#or the trope of getting locked in the room and can only escape by having sex

[merakiui]

as much as i love the loser virgin trio, nothing can compare to ✨ him ✨

#meraki mumbles #my favorite loser virgin of all time <3 #i will be his emotional therapy hole orz please rollo just one chance #stuck in a wall trope with him!!!!!! #or the trope of getting locked in the room and can only escape by having sex #or even the trope of being trapped so closely in a tight space like a locker or a box……. #rollo is at the top of my hierarchy of needs OTL i love him too much #i need to write that messed up rollo fic uuuwwaaaawaa >_<

[ashfae]

The thing about romance is, it makes a good story.

As soon as Neil described season 2 as "quiet, gentle, romantic" I figured we'd be in for it, because as he's the first to point out, writers are liars. And the best way to deceive is with truth.

Season 2 is romantic. The trappings of romance are everywhere. Crowley tries to set up Nina and Maggie by trapping them under an awning during a rainstorm, a classic cinematic bonding technique. Aziraphale's chosen method comes from his beloved books: the ball, the dancing, appearing as a pair in public, hands held as you twirl gracefully with your heart thrilled and racing. If they can set up a sensational kiss that will unlock the happy ever after. They've lived on earth, they've studied the tropes, they know how romance works.

The problem is a story is only a story.

Nina and Maggie had the classic romantic setup completely by accident before Aziraphale and Crowley ever began trying to interfere with them. They get locked in Nina's coffeeshop. They can't escape or communicate with anyone else, they end up talking by candlelight because there's no electricity, Nina offers wine. Maggie mentions how she'd hoped for a chance to talk to Nina, and now here they are. It's every bit as much a standard as what Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to arrange. Blanket scenarios galore exist because of that starting point. We love that story. And there's nothing wrong with that.

But it's still only a story, it's not enough. Because once that moment of connection is over, however lovely it was, all the rest of the world comes flooding back in in the form of dozens of angry text messages. Nina's messy entrapping relationship hasn't magically gone away just because she and Maggie shared a romantic encounter.

And it's so tempting think oh well, that's easy. We'll just give them more romantic encounters and eventually those will overwhelm the rest of the baggage. Must do, because it'll make them fall in love, and once they realize they're in love that trumps all other considerations, right? So it'll be fine. Love Conquers All.

Neil also mentioned Pride and Prejudice.

Darcy knows he's in love early on and makes a disasterous proposal that shows that he has no understanding of Elizabeth's perspective, possibly hasn't even thought about it. They've been meeting in forest lanes for walks, conversing, had tete-a-tetes in the sitting room, danced at a ball. And while his turn of phrase isn't as flattering as he thinks, he's still offering her everything he thinks she wants and needs: affection, security, his good name, wealth, an escape from the embarrassments of her situation, the world. How can there be anything to object to? Why would anyone ever refuse so much of value?

Elizabeth quite rightly cuts him to pieces. He lashes back with a few hard truths of his own and they separate. During that separation, he thinks and he learns. He takes to heart the criticisms she offered, re-examines his assumptions, opens his eyes. Thinks about her perspective and how sometimes the only difference between pride and arrogance is where you're standing. He does the work. When they meet again he tries to demonstrate that he's learned--not in order to court her again (yet), but because the only real apology he can offer, the only one that would have weight, is to show that he's grown, he listened to her. He changed.

Elizabeth of course has her own journey, accepting that many of her own conclusions about Darcy were erroneous because they were formed without her having the full picture to hand, and once she's done that she has to apply it to her own situation as well. She loves her family, but they do place her at a disadvantage on a number of levels, leading eventually to full-out disaster as her younger sister carelessly ruins all of their reputations. It's hard to admit, it's mortifying, but Darcy was offering her a great deal she needs. His offer did have worth for all that she dismissed it as an insult. And as she learns to value his own character more highly, and then as she sees that he did listen to her even though she insulted him so thoroughly...well, she grows too. And when they do eventually come together it's not because of courting and balls. There's a big romantic gesture in his rescue of her sister but even that isn't why they'll get their happy ever after. It was just the catalyst for the conversation. They win because they've learned how to understand each other and how to communicate for the future. How they can strengthen and support each other, how to balance their strengths and weaknesses. The films leave them at the wedding, but the book shows a bit of their marriage too, and during it they keep learning from each other. Their relationship is held up as a superior love story for good reasons.

The end of season one was romantic too. Crowley stopped time rather than face a world where Aziraphale would never speak to him again, Aziraphale walked into hell to protect Crowley, they dined at the Ritz and toasted the world. But then they stopped. Sure they spent time together, talked, enjoyed each other's company. But if they were talking about important things would Crowley still be living in his car? They had a bit of respite but all that real world baggage that exists outside of the romantic moment hasn't been faced, none of it. Four or five years sounds like a long while but for beings who are quite literally older than the earth? That's just an intermission.

Nina's relationship ends, leaving her with a tangled mess; Maggie realises the sweet dream of love she's been longing for isn't as important as the real Nina. They talk. They plan. Nina will sort through her life, get closure, figure out what went wrong with Lindsay and what she wants from a relationship, learn how to ask for respect instead of just bending under her partner's demands. Maggie will support Nina the way Nina needs, which sometimes means helping her get oat milk for the shop and sometimes means giving her processing space. They're on the same page; they're going to do the work. That's why most likely they'll succeed. To quote one of my favourite fanfics: it's not happily ever after, but it's a chance. It's all going to be okay. (The Profane Comedy by Mussimm, who absolutely nailed this theme)

The romance is nice, it's lovely. We need it to keep ourselves going. To give ourselves the dreams that help us get through the days and nights. But it's not the relationship. It's not enough on its own. The wedding can be the grandest most beautiful ceremony ever with doves flying and sweeping music and bells ringing, but that doesn't guarantee the marriage will last.

Crowley and Aziraphale have had their romantic gestures, oodles of them. One wing raised to protect the other from falling stars, another from rain. Shared ground, shared interests, hands offered in friendship and held on a bus. They've tried to get to the same page, they really have. They just aren't there yet. The biggest most important things still haven't been talked about, and season 2 showed there are even more of those big important things than we'd realised.

The show paints Maggie as Aziraphale's foil and Nina as Crowley's, even to the point of Nina casually calling Maggie 'angel'. But Aziraphale's baggage is Nina's. The toxic relationship has to be processed and understood and closed, and it hasn't been, despite season one. Lindsay never really liked Nina very much, for all that they tried to keep her trapped; Heaven never really liked Aziraphale very much for all that he believed in it. They both let themselves be used. But Lindsay left Nina and went to their sister's, whereas now the head of Heaven has reached out to Aziraphale and said here, we can fix this, you can fix this, don't you want to fix this? Others are already writing about that and maybe I'll add to it later, not sure. And Crowley, like Maggie, has had a sweet dream that he has to set aside. Maybe he'll be able to pick it up again eventually, maybe not. But sometimes you offer support by buying oat milk or rescuing your beloved from the legions of hell, and sometimes you do it by standing back while they sort through their shit.

Quiet, gentle, romantic. It was.

But that's only part of the story. Now they have to do the work. They thought they had, but they were wrong, because there's so much they just hadn't touched yet and tried to cover over with relief and sleight of hand and alcohol and forgiveness. The apology dance doesn't mean much without showing that you listened and learned. They've faced so much trauma already and that should have been enough, we wanted it to be enough and so did they and it's such a blow for it to turn out that there's still more to do, that the baggage hasn't just gone away and can't be hidden under blankets or soothed with cocoa. The texts are still coming in and demanding answers.

But it'll be okay. It will. It's still a chance. And one that in the long run makes them better, builds something real that lasts.

The best stories, the ones that last longest and become classics, are the ones that don't end with the kiss under the awning or the blanket scenario or the wedding. They're the ones that heal us while the characters heal themselves. It's hard to accept that there's still more to do. Harder to imagine how it can possibly work out. And yes, bloody frustrating to wait and see.

And we'll get through that interim by telling even more stories. Because the story is never just a story. It's how we get through the work, it's what we tell ourselves so we can do the damn work. Stories are what we cling to and how we remind ourselves we're human and connect. A book is a person you can carry with you. We're not alone, none of us, stories connect us because we love them and see ourselves in them, which means we see each other.

Aziraphale's back up in Heaven to deal with his unfinished baggage; Crowley left his behind long ago and it's clearly going to come back and bite him in the arse however much he tries to go his own way. And they can't help each other with that. Not yet.

But they'll get there. So will we.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #nina #maggie #nina and maggie #stories #romance #relationships #am I projecting here #of course I am isn't that the whole point? #pride and prejudice #elizabeth and darcy #quiet gentle romantic #good omens meta

[forwntrx]

girls like girls (like boys do)

(reader x winter / reader x yunjin) smau series

you are the fifth member of aespa. one of the aces. loved by the public, the media, and even other idols. you were confident and assured in everything, except...your sexuality. you were so sure you were straight, just like a pin, until you met yunjin.

huh yunjin. a member of le sserafim. when she slips her number in your cookie at music bank, your whole life is thrown off balance. from that point on, she relentlessly tries to steal your heart, not knowing that winter was the one who set her eyes on it first. kim minjeong has loved you ever since she met you, but she was so sure that you could never see her that way. she lets go of her feelings and chooses to be your best friend instead. that is, until yunjin tries to make you hers. the three of you become locked in a triangle no one can escape. not without getting hurt that is.

- " i wanted her first. "

- " didn’t you ever hear second is the best, first is the worst? "

- " that’s not how that goes. "

STATUS - ongoing! not started yet but updates will come soon. my second smau so give me grace

TAGS - GAY GAY, 'unrequited' love (at first), fluff, pining, angsty a little bit i'm sorry, slow burn, slice of life, friends to enemies to friends to best friends to lovers (winter, most of this happens before but there will be flashbacks), strangers to lovers (yunjin), one bed trope hehe, fake dating, tipsy!yunjin, dorks in love, arguments, found family with aespa, !!! CHOOSE YOUR OWN ENDING !!!, think of it like a decision game where it branches out those two branches being either yunjin or winter

TAGS (PT2) - lesbian!winter, lesbian!yunjin, lesbian!reader, reader is clueless & indecisive, winter is bad with emotions and communication, she's trying her best, yunjin is the biggest flirt to ever exist, eventual winter and yunjin friendship (emphasis on the eventual), yunjin is annoying but in the best way possible, overthinker!yunjin, protective!winter, lots of fun guys

IDOLS FT. - yeonjun (txt), sunghoon (enha), jake (enha), aespa, le sserafim, yuqi (g-idle), tzuyu (twice) jihyo (twice), yeji (itzy), jeongin (skz), chaeryeong (itzy), other idol mentions most likely

CONTENT WARNING - sex jokes, alcohol, suggestive jokes, might have suggestive scenes nothing graphic and is sfw, too many pretty girls, swears, angst (sorry but only a little), very unserious sometimes, live a little, will update more later

TAGLIST - open! free! ready for whoever wants to be on it, just send me an ask

PROFILES ! — y/n's groupies | yunjin's haters | the idol club

I. FIRST ACT

music bank cookie

just me ()i-dle

canon event

room 312

exile

20 questions

oh okay

comfortable

so cute

on mine

is this your love affair?

i hate you

the jealous type

II. SECOND ACT

14. talk?

