister’s name is Yelena” Natasha said, massaging her temples. “Y/N and I have been married for almost two years now. And I didn’t want you to know because you’ll be insufferable about it”

“Babe, they’ve been good so far” you chuckled, squeezing her hand.

“We can behave, honey boo” Tony said.

“Ok, yeah. I get it now” you rolled your eyes.

“Either way, you’re coming to our party” Tony said, poruing himself more coffee.

“When is it?”

“Whenever we get our hands on that Asgardian bastard”

“Language” you said at the same time as Steve.

“This is gonna be fun” Tony laughed, looking at you over his cup of coffee. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Romanoff”

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Is That A Promise? (Venom One-Shot)

Eddie Brock x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Telling you about Venom does not go entirely how Eddie planned.

CW: mentions of monster fucking, Eddie is oblivious and a dumbass (I think I have a type)

Venom Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You’d known Eddie Brock a good while by this point. You’d started dating him a while back, and while he put others on edge, you’d found the way he talked to himself out loud rather charming, actually. 

At first, you weren’t sure if he was just unmedicated, or undiagnosed. But then the news broke about the symbiote, and then there was the footage. And when Eddie started coming home right after news broke of some other attack or taking out of a bad guy or criminal or whoever, you’d put two and two together. 

It was kind of hard not to. Particularly as his conversations with himself could vary from topic to topic in the span of six words or less.

 

Eddie had asked to meet up for lunch today at your favourite restaurant. He’d seemed a bit off on the phone, and given how prone you were to anxiety, your immediate thought had been that he was breaking up with you and that you’d done something to upset him or his bodily guest- who you did not officially know about, of course. 

You’d gotten there early to prepare yourself for whatever shitshow was about to follow and to your immense surprise, Eddie had shown up pretty much right after you. Eddie was always running late, so this change in pace was also mildly concerning. You were not sure how this was going to go and you did not like that one bit. 

“You’re here early, too,” Eddie had said, swallowing thickly and avoiding eye contact. You nodded, and cleared your throat, gesturing for him to sit down at the table opposite you. 

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure we had a spot,” you replied, smoothing down your shirt. Bit of a nervous habit. That and ripping at your nails, but that was beside the point. 

“Right,” Eddie replied. 

And then the two of you lapsed into silence. You spent a good five to ten minutes appearing to read over the menu as if this wasn’t a regular spot for you and you didn’t know exactly what you were going to order. In fact, you’d be surprised if the cooks weren’t already making it up for you even though a waiter hadn’t come over yet. 

“Shut up,” Eddie hissed quietly. You peered over the menu to eye him curiously, one brow arced in question. 

“I didn’t say anything, Eddie.” 

“Yeah, I know. I- uh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You hummed, and put the menu down to give him your attention. 

“About me shutting up?” 

“No- God, this is not going at all like I planned.” Eddie rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. 

You said nothing, waiting patiently for him to work out his wording.

 

“I really like you,” he started, and you nodded, replying with the same sentiment. “And, well, there’s something I’ve been hiding from you.”

 

“Right…” This is where you expected him to tell you he was married (doubtful but not impossible) or had cancer or something terrible. Dear God, please no. 

“Look- you’ve seen on the news, yes, the, uh- the attacks. Yeah?” 

You nod. Ah, so he was finally telling you about his friend living literally rent-free in his body. Okay, you could relax a little. 

“He’s me. Venom, he lives in my body. He’s in my head. Like, all the time. Right now.” 

Eddie looked at the table where he was picking at the tablecloth. You were silent for a second, and Eddie clearly took that to mean you were horrified or disgusted or something. You were a little nervous about it, sure, but you’d also been living with him for the last few months. If Venom was planning to take you out, he would have done so by now, surely. You figured this to mean you were safe enough. You’d also seen your fair share of monster porn, so you weren’t exactly unkeen on the idea of dating someone who sometimes had a monster body. It was kind of hot, actually. You shook the thought out of your head and tried to focus.

“Oh, yeah- I knew about that,” you replied, and the way Eddie’s head snapped towards you was almost comical. 

“You what?”

 

“Yeah, I figured that out a while ago. I was just waiting for you to tell me in your own time.”

 

Eddie blinked, and a black residue appeared on the back of his hand. It swirled and gathered on his hand before reaching for you delicately. You met it, brushing your finger over it softly. The goop (for lack of a better word) seemed to shiver pleasurably and you smiled.

 

“Can I meet him later?” 

Eddie nodded, watching the interaction with disbelief. He’d thought that you’d go running and screaming through the doors or something, not be rubbing your fingers over Venom like you were fingering some Play-Doh. 

“Y-yeah, later,” he agreed. “Not here. When we get home.”

 

You grinned and the black substance retreated back into Eddie’s skin as a waiter appeared by your table. 

“What can I get for you? The regular?” 

You looked at Eddie and clicked your tongue thoughtfully. 

“The usual with a serving of chicken nuggets on the side, please.”

 

The waiter nodded, scribbled it own on his pad and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. Eddie looked at you in question. He knew you weren’t big on nuggets. 

“They’re for Venom,” you explained, propping your head up on your palm. Eddie looked to the side as if listening to something carefully. 

“Venom says thank you-” Eddie said before cutting himself as Venom said something else in his head. “No, I’m not saying that. No. No.” 

“Say what?”

Eddie sighed defeatedly- something you think he did a lot when it came to Venom. 

“Venom said he could kiss you right now.” Eddie looked mortified as the words left his mouth. You burst into laughter. 

“Is that a threat or a promise? I hope it’s a promise,” you replied, wiggling your eyebrows at the two of them. 

Eddie swallowed thickly and blushed as Venom said something else. You’d have to see if Venom could swap hosts sometime. It would be nice to have a conversation while out and about like that. 

“Promise,” Eddie replied. 

Good.

[gravegoer]

i need royal blood part 2 pleasssseee UAGUHDUAHD

Royal Blood — 🜲

i personally love this AU and i hope you guys do too.. for some ODD reason i havent gotten many asks about it but here u guys go summary: sevika helps u get ready for your ball, and a little jealousy

masterlist , part 1

It had been around a week since the night Sevika basically cradled you to sleep. Unfortunately, you didn't see her around much, feeling a bit lonelier without her presence to keep you company.

It's possible she felt guilty for having her hands all over the princess, thinking it's not her place. But in reality, she was just trying her best to resist you. She kept herself busy with mundane and useless tasks, but still hovering close enough to keep an eye on you.

And your plans for her didn't make it much easier for her to hold back.

During the week that your parents were absent on a trip, they had reluctantly allowed you to host a ball. Seeing as this was the perfect way to prove to your parents that you were capable of being responsible you had to insure everything went as planned.

You had your butler customize invitations and send them to a select few noble families. Even though you would have much rather invited your average friends, ruckus had to be avoided, and your friends would most likely cause more trouble than they intend.

Now it was the morning of the big day, despite your mind being set on Sevika the whole morning you had managed to pull yourself out of bed, still in your nightgown, and go downstairs.

As always breakfast was waiting for you on the table, you internally thanked the chef as you dug into your meal, savoring the flavors. The large window in front of you showcased the front of your castle, Sevika stood outside, simply watching passerbyers as if suspecting each and every one.

You laughed to yourself at how seriously she took her job, wondering what was on her mind. You set your plate aside and strode to the double doors to take a breath of fresh air (talk to Sevika).

You emerged, and the cold stone of the stairs nipped at your bare feet. She shot you a questioning look before you spoke, “So.. the ball is today”

“I know, i'll be on guard duty.”

You scoffed at her seriousness, “Really? This is my big day, and you aren't even going to show up. You've been cold this week.”

She sighed and her shoulders seemed to slump a bit, “Apologies, is there anything you want?”

“Yes!” You groaned, “Just— can you at least help me get ready tonight?”

She cocked an eyebrow at your question, “Isn’t that what your personal maid is for?”

“Well– I need help picking something to wear, and my maid is supposed to be bias. She will like anything i do, and you’d tell me the truth right?”

Sevika nodded, giving in a bit.

“Great! I admire your honesty, truely. Join me in my quarters tonight at 6:00.”

Before she could protest you were stepping back inside all giddy. It seemed you would finally get some time to yourself with Sevika. I mean she couldn't deny an order, Right?

..

Right.

Sevika showed up to your door at exactly 6:00 PM, punctual as always. You greeted her with a smile, now changed into a different stay-at-home outfit. You had been lounging around your room for most of the day while waiting for Sevika to arrive.

