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thebibliosphere ¡ 2 days ago
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I’ve had an increase in rainbow aura with my migraines lately (I used to get them once a year, if that. Now, I’ve had it twice in one month) so I’ve become somewhat paranoid whenever something flashes over my vision.
Sometimes, it's just light reflecting off my phone, but it still makes me freeze up in a fear response when it happens because it usually means I’ve got about 20 minutes before I’m in agony.
Apparently, this new paranoia extends into my dreams now, too, because I was running down a long corridor, aware that there was something behind me that I needed to escape, but all of a sudden, in my dream, rainbow zigzags consumed my vision, and I stopped, dead and went, “fuck, migraine.”
That's when I became aware of James Bond/Daniel Craig standing beside me, gun drawn.
“Oh, shit. Do you need to lie down?” he asked while I stared at him.
I said, “What about the thing chasing us?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that, darling. If you need to lie down you can lie down. I’ll just kill them.”
I blinked at him for a bit, still winded from running then said, “Sure,” starting to get to my knees, ready to lie down on the cold stone floor beneath us.
“Sure?”
“Yeah. Kill ‘em. I’m just gonna...” I gestured vaguely at the floor. “Be right here, I guess.”
“You can go upstairs, you know,” he said, loading a fresh clip into his gun. “This museum has a hotel on top of it.”
“Oh good,” I said, starting to suspect this was a dream and not Daniel Craig about to murder the people chasing me because I had a migraine. “I’ll do that then.”
So I got back up and started climbing the stairs that looked an awful lot like the stairs in the Kelvin Grove Art Gallery, only to abruptly walk into Deathstroke and Nightwing doing their best to kill each other in the corridor of what was clearly a hotel based on the room service tray Nightwing was using to deflect projectiles.
They froze. I looked at them. They looked at me. “I’ve got a migraine,” I said,
“Shit, sorry,” Nightwing said, putting down his tray as both men stepped back to let me walk down the decimated corridor. “We’ll be more quiet.”
“Room 13 is open,” Deathstroke helpfully informed me.
“Is there a body in it?” I asked, now leaning against the wall, less walking along, more sliding.
“Not anymore.”
“Do you need anything?” Nightwing asked, “pain killers? Ice pack?”
I waved them off and made my way into room 13 where David Jason dressed as Detective Jack Frost looked up at me from the book he was reading on the bed.
“This is a dream,” he informed me.
“No it isn’t,” I said, despite knowing it was as I hobbled over to the bed and flopped down beside him. “And this room was supposed to be empty.”
“Open, not empty,” corrected Jack Banon who had taken David Frost’s place, dressed like young Alfie from Pennyworth as he sat beside me on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. “There’s a very distinct difference between the two. Oh, don’t look at me like that. Who do you think moved the body?”
“I need to sleep,” I said, “if I can fall asleep, the migraine might go away.”
“That's all right,” he said. “You do that. I’ll make sure no one else comes in. Oh, just one thing before you do.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out something I couldn't quite see and held it out to me. “You’ll need this.”
“What is it?” I said, my brain doing the dream thing where it refuses to read books or interpret numbers correctly. “I can’t see, what is it?”
“Oft, sorry. Can’t tell you that. More than my job’s worth.”
“You’re job...”
“Yeah.” and thats when he leaned over, stuck me with a needle and said, “Night night.”
And I woke up to the sound of @mothman-etd getting into the shower and Holly Mop wiggling under thre covers with me.
First words out of my mouth were, “What the fuck?”
And then I immediately pulled up Tumblr to write this down before I forget it because what the fuck.
Didn't wake up with a migraine though so... *knock on wood*
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lizardho ¡ 2 days ago
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I was like 11-12 years old when I figured out at a boring-ass church activity that you could put rocks into little plastic spoons and then pelt people who annoyed me with them. I did this for the rest of the activity, and at Sunday dinner the next night was bragging about my victory (cornering the mean kid who picked on my youngest brother and pelting him with rocks). One of my cousins was like “no way, that sounds SO fun! Let’s do that RIGHT NOW!” So we grabbed spoons and went and got pebbles from the back yard and launched them at each other.
The problem was my grandma sold her soul for the world’s most resilient plastic spoons so we could launch those fuckers HARD. I gave out welts like candy on Halloween, and I got them back in kind.
So we resorted to taking cover and giggling until we got whacked, then yelping, then returning fire.
My cousin hid in my grandpa’s little fishing boat. It was a good boat, but simple and honestly underused. We didn’t know the little windows on it, meant to keep the wind out of my grandpa’s face while he drove, were cracking. However, they were definitely cracking. Eventually it became obvious and we realized we had been being dumb.
This was NOT the first time in my life I’d been dumb roughhousing and broken something, and I had developed a reputation in my family as being “suicidally honest” so I was the one to deliver the bad news. My grandpa let out a pretty good chuckle and said it was OK, tousled my hair, and asked my grandma to bring me cake. I am not kidding. I learned later he hated his boat and only bought it for his kids’ sakes, since he thought everyone needed to know how to fish. At the time though I was just bewildered and pleased at my good fortune. FINALLY, at long last, being honest and telling the truth about breaking something expensive was getting me cake. I knew if I kept trying it would eventually serve me, and now so had CAKE. I was pleased as could be.
My dad, on the other hand, was livid. He LOVED that boat. He spent several weeks each summer recovering from breaking ribs in that boat every year for about 7 years prior to this incident. He had great memories and memories that boat. So he told my Grandma NO cake for me AND that I’d be coming by this weekend to fix stuff around the house and pay for the broken window with my babysitting/lawn mowing money.
Obviously I was devastated, but that felt more in-line with the way things normally went when I broke something expensive so I just figured it was OK. My grandpa gave my grandma a look and sadly said “Ok, have her here on Saturday to help me with some yard work.”
That Saturday my dad woke me up at 6:00 sharp and drove me, sleepy and bewildered, to my grandpa’s house. He was mumbling under his breath the whole time but he thought he was teaching me consequences for my actions so he was ultimately OK with it.
We get to my grandpa’s house at 6:15. My grandpa is outside with a ladder hanging Christmas lights. The lawn is freshly mowed, the trees and garden are weeded and well-tended to, the carnations in the front yard look immaculate, and my grandpa has this giddy mischievous look on his face. He tells me he was so excited that I was coming over that he couldn’t sleep, so he did all the yard work himself. He asked me to help him put up Christmas lights and decorate the Christmas tree, which I did, then said that because I was such a good helper I could have some pancakes for breakfast. I was sent home with the slice of cake I had been denied the week before, wrapped to keep it as fresh as possible.
The whole way home my dad looked a little miffed, but told me that he was glad I had been honest and was proud of me for helping grandpa. I know he wanted me to Learn a Lesson™️the cowboy way, like he had as a kid, but didn’t have much room to complain since I’d still been Put To Work.
I think that was a lesson for both of us, although I’m not totally sure what it was supposed to show me. I think it was my grandpa’s way of showing my dad that discipline without tenderness doesn’t count as much. He died last year and I miss him terribly, as does my dad. I hope that my story of victory, drama, punishment, and ultimately a secret second victory is meaningful to someone else out there, but if not it still means a lot to me ❤️
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savanir ¡ 2 days ago
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A sister's love
The justice league hurriedly responds to a call for backup at a little in the middle of nowhere place by the name of Amity Park. 
The situation had seemed so simple. 
A Star Sapphire had suddenly shown up on Earth which isn’t immediately cause for concern but she was unidentified, so a lantern was definitely going to have to look into it if only just to make sure that nothing bad was going on. There are two planet side green lanterns, Simon and Jessica. So they responded to handle the potential situation. 
Things rapidly spun out of control when they realized it wasn't just a Star Sapphire. 
"I hate to say this but we're gonna need backup" Simon tells Cyborg, "the Star Sapphire has brought something with her. My first guess was a white martian but..." The other one can do some manner of density shifting, and he can go invisible, but they know ways around that. Whatever this one is doing isn’t that though.
"Why isn't this working!?!" Comes Jessica's slightly panicked voice in the distance, "he keeps just going through my creations! dammit, think think Jess" She tried to contain him with a flamethrower construct but he just ignored it, like he’s seemingly ignoring everything else she’s throwing at him.
"Our constructs have zero effect on the other one, the alien, meta? man I don’t know he’s human shaped" 
"What is the situation other than the two hostiles?"
"Uh we got some government agents who are retreating because of the Star Sapphire wrecking their stuff. And the civilian people here seem to be falling under her influence, so she must be human. She's from here, she needs emotional connection to pull that stuff off."
The people are furious, the violet glow around them clearly indicates that the girl is using her ring to amp them up but if Simon didn’t know any better he’d say this was red lantern stuff.
Well there are more ways to whip people up into a frenzy, by hurting their loved ones for example.
There is a brief moment where it can be heard that Simon and Jessica try to get into a more advantageous position. 
Simon grunts, "dammit, those agents seemed to have weapons that actually worked on the other guy but the Star Sapphire used her violet constructs to shield him and destroy their guns and we've been struggling since" this whole situation stinks, he has a weird feeling about all of it.
"Simon this is really really bad, i can't keep restraining all these civilians, we're running out of energy fast!"
Cyborg tries to get a visual on the situation from his position in the Watchtower while he’s notifying any league affiliated heroes who are nearby and available. 
But all of a sudden he realizes there is just nothing, just a big lap of void where the two lanterns are supposed to be, there is no cctv footage, no cell towers, no internet connection. Just what the hell is going on here.
Then the audio transmission starts to violently crackle.
A new voice laced with static can suddenly be heard, "There you two are"
"Shit"
"Is the justice league coming yet? Are they finally going to do something?" the staticy voice continues.
"Stay back you-"
"Or maybe they still need more of a reason to act" 
The audio cuts out. 
"Jessica! Simon! Come in!" ... "Shit!" 
Cyborg finally gets a clear picture with the satellite cameras and now sees the entirety of Amity Park has been covered with a crystalized violet dome. It’s then that he remembers the story Hal told quite some time ago now about a Star Sapphire who managed to put a whole planet into love stasis.
They are gonna need more help with this one he thinks.
Meanwhile Jazz is still shakily trying to figure out how her new pink powers work, now that all the fighting is over (for now), the GIW forcefully expelled from Amity, and the two Justice league people captured and restrained.
Everything happened so fast, one moment the GIW had knocked out her brother and were forcefully taking him away and while she saw them drive off (she was pretty sure she was screaming) a pink thing just froze her in place, She was pretty sure someone said something about “great love in her heart” and then she was… well she was flying and- and there wasn’t really any time to question things then so she may have kinda gone and ripped into the van that had Danny.
She’s pretty sure she healed him, and then things just completely spiraled out of control from that point on. and now she’s here.
She’s pretty sure this is crazy villain behavior, she’s going to get put on some sort of watchlist and then she’ll never get to be a psychologist but it’s fine.
Her little brother is safe, that’s all that matters. And she will keep it that way.
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falesten-iw ¡ 19 hours ago
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Survival in Gaza is a fight for everyone and everything, not just humans. Every living thing is caught up in this nightmare, from the smallest creatures to the strongest among us. Take this little cat, for instance. She’s from Jabalia refugee camp, Al-Tarens neighborhood, house number 96, sixth street. Yeah, I know her address. She’s one of us, a Palestinian too, sitting alone in the rubble, her fur matted and dusty, with a raw, swollen eye that speaks of all she’s been through. She’s lost her hearing; explosions shake her tiny frame, but she doesn’t even react anymore. And yet, her will to survive? Unbroken.
In so many ways, she’s Gaza in a nutshell. Life here is a brutal, endless test of endurance. The genocide, the bitter cold, the soaring prices that turn basic needs like food, shelter, medicine into unattainable luxuries. These are things my family and countless others can only dream of.
For families in Gaza, survival itself has become a privilege. Nonprofits that once helped have pulled out, forced away by the very forces that keep us oppressed. And the few who stayed? Acting as middlemen, diverting the aid that’s supposed to be for us. Some prioritize their own networks in distributing aid; others resell what little is sent. Some even claim that half of donations get eaten up by "logistics costs." And then there’s aid that supposedly just "never arrives." So, families like mine are left to fend for ourselves, stripped of even the basic dignity that comes with having our needs met.
I look at this little cat, and I’m struck by the fragility of life here. My family’s hanging by a thread, surviving day to day in a world that seems indifferent to everything we’re going through. And yet, like her, we just keep going. Not because we’re strong or resilient, but because, honestly, what other choice do we have?
If this hits home for you, if this little cat’s fight feels like something you understand, please consider helping. Every donation, no matter the amount, goes directly to where it’s needed most. It can mean a bit of warmth, a moment of safety, maybe even a sliver of hope in these times that feel darker than anything.
From a heart that’s been broken too many times, thank you for standing with us.
Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.
Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link
Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link
Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link
Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link
If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead.
Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 250 SEK is equivalent to 25 dollars, and 506 SEK equals 50 dollars and so on.
Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link
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entitled-fangirl ¡ 2 days ago
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All the time we wish for.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT just smut dude
Summary: Cregan is eager to show his wife the Northern hot springs.
A/n: Based on an ask from forever ago- I think from @princessvelaryon before we became friends but I can't remember 😭😭 queen if it was you, you're a real one
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"Cregan, where are w-"
"-Just trust me, sweet girl. Trust me."
She eyes him, not able to stay angry at the happiness that radiates from him. "I do…" she trailed off.
"Almost there. Should be right…" his head turned back and forth in search of something. "Ah." He pulled her in the direction his eyes were set on. 
He pulls her into a cave, immediately moving to take off her cloak. She pulls away in concern at first- taking off a cloak in the dead of winter here feels like a death sentence. But his head tilted just slightly and he moved forward to do it again, to which she let him. 
