#like i could be having the shittiest day
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Top 5 Baby-est Tumbles, please?
THE BABY BOYS I HAVE MANY THANK YOU FOR ASKING BESTIE
joe atkin tumble:
marc ellis holland tumble:
kolton krouse tumble (aka the tumble i had as my pfp for the longest time before i made my tumbletta edit)
mukeni nel tumble:
ton voogt and sammy fossum get honorable mentions:
and ofc the most baby of all the tumbles:
KADE KADE KADE KADE KADE
#KADE MY LOVE MY LIFE#his tumble is everything to me#like i could be having the shittiest day#but then i look at kade!tumble#and i'm just <33333333333#his tumble is the MOST canon tumble#his is the only tumble i ever imagine when i'm writing about him#cats the musical#tumblebrutus
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imagining this very funny totally amusing bit where dust (despite having a lot of pockets) makes horror carry a lighter for him (only because he can't be bothered to remember to bring one on him all the time) and horror keeps it in his head
but horror's a dick so everytime dust wants to smoke and he needs a light horror's always like "whats the password :3" (he actually said the emoticon i was the quotation marks) and dust has to guess. because horror changes it every time. and its never something predictable. and then he either just totally gives up on that cig or he has to forcefully dig into horror's head to get the lighter because horror's being a PRICK
now dust is shoulder deep into horror's eyesocket while horror is clawing and screaming and killer's just standing there behind them watching this unfold with that fuckass smile on his face (he can't get this type of entertainment anywhere else)
#bonus: this means that horror could theoretically breathe fire#like the world's shittiest magician!!!! he would need a shitton of fuel tho to get a big flame#peak mtt interactions i believe. knowledge of canon is only to make more ridiculous scenarios realistic#killer worlds best bystander to dust and horror's bullshit. he sees something he says NOTHING#erm well technically! the eye goop would get in the way of his vision so he actually doesn't see anything either! alright wrap it up pal#i COULD make this into a comic but i simply have larger priorities rn i cant (tweaking out over hw still)#horror if you were just less of a bitch maybe you wouldnt be in this situation#but it's the matter of the principle he says. dust has to guess the password he says. well who's complaining when dust is in your skull huh#this too counts as horrordust beefing. because you'd think that horror would just give the lighter to dust#but unfortunately this was posted by me (triglycercule) and i will have no such thing as bear horror on this account#dust would wear cargo shorts he would wear a cargo vest he'd have a belt with pockets he'd have secret shoe pockets he IS a pocket#why wouldnt dust just keep the lighter on him!!! CMON he's mellowed out since his dusttale days!! the human is dead so now he can be lazier#not lazy enough that he can couch rot for 3 weeks straight (he needs to stay SOMEWHAT active (force of habit))#but lazy enough where if he has a living purse then he will use said purse for its pursing purpose#horror's head doesnt even have enough space for dust to fit his arm in wtf. improper use of eye socket ahh 😭😭#tricule rant#killer sans#dust sans#horror sans#murder time trio#utmv#sans au#THEYRE SO SILLY MTT MY SILLY GOOFS!!!! a rare moment where they beef but it has nothing to do with their lore/backstories
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IRL photos jumpscare
#Seven’s Selfies#my face#well not really but. my eyes and forehead at least#parting my hair down the middle is nice until i realize that it frames my forehead like that#u could advertise smthn on that thing#anyways it feels like it’s been forever since i last posted any pics of myself on here. because it has#so why not post some low-quality and low-effort selfies of my exhausted self after getting home from urgent care the other day!!!#ignore the way i’m strategically posed to hide the cleaning products on the floor in the corner. i am too lazy to move them#so i shall hide them with my hips#these r the shittiest selfies i have ever posted but this is my blog this is my HOUSE i can do what i want#u can tell that i dressed for comfort cause i am not looking very put together here am i#it was a palazzo pants gymshark crop top and oversized hand-me-down flannel kinda day okay#and yes those r the moon print pants and pointy-toe boots that MC wears in ch.1-5 of Everything Stays. i wear them embarrassingly often#cause they’re comfy and i like the way they look
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youtube
#probably sounds stupid but i was having the shittiest day#and i was just not having it#i was just looking through youtube after having 4 separate mental breakdowns#i found this and i swear to god#i was in pain and ready to do something that could really fuck up my life#but this just stopped it#like any thought i had of doing some stupid shit just left me#i still feel like major shit but i feel a lot less impulsive now#like i said#it sounds really stupid#but this helped#Youtube
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Ohh 49 for the ask perhaps
49. Tell us a story about your childhood. Oh! Hmmm, I wonder if I have any interesting ones. When I was about 8 or 9? I think I was still in primary school. But when I was quite young, I remember there was this time when I was just having a horrible, horrrrible day. I can't remember details, but it was one of those days where it seemed like everything was just being stacked on top of everything. Like, moments that make you go, "Really, this as well?" In any case. The straw that broke the camel's back for me that day was when I was returning from school, slipped (it had rained earlier) and fell down some stairs. I didn't fall hard or get hurt beyond scraping my palms and bruising a knee, but I just started sobbing because that was my "Really, this, too?!" moment fshdhfdfjks
Anyway. I remember an auntie, like, I think she might have been in her 30s was just passing by. And I was mortified because I hate(d) others seeing me cry :') and it was such a stupid thing to cry about, but she was sooo so so kind, like, she went out of her way to help me up, to ask me if I was okay, if I needed to borrow her umbrella, if I needed a tissue, if I lived close or if she should walk me home etc etc. And I thanked her profusely and said I'd manage, but I still remember her and every once in a while I'll remember that, and think to myself "I hope she's having the most carefree life, I hope nothing ever goes wrong for her." because honestly. !!!!!! Possibly my fave memory, I think.
#i like remembering it bc it reminds me that i can be having the shittiest day ever but there's always gonna be people willing to help#like she didn't have to help me#maybe she felt like she had to bc i was a Tiny Child#but she really could have just helped me up and went on her way#she offered me everything from a tissue to walking me home even tho we were going in opposite directions#and honestly. i love her for it still. i hope the kindness returned to her tenfold#ask games
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#its valentines day (yesterday but i havent gone to bed yet so its the same day) so im gonna talk about my crush#i figured out its really a crush because if it was just hyperfixation it wouldve been done by now#but its been months and i still really like her so its real#anyway. we became friends during one of the shittiest weeks of my life#in a time when everything was difficult and i felt so out of my element and inadequate and altogether bad. she was kind to me#she approached me. made conversation. several times. was the friendliest any stranger has ever been#at the end of the week i asked for her number to keeo in touch. and she gave it to me. and texted#i figured the friendship might fizzle out. but she kept texting. we kept talking. she talked about her problems and her happiest moments#shes trans and like me got put into the 'only out trans person for queer kids to look up to' slot at our summer camp jobs#she once texted me at 4am about horror movies and we ended up texting until 8am#she has a guinea pig named Agnes. she dropped out of college. she joined camp staff to avoid helping her mom move#and i love all of that about her. and i wish i could say these things but i dont want to freak her out and lose one of the best friendships#but im playing the long game because. this summer she applied to the same summer camp as me. so we'll be around each other a lot more#and that kind of proximity fosters incredibly close relationships. most of the people ive dated have been from that camp because of that#so im gonna spend the summer trying to get closer. and then maybe by the end ill shoot my shot#worst case ive just gotten closer to a very good friend. im not going into the summer with the goal of dating her#just the goal of getting to know a wonderful person better. and im just very delighted to have her in my life#and have the chance to work with her this summer. its all just good and makes me happy#its one of the only things keeping me going rn#so happy valentines day everyone
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We’ve heard about the seeming contrast of creators that make these super happy saccharine pieces of art being bitter people whose lives seem to be filled with agony whereas horror creators that thrive in the grotesque all seem to be super happy and positive people, the usual “Miyazaki Hayao vs Itou Junji” kinda beat.
There’s a similar, slightly overlapping dynamic between cuisine and blacksmithing. Chefs are the single angriest existences in the world and would piss on your grave seconds after stuffing your freshly gutted corpse in it. Blacksmiths are jovial, usually quiet dudes that work machinery and think your dagger is still very cool even if it’s got some balance issues.
Now, of course this is making reference to the Ramsay style of food shows, which is not the universal experience when it comes to the genre -- I’m more of a Cutthroat Kitchen kind of guy, because I like Mario Party -- but it’s always fun to me to go through an episode of Hell’s Kitchen where Ramsay annihilates his own vocal chords screaming “FUCKING DONKEY” and “IT’S RAW”, then right after, watch some old Forged In Fire and see the Filipino weapon master, Marcaida, test a short sword one of the contestants made and it fucking explodes into shards without nary a scratch on the pig’s carcass, obviously the shittiest weapon you could possibly make, damascus steel shards flying embedded in his arm, and he’ll calmly, with his signature friendly smile, lovable demeanor, and charismatic gait, face the contestant and be like
“Well, you see, Bob, your blade unfortunately suffered a catastrophic malfunction, and it can’t be tested any further. However, the handle on your weapon allowed for some very good balance and ease of swing, it fits my palm perfectly and it swings very easy. Despite the blade fracturing in 7 uneven fragments, we can see that the blade didn’t chip or roll at all. Good work, Bob” then they’ll shake on it and Bob is eliminated, and all he’ll say is “I’m sorry to have punctured 4 blood vessels on Marcaida, but end of the day, the other smiths were simply better, and I’m proud of them. I just gotta go and work on my fundamentals back at home now :)” meanwhile Hell’s Kitchen’s contestants are having a shootout with Glocks in their dorm because someone made fun of someone else’s raw scallops.
