#we will come back from this. but you know
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authorhjk1 · 2 days ago
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Public punishment
(Yujin X Wonyoung X Male Reader)
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Your face remains expressionless as you pause the video.
"See, daddy? I told you she is such a slut."
You ignore Wonyoung as you stare at the woman on the screen.
Yujin really is a slut. Which you already knew from the first time you met her. Same as Wonyoung. The difference between those two is, that Wonyoung isn't as slutty as the older girl. Yujin shows off her body way more.
The three of you are all in a purely sexual relationship. But it seems like Yujin forgets that from time to time.
"You need to punish her."
You finally take a look at Wonyoung, who is sitting next to you. She's sitting straight, her hands resting on her thighs. You catch the small smile around her lips. She's loving this. She'd gladly throw Yujin under the bus, just so you can see her as the better of the two.
"I really should."
You think out loud, making Wonyoung scoot closer.
"She will be home in two hours."
"And?"
Wonyoung's eyes look up at you.
"Don't I get a reward?"
"For what?"
She pouts.
"Come on, daddy."
You sigh, knowing it'll be hard to resist her. But you try to keep your head clear. You need to find a fitting punishment for Yujin.
"At-At least let me suck it."
She looks up at you with those big eyes of hers, her lips still sporting that cute pout.
"Fine."
"Yes!"
Wonyoung exclaims. But before she can unbuckle your belt, you grap her wrists.
"But not like this."
You gesture at the oversized hoodie and sweatpants she is wearing.
"I'll go change. Just a minute."
Like an excited little bunny, Wonyoung runs towards her room in record speed.
You unpause the video of Yujin dancing in that little skimpy outfit of hers. She winks at the camera, plays with her pigtails...
All the fans seem to love her. Of course they do. Who wouldn't?
An idea slowly blossoms inside your mind. So many people. And all of them love her. Not just for her music, but her body and face as well.
You hear the door to Wonyoung's room open. You're not being paid badly, being one of Ive's managers and all. But you could certainly make a few extra bucks, if you play your cards right. A mischievous smirk plays around your lips as you finally plan out Yujin's proper punishment.
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Wonyoung wordlessly kneels down in front of you, a satisfied smile on her face. She knows you like it when you can hold onto something. That's why she often wears pigtails or a ponytail.
While you keep watching Yujin's performance, Wonyoung finally gets her reward. You feel her lips close around your shaft. Her head begins to bob soon after, her lips gliding along your length.
While you watch the older woman dance on screen, you reach down and hold onto Wonyoung's pigtails with both hands. She gladly gives up control as you wrap her hair around your hands. You start to pull her back and forth, using her mouth like a fleshlight.
The young woman in front of you stays silent, expect for a couple of gags here and there. She tries to look up at you, although your eyes are glued to the screen. Wonyoung is wondering what you're thinking about. And even more importantly, why aren't you thinking about her?
She'd be completely satisfied with giving you head, if you were focused on her. But that's not the case right now. Wonyoung craves your attention. After all, that's why she told you about Yujin. You've been on vacation for the last two weeks, so you didn't even meet the two of them often during that time. And now that Wonyoung finally has you to herself, you can't stop thinking about Yujin.
But she can't complain either, because her mouth is completely stuffed with your cock. Unable to say a word, Wonyoung lets you use her mouth in what ever way you see fit. Even if you aren't even looking at her.
"What exactly are we doing here?"
Despite her annoying questions, Yujin still follows you into the mall.
"Wait and see."
You say, almost to yourself, as you look around.
"Are you just returning something? What's in there?"
For the nth time, Yujin is trying to sneak a peak inside the big bag you brought with you.
You take her hand and lead her towards a Chinese restaurant inside the mall. Right next to it is a sign that shows the way to a public restroom. The left one for women, the right one for men.
"Isn't it too early for lunch?"
Rolling your eyes at her questions, you drag her inside the men's room.
"Oppa, I shouldn't-"
Yujin finally stops talking when the two of you almost run into a guy who is just putting his pants back on.
"What the-"
"Relax, mate."
You pat his shoulder and lead Yujin towards the stall that is the furthest away from the door.
"What are you doing here?"
The guy, who seems to be a little older than you, is washing his hands while watching the two of you.
"Don't get any funny ideas. The two of you can go have fun at home."
He shakes his head as he dries off his hands.
"Young people theses days..."
You catch him taking a good look at Yujin.
"Although it's not like I can't blame you. If my wife was this pretty..."
Yujin feels a little uncomfortable as she feels him looking her up and down.
You told her to wear the same outfit, which she wore during her last performance. She thought you did so, because you liked it.
Small denim shorts, a white and black top with blue letters on it, a necklace, a choker and her hair in pigtails.
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"You wanna have a go?"
Your question makes Yujin look at you, her mouth open. The guy raises an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Well, I didn't put the butt plug in yet, so her ass might be too tight right now. But her mouth and her pussy are amazing."
Yujin gasped when you first mentioned a butt plug. And now she stares at you in horror. How could you just offer her body, her holes, to someone the both of you don't even know?
"Oppa-"
"I do have a wife..."
She gets interrupted by the guy thinking aloud.
"But I guess a blowjob isn't cheating."
"Of course it's not."
You assure him, while Yujin just stands there, flabbergasted.
What the hell is going on? Why are you doing this? You were always a little possessive, wanting to make sure you're the only one Yujin and Wonyoung sleep with. So why are you offering her up to someone else? Especially without asking her first?
"Oppa, coud we maybe talk for a second?"
She's about to give you a death stare, but you ignore her, while pulling out something from your bag. A collar. With a chain on it.
"What is that?"
An unnecessary question. Yujin has worn this collar a lot of times before.
She leans away, but knows she won't be able to stop you from putting it on her. A moment later, the leather is secure around her neck.
"Would you at least tell me the reason?"
"Because of this."
You gesture at her clothes.
Yujin rolls her eyes.
"This is part of my job, you know? Being an idol?"
"Did you choose the outfit, or did the stylist choose it?"
Your question makes Yujin look down.
"I-I did."
"Thought so."
You pull at her chain, making Yujin stumble into the stall. Before she can react, you tie the chain around the hook that is attached to the wall. Usually people would hang their jackets there. Now it's a way for you to keep Yujin in place. She watches with big eyes as you take out a lock and secure the chain with it. She sees the key disappearing in your pocket.
"Stop this prank, you made your point."
Yujin tries to think positively. There's no way you'd actually do this, right? Letting another man use her mouth?
"We can go home and you can punish me there."
"This fic is called public punishment for a reason."
You walk out of the stall.
"Have fun."
The man looks at Yujin.
"Oppa?"
Yujin calls for you again, while her eyes are focused on the man's crotch. She watches how he pulls down his pants. The young woman can see the outlines of his cock underneath his boxers. She can't help but swallow hard.
He might be a stranger, but that doesn't mean she can't give him head just once, right? She might be an idol, but the guy doesn't seem to know her. And obviously there aren't any cameras here. So why not? You set this up, so Yujin might as well use this opportunity.
She closes her eyes when the man pulls his underwear off. Yujin licks her lips, wanting to get surprised. She smiles, before opening her mouth wide. How many people are you gonna send in here anyway? Three? Not much of a punishment, is it?
Her eyes shoot open when the man fills her whole mouth with one thrust. She didn't expect him to go all in from the beginning. Yujin quickly becomes a toy for this stranger as he uses her pigtails as handlebars. He's fucking her face, while also pulling her head onto his cock.
Yujin was prepared for a couple of lazy blowjobs. The butt plug stuff you mentioned seemed exaggerated to her at that time. Not anymore though. Are you really gonna let random guys have their way with her?
Yujin closes her eyes, letting the man use her mouth however he sees fit.
You feel a little weird as the first guy gives you 5000₩. You put the bill in your wallet and gesture towards the door next to you. He seems to be as old as you. When he opens the door, you hear Yujin gag inside the men's room.
You set up a chair, which people usually use for camping, next to the door. A cardboard sign is standing next to it.
"Mouth 5000₩"
"Pussy 10000₩"
"Ass 20000₩"
As you watch a guy, who barely looks like he is twenty, walk in your direction, you wonder how much money you might be able to make with Yujin today. If only 20 people pay for a blowjob, you'd make 100 000₩ in one day.
As he takes out his wallet to pay you, you hear the door open. The man, whom you met when you went inside with Yujin, is now stepping out of the restroom.
"That was amazing. She is perfect."
"Thanks."
You smile as you receive more money from the younger guy.
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Yujin uses her finger to scoop up the rest of the man's cum. He shot his load all over her face and in her mouth without even asking. She was surprised, almost mad, at first. But for some reason Yujin is really starting to get off on this. The idea of more men walking in and just using her like a whore makes her feel warm and fuzzy. She could've sworn the door opened and closed a moment ago, while he was about to cum on her. Does that mean....?
Yujin can barely contain her excitement. Who comes next? When the next man steps into the stall, Yujin smiles up at him. She's aware that the first man probably messed up her face a little bit already. But the guy in front of her now is already taking off his belt. Seems like she doesn't look too bad yet. Yujin's mouth opens as she watches him undress. She doesn't close her eyes this time, wanting to have the full experience.
When he puts his cock in her mouth, Yujin immediately starts to suck him off. It didn't take her long to accept her new role fully. Her lips move along his shaft, making sure not to miss an inch.
"Damn, you're a whore."
Yujin's cheeks turn red as she hears him groan. Was that a compliment? Is she doing a good job?
She decides to do her best, not wanting to disappoint. Soon, the man's hands hold onto her pigtails too. Just like the first man, he begins to fuck her face as well. Yujin looks up at him, giving him her sexiest look, wanting to feel his load down her throat as soon as possible.
It still feels a little awkward to her. Twenty minutes ago, she never thought this would ever happen. Of course she has fantasies. And some of them include more than just one man, no doubt. But now being able to experience this is something different.
As the second man keeps fucking her face, Yujin hears the door open and close again. Her pussy gets even wetter at the thought of more men coming in to use her mouth. She does her best to use her tongue as much as possible, trying to meet the new guy quickly.
"Gosh, you're amazing."
The man, who's cock is in her mouth, groans once more. Yujin feels him throb and just two thrusts later, he buries himself as deep in her as possible. His cum shoots into her mouth and throat, almost leaving her gagging as he pulls out.
"Might come back later again."
"Yes,...."
Yujin coughs due to the cum in her throat.
"Please come again."
She waves after him as he leaves her stall, eager to see who's next. Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees you.
"Oppa?"
"Having fun?"
Your mischievous smile makes her carefully nod her head. Once more shame colours her cheeks red. She shouldn't be enjoying this, it's a punishment after all. But she can't help it.
"Now that more people seem to be interested, I'm afraid we'll have to raise the stakes."
You walk closer and help Yujin to her feet.
"What do you mean?"
"Turn around."
You ignore her question and make her lean face first against the wall of the stall. Yujin feels how you reach around her and unbutton her shorts.
"Wait, oppa. You're not going to let strangers fuck me, right? Right?"
When you don't answer, a shiver runs through Yujin's body. Giving blowjobs to strangers in a random restroom is one thing. But offering her pussy too? Should she really go this far?
Yujin hesitates, thinking about telling you to stop. The sound of someone stepping closer makes her turn her head. She sees another man, who's now looking into the stall. Is he the one who gets to fuck her? Yujin can't help but notice that he is definitely younger than the other two men. Around her age. And undeniably handsome. Maybe just this once is okay?
The man watches as you start to pull down Yujin's shorts. The way she looks at him at the same time, even slowly biting her lip, makes him reach for his crotch. He slowly cups it through his jeans as you let Yujin's shorts drop to the floor.
The young woman is wearing a light blue lace thong. She's naturally arching her back a little, showing off her plump ass. You reach into your pocket and take out the butt plug and a small bottle of lube. After pulling down her panties as well, you coat the metal with the transparent liquid.
"Oppa, what are you doing?"
Yujin expected you to leave again as soon as you took off her panties. Wasn't that what you're here for? Yujin is quickly proven wrong when she feels the slightly cold metal poke at her rear entrance. You free hand pushes one of her cheeks to the side, making it easier for you to slowly work the plug inside of her.
"Just relax."
You whisper into her ear, giving Yujin goosebumps.
This isn't the first time she's wearing a butt plug. You and her have already experimented a couple of times. But quickly it dawns on her, why you're doing this. So you're not just offering her mouth and pussy to strangers, but also her ass?
Yujin expects fear or anger to bubble up inside of her. Instead, she's surprised when she catches herself thinking about someone, who's not you, taking her ass. In the end, it doesn't matter who fucks her as long as she feels good.
Yujin gasps as you finally push the butt plug completely inside of her. You give her ass a playful slap.
"Have fun."
As you place the bottle of lube on the sink before leaving the restroom, you hear Yujin moan.
"Oh, god..."
Yujin sighs as she feels another man shoot his load deep inside her pussy. How many guys have already used her by now? Yujin tries to count. Two came in her mouth, one on her face and three inside her pussy. Makes six. A dumb smile plays around Yujin's lips at that realization. Six guys within what? An hour? Two hours? She doesn't know what time it is.
When she hears the next guy unzip his pants behind her, Yujin feels her pussy getting wet at the sound. The last three guys all fucked her, so she is still standing the way you left her. Body against the wall of the stall. Cheek pressed up against the surface. She is holding onto the wall and the chain that keeps her in place for support. Yujin's legs are growing weak with every pounding she is taking.
"Fuck, you're tight."
The man behind her groans as he slowly pushes into Yujin's cum filled pussy. She lets out a moan herself, not prepared for his size. He lets her get accustomed to it, once he is fully inside of her.
But soon he fucks Yujin hard against the wall, making her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her moans echo through the restroom with every one of his thrusts. She felt his hands on her waist at the beginning. But now he is holding onto and pulling at her pigtails.
Yujin's back arches further, separating her a little from the wall. Which only means the man behind her fucks her harder. Her ass looks way better when she's slightly bent over. Her cheeks clap loudly against his body. Her own moans grow louder.
"Your cheap pussy feels amazing."
He growls into Yujin's ear as he fucks her as hard as he can. The young woman feels a wave of shame and arousal rush through her. Are you charging theses guys money so they can fuck her? And how much is her pussy worth?
Her deepest fantasies come to light once more as Yujin thinks about that. This whole situation is slowly turning her into a pleasure craving whore. Yujin can feel what a slut she's become. Getting used by strangers again and again in the men's bathroom. And you even take money for it as if she is some cheap play thing.
"Please breed my cheap pussy."
Yujin moans when she finally accepts her place. It's the first time she's said something to one of these men.
The man behind her was about to climax anyway. Yujin cries out as she gets cream pied for the fourth thime today. The man behind her groans into her ear, pressing her against the wall as he leans against her.
When he finally recovers from his orgasm, he pulls out of Yujin and gets dressed. She can feel how his cum slowly starts to leak out of her freshly fucked pussy. He slaps one of her ass cheeks one last time and then leaves the stall. Yujin is left alone, cum now running down her legs.
"Just go inside. She's in the last stall."
You collect the money from the 13th man, who is now entering the restroom. You're surprised that it's going so well. It's been barely two hours and you already made more money than you thought you would. Although you did notice that no one has tried Yujin's ass yet. You wonder if most guys are just not into anal, or if you set the price too high.
"Hi, daddy."
Wonyoung's familiar voice makes you look up. She is standing in front of you in a cute white dress, holding a matching purse. Her left hand is holding onto something that looks like a stick, wrapped in a plastic bag.
"I have a present for Yujin unnie. You don't mind if I bring it to her, do you?"
You shake your head, not without noticing how good Wonyoung looks in that dress.
As the younger girl steps into the men's room, she hears Yujin's moans echo off the walls. She hesitates, thinking about waiting for the man to leave. She saw him go inside as she walked towards you. But to her surprise, she hears him groaning already.
"Oh yes, fill that slutty pussy up."
Wonyoung almost laughs at Yujin's words. She did the right thing by telling you what Yujin did during their last performance. She's a cheap slut after all. The complete opposite of Wonyoung. If she can finally make you see that, Wonyoung will have you all to herself. It's just a matter of time.
"That was amazing."
The man praises Yujin, still catching his breath as he pulls his pants back up. Yujin is slightly disappointed that he didn't last long, but she decides to take it as a compliment. It seems like there will be more than enough dicks for her today anyway.
But when the next person steps into the stall, Yujin's eyes become big.
"W-Wonyoung?"
"Hi, unnie."
"What are you doing here?"
Her shakey voice reveals how embarrassed she feels right now. She was completely fine with being used like a slut while she was alone. But now that Wonyoung can see her, she feels ashamed.
And Wonyoung examines Yujin closely. By now, Yujin doesn't look as put together as before. Her pigtails are a little loose and her clothes are lying in a pile in one of the corners of the stall. Her face is mostly clean. There's still some makeup on it, but most has been washed away by now.
"I have an early Christmas present for you."
Yujin narrows her eyes in suspicion at Wonyoung's cheeky smile. She bites her lip when she sees the younger girl holding something that looks like a rod in her hand.
"Is that what I think it is?"
Wonyoung nods.
"Just for you, unnie."
Yujin holds her breath as Wonyoung takes out the mysterious object. It's almost as long as Yujin's entire torso. One end has a hook on it, the other ends in the same shape as the plug inside her ass.
"I don't think this is a good idea, I-"
"But daddy is okay with it."
Wonyoung steps closer. Yujin feels shame rush through her system once more. She is still feeling a little uncomfortable thinking about strangers being inside her most intimate place. So she was glad to some degree that no one seemed to be massively interested in her ass yet. But the anal hook, might have some men change their mind.
"Why are you even doing this? Did I do something wrong?"
Wonyoung chuckles as she stands behind Yujin.
"You know daddy is a little possessive. And acting like that on stage was a little too desperate, if you ask me. He would've found out at some point anyway."
"Wait."
Yujin can feel anger bubbling up inside of her.
"Did you tell on me?"
A sharp hiss escapes her mouth, when she feels Wonyoung carefully pull at the butt plug. She feels the ring of her muscles stretch around the widest part of it, until she is finally left empty.
"Of course I did. I'm a good girl after all."
The younger girl's triumphant tone makes Yujin curse her silently. Of course she did.
Wonyoung looks down on Yujin's gaping hole. She places the anal hook at her leader's rear entrance and starts to push it inside of her.
The older girl's eyes roll to the back of her head as she gets filled once more. She could swear that this one feels bigger than the one before. She's almost left breathless. As she tries to get accustomed to her asshole being stretched out even further, Wonyoung is already using the other end to secure it on Yujin's collar.
"There you go, unnie. You look so beautiful."
"Oh, please. Stop mocking me and leave."
Wonyoung laughs.
"You think I'm done already?"
She shakes her head.
"I'm already here, so why don't I make this visit a special memory for the both of us?"
Her mischievous tone has Yujin sweating. What else is this brat up to?
Wonyoung takes out her phone.
"Smile, unnie."
"What?"
Wonyoung makes a peace sign with her fingers, smiles into the camera and a flash lights up the stall.
"What the hell, Wonyoung? Delete that."
"Oh, unnie. You still think you can order me around?"
The younger girl looks straight at her.
"Now I'm the one in control."
A smile plays around her lips.
"Why don't you kneel down? I'll get a better picture that way."
Yunin rolls her eyes. She could put up a fight if she wanted to. But would you punish her for that as well? Probably. Wonyoung is right. In this moment, Wonyoung is the good girl. But Yujin has still some fight left in her. She just doesn't move.
Wonyoung waits for a couple of moments, but then tugs at Yujin's collar. It's enough for the object inside her ass to move. Yujin gasps. Then bites her lip. The younger girl does it again, a smile still on her lips.
"Come on, unnie. Just one more picture, hmm?"
After hesitating, Yujin finally gives up. She is convinced it's better to let Wonyoung take a picture of her, instead of letting her watch Yujin getting used.
"There you go. You look amazing."
Wonyoung takes the picture and shows it to her.
"See?"
Yujin's cheeks burn red.
There she is. Kneeling on the floor of some restroom stall. A collar around her neck, a chain keeping her in place. The anal hook is visible as well, making the fact that she is naked even worse. Her face doesn't look as good as she has hoped. One can definitely tell that she took a couple of facials today.
"Oh, we got company."
Wonyoung remarks excitedly as the door to the restroom opens.
"Don't be shy, come over here."
