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intromortal · 2 months ago

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ꕥ NICE N' FULL ⸝⸝⸝ six different scenarios in which the enhypen members breed the fuck out of you !

⚠︎ smut. mdni. breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, p in v, dirty talking, pet names, more warnings listed for each member. total wc 4k. ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list

✷ NIA — not exactly what bae @vampsol asked for bc i went a little au-ish here :p but it's me so what did we expect. shoutout to my goat @karinasbaby for sharing a braincell with me and helping me w the ideas <3

ꕥ LEE HEESEUNG

arranged marriage, it's okay they're starting to be obsessed with each other, slight somno, oral (f. rec), cum eating

If you were to tell anyone Heeseung didn't as much as look you in the eyes about two months ago, they'd never believe you. Not if the way he's clinging to your lower half before he even opens his eyes fully is anything to go by. Still naked in bed, the wet sheets clinging to your bodies the only thing shielding you from the cool dawn air.

Marriages of convenience are rarely easy, especially for spirits as free as Heeseung, and he's made it clear to you how much he'd rather have married anyone else instead. They also come with burdensome expectations of heirs way too soon for his liking. Yet, something about your devotion to him in your most intimate moments despite your general indifference and coldness towards each other, brought the cold and hard as steel man down to his knees, a puddle of mush at your feet ready to fulfill any request.

"Hee," you mutter softly against your pillow as he parts your legs to make space for himself, and Heeseung's heart soars. A month ago it would've been 'Heeseung' or 'husband' with that venomous tone you seemed to only reserve for him, like his spot in your life was only a joke. It's different now, you're tender with him.

"Shh, pretty. Just lay here for me like this." It's still early, and Heeseung can barely see, but he wants the first thing he looks at in the morning to be your pretty hole, raw and sore from all the previous fucking, still gush his seed out. He parts your folds slowly, careful not to hurt you, and watches as his milky cum greets him, pouring out of you. It's a sight for sore eyes, and one he knows he will never get enough of. Even when he'll manage to put a child in you, he knows this is something he won't be able to let go of.

You shift, now more aware of your surroundings, but Hee is quick to keep you still. Your hand underneath your stomach faintly tingles because of its weird position, but it all fades in the background when Heeseung grabs your ass and spreads it, moving lap at where his cum is gushing out of you.

You're still sensitive from the night you spent together, but his touch is feather light and you don't really know if you want him to stop or you want more. He moans at the mixture of your tastes, pushing his tongue deeper inside your cunt like he's trying to clean you, switching so soft kisses on your lips once he's satisfied.

He makes his way up to your face, littering your bottom and spine in kisses and playful nibbles, relishing in the little sounds you make in response. Your front is still pressed to the mattress, and not seeing him almost makes you believe this is not the Heeseung that was shooting you sharp glares throughout the entire wedding ceremony. His touch is warmer, so much more delicate than the way he held your end that first night. His kisses are slow and deliberate, not empty and forced anymore. It's like soul has find its way back into Heeseung's being, after months of being a cold slate. The change started out slowly, but now you're here, and you genuinely feel like you could really love this man. Maybe a part of you does already.

His voice is the same, but the tone makes him sound like a whole different person, the forever present irritation is gone, only a playful tilt to it left as he finally reaches your ear to whisper in it. "Slipped out while sleeping, all of our hard work gone… such a pity." Heeseung aligns his cock to your weeping cunt, rubbing his head a few times along your folds, then carefully pushes in. "We have to do it all over again."

He's gentle, showering you in soft praises, and his thrusts are even slower. You've never known anything other than fucking, but you think this is what lovemaking feels like.

"So good, baby. You'll be such a good mom, you've been so patient with me even when i didn't deserve it. You'll be wonderful," he whispers in your ear, raising goosebumps all over your skin at just how sweet he sounds. "You are wonderful. You're perfect."

ꕥ PARK JONGSEONG

husband!jay, semi-public, bulge kink, he's insatiable

What better way to spend your honeymoon trip if not by getting filled over and over again by your dear, newlywed husband?

You can't think of any, but maybe that's also because you can't really think about anything that's not the delicious drag of Jay's cock against your walls. So deep inside you, pushing more even when his balls are already flush to your skin. Like he can't get enough, like he could break any barrier and mold into you as one if he really put his mind to it. He needs more, you both do.

But one thing's for sure, he's giving you his all.

"So fucking good, my wife has the best pussy. So perfect for me," he pants hotly in your ear, his large warm hand cupping your breast and separating it from the frigid glass your front is pushed against. The view from your suite is breathtaking, emphasized by the huge transparent wall, right beside the queen sized bed. At the moment though, you're not really focused on it. Nor is Jay, too busy gawking at your beautiful figure caged between his chest and the glass. He could stare at you forever. "I'm gonna stuff you full, baby. Gonna fuck you so good all trip, there's no way you won't be pregnant by the end."

You believe it, because all he's done ever since you undid your luggage in the middle of the room once you arrived to your destination is pump you full of his cum, all day, all night. And then all over again. Only stopping to get you food. You aren't safe from him when showering, even worse when taking a bath, definitely not when you're lounging around the natural pool close to your suite. It's not his fault you look so good in the bathing suits you packed and the ones he picked out for you. Jay has always had good stamina, but ever since the wedding he's been downright feral.

His thrusts are slow, but intense, like he's trying to drag the pleasure out as long as he can, savoring the way his tip nudges just the right stop that has you mewling in his hold every single time. His breath is warm against your neck and so are his grunts of pleasure, your favorite sound in the whole world.

Jay twists your sensitive and sore nipples between his fingers, only smiling into your neck when you reward him with the cutest mewls he's ever heard in his life. "Fuck, baby. I'm the luckiest man alive. I can't believe you're mine forever."

"You too," you whine in response.

"Yes baby, I'm all yours, forever. I love you much."

"Love you too," you sob, throwing your head back into his shoulder, completely overtaken by the pleasure he's giving you, allowing him more access to lick and suck on your sensitive neck.

"I know, baby. I know. You're doing so good, just a little more. My sweet girl, you'll be such a good mom. Can't wait to make you one. We'll have so many, so many cute kids running around. Doesn't that sound like a dream? Fuck, I can't wait."

The hand still playing with your tits slides down to your stomach, pushing down on it until Jay can feel his own cock thrusting into you. "Right here, you're gonna carry our baby here." He keeps fucking into you slowly, deliberately, so different from the speed of the circles he draws on your clit with the fingers that were soothing your hip just moments before. He drags out his own pleasure, but needs to give you so much more. "Come on my cock baby, milk it dry. We have so much more work to do."

ꕥ SIM JAEYUN

fwb!jake but he has feelings, he's down bad and a little subby in this one, dub-con (for jake), slight blood play (just his lip)

This is a series of mistakes. It's all Jake seems to be doing as of lately.

First of all, he's not even supposed to be in your bed again, the fourth time this week. Not when he finally came to terms with the fact that he has developed a raging crush on you and cannot keep his feelings at bay any longer, even when you two agreed this whole arrangement will only be sex and nothing else.

But he can't help it when you're so fucking addicting. You not liking him back is gonna break his heart, but at least he gets to fuck you, at least he gets a little piece of you, even if it's not exactly the one he wants.

Secondly, he should've refused to fuck you raw for the first time the moment you asked, even if the thought alone had his eyes crossing and rolling all the way to the back of his skull. But he's a weak man, for you especially, and he simply couldn't resist the temptation, not when you looked up at him with your big glossy eyes and with such a cute pout on your lip.

So here he is now, fucking you raw like his life is on the line, trying his hardest not to spill inside you too soon because if he does he might just die from embarrassment.

All he does, all he's ever done, is with the purpose of impressing you. It's like you have him chained up to this invisible leash he didn't even notice you put on him, and now it's too late to take it off. Jake means it when he says he would do anything for you.

His thrusts are shallow and quick, he's fucking you mostly with his tip, and you don't think you've ever seen him so worked up. It makes you feel things you didn't even know you needed. You like the feeling.

"You're so cute like this, Jakey," you giggle into the messy open mouthed kiss he's drowning you in, your fingers ghosting on the muscles of his back while his tremble on your waist. "Fuck me deeper, I want to feel all of you."

Jake's hips still for a second as he bites down on his bottom lip so hard he draws blood, but you don't mind at all. You even lick it clean, sighing dreamily at the iron taste overtaking your senses. Jake's eyes screw shut, and he's so close to cumming his eyes start to water. This is simultaneously the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him, and thinking that this might very well be the last time only makes his eyes wetter.

"I—fuck. I can't. I'll cum too soon."

"That's okay, we can go again," you say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and a little piece of Jake's heart breaks. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take.

You sense his hesitation and wrap your legs around his hips, pushing them closer to your pelvis so his length fully sheaths inside you. It's so warm and big and throbbing to release his cum in you and there's not a single thing you want more. "Fill me up, Jakey. Claim me," you whisper in his ear. "Why don't you show everyone I belong to you?"

Jake resumes his movements, tentatively at first but steadily building a pace that feels good, his thrusts are deeper now, needier, and even if he were to try to pull out, you'd keep him right there. "I want to. I want you fully, fuck— please be mine," he sobs into the valley of your breasts, voice muffled as he licks and nips at your skin.

"Go on. Make me yours then. Show me how bad you want me."

And he does because fuck, he's weak. He's so fucking weak for you and he wouldn't have it any other way.

ꕥ PARK SUNGHOON

coworker!hoon, secret relationship, semi-public, degradation, jealousy, mentions of marriage

Something about the way Sunghoon's thick eyebrows were furrowed from the second he walked into the job that morning, or how his jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth whenever any of your colleagues as much as opened their mouths to say something, should've been your cue to behave for the day.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, he happens to look so damn hot when he's pissed.

And he's so filthy when he's jealous, pushing his buttons becomes your favorite challenge in times like these.

"Eyeing Jake all day like you want to bring him to the back and fuck him, are you not ashamed?" he spits, voice an octave lower than usual and barely slipping through his gritted teeth. "Bending over in front of him, touching him when you know I can see you. Do I have to mark you up for you to fucking behave for once?"

The roughness in his voice makes your eyes wet but your panties wetter, he doesn't bother to undress you, you don't have time for it anyway. You're just a few steps away from the lounge bar where some of your coworkers are surely taking a break right now. Anyone could walk in at any time, and maybe Sunghoon wishes for that to happen.

Instead Sunghoon just flips your skirt up and pushes your panties to the side, immediately rubbing his angry red tip on your folds to coat them in your own juices. He feels so incredibly hard against you, and that's how you know he must've been hiding a boner this entire time. As much as he loves to pretend he doesn't, it's little cues like this that let you know just how much he enjoys putting you back in your place. "Of course you're soaked." He barks a laugh devoid of humor but full of disdain.

"If it's my attention you want," he whispers more softly, and the switch in his attitude sends shivers down your spine, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Sunghoon, his lips curling into a smirk. "I'll give it to you. I'll give you so much of it you won't ever think about disrespecting me again."

He pushes his girth into you fully in one thrust, his rough fingers finding your clit within seconds, not even giving you enough time to savor the pleasurable sting that comes from his cock stretching you out so nicely. He grabs your jaw in his other hand, his smirk not turned into a snarl. "You'll cum, and you'll cum hard enough to milk all of me. You'll keep cumming around my cock no matter how much it hurts, until I fill you up. Is that clear?"

You would nod if you could, but his grip is too strong, so you do what you can: just stand there as he subjects you to anything his heart desires. He doesn't move his hips, doesn't give you that satisfaction, only rubs his fingers on your tiny bundle of nerves so hard it almost hurts, but you'd never ask him to stop it.

"You'll take all of my cum, until your belly is swollen by how much of it I fuck into you. I'll put a baby in you so no one else will ever mistake you for anything other than mine."

You clench around him, time and time again, just like he wants you to. Sunghoon has you under a spell, and the more he talks, the more he flicks your clit, the less you think about what's rational and what's not. You only know what he tells you, and to you that's the only truth you need to hear.

"I'll put a ring on your finger, make you my pretty little wife. Maybe even make you stop coming in, I'll take care of everything. Yeah, keep milking me like that, baby. Let me make you a mommy."

ꕥ KIM SUNOO

ewb, hate sex, degradation, marking, one singular 'slut', condom comes off!

"You're—mhh, such a bad fuck," you say over your shoulder, wanting to see Sunoo's reaction despite the uncomfortable position. You're lying through your teeth, of course. You know how much saying things like this riles Sunoo up, and the only times you feel anything akin to like towards him is when he's rough with you. It's why despite the mutual hatred that makes up the entirety of your relationship, you two keep finding yourselves skin to skin, tangled in bed sheets. You always thought you needed someone to fuck you like they hate you, turns out, what you really craved was someone to fuck you because they hate you. And the right man for the job is right behind you, thrusting into you like he wants to hurt you, his hands leaving bruises on your hips like it's their right to do so.

"Then why are you here, wetting my cock like no one's fucked you in years?" His moves are relentless, and you have to try your best to not collapse on the bed because of the sheer force behind every stroke. Your legs are shaking, but you hang on a thread just to not give him that satisfaction. Instead, you push him further.

"That guy from—mph, yesterday. He'd—" you gasp as he gives you a harsher thrust, so deep you're sure you can feel it in your guts. The angle he starts fucking you in knocks the air out of your lungs in the best way possible, and even if you're trembling under Sunoo's weight and clawing at the cotton fabric next to you, you refuse to back down. "He'd do a better job."

You don't need to see his face, you hear the smirk in his voice, and it's the kind that sends a shiver down your spine each time. "But you're here." Another sharp thrust. "You don't even remember his name."

"At least he las– lasted while fucking me raw." You feel him halt all movement, and you know this is enough to get what you want from him, but you just can't help it. "You could never."

"You're such a little fox, aren't you?" He speaks calmly, but you can feel the storm brewing under the facade. He drags his fingertips across your spine, barely touching you at all. It's embarrassing how that's enough to have you bend under his touch. He reaches the plush of your ass, grabbing a fistful of it so forcefully you can feel his nails break the skin. He doesn't stop when you complain, doesn't care for your pained moans. "You think you're so smart, but you're just a little slut. You want me to fuck you raw?"

You try to shake your head to deny it, but he knows better.

"Yes you do. Say it." His grip on your ass only gets stronger, and tears line your bottom lashes.

"I do," you whine, finally. "Please."

"Good." Sunoo releases the death grip on your skin, soothing over the red spot with his thumb lightly, like it's not him performing the action. The Sunoo you know has no time for care. "Then take the condom off of me."

Your head snaps back at his words, but he makes no sign of moving. So you do what he says, this once. You reach for this length, then carefully slide the rubber off of it. And right when he thinks you're finally behaving, you squeeze his cock so hard his hips stutter forward and you actually manage to steal a surprised yelp out of him.

Sunoo's reaction is immediate. He grabs both of your hands, uncaring for the way your elbows are uncomfortably bent, and brings your wrists together behind your back. He slides into you again in one swift motion, not giving you even a second to savor the feeling of his bare cock pushing into your heat for the first time. All of your nerves feel on fire, and as he sets a breakneck pace while keeping you down and unable to move.

"Do I have to fuck a baby into you for you to finally behave?" He gasps when you squeeze him in response to his words. "You'd like that yeah? You'd love for the man you hate to get you pregnant? Is that gonna make you shut the fuck up for once? Oh, I bet it will."

ꕥ YANG JUNGWON

fiancé!won, they're obsessed your honor, love on the floor

"You can't wait to get me pregnant, but what will you do when you won't be able to suck on my tits for months, mhh?" You giggle on Jungwon's lap, right in the middle of the empty room.

The new house still smells like new houses usually do, dry and woody, like the windows are never open. There's no furniture yet, but it doesn't stop your heart from pounding in your chest as you look around. Your home.

Jungwon's eyes never leave you though, and when you look back at him and find him smiling at you like you hold the world in your palm, you know you would be happy with every house, no matter the size or appearance, as long as he's the one you share it with.

"What makes you think that's gonna stop me?" Your fiance replies, shaking his head to move the bangs out of his eyes. "I'll even get something more out if it."

"Won!" you exclaim, hiding your face in your hands. Your heart melts a bit when you hear that familiar boyish giggle leave him, light as air, and for once in your life you feel like you've found the right spot in the world.

The warmth you feel spreads further as Jungwon starts caressing your bare thighs, until he's gripping your ass, using it as leverage to push you on his crotch.

You gasp at the feeling, and your hands find their rightful place on his broad shoulders so you can keep yourself steady as he starts to roll your hips against his.

"Won… we shouldn't—"

He shuts you up with a soft peck, resting his forehead against yours. "Why not? It's our place. We worked so hard for it, we should celebrate."

You bite your bottom lip as you think about it, but Won doesn't waste a minute and flips both of you over so you're caged between the floor and his chest. He nibbles on your ear, knowing better than anyone else how weak it makes you when he does that. "I'll make you feel so good, doll." It's like he's put a spell on you because you nod before he even manages to finish his sentence. "Just lay back and let me do all the work."

Your clothes are soon discarded everywhere around you, and your legs are wrapped around his hips as he fucks into you like he never has before. You're both a sweaty mess, panting in each other's mouths, exchanging spit any chance you get.

"Your pussy was made for me, doll. You're sucking me in so well." Jungwon moans against your lips, and you watch enamored as his eyes shut close and his eyebrows furrow, a droplet of sweat running down from his hairline. "Can't wait to take you on every surface of this house. Fuck— just leave it to me, baby. I have so many surprises for you."

"I'm so close, please," you whine, sliding a hand down his back to push his hips into you further. It makes Jungwon's pace faster, more desperate to give you exactly what you need.

"Let go, baby. Come all over my dick— yeah, just like that. You're taking me so fucking well. Such a perfect doll for me." His praise goes straight to your cunt, and you squeeze him impossibly hard as wakes of pleasure rack through your body.

"My perfect angel, you're gonna look so good swollen with our baby. Am gonna give you all of my cum, just a little more. We'll have so many kids running around the house we built. Our home forever," Jungwon babbles in your ear, and you're so fucked out you can even barely make out what he's telling you. You just know you need him to fuck you full, over and over.

His hips never stutter, despite how drenched and slippery everything is by now, a puddle of wetness pooling underneath you on the hard floor, getting bigger and bigger the more Jungwon fucks you, and you suspect the floor won't be the only surface you'll wet that day.

#✷ mortal works #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #jay smut #jay x reader #jake smut #jake x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #sunoo smut #sunoo x reader #jungwon smut #jungwon x reader #jongseong smut #jongseong x reader #jaeyun x reader #jaeyun smut

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thankskenpenders · 1 year ago

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The Lara-Su Chronicles: Beginnings review

The day has finally come. Many, understandably, thought we'd never get here. Maybe we shouldn't have gotten here. We've been through so much. Lawsuits, reboots, redesigns, unreleased NFTs, empty legal threats over the fact that movie Knuckles has a dad, an attempt to license out Scourge the Hedgehog to fans that immediately got canceled (in both meanings of the term), and many, MANY idiotic Twitter controversies. But now, here we are.

Thirteen years after first announcing it in the middle of his legal battles with Archie and Sega that changed the American Sonic comics forever, former writer Ken Penders has released the first part of his new series: The Lara-Su Chronicles.

Yes. I had to buy the book. I had to take one for the team. Look at the fucking URL of this blog, a blog I've been using to talk about the American Sonic comics for nearly a decade while the specter of this book loomed in the distance. The one time I've actually been paid to write an article about anything in any professional capacity, it was an article about the Penders lawsuits. I'm cited on his Wikipedia page. There was no way I was going to skip reviewing this, and there was no guarantee that scans would ever turn up online given the incredibly small audience for this trash. (Only 166 people preordered this, and even that number feels way higher than it should be.) No, I had to preorder it to ensure I could get a copy and cover it for the blog... even if that meant my name would be forever immortalized in the list of "supporters" in the back of the book. These are the sacrifices I must make as a woman who stumbled ass backwards into being an amateur Archie Sonic historian.

So, what exactly is in this book? How much of it is new? How bad is it? How did we even get here in the first place? How can this exist without Sega pursuing legal action? What happens next? And, most importantly... why are there multiple depictions of an Archie Sonic character breastfeeding in this book?

I'm here to answer those questions as best I can, and in agonizing detail.

First, for those just tuning in to this decades-long saga or those who maybe don't know the full story, here's a refresher on the background info.

"What the hell is this?"

The Lara-Su Chronicles is Ken Penders' long-dreaded long-awaited continuation of his 1994-2006 run on Archie Sonic, ignoring everything written after he left by other writers like Ian Flynn. In particular, it picks up from the cliffhanger ending of the 2003-2004 arc "Mobius: 25 Years Later," which was set in what Ken considers the definitive canonical future of the series. It stars Knuckles' daughter from that future era, Lara-Su, among other new and returning characters. The project was first announced near the start of Ken's legal battle with Archie in 2011, and he's been posting WIP previews online for about a decade. Now, after all this time, a Lara-Su Chronicles book finally exists.

We'll get to the actual contents of that book in a bit.

"He can do that without getting in trouble with Sega?"

Believe it or not, yes, he can.

Thanks to the outcome of Archie Comics' woefully mismanaged lawsuits against Ken (yes, they sued him after he started filing for copyrights, not the other way around), he now has full legal ownership of every story he wrote for Archie Sonic and every character he created for the series. This was explicitly granted to him in the terms of the settlement between him and Archie (acting on behalf of Sega). He can even reprint his old Sonic material as-is to his heart's content. The main catch is just that he can't write new stories featuring Sega characters or trademarks, and his new stories also have to be distinct from Sonic at a glance to avoid confusing readers. As such, reprints can't use Sonic iconography on the cover, a few Sega characters (mainly Knuckles) have been renamed and slightly redesigned in the new stories, and the art style has been changed to less closely resemble Sonic. But otherwise, he can do whatever he wants with his own characters.

All of this is because Archie lost the original copy of Ken's work-for-hire contract that signed over the rights to his work. Without that (or any alternative that was considered permissible in court), his comics and characters are the property of their creator by default. Yes, those old comics are full of Sega stuff, but Sega doesn't automatically own the copyright for every drawing of Sonic in existence. And Sega put their stamp of approval all over those comics and let them get sold at retail for decades, even though (in the eyes of the court) there was no legal paperwork granting them ownership of any of it. It's almost like they were unwittingly distributing a fan comic for years and declaring it a fair use of their property, and now there's no takesies backsies. It's a strange and unique copyright situation. Again, they worked all this out in the settlement. And, yes, fans have long speculated that Ken stole and destroyed his own contract to regain the rights to his work, but frankly Archie was so incompetent throughout the lawsuit (it went so bad that they had to fire and replace their lawyers midway through) that I completely buy the idea of them just losing important legal documents.

Also, in case it needs to be spelled out: while Ken's a weirdo, it's ultimately a good thing for creatives everywhere that Archie lost their lawsuit against Ken. We do not want to live in a world where corporations can claim ownership of peoples' work without the contracts to back it up. That would be an incredibly dangerous legal precedent to set. And more comic creators, and artists in general, should own their own work! Corporations are not your friend! They'll delete your work for a tax write-off in a heartbeat! It's just bewildering that this guy, of all people, was the creator who ended up successfully getting his shit back, and that this is what he's doing with it.

"What about his old collaborators? Are they involved? Is he paying them?"

Ken is mostly doing The Lara-Su Chronicles solo, though he has, in fact, talked about compensating the artists involved in any material he's reprinting. The ones who give enough of a shit to get paid for a small scale reprint of something they did 20 years ago, anyway.

On the subject of his collaborators, it's also worth pointing out that Ken's wasn't the only contract that was lost. Most of the early Archie Sonic writers from before Ian Flynn's time seem to be in the same boat as Ken, with the ownership of their stories and characters defaulting back to them. Again, Archie fucked up big time. But like I said, most of them don't really seem to give a shit. For most of them, Sonic was just a random temporary gig they took to pay the bills while Marvel was busy going bankrupt in the '90s, not the thing that defined their entire careers.

The only other Archie Sonic contributor who's tried to do anything on the level of what Ken is doing was writer and editor Scott Fulop. In 2016 he attempted to sue Archie for the unauthorized use of what are now retroactively considered his copyrighted characters and stories, and he even announced a standalone comic about his most famous Sonic character, the recurring villain Mammoth Mogul (sort of a pastiche of DC's Vandal Savage and Marvel's Kingpin, with wizard powers added for spice). However, Fulop lost his lawsuit because he didn't put together a particularly compelling case. Since then he seems to have wiped all traces of his ill-advised Mammoth Mogul comic and his company, Narrative Ark Entertainment, from the internet. For now, this leaves The Lara-Su Chronicles the only project of its kind.

"What about those other Archie Sonic reprints he just announced?"

At the time of writing, Ken is once again claiming that he's trying to get the band back together to reprint all of Archie Sonic, now under the bad new banner "Floating Island Productions: MOBIAN LINE" that I can't imagine he consulted literally anyone else on.

So, like, look. As we've established, Ken can reprint his own stories. And if he can work something out with the other contributors whose contracts were lost, he can print their work, too. But there is no fucking way he's getting his hands on Ian Flynn's run, which Sega undoubtedly holds the copyright for. Even if they don't, Ian needs to maintain a good working relationship with both Sega and IDW if he's to keep his job, so he'd never go for this. Not to mention that Ian and Ken just... don't get along! Ken's whole plan here seems to be predicated on IDW going out of business (a thing he REALLY wants to happen) and freeing up the Sonic comic license, after which he knocks on Sega's door and goes "hey I've still got dirt on you guys," blackmailing them into giving him the Sonic license back so that he can reprint the later comics. Every step of this plan is ludicrous. It's never gonna happen.

