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#but like what if they still don't like you
peachdeluxe · 3 days
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A lot of you on here feel waaay too comfortable admitting that you don't and refuse to listen to rap music, and I'm not loving the incredibly reductive takes on rap because the kendrick/drake beef has it on some of yall's radar for the first time in your life.
I'm not going to sugar coat it-- for americans especially, if you consider music a significant interest of yours but still feel the need to search for acceptable reasons to keep yourself ignorant of black music, or think of rap as a monolith of hate and violence and not equally as diverse as any other genre, or can only name nonblack rappers… you should be embarrassed of that. And your embarrassment should not keep you from being active about exposing yourself to unfamiliar art and broadening what you listen to.
'I don't understand what they're saying/they rap too quickly' I'm surprised by how much I keep seeing this-- speed is not a stylistic trademark of most rap music, & clearer diction as a performer is much more necessary in rap than other genres?? Statistically rap has a lower bpm (here's an example of one person's study) average than other genres. (of course these aren't all-encompassing, but you can look into this yourself using sites like bpmdatabase.com.) Do you really feel overwhelmed by speed listening to Kendrick or Biggie or Nas or 2Pac, or have you never actually listened to their songs?
'I have to look up the lyrics'-- so what? is it a bad thing to take an extra few seconds to engage with an artist's work? If you listen to lyrical music, do you care when it's the artists you listen to? Why does the thoughtful art consumption everyone talks about not also apply to black art?
'there is too much violence and misogyny and commercialism' this is not unique to rap, or true of all rap music. Artists exist that talk about other things, the way they exist in all genres. There is an entire wikipedia page listing alternative hip hop musicians and rappers if you consider seeking it out too much labor. Click one!
'i find it unrelatable'-- who cares? Being unable to engage with art you don't find wholly relatable is a deeply childish and self centered way to exist. You get on here reblogging feel good navel-gazey posts about the shared human experience and caring for one another, but a rapper talking about living with violence or poverty is stretching the limits of what you can imagine or empathize with too much for you to care about it? You don't find that embarrassing to admit to?
You don't have to love rap, you don't have to incorporate it into what you listen to every day, but a lot of you need to be aware you're parroting reagan era anti-rap (& antiblack) pearl-clutching talking points, and it's a very ugly look. It isn't racist if your favorite genre isn't rap, but you need to do some serious self reflection if you consider it inherently less artistic, intelligent or positive than 'whiter' genres when you don't actually listen to it. I am looking at you, people into other counterculture genres-- it's crazy how much I see this from self-professed punks and metalheads especially lmfao. If expression, counterculture art, anti-censorship in music and the right for raw and unfiltered music to exist matters to you as much as you say you do, you should care about rap's relationship to censorship & fight for its legitimacy just as much as what you listen to.
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ventique18 · 2 days
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IDIA MADE AN AMV TO EXPLAIN HIS PLAN TO YUU AND FRIENDS IU'M FUCKING DYING
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HE EVEN HAS A GOD DAMN NARRATION OMFG
"Ahh~ Only good things are happening lately~ As if we're in a dream~"
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"Eh. It's actually just a dream tho."
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"Hello everyone trapped in this empty world of dreams."
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"This is Idia Shroud."
"So today, I will explain the strategy to beat:
"I BUILT A DREAM WORLD USING CHEAT-LEVEL MAGIC AS THE MOST EVIL LAST BOSS MAGE MALLEUS DRACONIA"
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"The magical domain that Malleus created is similar to a server running a huge MMORPG."
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"That means everyone's dreams are ran individually. Malleus and his clones are keeping an eye on the server."
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"In other words, Malleus is the server admin."
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"And his clones crack down on users who commit violations like in online games."
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"Malleus is the game master who has the authority to manage the entire server."
"HE REALLY IS A DEMON LORD WHO RULES THE WORLD"
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"Under his control, we have no chance of winning..."
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"HOWEVER..!"
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"With the super geek hacker group STYX using ORTHO ATTACK, the server source code has been analyzed."
"So using this, we're building cheating tools [WARNING: DO NOT DO THIS IN ACTUAL GAMES]"
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"So using these cheating tools, the administrative rights to my dream can be transferred to me."
"Then I'll lure Malleus into my dream where I can get rid of that god damned invincibility!"
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I CAN'T FUCKING TAKE THIS OH MY GOD
"-- Well, it sounds like a perfect strategy but... The truth is there's just a few things about this cheating tool..."
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"WHAT IF THE SERVER ADMIN FINDS OUT ABOUT THIS DURING DEVELOPMENT?"
"THEN,"
"GAME OVER."
"BUT BUT BUT--"
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"The thing is, even though he's using autonomous clones to monitor each dream, it still shouldn't be easy to control the dreams of 20000 PEOPLE in Sage island."
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"If problems turn up everywhere, he'll have to deal with them all!"
"Sooooo..."
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"While I'm developing the cheat tool, I want you all to distract Malleus!"
"I want you all to gather party members to defeat the Demon King!"
"Once everyone's awake, I'll send out invitations to my own dream."
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"Then I'll lure Malleus into my dream... THEN TURN ON THE CHEAT TOOL! As planned, Malleus' invincibility will disappear,"
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"Then everyone will accept the invitation and gather into my dream!"
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"THEN EVERYONE BEATS HIM UP"
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"Then Malleus will have to take down his magic AND EVERYONE WILL BE FREE!"
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"If you liked this 3-minute video, don't forget to leave a like!"
I'M GONNA FUCKING CRY THIS IS INSANE OMFG KASDJLKLDASLMASD
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seelestia · 3 days
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✧ i'll show you (if you'll let me).
⎯ there is a certain touch of beauty to witnessing a side of theirs revealed to you so naturally. it becomes as easy as breathing if you just let it happen... so, will you? ( or in other words, a way you enable them to be themselves. )
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#STARRING. aventurine, dr. ratio, sunday, dan heng ft. gn!reader. { 4.2k words }
#TAGS. fluff, established relationship. more: minor spoilers for aven's backstory (described mostly abstractly), ratio is referred to by his first name, i called sunday a nerd (sorry), dr. ratio & dan heng are certified workaholics.
#P/S. i think i may have yapped a little considering the word count but i hope it ends up being a good kind of yapping. tysm for reading! ♡
© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
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will you let aventurine hold you close when he sleeps? . . . whether it's an arm slung over your hips or his nose buried in your shoulder or fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. he doesn't ask for too much; only that you grant him the permission to cradle you in his arms, somewhere within his reach. it's a habit, he hopes you don't mind.
you have to wonder, though. considering the plenitude of pillows on the bed, why do his hands still seek you out? with all the credits he spent on those cotton-stuffed angels, you thought aventurine would relish them a bit more. but ah-ah, see? that is where you're wrong. sure, the pillows are extremely comfy but he always has a preference for things with much, much more value.
and the truth — well, his truth — is that even the softest cushions from oti mall couldn't compare to the privilege of laying his head on your chest, he'd say. especially when you brush his hair with your fingers - oh, one of the easiest ways to paradise. truly, the best value there is! can you blame a man for being honest and a little lovesick?
(“sappy,” you accuse. he pouts, offended.)
but aventurine has a flair for theatrics, you know that. his witty quips are as feather-light in weight as light-hearted they are in intent. but his touch - in the forms of kind caresses or rhythmic taps to a tune from his forgotten culture - lingers on your skin, with a yearning so heavy. you question whether it could be nostalgia or instead, silent awe at a reality he never imagined could ever be his.
(kakavasha remembers. clinging onto you for warmth like he once did to his sister, falling asleep with her prayers to mama fenge in his ears. the avgins believed gaiathra triclops to be the symbol of humility; so naturally, their prayers to her should also be humble, not too quiet but not too loud. all in moderation. for a frail child like him, those gentle prayers alone were enough to let him drift into a dreamless slumber and to ignore the shackles of reality if not for the briefest moments.
time passed. came a time where the melody he associated with slumber was no longer a soft voice lulling him but pure static, a noise to distract his mind from the chains around his wrists. they burned themselves onto his skin, searing, but he was already too familiar with the sensation to care. the mark on his neck was unwelcome, laughing at him, but he too laughed at his own pitiful reflection so what's the difference, anyway?
time passed again, the call of slumber then turned into clattering noises of chips doused in gold and dice thrown onto a surface. he thought it'd stay that way forever but before long, it morphed into up-and-down waves he couldn't decipher initially. they're gentle, faint like a human's breathing: your breathing as you allowed him to lie beside you for the first time, he realized back then. although he deems himself unworthy, an ugly grime on your pristine existence that still insists on cradling him — but despite it all, he finds this last melody to be his favorite so far.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
ticklish.
the sensation, minor yet still impactful enough, causes you to stir out of sleep. the light of noon greets your eyes and you become vaguely cognizant that the root of it all is the tufts of blond hair brushing against your neck.
there is a solid weight on your torso and a pair of slender arms loosely wrapped around your waist - but they're nothing you haven't grown used to. you comb your fingers through the messy locks licking at your skin, instinctively, and the fragrant scent of what you register as penacony's limited edition perfume kisses your nose.
“...ugh, what system time is it?” you let out a grunt, shifting around slightly to let your limbs breathe. you don't get an answer to your question, instead, aventurine's arms reestablish their hold on you. hooking you closer to him as if to wring out whatever proximity is left, if there is even any. his simple proclamation of “who cares?”, in a sense.
there it is again, that ticklish feeling. you feel soft lips grazing feather-like kisses against your collarbone. oh, he definitely isn't letting go just yet. truly merciless, a dozy morning thought accompanied by your tired sigh. the noise still comes out fond, however, so your feigned act of annoyance is fooling no one.
“it's warm, you know,” you grumble. but the yawn escaping your mouth right after betrays whatever stern image you're trying to adopt. not like you can ever be too stern with him. aventurine knows this, yes, and he gives you an A+ for effort each time.
“mhm,” he finally speaks, snuggling into your chest with no care about anything in the world, “g'morning to you too, lovely.”
his favorite mornings aren't his favorite if not thanks to your innocuous complaints and delightful attempts at pushing his pretty face away, no? a lazy grin graces the stoneheart's lips and eyes like exquisite gems, although sleepy, flutter open to gaze at you languidly. he takes the sight of you in then lets out a sigh - a fond noise just like yours earlier; the both of you really are two peas of a pod.
you must look a terrible mess right now and yet, the sight of you has aventurine smiling dazedly. “ah, what a spectacular sight. i really am the luckiest man in the galaxy,” he hums in approval. you want to roll your eyes but stops as he leans up to pepper (ah, one necessary correction: smother) kisses all over your face, arms dragging you closer to his chest like a cage. your eyes widen comically. what a nefarious trap, he has the advantage!
every remnant of sleepiness clinging to your mind evaporates. you squeal with laughter, shoving at his shoulder using the strength of a baby deer because no, you don't really want him to stop. he knows that too, of course.
“mwah, mwah, mwah—”
“pfft...! kakavasha, i can't breathe!”
(he has half a mind to pinch his skin, as if to remind himself that this is real. he can feel your giggles tickling his skin as if to tell him in return: yes, you are.)
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will you let veritas pour his heart out after a long day? . . . well, that could count as too much of an overstatement. others say, “that man is like a brick wall!” some more dare to whisper, “doesn't his temper already exhaust whatever emotional quota he has?!” needless to say, everyone knows that dr. ratio is a man ruled by the mind, not by the heart. alright, that's quite true - but does that imply he has discarded the latter altogether? if so, then you beg to differ.
(not in the literal sense, of course! the heart is a vital organ of the body. saying otherwise would be akin to spitting on his shiny phd in biology... or his seven other phd's at that.)
the pedestal which the public places veritas ratio on reaches still great heights, even if it may not rival an ivory tower a member of the genius society resides in. it is so high up that mundane troubles of those below can't reach a genius like him, surely? well, as tall as he stands - somehow, the universe grants you a front row seat for a particular sight that proves otherwise.
if only they knew the doctor has a habit of mumbling these incomprehensible (more like barely intelligible) grumbles under his breath, striking a resemblance similar to a grumpy old cat. if you strain your ears hard enough, you might catch a “...this has to be it...” or “...i dare not think so...” from time to time as he roams around the room with materials in his hands.
