#my phone camera is cruel to me
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several-mice ¡ 13 hours ago
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fly free canary!
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la-cocotte-de-paris ¡ 2 years ago
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XXVI.V.MMXXII
A statue of Joan of Arc in a local church, Durfort, France
Photographed by me
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inkskinned ¡ 1 year ago
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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seraphdreams ¡ 10 months ago
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SMILE, YOU'RE ON CAMERA. | YUUTA OKKOTSU.
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𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. when taking care of your university finances proves troublesome, the universe grants you your very own savior. but it’s gonna cost you.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, college au!yuuta / bimbo reader (obvi), filming, lots of porn references… a lot, virginity loss, praise, oral n fingering, slight obsession, pussydrunk yuuta, unprotected love making, yuuta’s rich and unsettling. mdni <3
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 5.3k
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! omg, yuuta? i meant to have this out a few weeks ago but got caught in a little writing slump :( nevertheless, here’s to a new year and a new fic! yuuta’s been slowly creeping his way up my favs list , tehe !! as always, please reblog / comment if you enjoyed this , it’ll fill me with joy. thank u ♡
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you’re a pornstar.
albeit, an amateur one with heaps to learn regarding the ruthless industry, but the weight still stands.
the details in which you came to the jarring conclusion were muddled with the convoluted steps that it took for you to get there, murky in your bubblegum-filled mind. all you knew was that yuuta okkotsu was a force, a gentle one, to be reckoned with.
it must’ve played out once you returned to your campus dorm beyond the dusk of midnight, under an unmitigating fatigue from the twelve hour waitressing shift just prior. through abhorrent patrons and the lack of a spendable paycheck, the excruciatingly long night barely made you enough money to even think about buying those dollish pumps you’ve been yearning for. how cruel.
in between working and haphazardly handing your earnings over to university fees and textbooks, you just couldn’t seem to make ends meet.
you would curse the day you took it upon yourself to branch away financially from your parents under the guise of growing up, since now it’d be a blessing to have even a cellphone bill paid off. whatever the issue seemed to be, lady luck was truly never bothered enough to be on your side.
fortunately for you, though, it was that same arduous night, you had been huddled against your stuffed animals in bed, mindlessly scrolling through the various social media apps on your phone; switching from sites like instagram and twitter to youtube then right back to instagram all over again, only to be met with an offer dusted in pink glitter that caught your eye as if it were made for you.
“stars needed — will pay upfront.”
it was a shoddy story post, one that could be clicked past and forgotten forever — yet, a brisk reminder of your situation in the form of borrowed, used textbooks with pages missing or vandalized, and today’s horoscope that said to take risks; you did exactly that, aiming a swipe up that would ultimately rid you of the worries of yesterday.
there were no reasons as to why you couldn’t be a star. certainly, you had the face for it, and you were told by multiple charmers that you were beyond beguiling to get anything you could ever ask for. what dismay could possibly unfold from contacting .. yuuta okkotsu .. about his offer?
hm, that’s funny. the name rang familiarity as it seeded in your mind.
must be one of yuuji’s friends.
itadori yuuji, your best friend of three years now. out of all the time you’d spent together, you came to realize that he could get along with anyone, despite their true intentions. he spoke highly of his friends as well, which earned him a sacred spot in your heart that couldn’t be replaced by anyone.
itadori had briefly mentioned in a ramen-fueled frenzy that one of his peers were “so insanely talented” and that you’d definitely get on with him. but when you asked for validity on that vague claim, all yuuji seemed to respond with was a mere “just meet him, you’ll see.”
from your recollection, the acquaintance he was boasting about, as if it was his own personal victory, was none other than your yuuta okkotsu. he was meek, stuck to a close-knit friend group consisting of maki and toge from your physics class, and the one time you ever spoke to him was to ask about yuuji’s whereabouts, to which he responded that he went back to his dorm after gojo-sensei’s lecture.
he seemed, normal. average, even. that surely had to be the case since your memory was hazy on his being otherwise.
it was true, though, yuuta was gifted. in a way that transcended words, skillful towards visual aesthetics, and careful with the craft. he would spend most of his freetime fumbling with a camera or recording the works of the mundane. overtly, he’d grown such a strong passion in the field of videography in hopes to capture the reality of humanity, the authenticity within intimacy — what could he possibly need a “star” for?
shadiness aside, you were in a tough spot, willing to do whatever to free yourself from the financial burden that was jujutsu technical university. with a swift swipe in tandem with the soft tapping of the pads of your thumbs on the keyboard, you were taking yuuta up on his offer.
within seconds, he responded back with his address and an appropriate meet-up date to start the project.
if only you were aware of how drastically your life would change from here on out.
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a cluster of days had passed since you last got into contact with yuuta. he had told you to meet him at his place, claiming it would be more efficient than traveling to an unnamed destination with pounds of heavy photography equipment.
where you stood currently, was in front of the bare oak of his front door, hand wrapped in a loose fist as you knocked gently on the wood. a quick moment had passed by before you took initiative to raise your fist and knock once more. before your touch could meet the wood, a muffled “coming!” chimed beyond the door. from what you had heard on the other side; the scuttling behind the door and jingle of the lock, yuuta had opened the door soon after.
with his hand rubbing away the goosebumps that stood at the back of his neck, he beamed. cordially, warmly.
“you’re actually here. hi,”
upon first glance, yuuta had a distinct look. he stood tall, not tall enough to matter or incite intimidation, and although he wore a black button-up (a bit formal for an occasion as casual as today), his lean build shone through under the thin fabric, ripples of veins dancing up his forearms. what you couldn’t miss, however, were the grey eyebags under his emotionless navy orbs, as if he’d forgone weeks of sleep.
yuuta okkotsu was unsettling.
“hi,” your voice sounded as a sweet croon, dulcet enough that you could barely hear it yourself as it escaped in a breathy breeze. his smile grew softer in response, that monotonous gaze in his eyes fizzling away into something of serenity. “come in, please,” yuuta held the door open wider for you to tread past, caught up in observing the bunch of fabric that hugged tightly around your ass, then closed it gently behind you once you stepped completely inside. he silently cursed at himself for ogling — he truly didn’t mean to stare. you’re just a lot prettier up close. “i was just getting set up. you can have a seat if you’d like.”
as you’d expect from any guy your age, his place wasn’t much to gaze at, nor did it have much personality. in a corner to your right was a houseplant, that of the fern variety, and a few steps deeper into the abode was the living room, where yuuta resumed his fumbling with the transfiguration of his tripod.
you decided to sit on the couch across from him, taking in the bleak sight of his home. you would have almost believed it was unlived in had it not been for the scattered midterm review papers decorating his coffee table. it was obvious he had money from the endless rows of space that surrounded the two of you, although a candle or something would be nice.
he peered away from his tripod to look through the viewfinder of his camera, ensuring that the lens was functioning properly. he grew pleased to see the image of you distracted in fiddling with your thumbs reflected back at him. “are you nervous?” his gaze fell upon you through his own eyes, a concerned expression harboring his features.
you were pulled out of your muse of unfamiliarity to direct your attention to the sound of his mild voice, returning a smile to his that eased the worriment trapped behind dull, blue eyes. “n-not really, i don’t think.”
his lips curled up once more at that, in fact there wasn’t a time so far that you hadn’t noticed him without his signature smile. “here, let me help with that,” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, tapping away at the screen before ultimately turning it back off and settling it back into its place in his pocket.
your phone vibrated beside you, screen lighting up with a bold alert.
[YUUTA OKKOTSU SENT $1000]
before you had a chance to even process the significance of the notification, he started back up,
“i hope i got the right information, wouldn’t want your hard work to get in the wrong hands.” the tilt of his head in tandem with a chuckle resonated sheepishly, and he returned to watch you through his camera lens.
he was right. the money did soothe your nerves.
“i’ve barely done anything yet.” a ditzy giggle followed soon after your sentence, a sound that yuuta couldn’t possibly ignore. you were already starting to pull at his heartstrings.
“and you’ve done it so perfectly,” his praise left you flustered in that moment and you bit down softly on your lower lip to keep your smile at bay. “thank you, yuuta.”
you would’ve never guessed that your introverted classmate had enough experience in him to be such a flirt, or have your cheeks heating up with fervid affection, no less. but maybe yuuta was just like that; maybe this had been natural.
“no, thank you.” his thumb hovered over the record button just as his eyes met your gaze over the brim of the camera. “would you like to start now?”
he took the nod of your head as confirmation to press the record button, finally getting started with the project.
you blinked blankly at him as he tilted his head and flashed a warmhearted grin. “how old are you?” was his first question. he had asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. as he did so, you took notice of the silver ring donned around his finger.
he couldn’t have been married, no?
keeping your answer as vague as possible for the sake of matching his comforting warmth, you responded, “twenty-something.” he let out a satisfied huff of air as he nodded and moved onto his next query.
“and what’s your major?”
with the question barely having enough time to linger in the suggestively tense air, he added, “you’re very beautiful, by the way. do you mind taking your dress off for me?”
as much as it should’ve alarmed you, you were swayed by his toothachingly inviting timbre, its gentleness pulling compliancy from you in a matter of a few mere words. you only shook your head, forgoing the short piece of fabric that clung to each curve and dip of your body while your nipples hardened under the glacial, artificial breeze of his home. once the silk pooled at your hips, that, along with your panties were dropped onto the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable under the camera — and yuuta’s watchful eye.
he swallowed thickly at the sight, remaining as respectful as he could despite the monster growing in his pants; his eyes locked right back onto yours as if he’d get striked down for moving them even a millimeter south. “are you a virgin?” he queried, opting to move his hand from awkwardly at his side to fidgeting with the button at his shirt, ultimately undoing it and revealing another inch of skin at his heated chest.
from the nature of what you had signed yourself up for, you were hesitant to answer his question. of course you needed experience to be a star, and with you lacking the preconceived ability, you could kiss your $1000 goodbye..
yet he looked at you with an expectant gaze. no traces of malice in his eyes or frustration from your quick witted silence, but merely, with patience. and in that moment you couldn’t find it within yourself to lie.
“i am,” out of shame, you curled in on yourself, hoping that the sofa would engulf you, and your feelings, crossing your arms over your bare chest as if it’d create a wall of privacy behind your own humiliation. “is that okay?”
yuuta’s being only grew warmer at the response, you figured he’d be hot to the touch by now, from searing pleasure or unshakeable cordiality, you wouldn’t know. “yeah, that’s okay,” it came out breathier than he would’ve liked, a telltale sign of his aching desire. “that’s more than okay.”
truth be told, he had never met anyone as enchanting as you. you looked up at him with such trust in your eyes that it daunted him — fear that the assurance he wielded from you would shatter beneath him, and he’d be drowning. in a sea of his own wistfulness. now that he had you, he couldn’t let you go.
you were on to make a breathtaking star.
now feeling less coy than before, you relaxed your head into the palm of yuuta’s hand. you hadn’t noticed how long he’d been stroking at your cheek, or when he closed the vexing proximity between the two of you, all that mattered in that moment was the roll of his gentle vocables flowing through your ears and the thumb of his that graciously caressed your cheek.
you came to realize that he was much more handsome this way as your eyes toured his own, then down to the sliver of sweat-sheened skin peeking from underneath the black veil of his shirt, then down to his…
he’s so fucking hard.
confined against his slacks was his cock that leaked an ample amount even while it was untouched. you could make out its silhouette, something girthy, perhaps heavy, but nothing like you’d expect from yuuta. uncharacteristically huge.
“yuuta.” you whispered, mainly to yourself, as your mouth began to water at the sight, and his cheeks dusted pink once he realized what you were fixated upon.
“do you wanna,” he started up but faltered soon after when your lidded gaze flitted back up towards his. never had he felt so weak before, it was as if you’d casted a spell on him. “do you maybe want to—” he paused to avert his own gaze and embarrassment. “—put it in your mouth?”
he could’ve sworn he heard the increase of his heartbeat in his ears when you crinkled your brows, pretty face forming into an even prettier pout.
“but i’ve never—”
he stopped you before you could start, interjecting his own voice of reassurance.
“it’s okay. i’ll guide you,” taking his camera off its stand and moving the rest of the configuration elsewhere, he held it in one hand to better capture the scene unfolding before him. “just try your best for me, okay?”
“okay.” when he returned your concern with a small smile, you took it upon yourself to undo the arrangement of his pants, carefully hooking your finger into the elastic waistband of his briefs and pulling down just enough for his length to spring free.
for what felt like minutes, you marveled at his sheer size, wondering how anyone of his nature could possibly be hiding something like that. it curved upwards with a prominent vein or two running up the underside while it continued to leak, so much so, that you had to collect it all at the tip with your finger.
the tip? flushed the prettiest pink you’d ever witnessed and was as bulbous as it was mushroomed, you knew you’d have a bit of difficulty trying to fit into your mouth. it seemed to twitch under the fanning of your breath to which yuuta let out a whine of pure impatience.
“can i..?” your words trailed off when you involuntarily found yourself pressing chaste kisses along the length of his cock until they met with his sticky tip; a recreated scene from the various porn videos you’d seen. the sensation sent a jolt of palpable pleasure through his being, yuuta’s dark hair curtaining over his eyes while he made a damn good attempt at silencing his moans, with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip.
your eyes kept watch at his wavering expression while you wrapped your hand at the base of his length and began to pump slowly, yet another thing you had learned through the fascinating world of porn.