She motions the man to walk over to her.
"Hello."
He gives her a quick bow and then his eyes meet Yujin's. She can tell he's hesitating, not having expected to see someone else here.
"Oh, don't mind me. Just enjoy yourself."
The man glances at Wonyoung, before looking back at Yujin. His eyes roam her body for a couple of seconds. Eventually, he undoes the button and the zipper of his jeans.
Yujin's eyes are fixated on his cock as he pulls it out. Definitely one of the biggest she's had so far today.
"Is it okay if I... If I put it in your mouth?"
His words are dirty, but he looks almost innocent. Yujin nods, a small smile playing around her lips. He's cute.
When the man steps closer, Yujin opens her mouth. She wraps her lips around his cock, sucking on his tip. The guy instinctively puts his hand on the back of her head and slowly pushes his length inside of her further.
"Yes, that's it. Make her take it all."
Yujin almost forgot Wonyoung was still there. But now her eyes stare right at Wonyoung's phone, which is obviously recording. Yujin closes her eyes. It's not like Wonyoung will stop if she asks nicely.
"Try to fuck her face. It feels amazing, trust me."
Yujin is cursing Wonyoung silently once more. The man hesitates, but eventually takes a hold of both her pigtails. His first thrust is shallow, almost weak. The next one barely makes her take half his shaft. Yujin opens her eyes to look up at him. She winks playfully and then forces herself further down his cock. If Wonyoung wants a show, so be it. It's not like Yujin will ever recover from this anyway. Might as well make the best out of it.
"Oh, there you go. My unnie is such a cock drunk slut."
Under Wonyoung's dirty commentary, Yujin continues the combination of blowjob and face fuck. The man in front of her has gained a little more confidence and has started thrusting into her mouth a little harder and faster. His grip on her pigtails has tightened. Committed to delivering Wonyoung the most dirtiest video possible, Yujin decides to become sloppy.
She leaves her mouth open a little wider, stops swallowing her own spit and just starts to let it naturally escape her mouth. Soon the man's whole cock is drenched in her saliva. Her knees and the already wet tiles underneath her get hit as well.
Wonyoung bites her lip when she sees Yujin look directly into the camera. She just looks so sexy while getting her face fucked. The younger girl can't help but rub her thighs together. How much she is now longing for your cock using her mouth just like that. She keeps recording as she continues to think about exactly that. How you used her mouth like a toy last night, barely even looking at her, while your eyes were glued to Yujin on screen.
"I-I think I'm gonna finish."
The man who's fucking Yujin's face clearly hesitates, his grip on her pigtails softening. But Yujin just shakes her head and lets her tongue roam his cock.
"Give her your cum, she wants it."
Wonyoung catches the man's red cheeks, but her focus is on making sure that the camera is capturing Yujin, who's doing her best to make him climax.
With a loud groan from the man, she finally achieves her goal. She quickly moves back, letting his cock pop out of her mouth. With closed eyes, Yujin takes his cum like a pro. He paints her face, coating her cheeks, nose and lips in his semen.
"You look amazing, unnie."
Wonyoung has to hold back a laugh after stopping the recording. She takes one last picture of her leader covered in cum for good measure, before deciding to head out.
"Have fun in here. Daddy promised to buy me lunch."
With a provocative wave of her hand, Wonyoung strides towards the exit.
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Yujin lets out a weak groan as the man behind her closes his pants again. She's bent over the closed toilet, her ass at the perfect height for anyone who would come in.
The man who just came inside her ass is now putting the anal hook back into place. Yujin grimaces as she feels his cum getting pushed deeper into her guts and the cold metal stretches her out again.
Her assumption was right. After Wonyoung came by, a lot of people started to use her ass. By now, Yujin can't even count anymore how many men have used her throughout the day. Definitely more than twenty. Maybe fifty? Or more than that?
Her weak body has made her feel tired and exhausted. As she hears the door open again, just after the last man closed it, she just sighs in defeat. It's not like she didn't enjoy her punishment. In fact, she's still enjoying it. But a break once in a while would've been nice.
As you walk past the sink, you grab the almost empty bottle of lube. You hold your sign in the other hand, smiling as you check the back. You made a mark for every guy who paid you. You almost earned a month's salary within a day.
"Oppa?"
Yujin looks at you when you walk inside her stall.
"It's time to go home, the mall closes in half an hour."
"Is-Is my punishment over?"
Yujin has slid off the toilet seat and is now kneeling on the floor again.
"Almost."
"Are there still more people, who want to use me?"
She looks tired and worn out, but you catch the small glint in her eyes, when she think there are more men yet to come.
"Well, one to be exact."
Realization hits her immediately.
"You're going to use me too, oppa?"
A grateful smile makes its way onto her lips.
"Yeah."
You put down the sign and undo your belt.
"Why don't you get my cock wet first?"
"Yes, oppa."
Yujin quickly takes her place right in front of you. As soon as your pants hit the floor, her mouth closes around your length. Just like the dozens of times before today, Yujin's head bobs up and down on your cock. Her tongue pressed flat against your shaft, her lips forming an airtight seal.
"That's right."
You encourage her as you take a hold of her pigtails.
"This is all you're good for. Offering up your holes like a public slut."
Yujin moans with your cock in her mouth, sending vibrations through your body.
You soon take over, fucking her face like so many men before you today. The young woman's makeup is completely gone and there are still dried up drops of cum here and there.
Wanting to ruin her face even further, you eventually pull out. Yujin looks up at you, mouth still open. You use your cock to smear her own spit all over her face, making her close her eyes.
"Now you look perfect."
"Thank you, oppa."
Her voice sounds a little dry after getting her throat used so often today.
You reach for her collar and pull Yujin to her feet. She moans loudly, feeling the anal hook move inside her ass, stretching her out even more.
"You like it when people use your ass, don't you?"
Yujin weakly nods.
You finally unlock the lock that kept her in place. Pulling at her chain, you guide Yujin towards the sink.
"There we go. It's time for you to enjoy your reward."
Your calm voice had it's desired effect on Yujin. She looks at you through the mirror at the prospect of a reward.
"Which is my cock in your ass."
Yujin doesn't have time to protest. You start to pull the anal hook out of her hole, making her moan and groan once again.
She doesn't stay empty for long. It only takes you a moment to use up the rest of the remaining lube.
"Oh, god."
She sighs weakly as you fill her up completely with only one stroke. Burying yourself deep inside of her, you lean over her body, whispering in her ear.
"I hope you learned your lesson. If not, this will be the new way of spending your free weekends."
"Yes, oppa. I did."
Her reply is cut short as Yujin feels you moving inside of her.
You're amazed at how tight she still is. For how long was her ass totally filled? Probably longer than five hours or something. It still feels as good as if you just pushed into her for the very first time. The tight ring of her muscles grips onto your cock as you thrust into her again and again.
Yujin can't do anything but look at herself through the mirror as her ass takes one last pounding. She's relieved that the day is finally over, that she can rest soon. And yet, she can't help but beg you to fuck her harder.
"Please, oppa. Give it to me hard. One last time."
You hold onto her waist, increasing your pace as you start to properly ruin Yujin's asshole.
She can feel your cock drag along her walls. How your tip reaches the deepest of places, how your hands dig into her flesh.
"Oppa..."
A small, almost lazy, orgasm washes over her.
Yujin doesn't even have enough energy to support her upper body anymore. She's is just lying on top of the sink, enjoying how you use her body for your own pleasure.
"Fuck, Yujin. I'm gonna fill you up."
"Yes, oppa."
Yujin looks at you through the mirror.
"Cum in my ass."
Her weak voice almost tempts you to grab her pigtails and properly ruin her one last time. But you acknowledge that she must be completely dead inside.
You enjoy her tight warmth for a little longer, until you can't hold it back anymore. Leaning over her again, you rest your head on her shoulder. Being buried deep inside her ass, you finally cum, filling her completely.
"Damn, your body is amazing, Yujin."
You don't get answer. Looking through the mirror, you make sure she didn't just fall asleep.
"How many?"
Her voice is barely above a whisper, when she finally speaks up.
"What?"
"How many men used me today?"
You plant a kiss on the back of her head.
"63."
---------
Hi, everyone!
The first story of December is here. I hope you enjoyed the read, there are four more fics to come. The length and quality of the next stories will increase (I hope) so that we have one big final for the last story.
Stay healthy!
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logansbaby · 2 days ago
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DIET PEPSI | Logan Howlett
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❄ summary: stuck in a place of unspoken desire and longing, the limousine drives only further ignite the spark between logan howlett and you. months of built up lust and emotions bubble over when you take control.
word count: 8.1k (im unable to write short smut scenes)
pairings: old man logan howlett x fem!reader
content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), masturbation, messy kissing, spitting (im so sorry but it’s my weakness), oral (fem!receiving), begging, humping, pussy pronouns (it’s sooooooo) unprotected sex, gagging? it’s just once, car sex, feelings, logan being self destructive, pet names (baby, honey, princess ITS CANON SOOOO) let me know if i missed anything!
❄ a/n: soooooooo
. this took forever im SO sorry! life is absolutely insane and chronic illnesses are not for the weak. anyways think of this as a gift from me to all you sexy people for 2k!!!!!!! thank you so much, i could kiss you all<3 i hope you enjoy, let me know what you think
â€”ËšïœĄâ‹†âŸĄâ™ĄâŸĄâ‹†ïœĄËš
‘When we drive in your car, I'm your baby (so sweet)
Losing all my innocence in the back seat
Say you love, say you love, say you love me (love me)
Losing all my innocence in the back seat’
Diet Pepsi - Addison Rae
â€”ËšïœĄâ‹†âŸĄâ™ĄâŸĄâ‹†ïœĄËš
TENSION simmers in the air of the limousine as the driver and passenger engage in a silent staring contest through the rearview mirror. The cool air blasting from the air vents does little to dismantle the heat bubbling in the small space.
Though nonchalance is painted on your face, a darker, seductive glint glimmers in your eyes, a challenge settling within them. You tilt your head, tongue slipping out to glisten your lips with saliva.
There's no shame evident in your gaze; your body is thrumming with pure, hot need and you could cry out with how bad you need the man in the driver's seat.
Logan isn't faring much better— fists gripping the steering wheel tight enough that his healing knuckles turn white, a frown etching deep in his features. He’s desperate to hold onto the tiny sliver of control he has left, mind working to come up with anything to keep him away from giving into this, into you.
This thing between you both started the minute you settled in the backseat of his limousine all those months ago and the unspoken desire has only grown since then.
It’s like there’s something tethering you to him— it’s why you keep coming back to him, calling for his car services despite the fact that your car has long since been fixed. You find yourself craving him, unable to think about anything but him in the early hours of the morning. No matter how many times you come thinking about him, the ache and desire for the man only grows. Though, you haven’t even had a taste.
Yet.
You won’t give in first, though. As much as you want to climb over the seat and suck his cock right then and there as he drives, you’ve held back, just barely, for months.
Logan is a man of very few words and he prefers actions to speaking his feelings. He’s shown you he’s softened to you in the way he hums to show you he’s listening to your rambles. He’s shown it in the way he shows up when you both know you don’t need his car anymore. He doesn’t say it, but you know he wants you as much as you want him, and you’ve been waiting for him to finally give in, to make you his.
As soon as you sat down tonight, fresh from the club, you knew something was bound to happen, especially with the way Logan’s been eying you the entire drive.
Which, it’s important to note that your destination leads to nowhere, you just craved to see the man that badly.
You lean back against the seat, eyes speaking a thousand words as they meet his once more. God, he’s so handsome. His pretty hazel eyes, the slope of his nose, the salt and pepper stubble stretching across his cheeks. Oh, how you want to feel the burn against your—
“Stop that.” Logan’s grunt snaps you from your thoughts.
“Stop what?” You go for innocence but really, your tone is saturated in lust and it gives you away entirely.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what, Logan?” You’re challenging him, and though you can’t see it from the backseat, his dress pants get considerably tighter at the defiance in your voice. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Bullshit,” He counters, eyes flickering to yours and you choose then to bite down on your glossy lips. His knuckles flex with the urge to release the claws piercing beneath his skin; is he crazy for being jealous that he’s not the one biting into the plush skin? “You’re staring at me like you want me to fuck you.”
Vermillion warmth spreads from your chest to your cheeks at his bluntness. It’s completely true, but the dirty truth makes you flush, and your panties to dampen at the thought.
“It’s not gonna happen, baby.” His tone is confident, sure and it pisses you off. “It’s not, so knock it off.”
You roll your eyes, turning to stare out the window. You’re not sure when it started raining, but the water droplets hit the glass pane harshly with its momentum. The pitter patter of water should distract you from Logan, but it just sends you further spiraling.
How dare he deny your feelings and then call you baby?
Blah, blah, blah! His reasons for keeping you apart are pathetic. You couldn’t careless for the years he has on you, you’re a grown woman, and fully capable of what you want. You don’t care what kind of a man he was before he met you; your feelings for him defeat any sense of logic your mind can muster.
You remember how it felt the first time you saw him. Wild, untamed butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach the moment Logan’s eyes met yours. You remember how your name sounded on his lips, a rough voice rendering chills across your skin.
That day had been a shitty one, your boss scolding you for tiny mistakes and everything had seemed to go wrong. Even more so when your car broke down and your then boyfriend refused to pick you up, instead sending you a link to a limousine service. You were sure nothing would get better from that point on.
But when you sat down in his car, Logan’s presence made you feel safe, and it wracked your brain as to why a stranger made you feel so comfortable.
Evidently, you kept calling the limo service (if you silently praised your ex for leading you to Logan, no one had to know).
You remember how you began looking forward to seeing him. You remember how talking with him, rambling on about whatever, felt normal. You remember how being in the vicinity of him felt like taking a breath of crisp, cool air after months of no oxygen.
Logan has picked you up from the bar, carried you up to your apartment door when you were too drunk to do it yourself. Logan has veered off course when your stomach audibly rumbled during a drive to work, insisting you needed to eat. He even grabbed you a milkshake when you told him how you dumped your ex.
He’s been there in every way that counts, but not close enough.
Somewhere along the way, you’ve become love sick, reduced to a yearning mess each time you see him, each time only furthering your feelings. All you want is for Logan to accept this spark between you and let you in, let you ease his troubles and care— because you do, so much.
And, you might want Logan’s dick deep inside you, his strong body hovering over yours as he fucks you dirty, hard, and rough.
“Whatever, Logan.” Huffing, your eyes roll to further showcase your opinion. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs and the action causes the tiny, black dress to slip further up your thighs.
And because Logan has a staring problem where you’re concerned, he sees the roll of your eyes, the expanse of thigh that’s showing. Whenever you’re like this, so unashamed of your need for him, it makes him want to let go of any morals. It makes him want to throw your legs over his shoulders and devour you, lick up the slick he knows is there. He’d like to finally shut your mouth up, finally stop those bratty comments as he fills you up.
Instead, he stays quiet and focuses on the empty road ahead. He can do this, resist your hazy eyes and luscious lips long enough until he gets you to your destination. The radio is switched on then, some pop song filtering through the vehicle in an attempt to lessen the thick, sexual strain permeating the air.
Though, that little action seems to unravel any little bit of control either of you have.
His indifference annoys you; here you are, adorned in a black, lacy dress that does nothing to cover your thighs and grips your curves deliciously. And, you even turned down an attractive man at the club in favor of having Logan pick you up; just the thought of him made you immune to another’s charm.
How embarrassing are you? Staying loyal to a man that has decided the course of your relationship without your input. You would’ve walked away if it were any other person, but you’ve seen the way he eyes you each time you get inside his car, seen the way his fingers go white as he grips the steering wheel, seen the way his cock goes hard at the sight of you.
And that’s when you decide you’re sick of this. Sick of Logan denying you both mind altering pleasure, sick of him pushing you away, sick of him deciding what’s best for you when you can make your own decisions.
A noisy clink! resounds as you unbuckle your seatbelt, and move towards the front of the car. You feel a prickling gaze at the side of your face as you fit yourself over the console, hand reaching to turn off the radio knob. You let your fingertips just barely graze Logan’s arm as you do so, and you’d think he’s unfazed had you not been so close to see the shudder rack through him, to hear the gruff inhale that has a shaky lilt.
In the corner of your eye, you see his mouth part, but before he can scold you, you remove yourself and land back against the cushion. If you’re going to do this, you want his entire attention on you, not some shitty song filtering through the radio station.
You adjust yourself, wiggling until you’re comfortable. Parting your thighs, you feel your confidence soar as you note how Logan’s eyes track your movements.
The dress is bunched up around the tops of your thighs and with the way your legs are open, stretched enough that your ankles lean against the opposite sides of the leather, the lacy thong is on display.
One hand trails down to the spot between your legs, where you’re slick and wet with want. You don’t touch yourself right away, instead petting the supple skin of your inner thighs. The other hand moves to caress your breasts as they threaten to spill from the confines of the dress. You sigh, a shiver racketing through you as nimble fingers brush your most sensitive spots with a mere graze.
“What are you—“ Logan starts, but you cut him off because you’re in charge here, not him.
“Shut up, Logan.” You’re trying to sound stern but with the way you’re softly petting your nipples through the fabric, it’s more breathy than authoritative.
“Fuck,” Logan spits out, trying really hard to not crash but it’s proving to be a bit impossible with the way he can see you teasing yourself. What’s worse is the fact that the intoxicating scent of your pussy is assaulting his senses. He feels high on your smell, on the way he watches through the mirror as you pinch your chest. “Fuck.”
“You know
” You start, but it’s interrupted by a sudden inhale as you finally touch your tender clit through the thin material, pads rubbing softly until that familiar, hot feeling fills your stomach. “I wish I stayed at the club a little longer.”
“Is that right?” If your eyes were open, you’d see how unhinged and feral the man looks. The skin of his knuckles split open as his claws peak out.
A whimper rings loud into Logan’s ears and fuck, that angelic noise will haunt him for the rest of his fucking life. His eyes snap back to see you slowly rolling your hips into your hands, fingers playing with your clit lazily.
“Mhmm, I shouldn’t have called you. Not when you constantly ignore me.” You whine, spreading your legs further apart than before, feeling a rush you’ve never felt before blossom across your entire body at the show you’re putting on. “You pretend there’s nothing here, you pretend you don’t want me, and it pisses me off.”
He’s trying so incredibly hard to force the words ‘knock it off and cover yourself up’ out, but he can’t.
He can’t when it’s the furthest thing from what he actually wants. He can faintly see the wet spot on your underwear, and he wants to scream at you to remove the material all together— he’s that desperate to see your puffy, pretty cunt glisten in all its glory.
“I don’t ignore you, baby.” It’s grunted out, the pain of his claws only aiding in his desire as his cock grows uncomfortably stiff in his pants. “But I can’t give you what you want.”
Another roll of your eyes sends a shiver down Logan’s aching back. Oh, if you don’t knock it off, he’s going to make you cry as he fucks you dumb.
Happy thoughts
 Logan thinks.
“There was this guy in the club.” By the tiny smirk on your lips, he knows he shouldn’t take the bait. He knows you’re trying to push him, trying to get him to let go and take what you both desire. He knows he shouldn’t fall for it.
Too bad hes never been good at listening.
“What?”
The lethal, cold depth of his voice has your eyes flying open and you have the audacity to fucking moan. You’re usually not this
 bold? Perhaps Logan just turns you into a feral, needy thing.
“Yeah, he was cute too!” You hum, bubbles of laughter tumbling from bitten lips at the way Logan stares at you, at how he gives you a warning look. “He offered to by me a drink, said he wanted to dance.”
“He’s a dick.”
“No, he said I’m pretty.”
“You are pretty.” It’s angry, the way he forces it out, not because it’s untrue, but because the idea of another man trying to make a move on you, his girl, sends anger boiling beneath his skin.
“He was nice, I don’t know why I bothered to turn him down.” It’s through a moan, the way the words are murmured because your fingers are now rubbing circles over your sex in a motion that has your hips jolting, legs shaking, and lips shiny with spit as you bite at them.
“He’s an asshole, only wants one thing from you.”
“I don’t care, what if I want only one thing from him too?”
“Careful.” He practically growls, the limousine swerving slightly before he gets control over the wheel again.
He’s not sure when you’ve become so fucking obscene, but he aches to bend you over the hood of the car and teach you a lesson. He’s so overwhelmed with the turn of events, of how so many feelings jump about beneath his ribcage.
