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sitkowski · 6 months ago

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it's madness by design (justin morrow x ofc x ryan sitkowski for circle-with-me)

prompt request for the beloved @circle-with-me who chose violence with this one. comes from the threesome smut prompts, #1 "i see how you look at my girlfriend" and #6 "you think you could handle us at the same time?"

cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ threesomes, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of safewords, rough sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), orgasm delay, anal fingering (f receiving), unprotected double penetration, overstimulation, choking, spitting, aftercare.

title comes from "tailspin" by cipher sight. divider by @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.8k

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Beck arrives on a Thursday, one week before the tour is due to end, to finish out the shows with them. Justin might be a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but it doesn’t take him that long to catch on to what he sees around him. He wonders if anyone else notices, how Ryan’s eyes drift over Beck, the change in body language when they’re in the room together. Justin doesn’t think anything is going on between them, but the tension is noticeable and for some reason it doesn’t bother him. It makes him curious. Ryan’s always been objectively pretty to him, and he’d be lying to himself if he says he hasn’t thought about the idea once or twice. Ryan, Beck, the three of them.

Justin knows that he could just outright ask, but it could also just be in his head. So he decides to test a theory, while they’ve got a travel day to the next city. Everyone’s doing their own thing, the length of the tour just about wearing them all thin. When he asks Ryan if he wants to watch a movie in the back lounge with him and Beck, he sees that split second of hesitation before he agrees. If Beck senses that Justin might have ulterior motives, she doesn’t say anything about it.

She does sit next to Justin and then pat the cushion beside her for Ryan, who lingers in the doorway. “You can sit down, Ry. I don’t bite.”

“Unless you ask her to.” Justin says, almost automatically and only half joking.

Beck rolls her eyes and digs her elbow into his chest as Ryan comes and sits with them, leaving a healthy amount of space between them. Which is both adorable and unneeded, given how much this band tends to cuddle with each other on a regular basis. He looks almost panicked when Beck reaches around him to grab a blanket, tossing it over the three of them.

He lets Ryan pick the movie, and waits until everyone settles before he drapes his arm around Beck’s shoulders. His fingertips trace beneath the collar of her shirt, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ryan looking. Justin’s hand doesn’t move, as tempting as it is to see how far he could take this before one of them did something. Beside him, Beck turns a little, leaning into his chest while stretching one of her legs out across Ryan’s knee. Justin just barely contains the amused noise at the look on his face, as if he’s never seen a leg before in his life.

Eventually, Beck gets up to go to the bathroom. Ryan takes a grateful pull from his vape and Justin chooses that moment to say something.

“I see the way you look at my girlfriend.”

Predictably, Ryan chokes on the exhale. Justin doesn’t laugh, as much as he wants to. He knows it was a dick move. But, he’s kind of a dick. He reaches over and whacks Ryan on the back until he can breathe normally again.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Ryan mutters. “And of course I’m looking at your girlfriend, you’ve seen her, right?”

He’s sure that Beck would like the compliment, but he’s only got a few more minutes before she gets back. “So, you wanna do something about that?”

“Oh my god, you are the fucking worst. You are not sitting here trying to set me up with your girlfriend right now.”

“No, I’m trying to invite you along to a threesome, dumbass.”

Ryan just stares at him, takes another hit off his vape, eyes narrowing. He’s obviously waiting for Justin to laugh or get up and leave, for him to do anything but to continue to stare at him impassively.

“I’m not blind, Ry. Also not deaf, by the way because I hear you in your bunk below mine when she’s in there with me. So, I’m extending the offer, if you want it. We have a hotel night tomorrow night.”

Before Ryan can answer him, the door is sliding open and Beck’s coming back in. She looks back and forth between the two of them, picking up on the fact that she’s missed something. “Everything okay?”

“Yep, c’mere.” Justin tugs on her wrist, pulling her down onto her lap and blowing a raspberry on her neck. Maybe it’s a little for Ryan’s benefit, especially when she tosses her head back and laughs, batting his hands away when they wander beneath the hem of her shirt. “We were just making plans for tomorrow night.”

“Oh yeah? What’s on the menu?”

“You, hopefully.”

“Fuck,” Ryan chokes again and this time Justin does laugh at him. “You dick.”

Beck doesn’t say anything at first, but she also doesn’t storm out of the room. He can tell she’s thinking about it. All she has to do is say no and they’ll pick out another movie, forget about the whole thing. Justin will let Ryan continue to jerk off in his bunk alone thinking about the two of them above him at night.

“You’re rooming with Rick tomorrow, right?” is what she says to Ryan, who just stares back at her and nods. Beck holds out her hand, wiggling her fingers so he’ll pass her his vape pen. He hands it to her, and she takes a hit, wrinkling her nose at whatever flavor it must be. “Okay, so just come over.”

Justin isn’t really surprised by her answer, but Ryan seems to be, judging by the look on his face. “Just like that? You’re okay with—”

“Why do you act like this is the first time we’ve done this with someone? God Ry, what is in this thing?” she asks, passing the pen back to him.

“Blueberry lemon…wait you guys have had a threesome before?”

Rolling her eyes, Beck slides out of Justin’s lap and moves over to Ryan. She leans in and kisses him and yeah, that’s exactly the visual that Justin thought it would be. It takes Ryan a few seconds to react, but then he’s kissing her back. His hand slides up the back of her neck, fisting in her hair and giving it a little pull.

“Hey Ryan, can I have your last pack of Pop Tarts?” Vinny yells from the hall.

From where Justin’s sitting watching, he can see when Ryan pulls back, dragging his thumb across Beck’s bottom lip before he goes to deal with whatever snacks Vinny’s trying to steal. He stops in the doorway, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Tomorrow night then.”

Beck heads back to the hotel while the band is wrapping up at the venue. She showers, and just puts on one of Justin’s old Bills shirts instead of trying to make any kind of impression. It’s just Ryan, one of their best friends, who Justin intends to share her with. He didn’t have to convince her, not at this point in their relationship when nothing surprises her anymore and she knows that doing this with Ryan will be fun.

She skips her night time routine because she has a feeling she’s going to need another shower before the night is over. Before she knows it, the door is emitting the electronic beep for the key card being used, and Justin’s coming into the room, Ryan not far behind. They both obviously showered at the venue, but she can still see remnants of paint hiding parts of Justin’s tattoos on his arms, and bits of it along the sides of Ryan’s neck. Justin’s the one who throws himself down on the bed, leaning up to give her a kiss while Ryan leans against the table in the corner of the room, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t know how this works, exactly,” he admits. “I’ve hooked up with two girls before, but never a girl and another guy. Someone’s gotta have a plan.”

Beck looks at Justin, “This was your bright idea, and while I’m all for it, he’s right. What’s the plan?”

Justin looks from her, to Ryan, and back again. “You think you can handle us at the same time?”

The visual the suggestion provokes leaves her mouth dry, and she can only nod.

“Do you guys have any rules I should know about?” Ryan asks.

It’s a fair question, at least. And Beck doesn’t think anyone they’ve invited into their bed before has been considerate enough to ask.

“You can’t spread this shit around the tour.” Beck says, even though she doubts he will. But when they both wince, she rolls her eyes. “Christ, do I even want to know?”

“Vin overheard us on the bus and he told Chris.” Justin says.

“Chris asked if he could come watch.” Ryan adds.

She can’t even be surprised by that, and gives in to the fact that everyone and the crew will probably know about this by morning. It’s not as if she’s ashamed of it or anything. Justin doesn’t let her dwell on the thought long enough.

“You got the medical clearance before the tour just like I did, so we can forgo condoms, but you can’t come inside of her.”

He says it so casually that Beck just stares at him for a minute, before she nods. Ryan nods too, agreeing.

“You guys got a safeword?”

Her eyebrows raise, and Justin smirks. “What do you think we get up to that requires a safeword?”

“I know you’re just fucking with me. I know you're into some freaky shit, your boyfriend’s got a big mouth.”

“Yeah but not on tour, it’s too complicated to try and plan shit out like that. We keep it pretty vanilla when she comes out on the road.”

“Are we gonna need a safeword?” Beck asks finally. “If so, I mean, the traffic system is always a solid choice.”

“Less for an actual something, more for in case things get overwhelming.” Ryan says and it’s explanation enough for both Justin and Beck.

Ryan crooks a finger at her. He doesn’t move away from the table, he expects her to get up and come to him. After a few seconds, she finally moves, getting up and walking over. It had taken her a while to get used to the height difference between her and Justin, so it’s almost a surprise when she’s standing in front of Ryan and actually staring at his face, not his chest. The kiss on the bus was nothing compared to when he kisses her now, tentative for a few seconds before growing into something heated and punishing that she has to try to keep up with. She doesn’t know when the switch was flipped, but she likes it. It doesn’t take her long to catch up; he pushes and she pulls, his tongue slides along hers and she meets it with her own. When his teeth bite into her lip, her back arches, a shiver crawling up her spine.

She feels Justin’s presence behind her and he presses himself into her back, effectively pinning her between himself and Ryan. He reaches down, catching the hem of the shirt she’s wearing and pulling it up over her head, leaving her bare. The cooler air in the room makes goosebumps break out all over her already overheated skin. One of Ryan’s hands wraps around her throat, just enough for her to feel the sensation of his rings pressing into her skin, and her eyes flutter closed.

“I might have told him a few things,” Justin confesses in her ear. “Why don’t you help him feel more comfortable?”

He steps back enough to give her room, and Beck sinks down to her knees. When she looks up at Ryan, he doesn’t look as unsure as he did in the back lounge the other night, not until she hooks her fingers in the waistband of his shorts and pulls them down.

“I know I’m not as big as—”

“Finish that thought,” Beck cuts off whatever self-deprecating comment he was going to make, wrapping her fingers around him. “I dare you.”

She leans in to drag her tongue up the underside of his cock, teasing over the head before pulling him halfway into her mouth. Above her, Justin leans against Ryan’s side so that they’re both watching her. Her head bobs a few times, and she lets her teeth scrape him, just a little.

“Is she always like this?” Ryan asks, voice hitching.

“Sometimes she’s mean.” Justin laughs.

Beck pulls off and bites Ryan’s thigh as if to prove a point. Before she can do anything else, Justin’s hand slides into her hair at the nape of her neck, preventing her from taking Ryan back into her mouth. She doesn’t need to tell Ryan that Justin can be a little mean too. She watches avidly as Justin leans in and whispers something in Ryan’s ear, trying not to squirm and ignoring the way that the hotel room carpet is digging into her knees. The look on Ryan’s face turns sly, and then they’re both looking at her.

“Oh yeah?” Ryan says to whatever Justin’s told him. Justin pulls a little and Beck gets up. Ryan grabs onto her jaw, and she can’t even feel embarrassed about the rush of wetness between her thighs. “Open up.”

She wasn’t sure if she was going to murder Justin for this idea or buy him a puppy, but her mouth falls open at the request. Ryan leans in, and he doesn’t kiss her, he spits in her mouth. Before she can even close her mouth, Justin is there, his tongue sliding along hers and she moans helplessly, grabbing onto both of their shirts.

“Both of you need to be wearing less, right now.”

Pulling out of their grasp, Beck moves back and sits on the bed, moving until she’s up against the headboard, waiting patiently. It doesn’t take them long to get out of their clothes. Ryan’s still got his fang necklace on and Justin hooks his finger beneath it, in between the teeth, pulling him in close. Beck’s seen him kiss Ryan’s muzzle on stage, a goofy little thing for the fans, but it’s something else entirely to watch them kiss for real now; the way they push and pull at each other. She’s pretty sure Justin gives in first, letting Ryan fist a hand in his hair and keep him in place while he licks into his mouth. Justin mumbles something to him that Beck doesn’t hear, and then they’re separating.

Ryan climbs onto the bed with her, while Justin turns towards where their bags are piled. Beck thinks that Ryan is going to come kiss her again, but he grabs her ankle and yanks, dragging her down the bed. The sudden move draws a surprised squeak from her, and she’s dimly aware of Justin’s laugh as Ryan’s shouldering himself between her thighs. She’s got no choice but to let him pull her legs over his shoulders, and she drags one of her feet up his back as he drags his mouth along her inner thigh. Beck gasps and squirms when he nuzzles against her skin, sinking his teeth into the exact same spot she did him. She starts to grab onto him, but then Justin is there, distracting her with his mouth.

He sucks marks into her shoulder, the curve of her breast. He digs his fingers into the swell of her hips, slides them down, spreads her open for Ryan’s tongue. Beck tries for a second time to touch him, but Justin gathers both of her wrists in one hand, holding them over her head effortlessly. She tries to use her legs to get Ryan closer, rocking her hips up, but he wraps both of his arms tightly around her thighs, pinning her down to the bed.

“Always so fucking bossy,” she mutters and Justin just smirks at her, keeping his eyes on her face.

He doesn’t do anything else. He just watches her, sees the way she reacts, how she’s fighting to keep her eyes from rolling back when Ryan finally slides two fingers inside of her, moving them fast enough that she can hear his bracelets rattling, feel the edges of his rings and the rough calluses on his fingers. Beck likes that he’s not trying to be gentle with her, he’s not afraid to use a little teeth. When Justin’s fingers edge in alongside Ryan’s, Beck sobs, tossing her head back into the pillows. She’s already so close, she can feel it. But apparently they’ve been having a secret conversation without her, because they both stop. She looks down in shock, sees Ryan pulling Justin’s fingers into his mouth, licking them clean.

“If I’m so bossy, you can wait a little while longer,” Justin murmurs against her temple. He passes Ryan the bottle of lube he’d brought to the bed with him. “Here. Be fucking nice.”

Beck wants to laugh at his audacity, but instead she just turns her head more so she can kiss him. She looks for a distraction, and Justin senses that. He lets go of her wrists, curling one of those big hands of his around her hip, pulling until she’s on her side pressed up against him. Ryan moves in behind her, easing her thigh up over Justin’s leg.

She jolts a little at the first feel of Ryan pressing two fingers into her ass, nudging them apart and twisting them slowly. He presses a kiss to her shoulder, gives her a minute to adjust to the feel. Justin reaches down between them, guiding his cock inside of her and she tears her mouth away from his, trying to remember how to breathe because she can feel them both inside of her. A high pitched whine crawls from her throat when she realizes that Justin isn’t going to move, he just sinks as far into her as he can and stays there, waiting while Ryan stretches her open.

“I’m ready, I promise, Ry, c’mon,” she pleads quietly. Justin kisses her again, soft and teasing and she moves restlessly, clenching down on his cock, trying to get someone to do something. “Please…”

“You sure?” Ryan asks, twisting his fingers a little more.

This time it’s Justin who curses, “If she’s not sure, I am. You’re practically giving me a handjob from inside of her. Let’s go already.”

Beck laughs, she can’t help it. But it doesn’t last long, when she feels the pressure of Ryan pushing inside her, the overwhelming fullness that robs her of the ability to think, much less speak. He doesn’t stop moving, not until he’s fully in. If she thought that what she felt before was something, it is beyond anything she’s ever had before. Dimly, she’s aware of Justin’s hand on her face, tipping her head back by her chin. Something must show in her eyes, because he frowns a little.

“Hey, what’s your color?�� he asks.

“Green as your fucking hair,” she giggles, a little delirious about how she’s feeling right now. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just a lot. “Someone needs to move right now.”

Ryan is the one who takes Beck at her word, pulling almost all the way back out and thrusting back in. Both she and Justin moan at the feeling, and the next time, Justin follows and rocks into her when Ryan pulls back. It doesn’t take them long to find the right rhythm, or to stop being careful with her. Ryan’s hand comes back up to grasp the underside of her jaw and Justin’s big enough to be able to duck down and get his mouth around one of her nipples easily. She can’t move between them, can’t do anything but take what they’re giving her. And she loves it.

“You gonna come for us?” Ryan asks in her ear. He’s not choking her exactly, she can still pull in air. But then his fingers tighten, just a little. “C’mon Beck, you were so close earlier, it can’t be that far off.”

She doesn’t have a chance to give him a verbal answer, Justin’s mouth sliding over hers again. She reaches back, digging her nails into Ryan’s thigh, trying to get him closer even though it’s impossible. Her other hand fists in Justin’s hair, keeping him where he is. They move her back and forth between them, and she feels Justin’s hand slapping down over hers, simultaneously tangling his fingers with hers and grabbing onto Ryan for more leverage.

Beck can’t articulate it when she finally comes, too caught up in the overwhelming sensations. She’s aware of Justin saying something to Ryan that sounds suspiciously like “get out of her” and then Ryan’s pulling out and she feels him spilling against her ass. He moves out of the way, just barely, as Justin rolls Beck over onto her back without even pulling out of her, hips snapping into hers hard enough to move her up the bed a few inches. She shoves her hands above her against the headboard, feeling the tension in her arms.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Ryan moving off the bed. He sits in one of the chairs, grabs his vape and takes a hit, watching the two of them. Justin grabs onto Beck’s jaw, pulling her attention back to him. He gets a little rougher, showing off, and she can’t help but smirk and turn her head a little, pulling his fingers into her mouth.

“You gonna come on my cock?” he asks, his voice a low growl. She knows Ryan still hears him anyway. “Let me come inside you?”

Beck nods, high pitched noises muffled by his fingers, and he reaches down, pulling her leg higher as he all but slams into her. She doesn’t have time to wonder what this might look like to Ryan, who’s still watching them through a cloud of smoke. Justin yanks her hips in tight, going still as he spills inside of her, and it’s enough to push her over the edge a second time. Finally, she spits out his fingers, pressing her lips to his forehead as he puts almost all of his weight on her, knowing she likes it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Justin asks, and Beck’s brow furrows in confusion before she realizes he’s talking to Ryan. She glances over to see him grabbing his shorts to put back on. “You can’t leave.”

“I’m sure you guys are done with me by now and wanna clean up—”

“Get your ass back in this bed, Ry.” Beck says. Her voice hitches when Justin pulls out of her, only for him to spoon up behind her and wrap her in his arms, the mess between them ignored for now. “You’re staying the night.”

“But—”

“It’s another rule,” Justin informs him. “And you’re buying the coffee in the morning.”

Ryan stares at the two of them for a moment, before putting down his clothes and making his way back to the bed.

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#motionless in white fic #justin morrow fic #ryan sitkowski fic #justin morrow x ofc x ryan sitkowksi #.ficbysitkowski #tumblr prompt fills

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acertainmoshke · 1 year ago

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🧥 🍎 and 🌙 for the October ask game!

Ooh these are some good ones, thank you! I'll start with Cold Iron for this ask. And under a cut because, predictably, this got long.

🍎 apple: let’s talk about friendship in your wip. do you have any favorite friend/platonic dynamics? any friendships gone sour?

You know that scene in Leverage where Parker and Elliot are trapped in an ice cave having a deep conversation about how they have a darkness Hardison doesn't share because of who they are, what they've been through, and the things they have to be willing to do? That's basically Shakatra and Doug. By the time they meet, both are considerably more likely to kill casually and, while not exactly enjoying it, both understand it as a necessity so their better friends can be safe. Shaka introduces him to the idea of wandering deep into a rain-dripping forest and screaming at the top of your lungs, and Doug takes them to seedy bars to chill for once. Both of them are usually the most dangerous person in the room (Doug is human so of the two, Shaka is much more of a danger but compared to other humans Doug is awful fast and mean). They can both be kind of dicks in a very much not joking way, but it's refreshing that neither of them is bothered by the general grumbling, complaining, and insulting.

There WILL be some friendship drama but I'm not nearly far enough to know what it is yet.

🌙 moon: do any of your OCs have dark backstories or secrets they’re trying to keep?

Oof, does Shaka ever. This is actually my really self-indulgent darkness hit here. Not only were they an unwanted changeling child (in the early 1900's!), but their mother determined that rather than abandon them to die it was better to punish them for the loss of her real daughter. So they were abused and bullied throughout childhood, struggled as an autistic inhuman kid in school, got beat up by older brothers until they were old enough to strike back. But they stayed, even after they met Kris and understood that leaving was an option, they stayed because of their baby brother Richard. He was the only one who actually liked them, and they took care of him and protected him back.

