#LET THEM THINK WEBSITE IS BOY
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I no longer want to be part of the tumblr x ao3 discourse
stop it
#if I see one more person talking about their genders i will scream and cry and rip my hair out#YOU DONT HAVE TO AGREE WITH EVERYONE ON EVERYTHING#JUST LET SOMEONE THINK WEBSITE IS A GIRL#LET THEM THINK WEBSITE IS BOY#IT DOESNT MATTER#anyways#yapping#idk man#im tired#Ao3#ao3 x tumblr
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tbh sometimes giving people younger than me the space and freedom to explore the world for themselves instead of like. yoinking their phone out of their hands and making them a tumblr acct with a specialized cocktail blend of blogs i formulate for their own specific starter dashboard. is just so hard.
like yes i value you learning to formulate your own opinions after spending way too much of your life trying to parse discourse on both sides instead of just feeding you my own thoughts n opinions but also i want you to understand gender essentialism right now. i want you to understand that sometimes boundaries are put in place not for YOUR safety, but for the comfort of the people running the show. i want you to understand that it's normal to be wrong sometimes. i want you to understand that maintaining privacy online is important even if you don't care it matters now. i want you to understand that fiction is not real life, and that disgust is not a viable moral compass. i want you to know what a dogwhistle is so that you can start listening for them. i want you to understand that girls can kiss other girls too, like in real life.
and i'm sure if you muck around on the internet long enough, you might end up exactly where i am today. but i'm sure we could also just cut to the chase and get you started on the right path For Sure if i just picked you up and plopped you down on it myself.
unfortunately, people younger than me are still people who have to lead their own lives and experience at least some of the world for themselves, lest they never realize that they have to put their money where their mouths are.
#the worm speaks#it's like. *through gritted teeth* giving people the freedom of choice and free will also means giving them the freedom#to make questionable choices and get lost along the way.#like ofc i offer as much guidance and perspective as i can cram into their heads when approached#but one must also acknowledge how unprofessional it would be to go like#'twelve-year-old boy i am going to teach you about a website called archive of our own dot org. i think you would thrive creatively there.'#like. ignoring the fact that twelve isn't old enough to be on ao3. i'd be hesitant to say that even to a high school student#threading the needle of professionalism as a Weirdo who would also love to foster affinities for counter/subcultures in the kids#who are under my care in a purely professional capacity is. well. difficult.#i'm probably forgetting to express some crucial facet of my thoughts here but it's fine#tbh a big part of why i'd balk at introducing a teenager to ao3 is bc then it's like. there feels like an obligation to let them know my ao#bc any kid who would likely take to ao3 as a hobby is likely to be nosy like that methinks.#and good fucking lord. do i maintain a HARD separation btwn my personal and professional lives
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I think maybe I got married to a museum this morning. Boy is this a long weird story.
I was standing in line to get into the Museum of Natural History this morning when an older woman near me in line gestured for me to take out my headphones. She was clearly a little agitated, and she asked me if I was American, if I spoke English, in a pretty pronounced English accent. I said I'm from Chicago, and she looked relieved and said, "Can you help me find out if I can pay for my ticket with my credit card inside? It wouldn't register when I tried to buy a ticket on the internet this morning."
I said I didn't know how we'd find out, but I opened up the website on my phone to check. While I poked around the site she didn't stop talking once, telling me that she's in New York to look after her daughter who just had major surgery and she's very stressed and her daughter asked her to go out and distract herself for a while which....having spent some time in this woman's company, she's very sweet but I can see why her kid needed a break.
Anyway, I think this might actually be a lie on the website, but it says there that you HAVE to buy tickets online and you have to have an email address to get them delivered. She couldn't do the former and didn't have a smartphone she could use to access the latter.
So I said, why don't I buy your ticket on my phone while we're here in line? I can send it to my email, and you can come in with me. She fretted about fraud but I said nah, I'll just tell them your ticket's on my phone because I helped you buy it, they won't care.
Now, this sounds like she was running some kind of wild scam, but who the hell scams their way into the Museum of Natural History? Like lady if you love natural history that much and haven't got $24 to your name, let me buy you a ticket, you've earned it.
Anyway, I bought the ticket in about 30 seconds, and we had about ten minutes to wait, which she filled with a nonstop monologue about her daughter's medical problems, her husband's job, her attempts to get into a gym to swim, the crowdedness of New York, it was just...so much talking. And I had dire visions of possibly having to take her around the museum with me simply because I was so friendly and helped her get in. I wished to silently contemplate the taxidermy, thanks.
Inside, I took her to the customer service desk because she wanted a printed copy of her ticket, and while they were printing it she counted out the cash to pay me back. Then I ruthlessly unloaded her on one of the customer services agents, saying, "He'll explain what you can do with your ticket and give you a map -- you have a good time now and I'll be thinking of your daughter," and did my best to disappear. I rounded a corner, dashed into an elevator, and fled to the fourth floor where I was headed anyway.
That's enough of a misadventure just trying to get into the museum, but I put it from my mind and enjoyed the dinosaurs and dioramas...until I slipped on something black, on the black floor of the dimly lit Hall Of Mammals, and almost fell.
There, under my boot, in front of the stuffed rhinos, was a black-and-gold silicone ring.
If it had been any other kind of ring I'd have turned it in to lost and found, but I wear silicone rings myself -- they're very cheap and meant to be worn in place of a real ring while you're doing tool work (they tear away under pressure unlike metal rings that'll take your finger with) or if you're afraid you'll lose the real thing. I have several thin ones I wear on top of my normal rings to keep them from falling off when my fingers change size in the cold. It's not the kind of thing one would even go to Lost and Found for; you can replace it for $5.
I think the museum gave me a wedding band.

It's a little big but the spirit is there.
So yeah, much like how the Rijksmuseum and I are sworn enemies, the American Museum of Natural History is now my bride. Well, she saw that I know how to look after my elders. As spouses that are actually large cultural institutions in the middle of New York City go, could be worse.
[ID: The middle and index finger of my left hand, showing several rings -- the middle finger has a silver ring with a kokopelli motif (a gift from my maternal grandmother), a gold ring with a knotwork motif (the wedding ring I inherited from my stepfather's parents), and a thin silicone band to hold them in place. My index finger has the new ring, gold with a border of black, looking slightly loose.]
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an idea; a (bottom) male reader who’s apart of an indie jpop boy group. The members are just you, a childhood friend, and three other people you met through college/random events. Your group was lucky one of the members comes from a rich family that doesn’t mind spending some money to help you guys out—waiting until a company finds interest and asks to manage you.
The first month or so is rough so you all find part time jobs in the mean time. But regular jobs just don’t interest you so it takes you awhile to even apply for any… mostly getting fired after the first week or so because you end up showing late all the time.
You’re left wondering what to do when you come across a website of camboys and camgirls. Some of them show full nudity while others stay dressed for the most part.
It intrigues you enough but you don’t do it without running it through your members. They’re mostly shocked you even want to do that… but other than that, they just tell you to not speak and wear a mask.
Easy peasy. You chose a simple and almost silly name, “Shy Usagi” since your mask resembled a rabbit.
The first stream is awkward, you had to figure out a way to talk. Surprisingly, a few of the people that dropped in were intrigued by your refusal to talk. You had expected them to immediately want you naked but it seemed you attracted people that liked the teasing aspect of camboys.
Though you were 99% sure it was only men watching you. The first few weeks, you only wore skimpy clothing and did anything they requested. The most sexual thing you did was suck a dildo.
Occasionally you’d masturbate on live and that would always garner more attention. But there was always one person who would tip you no matter the stream.
“Hitachikoi”
You were sure he was probably an old man but you didn’t care, money was money. He knew how to flirt so you never felt weirded out with his attention.
Things were going reasonably well until after your group’s performance at a little festival. You had spilt away for a second to look around when you bumped into someone. He had his face covered with a mask and baseball cap.
You were going to apologize and go about your way when you caught that he was holding a poster of your group. He didn’t say anything as he simply held up a marker.
It took a second before you finally realized what he wanted. “Oh! Sure.” You were a bit excited, having never really signed anything before. Your signature was a bit messy but still legible.
“Here you go, thanks for coming to see us!”
“I only came to see you.”
“Hm?” You leaned in closer, wondering if you had heard him right. Only you?
The man let out a laugh as he reached up and pulled down his mask, leaning down so you could get a clear look at his face. “Mhm. Only you… (Name)… or ah,”
His hand reached up and cupped your face, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip. It was only when he pulled off his cap that you got a good look at his face.
He… he wasn’t some random guy. He was a famous actor… a famous actor knew about you?
“Shy Usagi? It’s nice to see your entire face… that mask never hid your lips.”
You could stare as he pushed his thumb into your mouth. The only thing you were thinking of was if he was about to ruin your career before it even took off? But why would he care? Why was he even—
“Don’t worry your pretty little head. Someone like you isn’t made to think so hard,” he said, a slight frown on his lips. “I just, well I got tired of watching behind a screen. I wanted to touch you…”
His other hand moved to rest on your hip, pulling you closer as he pressed his lips against your ear.
“To be inside of you instead of that dildo… I mean, I’m paying you so much money, it’s only fair I get to have you, right? Mhm? I can have you, yea? I’ve thought of fucking your mouth for days now.”
“(Name)! Where are you?”
He pulled away, rolling his eyes. You only watched as he slipped back on his mask and cap, pulling your shirt back down. “You’ll stream tonight.” He said, as if he was giving you an order, not asking.
“I’ll see you tonight, baby. Wear something red tonight… that’s my favorite color.”
With that he left you standing there, mouth agape just as one of your members walked over to you.
You… were so fucking screwed.
In more ways than one.
Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @secretivemessenger @chill-guy-but-cooler @star-3214 @tehyunnie @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @tomoeroi @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @euthymiko @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @love-kha1 @anchoredphoenix @yuzuukix @bensontrechic
I already made a face claim lol.

#bottom male reader#x male reader#sub male reader#uke male reader#male reader#oc x reader#mlm ns/fw#smut drabble#male bottom reader#original character
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─── YOU'VE GOT MAIL .ᐟ


...or how reader made a friend in the most unconventional way.
★ pairing.ᐟ frat!rafe x nerd!reader
★ summary.ᐟ rafe cameron is the golden boy of kildare university; certified frat boy, captain of the football team, relentless party animal with lines of girls to sleep with.
reader couldn't be more different; while she has the best grades in the whole school, she suffers from social anxiety disorder, and her social life is limited to her three best friends and the cat she secretly snuck into her dorm room.
both of them decide to join the anonymous chatroom for their campus, and start talking to one another,, a friendship starting to form between the two; but neither of them know how different the other is.
★ author's note.ᐟ NOW A SERIES! i hope you guys like this! i'm considering making this into a series; if i do, i think i'd do it the same way this fic is, aka some narration but mostly 'chatting' between rafe and reader. anyway, let me know if you want it to continue!! i've been feeling down for a few weeks now, so something simple and fun like this was a good way to get back into the flow of writing.
i thought about making this a smau, but doing the chats like this feels more authentic to the 2000s chatroom experience y’know
you were sitting on your bed, your laptop open on a website called KildareUChats, a website that was apparently meant for the students of your university to be able to anonymously chat with other students, your friend having told you to give it a try, knowing that it’d be difficult for you to do in person.
you didn't really see the point of it; although your social circle was in no way huge, you were happy enough with it, really. never having been great with new people, you'd made three friends on your freshman year of college and simply stuck to them. it didn't help that whenever you tried to talk to someone new, it felt like someone was choking you.
but this was online. the person on the other side would never know who you are, and you'd never have to actually be face-to-face with them. your cursor moved to hover over the 'REGISTER' button, and you filled the page out with your basic information, name, school email, birth date... but when the website asked for a username, you couldn't help but purse your lips as you looked around your dorm room, from the fairy lights you'd hung up on walls that now glowed in a yellowish hue, to the several books stacked on the floor, to the dead roses on your desk...
but when your eyes landed on your nightstand, you spotted a book of poems by edgar allan poe, and your lips quirked up into a small smile. after you typed the name 'AnnabelLee' into the username field, a green check mark appeared next to it to signify it was available.
after setting a password, you were redirected to a page that said 'WELCOME TO KILDAREUCHATS AnnabelLee! CLICK HERE IF YOU WISH TO CONNECT WITH A RANDOM STRANGER!'. you clicked the button, your cursor turning into a circle for a moment as it loaded, before you were redirected to a chatroom with a pop-up.
KILDAREUCHATS IS CONNECTING YOU TO A STRANGER...
KILDAREUCHATS HAS CONNECTED YOU! REMEMBER TO TREAT OTHERS THE WAY YOU WANT TO BE TREATED <3 SAY HI!
you stared at your computer screen, biting into your lower lip. you had no idea what you were supposed to say; outside of the people you already knew, you were helpless when talking to people, the words always getting stuck in your throat, or vanishing from your mind. angel's white fur blended in with your white sheets as your hand moved to absentmindedly stroke her, the little cat purring in her sleep. but before your hand could dart out to type something on your laptop, a message appeared on the screen.
STRANGER: heyy
taking in a deep breath, you shook your head, as if shaking all doubts and worries out of it. the site was anonymous; that was the whole point. and your therapist told you, that for your social anxiety to get better, you should try go socialize. mingle. you took the bottle of cheap white wine you'd snuck into your dorm, taking a large swig straight out of the bottle before setting it back down, your hands flying to your keyboard.
YOU: hi :)
STRANGER: wsp?
YOU: ...wasp?
STRANGER: lmao no... what's up?
YOU: sorry, i'm not good with that kind of lingo haha. YOU: nothing much. i'm hanging out with my cat.
STRANGER: damn, do you have an off-campus apartment or something?
YOU: nope :) YOU: don't tell my ra.
STRANGER: shit you have a CAT in your dorm?
YOU: if you tell on me, i'm gonna have to hunt you down and kill you.
STRANGER: lucky for you this is anonymous STRANGER: and i'm not a snitch lmao STRANGER: so, what are you doing on this thing at 12am on a friday night? no hot parties?
YOU: honestly, i think i'd rather put a noose around my neck than go to a party. YOU: i'm just in my room drinking wine. decided to try this site after my friend suggested it. YOU: what about you?
STRANGER: damn, kinky STRANGER: i do have a 'hot party' to go to but i also have an essay due in nine hours and the prof already hates my ass
YOU: so you decided to not write your essay and instead procrastinate by chatting with some random stranger?
STRANGER: exactly! you get it STRANGER: if i even have my laptop in front of me, i'm counting that as me writing my essay
YOU: what's it about?
STRANGER: what kind of a role religion has when it comes to politics and shit
YOU: and let me guess, that's not a topic you enjoy studying in your free time?
STRANGER: you know me so well already
YOU: if it helps, i'm also studying. or, procrastinating studying. YOU: i have a chemistry exam on monday :(
STRANGER: ...and you're studying for it on a friday already? STRANGER: i just read for exams a few minutes before they start STRANGER: compared to me you're like a genius
YOU: eyeroll. YOU: and that's why you have trouble writing an essay! YOU: you're probably missing out on a keg stand at your 'hot party'.
STRANGER: i can't believe you're making fun of the art of the stand
YOU: you'll live.
STRANGER: how do you know? maybe i'm the god of the kegstand and every time a human loses faith in me, i grow weaker
YOU: are you? YOU: oh sacred frat god? YOU: shall i make an offering for you at your altar? would that appease your distaste towards me?
STRANGER: you shall
YOU: okay, how about these for an offering: YOU: a white claw, a buzz ball, a red solo cup with a strange mixture of different kinds of alcohols, and a vape pen?
STRANGER: those appease me much, mere mortal STRANGER: also mango-flavored juul pods
YOU: you're so weird.
STRANGER: says the person who's hanging with her cat on a friday night
YOU: how do you figure i'm a her?
STRANGER: oh please STRANGER: no man would disrespect the fine art of the keg stand
YOU: got me there, frat boy.
STRANGER: that's very presumptuous STRANGER: i could just be a tomboy
YOU: please. YOU: if you're a girl then i'm sasquatch.
STRANGER: don't worry, i don't mind a little body hair
YOU: i hate you.
glancing at the clock on your wall, you'd realized that thirty minutes had already gone by. you let out a small sigh, rubbing your eyes.
YOU: i should get going. i can't keep procrastinating.
STRANGER: already?
YOU: what, are you gonna miss me or something?
STRANGER: hey, if i get a pic of bigfoot i'm gonna be making millions, i just have capitalistic tendencies
YOU: fair point.
STRANGER: you should add me as a friend
YOU: you can do that??? i thought this was an anonymous chat.
STRANGER: yeah you can lmao why else would you need to set a username STRANGER: i'll just do it
and soon enough, a pop-up appeared on your screen, with the text 'STRANGER HAS REQUESTED TO ADD YOU AS FRIEND.' along with the buttons 'ACCEPT' and 'DENY'.
you pursed your lips, your finger lingering over the touchpad, first dragging it over the button reading 'DENY', before you let out a sigh, taking a large swig from the bottle of wine, moving the cursor to 'ACCEPT' and pressing it before you could regret it.
the pop-up was now replaced with another one, reading 'CONGRATS AnnabelLee YOU ARE NOW FRIENDS WITH MalachiConstant' and when you read the stranger's name, you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. you clicked the red 'x' that closed the pop-up, and the word STRANGER in your chat logs was now replaced by MalachiConstant.
YOU: really? vonnegut?
MalachiConstant: what? i don't seem like the type to read?
YOU: just surprising!
MalachiConstant: says the girl with the hard-on for poe MalachiConstant: which isn't surprising at all
YOU: har har. YOU: goodnight, weird vonnegut frat boy.
MalachiConstant: goodnight, weird poe girl
YOU HAVE LOGGED OUT OF KILDAREUCHATS.
#💌 ygm#꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#nerd!reader#outer banks#frat!rafe#drew starkey#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron obx#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe fluff#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe fic#obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron smau#⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ you’ve got mail
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DCxDP Fic Idea: Online Siren
Danny makes a mistake. Or maybe he struck gold. Depending on the perspective you were looking through.
It starts one night when Sam, Tucker, Danny, and Jazz get together for a private party on Tucker's birthday. Mr. and Mrs. Foley had let them have the whole house to themselves on the agreement that it would only be the four of them. They would be keeping an eye on the security camera and motion detectors around the property. At the slightest hints of Tucker having a house party, the pair would return from Mr. Foley's sister's house to shut it down.
The group of teenagers were more than happy not to invite anyone. It's not like anyone would show- at least not with good intentions. They had an entire night plan- coffee drinks based on their types, video games, boardgames ones, painting hour, karaoke, movies, and cake after presents.
They all pitched in for pizza, and Sam offered to buy everyone breakfast in the morning. The party started at four and would end at ten the following morning. The boys would sleep in Tucker's room while Sam and Jazz crashed in the guest room together.
Danny hadn't had that much fun in such a long time that he didn't even shy away from Sam's video camera while singing. The youngest Fenton has always had a fantastic singing voice, but his stage fright has stopped him from showing off his skill in front of anyone who was not close friends or family.
The following morning, while eating at Tucker's favorite breakfast restaurant, Sam checked her phone after noticing all the buzzing. Danny could catch her face turning pastly white at whatever was on her screen. She taps aggressively, nearly frantically, which gains the attention of Tucker and Jazz.
"Sam? Everything good?" Jazz asks gentely.
