#and i saw it!!!!!!!! it was so fucking tiny lol and it took me forever to find the star it was supposed to be by

[ao3gingerswag]

Guess who took the train to the end of the line and stomped thru the woods for 30 minutes and trespassed on a golf course just to see a tiny barely visible green dot in the sky :)) this bitch!!!! :)) I Saw The Green Comet :)))

[extra-gray]

— TWO HANDS?

MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI!

PAIRING: Lee Minho x Seo Changbin

WARNINGS: Anal sex (Minho giving/Changbin receiving), oral sex, face-fucking, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, bisexual Minho, “straight” Changbin, anal virgin Changbin (tell me if I missed anything)

WORD COUNT: 4k+ words

SYNOPSIS: Minho finds Changbin jerking off and decides to join him

A/N: I hope whoever reads this enjoys lol. I’m working on a Jongho x reader rn but I take forever to write… though stay tuned if you’re interested ;) feel free to give me any suggestions/prompts via my ask box <3

Everybody but Changbin was out doing god knows what, and he was thankful. He wanted to relax, alone, after a busy week. But at the other dorm, Minho was bored. He knew Changbin was alone, so he decided to go and bother him.

Scaring people made Minho sadistically happy, so when he arrived— he used his key to let himself in. Once he was inside, he saw that Changbin wasn’t anywhere to be seen… which meant he was probably in his room.

He locked the door behind him, and then he paused momentarily. There were interesting noises coming from down the hall.

He assumed Changbin was just playing a really stressful video game, so he went for the hallway and saw his door was cracked. Approaching slowly, he peeked in.

And immediately froze.

He saw Changbin lying in bed, back leaning against the headboard. He was wearing a tight black shirt that hugged his muscles, with his shorts and boxers pushed down to his thighs. Both of his hands were wrapped around his cock.

“Ah, fuck… yes,” he moaned, thrusting into his hands. His balls bounced as he did, making lewd noises, and Minho couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He didn’t know why.

Sure, he’s attracted to men... but Changbin is his friend.

And a straight one, at that.

He couldn’t look away, eyes trailing up his body and studying his facial expressions. He had no idea Changbin could make noises like that.

It was… hot.

Of course, Minho just had to lean in to get a better look. The door creaked, and he stumbled slightly. He cursed himself in his head, quickly straightening up like nothing happened.

Changbin panicked and covered himself up with his hands, “H-hyung, Jesus Christ! Go away!” He yelled, breathless with bright red cheeks and a heaving chest. Minho didn’t move an inch.

He just stood there, his expression unreadable.

“Fuck, go!” He shouted again, “Why are you even here?!”

There was a short moment of silence, when Minho finally spoke.

“Two hands?”

“Wh–” Changbin scoffed in disbelief, “What?”

He was getting very obviously annoyed now, and Minho could only smirk.

“Two hands. You were using two hands.”

Changbin clenched his jaw and looked away, “Dear god.”

The older pushed the door open further and took a few slow steps into the room, “Does it feel good?”

He sighed. All he could do was play along for now, until he went away.

“Yeah,” he said simply.

Minho hummed, stepping even closer, “Mind if I try it out?”

Changbin snapped his head towards him, clearly taken aback, “W-what is that supposed to mean?!”

Minho just slipped off his shoes and crawled into bed next to him, getting comfy with a deep sigh and leaning back against the headboard.

“Hyung, what the hell are you doing?!”

He honestly didn’t know. He was just listening to his body. And this is what it wanted.

He laughed quietly.

He pulled his sweatpants down, and then his boxers– exposing his hard, pretty cock. Above average in length and girth, a bit of blush on the tip of his foreskin. Nice full balls that sat perfectly. Changbin swallowed hard, staring in shock. Watching it throb.

He’d seen his fellow members naked, but he never really stared at their dicks. Especially not while they were erect.

Minho threw the clothes off the side of the bed and got comfortable again. Then, he wrapped a hand around the tip and pulled his foreskin down— his soft pink tip on full display. He swiped his finger over his slit, catching a tiny bit of precum. And then he wrapped his other hand around the base.

Changbin had an involuntary wave of pleasure rush through his body, forcing all the air out of his lungs. He wasn’t attracted to men. He was straight. So why was seeing Minho doing this to him? Why was it making him hornier?

Minho stroked slowly, his eyes instantly closing, “Nngh…”

Honestly, he thought his hyung sounded beautiful.

“Minho—“ he struggled, heart pounding against his rib cage, “S-Stop.”

Minho just sped up, bucking his hips into his hands. His jaw went slack, bunny teeth poking out. The noises he was making were low in his throat, and with every one— Changbin felt that same wave of pleasure.

He instinctively squeezed his cock, wanting the ache to go away. But looking at Minho’s leaking tip, watching his thigh muscles flex, and hearing him moan…

Fuck. He needed release.

“Keep touching yourself, Bin,” Minho smirked and lolled his head to look at him, “Don’t let me get in the way. I won’t tell anyone~” he winked, turning his head back.

Changbin couldn’t say anything. He kicked his shorts and boxers to the floor, and slowly wrapped his hands around his aching cock.

This is okay, right? They’re friends, so it’s okay. Changbin recalled stumbling across quite a few videos of friends jerking off together. He never watched them, but clearly it was a pretty… normal thing to do, right?

Fuck it, who cares. Changbin doesn’t let anyone influence his thoughts or actions. He’s his own man. And he didn’t see any reason not to do this.

He slowly began to stroke himself, tired of the tension. An accidental moan slipped out of his mouth, and he could’ve sworn he saw Minho thrust harder in response.

“Fuck—“ he moaned involuntarily, unable to take his eyes off his hyung, who was now looking at his dick.

Changbin found himself mirroring Minho’s movements. Speeding up as he did, slowing down as he did. His eyes drifted upwards to look at his face. He watched him stare at his dick, watched his mouth as he moaned. Seeing Minho get off to his body made him feel things he never has before.

Fuck, he couldn’t take it. He didn’t need to try and justify these feelings right now.

He reached over for Minho and grabbed onto his shirt— pulling him closer and pressing his lips against the sharp edge of his jaw.

Minho gasped in surprise and pleasure, but he had no time to be shocked… moaning as Changbin began peppering soft little kisses down to his chin. He left some kitten licks and nibbles on his skin here and there, and Minho couldn’t believe it. He didn’t think Changbin would touch him. He didn’t think he wanted to touch him.

And honestly, he couldn’t lie. He’s had to consciously suppress his urges a few times when it came to Changbin. He just didn’t want to be honest with himself.

“Yes, fuck—“ his voice, though loud, rang softly into the room. A hint of desperation hidden within it.

Hearing his name fall perfectly from those plump lips made Changbin absolutely feral. He couldn’t think straight right now. Has he had these feelings this whole time? He felt so pent up and needy, these feelings must have been hiding somewhere.

He snuck his hand under Minho’s shirt, feeling every inch of warm skin as he kissed the corner of his mouth. He was grinding against his thigh now, moaning under his breath as he throbbed.

“God— Bin… want you…” Minho whined, fucking into his hands erratically. The feeling of Changbin grinding against his thigh made him crazy. He turned his head and captured his lips within his own.

Changbin hummed into his mouth, palming his chest as he shoved his tongue inside to taste him. He knew immediately that he’d be craving it again. And again. And again.

His lips were so soft. He couldn’t get enough.

They parted for a second, and seeing Minho’s hooded lust-filled eyes threw the rest of his self control out the window.

He climbed on top of him and nearly ripped Minho’s shirt off, throwing it on the floor and reveling in the sight below him. He flattened his palms against his stomach, tracing along the scar towards the bottom. The heat radiated through Minho’s body, yet he shivered.

As Changbin did all of this, Minho couldn’t take his eyes off his cock. The way it swung heavily and throbbed between his legs. He looked up at him now, eyes dark.

“Yours,” he said, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

Changbin smirked and did as he was asked, watching Minho’s eyes flicker with excitement. A hand outstretched to slide up his abdomen, slow and steady with a serious expression as if he was studying a sculpture.

“God—“ Minho muttered.

Changbin crawled up his body to straddle him, sitting on his chest. He was so close that his cock brushed against his chin, and Minho clenched his jaw in anticipation. He rubbed and grabbed at his soft thighs, eyes wide and expectant. His arousal was through the roof at this point.

Changbin then grabbed ahold of his cock and scooted up a little more, pressing the tip against Minho’s full lips until they parted.

“Open.”

He obliged.

So he sunk into his hot, wet mouth with a loud moan. One of Minho’s hands grabbed his thick ass, while the other played with his tits. Pinching and pulling on his nipples. The combination was too good for Changbin. His body shook with excitement.

Minho’s eyes fluttered as he moaned around Changbin’s thick cock, not even gagging when it reached the back of his throat. He licked and sucked while his hands went and squeezed the skin that sat so perfectly on Changbin’s hips. He admired the stretch marks that painted them, wanting so bad to switch positions and pin him down so he could lick them. But he stayed still as he had his way with his mouth. Allowing himself to be used.

“Fuck—“ Changbin breathed out, clearly impressed by the lack of gag reflex.

Strong hands went to grab fistfuls of pretty brown hair as he fucked into his throat harder, the wet noises making his tummy do flips. The feeling of his balls slapping against his chin. The vibration of Minho’s moans took his pleasure to new heights, “Gah— I’m gonna cum—“

Minho opened his mouth even more, saliva dripping down the corners of his mouth. His eyebrows tented, moans more frequent now— like he was begging Changbin to cum. And he would be, if his throat wasn’t being filled.

“Yes,” Changbin pulled on Minho’s hair, fucking impossibly deeper into his tight throat, “Cumming, baby- I’m cumming… Fuck!”

Minho was shocked hearing Changbin call him baby… and then cum shot down his throat right after. Changbin’s cock spasmed, some of the cum beginning to spill out from Minho’s mouth as he continued to thrust. But he tried to swallow and lick it all the best he could.

His thrusts slowed as he panted, and he pulled out halfway— his body shaking and threatening to collapse. His eyes were heavy, and his cock was still twitching with aftershocks. When he pulled out completely, he climbed off of Minho and found his lips immediately.

As they kissed, Changbin couldn’t believe how hot it was to taste himself on his tongue. He licked his own cum off of Minho’s chin, making him moan. Changbin just hummed, the taste of his salty cum in Minho’s sweet mouth sending him to heaven.

When their lips parted, they shared an intimate moment of eye contact. Their breaths mingling together. And then Minho smirked, a hint of mischief hidden behind it.

Before Changbin could think, speak, or move— Minho switched their positions and pinned him down on his back. He could tell he was worn out, so this was the perfect opportunity to do what he wanted. Otherwise, Changbin could easily overpower him.

“Fuck—“ he gasped in surprise at the sudden show of dominance.

“Did it feel good?” Minho asked seductively, his voice hoarse from the abuse his throat just endured. His neglected cock bounced eagerly as he took off his sweatpants with his right hand, his left on Changbin’s chest holding him down.

His pupils were blown instantly, seeing Minho’s fully naked body in a new position.

“Fuck…” he repeated, reaching out to touch. His fingers traced the line in his hip, and then Minho grabbed his wrists to pin them above his head.

“I said… did it feel good?”

Changbin’s bare chest heaved, breath catching in his throat— feeling completely exposed in this position. But he didn’t hate it. Minho looked so sexy on top of him like this, his softening cock would surely spring back to life soon.

The air felt thick. Like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know how Minho’s dominance was able to overpower his own… how it was able to knock down his defenses and turn his brain to mush. But it did, and he couldn’t do a thing about it. His body felt numb and heavy.

“Y-yes…” he answered, breathless in a voice small. A blush began to spread across his face.

Minho narrowed his eyes, “Good boy.”

It seemed like Changbin enjoyed the praise, because his cock certainly twitched in response.

And then Minho quickly got between his legs, grabbing his thighs firmly and spreading them.

“W-what are you doing?!” Changbin asked, panicking as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Nothing you won’t like.”

Minho pushed him back down against the bed, pulling a gasp from him, and then pushed his legs up to his chest. Minho’s eyes lit up, his mouth beginning to water. Changbin’s asshole was so cute. It throbbed as he panicked, beckoning for Minho’s tongue. He got lost in the thought of plunging straight into his virgin hole, and was only brought back to reality when Changbin spoke.

“H-hyung!” he squirmed, “S-stop it! This is embarrassing!”

He bent forward and placed gentle kisses along his inner thigh, “Stop?” His hot breath grazed along Changbin’s sensitive skin, “You want me to stop?”

There was no hint of actual concern in his voice. Because he knew just by Changbin’s tone that his pleas weren’t serious.

“If you want me to stop, then why is your cock so hard? Hm?”

Changbin went silent, biting back the moans that threatened to escape as Minho buried his nose in the soft flesh of his thigh. He couldn’t say anything, no matter how hard he tried.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous baby,” he nearly purred, licking and sucking on the skin. Leaving dark marks in clusters and patterns. He squeezed his thighs harder, and Changbin’s back arched.

“S-shit…” he moaned under his breath, struggling, “What… what are you going to do?”

He reached down and placed a gentle hand atop Minho’s head, tangling his fingers into his hair. He rubbed his scalp as he moaned, the feeling of his tongue dragging across his asscheek causing anticipation to burn deep within.

Then suddenly, Minho’s soft lips made contact with his pretty hole. Kissing it tenderly.

It tightened immediately, Changbin gasping at the new sensation as he tugged on his hair to keep himself grounded, “F-fuck! Why—“

Minho didn’t let him finish, and instead pressed his tongue flat against him. Changbin was losing his mind at the warmth. The wetness. Not a single sound came out of his mouth, his body almost in shock from the foreign feeling.

His mind and insides were fuzzy, every nerve tingling as his blood rushed through his veins. Minho kept licking at his asshole, the tip of his tongue just barely dipping in every few seconds. And Changbin was coming undone.

“Holy shit…” he whimpered, pulling harder at his hair. Minho smirked before shoved his tongue all the way inside. Changbin gasped and moaned loud— hands scrambling to grip at the sheets. That familiar heat rose in his stomach again.