(absurd, people would say. but you think it's extremely cute.)
veritas doesn't say it out loud - but you can tell by the hunch in his stiff shoulders, by the one or two sighs he huffs every six minutes - that he is itching to tell somebody of all the tomfooleries he has encountered today. of course, the topics he laments about vary; it's only when you hear him exhaling the loudest sigh that you get to find out.
mostly though, it's about his students and remarks on how they can further improve their performance — sure, he could phrase it a little gentler — but you still find it sweet that he cares. if not that, then it'd be about indolent colleagues, complicated formulae and more. on some days, he'll even let out an exasperated “truly mind-boggling! could you believe that?” to which you'd reply with an “uh-huh, go on.”
at the end of a ranting session, veritas takes careful note to leave a kiss on your person afterward. no matter where it is - on the lips, the cheek or your hand. no matter where you are - sitting on the couch beside him, behind the kitchen counter or across the room. the warmth that stays on your skin when he pulls away is somewhat tingly. appreciative, you think, especially when he looks at you with such loving eyes that his colleagues would be sure to retch in shock if they were a witness.
looks like you are right on the money; he has never discarded his heart, after all. so yes, to rephrase - will you lend veritas a listening ear when he needs it?
✧ a moment among the stars:
“...yet another headache.”
as unsubtle as ever, the doctor's complaint is barely hidden behind the guise of a mumble. those neatly styled violet bangs of his aren't doing an excellent job at concealing that frown strewn across his forehead either. veritas's posture is tense, a dead giveaway, as he goes over the piles of documents on his desk.
you cock an eyebrow upon seeing the stamp belonging to the intelligentsia guild on one of the papers. definitely work. it has been two system hours since he took a seat at the work desk, you concur, or lifted a finger to do something besides flipping through drafts. a mere glance at the stack of documents is enough to convince you that those researchers at the guild must really value veritas's input.
a perk of being a genius, maybe? the phantom of a weight lands alight on your shoulders. with a mug of black coffee in hand, you make your way to him. your footsteps are without a sound, only the noise of porcelain being placed down onto woodenware is enough to announce your arrival. “rough day at work?” you ask, peering down at his progress.
(a doctor's handwriting really is something. you resist the urge to squint.)
veritas doesn't seem to mind. if the way he smiles at the sight of you, albeit tiredly, is any indication. “hah,” he rests a hand on his temple and scoffs wryly, “so much grievances like you wouldn't believe.”
oh, he is teetering on the precipice of a tangent but stops himself. “...fret not, i'm fine. this is hardly something beyond my expertise,” he shakes his head, the motion causing his reading glasses to slide down a smidgen down the bridge of his nose.
you're too familiar with the self-assured bravado he puts on. you're quite endeared, actually. “okay, mr. i-require-no-rest,” you take the glasses off his face and he breaks into a frown. at the childish tone you're using or for having his reading glasses taken away, you don't know.
“why don't you take a little break?” you suggest. veritas sighs, “need i remind you that dilly-dallying is for fools who wish to waste their time?” and crosses his arms defiantly. he knows your strategy, he has come face-to-face with it several times.
“do you think a break with me is a waste of time?” you present him with a rhetorical question, quite the difficult adversary.
(and he keeps losing to it every single time.)
“well, that's—” the doctor nearly splutters, taken aback. “that's different if you insist on inserting yourself as a variable,” he infers, putting emphasis on the last part accompanied by an incredulous look.
“the answer is up for debate then,” you shrug with a cheeky smile. your hand then deftly lifts the mug you previously set down to your lips, veritas's eyes dilate in bewilderment. “so,” you hum at the rich taste of your handiwork, “wanna tell me about your day? haven't heard about the council in a while.”
“you—” he gasps in defeat, “i thought that was supposed to be my mug of coffee.”
(he has a slight pout on his face, but you dare not point it out lest it disappears in the blink of an eye.)
“our mug of coffee,” you take a few more sips with an innocent decadence. “all is fair in love and war, doctor.”
“i can never win with you,” he buries his face in his palm with a groan. you laugh heartily, a sound that chimes like quaint little bells in his ears - it elicits a reaction from his lips, for them to quirk up at the corners in the smallest of ways.
“regardless. . .” veritas relents and reaches for your free hand. you let him. “it seems a break wouldn't be so amiss, after all,” he then presses a kiss on the side of your wrist, affectionate.
(your heart skips a beat.)
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will you let sunday regale you with facts you've never heard of before? . . . a man of eloquent words, no less a man of educated mind. you have no doubt that the books in the dewlight pavilion really aren't just there for show - not that you're allowed to browse through them at your own desire. a servant's voice would stop you in your tracks should your fingers ever brush against something in the family's secret bookshelf.
how mysterious.
but sunday makes it known to the staff that you, in particular, are allowed more access to the shelves - perhaps, not too much - but more than even mr. mccoy, at least. with the way you have to crane your neck far up to pinpoint the tallest height that the shelves reach, you wonder: has sunday gone through everything here personally?
your immediate answer is most likely. you know sunday fairly well; to have something that he hasn't scrutinized from the inside out in his possession will surely gnaw away at his psyche incessantly. not being in the know at all times is a looming fear for him. but of course, you have other ways to confirm the answer for yourself.
pick out a book from a shelf there, either intentional or purely arbitrary, and watch as sunday carefully traces his steps towards you. his curiosity is piqued, which topic has caught your interest this time? but he tucks it under proper cordiality. with a hand behind his back, he'd utter your name in the softest tone and ask the familiar question of “would you like to know more?” — asking for your permission to ramble, essentially — you find this tendency of his to be charming, so you nod each time.
(and he smiles when you do. a smile less refined at the edges, kinder and relaxed.)
the best place to start from is always the beginning. you think sunday agrees because he often starts by telling you the history and its origins before moving on to its impact on the galaxy, then his personal stance on the topic. it's a pattern, you notice, his ramblings have a pattern. and it's consistent every time, you might've believed he was reading off a script. and what's more? sunday is blissfully oblivious of it.
fascinating. you ponder: what kind of things you can do with this information? decisions, decisions, decisions. . . but ultimately, you opt for keeping it a secret like a treasure only you're allowed to see.
(that might be true in a way. you don't doubt that robin, his dear sister, is familiar with this side of him. does that mean he treasures you like he does her? your chest starts to feel a bit lighter.)
if you were to point it out, you fear you might never witness it again - goodness, to know that he has been displaying such foolishness or rather, what he viewed as an embarrassing freudian slip in front of you? his wings might as well resort to covering his face for good until the end of time.
as you listen to him talk (with such elegance at that), you can't help whatever tender look you have on your face. really, who would've thought the head of the oak family could be such. . . a nerd?
(you hope in secret that sunday will be more willing to show sides like these to you in the future. and that they're not a weakness at all, not when they're shared with you.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“it looks like you're fascinated by the dreamscape nursery rhyme this time.”
sunday spares the article in your hold no further inspection. one glance at the cover and walls of memorized information rush to the front of his mind. he looks familiar with it; could it be a part of his childhood too? but then again, everything found here is within his knowledge.
“i am,” you say with intrigue, “it got me ruminating for a while.”
you meet his gaze, stumbling upon yellow irises that glimmer akin to gold under penaconian chandeliers. you think you see a hint of affection in them, swimming around your reflection like a school of fish in a pond. it makes you smile.
he smiles back, oblivious to your thoughts but returns your gesture. he asks, “how so?” and you reply without delay, “i read through it and the morbid undertone took me by surpri—”
or at least, it's supposed to be without delay until you realize sunday has stepped closer in order to peer down at the page you're holding open. and suddenly, you're extremely aware of every minute detail like how his breath brushes against the side of your cheek and how his chest rumbles as he hums in acknowledgement.
(you flush in the neck and he perceives this reaction of yours with mirth.)
“my apologies,” sunday chuckles and pulls away, “i've simply forgotten the rhyme and wished to refresh my memory.”
“somehow, i feel that isn't the case...” you mumble accusingly. that seems to amplify whatever little amusement he gets from flustering you. “oh, my dove. i can assure you that it is,” he caresses your head, a little placatingly.
most times, sunday isn't so laidback about giving affection in public — since he has an image to maintain — so you assume the fact that the servants are out and about, leaving only you and him here, plays a role in his unusual boldness. you accept the gesture with a bashful pout.
“now, where were we?” sunday clears his throat, “ah, yes. some people have noted on the nursery rhyme's strange quality but still, it retains its popularity in penacony. it is also widely assumed that the hound resembles the bloodhound family while—”
you hold back an amused sigh, but it's more out of fondness than anything. he'll start from the history then the effect on the general public, as per usual, but you're not the only predictable one here. you'd listen to him anytime too, won't you?
(you do adore when the head of the oak family would put off his public figure mask around you. if only for just a while.)
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will you let dan heng rest his head on your lap when it's just you two? . . . the sense of comfort it provides isn't something he can explain with words. as if he has ever been good with words in the first place. saying a sentence bereft of logical reasoning or witty remarks doesn't come easily to the express’ guard. neither does intimacy. . . but you know that already, don't you?
after all, it isn't a secret that dan heng prefers speaking with his actions. if to show one's intentions is the end goal, then actions are the fastest route to choose. words, although able to sweeten the trip like how a beautiful scenery can, will eventually lead to actions regardless so why take the extra step?
but you're different from him; you articulate what you think and what you mean. you're honest in ways that keep catching dan heng off guard without fail — just like the first time you offered your empty lap to him when his head was swirling in pain — but he supposes that is one of your charms. “words can be useful. we're not all born mind readers,” you told him once and he hummed, accepting of your perspective.
(“look at you two! opposites attract!” march chirped. he recalled shooting her a look of indignation and she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly in response.)
dan heng has learnt to grow used to your propensities - but by far, your shameless invitations are still one matter that can't be comprehended even with time. he cannot understand; how you smile as you sit on his futon in the archives (he doesn't mind), how you link gazes with him so effortlessly, how you pat your lap knowingly and say, “why don't you rest your head here?”
(he has to restrain himself from bursting into flames like a heliobus.)
sometimes, he'll accept reluctantly or he'll decline with an underlying tone of longing he doesn't want you to notice. because as much of a good hold dan heng has on nonchalance, he cannot deny that this particular gesture of yours has left a mark on him.
(it remains persistently.)
when he rests his head on your lap, he can't help but take a deep inhale - your fragrance fills his senses and he discards the selfish desire to keep it all to himself. your fingers are soothing as they thread through his hair gently. the feeling that washes over him is serene, almost comparable to submerging himself in the pure waters of scalegorge waterscape.
when overcome by such a tranquil state of mind, dan heng wonders what expression he might be making at that moment? he always keeps his eyes closed, so it's a shame he may never know. but you do, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so at peace before like he does now.
(perhaps, that's why you keep offering him this in the first place.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“someone looks tired,” you state with a pointed stare. the archives isn't a room too spacious and the only ones here are you and him. the target of your sentence is obvious.
but dan heng doesn't take the bait, barely looks away from the entry he is currently authoring. still, he spares you a glance and hums glibly, “are you projecting? if so, feel free to use my bed in the meantime.”
you let out a noise, something gibberish that conveys disappointment but it is effectively drowned out by the typing noises. “you haven't even touched the food i bought you,” your voice becomes mellow, “why don't you rest for a while?”
he isn't convinced, you think, since his fingers are still hard at work. the new info the team brought back must've been a lot if he's that focused.
“dan heng?” you try again, hopeful for the last time. you don't take him for a fool, of course, he'll know when he reaches his limit and have proper rest then. but would that really be ideal? a second passes and that hope flickers like a dimming light. but just an inch before the edge of giving up, the typing slows to a stop.
“. . .alright,” he murmurs. finally, after a good hour spent drawing patterns on his backside with your eyes, dan heng turns around to face you. he look tense, you note with abject concern.
“here,” you usher him to your lap, empty and conveniently so. dan heng shoots you a blank look - this isn't the first time you offered and this isn't the first time he reacted like that. you try to suppress a laugh, failing gloriously at it. “just for a little bit,” you utter through a stifled fit of chuckles.
dan heng shakes his head, not in rejection but in defeat. his eyes slip close, second nature, as he leans to situate his head on your lap. you welcome him with a hum and let your fingers card through his hair. a calm sigh falls from his lips like a water droplet in springtime.
