#Ecstatic Computation

[l3v1at4]

Caterina Barbieri - Ecstatic Computation

[sysig]

I invite you to imagine (Patreon)

[mountmortar]

pulling myself wheezing and gasping half-dead out of a pile of rubble. i passed calculus I with a C-

[hotasfahrenheit]

IT'S HERE IT'S BACK MY COMPUTER HAS RETURNED TO ME

without pretty much all of my files and i have to spend time reinstalling everything i need or want and trying to figure out what i lost but like hey at least i have a working computer again.

and at least most of my games were installed on my secondary drive, and a lot of the media i had downloaded was on there too, so i don't have to replace some things.

expect one million incoming gifsets soon because i have missed making them and there are SO MANY that need to get made. so many.

AND i can get back to working on that series of posts i started MONTHS ago about getting into NCT then do other kpop things maybe? and having a computer again means that @poetry-protest-pornography and i have no excuses to not do that podcast we've been talking about forever etc etc etc

and and i can finally finish Baldur's Gate and get back to so many other gaming things etc etc etc

AND AND AND i have two monitors now because the friend who tried to save my old hard drive (but couldn't) that hooked me up with a new drive also hooked us up with a sweet deal on a monitor from the repair place he works at, PLUS my partner brought me home an extra monitor from his job that they were getting rid of and despite him and me both dropping it on the floor to the point where some of the plastic is broken on the frame of it, it still works and it's now my secondary whoooooo

yeah okay anyway i'm gonna go install some more software now bye

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Doctor’s Orders

“Miss, please follow me into the exam room.”

I look up to see a sweet nurse smile at me and wave me over. I smile back at her and stand up from the waiting room chair, following her through the doors of the clinic. She leads me into a standard exam room and after giving me quick instructions to take off my clothes and get comfortable, she leaves me, promising the doctor will be here to see me shortly.

I look around the sterile room, taking in framed stock images tastefully arranged along the walls and the stack of various medical pamphlets about STDs and safe sex. I take a deep breath and start to undress. I’ve waited so long to come see this doctor and I’m not going to let my nerves get the best of me now. The doctor I’m here to see is a specialist in anorgasmia, the inability to orgasm.

I’ve never been able to achieve orgasm, no matter what I’ve tried. Numerous partners have tried, I’ve purchased countless toys and lubricants, even going as far as trying hypnosis. Nothing has worked and I had almost given up hope when I’d stumbled across this doctor and his specialty.

It took months for me to get an appointment, and the screening process was incredibly intensive. Apparently, he’s extremely selective in the patients he chooses to see so when I got the call that he was willing to fit me into his schedule, I was ecstatic. Maybe I can finally say goodbye to my inability to orgasm.

A soft knock at the door startles me and I watch as the doctor opens the door and steps into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. He’s younger than I thought he’d be. I’d been picturing a middle-aged man, maybe with some greying hair and glasses. Instead, he’s handsome, fit, and I can see the sparkle in his eyes as he greets me cheerfully.

“Good afternoon! I’m sorry for the wait but I hope you’re comfortable! It is lovely to meet you.” His voice is smooth, comforting, and when I extend my hand out to shake his outstretched one, his touch is gentle but strong.

I smile back at him, feeling some of my previous anxiety fade away. “No worries at all, I’m happy to be here.”

I watch as he opens grabs a chair and sits in front of the computer, logging in to pull up my medical chart. “Now, let’s see here, you’re here for anorgasmia I see.” I feel my cheeks flush at the clinical way he’d said it and he catches my blush as he glances up from the computer screen.

He gives me a comforting smile, “Don’t be embarrassed. A lot more women experience anorgasmia than people think, and it’s something that we can fix. I promise, there is nothing to be embarrassed about here.”

I give him a small smile back, the sincerity in his words soothing me.

“Now, I know you filled out a very long questionnaire already and I’ve already reviewed that so we’re going to get right to a physical exam to start.” He pushes away from the computer and stands up, walking over to where I’m sitting on the exam table.

“Can you take off your bra and underwear for me, please?” I nod, steeling my nerves before following his instructions. My nipples immediately harden into peaks at the cold air of the exam room and I feel so exposed with my entire body naked in front of him.

He unhooks stirrups from the bottom of the exam table and clicks them into place. “Prop your feet into there for me and spread your legs,” his voice is purely professional and I do what he asks. Placing my feet into the stirrups leaves me completely exposed and a small shiver goes through me as cold air brushes against my core.

“Now lean back and look up at the ceiling for me. We’re going to start with just a simple physical exam to make sure everything is normal anatomically. Then, we’ll move on to a few other tests for sensation and sensitivity. If at any point you have questions or concerns, don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?” He looks at me with care and I nod back, feeling comforted by his words and clear attentiveness.

He rolls his chair to between my propped-up legs and takes a seat, facing me. “My hands are a little cold but don’t worry, we’ll warm up in no time.” I let out a gasp when his indeed cold hands come to rest on my thighs. His fingers are gentle as he brushes against my center, his movements confident as he pokes and prods around.

I stay still as I feel him gently pull me apart, letting cold air rush against my core and clit. I bite back a gasp at the sensation. I feel him press against my clit, maneuvering my clit hood out of the way to reveal the bud. A swipe of his finger against my exposed bundle of nerves makes me jolt and I let out a sharp gasp this time.

“Sorry! How did that feel?” He asks, his voice apologetic.

I take a second to gather myself before answering. “It felt intense. Good but almost a little overwhelming.”

“Hm, that’s good,” he says, “That means you have a fair amount of clitoral sensitivity. We’ll do a more in-depth examination later but it’s a good sign.”

I hear the scrape of his chair against the floor and glance up to see his standing. “I’m going to grab some lubricant and we’ll do an internal exam next.” I nod and watch as he squirts a dollop of lube onto his fingers.

He settles himself back in between my legs and I shiver at the cold feeling of the lube. He’s purely professional as he spreads the lube over me and slowly works a single finger into me. I bite my lip to tamp down any sounds I want to make.

“I’m going to test your g-spot next,” he says and I feel his finger crook upwards inside of me, brushing against the spongy clump of nerves inside of me. The sensation shoots through me and I led out a slow breath.

“That’s it, you’re doing really well. Tell me if anything hurts, okay?” His fingers scissor inside of me and I let out a soft whimper. “Does that feel good?” His voice comes out in a lower register than before. “Come on, use your words. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me how it feels.”

I whimper again, “Mm yes, it feels good.”

“Good, so you have no problems with vaginal arousal and lubrication,” he says, his voice almost a purr now. “Don’t hold back, we want to make sure you’re giving your full reaction to everything that’s happening to help me understand what’s happening here.”

At his words, I let out another whimper, feeling the slow drag of his fingers against the sensitive walls of my pussy. He presses his fingers against my g-spot again and my back arches as pleasure shoots through me.

“Tell me, is this level of sensitivity and sensation reflective of how you normally feel during intercourse?” I take a second to catch my breath and think before I answer him.

“I think so, I’m usually pretty sensitive to sensation, it just never seems to culminate into an orgasm. A lot of times, I get too overstimulated to continue and I can’t cum.”

“Hm, I see,” his voice takes on a more contemplative tone. He pulls his fingers out of me, and I almost want to whimper at the loss.

“Well, I have a few theories but I’m going to do a more hands-on test to get a clearer answer of what we’re dealing with here. Lie back for me and relax.”

I lean my head back, staring up at the ceiling of the room and I feel him walk away for a second. He reappears at my side for a moment, and suddenly, I feel something encircle my wrist and hear a click. I jerk in surprise, glancing down to see that he’d cuffed me down to the table. My eyes meet his and smiles at me.

“Don’t worry, this is just to keep you still during the examination. The less movement there is from you, the easier it is for me to do my job. If at any point, you feel uncomfortable, tell me and we’ll stop, okay?” His words soothe the panic that rose up in my chest at the idea of being restrained and I give my consent. He smiles at me and makes quick work of clicking my other wrist into a cuff. Next, my ankles are strapped down to the stirrups and my thighs held apart by more cuffs. There’s even one that goes around my waist to keep my torso still.

“Good, how do you feel? Are any of the restraints hurting you?”

I shake my head in response, “No, I’m okay.”

He smiles at me again and I watch him open a drawer from across the exam room. “We’re going to introduce some equipment to help me get a better gauge of what we’re dealing with here.” My eyes widen as I watch him pull out several industrial looking sex toys.

“Let’s start with clitoral stimulation,” he says, setting down the toys except for one. He shows me the toy, it looks almost like an electric toothbrush with a wider body and a very thin head. “This is a very precise vibrator. Most commercial vibrators people tend to purchase have a much larger surface area, which can be very good for folks who are highly sensitive in all areas, but it doesn’t offer much precision in targeting specific parts of the clitoris. This one doesn’t have that problem since it has a much smaller head. Now this one is also pre-set to have 10 very well-calibrated intensity settings. Depending on your reaction to each setting, I can make better conclusions about your clitoral sensitivity. We’re going to go through the settings from low to high and I want you to continue to be vocal and tell me what you’re feeling, okay?”

I nod, “Okay, but what if I get too overstimulated?”

He gives me a comforting smile, “Just tell me and we’ll stop and re-evaluate if it happens.”

