#eventually they just start fucking up and everything goes to shit

[klavlock]

au where instead of dying airplane finishes pidw and then starts releasing increasingly insane extras catering to every kink and ship he can think of. bingge gets pissed on by a wife. xin mo ends up in someone’s ass. he writes the official a/b/o au. he’s having so much fun writing unhinged shit that his writing actually /improves/. peerless cucumber still complains about the plot (airplane please tell me sqq and lqg didn’t fuck in the ling xi caves that’s not canon right? right??) but even he admits the prose is nothing to scoff at.

once airplane has exhausted the pidm universe he just takes mobei jun out of it and has his oc fuck or be fucked by everything he can think of. bingge? already covered in the pidm extras, but he throws it in few more mobing fics for good luck. a thinly veiled airplane self insert? naturally! every single peak lord? why not? the concept of the demon realm, anthropomorphised and in need of a good dicking down? airplane's pretty proud of that one.

eventually he just becomes the chuck tingle of web novels. he’s equal parts hated and admired. some of his fans have left but a lot stay on (including cucumber-bro, of course) and he gains new fans who haven’t even read pidw and are just here for the insane porn concepts! he’s having so much fun! nobody cares how gay it’s all gotten!

it’s quick to write and it pays his bills so well he’s able to actually work on a new novel in secret. he publishes it under a different name. it has kickass world building, a tender gay romance and tasteful, well-thought out sex scenes. nobody figures out it’s written by airplane shooting towards the sky. not even cucumber-bro - not at first. he leaves a very heartfelt review, expressing his delight at finding something well written with a great protagonist and fascinating monsters that doesnt become a disgusting tropey mess like ANOTHER web novel he could mention!! and then there’s another message tacked on, shyly admitting that the romance has helped him come to terms with his own sexuality. airplane is equal parts genuinely touched and cackling with trollish glee. he HAS to reveal his identity. the resulting meltdown goes down in fandom history. airplane gets a best friend and ( maybe?? ) a boyfriend out of it.

he never stops writing the mobei jun porn.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

I'm in love with this series!! Jay Todd, my beloved. Just, ah, the world building is so good, and the FEELINGS! Don't even get me started on the smut cause I was fr fanning my face. I talk about my fav parts below the cut!

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in.

Plsss, I'm swooning already. Love that she doesn't need the helmet to get shit done.

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before. “You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored.

Ah, I'm grinning! You can fr feel her confidence through the screen

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks. “I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

OOOHHHH!! Get him!! It's over for me. She has my heart and I'm buying her anything she wants

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds. “You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing.

!!! I've got heart eyes for this fr

Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

No notes. I love when two people are equally enthralled with each other

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway.

aw that's sweet but also only burners my girl? I worry for her lots

Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers.

I've decided that they're married, your honor. Just, ah, I love how quickly they entwine into each other lives! Just finding your person and knowing you want to be with them all the time, do everything and anything with them.

How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

Oh, it's so fine. They're absolutely just friends and there isn't anything more to it at all and they definitely don't see each other anything but platonic besties

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

I mean, I'd let her

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.” “Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress.

AHH, I'm losing it over this interaction!! and all of it done in each others arms!! INSANE!! It really shows how comfortable they are with each other. I just adore friends to lovers

Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her. Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

PLEASE! I'm drooling. Reader is better than me cause I would not have made it out of her apartment

Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure.

I actually love Jay's and Dick's sibling antics

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.” Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Misunderstanding of century!! But I am eating it up!!! Angst is my kryptonite

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor.

owwww. The heartbreak. The humiliation. I wanna sink my teeth into it

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.” “Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

GERRY! just, oww!! All of this is ow. Fr the pain reads so real and I'm devouring every line

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

Swooning. This angst is so sick and twisted (but in a good way, I swear)

“Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

CRUEL and UNUSUAL. I'll take fifteen

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced.  “These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

Plssss, chekhov's gun but it's the underwear I knew were gonna come back up. I looove it. And Jay being just as desperate has me feral!!

Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

hehe, The way I am giggling and twirling my hair

Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

I think I forgot how to blink reading this. my jaws on the ground

Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

!! They're nasty and I love them for it

“I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.” “Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

eee I'm obsessed with this!! The way I want to sink my nails into it and never let go. I looove they're dynamic fr. Sunnie you're actually feeding the Fem!Jason enjoyers soooo good 🥰💙

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 1: Unexpected Faces in Familiar Places

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay makes a new friend, now if only she could be something more... tags: sexual harrassment, threats of violence, idiots in love, flirting, swearing, sexual tension, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 4.7k a/n: enjoy! i've been having a really shitty week (even before the election) so i scrapped my original intention to only post once it was fully written and decided to just share this with you all

Jay Todd has the shittiest day to cap off the shittiest week in what feels like forever. Her ribs ache from a hit on Monday that’s still not fully right and she spent most of the day chasing down one of her accountants that had the sheer fucking nerve to try and steal from under her nose. Her knuckles are bloody, she’s on the verge of a stress headache, and all she wants is to drink her goddamn drink in peace. Apparently that’s too much to ask for because she gets a call from Cala down at one of her bars about out of towners harassing the guests and now that just won’t do at all.

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in. Zeroes in on the two chucklefucks have that cornered a poor girl sitting at the bar. Notes the way she’s hunched over and pulling down the hem of her skirt to hide her skin from lecherous eyes. Cala buzzes around the scene trying to divert their attention away from poor little miss unlucky but it doesn’t work.

“–m not alone,” Jay hears you say as she strides towards the bar. “I’m waiting on a friend.” 

“That so,” the taller of the two men leer. “Well she can just join us too. Plenty of room for more.” The shorter man makes a crude gesture at his crotch and Jay sees red.

“There you are!” She calls out, shoulders past the men without even acknowledging their presence. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a real bitch. Did you already order our drinks yet?” You look up at Jay with gratitude and something suspiciously like tears shining in your eyes. Fuck. You’re pretty.

“No I– I didn’t know if you were planning on driving so I just waited,” you play along. 

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before.

“You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored. The man’s face starts to go a horrible shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair.

“So you think you can just butt into a private conversation, bitch?” He snarls, spittle flying.

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks.

“I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

He opens his mouth to respond, vein pulsing in his forehead but the cock of a shotgun stops him. Cala, blessed Cala, had finally had the distraction she needed to grab the shot gun from under the bar and she is using it to maximum effect.

“Out!” She thunders, waving the shotgun in the men’s faces. “Out and don’t you ever come back. This is one of the Hood’s bars, we’re under her protection and there’s gonna be hell to pay for this.”

Enraged the larger one goes to yell back but the shorter one grabs at his shoulder. Whispers at him to look around at all the hostile faces, the other regulars getting to their feet and cracking their knuckles. Tails between their legs the two nuisances scamper out.

Jay nods at Cala and she calls out “Next round’s on the house!” to the cheers of the room.

Job taken care of, Jay goes to leave when a hand around her wrist, just catching her under the hem of her jacket, freezes her in place.

“Wait!” you call. She turns to look at you properly, the wobble of your lip and the shortness of your skirt from where you’re no longer tugging it down. “Please? I just– I’m worried they’ll be waiting outside for me. I was supposed to meet a date here but they bailed on me and now I have to wait for the next bus to come. Would you stay with me for a bit? Please? I’ll– I’ll buy you a drink for the inconvenience.” And well, Jay always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

“Sure,” she says, slinging herself lazily back into the bar chair. “It’s no inconvenience but I’ll take that drink. Whoever he is, he’s gotta be mad for standing a pretty girl like you up.”

“Oh um,” you fluster at her words. “Thanks?”

Cala sets down Jay’s usual order for when she’s driving in front of her and refills your drink. Waves off your fumbling with your wallet with a “It’s on the house, chérie. Our apology for the bad night. Besides,”  she nods at Jay “the Boss Lady would not let you pay if you tried.”

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds.

“You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing. “Just needed a little help, that’s all. Now my name’s Jay and I own this little establishment. Why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself too?”

You stutter and start through your own self-introduction, mascara long eyelashes fluttering at all the attention. Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Getting you to talk about yourself seems to work though, familiar territory slowly evening you out. You’re surprisingly witty when you’re not flustered, someone fun to have a conversation over beer with. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

A stray notification catches your attention, interrupts your story about how this bar wasn’t even in your bottom five. You roll your eyes at the sender name.

“Jerry,” you answer Jay’s inquisitive look. “Apologizing for standing me up, for all the good that’ll do.” With a flourish you tap at your screen, smile and say “Blocked.”

Jay can feel the corners of her eyes crinkle up in return, simple joy and approval for you cutting the trash out of your life. Not that she’s really entitled to an opinion on it. Your smile lasts a half second longer before suddenly descending into panicking, fumbling out your phone and chanting no no no under your breath.

“I missed the last bus,” you breathe out, eyes wide. Jay’s brain stutters at that, there’s no way you’ve been talking together for four hours. Cala catches her eye and jerks her head up at the big clock hanging over the bar. Fuck. It really has been four hours.

Jay knocks back the last of her beer and stands, extends a hand out to you to help you hop off the bar stool that’s just the wrong side of too tall. Even in your heels Jay’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“C’mon,” she says. “It’s my fault you were out so late, I’ll give you a ride home.”

She leads you outside to where her bike is parked, your palm still in hers.

“I don’t have an extra helmet so you just take mine okay?” She says, putting it on you.

“We’re– we’re going on that?” you squeak out, surprise rendering you docile.

“Yep,” she answers, already straddling the bike, thighs flexing. “Hop on and hold on tight.”

Jay more feels than hears your scream as she revs the engine and takes off, corners maybe just a little too fast to be anything other than showing off. Too soon she pulls up at your front door and already she mourns the feeling of your arms wrapped around her middle. She gives you a hand to help you off the bike again and nearly buckles at the brief glimpse of the black unlined lace panties she sees under your skirt as you swing your leg over the bike. The two of you stand there facing each other, moment stretching out until a car backfires a few blocks over.

“Well, I guess I should get going, “ Jay tells you reluctantly.

“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway. Grinning, you see her off into the night, taillights dissolving into darkness.

