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bootycallin · 2 months ago

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uhhhh i saw something and i. cw: fingering and that’s it. basically backshots but no dick or strap just her fingers. cursing?? idk. not proofread my clitoris did the thinking and i just put it on a spreadsheet.

a/n: ughhh i know that im supposed to write for jinx but i cant stop thinking abt this mf. wasian masc save me

just thinking about riding mizu’s fingers. so fucking long, slender, but reaching the deepest places inside you with such ease. it’s easy for her to slam her fingers in, width accommodating comfortably inside you while her fingertips nearly kiss your cervix.

mizu never did understand your fixation for her hands. frankly, you didn’t either. they’re just hands—something she thought was quite unattractive in herself, actually. scarred and calloused from years of sword fighting and working with metals, she believed you hated the rough texture on the pads of her palm, the slightly raspy feeling of her fingertips from so many years or wielding a katana, eating at the layers of skin.

though, you don’t even have to tell her—she knows you love her fingers. maybe even more than her strap no matter how big and how deep she reaches. her self-confidence has gone up significantly because of you, because of moments like this. and quickly, her favorite thing has become watching you bounce back against her hand as she fingers you.

blue eyes watch with laser-focus, fixated on the back of your head. you can practically hear her gears churning, every calculated curl of her fingers inside your heat, seeking to make you cry out and send your eyes rolling to the back of your head. like a dumb slut, and nothing else. her dumb slut.

you can feel her so deep. her fingers are longer than yours are, by a long shot—not even you can masturbate and make yourself feel this good. the way the pads of her fingers press into that little spongy spot you always seem to miss on yourself, forcing the slightest pressure on your bladder, whimpers snd cries filled from your throat like taking candy from a baby. slamming in restlessly, her hands don’t tire, skillful from hears of her craft like she’d studied exactly this.

in fact, she has. she has studied you. and she knows what makes you tick—read; cum.

“does that feel good?” it’s a rhetorical question from the woman behind you. you know she knows, and she knows you know she knows. she’s not expecting an answer, just the same strangled noise signaling your pleasure.

“mizu,” you moan, jaw hanging slack from the constant noise of ‘ah, aah’ and begging and whatever else comes from you, noises completely involuntary. she’s not even doing a lot of work. your hips move on their on as she just curls them in and out, thrusting cloyingly gently into you into you. in return, you thrust back against her, back arched similarly to a cat’s, seeking more of the stimulation she provided.

“easy,” she mutters. she can feel you getting desperate, clenching together against her fingers with each trust, each press into your g-spot. your shoulders are trembling, head hanging low, moans growing more and more whiny by the second. your bouncing on her fingers just gets more desperate, and she barely even does anything. just lets you ride her fingers like a toy.

“easy. there you go,” her free hand is on your waist, gently steadying you. she doesn’t try to control your movements or anything, as much as she aches to prolong your orgasm just to see you cry and beg. she’s mean, but she’s not cruel. and she can be nice.

“good. so good, that’s it,” praised mizu, tenderly, thumb brushing patterns against the soft flesh of your back. she was leaning forward so she almost hugged you from behind, peppering kissed down your spine between your shoulder blades.

“that’s it. good girl. go on.”

the words that spilled from her lips only urged you to continue, quicker, though your legs quivered and your lungs burned from panting. you were almost there, you could feel it, the edge of the cliff just waiting for you to fall off. but, the journey to said edge just grows more and more frustrating and overwhelming. you can feel it, but your body is giving out.

“no, no— please, shit, mizu—“ you begged.

“language.” a short smack sounds in the (mostly) quiet room, resulted from her softly spanking your ass at your words. it just makes you cry louder. big baby, she thinks. not that she’s complaining. it’s cute, seeing you get so desperate.

“don’t tell me you’re getting tired,” teasingly sweet, nearly condescending. the amusement’s tangible in her voice that reverberates down your spine and you know where else too.

“you haven’t even cum yet baby,” punctuated by a particularly mean curl of her fingers, your back arched, fingers desperately clawing at the bedsheets to try and stabilize yourself. desperately chasing the high that vets closer and closer, knot in your stomach tightening exponentially—but your thighs are trembling, body shaking.

"please, mizu!" you cried. you couldn't anymore— overstimulated yet not enough to cum, tired and dumb and sensitive. you can practically feel the smile on her lips as she hums, kissing the back of your neck.

"what is it, baby?" the honeyed voice behind you asks, "you need some help, hm?"

"yes!"

your thighs give out under you before you can even finish. you're barely holding yourself up. hot tears running down your red cheeks, screwed shut while you clench uselessly around her.

"please, please, please— so close, please, mizu, fuck me, please—"

and, oh, how can she deny such a sweet thing?

mizu's calloused palm finds itself between your shoulder blades, pushing you down into the bed. she sits up on her haunces right behind you, hand in the same position her strap would be—as if she needed that. no warning, but precedented; because why wouldn't she? she slams her fingers into your cunt, barely even giving you time to adjust as she takes a relentless pace, fingertips pushing into your cervix with each thrust. she relishes in your needy moans and cries, the way you bury your face into the bed to try and quiet yourself. your poor, abused cunt clamping tightly around her digits, warm walls saturated with the evidence of the incoming wave of pleasure right about to hit.

"good girl," she praised, saccharine words bringing you closer and closer and closer to your orgasm. good girl. good girl. that's it, that's it, just let go for me, baby. that's it. good—

it's just one of those nights.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

#╰┈➤BOOTYCALLIN⨾#𝟷𝟷:𝟷𝟷 ⋮ blurbs .#lesbian #x reader #wlw #wlw smut #mizu #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #bes x reader #bes x you #mizu x reader #mizu x fem!reader #mizu x you #lord PUHLEASE

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mv1simp · 10 months ago

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Dark Paradise ♥️

Max Verstappen x Best Friend’s Lil Sister!Reader

everytime I close my eyes, it’s like a dark paradise, no one compares to you...

in which your pining for your older brother’s handsome best friend, Max Verstappen, results in him finally giving you his affections after you hatch a diabolical plan. too bad you had no idea max was far more diabolical than you!! (he can match your freak) 🥺

content includes: PURE SMUT LOL, Dubcon, dark!max, drunk reader, innocent virgin reader, manipulation, daddy kink, spit kink, size kink, dom/sub vibes. 18+ MDNI. this is embarrassing i was bored and horny and ended up writing 5.5k??

your older brother’s best friend!max has always ignored you even though you’ve had a crush on him since you were little. it didn’t matter that your families had grown up together and you had attended all his karting races since you were a kid, cheering him and your brother on from the sidelines, or that you were always there with your cute smile and pigtails to say you did so good, maxie, next time for sure when he had his rare losses, or when he was 21 and fighting for his first championship and his father’s expectations were heavier than ever and he didn’t have to explain anything to you, who grew up in a household with a father very much like jos and would rub his arm in a comforting way, an understanding look in your eyes everytime he and his dad fought. it all didn’t matter cause despite your constant affections, max still acted like he couldn’t care less about you whenever you saw him, the only thing seemingly on his mind being racing.

except tonight -

tonight, he’s forced to take little innocent virgin!you home after you get too drunk at a party. you’re whining in defeat, cheeks puffed out against your pink lipglossed lips, pouting and all, cuz you had worn the perfect lil outfit in all his favourite colors, your sexy curves on display and makeup done to perfection, just how you knew he liked it from the one time he had complimented it. and you had a plan - to show him that you were all grown up, to make max go crazy over you for once instead - and you were just in the middle of flirting with Cha, innocently fluttering your lashes at the handsome Monegasque driver who had none of max’s coldness and was all to happy to amuse your attentions on him - when your stupid older brother had shown up on the dance floor and demanded max drop you home on his way back to his, putting an early end to your plan to finally make out with the Dutch champion tonight!!

instead of making out with you in a steamy session in a dark club corner that you had imagined, he’s guiding you into his sleek expensive Aston Martin, large hands coming into contact with your perky lil tits and soft waist as he buckles you in, making you moan and giggle sloppily, all the alcohol loosening all your inhibitions and making your deepest fantasies spill out as he settles into the drivers seat, sorryy maxie this just reminds me of a naughty dream i had once with you inside the cockpit of your red bull car

the tall Dutch man is silent as he levels an intense stare at you and reaches his hand up to your face and you gasp, thinking your dream is coming true - only for him to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before turning away and starting the car. you pout, embarrassed, thinking that your plan failed, and are silent for the rest of the ride, your only solace being his warm palm resting on top of your thick thigh, easily wrapping around the width of it.

he helps you out of the car without any prompts, bending down to pick you up and place you over his big shoulder when you stumble in your strappy gold high heels, one hand gently on your ass to secure you. You giggle again as he crossed the threshold into the apartment, giddy from the attention and physical touch you’re getting from him, and you reach down to smack his bum with a drunken laugh.

you feel the front of his chest rumble at your slap and it sends a shiver right in between your legs, to your little pussy which had already started becoming soaked to moment you had seen him across the club that night, in a plain muscle tee which stretched across his broad shoulders and an expression even stormier than usual as his eyes met yours across the club, narrowing as he watched you rub your pretty pink manicured fingers up and down Charles’ biceps.

he sets you down and you blink cuz this isn’t your house, omg maxie is this your penthouse? you’re looking around in awe cause you’ve never been allowed over before. you’re so distracted that you don’t notice the smirk on his face as his ice blue eyes darken looking at you twirling around his living room. he palms his aching cock and thanks whatever fucked up god let him get lucky tonight - just you and him, finally alone - and he knows just how eager you’ve always been to please him. he hasn’t missed the pining, lovesick looks you always shoot him, the jealous stares at his latest model girlfriend of the month. He admits that he never took it seriously at first, seeing you just as a little sister-

but fuck you had come back last summer after finishing college - with your mechanical engineering degree and first class honours to make your father proud - looking like his own personal wet dream. Cute lil perky tits and a juicy ass squeezed into the tightest dresses in pastel florals, highlighting your sun kissed tan skin, with your eyelined wide doe eyes as you gazed up at him completing your innocent look. But he knew firsthand you were anything but innocent when he walked past you sunbathing in your new string bikinis, tits pushed up fully on display with your nose buried in one of your romance novels. He caught a glimpse of a sentence on his way past - he shoved his hot, aching member into her warm heat as she moaned in pleasure and begged him for more, more - making his eyes widen before he smirked, this is the garbage you had always been reading? He knew you weren’t innocent when he was sleeping over in the guest room neighbouring your bedroom and heard your cute little voice moan for him in the dead of the night, maxie please please please i want you, I need it, please maxie make me come accompanied by the quiet buzz of your tiny baby pink bullet vibrator. Fuck, that had been hot. That had been the start of max’s own twisted fantasies about fucking you, owning you, completely corrupting you - that he hadn’t acted on out of loyalty to your brother, out of the expectation that the drivers should only be with models and not with innocent childhood friends who now worked at the Ferrari engineering team. After all, there were plenty of hot girls throwing themselves at his feet and it was easy enough to pick one, fuck them from the back, and pretending it was your sweet innocent face instead that looked up at him, begging for more.

and oh, did he miss your face, because you had made a point this year to avoid acting like his stupid, lovesick fangirl and move on after catching wind through the Monaco rumour mill of his weekly hookups. You’re a grown woman now, with a job and a new glow up, and you don’t need him!! - or so you keep having to tell yourself.

then, a few months ago, he’s took out his fourth world championship and everyone, including you who had been invited to tag along with your brother, had been sending it in an absolute rager of a yacht party that red bull had thrown when he stumbled upon a whispered conversation you were having with your girlfriends. how can you still be a virgin?? you went through college without a single one night stand? Girl, you need to get dicked down immediately! your best friend’s voice had been slightly raised in shock, making it all to easy for max to overhear and stop outside the secluded room, out of your view. You giggled, drunk, at the scandalized look on your friends face, I know, i know!! I just can’t do it, it all goes too fast for me and i can’t get turned on everytime i try to hook up with guy, ya know? So I’m just going to save myself for when i meet the guy I’m in love with.

your friend gave you a knowing look, a guy you love -meaning max, right? you flushed at her words, adamantly denying it. No! No, I’m so over him. He’s such a player, and always so arrogant just cause he can drive a car fast. Besides, my big bro said max only won the championship by being a dirty driver, he has no class at all. I support Charles now!

your words had instantly made max hard, cause no fucking way, on top of this perfect girl who seemed to always know everything about him, always knew what to say, understood him in a way none of his previous girlfriends ever had - this girl was still a virgin because the only one she was in love with was him? there was no more resolve left in max, he was going to absolutely ruin you. he’d made things difficult for himself by ignoring your attention for so long, to the point you were clearly angry with him and were calling him stupid names like dirty driver. but that didn’t matter. Whatever max wanted, he always got - and right now, with you dancing around his luxurious living room, he was going to take what he wanted - your sweet, virgin pussy - even if you weren’t ready to give it to him so easily. you’d understand later, he was sure. After all, you were always going to be his anyways - claiming your virginity was just his way of marking his territory.