He's been saying he wants to reprint the whole series for a few years now, though. This isn't really anything new. And despite his lofty plans that set Sonic Twitter ablaze, he quickly backpedaled. The only specific things in the works right now are a "two-volume omnibus" of all of his Knuckles stories and a collection of artist Scott Shaw's work on the very early Archie Sonic issues, since they're on good terms with each other. I have no idea how Ken plans on packaging these when he can't put any Sega characters or the Freedom Fighters on the covers, but these projects are small enough in scale that there's a decent chance they'll see the light of day. Scott Shaw only did like five issues. But anything beyond that? I'll believe it when I see it.

Or, y'know, this could've all just been a publicity stunt for his new book. I wouldn't put it past him. Let's just focus on the book that actually exists.

"So he finally did it? He made a whole Lara-Su book? It's out? He finished it??"

Yes and no.

The book that's out now is The Lara-Su Chronicles: Beginnings, a prologue for the series of seven graphic novels Ken somehow plans on making, even though it's taken him 13 years to put out literally anything new. I don't know whether or not this counts as book one of seven, because it only features 30 pages of new comics. 30.5 if I'm being generous.

Most of the book is actually just a reprint of his infamous Archie Sonic storyline "Mobius: 25 Years Later", which ran from issue #131 to #144 in 2003-2004. (Again, yes, he can reprint this, he just can't put Sonic on the cover.) Why's it infamous? Well, Ken had been building anticipation for this future era of the series for basically his entire run. We kept seeing King Sonic and Queen Sally from the future. Knuckles' entire backstory hinges on his dad having a vision of this future. Several years before Silver the Hedgehog was created, it was Lara-Su who was Sonic's equivalent to Future Trunks, the cool-looking child of one of the main characters who traveled back in time to try and prevent a dark future. Believe it or not, yes, there was hype for Lara-Su. And then we finally got M25YL, and none of that cool stuff happened. Instead it really ended up being about how unbearably boring the middle aged Sonic, Knuckles, Sally, and co. are in this peaceful future where Robotnik is dead and they're all married with kids, forced into traditional nuclear family gender roles. Lara-Su is present, but she mostly just does generic teen girl stuff and complains about how Knuckles won't let her do anything even though she REALLY wants to be the new Guardian of Angel Island, like, super bad! Come on, dad!!!

In its original printing, this meandering arc ended on an abrupt time travel cliffhanger that Ken was never able to follow up on before he left Archie in 2006. This new printing slightly changes that ending, using the unresolved timey-wimey shenanigans as a convenient excuse to alter the entire timeline. This creates the slightly different world of The Lara-Su Chronicles, where the few relevant Sega-owned characters have been replaced and everyone is ten times uglier.

After this, we finally get two short new stories picking up where M25YL left off: "The Storm," starring Acorn Kingdom super-spy and known creep Geoffrey St. John, and an early release of the first chapter of The Lara-Su Chronicles: Shattered Tomorrows, the first full TLSC graphic novel.

And now that we're all on the same page about what we're looking at, let's actually talk about the book!

The cover

Let's start by beating a dead horse. The cover art: it's still bad! But why is it bad?

The cover is, of course, based on Patrick Spaziante's cover from Archie Sonic #131, the start of the "Mobius: 25 Years Later" arc. (Ken did the layout for that cover, though, so in the eyes of the law he's the original creator who owns that cover.) That cover was, itself, a tribute to the iconic cover of Giant-Size X-Men #1 by Gil Kane and Dave Cockrum, the issue that introduced the version of the team with Wolverine, Storm, Nightcrawler, etc.

Ken seems to have forgotten that the point of both these covers was to hype up the arrival of a new cast of characters. The new guys are supposed to make a dramatic entrance front and center. That's the focal point. Meanwhile, the cover for Beginnings has the old timeline versions of the cast from Archie Sonic dramatically bursting out of a shattered crystal ball, while their new counterparts look on in mild bemusement - if they're even bothering to look at all, since most of the characters here are just copied and pasted from their profile pages. That's just not how you do this particular homage! The point is supposed to be "out with the old, in with the new." And why are they using a crystal ball to view the past? Hell, why are they even using a crystal ball at all? The original arc was presented as a magical vision of the future courtesy of Tails' uncle Merlin (don't ask), but the new story leans all the way into being futuristic sci-fi.

Of course, there is no real artistic intent at play here. The old versions of the characters are placed front and center in the crystal ball simply because Ken traced over Spaziante's original art of Lara-Su and Julie-Su (the only two characters on the Sonic cover he owns) and threw out the rest, ruining the composition in the process. Look at the awkward empty space where Sonic, Sally, and Rotor once were, and the new drawing of The Character Formerly Known As Knuckles who's no longer properly centered between his wife and daughter. Even if Ken can claim ownership of the cover because he did the original layout, this all just feels scummy and lame.

And, yeah, if it needs to be said, the new characters and Ken's new rendering style look like absolute fucking dogshit. Putting new Lara-Su directly next to old Lara-Su does her no favors. The shattered glass effect looks absolutely atrocious. I could go on, but we'll have plenty of time to talk about the art style when we see how bad the stories inside look.

Changes to "Mobius: 25 Years Later"

Overall, 99% of M25YL is presented identically to its original printing. Sonic, Sally, Knuckles, et al. are still present with no changes to their names and no tweaks to the art. Even the original cover for issue #131 is included only a few pages into this book with its Archie, Sonic, and Sega logos still intact and everything. Again, because of the weird copyright situation described above, these preexisting comics can be released without any changes.

There is exactly one bizarre change to the art, though, where a hand drawn shot of Angel Island is replaced with an unfitting photo background and the ugly Floating Island photobash that Ken has been using as his personal logo for decades. I think he only did this as part of a test for his motion comic app that nobody asked for. I don't know why this had to make it into the print version. It's like the book is firing a warning shot for what's to come if you keep reading.

The new content begins on the final page of M25YL. In the original wet fart of a cliffhanger ending, Sonic and co. accidentally alter the timeline with an old time machine of Robotnik's and Lara-Su begins to fade away. Then, after everything goes white, we just cut to the present day heroes going "gee, you ever think about the future?" In this new printing, that last bit has been cut, and the rest of the page has been awkwardly shrunk down so that Ken can fit in a new panel. We now see the hands of an off-screen villain, seemingly named "Override," proclaiming that "the Praetorian" (Knuckles) has messed up the timeline again and that they'll finally get their revenge.

Who is this Override? I have no fucking clue. The new stories in this book make no mention of them. You have to buy the next book to find out.

My confusion over the identity of this villain overlaps with another big problem: name changes. So many names and nouns have been arbitrarily changed in The Lara-Su Chronicles, even ones Ken didn't have to change for copyright reasons, and I only know what half of them are replacing because Ken's been tweeting about this shit for years.

The echidnas are now a totally original alien race called "the Echyd'nya." Even in flashbacks to events from M25YL attempting to mimic the old art style, if it's on a new comic page, they're gonna call themselves "Echyd'nya." Evil echidna faction the Dark Legion is now the "Cyberdark Dominion," hailing from the "Cyberdark Colony." The Brotherhood of Guardians is still the Brotherhood of Guardians, but now the main guardian is called "The Praetorian." Angel Island is still called "The Floating Island," like it was in the older Archie comics, but it's ALSO sometimes called "Avion"? When I read this I wasn't sure if he had randomly renamed Albion, the other echidna city from the Archie comics. But no. Now we have an Albion AND an Avion. Sally is mentioned simply as "Princess Acorn," while Sonic is referenced once as an unnamed "blue-spined Erinaceinae," using the scientific name for hedgehog to make it sound more sci-fi. In an incredibly ballsy move, Ken even mentions Robotnik as "the Insurrectionist Kintobor," retaining his original surname from the Archie comics that's just "Robotnik" backwards. Guess Sega never trademarked that one.

Aside from every name change being a downgrade, this leads to confusion when you're not sure if something is supposed to be new, or if it's just an Archie thing you're supposed to recognize despite having a new name and design. Is "Override" someone I'm supposed to know already? Am I just supposed to have read a fucking tweet from Ken where he said he changed the name of some existing villain to "Override"? The answer is no, but I had to term search his Twitter just to verify this.

Moving on!

New story #1: "The Storm"

If you've been following the WIPs, this is that story about Geoffrey St. John that Ken's been posting previews of for almost a decade. The title page copyright dates it to 2015, and that absurdly long gestation is probably why the art is so inconsistent here. Even the style of speech bubbles and the font change between pages two and three.

This is a problem when there's supposed to be a deliberate and noticeable change in art style here signaling the moment where the time travel stuff alters the timeline, replacing the Archie Sonic world with the Lara-Su Chronicles world. If you don't already know that's what's going on, the idea isn't conveyed clearly at all. It just goes from one hideous art style to a slightly different one with no explanation.

The main problem here is that Ken has hitched his wagon to a franchise about anthropomorphic animals when he can't draw furries to save his life. (Though a bit later in the book we'll also begin to wonder if he can even still draw humans.) He's shifted away from the cartooniness of the original designs and given them more human proportions and facial features, but this just ends up making them look incredibly uncanny and lumpy and gross. With some designs he's trying to lean into more of a Star Trek alien vibe, but then he still insists upon retaining the giant Sonic eyes on most characters even though he has no idea how to make them emote.

The rendering of these godawful designs doesn't do them any favors, either. Ken's going for more of a painterly look now, but it almost seems as though he's shading everything with Photoshop's burn and dodge tools that are designed to darken and lighten select areas of a photo. The result is a muddy, smudgy look that makes it feel like the color layer has been smeared in vaseline. And it only looks worse after coming off of 14 chapters of M25YL that have way more palatable art.

The backgrounds, too, are a complete mess, a jumble of low res jpeg photo elements (sometimes with extremely noticeable pixelation), stock textures, and smooth digital gradients. There's no real sense of place here, and it gives everything a surreal, dreamlike quality when you can't really tell where anything is supposed to take place. This first story is seemingly set in a high-tech stronghold below Castle Acorn called "the Bunker," but it could just as easily be confused for the bridge of a spaceship. This whole story features characters speaking to each other over floating video displays and hologram projectors from three different locations, but without a hologram effect and without a clear sense of where the characters are it often feels like they're just in the same room as each other. Characters will be in one location on one photo background, and then the camera angle changes and they're in a completely different place, because Ken just uses mismatched photos off of the internet. It's been like 25 years since he first tried using photo backgrounds in the Archie comics and he hasn't gotten any better at it.

When I had my boyfriend read the book to see if it made literally any sense to him (it didn't), Anthony said this: "This is the kind of shit I'd see linked on a Second Life world that hasn't been touched since 2004." I think he really hit the nail on the head. Now, there's actually a contrarian part of me that thinks that might theoretically almost be kind of cool, in sort of a messy counterculture way. I love weird indie shit. I was a Homestuck reader! But this isn't a scrappy mixed media zine, or experimental outsider art from someone just messing around with Photoshop, or a loving throwback to weird old internet art, or even something intentionally bizarre and offputting like Xavier: Renegade Angel or a PilotRedSun video or whatever where the fact that it's weird and ugly is part of the humor. This is supposed to be a sincere sci-fi epic drawing on Star Trek and Jack Kirby comics, made by a guy who's been drawing comics professionally since the '80s. This is supposed to look good. This is supposed to compete with mainstream comics that are on sale right now. He thinks any day now IDW's gonna go out of business and Sega will come crawling back to him so that he can stamp the Sonic logo on shit like this. It just doesn't work.

But, okay. It's ugly. We knew it would be ugly. But that ugliness would be much easier to accept if it was in service of an otherwise genuinely good story. So what about the writing? After all this time, how does Ken choose to kick off this new saga? Well, credit where credit's due. "The Storm" feels like a proper continuation of Ken's writing style from M25YL.

Because it's eleven pages of characters standing around and talking while nothing fucking happens.

Here's the synopsis: A dog woman named Brownie, an ensign in the Royal Secret Service fresh out of training and the only character who's almost cute, walks up to Geoffrey to deliver a report. He's immediately suspicious of her, asking who let her in and if she's a spy for Elias (Sally's brother, if you're new here) or Alicia (Sally's mom). The art style suddenly shifts when the timeline is altered, but the scene continues uninterrupted. Geoffrey points a gun at Brownie when she won't say whose spy she is. Geoffrey is distracted by a call and proceeds to have a conversation via a mix of holograms and video screens with Remington (head of Echidnaopolis security), Spectre (Knuckles' great great great great great grandpa, the one with the helmet who always looks evil), and a new scientist character named Dr. Zephyr/Zephur. (The spelling of this character's name changes multiple times throughout the 11-page story, because I guess nine years wasn't enough time to spellcheck this shit.) They say a bunch of made up technobabble nonsense about how it looks like the timeline was just altered and Knuckles and co. seem to be involved. It's complete drivel that I'm not even going to try to make sense of. Everyone decides to investigate further, and the conversation ends. Brownie tells Geoffrey she's his spy, then walks out and implies she's actually Alicia's spy in her inner monologue.

To be continued!!!

Yes, that's it. It's really just a bunch of technobabble where some characters talk about how it seems like the timeline has been fucked with. That's it. The whole time Geoffrey doesn't even get up out of his damn chair, which he's of course sitting in backwards to show how cool he is. It's just 11 pages of Geoffrey sitting in a chair and talking to people and looking uglier than he's ever looked. Nothing happens. Nine years for this.

I'm also struck by how meaningless all of this is to anyone who hasn't read Archie Sonic. The added context from M25YL may help a little, but "The Storm" focuses on characters who weren't in that arc, and the story does very little to introduce who any of them are. Brownie could've been super useful as an inexperienced point of view character who's only meeting the others for the first time here, but instead she's really just a passive observer who's here as part of some kind of 4D chess game between Geoffrey and Alicia, an off-screen character whose motivations in this era of the story are completely unknown to even returning readers. Who are the good guys and bad guys here? What are the conflicts and the stakes of the story moving forward? What do these characters want? Basic questions like this aren't really answered. I can't imagine a new reader being able to make heads or tails of this. Hell, I can't really imagine a returning reader who hasn't been following the last decade's worth of Ken's tweets about this story making heads or tails of it, either.

...Maybe more will happen in the next story?

New story #2: Shattered Tomorrows preview chapter

After another message from Ken, the story of The Lara-Su Chronicles proper begins with the redesigned Lara-Su walking along a jpeg photograph beach at sunset and crying while thinking about how Knuckles - sorry, his name is K'Nox now - is dead.

Yep! Straight into the dad stuff!

Look, I'm the last person to complain about writers getting super personal and drawing from their own baggage in their writing, but Ken's just no fucking good at it. There's no nuance, nothing interesting to say. He just keeps writing mediocre-to-horrible dads whose misdeeds are always justified by their "good intentions," and then sometimes they die and their kids are like "we may have fought but actually you were the bestest dad ever and I'll miss you forever, I'll never be able to fill your shoes!"

This is the only part of the new material here that feels like it has any heart behind it, because I know how much his complex relationship with his late deadbeat father means to Ken (there's an author's note in this outright saying as much). But the guy died 42 years ago, and it doesn't feel like Ken has had any new thoughts about this part of his life in those four decades. He's just not an introspective or self-aware enough artist to actually mine his personal baggage for anything beyond "father knows best."

Anyway, so then it jumps forward in time(?) and now we're following this human guy who looks like this.

Previously, Ken got a lot of shit for literally just using the likeness of Anthony Mackie for this guy, based on his IMDB profile photo. Ken has thus redesigned the character... and by that I mean I think he looks more like Ernie Hudson now? Ken's clearly just working off of photo references (if not straight up tracing), given his face is the most detailed and realistic-looking thing on any page where he's present.

But you may be wondering: who is this, and why is he here? Well, for one, he's here to run around in front of some low res space photos while making trite references to things like Planet of the Apes and Star Trek. Haha, he makes a joke about red shirts! Original!! But beyond that, Commander Mykhal Taelor (yes, that's really how he chose to spell it) is a human... from Earth! Archie Sonic readers are probably confused, because in those comics Mobius is Earth in the distant post-apocalyptic future. Well, despite being a Planet of the Apes fan, Ken always hated that particular worldbuilding decision from Karl Bollers, always preferring to think of Mobius as a separate alien planet. And now he gets to make that canon in his own stories and throw out Karl's ideas. So Mobius is basically just, like, a Star Trek planet now, with its own alien creatures that sometimes just so happen to look like anthropomorphic Earth animals.

Also, at one point Taelor wonders if the inhabitants of the dead Mobius might have been human, and the alien ally he's talking to over the radio says it's unlikely. "I don't understand why your kind has a problem understanding you're a minority within a minority." Perhaps poor wording for a line said to the only Black character in the story.

Anyway, Commander Taelor here seems to have discovered the uninhabited husk of Mobius after the vague time-space cataclysm everyone was worried about in M25YL has come to pass, and he finds an audio log from Lara-Su that I presume will explain what happened. I guess those are the titular Lara-Su Chronicles. In theory this flash forward establishes some sense of pressing danger, but when the threat to the planet is so unclear and technobabble-y it just kind of lands with a thud.

It doesn't take long before we get back to Lara-Su being sad about her dad. A good little chunk of the chapter is spent with this new timeline's Lara-Su recalling moments in her life, including echoes of the original Lara-Su's memories from M25YL, which feels redundant coming hot off the heels of a straight reprint of that entire arc. And boy, for anyone who read the later Archie Sonic comics, the protagonist having vague memories of the old version of the series from before a lawsuit-related timeline reboot sure does sound familiar, huh?

The art inconsistency somehow becomes even worse in this story, with Ken flip-flopping on whether or not he wants to use outlines, with the no-outline art managing to look even worse by relying entirely on Ken's awful rendering. By this point in the book, readers are also likely to start noticing how often Ken reuses art from previous panels. This is a shortcut that tons of comic artists use, of course. Invincible famously did a joke about this. It's often understandable. But, again... it sure does stand out in a book that took 13 years to make with only 30 pages of new art. Amusingly, Ken even manages to combine his inconsistency and recycling problems by reusing the same art with and without outlines. And, of course, any time Ken tries to draw the Archie era designs it's just... the worst.

And, yes, it's in this dreamlike montage sequence of Lara-Su's life that we get...

The uncomfortable family nudity scene, followed by the dual timeline Julie-Su breastfeeding scene.

Yeah, you might have heard about this one already. If this incredibly eerie presentation of Lara-Su's hazy memories of the two different timelines make it hard to tell what's going on, don't worry. There's another, clearer version later in the book as part of Julie-Su's character profile, because I guess Ken was just so proud of it.

(I censored these myself because I'm not playing Russian roulette with Tumblr's inconsistent nudity rules and risking getting banned lmao)

Like, okay. Is a mother breastfeeding her child really that shocking of a thing to see in a story? No, not at all. But, like... when it's two characters who you previously created for an officially licensed Sonic the Hedgehog comic for 7-year-olds... and some of those officially licensed Sonic the Hedgehog comics for 7-year-olds are reprinted in the same book... and when it's drawn like this... yeah, it's kind of a shocker.

It just looks so unnatural. Julie-Su is posed very deliberately so that you'll see both of her breasts, and in the new timeline version she's barely even holding Lara-Su so you can really get a good look at her supermodel body, showing zero physical signs that she just gave birth. Most people will immediately jump to this being Ken putting his fetishes in his work (a type of criticism that I'm incredibly tired of - it's 2024, all the cool artists are blatantly putting their fetishes in their work now). And my immediate response is that, no, this is probably just Ken trying to come off as really mature on a surface level, a thing he's been obsessed with since the Archie days. Free from the shackles of writing a licensed children's comic, of course he's going to jump immediately into depicting some nonsexual, artistic nudity to try and prove he's A Real Mature Artist For Grown-Ups who just thinks the human body is beautiful and breastfeeding shouldn't be a taboo etc. etc.

But then, like. You look at some of the other character designs. Like Espio's daughter Salma, who's now this horrifying alien lizard person who's always nude, and her scale pattern puts scales exactly where her nipples should be. Or you look at his comments about the Echyd'nya age of consent. Or you look at how he keeps drawing Lara-Su in this. Like, does the shuttle really need this, like... reverse chaise lounge thing in the cockpit? So that we can keep getting these shots of the 16-year-old Lara-Su lying on her stomach and posing with one of her legs kicked up, her naked ass in plain view?

The vibe isn't great, is what I'm saying!

I'm not going to try to ascribe authorial intent here. I don't know. I'm not a psychic. Given his very blatant reliance on photo references elsewhere in the book, it's entirely possible he just referenced some figure drawing photos that were maybe just a little too sexy. And also, he's an American comic book artist, and a boomer one at that. Those guys tend to draw women a certain way, even when it's not supposed to be sexual. I don't fucking know. It just sucks. I'm not gonna make some hyperbolic statement about how this makes him a literal pedophile who should be in jail, but it is deeply offputting and objectifying.

But if you already knew about the nursing scenes and were hoping there was some other really shocking stuff in there for me to talk about in this review, sorry to disappoint, but nope. That's the only shockingly weird new thing in here. Once again, not a lot happens in this story, and what does happen is pretty boring.

Once we get past the recap stuff and the human guy, the plot developments boil down to this: The timeline was altered at the end of M25YL... but not as much as you might think. In the new timeline, Knuckles ("K'Nox"), Cobar (now looking significantly younger), and Rotor (now a rhino just called "The Emissary") still traveled via shuttle to go find a time machine in the Badlands and fix the time-space continuum, like in the climax of the original arc. This time, though, Sonic wasn't there, and Lara-Su came along without having to stow away. Lara-Su watches the ship while the grown ups go deal with the time machine, and then after a couple panels Not Rotor comes back with Cobar and is like "Hey, Cobar got hurt, we gotta leave. Dunno what happened to your dad." And then they just, like. Presume that Knuckles must have died. Even though we have no idea what happened to him. And then they just fly away. And then Lara-Su is sad that her dad died.

And that's pretty much it!

This is supposed to be a really emotional sequence - it's literally the scene where Lara-Su learns that Knuckles is dead - but instead it comes off as unintentionally funny because of how poorly it's portrayed. Not showing Knuckles' actual disappearance is a huge misstep, for one, making his uncertain fate more confusing and anticlimactic than dramatic. But also, Ken keeps just using the same two drawings of Rotor for two pages, so he doesn't really seem to be emoting at all, and he's in this spacey hazmat suit that honestly just makes him look like fucking Moltar from Space Ghost. So the whole time I'm just reading his dialogue in Moltar's deadpan voice as he's like "I dunno. We did what we could. Anyway, let's leave."

After this, we get a two-page spread previewing the rest of the story from Shattered Tomorrows. It's basically like a trailer in comic form. It has one of the most mystifying layouts I've ever seen in a comic book. I have no idea what order I'm supposed to read this in.

Yeah, I kinda have a feeling this is the full extent of what Ken has drawn for the rest of that book. I'd love to be wrong, but I fear that I'm right.

Bonus material: Data files

These are mostly very dull, recapping a lot of events shared between Ken's Archie run and the new Lara-Su Chronicles timeline. It seems like almost his entire run is still considered canon to the backstory of the new timeline, just with some names changed, and things only really diverge at the climax of M25YL. But I'll share the interesting stuff here.

Lara-Su

The main thing you'll notice in Lara-Su's profile is the massive, unreadable wall of text where Ken felt the need to list the entire Knuckles family tree, split across both pages.

This is literally so long that Lara-Su's personal history has to awkwardly cut off mid-sentence and be continued on the final page of the book, after the rest of the data files.

Also, please note that this list gives Julie-Su's mom's full name as Mari-Su of the House of Atrades. Incredible on all levels.

There's also a reference to the dark timeline Lara-Su was originally supposed to come from. You know, the one where Julie-Su is the leader of a rebel movement fighting against a Knuckles who had gone mad with power? The timeline that would have been way more interesting than the one in M25YL? Here it seems to have been written off as the result of another "timeline disruption." Lara-Su allegedly has vague memories of this timeline, in the same way that she has vague memories of the M25YL timeline.

Geoffrey

Geoffrey's bio mostly recaps events from the Archie comics, which means the Sonic/Sally/Geoffrey love triangle has to be alluded to. His rivalry with Sonic is described like this:

"He would later resurface when Kintobor was transporting his latest hi-tech weapon, the Dynamac-3000. It was during that mission he discovered a rival for the Princess' affections. Whereas the Princess would be one of a line of conquests where St. John was concerned, the blue-spined Erinaceinae who protested doth a bit too much regarding his affections for the Princess for St. John's taste would prove to be a source of great sport and amusement."

Yes. It's gross. Saying that Geoffrey saw Sally as "one of a line of conquests" is gross. Ken writing this and then still treating Geoffrey as the coolest badass ever is gross. The "Princess Acorn" is also first on the list of Geoffrey's "female relationships" elsewhere in his bio, though I suppose how much of a "relationship" they had is left vague. Honestly, at this point the fact that Ken didn't explicitly confirm that Geoffrey took the underage Sally's virginity in the book comes off as a display of restraint. The bar couldn't be any lower, I know.