#yunjin #huh yunjin #winter #smau #kpop smau #winter x reader #yunjin x reader #aespa #aespa x fem reader #lesserafim x fem reader #lesserafim x reader #aespa x reader #txt #enha #lesserfim scenarios #aespa scenarios #karina x fem reader #gxg #aespa smau #kpop crack #aespa winter #kim minjeong x reader #smau series #aespa fanfic #lesserafim yunjin #kim chaewon #yoo karina #aespa imagines

[lovelettersforthedamned]

Imagine sucking frat peter off and him gripping your hair and calling you princess or baby and him stutteringgggg uuhuuuuuu

End Of Semester Stress (And Relief)

--genre + trope: SMUT!!! MINORS DNI 18+, NSFW, college!au.

--pairing: frat!tasm!peter parker x college!f!reader

--word count: 1.0k

--summary: stress has creeped up on peter. balancing the end of the semester and his frat has not given him a break. noticing his unease, you visit him at the delta chi house and give him some well deserved relief from this crazy time.

--warnings: SMUTTT, oral sex (m!receiving), a heated makeout, fluff, cum eating, reader has hair that can be put up in a ponytail, peter has a messy-ish boy room, slight hair pulling, language.

The end of the semester made Peter’s life a living hell, to say the least. Like any college student, finals have seemed to arrive sooner than expected. Not only his academic life but organizing end-of-semester events for Peter’s fraternity has consumed his entire life. He knew that the only way to forward was through, and that killed him. 

The Delta Chi house was quiet this time of day. Most of the guys were in class, or making their way back from their set of morning lectures. The sunlight of the early afternoon danced on the water spraying from the sprinklers dancing on the front lawn. As you make your way to the front door and ring the doorbell, the face of a semi-familiar face greets you with a grin. There were no words needed as he turned back towards the stairs and shouted, “Yo, Parker! Your girl’s here!” Opening the door wider, you step into the familiar foyer of the house. Looking towards the stairs, you see a disheveled version of your boyfriend descend. There’s a moment right before he recognizes it’s you where his face changes from a deep pout to a satisfied smirk. Peter wastes no time before he makes his way towards you and wraps you in a bone-crushing hug, “Hey bug, what’s up?”

“Nothing, I just missed you today,” you reply as he pulls away to grab your hand. 

Still holding your hand, he leads you up the stairs towards his room. Locking the door behind him, he takes a quick scan of his room like he hasn’t been in there all day. There were a few piles of paper located on his desk, some clothes on his floor, and his unzipped backpack lying on the floor near his door. “Sorry for the mess,” he starts sorting the paper on his desk into neater piles, “the end of the semester is killing me.”

You let Peter fix his desk before speaking, “It’s alright baby. It’s a lot, with finals and the frat, I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty crazy,” he groans as he runs his hands across his face.

“Let me take your mind off of things, yeah?” you suggest, walking over towards him. 

He finally sits down on the bed before he grabs the remote next to him, turning the TV on, “What kind of moving were you thinking-”. You cut him off with a deep kiss as you straddle his lap. His hands immediately make their way to your hips. You’re lost in his lips as you bring your hands weave their way through his thick brown hair. A smirk rises to your features as you pull away, a soft whine escaping Peter’s lips. 

“Shhh,” you whisper as you caress his cheek, “be patient.”

Slowly crawling off of his lap, you sit on your knees between his legs. The second you reach for his belt, he reaches down swiftly to take off his boxers and pants in one fluid motion. Now that he knows what you’re doing, he can’t stand to wait another second of you not touching him. 

Taking his still-soft cock in your hands, you bring the head up to your lips and lick his slit, rubbing the tip against your lips painfully slow. In your peripherals, you can see Peter’s head being thrown back as a lengthy sigh leaves him. His now, hard cock, aches to be touched. His head is now a pretty pink color. You admire his sluggish state for a second before pumping him a few times, still so very slow. 

Just when he’s about to open his mouth to interject, you take him entirely in your mouth. Taken back by your sudden eagerness, he speaks, “Oh fu-fuck, baby…” This time it was his turn to push his fingers through your hair, pulling the messy strands away from your face, and gathering them into a messy ponytail for him to hold onto. As one hand holds your hair in place, the other is slowly brought down to hold the side of your head, his thumb gently moving back and forth as you slightly gag on him. A silent encouragement. 

The only way you knew when Peter was close, was when he began to ramble. Mostly incoherent words are heard throughout the room, but sometimes a rare full sentence reaches your ears. “Oh my god, princess…I’m gonna,” he takes a sharp breath, “I’m gonna cum.” His words are so breathy as he’s right on the edge, that it makes your heart explode. 

His hips snap forward as he cums, and the warm feeling of his seed leaks down your throat. You notice a deliciously sharp feeling fluttering throughout the skin on your scalp, Peter is gripping your hair as he starts to come down from his high. As you carefully rise from his cock, the pull on your hair loosens until his hand falls onto his side. Pushing yourself off of your now aching knees, you crawl back on the bed on top of him, caging him in your arms. 

Leaning down to give him the gentlest peck on his lips, his honey-brown eyes fluttered open to meet yours. A satisfied smile creeps onto his face, “Where’d that come from baby?”

“You work so hard for others,” you push the hair off of his sweaty forehead, “ you deserve something sweet, especially after this crazy week.”

“Well…I definitely feel better, baby.”

Falling by his side, he reaches a hand over to pull your face closer to his and places a delicate kiss on your forehead. “Okay, now,” he mumbles into your skin, “what movie do you want to watch?”

For the rest of the day, you remain nestled into Peter’s side. The thoughts of finals and Greek life were placed somewhere far away in his mind. All of his thoughts are consumed by you. 

--author's note: GUYS...thank you for these asks!!! i love them so so much! frat!peter is my weakness right now holy shit, i need him so bad...ANYWAYS! don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging! my asks/inbox is open, so feel free to send anything!! im all ears for requests and if you just want to chat, im here for that as well!!! ok, ily bye<3.

#andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker #peter parker x reader #marvel #fluff #spiderman #tasm!peter x reader #college au #peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker #frat!peter

[devilfic]

omg we need more of the honeymoon shot bruce and reader,, maybe a one bed trope if it’s not too much to ask no pressure obv!!<3

❝honeymoon❞

II. marriage bed.

parts: previously / next plot: the in-laws are in town. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: arranged marriage, friends to enemies to (fake) lovers, implied history between reader and bruce, only one bed trope. words: 1.6k.

"I'm sorry" feels numb to say at this point. You still say it, standing at the foot of what should have been your marriage bed. It's been a long night and you'd wrung your hands of dish soap until your family practically barked at you to get to bed, to get back to your husband.

You can still hear them, cackling downstairs in the living room while your nieces and nephews tumble through the hallway. It must feel alien to have your childhood home, long devoid of familial joy, be suddenly bursting full of it. And have none of it mean anything to you.

Bruce stands shoulder to shoulder with you for a few more beats. Then he walks to the door, and you watch him twist the lock with a firm click. Your heart picks up a bit.

His steps are muted on the carpet and you take in his shoulders, the rolling hills of muscles in his back, and the pants that cling to the divots of his hip bones. The black cashmere is a gift from your mother, something preferable to his "ratty" sweats. He didn't like these very much.

Since you'd started living here, you caught glimpses of him like this. A heavy shadow of a man skulking in the darkness, waiting for you to leave for work before revealing himself. Rarely would you find yourselves crossing paths in the kitchen or catching eyes in the living room. And with each fleeting glance, he would escape elsewhere, receding into the tower the way a frightened cat might hide from strangers. Intruders. Funnily enough, you found avoiding eye contact helped that.

But now there was nowhere to run. Your family was here for the holidays and they were in every room. Eyes everywhere.

"Do you need to work tonight?" You'd started calling it that: "work". It made sense around the family (not so much your mother), and it didn't put him on edge when you skirted around the "B" word. "I can help you get downstairs."

He's half-turned to you, waiting on his side of the bed, so you can see the way his face scrunches up at a thought, "Gordon... told me to take time off. For family."

You snort, "You told him the in-laws were in town?"

"Yes."

You blink, "Oh."

Bruce had told you that between you and Alfred, no one else knew who Batman was. The lieutenant, trusted friend and ally as he were, had yet to join the ranks of your prestigious little club. It felt wrong to be in it when he wasn't; you'd forced yourself into it, and Bruce didn't even trust you.

You round the bed opposite to Bruce, and staring across it at him felt like staring across an ocean—he was so far away. You wondered how many people had shared this bed with him. How many he trusted as little as you.

You understand that the Bruce you remember was still a boy, grieving much differently than he is now, and had liked you just a little bit more.

You're the first to draw back the covers.

Bruce watches you settle in before following suit, reluctant, as if he were still wondering about the cons of sleeping in his car tonight. The weight of the bed dramatically shifts and you glide against the silk to his side when he lays down, your hand going for his upper arm to steady yourself. He jolts at the contact, staring you down like a deer in headlights.

Your second sorry of the night spills from your lips, and you squirm away from the warmth of his side and back to the edge of the bed.

You both lay like that for a while, side by side, neither of you particularly comfortable.

"Why didn't you say no?"

His question rocks the stillness in the air. You almost jolt. You turn your head and ask, as casually as you are able, "Say no to what?"

"The marriage."

Ah. "You've met my mother. It's hard to say no to her. Isn't that why you're in this situation in the first place?"

He remains looking up at the ceiling, but you see his jaw constrict, "The you I knew had a backbone."

He means it to hurt. Reminders of your youth together had not softened with time, it seemed, even if he treated you like a distant memory. You don't muster up the courage to bite back at him. Instead, you tuck your tail and keep the mist from gathering in your eyes, "...Yeah."

He doesn't seem to have expected that response. He finally turns his head to look at you, visibly confused. For a few moments, the two of you just stare at each other. Him, analyzing. You... mourning. "Is this what you wanted?"

It's becoming harder to hold back tears, "Not this. Not with her pulling all the strings. Regardless of what you think about me, or my mother, or my family, I didn't want any of this. I don't... want to be your enemy, Bruce."

