#for a time climbing was very special to me...

[strawberrystepmom]

dante x f!reader. cw: mentions of rutting, demonfucking heavily implied. suggestive fluff, scars are discussed, he calls reader "kitty kitty". | wc 1.1k.

Evening has fallen and this is one of the rare and most special kind. 

Dante is home, wearing nothing but boxers on your couch, patting the space next to him. 

“Come on over and sit with me.”

There’s a reason you’ve been avoiding that very spot since he first sat down in the one next to it.

You know what he wants. 

It’s time to take an inventory – to look, feel, see, and make sure nothing about you is hurting or has changed since the last time he did this.

Standing in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and panties, it would be the easiest thing in the world to let him look over every inch of you in this bizarre ritual you think very well may have something to do with his demon side. 

It happens right before he enters a rut.

“Dante, noooooo, I’m tired.”

Sighing, he leans forward and plants his feet firmly on the ground in front of him.

“You can lay there the whole time and just let me do what I do, alright?”

Groaning, you slide onto the couch and lay flat with your arms at your sides, draping your legs over his lap. “Fine but don’t tickle me so much this time.”

Wiggling his fingers and brows at the same time, he slowly moves toward your face and cups it between his palms to turn it side to side. His eyes fall to your lips, the top one curling.

“Cat scratch…yup, still there. Can’t believe you let him do that to you.”

Him being the little orange cat you originally intended only to feed that made his way up your fire escape and started climbing through the window to invite himself inside. Said cat twists himself through Dante’s legs, rubbing against ankles and calves, clearly unaware of the criticism being lobbed at him.

“It was my fault for getting too close.”

You were swiped one evening after scaring him, entering your living room to see the skinny cat staring out of the window with the breeze flowing softly through curtains. It felt like a dream and you approached carefully, hand out, yet this cat had other ideas. A single sharp claw laid into your upper lip, leaving behind a gash that took a few weeks to look less angry and red. 

“All I’m saying is that this cat would’ve been toast if I’d been there.”

Shooting him a sidelong glance, you raise a brow. Felines and the woman he loves share many qualities. It would behoove him not to forget it.

“Sorry, kitty kitty,” he teases, leaning in to kiss your temple with a chuckle. “You know I’d never hurt a cat, not even a little punk like this one.” 

He softly pushes the purring beast with his foot, resulting in an unenthused meow. Large palms slide from your jaw down your neck, sliding over the outsides of both of your arms and finally settling at the dip of your waist. Your shirt – well, technically, his shirt – has managed to make its way over your ribs and stomach, exposing the next few scars he remembers.

Surgery, all three of them. Small and completely negligible. In lieu of asking, he spends a bit of time kissing your waist, lips leading a blazing trail to your belly button. 

Failed belly button piercing – another incident he’s better off not mentioning. He simply drags the flat of his tongue over the divot in your skin, your hips jerking involuntarily.

“Stop that, you’re supposed to be only looking.” You warn, gently pushing his face off of you. 

He smiles, catching your hand halfway. “Spread ‘em.”

Your eyes widen and he scoffs, mouth falling into a flat line. Giggling, you spread your fingers so he can look at each one. No new scratches, cuts, or burns. A couple old ones from a few weeks ago remain yet everything else looks ordinary.

He curls your fingers around his hand, kissing your knuckles. 

“Aren’t you almost done?” 

Whining is futile and certainly will not end your predicament. You stick your bottom lip out regardless, hoping for a little pity from your thorough lover. 

Dante shakes his head, picking up your foot and holding it. He gently guides your leg to bend at the knee, free hand dragging up your thigh. Nothing of note that he notices until his eyes land at your knee and…

“And this one?”

You giggle, sitting up to look over your knee to match where his eyes are resting.

“Not new, you’ve seen it a hundred times.” He narrows his eyes to indicate his disbelief. You sigh, pointing at the silvery skin. “That’s where I fell skipping around when I was a little girl, remember? The rock got stuck in my knee?”

The story rings just enough of a bell, prying further feels like a waste of time. Dante hums thoughtfully, moving on in his little mental inventory, eyes now falling to a missing chunk on the back of your calf.

“That’s the shaving incident, right?” 

He was there and remembers the mess of blood well. He also remembers how sick it made him feel to see any amount of your blood splattered across bathroom tiles and towels, diluted with water and washed down the drain. 

Even a non-violent instance of your suffering made every instinct in his body scream to make it better.

“Yup, it took a whole chunk. Thank god you were here to help me.”

Smiling, he looks away. His heart is too full to look at you.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s no big deal.” he mutters, suddenly placing your leg back down.

“Looks like you’re in tip top shape, honey.”

You aren’t sure where he’s running off to in his own head but you know exactly how to stop it, sitting up in a fluid motion to slide into his lap. Placing your thighs on the outside of his, you straddle him and place your arms around his neck.

“Thanks for the tune up.”

And just like that he returns to you, baby blues softening and twinkling while they meet your eyes. 

“It’s the least I can do. You are my prized possession after all.”

If only you understood just how much he means it.

[bitchinbarzal]

Sloane meeting sloane, fic idea??!?

The Other Sloane

⸻

“Mama,” Sloane says from the backseat, swinging her legs and kicking the front of her car seat. “Are we close to the pancake place?”

You glance at Joe and try not to smile. He’s already biting his lip, trying not to laugh.

“You mean the diner?” you ask, twisting in your seat a little.

Sloane nods big. “The one where Daddy fell in love. With you.”

Joe snorts softly. “She’s been rehearsing this in her head all morning.”

“Because I need to meet her,” Sloane explains like it’s obvious. “The lady. The Sloane lady. I was named cause she said somethin’ smart.”

“You remember what she said?” Joe asks, eyes still on the road.

Sloane hums dramatically, holding Bunny up like a prop.

“She said… she said… ‘That’s your girl.’” She grins. “And Daddy got brave.”

“I like her already,” Sloane decides, like that seals it. “She’s smart. She knew Mama was the best.”

Joe slows as they roll into the lot, and Sloane lets out a sharp gasp like she’s seeing a castle.

“That’s it!” she shouts, kicking excitedly. “That’s where you eated and the lady saw you bein’ in love!”

“It looks the same,” Joe murmurs.

The cracked sign. The crooked blinds in the window. The soft neon glow behind the screen door.

Sloane grabs your hand the second she’s unbuckled.

The bell above the door jingles as you walk in, and Joe squeezes your hand once as he heads toward the host stand. It’s mostly empty, mid-afternoon quiet.

You hear a voice call from the kitchen.

“One second, sugar!”

Sloane tugs your shirt urgently. “That her? That the other me?”

You kneel next to her. “Let’s wait and see.”

A moment later, a woman with silver-streaked curls and a notepad tucked in her apron walks out from the back. She freezes mid-step when she sees you. Then, slowly, a warm smile spreads across her face.

“Well, well,” she says softly. “I’ll be damned.”

Joe laughs. “You remember us?”

“Baby, I told you you’d marry that girl,” she says, pointing her pen at you, eyes full of something close to wonder. “And now you’ve got—” She squints at Sloane. “Well, look at that.”

Sloane steps forward boldly.

“Hi. I’m Sloane.”

The woman presses a hand to her heart.

“No.”

“Yes-huh!” Sloane says proudly, then frowns. “You helped Daddy be brave. So I needed to come say thank you. And show you my bunny.”

She holds up her very well-loved rabbit.

“Well, it is so nice to meet you, Miss Sloane,” the woman says, crouching slightly. “You are even cuter than I imagined.”

Sloane leans in, stage-whispers, “I’m three. And I can spell my name and do jumpin’.”

Joe clears his throat behind you. “We haven’t been back here since that night.”

“I remember it clear as day,” she says, standing again. “Y’all sat right there. You,” she points to Joe, “kept lookin’ at her like she hung the moon. And when she went to the restroom, you had that same face my husband did when he saw me for the first time.”

Joe smiles. “I was a goner.”

“You still are,” you murmur.

Sloane is busy climbing into a booth now, patting the seat beside her. “Can she sit with us? Can we get pancakes?”

“You want me to eat with y’all?” the woman asks, clearly charmed.

“Yes. You’re my special person. You’re the other Sloane.”

The woman blinks a little too fast and quickly wipes her hands on her apron.

“Well how could I say no to that?”

They bring out a stack of pancakes with whipped cream and extra syrup. Joe gets coffee and eggs. You get toast you don’t even remember ordering.

“My daddy plays football,” she tells her namesake. “But sometimes he gets boo-boos, and then I have to be doctor.”

“Oh, that’s important work,” the woman says.

“Uh-huh. And my mama is the best mama and she makes me my hair pretty. And she always smells good. You were right about her.”

“I’m glad I was,” the woman says, eyes shining.

“And I don’t got no baby brother or sister yet, but that’s okay cause they say I’m the best one.”

Joe chokes slightly on his coffee. You pat his back.

The woman leans in, looking at you both.

“Can I ask something?”

“Of course,” you say.

“Why’d you really choose my name?”

You look at Joe, who’s already watching you. Then you glance at Sloane, cheeks sticky with syrup and a little curl stuck to her forehead.

“Because you saw it before we did,” Joe says. “And because you were part of our beginning. We didn’t know it yet. But you did.”

You reach for his hand under the table.

“And now she’s our whole world.”

The woman’s eyes fill again. She nods, looking between you both and the tiny human sitting across from her with bunny ears hanging out of her hoodie.

When you leave, Sloane insists on giving her a hug. Then another. Then a drawing she makes on a napkin with the purple crayon from the kids’ menu. It’s just four stick figures and a bunny.

Joe carries her out with a soft “say goodbye, babygirl” and she waves dramatically over his shoulder.

“Bye-bye, other me! Love you!”

And just like that, the door jingles shut behind you.

[reginaphalangelobster]

Cuddles, Laughter and Forever

Sam Winchester x GN!Reader

Summary: A cold, late night researching in the bunker leads you and Sam to warm each other up, much to Dean's annoyance.

Warnings: none really, fluff, annoyed Dean but he really does care and thinks your sweet together, Sam calls reader "baby" once.

Word Count: 500

Requested

A/n: Recently been writing a lot of angst so this little fluffy drabble is such a cute change of pace, thank you for the request!

You were supposed to be researching. Key word being "supposed". It was just so hard, sitting there in the library, so cold and so close to Sam. The heating was playing up again and you just couldn't help but climb into his lap. Not that he minded, at all.

You curled up to him and he pulled you in tight, laughing lightly and looking at you with that soft, sweet smile. The one reserved solely for you. You wiggled around a little, getting comfortable and picked up your old law book again.

"Um, what do you think you're doing?" He asked in a playful tone.

"Cuddling? I was cold"

"Not that, the book" He said as he gestured to the book in your hands.

"What? You were the one who said, and I quote" You paused as you put on your best awful impersonation of Sam "We need to research even if it kills us, this time is really important guys!"

"Okay, first of all, I do not sound like that"

"Mm" You scrunched your nose "You kinda do though"

He just grinned and shook his head at you.

"And second, Dean left an hour ago, surely we deserve a break too"

"Well, I guess it is a little cold and pretty late, a little break wouldn't kills us, would it?"

"Nope, don't think so. Even if it does, I'll die a happy man"

You giggled as you threw the book into the table with a loud thud.

"Oops, I hope I didn't wake up Dean"

"I hope you did, I love how annoyed gets when he sees us cuddling"

"Yeah" You laughed "Like that time in Baby's backseat"

"You mean when he pulled over and said "No cuddling in my car, nuh uh""

"Then he said "Sammy, in the front, now!""

"Neither of us can do impressions, huh?"

"Not to save ourselves"

You both laughed your asses off and it echoed through the bunked, unknowingly waking a very annoyed Dean.

You looked up at Sam and saw the total adoration in his eyes.

"I love you" You said like it was the easiest thing in the world, and it was.

You had both said it before but it felt special every time.

"I love you too, baby"

Your lips met in a small but sweet kiss, soft and domestic, before someone interrupted you.

"Oh god, get a room guys! And stop traumatizing me, damn it"

"We have a room Dean" Sam said a little smugly as he turned to his brother.

"Then use it!" Dean yelled over his shoulder as he left the room with a huff, leaving you and Sam still sitting together, now laughing again.

You could cuddle up to him and laugh together forever.

Tags:

@dianawinchester03 @pinkthick @craftytacopiecash @meryuniverse @aliljaybird @macbaetwo @castielshunterwife @scarletluvsdanno @twentyonetornmyheart @neospacedoctor @destiel-1967-sammy @yigashimei @something0193 @ursamajor17 @colorfulavenuecollection @fairytailnerd1024-blog @daithideolishmer18 @am-i-the-villain-co @mameeta @bblessed @maximum-uwu @bbywonu @fmlariel @lipstickandlifts

[suddencolds]

. not snz

on healing and on fear (tags)

[scribz-ag24]

I've recently seen again a post talking about the Sableye and Dusknoir's relationship so i'd like to put my two cents in the discussion, for I love screaming into the void about PMD. (this isnt meant to discourage any other interpretations btw this is just my take on theirs and Dusknoir's relationship, bc I think they're very fun characters and I am very glad the game actually gives these minions a bit of relevance in se5).