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lovefool by the cardigans
— series concept ft. soft yandere dc! x bimbo/himbo reader
soft yandere! dc characters x himbo/bimbo/careless reader... who's just a bundle of joy to be with... where all the villains have an agreement to never mess with you, hell even kidnap you occasionally from the arms of the heroes just to hear you rant endlessly about your 'mundane' life as if you weren't just abducted... where the heroes would quite frankly sometimes have to put you in some sort of human leash because you wouldn't literally panic if there's a gun pointed against you...
the urge to make a shitpost/romcom series just because i listened to lovefool by the cardigans... no idea of platonic/romantic but i'm just moving on with the flow... a bit more on the romantic side ig...
i'm going feral at the thought of a wild goose chase with you, because one second you're bundled up in the arms of the justice league, each one of them scheduled to strictly watch over you, another is stationed near the door as they'd be the one to get you anything you want or need— then suddenly you're at a villain's lair that houses all the bad guys and then oops! you accidentally inhaled the scarecrow's fear gas but you're not reacting?! is your mind filled with air...? all your response was a quirk of your eyebrows and a question that's just "is there any signal here? the league told me to call me if i'm in any trouble...?" which then you would quickly take back and instead would smile at them like some goons didn't just threaten you with a knife to your neck just because you screamed, calling the scarecrow's mask a sack of moving, possessed potatoes.
originally, most villains would whisk you away from the arms of your vigilante babysitters but then they discover you're just a bundle of joy who laughs at the shittiest joke anyone could make, who snorts at their 'funny' antics and words, who grins when they take pictures of you to use as bait that you're being held hostage. it kind of goes to the point that their original plans all go to waste and they decide to just, take you all for themselves. they don't even know how you were able to survive being thrown around carelessly by the shoulders of big, muscular men, but they're more jealous at the image of you giggling and running your hands through muscles arms and toned abs; so they took it in themself to be the ones to guide you through your now makeshift room, hoping you would fawn over them with those cute stars in your eyes...
and if you were taken back into the arms of the vigilantes? oh god, the heroes can't even scold you because you'd be already hugging the next person in the room, babbling endlessly about your adventures with the villains and ignoring their seething envy with just how much you brag about how some are "too hot to be evil! i think i can change them!" because why are you talking about some randoms who just kidnapped you for their own gain when you have them right there? no way are you now getting out of their sights, them trying so hard to even distract you from going outside because "it's just too dangerous to be out there, boo! you're safe with us."
and you just nod your head with that toothy grin of your! are you seriously unaware of how much the richest of the rich are willing to pay for just an hour of your already shining presence? hell, you're just too... out of it, to the point you'll be the one who discovers their secret identities just by accidentally noticing details that nobody with functioning thoughts would even think about.
"batman! you must be bruce wayne, right?" you randomly approach him one day, with a foot tapping the floor impatiently. you stare at him like you had made a scientific discovery.
"... how do you know...?"
"'cause you're both hot and rich and whenever i get a feel of mr. wayne's abs, they're the same size as yours—!" and you continue to guess his children's identities all correctly with a quip of how hot they are or how you wish one you were fit and toned enough to have honkers as big as them...
... that night, you're spending it in the batcave with bruce and his children trying their damn best to brainwash you into keeping their identities a secret, to which you reply with a nod and an airheaded smile. but then the moment they remove you from the straps constricting you in a comfy bed, you'll be running off to alfred, ranting about how you can't believe that you guessed their personas right and if he knew it all along too...
huh, guess that's what makes you all the more charming.
a/n: please do comment or send in asks if you're interested in this as much as i am... i wrote this in quick succession and altho i am planning to make this series a shitpost one or a lighthearted romcom one, i rlly want to amp the yandere-ness hehe. it was fun writing this albeit it being written in about 10 minutes or less. ignore the header ill change it soon 🫦
#🌷... yael's works#🧁... yael's misc.#series: lovefool#yandere dc#yandere batfam#yandere justice league#yandere superfam#yandere dc villains#yandere batman#yandere bruce wayne#yandere scarecrow#yandere jonathan crane#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x female reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#soft yandere
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౨ৎ voicemails choi seungcheol leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: baby, darling)
...one: hey darling! we just arrived at the hotel. i called right after we landed but you didn't answer and then jeonghan reminded me that we’re in completely different time zones. i feel like a total idiot for forgetting about it. good thing you didn't answer though, i hope you have the sweetest dreams. anyway, call me in the morning when you wake up. i love you
...two: the bed felt so cold last night. fuck, it’s been only a day and i miss you like crazy already
...three: i think the kids are sick of me. they say i keep talking about you but (laughs) how could i not? how was your day though? what did you do today? did eat something good for dinner?
...four: that photo of you and kkuma you sent me earlier. (pause) it made my whole day. i immediately set it as my wallpaper. (sigh)
...five: i hate cuddling these goddamn pillows, i want you back in my arms baby
...six: oh my god, yesterday was so much fun! mingyu and dino took me out to drink, and we ended up in the shittiest street ever, and like, there were so many people staring at us weirdly. i know we’re good looking, but come on. then mingyu started to get scared, which started to freak dino out too (laugs). and then i started to get scared too. but then we discovered the best bar ever. i can't wait to tell you all about it
...seven: i saw it’s raining back home. i put an umbrella in your bag before i left because you always forget to bring it with you, and make sure to dress well. go over to my place and take some of my hoodies and coats, and i don't want to hear any complaints
...eight: i miss you
...nine: i should’ve brought a bigger suitcase with me, i swear i have so many gifts for you
...ten: i wish you could be here with me. (pause) i love you
taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee
#seventeen x you#svt reactions#seventeen#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen carat#seventeen kpop#svt fluff#seventeen smut#svt smut#scoups#seventeen seungcheol#choi seungcheol#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x you#seungcheol x y/n#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol fanfic#svt#cheol#seventeen scenarios#seventeen reaction#scoups fluff
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"If nothing else gets you through. Then darling, i'll cry with you" | LN4
parings: Lando Norris x reader.
Summary: after the chaotic Brazilian GP, you know Lando is verygood at lying that he is alright and nothing can move him. But with you he can't pretend.
Now playing: "Cry with you" by Jeremy Zucker.
Word count: +1,2k.
Warnings: I think none. A few cursed words I guess and mentions of anxiety. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.
Author's note: so today was the shittiest day at the office y’all! I still feel like shit but I needed to write something about this. Why is Lando so hated??? You need to check yourselves!! Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)
MASTERLIST
The Brazil GP it’s been the toughest so far. The Championship of drivers was also kind of defined. Of course Max was gonna win. He wasn't a three time world champion by luck. He is really one of the best drivers this sport has ever seen in history along with Senna, Prost, Lewis and Schumacher. But all of that indicated that your boyfriend was not gonna win the championship this year and that shuttered your heart.
You knew how hard Lando worked on that. All of the media attacked him. Social media twisting his words in a really cruel way. It was all too much noise and you perfectly knew how hard it was for him. How much anxiety he was handling and all of the pressure he was putting on himself. The pressure and illusion of the team to be back at the top after so many years decided it was gonna be Lando the one who did that. And that was a correct choice, lando was more than capable of winning the championship. But at some point it all happened so fast the pressure was descomunal.
You knew your boyfriend. You know how hard he’s worked all year. How much this all meant to him. You didn’t have holidays this year because he really wanted to fight. Train. And attack. Or at least that’s what he wanted to do.
You knew he was really good at pretending and playing it cool so people won’t ever know how much hurt his carrying. He could play the super hero indestructible for all the camaras. You won’t see him shattered right then and there. But you knew him too damn well to know he was broken. He hoped to be the winner. He dreamed about it his whole life. And this magical year was finally the one who gave him the chance to almost be it. This race was the hardest. It was luck and skills to the limit. A lot of crashes. The rain was irritating at one point. You almost didn't want to keep watching. When Lando got off track and went down to P6, you knew. He didn’t reply to any message through the radio. You cried, of course you did. You were on this as much as he was in it. You cried out of frustration. This year was a rollercoaster for you. You also dreamed of the day Lando won. You wanted that to happen even more than he wanted to. He deserved it. For how hard he works. How hard he is on himself when something out of his hands happens. Or when he made a mistake. How hard was all of that on his mental health. How obsessed he could get. And how that could send him into a spiral. You knew this was the best year at the same time it was the worst one.
When you watched him walk into the garage where you were. Your heart broke. Not because he was angry or even sad. He was playing it cool like it was not a big deal at all. So you knew how much pain he was handling.
Your eyes met after he talked to his engineers and mechanics. You were so sad this weekend. So good yet forgettable.
“Hey” he said walking to you and you just couldn’t help but dropped a few tears hugging him so tightly. You were squeezing him at some point. He let you do it. And rested his head on your neck. He fought the tears in his eyes so hard in that moment.
“I’m so proud of you. You are so strong Lando. So talented” you said now looking at him trying to repair something with your thoughts on him but knowing it won’t change anything. But you just wanted him to know he was all of that and the greatest person alive you knew. He kissed you gently.
“I love you y/n. Thank you for always supporting me” he said and gave you a kiss on the cheek giving you another hug. You didn’t say anything but hugged him tightly. After a few seconds another person joined and by the giggles he left out, you both knew it was Oscar. You two giggled a little. It was a family hug.
After that intimate little moment, the media had to be done so you had to say goodbye for a while.
(…)
After dinner with the papaya family you decided it was night in. Lando showered again because he said he had a headache. You haven’t talked about how he feels yet. You didn’t want to be invasive and more because this was a very sensitive topic to discuss. You knew he would eventually crack and talk to you. Like he always did.
You put on your pajamas and waited for him by just looking out the window at the city of São Paulo. After a few minutes la do was out. You turned to look at him. He was by his luggage wearing only a towel looking for a boxer and T-shirt. You could see his whole back. He took off the towel and put the clothes on. You looked to the bed and climbed in it waiting for him. You analyzed him one more time while he got cozy on the bed with you.