The fur dropped onto the ground of the cave. She looked over her shoulder at it. 
At the sight of her neck exposed, Cregan leaned to her and nipped at the skin. 
She jumped, a breath escaping her. "Cregan, my cloak-"
"The cold won't seep into your bones here," he muttered against her neck. 
"What?"
"You're not cold, are you?" He asked.
She looked down to the goosebumps on her arms, but she knew it wasn't from the cold. 
He lips pulled into a small smile. "My father showed me my first hot spring when I was a boy of six. Warmed us when snow fell a moon before it was supposed to. I've been hunting these spots out for years now. But this one is by far my favorite."
She took in the sight, walking further into the cave. Exactly as he said, the further she moved in, the less the cold could bother her. She looked back to him, to which he waved out, encouraging her to explore it more. 
A light waterfall poured into a small pool of water, steam waving around it. 
He moved behind her, now without his own cloak. His fingers brushed against her arm. "Do you want to try it?"
"You can… get in?"
"You can. If you want."
"I do," she breathed as she stared out at the water.
Cregan's fingers moved to her dress, pulling at the laces. His scarred and calloused fingers became gentle with her, as if handling thin glass. The laces were pulled with a gentleness she didn't even feel, but she knew from the way his arms moved from her peripheral vision and the loosening of her dress. 
Eventually, she had to hold the dress up as he finished. It would have been hard to tell when he was finished if not for the sudden kisses he began to place on her shoulder. The rough pads of his fingers pushed away the material. 
She let go, letting it fall to the ground. Cregan took on the next challenge of her thin layers of underskirt, but he was quick to pull the ribbons apart. Piece by piece, her clothing fell onto the dirt covered floor of the cave, but neither really cared.
She was growing impatient, and by the time Cregan had untied the last bit of her skirt, she was all but tearing at her shift. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons, the adrenaline doing nothing to help her coordination. He pushed her up against his chest, reaching his arms around to help her. 
She watched his large fingers unbutton each one at a pace too slow for her. "Cregan-"
"-We have all the time we wish for," He murmured.
She forced herself to take a small breath, though it was shaky. 
Cregan's hand ran down her stomach once he finished, admiring the woman against him. 
She whined lightly and leaned her head back against his shoulder, to which she earned a chuckle from him. His hand moved down her shift, grabbing the fabric and beginning to pull it up at an agonizingly slow pace. 
She felt the air move up her legs as the shift came up until it paused at her upper thigh. "Don't stop now."
"Should I?" He asked as his nose pressed to the side of her head, his voice in her ear. "I do love to watch you beg, my love."
"You either continue the Stark line with me in this hot spring-"
"Or what?" He asked with a smirk, pulling away from her and turning her to face him. Her shift fell back down.
Her confidence faltered for a second, then turned to teasing. "Or the line ends with you."
A low growl sounded from his throat. His eyes raked over her slowly as a new light came to his eyes. "Take it off."
She did so, dropping it quickly as Cregan focused on the strings of his doublet. 
As soon as she was bare, she moved to help Cregan but he held a hand out as his eyes took her in. He spoke, but his voice trailed off a bit as if distracted by the sight. "I've… I've got it."
She tilted her head in amusement and ran a hand down his chest, accepting his decision. She moved down to the spring, sitting at the edge, and dipped her leg in. She let out an instinctive groan at the feeling.
Cregan's lips parted as he watched her. He truly did mean to undress himself, but he was distracted. 
"Cregan," she chided at him lightly. 
He gave a heavy blink and snapped out of his daze, "Sorry, I-"
She gave him a knowing look. 
He made quick work of pulling off his doublet, yanking at the strings of the next layer until he stood in only his trousers and boots. 
He stepped down to her side, standing behind her with a hesitation.
She peered up at him from under her lashes. 
He felt the tent in his pants at the sight, one he was more familiar with than he cared to admit. It reminded him of all the nights he had returned to their chambers in a rage from planning for this war. She had always sat on that sofa with a knowing smile, asking if he was stressed. 
She had a way of taking away his stress before he even remembered how it got there. 
"Changing your mind now?" She asked him softly.
He shook his head, sitting down next to her and beginning to unlace his boots. "I'd like to believe I'm a man that follows through."
She kicked at the water lightly. "Follow through then."
Cregan's breath hitched as he looked to her. "I will."
He pulled his boots off, throwing them aside and pulling at his pants. He quickly got into the small pool, letting out a sinful groan as the warmth enveloped him. 
She watched the man with pure adoration in her eyes. The way his broad shoulders flexed as he lowered himself made her brush her thighs together. 
He turned in the water, now facing her with a broad smile. He pulled himself to her and kissed her leg lightly. He nuzzled at her knee, silently asking her to spread her legs. She hesitated, knowing his smile would only turn cocky if she did so. 
He brought a hand up, the water dripping down his wrist. His fingers brushed up her calf to her knee, pushing that leg to the side. His eyes moved slowly to her core, his eyes lighting up. 
She felt her entire body heat up as her husband admired her. Though she wanted to close her legs, she'd never felt safer. 
He kissed her leg lightly, holding her leg out to give him room. He began to kiss up her leg. 
She reached out quickly behind his head to pull his hair up before it dipped in the water. He grinned up at her and continued his movements. 
She watched in agony as his lips moved closer and closer to the very place she wanted them. When his lips ghosted over her clit, his breath brushing over it became antagonizing. She tugged at his hair in instinct, earning a playful glare of lust from the man. His light eyes had a dark intent behind them, a sin neither of them were ashamed of. 
Cregan laid a soft kiss to her slit, purposefully bumping his nose against her bundle of nerves. A small squeak sounded from her, spurring something deep inside of him. 
He stood in the pool, grabbing her hips firmly and lowering her into the water against him. She held his shoulders, relaxing in the warm water. 
He shifted her lightly, now completely wrapping his arm around her so their bodies were as close as possible, his face tucking into her neck and kissing at the skin. 
Her head fell back, her mouth opening in bliss. As she had done earlier with him, Cregan grabbed her hair, clumping it in one large hand while pulling at the roots as well. It was a mission to him to keep her hair dry, for if it didn't, she'd surely freeze once out of the cave. 
"Cregan, please."
The hand around her waist fell, moving down between her thighs. He rubbed at her slit through the water, slipping a finger in. 
She gasped. 
…
It's an unspoken fact that most Starks were created in the Northern hot springs, and there's no doubt that one was created that cold day. 
Cregan had never been more thankful for the sudden snow.
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mv1simp ¡ 19 hours ago
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Slow Down♥️
Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader (SocialMedia!AU)
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I’m so down if you’re ready, I’ll show you if you let me, girl (she said fuck me like I’m famous, I said okay)
You and Max Verstappen are very well known in the media, for having one of the most volatile rivalries in the sporting world. But Ferrari’s Princess and Redbull’s Mad Max send shockwaves through the paddock when your PR teams confirm you’re officially dating. The public have a hard time believing it…until your sex tape gets leaked on Twitter a month later. Social Media!AU
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, trying my hand at a SM! AU for the first time!!, dom! Max and switch! Reader, size kink, sexism, max being a feminist king
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Everyone always said there was a thin line between love and hate. Frankly, you find it to be sexist bullshit, rolling your eyes everytime some interviewer or your friends or trainer would make some sly comment about so what’s going on between you and Max, with a suggestive wiggle of their eyebrows. Nothing, just him trying to run me off the track repeatedly and giving me 4 bruised ribs in Singapore when he clipped me illegally, you say with an annoyed tone. You know that if you were a man, and not the first female driver in decades in F1, you wouldn’t be getting randomly shippedwith all the drivers. And for gods sake, Verstappen off all people was the most laughable idea. The man was either being a violent menace on the track or an autistic twelve year old off it, you think vehemently. You two had stayed well out of each others way in your Haas seat last year, with you leading the mid pack in the suboptimal car but Max remaining well out of reach at the front of the pack. But this year, you’d earned yourself a Ferrari seat and were ecstatic to finally be able to compete for a WDC.
That was, until you and Max Verstappen suddenly started to keep getting caught in each others crosshairs. What started as polite indifference between two coworkers blew up into a PR frenzy, with you and Max completing for the top step in the podium every race weekend. He thought you a reckless driver, getting lucky in a rocket ship this year and trying to sink her claws into something she can’t handle. You thought him over arrogant, a man who couldn’t handle losing to a girl, his fragile ego unable to handle losing a 4th WDC to a Ferrari driver who was only in her second F1 season.
And then, two months out from the end of the season, everything changed between you and Max. On a night out in Monaco with your friends, celebrating being home from triple headers, you’d had the unfortunate experience of being cornered by some drunk, sexist creep who thought he was entitled to touch you. He’d been stronger than you expected, pinning you in a dark alleyway and you just when you starting to freak out, Max of all people practically threw the guy off you. He’d angrily spat at the drunk to pick on someone his own size or he’d break his jaw next time, before leading you to his car with a gentle hand. Normally, you found Max’s far larger frame to be annoying, another way for him to intimidate you when he glared downwards. But that night you couldn’t help but be grateful for the muscular, tall man and his attentive blue eyes as you willingly follow him with wide, doe eyes.
The ride home had been silent, you nervously clutching the large sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you from his backseat. And when you’d thanked him for his help, saying you appreciate him looking out for you even though he hated you, he looked at you with genuine surprise. I don’t hate you, he’d said. Well, I suppose we have had our differences on the track. You snickered at this, muttering that’s one way of putting it. Max chuckled, making you peer at him curiously as you’d never heard him do that in your presence. He was actually very handsome, you noted, without an angry scowl on his face or that Redbull helmet covering him. Then you tell your tipsy brain to shut up because where the hell had that thought suddenly come from?!
But really, I think you’re a pretty amazing girl off the track, Max continued. It must be hard being the only female driver, but you always have something good to say to the dumb interview questions you get. And I’m not going to stand by and let any woman be felt up by some creep. Even if it’s the Princess of Ferrari, he adds with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at this, stepping out of his car as you reach your apartment. And when you offer him his hoodie back, he tells you to keep it. You can use it to stay warm at the next race - it’s Brazil, very rainy. Did I mention I’m called the rainmaster, incidentally? You burst out laughing at his lack of subtlety, and he smiles at having distracted you, making the scared look in your pretty doe eyes from earlier disappear. Fuck off, Verstappen, you giggle, and for once your words have no real bite.
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By the time your second F1 season is over, and you’re receiving your trophy for the world championship at the Prizegiving Gala, the first female to do so, you and Max Verstappen have became good friends. Maybe something more, from all the time you’ve started spending together off the track gaming, playing padel, and going out drinking. You were far too afraid to ever say something to him, knowing the media response to the first female driver dating a fellow driver would be absolutely brutal. Besides, you had no idea if Max remotely felt the same way about you - his type seemed to be pretty models, not aggressive drivers who spent half her time plotting his downfall.
You’re surprised when he finds you at the after party, late into the night, where everyone is too plastered to note that the fallen Redbull champion is taking the winning Ferrari Princess to a private level on the yacht. If you think I’m going to apologise for breaking your winning streak, you can try again, you announce dramatically as you grin at him, 5 drinks in and pink lips loosened, letting him know you were jesting. Wouldn’t have it any other way, Princess, Max hums, coming to stand so close to you that your heart rate quickens when you feel warmth radiating from the taller, muscular driver. Besides, I’ll be taking the cup next year, anyways. Enjoy the high while you can, he says in his Dutch accent, all cocky.
You let out an outraged gasp at this, forgetting how close you two already are as you step towards him, accusing hand pressed against his firm chest. But before you can say anything, Max’s gorgeous blue eyes drop down to where your manicured nails are touching his pecs. And then he looks down further, to where your plush tits have pressed up against his abs, your cute red corset minidress pushing your cleavage up temptingly. There’s no mistaking the dark desire that swirls in his intense gaze as he looks back into your wide doe eyes. And then he’s leaning in, finally, you think, and then your brain wakes up and you remember who’s in front of you. We can’t, Max, you say breathlessly, dazed by how attractive he looks when turned on. Why not, the Dutchman demands, cocky as usual. You don’t want this, Princess? His large hand brushed your jaw, tilting your face upwards when you try to look away. Your breath hitched from the contact, and you’re sure he can feel how fast your carotid pulse is beating. It’s-it’s not that I don’t want to, you say with a blush, making a pleased smirk appear on Max’s lips. But I’m the only female driver on the grid, the public would tear me apart if they found out I hooked up with another driver on the grid-
Fuck what anyone else thinks, Max says passionately, the familiar spark of defiance in his eyes. I know the fallout from something like this would be much harder for you as a woman than me, and I waited till after the championship fight finished. No one can contest you didn’t win the cup with your own sheer skill. But now that it’s finished, I can’t hold back anymore. Your jaw drops from Max’s heated confession, never having guessed the handsome blonde would reciprocate your buried romantic feelings. And I don’t mean some one night stand or summer fling, he continued boldly. I want to be your boyfriend, I want you all to myself properly.
You must have had too many G&Ts, you hear yourself say distantly, cause you’re not even a little bit cute and shy like you normally are off the track, Verstappen. He smiles gently, knowing you were using humour to deflect from the swirling emotions within you. Maybe, he murmurs, bending down to rest his forehead against yours. Or maybe you look so fucking gorgeous in this red dress I knew I couldn’t hide how I feel anymore. When he feels your hand graze his chest, pulling him just a bit closer, he knows what you want. Pressing the gentlest of kisses to your glosses lips, he pulls back to make sure you still wanted more.
But he didn’t need to have any doubts, because you’re staring up at him sultrily, desire having darkened your own wide, doe eyes. This time you’re pulling him back onto your lips, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders so that there’s not even a millimetre of space between you too. He groans into your mouth as the months of tension come to a head, the two of you languidly exploring each others mouth with tongues.