I nod again and he sits back down between my legs to get started.

I hear the toy click on, presumably at the first level based on the low, quiet buzzing sound its emitting. I gasp when I feel his fingers gently pull my pussy apart to reveal my clit, already erect and throbbing from his earlier treatment.

A moan escapes from my throat when I feel the toy make first contact. It feels so much more intense than any other toy I’ve ever had. The precision of the toy and the ease in which he handles it means that the vibrations are pressed right against my exposed clit, forcing the collection of raw nerves to submit to the sensations.

“How’s that?” He asks, his voice making me scramble to get ahold of myself to give a coherent response. “It feels so intense but in a good way.”

“Good, that’s good. Just relax and let yourself feel.” He murmurs, keeping the vibrator pressed tightly against me.

My eyes drift shut as I feel the sensation overtake me. The pleasure is forming a haze around my mind, every thought getting chased away by the feeling between my legs.

I hear his voice again, “I’m going to increase to the second setting. Just stay relaxed for me.”

I let out a whimper in response as the toy clicks up a level. The pleasure intensifies but there’s also a building sensation of raw overstimulation that is starting to arise. We’re nearing the point where I would normally stop and take a break but I don’t want to tell him that yet. I want to let him keep going, because maybe today is the day I finally get to cum.

I bite back a whine and clench my fists at my sides.

“Increasing to level 3 now.” He says, resting a hand on my thigh as his other one holds the toy firmly against me. The increase this time makes a cry rip out of me and my eyes fly open to meet his.

“Ah- it’s so much, I’m getting overstimulated.” I whimper out, my hands clenching and unclenching in an effort to control myself. He nods but doesn’t make any move to pull the toy away or decrease the setting.

“Try and tough it out for me for a bit more, I want to see if we can overcome the overstimulation.” He gives me a comforting smile and gently pats my thigh.

I take a deep breath and nod, letting my eyes drift shut.

“Increasing to level 4 now,” he says and the vibrator switches to a higher intensity before I can protest.

“Wait! Wait, please, just give me a moment, please!” I gasp out as the sensations shoot through me entire body. He shakes his head, “You’re doing great, just relax and let it happen.”

I whine as tears are gathering in my eyes. I’m walking the very thin line of pain and pleasure as the vibrator forces breathtaking feeling onto me while riding my nerves to the sharp edges of overstimulation. I hear his voice again and my heart drops when I register his words. “Increasing to level 5.”

A scream bursts out of me as all of the sensations compound and increase. It’s too much, I can’t do this. I can’t tell if I’m close to cumming, I just know that I’ve been absolutely thrown over my threshold for sensation and I can’t take anymore. I sob out my begs to my doctor.

“Please! No more, please stop! STOP! It’s too much! I can’t take it!” My body is shaking and I’m fighting with everything I have against the restraints but nothing gives. His hand on my thigh has turned into an iron grip, holding me down so I can’t even shift my hips to escape the relentlessly accurate vibrations.

“PLEASE! STOP!” I sob. There’s nothing to save me. He doesn’t listen, he might’ve said something to me but I’m too far gone to hear. All I know is the torturous pleasure dominating every single nerve of my body.

Beneath the horrible overstimulation, I feel a warm thread of something else. Something pulsing through my body, filling me with pure pleasure. I whimper as the feeling starts to build, my every muscle seeming to tighten in response to it.

There’s a knot building in my stomach, spreading throughout my body. Coupled with the overstimulation, I feel ravaged and decimated, every nerve pulled bare and shocked by the live wire of sensation that’s forced upon me. Before I can even begin to articulate it, I feel the vibrator kick up another setting and I scream as it shatters me.

I cum. For the first time in my life, I cum. My scream seems to shake the very foundation of the building we’re in as the pleasure, pain, and sensation flood my body, every cell of my body bursting with it. I can’t do anything except ride the relentless wave of pleasure, my entire body a slave to the whims of that horrible, terrible, delicious, mind-altering pleasure.

I slowly come down from the high of my first orgasm, gasps shaking my body as my mind struggles to reengage with reality. I blink tears out of my eyes, and I look up to see my doctor standing over me, holding the toy that he’s mercifully removed from my clit.

“Good job, sweet girl,” he purrs, running his hand up my thigh to cup my pussy gently. The soft motion is enough to make me whimper. “How did that feel, darling?” The terms of endearment make me pause but I’m too hazy to really digest it all.

I clear my throat and swallow, my voice raw from the screaming and begging. “I- It felt really good but it was so much,” I whisper, “I don’t know if I can do that again.”

He smirks and suddenly, I’m hit with a wave of uncertainty. There’s a glint in his eye that wasn’t there previously and it makes me nervous. Something about the way he is looking at me is so different now than earlier, with his cool professionalism and niceties. Now, I feel like a specimen under a microscope and he, the scientist who plans on dissecting me.

“I think, I think I need a break. Can we finish this appointment another time?” I murmur, pulling slightly at my restraints and looking at him.

He lets out a low laugh that makes my skin pebble with nerves. “Oh no, now that I know what the problem is, I can’t let you leave until we fix it. What kind of doctor would I be if I let my patients leave without being cured?”

I shake my head, “I don’t understand,” I whisper. “You made me cum, doesn’t that mean I’m cured?”

He smirks at me and he slides a finger into my pussy, making me gasp. “Not at all, we’ve proven that you indeed can orgasm, but there is still much to be examined in terms of the extent of your orgasms. Plus, we have several more levels of this vibrator to get through and we haven’t even begun to work on your pussy and g-spot yet.”

My eyes widen at his words and the curling feeling of fear truly takes root inside of me. “Wait no, please, I don’t want to continue with any of that anymore. Please, just let me go!”

The look on his face is one of glee as he sees my terror become apparent. “Now now, you don’t want to leave against my medical advice, do you? Plus, darling, you consented to following through with my professional recommendations when you signed up to be a patient. There’s no backing out of this now. And especially when I know how sensitive of a whore you are, darling.” He chuckles.

I whimper, “Please, no, I don’t want this.”

He bends down to lean in close to me. “Well, I don’t give a shit about what you want. You are the most unique case of sensitivity I’ve ever seen, and I plan to take full advantage of that while I have you here. So be a good girl for me and enjoy this.” He presses his lips to the side of my neck and the feeling makes me tremble.

He ignores the rest of my protests and goes back to sitting between my legs. I watch in fear as he holds up the vibrator and clicks it on. “We stopped at level 6 last time, that’s where we’ll resume. And scream all you want, sweet girl, these walls are soundproof and won’t let a speck of sound through.”

I do indeed scream when he presses the vibrator against me again.

This time, there’s no build up of pleasure or stimulation. It all slams into me all at once and I writhe against my restraints as everything overwhelms me. I vaguely hear a low laugh permeate the space around me but I can’t focus enough to pick out any other noise amidst my own sobs.

My doctor stops giving me any verbal cues, not that I’m coherent enough to even understand at this point. All I know is the punishing vibrator held against my clit, ravaging my body and turning me inside out. The claws of pleasure are embedded deep into my psyche and my body is at its complete whim.

I have no idea how much time has passed or whether I even stayed conscious for the entire duration of the torture but eventually, I realize that he’s stopped. The vibrator is off but my body was still shaking from phantom sensations, every inhale of air a sharp stab, and every sob a reminder of how broken I am.

Slowly, I register the sound of his low laugh. I whimper as I blink away my tears to look at him. “You, my sweet girl, are truly remarkable. I don’t think you realize since you were so out of it, but we were at the highest setting for the past ten minutes and you didn’t even cum once. I’ve never come across someone so fucking sensitive and yet so resistant to orgasm. It’s incredible because you don’t seem to become desensitized either.”

I whimper and my voice cracks when I speak. “Please, please, just let me go. I can’t handle any more. I won’t tell anyone about this, please just stop doing this.”

He smiles at me and for a brief moment, I see the professional, nice, kind, good doctor from earlier. But all my hope is washed away when I feel his fingers press against my core again.

“I can’t do that, darling. We still have your precious pussy left to work on,” his voice is filled with excitement and it makes me want to cry because I know what is coming next and I’m not sure I will survive.

I watch him exchange the vibrator for a huge dildo. He smirks and presses a button on the underside of it and the entire thing begins to vibrate. “I think we can go ahead and skip to the higher settings here.”

Tears fill my eyes and I shake my head at him as pleas fall from my lips. He ignores me as he lines the dildo up with my core. I tremble as the vibrations make me shudder without the toy even breaching me yet.

He catches my eye and I watch as he gives me a wink and proceeds to slam the dildo home inside of me. I arch my back and let out a devastated cry. The toy fills me to the brim, the vibrations ravaging my sensitive walls and my g-spot in a way that makes my eyes roll back.

I’m sobbing and shaking as he drives the dildo in and out of my pussy. Every movement against my overstimulated walls tortures me. The pleasure digs its claws into me and drags me back into its embrace. My entire being submits and I feel my mind’s grasp on my sanity loosen as every single facet of my existence narrows to pleasure.