Schat, he calls, drawing your attention back to him and you giddily run back into his arms, laughing in delight as he runs his hands up your waist, to your cute face and tilting your chin up before finally, finally meeting your lips in a sweet kiss. you sigh breathily into it, he feels so good and so warm and so big against you, and you push yourself closer to his muscular chest, your tits flush against him, pulling at his tshirt in an effort to get it off and he breaks free for a second to easily pull it off himself for you. Good girl, my sweet girl, mihn liefje, always so beautiful for me, aren’t you? Your head spins from all the praise max bestows on you, the mixed dutch and english words that you’d only ever dreamt of hearing from him. his palm unexpectedly drops down from your waist then to your juicy ass, squeezing aggressively and you can’t help the gasp that comes out of you. Max immediately slides his tongue into your open mouth, turning the innocent romantic kiss into a dirty, steamy make out - just what you always wanted!! you’re internally squealing in your success, patting yourself on the back for your clever plan. too bad you could never have predicted just how little control you had over the situation and that you were instead exactly where max wanted you ❤️

you trust max soooo much and he’s sooo dreamy and you’re so caught up in him that you can’t keep track of what happens next. you can’t figure out how you suddenly ending up in his lap with his large hand up your miniskirt, pumping a thick finger in and out of your tight little pussy, making loud obscene shlick shlick shlick noises with each movement as he buries it right until you can feel the cool kiss of the metal ring he wears. his other hand is locked around your throat, replacing the sparkly choker you were wearing earlier, and your skimpy white lacey g-string is stuffed in your mouth, already drenched in your drool. but you don’t want to annoy him by asking dumb questions when he’s finally paying attention to you, instead saying please maxie please I’ll be so good as you lean against him and continue to grind your thick ass back against his - phone? you ask dumbly.

he throws his head back and laughs and you get starry eyed hearing it, so entranced that you dont even notice as he unzips himself and takes his thick veiny cock out until he starts filthily slapping it against your little clit, making you squeal and jump away from it with little success as his strong arms cage you from behind against his broad chest.

!! its so big maxie, im scared, it wont fit, please maxie, its all too fast- you start whining frantically when he ever so gently removes your ruined panties from your mouth, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your wet lips, mentally making a note to abuse this hole of yours on the next round.

but schatje, you did this to me, my pretty girl, this is all cuz of you, because you’re always wearin those cute lil’ dresses and bending over and shaking ur ass when I come visit, cuz you were trying to make me jealous tonight by grinding on Charles, and now you have to fix it, right liefdje? Don’t act like this isn’t what you planned, you secretly wanted to be a dirty slut for me all along, didn’t you?

his rough accented voice whispering filthy things in your ear, switching between praise and pure filth, makes you even more whiny and desperate for him, writhing around on his thick thighs and he slaps your plump ass to punish you for teasing him again. His roughness making you squeal, eyes rolling and tongue slipping out of your mouth when one of his thighs, still covered by his denim jeans, part your legs wide open and push up against your sopping wet pussy.

seeing your expression, max doesn’t waste a second in pulling your throat back against his shoulder and dropping a ball of his spit right into your open mouth. he grins when your eyes practically develop hearts in them from the filthy treatment and your pussy flutters around his thick fingers as he renters you with two fingers this time - he always knew you were gonna be such a good, obedient cockdrunk whore for him.

here, don’t worry schat, I’ll be nice for you, jus’, just the tip, okay? He soothes, pressing gentle wet kisses along your exposed neck, lulling you into a false sense of safety so you furiously nod and drool some more when he tells you to be a good girl, his stupid lil slut, and glides the pink, leaking tip of his cock into your folds. Guides it back and forth, up and down, coating himself in your juices until he feels you go completely lax in his arms, overwhelmed by how good he makes you feel. it’s already soo wet and soo sticky but it doesn’t matter cause maxie promised he was wearing a condom…right? Right?

shhh yes schatje, yes, it’s just so wet cuz I - he easily leans forward over your petite, half undressed frame and spits again, this time his saliva landing right on your exposed clit- I’m just making your sweet pussy nice and wet for me, yeah? the pounding in your head gets even worse because ohmygod maxie, it feels soo good, ah, ah, ahh!

you’re in cloud 9, living out your wildest fantasies in max’s lap, so clouded in lust you don’t even look down again when you start to feel an aching stretch between your legs. if you’d looked you would’ve seen that max had already broken his promise and had bullied a good third of his big, aching cock into your pussy. by the time you collect yourself enough to notice how far inside he was and open your mouth to protest, he manoeuvres you off him easily, making you cry out at the loss of him, and lifts you with no struggle and carries you into his bedroom, where the Monaco full moon streams in through open French doors, discarding his pants and boxers on the way. You tightly wrap your legs around his rock hard waist, grinding your desperate pussy against his abs while leaning up to join in another filthy open mouthed kiss, drool leaking out the sides of your mouth.

he tosses you onto his king size bed - you cant believe you’re finally in his bed!! - and holds both your wrists down above your head with one hand, the other snaking down your body, squeezing your tits and pinching your swollen areolas that peeked at him over the edge of your top. Gods, liefje, he groans into your mouth, unable to control himself from saying all the dark things he’d been thinking. how’d i get so lucky, to have the perfect little slut below me, under me like this, desperate to get a taste of my cock, huh? Practically beggin’ me to fuck you. How are you going to explain yourself to your brother, when he asks why you can’t walk tomorrow? Maybe I should just take a photo of you right now and send it to him to save you the trouble. So he knows next time he pisses me off it’ll be his fucking filthy slut of a baby sister who pays the price with her sweet - his fingers travel down, find their way to your clit again, toying with it in well practised circular motions - little - he dips his head downwards, licking a single stripe straight up your pussy to collect your juices before spitting it out all over where his fingers now entered you - needy, pussy?

you can’t stop crying now from how overstimulated you feel from the blinding pleasure, from max’s fingers and tongue knowing exactly how to make you reach your peak and to his toxic words that should shock and scare you but instead just make you more turned on. i’m not- you whine - mmmfph, im not slutty, im a good girl, i- ah! You can’t tell big bro about this, please maxie, I didn’t mean to do this, I - ahh!

your pathetic cockdrunk attempts at denying his claims get cut off as max smirks down at you while speeding up the pace of his fingers which slide in and out easily given how soaked you are. go on, liefje, go on and come on my fingers like a good little girl. show my fingers what it’ll feel like when my cock gets to have your sweet pussy cumming around me instead. Your eyes start to roll back as you approach your first ever orgasm, powerless to stop his other hand which releases your wrists and moves to rip your pathetic excuse of a crop top completely off, flinging it the side, with your cute miniskirt that was bunched up around your waist joining shortly after. max’s dark gaze greedily roams upon your fully exposed form, his cock hardening again at the sight of your tits that heave with every breath you take and your cute, soft little tummy that he now presses down on to while he slides in another thick finger, tipping you over the edge. ah! Ah! Max! Ohmygod, im cumming, ahh! You scream out incoherent noises in pure pleasure, trying to move away from the intense new sensation but max’s large palm, splayed around your waist, easily holds you fixed in place.

good girl, you did so good f’me, sweetheart, max cooes as you start to ride yourself out on the final waves of orgasm on his fingers, now finally adjusted to the stretch. He smirks darkly down at the fucked out, blissful expression on your face as you gaze up at him adoringly with loving eyes. He has you right where he wants you - obedient, eager to please him, ready to say yes to whatever nasty, depraved things he wants to do next to your tight little holes.

withdrawing his fingers from you, eliciting a whine, he brings them up to his mouth and licks away the taste of your cum. You’re immediately breathless by how fucking hot he looks, unable to look away from his eyes as he speaks. Mmm, so sweet schat, you taste so fuckin’ sweet - just how I imagined. Next time I’ll make you cum on my tongue.

omg!! Your pussy flutters around nothing and your heart starts beating rapidly at this revelation from max, he had imagined what eating you out would feel like? max uses your distracted thoughts to grab your hands in his, laying them outstretched by your sides as he intertwines your fingers together. He’s so romantic, you think dreamily, naively unaware that this was the perfect position for him to hold you down while hungrily eyeing your delectable kissable tits and wet pussy as he lowered himself on top of you. You welcome the warm, heavy feeling of his built chest against your soft one as he leans down to recapture your lips in another slow, open mouthed wet kiss, obscene loud slurping noises filling the summer air as you lovingly make out and moan against each others lips.

Too bad max had much darker thoughts on his mind - first of which involved getting his painfully rock hard cock wet inside your virgin pussy!!

Liefje, you trust me right? Trust that I won’t hurt you, I’ll always do what’s best for you? Even if it’s not what you want right now? He asks, pulling back and looking into your innocent large doe eyes. You nod quickly, yes maxie, of course maxie, I trust you, whatever you want, whatever you say is right - you quickly slur, still drunk from the shots you had downed earlier. he was so sweet to make sure you were comfortable making out while naked!! You eagerly chased his lips, making him smugly smirk again at how desperate he’d already made you to feel his tongue again, so eager that you had completely missed the sinister undertone max’s words had had.

those were all the words max needed to fully defile you tonight. Well - if he’s being honest, which he rarely was - he would have taken it all the way even if you hadn’t said so, even if you’d become so overwhelmed by your first orgasm that you had passed out right there on his fingers!! regardless, this worked in his favour to use against you tomorrow morning when you woke up realizing that you couldn’t blame max for anything, only yourself, cuz you had begged and begged him to do whatever he wanted after all. He was just giving you what he knew you secretly desired but were too innocent to ask for ❤️

Recapturing your lips with his, max slowly slides his cocktip into your creamy folds, this time not pausing to stop even once. He drowns out your cute squeals of suprise and discomfort with his large tongue that he shoves down your drooling throat, your fingers weakly trying to push against his but unable to move from where he has locked them into position.

Fuckin’ finally, he moans against your lips as he slides in over halfway, impressed with the way you were managing to keep fairly still against the intrusion for your first time. Max knew he was considering big, especially for your short frame, but here you were taking his dick like a champ. With one last - and this time innocent, kiss, max now tilts his head slightly so he could see your expression. you blink up at him, feeling so stuffed, stupidly voicing that you don’t remember his tip feeling so big earlier, enquiring why he had stopped kissin-

want to see your pretty lil’ face, shatjze, he explains. Want to see what you’ll look like when you see everything I’m going to do you, all the ways I’m going to ruin you for anyone else but me.

you’re looking so delightfully confused now, unsure what he is going to go, and max feels blood rushing to his hard cock with the twisted desire he’s filled with at the fact that you’re so innocent, so naive, so dumb for him that you haven’t realized what he’s planning on claiming from you tonight! You open your mouth to ask but before you can say anything he’s bottomed out completely, his huge cock stretching out your tight little virgin hole. Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open from the impossible stretch, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes - his huge fingers were nothing compared to the size of his cock. max’s head roars in pleasure from seeing the look on your face when he basically splits you in half on him, and he can’t resist spitting another large glob into your open mouth again, smirking as it successfully quietens down the confused, high pitched moans you’d started to make - Max, ah! maxie, you said just the tip, mmfh, you promised, ah! Oh! What about the condo-

Giving you a few minutes to adjust to his size - he wanted to make you addicting to the pleasure of his cock after all, not be scared of it - he idly traces the shape of your swollen, red lips with his broad thumb. shhhh, shhh, snoepje, just relax for me,yeah? Let it happen, this is what you wanted, yeah? To get fucked on my thick cock? That’s what dirty little sluts like you want, isn’t it? It feels sooo much better doing it raw, trust me, you’ll be begging for my cum inside you soon enough…but I’ll pull out, okay schat? I promise.

He smirks when he feels you go weak at his authoritative words, obeying his commands and relaxing as your mind turns gooey from pleasure and you begin moaning obscenely. He allows you to gently remove your hands from his grip and wrap them around his broad shoulders, handing all your power over to him as you go completely blank, ready to be his submissive pet. So- you’re so m-mean, maxie you whine out pathetically with your eyes screwed shut from the feeling of him, tears dripping down your chubby cheeks, making him laugh again. You can take it, schatje. You and your perfect little pussy were made for me. It feels so good, doesn’t it? Letting yourself get completely stuffed my cock?