Even if you’d woken up the next morning regretting your decision, there was no way you could turn down Max’s offer of a relationship. Because even if you had still hated him, the sex that night on the yacht has been so incredibly mind blowing, by far the best orgasm you had ever experienced, that you knew you’d never meet anyone who could fuck you so perfectly again. So you hesitantly said yes, let’s try this for real, Max over a late hungover brunch the next morning. The rest had been history - the two of you had spent the last 7 months in a secret relationship, not wanting the chaos of the media to ruin your relationship before it could even start properly. Max has proven time and time again you’d made the right decision saying yes, being the perfect boyfriend, dedicated to all your needs and wants, spoiling you endlessly and making you laugh whenever you had a bad day.
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Sometimes things were hard, of course. Like when you two had tensions during a race, your private relationship doing nothing to dampen the competitive spirit you both shared. But you’d both make up after, whether it be with a long debrief and strategy talk on how to avoid an incident next time - or your personal favourite, some angry make up sex. Like you’d suspected, Max was an absolute sex god and you two enjoyed a very healthy sex life, exploring each others kinky preferences. So when you’d have to be away from each other for long periods, busy with planning and meetings at your separate team bases, your boyfriend came up with a solution once the nudes and phone sex didn’t quite hit the same.
Filming yourselves during sex seemed like a certain recipe for disaster, given how famous the two of you are and the consequences of anything got leaked. But the temptation was too great as weeks drag on without the touch of your boyfriend - so you agreed, just this once, to try it out.
Well, that had certainly been the plan. But the video had been so so nice to watch again and again anytime your pussy ached for Max that you can’t resist making more. And then last month when your teams had finally given the okay for an official announcement on your relationship, and the media response had overall been surprisingly positive, you two get too comfortable and Max accidentally sent the video over DM to you, instead of the encrypted chat you normally use.
And that was when shit hit the fan.
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No, Max, go away, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to see anyone ever again! The blonde Dutchman sighs he leans his head against the closed bathroom door with a worried expression on his face. You’ve locked yourself in his Monaco penthouse’s bathroom for the past 4 hours, not coming out despite how much he’s pleaded. Please, schatje, he tries again. I know it’s bad, but we’ll get through it together. Twitter’s already banned any links of the video and both our PR teams are doing damage control and so many of the grid drivers and journalists were calling out the website that had leaked the tape. Please, I just want to see you, you can’t be locked in there forever and reading all the stuff online alone.
When you don’t reply, only sniffling through the door, he sighs again and slides down the door, making himself comfortable. A few minutes later he hears the door unlock and your red, crying face peeking through. Oh, schatje, he croons soothingly as you drop down into his arms and bury your face in his thick neck. He rubs soothing circles along your back as you sniffle that Everyone’s saying such horrible things, Maxie. How am I going to face going on the paddock ever again?
He reassures you firmly that you two would go hand in hand, united on the paddock with your heads held high, because you’ve done nothing wrong. He’d been doing the media game a lot longer than you and knew this scandal, like everything else, would get blown over with time. After your quiet sobs settle with his comforting words and tight hug, you pull back to look at him and apologise for shutting yourself away and not checking in on him. It’s your leaked tape too, you say anxiously. How are you feeling about it, baby?
He eases your concern again, telling you honestly that in the grand scheme of things, although it was a little mortifying he’s had worse in the media. Besides, it’s gonna be satisfying to crush whichever little fucker leaked the vid, he says vehemently. Any anyone who’s saying any bullshit sexist comments about you sleeping your way into F1 or anything is getting hit with a defamation lawsuit from legal, he declares, making your heart swell from his protectiveness. You still aren’t convinced, though. Are you sure, Max? I remember in that particular video, you can’t see much of my body but there’s definitely a lot of shots of your…
Dick? Your boyfriend finishes with a deadpan expression, That’s fine. Besides, I’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. You know the hashtag Verstappen’s third leg is trending on Twitter now? You giggle at his nonchalance, making Max smile at seeing you cheered up. You’ve finally having processed what happened enough to maybe see a bit of humour in it. True, I suppose it could have been worse, you muse. The Las Vegas video could have been the leaked one. Imagine how batshit the fans would have gotten if they saw the handcuffs were for you, not me. Max laughs genuinely, blue eyes looking fondly at your mischievous expression. The familiar Ferrari fire he adored was back in your own pretty doe eyes.
Or worse, the Barcelona one, you tease as you lead him to the kitchen to start making dinner. Scrolling through hundreds of posts and spiralling was calorie consuming work. I think Twitter would have shut down if they found out Max Verstappen likes being called daddy in the bedroom.
Your boyfriend’s face goes adorably pink as he stammers at your unexpected roast. Hey-hey now, schat, that was just one time okay? You’d just accidentally said it and it caught me off guard-
You grin playfully, giving him a kiss on the cheek because he looked too cute to resist. Sure, baby, so off guard you lasted 5 seconds after that. His face goes even pinker, reaching the tips of his ears now as he shyly looks away. For all his fierceness on the track, you loved how sweet the Dutch Lion was off it. Giggling, you put him out of his misery by handing him a knife and tell him to get to work chopping the tomatoes. You knew no matter what came your way, you would be fine with Max by your side.
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A/N: okkk so what did u guys think at my first attempt at a social media AU ahaha. You know I love to yap I fear I included too many Twitter screenshots, I ALWAYS GET CARRIED AWAY. Anyway this was super fun pulled me right out of my writers block!!! Hope u enjoy xx
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derealizationns ¡ 3 days ago
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"intimacy"
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characters - katsuki bakugou x fem reader
synopsis - katsuki’s tough facade crumbles as soon as you two are together, and he loves every second of it.
genre - fluff!!! so much fluff 🥹
warnings - none 🫧
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katsuki loves intimacy. he definitely won’t show it, but he’s all for it. that boy is so used to being tough and everything, that it makes him crave those tender and gentle moments.
just imagine simple things like making dinner. the world seems silent, the only things you can hear are the shuffles of yours and katsuki’s slippers and the raindrops hitting the roof of your shared home. bakugou is chopping food on the counter, with you sitting beside him on top of the island, swinging your legs and just observing his movements.
your presence brings him so much comfort, though you aren’t even doing anything special. just the feeling of domesticity makes katsuki experience some weird warm sensation in his chest. he subconsciously smiles at that. it’s a faint smirk, but you still notice it.
after jumping off the countertop, you wrap your arms around his chest and place your head on his muscular back. he huffs with fake annoyance, but in reality, this gesture makes him incredibly happy.
“whatcha doin’, idiot?” he asks.
you roll your eyes at his question.
“i’m showing love to my incredibly strong boyfriend, don’t pretend that you don’t like it.”
at that moment, katsuki shuts up. he can’t lie to your pretty face, that would be cruel, so he just decides to remain silently enjoying your presence and warmth.
some other day, you are lying under the covers with your boyfriend. it’s saturday afternoon, meaning that you two have a day off, just for yourselves. bakugo decided that both of you should watch a movie that just came out, but truth be told, he didn’t even pay attention to it. the boy is simply staring blankly at the tv, visibly deep in thought. you quickly notice his weird behavior and decide to bring it up.
“kats?” you start.
his attention quickly switches to you, bright red eyes staring into yours curiously.
“what’s wrong?” the question falls from your lips.
his expression changes to one of slight shock. perhaps bakugou didn’t realize that he was visibly zoning out, or maybe he just didn’t expect you to mention it. after a few seconds of silence, bakugo finally speaks up.
“nothin’ is wrong, why you askin’?”
you sigh at his words. he is clearly hiding something from you. just when you wanted to scold him for his obvious lie, he speaks again.
“just thinkin’… ’bout how much i love you, i guess…” he starts, but he’s not looking at you anymore; his eyes are fixed on the ceiling. bakugo feels so embarrassed after he says this. the boy silently curses himself for speaking up.
you look at him confused but can’t deny the warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest. katsuki wasn’t the one to express his love so directly, and that took you aback.
“every memory i have with you makes me feel… weird. like, not bad weird, just… puzzled, i guess? i’ve never felt that way, so it’s hard to exp—” you cut off his rambling before he finishes.
“i know what you mean, kats. every moment, even the simplest and most boring one, stirs up something within you, am i right?”
your boyfriend sends you a shocked look. he didn’t expect you to read his emotions so well. you just said everything right! how is that possible? did you read his mind or something? or maybe… it was because those were the same feelings you have…?
“yeah… i think you’re right…” he mumbles, visibly embarrassed by this conversation, so you think it’s time to cut it off.
“but it’s a good feeling, right? like you’re not… overwhelmed?” you ask him worriedly.
katsuki shoots you a look that you think was supposed to be scolding.
“what? no, you idiot. it’s… it’s good, i like it.”
you smile at his words and tuck yourself closer to him, bathing in his warmth.
“that’s good…” you whisper and feel yourself slowly doze off, as bakugou leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.
you sleep soundly, dreaming about every soft and domestic moment you had with katsuki. and there were many more to come.
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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ kirara’s notes . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
thank you for reading this, hope you liked it! likes, follows and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🤍🫧
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dragon-ascent ¡ 3 days ago
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Imagine being able to see people’s elemental aura. If they bear a vision, the energy around them takes the color of the corresponding element. So Pyro users have a burning red-orange energy flickering about them while Dendro wielders are draped in a calm deep green. Only you can see their aura, perhaps just a special (but mostly useless) gift you were born with.
Which is why when you start working for Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and are introduced to Zhongli, you’re freaking out that you can’t tell anyone he’s actually the Geo Archon who is supposed to be dead.
Shimmering golden rays with a glare so intense they may just be exploding stars suspended in sunlight…yes, the aura around him is simply unmistakable. The Dendro Archon’s wavelength was of a similar intensity back when you attended the Sabzeruz festival. The appearance of the Raiden Shogun during Irodori had you beholding a similar feeling.
Zhongli’s every action only confirms it, not that confirmation was ever needed. His knowledge is too vast to be that of a young man, his mannerisms more ethereal than worldly, his gait steadier than stone.
Soon enough, he takes notice of the way you’re always so jittery around him – but he chalks it up to you being a naturally skittish thing. So he tries to alleviate your nerves by talking to you any chance he gets…not that that helps because his every word has you even more on edge.
“So true, bestie!” you blurt out after he’s told you something that’s gone in one ear and out the other. “Speaking of, isn’t it so sad that Rex Lapis is dead?”
Zhongli pauses, eyeing you curiously. “My dear, this is the third time this week you have brought up the topic of the Geo Lord’s death. Has it affected you so? Please take comfort in that He remains in all our hearts, watching over us common folk from the afterlife.”
He’s mocking me, I just know it! you think, your cheeks heating up as you try not to stare at the divine golden aura crackling around him.
One time, as (un)luck may have it, you accidentally bump into him and spill coffee on his beautiful suit. “Oh gods! Forgive me!” you wail, getting onto your knees. This time…this time he’ll certainly show you his godly wrath…maybe skewer you with his spear…or summon a fissure to swallow you…
But Zhongli is chuckling softly, dabbing at the stain with his lovely embroidered handkerchief. “Please do not fret, my friend. This is nothing a wash will not fix.”
You then insist you’ll cover the cost and get it cleaned, to which he eventually accedes. Holy…when he takes it off to reveal his cream-coloured shirt underneath, it’s like his aura gets even more blinding. It takes everything in you not to just throw yourself at his feet and sing his praises.
(How gorgeous he looks as he works the rest of the day with his coat off.)
He warmly invites you over to his place for tea when you come to return his coat, now cleaned; the house is as well-kept as he is. As night falls, the glow around him only strengthens in response. You can’t stop yourself from asking, mid-sip of your well-made tea:
“What’s Rex Lapis doing working a salaried job?”
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alwaysthefool ¡ 2 days ago
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Your turn to be a cat (x Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier)
Warnings: Suggestive, might have minor spoilers for cat companion memories, kinda cringe ngl
Tags: Fluff (literally), MC/Reader, no gendered pronouns for you
Synopsis: This time, you’re the one who gets a cat tail and a second set of ears.
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Zayne
“When you said medical emergency, this isn’t what I had in mind.” Zayne looked at your ears, a first aid kid in his hand. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since you texted him, telling him it was something dire and you couldn’t go to the hospital, and there he was, at your door, stifling a smile.
“Don’t laugh!” You scolded him, turning red, the tail you tried to hide inside your hoodie peeking out. You grabbed it immediately, forcing it back in. You pulled him inside, shutting the door to your apartment.
“Don’t fold your tail, it’ll be bad for your back.” Zayne spoke, taking off his shoes and keeping the first aid kit near the entrance. “And besides, it’s very cute.”
The tail made its way back out, and listening to your doctor’s advice, you let it be. “Help me out my hoodie.” You demanded, and Zayne couldn’t help but laugh at your tone, carefully helping you out your hoodie so as to not bother your sensitive ears, one of his hands holding down your t-shirt from riding up.
“Thanks.” You mumbled, curling up on the couch, your tail swaying against its will. Zayne made his way next to you, unable to stop himself from touching it. “It’s really soft.” He observed, his large hand stroking it lightly.
“Quit playing around!” You whined, not really wanting him to stop, but being the gentleman he was, he did, not taking revenge for how you treated him when he was a cat. “How do I make it go away?”
“Can I have a closer look at your tail?” Zayne asked, and you hissed, earning a laugh out of him. “Alright, I won’t look, but you shouldn’t be shy around your doctor, especially when you’re the one who called me here.”
“You’re not just my doctor…” You looked up at him a little hopefully, tail swaying again.
Zayne smiled. “You’re right, I suppose I’m your vet now.”
