#my man was so red i was genuinely concerned

[yuzuvrse]

softly, sweetly

daisuke's there for you when you can't sleep.

daisuke (mouthwashing) x fem!reader, comfort/fluff, not exactly canon-compliant

“Daisuke…” You murmur, tapping his shoulder gently, “You awake?” “Hmm…? What is it?” His voice is hoarse, tinged with sleep as he wakes up. “Sorry…” You press your face into his back, his familiar scent washing over you and calming your nerves, but it clearly doesn’t work well enough, because barely a second passes before you’re sniffling. “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” The man rolls over to face you, his brown eyes flooding with concern. “I…” You look up at him and you don’t even know how to string your jumbled thoughts together into coherent sentences – are you all stuck here forever? Will you ever see your family again? Is this where you're going to die?

You finally settle on a broken “I want to go home…”, your eyes filling with a fresh wave of tears. Now you’re crying freely, desperately burying your face in his chest to muffle your sobs lest you wake the others. “Oh, baby…” The pet name slips past his lips accidentally as he cradles your face in his large hands, thumbs calloused from working under Swansea swiping away at your tears, “Shh… it’s okay, let it out.”

Finally, your sniffles turn to hiccups, and then you fall silent. “We’re going to get home, okay? Swansea’s working on getting the cryopods free, remember? By the time 20 years pass, we’ll be back home!” Daisuke does his best to comfort you, one hand wrapping around your waist to pull you impossibly closer and ground you with his warmth. His lips crack into a playful smile, “By then, you’ll be a granny~” That pulls a laugh out of you, “Shut up, you’re older than me. You’ll be a great-grandpa!” The two of you snicker quietly, shattering the tense silence in the room. The walls are awash in orange and red hues, painting a brilliant sunset on his features – he really is your sun.

Daisuke cups your cheek with one hand, and your eyes flutter shut as you nuzzle into his touch. It makes his breath catch in his throat, the absolute trust you place in him to be this vulnerable even as your life is up in the air – does he even deserve this? His free hand traces the contours of your face, learning every curve and dip and freckle, staring at you as if to commit your visage to memory. “Don’t stare,” you giggle softly as you open your eyes again. “I can’t help it…” His voice is almost breathless, “You’re so pretty.” A soft gasp escapes you, your cheeks heating up at his simple yet genuine compliment. He smiles, and his eyes are filled with adoration as his gaze sweeps over your features; you really are so beautiful. The gentle intimacy makes warmth blossom in your chest, and you envelope his hand with yours, turning your face ever so slightly to press a gentle kiss to his palm. 

“A-ah?!” Daisuke's eyes widen, almost bugging out of his head, but then his expression softens into one so incredibly tender it feels criminal to witness this moment while the ship hangs frozen in space. Can it be right to love someone under such circumstances? Or is it love precisely because it persists despite the circumstances? He presses his lips to the top of your head, resting his chin there as you tuck yourself into the crook of his neck. “I’m glad you’re here, Daisuke,” you whisper, savouring the feeling of your body slotted against his, two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly as the world falls apart around them. “I’m so glad you’re here too,” He kisses the crown of your head once more, drawing circles on your lower back with his free hand, “Now go to sleep, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“You’ll always be there, won’t you?” 

“I will, baby.”

( He lied. )

kira's notes ; first post on this acc yippee! and also first contribution to the mouthwashing fandom... i am so deeply obsessed w this man and this game it is Insane. my writing skills are vv rusty so plz bear with me while i get back into the swing of things,,, anyways i hope u liked this hehe <3

[brunette-gremlin]

the real hero of the lighthouse was none other than luke for saving his friend sam from an aneurysm, stroke, and a heart attack occurring at the same time by ending the damn play

[tubbytarchia]

I don't know what this is all I know is that LimL Joel makes me really emotional

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Found this while going through my fanfic files, and i absolutely had to share.

Danny: i want in

Red robin: …what?

Danny: your bat family. I want in.

Red robin, blinking in surprise: i dont know what you think you know about my associates, but we're not-

Danny: dont be obtuse. I know youre the smart one. And i also know that your all one big relatively happy family. I want in.

Red robin: …why?

Danny: because you guys are the first people ive found that are wealthy, intelligent and powerful enough to take on my fruitloop godfather and win AND are decent enough human beings that i can be assured that when all is said and done, my well-being will remain a top priority.

Orphan, appearing out of nowhere: new brother!

Danny: *stares in shock*

Danny: *sudden uncanny grin* well that's one convinced. How do i win over the rest?

Orphan: no need. New brother!

Red robin: *pointed glance of betrayal* fine. Who is your godfather?

Danny: vlad masters. He's a fruitloop.

Red robin: for real? B's been investigating him for years! Tell me everything! *genuinely excited for a new lead*

Danny: well, he's tried to murder my dad and marry my mom, gained his wealth illegally, committed voting fraud to become the mayor of my hometown, has a secret underground lab where he does unethical experiments, and he's abducted me more than a dozen times even before my parents disowned me to make me his evil apprentice or whatever. Now that im homeless, he's literally out to get me. Oh! And he's cloned me too! She's cool though, we're buddies now.

Batman, who just arrived but heard everything over comms: hn. (Translation: who are you?)

Danny: my name is Danny. No last name anymore, but im hoping itll soon be Wayne! *winking suggestively*

Batman: hn? (how much do you know?)

Danny: enough to know that youre a much better alternative to vlad.

Batman: …hn (i dont know anything about you. What if youre a spy for vlad?)

Danny, giving his salesman pitch: i was a teen vigilante in amity park before i had to run away from home for my own safety. Vlad is one of my rogues. I know how to fight and defend myself, how to minimize collateral damage in a fight, and ive gotten really good and escaping kidnapping attempts. Ive also managed to reform and/or make allies out of approximately half of my rogues and can talk down about 30% of all rogue confrontations before they turn into a messy fight. The other things i can bring to the table are: one, i can teach all of you guys proper liminality self care; two, i can probably minimize and possibly cure red hood's anger issues; three, i can get along with stabby robin because i consider fighting a friendly social interaction - he can even stab me and i wont be injured by it; four, i can be your go-to guy for supernatural cases so you no longer have to deal with that sad trenchcoat man; five-

Red robin: *blurting* youre hired.

Batman: hn (i am deeply concerned)

Danny: if youre concerned now, wait until i tell you about the anti ecto control act

Nightwing, who showed up in the middle of the sales pitch: ive never seen anyone crack B's grunt language so quickly

Danny: grunt language? He's just using ghost speak - which will be covered by the liminality self care lessons

Robin, who arrived with batman: what is a liminal?

Danny: all of you, of course! Otherwise you wouldnt need to learn about it, obviously

Robin: and why would we trust you?

Danny: did i mention i have a pet ghost dog?

Robin: …you drive a hard bargain

Danny, fist pumping: yes! That's three!

Nightwing: four, you got me when you could understand B's grunting

Red Hood, arrived with nightwing: five, assuming you arent lying about the pit rage

Danny, hand to his chest: i would never!

Orphan: honesty. Earnest. New brother.

Oracle, over comms: six. The anti ecto acts are legit and im terrified for his safety, assuming he's phantom, who is the vigilante of amity park

Spoiler, arrived with orphan: seven, as long as youre down for a few pranks

Batman: hn (ive been outvoted)

Batman: hnn (i dont wanna hear any jokes about adoption habits when you all forced my hand)

Batman: hn (that said)

Batman: welcome to the family

Duke, the next day: man, i miss out on everything exciting.

Duke, blinded by danny: and who the fuck told bruce he could adopt the fucking sun?!

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.

Synopsis: Sukuna’s talking to his therapist in jail about you. He’s incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.

An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.

Session one. | Session two.

His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.

He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapist’s credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukuna’s crimes.

Normally, the therapist wouldn’t read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna… how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.

He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.

Simple counseling wasn’t going to “fix” a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.

Sukuna could taste the therapist’s fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. “You don’t even want to try to fix me, do you?” He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel bad~”

The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. “I can’t fix anyone… Counseling isn’t about fixing.. It’s about moving forward and learning how to live.”

“Bullshit.” Sukuna spits with shrug. “Counseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that you’re going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?”

The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. “Our past can help us navigate to a better future.” He murmured out weakly.

Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. “You’re a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? I’ll tell you.”

After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, “You know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.”

“I think that’s when my ‘type’ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.” Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.

“Y/n?” The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.

Sukuna’s red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. “Say her name again, and I’ll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers won’t be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.”

The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but he’s frozen in fear.

“We’ll call her mouse.” Sukuna goes on as if he didn’t just threaten the poor guy’s life in brutal detail.

“Mouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent — only answering me with simple head gestures.” He laughs again, lying his head back further as he’s replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.

“I can’t exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasn’t in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldn’t talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.”

The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesn’t feel safe in this session, and he doesn’t trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.

“Looked at you like what?” The therapist dared to ask.

Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. “She looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes… were so big and round. Even though she didn’t talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.”

The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.

The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.

“I bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.” Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, “I remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.”

The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victim’s blood.

-ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ

His victim’s - their deaths were like an homage to you.

“Were the kids ever… assholes to mouse?”

Sukuna’s jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapist’s questions… thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.

“They called her weird for not talking.” Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. “Now look at who can’t talk.”

Sukuna’s first victim. He didn’t start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.

