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#MY CAT AND THESE WOMEN ARE WHATS KEEPING ME GOING
annabellebuns · 8 months
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Head of Hotel Moscow
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smute · 1 year
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“But it’s such old hat,” said Ursula. “Why should love be a bond? No, I’m not having any.”
“If you are walking westward,” he said, “you forfeit the northern and eastward and southern direction.—If you admit a unison, you forfeit all the possibilities of chaos.”
“But love is freedom,” she declared.
“Don’t cant to me,” he replied. “Love is a direction which excludes all other directions. It’s a freedom together, if you like.”
“No,” she said, “love includes everything.”
“Sentimental cant,” he replied. “You want the state of chaos, that’s all. It is ultimate nihilism, this freedom-in-love business, this freedom which is love and love which is freedom. As a matter of fact, if you enter into a pure unison, it is irrevocable, and it is never pure till it is irrevocable. And when it is irrevocable, it is one way, like the path of a star.”
“Ha!” she cried bitterly. “It is the old dead morality.”
“No,” he said, “it is the law of creation. One is committed. One must commit oneself to a conjunction with the other—for ever. But it is not selfless—it is a maintaining of the self in mystic balance and integrity—like a star balanced with another star.”
“I don’t trust you when you drag in the stars,” she said. “If you were quite true, it wouldn’t be necessary to be so far-fetched.”
“Don’t trust me then,” he said, angry. “It is enough that I trust myself.”
“And that is where you make another mistake,” she replied. “You don’t trust yourself. You don’t fully believe yourself what you are saying. You don’t really want this conjunction, otherwise you wouldn’t talk so much about it, you’d get it.
He was suspended for a moment, arrested.
“How?” he said.
“By just loving,” she retorted in defiance.
He was still a moment, in anger. Then he said:
“I tell you, I don’t believe in love like that. I tell you, you want love to administer to your egoism, to subserve you. Love is a process of subservience with you—and with everybody. I hate it.”
“No,” she cried, pressing back her head like a cobra, her eyes flashing. “It is a process of pride—I want to be proud—”
“Proud and subservient, proud and subservient, I know you,” he retorted dryly. “Proud and subservient, then subservient to the proud—I know you and your love. It is a tick-tack, tick-tack, a dance of opposites.”
“Are you sure?” she mocked wickedly, “what my love is?”
“Yes, I am!” he retorted.
“So cocksure!” she said. “How can anybody ever be right, who is so cocksure? It shows you are wrong.
He was silent in chagrin and weariness.
They had talked and struggled till they were both wearied out.
“Tell me about yourself and your people,” he said.
And she told him about the Brangwens, and about her mother, and about Skrebensky, her first love, and about her later experiences. He sat very still, watching her as she talked. And he seemed to listen with reverence. Her face was beautiful and full of baffled light as she told him all the things that had hurt her or perplexed her so deeply. He seemed to warm and comfort his soul at the beautiful light of her nature.
“If she really could pledge herself,” he thought to himself, with passionate insistence but hardly any hope. Yet a curious little irresponsible laughter appeared in his heart.
“We have all suffered so much,” he mocked, ironically.
She looked up at him, and a flash of wild gaiety went over her face, a strange flash of yellow light coming from her eyes.
“Haven’t we!” she cried, in a high, reckless cry. “It is almost absurd, isn’t it?”
“Quite absurd,” he said. “Suffering bores me, any more.”
“So it does me.”
He was almost afraid of the mocking recklessness of her splendid face. Here was one who would go to the whole lengths of heaven or hell, whichever she had to go. And he mistrusted her, he was afraid of a woman capable of such abandon, such dangerous thoroughness of destructivity. Yet he chuckled within himself, also.
She came over to him and put her hand on his shoulder, looking down at him with strange golden-lighted eyes, very tender, but with a curious devilish look lurking underneath.
“Say you love me, say ’my love’ to me,” she pleaded.
He looked back into her eyes, and saw. His face flickered with sardonic comprehension.
“I love you right enough,” he said, grimly. “But I want it to be something else.”
“But why? But why?” she insisted, bending her wonderful luminous face to him. “Why isn’t it enough?”
“Because we can go one better,” he said, putting his arms round her.
“No, we can‘t,” she said, in a strong, voluptuous voice of yielding. “We can only love each other. Say ‘my love’ to me, say it, say it.”
She put her arms round his neck. He enfolded her, and kissed her subtly, murmuring in a subtle voice of love, and irony, and submission:
“Yes,—my love, yes,—my love. Let love be enough then. I love you then—I love you. I’m bored by the rest.”
“Yes,” she murmured, nestling very sweet and close to him.
—from Chapter XIII - “Mino”, Women in Love by D. H. Lawrence
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arolesbianism · 5 days
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The difference between how I enjoy Olivia and how I enjoy Jackie is that I like to imagine Olivia dying in deep and symbolic ways that leave a deep scar on the people around her that will still manage to die out before her death can reach its climax and I like to imagine Jackie being hit by a car and exploding
#rat rambles#oni posting#and if you know me youd know that both of these are equally affectionate lol#olivia appeals to me by being am extremely interesting character and a complicated person#and jackie appeals to me by being very easy to boo and throw tomatoes at#theyre both sad divorced middle aged women but jackie is easily the worse of the two and the more pathetic of the two#olivia has deep moral and philisphical crisies and jackie throws a hissy fit over her ex wife throwing a party its not a competition lol#like jackie is such a manchild of a woman and thats exactly why I love her#I do also have serious thoughts feelings and hcs abt her too but those are a result of her growing on me and that was a result of her being#a sad wet cat of a woman who is such a shitty person for no good reason#she had reasons but those are mostly just hand waves nowadays#and even back when she did genuinely believe in doing things for good rather than solely progress it still was shaky reasoning#point being she ruined everything for everyone including herself and it was for no good reason and I love that abt her#also I love my design for her so she gets bonus points by leeching off of my artistic talents or whatever#shes sooo silly actually (incorrect)#olivia is also silly I will forever obsess with 'tiny baby!' and her various puns and jokes as the pod#it rly makes you wonder what they were like back before they were doomed toxic yuri and were simply doomed yuri#I have my hcs ofc but yknow#their date nights were probably just them sitting in a mcdonalds for 17 hours straight discussing theories and doing their college homework#and then their study nights were them getting blackout drunk and crying their eyes out and having gay sex or smth#in the modern day they both absolutely refuse to drink unless theyre home alone they can't trust themselves in the slightest#anyways obligatory 1 am post made time to go to bed and keep being offline as hell
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inkskinned · 3 months
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before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.
you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"
and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.
it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.
you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.
in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.
the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.
you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.
after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.
the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.
you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.
#warm up#writeblr#this is also about being ace btw#my identity has slowly shifted over time and maybe if everyone is REAL cool i'll talk bout it#bc it's complicated and nuanced. but this is like#trying to warn u that if you find it “relationship upkeep” to have sex with ur partner#and don't actually enjoy it or seek it for urself. u might just not be attracted to them.#which is fine ! ace ppl can be perfectly happy in any relationship they feel good in!#but also i wasn't as straight as i had expected!#> the first time i saw dick i was like. huh. oh okay that's fine i guess#> the first time i saw pussy i was like. WAIT ACTUALLY HANG ON I GET IT#i just assumed sex wasn't all it was cracked up to be ya know#but also like. btw? this IS NOT saying ''u might be gay not ace''#bc tbh i'm grey ace/demisexual#it's saying u might not be into ur partner. explore urself & ur feelings. turn inward.#TAKE THIS IN THE MANNER IT WAS MEANT> GENTLE AND KIND#AND NOT IN A WEIRD INTERNET WAY PLEASE#bc the truth is that there ARE ppl who are gay who assume that they just ''don't like'' sex#and ace ppl who might need a different partner w/different needs#and i would have REALLY needed to hear ''check in w/urself about if u actually like sex''#WAY EARILIER in my life. but nobody said anything bc they assume if ur having sex. u like it.#not just the actual act of sex. not once ur turned on. do you ACTUALLY like it. or is it a burden?#even if ur gay. check w/urself. maybe ur more ace than u realized. in which case. ADDITIONAL FLAG BB#i love collecting my flags. i'm at like 354 at this point#but also btw this is about how toxic relationships are SO normalized that u can be in one#and have everyone around u being like ''THATS JUST MEN LOL''
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I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:
AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?
I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.
For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.
None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.
The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.
He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.
I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."
I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.
Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?
What are these acronyms?
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huggingkoalas · 4 months
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𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐭 | natasha romanoff
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pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!avenger!reader
summary — ‧₊˚ riding a motorcycle should be similar to riding her face, right?
word count — ‧₊˚ 1.8k
warning(s) — ‧₊˚ smut, use of vibrators (using a literal motorcycle), mentions of ‘exhibitionist’/‘voyuerism’ kink, mentions/use of ‘mommy’ kink, pet names, teasing, cursing, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha
authors note — ‧₊˚ am i going absolutely feral over nat's motorcycle scenes in age of ultron and black widow? yessir :P + this fic is inspired by this tiktok edit of nat too <3
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“Will you teach me how to ride, Nat?” You asked, stopping your gentle scratches on her scalp.
Natasha, lying on the bed with her head on your lap, turned her attention from the movie playing on the television to you. Amused, she raised her eyebrows, her infamous smirk on her lips. “Are you talking about my face?”
You slapped her hard on the arm and shook your head in amusement. “I meant the motorcycle, you weirdo.” 
“Ouch, that hurts.” Natasha hissed with a pout on her face. 
Both you and Natasha knew she could handle physical pain since she was literally the Black Widow. Even if she didn’t have superpowers like Thor and the Hulk, she was still one of the most powerful women in the world. Fighting the desire to roll your eyes, you played along with her antics. You rubbed her arm, eyes twinkling in faux pity while mouthing ‘sorry’. 
“I read the mission reports everyone sent from the Ultron Offensive mission. I had no idea you knew how to ride a motorcycle.” You remarked, continuing your featherlight strokes along her hair. You wish you were there that day. If you witnessed Natasha riding a motorcycle, skillfully navigating through traffic and avoiding danger, you’d be drooling right away.
“I guess it just never came up. I wouldn’t mind teaching you, though. It would be hot if you rode something other than my face.” Natasha teased.
“Nat!” Your cheeks turned bright red from her comment. “I-I mean, you’ll have to teach me the basics first, though. I don’t think I’m ready to drive one yet.”
The thought of driving a fast vehicle sent shivers down your spine. Despite feeling scared, you wanted to impress your girlfriend. Maybe if you tried something dangerous, like learning how to ride a motorcycle, she wouldn’t keep calling you a scaredy cat.
“I can teach you the basics now.” She replied, removing her head from your lap and sitting up.
“N-Now? You sure?” You hesitated. “I mean, sure, yeah, okay.”
You didn’t think she’d teach you how to ride a motorcycle now, but you weren’t complaining. Natasha intertwined your fingers with yours, dragging you to the garage quickly. 
You could see the excitement in her eyes as she led you to the garage. The green in her eyes was brighter than usual, and you couldn’t help an endearing smile appearing on your face. Seeing this side of her made your heart melt. Sometimes, she reminded you of a puppy.
Your eyes adjusted to the amount of sunlight flittering through the ceiling-to-floor windows once you reached the garage. It was your first time here, and the spaciousness of the area amazed you. Numerous cars, including SUVs and Humvees, were lined neatly side-by-side. Your gaze immediately spotted the familiar black and red motorcycle you had read in her mission report.
“What’s its model again?” You asked, walking to the motorcycle and running your fingertips along the tank cover before resting your palm on the leather seat.
“It’s a Harley-Davidson LiveWire.” Natasha walked up behind you, resting her hands on your hips. “It’s brand new. The motorcycle from the mission got totalled, so Fury and Stark had to buy me another one.”
“Yeah, I know. I had to deal with financial reports afterwards. It’s... really expensive.” You turned your head to look up at her, leaning up to kiss the tip of her nose. “Only the best motorcycle for the best woman in the world.”
“Enough compliments or I’m bringing you to my room and showing you how much you’re the best woman all night.” Natasha husked, her teeth tugging at your earlobe. Her hot breath whispered in your ear, making you weak to your knees.
She released herself from behind you, her famous smirk on her face as she noticed your flustered state. “Alright, get on the motorcycle.” She said, her voice an octave lower than usual. You looked at Natasha, and she was looking at you with darkened eyes. 
You both knew what that tone meant. It was the tone she would use on you when you were writhing on her sheets, moaning her name over and over again as she brought you to multiple orgasms. Both of you knew what the tone did to you. You’d willingly get on your knees and do anything she asked if she used that sultry voice again.
Clearing your throat to brush your mind off the filthy thoughts your brain had come up with, you inquired. “Won’t it tip over if I get on it?”