“this. . . is nice,” he admits, sudden and unprompted. you nearly doubt your ears for a moment there. did he— “i don't hate it is, uhm, what i mean to say,” dan heng adds and it dawns on you that your ears are still working. his eyes are still closed, not that you'd expect anything else, he prefers to treat it as a shield from being face-to-face with embarrassment.
(or to avoid your ecstatic gaze. he can feel warmth rushing to his cheeks already.)
“i know,” you smile, brushing away a few messy strands from his forehead. he isn't an open book but you think you've read the pages enough to remember all the little details. “but thanks for telling me. i'm no mind reader but i think i can read yours pretty well.”
“i shall provide no further comment,” he holds back an incredulous exhale, yet his lips still curl slightly at the corner. you feel the teeniest desire to trace the curve of his lips with your fingertip but settle for silently admiring them instead.
“it's fine. i know the answer already,” you say, words dripping with affection. such a shame dan heng never looks up at you during a time like this. because if he did, he wouldn't have missed seeing the sheer fondness in your gaze that rains down on him in light showers. a true shame.
(one day, he'll gather the courage. maybe.)
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— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. ♡
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humbuns · 1 day
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hits them with the yuri beam
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bandgie · 3 days
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what would stray kids' "we shouldn’t be doing this" sex situation be??
MDNI 18+ | step/incest themes (individual warnings), age gap, oral (f!), fem!reader, I prolly missed some tbh
chan! (tw: step)
something about him screams step-dad. you're not home too much cuz you're already older by the time your mom remarries, but whenever you do swing by, your step dad is more than eager to cook, to clean, to show that he's a good husband...for your mom ofc. but the air thickens and you both start growing more bold. you come more often, making sure to bend lower enough for chan to catch a sight of your panties. he never makes a move though, not until the inevitable divorce papers are served. then he's a little more receptive to your advances, but ofc, he has some morals left
"Wait! I know your mom and I are getting a divorce, but that doesn't mean-" Chan shuts up real quick at the feel of your hand lowering, cupping his bugle and kissing his neck. "Shh, weren't you trying so hard to be my daddy before? You can be that now."
minho! (tw: age gap)
dad's best friend. older, hotter, flirty. he honestly has little to no shame when it comes to teasing you. if anything, it's you telling him that you can't do this, that it's wrong, but gosh it just feels so good. your friends tell you about the sexual experience older men have and it only tempts you more to give into Minho's advances. the furthest you've gone is light touching, his gentle kisses to your bare shoulder when you get out of the pool. but honestly, he's just so charming, it's only a matter of time before you're under him
If you don't get his cock soon, you think you'll cum just from his fingers. Minho's got two digits fucking into you, his thumb swirling your clit while he lavishes your nipple with his tongue. You whine, throwing your head back and arching upwards. "Minho! Minho, my dad-" but a harsh bite on your swollen bud makes you yelp. Minho briefly picks up his head, "You're dad's downstairs. You should be quiet before he hears us."
changbin!
he's your ex. you come across him at one the parties your university throws and you swore to yourself that you'd never get involved with frat boys again, but he just looks so good. big arms crossing his chest, black jeans on his thick thighs (and thick cock) with a red solo cup in his hand. you keep reminding yourself that he's not worth it. it would be so stereotypical to hook up in a someone's house you don't know, but once he sees you it's pretty much settled.
"Come on, you know you miss it," his words are like butter, and truthfully you do miss it. You miss how his thick fingers wrapped around your neck, how his fat cock stretched your pussy. But still, you're prideful, "As if. I shouldn't even doing this shit with you." Rather than his little smirk disappearing, it widens. "Who are you tryna convince? Me or you?"
hyunjin!
you're his art teacher. he's super talented, super dedicated to his craft and you constantly praise him for it. as true as that is, you also love seeing his smile and dimples. you have yet to admit that you find your student attractive, but you can at least acknowledge that he makes your job a little bit better. it's when he comes in for your office hours that you finally have to come to terms with your true emotions. you think you can keep professional, but hyunjin's set on letting you know how he feels.
"Hyunjin...you know we can't," but your words fall on deaf ears. Hyunjin pushes a loose strand from your face, cupping your cheek in the process. "Why not? Is there something wrong with me?" He sounds so desperate, so sincere. You have to swallow your desires but you can't push his hand away. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong with you." He leans past you, brushing his plump lips over the shell of your ear. "Then let me touch you one time. Let me show you how much you mean to me just once."
han! (tw:incest)
icky brother for sure. older brother to be specific. you always thought it was normal for siblings to be as close as you are, to kiss when either of you are stressed, to go on outings that usually end in more kissing on the ride back home. but, of course, you realize that his affection is twisted, and you cut off contact with him and the rest of your family. even then...it's really hard to move on, especially when he shows up to your master's graduation.
"I said I never want to see you again." You try to sound strong, but your voice shakes. He's crying too, as if he isn't the reason you guys can't have a normal relationship. More tears fall, more apologies are spoken, but you can't say no when he begs for those little kisses that always make you guys feel better. You can't say no when you finally give your body to your brother like a good little sister.
felix!
brother's best-friends trope. you grew up besides him and you've always had a little thing for him, but he hardly noticed. you guys age, and you've totally given up on your little crush. but when felix is invited to an overnight cabin with your family, it's hard to ignore that reignited flame in your stomach. ignoring him is probably your best plan, but felix is just too friendly to really understand that you don't want to talk to him. you decide you should show him exactly why you should stay away
Felix's eyes are wide, filled with uncertainty, fear, but he can't help the excitement that bubbles in his stomach when you rip your shirt off. "I- I don't think this is a good idea! Your family's upstairs and your brother will kill me." You can practically see his heart jumping from his chest. To calm him, you crawl on the bed to where he is and place a gentle, but firm kiss to his lips. He whines, shaking as he cups your face in his small hands. "And if you don't fuck me," you pull away to look into his eyes. "I'll kill you."
seungmin!
he's your boss, and you're his secretary. since you're pretty much forced to be with him at all times, you know how he handles his anger when the company isn't doing as well as he wants. It usually involves drinking and working overtime, but this particular night has him restless. since your a great worker, you stay overtime with him, helping on what you can and making sure his coffee is always filled. but when the lack of sleep starts to get to his head, he starts acting a little...weird.
Mr. Kim hasn't dismissed you yet. If anything, he beckons you closer with a finger. You obey, following his every instruction until you're bent over his desk, skirt lifted up with your panties to the side as his warm tongue licks up your pussy. "The cameras," you moan out. "We'll get caught. Mr. Kim, you'll get fired." But he doesn't care. He's so stressed, too tired that he needs something to keep him awake. You can't help but feel pity, so you lay pliant on the desk while he laps your cunt.
jeongin!
he's an idol helping out the trainees. he's super professional, a great dancer, and an amazing teacher. really supportive and gives helpful feedback. it's super dumb, but totally expected for a trainee to fall for their instructor, or in this case, an idol. you know better of course, his image matters a lot. you don't want to risk anything for him. but it's hard to not feel anything when he stays extra hours with you to get a routine down. both of you are tired, both of you are exhausted. neither of you are thinking clearly when jeongin grabs your hips as a means to help your posture, but it leads to something totally different
The practice room is filled with wet slapping and messy kisses. Jeongin eyes are hooded, a darkness covering him as he looks down at you. Your breasts bounce at the force of his thrusts and you grab them for support. "Jeongin. Innie, the sun's gonna come up. Your leader-" But he covers your mouth with his large palm. He's chasing his high, coxing an intense orgasm that he can't bother to care about your worries. "Just shut up and let me finish."
my fav's seungmins tbh (and maybe hannie :p)
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mirohlayo · 2 days
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🍓❝ you know i love and care about you, right? ❞ with lando <3
LET ME SHOW YOU
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( maybe you're insecure, but that will never bother Lando, since it's a way to remind you how much he loves you. )
warning : insecurities, fluff
word count : 1.1k
You're not the type to be jealous or insecure. Especially not about your boyfriend. You trust him with all your heart, you can never blame him for anything because he is simply perfect. Adorable and perfect.
And yet, here you are in this situation. It had become usual for everyone now, to see Lando alongside beautiful models. Pretty women, with perfect and angelic faces, elegant posture and careful gestures. Even more so when he was partying.
You didn't see any problem with it. Since after all, Lando always made you feel like the most beautiful woman, Lando always reassured you that he only had eyes for you. And you know, you can't deny a fact that is true.
But seeing him constantly surrounded by these models was perhaps something that saddened you today. So, you locked yourself in your hotel room, while Lando continued to test the car on the track. He asked you about your health, if you were okay, but you just said you were tired.
Sometimes you would glance at Instagram, instantly regretting opening the app the second different posts of Lando alongside these girls popped up. You couldn't stand this.
It's probably toxic and unhealthy, but you can't help but feel insecure. After all, who wouldn't want a rich and handsome Formula 1 driver? Especially when that meme man is a lovable personality.
The day passed slowly. You heard the distant sound of the Formula 1 engines, thinking of Lando who was driving one of them. You regretted the moment he returned to the hotel. You didn't want to appear so weak and insecure in front of him, knowing that this isn't the first time you've talked about it.
But yet, despite your complexes, despite the fact that you felt apart, Lando was always there to comfort you about your relationship.
“Hello, sweetheart.” The day is over, since you yourself are surprised to see Lando standing in front of you. You try as best you can to come back to reality, giving your lover a weak smile. “Ooh my baby, I missed you so much”. His body collapses onto yours, as he nestles his head in the crook of your neck.
You delicately stroke his curly hair, while he snuggles a little closer to you. “I missed you too, Lan.” “Of course you missed me, you stayed at the hotel all day.” A silence settles in, you didn't really know what to answer. You didn't want to tell him about your insecurities.
"Sorry. I don't like leaving you alone on the track." He lifts his head slightly, just enough for his eyes to meet yours. "Don't apologize, baby. You needed some rest." His lips press against yours, gently, delicately.
You already feel better, just from this simple kiss. It's unfair the way he manages to console you, to comfort you just by his simple presence. "I've been thinking about you all day. Even when I was in the car." His voice is muffled since his face is still hidden in the crook of your neck.
Still, it makes you smile. “You can’t do without me Lando.” You giggle slowly, while you feel a smile appear on his face. "Absolutely, I'm obsessed with you. Maybe a little too much... Fuck, I love you so much princess." A soft laugh escapes his throat as his arms wrap a little tighter around you.
But these words are enough to make you cry. Of joy, of sadness? You don't really know, but on the other hand you know that Lando's sincerity is the source of your tears. Because even without being aware of your insecurities, he manages to make them go away. To chase them away.
He always knew how to make you feel special and unique, make you feel his. Through his words and actions, he always showed only love and tenderness towards you. And even without talking about your problems, he manages to solve them with a snap of his fingers, thanks to his way of showing his affection.
Your wet tears fall on his hair, running down his neck. He senses that something is wrong, and suddenly raises his head to look at you. His face falls as he searches your face and your gaze for an answer.
"Oh my baby. Why are you crying?" He sweeps the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, cupping your face in the process. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your sobs. His lips place soft, long kisses on your face, while he gives you time to find your words.
“Take your time, princess. I’m here with you, I won’t leave.” You smile weakly at him as your tears fall once again. "I know it's childish, Lan but-" "Hey, don't ever say that again. Your problems aren't childish, you have the right to feel how you feel." He cuts you off, an expression of displeasure displayed on his face.
You nod slowly, sniffling otherwise. "I'm just... it annoys me a little to see you surrounded by pretty girls and models. I know we've talked about this before and it's something I need to work on with myself... “He encourages you to continue, gently caressing your cheeks.
"But I still feel a little insecure about it. I know you love me and I trust you, but sometimes it makes me insecure. I'm just afraid you'll find someone better than me." Lando's lips seem to curl down, to the point where his face resembles that of a puppy.
“Oh my baby girl.” He doesn't wait a second before kissing you languorously, his hands anchored on your cheeks, caressing them ever so gently. He pulls back, a soothing smile plastered on his lips. "How could I find anyone better than you? You are the very definition of the girl of my dreams."
You can't help but roll your eyes as a smile takes over. Which makes Lando smile more. “I only have you in my thoughts, my dreams and my heart. Only you my girl”. He kisses you lightly again, not being able to stop himself from smiling.