"I..no..I'm sorry, Danny," She whispers after staring hopelessly at her screen. "I meant to save it in our private share, not...the anonymous one."
"What?"
"I...post poetry anonymously on this voice website. It's audio recordings only." She explains, placing the phone on the table. Her voice is hesitant. "Last night....I accidentally posted the video of you singing from the Karaoke machine I saved. The one from the Realms. And some of my followers saved it and shared it. It's trending."
Danny feels his stomach drop into his legs. "What?"
"No one knows who you are!" Sam blurts as Tucker quickly pulls out his own phone. A few seconds later, Danny's voice blares out of his speaker, the melody blending well with his singing. The Karaoke has a recording option that deletes background noise, making it far more professional than four teenagers dancing around the Foley's coffee table.
"Dude, this sounds amazing," Tucker says after a moment. "I can't believe I finally have a recording of your singing. Just look at these comments!"
The song is an open domain in the Infinite Realms, telling the tell of the first King's fall. It's rather popular for its revolutionary themes and near musical lyrics that blended with the rapid flute melody, so finding a ghost willing to share a Karaoke version took nearly no effort. People online think Danny was the songwriter.
The song on Sam's page had ninty-thousand listens, with just as many downloads- each download places ten cents in her account. So far, Danny's singing has made nine thousand dollars. It's only been twelve hours!
It got so much traction because Damian Wayne had made an edit with a popular anime and posted it on his personal account. His small usage had exploded Danny's song in only a few hours.
"Take it down!" Danny hisses, slapping a hand over Tucker's screen and glancing at nearby tables. "Sam, please take your post down."
"I did! I swear! But it's too late to stop it from spreading on the WorldClip." She tells him, and Danny's heart feels like it will explode until Jazz gently speaks up.
"Sam, can Danny have those nine grand?"
His best friend blinks momently, thrown by the question before she nods, "Of course! It's his money."
"Hmm." Jazz taps her fingers under her chin before turning Danny's face towards her. It's not until her gentle pats on his back that he realizes he is hyperventilating. "You should post more on that anonymous website. Sam can write the songs, Tucker can make the music, and you can sing."
"What!?" He choked, shocked she would even ask him. Tucker and Sam are eyeing them with wide eyes, frozen in their seats. No one knew where the fear had come from, but the two knew how badly Danny reacted to the idea of performing.
Tucker first met Danny when the boy panicked in the music room. After it was announced, the students would be singing Twinkle Little Star in the first grade. It was the first time Tucker had ever called nine-one-one, too.
He was praised as a hero, while Danny was scolded for overreacting. Tucker had held his hand until the sobbing boy's parents came to pick him up and has never left his side since.
"Danny, this fear has always left you in shambles. I think it would help you. This could be a form of exposal therapy," She says, then shrugs her shoulder. "Think about it. No one will know who you are, but your music could reach thousands without you ever having to show your face. You could pay for the college you wanted to go to in Gotham this way. All of you."
Neither Danny's nor Tucker's parents could afford to send them to Gotham University despite it being their dream school. Sam's parents refused to pay for a "useless" degree such as Botany. They had been growing uneasy with the realization dreams were not always promised as the end of the senior year approached in only a few short months.
They would never ask it of him, but Danny could see the genuine hope tucked in their eyes as they waited for his response. He licked his lips, feeling his heart still beating a mile a minute under his rib cage.
He didn't like being this paralyzed by an irrational fear. He also really wanted to help them reach their dreams.
So Danny opens his mouth and whispers, "Only until we can get to Gotham to find jobs"
Jazz's smile is bright.
________________________________________________________
A few months later, Damian practically runs Tim over in his rush to connect to the game room's surround system. Jon is hot on his heels and has the decency to shout an apology as the pre-teens rush by.
"Hey! Watch it!" He still screams at their backs, irritated. "I could've dropped my croissant!"
"Sorry again Tim!"
"You're fat anyway, Drake!"
Tim rolls his eyes, adjusting his hold on his plate as Dick rounds the corner that the children had appeared from. "What's got them rushing?"
"Online Siren just dropped a new song." Dick laughs. "Dami is a bit of a fan."
"Online Siren?"
"That's right, you were in space for five months. Online Siren is this anonymous singer that everyone is going crazy over on the internet. He's an amazing singer, but because no one knows anything about him. Not even Babs."
Tim raises a brow. "He could be using autotune."
"Maybe, but Tim, I'm telling you. Listen to his music, and you'll find you can't stop. Siren is a fitting name."
"He can't be that good," Tim mutters, following his eldest brother into the game room, where Damian and Jon have blared the speakers to the loudest setting and dancing around.
Tim draws up short at the sight of Damian Wayne actually crying as he sings along to the lyrics, acting as if the singer was right there in front of him and he was a long-time fan.
Then, the music invades his ears, and Tim feels like he is ascending on a different plane. The smooth, near silk-like voice glinds into his chest, rattling his bones, and his knees shake when the man holds a soft, seductive "Oh" for a few seconds longer then necessary.
It sends shivers down his spine.
"What is this!? It's so good!" He screams at the dancing Dick, who laughs.
"I know, right!?"
"It's too good. I think this is a real siren." Tim continues, pressing his hands over his ears. His mind flashes back to the few months he spent with his team, running for a mind-controlling alien that had nearly trapped them in the third space sector. "Dick, we're in danger! Get around from the speakers! Mind control!"
Dick stops dancing with a sigh, muttering under his breath as Tim rushes to the control panel of the speaker system. As soon as he slams it off, Damian releases a screech of an angered cat and launches at him, demanding his music back. Jon flouts nervously on the side as the two youngest Waynes brothers roll on the ground, yelling insults and taking dirty shots.
"I wish I could enjoy things with my siblings without them ruining it." He mumbles, striding forward to break up the fight, only to scream when Tim pulls out pepper spray, yowling like a madman.
"Mind control! Mind control!"
"My EYES! "
"Drake, stop!"
"You'll never get me Siren! Never!"
".I'm going to go get Mr.Wayne!"
"Make haste, Jon! Bring my father to stop this baffoon-my eyes! Drake, you bastard!"
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#Online Siren#Part 1#Crack taken seriously#Danny has a crippling stage fright#Time skip for the last part#The Trio are in gotham but still making music#Damian is tweleve with Jon#Tim is just a tad bit paranoid from his mission#Danny is a star#Who is the greatest online singer?#TW: Panic attacks mentioned
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— ✧ guilty as sin
pairing: mingyu x reader
genre: smut (18+ / mdni), non-idol au, open ending ... (pt 2 perhaps?)
word count: 8k
description: the thought crosses your mind that this is something you definitely shouldn't be doing. that what you're just about to do will be a terribly wrong move for you and your freshly broken heart.
warnings: alcohol & (mentions of) marijuana consumption
tags: mingyu and reader went to same high school, y/n and mingyu both are freshly out of relationships, blowjobs, sex, dirty talk, idk they banter a lot i think theyre cute so believe me
a/n: so this is a fun little piece ... i do have a plot outline for a part 2 and 3 but totally depends on if u guys want to see more of them ... anyways i know i have been mia with my writing but i really like this piece so i hope u all enjoy >_< tysm to the lovely @gyuswhore who beta read this for me bc everyone knows i don't proofread anything

“He’s single.”
You ignore Nayeon’s statement, pretending to scroll through a cafe’s website on your phone.
“He’s single,” she repeated, clearing her throat for a moment before. She’s unsure if you heard her.
Still no response. You try bopping your head to music, hoping Nayeon will think you’re extremely engrossed in the faint music from the radio.
She doesn’t.
“Mingyu’s single, damnit!” Nayeon yells out this time, and you obviously are caught off guard by the way you nearly jump out of your seat.
You crane your neck at her and frown. “I know Mingyu’s single! I know he’s single, Nayeon, but that doesn’t explain why he never replied to my message!” you cry out, throwing your hands in the air. “If anything, this makes things worse—that means he’s available and plain doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
Nayeon shakes her head at you, turning her eyes back to the road. “That’s not true. I heard he only broke up with his ex recently. Maybe he’s just taking a break from … well, you know: other girls. I think that’s fair.” You don’t say anything, but you know she’s right. “And I think …” Nayeon follows, while you mentally prepare for what you know she’ll say, “I think you should learn to do that too.”
“Nayeon!” you whine.
“What? You also just broke up with Taehyun—there should be a waiting period, don’t you think? At least like—four months.”
“Four months?!” you screech. It’s a passing thought that she’s right. Deep down, you know that space is just what you need—a vacation from boys—all of them.
“Yes, four months. Seriously, do you think you’re even emotionally over Taehyun?”
You frown at her question, because you both know the answer to that. For god’s sake, you’d called her crying over how you fucked up by breaking up with him. “I mean—”
“You know, I don’t even think four months would be long enough for you. You’re so far gone, I think you might need at least a year before you can emotionally commit to someone.”
“Wow,” you say dryly. “Didn’t know you knew me better than myself.”
Nayeon smirks at you. “I mean, I think we both know that’s true.”
You huff, crossing your arms over your shoulder, looking at the window. Even with her rather annoying (albeit correct) analysis of your feelings, you’re grateful for her emotional support, and her offer to pick you up from the airport.
“How have you and Cheol been,” you ask her a few moments later, hopefully diverting the conversation. Nayeon huffs at your persistence on not talking about this, but she finally lets up.
“We’ve been good. Long distance has been easier than we expected,” she replies honestly.
“That’s good, I’m glad,” you say, trying to ignore the way your heart pangs just a little. It’s unfortunate that you and Taehyun weren’t so lucky. You two lasted ten months of long distance before things began to crumble.
You push the thought of you and Taehyun to the back of your mind. Just even hearing his name is enough for your stomach to turning into ugly knots, memories flooding back to you about just how badly you fucked up.
You try to remind yourself that mistakes happen to be learned from.
You can only hope that you don’t let anything like that happen again. Ever again.

It’s the next night when Nayeon climbs into your car as you park out in front of her place. “Coming home for break never really gets old, huh,” she says, buckling up over her lacy top.
“Cute top,” you compliment as you pull out of her driveway and make your way back onto the road.
“Thanks. Cheol got it for me,” she replies with a grin. “You ready for the night?” she asks with a slightly sarcastic laugh.
“Rhetorical question?” you shoot back with a raised brow. “Honestly, I’m not sure. It might be nice to see everyone together again, but also I’m glad that we left a lot of those people in the past.”
“Ooh, what do you mean by that?” Nayeon coos, and you both laugh together.
“As if you don’t know what I mean. I can’t imagine you’re exactly looking forward to seeing Renjun again.”
Nayeon grimaces deeply when you say that. “Why would you say that?” she whines. “Just had to go and remind me about him …”
“Nayeon, I love you but I’m not apologizing because you’re literally going to see him in ten minutes.”
“Whatever. Anyways, I know I told you to take time away from guys, but you’ve been pretty mopey about this whole thing with Taehyun and—”
“Hey! You said it was okay if I talked about him.”
“Before you rudely cut me off,” Nayeon snaps, “I was going to say that it’s okay to be upset about him. I just think maybe it’s also okay to let him out of your system, y’know? Deep clean sorta thing.”
You cock an eyebrow at her. “And how do you suggest I do that?”
“Well I was getting to that! You know who’s going to be there tonight?” she says excitedly.
“Oh let me guess,” you say flatly, pausing for an intentional five seconds before deadpanning, “oh my gosh, Mingyu?”
“Yeah! Come on, be more excited about it!” Nayeon cheers you on.
You sigh dramatically. “You know, I would be a lot more excited about seeing him if he didn’t air me when I messaged him a month ago.” You physically cringe whenever the image of your lone message in the chat with Mingyu pops into your head.
are you going to be home for the break?
He never responded, casually on brand for Mingyu and his nonchalance.
“The others haven’t talked to him since high school right?” you confirm with Nayeon. “None of you guys were really friends with him, if I remember correctly.”
“Yeah, I mean all of them don’t like him,” Nayeon says, referring to her other group of friends. You furrow your eyebrows.
“I guess he was kinda mean in high school …” you reply with a sigh. It’s true. Mingyu was kinda mean. Nayeon gives you a questionable look.
“No—well yeah—but they all don’t like him because they liked him and he didn’t give a shit. Hell, even I thought Mingyu was cute, but he would like never do anything with any of us.”
You purse your lips. You didn’t know that. “Oh really,” you say dryly.
“Yeah,” Nayeon says with a half laugh, and then shoots you a smirk. “That’s kinda why at the beginning of senior year Seoyeon was kinda, well, you know—”
“Bitchy,” you finished off for her. “I guess it makes sense,” you continue with a little sparkle in your eyes. You feel a wave of giddiness wash over you as you let yourself smile when you say, “I mean, I did get to kiss him.”
When you were with Taehyun, you always tried to avoid thinking about what happened that one night in senior year. Drunk for the first time ever, sharing a few puffs of weed with Mingyu, and there you and him were, cuddling on Nayeon’s friend’s couch in the living room in front of all of your friends. And then eventually the couch turned into a bed, and you weren’t surrounded by your friends, you were surrounded by four walls and a locked door, and of course you weren’t cuddling—damn it—you were on Mingyu’s lap and kissing him.
But of course, it was no perfect evening, because then the ruckus that follows 10 shots of alcohol began to crawl up your throat, and Nayeon was banging on the door (god, who’s room even was this?); so you flung yourself out of the room and hurled into the toilet across the hall.
That’s all you remember from the night, but unfortunately your friends reminded you of your rather poor alcohol decisions when you were sober the next morning.
“You kissed Mingyu!” they had said. “That’s fucking crazy. Didn’t you like him like two years ago?”
You had grimaced at them. Shrugged, trying to act like that wasn’t all that was running through your head because yeah, you did like Mingyu two years ago and it might’ve been a silly little hallway crush but god, if he didn’t have your stomach doing twists and turns for no damn reason and—
Eyes on the road, you remind yourself when you feel like you’re getting too caught up in your thoughts. Clearing your mind as you near the parking lot of the bar, you and Nayeon chat up on the latest gossip about all the people you’re about to see.
Soon, you make it into the bar, and you’re met with a myriad of familiar faces. They greet you with polite small talk and it’s a little bit funny. You have seen these people at quite possibly the most embarrassing era of their lives; and they had seen you at yours. It’s funny how you now exchange awkward smiles and unfamiliar handshakes with these same people.
You say hi to them slowly, one by one, checking them off in your head. Renjun … Joshua … Wonwoo … Seungkwan … Soonyoung … and the list goes on. Silently, you brace yourself for the last person of the lot.
Everyone’s conversing among themselves, so you’re confident that no one’s going to watch the horribly awkward interaction you and Mingyu have when your eyes meet as you approach him. You both might have agreed to pretend nothing ever happened between you two, but there’s something uneasy in the air right now. You haven’t seen each other in over a year.
You’ve been watching him from the corner of your vision. He’s got on a black button up, casually unbuttoned, shiny watch glinting against the dim bar lights, dark wash jeans that make his butt look really nice and—
God, you need to stop getting so ahead of yourself. You find yourself almost faltering in your step, getting caught up in your thoughts when you approach him.
“Hi,” you say to Mingyu once you finally find yourself in front of him. You try and distract yourself from the way heat is rushing to your face as you remember that he’s probably read the message you sent him, but you hope he won’t bring it up.
“Long time no see,” Mingyu responds with a smile you can’t quite read. You two stand in a bit of an awkward silence before you get the feeling that you don’t really want to be in this situation anymore. You clear your throat and straighten your back upon the realization.
“Well,” you say, letting your eyes wander elsewhere in the bar. “It was nice seeing you. I’m gonna just—” you point at Nayeon with a few of your other friends by the barstools, “—get going, you know, and—” you almost find yourself rambling before you choose to shut yourself up and walk away.
As you’re turning away, you hear Mingyu call your name for god knows what reason.
“We should catch up,” he says casually.
There it is. That’s it.
You turn back to him for just a moment, flashing a smile and a nod, before going back to spend some time with your other friends.
It’s about an hour and a half later, and you and your girl friends are past the pleasantries and now knee-deep into sharing the raunchy details of the past few semesters at college.
At some point, the drinks everyone had gotten at the beginning seemed to be running dry, so Seoyeon says, “Hey ladies, anyone ready for another few rounds of drinks, or—”
“Or even better!” Sakura squeals. “Shots! Who wants shots?!”
All of your friends cheer, and you smile along with them. “You guys go ahead,” you tell them when they start picking their stuff from where you’re seated to the bar area. “I’m driving tonight, so I’ll pass,” you explain, patting Nayeon on the shoulder.
She hugs you from the side, murmuring, “Ugh, you’re the best,” before joining the others as they head for their new round of drinks—or shots, was it—or maybe both—who knows? As they start walking away, you see a tall figure walking toward you, and once you recognize just who it’s about to be, your stomach does a flip.
“Hey,” Mingyu greets you once again, after the others all leave, and you’re scared to look him in the eye. You can see it from the corner of your vision: that gleam in his eyes. It’s mischievous, almost, but mixed with something else you can’t quite figure out.
He’s an enigma, you remind yourself again, and you don’t think you’ll ever quite figure him out.
“Hey,” you say softly, unsure what to follow with. You grip your mocktail from earlier a little tighter, using your other hand to stir it round with the thin straw.
“So, how’ve you been?” Mingyu asks you with a smile, raising both his eyebrows in a way that almost makes you want to call him cute. He leans against a wall beside you both, and gosh—it’s sexy too, and it’s driving you ‘cause he’s cute and he’s sexy at the same damn time, and you just can’t wrap your mi—
The question. You need to answer his question.
“I’ve been … alright,” you tell him, finally lifting your gaze to look up at his eyes. They’re staring right back at you, and you may not be under the influence, but you’re definitely under his. “Pretty good, recently actually,” you decide to add, some rush of excitement flooding over you. “You?”
Mingyu smiles at your near chirpiness, still holding eye contact. “Guess I could say the same. I’ve been better,” he says, and you both chuckle. “But I’ve been doing good, especially back here at home,” he says.
“Yeah,” you agree, “Something about this place, huh?”
“Something about this place …” Mingyu repeats, “Yeah. Well that’s fuckin’ true. It makes me feel a certain way.”
“Brings back the memories for me,” you say.
“The good?” Mingyu asks with a bit of an open-mouthed smile. “Or the bad?”
You look up at the ceiling, holding a finger to your chin while pretending to think intensely. “Both!” you conclude after a few seconds. Mingyu lets out a small laugh at your display, and then you find yourself thinking about that stupid four letter word. Cute.
“Cheers to that,” he chuckles, holding his bottle of beer up to you. You hold your mocktail glass up as well, clicking the glass with Mingyu and smiling together.
“Hey,” he continues, “can I get you another drink? Not sure how long you’ve been holding onto that one, but it seems like it’s no good now anyways.”
“Oh, no, no, no! I’m not drinking tonight—gotta get Nayeon and myself home safely. This is so I still look like I’m having a drink. Mocktail,” you tell him.
“Oh really? That’s funny. I never took you as a DD kinda girl—I’m much more familiar with the version of you that … well, you know.”
Yeah, yeah you did fucking know.
“What can I say, I’m a changed woman,” you claim coolly, aiming to act unbothered by what he just brought up. You take this as your chance to lean into him a little closer, holding your drink up to his nose. “What? Don’t believe me? Smell it.”