What they're trying to hide is that they killed him.

They didn't, of course. Probably. If I really want to go dark I'll make it accidentally their fault, but as of right now what happened was he accidentally fell off the fire escape in a fight with his mother, and Shaka wasn't fast enough to save him. Both of them fell 7 stories. They weren't human, they survived with only bruises (and the general idea that they were unkillable and should test that theory as much as possible). He...did not. They ran away after that, and as of book 1 it's the only thing they haven't been fully honest with Kris about.

In later stories, they are also trying to hide who they were back at the beginning of the series as they learn to be less violent and have more compassion, they don't want to admit who they used to be.

🧥 warm coat: share a happy or fuzzy scene from your wip!

There haven't been a lot of these so far, but I'll do my best...

Ok, there haven't been any so I'm just going to write something. This takes place towards the end of the first book.

It was good to be home, but the platform seemed smaller than before. I took the stairs two at a time and spun on my bare feet at the bottom, letting my body fly into the nearest wall. The air stirred slightly and I raised my hand instinctively to catch the box of cigarettes. Kris, holding Jack on one hip, winked at me. I flicked the first one and the end sputtered into glowing life. I let myself take a long, comfortingly familiar, drag on it before flicking another one to life and placing it carefully between his lips, on the side away from where Jack snored against his shoulder. Maggie looked around and dropped Cassie's hand. Cassie, released, swayed until she almost collapsed, stumbled, and blinked up at the flickering lights. Maggie adjusted her glasses. "Think we could get some fire or something in here?" I went to share a glance with Kris, something like We've never needed one before, but he was already moving. There was a pile of paper bags in one corner with paper wrappings flung on top from all our diner meals. There may have been a trash can at the bottom of the pile at one point, but it was impossible to tell anymore. He tossed several into a small mound in a more central part of the platform, under a light. And then he threw his cigarette in the middle. Maybe it was the oil that soaked through the paper in big greasy stains, but it worked surprisingly well. Soon the fire flickered up almost to my eye level, the smoke drifting lazily up the stairs and down the street. "I'm really tired," Cassie said, yawning. She was leaning against the grubby tiled wall, in stark contrast to her blue silk gown, and tugging idly at one dark pigtail. We settled the kids into our old nook. They had enough room to burrow under the blankets until both vanished entirely. There wouldn't be room for two kids and three adults, but that was a problem for future us. The fire blazed. Warmth crept into my fingers and toes for what felt like the first time in my life. I lay my head on Kris' shoulder and he didn't pull away. He was huddling into the circle of heat and turning to ask Maggie if she wanted to try our diner tomorrow, which was definitely better than the one we met her in. I still didn't understand why this made her laugh, but things were good again and we were home and safe and actually warm and for just this moment that was all that mattered.

Tag list: @pga-books

#moshke writes #writeblr #cold iron #ask games

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narrators-journal · 2 years ago

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You were meant to be mine

This is kind of an ask, but not from the ask box, but from some comments that gave me the ideas I couldn’t cook up without it being pure incoherent nonesense or a 12 chapter fic lol. I hope you enjoy regardless, There’s likely more to come!

CW: Yandere behavior, murder, and a fucked sense of humor. Seriously, I leaned into Ryoji having a dark sense of humor, and Minato kinda shares it. Self harm jokes

"I seem to be cursed, funeral lillyyyyyy..." Ryoji whined as he squirmed and wriggled across Minato's dormitory bed like a dog after a bath. "How are you cursed? Too popular?" Minato joked, hardly looking up from the homework strewn across his desk, "No, since last week every girl I flirt with or hook up with seem to vanish, or they get that Apathy Syndrome shit that's apparently going around and just turn into blank husks..." Ryoji lamented, rolling onto his belly and dropping his cheek onto his arm so he could look over at the wildcard. "Maybe your dick's just that good," Minato shrugged, "Or just that bad." making his friend snort, "Okay, granted, that might be true, but whenever I fuck a girl or guy mindless, they come back from it." He pointed out, making the boy shrug again.

After that, the brunette returned to lamenting the loss of his partners and Minato seemed to simply tune him out. Though, in reality, the wildcard wasn't tuning him out so much as he was preoccupied with the gnawing sense of guilt that devoured him from the inside out. In my defense, I didn't do anything to those people. They were eaten by shadows. He reminded himself, but even if he could quell the shame of what he'd done on his nightly patrols, the fact that Ryoji's self esteem might be affected hit closer to home. They kind of deserved it though. The darker part of his mind whispered, but he did his best to shove that voice aside, but it only insisted,They were annoying, the school's better off without them. Which proved to make math leagues harder to concentrate on the english papers in front of him. But, before he could angst over his own weak morals and where he may have taken a wrong turn on the romantic response road, he registered that somebody was well into his personal space. When he looked, his stormy eyes were met with the playful, flirtatious glint of Ryoji's own water-colored orbs. "Hey Funeral Lily. Do you maybe wanna self harm tonight?~" He purred, and while he still felt the gnaw of his conscious fighting his jealousy, Minato couldn't help but cackle at that. "It hasn't even been a day since you came up with this theory, and you're using it to flirt, really?" The round-faced brunette only gave him a sweet smile, "If my dick really does have the power to make mindless zombies, wouldn't you jump me? Gotta shoot my shot whenever I have a new chance!~" he said, beginning to giggle at the sight of Minato losing his mind laughing. Was it hysterics due to his guilt and shame? Or was he finally just snapping? The wildcard couldn't tell, but either way Ryoji's giggling made him feel a warmth he hardly ever felt anymore, so nothing else really mattered. Okay, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to start feeding classmates to shadows.

#Persona 3 #Yandere #Yandere male persona 3 protagonist #Ryoji Mochizuki x male persona 3 protagonist #Makoto Yuuki #Minato Arisato #Ryoji Mochizuki #Persona

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adultswim2021 · 2 years ago

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Tim & Eric Nite Live #3: “Flipz” | November 20, 2007 - 10:00PM | S01E03

This will be the final of the “make good” Tim & Eric Nite Live review, and from here on out they’ll be weaved into their proper order with all the other shows. Thank you for your patience. Sorry if you are Nite-Live’d out, but to me there could be no such thing! I simply love this show too much.

This is the third episode anniversary special featuring the guy who did Flips in a season one Awesome Show sketch. I think they said where he was from, but his accent is the closest thing I’ve heard in real life to the voice Andy Kaufman puts on when he’s doing his foreign man character. We are celebrating with tuxedos, champagne, cake, and extra decorations. Eric holds up a cake in the shape of a number three. He does this again during the closing credits, only this time some of it falls to the ground. I’ve often said that a lot of On Cinema at the Cinema’s DNA is present in Tim & Eric Nite Live, with Tim’s irritable dick persona being very similar to his On Cinema persona. The cake-dropping bit here really seals the deal for me.

This one has it’s share of actual awkwardness, like every time David Liebe Hart interjects almost anything. There’s also a squirmy bit where Tim & Eric confuse Milan, the master flipsman, by seemingly springing an ad read for Flipz chocolate pretzels on him, which he sorta stumbles through. It’s another one of Tim & Eric’s fake/ironic sponsorships. There’s also a passing reference to FrankTV, which I’m assuming was Super Deluxe’s on-site promotion at the time this episode streamed.

In this installment we play “Pound for Pound”, a joke-off between DJ Dougpound and a young boy named David Gore, a young stand-up comic. We will also see him in the next episode of Awesome Show. They trade jokes, with DJ Dougpounds being a little more sophisticated, just ironic and intentionally lame. His joke about buying a digital camera the deli is memorable (7.2 mega-pickles).

At the end of Pound for Pound, James Quall, David Liebe Hart, and George Kerr, a violinist all vote for who they think won. DLH doesn’t seem to be with the program; I believe that he was briefed to vote in such a way that there would be a tie, but instead of doing that he just declares that his vote was for a tie. When they push him to vote for one or the other contestant, he picks the wrong one, causing Tim & Eric to improvise their way out of the situation by declaring George Kerr’s violin solo to count as two votes. The real tie-breaker is left to the flipmaster general Milan, who also seems to mix-up the names and not be sure who he’s voting for. David wins the competition, and Doug’s parents are briefly interviewed to shame their son for losing a comedy competition to a child.

George Kerr, by the way, used to perform in some kind of band with DLH as part of some kind of comedy tour, but DLH alleged that he was influenced by his family to not hang out with DLH because he’s black. Full interview is here. I wouldn’t take that too seriously because the things DLH can be a little suspect. I think we can read between the lines on this one. Hopefully it isn’t true.

Fred Armisen does a very Fred Armisen-style bit as a guy who counts hits for websites. The bit is fine and intentionally mind-numbing, but DLH doesn’t seem to be in on the joke when he very earnestly asks Fred about real-life harassment he’d been suffering from Tim & Eric fans. My personal theory is that moments like this lead to Tim & Eric trying to be a little more careful and less exploity of their outsider cast members. For those who are uncomfortable with that aspect of the Tim & Eric experience, this is a pretty potent moment that makes them look not too good. Through my perverse eyes, it saves the segment.

Rounding out the rest; we get to see the upcoming Thocks sketch. I have a vague memory of Tim & Eric appearing on, I think, Dave Navaro’s talk show which was another web-only show that streamed live on ManiaTV (the network that aired Tom Green’s internet talk show). They showed the Thocks sketch on his show too, and presented him with an actual pair of thocks. I remember Dave lighting up and proudly declaring that he was going to wear them for real.

There’s a subtle reveal in this one: Richard Dunn appears via skype, and is said to not be in studio this episode. But at the end while the credits roll he just casually joins the fray. I love shit like that. (screaming, scarily) I LOVE IT SO MUCH.

#tim and eric nite live #adultswim2021 #adult swim

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dracones24 · 2 years ago

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greetings and salutations, hope I don’t bother you too much by sending in such a random ask. may I please have a romantic matchup for bsd? nsfw parts are up to you, surprise me.

I’m 19, I use they/them pronouns and I’m pansexual. my myers briggs type is INFJ and my star sign is taurus.

Im about 4’11..not to happy about it. I’m kind of introverted, and can be considered not a people person. I find life a little nihilistic. I’m into dressing in all black and taking a liking to gruesome and morbid things like slashers, analog horror, death games, true crime, necromancy and anatomy. I typically consider myself a "gorehound". I also like to visit abandoned places just for fun, along with playing quite a few escape rooms. I just have a genuine comfort in the uncomfortable.

I’ve come to the conclusion I just scare people off. In reality, I’m intimidated by everyone around me and find it hard to start taking, which may or may not come off as rude to people.

when I become comfortable with someone I start to become really sarcastic and joke around with them with witty banter. most of my humor comes off really insulting, but I’ll apologize and say it’s a joke if it becomes a problem. even though I do have a hard time understanding physical social cues.

lots of people don’t like me or stay away from me because of my rude behavior. I’m not good with overly sensitive or overly annoying people at all because of that, and I can’t stand kids. Idiocy can get on my nerves too sometimes. I’m a huge animal person though. I have my moments where I can get really feisty, or very quiet and closed off. I’ve been told I’m also a laidback person. I’ve also been told I never know when to quit, and I find I hold grudges for certain things.

I’m the type of person that has lots of opinions on things but I keep them to myself and bottle them up. If pushed far enough I’ll become unforgiving, and aggressive. especially with the types mentioned above.

I find the most comfort in just being in my room drawing, listening to music ( pierce the veil, deftones, system of a down, slipknot, rob zombie,,, sometimes the radiohead, insane clown posse, jazmin bean or mother mother, etc. ), or even occasionally playing video games, reading, writing, or talking about a random conspiracy theory I have. I do acting in my spare time as a small hobby too, and I’m learning how to play electric guitar.

I’m a plushie maniac and when I fall asleep you can always see me cuddled up to one of them. I find it because I’m really touch starved. Im also a caffeine addict, and I’m guilty of being very submissive and maybe even masochistic- and a bit of a pyromaniac. I dissociate or daydream a lot, so you can often catch me starring.

I suffer from a handful off mental and physical syndromes like adhd, insomnia, asthma, depression and anxiety. These have all been diagnosed professionally, and I’m definitely not trying to make myself "quirky". unfortunately health problems run in my family.

I’m very fidgety, and often bite the inside of my cheek or bounce my leg rapidly. you don’t need to rocmantasize this stuff ofc, but I think it’s good to know so the person can tolerate me.

you do get to this, thanks for your time. <3

I pair you with.... Kouyou!

Kouyou is unbothered by gore or darker content, but she also isn't well versed in it, so you could spend a lot of time showing her things

Your music taste shes more hit or miss on, but she never minds you playing it and often looks up the lyrics

She is deeply endeared by your love of plushies, expect new ones gifted Regularly

Kouyou tends to keep her opinions under wraps, too, but with her gentle encouragement I could see you opening up

Being a dick isnt really a love language for Kouyou, but she has a thick skin, you're unlikely to ever hurt her feelings, and she seems to always know when you mean it and when you don't

Kouyou is reserved but passionate, unlikely to get on your nerves

Kouyou actually kinda likes how you can tear into someone, she likes that kind of strength in a partner

She would run a soothing hand along the nearest accessible place when you get fidgety, wanting to provide stimulation for you to hopefully settle you

Youre 4'11, shes like 5'7, so when she wants to she can use the height gap to seem more dominant, but mostly its easy not to notice, shes not the sort to joke about your height much

Kouyou also is great about your pronouns and she keeps careful track of which gendered terms you are or are not comfortable with, shes also zero tolerance for anyone else misgendering you Ever

She is the sort to scoop you up and carry you though

Shes a gift giver, expect thoughtful presents Always, from luxurious clothes to stuffies to fancy coffee related things to records

She likes to read anything you write, shes got amazing grammar if you ever wanted a beta

Dont tell her you're a pyromaniac, she Is in the mafia and Would take you to watch arson from a safe distance like its a date

Kouyou may not be a chatterbox, but she has alright social skills, and she makes up for your more standoffish nature

She is also quite touch starved, and roves her hands over you whenever youre alone, her PDA is more chaste, never exceeding hand holding or a kiss to the cheek, but alone? Her hands are always trailing over you

She has zero qualms about playing the dominant role, though for special occassions she'd switch things up

Kouyou loves to be eaten out, if thats something you came to enjoy, she'd gladly slip you under a desk or play with your hair and praise you while she sits on your face

She also isnt put off by your masochism, in fact she'd make good use of it. Expect claw marks from her nails. She never is Too rough on you because she hates to see you truly Hurt, but she definitely isnt put off by some rough play

If youre into wax, I think that would be a favorite for her, its a lot of intense senations without her needing to worry about harming you as much as she might with heavier impact play or something

Wanna be stepped on? Shes got you covered there too

She can also be really gentle though, making love to every inch of you diligently, spoiling you with lingerie or your preferred form of empowering clothing, its almost worshipful the way she kneads her fingers into sore muscles and kisses along the way

#ask #ask game #bsd matchups #kouyou

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 4 years ago

Text

The Kind that Never Slows Down | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 10k

✦ summary — Gotham is hit with a spell that changes your perception of Damian forever.

✦ warnings — nsfw, semi-public sex, non-con sex (not really but just to be safe), angst, language, light jealousy, light possessiveness, mentions of food, smut, unprotected sex (please don’t do this), consensual sex, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, fluff.

✦ author's note — this one should’ve been published a long time ago, but I just got around editing it. Hope you like it.

════════════════════════

The abandoned building smelled like piss and mold, the only light available entered through a broken window, and you were pretty sure you had heard rats roaming around.

But you didn’t care. Robin’s hands were all over you, plump lips sucking on your neck like his life depended on it as he pounded into you.

It wasn’t enough.

He had skipped foreplay on your insistence. You needed him more than anything, if he didn’t fuck you right there in that moment you wouldn’t be able to survive.

He grunted out of pleasure as you clenched around him, gripping your hips to ground himself as he picked up his already relentless pace.

It still wasn’t enough.

Having his cum down your thighs and marks over your neck from his kisses wasn’t enough either. Your body craved all of him, including his whining and abrasive words.

Noise outside prompted him to part from you completely. Both of you fixed yourselves as best as you could in silence, avoiding looking at the other.

You followed him outside with a sense of guilt hovering over you like a dark cloud. You felt like you had just gotten out of a trance after committing the worst of the crimes.

Nightwing stopped you by yelling, “Where were you? I looked for you two everywhere.”

“We were looking for you,” Robin lied smoothly.

Nightwing’s shoulders slumped as he nodded. “Well, Zatana undid the spell.”

Suddenly Damian’s urgent voice as he said he needed you made all the sense in the world. His need for you and your need for him had been magic-induced.

Of course it had been! You two were mere acquaintances who fought all the time for the most minimal things in the world or ignored the other to the point of making people around you uncomfortable. It was a surprise that you worked well together at night.

“A lust spell, right?”

“Well, no,” Nightwing chuckled. “According to her, the spell showed people what their heart desires the most.”

Robin stiffened beside you, and you felt every drop of blood drain from your face and fall to your feet.

“Did you hear a lot of people having sex?”

“Yeah,” you croaked. “Tons of them.”

The moment you got home, you ripped your suit off and walked into the shower. You washed his cum off you, scrubbing your body twice just to make sure.

Wishing the soap could erase the marks on your neck and the memory of the way he had moaned your name, you decided to take a pill to sleep.

You hadn’t needed one of those in months, but Damian was that special. Or annoying.

God, you hated him and his stupid ego. He would surely find funny the lengths you would have to go to put this in the past.

He loved being the center of attention as much as he hated you, that was why you always tried your best to avoid him. When you didn’t avoid him, he made weird faces at you and scoffed every time you laughed.

Turning the lamp off, you hoped for the best.

Meanwhile, Damian ignored Dick’s inquiries. Why did his brother care if he was extremely quiet or if he looked like he was about to explode?

Your scent was all over him, still bewitching him, overpowering his sweat and the smell of everybody around him.

Looking down at his hands, the gloved palms that had hours before gripped and traced as much of your body as your suit had allowed him to, Damian clenched his jaw.

How could he have been so stupid? There was no other reason for you to beg him to fuck you the way you had — magic! He fucking hated magic.

But Dick’s explanation... that was worse. More stupid. He hated it too. His brother had to be wrong.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone from his family was wrong regarding magic, and Zatanna while an expert had her own biases.

Besides, his heart could have been desiring to get off the most just like yours. The two of you were busy people after all.

“Did the spell show you anything, Dami?”

The prettiest face he had seen in his entire life. “A pet demon.”

He regretted the lie the moment he said it. Damian wished a lot of things could be different. His mother would be furious if she knew how sentimental he was becoming, if she found out how often he gave into wishful thinking.

For once, he wanted to be open. But as always something was stopping him. Sometimes he wondered if he had been born to be like that or if his grandfather had simply lied.

Leaving the cave the moment he was dismissed, he trotted upstairs almost praying Dick wouldn’t follow him.

He couldn’t stop replaying the way you clung to him, or the harshness of your kiss. It had felt real, and too perfect to be happening to him all at once.

But you hated him, everybody and their mother knew that.

════════════════════════

Barbara had never been subtle around you. There had never been a need for such a thing — she was like the older sister you never had, you two carried the other’s secrets and burdens.

Back when you met her, barely as a teen, she provided a safe place you only had ever dreamt of having. You vowed to give it all back; she deserved it.

“What’s up with the turtleneck?” She asked, unsubtly so with her bright eyes on your neck.

“I have a cold,” you feigned a rasp. Perhaps this secret wouldn’t be shared.

“Mmmh. Really?” She poured herself a cup of coffee. “Dick said Damian was feeling under the weather too.”

Yup. Definitely not sharing. It would be embarrassing. She had always had the theory that you were in love with Damian just because you complained about him on a weekly basis.

It was like she had never met him.