He knows he’s been pushing you away, ignoring the connection you have, but fuck? The knowledge you can slip away from him at any moment makes him feel agonized.
“Jealous?” You taunt, the material of your underwear darker with the slick pooling there and you both know Logan can see it.
“No.”
“I gave him my number, you know.” It's spoken so nonchalantly that a snarl threatens to escape deep from Logan’s throat. “He said to call if I need anything
”
“Watch it,” it’s calmly muttered, but Logan’s anything but. He’s torn between actually focusing on the road and watching your fingers roll your clit in the rear view mirror. That, and anger rolls off him in thick, daunting waves because of a man he doesn’t even know.
You’ve got him wrapped around your pretty finger and he’s a fool to think anything else. He’s a fool to think he’s been successful in the suppression of his feelings.
“Maybe I should call him,” You suggest, your hand slipping beneath the sodden mesh and finally touching your clit properly. “He was hot.”
Logan’s so wrapped up in your euphoric face and honeyed voice that he’s struggling to remember why he’s so riled up.
“Stop tryna piss me off. You’re on my last fuckin’ nerve.” He’s stern, but you just smile wide and slip the pads of your fingers down to swipe up the arousal dripping from your hole, your whiny pants making his spine go rigid.
“I’m not doing anything, Logan.”
“Bullshit. Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s not gonna work. This can’t happen.”
He’s trying so hard to convince himself as much as you. His words don’t bother you though, because the smile on your face morphs into a satisfied smirk.
“You don’t want me?” You challenge, and you stare him down as your fingers retreat from your cunt. You lift your hand up to your mouth, never once looking away as you stick them past your lips and suck.
Your body jolts when the car swerves wildly, but instead of fear, blistering lust fills you and burns your cheeks. Logan looks so incredibly distraught with how your lips wrap around your fingers, a soft ‘hmmm’ falling from you at the taste of desire blooming across your tastebuds.
“Shit, honey. Of course I want you. You don’t know how bad I need you.”
“Please.” You cry out, voice high and dripping with want. Your fingers part from your wandering tongue, traveling down the path of your curves to find your pussy again. “Please, please—“
“No.”
“Logan!” You’re so overwhelmed with your blatant need for the man that actual tears pool at your lashes.
“No.”
“And why the fuck not?”
“Don’t give me attitude.” He commands and you must be sick because the stern, finality of his tone has your hole clenching around nothing. “You know why.”
“—oh my god, Logan. Not this again, the ‘I’m not a good guy,’ and ‘I’m too old for you’ is absolute shit! I don’t care, I want you to fuck me.”
You’re so forthright that he can’t be blamed with how his stomach churns with intense hunger.
“You deserve so much more, more than I can give you.”
Logan seems to forget that as much as he’s come to know you, you’ve also picked up on his own habits. So, you know he’s full of shit by the twitch of his hands on the wheel, the tightening of his lips, the way he’s staring at you like a man starved.
“You know what? Fine, that’s fine. I’ll just call Nate and—“
“Who?” The cold note in his words should scare you, but it just sends another wave of slick to seep down your thighs.
“Nate! The guy from the club,” you say, one hand reaching for the phone hidden in your purse, and the other rubbing slow circles on your neglected clit. The mixture of your spit and wetness is noisy as you rub yourself, the sound driving Logan fucking insane.
“I told you, the guy sounds like a dick. The fuck kind of name is that?” Logan’s patience is running out and you both know it, the string tearing with each tug you give. His eyes widen when you wiggle the phone in his eyeline.“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”
“Why? At least he was willing to fuck me.”
And, oh.
You’re not sure what causes you to say that, but the atmosphere turns tense, filling with anticipation, something dark and dangerous enough that chills run across your exposed skin.
It’s silent. Astonishingly silent as Logan tears his gaze from you, his eyes only forward now. You don’t back down; you know you’re driving the man crazy and it feels fucking good.
Without tearing your eyes from him, you hit the call button.
The sound of the phone dialing has Logan snapping. The car tires screech loudly as Logan slams on the breaks, yanking the wheel to pull of to the side of the road.
Your hands fly out to catch yourself from the swift, jerky motion. A sense of accomplishment bubbles inside your chest when Logan shuts the car off, his body frantic and quick before he’s out the driver's door.
You’re jittery with nerves, despite the fact you were just rubbing your clit like a madwoman in front of him. You were tempting him, sure. But now that he’s finally snapped, you’re nervous.
You gasp as chilly air hits you in the face when the back door opens. In an instant, he’s in the back with you, slamming the door shut. His presence is so intimidating and powerful that you shiver, arousal licking at your back as he crowds into your space.
He glares at you, and just as about you’re about to speak, a rough, large hand grips your chin tightly. He squeezes your cheeks, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. His other hand yanks the phone from your fingers and chucks the device in the front seat.
“So fucking stubborn and bratty, always fucking pushing me. Never stop talking, do you?”
“I’ll have you kno—“
Logan slams his mouth onto yours then, effectively shutting you the fuck up.
It’s like fireworks are set off in your stomach, a trickle of mind numbing pleasure tingling every inch of you. You’ve imagined this moment for months, wondered how it’d feel, but nothing your imagination conjured up could ever compare to the real thing.
Logan’s kisses are passionate, eager. He lifts your entire body into his lap in one, quick motion. The causal display of his sheer strength causes your body to melt into him. Your choked gasp is swallowed by his lips, his tongue licking at yours and oh, the wetness of it sends a wave of flutters straight to your cunt.
His mouth is harsh, the scruff of his beard scratching at your chin with a tasteful burn. His rough hand leaves your thigh to snake into your hair, wrapping the strands around his fingers until a messy ponytail forms. Without warning, he tugs firmly to pull you from his mouth.
He watches as your eyes fly open, as a string of saliva connects from his lips to yours. He feels pride thrum within his chest as you try to lean in immediately, chasing the taste of him, his kiss, his tongue.
Logan doesn’t allow you though, yanking at your hair to keep you in place.
“Not speaking now, are you?” Logan grunts out, tugging your head back so he can lick a hot, wet stripe up the expanse of your neck. He sucks at the skin there, hips threatening to thrust up at the moans spilling from your open mouth. “Finally found a way to keep you fuckin’ quiet.”
“Logan—“ you start, mind cloudy with the overwhelming feeling of his wet mouth on your skin, but he just smashes his lips on yours again.
And holy fuck, the way he’s kissing you, like he’s been starved of a meal and you’re the only thing edible, like he can’t get enough of your taste, has your panties growing even wetter. You snake your arms around Logan’s neck tightly, hips swiveling down in his lap so you can rub yourself over his bulge.
Your moan tangles with the surprised groan from Logan when your center grinds down on his cock, the feeling indescribable, utterly intoxicating and above all— right. It feels so fucking right.
His hand releases your hair in favor of grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing, guiding your hips as he licks at the roof of your mouth.
Its almost embarrassing how riled up you are with just kissing and humping, but you can’t be blamed, not really. Not with the way Logan’s dragging your cunt along his hard cock as he sucks your tongue— it’s so fucking good that his pants are wet with your lust, even through your panties and his pants.
When you finally pull back, it’s with his bottom lip tucked between your teeth, enticing a hiss from the man as you bite down. You lose your hands in his messy hair, tugging until his eyes open and fuck— his pupils are huge, dark with need for you.
Cradling his cheeks, you release and lick at his lip, soothing the sting your teeth left. You startle as Logan thrusts up in reaction, the head of him tapping your clit, and despite the barriers between you, it feels fucking amazing.
Logan catches your lips in a messy, slick embrace. There’s no gentleness, only pure sensuality leading his bruising kisses. You get so wrapped up in the pleasure of Logan’s mouth on yours, his cock rutting into your clothed center so delectably, that time is lost.
When you push Logan’s face away, it’s because your lungs burn with the need for oxygen.
Logan’s unfazed, lips moving down your throat and leaving wet kisses across your neck. You’re sucking in oxygen desperately, hands shaky as they stroke up and down Logan’s back. You want to remember every inch of him, that’s how addicting it is to touch his skin.
“Fuck, I can smell you.” He mutters against your collarbone, rough hands roaming all over your body, as if he needs to memorize the feel of you.
“Yeah?”
You’re a fucking mess— hands wrappped tightly around the back of his neck, leaving scratches that stay for longer than they would’ve decades prior, and you’re still rolling your hips in his lap, trying and failing to ease the ache in your cunt. It only further intensifies the achy throbbing with each grind of restless hips.
“Smells so fuckin’ sweet. Gonna let me have a taste, baby?”
“Yes! Please, Logan, please.” You’re far too gone, too drunk on the feel of his lips on your chest to care how pathetic you sound.
You lean back, grabbing Logan’s face to meet yours, sighing softly as your wet lips melt together once more. He groans, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair, tugging hard as he turns your head any way he pleases, using you. It’s then you realize you’d let him do anything to you.
You’re not sure how much time passes as Logan devours your mouth, it could be mere minutes or hours, but you’ve been too tangled up in his to care. What you do know is that you feel as though you’re going to explode if you don’t relieve the pressure in your pussy soon.
You’re whining, pawing at Logan’s chest and rubbing your wetness on the pant of his thigh, trying to get the man to touch you moremoremore.
But Logan’s too occupied with sucking on your tongue and biting your bottom lip meanly. He uses the grip he has on your hair to keep you there, rendered useless as he messily kisses you breatheless.
“Logan, Logan, Logan.” You moan and even though it’s mumbled into his own lips, he hears you all the same. “Need you. Please.”
And then, it’s like Logan’s realizing the current situation— you, a whimpering mess and rubbing your cunt along his lap as your spit soaked lips mesh with his own in a delicious, salacious embrace. You, who he knows he can’t afford to lose, and if he continues touching you, you’ll fade away like everything else good in his life.
He pushes your face back, but makes no move to remove your weight from his body. A frown settles over your blissed out features, dread replacing the butterflies fluttering about inside you.
“Logan?”
“You don’t want this.” He’s refusing to look at you, his hazel eyes blown out with pleasure wondering around the interior of the limousine as if he hasn’t seen it before.
“I do. I want this. I want you.” You cradle his bearded face in your hands, thumbs caressing the prickly grays scattered across his cheeks. “I do.”
“No, baby. You don’t, you deserve so much better—“
His words are lost in the air as you connect your swollen lips with his. You bully your tongue inside, swiping along his, sighing when his hips buck up at your boldness. The action has his cock rutting your covered clit in such an angle that you could probably come just like that.
“Can’t you feel how badly I want you?” You whisper, peppering sweet kisses along his cheeks, nose, eyelids. Staring into his eyes, so muddled with conflict and something sweeter, you kiss him again.
“Shit,” he groans into your mouth, tongues dancing in a pace that has you dizzy, whimpering inside mouth as your lace covered mound ruts at his thigh. “Can’t baby. You deserve someone better, not some old fucking man who’s done more harm than good.”
“I don’t need better, I need you.” You emphasize the point by grabbing his hand and shoving them down your panties.
A symphony of your shared moans ricochets through the small space; you, at the feel of his rough, thick fingers finally touching your slit. Logan, at the feel of your sweet, sweet arousal soaking your cunt slippery.
He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to find any excuse as to why he should push you away when kissing you, touching you feels this fucking good. Even as his brain works, his fingers tease your fluttering hole and collect your wetness and dragging it to your clit.
“See? I need you, please. Logan, please.”
You stare up at him, eyes wide with so many feelings that cause his heart to pump faster and his cock to jerk.
He seals his fate then and there— Logan’s sick and tired of all the bad in his life, and he doesn’t know much, but what he does know is that you make him feel like he’s good, like he’s fated for something other than drowning in whiskey. And he’s sick of denying himself of you.
“Fuck it.” He mutters, eyes on your lips before melting into you, lips meshing together wetly.
Your moan is loud and sweet, hands leaving his face in favor of gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the crisp white of the fabric there.
He pulls back, ignoring the need washing over him at the mewl falling from you at the sudden removal of him.
“Shh, baby.” He soothes, a large hand finding purchase on your chin, his fingers teasing your lips and rubbing the saliva there. “Open up.”
The quickness at which you obey him makes him want to impale you with his cock then, but he just barely restrains. Your lips are parted, tongue peaking out and waiting; the picture you paint will be a reoccurring dream for him, forever.
Logan leans over you before spitting onto your tongue, watching as the saliva glistens in your mouth. You gasp, the act so incredibly dirty and carnal that you shiver in his lap.
“Swallow.” He commands, squeezing your cheeks together, nearly getting lost in the dazed, euphoric look in your eyes. And you do, because of course you do. ”Atta girl.”
A sob nearly escapes you at that you’re so turned on beyond belief that you’ll burst into tears if Logan doesn’t fuck you soon.
Almost like he can read your mind, he moves you around until your back hits the cool, chilly leather of the seat. He settles himself on the floor of the limousine before you, ignoring the aches he feels stinging his lower back. The pain lingering in his bones becomes a background noise when he looks at you— as if just one look from you heals wounds deep within him.
Logan runs his hands along your legs slowly, teasingly as he presses a kiss on your upper thigh.
“Been dreaming of this pussy for so long.” He starts, leaning until your covered mound is warm with his breath. You’re trembling, suspense hot in your stomach as you wait for him to do something. “Everytime you get in the car, I can smell you. And everytime, I want to fucking eat you out.”
“Logan, please.” You cry out, his filthy words making you dizzy with desire.
And seeing you, someone who’s so unabashedly themselves and talkative be reduced to a withering mess, has a grin threatening to grace his face.
“I got you, baby. Gonna take care of you.”
And he does.
Logan presses a soft, barely there kiss to your lace covered slit before licking a slow, warm path from your hole to your aching clit.
“Oh my god!” You cry out, thighs trying and failing to clench closed as Logan’s hands keep them spread open. He groans at your taste, the hint of something so entirely you.
He grabs each thigh and wraps them around his neck before pulling the sodden material aside with his thumb to finally expose your pussy to him.
And at the sight of your cunt glistening with slick, with unsuppressed desire, makes him fucking lose it.
“She’s so wet, fucking dripping everywhere,” groans, and it takes your muddled brain a second before realizing he’s talking about your pussy.
A moan falls from you, deep from your chest and full of need and hunger as Logan’s tongue swirls over your slit, dipping into your dripping hole. He’s messy as he eats you out, completely driven by a primal urge to completely devour you in the most intimate sense. His movements are rash, his appetite stronger than anything else.
Logan leans back a bit, eyes flickering to yours to ensure you’re focused on him before he spits directly onto your pussy.
A gasp sounds, your chest heaving at the warmth of his saliva coating your center, and it’s so dirty, so insanely hot that it only causes more slick seeps from you.
Logan leans back, ignoring your whine as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy wide open, your sex bare to him. Its obscene, the way he stares at the mixture of saliva and slick glistening your slit. It’s a sight, your cunt crying for him and clenching around nothing as your hips try to buck at his mouth.
Logan laps it all up, tongue flat as he greedily licks up and down your sex. And you’re losing it— not only is his tongue fucking you, going as deep as he can, but Logan’s nose is also bumping against your clit with each thrust of his mouth. Warmth swarms in your stomach and your thighs shake with a promise of an orgasm in the distance.
“Feels so good!” You manage, your hips thrusting up into his face.
You were right— the beard feels fucking amazing rubbing mean and unforgiving against the sensitive skin of your thighs, against your slit.
“Tastes so good, the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” Logan moans, replacing his tongue with two fingers. His cock hardens even more with the way your cunt swallows his fingers right away, your warm, wet walls squeezing around them.
That familiar burn swelters in your pelvis, pure heat sizzling through your veins and for a moment, you forget to breathe. It gets worse when Logan suddenly wraps his swollen lips around your puffy clit and sucks.
The pleasure of it all is so sudden that it smothers you entirely— your back arches off the leather, your pussy convulsing as Logan’s fingers and tongue work you to an orgasm quicker than you ever have before.
“Logan, Logan.” You pant, hands tugging the graying tufts of hair, and you’re unsure if you’re trying to push him impossibly closer and away at the same time.
He only releases his suction on your clit when tears prickle your eyes, when you shake on his fingers from the stimulation of it all. He gently places a kiss to your clit, smiling when you jolt. His lips travel along your sweaty thighs, hands stroking your calves as you struggle to breathe.
“That’s it, honey. I got you.”
“Come here,” is all you have the strength to muster, needing his lips on yours instead of your trembling thighs.
Logan obliges, because if you asked him to get you the moon, he’d do his damn hardest to get it.
“Hi,” you whisper once he’s level with you, body slotted between your limp one. Your arms move without your knowledge, wrapping comfortably around his nape.
“Hi, baby.” His voice is deeper, almost as if he’s completely blissed out on the taste of your pussy and come.
It’s then you see how insane he looks— his chin, lips, and the tip of his nose is wet, completely soaked with you. His eyes are wild, hazy with need and his hair is messy from wandering fingers. He looks so incredibly handsome right now, in your arms, covered in you that you can’t be blamed for the moan that escapes.
You tug him close, lips locking in a newly familiar kiss. The taste of you envelopes over your tongue as you lick along his mouth, a satisfied hum vibrating from your lips to his.
What starts as a sweet, lazy kiss turns heated quickly, and though you’ve just come, your sex aches to be filled. It’s a mess of tongues and saliva, teeth clashing as your lips interlock and wrap around one another.
Your hands begin to unbutton his shirt, marveling at the feel of muscle that’s revealed with each pop of a button. You shrug the fabric off and grab at his shoulders, nails digging into the skin and trailing down to the middle of his back.
“Fuck!” Logan groans, biting your bottom lip as you scratch at him.
Instead of responding, you push at his chest until he falls into the seat across yours before throwing yourself in his lap again. You’re crazed, an unsatisfied hunger clinging to every inch of you and threatening to overtake your senses.
“Always so damn bossy.” He’s taunting you, but with the way his dick jolts as you yank your dress off, you know you’ve got him right where you want him.
You gaze at him, guiding his hands from your hips to your chest, urging him to take off your bra.
Logan’s too impatient to actually remove the fabric though, because he simply pulls at the cups until they give way to the pressure and your breasts pool over the band.
“So fuckin’ pretty.” He groans, leaning down and taking a pebbled nipple between his lips. You whine as he sucks, his fingers rubbing and pulling your other nipple. He switches his attention between both for a while and desire pools in your stomach, heat tingles across your skin, and you can’t wait any longer.
With quick hands, you work to undo his buckle before yanking down his boxers and dress pants in one motion, leaving them in a mess at his ankles. Logan releases your chest in favor of watching you nearly drool at his cock.
He’s huge. The tip is flushed, red and swollen, dripping pearly white bubbles from the slit. His shaft is thick with veins leading down to a patch of short, curled hair at the base. Even in the dim light of the limousine, you note how the vein on his lower stomach connects to the ones decorating his cock. Fuck, you suddenly want to feel the heaviness of him on your tongue and you’d ignore your own needs to choke on the entirety of him. You crave his taste, his come, and—
“Next time, baby.” Logan startles you from your filthy thoughts, and you actually whine at his words. “As much as I’d like to fuck your pretty mouth, I need to be inside you.”
And despite the fact that the man has eaten you out and stolen an orgasm already, you flush with warmth.
Logan finds you amusing, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock and yanking you until your hole is kissing his tip. Your hips move forward, and a whole body shiver wracks through you when your clit brushes his shaft.
“C’mon, princess. Show me how bad you want it.” He emphasizes his taunt with a squeeze of your waist, his lips brushing yours. “Not so cocky now, huh?”
With a glare, you push his hand away and wrap yours around his cock, guiding it to your wet, slick hole. Logan merely raises an eyebrow as your other hand grips his shoulder to lift yourself up enough. Without warning, you sink down onto the the tip of him, nails digging into his shoulder at the overwhelming feel bubbling over you.
“Fuck,” Logan growls, head leaning forward onto your shoulder as you squeeze around him purposefully, cunt sucking him down bit by bit as you lower yourself, only stopping when he fills you to the brim.
“Not so cocky now, huh?” You huff, a grin on your flushed face as you repeat his previous words back at him.
Logan doesn’t respond, to focused on not coming immediately— you’re so fucking tight, so wet and warm that he’s struggling.
The stretch is painful, but not unpleasant as you adjust to his size. When the burn fades away and instead comes a delicious thrum, you unleash.