Tbh I don't buy that Dusknoir treats the Sableye nicely, at least not out of kindness. I don't think he's a tyrant or inexplicably mean, of course, and I think his minions ADORE him, but i also believe that doesn't mean he's nice to them, sth that i consider meaningful for their character arcs.

Throughout the entire game he's exclusively giving them orders, in se5 he concocts a plan that involves thrashing them MULTIPLE times (he's lucky Grovyle isn't one to try and kill enemies in battle ig), and the cherry on top is that the first time we see him being fully genuine he does this:

(yes, he is in turmoil in here, but there's not a single thing implying that 1. this is an unusual response towards the sablye, 2. dusknoir feels bad for it at some point or is surprised at himself, 3. this has any impact in the sableye at all. You can argue these reactions happen off screen and we don't see them, they don't happen bc they have pressing matters to attend to or they happen after they return to life, and that's perfectly valid, but i'm sticking with what the game shows us, here.)

I must say, though, the fact that the Sableye, despite having been almost mindless pokémon up to now, STAND UP TO AND ATTACK Primal Dialga for their boss and even try to look after him despite him ordering them to check on Grovyle and Celebi first is SO important to me. they are goons to the bone and they love that scheming ghost so much.

My own view is that Dusknoir is generally polite to them (you wouldn't randomly break your own revolver or weapon without any reason, would you?), but is quicker to get mean with them than with people he doesn't know or he is seeking to manipulate. He doesn't care about their behaviour as long as they get the job done, which is why I think the anime thing of the Sableye climbing onto his shoulder isn't that remarkable, rather it's a very cute moment, one that is showing how they've been working together for long and how their size difference affects their interactions, but it is not necessarily conveying an affectionate bond (this is a bit random, but it reminds me of Disney's Jafar with Iago lmao. throw your pet sableye at your enemies so they mock them and then return to your shoulder). Additionally, Dusknoir letting the Sableye onto his shoulder is probably as close as we are gonna get to a villain turning around in his chair while petting a cat in PMD lol.

[this isn't meant to be a one-to-one comparison, it's just a detail i find cute and shows that this gesture can have multiple interpretations, with none being the only right one]

Leaving that aside, I hesitate to claim Dusknoir trusts his Sableye as allies, as Grovyle makes a point in the main story of how the Sableye (your Sableye, he says, as if objectifying them; not friends, but tools, weapons at Dusknoir's disposal) are lacking compared to the way hero/partner/grovyle support one another (power of friendship and hidden information babyyyy). The Sableye are used to Dusknoir's way of doing things, though, I'm sure. They know what happens when he's displeased, after all.

I think, most of all, the Sableye are meant to look disposable: they are 6 identical pokémon that almost act like a hivemind, and we are not supposed to think at all about how we may hurt them in battle any more than we do with the angry Manectric pack or random dungeon pokémon. This, I believe, is why the game has them stand up against Dialga and gives them unique dialogue at the end of se5. They're meant to show their inner shine, just as Dusknoir managed to do. They suddenly gain an individuality they had never shown while they were working to maintain the dark future.

Where they abandoned Dusknoir in the Old Ruins, now Grovyle has motivated them to look for their dignity and fight for a better world, and that starts with protecting their leader from Primal Dialga's rampage, and supporting his new objective and allies in their quest to save the future. In their own small way, they've also grown as characters throughout SE5.

I believe that, overall, Dusknoir saw the Sableye as tools, but thanks to their growth and clear care for him, there's a possibility he might start to see them (and by extension other pokémon) in a more genuine, less pragmatic / objectifying way in the future. Now that Dusknoir has the chance to live a fulfilling life, he may learn to care for others without surrounding himself by so many walls. If anything, I think their future is quite bright. Not that the Sableye would mind if he still thrashed them around, though lol, they're clearly not bothered much by it (special episode 0 had a great depiction of the sableye imo, you can check that romhack if you haven't yet).

In conclusion, look at these little guys who adore their can-get-mean-but-is-mostly-polite boss and probably have a body count but now are good, they're so cute:

[thedreadpoetroberts]

You can be really smart and still have a learning disability.

You can be really smart and still have a learning disability.

You can be really smart and still have a learning disability.

[louderfade]

The Cucumber Tree Magnolia (Magnolia accuminata) in Colonial Heights, Virginia sits in front of the Violet Bank Museum overlooking the Appomattox River and Old Town Petersburg. When viewing the tree for the first time, it looks almost comical in size and stature next to the relatively small museum building with its white peeling paint. This particular Cucumber Tree Magnolia is also estimated to be the second largest of its species in the world, with a nearly 23-foot circumference, making it that much more spectacular.

The idea of a record-holding tree usually conjures images of extremely tall trees with enormous towering crowns, but that is not this tree. Instead it’s almost the inverse with a relatively stout height but an extreme girth and outstretched, over-extended limbs that are trees in their own right. The first main scaffold limbs on the tree are at least 24 inches in diameter. They gracefully extend until their massive weight pulls them to rest on the ground.

Viewed up close, a variety of failed arboricultural practices can be seen almost as a museum in itself. Large pilings have been placed in the ground to hold up several of the low limbs, which can be argued do as much if not more damage than the tree supporting itself on the ground.  Scattered throughout the canopy are decades worth of steel cables and supports that long-ago arborists installed to maintain the tree and with time many of them have broken or gone slack. It’s most interesting to see such failed support systems hanging from limbs that have once again provided their own support on the soil.

[murasaki-cha]

After the Ithaca Saga, I believe that Odysseus thought he and Athena were officially done forever and would only occasionally see each other because she was mentoring Telemachus now. He really thinks there's no way they can reconnect anymore and attempt at a friendship this time, but he's fine with it, he can accept it.

That is until Telemachus goes up to him one day like:

"Hey father, can I ask you something?"

"Yes son, of course."

"You mentored under Athena before right? Do you happen to know a friend of hers?"

"Oh I... I wasn't aware Athena had friends before. She was very adamant about that "No Friends" rule back then... kind of stings."

"Oh really? She talks about him a lot."

"Does she now? *mumbling* must be so special about this fRieNd of Athena..."

"Yeah she told me about this one time he wanted to impress someone, so he climbed on all the way to the tree branch next to the balcony of their room and leaned against the trunk to look cool, but he kept talking to Athena in her owl appearance so he didn't notice the other person going to the balcony and he got so spooked when they called out to him, he turned too fast and lost balance, slipped, smacked his ass on the tree branch and broke his arm when he fell, so he had to wear a sling for 3 months and couldn't sit down for 2 weeks."

"....call Athena right now."

"Why-"

"ATHENA!!!"

The second Athena appeared, Odysseus threw himself at her, on one hand going "YOU CONSIDER ME YOUR FRIEND WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO!?!?!?!" and on the other going "WHY ARE YOU TELLING MY SON ALL MY EMBARRASSING STORIES!?!?! THAT WAS BETWEEN ME, PENELOPE AND YOU!!"

He was actually crying. Athena has absolutely no idea what is happening or what she should do. Telemachus just discovered a whole new side of his dad and might know where he gets it from now....

[mooningningg]

"ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ? ʜᴏᴡ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴀʙɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ?"

Sukuna, Toji, Nanami, Gojo, Suguru, and Choso.

Genre, Fluff!!! Notes, what a fun request from an anon, I had sooo much fun making this.

★ SUKUNA RYOMEN

He was lounging on the couch, one arm behind his head, the TV playing something he wasn’t watching. His son climbed up beside him, plopped onto his stomach, and asked the forbidden words.

“Daddy? How are babies made?”

Sukuna blinked. “What?”

“Babies,” the kid repeated innocently. “Like… where do they come from? How do they get in tummies?”

He sat up like he’d been electrocuted.

“Who the hell taught you that question?” Sukuna demanded, scowling.

“No one,” his son said with a shrug. “I just thought maybe you’d know.”

Sukuna looked around like he was searching for backup. “Shit. Why the fuck ain’t your mother here for this?”

“Is it a secret?” the kid asked, eyes wide.

Sukuna scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, the kind that ruins childhoods.”

He sighed hard, then muttered, “Fine. Babies are made when—when two people… ugh. Never mind.”

“Do you even know, Daddy?” his son said smugly.

“Course I know! I made you, didn’t I?” Sukuna snapped. Then paused. “Shit, that sounded worse.”

He got up. “Go ask your mother. Or Google. Actually, no, don’t Google. I’ll block the internet.”

When you walked in and asked what was going on, Sukuna pointed at your son and shouted, “Your spawn asked me about reproduction. You deal with it. I’m going outside to scream.”

★ TOJI FUSHIGURO

You weren’t home. It was just Toji and his son at the dinner table. Spaghetti night. Sauce on faces. Vibes were immaculate.

Until your kid slurped a noodle and casually asked:

“Dad, how do babies get in mommies’ tummies?”

Toji froze, fork mid-air.

“Uh… what?” he asked, swallowing too fast.

“Like, how was I made?”

Toji looked around. “Shit. I was hoping I’d be dead before this conversation.”

His son tilted his head. “So…?”

“Alright, listen,” Toji muttered, rubbing his face. “There’s a thing called privacy, yeah? And your mom and I—we, uh…”

He trailed off.

His son blinked. “Do you not know either?”

“Don’t get smart with me, I invented you,” Toji grumbled.

Then he leaned forward, voice low.

“Look. When two people love each other, or get bored enough, they… do a thing. A grown-up thing. That ends with nine months of suffering and one hospital bill.”

“Oh,” said his son.

Toji leaned back, relieved—until the boy said, “So like wrestling?”

“…Worse.”

★ KENTO NANAMI

He was reading the paper when his daughter padded into the room and tugged on his sleeve.

“Papa?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

She looked up at him, serious as a heart attack. “How are babies made?”

Nanami blinked slowly.

He folded the paper with surgeon-like precision. Set it down. Cleared his throat.

“I see.”

His daughter waited, eyes wide.

“Well,” he said, straightening his tie despite being at home, “When two adults love each other very much, they share a special moment. That moment creates life.”

His daughter nodded thoughtfully.

“And how does that moment work?”

Nanami stared into the void.

You walked in just in time to hear him say, “—and that’s why you’ll learn biology when you’re older.”

You raised a brow. “What did she ask?”

“She asked how babies are made,” Nanami said plainly. “And I gave her a legally sound, age-appropriate, emotionally distant answer.”

“…So you avoided it?”

“I restructured it.”

★ GOJO SATORU

“Dad, how are babies made?”

Gojo choked on his juice box.

You both stared at him as he sputtered.

“Where—where did that come from? Who put you up to this? Was it Nanami? This feels like a Nanami thing.”

“Just tell me!” your child whined.

Gojo held up a finger, suddenly Very Serious. “Okay. But only because I love you and I don’t want you to learn from the internet.”

He bent down to their level. “Babies are made when two adults really love each other. Or when they make a huge mistake. Either or.”

You smacked his shoulder. “Satoru—”

“I’m kidding!” he laughed. “Okay, for real—when two people kiss real hard, and cuddle super close, a magic stork comes from the clouds and—”

“Liar,” your kid frowned.

Gojo clutched his chest. “Wounded! My own child!”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll handle this.”

He grinned. “Please do. I'm sweating.”

★ GETO SUGURU

It was quiet. Too quiet. Suguru was sipping tea, reading peacefully, when your daughter crawled into his lap.

“Daddy?”

He hummed. “Yes, darling?”

“How are babies made?”

Suguru blinked.

Set the tea down. Smiled politely. “You know… I think that’s a question best saved for when you’re a bit older.”

“But I wanna know now,” she pouted.

He tilted his head. “Alright. Well… there’s a seed. A very special one. That’s kept safely in a… garden.”

You walked in right as he said that.

“A garden?” you repeated.

“It’s a metaphor,” he said, not missing a beat.

Your daughter squinted. “So you planted a seed in Mommy’s tummy?”

Suguru smiled. “Exactly.”

You: “Don’t teach our daughter flower sex.”

Suguru: “I panicked.”

★ CHOSO KAMO

He was lying on the floor with your kid watching cartoons when the question dropped like a bomb.

“Dad, how are babies made?”

Choso blinked slowly. “Huh?”

“I mean… where did I come from?”

He sat up, thinking hard. “Okay. You ever seen cake batter?”

Your child blinked. “What?”

“So like, Mommy and I are the ingredients. But there’s mixing involved. Stirring. Heat. A whole mess.”

“Did you bake me?!”

Choso snorted. “Kinda.”

You peeked in from the kitchen. “Choso!”

He turned. “I’m making it fun!”

Your child gasped. “Am I a cupcake?”

“More like a spicy muffin,” Choso said proudly.

You sighed. “I’ll buy a book.”

[frenchkisstheabyss]

☆ ａｂｏｕｔ ａ ｇｉｒｌ☆

☆ Pairing: rockstar!best friend!mingi x chubby!fem!reader

☆ Genre: rocker au/smut/fluff/friends to lovers

☆ Word Count: 4.4k

☆ Summary: During a late night hang out session your innocent request to color in your best friend's tattoos leads to a revelation about the not so platonic feelings you've held for him. Mingi's a rockstar. One of the best guitarists there is. Every boy you know wants to be him and every girl you know wants to be on top of him. In your eyes, the odds that his feelings are mutual are slim to none but a girl's gotta be wrong sometimes.

