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charliemwrites · 5 months

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Bark, bark, snort, grrr

(The ex idea comes from @st-el-la-luna, absolutely brilliant darling ❤️)

Content: Voyeurism, Mild Injury, Possessive/Protective Behavior

Johnny, for all his quirks and… weirdly human tendencies, is an incredibly good sport. Particularly about letting you put him in Santa hats and wreaths, ugly sweaters and snow socks. He poses for every picture so dutifully, looks so serious and annoyed up until you plant smooches on his head or cheek and that silly lupine grin comes out.

He’s been your perfect little heater ever since the heater started to go on the fritz. It keeps shutting off or turning itself lower than it’s meant to be, leaving you shivering before you realize something is amiss. It’s not so broken that you’re willing to interrupt your solitude to have someone come fix it. But you’re grateful for a big fluffy body laying on your feet or snuggling under the blankets with you.

As the winter sets in, you tromp out with him in the snow a lot. Often use his sturdy shoulders and better footing as a crutch to navigate without slipping. He always gets fussy when you do, dancing in his feet and snuffling at your coat, urging you up.

One morning you wake up after a fresh snow, expecting that you’ll have to clear the driveway and porch - only to find it freshly shoveled and salted. It would spook you, except you’re sure Johnny would have woken you up barking his head off if it was anything to worry about.

Your mother calls about holiday plans in mid-November. You hedge around any commitments, hand buried in Johnny’s fur, saying that you don’t want to leave your precious pup at home.

The combined efforts of both your parents, your sister, and a cousin you actually like makes you cave eventually though. They promise it’ll just be family, that you can even bring Johnny. You grimace at that - debate getting him some meds from the vet…. But he’s been doing better on walks in town.

The weird assurance that it’ll “just be family” should have been a red flag.

When you arrive at your parents’ place, several gift bags and Johnny (with a bow tie on his collar) in tow, you find your ex there. On the couch. Next to your least-favorite cousin and your sister.

“What’s he doing here?” you ask sharply.

“Well, you two were engaged—”

Johnny’s ears shoot straight up as you tense.

“Yeah, and then he cheated.”

“People make mistakes. If you would just hear him out.”

“I don’t care what he has to say. And I don’t care what you have to say either.”

You drop the bags in a heap and click your tongue for Johnny. He falls in with you instantly, leaning up against your side. You get all the way to your car before you hear your ex’s voice calling your name.

You try to hurry, but there’s ice and the last thing your dignity can take is slipping right now. Luckily, you have the perfect deterrent before you ex can even get within arm’s reach.

Johnny snarls, so deep and loud you feel it in your own chest.

“Jesus!” your ex cries, coming up short. “Where did you get that thing?!”

“Johnny picked me. More than I can say for you.”

“Don’t be like that, I’m picking you now.”

“Oh, did your girl best friend lose all her daddy’s money?”

His cheeks light up neon. Huh. Got it in one.

Then he dares another step and Johnny lunges. You just get a hold of his harness but it’s enough ward your ex off a bit more.

“He’s very loyal,” you add. “Also more than I can say for you.”

“Baby, just listen—”

“An upgrade all around, I think.”

You round your car, climb into the driver’s seat with Johnny standing guard, then let him clamber over you into the passenger’s seat. At the front door, most of your family is gathered and staring. You flip off your ex one last time before peeling out of there.

The tears come after you’ve gotten back home. Johnny licks your face until you stop crying, then leads you inside. The two of you curl up on the couch together, his face buried in your stomach. You fall asleep there and dream of a man’s voice whispering love and comfort in your ear.

—

A week later, your ex shows up.

You’re out in the yard with Johnny, watching him zoom through the snow and laughing as he speeds by. Your ex must hear you because he comes round the side of the house.

And Johnny. Goes. Ballistic.

Literally, he hits your ex like a missile, taking him into the snow and snarling like something from hell. He’s got his teeth in your ex’s designer coat, ripping it to shreds. It’s frightening; you’ve never felt safer.

“Johnny!” you call. A growl. You walk closer, kick a bit of snow at both of them. “Johnny, down! Leave it!”

And he does, finally does, though not without taking a good chunk of fabric with him. Your ex, wide-eyed and pale, panting, doesn’t bother to say a word. He scrambles away while Johnny barks after him, all canine and spit.

You hum as he returns to you, fabric in his mouth, tail wagging.

“What a good boy,” you coo, taking the partial sleeve and inspecting it. Louis Vuitton, it looks like. “Very good. My perfect boy.”

You drop his prize into the snow and snort as he wastes no time peeing on it. Well, that’s gonna stay there. Forever.

“C’mon bud, you deserve a treat.”

Johnny follows you happily inside, a new pep in his step.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic

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seraphdreams · 1 year

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NO PHOTOS — BAJI KEISUKE/KAZUTORA HANEMIYA.

— CONTAINS. fem!reader, 3some, slight choking, praise/degradation, reader is referred to as sweetheart and doll, multiple rounds, tora is an energetic fucker. 18+ mdni.

— WORD COUNT. 4.0k

— NOTES. this is like my 50th repost cause i’m trying to not get flagged but i hope you enjoy the first addition to this miniseries. i really loved writing it all and i hope i don’t have to repost it again :( also listen to the song “no photos” by don toliver!

— LINKS. series masterlist — general masterlist.

They say rivalries could fuck up a friendship.

Not particularly for Baji and Kazutora though.

Rivalry was invigorating to them, something they needed in their day to day lives like water to survive, and even after their childhood years, they still found themselves battling against each other somehow. So, it didn’t come as much of a surprise to Kazutora when he arrived at Bonten’s freshly established headquarters, complete with its own separate hotel and casino, to see that his opponent was Shibuya’s best, Baji Keisuke.

A smirk then followed a laugh when Hanemiya thought over it more. Baji? It’d been years since he last saw his best friend, his only fond memory being attending Keisuke’s graduation; How strange of someone with their veterinary degree to take on racing. To each their own, he presumed.

In turn, however, Kazutora spent most of his time in jail. Trouble seemed to follow him everywhere he went like a lost puppy with its unreliable owner. And at the end of every day, he promised himself he’d get better—He had to. And he did. Prison struck the opportunity for him to pick up new dexterities, other than his last hobby of breaking and entering. With that, he grew increasingly knowledgeable in the field of motorbikes. Once he got out, he landed himself a job at a local bike shop. Comfortable; the pay was great, he did what he loved, and when he was exceptionally lucky, he’d get to compete against others in his area, being an undefeated favorite as well.

Now with him settled into his suite, alongside his roguish roommate, the need for competition grew stronger.

“It’s been a minute, huh, Keisuke?” Kazutora sighs out, laying across the opposite side of his bed. Coming from Tora, it was rich. Rich in the sense that whenever it came down to the two going head to head back in Shibuya, Kazutora conveniently found himself sitting in a cell. “Sure has. I was startin’ to think your bum ass was scared of me.” Baji responds with a snicker, adjusting his head on the headboard of the luxurious hotel bed.

“Never. But hey..” Kazutora starts, sitting up straight and resting his weight against his hands behind him. From the shift in octave of his last vocables, Baji knew to listen intently despite aimlessly scrolling on his phone. Probably looking at bikes again..

“Y’seen that new girl Bonten’s been hoarding? Fucking gorgeous.” Kei’s focus flits immediately to Hanemiya. “New girl?”

If you could only see the look on Tora’s face when he described you, as if he’d seen an angel from Heaven and came back down to Earth just to report it back to Baji. It was entertaining to say the least, how expressive he got when telling Keisuke you were about this tall, and your hair was the sexiest shade of this color, and he can’t fucking forget about your body. Each dip and curve of your frame was engraved into his brain with so much depth that if he’d somehow end up with amnesia, he couldn’t forget—He wouldn’t forget.

“Sounds like a real peach. The hell they need her for?” Baji queries. The truth being, Bonten needed you as a morale booster. Someone to remind them they were human even after a gruesome day’s work, and of course at times they’d get distracted, bend you over the desk in God-knows-who’s office just to make the prettiest mess out of you. It kept their spirits high, and they were fun men so you didn’t mind as much as you should’ve.

Kazutora thought for a second on what his next words would be. Spontaneously, he asks, “Wanna find out?” The question didn’t quite register in Baji’s mind until Tora graciously added that you were the designated flag girl. What a shame it’d be if you didn’t get to know your racers a few hours before they become less than friends and more than foe.

—

Last night’s packing took an immense amount of your energy, leaving you only to manage a quick shower in the morning after less than a full night's rest. You blamed Haru; That forgetful bastard, only he would make the mistake of relaying to you that the flight leaves at 6 A.M instead of P.M, which forced you to scramble for time you thought you had.

When you finally arrived at your suite, you opted for a nap to rejuvenate lost time, and fortunately you had been granted the night shift at what was beginning to feel like your new part-time job. You slept soundly without distractions for the next few hours, and once you awoke, a necessary shower was in your presence.

It wasn’t until you stepped out of the shower that you noticed your phone buzzing on the counter, paired with an unknown caller ID at the top of the screen. Normally, you’d ignore it, wait for the ringing to stop and carry on with whatever plans you had for the day, but since Bonten had a particular way of wiring your phone, to say the least, who knew what business you could be called in for.

“Hello?” You hold the phone between your ear and shoulder as you drape the towel around your dampened body. A soft voice projects through the other line, so gentle as though it were merely a whisper. “Is this Y/N?”

You move on to heading out the bathroom and into the bedroom where you set the phone on speaker and begin to apply your smell-goods. “Mhm, what’re you calling for?” There’s a brief bout of silence from the other side until the familiarity of hearing that docile tone vacated and it was replaced by a deeper, brasher timbre. “Y’not busy, are ya? Gotta race in a minute ‘nd ‘m losin’ motivation, sweetheart.” The sentiment of the pet name had heat surging through your body.

This must’ve been what Rindou was talking about. And to think all that talk about needing to “stick close by his side” because the others were bound to want you, was just a scheme to be possessive. Maybe actually listening to Bonten could teach you a few things.

You weren’t dumb as to not realize who was on the phone. It clicked for you the moment you heard his voice. He was your Boss’s friend, the one you reigned attractive against the others in the photos he’d shown you. Mikey had warned you that he was an unpredictable man, but seeing as Sanzu was someone you dealt with on a daily basis (regardless of if you wanted to or not), Baji was nothing.

Surely, you weren’t too busy with anything, and a quick welcome visit couldn’t hurt. “Not busy at all. Which room are you in, Keisuke?”

Fucking hell. Just how cute can you get? Kei tries his hardest to not let the grin on his features go noticed, or to not let the excitement rush straight to his dick, yet he fails at both. “Na, Kazutora..” You could hear him on the other end calling for Tora’s attention. “What room are we in?”

You couldn’t hear Tora’s response over the phone but luckily Baji was gracious enough to repeat it a second time, not necessarily just for you to hear; but for emphasis. An allure, roughly.

Room 602 — Who knows what’s to come?

Luckily, you were provided with the cutest checkered set, a gift from Ran Haitani himself—complete with a teensy tiny skirt and tight little crop top that left no part of your chest to the imagination. Truly adorable, the way it had fit your body, the uneasy feeling of bareness waning away once you stepped into your platform Miu Miu heels.

After some twirling in the mirror, you felt ready enough to make your way to their suite. You knocked gently against the lacquered door, in contrast to how sturdy, heavy almost, it felt underneath your knuckles. The handle turns and the door is pulled from the inside, revealing the men who occupied the area.

They had to be over 6’0, the both of them. You weren’t expecting to be towered over within the first ten seconds of arriving, it was evident on their features that they found you rather cute. The one you came to recognize as Baji was posted against the wall with his arms crossed, sharp eyes taking you in gradually. Hmm, intimidating.

The other held the door open, a soft close-eyed smile on his face. Ran would make the same expression with you at times too. A dark mole near his right eye gave him a more feminine look in comparison to the raven haired male a foot behind him. He seemed friendly, this must’ve been the carrier of the dulcet voice you heard from before.

“Cute outfit, that what you’re wearing tonight?” Baji queries, relaxing his stance in the slightest. Kazutora pulls the door in more, allowing you ample room to slip past him and to shut the door behind you. It takes a while for you to slowly nod while taking in the view of their room. Bonten really outdid themselves when coming up with floor plans for the hotel because every inch of each square foot seemed to be crafted specifically to fit their divine tastes. Nevertheless, a golden view of the water from the window situated in the living space. “I’ll try not to ruin it then.” Huh? What does he mean by that?

Your focus hastily snaps back to the man before you, a sinister smirk quirking at his lips that reveals two sharp… fangs? He’s far more frightening in person.

A hand on your wrist enthusiastically guides you to their room, it’s Kazutora, sitting you down amongst the bedsheets. Baji follows behind him, sitting across from you two. “Tora, relax. You’ll scare her.” You giggle at Keisuke’s assertiveness, receiving an eyebrow raise from him as soon as the airy chuckles reach his ears. “‘m not scared.” You respond, hands placed over your bare thighs.

“You’re so cute, like a doll. You’d let us get to know you a bit?” Kazutora’s voice resonates from the side of you he sat beside. You turn to look at him only now noticing his golden-hued eyes.

Very pretty.

“Of course.” Your response came out in a reassuring tone, the pair falling harder and harder for you as each second passes. Kazutora’s hands wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him, the tips of his fingers dancing dangerously close to your inner thighs.

“You gotta boyfriend?” He sing-songs. Baji leans in closer despite only being two feet away, his hands folded and rested over his lap. “Not technically.” You chime out, feeling as though you’ll go dizzy from the tantalizing scent of the man beside you.

“Not technically?” It’s Baji’s voice you hear now. “I mean, ‘m not with Bonten, but sometimes they treat me like a girlfriend.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. Your relationship with Bonten could be described as something similar to a friends with benefits ordeal. Not quite, but not far off.

“Your little boyfriends would probably be disappointed if they found out you were here, huh?” In response to Baji’s question, you shake your head. “They don’t have to know.”

So perfect and so fucking dumb. What did they do to deserve you?

Kazutora’s hand trails up your abdomen, to your sternum, and right under your jaw where he grips your throat with the lightest pressure and angles your head upwards to meet his eyes.

Those same friendly orbs from before diminished into something colder, with the faintest hint of mirth behind them. “Be honest with me, pretty baby. Who do ya think is gonna win today’s race? Me, or Keisuke?”

Hypnosis is what it felt like when you stared into his eyes, attempting to muster up an answer that would satisfy both parties, although you just… didn’t know. Kei’s eyes narrow as they land on Tora’s, the quick glance they give each other filled with devilry.

“I-I don’t know.” You give him your final resolve. Kazutora releases his grip on you and moves his hands back to your thighs, slightly pushing them open to reveal the barely there panties you wore underneath your skirt. “Don’t know?” Hanemiya’s voice is whispered against the shell of your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “How ‘bout we show you? You’d like that?” Hands that were previously between your thighs find themselves tugging down your little shirt, kneading the flesh of your tits softly. You elicit a low whine, nodding your head as Baji situates himself between your thighs, using his sharp teeth to pull the fabric of your panties down until they hang off one ankle.