You lift your hips up, enticing a broken moan from Logan as you move up and slam back down in slow, articulated motions.
“Feel so good, baby. So good.”
“Yeah?” You say, hands creeping into his hair to pull each time his tip brushes that spot inside you.
“Yeah.” The kiss he presses to your cheek makes your heart flutter, an act so pure in the midst it all.
You continue your torturous pace, pride warming your chest when Logan’s hands tighten on your hips, urging you to go faster.
You could go faster, but you like the way Logan looks like he’s struggling to suck in oxygen each time his cock returns to your hole.
You catch his mouth in an open, wet kiss. He grunts, and before you can even think, Logan moves his hips upwards and you cry out.
Oh.
Oh.
Suddenly, Logan’s stripped you of control and thrusts his cock deep inside you in quick, harsh movements. You’re fucking dripping, desire slicking your thighs and Logan’s. He feels so good and he’s so deep and he’s holding you in place so you have no choice but to take it, take the assaulting pace he’s set.
“Shit,” Logan grits out, arms tightly wrapped around your midsection as he fucks you from below. “This is what you wanted?”
You’re so overcome with euphoria, so deeply gone in the waves of pleasure, that you can only nod. Each time he’s fucks up into you, his pubic bone brushes your swollen, pulsing clit in a delicious graze that has tears gathering at your lash line.
“This is what you wanted? For me to fuck you dumb?” He mutters between clenched teeth, his hips moving in a deadly way now. “You just wanted to be fucking full of me, huh?”
“Yes!” You mewl, mouth falling onto his as your tongues messily swirl around, moans and groans mixing with the wet kisses.
The pressure building in your abdomen is almost too much, teasing you each time his cock slams inside. Despite being as close as physically possible, you ache to be closer.
You stop Logan, lifting yourself off him with a hiss. The sudden absence of him leaves you feeling uncomfortably empty and unconsciously, your hole clenches as wetness drips from you and onto the leather seats.
“What’s wro—“ you cut him off by pushing him until he’s laying back on the long seat. Once he’s settled down, as shock paints his expression, you climb shakily back onto his lap.
Sighs of relief echo through the air as your cunt sucks him down and a filthy squelch sounds. With him like this, he’s somehow deeper. You’re so incredibly full, it feels unreal.
The tingling, sweltering sensation in your cunt has you grinding across his lap, the base of his cock rubbing your clit delicately.
“Fuck. Doin so good for me.” Logan bends an arm behind his head so he can watch the way your eyes roll back with each grind, the way your tits jostle with each thrust and hump. “That’s it, baby.”
His praise has you finding a delicious, intoxicating rhythm as you lift up and down, up and down. The ridges and veins of his shaft kiss your walls and your thighs tremble with the feeling. Your hands reach back and grip your asscheeks to pull them apart further, needing his cock to go even deeper.
Logan is enamored by the sight before him— his pretty girl desperately splitting her cunt onto his cock, eyes rolling back with spit-slicked lips resembling an ‘o’.
His hand wraps around your throat tightly, pulling you down until your chest is flush against his. The action has you clumsy, arms swinging out to grip whatever is nearest to steady yourself. He places both hands across your ass and lifts you like you weigh nothing, mimicking your previous thrusts with more force, more speed.
A harmony of ‘uh, uh’s’ filter through his ears as Logan uses you and fucks you down onto his cock. You’re a whining mess, latching onto him tightly as his hips start to thrust upwards, his hands slamming your hips back down.
Suddenly, he wishes that he had his phone close because seeing you like this is a sight he wants to capture forever.
“C’mon, baby. Can feel how close you are.” He grits out between thrusts. One hand leaves your ass to cradle your slackened jaw, gripping tight enough as he forces your eyes on his.
Logan pushes his thumb past your lips and a deep moan falls from him as you suck at his finger. With your gaze never leaving his, you mimic a blowjob as you suck and swirl your tongue along his thumb.
“Mine.” Logan moans, his digit pressing down onto your tongue. He feels a sick sense of pleasure envelope him as you gag at the pressure, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “My fuckin’ girl.”
You nod instantly, a sweet, gooey feeling spreading across your chest at his words, at his voice. You pathetically grind down as Logan fucks upward, spit glistening your lips and his thumb as you messily suck on him.
An overbearing urge to get you to climax surges within him, and he sighs mockingly when you groan as his thumb slips from the confines of your pretty mouth. With a new vigor, Logan fucks you harder, faster, dirtier. He slips a hand between your sweaty bodies and when his fingers swirl over your clit, you explode.
The roughness of his hips, the precision of his fingertips on your clit, and the intensity of the moment catches up with you and you’re coming abruptly. It’s intense, the way a maddening bliss coats your entire body and soul. It leaves you breathless and dizzy as your eyes prickle with spots along your vision.
You’re moaning, words unintelligible against the warmth of Logan’s chest, and your cunt squeezes around him in sharp, sporadic pulses.
Logan’s so close to losing it and you don’t even realize it, too busy trying to inhale oxygen into greedy lungs. Huffs tumble from you, but instead of really trying to breathe, you lift your face to pepper wet, open mouthed kisses across his torso and that does it for him.
“Fuck
” Logan moans, gutteral and rough as he slams your hips down onto his cock, his cock painting your walls with come as euphoria encompasses him entirely. “Fuck, baby.”
Your body feels like it’s on fire— clit throbbing with overstimulation as Logan’s cock continues to fill you to the brim with his orgasm. Tears of pleasure have spilled over the apples of your cheeks, the strands of your hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face.
You continue to gently kiss up his chest and neck before you move to hold Logan’s face. Eyes fill with astonishment as you take in the way his eyes roll with the aftershocks of his peak. Thumbing at his cheeks, you kiss his lips gently before pressing kisses all along his face. His cheeks, the slope of his nose, his chin, forehead, and even the furrow of his brows.
You don’t even notice Logan staring at you with complete adoration until he removes your hand to kiss your palm.
You smile at him, bashful even with his softening cock is still inside you, stuffing you full of his come.
“C’mere.” He says, pulling you close until your lips melt over one another’s in a sweet, passionate kiss.
With a sudden thought, you pull away and fix him with a stern stare. Unfortunately for you, the furrow of your brows and purse of your lips only causes his heart to beat faster beneath the adamantium ribcage. You just look so pretty right now, sitting atop of him breathless and sweaty, a glaze settled over your irises.
“What's that face for?” His brow is raised and a smile is teasing his swollen lips.
“No more pushing me away, Logan.”
His gaze softens then, reminded of his self sabotage and the way he’s been adamant in keeping you at arms length, despite his yearn for more, his need for you.
“No more pushing you away, baby.” His lips meet yours softly, finality in his tone that eases your worries and wandering thoughts.
You lay your head down in the crook of his neck and hug him, intent to never let him go. Logan’s heart clenches with an emotion he’s not quite yet ready to face, so instead he presses a kiss to your hairline as his fingers stroke your back.
The atmosphere is no longer tense, but rather peaceful as every single desire has finally been satiated to the point of calmness. Eventually, he knows he’ll have to pull away from you and actually drive you home (and he will be coming inside, he can’t wait to properly fuck you in your bed), but he wants to stay in your embrace a little longer. It’s a blissful moment, and the serenity of it is something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.
“Logan?” You whisper, tired as you rub your nose along his neck.
“Yeah, honey.”
“I didn’t give that guy my number
 I actually told him to fuck off.”
And when you say it with a slightly guilty tone, a laugh rumbles deep from his chest. He doesn’t care, because that little white lie caused him to finally say fuck it and allow you both to have each other, after months of built up tension and horribly hidden feelings.
The feeling you erupt in his chest is foreign and it scares him— but with the weight of you in his arms, he knows he’ll do anything to keep you.
ËšïœĄâ‹†âŸĄâ™ĄâŸĄâ‹†ïœĄËš fin
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ma7moudgaza2 · 1 day ago
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How can I help my family in Gaza?
I am Mahmoud, a resident of northern Gaza. Since the war started, everything that touches a decent life has disappeared, and everything has become a mess.
I woke up in the morning and found that I had to stand in line for drinking water so that my family and I could have some.
I woke up in the morning and realized that I had to wake up before dawn to get in line for bread.
War, destruction, and killing,
The next morning, I had to make a fateful decision; should we stay in the house we were in or leave it? My whole family had to evacuate because the occupation issued evacuation orders for our residential area, and I didn’t know what was right or wrong

Eventually, we left our homes, our belongings, and all our sweet memories, and we went wherever the army ordered us. After a while, the situation calmed down in our area.
I woke up to the sound of a phone call, "We reached your house after the army withdrew," but we didn’t find the house, nor did we find your family’s house.
I didn’t sleep that day; I sat with myself, wishing I could find time to mourn my life. My phone rang, "Come on, Mahmoud, let’s eat together." But Mahmoud had no money left! We spent everything; how could I go without food?
I woke up after 200 days of war, talked to my mom: "Mom, I want to look for internet and electricity to go back to work and support you, or I’ll stay with you to fill water and manage food." My mom said, "No, go, my son, the important thing is that you return to work."
I woke up after that; my mom went out to fill water, and my heart was breaking, but I had to get up and find a place to go back to work for her.
I managed to get a laptop from your support and found a place with electricity and internet at such a time because it was almost impossible. I also got a new tent, and things went well, thank God. However, at this time, everything turned back to how it was before; prices rose again, and famine returned amid the closure of crossings. Everything became worse than before; you can’t even provide for your daily expenses to the point that two or three days can pass without eating bread. Sometimes you manage with rice, bulgur, or lentils, but for how long?
How many mornings do we have left in this life? We don’t know.
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The question is: dear reader, will you wake up to the disaster we are in? Will you realize that we truly need financial and moral support to be able to continue?
You can donate here
https://gofund.me/8044910a
My campaign is now $21,439 of the short goal of $25,000 We are still a long way off but I trust you guys to help us before we collapse
Or via paypal
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pseudowho · 1 day ago
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"--n'then...n'then we put on our Welly boots and we put on our skirts and then we're explorer-dancers and we go, go, go--"
Your daughter led Yuuji for his next great adventure; he followed gladly, for being big brother was preferable to any mission. You sank into the relief of being ignored.
Moments passed, and you felt Kento approach behind you, feigning snores into your shoulder and crushing you against the kitchen counter. He chuckled as you reached back to pinch his hips.
You smiled into your tea, leaning back for a morning-coffee-breath kiss.
"Morning handsome."
"Not handsome," Kento rumbled, his voice scratchy, "scruffy." You hummed to yourself, closing your eyes against the curling steam from your mug.
Despite the random noise vomit coming from your daughter, some obnoxious children's morning TV show, and the bustle and the clatter, this was peace.
There was something odd to your daughter's noise vomit, though. Something strange; her series of squeals, grunts, deep rumbles and tiny screams, told the tale of a bunny rabbit being chased by some enormous bear. You frowned. You whispered back to Kento.
"What on earth is she doing?"
"Don't ask questions. Just take the break. You know what she's li--"
"Hey, baby," you chirped, your daughter stopping her odd noises and looking up from her colouring, "those are some funny noises."
"Heard them!" She piped, her tongue between her lips as she surveyed her pens for the right shade of green. You waited for her to elaborate, and she did, "From yours and daddy's room, last night."
You felt yourself pale at the edges, and almost choked on your tea. Kento was washing dishes behind you, and you heard him fumble a glass into the sink.
Yuuji didn't look up from his colouring, but mused aloud, "Huh, I didn't hear that. Just lots and lots of thumping nois--"
Yuuji gasped, a filthy gasp, his jaw dropping and his head snapping up to look at you and Kento with absolute outrage. He clapped his hands over your daughters' ears, as if to prevent her from hearing any further debauchery.
You sunk your face onto your arms, feeling steam rise off the top of your head. The silence was thick.
"You and daddy should play quietly," your daughter mused, mulish and sage, "I am very sleepy this morning."
"Don't worry, darling," Kento toned, his face and voice carefully schooled, "I'll get your mummy a gag--"
"Shut up Kento, I'll get you a muzzle--"
Yuuji all but shouted, shooting to his feet, "Hey, how about we go to the park, huh, kiddo? Just me and you!"
Your daughter squealed with delight, abandoning her pens to dart to the door for her coat. Yuuji fumbled past the kitchen counter, pearl-clutching with his nose in the air.
"And--and you two-- you should think about what you've done," Yuuji scolded. You felt Kento vibrate with mirth, with his face hidden in your shoulders. You hung your head, truly mortified, and Yuuji continued, finger-wagging, "Disgusting-- get a room--"
"--we were in our room, Yuuji--"
"--shut up-- horrible-- gross-- ugh!"
Yuuji swept out of the door with a slam. Your daughters' voice faded into the distance. You felt Kento's hand slip up under your shirt, moaning into your neck as he found your breasts.
"Does this mean we can be louder now?"
"You're never touching me again, Kento, I'm chaste forevermore--"
"--alright...after this one."
A silence. Another hand coming up to slip beneath your panties, and you shivered, huffing.
"...alright. Just once more. Then chaste, forevermore."
"Sure. Absolutely."
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comicaurora · 6 hours ago
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Recently with Arcane ending and the backlash/critics the second season received I've come to feel like it's even harder to start writing and creating art (as in, "if even people on that level aren't perfect, what chance do I have of making something truly good?"). How do you deal with this feeling, to start creating, knowing all the mistakes you're gonna have to make?
Well that's an interesting question. I think Arcane is actually a really good example for this. Because as far as I can tell, everything Arcane did with its story was, from the creators' perspective, a success.
I didn't see any glaring mistakes in Arcane season 2. I just saw a lot of decisions that served the themes they wanted to explore - love being unbreakable even when the participants have hurt each other unfathomably, sisters and sister cities falling naturally back into care and alliance when faced with an outside threat, the blinding allure of vengeance and rage and how it's a trap that must be actively escaped.
I think it's always important to meet a story where it's at. "I wanted the story to be a different story" is never a useful criticism. A storyteller needs to tell the story they think should be told. I think Arcane is throwing some people because season 1 in isolation looked like it could have been setting up some different threads - I was expecting them to more thoroughly explore the class divide in Piltover and Zaun and how they could navigate mending their relationship after so many atrocities and injustices inflicted on Zaun, but instead they used the sister cities as a mirror for Vi and Powder, and Vi and Powder are two people who love each other and have hurt each other and despite that will never stop being sisters, so that gets reflected back into Piltover and Zaun. I don't think that's a perfect analogy, but I do think it's the analogy they were going for.
A story cannot be every story. They picked the story they wanted to tell and executed it in the time they had, and I think they did good. That's a lesson we can all internalize as artists; my art, once created, cannot contain every possibility it held before it existed. And even if I fulfil my vision as closely as possible, some people are going to wish I'd done something else. And if those people have such a strong vision of the story they wish I'd told instead, it sounds like they should probably tell that story, since it's already taken shape in their mind. "I wish this story had scrapped its plans and themes and explored this OTHER idea" isn't useful as a criticism, but it is a very powerful artistic motivator.
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its-avalon-08 · 2 days ago
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Hiiii ! I don’t know if you’re taking requests or not but I had an idea for a Lando x reader imagine where they’ve been dating for a little bit (it’s still very new) and then one of his ex’s comes back into his life (platonically) and he completely forgets about the reader until someone comments about his getting back with his ex and he realises how much he’s neglected reader. So he has to make it up her.
Angst to fluff please
see me again (ln4)
✩ pairing - lando norris x female!reader
✩ genre - angst, tears, comfort, neglect (GUYS WHY SO MUCH ANGST WHO HURT YOU)
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Lando and Y/N’s relationship was still wrapped in the charm of newness. Six months in, everything felt fresh and exciting—every touch, every shared secret, and every stolen moment was etched with the novelty of love.
The mornings were Y/N’s favorite, especially when she woke up before him. She’d sit by the large windows of his Monaco apartment, sipping her coffee as the sunlight played across the harbor. Lando would shuffle out, hair tousled, mumbling something unintelligible about coffee before wrapping his arms around her from behind.
“You’re up early,” he murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“I wanted to watch the sunrise,” she replied, smiling as he pressed a kiss to her neck.
“I’m way more interesting than a sunrise.”
“Debatable.”
He feigned offense, but the way his lips curved into a smile gave him away. These quiet moments were theirs—a world apart from the public eye and the roar of engines.
It was during one of these serene mornings when his phone buzzed on the counter, the name Sophia lighting up the screen.
“Who’s that?” Y/N asked casually, sipping her coffee.
Lando glanced at his phone and grinned. “Oh, Sophia. My ex. She’s back in Monaco.”
Y/N’s stomach tightened, but she kept her expression neutral. “Oh, that’s nice. Are you two still in touch?”
“Not really. We parted on good terms, though. She just wanted to catch up.”
Catch up. The phrase hung in the air like an unspoken question.
“That’s... nice,” Y/N replied, her tone light but forced.
“It’ll be fine,” Lando reassured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’re just friends now.”
At first, Y/N convinced herself it wasn’t a big deal. Lando was an open book, and he’d never given her a reason to doubt him. But over the next few weeks, Sophia’s presence loomed larger in their lives than Y/N had anticipated.
“Hey, love, can we raincheck tonight? Sophia wants to grab dinner, and I haven’t seen her in forever,” Lando said one evening, his tone casual, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Y/N’s stomach sank. “Yeah, sure. No problem,” she replied, masking her disappointment.
But it didn’t stop there. Plans were canceled or cut short. Lando would come home later and later, distracted and tired. The easy laughter they used to share was replaced with curt conversations, and Y/N felt like an afterthought in his life.
The final straw came when she arrived at the paddock one weekend, hoping to surprise him, only to find him deep in conversation with Sophia by his car. They looked so comfortable together, laughing and reminiscing, that Y/N felt like an outsider looking in.
“Y/N!” Lando called when he spotted her. “Come meet Sophia.”
She forced a polite smile, shaking Sophia’s hand. The woman was beautiful and warm, everything Y/N wasn’t sure she could compete with.
“It’s so nice to meet you. Lando talks about you all the time,” Sophia said, her smile genuine.
“Likewise,” Y/N replied, her voice tight.
----
The invitation had been on their fridge for weeks: a prestigious event honoring young researchers. Y/N had worked tirelessly on a groundbreaking discovery, and the award was a testament to her dedication. Lando had promised to be there.
That night, Y/N stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her dress nervously. She had picked a navy-blue gown that Lando had once said brought out her eyes. She sent him a quick text as she slipped on her heels.
Y/N: Heading out now. Can’t wait to see you there.
But as she arrived at the venue and scanned the crowd, he was nowhere to be found. She sat at the table reserved for her friends and family, her phone buzzing in her clutch.
Lando: Sophia’s car broke down, and I had to help her out. I’ll come as soon as I can.
The evening passed in a blur. Y/N walked on stage to accept her award, smiling for the cameras, but the empty seat next to her screamed louder than anything else.
When she got home, her trophy in hand, Lando was already asleep on the couch.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled when she woke him up. “Sophia was stranded, and I couldn’t leave her.”
Y/N just nodded, swallowing her words. What was the point of saying them if he wasn’t listening?
---
Their Friday date nights had been a sacred tradition from the very beginning. It was their way of carving out time amidst their busy schedules. Y/N had planned something special—dinner at the restaurant where they had their first date, followed by dessert at their favorite ice cream shop.
She waited at the table, checking her phone every few minutes.
Y/N: Are you on your way?
No reply.
Thirty minutes turned into an hour, and the once-cozy restaurant felt suffocating. Y/N paid for her untouched meal and walked out, her heels clicking against the pavement as she headed home.
When she entered the apartment, Lando was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone.
“Hey,” he said casually. “Sorry, I lost track of time. Sophia and I were talking, and—”
“You forgot,” Y/N interrupted, her voice sharper than she intended.
“I said I’m sorry,” Lando replied, frowning. “You could’ve called.”
“I shouldn’t have to,” she shot back, her frustration boiling over. “I planned this night for us, Lando. Not for me to sit alone while you spend the evening with her.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t mean to,” Y/N repeated bitterly. “That’s the problem.”
---
Y/N had been looking forward to their weekend getaway for weeks. It wasn’t anything extravagant—just a quiet trip to the countryside, away from the noise of Monaco and the demands of Lando’s career.
She packed their bags and waited by the door, excitement bubbling in her chest. But an hour before they were supposed to leave, Lando called.