Then Minho suddenly pulled away, and Changbin couldn’t even whine to protest. There was a wicked grin on his face as Changbin’s eyes struggled to stay open.

“So good, baby…”

The younger held out his arms, and Minho laughed softly under his breath. He pulled himself up so he was hovering over him, and smashed their lips together. Changbin wrapped his arms around his body.

The kiss was desperate and messy. Uncoordinated. Both moaning into each other’s mouths as they tasted and explored every inch. Minho groped Changbin’s chest, his tummy, his hips, his thighs. Everything he could get his hands on.

And then he pulled away for a single second to spit on his fingers. Before Changbin could ask, he was caught by Minho’s lips again.

His fingers trailed down to his asshole, pressing against it while he drank Changbin’s pleasure.

They parted for air at the same time Minho pushed his middle finger inside, and he watched Changbin’s eyes widen. He watched the shock flash on his face, watched the gleam of discomfort, and then the confusing pleasure.

“M-Min—“ he struggled. Minho’s finger was all the way inside him now, starting to bend and search.

Changbin’s dick was slowly coming back to life, Minho’s painfully hard as it hung between his legs. But he knew he had to take his time. He didn’t want to hurt Changbin too much.

“Yes, Binnie?” He cooed, voice thick like honey. Changbin’s moans were going straight to his head. Fueling his dominance.

“You— Ah!—“ he suddenly cried out, body tensing hard as he felt a strong wave of pleasure roll through his entire being. His nails dug into Minho’s back.

He smirked, laughing teasingly, “Oh? Did I find it?”

Changbin screwed his eyes shut and pulled him closer, trapping him in his big arms, “M-more,” he begged.

“More?” Minho teased, feeling Changbin’s heaving chest against his own, “You want more, pretty boy?”

He pulled his finger almost all the way out, and Changbin shivered in anticipation, “Please.”

Another finger was added quickly, before Changbin could even process it— and now both were rammed into his prostate.

“Fuck, fuck!” He scratched down Minho’s back, making him groan in pain and pleasure.

Minho started kissing his neck as he scissored his fingers inside him, stretching him slowly. The soft noises he pulled from the same throat he was kissing left him absolutely desperate. He wanted to be inside Changbin so fucking bad.

“Feels so g-good, hyung…” he panted, opening his eyes and grabbing Minho’s face.

“Fuck,” Minho moaned, fingering him faster. Changbin looked so cute with his rosy cheeks and glossy eyes. The way he looked up at him was intoxicating.

The younger pulled him down into another wet kiss, and at the same moment, Minho added another finger. Changbin gasped into his mouth, but Minho didn’t let him free. He kept kissing him, through his pain and his pleasure. He was stretching in between thrusts, and made sure to reach for his prostate everytime.

Minho sucked on his tongue and his lips, and when he pulled away, his fingers left too.

“H-hyung…” Changbin whimpered in protest, lips red and swollen.

“Bin,” he responded, grabbing his thighs and pushing his legs up again. He lined his dick up so it brushed against his prepped hole, “I wanna fuck you.”

Changbin’s breath caught in his throat, his own dick now fully hard and leaking. Minho’s dominance made him feel unspeakable pleasure. His hole throbbed, and his insides ached. He reached out to let his hand slide down Minho’s front, and then he met his eyes again.

He pulled his hand away shyly, “I want you to fuck me, too.”

Minho had no idea how bad he wanted to hear that from Changbin. How bad he needed to hear that.

Without hesitation, almost in a hurry, he reached over to open his nightstand drawer. He assumed he’d have lube in there, and he was correct.

“Oh, that’s embarrassing…” Changbin groaned, covering his face.

Minho chuckled and poured some lube in his hand, “Embarrassing? When I’m about to fill your ass with my cock?”

Changbin moaned at his words, cock twitching. He had no idea how sexy his voice could be. He heard Minho slick his cock, and he uncovered his face to watch, “S-shut up.”

Minho smiled and then rubbed the rest of the lube on Changbin’s hole, making sure there was enough to make him comfortable. His view was breathtaking.

“I’ll make you shut up instead,” he said seriously, lining up his dick once more, “Now watch it go in.”

Changbin was taken aback by the sudden command, but he did as he was told. He tried to stay relaxed, but he couldn’t help tensing once Minho pushed in. His face scrunched up in pain, and even though it hurt… he couldn’t lie. Watching his own ass swallow every single inch of Minho’s cock was hot as fuck.

“Deep breaths, Changbin,” Minho wiped his hands off on the sheets so he could reach down and rub his cock, “Focus on the good feelings. It won’t hurt for long.”

Minho was having a hard time controlling himself, though. Changbin was so tight. So hot. So wet. He wanted to be deep inside him, wanted to be wrecking him. His cock was sore at this point, for being so hard without release for so long. But he wanted to give him a good experience.

Changbin tried to take deep breaths as he was told. Tried to drown out the burning sensation. It was all so new, so foreign, but a part of him kind of liked the pain.

Minho wrapped his hand around Changbin’s length and stroked him slowly, penetrating him deeper and deeper. He throbbed inside him, biting the inside of his cheek to hold in all the noises he so desperately wanted to make.

“F-fuck,” he exhaled, leaning forward to place kisses along Changbin’s throat– feeling it vibrate as he made small whines, “You feel so good, baby.”

“Nngh,” Changbin moaned, “Y-you’re big, hyung.”

“Yeah?” Minho said before licking his adams apple, “Wanna feel it balls deep?”

Minho’s breathing was ragged. Uneven, fast, and shaky. The feeling of Changbin’s hot, tight walls wrapped around him made it hard for him to have self control.

Changbin arched at the words, and he squirmed slightly under him. He wrapped his legs around Minho’s waist and pulled him impossibly close— forcing his cock to slam all the way inside.

“H-holy fuck—“ Changbin hissed, his back arching more. The feeling of Minho’s cock all the way inside him, right up against his prostate, made his mind start to melt. He didn’t even care about the pain.

The sound that Minho made was a mix of pleasure, surprise, and pure struggle. It took all of his willpower not to start drilling him instantly.

“You…” he struggled, “You okay?”

Changbin let out a shaky breath and allowed himself to adjust, “So deep…”

Minho hummed and bent down to kiss his face. He moved past his cheek to whisper in his ear.

“I don’t think you understand just how bad I want to fuck you, Seo Changbin…”

Changbin’s body ignited at his words, and his nails dug lightly into his biceps.

“Then fuck me.”

Minho immediately grabbed onto his hips and began to move. Long, deep strokes. Drowning in every noise he pulled from Changbin.

When he started writhing, obviously overtaken by pleasure— Minho held him down with a tighter grip on his hips. He smirked and sat up straight to get a good look at him, and then started fucking him harder, “Stay still, baby. Be a good boy and fucking take it.”

The new pace Minho had set made Changbin scratch down his arms, “Holy fuck!” He screamed, “Sh-Shit!”

“Yeah, you like that?” Minho nearly growled, watching his cock and balls bounce with every thrust. Watching how his thighs jiggled, and how his eyes rolled into the back of his head, “Tell me you like it.”

Changbin whimpered as he tried to speak, eyes screwed shut as his nails dug into Minho’s forearms. He gasped, struggling to even form a thought, “I l-love it…” he threw his head back, ”Please… Please don’t stop—“

Minho laughed and suddenly stopped.

“N-no…” Changbin whined, opening his eyes, “Why?”

“Turn over for me. On your hands and knees.”

He pulled out slowly, humming in satisfaction as he watched Changbin obey his orders.

Then without any warning, he slammed back into his tight little asshole— grabbing handfuls off his soft cheeks. The sound of his balls slapping his taint continuously made his stomach churn.

“Fuck! Yes!” Changbin’s moans were getting higher in pitch, and he even began to move backwards onto Minho’s cock, ���Fuck me, Minho. Please. Keep fucking me.”

“My god,” Minho growled and reached forward to grab a handful of his hair— pulling him up so his back was against his chest. And then he dug his nails into his hips, and sunk his teeth into his neck.

Changbin was trembling, moaning helplessly as his prostate endured the abuse. He felt his insides begin to stir, and he knew he was about to cum.

“Minho—“ he whimpered, “Minho-hyung, you’re gonna make me cum.”

His voice and his body was getting weaker by the minute, every thrust of Minho’s cock destroying him.

Minho was too lost in the ecstasy that he left several dark hickeys along his neck and shoulders. He was too caught up in the desire to mark him. To claim him.

As soon as Changbin announced he was going to cum, his thrusts got sloppy, “Fuck baby, cum on my cock. Your ass is so fucking good. Shit— I’m gonna cum—“

Minho reached around to grab ahold of Changbin’s cock and started stroking him fast. He felt him erupt in his hand. Felt it drip onto his hand.

“A-ah! H-holy fuck,” Changbin was moaning like a slut, bucking his hips into Minho’s hand.

And then his own balls began to empty— his cum painting the inside of Changbin’s ass as he continued to fuck and stroke him.

“Yes,” Changbin fell forward, shaking and barely holding himself up with his forearms, “Fill me with your cum. Please hyung.”

Minho’s moans were guttural. Like the pleasure was ripping through his body. Seeing Changbin in this position… his back arched, and his ass in the air. He came harder than he ever has before.

He could barely breathe.

His thrusts slowed, and he let go of Changbin’s softening cock. One last time, he sunk all the way into his ass— and just stayed still. Panting. Changbin moaned weakly, muffled slightly by the pillow he was now pressed against.

Minho licked the cum off of his hand, while the other ran up Changbin’s spine soothingly. He hummed at the familiar taste of his cum, and then pulled out slowly.

“Fuck baby…” he moaned and grabbed his asscheeks to spread them apart, “Look at that pretty hole.”

It was so gorgeously wrecked.

Changbin buried his face in his arms, groaning in embarrassment, “S-stop…”

Minho watched the cum ooze out, and he couldn’t believe this just happened. He took a deep breath and helped Changbin flip over on his back. A bit anxious now, Minho immediately kissed him as if to soothe it.

This time, it was a tender kiss. As they both panted and struggled to catch their breaths from their recent climaxes, they melted into the moment. Minho caressed his cheek with a softness that Changbin had never felt before, and it made him shiver.

When they parted, Minho couldn’t look away from his eyes, “How did it feel, Bin? I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad…”

His gaze trailed downward to all the marks he left on his neck and shoulders. He pursed his lips, going to trace them gently. He couldn’t help but feel scared that Changbin was going to push him away now.

“It was… really good. Really really good— what are you looking at?” Changbin’s eyebrows furrowed, trying to follow his eyes. He could only see the marks on his shoulders, which were big and dark, “Oh…”

Minho scrunched his face in a mix of sympathy and embarrassment, “I’m so sorry… it’s even worse on your neck—“

“My neck?!”

It wasn’t just a matter of explaining it to the members, it was a matter of explaining it to the entire company. The thought of everyone seeing him covered in hickeys was already so embarrassing, how could he cope with trying to make an excuse?

But at the same time, it made his heart flutter. Knowing he’d been claimed by him.

“I’m sorry, Changbin. I’ll take the fall for it. I’ll let everyone know. You don’t have to say a wor—“

Before he could finish his sentence, Changbin grabbed his face and smashed their lips together. Minho hummed in surprise, but ultimately sighed into the kiss and allowed himself to feel the warmth. Their bare bodies pressed against each other— chests rising and falling in sync.

Changbin moaned and broke the kiss first, “I’ll figure it out, hyung,” his hand went to tangle in his hair. Their faces were inches apart as they looked into each other’s eyes, “I’m not scared.”

He was at first… but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he had nothing to worry about. His classic confidence shone through, and showed on the big smile he gave Minho.

“Whether or not they know who marked me, I’ll wear it with pride.”

[gummydummy19]

Kinktober day 4: Spanking

This one's mine

Summary: Sy shows you who you belong to. (pretty simple lol)

Content Warning: Smut, fingering, mean Sy, slight degrading, tiny bit of angst, grumpy man with fluff-filled heart.

A/N: I had way too much fun with this teehee. Also, thank you to the very lovely @fictional-hooman for beta reading <3

Word Count: 1100+

"Sy, I said I was sorry!"

You closed the front door behind you and watched Sy pace around the living room.

The both of you had just gotten back from Sy's reunion with the boys from his last tour. It was all fun and games until one of the guys grabbed your ass and you didn't *immediately* pull away.

In all fairness, you'd had one too many glasses of wine and you didn't realize it wasn't Sy's hand until he punched the guy square in the jaw.

"Baby, I promise I thought it was you! I was a bit tipsy and I'm tired and-"

"And you can't recognize your own man's touch from someone else's?!" Sy shot back. You could tell how hurt he was. He took pride in how affected you always were by just one simple touch of him, and now that just seemed like a big fat lie.

"That's not true! I just-"

"Just what? Enjoyed his filthy paw groping your ass?"

"Sy, stop! That's not true and you know it" you were getting sick of his sulking, you loved him with all your heart and he damn well knew it!

"Whatever, woman. I'm going to bed," he said with a tired voice, running his palm down his face.

He looked kinda defeated, like a kid who just found out he wasn't actually the teacher's favorite. You groaned in annoyance as you followed him upstairs. As much as he got on your nerves with his jealousy, he was your man, and you hated it when he felt insecure.

And that's what it was. Insecurity.

You knew him, inside and out, and other people might see him as the big, strong leader who feared nothing, dripping with confidence, but you saw right through that. He often said he didn't deserve you. He saw a psychiatrist for his PTSD and he was in physiotherapy for his leg. He saw himself as half a man and you knew he often told himself you'd eventually leave him.

When you entered the bedroom, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at his feet.

"Baby?" you softly spoke, yet he didn't look up.

You walked over to him and stood between his legs, gently grabbing his face and making him meet your gaze.

"I'm yours. Forever and always, utterly and completely. Okay?"

He blinked up at you and you pressed a sweet kiss against his lips. His hands immediately flew to your waist and pulled you closer.

"Mine." He growled, tracing kisses down your neck.