“Imma make ya feel fucking good.” His eyes lock onto yours as he uses his tongue to switch between flicking and sucking at your clit. Kazutora settles behind you, allowing you to somewhat rest against his back while he continuously plays with your nipples.

Baji’s tongue is dangerous, he’s messy. The feeling of the wet muscle in and out of your core causes a docile whine to reverberate from your throat. He keeps your shaky legs open with his large, calloused hands, his pointed nose inadvertently aiding in the pleasure stemming from your clit and the only way you can really react is by bucking your hips up like a desperate whore. You couldn’t help it, he knows he’s too good.

“Kei-Keisuke!” You stutter out, hand moving to tangle in his dark locks, tugging gently. He returns your whine with a groan, speeding up his ministrations which make your hole twitch around him, legs threatening to close any second. From his perspective, you looked like an angel. Everything about you so sweet, cute, and innocent. Just the thought of knowing how other men have had their way with you, gets him harder than a fucking rock.

It’s incredibly messy at this point. Kazutora’s lips take purchase on yours, kissing you sloppy and rough. His fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples cause you to go crazy, just a thread holding you back from your orgasm. You’re so incredibly wet too, Keisuke can’t even tell if the strings of slick dripping down the bedsheets come from his saliva or the growth of your arousal.

You can't take anymore at this point, opting to run away from the pleasure instead of giving in, but Baji’s hands grip hard around the fat of your thighs, keeping you still as he gives you a sharp glance, one that’s only a warning. Kazutora pulls away to recollect his breath, eyes scanning over the scene on display. There’s a dopey grin on his face that you miss as he watches your clit twitch. “Fuck, her pussy’s so pretty!”

“Gonna cum! L-Lemme cum!” Your voice is slurred, hips uncontrollably rutting into Baji’s mouth. He slows the jerking of his own hips against the mattress, pulling away from your heat and replacing the lost feeling with his fingers on your clit. He circles them against the nub with slight pressure, watching how your jaw drops open and sonorous mewls slip out.

“This whatcha wanted? Y’sound so pretty, even that pussy’s talkin’ ta me.”

You were too caught up in your own pleasure to even notice the raunchy squelches of your creamy cunt resonating throughout the room. How embarrassing.

It only takes a few more moments for your body to convulse under the sensation, your juices dripping down Kei’s arm and back arched against Kazutora’s chest. “Atta-fucking-girl! Look at that!” Tora coos. That signature smirk returns back to Baji’s features, mesmerized with the way your pussy pulses in orgasm. “We’re gonna have so much fun witcha tonight.”

Keisuke sits up, kneeling at one side of the bed, repositioning you so that you’re arched nice and pretty for him while Kazutora kneels at the other end, your face millimeters from his cock. Kei wraps five digits around the back of your neck, pulling you towards him to meet his eyes. You stare up at him with those angelic orbs, doe eyes rendering nothing behind them, just pure vacancy while you pout in the slightest, a reaction from his vice-like grip around your throat. “Y’gonna take it all for us?” A quiet mhm is muttered from your throat, Baji beaming down at you with his menacing smile, satisfied with your answer. “Be careful with Tora,” Keisuke lets his grip go and he leans down over you, whispering into your ear, loud enough for the other to hear. “He’s a throat fucker.”

He sits back up straight, unzipping his pants slowly before taking out his hard-on. If only you could see how much Kei leaked, just how huge it was. You could only guess when he teasingly slipped the tip in and out, entertained with the way you stretched around him. Kazutora, on the other hand, slides his length down your throat fully, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around his shaft, gradually building up a bobbing rhythm.

Kei wanes his teasing enough when he watches how well you envelop the half-blond. He slowly pushes into you at the hilt, sighing out a deep rasp before practically pounding your hole, leaving you no room to adjust to his massive cock.

God, his dick is fucking heavy. It stretches you out wide enough to the point where you feel as though your cunt can’t take anymore, all while your hands grip the sheets underneath you for leverage that only helps in the slightest. Tora’s hand grips at the hollow of your cheek while you continue to take as much of him as you can. He’s really trying his hardest to not let his hips take control and accept the pleasure you’re languidly giving him, yet he fails, letting his hips reel back and cock slip down your awaiting throat. His thrusts are hard in tandem with Baji’s, both the men using you to get off.

Little tears begin to pool at your waterline which Kazutora finds amusement in, fucking your throat at a faster, wilder pace. Vibrations from your throat shoot through the parameters of his length, eliciting a whimper which follows a groan. “So fuckin’ good, baby..”

A harsh slap stings across your ass once Keisuke finds his rhythm, the warmth and wetness of your hole inviting him in like he was just meant to be there. You wince in response, trying your hardest to not run from the pleasure. “Guess your men are good for something, cause fuck, you take it so well.” His hand slips down partially, enough for his thumb to enter your puckered hole, pumping the digit slowly. From this, your eyes roll into the back of your head, legs starting to feel like jello and even you can’t seem to keep yourself arched for him. “Y’got so tight after that, ‘s like you want me to cum in you.”

Your mind goes hazy, the only thing bouncing around in that empty brain of yours being the need to make a mess. Just the feeling alone of being used like a toy has your core tightening, the sign of your next orgasm. Tora’s grasp on your cheeks reach lower, the taut sensation of his hand now around your neck. He groans while watching as his cock struggles to fit down your throat. He could virtually grab his phone and record how he’s having his way with you, possibly use it for future reference when he’s alone and missing the warmth you give him.

“Ah shit, I think the little thing’s gonna cum. Is that right?” Keisuke goads, using both hands to pull your faltering hips back up. A tiny mhmm is sounded from your throat and he takes his fingers to rub your clit in tight circles. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he coaxed your orgasm from you, spit dripping from your lips and around Tora’s shaft as a sheer layer of your essence coats the entirety of Keisuke’s cock.

The sight of it all has Tora’s eyes crossing and balls tightening, being the first to shoot his load into your mouth. He gradually slows his movements to a halt, pulling from your mouth to give you a chance to finally breathe. You’re gasping, practically choking when air settles back into your lungs, your body shaking from the overstimulation of Baji inside your heat.

There’s a hard thrust, then another before Baji releases inside you, creating a beautiful mosaic of the messes you both made. Quite the artist, he was.

Before you know it, you’re being manhandled into yet another position, this time being ass up for Kazutora and face to cock with Baji. Just how much stamina do these guys have?

Kazutora’s first to slip in, a more fucked out moan leaving his lips when he observes the way his cock slips easily into your cunt. You’re so fucking wet, he can’t think straight. Baji lines his length up with your lips, shallowly pushing in. “Just the tip, sweetheart. Wanna see if you know how to control yourself.” You wrap your lips around his plush tip, sucking harshly.

Tora finally starts to move. You’re just too fucking wet he can’t help it when he’s already getting carried away, fucking you senseless. Such a mess on his cock, he’s lost.

It was easier to take in as much as Baji prohibited but with the trajectory of Hanemiya’s thrusts, you’re going past your limit.

“Kazutora, slow the fuck down. You got her chokin’ on my cock more than she usually does” Baji hisses out, vexation fueling his arousal. Even though it wasn’t your fault, you’d probably apologize if you could, let the man before you know that you were totally capable of at least trying to keep control. Much to no avail, Kazutora refuses to ease up, instead letting pleasure overrun his senses.

It was loud. The sounds of skin slapping, mixtures of whining and groaning, anyone from outside the door could probably walk past and hear just how cute you sounded getting fucked out your mind. Maybe that’s what they wanted, the whole establishment to know that you weren’t just Bonten’s little slut, but theirs too.

The next few moments whizz by like nothing, your hole getting stuffed for a second time and your tongue met with the acrid flavor of cum. You’re splayed across the bed, heaving for air with fatigue growing inside you hastily. “So, who d’ya think was better? Me or Kei?” It’s that giddy tone that lets you know it’s Kazutora speaking. Both the men seem unaffected from the previous situations yet you're the one left winded. “Both..You both were really, really good.”

Kazutora makes a buzzer-like sound, as if you’d been mistaken in your resolve. “Wrong! There’s only one winner.” Baji scoffs at Kazutora’s antics, checking the time on his phone. “We should probably head out, seems like races’ll start soon.”

“Do me a favor, baby..” Baji’s words hang off the tip of his tongue purposefully as he makes his way to you, standing you up and adjusting your outfit back in place. “Be good and keep our cum stuffed in this tight little hole, or else your boyfriends’ll be real upset.”

He tilts his head in a mocking manner and you nod along.

A quick wave of goodbye and wishes of “good luck!” leave your lips as you finally leave the BajiTora abode. Tonight’s race should be interesting one.

— In the end, it was Kazutora who reigned victorious, leaving Baji to his first defeat. The victor didn’t matter to them, they just enjoyed it; enjoyed being together whenever they could. For sure, Chifuyu would have to hear about this once they get back home.

After your limited experience of waving around a flag while trying to keep your panties from revealing too much, you grew tired, quite frankly. There had to be other things to do once races completed.

“Wonder what Koko’s doing!”

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whosyuno · 11 months

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hotel paradise (m) | ft. jung jaehyun

summary you visit an exclusive brothel to satisfy your needs. cw smut, praise, humiliation, toy play, light choking, squirting word count 3.1k a/n i'm thinking of turning this into a smut series featuring different members of nct hehe! chap two three

It’s only when you’ve spent half the night burrowing your vibrator between your thighs and it decided to die right before you’ve reached your climax, that you decided to take up your colleague’s suggestion.

Fresh out of a break-up, you had moved to Seoul a few months back. The money here was better anyways and you wanted to forget all about your ex. All your highschool friends that had moved to Seoul always talked about how Seoul was the It-Place. Where the people were wild and parties were wilder. You thought you were finally going to find people that brought the much needed excitement and thrill you desired, particularly in your bedroom. Your ex-boyfriend, although your highschool sweetheart, wasn’t the best in bed and most of his attempts had left you feeling unsatisfied and yearning for more… fun.

Of course, nothing ever turned out the way you wanted and, now, six months into your stay in Seoul, you’ve never had anyone approach you, much less touch you. But when one of your colleagues-turned-friends caught wind of your little situation, she had casually introduced you to “just the place to get your needs sorted”.

So that’s how, at 2:38AM on a Saturday, you found yourself standing before an unassuming building, its exterior the same dark maroon bricks as the surrounding buildings with a panel of frosted glass doors facing you. The light from within shone into the street, illuminating the empty night, if not for the lingering drunkards from the parties before.

You glanced down at your phone, at an invitation message, as you took a moment to steel your resolve. You tried to push out the thoughts of doubt out of your head. In any case, if Hotel Paradise was exclusive enough to require an invitation by an existing member, then that must be a green flag, right?

You were immediately greeted by a bleach-blond haired lady when you walked through the doors. She looked neat and tidy, which calmed your anxieties about this being a sketchy brothel just a little.

“Welcome to Hotel Paradise, I’m Taeyeon, what can I do for you?” she said, with a perfected customer service smile.

You showed her your invitation message, and she made quick work in creating a membership for you in the system.

“Any requests for tonight?” she asked and gestured towards the plaques in front of you.

Your cheeks were quick to turn pink at her direct question. You glanced over at the plaques on the surface of the reception desk. Laminated behind plastic, they detailed a list of 20 boys, with photos and a short list of their strengths. Amidst your fluster, you quickly pointed at the first one that caught your attention. Jung Jaehyun, Toy Play, Praise and Humiliation.

“Okay,” she said as her freshly manicured fingers ran across her keyboard, “looks like he’s free currently. Is there anything else you’d like?”

You shook your head, mortified to share any more of your kinks with a stranger - kinks that you didn’t even share with your ex.

It took a moment before Taeyeon motioned you to go up the spiral stairs behind the counter. Second room to your left, she mentioned. You swallowed your saliva, before walking into the room.

The room was quite spacious, with egg-white paint coating the walls, a neatly made king-sized bed in the middle and a decent bathroom attached. If it wasn't for the row of sex toys placed on the table at the foot of the bed, you could have fooled anyone into thinking it was a room in any respectable hotel.

“My, my, what a lovely guest,” the man in the middle of the room came to greet you.

Immediately, you were captivated by his looks. You had picked him, for the most part, due to his photo. But looking at him in person was a whole other experience. His fluffy brown hair was carelessly tossed backwards with a few stray strands perfectly framing his face. His almond-shaped eyes were pressed into crescents and only god knew how hard you’d fall for his dazzling smile.

His hands reached over and removed the little shoulder bag that you had brought with you. And in a smooth motion, his arm slipped around your waist as he guided you to sit on the bed. It was only now, sitting in front of Jaehyun, that you’d wished you had spent just a little more time in choosing a more appropriate outfit. In a rush to satisfy your needs and to save on laundry efforts, you had put on your office wear - a neat powder blue blouse tucked into wide legged black trousers - the same one that had worn to the office on Friday.

“Busy day, huh?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before resting his hand on your jawline.

You nodded; your cheeks flushed against his warm touch. Your attention was entirely drawn in by him and his effortless charm.

“I’ll reward you for working hard,” he said before gently kissing you.

His lips, soft and plump, pressed against yours softly, as if testing out the waters. Once, then twice. And another. When your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer, his tongue skillfully parted your lips and darted into your mouth. He tasted like cool mint, and you caught a whiff of his sandalwood cologne. The intensity and fervour of the kiss only increased with each passing moment. Lust ignited a flame within you that spread across your body.

He used his body weight and pushed you down on the bed, with one knee between your legs to balance. His hand wandered around your body, caressing your breast, your waist and your butt before his fingers made quick work of your pants’ button and zipper. He slid the trousers off and, with a little kick from you, threw the pants across the room.

His lips then left yours for a moment, and it drew out a whine that you had never heard yourself make. It pleased him to hear your voice. You watched as a simple make out transformed the sweet and charming man into a lustful one. His once inviting smile morphed into a thirsty smirk, his lips were swollen, and his eyes burned with desire.

He left the bed for a moment, picking up your trousers and a small vibrator from the table before returning to you. He used the trousers as a makeshift rope to tie both your wrists to the bedpost and before dropping down between your legs.

“You look so pretty from down here,” he said as he placed the small vibrator against your clothed clit.

He moved it up and down, along your slit, taking in your moans of pleasure. He watched your every effort to push yourself closer to climax: how you’d buck your hips when the vibe hitted the right spot, how your moans got louder and less restrained and how your hands struggled against the bedpost.

“Please, please, please,” you cried out, “please let me cum- oh my god, I’m so close.”

Everything you did only pleased him further.

“You’re such a little slut, aren’t you?” He slid the vibrator away from your clit, “Already cumming for a stranger you’ve barely met?”

Your hips bucked and adjusted, hoping to feel the vibrator again, “Please, please.”

You whined and moaned but all he did was watch. His control was immaculate, he’d place the vibrator against your clit and just as you were about to cum, he’d take it off. Then he did it again. And again.

“Say it,” he said, “Let me hear it. What are you?”

A blush of mortification coloured your cheeks, no one had ever called you a slut.

“I’m…” You struggled to get the words out.

Jaehyun punished your hesitation by pushing the vibrator against your clit again.

You whined and were reminded of the reward at the end of the sentence, “I’m a slut. I’m a slut just for you.”

Pleased with your words and your desperation, Jaehyun finally let you cum, “That’s right, cum for me, slut. You’re such a good slut for me.”