You pouted, walking away from him in feline elegance, taking your place on the adjacent arm chair, lying on it with your tail in the air. “How did you feel when you were a cat?”
“Needy.” Zayne admitted, after some thought.
Like a cat, you wanted something, but you were too proud to admit it. “Then…” You sat up on the chair, gazing at him, tail swaying behind you. “How do you, how do you… how do you think I must be feeling right now?” You shied away immediately, cat ears perking up.
Zayne would take care of you, no matter what, so before you knew it, you were on his lap, his large hands stroking your ears. “If you wanted me, you should’ve just said so.”
You purred, nuzzling on his chest, holding on to him tightly, as his hands worked on your ears and tail. “You knew.”
“Maybe.” Zayne spoke into your ear. Your heightened senses could listen to his racing heart, and his gushing blood. “But I really wanted to hear you ask.”
Rafayel
Honestly, he’d be EMPATHETHIC loool
You were supposed to accompany him for an event, but as you put on your dress, you felt cold from behind. Looking in the mirror, you saw a tail pulling your dress up, and a pair of ears on your head. You yelped, turning the lights off, and hiding in a corner. This couldn’t be happening.
“Cutie, what was that?” Rafayel called from outside the door. You had the misfortune of being at his house when it happened too. You quietly opened the window, to make it seem like maybe you ran away. You would, too, but you couldn’t be seen in public like that.
“I’m coming in!” Rafayel called upon hearing the sound of the window opening. You quietly hid under his bed.
Rafayel was already in his suit and tie, giving off a certain scent which made him seem oddly delectable.
“Where did you go…” He mumbled, looking at the open window. You could only see his feet now, so you couldn’t tell what he was doing, until your phone buzzed. You scrambled to turn it silent, when Rafayel crouched down, peeking under the bed.
Before you knew it, you scratched him with a hiss.
“Ow!” He stood back up, and you could smell his blood. You didn’t expect yourself to do that, or for the scratch to draw blood.
You crawled out, standing up to look at his hand. “I’m so sorry!” As you realised what you did, you took your hands away from his wounded hand, trying to hide your tail.
“I, uh…” You couldn’t meet Rafayel’s eyes, scared of what he was thinking.
“Oh, it’s just you.” Rafayel sighed. “I thought a cat sneaked in.”
He saw your tail lifting up your dress, and wrapped his coat around your waist. You still turned away from him, looking guilty. “Cutie, look at me.” He called gently. “It was just a scratch, and you didn’t mean it.”
You looked up at him, and his face was gentle, nothing like you expected. “Why did you hide from me?” He asked, his hands on your cheeks.
“I thought you’d be disgusted of me. I’m a cat, after all.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” He coaxed you, pulling you into a hug. “I could never be disgusted by you. I told you before, right? I’d love you even if you were a worm.”
You let out a laugh, hugging him back, pulling him down on the bed behind you. He kept holding you, surprised by the sudden affection. “And you’re also the only cute cat in the world.”
Sylus
SUGGESTIVE
This was bad. Sylus would never let you live it down, but you also had no choice but to tell him. Your first thought after being turned into half a cat was volunteering at the cat café, so you’d get to spend time around the kitties, but that isn’t what the OTTO had in mind when giving you that outfit. Now you needed someone to help you out there.
“Are you done?” The OTTO asked, its tone irritated.
You remained dead silent, texting Sylus to ‘smash that devilish robot into pieces’.
You heard commotion outside, then some banging, thinking maybe, finally, Sylus had arrived, leaning your ear against the door.
“Loving the new look, sweetie.” Sylus was somehow behind you, hand already on your tail. You immediately turned around to see him gaze fondly at you, who was sat leaning against the door. “Guess you’ve been affected by the cat evol too.”
You looked away from his strong gaze, suddenly very aware of what OTTO made you wear. A short maid dress, with an opening at the back for your tail, and chiffon gloves with a cat paw stitched on them. Before you could change back, the sinister robot stole your clothes.
“I’m pleased you decided to call me in such a situation.”
“Shut up…” You mumbled.
“That’s no way to speak to the person who saved you, kitten.” This time, that word held a whole new meaning.
“I’m… sorry.” You forced, ears drooping down. You looked up at him with a pout, and he pet you behind the ears. You rubbed your head against his head, until you realised what you were doing, forcing yourself to stop. You cleared your throat.
“That’s rare coming from you.” He teased, fingers dancing around your jaw. There was a certain scent to them, so you bit him, though not hard enough to draw blood. Sylus winced, pulling back. “There’s the kitten I know.”
“Did you bring a change of clothes like I asked?”
Sylus hummed in response, not really focusing on anything other than playing with your hair and ears, hands trickling down to where your tail was, pulling at the ribbons of the dress, acting more like a cat than you. You leaned in to him, and he placed a gentle kiss on the back of your neck.
Understanding where this was going, you reluctantly held his arm. “Mm, let’s not, I’m super hairy right now.” You said, referring to all the cat fuzz.
“That’s fine.” Sylus whispered into your ear. “I prefer it like that.”
Xavier
“Ugh…” You groaned, still sleepy. You had work pending, but for some reason, you couldn’t keep your eyes open despite having a lot of sleep and a cup of coffee, Knowing Xavier was often in the same predicament, you went to his floor, hoping he had some insanely potent energy drinks on him.
He opened the door, also groggy, but straightening up when he saw you. “Hey.” You greeted, intending to yawn but letting out a ‘meow’ instead.
“That was strange.” You tried to laugh it off. Xavier let you inside, and you explained that you were uncharacteristically sleepy the whole day.
“How do you manage to stay up?” You were sat on his fuzzy carpet, pulling at it.
Xavier smiled, sitting down next to you. “I think there might be another reason you’re so sleepy today.” He opened his phone’s front camera, facing it towards you.
“W-what’s that?” You cried, hands going towards the ears on your head and tail behind you.
“Cats might need up to 16 hours of sleep a day.” Xavier put his phone down, leaning his elbow on the coffee table, his other hand gently touching your ear. “If you have work, I’ll do it for you.”
“Really?” Your tail moved in excitement.
Xavier nodded, as he went downstairs to get your laptop. You prowled around his house, trying to fall asleep on his bed, then looking in his fridge for something to eat, restless and impatient, irritated that you were unable to fall asleep despite being sleepy. You looked for several spots, but nothing was snug enough.
That was until you saw Xavier typing your mission reports on his laptop. You crawled over to him on all fours, setting your head down on his lap. He gave your head a few scratches, helping you fall asleep.
Despite not being a cat anymore, Xavier couldn’t help feel sleepy seeing you safely under him. Perhaps cats could sense people’s feelings, because you spoke, half asleep “Put that aside Xavi, come cuddle with me.”
Eventually, the work was discarded, and Xavier held you on his couch, legs intertwined, head buried in his chest, his arms around you protectively, pretty dreams and soft feelings warm enough for you to get through whatever your supervisors would have to say.
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alvojake ¡ 2 days ago
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After School Discipline | K.HJ
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「pairing」 : hongjoong x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.1k
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「synopsis」 : you had failed the test that he worked so hard to help you 'study' for so of course you deserved the punishment that came along with it even if it felt like torture as you begged him to give you what you wanted, yet he never compiled, showing you who exactly has the reigns.
「genre」 : smut, prof!hongjoong, dad's bsf!hongjoong, age gap, university au(ish)
「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, teasing, edging, orgasm denial, daddy kink, petnames (babygirl, baby, sweetheart...), rough sex, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, derogatory names (slut, cockslut), gagging, choking, clit play, creampie, public sex, slight hair pulling, bondage, spanking, lmk if I missed anything!!
part two ➻ here
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The sun was shining brightly through the windows in the halls of the university as you walked down the hall with your best friend, Kara, talking about each other’s days thus far. You told her how your dad finally got the day off and even made breakfast for you before you left for class, and she pouted, asking why you hadn’t invited her over.
“Please, we both know your ass was passed out,” You laughed, bumping your shoulder against her playfully, and she sent you a glare, “you literally wake up like ten minutes before you’re supposed to leave and still miraculously make it here on time. Seriously, you need to teach me your ways.”
“Har har,” Kara rolled her eyes as she pulled her phone from her pocket, checking the time just as you stopped in front of your classroom door, “Oh, do you think you passed Professor Kim’s exam?”
At the mention of the exam, you felt your blood run cold, your body freezing in its spot as you recalled your ‘study’ session with the professor. You were perched in his lap at your kitchen table, his cock buried deep in your pussy as he talked you through the questions. However, you couldn’t focus at all; the only thing your mind was on was his dick and how you wished he would just move. Eventually, he noticed that you weren’t paying attention at all and threatened to leave you high and dry if you didn’t study, whispering promises in your ear if you listened.
“Just answer a few questions for me, babygirl, and Daddy will give you exactly what you want.” His voice was smooth as he let his lips brush against the shell of your ear, making you squirm in his lap, but you listened nonetheless. Then just like he promised, after you answered the questions he gave you correctly, he bent you over the dining table and fucked you into oblivion.
“Earth to y/n.” Kara giggled as she watched your face turn a deep shade of red, already knowing exactly what you were thinking about; she then reached out, patting your shoulder with a teasing smirk on her lips. “Don’t worry. I’m sure if you suck up to him, he’ll go easy on you. 
You slapped her hand away with a pout, causing her to break out in a fit of giggles. You sent her a death glare, arms crossing over your chest. You then shoved her just enough to make her stumble a bit: " Why don’t you worry about flunking Mr. Jung’s class? We both know he isn’t forgiving.” A smug smirk tugged on your lips as she looked at you with wide eyes, but they quickly softened, and she returned your smug look.
“Jokes on you. I fail them on purpose!” She then stuck her tongue out at you before walking down the hall. You couldn’t help but laugh at her antics; were you surprised? Not even in the slightest. Kara had always been obsessed with the fox-eyed professor.
You then turn back around to look at the classroom door, dreading walking in and facing the very man you knew would ultimately punish you for flunking. Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders and walk into the classroom.
As soon as you walked through the threshold, you felt a pair of eyes on you. Looking up, you met the dark eyes of your professor. The intensity of his gaze left a chill going down your spine as you swallowed thickly and quickly looked away. You then scrambled over to your seat, trying your best to avoid Hongjoong’s gaze at all costs.
Despite trying to avoid his gaze, you could still feel his eyes burning holes into your body, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall. You prayed that everyone would hurry and get to class so he would have no choice but to spare you, but it felt like an eternity passed before the last person walked into the room.
“Alright, everyone, find your seats.” Hearing his stern tone, your body instinctively straightened, your eyes flickering to the front of the room. Hongjoong stood next to his desk, holding up a stack of papers that were more than likely the exam that you had failed. Once everyone was settled in their seats, Hongjoong spoke once more, his eyes sweeping the room, “It would seem that we didn’t spend enough time on this unit, seeing as the majority of the class scored a low score.” His eyes then trailed over to you, “some lower than others.” The dark gleam in his eyes made you squirm in your seat, wishing that the ground would just swallow you whole.
He then spoke about how he would go easy on everyone seeing as it was a difficult topic, but he couldn’t promise that he would be so forgiving next time. However, it flowed in one ear and right the other when he stepped closer to you, handing back all of the graded exams.
“I am going to return your exam sheets, and we will go over the answers together as a class.” He instructed, and you heard a few groans and sighs of relief, but no one openly complained. Your gaze then shifted down to the notebook in front of you, fiddling with your pen until your exam was placed in your line of sight. Swallowing down the lump in your throat, your eyes trailed from the paper to Hongjoong’s eyes, your heart lurching into your throat when you locked eyes. His gaze alone told you that you were in trouble far before his words were able to. “See me after class, Ms. Jeong.”
You reached out to grab your test with shaky hands, but Hongjoong didn’t release his grip on the paper, causing you to look up and catch his raised eyebrow. Letting out a shaky breath, you parted your lips slightly before speaking, “Yes, sir.”
Satisfied, he nodded before moving on, but you felt heat rush up your neck when you heard a mixture of snickers and ‘ooos’ from the students around you. All of them thought that you were in deep trouble and they wouldn’t be wrong, except it wasn’t exactly the kind of trouble that they were thinking.
After all of the papers were passed back out Hongjoong made his way back to his desk before turning to look at the class once more. You tried your best to focus on what he was going over, but your mind kept wandering to what exactly he was going to do when he got you alone. Watching his slim finger write on the chalkboard did nothing to ease the heat that was pooling in your core. 
Noticing that you were getting distracted, Hongjoong asked the class a question before pointing you out individually, knowing damn well that you had no idea what he had just asked. And the deer caught in headlights expression on your face just confirmed his suspicions. He let out a faux disappointed sigh, arms crossing over his chest.
“Please make sure to pay attention in class, Ms. Jeong.” He reprimanded you, and you felt your face burn red from embarrassment. It only grew more when you heard a few students quietly laughing off to your side.
Sinking down in your seat you mumbled a small apology, not missing the sinister smirk that was tugging on the older male’s lips. You knew that he was doing this on purpose, adding it on to your list of punishments he was going to be giving you in less than an hour. So you knew that he wasn’t about to be easy on you. Not in the slightest.
You then spent the rest of the class trying your best to pay attention, despite the growing heat in the pit of your stomach or how your core would ache any time Hongjoong let his gaze linger for just a moment too long. It was driving you up a wall, but you didn’t want to get called out again or make your punishment any worse than it already was. So you tried your best to push the growing need down and focus on your school work.
After what felt like an eternity, class had finally wrapped up, and the bell signaling the end of class rang. You stayed in your seat, hands sitting in your lap, and your fingers fiddled with the hem of your skirt as you watched all of the students pile out. You didn’t even bother packing up your things, knowing that it would be pointless in the end, so you just sat quietly until everyone was gone.