In a way, the theory was correct. But it lacked a lot of details — a spell had confirmed it from all things. It sounded ironic, quite suitable to your situation.

“Flu season, I guess.”

It was a bad lie. Everybody knew when flu season arrived because Tim started getting a stuffy nose and limiting his consumption of Red Bull in order to drink more water.

”Did the spell from the other night show you anything?”

You faked a cough, shaking your head. “I was busy on patrol.”

“I was too and I saw Dick.”

“That’s just wishful thinking, Babs. It’s cute, though.”

Her not seeing Dick would have surprised you. They had known each other for years, gone through so much together... most people wanted what they had.

“Is there a particular reason why you’re lying to me?”

You wrapped your fingers around your mug. The heat transferring from the ceramic to your palm reminded you of Damian’s breath on your lips.

Taking a gulp of coffee, you blinked rapidly. “You don’t think it’s cute?”

She rolled her eyes. “Everybody saw something. It’s how those spells work.”

“There must be something wrong with me.”

There really had to be something awfully wrong with you. Saying out loud that you wanted Damian more than anything in the world terrified you.

It was a normal thing. Not wanting him specifically, but wanting someone — everybody craved attention and love at some level, you just happened to crave Damian’s at every single one.

He was the problem, not you.

════════════════════════

Movie marathons weren’t something Damian really cared for, but they were better than hearing his father complain about minor things like if he had ruined a goon’s lungs or whatever.

Alfred called it bonding time which he supposed was a fair assessment. He found Tim’s taste in movies quite good, and now he didn’t get the urge to strangle his slightly older brother in his sleep.

His stepmother was there too. Selina had been the reason why Bruce shifted his ways, she urged him to either find a balance or stop adding people to the team.

Duke made him pass a bowl of popcorn to Tim who did the same to Stephanie. The bowl landed on Dick who was on the row behind them, just next to Jason.

Getting more comfortable on his seat, his eyes fell on the empty spot to Duke’s right. Cassandra used to sit there until one afternoon Duke couldn’t seem to shut up and she asked you to switch places. You always went with the things Duke said, sometimes even asked his opinion.

Damian complained once, telling his sister to suck it up next time. But Cassandra would never do something he told her to, that was perhaps why she was his favorite.

Everyone around him was in an amazing mood which he didn’t understand. Bruce had just tried to tell a joke, and Jason was mocking how dumb it was.

Selina laughed loudly, in that way people did when they felt genuinely happy. At least that was what he supposed; Damian wasn’t sure he had ever experienced happiness.

The sound of an approaching wheelchair made his ears perk up. Not a single pair of shoes could be heard against the floor. Fighting a frown, he turned to look at the door.

Barbara waved at all of them with a smile, maneuvering her wheelchair to sit next to Dick’s seat. Craning his neck with the excuse of saying hi, Damian watched her give Dick a chaste kiss.

“Where’s (Nickname)?” Dick asked, lifting his arm to rest it on the back of Barbara’s chair.

“She said she was feeling sick. Although...” Barbara giggled, leaning onto Dick’s arm. “I heard the voice of a guy in the background so she might have company.”

Damian felt sick upon hearing such a thing. First, you had asked to be paired up with Duke for patrol and now this? It was too much even for your pettiness — granted, he had planned on putting more distance between you two, but he hadn’t gone around trying to find someone to erase you.

The thought never crossed him, not for a single moment. He had wondered why he wished to cling to a memory when he had never been the sentimental type, but he realized that to be the entire point of deep desires.

“Well, it’s time,” Stephanie commented, “she’s been single for too long.”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to scare him off,” Selina added.

Damian stood up from the now uncomfortable seat, forcing Duke to do the same so he could leave. Duke stared at him weirdly, with worry, as if he knew something Damian didn’t want him to.

He probably did. Damian had been careless two times in a row. God, he needed to get a fucking grip. Unconsciously, he fiddled with the neck of his sweater.

“Oi,” Jason called for him, “where are you going?”

“Out,” he answered angrily. “If other... members... may skip this, why can’t I?”

Barbara and Dick shared a sideways glance.

Only telling Alfred that he would be back later, Damian followed the path towards the garage. Skipping his bike for once, finding himself thinking he wanted to take as little shortcuts as possible for whatever reason, he took his car.

Damian had always been a fan of driving. He didn’t know why, it was tedious and didn’t serve many purposes in the grand scheme of things; not to him. Ever since he learned, he took every opportunity he got to drive whichever vehicle he could get his hands on.

Having control over vehicles and machines was nice, he supposed. If people were a little bit more like said things, everything would have been easier. The world would be boring, but easier to habit.

Saving people was easy, caring about them from afar gave him enough human interaction for his standards, but he would never understand them.

And for the first time since he tried to decode his mother’s attitude, he wanted to understand someone more than anything. Perhaps that way said someone would understand him back and untangle this mess.

The building before him wasn’t welcoming. He had never put foot into that place, but he knew every single person that lived there — patrol gave him that kind of knowledge. And he did some research months ago, but no one needed to be aware of such thing.

He pressed his ear to the door he had been looking for. The dishwasher was on, but he couldn’t pick up any other sound. Damian knocked on said door three times, quickly and loudly. There was no answer so he did it again. A door slammed shut inside the apartment, a groan accompanied by a string of curses got clearer as stomps approached him.

Standing tall and straight, he felt a thrill down his spine as the lock was loudly fiddled with.

You swung the door open, rubbing your eye. He observed you had thrown a turtleneck on, upside down. Damian walked past you without invitation, analyzing the living room.

There were no clothes scattered all over the floor like he had imagined he would find.

“What are you doing here?”

He ignored you, exploring the kitchen. Damian opened the fridge, narrowing his eyes as he inspected. He did the same with the cupboards.

Shoving your bedroom door open, he found the bed undone. The TV was on, playing an old movie. He heard your steps as you followed him, repeating your question.

“Is someone from the team in danger?” You asked next.

Damian pulled your closet open, tilting his head. You could’ve been more organized, he admitted to himself, but there was nothing unusual.

Craning his neck to look at you, he inquired, “Where is he?”

“Where’s who?! What’s going on?”

He stared at you, waiting for you to crack. To his surprise, you stared back — defiant, blinking less and less as the seconds passed.

You were mad, he could tell. It only made him grow more suspicious. Tensing under your eyes, sharp instead of soft like they usually were, he scoffed; he couldn’t show he cared.

“Dude,” you insisted, “you are scaring me. What happened?”

Shaking his head, he pushed past you again and continued his search. The bathroom was warm, the mirror fogged up and tiles sprinkled with drops of water.

He turned around, watching you again. Well, your hair was wet now that he paid more attention to it...

Damian checked in the small laundry room too, but he found bottles of detergent and folded towels next to your suit. Nothing else. No one else.

“Damian—“

“Shut up.” He pointed at you with a finger.

“You are the one who came to my place to look for whatever or whoever you are searching for! Unprompted!”

He didn’t answer.

You went back to your bedroom to turn the TV off and pause the movie, resigned to the fact that he had ruined your self-care day.

No one knew you would be home that day. You had ignored everybody’s calls and avoided being active on social media just in case they were stalking you. Turns out the utmost secrecy isn’t enough to avoid Damian Wayne.

He stood in the living room, looking down at the coffee table as if expecting the furniture to turn into something else. Fixing his eyes on the centerpiece he knew Dick had given you as a gift because it reminded him of you, Damian furrowed his brows.

“Have you been alone the entire day?” He asked, feeling your presence behind him.

“My neighbor brought some cake. Other than that, yeah.”

“Barbara said you had... company.”

“I haven’t talked to Babs in days.”

Barbara had continued asking about what you saw that night with the spell, and you weren’t willing to say it still. Weeks had passed, but it felt like mere seconds had at times. It was so easy for her to ask, to assume things.

Only you knew the conflict you were feeling. She would never understand how awful it was to find out the one you desire the most is the one who likes you the least.

You had entertained the naive idea that he was in the same position, but the more you replayed what had happened, the more you convinced yourself it had been one-sided. He gave in because the release was pleasant, nothing else. People say things they don’t mean while having sex.

You had done it before, for fuck’s sake. You had faked having a good time before, who was to say Damian hadn’t done the same with you?

“Have you seen anybody else?” He blurted.

“My neighbor, I told you.”

He reformulated, “Have you had sex with anybody else?”

You considered lying, you really did. It would make the tension go away, you would have to see him around with other people but it would save you from a lot of embarrassment.

A part of you told you it was stupid, that you wouldn’t be able to take it. Much less when the people who usually took some interest in you tended to ghost you for whatever reason.

“Not since that night, if that’s what you’re asking,” you admitted.

“Good.” It slipped, but he didn’t care. He meant it, and it felt nice to say things he meant, no matter how harsh they could sound.

You rounded the room, crossing your arms as you stood in front of him. “Why are you here?”

“I was told you had company,” he repeated himself.

“And your logic was to interrupt me?”

“Yes.”

You couldn’t believe him. Did he want you to be alone and miserable your entire life?

The worst part was that you would probably be. Finding out you liked him, that you wanted to have him around, that you craved his attention, and his touch, rocked your world and shattered it.

Who would ever compare to him? His flaws were other people’s better qualities, even you who didn’t know his good side that well was aware of that.

“Do you really hate me that much? I’ve never done anything to you!”

He finally lifted his head. You wished he hadn’t, you wished you didn’t have to see anything other than anger in his handsome features. “I don’t hate you. I would make your life a living hell if I did.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” you chuckled, way more sadly than you thought yourself capable to feel regarding anything that came from him. “You roll your eyes at me every time I visit your house, Damian.”

“It’s not intended at you.”

“The scoffs sure are,” you reproached him, “and your stupid comments of how unfunny anything that makes me laugh is.”

“It’s not because of you,” he shouted. Shaking his head, vexed, he twisted his mouth as he huffed his anger out through his nose. “Cassandra’s jokes aren’t even that funny.”

“See?”

“Why don’t you laugh at mine?” He reproached now, crossing his arms to mimic your stance. “Why is it always one of my siblings or my friends who get a positive response but not me?”

“Oh, come on! You’re saying that like I didn’t come by hearing you say my name a few weeks ago!” Your words stunned him into silence which you used to your advantage. “You never tell jokes in front of me, how am I supposed to laugh at them? I always feel like shit because you only accept being around me on patrol, you entrench yourself in your room and make a point to slam the door shut just so I hear... you know what? Forget it.”

“I hate seeing you with them,” he said, wishing his words hadn’t carried that much emotion. “I always bribe people to not ask you out or to leave you alone, I have to watch you hug Jon and kiss my siblings’ faces. You’re always so damn nice until I appear... I prefer being alone than enduring your indifference.”

You widened your eyes. “You bribe people to not ask me out?!”

“Is that the only upsetting part from everything I said?” he snapped.

“No, no. Of course not. I just...”

He hummed. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“A waste of money, honestly.”

“If I didn’t, you would be with someone else right now. Probably Duke, you’ve always liked him.”

“You bribed Duke?” You let a small laugh out. “Duke? Our Duke?”

“Yes! Stop mocking me.”

“Duke knows everything, you know?” You admitted, uncrossing your arms.

You hadn’t been able to keep things to yourself for that long. Seeing Damian around suddenly hurt. The feeling had always been there, but finding out that he was your heart’s deepest desire wrecked your perception

When you told Duke, he reacted casually, as if you had told him the most obvious thing in the world. He said you and Damian were the only ones who hadn’t seen it.

“He knew certain things before I did, in fact,” you added. “Besides, I see him as a brother and he sees me as a sister.”

Damian nodded. It made sense, now Duke’s attitude seemed normal in comparison to what Damian had assumed.

He always assumed things. Bruce had told him once that he needed to learn to ask before acting out — this was the first time Damian found his father’s words useful.

“Why did you kiss me that night?”

“I believe it was more than kissing.”

“Yes.” Damian hadn’t been able to forget, he never would. “But why?”

“I felt... I don’t know how to explain it,” you confessed.

The room suddenly felt small, extremely hot. You shed the stupid turtleneck, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done the stubborn marks on your neck.

Make-up had hidden them well for a few days, and most of them had faded already, but there were two bite-marks, too big and deep, that needed more healing time.

“I was scared,” you told him, “that’s why I felt the rush to take your hand. And it was enough for a while, but then it wasn’t, I wanted you closer.”

“I couldn’t breathe. I assumed I was being poisoned. Then you took my hand and I panicked for a moment, I thought...” his voice broke.

You gave him time, trying your hardest to hide how surprised you were by hearing him like that.

“I thought you were having the same symptoms,” he rasped. “I’ve been trained to fight those things off, but you haven’t and I knew you would die. Your hand made it better for a few minutes, then I needed you closer too.”

“We can forget about it if you want,” you assured him, avoiding looking at his face in case your comment relieved him.

“I don’t.”

Damian reached for your hand in the same fashion you had that cursed —literally— night, shakily, urgently.

And in the same fashion he had, you allowed him to take it.

He brought you closer to him. You observed he looked more tired than ever, perhaps because things had been tense for the past weeks. You couldn’t have possibly looked too different.

“The spell doesn’t have to dictate this,” he said, tilting his head to look into your eyes. “It won’t. You know I don’t trust magic.”

“The spell is not the problem,” you whispered.

“I didn’t think there was a problem.”

“We have never spent time together outside of patrol, Damian.”

He sighed, nodding. “Get changed. Let’s go out.”

Only a lunatic would give their self-care day up for a guy. Well, you didn’t really care if people thought you were a lunatic, and Damian wasn’t just a guy — still, giving up the ice cream in your fridge was a sin.

A sin you were happy to commit.

Damian waited for you to get changed, patiently if anyone asked you. It had taken you a few minutes to even choose something appropriate, based on his own outfit because that was just logic.

He slipped his cellphone into his pocket while you locked the door. As you turned around to take off, he offered his hand.

You took it, intertwining your fingers with his as you walked down the hallway. In the middle of the stairway, you bumped into one of your neighbors who smiled sweetly at both of you. To your surprise, Damian smiled back.

Also surprised to discover he hadn’t taken his bike, you bowed as a thank you when he opened the door of his car for you.

“Do you want to put some music on?” he offered.

“You pick,” you said, curious as to what he would play.

You could’ve sworn he was nervous as he stared down at his phone, looking for something to play. He scrolled down, then up — he switched apps, then continued scrolling.

“I’m not picky.” Your tone was soft, an attempt to assure him.

“I don’t really listen to a variety of genres.”

“What do you listen to the most?”

“Classical. My mother got me used to it.”

You rested the side of your head on the backrest of the seat, looking at him. “You can play that if you want. Or we can just talk about the weather and whatnot. I think it might rain tonight. You like rain, right?”

He locked his cellphone, turning to face you. “Yes. It calms me.”

“I hated it as a kid,” you disclosed, hoping it would ease the tension and better his mood. “I was scared of thunderstorms.”

Igniting the engine, he prompted you to continue, “Not anymore?”

“No. My mom used to tell me that the only reason why they were so noisy was that the sky was happy to unwind and eventually I believed it.”

“That’s cute.”

“I had a phase in which I was in a bad mood if it didn’t rain.” You laughed at your own comment. “Now I like it just fine, less obsessively.”

“I had a similar fixation with snow.” He laughed too, and your stomach did somersaults — it was the first time you had heard him laugh genuinely.

Damian didn’t talk about life at The League often, he didn’t feel compelled when he knew the preconceptions that came with simply mentioning the place or his maternal family.

In fact, everything Batman Inc.’s members knew had been from Bruce. He liked the secrecy, those were parts of him and no one else. But he was willing to share tiny pieces with you.

He saw it as something supposed to be shared between two people interested in starting a relationship.

So he continued, “I would only climb mountains if they were covered by snow. My mother called me a brat many times, but she gave into my wishes for a while.”

“How did you grow out of it?”

“I broke my elbow.” He briefly looked to the side and then took a turn. “I proved her right, and I didn’t like not having the last word so I started despising the snow. I don’t mind it now.”

Before you could ask anything else, he pulled into the grocery store’s parking lot.

He picked a basket once inside the store, making a motion for you to follow him.

“What are we buying?”

“Fruit and whatever you want for a picnic.”

Realizing you weren’t near the fruits aisle, you gripped his sweater, steering him to the other side. Of course he wasn’t used to doing groceries.

He silently allowed you to guide him which was a win, Damian hated being told what to do no matter how small the suggestion was.

It didn’t take either of you too long to get everything you needed, but he spent ten minutes choosing a blanket as if he wouldn’t ruin the poor thing with mud and insects.

Passing the clothing area on your way to do checkout, you elbowed him on the side. He stared down at you, then followed your eyes as he realized they were fixed on something.

Damian groaned. “You’re so funny.”

“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you wouldn’t buy Batman underwear?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I am not.”

You narrowed your eyes, keeping your laugh in when you saw what resembled a pout on his face. “Robin’s?” you tried.

“Perhaps.”

You lost it at that. “Are they comfy?”

“Will you stop laughing if I say yes?”

“Only if it’s the truth.”

He just nodded, then did the gesture upward so you would resume the path towards the exit.

Pleased with his answer, you walked towards the checkout line. Damian stood behind you, breathing your scent in.

“Is that a new perfume?”

You craned your neck. “How did you know?”

Shrugging, hoping he was being nonchalant enough, he said, “I have a good nose.”

After a brief fight over who would pay for the groceries, —which he won by saying it had been his idea—, you left the store in direction of the park.

Your hand found his naturally, as if your palm’s place was to be pressed against his bigger one.

It felt good, but not really because of that bullshit —true, but bullshit still when magic was so unpredictable— of him being what your heart desired the most. The truth was that you could feel in his grip how much he wanted this to go well.

Swinging your clasped hands, you walked around the park, looking for the perfect spot to sit at.

You found a spot away from the kids running around, against a tree. Damian laid the blanket on the grass, placing the paper bags onto it next.

He slid an arm around your shoulders, using his other hand to eat.

“Do you think your family is already spying on us?” you asked gazing at him as you leaned onto his arm.

“I am certain.”

“You don’t mind?”

He lightly smiled at you, reaching for a strawberry. “Not at all. Do you?”

“Nah. I’m not looking forward to Barbara’s teasing, though.”

“Why did she tell us you had a guy over?” He bit down into the fruit.

“She has always said I have feelings for you.” You wiped the corner of his mouth with your thumb. It never occurred to either of you that you would need napkins. “And I guess she put two and two together when we covered our necks and used the same excuse.”

“In my defense, I could have blamed Tim.”

“In my defense,” you copied his smart-ass tone, “I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“You told Duke from all people.”

“Duke was supportive.”

Damian hummed sarcastically. “I’m sure everybody knows the details already. He loves to gossip.”

Seeing you frown before you turned to look to the other side, he reached for your farthest cheek, softly pushing your face so you would stare at him.

“I don’t care if they know.”

You wished you could have believed him. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have avoided me the same way I avoided you.”

“I cared,” he clarified, “not anymore.”

“What changed?”

“Me, my priorities… my vision of you, of this.”

You took an apple in your hand. Rolling the fruit in your grasp, you only nodded. Saying something else would have been nice, appropriate even, but words escaped you.

The fact that he didn’t hate you was still pretty new, shocking to some extent. His willingness to be seen with you by family and strangers alike was a huge compliment, and a big deal.

It was too serious so suddenly… you liked it no matter how scary it was. There had to be a reason why he felt so sure about this, and trusting Damian had never been a bad idea.

Except from that time when you ended up with stitches all over your arm, but you could let that go if it meant having him by your side. As corny as it sounded.

“Meetings will be weird, won’t they?” You sunk your teeth into the apple, hearing him chuckle.

“Less awkward, I hope. Although I enjoy vexing my siblings.”

“We can have fake fights in front of them if you want.”

“And blame them for our nonexistent problems?”

“Of course, I’m sure they will try to give their input either way.”

Damian groaned. He feared just that. It would be out of a place of care, he knew, but it didn’t make it less intrusive — he could picture Dick, sitting down in front of him in the cave, with a big smile and dangling his finger as he told him the way he was supposed to treat you.