You want so badly for him to believe you. You've never wanted anything more than for him to see you honestly, transparently, except perhaps to see him the same. To not have to fight.

He's about to say something when the doorknob wriggles, followed by a tentative knock. The two of you sit up and listen for who could be at the door, until a small voice calls your name through the wood, "My niece." You say, rigid. "She must be lost." You go to stand but to your surprise, Bruce is already at the door letting her in.

She stands at just about his knee, blanket clutched in her chubby arms and mouth hidden by the purple fleece. She has to turn her head all the way up to look him in the eyes, "Uncle Bruce," she says through a lisp, "where's the bathroom?"

You can't fully see Bruce's reaction from the bed. From the side, you watch his shoulders sag and his cheek rise in what you think is... a smile.

Very slowly, he comes to a crouch in front of her, "The bathroom?" He asks. She nods an affirmative. "Why didn't you ask Grandpa Alfred? He knows where everything is."

Her eyes dart to the side, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, "...Grandpa Alfred is scary."

Bruce laughs, actually laughs. He hasn't laughed around you. Hasn't managed more than a smile today, and only to placate your mother. He's warmer too, more open. You watch him. Mesmerized. "He is a little scary, isn't he? But I promise, he's really nice if you get to know him." Your niece doesn't seem so convinced. A moment passes as Bruce thinks of what to say, "How about I come with you to go ask him?"

Her eyes light up, "Really?"

"Really."

Bruce holds out his arms to her, and though she's reluctant, you watch her tumble into them with arms thrown around his neck. He hops back to his feet with her perched on his hip like she weighs nothing—and she probably does, to him—and asks her in a hushed voice if she's holding on tight.

Her little head turns to look at you over his shoulder and he follows, his smile weakening some.

You almost ask if she'd like you to come with, but think better of it. In the time it would take Bruce to complete this task, you could try to fall asleep. Maybe then it'd be easier on him to share the bed with you, "Go with Uncle Bruce. Maybe Grandpa Alfred will show you the fancy swords if you're brave enough to ask."

Your niece beams, urging Bruce to take her to him this instant, and they disappear out of sight.

You're half conscious when Bruce returns and shuts the door, but there is no click of the lock to follow after.

With your back turned, all you have to tell you where he is in the room are his small sighs. He's on his side, closer than you expected him to be so quickly, and you curse the carpet that hides his footfalls. You keep your breaths measured, pretending you're fully asleep, and wait for him to climb in.

One knee presses into the mattress, then the other, and you quickly remember the problem with this bed.

He's just laid on his side when you go sliding backwards, feeling your body collide with his chest. You force your eyes to stay closed but you are chilled with mortification. Should you move? Give up the facade of sleep and scramble for the other side of the bed? Would he shove you away?

You wait for his heavy hand to fall on your back, but... nothing. Seconds crawl forward at a snail's pace. You can feel the heat of his hand hovering over your hip where your night shirt had ridden up, but he never touches you. You take slow, deep breaths. You wait for him to wake you, then, if he won't shove you.

But that also never comes. The tips of his fingers lightly brush the skin of your hip, and then disappear. You feel his arm wiggle between the both of you, feel him shift a bit on the mattress, but nothing more. He doesn't push you away. Doesn't call your name. Doesn't shake you until you're forced to crawl to the other side.

He gets comfortable. Stiff, but comfortable, and he doesn't move you. You wonder, as the heat of his chest makes you conscious of your heart beating quicker, if it's too late to crawl back on your own.

You wait for what feels like hours contemplating it. So long, it feels like he might've fallen asleep behind you. So long, that you melt into his side of the mattress. So long, that sleep comes and morning soon after before you could even make up your mind.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat @yehet-moi-ohorat @bluestuesday

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne drabble #does this count as a drabble anymore lmao #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman fic #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites

[juyeonszn]

SAME DREAM, SAME MIND, SAME NIGHT

PAIRING kim younghoon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 3.60k

GENRES smut ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of crack tbh

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, fawn when she can’t get enough of the brothers best friend trope, hyunjae and jacob are side characters that never actually make an appearance, younghoon is wearing a ghostface mask for 2 seconds 😵‍💫, reader is down bad, younghoon is also down pretty bad, size kink — the obvious yk, he’s big everywhere tbh, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, missionary/lowkey mating press towards the end LMFAOOOO i’m sorry i got carried away, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pussy drunk!younghoon (i lied he’s down horrendous), creampie, the couch is a paid actor, last scene is kinda silly kinda cute, lmk if i missed anything!!

SUMMARY hyunjae really shouldn’t have left you home alone.

MORE and day 3 of fawntober has made her entrance 😈 i’m curious,,, how do we feel about these so far? i feel like i’m focusing on this challenge more than i am my school work 😭😭

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

Being home alone has never been much of an issue for you. All throughout high school, you stayed home by yourself when your parents worked late and your brother had practice. And even now, well into adulthood, you’d never really been afraid of being alone.

If it were up to you, you’d live all by yourself. But unfortunately, rent was way too expensive to afford on your own. More fortunately, your brother had a spare room in his apartment for you. Pros included low grocery costs, low monthly rent, and free parking. Cons included living with your brother, living with one of his best friends, and having to deal with two grown men who sometimes acted like children.

It was a Friday night and both Hyunjae and Jacob were out, attending a Halloween party one of their friends was throwing. The holiday was only a few days away, so almost everyone you knew was hosting parties this weekend. Along with being content to stay alone in your home, you were even more so to never leave it. Going out and getting black out drunk or worse didn’t sound very appealing to you.

Nights like these were the rare occasion you got to be with yourself and some movies, snuggled with a blanket on your couch. Living with only men did not provide any luxuries except maybe someone to kill a spider every now and then. So you were abusing the fuck out of the opportunity, dressed in nothing but an oversized sweatshirt and some crew socks, a mug of hot cocoa in your hands as you watch the second installment of the Scream franchise. (Might as well get in the holiday spirit.)

There’s a knock at your door, causing you to raise an eyebrow. It was half past midnight and your brother mentioned that he and Jacob would be crashing over at Sangyeon’s after the party. You were also very much single, so you weren’t expecting anyone to come over either. The only other possible explanation was maybe a food delivery, but you hadn’t ordered anything.

You assume it’s someone at the wrong apartment and choose to ignore it, putting your focus back on the movie. Your mug raises to your lips, taking a long sip of the now lukewarm drink just as the movie’s plot begins to progress. Before you can fully revert into your concentration, there’s another knock.

A sigh escapes your mouth, setting down the mug and pausing the movie. Your sock-clad feet trudge over to the front door, expression flat as you undo all of the locks and swing it open. You jump at the sight in front of you, nearly dying of a heart attack on the spot.

A tall figure, dressed in all black and wearing a Ghostface mask stands on the other side, one arm resting on the threshold of your doorframe and their body weight leaning against it. When they realize they’ve almost killed you, they gasp.

“Oh my god, I forgot I was wearing this stupid thing.”

The person hurriedly removes the mask to reveal one of your brother’s other friends, Kim Younghoon. The tall male rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, apologizing for nearly making you faint. You clutch at your chest as your breathing stabilizes and your heart rate returns to normal.

“Jesus, Younghoon. Couldn’t you have said something before I opened the door?” You hold the heel of your palm to your forehead.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he bows slightly, his eyes drifting off to something behind you. “Woah, wait, are you watching Scream 2 right now?”

“Uh, yeah?” At that moment you notice the silly coincidence that his costume happened to be Ghostface. “Do— um— do you wanna come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” He smiles, tucking his mask under his arm and following you into the apartment. He shuts the door behind him, making sure to hit all the locks as well.

As the two of you sit at the couch and you resume the movie, you purse your lips in confusion. You were curious as to why Younghoon was here in the first place, seeing as your brother was not. He had to have known that information himself considering he was dressed like he’d just come from a Halloween party. It only made sense that it was the same one Hyunjae and Jacob attended.

“Wait, so what are you doing here?” You ask, fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt. Shit, you weren’t wearing any pants…

“Oh! Right,” he nods, ruffling his hair a bit. “I woke up really early this morning and it was starting to catch up with me so I decided to leave Sangyeon’s party to head home. Hyunjae asked if I could stop by to check on you since it was on the way.”

A simple call or text from your brother himself couldn’t suffice? You guess the fact that Younghoon really did live close by coupled with Hyunjae’s intoxication might’ve been a factor in asking his friend for the favor. All you can do is hum in response.

You weren’t all that upset by Younghoon’s sudden appearance either, and you were more than happy to invite him into your apartment any time. Out of all of your brother’s friends, excluding Jacob, Younghoon was probably your favorite. Aside from having a little crush on his handsome face, he was the easiest to get along with and you felt comfortable around him. Sometimes you wish he was your other roommate instead.

But then again, the thought of him being so domestic around you was enough to send you into cardiac arrest, much like his accidental jumpscare from earlier. Just imagining waking up to him making coffee and breakfast in the kitchen, wearing your Hello Kitty apron, had your pulse quickening. Oh God, bumping into him exiting the bathroom after he’s showered? Nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his hips and droplets of water decorating his no doubtedly sculpted chest?

Did someone crank up the thermostat?

“Y/N? N/N. N/N… Y/N!”

You blink, snapping yourself back into reality. Younghoon waves his hands back and forth in front of your face, a cute pout on his lips. He really was not making this any easier for you. You clear your throat, hoping your face isn’t as red as it feels.

“Y-Yes?” Why did you have to stutter, you fucking loser? There you go, blowing your cover.

“I was just wondering if you’ve seen the movies before. But you kinda spaced out on me there. You okay?” He asks, face full of concern. It doesn’t do much to quiet the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. If anything, it makes it ten times worse.

“Oh… Um. Yeah, I have,” your voice wavers. “And I-I’m fine, I swear. Don’t even worry about me.”

Your efforts to convince him are futile and instead of de-escalating the situation, you just add further fuel to the fire. He leans in to you, permeating your personal bubble as he examines your expression. If he moved even closer, his lips could land on your own, and the idea of that has you shrinking in on yourself.

“Are you… nervous around me?”

Did he have any sense of self-awareness? Did he think he wasn’t intimidating in this proximity to you? Kim Younghoon’s new talent just dropped; driving you to the brink of insanity!

You swallow thickly, eyes a little wide like a deer caught in headlights. Your line of eyesight falters to his lips, even more kissable now that they’re so close to yours. You shake your head when you realize that you haven’t responded, praying and hoping you were keeping your composure.

“I don’t really believe you, Y/N,” he says, tone no louder than a whisper, but so voluminous in your empty apartment. “So, I’m gonna rephrase my question. Are you nervous to be alone with me?”