Jay calls first, asks about coffee with too much casualness in her voice. Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers. Bitches with you about assholes at work – not that she gives you the full story – and bemoaning the state of customer affairs. Makes you dinner at her apartment and makes a spot for herself on your couch. Worms her way into every corner of your life without regret because you’d tell her if her presence was unwanted. Right?

Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl. Dick teases her about how far she’s willing to bend over backwards for ‘just a friend’ and Jay has to show her teeth and snap back that at least she has some. Has to cover up for the fact that her sanity is hanging by a goddamn thread thinner than that single string that had tied the open sides of your top together that one afternoon, revealing bare skin and the hint of a breast if you leaned just right. The way she almost walked into a wall when she realized you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place. How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

A gala invitation has Jay wishing she could shoot lasers with her eyes and incinerate it. Her eye twitches with annoyance and you snatch it up out of her hands before she can stop you.

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

“A stupid one,” she answers, not really paying attention.

“But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.

Even with your whining and pouting, Jay can’t help but think she’d still have a better time at the gala with you by her side to distract her from pointed glances and whispers. She sighs. Wait.

“There’s a plus one on that invite,” she tells you nonchalantly, studying your face in her peripheral vision. “You could come if you want, get all dressed up too.”

You stiffen at the question. “You really mean it?” you whisper, hardly daring to breathe.

“Course, but only if you want to,” she offers. You squeal, clutch the envelope to your chest and tackle her.

“It’s short so I’ll probably have to rent a dress and oooh I need to think about makeup, maybe a bold lip? Oh! And I can have another excuse to wear the Jimmy Choos...” you babble in her arms.

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.”

“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress. You prance around the room pulling down dishes for dinner and Jay sighs, melts back into the couch cushions as she listens to you chatter a mile a minute about how excited you are.

Jay’s really, really regretting her impulsivity by the time the gala rolls around a few days later. In all her excitement about not going alone for once, she’d forgotten that this meant she’d be going with you. With you, all dolled up and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

You knock at her door earlier than she’d expected from you when a fancy event is involved and has to do her very best not to drop her jaw on the floor. Gorgeous green silk pools around your breasts in a daring cowl neck, the fabric clinging to your curves, draped to exaggerate them. Skims the plush sides of your hips before falling straight to the floor, a daring slit revealing the warm bare skin of your leg ending in those heaven sent Jimmy Choos. Jay stares, knows she stares for a beat too long but there is quite literally no force on earth that could tear her away. You start to squirm under her attention, still standing half in her doorway.

“That bad, is it?” You laugh self consciously, start to cover your cleavage with your hands. “I knew it was too much.”

“No, no it’s just enough,” she rasps, standing back to let you in. You brush past her so close she can smell your perfume, can tell you’d broken out your special occasions scent in the nice glass bottle. “I just need to fix my tie and do my hair and then we can go.”

“Do you need the tie?” You hum, stepping into her space. Grabbing a hold of one of the loose ends, you tug it out from where it’s tucked under her collar and drape it over the couch. Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her.

Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

“Can I do your hair too?” You ask shyly.

“Don’t see why not, I was just going to do a ponytail,” Jay shrugs. Delighted you push her down onto the couch and start pulling bobby pins out of your purse. “Wait did you plan this?” She asks.

“A girl should always be prepared for the best outcome,” you tell her primly as you stand behind her and finger comb her riotous hair.

Quickly you separate out a deep side part and Jay memorizes the feeling of your hands in her hair. Hands twisting and pinning, you’re done in only a few minutes, handing her the little mirror out of your clutch to admire your work. Softly Jay touches your work, the way you’ve slicked back one side of her hair and made the waving curly mess look artistic and purposeful.

“Thank you,” she says, making eye contact with you in the mirror. She means it, means it for more than just fixing her hair but for everything else you’ve done since stumbling into her bar and her life all those months ago.

“It’s nothing,” you tell her, hands suddenly occupied with the mechanism of your purse. “We should probably get going, right?”

Jay drives the two of you to the venue in a really nice car you’ve never seen before. She waves away your questions with a tight, “My dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” She parks at the end of the red carpet and the doors haven’t even opened yet but you can already see the camera lights flashing. You look at her, suddenly nervous because you’d vastly underestimated how important this event was. She turns to you and smiles, grips your hand over the car console.

“Hey,” she says, all softness. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I’ll head off the vultures, you just hold onto me and enjoy the canapes, okay?”

You nod, and then suddenly she’s opening up your door, hand extended to help you out. The lights are blinding, flashing so fast the afterburn never gets any time to dissipate. Pasting on a smile you cling to Jay’s strong arm, rock solid even under all her suit layers. Paps shout and scream at you to look their way and you can barely hear them over one another.

Eventually the two of you make it through the front doors of the hotel and you gasp like you’ve been drowning. Rubbing your shoulders Jay moves to cover you, cuts off the private moment from prying eyes that seek and skitter.

“Is it always like that?” You gasp. Fighting to regain your balance.

“Unfortunately,” she says with a rueful smile. “But that’s the worst of it over, now we can really enjoy the night.” Gallantly she offers you her arm and you accept it gratefully, her elbow brushing up against the swell of your breast as you walk.

She introduces you to the night’s hosts – her family – with a whispered apology in your ear. Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure. She doesn’t know what possesses her to, but she wraps a proprietary arm around the small of your back as she steers you around the room. Helps you to crystal flutes of champagne that make your nose twitch at the carbonation and warns you off the most disgusting canapes.

Jay has just chased down the waiter carrying the mushroom and cheese quiche bites you’d fast declared your favourite when the two of you get roped into a very stilted conversation with some of the fat cats the Waynes are currently trying to drain dry, for charitable reasons of course. She’s tuned out the conversation while she piles all the best looking bites onto a plate for you, horrifically uninterested in whatever Mr. Harold J. Carson, esquire had to say about the Texan economy. She cottons on to something being wrong as your hands tense up around her arm and your laugh gets ever more brittle.

“That’s a very kind offer Mr. Carson–”

“Harold, please,” the great mustached walrus harumphs.

“–Mr. Carson,” you bravely soldier on. “But I’m here on a date and I hope you’re not implying that I’m the type of woman to two-time someone.”

He turns an ugly shade of puce and sputters at the implication, society matrons chuckling behind their glasses at his terrible blunder. Sensing an opportunity, Jay grabs you by the arm and starts leading you away.

“I do think our presence is needed by my family elsewhere,” she says, vowels Diamond District clipped. Her grip around your fingers is strong, tighter than it’s ever been as she leads you down a hallway and into an unused meeting room. Her breaths are coming heavy as she drops your arm like she’s been burned, deposits the plate on the empty table. Jay knows if she speaks now, her voice will shake and she will not have that. FUCK. Fuck, she was supposed to have this under control by now. She’s not your keeper, she’s not gonna stand between you and happiness but fuck it hurts to be used like a ticket into someone else’s bed.

“Jay,” you ask cautiously. “Are you okay? I really wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, I’m telling the truth, promise.”

“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.

“But you invited me,” you answer her, voice trailing off in confusion.

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.”

Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Jay has to stop pacing because wait what.

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question. 

“We met because my date stood me up!” you exclaim.

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.”

“Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

“Oh,” she says stupidly, suddenly forced to re-contextualize her entire life for the past few months. You dash an angry hand at your tear eyes and turn to go.

“It was my mistake,” you tell her voice thick with emotion.

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

“Oh sweetheart,” she croons and you shudder. “Bet you’ve been feeling like I’ve been treating your real raw lately.” She cups your face in her hand, smoothes her thumb over the high plain of your cheekbone. “Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

“We were– we were supposed to dance,” you confess, head falling back against the door. 

“We can still do that,” she says, curling her fingers into your hair and pulling. She grins at your swift inhale.

“We were gonna dance an’ then, then you were gonna take me home.” You breathe out, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Was that it baby girl?” She asks. “Playing it a little safe for your one night fantasy, weren’t you?” Jay lets go of your wrist to rest her hand on your shoulder, large hand pressing down on your collarbone.

“Was gonna kiss you goodnight,” you whimper, shivers running across your skin. Slowly, so slowly you can make out the ticking seconds hand of the big clock on the wall, Jay leans in and carefully slots her mouth down over yours. Sucks gently on your bottom lip before releasing it with a sigh.

“Like that?” Jay asks. “You were just hoping for a sweet little kiss on the mouth?” Her own breathing is ragged.

“No–o,” you gasp. “Was hoping– was hoping you’d kiss a little lower too.”

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced. 

“These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

“They’re my– my lucky date underwear,” you gasp into the air. 

“And you were hoping to get lucky tonight, weren’t you baby girl?” She coos up at you.

Biting your lip, you nod. Jay sets about tearing your underwear to pieces with her teeth. Your thighs tremble around her ears and she slams your hips back down against the door. Spreads your lips open with calloused fingers, presses a light kiss to your clit in greeting before she starts making out with your pussy. You howl and sag, trusting her to take the full weight of you as your knees turn to jelly.

Jay eats you out with enthusiasm and she eats you out with experience. Does this thing with the slick thrusting muscle of her tongue that has you gasping and begging for more. Can feel the heel of your shoe digging into her back, urging her own, begging her to fuck you harder. Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

Sucks your clit, hard, just a hint of teeth as she spears you open on a thick finger. Twists and curls it against your slick wet walls, lets herself affectionately get acquainted with your cunt. Scissors you open with two fingers just to watch your head bang back against the door, eyes shut and tears streaming down your face. Sets an uneven rhythm with her fingers and tongue that has you moaning and trying to ride her face for more. Finger fucks you with wet, squelching vigour as you quiver and shake, walls tightening up as you careen towards climax. Starts putting pressure on your rim with a third finger just to tip you over the edge of it all, pleasure making you stupid. Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

Gently, she takes your trembling thigh off her shoulder and places it back onto the ground. Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

“Hoping for a little something like that, honey?” She teases.

Vigorously you nod, head bouncing back and forth like a bobblehead, words still fucked out of your brain. She holds out a hand to you – not the one that’s just been buried knuckle deep inside you – and clasps your hand in her own.