Natasha lets out a short laugh as you shoot her a nervous look. There’s a mixture of amusement and something else entirely in her green eyes. You're not sure. She’s making you even more nervous than you already are.
“See that little stick on the side propping up the bike?” With a nod of your head, she points to the black pedal holding the vehicle up. “That’s a kickstand. The bike doesn’t magically defy gravity, and it certainly doesn’t fly.”
You wanted to wipe the smug grin off Natasha’s face. Normally you’d make a snarky remark now, but instead, you let her off with a shrug.
“I promise to catch you if, for some reason, the kickstand doesn’t do its job, detka (baby).” The use of the pet name relaxes you a bit, and you nod your head.
“Fine, I trust you. Is there... A specific way to get on it?” You asked.
“Just mount it, lyubov’ (love). It’s the same as riding on my face.” Natasha replied in a teasing tone. Your head snaps towards her, and your cheeks warm. Her arms are crossed, and her biceps are clearly visible as she wears a black sleeveless sweater. You know you won’t survive the rest of the lesson if she acts (and looks) like this.
You grab the handles and slowly swing one leg over the seat. Your feet barely touch the ground, and you’re tiptoeing while sitting on the vehicle. 
“I think the motorcycle is too tall for me.” You looked at her with a frown.
Natasha expertly climbs onto the bike behind you. “Shortie.” She taunts.
“Careful!” You exclaimed, holding onto the handlebars as the bike tilted left and right due to her movement.
You shift in your seat, getting used to the weird position. The motorcycle seemed larger between your thighs. Furthermore, there were a bunch of pedals, levers, and buttons. You were familiar with what the side mirrors do, but you were not sure what everything else does.
Your heart pounded in your ears. The seat slope caused Natasha's body to press up against you. You shudder slightly as you feel her breasts press up against your back. You tried to make yourself comfortable, but her breath against the back of your neck sent a small shiver down to your core. 
“You’re so tense, detka (baby). Do I make you nervous?” She rests her chin on your shoulder, her hands running down your arms to take your hand in hers while you hold the handlebar.
“You’re sleeping on the couch if you don’t shut up right now, Nat.” You replied, gritting your teeth. As much as you liked her relentless teasing, the heightened adrenaline and fear in your body spiked your anxiousness.
“You’re so cute when you’re angry, lyubov’ (love). Let’s start the lesson then.” Natasha said, turning her attention back to the task at hand. 
She turned the key in the ignition on. The rumbling of the motor startled you as the engine started to thrum softly beneath you.
“I’ll put it on neutral since you’re not driving.” She added.
You nodded your head. You had a license to drive a car, so you knew some driving language. But even though you had experience driving a car, you knew that riding a motorcycle was something completely different. You could feel your heart racing and your grip on the handlebars trembling slightly.
“The lever above the left handle is the clutch lever. The one on the right is the lever for the front brake.” Natasha continued, showing and explaining the parts and their functions.
You couldn't concentrate. The vibration of the engine below you and the slight vibration of the seat had your attention instead. You pursed your lips and nodded as you pretended to understand what she was teaching you.
Closing your eyes for a moment, your breath caught in your throat as Natasha’s lips touch the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Are you listening to me?” She murmured against your skin.
You pursed your lips and speak shakily. “Y-Yes.”
Natasha smirked as she watched your face, she could clearly see that your mind was somewhere else entirely, exactly where she wanted it to be. “I can make you feel even better...”
“This is the throttle handle that gasses the motor.“ She taps a finger on the right handle. She slowly turns the handle towards you, her wrist applying pressure, and the engine revs louder.
“Shit, Nat-” You gasp out loud, the vibrations beneath you getting stronger the more she turns the handle. You feel even more wetness gathering in your panties.
“Nat,” You whimpered with desperation. “Please, I..I-”
You arch your body against her and throw your head back against her shoulder, enjoying the vibrations from the seat. Natasha almost moans at the sight of you aching for her. She gently pulls your shirt off, throwing it behind her. The cold air sends goosebumps down your arm and her left hand rests on your thigh, squeezing and kneading your clothed thigh.
“Shh... Quiet. You don’t want someone to walk on us like this, do you?” She warns you.
Your lungs are struggling for air as you gasp. Shame and desire course through your veins at the thought of someone catching the both of you in this position. You bite your bottom lip, biting it hard you think it might bleed. 
“Want me to go faster?” She asks in a sultry voice. Without waiting for your response, she twists the handle down quickly, the seat pulsating quickly and louder.
Your torso jolts forward and you can’t stop the moan that leaves the back of your throat. Your panties and pants are sticking to you uncomfortably as the leather seat vibrates harshly against your folds. You’re rutting down onto the seat desperately, aching for release. 
“I-I’m close, Nat, don’t stop, please-” You somehow manage to plead through the haze.
You moan loudly as she revs the engine loudly once more, and you scream ‘mommy’ as you orgasm, stars blinding your eyes as your body shakes with bliss. Your arousal sticks to your thighs and pools onto the leather seat below you as you come down from your high.
Natasha switches off the ignition once you finish tumbling over the edge. The vibration and the sounds from the motorcycle quiet down, and all you can hear is your increased heartbeat and the silence of the garage. You feel your legs and body twitch slightly from the orgasm. 
You turned your head towards her, seeing a shit-eating grin on her face. “Wow, ‘Mommy’, huh? That’s a first.” She teased, licking her lips. “I’ll have so much fun cleaning the bike later.”
You groaned, hiding your face in her neck. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” 
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pseudowho · 6 months
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Defending Your Honour
A series in which the JJK guys stick-it to the creeps and perverts bothering the reader.
A multi-fic in a series ❤️🫖☕
Part Two (Takuma Ino, Higuruma Hiromi and Itadori Yuuji)
Part Three (Gojo Satoru, Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara, Inumaki Toge and Fushiguro Toji)
More JJK men and women to come
Trigger Warning: train gropers, flashers and unwanted sexual advances
Nanami Kento
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"Quick, Kento! We'll miss the train."
"This one's packed. We'll get the next one."
"Come on! We can make it!"
With a squeeze and a groan, you and Kento squash yourselves into the packed carriage, the air a humid perfume-deodorant-sweat miasma. You faced Kento's chest, his back to the door. As the doors closed, squashing you to his chest, you shoot him a playful smirk as he glowers down at you, only half-serious.
You lean up to give him a sweet peck on the lips as the train jolts to a start. Kento wraps an arm around your waist as you wobble, although barely, your movement corseted by the tight pack of people around you.
The train rattles through tunnels, dipping in and out of orange lights. As the train goes through a particularly dark tunnel, you feel a set of fingers inching between your legs to the inside of your thigh. You cringe, clamping your legs together, which doesn't dissuade the hand from climbing up the back of your thigh, lifting your skirt to rub the cleft of your bottom.
When light flashes back into the train, the hand doesn't stop. You're paralysed, eyes stinging with tears, constricted by the crowd around you and unable to move to stop your assailant even if you wanted to.
Kento is looking down at you, frowning, concerned; what's wrong? His eyes ask you.
You whisper, voice shaking, "A hand-- someone's hand-- touching me--"
Kento blinks once, and his face clouds, deep rage settling in the crinkles and lines as his narrow eyes scan the people behind you. Within moments, his eyes settle on someone behind you, his eyes narrowing further until they're snakelike. You feel Kento's hand leave your waist as both arms wrap behind you, waiting.
A minute later, your train pulls to the next platform, and Kento pulls you off. Behind you on the train, a circle has formed around a man on the floor, crying and screeching, cradling two badly broken hands, bloody, twisted and ruined.
You hiss at Kento as you're pulled away up the stairs, "What did you do?"
Kento scowled, "I've got strong hands, he had wandering hands. Had."
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Todo Aoi
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"God, it's so busy. I don't think we'll make it to our table in time," you stressed, Aoi head-and-shoulders above you as he tried to see a path through the crowd. Halloween in Shibuya was always heaving, and throngs of costumed celebrants slid past each other like eels.
Aoi looked behind him to you, breaking into what he assumed was a charming smile, and you rolled your eyes at him as he squatted down, his hands out behind him like steps.
"Get on my back, babe. You'll get lost, I'll get us to the restaurant-- win win."
"Me getting lost is...a win?" Aoi blinked, gears grinding as he reconsidered his words. Smiling (charmingly, again) and opening his mouth to talk (again), you raised a hand to stop him, exasperated.
"I can keep up. It's fine. Let's go."
"That's my girl." Aoi grabbed your hand as you weaved together through the crowds. You found it harder and harder to keep up, body buffeted from side to side by faceless monsters, vampires, sexy cats, and you felt Aoi's hand slipping in yours, holding tightly to his knuckles, now fingertip to fingertip until--
With a pluck, his hand slipped out of yours. You tripped, stumbling, unable to see above the sea of heads, and you slipped sideways into an alleyway to get out of the thronging masses. Breathing in a sigh of relief, you turned your back to the street, knowing Aoi would turn back to find you.
Your breath caught in your throat when, on turning, you come within two arms-length of a middle-aged man, in a heavy coat...completely exposed, as he stared at you, thrilled and smug. You gulped, flushed, bizarrely exposed and humiliated and trapped, as if you had your genitals flung out for the world to see, and you opened your mouth to scream for hel--
"Oh, man. Is that all you're working with? You're no brother of mine." The flasher grimaced, scowling for a moment as his eyes fixed behind you, and he took a single step backwards before--
*CLAP*
-- the crowd in the street behind you quietened for just a moment, enough to hear the sounds of a single rattling empty beer can, spinning in the flasher's place...before a cacophony of screams, laughter and appalled shouts poured into the alleyway. You gaped like a fish as Aoi pulled you gently to him.
"Are you alright? I'm sorry I lost you."
"I"m-- I'm fine-- did you just use your technique on that guy?"
You heard a ruckus at the mouth of the alleyway, watching your flasher's legs skittering as he was bodily dragged away by Police officers, arguing and bargaining.
Aoi grinned rakishly, thumb and forefinger framing his jaw, "Did you like that? Nobody flashes my girl but me."
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Geto Suguru
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"Keep our table! I'll get us some drinks. You want...?"
Suguru rested a single bent finger against his temple, narrow eyes looking you up and down fondly; "You know what I like."
You skipped away through the buzzing bar, blowing Suguru a kiss as you went; most of the patrons were two or three drinks deep already, and you pushed through a hen-do, apologising loudly to get to the bar.
You stood at the bar, tapping your fingers as you waited to catch the bartender's eye, and you felt a big hand slip around your waist from behind. You turned, grinning, leaning in for a kiss--
"Oh! God, sorry," you cried as the beer-breathed stranger laughed as if he knew you, and you cringed as he leaned back into you.
"No harm done baby, thought I was gonna get lucky there," he shouted over the music, flecks of spit peppering your face and lips.
"Nope! Not tonight I'm afraid--" as you moved to pull away, his hand tightened around your waist, skimming down to cup your hip, pulling you closer, squeezing--
"-- look, can you get your hands off--"
The stranger raised his hands off you dramatically, waving them in your face, barely concealing aggression behind an easygoing facade; "Just trying to have a good night like everyone else here, sweetheart, so you could just loosen up--"
You turned your back, flushing with confrontation, almost tearful as you tried to attract the attention of the bartender. You felt hot breath on your neck, the same unfamiliar hand on the small of your back--
"So you got a boyfriend, then?" You swallowed hard, closing your eyes for a moment, desperate to be left alone.
"She has," Suguru crooned, voice mercurially smooth as he slowly took the stranger's hand off your back, his eyes black, flat and cold. You had never been happier to see him in your life, and you pressed yourself against him, back still to the stranger. The stranger's lips rolled inwards, an irritated tongue dabbing out to lick them.
"Sorry bud, didn't realise she was here with anyone--"
"-- but scum like you always respect an absent boyfriend more than a girl telling you no, right?" Suguru's voice could have frozen water. The stranger excused himself without another word.
"Come on," Suguru gently urged, "I don't like this bar anymore. Let's go somewhere else."
As he slipped an arm around you, walking towards the doors, you heard frantic shrieking behind you; the stranger writhed and squirmed on the floor, frantically undoing and shoving his trousers down, kicking and shouting in alarm.
Suguru smirked; "Had that weird little snake curse in my pocket for a while now. Even better, he can't see it."
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Will do some more of these; always more Nanamin, but also the other JJK crew too!
Part Two (Higuruma, Ino and Yuuji) LINK HERE!
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daycourtofficial · 5 months
Text
I’m Still Bejeweled
Summary: based on this ask - Azriel’s been busy lately with his work, unable to delegate. You’ve had enough and decide to try to get his attention by going out to Rita’s with Mor and Nesta.
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You knew what you signed up for when you started seeing Azriel. You knew at times it would be difficult due to his trauma and his job - which is why it surprised you easy it is to love him.
