Tumgik
#broken foot bad times
angelnumber27 · 19 days
Text
last night (this morning technically it was like 5 am) sprained my ankle BADLY by misstepping at the most painful angle on the (ofc) very top step then immediately proceeded to uncontrollably tumble down a whole flight of stairs, landing on the linoleum kitchen floor. #slay 💃🏻💯
11 notes · View notes
jazzzzzzhands · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Doing practice sketches until the art block goes away, Day 2
I wasn't sure about teeth at first but man oh man, I think I really like Barn with teeth! How else is he supposed to have a shit-eating grin?
21 notes · View notes
lightdancer1 · 12 days
Text
See the further irony is:
That in using 'Mall Goth Sauron' as the take on Dark Willow over 'misogynist has character randomly killed for LULZ' it also allows for greater accountability on the one hand and for Season 7 to thematically focus on repairing all this damage in the midst of facing an enemy of shadows reliant on lies to further itself. The only way to break the Druj is the absolute Truth in a very Zoroastrian sense. Characters don't get to neatly skip past accountability for their actions, and this would spiral over into further later seasons with the essential reality that in an otherwise lower-level setting this one random girl from California is a Dark Phoenix-tier reality warper and the most powerful person on the planet, or the universe.
And the questions of how that power could and should be employed on the one hand and that Willow is essentially a Doctor Strange type who beats up Gods and Eldritch Abominations for her regular line of work where her counterparts deal with the more 'street level' crises would in turn be the logical conclusion of where the show ends. She doesn't do as much physical fighting for the same reason that Stephen Strange never uses magic to go punch the Hulk in the face, her narrative role is ultimately that of Sorceress Supreme of Earth, with literally nobody in an ancient established war anticipating that this one random ginger from California was and is the new Sorceress Supreme and that if they had had such awareness the realities are that this power would and could have taken worse forms.
Unfortunately for the world, the reality too is that it is a shy computer geek who has a not at all subtle dark side and the usual teenage anxieties and insecurities given the equivalent of being able to reliably actually do things other people might dream of but can never do.
But again as long as Dawn Summers being a good thing is a narrative convention that's established memory magic is a poor choice to show the corrupting effects of reality-warping. It's a case of 'yes as established in canon all of this is true for that one season but then they decided to retcon it, so the fans are not obligated to care about it any more than the canon does about this itself.'
#willow rosenberg#tara maclay#dawn summers#you will never convince me as long as Dawn Summers is a plot device that 'memory magic unforgivable' is anything but bad writing#it was the choice used but there are other equally toxic things that could have been done instead#the basic theme of 'very powerful person decides things for another in an abusive fashion' works just as well without it#Tara's growth arc in refusing to tolerate abuse even from the person who brought her out of her shell can stand perfectly fine#it works even better with a budding Sauron than abruptly deciding 'wholesale memory rewrites good retail unforgivable.'#killing Tara off also denies her any sense of closure or ability to get that closure with the person who does this#the entire element here with the way things went down is bad writing from Point A to point Z#and it's also easily forgotten but Tara wasn't in fact intended to be Willow's love interest#she was replacement Willow for sympathy points#her entire arc as such became Willow X Tara but it was a choice from actor chemistry#So in giving Tara a role besides 'Willow's Girlfriend' it arguably does better by her character#tara x willow#btvs#and yes yes the 'scale changes things' argument is true but only to a point#it's really no different to introduce Dawn than what Willow did#if the retail is wrong so is the wholesale and the decisions to make this that point of no return is an avoidable mistake#plus honestly imagine a Season 7 Tara going 'sweetie no' and a Season 7 Willow dealing with those consequences in real time#equally one can have Tara's cold turkey approach stick exactly as it was#and serve as her role in the time bomb because she's a product of an abusive family and not an infallible moral guide#she rightly sees the problem and at least tries to address it when nobody else did#but unfortunately her solution was pouring gasoline on the fire and then vacating the range where the fire would burn#still further between that and Willow being human enough to resent being told to take that pain and do it going it alone#there'd be plenty of reasons for a surviving Tara and Willow to spend season 7 broken up as is#Tara would not at all be wrong to be wary and not want to touch reformed Sauron with a 400 foot pole#Willow equally would resent someone whose bad advice helped create the problem and who evades any recognition thereof#good old fashioned drama with entirely human motives
3 notes · View notes
inamindfarfaraway · 1 year
Text
Perhaps the funniest League of Legends character interaction that's also highly plausible in-universe, thematically appropriate and emotionally charged is Rell and Veigar teaming up.
They’re both extremely magically strong and skilled. Rell controls metal, a product of the earth from which she can directly rip ore. Veigar draws his celestial magic from the stars.
They both have dark, tragic backstories: because of their magical talent, they were taken into custody by powerful, corrupt Noxian authorities, isolated, abused and forced to use their magic harmfully for a long time, at least relative to their respective lives. This traumatized and broke them so much that they now see inflicting pain as the only thing they’re good at, even capable of. They have no friends. They've never known or have forgotten what it feels like to be loved, joyful or carefree. All they were left with once free was so much guilt and grief and so much power. From that, they have forged new identities - roles to play - built around singular, combative ambitions that they cannot imagine lives or futures beyond. Rell identifies as a gritty, edgy antihero, having noble intentions but using brutal, destructive and downright gruesome methods. Veigar identifies as a villain, but is good at heart despite not comprehending this himself.
They’re both currently roaming around the Noxian countryside in order to find and defeat as many powerful, corrupt Noxian authorities who mistreat people as they can. Rell does this to make the guilty pay for their crimes and liberate and protect the oppressed. Veigar does it to replace the authority and prove that his evil is greater and cooler than theirs, but in practice doesn’t really bother hurting anyone innocent and just ends up making the guilty pay for their crimes and liberating and protecting the oppressed.
They’re both connected to Mordekaiser, and would be primary enemies of him holding personal grudges if his plot about trying to dominate Runeterra is ever developed. Rell was such an important project for the Black Rose because they hoped that she would be able to defeat Mordekaiser. He embodies everything she stands against. Mordekaiser was Veigar’s captor and abuser, responsible for who he is today. Rell can manipulate metal; Veigar wields incredible cosmic magic; and Mordekaiser is a magical suit of armour, so if anyone can finish him off, it’s these two working together.
Rell is practical, pragmatic, cynical and consumed by bloodthirsty, vengeful rage. Veigar clings to and imitates an immature ideal of Villainy, fashioning his outfit after Mordekaiser’s stereotypical fantasy evil overlord aesthetic, his behaviour after all the most theatrical tropes that archetype can be associated with and having very dramatic and flashy magic, but inwardly lacks the cruelty (not to mention dignity) to back that presentation up.
They both want the Noxian people to respect them as a threat. Rell has wanted posters and become widely feared by the elite army less than a year since her escape. Veigar has been ‘conquering’ for centuries and is still not taken seriously.
Their respective magic colours are yellow and purple, and the rest of both of their colour palettes is grey, silver and black.
Everything about Rell is played completely straight. Almost everything about Veigar is played for comedy.
Rell could come across a village that Veigar has seized and accidentally benefitted, like Boleham in his story on the website, and try to challenge him. Or they could both arrive to kill the same tyrannical warlord at the same time. She realizes that he is a) really bad at being bad, b) just a silly little guy and c) an extremely useful asset to her quest.
So she directs him at the Black Rose and they go and utterly fuck Noxis up while helping the downtrodden. There's so much comedy to get out of their contrasting personalities and perspectives. Rell always acts like the protagonist of a grim, action-packed young adult dystopian series and Veigar is standing right next to her emanating campy children's cartoon villain energy; they both think the story is a different genre and the acting and tone should reflect that. This premise is hysterical with the proper execution.
But it isn't just funny! They can genuinely bond and learn, or in Veigar's case remember, what loving and being loved is, and begin to process their trauma and help each other cope with their C-PTSD and be kinder to themselves and have fun and become fulfilled. And then kill Mordekaiser, whose return is one of the subplots. And then live happy, safe, peaceful lives together, because they were never meant for all this violence.
Other subplots besides Mordekaiser include LeBlanc, Rell's mother and the Black Rose's operations; the wider Noxian politics they tie into; Samirah hunting Rell; Annie also wandering around Noxis causing trouble and eventually getting adopted by Rell as a little sister (they deserve it); maybe the story of a Yordle who knew Veigar before and thus can supply some of his backstory that he's forgotten, a 'normal Yordle' foil to him; and generally lots of Noxian and Yordle worldbuilding and lore.
While I'm talking about Veigar, here are my ideas for a redesign of him, because his design is... not that great:
As yordles are generally animalistic or at least furry, he strongly resembles a black cat, with gold eyes with slit pupils and a dark purple nose. Black cats are associated with the supernatural, magical arts and misfortune, they're bad omens to some, but they're also fluffy little babies. He is covered in fur. You want to scratch his checks. You want to kiss his little forehead. He's so adorable and he hates it. His large pointy ears, visible under the brim of his hat, move to signal his emotions for more expressive animation. They both have notches, which help him look pitiable and allude to his past as a prisoner and victim of abuse. He has big 'weathered street cat hissing and growling at you when you try to pet it because it's reflexively afraid of people and shows that through aggression' energy.
@ohnoitstbskyen's idea in his "What's the deal with Veigar?" video that Veigar's face (his cute kitty face!) is never fully in the shadow of his hat despite him trying to look mysterious and ominous is brilliant. He’s very lively, since he acts like a classic cartoon villain who’s so excited and gleeful about being evil, so he has a habit of jostling his hat or lifting his head to reveal his whole face and then hastily pulling the hat back down.