Still circling your lips gently with his thumb as you nod at his dirty words, Max now slowly pulls his aching cock out of your tight core, making your dazed eyes open at him in confusion a second time. Was that- was that it? Is it done? Your innocent look just drove max wilder. He keeps going under just his tip is left inside you, and then with a sick, twisted smile he slams balls deep back home inside you while shoving his thumb inside your wet mouth. Your scream of pleasure and pain is drowned out by the obscene smack smack smack sounds of his cock fucking into you with a brutal pace, and you choke around his thumb that’s deep in your mouth, gagging on it with more of your shared saliva spilling around your mouth, unable to protest max’s complete betrayal of his earlier promise. Fuck yeah, that’s right babygirl, I’m going to fucking ruin your filthy little pussy, gonna mold it to the shape of my cock so you can only every come around my cock, no one else’s.

max’s mean mean words were just so hot!! He had been holding back, sweet talking you earlier just to trick you into letting him fuck his fat cock into you and you had totally let him. It felt soooo good, you couldn’t even be mad at him for it, your nails digging into his back muscles from the intensity of pleasure as he shifted his hands to your waist, fuckin you dumb up and down on his massive cock, the wet obscene sounds of your shared juices as he slammed into you, shlick shlick shlick, big balls against your juicy ass only making it hotter for you both. thank god he’s gonna pull out, you thought!! If there was so much precum already you couldn’t imagine how much there would be if he came inside, you would have been getting pregnant for sure!

the thought sends you into another dizzying wave of pleasure, and you start babbling all the filthy filthy thoughts that had been buried inside you, just for maxie, as he thrusts into you with that wicked smirk on his face. Mmfhhh, fuck yes maxie, daddy, please please please, it feels soooo good! Ahh! max’s rhythm stutters for a second, caught off guard at the word that you had accidentally slipped out - none of his past gf’s had been quite as dirty mouthed as you - before deciding that it was fucking hot and leaning down to claim your bruised lips in a searing kiss and squeezing a large hand around your throat. Fuck yes, say that again, you dirty fucking slut, say my name-

you has no qualms following Max’s orders, begging daddy please please make me come, mmmdh’make me cum ar-aroun’ your cock, ahh!

max groaned at the vision of you underneath him, looking positively debauched. Your eyeliner was smudged, lipgloss long worn out and lips swollen and bitten, your neck bruised from his hickies and and your perfect tits bouncing with every hard thrust. lifting your legs up around his waist, he fucked into you at a deeper angle, making you scream again in pleasure from his cock and his voice, that got deeper and stronger in his Dutch accent as he got more turned on. Yeah, you like this, huh? You like when daddy fucks you like that, don’t you? Neuken, een vuile slet. Fuck! So good for me, begging for my cock, cause I’m the only one who can do it for you, huh? You like calling me a dirty driver and then screaming my name as I take your virginity, huh? Your eyes widen as his words pierce through your lust addled brain. Maxie, ah, how did you know-ahh!

You’re interrupted by a rough smack on your ass, so strong it renders you speechless - after all, your maxie is the fastest driver on the grid, his grip strength is unparrallelled! answer me, slut he growls, answer me, tell me, does it feel good being my perfect little fuckdoll? When I treat you like the worthless cocksleeve you are? Tell me how much you want my cock in you, beg me for it

your second orgasm starts to rapidly approach you from the positively filthy dirty talk - he knows just how to make your inner whore come out for him. ohmygod yes maxie, yes, it f-feels so so good, please, I need your cock, I need it so bad, I can’t live without it, please maxie- your eyes start to roll back again, tongue drooling and dripping spit down your chin.

Max grins wickedly down at you. Fuck yes, this is exactly what he wanted, so cockdrunk for him there isn’t a single sane thought left within you - and especially not to remember his promise of pulling out. Sensing his own impending finish, he manoeuvres you again, this time by pulling out and flipping you around onto your side, settling down behind you with your legs spread wide, tossed open across his. He bullies his cock into you again, and you throw your head back against his shoulder, moaning and begging again for more more more, yes maxie, only you can do this to me, I saved my virginity just for you, ah! Please please please maxie I need to cum, I need it now!!

Neuken. Max slips into Dutch as you both approach your orgasm, the new position giving him easy access to fondle your tits and circle your clit, his sweaty forehead and matted hair falling onto your neck to place wet kisses along your collarbone. Fuck, this pussy will be the death of me, if only I knew your pussy would be so good t’me, you would’ve been mine a long long time ago.

His fingers drift from your clit and go lower, past his dick sliding in and out of your pussy and circle your hole - your other tight little hole, and you moan wantonly, thrusting back against him - which is an effort considering how he’s controlling the pace, bouncing you like a ragdoll on his cock. He chuckles darkly, next time I’ll take your virginity here too, huh? My lil slut saved all her sweet holes for daddy, right? Fuck! Come all over my fat cock for me, come for me now liefje, let me feel your sweet pussy tightening around me again, fuck yes-

this final promise send you over the edge and you cum together with one final thrust from max, reaching up to pull him forward by his hair and slot your lips together in a sweet kiss as he cums and cums and cums in you. he doesn’t move for a while as you both come down from your high, panting heavily, wanting to plugging your cute lil pussy up, before eventually pulling out when sleep starts to creep in. the wet sound of his copious amount of cum spilling out around your pussy makes you moan tiredly again and max can’t help himself from lightly fingering your pussy again, pushing the cum inside.

You whine, too overstimulated and he chuckles, conceding that you’d had enough for one night. Another time, he promises himself. And next time he’d take a photo to look back at later - a photo with you passed out from exhaustion, with his cum dripping down from your fucked out pussy to your twitching back hole - to jerk off too when he’s away on a race or to send to your brother or Charles if they need a reminder just who you belong too. Who’s he kidding - he doesn’t need a photo, he’ll just keep you by his side at all times, with a big diamond on your finger so it’s clear you’re his.

Pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder, he looks down at you as you tiredly smile at him, starting to doze off. Love you maxie, you whisper easily before passing out, hearing his gentle love you too, mein schat. He wraps you comfortably in his arms after wiping you off with a clean towel.

He should’ve done this a long long time ago. Doesn’t matter now, you were his now, always, and now that he’d marked you he was never, ever letting you go ❤️

—————————————————————————

A/N: yeah so this is just pure smut, idk I have no explanation or defence for this being my first literal post, my apologies to everyone who might need to be doused in holy water after reading this. Hope you enjoyed!

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #formula 1 #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x oc #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #18+ mdni #max verstappen #smut #mv1 #mv33 #mv1 x reader

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crescenthistory · 4 months ago

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2K IS SO WELL DESERVED 💓💓

Please could you analyse a relationship (maybe how it starts/people finding out) between barty and potter!reader or black sister!reader 💓

thank you kindly sweetheart<33 i did poly!bartylus x potter!reader here, so i'm choosing the noble house of black scenario here lols. i loved this one so much, especially dynamic 2, so someone feel free to request a full version once i open my regular requests 🙂↕️🙂↕️

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i will ANALYSE barty crouch jr. with black!sister!reader

carina's 2k celebration

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cw: reference to walburga and orion's excellent parenting (abuse), fem!reader, sibling troubles, precocious barty

regulus was barty's first best friend and he is fiercely loyal to him, to a fault

however, he is loyal within barty's own moral compass, which, as we know, is a quite unique one

meaning he is "if i see you jumping someone, i'm jumping them with you, no questions asked" loyal and "if you are upset, it is my sworn duty to make you feel different" loyal, but he is NOT "your sister is off limits” loyal

which they both find out randomly one day, more or less like this:

"salazar's soggy balls, your sister is proper fit"

"EXCUSE ME?"

queue regulus whacking barty like he's a dog getting reprimanded while barty shrieks and yells some incoherent excuse like "what? she is???"

how it goes from there depends on which dynamic you have with the black brothers

i see two primary ones:

you were either really close with regulus and thus have a more problematic but still close relationship with sirius

OR you really looked up to sirius, which made regulus distance himself for you for periods of time

(the latter one prompts much more angst in the getting together process, naturally – in a good way)

DYNAMIC 1 (regulus centred)

if you and regulus are really close, you would be brought into the slytherin skittles from the get go and thus would have a friends to lovers arc with barty

after regulus whacked barty for drooling over "my baby sister" (you're like. eleven months younger than him.), he keeps an eye on barty

i think barty frankly would not care at all and would continue flirting with you unabashedly

"when have i ever let reg dictate my love/dating/sex life before?"

though he would be saving the more salacious comments for when regulus isn't around

and trust that he would be pursuing spending time with you when regulus isn't around – once he got hung up on you it's almost like a compulsive tic, he just has to be close to you

you would probably be the only one having any moral qualms about it, wondering how regulus would feel and how things might change

as a black sister, you would likely feel like everything good in your life is a hair width's away from falling apart and live in constant fear of that while trying to remain nonchalant

yet barty's pull towards you is far from one-sided – he gives you that calmness in the chaos and chaos in calmness that you craved

only when you nearly have your first kiss in a hallway and you pull away last second talking "what about regulus?" do i think it might register with barty that he could genuinely be upsetting his best friend

prompt the always direct barty more or less marching into his dorm he shares with regulus and evan, declaring: "regulus arcturus black, i love your sister. you have no right giving out blessings, but would you please get behind this, it's upsetting her."

it would be a ROUGH conversation, but regulus knows both of you well enough to know when you're being serious about something

and barty was being deadly serious

after they've talked it through and regulus has said something along the lines of "as long as you promise it's not just a shag, then sure, be my guest. but i want to hear NONE of it", i think he would make a beeline to gryffindor

to find sirius, of course, for once daring seek out his older brother's advice, because it's for their "better third"

"sirius, i need you to calm yourself and not be mad at them because i genuinely need your advice"

it took a LOT of schooling his face for sirius to not rip his eyeballs out at the mention that barty is interested in you, but he kept calm, for regulus

he could tell that he needed it

they talked it all out

it genuinely made regulus feel better and more secure in it, but the second he left the room, sirius turned around crying to james in the exact same way

queue sirius pulling barty aside the next day to borderline threaten him to not mistreat you

and for YOU to then pull SIRIUS aside and have an angsty sibling confrontation of "is it more important to you to go to him first and be all protective, instead of to me and offer any support or congratulations?"

i think regardless of if you have a troubled relationship for a while, he still sees you as his whole world; something to take care of

so he would nod his head, properly reprimanded and give you the first hug you've shared in a while

barty is by FAR sirius' least favourite in-law and barty adoreeeees that fact, loving to rub it in

you'll have to gently be like "babe, please" to have him calm down and not agitate sirius (and by consequence regulus) too much

it was chaotic but just right

DYNAMIC 2 (sirius centred)

you grew up always looking up to sirius – he's three years older, so the perfect age for you to think everything he does is so cool

you were still relatively young when everything went down with sirius and walburga, so you had a slightly more coloured image and fuzzy memories surrounding the abuse at home

less resentment, more uncertainty towards your parents while still idolising sirius, at least for a while

i think sirius in any dynamic considers his sister his "baby" to some degree, partly because you were the youngest, partly because of his upbringing presenting women as someone to be taken care of – and largely because you let him baby you, unlike regulus

you saw sirius as more of an authority figure than you ever did regulus and he always felt safer than your parents, so when you had nightmares as a child, sirius was the one who could soothe you the best

when you were anxious, he was the one who could talk you out of it, tether you to the earth

sirius saw you as more innocent and less tainted than him, so you could in return make him feel a bit better, a bit more like he had a purpose

i think this dynamic would make regulus very resentful of the both of you

yet another example of him being the second option, of him not measuring up, etc. -> in regards to both you and sirius

in regulus' mind, you were the better younger sibling and sirius was the better older sibling – regulus was alone

so he isolated himself more and more from the both of you as he grew up in a misguided act of self-protection

to the extent that when you started hogwarts, you were never introduced to his friends

i think they asked about you when you finally started hogwarts, but he brushed it aside so assertively that they dropped it

this is in stark contrast to sirius' marauders who happily brought you along more often than not

you were not really a part of their friend group, more so that you became everyone's honorary little sister while you established yourself your own good friends within your house and year

sirius would meet you at every breakfast, even if only to ruffle your hair and kiss your head while you groaned, embarrassing you in front of your friends

you knew of who regulus' friends were and you saw him around often, but it had been made clear to you not to engage

i think it would be the kind of situation where regulus implied you stay away, which hurt you and made you stay away, which in turn hurt him – the cycle goes on

so you never really got to know them beyond their reputations and sirius' complaints about them

until around your fifth year when you would meet barty in some capacity (same class because you were excelling above your year, same secluded area of hogsmeade, etc.)