This time, Mingyu leans in even closer to you, hardly a foot of space between you two. You can only hope no one sees you two like this. Luckily for you and Mingyu, everyone seems to be a bit preoccupied with their own shenanigans elsewhere.
“Guess I believe you,” he finally concludes, lifting his head back up and settling back in his previous position. “So how’s school? Heard you’re running with that—what is it—math degree?”
“Yeah,” you reply with a smile. The thought of Mingyu hearing about you and remembering the details has you feeling some kind of way. “Got a few more courses left and then I can graduate! I’m assuming the same for you—only two more semesters, yeah?”
“Yeah, pretty much. I might go abroad this next semester actually,” he tells you.
“Oh really. Where’re you headed?”
“Spain, hopefully. Still waiting to see if I’ll be able to graduate on time if I go.”
“Wow,” you say in a breath. The image of Mingyu walking the roads of Spain under the sun, his tan skin glowing from the— “Wow, yeah. Spain is really cool. I’ve never been.”
“You should stop by,” Mingyu says with a shrug, almost too casually. You narrow your eyebrows at him.
Just as you’re about to respond, Nayeon drapes herself over you from behind, a little more than tipsy to add. You’re a bit startled, eyes wide and facing Mingyu as you both take a few steps, backing away from each other.
“Hey,” Nayeon greets with a faint slur, pointing a lazy finger at Mingyu. “This,” she says exaggeratedly, this time moving her finger to point at you, “is my lovely DD for the night, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t take her out for a puff.”
Mingyu gives her a flat look. “Wasn’t planning on it,” he says dryly, clearly bothered by Nayeon’s interruption.
Nayeon shrugs and you’re a little bit confused as to why she’s suddenly acting with this edge of hostility towards Mingyu. (Last you checked, their families were friends, and Nayeon was one of the only girls here who didn’t truly dislike him.)
“Wouldn’t count on it, you know, given what happened the last time,” Nayeon bites back, and this time you’re the one to be slightly irritated.
You shrug her off your back, saying, “Nayeon, don’t worry, I’m not gonna smoke or anything—trust me.” You think thoughtfully, glancing between her and Mingyu who has an indecipherable look on his face, and then you add, “And Mingyu wouldn’t anyways. I already told him I’m driving home. Why don’t you go hang out with Sakura? Looks like she’s calling you over.”
“Really?” Nayeon squeals, and just as quickly as she showed up, she’s gone again.
You chuckle as she hurries off, turning back to Mingyu. “Sorry about that,” you tell him sheepishly when you catch the way his lips are pursed tightly.
“Your friends will never let that up, huh?” he says, and you think he almost sounds annoyed as he takes a sip of his drink.
You raise a brow. “Have your friends let it up? Probably not, huh?” you bite back, a little mischievously. You’re both teetering around the topic—not exactly talking about what happened that night years ago, but at the same time, you’re both definitely talking about just exactly that.
Mingyu chuckles. “Touche.”
You’re unsure of what to say next. You can’t quite tell where this conversation is headed—if it’ll lead you to another dead end—another few years of shoving your lust for Mingyu to the back of your mind before he pops up again and makes you start all over again. There’s always going to be a little spark though, kindling somewhere inside you, ready to plunge yourself into this man you hardly know.
“Senior year was kinda crazy, wasn’t it?” you say with a sly smile.
When Mingyu mirrors the look on your face, you swear you feel the spark turn into a small flame. “Yeah, you could put it like that.”
You’re surely not intoxicated, but when you sense him shuffling a little closer to you, running his hands through his thick dark hair, a wave of boldness courses through you. “Do you miss it?” you ask, almost innocently, with your big pretty eyes staring up at him.
Mingyu smirks. “I probably should say no … but that would be lying. And I am no longer a liar.”
“Oh, has the Kim Mingyu retired from his title of pathological liar?”
Mingyu laughs this time, and it’s hearty. “I have, but just for tonight.”
“Does that mean I’m never going to see this truthful, honest version of yourself again?” you whine with a fake pout. You’re treading unfamiliar waters here, but you can’t remember the last time you had this much fun single.
Mingyu gives you a warning look, but then smiles. He opens his mouth, ready to respond, when Joshua calls out his name.
“Yo Mingyu! Check this out!” he yells from across the bar.
“Give me a second,” Mingyu calls back, but just as he’s about to turn back to you, Wonwoo speaks up.
“Nah Mingyu, you gotta come over now. Soonyoung’s doing this weird ass thing and—hurry up! He’s not gonna do it again and—” You hear a series of unintelligible shouts come from that area, and Mingyu gives an apologetic look before tending to his friends.
There’s something in his eyes that told you, this isn’t finished yet, but before you know it your friends scoop you up from the table area and pull you over to where they’re playing pool. Soon, any hopes you had of talking to Mingyu again were slim to none, both of you two involved with whatever your friends were doing, but also conscious about how it would look if you guys talked alone for any longer.
You can’t handle the speculation.
You’re pretty confident Mingyu wouldn’t be a fan either.
Later that night, you drop Nayeon off at her house, and then make your way back to your own home. After doing your nightly routine, you slip into the soft covers of your bed when you hear a soft buzz come from your phone.
You’re not exactly sure who’d be texting you at this hour, but as you reach for your device, something in your stomach just knows.
You’re smiling before you even tap your screen.
You’re grinning by the time you see the name pop up brightly.
mingyu: my fault for not responding earlier mingyu: so boba tomorrow at 8?

“Can’t remember the last time I had boba past 6 pm, to be honest. Weird choice,” you remark, tapping on the kiosk to adjust your order to your liking.
“You gonna be sassy about every decision I make?” Mingyu huffs, standing right by you in the empty little boba shop. You hum, as you continue to finalize your order.
“Mm, that depends.”
“On?”
“On what kinda decisions you make.”
Mingyu scoffs. “You’re impossible.”
“Yeah, that’s kinda my thing, you know?” you reply cheekily, clicking on the ‘Ready to Pay’ option on the screen. Just as you’re about to pull out your card, a firm hand is on your shoulder. You look up at Mingyu as he gently pushes you to the side and replaces your spot in front of the kiosk.
You don’t say anything as he punches in his own order, pulls out his credit card, and pays for both of your drinks. As the machine outputs the receipt, you show him a small smile. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”
Mingyu gives you a look. “Yeah, I did.” There’s a bit of an awkward silence. Mingyu paying for your drink isn’t too weird—your guy friends in college buy you food all the time! Albeit you do occasionally return the favor, it never feels anything more than platonic.
So why does it give you butterflies when Mingyu so casually puts you under his tab?
You choose not to care. You’re not expecting anything out of this, after all. This is just for all good fun—reminiscing, if you wanted to put it like that.
“What’d you get?” you ask him, breaking the silence, as you peer over his arm to glance at the receipt. The action has your cheek brushing against his shoulder, and something tells you the both of you are thinking about it just as much as the other.
“Passionfruit green tea,” he says, holding the receipt closer to you so you can read it more clearly.
“Mmm, yummy,” you say gleefully, giving Mingyu a cheeky smile.
“Hey,” he scoffs. “I didn’t say I’d let you try my drink! Don’t get ahead of yourself now,” he teases.
You pout and furrow your eyebrows. “What the hell, Mingyu? Why not?” you cry out overdramatically. “Oh come on, I was gonna share my toffee caramel tea with you!”
Mingyu rolls his eyes playfully. “I don’t like toffee.”
“I didn’t know that! I would have ordered something else then.”
“Too bad you didn’t,” Mingyu replies with a carefree shrug.
You glare at him, stomach fluttering with something youthful—you’re having fun with Mingyu. “That’s not fair!” you whine.
“Must suck,” he says indifferently, watching you cross your arms over your chest from the corner of his vision. Something sparks inside Mingyu in the moment, watching you look up at him through your thick lashes. “Maybe I can give you a sip or two …”
Your eyes glow. “Really?”
Mingyu grins. “Yeah, but you’re going to have to repay me.”
Your eyes meet, and there’s something electric in the way you look at each other. The thought crosses your mind that this is something you definitely shouldn’t be doing. That what you're just about to do will be a terribly wrong move for you and your freshly broken heart.
But Mingyu’s eyes are glimmering, and there’s something in your stomach that is yelling at you to stop thinking so damn much and slam on the accelerator. You beam up at him with a challenging gaze.
“How do you want me to do that?”
An hour later you’re in Mingyu’s room, stumbling through his door with your hands already all over each other. His lips are soft against yours, peppering short but hot kisses all over you, your face, your neck and—god, fuck, how does he know about that one spot on your neck?
“Ah, Mingyu,” you moan quietly when his hands palm at your hip, fingers sliding under your shirt and brushing over your skin. His hands are warm, but still you shiver at the touch—just knowing it’s Mingyu and you, alone in this moment, is enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Well, that, and the way he’s got his tongue tracing over your collarbone. He’s too good at this, you think to yourself for a moment, before getting lost in the feeling. Soon, he brings his lips back to yours, and you kiss fervently as you stumble backwards into his bed.
With the back of your knees hitting the mattress, you both go tumbling onto the sheets, and suddenly everything feels all too familiar. Mingyu’s hands in your hair. Your lips glossy and swollen as you start to press kisses into his neck. The growing heat between the two of you.
You and Mingyu twist around in the sheets for a blissful moment, clothes and hair going awry as your limbs intertwine in this hot, messy mess of a hook-up. At some point, Mingyu ends up underneath you, back propped up against the mattress so that he’s sitting up straight, your legs straddling him as you nestle in his lap.
With your hands all over each other, he’s got his grip on your hips, pushing them up and forward in a curved motion that has you grinding against him. “Fuck,” you whimper when you feel his painfully hard length brush against your throbbing heat.
Your tummy tumbles at the prospects of what’s to come. Pulling back from Mingyu’s hot lips, you get to see him in a way you never thought you’d get to again—cheeks flushed, eyes fluttered shutted, and swollen lips partially open and panting for breath. His dark wisps of hair come down over his forehead, sticking to the thin layer of sweat that coats his tan skin.
Slowly Mingyu begins to open high eyes, laughing lightly. The sound makes you want to grin into eternity. Gently, he cups your face and pulls you in for a kiss, this one much softer, much lighter than the ones before.
Mingyu kisses you with what—dare you say it—care. He kisses you with care, he holds your chin as if it were made of glass, he brushes his tongue against yours in a way that tells you he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here and—
The thoughts have you reeling. Has being sexless for the past few months made you this vulnerable? you think to yourself in a passing moment; has the lack of male physical contact been this detrimental to your ability to have sex without feelings?
The moment passes, and you choose to push your thoughts to the back of your mind, pushing your lips harder into Mingyu’s to fuel a more fiery, more aggressive kiss. He groans into it, and the burning heat you feel every time you grind down on it makes it impossible for you to wait longer.
Slowly, you pull away from him and scoot down the bed between his legs. For a moment, Mingyu is still in a daze, eyes half open as he still imagines the feeling of his lips on yours. You inch down further, bringing your hands closer and closer to the waistband of his jeans.
Right as your fingers brush over the little bit of skin that peeks between his shirt and his belt, Mingyu lets out a soft gasp. Looking up at him, you’re met with the sight of his blown out eyes as he reaches down to hold your face again.
“I-I know I said you gotta repay me, but you know, you don’t really have to—not like this at least. I mean you can, but not if you don—” Mingyu rambles for a moment, and you almost want to use that god-forsaken word. Cute.
“Hey,” you say quietly, pressing your index finger to his lip. “Lemme do this—I want to.” You feel him relax under you, the finger that was on his lips slowly tracing down his jaw and then his neck, inching to his collar and—
Oh, he’s already gotten started on unbuttoning his shirt. You almost forget to get back at it, with the way you’re staring him down right now. Mingyu chuckles a little, watching the way your eyes dilate as you gaze over him.
“Like what you see?” He says it in a way like he knows what he’s doing to you. Like he knows you’ve got a puddle between the crest of your thighs.
You’re not shameful enough to stop yourself from grinning and nodding, “I do.”
Mingyu’s eyes flame with that hunger you’ve seen before. He likes the way you’re doing this. “You’re the fuckin’ devil aren’t you?” he coos, as you start to unbuckle his belt, pulling down the waistband of his pants. He lifts his hips as you pull them further down, patiently waiting for your response.
“The devil … you must think red suits me then,” you say it like a question. The way you smile tells Mingyu you’ve got something hidden up your sleeve. While he shrugs off his unbuttoned shirt, you sit nestled between his legs still fully clothed.
Mingyu watches you as you tug at the hem of your shirt before gently pulling it over your head, revealing a deep red lacy bra underneath.
“Speak of the devil herself,” Mingyu breathes out with a small smile, continuing to watch as you shimmy off your bottoms and reveal matching red panties. You admit: it’s doing a lot for a first boba date, but you can’t help but think it fits the scene perfectly.
Mingyu leans forward, pressing kissing on the bare skin of your chest as you play with the waistband of his briefs before finally pushing them down to reveal his length. Looking down, it’s long and it’s pretty and it’s thick, with veins pushing up against the sides.
With a soft gasp, you pull away from Mingyu and slowly settle yourself lower in the bed so that you’re laying stomach side down right in between his legs. Mingyu watches you from his view above; he watches the ways your eyes slowly gaze over his dick, fingers inching toward it before finally wrapping around the base.
He nearly gasps when you do—and Kim Mingyu is no virgin—but something about the warmth in your fingertips and the softness in your touch has him feeling electric. So when you bring your tongue to his shiny tip and lap, he straight up moans.
The sound alone has you opening your mouth wider, taking him fully into your mouth and down. Immediately, Mingyu’s hands shoot to your head, scooping up bundles of your hair and holding it behind your head. Slowly, you find yourself in a pattern of moving your head up and down, except there’s just one problem.
Mingyu is far too big and he’s far too gentle—you can’t fit enough of him in your mouth and he’s not exactly pushing you down so you think it’s time to take some action.
So as gently as you can, you begin to hollow out your cheeks and push yourself further down his length, eyes shutting when he hits the back of your throat. At once, you hear a loud groan and if you could move your lips right now, you’d be grinning.
And so you do it again. You pull your head back up and just as your lips are about to leave his tip you come back down and push as far as you can go, each time going a bit further down than the last. You do it a few more times before your jaw begins to ache for a break, and you pull yourself off of him completely.
You’re met with Mingyu’s dazed eyes as you look up. “You’re crazy,” he pants, fingers still tangled in your hair. “Holy fuck, you’re crazy.”
You grin up at him. “Sorry,” you say cheekily, watching as he throws his head back, taking deep breaths of air. His firm chest rises up and down heavily, and the heat between your legs grows at the realization that you’re the one to have him like this.
“Don’t apologize—shit—that was so—d-do that again,” he says, eyes darkening when he looks back down at you. His hands gingerly wipe some tears from your cheeks, going back up to hold your hair all the way back again. “That was so fucking hot.”
Your stomach churns as you part your lips again, wrapping them around his tip which now adorns a pretty stream of pre. He groans again when you envelop him in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you start to move down again.
To be honest, you’re not usually this good at giving head, but with Mingyu, he’s got this—oh, there it is—the way your name rolls of his lips in a deep, guttural tone that has you gushing in your panties, and then you can’t help but press down more.
So you do it again, and again, until Mingyu’s practically thrusting his hips up as you take him into your mouth, his handsome face glistening with sweat from restraining himself. You don’t know how much time goes by but at some point you feel a tug; you look up and it’s Mingyu’s hands guiding your head off of him and pulling you into his mouth.
He kisses you messily, tongues licking into each others’ mouths as you shift so that you’re back at straddling him. With Mingyu fully naked, your bare stomach presses against his skin when his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close.
Instinctively, your arms wrap around Mingyu’s neck as you continue to kiss into him, bodies melting into one. You ease back to your previous movement of grinding into him, but with such little fabric between the two of you this time, it’s getting harder and harder to wait.
It doesn’t take long for his hand to make its way to your panties, rubbing your heat over the soaked fabric for a moment before lifting it and pushing it to the side.
Mingyu pulls away now, watching your face slowly contort into expressions of pleasure as he runs his fingers up and down between your sopping hole and clit.
“Mingyu,” you manage to whimper through heavy breaths.
“Yeah baby?” The nickname itself nearly has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He probably doesn’t have a clue about what he does to you.
“Can’t wait,” you tell him quickly, hands already grabbing for his glistening length. Mingyu, a little startled by your forwardness, falters back into the headboard a bit, relaxing for hardly a second before he feels your fingers guiding his dick toward your hole.
He thought he’d sit there and finger you first—give you a good eating out because if anything, Mingyu’s always really wanted a taste of you first—but something about the way you look at him with these eyes that look like you’d give him the world and more has him bending to your needy wishes/
So, when his tip is finally at your entrance, you both moan loudly. Your fingers make your way up to Mingyu’s neck, playing with the soft and short hairs that sit at the nape of his neck. “Oh,” you say in a sigh when his hips gently push you down to envelope his tip.
Even having him in your mouth couldn’t prepare you for taking Mingyu’s length inside of you. His tip, thick and bulbous, presses into you, and inch by inch you begin to let out small gasps.
“You’re—holy shit, you’re so big, M’ngyu,” you whimper.
You say it so cutely, Mingyu can’t help but groan under his breath. “Yeah?” he manages out, trying to hide the extent to which you’ve got him in a daze. “Can’t take it?” he coos.
Mingyu is, at the very least, extremely pleased when you—you, in your lustful, hazy state—still manage to cock an eyebrow at him and retort, “Of course I can.”
“Atta girl,” Mingyu murmurs, smiling with pride as he reaches for hips. Lowering your body over his dick, he watches you carefully while you continue to take him all in.
The way your chest heaves up and down in short breaths as you try to control yourself. The way your eyebrows pinch together every few seconds when you let out a small moan. The way your stomach twitches and turns when he brushes a finger over your clit.
You’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful to Mingyu, he doesn’t think anyone can comprehend all the ways he wants to fuck you right now. Well, that is, anyone but you, because as soon as your bottom is pressed against Mingyu’s legs and you’ve gone as far down as you can go, you bring yourself back up and grind back down on his dick.
“Fuck, do that again,” Mingyu demands, but it comes out as nothing more than a pleading gasp as you both get used to the feeling of each other—it’s overwhelming, yet in the best way possible. “You’re so damn hot,” he murmurs when you repeat the motion, pressing wet kisses into your neck.
Each roll of your hips is punctuated with a quiet moan from your lips, the two of your lips meeting every few moments in a fiery but fleeting kiss. Mingyu fills you up so deeply, in a way that leaves you wanting more and more.
Your body is on fire and you can’t seem to stop now. It’s just—Mingyu’s got his dick pressing all the spots inside of you that have you biting down on your bottom lip, that have you digging your fingers into the hard muscle of his shoulder, that have you moaning into his mouth.
But even your own body has limits, because while the feeling of you bouncing back down on his length every time is nothing short of euphoric, your legs only have so much strength. Gradually, your legs begin to get sore.
Within seconds Mingyu notices the falter in your movements, and suddenly his hands are under your thighs, picking you up, and flipping you onto your back. Your back is now against the mattress, head resting on a soft pillow as Mingyu readjusts above you.
“Getting tired?” Mingyu chuckles, as he reaches down for his dick, aligning it at your entrance once more. A needy whine escapes your throat when he finally is inside of you again, his length filling up what felt far too empty in those passing moments before.
“Didn’t—ah! D-Didn’t take you as the type to make the girl do a-all the work,” you bite back.