The balcony door in your room was open, and there were books strewn about your bed. She shook her head at your carelessness and walked over to the balcony, pulling the door shut.

“You know anyone could come in through there right?” She stated sternly.

“To my balcony on the second floor?” You laughed, "Whatever you say, I guess you're the boss around here."

She let out a small laugh that could be mistaken for a scoff and turned to your quite large closet, motioning for you to open it. You pulled the doors open to reveal your plethora of dresses and other garments. Sevika sighed at the fullness as you started to push around the dresses, looking for a color you liked.

After some time, you held up two dresses, and Sevika cringed at them, “That one isn’t fit for a ball, and that one is just—” You groaned, interrupting her.

“You said you were looking for honest, not biased.”

Shaking your head you dove back into the clothes, hands emerging with a beautifully embroidered dress, and another that was similar in style with a low V neckline. Sevika looked contemplative for a moment before motioning to the changing divider, “Try them on for me.”

You crossed your arms, “Well, I cant put them on myself, I need help with the corset.”

You said this like it was common sense, but Sevika looked at you incredulously, not expecting you to ask for something like that from her. She grabbed the corset that was on the ground and the second dress from your hand, “Okay, lets get this over with.”

..

"Fuck, Sevika its too tight," you grunted, hands gripping onto the back of a wooden chair.

Sevika had a knee between your legs, roughly pulling at the strings of a white corset. You were just about to be pulled back by her strength if it wasn't for her leg holding you in place.

"Why the fuck would you put yourself through this," she mumbled through gritted teeth.

You yelped in response, and she finally opted to finish tugging and tied it diligently in the back. Breathing a sigh of relief, you slumped forward on the chair, pushing further into Sevikas leg.

Her hands found your waist before she teasingly asked, "Tight enough?"

You nodded, somewhat annoyed with her sarcastic tone, and grabbed the dress that was on the seat of the chair. Sevika backed up and looked away to try and give you even an ounce of privacy as you tugged it over your head.

The dress hugged your curves in the torso and fell around your legs perfectly, with not too much poof and just enough embroidery. It touched the floor and covered your feet, trailing elegantly with you.

Sevika almost gawked at the sight, most definitely eyeing the V neck of the dress. She was glad she picked it.

"You look ready for a ball," she smirked.

"Aww, that's all you have to say?" You giggled, twirling around.

The small twinkle in your eye made her swoon, and she laid a hand on your waist, "You look beautiful, princess."

You smiled at her action, feeling the gentleness from that night return. It's like you broke down her walls in a second, with nothing but a mere look. You all but pried her hand from your waist, flitting over to your vanity.

Grabbing a clip and a comb, you motioned for Sevika to follow you.

"You know I can't do hair, don't push your luck with me. The corset was as far as I'll go," she crossed her arms as if she were putting a foot down.

"No, silly, let me do yours. If you won't dress up for my ball, this is the least you can do," You giggled, pushing her down into your plush vanity stool.

It creaked under her weight, and she sighed but made no further protests. You could see her eyeing you in the mirror, having little faith in your ability. But you just smiled and got to work.

Taking her small bun out, you brushed the small knots and tangles out of her dark hair. It was soft and shiny between your fingers. You admired the deep smell of her shampoo mixed in with her natural scent.

Then, you pulled it up into the same half updo, but instead of tying it with a rubber, you inserted a silver clip in its place. The clip matched her metal arm perfectly, with just the slightest touch of regalness, to show it was yours.

You held a mirror to the back of her head, showing her your work so that she could view it from the mirror in front of her. "It's pretty right?"

Sevika squinted at it in the mirror, bringing a flesh hand up to touch it gently. "Yeah, too pretty for me."

You scoffed and pushed her head gently, "Nonsense, it's just right. As a matter of fact, keep it."

And this would be your first gift to her. The first among many.

She snorted, "I can't deny a gift from the princess"

Looking at the small clock on your vanity, it read: 7:12.

Fuck.

It started in less than 10 minutes. You hurriedly pulled Sevika out of your stool and checked your makeup and hair in the mirror. She smirked at your worriedness and silently held out an arm for you to take.

You turned around to her, eyeing her arm before gently wrapping your hands around it, looking at her to gauge a reaction. But she walked you to your doors, opening them for you with one hand.

You smiled, realizing her intentions, she was going to walk you out in front of all those people. I mean, it was appropriate, right? It's normal for your personal guard to walk you out, only a safety precaution.

..

Well atleast thats what you told yourself as Sevika walked you down the grand staircase right into the party. People gawked at the sight of their princess, admiring the sight of your beautiful dress, others were staring at something— or rather someone else.

Sevika contrasted your appearance greatly. She stood menacingly at your side, glaring at anyone that shot confused glances. Her rough scarred skin opposed the softness of your exposed flesh. Your delicately jeweled fingers were wrapped around her thick arm as she helped you maneuver down the carpeted stairs.

You let her arm go so that you could start greeting your guests. Your servents had put together a grand ball, tables of food and wine were placed intricately, decorated with jars of flowers and other miscellaneous things.

Women complemented your dress while you shook hands with their husbands, offering some wine or water. You were on your best behavior, making sure your guests would report back to your parents talking about how respectful and polite you were.

A tall woman with dark skin approached you, her white dress with gold accessories glimmered in your eyes. She was positively beautiful.

You introduced yourself, "Hello, im glad you could make it tonight. Your dress is striking."

She smiled kindly at your remark, "It's so nice to finally meet you, princess, let me introduce myself," She took your hand and brought it to her supple lips, "I am Mel Medarda."

Your cheeks flushed, "Well, it's a pleasure."

When you finished the pleasantries, you turned to see Sevika glaring at you and Mel from her position in front of the door, taking over for one of the guards. Excusing yourself from the conversation, you made your way to the other side of the room. After swerving through groups of people, avoiding small talk and sending small waves, you finally got to her.

She watched you the whole way over, but decided to look away the second you approached her. Tapping on her arm you cleared your throat, "Ahem, your princess would like a word with you."

She raised her eyebrow, turning her gaze back to you, "Its not appropriate for the princess to be speaking to a worker during an event."

You laughed off her coldness, "Why are you looking at me so intensely then," You started circling her like a predator to its prey, "You wanted my attention?"

She smirked at your playfulness but shook her head, "Just seeing you interact with others is.. odd."

"Jealous?" You teased, knowing she most likely only thought this because she always saw you cooped up at home.

But to your suprise, her stern demeanor fumbled a bit, brows furrowing and eyes widening.

"No. Get back to your duties, we've been speaking for too long, people are staring."

If she wouldn't admit it, you'd make her.

i do plan on making a part 3 ! but im going to be working on some shorter fics + hcs so i have time to release the beauty and the beast fic :)

taglist: @thequeenreaders @hangezoes-wife @thesecondhandwoman @slut4sevika @kylorey25 @archangeldyke-all

comment or ask to be added <33

[lolapiastri]

hands | l. norris

warnings: the smuttiest, horniest smut ever bc i'm feeling some type of way, it's complete filth

author's note: absolutely no excuse for this, i will take myself down the stairs to hell

"fuck," he muttered under his breath, eyes widening as he watched his hands wrap around your throat.

your breathing sped up as your airway was slowly cut off, the cold silver of lando's rings pressing against your throat sending shockwaves straight to your core. your pupils were so large they were almost your whole iris, fixed on your boyfriend's hand through batting eyelashes. you were sat on his lap, thighs either side of his hips, pressed against him as his other hand pushed an escaped strand of hair back behind your ear.

he squeezed harder, causing your breath to hitch as you grinded against lando's crotch involuntarily, causing an attempt at a moan to leave your mouth. desperation and lust were the only things on your mind right now, added to as lando's spare hand cupped your jaw.

his index finger traced over your features, sliding over your cheek before swiping on your lips. you let him do whatever he wanted, pulling on your bottom lip until he could see your teeth. he let out a shallow scoff at how willing you were to please, how you were just taking all this. your hips couldn't stop their sporadic movements, moving in tandem with lando's squeezes against your neck.

"you like being choked, huh?" his tone was degrading, with a half laugh behind it.

he took his index finger and pushed past your lips, pressing down on your tongue as he entered your mouth. tongue wrapping around it without thinking, you began to suck, imagining it was his cock instead.

all lando could do was stare. "acting like a slut, aren't you?"

you whined in response as lando added his middle finger, pushing them right to the back of your throat as you choked around them. that wasn't good enough for lando though, as he tutted at your actions.