"Yours," you promised, letting him pull off your dress and press kissing down the valley of your breasts.

Sy pulled you on his lap and suckled on your nipples while you threw your head back in absolute ecstasy. It was never a lie, his touch was unlike anything you'd ever felt before.

You started grinding on his growing bulge, getting all sorts of riled up and incredibly impatient.

"Fuck me, Sy...please!"

"Ah ah, not so fast, baby."

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Sy flipped you over and pulled your hips back, manhandling you in doggy.

"I think I should remind you who this belongs to."

And with that, his palm flew past your buttcheek, grazing it with a loud smack, leaving a stinging feeling in its wake.

"AH!" you moaned out, both from shock and pleasure.

"Who makes you scream like this, huh sugar?" He asked, delivering another firm smack to your ass.

"You!"

"That's right, hun."

You tried pushing back against his bulge, trying to get some friction against your needy, swollen lips.

Sy pulled you against him, letting you grind against his jeans. He leaned forward and left a few messy kisses on your bare shoulder before pulling back again.

He could see the wet spot forming on the crotch of your panties and it made him growl.

"Fuck, sugar, so wet for me, huh?"

"UHuuhhMmmAHH!" your reply morphed into a scream as another stinging slap fell on your already inflamed ass.

Sy's other hand ran over your spine. When he reached your neck he pushed you down, your weak arms immediately giving in so you fell face-first into the pillow. His thumb ran over your covered slit, making you shiver.

"Oh sy..." you hummed as he circled your clit.

"Yeah baby, remember that. It's me who's making you feel this good."

"It's you Sy, always been you, always will." more moans fell from your lips as he sped up

"You wanna cum, baby?"

"Yes, Sy, please! Please make me cum!!!"

"And do you think you deserve it? Huh? After being such a little slut at the bar? Letting other men touch what's mine?" He growled, still not slowing down his pace.

"Please, please, pleaseeee..." You babbled

"Look at you drooling over your pillow like the little cockdrunk whore you are. Who do you belong to, baby?"

"You!! I belong to you, Sy!"

"Don't you forget it!" He growled, delivering another merciless spank to your ass.

"Fuck Fuck Fuck! Gonna cum! M'gonna cum!!!"

"No, you're not!" *smack* "hold it you little brat!"

"PLEASE!"

"Who makes you feel this good???"

*smack*

"YOU!"

"Who do you come home to???"

*smack*

"YOU! SY!!"

"Who do you love?"

*smack*

"YOU! I LOVE YOU, SY!!!"

"Cum! Cum for me!"

You didn't have to be told twice. Your ass felt like it was on fire but you didn't care. Pleasure coursed through your body and you trembled as your vision went white.

Sy bent over you to press kisses on your shoulder like he knew you loved but to his surprise, you pulled away.

"Baby?" he asked gently, concern very evident in his tone.

"Hmm, don't worry it's just my butt, you were rubbing against my butt. Lay next to me." You mumbled

A relieved smile appeared on his face as he carefully moved to lay beside you, and pulled you against him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." He said.

"I hurt you first." you replied, "Besides, you hurt me consensually!"

That made him chuckle. He pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Sy."

"Good. Now I'm gonna go get some lotion to take care of those red cheeks and afterward I expect you to show me exactly how much you love me, ma'am"

"Aye aye, captain!" You happily agreed, quickly smacking his butt as he walked away to the bathroom.

A couple weeks later the boys decided to meet up again, only this time Sy had made sure there wouldn't be a repeat of last time. Because this time there was a big, shiny diamond on your finger with a clear message; this one's mine.

Taglist;

@metalbuckaroo

@princessayveke

@montsepliego

@scxrletrecsmarvel

@hopelesslyrogers

@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

@tfandtws

@vicmc624

@ahahafudge

@enchantedbarnes

@wickedravyn

@pono-pura-vida

@amayaraestyles

@matchat3a

@fictional-hooman

@sebastianexplicit

[thatdeadaquarius]

Imagine everyone in genshin could physically see when you lag. Collecting some sunsettia then my ping sky rockets to 999 and im frozen for a good minute in the middle of doing an attack 😭

SOB bro ive gotten caught in some DOWNRIGHT SILLY lags before- i would pass away if they saw that

Esp since i get them stuck then just start laughing my ass off 💀

This gif took me out this is so funny 😭 i had to put it here LMAO

I accidentally made Venti jump on top of a Aranara house when I was first exploring Sumeru and did that "flying in the air/jumpin down pose" but just. Through a palm leaf, he's just fluttering in the wind it was painfully ironic 😭

BRO

BRO

Bro.

What if u were isekaied to Genshin but it still has game rules, and so now ur like a character too,

SO U CAN ALSO LAGGGG STOPPP 😭😭😭

I would constantly be omw to the Backrooms 💀

Glitching thru magic shit bc im inpatient and wanna hurry (lagged myself thru some domain steps once)

OH MY GOD-

IF THEYRE AWARE

OF EVEN JUST YOU LAGGING THEIR BODIES

DUDE 😭

So this is unrelated to lag shit, but Ive just done so much silly ass things in game that they would find just as funny or dumb 💀

♤

So, When i first started Genshin I was on some Shit.

I had only rlly played one or two open world games before, and even then not for a long time, so I just like did the stupidest things

I was fighting in those early domains in Mondstadt right, and I had just gotten to the cutscene with Lisa and Traveler, I think thats all who were there

And I had just finished the last battle in the chamber, so I had just deployed Baron Bunny from Amber but killed the monsters before it could go off-

SO IN THE MIDDLE OF LISA TALKING- JUST AN EXPLOSION HAPPENS STAGE LEFT OFF SCREEN AND INTERUPTS HER LMFAO

I LITERALLY APOLOGIZED TO LISA I WAS CRYING LAUGHING SO HARD

(no pls dont make her aware of that for me she would bully me forever)

I FELT LIKE I WAS JUST CAUSING THESE CHARACTERS PROBLEMS RIGHT OFF THE BAT LMAO

◇

And I also didnt know about boss monsters yet (i didnt watch anyone play genshin/know where or what they were lol goin in blindfolded essentially)

So im running around Mond. and I start fighting a Cryo whopperflower for a little while, im not high level yet, and deadass MID SWORD SWING-

I GLITCH THRU A TINY CRACK IN THE ROCKS BC ITS OPEN ON THE TOP RIGHT??!! SO IT WAS JUST SOLID GROUND TO ME AND IM JUST FALLING-??!!

AND THEN I LAND MY ASS THE GIANT CRYO FLOWER REGISVINE AND I STG IT LAGGED AND WAITED FOR A MINUTE BEFORE IT STARTED MOVING LIKE IT WAS CONFUSED TOO-

AND ITS LEVEL IS LIKE IN THE RED

AND THE FALL KILLED AETHER (which I also didnt know could happen 😭TRAUMA) SO I JUST SUDDENLY HAVE AMBER OUT- !!??

BRO THAT WHOLE SITUATION MADE ME THINK I HAD ANGERED THE TINY FLOWER SO BAD IT JUST BECAME HUGE-

I WAS LITERALLY SCREAMING AT MY SCREEN "AMBER FUCK RUNNNN OH GOD AETHER'S DEAD???!! "

BC I WAS LIKE LEVEL 14 VS. ITS LEVEL 36

Talk about an all-knowing creator god 😭😭

Thatd be so embarassing if they remembered that 💀 aether would literally bring it up all the time to get to me

AMBER WOULD PITY ME AND HAVE SYMPATHEY NOO

♧

Then later on in Liyue, theres a chest underneath these guard statues hidden by a bush right? And one of those Geoculus star things too, and i have my compass out trying to find all the Geoculuses(?)

And Im like, " ok towards the statue??"

THEN I JUST PLUMMET- AND I IMMEDIATELY INSTINCTIVELY LIKE, SO HEARTBROKEN AND DISTRESSED SOUNDING "nOPLEASENOTAGAIN- oh, ohhh my godd" my heart was racinggg i literally sighed and I sat there for a minute breathin heavy 😭😭

My team wouldve had a heart attack and field day with me doin shit like that, theyd be like

"This our god? This you?"

Aether has so much blackmail on me 🥲

☆

If I had a mora for everytime I fell on a boss monster in Genshin Impact, I would have 3 mora.

Which isn't a lot of mora, but it's weird that it happened three times.

Cheers,

💀♒️

(we updated the logo bc im stupid and didnt realize i couldve been typing that the whole time)

♡the beloveds♡

Srry figure it was close enough id tag yall anyway

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

[bjfinn]

HARRY'S QUEST

Disclaimer: I don't have a Shuar dictionary or grammar, so I had to make up the language spoken by the tribespeople, but I have tried to make it similar to the small sample that I've seen on YouTube. Also, fair warning: since the story is set in Ecuador, there's quite a bit of Spanish dialogue, untranslated -- Harold doesn't know what's being said, so why should you? Lol

Tw: death, murder by execution

Beej did a double take when he got to the office and saw the new arrival. The guy was a good eight or ten inches taller than the demon, and he was wearing a safari jacket and pants with the cuffs tucked into a pair of black hiking boots -- and he was carrying a hunting rifle.

But it wasn't the guy's height, or clothing, or even the firearm that took Beej by surprise -- it was the guy's head. It was tiny -- about a quarter the size it should've been. The black hair had been pulled up into a severe topknot and tied with a red cord, and the guy's lips had been sewn shut.

"Holy crap! " Beej exclaimed. "What the fuck happened to you, pal?"

The guy looked at Beej with bulging eyes -- they were normal sized and therefore too large for their sockets -- and tried to speak, but all that came out was, "Mmm! M-mmm-mmmmmm-mm-mmmmmmmmm! "

"Sorry, buddy," Beej said, clapping him on the back. "I didn't quite get that. Anyway, whatever happened it looks like a pretty shitty way to die. Tough luck, pal. Well, I can't stick around -- I gotta get up to Florida for my next job. They just executed the guy who tried to assassinate Roosevelt -- name of Zangara. I'll see you around!"

*****

Harold J. Wilson III had been in Guayaquil a week before he managed to find someone who was willing to take him into the jungle.

He'd come to South America in search of a creature that would guarantee his name would live forever -- the mapinguari. Supposedly extinct for thousands of years, but there were rumours -- based on accounts by the local Indians -- that it was still alive in the deepest part of the Amazon. And he was determined to bag one and bring it back to the Smithsonian.

"Sí, señor," the guide, a short, stocky man in his fifties named Pedro Morales, said. "I know the jungle -- but it is not a safe place for un americano, especially a rich americano like yourself."

"I've been in plenty of dangerous places," Harold told him. "Congo, in search of the mokele-mbembe, for instance."

"Did you find it, this ... mokele-mbembe?"

Harold shook his head. "Unfortunately, no," he said. "But I'm sure I'll find the mapinguari. Now, will you guide me or not?"

Pedro looked at the American. He took a deep drag on his cigar, blew out the smoke and nodded. "One hundred American dollars."

Harold pretended to consider the amount for a moment, and then he smiled and held out his hand. "You have a deal."

Pedro grinned. "Muy bien," he said. "We should leave tomorrow, at dawn. Before the heat becomes unbearable, sí?"

*****

"Lawrence!"

Beej, startled, whirled around at the sound of Juno's voice. "Hi, Mom!" he said, panicked. He hurriedly tried to hide the files he was holding behind his back. "You, uh ... you got another pickup for me?"

"What are you doing with those files?" she asked, cigarette smoke billowing from the hole in her neck. She took another drag.

"Huh? Oh, you mean these files? I, uh ... I was just curious about the new guy ... how he died, that's all."

"Oh, but sweetie," Juno said, smiling, her voice gentle, "you don't know how to read very well." Then she looked at him contemptuously. "Hand them over!"

"Sorry, Mom," he replied, chastened, and gave her the files.

"Now get back to work, and no more screwing around! "

"Yes, Mom," Beej said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

"I can't hear you! "

"Yes, Mom," he said again, louder this time.

Juno nodded. "That's better." She stuffed the files back in the drawer and limped away, the thump-slide, thump-slide of her footsteps loud in the sudden silence of the office.

Beej looked around. The others, who had no doubt been watching the exchange, quickly put their heads down to focus on their work.

Beej blinked back the tears and shuffled out of the Processing Department to his next assignment.

*****

The sun was just beginning to stretch its first rays over the rooftops when Harold was awakened by a knock on the door of his hotel room.

"Buenos dias, Señor Harold," Pedro said when the American opened the door. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Let's go," Harold replied with a nod. He grabbed his gear and followed the guide out to the waiting Jeep. He tossed his bags in the back and climbed into the passenger's seat as Pedro turned the ignition, and then they started off, down the dirt road towards the jungle.

"We will have to stop at San Ignacio and continue on foot from there," Pedro said. "No hay caminos en la selva."

Harold nodded -- he knew enough Spanish to understand what the other man had said. No roads in the jungle.

"This village -- San Ignacio -- how far is it?"

"Two hours, más o menos," came the reply. "We will stop for lunch, and then hike in."

"How will we know where to go?"

"A village elder, Tío Chako, says that he has seen the mapinguari when he was a young man," Pedro told him. "We will follow his directions." He looked at his passenger. "But that was many years ago, señor -- who can say if it will still be there?"

"I understand," Harold replied.

*****

In fact, the drive to the Otavalo village of San Ignacio took nearly three and a half hours, and by the time they reached the village the sun was already fiercely hot.

The guide stopped the Jeep in front of a small, single-storey house with whitewashed mud walls and a thatched roof. They got out of the vehicle, and Pedro knocked on the wooden door.

A moment later, it opened, and a wizened old man in a dingy tank top and baggy trousers looked out. "Hola," he said -- Harold saw that he was missing his lower front teeth. "¿Quién están ustedes?"

"Soy yo, Pedro. Y eso es Señor Harold, de los Estados Unidos."

"¿Un americano?" Tío Chako was incredulous. "¿Aquí?"

"Él quiere trover el mapinguari," Pedro explained.

Tío Chako shook his head. "¿El mapinguari? No, es demasiado peligroso -- los Jívaros ..."