Mingyu cocks his eyebrow at you, and you almost want to grin at the way his eyes darken at your challenging comment. “You got a bad bad mouth, huh? Let’s see if you can talk much anymore soon.” You open your mouth to respond, but at the last moment, Mingyu pushes that last bit of his length inside of you, effectively rendering you speechless as you see stars and try to quiet the rush in your ears. Mingyu just laughs. “Didn’t think so.”
He pauses for a few seconds inside of you, and you take this chance to admire him in a way you didn’t get to before. His skin is flushed all over, pink blooming over his cheeks as he swipes a tongue over his lips. As your gaze travels down, you catch sight of his abs once again, and you can’t help but grin at just the idea of getting to see him like this.
Now, Mingyu starts out with his first thrust. It’s deep, and unforgiving might you add. You shriek loudly, not expecting to fill you up even more than before, yet somehow it’s both equally overwhelming and infinitely more euphoric.
Based on the volume of your response to the first, he follows with another thrust, this one nearly as moving. Your responses mimic the last, and soon, Mingyu enjoys the pleasure of seeing you become a moaning mess beneath him.
So there Mingyu is, fucking the daylights out of you, one his palm cupping your cheek. And now here he goes, jotting his thumb out and pushing against your lips. It doesn’t even take a second for you to part your lips, his thumb slipping inside.
“Good fucking girl,” he grunts under his breath where you roll your tongue over the pad of his finger tip. Faintly, Mingyu recalls the way you swiped your tongue over his dick and there he goes with a particularly hard thrust at the thought.
Your legs are folded up completely, thighs pressing into your chest deeply every time Mingyu pounds into you. A moan stifles up one after another, muffled by his thumb in your mouth, but somehow not getting any quieter.
It’s around this point when Mingyu starts to feel it, the way you squirm a bit more after each deep, pointed thrust. The way your mouth starts to widen more and more, moans getting louder by the moment. The way you’re tightening around him—and there goes his queue.
His thumb in your mouth is pulled out and quickly moved down your stomach between your legs and right on your clit. That’s when you move from moaning to downright whimpering—whining—into Mingyu’s shoulders.
Your toes begin to tighten as he continues to slam into you, every muscle in your body beginning to go limp as you rake your fingers into his back, trying to hold on to something to ground you.
“I know baby,” Mingyu moans, his hands holding onto your hips with such a tightness you know you’ll be left with bruises.
“I’m s’close,” you manage to gasp out, hips meekly pushing up as well to meet Mingyu’s half way. You’re trying your best to keep to it together but fuck, it all feels so good—his skin is so hot but somehow your core feels even hotter.
You feel tears of pleasure roll down your cheeks when you finally feel it—Mingyu’s length so deep inside of you, pressing up against your walls in all the right places—and so you crash.
Moaning and whimpering and writhing beneath him, you cry out when you finish, “Mingyu, fuck! I’m—’m coming.”
To which Mingyu gently kisses your neck while roughly pounding into you harder, now trying to meet his own end in deep fervor. “I know baby, I know jus’—fuck,” he nearly cuts himself off with his own moan when he feels your tight pussy squeeze around him. “Just’ hold on for me a little longer s—oh.”
You’ve got some spell on him. That’s got to be it. A damn spell has got to be the reason Mingyu’s finding himself way quicker than he’s ever before.
You’re brain is a bit too fucked to register the beautiful mix of shock and pleasure that crosses over Mingyu’s face when he begins to paint your soft walls white. “Fuck,” Mingyu groans loudly, pressing his dick so deep into you that you think you’d be able to feel it through your belly.
You squeal softly at the feeling—your pussy is now a hot, sopping, sensitive mess, and Mingyu’s cock is just far too long and far too fat for you to handle. However, the feeling of his seed fill you up has a warmth that overtakes the slight feeling of discomfort.
The air in his room begins to grow quiet and still as Mingyu finally slips his softening length out of you. You still lay with your back against the sheets, Mingyu pulling himself off without a word and flopping down on the bed next to you.
This silence is new.
It’s not uncomfortable, but there still seems to be some unspoken words that fill the space between you and Mingyu. Only the sound of your heavy breaths fills the room, the erratic patterns steadily starting to even out.
“Was that enough repayment for you?” you finally ask casually, breaking the silence. Mingyu chuckles softly.
“It was … pretty nice, I guess,” he responds, pushing himself up into a sitting position to fix the covers more comfortably over the both of you.
You narrow your eyebrows up at him. “Pretty nice? I’m gonna kill you!”
This time Mingyu laughs. “What do you want me to say? Yeah, it was fucking amazing?”
You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Well, would that be the truth?” you challenge him, a smirk making its way onto your lips.
“Of course it would be,” Mingyu scoffs—something about his shameless admission of praise has your cheeks burning and eyes lighting up. “But if I say that, then it means you’ve fully repaid me, and that means that we don’t have to do this again.”
“Ah I get it, so you’re lying to me so you can fuck me again,” you reply. Mingyu rolls his eyes at you.
“If that’s what you want to call it,” he pauses, and looks like he’s contemplating something before continuing. “But I mean, you can totally say no. Because with the way you’re talking, it seems like you aren’t interested so why don’t I save you the pain of having to reject me and—” As he turns away to grab something from his night stand, you cut him off.
“Hey, I didn’t say that!” you exclaim once you catch where he’s going. You say it so brazenly it startles Mingyu a little, and he turns around to face you.
Your eyes meet and oh—there it is again. That feeling in your stomach, a warm knot that tumbles around. You’re not sure what it means. You’re not sure what this means—this being you laying in Mingyu’s bed.
Something in the way Mingyu looks at you tells you you’re not going to have an answer for a while.
Something in the way Mingyu smiles at you tells you that you’re at least going to have some fun trying to find out.

a/n: hopeeeee u guys liked it! btw reader is a self insert so if u don't like her GET AWWWT. anywho i was rly nervous about posting this but here we go ... wait can u guys believe it took me literally 3 months to write this smut. i had the entire fic + more follow up stuff but all i had to write was this chunk of smut in the middle and i didn't do it literally just because i didn't want to. i don't like writing smut in full lenth fics anymore (ramble time. pls ignore me) because i have to write the entire scene. like i enjoy smut drabbles because it's fun i get to experiment but unless it's a full length fic related to a sex relate concept then it's fun (aka crybaby). i personally don't really enjoy most of the other smuts i write for things like this fic + flight of the stars, etc, because it's just the same kind of smut scene rewritten in different ways. i feel i'm not even doing it in different ways atp—I FEEL I AM LITERALLY WRITING THE SAME SCENES I HAVE WRITTEN BEFORE. how many different ways can one write "oh my god that feels so good" like sorry. okay i'm done with my rant and for clarity i actually do not care this much. i just think it's funny but i get it because i like little smuts like this when i read it's just a pain to write because at some point it's hard to get creative and i feel like i'm being a lazy writer :/ i write all this and complain and blah blah but i do really enjoy it like OK yeah i spent 3 months writing this smut but it ended up being way longer than i anticipated so ummm whose fault is that?! (everyone look away from tumblr user toruru) ok sorry if u stayed til the end of this author's note actually please let me know and i will be sending u virtual kisses. anywhp pls feel free to leave comments/reblogs they mean the absolute world to me
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People always do how Danny is related to Bruce. Could you please do one where they’re related to Babs instead. Maddie is Gordon’s ex. Babs chose to stay with her dad when they divorced and eventually Maddie moves to Amity/loses touch. It’s actually Babs that Danny and Jazz are related to. Babs is shocked to find out she’s a big sister (twice over) when a girl who looks near identical to her younger self comes to check out some psych books for classes at Gotham U.
(For a minute, I was absolutely horrified to get this ask bc I thought it was Maddie x Babs and I was like ???!?? but then I reread and gave a sigh of relief bc it’s actually the Commissioner x Maddie)
Part 2
Barbara was fervently typing on her computer, pulling up records and social media accounts and old posts. She was typing so fast and hacking into so many databases that everyone who was invading her Tower and her space stopped and stared at her with worry in their eyes.
Jason, as he was bothering Stephanie to go help him on a case, paused and stared at the screen.
“Damn. Who’s that hottie?” He asked, pointing at a picture of a girl with long red hair.
Barbara slapped his hand away and hissed. “Don’t you dare! If you even touch her, look at her, or even breathe the same air as her, I’m posting your blackmail online! And I’m sending Bruce all of the stuff I’ve kept hidden for you!”
“Jesus H. Christ!” Jason shrieked, recoiling with his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay! Touchy! Sheesh!”
Stephanie asked, “Wait, O, who is this? And who’s that boy too?”
Cassandra leaned closer. “Cute.”
Barbara whirled around to glare at her. With the glow of her computer behind her, she looked a little crazy, but no one was going to say it to her face.
Cassandra took a step back with her hands up in the air. She eyed Barbara like she was about to pounce.
“Don’t worry about it,” Barbara took a deep breath and then grumbled. “I’m just figuring something out.”
She muttered something and then continued to type, scrolling and finding more information. At some point, she was pulling up photos and school records from elementary school websites too. There were papers that showed grades from even pre-kindergarten.
Jason, Cassandra, and Stephanie all shared a look. Then they all quietly slipped out of the Tower, leaving Barbara in her information gathering frenzy.
“… so that was weird, right?” Jason said. Stephanie nodded quickly.
Cassandra said, “She was protective over them. She knows them. Or doesn’t, but is trying to.”
“Overcompensation, mayhaps?” Jason hummed. “You think we can find out who they are before she can approach them first?”
Stephanie and Cassandra looked at each other and then nodded at Jason. “I’ll do it only because I’m curious.” Stephanie paused and then looked at Jason and Cassandra with narrowed eyes. “Wait a minute, are you two just interested because the two people she was looking at were cute?”
Jason smiled, batting his eyes innocently. “No?”
Cassandra made a zipping motion between her lips.
Jason grinned and then said, “Well, it’s not like you can stop us, right? We’re in this together. If Babs is going to spread my embarrassing moments online, I’m taking you all down with me, because if we get caught, I’m going to be a snitch. So let’s go!”
Then he took out his grappling hook and then shot it, swinging off of the Tower. Cassandra also quickly followed without any hesitation.
Stephanie sighed loudly, her head hanging. “I’m so going to regret this.”
From a Gotham City apartment, two siblings sneezed in unison. They blinked and then looked at each other oddly before moving on.
It sure was windy tonight.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#anon ask#jazz fenton#danny fenton#barbara gordon#jason todd#cassandra wayne#cassandra cain#anger management ship#hardcover ship#jason x jazz#danny x cass#dead silent ship#half sister au#stephanie brown#ty for the ask!
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scenario: blue lock boys when they go shopping with you! ft. bachira, isagi, rin, alexis, kaiser and shidou <3
warnings: none, sfw/fluff, little bit suggestive for Kaiser’s part
a/n: I love these slice of life moments :x
Bachira Meguru — would follow you around like a little duckling, making funny faces in the mirrors, trying on random face shit- etc.
This guy is sniffing every single perfume sample, trying on all the free face masks, looking around the whole store with you. Shopping attendants love him.
“What’s this?”
“Toner,”
“And this?”
“Face Serum,”
“Ooo…and this?”
“Eyelash curler,”
“Blehh…it looks like a torture device,”
Isagi Yoichi — is the most patient shopper you’ve ever met. He does a lot of research, asking you about the things you’re planning on getting beforehand and finding out all about them. Reading every review and scouring for deals. He’s probably better prepared than you are.
You’re never going to regret a purchase with him around.
“Isagi, what do you think about this?”
“Oh, I saw something about this on the official website. Don’t get it. It’s for oily skin, you have combination skin. Get this instead!”
Itoshi Rin — would let you know exactly what he thinks. No sugarcoating, no pulled punches. You asked for his opinion, you’re gonna get it. He’s 100% honest in what he says. This means that when he compliments a dress on you, he legitimately thinks you look pretty in it. He also has an uncanny eye for colour theory and matching.
“Rin, what about this one?”
“You look better with the red. This one washes your skin tone out,”
“You really have an eye for these things, eh?”
Alexis Ness — thinks you look hot in everything. Worst opinion giver ever, because he just hypes you up no filter. He isn’t even trying to lie, he literally thinks you’re just so pretty in everything you wear or do.
“Okay, so I was thinking about this one…”
“Heilige Scheiße, you’re so pretty. Buy it! Oh my god-“
“How about this next one?”
“…You keep getting hotter- please- this is…I’m going to faint-“
“…and this…?” *wearing a clown costume*
“This one makes you look so cute, Liebling (darling),”
Michael Kaiser — is a goddamn diva. He’s shopping WITH you. He thinks you deserve to look as gorgeous as you are, waiting outside the changing room for you to give him a mini runway show. Definitely comments all throughout.
“Micha~ so this is the first one…”
“Sexy as expected. God- I want to eat you raw,”
“…there are other people here-“
“Mmm…is that a problem? They’ve just had a look at an angel so…”
Shidou Ryusei — fashionista. Diva. Regularly watches beauty gurus. He knows shit, and he makes sure you never forget it. This man paints his own nails, wears a goddamn headband and serves 10/10 cunt everytime you see him. He’s coquette if it had muscles.
“I was thinking of getting this skin cream, I saw it in a review…”
“Nah. That shit’s kind of ass, I tried it once and I had a break out. Get this other one instead. And that lip oil. And that eye patch. Oh-! I saw that moisturiser online, it looks cool,”
Nagi Seishiro — is the worst shopper. His social battery wants to explode into itself in malls. He would totally follow you just to spend time with you, but don’t expect hour long trips. He’s also kind of blur when it comes to fashion and skincare and…he’ll just play some games on his console while waiting for you.
“What do you think of this one?”
“Huh….well…it kind of looks like all the other ones you’ve tried. It looks nice,”
#blue lock kaiser#michael kaiser#kaiser x reader#kaiser#bllk kaiser#bllk manga#bllk#naruto#bllk isagi#isagi yoichi#blue lock isagi#isagi x reader#bllk bachira#blue lock nagi#nagi seishiro#nagi seishiro x reader#bachira meguru#blue lock bachira#bachira x reader#bachira x you#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#blue lock rin itoshi#itoshi rin x you#alexis ness#alexis ness x reader#michael kaiser headcanons#shidou ryusei#bllk shidou
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i see her online... all the time!
stanford art donaldson x camgirl! reader
tw smut, reader is a camgirl and knows art irl, sneaky art
art was a good person. he told himself that every night when he collapsed into the single bed of his dorm, already opening his laptop, already searching your screen name on a website that could surely get him banned from the campus wifi. he told himself that as you appeared on his screen, the quality doing no justice to your shining skin. he was raised to know better than this, yes, but he was lonely, and you were always there. when tashi started dating patrick, when they effectively both abandoned him, you were there. when he had a shitty match and needed some way to vent his frustrations, you were there, always. well, except for weekends, coincidentally when he had most of his matches, but no one could be available 100% of the time, surely.
the first time he stumbled across your stream, he'd nearly slammed his laptop closed from the intimacy of it all. you looked so normal, so unlike the exaggerated, surgically altered women he was used to seeing. you were just a girl alone in her room, dressed in tiny shorts and a tinier tank top, your face concealed but your voice soft and sweet enough to distract him from caring. you looked like an angel, from the limited view he had. you spoke with a lilting, faux innocence, like you knew something he didn't. you told him, told all of your viewers, exactly what you'd do if you were there with them instead of all alone on the other side of the screen. he hadn’t meant to, that very first time, hadn’t intended on sneaking his hand beneath his shorts, on spilling over the keys of his laptop with a curse. you’d pulled something out of him, something he’d buried with the thoughts of his want for tashi and patrick. he felt new, refreshed, free. so it continued, naturally.
every time he could, he’d stumble into his room, already picturing your body, already hearing your voice in his ears as he typed in his password haphazardly. a few moments of loading, and there you were, a vision just for him. well, he could pretend that you were only his. he ignored the comments, the constant stream of tips and notes displayed along the bottom of the screen. it didn’t matter, not really. he knew if you only knew him, really knew him, you’d forget all those other guys. they were probably old and washed up, and art was a good guy, really! you’d love him, maybe. he’d at least be good to you. that was what got him the most - the idea of being good. some nights, when you were leaning more on the dominant side of things for your viewers, you’d murmur it in a low tone. “bet you’re doing so good for me, pumping your cock so good,” his eyes would roll back at the very word being spilled from your lips, “go on, cum for me like a good boy,” and every time, without fail, he did. he was devoted, a total goner for you, and you had no idea.
most nights you were softer, more pliable. you’d lean into the submissive role in a way art typically didn’t care for. with you, though? he let his head fill with visions of taking care of you, in whichever way you desired, whichever way you needed. he’d think of you underneath him, crying from pleasure, your moans filling his ears as he watched you finger yourself for the camera. he’d praise you, alone in his room, mouth watering with need. “so pretty,” he’d pant, cheeks flushed and pupils dilated as he trained his eyes on the screen, “oh, baby, just like that,” he came best that way, praising a girl who wasn’t even there. he could pretend, of course. he’d always had a good imagination, always a very vivid dreamer. it took no effort at all to imagine you riding him as he fucked his fist, came easy as breathing to picture you writhing beneath him as he ground against his pillow.
no one knew, of course. he’d be totally humiliated if anyone found out- tennis star and stanford prodigy can’t get a girlfriend so he pretends? no, no one could know. there were girls he was interested in, of course. you, for example! you were gorgeous, warm smiles and bright eyes, smooth skin and toned muscles from keeping up with him. but you’d never give him the time of day, he was sure. you were beautiful, and all the boys on the team could see it. and you were so sweet, always making conversation with anyone, even when he could tell you didn’t care. he’d picture you on nights he was particularly desperate, allow himself the secret pleasure of imagining your face as the camgirl fucked herself on his laptop screen. he always came the hardest when he imagined you were there to lap it up, your name falling from his lips from a place of utmost shame. he’d apologize after, in his head, sincere apologies for being such a fucking creep. shame would claw at him the next day when he saw you, when you smiled up at him and passed him a gatorade. his neck would flush red, his cheeks following soon after, and he’d have to force his eyes away from you to stop the images playing on a loop behind his eyes.
he’d been feeling particularly bold one night, working up the nerve to send a chat. ‘could you maybe show off a little? ur so pretty, just wanna see u.’ you’d laughed, a soft giggle, and acknowledged his request immediately. you stood, pulling your tank top over your head and tossing it off screen, palming your breasts as you danced before the camera, slow and alluring. you spun, revealing a small tattoo on your back, just above the line of your shorts. he hid the image in his head, memorized the plane of your spine, the flush of your skin. “hope that was good,” you murmured, laying across your bed, “you like seeing me like that?” ‘god, yes. so fuckin pretty.’ he replied, one hand typing as the other slid beneath his pants. you took the camera lower, removed your shorts, and he was a lost cause, finishing before he could even get his sweatpants off. “fuck,” he exhaled, watching for a moment before closing the laptop, his hands shaking slightly from the intensity of his orgasm, “god, i gotta get it together,”
the next day at practice, you’d said something in passing, something as simple as hello or how are you, but he’d gotten hung up on the words. a rush of familiarity hit him, a shiver moving down his spine as he tried to place it. he shook it off, focusing on practice, on anything but you. but then he’d hit the ball just a bit too hard, sending you laughing and running after it, and when you leaned down to retrieve it, his eyes landed on it. a small black star, just above your tennis skirt, stark against the white of your uniform. his brows furrowed in confusion, but not before a jolt of warmth went through him, an uncomfortable tightness in his shorts. “fuck,” he mumbled under his breath, running a hand over his face. he thought of it all, laid the facts out. your voice was familiar, but a lot of girls sounded like that, right? and sure, your hair was the same color, but it was common! the tattoo, though? that left him questioning everything, his eyes watching your every movement, his mind reeling as he listening to every word you said. it had to be you, surely. but at the same time, it felt impossible, like the most unlikely thing in the world. you were so sweet, so friendly! you didn’t even date any guys at school. surely not. but then you asked him to grab you a water, and when he passed it to you, you’d smiled and said “good boy,” teasingly, and it clicked. it was you.