He watched as the ecstasy ebbed through your body, your hips bucking high before crashing down against the bed, your fingers digging into your palms and your lips carelessly spewing out ‘thank you’s and ‘oh my god’s.

“That felt good, right?”

You nodded, albeit a little tired from that singular orgasm. It’s not an exaggeration to say that no one had made you feel the way his touch did. Forcing you to brand yourself as a slut sparked a new thrill for yourself. Everything he did only drew you into his lust-driven heaven.

He let you rest for a brief moment, as he swapped out the small vibrator for a vibrating dildo this time.

Watching Jaehyun put the dildo in his hands, you perked up with more energy.

By now, your cotton panties had been drenched in your juices. So, Jaehyun slipped them off to reveal your pussy. It’s been awhile since you’ve shaved, it wasn’t like you had anyone to show them to. This was an impromptu decision you had made. You immediately shut your legs up together, hiding them in embarrassment.

Jaehyun responded by softly prying your legs open, “no need for shyness now, kitten.”

His words were charming and comforting, which gave you just that little boost of confidence that you had needed. You opened your legs again.

This time, a newfound hunger engulfed Jaehyun at the sight of your glistening core.

He was quick to abandon his initial plan, lowering himself between your legs before burying himself into your thighs. Like a parched lion, his tongue was quick to lap up your juices.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he mumbled against your core, the vibration created a new sensation and drew out a soft mewl from you.

His tongue moved skillfully, each motion methodical and purposeful. He alternated between licking up and down your wet heat and swirling his tongue around your swollen clit. Either way, your head was dizzy with arousal. Your hips grinded against his face, searching for another release. Explicit words mixed with his name and your pleas carelessly tumbled out of your lips. Try as you might, you could barely contain your voice.

You hadn’t noticed it, but in the midst of your pleasure, Jaehyun had managed to push a singular finger into your core. His initial finger worked slower than his mouth, it’s only when a second finger thrusted into you that you felt him. The new sensation added to the maddening haze.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined, your body stiffening in anticipation.

“Cum,” his command was firm, “cum for me, my pretty little slut.”

The release was instantaneous, arousal flooded your system and your entire body quaked with pleasure. You almost saw white with that release. Your body heaved with a singular motion, crashing down into the bed. But Jaehyun didn’t let you rest; he was quick to replace his fingers with the vibrating dildo that he had chosen previously. A gasp escaped your lips, feeling yourself stretch around the foreign object. He turned it out and began pumping it into you. He ignored your pleas, revelling in the dishevelled sight of you. Office drone turned into a moaning mess. A twisted pleasure coursed through your body, a tinge of pain from sensitivity mixed with the dildo drilling into your g-spot. You begged him to stop, he didn’t. Your body buckled under the overstimulation; you were sure you were going to die if he didn’t stop.

You caught a glimpse of his wicked smirk, taking pride in his work.

Then, you fell from the cusp of your pleasure. A stream of clear liquid squirted from between your legs and onto Jaehyun’s face. Your eyes widened when you came to it, the first time that you had ever squirted. The pink flush on your cheeks reddened with more embarrassment. But before you had the time to apologise and explain that you didn’t intend on squirting all over him, he spoke first.

“Look at you, squirting all over me,” Jaehyun said, discarding the dildo, “I barely did anything, you know.”

His velvety voice sent shivers down your spine. Your humiliation grew under the weight of his words, and the truth of the situation. He was a stranger that you’ve barely met, and here you were cumming so easily at his every touch. His eyes, filled with great desire, burned into yours, and that thrill you felt under his gaze only further cemented the truth. You were acting like a complete slut for him.

You watched as he removed his jeans, then boxers. The sight of his member had your mouth salivating over it. You didn’t know you were such a slut. You could feel the growing heat between your legs as your mind conjured up images of his dick drilling into you. A foreign desire to just let him devour you arose. A strange impatience took over your mind whilst watching him slip on a condom.

“Why?” he crawled back on the bed, hovering over your body, “Like what you see?”

He didn’t wait for your reply, instead choosing to immediately thrust into you. A loud gasp escaped your throat. He felt bigger than you’d imagined. You were sure that he would split your body in half if he was any bigger and was grateful that he gave you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled. He adjusted himself, with one hand holding on to the bedframe for balance, and the other rested around your neck.

“Stop giving me such erotic looks, whore,” a twisted grin spread across his handsome face, “it only makes me want to mess you up even more.”

His hips moved with practiced ease, each thrust deep and impactful and drew out loud gasps from you. He started rocking his hips quicker and sloppier, his hand tightening along the sides of your neck. You’ve never been choked before, but that new stimulation drove you crazy. The slight almost-drunk dizziness from the asphyxiation only intensified every one of Jaehyun’s thrust.

“Oh?” he panted out with amusement, “You like getting choked, don’t you?”

He watched as your eyes rolled back and how your face scrunched with pleasure under his touch. The constant stream of melody that was your voice devolved from words and pleas into incoherent mewls and moans.

“You’re squeezing me so tight. Expected nothing less from my favourite slut.”

His hips moved with increasing impatience, as the both of you chased the highs of an orgasm. His grip on your neck only tightened, drawing small crescents into your skin. He grunted and groaned with less of the control he seemed to have.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he said and you doubted, with what little sanity remained within you.

Your hair was completely messed up, from your constant squirming. The baby hair along your hairline had been stuck on your face with your sweat. You’re pretty certain your make-up - just a touch of eyeliner and nude lipstick - had all been smudged by sweat and tears. If anything, you’re sure you looked like a messed-up whore.

Still, Jaehyun leaned down and connected your lips with fervour. His warm tongue darted quickly between your lips and danced with yours, sucking and twirling your tongue. His thrusts didn’t slow down, and instead continuously rammed into your sweet little spot.

At this moment, you were completely intoxicated by his touches. He studied you well though, knowing that you were on the edge of your orgasm.

“Aw, are you about to cum?” he said with mocking sympathy, “You’re gonna cum on a stranger’s dick?”

You felt your ears turn red at his questions. The shame and guilt all twisting into a strange pleasure. You weren’t used to this, but you craved it more.

“I’ll allow it,” he said, “you look so pretty cumming. Cum for me, slut.”

There’s a disconnect between his words, a sort-of whiplash. One moment he called you pretty, another he was completely condescending. And yet, you liked it. You liked being his little slut. You liked looking pretty for him. And most of all, you liked obeying him.

That desire to obey, however, fell short of Jaehyun’s expectations. A twisted anger filling his eyes as his hand punished your neck with an even tighter grip - you were barely gasping for air at this point.

“I said, cum for me,” he growled before spitting in your face.

The warm spit against your cheek swirled with the hypnotising haze of being choked and gave you the push you need to slip into a mindblowing orgasm. Your entire body spasmed in pleasure as desperate moans left your lips. Your toes curled tight, and your fingers scratched the bedpost. The orgasm lasted a solid a few seconds, but the waves of oxytocin still washed over you as you basked in the afterglow, serving as minor orgasms.

But Jaehyun wasn’t a man of patience, especially not when you laid under him, completely writhing with pleasure with a look of complete daze. Your still-spasming core squeezed his dick tight and coupled with a few sloppy thrusts were enough to send him into an orgasm as well.

He moaned and stiffened, his orgasm translated into deep and impactful thrusts as he rode out his orgasm. Your body was at a complete subservience to his orgasm, with Jaehyun not caring about your verbal protests from the overstimulation nor the way your hips and legs were shaking.

It took him a few moments, before he came crashing down on the bed next to you panting. The lust-driven demon seemed to disappear at an instance as a sweet smile replaced his previous smirk.

“Satisfied?”

You nodded shyly. He helped you out of the makeshift knot, finally freeing you. Your wrists were left with red marks, to which he apologised with a dimpled smile.

“It’s fine,” you assured him, “I… liked it.”

After all, your wrists would be evidence of this experience.

Later on, he was quick to attend to your every need - bringing you water, tissues to clean up, and a fresh set of bathrobes - and insisted that you sleep in the room, at least until the sun was up, promising to not touch you unless you wanted him to. You almost let yourself be deluded into thinking that this was anything but professionalism from a staff of Hotel Paradise.

In the morning, before you left for home, Jaehyun parted with words that would haunt you for the week to come.

“I hope to see you again. I really do.”

#jaehyun smut #jaehyun #nct smut #nct #mine

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dreamingofbucky · 11 months

Text

Inescapable

chapter one

summary: moving to a new neighborhood in Nueva York meant new places to see and new people to meet. Miguel O'Hara is an enigma. and after having a failed date attempt with him, you find out he's your coworker. but he's not the same man you've been pining over the last few weeks. He's much more cruel and something's not right.

warnings: uhhh dick!miguel? lol red flags but reader's blind and just thinks of him between her thighs despite his cocky attitude ayoo.

wordcount: 2.3k

author's note: mainly intro to series sorry if it's boring 😭 i can't wait to amp up the tension in the next chapter!

tag list: @yehet-moi-ohorat @127aliciia

series masterlist

It all happened so abruptly.

Moving to a new part of Nueva York wasn’t something you expected. Getting a new job meant a higher salary, which meant you could afford a little better than most with what you’ve been able to save up and then what you’d be earning. But even ‘better’ wasn’t great.

You unpacked your bags into your one bedroom apartment that seemed bigger and better maintained on the photos online. It didn’t pass you by the way the door in the bathroom jiggles a little out of the door hinges as if one more slam will make the whole damn thing fall down.

And you didn’t have the energy to deal with the damn outlet in the kitchen that would reset any device connected to it every two hours. You definitely weren’t going to put your coffee pot there. You liked to wake up to a freshly brewed pot with an automatic timer.

The apartment next door sat vacant since you moved in. You enjoyed it quite a bit, remembering how your last set of neighbors were up all hours of the night either blasting music, fucking, or arguing. You enjoyed the peace and quiet a little too much.

Quite frankly, you’ve become comfortable with the silence pertaining to Unit 209.

Despite that, things have been moving along swiftly and pleasantly in your life. You even bumped into someone three weeks ago walking down the street and it wasn’t just someone. He was sweet and kind, laughing at the mistake of you switching phones by accident after the collision. Thinking his phone was yours until you realized your phone didn’t have the cutest princess as the one on the lock screen. He fumbled for a little, with his stance and his words, as you both switched phones to the appropriate owners. He said it was his daughter on the screen.

His name was Miguel O’Hara, he’d said. You told him yours and his eyes lit up like he’s never heard a name quite like yours before. And it sounded like rich honey coming off his lips when he repeated it. This just made your cheeks burn and flutters swarm all over your body.

Next thing you knew, you bumped into him in all parts of your new town. The grocery store, the park where you like to run, and even the flower shop. He swore he knew nothing about flowers and was just trying to get some for his daughter for some school project. You’d laughed and helped him pick out the best kinds.

All of these chance encounters that really led to nothing were starting to bug you until that one day he finally asked for your number. It took him a while to finally do so, but you were thankful that the universe somehow made it its mission to collide your pathways to constantly see him.

You texted here and there, not much different to your dismay from the collisions in town that made you think he wanted more. You didn’t even know much else about the man besides he had a daughter and he liked that steakhouse a few blocks from your place.

You hoped to change that soon, and that’s when it seemed like the universe was on your side.

He asked you out for dinner at that steakhouse.

And then stood you up.

***

You wanted to believe that there was good in people. Even the most honest ones. But there seemed to always be an anomaly that infected everyone.

You had your flaws and your omissions. You had your quirks that only you’d ever witness within the walls of your apartment. And you had your utter disappointment in people that lied and dragged you along. Like him.

Miguel O’Hara.

You waited for one hour in that damn steakhouse before you gave up, asked for a check and then went home. You thought he’d at least pick you up from your place, finally get to see your new place. Funny now, he’s the least of who you’d like entering it.

That humiliating night only fed your anger more until it was time to start your new job. You took the following weekend to relax, take a bath in that glorious tub that might have some scratches and chipping, but it was divine. You didn’t have a tub in your old place.

Monday morning came abruptly and you were excited for new things. New job, new you as you liked to joke.

Slipping on your favorite flower dress and golden necklace for good luck and you were out of the door, heading to the campus that would hold your new job title. Alchemax was bigger than you remembered from your interview and tour and your division was in the skyscraper on a tippy top floor. There seemed to be endless halls to lose yourself in. Even your department was large. To the point where if there was a project that needed to be completed, they had to break you guys off into groups to get multiple done at once.

But you liked your job. You liked being able to focus on what you studied your ass off for years at school. It wasn’t everyday that people in your city could say the same. With the effects of the Rapture that took over the city ages ago, crime and violence had only heightened. You leaned heavily on those action packed superhero films sometimes wondering if Nueva York would ever get better.

You knew superheroes weren’t real. They didn’t exist. But you still hoped that there was something better coming for your city. You loved it, really. But you also hated it.

***

“Here’s your project packet with your team members listed,” a loud voice boomed behind you. It was your supervisor and he looked annoyed.

It was your fourth day, so you slapped on a smile and nodded, grabbing the packet. You’d only met the few coworkers that milled about your office space, but there was a whole floor to get to know. You buried yourself in your work, with it just being your first week, so you didn’t really socialize even when it came to lunchtime. You liked to take your lunch outside anyway to watch the birds in the sky or dream about a life where there wasn’t always crime afoot.

You sighed and plopped the packet on your desk and flipped to the first page where your team member’s names would be listed. Your eyes scanned the first line and your eyes bugged out.

Miguel O’Hara.

This must be some cruel joke, right?

You haven’t heard from this man in a week and here he is. In plain black letters on your desk. You didn’t miss the way your heart skipped a beat and your cheeks burned.

His was the only name next to yours. It’d just be you two. You took a deep breath and mentally prepared yourself. The packet thankfully showed which office area he works under, so you stood up and made your way to it. The packet was clutched tightly between your arms and hugged your chest. Your purple dress today flowed a little around your thighs. You liked wearing dresses to work, despite some of the looks you’d get.

You even heard one coworker joke that this wasn’t some kind of Victoria’s Secret runway which just didn’t make sense. Every outfit you chose fit the guidelines that were given to you upon your first day. You didn’t like the way slacks molded to your body. You felt much more comfortable with a flowy dress and heels.

Your steps echoed down the hall until you took a right and were met with a few other workers muttering at their screen, their phones, or each other. You scanned the faces until you saw the one you needed all the way in the back. He was staring at his screen, hunched over with his wide shoulders. You couldn’t see his face just yet, but you already knew how he looked.

Handsome as ever. You’d never forget a face like that. It only bummed you out more that things didn’t progress and the date ultimately ended with you cursing him forever. You had a twinge of guilt that maybe something happened with his daughter that made him not show. But he would’ve texted or called, right?

You shook your head, not wanting to think about the failed attempt to get to know the man and marched your way over to his area. He doesn’t turn around or look up when you make your final step. Your hip is aligned with his shoulder and you clear your throat.

He finally turns to look, not amused in the slightest. Not even an indication that he recognized you or blew you off. Two can play at that game.

What was once an idea to play off the horrible date and start off fresh by introducing yourself and striking conversation and even making a joke that you didn’t realize he worked at Alchemax, you bit your tongue.