you hit it off massively, bantering back and forth in a way that makes barty feel both challenged and seen

his interest is piqued

after which is when he makes the comment to regulus about how he finds you "proper fit"

this time, regulus loses his mind over it not because it's his baby sister, but because of his resentment, jealousy and even fear that you would be taking someone else away from him

he would not be making sense to barty, reverting back to his younger and more hurt self before stalking off

if barty, evan or even dorcas tried to bring it up to regulus afterwards, he would just say "let's not talk about her/them" curtly

he only spoke to pandora about it and she kept quiet to the others, respecting his space and boundaries

in this instance, it would be clear to barty that his interest in you was not okay, but it didn't subside

on the contrary, it only continued blazing and he kept meeting you often, mostly by coincidence – but he stayed on purpose

you think nothing much of it before regulus angirly stalks up to you when he sees you chatting in the hallway, roughly grabs your arm to haul you away and whispers something along the lines of "you have sirius. you got sirius, you can't take barty too"

queue massive sibling fight that barty eventually has to get involved in, ignoring the sound of his breaking heart

while you often ignored each other, the tension that arose between you and regulus was now palpable and uncomfortable

you were hurt regulus viewed you the way he did and always competed with you – why did he care so much for sirius' love and not yours?

regulus was hurt because he felt abandoned yet again – both by barty, but also you because he loved you and missed you

having no idea what to do, i think barty would be forced to do the one thing he had sworn to himself, any god he occasionally spoke to and regulus he would never do:

he willingly went to speak with sirius black

"believe me, i don't want to do this any more than you do, but i don't think they can get over this on their own"

i think barty might be able to articulate how regulus feels like the "odd one out" of the siblings and show sirius that regulus' standoffishness is just years of pain schooled away and not him being an aloof bother

which sirius knows but has never been able to work past regardless, not before it was presented to him like this

and while sirius would still be disturbed by it, i think this might be the only way to make him understand that barty loves you – because there was no other word but love for the pull he felt towards you, the emptiness he felt without you

the two of them would plot and scheme to get you and regulus in the same room at the same time, locking all four of you inside

when they begin to try and start a civil conversation, you and regulus are on the offensive and hostile

it is when you burst out something along the lines of "why do you hate me?" that regulus' face falls

"i could never hate you."

it would be an even rougher talk, but you are able to understand each other's pain at last

"i never meant to take him away from you, i never meant to take anything away from you. i just want to be part of your life again."

"it's never felt like i deserve a spot in your life, though. like you want me there."

"regulus there is not a day that i don't wish you were sat beside me."

loooooooong awaited hug

barty and sirius would have stepped back as mediators once the first realisation set in between you, watching while leaning on a desk from afar, feeling oddly united for a moment

at last, regulus would murmur: "do you love him"

you looked at barty for a long time before looking back to regulus with a quivering lip, despite knowing the answer

"only if you'll let me. only if you'll be okay with it."

and though a part of him might still be scared and kicking and screaming, he would use all of his big brother love to pull you close, kiss you on the forehead and whisper repeatedly "it's alright, it's alright. i'm sorry, it's alright."

barty held it together well for regulus' sake, but the second he was left alone with you he swept you up in the closest embrace

"i'm so proud of you"

not only are you the most compelling, bewitching, well, witch he had ever met, but you seemed to be the one person capable of piecing his best friend back together

went through hell to be a match made in heaven

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woundlight · 1 year ago

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okay so. does anybody remember this creepy image? and yes, it's real, by the way.

this is barnard 68, a dark nebula that does not allow light to pass through. it's quite close to us too, and so dense that the stars behind it can't be observed from earth. it's just a molecular cloud, though! looks like a tear in the fabric of existence itself, but it's just a very big dark blob of gas floating in space. barnard 68 is often confused with the boötes void, which is also referred to as "the great nothing".

what's that, you say? oh, well... it's a region in space about 330 million light years wide. this is about 0.27% of the width of the entire observable universe. an area this large is expected to have around 2000 galaxies, but this one only has 60. everything else is just... dead, empty space.

okay, what if i told you that we actually are within a void ourselves? it's called the kbc void. another name is uhh.. local hole. anyways. it's theoretically the largest void we know of, about 2 billion light years across. it's extremely speculative, but it might account for the hubble tension; that is, shit seems to be flying away from us faster than it should be.

some people claim other things cause the discrepancy in our observations of the hubble constant, some debate whether it's consistent with our current cosmological model at all. it isn't completely accepted by the astrophysics community, but it's not a preposterous claim to make either. i personally think it's cool.

maybe shit does fly away faster from us because we live in a local hole. the rest of the universe is an intergalactic party, and we're not invited.

#space #astronomy #science #stars #galaxy #outer space #cosmos #researchposting #🫀

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saintagron · 8 days ago

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camp counselors.

natalie scatorccio x reader. cw. weed, mentions of death, mentions of arrest. schizophrenic episode mentioned but i tried to skirt around it bc i have little to no knowledge on the topic. an. inactivity hurts... but ap exams and final projects are kicking my ass. so. here's natalie while i dream of summer.

Camp Green Pine isn’t exactly the first place someone would pick to spend their summer. Its majority population is kids under twelve, high off of being away from home for a few months out of the year and not quite old enough to sink into teenaged angst of hating everything and anything—including sleep-away camp.

And you, yes you, are one of its ever-so-illustrious counselors. You get to chase over-enthusiastic children, most of which are away from home for the first time, around a massive swath of grassy clearing and through dense woods. For a whole summer, too! Aren’t you lucky.

But the camp’s great, really—despite your frequent (and needed) intervention with the kids. You grew up there, spending summers holed up in the teetering bunks that seemingly shrunk until you realized it was just you growing. You’re not quite sure how your family knows Miss Matthews, whether she’s twined to your family by blood or marriage or a platonic bond so deep-rooted she’s your de-facto aunt. But she’s there, and she’s tall and willowy and smells of sweet flowers, so you’ve always loved her.

She offered you the job when you were barely teetering at adulthood’s edges. Let a seventeen-year-old watch a bunch of elementary schoolers, that’ll go great. But her trust seemed to be founded. You did well—better than well, despite being the rookie, due to the help of all your early-twenties now-coworkers.

Now you’re freshly eighteen, just off of graduation and out of school’s clutches—if only for a few months, before you pack off to university in the fall. Rapid changes are afoot, and the future distance between you and your family makes your heart squeeze painfully, so you return for one last summer in that nostalgic, constant place.

ᰔ

Unpacking there isn’t the big, upending task you imagine university will entail. It’s one backpack and a small suitcase, dragging slightly crooked behind you due to its old, broken wheel. It’s your cabin, the only solo one due to the counselors’ odd number, given to you by “chance,” because Charlotte would never admit favoritism. It’s—

A girl. A blonde, bleached, with half-an-inch of dark roots peeking. A girl, laying in one of the beds, face down and her limbs spread like she’s been flattened. You can’t tell if she’s asleep, so you sneak to the other bed, easing your bag over your shoulder and flinching when your case’s broken wheel catches on a floorboard and tumbles loudly, plastic against wood. Shit.

The girl stirs with a start, head jerking up from where it was buried in her arms. Her gaze, sharpened despite her recent unconsciousness, shoots to meet yours with a sort of panicked width to them. “...hi.” Your voice is awkward and slightly strangled. You’re not used to people your age being here; usually it's twenty-somethings looking for a summer job or experience for their resume, if they’re education majors. But this girl is young, as you are, with the stubborn curve of baby fat clinging to her otherwise slim cheeks.

She grumbles something that could be interpreted as a greeting, forehead falling back into the cradle of her biceps. Her next sentence is a bit clearer, but it catches you off guard for the second time.

“...so what did you do to end up in this shithole?” Her voice is slightly muffled by fabric, but the words are clear��spoken with an easy sort of rasp that instinctively makes you straighten.

“I… work here?”

“...you’re shitting me.” She rolls over, head hanging over the edge of the mattress. Even upside down, her gaze is striking. “You’re the scout Mrs. Matthews was talking about?”

The already straight-set to your spine stiffens, bristling much like a cat would.

“I wasn’t a scout. And it’s Miss Matthews. Or just Charlotte.” You busy yourself with unpacking, setting your things next to the old, sturdy dresser that’s eased against the wall. Before your gaze turns away, you catch the curious, much-to-observational purse to the girl’s lips.

“..she has a ring.” That makes you bite your lip. Shit. The flesh splits, your skin giving under the harsh pressure of your teeth. You wince, lapping at the blood that pearls.

“Well, she’s not married.” You’re well aware you’re being snippy, and it’s not the best first impression to give when you have to spend the rest of the summer sleeping four feet away from them, but it’s a painful line of questioning you’d rather not go down. The girl seems to recognize it, and doesn’t say another word about it.

“...I’m Natalie.” The rasp is softer now, the introduction settling on the front of her tongue. Your mouth plays around the syllables, before sharing your own name with her.

You don’t push about what she did. She doesn’t push about Charlotte. But they settle between the two of you uncomfortably until you turn away, splintering the interaction with a huff.

ᰔ

With Natalie here, the summer is… different. You’re not sure if it’s bad, not yet, but it’s certainly odd. You’re used to being the youngest, respected for your experience but still ruffled and pushed like a sibling. Now you have someone your age around to snicker with as the others run around like headless chickens after the all-too energetic campers.

“God, they really have no idea how to work with kids.” You mumble, leaned back against one of the soaring pines the camp is named for. Natalie sits near your feet, knees curled up. Her fingers tap consistently, almost anxiously. There’s a tightness to her expression but an ease to her smile, so you don’t question it.

“Yeah. They’re not great.” She huffs, her head lolling back against the pine’s rough bark. The heat of your thigh sears close to her hair, the skin close and exposed. You can feel the tickle of the bleached strands, the nearness a pressure you’re not used to yet.

“They’ll get better.” Your voice is soft with memory–remembering those from last year who did not return. “They always do.”

ᰔ

Another thing you discover: Natalie is good with kids. She has this dismissive attitude that makes them flock to her, always beneath her feet and tugging at her shirt and copying her lazy gait. And with all the stock she’s put into being a “cool guy,” she’s awfully quick to shed it at the first opportunity.

She’ll scoop up a second grader when you’re out at the lake, eagerly filling the spot as the other anchor for shoulder wars—sun-warmed and pretty in the provided green one-piece, smiling at you as the kid pulls her hair like she’s a puppet. She’s determined to beat you but doesn’t let competition cloud her judgement, scolding for bad sportsmanship. She even scolds you, but much more physically than she does the kids—shoving your pout into the water and leaving you sputtering in the face of her laughter.

She’ll join teams for relays, capture-the-flag, whatever games you play. But, you find, she’s especially good at soccer. Soccer she kills at, eventually setting up little workshops where she runs footwork and shooting drills. Somehow, she even roped Charlotte into one. You haven’t seen Charlotte so happily breathless in a long time.

She even takes up the mantle she mocked relentlessly, taking up the acoustic guitar from the less-than-capable boy who wielded it to coolly strum out the needed chords. (She still refuses to sing.)

Natalie seeps into the community like a well-stirred concrete, filling cracks you didn’t even know existed. She’s a jaded addition you didn’t know you needed. And having a bunk mate was pretty cool, once you finished mourning your solitude. Throughout the stress of college applications and exams, you forgot what it was like to truly relax. She truly brought it, if with… unconventional methods.

You weren’t sure what Charlotte’s stance on drugs was—goodness knows she probably dabbled, given how she dressed and the serene way she went about every day—but she’d probably advise against smoking in the wooden cabins. Whoops. You didn’t intend to, not really. But when Natalie tugged out a tin and rolled a blunt for herself, stating that it’s been forever, you’re tempted enough to slink over to her bed and press close for a hit.

“Leech.” She huffs, but it’s half-a-laugh, so you continue to crawl closer. “Nata-lie…”

“Don’t.” The bite in it is faux, molar’s broad grind instead of canine sharpness. Her lips twitch and tick around the blunt, her mouth emptying from the word before filling with smoke.

You ignore her command, slip into her lap. It’s easy, when the word lands like a desperate bid for stability. She wants, the brick wall keeping it contained crumbling at your warmth.

She tightens further as your thumb plays over her lower lip.

“Please, Natalie?” Your simpering faux-pout makes something in her eyes crack. There’s no strength there—you have to gather the pieces of her up and keep her upright. Your lips press to hers, already opening in expectation of her exhale.

“Stealing my pot.” She mumbles after she’s exhaled, and the laugh that catches in your chest doesn’t mix well with the burn of the smoke. You choke, cough, and she thumps you on the back with a laughed curse. “Shit. Careful.”

“Messing me up. Give me another hit.” You huff, and she raises the blunt to your lips with a bare scoff—already relenting before the burn of challenge can sear beneath her ribs.

It hasn’t hit you yet, the high—in a few minutes it might be curling through you, pushing your rationality to the wayside. Now, you still have the mind to exhale away from her, tilt your head up and away to watch the smoke dance in the air. She takes the opportunity to latch onto your neck, teeth scraping and mouth hot.