When you process his words, you come to the conclusion that, yes, you are nervous to be alone with him. Your brother and Jacob were usually around when he was, so you’d never been in this position before. You’ve never truly been alone with Younghoon. Perhaps that was because you knew you couldn’t keep your feelings to yourself, afraid you might fuck up and say something stupid to him.

A few seconds pass with nothing but the noise of the movie still playing in the background, your lips pressed together. His eyes bore into yours, dark and swirling with something that looks a whole lot like lust. Your silence is a sufficient answer for him, one of his hands coming up to support his weight on the armrest of the couch behind you. The other trails up your thigh, the sheer size of it big enough to nearly cover the expanse of your skin.

Younghoon’s lips part when he slides under your sweatshirt and finds that you’re not wearing anything underneath. His eyes flutter shut with a sigh, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“Tell me you don’t want this, tell me no before I lose all of my self control and I can’t hold back.” He lets his forehead fall to your shoulder, voice hushed.

The better, rational part of you wants to say no. It wants to tell him that you shouldn’t do this, because what would your brother think? Hyunjae would beat his ass if he found out about the two of you, especially on the living room sofa. Hell, he’d beat your ass for sleeping with one of his friends. But the part of you that was unhinged and has dreamt of this moment for years wants to say otherwise.

That part is what has you spreading your legs, taking Younghoon’s hand and leading it to where you need him most.

“Don’t hold back.” You breathe into his ear, your free hand coming up to the back of his neck and pulling his lips onto yours.

You whimper into his mouth as he kisses you, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your lace covered clit simultaneously. He’s by no means gentle, tongue tangling with your own roughly and desperately, as if he’s been dreaming of this just as much as you. He halts his motions, creeping further under your sweatshirt to palm your bare breasts and grind his hips into yours.

Your back arches off the couch, the feeling of his large hand on your chest goading your arousal. Younghoon presses open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, sucking and nipping your supple skin, licking the abused area to soothe any pain. You can feel him even through the material of his black cargo pants, already hard for you. Without seeing it, you have an inkling of what you’re working with.

Younghoon’s always been tall, standing at six feet with broad shoulders. As long as you’ve known him, his height alone was enough to scare people away, despite the fact that he had the personality of a hyperactive puppy. But now, his body looming over yours and his touch all over your skin, you can’t help but feel turned on by his size alone.

“Can I finger you?” He asks suddenly, slowly pushing up your sweatshirt so he can expose your cute panties. You nod frantically, biting the hem of your top to keep it out his way as he pushes your underwear down your legs with one hand. “Wanna prep you as best as I can, baby.”

He smiles at you again, and in spite of being in such a compromising situation, he looks so stunning. You remember the reason why you’ve had a crush on him this long, because aside from his beauty, he was also doting and caring, willing to go above and beyond for those near and dear to him.

You squirm a bit beneath him when his middle finger glides through your folds with ease, you slick providing enough lubricant for him. He all but groans, inserting the digit into your entrance. Your moans are muffled by your sweatshirt in your mouth, his long finger so deep inside of you it brushes that one spongy spot you could never reach yourself.

Younghoon uses his thumb to circle your clit as his finger thrusts in and out of you, kissing along your jaw. He glances down and moans at the sight of your tits jostling around with each pump of his finger. He lowers his head to attach his mouth to one of your nipples, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.

There’s so much going on, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head when his finger curls and his teeth scrape the swell of your breast. If his slender middle finger wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, then the sound of him being so vocal was, vibrations spreading on the surface of your skin. Younghoon adds the slightest amount of pressure to your clit when he sinks his pearly whites into your collarbone, coaxing your orgasm.

He swallows your whines, waiting until you’ve stopped spasming under him to slow his assault. He pulls his hoodie over his head, helping you remove your sweatshirt afterward. Your chest heaves, watching with heavy eyelids as Younghoon scoots himself further down the couch. He brings himself eye level with your cunt, experimentally blowing air on your core. You shiver, biting the inside of your lip and running a hand through his hair.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he makes eye contact with you, pressing a sweet kiss to your clit. “Can't believe you’ve been hiding this from me.”

Younghoon pushes your knees up to your chest, hands digging into the fat of the backs of your thighs. The position gives him better access to your glistening cunt. He licks a long line from your hole to your pelvic bone, flattening his tongue against you and repeating once more.

“Fuck, Hoon,” you mewl, holding the back of your hand to your forehead. “That feels so good.”

He hums, lips wrapping around your clit and giving it a harsh suck. That particular action rips a loud moan from your vocal cords. He doesn’t get any gentler, sliding both his middle and ring fingers into you as he continues making out with your pussy. Your head feels light and airy, your brain incapable of producing any coherent thoughts aside from how badly you need his cock inside of you. His thick fingers aren’t enough, you need more. You need him to fill you completely.

The pads of his fingers continuously brush along your velvety walls, inching you closer and closer to your tipping point. You aren’t sure you can last much longer, especially with the promise of having him fully following this. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he wound you up and knocked you over the ledge again, like he was already so familiar with what you needed.

He swirls his tongue around your clit, alternating between curling his fingers and straightening them. It’s as if he’s doing a come-hither motion. Your whines are uncontrollable at this point, tugging at his hair with every suckle of your engorged skin. The sting on his scalp has him moaning against your cunt, the resonance shooting through your whole body.

“Shit shit, I’m cumming— I’m—“

Your hips buck up towards his mouth, his skillful tongue and fingers still working your overstimulated pussy until you’re begging him to stop. Good God, you already finished twice and he hadn’t even properly fucked you yet. You’re a panting mess beneath him when he parts with your lower lips, chin shiny with your release.

“You can give me one more, right?” Younghoon licks his lips to taste the remnants of your sweetness, wrapping them around his fingers to do the same thing. You let out a strained moan, nodding and connecting your mouths to kiss him roughly.

He laughs into the kiss, pulling back to tuck your hair behind your ear. His eyes resemble crescent moons, crinkled at the sides. His duality gives you whiplash. How could someone so sexy be so adorable at the same time? It was beyond you.

He goes to unbutton his pants, kicking them along with his underwear off his legs as he leans down to kiss you again. You gasp when you’re finally given the opportunity to see his dick, hard and flushed for you. You reach down to stroke him, reveling in the hiss he makes when your thumb glides over his sensitive tip.

You guide him to your entrance, but he pauses. “Wait, I don’t have anything on me.”

“It’s okay, Hoon,” you place a comforting hand on his cheek. “I trust you. I’m clean, I’m assuming you’re clean, and I’m on birth control. I wanna feel you— all of you.”

His head falls to your shoulder once more with a groan, his cock prodding your hole almost instantaneously. You exhale through your nose heavily, the stretch burning so good that you’re raking your nails down his back. Even the feeling of his broad shoulders and back muscles beneath your fingertips sends you into a frenzy. He’s just so huge. You’d never wanted to be ruined by someone as much as you wanted to be ruined by him.

Younghoon coos when you start to whimper, slowly pushing himself all the way in to his pelvic bone. He massages the back of your thighs, still pushed to your chest, pulling out gently before ramming his entire length back in. He does this a few more times to ensure your cunt has adjusted to his size, but the thought of you wrapped so tightly and warmly around him is enough to make him bust without going through the motions fully.

Your sweet pussy is so inviting, sucking him in like a fucking aspirator. He risks a glance down to where his hips meet yours, moaning so uncharacteristically at the sight of you enveloping his cock, coating it with your previous release. You clench when the sound hits your ears, provoking one of your own.

His thrusts are calculated, dragging them out so they’re deep rather than shallow. Despite not pounding into your brutally, like you were used to with past partners, you think you like this better. You can feel all of him this way. Every vein, every pulse, every fucking graze along your insides— as if he was meant to be there.

“You’re taking me so— fuck— so well, baby,” he breathes, voice hoarse in the crook of your neck. “Don’t know how much longer I can last.”

“G-God, you’re s-so b-big,” you cry, sinking your fingernails into his shoulder blades. “I feel so— oh my god— feel so full.”

You look so pretty underneath him, he doesn’t even care that he might go to hell for fucking you. He’d let Hyunjae murder him any day of the week if it guaranteed his spot above you, cock buried to the goddamn hilt. He places his forearm behind your knees, pressing your legs flat and practically folding you in half so he can speed up his tempo.

Younghoon throttles into you at a near animalistic pace, skin slapping on skin echoing throughout your apartment. You’re fucked stupid, noises that you can’t comprehend leaving your mouth to punctuate every single drive of his dick in your cunt and eyes fluttering shut. His tip kisses at that one spot that scratches your itch each time.

One particular gyration of his hips snaps that cord in your stomach and you’re cumming a third time, jaw going slack as your body spasms with the force of your orgasm. You produce no sound, the wave of your release cresting like a jolt of euphoria to your head, Younghoon following suit. However, his reaction is the opposite, so cacophonous and pornographic that it prolongs the twitching of your velvet-like walls, milking him dry of everything he can offer.

As both of you come down from your peaks, oxygen recirculating in your brains, Younghoon sighs and slips out of you. You wince, still so very sensitive from all three of your orgasms and how aggressively he was hitting it those last few minutes. You watch with choked groans as a combination of your cum flows out of your cunt onto the sofa.

Hyunjae was going to lose his mind.

“Shit, we gotta clean this up,” you panic, finally sobering up and moving into a sitting position. “I’d prefer to live long enough to tell you how much I like you.”

“Woah, wait,” his eyes widen animatedly. “Y-You like me?”

You gape at him, confused how after everything you just did together, he would think you didn't have feelings for him. “I just let you fuck me on the couch I share with my brother and Jacob. Do you think I’d do that if I didn’t like you?”

“I dunno. Maybe you were just really horny?” He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck shyly, like he hadn’t just rearranged your insides six ways to Sunday. You get on your knees, capturing his lips in a soft kiss that portrays all the words you could’ve ever wanted to say and more.

“Does that answer your question?” You ask, pecking them once again. “I like you so much, Younghoon. I have since, like, my freshman year of uni.”

He smiles warmly, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. “That’s funny because I’ve liked you since then, too.”

“That makes me so happy to hear,” you giggle, nuzzling into his palm. “Okay, now get up so I can deep clean this fucking couch.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz younghoon #tbz younghoon #kim younghoon x reader #kim younghoon smut #younghoon x reader #younghoon smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

[littyhoney]

If your comfortable with it could you write 42!miles and black widow!reader 'enemies to lover's ' type of thing but what if in another dimension they are older and have kids and those kids getting in dimension 42. They are twins and 15 but just them being confused couse "why were our parents so mean to each other when they were our age"

-⚡

Unexpected. (Part 1)

(part 1) (part 2)

Earth 42 Miles x Fem!Reader

(Enemies to lovers trope)

Summary: Can two vigilante ever work together? No,But the future proves otherwise.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, weapons, curse words, slight violence.