“C’mon, let’s go home then,” she tells you airily, leading you back through the maze of the building.

“But what about the party?” you ask, mascara still smeared around your eyes.

“I don’t care,” Jay bites out. “I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.”

“Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

“Good,” Jay smirks. “Because it wasn’t a question.”

series masterlist | part 2

[pac1fythehunger]

the birds are migrating. nature is beautiful

[mortalityplays]

talking about impenetrable accents/dialect just reminded me. when I was in Milan a couple of years back I was staying in this little rathole hotel and I had the biggest fucking migraine, so I was like non c'è problema I'll just go buy painkillers. of course every pharmacy on the map in a three block radius was closed, so my stupid ass just starts wandering around trying to figure out on the fly if you can get OTC from supermarkets in italy.

I walk into this little everything store (to my foreign eyes the kind of place that back home could sell you a bunch of carrots, a 6-pack of beer, pantyhose, bleach and a screwdriver set) and I see some household basics in the back but not what I need. with the confidence of a person who is only in the city for 3 days because he got bored and packed a bag and booked the cheapest flight available the week before (<= MENTAL ILLNESS), I was like no worries I know some italian, I can just ask.

I grab a bottle of water, walk up to the counter, and I'm like Ciao, hai il paracetamolo? And the guy is like che, and I'm like paracetamolo. Per la mia testa. And he's like che?

This is where I would have said 'aspirina' except I can't take aspirin for medical reasons, or 'antidolorifico' except I don't know that word and I've got no phone data for google translate and also I'm stupid. So in my fucked up leith-glasgow-italian accent I'm like paaa-ra-cetta-mollll-ooo. He's like ohhh bene, bene, and he calls another guy out of the back and asks him to go get something. Other guy then walks out of the store into the street, and before I can be like hey, che la fuck, he comes back and hands me a huge bundle of herbs.

At this point I'm like okay this entire interaction has been a bust, but these guys have been very nice and patient and they're both smiling happily at me because they've been of service, so I'm like ahh perfetto, grazie, pay them a couple of euros and leave.

EVENTUALLY I find a pharmacy that's open, and my head is fucking killing me, and my phone still isn't connecting, and now I have this small shrubbery poking out of my coat pocket, so I don't even bother looking around the shelves. I just walk straight to the counter and I'm like uhh ciao, scusi. And hearing my nightmare of an accent the guy answers in english and I'm like thank christ, do you please have paracetamol. Not aspirin, I can't take aspirin. And he's like yeah yeah hold on, goes into the back, comes out with what I need.

Only when he comes out he gives me this look, and then he starts laughing. And then he pretends he's not laughing and rings me up and I pay, and as I'm leaving I can see him losing it. But I don't care, my head is going to explode, I'm going back to the rathole to close the blinds and fall comatose for four hours.

When I get back to my hotel room I take off my coat and remember the huge bouquet of herbs in my pocket. They smell amazing, and I'm like I'm pretty sure this is parsley in which case I can just get some tomatoes and mozzarella later and make it work. but since I have no idea what that interaction was, I want to make sure. I bring out my phone to get a visual reference of what parsley leaves look like, and because I was using it for google translate earlier I put 'parsley' in the wrong box like a dope and translate it to italian.

prezzemolo

I wish I could have been the pharmacist in the moment he looked at my tired pissed off anglophone ass, heard me say 'paracetamol' in my fucked up accent, and turned around saw what was in my pocket. I'd have lost my shit too.

[jaythelay]

We need more AmazingAtheist centric content to get Gen Z men on our side and I'm not fucking kidding.

If you want GenZ Ya'll gotta get comfortable saying the N word and being less hostile towards other verbiage and I'm Not Even Kidding.

If you want the Gen-Z vote you're going to have to focus on the shit Republicans do and not Who to Protect/Stand up for and I'm Not Even Kidding.

If you want the Gen-Z vote you're going to have to "Brigade", Infiltrate, and make a Twitter account, and spam what Republicans actually think and I'm Not Even Kidding. (This is what they've been doing the whole time)

We need to pop these echobox's bubbles through sheer information shoving. If they thought any ideology was being crammed down their throats? You need to show them what that's like but in reverse, show what they believe, what they have done and plan to do, in broad daylight. Go to r/conservative and act like you're excited about a part of Project 2025 that you Know they'll disagree with. Go on Twitter and post under any Republican's page the same thing. Make their Ideology Horrifying And Public.

Make Them Self-Reflect.

Make Leftism Cool.

[orcelito]

Actually it is SO weird to me to remember that I was an engineering student and that later on I had been pursuing a minor in statistics

I may be a IT & com person in the end, but I do have the foundations of engineering and statistics in my brain too. Wild !

[greetingsfromuranus]

love hearing the most sappy heartfelt romantic songs and going "yeah this is edd and eddy"

[rotthepoet]

Bsf!theo casually being your secret hookup friend and makes it really obvious but also denies it too anyone who asks 🤡

MWAH‼️ (thats me kissing your clever brain because i love it)

I think it would begin as an actual genuine friendship. You two just get along so well, studying together, sitting by each other in the great hall, gossiping and giggling as one does. Theo just adores you, you’re the light of his life tbh

But i mean. You have needs. He has needs. It happens for the first time after a late night smoke sesh. You’re laughing and joking around and you’re play fighting. Start shoving each other around, all fun and games. You end up on your back, Theo on top of you. And like. It’s all silent for a minute. Just a minute. Then just… you both feel the energy shift and you’re making out on the floor. Its messy and he’s groping you, feeling everything he can, kissing down your neck, and really one thing leads to another and you’re in his bed taking it doggy style.

And yeah, It was really just supposed to be a one time thing. Nothing should change. You were just high and horny at the same time, it’s not weird unless you make it weird.

But then… it just… keeps happening.

And neither of you are in any rush to stop it.

Lets take a pause, just one moment please and thank you. I just want to say I think Theodore has a very high sex drive. Gets his mind off things, considers it a workout, and it just feels good. He is a gorgeous man, so its not hard to find willing partners but something just hits harder here. Maybe its the thrill of sneaking around. The knowledge that he’s fucking his friend on the regular and then pretending it never happened.

He stops seeing as many people- obvs not cutting everyone off because hes a bit of a man whore(he doesn’t want you to get sick of him)- and he doesnt even realize it. He just… likes you more than all his other hoes🙏

Anyways! Its kinda obvious that Theo and you have something going on. Prolonged glances at each other, biting your lip at him, him grazing his hands over your hips while he whispers something in your ear that makes you blush. Man goes out of his way to “subtly” slap your ass.

Its Draco and his big mouth that say anything first. Their whole crew is sitting in the Common Room, just idly chatting and playing cards. When conversation eventually gets stale, Draco sits back and looks Theodore dead in the eyes. “Nott, are you dating that… “friend” of yours?”

And he means it in a cheeky teasing way. Because how can Theodore Nott, local playboy, be settling down?

And Draco expected a solid “yes, and what of it?”

He didn’t expect the most casual “nah” anyone could muster.

And heads turn, Blaise raising a brow because he was certain you and Theo were an official item. Questions begin rising, and Theo just shrugs them all off like its all rumors.

“So you aren’t hooking up with them?”

Nope

“Youre really just that touchy? It came out of no where.”

Dunno, mate, shit happens and people change.

And he’s biting back a smirk because his mind is on you again and suddenly he’s faking a yawn and excusing himself to many protests. He misses your body(he misses you he misses you so bad its genuinely such a distressing feeling in his chest when he cant see you all day)

He swallows all those feelings though. Youre just a friend.. with benefits? Just a friend with benefits. Nothing more. He doesn’t even like tear up a little bit when you play with his hair after he finishes. Like. Its not that deep.(it is that deep. Its so deep. Its miles deep. Hes so down bad.)

And its not like hes ever going to admit it. Hes just gonna keep hooking up with you and pushing those feelings away.

Swallowing those feelings won’t stop him from punching some dude for dancing a little too close to you at a party, though.

[st-el-la-luna]

Task Force 141 x Reader: Picture Day

NSFW 18+

When a guy keeps sending you unsolicited pictures, you impulsively reach out to your Task Force for help in an... Unconventional way.

→ harassment, non con receiving of nudes, asking for nudes, sending of nudes

You don't want to do this. Really, it's not ideal. It's rash, and impulsive and, oh, right, insanely fucking stupid.

But, you're a spiteful person at heart. And, well, this would be the perfect response...

So, you open the Task Force group chat, type up a message and press send before you can stop yourself.

CorvidCorporal: hey guys

CorvidCorporal: can I ask a favour?

You don't have to wait long for a reply.

Captain Price: What is it, Corporal?

Ghost: No

DontDropthe: you know where to find me 😉

Gazoline: everything okay?

You sigh, type up another message, worrying your lip between your teeth.

CorvidCorporal: it's nothing serious

CorvidCorporal: just... weird

Captain Price: What is it?

Gazoline: weird how?

You bury your face in your hands for a moment, considering if you're really about to do this. Your phone buzzes again, a notification from a different chat. You open it and holy shit, another one? Hell no. You're going through with this.

You head back to the Task Force group chat.

DontDropthe: weird is my specialty

You can't believe you're doing this.

You type and retype the message a couple of times before eventually just pressing send. You shut your phone off, face burning, not wanting to think about what you just did.

CorvidCorporal: I need a dick pic

The little markers on the bottom of the screen indicating people are typing vanish then start up again. Vanish. Start up again. Vanish.

Oh, you're fucked.

What the hell were you thinking?! These were your coworkers! Your superiors! Your boss!

You scramble to explain yourself.

CorvidCorporal: forget I said anything!

CorvidCorporal: it's just this guy keeps sending me them unsolicited from different accounts because I keep blocking his ass

CorvidCorporal: I figured the best way to get him to stop would be to send one back

CorvidCorporal: you know a real power move

CorvidCorporal: just really blindside em

CorvidCorporal: but well... I lack the parts and if I were just to go to google the guy could easily figure that shit out

CorvidCorporal: it was stupid and impulsive and I'm so sorry I asked

CorvidCorporal: please don't fire me I need this job

CorvidCorporal: guys?