When the door finally closed behind the last person you stood from your seat with shaky legs, eyes moving up to find Hongjoong leaning against his desk, eyes already fixed on you. Without a word, he raised a hand and motioned you forward with his index and middle fingers, eyes daring you to go against him.
Knowing better than to disobey him, you bit your lip and slowly made your way towards him until you were standing just a few feet in front of him. He clicked his tongue, an annoyed expression flashing across his face as he moved forward, pushing you down to your knees. A gasp fell from your lips as your hands and knees met the cool ground, but you quickly glanced back up at the older man, knowing that you would only annoy him more if you didn’t.
“It’s such a shame. We went over those test questions for such a long time, and you got all of the answers correct, yet…” He reached down, his fingers brushing along your jaw, a trail of goosebumps following his touch, “You still failed the test; why is that babygirl?” He hummed before harshly grabbing your chin, jerking your head back in his direction the moment you started to look away and you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Did I fuck all of the answers out of that pretty head of yours?”
His head tilted to the side, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, and you instantly opened your mouth, allowing him to slip his finger into your mouth. A sinister smirk tugged on his lips as he pressed down on your tongue, and you wrapped your pretty lips around his finger, sucking gently.
“Hmm, do you think just because you’re acting so obedient now, I won’t be too rough?” He feigned pity before pulling his thumb from your mouth and wrapping his fingers around your throat, eliciting a gasp from you. “You’ve been a naughty girl, baby, and daddy has to displent his baby, right?” He asked, but you knew that it was more of a statement rather than an actual question. His tongue ran over his teeth as he watched you squirm under his hold, eyes pleading with him as your thighs pressed tightly together.
Crouching down, he pulled you forward until you were sitting on the palm of your hands once more, his face just a breath away from yours.
“Now be a good girl and put that sweet mouth of yours to work, and I might think about letting you cum.” He cooed, his hand moving from your neck back to your jaw before standing straight, letting his fingers slip from your skin.
As soon as he was standing, you crawled forward, hands going for the waistband of his slacks. Your fingers made quick work of his belt before undoing the button. Hongjoong watches in amusement as you move with urgency to get his already hard cock out of its confinement. A cute little gasp fell from your lips when it sprung free, nearly hitting your cheek.
You let go of his slacks as well as his underwear, letting them pool at his feet. Your mouth watered, and you leaned forward, taking him into your hands, admiring the pearls of precum that decorated his tip. Hongjoong watched you with a heated gaze as you grabbed his cock at the base before pressing feather-light kisses along his shaft. His fingers curled around the edge of his desk as you laid your tongue flat, licking a stripe up to his tip before encasing him in your mouth.
Your eyes flickered up to meet his, watching his jaw tense as you took him further into your mouth. The taste of precum tingled against your tastebuds, making you hum softly, eliciting a deep groan from Hongjoong.
“Fuckkk…” His head fell back for a moment before he let his gaze fall right back on you, one of his hands moving to brush some of the hair out of your face. “You’re such a dirty girl, sucking my dick like your favorite candy.” You moaned around him, the vibrations making his dick twitch in your mouth. 
He then gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail, curses falling from his lips when your tongue pressed against the vein that ran along the side of his cock. Your thighs pressed together as you listened to all of the noises that were leaving his mouth, trying your best to relieve the pressure. Your fingers dug into Hongjoong’s thighs as you fought the urge to slip one of your hands under your skirt, knowing that doing so would only land you in more trouble.
His grip on your hair grew tighter as his hips bucked forward, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You gagged at the sudden intrusion, tears stinging in the corner of your eyes.
“Shit, babygirl,” He groans as he thrusts his hips forward once more, pleasure clouding his mind as he feels your throat contract around his shaft. Your eyes squeezed shut as you let him continue to fuck your throat, tears spilling from your eyelashes until Hongjoong tugged on your hair. “Uh huh darling, keep those pretty eyes open.” His tone was stern, causing you to whine around his cock, your knees starting to ache from the cool, hard ground, but the pain only added to the pleasure.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Hongjoong chanted as his hips started to falter, his cock twitching in your mouth before you felt spurts of his hot seed coating the back of your throat. He stilled inside of your mouth for a moment, enjoying the way you struggled to breathe around him, tears spilling from your pretty eyes, trailing down to mix in with the saliva that spilled from the corner of your lips. After a few moments, he pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe properly, and let go of your hair before cupping your face. “Look at you, darling…” His thumb swiped across your bottom lip, smearing the remainder of your lipstick, an almost predatory gaze in his eyes, “such a pretty mess for me.”
Your thighs squeezed together at his words. A whine fell from your lips, and Hongjoong smirked before pulling you to your feet. His hand then found your hip, pulling your body flush against his. His face dipped down to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouth kisses along your skin.
“D-Daddy…” You breathed out, your hands moving up to snake around his neck. However, he quickly caught your wrist.
Before you could even utter a word, he switched places with you, pressing your body down against the surface of his desk. A loud gasp fell from your lips from the sudden movement, and your head turned to look at the older man.
“You don’t get to touch me, baby,” He cooed, grabbing your arms once more and gathering your wrists into his hand. You opened your mouth to protest, but the dark look he gave you made your body shiver, and you closed your mouth. All you could do was watch as he pulled his tie off before wrapping it around your wrists and pulling its tights. His hands then wandered down your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Getting down to your skirt, he hiked it further up your hips, giving him the perfect view of the pink lace panties you were wearing.
“Dadd–” Your words were cut off by a moan that tore through your lips when he landed a harsh smack on your ass, fingers rubbing the now red skin.
“You were just waiting to get punished, weren’t you?” He spanked you again, relishing in the mewls that were leaving your lips. “Such a naughty little slut.” He growled, pulling the band of your underwear before letting it snap back in place, eliciting a whine from your parted lips. The stinging pain from him spanking you and where the elastic met your skin made your head spin, arousal dripping from your throbbing cunt.
He then grabbed the fabric once more, but with more strength, and before you even realized what he was doing, the sound of fabric ripping filled the air. You whined about how they were expensive, but Hongjoong didn’t wanna hear any of it. Leaning against you, he made sure to press his hips against yours, making sure you could feel his aching cock. He brought the tattered fabric into your view, his lips right next to your ear as he spoke.
“Open up, sweetheart.” His voice was sweet, yet his actions were anything but that as he barely let you part your lips before he was shoving the fabric between your lips. A muffled moan then left your gagged mouth as he pressed his hips further against yours. “Can’t have anyone hear how much of a cockslut you are now, can we?”
He then stood straight once more, grabbing your hip in one hand and then his dick with the other. Teasing your soaping cunt with his tip, Hongjoong watched with a sinister grin as you clenched around nothing, muffled mewls leaving your lips. Your mind started to go fuzzy with need the more he continued to play with you, and your hips started to push back against him, your body begging him to stop teasing.
“Aww, do you want me to fuck you?” Hongjoong’s tone was condescending as he pressed his tip into you just to pull it right back out, his grip tight on your hips to halt your movements, “too bad, sluts don’t get to make requests.”
A loud muffled cry fell from your lips as his hand made contact with the fat of your ass once more, tears stinging in the corners of your eyes. Your body started to tremble under his hold as he relentlessly played with your body until you were sobbing, begging him to just fuck you.
Pleas fell from your lips as your nails dug into the palm of your hands, and Hongjoong smirked sinisterly as he stopped all of his movements. Your ears started to ring as you tried to make sense of what he was doing but your mind was far too fogged to even think coherently.
A choked moan tore from your lips when he suddenly thrust into you all in one go, your slick making it easier to slide right in. Buried to the hilt, he stopped moving once again, relishing in your whines and how you tried to fight against his hold to move. His lips then curled up into a snarl as you continued to try and disobey him, and his grip grew even tighter on your hips, his nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in your skin.
“Stop fucking moving.” He growled, and you whined but stopped moving, knowing that you would only be digging a deeper hole for yourself if you didn’t listen, “now don’t you dare think about cumming before I tell you to.”
You wanted to protest, but Hongjoong didn’t give you a chance before he started plowing into you mercilessly. Your body trembled violently as his tip brushed over your sweet spot with every thrust, a mixture of tears and spit covering your face as you slowly started to lose yourself in the pleasure.
Hongjoong knew your body like the back of his hand, knew all of the right buttons to push and tweak that would have you coming undone in seconds. So it wasn’t a surprise to him when your pitch grew higher, and your cunt squeezed around him like a vice. His jaw tightened as he released your hip with one hand only to trail it down your back and tangle it into your messy hair. A choked muffled cry fell from your lips as he pulled your body up.
“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, but the way you clenched around him told him that you were, even when you shook your head no. “Does my little slut wanna cum?” His voice was strangely sweet as he released your hair only to grab your neck, your eyes rolling as he squeezed your soft flesh. Stars started to dance across your vision the longer he continued to fuck into you.
He continued his rough pace until he knew you were close and then stopped. You started to lose count of how many times he’s edged you, your mind far too foggy, yet you still had enough strength to beg him to let you cum despite the piece of fabric that constricts your airway. 
Hongjoong enjoyed to teary, fucked outlook on your flushed face, a sight he would never get tired of seeing. He peppered your neck with feather-light kisses, knowing better than to leave marks that would have your father and friends questioning where they came from. Then, when he felt himself close to his own high, he decided that he would finally let you have what you’ve been begging for.
A strangled cry fell from your lips when his other hand snaked down to toy with your puffy clit, circling it in tight figure eights. Your eyes squeezed shut, pushing more tears out as you prepared yourself for him to stop once again.
But he didn’t.
“Cum for daddy babygirl, make a mess all over my cock.” Hongjoong nipped at your ear, and your mind went reeling as white spots started to cloud your vision as he fucked into you with abandon. Playing with your small bundle of nerves like his favorite instrument. Then, without any warning, your orgasm washed over you, a loud muffled cry falling from your lips, and your bound hands pressed against his abdomen. “Look at that, you can actually follow directions like a good girl, who would have thought.” He mocked you as he fucked you through your orgasm, his fingers never leaving your clit. His own high right on the tip of his tongue as you squeezed around him like you never wanted him to leave, and his jaw clenched tightly. Letting up on your clit his hand found purchase on your hip once more before leaning forward, his lips brushing over your ear. “Do you think you deserve my cum?”
He watched in amusement as you nodded your head like a bobblehead, your teary eyes pleading with him as you looked back. Muffled sounds of his name and pleas fell from your lips, hoping that he would listen, but the sinister gleam in his eye sent a chill down your spine.
“Tell me…” He released your neck before grabbing your now-soaked panties and pulling them from your swollen lips, “do you think you deserve my cum?”
“Please! I’ll be a good girl, daddy just give me your cum! Please, please, please!” You sounded like a broken record and Hongjoong smirked as he picked his pace up once more, your now unmuffled moans bouncing off of the walls. Surely, anyone walking by would be able to hear and know exactly what was going on inside, and it excited Hongjoong more than he thought it would.
“Hmm… then you better not let a drop go to waste.” He growled before he felt himself burst, painting your gummy walls white with his seed, and you cried out at the warm feeling.
“Thank you…” You breathed out as you leaned back against Hongjoong, trying to catch your breath after the intensity of everything.
Hongjoong’s grip loosened as he rubbed your hips and whispered sweet nothings in your ear until your breathing regulated. He then nipped at your ear causing your body to jolt slightly, eyes opening to look back at him.
“Are you tagging along with your father this weekend for dinner?” His voice was smooth as he pressed lingering kisses along the warm skin of your neck, making you shiver. You nodded before your head rolled to the side to give him more access, your body growing warm once again. “Good, then we can go over your test, and I can show you exactly where you went wrong.” 
His word left a shiver to run down your spine as you knew exactly what he meant by that, and as much as it worried you because your father would be there, it excited you even more at the thought of screwing around right under his nose.
And you found yourself longing for the weekend to come as soon as possible.
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@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
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sleepingdiaryzzz ¡ 2 days ago
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"DAD!"
Bruce sighed at the familiar call, instantly recognizing the voice. It was you, the child he never intended to have, thrust into his life by forces beyond his control. He still wasn't ready for this—wasn't ready to be a father.
In the early days, you’d tried calling him "father" or "dad," hoping for a connection. But he’d ignore you every time, barely acknowledging the title. Frustrated, you’d started calling him "Mr. Wayne" out of spite. And to your surprise, he responded. Since then, you'd settled into calling him as if he were just another public figure, like some distant acquaintance. You learned quickly that Bruce Wayne didn't want to be publicly labeled as your father, that he wasn’t comfortable with the label at all.
But now, hearing that word—"Dad"—from you in public, his irritation rose. He’d told you ages ago not to call him that outside the manor. Yet, there was also a sliver of satisfaction; he finally had a reason to confront you over it, something he’d oddly wanted since you’d moved in.
Turning around to find you, Bruce stopped short. There you were, arms around Harvey Dent, laughing in a way that sent a pang through him. It was the kind of bright, easy laughter he’d never heard from you in his presence. The warmth in your eyes, the carefree lightness in your smile—it all seemed reserved for Dent, a scene that felt oddly father-child-like.
His grip tightened unconsciously, fingers curling around the grass he’d been holding. Harvey looked back at you with an almost fatherly pride, and it stung in a way Bruce couldn’t have anticipated. In that moment, the crowd faded around him, and all he could focus on was the two of you, bonded in a way he hadn’t managed to be with you.
Your laughter rang in his ears like a melody he’d never noticed before, something beautiful and elusive. And for the first time, Bruce felt something new—a desire to be the one to make you laugh like that, a yearning to hear it directed at him. He wanted all of it for himself.