He held a kid down to the teacher’s in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldn’t scream or cry for help, or else he’d risk ripping the flesh on his lips.

The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.

“Did mouse witness you do that?” The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukuna’s narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.

“No. Why would I scare her like that?” Sukuna’s voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.

The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. “Scare? No.. no, I thought you’d maybe just show off what you did for her.”

“I’m not the type to show off.” Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if that’s the first time Sukuna’s lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.

“Anyways, I wore her down over the years. She didn’t speak to me until we were in sixth grade.” An eerie smile curls on Sukuna’s lip. “I can still remember her first word to me and how she said it…”

The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.

Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. “Her first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.”

Bang! Bang Bang!

The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.

“Ryomen! Your time is up!” The officer yelled on the other side of the door.

“Pity. I was beginning to have fun.” Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. “See you next week, doc.”

[amandabbbbb]

summary: after the scene where ward drops rafe at barry’s and tells him to not come home but barry’s sister pogue!reader tries to comfort him even though rafe is soo mean to her like woah but it’s a happy ending

tw: mention of drugs, idk rafe cries a lot, parental issues, rafe calls reader kid and bitch once

word count: 762

“don’t come home, son,” ward says, his voice cold and final, as he walks away from his only son.

“where do you want me to go?”

“dad! dad!” rafe’s desperate calls echo into the night, but ward doesn’t look back, leaving rafe alone in the darkness in front of barry’s and your house.

“hey, barry, open the fuckin door! i know you got the coke, dude, come on. please just open up!” he’s begging on the verge of tears. “barry, if you don’t open this god damn door, i’ll fucking smash it down myself. i need coke, man!”

you slowly open the door, and before he even sees you, rafe shoves his way inside, causing you to stumble back slightly. he collapses onto the couch, his movements frantic and erratic. “barry, what took you so long? christ, give me your best coke. i need that shit now, dude” he demands, his voice thick with barely-contained emotion. when he finally looks up and sees you instead of barry, he quickly swipes at the tears streaming down his face, trying to hide his vulnerability.

“oh, hi, rafe! sorry, i had my headphones on. wanna listen? oh my god, are you crying?” you ask, your voice laced with genuine concern.

“no, jesus fuck, y/n, where’s your brother?”

“oh, um, i think he’s down by the shipyards doing a deal. sorry, rafey,” you say, offering a gentle smile.

rafe pulls himself up quickly, furiously searching for the drugs he so desperately craves. “where’s his coke? i know you know where he keeps it. go find it. don’t just stand there helplessly. you’re so goddamn stupid! fuck!”

“why are you being mean to me? you’re never mean to me… i don’t know where barry keeps the coke, rafe.”

he yells at the top of his lungs, “it’s like you have no fuckin brain. you’re just a useless dumb blonde.” (sorry i’m blonde)

the harsh words cut through you, and you can’t bear his anger. you turn and flee to your room, tears pricking your waterline, blurring your vision as you go.

your whole teenage years, you knew rafe as your older brother’s richest client, who he secretly would rip off. but as the years went by, he started buying barry’s more hardcore drugs, not just weed. you got to know rafe more as barry’s regular client. he would constantly stick around, always flirting with you and bringing you gifts when barry wasn’t looking.

“y/n, don’t shut me out. don’t be a bitch, come on, open the door. i need the coke. you don’t understand, help me here, okay,” he pleads.

you’re scared. you’ve never seen him like this; he’s always treated you like a princess. you yell as he bangs at your thin bedroom door, pushing the wood so hard it starts to crack. “go home, rafe!” your voice shaky and filled with fear.

the banging stops suddenly, your words echoing in the sudden silence. the quiet stretches on, each second feeling like an eternity. cautiously, you peek out of your bedroom door thinking maybe he finally listened to your advice. “rafe, you there?” you call out.

he’s sitting on your couch, tears running down his face, hyperventilating. “i can’t go home. i’m a liar, an addict, a thief, and i can’t be trusted, so my dad said he can’t have me in his house. i have nowhere to go.”

you slowly approach the couch where rafe sits, his face hidden in his hands. his body is shaking, and the room is filled with the sound of his ragged breaths. “rafe…” you say softly, your voice trembling as you try to offer some comfort. “you, um, can stay here tonight.”

he looks up at you, his eyes red and desperate, filled with a depth of pain you’ve never seen in him before. “i don’t deserve you, kid. fuck, i’m so sorry. i never wanted you to see me like this. i thought i had everything under control, but now you probably hate me or some shit…”

you sit beside him, offering a soft, reassuring smile. you put your hand in his. “it’s okay rafey. i could never hate you. we all have moments when shit falls apart. it doesn’t change how i see you. you’re tired. i’ll set up the couch for you.”

rafe’s eyes search yours, a flicker of regret softening his expression. “i didn’t mean to take it out on you,” he says, his voice low and raw. “i just… i don’t want to be alone. y’know, on the couch. not tonight.” the words hang in the air, heavy with his unspoken need to hold you tonight.

[gloomwitchwrites]

What If 141 and the best enemies to lovers line of all time...

"Who did this to you?"

Cue protective instincts and sexiness

hehe I am giggling!! Okay. Listen. I am fully aware that this is an enemies to lovers trope, but I don't think it applies to all of the 141 guys in that manner. Is there protectiveness? Yes. Is there a bit of spice? Yes, if you squint really hard. Is there also some sweetness thrown in? Absolutely there is. I had lots of fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x 141!Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief blood and injury, hurt/comfort, brief suggestive themes, protectiveness, light angst

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Who did this?” Kyle bends forward at the waist, pressing a bag of frozen peas to your face. His concern is genuine. You can see that, but it’s strange. The two of you get on, but this is something else.

Kyle looks…angry like your injury personally offends him.

“It’s nothing,” you murmur. “Things happen during sparing. It’s fine.”

Kyle’s frown only deepens. He doesn’t believe you. And why should he? The person you were placed with took it too far. And it was all to impress him as if putting you in your place would somehow grant his favor.

It’s clearly done the opposite. He could care less about your sparring partner.

“It was your sparring partner, wasn’t it?”

You don’t answer. Just press the peas to your forehead a little harder.

This time, Kyle’s frown turns slightly upward. “Jokes on them, ya?”

You glance at him sideways. “How so?”

Kyle is grinning. It’s stunning. All pearly white teeth.

“Because I have my eye on someone else,” he says simply, as if that answers everything.

Though you cannot see yourself, you feel your face growing hot under Kyle’s gaze.

“You shouldn’t say thing like that,” you reply.

“Why? It’s true.”

John Price

“Who did this?”

“Why do you care so much, John?”

You attempt to pull your face out of his grasp but he holds firm.

“Of course I care,” he replies. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. John is close. Too close. So close he could easily brush his lips against yours.

“I don’t know why,” you murmur.

“You do,” he affirms, authority in his tone.

Do you? Maybe. Perhaps. Deep within yourself you truly know the reason but can’t decide to speak it to the air. That would make this real. Whatever this is between the two of you.

‘Tell me who did this?”

“And do that what?”

“What the fuck I want to them, love.”

“It’s nothing. You shouldn’t worry about it,” you reply, again trying to escape from him.

But John isn’t having it. His other hand hooks around your upper arm, and then you’re pressed closed to him. He is so warm. All strength.

“Let go,” you say, but there is no volume behind it. It is weak. Not even a protest.

“Tell me,” he repeats, head dipping slightly.

Yes. Close enough to kiss.

“Tell me,” he says again, this time softer.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s blood beats heavy. It is tinged with metal. A lace of fire that cannot abate.

His boots slap against the linoleum floor. The overhead lights are bright. Clinical. He is a shadow here. A dark specter.

No one stops him. No one glances his way.

And why should they?

He is a man made fury.

There were hands put upon you. A training exercise taken too far. Simon was not there. And he doesn’t know why. Not exactly. But he’s furious. Protective. The fact that he could not stop this only infuriates him further.

To him, this is a failure.

He doesn’t come to a stop. Doesn’t knock. He barges right on in.

The nurse yelps. Spins suddenly. Face red.

You glance up, eyes wide at first but soothing slightly as they land on Simon. You’re bruised. Stitched up.

Fucking hell.

“Out,” barks Simon.

The nurse leaves but stares him down the entire time. He approaches the table, and lightly brushes the backs of his fingers against the wound on your forehead.

“Who did this?” he asks.

“Simon—”

“Which fucker?” he growls, bending forward slightly to look into your eyes.

“Should see the other guy,” you joke, smiling.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. You’re not his. Even if he wishes it were so.

Every swing of his fist sends the building frustration outward, shooting into the massive boxing bag before him. It’s a poor substitute for the face he truly wants to smash. Several faces that is. Two specifically.

Who did this?

The words slipped from him unbidden. An instant anger. You had only scowled. Told him you could handle yourself. And you can. Johnny knows this. But he’s still fucking pissed about it. Still seething.

All the fucker got was a quick slap on the wrist. A promise to not do it again.

That sits sour in Johnny’s belly.

But you didn’t cave, no matter how much Johnny insisted that he’d take care of it on your behalf. So he is here, punching the shit out of something that isn’t flesh.

He wishes he could take away your pain. Take away the memory. Give it to himself to carry. You don’t turn on your own. There’s no honor in what happened.

But as much as he wants it to be true, Johnny can do nothing.