His eyes admire you as if you were the most beautiful thing on earth. Which is totally the case for him. “You know I love and care about you, right?” He leans down again to kiss the tip of your nose, as you nod eagerly. “I love you so much, Lan. I’m so in love with you.” You can only say these words in a low whisper.
His eyes crinkle into another smile, a most affectionate smile. “Then let me show you how much I am in love with you too, pretty girl”. And without further ado, he doesn't hesitate to cover your entire face with thousands and thousands of kisses.
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moondirti · 1 day
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Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!
My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.
Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?
What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?
Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.
Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?
Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!
shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev
cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.
Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.
Or even understand, really.
Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...
You don't mind it.
But you still don't like him.
It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.
That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.
Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.
You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–
The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.
But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.
Things only get worse from there.
"An' where d'you think you're going?"
You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.
If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.
"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.
But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.
And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.
"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."
He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.
"Where are you going with this?"
Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.
"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"
"N-No–"
"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"
"Yes. Yes but–"
"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."
Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.
Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.
That cruel fuck.
"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."
Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.
As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.
"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."
"Si–"
He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.
"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."
You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.
"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."
You make it one block before hightailing back home.
Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.
You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.
But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.
You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.
Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.
Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.
Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.
"Miss me 'lready?"
A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.
The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.
Good dick be damned.
But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.
Account does not exist.
Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.
So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.
It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–
Account does not exist.
Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.
Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.
And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.
It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.
"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."
"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.
"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"
You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.
The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.
And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.
You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.
Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.
Just as Simon barges into your room.
You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.
But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.
"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.
Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.
(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)
That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.
You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.
"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."
"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.
He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.
If anything, he's the stray.
"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."
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bogleech · 2 days
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Media characters, especially women, skew heavily towards a narrow ideal of attractiveness, we all know that and the rebellion against that is understandable, but Tumblr still seems to have no idea what's "realistic" vs "unrealistic" in that regard. I see human beings at any regular grocery trip whose bodies would have been redlined as impossible by an art blog. Clothing too. "Real clothes don't hug people's curves that much!!!" say countless guides. Yeah they can actually. All the time. The full blown boobsock effect happens. I see buff dudes walking around whose abs can be counted through their shirt. If someone isn't wearing underwear, shit bounces around just as much as the average anime, and yes people definitely do walk around with wedgies perfectly outlining each ass cheek. You don't have to go out of your way and stare to notice this, just like, go places where people exist? Some artists have just really gotta quit conflating "I just don't like that this artist could have maybe been horny about this" (which isn't a great sentiment to begin with) with "this is actually bad and sloppy art."
The actual unrealistic and shitty part was always more the implicit suggestion that only young and skinny people are sexy, and that women always need to be sexy if you're meant to like them. That's what really made it weird.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Birthday II
Hardersson x Baby!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: It's your first birthday
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Morsa is living in the phone again.
She's a lot smaller when she lives in the phone than when she lives with you and Momma. You think that's kind of weird but there's some cake sitting in front of you so you don't dwell on it for too long.
Today is a special day apparently.
Today is the day that Morsa is supposed to be visiting. It's your birthday too but you're more focused on the first thing rather than the fact that you're getting older now.
Morsa is meant to be coming today but she isn't here yet and now she's stuck in the phone again.
"And here's the birthday girl," Momma says to her," She's about to enjoy her cake."
You look down at your slice of cake. You don't get given cake a lot, especially not fancy cake that has writing and pictures on the top. You don't really care about the stuff on top but you know the cake is fancy because it's there.
You grab a chunk of cake in your fist and raised it to your mouth.
It tastes really nice and you grab more.
"Birthday girl looks very happy," Morsa comments," Is that right? Are you enjoying your cake, princesse?"
You grunt as you shove cake into your mouth.
"She's very much enjoying it," Momma agrees," Birthday girl got spoiled a lot today."
"I'm glad. I'm sorry I couldn't be there."
A match late last evening had Magda unable to fly out yesterday night. She'd booked an early morning flight today, hoping that it meant she could still spend your first birthday with you without missing much.
But she'd gotten to the airport and found her plane delayed. There was no eta and it kept getting pushed back further and further to the point where Magda has to spend your birthday on the phone rather than in person.
The presents in her carry-on feel like weights as she watches you shovel more and more cake into your mouth until your plate is empty.
You're sitting up in your high chair with a beaming smile in a tiny Wolfsburg kit that Magda knows was given as a present to you. A big birthday badge is clipped to the jersey and a discarded birthday hat is sat on the tray next to your now empty cake plate.
It makes her heart ache thinking about how much of this she's missing.
It's just not the same seeing it all through a phone screen.
"My flight should be taking off in a few hours," She tells Pernille as you entertain yourself by picking up the birthday hat and shaking it," I'll probably get to yours around midnight."
She can't see Pernille with the camera on you but Magda's sure she's frowning.
"We can pick you up from the airport," She says," You don't need to get here on your own."
"It'll be too late for Princesse. She still needs sleep."
"Are you sure? I don't mind. She'll fall asleep in the car anyway."
"I'm sure," Magda insists," It's fine. I've got keys. I'll let myself in."
You drop the birthday hat and pout.
"Oh," Pernille chuckles," What's with the long face, princesse? Did you drop your hat?"
You kick your legs impatiently and point at it, whining. You look like you're about to whine more but Pernille places another slice of cake in front of you and suddenly you're distracted again.
You cram as much cake possible into your mouth, smearing your face with crumbs.
The cake is nice but you do feel a little bit cheated. Momma woke you up this morning saying that Morsa would be here to celebrate with you both but it's rapidly approaching bath and bedtime and she's nowhere to be seen.
That's a little mean of her.
It's even meaner of Momma to put you down in your crib and make you sleep before Morsa got here. They're both quite mean today even though it's your birthday and people should be nice to you when it's your birthday.
You wake up the next day ready to let your displeasure at being lied to known to Momma when she comes to grab you.
You don't get the chance to though because someone lifts you out of your crib with a smile and a soft voice.
"What's with the pouty face?" Morsa coos," Is being a one year old really that bad?"
For a moment, in your sleepy haze, you don't recognise her, a big pout and a grumpy look upon your features. Slowly, you blink awake fully and your pout morphs into a big happy smile.
"There she is," Morsa says," There's my happy baby! Look at you, my happy little one year old."
Your legs kick out as Morsa presses soft, ticklish kisses all over your face.
"I'm sorry I missed your birthday, princesse but I brought presents!"
You know that word. After yesterday, you've decided that you really like presents.
You hope Morsa's brought you some good ones.
You giggle.
"Yeah?" Morsa says," You like that? I've got lots of presents for you to open!"
486 notes · View notes
lovifie · 2 days
Text
141 Task Force Men and what piece of clothing they would steal.
(No smutty, just these fine gentlemen being little rats that steal your clothes)
Price💸
First of all, he would steal everything.
Especially if you lived together.
"What do you mean I can't grab your jacket to go buy some bread? Bla, bla, bla. I'll be back before you miss it."
"Oh, these are your socks? I was wondering when I had bought such bright colour ones."
"Why are you wearing my raincoat, John?" "Excuse me? Is mine!" "No, it's not!!"
In his mind, if he is planning to share his life with you, it simply makes sense for him to share everything else.
But there is something he is stealing over everything else, and those are booty shorts.
My man is overheating in this global warmed world, and he is looking on his closest for some shorts when he stumbles upon your booty shorts.
They are ridiculously short, basically legalized underwear he can wear outside; but this is the coolest he has felt since summer started, so he isn't stopping.
After all, who is going to tell the military captain what to wear?
Plus, when you wake up in the morning you are greeted by him in the kitchen making coffee and booty shorts with "juicy" written on them.
Extra: The two of you have an extensive collection of hats, that he technically doesn't steal from because it's shared.
Extra x2: He owns the "Woman want me, Fish fear me."
Ghost 💀
Your sweaters
It all started the first night he went to your house.
He was wearing a leather jacket, and although he looked illegally hot; it was obvious it was not the comfiest jacket to be chilling ii.
So you offered him your fave sweater, a massive one that could almost work as a blanket.
At first, he rejects your offer, afraid that it will be itchy and he will offend you; but his complaints get shut when you ask him to please feel it.
Instantly tries it own, the massive sweater looking loose on his as well. The image of the behemoth of a man, all black, balaclava (no mask) still on... And the fluffiest sweater on melting your heart.
The next time he visited your house he didn't even wait for you to open the door before taking his jacket off: "....can I put on your sweater?"
They are kind of his guilty pleasure, he would never admit how much he likes them and even less to other person but you.
But you only need to see how he buries himself on the sweater when he sits down on the sofa.
If he was amazing to cuddle with before, now it's even better.
Extra: I also like to think of him having a random ear piercing, and whenever he wears just the surgical mask or no mask in general; he would steal one of your dangling earrings to wear. Playing with it throughout the whole night out.
Soap 🧼
Baby tees
Every single one of them.
He keeps saying they make their muscles look amazing (they do)
He likes the ones with drawings or photos, but his favourites are the ones with texts.
Cue to him wearing tight ass shirts saying such as: "Small tits, big heart", "I got my clit pierced at Claire's" or "Don't bully me, I'll cum :("
You don't even remember why you bought them, mostly they are gifts from Secret Santa but you are so, so glad they found their way to your closet.
He wears them proudly, not even realising the stares.
When you go online shopping he's always cuddling on your side, leaving one of your arms useless with the way he cuddles it.
If he sees a tee he likes he just makes you stop scrolling and add it to the basket like: "It'll look good in you too."
There is also a small collection of them, the ones you genuinely like that don't let him wear. Not after he put one on, started flexing his arms and back and ripped it.
Just staring at you with guilt on his eyes and his tits out.
Gaz ⛽
Your shirts.
The ugliest, most colourful, eye-sore, extravagant shirt that you might own? He's taking them.
You are cleaning your closet one day and you pull out an offense to your eyes, mumbling about what where you thinking when you bought it and Gaz sees it and is like: °o°
He's taking it.
Getting ready for a costume party, you decide to dress up as Master Roshi from Dragon Ball (fake beard and everything) but you are missing the ugly shirt.
You remember seeing it not too long ago in your closet but you can't find it. So you ask your boyfriend.
And you find him wearing it, spraying cologne on telling you that he is also going out with his mates and asking how do you look.
Little shit does pull it off, so you don't lie when you tell him he looks fantastic.
You still have plenty of ugly shirts for your costume.
Extra: He would steal all your jewerly, rings, bracelets, necklaces, you name it. Just little bits all over his outfit; "It signs the deal, babe." They do.
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Extra x2: He is always waiting for somebody to compliment any of your things he is wearing to have an excuse to talk about you, Soap is tired of hearing him mumble about you whenever he drinks.
@crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z  
@lyralein @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @dumb12bvtch1212
@thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock  
@arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk
@reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat  
@lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw
@rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting
@dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708
@katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129
@idk-justkane @shanhalen @mikaronn @thatoneslvt @crinoid90
523 notes · View notes
changisworld · 2 days
Text
“Why do you make me feel like this, pretty?”
fuckboy!hyunjin x reader
Word count; 5,902
Summary: After hyunjin took your virginity, you grew attached despite trying your hardest not to. You find out he hooked up with someone the day after it happened which broke your heart, making you cry.. but of course, hyunjin caught you crying. He didn’t really know what he felt, it being new to him, as he tries to refuse the silly ideas popping into his brain, he can’t ignore how much you being upset is making his heart.. hurt?? Surely he doesn’t like you too..?
18+ ONLY, MDNI, SMUT UNDER THE CUT.
©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.
main masterlist here
part 1 here
**This can be read on its own despite it probably being confusing but i highly recommend reading part 1!**
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SMUT WARNINGS: spit/drool, PIV, needy reader, pet names, shyish reader, rimming( f rec), oral ( f rec), fingering (f rec), finger sucking, unprotected sex, jealous jinnie, edging???,pull out method, literally 1 spank, slight dacryphilia, jealous jinnie, soft jinnie, kind jinnie, hyunjins a tease obvs, slight aftercare, wayyy fluffier ending than last time you're welcome!!