“suck it,” it was clear to you that yuuta had grown desirously impatient from your teasing, looking down at you with a hint of hunger in his beautiful orbs. “please?”
you took his words as an incentive to finally give him what he’s been leaking for, wrapping gloss-sheened lips around the thick inches of his tip, accommodating for the stretch with a dulcet whine that reverberated deeply within him. had you not been caught up in building the gradual bob of your head, he would’ve kissed you, left you with smeared lips and a tongue that ached for only him upon seeing the sinful sight of innocent eyes fixated on his own. you’re beautiful. truly, to die for.
caught all on tape to be watched over and over again.
at the bliss, yuuta’s lip parted open, alotting for a slur of groans turned whimpers to tumble past. “you- you’re already doing, so good.” he praises, the words floating on his breath. his free hand finds itself back at your face, thumbing the warmth of your hallowed cheek while he captured the moment behind his lens. once you came to a comfortable rhythm, you couldn’t stop yourself from dipping your fingers between your thighs to ease the evergrowing ache in your core. in fact, you’d been like this since the moment yuuta spoke a word to you, lightheaded and malleable — what he’s beginning to love most about you.
your digits collected slick at your entrance, the immeasurable amount of essence that you’d pool providing ample leeway for you to sink three fingers inside, pumping at the same rhythm in which you’re sucking yuuta. soft fingertips curling against your gummy walls weren’t enough, though, and when he had caught notice of your weakening resolve, his hips involuntarily bucked into your mouth.
“sorry, ‘m sorry,” he began, with a choked moan. “just- so close, so fucking close. c-can you take me in deeper?”
the hum of assurance that sounded from you sent vibrations coursing through his cock, from tip to base. had you not been preoccupied with chasing your own high, you would’ve missed the pitchy moan he let out just after. with your palm now pressed up against your clit while you worked in tandem to pleasure the nub and your greedy hole, you attempted to swallow another stubborn inch of him.
simultaneous with the bobbing of your head, he matched your pace, abdomen flexing when the white-hot pleasure became too much and he could feel it in his ears. he wanted so badly to throw his head back, completely lose himself in bliss, but he had a job to do. he wouldn’t dare let the sight of your glassy lidded eyes and glossy lips struggling to wrap themselves around the stretch of his dick go unfilmed, unseen.
as his tip continued to prod the back of your throat and your fingers aided you in relieving the discomfort from your cunt, you found yourself just dangling off the dangerous edge of your release, strokes away from making a mess — and yuuta did too.
it wasn’t long until his head started spinning, legs got weaker, and his core coiled tighter; all the signs of a mindblowing orgasm, and blew his mind, you did. “baby- y/n, if you keep doing that- i might cum.” what he was referring to was the way you fondled his balls in the warmth of your soft hands, yet another trick you had learned from porn. “i don’t wanna cum in your mouth but if you—,”
a jumbled slew of curses flowed from his lips as he did the inevitable, shot his load deep down your throat, gently thrusting his cock in shallow strokes to jettison every last remaining drop. the taste on your tongue was nothing like you’d be warned of before. yuuta wasn’t bitter, he went down easy.
hell, you’d use his cum as a condiment for desserts if you could.
in a matter of moments, your own high had washed over you like cold water over a heated body, much needed and refreshing. once he hesitantly pulled out from the heat of your mouth, cock still hard and twitching for more, he gently pushed back strands of loose hair behind your ear.
“can i see?”
you held out your cream-slickened fingers, sopping with your juices as yuuta proceeded to catch how they dripped on camera. he then took your palm, with the cadence of a knight kissing the back of a princess’s hand, and slipped the soiled digits into his mouth. his tongue lavved around your index and middle fingers while he hummed satisfactorily at your taste. “you’re just as sweet as i imagined.” he smiled, finding amusement in your post-orgasmic, dazed state.
“do you do this with a lot of other girls, yuuta?” you queried, taking the time to scan your eyes over his face. it was as if he seemed to get more attractive as your time with him went on. he tilted his head slightly, finding your question endearing. “you’re my first, actually.” yuuta responded softly, as if his normal speaking voice would be too heavy on your delicate ears.
you jumped at the chance to tease him as he did you, placing your thumb back over the slit of his hard-on and lightly rubbing; which resonated within yuuta as a tonal mewl. a little smile pulled at your lips when you got your perfect reaction. “can you be my first?”
“i’d love to be,” he took your request with unadulterated honor as if he’d been tasked by the deities above to serve you. “just- just lay back for me. i promise i’ll take good care of you.”
and that you did; conforming to his call of request with such compliance it made his heart swell. you had positioned your body to rest languidly against the seat of the sofa, shaky legs hesitant to spread fully while your hand roamed up your sternum to find solace in kneading your tits.
he couldn’t deny how beautiful you looked, laid out for him as such. how had he been so lucky to be the only one to have the opportunity to marvel at the scene? with a steady hand, he faintly trails his hand up the expanse of your inner thigh, a silent beckon for you to open your legs wider. involuntarily so, your body had accepted his presence and allowed for the spreading of your thighs.
what you’d come to notice with yuuta was that he was watchful, observant. he seemed to pick up on every detail, even the minuscule bits that were most likely to fly over anyone else’s head, had been taken into account. it’s probably why he’s immensely proficient at what he does. not once had he allowed himself to miss the labored heaving of your chest, or the sheen of sweat thinly coating your body — the twitching of your clit when he stroked featherlight touches at the nub. he couldn’t call himself a true cameraman then.
his fingers had collected remnants of your previous orgasm before they worked in tandem, both middle and ring, to prod at your sensitive hole, slowly sinking themselves in. it was almost embarrassing how quickly your greedy cunt swallowed him in, as if it’d been waiting for his touch for years now. “y-yuuta, ‘m still sensitive.” you crooned in response to his digits exploring your cavern, plush walls gripping him with such tautness that he’d found it difficult to even curl his fingers.
his own mind spun (and cock leaked) at the thought of that same warmth around his length, and when you called his name, all he could think about was how pretty you’d sound moaning it. he wouldn’t mind if you were sonorous, if the neighbors would hear, if inumaki who lived downstairs would come knocking with a mouthful of complaints, if the whole world knew his name; because in that moment, yuuta okkotsu was yours.
yuuta okkotsu was in love.
after some shallow pumping, enough to have your legs attempting to enclose around his arm, yuuta had pulled his digits out and replaced the lost sensation with the fat tip of his cock stroking your slit up and down.
“i’m gonna put it in, okay? if you want me to stop, tell me. if i'm going too fast or slow, let me know.”
he perused your face for a hint of an answer, seemingly nothing going on behind your vacant, large eyes. your initial response was curt, an ode to the simplistic nature of your mind. “mhm.”
how endearing you were to him, just a unadorned reaction weakening his being, causing his heart to figuratively crumble within its confines against his ribcage. he had searched for a heartier answer, something tangible to hold on to, because, lord knows how terrible he’d feel if he took your indication the wrong way. “can you be vocal for me, please?”
you nodded your head. “i’ll let you know, yuuta.”
with a carefulness that only came from the most benign of beings, he had sunken the first inch of himself into your awaiting heat.
he was paused when your hand dashed to his lower abdomen, futilely pressing against the skin.
“wait—” you huffed wantonly. “—‘s too big.”
his eyes wavered with concern, hidden under the veil of pure arousal. in yuuta’s case he had dreamed of a compliment as self fulfilling as yours, for his thoughts of being average were shattered upon first inch. “should i stop?”
you shook your head, reveling in the light of his attentivity towards you and your body. “no,” you moved your hand from his abdomen. “don’t stop.”
one of his arms rested beside your head, helping to prop him up over your body while he dropped his head down to watch the way your bodies connected. gradually, the sight of his length slowly sinking inside, stretching you out further and further until he was in to the hilt flooded his vision. yuuta had caught on to your labored gasps, merely growing harder from your honeyed voice like music to his ears.
he then lifted his head, strands of inky, out-of-place tresses falling over his face and partially covering the depth of lingering eyes, that lingered for a second too long, causing that shuddering sensation you had once felt when you first met him to reappear. he held his camcorder beside his face, an all too cheerful grin masked over his features. “i’m all in!”
creepy.
there was no doubt that you hadn’t felt full. he practically spilled over with how much girth he possessed and throbbed innately within your walls. the swell of your tummy from just how deep he was, was enough to tear away at his composure and drag his length back before driving his hips in at a force unrecognizable to him. the yelp you had let out from his eager thrust dwindled into a blissful moan. “sorry, so sorry.” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the faultless assortment of breathtaking features that was your face, eyebrows creased together, parted lips and eyes squeezed closed as if you’d been focused solely on the pleasure he was giving you.
his next thrust stroked softer than its predecessor, having no remnants of eagerness but instead, the nuance of a man that’d been simply smitten.
the meticulousness of his ministrations coursed through your body wondrously, each push and pull lathered in lust, savored to be remembered for the rest of his time on earth. it was as if he’d known your body for years, knew every dip and fold, every swell and mast, aware of what exactly it took to leave your body hungry for his touches.
you’d grown comfortable in the pace at which he set, your mind hazing over each time the blunt tip grazed along your gspot. he peppered kisses along your jaw and down your sternum, the fanning of his warm breath against your chest doing the minimum in stiffening the peaks of your breasts. shootable footage forgotten, yuuta took your mound into his mouth, teeth gently rolling against your nipple which caused you to tighten around his cock in response, the sweetest mewl he’s ever heard from you tumbling from your throat.
“at least take me on a date first, yuuta..” the wittiness of your voice had earned a stifled smile from him, finding utmost admiration in the suggestion. he’ll be sure to take you up on your offer, just as you had done for him.
when you felt the familiar coil within you starting to build up once more, you dipped your hand down to rub at your clit in tandem with the increasing vigor of his strokes. the sensation was all too foreign to you, too pleasurable that you couldn’t keep your sounds at bay. “‘m so close, g-gonna cum!” you had warned, yuuta pulled away from your tit with a soft pop. he chose to rest his head at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, mindlessly chanting the words like a mantra.
“i love you, i love you,” his pace faltered, growing sloppier by the second. “love you, love you so much.”
intoxicated by your heat, your scent, just you being you, and being so perfect — yuuta was pussydrunk. incredibly so. never in his life had he ever felt as high as you made him. you were an angel, sent to him from heaven, to defile and mark.
quickly, your release surged through you in torrents of ecstasy, nothing that you’ve experienced before, coating yuuta’s cock in the glorious essence of you. “cumming!” you cry, to no avail particularly since yuuta wasn’t wholeheartedly aware of the situation at hand. his mind was clouded with you, just as you were full of him, wincing in the aftershocks of your fervent orgasm and convulsing around his length with need.
it wasn’t long before his own ununified thrusts came to a sudden close, signifying the warm spurts of cum painting your insides, filling you entirely to the brim and leaking down your ass from riding out his high.
“god, i love you.” he whined, pressing faint kisses to your neck, unable to peel himself away from your fervid body. coming to your senses, his words finally resonated for you. “we only just met.”
he pulled himself up, opting to look down at your flushed face with a vague hint of confusion on his face as he tilted his head. “have we?”
“we have.” you nodded.
to yuuta, he’s known you his whole life. you were the light of his existence, the fire in his heart. had he managed to confuse you with someone else? surely, that wasn’t the case.
once he pulled out of you, he made sure to capture the moment that you leaked his seed on film, but in that time, borrowed jealousy had filled his soul. he couldn’t share the tape as he had planned, no one else deserved to see you in the same way he did. no one.
he tucked himself back into his pants, leaving you bare and oozing for just one second to fetch a warm wet rag to clean you up with. when he came back, you noticed just how chipper he’d gotten, if that were even possible. “you were amazing,” he smiled, gently wiping your folds pristine. “i’m so grateful you came to me.” the smile you returned matched his own, “thank you, you were- really good too.”
he perked up, eyes moving from between your thighs to your face. “really?” and when you nodded to him, you could see the apparent relief flow within his being. “you know,” he started. “i’m very interested in you.”
you tilt your head, jutting your lips in a cute pout. “interested, how?”
the camcorder that now resided on his coffee table, unpresumebly documenting the scene on display was picked up by yuuta, and turned off. he grinned softly, eyes shutting from his ear to ear smile.
“may i take you on a date?”
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ervotica ¡ 11 months ago
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hehe dark!rafe fucking jj's ex bc she spiraling after the break up and using hella drugs so he's just degrading & using her however bc she's beneath him and he can't help but record it and send it to the male pouge's
warnings; DARK, smut (18+ only), drug use, dub-con (r is HEAVILY under the influence and not very aware), throat fucking, fingering, slight daddy kink, breathplay, degradation (I may have gone insane with this one I fear)
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A cruel hand is splayed against the top of your spine where the base of your neck begins, subduing you enough to keep you from thrashing as Rafe curls his fingers against the spongy walls of your cunt. You're alight with pleasure, the lick of a flame igniting your every muscle as you gargle into the sheets below you; you're not entirely sure how you got here but your drug addled brain is too hazy with the white-hot euphoria he is so kindly granting you.
He groans at your blank eyes, breath hot on your skin as he licks a long line against the column of your throat and bites down, taking great enjoyment in the way you wriggle and whine.
"Please," you gasp out, that coil in your belly drawing tighter the longer he keeps his fingers nestled against that spot deep in your pussy that makes you scream.
"Please, what?"
"Please, daddy. Lemme cum."
"Attagirl." His grin is wolfish, teeth pointed and bared like a predator. "Little fuckin' whore, aren'tcha, kid? Bet Maybank never made you feel this good."
You shake your head vehemently, almost incomprehensible where you're drooling into the pillow beneath your balmy face.
He tweaks his fingers once more and suddenly the dull flame of bliss has roared to life, squeezing every one of your muscles like tendrils as you gush and your hole clenches around his thick digits.
The muted roar of white noise is all you can hear for a good while; eyes rolling, lashes fluttering, limp and spent from just one orgasm.
You don't see him next but rather you feel him. A thick mushroom head prodding against your swollen lips, the taste of bitter precum on your tongue as he feeds his cock down your spasming throat. A gag rips through you but he pushes past it, unfazed by your own discomfort as he chases the feeling of your tender gullet tightening around him.
"Yeahhh, that's good," he unabashedly moans, deep and gravelly. His cock pushes at the thin skin of your neck, flesh bulging as he settles your nose in the thatch of hair at his pubic bone, heavy sack pressing lewdly atop your gurgling mouth with every rut of his hips.