You are not his.

Even if he wants to be.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @heeheehoohoohahahihi @eternallyvenus @burn1ngw00d @taysarchive

[r1elle]

desperate male lead syndrome is making a strong comeback in 2024 and i’m here for it!! so i wrote about this annoying loser (your honour i love him so much)

husband atsumu drabble because this is what the people want ^^ (i’m people)

“baby, don’t go looking at yer’ poor husband like that..” atsumu pouts, poking your cheeks at the sight of your evidently disdained face.

okay. you could go do that. you could also just forget the broken ceramic on the floor, still not cleaned up because atsumu would rather make amends with you first than cleaning up the potential risk that was right infront of you both.

honestly, you couldn’t tell whether you should be glad, or concerned.

“i’m not mad at you,’ you say, the expression on your face clearly betraying your words. “don’t worry about it, atsumu.”

you thought that maybe your words would ease the blonde man’s resolve, however it seemed to have only made it worse for him.

“atsumu?! no baby, no love, no ‘tsumu?!” he stresses, hands going up to his mouth.

you stare at his rather dramatic delivery,—and was that the life in his eyes flying away?? he looks like a modern rendition of casper the ghost.

“i’ll do the dishes for a week, no,—a month! i’ll buy ya’ those heels ya’ told me not to buy at the mall!!” atsumu frantically spouts, saying anything he could think of as he continues to cling onto your figure, his face mushing onto your neck and shoulder area.

you shut your eyes. just.. how could you stay annoyed? look at his pouty face, how his ears seemed to be more red than the rest of his skins current complexion. he practically made it impossible for you to even be the least bit mad, and you would’ve felt as guilty as a convict for even attempting to do so. that’s the kind of effect he had on you.

in response, you merely sigh. but there wasn’t any bark to it. “or, you could clean up the shattered pot on the floor.” you say, making sure to bring your tone to a more gentle and reassuring one.

atsumu turns to at you once again, his blonde locks tickling your skin as he moves.

“yer’ not mad anymore?” he beams. “i mean, we could always make another pot, right? how ‘bout it?” he says, hopeful eyes staring directly to your orbs.

in all realness, you genuinely weren’t mad at him, —(as much as he would sulk and say you definitely were), no. you were just sad at the fact that you and atsumu’s ceramic that you both had worked so hard to sculpt and paint on your first date was now shattered on the floor, all but beyond repair.

“i was never mad at you, promise.” you say. “just a bit disappointed. i liked that pot a lot, you know.” your hand reaches for atsumu’s cheek, pinching it slightly. physical touch always seemed to reassure him more than anything else.

atsumu mentally notes that he should make you breakfast in bed the following morning as he stares at your affirming expression. he plants various of pecks on your face after doing so.

“i’m sorry, princess.” atsumu coo’s, his hand pushing away the little hairs on your forehead as he plants a kiss on it.

“i’ll make it up to ya’, i promise.”

— • —

now, you know that you most definitely shouldn’t be all too surprised, considering that, well, —this was miya atsumu we were talking about,

but seriously….

you stare at the little bundle of fur politely sitting on your lap as you rub your eyes, just having come out of your nights sleep. you also happen to notice the smell of pancakes and hot chocolate coming from the bedside table.

“ ‘tsumu, where—?..no, when did you get this dog?”

“i have my ways.” he proudly grins. “but look, it’s yer’ favourite breed!”

“….yes, i know. but where did you—“

“we have a daughter now, hehe.”

“since when did i agre—“

“so adorable, definitely takes after her mommy and daddy. look at the bow on her head!”

“ ‘tsum-“

“i love you.”

“dont change the subject!”

——————————————————————————

atsumu brainrot is real and clocking me out (kageyama i can explain)

update: TYSM for 1k+ notes omg ??!! thank u all for loving this loserboy with me i feel so heard 😢😢🙏🏽

[cheemscakecat]

Fun/Interesting details in Expiration Date

Heavy knows that Pauling is calling them, and lets Scout be the one to answer. Also, road safety because he’s not distracted driving.

Medic is so hyped about tumor bread.

Hoovy smelling the sandwich and deciding it’s safe to eat [or that it doesn’t matter at this point].

Pyro standing like that. He don’t know what’s going on, but he’ll still be polite. Also, Sniper just chillin in the back with a poker face the whole time.

Medic smiles at Soldier as they walk past. Engineer’s got that Conhager death-cheating focus at the moment.

Spy’s eyes widen angrily when he realizes it’s Scout at the door and then he smirks like; “Oh hi! Twelve hours was enough time for you to get bored of my absence, then?”, not expecting a sincere apology [maybe one orchestrated by the other teammates, but not Scout].

There was some vitriol behind that “***”, look at his nose. He does not want Scout to gloat, try to prank him again, or give a fake apology. And that’s valid, since the team dying is something Scout should have taken seriously, and the last wishes handled with respect. He crossed a line that Spy doesn’t take lightly.

Dad, I threwed up. But in all seriousness, that’s the “My family is dysfunctional, and I don’t know how to be emotionally honest with people” posture.

See my bucket scene analysis for more on these two.

He didn’t say “You’re terrible with girls” in a snide or smug tone, he said it with like actual parental concern. “Scout, no you have three days! Do you want to die rejected or die before you can enjoy being together? No. Don’t do this to yourself.”

Look at that cup, he did not need a refill. This fake smirk and disinterest is Spy’s way of checking how serious Scout is about this last wish and taking his advice. And when he goes “This never leaves this room” Spy perks up.

Medic was taking a sample of bread tumor puss [or injecting it with something].

They have a whole entire wrestling ring, how did I never notice that?

This is one of those multiple choice questions where you can choose more than one answer and have it be right. But the chicken in combination with the other options looses you points, and just taking the chicken is like the token wrong answer.

Spy sighs when he realizes Scout chose just the chicken. Like chile, I gave you multiple options and you still went with your go-to that doesn’t work!

This room has a gym floor, which implies Spy took a bunch of fancy stuff from one of his rooms just for this date training. Also shoutout to the other teammates for helping with this.

Okay, so most of these decorations came from Pyro, who Scout is terrified of. Archimedes came from Medic, who Scout also doesn’t want to make angry, and the grass cutouts are potentially part of the base camouflage. But that disco ball? That belongs to Scout, he just doesn't want anyone to know he’s real into that. [The team would not judge, but his brothers would, so.]

Man when he gets his heart broken, I hope he finds the right girl for him. He deserves better than Pauling always making excuses to turn him down instead of telling him like it is.

Foreshadowing Solly being romantical towards Zhanna. Look at this content man.

Spy holding his knife like this. There’s no reason for it to be a threat, so he’s just genuinely in the habit of doing this while listening. Or while nervous, which also makes sense.

[dailyrothko]

No, the Popularity of Abstract Art is Not the Result of a CIA PsyOp

If you are unlucky enough to move around the internet these days and talk about art, you’ll find that many “First commenters” will hit you with what they see as some hard truth about your taste in art. Comments usually start with how modern art is “money laundering” always comically misunderstanding what that means. What they are saying is that, of course, rich people use investments as tax shelters and things like expensive antiques and art appraised at high prices to increase their net worth. Oh my god, I’ve been red-pilled. The rich getting richer? I have never heard of such a thing.

What is conveniently left out of this type of comment is that the same valuation and financial shenanigans occur with baseball cards, wine, vacation homes, guitars, and dozens of other things. It does indeed happen with art, but even the kind that the most conservative internet curator can appreciate. After all, Rembrandts are worth money too, you just don’t see many because he’s not making any more of them. The only appropriate response to these people who are, almost inevitably themselves, the worst artists you have ever seen, is silence. It would cruel to ask about their own art because there’s a danger they might actually enjoy such a truly novel experience.

When you are done shaking your head that you just subjected yourself to an argument about the venality of poor artists plotting to make their work valuable after they died, you can certainly then enjoy the accompanying felicity of the revelation they have saved to knock you off your feet: “Abstract art is a CIA PsyOp”

Here one must get ready either to type a lot or to simply say “Except factually” and go along your merry, abstract-art-loving way. But what are the facts? Unsurprisingly with things involving US government covert operations, the facts are not so clear.

Like everything on the internet, you are unlikely to find factual roots to the arguments about government conspiracies and modern art. The mere idea of it is enough to bring blossom for the “I’m not a sheep” crowd, some of whom believe that a gold toilet owning former president is a morally good, honest hard-working man of the people.

The roots of this contention come from a 1973 article in Artforum magazine, where art critic Max Kozloff wrote about post-war American painting in the context of the Cold War, centering around Irving Sandler’s book, The Triumph of American Painting (1970). Kozloff takes on more than just abstract expressionism in his article but condemns the “Self-congratulatory mood”of Sandler’s book and goes on to suggest the rise of abstract expressionism was a “Benevolent form of propaganda”. Kozoloff treads a difficult line here, asserting that abstraction was genuinely important to American art but that its luminaries, “have acquired their present blue-chip status partly through elements in their work that affirm our most recognizable norms and mores.”

While there were rumblings of agreements around Kozloff’s article of broad concerns, it did not give birth to an actual conspiracy theory at the time. The real public apprehension of this idea seems to mostly come from articles written by historian Frances Stonor Saunders in support of her book, “The Cultural Cold War: The CIA and the World of Arts and Letters” (New York, New Press, 2000). (I have not read this 525 page book, only excerpts).