The past few weeks he has been flooded with work. Azriel is very good at his job, but his biggest flaw is his inability to delegate. You know most of his work right now could easily be delegated to the spies he trains himself, however that doesn’t make it easier for him to actually pass the task off to someone else.
You’re tired of asking him to take a day off, to see him more than at night when he comes to bed. You want to spend time with him outside of your bed, so you and Nesta decided to do something about it.
You were getting dressed, Azriel’s attention never straying from the papers at his desk as you do so. You contemplate the merits of this plan as you put your hair up to show off your neck and shoulders.
You’re wearing a dress Azriel bought you with the intention of taking it off of you. Pitch black, thin straps holding it up on your shoulders, a hemline that barely covers your behind, a triangular cutout across the top to peak at your breasts.
It was a dress that drove him wild - and he wouldn’t even look at you. Putting on your earrings and necklace, you take one final look and head out. Azriel’s attention be damned - you looked hot and you were going to have fun with Nesta and Mor no matter what.
Azriel didn’t look up until you had walked out the door of your room, his shadows urging him to look the whole time you were in the room.
Pretty, pretty, pretty.
Their whispers resounded in his ears, practically begging him to look up. He had gotten used to it over the years he had known you - his shadows thought you were the prettiest thing in the world, constantly annoyed when they couldn’t just look at you all day.
He glanced up in time to see your backside walking out and the realization of what dress you were wearing made him stand up, causing his knees to hit the desk.
He slides out from under the desk, abandoning his report in search of you. He remembered you saying something about Mor - dinner? Dancing?
He can’t recall, but he’s only ever seen you wear that dress to Rita’s, using it to keep him by your side all night. “You’ll have to spend the whole night by my side keeping others males away from me,” you had told him once.
He bats the memory away as he follows your scent through the house, attempting to intercept you before you left. Surely you weren’t leaving dressed like that without him.
Unfortunately Cassian decided to turn the corner at the exact moment Azriel was, causing the two to collide.
“Whoa where’s the fire?” Cassian asks, mocking his brother’s hurried steps. Cassian peers behind himself, at where you had just passed him a moment ago, and chuckles. Azriels growls in response, his instincts dialing up the further away from him you get. Cassian shakes his head and laughs at his brother, thumping his hands on his shoulders as he moves to pass him. “Ah, women. Wonderful creatures.”
Cassian walks away as Azriel continues following your scent. He knows you’re playing some kind of game, teasing him like a cat with a mouse, he just can’t figure out what the game is. He thinks back to your most recent discussions, only to come up a bit blank. His feet move down the steps of the house depositing him to the streets of Velaris, where your scent has mixed with Mor and Nesta’s. He keeps following you, thinking about your last conversation. You had asked him to take the day off, he had declined, keeping focus on the task he was doing.
He stops dead in his tracks, a pedestrian running into him at the abruptness of his stop. Oh Gods, he thinks, I didn’t even look at her. That conversation was days ago, surely he’s spoken to you since? Showed you love and affection?
His mind comes up empty, the days passing by him in a blur of papers and strategizing. When was the last time he kissed you? Held you? Talked to you?
He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the Sidra as he picks up his pace again. Azriel has figured out what game you’re playing - you want him to grovel.
For you? Anything. He’d crawl to you if it’s what it took.
The sounds of Rita’s flood your senses as you dance with Mor and Nesta. You know Azriel isn’t purposely ignoring you, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting. You decide to let go, enjoy the night, the music, the dancing.
The three of you take the dance floor, getting lost in the sounds, letting go of the stress the week brought. You don’t really even register the male dancing with you until you open your eyes and meet a green gaze.
He smiles at you, reaching out to put his hands on your waist when a larger make intercepts you, pushing the offering male out of the way.
“I believe I have first dance with the lady,” he says to you. The other male throws his hands up in shock, but quickly leaves at seeing the face of the male who took you.
“What’s a beautiful creature like you doing here?”
You turn to look at him, his hungry gaze taking in every inch of your dress. You smirk, staring into the hazel eyes you adore. Azriel has relaxed a bit now that you’re in his arms, a place where he doesn’t have to worry about fighting off other males.
“I was hoping I’d find a male who wants to actually spend time with me. My boyfriend won’t stop working and hardly makes time for me these days.”
You pout a little at him as he comes closer, swaying with the music a little. “He sounds like a fool, letting you come here alone, not paying you any heed.”
You take a sip of your drink, the alcohol warming your stomach as it went down. “He certainly is a fool. I’m much more interesting than silly reports he has to write.”
He smiles as he looks to the floor. “Can I dance with you?”
You tip your glass up to your mouth, finishing off your drink. “After you buy me another drink.”
He leads you to the bar, ordering what you had just finished off. The bartender hands it to you, and you ask him, “what brings you here?”
He smiles down at you, his hand going around your waist, “I had a feeling I’d find my future wife here tonight.”
You look around the bar, pointing over to the corner where Nesta stands. “Is that her? She looks delightful.”
Azriel follows your finger as Nesta gives him a scowl for 1) his earlier treatment of you and 2) for interrupting girl’s night. He laughs, offering her a two finger salute. She offers one finger in response.
“I am not a strong enough male for her.”
“I don’t think such a male exists.”
You face each other, leaning against the bar.
“What does she think of your inattentive boyfriend?”
You peak over at Nesta, who has moved back to dancing on the floor with Mor. “she thinks he’s usually better than this.”
“Oh?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow at you.
“She likes him a lot, just thinks his priorities weren’t in the right place for the past few weeks.”
He smiles, a hand caressing your waist. “So she likes the two of you together?”
You look into his face, meeting his gaze again. “Oh yeah. Just the other night she got drunk and went on and on to me about how much she liked us.”
His thumb starts grazing across your hip.
“She told me how she loves the way he looks at me.”
“And how does he look at you?”
You smile up at him, “supposedly like I’m the sun and the stars, like the lone light out on the open ocean.”
He smirks, “quite impressive to have him ensnared to you like that.”
Your eyes dance with the light of Rita’s, “I’m a great lay.”
He throws his head back and laughs, squeezing your hips. “Is that it? You seem like much more than that.”
Your hands connect with his hips, “and what do I seem like?”
His eyes have that look that only happens when he’s looking at you, the first of his undivided attention in so long causing you to buzz more than the alcohol could.
“Like what’s the point in doing things if you aren’t there? Like maybe life could be so much more than I ever imagined because of you. Like burdens aren’t so heavy if you’re holding my hand. Like I’ve never really taken a full breath before. You feel like a warm hearth and I’ve spent my entire life afraid of fire, but you taught me it can do more than burn.”
He reaches a hand out, moving a piece of your hair out of your face.
“At least, that’s what you seem like.”
Tears line your eyes at his words. The two of you have been together for years at this point, so his devotion is no secret. He was a man of few words, but he opened up to you more and more as time goes on. He whispers sweet words to you all the time, but never in such a public place.
He holds your face in his hands, so softly, as if he could shatter you.
“I would crawl home to you.”
You can’t take it anymore - this game, Rita’s, the hands on your hips. You surge forward, pulling his hips to you and your lips meet his. You pour everything into the kiss, pour everything into him. The neglect you’ve felt, the love you feel for him, how badly you want things to be okay.
The kiss starts off slow and hungry, his lips soft against your own. As it continues, it becomes more ravenous and harsh, and by the time you come up for air he’s winnowed the two of you home.
Your shared bedroom is dark and cold, but your body heat quickly warms the room. Azriel puts a hand on your jaw as he kisses down your neck, soft, delicate kisses.
“I’m sorry,” he says, a kiss between each word. “I neglected you.”
He pulls his head up to look at you. “Sometimes I’m still that little boy, unable to use his hands, feeling I need to prove myself to have a spot somewhere.”
He sighs, his grip tightening on you to remind himself that you’re here.
“Sometimes I just… feel like I have to keep proving myself to my family and that’s why I overwork myself.”
You touch his jaw, a movement he leans into. “You never have to prove yourself to me. And I promise - no one will find you unworthy if you delegate and take days off.”
He smiles into your hand. “And if they do - they’ll have to deal with me.”
He laughs fondly, “my attack dog girlfriend.”
You balk at his clear teasing. “I’ll have you know I’m quite scary and strong. In your absence these weeks I’ve been training with Cassian.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “and have you beaten Cassian in a fight?”
“No,” you sigh, “but once I was able to pants him, pushed him over and ran away.”
He throws his head back laughing, “well let’s hope any naysayers will be wearing pants for this altercation.”
You capture his laugh in a kiss, knowing that you’ve made progress with him. It will take time for him to learn how to delegate, but you feel confident he’ll get there.
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tightjeansjavi · 1 year
Text
𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐃𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐫.𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫?
Joel Miller x f!reader
NSFW🔞
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A/N: this is a result of my post gym ✨horny✨ thoughts. I love to think that Joel can be a whimpering mess, every now and then. You’re welcome ♡ ♡ ♡
Summary: You get jealous seeing the women in Jackson throw themselves at Joel. You decide to give him a gentle reminder of who he belongs to.
~word count : 4.3k~
Warnings: smut with no plot, established relationship, sub! joel, feral/dark! joel, soft! joel,needy! joel, possessive joel! is going to tear you apart! joel, dom/brat reader, unprotected p in v (wrap it kids) oral receiving (male) fingering, light choking, knife play, teasing, edging, light bdsm, consent, consent, consent, nicknames, praise kink, cockwarming, cream pie, cum eating, cum play, uhhh yeah a whole lot of filth! Not much else to say! (+18) MINORS DNI SERIOUSLY THIS IS STRAIGHT UP PORN.
Songs used:
“Freak” by Doja Cat (just trust me on this one y’all)
“Tear You Apart” by She Wants Revenge
“…Ready For It?” By Taylor Swift
“No Good” by KALEO
“Dinner and Diatribes” by Hozier
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You never considered yourself to be a naturally jealous person. You had no reason to be. The people of Jackson knew well enough that you were Joel’s lady, and he was your man. You never had to worry about getting hit on at the Jackson bar, or while on patrol, because no one dared to even look at what belonged to Joel. The women of Jackson? They were a little more ballsy than you thought.
You knew your man was handsome. Hell, he was fucking beautiful in your eyes. You’d see some of the single women, and even some of the happily taken women, fawn over your man.
Could you really blame them? He was definitely a sight for sore eyes. You’d watch them touch his arm, laugh at something he’d say and that’s when your jealousy began to bubble deep in your gut.
Didn’t these women know Joel belonged to you? Did he remember who he belonged to? Perhaps you needed to give him a gentle reminder.
Your man had arrived home late one night after being on patrol. You could hear his heavy boots from where you stood in the kitchen, you heard him mutter under his breath about his bad back as he hung his rifle up alongside yours. Joel was currently looking forward to a well deserved, hot shower and a good cuddle with you, his lady. He knew however that something was off because you never would leave the lights off. You kept them on usually on the nights you knew he would be getting home late.
He called out your name.
“Baby? You down here? Where are you, my sweet girl?”
He heard your soft footsteps padding from the kitchen and then your face appeared soon after. He wasted no time to grab you by the waist and pull you flush against his chest. “Hi honey, I was just waiting up for you.” You softly spoke while draping your arms around his neck. “How was it out there?”
“Mmm. Hi Sugar. Why were all the lights off? You usually keep ‘em on for me. S’alright out there. Long fuckin’ shift, and all I could think about was comin’ home to you darlin’.”
You gave him a sweet kiss, gently playing with the ends of his hair through your fingers. “Yeah, baby? I’m sorry it was a long shift. Are you tired? Here, how about you sit down? You’ve been on your feet all day.”
Joel kissed you back immediately while he tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you in as close as he physically could. “S’alright. Feet and back are fuckin’ killin’ me though, sweet girl. Is Ellie home?”
You slowly pulled away from the kiss, sliding your arms down from around his neck and brought your hands down his chest. “C’mon i’ll take care of you, okay? She’s at Dina’s. They’re watching a movie so we’ll have the place to ourselves all night.”
“You had me at we’re gonna have the place to ourselves all night darlin.’” a chuckle vibrated up his chest. “Did ya have somethin’ particular in mind baby?”
You unwrapped his arms from around your waist, grabbing his hands as you brought him into the dining room. “I knew you’d love the sound of that Joel. Go on, take a seat honey.”
He raised an eyebrow in your direction as he tried to gauge just exactly what it was that you were up to. When he took too long for your liking, you placed your hand on his chest and firmly coaxed him down into the chair.
“What’re—”
He was cut off when you had climbed into his lap, straddling his hips while you brought his arms behind the chair, holding his wrists together firmly.
“Shhh. You trust me, right baby? I just wanna take care of you. Treat you real well but first, I think you need a gentle reminder of who you belong to.”