Bubbles of spit ooze from the corners of your stretched lips and then you're suddenly blinded by white light. The flash of a phone camera crowds your vision and Rafe doubles down, hips pistoning against your slack face as he groans and grunts, degrading insults pouring from his mouth.
"Dirty slut, all you're good for 's takin' dick, right? Just a filthy little hole for me to use when 'm bored."
You purl and choke around him in an effort to voice your complaints, but all it seems to do is spur him on further.
"G'na have this throat trained in no time, kid. You're my personal cocksleeve from now on."
He wrenches himself away despite being seemingly on the precipice of blowing his load; you gasp and whimper as he turns to prop the still recording phone on the dresser behind him, twisting a large handful of your mussed hair around his hand and dragging you across the expanse of the king sized bed. Your neck contorts in an odd sort of manner as he positions you with your head hanging upside-down from the side of the plush mattress. It gives him ample leverage to use you without care; he's not bothered if you pass out, he'll use you either way.
It's rough, borderline abusive, how he fucks your throat. Hard and fast and unrelenting despite your almost continuous retching and slapping feebly at his thick thighs. The bulge in the divot of the soft flesh only becomes more prominent, his spongy head pushing from the inside as though it's trying to rip through you.
His hand reaches between his own legs to plug your nostrils and a menacing chuckle hits your ears as your vision blurs and your eyes lose focus and roll to the back of your skull.
He lets up just as you're on the cusp of unconsciousness, dick never leaving your warm cavern as he reaches blindly behind him for the phone. Forearms dig cruelly into your ribcage as he props himself up and zooms the camera in on your sopping, swollen cunt, parting your petal soft lips and slipping two fingers inside to bully another orgasm from you.
"If I were you, Maybank, I'd have never given up this tight cunt," Rafe rasps. "Fucked the poor thing dumb, already. 'M keeping her."
He presses send before you can protest- not that you'll ever be able to. You'll be too cockdrunk to ever notice what he's done.
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starcrossedreaders ¡ 11 months ago
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A/N: Tumblr is LACKING in Toge headcanons and over all fics, so I'm here to help the cause. These headcanons do have NSFW under the cut and will be marked with '✥' so MDNI!!! Dividers are from benkeibear on Tumblr
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✦ StreamerToge! is the type to make a whole ass living off of streaming with a schedule and everything. He has his whole gaming room that gives off a minimalist white vibe with posters and figurines everywhere.
✦ StreamerToge! Who keeps his streaming schedule up on a whiteboard somewhere in the house so you see it and know.
✦ StreamerToge! Who begs for snacks when he games.
Toge <3: Please, just some cheese 🤲🏽 You: Seriously cheese? Toge <3: Mommy?🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️ You: fine. "Yay, chat I'm getting cheese."
✦ StreamerToge! He finds ways to slip you into the conversation with chat, like he could be mid Val game and he's rambling.
"Yea no, I don't know how I pulled them when my only real defining trait is the grind on Val." "Like no seriously, they are just with me for the carry."
✦ StreamerToge! Who (if you played games too) would beg for you to join him with his games, even if you don't stream yourself he still enjoys the quality time together.
✦ StreamerToge! If you aren't the type to play games he would for sure put like a small couch, day bed, or chair somewhere just so you can spend time with him while he games. He calls it the Y/N corner because he would keep your favorite blankets, a plushie, and maybe a snack drawer somewhere near your spot.
Scrolling on your phone, you walked towards Toge's gaming room. He's been streaming for a few hours and you thought it was finally time to join him. Opening the room door, his laughs flooded out of the room before you stepped in and closed the door behind you again. Toge didn't notice you step in and sit down in your little corner till his chat started blowing up. divinedawgs: RIP to chat Jennifer4lifers: is that who I think it is⁉⁉⁉⁉ strongerinurmom: still amazes me that bro could pull 3panda: didn't you literally get rejected on your last stream? strongerinurmom: stfu sakibara: naw I'm with stronger how did bro pull at 10 while be a 4 Toge turned around to see you sitting down while scrolling on your phone, his smile could light up the whole room as he took his headset off to around in his chair. "Hey, my love." He pushed his chair towards you leaving his current match behind. Looking up from your phone you smile as Toge leans down to scatter kisses across your face. "I love you," he mumbled over your lips before he kissed you. "I love you too." divinedawgs: please turn your camera off when you do that shit strongerinurmom: bro is fr rubbing it in Jennifer4lifers: jealous fr fr
✦ StreamerToge! Even when you act annoyed to bring him snacks you still interrupt his streams to bring him dinner
✥ StreamerToge! If you get annoyed with his constant streaming and lack of attention you would definitely give him that under-the-desk support to hopefully get him to get off and give you attention.
You supported your boyfriend and his successful career with streaming. What you didn't support was how much of his time he's put into it recently. His excuse? "I need to give the fans good content before the holidays, it helps keep money coming in. I swear once I'm done I'm all yours." That stupid excuse is what led you to your current situation. Tears ran down your face as the tip of Toge's dick kissed the back of your throat. Looking up past your lashes was a sight that would bring you to your knees if you weren't already there. Toge squeezes his eyes shut as he throws his head back trying not to groan. His bottom lip was caged between his teeth and he opened his eyes to try to focus on the game in front of him. Gagging you pulled your head up, leaving a trail of pre-cum and saliva mixture from your lips to his raging red tip. He let out a big sigh, taking the time to try to compose himself, but what type of girlfriend would you be if you didn't him finish? A cruel one that's for sure. Despite the palm of his hand trying to push your head back you continued to hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down chasing for his release.
✥ StreamerToge! If you streamed with him, or just in general he definitely seems the type to try to convince you to stream with one of those Bluetooth vibrators.
You've never regretted agreeing to one of Toge's idea till now. The shorts you had on were soaked, along with your chair. Your thighs twitched once more as another orgasm ran through your body. Black and white dots danced around your vision and the game in front of you faded in and out of your vision. Before you could slump your body you could hear your friends through your headset. "Seriously Y/N are you sure you're okay?" opening your eyes they roamed around till they landed on your second monitor where you had the chat pulled up. Jennifer4lifers: OH NO ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE OKAY Y/N?!?!? sakibara: Girl is going through it rn strongerinurmom: calling for medical help as we SPEAK 3panda: get help divinedawgs: bruh riceballwh0re: poor baby :(((
✥ StreamerToge! He definitely tells his stream that he has to take a fat shit when he is actually running to your guy's shared room to fit in a quickie before his next match.
✥ StreamerToge! Hot and sloppy make-out sessions before each one of his streams, he claims that it gives him the luck he needs to win his games.
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A/N: damn it's been a long ass time since I have written in a creative matter, so hopefully you guys enjoyed this. Requests are open but they might take a while to get to so please keep that in mind. I hope you enjoyed the new JJK content I hope to be writing more soon!
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luludeluluramblings ¡ 2 months ago
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Dick Grayson's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader
A/N: Why dialogue hard? Why so hard? Y'all I tried, once again. I saved Dick for last because I really really really did not want to screw up his character. I did end up adding a scene from Part Seven in here. Just to give it some pizzazz.
A/N: Part Eight is in the works, but it’s either gonna be massive or I’m going to have to divide it up. Also, people be posting so straight up fire in the Yandere Bat tags lately. Good stuff, I needed that.
Warnings: Yandere themes, physical affection.
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Out of everyone, Dick was the most enthusiastic about Reader coming to Wayne manor, while also being the most melancholic. The tragedy of their arrival wasn't lost on him, despite the thrill he had over the thought of having another person to add to hi life. Already, the need and wanted to smoother them in comfort and care was there. But, the life experiences he had allowed him to realize it was probably best not to overwhelm them.
Therefore, it came out in short burst of staggering affection at times. But, only when he was visiting. (There was no denying the fact that he was extremely tempted to call them on the phone just to make sure they were settling in just fine. And, that he fought that temptation every single night.)
That didn't stop him from feeling some minor annoyance with Bruce for keeping the fact that they existed a secret. Dick had seen the affects of this life and even felt them, but to let the family nearly miss out on something so honeyed with normalcy was cruel. (It would have been preferred if they didn't have to lose their parents in order to join the rest of the family, but it was hard to think like with how busy his schedule was and soft they felt in his arms.)
Admittedly he may have latched on to them too hard in the beginning. They felt stiff the first time his arms wrapped around them. The guilt of it gurgled in his throat, which is why he cut it short and went about his business. But, he couldn't stop the urge to do so each time they crossed each other's paths in the manor halls.
And, much to his glee, they start to soften. Slowly, but surly, they start to cling to him a little longer when his arms wrap around them. They start to depend on him. For once the thought of someone so conventional depending on him as Dick rather than as Nightwing, because everyone seems to depend on him as Nightwing, doesn't fill him with anxiety. It makes his chest flutter in a different way. Not with anxious butterflies, but with a flicker of a warmth.
It's completely innocent, the way the craving starts. He has to talk himself out of rearranging his entire schedule to be around them. Especially after the kidnapping incident. But, the Rouge break out gives him plenty of work to distract himself, and more frequent chances to find them in the manor for a dose of his new source of comfort.
His feelings finally start to become clear when rather than holding him longer and tighter, they finally reach for him themselves.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
“And, how is my favorite person today?” Already Dick has his arms opened wide for you when you walk out of the kitchen. He always appears from the depths of the manor, before he wraps around you like a slow creeping vine blooming with all sorts of sentiments.
"Alfred was doing good last I saw." But, by now you've grown to appreciate the way the tendrils curl around your limbs and burrow themselves into you. A small grin forming on your face at the chance to finally have someone to talk to, even if he isn't consistent company.
"Alfred isn't my favorite person, and you know it." The banter between them enjoyable and the undertones of his words ignorable in your obliviousness. "But, seriously, how are you doing today? You look like you have something on your mind. If it is you can tell me, you know that right?" The concern pouring put of his lips, as his grip tightens.
He had seen you through the cameras and had overheard the longing phone calls. The fact that your birthday was coming up had crossed his mind, and the realization that this would be your first without your parents did register in his brain. (But, it would also be you first with them. With him.) Bringing it up to you seemed like a bad idea. But, he would still try to encourage you to spill your feelings to him.
"No, no. It's nothing I promise." Your reply was soft and dismissive. But, the dishonesty was noticeable in it still.
Dick's arms seemed to tighten around you as you spoke, as if he was trying to decode the root of your troubles from the way your heart was beating against his chest. Eventually, he does loosen his limbs around you.
As he looks down, you known and he knows you’re lying. For a moment you think he going to push. To try to choke the words out of your lungs with another tight squeeze. But, he doesn't. Instead he lets you breathe.
"Okay," is all he says.
No extra nor unnecessary words. No constant reassurance that he'll always be there for you. Just a single word and the room to breathe. Those other things have already been said. Multiple times, in fact.
It's this one instance where he lets you breath that somehow gives you lungs the air it needs to blurt out what's bothering you as he pulls away.
"I wanna go home." The words escape your lips when you finally exhale and reach for him. The words coarse. "I just really want to go home for a bit. I miss home. I miss my family. I just—“
Dick doesn't even let you get halfway before he's enveloping you again. A slight tremble in his hands as he sprouts around you once more.
This. This is what he's wanted. You coming to him with your raw feelings. And, he knows he's the first person you've said this to at all.
"How can I help you?" He asks instead of questioning the statement.
"Can you help me convince Bruce to let me go, please, Dick?” The tentative way you ask and look up at him has him caving immediately.
"Of course!" Perhaps it was a good thing you didn't grow up in Wayne manor. If Bruce hadn't spoiled you, he most definitely would have. "I'll bring it up to B as soon as he gets back."
"He's gone?" You hadn't been informed of him even leaving, but then again, you were hardly every informed about anything it seems.
"Yeah, work emergency. It wasn't a big deal, but he'll be back soon." Dick can sense the mild tone shift, but manages to shift it back to something more lighthearted. "I'll make sure to butter him up for you. I swear. Puppy-dog eyes and everything."
It works, because before he can even clutch you to his chest you already wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled yourself towards him. Just the way you hug him tells him how genuine this type of embrace is. This is how you hold people. And, now, this is how you hold him.
"Thank you, Dick. Thank you." Comes your muffled reply into his chest.
The way you nuzzle into him like that's where you belong, because that's where you do belong, and the way you say his name causes his heart to melt. And, his mind to slowly sinks into the puddle it became.
Dick could stay like this for hours, but you start to pull away after a solid minute.
"I should let you get going. I know you got a lot of stuff to do." Your words sound so hopeful and understanding as you him go. The way you look up at him like he is your hero just for this simple small thing is touching.
Inwardly, he curses. The criminals of Gotham. The criminals of BlĂźdhaven, the team, the family, his schedule. Everything. He curses it all for that moment, because he could be holding you to his chest longer and having you look up at him like that instead. But, he lets it pass. He manages to let it go just as you pull away.
"Yeah, I do. But, don't think I'm going to brush off helping my favorite person in the world." Plastering on a well practiced pretty smile as he speaks.
"So, that means you got somebody more important off world? I see how it is." You tease in return as you fall for the practiced charm.
"Maybe." Dick lets the banter easy his mind. In reality, even off this world, you're probably his favorite, still. It should scare him, but it doesn't. "I'll let you know how Bruce takes the request. But, I'm prepared to sneak you out of here if necessary."
"I'll get the spy music ready, just incase." Things are starting to look up, and it's nice to have someone in your corner in this massive estate.
"Mission Impossible theme?" His grin become less practiced at the thoughts of having an adventure with you.
"Nah, the Pink Panther one. Just for the shenanigans." Your own grin growing wider and wider.
"Now I want to sneak you out just for fun." And, he means it. Already mentally planning your trip back home with him escorting you. And, then you possibly coming and staying in BlĂźdhaven with him in his guest room. Just to get you out of the manor, of course. Clearly you need it.
He can't ignore the way his pocket keeps buzzing, though. Clearly the others are in the cave waiting for him. But, they can wait a bit longer, he thinks diving in for one last embrace.