Remington

His bio is, frankly, shockingly long for such a minor character, though I guess he does get a large portion of the word salad dialogue in "The Storm." There's a lot of stuff here about how the identities of his biological parents are shrouded in mystery, a plot point that fans have long speculated Ken just straight up forgot about in his time at Archie. (Ian confirmed that Kragok from the Dark Legion was Remington's dad, though, so this isn't really much of a mystery.)

Lien-Da

She gets a bio even though she's not present in the two new stories, just so we get to look at her awful new design and compare it to how Steven Butler drew her earlier in the book:

Commander Taelor

We get to see two drawings of him with the same exact Ernie Hudson face side by side! That's fun.

Julie-Su

She gets a list of "known friends," but the only character listed is Knuckles' mom. Poor Julie-Su.

Also, Ken feels the need to reiterate that Knuckles and Julie-Su are still distant cousins. He made a whole new timeline where he can change whatever details he wants, but THAT had to remain canon. Thanks, Ken.

And then after the data files we get the special thanks page, listing everyone who preordered the book and/or bought TLSC merch from Ken.

With my name on the list. Because I had to buy a copy to cover it for the blog.

My name is on the very next page right after the breastfeeding panel in Julie-Su's data file.

Yep. He got me.

Is it at least a well put together book? Like, in terms of manufacturing quality?

Its physical quality is... fine. It's a nice, sturdy hardcover. The print quality seems fine, though mine does have a bit of smudging from some sort of printing error on one page. The pages don't seem like they'll fall out on me. The image quality is crisp. The colors are vibrant. This is a low bar, but this is one of the few places where I'm able to give this book anything resembling praise.

The formatting and graphic design work, on the other hand...

(I didn't crumple those page corners, it came like that.)

For one, the placement and sizes of the M25YL pages is inconsistent, largely due to the fact that the book doesn't actually match the proportions of a comic. A lot of pages aren't properly centered vertically. Some pages go all the way up to the top edge of the paper, while others leave a visible gap of about half a centimeter. Every page has a 1cm gap to its left and right, which is sometimes filled in with a solid color or gradient that doesn't quite match the page it's surrounding. I have to assume Ken didn't have any sort of source files or original artwork to work off of, as those ideally would've had more generous bleed to account for slight shifts in printing. It kind of seems like he just got the highest resolution versions he could find of the digital releases online and printed those. The colors are a dead ringer for the digital versions, which have always looked slightly more saturated and pastel than they did in print.

I can't say this bodes well for his further plans for Archie Sonic reprints - sorry, Mobian Line reprints. If they ever come out, please, for the love of god, do not buy those. I don't care how much you love Archie Sonic, they aren't going to be good reprints. For comparison, IDW's similarly priced hardcover Sonic collections have none of these formatting problems, because they're made by people who know what they're doing with access to the actual source files.

The book also has its fair share of text-focused pages, split between the data files and messages directly from Ken about the history of his career and this project, and these are formatted in the most amateurish way possible. Just massive walls of Arial text over either plain white backgrounds, simple gradients, or faded photos. I've seen school yearbooks with better graphic design. Even ignoring my subjective feelings about the art and stories within, this book does not feel like it's worth $36 USD.

It's frankly shocking how shabby he let this thing look considering it's supposed to be his baby. And doesn't that really sum it all up?

Closing thoughts

Obviously, I did not expect this to be any good. But I'm still left kind of dumbfounded by it.

I think what really strikes me about it is that Ken had a blank check to do whatever he wanted here. He got an opportunity many writers would kill for when he gained complete ownership of his most famous work. He's free from the limitations of a monthly licensed comic book for children, free to make whatever creative decisions he wants without editors or other writers or Sega to worry about, free to completely reinvent the series to his heart's content and finally tell the story of his dreams. And with that opportunity and 13 years of his time, he made... this. A direct continuation of "Mobius: 25 Years Later" that barely changes anything about the characters or world beyond their awful new designs, even though much of the word count is spent rambling about how the timeline has changed. A story that makes zero concessions for new readers, or even returning readers who don't already have the last decade's worth of Ken's tweets explaining his creative decisions burned into their memory. 30 pages where nothing really happens and the story barely moves forward an inch despite the decades-long wait - but maybe something will happen if you buy the next book!

Who is this for? Maybe this really is a project for no one but Ken. Maybe he just really, really wants to finish the story he started, a story that's personal to him due to the family history it evokes, and the number of people who enjoy it or buy it beyond that is irrelevant. I think that many of the best artists are incredibly self-indulgent ones working with that exact mindset, artists whose enthusiasm for their own work jumps off the page or screen. So, if that's the case, then why the fuck isn't he telling the damn story? What's stopping him? Why is he still spinning his wheels? Where is that passion for his own work? Because it sure as hell isn't there on the page. There's a huge part of me that really wishes I could say "Man, what a weirdo, but you do you, Ken. You tell your weird little story." But there's barely any story here. It's like he loves styling himself as a storyteller, but he's terrified of finally having to actually tell a story after all this time. He's still stuck in the exact same mode of writing he was in almost 30 years ago when he was doing 6-page backup stories about Knuckles, just killing time and stringing readers along until he's eventually able to truly realize his vision. If not now, then when, Ken?

Even the back cover blurb is mostly just a dry recap of the history of this thing. It was a Sonic comic, the original arc was published in these issues, it went unfinished, Ken left Archie, the lawsuits happened, now he's continuing the story. There's nothing about why anyone should give a shit about this as its own story, even though Ken has spent years trying in vain to convince people TLSC is its own beast that shouldn't be judged as a Sonic story. I think deep down he knows that there's no pitch for this beyond the novelty of it originating from Sonic. And that's why, despite declaring that he'd leave the site, he's still on Twitter riling up Sonic fans. It's the only attention he gets at this point.

Maybe this is too harsh when those 30 pages of new comics are just intended as a preview for the "real" book. But the elephant in the room is that we have no idea if that "real" book will ever actually come out, let alone the entire series of seven graphic novels that will supposedly complete this saga.

Ken is undeniably a complete jackass and all around unpleasant, vindictive person who's rightly become an industry pariah. He's a self-proclaimed paragon of progressive values who'll send Comicsgaters after his successors for the crime of not worshiping the ground he walks on, and then turn around and announce he's going to reprint their work without even consulting them. He's a sore winner who already won his copyright battle on a level most comic writers would never dare to dream of, and yet still won't truly be satisfied until he sees an entire major comic publisher go out of business, putting god knows how many people out of work, because he thinks this would get him back the license to a video game franchise he doesn't even like.

But I still have to pity him.

As an artist, the trajectory of his life is my nightmare. I think all of us fear dying before we can tell all the stories we want to tell. There's simply never enough time to do everything. And here's Ken in his 60s, talking about how he's still planning on making his magnum opus all by himself out of stubbornness and pride, despite demonstrably proving he can't handle the workload, and also talking about how if he dies before the project can be finished he'll have to pass the torch on to his kids and get them to finish it for him. It's so grim. Even just typing that sends a shiver down my spine. It took nine years of his limited time on Earth to finish and release an 11-page comic about Geoffrey St. John sitting backwards in a chair.

This is a purgatory of his own creation. And yet... I'm not sure he's ever been prouder. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

I guess if I want people to take anything away from this review, it's this:

Lesson one: If you're an artist or writer of some kind, or an aspiring creator, don't wait around. No one else is going to tell your story for you. Start writing that novel. Start drawing that webcomic. Start making that game. If Penders can put out this damn book that no one asked for after 13 years of work, then proudly proclaim that he's still going to make six or seven more books and also reprint hundreds of comics he doesn't have all of the rights to, then show up to cons with that foul Lara-Su Chronicles: Shattered Tomorrows banner and sit in front of it beaming with pride, fully aware of his critics but saying "fuck 'em, I know I'm hot shit," then you can do fucking anything. Tell the weird, sincere, cringe story of your dreams. If Ken Penders doesn't have imposter syndrome, then nobody should.

And lesson two: Don't buy Ken's books.

#tkp post #tlsc #tlsc beginnings

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zyafics · 2 months ago

Note

Hi, zya! I love your writing and I love 'whatever she wants' the most! I was wondering if you could do a jealousy bitchy!kook!reader and rafe? if not, it's okay!!

i should be studying.

HER WAY | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Oneshot)

Pairing — Rafe x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader

Content — 18+, smut, power/dominance play, jealousy, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, and Reader being a spoiled princess.

Word Count — 2.4K

lıllılı Her Way by PARTYNEXTDOOR

Rafe Cameron thinks he’s funny.

He thinks it’s a joke. Some sick foreplay where he can get you to submit.

Across the room, during a house party, Rafe allows another woman to touch him. She isn’t being discrete; her nails graze the length of his bicep, head tilts with a sultry smile, and she’s giggling at everything he says—when you know for a fact, he isn’t that fucking funny. While you’re sipping on a fruity drink with your girlfriends, your boyfriend entertains a random skank from who knows where.

Rafe leans against the wall, holding a beer bottle with his hand, and while his body language doesn’t exude invitation, Skank takes it as one. Stepping closer, chest nearly touching his, her hand travels to the open top button of his Ralph Lauren shirt, meeting skin.

Before you can stop yourself, you cross the room, grab a handful of her hair, and yank it back. She winces in pain, hands cradling her scalp, as you toss her to the side. She stumbles backward, hitting the couch's armrest, before meeting your vicious glare and scurrying away.

Rafe’s mouth curls with amusement.

You huff. “You think you’re cute?”

“I’ve been told to be pretty,”

Ever since that party, where Rafe claimed you as his, you’ve enjoyed the exclusiveness of being a pampered princess in his arms. But you forgot about the reputation he boasts. The roster he owns. Rafe thinks you’ll easily concede because he has a long list of women who’d flock to him?

Think again.

“Fuck you, Rafe,” you sneer, “We’re not fucking tonight.”

You don’t wait for a response before turning away, discovering Topper sitting on a nearby couch, witnessing the entire conversation.

“Top, take me home,” you command with a flick of your manicured finger, taking a step towards the door.

Following orders, Topper stands while Rafe glares at his best friend. “Top, don’t,” he commands lowly, causing you to halt your steps and glance over your shoulder at the stagnant dog. Topper sits back down.

“Top, let’s go.” You order, a sharpness coating your tongue that scares the young blond. Once again, he rises to his feet.

“Topper, sit,” Rafe snaps, the roughness of his tone edges with darkness. Topper, unsure of what to do, settles midair, not completely reclaiming his seat.

You let out a frustrated groan. Rafe pushes himself off the wall and steps closer. “I’ll take you home.”

“Go entertain your skank,” you snap, glancing back to Topper. “Are you coming or not?”

He doesn’t move. From the look on his face, he’s more afraid of Rafe, and that agitates you further. A man who’s pathetically bounded to the whims of his best friend’s calling. This is why you could never be with someone like Topper.

You aren’t sure you want to be with someone like Rafe either.

“Fine,” you toss your hands in the air, “I’ll order an Uber.”

With quick strides to an exit and a half-hearted farewell to your girlfriends, you leave the party. Nighttime during the summer contrasts with the day's humid heat, and meets your skin with a shivering cold. You wrap your jacket closer around your arms, pulling out your phone and swiping through the screen.

Music fades in the background with each furthering step, and an accompanying noise of rapid footsteps follows after you.

“Come on, doll,” Rafe coaxes, his voice inching closer. He’s taller, his stride faster, so that it easily matches yours in a matter of seconds.

“Don’t start with me,” you say, still loading up the app, the blinking circle loads as your patience wears thin.

“I’ll take you home.”

“You’ve lost that privilege.”

“Top can’t take you home,” Rafe declares with a bite of annoyance, trailing you as you make your way down the driveway, meeting the asphalt road.

You toss a look over your shoulder, “Why not? You’re flirting with him, too?”

Rafe huffs. “Because it’ll be a fucking riot if my friend takes my girlfriend home.”

“Ex-girlfriend,”

“Don’t say that.” Rafe captures your wrist, stalling your pursuit. He steps in front of you, chin tipped downwards, his cerulean eyes meet yours, and a sincere look passes through his expression. “You’re my girl.”

You snatch back your arm as if his touch burns.

“You want to know something, Rafe?” You demand, clicking your phone off, “You think I’m like your past girlfriends. That I’m willing to tolerate things like this because,” your voice twists into mockery, “Rafe Cameron’s giving me attention,” you scoff. “You would be so lucky to have me.”

Resuming your walk, you finally catch a signal and order an Uber. But it blinks again, waiting, filtering, passing through another stream of misconnection that leaves you steaming at the side of your road because you refuse to walk home in your expensive Louis Vuitton heels.

A familiar car slides into your view a few moments later and rolls down the passenger window.

“Get in,” Rafe commands.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

“So fucking stubborn,” he mutters under his breath as he exits the car and rounds the bonnet. Eyes widening, you twist to run, but Rafe snatches your waist, tosses you over his shoulders, and shoves you inside the car.

He clicks the safety belt and returns to his side. With a flick of his wrist, he shifts into drive and heads down the road.

You begrudgingly accept your fate in the passenger seat. Awful rap music plays from his stereo, contrasting the agitated mood you’re in, to the point you turn off the radio and throw the disk into the backseat.

Rafe chuckles.

The drive to your house is silent, forcing you to mellow in your anger. Rafe tried to talk, but you refuse to look at him, refuse to give him a spec of validation. When he parks, it isn’t a full stop before you rip off the seatbelt, head to the door, key already in hand.

You slam the door on his face, and it works—for three seconds—before he produces his own copy and enters. Another wild chase ensues where you quickly ascend up the spiral staircase, slide into your bedroom, and lock your door behind with a loud bang.

Good luck getting in now, asshole.

After you remove your jewelry, strip down, and replace your clothes with a silk pajama set, Rafe knocks on your door.

“Baby,” he says softly on the other side of the hardwood, “Let me in.”

“Go home,” you shout, but you don’t want him to. You want him to fight, to beg for your forgiveness, to hang around like a lost puppy. If he does leave, you’re sure it’ll leave you more infuriated. “I don’t want to see your face.”

Rafe doesn’t answer, and your heart twists. Until he knocks again, knuckles rapping against the hardwood in soft, dejected clicks. “I was wrong.”

Exhaling sharply, you walk across the floor and unlock the door, but stand in the entryway, not yet granting him access.

It shouldn’t be possible, but Rafe looks deviously handsome, even after the whole cat-and-mouse game, and it makes you furious that he can never seem to be disheveled by your acts. Quite possibly, Rafe Cameron is the only man on earth who can handle your attitude.

You cross your arms. “I’m listening,”

“For what?”

You huff, “Are you not going to apologize?”

“For your jealousy?”

You shove the door closed, but Rafe plants a firm palm out.

“Let me make up to you.”

“Why? We’re not together.”

He groans, “Stop saying that.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” You snap, “A good boyfriend doesn’t entertain shanks while their girlfriend is across the room. A good boyfriend apologizes when they’re wrong.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“A good girlfriend doesn’t sit around with her girlfriends while her boyfriend wants her around. A good girlfriend doesn’t act like a brat in front of his friends.”

You scoff, “Then it’s settle, then.”

“Sure is.”

“Get out.”

“No,”

You attempt to close the door again, but he shoves inside, shouldering the door until he passes the threshold. Your eyes widen as you step backward, but Rafe grabs your face in his large hands, the callouses of his palms contrast with the softness of your skin, and you sigh fondly.

Your gaze connects with his, and while his breath reeks with peppermint and cheap beer, his eyes are sincere. “Let me make it up to you,” he whispers.

Heart thumping in your chest, “You want to make it up to me?”

“Yes.”

“Beg for forgiveness.”

He reels back, releasing your face, causing you to desperately miss his touch. “Fuck, no.”

“Fine,” you say, stepping back, unblocking your top button-by-button, each revealing another silver of skin. Soft silk slips from your shoulders, and you reveal the lacy red bralette that’s his favorite. “You see this?”

Rafe nods, his eyes following your hands as you trace the hems of your shorts, pushing them down enough to show him the matching red panties. “Yes.”

You snap the band back in place, “You’ll never touch me again.”

You don’t know how it happens. One second, you’re turning away from him, and in the next, Rafe tosses you onto the mattress, laying you flat against the sheets.

His large, warm palms planted on either side of your thighs, Rafe settles on his knees at the edge of the bed—the position you wanted him in—with his hands sliding up the bands of your shorts, tugging them down slowly, needfully.

“Let me eat you out.”

“Only good boys get to do that.”

"Let me be a good boy,” he all but begs. Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk. You hide your expression as you gently lift your hips, allowing Rafe to pull down your shorts and panties in one quick swoop. A shiver passes down your spine at the way his eyes stares at your exposed pussy, the whip of the low-blowing AC fanning against your heating skin.

His thumb travels between your legs, rubbing broad circles for the inside of your thighs, and your pussy flutters with need. Rafe lowers himself, spreading you further apart, as his hot breath fans against your cunt, and his thumb finally grazes your wet folds.

“So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs, more to himself than you.

Breathlessly, you ask, “Are you going to do something about it?”

His gaze lifts, pupils dilated to pitch-black, before he lowers his head and covers his mouth on your clit.

He sucks, tastes, and plays—but the thing about Rafe Cameron eating pussy is he’s nasty; his tongue strokes your swollen nub, his fingers teasing your holes, and he sucks so sloppily, your slick forms a pool on your sheets.

He slurps up your arousal like a thirsty man returning from the desert, squelching noises echoing from your walls, while your legs clenched around his head. He does it so well, it seems like it’s purely for his own enjoyment.

Writhing and grabbing the sheets, our head tips into the silk pillow, as Rafe tightens his arms around your hips, keeping you in place. Moans and whimpers slipping out your mouth in pure desperation, you can feel the faint smile of Rafe’s grin against your cunt as you chase your high.

At the peak of your carnal desire, Rafe pulls away.

“Say you forgive me,” he declares, his tongue kissing your slick slit with kitten licks. Breathless, you’re unable to comprehend his words.

“What?”

‘Say you forgive me, doll,” he declares, his thick digits teasing your entrance in a way that has you lifting your hips, begging for more friction. But he carefully anchors you with his arms, biceps wrapped around your thighs. “And you can come.”

“No,”

“No?” He asks mockingly, his mouth meeting your swollen clit again, sucking for a faint second before withdrawing his hot mouth. You squirm under his touch. “I can’t hear you.”

“N–no,” you stammer, but Rafe is rubbing tight circles against your clit again, knowing the right pressure to add that has you at the palm of his hand, but not inching closer to release. “Rafe.”

“Maybe you don’t want to come that badly,” Rafe taunts, pulling again. Your body clenches at the denied orgasm. “Maybe you need another lesson.”

“No,” you wrap your legs around Rafe’s shoulders, trapping him, and your fingers thread through his tousled hair, pushing him back against your needy cunt. Resolve cracks. “I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.”

You don’t see it, but you feel him grinning, and his mouth latches back on your clit, fastening to towards a much-needed orgasm in lightning speed. Your high reached, you never came so hard before, so quickly, and you’re messy, dirty, and heaving as Rafe withdraws from between your legs.

Rafe meets your gaze as you pant, “Want to return the favor?”

Chest rising and falling, you nod and pull your weak legs to stand. You force him to stand too, and your fingers trace the bands of his jeans as you step forward. He steps back. It’s a dance, like you’re about to screw him against the wall, until he crosses the threshold of your room and you slam the door on his face, locking it.

The doorknob rattles.

He calls your name, but you lean back against the doorframe, needing it to steady you upright with heaving breaths. “What the fuck?” Rafe demands.

“Sleep on the couch tonight,” you say with a hint of a smile.

“You said you forgive me,”

“It’s dirty talk,”

He shouts your name again, but you don’t concede. Rafe has two options: listen to your orders, or leave.

By next morning, you had the best sleep. Unlocking your door, Rafe is nowhere to be seen. Disappointment clouds your chest at the thought that he left after all, but when you descend the staircase, you find your favorite flowers covering every inch of your foyer to your living room, with your favorite breakfast plate made on the marble island, and a jewelry box sitting beside it.

Smiling, you settle on the bar stool, as Rafe exits from the guest bathroom, approaches you, and kisses your cheek.

“What’s this?” You ask, tilting your head.

“An apology,” he declares.

“Know what you did wrong?”

He nods.

“I’m sorry, doll,” he murmurs, “Won’t happen again.”

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

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trianglegoddess · 1 year ago

Text

Feral McGee™

It starts with the Joker.

His goons picked up Tim Drake. Not specifically because it was Tim Drake, he just so happened to be in the Joker’s neighborhood, and we'll, he can't pass up that opportunity now can he?

Except Tim Drake is watching, along with the rest of Gotham, at the Batcomputer. He’s nursing a broken foot and has been put on monitor duty until he's cleared for field work again.

The guy looks enough like him, though. Black hair, blue eyes, and bags under his eyes for days. He's also got the same lean sort of build like he does.

It happens like this.

The Joker is doing his monologue thing where he explains whatever twisted game he's come up with this time. He takes up the majority of the screen, so nobody can see Not-Tim behind him, not until the big reveal. Then he covers the screen again, getting up close and personal, before stepping back. In those quick few seconds, Not-Tim is no longer sitting there tied to the chair.

Someone off camera lets the Joker know, and he whirls around, confused as the rest of Gotham.

And then Not-Tim comes in with the steel chair.

Or, well, a crowbar, but the reference holds up.

He takes out one of Joker’s knees before punching him in the face. The Joker drops like a bag of stones, out cold.

Then he looks towards the camera.

“Hey there. I'm not really sure where I am, but also if he was after Tim Drake, he got the wrong guy. I'm not him, I'm just some dude. Anyway, I'll just-yep-” he carefully steps over the unconscious Joker, gives the camera a little wave, and then leaves.

Batman and Nightwing enter shortly after, with the Joker and his goons out cold and tied up. The knots were complicated enough where, in the end, the police resorted to cutting the ties off of them so they could be properly cuffed and taken to Arkham.

“A constrictor knot,” Batman tells Nightwing as they watch the villain be taken away. “Often used by sailors to temporarily tie things together to keep something in a bag, or to hold something to glue it back together.”

“Huh,” Nightwing says, scratching the back of his head. “Go figure.”

—

The next time it happens, it’s the Riddler.

He’s laughing, giving his riddles to the Bats and recording himself to all of Gotham while his victim, one of the Wayne brats, hangs over a vat of something. From a distance, he looks like Tim Drake, or maybe a lankier Dick Grayson. And he’s not the only victim, they’re all scattered across the city, but he thought an important figure such as a Wayne should be under the Riddler’s direct supervision while he enacts his schemes.

While the Riddler cackles and plots and waves his cane around, in the background all of Gotham can see the figure escape. Several Gothamites recognize him as the kid from before, who clocked the Joker. They all watch with bated breath as he sort of wiggles his way out of the ropes holding him up. Once he’s free, he climbs the rope and gets himself down safely.

Gotham holds their breath as the kid casually walks up to the Riddler, who’s mid-rant. He politely taps him on the shoulder, and as the Riddler is turning around, the kid clocks him just as brutally as he had the Joker. He’s down with one punch.

They think he’s going to say another sort of awkward goodbye, but instead he pats the Riddler down until he finds a piece of paper tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Right,” the kid says, looking at the list. There’s a lot more static overlay now, and several wonder if it’s damage to the cameras. “Uh, the Clocktower, the Docks, and-” he squints at the page for a moment-”Mama Nacaroni’s? What the fuck is that? Anyway, uh. See you later, I guess. Oh! And we’re at the Gotham Arena. Have fun with him, I guess.”

The kid tosses the paper off to the side before the camera cuts to black.

Just like last time, everyone is out cold and tied up. The Riddler himself is sporting a pretty bad shiner, but well deserved nonetheless.

“Stop it,” Red Hood tells him. Batman just looks at him, and though Hood can’t see the top half of his face, he can tell that his eyebrow is raised. “You know exactly what I mean, B. Put the adoption papers away.”

“Hn.”

—

After that, it sorta becomes a game. The rogues of Gotham are no longer after a Wayne, or after anybody who holds any kind of social status like usual. They’re all going after this one kid, all determined to be the one to hold him. And each one is televised.

Mr. Freeze freezes him in a block of ice, but due to the cameras glitching out, nobody can really see how he got free. They do, however, see the kid suplex Mr. Freeze. It should seem impossible, given his lanky figure, but he evidently has more muscle than he’s originally let on.

Two-Face gets a hold of him, using chains and some power-dampening cuffs just on the off-chance that he’s a meta. They all watch as the kid leans down, pulls a bobby pin out of his hair, and picks the locks on his cuffs. One punch, and Two-Face is down.

Gothamites are going wild for the kid. They’ve dubbed him Feral McGee™ (an online poll, of course), because every time he goes in for the punch he gets this feral look in his eyes. Also, just the fact that he casually goes up to these rogues and takes them out with all the casualness of doing something incredibly mundane? Incredible. The Gothamites are eating it up. However, despite the video evidence, nobody has been able to properly identify the kid. They know he has black hair and bright eyes, but any time he gets near a camera, it’s like there’s this weird, sort of warped quality the camera takes on. It doesn’t usually calm down until the fight is done-as one sided as they usually are-before he awkwardly skedaddles away.

He gets kidnapped by the Penguin, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy (though that was more just a friendly chat than anything), Mad Hatter, and the Riddler again.