Joel’s eyes had immediately widened when you ever so casually climbed into his lap. His own frustration began to bubble when you brought his arms around the back of the chair, preventing him from touching you. “Course I trust you honey. Whad’ya mean you need to remind me who I belong to? Baby, I belong to you. You and I both know that.”
“Do the Jackson women know that you belong to me? I see the way they fawn over you Joel. You think I don’t notice? They practically fall to their knees when you’re around.”
Joel chuckled, leaning his head back against the chair with a smirk on his lips. “Do I sense a bit of jealousy in ya? I see the way they act around me sugar. I don’t pay ‘em any attention. Don’t need to when I’ve got you. By far the prettiest girl in town. Can confidently say I am one fuckin’ lucky man.”
Joel was too focused on you in his lap to notice that you had pulled a strand of thick rope from your pocket. He barely felt you tie his wrists together behind the chair, till it was too late.
“Yeah, you are one fuckin’ lucky man, Miller and you better remember it.”
He let out a strained noise from his throat when he realized you had successfully tied him to the chair and his eyes narrowed in on you. “Fuckin’ minx. You really just go and tie me to the damn chair?” He let out a low growl.
You were the one smirking now as you leaned in close to his face, your lips nearly touching his. “I did baby, I told you I’m going to take care of you. Just trust me on this okay?” You spoke in a sickly sweet tone.
Your words traveled down his neck, past his thighs and settled beneath his jeans where his cock had twitched slightly. It didn’t take much to get your man going and you were pretty proud of that.
“So you tied me to the damn chair? You gonna punish me, sweet girl? You got it in you to do that to me baby?”
You brought your fingers around his throat, tipping his chin back slightly as you brushed your lips over his, taking his lower lip between your teeth, biting down on the soft flesh as you tugged it out. Your actions elicited a low groan from his chest.
“Oh, I think you and I both know I’ve got it in me baby. You gonna be a good boy for me, or are you gonna be difficult?”
You quite literally stole the air from this man’s lungs. All the blood was draining straight down to his cock. God, you were so filthy and he loved every second of it. “I’ll be a good boy for you darlin’, only if you promise to give me your worst.”
His pupils darkened as he looked up at you, desperately wishing he could fucking touch you as he pulled against his restraints on his wrists.
“I promise you I will, baby.” You cooed and his eyes nearly rolled back into his skull.
You dragged your fingertips along the thin skin of his throat as you leaned down over him, bringing your lips to the shell of his ear, kissing the skin right below. It was the spot that you knew drove him crazy. “You let me know if it’s too much and you wanna stop. Okay honey?”
He felt a shiver run down his spine from your lips along his neck. “I know darlin’. I got you, you got me.”
Your relationship with Joel had been built around trust, and consent. It was important to you both, and no matter what the situation was between you, consent was always at the forefront.
“Good boy.” You whispered against the shell of his ear as you reached into your pocket and pulled out a blindfold.
His jaw went slack as you tied the fabric around his head, covering his eyes from your view.
“You’re about to fuckin’ ruin me, aren’t you baby?” He rasped out, feeling his senses on overdrive now that he could no longer see you.
“Gonna do a lot more than just that, honey. You just sit back and relax. I got you.” You pressed another kiss to the spot below his ear before you slowly dragged your lips down his neck, nipping and biting at the thin skin as he hissed under his breath, turning his head to the side slightly so you would have better access.
You dragged your sinful tongue down the expanse of his throat, you could feel his pulse quicken as your fingers began to expertly undo the buttons on his flannel, exposing his skin to the warm air as you let your fingertips trace down his collarbones, brushing over his nipples as they descended down over his navel.
His stomach went taut under your soft, feather light touches. He had sucked in a harsh breath as his cock twitched in his jeans once more. “Baby, please. Don’t fuckin’ keep me on edge like this honey. Please, I’ll be a good boy, just like I promised.” Your man begged you.
You popped the button off his jeans and tugged the zipper down. Offering him a brief moment of relief as you tugged his jeans down over his broad thighs, listening to the fabric fall down his ankles, and settle above his boots.
His breath hitched in his throat when your fingers lightly brushed over his growing bulge in his boxers. He was so big, so thick, the fabric was straining and could barely hold him.
What you did next? Completely through your man for a loop. You had unsecured your knife from your holster, dragging the edge of the blade down his chest, over his navel. The coolness of the metal against his hot skin was a delicious combination.
He tugged on the restraints hard, the chair scraping on the old hardwood floor when the edge of your knife dragged across his covered bulge. Your man fucking whimpered.
“Darlin’, is that your knife baby? What’re you gonna do with that, huh?”
You kept the edge of your knife lightly pressed against his bulge. You could feel his thighs quiver beneath you, and his cock twitch once more as you leaned in, and whispered against his ear, “Who do you belong to, Mr. Miller?”
He let out a string of curses past his plush lips, stuttering over his words as he was already a whimpering mess beneath you and you had barely touched him. “Yours baby. I’m all fuckin’ yours. All yours.”
“Good boy.” You hummed as you removed the blade from his covered bulge, placing it down on the table before you wasted no time to free him from his constraints. Watching his cock spring up against his stomach. The tip was leaking with precum, all thanks to you and your filthy words. Your mouth was already salivating for a taste of him.
He could no longer feel the weight of your body on his lap. He heard the chair scrape slightly as you got down on your knees in front of him. He wanted to fucking see your pretty face, your irresistible eyes on him, but the fabric on his eyes, blinded him from experiencing that pleasure.
“Gonna have a taste of you now, okay baby? Dying to have one.”
“Fu—fuckin’ hell darlin’ you tryin’ to send me to an early grave talkin’ like that—“
He lost his voice the moment your pretty lips wrapped around his aching tip. You swirled your tongue against the veiny head, collecting his precum with ease.
You dragged your lips and tongue down his thick length, feeling him twitch again as he let his whimpers flow through his lips freely.
“You taste so sweet, honey. What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue baby?”
Joel growled frustratingly as he gave the restraints another good tug but they wouldn’t budge and he was completely at your mercy.
“That’s my fuckin’ line darlin’” he groaned.
“Yeah?” You hummed against his length, letting your fingers grasp his balls, giving them a little squeeze. “Well, now it’s mine. Deal with it.”
“You little—”
You had wrapped your lips back around his tip, slowly sliding your wet, hot mouth down over him, as you slowly began to bob your head at a delicious pace.
“F-f-fuck—darlin’ that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna be the death of me. Not gonna fuckin’ last long like this.” He groaned while bucking his hips up slightly, desperately wanting more.
You brought your free hand, that wasn’t playing with his balls, around his thick thigh. You sank your nails into his skin, dragging them downwards as he let out a hiss, digging the heels of his boots into the floor.
You could feel every ridge, every vein against your tongue as you continued to suck him off, your teeth lightly scraped against his length as his tip hit the back of your throat. You knew how to take him well, but there were still tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. You fucking loved having his cock shoved down your throat like this. You loved the way he whimpered out your name, just from your mouth and tongue wrapped around him.
“Fuck—fuck baby you gotta stop soon, please! Fuck. I’m seein’ stars right now. Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ well in that pretty little mouth. S’pretty, just for me.”
Your throat tightened around him slightly as you held him there for a few moments, nearly gagging around him before you slowly lifted your head up, releasing him from your mouth with a pop. You had saliva dripping down your chin that he would have absolutely loved to see, along with your pretty swollen lips.
He heard your own jeans start to be taken off as he listened to the fabric hit the floor with a soft thud as he anticipated your next move on him.
“Where’d you go, darlin’? Can’t feel ya anymore..you better not be fuckin’ leaving me down here tied up like this—”
You had sank back down into his lap, your covered, aching cunt brushing against his swollen tip as you let out a low hiss from the friction. “Mmm. I’m right here baby. I wouldn’t be that cruel to leave you tied up like this..don’t give me any ideas though, okay? Not finished with you yet.”
He let a whine slip past his throat when he could feel your cunt rub against him, as you rolled your hips into his slowly, eliciting another frustrated groan from him, and an eager moan from you.
You reached your hand up, untying the fabric from his eyes and tossed it to the side, his eyes were immediately locked on yours, his jaw clenched so tightly, he could cut something with how sharp it was.
“You gonna fuckin’ let me touch you baby? Or not yet? Gonna keep me on the edge? Fuckin filthy little whore you are. M’so fuckin lucky.” He whimpered.
You brought your fingers through the back of his hair, gripping it tightly as you yanked his head back, rolling your hips into his once more. “Do you think you deserve to fuck me right now, baby? You think you deserve to fill me up with your cock? C’mon, answer me.” You demanded
Joel’s jaw went slack at your words as he swallowed hard. You were something fucking else entirely and he was at a loss for words.
“I’ve been a good boy, haven’t I baby? C’mon, sweet girl. Let me fill you to the fuckin’ brim. Please. Please. Please. Want to feel your warmth around me so fuckin’ bad. Give into me darlin.’ Take me however you fuckin’ want.” He rasped.
He watched as your hand slid down between your bodies, pulling your panties to the side, revealing your slick pussy to his greedy eyes as you dragged your fingers through your arousal. Swirling your fingers against your clit as you kept your eyes locked on his. “Bet you wish you were touching me right now, huh baby? I’m so fuckin’ wet for you. Don’t you wish you could have a taste? Mmm, your fingers do a much better job than mine.” You purred, wasting no time to slip two of your fingers inside, pumping them slowly on his lap. “I’m so fucking tight, Joel. Don’t you wanna feel me baby? Feel how fucking tight I am for you.”
Joel frankly had enough with your teasing. He nearly had drool dripping down his chin as he watched you with hooded eyes. He watched your fingers, slick with your own arousal, disappear inside your tight cunt. The squelching sounds of your wet pussy had his eyes rolling back as he kicked the side of the table with his boot, frustratingly.
“Goddamn you. Fuckin’ filthy. Look at you fuckin’ yourself on my lap. Fuckin’ should be my fingers filling you up right now. You little minx. Do I have to fuckin’ beg you? Your pretty little pussy is fuckin’ purring for me baby. You gotta let me out of these things, please baby. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please fuckin’ let me touch you.”
“No.” You spoke sweetly, between moans. “Keep fucking watching me Joel. Keep watching me fuck my pretty little pussy.”
“You are so goddamn lucky that you tied a fuckin’ good knot. Gonna fuckin’ ruin you when I get out of these baby. Just you fuckin’ wait.” He growled. He was unable to tear his gaze from your fingers fucking yourself, even if he tried. He was absolutely intoxicated with you.
You slipped your fingers out of your mouth slowly, they were dripping in your arousal as you brought them up to your lips, licking them clean right before his very eyes as he kicked the side of the table once more.
Your man was absolutely feral.
You grabbed the base of his cock then, dragging his tip against your slick folds, his arousal and yours mixing together. When you finally, sank down onto him, he let out the most delicious fucking sound you had ever heard. The mix between a groan, and a whimper as you sank down to the hilt, bringing your arms around his neck. “Filling me up so good already, baby. See what happens when you’re a good boy? You get rewarded.”
His breath hitched in his throat when you rolled your hips into his. He could feel every inch of you slide around his cock, and just as you started to get into a rhythm, rising and falling over his thick length as your walls gripped around him deliciously, the rope around his wrists snapped, falling to the floor.
His hands were on you before you even had the chance to open your mouth. You were positively fucked.
“Now, it’s my fuckin’ turn.” He had immediately grabbed ahold of your hips, roughly pulling your chest flushed against his as he fucked into you, his balls slapping against your ass while his nails dug into your hips harshly. “You fuckin’ like that baby? You naughty fuckin’ girl. Hope you enjoyed your fuckin’ little game while it lasted baby.”
His lips were attacking every inch of your skin, between your neck, collarbones and breasts, he was absolutely ruining you with his mouth. nipping, biting, sucking on your tender flesh as he fucked into you, drinking in your moans around him as you let him finally have control, not that you had much of a choice. You knew it was only a matter of time before the restraints would snap.
He had grabbed you from your ass, lifting you up onto the dining room table, while still buried deep inside of you. He brought your legs over his shoulders as he fucked into you, with your back firmly planted against the table.
When you had reached down to touch yourself, he smacked your hand away, grabbing both of your wrists and slammed them down above your head, holding them down with one hand. “No.” He growled.“You don’t get to fuckin’ do all of that to me and then think that you can touch yourself, baby. You’re mine now. You fuckin’ got that? All. Fucking. Mine”
“Joel—fuck! Please baby, I was only having a little fun! Please, are you going to let me cum?” You whimpered, tugging your lower lip between your teeth as you looked up at him with those eyes that would send any man’s knees buckling.
Joel let out a deep chuckle, using his free hand to close in around your throat, his thumb pressing against your windpipe as he leaned down, bringing his forehead against yours, drinking in your moans as his lips crashed into yours, your teeth and tongues clashing together. It was a rough, heated kiss. One that was absolutely scrambling your brain. “You think you fuckin’ deserve to cum? You think you deserve that?” He mumbled into your lips, holding you completely captive beneath him.