As you wholeheartedly reciprocate, he can see one of the secret security camera out the corner of his eye and he can't stop the smug smile from forming on his face as his gives you one last squeeze in front of it.
With the way his phone stills, he can tell the rest of them saw. It's not his fault they're too scared of physical affection to actually hug you. But, it does give him a monopoly on it with you.
As he makes his way down to the Batcave there's a skip in his step and that smug smile is still on his face.
He makes sure to look at everyone's faces as he joins them. Soaking up their envy. All of that wasn't to make them jealous, but it's kind of nice to have.
"Was all that necessary, Grayson?" Damian being the first to break the silence by practically spitting the words out through his gritted teeth. Even with his perfect poster the tension coiling in his limbs is visible to the untrained eye.
"Someone's got to be the one to do it, little D. And, clearly, they needed it." Dick's tone was placating, but his smile wasn't. The way he stands in the center of the room reminiscent of an orchestra conductor.
"Don't use them as an excuse for your touch-starved tendencies, Dick." Barbara retorted, rolling in her chair towards another computer. She immediately began typing on it at a furious pace, clearly trying to distract herself.
"Low blow, Babs." He whistled in return. Everyone else seemed focused on giving him the silent treatment causing his grin to widen further. "I can't help that I'm a naturally-"
"I just texted Bruce about it." Duke suddenly says, looking up from his phone with a smug grin. He face had been blank before, but the way his eyes glanced up at Dick and the others when there heads jerk towards him showed off a hint of self-satisfaction.
"That's cheating." Childishly spills from Dick's mouth. This was suppose to be his favor to them. His. Not anyone else's.
"Bruce doesn't get text while in the Watchtower." Stephanie points out while uncurling from her seat, but the damage is done.
"Could we contact Father in the Watchtower?" Damian practically leaps from his seat and rushes to the Batcomputer where Tim sits. Alliances quickly being drawn up.
"He'd be pissed if we contacted him for something like this." Jason adds with a grin. He doesn't bother looking up from cleaning his guns, just not at all bothered by the prospect of pissing Bruce off.
"But, then message would be logged into the League data base." Comes Barbara's stern voice from her computer, her typing coming to a pause. Tim still keeps at whatever he was working on before Dick walked into the cave, but on the screen there is a flash of airline websites so it's fairly easy to conclude what his plan of persuasion is.
Cassandra watches the exchange reading the emotions through everyone's movements. Silently, she throws her bid in as well. Choosing to slide over to Stephanie and signing the making of a plan.
From there it spirals into an all out argument between each and every member of the family. Debating logistics and exchanging petty insults that seems to go on for hours. Hardly anything gets done while words are being thrown around like bullets.
In the back of his mind, Dick once again curses everyone and everything for ruining this for him. But, he reassures himself, the banter from earlier comes back to him.
It's a decent plan, he thinks. Sneaking Reader out of the manor. Convincing Bruce would be ideal, but it wouldn't be the first time he's broken the rules. And, it's for their happiness and well being. They need him. They asked him for his help. Not the other's. Not anyone else's. His. Bruce will understand.
Besides, it would be nice to see the Smalltown they grew up in. It sounds like a quaint little place. What could possibly be wrong with it?
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prettyfastcars ¡ 11 months ago
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He has me by my heart | Mob!Lando x Reader
Summary: Lando is bad for you. You know that, countless people have told you this. But no matter how corrupted, dark, and wicked he was. No matter how possessive, jealous, and insane he could be, almost childishly so. Despite it all, he had you by your heart, and there was no getting away from him. 
Themes: mob!lando, daddy kink, smut, explicit language, possessive!lando, 
a/n: you know those videos of Lando being escorted by police in italy yeahhhh
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You saw it on the news. 
Then again, everyone did. Ever since he was arrested a few weeks ago, people tuned in any moment they could to follow his story. He was well-known, filthy rich, and dangerous. He went against the law a lot. But somehow there was never enough evidence against him that incriminated him. 
Lando had too many loyal servants who were willing to lay down their lives in order to keep him away from being locked up in prison. But a few weeks ago, a couple days after you both broke up after a huge fight, he was arrested. 
Apparently he got into a rather violent fight at some exclusive club. Videos of it circulated around everywhere. And it was the most convicting evidence that had ever surfaced regarding him so the authorities used that to at least lock him up for a little time while they tried to dig up more stuff about him. 
However, that ended up not happening. Lando’s people kept everything clean. Every dirty work happened in the dark with no witnesses. Every skeleton was carefully placed in impregnable closets. So the authorities had no choice but to release him. 
The day of his release, you watched him on TV. How he gloated as the authorities let him go. How he enjoyed the many cameras filming him, taking pictures of him which would later surely spark many conversations in the media. He had always liked the attention. 
Even through the screen you could see it on his face. The arrogance, the smirks, the determined, proud look in his eyes like he was an unchallengeable monarch. He walked to his car, grinning like a king. He was, in many ways. A king in the darker side of life. 
Just then, your phone rang. It was an unknown number. You answered it with your heart racing, part of you already knew who was calling. 
“Hello?” You tried your hardest to sound as unbothered as possible. 
He chuckled from the other side of the call. “Hey princess, missed me?” 
You exhaled shakily, “Lando.” 
He scoffed, “You sound a little out of breath there, baby. Have you been watching me on TV?” He laughed. “You knew they could never keep me locked up for long, didn’t you princess? We talked about this, remember?” 
Oh. So he was doing the thing where he pretended that you two hadn’t had a big fight, said cruel things to each other and decided to go your separate ways. Yet again. 
“Why are you calling me?” You said, “We broke up, remember?” 
He sighed like he was annoyed, “Come on, princess. You know that wasn’t real, right?” He argued. “We were both tired and angry, and we didn’t mean it.” He didn’t even wait for you to respond as he said, “I’m coming over later, and then we’ll talk. Alright, princess? I can’t wait to see you.” 
With that he ended the call. And you were standing there in the middle of your apartment feeling confused. As always. 
When he comes over later, you thought, you’d set everything straight and break up with him for good this time. 
— 
Hours passed. 
You realised you shouldn’t just sit and wait for him. But you were anxious so you couldn’t do anything else other than wait. 
Later in the evening, three knocks at your door signalled that he was here. You stood there for a short while, fresh out of the shower and still in your fluffy robe as you stared at the door. You decided you were going to keep this short. 
He’d walk in, you’d talk, and then you’d ask him to leave. Right? Right. 
But then you opened the door. And there he was, in a fresh suit. His hair was a fluffy, curly mess. He smelt amazing. And that soft, puppy dog look in his blue-green eyes. 
“Hi princess,” He said, already walking in and shutting the door behind him, “I’ve missed you.” 
Your walls came crashing down instantly. You had your arms around him before you even realised it. Your face pushed into the crook of his neck as you shed a few tears and inhaled his familiar scent. Body wash and cologne. 
“I was so scared I would never see you again.” You found yourself mumbling against his skin as he backed you into the closest wall. 
He laughed as you pulled away to wipe your tears, “Babygirl,” He cooed, “You know that would never happen.” He cupped your teary face in his large hands and smiled at you. “Were you worried for me? Hmm?” 
You nodded. He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you. Soft lips against yours, you melted into him. Your back against the wall, your fingers tangled in his hair while he moaned shamelessly into the kiss… playfully biting your lips. 
“I’ve missed you so much, princess.” His hands wandered, undoing the knot at the front of your robe. He let out a strained groan when he finally felt your warm skin. He whispered between messy, hungry kisses, “Daddy missed you so much.” 
He pulled away to look at you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his lips were now fuller. Fuck, he was your weakness. 
“Missed this mouth,” He whispered while tracing your lips with the tip of his finger. His mere touch was driving you insane. So much so that you dropped down to your knees even before he asked you to. 
Lando looked down at you with pride in his eyes and a devilishly handsome smirk on his face. “That’s my good girl,” He said breathlessly, caressing your cheek gently as he watched you undo his zipper and pull down his briefs. 
His cock stood proud and tall in front of you. Your mouth watered shamelessly at the sight of it. Thick and big, you realised you’d missed him just as much. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his length and you placed the tip against your lips, kissing it and feeling the pre cum coating your lips. 
Lando hissed in pleasure as you pushed him into your mouth, taking in the tip and swirling your tongue around him. 
“I missed your fucking mouth, babygirl…” 
He whispered your name under his breath, his hand holding your head and guiding you up and down his cock. His taste drove you crazy. As did the sounds which left his mouth.
You intended on making him come hard and fast. 
“Fuck…,” He moaned again, right before coming undone all over your tongue. “You did so good, princess.” 
You looked up at him, still kneeling on the cold floor. You’d missed this too. 
“Stand up,” He ordered. And when you did, he leaned in to kiss you again. Rougher this time, more demanding as he pulled you away from the wall and guided you over to your living room. He grabbed your face gently by the chin and said, “Can you go make daddy a drink, princess?” 
You nodded immediately. Lando smiled, kissing you briefly on the lips before smacking you gently on the butt as you walked over to the mini bar to make him a drink. You watched him the whole time you poured his whiskey in a glass. 
You watched how he got rid of his suit jacket, unbuttoned his white shirt and plopped down on the couch. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. He looked like he was at peace. So much so that you almost hesitated before you gently touched his face to get his attention. 
Lando smiled at you as he took the glass from you first, then pulled you onto his lap. Palms gently caressing his smooth chest, you admired your man. His beard seemed coarse you realised as you stroked his cheek. You wondered whether it would feel rougher in between your thighs. 
Judging by the smirk on his face, Lando thought of the same thing as he sipped on his drink. And his hooded eyes silently promised you ‘later’. His free hand rubbed up and down your exposed thigh, until he reached in between your legs. 
He shamelessly watched how his fingers softly rubbed your throbbing clit. You whimpered softly, grinding against his hand on his lap. 
“Who took care of you while I was away?” He asked. 
You knew what he meant. Jealous, territorial, over protective man that he was. 
“No one,” You answered, whining as he slid a finger inside you.
He swallowed all of the whiskey and leaned in to kiss you again. He kissed down your neck, and all while slowly fingerfucking you he whispered along your collar bones, “If I find out someone touched you while I was gone I’m gonna do terrible,” He licked and bit your skin mid-sentence, “horrible things to them.” He left marks on your skin, marking his territory. “And I’ll make you watch.” 
You couldn’t help the unexpected giggle that escaped your lips. “No one touched me,” You assured him. “I took care of myself.” You added. 
Lando pulled away from your skin smirking like the handsome devil he was. “Yeah?” He insisted, “Show me how.” 
You gave him a shy smile. 
“Come on,” He said. “Show me how you touched yourself while I was away.” 
So you gave him a little show. Still on his lap as you touched yourself, like you did almost every night when he was gone. Even when you were angry at him, nothing else got you off like the memories of the moments you both spent under the covers.
Lando leaned back for a minute, his hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs while he carefully followed your finger as it dipped in and out of your wet hole. His eyebrows furrowed everytime you moaned or let out a wanton gasp. 
He grabbed your thighs tightly each time he had to hold back from shoving your hands away to touch you. His shameless stare urged you to keep going. Lando was almost just as breathless as you were when you brought yourself to the edge, slowing down and not wanting to come just yet. 
“Please…” You murmured, removing your hand away and looking into his dangerously pretty eyes. “Please,” You begged again
He looked up at you and smirked. He knew what you wanted. You wanted him to make you come. His smug grin widened before he taunted, “Aww what is it, princess? Your fingers don’t feel as good as daddy’s?” He cooed, “Hmm? You want daddy to make you come, don’t you?” 
You nodded quickly. Lando just smirked and shook his head. Then before you knew it, you were being pushed down onto the couch. You laid on your back while he hovered above you. You could feel the metal chain around his neck just barely brushing against your chest. 
“It’s okay, babygirl.” He whispered, his face inches above yours. “Daddy’s here now.” He said before leaning in to kiss your lips. His tongue gently stroking your lower lip, then his mouth trailed downwards, kissing your neck, your collar bones down to your breasts, licking and kissing and leaving behind his marks on your skin.
Your body felt hot. Burning under him as he took his time and kissed every inch of your skin. “Missed you,” he whispered as he pressed kisses down your chest. 
Within seconds his fingers found their way in between your legs again, carefully parting your wet folds before slipping inside you. 
He asked, “Do your fingers feel this good, princess?” Lando leaned in again, and kissed along your jaw while his fingers stroked you gently. “I bet they don’t.” 
You whined and squirmed and you wanted more. You threw your head back and whined loudly, you felt your walls clench around his fingers. 
He smirked, feeling it too. “Oh? You wanna cum, is that it?” he leaned in closer, whispering against your mouth, “You want it so bad, don’t you princess?” he teased, chuckling darkly.
You moaned, and whined and tried your hardest to keep quiet but you ended up being loud anyways. His touch, his stare, his words… “Look at you,” he whispered, kissing and biting down on your skin occasionally as his fingers took you higher. “So perfect for daddy.” 
He bit down on your neck as you squirmed, moaning shamelessly. 
“Come for me, babygirl.” 
You did. Welcoming the sweet pressure in between your legs and you came with a loud cry all over his fingers, coating them with your arousal and making him hiss and swear at the sight of you so beautifully dishevelled. 
He had missed this indeed. 
“You’re all mine,” Lando said. 
You were still recovering from your previous orgasm that you didn’t realise his mouth was on you again, the lower half of his face completely submerged in between your legs, which were on each of his shoulders as his tongue tasting you shamelessly, eagerly. 
“Fuck,” He moaned against your wetness. The sound of it making you shiver. 
His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance, occasionally flicking your sensitive clit mercilessly. Your hands immediately gripped his messy, curly hair and tugged gently at his roots. 
“You taste so good, princess.”
You whimpered under his touch, feeling his faintly rough stubble rubbing against your soft skin. It burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more. His mouth felt good. 
“Fuck… Lando,” You moaned out loud as your back arched off the couch for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you. 