His robe no longer has the spiked metal hem and is of a soft, loose, flowing fabric. It’s dark indigo with silver sparkles all over it like he’s wearing the night sky, in homage to the stars he draws his power from. Except the beautiful pattern is interrupted and partly obscured by a leather belt - not spiked and black, a bolder and more ‘evil’ colour than brown and a Noxian colour - with a tasteless spiky silver buckle that clashes with the stars. I love what TB Skyen said about the armour and spikes working best as a parody of Mordekaiser’s aesthetic, so I want those aspects to look tacked on and out of place. To feel wrong. Inadvertently on Veigar’s part, but deliberately in a meta sense. Between the robe, his big purple wizard hat matching his nose that also makes his body look smaller and cuter and the black cat associations, you’ve got a perfectly good yordle celestial mage design; but the influence of Mordekaiser is intruding on it, corrupting it, even. That is the clear conflict of this design. While the robe is comfortable, the armour doesn’t appear to be. This impression is helped by it all being at least a little oversized, because Noxian armour doesn’t come in yordle size and therefore Veigar has cobbled his together out of scraps he scavenged (I mean, he STOLE, how wicked) and he isn’t really a great blacksmith. His boots aren’t clown shoes or anything, but they’re big enough that his attempt at an imposing villainous stride is awkwardly clunky. They could have black leather straps on them to hold them tighter than their metal fasteners will allow. His spiked pauldrons were cut out of human ones and still jut out too much, one of them having an irregular shape that gives him a dash of Noxian asymmetry and marks him further as a flawed imitation of a fantasy supervillain. The message that he’s incompetent at something and did it anyway out of passion, perhaps not even realizing his mistakes or at least too proud to acknowledge them, makes him come across as comedic and yet an endearingly earnest, hardworking underdog, and adds to the surprise of his genuine incredible cosmic power - he couldn’t learn to smith properly before forging his own armour, but he can command the energy of the stars to smite you? Yeah. That’s Veigar. There’s one silver ring around the base of his hat that has five spikes on it, thick, long and evenly positioned so that from above, they form a star shape. Specifically, an inverted star with one spike pointing directly forward. Symbolism! His belt buckle could also be an inverted star to establish that as a motif of his; it’s spiky, but more personal and iconic than just spikes themselves.
Moving onto Rell... she has her sigils. I don't know why she doesn't in her model or artwork, they're such a crucial part of her character design! Her biography and short story both bring them up. There are even bare sections of her arms, which would only make sense if her sigils were visible in them because it's impractical and she's so averse to vulnerability, but the sigils are missing? What? Why, Riot? So yeah, in my redesign she has sigils right down both her arms. A few more recent ones are on her back (symbolic of her betrayal by her family, the Black Rose and the government). They're always hidden, even in her lighter armour on horseback, as she's deeply uncomfortable around the concept of being exposed and seeing them herself. We and Veigar only see them in dramatic character exploration scenes when a) she feels safe enough to take her armour off, b) she needs to due to injury or to hide her identity or c) someone else damages or removes her armour. Taking TB Skyen's advice again, her outer armour and therefore horse are spikier and less polished and regular, products of her undiluted heartbroken rage in the moment she destroyed the academy. They're highly distinctive, almost organic-feeling and definitely don't look like the work of a smith.
#i NEED this dynamic do you understand me?#almost everyone recognizes rell on sight or when she uses her magic and reacts with fear and awe#and veigar always gets something like *blank stare* '...who are you?'#'oh god it's the iron maiden! and... a little furry magician?'#'wow rell you got a pet?'#and he goes ballistic and whines and stamps his little foot#he insists that he has the title 'veigar the terrible' even though nobody ever calls him that except to humour him#rell even says it to cheer him up once they have a solid rapport#after seeing veigar evolve from bad at being bad to good at being good she eventually asks#'why do you think you're evil? because evil is about hurting people who don't deserve it and you only seem to hurt people who do'#and he gets all broody - not in a funny way this time legitimately serious - and says in a truly broken haunted voice#'you know nothing of my deeds. i have done Terrible things and so i will always be veigar the terrible'#referring to what mordekaiser made him do during his imprisonment#and instead of sounding silly like every time before it's like 'oh. oh. he Hates Himself'#and rell says thinking of her fights with other kids that led to them being nullified#'yeah but i was made to do some terrible things too and that doesn't make me rell the terrible... does it?'#and her voice cracks and her eyes well up and she's sixteen#and suddenly the wacky buddy vigilante sitcom adventure is two survivors of abuse believing themselves to be unlovable#do you see my vision? DO YOU SEE IT?#title idea is 'terrors of noxis'#rell#lol rell#veigar#lol veigar#noxis#league of legends#legends of runeterra#runeterra
17 notes · View notes
trans-xianxian · 1 year
Text
hmmmm I drafted an email to my boss abt how her text regarding my time off request after my mother's death made me feel very uncomfortable and how I felt like it was unprofessional should I send it
#obviously I did not go to sleep after that reblog kshdmudksb#anyway I want to but also like I work closely w her every day and I don't want to eternally feel uncomfortable because I confronted her#but at the same time like her text made me feel bad enough that it completely altered how I feel about my job#like I was going to come back next year and for summer camp but how she handled the whole thing just made me feel Bad#and like if in the future something else happens where I need extended time off she will be equally as not understanding#idk it just put a rlly bad taste in my mouth that she tried to make my co workers work life my responsibility during my time off#I feel like thats something she needs to be confronted about#but like. what outcome will that have other than making it uncomfortable to be around her for the foreseeable future#idk and also like. everyone else in my life including co workers has been so understanding and kind and compassionate#but even her My Condolences tm text was kind of cold and rude#and its like. okay maybe I'll calm down about this once I'm not In The Throws Of Grief but at the same time#I am in a very emotionally vulnerable place and someone intentionally took advantage of that to make me feel bad#thats kind of a big deal?#idk its just weird. she'd been so understanding until I actually needed something from her#I'd also sort of been getting the impression that she was growing tired of the whole broken foot thing#but I was hoping that that was just me projecting cuz I feel bad about not being helpful#now I am nawt so sure...#anyway this really sucks I really loved my work environment and then it was ruined with one (1) text#ghost posts#text
7 notes · View notes
egginfroggin · 9 months
Text
I feel bad for the Elite Four in the Broken AU variant of WTST (initial post here).
First they get to deal with this weird guy with knives for sideburns and who anyone can see from a mile away is Not Okay.
They lose.
Weird Guy becomes Champion. Is basically a ghost around the League, and nobody can corner him and get him to open up and accept help in any way.
Deal with this weird guy for two years.
Walk in one morning, the Champion is giving off major Piano String Tightened Too Much vibes and refuses to elaborate, insists that he's fine, goes off to do whatever it is he does in his room that requires so much paper.
Couple months go by. It's never resolved. Kind of becomes the new norm.
New challenger!
It's another funky bean pole with knife sideburns!
Cue immediate flashbacks to the day that the Champion treated them all to the Pokemon battle equivalent of a murder.
Become really anxious.
Oh and this one is smiling.
It is all teeth and no mirth.

Anyway, they lose. Again.

They later learn that that was Emmet, Champion Ingo's twin brother, who -- according to Elesa -- disappeared three years ago, wrangled Palkia and Dialga into Pokeballs in ancient Sinnoh, gave Cynthia's ancestor the beatdown of his life, stuffed Giratina into a ball, then went and pelted Arceus with Snickers Balms (you're not you when you're hungry) before stuffing IT into a ball and demanding that it send him home.
He's a little blunt, but he's a very nice person to know, really!
He isn't sorry for siccing his freaking massive Garchomp on your team with no qualms about whatever destruction may follow, though. He was in a bit of a mood. Trying to get to his brother. Family matters, you know how it is.
Yeah.
Anyway Ingo was concerning because he was on a downward spiral, Emmet is concerning because apparently he's yelled -- mutely, somehow, maybe aggressively signed or something -- at Legendaries and had his demands met by them and that is simply not a normal thing that happens to people.
But it's okay now, he has no interest in being Champion, Ingo's been hauled away to therapy and isn't coming back for the title, Alder can return, if he wants, Ingo and Emmet just want to work with trains and relax now.


A couple of years go by.
Guess who's starting a Battle Facility based around Unova's subway system?
6 notes · View notes
gingerbreadmonsters · 2 years
Text
one more audition let's fucking GO
8 notes · View notes
lilgynt · 1 year
Text
evolution of how men and i interacted at my different jobs so far
doing exact same work and being physically stronger than some of the men > men start lifting things for me and shooing me away when i try > guy held open a door for me and after i said thanks he said i’m just happy to be ur knight in shining armor today
1 note · View note
Text
Tumblr media
its just a giant sawblade but like blue..?
1 note · View note
incognit0slut · 1 month
Note
hi! what about this: some time after spencer comes home from prison, he finds some toys reader had bought for herself since he'd been in prison for so long. he tells reader that if she was needy enough to do anything without him, she can do it again, without him. he orders her to show him what she was doing when he was gone. you can definitely include edging and/or overstimulation as well as degradation, of course if you're comfortable with that <3 also, if it's not a problem, since it would be a sub/dom dynamic there could be aftercare included, but it depends on what you feel like writing.
anyway, thank you and i hope you're having a great day 🌺
(18+) Dom Spence x fem reader. 1.3k. Sex toy. Squirting.
Spencer forces you to give him a show when he discovers your secret.
-
Spencer wasn't trying to be evil, he really wasn't, but there was a twisted satisfaction witnessing your vulnerability. Maybe it was the sense of power over you, or perhaps you were simply captivating, but whatever the reason, he found himself drawn to the sight of you lying in bed, legs spread apart.
He watched intently as the toy disappeared into your cunt, moving in and out, each thrust met with the tight clenching of your walls. He never imagined he'd witness you finding satisfaction with anything other than him, yet, if he were honest with himself, the sight aroused him more than it angered him.
You had been going at it for a while now—no, he forced you to do it. Though "force" might not be the right choice of word, because as embarrassed as you were by his discovery of the toy you forgot even existed, the pleasure clouded your mind, and you found yourself enjoying giving him a show far too much to stop.
“Is this what you’ve been up to while I’ve been gone?” Spencer taunted, leaning back in the chair positioned at the foot of the bed.
Your response caught in your throat as your climax edged closer. With a sense of urgency, you increased the speed of your hand, plunging the toy in and out of your dripping cunt with increasing desperation, the echoes of your arousal filling the room.
“Answer me,” he urged. “Keep your eyes on me and answer the question.”
With a shiver running down your spine, you forced yourself to meet his intense gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his scrutiny.
“I… I needed…” you stammered, struggling to form coherent words amidst the rising tide of sensation.
“Needed what?” he pressed.
You swallowed hard. “I needed… to feel something,” you admitted. “I needed… release.”
“And you couldn’t wait for me?”
“I… I’m… sorry,” you confessed, each word punctuated by a gasp as the toy drove you closer to the edge. “I couldn’t… without… you…”
The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the toy. Then, his voice cut through the air. “Do you need me now?”
You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his piercing eyes. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice raw with longing. “I-I need you.”
His lips curved into a knowing smile, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners. “Hmm,” he hummed, his voice low and teasing. “That’s too bad because I’m quite enjoying the view.”
You squirmed under his gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable yet undeniably aroused by his control.