The gist of Ms. Saunders argument is a tantalizing, but mostly unsupported, labyrinthine maze of back door funding and novelistic cloak and dagger deals. According to Saunders, the Congress for Cultural Freedom (CCF), an anti-communist cultural organization founded in 1950, was behind the promotion of Abstract art as part of their effort to be opinion makers in the war against communism. In 1966 it was revealed that the CCF was funded by the CIA. Saunders says that the CCF financed a litany of art exhibitions including “The New American Painting” which toured Europe in the late 1950s. Some of this is true, but it’s difficult, if not impossible, to know the specifics.

Noted expert in abstract-expressionism, David Anfam said CIA presence was real. It was “a well-documented fact” that the CIA co-opted Abstract Expressionism in their propaganda war against Russia. “Even The New American Painting [exhibition] had some CIA funding behind it,” he says. But the reasons for this are not quite what the abstract art detractors might be looking for. After all, the CCF also funded the travel expenses for the Boston Symphony Orchestra and promoted Fodor’s travel guides. More than trying to pull the wool over anyone’s eyes, it was meant to showcase the freedom artists in the US. enjoyed. Or as Anfam goes on to say, “It’s a very shrewd and cynical strategy, because it showed that you could do whatever you liked in America.”

For what it’s worth, Saunders’s book was eviscerated in the Summer 2000 issue of Art Forum at the time of its publication. Robert Simon wrote:

“Saunders draws extensively on primary and secondary sources, focusing on the convoluted money trail as it twists through dummy corporations, front men, anonymous donors, and phony fund-raising events aimed at filling the CCF’s coffers. She makes lengthy forays into such topics as McCarthyism, the formation and operation of the CIA, the propaganda work of the Hollywood film industry, and New York cultural politics—from Partisan Review to MoMA to Abstract Expressionism. Yet what seems strangely absent from Saunders’s panoramic history, as if it were a minor detail or something too obvious to require discussion, is the cultural object itself: The complex specifics of the texts, exhibitions, intellectual gatherings, paintings, and performances of the culture war are largely left out of the story.”

Another problem with the book seems to be that Saunders is an historian but not an art historian. For me, I sensed an overtone of superiority in the tale she’s spinning and most assuredly from those that repeat its conclusion. The thinly veiled message of some is that if it were “Real art” it would not have had be part of this government subterfuge. The reality is very different. For one thing, most of us know it is simply not true that you can make people devoted to a type of art for 100 years that they would sensibly hate otherwise. Another issue is that it’s quite obvious none of the artists actually knew about any government interference if there was any. Pollock, Rothko, Gottlieb and Newmann were all either communists or anarchists. Hardly the group one would recruit the help the US government free the world of communism. Additionally, this narrow cold war timeline ignores a huge amount of abstract art that Jackson Pollock haters also revile and consider part of the same hijacking of high (Frankly, Greek, Roman, or Renaissance) culture. If you look at the highly abstract signature work of Piet Mondrian and observe the dates they were painted, you’ll see 1908, 1914, 1916. This is some of the art denigrated as a CIA PsyOP, 35 years before the CIA even thought about it. Modern art didn’t come from nowhere as many would have you believe to discredit its rise. There was Surrealism, Dada, Bauhaus, Russian futurism and a host of other movements that fueled it.

Generally, people like to argue. On the internet, “I don’t like this” is a weak statement that always must be replaced by “This is garbage” or my favorite, “This is fake.”

It’s hardly surprising that the more conservative factions of our society look for any government involvement in our lives to explain why things are not exactly as they wish them to be, given the (highly ironic) conservative government-blaming that blew up after Reagan. In addition, modern fascists have always had a love affair with the classical fantasy of Greece and Rome. Both Mussolini and Hitler used Greece and Rome as “Distant models” to address their uncertain national identity. The Nazis confiscated more than 5,000 works in German museums, presenting 650 of them in the Entartete Kunst (Degenerate Art, 1937) show to demonstrate the perverted nature of modern art. It featured artists including Marc Chagall, Max Ernst, Wassily Kandinsky, and Paul Klee, among others. The fear of art was real. It was the fear of ideas.

To a lot of people on the internet just the mentioning a “CIA program” is enough to get the cogs turning, but as with many things, the reality of CIA programs and government plots is often less than evidence of well planned coup.

The CIA reportedly spent 20 millions dollars on Operation Acoustic Kitty which intended to use cats to spy on the Kremlin and Soviet embassies. Microphones were planted on cats and plans were set in motion to get the cats to surreptitiously record important conversations. However, the CIA soon discovered that they were cats and not agreeable to any kind of regulation of their behavior.

As part of Operation Mongoose the CIA planned to undermine Castro's public image by putting thallium salts in his shoes, which would cause his beard to fall out, while he was on a trip outside Cuba. He was expected to leave his shoes outside his hotel room to be polished, at which point the salts would be administered. The plan was abandoned because Castro canceled the trip.

Regardless of your feelings on this subject or how much you believe abstract art benefited from government dollars, Saunders herself quotes in her book a CIA officer apparently involved in these “Long leash” influence operations. He says, “We wanted to unite all the people who were writers, who were musicians, who were artists, to demonstrate that the West and the United States was devoted to freedom of expression and to intellectual achievement, without any rigid barriers as to what you must write, and what you must say, and what you must do.” Hardly the Illuminati plot we were promised.

In 2016, Irving Sandler, author of the book that started Kozloff tirading in 1973, told Alastair Sooke of The Daily Telegraph, “There was absolutely no involvement of any government agency. I haven’t seen a single fact that indicates there was this kind of collusion. Surely, by now, something – anything – would have emerged. And isn’t it interesting that the federal government at the time considered Abstract Expressionism a Communist plot to undermine American society?”

This blog post contains information and quotes sourced from The Piper Played to Us All: Orchestrating the Cultural Cold War in the USA, Europe, and Latin America, Russell H. Bartley International Journal of Politics, Culture, and Society, Vol. 14, No. 3 (Spring, 2001), pp. 571-619 (49 pages) https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20161004-was-modern-art-a-weapon-of-the-cia https://brill.com/view/journals/fasc/8/2/article-p127_127.xml?language=en https://www.guggenheim-bilbao.eus/en/learn/schools/teachers-guides/the-dark-side-of-classicism https://www.artforum.com/features/american-painting-during-the-cold-war-212902/ https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/modern-art-was-cia-weapon-1578808.html https://www.artforum.com/columns/frances-stonor-saunders-162391/ https://www.artforum.com/features/abstract-expressionism-weapon-of-the-cold-war-214234/ Mark Rothko and the Development of American Modernism 1938-1948 Jonathan Harris, Oxford Art Journal, Vol. 11, No. 1 (1988), pp. 40-50 (11 pages)

[enchantedlov3r]

This is my playpen ellie williams x puppy!reader full fic<3

Summary: you and ellie are play fighting but it turns into something different, more intimate...

Pairing: ellie williams x puppy!reader (my reader)

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Smut, oral (r receiving), soft!dom!ellie, sub!pup!reader, moaning, ellie herself should be a warning, fingering, ✂️ing, kissing, breast play, squirting, play fighting, aftercare, that's it folks!

A/N: I'm in the writing mood y'all enjoyyy! MDNI!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!! smut warning will be placed when the scene arrives. first time writing for ellie, hope you guys like it!

based on this song:

you and ellie were the best of friends. you both loved each other very much and it showed in public.

ellie was in love with you though. she of course never exactly had the balls to tell you because you were so pretty. she didn't wanna ruin this wonderful friendship you guys had.

in these circumstances, it was hard to make friends her age, granted she was basically an adult now and so were you, it was still hard being lesbian and making female friends and struggling not to fall for them.

that's what happened between her and dina, they were really close friends and ellie fell for her. but now there kinda distant from each other because now dina is with jesse.

there's nothing wrong with that, she was still friends with them, it just wasn't the same like it used to be.

but now she found you and she just wanted you to be her's so badly. it haunted ellie at night. it got to the point joel noticed and would tease ellie about it everyday.

"stop starin' ellie, it's creepy." joel would say as ellie stared at you from across the room while you were sitting on couch.

it was movie night and you, ellie and joel always watched movies together. Tonight you invited dina.

"how can i sit here and not stare joel? How can she sit there and laugh and look so beautiful?" ellie says admiring your figure laughing with dina.

"well I understand that, she's a beautiful girl but c'mon, you know what happened between and dina" he says to ellie with a look.

"yea well joel i can assure you, that won't happen again, can we go watch the movie you old man?" ellie says with a smirk on her face before kicking off the wall and heading towards the couch.

"hey guys, whatcha talking about?" ellie announces her presence. Dina looks at her and smile and you smile at her as well jumping up to give her a hug.

"Hi els! we were just talking about our guesses on how the movies gonna end." you say giggling before letting her go and grabbing her hand to sit down.

"Yea, she thinks its gonna end happily but I think it's gonna end badly." dina says smiling at ellie.

"yea well, I don't know how it's gonna end but i'm guessing it'll prolly have idk maybe a double ending where it's both good and bad." ellie says with a shrug.