The entire chat is dead. But their icons show that each and everyone of them is still active. Even Ghost.

You curse yourself internally and knock your head against the wall. You shut your phone off and toss it away. Too overwhelming. Too much. You can't... Why did you do that?!

You sit on the foot of your bunk and mourn your career, face in your hands. Dishonorable discharge no doubt in your future... You're such an idiot!

Your phone buzzes from across the room. You ignore it.

Except it buzzes again. And again. And again. And–

By the seventh text tone you go to pick it up, almost feeling sick from the nasty knot of anxiety and dread in your gut.

You open the group chat.

You close the group chat.

Holy shit.

DontDropthe: see attachment

DontDropthe: see attachment

DontDropthe: see attachment

Gazoline: jesus christ soap

Gazoline: see (2) attachments

DontDropthe: see (3) attachments

Fif– sixteen pictures. Two from Gaz and fourteen from Soap.

Holy shit.

Your phone goes off again.

Captain Price: Let me know if you need anything else, Corporal

Captain Price: see (3) attachments

What the fuck?

Soap has moved on to sending you pictures directly. You dismiss a call from him in a blind panic. He immediately sends a video.

You type into the group chat with shaking hands.

CorvidCorporal: thanks

Gazoline: anytime

DontDropthe: it's only fair if you send them back

DontDropthe: i understand if your shy

DontDropthe: my doors unlocked

Captain Price: *you're

In the end, you got more than enough material to choose from.

Three from Price. Seven from Gaz. A whopping twenty nine from Soap.

You're still deciding on what picture to send (and on calming your racing heart and ignoring the growing heat between your thighs) when your phone goes off again.

Ghost: see attachment

Please reblog to support my writing!

Comment to motivate!

masterlist!

[totallynotashieldagent]

falling for jason todd happens slowly and then all at once

it starts with lazy pre-patrol Friday evenings. he knows you don't have work in the morning so he stays for a snack before heading out.

it turns into "hey wanna watch a movie?" which turns into "I'm ordering food for us" and then you're lying on the couch at other ends but your feet are in his lap as top gun plays on the TV and he doesn't even realize he's doing it but he's rubbing the tension out of your heels.

it turns into "oh my office has a workshop for first aid happening" and you take it because you figure you should know how to patch him up after the bad nights

that turns into him showing up on a Tuesday night, which NEVER happens but he's on edge and he's anxious and he doesn't know what else to do and he just needs a hug and you do it.

you hold him until he stops shaking and he falls asleep on you like a weighted blanket.

maybe in hindsight, that is where it all started. waking up in a mess of limbs and untangling yourself, pushing him off until he falls on the ground and you laugh before leaving to get ready for work and... he doesn't leave. he's there when you come back in the evening because he just- he doesn't have an answer except, he didn't want to go.

you shrug and say you don't mind and you continue with your evening errands and chores and he orders food and during it all you realize how... domestic this all is.

it's a wednesday evening and he knows gotham is waiting for him but tonight...just tonight, he wasn't something calm, something normal.

the air is thick but neither of you address it. and he leaves eventually with unsaid words and confusion hanging in his mind.

the routine of friday night hangouts continue but every touch is more.. electric and neither of you say anything because you really do think that it's just in YOUR mind and the other doesn't feel that way at all.

it goes on for weeks and weeks until the tension gets so bad that you're snapping at each other for even breathing too loud but still you're in the same space because you can't handle the thought of being a part

it goes on for an embarrassing long time because even though the love is requited, you're both just fucking idiots

it goes on until a bad patrol night and he shows up with a bunch of knives sticking out of his back and instead of going to a safehouse or alfred, he's here. with you. and your hands are shaking because this surgery level shit and you took a BASIC aid workshop. you're crying silently as you do your best to fix him even with the Lazarus healing kicking in and you keep whispering to yourself "not yet not yet not like this not like this not before I can say-"

and everything just ...freezes

"Before what?" He rasps, his breath laboured and hard

"It's nothing-" You whisper and continue to bandage him

so he twists his back and looks at you, asking again.

"Before what?" His eyes are glowing green as his wounds are slowly starting to heal under your fingertips. "Please-" He strains. "Before what?"

"Before I can be brave enough-" You swallow, your shaking hands pressed against the bandage of his back

"Brave enough for...?" He whispers, his eyes darting across your face, memorizing every feature. Your eyes, your Cupid's bow, your parted lips-

"For this-" You finally take a leap and press your lips to his.

Drabble Master List.

[nisuna]

Are my reoccurring kinks becoming more and more evident hmmm I wonder

But anyway, let's just say I finally got inspired over the weekend 🤫😉

<3masterlist<3

Strictly 18+ MDNI

TW: stepcest, doggy, bj, camgirl!reader x yuji, different positions; use of good girl, nii-chan, whore once; creampie, consensual filming, sex tape, sex stream, mentions of ass fucking, spanking, yuji's an ass man through and through, he's crazy strong as always<3

You never got along with your parents, but you liked your brother very much, he was always there for you so you missed him a lot when he moved out and just tried to survive day by day, but as soon as you turned 18 you packed your bags and moved in with him.

He was a bit confused when he first saw you at his doorstep but he understood. Things are hard at home. So you've been living together for a few years now and everything was going well. You could even hide your little secret from him this whole time. You always made sure that he wasn't at home before you started your stream. Until you didn't one day. You swore he told you that he'll be gone for the night, probably at some friend's party you didn't really pay attention. You even went down to see him off and told him to have fun.

"You guys wanna see my brother fuck me? Oh god he always fucks me so good I wish you guys could see that!", you sighed and continued "You should see his arms, god I bet he could fuck me while standing. And his fingers are so thick and long he can reach much deeper, better than my tiny ones." you splayed your fingers out while you took a sip of your drink. Immediately a couple donations came in either begging or saying ME NEXT.

You chuckled to yourself, "Alright alright, I'll try to ask him, but he's very camera shy guys I'm sorry.", you pouted at the camera. As you proceeded to chat and pick out some toys for today you unfortunately failed to notice the door opening and your brother lean against the door frame

"You fucking minx", he thought to himself. When he first heard his friends talk about a new hot camgirl they found he didn't pay much attention. But when they eventually got him to look his jaw dropped as he quickly snatched the laptop from his friends.

"Eeyy not fair we saw her first!", they protested, but Yuji was having none of it. That's definitely you and that's defintely your room in HIS house. So that's why you always want him out of the house especially on weekends. Is that the reason you wanted to move in with him so quickly, to slut yourself out? What happened to his sweet little sister, maybe he shouldn't have moved out so soon. He felt guilty for leaving you alone he, felt like wasn't a good enough brother for you to resort to something like that-

"Aww I wish you guys could see my my brother he's soo big it just doesn't feel the same without him", you whined while drilling yourself with a dildo. You have got to be shitting me.

"Yeah she talks about him all the time I wonder what he looks like. Chat always goes crazy whenever she mentions him."

Yuji thanked the heavens that they haven't met you yet. God have you mentioned his name before please no.

"Want me to moan his name? Guuyyss he's shy, but because of all of those donations I'll make an exception this once." you winked and went on with your little show, "Yeah you're so good oh god Yu-", nope not doing that, he thought while he slammed the laptop shut.

"HEY party pooper she was about to say his name and be careful that shit was expensive."

"Yeah sorry."

So that's when he set up his plan to catch you in the act. He pretended to leave like usual, but as soon as he heard you run up the stairs he snuck back in and got ready to pounce.

"Y-yuji what are you doing here", you choked as you tried to cover yourself with whatever was laying around.

"Me? You're asking me what I'm doing in MY house?"

"No.. I mean aren't you supposed to be at that party..", you trailed off.

"You wish huh.", he sighed, walking in and closing the door behind him.

You didn't know what to do with yourself as you felt him get closer to you. As soon as you reached out to turn off the camera he stopped you.

"What are you-"

"Don't play coy now, lets go do what we alway do right?"

You were dumbfounded. Huh.

"Cmon, put that mouth to good use."

So that's how you ended up here with your step-brothers cock down your throat while he was filming your face. He had an iron grop on your hair, almost suffocating you with the way he was moving. He was not only bulky and buff body wise but his cock definitely wasn't lacking.

yn's footstool: how do we even stand a chance if he looks like that and he's your standard?? no womder you always talk about him

yn's cumdump: whoa that's better than when she's sucking the dildo

yn's doormat: cumshot cumshot cumshot cumshot bukake

feetluvr77: whoa i can see it in her throat

"C'mon put on a show they are loving it. This is what you've always wanted to do right?", he pulled you off his dick making you cough and suck in a deep breath. Oh you felt so fucked out already, eye make-up smeared and he hasn't even started yet.

"Cmon lay down, 'm gonna fuck you like you always tell them I do." As soon as you laid down on your back he pulled you close and pushed right in without a warning. Your eyes shot open as you tried to muffle a moan.

"Oh that was a good shot, keep it up."

You were so so embarrassed but all of that faded when he started to move, making your eyes roll back and tongue loll out. You always knew he was big, seeing him without a shirt around the house was nothing new but seeing him right now while he was drilling his cock into you it just hit different.

"Yn?"

"Hmm?", you mewled through teary eyes.

"Play with yourself, don't just lay there this is work afterall right?"

You groaned but still reached over to roll your hardened nipples between your fingers and looking directly into the camera.

"That's it, that's a good girl.", he praised while squeezing your thigh and keeping a steady rhythm. "God I can see myself in your tummy, you're so tiny."

Donations were through the roof right now, flooding your ears with requests and remarks.

"Oh, someone said do a peace sign!"

Definitely not-

"Don't be like that, give the people what they want." and with a particularly hard thrust he had you throwing your head back while reluctantly holding up two of your fingers.

"Now smiiileee for the camera. Good girl~"

Oh this was so embarrassing, but it was starting to get you off so you played along. His rhythm faltered for a bit before pulling out and turning you over to your stomach with one arm. He really was strong you always forgot.

"Now, on all fours gotta give them a view of that perfect ass.", you obeyed, turning around and giving the audience the deepest arch you could manage.