"Lo sé, pero es un americano rico ... y tonto."

"Pedro, no es bueno -- irás al infierno por esto."

"¿Y él? Él quiere matar el espíritu de la selva por un trofeo." Pedro smiled. "El Santo Padre me perdonará, creo."

"What's going on?" Harold asked -- his Spanish wasn't good enough to follow the exchange between Pedro and Chako.

"We are just discussing the preliminaries, señor."

"Por favor, entran ustedes," the old man said.

"Gracias, tío," Pedro replied. To Harold he said, "Unfortunately, Tío Chako does not speak English -- I will interpret for you."

Harold looked around the abode. It appeared to have only two rooms -- the kitchen in which they were standing and another that was probably the bedroom. At the table, a woman who was almost as old as Chako sat peelig potatoes.

"Mi esposa, María," Chako said.

"¿Visitantes? ¿Por qué no me dijiste que teníamos compañía?" María asked.

"María, ¿te acuerdas de Pedro?" Chako said. "Y este es el señor Harold, un americano que está buscando al mapinguari."

María's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she caught herself and said, "Bienvenido, Pedro. Y bienvenido, Señor Harold. ¿Se quedarán a almorzar?"

"Gracias, tía," Pedro replied. "Tenemos un largo viaje por delante."

*****

After a lunch of seco -- goat stew served with rice and plantain -- Pedro and Chako looked over a map of the region, discussing the most likely places to find the elusive mapinguari.

"Yo lo ve aquí," Chako said, pointing to a spot where the Rio Negro looped around like a noose. "Pero no sé si eras allá esos días."

"Lo entiendo," Pedro replied. "¿Y los Jívaros? ¿Donde es su territorio?"

"Casi todo el este es el territorio de ellos." He looked at Pedro. "Rezaré a San Cristóbal para que todos regresen sanos y salvos."

*****

"You know," Beej said, "I don't think I've ever seen anyone else who had their head shrunk before -- how'd it happen?"

The guy looked at the demon with his bulging eyes and drew a thumb across his throat.

"Yeah," Beej said with a nod. "That makes sense -- I mean, it'd be kinda difficult to shrink just your head if it was still attached, right?" He elbowed the guy in the ribs. "But how come it's attached now? I've seen others who've lost their heads, and they're always carrying them, you know?"

"M-mmmm-mmmm," came the response.

"Yeah, of course you don't know. Anyway, I'm wondering how they did it -- shrunk your head, I mean. But I guess you don't know that, either -- you were already dead."

The guy nodded.

Just then the door to Juno's office opened. Beej leapt to his feet. "Well, nice talkin' to you, pal -- see you!" And he scurried away before his mother could see him.

*****

It was an thirteen day trek through the jungle to get to the area where Tío Chako said that he had seen the creature. Harold had long since run out of citronella oil, and he was covered in mosquito bites, but that wasn't the worst of it -- every night was spent pulling leeches, ticks and other bloodsuckers off his exposed skin. He would've liked to bathe more often in one of the rivers, but he didn't dare -- the waters were home to flesh-eating piranhas, as well as anacondas and caimans. And other, more fearsome things.

"Candiru," Pedro told him. "It is a tiny, tiny fish that smells the piss and swims up your ..." He motioned to his crotch. "¿Entiende?"

Harold nodded grimly.

*****

At long last, Pedro set down his pack and said, "Es el lugar."

Harold looked around. It seemed exactly the same as the rest of the jungle -- trees and plants growing in riotous profusion in the eternal twilight, the silence occasionally punctured by the squawk of a bird or the screech of a monkey, or the sound of something larger making its way through the undergrowth. It felt like he and Pedro were the only two people in the entire world -- Harold would have been unsettled if he weren't so drenched and weary.

They set up camp as they had every night for the past two weeks, and Pedro built a fire with sticks that he gathered, smearing them with pitch from a rubber tree -- the smell of broiling latex was terrible, but it allowed the damp wood to burn.

Sunset comes quickly in the depths of the jungle. They had just finished their supper -- boiled mote corn and ch'arqui made from llama meat -- when it arrived and they were plunged into darkness. As always, the jungle came alive then with the sounds of nocturnal wildlife.

"You should sleep, señor" Pedro said. "I will take first watch."

Harold nodded and gladly slipped into the tent. He lifted the mosquito netting strung over his hammock and settled in.

He'd just drifted off when Pedro shook him roughly. "Señor," the guide whispered urgently. "Señor, wake up! I think I hear the mapinguari!"

Harold sat up, instantly awake, and rolled out of the hammock. "Where?" he asked. "Are you sure?"

"I can smell it -- can you not?"

Harold sniffed the air -- a rancid odour, like that of soured compost, filled his nostrils. "Let's go," he said, grabbing his rifle.

The two men exited the tent and headed in the direction of the odour, training their flashlights on the ground in front of them.

A few minutes later they heard a deep snuffling sound. They raised their flashlight beams ...

The mapinguari was scratching itself against an acacia. Harold gasped as it turned its head to look at them -- the beast had to be eight feet tall, with long, shaggy, reddish-brown fur. The three claws on each of its front paws were massive, easily capable of shredding a tree. The beast had tiny eyes and ears, and a flexible muzzle that reminded Harold of a tapir's. He caught a glimpse of the massive tail trailing on the ground behind it -- thickly muscled, like that of a kangaroo.

"I knew it!" Harold crowed. "It's a giant ground sloth!"

The creature made a low, rumbling noise that sounded for all the world like it was saying huuuhhhh?

"I've got you now!" Harold crowed as he raised his rifle and took aim. He pulled the trigger, and the sound of the weapon instantly caused a pandemonium of noise in the jungle as bird, bats, monkeys panicked and took flight. The mapinguari bellowed in pain as the bullet ripped into its flesh, and it turned toward the two men, its powerful forearms raised threateningly.

It lunged at them, roaring in confused fury. Pedro screamed and fled. Harold readied himself to take another shot, but the huge beast was too close. He dropped the rifle and ran, stumbling over tree roots, desperate to avoid those massive claws.

The beast was gaining on him -- he could practically feel its hot breath on the back of his neck. "Shit shit shit shit shit! " he wheezed.

He took a tumble then, rolling down a short embankment into the river. "SHIT! " he yelled, and scrambled back onto the bank before something in the water got him.

He trained the beam of his flashlight upwards, grateful that he'd managed to hold onto it.

The mapinguari was looming over him, looking down at Harold. Its tiny eyes looked ... almost sad. Harold felt a twinge of regret for having caused it pain.

"I-I'm sorry," he said softly. And bowed his head, ready to accept whatever punishment the beast -- this jungle god -- saw fit to mete out.

But then he heard voices -- human voices shouting in a language he didn't recognise. The mapinguari heard them, too, and it calmly settled back down on all fours, turned and ambled off into the jungle.

"Hey!" Harold called. "Hey! Over here!"

Within seconds he was surrounded by a dozen or so spear-carrying warriors, wearing feather headbands, beaded bandoliers and red face paint.

"Wiñámishi jṵna kimiijusiai!" one of the warriors shouted. "Jikanyi ústa kanimuistaiyi! Uukanta!"

"I'm .. I'm sorry," Harold said. "I don't understand --"

"Uukanta!" the warrior shouted again. "Uukanta!"

Three of their number hauled Harold to his feet, and they bound him, tying his hands together behind his back and fixing a noose around his neck.

"Iijintaiyi nan chanwaarka ujaantaiyi na! "

And they led him through the jungle.

*****

Beej couldn't get the shrunken-head guy out of his mind. Or more accurately, he couldn't get the question of how breathers could shrink somebody's head out of his mind. He could do it easily, of course -- but he was a demon.

He decided to go back in time to see for himself -- after all, the information could prove useful someday.

He looked around to make sure that no one was watching, and then he snapped his fingers.

Instantly he found himself in a village in the middle of the Amazon jungle. Fortunately, since he was invisible, his arrival went unnoticed by the inhabitants. But he didn't think they would've noticed him anyway -- there seemed to be some kind of celebration going on.

A crowd of people were circling a large bonfire, singing and shuffling to the beat of drums as the thin, high notes of a couple of flutes threaded through the air. He could smell roasting meat and vegetables, and his stomach grumbled.

"Looks like fun," he said to himself, and moved closer.

Off to the side he saw someone tied to a post -- he recognised him as his new buddy, the shrunken-head guy. Same clothes.

He continued to watch, glad that he'd arrived at the right place and time.

Beej didn't even think of intervening on the guy's behalf -- what the fuck did he care about saving a breather? Eventually every one of them died anyway.

At last the drumming and dancing ended -- just as the first rays of the sun began to paint the treetops with golden light.

The prisoner was cut down, and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

He was lifted up by several warriors and laid out spread eagle on a stone slab, his wrists and ankles tied to wooden posts. Then one of the warriors, strode up, a machete in his right hand. He raised the weapon high, and bellowed, "UKAIYIII!!!"

"AAAIYIIII!!!" the others shouted in response.

The warrior brought the wicked-looking blade down and severed the prisoner's head with one blow, and the women of the tribe began ululating in applause.

The executioner reached down and picked up the head by the hair, holding it aloft for all to see.

Beej was impressed -- it took some skill to sever a head with a single blow, even with a machete. Clearly this wasn't the warrior's first time.

The warrior gently handed the head to another man -- this guy was older, with grey hair. They exchanged a few words -- Beej heard them say muisak several times, and tsantsa. Two words he'd heard before. They meant "soul" and "shrunken head" in the Shuar language.

He nodded to himself.

Beej had heard of the Shuar, or Jívaro. Fearsome headhunters, they were famous for shrinking the heads of their enemies -- he didn't know if there were any other tribes that did that, though. Always wondered how they shrink the heads -- looks like today's the day I get to find out!

He followed the shaman into one of the thatched huts -- a large pot of water simmered over a fire in the middle of the room. The shaman picked up a knife with a blade of chipped flint, sat cross-legged on the floor beside the fire, and set to work, chanting as he did.

Beej squatted down beside him, still invisible, as he sliced into the back of the head, cutting the flesh from neck to crown, and carefully removed the flesh from the skull in a single piece. When he was done, he sewed the eyelids shut and forced three sharpened pegs through both lips.

The old man then took a baseball-sized sphere carved from wood and placed it inside the skin, and dropped it into the boiling water. He continued chanting, shaking a rattle made of shiny black seeds, as the de-boned head cooked.

This was going to take a while, Beej knew, so he headed outside to see what the tribe was going to do with the body. He was disappointed to see that they were burying it, rather than cooking and eating it. What a waste, he sighed. Ah, well -- can't have everything.

*****

A few hours later the shaman removed the head from the pot -- Beej was surprised to see that it had shrunk to about a third of its original size, and the skin was dark and rubbery.

The old man carefully turned the head inside out and began scraping the flesh and fat from the skin. Once it was completely clean he turned it rightside out again and sewed up the slit in the rear.

"Okaaay," Beej muttered.

With wooden tongs, the old man took several small rocks out of the fire and dropped them into the neck opening, followed by a few ladles of hot sand from the smaller pot.

"Why are you doing that?" Beej asked, knowing that the shaman couldn't hear him.

He watched, amazed, as the head shrank further, the skin contracting from the heat.

The shaman emptied the head and refilled it with more sand and rocks, holding more hot rocks against the outside to shape the features. This process was repeated several times, until at last the head was the size of a fist.

"Wow!" Beej exclaimed. "That's so fuckin' cool! "

Now that the head was fully shrunk, the shaman rubbed the skin all over with charcoal ash, and then he hung it over the fire to dry.

Finally, the shaman removed the pegs from the lips and sewed them shut with cotton string, making long, decorative tassels, and presented it to the warrior who'd made the kill.

Beej, grinning, took that as his cue to head back to the Netherworld.

*****

"I gotta tell you," he said to the shrunken-head guy, "it was fuckin' amazing! You shoulda been there! Uh, well ... I guess you kinda were, weren't you? Anyway, I'll tell you all about it sometime -- maybe we can grab lunch. Oh -- uh, right. Never mind."

"Lawrence! " Juno bellowed from her office. "Get in here right NOW! "

"Be right there, Mom!" he called back. "Anyway, I gotta go. See you soon, buddy!"

[broodygaming]

thinkin about Subnautica and the first time I played it... hahaha, I went in almost completely blind (I'd watched a tiny bit of a YTer play it and loads of ppl were saying, if you like the look of this and wanna play it don't spoil yourself, just go do it rn! so I did, lol).

I LOVE the ocean, first off. I don't think I'd ever be capable of diving? But I love the idea of it and it does not scare me in the slightest. I had ZERO idea the game is considered scary by most people. Absolutely NO idea haha. Even when I saw my first Leviathan/Reaper, I was just kinda like, oh yeah of course there's big predators, better steer clear! Nbd, if I die the consequences aren't too bad so eh. Like they definitely jump scared me a few times, but nothing crazy.

But really what sticks out to me in hindsight... this is SO stupid... it took me forEVER to figure out that I needed to scan stuff to get blueprints.

i fucking SWAM ALL THE WAY TO THE FIRST ISLAND. Or the first island I went to, the north/northwest one. I didn't even question it. I was like, oh yeah it's an exploration they want you take your time. I thought I was being a jerk, skipping all the way to the first big new thing "so quickly". About three quarters of the way back to the pod I was like "Okay, I feel like I've progressed more story, let's check in on that YTer and see what they're doing" to see him riding around with the seaglider!! I was like WTF!!!!

My mistake was SO dumb it was hard to even find like, an explanation of what I was doing wrong. Like, everything I googled said how to find the scannable items, not that you even HAD to scan them or with WHAT. Like telling someone how to make sauce and they don't know how to turn on the stovetop. SO SO silly.

Anyways. What a game.

ALSO. wait sorry this is so long

I NEVER FOUND A SECOND BEACON TO SCAN.