You & Hyunjin walk off campus, you still hiding your face from him, embarrassed at the tears now staining your cheeks, your face tinged red, you also don't fail to miss the looks you & Hyunjin are receiving from other students walking past the both of you, his arm still around you & you can't help but feel judged, so you push his arm off.
"Forget the cafe, I'm just gonna go home, I feel.. sick. I'll see you later Hyunjin." you murmur, still not looking at him in the eye.
"Y/n stop being weird, just cmon. I promise to cheer you up." He replies back, reaching out to cup your cheek but you move your head before murmuring a quick 'bye' before walking away from him hastily, leaving him standing there, confused & a bit annoyed.
He watches as you turn the corner & he huffs before kicking a stone nearby. 'Why do I care she's actually upset? 'What did I do wrong?' 'I hope she's okay' & 'Shit how can I apologise' are all thoughts that race through his head, no matter how much he tries to shake it all off, he genuinely feels guilty. But why? He never feels sorry for the girls he fucks n chucks, so what makes it different? He barely even knows you? He only spoke to you for a week which is barely anything. He sighs before pulling out his phone & going onto his contacts, about to call Joy, another one of his side things, before deciding against it, instead calling his friend Jisung& asking to meet him.
⭑・゚゚・:༅。.。༅:゚::✼✿  ✿✼:゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
Twenty minutes later Jisung meets him at the local dog walking park & they end up sitting on a bench, talking about random stuff before the topic of you comes up, but not because of Hyunjin.
“You’re lucky you got to partner up with y/n for that assignment, I got put with Changbin so obviously i fucking failed, tryna do that presentation on the spot was absolute torture, you still talk to her? she seems quiet as hell.” Han sighs, sipping his bubble tea through his straw & Hyunjin laughs.
“Ay! I actually helped her so shut up, just because you both have no more than eight brain cells, i’m just proof there is such a thing as looks & beauty. Nah, we haven’t really spoken since, just been busy i suppose & what the hell am i meant to say to her?” Hyunjin replies, a quick chuckle leaving his lips.
“What do you mean you’re proof that looks n beauty exist, y/n basically invented it you idiot. Wha'cha mean what are you meant to say to her? Did you fuck her too or something?" Han questions, leaning forward.
Hyunjin just kisses his teeth before nodding & Han just raises his eyebrows. "fuck, I didn't think someone like y/n would get around that way. Can you do me a favour n start speaking to her again n put in a good word about me I wanna approach her but she feels intimidating, you get me?" Once Hyunjin hears these words, a bad & gross feeling bubbles up in his stomach.. is what he feeling... jealousy?
"Uhh.. you're really not her type, she's not up for dating, she told me. Go try your luck with someone else." Hyunjin says in a bitter tone, not looking at the man in front of him & Han scoffs.
"You chat shit Hyunjin, stop gatekeeping! I'll just use my charms & trust me, we'll be fucking a week later n dating two weeks later." Jisung jokes, patting Hyunjins leg but he pushes it off.
"You're ridiculous Jisung, she won't want what's between your legs." Hyunjin spits out before standing up off the bench, stretching out & sighing. "I have things to do, you can keep day dreaming, I'll see you later. choke on your boba." Hyunjin jokes with Han & he spits out a bubble as a response before he walks away, leaving Han on the bench.
⭑・゚゚・:༅。.。༅:゚::✼✿  ✿✼:゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
He walks through the rest of the park, thinking about Hans words & he can't get over it. 'Why am I so jealous?' 'Who does he honestly think he is talking about y/n like that?' 'They wouldn't even look good together.' are things that keep racing through his head & he is getting more pissed off as the seconds go by.
He gets out of the park & he keeps walking on the pavement, not having an actual destination in mind.. until he seen you walking out of a random convenience store across the street & a lightbulb lights up behind his brown eyes.
He picks up the pace of his walk as he follows just far enough behind you on the other side of the road until you reach your apartment complex before entering & he can't help but feel like an absolute creep, but that doesn't stop him. He screenshots his location on find my Iphone, just so he won't forget where to go later on as he walks back the way he came, heading to the main line of shops near the campus.
He strolls around for around twenty minutes, looking at random little trinkets, bookmarks with the college logo on it, which he cringes at due to the look of it, before he keeps walking until he reaches a little florist shop.
He enters it, aimlessly walking around, fingertips grazing over a few roses & tulips, admiring the pretty colours as he sets his eyes on a bouquet of lillies. He picks it up, giving himself a better look at it before deciding he is happy with it, heading to the counter.
He places them down, not paying attention to the cashier as he looks at the little vases beside the register.
"Can I get this pink vase to- ohh, I didn't know you worked here Jennie, hiya." he says, surprised. "Sure. You know, Lisa doesn't like lillies, I suggest you get her daffodils, her favourite colour being yellow n all." she responds, smiling up at him. "Ah, they.. they're not for Lisa so I'll pass. Can you fill up the vase with a bit of water too? I think that's what you're supposed to do, right?" he says quickly, hand coming up to the back of his neck, the awkwardness filling the small space.
"mhmm. £29.11 is the total." She says in a cold voice, taking the tag off the vase as she turns around to the small sink, filling up the vase 1/3 of the way. She dumps the bouquet in the vase with no care at all before pushing it towards him, giving him the card machine. He pays, a strained, awkward smile on his face before saying thank you & leaving.
⭑・゚゚・:༅。.。༅:゚::✼✿  ✿✼:゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
After buying you a box of chocolates & a Vanilla bean smelling candle & following the path you walked on earlier, he ends up back outside your apartment complex.
He sits on the front steps, waiting for someone to leave the building so he can catch the door & once he is inside, he begins knocking on every door, talking to each person who answers in a quiet voice, Ignoring the confused looks of other students who recognise him who are all definitely wondering why he is knocking doors looking for you, making sure you wouldn't hear him & then refuse to open the door.
He reaches the fourth floor, mouth slightly dry from all the talking he has had to do & he is beginning to doubt his memory. He knocks on the third door & takes a step back, waiting for an answer as he hears footsteps & he can't help the smile that spreads across his face as you are the one who open the door.
"Surprise, & I'm not just talking about my pretty face. Can I come in?" he chirps as he raises his arms, making sure you see what he has brought despite it being almost all you can see, not missing the chance to give you an up & down look, you wearing black tight shorts & an oversized off the shoulder graphic shirt.
"Hyunjin, I told you I was sick.. How the hell do you know where I live?" you question, honestly just confused. "Does that matter? I asked a question, Don't leave me standing here I went to like twenty doors to find you!" he pouts. You roll your eyes & begin to shut the door but Hyunjin stops it with his foot.
"Okay okay okay! I followed you, but not in a creepy way I swear! I just wanted to.. apologise? But I knew you would ghost me If I text you." he says in a sulky voice. You groan before opening the door back open, his pretty face poking through the gap. "You are a creep, you know that? Why you apologising?" you question him, crossing your arms, not amused but slightly flattered despite not showing it.
"I'm not going to broadcast my deep, heart warming words in the corridor for everyone to hear, just let me inside, pleaseee." he pouts again & you just sigh before moving out of the way so he can enter, taking his shoes off as soon as they touch your laminate flooring.
You walk into your connected living room & kitchen before sitting on your corner kitchen counter, your legs swinging off it as Hyunjin follows behind you, looking around at the cute random decorations hung up on your walls & on the mantle pieces.
He places the flowers on your coffee table before walking back into your small kitchen & leaning on the opposite counter top, still holding the chocolates & candle.
"Okay, Can I give you my apology now? I rehearsed this to make sure I get everything right." He tries to joke but you just look at him with a blank expression before nodding, encouraging him to continue. "Okay, I didn't realise how much I've upset you & I'm sorry for not trying to check up on you sooner & stopped speaking to you. I partially didn't even mean to ghost you but I also genuinely thought you wouldn't speak to me anymore since you're always so concentrated on lessons & studying, I thought you would have thought I was getting in your way. I'm also sorry for fucking with that girl & you overheard it, if I'm genuinely being honest, I did it to try wipe my mind of you. I know what we did is a huge thing & it was wrong of me to have acted the way I did, if i'm being honest, this was the first time I did what we did so I just didn't really know how to act, but I'm genuinely sorry y/n. Chocolates?"
He blurts out, not taking his eyes off you as he feels his cheeks go hot, the nerves & also the way you're looking at him making him flustered. You both sit in silence for a minute, him waiting for a response & you thinking of a response.
"Gimme the box & light the candle for me, second drawer to your right n you will find a lighter. If you felt like this all week, You've still had seven days to come n tell me this but instead you've let me feel like shit for a week, this was the exact reason I was unsure to do it with you Hyunjin, in fear something like this would have happened & instead of just growing a pair & talking to me, you fuck someone else to just try forget?" You reply, your voice getting a bit shaky without meaning it, the feelings of it all hitting you again.
Hyunjin listens as he digs into his pocket & pulling out his own lighter & lighting it before putting it on the counter & he walks the few steps over to you, handing you the chocolate before standing right in front of you, leaning his hands on the counter on the outside of your legs, caging you in.
"Please y/n, don't think like that. I know I should have swallowed my pride n apologised earlier, I was just trying to convince myself I didn't give a fuck but I do, hence why I'm here. I honestly think you used those crystals & manifested this or something." he mumbles the last part, looking away from you, his ears going red after hearing his words out loud & your legs stop swinging as you pause at his words.
"What do you mean you actually give a fuck? What are you trying to say." you reply back, resisting the urge to reach out & stroke his hair. Hyunjin sighs & shakes his head. "Don't make me spit it out y/n, It's just gonna sound like a lie to you." You get an anxious feeling in your belly before taking his chin & guiding him to look back up at you. "Hyunjin, just say it, it's only me here anyway. Just say what you gotta say." you respond in a quiet but firm voice, honestly scared.
He doesn't have much option but to look at you as he lets himself melt into your hand lightly before taking a deep breath. "I.. care about you? I don't know, it feels weird but like... I genuinely felt like shit after how I treated you n i've tried to bury it but it just won't leave, I don't really know what it is about you n honestly it scares me." he says in a quiet, quick tone & your jaw drops.
You just freeze as you both just look at each other in complete silence not including the quiet crackling of the candle & your living room clock ticking. Hyunjin can't bare the awkwardness anymore as he gets shy for the first time in years, moving his arms to stand completely upright but you pull him in by the shirt to hug him, tears threatening to leave your eyes as his arms wrap around you in return.
"This better not be some sort of sick joke Hyunjin or i swear I'll kill you, you're gonna boost my ego to a fraction of what yours is." you half laugh as he nuzzles his face into your neck, inhaling your sweet smell. "It's not, dead serious. You're just different n I don't know how to feel about it, stop casting spells to make me attached to you. I've been itching to ask to see you all week, I wish I wasn't being so stubborn." he muffles into your neck, moving his head side to side slightly, his nose tickling your neck, making you lean more into him, chuckling at his stupid joke.
"Stop with the silly magic jokes, you're ridiculous. I want to say you're not forgiven since you need to prove to me you're not talking out your ass but I do accept your indeed heart warming apology & I appreciate it just more than the flowers n chocolate." you say in a soft voice & you feel Hyunjin smile against your neck before he moves & kisses the tip of your nose, smiling like a Cheshire cat.
"That's what I wanted to hear, I wouldn't be able to handle it if you had told me to fuck off, my first ever rejection coming from the first person I've ever bought a present for that isn't my mom." You chuckle at this before hopping off the counter, grabbing the box of chocolates that were staring at you.
"Rejection? You tryna say you like meee?" you tease, taking his hands before swaying them back & forth & he rolls his eyes, chuckling. "Was it not kinda obvious? I wanted to say it without directly saying it in case I embarrassed myself but... yeahhh I have a tiny crush, I think you made us soul tied or something." you just 'tut' at his remark but your face goes bright red at his confession, cheeks hurting from how much you're smiling.
"I'm touched. Got thee famous playboy hwang Hyunjin to like like me, not sure if it's a surprise but I like you too." You kiss his cheek before leading him to the couch as you sit on it, him flopping next to you. "Enough of the soppy talk for now or I'll get embarrassed, you can choose a movie while I get us a blanket." He just nods & you hand him the box of chocolates & he begins opening them as you scurry to your room to get your favourite fluffy blankets.