☆ Warnings: heavily tattooed mingi, he has a tongue piercing too, bestie wooyoung pops in to stir shit up, drug use (just weed), body worship, dry humping, female masturbation, marking, some soft dom mingi moments, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, spanking, nibbling, scratching, unprotected sex, his dick is kinda (very) big, doggy style, squirting, creampie, pet names (baby, good girl), affectionate use of the word whore (towards Mingi).

☆ A/N: Rockerteez has a special place in my heart, especially rocker Mingi, so I absolutely had to write something for him. I hope this satisfies something for all of my chubby alt girls out there who crush on this man just as hard as I do. Love you guys xoxo byeee.

Mingi can’t say no to you. It’s been that way since the beginning of your friendship. Craving ice cream in the middle of the night? He’ll drive you to every convenience store in a 10 mile radius just to make sure you get the flavor you want. You want tickets to a sold out concert for your favorite band? He’ll pull every string he can behind the scenes to make sure you get them.

You’ve turned into a brat, spoiled rotten to the core, and he can only blame himself for it. Tonight might’ve been the night that he stood up to you if you didn’t look so adorable making the silliest request he’s ever heard. 

You were standing at the edge of his bed rocking nothing but a baggy Linkin Park tee you stole from his drawer and a pair of black panties not meant to impress but cute all the same. Your cheeks were still stained with glitter from tonight’s concert and remnants of smeared mascara lingered in the wake of some discount makeup wipes that didn’t quite do the trick. 

“Just let me color in your tattoos. Like this, see?” You held your phone up to his face, his nose a fraction of an inch from the screen where a girl was busy coloring in the free space of her boyfriend’s tattoos. 

Mingi had been lying on his back, scrolling his own phone as he patiently awaited your return from the kitchen. Snacks. You were supposed to bring back snacks, not a fistful of random markers you found in the kitchen drawer and some impulsive idea you got from Tiktok. 

“No. I’ll get skin cancer or something” he huffed, rolling his eyes and flopping back down on the bed. 

“Oh, because you’re so concerned about your health” you teased, eyeing the shiny chrome vape pen perched between two plush rosy lips. 

Mingi casually drew in a breath, letting the peach infused smoke fill his lugs. “THC is healthy. Whatever the fuck’s in those isn’t.”

Clearing your throat, you hopped onto the bed, spreading the markers out to inspect. “Actually, these are vegan markers so they’re safe. It’s basically the rules, so…let me do it.”

“No…” he started but you were already pouting, your eyelashes batting away fake tears. It was a cheap trick to pull, especially when you know how it always gets to him, but it worked.

“Fine but you’ve got 15 minutes. That’s it.” 

You wasted no time climbing on top of him, popping the caps of the markers off and getting straight to work. Lucky for you Mingi has more tattoos than free skin on his chest. Even luckier, he has zero ability to track time.

An hour’s passed and you’re still here, straddling his lap and doodling away. You hum along to the song on his record player. It’s a vaguely familiar tune, some alt rock album that dropped before Mingi even hit middle school. 

Mingi’s yet to admit it—he actually hasn’t said a word to you since you started—but this is the most relaxed he’s been in the longest time. Everyone thinks that being in a band is one big party. The tours. The magazine spreads. The concerts. The groupies. But there’s more to it than that. Being an artist takes from you in ways the rest of the world couldn’t imagine. Something about sharing this time with you gives a little bit of that back to him. 

He steals a glance at you, eyes flicking back to his phone before you catch him in the act. You’re pretty. Not the disposable kind of pretty that you admire for one night and forget about when the alcohol wears off in the morning. You’re the irreplaceable kind of pretty. The kind that’s too pure to pursue but too precious to let slip out of his reach.

Your friendship’s never been for show. The bond he has with you—the love he feels—all of it’s genuine. But he can’t say there’s nothing else so he says nothing at all. He just lies here, your human canvas, enjoying the feeling of your weight in his lap and your soft hands brushing against his skin. 

“I’m running to the store. You want something?” Wooyoung asks, bursting through the door. 

It’s a house rule that all bandmates knock before coming in but Wooyoung’s never been one to care. His room is his room and everyone else’s room is his too.

“My bad, am I interrupting something?” 

You and Mingi’s heads turn towards the door in unison and your reactions are are identical. “Something like what?”

Wooyoung cracks a smile, tickled by you two syncing up like bluetooth headphones. “You tell me. I’m not the one who has their best friend in cowgirl right now.” 

A marker goes flying across the room at him and he dodges it like a pro. “It’s not like that and you know it’s not” you say, pretending not to know what a lie that is.

It’s not an outright lie. It’s nothing, it truly is, but you can’t ignore what this position’s been doing to you. Mingi’s a gorgeous man. Gorgeous enough to make you wish you were just another groupie some days. It’s inevitable that your vicinity to him might leave your pulse racing now and then. Maybe get you a bit wetter than anything the natural warmth of your body could do. You feel a twinge of guilt for it but not nearly enough to get up. 

“If it’s not like that then what’s it like?” Wooyoung presses, paying no mind to the growing frustration on his bandmate’s face. Mingi’s pisssed but that’s never stopped Wooyoung before. 

“It’s like you getting out of my room” Mingi snaps, “Where’s San? Doesn’t one of you die if you aren’t attached at the hip 24 hours a day?”

Wooyoung cocks an eyebrow, arms folded across his chest, “You should talk.”

“Woo, I’m serious. Mingi and I are just friends. That’s it. You see the type of girls who wait for him backstage. Do any of them look like me?” 

Your question’s met with silence from both men. They share a knowing glance. Wooyoung knows something you don’t and Mingi dares him to open his mouth unless he wants to die. 

“Didn’t think so” you gloat, getting back to your coloring, “I will take something from the store though. Some chips please. My usual. Want something, Min?”

“Just for him to get out of my room. Quickly.” 

“Got it. Chips for the lady and for the gentleman…” Wooyoung flips Mingi off as he backs out of the room.

Mingi returns the gesture, “I love you too!”

You laugh to yourself, shaking your head at their immaturity. On stage all anyone sees are the piercings and the tattoos. They think that they’re edgy…bad boys. But they’re dorks through and through. Ones you’re happy to be around but dorks nonetheless. 

“And what’s so funny?” he frowns, propping himself up on his elbows. 

Tossing your marker aside, you trade it out for the vape resting at Mingi’s side. You take a puff, leaning forward to blow the smoke right into his face. “You.”

Mingi does nothing. He only sits there letting the smoke dance across his face. You’ve done a lot of hot things since the two of you’ve met and that was without a doubt one of them. You’re on top of him, your back arched, plush thighs caging him in on each side. No bra. No pants. And that face—those lips so dangerously close to his. 

A long moment passes between you. The silence adds another layer of tension to what each of you has already been hiding. 

“Just because they wait for me backstage doesn’t mean they’re my type” he says, catching you off guard. 

It takes a second for you to register what he's said and when you do your brain short circuits. “Min, I mean…I wasn’t…it doesn’t matter.”

Mingi cocks his head, strands of platinum hair falling into his face. “What do you think my type is exactly?” 

You sit back up in his lap, taking another puff to calm your nerves. “I don’t know but last I checked you didn’t have a fat girl fetish.”

“It’s not a fetish.” Mingi pushes himself up to face you, refusing to let you run away so easily. His gaze trails over you like fingertips tracing your curves. “I just like what I like and what I like happens to be girls with some meat on their bones. Is that okay with you?”

Brushing off his comment, you place a hand on his chest to push him back down. “You’re being weird.”

He doesn’t budge. He just stares into your eyes, searching for whatever it is that you’re fighting so hard to keep hidden from him. He knows it’s there. It’s in the way your black nails are nervously drumming against his chest. It’s in the shortness of your breath and the subconscious rocking of your hips in his lap. But he wants to see it in your eyes. He needs to. 

“Is that the only reason then?” he asks, slipping an arm around you, “You think nothing’s happened between us because of your body? Which is beautiful by the way.”

You blush, playfully swatting him on the cheek, “Stop. It’s not just that. You and I, we're friends, that's it. Even when you say stuff like that to tease me, I know you only see me as a friend.”

“And what do you see me as?” His voice is deep on any regular day but the way it dips when he asks the question has a bass to it that has you sweating. 

You stumble on your words, fighting to make sense of the alphabet soup that is your brain. You don’t work for the CIA. You weren’t prepped to hold up to interrogation. That’s exactly what this feels like because that’s exactly what this is. Mingi wants an answer, a clear one, and you know better than anyone that when he locks in on something he never backs down. 

“You’re someone who means to me, Min. Someone I’d rather not lose by thinking something’s there when it’s not…”

You have more to say but you can’t for the life of you remember what it was after Mingi’s lips collide with yours. He lays back, finally, and he takes you with him, your body flush against his as he kisses you with a hunger you didn’t know he possessed.

It’s a wild, breathless kiss. It’s wet lips and little nibbles, tongues intertwining and fingers tangling in hair. There’s no more holding back. No reason to pretend that you don’t want what both of you have all along. It’s a relief for Mingi who's been quietly going through hell for the past hour trying not to get hard with you seated on top of him. 

He thought of everything he could to ignore how good it felt to have you resting against his length but now all he can think of is you. It’s dizzying how quickly all of the blood in his body rushes between his legs, his length swelling as he takes greedy handfuls of your figure. You shiver the first time you feel him, a moan as light as air leaving your lips. 

“Where’d that come from?” you giggle, hips rolling to chase the friction. 

Mingi pushes you onto your back, lips latching onto your neck before you even hit the mattress. 

His hands dip beneath your borrowed shirt. It’s one of his favorites but right now he can’t stand the sight of it. He needs to feel the smoothness of your bare skin…feel your curves give beneath his touch. 

“You want some more?” he asks, dragging his tongue across your skin, igniting you like a match.

“Oh, fuck, yes…” you moan at the pressure of his fingertips massaging your breast.

He brushes his thumb across your nipple and it stiffens as if on command. Your whole body’s calling out his name—screaming it—begging for his attention. Mingi presses down onto you, his cock throbbing like a heartbeat against your core with every grind of his hips. Moisture trickles down your slit, soaking your panties to the point of uselessness.

You can’t say it's ever crossed your mind to dry hump a rockstar but thanks to Mingi it’s quickly become your new favorite thing. You could lay here all night moaning and whimpering, making a sticky mess all over his sweatpants while he marks your neck up like you’re his property. Well, maybe not all night. Your mind’s already flooded with thoughts of how badly you need him inside you. Good thing he doesn’t intend to make you wait much longer. 

“This shirt, take it off” he demands, already tugging it up your figure.

Mingi climbs onto his knees, sitting back to give you the room you need to slip the shirt over your head. He can’t tell where it lands, he doesn’t really care. All that matters to him is that there’s a goddess lying between his legs, one ruined pair of panties away from being completely naked. He lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. You’re a gift so perfectly designed to suit his every desire that he must be dreaming. 

“What’s wrong, Min? Never seen a naked girl before?” you tease, your nervous laughter triggering something in him. 

Mingi’s expression darkness like you’ve only seen it when he’s deathly serious about something. “Not like this…” he says, his hands patiently exploring your body, savoring every part of you. “And you thought you weren’t my type? When you’re this pretty—your cute belly, those stretchmarks, these thighs—you think I haven’t worshipped you since the day I met you?”

He pushes your knees up just enough to slip your panties down, “I remember Yunho brought you backstage after the show. You had on those heels and that tiny leather skirt. You were so fucking pretty and all I could think was, ‘I wonder what it’d be like to have those thighs around my neck’. You gonna let me find out?”

Mingi spreads your legs, running his fingers through your glistening pussy. His fingers are coated in seconds, so shiny and wet with your arousal that they slip inside of you effortlessly. He crawls onto his stomach, licking his lips as his fingertips stroke your walls. 

“Aah…mmph…Mingi” you whine, gripping the sheets as he adds another finger.

“I like the sound of my name but that’s not an answer, baby. I need you to tell me.” He licks the tip of your clit, his silver tongue piercing glinting in the light as he teases you, “Can I eat your pussy or you want me to beg for it?”

“No begging. Just fucking do it.” 

Mingi doesn’t need to be told twice. He buries his face between your legs, suckling and slurping, eating you up like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have. Your thighs slip over his shoulders and he grabs onto them with both hands, kneading their softness as his tongue dips into you. You try to keep it together but you’re  too sensitive to control how much you tremble when he laps at the ridges of your walls.

You grab him by the hair, not guiding him, just feeling him. You don’t know if it’s the drugs or the way his tongue’s swirling around inside you but it’s like you're floating. Your body’s buzzing with pleasure and when he reaches up to pinch your clit you’re on the verge of falling to pieces. 