And then the Joker escapes.

It’s no surprise as to who he’s going to go after.

Due to one too many careless goons, they manage to find their way to the Joker’s hideout pretty quickly. This time, it’s all Bats on deck, and they all hide away in the rafters as Feral McGee™ is hung over a vat of acid. His whole body is tied up, hardly a single inch of exposed skin to be seen except for the neck up.

They watch the goons, they watch the Joker, and they watch Feral McGee™.

The Joker is monologuing, practically begging the bats to come find him before the timer runs out. When it does, the kid gets dumped into the vat of acid.

Despite these stakes, the kid seems to be only mildly annoyed.

“Fuck this, I have homework I still need to finish,” they hear him say.

They all watch, amazed and confused, as the kid starts gnawing through the ropes. Human teeth shouldn’t be able to do that so easily, but one bit after the other, and soon enough the kid’s got himself freed enough to just climb up the rest of the rope. When he’s at the top of the crane holding him up, Batman lets down a rope and pulls the kid up and out of danger.

“Oh, cool, you’re all here,” the kid says casually, as if meeting the entire Bat Clan is just a normal Tuesday. And then he pulls out a notepad and pen and hands it to Red Hood.

“Can I get an autograph? You’re dope as fuck, dude.”

Red Hood has to look away and hide his face in his arms for a few moments to not give away their location with his laughter before signing. And then, one by one, the others do as well. They pass along the kid’s notebook with shit-eating grins and barely contained snickers despite the fact that the Joker is still right below them. Even Batman signs it, after his children don’t stop hounding him about it.

In their distraction, they didn’t see the kid sneak away. He’s far away from them now, nearly right over the Joker. Danny waits, though, until the Joker has turned around as the timer almost runs out. They watch as he snickers at Joker’s flabbergasted look. The Joker comically looks back and forth and under objects the kid obviously isn’t under. However, before he can do or say anything else, the kid drops from the rafters and right on top of the Joker. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. The kid, however, just brushes the dust off of himself. Despite the fall he took, there isn’t a scratch on him.

When the bats join him, they give his notepad back to him, barely able to contain their laughter at the absurdity of it all. The kid, too, joins in the camaraderie, laughing and joking along with them as Batman secures the Joker.

“Okay, okay, but I gotta ask, dude,” Red Hood says at one point, looking at the kid. “How do you keep getting kidnapped?”

The kid just shrugs. “I get distracted easily. And I’m sleep deprived, so you know. Social awareness is kind of at an all time low right now.”

“Why are you sleep deprived?” Nightwing asks, barely hidden concern in his voice.

“Finals are kinda kicking my ass right now. Especially this dumb English homework I have. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, lucky for you,” Red Hood says, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders as he walks them out of the warehouse, “I happen to know a lot about English. So, it is Shakespeare?”

“Yeah, Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

As they walk off, Batman calmly watches, though the rest of the bats can see his jaw twitching. Nightwing comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“If you don’t adopt him, I will.”

“Hn.”

#danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #bruce wayne #dc #batclan #batfam #joker #danny is a feral human #dp x dc #dc x dp

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botanicsoul · 3 months ago

Text

The Secretary

agedup! Katsuki Bakugou x (Fem) Reader

MDNI!! (18+)

description: Your entire world flips when you become the explosive hero’s secretary. In the world of high stakes and even higher tension, will you be able to resist his pull, or will you find yourself lost in the heat of it all?” (this bitch is loooooong)

❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❀ ❊ ✿

Pro Hero Dynamight has always been known to overwork at his agency.

Go above and beyond until something is perfect. Every file, every mission plan, every recruit—flawless or you’re wasting his damn time. He doesn’t do breaks. He doesn’t do patience. And he sure as hell doesn’t do mistakes.

People line up to work for him.

Because once you’ve worked under Dynamight, you can work anywhere. You’ve been sharpened by fire. Agencies compete for people who survive even six months at his side.

But just because everyone wants the job doesn’t mean they keep it.

He doesn’t notice most of his staff—doesn’t care to. The only people who get a fraction of his attention are his sidekicks and his PA team. The rest of you? Replaceable. Background.

That’s what you were. Just background.

A newly hired secretary brought in to replace the last one—fired, rumor has it, for leaving a single classified folder out overnight. You were pulled from a random list. No connections, no special qualifications. Just a name picked in a moment of desperation.

And from the beginning, you kept your head down.

Did your job. Stayed quiet. Didn’t try to get in his way. You figured if you didn’t bother him, you’d survive longer than the last girl.

And for a while, it worked.

Until he looked at you.

⸻

It was barely a glance, the first time. You were handing him a folder, and your fingers brushed his. That was it.

But the next day, he asked for you by name. “y/n go to this next meeting for me in 40 minutes and take some notes have it on my desk by 3”

The day after that? He called you into his office to retype a document you knew damn well his PA could’ve handled. He started showing up at your desk more. Asking questions. Staring a little too long when you answered.

No one said anything, but the change was obvious.

Your name started circulating in whispers.

Not in a good way.

Because Dynamight had a reputation. Not just for being a perfectionist or a hard-ass—but for being a flirt. The kind who smiled in interviews and left parties with models on his arm. He was cocky, crude, and didn’t hide the fact that he could get whoever he wanted. He was in the tabloids almost as much as he was on the news. You weren’t his type. Not even close. So whatever attention he was giving you? It had to be temporary.

⸻

Recently one of your male co-workers had been interacting with you a little more than usual lately. He’d stop by your desk for small talk, lingering longer than necessary and dropping subtle hints of flirting—hints you quickly brushed off.

One afternoon, as he stood by your desk chatting about the new coffee shop that had just opened a few blocks from the agency, you heard the unmistakable sound of heavy, aggressive footsteps echoing through the hallway. The air shifted. The floor seemed to still as the explosion hero’s voice cut through the buzz of conversation like a blade.

“Kato,” Dynamight said dryly, voice low but so loud and commanding that it echoed across the entire floor. “Leave my secretary alone and get the hell back to work.”

Everything went quiet.

You could feel the eyes of your coworkers flicking between you and Bakugou, the tension thick in the air. Kato blinked, visibly flinching before muttering something under his breath and practically scrambling away. After that? Silence. No more desk visits. No more awkward compliments. He disappeared.

A few days passed, then a week. You hadn’t realized just how quiet it had been until you were in the break room, talking with Yumi, one of the only people you were actually close with at work. She was leaning against the counter, sipping her tea when you brought it up.

“Hey, Yumi,” you said casually, trying to sound nonchalant as you stirred your drink. “Have you seen Kato around? Last time we talked, he mentioned grabbing coffee at that new place nearby.”

Yumi gave you a look over her cup. “Oh? You don’t know?”

You blinked. “Know what?”

She lowered her voice, leaning in slightly like she was about to share a secret. “After Dynamight yelled at him, Kato got transferred to the other floor—support tech. Apparently he asked for it himself.”

Your eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Word is he went to HR the same day. Said something about ’not wanting to interfere with higher-up dynamics.’” She raised an eyebrow meaningfully. “You ask me? I think he got the message loud and clear—and maybe a little scared. Bakugou doesn’t exactly play subtle.”

You felt your cheeks warm, not sure if it was from embarrassment or something else entirely. You looked away, but Yumi smirked.

“He’s totally territorial over you, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart was beating just a little faster. “He’s my boss.”

Yumi laughed. “Right. And I’m just here for the free snacks.”

⸻

Things started getting more odd after you grabbed your paycheck, scanning it quickly. Your eyes widen. There’s an extra $200 in there. What the hell?

You head straight to HR, a bit confused. “Hey, I think you guys messed up my pay. There’s, uh, an extra amount in here.”

The HR rep looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “No, we didn’t mess up. You got the raise from the boss yesterday. Didn’t you know?”

You blink. “A raise? From Dynamight?”

They nod. “Yeah. He approved it. It’s all there. So… enjoy the extra cash?”

You stand there for a moment, trying to process it. He didn’t say anything about a raise.

Later, you march into Bakugou’s office. He looks up from his desk, not even bothering to look surprised.

“Aren’t you supposed to be re-organizing those files? I told you I needed that done today y/n” he grumbles, like it’s just another day.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were giving me a raise?” you ask, arms crossed. “I went to HR, and they said it’s from you. You just… threw in a $200 bump like it was nothing?”

He shrugs, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah, and?. You’ve been working hard, so you get a bump. Don’t make it a big deal.”

You stare at him, trying to hide the confusion. “But you couldn’t have just said something, I thought it was a true and honest mistake? I didn’t want to get in trouble or anything.”

“Not my problem. It’s in your paycheck. Deal with it,” he grunts, turning his attention back to his papers.

“But I-“ you were quickly cut off by his desk phone ringing.

“y/l/n can’t you just fuckin’ thank me? now get back to work don’t ever question me again” he says before answering the phone.

You stand there, a little speechless. You eventually turn around and leave his office just to sit at your desk still confused as ever.

⸻

work had been piling up, you started staying later than usual at nights. But this night was different.

It was supposed to be simple—just a few files left to organize, highlight, and prep for tomorrow morning. Everyone else on the floor had cleared out hours ago. You liked the quiet. No one breathing down your neck. Just your thoughts and the occasional creak of the building.

Then the elevator dinged.

You didn’t look up until you heard the crash—something hard slamming against the wall near the lift.

And then, there he was.

Him.

Pro Hero Dynamight. In full gear. Hair still wild from battle, jaw tight—and in his arms? A woman.

Not just any woman. A model. One you’d seen in magazines, ads, maybe even a billboard or two. And they weren’t just walking. They were clawing at each other, lips locked, her dress hitched halfway up her thighs. His hands all over her.

He didn’t even glance your way—until he did.

Right as he shoved open his office door.

His eyes locked on you. Smoldering. Unbothered. Maybe even a little amused.

And then he shut the door behind them. Click.

Seconds passed. Then minutes. Then you heard it.

The moaning. The banging. The desperate, ugly sounds of sex through that too-thin wall, and you didn’t even hesitate. You gathered your things, barely breathing, and booked it for the elevator before your face could give anything away. You didn’t look back.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way he stared at you.

Like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

⸻

The next morning, you came in earlier than usual—half-hoping, half-praying you wouldn’t have to see him.

Your desk felt different. Like it had absorbed last night’s shame. The pens in your cup were crooked. The light too bright. You reorganized your files twice just to stop your hands from shaking.

You told yourself he wouldn’t bring it up.

He wouldn’t have to.

Because it meant nothing.

To him, it was just another Tuesday night. Another random girl. Another fuck.

And then… you saw him.

Striding across the hallway from his office—jacket slung over his shoulder, hair freshly wet from a shower, and a goddamn coffee in hand like he hadn’t just traumatized you twelve hours ago.

He didn’t even look at you. Not at first.

He passed your desk with that same practiced indifference, talking to a sidekick about an upcoming mission, barely blinking. You exhaled. Maybe it was just another night. Maybe he really didn’t care.

Then, without warning, he stopped mid-step. Turned his head just slightly. Your blood ran cold. But he kept walking. That was it. That tiny little jab, buried so deep it wouldn’t make sense to anyone else—but you knew.

He knew. And now he was watching to see what you’d do with it.

⸻

You didn’t do anything. What could you do?

You buried yourself in your work. Avoided his gaze when he passed your desk. Ignored the little smirk that tugged at his mouth every time your fingers trembled while handing him a report. You told yourself it would fade—that he’d get bored and move on.

But he didn’t. He kept finding reasons to come by. Most times it was work-related. sometimes it wasn’t.

“Where’s the file from yesterday? The one you highlighted.”

“There’s a typo on this one. Wanna tell me where your brain was?”

“You always jump when someone groans, or is that just me?”

“do you always wear skirts that short?”

And the worst part? He never looked guilty. Never embarrassed. Just amused. Like he’d found a new game to play—and you were the only one who didn’t know the rules.

⸻

The next night came.

You were once again the last one in the office, filing mission reports. This time, you double-checked the elevator schedule before staying late. Dynamight had a press conference that evening. He wouldn’t be back until hours later—if at all.

You let your guard down.

Big mistake.

Because when the elevator dinged around 10:43 p.m., and you turned expecting to see a janitor or a delivery guy—

It was him. Alone.

No model this time. Just Dynamight. Loose black tee, sweats slung low, dog tags catching the hall light. He didn’t say a word. Just walked down the hall, slow and deliberate, until he was standing at your desk.

You blinked up at him. “…Can I help you, sir?”

He stared for a moment—eyes hooded, lazy. Then leaned a forearm on your desk. “You’re always here late.” Your throat tightened. “There’s a lot to do.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, gaze dipping briefly to your lips. “That why you stayed last night too?”

“I—I didn’t realize anyone else was—”

“Oh, you realized.” That smug look returned. “You saw everything, didn’t you?” Heat crawled down your spine. He tilted his head slightly. “And what’d you think, secretary? Get a good show?” You stood up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor.

“I’m—going home. I’m done for the night.”

But as you tried to slip past him, he didn’t move.

Just let his fingers graze the edge of your desk—then yours. Soft. Barely there. Enough to make you stop.

And his voice? Lower this time. Quieter. Laced with something darker. “I fucked her thinking about you all alone out here” he said under his breath, not loud enough for you to hear.

As you took the bus home after work, his words lingered in your mind. he made you feel like some dirty pervert.

⸻

The following day came, you were a nervous wreck coming to work and praying to whoever was up there to not see him again. But for some reason lady luck was on your side because word got around that Dynamight wouldn’t be in office due for a little to an over ran mission a couple of cities over. You felt the weight of what was like an elephant lift from your shoulders hearing it. The next couple of days you could breathe and get your work done, until the night he came back. You weren’t planning to stay late again but the mission reports were a mess, your inbox was full, and your brain was too fried to say no when your team lead asked for help. Plus you wanted to get it all done so you could go home early for the weekend tomorrow.

Everyone else had left. The sun was long gone, the sky a navy blur behind the tall glass windows. You figured he was still out. Same patrol mission or high-level meeting.

You were so fucking wrong.

The elevator dinged at 11:36pm. You didn’t even look up because you just KNEW. you heard the heavy bootsteps crossing the hall, slow and measured—each one landing like they meant something.

You slowly looked up. There he was.

Hair messy from the wind, shirt clinging to his frame, jaw sharp with tension like he’d been gritting it for hours. He didn’t say anything—just stood there, watching you behind that massive front desk like you were the one interrupting him.

You swallowed. HARD. “…e-evening.”

A low hum left his throat, his gaze staying on you like you were the only thing in the room.

He didn’t walk away. Just shifted his weight slightly, his eyes scanning your desk. You could feel the pressure of his stare, like he was seeing right through you.

You followed his line of sight—realizing too late that your files were fanned out everywhere. Messy. Color-coded. Your pink highlighter cap left open next to your now cold coffee.

Shit.

You scrambled to get up and gather everything, heart thudding harder than you’d like to admit. “I—I’ll get these off before I leave. I just wanted to finish highlighting—”

He didn’t let you finish.

One step closer, without warning.

His body moved with purpose, no hesitation. He didn’t lean in, didn’t raise his voice, but somehow his presence swallowed you whole.

He just tapped twice—once, twice—on the corner of a sticky note beside your hand.

Then, his voice came, low, clipped, a little too calm for your liking.

“Next time you highlight mission details…”

“…don’t use pink.”

he paused for a moment looking at you while his finger was still resting on the sticky note.

“I fucking hate pink.”

You stiffened, trying to shake off the irritation that bubbled up in your chest.

“Well, maybe I’m not here to impress you,” you muttered under your breath, your annoyance pushing you further than you meant to go.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even react at first.

You tried to ignore the sudden heat crawling up your neck. It was just a comment—nothing more.

But then you saw it.

His lips curled into a faint smirk, that signature cocky grin of his. He leaned in just a little more, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket like he was too relaxed, too calm for the situation.

“Not here to impress me?” His voice was smooth, almost condescending. “Then why the hell are you even still here, huh?”

Your jaw tightened. You were about to fire back, but he wasn’t done.

He took another step forward. This time, there was no space left between you.

His eyes narrowed, gaze dropping from your face to the pink highlighter in your hand. He reached out, slowly, deliberately, taking the cap from the table and flicking it absentmindedly.

His eyes met yours, cold but sharp. He didn’t blink.

“You wanna talk back to me, huh? You wanna act like you don’t care what I think?” He leaned in closer, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off his body. “You’ll get real fucking tired of that attitude real fast.”

You tried to hold your ground, but something in the air was shifting. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating in a way that made you feel small. Vulnerable. He was in your space now—too close. But you couldn’t bring yourself to back away.

“What, you think I’m scared of you?” Your voice was steady, though your heart was pounding in your chest.

His lips curled into a knowing grin, his fingers brushing the back of your hand like it was nothing. But the touch was deliberate. “No, but I think you like it.”

You inhaled sharply, your pulse quickening.

“Like what?” you breathed, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

“Like it when I call you out,” he replied, his voice dripping with something dangerously close to amusement. “Like it when I make you feel something you don’t know how to handle.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, he stepped back.

His eyes locked onto yours one last time, with a smooth, and mocking tone. “Not here to impress me, huh? Guess what? You’re not fooling anyone.”

You bristled at the implication, trying to pull away from the tension that was building in the space between you two. But he didn’t let up. Instead, he moved even closer, stepping into your personal space until there was barely an inch of air between you.

“Keep playing it cool,” he continued, his voice dropping an octave, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “But I know exactly what you want.“

His lips were only inches from yours now, and you could feel his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart pounded, and the words escaped you before you could stop them.

“And what exactly do you think I want?” you breathed.

His grin widened, a wicked, confident curl of his lips, and then, in a voice that was barely a whisper, he answered, “You want me to prove it.”

“fuck you” that’s all it took.

And before you could even process what he meant, he was on you.

His hands found your waist, lifting you onto the desk, making sure there was no space between you. The way he kissed you, with so much force and urgency, made it clear he wasn’t about to stop.

You gasped as he trailed his lips down to your collarbone, his hands already pulling at your shirt, lifting it over your head. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but in the best way. The heat in your body was building rapidly, your skin tingling where his hands brushed.

“I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before,” he growled, his lips back on yours with a hunger you couldn’t resist.

You pulled him closer, urging him to take what he wanted, because deep down, you knew you were past the point of no return.

And when his hands moved to the waistband of your pants, you didn’t hesitate, lifting your hips to let him undress you completely.

He didn’t waste any time, his mouth back on your neck, his hands working to free himself from his pants, all while he never broke eye contact with you.

“Say my name,” he demanded, his voice thick with lust, the words slipping from him in a low growl.

You could hardly breathe, let alone think. But somehow, you managed to whisper, “Dynamight.”

He smirked against your neck, his hand coming down on your ass with a harsh smack, the sound echoing in the quiet room. You jolted, a breathless gasp escaping your lips, and he leaned back, his eyes narrowing.

“I said, say MY fucking name,” he repeated, his voice a little sharper this time.

You moaned, your body aching for more as you looked up at him with a pleading expression. “Katsuki,” you whined, your voice higher, desperate. The sound of his name on your lips, the way it twisted in the air between you two, sent him into a frenzy.

He didn’t give you a moment to recover—he grabbed your thighs and dragged you to the edge of the desk, his mouth crashing into yours again, hungry and unrelenting. You felt the hard press of his cock against your bare core, still hidden behind the fabric of his boxers, and you instinctively rolled your hips, chasing the friction you so desperately needed.

“You’re drivin’ me fuckin’ insane,” he hissed against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you—flushed, panting, pupils blown wide. “Actin’ like you didn’t want this. Walkin’ around the office in those tight little skirts… lookin’ at me like that… like you wanted to be fucked.”

You whimpered, and he chuckled darkly, pulling his boxers down and letting his cock spring free. The sight alone had your breath hitching, and he noticed.

“Yeah?” he muttered, stroking himself slowly as he watched your reaction. “This what you’ve been needin’? Bet your fingers couldn’t even come close to makin’ you feel this full.”

And then he pushed in—slowly, almost teasing, stretching you inch by inch until your back arched and a breathless moan spilled from your lips, your eyes rolling in the back of your skull.

“Fuck—you feel better than I ever imagined,” he gritted, gripping your hips so tight you knew he’d leave marks. “Tight little pussy takin’ me so well.”

He set a brutal pace, snapping his hips against yours, the desk creaking beneath you both his as your body rocked with each thrust. You could barely form words—just whimpers and his name on loop like a prayer.

And then, just when you thought it couldn’t get filthier, he leaned in, his voice rasping directly into your ear.

“You know how many girls I’ve fucked the last two weeks?”

Each word was punctuated by a hard, punishing thrust.

“Every. Single. ONE of them—I thought about you.”

You gasped, your nails clawing at his back as your orgasm built dangerously fast.“Thought bout how beautiful you’d look bent over my fuckin’ desk takin’ my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back, the filthy words and his relentless rhythm dragging you closer to the edge. Your whole body trembled under him, your mind trying to deny it, trying to keep up, but your body had already surrendered. It needed him. All of him.

“And how amazing your tits would look bouncin’ in my face as you ride me.” he leaned down to your chest and sucked on your tit as he fondled the other with his free hand.

You gasped as his words hit you like a wave, the sharpness of his growl sending a tremor through your body. Every word he spoke, every thrust, made it harder to remember what it was you were supposed to resist.

His pace quickened, and you were helpless under him. Each snap of his hips felt like a jolt of electricity, shooting through your veins, making you gasp and moan for him. The desk beneath you scraped against the floor as he pushed you closer to the edge, and all you could do was hold on, your fingers digging into the wood as you clung to whatever semblance of control you had left.

“Say my name again,” he commanded, his voice thick with need. “Say it and mean it this time.”

“Kats-sukiiiiiaaa,” you breathed, your head thrown back, the sensation of him inside you almost too much to handle. You could feel your walls tightening around him, your body already on the brink of breaking. You were so close—so close you could taste it.

His lips curled into a wicked grin as he saw the desperation in your eyes, his pace never slowing. “That’s it, princess,” he growled, his hand snaking down to rub your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “You’re mine now. All mine and not any of these shitty extras around this place”.

You could barely respond, your mind clouded with the pleasure he was giving you. Every inch of your body felt like it was on fire, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core until you were trembling with the effort of holding back.

And then, with one last, forceful thrust, he drove you over the edge. Your body arched against him, your moans a desperate mixture of his name and incoherent sounds. His name tumbled from your lips again, this time louder, as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and weak.

But Bakugou didn’t stop. He wasn’t done with you yet.

He kept going, pushing you through your orgasm with a brutal determination that had you gasping for air. His thrusts grew erratic, faster, harder, as his own release approached. His breath was ragged in your ear, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room.

With one final growl, he pulled you closer, his hand gripping your hips as he buried himself deep inside you, his release spilling over as he held you against him, each shuddering breath making it clear just how much he needed you—how much he’d been holding back.

For a long moment, you both stayed like that, tangled in each other’s arms, breathless and spent. He kissed your forehead softly, a rare moment of tenderness after the storm, but the fire in his eyes never fully faded.

“Next time,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, “I’ll be fuckin’ you in my bed not some flimsy office desk.”

You smiled, your fingers tracing the muscles in his back as you both tried to catch your breath. This… this was just the beginning.

#mha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki smut #bnha smut #bnha katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #botanicwrites #katsuki bakugou x female reader #the secretary #aged up characters

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bluewxrld07 · 1 month ago

Text

Been Like This - (Lando Norris)

Lando Norris X F!Reader

Summary: Lando and Y/N are besties. Someone in the friendgroup admits Y/N is a virgin. Little did Lando know this little secret she has been hiding. She ends up getting all embarrassed, and gives Lando the silent treatment after he jokes about it. He soon realizes that maybe it wasn't something she wanted to have joked about. In which he finally corners her on a night out and gives her a taste of what she’s missing, only for her to turn the tables.

Warning(s): makeout, mutual pining, dirty talk

A/N: lemme know if we want part two!!!

It was more of a laid-back night in Italy for the crew, some of the select friend group had gotten together in the suite that Lando and Oscar shared. The balcony doors were wide open to let in the cool oceanside breeze, the sun nearing to sit at the edge of the horizon with nothing but clear skies above.

Y/N had been sitting on the floor by the foot of the couch, inside the large living room with an almost empty glass of whiskey in hand, as she tried to hold in a laugh at something Max was saying in the group.

She adjusted the papaya-colored sundress she wore, taking another light sip of the drink in her hand.

"Okay, but that's not fair to say! I had no idea she was going to be coming back with me in the first place, let alone trying to steal shit from my place. Spare me please!" Max groans as he rubs a hand over his face.

"Yeah, but dude you totally saw it coming with how she kept hinting at her feet hurting, stating she wanted to go somewhere else much calmer with you," Lando argues, the man sitting at the end of the couch as his hand comfortably sits on Y/N's shoulder.

"She was practically pleading to go home, Max. Come on now." Y/N chuckles.

"Next time I'm doing a full background check before taking someone home. Damn near died from that encounter alone."

"That'll stop from junior down there for sure." Oscar laughs, nodding down towards his groin, earning a look from Max.

"Laugh all you want, you were ready to kiss the concrete that night," Max mutters while sipping on his drink. Y/N had to hold a snort back as she sipped her drink, wiping away the drop that spilled from her mouth.

She felt a small squeeze on her shoulder which caused her to look up at Lando nodding towards her glass. "More?" he asks and she nods while handing him her glass as he stands.