“Natalie.” You exhale, arms falling around her neck—careful to hold the burning blunt away from her body. She presses closer, hands digging into your sides with a force, as if you’d ever try to pull away.

“Stop saying my name like—“ the words devolve into a groan, vibrating against your skin and catching desperately in her chest.

“Like I want you?” You huff, hand tugging her hair hard enough to make her detach. She’s glossy-eyed, her lips not yet swollen but still pink with the evidence of you. “I want you, Natalie.”

“Stop talking.” And it’s just a little bit desperate, the way she licks at the seam of your lips. Presses in and past it, like splitting you open like this would somehow expose the sour core of you. All she’ll find is warm, soft flesh and a pulsating heart. She groans when she does—tugs you further into her lap, the grip of her hands wild.

“Please.”

You laugh, but not cruelly. It’s almost delighted, lips pulling wide around a toothy smile. Words are lost in it. Articulation isn’t necessary—not when the air hums, sticky with summer and bubbling intimacy. You attempt to, regardless, because you’ve never seen someone with a girl in their lap look quite so pained.

“I’m telling you the truth. I want you, okay?” Her chin tips under your guiding hand, tugging it until her eyes flicker to meet yours. She’s slightly red-eyed, lids drooping. When she nods you mirror it, raise the now-stubby blunt to her lips so she can take one last inhale.

The view’s heat is so intoxicating. You don’t notice how the paper sears your fingers until she tugs it out from between your fingers, brow worryingly furrowed. Her mouth opens around words, but they’re left unsaid as someone pounds at your cabin’s door.

“Wakey, wakey, esteemed counselors! Some kid got himself stuck on the roof. We all tried, now it’s your turn.”

Roof of what, where, how—you can’t puzzle it. Especially not while (admittedly, very mildly) high. But you’re sure they got themselves into a truly mind-boggling situation. Happens every year. You should just ban truth-or-dare at this point.

“You signed up for this, scout.” Natalie gruffs, and pushes you off her lap. Anything affronted you might say melts into a groan.

ᰔ

It was bound to come out sometime. Big secrets only stay under wraps for so long. They fester, grow, no matter how hard you try to ignore them.

Corpses under white sheets still rot.

ᰔ

Charlotte has an episode. It comes out of nowhere. She’d been withdrawing for weeks, yes, but you just assumed it was because—

Well. It seems you were wrong.

It was a normal morning, the day it happened. You awoke at dawn to the deafening sounds of the morning birds, Natalie heavy and warm and half-draped across you. Rising was slow, the weekend granting time off from activities and only mild wrangling of the children. Charlotte wasn’t at breakfast, but she takes morning tea in the greenhouse occasionally. Nothing to worry about.

Even when a counselor comes, whispering questions about her whereabouts, you’re unburdened until they confess they searched everywhere. The greenhouse, her cabin, the activities hall—every place in the camp, tree’s roots to the canopy's top, and no hint of her. That is what makes your blood run cold. In that moment you set off yourself—and Natalie, seeing the deep furrow between your brows, follows without a word.

ᰔ

It’s been five years since Aunt Lee died. She insisted you call her that—it was all you could pronounce when you were young. “Lee! Lee!” you’d babble, and she’d kneel down with the sun in her smile and scoop you up, no matter what. Then you’d be shadowed by Charlotte—Aunt Lottie, then—her long limbs like redwoods compared to your childish ones. You’d latch onto her regardless, and that was how their visits went—you clinging to one or the other.

You were old enough to comprehend what Aunt Lee being gone meant. You’d allowed your mother to swaddle you in black without complaint and clung tight to Charlotte’s hand as you both gave your last goodbyes. The tears, fat and hot, on your face mirrored her own, and you found solace in it. It’s easier to process grief when you’re allowed to express it, unrestricted. And Charlotte’s own emotion was an invitation, one that led you into her heart.

So you know now. More than the rest, where she’ll be.

Your feet carry you down a remarkably untravelled path through the pines. It’s largely uncarved, ferns still soft and intact. Each root and divot is familiar to your fastened feet. You cling to Natalie’s hand as she stumbles, her few weeks of living here leaving her still unaware of how to mold her feet to the forest’s earth.

She doesn’t ask where you’re going—never says a word. Just follows. Her shoulders are as stiff as yours are, if laced with a bit more anxiety. She doesn’t know what’s happening.

You didn’t want Natalie to find out this way. Not that it’s shameful—it just isn’t your secret to tell. This is a conversation Charlotte guided you through, anxious and fidgeting like a girl. It’s information she spilled vulnerably, opening herself up to let you see the deepest roots so you’d never be unaware. She should’ve been the one to do it, if she chose to.

ᰔ

When you reach a clearing, you stop abruptly. Natalie knocks against your back, efforts just slightly slow, her elbow clanging into yours.

“—What?” You shake your head, press your fingers to her lips—her further questioning cut off.

“Stay here, Natalie.” She waits and watches as you approach Charlotte; the tall woman’s limbs are bundled around herself. Though she seems peaceful, her dark eyes are wide, pupils blown with a yawning darkness. You crouch down, voice lowered and soft around the edges. “Hey, Aunt Lottie.”

She reaches for you then; her hand presses around your shoulder, curling you closer until your knees knock. “Do you think she’s here? I can feel her but I—I’m not sure.”

There’s no question of who she is. Your lip slips, already split from your worried gnawing, back between your teeth. Childhood habit. “...I’m not sure. I don’t think so.” You breathe, hand curling over her own. She slackens, enough so you can maneuver and press her knuckles into your cheek. “I miss her too, y’know.”

Charlotte doesn’t say a word—just curls you closer and dampens your hair with tears. Your own seep into her kaftan as you sink down to lay in the ferns. She speaks up after a few moments, hoarse and overwhelmed. “I saw her this morning. She told me to come find her. I thought—I thought maybe…”

“...I don’t think so.” You repeat softly; you’ll probably croak before you stop reassuring her and, inadvertently, yourself. Your throat aches with the old, bubbling grief. “I know. I’m really, really sorry.”

ᰔ

Natalie corners you afterwards–after you’d risen and walked Charlotte back to her cabin, helped her into bed and promised to stay. She didn’t interrupt as you sat there, holding Charlotte’s hand until she fell asleep. Instead she lingered in the doorway, a wary mass of worry and caution—a storm cloud that follows you until you sigh and address it, halfway into your own cabin.

“Yes, Natalie?”

“...you didn’t tell me she was your aunt.” It’s mumbled like she’s feeling petulant, but there’s an acceptance to it—that same one forged that first day. You didn’t ask her, she didn’t ask you. And now it seems you’ll be laying it all out after all. You’d think that you’d be furtive—such a confession is raw, and when coupled with others’ inexperience in grief it can bring oppressive, coddling sympathy. But Natalie is just as burdened, and so it curls from your mouth with little more than a slight hesitation.

“...she is. She’s—she was married to my Aunt Laura. She passed about five years ago. Cancer—bone cancer.” Chondrosarcoma. You don't think that word will ever leave you—it's seared into every neuron so deeply the char marks are more familiar than anything else. You have to cling to a piece of her somehow.

Natalie looks pensive, slightly awkward—the vulnerability seeping into the cool girl’s gashes, those hastily covered and improperly treated—before she blurts out an equal confession, though hurried and ineloquent.

“...I killed my dad.” It pauses between you. Her shoulders sag, then tighten. The motion would be imperceptible if you didn’t spend two months staring at her (while she pretended not to notice.) “I mean, I didn’t—it was an accident. But people think I killed my dad.”

“...they gave you community service at a kids summer camp for murder?” That makes her laugh—a clumsy exhale startled out of her.

“No, no.” She stutters over the words through her laughter. “Just… I might’ve gotten drunk and broken into an abandoned factory. And got caught.”

“You’re stupid.” is what falls from you automatically, met by her “You’re stupid.” that’s just as light and bubbling with her deep chuckle.

“...gotta say, I think yours takes the cake.” You mutter, a baffled shake of your head following. B&E, and a reciprocal death. Not that it’s a competition.

Somehow, Natalie thinks it is. Or jumps on the competition aspect as a means to get some sort of prize.

“So what do I win?” It’s enough to make you snort. A tug to her collar, and she’s pulled close—another, and she’s half-curled on top of you as you sink back to sit on the mattress, beds long-since pushed together.

“My phone number. And maybe a kiss, if you’re lucky.”

“You want to keep in contact?” She breathes, already looking beautifully affected—lidded eyes and parted mouth.

“Obviously. And to think I thought you were cool.” There’s no time to be indignant; not when you tug her in so close she’s got no choice but to laugh into your mouth.

#⟡ saint's.#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x y/n #natalie scatorccio #natalie yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x you #natalie x reader #natalie x you

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faithschaoschronicles · 4 months ago

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Fire and Ice||Ridoc Gamyln x GN!Reader

Summary — Ridoc and Y/n love to tease Xaden and Violet while ignoring their own feelings until Xaden calls them both out.

Reader is a fire wielder and their dragons name is Cináed and he’s a green dagger tail.

Word count — 954

No Spoilers in this!!

The flight field buzzed with the usual post-training chaos. Dragons stretched out on the scorched ground, riders sparred, and the low hum of casual banter filled the air. Ridoc sat perched on the edge of a rock , juggling a chunk of ice between his hands like he had all the time in the world.

“You know,” he drawled, tilting his head toward Xaden and Violet, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear the two of you are this close to announcing your engagement.” He held up his fingers a hair’s width apart.

Violet’s head snapped up from where she was adjusting her riding straps, her eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about, Ridoc?”

“Oh, come on,” Ridoc replied, his grin widening. “The constant bickering, the broody stares, the way you always stand just close enough that if someone accidentally pushed you, you’d fall into his arms—it’s like watching the opening act of a bad romance novel.”

Y/N, standing beside him, stifled a laugh. Ridoc was relentless, but he wasn’t wrong. “He’s got a point. The dramatic tension alone is exhausting to witness.”

Violet’s mouth opened, but Xaden cut her off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, right, because you and Ridoc are the picture of self-awareness. Good to know you’ve got such a handle on relationships.”

Ridoc’s smirk didn’t falter, though his stomach twisted at the dig. “Touche, Riorson, but I don’t recall this being about me. Maybe I should keep track of your bickering for research purposes —Riorson and Sorrengail: A Study in sexual tension and bickering Violet turned fully to face him, her arms crossed. “We do not bicker!”

Ridoc raised his eyebrows, leaning slightly toward Y/N. “You hear this, too? Are we both hallucinating the daily arguments? Is it something in the water?”

Y/N snorted, shaking their head. “No hallucinations. I distinctly remember Violet calling Xaden a ‘condescending tyrant’ this morning. Very poetic, by the way.”

Xaden scowled, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t being condescending. I was being logical, which is a foreign concept to some people.”

“Oh, please,” Violet shot back, her face flushing. “You just hate when anyone disagrees with you. Admit it.”

“Me? Disagree? You’re the one who—”

Ridoc groaned loudly, cutting Xaden off. “Gods above, stop flirting in front of us! It’s unbearable.”

Xaden’s dark gaze swung to him. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Gamlyn. Considering…” He trailed off, his tone going from sharp to smug in an instant.

Ridoc froze, the sarcastic comeback dying on his lips. “…Considering what?”

Xaden leaned casually against the railing, his smirk more lethal than usual. “Considering that you and Y/N are just as bad, if not worse. At least Violet and I aren’t in denial about our feelings.”

Y/N blinked, heat creeping up their neck. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Violet, clearly enjoying this turn of events, chimed in with a laugh. “Oh, I love this. Please continue, Xaden.”

Xaden didn’t need further prompting. “It means that every time you’re around each other, it’s like watching a storm trying to figure out if it’s going to snow or catch fire. And it’s loud—mentally speaking.” He tapped his temple. “The constant internal monologues are deafening.”

Ridoc coughed, the air around him cooling significantly. “I don’t know what you think you’re hearing, but I’m pretty sure you’ve hit your head one too many times, Riorson.”

“Really?” Xaden’s smirk grew sharper. “Because I distinctly remember hearing you mentally workshop a terrible pun ‘no wonder y/n is a fire wielder they are so hot’’ this morning.”

Y/N whipped around, their faces burning hotter than their flames. “You what?”

Ridoc opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Great. Just fantastic. Thank you, Riorson. Appreciate you airing my internal cringe for everyone to hear.

Xaden wasn’t done. “And Y/N? You’re not much better. ‘Why does his stupid smirk have to be so distracting?’ ‘Why does he have to look so good when he’s being annoying?’ Shall I go on?”

Ridoc tried to laugh it off, though his heart was pounding. “Wow, Xaden, ever think about a comedy career? Killing it with this routine.”

Y/N crossed their arms, glaring at Ridoc. “Is he right? Did you think that?”