“Stop looking at me like that. I’m okay babe” he said, like reading your mind. You gave him a half smile.
“You sure? We can talk about it baby” you said softly and got closer to him so you could stroke his hair sweetly. He looked at you and nodded. But then his eyes were full of tears so he denied. Your heart sinks. “Come here my love” you said, bringing me to your chest and hugging him in a way for him to find comfort somehow. He hugged you and hid his face in your neck so you couldn’t see him. “It’s okay baby. I know it was q fucking shitty day at the office. I know how much you wanted it. And you deserve it still, baby. But life is sometimes a bitch you know? I mean the alpines got the podium” you said trying to make him feel better. He was still crying and all you could read was he tigherter his grip. “Sometimes life is a bitch to the people that don't deserve it. Amazing people who are good and so no harm but somehow get the harder life mode now and then. This makes you stronger, Lando. I know next years gonna be. You will do it. Because you can and because you want to. And that more than enough because talent you already have babe” he moved a little under your hug. You heard him giggle a little. That makes you smile a little too.
You stoked his curls gently and kissed his forehead.
“I love you and admire you so fucking much. You deserve the world and I know you will eventually get it” you told him now looking into his eyes holding his face between your hands. His face was wet and his eyes teary. Seeing him like this broke your heart in so Many pieces. But you knew he was gonna be okay. He was gonna be world champion one day.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I love you” he said with a shaky voice and you gave him a little kiss.
“You just did you landinho” you said sweetly making him smile and you gave him another million kisses.
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Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!
#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#lando norris#lando norris x reader#f1 fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando x y/n#lando norris imagine#lando x you#lando x reader#lando norris x you
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The ask abt satoru helping pregnant! Reader to get up bc she's too plump to get up on our own after sitting down is PRICELESS!
But I was like gurl, I want to guilt trip him so bad.
Imagine he's teasing her again but she's actually pretty frustrated and like upset for some reason and she just tears up on the floor!
Imagine this poor man's reaction 😭😭
this time, it’s after you have your bath. you’re stuck in the bathtub and can’t get up—it’s always this way lately but satoru is always standing by at your beck and call to help you.
unless this time, when you call him, he’s just giggling away like the shithead he is.
“satoru!!! i can’t get up! just help me already!”
“ahahahah you’re so cute being stuck though!”
and hot, he added internally. the way the water cascades around your taut belly somehow turns him on. he’ll fight anyone who says that they no longer find their wives attractive while pregnant, because in his eyes, you look heavenly.
meanwhile, now you’re getting real upset. you’re self-conscious that he has to see you all naked after bath almost every day, and you take his laughing the wrong way.
and doubled with your hormones, you finally tear up. “hic…”
oh and satoru’s laughter immediately dies down, turns into a panicked frown as he approaches you and gets a hold over your body. “hey, hey… sorry—let’s get you out of here, yeah?”
you’re still sniffling even after he picks you up and dries you off, but then you’re getting louder after he puts you in your pajamas.
“hey… don’t cry, i’m sorry—”
“huwaaa!!”
or it could also be you’re just prolonging your cries so you can guilt trip him 💁🏻♀️ anyway, he doesn’t know, all he knows is seeing you crying makes him uneasy.
“stop crying…” he pulls you in his arms, patting you in the back with a sad face. “sorry. i’m sorry, okay? i don’t mean to make fun of you. it’s not good for you and the baby if you’re upset… so please?”
you roll your watery eyes at him, suddenly running out of tears and pulling away. “you’re a shit.”
“—! yeah. okay…”
“you’re the shittiest.”
“mm-hmm, whatever you say, sweets.”
and that night, following ‘whatever you say’ rule, he’s sleeping on the couch.
#i swear some of you here actually love to make gojo all worried 🥹#but#he’s so driving you into tears at one point and apologizes so hard afterwards 💁🏻♀️#—chu’s mailbox 📬#—headcanons☁️#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠
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I'm honestly just looking to rant and this might be long depending on how fast I get irritated the more I type so if this isn't coherent or well written I apologize in advance. Since it looks like Ambessa will take on a more antagonistic role in arcane season two, I would like to unpack the fandom's antiblackness that you guys are either blind to or aware and too pussy to call it out as my gut is telling me it's gonna increase and if no one is gonna start the difficult conversation then I sure as hell will.
Sevika:
Mel:
Starting off strong with the definition of "you guys want complex female characters but can't even handle her". Mel Medarda is in quite the predicament seeing how she's morally grey, a black woman, AND "gets in the way" of a mlm ship so she was kinda screwed from the start. A cunning politician disowned for her pacifism who acts as a sort of bridge to Noxus' slow introduction, and is THE ONLY CHARACTER IN THE SEASON 1 MAIN CAST SPECIFICALLY CREATED FOR THE SHOW. She's treated like satan incarnate or a Jezebel (highly suggest looking into that if you don't know what that is), GOOD character analysis is rare, and when she is talked about positively, it's so often chalked up to appearances that I'd rather yall not talk about her at all. Oh you love Mel? Then can we talk about her relationship with her mother? Unpack her dynamic with Jayce? Maybe more fanworks centered around her? I've seen yall's fake asses dropping the shittiest fucking takes about her only to turn around and gush over how pretty she is, and yall think you're slick about it and you're not. I would say I prefer the ones who are loud and proud about their hatred but that'd be a lie, they're two cheeks on the same ass; annoying and couldn't give a decent break down of her character if a gun was pointed at they head even she's perfect to dissect. I could talk about her more but we'd be here all day and so many black women even from outside the fanbase have already talked about yall so there's no need for me to add on 🤷🏾♀️🤷🏾♀️🤷🏾♀️🤷🏾♀️.
Quick question, have you guys ever tried to talk about her in a non sexual way? Yes, Sevika is undeniably sexy and you could argue that true stans of hers talk about her outside of horny time, but a good half of the fandom is a different story. In a similar case to Mel's, deep dives into her character are rare to find which is crazy when she acts as Zaun's own "kingmaker". She's loyal to her city and the cause, never to a specific person and will not hesitate to betray you. She could be your right hand man one day, and the next she might find a better kingpin to follow and stab you in the back like it all meant nothing. "Were you tempted?" "Not for a worm like him". Simple and subtle and probably my favorite Sevika scene; she comes to realize Silco is no longer the best leader for Zaun, but he's as good as it gets for now and so she sticks by him. I remember a YouTube comment breaking down how she's essentially the quintessential Zaun: a brute warrior molded by her environment, who defied Vander's peaceful ways and embraced Silco's cruelty. Her mindset and goal is interesting and you'd think it'd result in some fascinating meta or exploration of her upbringing when we got a hint that she potentially has some daddy issues right? Obviously, but what do we get instead? White sapphics treating her like nothing more than a sexual object. How delightful!
Ekko:
This might partially be Riot's fault because — and I hate to sound like a league lore nerd — Ekko is quite underdeveloped compared to the richer origins of his former pre arcane self, but I'm gonna hold off on that till the season finale to see how they handle him. Anyways, at this point the fandom clearly sees him as Jinx's trophy husband. When you talk about him, she is brought into the convo 90% of the time. That's exactly why I prefer black timebomb shippers over the nonblack ones because I trust they actually love Ekko as a character on his own. Even though I have my complaints regarding how's been written so far, I still know he's too good to be reduced to Jinx's loverboy. He fights and cares for his city, the only character that you can confidently say is pure of heart, and is the revolutionary leader Zaun really needs. He's just as smart as Jinx too, he is literally going to create TIME TRAVEL. Why does no one wanna talk about that? Can we be excited for his character development and arc not just for the timebomb scenes you'll get out of it?
Ambessa:
Can't even deny this woman is awful but her presence on screen enthralled me after a couple of rewatches and I also love bad mothers in media so I've settled on a love/hate relationship. Yes, she's definitely gonna have some influence on Caitlyn, which makes sense since she has now lost her mother; she's vulnerable and as we have seen, naive. She's practically free real estate for Ambessa. My recent worry though has been how the fandom seems to be willing to put all of Caitlyn's actions on her as if Cait isn't a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. Of course being grown doesn't mean you're immune to manipulation, but I've seen some Silco and Jinx comparisons and it is NOT the same. Mind you we haven't even seen the first three episodes; we don't know how far Ambessa's manipulation is going to go and we can't really tell what the dynamic is gonna be like based off of clips and trailers that are likely shown out of context on purpose to throw people off. I'll never defend her actions, hell I'll join in on the lashings, but my black ass is also not gonna sit here and let yall talk about her weirdly or pin all of this on her.
Some might say I'm overthinking this, but I've been here since November 2021 and have sat back and observed for 2 years. You don't have to write deep, philosophical conversations 24/7, I'm sure it's not all in bad faith and I won't act like I don't thirst over Sevika or marvel at Mel's beauty. I'm not saying you have to like these characters and that you're racist if you don't. My frustration comes from the lack of nuanced conversations and hypocritical opinions surrounding black characters in this show. When you try to say something about this, you're hit with excuses; it reminds me of how man obsessed fujoshis act when they're questioned for not giving two fucks about female characters. They're either reduced to one character trait, only admired for their looks, or only discussed when it's about the white character they're connected to. Do NOT under ANY circumstance be black and morally ambiguous, you WILL be held to higher moral standards than everyone's wittle blorbos who can do wrong and are defended from all sides when you dare to take the rose colored stan glasses off and criticize them. What's really ridiculous is you hear the "complex characters" bullshit every two to three business days and some of you have the nerve to boast about this series being diverse while simultaneously ignoring the complexities in the characters of color. This is the main reason I took a step back and with season two around the corner I thought "Hey, maybe it'll be better this time!" and it was a mistake. Good to know yall still have an underlying racism problem you don't wanna address but with some extra classism thrown in. "What will we do once Arcane ends?" hopefully get a job, touch some grass, and reflect. Lord knows yall need it. The faster yall sizzle out the better. I'm done that's all I have to say lol goodnight 👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽.