“I can’t make it, love,” he said apologetically. “Sophia’s moving, and she needs help with her furniture. Raincheck?”
Raincheck. The word felt like a slap.
“Sure,” Y/N replied, her voice flat.
The weekend passed in solitude, and the bags she had packed remained untouched by the door.
Each instance chipped away at Y/N’s patience and self-worth. By the time she confided in Alexandra and Charles, she wasn’t just frustrated—she was heartbroken.
The facade cracked later that week when Y/N confided in Alexandra and Charles during a quiet dinner at their place.
“I don’t even know who I’m dating anymore,” she admitted, tears streaming down her face.
Alexandra wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Y/N, you need to tell him how you feel. He can’t fix what he doesn’t know.”
Y/N shook her head. “He doesn’t even see it, Alex. I feel invisible. Like I’m just... here while he’s off with her. And the worst part? I don’t even think he realizes what he’s doing.”
Charles, who had been silent, finally spoke. “That’s not fair to you. You deserve better.”
“I don’t even know if he loves me anymore,” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking.
Alexandra hugged her tightly, while Charles looked at her with quiet determination. “Then he needs to figure it out,” he said firmly. “But not at the cost of your happiness.”
Y/N nodded, her heart heavy as she realized she couldn’t keep going like this. Something had to change—because the person she had fallen in love with felt further away than ever.
time skip--
Chapter 2: Cracks Become Chasms
Lando stood near the McLaren motorhome, signing autographs and laughing with fans. It was a typical morning at the paddock, but the air felt heavier today. The whispers had started earlier, and by the time a journalist approached him for a quick interview, the weight of the rumors was impossible to ignore.
“So, Lando,” the journalist began with a smirk, “there’s been a lot of buzz about you and Sophia lately. Fans are wondering—is there something going on? A reconciliation perhaps?”
The question hit him like a brick.
“Uh, no,” he stammered, forcing a chuckle. “We’re just friends.”
The journalist raised an eyebrow. “It’s just, we haven’t seen much of Y/N lately, and you and Sophia seem to be spending a lot of time together. People are starting to talk.”
Lando felt the color drain from his face. “Y/N and I are fine,” he said quickly, brushing off the comment. But doubt began to creep in.
As he walked back toward the garage, he spotted Alexandra striding toward him, her expression thunderous. Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement, each step radiating fury.
“Alex, hey—”
“Don’t Alex me,” she snapped, her voice louder than he’d ever heard. “What the hell is wrong with you, Lando?”
“Wait, what?” Lando blinked, taken aback.
“You’ve been an absolute idiot, that’s what!” Alexandra’s voice rose, catching the attention of several passersby. “Do you even realize what you’ve done to Y/N? She’s been breaking her heart over you, and you’re too busy playing hero for Sophia to notice!”
“Alexandra—”
“No!” she interrupted, pointing a finger at his chest. “Do you know where Y/N was last night? Crying her eyes out because she doesn’t know if the person she fell in love with even exists anymore!”
Lando stepped back, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.
“You’ve been canceling on her, forgetting her, neglecting her! And for what? To be Sophia’s knight in shining armor? She’s your past, Lando. Y/N is your present! Or is she not anymore?”
“Alexandra, enough,” Charles murmured, stepping in. He gently pulled her back, his hands on her shoulders as he whispered something in French, his voice soft and soothing.
“Don’t defend him,” she snapped at Charles, though her tone softened slightly at his touch.
“I’m not defending him,” Charles replied, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Alexandra’s rage. “But you’re scaring him, and I’d rather he listens than shuts down.”
Alexandra huffed but stepped back, crossing her arms as her eyes burned holes into Lando. “If you care about her at all, Lando, you’d better fix this. Because if you don’t, you’re going to lose the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
The words echoed in Lando’s ears as he retreated to the privacy of his driver’s room. He sat on the edge of the couch, his head in his hands.
Was it really that bad?
He grabbed his phone and opened social media, his heart sinking as he scrolled through countless comments.
@fan1: “Is Lando back with Sophia? Poor Y/N hasn’t been seen in ages.” @fan2: “Sophia again? Guess Y/N deserved better anyway.” @fan3: “Y/N’s been posting about her work, and Lando hasn’t even acknowledged her award. But sure, let’s talk about Sophia’s car breaking down.” @fan4: “Why does it feel like Y/N is just an afterthought to him now? I miss when they seemed so happy.”
His breath caught as he stumbled upon a photo of Y/N at her award show, standing on stage with her trophy. Her smile was radiant, but something about her eyes looked off—distant, hollow.
Lando scrolled further, finding more pictures of her. There was one she’d posted of their planned getaway, the caption reading, “Maybe next time.” It had been liked thousands of times, but the comments told a different story.
@fan5: “It’s sad seeing her try so hard when Lando doesn’t even show up.” @fan6: “He doesn’t deserve her if this is how he treats her.” @fan7: “Sophia’s great, but Y/N is the one who stood by him. What is he doing?”
Each comment was a stab to his chest, and Lando realized with horror that everyone had noticed his neglect—everyone but him.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling as guilt clawed at him. How had he been so blind? Y/N had been giving him everything, and he had taken it all for granted. Alexandra’s words echoed in his mind: She’s been breaking her heart over you.
Lando’s chest tightened as his thumb hovered over Y/N’s contact. He didn’t even know what to say. Would an apology even be enough?
time skip --
Chapter 3: Silent Realizations
The apartment was eerily quiet when Lando stepped through the door. He set his keys down carefully, as though afraid any sound might shatter the fragile air of tension. He glanced at the clock—it was late, far later than he’d intended to come home.
The smell of food lingered faintly in the air, but the dishes were already washed and stacked neatly. A plate of leftovers sat covered on the counter, untouched. He frowned, guilt gnawing at him. She hadn’t waited for him for dinner.
The living room lights were dimmed, and his heart clenched when he saw Y/N curled up on the couch, a blanket pulled halfway over her. She wasn’t asleep—her eyes were on the TV, but the blank look on her face told him she wasn’t really watching.
“Y/N,” he called softly, his voice breaking the stillness.
She glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable, before returning her gaze to the screen.
“Hey,” he tried again, stepping closer.
“Hey,” she replied, her tone distant, polite.
It broke him.
Lando stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, before his feet carried him to her. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to explain or defend himself. Instead, he sank onto the couch beside her and wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her into his chest.
Y/N froze at first, her body stiff against his. She didn’t hug him back, didn’t move, didn’t even speak.
“Please,” Lando whispered into her hair, his voice cracking. He held her tighter, as if letting go would mean losing her forever.
After a moment, something in her broke. Her arms wrapped around him, clutching him like he was the last lifeline in a storm. Her shoulders shook as the first sob escaped her lips, and then the dam burst.
She cried into his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. Her pain poured out in waves, raw and unfiltered, and Lando held her like his life depended on it.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice barely audible over her sobs. “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry.”
Her crying didn’t falter, but he kept going, the words spilling out of him in a desperate rush.
“I’ve been the worst boyfriend. I’ve neglected you, hurt you, made you feel like you don’t matter, and it’s all my fault. You’ve given me everything, Y/N, and I... I’ve been too blind to see it.”
She pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face looking up at him, her eyes filled with anguish.
“You don’t even see me anymore, Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“I see you now,” he said, his voice fierce, his hands cupping her face. “I see you, Y/N. And I hate myself for making you feel invisible, for making you question your worth, for making you cry when all you’ve ever done is love me.”
He rested his forehead against hers, his own tears slipping free. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. You’re the reason I smile, the reason I feel grounded, the reason I believe I can be better. And I’ve taken you for granted. I’ve been so caught up in my own world that I forgot how much I need you in it.”
Her lip quivered, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
“I miss you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I miss us.”
“We’ll get us back,” Lando vowed, his hands trembling as they brushed her tears away. “I swear to you, Y/N. No more excuses, no more distractions. I’m here. Fully, completely, here. And I’ll spend every day proving it to you, if you’ll let me.”
Her arms tightened around him again, her sobs subsiding into quiet hiccups. For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to believe him.
“I just don’t want to lose you,” she murmured, her voice small.
“You won’t,” he promised, his lips brushing her forehead. “I’ll never let that happen. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.”
They stayed like that for a long time, tangled in each other’s arms, the silence now filled with unspoken promises and fragile hope. It wouldn’t be easy, but Lando was determined to make things right—starting now.
--
The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside. It had been weeks since everything had fallen apart, but in the aftermath, Lando had rebuilt their relationship brick by brick. Every day, he showed up—not just physically, but emotionally. Dinner dates, goodnight kisses, endless inside jokes—it was perfect. Y/N felt like they’d found their way back to each other, stronger than ever.
But perfection could still hide lingering fears.
Lando shot up in bed, his breathing ragged, sweat dampening his shirt. The room was dark, the faint glow of the moon casting shadows across the walls. His chest heaved as the images of his dream haunted him—Y/N’s tear-streaked face, her cold tone, and the final words that echoed in his mind like a death knell:
“I can’t do this anymore, Lando. I’m done.”
His heart twisted painfully, and he scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to shake the phantom ache. Quietly, so as not to wake her, he slipped out of bed and padded to the balcony.
The cool night air hit his skin as he stepped outside, leaning heavily on the railing. His chest was tight, his throat dry. Despite everything they’d overcome, the fear of losing her still clawed at him.
“Lando?”
Her voice was soft, laced with sleep, but it startled him. He turned to see Y/N standing in the doorway, her hair messy from sleep and his oversized hoodie draped over her frame.
“Hey,” he whispered, quickly wiping at his face.
“Why are you out here?” she asked, stepping closer. Her brows furrowed as she noticed the redness in his eyes. “Have you been crying?”
“No, I’m fine,” he lied, his voice shaky.
“Lando,” she said firmly, crossing the distance between them. She placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “Talk to me.”
He let out a shuddering breath, his resolve crumbling under her touch. “I had a nightmare,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “You left me.”
Her face softened instantly. “Oh, Lando
”
“It felt so real,” he continued, his voice breaking. “You said you couldn’t do it anymore. That I’d hurt you too much, and you were done. I tried to stop you, but you were already gone. And when I woke up, I—” His voice cracked, and he covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking as silent sobs overtook him.
Y/N’s heart shattered at the sight. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. “I’m here,” she murmured, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. “I’m right here, Lando.”
“I was so awful to you,” he choked out, his arms tightening around her. “I keep thinking about everything I did—everything I didn’t do—and I hate myself for it. What if
 what if one day you realize you deserve better and leave?”
She pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, her hands cupping his face. “Lando Norris, listen to me,” she said, her tone firm but filled with love. “I’m not going anywhere. Yes, you hurt me. Yes, it was hard. But you’ve shown me every single day since then how much you care, how much I mean to you. You fought for us, and I know you’ll keep fighting.”
“I just
 I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice raw.
“You won’t,” she promised, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks to wipe away his tears. “I’m here because I love you. Not the perfect version of you, not the driver everyone sees, but you. The one who makes stupid jokes, who holds me when I cry, who tries so hard to make up for his mistakes. That’s the Lando I love. And I’m not leaving him.”
Her words washed over him, soothing the storm inside. He buried his face in her shoulder, clutching her as though she might disappear if he let go.
“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.
“You do,” she insisted, pulling back to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re not perfect, Lando. Neither am I. But we’re perfect together, and that’s all that matters.”
He nodded against her shoulder, the tightness in his chest finally easing. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” she replied, holding him close.
They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s warmth under the night sky. Eventually, Y/N tugged him back inside, settling them both on the bed. She kept her arms around him, her fingers running soothingly through his hair until his breathing evened out and sleep finally claimed him.
And as he drifted off, Lando realized that as long as he had her, the nightmares didn’t stand a chance.
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aliceoseman · 21 hours ago
Note
what were the messages on the card for charlie when he was in the clinic? i couldn’t work them all out. ps- as someone who had ocd and had a bad way of coping your writing really is so incredible, i count myself lucky everyday to have those stories and a friend group like i see on your show, seeing scars on screen healed the ashamed 16yr old in me 🌾
I'm so glad to hear that Heartstopper has helped you!! ❀
So the situation with the card was that we realised very very shortly before we shot the scene that we didn't have any content for the card, so a crew member from the art department asked me on set if I could very quickly write the messages, which I did in my notes app, and then sent that as a screenshot to him where he (or someone on his team, I can't confirm) wrote them into the card itself. I didn't get a photo of the finished card because it all happened very fast and suddenly we were shooting the scene! I don't think I even saw the card interior until it was literally on set. But I do still have the note on my phone with all of the messages written out. It's a shame they didn't all appear on screen but hey, sometimes not every detail makes it into the final thing! Here they all are:
Nick
Hi Char,
You are so strong and you will get through this because you’re amazing.
I love you so so much and I’m always here for you. I miss you and I can’t wait for you to come home when you’re ready to. I love you.
Love Nick x
Tao
Charlie,
School is so weird without my bff. I miss you so much little guy. Please look after yourself or I will be very cross. Love you so much Charlie. And hope you like your present, I can’t wait to hear what you think!
Tao xxx
Elle
Dear Charlie,
We all love you so much and can’t wait to see you soon. I’m so sorry things have been so hard. Things will get better, I know it. I can’t wait for Christmas movie nights with you and the boys!
Elle 
Tara
Hi Charlie,
Sending you so much love and strength. You’re an incredible person and we all care about you so much. I really hope you feel better soon. Love you lots and lots.
Tara xx
Darcy
Hey Charlie,
Life can be so shit sometimes but we will always fight back!! You’re one of the coolest people I know and you’re gonna come back more powerful than ever.
Love you!!!
Darcy
Imogen
Dear Charlie,
Love you so much! You’re an incredible and inspiring person and what you’re going through now will only make you stronger.
#warrior
Lots of love,
Imogen xxxx
Sahar
Charlie!
I miss my music buddy! I miss our chats about good bands. I really hope you’re doing okay and starting to feel better. Love you loads pal!
Sahar x 
Isaac
Hey Charlie,
Miss you so so much. I’m so sorry I didn't try and help more, but the fact that you asked for help yourself just goes to show what a strong person you are. I love you. Get back here soon so we can watch Emma again.
Love Isaac x
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soulrox · 3 days ago
Text
DPxDC #25
Part 1
Part 2
Whisper and Numbers have been living in an abandoned building in Crime Alley. Since Red Hood vouched for Numbers to the leader of the kids' gang, Pebble, many Crime Alley kids also live there. The duo stays out of gangs. It has become an open secret to the kids that the duo are some kind of Meta as they seem to know everything. But the streets will keep their secrets.
Many nights Numbers will tell stories to the kids. It started when Whispers asked to hear about the Evil Dragon Aragon and his sister Princess Dorathea. All the kids were enthralled to hear about it even the older kids listened. Even if they looked like they weren't. Numbers told edited stories about his prior heroism/vigilantism to the kids. He even shared stories told to him by the spirits. Little things about Gotham's history.
Some of the stories come from Whisper herself. Stories about Gothams' Bats and Birds are the kids' favorite. The kids believe they are fake and/or exaggerated. None of the stories are fake. Whisper has been told stories of the vigilantes since before she could understand the songs of the wind. She is happy that the stories she knows are being shared, thanks to Numbers.
The best story of the bats and birds is the one of the Second Robin who stole the tires off the Batmobile. And hitting Batman with a tire iron. The kids had such a good laugh hearing about it. Some of the more risk-taker kids took this as a challenge to try and steal tires off the assortment of bat vehicles.
The bats and birds have been going through it recently. Alarms keep going off on all their vehicles. Street kids have been seen running off right when they get there. Red Robin was the unfortunate soul who when he went to patrol, after finally getting sleep (after 72 hours awake), came to see his bike tires gone.
Whisper had known right away when the kids, Stitches, and Patches, were actually successful. Numbers and Whisper escorted the two with their treasure to Red Hood. The duo told them RH would buy the tires. The modulated sound of laughter coming from RH went on for several minutes. When he finally stopped, he asked why the kids took the tires.
Stitches: We wanted to be like the second Robin!! Numbers told us he stole the Batmobile tires and hit Batman. He's the best!
Patches: Yeah! But the Batmobile is a super hard target. So we got Red Robin.
Red Hood under his mask had gained tears in his eyes. Whisper and Number both stood silently with a knowing look in their eyes. RH paid the two a large amount but told them not to do that again. After the two ran off with their money to share the story with others, RH turned to the duo.
RH: You Know? Of course, the ghosts told you. I cannot believe you are telling those stories to the kids, Numbers. At least I can rub this in Replacement's face. And make him buy his tires back.
Numbers: They've all been heavily edited and the kids love the stories.
Whisper: *whispering* Happy, funny, embarrassing stories should be shared. We'll switch to Just Loser and Just Loser Dimwits stories soon.
RH always laughs when he hears how the duo refers to the JL/JLD. Even some of the other street kids have picked up the name.
Numbers calls the JLD, Just Loser Dimwits because as the magically inclined they should've been the ones to look after the Amity Situation.
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motorsportbarbie13 · 3 days ago
Text
Christmas Showdown
In which you and Lando run into an ex-boyfriend while you're home for the holidays.
Warnings: talk of abusive relationship (no details though). Established relationship. Protective Lando. This could probably be better and it's pretty short buttttttt I needed to get this out of my head, so enjoy! Pairing: Lando Norris x Girlfriend!Reader Word Count: 1.8k words
Master List
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It had been several years since you spent the holidays in your small Midwestern hometown. Usually, your family flew out to London or Monaco to spend the holiday’s with you there, much preferring to leave Michigan’s several feet of snow that was typically on the ground during Christmas. This year was different thought. Your grandmother had been too ill to make the long flight so instead, you came to them. Which was fine with you, you had missed seeing friends that were home for the holidays and missed the nostalgic nights spent around the Christmas tree with your family. The one person who was not fine with it, however, was your boyfriend. 
Lando Norris simply hated the cold. He hated being cold. Hated thinking about the cold. Hated the snow. Anytime the temperature dipped below 50 degrees Fahrenheit ( which also a fight you two had often was how he refused to learn the difference between Fahrenheit and Celsius while also simultaneously refusing to do the same for him.) So you knew he must really be down bad for you when he had agreed (albeit a bit sluggishly) to spend the Christmas holiday with you in your (freezing) hometown. 
There was minimal complaining for the first few days you were at home, mostly because it the weather was fair enough to not be something comparable to the North Pole, but trouble arose the day of your Aunt and Uncle’s infamous Christmas party. The first sign of trouble was your brother’s insistence on a family outing to the sledding hill that was a few miles from your house. Of course Lando had packed several parkas but when he had seen the Canada Goose store in the mall the day before, he had bought the thickest, best cold rated puffer jacket he could find. Despite that and several layers of long johns and sweaters, by the time you reached the sledding hill your poor boyfriend was shivering like your grandma’s ancient chihuahua. 
To his credit though, there was not one single utterance of a complaint or plea to go back to your parents house for a cup of hot chocolate then entire time. Lando happily chased your nieces and nephews around the sledding hill and even went down the hill a few times with you. 
“Okay, folks!” Your dad calls out as the afternoon sun hangs low in the sky. “I think it’s time we all head home and get ready for Judy and Steve’s party tonight. I expect everyone to be at their house by 7pm sharp!” The ‘this reminder is for your benefit’ look that your dad sends you has your already wind chapped face turning even more red. 
“I don’t know why you’re glaring at me! I’m always on time!” You shout, grabbing for Lando’s hand. “We’ll see you guys tonight!” 
Once you get in the Range Rover that Lando had rented for the two week visit, he immediately turns the heated seats on full power and cranks up the heat. 
“Do you want to swing by Starbucks and get something warm before going home?” You ask as Lando pulls out of the park and onto the snowy street. “I feel like I might need to just get you an IV of hot chocolate at this point.” 
Lando gives you a sidelong glare. “I think I have icicles in my nose hairs.” 
Laughter tumbles out of you, quick and light, sending a thrill of pleasure down Lando’s spine. You two had been dating for a few years now and there were still times he’d look over at you and think ‘how the fuck did I convince this girl to be my girlfriend?’. You had come into his life at a particularly challenging time and had been his rock since day one. 
“Starbucks it is, my poor little snowman. There’s one up here in this strip mall. Turn left at this light and then it’s on the right.” 