Ridoc faltered, his usual sarcasm nowhere to be found. “Okay, look. Maybe Xaden’s not entirely wrong, but—”

“But what?” Y/N pressed, stepping closer.

Ridoc sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt the air grow warmer as Y/N’s body heat flared faintly. “But you don’t get it, Y/N. You’re… you. Smart, sharp, stubborn as hell. And me? I’m just the class clown. I didn’t think I even had a chance.”

Y/N’s heart skipped at the admission. For all of Ridoc’s jokes and teasing, there was something achingly sincere in his voice. “Ridoc, you idiot,” they said softly. “I’ve been trying to hide it, too.”

Ridoc blinked, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Wait. Are you saying…?”

Y/N rolled their eyes, stepping even closer until their warmth clashed with his chill. “Yes, Ice Boy. I like you. Are you going to do something about it, or should I?”

Ridoc’s grin turned playful, though his eyes were softer than usual. “I’d hate to step on your dramatic moment, Firefly, but…” He reached out, frost curling lightly over his fingertips.

Y/N grabbed his hand, the warmth melting the ice instantly. The spark that passed between them was undeniable.

Ridoc’s dragon Aetrom sighed heavily. “Finally. I was starting to think they’d combust from sheer tension.”

Y/N’s dragon Cináed rumbled in agreement. “Humans are so slow when it comes to their feelings”

Aetrom lets out a huff “painfully slow.”

#ridoc gamlyn #ridoc fourth wing #ridoc x reader #Ridoc Gamyln fluff #Ridoc Gamyln imagine #Ridoc Gamyln onshot #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing fluff #iron flame x reader #iron flame

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diamonddaze01 · 4 months ago

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고맙다

pairing: ljh x reader genre: hurt-comfort (kae im sorry) | wc: 1.4k warnings: none | rating: pg a/n: for my 400 follower celebration -> @ylangelegy lyrics lab + “i wanted to become your tomorrow so i lived in the today” (thanks) // this is a (kind-of) spin off to us, again (but can be read alone) // kae i am sorry dont hurt me it ends well i swear.

The rain was soft but constant, like a whisper that hadn’t yet learned to quiet down. The sound of it tapping gently against the windows filled the silence of Jihoon’s studio, his hands frozen mid-task as he watched you from the doorframe. You stood there, not quite sure whether to step inside or remain in the hallway, as if the space between you and him was more than just the width of the door.

It had been months. Maybe half a year? Jihoon had lost track of time the moment you’d asked for a break. The day he left your apartment was still a vivid blur, a moment he replayed in his mind over and over, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. There were a thousand reasons why he’d never reached out. A thousand excuses he fed himself to make it feel like it was just something that had to happen. But in the deepest part of his chest, the place where he kept all the things he wouldn’t say aloud, he still missed you. He still felt your absence every time he walked into the studio, every time he poured a cup of coffee, every time he sat down to write music.

And now you were standing there, a few feet away from him. The ghost of what once was, the thing he’d never let himself forget.

“Can we talk?” Your voice was a little shaky, but you stood there with an open vulnerability, as if you had prepared for this moment even though you were uncertain of the outcome. Your eyes darted between his, as though you were trying to gauge how much of him was still the person you once knew, and how much of him had changed.

Jihoon didn’t respond right away. He didn’t know if he could, not without giving in to the feeling creeping up his throat. The one that said maybe, just maybe, you were still something worth fighting for.

“What’s there to talk about?” he finally muttered, his tone a little too cold, a little too detached. He wasn’t sure how else to respond. He had spent so long building walls around himself, convincing himself that you weren’t a part of his present anymore. He couldn’t afford to let that slip.

You took a step forward, your eyes soft with uncertainty. “I don’t know, Jihoon. Maybe... maybe I’m just trying to figure out what happened.”

There it was—the thing he never let himself think about too much. You asking what happened was like peeling back a scab that had barely healed. He couldn’t ignore the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him when you brought it up, couldn’t ignore the fact that he had failed you in ways he hadn’t even fully realized until now.

Jihoon looked away for a moment, unwilling to meet your gaze directly. He knew what you wanted—what you were hoping for—but he didn’t know how to give it to you. The pieces of him that had been holding onto you were all tangled up in regret. “What happened?” he repeated softly, almost to himself. “I don’t know. I thought maybe if I... kept my distance, kept working, it would get easier. But I was wrong. I guess we were wrong.”

Your face softened, as if your heart had just cracked open a little, just enough to let him see it. “I thought about it, Jihoon. About what we were, what we could have been,” you said quietly, stepping closer, just enough to bridge the gap but not enough to make him feel cornered. “And I thought maybe... maybe I wasn’t the right person for you, or maybe you weren’t the right person for me. But now, standing here, I don’t think I can just keep pretending that’s how it works.”

Jihoon let out a shaky breath, his fingers gripping the edge of his desk as he tried to find words that wouldn’t sound weak. The truth was, he hadn’t wanted to admit how much he missed you. How much he had wanted to fight for you, but had kept telling himself that time would heal everything. That you were just another chapter in his life that needed to be closed, but the more he tried to lock it away, the more it kept coming back.

“I kept thinking... maybe if I just moved forward, if I just stayed focused on what’s next, I’d stop wanting you. I’d stop thinking about you. But that’s not how it works, is it?” His voice was softer now, as if all the bravado had slipped away, leaving only the truth.

You shook your head slowly, the motion so familiar, so comforting, that Jihoon almost didn’t want to look away. “No, it’s not. We never really... gave ourselves a chance to be in the present, Jihoon. We kept thinking about the future, about what we could become. But maybe... maybe we should’ve just focused on today. On what we were, what we still could be.”

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. There it was—the words he had never been brave enough to speak. The ones that had been sitting at the back of his mind, waiting to be freed. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words feeling heavier than they should. “I never gave you the chance to be with me like that. I thought I had time, thought I had all the time in the world to make things right, but... now I don’t know how to do that.”

Your eyes softened, but there was something else in them, something deep that he couldn’t quite read. You took a deep breath, as though you had made up your mind about something, and it was in that moment that Jihoon realized you had never really stopped caring. Not even after everything.

“I was so focused on tomorrow,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain, “that I forgot to appreciate the moments we had, the moments that mattered right now.”

Jihoon swallowed hard, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Maybe I did the same.”

You stepped closer, closing the space between you both, and this time, Jihoon didn’t hesitate. He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, the touch almost tentative, as if waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, your fingers intertwined, and for the first time in months, everything felt... right. Not perfect, not neatly wrapped in a bow, but real.

Jihoon’s eyes dropped to where your hands held his. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “Can I kiss you?”

The question caught you off guard, and a tear slipped down your cheek as a soft, incredulous laugh bubbled out of you. “Yes, you idiot,” you said, your voice breaking as you reached for him. “Please kiss me.”

And then his lips were on yours. The kiss wasn’t hurried or desperate—it was grounding, steady, and filled with all the things neither of you had the courage to say aloud. Your warmth, the familiarity, the way your hand cradled his cheek—it was everything he hadn’t realized he missed.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breaths mingling with your own. “I missed you,” he murmured, the words so quiet they almost melted into the sound of the rain.

You smiled through your tears, your hands still resting lightly on his cheeks. “I missed you too, Jihoon.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, the silence between you no longer heavy, but comforting.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Jihoon asked, his voice quiet, almost unsure. He wasn’t expecting an answer, but he needed to hear it, needed to know if there was a chance for them.

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with something like hope, but also like you knew it wasn’t going to be easy. “We take it one step at a time,” you said softly. “We don’t rush. We just... we just live in today. Together.”

Jihoon nodded slowly, the truth of it settling in his chest like a quiet storm. He had spent too long living in the what-ifs and the could-have-beens. Maybe it was time to stop looking ahead, to stop worrying about tomorrow, and just... live. With you. Today.

And as the rain continued to fall outside, Jihoon held you like you were something he didn’t deserve but would spend the rest of his life trying to. One step at a time, he thought. Today. Together.

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mxchibomb · 9 days ago

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content. mdni 18+

munch! jiraiya !! face sitting

jiraiya who enjoys letting you take advantage of him.

"sit." he ordered softly with a subtle sharp tone, clicking his tongue against his teeth at your hesitant form, puffy folds just barely pressing against his wet lips while you hovered in insecurity. you captured his undivided attention, the usually obnoxious sage scarily quiet. long, white hair untied from his usual loose ponytail was sprawled along the bed and he was rid of his hitai-ate. his face was flushed a bright pink, eyes drooping in absolute longing. "please sit.." he urged you with the tip of his tongue poking outwards to drag a stripe along your wet cunt just above his face. he hummed at the taste of you on his taste buds, dilated pupils going unnoticed in his dark eyes. his fat cock was almost bursting in anticipation. your unintentional teasing made his head spin, leaving you with an impatient wrap of his arms around the fat of your thighs. a desperate tug of your body downwards, the smallest spurt of cum staining the front of his pants at the feeling of your weight against his waiting face.

you hadn't even the time to complain, his lips hurriedly latching onto your folds. strong arms locked you in tight and the pads of his fingers dug craters into the soft skin of your thighs. his tongue was skillful, as expected from his age and his promiscuous ways. fast yet just the right amount of gentle. his tongue flicked at the sweet bud in his mouth with glazed over eyes. he watched your every move, every facial expression with his face scrunched in pleasure of pleasuring you.

"so good.." his mumbles were muffled on your soft pussy. his eyes rolled to the back of his head, cock twitching painfully as your hips unintentionally ground against his face, your pubic mound bumping into the long shape of his nose. "mmmfff.. love it.."

you had given in to the addictive flicks of his tongue against your pussy, your noises bouncing off the walls and back at you. your thighs squeezed at his head at the obscene slurps his mouth created, whining loudly at the brief feeling of his tongue dipping into your hole. your cunt pulsed on his taste buds, the bounce of your hips on top of him proceeding with more vigor.

leaning back, a weak hand slipped down into the waistband of jiraiya's pants. his hips bucked and he groaned loudly into the space between your thighs as your warmth wrapped around the width of his leaking cock, a mix of precum and thick sperm dribbling down into your palm. he was was impossibly hard, the slightest touch leaving behind a twitch and a grunt in response. your hand clutched at his cock tightly, the lubricant from his cum squishing softly at the movements of your hands pumping his shaft.

he groaned against your skin and gently shook his head, his tongue mirroring his movements. the anxious churn of his gut and aggressive tightness in his balls began to warn him. he couldn't cum before you. he tried not to. but the delicious tug of your hand and the sweet saltiness of your slick threatened to make him spill, a constant flow of precum and blood rushing through his cock. your body did well for his pride, convulsing with loud whines and the sweet release of your juices landing on his tongue.

"fuuucckkkー" your hand held the base of his cock in a steady grip as you came, setting him off with a loud groan into your sensitive cunt. the sage green of his uniform turned dark as cum seeped into the fabric of his pants, painting his pelvis with the excess that bubbled over.

with soft pants, you lifted your body upwards only to be pulled into the same grip you were just in.

"mm-mm.. just a little longer." jiraiya gave a dopeish smile with a mix of your juices and his saliva dripping down his cheeks and chin, slipping out of lust into his signature of outright perversion.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto fanfiction #naruto shippuden fanfiction #naruto jiraiya #naruto shippuden jiraiya #jiraiya #naruto x reader #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto jiraiya x reader #naruto shippuden jiraiya x reader #jiraiya x reader #jiraiya x you #naruto smut #naruto shippuden smut #jiraiya smut #18+ mdni

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mithrandirl · 11 months ago

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i always get questions when i do a split gifset, and it's a deceptively simple process so i thought i'd try to show how i do it! i don't know if these types of gifsets have a more universally recognized name, but that's what i call them so that's what i'm going with.

i'm going to write this assuming you have a solid familiarity with photoshop and making gifs, but please feel free to send me an ask if anything is unclear. i use video timeline/smart objects so will be showing that (here's a great general tutorial on giffing with timeline). i will also be talking A LOT about gif dimensions, so first let's briefly go over the limits and theory a little bit.

a 1 column gifset can accommodate gifs 540 pixels wide

2 columns = 268 pixels each with a 4 pixel gutter between

3 columns = 177, 178, 177 pixels with 4 pixel gutters

i'm mostly going to talk about 2 column split gifs here (what i will refer to as 2x1 from now on - 2 across and 1 high), but the process is the same for 3 column (3x1) and so on (1x2, 2x2, etc).

so, why would you even want to make a gifset like this? i mean, let’s face it, generally, bigger is better for gifs on tumblr, and there are obvious incentives to 540 width gifs over 268 or 177/8 width, especially since the upload limit went to 10MB. but even 10MB isn’t much when you’re talking about high quality footage. gif making is a constant balance between quality (whatever that means to you: frame dimensions, sharpening, coloring, etc) and file size. split gifs are a cheat to that limitation >:)

i personally believe an untapped frontier of tumblr gifmaking is playing with dimensions and time. that sentence makes me sound like an old-timey sci-fi villain, but you get the idea: gifmaking is an art and there are many fun and interesting ways of exploring the medium. you can do a lot with 268 pixels! longer frame loops to gif longer scenes unbroken, bolder coloring on a wide shot you don’t want to pare down. and, a shorter x axis means the y axis’s bang goes a lot further on a buck. also just if you have a 2 column set but only 5 gifs so you need to make one take up 2 slots. there's a lot of reasons but the most important one is it's fun :) here are some examples of other split gifs i've made: x, x, x

this isn't so much a limitation, more of a shift in how you think about gifs, but it's important to remember that each gif should ideally be doing something still. when making split gifs, it’s easy to pick a wide scene without thinking about how it’ll be split down the middle, and then you’re left with a lot of something on one side and a lot of incongruous nothing on the other - or you're left with a person cut in half awkwardly in the middle. so while a split gif can still be a whole scene, you shouldn’t ignore the break and what it means to the bigger picture. now this is personal preference, but i like to play with the break and make it a part of the gifset. mirrored movement, subjects trapped on either side but still talking to each other, a bird flying from one side to the other. fun with frames! it can be another way of drawing attention to specific images/moments/feelings happening within the same shot.