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miguel o'hara x reader (fluff) - please? → she/her pronouns!
miguel begs you not to get out of bed
By far the highest blessing you could receive in the morning is Miguel O'Hara's morning voice.
Deep, gravelly, and sparse, Miguel's morning voice always manages to send chills down your spine, especially when you're nothing but a hair's width apart from his chest.
You can feel his heart slowly beat against your cheek, his chest rising and falling to the sound of his breathing. Waking up to a face full of chest has been unexpectedly, one of the numerous highlights of your day.
Slowly, your eyes flutter open, and it takes you a moment to come to your senses. He smells nice, a reminder of the shower gel you keep in your bathroom for when he visits.
Miguel's almost too big for your bed; he takes up your space, barely fits the comforter, but you love him anyway. You really don't know how, or why Miguel chooses to sleep with you in your tiny little bed, but you don't complain.
"Amor."
His wording rumbles from the deepest parts of his throat, and you can feel the vibration of his voice against your ear. You squirm a little, tiny noises escaping your mouth as you make yourself just a little more comfortable.
"Mmmph... what time is it?" You murmur into his skin, savoring the warmth he omits.
Miguel lazily rests his heavy arm over you, running his abnormally large hand over your back. He presses a darling kiss into your hair, humming. It's only you who gets to see him like this, all sleepy-eyed and touchy beyond repair. You try to savor this version of Miguel as possible, knowing that he has to be someone else when he's at work.
Miguel keeps a single arm on you while you try to bend your arm in impossible ways, twisting and turning your limb to try to reach your phone on the bedside table. Eventually it works, and you manage to slip your phone into your fingers before you dislocate your arm.
"It's 9:23..." You breathe, sighing before turning your phone back off and placing it next to your pillow.
Miguel's pulling you in like a magnet, snuggling you like a puppy would a teddy bear. He's just too cute like this, hands and legs roaming around your body for something to squeeze. As much as you absolutely hate to let go of him, duty calls.
"Miguel... we have to go to work."
He can hear the distaste in your voice, reminded of the agonizingly long spread of cleanup, the idea of people bothering him, the mediocre food at the cafeteria. (Except for the empanadas, lmao)
Miguel doesn't want to go to work today, and he doesn't think you do either. Wearing a skin-tight supersuit just wasn't it today.
"Noo...." Miguel whines, strengthening his arms around you. You have to tap on his arm, just so enough air can find it's way back to your lungs again.
"Miguel, we have a job to do." You say, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. You hear him groan into your hair, your mind practically going blank at the sound of his intense morning voice.
We mUST stay focused brothers, we must stay focused!!!
Almost like every morning, you begin your wrestle for freedom, pushing at his forearms wrapped tight over you. It's almost like you forget that Miguel's a superhuman Spider-Man. Stubbornly, he keeps his lazy stance, ignoring your tiny pushes and shoves.
"Oh my gosh, Miguel. Let me go. If you don't go to work, I will." You curse, squirming and kicking yourself in all sorts of directions.
He shakes his head again, eyes closed shut and nose still in your hair.
It was only a matter of time before you'd tire yourself out.
And you did.
Miguel's got the shittiest, most satisfied grin on his face, and all you can do is scowl at him. Still, he hasn't let go of you, and now you're convinced he wont let you go until the end of the day.
As much as Miguel was stubborn, you were too. You have a final ace up your sleeve, and hopefully it'll save both Jessica and the kids from disarray in the office today.
Miguel's face starts to melt down a little when you flutter your eyelashes at him, shoving your face into his chest and pressing a sweet little kiss between his pectorals.
It's like the satisfaction from Miguel transferred over to you, and Miguel is left speechless as you trail your way up to his clavicle, nipping and kissing at the surface of his skin.
"Let me go, please?" You ask, specifically in the tone of voice that you know Miguel loses his shit over.
His voice is hitched in his throat, ears turning scarlet as his grip around you starts to loosen.
"I... honey-"
The moment you reach his neck, Miguel know's he's done for, a chill running down his neck and back. It makes him all hot, his mind being wiped clean like a whiteboard. Just for the funsies, you kiss his pulse point a little, wrapping your own arms around his neck.
Utterly, Miguel melts, the sweetest, poutiest expression on his face like he doesn't know what to.
You win.
While you still can, you slip out of Miguel's grip, your feet finally meeting the carpeted floor. Miguel realizes your little act, grumbling and pouting to himself as he relishes the disappearance of your warmth.
"If you come to work, we can do more..." You tease, trotting off to your bathroom with a chuckle.
Reluctantly, the man rises from your bed, the boards creaking under his weight. (One day, he's gonna break your bed, somehow.) He follows after you, running his hand through his messy bedhead.
"Coming, sweetie."
© 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂.
#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara#atsv#atsv x reader#atsv miguel#x reader#reader insert#romance#fluff#spiderman#spiderverse#seratopia writes ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
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★WINTER VISITOR: jason todd x reader.
( first part here !! ; afab!reader, cuss words, smoking, sexual content ) ────────── ★
"It's you again." You murmured, your voice sounding extra quiet now that it was past midnight. You could see the tired look in his eyes as he sat down on the wooden floor of your porch, his legs stretched out in front of him, reminding you of the position he was in that day you found him bleeding right there, at that same spot.
It had been a few weeks, maybe two and a half... and there he was: the Red Hood, back at your house, looking up at you with those white shining eyes of his ridiculous helmet.
"Yeah, it's me." He said, and before you could even process or think about the modulated voice, he removed the helmet. Now, only the area around his eyes was covered by that little domino mask.
You didn't like smoking inside, so you often went out to the porch for this sole purpose. To smoke a blunt. It calmed you down, though you didn't enjoy the actual action of smoking that much. It was... er, alright.
You exhaled the smoke slowly, and that was when he noticed what you were doing. "Can I be really honest with you right now?" He murmured, still looking up at you. You offered a soft grunt as a response, and he continued: "I would never, ever, in any possible circumstance ever, guess that you were a stoner." He said, a light chuckle following his words.
You furrowed your eyebrows, something that you seemed to do a lot in his presence, but you weren't offended in the slightest.
"Well... uh, thanks?" You mumbled with little interest. "I do it mostly for the buzz."
"I guessed you'd say that." He teased, a little stupid grin on his lips, and you glared at him.
"What's that even supposed to mean?" You inquired, a faux-offended tone in your voice.
"Nothing, nothing." He snorted, leaning his head back against the wall.
"What are you doing back here anyway?" You asked, now moving to sit down close to him. Honestly, you didn't really mind that he was who he was right now. You were stoned, tired and... didn't give a shit. You'd probably still sit in the same spot if you were sober.
He sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "Was passing by and saw you out." He looked over at you, watching as you sat down beside him as he spoke. "Can I have a drag?"
"Sure." You mumbled, handing him the blunt. Woah, now you were gonna share saliva with him. Where the hell was your life going?
You mimicked his position, leaning your head against the wall. The night was freezing. You two probably shouldn't be outside, but you were covered in your warmest clothes, and he didn't seem to be cold, so you brushed your own concerns off.
"I looked you up, by the way." He murmured, handing you the little joint back. "Not much out there."
You arched one eyebrow at his words. Oddly enough, this time you weren't weirded out. "And you're admitting it?"
"Uh, yeah." He shrugged, letting out a soft huff. "Trying to make conversation or something." You laughed at that. What the hell was this guy's deal?
You didn't seem to be angry at him, so he kept talking to you. The whole thing was unusual for both of you. Talking to strangers (sorta) and being comfortable while doing so wasn't something that happened often in your lives.
You two spent hours and hours talking, even after you finished the blunt. It was nice, and even though it was still freezing, you two weirdly didn't bother by it. Maybe it wasn't that cold.
When you woke up the next day, you were in your bed, all tangled up in your sheets. You didn't even know how you got there, but you felt light, like you had a good night of sleep. Also unusual, because every time you smoked, you had the shittiest sleep of your life, but it seemed like this time had been different.
You picked up your phone, and as soon as you unlocked the screen, there was a text notification from a contact that you didn't recognize.
It was a red heart emoji, just that, and the text said: "If you're wondering, yes, I was the one who put you to bed. And yes, I snooped around your room 😝"
You rolled your eyes at that and tossed the phone down on the matress.
★...
More often than not, your few friends noted how affectionate you were. Always giving them little touches, brushing hair back, playing with the strands, fixing their clothes, stroking their arms with your fingers, even tying their shoelaces. It was all so you.
You didn't have many people close to you, and not because you were a loner, simply because you valued your hodiernal connections enough and didn't feel the need to look for anything else at the moment. You liked your friends, in fact, you loved them.
So, when that guy in the red helmet started showing up at your porch at ungodly hours at least three times a week, you started to consider adding him to your circle of friends. It wouldn't harm anyone, he was nice, and your friends wouldn't know anyway.
He was surprisingly talkative with you. You always expected those harsh and violent vigilantes to have harsh and violent personalities even when they weren't doing their job, but he was cool. He talked about a lot of things with you just to keep the conversation going, and you thought it was cute.
"... so... hey, did you get a new lamp?" He asked as he flopped down aggressively on your couch, interrupting his own line of thought. He was asking you about the neighborhood cat before.
You nodded at that, standing across from him while you fixed the little Christmas hat that had fallen off your bookshelf. "Yeah, the other one I had broke. I kinda bumped into it."
He hummed at your explanation, and you recognized the sound of his helmet being taken off. Always, as soon as he got comfortable in your house, he removed it.