"i asked you a question, and i expect you to answer," he stated, giving your neck another tight squeeze. "you're a slut, aren't you?"

you attempted to respond to his question, but your answer was incoherent through lando's fingers, instead just a muffle of sounds.

"what was that?" he asked, teasing tone that caused you to almost cry with frustration, trying to answer him again to no avail. "god, not only are you a slut, you're fucking braindead. a braindead cockslut, only good for sucking dick and nothing else, huh?"

you shook your head frantically, but of course, frantic head shakes and whines were not good enough for your boyfriend.

"quiet down, now," he grunted, and you obeyed, staying silent as he removed his fingers from your mouth and dragged them down your face, holding your mouth opening before leaning over you, and spitting in your mouth.

the act was so dirty, so filthy, yet so indescribably attractive and you swallowed immeadiately, earning a slight smile from your boyfriend before both hands removed themselves from your body. you took deep breaths into your lungs, recovering from the restricted airflow you had been receiving, with your eyes never leaving lando's hands.

you grabbed them with your own, and started placing open mouthed kisses down his fingers, wet and sloppy as your mouthed at his skin. his eyes never left you, and blood shot straight to his core, his length growing underneath you.

"god, you love my hands," it was a statement, really, to himself, but you couldn't help but hum against his skin in agreement. "are you a slut for my hands?"

"yes," you mumbled against his skin, finally following his wishes for the first time that night. "want them inside me, please."

and who would he be to deny you such pleasure.

[animamii]

lockedup!toji lovessss receiving letters from you. 💌

"Fushiguro, you got mail," one of the corrections officers would knock on his open cell door. Toji always had this smirk tugging at his lips when the guard said those words. Although it was only a mask for the thrum he felt in his heart. He would always be handed a nice little stack of letters, all from you. The envelopes would be different colors, pinks and reds and purples. You'd really put a lot of effort into these [mostly love] letters. Even going as far as buying the cutest stamps you could find. He would never admit it out loud—he'd rather choke— but Toji loves when you put those cute little Hello Kitty stamps on the letters. Toji didn’t seem like the type to care for stuff like that, but those letters? Oh, they meant everything.

His name would be written in your cute handwriting, Toji Fushiguro with a little heart next to it. Flipping over the letter, you'd alway put a cute sticker over the seal. Or a heart if you couldn't find a sticker you'd like. He never rushed to open them, though; instead, he’d take his time, flipping through the envelopes, savoring the sight of your adorable scribbles. Toji loved the scent of them, always smelling like the spritz of perfume you'd put on the paper (thank you for the idea, Grease). He loved it just as much as the lipstick kisses you'd put on every blank space of the envelope and letter. Even if you weren't much of a lipstick user, you made sure to keep some different shades in stock so you can send Toji kisses through the mail.

It was the highlight of his day, pulling open the envelope with a rare softness in his usually rough hands. Always being ever so careful not to rip the envelope or the sticker you so thoughtfully sealed it with. He’d sit on the edge of his cot, back resting against the cold cement wall, eyes scanning over your handwriting. Every curve of your letters, every word you wrote, he soaked in every little thing. You wrote about every little thing; what you ate, what you listened to, what you watched. Your little girlish gossip. Toji preferred to read multiple pages of you rambling on about whatever came to your pretty little head. Made him feel like he was with you again, sitting there babbling to him like you always did.

After reading through one of your letters for the first time, Toji would lean back, holding the paper loosely in his hand, a rare softness washing over his sharp features. His lips would curl faintly at the edges, almost like he could hear your voice through the words on the page. He’d trace over your little doodles in the corners—the hearts, the smiley faces, even the exaggerated stick figure versions of you and him. Toji wasn’t a sentimental man by nature, but these small things? They clawed their way into the part of his chest he thought was hardened long ago. Sometimes, the other inmates would glance his way, curious about what kept the infamous Fushiguro so quiet. He’d shoot them a glare that said, Mind your own damn business. No one dared ask questions.

Toji had a little ritual for your letters. After reading through them, he’d carefully fold them, put it back in its respective envelope, and tuck them into his pillowcase. It wasn’t much, but it kept them close to him, right where he could feel that connection even when he wasn’t holding the paper. Later, when the lights dimmed and the prison settled into its eerie quiet, he’d pull one out again, holding it under the faint glow of the moonlight seeping through the bars. It didn’t matter if it was the same letter he read last week or one you’d just sent—it still carried that same warmth.

"Y’know," he muttered to himself one night, voice low enough not to carry. "You’re making me soft, sweetheart." But he didn’t really mind. Those letters gave him something to look forward to, something worth counting down the days for.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

y'all I wanna write more drabbles like thiss. Also I'm thinking... maybe some letters from Toji himself? Or from reader? both?? o.O lemme know bebecitas I wanna write what y'all wanna read!! xoxo

taglist ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ @psoycy (aka my favee)

[acid-ixx]

I have a question, well 2 questions to be exact that’s been rattling around in my head since I started reading platonic yandere batfam fics, why would reader stay in Gotham? I’d be sneakily stealing as much money as I could without getting caught as soon as I reach a “fuck these guys” mentality. Like, asking to have some money for groceries or something and just pocketing it so that I could get a bus ticket and leave the city. Would you do it if you were reader? It just makes sense to me “this place sucks, these people suck, I’ve gotten enough to leave”, this is with me assuming that reader has the means of course, if the reader doesn’t then okay, yeah that makes sense

And my second question, do you ever feel resentful towards Alfred when you read batfam photonic yandere content? I do sometimes, especially when the reader is neglected. I know this might sound odd but when I read these fics I recognize that Alfred could do more, out of everyone in the manner, I think Alfred’s word carries the most weight, especially with Bruce due to him raising Bruce. I also notice in some batfam fics that the reader doesn’t get mad at him due to him giving them attention, but idk it feels kinda like a slap to the face, knowing that I don’t have the power but he does and yet not exercising it until I’ve burned every last tie to that family.

I know my thoughts are a more “well you’re on the outside looking in” type takes, but idk, it hurts my heart knowing that if reader stays in that city, it will be far more easier for the batfam to find them, where if they were outside the city, they’d have a fighting chance to make a new life for themselves

On a side note, I think we are underutilizing the angst potential of reader legally changing their name and the batfam not knowing until months or even years later when reader leaves. Like Bruce and the fam would just have to sit and realize that reader hates/dislikes/doesn’t care about them enough to legally change their name from Wayne to whatever reader chooses. Jason was Batman’s greatest failure, but Reader would be Bruce’s greatest failure, and what a delightful public failure it would be if the tabloids were to somehow find out that one of Bruce Wayne’s biological children changed their legal name

I’m loving your batfam content btw, like it makes me want to create one of those “screw therapy, I need to fist fight my dad” tiktoks and tag Bruce Wayne, that’s what I can phenomenal writing!! And sorry for making this so long! Hope you have a great existence!

slight spoilers for future chapters.

this is one of my favorite asks... anon, you are so brilliant because your two questions tie into the reader's character so well and the flaws that they (you) conjured from years of neglect, so i hope my answers would suffice (i am answering based on the perspective of the reader from my series: again & again with a bit of my own perspective). tysm for sending this in, i actually really enjoy long asks and appreciate it when people take the time to send me these things!

why would the reader stay in gotham?

chapter one wasn't all the detailed about why they stayed in gotham. firstly, their self-worth had them reason that in no way, shape, or form would their family that basically estranged them would come running to them, especially not when the only time the reader could even stumble across them is by some miracle of coincidence. this also ties into their lack of knowledge about their family. sure, they know that babs is the oracle but do they know just how much access she has across gotham? not really. they know tim, like bruce, has a tendency to collect information about other people, but they don't know that they have contingency plans to be creeped out enough to get away from gotham and from their reach.