He liked to imagine that Cassandra would only threaten him. Perhaps Stephanie would do the same and stop Tim from patronizing him.

Not wanting to ruin the moment by thinking what would Jason and Duke do, he shifted and changed the subject to the movie you had been watching earlier.

You explained that it had been one of your favorites and told him the plot between bites, amused by the fact that he was trying to look interested even though you knew it wasn’t his type of movie.

He told you about the movies the team was supposed to watch that day. You didn’t feel guilty for skipping; as much as you loved them, you needed time for yourself.

Spending time with Damian on this occasion counted as time for yourself, although you would make yourself clear to him that you would eventually need alone time for real. It was a mere exception.

The two of you walked around the park for a while, talking about random things. He was surprisingly easy to talk to once you tried, and God did you try.

It couldn’t get better than hearing him speak casually, about the architecture nearby and the types of flora around the park, in a light tone and with his hand in yours.

Your fingers played with his, and once again you found yourself in awe of him, of how comfortable he was with the mindless gesture and his willingness to keep up with it. You doubted someone would ever surprise you as much as Damian did.

Slowing down a little bit to take the scenery in, you naturally tightened the grip of your fingers on his.

It was such a nice day to be outside… perhaps the weather cast had been wrong and it wouldn’t rain.

The city was bathed in a pink glow as the sun set, unrecognizable. No one would have guessed such scenery to take place in a deeply violent and corrupted place, not even the most optimistic person in the world.

You remembered clearly how surprised Jon had been the first time he saw something other than thundering rain and gray skies in Gotham.

Glittering under the sunlight, the flowers at the end of the playground looked alive for once as the sky stunned many around you. And when you turned to look at Damian, curious about his reaction, you found his eyes solely on you.

The trees, so green under the light of dusk, had nothing on Damian’s eyes. Such thought, so familiar that you felt as though it wasn’t the first time it crossed your mind, so natural that you found it a fact and not an opinion, made you forget about everything around you.

He continued gazing at you, finding the curiosity in your beautiful eyes flattering. Oh, how much he enjoyed being the object of your attention.

The scenery behind you was gorgeous, he was certain of it. In his opinion, you complimented the view in ways nothing would ever do — there was something in your peaceful semblance as you tore your gaze off the sky and admired him instead.

You could’ve been sharing a silent moment with the strangers around you, one of those things he had heard you say once made the world make sense, yet your eyes were on him, on his face. And it made him feel important like nothing before had.

His father’s praises, the ones he had sought for so long were nothing in comparison. Dick’s patience although fundamental to his development as a man fell short against the way your eyes were shining for him.

Twilight swirled around you, but his eyes never left your face nor yours did his. The world didn’t exist, and if it existed, then it didn’t matter — not when you found him worth all your attention, not when he thought you to be brighter than the sun itself.

The air in the car as he drove you back to your place was thick and tense. He hadn’t said a word since he told you about that time Bruce inaugurated the school across the park.

Damian looked lost in thought, like often you had seen him while out on patrol. The places his mind took him had never compromised his performance — you admired that.

Bruce had called him out an infinite amount of times, but he couldn’t do anything else when Damian always delivered. You had wondered how he did it many times, but now you had to assume Talia taught him.

He walked you into the building, fingers brushing your wrist as you fell in natural silence.

Fumbling for your keys, you felt him lean onto the wall just next to your door. You took more time than needed to open the door, hoping he would say or do something.

When he didn’t, you pushed the door open and turned on your heel to face him.

“I had an amazing day with you,” he said, eyes on yours.

You breathed out, “I did too.”

Why couldn’t the day last longer? You logically knew you would see him again, but something inside you wanted him to stay. You wanted him to stay, better said.

Would it be too bold, too sudden, to invite him in? He probably had patrol that night — hell, you were supposed to be getting into your suit at that moment instead of pondering on whether you were brave enough to imply you wanted to spend more time with him; preferably in your room, naked.

Fuck it. If he said no, you would say you had patrol either way.

“Do you want to co—“

“Yes,” he answered before you could finish the question, letting a relieved sigh out.

You pulled him into the apartment, arm around his neck as you used your other hand to close the door.

His lips fell on yours as he kissed you slowly, arms delicately around your plump form. He took his time to map your lips with his own, somewhat afraid of kissing you wrong.

Damian grew confident as you attempted to kiss him more firmly, as steadily as your giddiness allowed you to. Tasting the fruit he had eaten earlier off his tongue, you wrapped your other arm around his torso, bringing him closer.

Smiling on your lips, he angled his face, kissing you with the same urgency he had the other night.

Eagerly, he tangled his tongue with yours until both of you were panting in search of air. As you caught your breath, Damian fiddled with the ends of your turtleneck.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “Can I take this off? It’s getting in the way.”

“I can take it off—“

“I would like to do it, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Damian slid the turtleneck off you slowly, huffing a small laugh when the blouse you were wearing under inched up. Placing the item to the side, he leaned to kiss your jaw.

Placing your hands on his sides, you slanted your head upon feeling his lips travel down to your neck.

He kissed the bite-mark left from before, softly, giving it small pecks. “Did I go overboard with this one?”

“A little bit. It’s been a pain in the ass to cover.”

“I’ll be more careful from now on,” he promised, leaving more light kisses over the area.

Your pulse quickened at the implication of his words. Damian felt the rush of blood on your jugular where he scattered wet kisses.

He trailed his lips up, breathing in your ear. You shuddered, fighting a whine as your hands looked for the hem of his crewneck sweater.

You inched the sweater up to his chest and waited for him to stand straight so you would be able to take it off. Damian was too busy kissing your face to care.

“Hey,” you did whine this time. “Damian, let me take it off.”

Smirking on your cheek, he hummed. Slowly, painfully so, he pulled away from you.

Once you had gotten rid of the sweater, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. He curled his arm around you again, wanting you flush against him.

He slid his hand down and took a handful of your ass, making you buckle your hips up. Dragging his lips to your jaw again, he said, “Your stupid suit didn’t let me do that last time.”

One of your hands stayed on his shoulder while the other landed on his hip. Your fingers played with the loops of his jeans as he continued gripping and grabbing your ass like he had never touched one.

Angling your face, you attached your lips to his neck. Damian’s grip on you tightened.

“I want to take it slow,” he whispered, “but you’re making it really hard.”

“Metaphorically?” You mouthed his throat, hand sliding down to his chest, squeezing itself between both your bodies.

“And literally,” he whined. You loved the sound, for once not demanding yet still bratty.

As your hand slipped downward, you continued kissing his neck, paying special attention to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You hoped your lipstick wouldn’t dirty his shirt — or maybe you hoped it would, both were fine with you.

Damian put some space between you, understanding what you were trying to do. While you undid his jeans, he undid yours, considering it would be better to get rid of everything on his way now that he was still feeling patient.

Shoes and socks off, the two of you shed your jeans without care of where they landed. Now the living room’s floor truly was covered in scattered items of clothing and this time Damian enjoyed the view.

“Come here.” He reached for you, eyes on your chest as his hands ghosted your sides.

You looked up at him, unable to hide the enjoyment you got from his hungry eyes being all over you. Following their movements, you also observed their slow dilatation.

He inched a hand up your side. You assumed he would finally knead your breast but he merely ghosted its outline, head tilted as he watched his own hand move.

For a few moments, he only did that, almost as if he was in a trance. The warmth of your own palm on his lower abdomen as your fingers brushed the elastic of his boxers made him react.

You pushed him back, towards your bedroom, pulling the door open and shoving him inside. He smiled, lifting his arms in mock surrender.

Damian sat down on your bed, relishing into the smell of everything you owned — the bedding smelled like a mix of fabric softener and your delicious new heady perfume.

You got the urge to kiss his entire face, hands on his shoulders as he slanted his head back for you to do it comfortably. He relished on the gesture too, so spontaneous and warming.

He placed his hands on the backs of your thighs, urging you to straddle him. Watching you second guess yourself, he drew you closer to encourage you.

Giving a last kiss to his nose, you complied. Damian snaked his arms around your waist, a pleased smile pressing against your chin before he kissed your mouth.

You bit his lip, tugging on it. He crashed his lips against yours again just to then do the same himself, intentionally bitting harder than you had.

A moan escaped you. Feeling his cock twitch under your navel, you rocked your hips to watch his reaction.

His arms tightened around you as he tutted against your core. “This is the reason why I never train with you,” he groaned.

“I thought it was because I almost broke Tim’s leg once.”

“Don’t mention anyone else right now.”

Right. You had forgotten he had been jealous earlier.

Damian rolled over, switching places with you. He kissed you before you could pout, cradling your face with one hand while he held himself up with the other.

You placed a hand on his upper back while the other rested on the side of his neck, kissing him back with the same amount of passion he was kissing you.

He had you breathless in a matter of seconds, and as he broke the kiss, you saw his nostrils flare in attempts to catch his breath quickly.

Trailing kisses down your neck, he dropped his hand to your breast. This time he kneaded it, humming against your skin when you reacted with a small sound. His thumb brushed your nipple, playing with it while he busied himself with leaving marks on your chest.

So much for being careful, huh. At least those were easier to hide.

“Do you want me to eat you out?” He asked bluntly.

“If you’re in the mood.”

He kneeled on the bed, hooking his thumbs in your panties to slide them down. You lifted your hips to help him out, laughing when he threw your underwear behind him with little care.

You opened your legs for him, finding a comfortable position as he stayed there, taking all of you in, completely naked and at his mercy.

He kissed your thighs first, teasingly nibbling on them. Every time he got closer to the center, to where now you needed him instead of only wanting him, he pulled away and went back to your thigh.

Slowly, he dragged his index finger up and down your folds. Damian rested his chin on your right thigh as he watched his finger collect and smear your wetness, proud of the fact that he was the one who had made you wet. No one else.

Your breath hitched in expectant excitement as you saw him finally bury his head between your thighs. His tongue followed the same path his finger had outlined, at the same rhythm.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he praised, licking his bottom lip clean.

As he gradually increased his rhythm, licking long stripes along your folds, you got bolder and urged him to be firmer by pushing your hips upward.

He moaned against your pussy, playfully sucking your labia to let you know he got the message.

Bringing an arm up to pin your hips back down, he used his other hand to open your legs a little bit more and part your labia.

Damian pressed his tongue on your clit, moving it gently at first. He wanted to know exactly what you liked and how. It didn’t take him long to switch between using his lips and his tongue which earned him a loud moan.

His hand caressed your thigh, eventually sliding between the mattress and your body to grab your asscheek.

You whined his name, reaching down to hold the back of his head. It was clear to you that he was enjoying every sound he managed to make you blurt, and it felt really good, but you needed more.

Out of nowhere, he tugged on your hips to slide you down the bed. Kneeling on the floor, he sucked fervently on your clit.

You fisted the duvet, begging him to keep going. Damian complied happily, mouth latched on your clit as your pussy swallowed his moans and the four walls of your bedroom made yours bounce.

They were music to his ears and his entire body. He could feel the tingling all over him, excitement and pride flowing through his bloodstream.

Massaging your ass, he couldn’t help but chuckle upon feeling both your hands on his head now. He allowed you to push his face farther in, not once slowing down.

Your hips bucked up and instead of restraining you, he moved with you. If you moved up he did down and vice versa. You got louder and he marveled at how responsive you were to him.

He growled, gripping your ass with force as he sucked on your clit until his cheeks were hollow. He let go only to repeat the motion, letting his tongue wander when he needed a break.

You tugged on his hair, squealing. Your body tensed in his grasp, prompting him to continue with his ministrations. Feeling the tremor in your legs as you tried to settle back down on the bed, he started lapping tenderly.

You caressed his hair, panting with your eyes closed. Damian lifted his head, hands softly dancing over your thighs as he stood up.

Feeling him hover over you, you opened your eyes albeit with a little difficulty. His mouth and chin glistened with your slick, wanton eyes inspecting your semblance.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” you rasped before clearing your throat.

He caressed your sweaty cheek. “Later.”

“Bu—“

He shut you up with a kiss. “Later, please? I just want to be inside you.”

Nodding against him, you kissed him again. Tasting yourself off his tongue was addictive. You held him still for a moment, licking your slick off his gorgeous face.

Damian growled, deep and loud this time, hands already on your waist. “Should I wear a condom this time?”

“No. Unless you want to?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want a single thing to keep him from feeling you fully. Damian stood from the bed. “Get on all fours.”

You rolled on your side first to then do as he had told you, holding your breath as you waited for him to stand behind you.

He rested a hand on your hip. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” you gave him your consent.

Damian entered you slowly, little by little, less worried about hurting you and more about making you feel every inch of him as his cock filled you.

You breathed out through a whine. He gave you time to adjust to his size, leaning to kiss the scar on your back.

Wanting to stay like that forever, you waited more than you should have to. If he was aware, he decided to be patient — such thing only made you grow wetter.

“Go ahead,” you told him, hoping you didn’t sound too desperate.

Reaching over, he gripped your hands. “You feel amazing, beloved.” He kissed your shoulder, nibbling on your skin as he rocked his hips.

God, you didn’t know if his comment had been what flattered you or the pet name. Either way, hearing them was as amazing as the way he felt inside you, filling you like no one before him had.

His hands left yours. He opted for placing them firmly on your hips and thrust into you steadily, keeping you from moving too much.

Humming in pleasure, you held the edge of the bed in anticipation. He went faster exponentially, calculating every single one of his thrusts.

Having control over his thrusts and the movement of your hips was nice and all, but he needed you closer.

Slapping your thigh, he croaked out, “On your back.”

You missed his girth the second he parted from you so you could change positions, it made you feel empty.

Damian helped you get comfortable, holding your thighs open before you got the urge to rub them. He smirked when you glared at him, hand leaving one of your legs to hold his cock.

He penetrated you again, bottoming out immediately as he made himself comfortable on top of you.

“Fuck, Damian!”

His hips snapped forward involuntarily. Both of you moaned at the same time, he pushed against your g-spot and you throbbed around him.

His movements were rougher like this, wilder. It was as though he wanted to prove a point to himself, you didn’t know which and you didn’t care as long as he fucked you like he needed to be inside you in order to be complete.

“Say my name again,” he rasped the command.

And how could you deny him? You repeated his name as many times as your moans allowed you like a broken chant.

Damian’s pace got quicker every time he heard his name fall from your lips, a tad uneven as he allowed himself to get lost in the pleasure the mix of everything was bringing him — your walls gripping his cock, your hoarse moans and the angelic way honey dripped from your voice when you called for him.

You dragged your nails all over his back, moaning and whimpering in his ear. He was so loud in your own ear, saying things in Arabic that you couldn’t understand in such a fervent tone that you weren’t sure if you would come because he was fucking you into oblivion or because of his strained voice.

Hearing your name slip in his prayer-like monologue, you cried out upon feeling your stomach get tighter. You clung to his shoulders, letting him ram into you in unsteady thrusts that went from slow to hammering in seconds.

His tongue slipped, Damian started switching between languages. Grip on you tightening to the point of being bruising, he begged, “I need you to come first, please. I— shit.” He dropped his head into the crook of your neck as you wrapped your legs around his hips, clenching around him.

You threw your head back, arching up to meet his latest thrust as your orgasm flew through you. Distantly, you processed a few of the sounds you were making and some of the ones you were elating from him.

Strings of hot cum covered your walls. He growled on your skin, saying your name and something you couldn’t really understand.

You let him ride off his orgasm inside you, hearing the mess he was making as the wet sounds from your slick and his cum mingled. His mouth covered yours in a tired kiss, lazy and with a hint of the tenderness he had put to the side even though his intentions had been different.

Once the two of you had caught your breaths and he had made an even bigger mess, you pulled the bedding off the mattress and threw everything into the washing machine.

He was all over you as the two of you shared a shower, so close that scrubbing off took you way longer than it should have.

In all honesty, you didn’t mind. You were too happy to complain about his annoying little antics that you couldn’t wait to get used to.

”Should we suit up?” You asked him, watching the water drip down his chest like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“They can manage without us for a night.”

“You want to skip patrol?”

Drying his arms, he copied your tone, “You don’t want to spend more time alone with me?”

“Of course I do,” you replied immediately. “But you love patrol.”

He stood still, somewhat stiff in front of you. “Not enough, it seems.”

You dropped the topic at that and went on with drying your body.

He only put his underwear back on while you slipped a pair of panties and a t-shirt, awkwardly trying to find something to change the topic.

“Do you want some ice cream? I have a tub in the freezer.”

“Sounds good.”

A nice moment you shared, silently eating ice cream. He sat close to you the entire time, brushing your side.

It felt natural, as though you were supposed to be doing that and not anything else. Patrol could wait, and his family, and your friends, and the entire world.

The world stopped so you two could enjoy the moment, the day. Or perhaps it didn’t and you just couldn’t bring yourself to give this up for it — but he couldn’t either and that meant everything to you.

Damian never skipped patrol, he hadn’t done it in the worst moments of his life and you never expected to see the day in which he would find something more worthwhile.

You found a clean sheet for the bed in the laundry room which saved you from having to squeeze yourself with Damian on the couch. Maybe it was time to get a bigger one.

He rested his head on your stomach, cheek against your belly as he looked up at you. You could tell he wanted to say something, his brow was ever so slightly furrowed, and his eyes seemed clouded by a thought. He looked pretty nonetheless.

He traced his fingers over your thigh, drawing little doodles. You could make some up by feel — a flower, a bat, his name, a few stars, his name again, an R inside a circle, a heart, his name for the third time.

“I think I would’ve broken my oath to my father if you had had someone over.”

You slid your hand off his hair to caress his cheek, too worried to hide your frown. Damian took his promises and oaths seriously, more seriously than anything else. You had seen his family use said thing against him.

“It wouldn’t have been worth it,” you tried to reason with him. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Would you have gotten mad at me?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It would’ve depended on a lot of things. Without context, obviously, but...” Realizing you were about to make up excuses for something that hadn’t even happened, you decided to ask, “Why are you still thinking about that?”

“I don’t want you to forget about me. Ever.”

“Are you planning to say goodbye or something of sorts?”

“No!” He glared at you for even considering such a thing to be a possibility after everything the two of you had talked about, after everything you had made him feel. ”But I...” Damian scoffed. “I can’t explain to you how horrible it felt. My eyesight clouded the moment Stephanie said it was time for you to start seeing someone.”

“Jealousy does that to us.” You tried to sound wise by saying it, an attempt you found quite pointless as you replayed it in your head.

Silently, he lifted his head off your stomach in order to lay down next to you. Shifting so he would be comfortable, you held your head up with your hand to properly gaze at him.

Damian mirrored your position. He told you, in a hushed tone like it was his deepest secret, “I felt like you were replacing me.”

Stephanie only had said that because it was the truth. Your relationships always fizzled out after the first two months so you had stopped trying. Then there was the fact that Damian himself had sabotaged who knows how many of them...

From her perspective, it made sense.

“Damian...” you trailed off, in vain. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me you won’t.”

“I won’t replace you as long as you don’t replace me.”

You thought he would find the comment insulting even though it was perfectly sound. But for God knows which time that day, Damian surprised you by scoffing with nonchalance.

Dismissing your worry, he slid closer to you, resting his forehead against your flexed arm. “I couldn’t possibly be happy without your perfume all over me.”

Grabbing him by the hair, you forced him to lift his head. His eyes found yours in a second, curious. You dropped your hand to his neck, sliding it up to his cheek.

Giving him the sweetest kiss you had ever given, tracing the side of his gorgeous face tenderly, you hoped you were doing a good job expressing what you wanted to communicate.

You were. He gave you in return the brightest smile you had seen in your entire existence. It was all for you, something you had caused, something you wanted to see for the rest of your life.

Damian pulled you onto his chest, laying on his back. He mindlessly ran his fingers over your side and up and down your back while you listened to his steady heartbeat.