While you had some trouble getting the Christmas decoration to stay in place, he stared at your back. Taking in your little green and red pajamas, your slightly messy hair, the dark green socks on your feet, and the way you seemed to be struggling terribly to get the Christmas hat to stay up. Adorable.
He stood from the couch and walked over to help you. "Let me try." He said, gently nudging your hands away. You sighed and let him.
You watched his concentrated face as he tried to put the little red and white hat in a position where its own weight wouldn't make it tumble. He looked nicer up close.
"It's Jason, by the way." He mumbled, eyes focused on fixing the hat. You furrowed your eyebrows.
"Huh?"
"My name. It's Jason." He explained.
He already knew yours. You had told him a few weeks ago when you shared a blunt for the second time.
"Ah, alright." You mumbled back to him, trying not to sound surprising. Jason. It was a cute name, and it seemed to fit him. "Fits you."
He finally got the hat to stay up, and he turned to you with a big, proud smile. You found it quite adorable how much he smiled around you. You didn't know if he was like this all the time, but you chose to believe it was a unique thing.
You two just stared at each other for a moment, him proud of his achievement, and you thankful for his help.
"Do you know how profound your eyes are?" He blurted, making a stupid face at you. Truly, he was gazing deeply into your eyes.
"If this is you trying to hit on me, you're failing." You retorted, a little smile appearing on your lips.
"Just saying." He shrugged, stepping back a bit. "I fixed your hat. You're welcome."
You watched as Jason walked back to your couch, flopping down onto it once more and letting out a lazy groan. His eyes closed, and he let out a tired sigh.
"Rough night?" You murmured, sitting down beside him. Your couch was comfortable and fit up to three people. Most of these nightly visits were spent in it, talking away. It was all too cozy.
Recently, he had started placing his arm around you when you sat closely, that and gently caressing your hair. And, this time, it wasn't different. As soon as your head touched his shoulder, his arm was around you, and his fingers started threading through your hair.
When you got closer, spending time with Red Hood Jason became something like spending time with yourself. Despite the absurdly different lifestyles, you two had a lot in common.
Like physical touch as a love language, liking sweet tea, reading, staying up until dawn, and, of course, being each other's secret. Nobody knew about your midnight visitor, and nobody knew where he went when he became unreachable past midnight.
"Yeah, rough night." He said, his voice becoming softer as he steadied himself with your help, the help of your presence, of your proximity. "Just, like, lots of stupid people making my job even harder."
"I get it." You murmured, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He was to your left, his right hand playing with your hair while you half-rested your back on his chest. It wasn't awkward anymore. You weren't even sure it ever was. "It used to be like that at my old job, and then I got a job at that little bookstore close to Gotham U."
"Mmm." He nodded, tilting his head a little in your direction, but his eyes remained closed. "You think you'd recognize me if I went there in my normal clothes?" There was a faint smile on his lips as he muttered those words.
"Probably." You said smuggly. "That little mask doesn't hide much."
"True," he chuckled softly, his eyes fluttering open to look down at you. They still look tired, and you had no idea if you'd ever see him looking not-tired. Maybe cause you've never seen each other after a good night of sleep. "But, they hide the most important part of my face. You can see the color of my eyes, yeah, but you don't know what's the shape of them or anything."
"Makes sense. Yeah, I think I wouldn't recognize you at first, but I'd recognize your voice, for sure." You said.
"What? Is it special or something?" He smiled at you, his fingers giving your ear a light, playful tug. "I bet you wouldn't recognize that either."
You gasped dramatically, hand cluching chest as you looked at him with the dumbest smile on your parted lips. "How dare you doubt me?" You inquired, your tone dripping of sarcasm.
"I mean..." he mumbled. "I guess you might recognize it. I don't know... we'll- we might see it one day." He fumbled over his words, his cheeks reddening. You got him flustered by making fun of him.
You wondered if that guy snuggled up with you on your couch, mumbling and fumbling over his words because of you was the same guy that beat and killed criminals in the deeps of Gotham. How could he be so... him? People have layers, yes, but this man is unbelievable.
Everything went quiet for a few minutes, only the faint sounds of your breathing and the soft hum of the heater could be heard, but those were muffled by the pull of your gazes on each other. He couldn't stop staring at your face, at your nose, at your lips, at your forehead, at your eyes. Like he'd never seen something so flawless, so polished, so complete ─ all he needed.
And you stared at him, at his mask, at the paint around his blueish-green eyes, at his chapped, but rosy pouty lips, at his straight nose, at his cheekbones, his chin, the white and black locks that fell on his forehead, his ears and the small earings on them. Like you'd never seen someone so unique, that seemed to be right there for you. Just for you.
You sighed when the staring contest became too much, but neither of your gazes strayed. His eyes focused on your lips, and you'd recognize that look in any light.
"Can I be really honest with you right now?" You murmured, and you could see a little smile creeping on his lips when he registered your words. Or, his words. He offered a soft "mhm" in response. "I want to kiss you so fucking bad. I think I might die if I don't."
"You might die?" His tone was soft, slightly mocking. "I don't think I'd like for that to happen."
"It'd be all your fault..." you taunted, giving him ridiculous puppy eyes. But, he was ridiculous too, and they worked so well on him.
He simply chuckled at you, and in half a second, his hand in your hair was used to push your head closer to his face as he leaned in, capturing your lips in the softest kiss you've ever shared with someone. It was lazy, he wanted to adjust to your pace, to let you guide, and you kept it deliciously slow and delicate, your heads moving and lips touching each other in a way that was simultaneously so tender and so sensual.
His hand slid to your cheek, holding you closer and caging you in his embrace while you raised a leg and placed it right on top of his, draping it over his lap, almost to mimic his hold on you. He used his left arm to pull you even closer by that same leg, your chests touching as the kiss became more intense and your tongues met.
He parted his lips to invite it, and you gladly accepted, sliding it inside of his mouth and caressing his own languidly and in a pleasant way, earning a hum from him that you swallowed in your kiss.
The feeling of your lips on his, his hands on you, his tongue on yours... way more satisfying than you'd ever imagined. You didn't think he'd feel so good on you.
His hand on your leg pulled you on his lap, the kiss becoming sloppy as you both shuffled on the couch to get you into a straddling position, each one of your thighs beside and squeezing his, your knees digging into the soft cushions of the couch as the kiss started getting a little more intense.
After all this time knowing and wanting each other, even if the attraction was suble, you'd expected wildness, despair, hands clutching clothes, teeth clashing, lips being biten, but that wasn't happening. What was in the air was need, tenderness, longing, and comfort, almost like it was a normal Thursday.
But it wasn't, and the both of you knew that. It was something new, something that you had yet to explore with the other. You were, of course, stepping into uncharted territory, a land which you knew nothing about. How would it be from now on? He'd still come almost every night? You'd still text constantly? Would you still call him in between your breaks to gossip about your boss? Would things get difficult and complicated?
These thoughts made you pull back from the kiss. Fucking anxiety. The pleasant and wet pop of your lips parting would've made you smile if you weren't so preoccupied. "Sorry." You mumbled into his lips. "Thinking too much."
"Don't worry, I get it." His nose brushed yours, and his heavy, warm fingers slipped under your shirt. He was panting a little, his cheeks, lips and neck flushed. He wanted you so bad. "If... you just want to chill and hang out like we usually do, we can just try to go back to that. Don't overthink it, okay? This doesn't doesn't have to be complicated."
You furrowed you eyebrows at him. "I don't see how this would not be complicated." He smiled at you, at your words, at whatever. He was, honestly, just glad to have you there, on top of him, speaking to him with your pretty voice after he had your tongue down his throat.
"I mean... like, don't think too much. I know it's easier said than done, but I think we'll figure it out anyway." He explained, his words sounding so sweet as he obviously spoke in a way that you just knew was an attempt to comfort you. "I don't wanna sound stupid and mushy, I really don't, but... yeah, I want with you... whatever you want with me. As long as you're happy and satisfied."
"Jason, what the hell do you mean?" You mumbled, narrowing your eyes at him. He laughed at your tone.
Saying his name felt weird. Until some time ago, you only called him Red Hood. But it also felt right, felt closer, deeper, maybe even made you feel warmer inside. The both of you.
"That I like you and I'm happy to be here, doing this with you." He said. "I don't know if it's too fast, maybe it is, but I'm in for it if you are."
Jason squeezed your waist, his eyes glued to yours as he waited for your response. His fingers caressed your skin, the palms of his hands heating up your sides while the pads of his digits squeezed your soft derm.
"I like you too." You whispered, almost afraid of your own words, but he was just marveled about how sensitive and sincere you sounded. "I'm in."
He offered you a gentle smile, warm and inviting, and you smiled back, your eyes crinkling at the corners. That sight reminded him of something.
"Take it off for me?" You looked confused at his request, a little curious pout on your lips. "The mask." Oh.
Carefully, your fingers reached for the black domino mask around his eyes. Even though you were excited to finally see what was under there for so long, you weren't hesitant. It peeled off easily, and you caught a glimpse of his temple once you started pulling it away ─ in five seconds, there he was. Jason.
He had black paint smeared around his eyes, but you could see him clearly even under the dim, warm lighting of your living room. You two were so close that you could see almost all of his lower eyelashes, but the top ones merged with the paint. You couldn't take that.
You wiped the oily paint away with the bottom of your shirt, just hoping it was washable. He simply let you. And in a minute, you finally had him there. All of him, all of his face.
"Your eyes are pretty." You murmured, hands now coming up to craddle his face. "Like, the shape."
"You think?" His voice was low and soft as he asked, and he received a nod in response. He loved when you complimented him, and you didn't do it often. "Kiss me?"
You just nodded again. You'd never dare refuse him. Your met him in a more certain kiss this time, now used to each others lips. He squeezed your waist once more, pulling you closer to him as the kiss intensified. Your clothed cores rubbed and chests pressed together with the movement, and you two grunted at the contact.