"it's not like tim or bruce or barbara considered you important enough to be stalked. hah, as if!"

and the third point is, despite bruce being a billionaire of some sort, it was stated that the reader was too well-behaved and quiet. how does this make sense? as you've stated, they wouldn't simply have the means to get out. seeing as they were sheltered by alfred and never really explored the concept of traveling far away, they never asked for money; the only advantage of being a wayne is having quite a lot of things served on a silver platter.

they have this sort of toxic bond for staying with the people who have hurt them and it materialized to them physically staying despite knowing it would only cause more pain than anything else, and they don't know that. plus, they'd rather not have the wayne name associated with them and getting money from cheques or credit cards would be too risky for the reader's safety.

they've only realized just how shitty their family is after more than 10-13 years of staying in the manor, and saving up to move to an entirely different place would be difficult, alongside college and the jobs they have to take. so the next best thing they could do is rely on any means of advantage they could get whilst also moving on to the path of self-discovery and recovery.

but that doesn't mean they're staying in gotham forever, definitely not. the moment the reader realizes that dick gained some sort of interest towards them, they're booking it out of gotham. preferably to metropolis or central city or even somewhere far, far away— they're naive, but not stupid. sudden interest towards them means danger rather than anything else. and they're aware that alfred is capable enough to pull strings, so that's why spoiler alert: they have a secret stash of money hidden somewhere and like any children of bruce, they inherited the capability to be smart enough to already back up their contacts and everything on their phone, buy a burner phone and even change their entire identity in one quick go right after they move into an entirely different city or country.

gotham is merely their practice course.

do you ever feel resentment towards alfred?

quite frankly, yes. the reader in the fic feels resentment towards everyone for a reason actually, but alfred's part was stated vaguely as to not spoil a future chapter that focuses on his perspective. they know that he has the more power inside the manor more than bruce has. everyone, and i mean everyone respects alfred, and it doesn't take a genius to know that if you mess with him, you're messing with an entire family of crime fighters.

it's not obvious, but the reader's narrative in chapter one is them trying so hard to delude themself into thinking things can be better until it's too late. so in a sense, there's false narrative coming into play.

"alfred would be too busy sometimes to attend your school ceremonies because he had to assist bruce with missions. of course, you understood his priorities. after all, he tried his hardest to make you feel less lonely inside the mansion, it wasn't enough but he was there at least."

at some point in time, alfred had also neglected the reader emotionally with the same reasoning as the others; he was busy with their father. and this all could've been avoided if alfred had tried to confront the entire family about it. i'm not delving deeper into this to really avoid spoilers other than pointing out some details in the first chapter.

just know that alfred relishes in your newfound favoritism towards him, and that he may or may not have pulled some strings himself from helping you become closer to the family.

the part about reading changing their name from (name) wayne to (name) (last name) is what made me so drawn to this ask. you have pretty much predicted one of the chapters that explored (name) wayne to the public eye. they're not so much of an internet celebrity because of their rare appearances in public, but that's what causes immense curiosity about their identity to uprise in gotham, and their fame was one of the means to get to you.

there was one news article published that was the reason that made bruce distant towards you.

but let's focus on what yan! bruce would've felt once he turns a full 360.

because the first thing he would do once he has you in his grasp is to change your last name back to his. you are not the child of a (last name), you are a wayne first and foremost, bruce's third child and his greatest mistake, quite literally. you were a product of a one-night-stand, and because he was drowning in despair from jason's death, he had failed to notice you. all his years of neglect, and he doesn't even know a single thing about you, simply because he refused to acknowledge your presence.

and you rightfully hated him, he should've accepted that. but your diary entries and the way you innocently thought of him destroyed any sliver of hope for a peaceful reconciliation. he hates how you were experiencing the same type of despair as him when it comes to battling your own monsters— you truly are a wayne at heart. he couldn't afford to let you get away any further. just like dick, he needs to fix it now or further sever the already broken ties you have with him.

it's not batman now, but rather bruce. bruce wayne had failed to save another one of his children, not as a vigilante, but as a father.

knowing bruce, he's quick to take into action and search for you.

holy shit, this is a really long post but i hope it does answer the questions ! im so grateful that you like my writing enough to write a really long ask, and i hope to see your messages more once the new chapters are published <3

[district4loading]

Under My Spell

Kiss of Life Belle x Male Reader

5K Words

Content Warning: smut, hypnosis, use of handcuffs, praise, a little bit of degrading

Minors DNI

A/N: I got the request to do this almost a month ago but back then I was really busy and I had other requests to get to first. Now that my writers block is partially gone, I'm ready to write and work on everything else I've been requested. This was supposed to come out two days ago but I ended up getting sick and I couldn't finish it lmao.

This is my first time writing something like this, I know I probably got some aspects of it wrong so just vibe yeah? Hope you guys enjoy this one!!

The request: "would you be open to writing a smut about hypnosis? like where the reader and idol decide to try out hypnosis?"

-

Maybe hypnosis is real

-

You're laying in bed when she brings it up.

She just came back from the nail salon, her purse slides off of her arm and onto the dresser when she asks you "Babe, what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?" She peels herself out of her denim jacket, the one you bought her recently that she called 'ugly.' You fail to mention it though because you begin to question the context of her inquiry.

"Probably like... bondage stuff" You look up from your phone, "Where's this coming from?"

Belle only begins to strip herself of the remainder of her clothing before muttering "I'll get to that." You watch as she throws the worn garments to the side before digging through the dresser for something more comfortable "Wouldn't you find it hot to have complete and utter control over someone, tell them to do something and they're on it with no hesitation or thought behind it" She steps into a pair of shorts "No matter what you ask, they do it mindlessly"

You tilt your head, trying to follow wherever she's going with this. There's a smile on her face but it's not just any smile, it tells you that she's testing the waters, trying to gauge whether or not you were into whatever the hell she was getting at now. "I mean... I guess? I'm not sure"

"You guess?" She gives you a look before pulling an old, loose black t-shirt over her head. She then crawls into bed and you're not surprised when you find her straddling your waist with her hands snaking underneath your shirt. "So... you wouldn't mind putting me under your spell so you could get me to do whatever sick shit you want me to?"

"That sounds like some weird MK-Ultra mind control shit" You chuckle, then wince after she pinches your abs with her sharp nails.

Belle hums "Yeah that's exactly what I mean..." You watch as she backs up a bit, then she begins to think, "well actually I was talking about hypnosis but you get the idea... kinda sorta"

"You want me to hypnotize you?" She nods and now you're confused "You can't actually believe that works babe..."

"It works" She insists, then slaps your chest when she sees the unconvinced and almost judging look on your face.

That's when you realize she's dead serious about it "What makes you want to try hypnosis all of a sudden?"

"Well" She begins tugging at the hem of your shirt "A friend of mine told me about how she and her boyfriend tried it and it sort of inspired me"

You stay silent for a bit, reminding yourself not to say anything slick so she doesn't get upset with you. "So how does it work? Do I get a pocket watch and swing it in front of your face or something?" You end up snickering a bit, still finding this conversation to be more humorous than serious.

Belle gives you a look, trying to hold in her own laugh "No, you idiot! I'll send you some videos later and.." She smiles mischievously before sliding off of you then she goes over to the dresser and digs her hand into her purse. You quirk your eyebrow and sit up to better see what she's doing. The moment she pulls a pair of hand-cuffs out, your eyes widen.

"We're gonna need these too"

-

So after watching countless videos, you finally think you've mastered the art of hypnosis.

Maybe not "mastered" but you got the gist of it. You've got no clue why you agreed to this in the first place because there was still something in the back of your mind telling you that this would never work and if it somehow did, she'd only be pretending. It's probably the boring pessimist in you that makes you think that way but this seemed interesting. So you keep your questioning thoughts to yourself as you reach into your drawer for the handcuffs.

Belle smiles at you in your dark bedroom, the warm light from the lamp on your nightstand is on the dimmest setting. It makes her naked body look so perfect, highlighting each and every one of her beautiful curves. You walk over to her, putting the cuffs on the bed before you take your hands in hers. "Ready?" She hums and nods her head.

"Now, I want you close your eyes to take a deep breath" She does as you say and you can hear the sharp sound of her nostrils taking in the cool conditioned air, her chest rises with it. "Now slowly exhale" and her chest falls gently "Now breathe as you listen to my voice, focus on it and allow everything else to fade away"

You keep your tone gentle and soft to put her at ease "The faint hum of the air conditioner, the rain outside, the cars passing by, block it all out" You notice that she's still taking those deep breaths, then exhaling them with soft grace. "Just focus on me, allow that tension and stress to melt away. No work, no schedules, just you and I"

"Now listen to my words" You pause for a moment "You'll do as I say, be subservient to me" You begin pulling her into a mindset crafted and molded by you "You want me to handcuff you" At this point, Belle holds a straight face, she doesn't even flinch or cringe at your words. Not even a smirk or a giggle, like you've actually got her in some sort of trance. "You feel the urge to do anything to get me off" and "You will not want us to stop until I say we do"

"Keep your breathing steady and at the snap of my fingers you will awaken with all of these desires"

You raise your hand and put your thumb against your middle finger, then *snap* and her eyes immediately open. There's something about her gaze that you immediately observe, it's kind of dark and empty and she's got a completely blank expression on her face. "What do you want?" You question her softly.