And that’s right where he keeps you, dancing on the edge of complete ruin. Occasionally he glances up at you, not caring now if you catch him looking. He wants to see you…wants you to see him. You lock eyes and he hums his satisfaction at every pretty face you make.

A mentor once told him that every girl’s a guitar. You’ve just gotta pay enough attention to know how to tune her. A skilled musician if nothing else, Mingi knows how to tune you just right. He knows which dials to turn to make you sing. He’s strumming every string, hitting every note that he needs to for that fullness to build in your lower belly. It’s never felt this good to be close before, it’s almost too much to take and you inch up on the bed, desperate for a break.

Mingi grabs you by the hips before you can get too far, dragging you back down onto his face. “No running” he grins, “Now be a good girl and stay still for me.”

There’s no time to be shocked by his boldness. You’re right back where you left off. Back arching, legs shaking, walls clenching. He takes your clit between his lips, licking circles around it as his fingers plunge back into you, tapping your sweet spot until you come undone.

He locks an arm across your waist, pinning you to the bed so that you have to take it. All of it. Your orgasm falls over you like a blanket, clinging to your skin, enveloping you in the overwhelming warmth of it. Your moans devolve into a low, broken whine as you lay there helpless. As if you’d want the help if there were any. 

“Mmm” he hums, taking his last taste of you before his dripping fingers pull out, “I knew you’d taste good but that was…”

He swishes what’s left of your juices around in his mouth, making sure that it lingers behind long after he’s done. “Delicious.”

Pressing his lips to your inner thigh, he kisses his way up your body. Except for a few involuntary twitches from the aftershock, your body’s limp. Far too weak to stop him from teasing you with wet kisses to your curves. He whispers things to your body. Some sweet, some filthy, but the message is the same. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

A part of you wants to deny the truth of his words, shrugging them off as nothing more than lust. But there’s so much sincerity in them that you can’t fight them off. They soak right into your skin and, by the time his lips meet yours again, they’ve become a part of you. 

Mingi cups your face, his thumb rubbing circles on your cheek. “You came so hard for me, baby. Think you can do it again?”

You may be lying here with glossy eyes and pouty lips but you’re far from the innocent little thing he’s making you out to be. You slip a hand below his waist, palming his length through his pants. 

“Get rid of them” you whisper, kissing him harshly, “Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He pushes himself up from the bed, standing to the side of you to drop his pants. You crawl to the edge of the bed, settling on your knees to watch him. He makes a proper show of it, sliding them down at an agonizingly slow pace. Your eyes widen when his cock springs free, no boxers to hold them back. 

“You didn’t have any underwear on. You whore” you tease, admiring his cock all the while. It’s much longer than you thought it’d be, thicker too, with pretty veins traveling up the side like rose vines and a nice fat tip leaking precum down to the rim. 

Mingi tucks a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “If I’m a whore, I’m your whore.”

“All mine?” you ask, popping the tip into your mouth. It’s a tight fit. Not easy in the slightest but you make it look like it is. You drag your tongue across the slit, collecting beads of arousal on your tongue. 

His body shudders, knees almost giving out from the wispy motion of your tongue around the rim. “All yours” he groans, his voice growing shaky the further you take him into your mouth.

You take as much as you can before it taps the back of your throat and then you take a little more still. Bobbing your head back and forth, you drool down his length, sucking him like one of those long, twisty lollipops you get from the candy store. Mingi throws his head back, swearing he can see stars on the ceiling from how tightly your fluffy cheeks are suctioned around him.

Your tongue sweeps back and forth on the underside of his cock, your throat muscles flexing around the tip. Running your fingers down his stomach, you dig your nails in. Not enough to draw blood, just enough to get his attention. He looks down at you, a mixture of ecstasy and pain clouding his mind.  

Leaning back from him, you let him slip out of your mouth. “If it’s all mine…” you sigh, sliding back on the bed and crawling onto your knees, “Then give it to me.”

You arch your back, ass poked out towards him, and he can see that you’re still dripping, your thighs soaked from your last orgasm. He slaps your ass hard enough to make all of you jiggle and you smile back at him, not minding the sting. 

“You’re lucky you look so hot” he says, aligning himself with your entrance.

You wink, sinking back onto him so that the tip pops inside, “So are you.” 

Mingi grabs you by the hips, slamming into you, and your arms give out in an instant, your cheek lying flat against the blanket as the next thrust sends shockwaves through your system. He pauses before the next to give you time to adjust. Really to give himself time to adjust.

The look on his face would make you think that he hates you—eyes narrowed, brows knitted together, lips tight—but it’s the exact opposite. Being inside of you is like dipping himself into a pool of honey. You’re warm and sticky, hugging him so well that pulling out feels criminal. Nothing has ever felt this good. 

“Shit, baby, I can’t believe this is what you’ve been hiding from me all this time” he grunts, driving into you again and again.

The tears in your eyes are real this time. None of those play ones from earlier. You can’t help how they water as he bounces you on his cock, your quivering hole stretching a bit more each time to accommodate him. Music’s still streaming from the record player and the sound of your bodies slapping together matches the frantic rhythm. You have to give it to him. He’s good at staying on beat, even at a time like this. 

Leaning forward, he nips at your side before grabbing your arm and guiding it between your legs. “Touch your clit for me. Wanna watch you do it.”

You do as you’re told, blindly feeling around to find your bud. Your fingers slip around, splashing in your own slick. They land right at your entrance and you can feel him pulsing as he disappears into you. You let them hover there, stroking him each time he pulls back, but Mingi forces your hand up to where he wants it.

“Aah, Min—fuck, so good…” you moan at the added layer of pleasure. 

With his large hands splayed out on your ass, he sits back to watch you. Your arm’s shaky, mouth hung open drawing in sharp, jagged breaths. The curves of your body sit just right and each time you arch he finds a new way to admire them.

It’s more than enough to break him, your walls clenching and releasing, worsening the rising pressure threatening to ravage him. But he grits his teeth, suppressing his high until he feels your walls flutter off rhythm, legs trembling as your second orgasm of the night washes over you. 

Mingi stills his movements, keeping you flush against him as you mindlessly ride his cock. “Good girl…” he coos, “Use me like I’m your fucking toy.” 

Your whole world’s shattering and his words only make you come harder, juices cascading down your thighs, soaking the space between you. He follows close behind you, his swollen tip pumping you full of his seed until you’re drowning in the warmth of it. You bite down on the blanket, moaning his name into the thick cotton.

When your body finally collapses into the mattress, you’re on another planet and the feeling of Mingi’s arms around you are all that brings you back to earth. Cuddled up behind you, he sprinkles your shoulder with loving kisses, obsessed with the way you look even when you’re wrecked like this.

Minutes pass without a word spoken but nothing needs to be said for his admiration for you to be clear. It radiates from him, making your skin prickle. 

Turning to face him, you brush sweat slicked strands away from his eyes, “You’re staring at me.”

“I like staring at you” he smiles, kissing your inner wrist, “I always have…always will.” 

This is your cue to say something sweet back. Tell him how handsome he is—that in a room full of people your eyes will always find him. But the gravity of what you two have done sets in and with it comes the paralyzing fear that you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life. When you were his best friend. You were special. Sacred in a way that made you different from all the other girls. So what are you now?

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, searching your expression for any small detail that’ll give it away. 

“It’s nothing…”

Mingi frowns, knowing a liar when he sees one, “Nothing, huh?”

“Really, it’s nothing. It’s just—I don’t wanna be just like one of your little groupies, you know? I don’t want this to mean that you see me differently.” 

“I see you the same way that I always have” he says, fingertips tracing your spine. “But I’d like to see you as something more, if that’s okay with you.”  

The smile on your face is automatic. You can’t even begin to fight it. “Yeah, that’s okay with me.”

“Good. Not that you really had a choice. I can’t let go of a girl like you. Look at you” he growls, locking you in his arms so that you can’t get away.

He tucks his face into your neck, kissing and nibbling at you like a rabid animal. You kick your feet and giggle, hands pressed to his chest in a useless attempt to push him off.

Some things between you will never change. He’ll forever be a menace, always taking every chance he gets to mess with you, but in another sense things will never quite be the way they were before.

And, as you surrender to the relentless assault of kisses raining down on you, you can’t imagine ever wanting them to be. 

[vesipha]

29th street | jeon jungkook

summary: it started with noise complaints and eye rolls, now you’re climbing his fire escape and making out on his bedroom floor. content: smut (mdni) + fluff ♡ 2783 words isla's notes: a big cheers (with pizza or not) to a very special girl out there—here's to hoping your day is as bright as you, my love! i love you ♡ and im with you til the end.

IT STARTED WITH a wall.

Not a metaphorical one... though, sure, you had plenty of those. No, this was a very literal, very paper-thin, godforsaken wall between your office and Jungkook’s studio.

He’s not even a bad musician. That’s the worst part. The tracks he works on are good, sometimes brilliant, but not when you’re trying to hit a novel deadline and a five-piece rock band is shaking your filing cabinet with an aggressive bass drop.

You fought, at first. A lot. Passive-aggressively, then full-blown yelling. One time you left a signed copy of your latest book with a note that read “For your ears, since you clearly have no taste in soundproofing.” He responded by playing a demo on loop titled “Writer’s Block.” It was just thirty minutes of typewriter sounds and the occasional scream.

But here’s the thing: enemies are only enemies when you don’t really know them. Then one day, his studio flooded and someone had to share their WiFi and space while the flooring got redone. That someone, tragically, was you.

And he was... human. Funny. Weirdly intuitive. Insufferably hot. The kind of hot that makes you reevaluate your type mid-sentence.

Weeks passed. He started bringing coffee. You started defending his stupid beats. One night, you both ended up at the same open mic night and accidentally-on-purpose sat together the whole time.

Now you’re here. Tipsy on cheap cocktails after a friend’s party, walking toward his apartment, giggling like idiots. And somewhere along the line, the wall between you—literal and not—fell away.

“Okay, but hear me out,” Jungkook says, wobbling slightly as he skips backward in front of you, hands animated in the warm blur of city night. His black oversized bomber jacket flaps open with the movement, revealing a sliver of soft, golden skin and the worn waistband of jeans he’s clearly had forever. “This pizza place? Will alter the trajectory of your taste buds.”

You roll your eyes, half-laughing. You had to, just to keep your brain from short-circuiting. The streets are quiet now, washed in orange glow from overhead lamps, the world that had been loud and dizzy with party people now humming low and quiet. “You said that about the Thai place and I spent twenty-four hours regretting my life choices.”

“Okay, yes, but that one was a heat miscalculation. You have the spice tolerance of a Victorian child.”

You side-eye him as you walk, kicking at a loose rock. “I’ve literally eaten ghost pepper wings on a dare.”

He tilts his head, mock offended. “You also made me scrape chili flakes off your slice last week.”

“I was hungover,” you snap. “And ok, perhaps also emotionally vulnerable.”

He grins, slowing beside you again, the laughter settling into something softer. The kind of ease that only arrives at 12:47 a.m. when your feet are sore, your head’s fuzzy, and your company is Jungkook—who smells like citrus shampoo and rain-drenched concrete.

He stops suddenly, holding his hand up like he’s taking an oath. “This time, I swear on Namjoon’s vinyl collection.”

You freeze mid-step, eyes going wide. “That’s blasphemy,” you whisper, scandalized.

“Totally,” he agrees, bunny teeth flashing in a grin that does irreparable damage to your judgment.

“You have no fucking clue to what blasphemy means do you?” you try to manage the adoration oozing from your eyes with very little success. You can only hope he just sees it as you being completely drunk. 

Jungkook sways a bit, laughs through his nose, then grins wider. “No. Sounds nice though!” 

And just like that, you find yourself laughing uncontrollably while following him across a crosswalk and into a sleepy, blinking pizza shop that looks like it’s closed but isn’t.

The guy behind the counter doesn’t even look surprised to see Jungkook. He leans in, slaps palms with him over the register like they’re in a secret club, and you stand off to the side, arms crossed, watching the interaction with something that might be fondness or envy.

“Two slices of the good stuff, Yoongiihh!” Jungkook says funnily, pointing at a half-empty tray of bubbling mozzarella and burnt-edge crusts. “And extra napkins, please. We’re messy eaters.”

“We?” you mouth behind him, eyebrows raised.

He glances over his shoulder and smirks. “You especially.”

The clerk, Yoongi, stifles a laugh and passes over a white paper box.

You’re still bickering about him not letting you pay as you step onto the gravel alley behind his building, where the fire escape twists upward into the dark like something out of a noir film. The metal is cold, sharp, glittering faintly under the streetlights. The kind of climb that feels vaguely illegal. The pizza box is tucked between you and Jungkook’s chest now, shared like a secret.

He glances up at the ladder after frowning and tucking his phone back into his jeans. “Jimin locked the bottom latch, again.”

You stop contemplating opening the box to snatch a clandestine slice for yourself. “And this matters because…?”

He turns toward you, grinning like he’s about to unveil a heist. “We’re going up the old-fashioned way.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh, hell no.”

“The fire escape,” he confirms.

“For fucks sake, JK,” you mutter. “Is this a setup? Are you trying to murder me and keep the pizza for yourself?”