The parking lot, which is a shared lot with several other big box stores, is an absolute zoo and you can see the line snaking around the inside of the Starbucks before you even go in. To save some time, Lando drops you off at the front door while he goes and finds a spot for the large SUV. 
The line is long when you get inside but you’re thankful to at least be out of the bitter cold. While you wait in line, you mindlessly scroll on your Instagram, which is locked down tighter than Fort Knox. Going private on all socials and not being featured heavily on Lando’s had been one of the things you two had agreed upon when things started getting serious nearly two years ago now. People who were huge Lando fans knew who you were but the casual F1 fan probably wouldn’t have been able to pick you out of a lineup. 
Your casually scrolling, minding your own business, when a deep voice calling your name jolts you out of your little social media bubble. 
“Jeff?” You sputter, surprised to see your college boyfriend standing in front of you in line, huge smile on his face. 
Jeff had been one of the guys you and your best friends had drooled over in high school, having been nearly two years ahead of you when you were teens. You didn’t start dating him until your freshman year of college, when he was already a junior. To say the man was toxic was an understatement. In fact, now that you had a few years distance between the now and the end of the relationship, you could confidently say Jeff had been pretty abusive. 
“Hey, stranger!” He says, leaning in for a hug. You go completely still, totally unprepared to be faced with the man who had caused you so much trauma in the two years you had dated. “I have’t seen you in ages, visiting your family for the holidays?” 
You toss a look over your shoulder, desperately wishing for Lando to come walking in the door. “Uh, yeah. First time in a few years. I usually fly them over to London or Monaco for the holidays.” 
A dark shadow passes over Jeff’s face at the mention of where you live now. “Monaco, huh? You always thought you were too good for us here, didn’t you?” 
Your stomach twists painfully at the look in his eyes and you briefly consider just turning around and walking right out of the Starbucks without your drinks.
Before you can stutter out a response, a strong pair of large hands wraps around your waist as Lando drops his head onto your shoulder. “Darling. Baby. Sweetheart. Love of my life." Lando croons in your ear, not yet picking up on your body language. "I adore you but why the fuck did you have to be born in a place where the air hurts your face?” 
You laugh stiffly despite yourself. “Talk to my parents about that one, love.” 
Lando drops a kiss on your cheek before looking over at the other man. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to someone.” 
Across from you, Jeff had been watching this exchange between Lando and you with an increasing amount of annoyance. Who the fuck was this and why was he calling you the love of his life? 
“Lando, this is Jeff.” You turn slightly, giving Lando a knowing look which he catches onto immediately. “Jeff, this is my boyfriend, Lando.” 
“That’s an interesting name. Only heard that name twice before, once in Star Wars and
” Jeff’s voice drops off as he finally makes the connection. “Wait. Lando
as in Lando Norris?” 
The smug grin that stretches across Lando’s face nearly has you giggling. “That’s me. And you’re Jeff, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you. None of it good.” 
Lando remembered the first time you had ever opened up to him a few months into dating about how you had been in an abusive relationship in college and how much work it had taken to recover from it. He had been your first serious relationship after leaving Jeff, having left the country just to get away from him. Internally, Lando raged at the man standing in front of you two, the protective instinct in him screaming to just lay the guy out right here.
Jeff’s already ruddy face turns red with incandescent rage. You had totally forgotten he was a big Formula One fan and when you remember the fact that not only is he an F1 fan, but a huge McLaren fan, the urge to giggle hits you again. Oh, this was just too good. 
“How’d you
” Jeff stutters. “How’d you manage to bag yourself a Formula 1 driver?” 
The question is a pathetic attempt to rile you up and insult you but both you and Lando see that question for exactly what it is. 
Lando plants another kiss on your cheek and you know he’s doing it to be an asshole. “I was actually the one who pursued her. She turned me down left and right for nearly a year, didn’t you baby?” 
You nod, remembering the way Lando had come into your office at the McLaren Tech Center day after day just to make small talk at first but finally had worked up the nerve to ask you out. You were one of the newer people on the comms team back then and you hand’t wanted to jeopardize the career you had worked so hard for so you had turned him down for nearly a year, insisting that you wanted nothing more than a friendship with the driver. 
“But eventually, he wore me down. He flew me to Monaco and took me out on his yacht for our first date, it was all very romantic.” It had actually been Max’s yacht, but Jeff didn’t need to know that bit. 
You can see Jeff practically seething at this point, knowing that you’re doing so well and he’s still apparently stuck in your hometown. 
“And how are you doing, Jeff? Still working at your dad’s law firm? How is Vance doing? And Laura?” You know it’s killing him, asking about his parents by their first name. 
Jeff just blinks at you for a few moments, realizing you weren’t the little girl he used to push around and take advantage of in college anymore. “Made partner last year, actually.” 
“That must be easy to do when your dad owns the practice, huh?” Lando says, voice nothing but light innocence. 
Jeff’s eyes bounce between you and Lando for several moments before he suddenly reaches into his pocket. “If you’d excuse me, it looks like the office is calling me.” 
“A call from the office the day before Christmas! Gosh, you must be very important, Jeffery.” Lando’s low blow to Jeff’s big ego hits true and without another word, the man scampers out of the Starbucks without a second glance in your direction. 
Once he’s gone, both you and Lando dissolve into giggles, your head finding it’s favorite spot on Lando’s shoulder. “I’m surprised he didn’t try to deck you there are the end.” 
“And mess up his pretty lawyer hands? Honey, I doubt he even knows how to throw a punch.” 
tag list @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago
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fushitoru · 2 days ago
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things abt jjk men I don’t see enough in fanfiction (and plan to write)
YEARNING with nanami. he’s always somehow automatically husband or boyfriend, which is deserved duh, but i feel like there’s not enough. friends to lovers or enemies to lovers slow burn type shit in the fandom
toji as a young man and without a huge age gap between reader and him. don’t get me wrong I love my broke DILF but I want to see more canon fics because toji was a ROMANTIC. the only reason he left zen’in clan and found footing in life again was because of mamaguro when he was younger. college aged toji; coworker toji etc etc I feel like we need more of with, again, YEARNING
sukuna falling first. I have been BRAINROTTING about goddess!reader, who saves a falling child quite heavily covered in bruises and markings in a village. years later, after she has embarked on another mission and is in battle, the king of curses saved her. so just basically rejected child sukuna falls in love with you after you saved him when everyone in his village wants him dead for his abnormalities, worships you and builds temple for you for his entire life and becomes so powerful so he can be worthy of you and then years later comes back to pine after you as he joins you in your future battles. is this super niche and specific and probably not interesting to anyone who doesn’t know about hualian’s (from heavens official blessing) dynamics? perhaps. am I still going to write fics no one asked for? hell yea
there are deffo fics that incorporate these but i just don’t see enough. however im not here to complain, more like take notes at 3am when I should be sleeping
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jjenthusee · 2 days ago
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Home Date
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Summary: A sudden injury leads to Jason facing a glimmer of his past, but it unintentionally leads to the people who care for him most realizing they didn’t have to worry at all. That you were there for him.
Warnings: injury, but not very descriptive
Word Count: 1.2k
“Jay, it hurts so bad.” You exhaled, squeezing your eyes to get yourself to focus.
“I know, Sweetheart, but we have to move you. I need someone to take a look at ya.” Jason gently cusped your face, rubbing at the edges of your jaw. “Please. We can reschedule the date.”
He kneeled in front of you, his hair long enough to touch the top of his eyelids as he looked up to you.
You winced as you leaned forward, trying to minimize the pain by pressing a hand onto Jason’s shoulder. The smallest movement shot pain up your leg.
Jason grabbed onto your forearm, pressing into your skin to remind you he was there.
“I don’t know what happened. I heard a ‘pop’ and now I can’t move my leg without it hurting.” You were shaking at trying to hold yourself steady, standing at an awkward position. “I can’t move—Jay, I don’t know what to do.”
You gripped his shoulder harder and fear looked into Jason’s eyes as he watched you panic.
Jason looked up at your wincing face, calculating all the routes he could take and what his next steps could be before he felt his face calm and his grip on you strengthened.
With a calm acceptance, he spoke.
“I’m taking you to the manor.” Jason kissed your temple. He wasn’t willing to take any chances.
With painful steps and many breaks leaning into Jason’s weight did you make it into a car to drive off to the one place Jason had been avoiding.
He didn’t like the drive, how it reminded him of so many things, but you were a priority and he was scared shitless at facing something he wasn’t ready for.
It was like flashes in Jason mind.
Knocking on the door, the confused face from Alfred before he saw the person Jason was clutching so desperately. How Jason didn’t want to look around because the chill on his skin was enough of a reminder.
While at the manor, Jason paced back and forth into the cold, sterile building, holding his breath as he tried to think of all the possibilities.
Does he need to grab anything on his way back? Did you eat before this? How long would he be in the manor? Should he pick you up some clothes?
“—Jason.” Bruce’s husk voice filled the hallway.
Jason’s pacing immediately stopped. Like his body ingrained the commanding voice from his Robin days more than his mind.
He had buried the memories as far down as he could, but once an animal learns a trick, can he ever forget it?
“Alfred said you can come back in.” Bruce held the door open, waiting.
Jason had been chased out earlier, constantly overlooking and trying to get verbal confirmation that you were okay. The pestering had Alfred giving him a stern look that had Bruce ushering him outside.
It was awkward.
The long thirty minutes had Jason’s skin crawling. He held his posture straighter, hoping the extra height over Bruce would somehow ease his mind that he was tougher, stronger than the young boy who once walked these halls.
“We’ll make sure everything is fine—“
“That’s why I’m here.” Jason sternly interrupted Bruce’s attempt at comfort as he held a glare, feeling his hands tense the longer he was separated from you.
He had to make it obvious that that was the only reason why he crawled back, the reason for all the blocking and erasing of his presence at every moment.
Silence.
It was always lingering in the manor and Jason hated every second of it.
Until he heard the sound of your voice, faint and coming from the open door Bruce still held.
Jason quickly forgot all his hatred and awkwardness when he walked up to your side. Trying to make sure you were still there, physically.
With one hand resting on your head, rubbing and feeling the warmth of your skin did Jason finally breathe. He could feel his body release some of the strain.
Alfred gave the run down, what to avoid, how to proceed if the pain gets worse. But all it came down to was some rest and monitoring.
Jason took mental notes of everything. Creating a plan in his head took all his attention to even notice the subtle looks from Bruce and Alfred at the sudden appearance of the stubborn, angry son.
The looks of wonder at watching the changes of Jason in real time, how tender yet protective he was of you. How he was willing to suddenly appear when he verbally reminded everyone how much he hated being there.
You grabbed Jason’s hand.
“Breathe, Jay. We can go home.” You whispered, enough to catch his attention.
Despite the recovering pain, you could only worry for the man losing his mind but trying his hardest to keep it together for your sake.
With a soft gaze and the feel of sweat on your brow, Jason knelt to make his face level with yours.
You felt the brush of his breathe on your cheek. In that moment, you were happy he was listening to your words.
With a small smile, you rubbed his hair, clearly messy from him grabbing at it constantly, but you tried to make your own protective cave with your body and arms to cradle Jason’s head. Giving him the space to breathe and calm his mind in his madness that he tried to still.
You tiredly glanced at your two audience, they saw how trusting Jason was of you and how you showed your own calm determination to protect the broken man in your arms.
Maybe it was the drowsiness or your own blurry glare, but you could have sworn that the older broody man, strangely an aged copy of Jason, had a subtle smile before he walked away, disappearing into the darkness.
After the medication kicked in, you don’t remember how you got home, but the realization of a new change of clean clothes and the smell of food was enough to know you were safe again, that Jason was safe.
He always knew you so well that in the next blink of your eyes, he appeared at your side of the bed.
He was always good at that, knowing you more than yourself.
In a small kiss on your cheek, Jason rubbed his face onto yours, basking in the physical touch.
“I made food. I want you to at least take a couple bites.” Jason softly spoke.
You felt his hair tickle your head and you couldn’t help but smile.
“It smells great.” You rubbed back.
“It might hurt, but I’ll help you walk to the couch.” He suggested.
You groaned at the thought of moving, the memories of the pain coming back.
“We can watch movies, watch the sunset, and maybe take a nap?” Jason tried to coax, grabbing your hand to kiss your fingertips.
“Fine, but I get to pick the movie.” You mindlessly watched Jason kiss each of your fingers.
In slow motions, you were making your way to the living room as Jason tried to make it as painless as possible.
It wasn’t the planned date you expected, but home dates with Jason were always your favorites.
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retiredteabag · 2 days ago
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Uncle sukuna
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Uncle Sukuna hates children and that just makes kids like him more.
They are practically magnetized to the man.
If he was being honest, he's really just afraid of hurting them, that and he has no idea how to handle a crying child. So, he avoids them at all cost.
Sometimes there's just nothing he can do though, especially when a little monster like his nephew is napping on his chest.
Which he does frequently.
Sukuna would be mean. Straight up telling the kid he was annoying. Yuuji would almost never care.
Almost.
“Don’t even think about it you little brat.” Sukuna would protest, seeing Yuuji crawling across the sofa. “Nu uh. No. Get your sticky little hands off of me!”
But eventually he would have to give in, rolling his eyes as Yuuji found his place- drooling over Sukuna’s shoulder.
Sukuna was also the type to say no and never mean it.
“Can we watch my show kuna?”
“No.”
Five minutes later? They’re smooshed together watching Yuuji’s stupid cartoon.
“Uncuna
 can you help with my math homework please?”
“No.”
The next second Sukuna is in full tutor mode.
You might think that he’s the type to make a kid cry over their geometry work, but he is typically more patient than expected.
“Kuna can you make me some cinnamon toast?”
“No.”
“Pleaseeeee?????”
“No, Yuuji.” He’s firm.
Yuuji knows he’s getting that toast.
Sukuna has a love hate relationship with the kid. For Yuuji, it’s just love. That’s why, on the rare occasion, Sukuna might be just a little too rough on him.
It would likely be after a long day, maybe he worked late, maybe he had to deal with a rude person, maybe he didn’t sleep well. Whatever the case, the tattooed man would have an already short fuse when he walked in the door.
Unaware of his bad mood, Yuuji would flip around on the sofa, hearing the key turn in the door.
“KUNA!!!”
Yuuji would bound off the couch, racing for his uncle. Sukuna would sigh and roll his eyes as the boys grubby little hands encircled his leg.
“Kuna kuna! I had a presentation at school today! And I did a really good job because everybody clapped at the end like this-“ the boy smacks his hands together over and over, a big smile on his face, “I was so nervous but now that it’s all over, I wish I could do it again! It was so fun! I can’t wait for my next presentation-“
“Oh my gosh Yuuji will you shut up? I really do not care about your school project.” Sukuna would know the second it left his mouth it wouldn’t be true.
Yuujis little arms would fall away from his uncle. A frown would cover his face. “O-oh okay.” He would stumble back, watching his uncles face.
Sukuna would groan inwardly. Knowing he had been too harsh. He never actually minded hearing about his nephews day, he was just overstimulated and now he felt awful. The little boy was holding up a strong facade but his lip wobbled. The man would sigh.
“Ugh, Yuuji, I’m sorry kid, that was wrong of me-“
“No.” The boy would sniffle, “s’okay. M’sorry for making you mad.”
Oh, now Sukuna might as well walk into oncoming traffic.
He sighs, “No, Yuuji, you didn’t do a thing wrong. Don’t apologize for anything, alright?” He would run a hand through his cropped pink hair, “listen, I’m glad your presentation went well, that’s good, how about we go get dinner after I wash up, whatever ya want.”
Yuujis eyes would widen, a big grin coming back, “Yeah?!” Sukuna would sigh at the kids forgiving nature.
“Yeah, kid, I’m starved.”
Yuuji would bounce up and down, then, without a moment’s hesitation, throw himself around his uncles leg.
Sukuna would pat the boys hair, cursing himself for being so short with the kid.
And after being so annoyed just a second ago, after watching Yuuji race off to change his clothes, Sukuna realized he had forgotten what had ruined his day to begin with.
Cute little brat.
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sleepingdiaryzzz · 3 days ago
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@errorunfound1
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Yandere!neglectful!Batfam x mom!reader
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Wayne Manor had always felt vast, but to you, it was more of a void than a home. It was easy to get lost in its endless hallways, in the constant hum of life orbiting Bruce’s nocturnal mission. You married him for love, despite knowing the weight of the life he led. You accepted his scars, his mission, his world. But what you hadn’t expected was how little space there would be left for you in it.
Bruce was always out, chasing shadows, leaving you to navigate a family that seemed determined to keep you at arm’s length. You poured your heart into them—Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian—but your efforts were met with indifference at best and disdain at worst. You had been a mother in every way that mattered, yet the coldness you received in return made your heart ache.
“You don’t have to act like you care,” Jason sneered once when you tried to patch him up after patrol. “We both know you’re just here for him.”
Tim barely acknowledged you unless it was necessary, his head buried in his work. Dick’s smiles, once genuine, now felt like politeness masking discomfort. And Damian, always the sharpest, had no qualms about cutting you down. “You’re not my mother,” he’d said, his words a dagger that twisted in your chest.
Bruce never intervened. When you tried to tell him, his responses were dismissive. “They’ll come around,” he’d say before disappearing into the night. But they never did.
So, you stayed quiet, swallowing the hurt, letting it fester.
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One night, you stood in the empty dining room, staring at the cold, untouched dinner you’d prepared. The clock ticked on the wall, counting the hours Bruce was late. Again. You could hear the faint hum of voices from the Batcave below, the family gathered around him while you sat alone.
It wasn’t anger that bubbled up this time. It was resignation.
You left that night, not with a dramatic goodbye, but with a simple bag and a note left on the kitchen counter.
“I love you, but I can’t keep losing myself in a family that doesn’t want me.”
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The days without you passed unnoticed at first. Bruce buried himself in his work, assuming you needed time to cool off. The Batkids carried on as usual, their lives too busy to miss the quiet presence you’d once provided.
It was Alfred who noticed first—the meals left uneaten, the flowers on the windowsill wilting. “Sir,” he said carefully one evening, “she’s not coming back.”
Bruce stopped mid-step, his expression flickering. “She just needs time.”
But days turned into weeks, and the absence became impossible to ignore. The manor felt colder, emptier. Jason snapped more often, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation. Tim’s focus wavered, his mistakes piling up in a way they never had before. Damian trained harder, his strikes sharper, but there was a new tension in him, an unease he wouldn’t voice.
“She left us,” Damian said one night, his tone sharp but brittle. “That’s on her.”
“No,” Dick said quietly, guilt heavy in his voice. “It’s on us.”
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Bruce found you three weeks later, living in a modest apartment far from the grandeur of Wayne Manor. The door was locked, but that had never been an obstacle for him. He let himself in, his imposing frame filling the doorway as you stood frozen in the kitchen.
“Bruce,” you said, your voice tight.
“Come home.” His tone was soft but firm, the same voice he used to give orders in the field.
Your laugh was bitter, hollow. “Home? That place hasn’t felt like home in years.”
His jaw tightened, the only sign of his frustration. “You belong there. With me. With them.”
“I belonged there once,” you said, your voice breaking. “But I spent years trying to love a family that couldn’t love me back. Do you even realize how much it hurt, Bruce? To be invisible in my own home?”
He stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “I didn’t see it. I should have. But I’m here now.”
“Too late,” you whispered, tears spilling over.
But Bruce Wayne was not a man who gave up easily. His hand reached out, brushing against yours. “You think I’ll let you go that easily?” His voice dropped, a dangerous edge slipping into his tone. “You’re mine. You always have been.”
You pulled away, shaking your head. “You don’t love me, Bruce. You love control. You love having someone waiting for you. But I won’t be that person anymore.”
The silence between you was heavy, suffocating. His eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you thought he might let you go. But Bruce was nothing if not persistent.
“You’re coming home,” he said, his voice soft but unyielding.
Before you could respond, his hand shot forward, pressing a syringe into your arm. The sharp sting was followed by a wave of dizziness, and your legs buckled.
“Bruce,” you gasped, your vision swimming as he caught you.
“It’s for your own good,” he murmured, his arms cradling you as darkness pulled you under.
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(A/n: this is why I don't take money 😅 writing shi asf đŸ˜”đŸ”„ chat did I cook or am I cooked?)