"Oh yeah thats it"

After zooming right in to where you two were connected, he went to town. There was already a white ring frothing at his base. God how has he never noticed your ass before, that thing's huge and in this position your waist to hip ration looked ridiculous. His huge hand just looked perfect when spreading and spanking your cheeks. Careful or he'll cum in a few strokes.

He felt like you were reaching your limit, so he pushed even further.

"Fucking whore wants to get railed by her brother. You should've just told me you wanted me to fuck you. You didn't have to lie to your audience, I would have fucked good everyday if you said so sooner.", between his words he spanked your reddening asscheeks and god you were getting close. What you didn't expect though, was for him to spit on your ass and massage it over your puckering rim.

"Stay tuned for next stream, I'll fuck her ass."

"Nooo~", you whined reaching back  only for him to grab your arm and force it against your back.

"Don't lie to me, we all know you want everything stuffed don't we, guys?"

Yn's cumsock: Hell yeah!

Feetluvr77: "Make her call you nii-chan or some shit"

You tried to muffle your sobs in the pillow below you, but Yuji had other plans. Before you could react he pulled your back flush against his hard chest kissing and licking down the expanse of your neck while flipping the camera and getting a nice view of your smeared fucked out face.

"For old time's sake tell your nii-chan how good he's making you feel, what do you say? If you do you're allowed to cum, alright?"

He felt you hesitate in his hold.

"Hey what's wrong? You were always soo", thrust, "cute when you called me nii-chan when you were little, what happened to you? Gotta get my cute and obedient little sister back.", a particularly hard thrust almost made you topple over, but his strong grip held you up without a problem.

"Ah- no it's embarrassing..", you moaned at his mean thrusts.

"Say it or you won't cum."

He's as annoying as ever, but you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Feels good, yeah so so good nii-chan thank you. Please can I cum I'm such a good little sister right? Letting you use me however you like please~~"

"Yeah? Good job. Now play with your clit and cream on my cock.", he groaned into your ear and you thanked the heavens. Your hand immediately went to play at your sensitive nub. And with his praises and mean thrusts in his strong hold you felt yourself come undone. Luckily he got the money shot of your blown out eyes and gaping mouth right on camera.

"Thaaaat's it good~", he mused fucking you through your high and holding your limp body before stuffing you to the brim and filling you up as well. "You better take it all, 'm gonna make ya nice and plump."

After he sent you down he pointed the camera at your exposed cunt. "Now push some of it out" when he didn't get any reaction from you he gave you a spank and that did the trick as you felt his cum drip out of you and down your leg, "oh yeah that's it look at that guys." You could see how proud he was by his smug grin and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the camera.

"Any last words?", he questioned while he saw your huffing form as he directed the camera to your face.

Feetluvr77: God I never came this quick and much holy shit best stream so far

A couple comments came as you were saying your goodbyes and with a wave and kiss the camera was turned off. As soon as Yuji laid it back on your desk and was about to comment, a pillow came flying his way, almost knocking him over.

"Ayoo what was that for??"

"Shut up!! Why did you do that?"

"What do you mean? You liked it didn't you?"

You definitely couldn't argue with that, so you just huffed and tried to cover yourself with your blanket. He felt a little panicked at that and went to sit by your side.

"It was okay right? That we did it on camera I mean."

"Yeah it's fine that's what I do. I've always wanted to invite someone over to do it, but I never expected it to be you.." you trailed off not daring to look at him.

"Ohoo, but you always talk about me don't you? Why did you not just ask me?"

"Because it's weird asking my step-brother to have sex with me, it's that cringe step bro porn trope I didn't think you'd be interested in that. And what if someone recognizes you isn't that weird?", you looked at him, cheeks still pink.

"No, we can do it again, I don't mind. Actually I kinda-", he trailed off and you felt a little hopeful only to be let down. "Depending on my cut of course. By the way how much do you even make and will I see some of that for my hard work?"

You groaned and tried to shove him away, but he's built like a wall and didn't even budge.

"I do make quite a lot" when you told him the exact number his eyes shot open.

"That much a month??"

"Per week most of the time."

"What? Then why the hell do you even still live with me?", he was dumbfounded.

"I don't know, it's comfortable and I like being around you I guess.", you said honestly, he was not only easy on the eyes but actually really kind and helpful most of the time.

"Unbelievable, but fine by me" he chuckled shaking his head but came right back, "soooo when do we do it again and what do we do? Also I gotta practice my camera work. I have a lot on my mind, how about-"

Before he could finish you slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a drawn out sigh. Oh boy this will be more work than you anticipated.

-------

Feel free to send me your Hot Takes as well ^^

[freakassfemme]

streamer!gf! abby head cannons ✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧

this came to me so violently. i couldn't get it out fast enough

✮⋆˙ initially she gets popular with a male audience through first person shooter games and her custom builds of old ass computers from like, random 90s scrap lots she finds on ebay

✮⋆˙ is playing black ops or something for a throwback Thursday and bumps into some random kid on voice chat who tells her to play Roblox (she's never heard of it)

✮⋆˙ lev explains it to her and she finds the concept really weird and kind of funny so she agrees and streams it one day, which SHOVES her through a portal to popularity

✮⋆˙ hot buff nerdy girl w glasses on my computer? yeah her demographics change REAL fast

✮⋆˙ surprisingly she has a lot of fun with it. she thinks the games people recommend her are really hilarious and her chat eats it up

✮⋆˙ never mentions being gay until someone makes a Chappell roan reference in chat one day and just casually she's like "omg my girlfriend loves her"

CROWD GOES WILDDDDDDDDD

✮⋆˙ very quickly they want to meet you. abby refuses at first, but slowly allows you to weasel your way in, whether it's through playing on your switch in the background, blurred out, or you running after bear and alice to try to rush them out of abby's office

✮⋆˙ soon enough you're sitting down live because abby can't place on dress to impress and she's pissed

✮⋆˙ it becomes a joke, but she loves it. she really enjoys making more light-hearted content and connecting with different types of people rather than vaguely-threatening tech bros

✮⋆˙ has a thing where if anything gay happens on screen she salutes the camera or gives the craziest side eye

✮⋆˙ still goes back to her roots and plays the most random old games she's had to pirate off some sketchy websites and download suspicious files to obtain, just laughs nervously when everyone's freaking out about it

"whaaaat? no, the internet is really nice to me. it would never do that -- oh FUCK" (mods are rushing to blurr out her IP address)

✮⋆˙ has the driest, most sarcastic humor that everyone adores.

"I want to rip your bicep off with my teeth... that's really normal of you."

"you think you could do it better? yeah? is that going to be before or after your homework?"

✮⋆˙ very minimalist, black setup with some black ambient lighting that's low-key like hot as fuck

but she's really clumsy and trips a lot, especially because it's dark. her monitor is falling like every other night and she's lucky it hasn't cracked

✮⋆˙ constantly bombarded with edits of her to muse that you'll be running in to show her midstream. she gets the biggest, most shit-eating grin

also didn't really understand what an edit was until you showed and explained it to her lol

✮⋆˙ eventually, as she opens up more and becomes more of a charming personality than a stoic bro-type, she starts making other friends.

yeah she becomes friends with streamer!ellie <3

as the time goes by, she and ellie get really close. there's definitely multiple streams of you, abby, dina and ellie playing mario kart or luigi's mansion on some first generation wii

✮⋆˙ abby teaches you how to jailbreak anything and everything from a 3DS to a switch, even when you're freaking out that she's going to lock it and you'll have to get a new one

✮⋆˙ eventually she sets you up a little corner in her office for when you join her on her streams. it goes from being one camera to you both having separate monitors, and yours is obviously much more colorful than hers

✮⋆˙ on very, VERRRRRY rare occasions she'll say something like "gotta lock in" or "ate", and its usually after like the most gruesome scene in a horror game and like 20 seconds delayed

like imagine her saying "gotta lock in" trying to be funny and finally getting into the bathroom in silent hill and then just sitting over the sink with her jaw on the floor for fifteen seconds

"Jesus Christ, am I going to get banned for showing that?"

✮⋆˙ really gets into analog horror and eventually starts drafting her own concepts, which pushes her into the rabbithole of ARGs

✮⋆˙ loves when people make virtual stickers of her, she thinks its really funny and though she never gets into "merch", she doesn't mind people turning stuff into actual stickers. she thinks its even funnier when she's never seen a screenshot until someone sends her it as a sticker

lets you keep them all and put them on the fridge or your water bottle

✮⋆˙ never does anything risky on stream but is no stranger to leaning back in her chair for a good time if you tiptoe in one night after she's logged off

[amywritesthings]

press four for more options. | part one.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4.6k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), slow burn, eventual smut, sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part two. | masterlist

“Thank you for calling the Scout Services Hotline. You’re only a dial away from your wildest fantasies with the sexiest singles near your area.”

God, even the automated voice sounds porn-y.

A breathy feminine voice straight out of a 1975 VHS tape croons into the dead air of your small apartment bedroom, setting your nerves on edge.

God forbid the noise travels through the walls into your next-door neighbor's bedroom. Harriet and Miro do not need to hear what you’re up to this Friday evening.

Maybe, up to this Friday evening.

You haven’t decided yet, though one could argue that calling was half the battle.

Dressed head-to-toe in an emerald cocktail dress with a face full of tear-stricken makeup, you feel utterly ridiculous sitting at the foot of your bed — not even the edge of the mattress, but the goddamn floor.

Even your black heels, now scuffed from someone stepping on them on your way out to fetch a cab, remain dangling at your toes.

(As non-committal as your last relationship, ironically enough.)

The experts say don’t shit where you eat. Dating someone you work with typically goes up in flames as fast as a rogue wildfire — and you should have listened to all of the warning signs, but Porco Galliard had been so damn charming that you’d forgotten just about everything.

Including your dignity, apparently, since you seemed to conveniently forget the part where he has had an on-again, off-again relationship with Pieck Finger well before you got hired at this place.

Not exactly side chick behavior, since he technically didn’t cheat, but the sting of being second place before the race even started lingered deep.

(Didn’t you know? He always chooses Pieck. It’s just one of those things.)

Well, no missing that now.