“Please,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. “I can’t… I can’t take it anymore. I-I need you.”
A flicker of something akin to sympathy crossed his features, but it was quickly replaced by a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, I know you do,” he replied. “But where’s the fun in giving you what you want so easily?”
You bit your lip, torn between frustration and arousal. “Please,” you pleaded again, your voice barely a whisper, “Don’t tease me like this.”
His smirk widened, clearly enjoying the power he held over you. “You’ll have to beg a little harder than that,” he whispered. “Show me how much you need me.”
Your heart raced at his words, the intensity of his gaze igniting a fiery need within you. Without hesitation, you spread your legs further apart, the movement allowing him an unobstructed view of the way your cunt clenched around the toy, your arousal evident in the slickness coating it.
A satisfied groan escaped his lips at the sight, his hand instinctively finding its way to his strained arousal beneath his pants. “I’ll tell you what,” he muttered, gripping himself. “Make yourself come and I’ll give you what you want.”
A whine broke put of you. “I…”
“If you were needy enough to satisfy yourself without me, you can do it again now.”
Your heart was beating fast against your chest, yet you found yourself nodding.
“Three times,” he continued. “Give me three orgasms.”
Your breath hitched at his words. “Three?” You squeaked.
“Three,” he affirmed, his voice low and commanding.
You swallowed hard, feeling a surge of anticipation mingled with apprehension. The thought of achieving such intense pleasure under his watchful gaze both thrilled and intimidated you. But the promise of his reward spurred you on, driving you to arch your back and chase after your first orgasm.
It came fast and fierce, crashing over you with an intensity that left you breathless. Your toes curled in ecstasy, and a blush spread across your cheeks as you surrendered to the waves of pleasure, knowing that he was watching your every move.
“You’re doing so well,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “Give me another.”
Your eyes fluttered open again, and you whimpered, determined not to give yourself a break. The faster you obliged, the quicker he would fuck you. So you pushed yourself even further, ignoring the burning sensation as the toy thrusts in and out of you relentlessly.
And then, as it hit that very deep spot inside you, your legs began to shake, spreading even wider in response to the overwhelming sensation. The pleasure surged through you like a tidal wave, from your head down to your toes, and his name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper.
He grunted as he rubbed himself through his pants. “One more, sweetheart, you can take it, just one more.”
You gasped, still reeling from the intensity of the previous climax. “I… I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” he insisted. “I know you can.”
Despite the lingering waves of pleasure still washing over you, you steeled yourself for one final effort. Gritting your teeth, you resumed the frantic pace, driving the toy deep inside you.
The sensations intensified, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breath grew ragged, your heart pounding in your chest as you neared the edge once again.
As the pleasure built within you, there was a sudden, unfamiliar intensity to the sensation. It coiled in your stomach, sending a surge of urgency coursing through your veins. You whimpered softly, a mix of desire and apprehension knotting in your stomach.
You knew what was coming, and so did he, because his grip on his cock tightened, a hunger burning in his eyes. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Give it to me, baby. Just let it out.”
Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t hold back any longer. With a gasp, you finally surrendered, feeling a rush of fluid escaping your body as you reached your high. The force of the liquid pushed the toy out of you, and you gasped, your body arching involuntarily in response to the overwhelming sensation. Your back arched, your head thrown back, and your eyes closed, letting the intense pleasure consume you entirely.
Every nerve ending seemed to tingle with ecstasy as the wave of release washed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. With a shuddering breath, you collapsed onto the bed, spent and satisfied, your body buzzing with the aftershocks of your climax.
In the haze of post-orgasmic bliss, you felt his presence beside you, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. You steadied your breathing as he pulled you closer, his lips pressing gentle kisses against your sweaty face.
“See?” he murmured, his voice filled with pride. “I knew you could do it.”
With a contented sigh, you nuzzled closer to him, reveling in his warmth. “Will you fuck me now?”
He laughed, the sound rich and full of affection. “Maybe we should wait for a while, let you calm down.”
You pulled back and gave him a look. “Spencer.”
With a playful smirk, he leaned in to pepper soft kisses along your jawline, trailing down to your neck. The warmth of his lips against your skin sent shivers of anticipation through your body.
And then he slipped off his clothes, and when he finally settled between your legs, pushing his throbbing cock into your dripping walls, you cling onto him desperately. Because nothing could compare to the pleasure he brought you, leaving you feeling whole and complete in a way that no toy ever could.
1K notes · View notes
c0llisiion · 1 month
Text
SIN FOR ME — J.JK
Tumblr media
Pairing : jeon jungkook + f!reader
Genre : smut
★: request, npr , cnc , older!jk , boyfriendsdad!jk , cheating, pwp , named!bf , misunderstandings , slight manipulation, unprotected sex at the beginning, protected sex later on , bigdick!jk , coming on body , cum eating , dirty talk , name calling/nicknames, slight angst — lmk if i missed any!
W/C: 2,919
A/N: thank you to pookie for requesting this!! I had a hard time with the plot 😭✋ but i had fun! Thank you sm for requesting! And also sorry 4 going m.i.a i have js been so off 👎👎🤧🤧🥺🥺 anyways enjoy!!
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
Tumblr media
[edited ver.]
Another day came to an end. A bad end. You were cuddled up with your boyfriend, watching whatever popped up first on your recommended shows. You were hoping to get some action tonight, as it’s been a while since you guys had sex. 2 months, to be exact. You were frustrated, of course. He hasn’t touched you or done anything to you for two months. That's the longest you have gone without sex. You tried so hard to push away the negative thoughts. Convincing yourself that he was just busy and tired and definitely not fucking some other bitch. 
 His parents wouldn’t be coming back home for a couple of hours since his dad is always busy and barely comes home, and his mom is most probably out with another broad. So You tried getting him in the mood. Wearing just a tee and some ck thongs. Rubbing against him. Kissing his neck. But nothing seemed to work. He kept pushing you away. ‘Not now.’ ‘Im not in the mood’ ‘im too tired, not today.’ were just coming out of his mouth like a broken record. But you still didn’t give up! You were determined, but before that- “im gonna go sleep.” You looked up at him, confused. “What?” “Im tired, alright? Im gonna go to bed; you can continue watching your stupid show by yourself.” There was venom laced in his words. It hurt you. Your heart sank. He pushed you away before walking up the stairs. You were trying to hold back your tears. How could he do this to you? You scoff. “Seriously? You’re really not even going to ask me to join you?” Your boyfriend turned around and stared at you blankly. “No. I want some peace and space. Do whatever the hell you want.” And with that, he walked away. You could hear his loud footsteps descend before a loud slam took over. 
You huff and try not to cry. It was too overwhelming for you, and you couldn’t help but think about the possibility that he was probably seeing someone else, or else why would he act like this? The waterworks started pouring slowly as you thought about the memories you made with him. Your soft sobs echoed throughout the empty, dark, and cold living space. 
 ————————————————————————
He was mad. So mad. Finding out that his company just fell into a major controversy after all he worked for was not the cherry on top. Jungkook hastily unlocked his house’s door. It was unusually dark. The only light illuminating the space was the soft kitchen light, which his dumbass son forgot to turn off. He dropped his case and trenchcoat by the door before kicking off his shoes and walked further into his home. He noticed a small figure face-down on the couch, sleeping. 
You were sleeping on your stomach, your head tucked in your forearm, and your hair covered your face. Your shirt was slightly rolled up, and your ass was on full display. Jungkook walked over and took a good look at your body. He needed something to pour his anger into, and so, assuming that it was his wife, he loosened his tie and sat where your foot rested. His hand went up your thighs before resting on your plump ass, cold fingers fondling with the soft flesh. He grabbed a handful before giving your ass a soft slap. He shuffled to hover over you. His hand cupped your pussy. Palm pushing into the wet hole, dampening your underwear. “…Gonna fuck you, okay, pretty? Just stay still f’ me..” His voice was low and deep. He was still under the impression that it was his wife. Jungkook’s fingers hooked around your underwear before pulling it to the side, exposing your bare cunt. He couldn’t see much, but he noticed how his ‘wife’s’ pussy was glistening in the dark. He circled your entrance with slow movements. Your cunny was getting wet at a quick rate. He swallowed thickly at the soft, warm feeling. Without wasting much time, he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants along with his boxers.
Jungkook was rock hard. His tip glowed a deep red, and pre-cum was already dripping down his slit. Using his strong hands, he gently shifted your position so your ass was up in the air. He placed a couch pillow under your abdomen so you could lay comfortably. He hunched over your small frame, his hand gliding his aching tip over your glossy slit. He breathed heavily. It felt too good. Jungkook slowly started pushing himself in. He was struggling. It was easy to slip inside his wife, but this time? It seemed different. But familiar. Still, he continued moving forward. Maybe some miracle had happened to his wife. Who knows. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched your puffy lips swallow his hard length. You were still in deep sleep. The long crying session took a toll on your energy, so you were not really aware of what was happening to your body. Jungkook's breath gets caught in his throat as he finally stuffs you full. Your pussy clenching around his length unknowingly. 
Jungkook started moving. Rolling his hips gently. He threw his head back at how your sweet cunny felt around his length.  It was hard to believe that it was his wife. You felt warmer. Softer. And, of course, much tighter. Nothing compared to his wife. His eyes were squeezed shut, and short, heavy breaths left his lips as you continued taking him in. His hands grasped your plush hips, gripping the flesh tightly.
“Mmf-“ you let out a soft whine. Jungkook's tight grasp was enough to give you a bit of consciousness. Soft gasps escaped your lips at every thrust. Your stomach felt weird, and your body was getting hot. You were starting to sweat. “Junwoo… feels good…” you mumbled in your sleep. You felt something penetrating your sopping walls and immediately thought that it was your boyfriend. Maybe he felt bad and decided to finally give in.
Jungkook's heart dropped. No way. There's no way. His eyes went wide when you mumbled his son’s name. With shaky hands, Jungkook leaned forward and pushed the hair off of your face. Shock and terror spread all over his body. He stared down at you. His hand is still resting on your cheek. You were mumbling incoherently. You nudged your face into his palm. “Keep..going.. please.” You murmured. Jungkook gulped. He didn’t know what to do. He was fucking his son’s girlfriend! His thumb brushed the side of your cheek. He felt bad for you. He knew about the fact that his idiot son had been cheating on you for the past 3 months. How could he cheat on such a precious piece? He had to treat you right, even if it was wrong.