Let me run that by you again. I played the ENTIRE game without beacons. I could probably actually navigate almost the entire map without thinking much irl at this point. I just had to like... use "land" marks and be patient. I had to know where I was at on the map (which I finally started looking up to be able to find the paths to the lower chambers way later in the game) (but before then I just used the Aurora, the cloud glitches around the island and my brain) and triangulate my fucking position like a sailor and be like, okay if I'm here and wanna go here I gotta head in a SWS direction" hahaha.

Anyways. Wonderful game. One of the few games I sincerely wish I could erase my memory of and play blind again. I'm usually not the type to wish that, I'm love replaying stuff. But this was so so special on that first run.

[thegeminisage]

ok im playing more zelda!! i feel awful this is literally all i can do rn

you know i miss the match over bell from botw. it was so good

FAIRIES IN THIS CAVE...thank god

i fucking hate this place btw. rauru's settlement or whatever. i hate bottomless bogs

i guess in regards to gameplay it's not that different than lava - more forgiving, even! lava kills you instantly and sometimes you can fight your way out of a bog! - but it FEELS worse. it's uglier for one thing

i'm really close to the lost woods so i'm gonna see if i can navigate it without a torch! since i can see the wind blowing. i have so many korok seeds to trade in lol

took me one false start but i made it! i just had to walk veeery slowly lol

MAXED OUT my weapon storage already. damn.

going to check out a tiny chasm i've been eyeballing forever. i deserve a break

i used to feel so nervous being this close to hyrule castle in botw...the hills between it and the lost woods...it's not as bad in totk although i am still hugging the water. i don't want the music to play lol

fucking korok seed i was supposed to get by starting a fire and using a pinecone to go straight up. it was raining. i had to make the most convoluted structure out of dead trees it took FOREVERRR

how exciting!! after awhile away from the depths i land right on top of a yiga camp AND i can see an easy lightroot from here. a gentle reintroduction

ooh, this book talks about lights that appear and then vanish....that's fucking spooky. i hope they dont mean hands lol

ive been wanting to try "hoverbikes" that ive heard about and theres some fans here, so

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OH THIS IS THE MOST FUN IVE EVER HAD. WOW

ok my bike died but for a test run that was NOT bad

this area is all explored except this one dark spot that i've just now lit up...i'll grab a few poes and go somewhere else

i'm gonna go to goron city and buy my stupid fire helmet. i swear if i don't kill that gleeok on lake hylia i'll die

oh! i found the goron brothers house! kabetta's diary...

uh oh, it's his marbled rock roast descent

ooh, i found the sidequest to get a boulder breaker!!

where tf do i get a cobble crusher these days i wonder...

god i forgot how fun minecarts are. i saw one of the oldstyle ones on my way by...

kilton's balloon! or um. whoever he is lol <3 i have TOOOONS of gems to trade

it's not the same here without the lava, but at least there's lava in the caves...

these mine cart tracks were RIDICLOUS. i got SO STUCK lol

i see dinraAl but im too close to the ground 😭

OOOOHHHHH maybe i can use a hoverbike.....i gotta finish this fight first lol

GOT A COBBLE CRUSHER.....oh man i almost LEFT these guys to go chase dinraal!!!

ok ok gotta hurry

so, this bike doesn't control as well as i';'d like...maybe i need practice...and of course i wish it was faster...but it's still REALLY cool

my battery keeps dying/my bike keeps falling :( i give up

ugh i have so much anxiety about dragon parts.

VAH RUDANIA HELM??????? HELLOOOOOO

oh my god...i didnt even have this in botw, i dont have the amiibo card....................

aw i found some monster forces guys. of COURSE im gonna help them

OH we still get the bell after monster forces battles...good

NO FUCK AND THEY JUST LEFT. AND THERE'S ABOUT TO BE A BLOOD MOON LOL

i didnt get all my loot yet!! no one to help me when they come back!! im gonna die!!!

im not leaving w/o my Loot. i'll just have to do it on my own. thank god i have muddlebuds

GEEZ i did it. double loot

i can see the edge of the map! that sort of thing always did fascinate me...some of the textures are warped here lol that's creepy

ok, i looked it up and apparently i made my hoverbike wrong. im gonna try again w proper instruction!!

ok, new bike got me up to the top of gut check rock...it still has too much forward momentum for me, but i've seen a couple of different designs i wanna experiment with when i have more fans (currently only have 2 left in inventory)

i miss the goron blood brothers :( i mean it's so depressing that there's nothing up here but a korok seed...

ANOTHER EVENTIDE SHRINE. FUCK ME SIDEWAYS i hate this bs!!!

ok fine that wasnt that bad. STILL

bike is LOTS harder to control with a korok on the back. i like of like the counterweight though to help with too much momentum...

the bike lists to one side! i definitely just need to improve my fan placement

woke up the horse god. JUST as unsettling as i remember.

omg the yiga hideouts REFILL after long enough. rip!

decided to fight the pirates while i was here. "monster forces"...hope i'm not supposed to be teaming up with anyone for this lol

i accidentally hit my bike during combat and it went over the side of the boat 😭 i can make another and i was gonna fast travel after this anyway but STILL......

AUGH it's dinraal again and once again i can't chase her...i know how to do the bike now but i don't have it and also i'm busy!!!!! ugh

248 korok seeds!! officially time for bed - when i started today i was somewhere in the mid 100s lol

i thought i wouldn't play enough tonight to need to make multiple posts but i guess i should have broken this one up, huh? whoops!

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

I DID IT I DESIGNED CHARACTERS!!!!!! SPECIFICALLY JEKYLL AND HYDE CHARACRERS!!!!!!!! EVERYBODY LOOK I DID IT!!!!!!!!

And now, for my thought process~

Dr Henry Jekyll: Man's is built like a fuckin TANK bro. Idk why everybody draws him as a twink he's CLEARLY meant to be MASSIVE(/pos). Anyways, as you've probably noticed, I leaned HEAVILY into the color coding for this one. I chose red for Jekyll mostly- uh, mostly just because I already associated Hyde with green and I wanted them to be complimentary colors? But also he has red character vibes in the musical to me. Probably because the poster is very red. I gave him tiny glasses cuz I thought it looked cool lol. I uh, I don't really know why he's the only character with visible pockets? I guess I just thought it looked best on his design or something. He was originally gonna have a ponytail but I thought it made him look to much like he was from the American Revolution so I changed it to the shorter, poofier style shown in the picture. Also his vest was originally brown but I decided I wanted more red in his design so I changed it.

Gabriel John Utterson: SQUARE. SQUARE SHAPED MAN. He's repeatedly described as like the most boring man alive so I decided to reflect that in his design by making him really rigid and almost statue-like. Hence all the grays. I wanted to add a dash of color though, so I gave him a blue tie(also the strappy thingy around his hat is blue but that isn't visible here). He's also super pale to go with the cold/stoney vibe of the rest of his color scheme.

Dr Hastie Lanyon: God this one took me FOREVER to figure out omfg. I didn't have a very good idea of what he looked like while reading the novel and until I started actually searching for them I didn't see very many fan designs for him. All I knew is I wanted him to wear yellow bcuz primary color trios RULE. But theeeeeen I started looking up other peoples designs, and picked out a couple of contants I liked (ex; short, dark skin, gray streaks), then boom! I knew what I wanted to do! Anyways yeah, once I had an idea I just went for it and uh, I dont have much else to say :)

Edit: WAIT SHIT I FORGOT LANYON HAS LIKE A MASSIVE WHITE STREAK IN HIS HAIR OMFG-

Edit 2 Electric Boogaloo: Okay so my Lanyon design was driving me SO crazy I felt the need to update the ref, so now he's a little taller and has the afformentioned white streak aornfoemdk

Edward Hyde: Fun fact, Hyde was originally going to be 4'6, but I just kept making him shorter and shorter until he lost the 6 inches entirely lol. The only description we got of Hyde in the book was that he was small, hairy and had an "unexpressed deformity", so I guess I just took that to mean he is a Creature and ran with it lmao. I made him SUPER pointy, just the sharpest man. Mostly to contrast with the round shapes of Jekyll, but also he's kinda just that kinda dude, y'know? I also made sure his silhouette was super uneven, in contrast to all of the classy characters have(mostly) symmetrical silhouettes. OBVIOUSLY he needed to have a cloak and top hat, because really, what Hyde design is complete without a cloak and top hat? There are 3 reasons I decided to make his color green: 1; the potion Jekyll uses to become Hyde is green. 2; Green, at least in my mind, means sick, and Hyde is supposed to look sickly and unpleasant. And 3; The Ghost of Mr Hyde from Scooby Doo is green and he was the first version of the character I ever saw, so I've kinda just associated him with it ever since. Speaking of the Ghost of Mr Hyde, the mud on his shoes is actually an homage to that episode! I tried to get the color as close to the weird, off redish the mud on Dr Jekyll's shoes was in that episode. Why? Because Scooby Doo my beloved <3. Also since this section is already so fucking long, the reason he has that silver tooth is because the original got knocked out in a fight. In this version, Hyde's injuries do NOT carry over to Jekyll, and vice versa, so he needs to take out the tooth before he transforms back and put it back in when he's Hyde again. Idk why I put the most thought into Hyde's design but whatever-

So yeah! Those are my designs and the thoughts behind them! Hope yall like em :)

[missyourflight]

we're doing this again! here are some of the things i read/watched in feb:

dopesick: not sure how i feel about the mix of real/created characters! a lot of the sackler stuff i was familiar with from empire of pain (more on patrick radden keefe later) (relatedly i'm so eager for the nan goldin doc to be streaming over here), some great performances, also doesn't disney have money for better wigs?

happy valley (s3): as a nation we don't deserve sarah lancashire. magnificent television!! good thing f1 is coming back so i can continue to experience tension on sundays etc

lovecraft country: i got myself into a whole jonathan majors situation just in time for creed iii and this was Wild. i wasn't always in love with it but it took some massive swings and honestly reminded me a tiny bit of doctor who just in like the genre-of-the-week approach. also wunmi mosaku, my beloved

justified (s3): as ever this should just be the boyd/raylan show. jfc but raylan is bad at his job. i'm torn re: the progressively more deranged gay antagonist bc he was kind of fun but also whew @ some of those backstory elements

full swing: golf to survive! i didn't know any of these men apart from rory mcilroy! bit of a mixed bag but i loved joel dahmen and his caddy and also matt fitzpatrick, tiny stats nerd from sheffield. lol forever @ zak and lando's golf friend defecting to the sketchy saudi tour etc, like fucking obviously

the green ray: woof a bit close to home! aching for connection, crying on holiday... rohmer girl summer forever in my heart

scream 4: just fine until it goes gleefully Bonkers in the last act

scream 5: last act not as much fun as scream 4, jack quaid is charming, weirdly i found some of the stabbings like off-puttingly intense?

great freedom: this was wonderful and i cried. almost shockingly tender at times and just like, we have always been here? franz rogowski is remarkable and i can't wait to see him in passages (ben whishaw basically doing the andrew scott role from cock 14 years on?? i mean)

devotion: see above re: ongoing jonathan majors situation, thought he was beautiful in this, loved the partnership w glen powell. there's a part that's like you think is going to play out like top gun maverick and then it doesn't because it's based on a true story (why is joe jonas here)

magic mike's last dance: obviously doesn't approach the heights of xxl but channing is still so fucking charming (why is she's the man not streaming anywhere here. i need it). i saw it with some friends and one of them was sad afterwards bc her husband never dances with her - not to be like are straight people okay, but are you?

creed: i am not well versed in the rockyverse lore but i Need to see creed iii due to the jonathan majors situation and i really liked this! mbj charming, i do not care for boxing as a sport but ryan coogler can really move a camera, also pleasantly surprised by the liverpool of it all??

creed ii: this was fine! the fighting didn't have anywhere near the impact of the first one bc this director is not as talented as ryan coogler

patrick radden keefe, rogues: really enjoying this collection of some of his new yorker profiles. listening on audio and i feel like it's kind of rare for a non-fiction author to read their own work this well? also this month i listened to his wind of change podcast (was not prepared for the tommy vietor cameo lol) which was a lot of fun but took a lot of time to not really answer the question

[beatsboy]

7.29.24 / day 36 of romanticizing my life until i love myself again

doing my best to be a delusional artist today, yet only spent just over 2 hours producing it is in the ritual i create by sitting down every day at this desk, opening up ableton, and making love to this machine in the language of music there is something so methodical, and also somewhat erotic about respecting your equipment, the machinery that grants you entry to an entire world of creativity. before, when i was a songwriter, i was afraid of daws, even garage band. i was most comfortable behind a piano. that meant, however, that the only sounds i could make came from my keyboard or my throat. i think this is why it was so hard to contemplate going on t and losing my angelic, beautiful voice, because it was all i had to express myself now, with the help of this machine, i can express an entire symphony, something beethoven could only do in his head, with my fingertips my voice is only a fraction of it

as i cleaned my apartment today, i thought of myself as preparing my station for later, spending an hour deep cleaning my mechanical keyboard, for she has carried me through this journey and is as much a part of me as my nord keyboard, my laptop, or my favorite ring, and there was something so intimate in using my tiny desktop vacuum to clean out the spaces between the keys, pulling them all out to expose all the weed, ash, dust, and dog hair that’s been trapped beneath her keys, as if to say: i respect what you do, i see what you endure, and i want you forever, not just right now, so i will take care of you now, not later

perhaps i’ve been spending too long holed up in my apartment that i’m finally romanticizing my mechanical keyboard (i’m not even a gamer, but i love the feeling of the keys under my fingers, and now that i live alone, i love that i don’t have to worry about bothering anyone with the sound of them clacking because i fucking love it)

i saw a kitten on the sidewalk on my walk with pea today, and everything in me wanted to snatch it up and take it home, likely deflea it, and call a rescue that’s what i would have done in the past i know now, that the kittens are best off with their mothers and you’re supposed to wait to see if their mothers are around, and i tried but pea scared the kitten off, and it hid after i took the photo from a distance

i made a really long list of everything i have to do i don’t want to live my life like a to do list but i don’t want to live my life like cx, always running from one avoided task to the other i want to be afloat i want to not be chasing

i need to work, i’m short on rent and it’s due in 2 days (lol) i’ll figure it out, i always do

[donttakeitsopersonal]

Seeing internet drama like… match up or I suppose mirror the subplot of a webcomic I’m reading is so so fascinating. I mean it’s like drama that we’ve seen a bazillion times if you’ve spent enough time in the right circles but idk seeing it playing out too with real people got me thinking again.