Especially since the two of them were so cozy at the annual shareholder event — right in front of your fucking salad.

The event’s slated to end at eleven so you’ve been nursing a wild array of drinks since seven, with little breaks.

In retrospect, the napkin with scribbled chicken scratch that Annie Leonhart, your closest colleague, shoved into your hand in the midst of your brooding at the bar may have been a joke:

You need to loosen up. Call this stupid sex line and get that stick out of your ass.

She wasn’t kidding. 

Every muscle in your body is too taut, including your brain.

So you took a cab, stumbled into your apartment, and landed — here.

Your phone sits right in front of you next to one of your half-worn heels, on speaker at the lowest setting.

Maybe it’s best to let the pre-recording list the entire numerical menu.

Maybe it’ll deter you from pressing anything at all.

“If you already know your match’s extension, press one.”

Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

You tap the napkin carelessly against the stem of your glass of wine, contemplating exactly how Annie Leonhart managed to find the information for this service to begin with.

Did she already have a match?

Did she regularly call them to blow off some steam?

She's always so chill. It would make sense.

There’s a chance this is a nasty prank at your lowest moment, but you don’t think Annie cares enough about other people to plan such a masterful takedown. 

At the work event, she seemed pretty serious about the legitimacy of Scout Services Hotline, and honestly?

Even if you had been drinking all night at the event, you were going to need way more liquid courage to even consider trying your hand at calling a sex line to quell weekend loneliness.

So naturally, you opened a new bottle of wine.

At the first glass of wine, you still weren’t ready.

The second? The napkin sat adjacent to your laptop as you played compilations of sad break-up songs further aggravating your spiraling depression.

The third was the charm to get you to pick up the fucking phone to see what the fuss was all about.

“If you’re looking for someone specific — whether it’s the man, woman, or person of your dreams — press two.”

Tempting.

Your finger reaches out for the ‘2’ on your screen, but you wait it out.

“If you don’t have a preference for your delicious match, press three.”

“You could’ve done without the delicious part,” you mumble to yourself, picking up the glass of wine to take a generous sip. An involuntary grimace tugs at your cheeks.

“If you’re looking to speak with one of our representatives or need more assistance, press four for more options.”

For a solid five minutes you wait.

Contemplating.

Deciding.

You could press the red circle to hang up and go to bed.

It wouldn’t be the first time you rubbed one out and called it a night.

After all, what’s one more lonely weekend?

The spiel starts up again on a loop with the same seductive, breathy feminine voice.

“Thank you for calling the Scout Services Hotline. You’re only a dial away from your wildest fantasies with the sexiest—”

You smash a button, but you’re not sure which one you’ve clicked.

Before you can lean over to see on your screen, a different feminine voice comes over the speaker.

It’s a little higher pitched than the menu screen voice, but it’s still inviting. Warm.

“Thank you for choosing the Scout Services Hotline. You’re speaking to Petra. May I have the pleasure of knowing the name of the person I’m speaking to this evening?”

A name.

You should give a name that isn’t your real name.

But technically wouldn’t your name be on the credit card if you go through with this anyway?

“You can give a nickname, too, if that makes you feel better,” the woman named Petra adds as if she's a mind reader, breaking the running silence on your end of the line. “A lot of our clients like giving a fake name for security and anonymity.”

“Doesn’t that break once you put in your credit card information?” you blurt, not realizing the thought has spilled on your lips.

Petra laughs musically.

“Technically yes, but if you prefer to be called something, then we’ll be sure to add that to your profile. I take it it's your first time calling.”

Why are you doing this again?

“Painfully obvious, right?” you lament, staring down at the scribble on the napkin. 

Did Annie have a fake name with this service?

“Not painfully at all,” Petra promises. “It’s a learning curve. So what may I call you?”

Real or fake?

Committed or just testing the waters?

“Scarlet?” you suggest, wincing immediately at the on-the-nose literary reference.

Letters, passion, blah blah love — it’s about the only creative thing your wine-addled brain can muster.

“I like Scarlet,” she hums, and immediately your brain is set on fire.

Are you going to be seriously this easy?

“Are you female, male, non-binary, genderfluid, prefer not to say…?”

“Female.”

"Pronouns?"

"Um, she and her."

“And you’re over eighteen?”

“Definitely over eighteen.”

“Perfect. So, Scarlet — did you have a preference on who you wish to speak to today? If you have a fantasy you wish to fulfill, then I can select someone for you.”

You want to scream.

Neurons fire as you try to come up with a cool and collected answer, only to allow the elixir of truth on your tongue to spill the beans.

“Just someone who’s got their shit together, honestly.” You exhale an awkward laugh. “I don’t know. I’m just calling because — I mean, I know you don’t care, but I like… um, deep voices? Stronger voices. Honestly I have no idea what to—”

“I have just the person.”

You pause.

Blink.

But you didn’t even describe anyone, not really.

A voice, maybe, if they cater to kinks of that nature.

You can only imagine they do — it’s a sex hotline, for crying out loud.

“Wait, you do?”

“Mhm!” she perkily states. “Is a man alright for this evening?”

A man with a deep voice who allegedly has his pretend shit together.

Granted it isn’t the opposite of Porco, he’s fairly capable at his job and out living his life just fine, but maybe you were just looking for a copy.

(Or a clue.)

“A man is… fine,” you hesitate. “Wait, so when do I give you my credit card information? My friend hooked me up with this, um — I don’t know if you have her name or if I should even say it, I know there’s probably some confidentiality—”

“Hold that thought,” Petra interrupts cheerfully. “You get the first fifteen-minute session for free, actually — you called just in time before our first-timer coupon expires.”

You can’t hide your surprise.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Ha, your fucking luck.

“If you're enjoying the call, just tell your match and we can set up your card and keep it going. All we ask is that you take a survey after your session. Then you’ll be in our system with this phone number! We’ll never solicit you for calls, but it’ll make the process faster the next time should you call our hotline again.”

You drop your head back on your mattress, sighing heavily.

“...okay, yeah. That sounds great.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

“Give me one moment, Scarlet,” Petra giggles.

You hear something shift on her side. 

Maybe she’s swiveling her chair. Are they located in an actual office building?

God, an office where people just do this for a living sounds larger than life.

“I’ll connect you with your match in a moment.”

Then the line cuts out to the opening notes to Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get It On, and you’re pretty sure you’re this close to chugging the rest of this bottle in one gulp.

“Is this seriously what you do on weekends, Annie?” you mumble to yourself, enduring the brutality of the waiting music while Petra connects you to your alleged match.

A man with a deep voice who has his shit together.

Is that even a real kink?

Has the bar really gotten that low?

Should you have described someone’s appearance? It wasn’t like it mattered over the phone.

As soon as it gets to the high note of the song, the line cuts again — silence.

Immediately you scramble to sit up taller, your hands fumbling to grab the phone from the floor.

You bring it up to your face, cupping the device in both palms to muffle the noise if it becomes downright pornographic in seconds.

Moment of truth.

With bated breath you wait — the person on the other line sighs, heavy and deep, before answering with the most nonchalant tone.

“Thank you for calling the Scout Services Hotline. You’re speaking with Levi. May I ask whom I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

Holy fuck.

Immediately you forget your own voice listening to the hum of the receiver.

While you’ve only joked in passing that you have a voice kink, it’s screaming in neon lights here and now: this man’s voice may be monotone, but there is a growl to it. 

A rumbling.

At this very moment, you completely forget that this man is on speaker phone and you’ve just returned home from the worst work event in the world.

You don’t have an ex-boyfriend.

You don’t even know your home address.

You’re simply… existing, lips parted, taking in the sheer tingle rolling through your torso.

“You there?”

Right, you’re meant to talk back.

“Huh? Oh — yes! Yeah,” you recover poorly. “Hi. It’s, um, it’s Scarlet.”

“Mm, Scarlet… Scarlet, Scarlet, Scarlet…”

The way the name drags along his tongue nearly makes your mouth water. 

His voice — Levi — is smooth, like the velvet on your dress you’ve yet to take off.

“A pretty name for a pretty thing like you.” Something ruffles and Levi makes a small noise on the other end, likened to a cut-off hum. “Tell me what you look like, Scarlet.”

All you can do is stare at a chip in your wooden dresser directly across from you, listening to him speak.

“I’m…” 

What do you even say? 

How come you have to say anything at all? 

Can’t he just read a takeout menu to you and call it a night?

Before you can answer, there’s an amused huff. “Someone’s nervous.”

Your face turns — well, a certain shade of scarlet.

“Ha. Sorry, I’ve—”

“Never done this before?” he finishes for you.

How mortifying. 

“Is it that obvious?”

“It’s cute,” he relents, and you feel your face turn a degree hotter. “Don’t worry — I’ve been told I’m a great teacher, so you’re in good hands.”

“You’ll have your work cut out of you, trust me,” you breathe, feeling like you’ve been injected with an overdose of a truth serum. “Because I just got home from this stupid work event. My ex-boyfriend brought his new girlfriend — who also works with us — as his date — yay, me — except I feel like I was the side-piece-in-waiting for them. So he’s off getting laid and I’m calling a complete stranger on a random Friday because my work colleague recommended this phone sex hotline for a quick solution.”

Silence.

You blink twice as dread settles in your cut. You tap the phone off of speaker and push the device close to your ear, balancing it with your shoulder.

Did you scare him away? 

Was that too much of a depressive dump? 

You suddenly want to crawl under your bed frame and hide there forever.

But then — a gentle chuckle sounds from the other end of the line, and arousal shoots straight to your lower belly.

“Good thing all of the dirty talk is my job, then,” he muses. “You’re supposed to lay back and listen.”

“Listen?”

“Yeah, unless you weren’t looking to get bossed around.”

It isn’t the worst idea you’ve ever heard, that’s for sure.

“If I’m honest with you, Levi, I don’t know what I’m looking for,” you confess, running a hand down your face.

“Then let me figure it out for you. We have time.”

The man calling himself Levi pauses on the other end.

“Did you want to get fucked, Scarlet?”

Well, shit, he didn’t have to say it like that.