"that was no help at all ellie." dina says with a smirk on her face. "It's ok els, we'll see." you say laying a reassuring hand on her thigh.

ellies face turns a bit red and she smiles at you before rubbing her neck.

she had to admit she was very smitten about you. she loved how you were so oblivious and so cute. she adored your love for nature and your fascination with chasing things.

it was adorable.

'joel! hurry up! we wanna watch the movie!" dina calls out

"yea you old man, get out here!" ellie follows up

"please be safe and don't trip and break a hip please joel." you say lastly making ellie and dina laugh.

"what!? i'm genuinely concerned for joel!" you say with a pout on your face. ellie smiles and apologizes glancing down at your lips.

she turns away from you and looks at the figure appearing next to her, it's joel.

"alright girls, yall can shut up now. I'm pressing play." He says laughing.

the movie begins and it's going good, you guys are halfway through the movie when there's knocking on the door.

joel groans and the girls whine. joel pauses the movie and gets up and opens the door and sees tommy and jesse.

"what is it tommy?" joel asks clearly frustrated and annoyed. "well I need you for some help in the stables and jesse needs dina for something, I have no clue why though."

"alright, we'll be out in a sec." he says huffing out a puff of air.

"dina, jesse needs you, don't know why, els imma be gone for a little bit, i'll be back, pick up dina then we'll finish the movie, kay?" he announces.

you pout and ellie rolls her eyes, clearly frustrated. 'alright joel, bye see you later." ellie calls out.

"bye joel." you call out to him. he smiles, winks at ellie and waves his hand. 'bye girls." he says.

"by dina." you say,

"bye d." ellie says.

"bye guys." she says with a smile before running out the house and closing the door.

you both hear a click which is clearly joel locking the door before you both look at each other and smile.

"so whaddya wanna do?" ellie asks with a tight lipped smile as she pats her thighs.

"I don't know, can we go to your room, your bed is much more comfortable then this couch." you say with a smile.

"ok, yea no let's go." ellie says getting up and leading you to her room even though you already knew the way.

you guys finally make it to her room and ellie asks as she opens the door, "what now?" she says walking towards her bed.

"THIS!" you yell out jumping on her back and making ellie fall on to her bed. you giggle as you straddle ellie from behind.

ellie tries to get you off before reaching behind and using her fingers to tickle you.

you laugh out loud and fall off her. she climbs on top of you you both start tugging at each others arms and tickling each other.

SMUT INCOMING!!

ellies leg though found a way between yours and every time you moved, your cunt was brushed with the roughness of her jeans and the thinness of your shorts.

every time her leg brushes against your clit you whimper but try your best to cover it up with a giggle, but there was this one time that her leg brushed your now soaked cunt and you moaned her name.

"e-ellie, fuck." you moan out. ellie immediately stops in her tracks. she looks at you with wide eyes.

"w-what did you say?" ellie questions, clearly confused.

"ellie your leg has been brushing against my pussy for the longest and it feels really good, i tried my best to conceal my noises but it felt way too good." you confess.

"please els, please help me. I need it, i need you." you beg her as you paw at her clothes to remove them.

she bites her lip and mutters out a "fuck" before removing her shirt and her sports bra, she starts unbuckling her jeans and gets off of you.

"fuck, take your pants off." she say breathlessly as she stares at your breasts. she climbs back on top of you once your pants and panties are removed.

she puts one leg on top and over you and lines her pussy up with yours. she starts experimenting by slowly moving her hips rubbing her clit against yours.

you let out a long moan and grip onto her leg. "fuck els, yea r-right there." you whimper out.

she moans too, "fuck yea, your pussy feels so good, fuck" ellie moans.

her pace gets faster and your desperate thrusts and movements are indicating that your close. "your close huh? you gonna cum, cum for me." ellie says grabbing your breast and rubbing and squeezing your nipples.

you cry out feeling your release coming closer and closer. you squeeze your eyes shut and moan out ellie's name loudly. she curses before her hips twitch as do yours as you both cum at the same time.

"fuck baby, c'mere wanna try something." ellie whispers to you. you scoot closer to her and ellie lays down on her stomach.

she lines her face up with your cunt and experiments with her tongue. she licks a stripe up your cunt and you mewl.

"oh ellie!" you whine out, the feeling of her tongue in the place you need her most feels amazing.

"you taste so good babe." she moans into your cunt. the vibrations of her moans course through you making your hips jolt at the friction.

what surprises you is when she adds a finger inside you, you cry out at the feeling of the strecth.

"oh fucking hell els!" you grip her hair tighter and she groans into your cunt. she's having the time of her life going ham on your pussy.

she adds a second finger eliciting the same reaction out of you that you had the first time.

she slides her other hand down to her pussy and slips to fingers in moaning into your cunt loudly.

ellie felt euphoric, not only pleasing you but also pleasing herself. ellie got pleasure out of watching you squirm and writhe around as she ate you out.

"f-fuck." she mumbles as she feels her high approaching. she chases it while still finding the rhythm to please you.

she cums at hearing you cry out her name. she's breathing just as heavily now as you are. she removes her fingers from her cunt and grabs your plush thighs to finish you off.

"you gonna cum again for me love?" she asks sucking on your clit as she feels your walls tightening and your hips spasming.

"ellie! oh ff-fuckk!" you cry out as you squirt all over ellie, her tongue lapping up your juices.

you pull her face closer to your cunt as you ride out your high, the feeling of euphoria taking over you as you cum.

ellie removes her fingers before locking eyes with you. she sucks her fingers clean making you whine at how hot it was.

"l-lemme help you." you say batting your big pretty doe puppy eyes at her as you offer to help get her off.

"it's fine love, I'm good." she says as she gets up off the bed. "lemme clean you up yea?"

she goes into the bathroom and grabs a rag, wets it with warm water as it was very cold in jackson lately.

she wipes your cunt and you sigh in relief feeling warm water on your bare skin.

she rinses it again and wipes your body down from your breasts down to your thighs.

she then cleans herself off before laying down in the bed with you. she pulls the blankets over both of you and snuggles up with you.

"you wanna shirt of mine or no? so you know... y-your not cold?" she asks.

"yea that would be nice els, thank you." you say. you watch as she walks over to the drawer and grabs to shirts out, a black one and a green one.

she tosses you the green one and she puts on the black one. she grabs a pair of underwear for herself and you and you guys get dressed.

once you guys are finished you guys lay back down and cuddle up.

"this may sound crazy to say but, I think i'm in love with you." ellie admits.

"you think?" you question. "no n-no, fuck. no I know I love you. I've been in love with you for a long time." ellie says tracing circles on your thigh.

"i'm in love with you too ellie!" you say smiling at her. "I thought I was being kinda obvious with the way I acted around you."

ellie chuckles and kisses you for the first time tonight. it's long and it's passionate and it has nothing but love in it.

with her eyes still closed she smiles. "will you do me the honor in making me the happiest girl in the world and be my girlfriend?" ellie asks.

you smile and shower her face with kisses before answering. "YES! YES! YES!" you say excitingly.

you hug her and you both lay there together eventually falling asleep in each others arms.

Taglist: (?) whoever wants to join just lemme know!

COMMENTS, REBLOGS, AND LIKES ARE MUCH APPRECIATED!

©enchantedlov3r| All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[seungfl0wer]

Jeongin As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut 🩷

-🩵

•I feel like he’s very nervous, especially at first.

•Constantly checking on you making sure anything he does is ok.

•Like kissing. He’s gonna ask you if “it’s ok” to kiss you.

•Because he’s afraid of making you uncomfortable.

•When y’all get past that phase he’s still asking sometimes however he goes for it more often than not.

•He’s not super big into skin ship.

•However that does not mean he’s not ever gonna touch you of course.

•Holding hands is his favorite.

•Or wrapping his arms around you in a back hug.

•He’s not into PDA so if you try to kiss him around the others.

•He’s gonna turn bright red.

•He’s very reserved in my opinion.

•I feel like since he likes fashion so much he’d honestly like those couple outfits.

•Not the “I love my boyfriend” shirts.

•But like same color shirts and stuff just simple cute couple fits.

•Will have you in his OOTD’s especially when y’all matching.

•Absolutely loves seeing you in his clothes too.

•Ugh it just melts him. Finds it so endearing.

•Has a playlist of songs that remind him of you.

•Loves taking you to different places with him so you can experience them with him.

•Teases you of course.

•However he’s very mindful and sometimes can overthink what he says.

•He’s just afraid of hurting your feelings.

•Cuddles.

•Like I said he’s not a big touchy person however.

•When you’re sleeping he’s pulling you so close.

•Tells you all the time how it’s hard to sleep without you.

•Sings trots songs for you.

•Likes karaoke dates a lot too.

•Will definitely send you pictures of their concepts before it’s out.

•He can’t keep things from you.

•It’s really hard for him to keep secrets even if it’s something like a present or surprise.

•He just tells you everything so it’s hard for him not to tell you these exciting things.

•Clumsy.

•You joke how you need to put him in a bubble.

•Or bubble wrap the house at least.

•He loves taking pictures of you too.

•Changes his background so much cause he takes such cute pictures of you.

•No matter how long y’all date for he’s still smiling when he sees your name pop up on his phone.

•Even old and grey he’s still all giddy with you cause he loves you.

•I feel like after he lets his wall down he falls really hard.

•His love is so very genuine.

•He’s just a soft guy under those fox eyes, whose only mission is to make you smile.