Your hands slid down to his shoulders, then to his biceps. You just had to grasp at them. And his own went up to your back, making you tingle. It was already too much, yet not enough.
You moved your hips against his, searching for more of that sensation from just a few seconds ago, and in no time, he was guiding the movements, his hands on your waist, moving you back and forth. The friction was delicious, and it made you both moan in each other's mouths, the sounds making everything so much more pleasant.
His mouth left yours only to press at your cheeks, going up to your temples, and then back down to kiss under your ear, then all over your neck. He just wanted to swallow you whole, but while he couldn't do that, he'd have to settle for kissing you all over.
He painted your neck with red marks, his lips sucking and leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he could reach. Your hands went to his hair, sometimes tugging at his locks, sometimes caressing his scalp. He couldn't get enough of your touch, of your body against his, of your skin. He needed you.
You kept moving against him, rubbing yourself on his crotch to try and soothe the want you felt inside. You couldn't feel that much through your pants. They were thick to keep you warm, but you felt hot enough already.
Jason's hands around your waist lifted you up from his lap with ease, then guided you down to lay on your back on the couch, and you pushed some pillows to the floor on the process so you could fit better. He straddled your hips and pulled his shirt off all while you stared up at him with your pretty eyes.
You didn't hold back when you felt the urge to touch him, your fingers tracing his abs so carefully, caressing all of the skin you could reach without sitting up. His skin was littered with scars, and the ugly gash from before was healing slowly ─ it was still a red, long scar on his chest, its color showing that it wasn't fully healed yet, but much better than before. It wasn't that deep of a wound, but with him constantly having people beat him, neither of you expected it to heal quick and gracefully.
"I want you." You murmured quietly, a little embarrassed of your own words, but they were the ultimate truth. You wanted Jason and anything he could offer to you at that moment.
His eyes followed your hands, and he placed one of his on top of yours, pressing your fingers against his skin. "I'm yours." He whispered, and you wondered if he meant right now or from now on.
You looked back up in his eyes, and you felt heat pooling at your lower belly when you noticed the look in them. Like he wanted to consume you, and you wanted him to. Right now.
His hands lifted your shirt, bunching it up past your chest as he leaned down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth while his fingers softly grazed the other, caressing it. You slipped your fingers in his hair again, pushing his head against you, and you felt him move his hips against yours once more.
With that, you could feel how much he wanted you as well, as the bulge in his thick pants pressed against you even through the heavy layers. You wanted those heavy layers off.
"Jason," you mumbled his name, hands gently squeezing his shoulders. "Take your pants off."
You heard him let out an amused huff at your request, and he went back up to his previous position, looking down at you. He guided your hands to his belt, and you knew what to do.
Swiftly, your fingers unbuckled it, pulled it out of the loops, and tossed it to the floor of your living room, you both heard as it landed on the mat with a soft thud. You went for his button next, then for the zipper. You caught a glimpse of his black boxers, salivating at the mere view of them.
He helped you push his pants down and then tossed them to the floor as well. When he was free of his, he yanked yours away without warning, making you let out a surprised yelp, in which he delighted himself.
He laughed at the sound you made while he removed your green socks, and you glared up at him for surprising you. "Not funny." You muttered, but he shrugged playfully at you.
He leaned down to nuzzle your neck after he removed your shirt as well, the gesture reaking of the affection he felt for you. His hands splayed on your stomach as his lips and nose caressed your senstive skin, and you squeezed at his arms, your legs sneaking past his and wrapping around his hips.
His hands went for your ankles, caressing the back of them as he dived back into your chest and then down to the valley in between your breasts, then to your stomach, and then to the place where you wanted him the most.
His hands went back up to your sides now, but he brought one down to caress you through your panties, brushing a finger over the damp spot in them, and then one over your clit. He smiled at how your thighs pressed on his shoulders and then at you when his eyes found yours.
He kept rubbing that same spot through the thin fabric, stimulating your clit, but not too much. He knew you wanted more, both of you did, but he wanted to savor that moment, and you appreciated that, even if you were dying for him to just pull those panties off and have his way with you.
Jason hooked one of his fingers onto the waistband of your underwear and finally pulled them off. Unlike the rest of his clothes, he didn't toss those on the floor, placing them on the beside you instead so you wouldn't have trouble looking for them later.
He looked down at you, exposed to him for the first time, his mouth salivating at the sight of you wet, swollen, and flush all because of him. He didn't have the strength to tease you anymore in that moment. He just dove in.
His hand that was toying with you before went back to your empty side, pulling your body closer to him so he could properly burrow his face in your pussy while he ate it, and then it moved to press at your lower stomach, urging your orgasm on. His tongue lapped at you, into your soaked folds and at your swollen bud, which he sucked so carefully to make you feel pleasure and only that.
He kept a steady rhythm, using your moans and gasps as a guide for his pace. Your fingers played with his hair while you rolled your hips against his face, rubbing your cunt on him, using his mouth for your pleasure. He was so good at that, at making you feel good.
He slipped his tongue inside of you once or twice to test the waters, and you whimpered at that. He couldn't wait to bury himself in you. He pulled away from your weeping cunt, only to slip his boxers off, revealing his flushed length.
You pushed up to your elbows to have a better view of him, and he looked divine from head to toe. The messy hair that you had been toying with, his flushed face, neck, and chest looked so good under the warm lighting of the room, his hard and leaking girth that looked like it was made to fit you, the pathetic needy expression on his face, and yours probably looked the same too.
He let you take your time, let you stare at him. Your eyes were hungry, and so here his. You looked all perfect down there, looking at him, with your cheeks flushed, lips parted, messy hair spilling on the pillow, your beautiful body and legs spread for him. God, he wanted you more than he ever wanted anything.
Jason licked his lips, and once he'd had enough of your staring contest, he pulled you closer again by the legs. He leaned down to capture your lips in a heated, needy kiss, each one of his hands being placed beside your head to support his body while it covered yours.
Your hips were aligned, and he purposefully let his throbbing cock brush your soaked heat, giving you a little taste. It all felt so good, so right. Your arms went around his neck while they could, tugging him close, pressing your chests together, squeezing your breasts against him.
"Pull out, right?" He mumbled into your mouth, his eyes looking hazy. You nodded lazily. "M'kay."
He reached down in betwen you, not wanting to separate his body from yours, he wanted to feel the heat of your chests together. Carefully, he slid the head of his dick in between your folds, dipping it in your juices and rubbing it on your clit to make you even more needy for it, and then slowly, he slid the tip into you, a satisfied groan leaving his mouth. It was surreal, it already felt so good and he wasn't even all the way in.
You sighed in satisfaction, your eyes closing and your head tipping back against the pillow. You scratched his back gently, the slow scrape of your nails on his skin matching the languid rhythm he used to slide into you, stretching out your channel with ease. You were so fucking wet. He was met with no resistance, you wanted him there.
Despite being your first time together, it didn't feel awkward. It didn't feel confusing or complicated. It was him and you, just like always. Comfortable.
He let you adjust to his size, his lips peppering your jaw with tender kisses as you got used to the stretch and waited for the mild burning sensation to cease. Felt so easy with him.
Jason felt you move against him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock, and he smiled on your soft skin. He pushed up again to look down at you, his arms still on either side of your head. With your legs around his hips, he started moving, meticulously thrusting into you, searching for the most sensitive spots, feeling every inch of your gummy, warm walls hugging his length.
It felt like heaven, finally being inside you. Everything with you was so good.
He picked up the pace as you started breathing heavier, your eyes closing as you let yourself enjoy every single thing about this moment, about him in you. Pistoning in and out of you in a needy rhythm, he grunted and groaned so deliciously, blessing your ears with his sounds.
You felt yourself nearing the edge even more with each thrust. It all felt so intense. He mirrored your feelings, his eyes squeezing shut as he held back his own release, trying to hold up so you could come together.
Neither of you could speak at that moment, not even to mumble words of praise, the pleasure consuming your minds with equal intensity, taking up every space in your brains. You couldn't delay it anymore.
Your walls clenched around him, and you gasped, whimpered, and moaned at the sensation. You couldn't control the sounds coming out of you. Your eyes closed once again as your lips stayed parted, heavy breaths coming out of them.
As you squeezed his cock in pleasure, Jason had to muster all of his self-control to be able to pull out of you before he spilled all of his seed inside of you and fucked everything up. He couldn't break your trust like that. He pulled out, and in less than a second, his white, hot, and thick cum spilled all over your stomach and pelvis. He'd never cum like that before, so desperately. The sounds he made while he let his liquid pour over your skin without even having to milk it out with his hand were ungodly, so fucking lewd.
"Fuck," Jason gasped, his head slumping forward as he panted on top of you. "S'good." He mumbled.
You cracked a small smile at that, fingers going back to scratching his back when you could finally concentrate on something other than your orgasm taking over your body.
"So good." You echoed, eyes closing as he rested his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in the mixture of your scent with the smell of sex in the air.
"I'm not moving from here." He warned in another lazy mumble, his arms snaking around your waist. You chuckled at him.
"Okay." You muttered softly, one of your hands going to play with his hair. "We'll stay here."
"We'll stay here." He echoed your words as well, letting out a tired yet satisfied sigh.
Your eyes drifted up for the window for a second, and you noticed it was snowing again outside. It was all so magical, even if you were feeling sweaty and sticky.
You sighed, the sight of the snow falling relaxing you as well as Jason's body on top of yours, warming you up.
Wait, was the window open all this time?
☆
a.n: hello! I hope this is cohesive enough and not too too fast. it's my first time ever writing smut, so i really wanted to focus on that. thanks for reading!