Your breath was caught in your throat as his thumb squeezed along your windpipe slightly, just enough for you to feel it. The pain, mixing with the pleasure, you fucking loved it.
“Please, Joel! Please let me cum, baby! Don’t you want me to coat your cock? You gotta let me cum otherwise I can’t—”
He slammed his hips into yours, knocking your back against the table, stealing the air from your lungs. “What was that? Sorry, sugar. Can’t hear you above the sounds of my cock tearing your pretty little pussy apart.”
You let out a choked sob when his tip had hit the spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Your body was beginning to tremble beneath him and you nearly cried when you finally felt his thumb working your clit to the very edge.
He had released your wrists just so you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and sink your nails into his skin, he knew how much you loved that.
“So fucking close, Joel! So close! Thank you baby, thank you!” You praised him.
Both of your bodies were slick with sweat as his thrusts began to grow uncoordinated and sloppy but despite this, he was still working his thumb over you, stumbling over his words as he groaned out your name.
“That’s it, my pretty fuckin’ filthy girl. Gonna cum around my cock? Gonna coat me? Wanna see you leaking out on the fuckin table when I’m through with you. Think you can handle that honey? Wanna see my fuckin’ cum drippin’ out of that pretty little pussy.”
It didn’t take long for either of you to hit your impending high. It crashed around you, sending white hot pleasure up from your core and through your whole body, Joel shuddered above you, as your pussy milked him of every last fucking drop. He kissed all over your face, praising you for being such a good girl as he gave one last deep thrust, before collapsing on top of you.
This is how it always ended. Joel buried deep inside of you while he grew soft, yours and his cum leaking out of you, while you would cradle him against your chest, running your fingers through his sweat soaked hair.
The post orgasm calm was your favorite part undeniably. You loved the lazy, sex stained grin your man would give you. God, he always looked so pretty after a proper fuck. He’d kiss you slow, deep, letting his tongue slip into your mouth while your fingers would gently scrape against his beard.
“I wanna see more of that in the future.” He mumbled into your lips, kissing you languidly.
“Yeah? You liked that?”
“Fuckin’ loved havin’ you take control like that baby. Do it whenever you want, kay?”
You let out a soft giggle, pulling away from the kiss to get some air as he let out a small whine, he wasn’t ready to stop kissing you just yet. So instead, he let his lips kiss all over your face, your cheeks, chin, nose, your eyelids. He couldn’t get enough of you.
“I will definitely be taking control more often, baby. I can promise you that.”
“Good.” He hummed, pressing one more kiss to your nose, lightly nibbling on it before he slowly slipped out from your warmth.
“We made quite the mess together honey. Dripping all down the fuckin’ table.” He chuckled, dragging his finger through your cum mixed with his, before he licked his finger clean, shooting you a wink.
You sat up slowly, your heart beat had returned to normal as you watched your man with a small grin as he collapsed back into the chair, kicking his boots off along with his jeans before he gathered the pile of clothes up into his arms to take them to the laundry room.
“I fuckin’ love you, you know that?”
“I know you do, Joel. I love you too.”
He leaned down over you, kissing you sweetly once more. He left to drop the clothes off in the laundry room before he grabbed a towel. He was always big on after care so you laid there, waiting for him.
He gently wiped between your thighs, and then the table before he was scooping you up into his arms. He helped you wrap your legs around his hips as he carried you upstairs, smiling to himself when he could feel your thighs tremble, all thanks to him.
One well deserved hot shower later, and you and your man were curled up in bed together. You were the big spoon tonight because you know how much he loves to be held by you.
You were his lady, his girl. He was your man. Your fellow, your guy.
4K notes · View notes
norris55s · 8 months
Text
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she devil - charles leclerc
(black cat) ferrari driver reader x (golden retriever) charles leclerc social media au
a/n: the concept is stone cold driver meets sunshine driver, is infected by the happiness, and is cool with it because she fell in love. face claim is bella hadid :) ❤️
requests are open!
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scuderiaferrari
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liked by 2,034,924
scuderiaferrari: We are extremely proud to announce our 2024 driver line up: Charles Leclerc, Il Predestinato, and Y/N L/N, La Diavolessa. We are certain this is a step closer to bring the championship back to Maranello, and to our Tifosi. ❤️
view all 5,724 comments
charles16s: why is she named La Diavolessa?
y/nsupremacy: she’s from Italy and the tifosi have loved her forever, so they nicknamed her She Devil because of how she drives
y/ncupid: i have been dreaming of this for YEARS
leclercfosi: i wonder how she’ll team up with charles, she has always been a handful lol
fallingfory/n: she is a great sportswoman. women don’t have to be complacent to be good people, fck outta here w/ that narrative
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y/nusername
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liked by 1,925,024
y/nusername: Ferrari 2024.
view all 2,034 comments
charles_leclerc: Give them hell. Welcome to the team! ❤️‍🔥
sebastianvettel: I’m sure you will bring glory back to Maranello ❤️
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y/nusername:
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y/nusername: New season, new cars. That was a great first race.
view all 2,395 comments
charles_leclerc: 👊❤️‍🔥
scuderiaferrari: We are so proud of you!
lewishamilton: Welcome, huge start 💪🏼
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y/nusername
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y/nusername: Amazing team results so far, let’s keep up the good work after the summer break.
leclercstarlight: miss girl doesn’t smile much does she
wildflowery/n: imagine being in 2024 and still being a “you should smile more” ass bitch, she’ll smile when she wants to
charles_leclerc: Amazing season 🏆❤️‍🔥
eurougeleclerc: he’s so whipped lol i’m calling it not
ferrarisduo: me when im delusional
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charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc: We did everything to maximize our results today. Big congrats to y/nusername for her first win; so very happy for you! ❤️‍🔥 The pizza celebration was better than anything.
view all 2,875 comments
y/nusername: Thank you, Charles. You’ve been a great teammate.
alliny/n: what goes ON
shadowleclerc: she gives kimi and i love it
mastermindy/n: she’s like race win? cool
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y/nusername
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y/nusername: Things didn’t go to plan in my race, but I’m genuinely happy for charles_leclerc. We will be back stronger.
view all 2,078 comments
y/nsupremacy: y’all don’t get it she’s SMILING after a dnf because of A MAN
y/nhaven: she also literally defended for him. strategy had already fucked her up but the fact that she wasn’t coming for his throat… she must really like him lmao
charles_leclerc: Thank you, Y/N. Couldn’t have done with without you ❤️‍🔥
midnightcharles: he keeps using the heart fire emoji i can’t lmfao
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formulanews
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formulanews: Charles and Y/N have been interviewed together for GQ magazine, and they were asked about the nature of their relationship as teammates or friends. Charles said: “I think the world of her and I admire her mentality and race craft a lot. I also think she is a great friend to me and everyone around her, I don’t know why people think she isn’t. Y/N brings a lot of passion to the grid.” Meanwhile, Y/N told the publication: “Charles is a good guy, and a better driver. Being his teammate is fruitful; so is being his friend.”
view all 245 comments
starleclerc: y/n doesn’t speak much but when she does it’s meaningful
y/nheart: charles also spoke so highly of her like wow
leclercsplanet: honestly charles likes her a lot and y/n also seems comfortable with him which unusual
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f1waggossip
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f1waggossip: We are as shocked as anyone else but Charles and Y/N have been seen acting very cozy on a yacht in Monaco. New relationship just dropped, out of literal nowhere!
view all 1,035 comments
lovebirdleclerc: THERES NO MF WAY
eurougeleclerc: i was called delusional I CALL IT MANIFESTING
y/nhaven: what, and i can’t stress this enough, the fuck just happened
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y/nusername
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y/nusername: Love :)
view all 6,024 comments
charles_leclerc: my sweet girl ❤️‍🔥🤍
y/nhope: i am fainting rn like actually afraid for my life rn
dazzlingleclerc: pinch me fr
landonorris: she does smile everyone, i’ve seen it when they (disgustingly) kiss
danielricciardo: don’t be so jealous (it’s true, it’s disgustingly sweet)
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charles_leclerc
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liked by 2,034,835
charles_leclerc: She is actually an angel 🤍❤️‍🔥
view all 4,035 comments
y/nusername: Still she devil, just in love.
charles_leclerc: Give them hell forever.
carlossainz55: Can I just say you’re welcome for leaving Ferrari and letting Y/N join?
1K notes · View notes
dilvuc · 2 months
Note
henlo! can i request clingy multiple hsr charas after their beloved is going on a business trip for two weeks? the reader is male, and i hope that you will be okay if i request it to be long, love 🫶💐
(*if you can't make it long, or don't have the feeling to, I'm fine if you make it short! 🌹)
❝WHEN THEY GET CLINGY WITH YOU❞
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𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: fluff
𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗: male
𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖑𝖊: when they get clingy
𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: jing yuan, dan heng il, blade, dr. ratio, aventurine x m!reader
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: none
𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: they get clingy with you after you return from your business trip after two weeks
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╰┈➤ JING YUAN
“Jing Yuan. It was only a two week business trip. You really miss me that much?” you sweatdropped as you held the clingy general in your arms. jing yuan has his arms and legs wrapped around you tightly with his face buried in your neck, “Two weeks without you is making it hard for me to concentrate. If I were to let go of you, you might leave for good.”
you sigh and pat the male on the back, “You’re overthinking it…”
“He has been calling me by your name and clinging onto me like I'm a cat.” yanqing sighed, “Thanks aeon you're back.”
“He’s such a man-child.” you deadpanned. ever since you returned, jing yuan stayed close to you at all times and never wanted to keep his eyes off of you.
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╰┈➤ DAN HENG IL
“Dan Heng…” you sweatdropped. dan heng hummed, “Hm?”
“It was a two week business trip.” you said. the dragon-hybrid nodded, “I know.”
“Then…” you trailed off as you turned your attention to dan heng's tail wrapped around your waist, “You wouldn't mind removing your tail…?”
“No…It's safe this way.” dan heng declined. it's crazy that he's being clingy without you telling him that he's being clingy. it was a two week business trip. dan heng wouldn't let you go or let you out of his sight. how cute….
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╰┈➤ BLADE
now, this is when it gets wild. after you return to your two week business trip, blade become more possessive of you. why is that? he has been keeping his close eyes on you and been following you. plus, whenever you try to get up to go somewhere, he just grabs you by your arm and asks where you're going or says that he'll join you.
“Blade. It only happens once…” you sweatdropped. blade clenched on your arm, “Two weeks was long enough…”
“Geez. You're clingy…” you deadpanned.
“Shut it.” blade scoffed.
“My, look like you can't go on a mission anymore, [Y].” kafka chuckled. “Let me say this, Bladie misses you a lot. It's quite oblivious. He has been muttering your names while you were on a trip.”
“Ah? I wasn't expecting someone like Blade to miss me or to be so clingy.” you mumbled. silver wolf snickered, “He kept your cat look-a-like in his room. The trailblazer says it's Ruan Mei’s creation.”
“Is that so…?” you sweatdropped. not like you didn't notice, you spotted that creation staring at you in the corner. it's cute, but it's giving you the creeps. blade glared at the women, “Do you two want a blade in your neck?”
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╰┈➤ DR. RATIO
“It was a two week business trip and I have returned just like I texted.” you said.
“Hmph! You said you'll return in 15 minutes, but you arrived in exactly 18 minutes and 35 seconds. You're late. This is unacceptable.” ratio glared at you. you sighed, “I only stopped by somewhere to get some snacks. I haven't eaten when I arrive.”
“You're a moron. How did I even partner up with an idiot like you…?” the male rubbed his temper.
“You suggest that we should be partners…” you deadpanned.
“Still. I only partnered up with you so you wouldn't do anything stupid. I had to keep you on track. Don't take it personally.” ratio huffed.
“Whatever. I'm heading out.” you waved as you about to walk out, but dr. ratio stopped you by grabbing you by your wrist, “Wait! Where are you going?”
“Somewhere.”
“I'll go with you. Wouldn't let a moron like you do anything stupid.” dr ratio suggested.
you sighed, “...Are you saying that you wouldn't want me to leave because you think I might go away forever?”
ratio flinched, “W-what give you those ideas?! I'm only doing my job!”
“You're such a liar…You're becoming clingy now?” you snickered. ratio growl with a red face, “Shut it! I'm not!”
“Oh-ho~ You never wanted to go anywhere with me before. Why now?” you teased. ratio hit you on the head with his book, “S-silence! An idiot like you doesn't know that!”
“Just say that you miss me~”
“Should I smash you harder with my book in your fucking head?”