“You’re gonna cum for me, is that it, hmm?” He whispered and got back to teasing your clit with his warm and wet tongue, relishing your taste.
“Please, please….” You murmured. He chuckled, his warm breath fanning your wet folds.
“Come on, ask nicely.” He whispered, biting down on your hip bone before kissing his way back to your clit.
“Please daddy,” You whined, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Please, can I come?” 
His smirk meant that he was satisfied. “Of course you can, princess.” He murmured. “Come all over daddy’s tongue.” 
Lando got back to eating you out like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. The pressure in between your legs was building up nicely. So with a few more strokes of his tongue, you let go and came all over his face. 
The waves of pleasure which washed over you were so intense that you teared up as you came, grinding your hips against his waiting mouth. And Lando lapped up whatever you gave him. He couldn’t get enough. 
When he finally pulled away to let you breath for a moment, he kissed your thighs, admiring the pretty mess that you were. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful, princess,” he whispered, looking down at you. “All mine.” He had that feral look in his eyes. Shameless, and raw. Passionate, and unrestrained. He wanted you and he wasn’t hiding it. “Get on your hands and knees.” He ordered. 
You did as he asked. You knelt on the couch, holding onto the back while he stood behind you surely admiring your ass as your back faced him. 
Lando trailed a finger lazily up your spine before sliding his fingers around your neck. He gripped your throat gently, and tightened his grip just enough so he got your full attention. His lips hovered over the side of your throat and his other hand reached around and toyed with your clit, his fingers making you tremble.
You could feel his erection pressing against your butt. And your heart raced in anticipation.
“Daddy missed this pussy, princess.” He whispered into your ear, his fingers teasing your clit until you were embarrassingly wet for him. “I know you missed daddy’s cock, didn’t you? Hmm?” 
You whined in response as his tongue licked along your neck. 
His hand gripped your throat, eliciting a loud moan out of you. “Answer me, babygirl.” He said. “Use your words and tell daddy you want his cock.” 
His fingers left your clit as he undid his trousers again, grabbed you by the hips and aligned his cock to your entrance. Pushing against it just enough to make you lose your mind but not enough. 
Damn him. He knew just what to do. How to play you to get you to do exactly what he wanted. You pushed back against him, desperately craving friction, as you whimpered, “Please daddy, I want your cock. Please…” 
He chuckled. “There’s my good girl.” He praised and gripped the sides of your hips tighter. He pushed into you with ease, earning a sinful moan out of you. 
Lando groaned as he filled you up entirely, your ass cheek pressing into his pelvic bone as he buried his cock into you. Your knuckles gripped the back of the couch tightly as you felt the familiar pressure forming again in no time, given you were already so sensitive and sore from before.
You were barely able to think straight. You’d missed him. You’d missed this way too much. Having him right now gave you a high you did not quite comprehend but you were grateful for it. 
“So fucking good… princess…” Lando spoke in a haze, and you barely heard him as the only thing you focused on was how good he felt, sliding in and out of you. His cock stretching you out each time he fit it snugly inside you. 
He felt it too. He relished the sounds your bodies made together. The careless moans he earned out of you, how wet and ready you were for him. How perfectly you clenched around his cock. Your soft, often loud, whimpers and his groans of pleasure. 
“I dreamt of this perfect, warm pussy the whole time I was locked up in there, you know that, princess?” Lando pounded into you like his life depended on it. Stretching you out and filling you up each time he rammed his cock into your entrance. 
You could feel the soreness his touch would leave behind, and you didn’t care. But fuck… his dirty mouth only made him hotter. 
“The only that kept me going was knowing that I’d come home to you and fuck you like this,” He whispered, and you felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling your orgasm so close that you almost shed tears again. 
Lando kept mumbling in the throes of pleasure, “Like you were made for me, for this cock…” He trailed off, moaning in that boyish way that only made you want to come harder. “It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it, babygirl? Hmm?” 
Right there… you were tight on the edge, ready to let go…
But just as you were, he pulled out and flipped you around. You were on your back again, looking up at him. His roughness only turning you on even more. 
He smirked when he saw that look of uncontained desire on your face. “Not so easily, princess.” He chuckled. “Daddy spent all this time away from you. So it’s only fair that now you beg for my cock.” He parted your legs, and settled in between them again, his cock slipping inside you once again. “Beg for me.”
When he saw that you didn’t, his fingers wrapped around your throat once more. “I said,” he growled, “beg.”
Your lips parted as you gasped, giving in. You’d do anything for him you realised. 
 “Daddy please… please make me cum…” you whined, “I missed you so much, I need you-,” you cut yourself off, moaning wantonly as he began fucking you hard and fast again.
He grunted and moaned shamelessly right in your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace. He pounded into you incessantly. 
You stared into his eyes, tears escaping your eyes, lips swollen and bruised, neck littered with his bite marks, and your eyes just as wild and passionate as his. His messy hair, that dangerous way of his, his reckless nature, that annoying arrogance, his pride was his fatal flaw and yet… Oh fuck you loved him. 
Lando smirked, leaning in to whisper against your mouth, “Daddy loves you more, princess.” 
Well, guess you said it out loud then. 
“You belong to me, don’t you? Hmm?”
“Yes.” You gasped. “Please, daddy can I-” 
The pleasure was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came all around his cock, moaning and squirming. Your fingers scratching his neck, your arms holding him tight like he was your lifeline. He was, in more ways than one. 
Lando moaned out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you, filling you up again. “Fuck,” He groaned, his voice a little hoarser. “Fuck, princess.” He sighed, putting his whole body weight onto you for a moment. He nuzzled your neck and left soft kisses along your skin. 
You let him rest for a moment, mindlessly playing with his hair. You almost laughed thinking about how your initial plan was to kick him out of your life, forever. But deep down you knew, you could never get rid of Lando. 
No matter how corrupted, dark, and wicked he was. No matter how possessive, jealous, and insane he could be, almost childishly so. Despite it all, he had you by your heart, and there was no getting away from him.
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hans-wh0re ¡ 4 months ago
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A.N: this is a drabble that m thinking of expanding as a fic
"Fuck, that's it baby..." Hyunjin rasped out in a low, filthy growl that made you shudder. His scorching gaze raked over your lewd display through the phone's lens - spine in a debauched arch, mouth fallen slack with blissed-out moans as you eagerly speared yourself on his thick length again and again.
The harsh smacking of skin on skin reverberated through the room in tandem with your desperate, cloying whimpers. Each time you ground your asscheeks flush against his pelvis, Hyunjin's cock would split you apart with that soul-shattering *stretch* that had stars bursting behind your screwed-shut eyelids.
"Nnghh...that slutty little cunt just can't get enough, huh?" he rasped out, voice gone rough with lust. "Taking my cock like you were made for it."
Hyunjin shifted positions then, grabbing a fistful of your sweat-damp locks to wrench your head back at a punishing angle. You gurgled out a pitchy whine past your spit-slick lips as he brought the phone up unbearably close, the lens zeroing in on your ruined, slack-jawed expression with sadistic focus.
"Look at you..." he sneered in dark gratification, studying your glazed, vacant features. "Such a desperate cum-hungry slut. Is this what you wanted? To be my personal fuck-puppet while i records just how much of a messy little whore you are?"
Despite his cruel vitriol, you could only keen out a shuddering, mewling whimper of bliss. Lost in a hedonistic vortex of sensation, you mindlessly shoved your hips back to impale yourself in one long, shuddering grind on the punishing density of his cock.
Hyunjin hissed out a harsh breath through gritted teeth at the feeling of your abused, sloppy hole fluttering and clenching around him in spasming milks. That iron-hard length somehow managed to split you open even wider as he surged in with a vicious snap of his hips. Thick ropes of your essence immediately started to dribble free in vulgar gouts, trickling down over your puffy folds to soak the bedsheets beneath you both.
"That's right you little whore..." he growled, nostrils flaring. Using his grip in your hair, Hyunjin pulled your face up and forced you to meet the camera's gaze while he treated you like a twisted little pocket pussy.
"Give the people what they want. Drool all over yourself while i utterly ruins this messy fuckhole..."
He punctuated the threat with a series of harsh, pounding jackhammer thrusts that instantly punched a shrill, gurgling wail past your swollen lips. Drool collected obscenely at the corners of your mouth as your eyes rolled back in delirious rapture - you were completely gone, nerves thrumming from the onslaught of sensation.
Everything became a spiraling vortex of feral rutting, filthy squalor, and erotic bliss. Hyunjin's physique glistened with a sweat-sheened sheen as he plowed into your squelching, convulsing cunt with relentless, animalistic fervor. The room filled with a cacophony of your pitchy howls, his rough grunts, and the lewd wet sounds of your essence being messily reamed.
The camera (and subsequently Hyunjin's burning stare) didn't miss a single degrading second - greedily capturing every graphic detail of your debauched defilement. And still you craved more, grinding back to meet his brutal thrusts with wanton keening whines.
Stars exploded across your vision as Hyunjin buried himself in one last cruel, obliterating grind that had you choking out a ragged, open-mouthed sob. He held you there impaled on the swollen, pulsating crest of his cock as rich, viscous ropes of seed immediately began pumping into your abused, fluttering hole.
"That's it, sweetheart...fucking milk me..." he snarled against the sweaty nape of your neck, voice utterly guttural with possession. "Take every fucking drop like the filthy cumdump you are..."
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gyuscoquetteribbon ¡ 8 months ago
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^᪲᪲᪲ what the world has to offer
SYNOPSIS: you were supposed to be home about thirty minutes ago. mingyu doesn't know why you aren't home yet and all his calls are left unanswered and his texts, delivered, but not read.
PAIRING: mingyu x gn!reader
GENRE: fluff, established relationship
WORD COUNT: 1.1k
notes: this is pretty self indulgent y'all also also omg first written piece that i've posted for the world to see in 4 years???? also im not very satisfied with how i ended this so my bad y'all but hopefully i get to write more in the coming weeks !!
hpr btw
'i'm close by, i'll be there in five mins !!!'
going by your last text, you should've been home about thirty minutes ago. needless to say, mingyu was beyond worried, pacing back and forth in your shared kitchen while he also he kept an eye on the boiling pasta.
'y/n.'
delivered.
'y/n why aren't you answering my calls???'
delivered, yet again.
delivered, but not read.
mingyu's anxiety, which had picked up upon the ten minute mark, only increased as all his texts were left unopened and unanswered.
the pasta had finally come to a boil. as mingyu turns the stove off, a soft tune fills the otherwise empty house.
his phone was ringing.
mingyu goes to pick his phone up, his speed only picking up when he sees your name illuminating on the phone screen. he attends your call, ready to chide you as he adjusts his phone so that you could see his (rather upset) face.
"y/n, why the fuck won't you—"
"i don't think i'm coming home tonight," you cut him off.
mingyu raises an eyebrow. he knew exactly why you were late the moment he saw you sat, leaning against a wall that looked much like the wall of the entrance to your apartment complex.
you angle your phone towards your lap, and there it was. the reason why you weren't home yet.
laying down cozily on your lap was a sleeping cat, pearly white fur with specks of dust and brown spots. if mingyu was right the stray was probably—
"i think he was abandoned," you pull him away from his thoughts, gently swiping your fingers over the cats ear that was cut at the tip, indicating it was spayed either by a rescue team or its previous owner. your free hand goes to cradle its head as it tips back.
a soft smile falls on mingyu's slightly chapped lips, his eyes gazing at his screen with so much love. he leans closer to the camera. "you don't even look at me with this much love," mingyu jokes, causing you to chuckle softly, "i'll bring him something to eat yeah?"
you nod and allow mingyu to cut the call. a shiver runs down your spine while you wait for your boyfriend to come down to join you. it was a particularly chilly evening. as you wait for mingyu, you watch the cat as its body rises and falls in a gentle rhythm. you had placed your woolen scarf over the cat earlier, when it had fallen asleep, afraid that it might be too cold for him. you sit there, wondering how confused the cat must have felt upon being thrown into the streets to fend for itself after being sheltered for so long. you felt sorry. the world is too cruel, you think to yourself.
"hi," mingyu's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you lift your head to look up at your grinning boyfriend, the scarf wrapped around his neck doesn't hide his sharp canines shining under the dim light of the lamppost.
"hi," you whisper back as mingyu squats down across you. with all the sudden commotion, the cat stirs awake, sleep eyes blinking up at the new figure before him. "he's awake," you note, eyeing the cat cautiously, praying that the presence of another person doesn't scare him.
the cat sits up immediately, the scarf draped over his body, slipping onto the ground. its eyes land on the small tin of cat food which mingyu had bought along. good thing mingyu had bought a bunch of those since you have a habit of feeding strays in your area whenever you come across one.
you loved cats. mingyu knew that much. going out on walks with you almost always meant that you'd both would have to stop somewhere in the side of a road because you came across a stray cat. sometimes, you'd stop mid conversation if you see one, rushing towards it, muttering a soft "look! cat!" mingyu doesn't mind, though.
in fact, it was this quality of yours that made him fall so deeply in love with you. despite the pain the world had given you, love was all you ever gave back. that too with a big grin on your face. when you'd run towards a stray cat mid-conversation, you'd miss the fond smile that'd fall on mingyu's lips. when he'd go shop for groceries, you'd miss the absent-minded smile that'd paint his lips when he'd inevitably walk down the aisle containing pet food. when he'd see you sat beside your potted plant, talking for hours about anything and nothing at all while a slow song plays in the background, you'd miss the way he'd look at you, with hearts in his eyes.
they can hear you. it helps them grow better, you had told him.
once again, you had missed the way he was smiling at you. "or so it seems." a puff of air briefly forms in front of mingyu's mouth as a chuckle escapes his lips. the cat jumps out of your lap and approaches the can of food cautiously, almost as if it'd disappear if he'd look away. gently, mingyu pushes it closer towards the cat, assuring that the food is, in fact, for him.
you sit on your knees, your freezing hands falling on your lap as the cat takes his first few bites, his entire face fitting into the can. when he lifts his head, his overgrown whiskers are coated with minced meat. you and mingyu coo softly as the cat looks up at the two of you with his minced meat clad fur and whiskers.
you laugh, your eyes crinkling at the sides. you sounded so beautiful. music that mingyu wishes was only reserved for his ears; for him to listen to and cherish. but alas, the world knows your name.