This is a request that are challenging for me to work on but you know what, we dont run from challenges. I want to make this into a long one part story but the pacing of this makes me divide it into 2 parts. Enjoy spiders! &lt;3

The alarm goes off loudly at the jewelry store as the robber is smashing the glass case displaying the gold,diamonds and variety of gems. Each one shoving as many jewelry they can into the bag,not noticing a figure is stalking them from the dark. You slowly creep behind the slim one before hold him in a chokehold with your palm againts his mouth 2 fingers pressing lose both of his nosetril. The robber franticly try to pry your arms as he losing his concious and slump to the ground with a thud.

The other 2 robber turns around looking at the body of his unconcious raising their guns ready to shot at anything that moves, the two of them heard a few crunches of glass beside them and they blast one round of a magazine towards the sound. They stop,silent fill the room again before the figure came from behind the robber at the back hitting their skull with a baton and sweep his feet to the ground. The 3rd robber turn around firing towards the figure but the figure moves fast and agile as they jump locking their legs around the robber’s neck and pulling them down resulting to the robber smack his skull on to the floor that have glasses from the display.

You crouch standing up focusing back to the 2nd robber struggling to stand up, you take a sprint and swing your feet hitting the boot right across his face making him fall unconcious. You look down at the body not noticing the robber behind you slowly and shakingly lifting his fun to you and pull the trigger,one bulet escape the chamber, a flash of purple came from the ceiling claws piercing againts the back of the robber,ending his life.

You turn around to see non other than the Prowler, your rival. “I don’t need any help” you huff stepping over the body walking towards the button where it can alert the police incase of emergency (this is available in almost all jewelry store)

“Clearly you need help mami” The prowler pull his claw out of the body,coating it red at the tip “Your work is sloppy,it almost got you killed” he stands up, his purple mask follow your movement.

“Wow what a hero, I got saved by a clown in a neon mask” You said rolling your eyes,sarcasticly. “Unlike you,I always keep my job clean while yours is an amateur mess” You said mentioning how he always leave a bloody scenes everytime he ‘take care’ of criminals. You reach your hand under the cashier desk and pressing the button, making the alarm blare through the room.

The prowler look at you before looking down at your abdomen,annoyed by his gaze on you “It’s rude to stare dumbass” you snap towards him.

“You’re hurt” he simply says as he walk towards you. “W-what? No I didn’t-” you look down to see a red starting to seep out staining your outfit. The adrenaline starts to wear off as you now feeling the warm pain coming from the bullet wound, you put your palm over it hissing as the bullet doesn’t go all the way through “Shit..shit”. You are panicking in your head,you cant go home like this,what will your mother say? Or your siblings?

The Prowler have already on your side picling you up and over his shoulder,the police will come any minute,with your injuries you can only run so far with blood trailing behind you. “You’re coming with me” he said before running through the back and up the fire scape, using his claw to pull himself up.

“W-wait! Put me down you ass! I did not agree to this!” you hiss as your body jolt up and down by his movements as he jump from rooftop to rooftop. “You really don’t have any choice Mami,either the police follow your trail or you limp out of the store and got caught” He speak as he keeps running towards his lair. You hung your head over his shoulder,knowing he is right besides you cant go home to your mom with a bullet in your stomach.

Finally arrive at his lair the Prowler put you down on the rusty couch before goes around searching for needed equipments to pull the bullet out, this is not the first time he did this as he and uncle Aaron have been patching one another,but mostly Aaron patch him up. He turn on a light above you and take a stool to sit beside you ready himself, he reach to pull your top off.

“Woah hey what you doing!?” your face flush slightly seeing his hand reaching for your black top,pushing yourself away from him further to the couch. You hear him sigh annoyed by your action slightly “Your wound Idiota” oh. “right..right” you slump back on the couch before reaching your hand to the end of your top and pull it back up exposing your stomach,you exhaled looking at the wound.

Miles open up his mask,letting his braids fall over his shoulder so he can look properly at your wound,with a black plastic gloves on he put his palm againts your stomach using the other hand to hold the scalpel digging around your stomach carefully to reach the bullet. He is so careful and focus on your wound not noticing that you are watching him in awe.

The light from the ceiling shine from above highlight his cheekbone and jawline as he tilt his head in concentration. You have never saw someone so….beautiful but deadly, his brown eyes look like a pool of honey, kissable lips pursing brows frown slightly as he seem to find it dificult to reach the bullet. He seems to be same age as you are, a teen, but he looks much more mature…handsome even. You admit it to yourself,the braids really compliment his looks.

“Its rude to stare mami” he glance his eyes towards you before smirking slightly,finding it amusing to see you drooling over his face.

You snap shaking your head slightly “Don’t flatter yourself prick” before leaning your head back on the couch looking at the ceiling. You hear him chuckle lightly “just admit it mami,I won’t bite” you clench your hand fighting the urge to just punch him right then and there but the though vanished as you hiss out a pain bitting your hand.

He drop the blood covered bullet in a tray and start to take the needle to stitch you up, he reach behind him for some clean towel folding it and hand it out to you. “Here,just incase if its too much just bite on it”.

Right,unlike hospital they have something to numb the pain,here is just you pray for the pain to pass. You take the clothes and put it between your teeth,bracing your hand on the couch. You gave him a nod closing your eyes bracing for the pain.

Miles take this as a sign and start stitch you up,careful in every step not wanting to mess up the stitches. You squeeze your eyes tightly,body tense as you feel the pain. You bite hard againts the cloth clenching your palm againts the sofa.

“Almost there, just a few more” he says to you after he notice your body tensing at the pain,a slight guilt runs through him as he though maybe if he were quicker you would’nt be in so much pain. Somehow you find a slight comfort in his voice. You huff when he finally finish with the stiching, you turn your head to look at him finding out he is staring at you. His eyes are soft,but still held the hardness in them before he speaks to you surprisngly gentle “You okay mami?”

You gulp down a saliva resting your head back on the sofa nodding “Yeah..yeah just need a minute” You feel him stand up taking the tray “Rest up,you’re in no condition to go move” walking away to the table that have a sink to wash the blood away. You chuckle “What are you,my daddy?”

He continue to keep washing the blood away replying “I could be mami” he teases you back.

You scrunch your face “God,such a pervert little shit” you hear him chuckle.

Suddenly the place shook as a bright portal looking thing just appear at the ceiling, it caught both of you off guard but Miles quickly reach for his claw on top of the table before standing infront of you trying to protect you from whatever the hell is happening. “What the fuck is that!?” you standing up clutching your side help your arms up from the blinding light. “Shit I don’t know!” Miles ready he claw as he saw two figure drop from the portal thing before it dissapear.

The two figure groans as the bottom one push the one that falls on top of it off with a “get off!” before it stands up looking around confuse as to how they got there “The hell are we?”

Miles waste no time but to run and leap towards the figure slaming it to the concrete with his claw raise while the other is holding down the person’s throat. “Who and what the fuck do you want” Miles hiss the words through his teeth as he glare towards the figure.

The other figure screamed out “Wait stop! We don’t want anything man get off of him!” the figure try to reason with a very pissed off Prowler,well trying it’s best. You on the other hand reach for the wall to turn on all the lights In the room when you finally feel the switch you flip it and the whole room lights up showing the two mystery figure while the two strangers see clearly who are they encountering.

 The one that is pinned down by Miles face changes from anger into a shock mouth open slightly as he take a very close look at the Prowler,he blinks “D-dad?”

The one that tries to reason with Miles then turn his head to you,a same reaction happens as he blinks as he yelled out “Ma!?”

 You look at the two figures,before the word sinks in to you at what did they just called you “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?”

To be continued...

(This is my first time writing this trope it's kinda weird im sorry. But chapter 4 for Right Person,Wrong Time will be out soon stay tune for future updates spiders <;3)

#miles morales x reader #prowler miles #miles morales #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x y/n

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

I always see this pretty common g/t horror trope (and sci fi trope in general) about something Big and Scary coming to a colony of Littles (usually humans) and subsequently using them as a farm source for food despite having to eat like 50 people for a single meal or whatever

But what about the reverse?

Depending on the size, a giant could easily feed an entire city of tinies, never mind the fact that if they only take chunks at a time then their meat source could continually regenerate. 5-10 giants could sustain a full country whereas hundreds of tinies would only fill up on giant for a couple days. Remember those gnarly movies where a character would get swarmed by insects and be cleaned down to the bone in a matter of minutes?

"well the giant could easily kill the tinies--" sure, initially, yeah. But you get locked in a room with 500 hungry rats, your chances aren't great even if you reduce it down to 300 before you give out because of their constant attacks.

Can you imagine the horror of realizing you're about to become a living food source, continually and painfully harvested by little chunks at a time to ensure your meat stays fresh and you can heal parts of it back? Being kept alive by the bare minimum, helpless and restrained in some foreign place, kept in the most inhumane conditions because you're nothing more than a supersized livestock? Given injections and specialized feed that are only meant to make you tastier, regardless of how they actually affect your health?

Unsure of the day you'll finally be slaughtered by something smaller than your fist, losing parts of yourself down to the bone, having less and less hope that you'll be rescued while hearing the consumption of your friends just a few bays away. And that's only if you're being used in an intelligent society that can keep you locked up for manufactured processing. There's very much a chance you could simply be held down and devoured bite by bite by a colony of tiny things in either 20 minutes or 20 hours.

At least in that case, you could hope that after a few days of open wounds, your meat would spoil enough that they'd stop eating whatever is left of you and grant you the mercy of escape. If you don't succumb to the infections.

Oh and that's just being eaten like nibbling on a chicken wing. Do I even need to mention being eaten from the inside out?

#g/t #giant/tiny #macro/micro #gianttiny #size difference #g/t horror #fearplay #g/t fearplay #whump #g/t whump #giant whump #g/t body horror #sorry if this is insane rambling but i just have many thoughts about this because i love horror and sci fi and sci fi horror #tinies should be fucked up little creature too #eat dem giants like a turkey leg #g/t angst

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

❀ whumpee x caretaker tropes where whumpee and caretaker are enemies ༊*· ┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ ˘͈

tw: force feeding, mention of vomit

✘ caretaker has whumpee locked in a room (or chained down to a bed) so that whumpee can’t escape, except that — instead of whumpee’s completely being a prisoner — caretaker’s having to hold whumpee captive is genuinely for whumpee’s own safety, too.

✘ whumpee constantly expects caretaker to hurt them.