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╰┈➤ AVENTURINE
“Me? Clingy? It was a two week business trip. Nothing more…” aventurine chuckled, brushing off your words. you hummed, “Mm-hm. Then…why are you so close? You don't usually get in my personal space.”
“Hm?” aventurine hummed in question. yes, he was close to your liking. he must've sneaked into your room and slept next to you in your bed and now he has his arms wrapped around your waist.
“You sneak in, didn't you?” you deadpanned. the blonde snicker, nuzzling his face in your neck, “What gives you that idea…?”
“You're being clingy without saying that you are. Just admit it.” you sighed.
“Just admit that you miss me.”
“Shhh. Let's go back to sleep.” aventurine beamed, trying to go to sleep. gosh, you can't understand this guy…
╰┈➤ author note: please note that this is a slow update. i will still accept your request, but it will take a while since i'll be working on my books on wattpad. if you wish to read those books, here's my wattpad account.
rules
hsr masterlist
480 notes · View notes
deadsetobsessions · 1 month
Text
Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.
My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.
Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.
——
Ra’s al Ghul.
Talia al Ghul.
Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.
On a bad day?
Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.
Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.
She was not a baby.
She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.
Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.
“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)
“My apologies, father.”
“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”
Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”
“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”
“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.
On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.
“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”
The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.
“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.
Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.
——
She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.
But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.
Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.
She was still young. A child.
“No.”
“No?”
“He did no wrong.”
“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”
The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.
She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?
“No.”
They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.
——
The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.
Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.
She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.
She learned a valuable lesson that day.
There were things worse than death.
“This is an order, granddaughter.”
The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.
“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”
The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.
——
Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.
She was right to be afraid for herself.
Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.
But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.
The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.
Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.
——
She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.
His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.
But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.
The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.
“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”
She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.
“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.
But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.
——
“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.
She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.
“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”
When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.
She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)
David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.
“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.
The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.
David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.
——
The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.
She did not understand.
-
The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.
The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.
-
The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.
The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?
The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.
The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.
The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.
The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.
-
The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.
The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.
And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.
The girl had given the weapon her own sound.
“Cass—n- ra.”
“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.
“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.
-
The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.
Cassandra did not want to.
When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.
The girl came.
“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.
The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.
-
Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.
Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.
“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”
——
Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.
And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?
So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.
Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.
She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.
Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.
David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.
She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.
——
She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.
Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-
Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.
She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.
She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.
She wished…
As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.
She hated him.
She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.
“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.
She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-
“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”
She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.
“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.
She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”
They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.
She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.
She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.
She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.
——
Tim had never had a friend before!
She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)
“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”
His new friend nodded, looking interested.
“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!
She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!
——
When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.
“Do you have to go?”
She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)
“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.
“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.
——
“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.
The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.
“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”
Damian al Ghul cooed.
The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.
She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.
She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.
Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.
She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.
A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.
——
She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)
The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.
Perhaps… she could use the pits?
Her mind turned and turned.
——
“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.
“Ukhti?”
She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”
She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.
It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.
Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.
She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.
She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.
——
Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.
She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.
He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!
——
Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.
Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.
——
Another mission.
She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.
She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.
He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.
She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.
“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”
She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.
She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.
He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.
She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.
——
Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.
He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.
“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.
He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.
——
She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.
Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.
Then, someone new joins.
Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.
Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.
Her memories roar. A child.
He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.
She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.
She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.
Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.
But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.
——
“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”
“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.
She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)
——
“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”
“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.
He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)
——
“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”
She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.
——
She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.
“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.
“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.
The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.
The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.
‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’
Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.
“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”
She smiled, and patted his head.
“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”
Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”
She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.
(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)
——
She found it.
The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”
——
Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.
The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.
She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)
The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.
When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.
“What…?”
“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.
“It’s you!”
“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”
——
“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.
“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”
Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”
——
Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.
“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-
Shhhlk!
He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.
“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.
‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’
Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.
“Who are you.”
“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.
‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.
‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.
“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”
Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.
“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.
“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.
The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’
“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.
“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”
His sister glanced back and ignored them.
“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)
He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.
——
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catboygretzky · 2 months
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Exyblr Dashboard Simulator based on what I personally see on sportsblr:
1/?
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👑 girlbossriko follow
how many bro jobs do you think it took before riko moriyama and kevin day realized that uh.....maybe this wasn't just a bro thing
👢exyinaphonebooth follow
how many times do they have to come out and say they're like brothers before you freakos stop shipping them
👑 girlbossriko follow
????? do i know u
#it's a tumblr post about two exy players that you'lll never meet in your life it really isn't that deep
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💃fox-me-up follow
ngl that newest fox is kinda 👀
#psu lb #exy lb
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👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 talk-exy-to-me
The NARRATIVE that kevin day and neil josten have........son of exy! scouting the rookie-est of rookies from fuck knows arizona........no listen you dont GET IT winning is EVERYTHING TO KEVIN and he would risk it on the foxes? And NEIL? who has only played exy for a year! NEIL Gets his attention!!!!! And hes good and he's getting better every game and he keeps bitching about kevin's ex on live tv BUT WAIT!???? NOT QUITE WHAT YOU EXPECT! Bc then neil shows up with a number on his cheek BECAUSE WELL it turns out they've known each other since they were KIDS! how is everyone not insane w me THEY'RE LITERALLY PERFECT
#where r my fellow njkd truthers #how r u all not here with me this isnt even the start #kevneil #210 #psu #njkd
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☀️ usctrojanny
every smiley blonde striker (jeremy knox) needs a brunette wet cat emotional support backliner (jean moreau)
#jerejean #usc trojans #i'm just saying 🤷‍♀️
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👸🏻 kevindazed follow
did he just......
👸🏻 kevindazed follow
guys please tell me i'm not insane
👸🏻 kevindazed follow
HE'S NEVER BEEN????? SKIIING???? KEVIN WHAT DOES THAT MEAN ?????? KEVIN PLEASE
#i i'm going insane i will literally die if someone doesn't explain this to me HE'S NEVER BEEN SKIING?!!!!
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🧚 goalie-stan
oh....i'm feeling so weak......it'd sure be nice to have a big strong goalie (renee walker) hold me up (renee if you're free on tuesday i am also free on tuesday.........on tuesday this tuesday, any tuesday?)
#literally passing out just thinking about her holding me don't call don't text i'm busy
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🌄 softkevinday follow
do u think if u offered kevin day essential oils to heal his hand he'd beat you to death
#it'd be hard for him bc he only has one hand but he could probably do it #legally this is a joke don't do this
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🗣️ jeremyknoxes follow
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feeling normal
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📜 realexyblog
actually exy rpf is fine, i asked kayleigh day herself and she told me it was fine
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🐋 sexyexy
'exy is a stupid name for a sport' have you considered that a) i don't care and b) it's named that solely so i can make sex jokes about it
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🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow
is he, ya know *mimes jerking off* an ncaa exy player
#i don't believe that straight exy players exist
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🙈 ittybittyminny follow
Andrew Minyard!!!!!!! 🥰🥰 short king!!!!🤏🤏😋😋 Awwwwwwww the scrunkly!!!!! 🤗🤗🤗 My boinky boy!!!!!🥺🥺 Crinkly doo,,,,shronkle scrimblo......🥺🥺🥺 rb if you'd scrunkle!!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
📖 sapphic-exy follow
he literally killed someone
🙈 ittybittyminny follow
And? God forbid women do anything
#also no proof he did that #yeah there's proof his twin bro killed someone but that's not the same bc theyre different people #almost killing someone doesnt count
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🐦‍⬛ edgarallenexy
got told i'm problematic for liking the ravens? THAT'S LITERALLY MY SCHOOL OH MY GOD
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🌸 softexy
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Kevin Day - A Study
#kevin day #psu foxes #palmetto foxes #exy #web weave #poetry #psu foxes #palmetto #edgar allen
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pynkgothicka · 1 year
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Beast Miguel o'Hara
Synopsis - After you sister leaves you to hang with your boss, both his and your lives becoming a waking nightmare
Pairing - Yandere! Miguel o’Hara x Fem! Reader
Featuring - Jessica Drew but the black version cause I luv black women
Tags and Warnings - Stalking, Kidnapping, Violence towards reader
Authors Note - I LUV HIM SM MY GOD. I HADDD TO WRITE SOMETHING. Also I believe this contains slight spoilers??? I think???
A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!
“Jess! Are you sure it's okay that I'm here? I'm not really spider-like.” You followed behind your sister, her afro swinging as she walked. You fiddled with the band she gave you in order to keep you from glitching out.
It was all so casual, and almost everyone greeted her. The architecture was other worldy, almost only to benefit the inhabitants. Speaking of, there was many, too many to count. 2D, 3D, Male, Female, Pigs, Horses, Cats, almost anything imaginable.
While you looked at it all in amazement, they all looked at you, and gave you dirty and worried looks. At least thats what it looked like under their masks.
“Oh Miguel won't like this…”
“I didn't know they allowed just anyone up here?”
“I mean Peter B brings his daughter so I guess it's a pass."
“I just know Miguel doesn't like anything new. He might bare his fangs or something. You know that guy and sacre tactics.”
You shuddered at the way they spoke of this Miguel guy. But you kept following behind Jessica until she came to a huge hatch, in which opened up on her walking up.
“Miguel!”
“What do you need Jessica, aren't you supposed to be on a mission?”
“I do, but I need you to do a favor!” Jessica yelled, shoving your shoulder to push you ahead. “My sister is visiting from college in my dimension. I need someone to watch over her and I trust you'll do that without letting her get hurt.”
You finally looked up seeing a sharp jawed man looking down at you. His spider suit glew a dark blue with bright red highlights. His brown hair was pushed back, framing his face perfectly. Not only that, but he was huge, built like a giant.
He came down from his workspace, now closer to you than ever. His chest was too your face and you had to look up too look at him. He seemingly almost over analyzed you, eyes trialing up and down your form. “Fine. Just go handle the situation.”
Jessica raised a brow and crossed her arms. “Fine? Just fine? You usually aren't just okay with this type of stuff. You sur-”
“Your questioning my decisions?” Miguel said his stature becoming stiff, seemingly fed up with her constant questioning.
“No… just wondering. Don't have too much fun you two.” Jessica said giving you a small hug before walking off. As the hatch door closed, Miguel's hand went to your back, ushering you to walk with him.
“I'll give you a chair so you can stay within my sight. I don't want to lose you.” You nodded, watching as he turned away from you, going back to his work. A chair was pushed your direction, and when you finally got to sitting down the cushioned seat almost swallowed you whole. You could take a nap if you wanted too, it was just that comfortable. And you almost did, until you were pulled from your rest with a deep voice.
“Did she tell you, or did you piece it together?”
“Huh?"
“Jessica. Did you just figure out she was Spider-Woman?”
Miguel's hands just kept working, his focus divided between talking to you and his work. “To be honest, I just figured it out. When I asked her if what I thought was true, she just seemed relieved and told me everything.”
Miguel seemed surprised at this making a strange humming noise. “You two must be very close huh?”
“Yeah. I wouldn't trade the world for the bond me and her share. I'm glad she trusted me enough to tell me about that side of her life. From what she told me, Spiderman doesn't usually tell people about what he does. It's refreshing you know… I'm sorry am I rambling too much?”
“No. Your fine, I'm actually enjoying the company. I'm in here by myself most of the time. It's nice to hear another voice.” You gave him a small smile in which he returned, smirking at you. He stopped working and his screens switched off. “What do you do for fun?”
“Me? Fun? Uhh I don't know. I'm a college student with just about 0 connections. I guess reading?” You finally chased for a reply.
“LYLA get someone to bring me a book from the library. Hell bring two.” Miguel said, finally an AI woman popping up. She teased him a bit before finally having someone bring you two books. Miguel then sat down next too you beginning to open one of the books he brought.
“Your willing to read with me?”
“Yeah. I need to get my mind off of things anyway.”
🩸
Once Jessica had picked you up, Miguel felt weird. He knew you were attractive. Like very attractive. But that wasn't normal for him. He usually didn't see attraction in people.
Something else he also knew was that when he was around you he felt comfortable. He had no worries and you took them all away. It was a feeling he could only recall when he was with his “daughter.” He'd let you snuggle up close too him, physical touch being something he hadn't felt in a while.
“LYLA. I need you to pull any information on Jessica Drew's sister. It can be from any dimension, I just need to know everything.” Miguel basically ordered the ai. She popped up in front of him, with that same smug look she always gave when questioning his any of his decisions.
“Why would you need that?! It's not like she's ever going to get bitten by a radioactive spider.” LYLA said bringing up a huge collection of information she'd found on you in a heartbeat. “But hey I'll indulge this. Let's see, she's almost always college student, future looks like a journalist, ooh she's judgemental! And just about always single. Seems like her connection to Jessica Drew is always the sisterly role.”
Miguel fell more and more in love the more LYLA talked. “Send all that too my computer.”