He laughs, that low rasp that always hits you too low in the gut. “If I were gonna murder you, it would be for your fancy gamer keyboard, not the pizza.”

You stare up at the rickety thing. “Do I look like someone who climbs structures in a midi dress and birkenstocks?”

He’s already got one foot on the lower rung. “You look like someone who’d complain the entire time and then act smug at the top.” when you don’t mention moving, he snatches the pizza box from your hands. “Come on,” he coaxes, “You even have a slit in your dress. Great mobility. Ok fine, I promise not to look up your—” 

“Finish that sentence and I’ll push you off the moment we reach the top.”

Jungkook grins like he wants you to try.

You glare, but your heart is thudding a little faster, and it’s not because of the climb.

When you reach for the first rung, your foot slips. A second later, you feel his hand on your waist.

Firm. Warm. Electric.

“I got you,” he says softly, right behind you, breath grazing your ear.

You freeze. Not because you’re afraid but because your brain has been thrown off a cliff. His palm doesn’t leave. In fact, it tightens just slightly, as if making sure you’re there, real, grounded. His fingers are splayed just above your hip, and the contact, simple as it is, lights you up like a struck match.

You nod once, then keep going.

But that touch... his skin on yours, through a thin layer of your favorite black dress, it doesn’t leave your memory, not even as you step through the open window into his bedroom.

His room smells like him.

Not in an obvious, cologne-heavy way, but something lived-in and layered. A little diffuser, some bergamot, hints of laundry soap and cedar. The lamp with a bandana on top in the corner casts a dim orange glow across the hardwood floor and the chaos of his space. Cords snaking under a desk, notebooks left open, a hoodie flung across the back of a chair.

It’s intimate. Personal.

It’s also, apparently, your new dining area.

He kicks aside a Hello Kitty plushie you start wondering where he got from, and then gestures for you to sit. You drop down onto a pillow by the wall, and he follows suit, setting the pizza box between you like a peace offering.

When your thighs touch, it’s casual. When they stay touching, it’s not.

“Cheers,” he says, holding up a slice like it’s champagne. You clink crusts. The cheese stretches dangerously between you both before snapping back.

You try to focus on the pizza. You really do.

But he’s watching you again. Like you’re the story he doesn’t want to stop reading.

And you feel it, down to your stomach, where butterflies seem to fly rampant. The way your breathing shifts, the heat that’s crawling up your neck, the fact that your thigh is still pressed to his and now you can feel the way he flexes it when he shifts.

He wipes a bit of sauce off his lip. You watch his tongue catch the rest.

It’s fine.

Totally fine.

Except then he leans back, resting his inked arm on the mattress behind him, and looks over.

“Do you ever think about us?”

The words hit like a piano falling from the third floor.

You blink. “Us?”

“I mean... yeah.” His voice is quieter now. The buzzed, post-party haze has faded into something slower. “We weren’t exactly supposed to like each other… I think.”

You snort. “We used to actively not.”

“I still have that post-it you left taped to the wall.”

You smirk. “Which one?”

“All of the ragy ones like ‘I’ll impale you with your drumsticks’.” He chuckles, eyes trailed to the window. “But then... I dunno. I started looking forward to your threats.”

You glance down at your hands. “If we are in a sharing moment, well... I think I hated how much I liked hearing you sing.”

Silence blooms. He shifts closer. Your hands brush. You don’t pull away.

“You have something...” he murmurs, reaching out to brush the corner of your mouth. His thumb lingers there.

You hold your breath.

And he doesn’t move.

Jungkook just looks at you, and in his starry eyes there’s that same soft ache you’ve seen when he listens to a song he’s trying not to fall in love with.

You exhale. “Are you going to kiss me or—”

He does.

It’s not gentle.

Not sweet like once or twice you imagined as you caught yourself fantasizing what he’d do, how he’d be.

It’s a storm breaking loose, all noise and heat and weeks of tension crashing down in a single, breathless second.

Jungkook’s hands are on your face, your neck, then your waist, gripping tight like he needs the contact or he’ll come undone. Your fingers thread into his thick hair instead, pulling just enough to make him groan into your mouth.

The kiss deepens, slower now, but heavier. He tastes like pizza and whiskey and something uniquely Jungkook—warm and just slightly out of control.

You climb into his lap without thinking. He lets out a moan that punches straight through your stomach and down. Your dress rides up thanks to the flowy slit on your left leg, and his fingers curl into your hips, dragging you flush against him. 

You gasp when you feel him hard beneath you.

He kisses you harder for it. His tongue sliding against yours with the slow, sinful certainty of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing.

Your hands move on instinct, pushing his jacket off, dragging your nails across the warm skin of his neck. He shivers.

He pulls back for air, forehead against yours. “You’re unreal,” he whispers. “You feel,” he closes his eyes, biting the soft spot by your year, tugging on your hips as you roll them instinctively against his hard-on. “God, you feel fucking unreal.”

You smile, dazed, kissing him again, and it’s slower, much slower—exploratory, indulgent. His mouth moves to your jaw, your neck, tongue teasing just below your ear again. Your breath stutters, and he groans when you arch into him.

His hands slide further under your dress, bunching it as they go. Fingertips skate over your ribs, reverent.

“Please tell me you’re not that drunk,” he murmurs against your neck, tongue flipping, teeth rasping. “That you know exactly what you’re doing to me right now- Please.”

But your hands are already on his shirt, tugging it over his head. Your answer is your body—your mouth on his collarbone, your fingers at the waistband of his jeans.

He tilts his head back, fingers on the verge of bruising you like he’s going to run out of time.

Like this, you, were something he’d earned the right to want and is terrified he might still lose.

“Fuck,” he breathes against your skin, right before his hands slide from your thighs to your hips, spinning you slightly, and walking you back until your knees hit the edge of the rug. You barely have time to laugh before you are on the floor. Your back skimming the cool wood, his weight settling over you.

The way he moves feels more like instinct than choreography. Raw, imperfect, real.

He doesn’t undress you so much as he tears you apart.

Your dress is gone, flung to the side. His sneakers hit the floor with a muted thud. He kisses down your chest like he’d been dying to. Like he is memorizing you by mouth alone. When he reaches behind you to unhook your bra, his hand is shaking.

“I’ve thought about this,” he whispers, teeth grazing the top of your breast. “So many times.”

“Good,” you tug at his locks, arching. 

Your fingers claw at his belt, jerking it loose with more desperation than grace. He sucks in a breath when your hand slides inside, wrapping around him, hot and heavy and so hard it makes your thighs clench.

“I swear to God,” he growls, “if you keep doing that, I’m gonna—”

“Then do something about it,” you whisper, biting and sucking his bottom lip.

That was all it took.

He drags your panties off with rough, impatient hands, mouth returning to yours with a new kind of hunger. The kind that leaves bruises. The kind that unravels.

You gasp at the cold air on your skin, then gasp again when his fingers slip between your legs, groaning when he feels how ready you are.

“Jesus,” he mutters. “You’re so wet, baby.”

You tug at his waistband, wordless now.

He strips the last of his clothes, kneels between your thighs, and for one heartbeat, just one, he hovers.

Eyes locked.

Breaths heavy.

Everything suspended.

Then he pushes into you with one long, deep thrust, and you see stars.

“Jungkook—” you gasp, clutching his arms. “Oh– Fuck,”

The stretch, the heat, the fullness... he fills you like he belongs there. Like this is the only way your bodies are ever supposed to fit.

“Ah, yes, right there,” you moan, rolling into him. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

He groans, low and guttural, rocking into you with slow, deep strokes. “You feel so good—fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

Your hands grip his back, nails scoring lines down his spine. “Harder,” you pant. “Just like that, oh—”

“Look at me,” he growls, hips snapping harder into yours. “I want to watch you.”

You do.

The slap of skin fills the room. Your gasps turn to throaty moans. You are unraveling beneath him, clinging to his shoulders, your legs lock around his waist, each thrust tearing another piece of you open.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he mutters against your mouth, kissing you deep and messy. “Ah, fuck.”

He swallows your moans, his pace relentless now. And when your body seize around him, pleasure tearing through you like lightning, you cry out his name like a vow.

“Jungkook,” you choke, trembling. “I’m— I’m coming—”

He curses, thrusts once more, deep and shuddering, and then he is spilling into you with a broken sound against your throat, collapsing on top of you in a mess of sweat and tangled limbs, your bodies still connected, your breaths shared.

You lay there together on the floor, sticky and undone, the air thick with everything that hadn’t been said, but was felt anyway.

He doesn’t speak for a while.

Just kisses your shoulder, your cheekbone, your jaw, like he can’t stop touching you.

And then he pulls back slightly, only enough to look at you. And look, he does.

Like you are the only thing he can see with those starry eyes of his. Like he wants to memorize you again.

Jungkook’s fingers tangle slowly through your hair, brushing it off your face, soft and slow, over and over, like it calms him just to touch you.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispers, kissing the edge of your mouth, and then again, this time catching your bottom lip between his teeth. Gentle, possessive, drunk on you.

“Shut up,” you chuckle, unable to not press closer to his warmth. 

Eventually, he nudges your nose with his. “You’re never gonna win another argument, by the way. You know that, right?”

You laugh, breathless. “That’s what you think, loser.”

And when he kisses you again, it isn’t about lust.

It is about every late night. Every fight. Every inch of space you’d carved into each other just to finally land here.

Right here.

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ♡

[ainsworthluv]

dress to impress | lando norris

You innocently show Lando the dress to impress game. But his competitive side can't handle playing casually.

Lando adjusted the $10 000 headset over his curls and flashed a grin at the camera.

“Okay, team,” he announced, fingers drumming on the desk, “tonight we’re shaking things up. Instead of putting my ridiculously expensive rig through its paces on Call of Duty, we’re playing a very… special request from Y/N.”

A bright voice chimed in from off-screen. “Hi, everyone!” Y/N waved, her trademark one-sided dimple carving an adorable crescent in her cheek.

Lando sighed theatrically. “Look, no complaints. Our relationship is simple: Y/N decides; I execute. What’s this masterpiece called again?”

“Dress to Impress,” she declared, already booting up the game.

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“Not nonsense—fashion warfare,” she corrected, climbing onto his lap and settling in. “You get a theme, you style your avatar, and the best look wins.”

The livestream chat exploded—half the audience ecstatic for the curveball, the other half mourning the loss of COD carnage. Lando slipped an arm around Y/N’s waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as she explained the rules.

“Round’s timed, so be quick,” she said. “First theme: the 1950s.”

“So all I have to do is dress up a doll?” he asked, brow raised.

“Within the theme,” she reminded him, laughing while she guided his frantic clicks. Minutes later, his surprisingly chic creation spun on-screen.

“Admit it,” he crowed. “You love my doll.”

“I like her. Love is a stretch,” Y/N teased—then the votes rolled in. Third place.

“Third?” Lando’s jaw dropped. “Who are these tasteless heathens voting?”

“Probably ten-year-old girls, darling.”

“Them and their questionable fashion sense,” he huffed, launching the next round. “Right—why can’t I select this jacket?”

“It’s locked. Costs Robux.”

“And I get Robux how?”

“Real money.”

He thrust out his hand. “Wallet, please.”

“Are you serious?” Y/N asked.

“Completely. Fetch the wallet before injustice strikes again!”

She returned, wallet in hand, to find him rubbing his neck—his tell-tale sign of frustration.

“Don’t tell me you placed worse?”

“Fourth. Theme was K-pop.”

“Make sense. You know zero about K-pop.”

“I know plenty—I met Lisa from BLACKPINK!” he protested.

Y/N eyed his avatar, a riot of clashing neons. “It’s… very colorful.”

“Bold,” he corrected. “Wallet, please. I need those Robux.”

Hours passed with Lando deep in digital couture combat. Y/N stayed for a while—long enough to hear a record number of creative expletives lobbed at pre-teen competitors—then surrendered to sleep.

Sometime after midnight, a triumphant yell shattered the quiet. She shuffled back to the office doorway, hair tousled, eyes bleary.

“Lando, what happened?”

He spun in his chair, victorious gleam in his eyes. “Turns out sugarpinklily2939’s denim-inspired look wasn’t so iconic after all. Cry about it, sweetheart!”

Y/N just laughed, crossing her arms. “Congratulations, Fashion King. Now come to bed before the children report you for bullying.”

He paused, headset askew, then grinned. “Deal. But first—one more round. I have to defend my crown.”

And somewhere in the chat, a thousand ten-year-olds readied themselves for battle.

[rosemaryhoney27]

Dont mess with our daughter

Wrath of the Fentons

Jason Todd had seen a lot of weird things in Gotham. Lazarus pits, immortal assassins, fear gas-induced nightmares—hell, he'd been one of the weird things, once upon a time. But watching a bunch of black-market meta traffickers haul a very pissed-off redhead into an unmarked van in broad daylight was quickly climbing the ranks of what the fuck moments.

She wasn't screaming. That was the first sign that something was wrong. Most metas—or normal people—would be terrified. Instead, this girl looked annoyed.