Waffles under cut

Ima keep it vague even tho im an absolute nobody, knowing my luck, this will breach containment and then my unorthodox new ways of thinking will ruffle feathers haha but yeah.

Essentially the comic is about the aftermath of a murder and how people are living their lives after that. One of the accomplices is free and living their life and they’re also online. People find out and bully them, someone even suggested deleting their accounts and going offline for a while, but they don’t want to. One thing that is brought up with it is everyone keeps telling them they got to take accountability, which is true. But that’s got me asking well what does that look like? Like it can really look a lot of different ways but watching irl drama play out it makes me wonder if anything will ever be good enough for people. Like I’ve even seen this same scenario play out many times and there’s usually always a vocal group who just want the guilty party to be forever guilty. Is it good enough for them to take accountability, apologize, and rectify their behavior? (I’m talking low stakes drama here not like heinous abuse lol) it just really feels like if you ever make a tiny misstep online that’s your cross to bear forever. I feel like it’s very reductive and doesn’t allow the person to grow and change, which, isn’t that what we want? For people to grow and change and better themselves? Like idk man at this point in time if you can’t show me examples of someone doing XYZ shitty thing within the last year, like yknow something recent, I really couldn’t give a flying sideways fuck. If someone said “hey I did XYZ at this time and that was fucked and shitty and I’ve worked to change myself” and they haven’t done XYZ and did work to change themself, then idk man you sound incredibly immature and like you gotta mind your own business. Like it’s perfectly fine to be like “I don’t like this person they’re icky to me” that’s fucking fine you don’t need a good reason to not like people they can just give you general ick, water and oil don’t mix and you won’t like everyone you meet. You don’t have to be a bully tho 🙄🙄

OMG lemme waffle about other silly drama I saw that’s just like oh myfuckingod you do not need to and also hey wait a minute. So this one car influencer who is a very mean girl that’s also mean to other women while trying to present as a ✨Girl’s Girl✨™️ has had this, I shit yall not, YEARS beef with this other gal. So two face (that’s what ima call her lol) years ago, like BC(before covid) times TF was doing modeling and mechanic work, wow femme model on car soooo original /s 🙃so at this point in time she was actually a ✨Girl’s Girl✨™️, or at least pretended like it well enough lol, and was friends with some other blue collar girlies. She said she’d help them start their own OFs if they wanted and one took her up on that offer. Idk what happened exactly but TF started accusing said girl that she was copying her and taking her business. And like this was all so funny to me because like this just gave me DeviantArt sparkledog furry drama circa. 2007, like legit “yOu CaNt PaInT yOuR cAr PuRpLe!!11 YoU cOpIeD!!!!2!11!” Like bro this is straight up “you copied my design because you also have stripes on your tail” like day one internet shit, get with it girl. But also this is funny too because I seen her at that time basically copy someone else’s video like cmon. So anyways that basically made their friendship implode on itself and she has since then had a vengeance on this poor girl lol so here’s the nutty part, TF will constantly say “this girl is always copying everything I do, I saw her doing XYZ” which like is kinda inconspicuous when you hear it but then it’s like wait, you say you do not like this person, you try and avoid them, so on and w/e so it’s like wait,,, HOW do you know that??🤨unless you’re checking out her page and following what she does 👀 sussy. And like the other gal she’s cool and nice, we’ll call her GG, but I NEVER see her saying SHIT about TF unless TF did something like get her page flagged or something, which I feel is normal. And like mind yall this has been going on for over the span of years. So being an outside spectator to this all I seriously think TF is projecting onto GG, at least with the “oooh you stalking my page waaah” like girl idk you the only one posting videos about someone else 👀and also I feel like TF feels like I wanna say attacked but not really, maybe more like GG makes TF feel inadequate? But like I feel like seeing GG’s journey it’s what TF have strived for, like GG was a dealer mechanic, and now has her own shop with her mans and their friend. Like TF has only ever worked at like quick lube places and I think very very briefly at a custom shop or something. Like a month or less. And while I can say TF can perform the work, she is not what I would consider a high level mechanic. Like you just realistically have not seen that many cars, you’re not going to see the normal stuff that comes into places you’re not going to have that experience. Yeah working on your own stuff gives you skills a dealer or shop won’t but there’s far more you’ll learn in a shop, and I feel like deep down she knows that and feels threatened by it. Cause like girl why the hell else would you be paying so close attention to this game that you’d clown on her miscarrying like brruuuuuhhhhh you did not have tooooooooo 🥴🥴🥴that VIDEO could’ve stayed in the drafts😶 the fact she made a video too is big YIKES. But wow yeah it’s nutty asf, reality is stranger than fiction

[benefits1986]

JOMO & Freedive

The only time you’ll see how precious the breath is comes when you’re down to your last one.  Trigger warning: Just in case you’re in the multiverse of suicide or have someone who’s battling it, this may be one curious read. Maybe, just, maybe.  2012. The year mother dragon left me after 8 years of trying to cheat death together. It was also the year when I got accepted in my masters in my dream school which took forever. More so, I also got my first dibs in photography; however, I found myself in a really hopeless state and while I’ve been looking totally fine and unbothered outside, my insides are rotting in pain, in anger, in confusion.  My salvation to hopefully end things in a poetic way? Solo adventure travels. Since her last night on earth coincided with my 26th birthday, I always go out of Manila to escape the messy brain and fucked up spirit --all that was left of me when I thought I can friggin’ slay it all and slay them all. This spiral was not something I saw coming since I always get a thing I focus on how I want it, when I want it and where I want it.  Losing mom didn’t just feel as though I was thrown under a train. Every birthday was a reminder of how much I failed her, and failed me, too. I thought we’d make it but all the while, I was building a fortress laced in fantasy to mask the harsh realities that are obviously bound to happen anyway, any time.  Even when I knew I was cheating death with mom, even if we’ve been giving 10 years max, deep inside, I wanted more time, more years, more memories and more stories with her. I simply wanted to live a normal life as a 20-something then; but, the truth is that I didn’t bother giving a fuck about was that our timeline is a weird one as it is bound by mom being a case study while I try to manage every tiny bit of detail I can control. Defying statistics even when it’s really impossible was my drug. 

Eventually, mom’s body started shutting down. Me? Not shutting up as I convinced her to give things one more try. Looking back, she was not afraid of dying. Truth is, I was so afraid of losing her. She has been my rock in whatever season but that rock was shaken and is no longer solid. I didn’t budge. I can’t be moved, or at least, I thought so.  Losing mom is a tabula rasa, supposedly one that could have been full of new beginnings, of new hope filled with an avalanche of blessings.  Moving this tabula rasa, though is where I slipped, fell and spiraled.  I felt that all the new beginnings I’ve been handed are but shabby consolation prizes. I still kept her SMS where she told me how proud she is that two of my bucket lists are coming back to back in 2012. I questioned why can’t I have it all for once in my life? I have two hands, both are able and willing, but it seemed like my two hands were not enough to catch mom with my right and my dreams with my left. Was that too much to ask? Was it? 

The thing about mid-20s is that usually, people feel they’ve reached the pinnacle of adulthood. LOL. Blame it on crappy media that makes people see that 30s is the be-all, end-all game. Mid-20s is a social construct where people scramble to “living their lives like they’re golden” era. Marriage, career, starting a family, building a dream home, cars, travels... you name it. Truth is, your mid-20s is where you’re likely to make off the roof mistakes, learn from them and eventually, bring the lessons to your 30s and 40s. I actually looked past all these social constructs because my game, my only one, is mother dragon. I wanted to let her see how my 30-something self will look and feel like. 

Hitting the big 3-0 with a bang is but a dream, a media monopoly dream with consumerism at its core. Can’t believe I’m able to say this, but I feel fine at 37. Not as young but not too old. And that, I’ve already been able to inch my way to stop comparing ME to ME. I realized that I’ve not been only been comparing my timeline to other people’s timeline. The worst bit? I compare myself to my vision of myself that wasn’t tested by time and tribulations. While I get validation and affirmation, my measuring stick does not match my realities. When I fail, I triple down on punishing myself when no one is watching via really bad self-talk. I thought that zooming in only on my darkest shadows and not appreciating the lovely ambient lights that go with is the best way to keep me aligned, to keep me grounded. Later, I found myself five feet under the ground, almost pointless, almost non-existent, deep down.  So, where does FOMO and freedive enter the frame?  A while ago, dad and I watched a Coron EP,  a random view that brought back Coron in 2018. It was where dad and I started to patch up of dynamics and jumpstarted our connection. Since dad is my YES man, he just shrugged his shoulders when I egged our tour guide to show me how to freedive. I reasoned out that since I love to swim and that the water is so still, giving freediving a go in the beautiful Barracuda Lake is a must try. The thing is I didn’t have any freediving lessons. Dad was on his toes but I assured him that since our guide is also a lifeguard, if all else fails, he’d rescue me. I was also able to use two things why I’d swing this. First, dad taught me how to swim by literally making me do cliff dives since I was in 5 complete with river rapids. By 6 or 7, I can happily jump off bigger cliffs even if those jumps resulted to bruises and cuts. Second, I’ve been a water baby since 9 months. LOL. Also, was able to take swimming lessons since Grade 3 until Grade 6.  After a stick of cig, the tour guide and I started with the basics. Task one was to hang onto to the poles under the walkway. It’s to test if I can go deep in the water without panicking. As I went down, my heart leaped as I was greeted by an awesome shade of “clear” blue and rock formations that are so otherworldly. A few more practices later, the tour guide said that it’s time to give my first freedive a shot. He handed me the googles but I didn’t go with flippers. He was taken aback but agreed. He told me again that I just have one breath to manage and that I should not go too deep as it was my first time.  He pushed me into the clear blue still water and I was able to swim deep, then deeper and deeper. I looked around and saw my tour guide and dad from above watching me. I got a little deeper still as I felt like on top of this lake’s universe. Funny, I know; but that’s how I felt, really. I had this lake all to myself, too.  Then I stopped. Looked up and realized that I must have gotten too deeply. I tried to stay calm and focused even when my heart is pounding with excitement and fear. I wanted to stay here, but I am running out of breath. 

Right there at the bottom of the lake, I was faced with yet another “solo adventure travel” chance to end it all. Poetic. Check. One for the books. Check. Convenient and fast. Check. I closed my eyes and felt mother dragon’s warmth as though she was saying that one breath is all I have, and one breath is all it takes. Must be watching Harry Potter x Game of Thrones x Black Mirror way too much, hence this particular scene.  I opened my eye and looked up. Dad is waiting for me and it brought me back to the time when I jumped from a cliff a little too high and was too distracted because my cuts and bruises roared louder than usual. I had to go back. I wanted to go back. I may be running out of breath, but I am still breathing; only more alive, this time around.  Anxiety built up because I’ve gotten too deep, indeed. My breath was running out faster than I thought. One of the best lessons I got real quick from the tour guide was that I need not worry because the water here is a mix of salty and fresh. I just had to keep still and eventually, I will float up the surface. I stopped dead for a moment to manage my anxiety. When I felt the stillness of the clear blue water once more, I the flow to take over.  My head popped out of Barracuda Lake and I live to tell this tiny tale.  

My GoPro died so this core memory was not captured; but, hey, the best memories are those that don’t usually have snaps, right? Memories like this one feel more alive when you try to freeze them in your head and spirit. And here is where JOMO comes in.  JOMO means JOY OF MISSING OUT. Been floating the past years but still not getting enough traction, though I believe it’s its way. Live for stories that makes you more alive and allows you to take every single breath of take with full intention. It’s a  small “we’re all but one breath”world, after all.  How does JOMO look like?  It’s when you choose to stay still even when the world is shaking about non-essentials.  It’s picking your fights because it’s better to be loving than to be right.  It’s when you look at the mirror and decide to be kinder to yourself.  It’s when you stop looking at The Feed to stop feeding The Greed.  It’s when you give more thanks, rather than asking for more.  It’s when you find sheer joy in “LET IT BE” instead of being too immersed in  A HARD DAY’S NIGHT, yet again.  JOMO be with you! 

[brett-is-afraid]

Heaven must Be Missing An Angel

Ship: Ted x Cooper

Rating: Explicit

Request: dom top ted and sub bottom cooper with size difference, choking and maybe pet play. or just like anything kinky with bottom cooper lol

Summary: That was the thing about Ted and Cooper's relationship, it was a constant cycle of breaking each other down and putting each other back together again.

Warnings: Top Ted, dom Ted, bottom Cooper, sub Cooper, anal fingering, anal sex, rough sex, barebacking, creampie, dirty talk, face slapping, size kink, consent play.

Words: 2,193

Cooper shivered as he laid on the slightly uncomfortable bed, stripped completely down and spread out while Ted watched him. It seemed like this had been going on for hours now. He couldn't tell quite when they started or how long they'd been doing this, but he imagined it had been a long time. Ted had been in a mood all day. They'd be dating long enough for Cooper to know the signs of Ted needing a night where he just took control over everything. He'd been irritable all day long and had taken the first chance he had to pull Cooper into his bedroom. Cooper never needed much urging before he was giving Ted whatever he needed; they always took care of one another, that was their thing. 

Ted had instructed him to strip, his voice soft and steady, but still controlling and dominant. It made Cooper want to break down to his knees and give Ted anything he wanted. He obeyed every command as soon as it was given, wanting to be good for Ted. Other times, he would be a brat and act out, but that wasn't what either of them needed or wanted right then. He'd pulled off his own clothes easily, taking his time and putting on a show as Ted watched him closely. He would never get over how Ted looked at him, he decided, the way he acted like Cooper was the only thing he could focus on. It made Cooper feel unbelievably loved with just a look and it was almost overwhelming sometimes. 