he went home that night, opened your stream, kept his hands out of his pants and his mind out of the gutter. he was all focus, curiosity eating him alive. he sent you a text, the real you, his hands shaking slightly as he typed. ‘hey! do you remember what time the match is saturday?’ it was simple, friendly. he watched as the phone lying beside your laptop lit up, and you snatched it up before the notification could be seen from the camera, tossing it behind you like nothing had happened. confirmation left him oddly more confused, and then you were back to acting like you’d never been disturbed, sweet talking and running your hands down your body. “get a grip,” he scolded himself as he grew harder, slamming the computer closed. it felt tainted now, the sanctity all gone, replaced with something wrong, something that rendered him guilty. he shook it off, tried to ignore the warmth between his thighs, and went to sleep. he’d deal with it tomorrow.
the next day came sooner than he would have liked, which meant seeing you again. you were all smiles at practice, as usual, too friendly. it felt wrong now, unauthentic, sullied by his darkest thoughts of you. by the end of the day, he couldn’t fight it anymore. he had to tell you he knew, had to what, exactly? apologize? no, that wasn’t right. he just had to- before he could figure it out, you were standing before him, frowning slightly. “did i do something?” you asked, slight pout on your lips. god, your fucking lips. “no!” he shook his head, too quick, “no, of course not!” “you’ve been weird all day,” you said, clearly not believing him, “is it because i didn’t reply last night? sorry, i was just busy-“ “i know you were,” it came out all wrong, “shit, sorry, i-“ “you know i was?” you eyed him curiously, brows knit. “i just assumed,” he lied, biting the inside of his cheek, “actually, i- can i talk to you? alone?”
you agreed, all too easily, and followed him to the locker room, long abandoned by your teammates. “look, i- i don’t know how to say this, so i’m just gonna go,” he said hesitantly, “i was accidentally watching your stream and i swear i didn’t know it was you, but then i put it together last night and i’m so sorry, i swear it won’t ever happen again, i feel-“ you grinned, confusing him further, “yeah, art, i know,” “what?” his eyes widened, “how do you know that?” “your screen name wasn’t really secretive. artemis? that’s what i called you the first time we met,” “oh, fuck,” he ran a hand over his face, palms sweating suddenly, “are you mad? i really am so sorry,” “mad?” you repeated, shaking your head, “no, art, i’m not mad. honestly? it was pretty hot, knowing you’d been watching me, then seeing you try to pretend you didn’t know. did you watch a lot?” “what?” he was still reeling, still trying to process. he’d expected anger, embarrassment, maybe. anything but this smug look on your face. “i guess i- i watched a lot,” he admitted, “especially lately,” “oh, i know,” you murmured, that tone all too familiar now, “you could have any girl you wanted, art. why’re you watching me all alone at night, hm?”
“i didn’t- i don’t really have a lot of luck with girls,” he was embarrassed now, warm all over, “i’ve liked you for a long time, but i didn’t know how to tell you, and i figured you had a boyfriend maybe,” “does this change anything?” you asked, voice softer, “are you not interested now?” “god, no,” he said quickly, “of course i’m still interested. maybe more now, i don’t know,” “more?” you giggled, your grin returned, “you liked watching me that much?” he could feel the blood rushing, and he halfway willed it to stop, “of course i did. you’re beautiful,” “you’re so sweet,” you said softly, “you wanna touch me like that, hm? wanna see what it’s like?”
“maybe we shouldn’t-“ he looked around the empty locker room, eyes wide, pulse thrumming. “there’s nobody here,” you said simply, “do you wanna kiss me, art?” “yes,” he nodded before he could even think, “yes, so badly,” “take what you want, then,” he was on you without a second thought, kissing you desperately, too far gone to take his time. he looped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, whining against your lips when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulled at his hair gently. you pulled away to trail your lips down his jaw, then to his neck, leaving him panting like a virgin as you licked up the column of his throat. one of your hands crept lower, brushing over his cock as it strained against his shorts. “fuck,” he groaned, grabbing at your wrist, “if you keep going, i won’t be able to stop,” “who i said i wanted you to stop?” you whispered, biting at his earlobe.
he lost it then, throwing all of his self doubt as far away as he could manage and leaning down to scoop you up, his hands on the backs of your thighs and his tongue tracing your bottom lip as he walked you to the showers. your clothes were off in what felt like seconds, and he nearly came as you stood before him, naked and glistening in the water. “you’re so beautiful,” he almost choked on the words, his heart racing. he shed his own clothes, kissing you again, the water sticking his hair to his face as he backed you against the wall. you snuck a hand between your bodies, wrapping it around him painfully slow, pumping him and drawing whines from his swollen lips. “need to make you feel good,” he managed between half drowned moans, “is that okay?” “whatever you want, art,” you said softly, your voice full of that familiar fake innocence. “oh, fuck me,” he dropped to his knees, pulling one of your thighs up to rest on his shoulder, diving in and lapping at your pussy like he was starving without it. “oh,” you gasped, sharp and surprised, and buried your hand in his hair, back arched off the cold shower wall. “so good,” he moaned into your skin, his chin slick and eyes heavy with lust as he peered up at you. you rolled your hips against him, moaning so pretty he nearly came untouched. “wanna fuck you,” you finally whined, pulling at his hair, “plenty of time for that later,”
he let you guide him, all too eager, his muscles taut with want as he kissed you again. “taste like me,” you mumbled against his mouth, licking at the skin beneath his lips, “didn’t know you were so dirty, art,” “only for you,” he replied, biting at your bottom lip, his hands grabbing at your ass as he pulled you up, your legs around his waist, “can i?” “told you to take what you want,” you grabbed his chin just hard enough to get his attention, “go on,” he moaned, quiet and low in his throat, as he sank you down onto his cock. “oh my god,” your nails scraped against his shoulders, “oh, art,” “so tight,” he buried his face in your neck, half focused on sucking marks into your skin, “god, you feel so fuckin good,” he pressed you against the wall, using it for support as he pounded into you, moaning incessantly as he got lost in pleasure. “yeah, right there,” you mewled as he repositioned, hitting deeper inside you, “m close,” “come on,” he groaned quietly, “need to feel you cum for me, baby, make a mess like you do on your little stream,” “fuck!” you clawed at his back as you came, clenching around him, sucking him in deeper as you rode out your high. “atta girl,” he let out an embarrassingly breathy moan, “god, you’re perfect,”
he let you down to reposition, but you dropped to your knees instead, looking up at him with blown pupils and smeared mascara as you took him into your mouth. he gasped, his hand tangling in your hair, watching, entranced, as you took him down your throat. “oh, baby,” he moaned, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, “not gonna last if you keep looking at me like that,” you reached up, your hand resting beneath his balls, rolling them gently as you choked on his cock, and he was so close. “gonna- baby, fuck, gonna cum-“ he whined, voice high and hoarse as his cock twitched. you pulled him from your lips just as he came, your tongue out as you pumped him through his orgasm, his cum landing on your cheeks and open mouth. “oh my god,” his eyes rolled back, hips jerking as he caught his breath, “you’re so pretty,” he sucked in a breath as your tongue returned, licking him clean, swallowing the evidence. “like that?” you pressed a kiss to his thigh, your cheeks still gleaming, “am i your little pornstar?” “god, yes,” he ran a hand through his soaked hair, chest heaving, “all mine,”
you giggled as you stood, legs slightly shaky, and rinsed your face and hair in the now chilly shower water. “was that as good as you hoped?” “better,” he murmured, snaking an arm around your waist from behind, his chin leaned on your shoulder as he let the water flow over him, “you’re fucking incredible,” “you could come on the stream,” you turned in his arms, kissing his cheek, “would you like that, hm? wanna fuck me in front of everyone?” blood rushed down once again, a low groan dying in his throat, “do you want that?” “i want whatever you want,” you hummed, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before ducking out of the water, grabbing for a towel, “think about it, yeah?” “could i take you to dinner first?” he called after you, stumbling out of the stall, pulling a towel around his waist. “mm, we’ll see!” you didn’t wait for him to dry off, just toweled the beads of water away and pulled on a fresh change of clothes, pausing by the door, “night, artemis!”
a week later, he took you to dinner off campus, something casual but nice enough to warrant seeing you in a dress. afterwards, he pounded you into your mattress, your face pressed into the comforter. he tried his best to stay off camera, but afterwards, when you were half asleep and scrolling, you showed him one comment. ‘wait, is that fucking art donaldson?’ the comment was left by none other than a screen name pattycake, a nickname given by a much younger art. god.
#challengers#art donaldson#mike faist#art x reader#challengers 2024#matchpointfaist#art donaldson fic#art donaldson x reader#artdonaldson#art donaldson smut#art x reader smut#art donaldson au#art donaldson x you#art smut#art x camgirl! reader#stanford art donaldson#stanford art#stanford! art x camgirl! reader
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"WHY WON'T YOU ANSWER ME!"

Vodou or Voodoo!reader x platonic Yandere batfam
You haven't gotten out of bed in days, lying there rotting away like a bone. Your amulet, once vibrant purple, is now dusty and dark. Your bedroom is cold, and your altar is neglected; the candles are out. You haven’t put food there, fixed the tablecloth, or done anything. You haven’t prayed or performed a ceremonial dance. You've never been this depressed, this sad, or this angry; you're in despair. Ever since arriving at the mansion, you've felt your life and soul being sucked out, which is strange—you were so lively before. You feel dead, yet you can hear the chatter and laughter downstairs seeping through your thick walls. Usually, you drown it out, but today you listen. You can feel their smiles, their joy, their anger—everything, yet you're not present.
“Why don’t you go down there?” a spirit says, its ghostly hand caressing your shoulder.
“They don’t want me there; you know that already,” you say, your voice cracks. Of course it did; you were crying for hours, maybe even longer, but better not count. “Don’t be like that; they’re your family.”
You scoff at what the spirit says. You want to slap its hand away, but you obviously can't touch it; you can't even feel it, just the cold air that caresses your dark skin.
“I’ll only ruin it,” you say, hovering overhead, letting your despair consume you. If you continue like this, how will you become a great Priestess? Your altar has no gifts, no offerings. You haven’t fixed your hair in days; you haven’t sent us anything, and we love your voice. “Please, my child,” the spirit pleads, “you do not want to go down there. At least do something.”
You don’t answer again. You curl up into a ball. The spirit sighs. “As you wish, young Priestess,” and they disappear into purple smoke. But all you can think about, deep in your head, is that it just isn’t fair. You’re a nice kid; you’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re honest, you’re polite—the nicest of them all. Even if there was a niceness contest, you’d come out on top, leaving everybody in your wake. But your father seems to favor the ones who are cruel, mean, and rude. Your younger brother, Damian—a little devil, held you at swordpoint, threatened to kill you, called you a bastard, and you’re supposed to forgive him with open arms? What kind of idiot does Bruce take you for?
And your older brother, who prides himself on family, barely even knows you—the sucker might have to look up your middle name, maybe even your birthday, on some celebrity website. He’s always spending time with the little devil; you have no clue why. You’re way more fun to hang out with than him. But who cares? And your second eldest brother is rude, scary, and he smells like pure death, as if he crawled out of his grave, clutching dirt from the ground beneath him. It makes sense—his eyes are naturally green, just like Damian's, but he’s alive. It just doesn’t make sense. Maybe Papa Legba, but him cross without knowing.
And the brother who is the same age as you, Timothy, makes you snore when you hear his name. He’s intellectual, so smart, and yet so stupid, so dumb, and so hypocritical. He’ll find everything and anything to correct you on, even if you’re right, just to ensure that you’re slightly off the mark. The brother you thought you would have an unbreakable bond with is so tight he cut off blood circulation; yet, this bond is flimsier than a piece of string. He’s always talking with Cass, and you're never invited. You have more in common than they think, but to them, you’re just another bastard of Bruce Wayne—Cass, Steph, and Babs are your sisters. You’re supposed to gossip, talk about boys, play hand games, and hold each other, but they are only close with each other and not you.
I mean, trios were never meant to be broken; who even wants a quartet? You pray to Bondye every night. You expel all the darkness within your amulet, and your wishes are always the same each night: “Please, Supreme Lord, let them greet me with open arms; let them see me as their kin; let them love me; let them notice me.” But each night, you are met with nothing but silence. Bondye is quiet, and so are the loa. They always talked to you, but whenever you beg for this family to see you, they can never answer; they can never give advice. At first, you thought it was a test—a series of trials you had to go through to prove that you were worthy of their love. So whenever you were met with hostility, it was like the sharp end of a blade. You opened your arms to them; the trials got harder, and it started to become impossible.
Maybe I have to go in a different direction; maybe meet force with force. But then you get scolded. Maybe you just don’t fight back, but if you don’t, then you will be forgotten. So what next? How do you pass this test, these everlasting trials? You have no clue, no idea, and in fact, you feel lost, and you start to lose faith. Maybe you were just not meant to be loved; you weren’t meant for affection, you weren’t meant to be held, dear. So you let that bitterness and anger swallow you whole as you wallow in your own sorrow and self-pity. This young High Priestess is filled with hurt.
#x black reader#weird!reader#black!reader#batfamily x neglected reader#x neglected reader#yandere batboys#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#black fem reader#magical!reader#voodoo!reader#voodoo#vodou#haitian vodou#vodou!reader#dc comics#dc fanfiction#dc fics#dc headcanon#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake#yandere dick grayson#yandere duke thomas#yandere cassandra cain#yandere stephanie brown#yandere barbara gordon#yandere bruce wayne#yandere batman#yandere dc#black tumblr
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Mae I feel like we always see the boys doting on reader and I love it! But also I would love a lil fic where may be James or Sirius gets sick or injured and it's reader just taking care of him and being so cautious and loving and doting on him
Thanks for requesting!
cw: modern au, MCL injury, James is not good at recovery
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 912 words
Your senses prickle at a sound from the sitting room.
“James,” you call warily, hands stilling in the dishwater.
“Yes, my angel?”
“Are you sitting down?”
A brief silence.
“I found some exercises—”
“James.” You round the corner to the sitting room to find your boyfriend lying on the floor, looking up at you with eyes big and guileless. You wipe your wet hands on your jeans. “You’re only supposed to be icing it,” you sigh.
“There’s no harm in getting an early start on recovery, right?” He grins his lopsided grin, hopelessly endearing. “I found some exercises online and the website says I can start right away. They’re very gentle.”
“I don’t think the website knows more about your knee than your team’s PT, lovely,” you say, kneeling beside him. You soothe your fingertips over the velcro edge of his brace.
James gets injured fairly often playing rugby. That’s no new thing to either of you, but he’s not used to needing to take such a long break after an injury. He tore a ligament in his knee during a match last week—you don’t remember the exact name of the ligament, but the word collateral had seared itself into your brain, recognizable and frightening—and apparently that is one of the few things the team’s PT requires players to actually take a substantial leave for. James is due to start recovery therapy in a few days, but for now he’s only meant to be resting and icing the injury. He is not taking it well.
“You could make it worse by doing more than you’re supposed to,” you tell him gently, stroking his calf below the brace. “Don’t, okay? I really don’t like seeing you hurt.”
James’ expression softens. He sits up, giving you a nice kiss. “I’m okay, sweetheart.”
“Don’t make it worse,” you say again.
“Okay. I won’t.”
“Thank you.” You kiss him in return, stroking the hair that curls by his ears. “Will you come sit back on the couch, please? Where are your crutches?”
James makes a low sound, caught anew. “Upstairs.”
“You didn’t even bring them down?”
“I get along just fine without them,” he says, pecking your chin placatingly. “Don’t worry.”
You sigh and coil his curl around your finger. James gives you a smile, sweet and hopeful. Don’t be mad, it begs you.
Your lips turn up a bit in response as you stand and reach your hands down to him. “Come on, then.”
James lets you help him back over to the couch. He flops down onto the cushions dejectedly, taking the ice pack when you give it to him and holding it to his knee. Sympathy swells in your ribcage.
“I’m sorry,” you say. “I know you’re bored.”
“It’s not your fault that it’s boring. I just wish I could do things I want to, like usual.” He tries on a grin for your benefit, a poor approximation of the real thing. “I know it won’t be for long.”
You chew the inside of your lip. You know you have to get back to the dishes, but you can’t stand to leave him like this even to go to the next room.
“What would you do, if your knee was like normal?”
James’ grin turns wry. “I’d go to training.”
“Okay, right.” You roll your eyes, leaning your hip against the side of the couch. “But while you were at training, all hot and tired and stuff, what would you be wishing you were doing instead?”
James lifts his eyebrows, contemplative. His gaze moves to you. “I suppose,” he says, “I’d be wishing I was here with you.”
Your heart warms. “What would we be doing?”
He grins.
“You’re not cleared for that, either,” you say quickly, laughing.
“Fine, fine.” He feigns annoyance, but his smile gives him away. “In that case, I’d settle for a film and a good cuddle.”
You nod, stepping closer to the couch. “I can do that,” you say. “I don’t know how good it’ll be, but…”
“Oh, you haven’t got anything to worry about there, angel.” James takes your hip once you’re close enough, tugging you down beside him. You’re careful not to fall too close to his injured leg. “You’ve got an excellent track record.”
“Do I?”
He hums, kissing you.
“I’m not hurting you, sitting here?”
“You’re perfect,” he assures you. He gives your hip another tug to bring you closer. “Get comfortable, I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
You do as he says, still cautious as you cozy up to his side, encouraging him to lean into you. James rewards you by nuzzling his face into the side of yours, happy as a clam. His voice softens as he drops it to a more genuine register.
“I’m not keeping you from anything,” he asks, “am I?”
You shake your head. “The dishes can wait. I’d rather be with you.”
“Christ, lovie. I can still do dishes.”
“You’re supposed to be resting!”
James makes an amused huffing sound. “Okay, new deal. After the film, I’ll go do the dishes while you handle the more laborious task of laundry or something. Sound fair?”
When you’re silent, he laughs.
“You can’t force me to sit on this couch forever! I’ll atrophy!”
“Maybe we can see how you feel after the film.”
“You’re ridiculous.” He stamps a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll sneak and do the dishes in the night if I have to.”
“You will not.”
#james potter#rugby!james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter hurt/comfort#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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Today marks 30 years since the beginning of Srebrenica genocide when from 11th July 1995 until the end of the month 8372 men and boys were brutally murdered, buried, unburied, moved, buried again and moved to the tertiary mass graves by the Serb nationalists after the UN soldiers let them walk in into the "safe zone" they were "protecting" full of refugees. Around 15000 men didn't want to wait to be executed embarking on a 100km long ourney through the forests to get to the nearest unocupied area. 8372 were slaughtered.