Jason had been tracking this particular ring for weeks. They specialized in kidnapping metas with "unique features"—horns, glowing eyes, animal traits, things that marked them as different. The bastards made a killing selling them off to the highest bidder.

The girl—Jazz, he caught one of the thugs saying—fit their usual type. Her hands, bound behind her, had faint green veins pulsing under her skin, as if something otherworldly coursed through her. Her eyes flickered a ghostly green before settling back into a sharp, human blue.

Jason knew that look. It was the look someone got when they were waiting.

For what? Backup? Did she have a tracker? A hidden weapon?

He was about to interfere when Jazz sighed dramatically and muttered, "You poor, poor idiots."

Jason didn't have time to wonder what she meant before his comms flared to life with a frantic Oracle.

"Red Hood, stand down—I repeat, do not engage—the girl's parents are en route, and—holy shit—these guys have no idea what they just did."

Jason frowned. "Parents? Who—"

And then he saw the tank.

It barreled down the street, mounted with weapons that absolutely should not be street legal, glowing green with ominous energy. The side of the vehicle had a logo painted in jagged white letters:

FENTON WORKS

The doors flew open, and a massive man in an orange jumpsuit leaped out, wielding what could only be described as an anti-aircraft cannon converted into a rifle. His wife followed, a visor covering her eyes, her sleek blue bodysuit glowing with strange symbols.

"JAZZ!" the man bellowed, aiming the cannon at the traffickers as if they were just another ghost to blast into oblivion.

"Hey, Dad!" Jazz called, still completely unbothered as one of the thugs tried to hold a knife to her throat. "You might want to be careful. They think I'm a meta."

"Oh, honey," her mom said, pulling out a gun that looked like it belonged in a sci-fi horror movie. "They won't be thinking anything in a few minutes."

Jason took a slow step back.

He'd seen Bruce handle hostage situations with surgical precision. He'd seen Dick talk down armed criminals with nothing but charm and a smile.

He had never seen two civilians go full scorched earth on a meta trafficking ring without so much as a plan beyond "rescue daughter, destroy everything."

The traffickers barely had time to react before green energy blasts tore through their van, their weapons, and the street around them. The sheer destructive enthusiasm was a sight to behold.

One thug made the mistake of aiming a gun at Maddie Fenton. She shot him with a glowing net that phased through his skin before electrifying him into unconsciousness. Another tried to run—Jack Fenton threw what looked like a modified bear trap, which snapped shut around the guy’s legs and dragged him back, screaming.

Jazz, still tied up, sighed as one guy tried to use her as a human shield. "You do realize that you're standing between me and them, right?"

The thug barely had time to consider his life choices before Maddie calmly shot him in the leg.

Jason, crouched on a nearby rooftop, slowly exhaled.

Well. The ring was definitely out of commission.

As the Fentons loaded the unconscious criminals into their highly illegal ghost-proof containment units, Jazz finally noticed Jason watching. She arched a brow.

"Hey, Red Hood, right?"

Jason, still processing, just nodded.

Jazz smirked. "You look like you're having a what the fuck moment."

Jason stared at the still-smoking wreckage of what used to be a human trafficking operation and then at the grinning, trigger-happy Fenton parents.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, that about sums it up."

[ari-ana-bel-la]

hello! can you write for Charles taking his baby girl for her first haircut to his mom’s salon? And like the whole family doing lunch afterwards and just spoiling the baby

A Special First Haircut

The soft morning sunlight streamed through the windows of Charles' apartment, casting a warm glow over the living room where little Yn sat on the floor, playing with her stuffed animals. She was humming to herself, completely immersed in a made-up conversation between her plush rabbit and a tiny toy horse. Charles watched her from the couch, a fond smile on his lips.

His daughter, his sweet sunshine.

Yn was the kind of child who made every day brighter just by existing. She was all golden curls and sparkling green eyes, her laughter the most beautiful sound in the world. She had inherited her grandmother’s and uncle Arthur’s blond hair, though Charles liked to say it had a little of his messy touch to it. It was long now, cascading down her back in soft waves, and today was the day she would get her first-ever haircut.

Charles had made up his mind instantly—there was no one else he would trust for such an important moment except his maman.

"Mon amour," Charles called, standing up and walking over to Yn, crouching down beside her. "Are you ready to go see Grand-mère?"

Yn gasped excitedly, immediately dropping her toys and looking up at him with wide, excited eyes. "Yes! Grand-mère! She’s gonna cut my hair, right, Papa?"

"Oui," he confirmed, running his fingers gently through her soft curls. "But just a little. Your hair is too pretty to cut too much."

Yn giggled, clearly pleased, and jumped up. She immediately ran toward her little coat, struggling to put it on in her excitement. Charles helped her, chuckling at her enthusiasm, before grabbing the car keys.

"Let’s go, ma princesse."

When they arrived at Pascale’s salon, Charles could already see his mother through the glass storefront, tending to a client. As soon as she noticed them, her entire face lit up with joy. She quickly wrapped up the appointment, saying a few kind words to the woman in the chair before ushering her out with a warm smile.

Then, she did something Charles fully expected—she flipped the sign on the door to "Closed" and locked it.

"Charles! Mon ange!" Pascale greeted, pulling her son into a tight hug before bending down to Yn's level. "And my beautiful, beautiful granddaughter!"

Yn let out an excited squeal and threw herself into her grandmother’s arms. Pascale laughed, lifting her up easily despite her small frame. She pressed several kisses to Yn’s cheek, making the little girl giggle and squirm in her grasp.

"Grand-mère!" Yn squeaked between laughs. "You’re tickling me!"

Pascale pulled back with a mock gasp. "Oh no! I would never!" She then ran a gentle hand through Yn’s hair, eyes softening. "My little sunshine, are you ready for your special haircut?"

Yn nodded quickly. "Yes! Papa said not too much!"

"Of course," Pascale agreed, setting her down gently before looking at Charles. "Would you like me to trim it just a little, keep it neat?"

Charles nodded. "Just enough to keep it healthy, maman. I can’t let her lose her princess curls just yet."

Pascale laughed, then gestured toward the styling chair. "Come, mon trésor. Let’s get you all set up."

Yn eagerly climbed into the chair, legs dangling adorably. Pascale carefully fastened a tiny cape around her, making sure she was comfortable before gently combing through her golden locks.

As she worked, Charles pulled out his phone and quickly sent a message to his brothers.

Charles: Yn is getting her first haircut. Maman closed the salon just for her. You two want to come?

Lorenzo replied almost instantly.

Lorenzo: Of course! Charlotte and I are coming.

A second later, Arthur’s response appeared.

Arthur: I’m on my way!

Charles smiled, already picturing how much his family was going to fuss over Yn. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked up just in time to see Pascale snipping the very first strand of Yn’s hair. The little girl watched in the mirror with wide, fascinated eyes.

"That’s my hair!" Yn exclaimed, staring at the small golden lock Pascale had cut.

"It is," Pascale said with a smile.

As Pascale continued working, the door opened, and Lorenzo walked in, his arm wrapped around Charlotte’s waist. Arthur followed closely behind, looking just as excited.

"Lorenzo! Arthur! Charlotte!" Yn squealed, waving at them from the chair.

"Mon petit trésor!" Lorenzo grinned, immediately walking over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Look at you! Such a big girl, getting her first haircut!"

Charlotte smiled warmly. "You look adorable, Yn."

Arthur leaned down, resting his arms on the back of the chair. "Are you sure you want to cut your princess hair?" he teased.

Yn giggled. "Grand-mère says I still get to keep my princess hair!"

"Of course she does," Pascale said, sending Arthur a pointed look before ruffling his hair. "Don’t make her second-guess it."

Arthur raised his hands in surrender, grinning. "Alright, alright."

The adults stepped back, letting Pascale finish trimming Yn’s hair. But then—

The salon suddenly filled with the sound of Yn’s uncontrollable giggles.

Everyone turned their heads in surprise, only to see Pascale holding the blow dryer, directing warm air toward Yn’s head. Her hair was flying in all directions, making her laugh so hard she had to grab onto the armrests to keep from wriggling too much.

"PAPA, LOOK!" Yn giggled. "MY HAIR IS FLYING!"

Charles grinned, pulling out his phone to snap a quick picture. "You look like a little fairy, ma princesse."

"Or a lion!" Arthur added.

"Lion princess!" Yn declared, still giggling.

Lorenzo chuckled, shaking his head. "She’s too cute."

When Pascale finally finished, she turned off the blow dryer and carefully ran her fingers through Yn’s hair one last time.

"There," she said proudly. "My beautiful sunshine, all done."

Yn turned her head from side to side, admiring herself in the mirror. "It’s so pretty!"

Charles leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "You’re always pretty, mon amour."

Everyone else immediately chimed in with compliments.

"You look like a real princess!" Charlotte said.

"The cutest princess ever," Arthur added.

"Perfection," Lorenzo agreed.

Yn, slightly overwhelmed by all the attention, giggled shyly and reached for her father. Charles laughed and scooped her up, letting her hide her face in his neck.

"My little shy baby," he murmured, rubbing her back gently.

Pascale smiled fondly at the scene before clapping her hands together. "Alright, now that we’re done, who’s ready for lunch?"

"Me!" Yn perked up instantly. "I’m so hungry!"

Arthur ruffled her hair. "Then let’s go! I think our little princess deserves a big treat today."

At lunch, Yn was completely spoiled by her uncles. Arthur insisted she get a chocolate milkshake, while Lorenzo made sure she had extra fries. Charlotte helped her color on the kids’ menu, and Pascale couldn’t stop pressing kisses to her forehead.

Charles just sat back, watching it all with a full heart.

His little sunshine, surrounded by love.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-💙🦋

[smutoperator]

A Night to Remember

Shin Yuna x Male Reader (+5 more guys)

Tags: anal, backseat foreplay, blowbang, bush, couch sex, double penetration, facefucking, filling every hole, free use, fuckdoll, gangbang, golden shower, queefing

Word count: 5109

Yuna was getting herself ready for a special night. After taking a shower, she put on lipstick, combed her hair, and looked at her beautiful self in the mirror until she received a text message.

"Are you still going out tonight?" you sent a message to Yuna, who stopped to read it and reply. "I'm getting ready now, hope you bring the whole team, I want to fuck them all" Yuna replied, already showing her naughty intentions.

Yuna finished dressing herself up, putting on a beautiful dress that barely covered her ass, and went outside, where a huge car with your crew of friends inside was already parked waiting for her. "Good night," you greeted Yuna in the driver's seat as she fit her tall, slim body inside a packed car with 6 guys inside.

"So, where are we going tonight?" Yuna asked. "A very nice spot, but we have to keep it a secret," the guy in the front passenger's seat answered her. You kept trying not to distract yourself as you drove the crew to the destination, but Yuna was right in your mirror's sight in the backseat of the car, making it very difficult for you to concentrate.

Yuna smiled as the guy looked at her. "Ohhhh a secret, I'm ready for you guys to give me a great surprise," she said. "You can count on it," you told her as the two dudes on the backseat alongside Yuna started sharing kisses with her, you reaching her hands on her legs while they touched her dress close to her tits.

The touching got more and more intense. "Looks like I'm getting in some trouble tonight," Yuna said as the guys' wandering hands kept touching her hot body in every spot.

Yuna opened her legs in the backseat of the car, unveiling her white panties under her dress. As soon as she did, the guy in the front passenger's seat pulled them to the side, only to be surprised by the massive bush she spotted in her pubic area.

"Damn, that's quite a big bush," you said as you looked in the mirror. "Well, I usually keep it fully shaved down there but for tonight I wanted to be a little wider and keep it untouched," Yuna said. It was the first time you had seen her with a bushy vagina but you enjoyed seeing it, indeed, it felt very different and gave her a more mature aura.

You guys hadn't even arrived at your destination, but Yuna was so tempting you were already running your hands all over her pussy. In the middle of her sexy bush, her throbbing red lips appeared, her rubbing her clit and teasing the crew while you filmed them. Soon, the guys were digging their hands deep inside her cunt, leading her to smile brightly.

Yuna pulled her panties down, handing them to you as the guys kept massaging her spot. You smiled as you sniffed her underwear, the amazing scent of her pussy impregnating your nostrils and getting you even hornier. Yuna tried to grab her panties back, but you pushed them out of her reach. "They are mine now, you don't need those for tonight," you told her as both of you laughed.

The guys in the backseat pulled Yuna's dress to the side as well, unveiling her perky and delicious tits in the process. Yuna moaned and smiled as both guys to her side dove to suck her boobs like hungry babies while she rubbed her clit. And that was just the start.

"Are you guys gonna fuck all my holes tonight, pass me around and share me?" Yuna asked. "Yes, and we are gonna cum in all of them too," you answered. You always loved that Yuna always asked the right questions, she had no fear of openly talking about the way she wanted to get used, fucked, pounded, truly a girl that was horny 24/7/365.

"Fuck, ahhhhh, you're getting me so wet," Yuna moaned as you reached to finger her clit and prepare herself for a special night. You guys finally reached the destination, climbing upstairs to the secret house you had rented for tonight. "That's it, it's going to happen, I'm gonna get passed around until I tap out," Yuna said, already heavily anticipating the special night.