You couldn’t possibly feel complete without him ever again.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x plus size reader #damian wayne smut #damian wayne

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comic-sans-chan · 3 years ago

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After Eddie gets back from his personal emergency vacation, he starts acting like even more of a "fanboy" towards Richie Tozier than before and all his coworkers make fun of him for it behind his back.

It was always known that Eddie was a fan, if you could call ranting periodically about what a shit-dick comedian he is and spreading conspiracy theories about him being a fan, but after Derry, it's obvious he's got a crush. One coworker notices one day that a picture of Richie is his phone background. Another catches him surreptitiously watching videos of Richie on mute during meetings. If you wander past his office at the right time, you can hear him laughing and saying Richie's name and telling the comedian to "shut up", as if he were actually talking to him.

It's tragic. Eddie is married and he's got a big embarrassing gay crush on a celebrity. He's hit his mid-life crisis and he's spacing out and smiling at his phone randomly and he still rants about Richie sometimes but it's different. He talks as if he actually knows the guy. He's cracked. He's probably one of those fans that send creepy letters filled with desperate marriage proposals and offers of sex. He probably tries to catch the guy after shows in back-alleys so he can politely let him know they're meant to be together. He definitely pictures the guy when he's having dry missionary sex with his wife. His coworkers laugh about it, but then Richie Tozier comes out as gay a few months later and everyone in the office in unison thinks, Oh no.

Eddie actually gets a little teary about it and grumbles, "It's about time." It's about time. It was mostly all a big joke before, but it's become clear that Eddie has actually gone insane after that. He mentions his divorce lawyer one day, goes to HR to get his emergency contact changed. He's staying with a friend while he figures out his shit. His wife hysterically calls the front desk sometimes and gossip gets spread around that she said, "It's all that nasty perverted comedian's fault." Josan teasingly comments within earshot of Eddie that Richie actually looks kind of hot in his Vanity Fair photos and Eddie nearly kicks his ass over it.

No one is really quite friends with Eddie, but they have to consider an intervention, don't they? They're not monsters. It's a good thing that Eddie is accepting that he's gay and his wife was a nightmare, but this whole Richie Tozier thing? It's just sad. Eddie really seems to believe he and Richie are in love. They've all been working together for so many years, they can't let him go down like this, can they?

Of course they can, it's too fucking funny to put a stop to, and Eddie kind of deserves it anyway. He's always been a terror in the office. His emails are the scourge of the department. He made Hal cry once (not that that's hard to do, but still). Eddie's going to crash and burn and end up plastered all over a bunch of celebrity news websites after he breaks into Richie's house. It's going to be beautiful, and hey, maybe Eddie will learn a lesson. It'll all end up okay, won't it?

It won't, because Eddie files a transfer to the LA branch. At lunch one day, he offhandedly mentions he's moving in with his boyfriend. It's really happening. It's not just really good office gossip or a meme being passed between the interns. Eddie thinks he's dating Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier. He does all of it. He packs up his office. He moves to LA. Julia, Roberto's cousin at the LA branch, reports that Eddie's been thinking about getting a dog with Rich, his boyfriend. His Instagram that was once dedicated strictly to reviewing good organic, allergy-safe, dairy-and-gluten-free restaurants is now peppered with bowls of cereal in almond milk with descriptions like, "my dumbfuck partner's idea of a good breakfast" and microwave popcorn covered in chocolate syrup with hashtags #thisisloveiguess #fuckmeup and #trashmouth and stories filled with baked curry chicken and stuffed tomatoes captioned "idiot wants me to let everyone know he's actually a good cook, gd he's a bitch but no one else can have him or I'll javelin throw a fencepost at their happy ass."

So it's easily the craziest thing to happen since boring old Jen in IT randomly took up skydiving. They still laugh about it when it comes up, but it's uneasy laughter. It turns out one of the older interns is queer and he's made it his responsibility to snap on people for discussing Eddie, a sheen of mourning in his eyes. Frank, a notorious asshole who doesn't usually engage in any conversation, speaks up to call Eddie a "poor bastard." Hal cries about it (not that that's unusual, but still). Maybe there's still some entertainment value to it, but it's uncomfortable. Eddie's become the low-hanging fruit of the water cooler. Everyone knows about him, but no one brings him up except in sympathetic whispers.

Until Richie Trashmouth Presents: The Losers Club is released on Netflix.

And the entire office explodes.

#reddie #my posts #it #it chapter two #look i want more funny fic about eddie being an obsessive trashmouth stan #it's so good #edited cuz i figured out how to get another funny bit in there #i am happy #fics i'll never write

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peachiimilquetea · 4 years ago

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𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 boyfriend has never been too sexual of a guy... or so he thought

this authors note is gonna be a bit longer so bare with me pls. so this is the very first request im doing! woo! tysm to @m0chilattae for this request it was so good and i had a lot fun fleshing it out! this is also my first scenario so its not gonna be in my usually bulleted format. I hope you guys like it and please let me know if you have any preferences for legibility or anything like that!

length: 2.6k

contains: sub!bf x dom!reader, afab/fem!reader, light b0ndage, edging, teasing, use of baby boy, use of miss/mistress, light degradation (m!receiving), face sitting/ oral (mostly r! receiving), light overstimulation (m! receiving), 69 technically?, vibe play

“wow you didn’t even flinch,” you murmured

you and your boyfriend sat on the couch cuddled up together, the dim light from the tv softly reflected on your faces. this movie almost was unbearably long, but he had insisted you had to see it and so here you were almost an hour later.

“what?”

you pulled your eyes away from the screen to look at your boyfriend.

“this woman is getting some of the best dick of her life on screen and you didn’t even miss a beat,” you giggled.

you weren’t even trying to be funny. the actress on screen let out an exaggerated moan as the man in front of her practically plowed into her, almost to prove your point. the scene wasn’t really your cup of tea but even you were a bit affected, feeling heat prick your skin as you watched the sex scene unfold.

your boyfriend, however, seemed extremely disinterested.

“hey can we skip this scene?” he asked and you grabbed the remote to fast forward.

the rest of the movie went pretty well. your boyfriend made a pretty good choice for this week’s movie night, but you were more focused on what he said earlier.

“babe?”

“hm?”

“so that scene really didn’t make you feel anything? not even a little stomach flutter?”

“nope,” he said popping the p for emphasis, “its just not my thing i guess.”

it wasn’t a secret in your relationship that your boyfriend had a significantly lower sex drive than you did. it was a running joke among his friends and he was almost notorious for not really being too interested in the cultural narrative of traditional sex.

you didn’t hold it against him of course, you loved him all the same and he even got you some toys for the times that he just wasn’t feeling it, but something was always off about his apathy towards getting down and dirty with you. there was, however, one thing you had not tried yet.

you were a switch, but you had never tried to turn the tables on your boyfriend. it could be the missing piece you thought, as you cleaned up the living room. as he took the dishes to the kitchen to wash them you made the executive decision to test your running theory

“you know, i think we should try something later this week,” you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind.

“yeah? something like what?” he turned off the water and sighed, leaning into your touch.

“hmmm its a surprise. but you do have to come up with a safeword for me.”

“ill think about it”

and thus your plan was set into motion.

on the days leading up to the finale of your master plan, you decided to start small with the teasing. you had never attempted to turn the tables on your boyfriend and you were extremely curious as to how things would go.

you had asked him to go out and pick up some things for dinner.

“im home!” he called and you directed him to the kitchen with his bags.

“i was just about to start cutting up veggies, so perfect timing babe. did you get the salmon i asked for?”

“yup! i got the last fillet.”

“good boy! you’re so helpful baby i was afraid there wouldn’t be any left”

your boyfriend paused mid-action as he processed what you had just said to him. he didn’t notice the way you were subtly taking note of how his face heated up slightly and how he began to fumble over his words just a little.

the pet name made his stomach do flips, but why was that? did he like that? he didn’t even know himself, but he pushed it down and continued to help you unpack the groceries and set up for your meal.

the second time you teased him was when he was doing some work for school. he had managed to give himself a huge papercut and came out of his room to find you for help.

“what the hell happened?” you gasped as you saw the state of his finger. he would live but you had no idea how he managed to do this with one sheet of paper.

“s’just a papercut but it stings like crazy. do you have a bandaid?”

you hurried to get him fixed up so he could get right back to work,

“you have to be more careful, baby boy, you only get 10 fingers,” you smiled at him, knowing your words would have an effect on him again.

he sputtered, whatever he was going to say becoming a jumbled mess in his mouth at the casual way you called him baby boy. it was so natural for you, and it sounded so so good to his ears.

“what?” he croaked out, desperately hoping you would repeat yourself.

“are you feeling ok? you’re looking a bit flushed, babe. i just said you need to be more careful, how much blood did you lose?”

“n-not too much,” he ran a hand through his hair to subtly calm himself down, “it was just a paper cut.”

“well ok, if you need anything else you know where to find me.”

the smile in your voice was a new kind of torture to him. he didn’t even know he could feel so hot all the time, let alone from words alone.

you, on the other hand, were growing more and more excited as the days passed. the build-up would make the end of the week that much sweeter and you were determined to make it good for him.

the end of the week couldn’t come fast enough for the two of you. your boyfriend had never been this horny in your life and you had never been so ready to help him out.

as you gently adjusted the restraints around his wrists he felt all sorts of anticipation bubbling in his stomach. he didn’t know what you had planned but he was almost itching to find out. so much for not being too interested.

“do you remember the safe word?” you asked, tugging the chain to check its security to the bed.

“yes,” he breathed.

“good.”

you left the room to collect yourself and to give yourself the element of surprise. you had to make this a performance, and a damn good one at that.

giving yourself one last look over in the mirror, you stepped back into the room and put on your dominant demeanor. it felt good to be back after such a long time.

“you know,” you started, circling your boyfriend on the bed, “i almost feel silly for not picking up on this sooner.”

your boyfriend said nothing verbally, but his eyes followed you like a starved animal, mind holding onto every word you said for dear life. his mouth was so dry and he was so turned on.

“its funny really, i never did anything because i didn’t want to scare you. isn’t that ironic, baby?” you mused out loud, “the one thing you wanted all along has been here the whole time.”

he finally found his voice, asking, “and what’s that?”

you came closer to him, hooking your leg around his other side and sitting on top of him. you teasingly rubbed your hands all over his chest and stomach, reveling in how he squirmed for you made such small and cute sounds.

“you wanted someone to take control.”

he screwed his eyes shut and let out a low “fuck” at your words as you rubbed over his nipples lightly. he stared at your tits, desperately wanting to grope you back but being stopped by his restraints.

he bucked in surprise when you pinched them, letting out a loud gasp and throwing his head to the side.

“awww, my baby boy is so sensitive,” you crooned and you swore you watched him die and go to heaven when you called him that.

“you like it when i call you a good boy?”

he groaned, nodding his head feverishly. you caressed his face and kissed him on the forehead, getting off his lap and getting out your box of toys from underneath the bed. it was time to really make him see stars

“as glad as i am that we’ve gotten to the root of your issue, you still need to be punished for not being truthful with me.”

“but _____ i didnt-”

“who?” you asked, voice turning icy in a split second, “you call me miss or mistress. do you understand?”

“yes miss,” he shivered.

“now, are you going to behave?” you asked, vibrator in hand.

he eyed the toy down but still nodded. you motioned for him to lift his hips up and got his pants off, leaving him in just his underwear strapped to your shared bed.

it was a sight you never thought you were going to see, so you savored it, drinking in his naked and flushed form, and really enjoying how antsy he got under your gaze. it was truly intoxicating.

“you always told me your sex drive was low, and yet here you are, practically keening at the thought of me using you like the toy you are. do you want me to touch you?”

he began to nod but you grabbed his jaw, making him look you in the eye, “use your words like a good boy.”

“yes mistress, i want you to touch me so bad”

“where do you want me to touch you?”

“o-on my c-chest and stomach. a-and on my… you know,” he mumbled shyly towards the end.

“you have to say it, baby boy,” you grinned pinching and twisting his nipples again. he cried out in surprise and pleasure.

“my cock! i want you to touch my cock! please miss!”

you smiled as he started to crack and looked down at where his dick strained in his underwear. his cock head was practically dripping, leaving him with a dark patch right on the front of his underwear. you hadn’t even properly touched him yet and he was almost cumming in his pants.

you pulled his briefs down, enjoying the view of his cock bouncing back up and hitting his lower stomach. grabbing it with some force, you started to stroke him, thumbing his slit to spread his precum around and use it like lube.

“we’ll have you get you a cock ring soon because this won’t do,” you said, making a fist for him to buck up into.

he was moaning pretty loud now, the loudest you’d ever heard him outside of receiving head. there was a familiar but searing heat blooming in your stomach but you pushed it down. right now the focus was on him.

turning on the vibrator, you concentrated it to the underside of his head. he let out a yelp, then a hiss and a whine as he felt the waves of pleasure crash over him.

“t-this- its too much! s’too much!”

you let it continue for a few seconds before turning the vibrator off and moving away from him.

you watched as your boyfriend fought against his restraints, bucking into the empty air for even a semblance of friction.

“i was on the edge! w-why did you stop?”

“you thought mistress was going to let you cum that easily? you’re working for this baby,” you stepped back up to him and grabbed his cock again, turning the vibrator to a higher setting than before.

back and forth you went edging the boy on the bed. as you teased him more and more, he became more restless, thrashing around more and really letting himself feel every stroke, change of pace, and new vibration.

after a while, you couldn’t take the pangs of white-hot need shooting through your abdomen so you decided to put him to good use. you turned the vibe off, leaving the poor boy at the edge and climbed back on top of him, scooting yourself over to where his face was.

his eyes widened as he looked up at you, realizing what you had planned for him in real time.

“do you think you can handle me sitting on your face?”

he audibly groaned, “yes mistress. i would love- mmmph!”

you cut him off by lowering yourself down on him, relishing in the relief of his tongue on your cunt. he moved in long and languid strokes at first, almost teasing, but then began to really eat as if his life depended on it, sucking on your cl!t and fucking you with his tongue.

you could feel your legs shaking as he went to town. you grabbed the headboard and unconsciously began to grind against his face, giving him little pockets of air now and then. you then got an amazing idea.

you completely dismounted off his face and turned around so you were facing his cock. he was still tied up very well, and he bucked his hips up at the view of your ass right in his face.

he lifted his head to take a bite out of it and you slapped his thigh, chuckling at how eager he was. he had earned the right to be a little bit playful at least.

“do you want me to make you cum? you’ve been a good boy so i think you’ve earned it.”

“yes yes! i wan- i want it more than anything- i-”

“but,” you grabbed his cock, “ you have to make me cum first.”

“i-i can do that,” he moaned and you lowered yourself onto him and let him take over. it felt so good you almost forgot that his cock was right there.

you pressed a few light kisses to the head and almost immediately came his muffled moans from being deep in your pussy. you were so close you just needed a little but more.

he sucked on you with vigor, finally tipping you over the edge with a harsh suck to your clit. you cried out and braced yourself on his thighs, riding out your orgasm all over his face. he groaned as he tried to keep up with you, licking up everything that gushed out with vigor and you spasmed in slight overstimulation as he cleaned you up.

“you’re such a good boy,” you sighed.

you flipped around once again, catching him in a searing kiss before sinking down on his cock without warning. you swallowed a garbled moan of his as you continued to kiss him and leave marks on his neck and chest, riding him slowly.

“miss, im not gonna last long at all,” he whimpered and you ran a hand through his hair to push it out of his face as you looked at him.

“that’s ok, baby boy. just let go”

two more strokes and he was cumming in you with a loud groan. his heavy breathing fanned your face as you continued past the threshold of pleasure he was prepared for.

“m-miss- i-ah! i finished- finished!” he babbled as you rode him into an overstimulated frenzy

“hurts-it hurts! please mistress no more!”

you finally slowed to a stop and let him just calm down inside you. after unsheathing him and taking off his restraints, you laid in your bed together in comfortable silence.

“what was that?” he asked and the both of you dissolved into post-coitus giggling.

“well i’ve always been a domme, but i never thought you would be into that kinda thing. you never seemed like you were into any kind of thing.”

“that is true. i just didn’t know i was into… that”

he sighed as you played with his hair, “well now that we know, we can do more. a lot more.”

he looked up at you with a lazy smile, “most definitely”

𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @kixa

#[🍑]peachiiwrites #[🍦]#[🍑]peachiimilquetea #peachiileafrequests #dom!reader #sub!bf #scenario #oneshot #request #overstimulation

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angorwhosebabyisthis · 2 years ago

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i think probably the core issue of lorien legacies, beyond anything to do with individual characters, is the mixed metaphors.

more specifically, about politics.

[longpost after the cut; a lot of talk about racism, xenophobia, fascism--including ecofascism--genocide, and all of the above being poorly handled. also some deeply upsetting anti-indigenous awfulness wrt the w-word.]

the writers try to make the series Heavy-Hitting and Deep and Socially Conscious by addressing real-world political issues like racism, fascism, religious fundamentalism, dictatorship, colonialism, genocide, and so on... and instead of trying to build it into a coherent dynamic with any kind of real statement about any of it, they just blindly grab at every political issue they can find and slap it together into a jumbled mess.

they don't actually understand any of the things they're talking about. and the most disturbing part is that they don't even limit themselves to drawing on bad neoliberal takes, and/or captain-obvious shit like 'genocide bad.' they ALSO draw on the politics of fascists and racists--sometimes unironically, sometimes putting it in the mouths of random protagonists without reason after establishing that it's supposed to be a bad thing, sometimes doing shit that strawmans itself into confirming the Bad Guy Fascism and what have you--and often they mix those metaphors in ways that are anywhere from bizarre to horrific.

('ya so the great replacement theory was completely right actually! the people you're genociding a hundred percent have dedicated their entire life, purpose, and remaining culture to exterminating yours. it doesn't matter if their survivors are down to the single digits, if you fail to kill even a single one of them they WILL successfully wipe you out. they will literally have your last few survivors rounded up and put into prison camps. three cheers for them!' jesus fucking christ.)

(don't get me started on shit like tossing blatant racist caricatures of north korea and its political issues into the mogadorians at some point, because why the fuck not, and then piling on the anti-japanese racism with a dump truck at the end of the first series and throughout the second. internment camps.)

(jesus fucking christ.)

and like. people don't react to this shit the way they realistically would. you cannot tell me that not a single one of the majority-POC cast in the second series would not rip a black hole into nine's irl-racist and scifi-MAGA, white-man-in-a-position-of-authority ass, or the shit that john's white-man-in-a-position-of-authority ass brings about himself under the guise of ~kindness and peace.~

and there's no logic to the kind of shit people will say and do about this stuff, especially in the sequel series. sometimes they'll express, like, basic antifascist/anti-racist/humanitarian/decent-in-general beliefs, and other times the most absolutely wild shit will come out of their mouths which either directly contradicts things they've said before--and might say after--or pulls from other blatant parts of that same horrific ideology. there is no rhyme or reason to most of it. it's just a clown car of racist/fascist/xenophobic nonsequiturs. what the hell.

and when i say nine is irl-racist in reborn i mean he casually calls a native american child the w-word as a '''lighthearted''' punny joke about his legacy. the kid is not even from any tribe whose culture they originate from; they never specify, because of course they couldn't be bothered lol, but miki is from alaska. on top of that, they had the dick ass and balls to have him randomly throw in a Very Special Episode scene where he talks about how his family are the direct-action variety of activists who he got separated from when they blew up an oil pipeline.

and he does not fucking blink at this. he doesn't say anything about it, he doesn't uncomfortably not say anything about it, he just goes on with the friendly conversation about his legacies which nine just called him a w-word for without missing a single beat.

and the ecofascism. good unholy fucking god the ecofascism. probably the most fundamental driving force of the entire first series is that if you don't ~take care of your environment~ your entire race/ethnicity/culture deserve to suffer and die slowly in the results. yes, all of them. it doesn't matter who was responsible. every last one. including the masses we see protesting on mogadore in flashbacks/visions.

also did i mention the Great Fascist Cult Leader who is responsible for the loric's genocide is a race traitor who took charge of wiping out his own? because that is a thing. it's a thing.

like. man i could go on. i could go on. and in other posts i probably will, because WOW is there a lot to unpack here. but it really does all come down to the fact that the writers wanted to sound meaningful and important and socially conscious, because that's what seems to be hip with the youth nowadays, and they don't have anything to say.

it's just gibberish. gibberish that arranges in some very telling ways as to the beliefs of their own that they are putting into the books. but gibberish.

and it pisses me off in a different way to have realized this, but god damn does it make it less tear-my-hair-out distressing than racking my brain trying to figure out what in the goddamn fuck am i looking at here.