Never touching him, Ted told Cooper to get himself ready for him. And how could he deny him anything? Of course, he would've loved having Ted's hands on him, but he wanted to please him more than anything. And if it took his own fingers pressing inside himself, one after another while Ted told him when to push another in, then that's exactly what he would do. A part of him liked being watched anyway. Exhibitionism had never quite been his thing, but he liked it when Ted would pay this kind of attention to him. And Ted's eyes never left him, pupils tiny dots in his eyes and his gaze following every small movement of Cooper's body as he writhed against the bed. 

"You're an angel, Coop. A fucking angel," Ted had murmured out at some point and it made Cooper whine, wanting to be close to him so badly. "I know, sweetheart. Soon, okay? Just add another finger for me," Cooper nodded before the words were even out, pressing a third finger inside of himself and continued to stretch himself out. It seemed to take forever before Ted was finally beginning to take his own clothes off. Cooper's eyes followed him and he never stopped fingering himself because Ted hadn't told him to. Ted hesitated when he finally got to his underwear, seeming a bit insecure and Cooper wasn't surprised; Ted just got that way sometimes. But a brief second later, fingers pushed the fabric down and Ted's hard cock popped out, seeming to catch Cooper off guard no matter how many times he saw the other man undressed. 

"You look so hot, Teddy. You're so handsome for me," Cooper rambled as soon as his words found him again. He wanted, no, he needed Ted to know just how beautiful he was. No matter how long they'd been together, Cooper always found him so breathtaking. Ted gave him a small smile at the words and reached down to stroke himself. Ted's cock was proportional to the rest of him, long and thick in between his legs. His body hair was neatly groomed and he took pride in keeping himself tidy. In the beginning of their relationship, Cooper had been slightly intimidated by Ted's size and how experienced he seemed in everything that he did. It all just seemed to come naturally to him. 

“Just hold still for a second,” Ted murmured and readjusted himself to be over top of Cooper. The position emphasized their size difference, showing just how much bigger Ted was and Cooper had to keep himself from shivering at that. He’d always loved feeling small compared to Ted, loved being completely covered by his boyfriend’s body when they were like this. Large hands found his thighs, spreading them gently. Some days, Ted wouldn’t be like this. He’d be rough as he took hold of Cooper’s body, not caring about their size or strength difference. He would leave bruises and marks in his wake, ignoring Cooper’s whimpering and complaints about the roughness. But Cooper never truly minded. 

He especially couldn’t bring himself to care when Ted was stroking his own cock, lining the head up with Cooper’s hole. For a few moments, he just rubbed himself there. His head was leaking already, precum smearing across Cooper’s skin and making it shiny. Ted’s eyes were mostly focused on the sight there, but he looked back up when Cooper made a slightly unhappy sound and began squirming around a bit. 

“It’s not gonna fit,” Cooper said softly. He knew Ted like he knew the back of his hand, knowing everything the other liked in bed and what he didn’t. Ted’s free hand reached out to take hold of Cooper’s hip and Cooper was quickly grabbing onto his wrist. “Please, you’re too big. It won’t fit,” He repeated, faking desperation. Ted smirked softly and leaned in, kissing Cooper for a few long seconds before pulling away from his mouth. 

“Oh, angel. Don’t worry,” Ted whispered to him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The hand on Cooper’s waist rubbed his skin in small circles, just letting him lay there for a moment. “I’ll make it fit,” He assured and his hips started pushing in before Cooper could react. A strangled gasp escaped Cooper’s throat and his hand held tightly onto Ted’s wrist. He hadn’t been lying when he said Ted was big, he was fucking massive. Even after Cooper prepared himself, the first push inside still burned and Ted had to readjust himself a couple times. “Fuck. You’re so tight,” He muttered as he struggled to force the head inside. 

“I told you it wasn’t gonna-” Cooper’s words were cut off by a sharp hand coming down across his cheek. His skin burned and tears welled up in his eyes, it hurt and it was humiliating. And it was everything he loved about moments like these. “I’m sorry,” He said quietly, wincing when Ted shoved himself forward. A sharp snap of his hips buried him completely inside and he paused as soon as he did, giving Cooper time to adjust and relax to the feeling. They stayed quiet for a couple minutes, the only sound between them was heavy breathing.

“I’ve got you, baby. Told you I’d fit,” Ted knew Cooper knew his safewords and signals, he’d use them if he needed to. Until then, he wasn’t going to ease up on him. He finally felt comfortable enough to start moving. Cooper let out an airy noise when he first started moving, his pace slow and steady. He’d pull out a few inches before pressing back inside deeply. It took everything in him to not just lose control and start fucking into him, but he managed it and kept his movements gentle to let Cooper get used to his size again. 

“You feel so good,” Cooper murmured and that was all that Ted needed, it was their signal for him to be rougher if he wanted to be. And God, he really wanted to. His hips began rocking quicker, taking a bit of time to build up a rougher pace with Cooper. Cooper moaned quietly at the feeling, the stretch still burning as Ted started using him however he wanted. Ted shifted upwards, getting a better grip on Cooper’s thighs to give himself a bit more leverage to fuck into him. The new angle forced him somehow deeper inside of him. 

“You feel my cock bulging out of you, baby boy?” Ted grinned down at him, grasping one of Cooper’s hands to bring it to his stomach. Cooper knew logically that he couldn’t actually feel Ted’s cock pressing through his skin, maybe if he lost a bit of weight, but they were both so caught up in the moment. He nodded as he pressed his fingers into his own skin. In actuality, he could feel Ted moving with each thrust and it was easy to let his mind run wild. “I’m practically breaking you apart, huh?” Cooper nodded again, smiling back up at Ted. 

“Feels like you’re in my stomach,” Cooper whined, tears still streaking his face and his cheek a bright red from where Ted had hit him. Ted thrust harder, adjusting his hips a bit to brush against Cooper’s prostate with every movement. “Fuck,” He breathed out shakily, fingers grasping at the blankets as Ted kept up his pace. He’d always been shocked by Ted’s stamina, the man never seeming to need to slow down. And in moments like these, it was almost overwhelming in the best ways possible. 

“It’s not my fault you’re so small,” Ted knew they both liked the size difference between them. And during times when Ted needed to relax a bit, he liked pointing it out even more. He liked feeling needed, liked feeling like he could take care of Cooper. He enjoyed how every inch of Cooper seemed to fit in his hands, easy to manhandle and overpower. Cooper had no choice but to let him do whatever he wanted in times like these. Even though Ted knew in the back of his mind that Cooper had a stranglehold over his heart. 

He’d never felt so deeply for someone before and he knew he’d do anything the second Cooper asked him to. In bed, Ted could take over and be the one who was listened to. It gave him the full control he lacked in other aspects of his life. And he was just thankful Cooper trusted him enough to give him full control, trusting Ted to make the right choices for him and to put him back together after breaking him.

“You make me feel even smaller,” Cooper told him and Ted cursed at those words. A shudder rolled through him, hips stuttering a bit as he tried to keep up his pace. Cooper had always known exactly what to say to drive him out of his mind. Ted wanted to make Cooper feel small and Cooper always knew how to make Ted feel like he was needed. Maybe both of them pulled each other apart and put one another back together again. 

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby. You’re making me feel so good,” Ted praised, putting his full effort into making himself come. Cooper’s noises got louder as Ted drilled into his prostate more frequently, not giving his body a moment of reprieve in between thrusts. “That’s right. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel,” Ted’s ego was getting the better of him, making him yearn for every sound he could pull from Cooper. 

“Feels good, Teddy. You feel so good,” Cooper rambled, words sounding strained as he struggled to get them out. He sounded so broken. Ted groaned and buried his face into Cooper’s shoulder, hips slamming into him in shorter thrusts. Cooper’s fingers tangled into Ted’s hair, knowing his boyfriend was about to tip over that edge. “Please come in me,” Cooper’s words were barely above a whisper, breathy and stuttered, and that was all it took. 

“Fuck,” Ted drew the word out as he fucked into Cooper wildly, body almost trembling from pleasure as he came. He pressed himself deep inside of his partner, wanting to be as close as he could get. “You feel so fucking good,” He murmured out, pressing a kiss against his skin. Cooper was breathing hard beneath him, acting as though he’d been the one doing all the work and Ted smiled at that a bit as he nuzzled into him. ‘I love you,” He told him easily, fingers stroking against whatever warm skin he could reach. 

“I love you too,” Cooper smiled and relaxed further into the bed, feeling comfortable being caught between the bed and Ted’s warm body on top of him. His fingers tangled into Ted’s hair to stroke through it gently, enjoying how close they were in the afterglow of it all. Things were always so peaceful after.  “Are you done being a grump now?” He asked with a soft laugh, his words teasing and Ted’s eyebrows furrowing up at the question. 

“Hey. I am not a grump,” Ted huffed out, burying his face deeper into Cooper’s shoulder. Cooper simply rolled his eyes at the protestation, the smile never leaving his face. “But if I were to be a grump then yes. I would be done,” He confirmed after a few seconds of silence, laughing a bit as he spoke. Cooper shook his head and laughed warmly, hugging Ted a little tighter. Yeah, he knew he’d never feel more whole than he did in that moment.

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

[rafescoke]

i’m sooo obsessed with your entire page holy moly. if you’re taking requests can i get kinda an angst one where the reader is with jj and finds out him and kie have been doing stuff behind her back, and the rest of the group knew the whole time? so she ends up getting close to rafe and hanging out with his friends so it eventually ends up with rafe x reader??? sorry that’s so long lol pls never stop writing, i love your fics too much <3

All I Ask ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

#Part 1

#Part 2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Reader finds herself in the arms of her best friend’s brother after finding her boyfriend cheating on her 

Warnings: Cheating, substance, mentions of sex, jealous Rafe, JJ & Kie being an asshole

A/N: Thank you so much for the amount of love I received from my last two works! It has been so overwhelming and I love each one of you with all my heart <3

p.s, my request box is always open! Send random ideas and I’ll turn them into a fic <33

p.p.s, so sorry if this isn’t my best work :(

“Come on, (Y/N), don’t be a party pooper!”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she pulled her best friend aside from all the commotion, “Sarah. I’m serious. I feel like he’s cheating on me.”

“He’s not!” Sarah groaned, and when (Y/N) gave her a look, she sighed. “I’m serious. He loves you too much, okay? Look, tomorrow’s your birthday, right? I’m sure JJ’s just ignoring you as a part of your birthday surprise.”

(Y/N) wanted to believe her so bad, but she couldn’t deny the strong feeling growing inside her. Ever since a month ago, JJ wasn’t there for her like always. When she tried to hold him in the van or at the Chateau, he would flinch and scoot away from her. She didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Look-” Sarah cupped her face, her eyes boring into hers. “I promise that he’s not cheating on you. Can you please let this go? How about you go and find him, have a smoke, and then come back to me with the verdict?”

(Y/N) hummed back in response, thinking about what Sarah had just told her. When she first moved to Obx from the city 4 years ago, she had been spending most of her time with the other kooks. When she bumped onto JJ one particular evening while he was too busy mowing down her lawn, that was when most of her happiest days started. 

(Y/N) made her way towards the far end of the beach where JJ and the other pogues were hanging out, her feet lightly patting against the hot sand. (Y/N) took a deep breath when she saw the love of her life laughing on a log, and quickly walked towards him.

“Hey,” she started, sitting on the empty space beside him. JJ shifted, giving her more space, and muttered a quick ‘hi’ back. He offered her a beer, to which she shook her head to, and he shrugged before downing the whole content.

“You’ve got some beer here,” (Y/N) said, leaning forward to wipe the tiny droplet on his chin. JJ hurtled backwards as if on cue, and quickly wiped the stain with the back of his hand. (Y/N) stared at him, being caught off guard, but decided to not create any drama.

“You really don’t have to do that,” (Y/N) muttered, wrapping her cardigan over her tighter. The cold night air swept over her, causing her hair to fall over her shoulders. She didn’t bother to fix it as she watched JJ scoffed, the fire in front of them reflecting on the surface of his blue eyes.

“Do what? Wipe my mouth? Come on, (Y/N), it’s really not that big of a deal,” JJ sighed. He didn’t even bother to hold her hand, to reassure her that it’s really okay, and instead he continued his conversation with John B about some kind of a movie. She noticed Pope looking at their way, but he quickly turned to look at the waves when she returned his gaze.

“Do you want to smoke?” she tried again, this time with her hands on his lap. He didn’t move, and (Y/N) took this as a good sign, her heart fluttering happily. 

It’s progress.

“You sure?” he asked, fumbling with his back pocket to reach for his extra blunt. When he grasped the rolled up herbs between his fingers, he handed it to her, smiling when she scooted closer. He lighted it for her, watching her took a deep huff before blowing the smoke.

“That’s good?” he asked before taking a blow for himself. He felt his heavy mind getting lighter, the weight he has been holding since forever slowly lifting into the air. He laughed, and turned to look at the state of the girl beside him.

“Thank you, baby,” (Y/N) smiled, this time with her head on his shoulder. She saw Pope looking at them with some kind of a heavy look again, but just like before, he turned away before she could ask him anything. 

“Pope?” 

Pope’s attention from the crashing waves turned completely to (Y/N), his eyes wide and his mind panicking. His eyes glanced to the blonde boy beside her for a second, but it settled back to her. “Yes?”

“You’re okay? You keep looking at me. Is there anything that you want to tell me?”

“Me?” he pointed to his chest, and when he saw the look on JJ’s face, he laughed, making an action of swatting his hands against the air. “Oh no. I was just thinking about something else. I guess I involuntarily looked at you.”

(Y/N) laughed with him, her head still on JJ’s shoulder, her eyes slowly squinting against the glowing fire that seemed to be too bright. She turned to whisper to JJ, “Can we go home?”

“Tonight? But It’s Bonfire night. We can’t leave yet,” he protested, glancing at both of his friends for help. Pope, not wanting to spend anymore time with them anymore, quickly stood up from his seat and walked towards the main space of the party. 