"Hi boys," Yuna greeted your crew as she was the last to arrive in the living room. "Hey hey hey," you greeted her back as the guys were chilling in the room with their t-shirts already out and their muscles in full display. As Yuna was still mesmerized, you surprised her from behind, grabbing her tits as the guys one by one got out of their chairs and started surrounding her.

You kiss Yuna's neck as hands run all over her. "That's so fucking sexy," she says. "Fuck, I wanna taste all of you," she continues as you pick up her phone and film her getting groped from all sides by your crew, her tits popping out of her dress already. But Yuna is unfazed, as she moves in your direction and rips your belt off in one go, quickly getting her hands on her most coveted prize.

Yuna grabs your already hard cock and starts massaging it. The other guys quickly get jealous, answering by ripping her dress apart. Yuna smiles as she gets stripped naked and her dress tossed to the floor. One guy sucks her tits while another runs his hand over her belly.

Yuna quickly gets on her knees as she gets surrounded by cocks from all sides. You're the first to serve her, putting your meat right in her horny mouth and filming as she sucks it. Rotating in a clockwise direction, Yuna goes through each guy's cock, sucking them to perfection as she puts their shafts deeper and deeper in her throat.

"Give me all those cocks please," Yuna commands as she reaches the final guy in the circle, jerking his cock off hard and deepthroating him. She keeps moving from guy to guy. When your turn arrives again, you grab her head and fuck her pretty face, shoving it in the direction of your crotch and enjoying the gagging sounds that come out of her mouth while your balls hit her chin.

"Choke on this dick, bitch," you tell Yuna as your meat bulges under her cheeks. She tries to push back but you quickly show her who's in control, taking another round of fast thrusts into her mouth as you grab Yuna right by her long hair and make her gag on your cock.

"It's free use night, guys," you tell your crew as Yuna moves to please the other dudes. She bobs her head on the next cock, but just like with you, quickly gets her face pounded once again. She looks at you with her big eyes wide open and jerks your cock off while choking on the dude's dick, finishing with a gagging deepthroat.

Yuna gets hornier and hornier, making insane moves with her mouth as she gives head to all your crew, stuffing her mouth full of cock and deepthroating them one by one while giving her attention to at least two more cocks as she jerks them off. "Pound that fucking mouth," you tell your friends, who follow your instructions perfectly, grabbing Yuna's head and thrusting their huge cocks right inside it as soon as she starts sucking them.

Yuna remains surrounded by cocks for many minutes, enjoying every second of it as she gets to taste multiple flavors of man meat. Rapidly moving her head from one cock to another, Yuna quickly takes control of the situation, you guys struggling to keep pace with her fast-moving mouth that jumps from cock to cock with ease.

You try to tame Yuna with another facefuck, to no avail as she handles it with ease and slowly rises to be the star of the show. Your cocks are now at her mercy, Yuna now choking on every dick that gets in her sight, handling the plowings to her face like a champion.

"YEAHHHHH!" Yuna enthusiastically screams as you get behind her and bend her over. She knows what's coming and can't wait for the real fun to start. "Are you ready to fuck me? Stuff all my fucking holes?" Yuna asks, grabbing two other cocks to keep sucking while you shove yours in her pussy. "AHHHH," she moans as your large meat penetrates her cunt, making her go even crazier and bounce her mouth from cock to cock on the opposite side.

"OH FUCK," Yuna screams as you start giving her pussy the first thrusts while she gets spit-roasted, the guy with the cock in her mouth always fucking her face. "OH FUCK THAT FEELS GOOD," she keeps moaning as your cock gets deeper inside her.

You detach Yuna from the other guys cocks, grabbing her slim waist and pushing her supermodel body in your direction. "FUCK YEAH USE ME, AHHHHH, AHHHH" she screams as she gets plowed from behind in a standing doggy position and grope her cute tits. The other guys don't stand idle, worshipping her hot body with kisses and licks as you stretch out Yuna's tight, bushy pussy.

"OH GOD I LOVE YOUR COCK, OH YEAH, FUCK, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH" Yuna moans as she rolls her eyes with you pounding her harder and harder from behind, her slim body jiggling at each thrust you give deep in her cunt. After a few more poundings, you drop her to keep sucking the other guys' cocks, watching as she goes full slutty and deepthroats them one by one.

"Oh yeah, give me all of them," Yuna begs as she's encircled again and you guys slap your cocks in her pretty face and then plow it one by one. She sticks her tongue out, giving each guy a no-hands blowjob while always keeping her hands occupied jerking other cocks off. "Yes baby, such a good girl," you say as Yuna endlessly bobs her head on those big cocks, covering them full of her nasty saliva.

"Come on, bitch, suck those cocks," you tell Yuna, giving her cute big pale ass a spank as it lines behind you. She immediately follows your orders, giving the guy in front of her a soul-sucking blowjob, you pick up her phone to film it as she stays glued to the guy's balls. "Oh damn it," the dude says as his massive cock just disappears inside Yuna's sexy mouth.

"That's right," you tell Yuna as another guy spanks her ass while she bends over once again to lick your shaft. With her pussy ripe for the taking, the other guys line up behind her, ready to use her in heavy rotation.

"It's free use time," you tell the guys as Yuna chokes on your cock. "HMMMM, HMMM, HMMMM," she moans as her mouth gets stuffed full of your meat and her cunt gets stuffed too. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, AHHHHH," she continues to moan as one dude grabs her waist and plows her from behind. Yuna gets caught by surprise with his hard thrusts but quickly searches for your cock to put it back in her mouth and for two more on her side to jerk it off.

Yuna gets used nonstop, as each guy fucks her harder than the previous one, while your cock holds a monopoly of her mouth. "DON'T STOP, I WANNA FUCK ALL OF YOU" she says, tapping her clit as she gets her bushy pussy destroyed by your crew of monster cocks, you taking advantage to film her getting fucked hard from behind as your friends' cocks rotate in her holes and her tits bounce like crazy.

"Give me more," Yuna begs as she sticks her tongue out to suck more cock, you filming all of it from her phone as she's got one cock in her pussy, one in her mouth, and two in her hands. You quickly move back into the circle, as your friends use Yuna like a bunch of horny animals and you don't want to be left behind on that, muffling her moans as she gets put on all fours by one of the guys and begs him to use her. "OH YEAH USE MY PUSSY," she says as she drops her head to the floor.

You get back behind Yuna, watching as one of your friends stretches her needy cunt out and makes her moan hard, capturing a perfect shot of her big ass. "Who wants to go next?" the guy fucking her announces, suddenly picking up the pace and delivering a final handful of hard thrusts in her pussy that make her scream as his cock hits Yuna's cervix. "AH, AH, AH, AH," she moans, as you prepare to take your turn in her next.

You give Yuna's sexy ass a tap before firmly gripping her from behind and taking her pussy at full speed. "OH YEAH, OH YEAH, OH YEAH," she moans as you turn her into your free-use fleshlight, clapping her fat cheeks hard before lifting her body, carry-fucking her in front of your friends. "MORE, MORE, MORE, TAKE IT, TAKE IT, TAKE IT," Yuna says as you push your cock upwards and make it bulge under her belly while one of your friends reaches to pinch her tits as her body gets drilled up in the air.

"Serve those cocks," you say as you put Yuna back on the ground and spank her butt once again. She quickly crawls towards your friend's throbbing rods, vigorously sucking them off before landing on your cock and having her face plowed hard as soon as it hits her mouth.

One of your friends grabs Yuna's body and shoves her on the couch, her quickly getting on all fours for another round of fucking and spit-roasting. "Yeah give me more," she begs as you move the couch into a better position to allow your crew to attack Yuna's body at every possible angle. The guy answers spanking her butt and shoving more cock in her mouth, but Yuna now is in full control. "Shit, that bitch still tight after all that fucking," the guy taking her pussy says.

"Yes, I'm your dirty slut, fuck me until I tap out," Yuna begs and moans as another guy takes his turn in her pussy. As soon as she senses a new cock coming in, Yuna moves her large hips and spins on it like the good whore she is, her cheeks jiggling at each thrust her pussy gets, Yuna showing that she can take on a whole crew of guys and come out on top.

You take another turn on Yuna's pussy, grabbing her hair as you start pumping her cunt hard. "Yeah, yeah, take that cock you stupid whore," you dirty-talk her. "OH YEAH," she screams as the hair-pulling gets stronger and stronger, loud noises coming out of her fat cheeks every time you hit deep in her pussy. "I fucking love it," she announces as you keep messing with her hair. "Yeehaw," you say as you intensely pull her hair and another guy chokes her. "Take that fucking dick," you tell Yuna as you only push harder and harder in her pussy. "YES," she happily obliges, getting destroyed like a fleshlight.

The next guy in line rotates Yuna's body, lifting one of her legs as he fucks her while you line up in front of her for Yuna to taste your cock. "Hmmm delicious," she says, sticking her tongue out and grabbing her jiggly tits while her bushy cunt keeps getting drilled. "Keep using that bitch," you tell the guys. "Yes, use me, shove all those fucking cocks in my mouth," Yuna rapidly answers.

You quickly oblige and stuff Yuna's mouth full of cock. On the other side, the guys keep drilling her bushy pussy nonstop, groaning hard as her tight hole pushes them to the edge. "Oh shit," one guy says, having to hold himself not to blow his load early in her pussy. The couch free use spit-roasting fun continues, each guy taking his turn on Yuna's young pussy and sexy mouth. "Hell yeah, what a slut," one of them says.

Yuna rolls her eyes as she's turned into a full-time cocksleeve. One guy pulls out, and the next one is quickly in, her mouth and pussy are used to the fullest as she now dives to suck the guy's balls. Each fuck is faster and harder than the one before, but she holds her own amidst a horny horde of monster cocks passing her around.

"Let me ride this big cock," Yuna tells you, who quickly sits on the couch as she sits on your cock. "Look at me doing all that work, fuck" Yuna says as your cock instantly disappears in her pussy. Yuna rides you like a demon. "Oh yeah, yeah, yeah," she moans, her bounces being fast and well-paced, all that while grabbing a pair of cocks to jerk off and one to suck.

"OH FUCK YEAH," Yuna moans as your big cock impales her cunt all the way deep. "She's loving this," one of the guys comments just as you spank her ass. They are mesmerized by the way she bounces on your cock and surprised you haven't blown your load in her pussy yet, given how insanely she moves her hips up and down that big fat pole.

Yuna increases the pace of her ride, putting your cock at her mercy. "HMMM YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she moans, her large hips moving fast as her pussy grinds all over your dick, you are forced to flip her around not to cum early.

But Yuna wants more, quickly opening her legs as she gets herself on the couch in a missionary position, letting you keep penetrating her pussy "Oh yeah, yeah, yeah," she keeps moaning as her cunt gets plowed while another dude feeds her your cock for her to suck. "Stroke that fucking cock," you tell her.

Yuna does more than that, diving under the guy to lick his balls and asshole. "Oh fuck," he moans as Yuna rims the guy to the fullest. Seeing it, you quickly have an idea.

"You like licking assholes, how about we fuck your asshole, slut?" you ask Yuna. "Oh yes, please, fuck my asshole," she begs and gets it as you insert your cock in her tight backdoor.

You show no mercy towards Yuna, pushing your cock as deep as you can in her butthole from the start. "Oh my God," she moans as you attack her anal hole. "Come on guys, let's take turns fucking her ass," you command as another cock replaces yours in Yuna's ass and claps his balls against her cheeks. "Oh yeah, I need all those cocks one by one in my ass, use that fucking hole" she begs.

The crew keeps taking turns assfucking Yuna on the couch, much to her enjoyment. "Oh it feels so good," she softly moans, reaching for the other guys' cocks as the next guy in line drills her ass the hardest. "OH FUCKING YES, USE THAT ASS, YEAH, YEAH" she begs as the guy starts choking her.

"PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, DESTROY MY FUCKING ASS," Yuna begs as her butthole gets drilled almost to the point she starts losing her breath. As soon as the anal fucking is done, Yuna spreads her ass for your crew, showing you the big gape you left in her bum. "I want the next cock," she pleads as a tattoed dude stuffs her anus next and fingers her cunt, teasing her ass putting his cock in and out of it, before giving Yuna a rough drilling that makes her body bounce while pinching her clit.

Yuna laughs as the cock rotation in her ass keeps going. "I'm your fucktoy," she says as you come in again, her long legs now over the head as the couch quickly turns into her favorite place to fuck. "Yes, please, use me, keep using my ass" she begs, fisting her long fingers in her pussy while she gets assfucked. "Say it again, you look so sexy saying those dirty words," you tell her. "USE MY ASS, PLEASE, USE ME LIKE A FUCKING FUCKTOY," Yuna answers and soon tells the guys what she wants next.

"I want two cocks inside me," Yuna begs. She gets up and sucks your cock as one dude lets her sit on his and starts drilling Yuna's cunt from down low. "AH, AH, AH, AH, OH FUCK, OH FUCK" she rapidly moans. You soon come in and shove your cock back in her asshole. "YES I WANT TWO COCKS, PLEASE," she demands.