(capitalism. capitalism is what i'm looking at here. and also racism, antisemitism, xenophobia, and just plain being fuckin stupid.)

lord.

#lorien legacies #the crit files #LL tag #LL crit tag #stares at the ceiling this series is so much #all of this is not even scraping the surface #the literal climax of the entire series is a japanese girl protagonist sacrificing herself by absorbing a nuclear bomb #with extremely graphic radiation victim imagery #takes two ibuprofen and holds a glass of ice water to my temple #racism cw #genocide cw #fascism cw #xenophobia cw #w-word cw #i am doubtless forgetting tags and will try to add them later if so #this shit is exhausting; both emotionally and because Writing Longposts #it says something here that the character analysis would be a welcome break #that does remind me i need to draft up and post some headcanons i came up with to move away from the gross NK shit with the mogs #and draw on the weird sxual/romantic overtones wrt god and jesus in evangelical christianity lmao #i am invested in writing about stuff to do with five; the mogs; and setrákus ra #and the thought of unironically using the term 'beloved leader' in my writing makes me taste copper in my mouth lmao

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yoonjinkooked · 3 years ago

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Chemistry | JHS (6 (pt 1))

Part 6 - Just Do It

(pls ignore my old URL, i’m too lazy to change it now RIP)

DRABBLE SERIES, TONS OF SHORT LITTLE CHAPTERS.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: FWB, university AU, smut

Warnings: blonde Hobi (yes, that’s a dang warning), heaps of dirty talk, public groping, lots of sex discussion, them being responsible adults and getting tested before doing it, cursing, drinking. It ends on a bit of a cliff hanger cause this is just an intro of the smut fest that the next chapter will be Also, IMPORTANT: the ‘Spring Cleaning’ party that I am describing is fictional (that I know of at least) and I BEG OF YOU, please don’t mix your drinks. Just don’t. It won’t end well. Don’t mix drinks, don’t drink and drive, don’t drink what a random person gives you and never ever ever leave sight of your glass. Please. Drink responsibly and stay the f away from it if you are underaged. That also means you need to stay the f away from this story, too 💜

Word Count: 3k

Summary: After a few years of being immune to Jung Hoseok’s charms, you suddenly fall into them, head first. All it takes is one night, too much alcohol and a lot of balls.

A/N: Again, DRINK RESPONSIBLY! The smut fest part 2 is coming super fast (no pun intended). Unedited, so please forgive me, I needed to get this shit out to you and i just need more Hobi. these are drabbles after all lol

“I’m clean,” Hoseok informs you with the widest grin possible. “Got the results emailed this morning. 100% clean and ready.”

You don’t register his words at all - first of all, he had startled you, appearing directly in front of your path, probably seeing you from afar, making your way to the study hall where the first class of your day takes place. And on top of that, you are way too shocked with his appearance to even bother understanding the words he was telling you.

“You’re… you’re blonde,” you mumble as you stare at his hair, wondering if it’s your mind playing tricks on you. Sunlight makes hair lighter, doesn’t it? It doesn’t make it almost platinum, though. Looking him over, you realize that nothing else has changed - still the same height, still the same weight, still his signature casual but colorful clothing - but the blonde is there and it’s magnetic - it’s impossible to look at anything else before your eyes are glued to his new hairstyle again. It suits him so damn well. If someone had told you he’d look this good blonde, you wouldn’t have believed them.

“Oh, yeah,” he waves his hand off, laughing, as if it’s a completely irrelevant thing. Honestly, to him it might be, but not to you. “More importantly, I am clean,” he repeats his earlier words and this time around, you do get to properly register them, as well as the meaning behind them. Clean. Safe to have sex. No worries in that department. You should be overjoyed but not only are you still hypnotized by his sudden change of looks, you’re also refusing to focus on that particular information.

It’s weird - you did stuff, discussed even more, agreed on everything. You blushing at him informing you that it’s finally safe for him to fuck you and finish inside you is weird.

“You’re blonde,” is all you can say, and it earns you an eye roll from Hoseok.

“Oh come on Y/N,” he whines. “If you’re going to be like this just take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Hey!” you snap, smacking him on the shoulder in retaliation, which only makes him laugh. “Have mercy on me here, give me a moment to get used to this new look of yours. If I showed up with a completely different hair color, would you be able to focus on anything else?” you demand, absolutely positive that he’d be equally as lost as you are.

“If you telling me that you’re clean and we can finally fuck, yeah, I wouldn’t be focusing on hair, even if it had all the colors of the rainbow in it,” he answers honestly.

“Okay, okay, we get it, we’re on the same page - you’re stupidly hot, clean and want to fuck,” you laugh at him, although you would be a fool to deny that it’s getting to you - the way he is so upfront about liking you and being attracted to you is impossible to ignore - it makes you feel a lot more confident than you have felt in a long while.

“Oh Y/N, you know me so well,” he acts as if he’s genuinely touched and it’s this reaction that makes you melt and laugh. No matter the hair color, no matter how casual he references his intention to get his dick inside you, it’s Hoseok. And that’s all that matters. “Seriously though, we both have our results so whenever you’re ready, if you’re still up for it…” he doesn’t finish the sentence but the raise of his eyebrow says it all.

“I’m not missing out on that piece of ass if that’s what concerns you,” you joke, looking him up and down as you speak. It’ll never cease to amaze you how he can whisper the dirtiest things to you, or even say them casually out loud, but turn as red as a tomato when you do the same thing. “What are you doing tonight, do you have any plans?” you ask.

“Aren’t you going to Namjoon’s?” he frowns in confusion. “Spring Cleaning party season?” he reminds you and starts laughing immediately, probably at your look of realization mixed in with disgust. “Is this about Namjoon or about the Spring Cleaning party season?” he laughs.

What you guys refer to as spring cleaning is exactly what it sounds like - all the leftover alcohol that somehow managed to survive the past year is gathered in one place in the ‘bring-your-own-booze’ manner. It’s usually a mixture of hideous drinks and half empty bottles and once it’s all gathered, you make it even worse, combining it into borderline poisonous mixtures. Everyone attending and everyone drinking does so on their own responsibility, fully aware of how the night might end.

A year ago, it was still fun. Now, you know you’re too old for that shit.

“It’s about both,” you answer Hobi’s question in a whine. “I don’t wanna deal with wasted frat boys who’ll spend half the night throwing up and Namjoon is insufferable.”

“Namjoon is one of your best friends,” Hobi laughs.

“I know - that’s why I’m well aware of how insufferable he is,” you grunt in annoyance. “I know it’s tradition and all but can we skip all of that? Coochie in exchange for avoiding a party we’re too old for anyways?” you suggest.

“Wait,” Hoseok’s eyes widen and you can imagine a lightbulb turning on above his head. “You think Namjoon’s insufferable?”

“Incredibly so, yes.”

“And you want to make his life a living hell in retaliation?” he continues asking.

“Absolutely,” you reply in a heartbeat, despite loving Namjoon like he was your family. You adore him but you cannot stand him at times and ever since this little thing with Hoseok had started, he had not stopped teasing you. It’s time for him to suffer.

“Hear me out,” Hoseok moves closer to you, as if he is about to share a conspiracy theory that no one except you is allowed to know about. “How about we go to the party and stay there a bit - laugh at the idiots, dance to bad music - just a regular Thursday. And then, when the shitshow starts, and it will start, we go upstairs and seal the deal?”

“You want us to fuck in Namjoon’s house?” you start laughing.

“Is there anything that would annoy and traumatize him more than knowing two of his closest friends fucked in his house?” he points out.

“Yeah, if he walks in,” you burst out laughing. “Honestly, sold. Fuck it.”

“I plan to,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you in the most sleazy manner possible - jokingly, of course. He knows he has you hooked and he can play around with it. And you’ll love it.

“Ugh, stop doing that,” you laugh, smacking him on the shoulder again. “Don't try too hard, you already have me, blondie.”

“I look that good, huh?” he laughs, hitting the bullseye.

You don’t answer that question - you offer him nothing more than a smile and a shrug before you slowly walk past him and make your way to a class you’re probably already late for. He knows you enough to realize that to you, yes, he does look that good. And you cannot wait to find out what other things he can do to you, hoping that the movie is as promising as the trailer was.

Standing across the room, Hoseok keeps his eyes glued to you, the same way he did from the moment you entered the house. You aren’t hiding from it either - you make direct eye contact with him, smiling in a knowing manner as you listen to whatever it is that Taehyung was yapping on about. You tried to listen - you really did, at first. But the problem is that Hoseok’s very presence demands your attention - it’s something you can’t control. If he’s around, if he’s in the room and if you have this feeling of the two of you alone knowing something, knowing this secret about what’s going to happen tonight - no one else stands a chance, not even your friends.

“Are you seriously ogling Hoseok while I’m asking you for relationship advice?” Taehyung sounds exasperated and you feel guilty - even more so when you realize that the only reason he did manage to get your attention was because he had mentioned his name.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry Tae,” you don’t try to defend yourself, knowing you’re guilty as charged. “My mind is a mess, I’m a useless friend. I just… can’t focus on anything else,” you admit sheepishly, not really wanting to go into details. They know that something is happening and that’s it. You don’t want to share more, neither does Hoseok, nor do you think any of your friends is particularly thirsty for details. Except perhaps Jimin, but tough luck for him.

“Then go!” Tae urges you and for a moment, you think that he is angry at you - the urgency with which he said it makes you wonder if he’s pissed with you for not listening to him carefully - but when you look up at him, you see his signature smile. He’s not angry - he’s cheering you on. “Go and get your guy!”

You want to sigh, roll your eyes and remind him that Hoseok is not your guy - but in a weird, fucked up way that only you and him understand, he kind of is. It’s you he’s looking at - not any other girl, and there are plenty. It’s you he’s had his eyes on ever since he first saw you - it’s you he’s waiting for.

So you go for it - the same way you did the night it all started. Without thinking twice about it, you approach him, walking through a crowd of people to get to him - his eyes follow you every step of the way, standing straighter as you finally get to him, mere inches separating the two of you.

It’s electric. The feeling between the two of you, it’s purely electric, making you wonder if he’d burn to the touch if you were to reach out. In your mind, he always was the epitome of the Sun, so it wouldn’t be no surprise. You notice his smile despite not breaking eye contact - he smiles at you with them too, the signature wrinkles appearing on the edges.

“Well, don’t you look lovely tonight,” he tells you, giving you a quick once over. “Black has always suited you.”

“Now’s the time when I say something quirky yet charming like, ‘it matches my soul’,” you joke, laughing along with him. “Thank you - I had to dress in my finest, seeing as it’s a special occasion after all.”

“Is it?” he laughs. “I thought it was just a Spring Cleaning party.”

“Hoseok…” you shoot him a warning glare.

“I’m just messing with you,” he laughs, pointing out the obvious. “Can I… kiss you?”

This question takes you by surprise - you have decided to be public with whatever the hell this thing is - simply to avoid confusion, especially since you’ve agreed that you won’t be sleeping with other people while this deal of yours is standing. It’s a nice surprise, though - the fact that he still wants to ask, the fact that he is making sure that you are comfortable with it - whether it’s with the kiss itself or it being in public. It warms your heart to know that even though you had never planned any of this with him, he ended up being the right choice.

“Hobi, honestly, we’re past the point where you need to ask,” you admit, wanting him to know that you’re not going to back out and that you do feel comfortable.

He says nothing, instead deciding to kiss you immediately. It’s slow and gentle, lazy and languid, in a way that shows no rush or urgency. It’s obvious that he is enjoying it, and so are you, every move of his tongue against yours, every breath of yours that mingles with his. To the two of you, the rest of the room no longer exists - the sounds toned out, the people long forgotten. It’s almost as if it’s you and you alone - and the rest of the world doesn’t matter. You move your body closer to his, anchoring your hands around his neck as you press against his front - as you have found out, making out with Hoseok has plenty of merits, and one of the bigger ones is simply the feel of his body against yours.

His hands wander, slowly and likely aware of the audience around you - it’s highly unlikely that anyone spared you more than a glance, but despite what it feels like in your mind, you are definitely not alone. So when his fingers graze your ass, he doesn’t grab it firmly like you know he’d like to - he simply rests his hand there, with pressure that promises that there’s more in his mind than a simple touch. You know very well that if the two of you don’t slow down soon, he’ll pop a boner in the middle of Namjoon’s kitchen and even though you’re hardly keeping this a secret, that would likely be a bit too much for him to handle.

With your mind heading in that direction, you begrudgingly stop the kiss, but you don’t move too far away from him - your hands still around his neck and his hands still on your ass. For what seems like minutes, neither of you says a word, simply looking at each other, your eyes scanning the face of the other - the way his lips are wet and how he nervously licks at them, the way his cheeks also changed shades (and you know alcohol is not to blame for it) and the glint in his eye that likely mirrors yours, with both of you knowing what’s in the other one’s head. Tonight is the night, the night you will finally seal the deal.

And if all goes well, start something that will make you explore things and areas you dared not speak of, much less try them before. All of it, from the sweetest and most romantic to the nastiest, kinkiest shit imaginable - you want to do it all with him and it’ll start tonight.

“So...” You start, in what you hope is a sexy voice. “Are we going to go and piss Joon off by fucking in his house?” you ask, making sure that the sexy voice you’re trying to use is also low enough for no one else but him to hear. You take it a step further, pressing your lips to his ear, whispering. “I want to suck you off before I ride you until I can no longer hold myself up. Then, I want you to fuck into me with all that strength you have and fill me up, watch the cum drip out of me and then watch me finger it back inside my cunt.”

Pulling away just in time to see him swallow a lump, you move one of your hands from around his neck, down his chest and stomach, very slowly, before grazing it over his already noticeable growing dick - you don’t tease him more than that, knowing that even though you might not feel them, you likely do have eyes on you by now - you simple careers the area where his jeans are starting to stand out, a sign of his eagerness that completely mirrors the way your underwear is sticking to your core. Both of you are horny as all hell and if you don’t act on it soon, you’ll jump his bones right here, right now, on Joon’s kitchen sink.

“How ‘bout I use my fingers to push the cum back inside you and when it dribbles out again, I eat you out until you want to scream my name but you can’t, ‘cause you’re sucking on my fingers, licking every drip of cum left on them?” he suggests and you for a second, you think your knees are going to give out and you’ll fall flat. You don’t, likely because he still has his hands pressed to your backside.

“Oh, I’d want nothing more,” you shamelessly admit.

“Then we’re not doing it here,” he announces, laughing at the immediate sulky reaction it elicited from you. “Don’t be like that, it’s better if we go to my place,” he chuckles at you, gently squeezing your butt. “I want us to enjoy the night, go for as many rounds as our bodies can take and then do it again in the morning. We can’t have that here while some freshman is doing a keg stand and anyone can walk in on us at any second. We can piss Joon off later - but it’s the first time we’re gonna do it and damn it, I wanna do it right.”

“You wanna do it right?” your eyebrows rise.

“I could stand here all night and list all the things that I want to do to you, and you to me, and still remember more on the way home - and we’ve already discussed a bunch. I want to treat you good and give you the best fuck of your life - I promised as much and I want to deliver. We can fuck in Joon’s house any other day, honestly.”

“Do you want to… use something tonight?” you ask, pressing your hand against his crotch a little bit harder this time. “I have some toys back at my place but we won’t be alone there.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head immediately. “I have my cock, mouth and fingers - I don’t need much else to make you want to never do anyone else. We’ll have plenty of time for all the toys - and when I say all, I mean all. I’d go for anything with you.”

“If you keep talking like that, I’m just going to cum right here, right now,” you admit.

“While that would be a sight for sore eyes, I have other plans. Let’s go,” he takes you by the hand and away you go, making your way through the crowd, not caring if anyone notices how quickly you’re leaving or how you’re walking hand in hand.

You simply don’t give a shit, at all. All you care about is Hoseok right now - his dick, mouth and fingers and all the things he plans to do with them.

#hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts smut #hoseok fanfic #hoseok series #bts fanfic #bts series #thebtswritersclub #bangtanarmynet

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ink-flavored · 3 years ago

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Two people asked for this one and it’s kind of involved, so I’m gonna kill two birds with one stone (sorry, rest in peace :pray hands:)

POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective

Full disclosure: this POV shift is a joke. Half a joke. It started out as a joke but I’m making it real. Feel free to place this in-between pretty much any of the AOA chapters thus far.

Yugi... actually could not believe this.

While he may not have been working at South Regency for very long, he’d been working retail since he could legally hold down a job. He’d witnessed, been subject to, and stared in awe at the audacity of some of the dumbest, rudest, most inconsiderate people on the face of the planet. Yugi had stared into the abyss, and the abyss wanted a discount. But nothing, in all that time, had come quite as close as this. He sat in the breakroom, planning to spend all his precious fifteen minutes staring at the far wall in an attempt to process what just happened—what kept happening. Yugi knew persistence, but brazenly asking for dick on the job, in public, was something else. Atem knew what he was about, Yugi would give that to him. It would have been impressive if it weren’t so tiredly predictable. Domino City was gayer than the country club’s presence would have one believe. Yugi had been hit on at work before, he’d been asked out in a variety of uncomfortable ways, and he’d grown numb to it. Atem’s methods, on the other hand, were so audacious that they went full circle and became boring again. Clearly, he expected it to work. Yugi wasn’t going to cave that easily. So around and around they went. “This is ground control to Yug’,” Joey said as he entered, covering his mouth for a static-y microphone effect. “What’s the situation?” “Guess who’s still at it,” Yugi replied. Joey sat next to him. “Again?” “Oh, yeah, Again.” “What happened this time?” No additional prompting necessary, Yugi rattled off the latest chapter of Atem’s pursuit of him. Every time he said it out loud, it sounded more insane than he remembered. “It‘s ridiculous!” he asserted, for what had to be the third time. “It happens practically every day, without fail, and I’m at my wits end. I can’t believe I have to fuck this guy.” Joey almost replied, stopped, and blinked a few times. “You don’t... have to—“ “No, I’m going to.” “But... why?” Yugi could only shrug. “I appreciate stubbornness. He’s not bad looking. I do want to see if there’s more to him, though.” “Not to burst a bubble, but there probably isn’t.” “What do you mean?” “His family’s been coming here every summer since the dawn of time, and every year he’s... I don’t know, he’s got an attitude problem? Couldn’t tell you why. My theory is he’s an asshole.” Yugi considered this. Joey had been working here for years, and had a better lay of the land on most of the regulars than he did. Something about that assessment didn’t stick, though. “I still want to see,” Yugi said. “Maybe he can be nice when he wants to.” “That’s just means he’s choosing to be an asshole.” “He’s friends with Tristan, you know.” Joey’s mouth fell open. “What? No way.” Yugi spread his hands. “My point exactly. Tristan can sniff out a truly rancid douche a mile away.” “Hmm.” Joey sat back, now also squinting at the far wall. “I still don’t like it.” Yugi shrugged again. He wasn’t sure if it was a completely good idea, but there was something compelling about Atem. There had to be, if Yugi hadn’t gotten sick of his antics yet. Maybe he was overly optimistic, but it felt too naïve to take the suave, foreign, rich douche persona at face value. It was too much of a stereotype to be a real personality. “Gotta get back to it,” Joey announced, pushing to his feet. “Me too,” Yugi said, standing up. His break hadn’t felt like much of a break, but then again, nothing ever seemed to.