"Don't make me miss anything else while I go get more refreshments. This is too good, I need more on Maxie poo." Lando snickers while walking over towards the kitchen.

"Like you haven't had your fair share of hook-up nightmares!" Oscar yells out, earning a groan from Lando.

Y/N lets out a loud snort at that, knowing exactly how bad most had been.

"Yeah, you've got that right. He keeps a list in his notes app on his phone." Y/N admits, earning howls from the group.

"No way, really? Oh, I've gotta see these." Charles claims, leaning his head back as he lets out a laugh.

"You little snitch!" Lando giggles as he comes back while pointing at her, she puts her hands up in defense. "You never said I couldn't share between the group. Not my fault there were regulations!" she snorts, giving him a thankful smile while he hands her the new glass of whiskey.

"That's insane you hold that so close to you," Oscar cackles. "Lando's Hall of Fame for worst hookups."

Lando throws an ice cube at him before leaning back on the couch.

"Hey easy there Oscar, I hear you're not too far behind either with hookups." Y/N points out, earning a playful eyeroll.

"Yeah yeah okay whatever. I won't say you're wrong on that," he admits, adjusting his position in the recliner before pointing at her with a frown.

"You wanna play dirty? You want to talk about your body count?" Oscar taunts playfully, making her look up from her glass and give him a pointed look.

"Don't you dare!"

Oscar puts his hands up in defense. "Hey fine if you don't want to talk about your body count of zero that's fine by me," he says, making her mouth drop.

Everyone immediately looks at her with both shock and amusement on their faces.

"No way! Dear old Y/N, is this true?" Charles asks.

Y/N facepalms. "Since when did we not know this?" Max laughs out, earning a nonchalant shrug from her.

"Y/N you're kidding!" Lando's voice perks up, earning a flinch from her as she slowly turns behind her to see nothing but shock and confusion on his face.

To say he was shocked was an understatement. He had been friends with her since before they both could remember, seeing how boys would fall at her feet regardless of how she acted. Especially when high school and college came, she had the biggest glow-up.

Bloody hell he would have been at his knees if she asked. So hearing this statement not only made something in him ignite, but it also made him feel disappointed at the fact she never told him about it.

"What?" she asks.

Lando tilts his head lightly at her. "You're a virgin?" he questions.

"Yeah?" she says nonchalantly, trying to keep her embarrassment at bay and hiding how she wanted to shrink away.

"How did I not know this?"

"It just never came up," she says, taking a sip of her drink.

Lando leans back against the couch with a lazy smirk as he raises his drink to his lips. "Sweetheart I would've gladly helped if I had known."

Y/N shoots him a frown, making his smirk drop when he notices she is not in the mood for jokes like those. "I mean I would not have judged you for something like that," he says quickly.

"Lando of all people I feel like would've known. You two have been inseparable for years." Max states, that Y/N justshrugs once more before downing her whiskey in one gulp.

"Didn't really find someone I wanted to lose it to, and then I kind of just didn't care for it," she admits with a dry laugh, standing up from her spot and using Lando's knee as support while she stood.

"I'm in shock right now. Have you seen what you look like Y/N? How? Literally how?" Charles' girlfriend chimes in, and Y/N blows a playful kiss her way as she walks over to where her shoes are.

"I had bigger priorities is all. Not a big deal." Y/N chuckles. "But speaking of, duty calls. I've gotta be up way before any of you lots in the morning," she says, trying to hide the embarrassment in her voice.

Her eyes land on Lando's, who have many emotions going through them as he looks at her.

She bids them all goodnight before heading out and back to her room, immediately feeling the weight on her chest begin to cave in. She wraps her arms around herself as she stalks to her room, ready to call it a night.

As she was doing her nightly bathroom routine she saw her phone buzz and turn on, showing that Lando had texted her.

Lando 🧡: Sorry for making that joke, I didn't mean any harm by it

Lando 🧡: Girls like you just usually have history. I was caught off guard

Lando 🧡: Shit that sounded really bad that's not what I meant

Lando 🧡: Can we talk, please?

Y/N rolled her eyes at his text, placing her phone back down while she spit her toothpaste out. It wasn't that she didn't want to experience it, she just never had the full chance to.

When she went on dates or was talking to a guy, it just never really got to that point she just never felt the need for intimacy.

At first, she thought she was crazy or maybe didn't like boys, but it truly just was never that. She had been one of the girls in school that was so much more focused on her studies and getting her degree than worrying about who was dating who.

But now she just had a busy work life. Working for Formula One did have many pros of course, but it also had cons where she was traveling and working every single day.

She also had come to realize that she only wanted one person to make her feel that way. To make her feel how the men in the books she read made her insides feel when reading, and it made her realize that all the men she rejected were simple because her body had already chosen its person.

But she knew better than anyone that Lando didn't go for virgins. She's heard him talk about how afraid he is of them getting attached, or hurting them and he didn't want that on his conscience.

So she stopped pestering herself about it.

She turned off the bathroom light as she walked back towards her bed, setting her phone on her charger. She saw another couple of messages come in from Lando, not bothering to read them.

She sighed before sliding underneath the fresh covers, turning the light off, and looking out the balcony glass doors as the moonlight made its presence known through the windows.

Her eyes slowly shut not shortly after.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lando was losing his mind.

Not only because it was race day, but also because Y/N had been ignoring him all morning.

Or so that is what he thinks she's doing. He's known her long enough to know when she's ignoring someone, she does everything in her power to avoid wherever they'll be to avoid confrontation.

She had already set up his room and pre-race plans before he arrived, the man always catching her leaving right as he was entering, but her figure was turned away from him before she could notice he was coming.

Little notes had been left on his stuff with her handwriting on it, and they were things she would usually say and instruct him before races. He caught her a few times across the lot talking and laughing with Oscar or any of the other workers. As soon as he would make his way over, she would soon begin to walk off and slyly end her conversation with whoever it was.

It was driving him mad.

Although there was one time he knew he'd get to talk to her before the race, and that was right now.

She had to make sure the car was all set as he got settled in, then made sure his gear was all in place as he got in. When she came into view, she was bent over the side of the car and checking his coms, RPM amongst other controls.

"Sweetheart, really?" he asks underneath the helmet, watching as she is mumbling to herself and checking off each thing.

"Do your radio check in your helmet." she instructs, now leaning behind him. He looks back at her and shakes his head before doing as he is told, rather than testing her patience which he can tell is very thin.

"Y/N," he says, not getting an answer while she makes sure his straps are good while he straps in. Her hand comes across his chest to tighten the top, his hand gripping her wrist which causes her to snap a look at him.

"You know better than to ignore me, sweet girl," he says lowly to her, watching as her facial expression doesn't change and she snags her hand from his grip before straightening back to her position and looking up.

"Everything is good. He's ready." she signals out before walking off.

Lando was about ready to risk everything in that moment, unstrap himself, and go after her, maybe even have his way. Show her what it was like to feel that form of ecstasy he so badly wished she would let him give her. He should have known better after the things he said the night before, but he was just so caught off guard by it.

But if there was anything he knew, it was to not push her if she didn't want to be pushed.

Besides, he knew she would seem his ass out if he was so much as a millimeter out of line for a race.

So he decided that this would have to happen after.

It has to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It ended up being a great night that night, as Lando was placed on the podium.

They decided since it was their last night in Italy, that what kind of night would it be if they didn't go out and celebrate the beautiful nightlife that it had?

So here the entire friend group was, the music booming loudly at the Formula One roofless club/party event as the stars and moon lined the sky above.

Y/N had still kept her distance the rest of the day after the win, only keeping it professional as she didn't want to hash things out during work. She was not a fan of having to avoid Lando, but she just could not bring herself to look or talk to him after he found that out yesterday.

Not that she was mad anymore at him, she was more so just embarrassed because Lando was this playboy. He had no trouble with girls, and she knew he would never judge her of all people.

It just made her think things would be different, especially with how she sees him. Not that he knew that.

So now here she stood wearing a snug black satin maxi skirt and a matching tup top, a pair of nude heels adorning her feet. She was in a conversation with Max and one of her coworkers, a drink in hand.

Y/N jumped lightly when she felt a pair of hands slither around the skin that was showing between her top and skirt, the hands warm and soft while they stopped at her front. She turned her head around to see Lando already looking down at her with a straight face, giving her a light squeeze.

She says nothing before turning back to finish the story she was telling, Max not hesitating to catch the look Lando gave him as a hint, giving him a sly nod as they let her finish the conversation.

"We're gonna go find Charles and Oscar and do some photos. I'll come grab you after?" Max offers her before squeezing her arm as they pass by her and she nods with a warm smile.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" she jokes, earning a playful grin from Max,

"That's a short list!" he shoots back before disappearing into the crowd.

She turns around in Lando's grasp, looking up at his face and trying to read his expression.

"You gonna acknowledge me now?" he asks, and she rolls her eyes.

"Try again," she says with her arms crossed.

"Why are you mad at me?" he asks her in a softer tone but still demanding. She frowns at him.

"I'm not mad at you."

"Then why? Why ignore me?"

"I'm not-"

"You've been avoiding me all damn day," he interrupts, his hands leaving her sides as they fall to his. "I couldn't even get a look from you. So don't say you weren't avoiding me."

Y/N knew he was the last person to lie to, knowing he always sees right through her. She purses her lips and huffs.

"I wasn't avoiding you because I was mad," she admits.

"Then why were you?" he pesters more, and he sees her looking back and forth between his own eyes, but not missing the split second they flicked down to his lips.

"Because," she answers shortly.

"Because why?"

Y/N rolls her eyes and looks away from him, running her tongue over her teeth. Lando takes matters into his own hands, using one hand to grab her face and turn her gaze back to him.

Not knowing the fire was igniting not only in her, but in him as well.

He always loved her feisty side. The way she was always able to dish it back when she wanted to.

When he got her gaze back on him, he crossed his arms over his chest waiting for an answer. "Why, Y/N?" he asks again.

"I was embarrassed." she sputters out, her own arms coming to wrap around herself. Lando lets his brows furrow.

"Why were you embarrassed?" he pushes.

"I really don't-"

"Y/N."

"You won't look at me the same, Lan," she admits.

He leans closer to her. "Try me, sweet girl." he pushes, making her insides begin to spin in more good ways than one at their closeness.

"Because you're you, Lan," she starts. "I also just couldn't get anyone to make me feel a way I want to feel."

"And how is that?"

She gives him a look. "No." she says before turning away, Lando not far behind her as he grabs her hip to turn her back into him.

"Y/N," he starts. "I'm not going to judge you. I'd never do that to you."

"You said yesterday-"

"Yeah and I was a wanker for saying that shit, I was just shocked. But I promise you, I won't judge you."

She looks at him with a softer serious look. "You promise?" she asks sternly and he nods. She huffs.

"Nobody could make my body, or my senses and all that, react how it reacts to you."

Lando swears his heart stops beating for a second, and his stomach begins to churn with a whole other feeling. Lust. Want. Need.

Y/N watches as his pupils slightly dilate, their closeness still making her heart pump fast as he stares down at her.

"And how does it react to me? What happens?" he asks in a low voice, making her thighs automatically clench. She lets out a breath.

Instead of letting her answer, Lando lets one of his hands travel up to push a strand of her hair away before gripping her chin and playing with her lower lip.

Y/N lets out a deep sigh at the feeling of his thumb grazing over the skin, feeling his other hand drift down to play with the hem of her skirt. His hand every so often caressed below the hem where her lace panties were.

"What do you feel?" he asks her lowly, a sly smirk on his face.

She says nothing, only holding their eye contact with such fire and need in her eyes. Instead of her saying something this time, she decides to act.

Y/N's bottom lip falls open wider, letting her teeth graze his thumb before taking it in her mouth.

To say Lando was frozen for a second is an understatement. The way her tongue flicked against his thumb made his pants tighten, not missing the way one of her hands trailed up to his toned chest and pushed him lightly back onto the chair behind him.

She stood between his legs and let his thumb fall from her mouth as it trailed down her chin, to her throat, down the valley of her breasts and her stomach, and joined his other hand at her hips. He kept one hand squeezing at her hip as the other began squeezing at her thigh as he held eye contact with her fiery ones.

"You asked me what my body feels," she says, trailing her hand that was on his chest up towards his hair. She was softly running her fingers through it as she watched him bite his lip to hide a not-so-slick groan.

Before he can decipher what was happening, her grip on his hair tightens and she pulls his head back so he is fully looking up at her. She watched his lips part in a soft moan, a sly smirk going to her lips.

She has him right where she wants him.

Her other hand finds home on his jawline. She slowly bends down and lets her face hover over his, their lips barely grazing. Lando tries to reach and close the distance but is stopped by the tighter grip she has on his hair.

"What's wrong, sweet boy?" she taunts, earning a smirk from the boy below against her lips.

"I want to finally feel how those lips are against mine instead of it being in my dreams, baby," he says back, making her chuckle lowly.

She obeys his command, placing her lips fully on his. She doesn't miss the noises coming from him as their lips move in sync, or how his hands want to move but stay respectfully where they are.

Y/N pulls away far too shortly after for Lando's liking, smirking against his lips before looking into his eyes.

"How you're feeling right now," she mutters. "Is exactly how you make me feel. All the time," she admits, making his breathing become rapid.

She lets go of his hair before standing up straight turning away from Lando and taking a sip of her drink while going to find the rest of their friends.

Lando didn't fail to watch as her hips swayed side to side when she walked away, having to adjust his pants.

The fact that she had all this fire in her, the way she was able to make him so close to begging in the span of a minute made him realize how down bad he was for her.

He knew that when he finally got her, he was never letting her go. She was his and he would make sure every man knew that.

This was definitely far from over, and he knew she knew that too.

#y/n #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando x you #mclaren #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut

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linoxpudding · 5 months ago

Text

Fashionably Jealous - Han Jisung

summary: you're part of skz styling team, and you've always been assigned to han jisung, but when you get assigned to another member for the upcoming concert week, he can't hide his jealousy- you and his members are waiting till he cracks and finally confess his feelings

pairing: han jisung x reader, skz squad

genre: fluff, humor

fic type: written + text

a/n: written based on this request, bestie!hyunjin is my fav 💜

Masterlist

~°~

[A Week Before The Concert - 9 AM]

Han Jisung’s jaw dropped the moment he saw the stylist assignment list hanging on the wall for next week’s concert. His eyes scanned the names once, twice—three times—just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

You had been his stylist since the day you joined, always fussing over his outfits, fixing his hair, and making sure he looked perfect before every stage. But now? Now your name was next to someone else’s. Changbin’s, of all people.

Jisung felt betrayed. If he had been holding a coffee cup, it would’ve slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor in slow motion. Heck, if this were a drama, the camera would zoom in on his devastated face as dramatic music played in the background.

Without wasting another second, he whipped out his phone and furiously started typing.

[Later That Day - 10:45 AM]

Later in the morning, Hyunjin and Felix walk into the studio and get the drama after entering then they quickly update the rest of the members in the family chat.

[Concert Day ONE - 7 AM]

Han Jisung did, in fact, care. A lot. He sat on one of the dressing room couches, pouting as he watched you adjust Changbin's outfit one last time. It was already bad enough that the members were teasing him, but now you were teasing him too.

He didn't even realise you had finished until you plopped down beside him, nudging his shoulder.

"Hey, grumpy," you said grinning. "Are you going to sulk through the whole concert?"

"I'm not sulking," he huffed, turning his face away dramatically.

"Hey now," you tried once more, but he just got up and got busy getting ready.

You took out your phone seeing Hyunjin's text, you chuckled before replying.

[Concert Day TWO - 4 PM]

It was already the second day. Five more days of this torture of seeing you with Changbin.

He sat in the makeup chair, arms crossed, scowling as you fussed over Changbin's hair instead of his yet again. He didn't even realize his lips were pouting until Minho walked by and flicked his forehead.

“Your face is going to stick like that if you keep sulking,” Minho teased.

“I’m not sulking,” Jisung muttered. “Just…observing.”

“Observing what? The way Y/N fixes Changbin’s collar?”

Jisung scoffed. “No. Who cares about that? Not me.”

Behind him, Hyunjin, Felix, and Seungmin stifled their laughter. They had been watching Jisung stew in jealousy all morning, and it was comedy gold.

You, of course, were well aware of the situation. In fact, you played into it, purposefully fluffing Changbin’s hair a little longer than necessary, making sure to fix his accessories while Jisung watched.

Changbin, catching on, smirked. “You’re really thorough, Y/N. I might request you as my personal stylist from now on.”

That was the last straw.

Jisung stood up so fast his chair nearly tipped over. “NO.”

Everyone turned to him.

“No?” Changbin echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Jisung realized too late what he had done. His face turned red as he scrambled for an explanation. “I mean—uh—you can’t just—request someone like that! Y/N has a schedule! A very important schedule!”

Felix hummed. “And what’s so important about Y/N’s schedule?”

Jisung faltered. “Well… I mean… You know… Stuff.”

Hyunjin leaned against the makeup counter. “Just admit it, Ji. You’re jealous.”

“I—What? Me? Jealous?” Jisung scoffed dramatically, but his voice cracked at the end. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s really not,” Seungmin deadpanned.

You finally decided to put him out of his misery. Stepping closer, you tapped his shoulder lightly. “Han, you know we all know about your crush, right?”

Jisung froze. “Wh-What?”

“We’ve known for months,” Minho added.

“Dude, even staff knows,” Changbin said.

Jisung’s brain short-circuited. “EVERYONE?!”

You chuckled at his sheer panic before grabbing his wrist and pulling him aside, away from the teasing stares of the members.

“Hanji,” you said softly, watching as he nervously fidgeted with the rings on his fingers.

“…Yeah?” His voice was small, his usual confidence completely gone.

You smiled. “Why do you think they knew before you did?”

Jisung groaned, rubbing his face. “I dunno. I thought I was being smooth. Like, super cool about it.”

You laughed. “Babe, you’re about as subtle as a fire alarm.”

He peeked at you through his fingers. “Babe?”

You shrugged. “Figured I might as well, since you like me and all.”

His ears turned impossibly red. “Oh my god, I’m going to pass out.”

You nudged him. “Hey, don’t die yet. You still haven’t properly confessed.”

Jisung took a deep breath, then puffed out his cheeks before exhaling dramatically. “Fine. Here goes. Y/N… I have a stupidly huge crush on you. Have had for a long time. I think about you all the time, I get jealous way too easily, and I may or may not have written a song about how much I like you.”

You grinned. “Wow, that was actually a great confession.”

“Really?” His eyes lit up.

You nodded. “Yeah. And guess what?”

“What?”

“I like you too, Han.”

For a second, Jisung didn’t react. Then, suddenly, he let out a tiny, delighted squeak before throwing his arms around you.

“BEST DAY EVER,” he declared.

From across the room, the members groaned.

“Do we get peace now?” Hyunjin sighed.

“No promises,” you and Jisung said in unison.

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glow-in-the-dark-death · 1 year ago

Text

A Week (He Will Take You)

Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.

This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.

Anyway

This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,

They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.

They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.

Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.

Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.

In other words they were stuck in Gotham

Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.

Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,

Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.

You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.

Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.

But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.

"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"

This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.

"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"

That was it.

The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.

But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,

Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.

The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty

Like no one had been living in it.

People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.

Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.

Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"

Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "

Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"

Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."

Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."

Bruce: "Hn."

Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"

Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"

Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"

Just an Idea

#glowy-death-ideas #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #batman #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #prompt fill #story prompt #prompts #writing prompt #dp #ghost #ghosts #dp x dc

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thatdisasterauthor · 5 months ago

Text

New disaster education graphic! Had to split it in half so tumblr wouldn't TOTALLY eat the quality. I'm going to put the full, unsplit version beneath a cut so if you want to share this graphic you can grab the whole one or the two halves, whichever works for you. As always, my disaster graphics can be shared anywhere on the internet that isn't making a profit, as long as my credit remains intact at the bottom! If you would like to license a physical or paid use of them, reach out to me on my website.

I've seen a lot of graphics about defensible space over the years, but I've never really seen one that does a good job of also explaining WHY the recommendations are what they are, so I've been wanting to make a graphic that dug into the why.

Alt text is also below the cut!

Alt text: Two halves of a single infographic. The background is dark gray. The top text reads "Why Does Defensible Space Matter?" in large yellow text. Below that is the text "When it comes to protecting your home from a wildfire, having defensible space around your home is one of the best things you can do. But why?" in black. Below that is the text "Wildfires move in three main ways:" in white.

Next there are three rectangles in a lighter gray, stacked one on top of the other. Each has a diagram of a small house on the edge of a forest. There are decorations on the porch, firewood on the porch, leaf litter on the roof, overgrown grass, trees growing right up next to the house, bushes, and the forest is crowded and overgrown.

In the top box, there is a fire moving along the ground, and the box is labeled as "Along the ground." In the second box the fire is moving through the tops of the trees, and the box is labeled, "through the crowns of trees." The third box shows a distance fire with lots of little embers being blown through the air, labeled as "Through the air via embers."

After that is the text, "The goal of defensible space is to make changes that impede each of these types of movement" in white.

Below that are the same three boxes as above, but each one shows changes you can make to impede one of these types of movement. The changes are listed under the box in a numbered list, with the numbers also in the diagram where those changes are reflected in the art.

The first box is labeled as "Impede ground movement" and has the following items listed:

Create a five foot zone around your home with no burnables using gravel, pavers, or other hardscaping.

Keep grass trimmed and well maintained in a thirty foot radius around your home.

Keep ground plants other than grass to a minimum and well spaced out.

Trim low hanging branches to prevent a ground fire from accessing higher portions of the tree.

The second box is labeled as "Impede Crown Movement" and has the following items listed:

Remove trees hanging over the roof and close to the home.

Thin trees within One-Hundred Feet of the home to reduce movement of flames between them.

The third box is labeled as "Remove Anything that can trap embers" and has the following items listed:

Clean debris such as leaves from off the roof of and around your home.

Do not store firewood or lumber near your home.

Keep combustible decorations That can trap embers close to your home to a minimum.

After that is a larger version of the house, but redecorated in a more fire safe manner. The door has been painted purple, there are plants visible inside through the window, and the outdoor decorations are made of non-combustible materials. After the house is the text "There are still plenty of ways to make your home your own while being fire safe!" in white.

Below that in a rectangle is the text "For more information on defensible space and how to create it around your home, visit: https://www.fire.ca.gov/dspace for a more in depth breakdown of how to protect each zone around your home."

The last text on the poster reads "If you are in the U.S.A. and experiencing disaster related anxiety, call the Disaster Distress Hotline at 1-800-985-5990 for support and resources. Poster created by Katy L. Wood ● www.Katy-L-Wood.com"

#Wildfire #Disaster Education #Defensible Space #Natural Disaster #Infographic #My Art #Emergency Management

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ellewritesx · 20 days ago

Text

explore me slowly

(part two of the teach me slowly series)

Summary: Firsts aren't always easy. Lucky for you, Harry's got patience— and a plan.

Warnings: early stages of a relationship, age gap, lots of talk about virginity and sex, fingering, brief oral (f!receiving), sexual guilt (it's so common and it's time we start talking about it)

Based on: this ask!

A/N: hi lovelies! sorry this update took foreverrr. i've had a rough week, but i'm back now and working hard on creating new content for you guys :) i'm so happy to see the love i received on part one of this, thank you all sososo much. series tag list is open x

Word Count: 4,319

...

You're nervous.

Not the jittery, wide-eyed kind of nervous, but the quiet kind. It simmers just beneath the surface, where your stomach feels light and fluttery, and your thoughts are buzzing too fast to catch.

You're sitting with Harry on his couch, tucked beneath the blanket that always smells like him, like fresh, warm laundry and cedarwood and something a little sweeter underneath. The movie he put on a while ago has turned to static now, background noise, barely audible under the sound of your pulse in your ears.

Your mind keeps drifting back to last Friday night, to that first conversation you and Harry had about your virginity, turning it over in your head, trying to decide what you want.

But now you know.

You pull back a little, tilting your head to look at him properly, and your voice is smaller than you mean it to be when you speak up. ''I think… I want to try something tonight.''

That gets his attention.

His arm, which had been draped along the back of the couch and absentmindedly stroking your shoulder, stills. He turns to face you, scanning your features with those sharp, observant eyes like he's trying to understand everything you're not saying. ''Try something?'' he echoes, but it's not teasing. It's curious. Encouraging.

You nod. Your fingers curl in the hem of your shorts, anchoring yourself. ''I don't know what exactly. I just… I trust you. And I want to explore. Whatever you think is best to start with.''

He stays quiet for a beat, his thumb brushing the side of your thigh under the blanket. ''Are you sure?''

You nod again, firmer this time. ''Yeah. I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm not trying to rush into anything I'm not ready for. And I'm not ready for... everything, but we could do something else, right?''

Harry's expression softens into something tender. You can see it shift, the subtle change in how he's holding himself. The way he sinks a bit deeper into the cushions, like the weight of your blind trust, and his responsibility for it, slowly settles onto his shoulders.

''Okay,'' he says. ''We'll go slow. If you're okay with it, I'd like to understand where you're at. What you're comfortable with. What you like, what you don't like, y'know?''

You inhale deeply, your shoulders relaxing at the sound of his calm voice. You hadn't realized how much tension you'd been holding until now. You hum in response, heart thudding steady in your chest.