SIMPLE SPLIT GIFS

to more narrowly define what i’m calling “simple split gifs,” it’s one set of frames split down the middle into two separate gifs that are meant to play concurrently, side by side.

first thing's first, crop your gif and uncheck delete cropped pixels if it is not already (very important). i'm cropping it to the 1x1 size, in this case 268x350. if you need to see how the full size will look, you can try it out with 536 first. but this one is pretty easy, this is the exact center of the frame (the left boundary of this crop is the center line) and both their heads fit within their respective 1x1 crop.

then color as you normally would. if your scene is very different one side to the other, it might be easier for you to color on a wider crop and then either crop again or copy paste your coloring to the smaller crop version. i do that with the 2x6s, but it's usually not that big a deal to color the 2x1s with just the small crop on your canvas at the time. this scene is very symmetrical, both in movement and colors, so i'm good.

now the fun part! once you've got one side how you want it, save/export as you normally would. at this point i also like to make a mental note of how many frames there are.

so i have 49 frames and it's still only ~3MB! this is just an example that i picked from my rotk fancy set, otherwise i probably would have made this gif longer.

then onto the other side, so i ctrl + z my way back to my smart object video timeline. to get to theoden i just drag and drop the smart object 268 pixels over. since this one is in the exact center of the image, it even helpfully guides me (this can get annoying if you are NOT giffing the center of the image fyi, but you can always manually go pixel by pixel too if you need to with your <- -> keyboard buttons. just always remember where you started and count accurately). i can never move around my smart object without hiding the adjustment layers on top of it, so you'll see me do that in this screen recording.

see how it corrected me when i dragged it a few pixels down by accident, and with all those pink guidelines? sometimes photoshop is good 😌

then make sure you still like the coloring, adjust whatever needs to be adjusted, but watch out! don't make any major changes because it still has to match the other side. and export again.

what we perceive as 1 series of frames chopped down the middle is just 2 separate gifs with the same frame rate. when tumblr loads the images, it will run concurrently in the post (even though it never does in the draft post 🙄). and that's it!

COMPLEX SPLIT GIFS

again i'm making up terms, but i call anything with more than 2 components a complex split gifset. i've tweaked some things in the process as i went along, but this is generally how i did the lotr series. these sets are basically just many split gifs with transitions. and here's where endurance becomes a factor :) there's a lot of prep done blind. but if set up well, it will be fairly easy to pull together by the end.

first i decide on my dimensions, using my upper bounds to determine how big i'm going to go. since lotr has very nice large file sizes, i can go pretty big without sacrificing much in quality. i decided on 3 rows of 350 pixel height gifs and it's worked well for me. that means my biggest gif will have a total height of 1050 pixels - fun! you could also do 8 rows, with two 2x2s or just a series of 2x1s that transition to 1x1s. there really is no limit to this except your imagination and source material.

i cap everything i'm going to use before i even open photoshop, then do all of them at once. uncheck delete cropped pixels, then i make my gifs! this is where i spend 90% of the time on this set. every gif should be the size of the smallest 1x1 gif (268x350 for me). i make all 10 into a fully colored, separate psd. (and then i usually go back through all of them a few times to get the colors to match better 😅) for the bigger ones (2x1: 536x350 and 2x6: 536x1050), i just crop them as if they were 1x1 but always thinking about how they will look when big. this gets tricky when i do the big one :) my lazy workaround for that is to basically make it twice: one cropped as it will be and one full size for me to color. then i copy and paste all the coloring layers onto the small one and voila, i know that the coloring in the upper right slice will also look good on the bottom left slice 1050 pixels away because i saw it on the full size version.

coloring is probably the biggest thing i'm thinking about with this kind of set. the whole idea is that these gifs are using the same colors, more or less, throughout each phase. even with the 1x1s, they're still part of a larger color concept, and they should (🤞) work with each other.

in a pinch, i like to eyedrop a color from one gif and add it as an accent to another. one of my 1x1s had a much more muted color palette originally, but i wanted it to have deeper blues and yellows to complement the 1x1 that would go next to it, so i added some gradients on lower opacity over it, color picked from other gifs i already colored.

i keep my coloring and the smart object in separate folders to help me in the final step of combining everything, and then i trim everything down to my lowest common denominator of frames. you might think you need to keep frames pretty minimal if you're doing 3 phases with transitions like this, but there's more room to work with on a small gif, in terms of file size. i usually do 30-50 frames for each phase, with the assumption that i'll be adding a transition on each side of each gif that will eat up some frames (i usually do 4-6 frame fade transitions). for the rotk set my final frame count was 129 and i never went over 8MB on a gif, so there's plenty of space play around with things :)

and then, combine! whatever order you start with, you are stuck with (unless you're getting even more complicated, but we won't go into that lol). for these sets i go small 1x1 -> medium 2x1 -> big 2x6. i like to think of it in phases from this point on. small is the first phase, then medium, then big. then i put in the fade transitions, chopping up the first phase gif so the last one will fade into it, restarting the whole cycle seamlessly. i'm just doing a quick and dirty fade here, but here's a tutorial if you want more explanation on transitions.

at this point i save this psd as its position, "top left" or whatever (usually it's a psb by this point too 🥲), just in case i need to go back to it. then i export this first gif and move on to the rest.

it's the same concept as a simple split gif: drag and drop the smart object to the new position, but now there are multiple phases to keep track of. folder organization has been key for me to keep everything straight. i move through the gifs in a backwards S, starting with the top left. but you could go any direction, just gotta stick with it and remember your counts. in my case, i'm always thinking of 268 pixels over and, for the 2x6, 350 up/down. it's a tedious process, but it goes quick (apart from waiting for photoshop to load each time you export).

i did this series as a color concept aesthetic kind of thing, so my theory was by using the same-ish colors throughout, that would save me in the end when it came time to export. there's only 256 colors max to work with on a gif, and that's usually what gets me over the 10MB limit. but as i said, i have never even gotten close to the size limit on this series. it's pretty hard to reach the limit on 268 pixels, but not impossible. (i did run into that on the emma set i did, and that was hell. but also not an impossible fix in the end.)

and that's it! if you try any of this and have trouble, i'm happy to help if i can but mostly this is a "click around and see what works for you" kind of process. and feel free to tag me on your split gifsets :) i love seeing them <3

#*lotrsplit #*#split gifs #gif tutorial #photoshop tutorial #usergif #allresources #chaoticresources #completeresources #photoshop tag

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shaddork · 2 months ago

Text

The Star That Wouldn't Die - Chapter 1

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Masterlist - Next > Summary: Jason Todd forgot a lot of things after the Lazarus pit's putrid green waters helped restore him back to life. He wished that Dick hadn't said that name, your name. Reigniting feelings and memories. As memories he thought were long lost start to return, can he continue to be in your life without dragging you down with him? Can he be in your life without you knowing who he is? He doesn't know, but he wants to try.

TW: Self Loathing, Description of violence

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Chapter 1

Jason forgot a lot of things after being dipped into the murky, putrid smelling lazarus pit. Most of it was relatively unimportant information. Books he read - which just meant that he’d get to read them again-, the rich earthy smell of rain falling onto the ground, the layout of the manor that Bruce Wayne had so kindly taken him into as an extremely troubled young boy, names, silly memories with Bruce, Alfred, and Dick, the only true family that he thought he knew. The only things that remained completely intact were mostly traumatic memories, the way joker nearly beat him to death with a crowbar, asking if a forehand or backhand hit hurt more all while cackling into his bloody broken face. The sound of the bomb ticking down, the explosion that finally ended his life, begging for Batman to make it to him in time to save him. The way the woman he thought was his mother disappeared on day, leaving him alone and scrounging for any scraps he could possibly get, sleeping under an overhang of a building while rain poured down around him. Stealing the tires of the batmobile in a moment of desperation, being caught with a tire iron in his hands, trying to hide it behind his back convinced that he was going to die that day. The muscle memory from his training under Batman remained too, muscle memory that was only useful to a certain extent.

His body - his new body - felt foreign, wrong, twisted and contorted in a way it never had before. Larger than before, both in height and width. He felt like a stranger within his own body, barely recognized himself in the mirror even after the year spent with Talia Al Ghul and various trainers to hone his skills to make him even more deadly than he was before. His old scars were still present on his body, a stark almost white color against his skin, much like the skunk streak that now marred his permanently black hair. The pit had fixed that for him, the fact his hair wasn’t naturally black, and now he didn’t have a choice. He supposed it was better than being a ginger at least. Then there were the new scars and the stretch marks that marred his body. He’d grown and gained mass quickly, enough that almost no part of his body was mark free.

He wished that Dick hadn’t said that name, your name. The immediate confusion at the sound of your name, only worsened when “Your childhood friend?” had been tacked on as an explanation. Emotions that he had no explanation for had reared their head at the sound of your name. It was confusing, frightening even. How he’d forgotten you, he had no clue, it was jarring, it made his mind reel. You’d been a large part of his life, and it had taken photos that Dick pulled out to jog his memory of who you were, and even then it was only partial. Memories came floating back, memories that felt like they belonged to an entirely different person. And he was a different person now, every memory he held of the past felt foreign. They didn’t belong to him, they belonged to that other Jason Todd. The one who still held hope within his soul.

He wished he could go back to being blissfully unaware of you, then the stone that lodged itself within his heart - guilt - and the broiling deep in his gut - worry - would go away, he had enough to that already, he didn’t need more. He wouldn’t feel the constant pull like a hand wrapping around his wrist and tugging in a certain direction, to find you and check on you, make sure that you were okay. He wouldn’t want to insert himself back into your life. It was a new constant struggle. He had enough constant struggles already, he didn’t need this one.

But there was something else too, something light, something sweet when he thought about those memories, when he looked at those photos. Something like listening to birds sing on a quiet afternoon. Watching the sun rise over the horizon and knowing that he’d made it through yet another day.

Finding you and interacting with you could put you in danger, and you didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve to see him in his current state, most of all, he barely deserved you then. He certainly didn’t now. Not when there was blood stained into his hands, his skin. Not when his every thought and action was stained with his previous actions, his guilt.

He’d made Dick send the photos to him. Which had been surprisingly easy to do. Dick hadn’t even asked why he was so insistent that he got to have the photos for himself. As rocky as their relationship still currently was, they were trying.

It became a constant struggle to not go looking for you. He didn’t remember your last name, and he couldn’t ask, not without revealing how woefully incomplete his memory was, even after being able to recall some basic memories about you. A month of trying to convince himself to not go around asking questions to those that had been around him during that life. A month of staring at the three photos that Dick had sent to him. A month of wondering if there were more photos of you, he didn’t even care if he was in the photos or not.

The second month Oracle had caught him staring at one of the photos on his phone. With a far away look in his eyes. His demeanor was sad, but his eyes almost had that spark in them again. A spark that he had lost after his death. A few days after catching him staring at the photos Oracle had texted him the name of an apartment building with a smiley face.

At the end of that second month he’d lost the internal fight to not go check on you, to not potentially drag you down into hell with his simple presence around you. And that's how he found himself sitting on a rooftop across from an apartment building located in the upper east side staring down at the phone in his hands. Far out of what was technically his territory, out of his usual patrol route.

He’d stared at the photos Dick had sent him for so long that he didn’t even need to pull out his phone to see them. He had them memorized, he had every detail of your face memorized at this point, your eyes, nose, eyebrows, mouth, hair, ears. Everything. But he found himself staring at the photos he’d been given anyways.