You were writhing and squirming under his huge build. Consciousness was starting to hit you. Your body felt hot and uneasy. The feeling was something you had never felt before. It was so much better than what junwoo was giving you. It was suspicious. You slowly lifted your head up, wanting to turn around and see ‘your boyfriend’. Jungkook immediately stopped and pulled out. He was still rock hard, and his dick hit his abdomen with a loud -thump-. He gulped heavily. You tuck your hair behind your ears and glance at the man who was fucking into you senseless. 
“What the fuck!!!!!” You immediately pushed yourself away from him. Cramming yourself in the corner of his Fendi Casa sofa, your thighs shut together. Your eyes first landed on his twitching cock. Oh, it was big. Bigger than his son’s. It was leaking too, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself getting wetter. It was so wrong. So, so wrong. You immediately come out of a trance and look at the man in front of you. His shirt was open, revealing his built body. “I c-can explain-“Jungkook stuttered. “What the fuck mr.jeon???????? How could you just do that to me???” Jungkook's hands were up in defense. “It’s not what you think, y/n. I was mistaken too.” “Mistaken???? You just raw-dogged me???. You are fucking your son’s girlfriend!!!” Jungkook swallowed hard before looking at you with his dark eyes. “Like it’s not the first time i touched you. Be for real right now, y/n” he rolled his eyes at your reaction. “Yeah! Touched. You have only TOUCHED, me. Its a big difference mr.jeon!” It was true that you both fooled around here and there but that was before you started dating junwoo. And everything ended after you confirmed your relationship with his son who was once your bestfriend.
He was hard af and you felt too good to stop. So there had to be some way to get you convinced. It was about time he told you about his son’s double life. “Look. There’s something you should know. Your boyfriend or my son has been cheating on you.” He did not want to beat around the bush and just dropped the bomb. Your heart shattered, and you felt lightheaded. Your eyes went wide at Jungkook’s claims. You were too stunned to speak and just stared at him. It seemed like it had worked, which prompted him to slowly hover over you, pushing you down softly. “And I know about the fact that my whore of a wife has been cheating on me every day." He looked down and watched as his calloused fingers ran up the soft rolls of your abdomen before making eye contact with you again. “You need this, y/n.. we both need this…” the last 4 words came out in a hush. His words were so sinister, and he had a shit-eating grin on his face as he watched you process the information. You trembled under his frame. Oh, you definitely needed it. You shook your head before grabbing Jungkook's loose collar and pulling him into a heated kiss. If your now ex boyfriend cheated on you? Might as well start fucking his dad again for revenge.
Jungkook giggled into the kiss and kissed you back. His hand found the back of your head before tightly gripping your soft hair. You whined into his mouth as it started to hurt. Jungkook kissed you further. His tongue tasting the insides of your mouth. He ripped your underwear, making you gasp and whine. “I will get you new ones, pretty, dw” he mumbled into the kiss with a smirk. His dick was rubbing against your bare pussy, making you leak. His hips moved incoherently. He loved the feeling of your wet pussy lip’s coating his length. Jungkook started aligning himself with your entrance, but before he could shove it in, you stopped him. You broke off the intense kiss. A string of saliva connected your lips to his. Jung Kook looked at you in concern. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You gulped before speaking up. “Protection… mr.Jeon.” You avoided eye contact with him as he narrowed his eyes at you. He let out a soft chortle before reaching down and taking his wallet from his discarded pants.
He pulled out a condom from one of the sleeves before chucking the wallet away. He was sitting on his heels and looked at you with a smirk. “Put it on for me, darling..” You nodded shyly as you sat up a bit and took the condom from his hands. You slowly ripped the blue plastic wrapping and pulled it out, all while innocently staring up at him. Your shaky hands gripped the base of his cock, giving it a slight squeeze before focusing on pushing the rubber down his huge dick. Jung Kook watched you with pure lust in his eyes. His hand went to the back of your head before forcefully making you look at him, causing you to whimper at the sudden action. “I didn’t know you were such a good girl, y/n..” He gave you a reassuring smile before pulling you to him. Your legs rested on his thighs, and his cock rested on your stomach. The length sat comfortably on your plush tummy. “Gonna take me all, baby? Can you do that for me?” You nodded vigorously before slowly moving your hips on his cock for some stimulation. He chuckled at your reaction and hissed as he entered you slowly. now savoring each and every inch of your sweet pussy. You whimpered as you finally felt how big he was. It still hurt, even though he had already dicked you down. 
You stared at Jungkook's face, your eyebrows knit together and eyes swelling up with tears, your lips bitten down hard as you watched Jungkook's face contort in pleasure. Sweat dripped down his body, and soft grunts left his mouth as he inched inside you more. His eyes quickly glanced at yours, and he internally fumbled at your expression. Knowing that he was fucking you was making this experience even better. 
With a quick thrust, he was fully into you. His tip kissing your spongy spot. Your breath was unsteady and faltering as he had you filled to the brim. His fingers were hooked under your chin and you lifted your face slightly so you could meet his gaze. “Can i?” He asked you gently with a reassuring smile. You nodded at his words before grabbing onto his shoulders for stability. Jungkook's hands held onto your waist, keeping you in place. His hips started moving. Each thrust made him grunt loudly. His pace increased as it got easier to move inside you. Your gummy walls were spasming around his length, and he could feel your warmth. Your both eyes were fixated on the way his dick went in and out of you. His cock would form a small bulge in your lower abdomen every time he pushed into you. “You see that baby? You’re taking me in so well… fuck-“ he was cut off as your pussy clenched. You let out a whine at his words “s-sir.. faster p-please..” 
That was all Jungkook needed to hear for him to go absolutely feral on you. The way you begged with that voice sent blood rushing straight to his cock. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to go faster? I will give anything you ask, baby..” His thrusts got harder and faster. You gripped his shoulders tight, and your eyes rolled back as Jungkook hit your sweet spot perfectly. Sounds of wet skin slapping against each other were echoing throughout the whole area. Your moans are starting to get increasingly louder. Jungkooks quickly covered your mouth before leaning down and whispering into your ears. "don't want your boyfriend to hear how much I'm making you feel good, wouldn’t ya?” Tears streamed down your face as his dick abused your hole. Jungkook left wet kisses and purple hickeys on the sides of your neck, going lower and lower. You wrapped your hands around his neck and your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to your body as you writhed and twitched in pleasure. Jungkook's cock was ruining your pussy
“Fuck-“ Jungkook's voice got caught in his throat as you clenched around him again. He savoured the warm feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock. “Taking me so well little girl…” he breathed into your ear in a whisper. Whines after whines left your mouth. His girthy cock, grazing your gummy, warm walls. The grip on your hips got tighter, enough to form visible bruises.
His thrusts were quick and sharp, and it has you seeing stars. You could feel the knot in your stomach reach its peak. He grunted into your neck and lifted his head up to look at you. “Gonna cum pretty? Gonna make a little mess for me?” You nodded and whined as his hand left your mouth and reached down to play with your puffy clit. You choked as he started flicking your sensitive nub. “Make a huge mess for me.. I will make sure my idiot son cleans it up..” he gave you a wink before focusing on helping you reach your orgasm. He was almost close too. His grip on your waist tightened, and he continued pounding into you. 
“fuckkk!!!!” Your vision went blurry as you came all over his lower body. Streams of clear liquid coated the couch and his abdomen. Jungkook gawked at the sight, and he was so close to cumming. He quickly pulled out of you before removing the condom. His hand wrapped around his throbbing length, and he started jerking himself off. His head thrown back and mouth agape. “L-look at me baby..” he whispered, and you obeyed. Looking up at him through your dazed state. Eyes glossy, and your face was covered in a thin layer of sheen as you slowly came down from your high. Jungkook opened his eyes, looked at you once, and busted all over your body. Some of his cum even reached your face. A load of his creamy white cum never seemed to stop pouring out of his dick. Your stomach and shirt were stained with the thick liquid. You quickly wiped it off your face, licking it off your fingers as you stared into his eyes with a smirk. Jungkook let out a soft chuckle before reaching down to grab your face so he could kiss you. His lips met yours again, but this time it was more gentle. More passionate. He could taste himself on your lips. “Dirty little girl.“
Tumblr media
A/N: thank you for reading!!! I was not rlly sure abt the topic because its the first time i actually wrote a cnc fic w plot 😭🧍‍♀️but i hope it was upto par!! Also if it seems like the plot gets lost somewhere please ignore 💀✋😨
Masterlist <3
!!
1K notes · View notes
peachsayshi · 3 months
Note
🩵
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) - dad gojo x reader
papa's scary face is how your daughter describes it. the difference when her usually bubbly, bright father morphs into somebody else. the expression he makes when she accidentally walks in on you and satoru having a serious argument. when she catches him coming home from work with his shoulders taut and his brows furrowed.
satoru's daughter is the light of his life - his little peace of heaven on earth. that's why he is so terrible when it comes to discipline (a lecture you constantly have to give him). she has never been on the receiving end of your lover's scary face. isn't familiar with the hardened muscles he express when serious, or notices the angry twitch of his jaw when frustrated.
it's rare, but these moments happen. satoru may possess godlike powers, but he's still inherently human. his very essence the same that make up you and your daughter.
you're surprised when you see her quietly tiptoe her way towards the sofa, towards you and her father. her energetic aura dwindled by silence. her bottom lip is tucked tightly between her teeth, her beautiful round eyes varnished with tears ready to fall.
satoru's face instantly drops with concern. his body immediately growing protective with his arm lightly slipping away from around your waist.
"you okay, mochi?" he asks sweetly, his brow quirking at her arms tucked behind her back.
you both know that she's hiding something.
"I did something bad" she says quietly, her worried voice so small it makes satoru spring to his feet to meet her halfway.
he crouches on his knees, his height daunting compared to hers. he lightly tugs at her frosty pigtail, and she sniffles ever so slightly to keep her brave face in place.
always trying to hold a strong front, just like her father.
"what did you do?" he asks with a gentle smile, watching her shift from one foot to the next.
" I..uhm...I was playing with your toys," she mumbles, unable to meet his gaze as she keeps her own firmly on her pattering feet. "I know they're yours. I know I have’ta ask first. I was tryna to be...uhm..."
"careful?" satoru completes, tilting his head in an attempt to make contact with his hesitant daughter who still hasn't figured out all her words just yet.