⭑・゚゚・:༅。.。༅:゚::✼✿  ✿✼:゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
You both end up watching a recommended Netflix romcom suggestion, both of you devouring your chocolates but you pay no mind to it.
Some point throughout, your legs end up swung over his as your head lays against his shoulder, him stroking your hair with one hand as the other hand caresses your thigh.
Every few minutes or so, you focus less on the movie & more on his touch as his hand slowly rises up your leg, then your thigh & his hand is now grazing against your inner thigh over your tight shorts, giving you goosebumps, which he doesn't miss.
This continues up until Hyunjin repositions himself, pushing your legs off him so he can lay down over your thighs, his view now sideways of the TV, not that he cares, not paying the slightest bit of attention anyway as you momentarily tense up beneath him.
You continue stroking his hair, sometimes digging your fingers into his scalp a bit to scratch it, making him let out a satisfied hum. You can't help but keep looking down at the beautiful man laying on you & you can't help but smile to yourself.
As if he can feel your eyes burning into his skull, he moves the blanket down your legs enough to expose your legs enough for him to begin planting little pecks on them, slightly tickilish but you don't miss the wetness now pooling under your shorts. "Stop teasing Hyune." you speak up, your voice quiet & he just chuckles.
"If you don't want me to tease, I won't complain if you lay back." he replies, not bothering to look up at you as his hand reaches to squeeze your thigh softly as he keeps giving your legs kisses, suckling at them slightly,
You think about what he says & you would be stupid to deny the chance, your pussy clenching around nothing. You lightly push his head up off you & he takes the hint, moving & you push the side of his arm, towards the edge of the couch & he looks at you slightly confused but does what he thinks you're hinting at, getting onto the floor right in front of you, looking up at you with his pretty eyes.
You give him a shy smile before you take it upon yourself to wriggle your shorts & underwear off, leaving your bottom half completely nude, biting your lip in anticipation.
"You really got this desperate since last time I saw you?" he teases & you put your hand in front of your cunt, covering it with how shy you've just started feeling but he is quick to pull it back off, looking at the small shimmer on your middle finger before licking it off in one go.
"Don't be shy, gorgeous. I've been just as desperate if not more, can I get a taste?" he says in a sweet voice, not looking away from you, stars in his eyes. "Please.. If you want to." you respond, hiding your face in your hands but he reaches up & swats your hands away yet again as his other hand begins to slowly drag through your folds, making your hips buck.
"Stop hiding, where's your confidence gone hmm? Do I make you that nervous? trust me, there's nothing I want more." he leans in & kisses right next to your lip before smirking at you & sinking back down onto the floor, blowing cold air onto your now soaking cunt, making your legs tense up & he tongues his cheek as he watches your face twitch.
He spreads your folds open, getting a better view of your hole, clenching around nothing before he licks a long, slow strip from your hole to the top of your clit, letting out a low groan in the process. "Taste better than anything y/n, I fucking swear." he says as he looks up at you for a split second. "eyes on me, if you look away I'll stop." he voices before digging in.
You do as he says & make eye contact with him as his mouth latches onto your cunt as he begins letting spit roll off his tongue, mixing with your juices just before slurping it back up, not afraid to make as much noise as the mixes of juices allow.
You weave your hand in his hair & play with his hair & scratch his scalp for him as he suctions his tongue onto your swollen button, both of you groaning at the same time.
"Hyune, so good" you whimper out, your breath shaky as your eyes struggle to stay open & you feel Hyunjin smile against you. He brings his fingers up to your clit before rubbing it in a steady rhythm as he lets go of before his tongue find its way into your opening before beginning to tongue fuck you & you throw your head back, your moans now louder than the TV still playing behind the both of you, your legs now closing around his head, not that he pays attention to that anyway, if anything he is enjoying it.
You begin to clench around his tongue which he remembers is your tell tail sign you're about to orgasm, your moans getting higher pitched & your grip on his hair getting tighter & he chooses to worm his tongue out of your hole before pinching your clit between his two fingers & dropping a glob of spit to it before giving it one more lick, smirking.
"I wanna try something I think you might like, turn over so you're facing your back to me, hunny." You huff at the beginning of a future orgasm beginning to appear suddenly bubbling away but you do as he says, slightly confused.
You get up on your knees & rest your elbows on the back of the couch, you now looking at the wall behind you. "Why am I fac-" you're cut off as Hyunjin spreads your cheeks & begins fondling them as he begins suckling on your pussy from behind, letting out a satisfied hum behind you as you begin kneading the couch until your fingers begin to ache, biting your lip to try hold back moans.
"G-gonna cum Hyunjin, keep g-going." you whimper, pushing yourself into his face, seeking even more from him if it's even possible & he gives you a quick slap on your ass as he removes himself from your cunt again, much to his own displeasure.
"Don't bite your lip y/nnie, I wanna hear you fully, Mkay?" he speaks from behind you as you yelp at the impact & he hums as he keeps kneading your ass, giving it a few kisses. "Your ass is to die for, you know that? Gonna taste it." Before you can even process what he says, your mind too full of lust to understand, he is letting a glob of spit fall past his lips & it landing right on your tightest hole.
You try jerk your hips away from him but he is quicker & pulls you back to him, keeping a tighter grip on your ass, keeping it spread as his tongue begins to graze over your pretty pucker, his eyes scrunching together as he smiles against you, tongue now drawing patterns on it as he lets go of one of your ass cheeks, going down to your leaking cunt again before entering two fingers, instantly finding the same G-spot that made you orgasm only a week or so ago.
Your hips buck at the new sensation & you let out a long mewl, letting your face fall onto the back of the couch as your knuckles turn white from how hard you're clenching on it.
Your pretty hole is clenching & pulsating on his tongue as he lets out a deep growl at your taste, so different compared to your cunt but still enjoyable, you're moans getting to an even higher pitch as his tongue enter inside you, swirling around as much as the tight ring will allow.
"Hyun- please l-let me cum, s-so- fuck!" you basically scream out, not even being able to find the strength to lift your head up to look at the man behind you as your pussy & ass clench around his fingers & tongue but right before you cum, Hyunjin pulls completely away, again & your legs shake from the painful pleasure of yet another stolen orgasm.
Hyunjin leans over so his clothed chest is touching your back & he tilts your head so he can see your pretty face & he sees your now tear soaked cheeks & your pretty, glossy eyes.
"Awww, pretty girl couldn't contain their tears, could you? I promise you can cum now, I don't have a condom on me though beautiful so do you just want my fingers hmm? or my tongue?" he questions as he strokes your now damp hair out of your face, pouting at you.
"J-just fuck me Hyune, j-just pull out." you whiimper back to him, your breath so unstable it's difficult to even push the words out. Hyunjin opens his mouth to re ask you, just to make sure he is hearing things right but you wiggle your naked ass against him & he bucks his hips before just nodding before kissing your shoulder & then shimmying his pants & underwear down, freeing his pretty cock.
He spits onto his cock, pumping it into his hand a few times, letting out a hushed groan before he aligns his tip with your pussy, rubbing himself against it a few times to coat his tip in your juices before prodding his tip against your hole, before pushing just the tip inside.
"I'm still gonna be gentle, it's only your second time, tell me if this position is uncomfortable." he speaks behind you & as you mumble out an 'okay' while your face now being mushed against the cushion again, he pushes his hips forward very slowly until he buries himself to the hilt, you both letting out a moan in unison.
He stills inside you, trying to not cum instantly from how hot your walls feel without the restriction of the condom he wore last time, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he waits for your signal to continue.
Your breath staggers as he pushes forward, the stretch being a bit painful but no way near as painful as last time & after a minute or so, you push yourself on his cock experimentally, making you both hiss.
"You- please move, mak-make me cum Hyune, p-please." you elongate the last word, turning your head to the side so he can actually hear you. He takes a deep breath & pulls out half way before pushing back in, the both of you letting out a whine as his balls slap against your clit, making it even more intense for you.
Hyunjin sets a steady rhythm, lightly using the tips of his finger nails to add sensation to your back, tickling it but also feeling nice as you know it will leave those pretty little red marks later on. Both of your moans & whines fill the small apartment, not even thinking about how your neighbours can one hundred percent hear you.
"Y/n yo-you're too tight, s-so warm." he breathes out, lifting his leg & standing it on the couch for a better angle as he keeps rutting into you, leaning over your back again to kiss your cheek, your moans going straight into his ears.
"To- so big hy-hyune, pleas-e lemme c-cum." you whimper, your eyes scrunching closed, the ends of Hyunjins hair tickling your face as he begins to nibble on your earlobe, your cunt clenching impossibly tight around his cock, almost suffocating it.
"c-cum with me baby, h-hold on for me." he groan back as he tilts his neck into an uncomfortable position just so he can kiss your lips. His tongue instantly enters your mouth & you suckle on it, tasting the remaining taste of your juices from what he hasn't already repeatedly swallowed, making you moan in content.
Hyunjin speeds up his pace slightly & your G-spot loves this, making your legs almost give out on the spot as your brain turns into mush. "I-in my s-stomach Hyun-deep." you babble out against his lips, barely even knowing your own name at this point.
As Hyunjin stands back upright after giving your shoulder a few pecks, his phone begins to ring. Your eyes spot his phone on the other end of the couch, where he was sitting earlier but he reaches over & declines it before shutting his phone completely off, throwing it to the side, his pace not slowing once.
You don't bother questioning it, instead focusing on the noises of your slick & his balls connecting together mixed with the sweat of the both of you, sloppy clapping noises of your skin connecting filling the room, your legs begin to give out as Hyunjin worms his fingers down to your clit yet again before rubbing it frantically.
"In your s-stomach hmm? You can cum for me angel, n-not gonna last, too w-wet n tight." he squabbles, breathing frantically & this i all you need to hear as your entire body tenses up as finally, your orgasm hits you like a brick wall & you let out a squeal & Hyunjin has to grip onto your hips as his life depend on it in order for you to not flop & slip off the couch.
Your noises & the way your pussy flutters around him is just too much for him to handle & as much as he doesn't want to, he pulls himself out of your wet, hot walls as his cum spurts down your ass & back, throwing his head back as his cock quite literally pulsates as his balls empty, a high pitched whimper leaving his lips, breathing staggered.
He comes back to his body quicker than you do & he helps reposition you so you're fully laying on the couch, trying to make sure his cum doesn't get onto any other surface.
He grabs his underwear & wipes the cum off your back in a comfortable silence, slightly twitching as he wipes it off. He leans over your back again before kissing your earlobe. "Did so well, so proud of you, still so pretty for me despite being sticky with sweat." you both weakly laugh as you turn onto your back before using the ounce of strength you have left to pull on his wrist.
"cuddle." is all you say as you pull on him until he lays on top of you, half his weight dangling off the arm of the couch as he lays his head on your chest, listening to your still racing heartbeat & he can't help but feel secure.
⭑・゚゚・:༅。.。༅:゚::✼✿  ✿✼:゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
You both sit like this for a while, talking to one another about what you both spoke about in a bit more detail & also just talk to each other about things you don't know about one another, things like family pets, favourite colours, favourite brands etc.
Hyunjin ends up powering his phone back on & you are both just scrolling through his for you page, when you remember his phone ringing. "Quick question hyune, who was it that called you? If it was important you coulda stopped to answer." you ask him, not lifting your eyes from the video playing on his phone screen, not really thinking too much of it.
"Don't stress it, it was just someone I'm not gonna be speaking to anymore." he replies in s tired voice, still scrolling. His reply slightly confusing you. "Who? I don't mean to be nosey or anything but now i'm curious." you respond back, your fingers in his hair now pausing.
Without saying anything, he switches apps, onto his call log & it's Lisas name at the top.. nineteen missed calls. He just sighs as he presses on the 'more' option before deleting her number & deleting the Imessage conversation without even bothering to read her spam of texts, yelling, crying & cussing him out before switching apps back onto tiktok without saying a word & you just blush, your hands cupping his cheeks from above, your thumbs just below his eyes.
"You're cute." you say as you squeeze them playfully & he just 'tut's but still, he melts himself into your touch.
I'm not completely sure if I want to leave this story as a two parter orrrrrr do a third n final part but to everyone wanting a happier ending here you all are!