Today 7 victims will be buried, one of the victims will have only 2 jaw bones laid down in the ground because those 2 bones are the only bones that have been found. Many mothers, sisters, daughters, are still searching, hoping for even one bone to be found.
As some perpetrators rot away in prison serving life sentences, and Srebrenica remains the worst wound in post-WW2 history, as genocide denial keeps coming from certains politicians both in Bosnia and Serbia and denial is a participation in that genocide, and as UN keeps apologizing every year for their failure to protect the people, as thousands survivors, children of the murdered, and people from all around the world gather every year to take a walk through those very forests, walking those same paths to honor the victims on a Peace march, and thousands gather on 11th July in Potočari to honor the victims, I can't help but think how in 30 years the reality of mothers of Srebrenica will also be the reality of people of Gaza.
So please, read about what happened in Srebrenica (it has to be undrestood in the broader context of Bosnian genocide) and try to help in any way you can to the people of Gaza today. The youngest victim in Srebrenica was just a few hours old. We have been watching the same events unfold in Gaza for too long now. Srebrenica massacre wasn't silent either, Europe just didn't want to hear it.
Here is the web page of the Memorial Center where you can read about the timeline of the events in July 1995, about the aftermath, investigations and the trials of the perpetrators.
United Nations also have a page dedicated which is almost a joke considering they abandoned those people... where you can find some useful videos and a very comprehensive timeline of the events with videos from July 1995 and from the trials in Hague.
Another useful website where I recomend reading survivors' stories
Some documentaries are available on youtube, please watch at least the first one: 1 2 3
Last year UN finally adopted a Resultion on Srebrenica Genocide. On the table before, it did not pass because of Russia's veto. Controversial president of Serbia who is fighting tooth and nail to supress students and the whole country really rising against him (as they should) argued and keeps telling his people that the text is calling out their entire nation as being genocidal. It is not. It is directed at those who did commit genocide, but the denial of the text and offense of people in Serbia starting with their politicians can be read as a denial and therefore participation in the genocide. I hope the students protesting the regime, young people like me, are willing to move forward in peace understanding that no one is blaming them for anything but that it is their burden to learn and it is their burden to break out of the spiral of evil and crime of the regime.
Here is what NY Times wrote today, 30 years later.
Finally, every year Srebrenica Inferno is performed at Potočari. Even if the text is in Bosnian language I believe the chilling pain will still reach you. Here is a performance from 2023
Once again, I hope everyone can find a way to think and help the people of Gaza because this will be their reality in 30 years. It is their reality now. It's fascinating that we, meaning human species, haven't yet learned that you can't make a nation on the backs and suffering of another. You can't build a happy future with the blood of thousands.
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Hello! Ive been binging poly!141 and I keep coming back to your writing for my fix (because by now its basically an addiction😅)
I had this idea that the 141 are together with a civilian reader. And civilian reader works in retail, part time, and is mostly at home. Normally, they would be home by the time their boys came home, welcoming them with open arms, a hot plate of food, and time to rest and relax. But this time, the 141 get home early and realize where reader works: Walmart (or equivalent). Reader has been keeping this a secret cause they know its not cute like a coffee shop or cool. Its just their job. And now the most important men in their life know. Im thinking the 141 found out because they went grocery shopping and happened to come across reader or something similar to that.
I work at Walmart and it sucks🥲 thought that maybe something like this might help😅
Tysm, nonny! So happy to hear you like the writing. I hope this does your idea justice. (Walmart doesn't have stores in the UK, but they own ASDA.)
Also, thank you for my first request! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
pure fluff, bad accents (per usual)
Your boys find out you work part-time at ASDA on a random rainy Thursday in March.
You don't really need a job. All four of your lovers are officers with the British army. Prior to you, they all lived in base barracks. Prior to you, they lived fairly Spartan existences. Prior to you, most of their income sat in the bank, quietly accumulating.
They have plenty of money saved up that they love using to spoil you, when you let them. You know that if you asked, they'd give you everything, but you draw the line about asking them for an allowance like some tradwife. You want some pocket money of your own. Thus, the part-time job at the ASDA in town.
You're a people person, good at handling big personalities. You need to be to keep up with your boys. Between John's need for control, Simon's stoic dominance, Johnny's aggressive enthusiasm, and Kyle's blinding charisma, you aren't some shrinking violet. Within a week of your hire, your manager watches how you weather a nasty piece of work trying to demand concessions you aren't permitted to give and immediately puts you in customer service.
You're nearly unflappable in the face of frustrated pensioners and harried parents and entitled young professionals. Over and over, you're the one they call when a customer is going spare. Which is how your boys find out about your job.
They've been deployed for over two weeks, and you have no idea when they'll return. John had originally said they'd be gone for at least a month, so you aren't expecting them home any time soon. However, they'd come home much earlier than anyone thought, and they wanted to surprise you.
You're always so good about making the house feel like a home, with your bright smile and warm laughter, your home cooked food and soft touches in decor. You make them feel like people, not weapons, and they want to return the favor. This last deployment had been hard, and all four of your boys were missing your sweet voice and tender care. They wanted to show you that they loved and cared for you the way you always showed your love and care for them.
It was Johnny's suggestion to prep a meal for you as both a surprise and a thank you. After debrief, they pile into the car and decide to stop at ASDA for everything they need before heading home to surprise you. It's John who causes the code call.
You hear Susan's voice over the store-wide address system. "We could use a little Sunshine in the floral department." That's your cue. You finish with the pensioner at your till as Jacob, your manager, comes over to relieve you.
You take a deep breath and square your shoulders. In your experience, a Sunshine call in floral is a man angry the store doesn't have the fancy arrangements listed on the website. You wish the signage on the site would be more clear that the beautiful bouquets are online orders only. It would save you having to explain why the offers in store are so limited.
You hear him before you see him, smokey voice grumbling, "But if they show the bloody thing on the site as available, you should have it hear." You'd recognize the voice anywhere. He's not angry, not really, but Susan doesn't know that. Add in the sheer size of him, and Simon looming over his shoulder, it's no wonder she called for support.
You have never wanted to walk away from a situation as much as you want to right now, but before you can make an escape, Susan notices you over John's shoulder. Her little wave is enough for your men to notice, and they turn as one to see you coming towards them. Immediately their demeanor shifts. Simon's back sags as though his strings were cut, leaving him loose-limbed. John stands a little straighter, chin up as if to impress you. They've both broken out in smiles, though Simon's are only evidenced by the laugh lines you know to look for. It's only as you get close do they zero in on the badge on your shirt.
"I've got this, Susan," you say to your co-worker. "Jacob's on my till. Can you cover?"
Susan wrings her hands. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay and-"
"They're nothing I can't handle," you tell her, cutting off her worried rambles. There's a cheeky glint in your eye as you flick your gaze at your men. You clap your hands together and say, "Right, let's get this settled, then."
Susan takes one quick look between you and the now slightly less intimidating men and heads towards the front of the store.
Once she's out of earshot, John's face breaks into a frown. "What're you doing here, love?" He glances at your name on your chest again. "You work here?" He sounds almost hurt by the revelation. You can tell Simon wants to reach for you, and the only thing stopping him is you working.
You hear heavy footfalls behind you as Johnny's Scottish lilt reaches your ears. "Och, Cap! Ye said ye'd only be a moment. Gaz and I had a hell of a time getting the trolley on its lift ta find ye. How hard is it to buy bon..." His question dies on his lips as you turn around. "Bonnie?" He, too, sounds hurt to find you working here.
You can see Kyle over Johnny's shoulder, confusion written across his features. This is not how you wanted your boys to find out about your job, if you ever wanted them to actually find out. You thought maybe you'd surprise them with tickets to Hereford FC's opening game in a few months. And if they asked how you afforded them, you could handle this conversation then, but it's out of your hands now.
And as much as you don't want to have this conversation, especially not in the middle of the floral department, you can't stop the wide grin at seeing your boys again, home and whole.
"Hi, boys," you say, opening your arms. Disappointed he might be about finding you here, Johnny's no fool. He immediately steps into your embrace, and the others quickly follow suit. You're swallowed up by the smell and feel of them. The hug lasts one minute. Then two. Then they all slowly step back.
You can see the questions and cut them off before they get started. "I have another three hours before I'm off. We can talk at home, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."
John nods first. He recognizes your tone. You won't let them derail you for answers now, and they would be wasting their breath to try. "You heard the lady, lads. Let's get home."
They start to walk away when you tease, "Captain? Was there a reason you were arguing with Susan about the flowers?"
He halts his steps and turns to you, flush creeping up his neck. He brings his hand up to rub it as he says, "Er, I, we, wanted to get ya something nice, but they don't have the same ones as online."
You melt a little, watching the way your men shift nervously behind their captain. You smile softly and reach over, plucking a bouquet of rainbow poms from the rack. "These are what I usually get for myself when you're away."
John takes them gently from your hand and passes them to Gaz to put in the trolley. "We'll see you at home, love," he murmurs, leaning over briefly to kiss your cheek. Simon kisses the top of your head, fabric brushing your hair. Johnny pulls you in for another bruising hug and kisses your other cheek. Gaz puts his hands on your waist, drinking in the sight of you, before taking your hands in his and kissing your palms.
You watch them leave, wondering how you'll make it through the rest of your shift.
Three hours and fifteen minutes later, you cross the threshold of your shared home to the most delicious scents wafting from the kitchen. After slipping your shoes off next to the piles of boots at the door, you follow your nose back to the kitchen and the spread laid out on the large wood-topped island. There's a roast and mushy peas and mashed potatoes and stewed carrots and battered cod and crisps and spinach all surrounding the flowers you'd suggested, nestled in the vase you love most, the Caithness one Johnny'd bought you on your first trip with them to Scotland.
At the table, your men sit, plates made for everyone, waiting on you. They've changed since you saw them. Gone are any traces of fatigues and tactical gear. Instead they're all in casual civvies, truly home for the first time in nearly three weeks. Simon stands as you come in and pulls out your chair, smile on his scarred lips. "Come sit, doll," he tells you, not quite an order.
You look quickly around. "Let me change," you say, tugging at your uniform top. "I won't be but a minute." You back out of the room before they can stop you. You hurry to your bedroom, pulling your top off as you go. Once behind the door, you slip from your trousers into comfortable leggings and a large jumper, one of Kyle's you think.
By the time you make it back to the kitchen, your men are more than a little antsy. Simon's smile is a little strained, Johnny is fidgeting, Kyle keeps glancing between you and John, and John is staring at you. Your chair is still out. He waves a hand at it, and gently says, "Come sit, love." It's couched as request, but you know a command from your lover when you hear it.
You take your seat at the table. "Listen-" you start, but John cuts you off.
"Are we not providing for ya, love?" You see the hurt in his eyes, how much it bothers him to think he, they, aren't doing enough for you.
"Oh, John, dear, no!" you reply, putting your hand over his on the table. "It's not that at all."
"Then what?" Simon asks.
You look at them all, the expectant faces waiting to hear how they failed you. "I get restless sometimes. I love you, and I love our life. I'm happy to take care of the house and make sure you're all fed after a long day. But I wasn't built for sitting around doing nothing. I like people; being home on my own all day can get lonely. Especially when you're deployed. I also like having my own pocket money."
John opens his mouth, and you know what he's about to say, so you continue. "I know you'd give me any money I need or want, but I like having my money. Money I earned myself." You look around at them, willing them to understand. "It's only part time. Helps me keep a little busy and have a little extra to spoil you and me with."
Johnny is frowning, but you see Kyle, head cocked, looking at you as a puzzle. "I think I understand," he says softly. "You were making you way just fine before us, and you gave up everything for us."
At his words, the crease between John's brow deepens, and you're sure he's remembering the job you had, that you'd somewhat enjoyed, when you'd first met them. You'd been working at RAF Lakenheath, living in a cozy flat in Cambridge, near The Backs, when the 141 had been coming through the base after an op. An injury had put Kyle in the med center for a week, and while he could have been transported to Hereford once stable, Laswell had worked it out for the whole team to have some R&R near the base.
You'd quite literally run into John one day, rushing to your office, after which he suggested lunch as an apology. You quickly became close with all four, smitten with them from the start. In turn, they fell hard for you. They wooed you over the course of several weeks, stopping through Lakenheath on deployments to spend some time with you. Six months in and you were completely gone on all four of them, so when they'd asked you to move to Hereford, you did without ever looking back. But it meant giving up the life you'd led.
Somewhere along the way, your happiness overshadowed all you'd left behind. After a few weeks, being home alone while your men worked started to feel isolating. You liked being a little busy, and there weren't enough projects around the house to keep you busy enough. You'd always been independent, but you didn't want to be stuck in a job with long hours anymore. You wanted to be home for your men. So you'd found the job at ASDA.
Kyle reaches over to where you hand is still on John's. "I'm sorry we didn't ask how you were coping us being gone all day," he says. He looks you in the eye as he continues. "I understand wanting to do something, wanting to be a little busy, and if this makes you happy, then I'm all for it, doll." He gives you a small smile and squeezes your and John's hand.
"Gaz is right," Simon rumbles. "We were so happy to have you here we didn't think about what you did all alone all day." He puts a heavy hand on your thigh, the warmth of him seeping through your thin leggings. "'m glad you have something to keep you from getting lonely."
"Sorry, hen," Johnny murmurs, just above a whisper. "We didnae think a' ye enough." You smile widely at him.
"Johnny, you think of me all the time. This isn't about neglect at all!" You try to catch his eye, but he's looking hard at the table in front of him. "You did nothing wrong, love," you tell him gently.
He looks at you, blue eyes bright. "Ye sure?" You've never seen him this nervous before, and you break a little.
"I'm sure love."
He smiles then, a little smile, but it brightens his face and shifts the mood in the room. You look at John who's been surprisingly quiet this whole time.
He's smiling, but it's a little sad. "I know ya said we didn't do anything wrong, but we feel like we did. We didn't notice you were bored, didn't ask if you were lonely." He flips his hand over under yours and threads your fingers with his. "Yer giving us a gift by not blaming us, and we'd be stupid not to take it, even though it feels like yer giving us an out. Thank you." He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly.
"Thank you. I was worried you'd be mad," you admit.
"Never could make us mad with something like this, hen," Johnny reassures you. "I'm sorry we had to spoil your day is all."
You turn back to look at the food on the island. "You didn't spoil my day. You made it. You're home early, and you made such a lovely spread. I think we should tuck in, yeah?"
Simon chuckles. "Point made, doll," he says, scooping a heaping helping of mash onto his fork. The rest take it as a sign to start eating too.
The room is silent save for the sounds of food savored until John pipes up, "Why'd ya come to florals, love? We might have missed ya altogether if not for that."
You giggle. "The sunshine call, John."
"Yeah?" He clearly doesn't understand.
"It's the shop call for a difficult customer. When I'm on shift, it's my job to handle those." You look at each of your lovers in turn. "Seems I've got a knack for dealing with muppets," you tell them with a smirk.
main masterlist
#nerdygirl answers#cod#poly!141#poly!141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#kyle garrick#johnny mactavish#john price#simon riley#nerdygirl says
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─── YOU'VE GOT MAIL .ᐟ


...or reader going to a football game.
★ pairing.ᐟ frat!rafe x nerd!reader
★ summary.ᐟ rafe cameron is the golden boy of kildare university; certified frat boy, captain of the football team, relentless party animal with lines of girls to sleep with.
reader couldn't be more different; while she has the best grades in the whole school, she suffers from social anxiety disorder, and her social life is limited to her three best friends and the cat she secretly snuck into her dorm room.
both of them decide to join the anonymous chatroom for their campus, and start talking to one another, a friendship starting to form between the two; but neither of them know how different the other is.
★ author's note.ᐟ and we’re back!! hi hi hi. sorry for no new part last week, i was busy as hell. ANYWAY we’re finally meeting reader’s friends !! also guess who managed to finish three different fics today… whew.
YOU'VE GOT MAIL!
for the next two weeks, not a day went by that you didn't talk to MalachiConstant; the screen time on your phone almost having doubled. most of the time it was just surface-level stuff; talking about your days, about your interests... but at night, it... changed. it became genuine. real. like you were sitting under the stars together, talking about things that actually mattered.
MalachiConstant: y'know MalachiConstant: sometimes i kinda worry that i'm disappointing everyone around me
YOU: how come?
MalachiConstant: idk MalachiConstant: i feel like i'm fucking shit up all the time MalachiConstant: like i'm a screw up and disappoint everyone
YOU: well, i don't know if it helps, but.. YOU: you haven't disappointed me :).
MalachiConstant: knocking on wood
now, you were sitting with your friends at lunch, occasionally glancing down at your phone screen as if beckoning for the stranger to message you, your lips pursed in thought as the group around you kept chatting, wondering why the boy hadn't texted you all day.
"hey, everything okay?" one of your friends, zainab, asked, looking at you with widened eyes, startling you out of your little reverie. you turned to the girl sitting next to you, feigning a small smile, "yeah, everything's okay."
"she's being ghoooosteed." vivian teased you, causing you to roll your eyes.
"ghosted? by who?" emilia asked with excitement, vivian's statement clearly having piqued both her and zainab's interest.
"it's no one."
"she's lying." vivian grinned, drinking some of her iced latte, "she met someone on that website i recommended. kildareuchats. she told me they've been talking for a few weeks now."
"viv, i told you not to say anything." you groaned, hiding your face in your hand, feeling your cheeks warming up, your next words coming out in an awkward mutter, "only reason i told you was because you saw me text him in the first place..."
"whatever. the important thing is," vivian grinned widely, "our friend here thinks that he's a member of the football team."
"how do you figure that?" zainab asked, and you threw your hands up in slight frustration, "well, i don't know it for sure!" you said, "but he keeps talking about how he has practice, and... he does know a lot about football."
"hot. you're e-dating a football player. who would've thought?" emilia snorted, making you throw a singular fry her way. "i'm pretty sure they have a game tonight."
"oooh, we should go support your boyfriend." zainab squeezed your shoulder and you could feel your face turn warm with embarrassment, "we're not going. and he's not my boyfriend..."
"i can't believe i let you three talk me into this..." you grumbled under your breath, pulling your coat closer to your body, feeling the chilly autumn air in your bones as you sat on the bleachers, watching the game you understood nothing about; when you were younger, your father tried to get you into sports, but most of the time you simply snuck in a book so you wouldn't actually have to focus on it.
"don't try to play pretend." vivian nudged your shoulder and drank out of her slushie, "we all know you're dying to see your cyber-boyfriend."
"again, he's not my boyfriend."
"but you wish he was. bet you've already made him in the sims, and you two have a brood of pixel-kids."
"i don't even know what he looks like."
"well, if it is someone from the football team, he's gotta be at least semi-attractive. have you seen their group picture?" emilia snorted, "everyone is somewhere between seven and ten."
"it's definitely not thornton." vivian snorted, "dude has the emotional capacity of a slinky."
"viv, you do know that that's a dig on yourself?" you raised your brows, "don't think any of us forgot what happened between you two."
"jokes on you." the pink-haired girl stuck her tongue out at you, "i've already forgotten all about it."
"that's what happens when you spike your slushie with vodka."
"don't act like you could focus on this shit sober. besides, this is not about who i've slept with. this is about who you're dying to sleep with." vivian winked and took another sip of her slushie.
"well," you pursed your lips in thought, "he's in a fraternity."'