•To make you happy and to feel loved and he’ll always be there to do so.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•Again this man’s still a bit nervous.

•He lets you take the lead a lot.

•But when he gets comfortable you’ll see the real jeongin.

•He’s very much a switch.

•Loves when you take care of him.

•Calling him your “Sweet baby” makes him go crazy.

•Whimpers so much when he’s like this.

•”I’ve been so good for you please-“

•Morning blow jobs to wake him up.

•Lazy morning sex too.

•You’re still half asleep when he’s pushing himself between your legs.

•His head in the crook of your neck whimpering how he “needs you so much”

•When you respond he’s losing it.

•Lubing you up before pushing into your sweetness.

•On the other hand he can be very aggressive.

•A lot of the times it’s when he’s stressed.

•He’ll have you face down as up as he pounds deep into you.

•Those big beautiful hands leaving hand prints on your ass.

•Loves sneaking you into the dorms.

•Telling you how you “have to stay quiet”

•Gets off on the thought of the others hearing how good he’s making you feel.

•Also those hands I mentioned?

•The way he pushes them into your sweet hole it just-

•He curls them so perfectly hitting every sweet spot.

•He knows how much you like his pretty hands.

•Teases you about how you fall apart on them.

•Aftercare is a lot for him.

•He is always concerned he hurt you or pushed you too far.

•Constant “are you ok?”

•Runs to grab you towels, snacks and drinks.

•Just wants to make sure you’re completely ok.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something

[pablitogavii]

Well I have an idea in my mind Pablo and the rest of the team were talking in the locker room that making the woman reach orgasm was very difficult and required a lot of time So Pablo was worried that you were faking your orgasm because it only took ten minutes. So he started talking to the boy to find a solution, telling him to make sure she wasn't faking it I don't even know how this idea came into my mind

All real with you, mi amor

"And it took hours, tío! I was so exhausted by the end that I just fell asleep" Ferran talked rather loudly about his newest fling and Pablo listened secretly curious about the conversation.

"I know! Sometimes it takes them hours to cum, and we're done in minutes" Fermin added to it and Pablo thought about you instantly.

During your "sexy times" ;) it never took you too long to cum, and Pablo prided himself in making you cum multiple times in a duration of an hour.

"Can't she just fake it at that point like all women do?" Ferran added and now Gavi's hand turned around quicker than ever before..what did they mean all women fake it???

"De que hables?" Gavi said and both boys smirked at their rather shy friend for being so interested n the topic all of the sudden.

"About women faking orgasms because it takes a long time for them to cum.." Ferran said and Pablo felt uneasy thinking that you would fake anything with him but he couldn't help but wonder now.

"Why do you think they fake it if they cum fast?" Gavi said genuinely trying to understand but boys were taking it as a joke.

"Looks like Pablito is not only the beast on the cancha, but in the sheets too..lucky Y/n!" Ferran teased as did everyone else but Gavi kept thinking about their conversation..how would he know if you were really faking it with him?

"Do you really think women fake orgasms?" Gavi asked Marcos Alonso as an older guy and the man rubbed the boy's head telling him that it is common but not always the case and he shouldn't worry so much about it.

But Pablo was very worried now..he loved making you cum, and what if it's all fake? How horrible he would feel if that was true...

He came home exhausted from the intense cardio training and his girl waited for him excited to jump into his arms and cuddle for a few minutes.

It was obvious that he was not in a good mood, and you noticed like always asking if everything was alright at work.

"It's fine preciosa..I'm just thinking about something" he said vague and you wondered what it was that got your boy so concerned. You were worried that it was something you did that made him upset.

"Is it something about me, amor?" you asked innocent eyes looking at him and he couldn't stop staring at them..kept wondering if the way they glisten when you cum was just a source of his imagination.

"Yes, princesa.." was all he said not wanting to lie since you promised to always be truthful.

"Que? No me quires mas?" you say sadly knowing of course that's not the case, and Pablo was quick to kiss you in reassurance.

"Te quiero con toda mi alma, te lo juro princesa..only.." he said and you turned around on his lap so you could face him. Your hand moved his hair so you can look each other in the eye.

"Que te pasa? Dime?" you say still caressing his face when he took both of your hands in his veiny ones and kissed them.

"I want to know if you ever faked an orgasm with me?" he was direct because he wanted a direct answer but you as always got very shy talking about this, so you blushed bright red.

"Don't tease me Pablito! You know I get shy.." you answer hiding your face in the crook of his neck not really knowing how to talk about this.

"Look at me muñeca..estoy hablando enserio" he said holding your hot face in his hands and you were once again looking at him.

"Did you ever fake an orgasm with me?" he repeated his question and now you knew he was serious about this.

"Where did you get this idea from amor?" you ask and he felt like you are avoiding a question when you were just confused why all of the sudden he would assume something like this?

"Guys said women often fake it because it takes them long time to cum..and you always cum in ten minutes with me, so it makes sense." he was mumbling his thoughts until you shut him up with a kiss and he leaned into your touch.

"Pablo..ven conmigo" you say taking his hand and you two walked into your shared bedroom. You sat on the bed and pulled him to do so as well.

"I want you to hear me say this.." you say moving closer and snaking your arms around his broad strong shoulder.

"It's all real with you amor..te lo prometo" you whisper the last part and Pablo smiled big moving your legs so that you were straddling his lap now as he started kissing you hungrily.

"Really?" he asked hopefully and you nodded with your forehead against his as he started to kiss don your neck to your shoulder blades and you were already a moaning mess.

"Why do girls fake?" he said still kissing you and driving you crazy.

"Because they haven't found a man able to satisfy them properly mi amor..f..fuck right there" you moan and he lays you back slowly sucking the marks into your skin.

"Hmmm then I guess you're lucky preciosa..because I live to satisfy my perfect girl..you taste so sweet" he kissed down your stomach and you opened your legs out of instinct as he pulled down your panties.

"Hmm how loud you get when I make you cum, it's impossible to fake that preciosa.." he was talking with his face between your thighs which only intensified the feeling of ecstasy right now.

"U..ugh..you know my body so well P..pablito" you moan and he smirks nodding his head and pulling your thighs even closer to his face.

"It's MY body preciosa.." he said and that was enough to have you over the edge with your thighs shaking from the intense orgasm you just had.

"Oh yeah definitely real, perfecta mia.." he said licking your juices clean before kissing your lips and making you taste yourself which only turned you on more.

"M..mas Pablito.." you begged and he smirked nodding his head and pulling the rest of your clothes off..let's just say you spent the whole night proving to him that it was all real just for him ;))

[anadiasmount]

moscow mule - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: a boat day in the beautiful city of miami ends handsy with your boyfriend who can’t get enough of you and your red bikini as you stroll around slowly to take in the city night…

masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: ik i said tiny blurb but this had been on my mind after an anon requested!! who doesn’t love bf! jude?? 😛 tiny mature content, not in-depth smut though!! so small 18+ warning!! small insta au at the end 🤍

you smile widely sitting up and put your book away as you saw your boyfriend approach you. “you enjoyed yourself today?” he asked, hunching over you and kissed your knee, spreading your legs and came between them. “i certainly did. nothing could beat a nice day boat day full of drinks, food and swimming,” you said meeting jude in a small kiss midway.

“even if you almost drowned?” he joked making you laugh and cover your face embarrassed.

“hey! to be fair, i had no idea it would be that deep? one second we were in shallow water then boom, i couldn’t reach my tiptoes on the sand? it’s a good thing i had my night and shining armor there with me,” you said sarcastically remembering how jude jumped in and saved you while laughing hysterically.

“i literally warned you to be careful, then all i could see is you treading the water!” jude replied, pulling you up and sitting you on his lap, his hand slowly trailing your back and playing with the strings from your red bikini. “i panicked, hello! i was genuinely not prepared for that,” you giggled, stroking his cheek with your thumb and giving a tiny peck on his nose.

“i love when you do that,” jude admits with a shy smile. “good because im not gonna stop doing it,” you stick your tongue wanting to get up to retrieve some of the fruit you bought in the morning at the small market. “what are you doing? where you going?” jude asked you concerned pulling you back down with a tight grip.

“to get some mangos and pineapple for us,” you laugh but jude is quick to get up and retrieve it, bringing some water along as well. “drink some, you’ve been in the sun all day and i don’t want you to get dehydrated,” he says opening the top and handing it gently while he went to get some napkins. “here pretty girl.”

“thank you!”

now it was no surprise but all you could feel is his intense eyes roam as you stood up to remove the white coverup you had on. jude gulping heavily, almost choking on the piece of mango as you tied your hair back and adjusted your bikini. the dark red set that had him stressing and putting images in his head he didn’t need.

he was lost for words when you stepped out the restroom in the morning, wearing just that. watching how you applied sunscreen, your jewelry and fixed your hair. miami had gave you a different glow that radiated your essence so much. jude was starstruck every time he stared at you. in the morning when you slept, when you people watched, when you talked to him. he knew that he was the luckiest man alive.

“i can feel you staring…” you whisper, jude letting out a small smile. “can’t help it, you under this sun light? this bikini? you’re killing me here,” he chuckles nervously, slightly going back and resting his forearms on the couch bed, his eyes lowering as you toppled him. “am i now? who knew this would be making you feel like that…”

“you always do, i can’t ever deny that. but this miami glow is hitting different… especially this tiny bikini,” he tugged the middle part of the bra top, seeing how your breasts pushed in. you gasp, feeling your ears heat up as you gently slap his hand away, jude letting out a smirk. “jude! we’re in public!” you say with clenched teeth, looking around to see if anyone would be watching.