His eyes glance a little at your dress and your waist, but then flickers back to your face.

Your breath hitches in the slightest at his remarkable beauty. Fuck, you forgot how good he looked up close. His brown eyes narrowed a bit, watching you silently. You swallowed, but it seemed like there was cotton stuck in your mouth.

“We’ve got that project to work on,” you finally mutter, tapping your heeled toe on the ground.

“What project?” He replied with a bitter tone. He turns back to look at his computer and your impatience flares.

“The one that we were assigned to,” you huff. To prove a point, you slam the packet down on his table and he pushes his chair back. You hold your breath as you watch his features change. From confused to annoyed, to outright cold.

You want to say something, anything. Even possibly bring up the fact that he still hasn’t apologized or made up an excuse for the missed date. And that he’s acting like a complete ass right now, not even acknowledging you!

Your anxious habits come back to life as your toe continues to tap. A scowl forms on his face. He runs thick fingers through his wavy brown hair. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t imagine your own hands running through those strands. Either when you kissed him or you had him in between your thighs. But those were just dreams that never came to fruition because of this asshole.

You bet his hair was soft too.

You shake your head, attempting to pull yourself out of your own misery.

“I was transferred to this department last minute,” he finally says. “Not supposed to be in any of these ‘group projects’. I’ve got other things to do. Not being tied to anyone.”

And with that, he lifts his hand and waves you off. That fucker waves you off. Like you’re his butler or something waiting for his command to go.

It takes everything in you to not slap that smug look off his face. To not make a scene. But it’s your first week and you’re already finding coziness in your new apartment you wouldn’t be able to afford without this job. That was something you couldn’t give up. Also not the best choice to drain almost all your savings on that damn security deposit and rent payment.

This prick was not going to ruin that for you.

“I’ll do the work then, and you can do whatever the hell it is that you do.”

His head snaps to look at you and his lips twitch. Without warning, he rises. And that’s when you forget how tall the man is. But it seems like he’d gotten taller since the last time you saw him in person. You think it was the flower shop or the park when you’d last seen Miguel O’Hara. He also looked more muscular. Arms protruding a little more in his button down and his shoulders seemed to have little more meat to them. He’s even got some faint scars on his neck.

Did you ever notice those before?

You were definitely losing it.

He peers down at you like you’re some child being lectured for stealing candy out of the cupboard. His hands go to his waist and he leans, hovering over you. It feels almost predatory like. You swallow again.

“You do that,” he finally says.

That’s it. That’s all he says.

“I can’t believe you,” the words tumble out of your mouth without warning. You bite your lip, hoping no one else heard that. You don’t want to have to start rivalries with coworkers during your first week. But this man enrages you.

“Believe it,” he spits before taking a side step. You watch as he shakes his head and walks out of the office area. You don’t know where the hell he’s going.

You glance over at his desk and see that he’s got some things set up around the space. A card with a watercolor rose petal over it. Possibly something his daughter got for him for his birthday or something. A picture of his daughter sits by the computer monitor and made your heart lurch in your chest.

And then something else that caught your eye. You look around the area to only see busy workers paying you no mind before you extend your hand and pull it out from under a manual guide.

It’s a tiny piece of paper, in the same shape as a business card. There was some chicken scratch on it, but when you peer closer to read you gasp.

Dinner at 7 at the Steakhouse. Don’t forget flowers for her. Wear your best suit. It matches her eyes.

It was all there. The date you were supposed to have with Miguel.

Why did he still have the reminder card on his desk if he completely forgot about it?

And why did he act like he didn’t know you at all?

#miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara atsv #dreamingofbuckyfics

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pacentia · 5 months

Text

Pairing: female human!reader x Homelander

Setting: somewhere post season 3

Synopsis: just a lil drabble about providing John the home and the family that he so desperately craved.

Tags: nsfw cause it's Homelander, sweetness, intimacy, love, Homelander has his kids, Homelander relaxes for once

Note: my boyfriend made me watch The Boys. Little did he know I was going to develop a pathological crush on a broken homicidal maniac ❤️

“Daddy, look!”

It was a simple word that John was never going to take for granted. A word that his super-hearing could pick out of a thousand voices from miles away. If any -fucking- one would ever dare lay a hand on his beautiful and pure daughter - John swore he was going to -

“John, get out of your head.” You smiled at your lover, America’s most powerful superhero, the man that you called your husband. He lounged on the patio of your spacious mansion in Long Island, American flag waving in the wind, overlooking the big green gated garden in which your baby girl Jane was playing and running around. At last, he was finally enjoying a day off from all of those idiot cocksuckers at Vought, his words.

John’s stoic face snapped into a broad smile, accompanied by a million micro-expressions when you joined from the kitchen, bringing freshly baked chocolate cookies into the scene. Honest to God, he had everything that his pained heart missed in front of him: a perfect wife, his son Ryan, and his baby Jane. The young girl’s eyes widened, and she ran like a speedster to the source of the smell.

“When your daughter asks you to look, you better look.” You grinned, placing a soft kiss on his unruly blond locks, taking a bite from one of your cookies. John grinned to himself, and reached out his strong arms to his daughter, inviting the girl in his arms. She didn’t hesitate to jump right in his lap. “Here, a flower for daddy.” Jane giggled, placing a pink flower in his blonde hair.

The combination of a pink flower decorating his hair, and the violent background that he possessed was quite a hilarious contrast. The Supe didn’t give two fucks about that, he’d let his daughter put a whole fucking flower crown on his head. Anything she wanted was law. Your children were incredibly spoiled, because John wanted everything for them that he’d never got to experience. He had a rocky start with Ryan, but John had learned patience in time, much against his own nature.

You weren’t related to Ryan in any way, but you knew what had happened 5 years ago when he first released his heat gaze. He went through traumatic stuff, and you were always there to comfort him. His dad taught him how to harness his growing powers over the years, but he was too shy to get introduced to the Seven and Vought and all that shit. Vought was a huge fan in pushing Ryan to follow in Homelander’s footsteps, to become the next commander of the Seven. However, John quickly realized that his son expressed little interest, so he zapped that idea down (much to his own pain).

To the outside world, Homelander was still the same heroic figure. To Vought, he was the same nightmare to deal with.

But you loved him.

All of him. All of his insecurities, his simultaneous God complex, his devious desires and his bloodlust. He was convinced that his kind was the master race, but you, a mere human, held a special place in his heart. You were his darling girl that was able to give him a home, and accepted him for the fucked up man that he was. He had already incinerated and executed people for you. It’s a way he showed his devotion to you.

And he’d do anything to keep that little princess in his arms safe, no matter the cost. Same with Ryan, and with you.

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #dadlander #the boys #homelander fanfiction

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ariesqueencobra · 2 months

Text

what we used to be | XVll

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: The morning after Moon's party and the first day of junior year. Things go nothing as expected...

Warnings: dojo rivalry, extreme violence, major injury, swearing, it's the school fight y'all, you know what happens

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Uh-oh, drama....

Thank you to those who already reblog and comment, I see you and I love you all for it!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

You woke up the next morning, unaware of your surroundings until you realized you were in Eli’s room. Memories of last night flooded your mind and your heart wrenched at the kiss you shared with him. Brushing your finger over your lips, you felt more pained at the lack of regret from the action.

A knock was heard at the door and you turned to find Eli, dressed for school already. He greeted you with a smile, gaze running over your freshly woken-up state. You grew self-conscious but part of you felt that he wasn’t thinking anything negative.

“My mom texted your mom you crashed here,” he explained. “She dropped your bag off and a change of clothes on her way to work so you don’t have to go,” he gestured to the overnight bag in his hand along with your backpack.

“Thanks,” you smiled, getting out of bed and running a hand over your head.

“Seems like your ankle is feeling better,” he grinned, noticing you were walking on your own.

“Yeah, thanks again,” you smiled before walking into the hall and grabbing the overnight bag from him.

After brushing your teeth and getting ready in the bathroom, you walked back into his room, feeling refreshed. You found him at his desk, packing his bag before he turned to you.

“My mom made blueberry pancakes since they’re your favorite,” he smiled, walking up to you.

“Aww, that’s so sweet of her,” you cooed, turning to grab your backpack and make sure everything was packed. “I’ll probably leave the other bag here, pick it up after school,” you placed your hands on your hips.

“Sounds good,” he took a step closer.

You felt your face heat up at the proximity. “Ready?” You nodded towards the kitchen.

“Wait, just one thing,” he smirked, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him. It was instant, his other hand flying to your waist and his lips crashing on yours.

You pressed a hand to his chest, feeling dazed as you moved your lips along his for a moment before you managed to remember what was going on. “Eli, what are you doing?” You stepped away, placing a hand to your mouth.

Your heart was beating out of your chest.

“Last night,” he trailed, brows furrowed.

“It was one kiss,” you said, licking your lips.

“Right,” his jaw ticked, glancing down. “My mistake,” he brushed past you.

You hated the change in his demeanor. The moment you told him off and he didn’t want to be around you anymore? You should be glad though, you needed the reminder.

If breakfast was awkward, the car ride to school was hell.

You kept quiet but the tension of having Eli being so cold was odd, unnerving.

“Thanks again,” you fidgeted with the straps of your bag as he parked. “I guess I’ll see you around school,” you pressed your lips in a thin line.

“Yeah, see you around,” he didn’t bother to look at you as you made it out of the car.

You shrugged your backpack over your shoulders, Demetri’s frame coming into view and you cocked a brow at his shocked expression.

“Did I just see you with Eli?” Demetri asked. “Did he hurt you?” His eyes widened at your slight limp.

“No,” you blew out a breath, walking in together. “I sprained my ankle.”

“And how does this lead to him driving you to school?” He asked.

“After the party, which hey, thanks for abandoning me,” you shot him a look. “I tripped and he helped me. Since my parents weren’t home, he took me to his place,” you explained. “My mom dropped off my stuff this morning.”

“He took you to his home? Were his parents home? Y/N, read the red flags,” he emphasized with his hands.

You blew out a breath. “Demetri, really?” You cocked a brow. “He was just helping,” you shrugged.

“Did anything happen?” He glanced at you expectedly, almost as if he already knew something did.

You felt ashamed, face heating up as you thought back to last night.

“We talked,” you shrugged. “And we kissed,” you sighed. “Just one kiss,” you felt guilty for admitting it. “You should’ve seen him, Demetri, he was himself again and I gave in, I still love him,” you dropped your head. “And this morning he kissed me thinking we got back together,” you pouted. “I've never been kissed like that before,” you emphasized.

“You have because you’ve only kissed him,” he cocked a brow at you. “But I guess I understand, it’s not easy watching him change. I’d do anything to have things be normal again,” he shrugged.

You sent him a sympathetic look, realizing he lost his best friend too. “If only he wasn’t an ass.”

“Hey, maybe someday in the future, we’ll be the three musketeers again,” he patted your shoulder. “Now, c’mon, we’re going to be late for AP Bio,” he wrapped his arm around your neck, loosely.

His change in tone lightened the mood.

You were grateful you still had Demetri.

“Remind me why I decided to take that class again?” You asked.

“Blame your mother,” he joked, making you laugh.

The class announcements were sounding off through the intercom when there was a commotion going on. The announcer was struggling and you glanced at Demetri, curiosity spreading across both your features.

“Sam LaRusso, you know what you did,” Tory’s voice rang. “I’m coming for you, bitch,” she spat then feedback was heard.

The room grew in hushed whispers before everyone bolted up when the disturbance grew in the halls.

Sending Demetri a look, you followed him, confusion all over your face until you approached a huddle, Sam and Tory facing off.

“I saw what you did at the party, you kissed Miguel,” Tory seethed.

Sam was speechless, glancing at a hurt Robby.

Your heart ached, not able to imagine Eli cheating on you or you on him. As much of an ass he was, you don’t think he’d ever hurt you in that way.

Too caught up in your mind you almost missed when Tory swung first, repeatedly hitting Sam.

Your friend protected herself from the hits, trying to escape but Tory caught her, kicking her in the back.

Sam went flying, being caught by Eli and his buddies.

The group cackled as Eli shoved her back into the fight.

Your heart wrenched.

This should be stopping.

Deciding it best, you ran towards the girls much to the dismay of Demetri. You were about to grab onto Tory’s shoulder when hands squeezed your arms, pushing you against them.

“Stay out of this,” Eli gritted, grip tight before he pulled you along with him, holding you back as the fight ensued.

“Get off of me!” You batted at his arms and he listened, but he didn’t let you interfere, arm blocking your path.

Robby did though, pushing Tory against the lockers. That’s when Miguel joined in and the two boys began fighting.

All hell broke loose.

Eli pushed you off to the side as he punched two students, screaming through the halls. You backed into the lockers, keeping yourself safe.

You watched as everyone paired off, Miyagi-Do vs. Cobra Kai. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Moon pleading for everyone to get along. Eyes widening, you hurried over, pulling her out of the way before she got body-slammed into the lockers.

A scream escaped her as the guys hit the lockers, barely missing her.

“Are you okay?” You asked her.

She nodded, backing into the crowd.

The fights continued, Tory pushing Sam down another hall and the crowd pushed you to follow as the fight broke out at the school entrance by the stairs.

Demetri came through the doors with a teacher but after seeing his co-worker get hurt by a student, he walked out. Then Eli caught sight of Demetri before he ran after him.

The fury in his eyes made your heart raced and you knew you needed to go after them.

Picking up your pace, you turned down the hall, losing sight of them and you weren’t sure if they had gone left or right. You shouted for Demetri, hoping you’d find him before Eli but it was hard to catch your breath, the pain radiating in your ankle was slowing you down, and panic set in.

You shouted for him again, your heart raced at the idea of what Eli would do to him. Turning back around, you bumped into someone.

A familiar face came into view and you recognized your old friend, Rickenberger. A student of Cobra Kai.

“You’re cute if you think I’m gonna let you get past me,” he snickered. “Your little friend deserves what Hawk will do to him, same as you,” he stared you down.

“I’m not here to play games,” you scoffed, backing away. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Can’t let that happen, traitor,” he held your shoulder, stopping you.

“So, what? You’re gonna fight me?” You sneered. “You’re insane,” you bumped shoulders with him. Your brows furrowed as you passed him but they raised in shock the moment he pushed you, sweeping your legs out from under you.

You screamed in pain, the impact hurting your ankle as you landed on the tile floor.

“You could’ve been on the right side, but no, you had to join Miyagi-Do,” he squatted down, pinning his hand to your back and kneeling on your arm to prevent you from getting up.

“Why are you doing this?” You gritted in pain.

“Because you’re a traitor,” he spat. “You leaving Cobra Kai affected us all, we wanted to get back at you for what you did,” he gritted.

“We?” Your heart broke at the thought that Eli would want to hurt you physically.

“Don’t get all teary-eyed, Hawk didn’t want us doing shit. Why do you think I’m taking my chance now that you’re all alone? No boyfriend to protect you,” he snickered.

His teasing sent anger to course through you and you yelled, taking him off balance, and punching him square in the face.

He fell to the side, face touching his cheek before he spit out blood. The stare he sent you wasn’t friendly but you were already on your feet, ready for whatever he threw your way.