Bruce’s hands clenched involuntarily, his fingers digging into his palms. He told himself that he was better than Dent in every way that mattered—stronger, more capable, more disciplined. But in this, seeing how effortlessly Dent could make you feel safe and valued, he felt an unsettling flicker of doubt. Bruce could face any enemy, any challenge, but standing here, watching someone else make you feel what he couldn’t, he felt almost... inadequate.
The feeling was absurd. Jealousy wasn’t supposed to affect him; he’d trained himself to be above such things. But he couldn’t stop the bitterness gnawing at him as he watched Dent with you, a man whose easy warmth contrasted so painfully with Bruce’s own guarded nature. It stung to realize that, for all his power and reputation, he was losing you to his own friend. Dent looked at you with pride and affection, the kind that came naturally to him—and Bruce hated that Dent could offer you what he hadn’t even known you needed.
And then, through the murmur of the crowd, your voice rang out again—“Dad!”—directed at Dent, not him. Something twisted painfully in Bruce’s chest, his vision blurring as he watched you lean into Dent’s embrace, trusting and relaxed. The sight was a punch to his pride, yes, but more than that, it was a revelation of all he’d pushed away, all the moments he’d let slip by because he hadn’t wanted to be vulnerable.
For the first time, Bruce felt an unfamiliar desperation creep in, a fear he’d never faced even in the darkest moments of his life. Losing you to Dent seemed almost absurd, yet it was becoming a reality before his eyes. He was starting to see the damage his own indifference had caused, each unspoken word and dismissed gesture now cutting him deeper than he would ever admit aloud.
If only he’d turned around that first time you called him "Dada." If only he’d been there, shown you warmth instead of distance. Now someone else was in the place he’d abandoned, and he feared—truly feared—that you were already too far out of his reach to bring back.
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(A/n: feel free to use this idea to make a story! Though you needa tag me too😼)
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scorpiosbite ¡ 24 hours ago
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the first time drew saw actress!reader.
𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── when drew was forced by madelyn to come watch this new show with her and the rest of the cast he didn’t expect to have his heart captured by the mesmerising woman on the screen.
𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey
author’s note: this takes place in 2023 during the filming of obx 4 which is when game of thrones started airing in my timeline also actress!reader is anywhere between 19-22 years old.
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drew was sprawled across the couch in his hotel room, aimlessly scrolling. after a long day of filming under the hot and heavy sun of morocco, he had no intention of doing anything that required effort. his plan was to simply scroll until his eyes got heavy and he knocked out, but knowing his insomnia that wouldn’t be until the early hours of the morning.
glancing at the time displayed on his phone ten pm it read, he let out a heavy sigh, though his body ached with exhaustion, his mind would not shut off. but before he could put down his phone and try to force himself to sleep, a knock sounded on the door “yeah?”
“drew! its maddie.”
“maddie?” he spoke softly, what’s she doing up at this time. usually she was asleep the moment she got back to the hotel. “come in, its open.”
she came tumbling through the door, coming to a stop in front of the couch where he laid. drew couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched her. “what’s up?”
“drew! you gotta come watch this new show with us!” her hands were placed on her hips as she looked down at him.
drew sighed, a noise of exhaustion. “i can’t be fucked getting up, cline.” her face scrunched up, ready to dispute him.
“drew you have to! the last episode of season one just came out and i watched the first episode when it aired and it was so good that i stopped watching so that we could binge it all when the season finished!”
recognition sparked on his face. “wait is this game of thrones? i remember you saying how good the first episode was, like two months ago.”
madelyn’s face grew excited at the fact that he remembered. “yeah! please please, you have to come watch it, jd, bailey, chase, laci, rudy and austin are already in my room waiting.”
drew mulled over the idea for a moment. either he could rot in his room until his call time tomorrow or hang out with his friends and possibly watch a good show, if maddie’s high praise was anything to go by.
“yeah, alright let’s go.” he stood up from the couch, stretching his arms and grabbing his phone to follow maddie, who was already halfway out the door, unable to wait any longer.
when they arrived at her room, the first episode was already lined up on the screen, the hbo logo blaring in the dark room. drew greeted everyone and then took a seat on the spare love seat by the window. “you guys get forced too?” he questioned.
“yup.” jd breathed out. “nah i’ve been wanting to watch this, i remember hearing about it when they started filming, it’s supposed to be like super graphic and vulgar.” madison commented. “shit, really? i know nothing about this show, other than the fact that cline can’t shut up about it.” austin added. chuckles sounded across the room, and madelyn yelled from the kitchen where the popcorn she was making turned in the microwave. “y’all are about to thank me!”
drew simply sat in silence, with the amount maddie was praising this show, his skepticism grew, no way this show was that good. someone pressed play as soon as madelyn was seated, he didn’t see who. the intro song of the show blasted through the room and drew settled back into his seat.
“yo, pass me the popcorn?” chase rolled up the back and chucked it across the room from where he was sat, drew caught it with ease.
he couldn’t lie, the show was good, fifteen minutes in and he was hooked. and just when he thought that it couldn’t get better, you came on the screen.
“holy fuck who is that?” jd’s voice rang out, but drew felt as though his voice came from somewhere far away. he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. “she’s beautiful right?” madelyn sighed out. mummers of agreement sounded from the people sitting in the room. “her name’s y/n y/l/n.”
“y/n” drew repeated to himself softly, almost as he was testing the feel of your name in his mouth. rolling the syllables on his tongue, in that moment he decided that no other word would ever compare to the way your name felt on his lips.
dressed in a flowing dress with daring cuts exposing your seemingly soft skin, he wondered what would it feel like if he ran his palms along the smooth expansion. your hair sliver, long and loose to play visenya targaryen, the last targaryen, the daughter of rhaegar targaryen and elia martell. drew felt as though no one had ever looked more stunning in the history of the world.
“drew? you all good man?” someone asked, he didn’t know who, he couldn’t hear or think of anything beyond you and the performance you were giving. “i think starkey’s got a crush.” rudy sang out, and the rest laughed. but drew couldn’t care less, too busy watching you.
they watched two more episodes and as the third episode came to an end drew finally broke out of his trance. while the rest occasionally made comments during the show drew could not tear himself away from the screen, afraid that if he looked away he would miss you.
“i gotta hand it to you, cline, i’m hooked. that shit was amazing!” carlacia grinned. “i fucking told you guys!” she retorted back. “but aside from that, starkey? what did you think?” she smirked at him.
“yeah, that was good.” drew’s body tingling “that’s it? just good? you don’t wanna talk about the moon eyes you were making every time visenya came on screen?” drew cheeks tinged pink. “yeah, she’s pretty.” “aye, shot your shot man, she’s so fine.” madison teased.
as drew made his way back to his room he looked at the time, two am, damn he didn’t even realise time had passed that quick. sliding into his bed after taking a quick shower, he couldn’t help himself but run a quick search of you on google. “fuck.” the soft curse slipping from his lips, just when he thought you couldn’t get hotter, he saw pictures of you, not in costume, naturally a brunette, he was so fucked. fuck it, he quickly searched up your name on instagram.
you were laying in bed scrolling through instagram when a notification popped up.
drewstarkey started following you. follow back?
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first one, do you like it? if you do i’ll keep writing. reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated.
475 notes ¡ View notes
whorelaud ¡ 1 day ago
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꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 untouchable ¡
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pairing experiencedÂĄroommateÂĄrafe cameron x innocentÂĄreader
sunmary rafe guides you through your first masturbation after you told him you've never touched yourself before, his offer tempting you in ways you've never experienced before. your curiosity grows as well as your desire, leading to an intimate moment that changed things between you two.
contains smut! first time masturbating, guided orgasm, fingering, lots and lots of kissing, dirty talk, nipple play, needy reader, player rafe, hes a tease!! he also interrupts reader, uhh thats ab it (i think). wc; 4.2k
a/n hi !! this took two days to write and at least 1-2 months to get out of my notes blaahhh hope you enjoy!!!!
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“Have you ever had someone go down on you?” 
You choked out a snort of disblief, taken aback by the question. Rafe, who was seated inches away from you, chuckled, turning his head in your direction, causing the smile on your face to instantly vanish. 
He wasn’t joking. 
You cleared your throat, feeling heat crawl past your neck, until it eventually settled on your face. You’ve had your fair share of embrassing moments with your roommate, but this? You wanted the ground to split and swallow you whole, too ashamed to respond. 
Truth be told, you’ve never involved yourself in any sexual activities, let alone had someone go down on you. Hell, you’ve barely ever touched yourself before, brushing off your random bursts of arousal whenever you were sexually frustrated
So, the question here was, how were you supposed to tell him that? Reveal that you were a virgin at heart, and that you’ve never had someone touch you intimatly; not that you’ve done it. 
You were painfully aware of how experienced Rafe was, with the latter informing you all about his hookups; and that was besides the amount of girls he brought over. The walls were thin enough to give everything out, their loud moans and whimpers echoing through your ears. In conclusion, you didn’t need him to break down what he was up to. 
“Not that I remember.” You muttered, brushing off the question. 
“What?” He cocked his head to the side, snatching the spoonful of ice cream from your hold. “Who doesn’t remember getting eaten out?” 
“People are busy, Rafe.” You scoffed, licking the drop of ice cream off your thumb. “Not everyone has the time to fuck around.”
“You’re not busy,” he muffled out, tossing the spoon back in the tube of ice cream on your lap. “You don’t go out, all you do is lay around the whole day, then proceed to complain over the fact that you did nothing all day.”
You rolled your eyes, faking an annoyed expression at his words. Rafe adjusted his position, manspreading on the sofa, until his knee was hovering over yours, the contact ceasing the distance between you. 
“I mean, come one…” he trailed off, tone slightly teasing. “I’ve never seen you bring anyone over, are you really not interested in any of that stuff?” 
“How about you mind your business?” You huffed, feeling your ears burn with heat. “Why do you wanna know so bad?” 
“What?!” He defensively shot back, “I’m jus’ curious, besides, you never tell me anything, it’s always me talking.” 
“It’s ‘cause there’s nothing to tell you,” you mumbled under your breath, avoiding Rafe’s gaze. “There, you happy?”
Silence seeped through the air, atmosphere heavy with tension. Rafe‘s lips parted with disbelief, speechles by your blunt response. That was… new, you never brought up your sexual life to the latter before, so to think you were admitting to being a virgin over a silly argument struck Rafe to his core. 
"You're not like, serious or anything, right?” He attempted to laugh it off, smile fading when your expression remained the same. “Shit, you’re being serious.”
Your gaze settled on your hands in your lap, too embarrassed to glance over at Rafe, whose eyes burned holes through your flesh. You could envision the look of disbelief on his face, not having to look to know that he was shocked. 
“Why are you surprised?” You giggled, brushing off the heavy tension seeping through. “You said it yourself, i’ve never really brought anyone over.” 
“I was messing,” he swiftly replied, “I didn’t think you were you know… a virgin.”
“Okay, if you word it like that…” You tilted your head to the side, a tight-lipped smile spreading across your lips. 
“Have you never like, engaged in anything?” Rafe muttered, trying to play off the question as something casual, though you knew it wasn’t. “You know, never gave a guy a blowjob before?” 
Nothing about your roommate asking if you’ve given a guy a blowjob was casual. 
“No.” You shook your head, a snort escaping your throat. 
“You’ve kissed someone before though, right?” He asked, voice lowering with hesitation. 
“I’ve kissed someone before.” You exclaimed, leaning your head back on the sofa. “You already knew about that.” 
“You did tell me,” he nodded his head, “Have you never like…”
“What is it now, Rafe?” You question, teasing hinted through your tone. “Why are you investigating me?”
“‘M not; jus’ curious.” He muffled out, voice barely above a whisper. “Have you never pleased yourself?”
“What?” You ask, coming to a halt. 
The question filled with temptation, something you both chose to avoid for the sake of your friendship. Rafe always playfully flirts with you, using every chance he could to tease you. Those usually end in you brushing it off, not thinking too much of it. 
However, this was personal. He was asking questions that shall be private, not for him to hear, nor know about.  
“Have you never touched yourself before?” He elaborated, gaze flickering to your lap. “You’ve touched yourself, right?” 
You remained silent, blinking far too many times for your liking. You fidgeted with the rings hugging your fingers, busying yourself with the movie displayed on the tv, now long forgotten with the ongoing conversation. 
“Fuck.” Rafe muttered under his breath, throat going dry. “That’s so…” 
“Embrassing,” you cut him off, playing off your embarrassment. “I know.” 
“It’s hot; somehow turns me on,” he corrected, continuing his statement. “Knowing you’ve never touched yourself before.” 
Your head shifted in his direction, a flustered expression spreading across your face as you felt heat settle on your cheeks. You swallowed around your throat, mouth gaping to speak, met with utter silence in return. 
Shivers ran down your spine, the sensation like feathers on your skin. Rafe’s blank expression made things worse, displaying how serious he was being. He wasn’t fucking around, even with how swift the conversation took a turn. 
“Shut up,” you mumbled, clearing your throat. “Quit messin’ around.” 
“Did that get you?” Rafe choked out a giggle, easing the tension between you. 
“That wasn’t funny!” You huffed, lightly shoving his shoulder. “Don’t joke around like that.”
“I mean,” he said, teasingly fidgeting with his tongue. “It wasn’t a joke, but–”
“Rafe!” Your face heat up, flustered expression spreading across your face. 
“Sorry!” He chuckled, drifting off for a moment. His gaze trailed down your body, a sly smirk finding his lips once again. “You need help? I’ll guide you through it.” 
You paused, considering his suggestion for a moment, even if he meant it as a joke. Your lips quivered into a thin line, feeling your throat dry up when his hand found your bare thigh, action teasing, tempting you in ways that were forbidden. 