Belle looks over to the handcuffs and picks them up, then she holds them in front of you "Please" She says it with her voice just above a whisper "Please cuff me"

You swallow, not at all recognizing the tone in her voice. It has a chill running down your spine because it sounds almost desperate, like she's really begging for it. You begin to think that maybe this hypnosis shit is actually real and it scares you a bit. But you still take the handcuffs out of her hands as she puts her hands out for you.

It takes you a moment cause you're not used to this but you manage to get them on her. "Knees, princess" You order and just like that, she's dropping to her knees in front of you "Good girl" You mutter under your breath as you look down at her with nothing but lust in your eyes.

It's weird, this was actually turning you on more than you thought it would. Having so much control over her without a fight for dominance or her usual bratty attitude.

No doubt it already has your blood rushing.

So you don't waste any time to pull off your shirt then you unbuckle your belt and you take your jeans off. You take your hard cock into your hand and you pump it slowly "Open" Her lips part and her tongue pokes out "Suck" Is the next thing you say as you guide the head into her mouth.

Almost immediately, she begins bobbing her head mindlessly. Her warm mouth is so wet and welcoming and the feel of her fleshy, slippery inner cheeks and her smooth velvety tongue has your nerves so sensitive. You groan deeply as you allow your hands to run through her scalp then your hips start thrusting forwards because she's beginning to swirl her tongue and it feels incredible. She doesn't even need her hands, so much control, so disciplined and obedient for you. Belle takes your cock like a pro, sucking and slurping it tightly to provide the utmost pleasure and its fucking perfect.

She makes enthusiastic noises as she sucks your cock, like she's been starving for it, like your pre-cum is the best thing she's ever tasted.

You stop for a moment and hold her head still, then you push all the way in so her nose is pressed up against your base. Almost like you're a sadist, you hold her there, watching the way her eyes well up with tears. "So beautiful" You compliment, admiring the look of her glossy eyes. Her throat squeezes you as she gags "Ah fuck" You moan, pushing your hips just a bit deeper and Belle swallows, nearly making you dizzy. So you loosen your grip on her head and she continues to bob her head wildly.

It's like she has no gag reflex with how fast she's going and how deep she's taking you. Each drag of her mouth has you stuck just staring into her eyes, those dutiful brown orbs that tell you she's not going to stop until your cum is shooting down her throat. At this rate, it may not be too far away. "Oh—fucking god" You bite your lip, muscles clenching as she continues to suck you off.

All she can really do is hum and moan with her mouth stuffed full with your cock, the sticky noises only adding to your arousal. You can feel it coming already. She's ruthless with it, flicking her tongue in ways she never has before. "I'm going to fucking—" You can't even finish your sentence because she has your needy cock throbbing in her perfect mouth.

It's muffled, but you can hear it when she moans and starts bobbing her head quicker, like she wants nothing more than to get you off. You don't even realize it when you grip her hair tighter because you're too focused on being at the edge. Usually, when Belle would do this, she'd stop at the last second just to tease because like the brat she is, she enjoyed seeing you squirm. However, it didn't seem like she'd be doing that now. By the look in her eye, you can tell she's going to fucking milk you for all you've got.

Now you're starting to really get the idea of this whole hypnosis thing, even if she's just faking it. You place your hands on her head because even though you know she won't go anywhere, it feels right. You take a deep breath and then "I'm cumming" you announce with a low and long groan escaping your lips. Your eyes shut so tight you can see spots behind your eyelids and in a flash Belle's taking it all down her perfect throat.

It's almost like she can't get enough of you, the way she keeps on sucking she pulls out any bit of semen you have left. She swallows it all and you pull your hips back weakly when she tries to get you back in her mouth "Okay, thats enough" You chuckle tiredly and then she sits back on her heels.

Now the deadpan expression on her face is gone and it's replaced with an eager smile. There's still something off about it but you can't exactly pinpoint what "Did I do good?" She asks, waiting for your response with some drool at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, baby" You sigh "On the bed, on your back, now" Another order comes out of your mouth, and you sound more natural about it.

Belle licks her lips then stands up, it takes a little more effort for her to climb onto the bed because of the handcuffs but she does it eventually. "What do you want, princess?" You ask the question again, because you're intrigued about what she'll answer.

"Use my body, please sir I want it so fucking bad—I need it. Need you to use me until you're finished I won't be satisfied until you're done with me" There's this genuine yearning in her tone, something that you almost don't recognize at all.

You go with it though "Lift your arms until they're above your head" A smirk grows on your face as you get a perfect view of her tits. You climb onto the bed and you get on top of her, positioned so that you're almost sitting on her stomach "You gonna let me use these perfect tits?" You ask as if she has any choice in the matter.

Still, she nods her head frantically "Anything" She whines as you grab a hold of her breasts in your big hands. You cup and squeeze them, like always, they're better than fucking pillows, so soft and squishy. You place your cock in between them and press them together on it, you groan immediately when your feel the perfect warmth.

"Fuck yeah" You groan as you begin to move your hips back and forth. She only looks up at you with that lustful look in her eyes. You gather some saliva in your mouth, then you lean over and spit it out. It lands on her boob, then it trickles downwards and you spread it around as you keep fucking her tits.

It was always something you wanted to try out, but you hadn't gotten the chance to ask yet. You were kind of afraid she'd laugh at the idea and you didn't exactly know how she'd take it. Belle would probably be down for literally anything you wanted to try out and it was the same for you—which is why you agreed to do this hypnosis thing in the first place—but you could still do without the teasing that'd come with it.

Your cock slides between her breasts without any resistance whatsoever, it's all smooth and slick and it feels so fucking good. With her hands over her head she just lets it happen because she's fucking loving it. The almost harsh grip you have on her tits has her squirming because she wants to be touched and used in other places, obviously.

You keep the pace though, wanting to stay in this moment for just a little bit more before you move on. "How does it feel baby?" She gives you those expecting eyes, like she yearns for your approval.

So you don't hold back your praises "Incredible, your tits are fucking amazing Belle... I could do this forever" You sigh, listening to the slick sound each of your movements make.

"Why don't you do it forever then? I wouldn't mind" She teases but her tone tells you that she's not really joking.

Maybe hypnosis is real

A small chuckle escapes your lips as you stop your movements "If I did that, I wouldn't be able to get to the best part"

"Which is?" She figures she can let her hands rest on her belly.

You reposition yourself so that you're in between Belle's legs at this point "Right here, princess" She hums when you place your palm on her soaked cunt. It's all slippery and slick with her arousal, she's been absolutely aching to have you inside of her. Your cock throbs at the mere thought of it.

"Please sir"

The way her voice sounds in your hears has you smirking, so fucking desperate. Normally, Belle had far too much pride to beg like this but now that she's under your control things are different.

You might actually prefer it this way

"Please what darling? You want my cock or what?" You mock, wrapping your fingers around your cock so you can nudge it against her entrance. You don't put it in though, you merely slide it up and down her slit slowly, lathering your swollen cock head up with her wetness.

A choked moan forces its way through her throat "Yes! I fucking need your cock—fuck—just inside please just...use me, fucking own me"

"Jesus, you're a fucking slut" You bite your lip, slapping your tip against her needy cunt just to get her that much more riled up before you begin.

"Your slut" Belle corrects, bucking her hips up like she really needs you.

So you stop messing around and you slide your thick cock into her hot entrance. Her walls pull you in immediately, hugging your cock so tightly that you have to stifle a moan "Fucking hell" you whisper instead. Belle exhales softly as you make eye contact with her then you slide yourself in all the way until you reach the hilt.

The look on her face is pure content as you begin to move inside of her. She watches you, not missing the subtle ways your facial features contort from the pleasure. "Fuck me" She begins to pull at the cuffs, fingers trying to grasp at anything while you pick up the pace.

If she wants to get fucked, I'll fuck her—is what you think to yourself as you lean over.

You're moving faster now, hearing a jumbled up mess of words that escape her lips as you do. She's saying your name like its a prayer, begging for it deeper, faster, harder all at once because she wants you to give her everything. "Fucking—please!! more..more..more" It sounds like she just might die if you don't. So that's exactly what you do, you give her probably more than she can handle.