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vanteguccir · 3 days ago
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── à­šà­§ ! BOSTON FOR THANKSGIVING
chris sturniolo x reader
SUMMARY: Where Y/N goes back to Boston with Chris and his brothers for Thanksgiving.
WARNING: None.
REQUESTED?: Yes, by @smileymilee
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
A/NÂČ: I'm sorry if I couldn't create the whole Thanksgiving vibe correctly, we don't commemorate it on Brazil, so I don't know how it follows traditionally.
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The crisp November air bit at Y/N’s cheeks as she followed Chris up the stone walkway leading to the Sturniolo family home. The familiar house with its neatly trimmed hedges and warmly lit windows looked just as welcoming as it had last year, but this time, Y/N felt more at home. It was her second Thanksgiving with Chris and his family, and she already knew what awaited her inside: love, warmth, and a fair bit of chaos.
Chris shifted the bags he was carrying and glanced back at her.
"You ready?" He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
Y/N nodded, her own smile spreading wide.
"Always."
The front door swung open by Nick before Chris could even reach for the handle. A blur of caramel fur darted out, running between the boy's legs while barking excitedly.
"Trevor!" Y/N squealed, dropping her own bags instantly. She knelt on the porch, arms open wide as the family dog launched himself into her embrace. His tail wagged furiously, and Y/N giggled as he licked her face with enthusiasm.
Chris stood above them, shaking his head with an amused chuckle.
"Guess I know where I stand." He teased, adjusting the straps of the duffel bags on his shoulders before bending slightly and taking her dropped bags, throwing it over his free arm.
Y/N grinned up at him, scratching behind Trevor’s ears.
"You know you’re second to Trevor." She quipped before pressing a kiss to the dog’s head, inhaling his comforting Dog Shampoo scent.
The sound of hurried footsteps approached, and Mary Lou appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.
"There’s my crew!" She exclaimed, her face lighting up at the sight of her boys. She rushed forward, pulling each of them into tight hugs.
"Hi, Mom." Matt said, his voice muffled by her embrace.
"Missed you, Ma." Nick added, smiling fondly as she kissed his cheek lovingly.
When Mary Lou turned to Y/N, her expression softened even more.
"Oh, my sweet girl!" She said, pulling her up and into a hug so warm and tight, it could melt the chill of a Boston winter.
Y/N’s heart swelled.
"I missed you so much." She murmured, squeezing her back.
Mary Lou pulled back just enough to cup Y/N’s face, her eyes bright with affection.
"Missed you too, honey. How’s everything? You’ll have to catch me up on all the details."
"I have so much to tell you." Y/N replied eagerly, already feeling herself slip into the comfort of their mother-daughter dynamic.
"Well, come on then!" Mary Lou laughed, tugging Y/N’s hand and leading her toward the kitchen without so much as a glance back at the boys or their luggage.
Chris watched them go, shaking his head in mock disbelief.
"Every time." He muttered, stepping inside with the bags still slung over his shoulders.
Nick snickered.
"We’re chopped liver the moment Y/N shows up."
"Facts." Matt added, grabbing his duffel and heading toward the living room.
As they piled the bags near the staircase, footsteps creaked from upstairs. Jimmy appeared at the top of the stairs, adjusting his glasses as he surveyed the scene.
"Hey, boys!" He called, his voice booming with warmth.
"Hey, Dad!" They chorused, looking up at him.
Jimmy descended the steps, grinning. But when he noticed the absence of Y/N, his grin widened knowingly.
"Let me guess, your mother already stole Y/N, didn’t she?"
Chris laughed, tossing a jacket over the banister.
"Yep. She didn’t even give us a chance to finish saying hi."
Jimmy chuckled, clapping a hand on Chris’s shoulder.
"Sounds about right. That girl’s practically her daughter at this point."
"Don’t we know it." Matt said, rolling his eyes playfully.
In the kitchen, Y/N perched on a stool at the island, recounting stories to Mary Lou as Trevor curled up at her feet. The smell of freshly baked pies filled the air, and the warmth of the room seemed to wrap around Y/N like a blanket.
Mary Lou hung on her every word, her eyes sparkling.
"You’re such a delight." She said, reaching out to squeeze Y/N’s hand. "I hope you know how much we love having you here."
Y/N smiled, her heart full.
"I love being here."
The sound of Jimmy entering the kitchen snapped them back to reality, his steps light but deliberate, making a beeline for Mary Lou, planting a quick kiss on the top of her head.
"Hey, hon." He greeted warmly before turning his attention to Y/N. "And there’s our star guest." He said with a broad smile, extending his arms for a hug.
"Hi, Jimmy!" Y/N replied, returning his embrace with the same warmth she always felt from him. "How's that cabin going?" She asked, remembering the small cabin that Jimmy mentioned during their last 'family call' - how Chris liked to call it, one that he'd been building himself.
"It's finally getting somewhere." He smiled proudly, receiving a gaze full of joy and love from Mary Lou.
"Oh! I just remembered that we need to make a quick trip to the supermarket." She folded her towel, looking up at Jimmy. "I thought we had everything, but we’re out of thyme, and I need more butter for the turkey."
The oldest nodded, already heading toward the door.
"I’ll grab the keys."
"Y/N, you okay holding down the fort?" Mary Lou asked, her voice tinged with both apology and trust.
"Of course." Y/N replied immediately, rolling up the sleeves of her green Harry Potter sweater. "I’ve got this."
Mary Lou smiled, her affection evident.
"Thank you. I'll be back in no time."
As the front door closed behind them, Y/N found herself alone in the kitchen. The comforting sounds of laughter and basketball from the living room filtered through as she turned her attention to the stove.
She moved with ease, stirring sauces, seasoning vegetables, and now chopping fresh herbs for the stuffing. Her movements were precise, her mind immersed in the rhythm of cooking.
"Hey, chef extraordinaire." Chris’s voice broke through the quiet.
Y/N glanced up briefly, spotting him leaning against the doorframe, his grin wide and teasing.
"Need something?" She asked, arching a brow before turning back to her task.
"Yeah." He said simply, stepping into the room. "You."
Before she could respond, she felt his long arms slide around her waist, his warmth enveloping her as he pressed gently against her back. His fingers interlocked over her stomach, and his lips brushed against her cheek in a lingering kiss.
"Chris." She murmured, her voice soft with a mix of exasperation and fondness. "I’m trying to cook."
"I know." He whispered against her ear, his voice low and velvety. His lips trailed a slow path along her jaw and down to her neck, leaving a series of soft kisses in their wake.
Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, her hands stilling on the cutting board.
"You’re impossible." She said, her tone betraying her amusement.
"I’m thankful for you." He murmured, completely ignoring her comment, his lips brushing against her shoulder. "So, so thankful."
Her heart melted at his words, and she turned her head slightly, her cheeks flushed, but her smile unrestrained.
"You’re ridiculous." She said softly.
"And yet, you love me." He replied with a grin, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"I really do." She whispered back, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes, enjoying his gentle touch and soft perfume.
Their moment was interrupted by the slam of the front door and Mary Lou’s cheerful voice.
"We’re back!"
The sound of grocery bags being set down and Jimmy’s voice joining the mix signaled their return. Moments later, Mary Lou bustled into the kitchen, her sharp eyes landing immediately on Chris.
"Christopher Owen." She scolded, her tone firm but playful as she placed her hands on her hips. "What are you doing? Let that poor girl work!"
Chris straightened but didn’t release Y/N, grinning like a mischievous child caught in the act.
"I’m just showing her some love, Ma. There's nothing wrong with that."
Mary Lou swatted him lightly on the back of the head.
"Out! Go join your brothers in the living room and let her focus."
Y/N laughed, her cheeks still warm.
"It’s okay, Mary Lou. He wasn’t bothering me too much."
Mary Lou shook her head with a fond smile.
"Don’t defend him, sweetheart. He’ll take advantage of it."
"He totally will!" Nick's voice yelled from the living room, causing laughter to escape Y/N's mouth.
Chris sighed, finally letting go, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender.
"Fine, fine. But for the record, I’m still thankful for you."
He winked at Y/N as he left the kitchen, his retreat punctuated by his brothers’ teasing from the living room.
Mary Lou sighed, her affection for her son shining through even her exasperation.
"That boy." She muttered before turning to Y/N with a warm smile. "You’re a saint for putting up with him, you know."
Y/N paused, her knife hovering over the herbs before glancing toward the door where Chris had disappeared. A soft smile spread across her face, one filled with pure affection.
"I don’t think of it as 'putting up with him,'." She said, her voice warm and sincere. "Loving Chris is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. I'm very thankful for him."
Mary Lou’s expression softened, her eyes glistening just slightly.
"Oh, sweetheart." She said, reaching out to squeeze Y/N’s hand. "He’s lucky to have you. We all are."
Y/N smiled bashfully, her cheeks flushing as she returned to her task, but her heart felt lighter than ever.
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seumyo · 2 days ago
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ⭑.ᐟ THE FIRST FALL OF SNOW
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Pro Hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight in the public’s eye, is finally on his way home. The moment he clocked out, he was Bakugou Katsuki.
The apartment door swung open, and Bakugou trudged inside, every step weighed down by the exhaustion of the day. His back ached from the relentless action-packed hours at work (somehow, during the holidays, villains were at their peak action), and the chill of winter clung to his skin, even through the layers of his winter gear earlier. He’d been looking forward to collapsing onto the bed and shutting the world out for the rest of the night.
He let out a grunt of frustration, yanking his scarf off as he called out, “I’m home.”
Bakugou was greeted by your voice. Too chipper, as if you had something planned.
“Perfect timing! Go change into something warm; we’re going out!” you said, a spark of excitement lighting up your tired features. You had on your favorite scarf and coat, your cheeks flushed from the cold air that must’ve blown in while you’d been waiting for him.
Katsuki frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re kidding, right? It’s freezing, and I just got home.”
“I’m not kidding.” Your smile widened, undeterred by your husband’s gruffness. “You need to relax, and I need to check out the sale on the market. We’re going downtown, just for a little bit. Please?”
“No,” he scoffs.
“Come on, Katsuki,” you pleaded. “You’re always working, and I’ve been stuck inside all day. Just a quick trip downtown to relax. Please?” You pouted slightly as you repeated the request, though your tone remained playful, knowing it would chip away at his defenses.
“Can’t we relax here? You know, like normal people?”
“Normal is boring. We can relax after we go out and see the town. Please? I’ll make dinner when we get back!”
Dammit, you knew how to pull at his strings.
Katsuki groaned, tugging at the tight fabric of his jacket. He hated the cold, hated the thought of walking around aimlessly in weather that bit at his skin. But as he looked at you—your hopeful expression, the way your eyes sparkled with the promise of something simple yet special—he sighed, already knowing he couldn’t refuse.
Knowing he’d already lost, he crossed his arms. He’d always had a soft spot for you (you must’ve put a curse on him once he gave you his valid “I do” at the altar, he thinks), and no amount of exhaustion could override the tug in his chest when you looked at him like that.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “But you’re carrying the hot chocolate if we get any.”
Your grin was instant, and you tugged at his arm. “Deal. Now hurry up and get dressed into something warmer before I change my mind.”
---
The streets of Musutafu were already in the holiday spirit, and it was only the first of December. The glow of streetlights reflected off frosted windows, and the faint scent of roasted chestnuts wafted through the air—it was a scent to appreciate. Katsuki’s hands were stuffed deep in his pockets, his scarf pulled high over his face, as he grumbled every so often about the cold or his aching shoulders.
“This better be worth it,” he grumbled, kicking a stray piece of ice off the sidewalk.
“It is worth it,” you countered, practically skipping beside him. “You’ve been so stressed lately, and this is exactly what you need—some fresh air and a change of scenery.”
“I’d rather have fresh air from our bedroom.”
You shot him a playful glare. “You’re impossible.”
“Yeah, and you’re a pain,” he shot back, though his lips twitched upward just slightly.
It’s also a good thing that not many were wanting his autograph or a picture because Bakugou was not in the mood to entertain anyone aside from you.
You led him to a small square near the center of town, where festive decorations were strung across trees and lampposts. Children bundled up in cute, thick winter clothes ran around as their fits of giggles filled the air, and vendors sold warm snacks and drinks from cozy stalls. You tugged him toward one of the benches, your excitement bubbling over.
“Look at this place! Isn’t it beautiful?”
Bakugou looked around, taking in the bustling scene. He begrudgingly admitted to himself that it wasn’t half bad—but he’d never say it out loud. Instead, he just shrugged. “It’s alright.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible to impress.”
“Not true,” he said, smirking slightly. “You impressed me.”
“Ok, sap,” you snorted, though you were quick to hide how it made you feel all giddy. “And did you know that—”
And Bakugou could only listen to you with his brows slightly knitted to an unamused expression, though he didn’t want to burst your bubble even if he was exhausted.
Without even noticing at first, the first snowflake fell, soft and delicate, landing on your scarf. You stopped mid-sentence, glancing up as more began to drift down, tiny, icy kisses from the sky. Bakugou paused too, his eyes narrowing as a flake landed on his nose.
“It’s snowing,” you murmured, a note of wonder in your voice.
Katsuki squinted up at the sky, unimpressed. “Great. Now it’s even colder.”
You ignored him, stepping slightly into the open square, your head tilted back as you let the snowflakes land on your hair and cheeks. Your face lit up with childlike wonder, and for a moment, Bakugou was suddenly reminded how lucky he was to be married to you.
Bakugou watched you silently, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. You looked radiant, the soft glow of the snow reflecting off your skin, your cheeks flushed from the cold. Your lips parted slightly as you caught a snowflake on your tongue, and you laughed softly at the sensation.
His chest tightened, his earlier complaints fading into nothing. The aches, the cold, his uncomfortable winter clothes—none of it mattered. All he saw was you.
You turned back to him, your smile warm and teasing. “You’re just going to stand there and sulk, or are you going to enjoy this with me?”
He huffed, walking toward you. “I’m not sulking,” he muttered.
“Sure, sure.” You reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers through his. “Come on, Katsuki. Isn’t this beautiful?”
He looked at you, at the way your eyes shimmered with glee, the way you smiled despite the cold nipping at their noses. “Yeah,” he said softly, surprising even himself. He’s most likely referring to you rather than the scene before him, more likely. “It is.”
“Wait, are you actually admitting you like something?”
“So? I like you, and we’re married. It’s not that shameful to admit the obvious, dummy.” He grumbled, though his hand tightened around yours.
“Not that! I meant it’s snowing; isn’t it beautiful?”
“Could care less about shaved ice falling from the sky.”
“Boo, you’re no fun,” you stuck your tongue out at him, and Bakugou did the same, which made you laugh.
You two stood there for a while, watching the snow fall around you, the rest of the world fading into the background. For once, Bakugou wasn’t thinking about work, stress, or anything else. All he could focus on was the woman beside him and how, for the first time in a long time, everything felt just right.
And even though Bakugou still hated the cold, he found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, winter wasn’t so bad after all—because it meant moments like this. Moments with you.
It must’ve been Christmas magic to see you during the first fall of snow, taking his breath away with how you looked, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything this damned world had to offer.
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SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
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revehae · 2 days ago
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girls goon too
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pairing ↠ jeno x (f) reader x haechan
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, stepcest, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving) / face fucking, virgin!reader, dubcon
summary ↠ jeno can’t take it anymore. you just won’t stop gooning in your bedroom for all the world to hear, and he’s tired of it. he’s pretty sure all you do with your spare time is watch porn. haechan suggests that he just jerks off, but his morals won’t let him; until he decides that he can’t hold back anymore. he has to shut you up.
wc ↠ 5.3k
a/n ↠ um
 i know i said No to Nohyuck but i saw these pics of jeno and started hearing The Voices. i hope you guys appreciate me losing sleep over this. as always, feedback is appreciated!
don’t like it, don’t read.
“she’s doing it again,” jeno grumbled, walking into haechan’s bedroom. only because the door was ajar, though. he knew the sight he’d walk in on if it was completely closed would be worse than what you were surely doing.
haechan snickered, eyes fixed on his computer. “what’s the occasion? sixth-month gooning anniversary?”
jeno scoffed. he didn’t know why you did it. he thought jisung was bad, but you were next level. “i thought surely she would give us a break for november.”
“and she did,” haechan quipped, moving his mouse. “for all of three days.”
that was true. for the very first three days of november, the house had been relatively quiet apart from haechan’s shouting when he was losing. then, on the fourth day, it was back to hearing your annoyingly perfect fucking moans in the afternoon.
and god forbid your parents would be coming home late. you were relentless on those days, touching yourself to no end. jeno couldn’t stand it. he hated minding his business, trying to rest or work or do anything that didn’t require thinking about the sounds you were making as you persistently edged yourself.
but he couldn’t help himself. sometimes, he could hear your moans even when you weren’t there, and that was when he knew he was finally losing what little bit was left of his goddamn mind. 
haechan, on the other hand, didn’t seem as miffed. jeno was certain his brother could hear the noises you were making down the hall, but he was sitting here without a care in the world, typing an email to his professor of all things. which made no sense to jeno, considering he knew how much haechan liked noisy sex.
“okay, i’ll bite,” jeno said, crossing his arms. “how in the hell are you okay with this?”
haechan shrugged, trying and failing to suppress a smirk. he was well aware of the fact that jeno always got worked up when it came to you, which was fair. you were the biggest minx this world had ever known. “well, first of all,” haechan started, snickering again. “there’s a thing called jerking off. i’m sure you’ve heard of it. it’s really popular amongst guys we know.”
jeno looked almost scandalized. “i’m not jerking off to my stepsister.”
“then, you’re an idiot,” haechan retorted. “she’s given us enough material until new years. of the year after next.”
“it’s wrong.”
haechan rolled his eyes. “you’ve got such a stick up your ass, like a proper princess or something.”
“i’ll beat your ass, hyuck,” jeno warned. 
haechan threw his hands up. “i’m just saying. i’m not telling you to stick her in a washing machine, bro. but the answer’s obvious. just jerk off. you know you want to.”
jeno sighed. had he thought about it? obviously. but he couldn’t shake how wrong it felt, even if you made him perpetually horny. “i want to smack the shit out of you right now, but i haven’t done it yet.”
rather than recoil, haechan laughed. that asswipe finds humor in everything, jeno thought to himself, irritated. “and i commend your patience, man,” haechan replied. “but it’s only making you more frustrated when you could just bust a nut and be happy.”
jeno was thinking about it now. well, he had thought about it countless times, but he had never allowed himself to stoop that low. you were his younger stepsister and it was his responsibility to take care of you. not picture your face as you moaned and imagine how you would feel, tight and sticky and creamy as you wrapped around his

haechan broke the silence, musing more so to himself, “maybe we should put her in the washing machine.”
jeno’s eyes flickered. “what the hell, man?”
“my bad,” haechan replied, although he didn’t look very apologetic. “i was just thinking out loud.”
fuck, now jeno was picturing that too. your house had one of those washing machines that opened from the top, not the front. too many times had jeno seen you struggle to take your clothes out, dangling over the washing machine and nearly falling inside. he would offer to help, every now and then, but he liked watching you climb the washing machine just to get your clothes from the very bottom.
it was much more realistic for you to get stuck in that than the kinds of washing machines in porn. 
haechan broke the silence again, still thinking. it was his greatest skill and simultaneously his worst habit. “if you’re so against it, why haven’t you just asked her to shut the fuck up then?”
that was a good question. jeno wasn’t the kind of guy to shy away from an altercation, not with friends and not with family. he had certainly never shown haechan any mercy. he loved his brother, but he was annoying as all fuck.
“i see,” haechan said, smirking. see, annoying. “it’s because you don’t really want her to stop.”
jeno sighed. “yeah, fine. i don’t want her to stop. happy?”
haechan burst out laughing. always laughing, always scheming. he was going to get a stocking full of coal for christmas. “i have an idea.”
“oh, god,” jeno groaned.
haechan finally pressed send on his email and turned around in his desk chair. “hear me out. we should fuck her.”
jeno gawked in disbelief. then again, none of haechan’s ideas were ever truly brilliant. “you’re insane,” he murmured.
“thanks,” haechan chirped, the insult rolling off his shoulders. “just sleep on it.”