“Gotcha! Hopefully this will help you.” LYLA said dissipating away. Miguel stared at the picture of you on one of the screens.
He had to have you. At any means necessary.
🩸
You'd finally saved up for a apartment to where you could stay without the need for dorm mates.
Being a journalism major meant you needed all the focus you could get. And you couldn't find that when around all those people. So you left.
Usually you wrote uplifting pieces for your sister as her and the press don't usually get along well. Even though your pretty sure she knows you wrote majority of her good stories, you also know she'd smile seeing that people appreciated her work.
As you were turned around and began slicing open a box to unpack in your room, a voice boomed from your window. “Hi sweetheart.” From across your room stood a towering Miguel o’Hara. He crawled his way into your room, shutting the window behind him.
“Umm hi Miguel. Are you looking for Jess? She's not here i-” Miguel cut you off.
“I'm not looking for her. I was actually looking for you. I came to talk to you about something.” Miguel started moving closer, slowly stepping towards you. He ducked past your light fixture, finally truly Intimidating you. Something about the way he was coming towards you frightened you. His size almost made it worse.
“Oh. Well of course. You can talk to me about anything.” You trailed off putting your knife to the side, giving Miguel your undivided attention
“I want you to come live with me. At the headquarters. No one has to know. Not even your sister.” He said causally. He was right on you, making you trip and buckle to fall on your bed. You looked up at him, pushing yourself further into the bed.
“That's, crazy Miguel. I can't that, I'm a college student! I don't even know you enough for that!”
"But I know you. I've studied you. Every possibility of you. I know more about you than you know yourself!" You let out a small gasp. This man had been essentially stalking you.
"Miguel. That makes it even worse, the last answer is no. And.... And I need you to go."
“You just don't get it do you?” Miguel's hand hit the wall, claws digging and dragging in the drywall. “I don't think you understand I'm not asking you to do anything. This is me telling you.”
And with that you kicked against him, trying to immobile him at any means possible. You had to find Jessica.
But he grabbed your wrist, trying to drag you to your window. He hoisted you up to his shoulder like you weighed nothing.
“Let go! Let go of me, Jess! Jess please!!” You began to scream out for your sister seeing if maybe, just maybe she was around to help you.
But she wasn't.
No one was.
You started to beat on Miguel's back. He was now out of your window and climbing up the side of your apartment, heading to the roof. “You better stop fighting, this is destiny. Our destiny.” When he finally made it to the roof he put you down and a hexagonal portal appeared as he messed around with his arm band. You began to heave on impact with the hot concrete. Miguel then turned back towards you, watching in amusement as you dragged yourself slowly to get away from him.
“What are you doing?!” Miguel's head snapped as he stared at LYLA who now stood in front of him at full height. “Your pulling the exact same thing you tried before this, before you made the society! Made me!”
"You don't understand. You will never understand."
"I understand more than you will ever know. You need to stop. And you need to stop now!"
You took this as a opening to crawl your way to the nearest side of the building. You could hear Miguel snarl and yell at Layla. But you tried to pay no mind to that as you looked down over the right edge of the building. You saw a metal of the top apartments stairway.
Fuck this would hurt.
Your body hit the metal with a loud bang, the adrenaline wore off as you finally felt all the bruises and gashes you gotten. “Fuck, my god. Jess… Spider-Woman! Plea-” You felt a hand on the back of your neck. Claws dug in to the front, slightly nicking at your neck.
“Where are you going?”
Miguel picked up your body like you weighed nothing. He then carried and slammed you against the nearby wall. When trying to move your hand to tap on the glass pane, Miguel's other hand grabbed at your wrist, immobilizing you. “Miguel please don't do this! Jessica, she's going to look for me I know it jus-”
“Shh My Love… this won't hurt a bit.” Miguel barred his fangs at you opening wide and moving to your neck. And before you could protest he bit deep into it, venom seeping into your veins. You felt woozy, and realized you couldn't move an inch. Just how he wanted you.
“It's all going to be okay Mi Vida. I know exactly what you need... A family. And not just any family. A family with me."
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primrosebow · 2 months
Note
Do you draw or write for the girls? Because I would love seeing any type of Lute, Charlie or Vaggie art in your style
Also I would eat your art 20/10
Short answer: yahhh xoxo💞
Long answer:
_-->Various hazbin hotel women x reader // art
//
!Content warnings!:the usual nsfw, this has the gals listed in the ask🫡 a few headcannons added for flavor, gn reader cause I never specified literally anything, more words than usual.
We are SO BACK 💪💪💪 request things ‼️ My activities would get me perma banned from the vatican, I'm afraid.
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Charlie //
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I, unlike most other people here, believe that charlie most often tries to take the role of a dom! She's used to trying to fix everyone else's problems, but, she'll crumble if she ever gets treated like the perfect princess that she is. Call her beautiful, praise her, give her that affection she desperately needs. She's been helping her citizens for so long, she deserves to get taken care of!
Honestly, when you slowly push that vibrator inside her after what felt like an agonizing ammount of time for prepping, she was ready to cry on the spot. She can barely believe you even talked her into being in the receiving end of this -she's the one supposed to be pleasing you!- Getting this much attention and love made her brain go all fuzzy and tears well up in her eyes as her limbs felt weak; she was trembling far too much from the overwhelming pleasure she felt right then to truly care about what this whole situation did to her ego.
She doesn't realize her horns have made an appearence as she pleads with you: come on! You were giving her so much attention just a minute ago! Please! Being as close to you as possible is her only wish right now. Her pitiful tone and cries for you directly contradict how her tail is shaking at it's tip, much like that of an excited cat -she's enjoying this far more than she expected-.
If you do decide to give in and finally rub on her already overstimulated clit just as you had been doing before, she'll cling onto you for dear life- practically sobbing as you give her precisely what she needs. Maybe she can get used to being treated nicely by you. (She learns that she cannot get enough of the overwhelming passionate act of letting you be in control, it's far too good for her to only experience it once.
She'll soon get a little cocky though... she isn't the daughter of the king of pride just because of her name, if you catch what I'm throwing)
// //
Vaggie //
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Vaggie has placed quite a notorious quantity of expectations on herself. She's always been this way, and, continues to be despite your affirmations of her worth. Your constant and relentless words of praise to her: how beautiful she is, how strong, how perfect, how brave, how hot- it all got to her head very quickly. Your words contradicted her thoughts on herself but the way you kiss along her neck makes any thought melt away from her brain and be replaced with pure emotion.
// //
"Mh.. please, darling- I-" she tried to form a sentence, eventually getting cut off by her own moans. Her nightgown was pushed up as she laid with her back against your bed, squirming slightly as she feels your fingers rub against her insides. She clenches around you as you drag your thumb over her swolen clit, which was begging for your attention since the very start of this. Her hips stutter as she can't pick between indulging the stimulation and running away from the pleasure.
Her eyes struggle to keep themselves open, but you had told her to look at you during this. She couldn't let you down. Not when you were saying she was "doing so good f'me". Those are some of the few words that can pierce through the thick veil of the ecstasy-like feeling of your attention and carve themselves into her very soul. She was good. Good for you. She couldn't ask for anything better, and, won't- can't be letting you down.
You.. leave her easy tasks such as looking at you and being a little quieter just so she feels like she's still, in some way, being useful to you. Slow and steady wins the race, and, soon enough you hope to remove the constant anxiety of servicing you from the act of love you want to give her.
Lute //
Lute is quite interesting because she has this weird duality between wanting approval and not being able to take said approval. Sometimes, she'll activelly attempt to rile you up enough that you'll punish her (something you have already told her is not necessary, since you can be harsher on her if she simply asks) but please don't blame her! She's just used to being treated roughly, it's "safer" for her to stay in her comfort zone of thorns and cruel words at first.
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But only at first. Like I said, she really does want to feel loved. One of the first times you attempted to give her the affection she craves, after having learned that she can't deal with the purely lovey, sappy affection yet, you had to get resourceful with bringing her the love she needs.
"Awh sweetheart, you can't handle this?" You dig your fingers even deeper into her, a squelching noise arises from the action because of just how wet she already is. She groans at your words, and, if you didn't know any better, she'd have sounded like any other cheap sinner from lust with how aroused she was at your teasing. But you do know better. Your comment- it was slightly mocking, it was maddening; it was a challenge. For her to keep her composure for as long as she can. Lute grabs onto you even harder so she can regain some sense of stability, finally locking eyes with you. She moves her hips slightly against your fingers. Despite it being her own action, she groans. She says in a shaky tone
"Do your worst."
Ah, you can't deny such a request, now, can you?
// //
BONUSSSSSSSSS‼️
Velvette //
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"Agh- fuck you! H-ah-" she tried to act mad, don't get her wrong. She really did. But that's astoundingly hard to do when your lover has their hand in your panties and is currently relentlessly and harshly rubbing against your clit like it was the last thing they'll ever touch.
You really could not have picked a worse time to do this; right before one of her new collection showcases? Did you want her to die? You forcefully push her thighs apart when she pressed them toguether, not letting her even attempt to get back a semblance of composure. As if that wasn't enough, you had locked her bracelets toguether behind her back, and, even if she wouldn't admit it to a single soul, it really turned her on.
She tried to think as hard as she could, try to offend you, try to play her own pleasure down, but she really couldn't. Empty remarks about your incompetence or appearence or literally anything she could get her mind around slowly melted away into moans and whines, the much too familiar shame from getting overwhelmed so easily by you also pushed aside by a desperate search for her own release.
When she finally did cum, she doesn't hold back on how loud her moan of your name was, her thighs trembled as she leaned on your body for support. She intentionally turns her head away from the mirror so she won't be faced by her own overstimulated self, and much less your self-satisfied grin as you watch her panting against you.
Oh gods... what was she doing again? Hmm.. OH YOU BASTARD YOU RUINED HER PANTIES! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW EXPENSIVE THAT FABRIC WAS? FUCK YOU.
Let's just hope that the fashion gossip blogs don't catch onto how uncharacteristically out of breath she was during that showcase!
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I love piracy so much RAHHHHHH‼️‼️ if buying ain't ownin, piracy ain't stealin, but I wish it were. IMAGINE‼️ you download idk ratatouille and they just don't have it anymore. "Guys they took ratatouille again..." I wish. I wish watching media through torrent sites was like taking various items from ikea.
I WOULD download a car.
@bigfatbimbo cause of the little bonus of velvette
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k-hotchoisan · 7 months
Note
hii it’s me again with another request (sorry)
Could you write smtg based off the song agora hills by doja cat? whatever member u prefer is fine 💕💕
anywayssss i love you smmm and u are an amazing person!! 💕💕🤭🧎‍♀️
omg that is such a cute song (if you squint hard enough past the public sex HAHAHAH)
Please never apologise for coming back for a request, you know I’ll always welcome you with open arms 🥰
Always thank you for being so sweet vic (if it’s okay to call you that~) and for giving me inspiration + pushing me write out of my boundaries. I genuinely appreciate it.
AND I LOVE YOU TOO 🗣️🩷😭
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Where you and Seonghwa have a fight before his Grand Prix finals, but he still wins, and loses his fucking mind when he sees you still cheering for him despite that.
Genre/Warnings: racer au, smut, semi public sex, you fuck Seonghwa in his racer gear, IF YOU SQUINT HARD ENOUGH THERES LIKE ANGST (it isn’t heavy don’t worry), creampies, mild dacryphilla, unprotected sex, sweaty sex
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You storm past your partner into the hotel room, trying to let the anger dissipate. Seonghwa is trying to get to you, explaining what you saw. You know that it couldn’t be helped, but feel the thorns prickling your heart when you couldn’t even approach him when you caught one of his overly zealous and nepotistic fans with her hands over him during the after party. Nothing much could done because;
a. He couldn’t do anything about it because the relationship between the both of you had to be kept a secret, his management did not like the thought of entertaining Seonghwa in a relationship when his career is at his peak;
b. The Grand Prix finale was tomorrow. A lot of stakes were in place, and Seonghwa knew better than to fuck it up, especially when he’s worked so hard to get where he is now. He’s so close.
He’s also so fucking close to just wanting to let the world know how possessive he is over you.
“You know it’s not like that right?” and he goes on and on. You know that it’s part of his job—to network, get more sponsors, even if it meant letting other women get a little too close to him. You understand, you do, but oh god, it gets so fucking exhausting. You just wanted time for yourself to clear your head and process the whole thing, and potentially stabbing that nepo baby at least sixty times in your head.
Your arms are crossed. Arguing with him is the last thing you want to do right now, especially when the both of you barely escaped getting caught sneaking into his hotel room. All that for a fight to erupt between the both of you after a long and tense day on the track. You glare at him with a pout.
“I’m going home.”
Seonghwa whips his head so fucking fast, his eyes piercing right into you. He looks absolutely dumbfounded.
“Are you serious?”