Each thrust seems to make my sensitivity grow, every single muscle in my body aching and begging for relief. I feel his hand clamp down on my thigh as the other continues to work the dildo inside of me. I want to rip myself out of my body to make this torture end but there’s nothing I can do. Every push and pull shoves my body higher and higher to a peak that I can never seem to reach. There’s no culminating release of pleasure to make this all better, no soft wash of an orgasm to soothe every jagged nerve. There’s only him and the torturous pleasure he imparts onto my very soul.

An unfathomable amount of time later, I feel him finally turn off the toy and pull it out of me. I barely register the lewd sound of my cunt clenching around the toy, my pussy still weeping with arousal even after the devastation he brought upon me.

“Please,” I whimper. “Please, are we done? Please, I can’t take anymore, please let me go.”

He brushes my hair off my forehead and he smirks at me. “Oh, sweet girl, I can’t let you go now. I’m going to be keeping you as my perfect little toy. There are still so many other things I want to try on you. I’m going to push every single limit you have until you break for me.” A soft whine escapes from me and I know there is nothing I can do to convince him otherwise. My head lolls from exhaustion and I feel my grasp on consciousness start to loosen.

The last thing I hear is his voice. “Sleep, sweet girl, I’ve got you.”

[meateater-rabbit]

oh my god dude i FINALLY have ordered a laptop lets go gamers i will finally be able to Computer again

[babyleostuff]

𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝜗𝜚 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄: fluff, established relationship, down bad wonwoo (he’s a certified simp) 𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: idol!wonwoo x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.6k

⦗💌 ⦘ though it didn’t bother wonwoo that his girl wasn’t a gamer like him, he was over the moon when one day she proudly declared she started gaming. one thing he forgot to ask - what kind of games she was playing.

𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: guys if i play dress to impress does it mean im finally a gamer?

wonwoo was having a stroke. 

months ago, when you first started going out, he of course had to mention his love for gaming and computers, no matter how lame it made him - he figured if it bothered you then you simply weren’t fit for him. but, thankfully, you didn’t find it unappealing whatsoever, you even asked him questions about games and whatnot, sounding genuinely interested. 

and he wouldn’t lie - it’d be cool if you were a gamer as well, but… 

“no, it’s not for me,” you said when he asked if you played. “i don’t really get the hype, and to be honest i just suck really bad.” 

…but wonwoo understood that you didn’t have to share his every passion, besides - you had your hobbies, he had his, and that was perfectly fine. he was more than happy to indulge in activities that you enjoyed and getting to know you even better through them. 

during the course of your relationship you still didn’t show any interest in his games. well, maybe except for when you wanted cuddles, then you suddenly took a great interest in what was happening on his computer, but wonwoo didn’t mind. it was cute how you tried to keep up with the game though you had no idea what it was about, especially when you were sleepy.  

sometimes, though, you felt bad that you didn’t share his passion, that you didn’t know about all of the new updates, and gaming terms, or what the different keys on the keyboard were responsible for, but wonwoo was always quick to shut down those silly thoughts of yours. “i don’t mind, honey,” he always said and kissed your cheek. “i really don’t”. 

so it was safe to say that he had never expected to hear, "i'm a gamer now, baby. i play games," with a proud smile on your lips. 

wonwoo’s day had been long and hard, his muscles were aching from the hours spent on dancing and moving around the stage, and his head was begging for a moment of silence from all the yelling and yapping of his members. 

but that, that just woke him up like no amount of coffees or red bulls could. 

“huh?” he managed to say in utter confusion. 

he didn’t like how you were smiling. there was something sinister about it. 

“there’s this game everyone is playing now. i saw some videos on tik tok,” you had to stifle a giggle seeing your boyfriend’s expression upon the mention of the app he considered cursed, “and it looked fun. so… i’ve been playing it ever since you left for work.” 

well, maybe you did find it on tik tok, but a game was still a game, so wonwoo figured he should count that as a win. 

“let me show you,” you declared and took his hand with an excited grin, before he could say anything else, let alone ask you what kind of game you were talking about. 

you quickly pulled him into his bedroom, totally dismissing mingyu’s “hello”, and made him sit on his gaming chair. 

“i know you don’t like it when people touch your computer-,”.

“you can use it, honey, i don’t mind,” he cut you off and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. as ecstatic as wonwoo was about your breakthrough in gaming, he could wait to go to bed and finally get his well deserved cuddles from you. 

“okay okay,” you said and unintendedly ran your fingers through his hair. “so here it is,” you pointed at the screen behind him. 

wonwoo had no idea what game could have finally caught your attention. even the adorable characters from animal crossing weren’t cute enough for you to spend more than five minutes on the game, but what he saw on his computer...

"what, uh," he gulped. "what is that?"

“dress to impress!” 

well, it certainly did not impress wonwoo. 

“it’s like a dressing up game,” you added, when your boyfriend didn’t say anything. “here.” 

you rolled him a bit away from the desk so you could take your designated place on his lap, and disconnected the headphones from the computer, which made everything so much worse. the music that was playing in the background had to be one of the worst sounds he had ever heard. 

“look,” you pointed at the timer at the top of the screen. “the game is starting.” 

he could feel how you were buzzing with excitement, clapping your hands in tiny, waiting for the time to run out. 

“okay, see? here’s the theme,” wonwoo nodded sceptically, but nonetheless tightened his grip on your waist. 

album cover. 

then the screen changed to what looked like a large walk-in closet the size of his and mingyu's apartment. a bunch of other characters were running around, and the god awful music was still playing, and you started to run around as well, and, “oh my god, what was going on?”. 

“who should i dress up as?” you bit your nail, clearly very focused. wonwoo took a peek at your furrowed brows, and small pout and for a second he drowned out the annoying sound coming from his computer, just to focus on your adorable expression.  

“i can do you!” you said, and turned around to quickly place a kiss on his cheek. “from the “face the sun” concept photos. technically it’s not an album cover, but… no one here is ever on theme anyway”.  

wonwoo could only watch as you slowly changed your outfit into something that was supposed to resemble one of his concept photos, only in a more cutified version, because as you said, "you're a babygirl". with the minutes ticking by, he couldn’t help but smile at you being so focused on putting the whole outfit together. 

"okay, it's done," you said, leaning back so you were resting against wonwoo's chest. "now it's show time."

one by one, the characters walked the carpet, presenting their… whatever their outfits were. 

“ugh, this fit sucks ass,” you groaned, and nuzzled your head into his shoulder. “wait til one of them hits the twenty eight pose,” you said, and by the tone of your voice wonwoo did not want to see that. 

“why are you giving everyone one star?” he asked, confused. “that one wasn’t that bad,” he pointed at the character that dressed up as ariana’s dangerous woman. 

“you never give anyone more than one star,” you stated as a matter of fact. “oh, look,” you squealed. “it’s me.” 

indeed it was you, and for what it was worth - your outfit looked the best in wonwoo’s opinion. but then again you were best in everything to him, so his opinion didn’t count. and then the screen turned black again. 

the winners are… 

“now we’ll see who placed on the podium,” you explained, and grabbed his hand that was still resting on your waist. 

wonwoo nodded and put his chin on your shoulder. “i’m sure you’re going to be first, honey.” 

“huh,” you huffed. “i wouldn’t be so sure about that.” 

and yeah, you were right. in the first place there was a character that wasn’t dressed up at all, in the second someone with the vip sign dressed as if they were going to the circus, and in the third there was a very creepy character of a man.

you clicked your tongue annoyed. “told you.” 

well, that was an experience wonwoo had never thought he’d have the, uh, pleasure to go through. 

“so,” you got up, and just when wonwoo was about to whine about the lack of your warmth, you straddled his lap. “what do you think?” you cupped his cheeks and smiled at him brightly. 

he wasn’t sure he was thinking at all, at this point. 

the annoying music? unbearable. the clearly not on theme outfits? hideous. the weird poses that freaked him out? he was sure he’d get nightmares from them. 

wonwoo must’ve been thinking too long about his answer so as not to hurt your feelings, because the smile slowly started to disappear from your face. "you think it's weird, right?" you asked and looked down.

"what? no, it's not that, it's-,".

"sweetie, i understand," you laughed quietly. "it's a game for kids, and a little cheesy at that but-,".

"no no," wonwoo quickly said and grabbed your face in his hands so he could lift your head. "i just didn't expect this. you always said you didn't like to game and i didn't know what to expect."

"yeah, but still-,".

"oh could you be quiet for a second?" he smiled when he saw the corners of your lips lift up. "i didn't mean to make you feel bad and i'm sorry if it did.” 

yeah, the game might not have been his style, and he would never have played it himself, but you liked it. and that was all he cared about. he had never seen you smile like that when he was gaming - your eyes were practically heart shaped when you were dressing up your character, and if this wasn't the most adorable thing ever he didn't know what it was. 

if it made you happy, then it made him happy too.

"you have no idea how glad you found a game you like," he ran his thumbs over your cheeks. "and you know what? if i played myself i'd definitely give your outfit five stars."

you giggled, and wrapped your hand around one of his wrists. "thank you, wonwoo."

"of course," he muttered and pecked your forhead. "now tell me, is there a way we could play it at the same time?"

"wonwoo, you don't have to-,"

"but i want to," he said.

for a moment you just looked at him with a raised brow, as if you were trying to figure out if he was really telling the truth. and he really was. wonwoo would survive any horrible outfit and that annoying music just to see you so excited and happy again.