"yeh that..." she grumbles to reveal what's behind her hands.
you press your fingers against your lips when you see it.
satoru's favorite pair of sunglasses.
a limited edition pair from one of his favorite high fashion brands. he splurged a stupid amount of money of it. even kept the packaging because he hyper fixated on the details. the frame was extremely delicate, which is why he rarely wore it. but he gushed over it for almost a year since it's pre-release was announced.
his daughter, however, has a habit of sneaking into her father's room to steal one of the many pairs of shades that your lover wore. she enjoyed "modeling" them, and would flash poses in front of your bedroom mirror while sifting through his collection like they were treasure.
you and satoru have caught her doing this many times before, and while the both of you found it adorable, you realized that your daughter wasn't very careful when handling things.
she scratched the lens of another pair that belonged to her father. bent the temple of a second, which he hasn't been able to fix.
so, when satoru received these specific shades, the two of you sat her down to try and explain that she couldn't freely just loot around his stuff without asking for permission.
right now, those very shades where split into two in his daughter's hands.
satoru's jaw goes slack when he picks them up from her tiny palms, his cheeks tinting a slight red from surprise.
"im sorry, papa," she timidly begs, bringing her now empty hands to cover her eyes. her body heaves, you can see that she is trying really hard not to cry.
satoru allows the shock to settle for only just a minute, before he places the broken sunglasses by his side. there's something else that washes over him - relief.
he circles his arms around her wrists, tugging them away from her face but she keeps them fiercely in place. he chuckles with ease, shaking his head in disbelief as he loosens his grip to grab her waist and pull her into his frame.
"silly girl," he teases. "it's okay, papa's not mad, I promise..."
"but I didn't listen to what you 'n mama said-"
"I know," he sighs calmly, "and you know that was wrong, right? not to listen?"
she nods her head yes, her hands still covering her face.
"Eyes on me, grabby hands..." satoru lectures but she shakes her head no.
"Don't wanna see your scary face," she awkwardly admits, and you can't help but bite back a smile.
she's far too innocent to understand what those expressions. to young to acknowledge that they weren't always bad. that they were, in fact, normal. and that one day she will bare the cross of these complex emotions herself.
"scary face?" satoru huffs, "you think daddy has a scary face?"
she drops her hands to her side swiftly, revealing her guilt and wet cheeks. she furiously shakes her head no, taking in a large inhale as she wipes her face with the back of her hands.
it makes your heart ache watching her try to comprehend the weight of her small feelings.
"nu-uh," she reassures, "but-but sometimes..."
satoru kisses her plush cheek three times over to interrupt her eyes, "I am not mad at you, mochi," he consoles, "just promise you won't do it again."
"pinky swear!" she yelps as she searches for his long, slender digits. the relief brings the color back into her face, the pale sheet of white bloomed with a tiny blush. she hooks her pinky around satoru's, the size different so prominent, before eagerly wrapping her arms around his neck. "m'sorry, papa"
"it's okay, baby," he coos as he kisses her forehead.
the scene is heartwarming, and while satoru maintained his cool, you can still read the disappointment on his face.
the pair slip away from each other's arms, your daughter picking up the broken shades as she patters her way back down the hallway to give you both some privacy.
satoru gets up, his hand clutching his chest as he turns to give you a pathetically sad expression.
"how much does it hurt?" you tease, watching him drag his feet back to you.
you grumble when he collapses into your chest, burying his nose into your neck as he wraps his strong arms around your waist.
"this is the worst heartbreak of my life," he groans obnoxiously, and you raise your own brows in surprise.
"I thought our break up was the worst heartbreak you’ve experienced," you chide, twirling the strands of his soft hair between your fingers.
"seriously? you want to bring that up now? while I'm in mourning?"
you giggle when he sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh of your neck, nipping at your skin tenderly before exhaling with sorrow.
"ugh, she's got me wrapped around her fingers like taffy," he moans like he can’t believe his own defeat, "did you see her face? how can I even get mad?"
"I know, my love," you coo, consoling your own crybaby.
Minutes pass in silence before satoru finally ponders that, "maybe, I can find another pair online or something-"
"papa!" your daughter chirps, interrupting the moment as quickly as she graced it.
satoru untangles himself from your embrace, sitting upright to see her pigtails bouncing as she scampers towards you both. her steps hit the ground fast. he doesn't even have a chance to answer before she climbs on his lap, her eyes still a little glossy from shedding her tears. she wipes away the rogue strands of feathery hairs that stuck to her temple, before showing off what's in her hand.
"I fixed it for you," she beams, her face hopeful and optimistic.
Satoru picks up the glasses from between her fingers, noticing that she had used one of her washy tapes to stick the bridge back together.
It was blue, and had little ducks on it.
You can feel an eruption of laughter bubbling in your chest, but pure love bleeds through Satoru's eyes, completely moved by her gesture.
"Aww, mochi," he gently replies, tracing his thumb over the tape.
He arches forward to kiss her nose, while she seeks another embrace between mumbling into his ear that she loves him.
You simply melt by their side.
Satoru doesn't wear the glasses anymore, but he still keeps them. Bringing them out every once in a while to show his daughter that he still loves them.
Even though they sit quite lopsided on his handsome face.
[requests are closed]
2K notes · View notes
saetoru · 9 months
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ JUST YOURS — LYNEY.
contents. archon quest spoilers, reader finds out lyney is from the house of the hearth—and all the drama + betrayal that comes from that </3 so big rip </3 but it has a hopeful ending tho !!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
lyney has knocked on your door three times today—you haven’t opened up once. you can’t.
“please,” you can hear his muffled voice, “i just want to talk. will you let me explain?”
magicians must always make their audience believe in the impossible, he’s always told you with that sweet, alluring little smile on his face that makes you hang onto every word of his. he’s right, you think—magicians are simply those who have mastered the art of deception, and lyney is no exception. he’s deceiving you even now, with that broken voice as if he’s the one who’s hurt.
word spreads fast in fontaine—lyney, your sweet, romantic, devoted lyney, is of the house of the hearth. his trial mortifies you at first—but deep down, you know in your heart that lyney is no murderer. and then, in an instant, you’re not so sure anymore when somehow, within less than a day, lady furina is able to uncover more about your boyfriend than you have in months.
lyney is of the house of the hearth. he’s of the fatui.
“i’m sorry,” you hear a thud of his forehead resting against the door, “you’re mad, i know—but let me explain the—”
for the first time all day, you open the door. you’re not sure why—somehow, you need him to know you’re not just mad. you’ve been mad at lyney before, being mad is easy. being mad means he’ll pull a rose from behind your ear and make you smile against your will. being mad means you’ll realize you can’t stay mad at him for long, not when he looks at you like that. being mad is temporary—but this? this feels permanent.
you’re not mad at lyney. you simply can’t trust him anymore, and he needs to know that, needs to understand that he should stay away and never find you again.
you’re glaring at him, staring at the face that has always done nothing but make you smile. you wonder, for a small, doubtful moment, if every smile lyney has ever pulled from you has been built off of pure lies and half truths and withheld information.
you’ve given him every bit of yourself, told him everything there is to tell and then some, let him discover things himself that no one has yet to learn. and lyney, as you learn, is someone you can’t even begin to know, not really—maybe not ever.
“you’re with the fatui,” your voice is cold, but you know he can hear the waver—you hate him for that. for being able to pick you apart when you don’t know the first thing about him, “you’ve lied to me all this time—”
“i didn’t lie,” he says quickly, “i just…didn’t tell you everything—”
“that’s not any better,” you cut him off, finality in your voice that makes his eyes widen a fraction, “i have no business with someone of the—”
“wait,” his foot stops the door before it can close, stepping in despite your protests as he inches closer and closer. you take a step back every time—the hurt on his face is palpable. “can…can i explain? please?”
“explain what?” you furrow your eyebrows, “explain that you’re with the fatui? how is there any explaining that? how can you look me in the eye and tell me you’re not bad—”
“i’m not,” he insists, “i’m not bad.”
lyney has never looked at you like that—like you’ve hurt him right where he’s most vulnerable, right where he’s weak and fragile and can’t bear to be hurt. you hate that you want to apologize for a moment, that you want to cradle his face and kiss the tremble off of his lips.
“then what are you?” you challenge, crossing your arms.
“i’m trying to save people,” he croaks, “our organization has a lot of people—a lot of goals. father and i want to—”
“your father has hurt people,” you cut him off.
“father saved me,” he says firmly, “and lynette. she gave us a home. and she wants to save the people of this nation—”
“she’s taken advantage of your weakness and—”
“she did what no one else would for me and my family.”
“then go,” you spit, “go to her and do her bidding. but i can’t turn a blind eye to the fact that you’re with the fatui.”
“even as a member of the house, my decisions are my own,” his hand grabs yours—you can’t find it in yourself to pull it away. it’s familiar, warm—it’s lyney. your lyney. “i’m doing what i believe is right. to break the prophecy.”
“i don’t know what you’re trying to do,” you admit, tired, defeated, “or who you are, frankly. but i’m tired of lies, lyney.”
“then i’ll tell you the truth,” his voice trembles, “anything you ask.”
“i’m not sure that’ll help,” you say quietly.
and then his arms are wrapped tightly around you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck as he pulls you close. you want to push him away. you want to melt into his arms. you want to tell him to leave. you want to ask him to always stay.
lyney is of the house of the hearth, the fatui. but he’s also your lyney—the one who brings you flowers and tucks them behind your ear, the one who does tricks for children and makes them smile, the one who gives his heart and soul for his family to keep them safe.
you don’t know if the two can coexist as one, but you know despite it all, you still love lyney, and you don’t know if you can stop. the thought is haunting.
“i’ve always done what i believe is right,” he promises, “i’ve never hurt someone innocent. you have to know that much.”
“lyney—”
“i love you,” his voice breaks, “i’ve always loved you as just lyney. i promise.”
“i’m scared of who you are when you’re not just lyney,” you whisper—and you suppose you’re also weak, because your hand slips into his hair, stroking through the strands so that if it’s the last time, maybe you can commit the feeling of him to memory.
you can feel his tears fall onto your skin, and you can feel his fingers grip your shirt as he clings onto you, onto the last bit of hope that you’re his—that he’s yours. your lyney, the one you’ve always known and loved.
“i’m always just lyney,” he promises, “no matter who i’m with.”
“i just…need time,” you sniffle, “to think.”
“okay,” he says quietly. you can feel his lip quiver against your skin as he presses a kiss to your neck, “i’ll wait. however long you need, i’ll wait. i love you.”
“i know, lyney,” you sigh, caving and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head. you savor the feeling—just in case you’ll never feel it again.
maybe you can—maybe he’s telling the truth. maybe lyney has always been yours, the one you think you know. you don’t know, but you hope you’ll find out.