Harry's eyes flick to your lips, your eyes, your hands in your lap. He shifts slightly so he's facing you more directly. ''So… when you say you want to try something, what does that look like for you tonight? Is there something you've been curious about?''

You chew your lip. ''I don't know, really. That's the thing. I've never done any of this before, so I don't really know where I'm supposed to start, what I'm supposed to explore. That's why I'm asking you to... I don't know, lead. To tell me what to do.''

''I can do that. Is there anything that's off-limits tonight?'' he asks carefully, his hand moving to rest lightly on your bare knee.

You think about it for a moment, then shake your head. ''I don't want to… you know. Go all the way. Not yet.''

''Okay,'' he smiles, squeezing your knee softly in reassurance. ''What about me touching you? With my hands, or my mouth?''

Your breath catches, heat rushing to your cheeks. The words make you squirm, but you manage to give him a curt nod, forcing a tight-lipped, nervous smile. ''Yeah. I think I'd like to try that.''

He smiles gently, fingers brushing your neck, waiting for any sign of hesitation. When all he sees is curiosity etched onto your features, he dips his head under yours, pressing soft kisses to your neck.

Your heartbeat pounds under your skin as Harry caresses your arms, rubbing them up and down soothingly. You gasp when he sucks lightly on your skin, taking his time getting you in the mood.

''Do you want me to show you what feels good? Or do you want to tell me what to do?'' he murmurs, his lips brushing your collarbone.

You bite your lip, throat dry. ''I… I want you to show me.''

He stands up, then holds out a hand.

''Come here, love.''

You take it, and he tugs you to your feet, pulling a huffed laugh from you. He puts his hands on your waist and begins slowly walking you backward, firm and deliberate, toward his bedroom, not breaking eye contact once. Something about it, the effortless confidence he exudes, the air of nonchalance, makes your breath hitch.

And when your back hits his bedroom door, he pauses. He leans in, foreheads touching, his breath mingling with yours.

''You're sure?'' he whispers.

You nod. ''I'm sure.''

And then he kisses you, deep and passionate, his hand fumbling for the door handle behind you. He chuckles against your lips when he clumsily opens the door, and you both stumble in with a laugh.

Harry's bedroom is dim, the lamp on his bedside table painting the room in a soft yellow. You turn around, taking in his space. It feels intimate. It's simple, minimalistic, but so Harry.

There are sticky notes attached to the small notice board above his desk, filled with hasty scribbles like yoga pushed to 7 this Thursday!!! and pick up mum from the airport!!! and a nonsensical jumble of random words and phrases. Lyrics for new songs, you think.

The door clicks shut behind him and you feel his presence behind you, steady, unfaltering, unlike the beat of your heart. For a second, neither of you speak. You're not sure when the room got so quiet, but your pulse thrums in your ears, the sound of your shallow breathing seeming to mute everything else.

Then his arms slide around your waist from behind, pulling you back into the solid heat of his chest. He dips his head to your height and presses a kiss just behind your ear, then another one to the slope of your neck, and you melt into him by instinct.

His fingers find the hem of your hoodie, his hoodie, technically, the navy one you borrowed weeks ago and never gave back. It still smells faintly like his cologne, the way his clothes always do when he forgets them on your couch. He gathers the fabric, lifting it inch by inch until it bunches beneath your waist, right above your grey shorts.

It had felt a little silly when you put it on after your shower this morning, but his mouth twitches into a smile when he recognizes it, his fingers toying with the material. ''This mine?''

''Yeah. You were outgrowing it anyway,'' you tease, turning around in his hold and playfully squeezing his biceps. He's been frequenting the gym increasingly more often, and it shows. You assume it's his way of blowing off steam now that he's not performing.

''Hm. It does look better on you,'' he grins, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hands trail lower. He gently tugs at the hem, waiting for your approval. ''Can I take this off?''

You hesitate, just a second, but it's enough to make him pause, watching you closely. It's not that you don't trust him, or don't want to, but you can already feel the air on your thighs, your stomach, the dip of your lower back. And the idea of being completely bare under his gaze, no barriers, no fabric, no layers to hide behind, suddenly feels a little too exposed. Too vulnerable.

Your hands catch his quickly, wrapping around his palms, though you know that Harry wouldn't move an inch without your consent.

''I… would it be okay if I kept it on? Just for now?'' you ask, cheeks burning. ''I don't think I'm comfortable being fully naked yet.''

There's not even a beat of silence before he nods, brushing your hair back behind your ear. ''Of course. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You look beautiful like this, too.''

Your hesitation doesn't frustrate or deter him. Instead, he reaches for the hem of his own shirt, and in one smooth motion, he pulls it up over his head and carelessly tosses it aside.

Your breath catches. He's so close that you can see the faint freckles adorning his collarbone, the gold cross nestled between his pecs, the trail of ink curling down his strong arms.

You reach out before you can second-guess it, fingers brushing across the small tattoos above his heart, the ones you've only ever seen half-hidden beneath his clothes. Your hand grazes the tattoos that trail down the skin of his left shoulder, his bicep, his arm, like a river that meanders delicately through a forest.

He watches you, quiet and confident, as your palm flattens over his chest. His skin is warm under your fingers, smooth and solid and real. You trace one of the swallows across his collarbone, then dip lower, brushing your knuckles down the line of his sternum. The ridges of his abs flex slightly beneath your touch.

''You're so…'' you trail off, suddenly embarrassed by your own awe.

Harry gives you a lopsided smile, like he knows what you mean without needing to hear it. ''Thank you, baby. You can touch me as much as you want,'' he says, voice thick with something more tender than lust. ''Take your time, darlin'. I'm not going anywhere.''

You lean up to kiss him, and when your hands settle around his hips, he presses forward just enough to guide you backward toward the bed. Your knees hit the edge of the mattress and you land with a soft thud. Harry follows, kneeling between your legs, one hand curling around the back of your thigh to pull it around his waist.

You shiver when his knuckles graze the edge of your shorts, and he catches the reaction immediately.

''Still okay?'' he murmurs against your lips.

''Yeah,'' you whisper. ''I just… don't know what I'm doing.''

''You don't have to,'' he insists. The sheets are cool against your skin, grounding, while Harry hovers over you, broad and warm and impossibly gentle and patient. ''That's what tonight's for, yeah? You tell me what feels good. What doesn't. I'll listen.''

His fingers stroke over the outside of your shorts first, featherlight at first, then with a little more pressure. Just enough to let the heat pool low in your belly, your thighs pressing together instinctively at the unfamiliarity of it all. You let out a soft, shaky breath.

He looks up at you, lips curved, eyes kind. ''That feel alright?''

''Mhm.''

''Use your words for me, baby,'' he teases lightly, but there's no pressure. Just playfulness.

You swallow. ''It feels… really good.''

That earns you a kiss, warm and sweet, and this time his hand drifts over your stomach, fingers brushing under the hem of your hoodie. He doesn't try to lift it again, just slips his palm beneath the fabric, splaying it over your skin, stroking your bare side.

His hands don't rush. They just keep tracing the shape of you, mapping the curves and valleys like they're sacred terrain. Then his fingers slide down past your navel, knuckles grazing your skin, brushing the waistband of your shorts.

You draw in a shaky breath.

''Still good?'' he asks, watching you.

You nod. ''Yes. Please.''

He smiles reassuringly and continues his trail down your shorts. His fingers move over the cotton, just the faintest pressure, barely there. But even that is enough to send a jolt through you, hips twitching in surprise when he brushes against your clothed clit.

You're more sensitive than you expected. Everything feels heightened: his breath on your cheek, the press of his fingers through the fabric, the weight of his gaze on your face.

''Feels good?''

You nod, unable to speak.

He strokes over the same spot a little more firmly this time, slow and rhythmic. ''You're already wet,'' he groans, almost like he's in awe. ''I haven't even done anything. Fuck, that's so hot.''

You flush, turning your face into his shoulder, and he chuckles softly. ''You don't have to be shy with me,'' he whispers. ''Nobody's around. It's just you and me, yeah? I've got you.''

You nod bashfully. His hand slips under the waistband of your shorts and slides your panties aside with a gentle tug. For the first time ever, someone else touches you where you've barely explored yourself, the pad of his finger dragging softly through your folds.

You tense instantly, just from the unfamiliarity of it, but he doesn't push. Just keeps it slow, gentle, careful, learning the way your body responds, noting every soft whine and every stutter of breath. It's a different kind of touch than your own. More assured. Confident, but not cocky. He's paying attention to every shift in your body, like your pleasure is a language and he wants to be fluent.

He finds your clit and circles it with the pad of his finger, light and teasing, until your hips lift from the bed with a choked whimper, and his pace quickens. You didn't know it could feel like this. Every nerve is lit up, like your skin is catching fire in the best way.

''Oh,'' you breathe out, your body sinking into the mattress as you sigh contently, the tension in your muscles melting away.

Harry smiles. ''Yeah?''

You nod, eyes fluttering shut, head thrown back against the pillow.

Harry glances up again, pride flickering in his expression. ''That good?''

''So good,'' you whisper.

He grins, but it's soft, not smug. He eases you further back onto the bed, and you go willingly, your legs falling open around his waist as he crawls down your body, pulling your shorts down with him as he goes, just enough to expose your panties to him.

Then he leans in and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh. And another, closer to the edge of your underwear. He hums low in his throat, like the scent of your arousal has undone something in him. His hand is still between your thighs, and he pushes a finger inside, just one for now, testing, studying your reaction, while his thumb keeps stroking your clit to keep you relaxed.

Your breath catches at the stretch. It's not painful, just… new. Unfamiliar. Full.

But it feels good. Better than anything you've ever felt on your own.

Harry leans his cheek against your inner thigh, watching your pussy accomodate to the stretch of his finger with awe etched onto his face. His eyes flick up to your face, searching your expression for any discomfort or pain. ''Too much?''

You shake your head. ''No. Feels… good.''

Then he kisses your thigh again, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his hot breath against your cunt, and you realize what he's planning.

But when you feel the first swipe of his tongue, it's too much.

You gasp and your hand flies to his hair, not tugging hard, just enough to pull him back. ''Wait. Sorry. That's... a little overwhelming.''

He pulls back instantly, looking up at you with such gentle understanding it nearly makes your heart burst out of your chest. ''Don't apologize. That's totally okay.''

''I don't know why,'' you say, cheeks warm. ''It's just… a lot.''

''It's okay, love. This is all brand new to you,'' he soothes, pressing a kiss to your thigh. ''We can save that for another night, yeah? We have all the time in the world to go slow, baby.''

There's no disappointment in his voice. No pressure. He's just... here. With you. For you. The realization tugs at your heartstrings.

You nod, and he climbs back up your body, propping himself up on one arm, letting you catch your breath as he hovers over you. The warmth between your legs lingers, building slowly as his hand starts to move again, hushed praises falling from his lips.

His touch is focused, fingers slow, right where you need them. This time, you relax into it. Let the tension coil in your belly, growing tighter and tighter with every slow circle of his fingers, every kiss he presses against your shoulder, your jaw, your temple.

Your breathing stutters. Your thighs clench. Your fingers dig into his forearm, making him groan. He curls his finger slightly and your back arches with a sudden, gasping moan.

''Harry, fuck—''

''There she is,'' he breathes. ''There you go, darlin'. That's it. Let go for me. You don't have to think. Just feel. I've got you.''

He keeps the rhythm steady, his thumb circling your clit, his finger curling inside of you. Your thighs tense, your hips stutter, and then your whole body locks up with a choked sound as the pleasure spills over all at once. Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave, sharp and sweet and overwhelming in the best way. Your fingers grip the bedsheets, and you can barely hear yourself moaning his name like a prayer, your breath stuttering out in broken gasps.

Harry's voice is low and tender as he eases you through it. ''That's it, baby. So good. So fucking good. You did so well for me.''

You're shaking while he helps you ride it out, only pulling his hand out of your shorts when you whine quietly in overstimulation, your chest heaving. His attention shifts to you immediately, cradling your face in his palm, brushing sweaty hair from your temple.

''You okay?''

''Yeah. Just…'' you swallow, blinking up at him, dazed. ''I think… I think that was my first real orgasm, Harry.''

He stills, his mouth curving into a slow smile. ''Yeah?'' he says, and he sounds so proud you could cry. ''That was your first?''

You nod again, cheeks hot. ''I thought I'd already had one, but it's never felt like that before. Not even close.''

He leans in to kiss you, cradling your cheek like you're the most precious thing he's ever laid his hands on. ''Fuck, baby. Thank you for letting me be the first. That means more than you know.''

He rolls over and plops down on the mattress with a content sigh, one arm falling over his eyes. You rest your head on his heaving chest, heart still pounding, and his other arm instantly wraps around you, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back.

Your body feels weightless, boneless, like you've melted into the sheets completely. The air around you is warm and still, the silence only broken by Harry's pants beside you.

The hem of his hoodie is still bunched around your thighs, and you're vaguely aware of the dampness between your legs and the faint throb in your muscles. It doesn't hurt, it just lingers, like your body is still catching up to the memory of being touched.

Harry presses a kiss to your temple, then leans up on one elbow, brushing your hair back gently.

''Stay here,'' he whispers. ''Gonna get you some water and a towel to clean you up, alright? I'll be right back, promise.''

You nod, dazed. His voice is so soft. So safe.

A few minutes pass while he moves around the room. You hear the faucet turn on in the bathroom, the clink of a glass against porcelain, the shuffle of his feet across the floorboards.

Everything is ordinary. Normal.

But the longer you lie there, the tighter your chest becomes.

It starts slow. A little whisper in the back of your mind. You did that. You let someone do that to you. You gave it away. It's over.

Your thighs are still damp. You feel the stickiness on your skin and suddenly you can't breathe quite right. Your heartbeat starts to pick up. A sour kind of shame crawls up your throat, thick and hot, choking you before you can swallow it down.

You shift in the bed, curling your legs up to your chest. Your fingers tighten in the sheets, knuckles turning white from your grip.

It was good. He was kind. You wanted it. So why do you feel like this?

The door creaks open again. Harry enters quietly, carrying a glass of water and a warm washcloth. His eyes go to you first, always to you, and the second he sees how you're curled in on yourself, his face tightens, his brows furrowing.

''Hey,'' he calls out gently, setting everything on the nightstand. ''What's wrong?''

You try to speak but your throat closes up. The tears come suddenly, a choked sob leaving your chest. One moment your eyes are just stinging, the next they're spilling over, silent and hot, streaming down your cheeks faster than you can wipe them away.

Harry's at your side in an instant.

''Baby…'' He kneels beside the bed, cupping your face in both hands, eyes scanning yours like he's desperate to read your mind. ''Talk to me. Did I hurt you? Was I too rough?''

You shake your head, but your voice is caught in your chest.

''Do you… do you regret it?'' he asks, and you hear the break in his voice. ''Did I do something wrong?''

''No,'' you whisper, your voice hoarse and cracked. ''No, it's not you. You didn't, Harry. You didn't do anything wrong. You were perfect.''

His brows pinch together, eyes searching, lips parting like he wants to understand so badly, but can't. ''Then what is it? What's hurting you, love? Please talk to me. Tell me so I can fix it.''

You swallow hard, wiping your tears in silent frustration, your voice small and scared. ''I just feel… gross. I feel dirty. I don't know why. I wanted it, and I don't... I don't regret it, but now that it happened I...'' you hiccup a sob. ''I feel so fucking ashamed.''

The words are like acid in your mouth. Saying them aloud makes them more real.

Harry's eyes soften instantly, his whole body folding toward you. He takes a seat next to you on the bed, pulls you into his arms gently. ''Oh, baby,'' he breathes out, cradling you against his chest. ''I'm so sorry, love. I should've realized how you were feeling sooner.''

You press your face into his shoulder, fists curling in the fabric of his sweatpants. ''It's not your fault,'' you whisper. ''I promise. I just… it's me. Something's wrong with me.''

''Nothing's wrong with you,'' he says, kind, but firm. Definitive. ''Nothing. This is so much more common than you think, baby. Especially when it's your first time.''

''Really?'' you ask, timid.

He pulls back slightly to look at you. ''Yeah, love. You can want it, and it can feel amazing, and you can still feel overwhelmed after. It's okay to feel both things at the same time,'' he gives you a pained smile, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. ''It's not because you did something bad. Not at all, baby. It's because we're taught to feel shame around sex. Especially women.''

You sniffle, the words loosening something in your chest.

''I just feel like I lost something,'' you say quietly, shame sinking into your bones. ''Something I can't get back. And I know I chose it. I don't regret it, I really don't, but it feels... sinful, almost. Like I should've saved it longer, or done it differently, or just… I don't know.''

Harry kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there. ''You didn't lose anything, darlin'. You shared something. With someone who loves being trusted by you. You didn't lose anything.''

Your eyes blur again at the softness in his voice. ''But it feels so wrong, and I know that doesn't make sense. You were gentle, and I wanted it, I loved it, and I still feel like I did something wrong.''

Harry wraps his arms tighter around you, holding you close like he can protect you from your own insecurities. ''It makes perfect sense,'' he says. ''You're not wrong for feeling this way. You're human. You're taught that virginity is something that gets taken from you. It's not. It's an experience you share, but nothing fundamental changes.''

You bury your face in his neck, your voice muffled. ''But why do I feel so small?''

''Because it was a big step,'' he says simply. ''Because it mattered. You've built this up in your head for so long, and maybe part of you started to think doing this would change you forever. But you're still the same person you were yesterday, baby.''

Your breath shudders and you collapse into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, and he just holds you, rocking you softly and murmuring sweet reassurances and praises into your hair.

Eventually, the tears ease. The ache in your chest dulls. You feel whole again, grounded. And you stay there, in his arms, breathing in the safety of his skin, until the world feels quiet again.

Harry kisses your hair and whispers, ''Wanna try that water now?''

You sniffle and nod, still tucked against him. ''Yeah. Thank you.''

He reaches for the glass and hands it to you, his fingers brushing yours. You bring it up to your lips and gratefully take a few sips before handing it back to him with a shaky smile.

''You okay to stay here with me tonight?'' he asks as he puts the glass back on his nightstand.

You nod again, taking in a shuddering breath. ''Please.''

He helps you under the covers and slips in beside you. You curl into his chest and he strokes your hair like it's second nature. Like holding you is something he was made to do.

''I think I'm in love with you.''

...

thank you so much for reading! i appreciate any and all support so remember to like, comment and reblog. requests are open! 💕

general tag list

@2601-london @mads3502 @angeldavis777 @run-for-the-hills @postsexfistbump @hobireasns @madilee7802 @spinninc @practistyles @qrapejuices @fangirl509east @sstylezzz @hontpwk @lichi-dunkera @prettygurl-2009 @violinheartxx @gotthecinema @ghstyles @triski73

teach me slowly series tag list

@maddiesalvatore1839 @mleestiles @imaginexxharry

...

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javierpena-inatacvest · 11 months ago

Text

Dirty Laundry

Summary: Life with two toddlers has taken a toll on your sex life for the past few weeks, but after a surprisingly calm morning, you and Javi find a creative solution to solve your problem.

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) vaginal fingering, paise kink, a breeding kink so dangerous that you may get pregnant just from reading, creampie, cum play, a loud washer and dryer, no actual laundry accomplished, domestic girl dad Javi, you'll always be famous

A/N: idk who unlocked my cell while I was ovulating, but once again I have escaped, and once again, we're makin' babies. I think I've convinced myself I don't know how to write anything else, and for that, I am genuinely sorry. If wanting to give Javier Peña a football team worth of kids is a crime, then lock me up and throw away the goddamn key 🤠

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

For as much as you loved your daughters, it was safe to say that for the past two weeks, your pair of rambunctious toddlers had been doing very little for your sex life.

Your 4 year old Lucy had been going through a phase of having nightmares every night, and somehow ending up in you and Javi’s bed no matter what you tried. That, combined with trying to potty train your 2 year old, Elliot, (who was nowhere close to being the breeze her older sister it was when it came to the matter), on top of preschool, work, and life in general, you and Javi had barely gotten so much as a kiss in, let alone some quality time together.

It had been your hope to start trying for baby number three, but after 2 months of negative pregnancy tests and another month of complete chaos, despite your best intentions, “trying” had very much taken a backseat in your mental to-do list.

But this morning when you woke up, it was almost as if a wave of calm had washed over your house to reset the state of disarray you had been in the past few weeks- Both girls had slept through the night in their own beds, had woken up in good spirits, Elliot asked to use the bathroom multiple times, and both had been happy to play in the living room together quietly as you worked on catching up on some much needed laundry.

So calm, in fact, that Javi was almost worried when he came downstairs for work to hear near silence, apart from the occasional giggles from the girls as they arranged their Fisher Price Little People in their Play Barn and the washer running in the background.

“Hi Daddy!” Lucy cooed, toddling over to her dad, wrapping her arms around his waist as Elliot quickly followed behind, perching on his leg like a koala.

“Buenos días, niñas. (Good morning, girls).” Javi grinned, squatting down to kiss the wild, sleepy curls of his daughters’ heads, still slightly confused by the tranquil state of the house. “Where’s Momma?”

“Washing stinky socks.” Lucy giggled, pinching her nose and scrunching her face, pretending to have smelled something bad.

“Yeah, stinky socks.” Elliot echoed, sticking out her tongue.

“Oh yeah? Is it because my pollitas (little chickens) have stinky, smelly feet?” Javi teased, wrapping his arms around the girls, pulling them close to his chest as he tickled their sides, the three erupting in laughter and giggles.

“What’s goin’ on out here, huh?” You grinned, stepping out of the laundry room with your arms playfully crossed against your chest to see your husband and daughters in a tickle tackle pile on the living room floor.

“Daddy said we have stinky feet! Daddy’s got stinky feet, not me and Elliot.” Lucy protested.

“I think you and Daddy both have stinky feet, Lucy Lu, and your dirty laundry proves it.” You smiled, watching Javi give one last big kiss to each of the girls before pushing up off the floor with a grunt, making his way over to you. “Good morning, Mr. Stinky Feet.”

“Hey, c’mon now. I can’t have you all gangin’ up on me.” Javi pouted through his smirk, wrapping his arm around your waist as his lips softly met yours, his words sweet and low as they danced against your skin. “Good morning, Hermosa.”

His kiss lingered just long enough to send butterflies swirling through your stomach, biting down on your lip to try and keep your heart beating any faster than it already was. You stood there for another moment, eyes locking with his as the grip around your waist tightened just subtly enough to hint his mind was in the same place as yours.

You were finding a way to finally have sex this morning.

You could feel the arousal already beginning to pool in your core, swallowing hard as Javi tilted his head and raised his eyebrows at you while his hand slid further down your waist towards your ass, trying to devise a plan for the two of you to be alone long enough to do what you had both been so desperately craving these past few weeks.

As you turned your head back over your shoulder in search of ideas, a devilish grin spread across your face, looking back to Javi to gently tug on the maroon tie dangling from his neck, twisting the end through your fingers.

“I think I really need help with the laundry before you leave for work.” You mewled, leaning in to press another kiss to his plush lips, followed by another on his cheek and neck, Javi letting a soft groan rumble in his chest.

“Oh Fuck, baby. What do we do about the girls?” He asked quietly, trying his best to keep his composure as the dark brown of his eyes grew hungrier with want.

“Snack and a movie? There’s already a baby monitor out in the living room, and if we put on “The Little Mermaid”, it should buy us enough time.” You nodded in reassurance of your own idea, already growing antsy with anticipation.

“God, I love you.” Javi smirked, giving you one more kiss and a firm squeeze of your ass before breaking away towards the kitchen so you could execute your plan.

“Hey girls?” you called, making your way towards the living room where they were back to playing, “Daddy needs to help Mommy with some, um- laundry. So if we put on “The Little Mermaid”, can you show us what big girls you are and let you watch the movie all by yourselves?” You asked, doing your best to play up your request.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Elliot squealed, clapping and stomping her feet. “Wittle Mermaid!”

“Okay, go get your blankets and sit on the couch and Daddy’s gonna bring you a snack to watch the movie with.”

“Yay! Movie time, movie time!” Lucy shrieked as the girls ran to go grab their things, plopping themselves on to the respective corners of the couch. While you searched for the VHS in the entertainment center, Javi returned from the kitchen with two much bigger than needed bowls of Teddy Grahams, turning on the TV as you pushed the tape into the receiver and pressed play.

With the bright blue Disney logo appearing across the screen and your daughters both happily snuggled with their snacks on the sofa, you and Javi gave each other the silent nod of approval, slowly backing away towards the laundry room while the girls sat in content and entranced silence.

After one last peek, you carefully closed and locked the laundry room door behind you, quickly followed by turning on both the washing machine and the dryer, trying to do yourself any favors you could by drowning out any suspicious sounds.

“Good?” Javi asked once more for reassurance, feeling his slacks get tighter and tighter around his crotch by the second as he waited for your response.

Without a single word, your lips were crashing into his, a messy dance of tongues and teeth ensuing between you as your bodies bumped against the laundry room counter, limbs tangled together in a frantic race to remove clothes.

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed this.” Javi groaned, helping you slide your top over your head and unclip your bra as he nipped at your neck, pushing your back against the dryer and caging your body under him.

“I know, baby, me t-too.” You whimpered, reaching out to undo Javi’s belt buckle, shoving his pants down to his thighs, followed by his boxers, freeing his cock as it slapped against the dark hairs on the happy trail of his stomach. “Missed having your big dick inside me.”