The quiet bedroom now has the sound of your skin slapping against each other echoing throughout it, then there's that filthy sound coming from between your legs—her arousal is audible especially when you bottom out. It's almost like a splashing sound over and over again occurring fast with your punishing thrusts.

"You feel so fucking good, so fucking tight and wet for me" You spit, watching in real time as you dumb her down with your cock. She's blabbering about something, something about how your cock is too good, how she can't get enough of it. That's about all you're able to make out because she's cutting of her own sentences with loud moans then seemingly forgetting whatever she was going to say next.

You smirk a little because you've whittled her down to this complete and utter embarrassing mess. She wants to touch you—to feel your body and you can tell by the frantic way her hands are moving. You almost snicker at how pathetic she looks right now. "What's wrong? Gonna cum already?" Is the question you ask upon noticing that familiar breathing pattern "Go ahead, do it" you grit through your teeth.

She's gasping for air deliberately, like she has to remind herself to breathe. Still she's able to chant "yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes" right before the poor girl stops breathing all together. You keep it hard and deep as she goes silent, your grunts being the only other noise that can be heard over the filthy noises of your sex.

Her body stiffens, only moving from the impact of each of your thrusts. Then finally she exhales, legs shaking as she cums all over your cock like she's been longing to. Her cunt clenches around you so tight that it has you not too far behind her. You let your body fall onto hers so she can feel you close as you ride her body through her orgasm, your hips rolling forwards all slow and calculated. "Good fucking girl" 

When she's finished you pull your hips back to slip your cock out of her. She whines, not liking the feeling of being empty but she doesn't say anything about it. "Where should I finish?" You question her, lifting your body off of hers. You get off of the bed and reach for the nightstand where the keys to the handcuffs are.

You grab them, then you un-cuff her "I'll be happy with whatever you choose, sir" she whimpers, breathing heavily as you move to flip her over.

It's a bit difficult to get a good grip on her sleek skin, but you're able to do it so she's flat on her stomach "Hands and knees." Belle immediately finds the strength to do so, pulling her body up so that she's in the position you've asked her to be in. You get behind her and your hands find her waist "I think I wanna cum in this tight pussy" You mutter, guiding your sensitive tip to her stretched cunt. 

It's begging to be filled again, to be pumped full of your seed.

"Then breed me babe" She breathes, pushing her ass back in an attempt to get you inside when she notices that you're teasing. You only smirk, then you part her lips with your tip, gathering up all the clear slick between her legs. "Come on" Belle moves her hips side to side.

First you run your palm over her soft, round ass and then you slap it harshly. She lets out a pleasureful shriek as you watch the red shape of your hand form on the pale skin. You run the same hand up her hips and stop at her waist which you grip tightly before slip your cock back into her needy cunt.

You put your other hand on her waist, holding her in place while you push your hips forwards. "Christ" You groan because she's way tighter in this position. Starting off slow seems like the right move at first because she's whimpering, so you do.

Until she lets the side of her head rest on the mattress, so she can look at you the best she can in this position. "Don't be afraid to get rough with me babe, I can handle it" She bites her bottom lip so hard you fear she might draw blood. "Use me" She begs you for the nth time with that perfectly seductive voice of hers, making it so hard for you to hold back. You weren't even sure what you were even holding back for anyways.

So while keeping a good grip on her waist, you begin to jackhammer your cock into that wet warmth. "Fuck!" A broken scream tears through her lips and it almost worries you but the lust takes over. You keep hearing it in the back of your mind. use her, use her, use her. So much that you don't care if you're going too hard "Yes! you're fucking me so... fucking good sir!" She keens.

You lean over and reach your hand to find a grip on her hair. She gasps at the sweet pain that comes with the rough pull of your fingers and she's forced to hold herself up with her arms again—which she can barely do. "You're fucking dripping baby" You grunt, getting off on the sharp crack that booms each time your hips come in contact with her round ass. "Such a good slut... taking it so well for me"

"Please" She whines, and you're not entirely sure what she's begging for "Please"

"Please what princess?" You almost growl, feeling your abs begin to burn.

She swallows thickly, moaning like she can't control herself. "f-f-fill me up.. I fucking—God—I fucking need it" 

It's coming, you can feel it in your balls. Her cunt is gripping you so perfectly, so smooth and slick that every drag has your jaw clenching and your mind going blank. You're so unbelievably close to stuffing her full of it--it's the only thing you can think about right now. "Yeah... Belle, gonna fucking... cum in you" Your breaths are labored now because the force you're fucking her with is tiring you out.

"God I'm gonna fucking-" Belle squeals, then a rush of clear liquid begins to spill out from between her legs and her mouth hangs open. The pressure almost kills you right then and there but you keep moving, you can't get enough of her. Even when another—more powerful—burst comes out you only grunt as it runs down her legs and stains the sheets.

"Ah...look at you—squirting for me" You'd chuckle if you weren't so close right now. You end up slowing it down, thrusting hard and deep into her cunt slowly. One. Belle shrieks. Two. She moans deeply.  Three. She bites her lip. Then four and your cock is pulsing and throbbing wildly inside of her the second you bury it inside of her on the fourth thrust. You moan loudly as you fill her needy cunt with your seed. There's so much that it's dripping down the side.

You can only sigh the little bit of breath you have left as it continues, your voice too broken and fucked up to do anything more. She only hums sweetly, giggling as you let go of your grip on her hair and your body collapses onto hers so you lay flat on the bed.

"Holy shit" You swallow, then you gather up the strength to sit yourself up and you put your hand on her now red ass, rubbing the cheek as you catch your breath. "Good girl" Then you remember that you should probably pull her out of her hypnotized state. "Sit up and close your eyes" You breathe. It takes her a moment, you watch as she sort of struggles to do as you say but eventually she does. "At the snap of my fingers, you will wake up"

You snap your fingers and her eyes open "Oh my God" is the only thing that comes out of her mouth. Her expression is unreadable and you're not sure if its a good thing or a bad thing for a second. Then Belle smiles and she climbs on top of you. You're surprised, but you allow it because the second she leans in to kiss you it just feels right. She pulls away "What the fuck? That was so hot" It's like she herself is surprised that it worked too.

"You remember?" You ask, knowing that sometimes people lose memory after they've been hypnotized, but it seems like Belle didn't.

Belle nods her head "Every second" Then she kisses you again "Especially when you fucked my tits, you could've told me you were into that" she teases, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"I know you, you would've laughed at me"

"But I still would've let you do it" She nods

You tilt your head playfully doubting her words "Sure" Is all you say before she pushes you back so that you're laying down.

"Shut up" She mutters before putting her lips on yours again and you're both smiling into the passionate kiss, feeling that familiar fluttering feeling in your stomach. "Thank you for trying this out with me" She seems genuine about it.

You shake your head "I'll try any kinky shit you throw at me"

and there's no doubt you would

[bethanydelleman]

One criticism of Jane Austen is that she ignored the lower classes. I find this kind of dumb on multiple levels, primarily because not every work of fiction or social criticism needs to include every single social ill, but also because she does talk about servants/the lower classes quite a bit more than people realize and what she says is important.

The overall theme: kindness to servants/the lower classes/the poor is a very important mark of character.

We all know that Elizabeth Bennet changed her mind about Mr. Darcy after hearing a positive character reference from his housekeeper, but that is just one example of many. The Dashwood girls are better employers than John & Fanny since they easily find servants to move across the country with them: Her wisdom too limited the number of their servants to three; two maids and a man, with whom they were speedily provided from amongst those who had formed their establishment at Norland. Also, servants tended to brag about having wealthy employers, these three servants wanted both a far away and a less prestigious job. John & Fanny were really that bad!

Another mark against General Tilney's character is that he gets irrationally angry at/scares servants:

To such anxious attention was the General’s civility carried, that not aware of her extraordinary swiftness in entering the house, he was quite angry with the servant whose neglect had reduced her to open the door of the apartment herself. “What did William mean by it? He should make a point of inquiring into the matter.” And if Catherine had not most warmly asserted his innocence, it seemed likely that William would lose the favour of his master forever, if not his place, by her rapidity.