There were only three photos that Dick had. One was clearly taken not long after he had become Robin. He couldn’t have been thirteen yet, it had been taken at Robinson Park, he was just sitting on a bench with you. But you were grinning and laughing at him. Your hair was still its natural color. Beautiful in its own way, but it was almost to dour on you. Not bright enough to fit the smile that lit up your whole face. How did he ever forget a smile like that?

The second photo was taken later, it looked like he was fourteen. Your hair now dyed a bright color that matched your bright demeanor so much better than a more natural hair color., the two of you grinning and covered in paint. It looked like Jason had gotten the brunt of the paint tossed on him, covered in bright primary colors, caked in his hair. But you weren’t unscathed either, nor was the room the two of you were in. Not with the still wet paint dripping of the two and splattering onto the ground. The photo made his heart ache, he might vaguely remember you now, but he certainly didn’t remember this specific incident. I looked happy, we looked happy.

The third and final photo had been taken only shortly before his death, fifteen years old, the two of you. He remembered this one vaguely. You’d entered an art contest at your school, and had won. A bright blue sticker stuck to your cheek to commemorate the win, an arm wrapped around his shoulder even if you had to stand on your tip toes to do so. The painting you’d done hung and framed on the wall behind the two. A painting of him, as robin. Bright colors working together to make him look bright and happy, and aside from his anger and separate issues, he was bright and happy back then. He wondered if you were still an artist. But he didn’t even remember just how into art you were at the time, just that you liked it, and you were good at it. Did you still have that painting?

He didn’t know which apartment was yours. Hell, he wasn’t even entirely sure that this was the right apartment building. This whole thing could be one large sick joke. Guilt rolled in his gut. Did he have any right to check in on you? He barely remembered the girl that he’d apparently cared so much for. Still cared for, with a lack of memories to back up the feelings. This was a battle with his own emotions he was okay with losing for the moment.

Four years, almost five, since he’d returned from the dead, and it took him this long to regain even a scrap of memory surrounding you. Why? The question burned in his heart and mind, and yet he knew that he wouldn’t find any answer, he had none for why he remembered some things after his dips in that rancid yet magical pit, why some things just came to him with random interactions still. He’d given up on searching for an answer or trying to chase down all of his fractured and scattered memories, he chased them for long enough and the purposeful search never worked out in his favour.

But that's what he was doing now wasn’t it? Chasing a memory. A memory he’d lost. It was different, he wasn’t trying to get old memories back necessarily. He wasn’t even trying to get you back, so why was he here, in the middle of the night and trying to figure out which apartment was yours. He’d given up chasing his memories, it wasn’t like he could ever return to that time, so why was he doing it again now?

He didn’t have an answer for that.

About half of the apartments on this side of the building he’d been able to cross out. Glances inside revealing decorations that didn’t feel right for you, always so bright and colorful. Spying people that certainly weren’t you. So he sat, watching. If he ruled out all the apartments on this side of the building and didn’t find you, then he’d move over to the next side.

“Hood what are you doing?” Tim’s - Red Robins - voice floated over his coms in his helmet. Jason had reluctantly agreed to patrol in tandem with the others, only patrol. It gave him more resources to be able to take care of his portion of gotham. But that meant they were able to talk to him and see his location during. He really should have turned them off when he decided he’d gone over his territory enough. It had slipped his mind. Was he getting complacent…no, comfortable with them?

“Fuck off.”

“You’ve been sitting in the same place for nearly an hour.”

He didn’t want to respond. He didn’t owe them any explanation on what he was doing. He’d technically completed his go over of his territory, and he was still listening on the radar to make sure that nothing went down that he needed to go help with. So far nothing had, but crime alley was unpredictable.

“This isn’t your business, stay out of it.” He doubted that they would. Even if he’d agreed to try and build a relationship back with what was supposed to be his family, he still despised how nosey they all were. They wanted to know everything, be all involved in his business. He wasn’t ready for that. Some of them were better at staying out of it than others. Some of his family seemed to realize that he wasn’t ready for that much interaction with them. Others, namely Bruce, had been trying to convince him to move back into Wayne Manor.

He wouldn’t be doing that. No chance in hell was that happening.

The coms went silent again, thank fuck. And he was left to continue staring at the apartments. Were you a night owl? Or was waiting outside the apartments for your light to turn on and show him what he was looking for a lost cause? Did you keep your curtains drawn so that nobody could peer inside?

It was a smart idea. A responsible idea. But it would make this little endeavour of his fruitless. He couldn’t try and find you during the day, not responsibly anyways. There was a chance that you’d recognize him, and it wasn’t typically a good idea to go running about in his mask and armor during the day.

He stayed outside those apartments until the sun started to rise. The first night had certainly been a fruitless endeavor. But at least he’d managed to eliminate some of the apartments. If he didn’t guilt himself out of coming back tomorrow night, then he would. And his new personal mission would continue. A mission that he didn’t know why he was doing, not fully.

---------------------------------------------------

He showed up again the next night. Maybe this time he’d catch a glance. That’s all he really wanted. A single glance, and maybe the deep roiling guilt for forgetting you would subside. A part of him doubted that. Another part of him thought that just seeing that you were okay would help. He didn’t know which one to listen to.

Of course, after two hours of sitting in the same spot as the night before his family couldn’t leave him alone. He heard him well before he saw him. Dick - Nightwing - crouching down next to him on the roof adjacent to the apartments. The black and blue of his suit contrasting with the reds of his own armor. He wasn’t surprised, one of them was bound to show up sooner or later. If Roy found out about what he was doing he’d certainly never hear the end of it. The man loved to tease him, but for some reason they got along, he didn’t know why their friendship worked, but it did. Better than he had anticipated. He’d known Roy before his death, they were on friendly terms even. But Roy was Dicks friend, not Jasons.

Roy running with the outlaws helped that though. He and dick were still friends, but somehow, someway, Jason and Roy had started to grow closer. Roy was his closest friend, but that might be on account of Jason having very few actual friends. It was hard to have friends when you were legally dead and most people seemed to think you’re a homicidal maniac.

That opinion of him wasn’t totally wrong. Especially considering what Jason had done a year and a half ago. He didn’t care to try and fix that opinion. At least not when it came to the majority of people. Fear was good, fear kept people from fucking with him. He still thought that anybody who wasn’t afraid and actively kicking up trouble deserved death. But Bruce wasn’t appreciative of that outlook. Something that kept him from working with the bats as much as he could avoid it while still getting to know his family again. He was surprised that Bruce hadn’t thrown him into blackgate yet. Thankful, but surprised.

“Weird choice of local to take a break from patrol little wing.”

“Don’t call me that.” He didn’t give Nightwing a response on why he was here. He thought if he was as close with you as he felt he was, then the bats would have kept an eye on you to keep you safe. But they didn’t. Were the two of you not as close as he thought? Had something happened?

His mind was filled with questions. Questions that he could get an answer to if he simply asked one of the bats that was there at the time. That would require admitting that he didn’t remember, they knew that there were gaps in his memory, but he was careful to make sure that they didn’t know just how many and how large the gaps were. Entire months of his life gone from his memory. Disappeared from him as if they had never happened, like he’d never gone through it. None of them would understand how dying and coming back with large chunks of your memories felt. Even if they tried to encourage him to talk about it, to seek help for his problems. He could deal with them on his own. He would deal with them on his own. He didn’t need their help.

“Seriously though. Two nights in a row you’re here. Why? It’s not a particularly pretty building to look at.” The building wasn’t decrepit and crumbling, but there were certainly much nicer apartment buildings in Gotham. Even if the city was a cesspool, there were nicer places to live if someone really was determined to stay in Gotham, despite the rampant crime and corruption within the city's government.

Jason thought for a moment. Dick wanted to have a relationship with him, and at some point he’d decided to give in and try. He owed it to them, even if he was still mad at them for not killing joker, they still raised him. Jason not caring about them was never the problem, the problem was that he felt like he didn’t care about him. It certainly didn’t help that he came back and found some other kid taking up the Robin mantle. They’d replaced him, forgot about him. At least that had been what he thought had happened.

“I don’t know. Looking for someone I guess.” It was a half truth. He’d kept the information on who he was looking for out of the explanation. But he really didn’t know what he was doing here. He didn’t know what his end goal was. Sure he might want back into your life, even if he didn’t fully remember the relationship that he’d had with you. Hell, he didn’t even remember if you knew he was Robin. Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Have you ever even been to Wayne manor?

“Someone work related?”

Nightwing didn’t get an answer. As far as Jason was concerned, this wasn’t any of his business. He’d have to start cutting his location and coms off when he came here. He didn’t want any of them knowing about what he was doing. This was his thing, not theirs. It would be more convenient if you still lived in Crime Alley, but it was the worst place in Gotham to live. He should be glad that you got out, even if it inconvenienced him. He tried telling himself that this wasn’t any of his business, but he was just too curious to not come see you at least. Even if he’d never get any interaction with you. Checking in on you from a far would have to be enough for him.

Nightwing seemed to take the silence for an answer enough. But he didn’t leave, simply sitting there with him for a while in silence. It was impressive really, the fact that he was managing to be so quiet. Nightwing claimed that being chatty was part of his charm. Everyone expected him to talk all the time. His silence was a blessing, one that Jason was grateful for.

He managed to eliminate more of the apartments from the list of potential ones that night. But still no sight of the person that he was looking for.

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By the end of the third night there were only a handful of apartments on this side that were contenders. And he’d started turning his coms and location off from the other bats. But remained tuned in to the radio to make sure that he didn’t need to book it back to crime alley to take care of something. Really, he was shirking his responsibilities there in order to do this. He knew that. Most crimes weren’t reported.

The fourth night he started on the other side of the building. The same process of narrowing down what apartment he was looking for. If this one didn’t have it, then it had to be on the backside of the building. If that wasn’t it, then would he give up? Or would he hold out hope. He didn’t know. Hope how funny, he hasn't felt that in a long time.

The fifth, sixth, and seventh nights proved that it wasn’t this side of the building. One last chance then. Maybe he’d get lucky this time, maybe Oracle had sent him on a wild goose chase for fun or as payback for something. That was a worst case scenario for him. His least favorite option of the thoughts of possibilities swirling around in his head.

It was the ninth night that he found what he was looking for. A light flicked on late in the night, around five in the morning, in one of the apartments in the middle of the back of the building. Curtains were drawn, but only briefly, being moved to the side to see the outside world. And there you stood. Hair just as brightly colored as in the photos from his teen years. Face similar, older, but still the same.

The inside of the apartment, at least what portion of it he could see made so much sense. It was just as bright and colorful as your hair, your smile. Walls painted, pictures hanging up, mahogany shelves filled with books, art supplies, various knick knacks. One wall seemed to be dedicated to taping sketches too. He wasn’t close enough to make out if they were good, but he didn’t need to see them to know that. You’d been good at drawing as a teenager, there was no way you weren’t amazing by now.

Coffee cup in hand, he watched you fling yourself onto your couch, still wearing fluffy bright pajamas, hair unbrushed and messy, and turn on the TV. His stomach churned. Anxiety and excitement mixing together in an uncomfortable combination. He’d found you. You looked good, grown up well. Didn’t look like you’d lost any of your personality or fondness for bright colors. You were still as bright as the sun, even early in the morning when you’d just woken up.

He hadn’t realized that he’d leaned so far forward over the edge of the rooftop, if he leaned forward anymore then he would have fallen. Which would be more embarrassing than anything else. Seeing you just made all his previous questions spiral through his mind. A deep ache settled in his chest. A pull on his heart and towards your apartment. He wanted to get closer, talk to you, the ache was deep, painful, and beautiful all at the same time. There was something else there too. The stone pressed against his heart intensified, a feeling he was much more familiar with. Guilt.

Did he have any right to yearn for you when he barely remembered you? It was like seeing a stranger on the street and deciding that they were yours. His memories were gone, but the feelings were still there. How could he have feelings for someone without the memories to back them up? Did you feel the same?

Staying on his spot on the rooftop was difficult, disobeying his feelings, his wants, trying to shove it down just like many of his emotions. But it wasn’t subsiding, it wasn’t going away. He couldn’t ignore this, but he didn’t deserve to talk to you. You were a star, not just any star, the sun. Giving your light and warmth away to others, so full of life, so full of wonder, of joy. And he was a black hole. He’d tried to be a star, and he might have been briefly, but he’d imploded upon himself, falling into a dark abyss. Anything - anyone - who got too close to him got sucked in and destroyed. He didn’t want to- couldn’t -do that to you. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #writing #fanfic #red hood #batman #red hood x reader #The Star that Wouldn't Die fic

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