"you've taken quite a liking towards him," mingyu points out.
you look at your boyfriend, "i wish we could take him home." an unsaid plea.
mingyu laughs softly, reaching forward to gently pat your head, "i'm free tomorrow. i'll pick you up from work and we both can take him to get vaccinated, alright?" he smiles, mirroring your own beaming smile, "i'm sure bopeul would like a friend or two when we go visit my family when i get a break."
"and, i'm sure dollop would love bopeul too," you say.
mingyu raises a brow, "is that what we're naming him?"
"yes."
"dollop it is then," he smiles, reaching down to gently boop its snout.
you miss the way mingyu smiles at you when you aren't looking. but, you never miss the way he loves you. all the little ways he's shown his love. you've never once had to ask for something. he'd know.
maybe this was what the world had to offer for all the love you've given it.
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comfortless ¡ 8 months ago
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would König ever agree to be a sugar baby? 🤔 most people write him as the rich one in the relationship so I'm curious if the dynamic can be reversed
you’re calling to my weakness of König being taken care of for once here…!! cue König being the absolute worst sugar baby that has ever existed (lovebombing!). implied age gap (König is maybe 24-26 here, reader is anything above), porn mention, masturbation, slightly suggestive but mostly fluff. minors do not interact.
Begrudgingly, a younger KĂśnig probably would.
He isn’t sure how these relationships even work. There’s plenty of money in his bank accounts, he’s got a decent enough apartment, a car, (some) clothes that aren’t riddled with holes or tears... Hell, there isn’t even really anything that he wants. His curiosity only begins to spike the second his thumb stops its scrolling, lands on a picture of her, and his world comes to a grinding halt.
The woman in the photo is the most gorgeous, sweet creature he has ever lain eyes upon. Just the image of her smiling softly at the camera, her hands placed in her lap whilst she’s seated on a couch is enough to send his heart hammering. She doesn’t look the part of some vapid, cruel thing he had anticipated on a site like this. No, the woman only looks gentle, her eyes are even a little sad… She's all alone, her bed is cold, and König is already hard at the thought of how this could go if he had just a little luck in his corner.
He makes the decision to message her without thinking. It’s late, she probably wouldn’t even see it until morning, and he doubts a woman this cute would want to bother with him anyway.
A polite, articulate: hey do you wanna fuck
Followed by: you don’t even have to pay me XD
He settles for pulling up some porn video with the faces just out of frame, jacks off to the hypothetical of it being she and him one day and falls asleep with his phone on his chest and come stains in his boxers.
There’s nothing about him that’s deserving of this woman’s time nor her response, but he wakes to the chiming of his phone and a sweet message from her anyway. One in which she asks him if he would like to meet for drinks so that they can talk, she clarifies that she will pay, and even tells him that she thinks he’s handsome.
Handsome. Something only his oma had called him when she patted him on the cheek as a boy.
His response is insistent, demanding almost, when he suggests that she come to him, meet immediately that same day. Who cares if it’s only afternoon by the time she arrives, he could go for a beer and a sweet, tight pussy at any hour, doesn’t hold himself back from telling her this either while he grins at his phone like he’s possessed - all teeth and wild eyes.
There’s a part of him that believes this woman will be scared off, stand him up entirely and block his account, but to his surprise, she does actually show up. She’s there before even he arrives, seated in a booth at the back of the bar with his order and her own placed neatly on the table in front of her.
His chest feels too tight when he places himself across from her, all cockiness diminished in light of something he hasn’t felt since he was two feet shorter and more than a decade younger.
He’s fucking petrified.
His to-be-sugar-mommy eases him with her softspoken voice, going over the less than rigid terms of their agreement and praising his looks as well as his ability to handle his alcohol.
She isn’t asking for sex, just someone to care for. She tells him that he’s beautiful, while he feels like a smear on the pavement in comparison to her. And fuck. He isn’t handling his alcohol well at all, he’s just nervous and needs to keep his hands and his mouth busy, because all he wants to do is bend this adorable woman who compares his ugly face to that of an archangel’s over this table and fuck her like a stallion, spit such filth into her hair that no amount of repentance could ever make her feel clean again.
He can’t. He can’t when she suggests in that same cooing voice that she take him shopping for boots that are less scuffed, offers her hand to him as though it’s natural for a lady so ethereal to tether herself to a beast. Her hand is so dainty and cold, whereas he feels like a boiler on the cusp of bursting the second their fingers slot between one another.
His head is a mess of thoughts, memories of being dragged by the collar to attend services with his oma where he never prayed. Shit, maybe he should start, because surely he has someone or something to thank for this, for her.
Their first date becomes the strangest ordeal of his life as she seats him on a bench and helps him to try on boots as though he were only a boy who didn’t yet know how to tie his laces. She even kneels before him and ties them up herself before placing his foot back on the store’s floor; doesn’t even comment on the obvious hole in his sock or the awkward, longing way that he’s staring at her, only presses her chin to his knee and smiles up at him with so much affection he thinks he might actually pass out for a moment. She buys the ones he likes, three pairs of them, and doesn’t even bat an eye at the price.
That’s when he decides it’s all too much: he tells her that he can buy his own stuff, that he doesn’t need her to do it or tie his shoelaces or anything because he’s a man, after all. He should be showering her in flowers and soft dresses, paying for her nails and hair dye.
His lady only laughs and asks if he wants to come home with her, he doesn’t have to stay, just sit with her for a bit. So… he follows her home like a sulking shadow, hovering just behind her lost entirely in his head. He had barked at her like a rabid dog and she still brings him back to her place, strokes her thumb against the back of his hand, offers him little smiles of assurance when he goes completely silent.
He wants to hate it, wants to tell her something dirty and toss a stack of cash her way when she opens her door for him. Instead, he finds his head in her lap while she pets his face, running the tips of her fingers over every scar.
Her compliments are the most ridiculous, beautiful things that he’s ever heard, ranging from outright calling him her angel to telling him that he’s charming, that the scars are pretty… He loves every second spent with her like this, with each soft brush of her fingers as they pet the top of his head down to his neck, the way she hums some pleasing song to him when she massages at his shoulder.
He’s never been pampered or coddled like this before, and it feels good. The boner threatening to tear its way out of his pants isn’t something he’s proud of this time; he only wants this sweet little fairy to feel as comfortable as she’s making him.
Maybe he could do that if she let him pull up her skirt and make love to her: he could be gentle if he tried, play with her hair and her clit while he slowly spears her open until she’s pliant and panting, take it slow until she comes around his cock and her pussy calls him to utterly defile it as well as the rest of her. There wouldn’t be a part of her left untouched.
When she asks to be held instead, he swears he’s getting all of that and then some: she puts herself right in his lap, her chest to his and her legs parted just enough to straddle his hips. Her head tips forward against his shoulder as his fingers dance across her back, squeezing at her hips before smoothing back up her sides. She’s so soft… the most pleasing thing he’s ever touched, smoother than gunmetal and the flat of a blade. The way she smells is even sweeter, like spiced tea and blooming flowers.
She doesn’t even slap him when he bucks upward against her pussy, grinds the throbbing bulge in his pants against the place that she’s warmest. No, she only kisses his cheek and tells him what a wonderful day she’s having, what a gentleman he is even if he knows that part is certainly a lie.
Her breasts are soft in his hands when he finds the courage to squish them, against his cheek when she guides his head down to her. She pets his hair, tells him how she’s always wanted to hold a man like this… that she’s been waiting for someone exactly like him for longer than she even knows.
She even laughs when she asks, “You think that I’m pathetic, don’t you?”
All thoughts of just getting a good fuck out of this woman die someplace beneath his skull. Who would ever even think to call someone so lovely and kind pathetic? He couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine ever doing anything more than protecting her fragile little heart and letting her stroke at him like an overgrown kitten, not anymore.
“Nein… no…”
He swears he could almost see tears in her eyes when she shoots him a glance then. Appreciative, contented tears that he prays she won’t shed. He’s a man, he’s not going to cry, but… fuck, he might if she did right now. Everything feels so doughy and warm, cotton candy and summer rain when his grip around her tightens to pull her in even closer.
She wipes away those unshed tears as she nuzzles against his cheek, slowly rubs her nose there and leaves a trail of kisses up to his temple. His mind is devoid of anything but outright infatuation, some impromptu dedication. He would tell her right now he loved her and know wholeheartedly that he meant it, but love isn’t in the agreement.
His lady only just wants to give herself away for nothing in return, not for a dick to make her cry or his own money layering her pockets; she just wants to pretend he’s her own personal angel, bury him in all the love and gifts she’s never been able to give to anyone else.
He watches her when she falls asleep curled up in his arms, takes in the way she smiles even in dreaming when her soft breaths break up the quiet. He presses his mouth to hers until her eyelids flutter and her breath catches in her little throat. She wakes to the kiss and only reciprocates it with the same softness she’s displayed with every prior action.
Her lips part to take him in, and she doesn’t even moan when he laps into her mouth with a grunt. There’s no lust in this for her: only the most senseless adoration, all love and tenderness, the things he’s yet to properly learn.
She tastes like vanilla and honey, her tongue yields beneath his own… and finally he pulls himself away, staring into her eyes like he might find a treasure there, as if he wasn’t already convinced that every part of her wasn’t something divine and holy.
“Do you have any others?,” he asks, devoid of any trepidation.
There’s not a care in the world of how she might view him. He’s convinced, certain that whatever he’s feeling has to be mutual. There are butterflies fluttering like the gentlest tornado in the pits of his stomach, and just by the wounded look she gives him then he just knows she must feel them too.
“Only you.”
“Gut… gut.”
There’s another kiss, one that is initiated by the both of them and steals all breath from his lungs. It’s not her harboring tears this time, but him who feels the dull sting, separates from her and turns his head away to rub at his face. He knows that he’s the pathetic one now, burdened down with the thought that he’s head over heels for a woman for just treating him as if he deserves anything at all.
Damn her for the way she readily reaches for him to pull him back in, to kiss at the outer corner of his eye and tell him in such a quiet way that she knows… In just a day she’s noticed him more than anyone, given more than anyone.
When he guides her back towards his mouth with a firm hand at the nape of her neck, could he really be faulted for whispering a confession? “Ich bin in dich verliebt,” spoken nearly inaudibly before he shuts her up with his lips over hers.
There’s no need for an answer, he knows the agreement had nothing to do with love. She wouldn’t accept his money in turn, but maybe a heart would suffice. He promises he’ll send her letters each time he’s deployed between mashing his mouth against her own, swears he will come running back to her when those greedy kisses slip down to her jaw. This sweet dove only laughs and squirms in his lap, tells him she would love to see him any time before he shushes her again.
Shouldn’t sweet things like this know not to feed a stray?
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hcsiqs ¡ 6 months ago
Note
hi i loved your first fic! could u write kate x reader where reader is an upcoming singer and she’s always posting on tiktok, doing lives and stuff and reader is on a live talking to her fans and kate shows up behind her doesn’t knowing she’s on live and her fans like ???? they are together?
pls and thank u
| bad idea, right?
• pairing: kate martin x fem!reader
• summary: ↑ ↑
• warnings: none!
• i love this idea!! i hope you enjoy <33 find part 2 here
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“Hi guys!” you smiled brightly into the camera watching the hundreds of comments flood in, attempting to keep track of everything they were saying. You had your phone set up in the kitchen as you were sitting on one of the barstools, twisting around it making the stool spin. “Guys I’m so excited for tour you have no idea!” you beamed into the camera, moving your head closer to the phone.
“What’s on the set list?” you whispered to yourself reading one of the comments out loud, “I don’t know if I can say, but Bad Idea, Right is definitely on there!” you nodded your head seeing the fans' reactions in the comments as you gave away a small secret for your concert.
“Obviously I’m going to Iowa! I’m from here so it would just be cruel to not have a show here” you giggled. “Am I gonna wear a Caitlin Clark’s jersey?” you laughed reading the question, but quickly covered your mouth with your hand, “No, no,” you shook your head trying to contain your laughter.
Even though Caitlin was one of your friends you would much rather wear your girlfriend Kate’s jersey for the concert. Plus, you didn’t feel like having Caitlin make fun of you for asking to borrow one of her jerseys.
“You’re not wearing Caitlin’s jersey anywhere” a voice from behind you said, causing your head to whip around and see your girlfriend standing there. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked at her cute face. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in mine though,” Kate laughed walking over to you, ignoring the phone that was set up in front of you.
The comments then started going crazy seeing the blonde standing behind you. Many questions rose in the comments and they were speeding by so fast, you couldn’t even comprehend a single one.
Kate still had yet to notice the live feature taking over your phone as she placed a kiss on your head and cheek before walking into the kitchen. “What do you want for dinner, baby?” she questioned, looking through the fridge.
“Kate,” you giggled, feeling the rush of blood to your cheeks as you looked at the girl across the island from you.
“Hm?” her face showed a confused look across her face.
“I’m on live,” you told her and her hand immediately came up to her face and smacked her mouth. You just shook your head slightly as you looked back down at your phone to see the comments rolling in.
OMG ARE THEY DATING?
Stop not her cuffing my gf
kate we’re fighting. y/n is mine!
Are they together???
This is actually fucking crazy omg
the kate stan in me is not ok!!!
You couldn’t help but laugh at all the comments flooding in concerning the status of your guys' relationship. You two had never really talked about staying private or being public. You just wanted to date each other and if other’s found out then, who cares. But, this for sure was not the way either one of you wanted to go about it being discovered.
“Sorry,” Kate apologized for all the comments she could only assume you were getting. You just brushed it off, still holding a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.