"are you sure?"

he quickly nodded.

"okay, then let me get my computer."

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot  @iamawkwardandshy  @icyminghao @heeseungthel0ml @goyangiiwonu @bath1lda @ruurooozz @ny0sang @luuxian @onerubii @iamawkwardandshy @hurrican3-insert-nam3 @mekuiikore @luvseungcheol @thenotoriousegg @yuuyeonie @soffiyuhh

[wonderjanga]

We Thought You Died?!

Billy became a hero in 1959, and he was a hit. He was extremely popular. Captain Marvel was a beloved hero. As for the Squadron of Justice? They were beloved too. They, plus Captain Marvel were the superheroes of that time. They were the flipping blueprint for being a hero, especially Captain Marvel. Then the bubble formed in 62, and they just disappeared off the face of the earth and everyone thought he died.

Then, out of nowhere, they just reappeared.

News channel: *showing a clip of Marvel*

Grandson: *tugs on Grandma’s sleeve* “Grandma, that looks like the hero guy the teacher are making us learn about.”

Grandma: “Amazing. He looks just like the real thing.”

Yeah… People didn’t really believe it at first. Though, to be fair, all the Fawcett heroes have been gone for over sixty years.

Old Man: “It’s disrespectful is it what is. Just because you have the same powers doesn’t mean you can dress up as a dead hero.”

Old Woman: “ I just feel bad for the families. To see someone dress up as your dead husband or wife and then go around pretending to be them? Disgraceful.”

It was then the Justice League got involved. They really couldn’t have these people running around like this. Not only that, but some of the imposters are lethal. Not to mention that there are people in the Justice League who used to know the Fawcett heroes. They were friends with them for Christ’s sake. So that’s why unanimously, they went and confronted these guys.

Supes: *hovering over Fawcett*

Marvel: *helps a cat out of a tree and sees him so he flies up*

Supes: *disapproving look* “I hope you know that if you’re trying to be a her—”

Marvel: “Oh my gods, your suit is awesome!”

Supes: “Thank you…?

Marvel: “Are you a new hero? What’s your name? Are you from Fawcett or are you gonna join us here?”

Supes: *computing, still stuck on the first question*

Meanwhile, Flash and Minuteman were arguing which then somehow spiraled into them getting tacos. Batman and Robin, and Mister Scarlet and Pinky are just fighting. And Bulletgirl and Wonder Woman had a civil conversation that actually got them a lot of information.

After sorting out the entire misunderstanding that they were all imposters, things thankfully got lighter.

Marvel: “Oh my gods, Jay, you’re an old man! What happened to your long luscious locks of beautiful brown hair?”

Barry: *holding back a laugh* “Long luscious locks?”

Jay: “Okay, it was not long, luscious, or beautiful. He just insists on calling it that to embarrass me.”

Marvel: “But it’s true! Or it was true.”

Jay: “No it wasn’t. I had perfectly average hair, thank you very much.”

Yeah, Billy met up with some of his old friends, and they were all ecstatic to see their eight feet tall, golden retriever who just wanted to make the world a better place.

Marvel: “So your not an hero anymore? Then what happened to the JSA?”

Alan Scott (First Green Lantern): “We disbanded…”

Marvel: “WHAT? Why?”

Alan: “Well, we were getting old. We needed to retire.”

Marvel: “Oh yeah.” *sounds a little bummed*

Alan: “I mean, there’s now this thing called the Justice League? Wildcat joined them. So did Mr. Terrific.”

Marvel: “That sounds like a ripoff of you guys!”

He joins anyways. So do the other Fawcett heroes cause they might as well. That’s when things go down hill once more because the JL are forced to remember that a couple Fawcett heroes, mostly Spy Smasher, kill people.

Batman and Spy Smasher: *tied up the Joker after beating up his goons*

Spy Smasher (SS): “Alright, let’s get out of here.” *pulls out a gun and puts it to the Joker’s forehead*

Batman: “What are you doing?”

SS: “I’m ending this…?” *cocks his gun*

Batman: *slaps the gun away* “No, you’re not. He’s going back to Arkham.”

SS: *pulls another gun out* “Yes, I am. Are you seriously telling me you don’t want to permanently end this guy? I’ve heard people call him a terrorist.”

The two then duked it out and the Joker still went back to Arkham anyways. Spy Smasher was so salty, not that literally anyone could blame him.

Marvel: “Wait, so people don’t kill villains anymore?”

SS: *sitting next to him, bandaged*

Wildcat: “Nope. Nowadays, you got to turn them into the police and let them break out again. I know it’s stupid.”

Marvel: “But what about the mass murderers? What about the Black Adams or the Captain Nazis? People who have done messed up stuff?”

Wildcat: “To jail they go. Why do you care anyways? It’s not like you killed any of your villains.”

Marvel: “Well, I didn’t, but I gotta ask because Smasher is trying so hard not to physically claw off his own skin at the thought of these guys just breaking back out.”

Safe to say, getting used to the modern world, took some getting used to for everyone. As for Billy, he chills with the gang at the old folks home, reminiscing about times as if he’s aged with them.

Also, like, genuinely, their disappearance would show up in top ten unsolved mysteries vids because genuinely, they just disappeared with no trace.

Billy also doesn’t know what to think of the many memorials he finds of himself and the other Fawcett heroes around the country.

[artdagz]

First and foremost, Jazz prowl mecha AU is so fun and I'm reading so much of it and sometimes I really just want to share something.

As most probably already know this was started by @keferon and this AU is so fun, I really can't, everyone is so creative and there's so much to learn and see everywhere, the angst, the evolution and cheesy romance mix with hurt comfort is just🤌

So please, it's just some idea, but I hope this gives somebody something ><

(First part is big hurt, second part is rescue. So prowls death and not being treated like a human, when his conscience is in the mech, but he gets safed/saves himself with jazz. )

What if prowl becomes somewhat like Vortex in the mecha au, but with the downside of now being a supercomputer trapped in a mech that won't move without a pilot.

And as they notice he can still calculate stuff for them but is no longer a fragile human and also conveniently can't say no to requests, they use that without remorse. Prowl is allowed to move freely in the field when fighting quintessons but used in his spare time to do all sorts of administrative tasks that commanders are too lazy to do..

It happens along these lines:

Tarantulas notices Prowl won't be able to be doing the whole upgrading forever.

He's failing more and more, getting worse.

So next time he has him under his knife, he's doing something so in case prowl won't make it There is a safety backup of prowl in his mecha, so that's how prowl becomes a mech.

When Prowl suddenly stops in battle and all jazz can do is get them out of there, back at base there's nothing they can do for human prowl anymore.

While the battle is still raging around them, Jazz just sits next to prowls mecha hoping prowl will make it.

But it's as everyone feared and jazz is just sitting there close to prowls mech knowing his friend will never return and nobody dares to come closer.

Tarantulas approach being met with a visor that dares him to get any closer.

They organize a small funeral, one of the other pilots inviting jazz. Jazz goes, out of his suit for once, to attend.

When jazz is back his suit informs him that someone had been in prowls mech.

And it was Tarantulas.

Jazz thinks about confronting Tarantulas, but instead goes into prowls mechs cockpit, looking around to find out if he did anything.

And there's this button that's blinking, it's the startup button and jazz just absentmindedly pushes it, the mech whirring to live around him and the cockpit closes.

Text is running on the screen that looks like startup of a computer, then there's just text that's scrolling down further until it gets to the bottom.

The little blinking bar indicates the last line is just blinking for a while as jazz stared at it.

Then suddenly it moves again.

One word catches his optic

Jazz

Written on the screen.

And another line appears.

Help.

So, prowl is stuck in his mech, which wouldn't be as bad if he could move.

Jazz hacks the programming that makes it necessary for there to be a pilot and everything is a 100% better cause he can move.

Still unlike before, prowl can't just get out of his mech and walk around and that's so frustrating, cause his health isn't an issue anymore but now he got military breathing down hus neck, who are ecstatic at not having to worry about prowl being human anymore and prowls workload suddenly becomes so much that even if he was allowed to move he doesn't have time.

The programming and the reinstalled tacnet making it so he can't say no even though he wants nothing but a break.

Jazz being in Prowls mech trying to talk to him and more often than not he'll be sitting in the cockpit and prowl suddenly cuts off and his vents kicking on, as they use prowl to calculate scenarios like a piece of equipment.

Jazz noticing this installs a blocker that prowl can use to deny dumb requests and suddenly prowl can hear his own thoughts again.

When military gets on jazz’ case about doing that, threatening him to reverse what he did, prowl interferes.

He threatens them back he'd go with jazz and if they do anything to him he'll do the same to his own mech (himself).

Now prowl and jazz get to go out on walks together.

And prowl finally comes to realize that he actually died and everything just feels so much in a robotic body that is all built for efficiency but not for expressing oneself or even just feeling anything.