“Why! How can you ask the question? Because no time is to be lost in frightening my old housekeeper out of her wits, because I must go and prepare a dinner for you, to be sure.” (Henry, on his father coming to his house for a visit. This may be half a joke, but General Tilney is very critical of the meal)

Mrs. Ferrars's character is made quite plain in this complaint about paying annuities (basically a pension here) to some of her husband's old servants:

I have known a great deal of the trouble of annuities; for my mother was clogged with the payment of three to old superannuated servants by my father’s will, and it is amazing how disagreeable she found it. Twice every year these annuities were to be paid; and then there was the trouble of getting it to them; and then one of them was said to have died, and afterwards it turned out to be no such thing. My mother was quite sick of it. Her income was not her own, she said, with such perpetual claims on it; and it was the more unkind in my father, because, otherwise, the money would have been entirely at my mother’s disposal, without any restriction whatever.

Mrs. Ferrars is loaded, and she begrudges paying a few pounds to 3 servants. She is greedy and ungrateful.

Mrs. Norris's treatment of the servants is similar to her treatment of Fanny. It shows the depth of her miserliness (how much could one boy really eat?) and also cruelty:

"I had been looking about me in the poultry-yard, and was just coming out, when who should I see but Dick Jackson making up to the servants’ hall-door with two bits of deal board in his hand, bringing them to father, you may be sure; mother had chanced to send him of a message to father, and then father had bid him bring up them two bits of board, for he could not no how do without them. I knew what all this meant, for the servants’ dinner-bell was ringing at the very moment over our heads; and as I hate such encroaching people (the Jacksons are very encroaching, I have always said so: just the sort of people to get all they can), I said to the boy directly (a great lubberly fellow of ten years old, you know, who ought to be ashamed of himself), ‘I’ll take the boards to your father, Dick, so get you home again as fast as you can.’ The boy looked very silly, and turned away without offering a word, for I believe I might speak pretty sharp; and I dare say it will cure him of coming marauding about the house for one while. I hate such greediness—so good as your father is to the family, employing the man all the year round!”

It also highlights her hypocrisy, as Mrs. Norris has moved in during the play to help with the preparations, so she is getting free meals all week but she won't let this kid eat when he's helping his father (who is building the stage for the play)

Mr. Knightley considers the common people of Highbury before moving a path, even though he likely owns all of the land and can do whatever he wants:

"But John, as to what I was telling you of my idea of moving the path to Langham, of turning it more to the right that it may not cut through the home meadows, I cannot conceive any difficulty. I should not attempt it, if it were to be the means of inconvenience to the Highbury people, but if you call to mind exactly the present line of the path"

The kind Musgroves, who have given their nursemaid a retirement plan instead of turning her out:

A chaise was sent for from Crewkherne, and Charles conveyed back a far more useful person in the old nursery-maid of the family, one who having brought up all the children, and seen the very last, the lingering and long-petted Master Harry, sent to school after his brothers, was now living in her deserted nursery to mend stockings and dress all the blains and bruises she could get near her, and who, consequently, was only too happy in being allowed to go and help nurse dear Miss Louisa.

And who clearly are rewarded for this kindness.

Anne Elliot showing kindness to Mrs. Smith, who has nearly fallen right out of the gentry, vs. her fathers disdain for charity:

“Westgate Buildings!” said he, “and who is Miss Anne Elliot to be visiting in Westgate Buildings? A Mrs Smith. A widow Mrs Smith; and who was her husband? One of five thousand Mr Smiths whose names are to be met with everywhere. And what is her attraction? That she is old and sickly. Upon my word, Miss Anne Elliot, you have the most extraordinary taste! Everything that revolts other people, low company, paltry rooms, foul air, disgusting associations are inviting to you. But surely you may put off this old lady till to-morrow: she is not so near her end, I presume, but that she may hope to see another day. What is her age? Forty?”

Added to Sir Walter and Elizabeth's idea to cut expenses:

“Can we retrench? Does it occur to you that there is any one article in which we can retrench?” and Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be done, and had finally proposed these two branches of economy, to cut off some unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new furnishing the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards added the happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom."

Vs. how the Crofts treat the poor:

She could have said more on the subject; for she had in fact so high an opinion of the Crofts, and considered her father so very fortunate in his tenants, felt the parish to be so sure of a good example, and the poor of the best attention and relief, that however sorry and ashamed for the necessity of the removal, she could not but in conscience feel that they were gone who deserved not to stay, and that Kellynch Hall had passed into better hands than its owners’.

Henry Crawford's moral fall begins with ignoring the needs of his tenants:

"I have half an idea of going into Norfolk again soon. I am not satisfied about Maddison. I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible, and get a cousin of his own into a certain mill, which I design for somebody else. I must come to an understanding with him. I must make him know that I will not be tricked on the south side of Everingham, any more than on the north: that I will be master of my own property... I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly, and put everything at once on such a footing as cannot be afterwards swerved from. Maddison is a clever fellow; I do not wish to displace him, provided he does not try to displace me; but it would be simple to be duped by a man who has no right of creditor to dupe me, and worse than simple to let him give me a hard-hearted, griping fellow for a tenant, instead of an honest man, to whom I have given half a promise already. Would it not be worse than simple? Shall I go? Do you advise it?”

Of course, Henry does not go to Everginham, as he knows is right, but instead goes to the party in London, where he again runs into Maria...

Yes, Austen didn't write servants/the lower classes as full characters in general, they are in the background and around the edges of the scenes, but over and over, we can sort characters into moral and immoral by their treatment of those less fortunate around them.

[sunnie-angel]

week 4 (oct. 25) | size kink

✮⋆˙ some other love

jason's tried forever and it's never worked out, but the pretty thing that runs one of his community centres is just so earnest in her desire for him that maybe he can have this. (part of the older, jaded jason au)

tags: f!reader, older jason, age gap, size kink, vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, kid as a petname, unprotected sex

⊘ this is an 18+ fic. minors do not interact, you will be blocked

The first time Jason Todd takes you home for anything stronger than a nightcap, it catches you off guard. Not that you knew that was what he was asking you up to his loft for. No, you had thought that like every other week before it, you would sit on his sinfully comfortable couch with a glass of whatever he was drinking this time and go over the week’s reports in a tone that would just edge on flirtatious that he would smilingly deflect.

What had really happened was this: halfway through the numbers on how the community centre was doing, Jason had put down his glass, reached over to take your own tumbler from you and set it on the solid wood coffee table. He had helped you to stand, papers sliding off your lap and into a hazardous pile on the floor. Pulled you to him so that all you could do was look up at him, close enough to see the way time was creasing her way across the corners of his eyes and threading across his temples. Jason had cupped your face in one large hand, impossibly soft as he dragged a thumb across your cheek.

“You work so hard for me, don’t you,” he had asked, only it wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

Dumb with desire, you had only been able to manage a miniscule nod, fearful that anything else would shatter this moment like glass. Your lips had parted with anticipation as he continued to stare down at you, considering in a way his gaze never had been before. Subconsciously rocking up on your toes, trying to draw yourself as close as he would allow, that had seemed to decide things for him. At 8:37 PM on a Friday evening, Jason Todd kisses you for the first time.

Kissing him is like coming home to a memory you’d long forgotten. It’s almost chaste, sweet in its brevity. He’s gentle, palm softly steering you to a better angle so that he can meet the soft plush of your mouth with his own. Jason’s other hand rests low on the curve of your back, touch burning through the thin polyester of your blouse. Warmth and care emanate through your whole body, honey in your veins. With a sigh he pulls back, rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“Only if you want to sweetheart,” he murmurs, like he isn’t offering you what you’ve wanted since the day your mistook him, your sort of boss, for an intruder.

“Please,” you plead and you can’t even articulate what it is that you’re begging for. He must understand because he takes you gently by the hand and leads you to the one room you’ve never been allowed entry to.

His room is inviting, bookshelves covering every available wall and decorated in soft warm tones. The bedside table is messy, but otherwise it’s surprisingly clean and organized. It’s his bed that holds your attention though, so large you could get lost in it. That reminder of what you’re here for, after months of hoping, pools saliva in your mouth and sends weakness to your knees. Turning back to Jason, you realize he’s already far ahead of you, clothes dropping into the hamper.

With unsteady fingers you scrabble for the buttons of your blouse, frustrated by their reluctance to obey. Large hands brush yours out of the way, methodically undoing each button for you in silence. Face to face like this, there is no where to hide from his attention as he undresses you, observes you. It should be ridiculous – him fully naked and you the one still clothed – but it isn’t. Instead you just feel small, doll-like. It’s easier to focus on his hands, track their progress down your front, than it is to meet his gaze. Jason pulls the shirt from your body without brushing even a whisper of skin and every inch of you aches for his touch. He undoes your pants, slides them down for you and your palm burns from where he lets you steady yourself against his shoulder to step out of them.