Charging at you with a raised fist, you remember wax on, wax off. Ingrained in your memory you managed to block his hits, sending a powerful punch right in his chest.

“You think Hawk’s gonna like you hurting me?” You spat, you pushed your hair out of your face.

He chuckled. “He’s not going to know a thing.”

Swinging his leg, he threw you off guard, landing a kick to your side.

You faltered, your weight falling on your bad ankle and you hissed in pain. The stress placed on it made your limp more noticeable compared to before. You were at a disadvantage.

He struck again, this time sending a punch right in your face.

You flew back, clutching your nose and you saw blood. Then he threw another and another. You blocked the last, using your good leg to kick him away. As he fell back, you tasted blood and the adrenaline found its way back into your body. Standing a few feet from you, he watched you with such mockery. You began running towards him, ignoring the pain in your ankle.

He couldn’t think before you engulfed him, using your momentum to spin him into the air and crush him to the tile. He groaned out in pain as you stood over him.

“We shouldn’t be fighting,” you heaved, that move taking it out on you.

He stared up at you, face contorted in pain. He didn’t say anything, almost contemplating and you thought you had him but he grabbed your bad ankle, sending you to the floor.

You couldn’t process it until he grabbed you under the arms, hoisting you up like a child. You stared at him in shock, your feet brushing the floor. You used your free arms to punch and push at his face but it was no use, he wasn’t budging. You tried so hard to fight him back, the pain in your underarms becoming evident. It was uncomfortable. You couldn’t get the upper hand, it was useless, at the end of the day he was stronger and you were injured.

He had fury in his eyes as he screamed and threw you against the lockers with all his might.

The ringing of the impact filled your ears and immediately, a sharp pain was felt on the side of your head. You fell to the ground, limbs limp. Your vision was blurry, your mind was confused about why stars were shining inside the halls. Something warm and wet dribbled down the side of your face as he said something.

“No mercy, bitch,” he spat.

That was the last thing you heard before all the noise rang out and everything turned black.

#eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz #hawk x reader #cobra kai

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mysticmellowlove · 1 year

Text

yan streamer being delusional

a/n - bro i need someone to pick me up, tell me why i had three back to back assignments and it's the end of the semester. STOP PUTTING ALL THE ASSIGNMENTS AT THE END OF THE SEMESTER!!! also I'm getting there with the requests! swear to god I'll put more stuff out soon, i want to leave these stupid lab reports behind and get back to fucking submissive men.

warnings; gn reader pronouns, yandere behaviour, yandere streamer, yandere male, sub yandere, kinda a joke but not really, not edited at all

word count; 1544

If fifteen year old you were to look into the future you probably wouldn't have liked what you saw. As a freshly graduated student with a bachelor's degree the whole world expected you to be some professional business partner but here you were... modding for a popular twitch streamer.

In all honesty it wasn't that bad, and the environment around job hiring was insane at the moment anyway. You wouldn't have been able to find a job even if you tried. The streamer paid well enough, especially considering all you had to do was flag underhanded and inappropriate comments. It was lucrative... for someone who didn't have a home loan to pay off.

A sigh left your mouth as you watched the chat scroll by. You had been watching this guy before you even got a job underneath him, sometimes background noise was good while you were studying. His content had taken a turn from those quiet streams where he talked about daily life to what he was doing now though. Now he was much more popular and he played only the newest games.

Did you wish sometimes he would go back and check up on his old game profiles? Yes. Did you care enough to suggest that to him? No. Life moves on.

Your eyes trained on a particular comment, distasteful as usual, and you got rid of it. Flagging and banning the commenter so your streamer could look into it later.

"Thank you Sugar." Your lips pursed. The job pated well, the content was interesting and you didn't have to leave your home. The chat filled up with heart emojis and kissy face emojis. Some of them were even customised to look like your discord profile picture (designed by the other person who had seen it; the streamer himself).

There was just one downside, both the streamer and his chat were weirdly into you. Or you as a mod you guessed. Still, you didn't mind it, at least not usually. Human interaction was good, even if it was through a screen.

The rest of his stream went well, thanks to the effort of you and the other mods. As soon as the screen had closed you pushed your chair make and groaned as your stretched your muscles out. It was pretty late and you were kinda hungry. There was a little restaurant that stayed open later than usual on the ground floor of the apartment building you lived in but the quality was questionable.

After deciding that your stomach was going to eat itself you threw on a jacket and grabbed your wallet before leaving the apartment. It would be nice to get some furniture soon. University debt couldn't last forever right?

As soon as you left your apartment the sound of someone coming down the stairs made you turn your head. The exact second you looked at them though your head snapped back to your door. Eyes wide, mouth open... that was the streamer! Your mind ticked, did he live here! In this shoddy building with the rates too high for what it was? But he was... relatively well off. His room was decked out in those fancy led lights and he had a really comfy-looking chair. His PC set up was apparently wild from the small glimpses you had gotten and yet he lived here. In the same building as you did.

It was in that moment that something clicked in your mind, people had lives outside of the internet. A resolute nod made you finally leave your doorway and join him on the trek downstairs. Half the time on the way down you wondered in he thought you were trailing him, the other half was spent wondering if he was hungry too.

There was no way he knew it was you though. You were faceless online and even though you knew him there was no way anyone would peel that information from you.

"Hey, I like your sweater." Your face went white as you saw him stop at the bottom of the stairs, a boyish smile on his face. Your sweater... his merch. Your lips pressed into a thin line, the world was playing with you today. You cracked your knuckles, this could go two ways.

"Yeah, haha... nice stream tonight boss man." His eyes widened. Tonight was just supposed to be you getting off from work and then grabbing some food. You had an interview tomorrow and yet here you were revealing yourself to your employer.

"You're one of my mods! It's nice to meet you in person, I can't believe I live in the same building as one. You getting food as well?" You guessed it wasn't all bad. Talking with him like this reminded you of his old streams, when he had only a couple hundred viewers.

"Yeah, crazy right." You commented as the two of you made your way to the restaurant. Since it was so late at night there wasn't a line to get take away so you made it through in record time. In the restaurant and even on the way up you chatted with the streamer until he basically dropped you at your door.

Before you went inside he asked you one more question, which one of his mods were you. After you have him the answer and watched him walk away you went inside and began to eat. Today wasn't as bad as you thought after all.

His door slid shut with an audible click as he gently rested his food on the counter. What were the chances that he'd meet his favourite person of all time tonight? His beloved mod, Sugar. A short wheeze left his mouth as his smile spread into a wide grin.

He didn't know what it was about you but just getting to know you before he hired you made him feel giddy. You two were a match made in heaven. You had wit, jokes and a kind side as well. Basically you were everything he had ever wanted and more.

And you lived in the same building as he did.

Now he had an excuse to talk to you outside of the work you did for him, he'd be able to get to know you better. Maybe he'd even manage to make you fall in love with him just as he had for you. Just thinking about it made his heart flutter and his blood run hot. His cheeks grew warm as he forgot all about his late night dinner. Instead, he wobbled over to his couch and fell onto it.

Your profile picture had been of a stereotypical soft edit, a practical joke from your friends that you hadn't bothered to change. He was ashamed to admit that he had jerked off to the picture before, sometimes he even took your chats out of context and used them to fuel his fantasies.

But, you looked nothing like how he thought you would. He was expecting some sort of catfish who went onto discord to try and get middle-aged men to give them money (he hadn't minded that fantasy either, there was something so hot about not being able to freely do anything without your partner's permission.) but you were completely different.

You were a burnt-out graduate just like he was.

Soon he found his hand resting on the outside of his underwear, pretending it was your hand. Would you be soft and embody your online persona or would you be so pent up that you used him to your content? His hand tightened in response to his thoughts, sending a wave of pleasure right to his stomach.

A short groan left him as he closed his eyes and stroked. He pulled his clothes down and circled his tip, trying to keep his hips still as he envisioned you sitting before him.

He finally had a face to the name and now his imagination was running wild. Was your skin unblemished? Did you have tattoos, what was the colour of your underwear. His heart beat faster as he realised he'd finally be able to find all these things about you out. You lived on the floor below him, he could sneak in anytime he wanted!

Maybe he'd take some of your clothes, dress himself up in them and pretend that you were making him parade around as some sort of doll. Did you own any toys? He'd take those two and revel at the closeness. You had used them on yourself...

He swallowed, it was getting harder to breathe. His hand worked furiously on his cock, the sensation more punishing than pleasurable. Surely that was what you would do if you found out about all the dirty things he had thought of you doing to him.

As soon as he had started he found himself cumming. His mouth dropped open in a silent scream as the pleasure rocked through his whole body while he came down from his high. As soon as he was able to calm himself down he shut his eyes and grinned.

This was going to be fun.

#sub yandere #sub male #yandere male #yan streamer #gn reader

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gucciwins · 1 year

Text

Harry brings a gift…and an important question is asked

A/N: hi friends, it’s been over a month since i last posted. life and school got really busy. but to celebrate graduating uni here is a sweet blurb 💜 happy reading

Word count: 1987

Y/N loved working at a coffee shop. She loved the smell of freshly brewed coffee, and when a customer asked for her favorite drink. Y/N had been at this coffee shop since she entered uni and continued while pursuing her postgraduate. She enjoyed how flexible Connie, the owner was with her hours. Being here for so long meant Y/N was good with inventory and, more times than not, found herself in the back, organizing and keeping track of all the items. She loved making drinks and talking with customers, but sometimes she got overwhelmed and needed a breather doing inventory allowed her to do so. The shop had been slow most of the morning, so she slipped to the back to get ahead and hopefully head out early. She was looking forward to stopping at the bookstore and picking up the newest Emily Henry novel she had pre-ordered.

Drew poked his head with a teasing smile on his face. “What?” She asked without turning to look at him. “Your staring is getting creepy.”

He scoffs, “you didn’t even look up.”

“You got that intense gaze, my friend.”

Drew sighed, “I get that a lot.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “can I help you with something?”

“No. I wanted to ask if you wanted to make a matcha?” Drew asked suspiciously.

Before Y/N could reply, Tish rushed in. “Harry Styles is here!” Tish screams quietly. “He wants a matcha something. My matches are horrible,” she cries.

Tish is their newest barista, who started here a month ago. She’s a petite pink-haired Latina who Y/N had taken under her wing. Tish had moved far from home and happened to join their team as Connie went on vacation, leaving Y/N and Drew in charge until her return in late Summer. Tish had no idea Harry Styles was a regular here and that Y/N might harbor a small crush on the English pop star.

Y/N glares at Drew because he must have known it's why he came in to bother her. She acted like she was okay not being able to greet Harry, but she loved her conversations with Harry. He told her about new poetry books he was reading. Y/N shared about the new artist she was listening to or the latest record she found. Once Y/N told Harry she was a fan of Madison Cunningham. Harry promised to give her a listen, and months later, she opened for Harry in New York City. Y/N thought it was a funny coincidence, but she couldn’t help but think that she influenced him and his taste in music even a little bit.

“Oh, did I not say lover boy had arrived?” Drew smirks, seeing Y/N’s flushed cheeks.

Tish’s eyes look at her in surprise. “Are you dating Harry Styles?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Drew shut up,” Y/N mutters.

“He so wants to date her,” Drew whispers to Tish.

Y/N fixes her apron and name tag. She makes sure her bisexual flag pin and anatomical heart pin are straightened and hurries out to make Harry’s drink knowing they’ve taken too long.

“The slut strands fix the slut strands,” Drew calls out as he reaches out to fix her hair. She slaps his hands away and walks out from the backroom. Y/N doesn’t even let herself scan the room.

Susie shoots her a wink as she finishes up with a cashier. Y/N grabs his cup and sees that he’s chosen a lavender matcha latte, a favorite of hers. She takes her time and dances around her coworkers happily, knowing they all wait in anticipation for her to call his name.

Y/N won’t give them the pleasure.

“Lavender Matcha latte,” Y/N calls out. She sees him stand up from his seat in the back corner by the shop's tiny bookcase, where you can grab a book and leave another in return.

She had her eyes on Harry, that she missed when a tall redhead approached her. Usually, Y/N picked up the charm for a pretty redhead, but today all her attention is focused on a brunette with emerald eyes. “Did you say, Hailey?” The cute redhead asks.

“Sorry, babes,” Y/N apologizes. “Forgot to say the name. It’s Harry. Yours will be out shortly.”

Hailey giggles, “I had just ordered, so I was a little surprised.”

“We’ll have it out shortly,” Y/N promises as she walks away.

Y/N wants the ground to open up and swallow her whole because Harry had to witness that awkward interaction. “Sorry,” she apologizes to him. “Lavender matcha?”

“Yes, thank you.” He accepts the cup letting their fingers touch for the briefest second. “It’s good to see you, Y/N.”

“You too,” she chirps. “Glad you stopped by. Our matcha still the best?”

Harry smiles, and Y/N can’t help but do the same. She remembers when he came in to tell them he would be away for a few months but would miss their matcha dearly. Y/N made him promise he’d tried to find matcha better than hers—from their coffee shop.

“It was a tough call,” he teases.

Y/N pouts because she knows what that means. He did find better matcha. Although she isn’t sure if he’s found a better matcha or if it’s his way of stopping their flirtatious interactions. Y/N would hate for him to stop coming in. Harry was everyone’s favorite regular because he was kind and learned all their names. He always asked about their life, but Drew teased her because he took a deeper interest in Y/N.

“Y/N,” Drew calls. “It’s break time.”

Fuck.

She knows what he’s doing, and she hates that.

Harry looks away, but she notices his cheeks heat up. “Would-do—“ he shakes his head. “Do you want to sit with me for a bit?”

“Uh,” she looks behind her, and Drew gives her a discrete thumbs up. “Yeah, okay. I’ll meet you there.”

He nods, leaving with his drink to sit back down. Y/N slips off her apron, and Tish hands her a vanilla latte with oat milk. The rule is Tish makes everyone a drink for their break until she’s perfected. In return, everyone takes turns making one for Tish, allowing her to try to guess all the ingredients in the drink of the day.

Y/N walks over to Harry, careful to walk over, and hopes he doesn’t notice her shaking hands. Harry stands up and pulls her chair out when he sees her approaching. She thanks him, taking a sip of her drink to calm down.

It’s good. Really good.

As Harry sits back down, Y/N finds Tish at the till, waiting for her response. She sends her a thumbs up, making Tish scream in success. This had been a drink she could not perfect for a few weeks, but now she could check it off.

She finds Harry staring at her with a warm smile.

“Sorry, Tish’s new, and we’ve been having her make us drinks to practice,” Y/N explains.

“Mhmm…she’s nice. Took my order and ran off,” he giggles.

“Matcha is not a strong suit for her just yet.”

“She’s learning from the best, so I’m sure soon enough,” he praises.

Y/N feels her face heat up. It’s such a compliment coming from him. “How have you been? All that traveling must be nice being home.”

Harry nods, “I love it, but nothing beats home.”

Conversation with Harry flows easily. He tells her about things he did on his days off. They never mention his shows, but she doesn’t mind. She loves hearing about his intense workouts and the newest book he picked up, and how many friends he has reunited with.

In return, she shares how she completed another year and plans to celebrate in Italy towards the end of July. Harry tells her places she has to visit and even gives her the name of a restaurant she has to visit and to say Harry sent her. He promises it’ll be the best pasta she’s ever had.