✘ whumpee may be injured, but they’re not submissive. they always hiss and snarl at caretaker like a caged animal; clearly scared and terrified, yes, but they refuse to surrender.

✘ whumpee tries to attack caretaker, but with them being hurt, caretaker can easily overpower them by placing a firm hand on the back of whumpee’s neck and holding them down to the bed, keeping them still. (keep in mind that caretaker is not hurting whumpee, they’re in fact keeping whumpee from hurting them and themself in the process.)

✘ feeding time is a nightmare when whumpee constantly tries to literally bite caretaker’s hand.

✘ whumpee thrashes around when caretaker holds their jaw open with one hand, feeding them with the other, forcing the food down their throat.

✘ neither whumpee nor caretaker is having a good time.

✘ whumpee always challenges caretaker to kill them and just get it over with. but even though whumpee tries to hide it, caretaker can still see genuine fear in whumpee’s eyes.

✘ caretaker isn’t going to “comfort” whumpee (they’re enemies, duhhh), but caretaker does tell whumpee that they’re not going to hurt them. that whumpee doesn’t believe caretaker is… none of caretaker’s problem.

✘ whumpee gets sick and throws up on their bed / on the floor (the choice is yours), they are less embarrassed than they are surprised by how gentle caretaker is being, as caretaker helps clean them up.

✘ or how mindful caretaker is when they’re changing whumpee’s bandages.

✘ caretaker gives whumpee a bath and when whumpee reflexively tries to cover their wounds and their scars even if they know caretaker has already seen them all (because they don’t want caretaker to see what they consider a sign of weakness), caretaker says, “you don’t have to feel like you have to hide your injuries from me. I’m not them. I’m not going to take advantage of your wounded stage. I’m not going to hurt you.” — “what do you want then?” whumpee asks. — “I just want to take care of you and make sure you’re okay,” caretaker replies, firmly but softly with no hint of mockery in their voice.

✘ caretaker hears whumpee cry at night. though whumpee stops and pretends to be asleep when they hear the door open.

✘ caretaker knows whumpee is awake, but caretaker chooses not to say anything.

✘ or, one night, whumpee is awake but pretends to be asleep. this time, however, caretaker doesn’t know whumpee is actually awake when they walk over to whumpee’s bed to adjust the blanket properly around whumpee’s shoulders. whumpee keeps still and continues pretending to be asleep. they only open their eyes when they’re certain caretaker has already left the room, but they don’t push the blanket away, for some reason.

#whump #angst #enemies to friends #enemies to lovers #writer #writing #writeblr #whumpblr #whump tropes #writing tropes #whump trope #writing trope #whump promptd #whump prompt #writing prompts #ao3 #writing prompt #tropes #prompts #trope #prompt #writing challenge #whump community #archive of our own #angst tropes #angst prompts #writing inspiration #writing inspo #whump scenario #whump scenes

[lonleydweller]

Well aware of requests, but I would love your favourite slasher yandere hcs!

🥀Yandere Norman Bates hcs🥀

THANK YOU THANK YOU ANON!! ^^ So excited to get a slasher request!! Sorry if this seems rushed I was just super excited to write it

!Warnings!: yandere trope, spoilers for pyscho, stalking, murder, kidnapping, mentions of reader possibly dying

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● You're more than likely just another person passing through, staying the night, wanting nothing more than to sleep and be gone in the morning, off to your destination. Having gotten lost off the main road, after all, no one stops by anymore unless they've done that.

● He greets you with the same friendliness he gives most of his guests, ushering you in, offering you food. Quickly becoming enamored with you as soon as you walk in. Obsession festering from a simple small chat.

● At first your fate seemed like it would end up like the rest of the people Norman's shown interest in, dead by the hands of his "mother".

● However in this case by some miracle after bickering and pleading with himself, he manages to convince his other personality to not kill you. That you're different than the rest! Who knows, maybe even mother will start taking a liking to you.

● You're given room one, right next to the front desk if you need anything, walls so thin you can knock on the wall if you need anything. Thin enough to poke a peephole through. With you none the wiser.

● Then there's issue of you leaving.. he can't have that can he? It's unlikely he'd never see you again. The only person his mother approved of. The only chance at any kind of connection that wouldn't immediately end up as a body in the swamp. No, no, he can't let you leave.

● He'll make you stay, wether it be by begging, by slashing your tires, by locking you up in his home, or keeping what remains of you in his basement with the delusion that you're still there.

● If he dosen't take the most extreme option, you'll wake trapped up in the guest room of his home. With Norman doting over you, frantically trying explain and rationalize his actions to you as you scream and cry to be let go.

● He understands to a degree, but at the same time he dosen't. He dosen't understand entirely what he's doing is wrong, but he isn't oblivious either.

● As for example he's shown in the film to show some remorse about Marion's death, before quickly cleaning it up and hiding the evidence. He's aware it's wrong to some degree.

● He knows that the law and general populous would view what he's doing to you as wrong, but he excuses it in his mind. He needs you here. Its better for both of you this way. In his mind you just need time to adjust and you'll be fine. He just needs to be patient. That's what he tells himself.

● An escape wouldn't nesscarily be easy either. Not many people stop the motel, let alone Norman's house. There's no places nearby within walking or running distance. Then of course you have norman wacthing over you like a hawk, one that will swoop down and stop your plans, unlike the lifeless stuffed birds that decorate his parlor.

● You'll haft to walk on eggshells, while Norman tries his best, swearing he won't hurt you, who says his mother side won't get fed up with you? What stops him from killing you in a last dicth effort to make you stay? He wouldn't even see the difference. As long as he has your body, has the delusion in his head, you're still alive to him.

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#writers on tumblr #dweller's writing #yandere #cw: yandere #tw: yandere #yandere slashers #slashers x reader #slasher #yandere norman bates #Norman bates #1960s pyscho #pyscho 1960s #Norman bates x reader

[merakiui]

the trapped in a room trope soft or rough noncon with bully tweels

Omg how unlucky... >_< the last people you want to be stuck in a locked room with are your bullies. For the first hour or so, Floyd's pushing you around, grumbling about how lame this is and demanding you find a way out, or else he'll squeeze you dead. He's so impatient. Jade doesn't seem to mind. He stands by, watching you attempt to stand up for yourself when Floyd's bullying you and relishing in the amusement. Every now and then, he'll join in, all sharp smiles, and kindly suggest you keep trying to escape. "You wouldn't want to upset Floyd now, would you?" :) all with that insufferably polite smile of his!!!!

You thought it couldn't possibly get worst, but then there's writing on the wall saying that the only way to get out of the room is to have sex. Suddenly, the air changes. Suddenly, Floyd and Jade are looking at you more intently. Suddenly, it's no longer "Shrimpy does all the work to get us out." Now it's a team effort...or at least it is for the tweels. You laugh at the wall at first; it's such a crazy thing. There's no way they believe it, right? Surely there's another way to get out. But the twins are looming over you, all creepy smiles and giggles.

"Well, isn't this a fun development?"

"Yeeaah, seems like it, huh? So all we gotta do is fuck and we can leave? Cool. Shrimpy, c'mere for a sec."

T_T you cower in a corner, shaking your head at both of them. Suddenly they seem nicer, sweeter almost? And they talk to you softly, a stark contrast to their insincere behaviors from before.

"There's really nothing to fear, (Name). We want to escape as much as you do. It will only be a few minutes. You're in good hands," Jade promises, a hand held over his heart.

"Yeah! We'll treat ya good, so stop actin' like a lil bitch and lemme hold ya." Floyd's a little less softer than his brother, but his eyes are kind. At least they are for a second before he's glaring at you.

You're so difficult sometimes. Oh, but the fear on your face is a good look...

"Floyd, you're scaring the poor thing half to death." Jade chuckles, hiding a wicked smile behind his fist.

Floyd huffs and straightens his back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Not my fault Shrimpy's bein' annoyin'."

One way or another, you're going to end up stuffed full. Floyd gets tired of this back and forth and even Jade's secretly sick of assuring you. Floyd grabs you by the arm and drags you from out of your corner, ignoring the way you struggle and kick and cry. Conveniently, there's a bed in this room and you're shoved onto it, face-first and ass up. Floyd's hand is wrapped snugly around your neck, forcing you into the mattress. You try to squirm, but he tightens his grip and flashes his teeth at you in warning. You know what it means: stop fucking moving or I'll snap your neck.

You have to promise you won't fight back or try to run away (not that you can go anywhere) so that Floyd finally releases you. Jade takes his sweet time undressing you, running his hands over your bare skin and saying the kindest things. "See? There's no need to be so evasive. Why hide yourself from us? You're very beautiful." It's a nice balance between Floyd's cruel teasing. He slaps your ass just to see you flinch and listen to your startled yelps. Honestly, you know better than to look fearful in front of two deep-sea predators. Don't you know fear is so tantalizing to creatures from the Coral Sea? Don't you know it only makes you look even more enticing?

Omg and they spend a long time working you open and toying with your body, bullying you for being such a virgin. Look how much you came from their fingers alone. You're the cutest, most pathetic thing ever, trembling through your orgasms and crying at them. You say you hate them, but then you wouldn't be tightening this much around their fingers or arching your back when they kiss and nip at your neck. It's Floyd's idea to mark you up so everyone knows who you belong to, so that you'll look completely used when you come staggering out of the room after it's unlocked. And Jade would never disagree to such a good idea. >:) aaaa they're really so mean. You can't even try to enjoy it because the minute you do they're poking fun at you.

It's even worse when they're undressed and you're faced with two very big, very thick dicks and woooooo how are you ever going to fit both of them?! It's impossible! You can't! But Floyd grabs you by the hair and pushes your face into his dick, forcing you to take him in your mouth. You're shaking so much. :( you're so scared and his grip is unrelenting. At least Jade's kind enough to pet your head and guide your hand to his dick, patiently assisting you until you find your pace. And you're crying the entire time; your technique is sloppy and inexperienced because you've never given head before and Floyd teases you for it. "Shrimpy's so bad at this!" And Jade agrees like: "Unfortunately, your technique is rather...lacking." They're terrible, and you spend too much time stalling around Floyd's tip that he grabs you by the face and thrusts all the way down your throat. You choke and gag, more tears springing to your eyes, and Floyd wheezes with laughter. Even Jade's amused by the struggle, quietly chuckling on the sidelines.

It doesn't improve when they talk amongst themselves, debating which hole they should get or if they should just try to fit both in at once. Obviously, you flinch at the mention of the latter and the twins pick up on your fear right away, as if it's the potent scent of blood in water. You beg them not to, but Jade's tied your wrists together behind your back and so you can't shove him off even if you tried.