"that does narrow it a little bit..." zainab mumbled, "maybe maybank? i mean, you did have a crush on him for like, the entirety of freshman year."
"it wasn't a crush!" you held your hands up, "it was... a mere fascination. he had nice hair."
"ah, yes. you were having wet dreams about his hair." vivian snorted, and you smacked her forearm, pursing your lips into a pout as you looked at the field, "how about... mason? he's got that whole broody, mysterious smart guy vibe going for him. he definitely reads vonnegut."
"dodge is a pretty valid option. though, i don't know if chatrooms are his style." emilia tsked, "what about the captain? cameron?"
that suggestion caused vivian to snort and smack the other girl's shoulder, "rafe cameron? yeah, he definitely isn't the type to do that. i think his longest relationship was when a girl accidentally fell asleep in his bed after they hooked up, and he was too drunk to kick her out."
your eyes went to number 9, the name 'cameron' written above his number, making you shake your head and look away before you spoke quietly, "this is stupid. i don't need to know who he is. i don't want to know who he is." vivian wrapped her arm around your shoulder, tugging you close in a comforting gesture; you knew there was truth to your words, but you also knew that the reason you didn't want to know the identity of MalachiConstant was that you knew he'd be disappointed to know who you truly are. to know, that the girl he'd called witty and funny several times actually couldn't tell a joke without stuttering.
after the football game ended with your team winning, the four of you were making your way away from the field, only to hear someone calling out behind you
"viv! vivian, wait up!"
you turned your head to look at who was so eager to talk to your friend, a small snort leaving your lips, nudging vivian's side, "viv, it's your slinky." your friend looked at you with furrowed brows, following your line of sight to topper, the girl letting out an exasperated groan, "is it too late to hide?"
"hey, viv." topper gave the girl a lopsided grin that he surely thought was charming, his face slightly red from the game, "you came."
"most of the school came." vivian gave the boy a narrow, feigned smile before taking another slurp out of her slushie, "whatcha want, thornton?"
"well," the blonde scratched the back of his head while emilia, zainab and you grinned at one another, a strange contrast to the unamused expression on the pink-haired girl's face, "we're having a party, at our frat house. you should come if you feel like it."
"i'll think about it."
"you can bring your friends." topper glanced at the three of you briefly before his focus was fully on vivian once again, "hope to see you there."
"maybe." vivian said, turning around and continuing to walk away, the three of you following behind her, trying your best to control your laughter, "don't say a thing." she warned.
"come on, you've gotta come with me." vivian pouted, spinning around in your office chair, "i can't go alone, z doesn't do parties and em has an essay to finish."
"you know i don't do parties either." you mumbled, absentmindedly stroking angel's soft fur while shopping online for a birthday gift for vivian, "i think i'd suffer a stroke if i even tried to go to a frat party, of all things."
"please! i can't go alone, because then i'll end up hooking up with topper again."
"then just don't go."
"but then i'll have fomo! you know i love parties, i live for-"
YOU HAVE RECEIVED A MESSAGE ON KILDAREUCHATS FROM MalachiConstant. CLICK HERE TO OPEN.
you tuned out everything vivian was saying, instantly clicking the pop-up.
MalachiConstant: whatcha up to?
YOU: nothing much. YOU: trying to stop this annoying wasp from buzzing in my ear
MalachiConstant: a... wasp?
YOU: my friend. YOU: she's trying to get me to go to a party with her. YOU: it's essentially a babysitting gig, though.
MalachiConstant: one party won't hurt you MalachiConstant: wallflower
YOU: how do you know? YOU: what if i have a stroke the moment i step foot into that place?
MalachiConstant: c'mon MalachiConstant: what do you have to lose?
YOU: my dignity.
MalachiConstant: ah, yes. the dignified grandma. MalachiConstant: hey, if the party sucks you can just stand in some corner and send me messages MalachiConstant: might not answer immediately cause i also have a party
YOU: oooh, another frat party?
MalachiConstant: you know me so well MalachiConstant: i dare you to go, poe girl
YOU: this isn't elementary school.
MalachiConstant: i triple-dog dare you
you pursed your lips in thought, looking to vivian and narrowing your eyes at the girl, a pleading look on her face. you groaned, shaking your head in defeat and rolling your eyes, "fine, i'll come with you. but i have nothing to wear."
"don't worry." vivian jumped up from her seat with a victorious smile, ruffling your hair, "you're lucky i'm your fairy slut-mother. with piles and piles of slutty dresses and skirts. i'll go get us something to wear!"
you watched as the girl made her way out of your dorm, her long hair bouncing along with her "nothing too slutty!" you called out after her, before turning back to your computer.
YOU: if i die, i'm blaming you.
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Lessons
Length: +7k words
Genre: Smut
IVE Gaeul x Male Reader
(Author's Note: Thank you to the buyer for purchasing this commission, and thank you to @msafterhours for beta reading! If you are interested in purchasing a commission from me or simply want to leave a little tip, head on over to my ko-fi page!)
【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】
“Ugh, this is so fucking annoying!” Gaeul groans, slamming her fist against the table, the clattering of silverware echoing throughout the apartment. Wonyoung, used to her sudden bursts of anger, doesn’t even look up from her phone. “I already told that old guy from SBS that I’m not interested, yet he keeps spamming my messages!”
“Why did you give him your number in the first place if you’re not interested?” Wonyoung inquires.
Gaeul’s cheeks turn a bright red, her gaze falling nervously to the side. “...You know why.”
“Because you’re horny?” Wonyoung posits, raising her brow.
The older girl’s face falls into her hands in misery, emitting a deep guttural groan that carries the weight of her dissatisfaction. “This is so unfair, how did you guys find boyfriends and I have to slog through all these gross older men and obnoxious boy group members?” Gaeul glances at her with a pout on her lips. “Am I ugly or something?”
Wonyoung sighs, gently holding her groupmate’s hand from across the table. “Of course you’re not ugly, you’re just… unlucky.” Gaeul faceplants into the table, her muffled whimpers eliciting sympathy from the younger girl. “Look, why don’t you just ask out our manager already? I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
Gaeul’s face shoots up, tomato red with panic. “W-what are you talking about!? That’s our manager, that’s w-weird!”
Wonyoung scoffs. “And you think touching yourself while moaning his name isn’t weird?”
“H-how did y-”
“These walls are paper thin, just because you play ocean noises in the background doesn’t mean we can’t hear you.”
Gaeul sinks into her chair, covering her face in embarrassment. With a sigh, Wonyoung pulls up a website on her phone and slides it across the table. “Here, a bunch of my friends used this website when they were in your position and they all managed to find a boyfriend within a week.”
The older girl scans the phone, immediately grimacing at the shoddy nature of the website. Aside from an embedded video in the middle of the site and a measly drop down menu titled “Lessons”, it’s essentially barebones. All the text is in Comic Sans for some god awful reason, and whatever moron made this sorry excuse for a website decided to use bright orange over pink. It’s like wrapping a terrible gift in even uglier wrapping paper.
“Wonyoung, this is… grim,” she mutters.
Wonyoung shrugs. “The results speak for themselves.” She takes her phone back and walks towards her room at the end of the hallway. “You better watch those videos. You’re already ruining my beauty sleep, I won’t let you ruin beaches for me too,” she calls out, her bedroom door slamming behind her.
Gaeul leans her head against her palm, contemplating her options. She could ignore Wonyoung’s advice and continue to foolishly look around for dick until her standards drop so low that she ends up sleeping with — God forbid — some washed up 2nd gen idol, or she could learn a thing or two from that hideous website and ask out her hot manager, potentially making things awkward between them for the rest of her career.
She barely has to think about it before pulling out her phone, pulling up the website in mere seconds. With a deep breath, she presses play on the first video.
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 1: HOW TO GET A MAN
Being the manager of one of the biggest girl groups in the world leaves you with little energy and even less free time. At first, it was fun. When IVE first debuted, they were nervous yet excited about finally achieving the dreams they’ve worked so hard for, and you wanted to help them out anyway you could, becoming a strong pillar that they can rely on.
However, after a couple years of idol experience under their belt combined with their very quick rise to stardom, the job that you once loved turned into a complete nightmare, which only worsened once the girls found partners. Just last week, you had to wrestle a camera away from a Dispatch worker after he took photos of Rei sucking off her boyfriend in the middle of a park—all of this at 3 fucking AM. To add salt to the wound, instead of being commended for preventing a potential PR disaster, you got chewed out by your supervisor for not managing them well enough. Sure, let’s ignore the million other times you’ve warned them about doing stupid things in public that they keep ignoring.
At least not all of them are a handful to deal with since Gaeul doesn’t have a boyfr-
*Ring Ring*
Speak of the devil. You answer your phone.
“Hey Gaeul, what’s up?”
“H-hi, um…” She clears her throat, her nervousness putting you on edge.
“Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?”
“N-no, it’s nothing like that! It’s just, uh… Are you busy tomorrow?”
You scan your desk, cluttered with a messy pile of paperwork. Even at your most productive, it’ll take you the entire week to get through everything alongside the plethora of meetings you’ll have to attend. “Yeah, I’ll probably be busy tomorrow, why?”
“Oh, um… How about Saturday?”
“Gaeul, what is this about?”
“Just…!” She sighs audibly in frustration. “Yes or no?”
Rolling your eyes, you take a quick glance at your calendar. Aside from a note that says “buy groceries”, it seems like your entire weekend is free. “Yes, I’m free on Saturday. What is this-”
“Great! I’ll text you an address. Be there at 5pm sharp. Bye!”
“Wai-”
Gaeul hangs up before you can utter another word, leaving you to wonder what all of this is about and why she sounded so nervous over the phone. Your mind runs through all the potential scenarios this could be. As far as you know, there aren’t any events Ive are performing at and filming for their YouTube show doesn’t start until next week. Could this be a prank the girls are pulling on you?
Even as you look up the address she sent you, all you're left with is more questions than answers.
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 2: HOW TO ACT PROPER ON A DATE
Saturday rolls around after another particularly difficult week of running around protecting IVE’s image. If you’re being honest, you fully expected to pass away from stress alone after Yujin and Liz nearly got caught having a foursome in someone’s pool by Dispatch yet again. At the very least, this photographer didn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as the last one.
As you travel to the far side of the city and stroll up to the fancy restaurant Gaeul all but forced you to come to, you silently pray that this isn’t some weird way of her announcing her new relationship to you. You enter the restaurant, almost immediately receiving a glare of disdain from the host as he scans your casual outfit of a T-shirt and jeans, unbefitting of the atmosphere.
“I’m sorry sir, but we have a strict dress code and we unfortunately cannot seat you with your current outfit,” he says, flashing a condescending smile.
“Actually, sorry if this is weird, but is a woman named Gaeul here?” you ask, ignoring his poor attitude.
He looks down at his podium, scanning through some papers before his expression suddenly shifts into something more genial. “Ah, of course! Right this way, sir.” He leads you down a side hallway that’s hidden away from the main seating area, and brings you to one of many doors. “Ms. Gaeul is right in this room, sir.”
You open the door, your jaw hitting the floor in awe as you scan the intricate decorations that adorn the room. A golden chandelier hangs overhead, illuminating everything in a warm glow, while beautifully realistic paintings of fruit bowls and flower vases hang on the walls. In the center of the room sits a table, draped with a red silk cloth and topped with lit candles that set a sort of romantic mood. Gaeul sits on one end, sporting a black strapless dress that shows off her milky skin and thin figure.
“Hi!” She says, walking to you with outstretched arms. “I’m so glad you could make it!”
“Hey— o-oh.” You flinch in surprise as she pulls you into a warm embrace, instinctually slotting your arm around her delicate waist. It’s the first hug you’ve shared with one of the members, and your discomfort quickly fades as you sink into her.
“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable,” she says. You sit across from her, your eyes darting around the room, overwhelmed by the ambience. “You like the view?”
“Yeah, this place is pretty cool, but why did you want me to come here?”
“To surprise you of course!”
Just then, a procession of servers files through the door, carrying silver platters full of food. With each dish they place, you salivate more and more, your stomach rumbling intensely. By the time the last dish is set, the entire table is filled with various dishes of different smells, colors, and textures, none of it discernible but all of it delicious. The final cherry on top is the bottle of expensive wine that the server pours into your glass. This is it. This is Heaven.
“Since you work so hard for us, I thought it would be fitting to treat you to a nice meal,” Gaeul explains, smiling at you. “You deserve it.
“W-wow, this is just… thank you so much, Gaeul,” You say, still scanning the food in front of you. “I wish you would’ve told me to wear something nicer though. That guy at the front side-eyed me the second I walked in.”
“It’s okay, I think you look sexy in anything you wear,” she giggles, cutting her laughter short with a bite of her lip. For a split second, you swear your heart skips a beat.
Blush grows on your cheeks, taken aback by her sudden compliment. “O-oh, uh, thanks. You look, um, very nice too.”
“Just nice?” She pouts cutely. “I got all dressed up for you and that’s all you’re gonna say?”
The heat in your face deepens as you nervously avert your gaze. You compliment the girls all the time, why do you suddenly feel weird about it now? “You look… very pretty, Gaeul.”
She grins warmly, satisfied by your answer. “Thank you. Now eat up! It’s all for you.”
You spend the next few minutes in pure bliss trying out every single dish, each bite better than the last. Sweet, savory, bitter, earthy, flavor combinations you never even knew existed dance around on your taste buds; pair that with the rich taste of the wine and suddenly, you’re floating on cloud nine.
“How’s the food?” She asks. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Of course I am,” you say, grinning at her. “I’m eating delicious food and drinking expensive wine with a beautiful girl.”
“Oh?” Her brow raises with intrigue, a smirk playing on her glossy lips. “Beautiful? I thought you said I was just pretty?”
“I-I mean yeah, the entire world thinks you’re beautiful,” you stutter, trying to keep your inhibitions in check, a task that’s becoming increasingly difficult with the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed.
“Okay, but what do you think?” Gaeul leans in like a predator backing up its prey into a corner, her light-hearted tone dropping to reveal something more sultry.
You gulp, beads of sweat forming on your head. “W-well, I think you’re a great performer and-”
“That’s not what I meant,” she states, staring intently at you. “Have you ever thought about me? Imagining what you would do to me if we were all alone with no one to bother us, just me and you?” She brings her spoon to her lips, giving it a slow, sensuous lick without ever breaking eye contact.
You shiver as her tongue dances across the silver, desperately wishing it was you instead of the damn spoon. You shouldn’t be having these impure thoughts—though you’d be lying if you said this is the first time you’ve looked at Gaeul this way. You’re her manager, Starship will toss you out in an instant if they suspect that you took the job just to get with the idols. But it’s so hard to think properly with the alcohol flowing through your system and the tightening in your pants.
Tell her no. Stop her advances immediately before things get out of hand. Yet, you don’t object as Gaeul takes your hand, leading you out of the restaurant. The words start to meld together like goo, all you can make out is an utterance of a “good time” and how you’ve been such a “good boy”. You say a lot of things to her, probably—it’s hard to talk with her tongue shoved in your mouth—but as the taxi takes you to the familiar route towards her apartment, the only clear thought running through your head is how impossible it is to tell this girl “no”.
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 3: HOW TO PLEASURE A MAN
Gaeul tosses her phone on her bed, scoffing in disgust. After her conversation with Wonyoung last night, she binge watched the first two lessons, even jotting down notes to remember for later. As much as she would hate to admit it, the questionable looking website is an information goldmine for a desperate soul like hers, it’s a wonder how she hasn’t stumbled upon it before. However, her view of it immediately soured again after watching the third lesson.
“Act submissive? Let him do whatever he wants?” Gaeul questions, reiterating the points made in the video. “What kind of bullshit advice is this? If I’m gonna sleep with someone, I’m not trying to be their little fuck doll or whatever!”
She paces around her room, hands running through her hair over and over again as the thoughts bounce around her frustrated mind. What’s the point in doing all this work trying to get a boyfriend if it only amounts to his pleasure? What about her needs? Is she supposed to be happy being reduced to a glorified cum rag?
Fuck no. A sudden realization hits her like a bolt from the blue — She’s Gaeul from IVE. An icon in one of if not the most popular girl group in the world. Any man should feel lucky that she even gave them the time of day.
With a newfound determination, Gaeul picks up her phone, her finger hovering tentatively over the “Call” button on her manager’s contract. She’ll use what she learned in the first two videos for sure; she’s not dumb enough to completely disregard their teachings. But if—no, when things get to the bedroom, she’ll do things her own way.
______________________________________________________________
You and Gaeul stumble through the door of the dorm, lips, limbs, and fingers intertwined in a needy ball of lust. Don’t even bother making it to her room, half of your clothes are already off by the time you reach the living room. Palm her toned stomach, savor the taste of her lewd moans dancing off her tongue and onto yours, shiver as her nails graze against your skin. Do all the dirty things you’ve kept hidden in the back of your mind.
Gaeul breaks away, sitting back on the couch as she strips away the rest of her dress, leaving her in a matching set of black undergarments. She spreads her legs, inviting you to fill the space in between.
“Eat me out,” she commands, words unwavering even as the sheen of arousal coating her thighs tells you exactly how badly she needs this. You quickly oblige, practically diving face first into her sweet heat. Discard her soaked panties; to you, they’re just another obstacle keeping you from what you really want.
“Good boy~,” Gaeul moans as you attack her slit with your tongue. You alternate between long, slow licks to flicking your tongue furiously against her clit. She yanks at your hair, forcing you to take a whiff of her sex. Her scent is intoxicating. You don’t even feel the pain anymore, all you can think about is about pleasuring her gorgeous pussy.
“F-fuck yes, lick my pussy, you fucking perv!” she goads you on and you follow her every command like the dog that you are. Her slim thighs wrap around your head, forcing you deeper and deeper into her until it’s physically impossible for you to get any closer. Forget the alcohol, you’re getting drunker on the sweet nectar dripping from her hole.
Fuck her with your fingers as you lap at her clit with a hunger you’ve never felt before. Her guttural moans are like a siren song, drawing you into her. The way her face contorts with pleasure is so alluring. You thought she was attractive already, but fuck this is the kind of beauty that only you are lucky enough to see. No hounding fans, no Dispatch, just you and Gaeul.
She grabs your hair, pulling you away from her heat, much to your dismay. “Take your fucking cock out,” she commands before pushing you back onto the floor. You make quick work of your boxers, but before you can ask for a condom, Gaeul’s already climbing all over you, lining up your painfully erect cock with her slit.
“W-wait, Gaeul-”
She clasps her hand over your mouth, leering at you with a ravenous glare. “I’ve waited too long for this to use a damn condom. You’re just gonna have to pull out or I’m kicking your ass out into the streets, got it?”
You nod, both terrified and turned on by this new side of Gaeul. With her hand still covering your mouth, she slowly impales herself on your rod, her face silently contorting with each inch of you she takes. You move to grab her hips, but she swats your hand away.
“Absolutely fucking not, we’re doing this my way,” she growls at you. All you can do is submit as she fucks herself onto you at a selfishly slow pace like you’re nothing more than her personal dildo. Your hot breath flows through the miniscule gaps in between her fingers, not even giving you the luxury of a deep breath. You want to get angry, you want to show her who’s boss, but each time she slams her hips down onto you, it’s like she sucks away your will to fight little by little until you're completely left at her mercy.