“Yes,” you blurt without thinking, then fumbling to recover. “I mean— Sorry, clearly I called thinking about sex, and your voice is extremely lovely and actually very hot—”

“Oh, you think so?” Levi interrupts, honey-smooth voice humming with amusement with that same hum that’s going to make you scream.

“Absolutely. Completely. Are you serious?” you sputter. “You’re like an ASMR wet dream.”

“A what?”

“A wet dream?”

“No, the other thing — ASMR?”

“Um, like when people make really niche quiet noises to a microphone with their mouths, and it gives you the tingly sensation in the back of your head.”

“Interesting,” Levi says. “So are you saying that’s what I do to you?”

For the umpteenth time, your brain blanks.

God, you could scream into your pillow.

If you weren’t so afraid you’d forget to mute your microphone first, then you already would be.

“Yes! — I mean, yes, but — wait, can we just pause this for a second?”

For a moment he doesn’t answer, but the tone of his voice shifts: still just as sultry, but with a hint of confusion and a dash of concern. 

“Of course. Is everything alright?”

No, this entire night is weird.

If you don’t say something, then this is going to just keep looping and wasting his time.

“Okay,” you start, mustering the courage to get through your speech, “I know I’m spoiling the first-caller coupon for a free call and I’m sorry, I’ll totally pay for the session since you’re great and sound insanely hot and I’m sure you’re amazing at your job, but I just…” 

You trail off, collecting your swimming thoughts.

“...I’m something like six or seven drinks in, I am craving potato chips, and I’d really like to just talk to someone for a few minutes.”

There.

It’s out in the open, your confession to the liminal altar.

You half-expect him to hang up rather than wasting his time with someone like you, but to your surprise, there is no click. No call ended. No new automated message.

“Six or seven is a lot,” he comments, and you can picture a brow furrow even if he doesn’t have a face. “Does this mean you handle your liquor, or is this a one-off rager?”

“I think I’m only still functioning because I ate my weight in dinner rolls at the party.”

“Do you have a glass or bottle of water near you?”

The switch up lessens the tension in your shoulder blades in an instant.

His voice is just as crooning, deep and inviting, but it’s nice to simply be asked.

“Nope.”

His voice sharply changes, authoritative and firm. “Then go get one.”

The demand does something to you. 

Without thinking twice you begin to rock up on your heels, standing at full height.

“Okay, Mr. Bossy.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” he asks with a sprinkle of sarcasm. “Someone who has their shit together, if I read the notes right.”

“They write that stuff down?” you ask genuinely, minding your step as you pad barefoot across your apartment to your fridge.

“It’s your session,” he reminds softly. “We do whatever it is you want to do.”

“Even if it’s just to talk?”

“You’d be amazed at how many people call just to talk. Though I can’t say it’s my specialty.”

“No?”

“No. I’m not much of a small talker.”

The refrigerator door swings wide. “What’s your specialty, then?”

“Kink play, mostly. Dom and Sub. Guided masturbation. Edging. Making decisions for people who want to forget about making them for a while.”

One second the bottle of water is in your hand.

Next it’s on the floor.

“That’s, uh… a wide array of specialties,” you say. “And your rate, it’s…?”

“Not cheap.”

“Got it. So I’m really flubbing this free call.”

It’s small, but you hear a chuckle on the other end. “You said you wanted to talk, Scarlet, so we’re talking.”

Bending to grab your water bottle, you untwist the cap.

“Does this bother you, wasting your time talking?”

“You’re not wasting my time, Scarlet,” he says with such a promise that you almost believe it’s genuine. “You have a pretty voice, and you’re funny.”

“Shut up.”

“You do, and you are.”

“Uh-huh. And do you talk to a lot of people during your shifts?”

“That’s confidential.”

“So a lot.”

“Confidential.”

“And the length of calls,” you test, “are they hypothetically confidential, too?”

“It’s per minute, so.”

“Per minute?” you gawk. “Jesus, I’d go bankrupt talking to you.”

“Well, premium members receive bills per half hour,” he explains. “More bang for your buck.”

“Quite literally," you mumble. "And what’s a premium subscription get you?”

“Didn’t you check out the website before calling?”

“I told you I stumbled out of my cab and called the number on my napkin, Levi,” you chide. “I didn’t exactly do my research in my sexually frustrated state.”

“Fair, can’t blame you there.”

There’s something of a grunt on the other end, like he’s stretching his arms over his head.

Maybe he’s sitting in an office chair, too, going through the motions of his profession the same way the Petra lady had been.

You keep wanting to imagine what he’s doing on the other line, but you realize you haven’t asked the titular question yet.

“Hey, Levi?”

“Yeah, baby?”

It’s breathy, a roll of thunder in his tongue.

Instead of an office chair, you imagine a man lying on his bed.

Maybe his tie is half-done, hanging loosely around his neck.

Button-down open, exposing the planes of his chest; dress trousers unbuttoned and loose around his hips, so he can easily slide a hand—

Whoa.

You stop walking back to your bedroom and blink twice. “Oh, so you like pet names.”

Your face, in miraculous humiliation, grows another degree hotter at how amused he sounds with himself. “I never said that.”

“Sure,” Levi replies with a smirk to the concession. “What is it, Scarlet?”

(Maybe you’ll permanently change your name to Scarlet after tonight if it sounds this good on a man’s lips.)

You finally unzip the side of your dress and wiggle out, before finding a cozy spot in the middle of your mattress.

“How much time do I have left on this freebie?”

“Approximately three minutes.”

Time flies when you’re too busy gawking over someone’s voice, apparently.

“Can I ask what you look like?” you finally decide, playing along.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to ask,” Levi responds, returning to that same seductive tone he’d used when he first picked up the line. “Black hair, guess it’s a little shaggier than usual. Undercut.”

You squint to your ceiling. “I’m thinking of Dimitri from Anastasia right now but with black hair.”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“You’ve seriously never seen Anastasia?”

“It’s a movie?”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry for your childhood.”

“It’s an animated movie?” he scoffs. “Even worse.”

“You wound me,” you joke, pressing a hand over the cup of your beige bra. “What color are your eyes?”

“A gray-ish blue,” he tells you. “Sharp nose. High cheekbones. I’m a daily gym go-er, so I’m mostly lean muscle. I can probably pick you up, easily.”

So a fit man with an undercut hairstyle with gray-blue eyes and a relatively sharp face. 

Now you have a face to the image of a man lying on his bed, still in that button-down shirt and dress trousers.

His happy trail is probably dark, too, disappearing just under the waistband of his boxer briefs.

Or boxers?

Maybe nothing.

Your hand moves on its own accord to the waistband of your panties, toying with the fabric.

Contemplating.

Wondering if it’s wrong — when it really shouldn’t be wrong at all.

“You sound handsome,” you murmur. “I wouldn’t mind being picked up.”

“Wouldn’t be the only thing I’d do to you,” he flippantly states, and your brain blanks to pure putty. “You sound a little more winded than before. Doing alright over there, party animal?”

“It’s late,” you lie even when you damn well know you don’t have to lie. “Lots of drinking, first water of the night, lying down…”

“Better make it two waters before you fall asleep,” Levi states. “That’s an order, Scarlet.”

“Uh-huh.”

Your hand dips under your underwear, testing the waters.

But—

“Final sixty seconds,” he adds. “Any last words you want to get in before the line disconnects?”

“Only one minute left?” you protest, ripping your hand out of your underwear to pull the phone away from your ear.

14:02

So it really had been a fifteen-minute call.

God damnit.

Tapping the speaker icon once more, you stare at your phone and press your tongue against the inside of your cheek.

“What’s your extension?”

Because you have to know.

Even if you don’t call again, it’s a comfort to have it on hand.

Levi waits a moment before responding.

“Two-five-one-two.”

2512.

You swipe away from the call to quickly pull up your notes app, tapping the number down with a noted reminder: the guy with the hot voice!

“Are you going to call me again, Scarlet?”

You open your mouth, but you struggle with an answer.

(You only have a few seconds! Think, idiot, think!)

“I’m not sure if—”

Click.

“Hello? Levi?”

“Thank you for calling the Scout Services Hotline. Please stay on the line for a quick two-minute survey so we can better serve your fantasies in the future.”

Out of time.

You drop your phone to your stomach and groan.

Instead of calling back, you close your eyes — and, not before long, fall asleep to a dream of only one voice.

.

.

— —

.

.

    Saturday is a wash.

You wake late, missing an invitation to brunch.

For the better half of the day, you wonder about him.

Levi.

Your arbitrary match that doesn't feel so arbitrary anymore.

(It's placebo effect, you tell yourself. They're supposed to make you feel wanted.)

Punishing yourself for your excessive liquor and stupid plans, you trudge to your local gym and do your best to stay focused on your workout.

Every nameless person with dark hair that walks past you on the sidewalk from your apartment; anyone could be him.

The man waiting in line at the coffee shop.

The man who accidentally walked into you while you were switching the song on your playlist at the crosswalk.

The man weight training in the corner of the room, fringe cascading down his face as he drips sweat.

You keep the napkin in your gym bag, then transfer it to your purse as you run errands.

You could call.

It isn’t like you’re strapped for cash at the moment.

Granted it’s very wish fulfillment and it isn’t like he’s actually into you, but the attention is nice.

Besides — you haven’t thought of your ex once since you woke up.

Annie texts you twice within ten minutes of each message, which is unheard for her.

 [A. LEONHART]: So? Did you call?

[A. LEONHART]: Hello, earth to moron. At least like my message to tell me you’re alive. I’m not being interviewed by Dateline for you.

(Ah, there she is. Classic Annie.)

 [YOU]: Yeah, I called. Not sure if it’s my thing.

[A. LEONHART]: Sometimes they match you with a dud. 2nd time’s the charm ;)

[YOU]: Do you ever use someone’s extension?

[A. LEONHART]: Duh. I’m a regular of one guy.

Okay, so she talks to a guy. Something grips your stomach as you type your reply.

 [YOU]: Can I ask his name?

[A. LEONHART]: Why, so we don’t eiffel tower this?

[YOU]: jfc annie

[A. LEONHART]: lmao his name is Bert

    So not Levi.