Tumblr media
i would forgive him i can’t lie to you no amount of fatui crimes could outweigh how badly i need to kiss this little shrimp of mine
4K notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 2 months
Note
I love your writing sm, it's just what I needed μ_μ Do you think you could write Leon being the father of reader's idiot ex who just broke up with her? Leon just wants to console her and the reader only thinks about all the sexual tension they had for a while and now they have nothing to stop them.
(sorry if my english is bad, luv ya)
Tumblr media
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: your ex boyfriend's dad comforts you after you and his son breakup
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap
word count: 5.3k
a/n: dilf leon you KNOW i love that. thank you so much for your request. i hope you like it! i used death island for the picture, but imagine leon in his late forties for this. as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi
Tumblr media
Leon lets out a deep sigh as he yanks the keys out of the ignition and his car's engine fizzles out. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looks down at his lap. He takes another deep breath and shakes his head before looking out the window at your apartment building. He’d been told you lived on the fourth floor.
He opens the door next, stepping out into the cold air. The sun was nowhere to be found today, the sky completely masked by a collection of gray clouds. He walks around to the back of the car and pops the trunk open to collect the box of memories he’d been tasked with returning to you.
He didn’t understand how he’d ended up with this job. Despite his numerous daydreams he wished he could forget, you weren’t ever his girlfriend. He hadn’t been the one you’d come over to visit. You didn’t fall asleep in his room or wear his t-shirts or kiss him goodbye when you left. He hadn’t been the one to cheat on you or make you cry for days on end either. No. That’d been his son.
So why was he the one going out of his way to bring you this stuff? That was what he couldn’t comprehend.
Well that’s not exactly true. He comprehended just fine. His son planned on throwing out your stuff that’d been left at his house, remnants of your eight months together. Leon didn’t want that. He’d told his son to pack it up and take it to you like a man should. He had been the one in the wrong after all. But no, his son argued up and down, coming up with every reason under the sun as to why it was better to just throw it away. So Leon just gave up. He knew if he commanded it, his son would just shove your shit in a box and drive down the street to throw it from the window of his moving car. The car Leon paid for.
Truth be told, he always had a soft spot for you. A chamber of his heart that was coated in guilt, surrounded by denial, but internally the sweetest part of him. The one piece of his soul that saw some light in the world that had gone dark for him years ago. So just for you, Leon drove the thirty minutes to your complex to deliver your belongings.
He picks up the cardboard box and tucks it under his arm. The trunk slams with a loud thump, and he’s thinking of what he’s even going to say to you when you open the door. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know if you were home. He had a pretty good idea of your schedule from the time you’d spend on the phone with his son or at his house, but he didn’t even check to be sure.
In the midst of mentally scolding himself, the bottom of the box bursts, and your items go tumbling out onto the pavement. He tries to catch them, but his fingers just miss. Another sigh seeps from his lungs as he crouches down to scoop them up. He picks up a pink hoodie that’d been crumpled up at the foot of his son’s bed, a stuffed bear he saw him pull from the crack between the mattress and the wall, and a bracelet that laid abandoned on the nightstand. He collects other little pieces of you scattered across the damp concrete before managing to situate them in his arms and resume walking to you.
He tosses the broken box into the nearby trash before entering the building and going down the hall and to the elevator. From what he saw, the place was alright. You didn’t live in luxury, but he was relieved he wouldn’t be left worrying about your safety after he left.
The elevator glides up to your floor in total silence with him being the only one in the small space. The little ding that marks his arrival releases a burst of anxiety within him. He felt so dumb. He was nervous like he was your and his son’s age. He pushes those feelings away and gets himself to be normal, to act his age. All he had to do was knock, shove this shit in your arms, and leave.
On the way down the hall to your unit, he realizes this plan means this will probably be the last time he ever sees you. Spare some chance encounter at the grocery store, this would be the final time he’d feel your sweet eyes on him or see that timid smile when he complimented you. That made him sad to think about. He never thought you’d be a permanent fixture in his life. You and his son were young, and being the type of guy his son was, he doubted your relationship was destined to succeed. In honesty, he was shocked it lasted as long as it did. But now, the ending was real. Knowing the time with you in his life was coming to a close felt how the sky outside looked.
Once he reaches the door with your number on it, his fist taps the wood twice. He hears soft shuffling inside, followed by the sound of locks being undone a couple moments later. You crack the door open, standing there in your pajamas. Both your top and bottoms were plain gray. You looked worn down. He could tell you’d been crying. Poor baby.
Your tired eyes flicker with curiosity when they glance up at his face. 
“Mr. Kennedy?” you ask with confusion.
His mouth breaks into a charming grin upon hearing that. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Leon before it sticks?” he teases.
“Sorry…” you say. You didn’t smile at his teasing like normal. Given the circumstances, he supposed that made sense. “What are you doing here?”
“I have some of your stuff you left at my house. Can I come in?” he asks.
Now your eyes flash with a brief spout of anger, but you still open the door wider for him to enter.
“He couldn’t bring it to me?” you ask with clear bitterness in your tone.
He cringes at the sound. What was he supposed to say? In reality, he was on your side, but wouldn’t it be wrong to tell you that? He loved his son. He really did. Even with all the mistakes he made and the flaws he’d caused the boy, he loved him. He probably shouldn’t talk shit about him with his ex-girlfriend.
But at the same time, it was you. You weren’t just some random ex-girlfriend. He’d known you for the better half of a year. You were sweet, actually polite enough to say hello when you came over. You could hold a conversation. And sure, it didn’t hurt any that you were cute too. He felt something strong for you. He just struggled to articulate exactly what that something was. He was tempted to say you’d become part of the family. That’s probably what plenty of others in his situation would say. But the shameful thoughts that plagued his mind when he was alone late at night begged to differ with that assessment
Right now, it didn’t look like you were doing well. He sees the setup you have for yourself on the couch. A heap of blankets, pushed and twisted up around the spot you’d clearly been laying before he interrupted. The curtains were drawn, it was dark in here. You didn’t need him to run defense for the guy who cheated on you, relations aside.
“Guess not,” is how he finally answers your question to which he’s met with a roll of your eyes.
“Of course,” you mutter while walking over to meet him at the counter so you can inspect your items after he puts them down.
You rifle through the different things, scanning them haphazardly before returning your disinterested gaze to him. Your arms cross over your chest, and you shrug.
“Thanks, I guess.”
You’re clearly expecting him to leave now. And he knows that’s what he should do. Awkwardly shuffle out the door with a small wave goodbye. He can’t though. Something inside him won’t let him pull away just yet.
“How have you been?” he starts tentatively, “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.” 
“Fine… I guess,” you answer.
You guess. Again. A nervous tick. An indicator of deflection. You clearly didn’t want to delve into the inner workings of your broken heart with the father of the man responsible. He should back off. But he doesn’t.
“Are you sure? I know you two are broken up now or whatever you want to call it, but I still care about you, you know? You’re a sweet girl,” he starts, hating how this was coming out, “I just… I know how it is to feel alone. I don’t want that for you. If you need someone to talk to…”
“I should come to you? Is that it?” you say, a bit harsher than he would like.
“Well… yeah?” he responds.
You turn away, cutting him off from seeing your reactions. “That’s nice, Leon. But… I don’t think you’re the one I should talk to about any of this,” you say.
He takes a step closer, laying a cautious hand on your shoulder. “I think I’m the perfect one for you to talk to about this,” he says.
His reasoning is brief, but he doesn’t feel the need for more. Despite your resistance, the gears in your head are turning, deciding whether or not to take the offer. “There’s nothing to even talk about. It is what it is,” you reply. He can hear that characteristic softness returning to your voice.
“I don’t think that’s true. You don’t have to lie to me,” he says, getting even closer. He gently guides you back to the couch and clears some space for the two of you to sit. He directs your eyes back to him before he finishes speaking. “It’ll stay between us.”
You look up at him, sweet glossy eyes threatening to spill your emotions down your cheeks. He can see your apprehension, but in the end, you still decide to go for it.
“I just… I feel so dumb,” you start, biting your lip.
“You shouldn’t,” he tells you.
“But I do,” you say, voice becoming strained, “People told me he would do something like this, and I actually defended him. I’m so stupid, and everyone knows it now.”
While he wasn’t too pleased to learn of his son’s reputation, his sympathy for you overwhelms that. His hand rubs up and down your back as your head falls to your hands.
“Sweetheart…” he sighs, the term rolling out before he can stop himself, “It’s not your fault. It’s not a bad thing to be trusting.”
He sees your face tense as you lose the battle to hold your tears in. His heart aches seeing you look so defeated.
“Yes it is,” you cry, “I hate it.”
“Hey, c’mere,” he says and pulls you closer. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and holds you to his side. “Don’t talk like that about yourself, ok? Being cheated on doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”
He felt slightly awkward considering the cheater in question is his own flesh and blood. The feeling of your soft body against him overrides that thought though. You’re still weeping into his chest, so he continues.
“Look, baby,” he says. Another pet name. His mind screams for him to get a grip. “I love my son, but… I know him too. He can be insensitive, and that’s not what a girl like you needs.”
You look up at him, interested in his potential point. In your eyes, he feels he can see his reflection glaring back at him with disapproval.
“You’re such a precious thing. Someone to be handled with care,” he whispers, stroking your jaw, “I don’t want this to take that from you.”
More tears roll down your cheeks while you take in his words. He swipes a couple away with his thumb as he talks to you.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. With my ex-wife, with my son, with my work. Christ, just with my life in general.” Why was he telling you this? “I look at you, and you remind me of who I was before those mistakes. I know stuff like this can make you bitter, and I just don’t want that to happen to you. You don’t need to blame yourself for what he did or try to keep how you feel inside. Once you get past this, you’re gonna move onto something better for you. I just don’t want you to forget that.”
He watches your lip quiver harder before the floodgates finally burst. Now that he’d given you permission, you don’t hold back. A sob tumbles from your lips. He immediately goes to pull you closer again, but this time you take it upon yourself. His eyes widen as you scoot into his lap.
It’s as if he acts on instinct though. As soon as you have your face buried against his throat, his arms loop around you in return. One hand rubs the expanse between your shoulder blades while the other simply supports the small of your back.
“Sweet baby…” he whispers.
“He told me he loved me,” you weep. He can feel your warm tears dripping down his skin now.
“I’m sure he did, honey,” he says and rocks back and forth with you a bit.