Harry changes the conversation back to matcha, promising he missed her drinks.

“You did tell me to find the best,” he teases.

“I thought the best was here,” Y/N defends.

He turns away from her to open his tote bag and slips out a metal tin. “My friend took me to this place in Tokyo, and it was amazing.”

“Harry,” she frowns. “Breaking my heart.”

Harry laughs, “I brought some for you all to try and make some drinks.”

Y/N awes at his kind gesture because he didn’t need to do that, but he wanted to. She accepts the gift and reads the label to learn more about it. “I’m sure if I make it, then it won’t be the same.”

“But you can try?” He offers.

“Matcha is something you have to be gentle with.”

“I asked the barista why it was so good,” Harry shares.

“What they tell you?” Y/N asks, wanting to know the secret to the best matcha.

“It’s about what you put in. All the emotions and feelings you are filled with go into a cup of coffee or tea,” he tells her. He pauses for a second before continuing. “I told them it was good but that it was missing something,” he looks away, unable to meet her eye. “Something about it being special who makes the cup for you.”

Y/N tries her best to contain her smile but fails, knowing Harry enjoyed her matcha because she made it. “Well, I enjoy a good matcha and hope everyone who drinks it does too.”

She looks down at her watch and knows her time with him is over, and she needs to go back to work. Y/N holds tight to the tin and smiles at Harry. “I’m glad you stopped by, Harry.”

“It was good to see you,” he tells her.

As she stands up, he stops Y/N from walking away by holding lightly to her wrist. “Sorry, wait.” He lets go quickly and digs in his bag again. “I said it was for everyone, but I got this one just for you.”

It’s in a purple-colored tin, and Y/N feels her heart swell. Harry bought matcha just for her because he knows she likes it.

“Harry, this was so kind of you.” Harry nods. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“I hope you’ll tell me how you like it when you make yourself a latte with it,” he smiles at you, giving her the courage to do something crazy.

Y/N looks over her shoulder and sees everyone working, and the customers are lost in their conversations that she allows herself to focus back on Harry. “I don’t know if I’m reading too much into this, but would you want to come over to mine, and we can try this amazing matcha together?” Y/N smiles, trying to look at ease, but inside, she feels her stomach turning and the butterflies going crazy, knowing Harry now holds so much power over her.

Harry takes a second for her words to sink in before responding. “Yes,” he breathes out. “That would be nice.”

“Great, okay,” she bits her bottom lip, nervous about meeting his gaze but can’t look away when she sees the bright smile and shining eyes. “Uh, I can uh give you my number, and you can let me know when you’re free.”

Harry grins. “Wonderful. It’s a date.”

He opens his journal, and she scribbles down her number and, before thinking twice about it, adds her address underneath.

“Alright,” she steps back with her two tins in hand and coffee in the other. “Bye, Harry.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you.”

“You can call me too,” she offers.

Harry grins, his dimples on display for her and only her. “You’re off at two, right.”

She hums in response. “I’ll call you then.”

Y/N turns away from him, her face warm from the interaction, her heart bounding, but gosh, is she excited for Harry to call her.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles story #harry styles wiring #harry styles fluff #harry writing #harry angst #harry fluff #harry one hsot #harry styles one shot #harry styles love on tour #harry x y/n #harrys house

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steviewashere · 4 days

Text

Be My Lover 🔞Minors DNI🔞

Okay, hi, it's me again. Feral and horny over another thought.

Rating: Explicit CW: Genitalia referred to with actual names (i.e. Stevie's cock, Eddie's vagina.), Alcohol Use, Drunk Sex (They're Both Slightly Tipsy) Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, T4T, Transfeminine Steve Harrington, Transmasculine Eddie Munson, First Meeting, Hookup, Getting Together, Bathroom Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Safe Sex, Daddy Kink, Nipple Sucking, Grinding, Fondling, Groping, Making Out, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Princess, Gay Bar, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Gentleman

Title from "Be My Lover" by La Bouche

Read on AO3

🏳️‍⚧️—————🏳️‍⚧️ The club is packed with bodies. Sweaty, dancing bodies. Music thumping, upbeat and bright all around. People shouting over the sounds, drinks sloshing in hand, some of them shirtless, some hairy and big, some small and flexible.

Stevie's freshly out, still in the beginning stages of her transition. A pin on her clothes to signal. But she wanted a night out where she can truly feel and be herself and be respected as such. Hair long to the middle of her back, wavy, and smelling of fresh berries from her hairspray. Her makeup is shiny, heavy blush on her cheeks, lips a light cherry red. Wearing a sequined, baby pink, spaghetti strap, v-neck dress. It's not short, goes right to her knees. Her muscular, smooth, thick (delicious, if you're in Eddie's brain) legs on display. White, closed toe heels on her feet. She's not exactly there to put on a show, but can feel the weight of somebody's gaze on her and finds she doesn't mind it.

She turns to see a man staring at her. His eyes are big, round, and deep. Enticing. Frame lithe and loose. Leaning against the bar, holding a glass of something honey brown—whiskey or bourbon, Stevie can't tell. He's wearing tight black jeans that leave no room for the imagination, white cropped t-shirt that reads something like Accept but the word is faded, and some beat up low-top black Converse. Honestly, he looks to fit better in a dive bar. But he's got a pin by his collar—the bisexual pride flag. And one a little bigger than that, the trans pride flag.

Immediately, she's intrigued.

Instead of continuing to dance with the strangers around her, she strides over to the bar. Her heels clicking against the concrete floor. He startles straighter against the bar once he notices her coming over. But when she slows slightly, giving him more time to really consider the opportunity that's arising, he relaxes. A smirk on his face, eyes not so subtly raking over her body.

When she finally stops in front of him, hands clasped below the small pouch of her belly, he locks his stare. Pupils dilated. Something already heated about them. This guy is a little shorter than her, not by much maybe just an inch, but she thinks she'd be able to pick him up if needed. Which may be very needed if this goes the way she wants it to.

"Mind if I join you?" she asks sweetly, gesturing to the empty stool next to him. Instead of speaking, he gestures enthusiastically to the seat. Even going so far as to pull it out for her to sit in. She settles easily, red flushing her cheeks darker, and gazes at him as he sits down, too. "Thank you," she murmurs.

"Pretty girls don't pull out their own seats," the guy purrs. Now that he's closer to her, she can smell him. His musk, deep and spicy. Like whiskey and cinnamon. The faintest scent of a cigarette freshly smoked. There's stubble on his jaw, most likely prickly if she were to brush her fingers on it. His ears are pierced. And his hair...She's in love with it. Down to the top of his chest, curly and dark brown, the softest thing she's ever seen.

She doesn't even notice that she's checking him out until a hand cups her jaw, raises her head gently, and then their eyes are meeting again. That smirk is back. And there's a dimple on his cheek.

And Stevie thinks she might be halfway in love already.

Eloquently, she mumbles, "Huh?"

He chuckles, deep in his chest. She melts into his hand still on her jaw. His thumb swipes down her cheek in short stripes. "Asked if you wanted anything to drink, babygirl."

"Oh!" she quietly exclaims. Her face heats up impossibly more. Wonders, very briefly, if he can feel it, too. "Oh, uh, just a cold Miller? That's what I usually get."

The guy slinks his hand away and Stevie already mourns the loss. Hums. "Beer drinker, huh? Could you be any more insatiable?"

"Mm, I dunno. If we get some time alone, you could find out?"

His pale cheeks turn lightly pink in the quick flash of white light that hits him. He clicks his, now noticeable, ringed fingers on the bar's counter. "Maybe I could once I get your name, baby?"

"Stevie," she responds a little too quickly. "And you?"

"Eddie," he states warmly. Leans in to her space. Whispers, "Daddy, if you're lucky by the end of the night."

He leaves her space as quick as he entered it, waves the bartender down, orders her drink, and finishes off his own glass. She can only blink, mouth slightly ajar. Wondering if he'll notice her rapidly appearing bulge when he turns back. Finds that she wouldn't mind that at all. Wouldn't mind leaving here tonight a little more peppy than before.

When her beer arrives, they talk back and forth for a while. Jobs. "Mechanic on the weekdays, musician on the weekends," he says. Preferences. "You," he flirts—she squirmed at that one.

She's pleasantly buzzed, but not full on drunk. Aware and slightly floating. They're closer than they were before. Almost sharing the same stool. His right hand is on her back, rubbing lightly up and down her spine. Her left hand on his thigh, squeezing near his crotch, relishing in how he hums at the sensation.

He rests his chin on her shoulder. And in her left ear, husks, "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met." Tentatively, Eddie presses a sticky kiss to her earlobe. "Can't believe I found you first, baby." His nose is buried in her hair, tickling at her scalp. Fingers at the base of her neck, dully scratching at her skin over moles. Lips moving down to her bare neck. Against her skin, "Fuck, you smell delicious, sweetheart," he mumbles.

"Ed," she quietly whines. "Not here in front of—"

"Bathroom?" he asks in a hushed voice. "Could lock the door. Muffle your delightful sounds with my palm. Make you feel good. You want that, baby?"

She nods enthusiastically. "Yes, Eddie. Please," she lightly moans.

In a matter of seconds, he's laid out the money for his tab, left their empty cups on the counter, and dragged them bodily towards the unisex bathroom. He shoves first into the restroom, leaving her leaned against the door. Locks it. And presses close into her space.

She lays her hands on his lower back, dangerously close to his ass. He kisses across the front of her neck, over her Adam's apple, down to the dip in her collarbones. Suckles lightly on her bare skin, close to the right spaghetti strap of her dress, over her heart. Nibbling gingerly on her soft skin.

Her head thunks back onto the door. Moaning openly as his teeth work harder. She scoots her hands down onto his asscheeks, cupping them in her palms, and squeezes heftily with his bite. "Ed—Eddie, fuck," she breathes.

He pulls back, a thin string of saliva connecting them. "Am I able to touch you, sweetheart?"

She nods hastily. "Please," Stevie whimpers, "don't wanna come on my dress."

"Fuck, baby, alright," he mewls. Carefully, he pulls down the straps of both her dress and her bra. She's not that big on her chest, not yet, but he eyes her like she's a masterpiece. And that makes her feel brave. His thumbs massage at the top of her breasts, down on the outsides, and then he cups her in both of his palms. Brings his mouth to her right nipple and latches on gently.

The estrogen she takes makes her chest incredibly sensitive. Noticeable, especially now, with Eddie's hot saliva drowning over her rapidly hardened bud. The way her legs shake underneath her, her hands spasming where she still gropes Eddie's ass. She lolls her head back and forth over the door, hair scraping. Eyes rolled back and mouth open in a raspy, breathy moan.

His tongue laves over in clockwise circles. Her lonely breast being gently soothed with his hand. Thumb massaging over her freed nipple. And then, he changes his attention to solely focus on her left breast. She can't help the way her hips buck forward, bulge pressed tightly against his knee. Moaning brokenly and wanton at the contact.

He pulls back again. Eyes heavy, lids halfway closed, lips spit slick. Hungry. His hands move from her still exposed chest down to her hips, at the pudge that's begun to form there. Eddie squeezes gently at her new thickness, moving closer and closer to her crotch. She watches in a daze, already panting heavily, spit rapidly cooling.

"Condom," she finally works out, rasping. "Tucked in the waistband of my panties."

His eyes widen slightly, bouncing back to her. He grins. "Well, you come prepared, don't you?"

"Don't want to make you an actual daddy, do we?" she teases. "Come on," she whines, "I'm so fucking horny right now."

"Alright, babygirl, I've got you," he coos. His hands move down to the bottom of her dress. Feeling underneath the skirt, up her thick thighs, to where the waistband of her panties dig into her hips. The crinkle of the condom wrapper loud between them as she rasps above. "Got it, baby. How do you wanna do this?"

"How much do you weigh?"

He quirks an eyebrow. "That's kind of—"

"I'm lifting you, dumbass." She snorts. "Come on, Daddy. Wanna make you feel good," she teases once more.

Eddie rolls his eyes, but the flush is hard to hide in the fluorescent light of the bathroom. "150. Let me get us ready, baby. I'll be quick and careful, promise."

"I trust you," Stevie whispers. And finds that to be the truth.

Something glistens in his eyes when they lock stares again. But it's gone quickly as he ducks down. Puts his hands under the dress again. And peels her lacy, pink as her dress panties down her legs. She whines the moment his warm hand makes contact with her cock. He's slow and meticulous with wrapping the condom onto her. When he's done, he steps back, chucks his sneakers off, works his jeans down to the linoleum floor, and spits into his palm.

With heavy lids, she watches him touch himself. Gently circling where his clit is, teasing the wiry pubic hair on his vagina. He slides his middle finger in to the second knuckle, the same with his ring finger. And rubs gently, yet quickly. His teeth bite into his plush bottom lip. Breathing heavy through his nose. Eyes almost closed with arousal. Sweat building on his happy trail.

Finally, he pulls his fingers free. They're pruned on the fingertips. Vagina slick with want. He wipes his hand on his exposed belly, steps forward, and lifts the hem of her dress.

She wraps her arms back around him, pulling him in tight and close. Ready to come already, just from his display. "You ready?" Stevie husks. "I'll lift you, wrap you legs around my waist. I've got you."

"I know you won't drop me, babygirl. I'm ready whenever you are, no rush."

At his confirmation, she hefts him up underneath his asscheeks. Resting his ass on the shelf she's created with her forearms. He responds immediately by wrapping his legs around her, squeezing at her lower back with his calves. His hands lift up the skirt of her dress, draping it over his legs and where Stevie's cock is about to go inside him. The prickly hair on his legs rubs against her bare sides.

Eddie peels his t-shirt off. Top surgery scars on display, beautiful on the underside of his chest. And he presses against her bare breasts. Their nipples rubbing up against each other.

She moans, squeezes under his ass, and finally worms the first few inches of her cock inside of him. His breath catches, moaning high into her ear. And then his lips on hers, messy and filthy and hungry. She's ready to be devoured.

He raises himself slightly. Grinding down onto her cock. Getting the last of her girth inside of him. Moaning breathless right into her mouth, she can't help but breathe air back into his lungs. Their noses plunge into each other. Chests burning as they rub at one another. His socked feet warm and pressing into the small of her back.

Eddie's kisses are tender, loving, and careful. Each roll of his hips is almost like a love letter to her. His hands resting on her shoulders, squeezing, dull fingernails digging into her soft flesh—all of it like a promise.

She's never been taken care of like this before. Even as she's slightly tipsy now, nothing's ever been this good. Nobody's ever been this good to her. It almost makes her want to cry.

"Fuck, Daddy," she breathes into Eddie's mouth. "Fuck, you feel amazing." His heat warms her through the condom. She can imagine what it's like without it. With his slick pre-come dripping down to the base of her cock, between where her thigh meets her groin. Getting messy, filthy, painted with it. To be shiny and glistening with it.

"Yeah, baby?" Eddie husks. "You're a fucking dream, Stevie. So lucky," he babbles, "so lucky to have you. Pretty girl, prettiest."