“so?”

“so that means we have to be careful. who knows who could be watching or listening, maybe even filming,” you express, situating yourself on his lap, as he offers you a piece of fruit. “no matter where we go we’re being watched, and it’s something we can’t do unless we play undercover and dress up,” jude shrugs his shoulders.

“i remember we did that back in madrid when i visited you during christmas. your fans were so confused,” your laughter gets loud thinking how the little kids were twisting their heads trying to see and recognize if it was jude or not. you had been dating for a year yet were still scared to go public, especially with jude growing rapidly at his current club. now you were at peace with terms and not scared of public. yet you were careful because one never knew.

“you don’t know how bad i needed this,” jude confessed, his hands running up and down your soft thighs, nails grazing softly as he did different motions. “everything happened so fast after the semifinal. i was off for a week and then shit went crazy. but i’m so grateful to be where i am today, especially with you,” his fingers tugged and played with the knot from your bottoms.

“jude…” you warn, a faint smile on your lips giving him a knowing look.

“seriously i feel like you wore this on purpose just to rile me up,” he squeezed your thighs, watching as you adverted your gaze to the water where you guys now roamed close the city. more open to the public eye. “you did didn’t you!” jude exclaimed, hopping up as he pulled you close and tickled your neck. “okay maybe! maybe! ok yes, yes i did!” you struggled to say as you kept laughing and squinting.

“i love seeing you in red,” jude said, noticing how those words affected you, your eyes boring into his as your wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “every color looks beautiful on you, but this certain red definitely is one of my favorites,” jude’s hands trailed down to your bum where he gently squeezed it. you sigh with a playful gaze, “why do i even try with you?”

“because you love me? and i’m hot.”

“whatever.”

you stayed like this for the rest of the city stroll, often getting side tracked and just watched the sun set till it became dark. the only lights on were from the piers and buildings. the whole scenery looking aesthetic and relaxing. jude and you played kid games like “i spy” “would you rather” “name the top” getting competitive especially when the uno cards came out.

you would take this over any day. the private and intimate moments with him. appreciating and showing each other the undeniable love you had together. knowing it could be hard because of the high maintenance jobs you had, but you always made it work. willing to put in the sacrifice and effort to ensure your relationship was healthy. it was never ever the bare minimum.

jude told and reminded you always. even before you dated he wanted to let you know he was there no matter what. that being with you was the luckiest and most important aspects of his life. he never failed to show the gratitude or shy away the love he has and created. “you’re my world y/n. i’d do anything for you…”

“oh my god i love this song!” you squeal tuning up the volume as you heard the introduction of moscow mule. “isn’t this by bad bunny?” asked jude, remembering how his teammates played him back during training and gym sessions. “what do you know about bad bunny?” you teased, earning a tiny scoff from jude. “more than you know.”

your back laid on jude’s chest, giving his bicep a tiny peck in appreciation, his arms holding your waist, rubbing small circles on your hips. “this song is perfect for todays evening,” the small comment has jude cocking his head to the side, you go on to explain how the song means living life and in the moment with the person you love.

“yo no se tu, pero yo quisiera amanecer 'esnu', en una playa por balí, si no, cancún, pide otro moscow mule…” (my fav part ever of this song 😣)

jude’s lips place faint kisses on your ear lobe, leaving a wet trail as he gently ran his tongue on your pulse point, making you shiver and close your eyes anticipating his next move when he blew air. “i need you so bad you don’t understand y/n…” jude whined, pressing you down on his cock, as you panted. “i can feel that, can hear it in you,” you say gently turning around where jude made a mental picture of you like this.

you made sure no one was around, including the driver even if he was on the top deck of the yacht. you grind on him, a tiny groan escaping his mouth as you kissed his jaw bone. “we have to be quiet okay,” jude placed you down with one hand on him, his kisses urgent and showing how much he needed you. “can i take this off?” he asked tugging the red string from your top, your noses together as you calmed your breaths.

you nod biting your bottom lip, jude watching your eyes dilate as he gently undid the bow from the back. his eyes roamed your now bare breast, running his hands from your sides and giving both a small squeeze, hearing your shaky inhale, not resisting the urge and placing kisses on the flesh of them, tracing all the way up to your lips, where he hummed. “so sweet… so mine.”

“jude please…” you whimpered. “i know, i know, i got you, i got you baby,” jude reassured. sealing his promise by showing you what he meant and desired all day. your small and quiet moans driving him insane since all he wanted was to hear you. hear how good you were taking him, how amazing you felt wrapped around his cock. he felt it all, the cloud nine feeling as your warm walls squeezed him tight, your nails raking down his back leaving a burn and red trails, your lips struggling to kiss him as you came undone.

“i love you darling,” he kissed you deeply, feeling as you smiled into the kiss knowing you were about to say it back.

“i. love. you.”

——— j. b. ———

judebellingham

liked by: ynusername, yourbestie, vinijr, brahmin, badbunny, jobebellingham, fedevalverde, declanrice, trentalexanderarnold, vogue, spottedcelebrity, camavinga, and 2,348,699 others.

judebellingham: moscow mule feeling

comments:

ynusername: hi bf 😛

ynusername: still not okay after first pic… anyways VEN Y CHOCA

↪️ judebellingham: conmigo que se joda 🫣🫡

username90: miami y/n and jude?? okay then

user12: she is actually so stunning i can’t. jude move.

username23: OMGGG BAD BUNNY SONG?? he knows what he’s doing.

brahmin: hermanoooo, disfruten ❤️

trentalexanderarnold: 🫡🫡

liked by judebellingham

username65: oh- well we know they had a good time ☺️

user33: miami was not ready for them…

[timmydraker]

CW: drugs

When Tim is seventeen, Bruce gets a call from his principal asking for a private meeting to discuss Tim’s education. It’s not abnormal, but the parent teacher meetings weren’t due for another month and something about the tone of Professor Wilcot’s voice leaves Bruce concerned.

He organises it for the next afternoon and politely tells the timid looking man to please get to the point.

Wilcot answers with a tight lipped frown, “I recently discovered that Tim has a few nicknames. Now, that in itself isn’t a probably but the names themself are… concerning.”

Bruce immediately thinks of Red Robin and worries his son has been caught, but that makes little sense when Tim has shown to be the best at contingencies and secret keeping.

“Such as?”

With a deep sigh the man continues, “Well, there’s ‘Benzo’ and ‘Opi’. As well as ‘27’, which is recently learned references a so called ‘club’ of celebrities who die at that age for-for drug abuse.”

Even if he wasn’t a detective, Bruce could easily put it all together. Benzodiazepines and opioids, both drugs and a number well tied to such a thing all regarding a famed person.

It’s like he’s just gotten inside from being drenched in snow and had hot water dunked on him as dozens of different moments come to mind. He remembers Tim going from being down and low, tired and drained to suddenly being extra alert and chatty. He assumed it was coffee, but Tim often had a red nose and sniffled like mad.

He also got shakes, was made fun of by his brothers for being a sweaty person, and irritable at the best of times. He was jumpy and easily spooked, which everyone connected to him growing up safe and getting no sleep.

Tim also had forgotten basic case information a few times but usually managed to cover it up.

Bruce had noticed and responded by trying to lessen his work load, only for Tim to scream at him, storm off and come back looking drowsy a couple of hours later.

Wilcot doesn’t speak for a while, seemingly giving Bruce the chance to process his words but when he does it’s just to put forward the last bit of evidence Bruce needs.

“I admit it isn’t exactly ethical, but I check Mister Drake-Wayne’s locker and… I thought it would be best if I let you chose how to proceed lest I harm his reputation.”

A bottle, almost empty, of Oxycodone and a half full bottle of Oxymorphone.

Bruce looks away when the last bottle lands on the table, it’s a benzodiazepines called Dalmane and there are no pills because they’ve all been crushed into a powder.

Bruce doesn’t even want to think about how those drugs interact.

Wilcot says one last thing before he leaves the room, quit clearly giving Bruce a moment as the reveal settles in his mind, “Tim is a good kid. He’s kind to everyone and I truely hope he can get help. Please, if there is anything I can do, contact me. Other than that, I will keep this quiet. Please take care of him.”

Let it be said that Bruce Wayne loves his children, he genuinely cares for them and most importantly, he likes who each of them are.

But he’s not always the best father to them, not when he’s too far in his head and his head is too far up his arse.

He tries to confront Tim calmly and with compassion at first but it becomes clear he isn’t qualified to deal with it and he should have gotten Alfred or even Dick. When Batman deals with addicts all he has to do is get them to a hospital and show he isn’t judging them, but with his own son and when he’s not being Batman…

Tim instantly locks up when Bruce shows him the bottles and his defences go straight into overdrive, “Bruce, don’t. That’s not fair! Did you go through my fucking stuff?! That’s fucked up!”