[onlinedolly]

enjoy my drabble based off secretary!!!

nanami kento whos just your boss. you worked under him as a secretary to a business he didn’t own but was powerful enough to have his own office. this was your first job, nervous as you told him you didn’t have any references. nanami just smiled then, told you everything would be alright and if you were comfortable handling the phones. you’d nodded at him a large smile on your face, and since then you’d been his pretty little secretary.

nanami kento who’s just your boss, but the tension in the air is heavier now. you’d messed up a couple times, naturally, and you didn’t think it had gotten under his skin this much. nanami wasn’t a particularly awful man to work under, tedious and strict, but albeit kind. he was bossy, ordering you to wear your hair down more often, or change what type of blouse you were wearing, or how he could hear you sniffle all the way from his office and you needed to be more quiet. normal things.

things unbeknownst to you nanami relished in, loved the way you came in next day with your hair down and a different blouse, how you’d went out of your way to buy a thing of nasal spray to keep your allergies to a minimum. you were so obedient and sweet.

but how did it get like this? now? nanami had called you into his office and explained angrily the mistakes you were making. nothing unusual, you were used to his stern talking to’s, his corrections. but when he told you to bend over his desk, palms flat on the table, you couldn’t help but fumble a bit. but oh so good you behaved, leaning until your chest collided with the smooth surface, placing your palms down.

“count.” he speaks rashly, and before you know it he’s smacking you hard against your clothed bottom. it was enough to send shock waves through you as you uttered out the number one. you took it, like always, like a good thing, as he repeatedly smacks your ass, harder and harder each time as you count, eyes welling with tears. you’d done your best to keep quiet, knowing the only thing that nanami hates more then mistakes were interruptions.

nanami was just your boss, but with you splayed out like this, it felt like something different. a power shift. you’d always been so good at listening to him, walking home when he suggests, changing your shirt, switching you heels for more sensible flats, and you wondered if those were power plays too. ways to keep himself above you, make you submissive.

after around twenty blows, nanami finally cools down, fixes his tie, and sets back down in his chair. he doesn’t pay you any mind as he types away of his computer and you’re confused but ecstatic as you stand, straighten yourself out, apologize for your mistake, and walk back to your small desk outside his office.

nanami was just your boss, nothing more. just a man in a position of power.

[l0vergirls]

take the reins

you've dug too deep, but there doesn't seem to be a downside to that.

batfam x reader

wc: 1382

a/n: i started watching mr. robot (plz no spoilers im literally on the 3rd episode) and fell in love with it and .. started thinking !!!.. & this is lowkey set up like the start of a series, but i'll see how it goes considering i have nothing plannef at all. .. pls do send asks about this story and this reader since i would love love love to expand on it hehe

It was as if time had stopped for a moment.

You found out a lot of secrets. Secrets that can put people behind bars. What do you do with those? Send in an anonymous tip to the rare non corrupt cop, of course. You like to think of it as being a non-violent vigilante. Instead of running around Gotham in a costume and beating the bad guys within an inch of their life, you sit comfortably behind your computer screen and dig.

You dig for anything and everything you can find on everyone you encounter. Why? Maybe it's the unrelenting feeling of needing control, or the fear of simply not knowing.

By breaking something down to its source code, you're baring it all; the rights, the wrongs, everything that makes or breaks you. You won't get caught off guard if you just know how something— someone works.

Sometimes, you find nothing noteworthy. Your neighbor in 405, for example. The first time you had passed her, she sneered at you. That was good enough reason to hack her.

The woman at 405 is Emma Davis, aged 35, 5'7, date of birth: May 15th. Studied at NYU, worked a desk job at some company in Star City before getting relocated to Gotham. Yeah, I wouldn't be ecstatic either. Brings home a different person every week. Occasionally smokes weed. Also your occasional hook up. Don't make decisions while intoxicated.

Emma Davis is just a run of the mill office worker, with the same vices as most people. Nobody special.

But this? This could get you in serious shit, if you aren't in for it already.

Bruce Wayne, date of birth: February 19th, 6'2, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, adoptive father of multiple children, and... crime fighting vigilante at night.

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

It wasn't hard to connect the dots after uncovering the man behind the cowl; you figured all his children were Robins at one point. Even the dead one. Except the dead one isn't really dead, is he?

Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne— all crime fighting vigilantes. What a family. You wonder who else you can unmask.

Fuck, you need to go home. Doing this at a coffee shop was a mistake, but damn it, their connection was fast. Too many people, too great a chance of a breakdown.

Close all the tabs, all the windows, scrub yourself clean of all evidence of intrusion. Don't leave a trace.

Shut down the laptop. Leave.

The sun is still out, they wouldn't be around yet. Everyone knows they all work at the dead of night.

You drown out the meaningless conversations around you, and you're on autopilot, heading to the apartment that you call home.

<>

The Waynes pride themselves on their secrecy. Hiding their vigilante alter egos behind carefully crafted lies. They built walls as tall as the buildings with Bruce's name plastered across the front.

It was a little too late when Alfred Pennyworth received an alert from the Batcomputer. Alfred sent all the vigilantes a message, and they came running in. After all, a security breach is detrimental to all of them.

The butler found a location, The Last Drop. A café right in the middle of the city.

Bruce looked through all of the files, recordings, reports— everything. The hacker didn't take anything, and didn't make copies. He deduced that whoever it was simply read.

That's no good either. Someone out there is aware of who they are, who the man under the mask is.

"Alfred, pull up CCTV footage at The Last Drop at the time of the hack."

On the screen were the grainy videos of the café, with at least 6 different angles. It was fairly crowded, filled with busybodies coming and going through the door. With 7 people on their laptops, they could narrow down the search for the culprit. But not by much.

Until two figures left the café at the same time, approximately a few minutes after the breach, but neither of them were sitting next to each other.

It was one or the other.

Tyler Hess, banker. Went to school in the city, stayed in the city. Clean records, comes from an upper middle class family. Nothing of note.

[Y/N] [L/N], cybersecurity engineer at LabyrinthTech, and one of the more favored employees. Born and raised in Gotham, graduated college a year early, and by all accounts, highly intelligent. Clean records, but skilled enough to be the one behind the hack.

"Well, I think we found our suspect. What're you gonna do about it?" Jason bristled, apprehensive that this person knew all about him.

"'You'? What, you've got your own plan?" Dick retorted.

"Maybe. Not like I'm gonna hurt the little thing," he spat. It was invasive enough that you'd hacked into their records, he thinks a little scare is warranted.

Bruce interrupted, "No, I'll deal with this. They accessed our data for a reason."

<>

It was inevitable that one of them was gonna pay you a visit tonight.

After locking yourself in the apartment, you figured a quick nap would be a good distraction from it. And it was, for a couple hours. Upon waking, you walked into the living room and lo and behold, vengeance himself was standing in your apartment.

"Can't say I didn't expect this, really," you spoke carefully, avoiding his gaze.

He grunted, "Then you know why I'm here. Why'd you do it? What do you gain from figuring out our identities?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a shadow moving across your window.

"Nothing. I just got curious. All billionaires are shady, and they're all hiding something. You were, by far, the most suspicious," you let out a breath. "Don't worry, that's not what anyone else thinks, at least not anyone that can do what I do,"

You hear another voice joining the conversation.

"Do what? Invade people's privacy? You should really be careful where you stick your nose in, hacker."

If looks could kill, you'd be dead ten times over. God, this guy's intense even through that helmet.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, date of birth: August 16th, date of death: April 27th, 6'0, occasional smoker, former Robin. Likes pot roast.

Batman— no, Bruce Wayne interjected, "Suspicious?"

"Might just be me, but I found it hard to believe the richest man in the world would be throwing so much money into this dump of a city without an ulterior motive," you look at one of the ears on his cowl, it was almost cute, "Every other rich guy did. Whatever money they put out, it came back to them ten times bigger. Nobody really felt for this city."

That was your angle? The two men went still at your somber admittance. Sure, Gotham wasn't the best city, but that's why they did what they did, wasn't it? They had the slightest urge to show you that they really did care. And perhaps show off a bit.

Jason shifted, "You did it because of a gut feeling?"

You shrugged, "It was right, wasn't it? Something was up, just not... in the way I expected,"

It wasn't everyday you uncover a vigilante that turned out to be Gotham's beloved billionaire.

"Anyway, congratulations on not being an entirely bad guy. 'm not gonna tell anyone," you murmured, "not like anyone's gonna believe me,"

You see Red Hood look at Batman, a silent conversation was, no doubt, occurring.

The two vigilantes head for your window— do these guys ever use the front door?

Bruce turns to you, "Try not to do it again,"

"No promises," you huffed. "But your defenses could use some work. Comms, body cams, and other recorded footage— they were just there."

Red Hood's helmet glinted as he tilted his head at you. You shivered.

"Right, won't do it again," and that was that.

It was like they were never here.

What a night.

<>

You scrutinized the letter in your hands.

A job offer for a position you've never interviewed for. At Wayne Enterprises.

Batman works quick, that's for sure.

The pay was good, very good. You reckon there wasn't a single complaint about that.

Hm, they're making sure you're under their watch. If you were a threat, you'd be easier to keep an eye on. Easier to control.

You weren't one to give up control, but potentially having access to the city’s… well, everything, was something too tempting to give up.

Looks like LabyrinthTech was losing their best employee.

[thewitchblue]

"I'm curious about something."

Jason asked you one snowy November. You turned away from your computer to face him with a fond smile on your face. You were working on a case for him by researching the deceased and locating their soul to speak to the victim. He approached you and leaned against the desk. You asked,

"What's up, buttercup? What's on your pretty mind?"