“you know what? sure,” jeno replied, walking out of his brother’s room and shutting the door. he didn’t want to hear another word.
he went about his day like everything was normal, going on a walk so that he didn’t have to hear you, eating dinner and watching netflix in the living room to ignore the fact that you existed altogether. and then he went to bed.
jeno couldn’t fucking sleep. on it, over it, under it. he couldn’t sleep whatsoever. 
it wasn’t like you were just loudly moaning all day long, that would be absurd. but every now and then, there would be a whimper you’d let slip. jeno could tell that you were actually trying to be quiet. but this was one of those nights where your parents wouldn’t be back and you were taking advantage of that. again.
jeno decided that he was at his breaking point. the need for you was too goddamn strong and he was tired of pretending that he was better. he couldn’t ignore it anymore. he couldn’t fight it, suppress it.
he threw the blankets off his bed and went to haechan’s room, the door closed this time. he knocked on the door and called out, “stop jerking off and get your ass out here.”
jeno heard a groan, one of the disgruntled sort. a few seconds later, haechan opened the door, a scowl on his face. “what the hell, man? your voice ruined my nut.”
it was jeno’s turn to laugh. he clasped a hand on haechan’s shoulder. “don’t worry. you’ll be in the mood again in no time.”
haechan lifted a brow. “are you saying what i think you’re saying?”
jeno nodded. 
“we’re gonna teach her a lesson.”
“we’re gonna put her in the washing machine?”
jeno’s smile instantly dropped and his hand fell from haechan’s shoulder. “why the fuck are you both so addicted to porn?” he asked.
the excited shimmer in haechan’s eyes died a little. “no, i was
 i was just kidding. let’s go.”
jeno sighed and started down the hall to your bedroom, deciding not to argue haechan on that. it would be a waste of valuable time.
jeno knocked on the door and called out your name. “can we come in?”
there was audible shuffling as you called back, “just a moment!”
haechan glanced over at jeno. “so, how we doing this?”
jeno looked calm, collected. as if fucking his stepsister was something he did on the regular. “just follow my lead.”
you opened the door, a towel thrown around you. but your skin looked damp with sweat, not water. your face was a little flushed. it was obvious that you were naked. “um, can i help you guys?” you asked, somewhat breathless. 
jeno looked you up and down subtly. haechan, on the other hand, was damn near ogling you. the former repeated, “can we come in?”
“um, i guess,” you murmured, stepping out of the way so that they could enter your bedroom.
haechan closed the door behind himself, not that there was anyone to worry about. it was only the three of you in the house at the moment. 
jeno glanced away, looking for traces of what you had been doing. he found them very quickly; your laptop shut on your bed, the blankets messily thrown on top to conceal the damp spots in your sheets, and your shirt and shorts on the floor by your bed, implying you were only in your underwear.
“is there something you guys need?” you asked, a bit annoyed at having been interrupted. 
jeno walked towards your desk where your laptop probably should have been, though he saw something fearful flash in your eyes. his brows furrowed, but he didn’t inquire about it. he would figure it out on his own. “do we have to need something to want to visit you?” jeno asked, a small smile on his face. “i haven’t seen you all day long. we just wanted to make sure you’re still alive.”
“oh, that’s
 very sweet of you,” you murmured. “as you can see, i’m perfectly alive and breathing.”
“yeah, you’re breathing a lot,” haechan commented. 
jeno chuckled. he moved away from your desk and instead towards your nightstand, noticing your eyes still watching him like a hawk. “relax. what’s got you so worked up?”
“i’m not worked up,” you lied, eyes darting between him and your bed. 
that was when it clicked in jeno’s brain. the bed. you didn’t want him to see the bed. he chuckled again, sitting down on top of it. “are you okay? you look a little
 flushed.”
“yeah,” haechan chimed in, moving your hair out of your face. you jolted. you had been paying so much attention to jeno that you failed to notice haechan had creeped up behind you. “and sweaty.”
you released a shaky breath. you were nervous, but you couldn’t tell them that. because then they would start asking questions. “i’m okay, guys. you can go.”
“why are you trying to get rid of us?” haechan asked, leaning in a little too close. “it’s almost like you’re hiding something.”
“what are you watching?” jeno asked, grabbing your laptop. 
your eyes widened in horror. “no, wait!” you exclaimed. you tried to stop him, but haechan was quick to pull you back against his chest. 
jeno opened your laptop, being met with a twitter porn browser. he feigned surprise. “oh, wow,” he said, merely blinking. “wow.”
“what is it?” haechan called from the other side of the room. 
jeno turned the laptop to face you and haechan. “guess she’s really into
 creampies, sucking dick, and doggy style.”
your face was hot with embarrassment and you thrashed in haechan’s arms. “this is an invasion of privacy! you guys jerk off, don’t you?”
“jerk off? sure. watch porn for hours on end? no, i don’t,” jeno answered, setting your laptop down. he moved your blankets out of the way, revealing a few damp spots on your bed. “how long did you have to sit here for this to happen?”
you felt very exposed at the moment. like your deepest, darkest secret was steadily reaching its way around the whole world. “i’m not that bad,” you murmured, shy. 
haechan laughed. he tugged at the towel and brought his hand to your chest, pinching your nipple. “not that bad? you almost gave poor jeno over there an aneurysm with how enticing you’ve been.”
your whined when haechan squeezed your chest, tearing your gaze away from jeno to look up at him with wide eyes. “what are you doing?”
“fuck. yeah, that’s what i’m talking about, princess,” haechan groaned, pressing himself against your ass. “those sweet sounds have been driving him mad.”
any other moment, jeno would have narrowed his eyes at haechan and called him disgusting. but this was different. jeno didn’t care about what was right or wrong anymore. maybe he never truly had. what was certain right now was that any desire to behave in a morally acceptable manner was outweighed by the desire to fuck you brainless.
“bring her over here,” jeno said, shoving your laptop of the way to make room. 
haechan grabbed your waist and led you towards the bed, pushing you towards his brother. jeno grabbed your chin, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “gooning isn’t healthy,” he told you straightforwardly. “you know what you need?”
you glanced at him, fretful. the towel had completely fallen at this point, leaving you solely in your water, just as jeno had pieced together. “what?” you whispered.
“a fuck,” jeno replied unabashedly. “you’re so damn touch-starved. always complaining about how you want a boyfriend, but you never go out, because you’re too busy playing with your clit.”
your face was hot. honestly, they hadn’t given you the opportunity to cool down. but you had to admit that he was right. compared to how much you touched yourself, you didn’t go out enough.
“have you ever even had sex?” haechan asked, running his hands up your thighs. 
you wanted to hide so fucking bad, but that clearly wasn’t an option. “no,” you replied, ashamed.
jeno snickered, because apparently that was funny. “obviously,” he said, moving his thumb to your bottom lip. “this pretty body has gone untouched for too many years, that’s all. once you get fucked, you’ll be as good as new. worked for jisung. didn’t it, hyuck?”
“yep,” haechan chirped, nodding. “he was the biggest gooner i’ve ever seen. jaemin had so many roommate horror stories. then, we got him some pussy, and he’s all better now. actually goes outside and gets light that isn’t from his laptop.”
“so, what do you say?” jeno asked, turning your head back to him. “want something other than your fingers inside you?”
your heart racing. were you really about to agree to getting fucked by your stepbrothers? when it was over, you could blame it on the fact that you genuinely were touch-starved and desperate for a release for all this pent-up frustration.
and because you really, really needed to come after having avoided it for hours, you nodded your head.
“words, princess,” haechan said, his hands still gripping your thighs as he thought about how soft they were. “say it. say, ‘i want you to fuck me, haechan.’”
you swallowed, but you weren’t going to disobey. “i
 i want you to fuck me, haechan.”
“jeez, you don’t have to beg. i’ll do it,” haechan replied, playful as ever. “and because it’s your first time, i think we should do missionary. is that okay, princess?”
“that’s
 fine,” you murmured timidly. it didn’t really matter to you how he fucked you. you just wanted someone inside you. 
haechan was beaming, like he had prayed for this day and it was finally happening. “good. and if you ever want me to fuck you on all fours, you know the way to my room.”
the way haechan was looking at you was entirely overwhelming, so you glanced over at jeno instead, though he was also watching you intently. “what about
 you?” you asked. 
jeno chuckled, thumb sweeping over your lips. “i don’t need to fuck your pussy. i’ll leave that to haechan. i just want to fuck this pretty little mouth that’s been keeping me up at night.”
haechan, growing impatient, tugged at your panties. you lifted your hips, watching him drag them down your legs. “jesus,” he murmured. “they’re fucking drenched.”
“they better be,” jeno replied with a chuckle, stepping out of his pants. “long as she’s probably been wearing them.”
haechan spread your legs, wanting to get a good look at the treasure hidden between them. he moaned at the mere sight of your pussy, dripping with arousal. “fuck, you don’t even need prep,” he mused.
as if you couldn’t get any more embarrassed than you already were. they knew exactly what to say to make you want to hide your face beneath a pillow and hopefully suffocate to death.
despite his declaration about you not needing prep, haechan couldn’t help but drag his tongue along your folds, which made you gasp in surprise. it wasn’t a tentative lick, either; he was confident and unreluctant. you were clearly sensitive, but he didn’t seem to care, eager to suck and lick at you.
“haechan,” you whimpered, involuntarily trying to close your legs. he swore his dick twitched when you said his name like that. 
all the while, jeno was stroking himself beside you, half hard. for the first time thinking about you at the same time that he touched his dick, and god, he really should have done it sooner. just the thought of you made his blood pump harder. 
haechan pulled back after a moment or two when he was finally sated. “sorry,” he apologized, completely inauthentic. “just wanted a taste.”
jeno tapped your cheek. “open up, baby.”
you slowly opened your mouth, wide enough for him to push inside. which jeno seized the opportunity to do as soon as it presented itself. he was impatient now, tired of waiting. you had tortured him long enough with those pretty noises; it was time you paid him back for tolerating your horniness.
“fuck,” jeno cursed upon feeling the warmth of your mouth around his cock.
haechan snickered. it was amusing to him that only a few hours ago, jeno said he was insane for suggesting that they fuck you. and now here he was with his cock down your throat. a few hours could truly change a man, for worse and for better. “how’s it going?” haechan asked.
jeno closed his eyes, trying to go slow before he started fucking your throat with a purpose. he didn’t necessarily want to hurt you, but damn, he was getting pretty damn close. “how do you think?” he retorted.
you watched jeno as he slowly moved inside your mouth, though his patience was obviously dwindling by the second. part of you wanted to see what it would look like when he lost it all, but the other dreaded it, uncertain whether or not you could handle it.
you were still a virgin, after all. in the important and unimportant ways. you had never been fucked. you had most certainly never had your throat fucked until this very moment. the furthest you’d ever gone with a boy was a little bit of groping while kissing and even that was awkward.
haechan licked his lips, appreciating that they were coated in your arousal. “taste so good, princess,” he said, dropping his hands down to his shorts.
you would have gawked when you glanced down and noticed the dent in them, even if it weren’t for the fact that your mouth was preoccupied. when did he get so hard? 
haechan started to undress himself, pleased now that he had gotten a taste of you and eager to be inside you. he was quick to shed his shorts and the layer underneath, unafraid to show just how desperate he was. for him, it was easy to accept his attraction to you and even easier to act on it now that he had your consent.
he climbed onto the bed, grabbing your thighs again and spreading them apart. he gave them a few affectionate, departing kisses and sat up to grab his cock, bringing it between them. “say ‘goofer gooner’ if you’re ready,” haechan joked, knowing you couldn’t speak.
you furrowed your brows, but you couldn’t even focus on his nonsense because jeno was noticeably forgoing all restraint. could you blame him? your mouth was warm, alive, and everything about you seemed to drive him straight through the brink of insanity. 
“you know, jeno,” haechan started, gazing down at the little distance between your bodies. “you were right. i’m already in the mood again.”
you had that effect on him, on them. haechan knew he probably should have fought it better, but he truly saw no point. it was easier to fold and surrender to the fact that he found you infuriatingly sexy, despite your tendencies. and with nothing more to say, he slowly but surely pressed himself inside you.
haechan tipped his head back, already moaning like a bitch and he wasn’t even fully sheathed inside you yet. “holy fuck,” he said, his grip on your thighs tightening.
you whimpered, the sound muffled by jeno’s cock as his balls slapped against your chin. you immediately pulsed around haechan’s cock, clinging to him like now that he was there, you would never let him go.
“holy fuck,” haechan moaned again, stopping for a moment as if the breath had been completely sucked out of him. “so fucking wet, my dick just slides in.”
he was damn near flabbergasted. maybe there was benefit to you gooning for hours on end, a benefit that he got to reap. he had never seen anyone this wet before, much less felt anything this wet, and it was taking a toll on him. his head was already reeling.
“okay,” haechan said, more so to himself. he was adjusting. “okay. fuck. i’m gonna move.”
and he did, growing more and more mesmerized with every thrust of his hips. his mouth hung open, moans of your name and explicit curses dangling from his lips with a shrill touch to them that only made you even more aroused.
to say nothing of the sounds jeno was making, almost directly in your ear. he was so close to your face that you could explode. he was finally moving comfortably, fucking your throat with a rhythm that almost made it hard to breathe. 
though you had no intention of making him stop. you had fantasized about making yourself available for this purpose many, many times. not necessarily to your stepbrother, but well, it wasn’t like you were discriminating. especially not when he sounded so goddamn sexy and his face was tensing the way it was in pleasure.
it was strange, but you found yourself going from solely craving the experience to wanting to pleasure them. and it would appear that you were doing a fantastic job without hardly even trying, all things considered.
haechan was gripping on your thighs for dear life as if without the support, he would get blown away into the eighth dimension. or maybe drown in how wet you were, gushing around his cock, if not for him using your soft thighs as an anchor to keep him afloat.
“this sweet fucking pussy,” he sighed, losing himself in the vice of you. he had set a pace too, fucking you without intention of stopping. with every fiber of his being, deep and hard. “i could fuck you forever.”
you could sit here and take it forever. you had never felt so full in your life. your fingers hardly did the job, always reaching just shy of where you needed them instead of completely offering you the satisfaction you’d long craved. and here haechan was handing it to you on a silver platter.
the only problem was that you felt slightly overwhelmed with so much happening at one time in two different holes. you didn’t know who to pay attention to; jeno fucking your throat with a vengeance, eager to gain something out of your mouth for once, or haechan railing you to kingdom come, making you feel hot everywhere.
you found yourself trying to juggle both, eyes flitting between them, moaning around jeno’s dick at haechan’s angled thrusts and throbbing around haechan at every guttural groan that slipped from jeno’s mouth. you couldn’t help yourself; it was too goddamn arousing.
jeno noticed how fucked out you looked, eyes rolling back to another timeline, and it was doing unimaginable things to his cock. you looked better than he could have ever imagined and he knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied until he left you hoarse and rasping.
with that thought, he grabbed your hair to push you down and started to fuck your head against the mattress rather roughly, which caught you by surprise. you tried to take it, you really did, but it was overwhelming. you could barely breathe.
“take it,” he hissed, holding your head in place. you looked pretty like this, struggling to keep up with his hectic movements.
your eyes were watering as his cock went too deep for you to handle, and you started gagging. jeno moaned, but pulled your head off him to let you relax for a second, a string of saliva connecting your mouth and the head of his cock.
“breathe,” he said, letting one hand run through your hair almost tenderly.
you nodded, willing yourself to relax. all the while, jeno marveled at how pretty you looked with saliva on your face and tears strolling down your cheeks.
“you guys okay up there?” haechan asked from between your legs, having noticed the action. 
“we’re fine,” jeno answered on your behalf. he moved his hand from your hair to your cheek. “you ready?”
you nodded your head. you couldn’t shake the urge to really make him proud, to satisfy all his inappropriate cravings. it was the least you could do when you had been tantalizing him for months on end.
“good girl,” jeno whispered, guiding his cock back to your mouth and this time using your hair to push your head onto his cock as he fucked your throat.
you moaned at the pet name, because something about the way it sounded coming from him made your head spin. maybe you were just horny and in dire need of a fuck like he’d said. maybe after you came, all of these feelings would wear off, and you would feel somewhat sane again. 
but you couldn’t deny that you were somewhat indulging in your fantasies here. you didn’t necessarily hate the the way jeno was treating you, even if it was a little beyond your limits and more than a little rough. but limits were just boundaries you’d yet explored.
haechan was a different situation altogether. your pussy was still sensitive from the hours of playing with it and you were already about to come much before him. there was a familiar heat in your stomach and festering throb of energy in your core, only more intense than you had ever experienced.
but haechan recognized it, even without being able to hear your sweet moans of his name. he could see it in your body language and it flattered him in a way; he always felt proud when he lasted longer than the person he was fucking, especially without necessarily even trying to finish them quicker.
“she’s gonna come,” haechan pointed out, grinning. “come for me, princess. come on this dick. you know you want to.”
it was like he your voodoo doll or something, because merely seconds after those words parted from his mouth, you were shuddering and tightening around his cock with climax, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your toes clenching.
haechan let out the pitchiest moan ever when you throbbed around him repeatedly. words could not describe how good it felt, but sounds could. and the sounds he was making were sensational, only contributing to the mind-numbing pleasure wrecking you from within.
“goddamn,” haechan said, mesmerized by how hard you came. it was probably warranted after hours of resisting.
but the other thing on haechan’s mind was how much wetter your pussy sounded, sticky with your release. he whined, literally going mad. he knew that his own orgasm wasn’t far out and just the squelch of your cunt could easily finish him off.
jeno was facing a similar predicament, fucking your mouth without restraint and not letting you escape his thrusts. “fuck, i’m gonna come,” he groaned. “swallow it. or don’t. it’s your sheets.”
the last thing you of all people cared about was having your sheets ruined. at the moment, you were more burdened with how sore your throat felt and how overstimulated your pussy was being fucked despite having already orgasmed. it literally felt like you’d had the soul fucked out of you.
you didn’t even know it was possible at this point, but jeno’s hips went faster. it was a brutal but steady pace, which was somewhat admirable. he was trying to get himself there, right over the edge, knowing release was only seconds away.
with a few more smacks, jeno released down your throat with the sexiest groan you’d heard, one that claimed every award. when you’d milked him of every drop, his hands tight on the sides of your face, his grip on your head slacked and he slowly pulled your mouth off him.
you swallowed what you could, but he had came so goddamn much at once, it was borderline ridiculous. what you couldn’t take dripped down your chin, blending with the saliva from the messy fucking.
haechan glanced up at you and the sight of your cum-stained face triggered something so primal in him that he knew he wasn’t going to last another minute. “princess, where do you want me to come?” he asked breathlessly.
“inside,” you replied with maybe half your voice, if even. it hurt to speak. the sound pleased jeno.
the thought of coming inside your pussy had haechan levitating and was the last push he needed to bring himself past the cusp of ecstasy. his hips stuttered as he came inside you, crying out half of your name, leaning on top of you as he buried his load inside your warm, wet, gushing, sticky hole.
a satisfied hum escaped you when you felt his cum seeping inside your pussy. why did it feel so good?
“d-don’t move yet,” you whispered, because it was all you could muster.
haechan glanced up at you, recognizing the look of pleasure on your face. if he had the energy, he would tease you about how you wanted to feel him cum inside you, but he needed to catch his breath. so he answered with a nod.
jeno whistled. this had gone better than he’d hoped. “well goddamn. you’re just a virgin slut aren’t you?”
haechan chuckled breathlessly. “she took that shit like a champ. i’m impressed.”
jeno kissed your forehead. “you did so good,” he whispered, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “i’ll get you some water in a second.”
you nodded, appreciating the tender side after all that had just happened. your heart felt a little lighter than usual, despite its racing. you had so many questions, but you didn’t want to strain your voice. was it normal to feel like a different person after having sex for the first time?
haechan was going to pull out, but seeing the look on your face, he decided to stay nestled inside you for a little longer. “you okay?”
you bobbed your head. “i’m good.”
haechan snickered and teased, “whoa there, batman. what have you done with my sister?”
you rolled your eyes, but giggled. jeno joined in on the laughter, but he added, “don’t speak. you’ll make it worse.”
haechan sighed contentedly. knowing that you wouldn’t say anything in response, he decided to tease, “our little gooner.”
you glared at haechan wordlessly, conveying a lot of different things with your eyes. 
jeno translated playfully, “i think that means ‘fuck you.’”
“again?” haechan joked. “what can i expect from a gooner. but hey, i guess girls can goon too.”
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