For some odd reason, you breathe a sigh of relief as you close out of your messages.

Maybe you're one of a million, but at least you're not sharing with Annie.

Once you return home from your errands, it's close to dinnertime.

You cook something simple for yourself, occasionally glancing over at your purse like you can x-ray vision through the fabric to see the napkin.

Then again, it isn’t like you actually need the napkin.

The number is already in your phone.

Pulling out your device, you set it on the kitchen counter and draw a slow, calculative inhale.

One more call can’t hurt.

Levi may not even be working.

Hell, he could be talking to someone else. 

A regular.

Several regulars.

For over five minutes you stare down at your most recent calls list, willing yourself to just get brave for one second to press the button.

(It isn’t like Porco’s going to call you.)

The soured thought propels your hand without thinking, fingertip pressing the green phone icon faster than you can think. 

You brace for the ringtone, fists balled tight on the cool kitchen surface.

“Thank you for calling the Scout Services Hotline. You’re only a dial away from your wildest fantasies with the sexiest singles near your area. If you already know your match’s extension, press one.”

You continue staring.

Are you really doing this?

It isn’t like it means anything, which is exactly what you need with the upcoming work week.

A distraction.

A very expensive distraction, but hey — you’ll avoid takeout for a few weeks.

How bad can it get?

“If you’re looking for someone specific —”

You press one.

.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading part one of my zany little 'Sleepless in Seattle' modern au! This has been a bluesky idea for a while now, and I needed a little reprieve from my other angsty Levi longfic silver underground, so I hope you enjoyed the ride.

There will be actual smut in part two, but as a Reader!Writer I had the thought of 'would I be suave enough to do the first phone call flawlessly or totally waste my free coupon'? and this chapter was born, lol. I promise this is not Porco slander.

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this new series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

[chrissdollie]

Dad Bakugo x mom reader - I need more children in my life 😭✋🏾

def calls his kid "squirt" and "buddy"

in mY universe, he has a boy and a girl bc he needs the best of both worlds

CALLS YOU "MA" GOODNIGHT

we all know he wakes up really early, earlier than you even, so he's the one to check on the babies/kids every morning to see if they're ok :)

definitely keeps schedules of you and your kids days like exams, report cards, if they're going to a friend's house, etc

yk how most kids tend to be like "ewwww" whenever their parents kiss?? not ur kids nono. first of all, your son is the quieter one. not that he's not talkative, he just has a little bit of a hard time expressing himself. anyhow, his sister is very loud. but either way, they both think its sweet. your daughter even said something like "i hope my husband kisses me like that" once (when she was an older kid tho lol)

your son goes to talk to you a lot. he adores you so so much. but one day when he wanted to hang out with you, you weren't home. you were busy running errands while katsuki was at home watching tv. your son started crying and katsuki was like wtf?? eventually, your son grew accustomed to speaking to katsuki. as he got older, he actually talked to him more than you.

teaches your son how to be a man :,) katsuki knew he was bitchy in his younger years and he didn't want either of his kids to be like him. he taught them both manners and how to properly have a conversation.

little pitter patter of their feet ran into your guys' shared bedroom on christmas morning and began jumping your bed. katsuki groaned and rubbed his eyes aggressively. "it's christmas, mommy!" your little boy shouted. "wake up daddy!!" your daughter shouted in his ear. "alright alright you rugrats"

at your daughter's kindergarten graduation (idk if everyone had this but i did lmao), katsuki was tearing up and although he tried to hide it, he had to remain the strong one while comforting you while you bawled your eyes out.

p.s your daughter is the oldest

when she brought home her first boyfriend... ooo chile

i see a lot of people writing how katsuki would act up but tbh in his older years, i think he'd be a lot more mature. he'd greet the dude politely and treat him like he would any of her friends

btw lemme just say: your daughter is a mommy AND daddy's girl. she loves u both insanely

honestly while eating dinner with the boyfriend or something, katsuki would be very blunt and not pay too much mind to him LMAOO he'd be like "'tis is great, doll" as if you don't cook dinner every week and it's only when your daughter brings up how he wants to work at katsuki's angency, where he perks up

"oh shit, no kiddin'?" and you smack his arm lightly.

well this changes everything! he practically gave the kid his blessing. "welcome to the family son"

your son doesn't really care about them together, he just doesn't wanna see his big sis get hurt. lets say that your son is 15 and your daughter is 17. "so, bf/n. have you fucked her?"

you almost spit out your drink like a cartoon. your daughter is shook, katsuki's rage from UA is all coming back to him, and the boyf is scared for his life

you, katsuki, and your daughter have a little talk after dinner

"use condoms" kats stated. "i- WH- nono you can have sex next year." you corrected but ur daughter is like huh?? "wha why next year?" you scoff. "because you'll be a legal adult thats why." "no offense, momma, but that's really dumb. when did you and dad start having sex?" she folded her arms. katsuki shrugged. "like i said, use condoms."

you and your daughter gossip like crazy alr?? ur like the gilmore girls except you're married and didn't get pregnant at 16 (almost)

and this is nothing new to katsuki, he's heard u guys gossip trillions of times. but when he found out you guys talked abouy HIM TOO??

he busts into the room. your daughter squeals and runs behind you. "hi honeyy-" he shushes you, "you guys talkin' shit 'bout me?" "nope" you guys say in unison. "there's this other guy, uh.."

[eddiesghxst]

stalker!eddie been on my mind someone see my through w this pls

obsessed with the idea of eddie just being a complete loser weirdo freak. nobody liked him as a kid and it put him in a corner where he could either be sad and lonely or do something distracting with his time— he did the latter.

he’s got these little fixations, things that keep him busy and entertained and he likes the rush he gets when he feels the need to learn everything about something— that’s where his love for dnd comes in. he likes that there’s not a single part of the game you could ever fool him about because he knows it like the back of his hand— almost as if he created it himself. he’s the same way with music— sits and listens to songs on repeat until he has every single pluck of the strings memorized to spin at his fingertips.

it’s his special thing. his superpower. to study things until they become a part of him. and that’s normal.

people can have fixations on things like games and hobbies and whatnot— that’s a normal thing to do.

what’s not normal is when eddie starts to feel this way about you.

suddenly it’s no longer an inanimate object he’s obsessing over. it’s no longer just a silly fantasy game or a limited edition guitar or a handcrafted dagger; no. this is a person. a human being.

he knows it’s not normal. knows it’s bad and he should probably stop before he does something stupid, but when eddie gets an urge to discover, fuck, he can’t stop.

youre not perfect. you’re not some angel sent from god, no, none of that insane cultish bullshit. he’s not exactly sure what it is about you that scratches that obsessive itch in him but it does and that’s dangerous.

he doesn’t realize it’s a problem at first. just thinks it’s a silly crush, no big deal he’s had plenty of those before. because it’s normal to smile at every little thing your crush does. and it’s normal to just want to sit there and stare at your crush all day long. that shit is normal.

but then he doesnt even realize what he’s doing when he offers you a ride home after class. he honestly and genuinely thinks he’s just being a good person by driving you home because it was raining and anyone with a decent heart would do the same.

but then he ends up coming back later that night. and he watches you through your window from across the street. watches for hours as you do your nightly routine, not even once getting a feeling that you’re not alone. he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing is so fucking wrong until you turn your lights off for bed and he’s left feeling like an audience at the end of a show. calling out for more.

he gets a sick feeling, knows it’s so wrong, what he’s done. goes home and panics and swears to himself that he’ll never do that weird shit again because he respects you and you don’t deserve this— and fucks sake this isn’t him! he would never do this to anyone!

but then he’s back the next night. and the next night. and the next.

and eventually he buys a camera. and eventually he knows when you’re home and when you’re not home. and eventually he’s sliding in through your window while you’re gone and he’s going through your things.

and eventually— fuck, he’s in too deep.

[adinafay]

I like to think Bhaal spends the entire timeline of BG3 just so incredibly confused and absolutely pissy about why he can't convince anyone - even his most special, Chosen, purest of Bhaalspawn- to murder for simple murder's sake.

Not that Bhaal doesn't appreciate murder more generally, but also how in the hells is he supposed to achieve global-genocide when everyone, even his own idiot kids, keeps using his precious murder as a mere tool, a means to their own ends, ya know?

He has to be a helicopter-parent to Durge about it:

Pre-tadpole Durge is so in-want of connection that they have to be under constant supervision by their specially-assigned butler to try and keep them on task. ("Stop bitching and let me live vicariously through you like all the other sport-parents!")

Then, even that isn't enough to stop them from connecting with Bane's lil shit "Gortash" and eventually starting in with the crown/Absolute plan ("Why in the hells are we using MY MURDER to help fucking Bane with his fucking tyranny?!")

Shortly after that Durge goes and gets merc'd and tadpoled by the other one... ("Have I taught my children nothing!? Orin really should know well by now that it's not 'murder' if they survive...")

... And then - clearly still prone to frivolous connection - they fucking gang up with a bunch of weirdos only to head home with other, new bad habits like "thinking for themselves" and "the apparent intent to entirely trash the plan they insisted on making with Gortash!" ("If you didn't want to play you shouldn't have had me sign you up for the team! Get your ass back in the game! You already got your Deathstalker uniform and everything! Now stop embarrassing me and maybe I'll even give you a slayer form.")

And, while Durge is being a rebellious lil Bhaalspawn, Bhaal also has to contend with:

His cultists, who are apparently killing mostly just for notoriety and/or safety amongst themselves. ("Quit playing around! I assure you I do not give a single fuck which one of you did it or how clean it was so long as the murder(s) did happen.")

Orin, who is playing at being an artist and completely absorbed in her exploration of murder and maiming as novel media to express her innumerable daddy issues ("Yes, I DO still like your lobotomized bloodkin more; at least they never wasted my time asking me to put all their shitty artwork up on the fridge.")

And Bane and Myrkul, who are presumably laughing their godly asses off and/or absolutely raging at Bhaal's inability to keep anyone at heel and how it's interfering with their mutual plan.

TL;DR: Life is hard when you're The God of Murder and neither your employees or your children properly respect the family business and your frenemies mock you for it.