Now you really unload. You cry against him about basically every wrongdoing his son had committed in your time together. He compared you to other girls, told you that you were too needy, forgot your birthday. And Leon listens to it all, not playing devil’s advocate even once.
Guilt burns hot in his chest though. Nevertheless, he tries to convince himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just helping a poor, hurting girl in need. But that excuse crumbles when he simply thinks about what his son would say to the sight of his ex-girlfriend curled up on his father’s lap, clinging to him like he was her new man.
His mind continued trying to justify this anyways, putting forth the idea that this was out of his control. He was powerless when it came to situations like this. The life he led so far had wired a savior complex into his brain. He couldn’t resist you, another princess he could restore to her pedestal.
That was definitely part of why he didn’t put you back on the couch and slowly begin to make an exit. The other part was less honorable. Despite his mind’s ideas of noble motivations, deep down he knew part of this was selfishness. Being human, he wasn’t gonna complain about a pretty young girl warming his lap. And being himself, he certainly wasn’t going to complain because that girl happened to be you. The guilt he felt faded instantly with one look at your doe face or one word from your tender voice.
“None of that is your fault,” he comforts you once you finish your list and breaks away from his thoughts, “You didn’t deserve any of it.”
“I know…” you whimper before another sob comes from you, “I hate him so much. But it’s even worse cause I still miss him.”
That shoots a sharp pang of jealousy through his heart to which he mentally slaps himself. God, you made him feel pathetic, but in a way he didn’t want to admit, that was part of the appeal. He holds you tighter and nuzzles the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.
“That’s ok. It’s only natural,” he coos and continues soothing you.
“Why do I miss him? How do I make it stop?” you cry, your voice cracking.
Fuck. You really did remind him of himself which only made this more twisted. He knew what you were feeling so well. That longing ache that festers inside until you feel like clawing your skin off and prying your ribs apart to purge yourself of the infection. He sighs and shifts you on his thigh, pulling you closer to him.
“You can’t make it go away. You know that. It’s a time-heals-all-wounds situation, sweetheart. Just gotta wait it out, but it’ll get better,” he says.
Then he must have truly gone over the edge because he leans in and presses a faint kiss to your hairline. Luckily for him, you don’t protest. Instead, it draws more tears from you. Your arms lock around him and pull the rest of your body closer
“I just feel empty, and I don’t know why. He wasn’t that great… no offense,” you sniffle.
“None taken,” he says softly, a small smile rising on his lips. He keeps rubbing your back, resting his head on top of yours. “Most breakups hurt, even when you’ve run the course of the relationship. It’s not fun losing someone.”
It wouldn’t be fun losing you. That was for fucking sure. He was only making it worse for himself by doing all this. At this point, he wasn’t sure how he’d manage to tear himself away once you stopped crying.
“I guess,” you whimper, lip puffing out into a sweet pout he’d only ever seen as a joke before.
“You’re such a sensitive girl, honey. So delicate,” he murmurs against your hair. He knows he should stop. He’s toeing the borderline, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from hurdling over it at full force.
“I’m overdramatic,” you correct.
He scoffs, dismissing your claim. “Did someone tell you that? Because they don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re precious,” he whispers with another kiss to your head.
That word seems to strike something in you. Your crying that had been dwindling seems to soften down to an occasional ragged breath. You look up at him with your watery eyes. He continues to push away remaining tears on your cheeks before running his knuckles down your jaw.
As he looks into your eyes, the temptation becomes irresistible. He needs you.
“Sweet thing like you… you need someone who can understand you, protect those feelings of yours, not make you feel bad about ‘em,” he says, his thumb dragging over your chin.
“You think so?” you ask.
“Oh yeah. There’s nothing wrong with wearing your heart on your sleeve,” he says teasingly, “All it means is that you care. Plus, this may be just me, but I think it’s pretty cute.”
Your teary eyes widen just the slightest amount, and your hips squirm a bit on his lap. You look down at your fingers fidgeting with one another.
“I don’t know,” you say quietly.
“I do. You’re so pretty when you cry, baby,” he mutters and lifts your chin to get you to look at him again, “You have puppy eyes, just begging for some love.”
A shy smile starts spreading on your face. Your eyes cast down, and he knows he’s got you hooked. Now he just has to reel you in.
“Yeah, you know it’s true,” he whispers and leans in to kiss your cheeks, “Bet you have a lot of fun using ‘em on people.”
“No,” you say timidly, eyes glancing back up at him.
“Oh, of course not. A little angel like you would never take advantage,” he teases. He kisses across your cheek bone to your temple, and then moves his lips down to where your jaw meets your neck. He can hear your breath hitching. His hands pull you closer to his body, feeling your warmth up against him. One slides to your side, rubbing up and down slowly.
“That’s why you need to be taken care of,” he breathes against your skin, “Let me take care of you, baby.”
You nod with no hesitation on your part. He can tell from the breath you let out that you're giving into some temptations of your own. Your head leans in and he ducks down to connect your lips, nearly groaning as he feels the plush flesh press against him. The kisses start off tender, just little pecks as you explore the feeling of each other. But they soon grow in passion. Your mouths open against each other. Your tongues meet, and spit coats one another's lips. You’re both breathing heavier.
He pulls back to look at you, those eyes he had been going on about now clouded with lust. Moving in for a few more, he cups your face. “You like that?” he murmurs.
“Mhm,” you hum, reciprocating the affection. 
He chuckles as you move in even closer, the swell of your breasts pushing up against his chest. His hands squeeze your waist and turn you around so your back is to his front, your head tilted on his shoulder.
“Pretty baby, so eager for me,” he coos as his hands smooth up your stomach to your chest. He fondles your tits through your top, feeling their entirety since you weren’t wearing a bra.
The softest noise of satisfaction leaves you, and you nip at his lips. He deepens the kiss in response, groping you a bit harder. Your hands travel South to his belt, attempting to undo behind your back, but his hand drops and grabs your wrists.
“Not yet,” he corrects with a kiss to your temple, “There’s no rush. I want to take my time with you. Warm you up like you deserve.”
His mouth envelopes yours again while his hand releases your wrists and returns to your breast. He can feel your nipples perking up in anticipation. His cock starts to do the same beneath you. As you feel it, you roll your ass back against him, providing some friction. He smiles against your lips, the prior reservations he had about this leaving his mind one by one.
Maneuvering his palms between your thighs, his fingers coast up and down the sensitive skin. His mouth trails down to your neck to kiss you there, sucking soft love bites onto your throat. You’re single now. It’s not like you’d have to hide them.
He parts your legs a bit more before cupping them underneath and pulling you down so that you’re at an angle where he can remove the fluffy pajama pants that kept him from his target. You watch the soft fabric fall away and crumple up on the floor. You’re a little jittery as he exposes your skin now. This is real, no longer a far-fetched fantasy.
His hand is on your pussy in seconds, stroking you through the thin cotton that covers it. The kisses to your throat don’t stop, and his free hand keeps you in place on his lap.
“Those college boys you’ve been running around with are too busy thinking with their dicks. They don’t know what to do with a prize like you,” he murmurs and drags his nose up the curve of your face.
He chooses to forget the fact that the boy you had been running around with was his son. That didn’t need to matter right now. All that mattered was the whimper that fell from you, the way your hair felt against the crook of his neck. His fingers play with you a little more before sliding into your panties.
“Aw, you’re already getting wet, hm?” he purrs, “Precious girl. Probably so pent up. Never been properly fucked the way you shoulda been.”
You nod and turn your head to look into his eyes. He takes the chance to kiss you again, working his mouth with yours while his fingers coasted through your folds.
“Need you to make it better,” you mumble against his lips.
You feel his smirk and how he kisses with increased fervor. The pads of his fingers swirl around your clit, eliciting a tiny gasp from you.
“Not a problem, baby. You’re not leaving my lap till you can’t remember why you were crying in the first place,” he whispers.
You sigh with content and resume languidly making out. His fingertips are rough on the smooth skin of your center, dragging over your sweet spots with the best friction you’d ever felt. Your body arches into his touch. You actually want more. A refreshing feeling for you.
He continues focusing on your sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking over it, pressing small circles into it, swiping down across it. Occasionally, he’d massage lower, teasing your entrance and feeling the arousal pooling from his actions.
“You like how I’m playing with you? Feel good having that clit touched? It’s so sensitive, just like the rest of you,” he breathes.
You nod again,  a desperate whine unraveling out of you. He chuckles and speeds up his fingers.
“I knew you would. You’re beyond the little boys who thrust a few times and leave you wanting for more. Think it’s pretty obvious you need a real man,” he says.
He didn’t even know where half this stuff was coming from, but he wasn’t gonna launch an investigation into it. It worked for you, so it was working for him.
Your hips buck as he maintains a steady pace and even amount of pressure. He rubbed you just the way you liked, as if he knew your body on an instinctual level.
“You’re gonna cum just from my fingers. You can do it. Have you gushing already before I slip my cock in you,” he murmurs against your skin.
His fingers have started making wet noises as they slide up and down on your cunt. You mewl and tense up, relishing the pleasure he brought you. You whimper out his name quietly, over and over. Leon. Specifically him.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s the one making you feel so good? Who’s the one you’ve needed all along?”
You gasp it again for him. Leon.
“Good girl,” he growls.
He moves his fingers with more precision and dedication, taking you right to the blissful edge and letting you crash over it. Watching how your body writhes on his lap, he holds you through it. He makes sure to keep you up right.
You feel lightning strike within you, the storm of euphoria swirling in the pit of your stomach. You let go all over his fingers, and thoroughly coat his hand with your release. He goes in for more, sliding his fingers down as if they’re going to dip inside you, but you whine in protest.
“Leon… don’t wanna wait anymore,” you whimper.
He chuckles at your impatience and shakes his head.
“You talk about it like you’ve been waiting forever when it’s only been a couple minutes,” he teases.
“Feels like forever,” you pout.
He kisses your frown and pulls your underwear off completely. He then turns you around on his lap to face him.
“You ready for the real thing then?” he breathes, smirking at your quick confirmation.
He boosts his hips off the couch and shoves his pants down enough so that his cock can spring free. It bobs up in anticipation. His hand grasps it, sliding it against your entrance. 
After a few teasing swipes, he sinks you down on it, savoring every small change in your expression. Your eyes flutter, your mouth lolls open slightly, your brows furrow.
“Oh, I can tell that’s what you’ve been needing,” he whispers, guiding your hips into a rhythm.
You bounce up and down on him, breathy moans escaping you with each rise and fall.
“Mhm, wanted it for so long,” you whine.