And before you got time to process the gesture, he grabbed the ice cream tube from your lap, instantly scooping a bite with the spoon inside. It took you a moment to catch on with what he did, attempting (and failing) to snatch it back from his hold. 
“Hey, that’s mine.” You muttered, gaze shifting up to Rafe when he stood to his feet. 
“What’s mind is yours, remember?” He winked, walking backwards to maintain eye contact with you. “We both pay the bills around here.” 
“I paid for that, though.” You argued, mimicking the latter’s action as you followed in his steps. 
“From whose wallet?” He reasoned, causing you to go quiet. 
Right, you did steal ten bucks to buy that from him; though the boy didn’t mind. 
Your shoulder relaxed, defeated by the boy’s response as you watched him enter his room, letting the door shut behind him. 
That was that.
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Later that night, you found yourself slipping under your convers, tempted by Rafe’s words from earlier. Your hands traced down your body, halting around the sliver of skin in between your shirt and shorts. 
Your fingers toyed with the waistband of your shorts, teeth digging through your bottom lip as your hand tumbled beneath the thin cloth, the sensation of your cold fingers brushing over your heat sending shivers throughout your body. 
Your digits lightly traced over your heat, sliding down your folds, inaudible gasp escaping your throat when you noticed how wet you’ve gotten from earlier. Rafe’s words echoed through your ears as your eyes fell shut, imagining him guiding you through your masturbation with his words, the thought spiraling pleasure through your body.
You collected your juices with your fingers, gasping as you traced them back to your clit, the sensation overwhelming you whole. You started off with slow rubs to your cunt, letting your pleasure build up within every touch you committed to. 
You imagined Rafe’s hand instead of yours, rubbing your clit while he whispered praises to your ears. The thought washed guilt over you, aware you were going to regret your pathetic thoughts once the pleasure wears off. 
Imagining your roommate going down on you was your last predicament tonight, yet, here you were, touching yourself while pretending it was Rafe, his words never leaving your mind. You would’ve been down for whatever, the least he could’ve done was push through with his teasing, and you would’ve gladly accepted it. 
But he didn’t, and that made you want him even more. The idea of not being able to have him, not even for a moment, because it was forbidden. You were well aware of that, barely holding back before, whether Rafe stood too close, or said something tempting. 
“Hey, uh, have you seen my green–” Rafe burst through the door, freezing in his tracks once he noticed the state you were in. “Sweatshirt?” 
The covers weren’t much of help, as Rafe instantly realized what you were doing. He gulped, feeling himself twitch in his pants, as his fingers clutched around the doorknob. You immediately jumped out of your position once you spotted him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 
Your eyes trailed down to his torso, feeling heat crawl to your face when you noticed his bare chest, out on display. Right, that was a norm, you should’ve been used to it by now.
“What the fuck, dude?” You shot back, heavy breaths escaping your throat. “Can’t you knock?”
“Hmm?” He hummed, too hazed up to process what you were saying. “Right, sorry, I– I should’ve knocked.”
You felt so exposed under his gaze, tugging your bottom lip with guilt as you caught sight of his face. Maybe that was meant to happen, a sign that you shouldn’t have crossed the invisble line you created, pleasing yourself over the thought of your best friend. 
“What do you need?” You muffled out, gulping when his eyes flickered down to your lips. 
“Well, I was jus’ asking if you’ve seen my sweatshirt, but…” He trailed off, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “You seem busy.” 
“I was sleeping.” You replied, though the excuse was not much help. “You– you interrupted.”
“Clearly,” He cocked his head to the side, seeking your gaze with his own, a desperate exhale escaping his parted lips when your eyes wouldn’t meet his. “I’ll leave you to it, then…”
He trailed off, hinting something with his tone. He hesitated to leave, still clutching into the door handle while he stared at you, waiting for you to at least say something, stop him before he does anything stupid and ruin your friendship in the process. 
However, you didn’t, leading the latter to shut the door, the gesture causing you to wince. You gulped, observing as Rafe came to a halt, his back to the door, with his hand yet wrapped around the doorknob. His lips parted with an exhale, fingers finding his jaw as he busied himself with his chin. 
And if you didn’t know him any better, you would’ve thought he was nervous. But he wasn't. You knew Rafe, he was your roommate, after all. 
“What are you doing?” You questioned, voice low enough he could barely hear you. 
Rafe remained silent, leisurely approaching you with haste. Your gaze followed his every move as he came to a halt around the edge of the bed, now towering over you. You fluttered your eyes up at the latter, breath hitching when you noticed the look of despair on his face. 
His fingers hovered beneath your chin, thumb slightly tracing your bottom lip, the fraction causing your mouth to part. He tilted your head with the fingers around your jaw, cursing under his breath once he caught sight of your hazed state, too far gone to comprehend your surroundings. 
“You need help with that?” He questioned, gaze flickering to the shorts that hung low on your waist, able to see them now that he was in your presence. 
“Huh?” You questioned, vision going blurry when his thumb grazed over your teeth. “What do you mean?”
He groaned when your tongue darted out, licking a stripe of his finger, the gesture bold, encouraging him to continue. And he did, inserting his thumb inside your mouth, the sensation of your hot spit coating his finger earning a shuddered exhale out of the boy. 
You swirled your tongue around the digit, driving Rafe over the edge. He imagined your lips wrapped around his cock instead of his finger, the dirty thought causing him to twitch in his pants, fully hard hard by now. 
“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered, withdrawing his finger from in between your lips, and replaced it with his own as he captured your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. “Can’t believe you’ve never let anyone touch you before.” 
“Is it that hard to believe?” You hushed, lowering your tone to match his. “Are you gonna tease me over it?”
“While that does sound tempting right now,” he smiled over your mouth, littering wet kisses in between his sentence. “I’ll pass, ‘rather focus on you, doll.”
Your face heat up at the pet name, too flustered to respond. You were still in disbelief over this, whatever it was, not expecting anything like this to happen between you two. Fuck, Rafe was kissing you, and you were totally in for it, in fact, your body was speaking faster than your mind, following your needs before you could process it. 
“I’ll guide you through your first time, baby.” He muttered under his breath, knee finding the space in between your legs. He captured the corner of your lips in an open-mouthed kiss, one of his hands toying with the strap of your bra. “Let me make you feel good.” 
“You know,” you trailed off, enjoying the sensation of his fingers tracing the bare skin around your shoulders, the contact like feathers to your flesh. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” 
“Why not?” He asked, hands shifting down to your waist, barely above the hem of your top. “It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong, ‘m only helpin’ you.”
“Jus’ shut up n’ kiss me.” You slurred, wrapping both arms around his neck as you ceased the distance between you. 
A content hum left Rafe’s throat, pressing you down to the bed with the hands around your waist. The latter hovered over you, angling his head to the side to deepen the kiss. A gasp escaped your throat as he nibbled on your bottom lip, the unexpected gesture causing you to part your mouth. 
Rafe saw a chance, and took it, tongue invading the inside of your mouth with the access you granted him, your fingers toyed with the bozzed hair at the back of his head, almost yelping when his cold fingers made contact with the sliver of skin around your stomach. 
You’ve never been touched by a man like this before, Rafe was exploring parts in your body that were meant to be hidden, not for his gaze to admire. Multiple times he had to hold back, watching you innocently walk around the house with a set of pajamas that barely covered anything, revealing all your curves. 
You drove him crazy, with everytime you moved, slightly teased him, told him things no one should know, he wasn’t able to handle it, not with how oblivious you were to the hints he kept dropping. And if he rubbed one out to the thought of you, he wasn’t mentioning it; not to you, that’s for sure.
His fingers toyed with the waistband of your shorts, withdrawing from the kiss to glance down, making you feel shy under his gaze. He tugged the elastic down your side, hissing when his fingers made contact with the warm skin hidden underneath. 
“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, “Get these off, need to see you s’ bad.” 
You moaned at the remark, letting your eyes fall shut as he tugged your shorts down, levelling them with your knees, until he could get a good view of your dripping cunt. A shuddered sigh escaped his lips, fingers instantly finding your folds. 
You gasped at the sensation, arching into the touch, chasing after your pleasure when he moved his hand up your sides, pressing your hips down to the bed. 
“Stay,” He whispered, lips ghosting over yours. “I’m supposed to be helpin’ you, ‘member?”
Right, that skipped over your head. 
“Well then, hurry up and do it.” You whined, almost yelping when his hand hovered over your heat. “Fuck, Rafe, please.”
“Please what?” He question, a teasing grin forming on his lips. “Use your words, baby.” 
“Touch me.” You demanded, words slurring out of your mouth. 
“You know I can’t do that.” He chuckled, retrieving one of your hands from around his neck. “S’ supposed to be your job.”
He guided your hand down to your heat, pressing your fingers to your clit. You moaned, leaning your head back as Rafe moved your digits over your cunt, using his hand to lead you through the rhythm, slow and steady, not too much, in case you grew sensitive to it. 
You desperately shuddered under the touch, gasping when Rafe pressed his hand over yours, the gesture spiraling pleasure throughout your body. His face nuzzled into your neck, littering wet kisses to your throat as he continued pleasing you with his guided hand, leisurenly picking up his (your) pace. 
“Fuck,” you whined, nails digging into the blade of his shoulder, well aware he was waking up with bruises with how much pressure you were applying. “Feels s’ good.” 
“Yeah?” He muffled against your neck, teeth grazing over flesh, before he nibbled right under your jaw. “Am I making you feel good, baby?”
You hummed, too accompanied with your pleasure to respond. You arched into the touch, muffled whines the only thing leaving your throat as Rafe’s fingers traced over your folds, until they found your entrance. 
“Fucking hell,” he grunted, withdrawing from the crook of your neck. “You’re so wet for me, doll.”
Your face heat up at the words, turning your head to the side to avoid looking at the latter. One of his hands slid underneath your shirt, kneading your boob with his fingers. Everything felt overwhelming, whether it was the hand guiding your fingers on your clit, or the one squeezing your breasts, it was too much for you to comprehend with a hazy mind and a blurry vision. 
He managed to get your shirt off with a bit of shuffling, and a bit of help from you; of course, leaving you in only your bra. His mouth salivated at the sight of your breasts, now half on display, only for him to see. 
He swallowed around his throat, fingers toying with the thin material of your bra, using the digits to tug it down, until it exposed your nipple to the chilly air, causing goosebumps to break out across your chest. He rolled it with his thumb, fascinated with how perfectly your boobs sat. 
You jolted under his touch, becoming sensitive to the finger flicking your nipple, growing even more surprised when he leaned down, taking your tit in his mouth. His tongue swirled over your now hardened nipple, letting his spit coat a stripe of your chest. 
Your back arched into Rafe’smouth, eyes forcing shut as his hand found your back, unclipping your bra with a swift gesture. He let the cloth hang loose around your chest, finger dipping beneath the straps around your shoulders, letting them fall down your sides. 
“God,” he grunted, his hot breath fanning over your boob, while his hand toyed with the other, squeezing and kneading the plump flesh. “You’re a fucking mess for me.”
You whined in protest to his words, feeling your pleasure build up, sensing your climax in the process. Rafe’s mouth found your lips once again, capturing them in a lustful kiss. He licked into your mouth, tongue gliding over yours as it met his half way through. 
“I think I’m…” you spoke in between kisses, “Rafe– fuck!”
An audible gasp escaped your throat when Rafe circled your entrance, lining his finger up with your hole. And without a warning, he slipped a finger inside, the new found pleasure mixed with pain alluring you into his trap. 
This was exactly what he wanted, to have you a flustered mess under his touch, show you how good he could make you feel, even if it was wrong, forbidden; in your words.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, parted lips ghosting over yours. “Wanna fuck you so bad, doll.” 
You whined over the statement, picturing the idea of Rafe fucking you stupid, until you no longer were able to remember your name. His finger moved inside you, letting you get used to the digit moving in and out of you. Your hand was back to your side by now, letting Rafe lead you through your built orgasm. 
The latter lined another finger with your hole, slowly letting it insert inside you, using his thumb to rub your clit, merely to distract your mind off the pain, and focus on pleasing you. His pace was slow, steady enough it drove you crazy. 
His fingers continued pumping in and out of you, with you relaxing into the touch once you slightly got used to the digits stretching you out. Rafe picked up his speed when he noticed that, hand growing sloppy inside your dripping hole. 
“Rafe–” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m so fuckin’ close.”
He hummed, littering open-mouthed kissed to your lips as you gasped into his mouth when his fingers hit your g stop. And you were so closer, with his fingers inserting in and out of you, while his thumb rubbed your clit, chasing after your pleasure. 
Your legs trembled as you came undone, shuddering in Rafe’s arms as he walked you through your orgasm. He slowed down his pace, chuckling as a content hum escaped your throat, pulling him down for a quick kiss.
It was sweet, lingering for only a moment before Rafe pulled away, smug smile ghosting over your lips. He withdrew his fingers from your entrance, with you already missing the warmth of his fingers inside. 
He traced his hand over your figure, coming to a halt when he reached your mouth. He parted your lips with his fingers, a silent demand that you shall not deny. You took the digits in your mouth, gliding your tongue over each one, tasting yourself on them. 
Rafe smirked, watching you with despair, a look of want you only got to experience whenever he was hitting on other girls. Yet, here he was, fucking you with his fingers until you came undone. 
He withdrew his fingers, replacing it with his own mouth as he pulled you in for another kiss, this time to taste you on his lips. He smiled against you, satisfied now that he’s able to savor you whole, having explored every inch of your body; though he knew that wasn’t enough. 
“That felt good,” he started, rubbing his thumb over the corner of your face. “Yeah?”
“Mhm, I must say…” you trailed off, slightly growing flustered by his gaze as it burned holes through your skin. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“You think?” He snickered, thumb brushing over your lips. “Should we give it another go, now that you lost your jerk-off virginity?”