I have no excuse. Very apt.

[No Excuses writing ask game]

#annika talks #answered #mystery flavor #ask game #AOA #original fiction #fan fiction #long post

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anyoneseenadam · 4 years ago

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Home: Chapter Seven

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing,

word count: 3.9k

a/n: I’m entirely writing this to distract myself from the real world but honesty I’m having a great time, I think there will be one more chapter after this one and maybe an epilogue but asides from that, also feel free to message or ask if you want to be tagged :)) anyway enjoy and pls comment and shiz :)

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Azriel had once joked that you were like an actual flower, needing water and sunlight to use your powers. At the time you had laughed but now as you stood in front of the mirror, wiping the tears from under your eyes, and preparing to walk into the world of all things dead, you understood. The dress you wore was one of the few fancy ones you reserved for the dinners you were often dragged to before your fall. It was lavender, with tulle cascading down your legs from the waist, paired with a tight corset top and tulle off-the-shoulder sleeves. As you sat with a ‘humph’ and started applying your makeup, your stepbrother walked in.

“Well you look cheery,” Nico said, sitting on your bed.

“I look like an evil power puff girl,”

“You look like you are a princess, which you are so my dad is going to be pleased.”

“I really don’t care what he thinks,” you snapped, and Nico help up his hands. He was wearing all black as usual, simple dress pants and a loose black shirt tucked in, his belt matched his rings, and his dark hair and even darker eye bags made him look every bit the Underworld prince. “Sorry, I’m not mad at you,” you said turning back around to carry on with your makeup.

“I know, it’s stressful for you,” he moved to sit next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and you applied eyeliner.

“I don’t wanna get sick again, I have things to do. Plus I’ve got to convince your dad to let me ask for this favour. I just feel like it’s all going to go to shit.”

“I get it, you’ll be fine though. Also I’m pretty sure your mum is going to do anything for you if it means you’ll speak to her again, so she’ll be on your side at least. That’s three vs one.” He nudged you as you put down the eyeliner.

“That’s true.” You bit the inside of your lip and Nico, sensing your worry, changed topic.

“Tell me about Azriel,” He said, and you caught his eye in the mirror.

“Huh?”

“Well I gotta make sure that when you become his problem it will be permanent, I don’t want you coming back,” he joked.

“Fuck you,” you laughed shoving his shoulder and he giggled, rolling onto his back.

“I don’t want to do thisssss,” Nico said in a sing-song voice lying flat on the floor.

“Me neither but I’m not going in alone bitch,” you laughed, starting to feel slightly better. It was moments like this that made you regret pushing your friends away, the thought of seeing them was always scary but when you were with your brother again you remembered why you loved them so much. You assessed your outfit in the mirror and sighed.

“What?” Nico asked, sitting back up.

“This would look really nice with a dark red lip,” you said, biting your lip.

“Do you have one?” he asked, and you nodded. He was quiet for a second before reaching out and ruffling through your makeup, finding your favourite red lipstick. “Do you wanna try?”

“Yeah, but if I cry it’ll mess up my eyeliner.” You said with a shaky laugh. He laughed quietly handing you the lipstick and you looked at him in the mirror, taking in a shuddering breath. You were stronger than this and you could handle it. You closed your eyes for a minute, counting your breaths, before opening the lipstick.

Once it was applied you lifted your chin, staring down the girl in the mirror. Nico grabbed your hand softly and you tore your eyes away, standing and pulling on your shoes.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Azriel was in a shit mood. He was 90% sure that you had cast some sort of spell on him when he was with you, something that made him happy and relaxed, because now that you weren’t here he pretty much wanted to throttle everyone.

Amren had been helping him look for a way to get back to you. The first thing they had tried was winnowing, he pictured your face; your smile, the way your hands felt in his, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t reach you. So they had been scanning books since then, reading up on every theory and myth. Nesta had brought him to speak to Gwyn who had told him about the theory that there could be up to at least 20 other worlds. Amren had also made him talk through every detail about this world he could remember, writing diligent notes as Cassian gave him weird looks when he spoke about Bucky Barnes.

“He’s a character, it’s a simple concept.”

“Yeah but how do you get an emotional connection to a character?”

“Shut up both of you.”

The pain in his chest was only growing as well, and he came to the daunting realisation that if he failed this; if he couldn’t get back to you, or get you back to him, he would probably have to deal with it for the rest of his long, long life.

He felt bad for taking his frustrations out on his family who were just worried about him, but he had never felt this way before. All he could think of was the way your eyes cleared when the realisation dawned on you. The way you had gone from sobs to a different, all-consuming kind of pain, just for a second, your eyes clearing as you realised you might never see him again. He hated himself for not being strong enough to put up a fight, he knew he wasn’t a match for a god, but he should’ve tried, he was too shocked at the time, too heartbroken, but now he was terrified that you might think he gave up on you. He had to get back to you, he was afraid what you might do if you were alone again. If you were alone after having the bond dangled in front of you, only to have it ripped away moments later.

It was almost 3am and everyone else in the house had gone to bed, but Azriel didn’t sleep well normally, and he especially wouldn’t while he was apart from you. He looked up from his book when he heard someone clear their throat, his head whipped up an incredulous smile gracing his features when he saw you sitting there.

“Baby,” he started moving forward but you held your hand up, stopping him.

“Oh that’s just too sweet, you kids are giving me so much content,” you dabbed at your eyes, and Azriel frowned.

“(y/n)? what’s going on?”

“Oh I’m not (y/n) sweetie, but that’s just adorable. My name is Aphrodite, Goddess of love and beauty, I often appear as whoever you find most beautiful.” Azriel’s heart dropped, the brief happiness he felt seeing your face gone as the lady spoke.

“Aphrodite? Hermes mentioned you.” He said, tensing as he realised he was dealing with another god. “In fact he said it was your fault this all happened.”

“Oh Hermes, always blaming someone else. You should be thanking me.”

“And why would I do that.” Azriel knew the look on his face was deadly, but something about seeing a god cower under his gaze was feeding his ego.

“Haven’t you worked out why you can’t travel back to her.” She raised her eyebrows at him, her expressions may be on your face, but as he paid more attention she seemed like a completely different person. “I have the power to move through world’s, you do not. I just thought that poor, sweet girl had been through enough that she should get to meet her soulmate. I waited for you after your mission and then just made you forget and let the two of you fall in love naturally, I mean I get teary eyed thinking about it, you’re just too cute!”

Azriel’s shoulders relaxed slightly, “So why are you here? Are you going to bring her to me?”

“Hmm I could, but I’d get in so much trouble, plus she’s very smart and I want to see if her plan works. You people are so very entertaining.” Her face rippled for a second as she turned, and she briefly looked like Mor, then Elain, then back to you. “But you, poor boy,” He chose to ignore the condescending tone, “You were dealt a very bad hand love wise, so maybe if she doesn’t succeed I could pull a few strings, but I do have a holiday planned so it may be a few decades.”

Her laugh made him feel sick and he glared at her, “What did you say about her plan?”

“Oh yes! She’s going down to the underworld to try find a solution,” Aphrodite was moving around the room gracefully as Azriel sat back down, the weight of Aphrodite’s easy words hitting him. She picked up one of the books laying on the desk and made an unimpressed noise, throwing it back down carelessly.

“That’s where the dead go right?” he asked, silently praying he was wrong,

“Yup! Don’t worry though, her mother lives there too,” she said ‘mother’ with a slight snarl, but Azriel ignored her. “You know I get why she likes you, you’re very pretty aren’t you?” She walked over to him, swaying your hips and he had to remind himself it wasn’t you as she sat down in his lap, forcing his hands to stay clenched at his side. She ran your hand along his jaw, tilting her head with a smile as she stroked his face. Her thumb rested on his bottom lip as he glared at her with murderous rage, trying to reel it in as he remembered she was possibly the only one that could help him.

“Well I guess I better go,” She sighed dramatically then pressed a perfectly polished gold coin into his hand, “Flip this if you need me, emergencies and sex only.” She winked at him, before kissing his cheek and standing, waving seductively before vanishing. Azriel sat for a few minutes, reeling from the interaction he just had. Is this the world I’ve entered now? Gods who can do whatever they want? He wondered if that’s why you avoided talking about the Gods, if maybe growing up with this had made you bitter to them. He wanted to ask you and talk to you about it, or anything for that matter but instead he just pocketed the coin and stood, winnowing to his room, and collapsing on his bed.

“Sweetie, you look beautiful,” Your mother cried out as you and Nico arrived, you were leaning heavily on his arm, while surrounded by death, the coldness of a lifeless place seeped into your bones and weakened you, you had learnt as much the first time you visited. You gave your mother a tight-lipped smile and hugged her awkwardly.

“Oh I missed you so much dear,” she stroked your hair, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“You could’ve visited.” It was hard to keep the bitterness out of your voice, after all you had gone through and she hadn’t visited once. A look of shock passed over her face but before she could reply Hades thundered in, his usual outfit, ‘the robes of death and despair’ as you fondly called them, were replaced by a dark suit, his hair slicked back from his face. He came to Persephone’s side and rested a hand around her waist pulling her in slightly, and despite yourself you felt a little jealous of their closeness as your mother looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Nico, my son, how are you?” Hades deep voice silenced the room, the very air seeming to stand still, and Nico flushed red as he was put on the spot. The four of you exchanged pleasantries as you made your way to the ridiculously long table, Hades sat at the head on one side, Persephone on the other, with Nico and you facing each other in the centre. The wood was dark, but the table was covered in all sorts of colourful food and you all helped yourselves while making small talk, only managing to hear your parents due to the eery silence of the room, dead guards not needing to make any noise.

After the first few courses and once you had consumed enough white wine to gain some courage you turned to face your mother.

“Mum, I think I need a favour if that’s okay?” you asked with great caution, extremely aware of the powerful forces surrounding you.

“Well that depends dear. What is it?”

“After the battle and the… fall, I never got my reward remember, I instead asked to be able to come get it when I needed it.”

“Yes of course, I thought that was very smart!” your mother spoke cheerfully but you could feel Hades’ gaze on your back, burning through your skin and bones to the very essence of your soul. “Let me guess, you need it now?”

“If that’s okay, some things have changed recently and I now know what I need,” you smiled at her, “I met a man, well actually he’s a faerie. Aphrodite wanted us to meet because we’re soulmates and after my fall she thought I deserved to see him, but since he’s from another world he had to go back, and we can’t be together.” You wiped away a few stray tears you forced out; this was your game. Your mother didn’t visit you often so she had never seen this side of you, the side that could manipulate even a god into giving you what you wanted. “So I thought, maybe for my reward I could become Fae and be permitted to live with Azriel in his world, and maybe come and visit my friends occasionally?”

“Oh that sounds lovely dear! That’s so alike me, I had to beg my mother and even then she didn’t let me stay here,” your mother rattled on and you smiled at her, but your shoulders were still tense as you knew you hadn’t won yet. You turned to where Hades sat, rubbing his temples.

“I get it. I do. But I really don’t think my brother would allow that, it’s too much.”

“Too much?” you asked, a bitter laugh escaping.

“I understand you went through a lot,”

“Do you?” you couldn’t stop the biting words, “Because the last I checked you both sat and did nothing while I was tortured down there. You could’ve done something, but you didn’t, you made a choice not to, and now I ask for ONE thing, and it’s too much?” Hades’ glare was murderous, but you weren’t going to back down.

“I mean if you really think about it, I’ll be out of your hair if you agree. One less demi-god always seems to be a win for you guys.” Nico said your name in warning, but you slowly stood. “I am not asking for much, I am asking to be allowed to live a life with the man I love and after all I have been through, fighting YOUR battles, I think it’s the least I deserve.”

You held Hades’ gaze for a few more seconds until he spoke. “Are you sure your not a child of Nyx?” he asked, and you grinned, cocking your head to the side.

“Why would that be?”

“You have a pure evil streak in you girl and uncharted power. You better learn to control it, before someone catches on.”

“We won’t have a problem I’m presuming?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said gruffly, going back to his meal and you relaxed, moving to hug your mother goodbye, whispering thanks to her, before linking arms with Nico and leaving.

The next day you awoke to a golden invitation to Olympus, and you smiled, soon. You’d be with him soon.

Olympus looked much nicer since Annabeth had gotten involved. You may have been biased but it seemed to hold a sense of home it never had before, the clinical cleanliness now feeling purer and more loving. The throne room however had remained much the same.

You stood alone in the middle surrounded by the arc of thrones, but you refused to take your eyes of Zeus. You had received a wink from Apollo and a smile from Aphrodite as you walked in but beside that it had been eye contact for at least five minutes. You knew better to speak before you were spoken to but the way they surrounded you and stared down on you was bringing up bad memories and you were really fighting a panic attack.

Seemingly sensing this Apollo cleared his throat, “Perhaps we should start father?” While you were grateful a part of you hated how well the flirtatious god knew you, he was the first to tend to your wounds when you first escaped, healing them enough so you wouldn’t die from blood loss but not enough for anyone to suggest he was picking favourites. His warm hands had provided a sense of comfort you thought you had lost entirely.

Zeus nodded slowly, a letter appearing in his hand, “So these are your terms? Transformation into high Fae, permission to live in a new world with visits back to this one twice a year?” you presumed Hades, or your mother had written the letter, neither of them present currently. You nodded clearly, not entirely trusting your voice.

“I guess it’s only fair, but a full transformation will hurt,”

“I’m sure I can take it.” you lifted your chin, holding your shaking hands tightly in an attempt to conceal them.

Zeus laughed, not taking his eyes of you, “I’m sure you can. Does anyone have any major oppositions?”

Aphrodite raised her hand, “I’d like to add that during her transformation, her womb changes shape so she may birth Illyrian children.” You shot her a grateful look, still not entirely sure why she was suddenly so invested in ensuring your happiness, but you wouldn’t complain.

Hera was the next to speak and you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “Why is she getting special treatment again? What did she do that was so different?”

“She was tortured for days!” Athena exclaimed,

“So?” Ares now.

“She was a child, it was brutal.” Apollo jumped to your aid and soon the chamber was filled with shouting voices as they argued over your fate.

“SILENCE.” Zeus quieted the room instantly and every eye turned to him, but he remained focused on you, “Well then? Answer the question girl, what makes you so special?”

You thought for a second before answering, “I don’t consider it special treatment. After the battles I’ve fought and the pain I’ve endured to help your causes, I’d consider it a form of retirement.” You kept Zeus’ gaze and let a streak of the evil Hades had warned you off show, smiling when his smug smile disappeared. He waved his hand, “Very well then, High Fae with altered womb and permission to live in their world and visit our occasionally, that is all?”

You nodded and he assessed you before holding out his hand, his gaze darkening. You furrowed your eyebrows as your limbs started to tingle before pain took over your entire body.

You had felt pain so many times before, pain that left more than just physical trauma, but this was different. You felt as if your blood had become fire and every bone was breaking as new ones reformed. You didn’t have any sense of time or place, all you could feel was pain. At one point you thought it was over only to open your eyes, feeling impossibly soft sheets beneath you, and see Apollo hovering over you, sweat dripping from his brow as he took some of the pain away, even for just a moment.

When you finally awoke you were on the ground. You stood up quickly, almost knocking yourself over as your movement were much faster than usual. You were outside a glowing city, it didn’t have skyscrapers like New York, but it was so comforting to look at you felt yourself being drawn in. As you crossed the border however, a beautiful man with dark hair appeared, his eyes narrowing.

“Who are you and why are you trying to get in here?” A shot of fear went through you as you felt his magic, it was thick in the air and powerful.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone, I’m just looking for someone,” you explained, swallowing down the lump in your throat. The handsome man’s gaze turned vacant before softening after a moment.

“I apologise, I’m Rhysand. Let me help you find whoever it is, what’s their name?”

“That’s okay, really. His name is Azriel, but I don’t think he’s expecting me.” Rhysand stopped, his head turning towards you, “what is it?” you asked.

“(y/n)?”

“How do you know my name?” you stepped back but he held out his hands,

“No, no I’m Az’s brother, let me take you to him.” he grabbed your arm softly and suddenly you were standing in a warm room facing Azriel. You felt tears fill your eyes as you stared at him, he uttered your name in question and you nodded running into his arms, completely engulfed by his scent, tears of joy running down your face when you suddenly realised something, pulling away.

“Did you say brother?” you turned to Rhysand, feeling all the plants in the air respond to your calls, when Azriel tugged you back to him.

“Not biological don’t worry.” He whispered and Rhysand laughed.

“I like her.”

“Hmm I was two seconds away from castrating you,” His eyes widened slightly and you laughed, turning back to Azriel as he looked over you.

“How- you, you’re Fae?” His eyes were filled with worry again, afraid he was being tricked.

“I never got my reward remember, I knew I would need it in the future,” you smiled at him as he cupped your face and leaned down to kiss you. You pulled apart, Azriel growling when you heard catcalls, turning, and seeing the room had practically filled. A shot of fear went through you as your eyes landed on another man who had red siphons, and Azriel followed your gaze, a hand stroking your face in reassurance.

“So this must be (y/n), welcome to our home, I’m Feyre,” A beautiful woman stepped forward and clasped your hand in hers, which you noted were stained from paint. Everyone else soon made introductions and they urged you to sit as you found out about this makeshift family Azriel was in.

“Oh! That’ll be Nyx, I’ll go,” Feyre said when a baby started crying in the distance,

“Wait what did she say the babies name was?” You asked, holding in a laugh.

“Nyx?” Rhys said,

“Oh, course, cool cool cool,”

“What?” Azriel asked, looking at you strangely.

“I’ve kind of met her,”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, she’s like the evilest deity there is, and she did not like me,” Rhysand stared at you with a look of shock on his face, but before anyone said anything else, Amren was laughing loudly.

“You must tell me all about these Gods girl.”

--------------------------------------------------

tags: @tastedlikedamnation

#acotar #acowar #acofs #acomaf #acofas #Azriel #azriel x reader #percyjackson #Heroes of Olympus

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luxekook · 5 years ago

Text

make you scream » ksj

» pairing: sully!seokjin x reader » genre: monsters inc. au, crack, smut » summary: there’s a monster in your closet, but you want him in your bed. » word count: 2.1k » warnings: 18+, cursing, bad jokes, teasing, TMG references, reader ties jin up, generally clueless seokjin, smut [oral (m receiving), mentions of sex and impregnation]

» request: @j-sope said: jin + mystery drink!

as part of the bangtanhq drinks and drabbles challenge

Ever since you moved into your new apartment, you’ve had a slight monster problem. And you aren’t talking the energy drink. You’re talking a living, breathing monster who creeps out of your closet in the wee hours of the morning in an attempt to scare you shitless.

At least, that’s your current theory of his intentions - mainly compiled from dark web searches and reddit threads. You aren’t sure what exactly his motive is with you, but you do know one thing - you don't want to scare him away. Whatever monster lab created him had royally fucked up, because your monster is really fucking hot.

You aren’t even sure if you can actually call him a monster given that he looks like a fucking god amongst men.

He’s been visiting you for three weeks now, and you have stopped acting frightened since week two. Your silence seems to be both baffling and vexing to your nightly visitor. Neither of you have spoken to the other. Hell, you aren’t even sure if he can speak. He’s only yelled and jumped out at you so far in an attempt to draw your screams.

But, tonight you plan to change things up and finally get some answers.

As the clock grows closer to 3am, you pretend to sleep, nervously awaiting your monster.

Finally, you hear the telltale creak of your closet door and the soft footfalls that always follow. Your heart thumps in your chest.

Before he can scare you, you hop out of bed, catching him off guard. Using his shock against him, you push him into your desk chair and quickly grab the jump rope you had set aside for this very purpose.

“Yah!” Your monster struggles as you tie him up, “Stop that! Get your hands off me!”

Ah, so he can speak. You secure the knots that tie him to the chair and step back to assess your work. Flicking on your bedside lamp, you check out your monster in all his glory.