Tags: @troublemaker02 @ismokeeweed @lmhcats @isagerada @tsunderelino
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thebimbopalace · 1 day
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ᡣ 𐭩 blurb: after your heated exchange with toji, you go to your bedroom and try to forget all about that cocky bastard. but his words still ring in your ears. allowing him one taste couldn’t hurt . . . right?
wc: 2.7k
ᡣ 𐭩 tags: mafia au, hitman!toji fushiguro x fem!reader, explicit content (mdni), foul language, feminine pet names, cūnnilingus, dirty talk, fingerīng, satoru is mentioned, reader has a clitōral hood piercing, light spīt play, one pūss spank, reader gets called slūt, begging, ēdging, use of good girl
pt² of the hitman ꒱
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the cold air in your grand bedroom seeps into your veins, making it the optimal condition to get your beauty sleep, yet you can't. you don't want to admit it but . . . he got to you. not only his words — which made your pussy douse your panties in slick — but his disposition.
the way his scarred lips twisted up in that patented smug grin that seems to never take a day off. his hulking physique embellished with tattoos — such intricate artwork adding to the dangerous aura around him, along with colossal hands calloused from numerous years of work. when did you notice these details about him?
you groan as images of him start plaguing your mind. those same hands wrapped around your neck as he fucks you from behind, snarling dirty words in your ear, punctuating each consonant with mind-numbing thrusts. you can't help the way you clench your thighs together, creating delectable friction on your aching bud.
shit.
you sit up in your bed, pedicured feet touching the cool floor as you try to relax your heavy breathing. you'll never be able to sleep at this rate. it's pathetic. the fact that you are lusting after the one man you cannot stand is a joke. so much so that you start to chuckle to yourself.
on one hand, you want to curse his name, hoping he burns in hell for all eternity. on the other, you want to feel the rippling hardness of his muscles under your palms while leaving scratch marks from each scrape of your acrylics down his broad back as you chant his name in pleasure. a dilemma, truly.
you come to a decision, quicker than you'd like to admit. you stand from your bed, adjusting your champagne-colored nightgown, reach for the doorknob, and exit your bedroom. with each step you take down the hall, his bedroom door gets closer and closer as a nervous-excited energy makes your cells sizzle.
as you stand in front of the grand wood doors, you hesitate. either you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life or . . . nope. there is no or. it's a mistake but, what's living if you don't make a few of those? and with that, you knock. after a few beats pass, the door opens revealing toji. shirtless.
holy fuck.
you ignore the unmistakable flutter in your core at the sight of his powerful torso littered with dark ink, the veins running down his thick arms towards his big hands while his pecs and abs make you want to run your tongue over each dip. you swallow the saliva that has gathered in your mouth at the sexy sight of him. toji knows the effect his physique has on you as a grin overtakes his face. the sight of you, here, in the middle of the night in that flimsy fabric you call a nightgown causes his hefty dick to twitch in his black boxer briefs. he opens his mouth to say some type of smart-ass comment but before he can even get the words out, you lift your hand to shut him up.
“just one question . . .” you begin, “all those things you said . . were they bullshit or not?” wanting the truth, you get straight to the point. "what do you think doll?" toji teases which sparked the embers of irritation in your soul. "give me a straight answer fushiguro. yes or no, were you lying?" your annoyed tone is potent as toji gazes into your eyes. he shakes his head at how easy you are to rile up. you truly will never learn, will you?
“far from it,” he answers and you pause. the seriousness of his voice catches you off guard. you've never heard him sound like this unless he was discussing business with your ‘lover’. that deep, rich timbre already has your cunt clenching around nothing. “why do you care huh? could it be that you’ve been thinking about me tonguing down that pussy? nah, that can’t be it, right pretty girl?” that teasing tone of his returns as his tattooed hand slips the fallen strap of your nightgown back on your shoulder, rough fingertips grazing your soft skin.
you suppress the shiver that ran down your spine at the minimal contact. you maintain your stoic facade to hide your desire for the hitman but, the pointed tips of your nipples visible through your nightgown gave you away quickly. "and if i was? you gonna do something about it?" you challenge which has one dark-haired brow of toji's raise at your half-admission. "i could. or i couldn't. it all depends on if you beg hard enough for it."
your glare could cut diamonds. "i don't beg."
"with me, you will. so, you either say the magic word or go another day without getting that pussy taken care of. your choice, doll," he asserts with no room for discussion in his tone. so you decide not to discuss it but push his buttons and make him give in. a candied smile adorns your glossy lips as you stare into his navy eyes. "my choice hmm? well, since it's my choice, i'm just gonna go see satoru. at least he'll know how to make me cu—"
as you were about to turn around, toji grabbed your arm and forcefully pulled you into his room. you don't even get a chance to protest as he tosses your body onto his bed and towers over you. "don't ever say that bastard's name in my presence again. you hear me, little girl?" toji spits as his leg is between yours, spreading them open. you giggle. he truly hated the white-haired businessman. “why not? don’t want to hear allll about how satoru fucked me soooo good? how my pussy came soooo much on his long cock? poor fushiguro.”
your giggles come to a screeching halt when you feel a harsh spank on your clothed center. "the name's toji, girl. address me right or don't address me at all," his fingers hook into the waistband of your thong panties. "i'm sure he's made this slutty cunt cum plenty of times but, he's never savored you. he's never taken his time and turned you into the needy girl we both know you are," slipping the thong into the pocket of his sweat, toji sets his hands on your inner thighs and pries your legs apart.
his plush pink tongue peeks out from inside his mouth licking his lips, and eyeing you like a predator stalking its prey. toji's never seen a better vision than your pussy glistening with your slick . . oh? what do we have here? toji thinks as he sees the small sliver hoop hooked through the hood, covering the hardened bud of your clit, oh so begging to be kissed.
he flicks your piercing, causing you to buck your hips away from the sensation. "cheeky girl," toji rasps, a shit-eating grin threatening to erupt on his face. you roll your eyes. "whatever. are—" he cuts you off by pulling back the skin where the pretty hoop is attached and spits right onto your aching bundle of nerves, smearing it with his thumb. “mmm, a pretty girl with a pretty pussy to match," a deep, rumbling chuckle leaves his throat at your wide-eyed expression.
you clear your throat to regain your composure and ignore that slow feeling of your juices leaking out of your weeping hole onto the bedspread below. toji takes two fingers, collecting the honeyed nectar and slathering it all over your lower lips. he's toying with you. he wasn't lying when he said he was going to make you beg, you're damn near close to saying that awful word that's never been in your vocabulary.
toji watches as you don't make a sound from his fingers caressing each nook and cranny of your pussy. you don't have to say anything. the way your glossy plump lip is caught by your teeth and your brows that are scrunched together tells him everything he needs to know. he'd be lying if he said he didn't dream of this. from the moment he laid eyes on you, he was bewitched. he had to have you, to keep you for himself. it didn't matter who was your past, what mattered was that he was your future.
his teasing caresses have you working overtime to not make any noises. you don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he has you by the skin of your clit. but the touch of his calloused fingertips on the soft, sensitive tissue made you throw caution to the wind instantly. "for fucks sake! either eat my pussy or move!" you mewled harshly as your tilted head hits the feather pillow. pride is overrated anyway, having your pussy sucked on isn't. “you’re so demanding girl, somethin’ else you and your pussy have in common."
your head snaps up and toji can see the fire of irritation and desire in your pupils. "i swear, if—" he cuts you off once again as the sudden intrusion of his two, thick fingers in your tight cunt generates a loud moan to flee from your parted lips. "huh? what was that? i don't speak slut," toji teases as he curls his digits, massaging your spongy spot dead on. while he moves his fingers in that "come-hither" motion, he sinks to his knees and licks a stripe up your clit, making sure the tip of his tongue snaps at your piercing.
toji's lips surround the tender nub and he sucks. hard. your back arches off the mattress as your hand promptly grabs onto his dark locks. it's nasty really. pornographic slurping sounds can most certainly be heard by anyone within a five-mile radius of his room. toji's tongue and lips work together on your clit as if he's making out with your cunt. with each thrust of his fingers deeply inside you, broken moans ricochet off the walls and engrain themselves into toji's cock, making it hard for him not to rut his hips into the bed.
he is delighted by the fact that you're no longer holding those graceful sounds back. “thereee they are, those are the sounds my girl makes,” toji muses in between each kiss to your clit. “i’m not your girllahhh,” you refute with a drawn-out moan. he goes quiet. you start to think that maybe you angered him in some way with your words but, all you hear is the squelching noises hailing from your sopping walls. "yeah? the way this pussy’s talkin’ to me says otherwise baby,” toji states smugly knowing you can't deny how wet you are for him.
"s-shut up."
“if you weren’t mine, you wouldn’t have knocked on my door ready to serve me this sweet cunt.”
"s-shut up!" you try to sound firm while nothing but whimpers come out. and the asshole laughs. everything about you right now is adorable. from your glassy eyes to the lewd philharmonic of moans and whimpers you're letting slip freely. he's wondering where that feisty woman has gone. the woman who told him that she wouldn't fuck him even if he was water and she was dying of thirst. and at this moment, not only were you dying of thirst, but you were practically dehydrated.
"if you weren't mine, you—" now it was your turn to cut him off. "you do a lot of talking for someone who's supposed to be nose deep in my pussy. get back to it and make me cum why don't cha," your tone is one of authority with an undercurrent of breathlessness. you slide your hand towards the back of toji's head and guide his mouth back to your aching middle to let him know you meant what you said. "yes ma'am," he smirks as he resumes working your pussy over.
the only thing on toji's mind right now is to make you squirm and shake on his fingers until you become a whimpering mess. his rhythm is steady as he points his tongue and circles your bud with the tip of it in unison with his digits buried into the hilt. your eyes roll into the dark depths of your skull, your head feeling like it's on a swivel, struggling to keep your head up straight. “look at me. look at me while i work this pussy open,” toji muffles, stern voice not going unnoticed.
your head adjusts so you're now looking down at toji and right into his indigo gaze. he looks just as pleasure drunk as you. you watch as toji sinks a third finger into your crying pussy. the feeling is too much. he is too much. your hips start to move unconsciously, trying to chase that high that is so close, you can almost taste it. your hips grinding into toji's mouth as his cock almost leaked his warm seed into his boxer briefs.
your and toji's moans mingle together producing filthy music that is sure to remain in your brain for a very long time. "'m g-gonna cum, fuck," you stutter as the band in your belly strains. "you know what to say," toji challenges. what's with this man and begging? you'd roll your eyes at him if they weren't already in your head. so, you ignore him. as you continue to roll your hips your orgasm gets stronger and stronger until . .
it ebbs away.
"say it or i'll leave you to finish yourself off," toji demands, a smirk ever present. truly an asshole, but you give in. "please," you mumble softly. his tongue moves a bit faster. "again." "p-please," you repeat, slightly louder. each utter of the word causes toji to move his mouth and fingers faster. "fuckin' again baby. you know what i wanna hear." a high-pitched whine floods the air from all the teasing, all the edging, and how turned on you are by everything.
"pleasepleaseplease toji make me fuckin' cum. 'm soooo close, r-right t-there, mm-hmmm."
now, toji is satisfied. "now there's a good girl, go ahead and cum," toji drawls. not half a second later, you fall into the pit of bliss as you cry out toji's name in pure ecstasy. your hand adorns a vise-like grip on his hair as the sheer intensity of you cumming makes your eyes water. toji doesn't stop though. the even pace he's set stays even though your spasming walls nearly push his fingers out. your legs shake, and your body convulses from the euphoria that was brought upon you by the hitman.
the dark spots in your vision finally clear as you sink into the bed fully relaxed. you've never came that hard. ever. toji retracts his fingers from your slippery cunt and pops them into his mouth, sucking your cum clean off them. "you taste good. no surprise there," he slithers them out his mouth with a wet pop. somehow, someway, you stand up from the bed, legs all wobbly and begin to fix your nightgown as it's gone astray on your breasts.
heading to the door of his bedroom, toji grabs you by the arm once more. "where are you going?" he asks shocked that you haven't collapsed yet with how weak your legs are. "to my room. where else?" your soft tone apparent due to you still reeling from that mind-boggling climax he just ripped from you. your response caused toji's eyebrows to raise. "oh yeah? what are you going to do about this?" he guides your hand to the big tent in his sweats, brought on by his rock-hard erection you caused.
from the feel of his cock, you know how heavy and thick it is. it could reach spots you've never dreamed of. but not tonight. "that's a you problem," you say nonchalantly, removing your hand from his crotch and leaving the room shutting the door behind you with a light slam. once again, you never fail to amaze toji. and without fail, he riles you up. he knows you'll be back for his cock. you'll be back in his bed or he'll be in yours but, in the meantime, he takes your black thong panties out of his pants pocket, knowing exactly how to relieve his pent-up desires for you. 