His eyebrow raises at that. “Yeah?” he grunts, sharply inhaling as you squeeze around him, “How long? How bad did you want it?”
“So bad. Wanted it for months,” you confess as your head falls back, “Wanted to be yours instead.”
He knows he’s going to hell for the rush of satisfaction that floods his veins. He doesn’t falter though, just pulls you closer and starts thrusting up into you.
“Oh, did you? Dirty secret, baby, but I can’t say I didn’t feel the same way,” he moans before reconnecting his mouth with yours, “Sweet baby like you, wanted you to be all mine.”
A quick moan leaves you, and you keep riding. Your hips roll up and down, working him as deep into you as he can go. Your arousal drips down his heavy balls, making a mess where the two of you connect.
“Dreamed about you sometimes,” you gasp, letting it all out.
His eyes droop with more desire. They shouldn’t, but your revelations only spurred him on. He thrusts up harder and digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips.
“Yeah? Bet you felt so guilty waking up soaked between your legs for someone you couldn’t have,” he says, vision trained on you, “I felt the same way. Hard as a rock for you and no relief.”
“Now there is,” you whimper as you lean down and nuzzle your face against his.
With hot breaths in each other's face, you both feel the cords of release being pulled taut. You bite your lip, and he cages you in against his body, keeping you flush against him.
“Even with that dirty little secret, you’re still such a good girl. Need you to be my good girl,” he mumbles in your ear before moaning, hips tensing as he feels the sweeping sense of euphoria.
You nod dumbly as your own high creeps up on you. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whine before burying your face into his shoulder. Your hands clutch at his biceps, digging little crescents into the muscle.
He fucks you through it, making you see stars and keeping them suspended in your sights. You cling to him and clamp around him. His thrusts get sloppy, but he won’t stop until you’re coming down. That’s when he finally pulls out and gives himself a few strokes to completion, finishing on your ass. He figured you were on the pill, but he wasn’t going to make a riskier chance an even bigger risk.
You feel the warm liquid dripping down the curve of your ass. You’re too fucked out to be concerned with clean up right now though. He smiles down at you and gives you some kisses as a way to cool you off.
Reaching over to the end table, he grabs a few tissues and swipes away the small mess on your backside. After some more soothing affection, the two of you briefly readjust your clothing and get comfy with each other again. He figured this probably wasn’t the best thing he could be doing in this situation. He just fucked his son’s ex and now he was going to cuddle her too? But he does it anyway because it was what you needed, and that was his mind’s priority at the moment.
He thinks about leaving though, reverting to the original plan. He could let you doze off and just slip away. But he doesn’t. You’re too sweet, and you’re hurting. He didn’t want to pile on, but the idea that this shouldn’t develop into more than a passionate fuck still lingers in his mind..
That is until he hears your voice.
“Are you gonna leave?” you ask softly.
He looks down, heart aching at the sight of you.
“Not yet,” he answers.
“Ok good,” you say and sink into him again, “I might need you again later. In case I get sad again.”
He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play innocent. “Guess I’m stuck here then. Can’t have you crying all alone,” he says.
“Mhm,” you hum, leaning up to give him a kiss. One of the sweetest kisses he’d ever had. And just like that, you’re luring him back in.
“You know… maybe I should be proactive, make sure you don’t get the chance to be sad again today…” he murmurs, shifting to lay down on the couch and give you some kisses of his own. “Think you need some more distracting.”
He was done for.
2K notes · View notes
rboooks · 11 months
Text
DC x DP Fic idea: The Bakery is a Front!...right?
Danny Fenton starts his own business in Gotham. He knows that moving to Gotham is dangerous in a way, but it is the only other place with enough natural ectoplasm that can sustain him.
He wanted to move away from Amity Park to start on a clean slate. His parents now knew the truth, and to show their support, they were turning their research into a more sociological base instead of biological- I.E. ripped ghosts apart. Jaz got accepted into her dream college- Oxbridge. She moved overseas and is doing well in her advanced physiological courses. They told their parents of Dani, who promptly adopted her and signed her up for a traveling club under the condition she returned home for school.
The ghosts stopped challenging him after he explained Amity was his haunt and that it was bad manners to spar inside a haunt. He is open game in the ghost zone, but Danny got to choose when to go in there- his obsession requires him to defend something, so defending weaker ghosts in the Zone was a good option.
Danny always wanted to be an astronaut, but his teenage vigilante lifestyle ruined his chances- it isn't even his grades. It's a fact Danny's heart is so slow due to his ghost side it is mistaken as a heart condition. No space program would ever send him up with that. Danny decided that he would instead go with his second joy- baking. He opened Phantom Bakes in his second week in Gotham using funds from his Ghost King vault.
He served everyone and asked no questions. He was mostly sure half of his customers were gang members, but he didn't start anything and didn't allow any fights in his bakery. He became a sort of haven for everyone. He even began preparing packs for people experiencing homelessness, and bought the building next door to put some heating systems for anyone to sleep In during the winter.
Despite his obsession with protection, his human side made it possible for him to ignore it. He decided that his teenage years were spent too much giving in to his obsession and that in his twenties, he would retire. He did nothing while the various Bats threw themselves into battle, he turned a blind eye to petty crimes and basically tried not to bring any attention to himself.
He managed about six months until he accidentally walked through a cloud of fear gas while texting Sam and Tucker. His friends were tying the knot- the fact they all were best friends and exes was only slightly strange- and he was so focused on helping them plan the wedding as their Best Man he didn't hear the gasps, and horrified yells until he ran into Scarecrow.
He apologized for not looking where he was going and got a needle shoved unto his arm as a response. Danny's reflex to that was to punch the man a foot away from him.
The Bats quickly locked up the villain, and Danny decided he needed to be gone as fast as possible. He tried to return to his everyday life, but the next day, some of Scarecrow's goons showed up at his bakery asking him for work....so he hired them and taught them to make pastries. Then those goons brought over some friends who needed work but were recovering addicts and couldn't find employment.
He added coffee to his menu and threw them into that. Then some street kids asked if he would buy some stuff from them. Danny told them that he wasn't interested in car parts, but he was interested in furniture for the building next door. He had kids bringing in broken bookshelves, bed frames, and much more, paying them far more than the shady garages would.
Then some shady groups of men kept coming to his bakery asking for money for protection but Danny can protect himself just fine and proved it every single time a group made trouble.
He started having the streey kids make deliveries hoping to get them out of life of crime.
He made natural ectoplasm which, after much testing and research done by his parents, proved to clean out dangerous substances from the body. He made unique pastries that could help overcome addiction and heal withdraw.
He saw the light slowly return to the eyes of a drug-ridden community, and it brought him so much joy he barely charged for them.
Unknown to Danny, he has set himself as a up and coming villain. Rumors of his Fear Gas immunity attracted the attention of the Joker- who was found with all limbs broken, beaten black and blue after the clown tried to take a swing at Danny's employees. The baker had taken his broken body back to Arkharm, dragging the bleeding man through the streets uncaring of the line of red he left or the various people recording him in awed fear.
The rest of Gotham waited to see his true colors as he carefully built a front and gathered people. Some want to take him out as soon as possible.
Red Hood, most of all, after he heard that Danny had kids run special deliveries to know addicts. The only reason he hadn't blown his brains out was because Danny hadn't set himself up in crime alley.
The Bats had even talked him into joining an undercover mission to learn more about Danny. They didn't know what drugs he was moving or if he had a hand in other crimes, and needed more information that Oracle was unable to find.
She couldn't pull anything on Danny, driving her insane. (Techus erased Danny from the internet as a prank once and forgot to undo it.)
That led to Jason and Tim entering Phantom Bakes, acting like street kids who ran away from a homophobic father looking for a job.
Danny had them decorate cupcakes within the hour, letting them know he didn't expect them to crunch out masterpieces. They knew it would be a while to see Danny's real business so they bite thier tongues and got to work.
Tim just hopes they finish this mission before Jason snaps and shoots their main suspect....or before Danny romances the entire of Gotham because, goddammit, he has as much game as Brucie pretends to have. It's getting frustrating to see so many people throwing themselves at him, only for Danny to pretend not to notice. His good looks, charming personality, and carefully manipulated cover, drag good people into his schemes. He didn't want another Harley Quinn.
(He will ignore that his heart skips a beat whenever Danny gets too close. Thank you very much. It's just a crush; people get those all the time.)
(Part 2) (Part 3)
6K notes · View notes
lilgynt · 10 months
Text
mom bought me door accessories im like doors broken? she gets mad at me and says she’s gonna buy me a new one. brother was supposed to do that (he broke it) contact him like why is mom paying, no he is gonna do that, he does not know when but he did not forget (no one’s brought this up since my bday (( i asked for it for my bday and everyone agreed)) ) - it’s been eight months (seven specifically if you’re my mom when i’m talking to her about this) so i’m gonna pay for it bc i’m not waiting a year. no i’m a bad guy and picked a really bad time bc my mom needed something from my brother (also why do i need a door anyway ((i’m 23)) (((she’s walked in on my jacking off twice already))) ((((sees no issues with this)))) ) anyway chewed the fuck out of my brother and mom
#personal#she was saying she’s never gonna do anything nice for me again#which sucks she got a sale mentioned it to me and led to this so i get her saying that a bit#but also she says that shit everytime any one questions her like a child#but like it’s been hectic here i get it#i haven’t stirred the pot on this much at all#but was anyone gonna update me that we just had no game plan on time for the door#it got firmly moved to idk when#and now i’m the bad guy for saying i’m gonna pay for it myself and install it#bc it was a bad time to question my brother uh fuck you mean bad time#how was i supposed to know you needed something from him also i just have to take whatever you guys find acceptable#like i just got on a ladder with a broken foot to get some shit for my mom#which lots of bitching on my side do not suck me off im a bad person too#and i’m getting shit over a door i didn’t even break. for questioning what’s happening with it several months later#and a few months after it’s been promised#like i wasn’t pushing anyone till apparently we said fuck me#and like if this is where we were gonna land anyway what was the first thing i did post door breaking#attempt to buy another. so that’s 8 months with a broken door for no reason#and im getting treated like i just pissed in everyone’s dinner#and then my brothers agreeing with me that it’s fucked up and im not the bad guy#which is making me more upset like you can see it’s clearly fucking wrong but ur not changing anything!#and it’s just plain mean. after the amount of stuff i’ve been doing for the family since the door broke#i’m not saying suck me off but this in what i get in return? thats genuinely mean
0 notes