He’s glaring up at you with a vicious pout that would be menacing if he wasn’t so fucking adorable. His hair is a mix of blue and purple with two small horns twisting up amidst the strands. His body is long and lean with shoulders that give you way too many dirty thoughts.

Finally, your eyes meet his. His brown eyes linger on yours for a moment before wandering up and down your own body, reminding you of your current outfit of just a long shirt and underwear.

“Well?” You place your hands on your hips, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Your monster scoffs and pulls at his restraints, “Untie me, human!”

“Puh-lease,” You roll your eyes, “You’ve been barging into my house in the dead of night for weeks, and you think you can order me around? No, sir. Not today.”

“Well, I wouldn't have to keep coming back if you would just scream for me,” He mumbles, hands clenched into fists, “I have a quota to meet, you know!”

“That sounds like a you problem,” You shrug, edging closer to him. He tenses at your approach. “Why don’t you like humans touching you, my little monster?”

“Little?!” He exclaims, “How dare you! I am Kim Seokjin, top Scarer at Monsters, Incorporated!”

You reach out to cup his cheek, “Aw, did I hit a nerve, Mr. Kim ‘I’m so scary’ Seokjin?” He glowers, refusing to answer.

“Going to have to shred your door now,” He mutters, looking defeated, “And get sanitized.”

You snap back, “Sanitized? Well, that’s just rude. And if you even think about destroying my closet door, just know that I will be sending you the bill.”

“I don’t know who this Bill is, but don’t send him to me,” Seokjin scrunches his nose, looking thoroughly displeased.

You laugh, shoulders shaking at his dead serious remark.

Your monster’s eyes widen as he stares up at your laughing form.

“What?” You ask, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen and still chuckling slightly.

“Can you do that again?” Seokjin asks again, looking at you with a peculiar yet hopeful gleam in his eye.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows, “Laugh?”

He nods, and you immediately get suspicious. “Why?”

“Because it apparently works the same way as screaming,” He shrugs, “I don’t make the rules.”

“So you do need my screams,” You smirk, “Interesting… Do these screams that you gather only come from fear?”

“Duh,” He rolls his eyes, “What other kind of screaming is there?”

You laugh again, ignoring how happy he looks that you did so. “There is one that comes to mind, monster boy.”

“Tell me!” He practically bounces in his seat, despite being tied up.

“Nah,” You shake your head, undoing his restraints, “I think that’s enough for one night. Out you go.”

“What?”

You pull him up from the seat and shove him towards your closet. He argues with you the whole way. Peering into your closet first, you pout when you don’t see anything out of the ordinary - that is, until Seokjin slips past you.

The back of your closet disappears before your eyes, and you see what looks like a warehouse with almost-human-but-not-quite individuals milling about.

Seokjin turns to leave, and you panic, your hand darts out to grab his wrist. You want to see him again.

“What is it, human?” Seokjin looks at you hesitantly.

“(Y/n). My name’s (y/n). And the other kind of screaming? It's not from fear; it’s from pleasure.”

His eyes practically pop out of his skull as your words sink in, “Pleasure—! But-but how?”

You push him out of your dimension.

The next evening, you don’t even feign sleep. This time, you wait up wearing nothing but a satin robe.

It seems that Seokjin also doesn’t follow his usual pattern as he storms into your room right on schedule. “(Y/n)! I demand you scream in pleasure for me!”

You choke on air, “That’s not how it works, Seokjin!”

“Well,” He crosses his arms, staring down at you from the foot of your bed, “Then tell me how it works.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” You sigh, shifting your legs so that your upper thigh peeks through the slit in your robe. Predictably, his eyes follow. “You’ll have to touch me, and I know you wouldn’t want to.”

You watch as he swallows hard, his eyes glued to your body, “I-I never said that.”

“Really?” You shift again. The tie of your robe loosens slightly. “I could have sworn you said ‘get your hands off me’ last night.”

He shakes his head emphatically, “No, that wasn’t me! That was, uh, Jim Seok-im!”

“Any relation?” You cock your head, entertaining his terrible effort to convince you.

“Nope, never met him,” Seokjin inches closer to you.

“Right,” You deadpan. “Well, don’t you all have sex over there in monster land?”

Seokjin gapes at you, “Yah! I am not making a child with you!”

“Good god, Jinnie,” You laugh, “Not all sex ends with pregnancy.”

“Ours does,” He scowls, looking thoroughly put out.

“So, let me get this straight,” You stand, walking the short distance over to him, “You monsters have monster sex with your monster cocks, and you don’t monster scream in monster pleasure?”

“Motion to ban you from saying the word ‘monster’ again,” He mumbles, still looking miffed.

“Motion denied, you monster.”

Seokjin pinches his nose in frustration, “Sex is purely for reproductive purposes. It’s a transaction. I don’t see how it can feel good.”

“What the monsterfucking fuck!” You just about blew a fuse. “What have you been doing? Just staring at your dick? Don’t you touch yourself? Have you never gone down on a girl monster? A boy monster? A gender-nonconforming monster?”

Seokjin slams a hand over your mouth, “Shut up, my human. Now, show me how to make you feel good so that I can collect your pleasure screams.”

Swatting his hand from your face, you shake your head, “I think I want to hear yours first.”

“I would like to see you try,” He laughs in an endearing squeaky way that makes you want to give him the suck of his life.

“Bet.” You sink to your knees, making quick work of his pants.

“Oh my sweet monster cock,” You breathe as you take in the sight before you. His cock is the biggest you’ve ever seen - thick and long with veins running down its smooth skin.

He’s hard already, and you shoot him a skeptical look. “What?” Seokjin shrugs, “It’s just my body acknowledging you as a potential mate. It’s happened before.”

Fury bubbles up inside you at the thought of him getting hard for anyone other than you. God, are you actually developing feelings for your monster? Pushing that thought aside, you vow to make him come so hard that all his (hypothetical) future orgasms will belong to the mere thought of you.

Without pause, you suck the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip.

“M-my human, what are you doing?” Seokjin yelps, his hand digging into your hair. He’s a natural, you think, choosing to ignore his question.

Your hands run up and down his thighs before winding their way around to squeeze his ass. The gasp that results is delicious and urges you to move faster.

You take more of him into your mouth, sucking harder, your cheeks hollow. His breath hitches, “O-oh, (y/n), keep doing that. Feels so good. How does it feel so good?”

Oh, your poor little monster boy has no idea how good it will get…

You take him all the way, your nose nudging his firm pelvis. Seokjin moans, and when you swallow around him, he lets out a series of what you can only assume are expletives in the monster world.

One hand still gripping his ass, you bring your other one forward to tease his balls in your palm. He shouts your name, and you feel him twitch inside your mouth.

You release him with a pop. “Will you come for me, Seokjin?” Your voice is raspy from the deep-throating, “Will you come in my mouth for me?”

“Y-yes,” He pants, “I need to release. Your mouth is the best thing I’ve ever felt, my human.”

Laughing softly, you grab his monster cock once more, “Oh, my little monster, you are sure in for a good time.”

Without further explanation, you suck him harder than you’ve ever done to anyone before. You want and need to have Seokjin unravel before you, to come down your throat. And it isn’t long before his moans grow louder and louder until he comes with a yowl that honestly rivals what yours had been like when your monster had scared you at first.

“My human,” Seokjin finally mumbles, as you pull your mouth away from him, “What was that?”

“A blowjob,” You shrug, getting to your feet, “Sometimes referred to as ‘giving that sloppy toppy’ or ‘putting that dick through a carwash’ or ‘showing them that 360 degree spin cycle’.”

He looks baffled, “I understood none of that, but can I give you one of these ‘blowjobs’ now?”

You laugh, “My greedy little monster, come back tomorrow, and we’ll talk.”

He pouts adorably, and you can’t help yourself from pressing your lips to his. A blush overtakes his cheeks and the tips of his ears, “My human, why did you do that?”

“You’re so cute, Jinnie,” You shrug, “I wanted to kiss you to show that I like you.”

He blinks, “You-you—?”

You shove him once again towards your closet, “Tomorrow, my handsome monster. Get ready, there are so many things I still have to show you.”

His eyes widen, “There’s even more!?”

“Oh, yes,” You flash him a wicked grin as you kick him out of your room, “I’m going to fucking rock your monster world, baby.”

Four Months Later...

“Hey, my pretty human,” Your monster whispers, his breath ghosting over your ear. Goosebumps rise across your skin.

“Hey, handsome,” You answer, your eyes shooting open to meet his.

“Yah!” Your monster stumbles back, “Would you quit doing that?” His pout only draws your attention to his plush lips.

“No,” You grin, sitting up in your bed. “Are you ever going to quit creeping around my room at night?”

“Never,” He continues to pout. “Besides, you love it.”

And you really do.

#bhqdrabbles #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #btsnoonanet #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #jin smut #bts smut

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imaginesbymk · 4 years ago

Text

“Something’s Wrong with Mr. Pink.”

Reservoir Dogs One Shot

Summary: There’s been spark between you and Mr. Pink, but he’s one to shield his emotions. He realizes he’s starting to lose you, but he’s out of ways to win your heart. Desperate, he approaches Mr. White for help.

Pairing: Mr. Pink x Fem!Reader

Tags: swearing, sexist remarks, smoking + mentions of drug use (marijuana)

Non Requested

Word Count: 2,054

Author’s Note: as you can tell, quentin tarantino movies have been on my list!!! the reader is codenamed Miss Beige!! i never thought i’d have this much appreciation for steve buscemi until now, he’s such a cool guy :((( also thank you @myriadimagines for checking my title capitalization aksnskdns - leave a like/reblog + feedback!!! <333

MR. BROWN gave Mr. Pink a ride to the next meeting, and the whole trip there, Brown rambled on and on about God knows what. It came through one ear and out the other for Pink. Brown didn’t seem to notice because of his investment of his proven theory of a movie he had seen and wanted to share it with someone.

If he wasn’t listening in silence, Pink would always have something to say. It would usually be a comment, an opinion on something about social life. This one afternoon, he bit his tongue, despite the guys knowing his mind was occupied, even Nice Guy Eddie raised a brow. It didn’t start the day they were all given your colour coded names. It didn’t start the day they reviewed the plan of the heist with each other. It all started when you two were unintentionally left alone at the large dining table, moments after the guys had walked out the restaurant for something.

“Pink’s a pretty colour.” You gave him a reassuring smile, stirring your straw in your milkshake.

“To you.”

“And to anyone else who would want to be codenamed Pink!” you scoff. “Sexist.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re Miss Beige,” he says, his mouth full of his toast.

“And I happen to like my name. It’s a pretty colour,” you paused. “Just like pink.”

Pink huffs, swirling his coffee mug. “I can’t wait to smoke.”

“Lucky.”

“My buddy sets up Thai sticks like it’s one of those model boats in a bottle. It’s so fragile to him, and he saved one for me. Something tells me I owe him a shit ton.”

“You smoke Thai sticks?” you ask. “Your poor lungs.”

“Nah, I gotta smoke outta one anytime after coffee just for me to either black out or jump off the Empire State building by the time we hit Easter.”

You chuckled.

From the windows of the restaurant, you could see the guys standing outside their parked cars including Nice Guy Eddie and Joe, talking to each other about whatever. You could see their mouths moving, Nice Guy Eddie using a lot of hand motions at Mr. White, and Joe calling someone on the phone.

This wasn’t the first time you spent a limited amount of minutes alone with Mr. Pink. At Uncle Bob’s Pancake House, you two did sit close to each other, except Mr. Blue sat in between the both of you, and you had to lean forward to see Mr. Pink if he was speaking or if you two were giving each other looks if someone said something stupid.

If you were that childish, you would've considered the five minutes of alone time with Mr. Pink a first date - without the formal introduction. You two didn’t give each other your names because of Joe, but you wouldn’t mind slipping it out.

Silence, and then-

“I know this really cool café near my apartment. We should check it out sometime,” you blurted out.

Pink was in the midst of swallowing his food. He chokes on his ketchup dipped toast, taking his coffee mug to chase the contents down his throat.

“Wait a minute-” Pink cleared his throat, then cleared it again. “Are you-” he cleared his throat for the final time. “Are you asking me out?”

“Y-yeah,” you sheepishly smile, holding in your breath. “I mean, we can go get coffee, hang out at my place afterwards - it’s just a five minute walk - and sit on my couch, listen to K-Billy’s Super Sounds of the ‘70s, you can smoke your Thai stick, I wouldn’t mind...” By looking at Pink’s face made you trail off your words. You knew where this was going.

“You couldn’t ask Brown or Orange?”

“No, I wanted to ask you. We’ve been talking lately, we seem to get along, thank God, and you’re really cool. Even when you can be an absolute dick almost all the time, you haven’t scared me off. Just one date, it won’t kill us.”

“A date...” he frowns a bit. “With you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” your heart sank.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Miss Beige. Ya just got the wrong idea. We’re here for a job, not to hook up. If you want to suck someone off, try your luck with Mr. Blonde. Besides, I go for chicks at a bar. I know from experience, they’re always coming in hot - first come, first serve typa’ shit.”

“Right. My bad.” You felt yourself shrinking now, fighting the urge to get up and make a dash outta there, somewhere to scream in embarrassment, whatever emotion it was.

“Excuse me.” Mr. Pink gets up and walks away, just as the rest of the guys start making their return to the large table.

“Where did Mr. Pink go?” Mr. Orange asked.

“Little men’s room, I’m guessing.” You sighed, sliding the milkshake away from you. “I’m full.”

“Something’s wrong with Mr. Pink. Did you guys get in a fight? We were only gone for five minutes,” Mr. Brown laughs.

You sat in silence, staring down.

“Nah, I bet she finally put him in his place and he’s crying like a baby in there,” Mr. Blue said, lighting the cigar in his mouth with a match.

“Most definitely not.” Mr. White shook his head, patting his pockets in search of his lighter. “That man’s a smartass, and smartasses like him know how to shield themselves. He’s fine. If anything, he can walk his ass home.”

Meanwhile, Mr. Pink calmly entered the restroom, placed both hands on each side of the tiny sink, stared at his reflection in the dirty mirror, and screamed in anger.

He jumps when he notices a man had appeared from one of the stalls just a moment ago, staring at him worriedly.

“WHAT?!” Mr. Pink snaps.

If someone treated him like a friend, he goes along with it if they weren’t weird or creepy. If someone told a joke, he’ll laugh if it isn’t corny or cringeworthy. But if someone admitted their feelings to him? Let alone ask him out?

That was the thing: Mr. Pink doesn’t like the idea of vulnerability. He’s aware that it’s unavoidable, it’s human nature - he just chooses not to give into it. Mr. Pink won’t waste a breath giving anyone the impression that he’s easy to get along with and that he’s a kind of guy to not act like a complete jerk half the time, because that’s not true. Not on his behalf, at least.

“Mr. White,” Mr. Pink approaches him in the vacant room at the hideout one day.

He knows people can judge. So he naturally survives on witty remarks, being a sarcastic ass most of the time, and coffee, coffee, and more coffee. Coffee times six.

Mr. White finishes combing his hair in the small mirror, nodding at him as a response. “You all right, son?”

But at the same time, his heart was telling him he wants you all to himself. “I got a problem...”

"SO you want my help?” Mr. White said, a few moments after Mr. Pink had explained the situation he was stuck in. “You’re completely hopeless right now? Gosh, is it my birthday already?”

“You’re full of shit,” Pink mumbled.

“Thought you’re s’posed to be a fuckin’ professional, like you said?” Mr. White chuckled. “I would have thought you would know what to do by now.”

“What am I, the Dalai Lama? I don’t know the answer to everything.”

“I mean... I kinda figured something was goin’ on between you two, I tried to warn her,” White shoots him a blank stare.

“Warn her?” Mr. Pink scowls. “Like I’m some fuckin’ tiger on the loose?”

“I did tell her: Listen, honey,” Mr. White grimaced, as he saw you like a sixteen-year-old teenager not knowing better than to get her heart broken. “Are you one hundred percent sure you like Mr. Pink? He’s a pretty cynical guy. You know he doesn’t tip waitresses?”

You shrug.

“Look, I know I can be very close to myself while very outspoken but,” Mr. Pink sighs. “I mean, c’mon, you’ve seen Miss Beige. Who wouldn’t want her? One time, she called in sick for a job she worked at just to play Super Mario World.”

“You could go there and apologize to her.”

“It’s not that easy, White.”

“How so? Just tell her you freaked out but you had a change of heart.”

“No, man. I could have accepted it right there and then, I could be taking her out somewhere, a place she likes, or that café she was talking about. But no, I turn into the cold piece of shit I always am ‘cause I’m a fucking-” Mr. Pink kicks the rusty chair in anger. “-idiot!” He kicks it again, hurting his foot in the process. He cries out in pain and hops away to the table for balance.

“Mr. Pink, it’s not too late to win her heart. If you really like her, and I can tell you’d take a bullet for her, then brush the professionalism aside for one second and make your move.”

“How?” he chuckles, taking a seat in the chair he had just kicked.

“Well, you can start by introducing yourself.”

“Already done.”

“No I mean, your name.”

“Whoa, whoa whoa. What we’re not gonna do is that.” Mr. Pink ran his fingers through his hair, turning his back to White to therapeutically stare at the light pink tiles on the walls.

“Why not?” White shrugs. “I told her mine. And it’s-”

Mr. Pink turned around. “What?”

Mr. White furrowed his brows. “Huh?”

“You told her your name?” he said. In his mind he prayed Mr. White gave her a fake name on the spot.

“I mean, not just her. Mr. Orange, too. My first name and where I was from, it was a normal conversation.”

“...WHY?!” Pink’s voice echoed in the warehouse.

“Orange asked.”

“You know what Joe said, we’re not supposed to reveal any personal info about ourselves!”

“Joe said this, Joe said that- fucking teacher’s pet,” Mr. White mocks.

“What the hell were you thinking, White?” he shouts.

“How else can you and Miss Beige take a step further if you can’t even tell each other your fuckin’ names? Just introduce yourself, Pink. That’s one way to start,” Mr. White says.

“And what if she doesn’t like my name?” He could only come up with such a question like that.

“What is your name?”

“Fuck you, man.” Mr. Pink stood up from the chair, earning a chuckle from his colleague.

“All right, if you won’t tell me your name, then tell y/n. Y/n should be the only one who can know.”

Mr. Pink turned back to him again. “Y/N?” he says. “That’s her name?”

Mr. White nods. As heated as Mr. Pink was, he knew one day your name would have to fall out of his lips and not a colour, and he wouldn’t mind that. Y/N...

Mr. Pink wouldn’t mind that one bit.

FROM now on, the café near your apartment complex would be your go-to. It was a café not too small but not too big, and no one would bat an eye if you showed up in your pajamas. The following Saturday you went there alone, sipping your coffee and turning to the second page of the morning paper.

What sucked was the fact that after you were turned down, you came to think that Mr. Pink wouldn’t be able to see how cool the interior was. He sure was missing out. Sure his Thai stick won’t be stinking up your living room while throwback songs from the ‘70s play on the radio, but indeed, sucks for him.

“Shit, you were right, y/n. This place is pretty neat.”

The newspaper crinkled when you lowered it down. Standing at the foot of your booth was Mr. Pink. This time he didn’t have on his silly Hawaiian shirt like last time, and no, he didn’t ironically wear pink as a kind gesture. He did look good in a white tee, though.

You had to smile. He knew your name. And you wondered how...

“Oh, Mr. Pink. Morning,” you nodded.

He takes a seat in front of you. “C’mon, we’re not at work. Just call me—”

THE END

—

TAGLIST: @locke-writes

#i wish mr pink actually revealed his name in the movie #but no he’s a ✨professional✨#reservoir dogs imagine #reservoir dogs one shot #reservoir dogs x reader #reservoir dogs fanfic #mr pink x reader #mr pink imagine #mr pink #reservoir dogs #reservoir dogs fanfiction #mr pink one shot #reader insert #one shot #imagine #mk's faves

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