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shoutout to my pooh bear @shaguro for beta reading 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 .
2024 © thebimbopalace — please DO NOT copy, change, or repost my works on any other platform. All rights reserved to @ thebimbopalace
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harunayuuka2060 · 2 days
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Chubby MC: *went to visit Coral Sea to give Jade and Floyd's birthday presents*
Azul: You're here. I thought you would try making excuses again.
Chubby MC: I was busy. And I can't breathe underwater.
Azul: I've been sending you potions to help you with that.
Chubby MC: Hm.
Azul: ...
Azul: *chuckles*
Azul: The twins are going to be happy to see you after not getting in touch for eight years.
Chubby MC: Sure.
Azul: ...
Azul: Is there something wrong?
Chubby MC: ...
Chubby MC: To be honest, I'm not thrilled to meet anybody from NRC.
Azul: Why is that?
Chubby MC: Imagine. Eight years and I still look like this. *sigh* Tch. I've been airing out my insecurities. I'll keep quiet now.
Azul: ...
Azul: So, what did you get for Floyd and Jade?
Chubby MC: Something's within my budget.
Azul: *chuckles* Cheapskate.
Chubby MC: *frowns*
Chubby MC: I'm just a minimum wage earner, you capitalist.
Azul: *laughs*
Floyd: Beluga-chan~! *squeezes them*
Chubby MC: Don't squeeze the air out of me!
Floyd: But I missed you so much~
Chubby MC: Yeah! Yeah! I get the message! Release me now!
Floyd: Hehe~ Okay~.
Chubby MC: *takes a deep breath in*
Floyd: So~ What's my present~?
Chubby MC: ...
Chubby MC: I got you this. *hands him a squishy hamster toy*
Floyd: Hehe~
Floyd: Hehehehehe~! So cuuuutee~!!!
Chubby MC: I made sure it's water proof.
Floyd: *hugs them* Thank you, Beluga-chan~!
Chubby MC: ...
Chubby MC: *smiles* You're welcome.
Jade: *wants to approach MC but the other guests are blocking him*
The guests: Happy birthday, Jade. You're really a grown up now.
Jade: *smiles* Thank you.
The guests: Have you considered getting married?
Jade: ...
Jade: *subtle smirk* Yes.
The guests: *smiling in relief*
Chubby MC: Looks like Jade is busy.
Azul: Why not approach him?
Chubby MC: ...
Chubby MC: No. I'll just leave my present for him with Floyd.
Chubby MC: Also, I think the effect of your potion is enough to get me back to the surface.
Azul: I asked you to bring three vials.
Chubby MC: Your message was too long. I didn't bother to read all of it.
Azul: You-
Chubby MC: Bye now.
Azul: ...
Azul: *sigh* Be careful on your way home.
Floyd: Here's Beluga-chan's present for you~.
Jade: *smiles* I like it. *MC bought him a pair of hiking boots as a gift*
Floyd: But you know, why you're so slow?
Jade: I beg to differ, Floyd.
Jade: There's time for everything.
Floyd: You think~? Because I'm guessing Beluga-chan doesn't even remember your promise~.
Jade: They do, otherwise, why would they remain single?
Floyd: *laughs*
Floyd: You're so full of yourself sometimes, Jade~.
Jade: You want to be their brother-in-law, right, Floyd? So I ask you to support me on this. *smiles*
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sweetnans · 2 days
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Katsuki is a light sleeper. Don't get me wrong, he has the reflex of a hero. You can't blame him for that. But in the days that he comes home very tired, almost unable to get in the shower and put his pj on (change his boxers), he is described as a bear on wintering season. If you try to wake him up you'll probably fail.
In the other hand, you sleep soundly, the only problem that you got is that you need physical contact to not wake up during the night. That's an easy task with Katsuki, always having his hands on you.
But what happen when he is sleeping like a rock with his hands on himself? Thats when the problems begin. Well, for you.
"Kats" you whisper close his face. "Baby" you try again. Nothing, not even a grunt.
You touch his hair, then his face, then his arms, trying to wake him up so he can cuddle you again. Useless.
You check the clock in your bedside table. 3:02 am. Cursing under your breath you realize that you need to do something.
You know better than to try to wake him up. It was one thing or the other, he would wake up in a instant or not wake up at all. You were in the second situation.
Sitting in bed, you take his hand and his heavy arm with both of yours and lay it on your side of the bed, trying to place it in the spot that your neck would occupy. You relocate yourself in the position, giving him your back, and grab the other arm so he would hug you completely.
He grunt lowly, relocating his body next to yours, spooning you finally.
"You can't keep still, can you?" He murmur, placing a kiss on your shoulder and hiding his face into your neck.
To say that it took you 2 minutes to fall asleep would be an exaggeration.
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claypgeons · 2 days
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rumor spreader?
pairing: max verstappen x reader, charles leclerc x reader, lando norris x reader, oscar piastri x reader (platonic or poly? you decide…)
summary: you loved spreading rumors, about everything and everyone. it was just about time someone caught on.
notes: mentions of drugs, fluff, my oscar bias shines in this, pls send requests!!
“So..” the interviewer drew out, focusing her eyes on you and you only. You, Max, Charles, Lando, and Oscar were all sitting on a long gray couch, Lando and Oscar on your left, Max and Charles on your right. 
You were doing one of the many jobs that came with being a formula one driver, interviews. You didn't really mind interviews, they were mostly fun, and it was better than the long and boring meeting you had most weeks. Although you would normally conduct interviews with your team partner, or even alone, it seems like this time they decided to switch things up.
“We have heard from a little birdy, that you, Y/N are quite the troublemaker?” The men around you instantly started getting rowdy, all loudly chiming in with their own agreements.
You laughed, distracting the men around you, stracking your arm with a smile, “Depends on what you're referring to...” 
“Rumors.” was all the interviewer had to say behind the camera before you completely burst out laughing, leaning back and knocking into Charles hand. The men around you looked confused, not exactly knowing what the interviewer was referring to. 
Calming down, you looked around at the men with a smile, “So this is where it ends.” you huff, ignoring Oscars (adorable) confused face.
“I take it the little birdy was correct?” the interview grinned, clearly happy to get this new and exclusive content for his bosses. 
“Yes. The little birdy was correct.” You sighed, looking up at the camera in faux shame.  “I am Y/N L/N, and I am addicted to spreading rumors.” 
You didn't need to look around to know the boys next to you were looking at you in shock. “Care to elaborate?” Charles suggested, looking at you with a small smile. 
You wiped your hands nervously over your pants, knowing this whole conversation could lead you to so much trouble. “There's not much to say..” you laughed once more, this time with nerves, “I just like to spread rumors.” You leaned back into the couch with a shrug. 
But of course, the boys were not going to let this down so quickly, “No, no.” Lando shook his head, sitting up, “I’d like to hear more about this.”
“I would too.” Max chimed in, leaning forward. Oscar and Charles, were quick to also agree, but you still didnt know how to start.
“What's the biggest rumor you've spread?” The interviewer chimed in, and your eyes instantly shifted over to Max, whose eyes widened, “Is it about me?” he questioned shocked, Lando laughed loudly. 
“I’ll only say it if you promise you won't get mad at me.” You started, cautiously. 
Max tilted his head, unsure. “C’mon Max,” Lando smirked, “I think we all need to hear this. Right Oscar?” 
“Yeah, Mate.” Oscar laughed, “I'm at the edge of my seat here.”��
After a few seconds, Max agreed, you shut your eyes in shame. Whispering, “I accidentally! Started a rumor that you..took coke before each race.” 
Instantly Lando burst out in complete laughter, falling on the ground, and leaning on your knees. “Jesus Christ…” he giggled, laughing even louder by the second. You shamefully opened your eyes, making contact with a completely shocked Oscar, who looked like he was trying to keep it together, before you looked over to Charles and Max who both looked equally confused. 
“I.. don't understand.” Charles frowned, “Coke?” 
“You know like..” you reached up and covered one nostril, before snorting upward, “Coke, coke.” 
All at once it hit the two men, Charles laughed even louder than Lando, who was slowly getting back up to his seat, although Max didn't seem equally amused. “You did what..” he spoke slowly. 
You instantly jumped in to defend yourself, “I swear it was an accident!” 
“How does one accidently..” Oscar smiled at you sweetly, “Start a rumor like that?” 
“I was talking to some interns, when they brought up Max’s incredibly winning numbers,” you tried to get Max to smile, but it wasn't working, “When I, as a joke, said, ‘Maybe it's because he does coke before the races.’ Again Lando burst into laughter, with a huff, you punched his thigh hard, “I thought it was funny! And they laughed, so I thought they thought it was funny too!” 
Max sighed out your name, placing his head into his hands disappointedly, “It wasn't until like three days later, that I heard other interns talking about the..coke situation. But I shut it down, I swear!” you huffed, never liking to see Max mad at you. 
Deciding to derail the conversation, the interview asked, “What other rumors have you started.”
“Well I once told like half of the Mclaren team that Lando had peed himself during a meeting.” 
“You did WHAT?” Lando turned to you with his mouth wide open, his face bright red, all trace of amusement gone.
“Not so funny when it's you, is it Lando?” Max smiled. 
“And I told a bunch of people that Charles hated me.” 
“Now why would you do that?” Charles sighed, placing his hand over yours, you shrugged, “I was bored.” 
“Oh, and I told like ten people that I was a gambling addict.” You rolled your eyes, “That one didn’t spread as much as I wanted it to.” 
“No rumors about Oscar?” the interviewer quipped. 
“No, no.” You turned to Oscar, who was staring at you with his puppy dog eyes, “Never Oscar, he’s too sweet.” 
“And I'm not?” Lando frowned, looking around in offense.
“No.” 
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murdrdocs · 2 days
Text
mentioned sex tape; some weird bisexual stuff happening here; fingering MDNI 18+ w/ PATRICK ZWEIG & ART DONALDSON (mentioned)
"i think we should show him the video sometime."
patrick's words are almost covered by the way his lips press kisses into the side of your neck. like usual, he's sloppy with it, not giving you as much love as he's giving you devotion.
you're fine with that. you like it like that.
you hum as a filler, taking time to consider who and what video patrick is referencing. eventually, it clicks.
"patrick," you warn, no real intentions for any bite to succeed your bark.
patrick laughs as he lightly takes your earlobe between his teeth. "come on," he speaks around your flesh. "it's a little unfair if we don't, right? i mean, he is technically part of it, isn't he?"
and patrick is right. even if art isn't aware, he was a crucial guest in the tape you and patrick filmed. you remember it, despite how often you try to block it out.
patrick had his hands between your thighs, his lips still tasting like your arousal as he talked to you. "what're you thinking about?" he asked, his grin audible through his accusatory words.
at the time, you hated how well patrick knew you. it's like he knew the answer to the question he'd asked, and he wanted you to say it yourself so he could hold it over your head. but you knew if you didn't tell the truth, and if patrick sensed it, the repercussions wouldn't be favorable. so you meekly replied, pushing down your embarrassment and avoiding patrick's gaze.
"him," you told patrick, your back arching as his long fingers found a patricular spot.
"art," patrick corrected. "'s okay to say his name. he's not here." on the tape was a pause, one where the camera was able to pick up the wet sounds of patrick's fingers forcing themselves in and out of your greedy cunt.
eventually, patrick had filled that silence. "but you wish he were here, don't you?"
without much resistance at all, you nodded, your eyes squeezed shut as your legs lifted and your abdomen tightened, your body preparing you for an orgasm.
and here, without a camera taking up one of his hands, patrick fondles your tits while simultaneously pushing the hem of your pants off of your hips.
"he would be flattered, you know." he speaks to you head on this time, letting you see the sincerity within his green eyes. "he'd probably cream his pants. it's his wet dream come true."
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