Yuna feels happier than ever as she's got a pair of cocks stuffing her needy holes. "OH MY GOD," she moans as you and your friend pump her in perfect sync. "OH YES, FILL UP MY FUCKING HOLES, THAT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD" she commands as you keep pushing your cock deeper and deeper into her asshole. "Oh yeah I feel so stretched out, my tight holes getting shaped by those big cocks," she moans.

"Fuck my ass deep," Yuna begs as your full length is buried in her asshole and you pound it balls deep. Your friend does the same with her pussy. "PUSH THOSE BIG COCKS IN ME, I WANT MORE," she says, reaching to suck another guy and go airtight.

Yuna spreads her cheeks as you let your friends take turns stuffing her ass. The only sound you can hear now from her is Yuna choking on another cock as she gets stuffed airtight. "Take it, bitch," you say as you watch her get plowed from behind. "AHHHHH, FUCKKKK, IT'S SO FUCKING BIG" Yuna screams, getting caught by surprise as your friend attacks deep in her ass.

Yuna gets mounted as the airtight double stuffing continues, and more guys rotate in. "I'm ready for the next fucking cock," Yuna says as the next guy fucking her ass chokes her and pushes her body in his direction hard. "I'M YOUR FREE USE WHORE, I LOVE WHEN YOU SHARE ME," Yuna screams just as her pale ass gets spanked and the guy fucking her from behind grabs her hair.

"Oh my God, five cocks at once," Yuna says as she bobs her head on your cock. She isn't lying, leaving only one of the guys out of the fun as she strokes two guys, you stuff her in her mouth and two more dudes penetrate her pussy and asshole. The dude fucking her ass pushes her face in the direction of your cock, forcing her to deepthroat it, while the guy immediately to your side hits her pretty slutty face with his big fat cock.

"YEAH, YEAH, I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF ALL THOSE COCKS," Yuna screams as she keeps getting used to all directions. You grab her head and fuck her face once again, "Shit, girl, you're amazing," you praise her as the airtight DP keeps going on, Yuna rolling her eyes as she gets turned into a full-time cocksleeve.

"Holy shit," the guys fucking her from behind groan as Yuna's ass gets smashed between their muscular bodies. "So good, so good," Yuna says as she guys plowing her pussy thrusts from down low. "FUCK IT'S SO BIG," Yuns screams as she gets surprised by your cock hitting her ass and then grabbing her by the waist and clapping her cheeks.

Yuna flips around as she sits her ass on your cock, ready to get double stuffed in reverse this time. "Oh yeah, right in my ass," she says as she impales herself on your dick, opening her legs as you finger her cunt while she's anally drilled. "YES I LOVE BOUNCING ON YOUR COCK, BEING YOUR LITTLE TOY, YOUR SLUTTY FUCKDOLL," she says as the other guy's hands are all over her sexy body now, two guys groping her tits as she bounces on your cock.

One by one, the guys spread her legs and enter Yuna's wide-open pussy, sandwiching her as she gets pounded balls deep in both holes. You let another guy provide the anchor role as Yuna spins on his cock before fully sitting her ass on it. "I want more," Yuna says as you give her what she wants, stuffing your cock deep in her bushy pussy in a mating press position, her cunt queefing as soon as you penetrate her.

"AH, AH, AH, OH YES, RIGHT THERE," Yuna moans as your cock hits deep in her pussy. "That's so fucking hot," she says as she gets sandwiched between two monster rods pumping her hard. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, THIS IS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER DONE," Yuna says as you stretch her pussy out. You let the guys have fun, Yuna in a completely submissive position to their cocks entering her. "Is that what you want, baby?" one of them asks. "Yeah, that's what I fucking want," she answers.

The double drilling of Yuna continues as she gets passed around like a hot potato, challenging every guy to fuck her. Once she's done, you pick Yuna up and stick your cock back in her pussy, with another guy coming in as you two perform a standing DP on her. Yuna moans hard and gives you a naughty stare as she gets drilled up in the air. "I'M YOUR FUCKDOLL, DADDY, DON'T STOP USING ME," she says.

Yuna rises to the challenge, bouncing on both cocks despite being suspended in the air. "I love the way you fuck my pussy and my ass at the same fucking time," she says. You open her legs and drill her cunt, before letting Yuna bounce on the other guy's ass and get back to being double stuffing in the couch, her pussy queefing more than ever.

"AH YEAH, FUCK, UHHHH," Yuna moans as her cunt gets drilled fast. "Give it to her," you tell the guys as her pussy gets drilled while the guy on the bottom fucking her ass chokes her. You come in and let her suck your balls and rim your asshole. "HMMMM, HMMM," she moans as you sit on her face and she keeps getting sandwiched, her body jiggling as the guys give her cunt very hard thrusts.

Yuna takes one more round of a traditional airtight cowgirl stuffing, with you taking her in the ass as she gets all her holes filled. You pound her asshole hard while the guy fucking her face makes her gag on his dick. She looks very wasted at this point, after over 40 minutes of getting turned into a cocksleeve

"I want you to cum in me," Yuna begs as you guys start going for solo rounds with her. You are the first as you start pumping her bushy pussy, groaning as her walls squeeze your cock. "I want cum in all three of my fucking holes, in my pussy, in my ass, in my mouth," she begs as you keep pounding her while she fingers her clit.

Yuna spreads her cunt and plays with her clit as you fuck her. "Fuck my pussy until you cum in it," she begs, giving you a naughty smile. "Give me all that fucking cum," she says. "Are you ready for it?" you ask her back. "YEAH! GIVE IT TO ME." she enthusiastically answers.

"AHHHHH FUCK," you groan as Yuna's tight walls squeeze your cock and make you fill her pussy to the brim. You pull out just in time to decorate her bush with cum as well, her spreading her lips to show your semen oozing out. "I'm ready boys, I want more," she says, rubbing her clit and fingering her cunt in anticipation;

The next guy comes in and puts his cock in her asshole. "AH YES, GIVE ME YOUR COCK, GIVE ME YOUR CUM," Yuna begs as he gives her slow pumps into her tight anus. "Oh I can feel it," she says as he bursts inside her asshole not even 10 seconds in, her anus now dripping full of cum as she grabs a bit to taste it.

"Round fucking three," Yuna says as the next guy comes in, already jerking his cock off and ready to ejaculate in her pussy, stroking his dick inside her and giving another load to her cunt. "Oh I love feeling it dripping out," she says, spreading her lips again to catch the cum.

"Three more to go," Yuna says as the next guy shoots his load in her mouth, licking her chops. Another load in her face comes next. "All of it, give me all of it," she begs, sucking and licking the guy's cock after he finishes in her face. "Give it to me, oh yeah," she says as the final guy groans and gives her face a third load, her licking his tip afterward. You then come in and give her midriff a final load, covering her navel full of cum. "Oh wow, so much cum, seven loads for this fucktoy," Yuna says as you guys turn her into a cum dump.

"I want to remember this night forever, come here guys," Yuna says as she walks in the direction of the mirror, grabbing her phone. "Hope you recorded a lot while the other guys were fucking me," she tells you. She lets everybody come into the frame, taking a picture of her with the crew, her body completely sweaty and full of fluids, especially cum. If the night ended right there, it would already be an amazing night, but you had one final idea.

"Yuna, can you get on your knees, I have one final surprise for you," you tell her.

"Of course, Daddy, what is the surprise?" Yuna asks, getting her face right on the sight of your crew's cocks. You are the first to move, hitting her with a surprise yellow jet of piss right in her face. The other guys follow your lead, turning Yuna into a massive urinal as her body drips full of pee, her trying to get as much as possible into her mouth, gargling and swallowing all the yellow liquid that comes into her sight.

"Wow, that was amazing, turning me into a cum dump and a piss dump," Yuna says as your crew leaves, only you and her still at the house, her looking at you with her typical fuck me eyes. And you can tell she's not going back home.

"Daddy, can you fuck me again?"

[chaoticwriting]

Part 2

GOTHAM'S NEW ROGUE 3

-An hour before-

Danny is hatching a new plan today. Usually, he goes after the rogues who decide to make a spectacle or show for the public. But today, he will be the one to make it.

As all the devices are put together, Danny readies himself to turn on the screen. Lightly slapping his cheeks a few times Danny brace himself for his first solo stream.

*Live On*

Trickster: Well hello everyone! Isn't today unusually too peaceful. With all the rogues in Arkham and no one for me to bother, I decided to do the most out of my time.

Danny walks to a big hulking machine under wraps by a big piece of cloth. Danny pulls the cloth revealing a big machinery that has a giant clock in the middle.

Trickster: Over here I have my latest invention. I realized that people in this city really love coffee so what I do is make a machine that will spread gasses of caffeine into the air for people to consume via breathing. I even make sure that the special caffeine concoction wouldn't affect children because if I know one thing, it is that children with caffeine are scarier than any rogue.

Danny walks to the panel with a comically large red button with the word 'start' on it right under the clock.

Trickster: Now, when I click this button, it will turn on the timer, which is 30 minutes by the way, and when it runs out, the machine will release the caffeine into the air making everyone unable to sleep for one whole day. What is the effect on the city you may ask? I honestly don't know. But it will be funny if tomorrow everyone just drops dead asleep on the ground at work tomorrow.

Danny suddenly stops talking and slams the button heavily.

Trickster: Anyway, the timer starts now. Come find me if you wanna stop it.

Danny then leaves the screen and lets the camera focus on the clock as it ticks down. Danny sits on a nearby table and continues tinkering with his new special glitter bomb.

It's been 30 minutes when suddenly a window is broken and comes in Batman in all his glory. Except what Batman sees isn't the machine or even Trickster. It is a maze full of what he deems as traps laying around. Batman carefully trudges through the maze as he skillfully disarms the traps that are laid on the ground.

It takes Batman a whole 25 minutes to finally pass the maze before he finally sees the machine without Trickster anywhere in sight. He slowly and vigilantly approaches the machine and sees a small blue button with the word 'stop' right beside the red button.

If Batman had more time, he wouldn't have done anything rash but right now he doesn't have the time nor the ability to safely disarm the machine without making any mistake.

He pushes the button and the clock stops right then and there. He stares at his surrounding vigilantly expecting an ambush. And he is not wrong. There is indeed an ambush. Just not a normal ambush.

The machine that has stopped moving suddenly begins to shake heavily and Batman immediately jumps back to distance himself from whatever the machine is about to do.

Except when he lands, an ice forms under his legs trapping him and he tries to break the ice but the ice is very hard and impossible for him to break immediately at least. He is going to request for backups when the machine turns into tiny robots that start to surround him. He tries to smash all of them but not only are they strong and durable, EMP bombs also don't work on them.

After struggling for a while, some of the robots finally climb their way onto his head. One of them hangs from his mask and releases a gas from its mouth. Batman starts to lose consciousness and just as he is about to pass out Trickster appears in front of him.

Danny looks at Batman and orders his robots to tie him upside down, while rummages through his belt. Danny pulls out a lot of things from smoke bomb that accidentally explodes when Danny throws them to a bat shark repellent? What the hell? Anyway, after going through his belt for a while he finally found his target.

The Batwallet.

Danny turns to the hidden camera and starts to monologue.

Trickster: Hello hello everyone. Today, we have a very special guest. Presenting to you an unconscious Batman! And right here I have the strongest weapon in the world. The Batwallet! Hahahahaha.

Trickster: Now, you might be thinking. What is so strong about the wallet? And that my dear friend is the reason I am here today. Let's take a look at what's inside shall we.

Danny pulls out a black card with a bat symbol in the middle of it. Showing it to the camera, Danny gives out the biggest smile he can (somehow).

Trickster: This is the Bat credit card. I know. Sounds stupid. But you know what isn't stupid. The limit on this card. There is no limit. That means I can buy whatever I want with this.

Danny then pulls out a few polaroid pictures from the wallet that catches his attention.

Trickster: What's this? The bats secret identity? Boring. Why would I need to know who they are? Wait. This one is funny. Is this little Nightwing? Hahahaha. He's so little. *Gasp* Little Red Hood. Aww schmuck. I wanna share this with someone. I'm keeping this. I'm sure Batman has backup of these pictures.

Danny then phases the card and the photos into his body and picks up the camera.

Trickster: All right. That's it for today's stream. Oh yeah. We are in the warehouse south of the Bowery. I will shoot a flare after this for you to come get Batman. Well, you better come fast or other people will come for him.

After that the stream is cut off and a flare is shot from one of the warehouses in the Bowery. When the Bats arrived, all that was left was an unconscious Batman, tied up from the ceiling with his belt on the ground.

While the bats are busy extracting Batman back to the cave, Danny is having a feast at the Batburger. On his table, there are 50 sets of burgers, fries and cokes (the soda). Along with his food, he has pretty much paid all the food for everyone inside the Batburger. People were pretty on the fence when he first entered, but Gothamite being Gothamite, they readily accepted him when he paid for their food.

While Danny is busy eating, a big buff guy in a suit approaches him with his own food.

???: Good evening, Mr. Trickster. May I eat with you?

Part 4