She whines instead of responding, grinding up into him. Faster and faster still. Her orgasm is close. Tingling low and warm and heavy in her belly. Into the tops of her thighs, burning. Her forearms dig into the meat of his ass.

With one final thrust, a broken moan on her lips, she comes undone. Just as he yelps something raw and low into her ear. She swears she feels it, his slick dripping onto the tops of her feet, bare where her heels don't cover.

It's the best thing she's ever felt, sans this night with Eddie.

Carefully, Eddie's legs unwrap from her. Her arms jelly like and hanging limp at her sides once he's back on the ground. Bare chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. He walks back towards the roll of toilet paper by the toilet, rips off a wad, and saunters back.

"Can't," she pants, "can't believe you're basically naked in this nasty restroom."

Eddie shrugs. "I've had sex in worse places," he states nonchalantly. He drops down to his knees, unrolls the filled condom from Stevie's slow to limp cock, and wipes her reverently with the toilet paper.

She grimaces. "Ew," Stevie murmurs, "I don't even wanna know."

He hums as he stands back up, her panties pulled back up, and tosses their mess away. "Next time we'll do it in one of our beds, baby. Don't worry," he says warmly, softly. His bare back and ass is towards her as he wipes at himself, cleaning up the slick slowly dripping down the insides of his thighs. "I'll make sure to have the softest sheets for you, princess. And a cold bottle of water for after. Make you my favorite post-sex sandwich. It'll be better."

As Stevie stuffs her breasts back into her bra and places the straps on her shoulders, she takes a swift inhale of breath. He's still naked and wiping at himself. Acting as if he didn't promise her the world. "Really? You...You wanna have sex with me again?"

Eddie looks over his shoulder. Eyes soft and earnest. "Yeah, if you'll have me. I'm not letting the most beautiful girl get away. Especially knowing that she's the best lay I've ever had."

Something warms inside of her. He saunters back, scoops up his clothes, and begins to redress himself. She takes a tentative step forward, while his t-shirt is hanging on his elbows. Drops a sweet little kiss to his cheek. "And you're the most handsome guy I've had the pleasure of meeting. Maybe...You wanna get dinner with me tomorrow?"

He pulls his shirt over his head. Scoops his hair out of the collar. And then kisses her back. Directly on the lips. Soft and slow and achingly tender. "Of course, princess. I'd be honored."

When she leaves that night, that pep in her step, stomach warm with bar nachos and tender words, and Eddie's number—she knows she's already in love.

🏳️‍⚧️—————🏳️‍⚧️ I wrote this instead of sleeping. I have jury duty in a few hours, so. Gotta make sure y'all are fed before I go offline for some several hours later. ;)

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #transfem steve harrington #transmasc eddie munson #t4t #nsft #all the smut

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quotegender · 2 years

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gaycrimequoteic

a gender related to the quote “be gay do crime”

[ PT. gaycrimequoteic end PT. ]

[START ID: The Gaycrimequoteic flag with proportional horizontal wiggly wave-like stripes, starting from top going downwards there's bubble gum pink, vibrant red, orange, yellow, turquoise, and purple. END ID.] from alt-texter

#mogai #freshly picked flags #mogai term #genders are kinda like fruit...#xenogender #quotegender #quoteic #gaycrimequoteic

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octuscle · 10 months

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Go to rack and ruin

At the prompting of @maletfwitch, here is a sequel to an older post.

The Abbas were glad to be rid of their unpleasant neighbor. Instead, they had a hardworking and faithful new employee. Unfortunately, the house in the neighborhood did not remain empty for long. And if the Abbas had believed that the old neighbor had been a scourge of God, this one was the apocalypse made flesh. The house was decorated with American flags and MAGA posters downright grotesque. At every prayer time, the neighbor played the American national anthem over outdoor speakers. Not only for the Muslim neighbors, for all neighbors in the immediate vicinity Mr. Carson was an absolute burden. Nevertheless, he had managed to organize a neighborhood watch and become the head of it himself. Needless to say, he preferred to position people in front of the Abbas' property and made no secret of the fact that they were the threat to security and order. Fortunately, the Abbas knew how to help themselves again this time.

When Mr. Carson awoke the next morning, he was not wearing freshly laundered pajamas. Instead, he was wearing a sweaty wifebeater and a pair of worn-out underpants that might have been white at some point. Bleary-eyed, he went to the refrigerator and grabbed a cold Bud light. Fuck, where had he put his chewing tobacco? The kitchen was a mess again. Peter Carson filled a garbage bag with beer bottles, the contents of various ashtrays, and the pizza boxes from the last few days. He went outside, tossed the garbage bag to the others in the front yard. The last ones had been tampered with by those darn rats or raccoons. Miserable vermin. Like the filthy terrorists next door. Still in his underwear, Peter raised the American flag, saluted, took a swig of beer and belched. Old Mrs. Price across the street turned away in disgust and pushed her walker a little faster.

Peter went back into the house. So slowly he had to get to work. His hardware store was opening soon. After a quick shower and a rather sloppy shave, Peter, in his lumberjack shirt, not-so-clean jeans and old work boots, left the house and got into his swank Mercedes. Did not really fit him and also not to his job. He could not even remember when and why he had bought this car. But it was a good car and it had been built by good people. Not by those dirty gooks. In his store, he also only sold things that were built in America. America first!

When he returned home after a long day at work, he cursed his old car. Yes, 30 years ago the Mercedes had certainly been a good car. But the repairs would have been expensive, now neither the air conditioning nor the right turn signal worked. The Teutonic steel was slowly turning into a rolling pile of scrap metal. Oh well, Pete thought to himself as he pulled into the cluttered driveway. Fits the house with the rotten porch and broken fly screens. Pete sat down on the porch with a not-very-cold beer from the decrepit refrigerator, picked up his air rifle and shot at the possums rummaging through his trash.

As they did every night, the police came. The stuffy neighbors would have complained about him again. Pete slurred that the cops should fuck off. The cops fucked off and took him to the drunk tank.

Fuck, if he was late for work again today, he'd lose his roustabout job at the sawmill, too. Just like he had already lost the house and his store. But he loved his life in the trailer park. All good American men here. Always someone around who had a cold beer or a can of chewing tobacco. Just the damn rats! Pete took his rifle and tried to take out some of the beasts. Hehehehe, four had to go down. A swig of beer on top of that. And then off to work in his German sweetheart, which he had tuned so impressively himself.

#male tf #reality change #chronivac #redneck tf #revange tf #male transformation

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shouta-edits · 5 months

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Ship flag request for JayDick (bat family DC) color picked from this image

If a flag reference is wanted, here is the lesboy for lesboy flag! (Freshly requested anand highly connected to our relationship)

Thank you! And thanks for all the asks of ours you answer- hehe :3

#jaydick #ship flag

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headspace-hotel · 2 years

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Okay I was planning on staying out of it but this is painful to watch.

To be clear, OP was being very weird and didnt at all need to say that. But it seems like hald the people since then have just been trying to explain what OP mewnt and doing it horribly, because I do in fact get ehat thry were saying.

Theres been a bug movement with online fascists thats like "modern society is too urban (see: diverse). Weve gotten too far from how we traditionally lived, and were so out of touch with nature. Kids spend all their time inside or in the suburbs and never get to see real nature." And its all a recruitment tactic.

The Start of that pipeline is often just "huh modern scoiety is extremely out of touch with nature. Kids grow up without the experiences I had as a kid running around in creeks and stuff. Kids cant recognize plants." And most of that is true and it Is bad, but they then often make a very quick leap to "this is a problem with Society." And from there to fascist talking points.

And like, if you squint, you can very easily draw similarities between the very start of that pipeline and your recent posting.

Again, this is Obviously incredibly stupid and anyone who actually reads anything you post can see that. But like, I can at least see how, if someone is primed to always look only for fascist dog whistles, and one of your recent posts crossed their dash, if theyre not smart, they could arrive at that anxiety.

Everyone since then has just been dumb about it.

...Okay I'm thinking the "cottagecore" discourse has just rotted people's brains out here. I didn't realize it until now but "posting pictures of a basket of freshly picked strawberries is a fascist dogwhistle" really was a Thing on here a while back. Okay. That makes sense now.

I know about the "trad"/fascist-adjacent 'homesteading'/off-the-grid doomsday prepper attitudes. Where I live, being a 'homesteader' often goes along with stockpiling guns.

But these people's attitudes are individualistic, it's all about personally escaping the "Modern" world and living in The Wilderness(tm) somewhere and being "self-sufficient" (lmao). Kind of a manifest-destiny adjacent fantasy (gross)

This is where the "cottagecore" discourse brain worms did immense damage—no one wanted to explain why the individualistic, intrepid settler homesteader fantasy was a problem, so all the well meaning people on the margins of the discourse went "oh, okay, wanting to reconnect with your natural world and consciously participate in your local ecosystems is a fascist/colonialist thing."

I have multiple posts buried deep in my drafts about this somewhere that I was afraid to post, because I was met with the "google is free" stuff when I tried to figure out what was going on, and Google was entirely empty of any material explaining the (alleged?) fascist and colonialist roots of cottagecore.

It makes my brain hurt because yes, actually, I *see* how "homesteading" is sometimes related to white supremacist and colonialist shit, and the fascist and "cottagecore" communities do have an overlap that is not purely coincidental. That's real. It's not made up. But. A lot of people on the internet have learned to recognize fascist "dogwhistles" instead of learning to recognize fascist ideas.

A lot of the work of recognizing fascist-adjacent stuff in the wild does rely on developing a sensitivity to such "red flags." I've talked about things that I consider to be red flags, and I sometimes respond strongly to them. But—it's crucial that you understand that the red flags themselves are not what fascism is. You have to be able to see and recognize the actual harmful components of an ideology instead of deciding that any similarity, no matter how superficial, Is Fascism.

A lot of colonialist and fascist systems of thought have "relationships with nature and growing plants is good" somewhere in there, but the actual poison here comes in a few forms:

unquestioned romanticization of settling/colonizing an Untouched Wilderness

deciding that some kind of stable, inherent 'natural' state of human existence is always good, and 'unnatural' things are bad

modern society is decaying and degenerate, "traditional" values and lifestyles are better (enter romanticizing the past as a paradise of moral and racial purity)

Yes, there were statements in my post that looked superficially similar to some of these. No, those statements were not even remotely close to communicating the same things.

And "dogwhistles" are not about superficial similarity. If you learn about 'homesteading' as a white supremacist fantasy being a thing, and you jump onto a post talking about growing native species like "Oh look I've found a fascist dogwhistle!" You've misunderstood the assignment.

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judgementdaysunshine · 6 months

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Stitch

Pairing: Dominik Mysterio x Fem autistic reader

Description: Dom gets a tattoo for you based on your favorite Disney character and nickname he calls you

You walk backstage sharing a hug with your boyfriend's mom before walking in his and his dad's locker room smiling big and sharing a hug with Rey as Dom walks out from changing into his ring gear seeing the sweet moment. "Hey Stitch" you giggle lightly as dom presses a kiss to your forehead following them until you reached the curtain sharing a group hug and a kiss with dom talking to Aalyah before she went out to sit with her mom in the crowd while you walked backstage talking with Edge and hanging out with Liv and Rhea before the two walked backstage victorious in their match against Dolph Ziggler and Robert Roode who deserves a justified fight after attacking dom and even harassing you until you hit dolph in the face with a jug and edge quickly jumped in with a spear to roode quietly squealing and cheering when your boys won jogging down the hall as soon as you saw them with big smiles on their faces. You laugh talking with rey and aalyah at rey and angie's house while dom and angie were out having lunch which was a tradition not only between him and both his parents but also with you and the two as well being welcomed with open arms when dom brought you to meet hos family after being together for five months hearing dom talk about you nonstop including that you were autistic but you were still as much of a human as they were which surprised them when they meet you forgetting that fact until you had mentioned it not noticing any signs until they picked up on your habits the first few times you visited them, you smile sweetly seeing dom and angie walk in laughing and smiling seeing him light up pulling you into his arms pressing a kiss to your cheek noticing the plastic wrap under his shirt sleeve raising a brow as the two of you say your goodbyes and head home. After getting home he has you close your eyes while in the bathroom laughing seeing you mindlessly sway while sitting on the bed smiling as he kissed your hand before having you gently trace a warm spot of his body opening your eyes to see a fresh tattoo on dom's chest smiling big when you see that it's stitch from the movie Lilo and Stitch holding a heart with sunflowers on his head, a butterfly on his nose, and your name above him lighting up as you caresses the freshly inked skin squealing lightly giggling making dom grab and kiss you and wrapping you in his arms taking a picture of your reaction and posting it along with a video of you giggling and squealing seeing it and right after it was done on Instagram with the caption "Got this little guy for my sunshine not only because it's her favorite character and movie but also because she is so special to me always holding my heart with tenderness, kindness, care, and unconditional love" leaving everyone in puddles of heartfelt smiles "I love you my stitch" later that week you return the surprise by getting a tattoo on your chest over your heart exactly where dom got stitch but you got his favorite character Zero from Nightmare before Christmas with the heart tucked against him along with a Mexican flag, a headset with music notes in the air, and his name above zero smiling as you watch him open his eyes lighting up like sunshine as he caresses the spot before kissing you sweetly posting the picture with the caption "Got this baby boy for my love to match with stitch he got for me this time with his favorite character and his nickname I call him quite a bit Zomo" you smile laying beside him putting your shoulder under his to look at them next to each other "I love you Zomo".

#dominik mysterio #wwe x reader #wwe #dominik mysterio x reader

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wonderlandleighleigh · 1 year

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The Worst Double Date

"How did I let you talk me into this?"

Midge give him an innocent look as she spritzes a little perfume on her wrists and dabs behind her ears. "I plied you with liquor and sexual favors," she reminds him.

Lenny snaps a finger and shakes his head. "That's right. That blow job really scrambled my brain."

Midge laughs and gets to her feet, wrapping her arms around him. "We'll go. We'll have a couple drinks. Eat a little dinner…"

"Avoid jokes about pencil sharpeners…"

"Eh, maybe we won't be that nice," Midge smirks wickedly.

"You, Miss Weissman, are not allowed to look at me that way," he tells her, pulling her closer. "Not if you're expecting to leave the house."

She kisses him lightly. "I promise it will all be worth it."

"We're spending an entire evening with your ex and the woman he cheated on you with," Lenny points out.

"And then we're going back to your place," Midge reminds him. "Where you'll get to see my new corset."

He freezes, lifting an eyebrow. "New, you say?"

"I do say."

"Color?"

"You'll find out after dinner."

Lenny huffs out a breath. "Fine. It'll be worth it."

*****

Joel cannot stop tapping his foot on the club’s floor.

Midge had been entirely too gracious about this whole thing. Since she and Lenny are the ones with the crazy schedules, she’d let him pick the place. She made sure the kids were well taken care of.

Hell, the fact that hi ex-wife had agreed to this idea in the first place was a red flag in Joel’s eyes.

But here he sits, next to his girlfriend, waiting for his ex-wife and her fiance to show up.

He’d just figured…well…if they’re gonna be trading kids back and forth, and they’re both going to have new partners, they should at least try to make an effort not to hate said partners.

Midge had loved Mei; respected the hell out of Mei.