“I’m gonna go with Pope, okay? Find Sarah. Go and talk to her? I’ll call you later,” JJ quickly added, standing up from his seat, stirring (Y/N) from her previous position. She sighed, her head still woozy, but she didn’t want to think about the possibility of him cheating on her.

He wanted her first, it’s just not possible for him to suddenly lose feelings for her. The countless times he would tell her that he loves her, that she’s the only girl he will ever mark as his, and now nothing?

She groaned, kicking the sand, all while the muffled music thrumming against her eardrums. She turned to look at John B, the only guy left with her, and opened her mouth to say something.

“Do you see the problem, John B?” she asked, her voice slow. When he didn’t reply, she sighed again, this time standing up from her seat to return to the ongoing party. “This is exactly the fucking problem.”

She didn’t understand; why is everyone treating her differently? What did she do? She sacrificed almost everything to be apart of their group, including her relationship with her kook friends. At that moment, she longed for her bedroom, where she knew she will be totally safe, all cuddled up with Netflix to enjoy.

“If it isn’t the princess,” a voice said from behind her back, and (Y/N) rolled her eyes before turning to look at the source. The tall figure of Rafe Cameron loomed over her, and (Y/N) tried to block his scent of cigarette and expensive cologne. She never really stopped liking his smell.

The Camerons and her family are business partners, and that was the core reason for her family to move to Obx in the middle of July 4 years ago. Meeting Sarah and her siblings for the first time, she couldn’t deny the strong attraction she felt towards the oldest sibling, but she had thought of it as nothing more than a silly crush and tried to focus more on her relationship with a certain blonde boy living on the other side of the island.

“You can take a picture, it’ll last longer that way,” he smiled, and (Y/N) groaned when she could hear the amused tone lacing in his gruff voice. She made to walk away, but was halted by Rafe’s fingers around her wrist.

“Come on, I was just playing. That’s not the way to treat an old friend,” he laughed, letting go of her. He looked around her, noticing her odd behaviour, and suppressed his smile. “Where’s the boyfriend?”

“I don’t know,” she finally replied, and returned the gesture of looking around him. “Where’s the girlfriend?”

Rafe laughed, throwing his head back as his hair messily slicked to the back. “Girlfriend? I don’t do girlfriends. Come on, (Y/N), you know that.”

“Not a surprise,” she said in a singing tone, giving her attention towards the dancing bodies next to the speaker. “Look, Rafe, just say whatever you want to say to me, okay? I’m tired of trying to figure out what people wanted to say to me.” 

“I just want to make a conversation,” he shrugged, chugging down his beer before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His actions reminded her of JJ, and she quickly looked away when she felt a pang of hurt across her heart.

“Uh-oh, I know that look,” Rafe said, tugging her chin to force her to look at him. (Y/N) grunted, feeling his cold skin against hers, but she let him stare into her eyes before quickly pulling away. “Yeah. It’s that look you’ll put when you’re worried about something. What’s up?”

“Rafe, it’s really nothing,” she sighed, scooting away from the boy. She looked around again, and her eyes landed on a certain blonde boy, and she could feel her heart soaring up again. Rafe’s eyes followed her gaze, and when he saw JJ, he turned to look away.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Rafe replied, already making his way towards the keg station.  (Y/N) noticed the change in his behaviour, seeing how cold he turned, but decided not to mention it. She was being cold towards him first, so she guessed it was fair for him to be acting that way. 

Rafe didn’t understand how blind she could be. Couldn’t she notice the pattern of the girls he fucked? How they all looked so similar to her? 

He scoffed, sipping from his red cup as he watched her walk towards the boy that stole her from him. Everything was going perfect; they were hanging out almost every day; just her and Rafe, either it was in his swimming pool or (Y/N)’s hot tub. When her father had hired JJ Maybank to mower his lawn, that was when everything went downhill. 

“Cameron,” a voice greeted from beside him, and when he turned to look at the figure, he expressed a sly smirk.

One more person that looked like her.

. . .

JJ’s phone was beside her.

She kept telling herself no, that she should trust him since they are in a relationship, but her brain was yelling for her to go through his phone.

He’s cheating on you.

She groaned, unable to contain herself anymore as she grabbed his phone, looking around briefly before typing his passcode. 

The phone vibrated in her hands as she failed to guess his passcode, and she frowned before the screen. It had been her birthday’s date, so why wouldn’t it open? She tried again with their anniversary date, and again, was met with the same fate.

“What the fuck?” she said to no one in particular, and sighed before trying out random numbers. Lastly, she pressed all 1, not thinking much of it and already accepting her defeat. She exclaimed in happiness when his home screen appeared with his background a picture of a dog.

(Y/N) frowned again, remembering how it used to be a picture of them, but decided to not question it as their picture had been replaced by a dog instead of something else. She went through his Instagram, scroling down the many direct messages, through his Imessages; where he texts the pogues a lot and through his Snapchat, only finding their private pictures in his ‘my eyes only’.

She released the breath she didn’t realise she was holding, shutting the phone off and letting it lay in its previous position. She smiled, secretly cursing at herself for ever doubting JJ. He must’ve been busy with his life, just-

Ding!

Involuntarily, (Y/N) picked up the phone and watched as Kie’s name appeared. She typed in his passcode quickly, trying to see what she needs so that she could try and help her with anything in case if it’s urgent. Her heart stopped for a minute when she saw her text.

Kie: You’re sleeping with her tonight?

Why would she even text him that?

(Y/N) sat up straighter, her fingers gliding across the screen in a swift motion.

wdym?

She watched as the typing signal appeared, biting the insides of her cheeks. She looked at the direction of the toilet again, hearing the blonde boy humming to a Nirvana song. She looked at the screen again.

Kie: You promised me you would be with me tonight

Kie: Just us two

Oh my god.

She could feel the hot tears coming in, but her bathroom door creaked open, so she threw the phone back to its initial position and cleared her throat, looking to the ceiling and randomly muttering words to herself.

“Huh?” JJ asked, looking at the direction she pointed. He saw nothing, and looked back to her. 

“I said white’s not the color anymore. I think I’m changing it to grey. What do you think?” She asked, feeling her throat hurting. She cleared her throat again as JJ stared at the ceiling one more time, his face all scrunched up.

“I think grey’s okay?” He said, but it was more to a question. He took his phone and sat beside her, shielding his screen from her. She watched him from the corners of her eyes, silently interpreting his strange demeanor. 

She cursed when it finally hit her; she hadn’t delete her text to Kie.

She bit her lips, curling her toes and randomly tracing circles on her lap. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see clearly, she couldn’t think.

How could she forgot to delete that one, single text? 

“I have to go,” JJ stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket. (Y/N) looked at him, ready to ask if she could follow, but halted her action when he put a hand up.

“I’m seeing John B. Something about, um, Sarah stuff. Just me and Pope. The boys,” he muttered, clearly trying to tell her that he wouldn’t be bringing her to the Chateau. (Y/N) nodded, feeling her heart sank, because she finally understood everything;

The glances he would give to Kie in the HMS Pogue, the brief moments where he would put his hands around Kie’s waist when he tries to slip in between her and someone, the flirtatious laugh he’ll emit when she makes a joke - it all made sense.

(Y/N) used to think that it was all just friendly behaviour and how he had known her longer hence it must’ve been normal for best friends to do that. One thing that (Y/N) likes about herself is how she’s able to guess things correctly - 

But she had never wanted to be so wrong about something before.

“You’re okay by yourself tonight?” 

“Huh?” She finally looked up to him, seeing his blue eyes staring straight into her boring ones. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he smiled, proceeding towards the open window to exit her bedroom. (Y/N) ‘s father would never give his blessings towards this relationship, so he had to enter and exit his girlfriend’s room through the window. 

He hesitated before reaching the seating girl, placing a soft but immediate kiss on her cheeks. (Y/N) smiled weakly in return, not trusting herself to say anything.

How could he?

Ten minutes after his departure, (Y/N) quickly grabbed her father’s car keys before fleeing after a particular black motorcycle. She didn’t even think about turning the car radio on, and her mind was set on only one thing; JJ and Kie.

When she arrived at the Chateau, her fingers trembling and her hair all over the place from the wind while she was driving down the road, forgetting to close the window, she quickly made her way to their usual hanging out place.

Before she could enter the room, Pope’s voice interrupted her actions.

“(Y/N)? What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes widening. He looked at her palm around the doorknob, and let out a nervous laugh. “You’re looking for JJ? He’s not here.”

She gets it now.

“Pope, I know,” was all she said before opening the door. 

She felt her world shattering right after she was greeted with the sight of Kie on JJ’s lap, running her fingers through his blonde locks while she kissed him tenderly like  (Y/N) always did. John B and Sarah were right next to him, cheering him on, but stopped when they finally looked up to the looming figure.

“Oh my god,” Kie exclaimed, pushing herself off JJ and fixing her hair. (Y/N) made a look, disgust filling every inch of her body as she quickly walked away from the scene, not wanting to hear any apologies or explanation.

None of that mattered to her; she just wanted to go home.

“(Y/N)!” she heard him yell, but she exited the Chateau as fast as her feet could take her, not stopping to look at him. She cursed when she couldn’t find the right key to open her door, her fingernails clanking against the metal.

“It was a dare!” JJ said, right after he reached her. He watched as she didn’t pay any attention towards him, still fumbling for her keys. “I swear! The kiss was just a dare!”

“Was the text a dare as well?” she asked, finally putting the right key into the keyhole and stepping into the car. JJ cursed and stepped aside, feeling drained and tired from the screaming.

Of course he didn’t send the ‘wdym’. He never like short forms, only using them when he is in the toilet and typing with his left hand. Why didn’t he realised this sooner?

“I’m sorry,” he said, but before he could say anything else, the girl drove straight towards the exit, away from him. 

The worst part of all wasn’t about not having a chance to explain himself to get out of the mess he made, but it was when he saw the pained look on her face. 

“Fuck!” he yelled, kicking a stone and making his way back towards the Chateau. 

(Y/N) fingers scrolled down the many contacts in her phone as she tried to focus on the road simultaneously, and finally stopping when she reached the letter ‘R’ contacts. 

She tapped on the first name under the R letter, putting the phone call on speaker and placing her phone on her lap. She shuddered, suddenly remembering the way she had found JJ and Kie in, but shook her head when his voice filled the atmosphere.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Rafe.”

-

add yourself to the taglist!

[breaniebree]

I know it's only Sunday but I felt like it lol

SNEAK PEEK!

Chapter 342 -- The One With the Baby Whisperer

But when she walked into the living room and found her boyfriend sprawled in an armchair with Mina and Leo each tucked into his lap and a newborn asleep across his chest, she was pretty sure that her womb contracted.  Merlin, he looked so ridiculously sexy sitting there with babies all over him.

His messy black hair looked wonderfully windswept.  His glasses were crooked on his face, half sliding down his nose as his head lolled off to the side.  His eyelashes looked full and long with his eyes closed and the soft snores that were emitting from his half-opened lips was the cutest sound she’d ever heard.  Teddy was asleep on his shoulder, Harry’s hand on his back and bum, the large hand making Teddy look impossibly tiny.  Mina and Leo were each sitting half in his lap, asleep against his chest, their hands touching each other.  He had his arm wrapped around each of them, attempting to hold them close while his other arm was around Teddy.  A throw blanket covered the twins and Harry’s lap and Ginny had a sudden image of him sitting there holding a baby with his black messy hair and green eyes.  She had to place a hand over her stomach to try to stop the sudden feeling of yearning that rushed through her.

She was pretty sure that if it was possible, she definitely could get pregnant just by looking at him.  This was an image she wanted to keep forever and she desperately wished that she had a camera to capture this cuteness overload.

Zee’s hand squeezed hers.  “Dora and I already took a photo,” she whispered.  “He made himself comfortable with Teddy and the twins wanted to sit with him.  Mama put some music on the wireless and since it was about time for their nap, they just dropped off to sleep.  Could he look any bloody cuter?”

“I need that photo,” Ginny said, licking her lips.  “He looks too damn good holding those babies.”

Zee chuckled.  “You’ll be the first.  He’s so good with them.  They just adore him, you know?  And the way that he was looking at little Teddy… he’s going to be such an amazing godfather to that baby.  I couldn’t be more proud of him.  The four of them have been sleeping just over an hour now, so go ahead and wake them if you’d like.”

Ginny didn’t want to wake Mina and Leo, but she certainly did want to kiss her boyfriend.  Well, if she was honest with herself, she wanted to shag his brains out at the moment and quite possibly have his children right this second.  She couldn’t even begin to explain how attractive he looked in this moment.  She tiptoed over to the chair and leaned in to kiss his cheek.  He stirred slightly so she dropped a kiss to his lips.

Harry’s eyes fluttered open slowly and when he saw her, his face brightened.  “Hey.”

“Hi, yourself,” she whispered.  “What are you the baby whisperer?”

He chuckled, glancing down at his chest and lap.  “Pretty sure my arms and legs are asleep.”

“You look so sexy right now.”

“Yeah?”  he teased.  “Kiss me again then.”

She did and when she pulled back, he pouted. 

“Don’t pout,” she said.  “It’s bad enough that I want to do very naughty things to you right now.”

“How naughty?”

Ginny leaned down to nip at his ear.  “Let’s just say so naughty that I can’t speak it aloud.”

He groaned.  “Not fair.”

Ginny pecked his lips once more.  “I have never wanted to have your babies more than I do at this very moment.”

His eyes darkened.  “Fuck…”

Her lips met his for another long kiss and when she pulled away, the desire in his eyes made her lick her lips.  “You holding a baby is very dangerous, Potter.  Neither of us are ready for that just yet.”

“Think we can sneak away for a bit?”  he asked, his eyes hopeful.  “It may be years off, but we really should practice how to make one, for the future.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she said, her lips curving at how incredibly appealing that ideas sounded.  “Can I hold Teddy?”

Harry nodded and smiled when she carefully took Teddy from his arms, cradling him over her heart.  He shifted slightly, but didn’t wake and Ginny’s lips curved. 

“Oh, he’s so beautiful.  Look at these little lips.”