#jason todd#dc comics#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood#smut#i want him#i want his dick so far down my throat it leaves bruises
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hey bae! if you’re still taking requests could i please have something fluffy with mean! ellie and sensitive/soft! reader. it can be whatever u want, loving the pink theme btw 🎀⭐️!
CRYBABY! - (E.W)
pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.
synopsis: you’ve had a seriously bad day, and now you’re stuck with the shittiest person you’ve ever met while you wait for your friends to get home.
a/n: thank u for acknowledging the theme! it took so long to put together 😭. also i really hope this fulfills your request. would you guys want a part 2 w/ smut this time?
“crybaby, crybaby. we need to cry. and if we do, i know that would be alright.” — edit
masterlist.
ellie fucking williams was an exceptional singer, guitarist, and had incredible stage presence. but more importantly: she was an asshole. a complete fucking dick, and not just the usual “too good for everyone” cocky. she was crude. she was vulgar and she knew exactly how to push people, you specifically. sometimes you thought that she walked around asking for a fight to prove herself to people. now, you think it’s so she can finally feel something. even if it’s a mind spinning jab at her face.
you did your best to stay away from her, despite you sharing friends; jesse and dina. you knew exactly how she was and you knew you couldn’t handle it. no matter how many times you tried to let her little remarks brush past you, you always found yourself wanting to go lower. and each time you were around her it got harder to bite your tongue.
today was a bad day. a shit day. one of your worst. you found fraudulent activity on your bank card, got hit with a frustratingly large and urgent bill, and your washing machine broke. all in the span of an hour. the customers at your job had been extra rude and to make matters worse, your manager yelled at you for a mistake you didn’t even make.
all you wanted to do was go over to dina & jesse’s and eat brownies while they treated you like the child they’d yet to have. dina rubbing your back and reassuring you that everything will be okay while jesse threatens to beat all your enemies bloody. you use the spare key you have to their apartment to messily trudge in, kicking your shoes off at the door and smiling as you open the fridge to find dina’s special 1,000 hour brownies.
“i keep telling her she should put weed in those.” echoes behind you, causing you to pause mid bite. there she is, leaning against the counter. eyes smudged with her signature stage eyeliner, sweat glistening on her skin, a tank top and her stage cargos sagging on her waist. gargling down a plastic water bottle that had definitely seen better days.
“where are dina and jesse?” you furrow your brows closing the fridge. you grab a napkin to place the brownie on, and move further back near the door away from her. just in case.
“they went to go grab some groceries, but they told me to stay here and wait for you.” she answers, finishing the bottle off.
fuck. how long were they going to be gone? you couldn’t imagine spending more than 2 minutes alone with this loose lipped devil. her eyes narrow as she looks you up and down before smiling. here she goes.
“bad day? cause it looks like it.”
“well it definitely isn’t going to get better with you around me.” you snap back.
“ouch. i’m hurt.” she laughs. deviously. a hand over her chest as she pushes off the counter to chuck the empty bottle into the trash can.
you move over to the living room, sitting yourself on the couch. maybe if you ignore her she’ll get bored and leave you alone? maybe she’ll get so bored she’ll actually leave. god, please get the fuck out of here.
she follows you though, sitting way too close for comfort and turning on the tv. you pull your phone out, immediately opening tumblr and mindlessly scrolling. hoping that dina and jesse will be home soon.
“d tells me you stopped showing up to gigs because of me. is that true?” she breaks the silence between you two. you shrug her off. “you’re not the easiest person to be around, williams.” you state.
“so what’s wrong with me? i’d love to hear it straight from the horses mouth.” she scoffs, scooting closer. when you attempt to ignore her she pulls your phone out of your hand. staring into your eyes with her very own. piercing through your soul for a response. “is it because i called you an idiot?”
“among other things, but it doesn’t surprise me that that’s all you remember.” you reach for your phone but she pulls it back. this causes you to pinch her, and she smacks your hand away still holding your phone back. “remind me then.”
you feel her taunting tone. her want— need to push at you. to push your buttons and boundaries until you break. it’s like a game to her, and you certainly weren’t in the mood for it today.
“can you give me my phone so i can find out when dina and jesse are coming home?” you sigh. her behavior reminded you of a customer you’d had earlier who’d treated you like garbage because you weren’t smiling. you felt tears welling up but pushed them down. you never cried in front of ellie. because of her, maybe, but never to her face. you’d never live it down.
“can you answer my question? so i can apologize or whatever. d is really on my ass about it.”
you scoff. “ofcourse you aren’t genuinely sorry. you probably don’t even remember all the fucked up shit you say and do to people. half of the time you ignore me and the other half you treat me like i’m a burden. do you remember when you guys had your first real show? i told the security i knew you and you pretended like i was a stranger.”
“jesse was sooo pissed you didn’t show up.” she laughs. “did he yell at you?”
“yeah. thought i was lying because you told him i was. called me a shit friend and a liar until i showed him proof. why am i the only one you treat like this?”
“you’re definitely not the—“ you reach for your phone again, but she’s quicker than you. pushing you away and laughing at your lockscreen, which was a picture you’d taken of yourself. one you felt incredibly confident in. all of that confidence was withering away slowly and you could guess it’d only been 10 minutes. “only one.”
“that’s so much worse. seriously, i don’t have time for this today. i’ll just go home.” you sniffle and fail to hide it. the tears were in the back of your throat and you felt like her personal rag doll all over again. what you’d finally gotten away from the last week was haunting you all over again. her taunting, her rudeness. she knew what she was doing and she didn’t even care.
“are you gonna cry? am i making you cry?”
you gulp, biting your lip to fight the shakiness in your voice. “just give it back.” is all you can muster up. her arm stretches up and as you reach for it she tucks it in her back pocket and sits on it.
you feel the tears begin to spill out of your eyes and you quickly turn around and lean into the couches arm. hands over your face as you pathetically attempt to calm yourself. you feel a hand on your shoulder and you push it away before realizing it’s ellie handing you back your phone.
it takes you a couple blinks, convinced the tears have obstructed your vision. the very same ellie who’d tripped you in front of a crowd of people last month, was being nice? her face has softened, genuine concern replacing the taunting gaze she previously had. she places a hand on your back and shushes you.
“i’m sorry. i’ve never made you cry before, i’m sorry.” she speaks softly. she almost seems…confused? is this what it takes to get her to realize that what she does actually fucking hurts you? for you to break down in front of her? for her to get a peek at the silent nights you’d spent sobbing over another one of her “jokes”? all this time?
you wipe your eyes and begin to laugh, which startles her and causes her to lean back. “you’re such an ass, ellie. god, you’re such a fucking dick.” you shake your head and breathe. she doesn’t respond, just stares at you with concern. brows furrowed as she concentrates on your body language. the way you’re leaning closer towards her.
“today was such a bad day.” you cry out in frustration, dipping your head into her lap. you just lay there, sobbing. she doesn’t move you, but instead rubs your back. shushing you. whispering that it’ll be okay, and you’d never admit it because it was coming from her, but you really needed it in that moment.
she pulled you in closer to her, turning you onto your side so she can rub her thumb across your cheek. wiping some of your tears away. you begin to cry even harder, but she doesn’t push you away. even when her pants are soaked and snotty. she lets you lay there, and cry into her.
#bunnie can speak? ☆#ellie williams#・❥・ bun’s sweet ellie#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams headcanons#ellie williams imagine#bun’s asks ꕤ#bun’s anons ˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐#mean!ellie#ellie fanfic#ellie williams fanfic#williams ellie#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x f!reader#lesbian fanfic#wlw imagine#wlw fanfic#tlou headcanons#tlou fanfic#modern au#modern ellie#rockstar!ellie#ellie williams smut#ellie x you#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams the last of us#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader
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☆ making bad decisions for you ∘ b.c
chan fucked up, and now he's left to deal with the consequences. how does one find someone to help their sweet pup through her heat on such short notice? the first step: call jisung. the second step: stay on the straight path. he has this under control. at least that's what chan thinks, until you throw him a curve...
─── ☆ pairing: bang chan x fem!reader
─── ☆ length: 2.3k
─── ☆ warnings: puppy hybrid!reader, sub!reader, perv!chan, big dick chan, pillow humping, corruption, bondage, unprotected sex, breeding (like a lot), dirty talk, praise, pet names: baby, pup, puppy
─── ☆ note: 18+ minors dni. the characters don’t represent real idols; this is fiction for entertainment purposes only. fictional smut is not a reflection of real life ! always communicate with your partner and practice consensual and safe sex ‹33
© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.
Chan’s in over his head.
He knew this day would come. He should’ve been prepared. But he’s been so busy lately, and he didn’t keep track of your cycle — fuck, if only he could physically beat himself up for being the world’s shittiest owner.
And of course he can’t find the informational flyers anywhere, and he doesn’t trust the internet, the advice varying so wildly he isn’t sure what to believe. He could call the shelter, but he doesn’t want them to find out he messed up. What if they take you away from him?
So he calls the only experienced person he can think of: Jisung.
“I really don’t know what to do, Han, fuck! Please help…”
“Take a deep breath, it’ll be alright. It’s not your fault there’s a suppressant shortage. You sure you don’t want to…?”
“I can’t, it’s… it’s wrong,” Chan feels the panic rising in his chest again. He takes another gulp of air to calm his shaky nerves.
“Fine, okay, it was just a suggestion! No need to yell at me, lemme look into it. I'll find a stud for her and come over as soon as my shift’s done, okay? You try to stay calm in the meantime and do exactly as I've told you to. Can you do that?”
“I’m sorry, it’s - I’m a mess, I should’ve seen it coming, but thank you, Ji. Thank you. I owe you one.”
“No worries, bro. Good luck. Call me if you need any help.”