But Mei is gone, with their son. God knows where. And in her place…

Is Penny Pann.

Midge thinks very little of Penny.

Joel used to think the world of Lenny Bruce, but then he found out about him and Midge. That kind of shit certainly has a way of changing your mind about a guy.

But he’s gotta try, right? Try to make this work.

For the kids.

And for himself, because fuck does he want to be friends with Lenny Bruce, and fuck does he not want to piss off Midge, who is not only the mother of his children, but now an Emmy winner.

And really, all of this was Archie’s idea.

“Make nice. Don’t piss off two of the biggest names in comedy or they’ll tell all of their comedy friends not to play our club.”

Jesus does Joel hate when Archie is right.

“You worry too much,” Penny tells him, reaching out and taking his hand. “It’s just Midge and whatever guy she’s with this time, right?”

“She’s marrying him,” Joel tells her. “And he’s Lenny Bruce.”

Penny blinks. “Who?”

Fuck’s sake.

There’s a commotion in the club as people start to turn their heads, and Joel joins them. His stomach drops immediately as he spots Midge and Lenny walking in.

These are not the Midge and Lenny who come to family dinners. These are not the Midge and Lenny who pick up the kids every week. He’s not even sure these are the Midge and Lenny from their gigs or TV shows.

No. These are the Midge and Lenny who show up to an event, dressed impeccably. Lenny’s suit is freshly pressed and well-fitting. Midge’s dress is black with a swirling blue design on every other pleat of its skirt.

They look perfect.

They look like stars.

And this was on purpose.

Joel glowers at Midge as she says hello to a few people, still holding Lenny’s arm as they make their way over at a leisurely pace.

“Wow,” Penny breathes, obviously a little stunned. “She’s come a long way from the Revlon counter…”

“Yeah,” Joel grouses. He gets to his feet as they step over, though Lenny takes a moment, chatting with someone he obviously knows.

Midge grins at them as Lenny joins her. “Hi, Joel. Penny.”

“Hey,” Joel says. “You uh…you’re not as late as usual.”

“That would be my fault,” Lenny chimes in. “I wanted to get out the door before Abe dragged me into another Castro debate.”

“Right,” Joel says mildly.

Penny clears her throat softly.

“Midge, you remember Penny,” he says quickly.

“Hard to forget,” Midge comments, giving Penny a polite smile. “Hi.”

“Midge,” Penny responds evenly.

“Penny, this is my fiance, Lenny,” Midge tells her. “Lenny, this is Penny.”

“Our names rhyme,” Penny comments, trying for a smile. “That’s funny.”

“Funny haha or funny peculiar?” Lenny asks curiously.

Joel fights hard not to roll his eyes. “Everyone have a seat.”

“Penny never got up,” Midge points out. “So she can’t have a seat. She’s already got one.”

Lenny dramatically pulls a chair out for Midge, and Joel knows it’s mostly to derail that line of commentary. “Now you have one, too.”

Midge grins and kisses his cheek. “Thank you.”

Joel sits as well, when Lenny sits, and knows in his very soul, that this night cannot end fast enough.

*****

It is rare, Lenny thinks as he sits quietly at the table, to stumble across a person quite as dimwitted as Penny Pann.

Or someone quite so bitter.

Because for whatever fucking reason, this woman clearly has not let go of the fact that sometime at the end of 1958, Joel nearly went back to Midge, and even though he didn’t, he still left Penny the first time.

“So,” Penny says breezily. “Midge.”

“Penny,” Midge says, lifting her chin, her blue gaze landing on the other woman. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Penny tells her. “Great, actually. What about you? Sleep with any husbands lately?”

Joel is about to open his mouth and interject, but Lenny knows better. Midge has this handled.

“Not recently,” Midge tells her. “It’s been a couple of years, but I guess when Lenny and I get married, I’ll be sleeping with a husband.”

“Right now she’s just sleeping with a former husband,” Lenny chimes in.

“Maybe let’s talk about something else,” Joel snaps. “Lenny. Any good shows coming up?”

“I’ll be out of town for a couple weeks, traveling the Mid-Atlantic and New England,” he tells them. “Baltimore. Boston. Philly. Those kindsa places.”

“Nice,” Joel nods evenly. “You got gigs for here in the city lined up?”

“Mostly for the fall,” Lenny shrugs. “I’m taking a little vacation in August to move my daughter from LA to my apartment here. Things are going well enough, and I have the space, and I miss her like crazy.”

Joel frowns deeply, confused. “You have a kid?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t I know that?”

“Because I don’t know you very well,” Lenny reminds him.

“You don’t talk about your kid in your act?” Joel asks, still confused.

“I don’t have that kind of act,” Lenny says. “And my kid doesn’t stare at me in creepy silence for twenty straight minutes without blinking.”

Midge laughs at that. “In my defense, I was high when I did that set.”

Penny looks alarmed. “You were high?!”

“It was a few puffs from a joint,” Lenny waves her off. “It was one night and it was nothing.”

“That’s illegal,” Penny whispers loudly.

“So is most of my act still,” Lenny shrugs. “Give it another fifty years, I bet you won’t be able to round a street corner without smelling the devil’s lettuce.”

Joel rubs his face. “Why don’t we order drinks? Who wants drinks?”

“Oh! Martini, up, olives, so many olives, three olives,” Midge says quietly.

“Two fingers of whiskey on the rocks for me, please,” Lenny adds.

“A grasshopper for me,” Penny chimes in.

“Joel will fix that,” Midge blurts out.

Penny frowns. “Fix what?”

Midge takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as she squares her shoulder. “Nothing.”

Lenny frowns a little. He recognizes that posture on Midge. That stressed out, ‘I was in an emotionally abusive marriage and I didn’t realize it until he left me’ posture. He brushes his fingers against hers under the table and she hooks hers with his tightly, and when he looks at her face, she’s giving him a grateful smile.

“I’ll be back with the drinks,” Joel says awkwardly as he gets to his feet and rushes.

Lenny nods, but turns his attention back to Midge, lifting his eyebrows in a ‘you okay?’ kind of expression.

She nods and smiles sheepishly, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes briefly, and he presses a light kiss to her temple.

****

Penny frowns as she watches Joel rush off, and then turns to find Midge and Lenny in a world all their own.

She remembers her first relationship with Joe. How he’d talked about Midge. How controlling she’d been. How heartless. How disinterested in Joel’s dreams she was. How frigid she could be.

Watching her now (though trying not to look like she’s watching as she sips her water), Penny sees someone who doesn’t seem to fit that description. She looks at Lenny like he hung the moon. Like his very presence at the table next to her is lifting her spirits.

Lenny is giving her a soft, adoring grin, obviously happy to be here with Midge; making the most of what is, honestly, an awkward night.

Penny knows she looks at Joel that way. She’s…not sure Joel has ever looked that way at her in return.

And suddenly, it hits Penny like a baseball bat to the head.

Midge moved on.

Mei is gone.

She is a consolation prize.

Joel is settling for her. There are two women Joel would rather be with.

Penny isn’t one of them.

Tears threaten her as she watches Midge rest her head comfortably on Lenny’s shoulder, and his lips brush a light kiss to her temple, as if that’s something they do all the time.

Because it probably is.

“Excuse me,” Penny jokes out as she messily gets to her feet and rushes for the bathroom.

*****

Midge watches Penny stumble off and sighs softly. “Fuck.”

“Here?” Lenny asks curiously. “Now?”

“She’s upset,” Midge tells him.

“Well…she’s seeing Joel,” Lenny points out. “So…”

“Where’s Penny?” Joel asks as he sets their drinks down on the table.

“She went to the bathroom,” Midge tells him. “Something upset her.”

“What’d you say?” Joel snaps, looking upset.

“Literally nothing,” Midge bites back quickly.

“Well, go see what’s wrong.”

“Me?”

“You’re the woman at this table,” Joel points out. “I can’t go into the ladies’ room, neither can Lenny.”

“I can,” Lenny corrects him. “It’s a question of should.”

“You’re making jokes now?” Joel asks, quickly getting heated.

“It’s kind of my entire thing,” Lenny shrugs. “And also, my previous statement is true.”

Midge huffs out a breath and gets to her feet. “I’ll go.”

“Thank you,” Joel snaps, obviously not at all grateful.

Midge doesn’t respond as she heads for the ladies’ room.

*****

Regina Dalton has been privy to some wild-ass white people conversations. As the attendant in the ladies’ room at a very fancy club, there are times when she wishes she were anywhere but here, listening to these wild, insane, sometimes doped-up conversations.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

Tonight, Midge Maisel walks into the bathroom looking like a woman on a mission.

“Mrs. Maisel!” Regina chirps. “I saw you at the Apollo a few years ago, you killed that night!”

The other woman beams at her in a way that’s polite, but genuine. “Thank you so much. That’s really kind. I’m really glad you enjoyed the show.”

“Not bad for a white girl in Harlem,” Regina jokes, making the comedienne laugh.

“That’s really all I could have hoped for that night,” Midge tells her. She lowers her voice. “Hey - did a dark-haired, upset-looking woman in a green dress come rushing in here?”

Regina nods and lowers her voice to a whisper. “Yes, she did. Ugly crying and everything.”

“Oy,” Midge sighs okay. “Okay. Thank you for letting me know what to expect.”

“Friend of yours?”

“Ex-husband’s girlfriend,” Midge explains. “If you come to a future show, I’m sure I’ll have plenty more to say.”

Regina tries hard to not giggle at that as she watches Midge head down the row of toilet stalls.

*****

“So,” Joel says awkwardly.

Lenny sips his drink, staring back at the younger man silently.

Joel knows he’s doing it on purpose. Joel knows damn well that Lenny thinks that putting Midge through an entire evening of sitting across from the man who broke her heart and the woman who helped him do it is bullshit.

Joel finds it hard to fault the guy. He’s probably at least a little right. And if MIdge and Joel hadn’t had children, they wouldn’t be doing this. They wouldn’t be in each others’ lives anymore. It would have been a clean break four years ago.

As it stands, Joel feels like this can’t be helped.

“I know you don’t like me,” Joel says.

Lenny doesn’t respond. He just sits back in his seat, tall frame taking up quite a lot of room in a way that’s casual and somehow imposing at the same time.

“I know you think this entire night is a terrible idea.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Lenny points out. “You asked to go on this double date. To try and bury the hatchet on some old heartaches, and Midge said yes. So here I am.”

Joel nods.

“The difference is that when Midge brought this entire cockamamie idea to my attention, she took the time to ask me to be understanding. To behave a little. Show a little compassion for a couple of people I don’t really have any compassion for.”

“Jeez, you really don’t like me,” Joel mutters.

“Why should I like you?” Lenny asks.

Joel stares at him.

Lenny shrugs. “I suppose I should thank you. If it weren’t for your wandering dick, Midge and I never would have met. But here is what I do not understand about tonight.”

“What?” Joel asks.

“Why not take Penny aside and ask her to show a little kindness?” Lenny asks.

“You think I didn’t?” Joel snaps. “Come on, I know I’m an asshole, but I’m not that bad.”

“So she just didn’t listen,” Lenny surmises. “Knew you were looking for a friendly ceasefire and she fired shots off the bat?”

Joel sighs heavily. “Yeah.”

It’s not the whole truth. And they both know it. Joel squirms a little in his seat, fiddling withis empty glass.

Lenny takes a larger sip of his drink.

“No,” Joel amends. “I told her I wanted it to be a nice night. I didn’t ask her to hold off on the insults.”

“So you are that bad,” Lenny says.

“Yeah.”

He gets no other response.

*****

“Go away, Midge.”

Midge takes a breath and closes her eyes, letting it out slowly as she stands outside the stall that Penny Pann has commandeered. “Look, I know that you hate my guts because I slept with Joel when he and I were still technically married, even though he’d walked out on me.”

She gets no response.

“But it’s been a few years now,” Midge goes on. “Maybe we could just…not be such raging assholes to each other going forward?”

“It’s not about Joel,” Penny blurts out tearily. “Well it is, but it’s not about you and Joel. It’s about- about you and Lenny.”

Midge frowns. “Me and Lenny? What about us?”

“It’s just- you’re so happy together!”

Midge purses her lips and looks down at the engagement ring on her finger. A modest-sized but just about perfect diamond on a rose gold band (“you like pink so much, I thought it’d be good. It felt like you.”). “We are happy.”

“I want to be that happy,” Penny says quietly.

“It’s not easy,” Midge admits after a moment. “I thought it was. When I was with Joel, it certainly seemed easy. But I was wrong. And Lenny has never been an easy man to love, mostly because he’s not very good at loving himself, which is - an entirely different topic of conversation that you don’t need in your life right now. Or - ever. But being happy in a relationship takes time and work. And if one or both of you isn’t willing to put it in, then it’s not going to happen. Or you think it’s happening but it turns out to be bullshit.”

A startled gasp sounds from a woman heading to another stall.

“Oh, please, we’re in the ladies room of a club that doesn’t allow kids under the age of eighteen in,” Midge snaps. “Get a grip.”

Penny gives a watery giggle at that.

“You want Joel?” Midge asks.

“Y-Yes.”

“Do the work,” Midge shrugs. “If he’s not willing to do it with you, he is not the one.”

“He is the one. He’s always been the one.”

“I thought so too,” Midge says softly. “I was wrong.”

“I’m not you.”

“Thank fuck,” Midge mutters.

“I heard that!”

Midge doesn’t dignify that with an answer. “You ready to come back out or you need a few more minutes?”

“...A few more minutes?”

Midge nods. “I’ll wait.”

*****

It takes a few more minutes for the two women to come back from the ladies’ room, and when they do, Lenny reaches out, taking Midge’s hand and tugging her down to have a seat on his knee.

She looks…

“Hi,” she says with a sad smile.

“Hello,” he returns, tilting his head. “You okay?”

Midge nods and closes her eyes briefly. “I think we’re gonna call it. Tonight’s not the night.”

Lenny nods, thinking that over, glancing at Penny as she sits stiffly next to Joel before turning back to Midge. “Pizza? Chinese? Burgers?”

“French fries sound so fucking good right now,” she breathes out, her shoulders relaxing.

“Then I will buy you French fries,” he grins, helping her to her feet before getting to his own. He turns to Joel and Penny - neither of whom get to their feet. “Well. Tonight was…a night of the week. We’ll see you around.”

Midge chuckles a little and nudges Lenny along. “Goodnight, you two.”

Joel gets to his feet abruptly then, telling Penny he’ll be right back as he follows them towards the door.

“Midge.”

Lenny turns back, watching as Midge turns to look at Joel.

“Penny loves you,” she says softly, though Lenny can still hear her. “Really loves you. Don’t fuck it up.”

With that, she takes Lenny by the hand, and tugs him out.

“We didn’t pay for our drinks, you know,” he reminds her, amused.

“No we didn’t,” Midge nods. “I just spent a good fifteen minutes comforting the woman who helped ruin my first marriage. She can buy us a couple of drinks.”

Lenny tugs her close, letting go of her hand to wrap his arm around her, kissing the side of her head. “All the French fries you can handle.”

“Hell, yes.”

END

#fic #au #tmmm #Midge x Lenny #Midge Maisel #Fictional Lenny #Joel x Penny #Joel Maisel #Penny Pann

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