You noticed his hand trying to hold yours, but you turn ghostly to prevent him from touching you. You're a grim reaper, one of several scattered throughout different continents, and very dead. Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he asks as casually as possible,

"Is it true about the embrace of death?"

Well, that's a new thought you didn't expect to hear him ask. You blinked in confusion before answering vaguely,

"I'm a Reaper, pretty boy. Consider me one of the Valkyries from Norse mythology; I'm here to guide souls to their specific place. I don't embrace or kiss the souls. Their soul is often already floating around when I get there. That's why some people experience after-death moments with loved ones. Grandma's last kiss, a child holding their mother's hand, parents embracing their newly orphaned children, little things like that."

You weren't sure how to explain your job in a way that makes sense for the living, but you tried. Jason seemed unsatisfied by your answer, so you asked kindly,

"What did you really want to know, my love?"

He frowned at your ghostly hand. Is it really too much to want to touch his partner? He paused and said after a beat of silence,

"I... want to hold your hand and kiss you, but you always pull away. I want to know why."

You gave him a sad look and softly admit,

"I've never touched a living soul since my death. I'm worried what will happen to you if I did touch you."

He grumbled and offered his father as a sacrificial lamb to find out what happens, but you laughed and softly said,

"If you can stomach Bruce being the first man to ever touch me post-mortem, I'll touch him."

You knew that wouldn't be the case. He huffed and pouted, but softly admitted,

"I want to be the first man you ever touch since your death."

You look at him seriously for a moment. You know Jason would drop the topic if you told him no, but part of you wanted to say yes. You weren't sure if you wanted to let this go. You want to hold his hand on a cold winter day and kiss him thousands of times to make up for lost time.

With great hesitation, you touched Jason's arm. He was warm against your timid hand and so muscular. You slowly run your hands along his arms while watching him carefully. You waited to see if he was feeling anything negative. You weren't sure if you felt his life force leaving him or his pulse racing under your hand as you held his wrist in your fingers.

Jason shivered under your light touch. You were freezing cold, but he didn't feel any different than he felt before. You looked in awe that you could touch a living soul without consequences, and he was so smug.

He had a feeling it would be okay to touch you. He thought it was adorable that you wanted to protect him from your ghostly touch, nonetheless. He was only 87% sure he would have been fine. He didn't know if you could turn your power on-and-off like he hoped and now knew was possible.

You hadn't known people could be this warm. You've been dead for so long, you had forgotten. Souls are cold, so you're never warm.

You grin at him and immediate pull him into a kiss. You could kiss him! His soul isn't being pulled out of him! You were ecstatic. Once you started, you found you couldn't stop.

You gave him thousands of kisses as he chuckled. He's never seen you so happy. You held both his hands in your scarred ones.

Your soul shines in happiness, which makes him grin. He loves you and loves the confirmation you loved him, too. Your soul tells him everything you're feeling, and he's never seen you this happy. It's reassuring to see your love for him pulsing throughout your ghostly spirit. It's like you couldn't keep it in.

Your eyes lit up at the new revolution. You were bursting with love and adoration. You tell him as you held his face in your hands,

"These hands are forever yours. You're going to be stuck with me now onwards."

He laughed at the serious tone and kissed your hands with a grin on his face. The lights in your apartment flicker in response to your happiness, but you can't help it. Your powers charge and pulse when you get emotional.

You murmur as you caress his face in your hands,

"I love you."

You run your fingers through his hair while he buries his face in your neck and wraps his arms around you.

"I know, pipsqueak."

He nips your neck playfully, partially surprised you let him. You kiss his forehead and draw him closer with your arms,

"Good. You deserve to know."

[n0rmal-cat]

Streamer x shrunken rival streamer

[friends with benefits, but the benefits is a nap]

Reader and streamer Yan had always hated each other, you both had similar content and brands, so it was no wonder you two were seen as competitors.

Every time Chat mentioned their name reader would go on a twenty-minute rant on them, they were a cocky bastard that only cared about themself, what made it worse was that whenever the two would talk to each other whether it be online or on the stream they would always try to flirt with them. Because of that chat had a different interpretation of this relationship, it wasn't hard to find ship art of you two together online.

When it was announced that both of you would be going to the same streaming con fans were ecstatic, there were already several fanfics online about their "meet cute".

When the reader arrived at the con however it was anything but, they had been burnt out for a while and seeing hundreds of people an hour was not helping.

They just wanted to go home, but then that would lead to a whole other thing with their fans, god they needed a break.

So they just decided to go outside for a bit to get some fresh air instead, "I should have just taken a vacation or something, but then blah blah blah I would have had to make it into content and fuck" they put their head in their hands, they went back into the con shortly after if only they knew someone had been keeping a very close eye on them the entire time, taking note of everything reader said.

After the first day of the con, their fans had started to post, some were excited to meet them, and some were talking about the event, but the ones that spoke the loudest to them were the ones that talked about how tired they looked, it didn't matter if it was only one comment, it dug deep.

They didn't go to the second day of the con, they posted about feeling sick but it was all just a lie. They lay in their bed for what seemed like hours eventually they just fell asleep.

And when they woke they felt better then, they felt clean and like they had been given a full body massage. They turned in the hotel bed, only to realize it wasn't the hotel bed.

Instead, they found themselves in a giant, vaguely familiar room, the surface beneath them not quite a bed. “Did you have a nice sleep, doll?” A voice sliced through the haze, catching them off-guard.

At that moment, reality began to click into place: they were in Yan’s room, and they were ten inches tall.

A confused and scared reader could do nothing up stare up at them in fear.

“Hey, don’t look so scared, doll. You’re safe here. You can go back to sleep if you'd like,” they said, their tone surprisingly soft.

“W-what did you do to me? How am I—” Panic surged as overwhelming emotion threatened to choke them, and they felt tears spill over, rendering them momentarily voiceless.

“Shh, it’s okay,” they reassured, lifting them effortlessly and placing them on their chest, positioning them to see their computer screen. “You need to take a break. You looked dead when I saw you.”

“But I—” they started, but yan interrupted.“No buts. You’ll be taking a week off from everything. I already posted your best on social media.”

Reader was still stunned and couldn't speak. “Look, you can watch me play,” they continued, pulling up a cozy-looking game on the screen.

As they played, they kept them close, a steady cadence of their heartbeat filling the air. They engaged them with questions, Were they feeling okay? Were they hungry? Did they want him to turn the sound down?

But all Reader could focus on was the rhythmic drumming of their heart, a strange comfort. It was gonna be a long week.

[hypewinter]

I got a take on the Danny is Damian's older brother au. He's Damian's brother but he's his adopted brother. So hear me out:

Danny is running away post TUE and he encounters some assassins. For whatever reason they get into a fight and he beats them. This ends up getting back to Ra's who is quite curious about who beat up his most prized assassins effortlessly. After some investigation, he extends an invite for Danny to train under him. On Danny's part, he jumps at the chance to disappear off the face of the earth and have a free place to stay.

Danny ends up being an absolute prodigy. This is him close to being Dan so his morals are much shakier. He doesn't leap at the opportunity to kill, but he's most definitely not above it if need be. Combine that with his ghost powers and personal training by Ra's himself and the guy becomes like the golden standard within the league. So much so to the point where Ra's even names him his heir and adopts him. Though Danny insists he is his adopted grandson and not adopted son.

Flashforward to Damian being born and Ra's obviously wants him to be his new heir. Not that Danny has any problem with this. He's very clearly Ra's favorite considering the things he's allowed to get away with. Like letting targets go, having worldly possessions in his room (TV, gaming console, computer, etc), and even befriending his subordinates (Ra's particularly doesn't like that one but knows Danny will never allow it to become a weakness for him). Even if Danny wasn't the heir, he would still maintain a significant level of authority within the league (again not that he cares about having power as long as there's a roof over his head).

The problem is, Damian can't compete with Danny. After all, who could match up to a highly trained half ghost with dubious morals? Let alone a kid. Too bad Ra's doesn't see it that way. He sees Damian as a failure who will never measure up to Danny. That's why he sends the boy off to live with his father. It's under the excuse that he'll be receiving a different sort of training but in reality, the Demon Head no longer wants anything to do with his biological grandson.

Obviously this turns into quite the complex for Damian. Meanwhile Danny absolutely adores Damian. From the moment he was introduced to the baby he was ecstatic. He'd always wanted to be an older brother. He would constantly be barging into Damian's room to hang out and whenever they'd sparred together, he'd try to let him win. Ra's quickly caught onto that one and put a stop to it immediately though. Basically Danny is Damian's League of Assassins version of Dick. An example of what he's supposed to be that he will always compare himself to (and that also has no idea what personal space is).

Danny loved his little brother so much that he even managed to get a mission to Gotham about a year after Damian had been sent there in order to surprise him with a belated birthday present.

The bats are absolutely shocked with an assassin suddenly charges at Damian and before anyone can react, scoops him into a hug. Damian is screeching bloody murder as he attempts to get Danny to let him go. Danny is just hugging him while saying stuff like "I missed you little brother" and "You've grown so much since I last saw you" all while avoiding knives to the chest.