Bruce looses his composure quickly, “Don’t you dare curse at me, Timothy. You are a goddamn hero and you’re doing this? Why did you tell me?! I could have helped you! Why, Tim?! You e seen what people who abuse drugs end up like-“

Tim screams so loud Bruce can practically hear how it hurts his throat, “WHAT FUCKING DRUGGIES?! IS THAT WHAT THEY END UP LIKE?! TOO FUCKING LATE BRUCE, YOU’RE TOO LATE! I GAVE YOU EVERY FUCKING SIGN AND YOU DID NOTHING SO FUCK OFF! I. AN HANDLE IT ON MY OWN!”

“This ain’t handling it, Tim. You’re addicted. You’re erratic, you’re bouncing from mood to mood and, have you seen how skinny you are? I’m worried, Tim.”

Maybe Tim would have been able to handle it better if he hadn’t been a few hours into withdrawal, but all he does is swing. He manages to catch Bruce of guard and hit him square in the jaw, only to realise what he’s done and start hitting himself the same way.

Bruce breaks as he watches his son who is usually so calm and controlled break down in a fit of aggression and pent up energy.

When Tim manages to hit himself hard enough Bruce. An hear a crack from his hand.

As he speaks again he dooms himself to a life time of regret, forever wishing he had gotten Alfred’s advice first.

“I’m sorry son, but until you’re clean, you will no longer be Red Robin.”

There’s a silence before Tim releases a wheezing laugh of disbelief.

It’s soon followed by the most enraged, harrowing scream Bruce has ever heard. It feels as if it shakes the walls before Tim kicks at his father’s stomach and bolts.

Bruce is too stunned to follow and foolishly assumes he can track his son anywhere.

Tim, even after he manages to shakily pull out the Dalmane he had in his pocket just as he passes the gate and take a big inhale, manages to put his mind together enough to remove his watch and key.

Bruce is forced to shamefully admit what happened a few hours later when he can’t find him and realises that Tim isn’t coming back.

Alfred for the first time in Bruce’s entire life actually glares at him.

Dick shouts at Bruce about how unbelievably stupid he is.

Jason just scoffs and says the kid will come back while Damian makes a comment about Tim being weak.

Maybe they would have reacted better if Bruce told them why Tim left, but he shamefully doesn’t want to admit he didn’t notice that Tim was a dealing with addiction under his own nose.

But Bruce has never been good with honesty.

[luvyeni]

Yay okay can I please request an Anton fic Where he’s a virgin and he tells reader that he wants her to take his virginity but he’s really shy so y/n suggests they start off slow so she starts making out with him and dry humping him but then he tells her he wants to cum in her hand so she jerks him off that way and he does it all over her and it gets everywhere and it’s just messy and-

Tell me you understand my vison user luvyeni on Tumblr 🤭🤭?? Anyways that’s my request 😜

❛GOOD BOY❜ ( l. anton )

p. nerd!anton x popular!reader wc. 1.4k

warnings? dry humping, handjob, cumming w/o penetration

— 𖦹 ( helping out your shy boyfriend ) !

anton often truly wondered what he had done in his past life for him to been able to get a girlfriend as wonderful as you. you were incredibly smart, probably even smart as him always on top of your classes. not only were you smart, but you were also one of the popular girls, but you weren’t like the stereotypical mean bully mean girl; you were kind to everyone, never saying anything bad about everyone, even a loner nerd like him.

you guys met actually because you came to his rescue – one of the football players, who also happened to be your boyfriend at the time and his other friends would often come and corner the boy, stealing his money, throwing his things to the floor. you saw what happened, quickly coming to his defense, breaking up with the boy in front of everyone, quick guiding the boy away from danger, holding his books.

soon a cute little friendship formed, you’d leave all your friends and people who’d crowded around you, just to walk over to his table to sit with him and eat your lunch.

anyone would fall for a girl like you, anton included – and now that you were showing him all this affection, he’d fallen head over heels for you. but crazy enough, you beat him to it, you were actually the one who asked him on a date – you were even the one to ask him to be your boyfriend, which he of course said yes.

if anton could change one thing about himself, it would be how shy he would get around you, he wished he could voice what he wanted to you whenever he wanted – especially when it came to sex. he was a virgin obviously, the only thing he’d done was a few make out sessions, and that was with you.

he knew you were much more experienced than he was, and he could never satisfy you, but what would he be if he didn’t try. but even now, you were laying on his bed, your skirt riding up exposing your thighs, his pants growing tight, he still was too shy to speak up.

“anton?” you snapped your fingers in his face. “love, what’s wrong?” you said now sitting on your knees in front of him. “n-nothing, i’m fine.” his soft voice making you smile. “you don’t seem fine, what’s going on in that head of yours?” you placed your hand on his thigh, right below his growing cock, his breath hitched, he prayed you didn’t hear him. “i-i’m fine.”

you sighed, bringing your other hand to his forehead. “are you sick? do you need medicine?” you questioned, his face was now beat red, your hand was centimeters away from his bulge. “you’re burning up.”

you didn’t know what you were doing, you genuinely were concerned about him, but he didn’t know how much longer he could take it before his voice betrayed him. “anton just tell me, i won’t judge you love.” your hand came from his forehead to his cheek, caressing it.

he gulped, now was the time to man up. “i -um- iwantyoutotakemyvirginity.” he spoke so fast, his voice was still hushed, but you heard everything he said. “i know it’s embarrassing, but– no it’s not baby.” you reassured him. “i’ve told you, you will never embarrass me.” you kissed his lips, pulling away with a smile.

“it’s okay to be a virgin anton, let’s just take it slow, okay?” he nodded, he couldn’t look you in the eyes. “hey.” you called, climbing into his lap – this wasn’t new, but it still always shocked him. “you’re already hard.” you cocked your head to the side. “i-i’m sorry, i couldn’t hmph.” you shut him up with another kiss.

“stop apologizing for stuff that’s normal, look let’s just take it slow, okay?” you said softly ran your hands through his hair. “let’s start with what we know.” he nodded, you grabbed the sides of his face, kissing him, taking the lead like you always did, slipping your tongue into his mouth.

he kept his hands at his side, gripping the sheets in attempts to calm himself down, but with the way you were sitting directly on his cock, it was getting hard to control himself. you pulled away, grabbing his hands, placing them high on your thighs, under your skirt. “it’s okay, you can touch me.”

he let out a whimper, his cock was now painfully hard, he felt like he was gonna cum just from this – just from you sitting on him while kissing. you smiled against his lips, pulling away, he chased your lips, you giggled, wiping the spit from his lips. “so cute.”

“i-i…” he stopped, unable to speak. “what is it baby, tell me what you want.” you said. “c-can you move, it hurts.” whimpered out again. “of course, i can, such a good boy for speaking up.” you began to move your hips, he moaned – the feeling of the material from his underwear rubbing against his cock had him feeling dizzy.

not only that, but you were also moaning, your shirt unbuttoned revealing your bra, your boobs peaking from from the top – thinking about what he wanted to do to them had him about to cum, but he didn’t want to cum like this, he wanted more. “m-more.”

you stopped moving, your hands placed on his shoulders to keep yourself up. “you want more, pretty boy.” he whimpered at the name, nodding. “pl-please.” he said looking up at you with his wide doe eyes. “okay, i’ll give you more.”

you climbed off his lap, he looked at you confused. “i told you, we’re taking it slow.” you sat on the side of him, unbuckling his pants. “next time you’ll be able to fuck me, let’s not overwhelm you too much.” he nodded, you smiled. “good boy, lift your hips up for me.” you pulled his pants down enough to pull his cock from its confinements, he was average sized, a little bit on the thinner side, but you believed it would be enough to satisfy you once he learned to use it right. “such a pretty cock.” you praised; his ears turned red. “d-don’t say that.” you chuckled.

“but it is.” you ran your finger down the base of his length, he hissed, his cock twitching below your fingernail. “gonna jerk your pretty cock off, okay?” truth be told, you would love to fuck him, he looked so cute, and you were extremely horny, but you knew he wasn’t gonna last long, and you didn’t want him to feel self-conscious about cumming before you did. “w-what about you?” you wrapped your hand around his cock. “fu-fuck.” he cursed, surprising you both, he hardly used those words, unless he was really frustrated. “don’t worry about me love.” you began to stroke his cock slowly. “this is about you.”

his head was thrown back against the headboard, eyes sealed as you began to move your hand faster. “you’re doing so well for me, can you look at me please.” you cooed, he forced his eyes opened, making eye contact with your soft ones. “you feeling good?” you questioned, he moaned nodding. “i-it f-feels good, really g-good.”

“good that all that matters, you gonna cum?” he nodded, he could feel it, he wanted to last longer, but you were squeezing his base, and praising him – he could no longer hold it. “gonna cum.” you stroke him faster, his legs began to twitch, he could feel the cum filling up in his balls, ready to be released.

“i-i’m cu-cu…” he was speechless, he could barely get the words out before it was too late, white fluid came shoot out from his tip, getting everywhere, he came so much. it was all over your hands, some landing on your uncovered chest, on his shirt, even a little bit landed on your chin. “i-i’m sorry, i did–.” you kissed him. “so cute, you came so much.” you praised. “good boy.”

you cleaned yourself up, helping the boy clean himself up. “you feeling okay?” he shyly nodded. “th-thank you for that.” he spoke. “i’m sorry i couldn’t do the same for you.” he frowned, you grabbed his hand in reinsurance. “it’s fine anton, really we have all the time in the world to have sex okay?” you kissed his cheek. “o-okay.”

“good boy”

©️LUVYENI