"Course it'll fit," Floyd assures you, ruffling your hair and grinning down at you. He forces your legs apart and jams two fingers in your slick hole. You jolt at the intrusion. "Or maybe not. Shrimpy's super tight."

"Oh? Even after all that thorough preparation?" Jade tilts his head at you.

There's no swaying the twins after they've made up their minds. You have no choice but to brace yourself when they sandwich you, lining themselves up. You keep begging and begging, but it won't do anything. To add even more salt to your wounds, Floyd licks your tears away and Jade swipes them with his thumb.

"Come on, don't be so scared. It'll be fun, Shrimpy!" He pinches your cheeks and pulls your lips up into a forced smile.

"We'll be gentle." It's an empty promise from Jade. Everything he's said since you were trapped has been an empty promise.

They're so big, and the stretch hurts. No amount of lube or slick could prepare you for it. You sob into Jade's shoulder while Floyd bites your neck from behind. It hurts. You want them to stop, but they're not even halfway in yet. They can't stop now! And at some point, pain falls away and is replaced with pleasure. Maybe it's because Floyd's hands are roaming and Jade's kisses are sugary sweet. Maybe it's because you feel so full and there's something so erotically pleasing about that. Or maybe it's because they're paying so much attention to you and it's a different sort of attention than the usual bullying you receive from them.

By the end of it, you're begging for more. Jade and Floyd hope they didn't break you so soon. But even if they did, that's okay. You're still fun even if logical thoughts have been fucked out of your brain. <3

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #tw: noncon #mean eels... >:(

[holylulusworld]

The cabin in the woods - Kinktober 15

Summary: You only wanted to clean out the family cabin...

Written for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor’s Roo's HalloCream Extravaganza writing challenge. I totally forgot I signed up for the challenge. Sorry, this one took me so long.

My prompt was: While cleaning out the old family cabin, you begin to suspect that someone else has been living there...

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: C3: Winter Soldier

Pairing: Winter Soldier x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, creepy vibes, fear, choking (non-sexual), dark winter soldier, no happy ending, implied kidnapping/keeping the reader, irresponsible behavior (driving while being tired)

Trope/Kink: non-sexual choking

Words: 1,3k+

A/N: We are halfway through kinktober. So, we are getting a creepy little story today.

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Exhaustion is taking a toll on you. For days you are traveling across the country to clean your family cabin out. Of course, no one else from your family wanted to help you.

“Fuck,” you struggle to keep your eyes open, while you fight the overwhelming tiredness you are experiencing from driving for too long.

Close to reaching the cabin you don’t want to stop and pay for a rat-infested motel and dirty sheets. Why waste money on something you can have at your family’s cabin too?

“So close,” you yawn and rub your eyes with one hand. Just a few more minutes and you can lay down. Tomorrow you’ll clean out the cabin and be on your way back to civilization and away from memories leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

You shudder at the memory of your last encounter with your grandfather.

Something was wrong with him at that time. Until that day, you remember your grandfather was the most caring person you could imagine. Suddenly he was a completely different person.

Your grandfather yelled at your father, blaming him for a failure. He pushed your father against a wall and almost hit you when you tried to stop him from hurting your father.

Honestly, you didn’t understand half of the things they were talking about. You were barely eight years old.

Another yawn escapes your mouth when you take the small path leading to your family’s cabin. It’s a miracle you made it to the cabin in one piece. “Almost there.”

Slowing the car down you try to park it close to the cabin. It’s already pitch-black, and your eyes are burning from driving for so long.

You kill the engine when you see the front door, illuminated by the headlights of your car.

“Home sweet…whatever.” 

Before you get out of the car, you crack your neck. It’s past midnight and you are ready to fall asleep in your seat.

You force yourself to get out of the car and open your trunk to get your bag out.

After a good night's sleep, you’ll start cleaning out the cabin.

Hopefully, it will only take you one or two days. You can hardly wait to drive back home and spend some quality time with your boyfriend.

Stepping inside the dark cabin you use your phone, instead of looking for the flashlight in your trunk. You’re too tired to do more than lock the door behind you and walk straight toward the small bedroom in the back of the cabin.

You drop your bag to the floor and shove your jacket down your shoulders. The last thing you are capable of is kicking your shoes off before lying down on the bed.

Sleep consumes you only minutes later.

The cabin is silent, except for the creaking of the floor, indicating you are not alone…

“No, Mickey…wait,” you groan as your boyfriend refuses to help you clean out the cabin. “The bedroom doesn’t look so bad. It’s rather clean.”

Frowning you look around the room. It’s not a lie. The room looks clean, almost sterile. Now that you think about it, the sheets smelled clean too. There is no dust on the nightstand, and there is a carpet on the floor you have never seen before.

“Wait, I…” your boyfriend hangs up, ending the call before you can talk him into helping you. “Asshole.”

You slowly get up from the bed to have a look around the room. You didn’t imagine things. It should be covered with dust and filth after not having seen any visitors for over ten years.

“Maybe they try to fuck with me. I bet Cara was here with one of her loser boyfriends without telling us so,” you huff. “But they couldn’t clean out the cabin. Great.”

There is no use in moping around. No one will help you clean out the cabin. You’re on your own as so often since your grandparents died in an accident.

After you hastily redressed, you decided to clean out the bedroom first. There wasn’t much you wanted to keep. Only the picture frame from the nightstand and a broken pocket watch you found under the bed. You never saw the watch before, but assume it belonged to your grandfather.

“All done here, let’s get to the other rooms,” you grumble under your breath. You’re still angry at your family, boyfriend, and friends. Everyone let you down this weekend.

As you step inside the living room, you wonder again. It’s as clean as the bedroom. Even the old sheets you put over the couch and armchair are gone.

“I don’t get it. They all said no one was here for years.”

Walking further inside the living room you frown deeply. The picture frames on the shelf above the fireplace are empty. All the pictures of your grandparents and parents are gone.  

A cold shiver runs down your spine. Something doesn’t feel right. The cabin is clean, and many things you wanted to take with you are gone.

But there are also new things. Like the carpet in the bedroom and the pocket watch you found under the bed.

Now there is a knife on the coffee table. Not a normal knife. No. This one looks like a combat knife from one of those cheap action movies Mickey loves watching.

“This can’t be,” you try to assure yourself, but your racing heart tells you otherwise. Your flight or fight instinct kicks in. It’s not your imagination. Someone was at your family’s cabin or still is.

“You’re imagining things.” You say a little louder. “I should get the other moving boxes and pack things up.”

Your car keys and phone are in the pocket of your jeans. If only you could make it to the door without running into whoever is hiding at the cabin, you’re out of the woods.

Glancing around the room you try to even your breathing. If you imagined things, so be it. You can come back here with Mickey and your friends next weekend and never tell them you panicked.

If not…

Before you can decide against it, you go for a sprint, running toward the front door. You grab the door handle, tugging at it only to find it still locked.

“Fuck,” fishing the keys out of your pocket you pray that you lost your mind. If not, you just saw a man storm toward you.

“Don’t move!” His hand is around your throat before you get the chance to unlock the door. “What are you doing at my home?”

You claw at his hand, but it’s no use. The hand holding your throat in a tight grip is made of metal. Tears spring from your eyes as his hold on your throat tightens. If only he presses a little tighter, he’ll break your windpipe.

“P-lease,” you trash around, fighting with all you’ve got. “P-“

“Who are you?” He leans closer, cold blue eyes searching your scared face. “Are you with them? Did you come here to kill me?”

You try to shake your head and tell him you’re only here to clean out the cabin, but he won’t listen. “Who are you?”

“Cabi-n…grandpa,” it hurts fighting him. You’re in severe pain, but he won’t let up. He holds your life in his hand, still demanding answers as your ears begin to ring.

You try to scratch his face, neck, or any part of his skin you can reach. You’re dizzy and your head feels like it’s going to explode. The fight is lost. You know it’s only a matter of seconds before you'll lose consciousness.

Breathing feels impossible, and your eyes roll back as he leans closer again to sniff at your hair. “It doesn’t matter who you are, doll.” The man whispers lowly.

The hold on your neck loosens the moment you drift into darkness.

Your body falls against his chest, and he smiles darkly. “I’m going to keep you. It gets lonely up here. I could use some company...”

Tags in reblog.

#winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #buckybarnesbingo2023 #bucky barnes #tw: choking #tw: dark winter soldier #angst #kinktober vs flufftober 2023 #The cabin in the woods - Kinktober 15

[theerurishipper]

Personally I think there isn’t enough meta about Adricat being a girl coded character and you should make one too

Okay, so when I say "female coded," I mean that Adrien's character fulfils the role that female characters usually have done in media. He's the love interest, he's the emotional support. He's sensitive and he's emotional. He's the heart of the team. Marinette on the other hand is a "male coded" character. She's a leader, she comes up with strategies and plans, and she is the brains of the operation. I used to think that was really cool, the way they subverted gender roles and allowed the characters to shine as characters instead of putting them in a box. Marinette was a strong and determined person, but she also had moments of weakness and vulnerability. Adrien seemed like the usual trope of the damsel in distress, but he was also literally Chat Noir, who often escaped his own situation and whose arc was about him breaking of his father himself.

But then they leaned too far into it, and it just became a gender swapped version of the same tired tropes that we've all seen. Marinette became The Leader™ who can do no wrong and doesn't need to do that emotional support shit for her partner when he needs it. Adrien lost any and all agency in his own story, and effectively just became the damsel in distress who had to sit there and look pretty as he waited for Marinette the knight to come and save him. I mean, you can't get more on the nose than this.

(And yeah, this is supposed to be the class' fanfiction and not representative of what the show was building up to, but this is literally what ended up happening.)

His choices became more and more irrelevant, and his feelings became more and more unimportant, until the entire Ladynoir dynamic became Marinette being The Leader™ who doesn't need to tell Chat Noir anything and doesn't owe him anything, and Chat Noir became the emotional support who is always attentive and considerate of Ladybug's needs to the point of invalidating his own. His feelings of sadness at being left out of the loop and being pushed away by Ladybug ultimately did not matter.

And then Season 5 spent its time setting up a rivalry between Marinette and Gabriel over what's best for Adrien. The fight wasn't Ladybug and Chat Noir against Monarch, but Marinette vs. Gabriel, and whoever won got to take Adrien home as a prize. Adrien's agency was diminished throughout Season 5 and annihilated entirely in the Season 5 finale, where he spends the confrontation with his father locked away in a white room while Marinette has to take the fight to Gabriel and confront him on Adrien's behalf. And he is sound asleep far away from the conflict while Marinette and Gabriel fight over what's best for Adrien instead of him, you know, deciding that himself.

I mean, the finale could not have been clearer about it.