The call disconnects and Chan is left standing alone in the empty bathroom, his heart galloping in his chest. He failed you. But he needs to be there for you now. He's not proud of what he’s about to do, but you’ll understand. He has no other choice. When this is all over you’ll understand. Please, you have to…
“Please forgive me, Y/N,” he whispers and unlocks the door.
As soon as he steps out of the bathroom Chan’s thrown off balance by your body slamming into his. “Channie, sir, please,” you whimper, pressing yourself tighter against his side and wrapping your arms around his neck. Chan feels a blush rise to his cheeks and turns his head away, swallowing harshly.
“Let’s go to your bedroom, pup.”
You yelp excitedly and dart off, throwing yourself on the bed. Your tail wags against the sheets and Chan can’t help but smile. When he was a little kid he always thought he’d get a wolfdog hybrid, or a big husky, but then he saw you at the shelter: a little cream coloured mutt with soft ears and a fluffy tail, and he knew he had to bring you home.
You’re watching him rummage through his nightstand, head cocked and ears pointed. “‘t hurts, Channie, please hurry,” you roll on your back and stay there, skirt sliding down your thighs and almost exposing your panties. Chan coughs.
“I know, baby, Channie’s here to make it all better,” he mumbles and fishes a pair of padded handcuffs out of the drawer. “Just give me your hands, okay?”
You give him a puzzled look but comply, letting him attach the cuffs to the headboard. “I'm so sorry, puppy, I'm sorry,” he whispers, avoiding your eyes.
Then he turns around and hurries out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft but resolute thud.
Your frustrated howls are loud enough to reach the living room and he flinches. Every noise you make pierces his soul and adds to the pool of guilt in his gut. He had to do it, Jisung told him so — keep her safe, tie her up somewhere, otherwise she might hurt herself. It’s for her best interest.
Chan knows, but why does it hurt him so much? He checks his phone, looking for a distraction. Two hours left until Jisung’s shift is done. Surely he can find a stud before the end of the day, right? Jisung knows so many people. He said everything would be fine. Chan just has to relax and trust him.
He takes another deep breath and turns on the tv, mindlessly going through the channels. He checks his phone again. 5 minutes have passed. Time’s never felt this slow.
Eventually he settles on a documentary about tiger hybrids. He almost succeeds in focusing on the (terrible but entertaining) storyline when he notices your howls have changed into softer, breathier sounds. They almost sound like… moans? Chan thinks. He feels his cock stir. He shifts on the couch and stares at the tv, but the screen is a blur and he doesn’t hear a word the voiceover says.
The noises continue and Chan grows more restless. How…? He looks at his phone again. 90 minutes left.
With growing curiosity, Chan’s feet lead him to your bedroom almost involuntarily. Your noises have grown softer, little moans and whimpers drifting through the door. With a quiet click he opens it and peeks his head around.
You’re sitting on the bed, awkwardly positioned with your hands still chained to the headboard. Somehow you’ve managed to maneuver one of the pillows between your spread knees. You’re grinding down on it, fluffy tail causing your skirt to ride up. From his position in the doorframe Chan catches a glimpse of your white panties hugging your ass.
The noises you’re making range from whiny to plain frustrated, the friction not enough to satisfy you. When you bend over to try and find a better position, Chan sucks in a breath, cock swelling at the sight of your soaked panties. You’re so wet the gusset has become almost see through, clinging to the outline of your pussy.
Chan shouldn’t be here. He should leave before you notice him, before it’s too late. He should go back to the living room, put on his headphones and wait for Jisung to arrive. Let him sort it out. Get you a handsome dog hybrid to help you through your heat.
“Chan?” your voice is soft, halting his train of thought. “Please…”
He’s not sure if it’s your broken plea or something else that compels him to move, but Chan steps into your room. Your tail starts to wag slowly and you drop to your elbows, presenting yourself to him. From this distance Chan can see the tantalizing curve where your thighs meet your ass, the spot he wants to lick and suck and tease…
“‘s okay, puppy, Channie’s here.” There’s still time to leave. But you’re looking back at him with your pretty eyes — how could he say no to his sweet pup? He wants to protect you. Keep you safe. Jisung and his stud be damned.
“I’m so sorry I did this to you, Y/N. I panicked.”
His hand strokes your thigh and you sigh into his touch. “Don’t leave me again, Channie. Promise.”
Chan shakes his head. “It was a mistake, I promise, I’m here with you now pup. Let me help you.”
You mewl when his fingers graze your clothed slit. “Sir, ‘s hurting, don’t make me wait any longer, need you to breed me now, please,” you trail off, grinding back against his hand.
Normally Chan would take his time to explore your body, tease you until you’ve cum at least twice before he’d give you his cock. But he hears the urgency in your voice, your pained little whimpers as you tug at your restraints.
And it’d be a lie to say he hasn’t fantasized about this before. Late at night in his own bedroom while he tried to muffle his moans, unsure of what your sensitive ears could pick up.
Chan slides your panties down your thighs with shaky hands. Your pretty cunt’s all puffy and glossy with your slick and it drips down his fingers when he pushes two inside.
Your reaction is instantaneous, a pleasant gasp as you arch your back for him. “Need more, need your cock, need it now,” you plead again.
“You sure you can take it, puppy?”
Chan rolls his plush bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t want to hurt you.
“‘Mmm don’t care, make it fit,” you pout and wag your tail for him, “Channie.”
He’ll never tire of hearing his name like this. A broken sound, filled with so much need it goes straight to his head.
He chucks off his pants and his boxers, hard cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen. He slides the tip over your slit to wet it, holding your hips to keep you still. Then he sheathes himself in your dripping heat inch by inch, whispering soft praises into the air between you.
“Just like that, puppy, don’t move. Gonna fill you up so good baby, let me take care of you.”
Chan knows he’s big, watches your pretty hole stretch to accommodate him. He groans at how wet and warm you feel. It’s even better than he imagined. When you shift forward on your knees he growls, “Where do you think you’re going, pup? I'm not even halfway in yet.”
He pushes in deeper, watches you arch your back even more. “Channie, so full,” you pant when he finally bottoms out, stilling for a moment to catch his breath. The sensation of your soft, velvety cunt around him is overwhelming all his senses.
“Yeah? Is my puppy nice and full?”
“Wanted - wanted this for so long,” you say and his heart makes a little leap. He knows it’s just your heat-clouded mind talking, the hormones making you more susceptible to his presence. But there’s a small part of him that dares to hope you’re speaking the truth.
“Yah - wanted my sir, my Channie,” you nod when he starts moving, holding tight onto the handcuff’s chain. He briefly considers removing them, but you don’t seem to mind being tied up like this, pushing back on his cock like the neediest little thing he’s ever seen.
My Channie.
“I want you too, Y/N,” he groans and you hum at the sound of your name. “Can’t stay away from you - my pretty baby… knew it from the day I brought you home.”
You’re moaning every time his hips meet yours, soft uh-uh-uh’s like music to his ears. Your pussy is gushing around his length, and Chan’s not sure how long he’s going to last if you keep clenching down on him like this.
“Fuck, puppy - you’re hugging my cock so tight,” he lands a playful smack on your ass, “want me to breed you that bad, huh? Want me to stuff you full with pups?”
He tilts your hips to reach even deeper, fat cock slamming into you with force. You’re slumping against the mattress and he hovers over your back to nip at your ear, eliciting another moan from you. The soft fur of your tail tickles his abs but Chan is too focused on the erratic pulsing of your walls around him.
“Are you going to cum for me, baby? I can feel you’re close, just let go. I’ve got you. Channie’s got you. My good girl.”
You sob and he feels your release gush around him, fucking you through your high with renewed vigor. You’re a blabbering mess, unable to form words except for “Channie,” “please,” and “fuck.”
“Did my puppy lose her tongue?” He grins. “Getting all dumb on my cock after one orgasm, and I haven’t even bred you yet, baby.”
“Please…need it,” you whisper into the sheets, “need you to cum inside, please, sir.”
Even with his weight pressing you into the bed you’re still angling your hips up more, and Chan buries his face into the crook of your neck. You smell so good, like vanilla and the heady scent of sex. “I always keep my promise, pup, I’m going to breed you so well you’ll feel it dripping out of you for the next three days.”
You turn your head just enough to catch his gaze, your eyes so glossy and fucked-out Chan loses all composure. He ruts into you one, two more times before ropes of thick cum paint your inner walls and tumble you headfirst into another orgasm.
His thighs are shaking, your cunt milking him of every last drop until he’s a panting mess on top of you. For a moment the two of you lay still, breathing heavily, until Chan realizes you’re still chained to the bed. He pulls out and you mumble something when you feel his cum drip out of you, rubbing your thighs together.
Chan unclasps the handcuffs and kisses your wrists, hugs you close and captures your lips with his own. They’re so soft, needy little sounds already escaping you again as you rut against his thigh. “Need more, Channie.”
“Insatiable little thing,” he grins and traces your puffy cunt with his fingers. “Can’t get enough, can you?”
He slips one finger in your sensitive hole just as the doorbell rings. You look up in surprise, eyes wide and ears darting in all directions.
Chan kisses you again. “Ignore the bell, pup. I’m not going anywhere. Made a promise, remember? Need to breed you nice and round. Maybe make you beg a little more for it,” he chuckles, “let me see how needy you can really get.”
You’re grinding down on his thigh now and Chan doesn’t care how long he has to stay here with you, he’ll give you whatever you want. He’ll spend days holed up inside your nest if he has to.
You grab his shirt and pull him closer, and the blaring sound of his ringtone rips him out of his reverie.
He rolls over with a groan and hits the green button, cutting off Jisung’s voice. “It’s already taken care of, Ji. Thank you.”
“Wha —? You sly dog!”
Chan throws his phone into a corner and rolls you onto your back, slotting himself between your thighs with a smile. “Don’t worry, pup. I won’t let anyone else touch you ever again.”
© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.
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