“Ok! Do y’all wanna hear a new song that I’m working on?” you asked the camera trying to distract from the eruption of questions about the relationship and quite quickly the comments disappeared and were replaced with excited fans about hearing a potential new song.
You grabbed your phone and brought it over to the couch and set it up against the vase that held the flowers Kate had gotten you for your guys seven month anniversary. You then moved out of view and grabbed the guitar that sat off to the side before sitting down on the couch. “So, this song is called girl i’ve always been! I hope y’all like it, and if you don’t please don’t tell me. My feelings get hurt easily” you laughed before starting to strum the guitar.
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allie’s corner.
i hope this is ok and is what you wanted! i’ve never written in 2nd person perspective before so i hope it’s alright!!
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392 notes ¡ View notes
steddieas-shegoes ¡ 9 months ago
Text
On school picture day, Steve always gets the kids ready. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t want to, it’s that he kind of hates making them dress up for a photo when 99% of the time, they’re just kids.
Except Steve had to go to a training conference for guidance counselors this week and picture day is happening whether they like it or not.
Their oldest, Jules, can do everything herself now. Prefers it, actually. She’s been extremely independent since she turned 10 a few months ago and neither of them try to stop her.
But their twins are only six, and James and Connor are like tornadoes who interrupted a category five hurricane and wore their most stained clothes while doing it.
“Let’s at least brush your hair,” Eddie suggested, already mentally preparing for the arguments that would cause. “Just for the picture and then you can mess it up however you want.”
“But daddy lets us wear it crazy!” Connor lies.
“And he lets us take off our shirts!” James lied even more.
“You guys don’t even know how to lie right,” Jules said as she finished braiding her own hair.
“We don’t lie!” They said in unison.
Eddie used to think the twins talking and doing things at the same time was just coincidence, but now he knows it has to be some kind of evolutionary benefit to outsmart the parents.
“Let’s call daddy then and ask,” Eddie said, immediately being met with silence. “Oh, can we not? If he lets you do that stuff, then it shouldn’t be a problem right?”
The twins shake their heads.
“Great!” Eddie pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and pretends to dial Steve. Steve’s not gonna answer, so he just sends a quick text to let him know it’s fine and to let it ring to voicemail. He holds the phone up to his ear as it rings twice and then goes to voicemail. “Hey sweetheart. You know how it’s picture day? Mhm. Well the twins told me you usually let them just go without brushing their hair or even wearing a shirt! I thought that sounded silly. So you don’t?”
“Wait! Okay we lied a little!” Connor yelled, suddenly panicking at being caught.
“And maybe a lot!” James added, already trying to climb Eddie’s side so he could reach for the phone.
“I’ll go get them ready, love you, bye!” Eddie rushed out and hung up so he could hold James safely. “I think you think I’m a fool.”
“No dad, you just let us be crazy,” James said.
“So does your daddy. Just not on picture day. You know the rules. We do this for him, right? We get nice and handsome and we smile for the camera so we can hang the pictures on the fridge.” Eddie glanced at last year’s school photos, resisting the urge to cry at how big they’d all gotten so quickly. James was missing three teeth now, Connor seemingly lost a ton of his baby fat early, and Jules had started wearing earrings. “He likes seeing your faces on the fridge.”
“But can’t we just wear our regular clothes?” Connor begged from his other side.
Eddie looked down at what they were wearing. It wasn’t that bad. No stains, at least. And no holes. That was rare for them.
“You can wear these clothes if you let me make your hair look nice,” Eddie bargained.
“Daddy’s gonna kill you,” Jules said with her arms crossed.
“He loves me too much. Plus who else would do the dishes every night? He can’t kill me!” Eddie joked, tickling James before setting him down on the floor. “To the bathroom, my princes! Make haste!”
They ran for the bathroom quickly, nearly tripping over each other in the process.
Eddie’s phone vibrated in his hand with a text from Steve that just said ‘if they don’t brush their hair for pictures, Santa won’t come.’
Eddie texted back quickly: so cruel. as his most sexiest elf, I wouldn’t pass over their house.
Steve sent a ‘🙄’ and then a ‘😘’.
Eddie pocketed his phone and went to help the boys with their hair.
When they got the pictures back a month later, Steve shook his head, but couldn’t quite hide the fond smile.
James and Connor both forgot to give normal smiles into the camera.
But their hair looked almost perfect.
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lusmeitli ¡ 2 months ago
Text
Where light in darkness lies
Summary: How helping with a panic attack can lead to something more.
Pairings: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Panic attack, a hint of angst, fluff, a bit of fingering.
A/N: There aren’t a lot of explanations given. I have also taken a great deal of liberties to bend characters at my will.
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9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9
The kettle seemed to take forever. Wasn’t there a saying… a watched pot never boils? Apparently, it applied to kettles, too. As the appliance imitated sounds of an imminent blast off, you poked the tea bag at the bottom of the mug with the spoon from one side to another, then clockwi–
Suddenly, everything was plunged into darkness.
“Curses.”
You stretched your hand out to hold onto the kitchen counter for something… tactile. Grounding. Darkness was your foe.
The familiar fireball under your skin licked up your back and across your chest. Its heat seemed to suffocate you. Breaths came out faster, shallower, harsher. Fumbling to try and find your phone on the counter your hands knocked something over. It shattered on the floor. The mug.
Not enough air. You just couldn’t get enough air into your lungs. The only sounds you heard was the pounding beat of your heart and the ringing in your ears. The panic rose up like a monster looming in front of you, a cruel smirk on its face, before it would open its horrifying hellmouth and swallow you whole.
And then you felt hands on you, whirling you around. Soft lips firmly pressed onto yours, moving with purpose and absolutely no hesitation. Its spark set a fuse alight, burning through your body until it reached your brain, sending a shockwave through you. It took your body a long moment to snap out of your onsetting panic attack and to respond to the kiss. You nearly sobbed into the lips, at the distraction and relief they provided, your hands fisting in a shirt, warm skin and contracting muscles under your fingers.
The heat you had felt moments before was gone. In its stead grew an all consuming need. A soft moan escaped somewhere from the back of your throat. It broke the spell. You heard the person kissing you take in a shaky breath, before their lips left yours and it was over. Several moments later the lights flickered back on. You stood rooted to the spot, staring at the empty space in front of you and the broken mug on the floor.
Your fingertips ghosted over the spot where lips had touched yours and a blush crept over your cheeks. In the corner the kettle clicked, the water now boiled.
*****
“Loki?”
“Mhm.”
“Are you sure it was him? I mean how can you tell?”
You brought a hand over the receiver, trying to shield the words so only your friend could hear.
“I, um, hacked into the security camera footage from just before the power cut. He had walked into the kitchen literally a second before it happened.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then a heavy breath. “Wow. I don’t know what to say. Ain’t that something.”
“You’re right,” you huffed out, “I mean, this is me we’re talking about, right?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“But it is though, isn’t it,” you said, rubbing your tired eyes. “It’s just little old me. Even if it really was him, it probably just was some silly prank or a dare.”
*****
The Quinjet in the hangar was your favourite place to work. Even though today you were in the tail of the jet downloading the aircraft log from the Flight Data Recorder, which involved squeezing into a rather tight space. All that to plug in the USB cable and to then balance the laptop on the palm of your right hand, whilst operating it with the left. You had tried to talk to Tony about moving the access point, seeing as it was a weekly task, but Pepper had walked past and diverted his attention. Judging by the way he immediately stalked after her, he hadn’t heard a word you said.
Thirty-seven percent through the download, the power in the jet cut out and you cursed. Setting the laptop down, you fumbled for your phone, turned on the torch and made your way through the jet to inspect the fuse box you knew was located just outside the cockpit. No light came in from the hangar, which seemed odd. Maybe it was another power outage that affected the whole tower. You tripped and the phone slipped from your grasp, landing somewhere face up.
“Not again…”
The panic started to rise in you once more. You felt too hot, the air seemed stuffy and heavy. Your breath came out fast and ragged. Hands outstretched, you bumped into something hard. Something that shouldn’t be there. You gulped as hot dread shot through your veins and took a step back. With lightning speed slender fingers wrapped around your wrists, tugging you forward to bring you flush against the hard body. Instead of consuming you, the panic ebbed off. Your body knew this touch. Though firm, it meant no harm.
You felt their chest rise and fall, a lot slower than yours. Slender fingers trailed up your arm, over your shoulder and neck. His fingertips skirted over the skin of your throat, goosebumps erupted all over your body. Someone released a slow breath - presumably you.
The fingers moved into your hair and curled around the base of your head, tilting it up. And then those wonderful lips were on yours again. This time, he angled your head to deepen the kiss. The taste and feel of his tongue moving against yours robbed you of your bones and you faltered, glad that his hands held you pressed so tightly up against him. He seemed hungry, needy. His lips left yours, trailing a few kisses over your jaw, before he rested his forehead against yours, noses touching for a wonderful moment, your short breaths mixing.
And then he was gone again. Your hands fell to your side and you blinked against the bright light in the jet that hummed over your head. Yet again you were left wondering what had just happened and, more importantly, why.
*****
“It only affected the hangar this time.” You pulled a book off the shelf in the shop.
“More hacking?” your best friend asked, finger searchingly running over the spines.
Shaking your head, you thumbed through the pages. “My coworkers told me.”
“So you’re saying he did it on purpose?”
Shrugging, you put the book back. “He knows magic, that’s what I’m saying.”
“Honey, I love you, but before you go down that obsession-rabbit hole, it’s my duty as your bestie to warn you. Just please be careful. This is Loki after all. Hm, where is it?”
“Whatever is that supposed to mean?”
The pitying look in your friend’s eyes was almost too much. “Oh where to start… He’s a god, immortal and several centuries older than you,” she counted off on her fingers.
“Actually,” you mumbled, “he is mortal. Asgardians just have a longer life span of about 5,000 years.”
Your friend blinked, surprised. “Who told you that? Dr Google?”
“Thor, actually. He had to fill in a form for the Quinjet learner’s licence and we joked about his age.”
“I love you, but you’re weird. Happy rabbit hunting then.” A victory cry fell from your friend’s lips as she pulled out what she was looking for and pushed it into your hands. “You want spicy? Here you go.”
“‘Three Swedish Mountain Men’?” you read.
She wiggled her brows. “They’re hot and they like sharing…”
You rolled your eyes, but put it on the pile of books you were getting anyway.
*****
Late shifts were your favourite, because it allowed you to actually get work done, without the phone going off every other minute. The only thing you didn’t like about them was walking back to your room afterwards.
It was 3am when the lift doors slid open and your shoes softly squeaked on the dimly lit corridor. Nightlighting mode, as Tony called it. You hated it and walked faster. Rubbing your stiff neck and rolling your shoulders, you rounded the corner. Just a few more metres to your door. But someone grabbed your hand and pulled you into the refuse room, which was pitch black.
Cool fingers were placed on your lips signalling you not to make a sound.
You nodded your head and the fingers moved from your lips, slowly, tracing. Then both hands were in your hair. His fingers cupped your head and you felt his breath against your lips. Your hands were on his chest, gripping the front of his t-shirt. Soft cotton. You closed your eyes.
“Please,” you said so quietly you thought he didn’t hear.
But he had and his lips brushed against yours, light as a feather. Your head was swimming, your heart aching. His touch was soft and gentle. He had kissed you before, but it was as if he was now seeing you, in the darkness of the refuse room, for the first time. Taking you in, kissing every inch of skin that was exposed. His lips grazed the knuckles on your hand and a lump formed in your throat.
His hands cupped your head and you felt his fingers fiddle with your hair bobble, before the restraint was gone and your hair hung loose. His hands combed through the strands. You couldn’t remember the last time someone did that.
Your hands ran over his biceps, his shoulders, his pecs, his abs. You wished you could say something, anything, but you feared you’d spoil the moment, that he’d pull away. His lips found yours again and he angled his head, his tongue slowly dancing with yours. It was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced.
He changed his footing to come at you from a different angle, pressing his body flush against yours. He peppered small kisses on the corner of your mouth and down your throat. He seemed to have found a spot he liked, because he sucked on it, his teeth grazing, lips easing the light bite. Before he pulled away, he inhaled deeply at the crown of your head, and placed a gentle kiss on your hair. You felt safe, basking in his warmth. And like the times before, he was gone.
By the time your legs felt stable enough to support you again, you opened the door and walked back to your room.
A smile crossed your lips as you realised that this was the first time you hadn’t panicked in the dark.
*****
“Maybe he’s shy?” your bestie suggested as you sat on her couch, both spooning ice cream out of the same tub.
Loki and shy were not words you would have put in a sentence together. But then, sometimes you were wondering if his aloof stance was just for show.
“Have you tried talking to him?” she asked.
You shook your head. “I could never work up the nerve. He seems… so unapproachable in the light of day. Maybe it all really is an elaborate prank.”
“Or,” your friend leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “or he has the hots for you and just can’t find any other way to show it.”
You mulled this over for a while. “But why in the dark? Why isn’t he saying anything ever?”
“When do you see him?”
“At extended team briefings, but the Avengers come in last and sit at the front. Rogers requested it.”
Your friend rolled her eyes. “Any other time?”
“Well, in the hallways, but either he’s with someone or I am.”
“Meh. Where else?”
You leaned back, thinking. “In the canteen?”
“Okay, now we’re talking.”
“But, again, he’s always with someone.”
“Well… looks like you’re screwed.” She made a show of licking her spoon. “Or about to be screwed.”
She laughed as you threw a pillow in her face.
*****
It was just an autumn storm. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except for that it was five in the morning and had been going all night. You were standing by the window, looking out onto the soft glow of the city that never slept. Angry gusts of wind whipped big raindrops against the windowpane. Your breath misted against the cool glass. Normally, you slept through storms, but not this one.