At least he's there in the dream lmao

And the end of Recreation reveals that Marinette is lying to Adrien about his father so as to protect him. Because apparently Adrien won't be able to control his emotions and needs someone else to make his decisions for him. Because clearly, he would be too emotional and wouldn't be able to make his own informed choices. And it's quite common for women to be told that they are too emotional and so the big strong man should make the decisions for them. So the female coded character is treated like his emotions are a weakness and a burden and like he requires other people to make his choices for him.

And so, Marinette the knight defeats the evil Gabriel, saves the helpless Adrien from his evil father, and they kiss in the sunset, and all is well. Except Adrien isn't being allowed to make informed choices about his own life and everyone around him is denying his autonomy, but he only exists to be the trophy for whoever won in the Marinette-Gabriel rivalry (which Marinette only won because Gabriel forfeited anyway), so he doesn't get to make choices and have any of those inconvenient emotions like anger or sadness, and all really is well.

Thomas Astruc even mentioned on Twitter that Chat Blanc was the reason why Adrien could not participate in the finale. And the implication is that he couldn't be there because he would be too emotional and would destroy the world. So Marinette had to do it for him, and Adrien had to be removed from his own story and put away in London with nightmares so that he wouldn't get in the way with his emotions. So yeah. The female coded character was reduced into being a damsel in distress and was told his emotions rendered him incapable of making his own choices because he wouldn't be able to control them.

Anyway, that's my take on it. Here are some other posts that discuss this.

Thank you for your ask!

#MLB #ML Salt #ML Writing Salt #ML Writers Salt #Meta #My meta #Asks #Marinette Salt #Not really but just in case #Sexism in ML

[digenerate-trash]

I ADORE Avery and personally love the “trapped songbird” idea for him being a yandere!

He gets you a phone, but it’s controlled by him, he’s got a tracker on it, and everything. Sometimes he checks the tracker during work and just watches you scamper around school. He expects one good morning text and one good night text, and a call every day! If you forget he’s racing over to “check on you” and make sure you’re “okay”. Really he just fucks you in the back if his car, and tells you to not worry him like that!

He all but destroyés your entire wardrobe so HE can buy you those clothes! You’re only allowed to use things that he’s bought. Big weird provider complex, make up? He paid for. Bus pass? He got it for you. Soap? He’s got the best ones just for you! Probably pays some guys to rough you up so he can be your knight in shining armor and just “happens” to be passing by and saves you!

He probably starts paying Bailey to let you stay at Avery’s penthouse! He chains your leg to the bed, you can reach the bathroom, by yourself, but you need Avery to bring you to the kitchen or living room, where he just rechains you again. If you misbehave, he locks EVERYTHING! Including the bathroom! He watches you like a hawk, not even letting you use the toilet without him staring down his nose at you. Good luck gaining his trust back!

Obviously the parties are still a thing, but he never lets you out of his sight, his hand is on you at all times, pinching and squeezing if you misbehave. Probably starts getting interested in the more underground parties, and eventually Briar gets Avery to bring you on stage where Avery can fuck you for everyone to see him lay his claim.

dude the gold gilded cage is one of my favorite tropes and Avery fits it so well!!!

I know that you have already laid it out so well but I want to add to this so bad!!!

avery has a shock collar that secures it to your thigh before parties so it's a "hidden" security measure to keep you in line and make sure you don't tell anyone about your situation. If necessary he can also turn it up to dangerous levels if you decide to use this party as an escape. not that he takes his hands off you often.

Avery is always putting out subtle threats to you and he not only brings you to brairs to show you off but he has brair tell you about the underground brothel. Avery makes sure he goes into sickening detail. because if you are ungrateful for Avery's company he’ll threaten to send you to brair. (it's not like he really would be much too attached for that but the threat is vivid and worrying)

the more you misbehave the more nessessities he takes from you. first, it's clothes. he likes it when he gets the privilege of punishing you like this. it's like a fun game at this level. taking away your room privileges is still fun. he loves it when you have to beg for things. like moving from one room to the next just because you have to use the bathroom or shower or get food. you have to beg Avery for those things. when it gets to the point where Avery has to take away your food though he's not as excited. he doesn't want to punish you like this but you keep nothing off. or attacking him. he just needs to break you a bit. just give in. Any punishments further than that you're getting bones broken. and Harper is getting a hefty bribe to come to Avery's home and fix you up. Avery doesn't have a light hand and the bruises and breaks hurt for weeks. he always says sorry afterward and kisses your wounds. but you know if you resist him he's willing to break more of you.

He's paying Bailey almost double what Brair would for you and he keeps you at his home he even tells you how much you're worth he rubs your face in it. you have a price on you. a price that he can afford. and you should thank him every chance you get because if Avery didn't have you where would you be?

#ask #avery the businessperson #yan dol #yandere #tw yandere #yandere tropes #x reader #gn reader

[writers-ex]

rich mean girl chae who bullies shy nerd yn but then they get paired together on a project and chae fvcks yn when her parents aren't home

no bc i love the social class trope- everyday chae trips you and calls you name flipping your skirt and making fun of the panties you wear to the socks on your shoes, just when you think you have a chance to escape her the teacher pairs you two up for a project that is worth half your grade, not wanting to let your academic side suffer you hesitantly agree when she kindly invites you to spend the night at her place to work on the project to get it done so you can enjoy your weekend, coming over chae answers the door herself and asks you to wait in the living room while she gets some snacks, as you start working you find in her hand a pair of handcuffs and sly smirk as you shrink back against the couch, she commands you to strip and cuffs your hands together before silencing your phones, letting you know that its just the two of you alone in the house chaeryeong pushes you face first against the leather couch and fingers you roughly until you stain the black surface, she then (literally) drags you to the mirror in the hallway and degrades you while playing with your nipples until you squirt on the glass, all around the house chaeryeong has her fun with you leaving a trail of cum and sweat from her spanks to even toys lying around that she hid throughout the house, she continues until morning using your body as you go in and out of consciousness and once she's done she'll uncuff you and let you rest while she leaves you alone locked in the house to go out with friends only to return and do the same thing over but this time in front of a live audience😫

#i liked this too much for my own good- #smh #anon.txt #mean girl!chaeryeong #mean girl!itzy #nerd!reader #chaeryeong hard thoughts #chaeryeong hard hours #chaeryeong smut #chaeryeong #itzy smut #itzy hard thoughts #itzy hard hours

[otherworldseekers]

March of the Tropes prompt: Wound Tending

Skipping ahead to write a little scene in the new Enemies and Lovers au for a prompt. Slightly spicy, but cuts off before it gets very nsfw.

“Strip.”

The door of the little Inn room had barely closed behind her when the command filled the air, sending a shiver through her. Nero was sitting at a small table in the corner, his feet propped up on the table’s surface, his hands folded in his lap. He had the relaxed confidence of someone who is used to being obeyed and every fiber of her being yearned to obey him, but she resisted. It was all part of the game. 

Severia turned her back on him and took her time stowing away her weapons and assorted gear in another corner. Even so, she could feel his eyes on her, following her every move with that piercing gaze that always saw right through her. 

“You watched, I assume?” 

“Of course I watched,” Nero answered her. “It’s my job. And my pleasure.” 

“What did you think?” She went to stand before him now, but made no move to undo a single clasp or button. 

“Titan is certainly more impressive than Ifrit. There were a harrowing few moments where I thought he might knock you off that pillar.”

“I can’t say it wasn’t a close thing,” Severia admitted. 

“And yet you handled him with all the grace I’ve come to associate with you,” Nero said with a smug smile, as if her prowess were a matter of pride. “You do know you are making my work vastly more difficult.”

“Naturally,” she said with a sweet smile, making him huff in amusement. 

“Strip,” he issued the command again, a subtle growl in his voice that she couldn’t resist. 

Her hands went to the hem of her tunic and whisked it over her head, dropping it on the floor behind her. Nero locked eyes with her as boots, shorts and smallclothes joined the pile. Only when she stood bare before him did his gaze rove over her body. His brow furrowed and his lips curved downward. Severia looked down at herself and was taken aback by the numerous bruises and abrasions that scored her body. 

“On the bed,” Nero ordered. He stood from his chair at last fishing a small jar out of the pocket of his jacket before discarding the jacket on the table. “Lay down.”

“I’m fine. I’ve been healed,” Severia protested as she followed his instructions. 

“And these?” He pointed to the darkening splotches of red purple, the scrapes and mild burns. 

“Y’shola took care of anything serious.”

“Any wound can become serious if it’s not taken care of,” Nero argued reasonably as he unscrewed the lid of the jar and dipped his fingers in. “This Y’shtola is a very shoddy healer.” He withdrew two fingers covered in a reddish paste and proceeded to apply it to a bruise on her thigh. 

“What is it?”

“A healing salve I procured from a wandering Alchemist in the area,” Nero said with perfect nonchalance. “It should help rebalance the disrupted aether and speed your natural healing as well as reducing pain.”

Severia eyed him suspiciously. That… wasn’t how Alchemists operated. Had he… Had Nero gone out of his way to obtain this, knowing that she would be in poor condition after her battle? 

With meticulous patience he sought out every minor wound and rubbed the salve into her skin with such gentleness it made her blush. He’d never touched her like this before. He’d never cared for her before. Theirs wasn’t exactly that kind of relationship. She made a mental note not to get used to this. When he was done with her front he made her flip over onto her stomach, tsking when he saw the condition of her back. 

He missed not a single scored scale, and paid special attention to her horns and tail. She could have told him that these would simply grow over the damaged parts, but she couldn’t deny that it all felt wonderful. Pain had been an insistent hum in her mind that she had shoved to the background, but now that it was truly receding she felt her nerves relax. A contented sigh escaped her. 

“Better?” he said as her tail slid through his hands.

“Much. Thank you.” 

Nero’s hands slowly moved away from her injuries and began to explore, following the curves of her body. “You’re beautiful, Severia,” he murmured as his fingers splayed across her lower back. 

Her breath caught in her throat. She was turned away from him, and couldn’t see his face, but his voice was soft with the same gentleness his hands had shown. “Even battered and bruised?”

“Even so,” he said. “I’ve never seen such lovely bruises.”

Severia turned onto her side and huffed a laugh. “Now you’re teasing me.”

“Only a little,” Nero conceded and leaned in to kiss her. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. It felt like ages since he had last kissed her, even though it was only days. When she released him she asked, “When are you going to take your clothes off?”

He chuckled. “Right now.”

“Finally.”

#Severia x Nero #WoL/Nero #Severia Zetsuen #Nero tol Scaeva #my writing #Enemies and Lovers au #MarchoftheTropes #ffxiv fanfiction #spicy content #I've Got You Under My Skin