The bats get shocked x2 because wait.... little brother!? Talia had another child!? And one far older than Damian to boot. Damian is quick to clarify that Danny is adopted while still trying to stab him. Imagine the boy's horror and Danny's delight when he gets invited back to the batcave to speak further.

[apricityxoxo]

nerdy college student nanami

nerd!nanami x fem!reader

summary: Nerdy College Student Nanami doesn't have time for anything besides good grades; nothing else matters. Not until you walk in late.

warnings: fluff and a bit of suggestive material at the end

wc: 1.3k

been gone for a while lol, hopefully ill be more consistent

Nerdy College Student Nanami, who only has time for school. He thinks that if he works hard now, he can relax in the future. The only things that matter to him are his grades and learning; he has no time for anything else. He’s not like the rest of his friends who have fun at parties and drink till they can't remember their name. If he wanted to de-stress or have fun, He would just read or play video games. He had too much important stuff to do than waste time recovering from a hangover.

Nerdy College Student Nanami, who has to adjust his glasses when he sees you when you run in late to your English literature class, sees you offer your professor an apology and a shy smile and watches you as you walk up the stairs and choose the seat right in front of him. He realizes that this whole time when his nose has been buried in his notes, he's missed seeing you.

Nerdy College Student Nanami slaps at Gojo's hand when he loudly comments on his now sweaty figure, drawing the attention of others around them. “Ouch, Damn I was just asking! You're so meannnn,” Gojo whines, earning a few laughs from the students around him, including yourself. Who can't wipe the smile off his face after you smiled at him while packing up your computer.

Nerdy College Student Nanami now looks forward to going to class. He's ecstatic to see that you've taken a liking to sitting in the row in front of his seat. It's perfect. He likes seeing the different ways you style your hair, the different outfits you wear, he gets happy seeing you in something that's just a little bit too tight or too short.

Nerdy College Student Nanami who can’t even take notes anymore because he is too busy staring at your back or profile. “Hey, can I see your notes?” Gojo asks with a pout and puppy eyes. “No,” he replies, realizing that he didn't even write anything past the date. 

Nerdy College Student Nanami, who is now so forgetful because of you, forgets that the reason to go to class is to learn and not to admire you. “Can I borrow a pen, Satoru?” Nanami asks quietly. “Why should I? It's not you ever help me. You're so mean, and I always have to fend for myself,” Gojo rants, and he progressively gets louder, so loud that Nanami puts his head in his hands in embarrassment. Gojo continues “ I mean shit, when i ask for notes you dont even look my-” “You could borrow mine,” You cut off Gojo. Nanami lifts his head and sees the girl he's been watching for weeks, staring right at him. “Thank you,” He replies nervously, grabbing your cute pink pen. Gojo rolls his eyes and continues to mope in his seat. 

Nerdy College Student Nanami earns a ‘hi’ and smile from you every class now. He gets there earlier and stays late just to see you come in and walk out at the same time as you just for you to look his way to smile and say bye with a cute wave. 

Nerdy College Student Nanami gets upset because he realizes that he only has a month left in this class and hasn't had a proper conversation with you. He sees his chance when the professor announces that the students must partner up for the final research project. “Okaaay, so I was thinking that you can do all the research and talking and I just look cute and support you and then…” Gojo continues making plans for the project but doesn't realize that Nanami isn't listening. Instead, he too focused on you as you look around at the people around you, trying to find a partner. “Do you need a partner?” He asked you, ignoring the offended expression on Gojo's face. “Yes, please,” you reply to him with the prettiest smile he's ever seen on your face. Who returns the smile and sits back in his chair when you turn back around and focus on the professor. Nerdy College Student Nanami is so happy that he doesn't even care that Gojo is giving him a death glare.  

Nerdy College Student Nanami whose heart starts to race when he sees you approach him after class. “Hey, it's Kento, right?” He nods his head and asks for your name, even though he already knows it. “I was thinking that we could exchange numbers so that we can start making plans for the project. Is that okay?” He can only nod in response. 

Nerdy College Student Nanami is holding his phone now in his sweaty hands, trying to think of anything to send to you. In the privacy of his shared dorm with Gojo he bounces his knee with a frown on his face trying to think of anything. He was about to write out another sentence when you text first. 

❀: Heyyyy Kento!! I was wondering if we can start working on the project on Thursday?  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Ken: Yeah that works with me

Ken: at the library?

❀: Yep! That's perf, it's a date! see you then  ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Nerdy College Student Nanami wears his best outfit to his study date. He tamed his messy hair and sprayed the smallest amount of cologne on himself, an expensive one that he had stolen from Gojo in their shared dorm. When he arrives he sees that you're already there, sitting cutely wearing a light pink knitted sweater that was a tight fit and a deep v-neck. You look up and smile at him, and it makes his pants tight. You both work for hours sometimes in silence and sometimes ignore the assignment just to get to know eachother. He looks into your eyes and nods when you tell him something interesting about yourself, trying hard not to peek into your shirt.

Nerdy College Student Nanami who gets to see you three times every week for your study dates, which slowly move from the library to his dorm. These “Study dates” can't even be called that anymore because you two haven't talked about literature in weeks. You both start getting more comfortable around eachother. Nerdy Nanami lets go of his uptight behavior and lets you see a different side of him. He makes you laugh and tells you stories about the few times Gojo forced him to go to a lively college party. You start getting more comfortable too, you started by bringing delicious baked goods for the two of you, and then here you are today with a six pack of beer and pizza. You came wearing baggy jeans and a tank top, and he's pretty sure you're not wearing a bra. 

Nerdy College Student Nanami is on his third beer, and you just finished your second with a giggle. “You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were soooooo scary.” You giggle at him, placing your hand on his thigh and taking a bite out of your slice of pizza. You have been in his room for a couple of hours, and he's getting really comfortable around you. There is no space between you two, and you both don't even have your computers open. His legs are spread wide, and your hand is too close for a friend. You don't even realize what you're doing to him.  He looks at the hand on his thigh, and then he pushes up his glasses to look at you in your face. Yeah… you both are really comfortable now, so comfortable that he has to send a text to Gojo. 

Ken: Don’t come back to the dorm for a few hours. 

*3 missed calls*

Satoru: WHHAAAT

Satoru: What does that mean??!?!?!?!?!?!??!

Satoru: I thought you were studying?!!

Satoru: WAIT!!

Satoru: Are you…getting your freak on?? OMGGG (˶˃ ᗜ ˂˶)

Gojo’s fifteen other texts go ignored. 

Nerdy college student Nanami who barely passed this class with a C- because you both failed your final project, but he honeslty couldn't care less. Not when he has you, months after that class ended, sitting on his lap with your hands under his shirt, caressing his chest and with your face in his neck.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

ok im done now, idk how i feel about this lol

I also have a couple of asks that I will work on soon, I’m sorry it’s been sooo long but pls send more

[studiogrimm810]

Not Good For You

pairings/characters: sam winchester x gn!you, dean is barely there

summary: when sam realizes his feelings for you he gets scared and distances himself from you and you confront him about it

warnings: sexual tension, light make-out scene, self doubt

word count: 2,682

A/N: i'm thinking of doing a part two as a follow up smut scene, currently undecided but i would love to hear your thoughts!!

(edit: i made a part 2!! Good Enough)

———————

The three of you had just gotten back from the police station. The boys had used their FBI badges to get information on some disappearances around town and Sam was confident enough that he had enough information to research what they would be hunting. Dean led the way into the motel room and quickly shed off his jacket and loosened his tie. Sam followed suit, rolling up his sleeves before grabbing his computer bag and sitting at the table provided in the motel's kitchenette.

Sam calls out your name, “do you wanna help?” He asks with a small, warm smile and gesturing to a chair across from him.

“‘Course,” you go grab your own bag and pull out your laptop and notebook. You settle in across from Sam and look up to see Dean flipping through the notes that Sam made.

“I’m really thinking it’s a witch. God, I hate witches,” Dean grumbles, setting the notes back down in front of Sam.

“I’m sure you’re right, but we need to figure out its motive and pattern,” Sam sets his chin in his hand, scrolling through his laptop. You grab Sam's notes and flip through the small pages, getting a glimpse over the information.

You start your research and Dean makes a few more phone calls. Every few minutes or so, you catch Sam looking at you and you give him a small smile but he just looks back down at his laptop.

Your recent relationship with Sam has been a bit tense. When you met the brothers a year or so ago, you started to team up every now and again with them when you were working the same case, but for the past few weeks you had followed them on the road from town to town. You three worked together like a well-oiled machine and you honestly wouldn’t pass up spending more time with Sam who had become a dear friend. Although, this is the fourth case in a row you’ve worked together and it seems like Sam has been getting quieter and quieter the more you’re in his presence.

Dean, however, had been ecstatic. He very much enjoyed your company and kept asking for your help with new hunts. You wondered if this was something he ever thought to run by Sam first.

It was odd, usually there was this spark between you and Sam, you had gotten along beautifully and became quite a good team. Sam seemed to enjoy the hours of research you’d help with and the extra set of eyes to witness and make fun of Dean and his dad-humor.

There had also been this current between you two- electric and heated.

Or maybe you just imagined it.

Because the way Sam was acting now was as if you two were just stuck together for a class assignment.