Standing there in the warm glow of the lamplight in your granny panties and oldest bra, you feel uncomfortably exposed. You are not unaware that you are only the latest in a line of women that have been through this bedroom before and you are possessed by the inane urge to cover yourself. To not give him any reason to compare you and find you lacking in someway. Jason must pick up on your hesitance, presses kisses across your hip bones and tummy to distract you as he pulls your panties down. Kisses his way up your whole body to mouth at your breast through your cotton bra until you are panting and desperate to feel his slick mouth against your skin. He licks into your mouth as the clasps of your bra come undone, falls to the floor somewhere you are to busy to take notice of.

Jason walks you back onto the mattress. Like this, propped up on your elbows with Jason looming over you, you are forcibly reminded of his size, a fact that you thought you had grown used to tuning out. Strong, wide shoulders carry his weight easily and though he’s a little soft around the middle from the creature comforts of life, the strength and muscle of him is still evident. Caged beneath him, soft underbelly exposed, he kisses you and you know that if anyone were to look in on this scene now, the only body they would see is his.

He kisses you and you can feel the hot, heavy weight of him against your hip. Without looking you fumble for him, barely manage to close your fist around the head, fingers stretched wide. He groans into your mouth and you can tell from that one touch alone that he’s bigger than anything you’ve taken inside of you before.

“I don’t– I don’t know if it’ll fit,” you confess, eyes wide. 

“Jus’ need to get you ready first,” he tells you, already sliding a hand between you.

The first of his fingers breaches you and your mouth drops open in a soundless gasp. He’s big, so much bigger than your own fingers. You can feel your walls clinging to each knuckle as he slowly works it in deeper. He crooks it inside of you, goes hunting for the spot that feels like you’ve touched a live wire, then resolutely ignores it.

“It’s easier if you don’t come first, otherwise you’ll be too sensitive,” he apologizes.

Jason finger fucks you methodically, spending as much time massaging your entrance as he does inside of it, getting you used to the sensation of being filled. He watches you, your body, learns to read it’s cues and then plays them expertly. A large, warm hand slides up the side of your ribs to rest just below the swell of your breast until you are keenly aware of neglected they are. Slowly you get accustomed to the feel of him inside you, start to work your hips down to meet his movements.

He smiles down at you, a proud private thing, and asks “Think you can take another?”

You nod and then stiffen, body tight as a bowstring at the feeling of two fingers – only in to the first knuckle – filling you up. It’s a different kind of stretch, just this side of uncomfortable as he works the two of them in deeper. Gets you used to the size of them before slowly scissoring them apart, working you open in your most intimate of spaces. Jason has you gasping around his fingers and still you know that they don’t come close to the size of the cock hanging red between his thighs.

A third finger prods at your hole and you gasp, reach down to grasp Jason’s wrist before he can work it in alongside the others. Fine tremors run up and down your thighs as you stare up at him, a deer caught in the headlights. Jason looks back down at you placidly, content to wait until you’ve worked through your hesitation. Slowly you peel your fingers away from his wrist, certain that if you don’t throw yourself into this now the fear will stop you entirely.

He rewards you as much as distracts you with a kiss. Long and lingering, it makes everything but the solid weight of him melt away so that you barely feel the third finger as it enters your cunt. Jason mouths down the line of your throat and you arch up into him, desperate for more of him. Everywhere he touches your skin lights up on fire. His mouth closes around the bud of your breast just as he starts to finger fuck you in earnest and you keen. It’s too much, too full, to big but at the same time your carefully neglected clit is throbbing. He starts to tug at the rim of your hole and you don’t know if you want to fuck your hips back down on his hand for more or try and escape the stretch.

Seemingly satisfied with how ready you are, Jason lets your tit fall from his mouth as he withdraws his fingers, leaving you to clench down around the sudden emptiness. Hands under your arms suddenly reposition you on the bed, your limbs arranged to his liking. Jason slides his cock through your folds letting them slick him up for what’s coming next. They makes a lewd wet sound as he parts them, thighs already sticky. You swallow. Hard. He feels impossibly large like this, pressed up against your cunt not even trying to enter you yet, blood hot and firm.

One hand on your hip, Jason slowly guides the head of his cock to your entrance and presses forward. Even with all of the prep, the bulbous head won’t fit and he has to bully your cunt into letting him in. Grunts in your ear with the effort of forcing his cock inside of you. You gasp like you’ve been punched in the gut when the thick head of his cock pops through that first ring of muscle, scrabble and twitch like you’re trying to get away from the all consuming pressure of it. Quicker than you can see, Jason’s got a hand around the base of your throat and he uses that grip to pull you back onto his dick.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he gentles you. “M’gonna go real slow for this part. You just gotta relax f’me.”

You whine and shudder as your body gets used to the intrusion, clutch at the wrist pinning you down by the throat just for something to anchor you. Bit by bit Jason feeds more of his cock into you, taking his time with splitting you in two. Not even half way in and he so big you can barely breathe around the weight of him in your gut. Sparks run up and down your skin and you know now why he wouldn’t let you come before because of this. Only a few inches of dick inside and already you’re shaking apart at the seams, mind hazy with how your body is accommodating the impossible girth of him, rim stretched tight around him. Punched out little moans and whimpers fall from your mouth without thought, too consumed with the way he’s prying you open.

He’s nearly in, just an inch or so to go, when he stops, hits a part of you so sensitive it hurts. Your eyes screw tight from the burn of it and you struggle to remember what air is.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay kid, just breathe,” he tells you, holding himself completely still. His hand leaves the base of his dick to smooth up the side of your thigh, rests as a comforting weight on your hip. Sweat prickles at your scalp and between your shoulder blades. “In and out, just like that.”

You hiccup, squirming under his hold, cunt aching but he leaves you no where to hide.

“Almost there, you’re doin’ so good kid. Jus’ need to remember to breathe a little, that’s all.”

Careful not to move inside of you, he leans down and kisses between your eyes. Drag his nose down the side of your cheek and lets out an exaggerated exhale, gets you to try and mimic it with him. Slowly you convince your breathing to even out, deep inhales and long slow exhales that coax your muscles to loosen up. Your knees loosen their death grip from around Jason’s hips and breath by breath the burning pain of the stretch starts to recede.

“You ready now?” he asks and you nod.

Jason holds your gaze – pins you down with his own more like – as he slowly fucks the rest of him into you. Just when you think you can’t take anymore, that he’ll tear you in two if he gives you any more, his hips meet yours. He’s in, in so deep you swear it’s not your cervix he’s pushing up on but your diaphragm, your lungs, your throat. Tremors run down your legs as you gasp and twitch around the complete invasion of your body. You can already tell from the ache in your hips that you’ll feel this tomorrow but that’s a hazy far off worry.

Jason looks down at the pretty thing in his bed, so young they were probably born the year he should have graduated high school, and marvels at how well she takes him. Shifts the hand at her throat to thumb over the soft line of her jaw in wonder. How sweet she is to give him this gift of her trust. How hard she works to give him this, to open up around him. He leans to kiss her, a reward for doing so well, and swallows her hiccuping gasps at the way it changes the position of him inside her. Her warm wet walls clench down around him and Jason breaths heavily through his nose at the feeling of how tight she is.

God this is probably a mistake. But she’s here now, warm and solid in his bed and Jason can’t pretend to regret it now. Tomorrow maybe, when he has to deal with the fact that technically she’s one of the Hood’s many employees. Has to watch that spark of desire in her burn itself out over the coming weeks now that he’s indulged her. Her attention had been flattering, in an abstractly distant kind of way, but he’ll miss it when its gone. Young things, he thinks wryly, always so impatient for the good part that they never learn how to make the anticipation last. She moans as Jason palms at her belly, presses down like he can feel the burning length of him inside of her. Gets her tighter, tenser around him as slick pours out of her. He kisses her through it, nips at the line of her throat and sucks bruises into her clavicles until her breathing stops coming out so rabbit quick.

“Move,” you beg, voice high and plaintive. You paw clumsily at his back, his hips, desperate to feed the hunger growing in your belly now that you can think past the sheer stretch of him.

“Don’t worry kid, gonna give you everythin’ you need,” Jason says and then he fucking moves.

please just assume that this jason also has no boundaries and knows you're on birth control bc he did a full background check on you the first time you looked up at him with adoring eyes