“Fuck.” Javi swore under his breath as you reached out to stroke him, swiping your thumb over his weeping tip to rub the precum up and down his shaft as he shoved your the waistband of your pants and underwear down your hips just far enough to let them fall to the floor around your ankles.

As much as you both desperately wanted to take your time, worshiping every inch of each other’s bodies until you had nothing left to give, you knew time was not on your side. After a few more strokes, you pulled back, letting Javi snake his hand against your body to slide between your legs, the slightest graze of his fingertips already making you shutter with need.

At this point, even after the few weeks it had been without Javi inside you, you were wet enough that you could have taken him without any warm up, your core dripping with your arousal to the point it was smearing the inside of your thighs with its shiny coating. But even with your cunt soaking wet and time working against you, Javi couldn’t help but drag his fingers through your folds, curling to push up into your tight hole and prod against your g-spot.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so wet. This all for me, Momma? Missed me fillin’ you up with my cock? Missed me fucking you full of my cum, huh baby?” Javi growled, his words shooting straight to your cunt, making you clamp down tighter around his fingers and your clit throb with intensity.

It had been a minute since baby making had been at the forefront of your mind, but his question set off something animalistic in the both of you, knowing that right now could give you a chance at baby number three that you had been wishing for.

“Y-yes, Javi, fuck- want you to fill me up, baby. Want you to fill me up until you fuck a baby into me.”

It was then that Javi couldn’t have been more thankful that you had turned on the washer and dryer to try and drown out your noise, because the groan he let escape from his parted lips was much louder than he intended.

But then again, there were few things in this world that turned him on more than you begging him to knock you up, so what did he expect?

Scooping his arms under your thighs, Javi hoisted you on top of the dryer, your ass hitting the cold, vibrating metal with a thud as your lips collided again with desperate ferocity, muffled moans escaping from your mouths.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl. Want me to knock you up again, Momma? Give you another baby?” Javi smirked, reaching to line his cock up with your entrance, swiping his tip through your folds to collect your slick and coat it along his length before he pushed inside you, sinking deeper and deeper until he bottomed out, hips flush with yours.

Words couldn’t describe how much you had missed the sweet stretch and sting of Javi’s fullness, each inch of him feeling better than the last, sobbing out as his tip kissed your cervix, all inhibitions of self-composure completely tossed out the window. Still sunk deep in your cunt, Javi’s hand shot over your mouth, stifling your cries in his palm.

“Shhhhhh, I know, Osita. You gotta keep quiet though, baby.”

You nodded frantically in compliance, Javi’s hand dropping to grip around your waist as you tried to catch your breath. “M-move, Javi, please.” Your whimpering request borderlining pathetic with how badly you needed him.

“You promise you’re gonna be a good girl and keep quiet?”

“Mhmmmm. I promise, baby, please.”

With that, Javi’s hips began to snap, dragging his cock in and out of you at a dangerous pace, coating the walls with the sounds of the wet sounds of your cunt and slapping skin, muffled by the washer and dryer.

“Oh my God, Javi. Fuck. Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined, locking your legs behind the small of Javi’s back, keeping him as close to you as possible as he fucked in and out of you. You draped your arms around his shoulders, fingers burying themselves in the dark curls at the nape of his neck.

The closeness had the hairs at the base of his cock rubbing deliciously against your clit, adding to the tension beginning to build at the base of your spine, both of you knowing it wouldn’t take long to get where you needed to go after weeks without being able to have each other like this.

Javi could feel it too, his balls beginning to tense with each pump, using every ounce of self control to keep from preemptively spilling into you, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, holding on to you like his life depended on it.

“Jesus, Fuck- Fuck, I missed this tight little pussy so much. Gonna cum so deep inside you. So deep it’s gotta fucking take. God, you’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant. I swear I’ll give you as many babies as you want, Hermosa.” Javi babbled, biting down on his lip as he pounded into you, reaching one of his hands down to circle at your wet, puffy clit, aching to be relieved from all the built up tension.

At this point, you were so drunk on pleasure that you could barely remember your own name, feeling your orgasm begin to build through every inch of your body in a way that had you seeing stars, digging your fingernails into Javi’s shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck to keep from crying out his name, forcing yourself to whisper incoherent sweet nothings against his skin.

“P-please, Javi. F-fill me up. Oh shit- Fuck, baby, I’m so close.”

Javi’s thrusts became sloppier and more erratic, fingers rubbing your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to coax your orgasm out of you before he followed suit, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow in intense concentration.

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over me. Soak my fucking cock before I fuck you full of me and knock you up. C’mon, Momma.”

Suddenly, your orgasm crashed through you, lighting your body up like a goddamn Christmas tree, every inch of your body radiating with bliss as you clamped down around Javi’s cock, biting down on his shoulder as you came to try and stifle your cries.

Javi was only moments behind you, letting out a low grunt with the final sutter of his hips as he came, coating your walls with his warm spend, fucking it into with every ounce he had left until he had milked himself dry.

Your bodies collapsed into each other, rising and falling in sync with heavy breaths like you had just finished the last mile of a marathon and collapsed at the finish line, damp and sticky with your sweat.

As much as Javi didn’t want to pull out, he could feel his cock beginning to soften and the mixture of your spend leaking from your hole. Refusing to let a drop go to waste, he pulled out of you, a groan rumbling low in his chest as he wrapped his hand around his length, dragging his tip up through your folds and collecting the cum that had been dripping out. Taking the wet mess he had gathered with his cock, he pushed himself back into you, slowly thrusting in and out of you, a devilish smirk spreading across his face at the absolutely obscene sound coming from between your legs.

“Promise me,” Javi gulped between pants, finally pulling out of you again, “Promise we never go this long without having sex again. Holy Fuck.”

“Promise.” You couldn’t help but giggle in agreement, coming down from your blissed out high. “God, that was the longest two weeks ever. Don’t know why we didn’t think of this sooner.”

“Because we’ve been sleep deprived and exhausted, and our little monstros (monsters) have been giving us a run for our money.” Javi chuckled, reaching behind you to grab a towel from the cabinet above the dryer, quickly rinsing it in the sink before wiping you up and helping you find all of your clothes.

“Are we crazy for wanting another one?” You asked, looking down at your stomach, thinking about the ramifications of what you had just done.

“Maybe. But you drive me so fucking crazy, we may end up with 10 before you know it.”

“Javi! Dear lord, we are not having 10 kids, you psycho.” You laughed, playfully slapping your husband on the shoulder.

“Stop being so hot and I’ll stop knockin’ you up.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you as you rolled your eyes at him knowing damn well you’d have a whole army of his kids if he really wanted.

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. Alright, you need to get your ass to work and I need to feed the gremlins before I drop Lucy off at preschool. Let’s go, cowboy.” You grinned, playfully smacking Javi on the ass, giving him a quick kiss as you made your way towards the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Osita. I gotta remember to call my dad on the way into work.”

“Call your dad? Why?”

“To see if Abuelo can take the girls this weekend so you and I can catch up on a lot of laundry.”

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @purpleprincess75 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

@purpleprincess75

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love-and-war-on-cybertron · 7 months ago

Note

Imagine this ✋😌🤚 (Transformers Prime Wise) everyone is in the base chilling and the kids randomly start talking about who’s the most attractive of the bots (based on whatever random criteria list Miko made). while they are all going on about why their personal bot would definitely be popular they start arguing and suddenly call out to reader (who has been minding their business on the couch distracted reading a book or something) and asks them which autobot is most attractive, reader instinctively and with absolutely no hesitation blurts out the bot thats been on their mind for a while nonchalantly acting as if they didn’t pretty much confess their attraction and said bot definitely heard them. (I would love Ratchet or bulkhead, or bumblebee whichever one is easier to write for)(loved your Rodimus fic btw it was so cute 10/10) sorry this request was so long, it’s completely fine if you don’t wanna write this 😭

No need to apologize!! I'm so glad you liked the Rodimus one, it got rewritten like four times XP I still need to catch up on TFP, but I'm a little more familiar with Ratchet from it. I hope you enjoy!

Ratchet was too busy working to pay attention to what the humans were up to. This part had been busted for a week and he needed it for his next project. The talk was nothing but an annoying buzz in the background, occasionally becoming loud enough for him to huff or grunt to try and get them to quiet down.

Something about who the most attractive bot was. How childish! the criteria listed by Miko wasn't anywhere near Cybertronian beauty standards. What did a human know about biolights and kibble? The angular chassis of a tank compared to the smooth curves of a racer frame? This kids would make their observations and laugh, especially when Decepticons were the topic. Prime was called a "daddy" and Bee had "Puppy energy".

"What about you, Y/N?"

Ratchet listens a little closer, but still keeps his focus on his work. You weren't a child, and had a decent processor in that head of yours. You might have some sense not to play this stupid game.

"Ratchet."

Hwat?

Ratchet almost drops his tools in surprise. You, the only human he thought had some sense think he's attractive. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees that you had been just as busy as him when the questioning started. Sat on the couch with your book, looking around, stumbling over yourself to explain. He caught some of it: intelligent, skilled. Handsome for a robot.

Miko seemed to spearhead the grilling despite being the one to start the whole thing.

When you glance in Ratchet's direction, he sees your eyes widen and how quickly you look down when they meet his optics. Shame? Embarrassment? It doesn't sit right to see you teased. Just because you can appreciate an older bot.

"What's so funny?" Ratchet scoffs, "at least one of your kind has some taste." He turns away from the console and over to the platform. Bee chirps and nudges him before getting shoved away by the doctor. "Isn't it time you all leave?"

He leans close, glaring at the kids. Miko tries snarking back about the weekend but Raf mentions a movie playing. Bee volunteers to take them home, perfect excuse for him to go to the drive in.

Wheeljack heads out with them, raising an optic ridge at the medic as he passes by. It's just the two of you left. Ratchet shift, glancing back at you. You don't look at him, sitting back on the couch with your book. Body tense and heated. Trying to look casual and relaxed and clearly anything but.

He vents out and looks back at his project, then at you again. "So... got a thing for old bots huh?"

You hunch down, gripping your book tighter. "Ratchet, I-"

"You uh… sticking around?" He interrupts, "I could use some help."

You peek up over your book. Ratchet had you help a couple times, small hands being able to reach places. And again, being the only human in this base that he thinks has a lick of sense.

"Sure... Yeah..." You put the book down and smile.

Ratchet smiles back, offering his servo for you to climb on.

#tfp ratchet x reader #ratchet x reader #ratchet x human #transformers x reader #transformers x human #hmmmmm tell me if this is bad #i have mixed feelings on this

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leqonsluv3r · 5 months ago

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bfd!leon kennedy headcanons

—bfd!leon kennedy x fem!reader, a headcanon list

masterlist taglist prompt game

bfd!leon kennedy who meets you when his daughter comes home from college for the summer. he thinks your beautiful instantly but he knows that you’re very young. so much younger then him. he can’t act on it. no matter how much he wants too.

bfd!leon kennedy who watches as you unpack some of your stuff to stay in the guest room for the summer, watching you and trying not to seem to obvious about it. the way your ass strains against your jean shorts…no, no. he can’t think of that. despite how good you look bent over like that.

bfd!leon kennedy who picks up a couple things from the store for you and his daughter. only wanting the best for his little girl. but he also wanted the best for you too, that’s why he bought all your favorites. it’s secretly fun to watch you when he opens the grocery bags, seeing your eyes light up.

bfd!!leon kennedy who sits next to you one afternoon, watching a movie on tv with you. his daughter had left you to go run some errands in town. he hadn’t been alone with you up until this point and it was making him antsy, almost nervous at how close you were to him. like you could. just reach out and touch him…just move your fingers two inches closer to his.

bfd!leon kennedy who feels you rest your head on his shoulder in the middle of the movie, your thigh pressed against his. it shouldn’t have the effect it has on him but it does, he feels your hand resting on his thigh, right near his groin. he tried to stay focused on the movie but your hand was so close, it just needed to move up a couple inches.

bfd!leon kennedy who tries to ignore all the guilt he has for you being so much younger then him. he’s older, he is not the man he used to be. but that apparently doesn’t phase you. your hand palms his erection over his jeans with your pretty manicured nails and suddenly it’s 10x harder for him to find a reason not to flip you over and fuck you senseless on his couch.

bfd!leon kennedy who lets you suck him off on his couch while the forgotten movie plays in the background. your head moving up and down as his fingers weave into your hair, gently guiding you. he tries to resist the urge to buck up into your mouth but he holds back. he doesn’t want to scare you or worst of all, hurt you. you take his dick like a champ, sucking on him like a lollipop as you look up at him from under your eyelashes.

bfd!leon kennedy who finishes in your mouth and makes you swallow all of his cum. praising you with, “you did so well, sweetheart” to “such a good little slut for daddy”. it seems to have the desired effect, your pupils blown wide as you gaze up at him. he wipes his thumb over your bottom lip, clearing any saliva or his release off your face before pulling you up to meet his lips in a slow languid kiss. and one thing is for sure when he’s kissing you; he’s definitely going to hell.

bfd!leon kennedy who in the days following will find the time to fuck you. whenever his daughter is off doing something and you have no plans, he fucks you. either bending you over the kitchen counter, the guest bed, the couch, the kitchen table…anywhere he can bend you over and fuck you. he’s doing it. no questions asked. but that’s not the only thing he does.

bfd!leon kennedy who lets you suck him off whenever you want. he could never deny you that when you look so pretty doing it. on your knee’s in front of him, looking up at him through your thick lashes as you bring him to the edge. he has never seen a more beautiful sight then that.

bfd!leon kennedy who eats you out, he’s not the only one getting oral pleasure after all. he loves eating you out until your practically crying for him to stop. he could do it for hours, hearing you scream his name over and over, hearing you whimper and whine. the feeling of your manicured nails digging into his skull practically sends him through a spiral in his old age. every time he’s between your thighs, he swears he’s died and gone to heaven.

bfd!leon kennedy who lets you call him daddy when he fucks you. he doesn’t know why it gets him so turned on, the most taboo thing in the book. but he lets you do it, hearing it echo out of your pretty pink lips as he fucks his length into you, will never not get him closer to climax. letting you call him daddy during sex is probably one of the best decisions he’s ever made, right next to fucking you to begin with.

bfd!leon kennedy who starts to feel things. things he hasn’t felt since his wife left him, he loves you deep down. he’s gotten attached and he doesn’t know if you feel the same. because why would you? you guys just fuck. plus, he’s older. he’s well into his late 30’s by now. and your such a vibrant young woman, he doesn’t want to hold you back at all. doesn’t want you to regret life if you choose to stay with him, if he confesses and you feel the same.

bfd!leon kennedy who is oblivious to the way you feel about him. summer is almost over. how are you supposed to tell him how you really feel? and what if he turns you down, tells you your too young for him. you don’t want to think about it, about what he could possibly say to you when he tells you no, or if he does. but you need to take the risk, even if it ends up hurting you or embarrassing you.

bfd!leon kennedy who cuddles with you in his bed one night. the tension between both of you thick to cut with a knife. you just open your mouth and tell him, not brave enough to turn around and look him in the eye but admitting your feelings all the same. you feel his arm tense and flex where he holds your stomach, but you continue telling him anyways as things hang in the air. you wait a couple agonizing minutes for him to reply. your heart thudding in your chest as you wait for what could make or break your future.

bfd!leon kennedy who hears your confession in the intimate air of his bedroom, after dark, his heart thudding in his own chest as you list off a confession, you want to be with him. you love him, you don’t care that he’s older and just all the glue that makes him feel better about being in bed next to you. your words soothe a balm over his soul and his conscience. your fixing all the cracks in his morals with every word that leaves your mouth. he almost pinches himself a couple times to make sure he’s not dreaming. but he’s not, your really talking and telling him what you feel. its real.

bfd!leon kennedy who pulls your back closer to his chest and presses a kiss to the back of your neck, whispering that he feels the same. that the struggles ahead — college, a long distance relationship and the relationship with his daughter, your best friend — will be figured out together. that he would do anything for you. even risk his life, he would gladly do it without even thinking about it, thats how much you mean to him.

bfd!leon kennedy who feels you turn in his embrace, your hand meeting his scruffy jaw, pulling his lips to yours in a tender kiss. pouring all your love that you can’t convert for him into the kiss. the simple action makes it worth it for him. no matter what the future looks like you have him with you every step of the way. you finally have each other. body, heart and mind. and nothing could ever measure up too it.

an: let me know if you guys enjoyed this, seriously thinking about writing a oneshot based off of this or maybe a pt.2 to the head canon list? let me know if that’s something you guys would be interested in. also, two updates in the span of a week?? who am i lol. i love you all. pls reblog and like, see you guys soon. xx

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @porcelainseashore @squazmine @spfoah @jmivenus @rcttendolly @melankkholy (if you would like to join my taglist, visit the link at the beginning or the one linked on my blog!)

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dreaamdiary · 3 months ago

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ꗃ ˖ ࣪ 𓂃 ✦ FWB!CHRIS X BAMBI!READER BREAKFAST AT BAMBI’S (nsfw)

you stood at the counter, waffles slowly baking, whisking your morning matcha, with some faye playing in the background. completely unaware of the effect you were having on chris, who wasn't even fully awake yet.

just following the scent of something sweet and warm from your guest room to the kitchen, rubbing a hand through his messy hair.

"damn," chris exhaled the words, barely above a murmur. "good morning to me, yeah?"

you nearly jumped out of your body as you turned to see chris standing in the middle of the kitchen, lazy smirk and eyes barely open.

your hand lies on your chest, feeling the fast heart beat, “oh my god, you scared the shit outta me.”

“what, m’not aloud to come out my room either?”

he walks closer to the counter with his usual sarcastic tone, referencing last night’s memory of going into a thirty minute debate on whether he could sleep in bed with you or not, obviously fucking not. you knew him long enough to peep the games he plays.

“no like i completely forgot you were here, thought you were an intruder or some shit,” you go back to whisking the matcha, actively trying to ignore the fact that chris now has you trapped between him and the counter, his hands on either side of you and head resting on your shoulder.

“you got zero survival skills then, could’ve easily took your ass down, that’s why you need me here baby.” his eyes traveled from the swirling drink to your body. he traced every curve with his eyes, practically salivating at the mouth.

“it’s way too early for that bullshit chris.”

“nobody’s bullshiting you, i gotta protect my girl at all times.”

as much as chris tried to be respectful and not piss you off this morning, he was done with holding himself back. he moves his hands from the counter to snaking them around your waist, pressing his boner against sheer material covering your ass.

you feel yourself cracking a smile so you tilt your head down— fully looking into the mug below, still ignoring but not pushing away. “my who, sorry?”

he didn’t give a response, his fingers slide under the edge of the lace trim on your top, scorching your skin with every move. you gasp softly feeling a mix of heat and adrenaline, not wanting to give in so quickly, sure you’ve kissed a few times and got a little touchy when on one’s around but you didn’t let it get further than that, that’s was until now.

his cool breathe makes the hairs on your neck stand up, you could tell he was hesitant about something the way his body stuttered and all you wanted was for him to do whatever he was thinking about.

and finally he does, head sinking in your neck, leaving long lingering kisses while his hands scrunched your shorts up your thighs. he bites down lightly and lets the sting fade into warmth, soothing the area with his tongue.

“mmph, chris” you whimper as he continues to nip at your neck.

he chuckles in response before grabbing you by the hips, using them to turn you around. his dark brows pulled together slightly, eyes locked in on you and head tilted a little. “y’liked that, huh?”

your soft giggle cracked through the tension, his ice blue eyes making nerves tingle in your chest. chris’ smirk spreads slow across his face before he’s gently holding your jaw, lifting it to meet you half way.

their lips collide like they’ve been kept apart for too long— his kiss deep and hungry, lips moving steady against yours, making your knees go weak. his hands slid lower— possessive, gripping and kneading your ass, invoking series of moans into his mouth.

he breaks away, a string of saliva pulling from your lips, toying with the waistband of your shorts. “can i take these off baby?”

you froze in place, hands still wrapped around his neck, faces just centimeters apart as the gears in your head turned. weighing the positive and negative, thinking back on your list of morals, wether you should let some guy you’ve know for three months go down on you, but he was so pretty.

and to be fair it wasn’t some random guy, it was chris. the guy who kept her company during slow shifts at the shop, who brought you food when you didn’t have time to step away from work, the guy who’d text you every night asking about your day or if you got home safely. in the short span of knowing him, he’s proven himself to be a good man— a good friend and you could ultimately say you trusted him.

you nodded your head with parted lips, like you were in awe with the man who stood before you.

“use your words sweet girl.”

you swallow the lump in your throat and at this point your breathing was manual. “yes..please.”

that’s all he wanted.

he kissed you once more before he’s messaging your breast, squeezing your waist then hooking his fingers at your waistband. he tugs your shorts down, teasingly placing open- mouthed kisses over your hips and inner thighs, running his large hands along the thick skin, causing you to jolt up.

he bends you over the counter, leaving kisses on each ass cheeks. “spread your legs f’me,” he instructs, just above a whisper.

your top half is laying across the counter while chris is crouching under you legs, hovering over your dripping wet mound as you basically sit on his face. his thumb toys with your clit, playing with the slick of your pussy before latching his lips onto it. a shaky moan slips past your lips, soft and drawn out.

chris fully dives deep into your pussy— tongue lapping at your juices, nose bumping against your clit like it was the button triggering broken moans that shoot from your throat.

your grinding your hips into his face, so needy for his mouth, and he’s gripping your fatty flesh, keeping you grounded in case you tried to get away and muffling groans at the taste of your nectar.

“mmmh—“

he was was so messy with it, barbaric even. sucking harshly on the bundles of nerves, drinking you in like a fountain as you over flowed in his mouth, juices and spit streaming down his neck, you biting your lip while whining through the overwhelming sensation, not feeling this type of pleasure in a while.

chris follows by inserting his fingers in your tight hole, making you gasp for air and throw your head back, feeling so full with just his thick callused fingers. he twists them in and out, coming up for air and letting out a more than satisfied grunts on your skin.

“fuck baby—” he licks a strip of your drenched cunt, “you’re so sweet f’me—” he licks another strip, “so pretty, so, so, fuckin pretty,” this time he suctions your clit, stretching it up before releasing it with a giggle.

“your perfect sweetheart.”

he buries himself in your puffy folds, shaking his head all around, slurping you up like it’s his last meal, smacking his lips on your pussy as if you were a true delicacy— you were in his eyes.

your an absolute mess, trembling in his firm hold and eyes watering up. “god, right there, right there,” you cried, voice high and needy hips jerking uncontrollably as you felt yourself dancing on the edge of your climax, pressure just threatening to snap.

“nugh, chris, chris, chris,” you hide your face in your arms, unraveling completely, body clenching and pulsing as you release your pleasure all over his face while he continues to lap it up.

“c’mon pretty you can do better than that.”

chris applies light slaps to your overstimulated cunt, looking for more out of you. squealing and squirming before juices squirt out of you drenching him from head to toe.

chris remained on his knees taking you in like art. wet lips parted, your dripping from his chin— his nose and his finger in his mouth, sucking you off.

you nearly collapse on the hard wood floor with him, legs feeling like jelly before chris catches you, carefully placing you down on his lap and pulling you in for another kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips.

“you’re fuckin incredible and you taste so good ma,” he slips in tongue in your mouth, swirling it around and rubbing your cheeks before you pull away.

“you smell that?” like clockwork the smoke alarm sounds, cause you guys to jump up being met with smoke coming from your waffle maker and spilled matcha pouring over the counter.

𓏲ִ ⋆₊⊹. masterlist ╱ taglist ╱ tagpage

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borathae · 4 months ago

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Lunch Break | MYG x f.Reader

“Min Yoongi is many a thing in your life. Coworker, superior, best friend and beloved long-term boyfriend. Yes, that’s right. You are dating your boss. It’s a lot easier than it sounds. You get to live together, get to go to work together and get to spend lunch break together. Problem is, Yoongi decided to wear his pretty blue button-up today and this shirt has a rather lethal effect on you. Thankfully, he has his own private office.“

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: coworkers!AU, established relationship!AU, office romance!AU, Smut

Warnings: office worker!yoongles in glasses <3, soft boyfie!yoongles who is shy about pda <3, secret cuddlebug!yoongles, unapologetic flirting by OC while he blushes, spending lunch break in his office, sub!Yoongi, soft Domme!Reader, a quickie in his office chair, clothed sex (he only takes his dick out and she keeps her skirt on), blowjob, handjob, a lil bit of edging, unprotected penetrative sex, kissing, slight dirty talk, lipstick stains all over his lips and neck, finger sucking (m.giving), not a lot of kink is happening tbfh she is horny and he can't say no to her cause he is also horny but would never confess it jdfjsa, this is cute and sexy (just like yoongi)

Wordcount: 5.5k

a/n: yet again, this is an idea from kinktober24 which didn't make it on the official list but which i NEEDED on my blog <3 subby office worker!yoongi is my secret weakness and this yoongi is just so dreamy 💜 ps: happy birthday boongs, i really miss you :(

“Have you seen my glasses?” he asks, busy with packing his bag.

“They’re on your head, baby”, you tell him, putting on lipstick.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Always happy to help.”