And it was starting to really piss you off.

An hour or so passes before Dean mentioned getting food and left to order takeout from somewhere.

Sam had undone a few of his buttons and completely discarded his tie by now, and his hair was a little messy from how often he had been running his hands through it. The sun was starting to set and you decided to be done with research because the glare of the sun on your screen was giving you a headache. Sam's head popped up for a moment to watch your hands close the lid but he darted his look back to his own screen.

“Are you okay?” You finally blurt out, looking at him with furrowed brows and a mixed look of confusion and little hurt. His head pops back up for a moment, a little taken back. The way his mouth moves nervously and eyes leave your face makes you think he knows that you’ve picked up on his behavior.

“I’m fine,” he smiles with a small nod, unconvincingly. You sigh softly and look down for a moment before speaking again.

“I think after this hunt I’m gonna head west for a while, check out the coast,” you say, stacking your notebook and laptop to shove it back in your bag. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his face soften into his trademark puppy-dog look but he quickly fixes his face and just nods.

“Okay, yeah,” he clears his throat and closes the lid of his laptop. It’s awkward for a moment. Your hands still hold your bag as you’re leaning over from putting away your items, stuck for a moment to decide what you’re gonna do next. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been tired,” he adds, you can tell he really is sorry, but he’s still lying. 

You drop your hold on your bag and straighten your posture again. “That’s not it,” you state, wanting him to just admit whatever it is that’s going on. “You’re different and I don’t like it,” you continue, looking over his face for a reaction. He swallows and looks down, he’s thinking something deeper, clearer, but he won’t admit it. “Just tell me what’s wrong, please,” you push, knowing- hoping that he will just give in.

It’s quiet for a moment or two before he speaks again. “I think I’m just a bit burnt out from the job,” he says, packing away his own study items in his bag and standing to walk to his bed. You stand with him.

“Sam- don’t bullshit me, I know you,” you scoff, following him. He sets his bag down and spins around to you.

“You don’t know me and I don’t have to tell you everything,” he defends, “You're just a friend helping us out with a few cases, I don’t owe you anything,” he bites, you can tell his heart is pounding from the way his shoulders rise and fall with each breath. You take a step back, not used to this behavior from Sam.

You don’t know what to say. His words cut through your chest like a knife and you feel furious. You look over his face for any hint of an explanation for this behavior because you had never seen him like this before, he had always openly and readily shared his thoughts or feelings. The both of you have had numerous meaningful conversations in the past so you don't understand why he’s lashing out like this.

“Sam-“ you’re at a loss for words, hurt by his outburst, you’re not sure if you should give into your own anger and argue back or try to stay calm and talk him down. Sam lets out a huff of heavy air, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders slump. He runs a hand through his still messy hair. You try to ignore the way his hair, worn-in shirt, and panting frustration make him look and really, if his anger wasn’t directed at you, it would be a lot harder to contain your thoughts.

“Sam, you can talk to me,” you settle for calm coaxing, knowing your own burst of anger won’t help anybody right now. He turns to pace to the other side of the motel room, you just watch him. You can tell he’s trying to gather his thoughts which seem to be spilled everywhere like an annoying red wine, staining his mind- overcoming him completely. He stops for a moment and you can tell he’s just about come up with something to say.

“It’s complicated,” he sounds so defeated as he follows his words with your name, addressing you completely as his eyes meet your own. You would never understand how such a tall, broad, strong man could sometimes look so beautifully pitiful when overwhelmed with emotion just as he is now. Somehow, even when having a good difference of height over you, he’s found a way to look up at you.

“Take your time,” you say without missing a beat, trying to reassure him that you’re there for him. He’s quiet again and for a second his eyes dip down to your lips or neck, or maybe both. You take a few steps closer, showing him again that you’re here for him. “Something is up with you and I just want to help. Is it me? I know I’ve been around a lot lately and-“

“No, no. It’s not you,” he takes an instinctive step forward, “you’re never the problem.” He shakes his head softly, his gaze has altered slowly over the past few moments and now he’s looking back down on you, a look you’re more used to seeing from him. He’s gathered himself again- well, his confidence at least- because his hand reaches up in a gentle fist to let his thumb caress your cheek.

You’re stunned for a moment, not used to such a ginger and intimate touch from him. Your brows furrow slightly and you tilt your head, not meaning to lean into his hold more but not complaining.

His eyes search your face again and this time you can discern when he’s looking at your lips or neck or eyes. There’s a triad of emotion going on in his eyes but you don’t think you could list which three. They’ve clouded his vision and absorbed the previous stain, funneling it all through to his own lips but instead of speaking, he swiftly opens the span of his fist to hook his fingertips at the catch of your neck and pull you up to him. You’re so taken off guard at the quick movement that you stumble but his other hand is quick to press to your lower back and steady you against his hold, engulfing you completely.

Your hands were lifted in surprise but now idle as you melt into him, letting him support your balance fully. His hand slips back a bit into your hair and ever so slightly twists around a strand. The taste of him alone is enough to short-circuit your mind but the independent touches of his hands on your body and his chest pressed to yours make you weak.

He’s giving his all into this kiss- the good, the bad, the anger and the pain.

As your lips unlock you hold back a whine of discontent and he rests his forehead on yours, caressing your cheek with his thumb and his eyes still closed.

He’s so warm, all you can really focus on is how warm he is.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his face overlaid with pain. You pull back enough to look up at him.

“Why are you apologizing?” You ask, still a little dizzy and probably a lot flushed.

“I can’t do this to you,” he mutters and lets go of you completely, taking a step back. Cold air quickly wraps around you and you really want him to hold you again.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, taking a step closer to him but he matches your dance and backs up in sync and that hurts. “Sam-” you call softly, trying to get him to look at you again.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair again. “I can’t do this to you,” he scoffs as if seeing himself as a joke. He sits on the edge of his bed and you just stand for a minute, completely confused.

“Talk to me, Sam,” you plead softly, sitting beside him and you’re relieved when he doesn’t move away or tense up.

“I can’t do this to you,” he repeats and the tone in his voice makes it seem like he thinks it will answer all of your questions if he says it enough.

“Do what?” You push.

“I just can’t,” his eyes squeeze closed in ignorant pain, trying to avoid your gaze and forget everything he’s feeling, “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not good for you,” he scoffs out again, finding dry humor in his own misery, “and I can’t be selfish with you. The life you and I live is dangerous, but together it’s damn near suicidal. I can’t do that to you, I can’t put you in danger- I’m not safe for you,” he says, voice thick with emotion and packed with a thousand more unspoken words- words that quite frankly wouldn’t do him justice. “I’m so sorry.” He peppers your name a few times through his raw explanation and each time he addresses you it makes your stomach flutter and refills the rosy flush on your cheeks. Honestly, you could smack him for kissing you like that just to apologize and speak of it as if it were a mistake.

“How long have you felt like this?” His admittance of feelings for you makes complete sense when paired with his distancing from you, as much as you hate to admit, you understand.

“I’ve always known I’m bad for the people around me,” his words break your heart, he really thinks that? “I’ve accepted that but I can’t let you get caught up in our mess,” he means Dean too.

“Sam, everyone has a mess, and you are not bad for the people around you,” you state, believing every word. He shakes his head with a small scoff, immediately brushing you off. “No, Sam, listen to me,” you grab his hand and squeeze it gently, his eyes drag to your grip and his face softens. “You are good. You are kind and generous and you have a good heart and good intentions. You aren’t bad for the people around you, you protect and love and care for your people and it shows,” you can tell he’s listening to and battling your words in his wine-stained mind, a mess you can’t even imagine, “I know that the life we lead isn’t a damn picnic and I also know that maybe it isn’t the smartest idea but what I do know is that if we have a chance to make ourselves happier then we’re idiots if we give that up.”

You let him absorb every thought at his own pace, the quiet like a blanket of comfort for you both.

He finally looks back up at you, every inch of his face showcasing the internal battle he’s having with himself.

“This isn’t smart,” he agrees with a small shake of his head, his eyes betraying him as they dip back down to your lips, hungry and needy. Fucking needy.

“We don’t always have to be, Sam,” you challenge softly, hoping to god that he’ll just give in and hold you and kiss you like that again.

His chest heaves softly, already panting- so fucking needy. The glint in his eyes show what you might as well call fear- of losing you and of having you.

His free hand grabs your chin gently but forcefully leads you to him, his warm lips taking yours again in a soft, sweet, terrifying battle of what-if’s and worst-cases. You grip his hand tighter and use the leverage to climb over top of him to get a batter angle, straddling his lap. His hands land on your hips and his fingers dig just enough to make you tremble at his grip. One hand remains as the other runs up your back and into your hair again, more forceful than your first kiss and way more intoxicating.

Your hands cup his jaw, guiding him along with your lips. He gets to guide your bodies, pressed close and sensual, but when it comes to his sweet mouth you take lead. You can tell your own forcefulness on him makes him feel weak by the sounds that escaped his and your collided lips.

He pulls back for a moment to get a good look at you, hair messy, lips puffy and cheeks flushed. He quickly lifts you and places you on your back on the bed. “I warned you,” he murmured, crawling back over you and letting his hand cup your neck again- a ghost of his previous hold.

To be fair, he really did warn you.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here