The team had yet to return from a mission and you were worried sick. The mission was particularly perilous. You knew this because Tony had called you into his office, shut the door (something he never had done before) and told you that he couldn’t give you any information, but that ‘some serious shit is going to go down tonight’ and to trust - dramatic pause - him. It all was accompanied by a stare with which Tony seemed to try to convey a secret message. You guessed he didn’t mean himself, but Loki. Hence, you had chewed off all your nails for the last few hours.
When the door to your room opened, closed and footsteps approached, relief flooded through you. Not a moment later his hands were on your waist, pulling you back into his chest, his presence seeping through your pores. His arms curled around you, the slightly damp leather of his suit softly creaking, and your hands flew up to grip his forearms tightly. His head nestled in the crook of your neck, his lips soft against your skin.
“Thank heavens,” you whispered.
You couldn’t remember who moved first, but you found yourself up against the wall, his hands on your ass. Your legs wrapped around his hips that pushed into you; his mouth felt hot on yours. The kiss was all teeth and tongues. Desperation mixed with relief. A moan rang through the room - definitely yours - as you offered yourself up to him. And he took, greedily. His hands were everywhere on your body, pulling you close, pushing more into you, closer still. A disgruntled huff made it clear it wasn’t enough. And then his hands were under your hoodie, bare skin touching bare skin. A tug, a pull and the fabric was up and over your head, landing somewhere on the floor. His lips closed around your lace covered breast until he found your nipple and sucked on it.
Your hands weaved through his damp hair - if you had any fingernails left, they’d be scraping his scalp. Instead you tugged gently on the soft strands, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His hips rolled into yours, his desire evident and yours dampening your knickers. His hand slipped into your leggins, his fingers moving over the globe of your ass, slowly, squeezing, as his mouth was plundering yours.
The moment his fingers found your soaking centre, you both groaned. He slid two digits inside you, making you gasp. His hips rocked into you, the leather seams on his crotch providing friction for your clit. Your hands tried to fist in the leather, to get to feel his skin.
The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, taking you by surprise, propelling you into oblivion. Loki grunted, his movements became jerky, before he stilled and rested his damp forehead against the crook of your neck. His hot breath puffed against your skin, and he just stayed like that, letting you run your fingers through his hair in a comforting rhythm. Then he slid his fingers out of you and gently placed your feet back on the ground. His forearm leaned against the wall behind you as he kissed you thoroughly, with a gentleness that made your eyes sting with unshed tears.
Your thoughts were going a mile a minute and you were thinking of what to do or say now. Would he stay the night or would he vanish again, like always? You heard the soft creaking of his boots as he moved through the dark room and then back to you, handing you your hoodie. You took it, fingers brushing his. The moment you pulled it over your head, your bedside light was on and you found yourself alone.
Again.
*****
The APU of the Quinjet was situated - as in most aeroplanes - in the tail. One of the reasons you were in charge of the upgrade of the jet’s internal bleed ducting was that you were small and slim. None of your co-workers could squeeze in there (thank you, Tony, for prioritising sleekness over practicality). Ironically, there was no air conditioning in this part of the jet. Droplets of sweat gathered on your forehead as you lay under the engine with your torch and toolkit, religiously running through the protocols.
“Five more checks, Y/N,” you heard your colleague, peering down at you from the moveable steps he was standing on, holding up the upper engine encasing with another work mate. A whistling noise became louder. “Then we can test– what the hell?!”
You lifted your head just as a massive explosion tore through the hangar. The space where your co-workers had been a second ago was swallowed up by a fireball. It felt as if the jet was airborne, tossed to the side, then came to a sudden stop. Metal screeched and groaned.
Your head hurt. A lot. There was a ringing in your ears and you just couldn’t see anything. It was dark, so dark. You wriggled backwards but to your horror realised that you were stuck, trapped between the engine and the jet wall. It felt like you were burning up and you tried to shout, scream for help, but you couldn’t get air in your lungs, no matter how hard you tried. Then, mercifully, you fainted.
When you came to, you were in the medical bay. It looked like a war zone, people lying or sitting on the floor, waiting to be seen. Some of them with burns and cuts, others in the bays next to you with drips and field surgeons around them. You spotted your two work mates, both with minor burns and a few bruises, but thankfully alive.
A few stitches on your forehead, one arm plaster casted and in a sling, and a packet of painkillers thrust in your good hand by a disgruntled, stressed out medic later, you limped your way out of there. Anything was better than sitting around in the sick bay, where there were people who were much more in need of a bed than you were. It also helped with getting away from the sight of the body bags that were quietly carried past you. Six, you had counted. The biggest attack on the Avengers Tower so far, people murmured. And the deadliest one.
In front of the debriefing room, you were handed a tablet and sat down. It was standard protocol after an incident like this: you filled in your report and then talked it through with your supervisor. End of. So you filled in the boxes and waited outside Tony’s office for your turn. As you walked in and sat down, he looked at you.
“You okay, Y/N?”
You gave a brief nod. He blinked and then tapped a few keys on his phone, before taking the tablet you held out to him.
“Let’s get this over with.”
In the middle of your interview, the door suddenly burst open. A very out of breath Asgardian god almost stumbled over the threshold, a stony expression on his face. He was like a vision from your dreams, donning his leather suit, covered in dust and blood - not his.
His eyes roamed over you as he stood in the doorway, lingering on your arm in the sling and the stitches on your face for a moment. Then his eyes met yours. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t looked into one another’s eyes before, but this felt different. Intimate.
In four strides he was next to your chair. He stretched out his hand and you placed yours in his, as if it was a practised gesture between you two. A gentle tug had you standing up.
“Loki…,” you started.
“I thought you were dead, love,” he murmured, voice rough, lifting your good hand to his lips to ghost a kiss onto your scratched knuckles. Your insides melted at the endearment and his gesture.
“I give you a thousand thanks, Stark,” he addressed the other man, eyes never leaving yours, “for alerting me that my beloved is okay and with you. However, Agent Y/L/N will have to finish the incident debrief at a later point. I require her presence for an extremely urgent personal matter.”
“Get outta here already, Shakespeare,” Tony grumbled, trying to hide a smirk. “Who’s next?”
But Loki didn’t pay him any heed. He gently cradled your face, his thumbs caressing your skin.
And there, right in front of Tony, with the door wide open for everyone in the very busy hallway to see, right there was the very first time that Loki kissed you in the daylight.
~fin~
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esggs ¡ 28 days ago
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tired manager!Nanami x kpop idol!reader
He’s sick, absolutely sick of you. In all his underpaid overworked years as an idol manager, he’s never seen one as impossible as you. 
You’re the centre, lead singer, and the most popular member of your girl group ‘R0ck-Chic’. The princess of K-Pop. Ranked Top10 on Billboard and Melon, brand ambassador for Chanel. Photocards for $1500 retail. Face straight out of a manhwa, bubblegum-sweetheart personality, born a musical genius too!
But that’s just on camera.  
“Prissy bitch.”
Nanami keeps his thoughts to himself. He’s doubling as a bodyguard-cum-manager for your M-Net Music Show, watching you yell at your hairstylist backstage. She accidentally burned a piece of your hair extensions off, but hey, it was a fucking accident! The poor lady is nearly in tears at your cruel words. No one really likes working with you, not your staff, not the other members of your group, because underneath the Estée Lauder Double Wear foundation is a secret none of your massive fanbase knows: You’re a cunt. 
“Nanami-san!” At least you’re still calling him with honorifics, even though he’s cringing thinking about what harsh command your majesty shall bark at him. “God, Nanami-san, where the fuck are you? When’s our show going to begin? Can’t get on stage in time, can’t get my makeup done on time-” You cast an evil look at the makeup-artist, who promptly bursts into tears too. “- I’m surrounded by useless trashcans!”
Miwa, the leader of R0ck-Chic, hesitantly tries to calm you down. “Ah, yn, it’s ok, they’re setting up the stage right now so–”
“– I believe it’s prudent to look at the other groups’ rehearsals and analyse the competition, miss.” Nanami steps in. He really hates his job, having to babysit the most spoilt celeb on the planet. When he speaks, he means it to everyone around you. “Let’s all use this time to the fullest, yes?” 
(Later on he’d go and apologise to the people you brought to tears. Not that he’s under any obligation to do so, he’s simply a gentleman like that. And maybe he cares about your reputation.)
You grumble, taking the ice-chips that Nanami offers you. It’s hard to be angry with diet-abiding ice-chips in your mouth. “Don’t need to ‘analyse’ any stupid competition. R0ck-Chic has me, and I’m the best.” 
The fucking audacity, Nanami cringes. And she’s not even wrong. That’s the worst part. 
You kill it on stage that night. Broadcasted live, the TV ratings spike immediately when you come on screen, bootleg solo fancams flooding Twitter and your ending fairy goes viral. The photocard prices jump up to $2000. 
There’ll be stalkers tonight following the car. I’ll have to drive through the offside path. Nanami took all the security measures that any manager worth their salt would.
Only he didn’t account for how crazy your stalkers would get tonight in particular. Even the offside has large unmarked SUVs, waiting to trail your car to a standstill. Sasaengs.
You’re in your sweatpants, performance makeup off, texting away inside the car that Nanami is driving right now, clearly no idea of how much danger you’re in. A fan would simply take your autograph and leave happily. Sasaengs, especially ones of this calibre, would stab you. At least she’s not screaming. Yet. 
He’s very correct. Because the moment that he tells you that you’ll have to stay in the dance studio tonight (can’t risk leaking the group dorm location to the stalkers), screaming is exactly what you do. 
“You promised I’d go home!” You stamp your feet on the ground, chuck your phone at him, throwing a proper fit. “I’m sick of you stupid fuckers ruining everything! Everyone is dogshit here!” The regular migraine that comes after dinner-time drives nails into Nanani’s temple. “Nanami-san, you dumb fucking gasbag! I’m tired! I-WANT-TO-GO-HOME!”
“SO-DO-I!”
Both you and Nanami are shocked silent. No one has ever talked back to you since you became famous, and you became famous at the age of 5. It’s weird. It’s interesting. 
Poor Nanami-san now has to deal with all the drama you cause as well as this new problem: you might be growing a teeny weeny crush on him.  
Bonus: you have to buy a new phone. stop throwing phones. 
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masterlist
a/n: I have insomnia and a bad cold. no one has suffered like me.
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logansargeantsbabymom ¡ 4 months ago
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We Did It
Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader
Hurt/Comfort
Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!
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F1 Masterlist
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The paddock buzzed with the usual pre-race energy, fans and media crowding around their favorite drivers. Walking hand-in-hand with Lewis Hamilton, my boyfriend and a Formula 1 legend, I tried to focus on the excitement of the day. Though I was used to the limelight as a (your/age) pop star, the world of F1 was a different beast, and the media frenzy always made me a little anxious.
It had been a whirlwind few months. My Eras Tour had taken me around the globe, performing in sold-out arenas and stadiums. For four months, I had barely seen Lewis, our time together limited to hurried phone calls and stolen moments. The exhaustion from relentless travel and performances weighed heavily on me, but I had managed to carve out two weeks off, just in time for the Silverstone Grand Prix. It was a precious window of time, a chance to reconnect with Lewis and support him at one of the most important races of the season.
We navigated through the crowd, stopping occasionally for photos and autographs. Eventually, we reached the media pen. Lewis was always calm and composed in these moments, but I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as we approached a familiar interviewer known for her biting questions.
"Y/N, can I ask you a few questions?" she began, her tone laced with a sugary sweetness that felt anything but genuine.
"Of course," I replied, forcing a smile.
"First, I want to congratulate you on your tour, The Eras Tour! It’s been impossible to get tickets to!" she exclaimed, her smile not reaching her eyes.
"Thank you," I said, feeling a bit of pride seep through my anxiety. "It's been an incredible journey."
She nodded, then shifted her weight slightly, her eyes gleaming with a different kind of interest. "So, why are you guys dating? You’ve had quite the dating reputation, and you’re only (your/age). Having gone through six boyfriends, it’s probably why we all think Lewis was better off with Nicole, but oh well."
Her words hung in the air, a cruel barb meant to wound. My heart plummeted, and I felt my face flush with a mix of embarrassment and hurt. The cameras were rolling, capturing my every reaction, and I struggled to maintain my composure. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them back, trying to stay strong.
Before I could respond, Lewis’s voice cut through the tension. "That's an incredibly disrespectful question," he said, his tone icy. "Y/N is an amazing person and a phenomenal talent. She doesn't deserve to be compared to anyone, especially not in such a hurtful way."
The interviewer looked taken aback, and I noticed other drivers stepping in, voicing their support for me and their disapproval of the interviewer's conduct. Despite the solidarity, I couldn't shake the humiliation.
Later that evening, back at the hotel, I sat on the edge of the bed, replaying the moment over and over in my mind. My confidence, usually unshakeable, felt shattered. The tour had been a grueling endeavor, and this time off was supposed to be a break, a chance to feel normal and loved.
Lewis sat beside me, taking my hand in his. "Y/N, you mean the world to me. That interviewer was out of line, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. I only have eyes for you, and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me."
Tears welled up in my eyes. "But what if people agree with her? What if they think I'm not good enough for you?"
Lewis cupped my face gently, his gaze unwavering. "You are more than enough. You're incredible, and anyone who can't see that doesn't matter. I love you, and I want you there with me on Sunday, but only if you feel ready."
Looking into his eyes, I saw the sincerity and love reflected back at me. Slowly, I nodded. "I'll be there."
Race day dawned bright and clear. The stands at Silverstone were filled with roaring fans, the air electric with anticipation. I arrived at the paddock, still feeling a bit nervous but buoyed by Lewis's unwavering support.
As the race began, I watched from the Mercedes garage, my heart racing with every lap. Lewis drove with his usual skill and determination, and as the laps dwindled, he surged ahead, crossing the finish line in first place.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Lewis took the checkered flag. I felt a swell of pride and love, tears streaming down my face. When Lewis climbed out of his car, he immediately sought me out, pulling me into a tight embrace.
"You did it," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion.
"We did it," he corrected, kissing my forehead. "Thank you for being here. It means everything to me."
———————
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