You finish. Yoongi swerves in behind you, running his hand over your waist innocently. Your body communicates with him easily, moving out of the way so he can use the hallway mirror next.

He makes sure that his button up sits correctly, while you put on your heels and jacket. He glances at you over the brim of his glasses.

“Wait. Let me”, he offers, helping you slip it on.

“Thank you.”

He kisses your cheek and steps back, picking up his thermos of coffee and the car keys.

“Are we ready to go?”

“Wait, last check. Yup, we’re ready.”

You and he live on the fourth floor, taking the elevator down to the apartment complex’ parking garage. You hold hands as you walk to your car together and you hold his thermos while he drives. He rubs your knee each time you stop at a red light, while you hand him the thermos so he can enjoy his morning coffee.

You and he don’t talk a lot, sharing silence which a podcast fills. The two of you have become obsessed with listening to a music podcast together. It’s been your background noise while you cook, clean and wash up at night and while you drive to work together. It is a really nice tradition because you and he have so much more to talk about.

If this story didn’t make it clear up until this point, you and Yoongi are together. You met at work seven years ago and fell in love two years later. He asked you if you wanted him as your boyfriend on your fourth date and last year in June, you asked him if he wanted to look for a shared apartment.

Dating him is easy because he is the most lovable person ever and disagreements between you and him are beyond rare. And if they happen, they are always healthy and calm. He makes you feel loved daily and ever since you and he moved in together, you feel settled in life. As if he is truly it for you. The one true love you will always have.

Dating him is also incredibly fun and exciting. He is quiet and calm on most days, but sometimes he gets really hyper and dorky and it always makes you laugh when he goofs around.

In return, Yoongi constantly finds himself with an aching belly from laughing too much with you. Just as much as he feels at peace. Being with you feels safe and as if he is finally where he always belonged.

Dating however, also means that you are in love with your co-worker and you have to act professional at your workplace. Which is sometimes very difficult to do because you are basically obsessed with him.

Your other colleagues know that you and he are together, your higher ups know too. It was a little bit of a scandal at first, but they simply had to learn to live with it. You and Yoongi are a thing which will keep being a thing. So it isn't like you and he are a secret, but Yoongi is also very shy about public displays of affection. Especially when it comes to PDA in a professional environment. The touchiest thing you will get from him is a cheeky shoulder rub or getting your hand held in the elevator to your office.

He also holds it on your way to your desk, greeting your shared colleagues as you pass them.

Yoongi has been at this company three years longer than you and works in management, which naturally makes him superior to you in hierarchy. It also means that he gets his own private office, while you have to share an open space office with some of your colleagues. You don’t mind because the people you work with are, thankfully, all very sweet and being so separated during work also gives you and Yoongi a sense of still being independent adults living their individual lives.

Like every morning, Yoongi leaves you by your desk.

“See you at lunch break”, he says his goodbyes, rubbing your shoulder.

“Yes. See you then.”

And then he already makes his way to his office while you get ready for the next four hours of work.

You take a short coffee break two hours into your morning shift. You do a little stretch upon standing up, then make your way to the shared break room. It is empty, safe for Yoongi who is making himself coffee. He rolled up the sleeves of his button up by now. You have to fight every single fiber in your body not to bite his lower arm. Or slap his butt for that matter. He has a really great butt.

“Well hello there handsome, fancy seeing you here”, you greet him.

Yoongi looks over his shoulder, “oh, hey. Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’m making it.”

You close the distance and back hug him, resting your cheek against him. As expected, Yoongi tenses up.

“We’re at work”, he says.

“I know and it’s just the two of us right now. I’m just really needy for you today.”

“Hush, keep your voice down”, he whispers, turning in your arms. He looks panicked. “Don’t be so dirty.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, doofus. I just think that you’re really handsome in your button up. Blue is really your colour.”

“Oh. Thanks”, he mumbles and looks to the side shyly.

“Mhm yeah” you say, gazing at him with love drunk eyes.

“Okay uhm”, he shimmies out of your hug and turns to the coffee machine. It is so obvious to you that he currently feels shy.

Which is so endearing to you. It is one of the reasons why you fell for him. In the beginning phase where you still tried to fight the tension, he was so lovably clumsy and nervous with his words whenever he talked to you and it charmed you beyond repair.

These days, one of your favourite pastime activities is flirting with him just to get him shy. He always blushes when this happens and it is so adorable.

You join his side, leaning against the counter and looking at his face. The faintest of pink adorns his cheeks. Cute.

“How’s it going?” you ask him.

“Good. I need to go through grant applications today.”

“Oh, sounds important.”

“Yeah, it is. And you?”

“Good too. I spend most of my time thinking of you.”

Yoongi glances at you for a brief moment and looks away again. He stays silent, but the blush grows.

You snicker, reaching out to give his upper arm a tender rub.

“Sorry, gosh I’m bullying you today, aren’t I?”

“A little. I don’t know how to react.”

“Sorry, I know I know. I’m already stopping. It’s your shirt, it makes me like this.”

“Why? It’s a shirt.”

“It’s a sexy shirt.”

He glances again and frowns.

“Fine, this was the last flirt, I promise”, you give up, chuckling.

Yoongi stays silent, handing you the cup of coffee. He turns to face you, leaning his hip against the counter.

“Gosh, you’re so handsome.”

“Baby, you said no more flirting”, he whines, pouting.

“I’m not flirting, I’m being honest. You’re so handsome.”

Sadly for you, a few of your co-workers enter the break room. Yoongi uses the opportunity to flee the situation. Not because he doesn’t want to spend time with you, but because he can’t take any more of your very amazing flirting.

“See you at lunch.”

“Yes, see you. Lunch. Very soon”, you say, following him with your eyes dreamily.

“So, I finally asked Mingyu for his number”, your colleague says, pulling you into a conversation about her love life. Yoongi is gone for now, but not forgotten. Of course he isn’t. The image of him in his blue button up with his sleeves rolled up will haunt you for the rest of your morning shift.

Your company is insanely generous with the amount of lunch break you are getting. A full hour of paid lunch time is part of the contract. Just like on most days, you are one of the last people to leave for lunch. Most of your colleagues leave the office to eat at some of the many restaurants in the neighbourhood. You will also leave, but have to get Yoongi first. He would forget that it was time otherwise because he always works so hard.

You greet your big boss as she passes you on her way to her lunch break and your way to Yoongi’s office. She soon disappears behind a corner.

You knock on his door.

“Come in!”

You enter the room, closing the door behind you.

“On a scale of one to ten, how hungry are you?” you ask him.

“Uh…I don’t know. I ate a granola bar twenty minutes ago, so four-ish? Why?”

“Good”, you say and lock his door.

“Why are you locking my door?”

“So I can do this and not have someone walk in on us”, you say and close the distance in big steps.

You pull him out from under his desk and turn him to you.

“Wha-”

Yoongi gets no time to complain or process what was happening and then you are already on his lap, claiming his lips in a needy kiss.

He squeaks in surprise. You get to kiss him for a good two seconds and then he breaks it. He touches his lips, gawking at you scandalized and flustered.

“What are you doing?”

“Making use of our sixty minutes. The ramen bar across the street needs five minutes to make ramen, you and I need around twenty minutes to walk over there and eat. Which gives us a good thirty five minutes extra.”

“Okay and?”

“And I’m gonna use them well.” You falter for a moment. “If you’re down too, of course.”

“No, of course I’m not down. We’re at work. People could hear us or see us”, he is whispering, eyes widened in urgency.

“We’re all alone. Even Mina left for lunch.”

Mina was your big boss and she won’t be back until three o’clock because of meetings.

“But still, I say no.”

“Ugh fine. Whatever you want”, you say and climb off his lap, “but then I wanna go somewhere else. Maybe sushi?” you suggest, turning your back to him to leave.

Yoongi ogles your butt in the skirt you are wearing. He is internally panicking. He didn’t expect you to actually accept his no so easily (which makes no sense because you always accept his no without argument). He secretly hoped for you to try and convince him, because let us be honest for a moment, Yoongi is also obsessed with you. The skirt you chose today is one of his favourites and your unapologetic flirting really made his blood boil. You are also wearing his favourite perfume and when he snuck a glance at you as you got dressed, he got a glimpse of lace panties. Yoongi loves lace panties.

“Wait, okay fine. I’m down too”, he reveals his lie.

“Really?”

He blushes and looks to the side, nodding his head.

“Oh my god, yay!” you exclaim and climb on his lap again. You cradle his face, turning it to you so you can kiss him.

He kisses you back for a little while, but then breaks it again.

“But only if we’re quiet. Please, we really have to be quiet.”

“We’ll be quiet. Just come here, you”, you promise, attacking his neck with hungry kisses.

Yoongi feels his eyes roll back and shivers run down his spine. He drops his head against the backrest of his chair, parting his lips.

“God you smell so sexy. I love this cologne on you. God, you. Mhhhm god”, you babble between your hungry kisses, driving him crazy in the process.

“Also no marks please”, he begs.

“Promise. Now relax and stop worrying.”

“Wait. Actually.”

You sit up.

“We should set a timer.”

You chuckle. He is such an awkward bean sometimes.

“Good idea, let’s set a timer.”

“I’ll do it.”

You watch him fondly as he fumbles with the timer on his watch. His lips and neck are covered in lipstick marks. His hair is a little ruffled. God, you could honestly eat this man. He is so yummy.

“Okay, timer set. Wait. You locked the door, right?”

“Yes baby, I locked the door.”

“Okay, okay. Now I’m good.”

He leans back and shifts his eyes to you.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just really like you”, you say and lean down to kiss the other side of his neck. “You’re just so perfect, Yoongi baby.”

“A-ah. Mhmmm.”

His eyes roll back and close, his lips part. His neck is so sensitive and your kisses feel incredible.

You and Yoongi started off today a little worked up. It may have been your fault because you woke up horny after a sexy dream about him and therefore engaged Yoongi in a sleepy make out session. Said session only lasted five minutes and then you both needed to get up for work. You and he tried not to address what said session did, but it definitely haunted you throughout the morning.

“Shit, baby”, you break away from his neck to whisper against his ear, making him dizzy in the process, “all I want right now is your dick in my mouth.”

He throws his hand over his mouth, gawking in shock. You snicker, fluttering your lashes playfully.

“Please be more quiet”, he whispers.

“You’re so cute”, you chuckle and kiss his ear. You slip off his lap and between his legs, making him gasp.

Your eyes meet. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are widened.

“Is this okay for me to do?”

He nods his head, breathing the shiest “yeah”.

“Thank you. God seriously, I dreamed of blowing you and it’s been driving me crazy”, you finally confess, fingers busy with opening his pants.

Yoongi’s chest lifts and sinks in a quick rhythm. He is so excited and at the same time, terribly nervous. You and he never did it at the office before. Or in public for that matter. He feels like a criminal, grasping the armrests of his chair as support.

The zipper of his pants opens quickly. You slip your hand into the front of his slacks and boxer briefs, then take out his cock. He is still only semi-hard.

“Oh god”, he croaks, shifting nervously.

“Everything still okay?”

“Yeah just. You really locked the door?”

“I did. Promise.”

“A-and you’ll be really quiet?”

“Yes, very quiet.”

You decide to take his mind off of his nerves by kissing the tip of his dick. You use your hand to massage the base and get him worked up.

Yoongi sucks in air and throws his hand over his mouth.

“Oh god”, he murmurs.

“I love your dick. You’ve got the cutest dick ever. Mhm love it so much.”

This wasn’t a lie. Yoongi has indeed a very cute dick. Now don’t misunderstand, his dick game is insane. This man knows how to make you see stars with just his cock. It’s perfect in length, in girth and in shape. There is genuinely nothing missing and also nothing which is too much. And yet, you still think that it is so cute. Just like his elbows and knees, it easily flushes pink and when you play with him just right, it leaks and twitches. When you get him really fucking worked up – to the point where he curses and spits the dirtiest words – his dick becomes veiny and oh so swollen and when you make him cum, it trembles oh so needily.

It is just such a perfect dick and right now, you take it inside to get him fully hard.

Yoongi drops his head against the chair, scrunching his face as he grinds his teeth.

This feels really good. Really, really good and if you two were at home, he would moan. But he can’t. Not here. He has to be quiet.

You are a little louder, purring in enjoyment as you suckle on his tip.

“Please not too hard”, he begs, breathing heavily.

“Mh-hm”, you assure him, rubbing his thigh and massaging his shaft. He should feel good and comfortable.

You are aware that this is something totally new and that Yoongi is very private about PDA and especially sex. The last thing you want out of this is for him to finish with a bad feeling in his tummy.

You know that you could be louder and rougher because the office is genuinely empty, but you keep it gentle for Yoongi’s sake. Sex is – after all – most enjoyable when both parties involved are totally into it.

“Is it okay how I do it?” you ask and continue the rhythm. You focus your attention on his first two inches, suckling on them while swirling your tongue around his tip.

“It’s…good”, he breathes out and chokes down his moan. It is more than good, it is amazing. Yoongi really wants to be at home right now so he can be loud.

“Yeah? Good?”

“Good…”

“Just tell me when you want something changed.”

Yoongi hums, nodding his head. He shifts in his chair, gasping for air because you sink him in as deep as you can go. His armrests croak as he tightens his fingers on them.

You purr and suck, moving your head up as you do. You increase the suction when reached his tip, swirl your tongue and sink down again. With the new rhythm asserted, you begin your hungry feast. He is so fucking delicious, throbbing between your fingers as you work him up to his potential.

Yoongi groans quietly, throwing his hands over his face for just a second before he drops them again, grasping the edge of the chair. He loves oral sex. Now granted, he loves giving it more than he does receiving it. The thing with Yoongi is that getting his dick munched on really – really – gets him there fast. He just can’t hold on for long before he is already close.

And you are really working hard today to ruin him.

“Fuck”, he chokes out under his breath.

The word fills the room with its meaning. You got him cursing.

You slip off his dick to run the tip of your tongue along his veins. He throbs needily, messying his tip more and more because you aren’t sucking it off anymore. You will have such a yummy surprise once you take him back in.

What you are doing right now feels so intense. You are very precise with your tongue and because you are using the tip of it, the stimulation is strong and tingly. Really tingly. So tingly in fact, that Yoongi has to squirm in his chair and arch his back.

Your tongue glides over his tip. You stop.

“Mhm?” You look at his dick. “Oh my god, you’re so wet.”

Yoongi whines quietly, face feeling on fire. It’s so embarrassing to be called out and it makes him even wetter.

“Oh god, baby. Oh god”, you chant as you lick and suck the yummy surprise off of him.

Yoongi tastes really good. And you aren’t saying that just to be nice. Oh no, in your past you were not afraid to tell your partners if they needed to take better care of their dicks. Yoongi genuinely tastes so good. He takes hygiene very seriously and leaks the yummiest pleasure. It’s just a little salty, but most of all it has a sweetish taste to it because he loves eating cranberries (to make his dick taste good). He is very cute. And perfect. And yummy. And fuck, you are so hungry for him. You growl quietly, sinking him back into your mouth just to suck the very soul out of his dick.

“Ah! Shhiii- Ah!” he squirms helplessly, suddenly feeling on fire. “A lot. A-a lot.”

“Mhm”, you agree as you get sloppy with his dick. You drool all over it and smear lipstick everywhere. Your hand works overtime to jerk off what you can’t fit and your left hand runs up his torso to rub his nipple over his shirt. You are insane for him. Completely starved and hungry.

Yoongi puts his right hand on the nape of your neck.

“I have to cum”, he tries oh so hard to be quiet, “I’m almost there.”

His words motivate you to focus on his tip. This always gets him there. He is so, so sensitive. And pink. And leaky. And yummy. Oh so yummy.

“I have to cum in your mouth. Is it okay?”

You nod your head. Yoongi whimpers quietly, biting his lower lip. His fingers tighten on your head, his legs tremble. His stomach is so tight, his cock feels on fire. One more suck he is going to burst. He scrunches his nose, eyes glassy because he refuses to close them and therefore stop looking at you. You flick your tongue over his favourite spot. This was it.

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut and drops his squirming hips.

“I’m cum-”

You purr and suck him aggressively as you slip off, squeezing your fingers around his base to stop his orgasm. His poor, flushed cock throbs, weeping in agony. He gasps and exhales heavily, hips rolling up to chase the decreasing pleasure. His eyes open, glistening sadly.

“That was mean”, he murmurs, pouting. He is squirming and pouting so, so much. As if you broke his hopeful, trusting heart.

“Sorry, you pouty”, you chuckle, kissing his shaft as an apology.

“That was so mean. It hurts”, he complains in a shaky voice, sounding close to tears. He always gets like this when you edge him. Which is why you love doing it because he is so cute when he gets sniffly in desperation. And Yoongi loves being edged. Just maybe not today. Because he is so, so, so, horny today and now his balls ache and his dick is sensitive and everything just feels too intense for the place he is currently at. Yoongi shouldn’t feel so needy in the office, but now he does and he has to sniffle and pout because of it.

“Please can I cum?” he begs you with glistening puppy eyes.

“Soon. And not in my mouth. Can I sit on you?”

He nods his head vigorously, rubbing your neck. “Please do, please.”

You stand up. Yoongi instantly reaches for you, rubbing your hips and gazing up at you with needy eyes.

“Do you have a condom?” you talk to him as you take off your panties.

“No. Why? Sorry, I don’t. I didn’t know that I had to. We agreed that we don’t have to fuck with condoms anymore because being clean and being on birth control and all that.”

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you. I don’t have one either. Guess I just have to let it run into a tissue afterwards”, you say, climbing his lap. You keep the skirt on. Yoongi loves that you do, feeling unable to stop looking at you.

“I can clean it with my mouth”, he offers.

You laugh, gazing at him.

“Or that. God you. I’m mad for you”, you say and sink down on him, swallowing his moan as you kiss him.

He bottoms out within a second and you pick up a quick rhythm. You have no time to waste. Time’s running out and you’ve got to make most of it. You’re so wet that you can easily ride him passionately.

Yoongi feels as if you just punched him in the gut. This is so fucking intense and you gave him no time to get used to it. If he didn’t have the control of a champion, he instantly would have climaxed.

Now all he can do is gaze up at you with a pleasure contorted, flushed face and a turning head. Your lips are messy from the lipstick, your skin is radiant and your eyes are half-lidded in pleasure. He feels in presence of a goddess. The only goddess he will ever pray to and it makes his heart race as much as it makes his dick throb.

“Fuck, you feel so good”, you pant, grasping his hair at the nape of his neck.

“___”, he moans, looking up at you with an agape mouth and droopy eyes behind tilted glasses. His big hands are on your hips, holding on for support.

You fix his glasses then grab his hair again. You slow down for just a moment, sending Yoongi’s heart into overdrive when you lean down to rub the tip of your nose against his’.

He loves nose kisses, squeezing his eyes shut as he trembles in an emotional whimper.

“Mine”, you whisper and kiss the tip of his nose. Then you straighten up and pick up where you left off.

“Ah-nhn”, he wanted to yelp, but stops himself in the last moment, opening his eyes wide and his mouth even wider.

“Do you like this?”

He nods his head, pupils dilated and fingers dimpling your hips.

“Good. Love it too. You’ve got the best cock. So perfect.”

Yoongi’s heart is hammering against his ribcage. He feels so giddy and star-struck and so totally, completely, entirely yours. Also so sensitive. Holy fuck, he is so sensitive. He has to close his eyes otherwise the connection would have thrown him over the edge.

You caress his cheeks and ears, talking to him in a soothing, yet sexy, voice. You know that he is struggling and that he needs your voice to help him hold on.

“It’s not gonna take me long. I hope that’s okay.”

“So okay. So sensitive. Ah…”

“Always so sensitive. My cutie.”

Yoongi whimpers quietly, claiming your lips in a sloppy kiss.

Nobody would ever think this about you and him, but the two of you have such a high sex drive. Now, when you walked down a street side by side or come to work together, the public will never figure just how horny you are for each other. You are sure that most people would describe you and Yoongi as the boring couple. But this is so okay for you and him. The two of you know that you are far from boring and also way too horny for your own goods.

You have so much sex. And you have it often. So often in fact that you have perfected the art of the most satisfying quickie ever because sometimes before work, you just need to let some steam off.

Truly, you and Yoongi are masters at having quickies these days. They are so deeply satisfying and leave you and him with a good tingle in your tummies for the rest of the day.

This right now is going to be a quickie too and, man, is it fun.

The chair croaks slightly under you and Yoongi, the sounds of your heavy breathing and needy kissing fills the room just as much as the wet squelching of your bodies connecting does. You just can’t get enough, pressing yourself closer to him.

Because you only took out his dick and kept his slacks on, the fabric of them rubs against your clit. It’s rough and provides the perfect amount of pressure. It is exactly what you need now that he is running through your veins.

“I’m so into you. Yoongi, fuck.”

“___, I wanna be loud.”

“I know. Me too. Wanna be so nasty with you.”

He mewls softly, dimpling your butt. His eyes burn a little because you force tears to the surface. It feels insane. He can’t help but cry a little.

“Wanna be home.”

“I know, baby. Me too.” You whisper, running your thumb over his lips. “But you’re home. Yeah? You’ll always have a home inside me.”

Yoongi loves being loved by you. It is exactly what his tender, romantic heart needs. You are so deeply in love with him and you want all of him. Yoongi always dreamed of this kind of love and it felt unrealistic until you came around and you say stuff like “he will always have a home inside you”, which is so sexy but also so romantic and Yoongi feels gone.

He whimpers your name, taking your thumb inside his warm mouth. His eyes widen in submission as he sucks on your thumb instinctively.

“Yoongi, fuck”, you press out, grabbing the back of his head with your other hand.

He mewls around your thumb, tongue pulsing as he eagerly sucks.

The view ruins you. His pouty doll-lips are messy with your lipstick and now they are also stuffed with your thumb. His cheeks are flushed and his teary eyes are so, so submissive. The view of him is enough for you. It truly is.

“I’m so close. Are you ready?” you tell him, hips stuttering on his lap. He slips off your thumb, talking in a shaky voice.

“Already holding back. Please…”

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. What a good boy”, you rasp, pulling him into a kiss as you make yourself climax on his cock.

You reach heaven not long after, feeding him your ecstatic moan.

Yoongi whimpers, trembling and tensing up. He croaks, squeezing your ass. His high hits him. Of course it does. You are so tight and warm and your orgasmic throbbing is his weakness. He uses your mouth to keep himself quiet as he rides the waves and paints your walls white.

It is difficult to breathe afterwards. You and he are glued together, sharing air and resting your foreheads together.

“Are you okay?” you break the silence.

“Yeah, dizzy. You?”

“Dizzy too.” You exhale deeply, then kiss his cheek.

Yoongi leans into it, heart racing like crazy. He giggles, setting you off which ends in you and him having a secret giggle fit in his office.

“Why would we do that?” you say as you wipe the lipstick from his neck and face.

“I don't know. We’re so bad.”

“We’re awful. Oh my god. It was so much fun though.”

“It was. But it can’t be a regular thing.”

“Yeah. It’s probably for the best if we controlled ourselves.”

“Yes, it is.”

The timer goes off. Yoongi switches it off, meeting your eyes.

“Perfect timing.”

“Urgh god”, he drops his head back, “you’re actually so bad for me. Why would you make me do that in public?”

“Hey, it takes two. If you didn’t want this too, you would have said so. Don’t blame me.”

Yoongi whines and pouts, because he knows that you were right. You snicker, pecking his cheek.

“Now about food. I think I’m taking the tissue because it’s faster and I’m hungry.”

“Sure. Here”, Yoongi gets it for you and helps you off his cock without making a mess. He even wipes for you, which is deeply intimate and makes you love him more. He hands you your panties.

“Thanks, my love.”

“Yeah.”

He throws the tissue away, wrapped in another tissue, while you put on your panties. And as you use his office mirror to fix yourself up, he stuffs his cock back into his slacks and fixes his clothes. He stands up, closing the distance to you. His arm slings around your waist, his hand rests on your side. He runs his other hand through his hair.

“You’re so handsome.”

“And you’re beautiful”, he retorts, meeting your eyes. “I won’t be able to look at our outfits normally ever again.”

“Me neither. I might get tingly each time you wear this shirt from now on.”

He smiles cutely, resting his cheek against your arm as he hugs your middle.

“Me too with your skirt”, he murmurs and giggles.

You melt into him, giving him your most adoring smile. He is such a cuddly bean in private. It is the most adorable thing about him.

“Gosh you”, you ruffle his hair, “you’re so cute.”

“Yaah love, I just fixed my hair”, he whines.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry. Here, let me. Although, I think that messy hair suits you.”

“Well, not at work. I’m supposed to be proper. Do I still have lipstick somewhere?”

“You’re fine, you shy baby. Am I proper?”

“Yeah, you’re pretty. You should put on more lipstick though, it’s gone.”

“I’m doing it after lunch. Just gonna eat it all off anyway. So ramen?”

“Yes, ramen. You’re paying, for seducing me.”

“Wow okay”, you laugh, “says mister Adonis himself in his blue shirt. It’s your own fault for being so sexy.”

He snickers cutely, holding your hand as you leave the office.

“I’m kidding. I’m paying.”

“No, it’s alright. I can pay.”

“No, I’m paying”, he insists and puts your arm around his waist so you are holding him.

“Fine. Gosh, you’re so cuddly right now. I love it”, you say, holding him happily.

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