“That’s lame,” You chuckled, a knowing smile suppressing its way across your lips. “Hmm, who knows, maybe that’s not the only virginity I’ll be losing tonight.”
“Okay, that’s a lame way of telling me you want me to take your virginity.” He grinned, amused by the embarrassed shove you gave to his shoulder. 
“My god, shut up!” You blushed, hiding your face with your hands. “That’s not what I was sayin’.”
“No yeah, definitely.” He nodded, attempting to get your hands off your face. “Don’t be a brat, baby, look at me.” 
Your hold fell loose around your face, letting Rafe move your hands off, revealing the smile tugging at your lips. He mimicked your action, expression switching into something serious, all while maintaining a teasing grin still. 
“You know, that wasn’t such a bad idea.” He pecked the corner of your lips, leisurely trailing down to your throat, until he nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “Maybe we should test it out.” 
“Test what out, idiot?” You grinned, tilting your head to give Rafe more access to the side of your neck. 
“Lots of stuff,” he muffled, “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back, now that I got a taste of you.” 
“So, don’t.” You shot back, mouth moving faster than your brain as you responded. “Don’t hold yourself back, ‘m all yours.”
And that was the only sign Rafe needed, ceasing the distance between you before capturing your lips in a kiss, one you don’t think you’ll be able to forget.
492 notes ¡ View notes
lnfours ¡ 2 days ago
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Hi!!!
“Are you wearing my sweater?” Prompt 🥹 NEED this kind of fluff in my life. Like Lando stops by readers house to see her and she answers the door wearing his hoodie 😭ugh I can’t it’s making me MELT
anon, i don't think you understand when i say that i'm obsessed with this!!
jordan's birthday sleepover!
ever since you lando had started dating, you made it a routine that every thursday night was date night. even when he was in a different country, the two of you managed to watch a movie together while on facetime.
tonight was like every other thursday night, it was date night. your living room was set up, drinks and the snacks you had picked up at the grocery store sitting on the coffee table with a candle lit in the middle.
a knock on the door made you smile, running over to open the door. when you did, you were met with floppy brown curls and gorgeous eyes, a takeout bag in his hand as he smiled at you.
"hi," his smile was so contagious, making you smile back so wide you were sure your cheeks were going to hurt if you kept smiling.
"hi," you said, stepping aside to let him inside. he placed a kiss on your lips as he entered, the hand that wasn't holding the bag of food resting on your hip.
"are you wearing my sweater?"
you looked down, the black material wrapped around your frame. it was a tad too big, the hem of the hoodie falling at your mid-thigh and almost passing the hem of your shorts. a mclaren logo sat on the upper right side of your chest.
you shrugged, smiling as you looked back up at him, "huh, i guess so,"
"i was wondering where that went," he said, the both of you moving from the entry way and into the living room, "as long as it's in good hands that's all i care about."
"well, you're the one who left it here. what else was i supposed to do with it?" you teased.
he shook his head, laughing softly before continuing, "you look good in my clothes."
"you think?"
he nodded, "defintely. maybe next time you're over you could raid my closet."
it was true, seeing you in his clothes did something for him. made him feel a whole new level of love for you that he didn't think was possible. and if it meant you stealing every single hoodie and every single t-shirt, then so be it.
546 notes ¡ View notes
crescenthistory ¡ 3 days ago
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Where Padfoot Lays His Head
Summary: Inspired by @thewriterghost's reblog of my last animagus!reader fic, this is just a sweet drabble of Whiskers comforting Padfoot:,)
Words: 1.7k
Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, your marauders/animagus name is whiskers, walburga black, black family dynamics and trauma, vaguely implied abuse, sirius spiraling into self-loathing, platonic physical affection, romantic!regulus x reader but platonic!sirius x reader is the main focus, background platonic!moonwater
Note: this is based on the same reader from Feline Touches, Sweet Like Honey and Padfoot vs. Whiskers, sirius' beloved almost-sister-in-law that he has frequent (loving) sibling squabbles with
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Sirius pretended he didn’t feel the humiliation burning through his veins from his friends’ worrying looks.
Stop looking at me, stop caring so sodding much.
His internal begging was all for naught; this was apparently what he signed up for when he strolled into the train compartment that housed the largest smile Hogwarts had ever seen and his pack of make-shift slightly-fucked-up-but-lovable friends.
Most days, Sirius was grateful to the bone for the family he had been able to assemble at Hogwarts, stretching from his boyfriend to his boyfriend’s childhood best friend to his biological brother and the boys that became his brothers. However, on days that Walburga Black, the hag to end all hags, sends him a Howler berating him for leaving home over the summer, few sentiments besides anger, self-loathing and isolation remained in the young boy’s body.
When he eventually stops reeling and wallowing, all this attention would make him feel warm once more, especially when he sees they didn’t stop showering him in it even as he retreated perhaps a bit rudely from it. Right now, though, it just kept the wound open and Sirius was sure the infection would kill him this time around.
He was sure of that every time.
It became evident quickly that he would not be able to get away from his friends. James was practically glued to his side from the moment he left the Great Hall after Walburga ruined everyone’s lunch. His brown eyes were so wide beneath his glasses and Sirius was sure he could almost see tears in them as he swung his arm around Sirius’ shoulders and kept telling jokes like his life depended on it. Remus was not much better. He had learned by now not to soften his touches when Sirius was in these moods – on the contrary, harsh, direct touches helped ground him – but his hands rarely left his being, as if he would fall apart without him. Even Lily tuned down her playful banter with him, swapping it for concerned questions and checking in on him throughout the day. Sirius loved them all, but he hated it.
Even Regulus showed him more compassion than normal, though he didn’t say much. His entire being seemed to radiate I get you, I understand more than anyone, because frankly he did. Even as hearing Walburga’s voice must have rattled Regulus too, he didn’t show it, instead holding space for Sirius, carrying what was supposed to be his burden.
Humiliating. 
All of which to say, Sirius did what Sirius does best; he ran from them all, in the one form none of them would be able to hold a conversation with him in.
Padfoot had turned out to be a blessing that way. Sirius picked up on it from you, who only ever was in your animagus form when you felt particularly well or horrifically poorly. Difficult to ask how a dog is feeling, yeah? 
He laid in front of the common room fireplace, stretched out in a position that showed he was ready to pounce should anyone try to pet him. Around him, his friends were cuddled up on the sofas and armchairs, chattering lowly amongst themselves and playing the occasional game of wizarding chess. Padfoot had his head placed on his front paws as his gaze flickered all over the room, unable to settle. His nerves always seemed to transform with him, manifesting as the most anxious dog Gryffindor had seen.
Their stares were still on him, penetrating and with downturned frowns over their faces. Stop it, stop it, stop it. He couldn’t string too long sentences together in his dog brain – part of its fantastic appeal right now – but that sentiment remained steadfast.
You were sat in Regulus’ lap opposite the fireplace, murmuring something in his ear as you both intermittently looked at Padfoot. Your hands were playing with his hair, lips almost grazing his skin as you talked, even pressing the occasional kiss to his cheek, his jaw, his ear. Love. Padfoot loved love and he loved his little brother getting to experience it so wholly, even as he laid here, destroying the moment with the same misery that hunted any children raised by the Black family. He felt as if he was sucking the joy out of the room with his wallowing, yet he couldn’t stop himself.
Padfoot couldn’t help the low whine that escaped him at the darkness swirling around inside him. Upon fearing having to meet the gazes of anyone who caught the noise and see the goddamn sympathy and pity in them, he brought his paws up to cover his eyes, pathetically hiding within himself.
Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad.
In his internal chanting, he didn’t notice when the chatter died down a bit, nor did he see the glances exchanged. He felt the footsteps reverberating through the floorboards, suggesting somebody was walking away, but he didn’t register its true implications. Leave, was all he could think. Good, leave. Go.
What he did notice to its fullest extent was when a few moments later, soft fur collided with his own as something was rubbing against him.
A bit too quickly, almost too violently, Padfoot’s head snapped up from beneath his paws to see what this intrusion was – only to come face to face with a white-and-grey cat, blinking slowly at him. His mouth fell slightly open, and he thought a complaining bark may be on its way out, but then you – Whiskers – butted your head against the side of his neck, caressing him with your feline body.
The adventures of Whiskers and Padfoot were a running joke, especially one Remus and Regulus loved to team up to tell. Whether it was chasing each other around, hunting rats – preferably Wormtail, but any would do – and mice or playing with the house elves, you two loved to conduct mischief together in the one form you could never be properly caught in. There had been the occasion where you cuddle or pet one another, but it was rare and usually unspoken, attachment growing deeper and softer without either properly addressing it. 
So, this was not necessarily out of left field, but it surprised him nonetheless. He couldn’t say it wasn’t quite welcome, though.
You had started purring as you walked up and down his body where he was laid in front of the fire, soaking up the warmth he was bathed in and oddly calming the vibrating nerves within his own body. Whenever you reached his head, you bumped your snout against his, rubbing the space between your ears all over his face.
Cats are weird, Padfoot thought. Like it.
Mere minutes ago Sirius had been surveying his friends and his effect on them intently, digging himself deeper into his self-inflicted hole. Now, his attention was captured by the much smaller animal beside him, and he didn’t see how most conversation had stopped to witness the interaction. Lily and James looked at them in almost shocked awe, both having been snapped at and ran away from when they attempted to pet Padfoot themselves. Regulus and Remus, however, sat there with soft, knowing smiles – seeing the girl they loved most go for it with no fear and comforting their favourite dog. Remus would deny it to anyone who asked, but there were tears in his eyes.
The next time Whiskers came up beside his face, you stayed there, leaning yours against his. You laid your body down over the paws Padfoot had previously rested his own head on and made yourself comfortable in a position no one but a cat could possibly conjure up. From there, you began cleaning his fur like you were his personally-assigned cat mother, licking the strands in their correct direction. When his face was too far away, you lightly brought your paw up to his snout to bring him further towards you.
Despite being placed in front of a fire, warmth didn’t truly spread through Sirius before now. When he brought his head down, he laid it on top of you and let it rest there across your midsection, careful not to hurt you, as your upper body curled around his head. You continued cleaning up his fur as you purred loudly, easing the tension from Padfoot’s poor body.
A cuddle only animals could come up with, an embrace Sirius would deny anyone today, yet like this, it just worked.
When his eyes became heavy, Sirius let them fall. You continued your ministrations without hesitation, carefully and slowly tending to Sirius face, only stopping occasionally to nuzzle your forehead further into his fur and purr even louder. 
He didn’t quite fall asleep, he rarely did as Padfoot, too alert and awake in this form, but he let himself fall into a place of tranquillity. Walburga’s harsh words seemed almost funny in their anger now, and Sirius’ own spiral was becoming a thing of the past. 
Would he still be red-cheeked tomorrow and avoid his friends’ eyes for the first half of the day? Perhaps, but they would reel him into their arms and hearts regardless. Would he sputter and fall back into his evil cycle of thoughts if anyone brought this specific moment up? Without a doubt, but that’s why they would not, at least not before he settled. 
Padfoot was suddenly safe in the Gryffindor common room. He was safe with this warm weight over his paws and beneath his head, he was safe with love being quite literally carded into every strand of fur on his body. He was safe with the hearth behind him and his pack in front of him, quiet voices further lolling him further into a state of peace.
Padfoot was safe – maybe even loved.
Across the room, Remus and Regulus had gravitated further towards one another, as theirs were the only eyes who never left the scene of cat-dog-solidarity displayed before them. 
Regulus bumped into Remus’ arm with his elbow and whispered, “He doesn’t like cats, he says?” with a knowing smirk.
The other boy huffed a laugh at that, lips remaining softly upturned. “I believe he has an exception or two to that rule.”
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multipleoccupancy ¡ 2 days ago
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"Yeah, we make a really great team," Theo agreed again and smiled at her but there was something in the way she spoke, just a little hint in her tone that something was wrong. His shoulders dropped a little from his excitement as he looked at her, properly. He gave over his hand hesitantly, the rules of the ward still very much ingrained in him but the comfort was nice and he was not about to refuse it while she spoke about his parents.
"'Course they will," he hummed and watched her carefully. "And your Mom and Dad too, I'm sure they'll be really glad to have you back. We've got to stay in touch!" He insisted and looked around the mostly clean room for a crayon or piece of paper to put his address down for her. "And when you get back home you have to send me a letter, ok? So I know you're safe," there was nothing suitable in the room but he thought they had time for him to just write down his address, she was supposed to be coming with him and his family, right?
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He noticed she had not accepted his offer of staying with them and he turned away. Unsure what to make of it, did she understand that he lived in a trailer and that was a problem? Or did she, as he was starting to realise more and more, believe that she was not going to get out of the ward. "Mauve?" He asked as he slowly brought his attention back to her, "You're starting to make this sound like it's a goodbye?"
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
"Damn right we'll be the best," she chuckled, "we killed that monster like it was nothin', even the inspector was impressed." Never mind that they had both gotten bitten and were in a sorry state. The key to a good monster story was to make it sound cool, no matter what. "He couldn't believe it, that we killed that big monster with just a kitchen knife and a pizza cutter!"
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She smiled and took his hand, not really caring about the ward's rules anymore -they were in a closed cell anyway, so no orderly could see that she was breaking the rules. "I'm sure they know you're innocent. But they probably couldn't do anythin' to get you out, if a policeman sent you here. I bet they'll be mighty happy that you're goin' home."
A few tears rolled down her cheeks. Violet knew that they would never let her leave the wards with people who weren't her parents, as her dad had pointed out to her after learning of their escape plan. But she didn't have the heart to say that to Theo, not when he was being so nice. "Thank you, that's real sweet of you to offer," she said instead.
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