“Fuck, this is so much better than using my fingers,” she groans, throwing her head back in ecstasy. “I bet you’ve imagined this before, huh? Filling my pussy with your disgusting cock?”
You nod sheepishly. Her words aren’t entirely false; you’ve imagined what it would be like to sleep with some of the girls, but never did you think you would actually get the chance to. Gaeul rocks her hips back and forth, relishing in the way your breath quickens and your eyes twitch with each slam of her petite hips. You feel yourself begin to reach the apex of your climax and urgently tap her thighs to warn her, but all she does is laugh in your face.
“You wanna dump your cum deep into my cunt, don’t you? Impregnate me with your disgusting seed?” she teases. “I’m not on the pill. What are you gonna do?”
Your eyes clamp shut, trying desperately to ignore the building sensation in the pit of your stomach. But with her warm walls making you lose all sense of control, it’s only a matter of time before you inevitably burst inside of her. Right at the last second, you grab Gaeul’s hips and lift her off of you, shooting your cum onto your stomach. Gaeul’s body shakes violently as she reaches her own orgasm, furiously rubbing at her clit as her juices spray all over your torso. Once her messy climax subsides, she scoops a dollop of your semen off of your stomach and licks it, swirling your combined juices in her mouth with a smirk.
“Mmm, tasty,” she says, cupping your chin while her other hand strokes your semi-hard shaft. “You better get it up soon, I’m not done using you.”
“Y-yes…” you mutter, still basking in the high of your orgasm.
Her grip on your face deepens, digging her nails into your cheek. “Yes, who?”
“Yes… mistress,” you utter like the word is commonplace on your tongue. With an amused smirk, Gaeul plants a kiss on your lips, much gentler than you had anticipated.
“You learn quickly. Good boy~” Hearing her say that makes your skin shiver in delight, craving the sensual lilt in her voice. You want her approval. You need her approval. With her, you’re not her manager anymore, you’re her plaything that lives to serve her.
Gaeul bites her lip as she looks down at your cock, already at full mast once again. “Carry me to my room.”
“Yes, mistress,” you answer promptly, scooping her up into your arms. Gaeul nips at your ear as you carry her to her room, trapping yourself inside with the little beast that you’ve worked with for years. The line of morality blurs to the point of disappearing, almost as if it was never there in the first place. It doesn’t matter anymore. All you care about is serving your mistress until she’s completely satisfied.
______________________________________________________________
Your eyes blink open to sunlight peeking through the window. The mattress feels oddly soft, more so than usual. Maybe it’s finally time to bite the bullet and get a new mattress. A blinding headache keeps you glued to your back, unable to make any sudden movements. Your ceiling fan looks odd too. Has it always been this big?
The door clicks open followed by a few light footsteps. “Good morning!” That’s Gaeul’s voice. Why is that Gaeul’s voice?
Panic begins to ensue as you finally look around the room. This isn’t your room. This isn’t your mattress. That’s not your ceiling fan. And where the hell are your clothes?
“W-what the-”
“Here.” Gaeul hands you a water bottle. “I bet your hangover is killing you right now.”
You quickly cover yourself with a blanket, blushing sheepishly. “G-Gaeul… Why am I here? A-and where are my cloth-” Your jaw drops in shock as you scan her outfit — She’s wearing your t-shirt paired with nothing but black panties.
“W-why are you wearing my shirt!?”
She pouts at you, placing the water bottle on her nightstand. “Do you not remember what happened last night?” She leans in with a smirk. “Because I definitely do.”
Her warmth tickles your ear. It’s an oddly… pleasant feeling, but that’s not important right now. “D-did we…?”
“Have sex?” Gaeul finishes your sentence, sitting down next to you. “Yes, we did. And it was amazing.”
Your face falls into your hands. You could lose your job for this. Hell, you could get blacklisted from the entire industry. No one’s going to want to hire a manager that fucked an idol they were supposed to be managing. This is it. You’re gonna have to flee the country, maybe even change your name. You’ll become a beet farmer on some remote island where your only friend is a seagull and-
“Hey,” Gaeul soothes you, rubbing your back. “You look worried. Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I-I should’ve never let this happen, I could lose my job, my apartment, my-”
“You’re not gonna lose your job,” she assures you. “If they fire you, I’ll threaten to leave the group.” You turn to her, confused. “W-what, why?”
“Because…” A light blush grows on her cheeks. “I like you. And you made me feel sooo good last night.”
“U-um…”
“Do you still not remember what happened?” she sighs. You shake your head no. “Hmm… maybe this will help jog your memory.”
With a smirk, Gaeul cups your chin, forcing you to look at her. Her hair is still messy and her face is barren without makeup, yet she still looks so beautiful in front of you. She leans in, giving you that same pleasant feeling as her breath dances on your earlobe.
“Good boy.”
Like a movie, the scenes of last night’s misdeeds play vividly in your mind, reminding you exactly what transpired: The dinner. The taxi ride. The sex. Holy fuck, the sex. You’ve dated submissive girls before, but the way Gaeul dominated you was a whole different experience, nothing you’ve ever felt before. She took away your ability to breathe properly, completely leaving you at her mercy, and you enjoyed it. It felt dirty, but it felt good.
Gaeul chuckles as she notices your erection poking through the blanket. “Did that turn you on?”
“N-no, uh…”
“You’re really gonna be shy about it now? It looked like you were enjoying yourself more than I was last night,” she teases.
The blush on your cheeks deepen. “L-look, I… I’ve never done that kind of thing before. Hell, I’ve never had sex with an idol before. This is all kinda new to me,” you admit.
Gaeul sighs, gazing at the wall in contemplation. “I’ve never done anything like that before either. But I liked it.” She turns to you. “Did you like it?”
“Uh… Yeah. I did.”
“Would you want to keep doing it?”
The threat of losing your job still lingers in your mind. This is all new and potentially dangerous territory, and you have no idea what the future could possibly hold for either of you. But you would be the biggest idiot in the world if you lied to yourself and declined her offer.
“Yeah. I want to keep doing this with you,” you say. With a smile, Gaeul tears away the blanket and excitedly jumps into your lap, her crotch resting on your exposed erection. The thin fabric of her panties is the only thing keeping you separated from her sweet pussy.
“So does that mean you’ll be my boyfriend?” She asks, now grinding her hips against you. Your breath gets thinner as the heat of ecstasy fills up your entire body.
“Y-yes, I would love to be your boyfriend.”
Gaeul grabs your chin, her nails sinking into the flesh of your cheeks. “Yes, who?”
A moan escapes your lips as the pleasure mixes with the pain, leaving you in a state of bliss. “Yes, mistress.”
She smirks at you before taking off your shirt, revealing her perky tits and her petite waist to you. “Good boy. I can’t wait to play with you some more~”
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 4: HOW TO MAKE IT LAST
The last few weeks have been the most exciting weeks of your life. All the previous stress of working as IVE’s manager practically disappeared now that you were with Gaeul. No more wrestling with Dispatch after one of the members gets caught anymore, all she has to do is assert her dominance as the oldest and the rest of the members will listen to her. If you knew that a cheat sheet was underneath your nose this whole time, you would’ve dated her sooner.
Of course, to avoid any controversy and damage to the group, your relationship was kept a secret from everyone, including the members. However, that didn’t stop her from constantly calling you to fulfill her needs. It doesn’t matter where, when, or how many people are around, if she’s in need of release, you’re on your knees, lapping at her pussy like it’s your last meal. Gaeul is absolutely crazy, but you would be downright insane to tell your mistress “no”.
After a couple of close calls, both of you decided that it would be best to come clean to her members about your relationship. It’s already hard enough trying to keep your hands off of each other; you wouldn't want any of them to walk in on the two of you while your tongue is deep inside your girlfriend. At first, you assumed that Gaeul would simply send a quick text to the girls to alert them, but it seems like she has some other plans in mind as the two of you wait for them in one of Starship’s meeting rooms.
Gaeul moans in delight as you suck on her neck while she grinds against your leg. “Fuck, that feels good, baby,” she coos.
“Not that I’m complaining, but don’t you think it’ll be awkward if they walk in on us like this?” You ask, nipping at her ear.
“I locked the door, so they’ll have to knock before they can come in.” Of course she accounted for that. God, you fucking love her. “Now shut up and get back to sucking.”
“Yes, mistress,” you oblige, sinking your fingers into her ass as you ravage her neck. However, your playtime is cut short as a knock at the door signals the presence of the other girls.
“God dammit,” you groan. “Can we make this quick, babe? I need you so badly.”
Gaeul flashes you a mischievous smirk, giving you a soft parting kiss before climbing out of your lap. “Don’t worry, cutie, we’ll get to have some fun sooner than you think.” You ogle at her hips as she sashays over to the door, unlocking it and smiling brightly at Wonyoung, Yujin, Liz, and Rei as they file through. You try to offer a similar smile, but with the aching in your jeans, you’re barely coherent enough to breathe properly.
“I’m so glad you guys could make it!” Gaeul exclaims, locking the door behind them.
“Of course!” Yujin replies. “You said you had an important announcement, so that means it’s important to us too!”
“Couldn’t you just text us though? And why is our manager here?” Rei asks, eyeing the two of you suspiciously. You nervously avert your gaze, looking towards Gaeul for support.
“Because he’s part of this and I wanted to show you guys something in person,” Gaeul explains. She takes a quick breath before continuing. “So, I’m sure you’re all aware of how much I’ve been complaining about not having a boyfriend, and-”
“Wah! You got a boyfriend!?” Liz exclaims, connecting the dots fairly quickly. “Who is it? Is it that one rookie that was staring at you during recording last week?”
“Ew, no,” she grimaces. “It’s actually someone all of you know very well.” Gaeul suddenly climbs onto your lap, planting a delicate kiss on your cheek. Normally, you would feel pretty nervous about doing something this vulgar in front of others, but her body heat combined with your raging hormones from your interrupted makeout session makes you completely forget about everyone else. A billion people could be watching and you would still let this gorgeous beauty do anything she wants to your body.
The girls applaud at Gaeul’s announcement, except for Wonyoung, who overdramatically rolls her eyes at the news. “You called us in to tell us this? It was so obvious you two were dating, you were practically attached at the hip for the past couple weeks.”
Gaeul chuckles, eyes darkening as she captures you with her gaze. “Actually, there’s something else I wanted to show you guys too.” Much to your dismay, she gets off of you and drags a chair some distance away from you, sitting down. “You see, our manager here is actually a bit of a freak.”
The girls stifle their laughter as they glance at you, causing your cheeks to burn with embarrassment and confusion. “U-um, babe? W-what are you-”
“I could’ve acted like some ‘ditzy little fuck doll’ and let him have his way with me,” Gaeul scoffs, disdain dripping in her tone. “But then I thought ‘Why should I let him have all the fun? Our dear manager is always bossing us around, so why don’t I take charge for once?’ Granted, it was a gamble, but it paid off sooo fucking well. Don’t you agree, baby?”
Your cheeks grow redder by the second as they all look at you expectantly. “I-I mean, yeah, I-I liked it-” Suddenly, a piece of fabric hits you in the face. You examine it in your hands, your eyes growing wide with shock as you realize what it is — Gaeul’s shirt.
The rest of her members cheer at her boldness while your heart pounds against your chest, tracing her silhouette with your hungry gaze. “Crawl,” she commands.
Your eyes dart nervously between her and the rest of the girls, desire and judgment warring in your mind. “B-b-but-”
“I didn’t say you could speak,” she spits, her eyes narrowing. “Now, be a good boy and fucking crawl.”
A flip switches in your brain as desire wins the war by a landslide. Any hint of embarrassment you once held is now gone, replaced by an overwhelming amount of lust. You fall to your hands and knees, ignoring the hollering from the other girls. To you, they don’t exist anymore. All that matters is satisfying your mistress in any way you can.
Gaeul harshly grips your hair once you reach her, forcing you to stare into her eyes. The heat from her breath hits your face, driving you mad with want. You swear a glob of drool falls from your lip at the thought of getting to taste her sweet pussy again.
She drags her thumb over your lips, smirking. “Tell them what you are,” she orders, turning your head towards her members. Wonyoung rests her head against her palm like she’d rather be somewhere else, while Yujin starts recording you with her phone, no doubt to hold it over your head if you inconvenience her later on. Liz stares at you, deeply flustered, yet a hint of jealousy in her eyes, and you notice Rei sneakily trying to touch herself, her face beet red with pent up arousal.
“I am mistress’s plaything. I live to satisfy her and her alone, no matter where or when she asks me to,” you state. Wonyoung mouths an impressed “Oh wow” at Gaeul before glancing at you with a hint of disgust in her eyes.
Your hair is yanked back towards your girlfriend. “Mmm, it’s cute just how pathetic you fucking look. I bet you want your reward now, don’t you?” She teases the hem of her shorts with her other hand, flashing a glimpse of her panties at you. You nod enthusiastically, ignoring the pain in your scalp while you pant like a dog with desperation.
“Y-yes, please. I want you so badly, mistress. I crave the taste of your sweetness,” you beg. She smirks at you before standing up and removing her shorts, leaving just the fabric of her panties to block you from the true prize within like a wrapper on a candy bar. Hastily, you move your hands to the hem of her panties, but she quickly swats them away.
“Use your teeth, you fucking dog,” she spits.
“Yes, mistress.” As you get closer to her heat, her scent wafts through your nose, sending your mind deeper into a frenzy. You bite down onto the hem and jerk your head downwards, quickly uncovering the object of your desire hiding underneath. With her panties hanging from your teeth, you look up at her in search of her approval.
“Damn, I wish my boyfriend was that obedient…” Liz mutters under her breath.
Gaeul gently cups your chin, smiling at you with a palpable desire in her eyes. You love that look. You want her to look at you like that all the time, even if it means humiliating yourself in front of the girl group that you are paid to take care of. You are her pet, her plaything, her good boy that does anything she wants.
“Lick my pussy, baby,” she whispers, commanding yet soft. She bites her lip as she watches your face inch closer and closer to her dripping core, glistening and beautiful. You run your tongue along her slit, gratefully lapping at her juices while your hands caress her slender thighs. Gaeul grinds her hips against your face, pulling at your hair every time you make contact with her clit.
“F-fuck yes!” she moans, forgetting about the audience that she brought along. “J-just like that… Such a good boy… K-keep fucking me with that tongue, oh fuck!”
The sound of her pleasure is your favorite song, but it gets harder to hear as her thighs clamp around your ears. No matter; you’re doing this for her and not for you, after all. Double your efforts to please her, work your fingers into her hole while you flick your tongue against her clit. Don’t worry about the cramping in your tongue or the lack of oxygen in your lungs. All the pain is worth it for your mistress.
You feel her entire body contract as her orgasm overtakes, nearly collapsing on top of you in the process. You do your best to support her body, all while drinking up her nectar like it’s the first drop of rainfall during a long drought. The familiar tanginess hits your tongue, a flavor that you crave more than the fancy dinner she treated you on your first night together.
“H-holy shit…” Gaeul stutters, holding onto your shoulders for support as she catches her breath. “Get on the chair… I-I wanna ride you…”
You notice her legs are still shaking underneath her. “A-are you sur-”
“I said get on the fucking chair!”
You quickly jump to your feet and do as you're told, subtly making sure Gaeul doesn’t fall over before moving from underneath her. She silently scorns you with a furious glare for not immediately following her orders. The rest of the girls watch with bated breath, not used to this side of her.
Gaeul makes quick work of your jeans and your boxers, roughly squeezing your shaft in between her fingers. “Are you gonna keep fucking disobeying me, or are you gonna follow my instructions like a good boy?” she whispers harshly into your ear.
You squirm underneath her grasp, the pain only turning you on even more. “I-I’ll be a good boy, mistress. I s-swear.”
“U-um…” Wonyoung nervously interjects. “Isn’t this a bit much, Gaeul? He looks like he’s in pain.”
Gaeul wraps her other hand around your neck, her palm pushing against your Adam's apple. You moan against her touch, enjoying the lightheadedness. “Don’t you like this, baby? Don’t you love being a good little dog for me?” She teases, slowly stroking your cock.
“Y-yes, I love it so much. I love being my mistress’s dog,” you say, your breath shivering.
Gaeul turns back to Wonyoung. “See? He likes it,” she states simply. Wonyoung concedes and sinks into her chair, continuing to watch the sick and twisted display of affection in front of her with faint but growing interest.
With that out of the way, Gaeul turns back to you and hops into your lap, teasing your tip by dragging it along her wet slit. “Do you want this pussy, baby? Do you want to fill it with your disgusting cock?”
“Y-yes, mistress. I want you so badly.” Your skin crawls as jolts of electricity shoot through you with each slow drag of her lips. Any ounce of sanity you had left has completely turned into mush at this point. Despite your basest desires, you know better than to thrust into her without her permission. She has you right under her thumb, and any mistake could mean getting squashed without warning.
Her grip on your neck tightens. “Beg for it, bitch.”
“P-please… I-I need it… N-need you…” you manage to choke out, writhing under her grasp. She grins at you, shoving a messy kiss on your lips as she slams her hips down onto you. She rips a moan from deep within your chest as you grant her tongue free reign over yours, earning a hum of satisfaction in response. Her velvety walls grip onto your cock, squeezing any remaining energy you had left. You’re nothing more than a glorified dildo to be used by your merciful mistress.
Gaeul suddenly breaks the kiss, slapping you across the face. Blood rushes to your cheek, now marked red by her hand.
“Gaeul…!” Yujin gasps in shock. “Th-that’s-”
“Do it again!” you plead, silencing her concern. “P-please, mistress. Hit me again.”
Your mistress bites her lip at you, intensifying the gyration of her hips while blessing your cheeks with a frenzy of slaps. You grow dizzy with pain and pleasure, higher than any drug could ever take you.
“T-take it, you fucking dog!” she moans, continuing her assault on your face as her second orgasm rapidly approaches. You feel your own quickly following suit and tap her thigh to warn her, but Gaeul instead wraps her arms around you, showing no signs of slowing down her hips.
“I-I’m safe today, b-baby,” she whispers into your ear, much more gentle than she usually is. “Y-you can c-cum in me if you want… I f-fucking love you…”
The walls of her gorgeous pussy squeeze your shaft as she squirts onto your cock. You follow her soon after, covering her insides with your cum for the first time ever, clinging onto Gaeul’s delicate body. Your mind floats around in pure ecstasy, a feeling you never want to let go of. Gaeul lazily kisses on your neck as she recovers from her high.
“I… love you… too,” you breathlessly mutter before falling victim to exhaustion and collapsing against the chair. Gaeul climbs off of your lap and collects her discarded clothing off the ground, stumbling with each step.
“Well… that was interesting to say the least,” Yujin says after a long silence, finishing the recording on her phone.
“Send me that video later, that was really hot…” Rei whispers to her.
“Um, is he gonna be okay?” Liz asks. “I’m pretty sure we have a schedule tomorrow.”
Gaeul looks over to your now sleeping form and smiles with adoration. She kisses your reddened cheek, careful not to wake you. “He’ll be fine, I’m pretty sure,” she assures them.
Wonyoung stands up from her seat. “I’m glad you found a good… boytoy, or whatever you call him,” she says, patting Gaeul’s shoulder before leaving the meeting room. The rest of the girls follow suit, leaving Gaeul alone with you as she waits for you to wake up.
She slides a chair next to you and plants another gentle kiss on your cheek before sitting. “Good boy~” she whispers delicately, resting her head on your shoulder.
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