You nod. “I’m sorry that I overreacted, but now, I’m not risking us getting caught when tomorrow’s the finals.”
Seonghwa wants to fucking pounce and cage you in. Before he even attempts to deflect your words, you cut him off-
“-and especially when you’re not the one dating someone who needs to keep a relationship a secret.” You sigh. “Please get some rest, Hwa.”
You pull the hotel door open, and leave promptly. Seonghwa stands there, his brows furrowed as frustration bleeds into him. He wants to so badly chase after you, but he knows you wouldn’t let him, not when there could be a chance to risk getting caught by anyone from his team.
As the cab pulls away further from the hotel, your phone is spammed by Seonghwa, and he’s explaining himself. You purse your lips, reading over his texts, but you only decide to reply a curt reiteration of what you told him earlier at his hotel room, and a “love you”, before unlocking your door to finally wash up.
A ping of guilt courses through you—you know you shouldn’t misunderstand or be jealous, but if anything, it was but how it made you feel, and it wasn’t pretty. You didn’t mean to show a perturbed expression when his eyes glanced at you after he barely managed to shake his little fan girl off him, but it was just automatic. And if anything, Seonghwa is just as possessive as you are, if not worse, especially when he sent death glares to your direction when another male had approached you, and periodically touched you up on your arms, which kind of caused the argument to even start in the first place.
Your eyes flutter close, exhausted, as sleep drags you in deeper, the last thing in your mind being Seonghwa.
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The morning sun leaks through the windows of Seonghwa’s room. He’s already up, albeit half awake, getting ready for another whole day of racing. His mind was set on going all out for the finals, but something still remains at the back of his mind, and he doesn’t want to push it away. He thinks to himself, he wants to do it for you.
You only send Seonghwa a short text of encouragement, and he doesn’t reply. Then again, he is wrapped up with interviews over interviews, training and the finale would only start when dusk sets. You don a body con dress, paired with one of Seonghwa’s racer jackets you stole, might as well surprise him a little bit.
On the cab to the event, Seonghwa’s gorgeous face is plastered all over the Grand Prix news, as one of the rising stars. He looks absolutely stunning, no doubt, and it gets your heart racing too because you cannot believe he’s yours.
You take a seat amongst the noisy crowd around you. The atmosphere was getting really riled up, especially when the racers all appear on the big screen as they walk back stage to their cars. Your eyes are glued to the screen as Seonghwa appears in his racing gear, and he winks at the camera, a slew of fangirl screams burst around you, and you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle. All the hard feelings the night before faded off, and you heart felt full yet anxious for Seonghwa.
It takes awhile for the warm up and safety check to be cleared, but before you knew it, the checkered flags are raised and lights turned green, cheers roar across the tracks as the loud screeches of the cars overpower them.
Throughout the laps, Seonghwa falls in between 3rd and 4th place, you bite your lip, praying that he’s able to catch up. As the laps close in to its final rounds, Seonghwa slowly climbs up the position to first, and he maintains, amazingly. The night continues to burn with anticipation as the final lap commences, with Seonghwa neck to neck with another racer, switching between first and second.
The final corner becomes the make or break—as Seonghwa drifts, effectively overtaking just slightly before fully taking the spot for first.
And he speeds into the finishing line, winning championship.
You jump from your seat, your fingers clasped from the tension as the announcer is proclaiming Seonghwa’s win, and the screen flashes his winning race in slow motion. Your heart is pounding in your ears as the screams are blocked out. You are so proud that nothing leaves your lips as you fight the tears from falling as you clap. The screen flickers to the car cam, and you see Seonghwa pumping his fist in victory as he rides through another victory lap.
The barricade has fans screaming Seonghwa’s name as he leaves the car and pulls his helmet off. He looks so fucking amazing even when he’s sweaty, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. You decide not to squeeze with the fans near the barricade, opting to stand further away.
Well, now where does this relationship go? He’ll probably be even further from you now.
A huge group of reporters swarm him, and he looks overwhelmed, that is until his eyes scan the crowd and lands on you, just when you’re ready to turn to leave.
Seonghwa’s heart skips a beat, his eyes are only tunnelling you as he pushes past the crowd, jumping past the barricade to where you are. You have a small smile on your face because you know he deserves all of this.
A tight grip on your hand halts you in your tracks, shocking you, as you turn around with wide and confused eyes. He pulls his goggles off. Before you could even process it, Seonghwa has his jacket that you’re wearing in his fist as his hands travel up cup your jaw—and he pulls you in for a deep kiss.
Your eyes shut as the kiss scatters fireworks beneath your eyelids, with Seonghwa’s lips right pressing against yours. Your mind is fuzzy, as your ears blocks out the loud screams of his fans. He pulls back after what feels like an eternity, before bowing politely at the group of fans and reporters in front of him as he leads you away.
From the circuit track to his hotel room, he never once let go of your hand, probably only gripping it tighter the closer he got to his room. He doesn’t say a damn thing either, probably because he still has the adrenaline pumping in his veins. Nonetheless, you still can’t tell what he’s thinking, and you’re wondering if he’s still upset.
At least not until the moment the door closes behind you.
Because he turns his heels right at you as devours your lips, not letting go at all, even as peels off his jacket, then yours.
He finally pulls back, giving you a breather. His eyes look absolutely wild as he tugs his jacket off you, exposing the way your dress hugs your curves, and his breathing becomes heavier.
“Fuckin hell. You don’t know how much it drives me insane when you’re wearing my jacket over something fuckin slutty like this. Fuck,” he groans, kicking his shoes off. You stare at him breathlessly as you remove your shoes as well, but your gaze never leaving how Seonghwa looks so fucking good with a compression shirt on—the way it hugs his biceps, the way it pulls taut against his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous bounce of his fucking tits every time he shifts his arms. He doesn’t remove his top before pulling you right back into his arms, his hands snaking up to grab your braless tits, which makes him groan again.
“Fuck, you’re not even wearing a bra. Are you fucking kidding me?” His erection presses hard against your thigh, and you’re working through your brain to find and answer amidst being trapped by pleasure. “And where did you think you were running to, looking like that?”
“N-nowhere! I thought you’d be caught up with the report-“ he cuts you off with another hungry kiss. God, he’s so desperate that you can’t help feel the heat pool between your legs. It doesn’t help that he had pulled your dress down past your chest, and his hands are all over your tits, sending sparks down your your spine, right to your pussy. Seonghwa pulls away once more, licking the string of spit that connected the both of you.
Seonghwa hums. “Mmm. Shouldn’t have asked. I’d still fuck you dumb anyway.” Your grip on his arm tightens. His fingers snake under your dress, tugging on your panties as he pulls the pair down, and pockets the pair of panties. The wet patch of slick doesn’t go unnoticed by him. His gaze locks onto yours as he makes sure you watch him cover his fingers with spit before his fingers head south. His fingers meet your slick that covered your cunt and scoffs.
“You’re already so fucking wet already”. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as his fingers begin rubbing your clit. You lean forward and sigh as you use his shoulder to lean your head on. He lets you for a moment, adoring the way you’re beginning to squirm underneath him. Then he’s grabbing your waist and then dumping you right on the couch, pushing your legs open for him. Your cunt glistens with slick right for him, and Seonghwa is more than ready to dive in, giving a lick before fully immersing his tongue right into your sex, flicking his tongue against your clit, his hands squeezing your thighs. Your fingers are tangled in his hair and your head is thrown back as you tug his slicked back hair. If you weren’t seeing stars, you’d be seeing the fucking heavens.
Seonghwa hits a pace where you’re beginning to see white spots beneath your eyelids and the knot tugs hard in your stomach. Your thighs contract immediately, but Seonghwa keeps them apart, because he knows that’s the sweet spot. He knows it makes you tingle and it gets him so fucking excited. His tongue works even quicker on your clit and your orgasm builds so fucking quick and your whines climb up in octave, music to Seonghwa’s ears.
“There, there. Oh fuck. I’m cumming. Oh my fucking god”, leaving your lips like a mantra, alongside more whines of his name as your orgasm tingles through your body in waves. His tongue presses against your clit and he sucks on your clit, causing you to jolt, tears already streaking from the overstimulation. Seonghwa’s moaning in your wet cunt, making sure he devours every part of your orgasm as his ego inflates. A broken cry leaves your lips as you release his locks, your hands slumping against the couch. Seonghwa presses a wet kiss against your cunt with a smile. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he towers over you, his erection staining his pants already. Oh god, you love the way your arousal is all over his plump lips nonetheless. He was made for eating you out. He leans in for another ravenous kiss—and he swears he can never get enough of it. Before you realise it, your dress is pulled back up past your tits.
His fingers gently intertwine with yours as he pulls you up, and leads you to-
“The balcony?” You question, your heart hammering in your chest. Seonghwa cracks a smile as he leans in.
“Yeah. I wanna show the world my girl. I’ll fuck you so good that I’ll make sure the world knows.”
“But-“
“It’ll be fine. I’m serious. We’re so high up and we’re clothed, well kind of ”, he comforts. You bite your lip, because fuck, it was definitely exhilarating to be fucked on the balcony. You wanted the world to know that he’s yours too and the thought of it only heats you up even more.
He leads you the beach chair at the side, where he makes you sit and hang your legs on either side of the arm rests, and he’s about to remove his compression top but your hands stop his before you realise it. He looks at you, concern flashes over his face for brief second.
“Fuck me with your racer gear on.”, you blurt out, curling your fingers against the taut fabric. Seonghwa’s expression immediately switches over to one of a smirk. “What have you been fantasising about, darling?” He pokes, looming over you with a cocky smile.
You can’t escape, the only thing that does is a small whimper. Seonghwa doesn’t push for an answer, because he’s busy yanking his pants down past his thighs, and his cock springs out, hitting his lower abdomen. He sighs as he gives his fat cock a couple of pumps while looking at you with your legs spread wide open for him, your pussy just salivating at the thought of him pounding into you into the next week.
He lines himself to your entrance and doesn’t warn you before he enters, and a squeal leaves your lips, then a soft cry as he pushes more inches into you—every inch going thicker and thicker as he goes down to the base, until he’s snug in your cunt.
“That’s my good girl. Warm and wet, just how I like it”, he whispers into your ears, as he strokes your thighs gently. More sobs leave you, your fingers pressing onto Seonghwa’s arms.
Just when you thought you couldn’t fit any more of Seonghwa, the sudden thought of him right now, fucking you in his uniform somehow swallowed more of his cock, earning you the most gorgeous moan from Seonghwa as his eyes roll back and his eyebrows scrunched.
“Baby-fuck!-just what are you thinking about? Squeezing me like this? Oh god”, his knuckles are whitening from his grip on the arm rest. He pulls out before starting a pace to fuck you with, and soon enough it’s only the sounds of skin slapping, both of your moans and the feeling of Seonghwa’s cock just pounding right into the perfect angle of your cunt that exists in this damn universe. You wouldn’t ask for more.
Your brain was becoming pulp, only soft sobs every time Seonghwa’s balls deep into you. You could only focus on how his biceps tensed against the fabric as his tits fucking bounced every time his slams his cock into you—which you definitely see it too—the way his pants hang just at his lower thighs, and his cock is just disappearing into your pussy, drawing out squelching sounds that were borderline obscene. Drops of sweat splatter onto your dress as he leans in to rest his forehead onto yours.
“So good. So fucking good to be inside you like this”, he curses, trying to not the feeling of his orgasm overpower him. As you were gradually losing yourself to the pleasure, he suddenly pulls back completely, and instructs you to face the night scenery with your ass out. He crumpled your dress to your waist, and his cock enters you again, causing you to draw a sharp breath. He doesn’t let you adjust—he just starts fucking you raw like that, leaving your mouth agape and eyes blown out from the pleasure.
He’s able to reach even deeper part of your pussy now, and he makes sure you fucking cry for him. “H-Hwa!”, you try to speak in between sobs. “Oh god, oh god. I can’t. It’s so deep.” Your hands barely have the strength to hold onto the rails as he is railing you from behind.
“That’s my pussy. Milk me dry baby”, Seonghwa grunts, his fucking becoming more erratic, admiring the way your ass bounces off his cock so naturally. “I’m cumming all the way in baby. Be a good girl and take it, yeah?”
And a drawn out moan fills your ears as his cum floods your abused hole, and you cry out as your second orgasm hits you, clenching his cock even more. A loud slap reverberates into the night as his hand lands on your ass, causing you to flinch and squeal.
“That’s it, baby. Oh, you’re such a good girl”, he hums, holding your hips as far as his cock would let him drive into you, letting cum dribble down your inner thighs. He pulls out slowly, admiring the way your cunt convulses, small loads of his cum and yours leak out of you. You release your grip from the railings and fall right into his arms, as he plants a loving kiss on your temple before whispering,
“I promise you’re the only one for me, baby.”
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